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isolemnlyswearpevensie · 4 years

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Paper Cut | Edmund Pevensie x Reader Soulmate AU

Warnings: Mentions of injury/blood, describing pain, seemingly near-death experience and talk about death, probably some cussing

Time/Era: Modern AU but the Pevensies have been to Narnia.

Word Count: 2.4k

Summary: Every injury your soulmate receives, you also receive. When you finally meet your soulmate, you have a few bones to pick.

A/N: Hello! This is the first imagine I’ve written on this blog, so I decided to do something a little more light-hearted for our favorite just king. I’m also a sucker for soulmate aus. There will be a part 2 for this story :D Feel free to leave requests :) Also, I’ve never been to Cambridge University so please take everything I say about it with a grain of salt lol

Part 2 | Part 3 | masterlist | read on ao3

It’s a common courtesy to try and be as careful as you can when it comes to your body. Not for your sake, but for your soulmate’s. Every papercut, cramp, broken bone, and even every itch you feel, your other half does as well. So, it was common sense to try to be as careful as you could to not inflict pain on them. Or at least that’s what Y/N thought. She spent her whole life dodging anything she felt could cause her harm. This included “normal kid” things like playing on the playground, rolling down hills, jumping off things, or playing sports. Her heart was always in the right place, even if her friends and family called her a stick in the mud for declining their “fun” requests. She could not, and will not, injure her person. When she was around 8, she had been playing with a paper airplane and it just barely sliced her finger. It left behind a pesky papercut that stung. Bad. The small injury left Y/N guilty for days afterward. She has assumed that her soulmate was on the same page as her for the longest time. Aside from a few skinned knees (they were kids after all,) Y/N was left unscathed. She went on her days carefree until she was about fifteen.

It seemed as though Y/N’s soulmate had completely changed their deminer overnight. It started with a bit of road rash on her palms. Y/N assumed they had fallen accidentally. Annoying, sure, but it was more than manageable. Then, her lip split open and bled for almost 15 minutes.

As the week went on, large bruises started appearing on her legs and hips. Maybe the road rash fall was worse than she initially thought. Again, she just rode it off as clumsiness. It wasn’t long until her fingertips started to turn purple. This made Y/N panic.

“Ma’am?” Y/N interrupted her science teacher in the middle of her lecture, “I think there’s something wrong with my hands.” The purple started to spread down her fingers towards her knuckles. They also proved to be getting harder to move.

“Oh, dear, you’re freezing.” Ms. Adamson remarks, taking Y/N’s hands into her own.

“What’s happening? Am I dying?” Her entire hand was now numb.

“I don’t think so, Miss L/N, but, it’ll help you and them out if we warm you up.”

Her toes suffered the same fate, she discovered during a visit to the school’s infirmary. (Which wasn’t even worth visiting in Y/N’s opinion.) The nurse at Y/N’s school didn’t have the “jurisdiction” to help Y/N properly, so she had to settle for a wet paper towel that was warmed in the microwave. Y/N just wished to be sent home instead. By the time she was finally set free, the purple had faded but her skin tone was not back to normal. Hopefully, the paper towel did something for her soulmate cause this sure as hell wasn’t Y/N’s fault. Her parents were flabbergasted when she got home, mostly upset that they made her miss so many of her classes. Neither had any explanation but tried to offer unhelpful comforting all the same.

When Y/N awoke the next morning, all of the fingers in her hand had gone back to normal and she regained feeling. Finally, her soulmate was finally safe.

She spent the day coming up with ridiculous reasons as to why they had almost given her frostbite. Maybe they got locked in a freezer at an ice cream store and had to wait for the store to reopen to let them out. Maybe they live in Antarctica and they got locked out of their house in their underwear. Maybe they were trying to win a bet to see who could stay in ice water the longest. The daydreams were cut short as she was harshly awoken by a searing pain in her abdomen.

Ms. Adamson dropped her whiteboard marker and panicked when she heard Y/N scream. It wasn’t a normal teenage girl scream either. No, this scream was filled with pure agony and distress. It echoed against the walls and vibrated the desks. It sounded as if she was getting murdered. Y/N fell to the floor and landed in a big heap. The scientist hurriedly ran towards Y/N and stopped dead in her tracks when she saw the teen’s blood pooling on the linoleum floor. It appeared she had been stabbed, by the looks of it.

Pointing at various other students to do various tasks, call an ambulance, call the office, and to go get another teacher, she took hold of Y/N’s hand.

“It’s going to be okay,” She whispered, “You’re going to be fine. Keep your eyes open for me.”

Y/N felt very odd. Was this what dying felt like? She felt as though she was underwater; she could hear Ms. Adamson but her voice was muffled and she couldn’t make anything out. Y/N felt dizzy and sick at the same time, all she wanted to do was shut her eyes. So she did. Relief filled her as quickly as the pain. Her wound felt cold as if someone was pushing a damp cloth onto it. The pain lessened and lessened until there was none at all.

Five years later she had almost forgotten about what had happened. Almost. In the years that followed the incident, severe gashes and bruises had become a normal occurrence. Her body was riddled with what seemed like battle scars, and she was almost always on edge. She had no way of knowing what was going to happen to her, nor when it was going to happen. This felt really unfair. She had been so careful for them, but they treated themself like a rag doll.

Much to her delight, when she hit eighteen all of the injuries suddenly stopped. The last injury she had received was a dark black bruise that covered her entire side, then nothing. It had been two years and all she got were papercuts and burned tongues.

“Take a break,” Y/N’s roommate grabs the pen out of her hand and places it on the desk. “You’ve been working on that for ages, come get coffee with me.”

Y/N was currently in her third year at Cambridge University, working on her undergraduate biology degree. For her degree, she had to take organic chemistry and it was, in simple terms, kicking her ass. Her professor is shitty, the work was hard and Y/N was losing motivation.

“I can’t. If I stop I’ll fail the final, then fail the class then never graduate.” Y/N mumbles, picking up her pen again and scribbling something down.

“That’s not true, just come with me. Please?” “I said no, Y/B/F/N.”

“What if you take your books with you? A change of environment might help you study.”

Y/N leans back in her chair and looks up at her roommate. Maybe she had a point, it might do her good to get out a little bit. She packs her things and the two make their way to the coffee shop.

The coffee shop on campus was small and always packed. The school preferred to call it “cozy,” but still, it’s small. Surprisingly, there weren’t many people inside.

“Most people must’ve already left campus for break,” Y/B/F/N said, seemingly reading your mind.

Only three of the tables had students sitting at them. One in the far corner had a girl who looked to be a very frustrated first year, huddled over a croissant and an English textbook. A few tables down sat four boys and one girl. Each had books open and pens in their hands, but by picking up snippets of their conversation, they were talking about whether Voldemort or Darth Vader would win in a fight. Finally, near the window, sat a boy who was staring straight at her. She recognized him from a few of her general education classes. Y/N had never talked to this boy, but he was rather cute. He was wearing a crimson sweater and ripped jeans with converse, hair messily tossed to the side. Y/N couldn’t decide whether or not he was staring at her or was in a very deep thought so she waved. No wave back.

The two girls get their coffee and sit down a few tables away from the boy.

“Do you know that guy?” Y/B/F/N asks, moving her head towards crimson sweater.

“Not officially, I recognize him. Oh, what’s his name? I knew it at one point…” Y/N reaches into her bag and pulls out her books again, placing them on the table. As if it were a habit, she immediately starts studying again. She glances past her friend; the guy was still staring at that one spot.

Time passes fast for Y/N but slow for Y/B/F/N. She tried to speak with you but ultimately gave up. So, bidding you goodbye, she left to go find her boyfriend. Y/N was kind of relieved, she can finally study in peace. The big group also left, after fighting about whether a time turner should be illegal or not, so the cafe was left with an almost eery silence. So silent that you can hear every pencil scratch, every tap of a keyboard, and every gulp of coffee.

At some point, the boy had gotten up to get another cup of coffee and passed by Y/N. He was wearing a shit ton of cologne, so he left a scent trail wherever he went. Making his way back to his table, he tripped and spilled his coffee all over Y/N’s chemistry notes.

“No, no, no, no, no!!!!!” Y/N screeches, wiping away the coffee with her bare hands. The drink splashes onto the boy’s pants and shoes.

“Oh as- oh fuck, I am so sorry!” He grabs a wad of napkins and tries to blot the paper. She had worked on that study guide for hours, and now it was ruined. There was no way her professor would take it now. Thank god her laptop was still in her bag.

Panicked, Y/N picks up her notebook and starts flipping through it. Her pen marks were bleeding together and there was no way to save them. Coffee crimson boy grimaces and picks up the notebook.

“I don’t suppose this was an art class and you could turn it in as an abstract piece?” He says in a serious tone, though the words were highly sarcastic. Y/N lets out a single laugh.

“I wish it were, but no. O Chem,” Coffee crimson’s face contorts even more.

“Ouch, um, do you have it backed up anywhere?”

“Ah yes, I have my notebook backed up.” The previously broken ice was discarded and Y/N was frustrated again.

“You should have done it on your laptop.”

“And you should watch where the fuck you’re going.” Y/N snatches the notebook from his hand. Coffee crimson notices your tone and quickly backtracks.

“Hey, let me redo it for you then,” He glances at the textbook casually. “I’m sure I can figure it out.”

“And why should I trust you? I don’t know you and my grade is riding on this.”

“Okay, that’s fair,” His smile was warm. “I’m Edmund Pevensie, I’m in the prelaw program.”

“Oh, perfect, a law student that’s going to attempt my organic chemistry homework. Wonder what could go wrong.”

“I’m sure I can figure it out. Law is hard, maybe a different kind of hard, but still hard. I can do hard.”

“Take a shot every time sweater guy says hard. I feel like I’m at a frat party.”

“I’m trying to fix my mistake here,” Now Edmund is the one that looks frustrated. “Here, take my number. I’ll text you updates and meet you back here tomorrow.” He looks at the clock. Damn, he had a gorgeous jawline. “4:32 pm. Exactly 24 hours from now.” Edmund scribbles his number onto a napkin and hands it to Y/N. As he writes, she can’t help but notice a long, jagged scar running the back of his hand. She scrunchs her eyebrows.

Edmund actually kept his word. Every hour until four am that night he sent Y/N updates. Goofy pictures of him googling stupid questions or him writing. He sent a video that gave Y/N a perfect shot of the scar. Curiously, Y/N looks down at her own hand.

The next day, his photo updates started coming again. This time they were more serious, showing the study guide. He ended up putting his own commentary in the margins; some funny some that made her think of the material differently. Y/N could really tell he was smart, even by his handwriting.

He sent a picture to Y/N at 4:25 of the table in the coffee shop. “I’m early” was sent at the exact moment Y/N opened the door.

“Wow, I’m impressed. I didn’t actually think you’d show.” Y/N sat opposite of him and smiled. He was wearing the same (coffee stained) jeans as yesterday and a button-up shirt.

“I wouldn’t do all that work for nothing,” He smiled again and handed Y/N a new notebook she had never seen before.

As she gripped the pages, the corner dug into her palm and cut her.

“Ow!” The two said at the same time. They both had a thin cut in the middle of their palms. His large brown eyes met Y/N’s and they stared for a moment. Y/N then grabbed his hand and pushed up his sleeve to show the scar going up the back of his hand. Y/N couldn’t look away from his skin; just as she had thought, it was identical to hers.

Meeting his gaze again, she pressed a hand to her stomach. Her hand rested right above a large, jagged scar that didn’t seem to heal quite right. His eyes followed the line of her arm.

“Edmund, I think you have a lot of explaining to do.”

#edmund pevensie #edmund pevensie x reader #edmund x reader #the chronicles of narnia #narnia #edmund pevensie fanfic #edmund pevensie fanfiction #the chronicles of narnia fanfic #the chronicles of narnia fanfiction #soulmate #soulmate au

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splendidlyimperfect · 3 years

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When Gray wakes up one night with a voice in his head, the last thing he expects is to suddenly be sharing a body with a demon. Natsu is nothing like Gray expected, though. He's surprisingly charming, and more concerned about getting Gray to eat vegetables than he is with taking over the world. Since Gray can't push him away like he does with everyone else, he begrudgingly accepts Natsu's place in his life - for now. But when Natsu ends up needing Gray's help, what started out as an inconvenience turns into a road trip - and a friendship - that changes Gray's life.

written for @fuckyeahgratsu gratsu weekend 2021 event

day 3 (super late but still!); prompt: consume

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 Fandom: Fairy Tail Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Natsu Dragneel/Gray Fullbuster Characters: Gray Fullbuster, Natsu Dragneel, Lyon Vastia, Mard Geer Tartarus Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Humor, Adventure, Demonic Possession, but the good kind, demon Natsu, References to Depression, Depressed Gray, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Sort Of, Road Trips, Falling In Love, Natsu's not an evil demon, he really just wants to take care of Gray, Gray sucks at feelings

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“Let me get this straight.” Lyon stared at Gray from where he stood in the kitchen, wearing nothing but a t-shirt and boxers. “You want me to help you find a demon, then exorcise that demon so that the other demon inside of you – that I apparently summoned while drunk – can get back into his body.”

“He’s not very bright, is he?” Natsu said. “I told you he was a shitty warlock.”

Gray snorted and Lyon raised an eyebrow. “He says you’re a shitty warlock,” Gray explained. “And yes, that’s exactly what I need you to do. Can you help me or not?”

Lyon stared at Gray, then moved closer until they were nearly nose-to-nose and peered into his eyes. “I don’t believe you,” he said eventually.

“Why the hell would I lie about this?”

“’cause you probably just took something you shouldn’t have last night and you’re still hallucinating.”

Continue reading on AO3

Gray groaned in exasperation. “You’re the one who did the goddamn spell!” Then he glared at Lyon, adding, “Why did you do it, anyway?”

“Ex,” Natsu reminded him. Gray’s eyes flicked up to his blurry reflection in the microwave. Natsu’s image was standing directly behind him, so close he almost had his chin on Gray’s shoulder. The look in his eyes was somewhere between disgust and amusement.

“You were pissed at Loke, weren’t you?” Gray asked. Lyon’s scowl gave him the confirmation he was looking for. “You seriously tried to summon a demon to… what, beat up your ex?”

“I wasn’t trying to summon a demon!” Lyon said, holding up his hands in surrender. “It was just some stupid spell from one of those forums online. It didn’t do anything.”

“Except it did.” Gray gestured vaguely to where Natsu’s reflection was behind him. “And now your stupidity is my problem.”

Lyon shook his head. “Demons aren’t even real,” he insisted. “Seriously, did you try the cookies from the top shelf of the pantry? ‘cause I’m pretty sure—”

“I’m not fucking high!” Gray snapped. He rubbed his temples where his headache was still lingering. “I’m not high,” he said again quietly. “I just want to fix this.” He looked back at Natsu’s reflection in the microwave. “Can you show him? Prove that I’m not crazy?”

Natsu hummed uncertainly, not meeting Gray’s gaze. “Yes,” he said. “But you’re not gonna like it.” Gray’s heart sunk. “I’d need to… take over,” Natsu said. “Everything. Just for a second.”

“You want me to let you…” Gray trailed off and pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes. All the conflicting emotions running through him – his and Natsu’s – were compounded by the heavy sense of fear that grew in his stomach.

“We can figure out something else,” Natsu said quickly. “Maybe I can—”

“It’s fine.” Gray forced the words out as he opened his eyes and looked back at Lyon’s puzzled face. “Just…” Lyon looked like he might say something, but Gray shook his head, holding up a hand. “Shut up and give me a second.”

He let out the tight breath in his chest, trying to relax the tension in his shoulders.

“I promise it’ll just be for a second,” Natsu said. He sounded regretful. “It’ll feel weird – like when I was petting the cat – but I won’t do anything scary. Well, it’ll be a bit scary for Lyon, but I’m not going to hurt you.”

Gray hesitated. Natsu had only been in his mind for less than a day, but something in Gray’s gut said that he could trust him, even if he was a demon.

“Okay, just make it quick.”

“What are you—”

Lyon’s words faded away as Gray exhaled, closing his eyes, and letting Natsu’s presence overwhelm his mind. It felt warm, like he was sitting next to a campfire and watching sparks flicker up into the sky. The tingling sensation that had filled him earlier came back in full force, leaving him feeling like his hands and feet had both fallen asleep.

When he opened his eyes again, everything looked red.

“Esaeun xnae ya qnuy.” The voice was his, but not his, rough and layered with words that felt too big and wrong for his mouth. They were unfamiliar, but somehow Gray could understand them – he’s telling the truth.

Lyon stared at Gray, eyes wide with terror. “Your eyes are glowing,” he managed.

“Yes. I’m a demon. They do that.” Natsu spoke in the same infernal language, but he sounded more irritated than angry. “I also have sharp claws and could rip your heart out if I felt like it, but I just ate a cinnamon bun and I’m in a forgiving mood. Now do the damn locator spell.”

As quickly as it had taken him over, the warmth and tingling in Gray’s body disappeared, and his vision quickly returned to normal. Lyon was still standing in front of him, but the expression of disbelief was gone, and now he just looked stunned.

“You okay?” Natsu asked in his own voice in the back of Gray’s mind.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Gray reassured him. “Are you convinced now?” he asked Lyon, who nodded slowly. “Good. Now get your shit together and help me figure this out.”

Natsu’s body was in the middle of nowhere.

“Well then,” Lyon said. He and Gray sat cross-legged on the floor of his bedroom and stared at the map where the black mark had settled – a little ways away from a tiny town called Belle Creek in the middle of the Rocky Mountains.

“It says only 26 people live there,” Gray said, looking at the information on his phone. “What the hell is a demon doing out in the mountains?”

“I thought he’d be somewhere big,” Natsu said. “A city, or something. Y’know, causing destruction and mayhem. Killing people. Demon stuff.”

“Maybe he’s retired,” Lyon said. Gray rolled his eyes.

“I don’t think demons retire.”

“Well, what else would he be doing in the middle of the mountains?”

“Hiding bodies?” Natsu suggested.

Gray sighed and rubbed his temples before looking back down at his phone. He flipped over to the maps and typed in ‘Belle Creek.’

“It’s ‘close,’ huh?” he said to Natsu, raising his eyebrow at the distance – nearly 45o0 kilometers. “That’s at least a three-day drive.”

“At least I got the right country!” Natsu insisted. “Three days isn’t a long time. Not when you’ve been around for almost two hundred years.”

“Well, I’ve only been around for twenty-six years,” Gray said. He looked up at Lyon, who was still staring at him with a baffled expression. “I need to borrow your car.”

“You… what?”

“Your car.” Gray shoved his phone back in his pocket and tapped the map. “I’m not taking the bus to the middle of fucking nowhere. And this is your fault, so I’m taking your car.”

“You can’t just…” Lyon looked down at the map, then back up at Gray. “What’s your plan? You’re just gonna drive out to this place and, what? Ask if anyone’s seen a demon in human skin? You don’t even know what he looks like.”

“Yes, I do.” Gray pointed to his reflection in the bedroom mirror where he could see Natsu, sitting next to him on the floor. Natsu stuck his tongue out at Gray, who rolled his eyes. “I can see him. He’ll be easy to find. Now, show me how to do an… exorcism, or whatever.”

“Or whatever?” Lyon made a sound of exasperation. “You can’t just—you have no idea what you’re doing. You don’t even have any magic! How are you gonna…”

“I’ll help,” Natsu said as Lyon continued to rant. He picked at his nails. “With the magic, I mean. I’d have to take over again, just for a little, but I could help, if you wanted. Unless you wanna bring him with you—” he gestured at Lyon “—but I doubt he’d be much help.”

Gray snorted. “I’m not spending six days in a car with this asshole,” he said, gesturing at Lyon, who stopped mid-rant and glared at him. “Just show me the spells,” Gray said. “Natsu can help me figure out the rest.”

An hour and a half later they were both back in the kitchen and Gray was shoving a handful of books and old parchments into his bag. Lyon leaned on the counter and gave Gray a serious look.

“Are you sure about this?” He hesitated, then added, “I know you haven’t been… great, not since she—”

“Shut up,” Gray said quickly, gritting his teeth. “I’ve told you a hundred times that I’m fine.” He could feel Natsu’s uncertainty as he turned away from Lyon and snatched his car keys from the hook on the wall, then grabbed the front door handle and swung it open with more force than necessary.

“Gray, I—”

“I can handle this.” Gray interrupted Lyon’s concerned words. He turned around in the doorway, doing his best to give Lyon a reassuring look. “I’ll be back in a week.”

Gray stood in the doorway to his bedroom, feeling the familiar sense of frustration and defeat as he stared at the piles of dirty clothes and dresser covered in empty coffee cups. He sighed, making his way to the closet, and searching for his duffle bag.

“What’s wrong?” Natsu asked. He’d been quiet the whole drive home, leaving Gray alone with his thoughts.

Gray shook his head. “Nothing. I just have to pack.” He gestured vaguely to the clothes.

“You’re sad again.”

“I’m not sad,” Gray snapped. “I’m…” He rubbed a hand over his face. “I’m just tired.”

“But it feels like sad,” Natsu said, sounding genuinely puzzled. Before Gray could get mad at him, he quickly added, “I’m not spying! I promise, you’re just – when your feelings are really strong, it’s hard for me to not feel them too. And I feel sad, not tired. It’s weird.”

Gray groaned, tossing the duffle bag on the bed, and rummaging through one of the piles until he found a few mostly clean shirts. As he started to pack up his toothbrush and razor, he gave in.

“My life has kinda sucked lately,” he said. He looked up into the mirror, where Natsu was meeting his gaze and listening intently. “A lot of shitty stuff happened where I used to live, and sometimes it makes me… tired. Of everything.”

“What happened?”

“I don’t wanna talk about it.” Gray shoved the toiletries bag into his duffle, then looked around the messy room. “It’s over and I live here now. I’m just trying to figure shit out and I don’t wanna think about any of that stuff. Okay?”

“Okay.”

Natsu was quiet as Gray headed to the front door and started to put on his shoes. Happy, who had been sleeping on the couch, stretched out and meandered over to them.

“Lyon’s gonna take care of you for a bit,” Gray said to Happy as he meowed and rubbed himself against Gray’s leg. “Feel free to bite him.”

Natsu laughed. “Can we pet him again?” he asked. “If not, that’s okay, I just—”

“Sure.” Gray ran his fingers over Happy’s head and scratched behind his ears. He registered Natsu’s surprise, then excitement, and then his arm started to tingle again. Now that he was expecting it, it wasn’t as strange. A warm sensation spread through him as he stroked Happy’s fur.

“You’re happy,” he murmured as he watched his hand with a strange detachment. Apparently feeling emotions went both ways. It was strange – the sensation of contentedness was familiar but alien at the same time.

“I love cats,” Natsu said, scratching Happy under the chin before dissolving his control over Gray’s arm. Gray stood up, looking over at Natsu’s excited expression in the mirror before shrugging on his coat.

“You ready?” he said as he shouldered the duffel bag. He spun Lyon’s keys around his fingers and let some of Natsu’s excitement take over as they headed out the door. “Let’s go get your body back.”

#fairy tail #gratsu #gratsuweekend2021 #gray fullbuster #natsu dragneel #fairy tail fanfiction #ft fanfic #update #new chapter #my fic #highway to hell

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deanstop13billyjoeltraxx · 3 years

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Superposition

a deancas college roommates AU

Dean Winchester had it all at Wichita State University — a second chance, a future devoid of his father, and a roommate-turned-best friend who understands him inside and out.

But his father dies, he fails out in his second semester, and Castiel Novak leaves without so much as a goodbye.

Three years later, Dean has picked up the pieces. He works at the most trusted auto-shop in Lawrence, he’s putting Sam through college. Dean thinks it can’t get much better than that.

Then Castiel Novak gives him a concussion, and everything falls apart. Again.

Chapter 2 is up on AO3 (and below the cut)! Tumblr chapter masterlist here.

Classic Rock and Other Foreign Concepts

Three Years Earlier

Castiel Novak was ready for his second chance.

Sure, the name “Wichita State University” held no cache, and sure, it was only two hours away from home. But it was a full ride, it was free of old high school acquaintances. It was enough.

Castiel stood at the door of his empty dorm room, hope blooming in his chest as he regarded the dingy bunks and linoleum floors.

He didn’t have much in the way of belongings, so moving in was quick and easy, even by himself. Castiel made his bed, hung up his limited outfits in the dresser, and filled his desk with his books and paper. Only one thing remained in his suitcase — a picture of his family, two Christmases ago. Castiel took it out and looked at it for a moment, before deciding to place it on his desk.

He decided it might be a good idea to familiarize himself with his new surroundings. That was sure to calm down the inevitable anxiety that his first trip to the showers would bring. Castiel strolled down the hallway, doing his best to stay out of the way of all of the other freshmen moving in on his floor.

After successfully discovering the bathroom and the water fountain, as well as narrowly avoiding an awkward encounter with two giggling girls who were apparently intent upon introducing themselves to him, he returned to his room with a sigh.

Castiel moved to his desk and opened his computer. He pulled up his course schedule, reviewing it again, despite having already committed it to memory. Tuesdays and Thursdays would be difficult, he thought, with financial accounting, economics, and an intro to business. The other days were more interesting, holding philosophy, creative writing, and nineteenth century British literature.

Castiel was about to read the class descriptions for the millionth time when a loud thud and a grunt interrupted his thoughts. He stood up, fast, almost knocking his head on the bottom of his bed. Castiel got to his open door just in time to almost run into someone.

“Shit! Watch it, man!”

Castiel found himself face to face with… Plastic storage bins. The man holding them shifted to reveal a mild scowl. Castiel cleared out of his way, and the man set the three boxes down.

“Sorry,” Castiel muttered.

“You’re fine,” the man grumbled. “Sorry, long drive.”

“Dean Winchester, I presume?” Castiel said, cautiously. He had seen his roommate assignment online weeks earlier.

“Damn straight,” Dean said, and he offered a hand out to Castiel, who accepted it graciously. “Sorry, man, I’m terrible with names. Have we met?”

“I’m Castiel Novak,” Castiel replied, then added, “We haven’t met, but the website informed me of your name and email address. I emailed you a few weeks back.”

Dean nodded. “I definitely didn’t respond. Sorry ‘bout that, I kind of haven’t had access to the internet in… Well, it’s a long story. Anyway, good to meet you.”

“You as well. Do you need any help unpacking?”

“Least you can do after nearly killing me.” Castiel tensed, but then Dean clapped him on the back. “Kidding. Help would be great.”

Castiel moved to unpack the box nearest him, but Dean stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“No! Uh, not that one. No offense, but that’s the most important thing I own. Give me a second, you can start on this one.”

Castiel tilted his head in inquisition, but Dean said nothing more, just got to unpacking the bin. Castiel set to work on the second of the three, first grabbing the sheets to make the bed.

When Castiel had finished with Dean’s bed, he turned to see Dean had set up a record player and a pair of bookshelf speakers on the floor.

“Behold,” Dean announced. “My prized possession.”

“A record player?” Castiel asked.

“Not just the record player,” Dean said. He went back to the box, which Castiel could now see was filled with vinyl LPs. “The whole collection.”

“It’s quite impressive.”

“Fuckin’ A-right,” Dean said. “Here, you like Zeppelin?”

“Embarrassingly, I have no idea who that is,” Castiel said, blushing.

Dean’s eyes widened. “Dude! No way! Oh man, it’s time to educate you. How have you survived this long Zeppelin-less?”

“My father was strict about music.” Castiel felt suddenly very nervous that this, combined with his near-toppling of Dean moments earlier, would have him solidly fixed on Dean’s bad side. But Dean was flipping through his records with animation, as if Castiel’s ignorance was a game to be won.

“That’s utter bullshit,” Dean declared. “Here, listen to this.”

Dean put on Led Zeppelin IV. Castiel turned back to the plastic bins, intent upon doing something while the record played. He was quiet as he worked, setting up first an ancient-looking coffee maker, then a small, LCD monitor. Dean unpacked his clothes, quietly singing along to the music.

“Do you need help with the rest?” Castiel asked when they had finished, assuming there had to be more than just those three boxes. Dean chuckled quietly.

“Nah, this is it. Thanks for the help, Castiel.”

Castiel raised an eyebrow, but only said, “You’re welcome.” Dean had brought even less than he had.

“That’s a weird name, by the way,” Dean said, turning the volume down on the speakers. “Castiel. It sounds kind of --”

“Ancient?” Castiel supplied, and Dean nodded. “That’s because it is. It’s adapted from the name of an angel in the third book of Enoch.” At Dean’s blank look, Castiel added, “Christian apocryphal lore. My parents are very religious.”

“Ah,” Dean said. “And you…?”

“Haven’t been to church since I was fourteen,” Castiel finished. “We are very different, my family and I.”

Dean nodded. “That them?” He asked, pointing at the picture on Castiel’s desk.

“Yes,” Castiel said.

“That’s a lot of kids.”

“Yes, there’s five of us.”

“Road trips must have been fun,” Dean said.

This actually got a laugh out of Castiel.

“I’ve only got one. My kid brother, Sam,” Dean said.

“How old is Sam?”

“God.” Dean rubbed his face, considering. “I guess he’s fourteen now. It’s weird — I feel like I can never see him as any older than, like, eight.”

“I can’t say I understand,” Castiel replied. “I’m the youngest.”

“Damn, that must suck, four older siblings. What’re their names?”

Castiel picked up the picture. “The boy on the left — he’s the oldest — that’s Gabriel. The other is Bartholomew. The redhead is Anna. And then there’s Hannah, she’s just a couple years older than me.”

Dean nodded, moving to his record player. He pulled a small, worn piece of paper from the inside.

“This is old as hell,” he said, showing Castiel the picture, “but that’s my dad, and that’s Sam when he was… ten, maybe?”

“It’s just the three of you?”

“Yeah, my mom died when I was, like, four.”

“I apologize, I didn’t mean to --”

“No worries, man,” Dean said. “Long time ago.”

There was an awkward pause that made Castiel want to open his computer just to look preoccupied, but Dean spoke.

“I’m sorry, I can’t get over this name stuff. I can’t be roommates with a dude named after an angel.”

Castiel felt his entire body deflate. Day one, and just his name was already making things difficult. “I’m… Sure there’s a way to switch roommates. But, what’s wrong with being named after an angel?”

“Dude, I was totally joking,” Dean said, putting his hands up defensively. “I’m not switching roommates — unless you’re secretly a vampire or something.” Castiel smiled at that. “And there’s nothing wrong with it, I’m just not into the whole religion thing. Makes me feel weird. Nah, I’ll just have to call you something else. Any suggestions?”

“I’ve always just been ‘Castiel.’”

“Man, haven’t had many creative friends,” Dean said. “Cas it is, then.”

“Cas?” Castiel replied. He considered the new nickname. Castiel actually found it strange that no one had ever thought of it before, now that he had heard it. “I suppose it is a great deal shorter.”

“Easier to say, too,” Dean said. “It fits.”

Castiel smiled tentatively. “Sure.”

The music faded, and Dean flipped the record to the B-side.

“What do you think so far?” He asked.

“It’s certainly different than what I’m used to. In a good way,” Castiel added.

Dean beamed at him. “Awesome. I have more in here, too, and it’s not just Zep. Mostly the classics — the Stones, Rush, AC/DC… And a shit load of grunge, too. Man, wait til you hear Alice in Chains…”

Castiel smiled at his animation. “Music is important to you?”

“Dude, I couldn’t function without music. I feel like every time I listen to a song I like, I find something new that makes it even better.” Dean chuckled to himself. “Sorry, I’m geeking out about classic rock.”

“I don’t mind,” Castiel said, and he found that it was true. “I feel similarly about books.”

“You like to read?”

“Immensely.”

“You’ll have to give me some recommendations. I read Vonnegut in high school, and that was cool, but other than that and Harry Potter I think I’m pretty hopeless.”

“I will,” Castiel said, even though he knew he wouldn’t, even though he knew Dean was simply saying the polite thing. He had learned by now that when people asked about him to talk about the things he liked, they were just being nice.

Dean asked Castiel which end of the hall the bathrooms were on, and excused himself.

When he returned, Dean clapped his hands together. “So,” he said. “I gotta ask you the Freshman Questions.” At Castiel’s confused look, he elaborated: “You know, the two things you ask everyone for your whole freshman year. Where are you from, what are you majoring in?”

Castiel nodded. “I see. I didn’t know there was a procedure.”

Dean looked at him for a moment. “It’s not — I was kinda joking.”

“Oh. Right,” Castiel said, rubbing his neck. “Well, I’m from Guthrie — it’s a small town in Oklahoma, just a few hours south of here. And I’m studying accounting and creative writing.”

“Guthrie… I’ve driven through there, on our way to Oklahoma City for a job my dad worked once,” Dean said.

“It’s not very impressive.”

Dean laughed. “Nah, not really.”

“What about you, Dean?”

“I’m from Lawrence — it’s northeast of here. And I have no fucking idea what I’m gonna major in,” he said. “I’m not really… Well, Sam is the smart one. That kid is gonna kick ass when he goes to school. I’m kinda just here to…” Dean trailed off.

“Experience it?” Castiel suggested. Dean shrugged.

“Yeah, I guess.” He cleared his throat. “Why accounting? I get the writing thing, you said you like books — but accounting? I feel like those two don’t mix.”

“They don’t,” Castiel agreed. “But I don’t want to be a starving author. I do want to be able to take care of myself.” I want to be far, far away from everything I’ve ever known. I want to leave and never look back.

“Fair,” Dean said. “I don’t know about you, Cas, but I’m starving. Wanna grab some dinner?”

“Sure,” Castiel said with a smile.

The next day, in his first creative writing class, the professor asked each of them to share their major, their hometown, and a fun fact. He called, “Novak, Castiel?”

“Double major in accounting and writing. I’m from Guthrie, Oklahoma. I suppose a fun fact is that I’m named after an angel, but you can just call me Cas.”

#superposition #destiel #supernatural #fanfic #deancas #castiel #dean winchester

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brown-bi-beautiful · 4 years

Text

Supernatural Series Rewrite

Supernatural Rewrites Masterlist

Dean Winchester x named reader

Series Warning: language violence, angst, fluff, sexual content, Gore, molestation, mention of sexual harassment, usual supernatural violence. (If you’re triggered by any of these then please don’t read)

(A/n- I had to give the reader a name, there’s reason behind it but you can change it if you want. I changed some of the plot and some of the scenes but mostly it’s the same. I do not own the supernatural series but there are some things that are completely my imagination, it has nothing to do with the actual mythology or the series)

Bloody Mary (part 3)

Season One. Episode Six.

Skin (Part 1)

Dean pulled up to an crappy gas station and turned off the engine. "Alright, I figured we'd hit Tucumcari by lunch. Then head south, hit Bisbee by midnight." He started telling the plan for the week now that you guys don't have any case. "Sam wears woman's underwear." Dean continues when he noticed that Sam wasn't paying attention, this made you chuckle.

"I've been listening, I'm just busy." Sam replied while doing something on his palm pilot.

"Busy doing what?" Dean asked as he got out of the car and you did the same to stretch your legs out. You've been sitting in that back seat for an awful long time. "Reading emails." Sam replied. "emails from who?" Dean asked as he walked around the car to the other side. "from my friends at Stanford." he said and you rolled your eyes. Of course he had friends in Stanford other than Jessica, he wasn't a freak like you.

"You kidding? You still keep in touch with your college buddies?" Dean scoffed and started filling gas in the car.

"why not?" Sam asked.

"Well..... What exactly do you tell 'em? You know, about where you've been, what you been doing?" He asked leaning against the car beside you and looking at Sam through the window.

"I tell 'em I'm on a road trip with my big brother and Alex. I tell 'em I needed some time off after Jess."

"well, so you lie to them." Dean commented.

"No. I just don't tell them everything."

"yeah. Th-that's called lying, Sam." you chipped in. "Hey, I get it. Telling them the truth is far worse." said Dean.

"So what am I supposed to do? Just cut everybody out of my life?" Sam asked and Dean shrugged. "you're serious?"

"Look, it sucks. But a job like this, you can't get close to people, period." Dean said.

"you're kind of antisocial. You know that?"

"Dean's kinda right, Sam. I mean, look at me, I don't talk to anyone from college." you said.

"That's because you didn't have any friends in college beside Jessica." he said making you gasp slightly.

"That's so not true. I had friends." you made a weak attempt at defending yourself.

"oh really, name one of your 'friends'." he said giving you a challenging look. You looked at Dean who was looking at you with an raised eyebrow.

"There was..... Umm... There was that guy, in the Halloween party. Oh and there was Toby."

"what? Toby wasn't your friend, you broke his face." he scoffed.

"ya, because I considered him a really close friend."

"oh yeah?...what was his full name?"

"ummm.... Maguire?" you asked making both of them laugh. "yeah whatever. I didn't have any friends. You were the cool guy." you said crossing your arms over your chest and rolling your eyes.

Dean wrapped his one arm around you when he saw Sam wasn't noticing. "Don't listen to him, you're awesome and anyone would die to have a friend like you." He whispered making you chuckle. "I know." you whispered back. You grabbed his collar and pulled him down for a kiss but before his lips could meet yours you heard Sam gasp "God."

"what?" Dean asked leaning down to his window you rolled your eyes and muttered "Cockblocker."

You have no idea what you and Dean actually are, but you guys have been doing weird couply things for a week now, like holding hands under the table, sneaking kisses when Sam doesn't look, But you haven't gone farther than those kisses. Everytime you guys try to make out something interrupts, and that 'something' is mostly the younger Winchester.

"uh, this email from this girl, Rebecca, one of those friends of mine." Sam said.

"is she hot?" Dean asked and you hit him from the behind.

"I went to school with her and her brother Zach. She says Zach's been charged with murder. He's been arrested for killing his girlfriend. Rebecca says he didn't do it. But sounds like the cops have a pretty good case." Sam explained and you leaned down beside Dean to listen closely.

"Dude, what kind of people are you hanging out with? "

"No, man. I know Zach. He's no killer."

"Well, maybe you know Zach as well as he knows you." you said standing up straight.

"They're in St. Louis. We're going." Sam said making your eyes wide a little.

"Look, I'm sorry about your buddy but this does not sound like our kind of problem." Dean said with a slight chuckle.

"it is our problem. They're my friends." Sam argued.

"St. Louis is 400 miles behind us, Sam." Dean said.

"He's right, Dean. We could at least check it out." you said and he turned around with a raised eyebrow. "come on. I would hate it if there's any chance that we can help and we don't." you said giving him the puppy eyes. He sighed and said "Fine, get in." before getting in the driver seat and slamming the door.

Dean turned the so fast that you almost fell off the back seat. "Jeez." you said. Six hours of ride and Dean kept glaring at you through the rear view mirror.

Dean finally pulled up in front of the address. It was a nice little house. You guys walked up to the front porch and Sam knocked on the door. A blond girl opened up and you squinted your eyes trying to remember her.

She looked a little enthusiastic when she saw Sam. "oh my god, Sam."

"well, if it isn't little Becky." Sam said. You looked up at Dean and saw he couldn't take his eyes off of 'little Becky.'

"you know what you can do with that 'little Becky' crap." She said and pulled Sam in for a hug. Although as soon as her eyes fell on you her smile faded, turning into a fake one clearly filled with disgust.

"Alex. You're here too." She said pulling away from Sam.

"yeah. And you know me." you gave her a even faker smile than hers.

"oh we met at the fresher's party. Remember?" She said and you faked remembering it.

"oh yeah, I do." you quickly turned to Dean and mouthed "I don't." It was getting a little awkward between the two of you so Sam spoke up. "I got your email."

"I didn't think that you would come here."

"Dean, older brother." Dean said introducing himself. "Hi." She said.

"we are here to help. Whatever we can do." Sam said. "come in." She stepped aside and letting you guys in.

"Nice place." Dean commented as you guys got further inside.

"It's my parent's. I was just crashing here for the weekend when everything happened. I decided to take the semester off. I'm gonna stay until Zach's free. She said as she led you guys inside.

"where are your folks? " Sam asked.

"They live in Paris for half the year. So they are on their way home now for the trial." She said as you guys stopped at the living area.

"You guys want a beer?" before anyone could say anything she said again. "oh, sorry. I forgot you're under aged." She said looking at you. "I still have no idea how you got into Stanford." she clearly hated you and you had no idea why. "No we're fine." Sam chipped in once more to save everyone from the awkwardness. "so tell us what happened?"

"well, um, Zach, he came home and he found Emily tied to a chair. And she was beaten up and bloody and she wasn't breathing and so he- he called 911. And the police, they showed up and arrested him. But the thing is the only way that Zach could have killed Emily is if he was in two places at the same time. The police they have a video. Its from the security tape from across the street. And it shows Zach coming home at 10:30. Now, Emily was killed just after that. But I swear, he was here with me having a few beers at least after mid night." Rebecca explained the whole situation to the three of you.

"You know, maybe we could see the crime scene, Zach's house." Sam said. "we could?" you asked raising an eyebrow.

"Why? I mean what could you do?" Rebecca asked Sam.

"well, me, not so much but Dean's a cop." Sam said making you chuckle slightly.

"A detective actually." Dean corrected, obviously trying to impress the blonde.

"Really? Where?" She asked.

"Bisbee, Arizona. But I'm off duty now." Dean said.

"you guys, it's so nice to offer, but I just, I don't know." Rebecca said looking unsure about the whole situation.

"Beck, look. I know Zach didn't do this. Now we have to find a way to prove that he's innocent." Sam said softly trying to convince her.

"okay, I'm gonna go get the key." Rebecca said walking away to get the keys.

Dean walked around Sam to where Rebecca was standing before, whistling. "oh, yeah man. You're a real straight shooter with your friends." Dean said making you roll your eyes. If you didn't hate her enough, you sure do now.

"Look Zach and Becky need our help-" Sam started but Dean cut him off.

"I just don't think this is our kind of problem." Dean said.

"No I think it is. I mean the guy was 2 places at once? We've looked into less." you said, finally making the older Winchester see the point.

Dean stopped the car in front of Zach's house. "you're sure this is okay?" Rebecca asked as the four of you got out of the car. "ya, I'm an officer of the law." Dean said as you ducked under the yellow tape and got inside Zach's house followed by Sam. "Beck, you wanna wait outside?" Sam asked when he saw Rebecca hesitating to come in. "No, I wanna help." She said and got inside as well. There was blood splattered everywhere. You saw a picture frame of Zach And who you assume, his girlfriend.

"Tell us what else the police said." you questioned forgetting for a second that she hates your guts for some reason.

"Well, that there was no sign of a break in. They say that Emily let her attacker in. And the lawyers, they're already talking about a plea bargain." She said, maybe also forgetting that she hated you. Rebecca Started sobbing again as she looked around at all the blood and you felt bad for her. "look, Beck... If Zach didn't do this it means someone else did. Any idea who? " Sam asked and she shook her head but then she seemed to o remember something. "um there was something. About a week before, someone broke in here. They stole some clothes, zach's clothes. And the police they don't think it's anything. We were not that far from downtown. I mean sometimes people just get robbed." Rebecca said as you looked around the house for any sort of evidence.

A dog started barking and it became louder as Dean opened the door and looked out through the crack. You walked over to look over his shoulder. His barking became louder as he saw you guys. "You know that used to be the sweetest dog." Rebecca said coming up to you and Dean. "What happened?" He asked. "He just changed."

"You remember when he changed?" you asked.

“I guess around the time of the murder." She answered and you rolled your eyes, as if it wasn't enough weird already. You turn and walked over to Sam who was looking at a picture of him with Rebecca and Zach over the fridge.

"So the neighbour's dog went psycho right around the time Zach's girlfriend was killed." You said informing the younger Winchester about the new information you learnt.

"Animals can have a sharp sense of paranormal." Sam replied.

"Yes, maybe Fido saw something." Dean said as he walked over to where you and his younger brother were having an conversation. You turned with the small smirk and asked, "So you think maybe this is our kind of problem?"

"Nah, Probably not, but we should look at the security tape to make sure." He replied and you and Sam shared a look. "yeah." Sam agreed with a slight smirk That matched yours.

Dean turned to talk to Rebecca as she started her way toward you three." So the tape, the, uh, security footage? Think your lawyers could get their hands on it? I don't have that kind of jurisdiction."

"I've already got it." She said and you raised an eyebrow. I didn't wanna say anything in front of the cop. I um, I stole it off the lawyer's desk. I just had to see it for myself." She added and you have to say it impressed you a little.

"Alright." Dean said and gestured for her to lead the way. You stared at the picture of Rebecca and Zach with Sam for a few seconds before following the boys out of the house.

"Here he comes." She said as all of you sat in her living room looking at the security footage that was mentioned before. Dean was sitting next to Rebecca on the sofa and you were standing next to Sam.

"22:04, that's just after 10:00. You said time of death was about 10:30." said Dean, looking at the blonde sitting beside him.

"our lawyers hired some kind of video expert. He says the tapes authentic. It wasn't tampered with." Rebecca said as you watched the tape closely. You saw as Zach, or at least who was supposed to be Zach walked around and as soon as he looked at the camera you saw a weird glow in his eyes, just for a split second. You looked at Sam to realize he noticed it too because he gave you the look that you were about to give him.

"Hey, Beck, Can we take those beers now?" Sam said turning toward the blond. "oh sure." she said walking towards kitchen. “Hey, uh, maybe sandwiches too." Sam added when he realised this might take a little more time to discuss. She laughed and said "what do you think this is, Hooters?"

Dean laughed at the terrible joke and mumbled "I wish." which made you roll your eyes. "What is it?" He asked and walked over to you and Sam.

"Check this out." Sam said rewinding the tape and then playing it on slow motion to show Dean.

"Maybe it's just a camera flare." Dean said

"That's not like any camera flare I've ever seen. You know a lot of cultures believe a photograph can catch a glimpse of soul. Remember that dog that was freaking out? Maybe he saw this thing maybe, this is some kind of dark double of Zach's something that looks like him but isn't him?" You explained your theory to the boys but more to Dean.

"Like a doppelganger?" He asked.

"yeah. That'd sure explain how he was two places at once." Sam said and with that Rebecca walked out balancing three sandwiches and two beers in both of her hands. "I didn't know if I should give you a beer in front of a cop." She said looking at you and then at Dean.

"it's ok. I wasn't really in the mood either." you said taking a bite out of the sandwich she handed you.

Dean pulled infront of a Motel and you guys walked towards the front desk. You started hoping that you guys wouldn't find two different rooms so you could get an excuse to share a bed with Dean but when the hell was your luck ever on your side, of course, there are two different rooms available.

You could always just ask him to sneak into your room But you definitely weren't going to admit it out loud to him that you wanted to share bed with him, That will only boost his ego. So without any complain you grabbed your duffel bag and took the key from Sam and made your way to room number 11. It was one in the farthest corner And you noticed there were three more rooms between yours and the boy's which made you scowl even more.

You got inside the room and locked it behind you. You quickly freshen up and changed into something comfortable, a shirt of Sam you stole a while ago and pyjama pants. Normally you would do some research instead of going to bed but today you just weren't in the mood so you got inside the sheets of the motel bed which smelled like some really rough detergent.

You didn't dare closing your eyes, already knowing what was coming for you in your dreams so you just lied there awake staring at the ceiling. After what felt like an hour but a few minutes at the same time you heard a series of soft knocking on the door of your motel room.

You huffed and got up from your bed annoyed that someone would dare to disturb you at this time. "What?" you yelled you open the door, but regretted it as soon as you a pair of green eyes staring at you innocently and not just any pair of eyes, your favourite ones.

"I'm sorry, is this a bad time?" He asked not wanting to invade your privacy.

"No, No, it's fine, get in." You quickly poked your head out and looked around to see if Sam was somewhere in sight. "so?" You said turning to look at Dean who was now standing in front of your bed.

"I was really hoping we could share a bed tonight." He confessed making a smile.

"Really? Me too." You finally admitted knowing there was no point of hiding it now.

"Then maybe we could share a bed tonight." He suggested with a shrug.

"wouldn't Sam be suspicious?" you asked taking a step closer.

"No, He'll think I'm hooking up with some girl." He said.

"Well, aren't you?" You asked taking your final step and standing right in front of him.

"Nope, you are not just 'some girl'." He answered wrapping his arms around your waist pulling you even more closer. Not just physically, the more you stared at those Apple green eyes the more you found Your soul being pulled to him and as cliche as it sounds you are practically lost in him.

That's when you realised your lips were almost touching. You made the final move pushing yourself on your tippy toes pressing your lips to his. He started kissing back immediately like he was waiting for you to do this the entire day. You both fell back on the bed the kiss not breaking even for a second.

You don't even know when you guys fell asleep in each other's arms. But what you do know is not even a single Nightmare there to come home to that night.

*******

Part 2

Taglist:

@rach5ive @paintballkid711 @chubby-dumplin @hobby27 @colie87 @iilooveereadiingfiics @spnchick1996 @greenarrowhead @for-a-brothers-love @deanw-is-pretty @puppies-make-me-extra-happy @eternaleviee @slytherinrising

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pi-cat000 · 5 years

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MSA time travel idea (part 32)

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, Vivi POV, 8, 9, 10, Lewis POV, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, Lance POV 18, 19, Lewis POV 2, 21 , 22, Vivi POV 2, 24, 25 Lewis POV 3, Mystery POV , Vivi POV 3, 29, Lewis POV 4, 31

Part 33: here

VIVI POV

"Which of you alerted hospital staff to Lance Kingman’s condition?”

The officer steps into the room and Vivi spots a second man behind him. Lewis stands to greet them, and Vivi lets him take the lead. Conversation washes over her, buzzing like an annoying fly in the background. With all the new information being dropped into her lap, she is finding it difficult to think clearly.

‘Just because it’s weird, doesn’t mean we should discount it.’ How many times had she said that? A lot apparently, if Lewis is quoting it. But how does one fit all the weird things together into something coherent?

She loosely remembers Lewis and Arthur talking about an almost violent encounter with some leather-wearing wacko, but that had occurred at least a week before Arthur’s odd behaviour began. If the man was threatening Arthur for whatever reason, surely she would have seen some signs earlier instead of a steamily overnight change.

Why even mention ‘demon possession’ if that were the case. It didn't exactly add to the mysterious stranger's credibility in the 'find Arthur' department.

What did any of this even mean?

Vivi's not on Lewis's level when it came to reading and sympathising with people, but she is good at connecting actions to motivation. Nothing happened in a vacuum, there was always a cause and effect. There had to be some critical fact missing because, while some things fit together, others were completely random. Vivi exhales loudly, shifting her focus back onto Lewis. All she is doing is going over the same data points and hitting the same inconstancies. Futile.

“I’m a friend of his nephew, Arthur Kingsman. We heard Lance was in the hospital and came to offer support. It took us several hours to get here though,” Lewis is speaking, sounding confident and self-assured. He is talking in his ‘I'm dealing with people I don’t want to deal with, but I’m still going to be friendly’ voice. Unlike her and Arthur, Lewis is usually happy to interact with strangers, so she doesn’t hear this voice often.

“…We drove from Oak Ridge.”

Vivi, from her seated position, examines the two policemen more thoroughly. They don’t seem overly worried about her and Lewis, asking questions in a professional, concise manner. She has missed the introductions, so she doesn’t know either of their names.

“That’s pretty far off. Do you live there?”

“No. We were on a road trip. Arthur, he was with us, but he came back a few hours ahead.”

“Hmm. Have you see Arthur since then?”

“No,” A note of exhaustion is now creeping into Lewis’s tone like he has answered this question already.

“And you came straight to the hospital after arriving in Milton.”

“Yes."

There is a nod like the officer has just confirmed something important and Vivi realises that, if Lance had been attacked again -the officers hadn’t exactly confirmed anything yet- then Arthur is looking mighty suspicious. Arthur would never hurt his Uncle. But these guys didn’t know that. Statistically, these sort of things are usually a result of inter-family conflict.

“I met a weird guy in the car park who was looking for Arthur,” She pipes up, going with her ‘I’m just a dumb kid, what do I know’ voice, “Does that help?”

She has no problem throwing the mysterious stranger under the bus. Especially if the running theory, that the man is threatening Arthur, is true.

“We are not discounting anything. Which car park was this Miss Yukino?”

“It’s Vivi.” Lewis must have introduced her already. “It was the car park near the open mall. He had dark hair, a beard, wore a leather vest and had a bunch of bandages over his side like he’d been in a fight.”

The second man writes something down in his phone, frowning. There. Hopefully, that would throw their attention off Arthur and, to a lesser extent, her and Lewis. On top of everything, Vivi doesn’t want Arthur becoming a suspect in an attack on his own Uncle.

“Oh right!” She says brightly, standing, “Here.” She hands over the business card with the number. She has two of them, so it wasn’t like she was going to miss it.

“He gave me this. Maybe it'll help.”

Perplexed, the officer takes the card.

“So is Uncle Lance okay? What exactly happened? The hospital hasn’t told us much.”

“We’re really worried,” Lewis tacks on, from where he’s been watching Vivi’s attempts to subtly throw attention off Arthur.

At this, the second officer, the one who had been quiet up until now, steps forward. When he speaks his voice is warmer, accented in a way she can’t place, and not quite so coolly professional.

“Unfortunately, with the ongoing investigation, the hospital isn’t releasing any information on Lance Kingsman. We’ll look into this strange man …so there’s no need to worry.”

“But…”

“It’s late, and Hospital visiting hours are ending. You said you drove from Oaks Ridge? That’s a long drive, so the two of you should head home and get some rest." Lewis makes to interject, but the officer puts a reassuring hand on his shoulder, cutting him off.

"Nothing is going to happen between now and tomorrow. You are better off waiting in a more comfortable environment and coming back. Besides, you’re friend, Arthur, if he hasn’t been through here already, is more likely to turn up somewhere familiar. If you see him at all, tell him to get in contact. He’s not in trouble or anything, but we’d like to ask some questions.”

Vivi crosses her arms and has to clamp her jaw shut to prevent herself from saying something rude. That would just get them into trouble. She lets Lewis handle the rest of the interaction, watching, disgruntled, as Lewis relays their addresses and phone numbers in case they are needed for follow-up questions.

“Tempo? I have a sister up there. A cute town that one,” The second officer comments, apparently surprised.

“It’s cosy…” Lewis shrugs loosely, prompting, “How long has she been in Tempo for?”

Yeah. If by ‘cosy’ Lewis meant suffocating, then sure.

“…Last five years. Here,” A photo is pulled from the man’s wallet. “See. That’s my Niece. Cute an’t’ she”

Lewis nods along, scanning the photo, commenting thoughtfully, “Her name wouldn’t be Sarah Arias? I think I’ve seen them in the diner a few times…It’s a small town.”

“Haha. That wouldn’t happen to be the big purple building? She loves purple, so it’s the only one they go to.”

“Yeah, my parents own it.”

“That place has some crazy spicy food. Hey, Anderson… Maybe you should go there sometime.”

Vivi notes that ‘Anderson,’ has pretty much checked out of the conversation, focused on writing notes.

“Call me Michael by the way. Here, hold on. This is the department number and here is my extension,” He rips out a page, writing as he goes, “I work for Downtown Milton. Ask for me if you have any trouble, or your friend shows up. We’ll get this sorted, no problems. Anderson here is from the big city so he’s dealt with all sorts and cases.”

After more empty reassurances, promising that Lance was ‘probably going to be okay’ and ‘this hospital is one of the best in the state,’ they are escorted by Michael to the hospital’s main door. Most of the people in the foyer are gone, leaving it deserted. Two other officers are standing off to the side, attempting to be discrete. So that excluded sneaking back in and interrogating hospital staff. Not that she thought it would do them much good.

Her and Lewis step back through the hospital’s entrance. Michael disappears, returning to his partner. It is telling when Lewis immediately slumps, sighing loudly.

“Here,” Lewis hands her the number, rubbing his face. She doesn’t know what to do with it, but she slips it into her purse anyway. They share a long tired look. Exhaustion is mirrored across both of their faces. Now what?

She is tired. Lewis is tired. They've been up since six, and it has been nonstop emotional curveballs since. That, coupled with eight hours of continuous driving, is probably contributing to the sudden wave of helpless defeat weighing on her chest. Now there is no obvious goal to work towards, she is at a loss.

The sky is quickly darkening, and it’s a hundred times windier than when she entered the hospital. Vivi’s hair blows about every which way, getting into her eyes and mouth. Lewis doesn't fare much better. Whereas usually, this would be a prime opportunity for some light teasing, right now, defeat is killing any amusement to be had. All she has is questions. No answers. No idea where Arthur is or whether Uncle Lance will be okay. All this effort and nothing to show for it.

"That doesn't look good," Lewis interrupts their moment of silent commiseration, nodding to the clouds which are blocking out the remaining sun, hastening nightfall.

"I dunno...always nice to have some mood lighting," She grouches. Shitty weather to reflect their shitty situation. They trudge back to the truck, huddling together, Vivi using Lewis's lager form as a windbreak.

"I can drop you at your place on the way to mine? If you want. I’ll pick you up in the morning. We can be back at the hospital first thing," Lewis offers, voice almost too quiet to hear over the wind.

"No.” She says it bluntly, too tied to beat around the social bush, “I’m staying with you."

Her and Lewis are sticking together until all this, whatever it was, is over. Despite her mental and physical fatigue, she knows there isn’t going to be a lot of sleeping going on. Not with so much stuff crowding her mind. Better to use that time planning and theorising with Lewis. Maybe, she can also think up some new goal to pursue.

"Okay," Lewis nods, giving the smallest of smiles and Vivi punches him affectionately on the shoulder. He has no right looking that relieved.

The truck is easily spotted in the quickly emptying parking lot. Mystery is still in the cab, paws on the window, attention glued to them as they approach. He doesn't do his usual happy-dog-reunion-routine when Vivi lets him out, instead sniffing at her legs in an almost urgent manner.

"I need to call mama and let her know we're coming home. Would you drive?" Lewis draws her attention away from Mystery. She motions with an ‘up’ gesture and the dog leaps into her arms in a practised action. She runs a hand through his fur in a calming motion.

"Yeah. I'm fine with that. Is there going to be room for me to…”

“You know there’s always space for you at my place,” Lewis anticipates her question, “Besides, it has barely been 24 hours since we left, so the mattress you slept on is probably still set up.”

The mention of time sours both their expressions. Hard to think that all this drama has occurred within 24 hours.

Vivi makes her way around to the driver’s seat, preparing for another bumpy ride as she re-familiarises herself with the truck. Mystery squashes himself between them and spends a long moment staring intently at her profile. It's kind of weird. When Lewis takes out his phone, she is distracted, dividing her attention between eavesdropping on his call and the road. It becomes significantly harder when Lewis transitions to Spanish because her understanding of it is rudimentary at best. Still, she can make a few assumptions based on his tone, like how he answers with an almost fake-sounding happy voice then transitions to somewhat exasperated, meaning he is probably talking to one of his sisters. A shift to a more tired and exhausted sound means he’s talking to his mom.

Vivi is so focused on Lewis that she almost rams straight into a motorbike when it pulls unexpectantly out in front of her.

“Shit,” She swears and swerves to avoid the suicidal idiot. Mystery is knocked over and almost off the seat entirely.

Quickly, Vivi winds down the window, shouting at the disappearing figure, “HEY! WHY DON’T YOU LEAN TO DRIVE!” The motorbike’s engine revs as if in response. Behind her, a car sounds its horn.

“HEY…” Before she can start yelling at the car as well, Lewis’s calmer voice intrudes.

“No. I’m okay. It’s Vivi. She’s road raging.”

She turns to glare, “I am not road raging. That looney cut out right in front of me. He’s lucky he isn’t dead.”

Lewis raises a brow and returns to talking in Spanish. She huffs, letting her irritation simmer down. The motorcycle is gone now, but she glares after it, rewinding the window to keep out the dust and wind.

They arrive at Pepper Paradiso just after sunset to her relief. She is definitely not experienced enough to drive a foreign vehicle at night. Not when the roads around Tempo are poorly lit, and the thick clouds overhead are completely blocking out both the moon and stars, making the night darker than average. Occasionally, Vivi sees a flash of lightning off in the distance.

“I told mama about Arthur being missing and that Lance is in hospital,” Lewis says as they pull in. He is rubbing his face in a tired motion she mirrors a second later.

“Yeah? What did she say.” Lewis’s mom was, in a word, stoic. She is a person Vivi tries very hard to impress even with repeated reassurances that it was unneeded.

“Not much. Only that everything is worse when you’re tired, and there will be food waiting.”

“Oh…” Vivi doesn’t really know what to say. Usually, the thought of a Pepper prepared dinner would be enough to perk her up. She’s not even hungry.

Pepper Paradiso, usually open later, appears to have closed early today. However, the interior lights are still on, spilling through wide glass windows, illuminating the empty parking bays next to the diner in an island of light. With the only other light sources being the distant houses of Tempo and one solitary street lamp several yards down the main road, it is exceptionally welcoming. Vivi exhales long and hard, bringing the truck to a stop.

As she and Lewis clamber out, dragging luggage with them, the apparent lack of wind catches her attention. Unlike Milton, the air here is thick and stagnant. The prelude to a storm. Perfect. On the horizon, lightning flashes. Grumpily, Vivi pulls out her phone. She should really call her dad. He’d want to know she was back in town. What she really wants is to call her mom. But her mom is in Washington for a conference, meaning it was late, so the time difference wouldn’t work out too well. Her gran didn’t have a phone, so that was out.

“Hey, Lew. I’m going to call my dad. I’ll be in in a second.”

Lewis, now carrying both his and Arthur’s bags, nods, reaching out to take her's as well. Through the window, she sees the silhouette of Lewis’s mom moving to greet him. The main sliding doors are locked like they always are after hours, so she is walking around to come out the side ‘employee’ entrance. The entrance which also led back into the main living area.

As her phone rings, she moves out of view and around to the opposite side of the truck, allowing her to stare out into the inky black desert. Far in the distance, a flash of lightning illuminates the empty landscape. This should be private enough.

“Vivi. I thought I told you to call once you stopped. It’s been two days!”

She rolls her eyes, “Nice to hear from you too.”

“I was worried. This is the first time you’ve been away for such a long period. A text message would have sufficed.”

“I message mom. Also, I’m an adult, I can figure this stuff out myself.” Only, she couldn’t. Not really. But, it wasn’t like ‘dealing with a best friend running off for unexplained reasons’ is a typical adult skill. She is getting off track.

“Well, I’m back in Tempo so you can stop panicking.”

“You’re back in…”

“I’m staying at Lewis’s tonight,” She waves away any incoming questions, “I just wanted to ask you something real quick is all.”

A pause.

“So like, I know that you hate my hobby and all, but is there a particular reason behind that. Like, is there anything I should watch out for…maybe a potentially demon-possessed friend.”

There is dead silence on the other end of the line. Mystery shifts from paw to paw near her feet.

“I think I have expressed my views on this already. What are you…”

“Because,” Vivi quickly continues, emphasising the word, before he can start lecturing, “I met this guy today who said he was hunting a demon. I know, sounds crazy. But he seemed to really believe it, and I have this odd feeling...” It had been bugging her. Also, for the first time ever, she wants to hear dad’s no-nonsense, self-assured ‘all that stuff isn’t real’ spiel.

“I just wanted to check that there isn’t anything you’re not telling…”

THUNK.

The area goes dark.

All the lights in the diner cut off at once. Vivi glances about in alarm, squinting as her eyes try and adjust to the sudden darkness. What the heck? She puts a hand out, touching the side of the truck, following it around to face the diner again. In the black, she can make out the building’s outline and not much else.

“Vivi? Are you there? What happened?”

“Ah…a power outage, I think?”

At her feet, Mystery lets out a deep growl, which sounds impossibly loud in the still air. It vibrates, causing her teeth to jitter. The dog steps forward, staring intently towards the corner of the building. For a second the area is illuminated by a flash of lightning, and she sees…she sees Arthur? Darkness returns, falling like a curtain to obscure her view.

“Sorry dad. Gotta go…”

“NO! Vivi, wait!”

She hangs up. Mystery growls again, and she peers into the night. It’s no use. Quickly, she flips through her phone settings for the flashlight, holding it up. The dim light it offers little against the gloom, giving her barely a meter of vision.

She is almost sure she’d seen Arthur.

Part 33: Here

#MSA #mystery skulls animated #fanfiction #fanfic #Lewis pepper #Vivi Yukino #coarse language #Oh look another scene in a car park.#had an a4 page of dotpoints to get through in this part and I did it #Wow 3000+ words it’s been a while since I did something this long #If you see more mistakes than usual that’ll be why #it's climax time!!

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mwdders · 5 years

Text

Unexpected love.

Part 1

Summary: You’re Tom’s older sister and as your relationship sourly ends, you retreat to L.A. for some time away, not expecting to meet Sebastian Stan and fall for him. (There is a longer summary on my blog if you want to read that before reading this)

Paring: Sebastian Stan x reader and Sibling!Tom x reader

Warnings: Swearing and unedited so sorry for any mistakes!

Part 1/?

Enjoy!

This wasn’t requested but if you enjoy this, and like my writing please message me requests.

Update: Link to Part 2:

https://bluediamondsevie.tumblr.com/post/184710177662/unexpected-love

—

You: Tom, me and Cam broke up

Tom: What?? Why???

You: He er said he didn’t love me anymore and didn’t want to marry me

Tom: WTF!!

You: Yeah...

Tom: He only proposed to you 6 months ago!!

You: A lot can happen in 6 months....

Tom: I’m so sorry sis

Tom: Wait till I get home, I’ll kill him

You: No, no. As much as I’d like to see that, I can’t let you

Tom: Wait till I tell Harrison and Harry, they’ll be fuming

You: I know.... can I ask a favour???

Tom: You sure you’re okay??

Tom: Anything

You: I know Harrison and Harry are with you and room at your flat is limited but can I come and stay with you??

You: At least till you go to Atlanta

Tom: You don’t need to ask.

Tom: I’ll have my agent book you the next flight out.

You: oh good

You: cause I’m already packed.

Tom: 🙄 ofc you are. See you soon sis, love you.

You: Love you too.

—

Smiling at your phone, you locked it. You knew you could rely on Tom to be a shoulder to cry on.

Sighing, you stood up from your comfortable position on the sofa, in the living room of your shared house with Cam, although not for much longer.

As soon as he told you he didn’t want to marry you, you were calm and collected, slowly packing your things, but inside your heart was breaking and falling into your stomach.

It was difficult to end a 4 year relationship especially having only just got engaged mere months ago, you never thought you’d be happier than you were when Cam proposed on Christmas Day with your entire family there to witness it, but that seemed so long ago now.

Your thoughts were interrupted as your phone rang.

Harrison’s face lit up the screen as his caller ID was displayed.

“Hey Haz.”

“Y/n hey.” His voice was full of emotion and you could guess that Tom had just told him about your breakup.

“You okay?” You asked the normal pleasantries.

“Me? I’m the one that should be asking you that, are you okay? Tom told me about Cam.”

You sighed, rubbing your temples slightly, “I’m okay, it’s not quite sunk in yet..”

“I bet it hasn’t. Why would he do this? And so suddenly?”

“I don’t know babe.” The pet name slipping off your tongue with ease, you’d known Harrison for ages and pet names were more common than your actual names.

He sighed and there was silence on the other end of the phone, “I’m coming to L.A.” You trailed off, placing the phone between your ear and shoulder, trying to multitask and pack up the last of your things.

“Yeah, Tom told me, he’s booking your flight now.”

“Good, I can’t wait to see you all. I’ve missed you.”

“We’ve missed you too, if only the circumstances were better.” You sighed again, that’s all you seemed to have done these last 24 hours, that and cry.

“I know but I’m coming to get my mind off things, I need to be away from the media when my break up comes to light and I think Tom’s flat will be the best place to do that.”

“You sure? He’s not cleaned in weeks!” You laughed as Harrison tried to lighten the mood.

“I’ll see you soon, bye Harrison.”

“Bye love.” He hung up and you shyly smiled, placing your phone in your bag and picking up the bags you needed for L.A.

You’d already had your dad come and pick up most of your stuff, after boxing it all up and taking it to your family home, including your dog Treasure.

You walked out the room and grabbed your keys from the hall table, turning all the lights off knowing Cam wouldn’t be back soon- you’d told him to give you some time so he’d left not long after he broke up with you.

Opening the door, the cold air hit you, for a May evening it was rather chilly. The door slammed behind you, and the locked clicked as it shut, after making sure it was locked, you bleeped your car, dragging your suitcase behind you, and placing it in the boot and getting into the drivers seat, as Tom text you your flight details and boarding pass, you stared at the house one more time, the house you thought you were going to grow old in, the house was suppose to be your family home, but now it was nothing but bad memories, memories you wanted to forget, so you drove away, not looking back.

—

The flight was long, and nothing could take your mind away from the TMZ story that broke half way through it.

“Y/N Holland splits with fiancé in shock cheating scandal!” The headline read and it made you scoff, there was no cheating scandal, although Cam had found another woman he told you before anything happened and never cheated on you, the media made anything up these days.

You’d collected your bags and were waiting for Tom, coffees in hand.

“Y/N!” Someone shouted your name and you turned around to see your younger brother literally running towards you.

“Tom!” The enthusiasm laced in your voice as you placed the coffees down and pulled him into a hug.

“Oh my gosh I’ve missed you.” He mumbled into your shoulder as he held you tightly.

You giggled before relaxing into his chest.

“How was your flight?” He questioned as he pulled from the hug and picked up your bag.

“Fine, except I saw the TMZ story.” Eyes rolling you picked up the coffees, handing him one.

“Ohh thanks. I saw it too, I tried not to get papped on the way here so they wouldn’t know you were here, but I’m not sure it worked.” You shook your head, as much as you didn’t want the media to know where you were it was inevitable that they’d find out eventually.

“It’s okay, better sooner rather than later, as long as they don’t bother me.” You reached

Tom’s car and as he assumed it was swarming with paparazzi lingering near it.

“Hey can you guys move please.” He said as he couldn’t get to the boot to open it.

“Get in Y/NN” He bleeped the car, unlocking his Range Rover.

“Y/N! Why’d you break up with your fiancé?”

“Did you cheat on him?”

“Is another woman having his baby?”

“Have you seen he’s moved on already, Y/N!” Where some of the things yelled at you along with cameras in your face as you politely pushed them away and got in the passenger seat, once Tom was in the drivers seat he locked the doors, pulling out the parking spot, although you’re not sure how he reversed when all the flashes were in his face.

“So I have to go straight to set if that’s okay?”

“Of course Tom, I don’t mind.”

“You sure? I know what you’re like after long flights, you like to shower and sleep.” He raised his eyebrows at you laughing slightly.

You hit his arm, “I’m not that bad, and I don’t mind. Your trailer has a shower right?” He nods, keeping his eyes on the road, “Then problem solved.”

—

You shut your door, as you jumped out the car.

The sun was shinning and you pulled your sunglasses onto your face.

“I can already feel the vitamin D.” You joked, arms out wide.

Tom laughed and grabbed your arm, pulling you along.

“So what’s it like? Being a big movie star.” Tom rolled his eyes and lightly put his arm around your shoulder.

“Oh you know, it’s great, I do whatever I want, and get whatever I want.” You shoved him, “You better not be an arrogant arsehole Tom.”

“I’m not, I promise.” He laughed and sighed in content.

You took the chance to take in your surroundings, big buildings littered the lot and you could see numerous trailers but also car park after car park.

“So my trailer is number 106, and it’s just up there, I’m sorry to leave you but I just got a text to be in hair and make up.” Tom looked up from his phone and pointed straight ahead where you could see the trailers starting at 100.

“No problem Barbie, go get all dolled up.” You shoved him, and he walked away slightly but not before turning back and tripping you, making sure you stumbled over your own feet.

“Fuck you!” You shouted as he ran in the opposite direction away from you. Shaking your head, you’d missed this, the sibling rivalry, the pranks, the shoulders to cry on, the company no matter what the time, the support, you’d missed your family, especially with Tom being away which meant Harry and Harrison were gone too because they went everywhere with him.

Reaching 106 you opened the door, the trailer was huge, nearly as big as your house at home. There were 3 rooms you could see just as you walked in, let alone what was behind the closed door.

You pushed the sunglasses back onto your head and left your bag by the door.

Voices were echoing through the room and you felt relaxed as the familiar voices of Harry and Harrison filled the air. Opening the door slowly, they both had their backs to you, sat on the sofa watching TV.

Taking the opportunity, you snuck up behind the sofa and put your head in the gap between the two of them and screamed.

“Fucking hell!” Harry yelled as he practically jumped six foot in the air. Harrison had fallen off the sofa and was lay on the floor, hand on his chest. “I actually hate you.” Were the words that left his mouth as you laughed.

“No you don’t!” You rounded the sofa and hugged your brother. “How are my two musketeers?” You then hugged Harrison who was now stood up.

“We’re good, we’re good. And you? What about you?” The mood dimmed a little as you sat on the sofa, knees to your chest, “I don’t want to talk about it, but I’m okay.” You smiled shyly and Harrison could tell you weren’t okay because the smile didn’t reach your dull eyes.

“Where’s Tom?” Harry asked not even looking up from his phone, rolling your eyes it was like you’d never left.

“He went to set.” Both there heads shot up when you said that. “Oh shit we’re in trouble, we’re suppose to be on set when he gets there.” They both went sprinting out the room before you could say another word, “Bye then.” You sarcastically said, but they were gone.

You pulled your bag into the living room, getting your phone out of the pocket, you had at least 50 notifications, mostly from social media, but a text from Cam caught your eye.

Cam: I’m deleting these off my phone, wanted you to have them. Attached: 200 photos

There were 200 photos from the last 4 years of your life, from the moment you first met, your first date, your first kiss, your first Christmas, getting Treasure, moving in together, cute dates, anniversaries, him proposing, selfie after selfie, scrolling through them all was hard as every photo had a story behind it and they call came flooding back, and the reality of it all was finally sinking in and you couldn’t hold back the tears, they were free falling as you sobbed, feeling the nerves rack your body as you shake.

You put a hand to your mouth as you choke on a sob, trying to conceal it, bringing your knees to your chest, you bury your head in them and shut your eyes, trying so hard to forget everything, although you could barley hear your own thoughts let alone the door of the trailer opening.

Tom stood there for a second, his heart breaking at the sight of his sister so vulnerable before walking over to you, and just sitting next to you wrapping his arms around you.

You look up startled slightly but relax as you realise it’s Tom and your sobs become louder as you hug his chest. “It’s okay, you’ll be okay.” He kept repeating, rocking you slightly as your tears fell, wetting his Spider-Man suit, he places a light kiss on your head before placing his chin in its place, allowing you to cry as much as you needed too, in the comfort of his arms.

—

Tag list: @melp1219 @memesmyselfandhate @marvelouspottering @coohlwhip @tastefulknife @vaultures @just-a-littlebit-of-everything @helloitsmeamie203 @kiran1245 @augustnightsx @meowmeow230 @coffees-and-constellations @celebsimagines @myfanstories

—

172 notes · View notes

ycnderes · 5 years

Note

can we get more soulmate Strade? I love their dynamic with the reader!

[part 1] [part 2] same as last time, you probably don’t need to read the two previous works to understand what’s going on, but you’ll have a bit more background etc.

i’m just gonna say this here, while i like the idea i had for this story -- i honestly have no idea if i executed it well. if you liked this story, if you liked the writing, pls let me know because i honestly can’t tell right now if this is good or not.

BUT either way, here it is, and i hope you like it :)

Music plays, filtering through the car radio and evaporating into the hot desert air as the landscape passes by. You searched a bag earlier and managed to find a tank top, but even with that and a pair of shorts, you’re sweating. It’s nice. Dirt and sand stretch for miles in every direction, and there are mountains on the edge of the horizon. No air-conditioned house, no garage right beneath your feet; you feel like you can breathe for the first time in a long time.

Fingers thread through your own and you look at Strade. "Not fallin' asleep on me, are you?" He squeezes your hand tight for a second too long; you know he's just uncomfortable, it's early spring but the weather here is already too warm for him. The thought’s edges prick at your conscious, you shouldn’t feel so pleased about that.

"No," you rub your thumb across the back of his hand. "Just thinking."

He glances at you quick before looking back. "What about?"

The road curves and hot sun spills onto your side; you wish you could stay here, in this one spot, forever. "I'm really happy," you start to say. "Thank you for this, for..." For letting you leave the house? For bringing you so far away? For giving you a chance to feel the sun on your skin?

How do you put that into words? How do you express gratitude when he’s the one who took those things away?

He smiles, all teeth and so wide. He’ll never understand what he’s done. "I knew you'd like it, kleiner hase, and this is just the beginning! We’ve still got another two weeks before -"

“Before we go back?” You interrupt.

“Yep!” He sounds excited, whether for the rest of this little road trip, or the thought of going back home, you’re not sure.

It is what it is. And you are happy, though you try not to think of what that means for your psyche, so you smile at him and shift so you can reach and kiss his cheek. His eyes leave the road as he turns to capture you into a more clinging kiss. It doesn’t last more than two seconds before he lets go, and it’s less than a moment, but you see a truck coming straight at the car, and you open your mouth to scream or cry -- and it hits.

---

You can feel your body before you even wake up, aching in every bone and joint. Face down in the dirt, you try to focus on breathing, just like Strade taught you. Don’t scream, don’t panic, breathe. You shiver, and then realize you’re cold. You peel your eyes open, and you can see the night sky in your peripheral, the moon just coming up over the horizon. Breathe.

Where’s Strade? You’re still alive, so he must be too. Testing your limbs, you inhale deeply and hold it, then exhale. That’s a good sign, nothing’s broken on either of you. You continue to breathe, to calm yourself down from the screaming breakdown you want to have, and listen. It’s cold, but you can hear the breeze, and the ground is solid underneath you. You carefully push yourself up and wait. Nothing. But you can see the car about five feet away; it looks… rough. The front is nearly caved in, and the windows are broken leaving glass everywhere. Both of the doors are open, but you can’t remember at all how you got out of there and all the way over here.

You clench your fists and release. “Strade?” Your voice breaks halfway through, your mouth almost too dry to make words. There’s no reply, why is there no reply, so you unsteadily, painfully, walk around the wreck.

It’s a mess. It didn’t even flip, from what little you remember, but everything’s been tossed around. Oh well. You keep walking and manage to circle the vehicle before needing another breather.

No Strade.

No truck either.

If it’d been a hit and run, where’s your soulmate? If they’d done it specifically for kidnapping purposes, why leave you? It doesn’t make sense.

The moon is full in the sky before you finish checking the surrounding area, rechecking the car, and grabbing some necessary supplies into a backpack. You find your phone up on the dashboard, of all places, and the screen is completely shattered. Strade’s phone is missing too, but it’s night, and you’re feeling terrible, so it could be right next to your foot and you’d never know.

What you do know is that you can’t stay here, in the middle of nowhere, You’re not a survivor, so your only option is to start walking. You look at the road and glance down both ways. The last place you’d passed was about a two-hour drive away, difficult, but you’d know exactly where to go. The next place you’d seen on the GPS was an hour away, but you’d looked at it probably a half hour before the crash.

So, what do you choose? You’re not even sure what you’re looking for. It didn’t look like a town, but all you’ll really need is a phone. You set the pack down and search through it until you find your knife. Throwing the pack back on, you look at the crash, knife in hand.

“Strade!” You yell.

You count down, listening for something, anything. And when there’s no reply, you start walking.

---

There’s no way to tell the time, except for the moon slowly sinking down the sky, and you can’t read it as well as you’d like. Maybe it’s been an hour, maybe it’s been ten minutes…

No, it’s definitely been more than ten minutes.

You went in the direction you thought Strade would go in, if he woke up and decided to leave you behind. It could be the wrong direction, but you’re already committed to it. The moonlight is almost enough to see by, and you try to pay attention to where you’re stepping. And the asphalt hurts your feet but the dirt has loose gravel and other things and you’ve already tripped, so you stay on the asphalt as the bottom of your feet ache with every step.

It feels like a miracle when you finally see a light in the distance. It’s small, but maybe it’s a house? A parked car? It feels just as dangerous as being alone out here, and you can almost hear Strade telling you not to be stupid. But the cold has set in past your layers of clothes and you’re exhausted.

You walk and walk till you’re close enough until you can see it’s a truck. The same truck as earlier, but it's had a crash of its own. The truck is flipped, fallen into a small ravine to the side of the road. The lights are still on, and one of the sides is all messed up, probably from the earlier crash. Where’s the driver?

You walk closer, and then you hear it. A wet, sticky sound, like someone’s clearing their throat, but it doesn’t end. Fear shoots through your veins, and you grab your knife. You unsheath it quietly, but your hands are shaking so bad you almost drop it. You try to remember Strade’s lessons, but nothing is coming to mind except breathe. Flattening yourself as close to the truck as you can, you count to five, ignore the rushing noise in your ears, you listen.

Someone is dying. It’s a horrible death, you’re sure of it. They’re drowning in their own blood from the sounds of it. And someone… someone is watching them die. It takes every bit of nerve in your body to look over the truck, and --

It’s Strade.

He’s sitting in the dirt, his own knife loose in his hands, watching what must’ve been the truck driver die.

“Str-Strade,” you can barely make it out of your mouth you’re so completely shaken.

Immediately, he turns towards you. “Oh! You’re here,” he grins at you, gesturing for you to come closer. “Look what I found!”

His eyes are intense and wild, bearing on you like he’s seeing straight through you. You don’t move, a sick feeling curdles in your gut. It feels too much like the earliest days of your relationship with him.

He laughs, a sharp, nearly hysterical sound, and stands up, dusting the dirt off on his pants. “Come here, now.” It’s an order. You step around the truck, now fully in front of him, the knife tight in your hands and in a ready position. He eyes the knife. “Are you afraid of me?”

“Strade, please,” you beg. “I was so afraid, why didn’t you wait for me?”

He stalks close, knife at his side, and comes close enough that your knife is resting against him. “Say that again,” he cups your face and squishes your cheeks slightly.

“Please.”

“No,” he shakes his head. “Tell me you’re afraid.” He moves closer, forcing your knife hard against him and you have to pull back.

Your voice trembles and tears start in your eyes. “I’m afraid, I’m scared, Strade, please, I’m so scared, please stop.”

For a moment, he does. Then he brings the knife up to your throat. “Say you love me.”

You can’t hesitate. “I love you.”

He watches you, waiting for… something. It doesn’t happen. Sunlight peaks over the horizon and he suddenly pulls you into a tight embrace. “I love you,” he breathes into your skin desperately, as if he hadn’t just threatened you.

You can’t forgive him, not with the body that lies nearby, not with the knives in both your’s and his hands, but you allow him to hold you. Sunlight bathes your face, and you close your eyes against the light.

#request #sfw #strade #btd #gore mention cw #gnr #soulmate verse #posting this in the middle of the night when i finished it because i crave validation #oh #and kleiner hase means little rabbit #reader's super nervous around him so he calls them that #Anonymous

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mitchsmarners · 6 years

Text

say it right

summary: Working side by side with somebody for nine hours a day was bound to end in some sort of friendship. Eddie will continue to tell himself and anybody who asked this until he’s blue in the face. Because that’s all it is, and all it will ever be.

[or: Eddie and Richie work together in book cafe, and Richie is determined to turn Eddie into a coffee drinker by making him the perfect drink. And if Eddie happens to fall in love with him in the process, well then that’s just an added bonus.]

chapter count: 5/7

[1] [2] [3] [4] [Read Full Story on AO3]

Radio silence. That was the only way that Eddie could describe his current status with Richie.

It had been almost quarter to eight before Eddie had responded to the texts from Richie, the feeling of guilt in his gut and something much more painful in his chest completely overwhelming him.

To Richie Tozier @ 7:43: Richie I am so so sorry

To Richie Tozier @ 8:03: If you want we could go grab coffee or something and talk about this please

To Richie Tozier @ 8:09: I know I deserve to be ignored but please let me know that you’re okay Richie

Eddie had the next two days after his skipped date with Richie and he nearly wore a path in his living room flooring, and ignoring at least four phone calls and texts from Bill demanding to know how his date with Richie had gone. It made Eddie want to throw up, just the idea of talking to Bill and telling him what he’d done, how he’d hurt Richie. It broke Eddie down, wanting to walk down to the Brewstore and see Richie, corner him and try to talk to him or even just make sure he was okay but he everytime he got close to leaving his apartment, the burning anxiety of fear towards a fight with Richie had him running back to the safety of hiding under the blankets in bed.

Eddie almost called into work on Tuesday morning but he knew that he wouldn’t be able to afford that kind of behaviour. It seemed, of course, that he didn’t need to be afraid of anything when he caught sight of Ben opening the store. “Did I get the schedule messed up, are you supposed to open today?”

“No.” Ben said shortly, a simple, detached tone that was so different from the usual warmth in Ben Hanscom’s voice. Eddie’s stomach churned and he fidgeted with the tips of his fingers. “I’m opening for Richie.”

Eddie swallowed harshly. “Is Richie… Where’s Richie?”

Ben shot Eddie a look over his shoulder that for most people would be expressionless, but in two months of working with Ben Hanscom… Eddie knew it was a dirty look. “He went home to visit his parents. His dad picked him up two days ago.”

“He’s… gone?” Eddie asked, his own voice barely coming out. An uncomfortable expression came over Ben’s face, almost as though he was contemplating something. He looked Eddie over once, twice, three times before sighing.

“He’s not gone gone. He’ll be back.” Ben said, tone not exactly friendly but quite a bit warmer than before. “He put in emergency vacation for the week. He still has school stuff anyway.”

Eddie nodded, and followed Ben into the building. He watched Ben move towards the coffee counter but reached out to grab him on a reflex. “Ben I… I know you know what I did. I just wanted to say…”

“I like you, Eddie,” Ben interrupted, shaking his head so slightly that he might not have even been aware that he was doing it. “I think you’re a good guy, I really do, but Richie is my best friend. We have been through so much shit together, for years. And you hurt him, Eddie. You hurt him so bad he went home to his parents. He hasn’t done that since…” A dark look came over Ben but Eddie could simply tell that it wasn’t directed at him. Ben cleared his throat. “I don’t think you meant to hurt him so badly and I don’t doubt that you had your reasons. But I don’t care about those reasons- I can’t care about those reasons. The only thing I have time to care about right now is Richie and making sure that Richie is okay.”

Eddie swallowed hard and forced back the tears. “You’re a really great guy, Ben.”

Ben smiled softly. “You are, too, Eddie. And Richie will give you another chance, probably three or four of them if needed, when he’s ready. See to it that you only need one, or I won’t try to stop Bev from hurting you.” Eddie laughed, a sad and wet sound, and Ben’s smile dipped down in slight concern. “Stop looking like a kicked puppy when I’m trying to convince myself that you’re the bad guy. Please.”

“I can’t help it that I’m pathetic.” Eddie whined tearfully, wiping at his face frantically as the tears started to fall. “I’m just so pissed at myself for hurting Richie, I just… I just didn’t want anybody to get hurt so I thought it would be easier if we didn’t start dating at all but then I didn’t go and he got hurt and knowing I hurt him just hurts so fucking bad, you know? Because like Richie… he’s the like the first guy that I’ve really and I… and you said you didn’t want to know my reasons and here I am spilling them out to you anyway like a fucking idiot I’m so sorry I…” Eddie got caught off by Ben coming forward and wrapping Eddie up into his arms. Ben held him there for a long moment, slightly rocking them. Eddie let out a shaky laugh. “Has anybody ever told you that you give great hugs, Ben Hanscom?”

Ben laughed, too. “Richie, at least once a day. Bev, too, actually.” Eddie tucked his head deeper into Ben’s neck and he felt more than heard Ben sighing. “Alright, Eddie… I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt for like one second and you’re going to pretend that I didn’t.”

Eddie pulled away slightly, frowning at Ben. Ben glanced around, almost though making sure that there was nobody around despite the knowledge that it would be only Ben and Eddie working for at least the next three hours. “Richie will definitely be back by Saturday night because that’s when his group has to put on their play. Richie may not seem like somebody who takes this seriously-”

“I’ve never thought that,” Eddie interrupted on a reflex, and an odd expression came over Ben’s face.

“I just…” Ben ran fingers through his hair. “Richie takes his theatre stuff really really seriously. He’d never miss a show, and he’s really intense about this one. I thought Mike was going to beat him by the end of it, but I know it’s going to be amazing.”

“What are they doing?” Eddie asked, fighting off the urge to crack his knuckles.

“They have to adapt some sort of novel and make it a musical,” Ben said, a small smile coming over his face. “Bev put up a big fit about doing some Stephen King book, even though Mike told her a hundred times how hard it’ll be to re-create telekinesis on a stage. But anyway…” Ben shook his head, getting off track and knowing it. “We all have tickets and backstage access because all our friends are in the play and wrote it. And… because I’m giving you the stupid benefit of the doubt… you’re coming, too.”

Eddie’s eyes blew wide. “Wait, no, Ben, I really shouldn’t. Richie is definitely mad at me and I’ve never read or seen Carrie and..”

“This may come as a surprise to you, Eddie,” Ben chuckled. “But the play will definitely tell you enough about the storyline from beginning to end that you won’t need to read the book. Actually, you know, it tells you everything. It re-creates the story.”

Eddie flushed. “Yes, okay, I know that but Richie…”

“If I know anything about Richie Tozier, he’s not mad at you.” Ben shook his head. “To be honest, Richie would just usually shrug something like that off completely but on top of all the other stuff this year, I think it was just too much. Not to let you off the hook for standing him up, because that was still crappy, Eddie-“ Ben shot him a small glare and Eddie felt himself flush again. “But the rest of that stuff isn’t your fault and Richie wouldn’t blame it on you, either. So come to the show and talk to him.”

Eddie nodded, giving Ben a soft smile. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. And if it goes bad, I’m not the one who invited you.”

Eddie spent the rest of the week missing Richie and trying to read Carrie. It was surprisingly hard, Eddie finding himself getting stuck at the same point near the beginning over and over.

To Billy <3 @ 7:55am: Carrie is a terrible book

From Billy <3 @ 9:21am: Most Stephen King books are. Don’t know how anybody can read that crap.

To Billy <3 @ 9:22am: They can’t all be that bad.

From Billy <3 @ 9:22am: They are. Have you ever read the demon clown/acid trip turtle book?

To Billy <3 @ 9:30am: Uh

Saturday night came rolling around and anxiety was deep in Eddie’s chest, reaching out and threatening to suffocate him. He called Bill three hours before he needed to head out and reached a very unimpressed best friend on the other end of the line.

“No, Eddie.” Bill said in replacement of a hello. “You’re going to the fuh-fucking show and you’re going to uh-auh-apologize to that loud boy from your work. Then muh-maybe make out with his fuh-face.”

Bill hung up and Eddie stared at his phone in betrayal.

Eddie showed up outside the school’s large theatre and found Ben and Stanley both standing outside waiting for him. He was wearing the same sweater and jeans he’d worn when meeting Richie and the others at the bar that night that had felt like years earlier.

Ben smiled warmly as he approached, and Stan reached out to pat him on the shoulder. “Richie got back into town like an hour ago and looked like death ran him over twice,” Stanley said in that straight forward fashion of his. Eddie frowned deeply and Ben closed his eyes. “Don’t worry, Eddie, I’m sure it’s not because you left him standing at the side of the road for an hour. It’s probably because he hates his parents and just spent a week with them. Because you left him standing at the side of the road for an hour.”

“Are you done?” Ben asked, raising a brow. Stan smiled almost sarcastically and gestured towards the door. Not for the first time, Eddie wondered if he underestimated the friendship between Richie and Stan. They moved into the front row and took their seats, Eddie on one side of Ben and Stanley on the other. The lights came on the very scene that Eddie had deeply struggled getting back while reading the book began. Admittedly, it was a little hard to recreate a shower scene when you couldn’t have running water on a stage but Eddie almost didn’t notice.

The play moved on swiftly and Eddie found himself getting into it when Beverly came out and stood center stage. He’d noticed her several times, playing on the biggest leads in the play, but he was suddenly floored looking at her in her 70s style clothes and deep red hair. She shot the crowd a half smirk and opened her mouth to sing.

“Guess what, ever since the world began. Same plot. Everyone’s been dumping on their fellow man.”

Eddie’s eyes widened and looked over to Ben and Stan, whom were both staring up at their friend with similar looks of dazed adoration. “I’m straight now,” he whispered to them both. “Richie who?”

“Right?” Ben said, waggling his brow while Stan shook his head slightly. “He’s dating the girl playing Sue.” Eddie crinkled his brow, remembering the statements Richie had made about Mike and Stan, and the things he’d seen himself. Ben nodded, and patted Eddie on the wrist. “Life is complicated.”

Richie was playing the male antagonists, Beverly’s boyfriend, and he looked so good in his badboy attire that Eddie’s breath hitched in his throat every time Richie came on the stage. He watched the scene where Richie and Bev were beginning to plan their methods of harassing Carrie White and Eddie had to clasp a hand over his mouth as Richie began to belt out his lyrics with an air of douchebaggery that Eddie wouldn’t have thought possible in the huge nerd he was falling so hard for.

“You always amaze me with the way that you think… If I were your daddy, I would buy you a shrink.”

Eddie watched the rest of the show with his tongue heavy in his mouth and he stood along with Ben and Stan to applaud once it was over. As Ben rushed to the back of the stage to greet his friends, Eddie began to step back slowly. Stan reached out and clasped his wrist.

“Where are you going?” Stan asked, narrowing his eyes at him. “You’re coming with us, Eddie. We sat in the front row, there’s no way Richie didn’t see you. If you just leave right after, you might as well kiss every chance you have of making up with him goodbye.”

Eddie let out a shaky sigh and nodded. He followed Stan back to where the cast and their friends were all throwing their arms around each other. At the sight of them, Richie let out an excited noise and Eddie’s stomach dropped out his ass at how good he looked. The distance between the stage and Eddie’s seat hadn’t done him justice, Eddie now staring at the closeness of Richie’s dark eye makeup and sweaty, shiny face. A million thoughts, most dirty, ran through Eddie’s face until he truly thought he was going to forget how to breathe altogether.

Richie tossed his arms around Stan and pulled him in, the pair of them slapping each other on the back as they hugged. Richie stepped away from, grinning widely and his eyes fell to Eddie. The grin faltered just slightly, something deep in Richie’s eyes bringing that horrible feeling of guilt back to Eddie’s stomach. “Heya, Eds. Like the show?”

“You were amazing,” Eddie said earnstely, nodding. His eyes met Mike and Beverly, and he smiled wider. “You all were. Really.” Beverly blew him a kiss and Eddie was pretty sure if he was even the slightest bit heterosexual he would have melted right into the floor and died in that moment.

“You guys are coming back to Mike and Richie’s for the party, right?” The pretty girl who’d played Sue said from her spot pressed in Stanley’s side. Eddie’s heart leapt in his chest and he felt Richie’s eyes burning into the side of the his face.

“Yeah,” Ben said from where he was- for whatever unnecessary reason- feeling Mike’s biceps and blushing. “We’re all coming. Right, Eddie?”

Eddie looked up, eyes meeting Richie. Richie gave him a soft smile. “Yeah. Yeah. We’re all coming.”

Eddie had been sitting awkwardly on Richie Tozier’s couch for two hours, pressed between Mike and Stanley for the panic that had been twisting his gut all night really started to get the better of him. Richie hadn’t looked or spoken to him once since they’d left the show and Eddie didn’t know how much longer he could deal with this.

Excusing himself quickly, Eddie jumped gave a poor excuse of getting another drink from the kitchen and fled. He gripped onto the counter, brain running wild as he squeezed his tearing up eyes shut. He could see Richie that first morning at the BrewStore, tired and sitting on the counter. Promising to find a coffee drink that Eddie would love, implying that Eddie would fall in love with Richie himself. Richie in his beanie outside the bar. Richie with his busted lip but bright smile. The feeling of Richie’s hand in his when Richie asked with a shaking, nervous voice if he wanted to go out.

Eddie let out a single sob, and slapped a hand over his mouth.

“Hey, Eddie, if you don’t like the-” Richie’s voice carried over to him as he came into the kitchen before stopping. His voice went through at least three emotions as Eddie wiped quickly at his damp cheeks. “Why are you crying? What happened?”

“I…” Eddie inhaled deeply. “I’m sorry, Richie. I shouldn’t be huh-here. I already messed every-everything up. I’ll just…” Eddie moved to walk past him but Richie’s hand came out and curled around his wrist.

“Come on the balcony with me, okay? I think… I think we have somethings we need to say to each other.”

#reddie #reddie fic #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #ben hanscom is the best friend in the whole world jot that down #mike/richie/bev is an iconic trio also jot that down too #my writing #say it right #im actually sad this story is almost over :(#.

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richiefuckfacetozier · 7 years

Text

Chapter 5: Heroes

Story: It’s Not My Fault

Note: @slashpalooza made this fanart as a Valentine’s gift to me. Love you Alex!

Title - Heroes by David Bowie

That’s right friends a Loser’s car trip with Reddie.

It can also be found on Archive of our own

For other chapters - | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 |

“Eddie, my precious snicker bar! Let’s get going.” Richie implored. Richie’s new bit of the week was to call Eddie different candies. Eddie thought it was kind of funny and just proved Richie only ever thought about sugary sweets.

Eddie had spent the last 20 minutes packing what felt to Richie and Stanley like all his belongs. He was really worried about forgetting something important.

“I am just making sure I packed everything and did not miss anything,” Eddie said looking at his list for the billionth time.

“Eddie, you were very thorough in your packing,” Stanley said reassuringly. “You got everything on the list I made for all of you.”

“What list?” Richie asked lazily.

“Damn you, Tozier,” Stanley grumbled.

“We have to get on the road. WE ARE BURNING DAYLIGHT!” Richie shouted dramatically.

Eddie looked outside and could see Bill’s big blue van, affectionately called Mama, parked in his driveway. Beverly and Ben had gotten out of the car, so she could smoke. Stanley and Richie were supposed to be bringing Eddie’s stuff down so they could get on the road, but this was proving a challenge. “Shit!” Eddie went into overdrive grabbing the rest of his supplies.

“Richie’s right, Eddie,” Stanley said glancing at his watch. “Driving in the dark will not be fun.”

Richie and Eddie looked at Stanley horrified. Then Richie’s face broke out into a huge smile, “We all heard it. Stan the man Uris said I was right. Let it be known. Let it be written! Hell, tattoo it on my arm.”

“Shut the fuck up, Richie,” Stanley said. “But seriously, we have to get on the road. I scheduled out the trip down to the minute and you are holding us back 22 minutes now.”

“Yes, ok fine! Let’s go.” Eddie grabbed his backpack and toiletry bag, while Stanley picked up his suitcase. Richie grabbed Eddie’s dad’s skiing gear. Eddie wanted to rent his own at the skiing range, but his mom insisted he take them since they were collecting dust at this point. It was hard for Eddie to think about his father. Sometimes, he wondered how his life would have gone if his dad had not died. Maybe his mom would be less protective and they would be happier. Then he would feel guilty for feeling this way when his mom had tried to do the best she could with a terrible situation.

“I like your dad’s skis. They are so cool.” Richie said admiring the black skis with hand painted stars on them. Eddie smiled at him as they made their way downstairs. Fortunately, his mom was out today. They had been arguing every day about him going on this trip. She got fed up with a final plea last night. Eddie did not back down once, even if his mind wanted to give in. He knew Richie would be really disappointed if he did that to them.

Eddie held the door open for Richie and Stanley. “We are only going to be gone a weekend, Eddie!” Ben said shaking his head. “We still need to fit Mike’s stuff.”

“You’re our resident architect, Benny boy. So start architecturatoring and fit all the stuff in Bill’s car!” Richie put the skis under the tarp on the roof.

Stanley fixed him with an exasperated look, “Architecturatoring is not a word, you idiot.”

“How does Richie get better grades than all of us?” Ben teased.

“My theory is he has a photographic memory,” Eddie grumbled. “I call shotgun!”

“Challenge!” Richie yelled. The two of them flew at the passenger door handle. Bill’s head shot up to watch them shoving each other. He was sitting in the driver's seat looking at the map but raised it slowly to hide behind. Eddie wiggled his way in front of Richie and wrenched the door open, trying to climb in.

“G-g-guys...chill. Don’t hurt, Mama. She’s a sensitive car.” Bill said nervously at their squabble. Richie caught Eddie’s legs to pull him out before he could sit down.

Eddie yelled trying to free his legs, “I get car sick!” Eddie complained while kicking at Richie. He had managed to turn Eddie around, but Eddie was holding onto the door frame for dear life.

“You lie, dear lollipop! You just get so nervous when others drive you that you make yourself sick.” Richie was grinning smugly because he knew Eddie would not be able to hold on for very much longer.

“Same difference!” Eddie could feel his hands start to slip. “Fuck.”

“This is not how I pictured getting between your legs for the first time,” Richie laughed crudely. Every single loser groaned at the horrible innuendo.

Eddie aimed a well-placed kick to Richie’s chest for revenge. The lanky boy stumbled back rubbing at the new pain. Eddie slammed the door and locked it, then rolled down the window to stick his tongue out. “HA! Suck it, Richie!”

“Buy me dinner first,” Richie choked out as Eddie flipped him off. “You kicked me! The jelly bean of my eye kicked me.” Richie was in total shock.

Stanley glared at them, “You deserved it.” He checked his watch again. “Get in the fucking car everyone. We need to get Mike. I’ll sit behind Bill since I am navigating.”

Bill and Eddie looked at each other anxiously from inside the car. Ben, Beverly, and Richie stood staring at Stanley in surprise.

“Stan...is that such a good idea?” Beverly said hesitantly.

He looked at her incredulously, “Why wouldn’t it be? It’s my family’s place, I know how to get there.”

Ben piped up, “Sure, it's just that...when you are under pressure...you kind of…” Stanley’s gaze darkened and Ben lost his courage to continue.

“That is to say,” Beverly tried to explain sensitively, “When you have to be in charge of directions you...it’s just…”

Richie interrupted because this was taking too long, “What Benverly are so eloquently trying to say is YOU have a terrible sense of direction, will get us lost, then freak the fuck out in a typical Stan the Man way. Eddie should navigate.”

“Don’t bring me into this,” Eddie said warningly from his seat.

Bill leaned over Eddie to speak out the passenger window. “Eddie can just do it, Stan. He’s a really good n-n-navigator.”

Stanley gapped at all of them trying to hide his hurt, “I will not freak out! And I can read a stupid map, Bill!” Stanley went to Eddie’s window and grabbed the map from Bill’s hand.

“I’m n-n-not s-s-sayin yuh-yuh-you can’t…” Bill always stuttered worse when people were upset at him.

“I will be perfectly fine to navigate, stuttering Bill. Let’s GO!” Stanley stormed to the other side of the car. Eddie saw Bill flinch at the harsh use of his usually endearingly spoken nickname. Bill leaned back in his seat looking straight ahead.

“So excited to spend the weekend with my besties!!” Richie cheered sarcastically. “We are so good at communication.”

“Beep beep, Richie,” Beverly said quietly. “I’m going to sit in the middle because I get a bit car sick on long rides if I can’t look forward.”

“I call next to Bev!” Riche yelled. They put the back seat down so Ben could climb into the way back. Eddie tried to glance at Stanley for reassurance that he was not too mad, but his face was hidden behind the map. Beverly gingerly sat down in the middle seat beside Stanley, as Richie squished next to her slamming the door.

Eddie saw Beverly slowly place her hand on Stanley’s arm. He tensed, then folded up the map taking a deep breath, “I’m sorry, Bill.”

“All good,” Bill shrugged and the subject was dropped for now. “Play some muh-music Eddie.” He started the car and drove out of the driveway.

Eddie went into his CD holder, “What do we want to listen too?”

“AC/DC!” Richie shouted.

“Joan Jett!” Beverly countered.

“Journey!” Ben said.

“I’d listen to some Journey.” Stanley agreed.

“Alright, Journey before Mike gets here and judges us.” Eddie popped in the CD.

“I’m judging us.” Richie pointed out.

“We’ve got 4 and a half hours in this car together. I will only be judging us.” Stanley said smiling as the rest of them laughed.

They got to Mike’s place and Ben worked to fit everything in the car. It was jam-packed with their bags, coolers for drinks, and snacks galore. They said goodbye to Derry and were off on their adventure.

HOUR 1:

“I want to listen to Michael Jackson.” Mike pretested. Currently, the car was filled with AC/DC music.

“No Mike, we always listen to Michael,” Beverly said. “How about Tears for fears?”

“THRILLER!!!” Mike sang.

“That’s such a spooky song,” Ben said.

“It's close to midnight and something evil's lurkin' in the dark,” Mike kept singing. Eddie turned in his seat so he could look back at Mike. He was giving Ben crazy eyes, which made everyone laugh.

Ben giggled nervously, “We should be listening to Christmas music, it is December.”

“That’s not fair to Stan.” Beverly pointed out patting his hand.

“It doesn’t matter much to me-”

Mike put his hands on Stanley’s shoulders, startling the poor guy. “Under the moonlight you see a sight that almost stops your heart.”

“You just about stopped my heart,” Stanley put his hand on his chest.

“Gay,” Richie said.

Eddie smacked Richie’s leg and watched as Mike removed his hands from Stanley’s shoulders then unbuckled his seatbelt. Eddie shook his head about to say something when Mike sang louder, “You try to scream but terror takes the sound before you make it,” Mike crawled half over the backseat between Stanley and Beverly.

“Mike!” Stanley yelled, “Put your seatbelt back on!”

“Sit down Mike!” Bill said harshly glaring at the rearview window. Eddie watched Ben struggle to pull Mike back but the taller and stronger boy would not budge.

Mike’s voice was drowning out the AC/DC music at this point, “You start to freeze as horror looks you right between the eyes, YOU’RE PARALYZED!” Everyone was shouting at Mike to sit down, except Richie who had joined in singing.

“JUST PUT THE SONG ON EDDIE!” Stanley shouted looking at him with terrified eyes. Stanley, Ben, and Beverly managed to yank Mike back into his seat. Stanley hurriedly buckled Mike as the guy just laughed at his friend.

Eddie went into his CD case, took out his Michael Jackson Disc and popped it in the player blasting Thriller.

“Don’t do that,” Stanley said berating Mike.

“Aw, Stan! You care so much for me. Now shush! The king of R&B is singing.” Mike and Richie sang thriller doing the dance moves in their seats.

They kept listening to Michael Jackson but when Billie Jean came on, Richie was getting bored. “Why is every love song so fucking straight,” Richie complained.

Beverly laughed, “Rich, I keep telling you to give David Bowie a chance.”

“No, I refuse.”

“You have no reason to not like him. You just don’t because he’s different from other rockers.” Eddie huffed out.

“I am not that shallow, Eds.”

“Don’t—“

Beverly interrupted, “Richie you are a self-proclaimed bisexual man, you should try to listen to him!”

“Just because Bowie is bi doesn’t mean I’ll like his music,” Richie argued.

“I always thought Richie was Eddie sexual,” Mike said aloud.

“MIKE!” Eddie yelled horrified as he buried his red face in his hands. Everyone laughed and Eddie heard a hive-five behind his seat.

“Anywayyyy,” Beverly continued, “He’s so provocative and incredible. Please, let’s listen to one song.”

Richie considered it for a moment then conceded, “Fine. Put him on.”

“WHAT!” Eddie spun in the passenger seat. The seat belt prevented him from turning fully. “Ow,” He gasped rubbing at where the belt jabbed into his neck. He went to unbuckle his seatbelt so he could look at Richie properly.

Stanley reached forward and put his hand firmly over Eddie’s hand. Eddie glared at him viciously. “What the hell, Stan?”

Stanley did not back down or remove his hand, “You aren’t pulling a Mike. Only one of us can give heart attacks over seat belt behavior. Keep it on!” They kept staring daggers at each other until Stanley slowly removed his hand, ready to prevent Eddie from unbuckling if he had too.

Richie leaned over Beverly to make eye contact with Eddie and give a shit-eating grin, “Here’s my beautiful face for you to yell at, you tasty gummy bear.”

Eddie’s gaze sharpened on him, “I spent HOURS trying to convince you to listen to Bowie but you kept stubbornly refusing. Beverly barely even tried.”

“Beverly’s my best friend, you're my boyfriend. Not listening to you is my job. Keeps your ego in check.” Beverly laughed behind him. She pushed his head down so she could make innocent eyes at Eddie.

“Un-fucking-believable.” Eddie turned back to face front. Richie poked his side and he jumped reflexively.

“Put it on, marshmallow.” Richie cooed. “Give me some of that sweet Bowie sound.”

Eddie blushed as the rest of the car laughed at them. He grabbed his CD case and put in his David Bowie mix. He scrolled to the best song he could think of and let it play.

The smooth rock sound began with a clever rhythm. Everyone stayed silent to listen. Eddie lip-synced along to the words.

“I, I will be king

And you, you will be queen

Though nothing, will drive them away

We can beat them, just for one day

We can be heroes, just for one day...”

Eddie heard, “I love this songggg.” From Ben in the back but someone shushed him so Richie could really focus.

“...We can be heroes

Just for one day

We can be heroes…”

When the song ended Richie immediately said, “THAT IS LITERALLY OUR LOSER CLUB THEME SONG. PLAY IT AGAIN.”

Bill laughed, “You s-s-said Africa by Toto was our them-m-me song last week.”

“I spoke too soon! I have now been blessed with Bowie’s Heroes. EDDIE PLAY IT AGAIN!” Richie grabbed his sides to poke him repeatedly.

“Do...Not...Richie...don’t!” Eddie was trying to hold back laughs as he was tickled. “I’m pressing play! Chill dipshit.”

HOUR 2:

“Beverly, did you pack cigarettes?” Richie asked worriedly.

“Yes, I...wait...Richie, I left them on my dresser.” Beverly moaned.

“Fuckkkkkkkk.”

“This will be good for you two,” Ben said encouragingly. “You both have talked about quitting.”

“Not cold turkey!” Richie whined. Eddie was watching the road carefully and saw as Bill drove past where they were supposed to merge.

“Hey, Stan…” Eddie said anxiously. He turned his head to look at Stanley. His curly head was buried in the map, hands shaking a little, and legs fidgeting. Eddie and Beverly made eye contact both thinking the same thing.

“What,” Stanley said barely controlled.

“I think we were supposed to get on the other highway just now.” He said with caution.

“We’re lost.” Richie guessed.

“We are not!” Stanley brought down the map to glare at Richie.

“Let go of your pride and give Eddie the map,” Richie said with a casual tone. He truly lacked any tact.

“I am not being prideful!” Stanley defended. "And we are not lost!"

“Get off here, Billy,” Eddie interjected. “We need to turn around.”

“How do you even know that?! I have the map.” Stanley huffed.

“Memorized it,” He really did not want to fight with Stanley but he was not going to let them get lost.

“You’re all against me!” Stanley roared.

“No we aren’t Stan,” Mike’s calm voice came from the back. “I trust you with my life and you are amazing at many things. Directions just aren’t your strong suit.”

Eddie expected another explosion but it was completely silent. Then he felt the map being shoved into his hands. He looked back at Stanley as the boy crossed his arms and stared out the window frowning.

“Let’s play a car game!” Beverly said to break the tension.

“What game?” Bill asked a forced cheeriness.

“Padiddle!” Richie yelled excitedly. “It’s the best game!”

“Padiddle only works if we can see taillights are out. The sun is still out, so you can’t really tell.” Stanley pointed out. There was only a little bite to his voice, maybe he did not want to stay mad.

“And I am not striping in front of everyone for padiddle,” Eddie added over his shoulder.

“Only for me,” Richie laughed.

“Shut up, Richie!”

“I’ve got one.” Ben jumped in. “I used to play it with my mom. You look into other cars and make up stories about what might be going on. Someone starts it then it goes to a new person to continue the story. Does that make sense?”

“Start us off Ben,” Beverly insisted.

Ben cleared his throat, “Alright, see the car on the right a little ahead of us? There are three teenage girls inside.” Eddie turned to see a red jeep with the three girls. “Tiffany, Tamera, and Tina decided to run away from home because everything was becoming too overwhelming...”

Mike spoke up, “So they packed up everything they could and took to the road not looking back. However, Tina had a secret...”

“That secret was um…” Stanley hesitated, “That she wanted to marry Tamera and Tiffany’s older brother Terri. He was planning to meet them in Vegas in a week so they could get hitched...”

Beverly continued, “Tamera and Tiffany would later be enraged that their friend would lie to them and make a plot to get even...”

“They would lure Terri and Tina into a false sense of security,” Richie said in a spooky voice. “By saying the wedding was a great idea but really they were going to kill them both for their treachery...”

Eddie piped up, “The murder would be slow and painful. However, Terri and Tina found out about the murder plot and decided to plan their own murder!”

“The wedding was a mess of murder and chaos and only one of them survived. The end.” Bill finished.

“Bill,” Ben said, “What the fuck, who survived?”

“Yeah!” Richie hit Bill’s shoulder, “You can’t leave it there.”

“You’ll never know.” Bill grinned.

Stanley laughed to himself, “I’m more concerned that we turned it into a murder spree. Do we need therapy?”

“Definitely,” They all said in unison.

HOUR 3:

“Are we there yet?”

“No.”

“What about now?”

“Do you see us at the cabin yet?”

“When will we be there?”

“Richie, shut up.” Stanley and Richie had been going on like this for a couple minutes now. Richie’s constant stream of thoughts unyielding. “Eddie, make him stop.”

“If I knew how I would,” Eddie said lazily.

“Pull over Bill! I have to take a piss.” Richie said.

“Can you hold it another hour?” Stanley said frustratedly.

“No can do Stan the Man. When Mother Nature calls, you don’t ignore it. Just pull over—”

“Actually, can we go to a gas station so I can go?” Beverly asked.

“Sure,” Bill put the indicator on to get off the highway. Ben, Beverly, and Richie got out much to Stanley’s complaining.

“Get me skittles while you're in there!” Mike yelled to them. Richie gave a thumbs up.

“I feel like one of us should follow them,” Stanley said anxiously.

Eddie turned his head to look at him reluctantly. “By ‘someone’ do you mean me?”

Mike waved his hand dismissively, “Ben’s there, he’ll make sure they behave.”

“Ben has the backbone of a chocolate eclair,” Stanley said deadpan.

It took a moment for the joke to sink in but slowly Bill, Mike, and Eddie started laughing. They were cracking up so hard their sides hurt. Eddie was wiping away tears as he said, “You should have a fucking standup act, Stan.”

“B-but his only audience would b-b-be us.” Bill said turning in the driver's seat to smirk at Stanley.

“It’s the only audience he needs,” Mike put his hand on Stanley’s shoulder good-naturedly.

“Bunch of softies,” Stanley mumbled smiling.

Bill’s eyes shifted to Eddie’s window. He squinted with his mouth slightly agape. “Why are they running?” Eddie whipped his head to look out the window. He saw Richie yelling something; with Ben a little before him running faster than Eddie had ever seen him run; and Beverly taking up the rear.

“Richie is shouting something,” Eddie rolled down the window. His heart beating a little faster.

“START. THE. FUCKING. CAR.” Richie screamed. They were almost to the van.

Eddie looked to Bill, whose eyes were wide in confusion but he started the car saying, “Shit shit shit shit.” Over and over.

Ben got to the van first his momentum banging into the car then wrenching the back door open. He climbed into the middle seat saying, “COME ON BEV!” Out the open door.

Richie opened the front passenger seat door. Eddie was so confused he did not have time to process as Richie plopped onto his lap, slamming the door after him. Eddie made an “Ugh” sound at the surprising weight on his knees.

He tried to speak, “Richie! What the…”

Richie interrupted him, “Bill, put it in reverse, fucking be ready to go,” He leaned his back into Eddie’s chest putting his upper half to one side, so as not to squish Eddie. He could feel Richie’s heart beating a mile a minute.

“Babe, what happened?” Eddie asked trying to stay calm. He pushed back the curls sticking to Richie’s forehead, staring at him with concern. Richie leaned into the touch with his eyes closed taking deep breaths.

Suddenly, the weight of the car shifted as Beverly got in, “DRIVE BILL!” She screamed sliding the van door closed.

It was then that another voice could be heard through Eddie’s window. An angry vicious voice, “You shithead kids! I am calling the police!”

Bill was already putting the car in reverse then floored it out of the gas station and back on the highway. Eddie wrapped his arms around Richie’s waist tightly. Richie had his right hand gripping the grab handle above the door frame and his left on top of Eddie’s arms holding on for dear life.

Bill accelerated the car, they hit a pothole and everyone screamed as the car got a bit of air. Richie’s body lifted off Eddie’s for a moment then smashed back down on his lap as the car landed roughly. Eddie’s eyes prickled with tears at the impact on his crotch and he tried to muffle a scream as he instinctively tightened his grip around Richie.

“Rich,” Eddie said through gritted teeth, “Motherfuckingshitballs shift over a bit. That fucking hurt my dick.”

Richie chuckled, “Now’s not the time for dirty talk Eds.” He shifted to relieve him. Eddie pressed his face into Richie’s back, to hide his pained face and let the familiar cologne calm him down from a potential panic attack. Acting as a seat belt for Richie was proving terrifying.

“Someone explain what happened immediately,” Stanley said in a tone reminiscent of an angry parent.

“Not telling you, dad.” Richie responded immediately.

“Beverly and Richie are...are...IDIOTS.” Ben said in exasperation sounding on the verge of breaking down. “Sorry Bev, I don’t mean it but what you did was so dangerous and frankly careless.”

“I know I am so sorry,” Beverly choked out. Eddie could hear the coming of Beverly crying, so he tapped Richie to tell the story.

Richie got the hint, “Well as you all know...Beverly and I have an addiction to cancer sticks.”

“Already don’t like where this is heading,” Mike said from the way back.

“So just like when we used to swipe cigarettes as kids, we did operation ‘Flirt and grab’,” Richie explained.

Eddie shifted so his mouth was free. “Beverly, I hope Richie didn’t pressure you to um…”

“Whore myself?” She let out a small laugh even though it sounded watery from tears. “Don’t worry Eddie, I was not doing the flirting. I was not the man’s type.”

Eddie groaned, “Don't tell me…”

“That’s right!” Richie said passionately, “I took one for the team and turned on the Trashmouth charm. My flirting was going great and...”

“I somehow doubt that.” Stanley interrupted.

“Yeah Richie, you can barely flirt with Eddie.” Mike laughed, “You are a garbage can of Mom jokes, innuendos, and saying Eddie is cute.”

“That’s cause he’s the cutest!” Richie turned to kiss Eddie on the mouth. He did not reciprocate, peeved that Richie was even trying to flirt with someone else. “Don’t be mad at me, Laffy Taffy, it did not go in our favor.”

Eddie made a disgruntled noise, so Richie turned back forward trying to get comfortable against Eddie’s chest. Richie let both his arms settle on top of Eddie’s arms, which were still clutching around his waist for safety. Eddie put his chin on Richie’s left shoulder, their heads leaning into each other. “As I was saying, I flirted then Beverly snatched cigarettes while the foolish man was distracted. However, we did not count on him propositioning me, so I tried to shut down the mission too soon and the guy looked at his camera screen to see Beverly stealing. So I did the only sensible thing, hit a display of snacks to distract, grabbed Benny Boy’s hand and screamed ‘HAUL ASS BITCHES’.”

Eddie placed a hand over Richie’s mouth, “Inside voice.”

Richie pulled his hand away, “Oh! And nicked candy,” Richie reached into his pocket and threw a pack of skittles toward Mike’s direction.

“Thanks!” Mike said cheerily.

Richie opened his own pack of starbursts. He took out a red one and tried to feed it to Eddie. He grimaced, “Did you wash your hands after going to the bathroom?”

Richie rolled his eyes, “Yes, gumdrop.” Eddie let him plop the candy into his mouth, savoring the cherry goodness.

“Bill?” Beverly said nervously, “You’ve been quiet.”

Eddie shifted his head to look at Bill. His friend’s eyes were slits, brows furrowed and hands gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles were white. He was breathing harshly through his nose trying to stay calm. “I’m really disappointed in you guys.”

Eddie raised his eyebrows looking over his shoulder to see Stanley’s surprised eyes and Ben’s hurt face. He could not see Beverly with Richie’s body preventing any more movement but assumed she was none too happy. No one commented on the fact that Bill did not even stutter.

“We are sorry, Bill.” Beverly said in a small voice.

“I’m not, we got the cigarettes,” Richie shrugged. Eddie rolled his eyes toward Bill’s enraged expression.

“Suh-suh-sorry about this, Eddie.” Bill seethed before taking his right hand off the wheel and aiming for Richie’s crotch. Bill hit home and Richie yelled in pain. His body convulsed on top of Eddie as he put his hands over his hurt manhood. Richie automatically tried leaning forward but Eddie’s arms were a vice.

“Fucking hell, Big Bill.” Richie put his hands on both sides of his legs taking deep shuddering breaths of rage. Eddie rubbed his hands in slow circles above Richie’s stomach making shushing noises. This seemed to help a little. Eddie definitely did not feel sorry for Richie, he was always getting himself into these situations.

“Ok. We are even.” Bill said cracking a smile. The rest of the car exploded into laughter. It was about 20 more minutes before Bill asked if they should pull over so Richie could sit in the back again.

“No, I like sitting in Eddie’s lap. He never lets me.” Richie nuzzled his face into Eddie’s neck brushing his lips over his skin. Eddie’s mind began to swim at the distracting lips.

“That’s because you weigh too much,” But Eddie realized this was a weak excuse. He actually really liked Richie being on his lap. Ever since he was a kid, people wanted Eddie to sit on their lap because he was “small and cute”. It was different having someone important to him sitting so close. It actually felt very adult. Richie started pressing his hot mouth against his throat making Eddie’s pulse quicken. Richie ran his teeth lightly over the sensitive skin by Eddie’s ear then trailed wet kisses across his jaw. Eddie wondered briefly if Richie knew what he was doing to him. Then the lips smirked into Eddie’s neck and it was all too clear...Richie was aware of exactly what he was doing.

“Still think I weigh too much for ya?” Richie laughed into his ear. Then he shifted on his lap getting even closer to Eddie’s body making him gasp.

“Pull over,” Stanley mumbled. “Eddie and Richie are making me nauseous.”

Eddie felt mortified that he let Richie be so bold in front of their friends. His face was on fire.

“Just as I was about to give him a lap dance,” Richie laughed.

“Beep Beep Richie,” Eddie hissed.

“Also, does the car feel unbalanced?” Bill wondered aloud.

“Probably the extra Richie weight in the front,” Mike shouted.

“Everyone stop roasting me about my weight. Fucking rude.”

HOUR 4:

“Yep, the tire has definitely lost a lot of air pressure,” Ben said with a sigh, his breath showing in the air. They all stood around the wheel shivering from the cold. Richie was hugging Eddie and rubbing his arms to keep him warm.

“P-probably the p-p-pothole we hit,” Bill kicked the tire. “Mama deserves better than us.”

“You gotta use a straw to blow air back into the tire,” Richie suggested.

They all ignored him, “You got a spare?” Mike asked heading toward the trunk.

“Under all our shit,” Bill said miserably.

“Let’s work together to get it then,” Richie followed Mike. Eddie looked at him in surprise. He must feel guilty for being the reason this happened. Together they took out all their stuff that was blocking the latch where the spare tire lived.

“Oh good, it’s the same as the other tires. So we don’t have to get a replacement.” Ben said as him and Mike heaved out the tire. Bill picked up the Jack and lug wrench.

“Bev, can you…” Bill began.

“On it!” Beverly went into the glove compartment grabbing the driver’s manual.

Beverly, Ben, Bill, and Mike went to the front to start replacing the tire. Stanley and Eddie went to work on putting everyone’s stuff back in the trunk. Richie stood around smoking a cigarette giving terrible directions such as:

“You have to put your head under the car to get a proper angle, Benny boy.”

“It’s lefty hefty, righty titties.”

“Those directions are in Chinese.”

“You have to remove everything then quickly throw the tire underneath and pray to God it latches.”

Most of these joke made Beverly and Ben laugh but the rest ignored him. When Stanley and Eddie finished putting everything back in the trunk, Stanley said, “Since I don’t know anything about cars...I’m going to sit in the car before my ass freezes.”

“Rich,” Eddie said getting the attention of the crazy boy. “Leave them alone and let’s wait in the car.”

“Coming my Reese's Pieces,” Richie cooed. He turned to Beverly, “The old lady needs me.” She put her hand up to her mouth stifling a giggle.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Eddie glared. “Just get in the car, you idiot.” Eddie got into the front while Richie hopped in the back.

Stanley was already sitting in the car reading his copy of The Shining, his legs under a blanket he got from his bag. Richie scooted in the middle seat, grabbed half the blanket and snuggled next to Stanley, who promptly rolled his eyes but went back to reading.

“Stan the Man is so warm,” Richie said putting his head on Stanley’s shoulder. “Hope this doesn’t make you jealous, Eds. You are still number 1 cuddle bug.”

Eddie laughed, “I don’t get jealous when it comes to you.”

“Liar,” Stanley mumbled.

Eddie’s eyebrows raised, “Excuse me? What does that mean Stanny?”

He cleared his throat still not looking up, “Do you think Richie likes Bill better than me?” Stanley had raised his voice in a clear attempt to mimic Eddie’s voice. Eddie’s eyes went to Richie who was grinning from ear to ear.

“Oh come on,” Eddie said seriously, “I was like 10 when I felt that way.”

Stanley glanced up at him, “Stan, I think Richie has a crush Beverly. They always smoke and hang out. Richie knows I hate smoking, so they don’t invite me.”

Eddie crossed his arms, “14! I bet you can’t find a recent example.”

The trunk opened with a gust of cold wind, as Mike and Ben tossed the supplies and old tire in the back. Bill opened the driver’s side door and Beverly opened the back door to bring the seat down for the guys to pile in.

“Hey Bill, what did Eddie say to you a couple months ago about Richie being neglectful?” Stanley asked mischievously.

Bill looked at Eddie with a cheeky grin, “That Richie is neglectful b-because ‘he never hangs out with m-m-me anymore. I thought we were d-dating. He hangs out with everyone more than me. Don’t people d-dating see each other all the t-t-time? I miss him’.”

“That was at the beginning of our relationship!” Eddie said in horror. Richie had doubled over with laughter laying sideways on Stanley who had the biggest smirk on his face.

“But Eddie, you see each other every single day.” Beverly chimed in.

“I-I well...I mean…” Eddie did not know what he meant. This conversation was starting to be really embarrassing.

“I got one!” Mike said jumping into the way back with Ben following behind him. Beverly got in letting Richie stay in the middle seat. Bill started the car and they were back on course.

“Shut it Mike!” Eddie seethed glaring at his friend.

“No…” Richie said between laughs. “Please go on Mikey!”

“Last week, Eddie found out that a girl in homeroom likes Richie. So he made sure she knew you two were seeing each other by kissing in front of her locker the next day.”

“Traitor!” Eddie screeched.

“You said you were kissing me in public because I looked hot that day!” Richie said in mock hurt.

“Eddie thinks he plays it cool. It’s all an act.” Bill chuckled.

“I looked up to you once!” Eddie punched Bill’s shoulder.

“Eddie, it’s funny come on…” Stanley said through tears in his eyes.

Eddie pointed at Stanley, “JUDAS!” Everyone’s laughter got stronger.

“That’s it, I’m going to make this weekend unbearable for all of you. You think Richie and I were gross earlier? Just wait.” Eddie turned forward and opened the map harshly to make sure they were on the right track. “Beware my revenge bitches.”

“Do I get a say in this?” Richie asked poking Eddie's side. Everyone had quieted down a little at Eddie’s threat but were still cracking up.

Eddie frowned, “No, you’ll take my PDA and like it.”

“Fine by me, my jawbreaker.”

“Gross, I hate you.”

“Whatever you say, sweet tart.”

#Reddie #Eddie Kaspbrak #richie tozier #bill denbrough #beverly marsh #stanley uris #ben hanscom #mike hanlon #TheTheatregal Reddie Fanfiction #fanfic #it 2017 #kissing #gay #cursing #the losers club #i am a loser #It's Not My Fault #Shannon writes

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the-erickson-labrynthian · 6 years

Text

Nathan and the Allex Cube; Chapter Two, Part 2 of 2:

(Part One is here: https://the-erickson-labrynthian.tumblr.com/post/177639955117/nathan-and-the-allex-cube-chapter-two-part-1-of Also availble on my Wattpad if that’s easier to read for you: https://www.wattpad.com/user/BrandonErickson2 Happy reading!)

Part Two:

The water well was hidden across the south side of the property in a makeshift tarp nailed into the dirt, covering the top and making a circle along all sides, save for a small part that could be pulled open to enter. It was used by a few people in the small neighborhood of houses, but many of the nearest homes around were empty, so those who came were farther down the road, free from the smoke inhalation and the loud booming burst of an exploding machine. They were free from the ash.

In fact, the only dust they knew was the dust everyone knew. This kind wasn't ash, just dust. The blowing dust of a lifeless field. The smaller and rounder bits that were even harder to get out of the windows and out of the nose. And, while it wasn't ash, it burned just as bad. The sun baked everything around here, hours on end. Days on end, even.

There was no life here, just buildings, technology, and the well. A well that connected to an underground reserve that filled from an overflow in a dam far away. So far away, Nathan couldn't get there in a day. Not even a week. It wouldn't matter anyways, should he want to go there, that was for normal people. The cities were for the rich boys and the loved boys and the non-boys, not for the boys.

The dust—the only thing in the desert with life of its own— had already gotten into Nathan's eyes the second the door opened. That was Nathan's fault for opening the second a strong wind came. Renold was kind and offered to sweep it up. Nathan hit himself on the head and carried on. He looked at the tent a good block away, surprised after all these gusts and pounds and pounds of dust, that the tent still held on. That was the hidden genius and ingenuity that his father could put into what he built, should he build the right things.

Nathan learned pretty immediately when he moved here that it didn't matter where someone would put their face during the gusts. He started out thinking if he pulled his head down that the dust would miss him, but it followed the line of his skin surreptitiously, moving along with the curves until it could fling itself against his eyes again. Even if the dust did by some miracle miss his eyes, his hair would be ruined and tangled, and his back would be coated in the stuff.

At one point Nathan thought if he pulled his shirt up like he always did with the ash, that the dust wouldn't get in. The thing about dust was that it always got in. If there was a sliver of space, there was no safety.

No, these options wouldn't work. What Nathan figured out was that the best chance someone had was to close their eyes and just walk forward, and hope they knew where they were going. Nathan did just this, closing his eyes and heading in a straight line to the tent, like he had done a thousand times before. It worked, until he tripped over a rock, slamming his face against the ground, giving a whole new meaning to the term 'biting the dust', and making his bucket roll away.

"Dammit!" He cursed, pulling himself up. He wiped away debris from his face, but the sting remained, the burning scrapes along his arm and face that only showed up as a white line remained, and they hurt. Nathan had made himself bleed on accident and thought nothing of it, but if he scrapped a part of his body on the ground he would feel it for days.

After cleaning off his pants and shirt as best he could, Nathan went for his bucket and continued on with open eyes, sighing and muttering, "'Guess no system is perfect."

He rushed into the tent before another big gust came in and dropped the bucket under the red faucet connected to the pump. The perfect circle well that was next to the pump was only for show these days, something to look at as a mark of history. The real secret came out of the pump. Nathan grabbed the handle. It was cold to the touch, completely protected from the winds and the heat of the sun, though not from the dust. There was no such thing as protection from the dust.

Nathan tightened his grip around the handle and began pushing down, and then back up. A smooth system Nathan knew well. He made sure not to rush, just to move to a beat. Moving at a timed rate made the flow steady. It made the trip quick. It was already hard enough to fill one bucket. Nathan timed that it would usually be a good twenty-five pumps before the water would start coming out. It took that much energy and pressure to push it up from a place so far down—a place that really was free from the dust— and it took another twenty more just to get the bucket full.

This was a lot of work, but Nathan didn't mind, as long as he knew what he was doing. The best kind of work, in his mind, was clear and defined maintenance. There was nothing to mess up. Nothing to add nuance to. There was only one main directive. Pumping. Or even just lifting rocks and moving them over somewhere else. Anything that was a pattern. An easy cycle.

Nathan moved his whole body along with the pump, positioning himself to where he leaned down when the handle went down, and back up when it was up. He closed his eyes and let his hands do the work for him. A conversation went into his head. One from a long time ago, after one of the first few times he ever used the pump.

"Pump water? That's his special skill? Give me a break. 'Pain in my ass' is a better skill than that."

"His mind is simple, William, it gives him comfort."

"Simple is right on the money. Simple and stupid. I raised an idiot. He asked me once if stars were portals! And he was twelve!"

"You should have taught him more."

"He should've not been a dumbass. I can't teach a broken tool, and I can't fix him. Not here. If I could control how people act then I wouldn't even be here."

"If you chemically controlled how people behaved, you'd be just like them."

"Well, I-"

"You'd be the thing you ran from."

"I just want the best for my son!"

"He likes pumping water, he doesn't like dishes. Or laundry, or cleaning, he likes pumping water. Let him do that. I'll do everything else."

"Fine. Just don't complain about any extra work. I'm going to get a drink. I can't deal with this right now."

"I was never the one who complained..."

When the water of the bucket overflowed and sloshed onto the side of Nathan's leg, he stopped. Before grabbing the bucket, he took a moment to look at the pump again. He caressed it, just from one side to the other, and tapped on it a few times before sighing.

"Same time tomorrow?" He laughed.

No matter what the inanimate object thought, it was a 'yes' for Nathan. He picked up the bucket and steadied it in his hands. He watched the ripples in the water until they died down and his smooth reflection was revealed.

Nathan was almost horrified by what he saw. His eyes were sunken and heavily outlined in a darkness, with bags developing under them. He still had ash smudged onto his cheeks, possibly from today, possibly from days before. He hadn't washed himself properly in a while. He did what he could to look presentable, but there wasn't enough time to do more. His skin was usually a noticeable red, with a subtle tan that pushed out past that. Though, Nathan could never tell what was tan or what was dirt anymore. Everything that he used to be was coated in a thin layer of filth. Filth enveloped most of his life. Even his eyes, the most notable and bright part of his face with their grass color, had noticeable strain and dryness to them. There was barely any feature left that resembled a boy, other than the deep black of his hair, showing the only life left on his body.

Nathan brought himself back on task and took the bucket back to his house. Taking off his shirt, he used it to hold a cover on top of the bucket and pushed through the wind to the front door. After getting in, he went to the kitchen and set down the bucket, only to look up and see his father twirling around on the stool.

"What are you doing?" Nathan asked.

"Not running around naked like you, put your shirt on."

"I was just covering the water. You're the one who never got a lid."

William stopped twirling and faced Nathan, "Well, we don't have to worry about that anymore."

"What?"

William tilted his head to the other side of the counter. Nathan peered over to see five jugs that were even bigger than the bucket, filled to the brim with water. Nathan repeated, "What?"

"I know, right?" William laughed, "Took me like five minutes a couple nights ago. Why bother going out there and using the government-made well, when I can just drill a small one in my garage! Just a little drill that deconstructs into a tube, and then hook it up to a bike. Renold pedaled for maybe a minute tops before we had all that! I wonder why he forgot to tell you... well, either way, give me a day and I'll build something else so good no one will even need to pedal! Who needs the government?"

"I thought I got water?"

"Don't need 'ya anymore," William winked.

Suddenly, something else his father had said flashed into his mind, and repeated several times.

"Pump water? That's his special skill?"

Nathan tried to protest, "But, I was going to get a bucket for Renold to make-"

"Make food?" William interrupted, "Yeah, well a few nights back I also needed the flour... and butter... and sugar. Forgot to tell Renold it was gone, I suppose... needed it to make some more food for my bug traps. Last time I got a rat in there!" He exclaimed, "Their bones are useful as toothpicks, you know. You can just go pick some fruit if you want food."

"The trees are all picked Dad. They haven't given fruit in weeks."

"What? I thought we were in Malara?"

"That was last month, Dad..."

"Hmm. No wonder I am running out of liquor. 'Kay, you can just wait on the food then, right?"

Nathan grabbed his stomach, "I... I guess."

"Good. Maybe on the way I'll run over something," He laughed, "In all seriousness, I will be gone for a little while. Got my finishing touches on my big project, and I have to steal another barrel of whiskey. Shipping day!" He threw his hands in the air, "My favorite day! I want you to stay out of my garage, so I'm locking it. Until I get back, don't mess anything up. I don't want more smoke when I get home."

"Fine... Dad."

"Oh, when is the next night?"

Nathan thought about it. Night was something rare around his house, and the last one was a few weeks back. A small moment, a few hours where there was no light. The last night, Nathan played around the neighborhood, feeling how cold the road became, how the season seemed to flip to winter (something Nathan hadn't really experienced since they lived further north). Then he watched the sunrise. It was one of the few acts of nature that maintained its beauty so far into the wastelands where he lived.

The best part, however, was far beyond the sunrise. It was the stars. Nathan longed to see them again.

"Nathan?"

Nathan snapped out of his head, "I think it's tonight."

William scratched his chin, "Glad I was right, then. Had to double check with someone. Alright, I'll be going then."

"Have fun, I guess..."

"And Nathan?"

"Yeah?"

William paused, "Clean yourself up. There's plenty of water. Have Renold replace what'cha use."

Nathan held in a sigh, "Alright."

William smiled and got up, ruffling Nathan's hair before going out the front door. A few seconds later, as Nathan sat down, he could hear the car screeching past, barely hanging on. Nathan rested his head on the table.

"Pump water? That's his special skill?"

"His mind is simple, William."

Simple. When Nathan heard 'simple', he heard 'stupid'. When Nathan heard 'simple', he heard 'dumbass'. When Nathan heard 'simple', he heard 'not good enough'. Now Nathan didn't even have his water job. What could be even lower than 'simple'?

Non-existent.

Nathan bumped his head over and over on the table, and repeated those lines. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

Nathan tried, a few years back, to build a potato clock. William said it was the first functioning thing he had made, and that he had done it when he was nine.

"And then I taught my father how to do it. And then Grandpa. Heck, I showed all of my friends. But I always made sure not to tell them the last step. Can't let those jerks do it all, can I?"

"Would be nice."

' William rolled his eyes, "Wouldn't prepare them for shit. Alright, step one, get two potatoes."

"Potatoes. Check."

"Step two, don't think like how you would, think like me. Better, basically."

"You're an ass."

"That's how it's done!" He laughed, "Step three, get the LED clock, the battery, those two wires, those two nails and those three clips and lay them out in between the potatoes."

"This seems a little complicated, shouldn't I just learn how to make something easi-"

"Shut up and do as I say!"

Nathan sprawled them out, only for William to take them and organize them.

"Alright, four, you're gonna want to stick your nails into the potatoes. Left potato is negative, right one is positive. Remember that."

"Alright," Nathan did as told before William slapped his hand.

"No! Put 'em straight in, you idiot! Listen to me!"

"You didn't specify-"

' "Five! Put the wires in on the opposite side you put the nails in."

"Alright."

"See these clips?"

"Yeah..."

"They have to connect to the wires and the clock. Do it."

"But which ones?"

He put on a smile, "Figure it out."

Nathan started stuttering, "B-but you just s-said-"

"Figure it out! You're thirteen! You can do it!"

That day, Nathan spent an hour staring at the wires and how they connected. He made one move to connect a clip to a wire and he got slapped on the hand again, but was still given no directions. He tried another clip and was just about to connect them before William pushed him aside, screeching, "What, do you want to blow up the clock in your face?"

Before Nathan could respond, William went into another ramble about his 'no-good son' and that he 'wasted a good clock'. Nathan watched as William put each piece in without thinking, and the clock immediately turned on. Nathan saw how they were supposed to connect, but didn't know what specific wires had to be in what place. He tried to ask, but every sound he made was met with, "Shut the hell up, you ingrate! Do you understand anything?"

Ever since then, Nathan has failed every task. Not one mechanic piece right. Not one right decision made. It would take him four tries to hand his father a wrench, even after already knowing what a wrench was. Nathan didn't know why he couldn't do anything right. He slammed his head against the table again.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

Suddenly a familiar hand was around the back of his neck. The hand gripped tightly on the upper back and lower neck and started making circles. Nathan sighed and slumped backwards into his seat.

"Are you okay, Nathan?" Renold asked.

"Dad went out."

"Yes, he told me. That wasn't what I asked, you know."

"Well, that's my answer..."

Renold got closer and tightened his circles on a lower spot on the shoulders, asking quietly, "What did he tell you?"

"All about the thing he made so quick that immediately made me worthless."

"Oh..." Renold breathed in and finished the sentence with the breath out, "That stupid bike. I told your father he didn't need to build it. Told him you were happy to do it just fine every day. He told me to pedal away, and said that he was... 'proving a point'? I don't understand your father, but I have to listen to him. You know that."

"You're so much better than him, why do you have to..." Nathan took a second and changed his mind, "Nevermind."

"He is nice to me. Not nice enough to you, it's true, but he tries. He has a lot on his mind these days. It seems like you do too."

"I'm confused. All the time. And angry sometimes. And always stirring around. I just..."

"You know, I've heard this talk so many times, about how children grow. On a television you see it for every show. You feel. All the time. That's how it is, to be the age you are. You feel everything, and at the same time you feel nothing. Your father goes through the same thing."

"On a television? When was this?"

"It's been a while. You were younger. We'll get another one when we get the chance. Either way, it is a part of the way you are. The way you both are."

"So you're saying he hasn't grown up? He's just acting my age?"

"In some ways, yes. He can't help it. It isn't about maturity. It's about upbringing. It's about..."

"Circumstance?"

"See? You're thinking about it. Think about it. Try to feel for him. He likes to be on top, and there's a reason for the way that is."

"I know, you've told me a million times. I... I just can't see it, Renold. I can't grasp it. I don't know what to do."

"Maybe it isn't you to understand? How about this? Close your eyes and relax. Breathe. Let things be a little less heated than they can be. That is a good start to understanding. That is better than nothing."

"Will you help me?" Nathan asked.

"Of course," Renold reassured.

"Then, could you go a little lower?"

"Ha, of course, sir."

"You know you don't need to call me 'sir'."

Renold paused, "Well... there's some things we all can't help doing."

For once, Nathan understood.

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scaredbisexual · 6 years

Text

Meet me at night: Two

Part One

Summary: AU where Eddie and Richie are not allowed to meet up anymore, so they come up with another way to see each other.

Word Count: 1144

-Mrs. K. what a surprise!- Richie was the first one to stand up and try talking with Eddie’s mom. She looked furious, her nostrils wide, eyes squeezed and fists clenched tight. Her whole face was red like a tomato and her glare directed at the smallest boy. Eddie was still sitting on the floor in Richie’s sweatshirt, his body shaking with unshed tears and filled to the brim with fear.

-Get. Out.- Mrs. Kaspbrak said, almost growled, through clenched teeth and opened the door to throw kids away.

They weren’t able to comprehend what was going on, mouths hanging agape, heads frantically turning to see if anyone was moving. Bill stood up, pulling Stan up with him and clearing his throat. He shot a quick look at the others, letting them know that it would be better, if they left. Beverly was the first one to sharply nod and hop off the armchair, making her way to the doorway. Bill had secretly hoped that someone would do that, so he didn’t have to be the one to pass this insane woman.

-Ma, it’s the middle of the nig..- Eddie had tried to stop her from throwing his friends out. It was maybe 2 a.m. and he didn’t want them to go through darkness alone, something bad could happen and he would never forgive himself, nor his mom, for that.

-Shut up!- she was quick to interrupt him. She was even more angry if possible.

-Hey, Eds, it’s fine, we will be fine- Richie whispered and smiled apologetically. Eddie wanted to cry, but he just nodded and let his mom throw his friends away into the darkness.

After this night Eddie was banned from leaving the house and having anyone over for two weeks. Especially Richie, since his mother hated that “awful boy with mouth bigger than IQ” and used this opportunity to try and ruin their friendship.

-If I ever see you with this boy again, I’ll call the police and send him to jail- she had said that night and he knew she wasn’t joking.

It was summer holidays and he wasn’t able to leave his house, full of clanging containers filled with pills and his overprotective mother and he was starting to feel really claustrophobic when he was thinking about it. Since he could remember, he would always spend all of the vacation with his friends, walking around Derry, looking for adventures and having the time of his live. He couldn’t imagine having to wait another fourteen days to live that life again.

And the Richie thing, that was a major issue. The local Trashmouth was his best friend, the one he couldn’t stand not talking to for more that few hours. Richie, despite his big mouth and awful mom jokes, was the sweetest boy Eddie knew. He had a great taste in music too and loved showing Eddie his new founds he had bought earlier at the antique store for a dollar. It was never the same genre, really, and it was the most amazing thing about it. Eddie never knew what was going to blast through the speakers- sometimes it being some rock songs, other times love ballads or candy pop with silly lyrics.

Eddie was waiting for this vacation this whole year- he had a big plan, well actually all of the Losers had. They wanted to spend some time working, few of them already doing it during school year, and then leave Derry for few days and organize some kind of road trip. Mike and Richie had already gotten their driving licenses and they could easily fit into their cars.

But now Eddie was grounded, sitting in his bedroom and watching sun on its journey through the sky. It was already an early evening and Eddie honestly didn’t expect his thoughts to consume that much of his free time. During this day he had finished a book he was reading for few weeks now, never having time to end it. Then he had cleaned his room and got lost in memories while looking at some old photos of him and his friends.

After dinner he went straight to his room, wishing his mother good night and put on some movie on his small tv. It was The Goonies and although Eddie loved it, he had quickly dozed off.

He woke up to some unknown sound, to be more specific, banging on his window. He had his room on the second floor, so it wasn’t possible right? The little boy quickly got up and quietly moved to open his window. His hands shaking from fear and breath uneven, he looked down and mentally kicked himself for being such a cry baby.

On the green grass right below his window was Richie, smiling at him like a madman with hands full of little stones. He waved to Eddie, threw the stones away and began climbing to Eddie’s room. It was so Richie to be honest. It was the first time for such situation to take place during night, but when Eddie had been grounded earlier, they sometimes had pulled it off. Each time the sight of Richie had made him blush and his heart clench in happiness. It was nice knowing that he made so much effort to meet up with Eddie.

-You scared the shit out of me!- the smaller boy shout-whispered when Richie softly landed on the floor of his room. It was night, the movie he was watching had ended long ago and he could hear his mother snoring in the living room.- What the fuck are you even doing here, my mom is going to kill you!

-Don’t worry about it, Eds. It seems she had swallowed a train, she won’t wake up- Richie chuckled and threw himself onto Eddie’s unmade bed.- We are going out- he stated.

-I think the fuck no and do not call me that- Eddie frowned and folded his arms. That wasn’t happening, nuh-uh. He was already grounded for two weeks and didn’t want to not be able to go out for the rest of summer if his mother found out. It wasn’t an option.

Richie rolled his eyes and stood up, putting his hands on Eddie’s shoulders and shaking him slightly.

-Come on Eds, we will be back in few hours, Mrs. K. won’t know, I promise- he begged. It didn’t help Eddie to think rationally when the taller boy’s lips pouted and he looked straight into his eyes, almost touching his soul.

It wasn’t a good idea and Eddie was fully aware of it. He knew that he shouldn’t give in. But Richie was so close, his curly hair falling into his forehead and shirt smelling like combination of cigarettes and roses and he didn’t know how and when, but he nodded his head.

-Yeah, okay, let’s do it.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed it! Sorry for any mistakes and thank you for reading! :)

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god7072therescue · 6 years

Text

Vanderwood diary pt. 2!!

Okay! Here is the second part to my Vanderwood head cannon. I hope you guys enjoy!!

A/N: So in about three hours I have to go work in the mall on black friday. I’m using this to relieve my stress so I can get through the day hehe but this will include a lot of profanity and maybe some NSFW themes ~~

What in the fuck are you doing, Vanderwood?

Vanderwood has to keep reminding himself that he cannot light a cigarette because he is on a plane

Why is he on that plane?

Because he’s a fucking idiot He was on his way to meet MC’s parents

He did not want to admit it, but he was nervous as h e l l

How in the hell do you introduce yourself to your girlfriend's family??

How do families even work...?

And of course he had to sit in front of a fucking child who continuously kicked the back of his seat

Vanderwood, put that taser away;;;;

How did you even get a taser on the plane??

The woman sitting beside him was terrified of him at least, so she remained silent beside him

But to his surprise, even the 17 hours he spent in flight was not enough to calm his nerves

Vanderwood, you have been to hell and have the scars to prove it, man the fuck up

By the time the plane landed, he was shaking from how bad he needed a cigarette

He never knew how dependent he was on them until now.

He got off the plane as fast as he could with out causing too much attention so he could hurry up and get the fuck outside so he could smoke a damn cigarette

And also because he could not wait to see MC

He didn’t even wait by the luggage pick up to get his suitcase

He just stood right outside the door to where it was in eye sight and he lit one up as he waited for the damn thing to turn on already.

He was nearly done with his cigarette before it finally turned on

He quickly put his cigarette out so he could quickly get his luggage and get the fuck away from the airport

He rented a car before he even got there so there was a car waiting for him

He just took the keys from the man and threw his luggage in the bag, both eager to see MC and ready to get this Thanksgiving bullshit over with

He went about 15 over the speed limit to where MC’s family was

thank god seven invented an app on his phone to notify him when a policeman was near;;;

Much too soon, Vanderwood arrived outside of MC’s family’s house at noon on Thanksgiving.

He sat in the car for a moment just glaring at the house debating if he was truly ready to deal with your family.

He pictured the ecstatic look on MC’s face, which made him exhale in annoyance as he begrudgingly got out of the vehicle

he leaned against the car and observed the house for a moment, trying to gauge what kind of a family MC could have

The house wasn’t too big, but it was in a decent neighborhood

It just looked like an ordinary house

Just go knock on the door, jack ass

He let out a breath as he straightened his jacket and tried to tame his long hair after a 17 hour flight

Maybe a leather jacket wasn’t the best attire;;;

But at least he was here

He walked up to the door and knocked with two short swift knocks

He heard a lot of commotion going on on the other side of the door

He heard the voice of an older man, “I’ll get it!!” over all of the talking

Fuck, a lot of them were there

He hears the sound of a door unlocking and he is now face to face with MC’s father

The man was a few inches shorter than Vanderwood so he peered up at him with questioning eyes, “What can I do for you, sir?”

Vanderwood was flustered at seeing her father so soon he had hoped that MC would answer the door

Vanderwood cleared his throat before answering the man, “I was looking for MC, is she home?” Vanderwood eyed the man to see his reaction, hoping he was polite enough

The man eyed him up and down suspiciously before he called into the kitchen for MC

Vanderwood could ear MC’s voice through the hall ways as she was replying to her father, “Who is it? I don’t remember invi-”

Her words died in her throat as she took in the sight of Vanderwood standing in the doorway right beside her father and looking as good as the day she left him

Vanderwood couldn’t contain the smile threatening to break free across his face and he opened his arms slightly as he took in her beautiful form.

She was wearing a red dress that was significantly less revealing from his favorite with knit leggings to protect her legs from the cold

She looked fucking adorable

MC completely disregarded her dad standing in the door way and barreled past him to jump into vanderwood’s arms with so much force, it send him staggering backwards.

He couldn’t keep from laughing lightly as she hugged him tight around the neck and showered in his face with kisses

“What are you doing here?!”

“I got off of work early and decided that I should come here and spend the week with you.”

He narrows his eyes slightly because he’s noticed how open he is being with her right now, but he still holds her up off the ground as he speaks with her

She laughs because she saw how fast his facial expression changed and knew exactly what it meant

He was embarrassed irritated

The both of them heard someone clearing their throat behind them, causing vanderwood to instantly put MC down on the ground.

MC was red in the face but she did not care at the moment because she could not believe he was there!

MC grabbed Vanderwood’s arm and led him to the doorway to introduce him to her very confused father.

Vanderwood extended his hand to the older man and said, “Hello, my name is Vanderwood . I am MC’s boyfriend, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

He got that right out of a movie;;;;

He had never dated anyone before because it was not allowed

therefore he had never really been “introduced to a family”

The fathers face lit up and he grabbed vanderwood’s hand and shook it firmly, “So, you’re that boy MC’s been taking about! Come in, Come in!”

Vanderwood looks down to MC with the slightest smirk on his face as he waits for the dad to walk further into the house so he can plant a firm kiss on her lips

Cut the man some slack he missed her

He moved one hand to where it was firmly placed at the nape of her neck and the other went around her waist and pulled her against his body

He supported so much of her weight her toes barely touched the ground

He quickly pulled away so her father wouldn’t see them but his eye were still locked with hers, promising to finish this later

MC could only stare back because GODDAMN

MC then lead Vanderwood into the house

That was when the chaos happened

there were about fifteen people gathered around a table, all of them staring at Vanderwood and MC

“MC! When did you get a boyfriend?” “What does he do for a living?” “Aw MC he’s so hot where did you meet him? Does he have a brother?”

At this point the entire family tried to introduce themselves but kept on interrupting one another so he couldn’t keep the names straight in his head

They all helped him fix his plate and continued to bombard him with questions.

He tried to be polite as he could, but if any of them barely even teased MC, he had to remind himself that tasing them was not the polite thing to do

At least the food was good

Although, he had never eaten that much in his life

He was seated by MC thank god and kept a hand on her thigh the entire time, rubbing his thumb in a circle to at least keep himself sane while answering the questions

He could see how excited MC was to have him there and that thought made him admit that the trip was worth it.

At one point, he excused himself to go use the restroom so he could take a breather from the questions.

He took out his phone and text seven to see if he is actually doing his fucking work

He instantly received a text back, “Of cooouuuuurrrsseee Mary, just because you’re gone doesn’t mean I don’t work! But my floor misses you dearly!! You should come have a date and clean it soon!<3″

He didn’t finish reading that text.

He left the bathroom after a few minutes and sat right back beside MC.

He placed his hand on her thigh once again and took a sip of the wonderful sweet tea her grandmother had made.

He was in the middle of swallowing when her mother asked, “So when am I getting grand kids?”

Vanderwood’s tea went down the wrong pipe and he began choking at the mention of grand kids

MC patted Vanderwood’s back in a panic and looked at her mother as if she had lost her mind.

the mother laughed and lightly patted Vanderwood’s arm when he was able to breath again, “I’ll take that as a ‘not anytime soon”

The rest of the lunch was just as hectic but the attention was averted from vanderwood, to one of MC’s cousins who got accepted into Harvard.

Vanderwood and MC decide to go get some ice cream because they really wanted alone time dessert

The two of them wave to her family as they both head to his rental car

She gets into the passenger seat and waits for him to get in so she could jump on him talk to him

He gets into the drivers seat and immediately drives away from the house further away from town

Vanderwood grabs her hand as he drives in a comfortable silence with her until she says, “thank you for coming, it really means a lot.”

vanderwood huffs out a breath at that and says in a clipped tone, “you don’t need to thank me.”

MC looks over to the man in confusion because he was in such a good mood moments ago, what did she say?

Vanderwood sees a small road that leads into the forest that is lining the roads and drives all the way down to the end in silence until he parks it at the dead end and turns it off.

he turns in his seat to face her, “You don’t have to thank me for being a decent fucking boyfriend.”

“What do you mean? Where is this coming from?” She is starting to get genuinely worried because she can see that he is getting himself more and more worked up

He looked at her for a moment before he decided to admit the reason he came, “I found your diary, MC,” He saw the horrified expression on her face and spoke before he could interrupt him, “And it made me realize that I really need to step up my game with you.”

He looked forward before continuing because he needed to get all of this out before he lost his confidence, “I never realized how much I think certain things and never say them. Like how fucking gorgeous you are to me.”

“I could never get tired of you, you are never a burden and you never will be!” he looked over to MC with a passion in his eyes she had never seen in him before.

“ I never want you to think that badly about yourself again, do you understand me? You are the only important thing in my life and I never ever want you to think you are anything less.”

MC is at a loss for words as she watches him confess the feelings he has kept bottled up inside since the beginning of their relationship.

“I didn’t come today because I missed you, I came today because I wanted to prove to you that I am serious about you. The only thing that will be able to keep me away from you is death and even then I am going to haunt your ass.”

“Because I love you, MC. I love you so fucking much it hurts to go on missions any more because I am scared of what might happen if I don’t come back.”

he eyes her for another moment before he reaches across the seat to place one hand on her thigh and the other on her cheek and says, “Now get your ass over here because I have fucking missed you.”

images of that detailed dream MC had cross his mind as he helps her across the console to sit her in his lap.

He wastes no time in pressing his lips against hers, his hands lightly running up her clothed thighs and under her dress to feel the smooth expanse of her stomach

he breaks the kiss so he can look up to gauge her facial expression to see if she wants her to stop but she snakes her hand behind his neck to pull on his hair roughly before putting her lips against his forcefully

He lets out a chuckle before sliding the dress up her body and over her head so he can sit back to admire her figure

Then he leans forward to lick from the center of her chest to the nape of her neck, biting the sensitive flesh once he heard her exhale a shaky breath

All the while her family wondered what was taking them so long to get ice cream

#wooooooooow #vanderwood got more emotional than I expected #And this is my first time writing such a steamy scene

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riding-alpacas · 4 years

Text

Lost in heritage

When I put Bariloche and the surrounding Lake District on my long list of things to do in South America, I wasn't really sure what to expect. I had read about some nice lakes, beautiful mountains and a bit of Alpine-style architecture but what I found when I got here was pretty much... Germany. Just in Spanish. Okay, there might be some more minor differences, but I'll get to that later.

In terms of accomodation, I got a lot more lucky recently. For Bariloche I picked a place that was supposed to be a little bit outside of the city centre which I thought would mean quiet. However, it turned out that from Bariloche you have one busy main road that goes all along the huge Lake Nahuel Huapi and never really becomes quiet. The hostel was still an awesome choice though: It was small, the owner was super caring and best of all they had Alan - a chef who cooks an amazing three course meal every night for little money. During my four day stay, the other guests were also very nice and did not stare at a black mirror the whole day.

When I arrived, Alan immediately overwhelmed me with all the hiking choices you have in Bariloche. You can probably spend at least two weeks just with hiking. Conveniently most hikes are accessible by bus, so you don't even need a car. The first thing I wanted to do though was to buy a new rain jacket. So off I went into the city centre. And I bloody hated it. Bariloche is super popular as a vacation spot for Argentinians and they really try to squeeze every last cent out of you. At every corner you have shops where they try to sell you all sorts of shit that you don't need. You can book skydiving, rafting, canyoning - pretty much everything that you can do everywhere else, too. It was noisy, it was busy, I left it very quickly again without even getting my rain jacket. But not before having some amazing ice cream at a place called Rapanui though - there's got to be time for that.

The next day I wanted to mix things up a little bit after spending so much time with hiking before. When you follow the main road all the way to the end, you get to Circuito Chico: A 27 kilometre loop that goes past some short hikes, beaches, breweries and other smaller sights. Sounds like a perfect bicycle trip to me! After renting a two-wheeler I explored the area for the day. It was very sunny and hot, so I actually ended up just cycling from beach to beach to brewery and didn't do any of the hikes. I also took one of the famous chair lifts in town to get to one of the lookouts that gives you the view. When I spoke to Corinna recently, we agreed that pretty much every view in Bariloche is the same anyway. You see the surrounding lakes, mountains and forests and it doesn't differ much at all.

Good place for a nap

This looks familiar

I wanted to do at least one day hike while I was in the area though and after looking at all my criteria (accessible by bus, something with water, nothing that just gives you the view) I decided to tackle the 25 kilometre return hike up to Refugio Frey on day two. As usual, I started early to avoid the crowds. The hike itself was quite dull and uninspiring. It was also extremely dusty which actually turned out to be the case for all hikes in the Lake District. But what waited at the end was definitely worth it. There was a beautiful little lagoon, surrounded by an amphitheatre of spiky peaks and of course the Refugio itself which sold cold drinks. I spent a couple of hours up there, basking in the sun and just enjoying the scenery.

Spiky peaks

Great place for a refreshing dip

Now - I originally wanted to leave the German part until the end but I have to bring some aspects of it forward a bit because it fits into the current story. The whole area here basically looks 100% like South Germany/Austria/Switzerland. And not just the landscape, also the architecture (which is due to some immigration waves from Germany, some of them quite questionable). The hike to Refugio Frey started at a chairlift and in the morning I didn't really pay much attention to it. But when I came back down, I had to wait 45 minutes for the next bus and suddenly I found myself in the most bizarre situation. Trying to kill some time, I went to a little Kiosco for a cold drink. I sat down and the following happened (watch with sound!):

youtube

Where the fuck am I?

What. The. Fuck. Look at the scenery. Look at the architecture. Listen to the fucking music. This was probably the most German experience I ever had outside of Germany and it was just plain weird. For a moment I actually wanted to leave the area. This is not why I'm travelling. Why go to Argentina for something that you can actually 100% have in the country you grew up in? But to be fair: I like summers in Germany, I like freshwater lakes, I just had to change my attitude. This is beautiful and I should just enjoy it. It doesn't matter where I am, it only matters that it's nice. Well, maybe not the music, but the conditions, the setting, the water. Let's move on.

For my last two days the forecast was mainly saying two things: Hot and sunny. I surely didn't want to walk in the dust with these conditions and luckily I was surrounded by beautiful water everywhere. So I decided to book a little trip to a place called Isla Victoria - famous for its white beach. During the trip we also stopped at another island to look at some Myrtle trees that apparently inspired Walt Disney to make Bambi (he scotched this rumour at some point) but I was only interested in the beach. And when we finally got there, we had four hours time for it. I headed straight to the fine gravel and also for the first time in six weeks went for a little swim. How much I missed this! I'm totally out of shape but it felt good to just move in the water again. Water temperature was also quite ok with about 16 degrees close to shore.

Bambi trees

Please sun, turn me into a crab

On my last day, a thing called triathlon thwarted all my plans. Three wonderful girls (one of them having her own bikini brand, just saying...) and I wanted to spend the day at Lago Gutiérrez. That lake is apparently the warmest lake in the region because it's fed by rain water and not glacial water like the other ones. I was hoping to use that opportunity and do some more serious swimming again but unfortunately there was an Iron Man that day and half of Bariloche was shut down. On the positive side, this also led to a closure of the main road in front of the hostel and it was super quiet that day. We ended up walking a few kilometres up and down that road until we found an acceptable place close to the water where we ended up just chilling in the sun.

They even put in the Dom and the coat of arms!

It was now time to leave Bariloche, but I wasn't done with the Lake District yet. A lot of other travellers warned me about the fact that Bariloche is quite busy and recommended a little town called El Bolson, which is roughly 2 hours south. I was in desperate need of something quiet and found the perfect place: A hostel called Luz Clara which was even further south in a village called El Hoyo. And this was an absolute lucky find.

The hostel is located in a rural area and after leaving the taxi I felt instantly relaxed. It was surrounded by a huge garden, with hammocks between the trees and a little creek nearby. The style was very rustic, beautifully made and it was an absolute haven compared to all other places I had stayed so far. Juan, the host, and four volunteers run the place and they're doing such a great job. One of the volunteers was a vegan chef and made some incredible meals for all the guests one night. They also set up a cozy fire every night and it was just perfect to abandon oneself to total idleness. For some reason however, I still ended up doing something every day...

There was a surprising amount of things to do in the area and I started slowly on day one with just a little 10 kilometre hike to a waterfall. It was still quite hot during the day and I ended up dozing in front of it with the cool spray from the falls breezing into my face.

Another pretty waterfall

Stretched up even further

On day two I wanted to do a kayak trip on a lake which came highly recommended by Juan. They wanted to pick me up from a road close to the hostel at 10:30am but after waiting for an hour at the end of a dusty gravel road, I decided to go back. Juan was shocked when he heard what happened and felt super guilty. So he spontaneously organised a hike to a secret lagoon with two of the volunteers which turned out to be quite adventurous. He warned me about that though:

You might be disappointed. You might even be a little mad. But it will definitely be an adventure.

I don't think he knew how correct he would be with that statement. We wanted to start at 3pm which would have given us plenty of time to get back before sunset. But Juan's new hobby didn't agree with our schedule. He bought a Jeep from 1960 a couple of weeks ago and likes to tinker with it and learn stuff about cars in his free time. For him it has the same effect as meditation and I can deeply relate to that. Unfortunately the car wouldn't start when we wanted to leave which was due to a cable that got disconnected as a result of heavy corrosion. We had to start the car manually which meant that one person had to hold the cable and make sure it touches the contact point. I thought some of the wiring in our old Nissan Patrol was dodgy but what I saw under the hood of this car was just... impressive. About 30 minutes later we were finally on the road. When we were passing the local supermarket, Juan decided to stop for some snacks. What a fatal decision. We tried to start the car manually again but Juan didn't put it in neutral so it basically jumped forward a bit with two of us leaning over into the hood. Thankfully nobody got hurt but that little jump caused a new issue. The whole electrical circuit was now interrupted, most likely a contact that became loose during our attempt to start it. I learned a thing or two when I was tinkering with the electrics on our car in Australia and I suspected that the main battery got disconnected. The wires there were dusty as fuck and heavily corroded. Juan's phone didn't have service so he had to walk a kilometre to find wifi. He called a friend of him who was a mechanic and about thirty minutes later he arrived. It turned out that I was right. He rewired one of the main cables that went into the battery and we were able to manually start the car again. It was 5:30pm by now and we decided to still do the hike.

How do we fix a car that’s twice as old as us?

Juan wasn't exactly sure where we'd have to start the hike but he was optimistic that we'd find the trail if we just follow the random forest roads that led up the mountain to the lagoon. It was super dusty again with my shoes completely disappearing in piles of dust at times. The poor people walking at the end were breathing in a lot of that dust which is why we decided to take turns. After zigzagging through the forest, we finally made it to the trail. Parts of it were overgrown and we had to take some bizarre detours but eventually we made it to the lagoon. It wasn't anything special but we were definitely the only ones and it was a good change compared to most of the other hikes I did in the past few weeks.

The lagoon

After walking through that dry and dusty terrain for more than 1.5 hours I was craving to get into the water. It turned out to be quite difficult though as it was surrounded by reed and mud. The others pulled out but I didn't want to give up. Getting in would be easy, but how would I get out again? I decided to place some branches into the mud which would hopefully act as some kind of path for me to get out. It kind of worked but I was still knee-deep in mud when I tried to go back. The water was beautiful though and it all added to the adventure. Once I was out, I constructed a little brush with a Spinifex kind of grass so that I could clean my legs. Eventually it all worked out!

Once it started to get dark we made our way back down again. We weren't sure where we would end up once we were down that mountain and we actually made it into somebody's backyard. Thankfully the people who lived there we very easy-going and pointed us in the right direction back to the car. We were able to start it without problems this time, the only minor thing that happened was a blown fuse once Juan turned on the lights. That was an easy fix though and half an hour later we were back in the hostel. What a beautiful day!

Nice sunset on the way back

Once we were back in the hostel, we also heard from Pedro - the guy who was running the kayak tours and was supposed to pick me up in the morning. It turned out that he had some logistical problems in the morning and simply forgot to pick me up... he was very, very apologetic though and I decided to give it another go the following day.

The next morning he was actually 10 minutes early and picked me up right in front of the hostel. He apologised another million times and I had the feeling that he was genuinely sorry. Plus he was driving a Hilux, how can you not forgive a Hilux owner? After picking up all the other people (we were about 12 in total) we made our way to Lago Epuyén. Pedro was happy to give me a single kayak and even removed the rudder as I prefer to keep it simple and steer my watercraft manually. After giving everyone a crash course in paddling we started our little 12 kilometre cruise.

Crystal clear water

Being on the water I immediately noticed a key difference to most other lakes I've been on. The water was extremely clear and had a beautiful deep blue colour. I assume this is due to the colder temperatures which simply doesn't allow algae to build up that much. About 4 kilometres in it was time for our first stop. We parked the kayaks on a nice beach and Pedro prepared lunch for us. He sizzled some beef on a hot plate, cut some fresh veggies and we had some delicious sandwiches. We then hiked up a little hill to a scenic lookout with a great view of the lake.

Lunch anybody?

Underwater

It was a calm start to the day

Some wildlife

I was the only non-Argentinian in our group by the way and even though everybody mostly spoke Spanish, the others really made an effort to include me in the group. Their English was really poor but with the few words they knew (plus hands and feet) we were able to actually have some good conversations.

After our excursion to the hill we got back into the kayaks and paddled another 4 kilometres to the next pretty beach with a little waterfall on the side. After recording a superhero rock jumping video it was time for some Mate and scones with homemade jam from Pedro's mum. I got another lesson on how to make Mate and I have to say that I'm damn close to buying my own Mate set. It took me a while to warm up to it but I'm definitely a fan by now. I think it's time for the dedicated Mate blog post very soon.

Look at these colours

Shower

Perfect afternoon snack

youtube

Guess what superhero I tried to be

The last 8 kilometres back to where we started were a little more challenging due to some headwind, but we all made it back safe and sound. It was another beautiful day and a refreshing change to all the dust that I encountered on all the hikes I did before in this area. Originally I was planning to do the popular Cajón del Azul hike but I think this was a better choice. Water beats soil - always.

The next day was a travel day and brought me to a town called San Martín de los Andes from where I'm writing this blog post right now. It's quite a posh place but I'm only here to relax for two days before making my way back to Chile again. The landscape is pretty much the same as in Bariloche and El Hoyo. When I started writing this post I realised that I actually didn't take any pictures of the Alpine-like architecture here in the Lake District in order to proof my point that it looks so much like South Germany. But then I thought that I'd probably just have to walk a few blocks to find some good examples and it turned out that I was right:

Cake shop

Hotel

Downtown

Pub

One more thing I'd like to briefly mention is my progress in terms of eating my way through the Argentinian cuisine. Hopefully this blog won't turn into a foodie blog. I'm not an expert when it comes to food anyway but these guys here surely know how to cook. During my time in El Calafate, I went to a place called Isabel where they served stew-like dishes, served in a cast iron skillet. This might have been the best frigging lamb I ever had. Also Alan, the chef in the hostel in Bariloche, made an Asado one day and I can confirm that the Argentinians are at least as good as the Brazilians when it comes to BBQ (sorry Will!). He also made a delicious vegan bowl for us one day and I'm very close to liking vegan food by now. For me, vegan always translated to dry and tasteless but Alan and the volunteer from the hostel in El Hoyo (forgot her name) proved me wrong.

That’s what I call a proper portion of lamb

All in all it was an interesting time here in Northern Patagonia. I don't think it's specifically worth going when you are from Europe, but if you're in the area anyway and just travelling through it's surely worth stopping because it is still beautiful. Also, when speaking to people who were from Germany and Switzerland, they still pointed out a few differences (the colour of the water, the more ranch-like environment). I'm just happy and grateful for my time here. I've met some great people, did some amazing little trips and I'm now looking forward to climbing an active volcano in Pucon before leaving Patagonia and exploring some totally different environments again up North.

#argentina #bariloche #el hoyo #san martín #lake district

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remcsluplns · 7 years

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sad, boring american summer;;

In which Remus and the rest of the Marauders go to America for a month during summer break. warnings -- swearing, that’s it tho!! word count -- 1429 __________________________________________________ The summer before seventh year, James Potter decided that they had to do something big. It was their last summer before they were completely done with school and James wanted to make the most of it. Something big, he decided, was road tripping through America for a month. He’d personally always wanted to go to the U.S., a sentiment that some of his friends did not hold themselves. His friends actually only being one friend. That friend being Remus Lupin. “Prongs, this is bloody ridiculous. America? For an entire month?” He had been lying in his bed, reading, when James had ran in from the common room, excitement clear in his voice. He was now sitting up, clearly aggravated that he was the only rational one in the room. “Well, I think it sounds fantastic, Prongs!” Peter exclaimed, hopping off his bed. “Think ‘bout it Rem! It’s our last summer before we graduate! It’ll be brilliant!” “Missin’ the real appeal, Wormtail. Think about the girls, Moony,” Sirius butted in, standing up himself, and walking toward Remus. “American girls, Moony!” He took Remus by the shoulders, shaking him almost violently. “Do you know what they say about American girls?” Remus rolled his eyes, shrugging Sirius’s hands off of him. “They’re just girls, Pads. Same as they are here,” He insisted, flopping back down on his back, eyes glued to the ceiling. Three-against-one. He didn’t have a bloody chance with these fools. Sirius simply laughed, shaking his head. “Come, Moony, and I think they’ll prove you wrong,” He’d said with finality, and Moony knew for certain that he’d lost. And so here he was now, two weeks into their American adventure, and just as miserable as he’d been when James had announced the stupid idea. They’d gone from New York City, to Philadelphia, to Boston, and now, with the full moon approaching, they found themselves in a quiet area of Maine. A small town, with plenty of forest, for the guarantee that he wouldn’t harm anyone during his transformation. The boys had arrived in the middle of the night, and had fallen asleep almost immediately. Now, in the early morning, they found themselves woken up by an incessant knocking on their small cabin’s door. James began to get up, but Remus with his full moon moodiness kicked in got there first. Still just wearing his skivvies, he snapped open the door, undereye circles evident under his eyes. “What could you possibly fucking want this early in the morning?” He’d screamed, eyes still too swollen from sleep to register the small teenage girl at the door, looking up at him with wide-eyed terror. He was promptly pulled away from the entrance, Prongs taking his place with an apologetic smile. “Christ, I’m sorry, love. My friend’s a little grumpy in the morning,” He explained, a dopey smile on his face as he looked down at whoever was at the door. Remus couldn’t see them with Prongs standing where he was. “Don’t apologize for me!” He growled, emerging again from behind his better mannered friend. He could easily look over James’s shoulder, and shame burned in his chest as he made eye contact with a wisp of a girl, likely a year younger than them. Her pretty face showed exactly what she felt; confusion, fear, and behind her lips, a bit of laughter.

“What’s funny?” Remus asked, taking a step forward, edging James away from the door. He wasn’t offended, just genuinely confused. Though, he supposed he shouldn’t be. Pretty girls usually laugh at me, he thought bitterly. She looked a bit shocked at the question, and she shook her head immediately. “Nothing!” She squeaked, her hands clasped in front of her tightly. “I know I’ve got a bad habit of laughing when I feel a bit awkward, and I know it’s awfully rude. I’m sorry!” Now he was the one feeling awkward. What was she, apart of the military? He sighed, reaching up and pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m not… you’re not… it’s fine…” He finally decided on, stepping from the door, and gesturing for her to enter. “You can come in, if you’d like.” “No, that’s fine, I was just --,” “I think it’d be easier to recover from my lack of sleep if the girl who caused this lack of sleep had a cup of coffee with me and my friends, and explained why I’m not sleeping right now,” He insisted, his voice a bit hoarse as he stepped away completely. She nodded and entered behind him, closing the door and standing awkwardly in front of it. Remus and the rest of the Marauders sat at the small wooden table in the corner of their cabin, but instead of eating breakfast, they all stared tiredly at her. What kind of grumpy teenage boy hell had she walked into? The one with the glasses, who had apologized for the angry one, was the only one with a kind expression on his face. “C’mere, love. Take a seat. Ignore these gits, they really need their beauty sleep, yeah?” She nodded, and walked cautiously over to the table. The only seat available was in between the mean one, and a small boy. She took it, eyes staring straight ahead at the boy with the glasses. There was a moment of awkward tension before the final one with the messy black hair spoke. “So, what demon urged you to knock on a person’s door at,” He picked up glasses boy’s wrist, and looked at the time. “Eight in the fuck-- ow, James! Eight in the morning.” He finally finished, rubbing the spot on his arm where glasses b-- James had hit him.

She swallowed her smile, instead opting for a more apologetic face, her hands clasped in front of her on the worn table. “I’m sorry, yeah? My father’s not the most understanding man in the world, and you lot were being rowdy last night. You woke ‘im up, so he sent me over this morning to speak politely to you guys, ‘cause he said he didn’t have it in him to do anything other than smack you all ‘side the heads. I guess we both forgot that most people don’t get up this early.” The girl spoke clearly, and she made eye contact with each of the Marauders at least once during the duration of her little speech. Well, except for Remus. She avoided his gaze like the plague, much to his disappointment. This whole ‘werewolf’ thing had managed to bite him in the ass in all areas of life, hadn’t it? James nodded, reaching across the table with a cheeky smile on his face. He clasped her little hand in his larger one, and squeezed tightly. “We forgive you, darling. And again, I apologize for the behaviors of my friends.” He leaned across the table, lifting her hand to his lips and kissing her knuckles chastely. “I’m James, by the way.” The girl smiled back at him, but she seemed more amused than interested, which, for some reason, gave Remus a burst of relief. “I’m grateful for your forgiveness, and your apology, James.” She stood, now glancing from each boy at the table. Even Remus. “We haven’t gotten off to a good start, boys, and for that, I’m sorry. I was always taught to be polite and kind, and I was neither of those things when I woke you all up. For that, I volunteer to come over tonight --” She was interrupted by Sirius’s cheeky little groan at her words, but nonetheless, she continued, “-- to make dinner for you lot. Is that alright?” Remus wanted to say no, it wasn’t alright due to the fact that tonight he’d be transforming, but Peter spoke quicker than him. “Of course it is! It's Peter, by the way!” He exclaimed, standing as well. The pretty girl smiled, and clapped her hands together. “Then it’s decided! I’ll be over at four!” She squealed, practically out the door when James got out his question. “Wait, what’s your name, love?” He called after her, standing up, and walking over to where she stood at the door. She peeked her head back in, and smiled at him. “Y/N,” She said, and she was gone, the door closed behind her, with eight hours on the clock ‘till she returned to them. Remus would be counting those minutes, he was sure.

__________________________________________________

there will be a part 2 to this, though I'm not sure when that'll be. feel free to send in any requests, as they're open!

🌿🌿

#remus lupin #remus x reader #remus lupin x reader #hp imagine #remus lupin imagine #remus x you #remus lupin x you

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chuckadams · 4 years

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The Fierce and Beautiful World: A Requiem for a Year

And now let us gather round the hearth—or whatever it is we consider a hearth in this day and age, be it a wood-stove (you lucky bums) or the soft glow of a smartphone screen—let us gather and dive into yet another of my long-winded rants and raves about the past year. For it has been a doozy. Is that the right word? Can a doozy capture both the highest of highs, as well as the lowest of lows? Is there a better word? I have already googled “best word to describe a year of ups and downs” and google cannot adequately give answers.

Because there are no answers.

Last year I wrote that there are only “arcs and circuits and feedback loops, and they are always bending and flowing. Gaining and losing. Seeking a balance, that will never be perfect or purely balanced.” 2019 was the year that proved it.

SRI LANKA NEW YEAR

On the first day of 2019 I woke up in Bucharest after a long sleep, interrupted briefly by midnight fireworks in the piazza down the street. I had just returned from a two-week trip to Sri Lanka, which, if nothing else, allowed me time to reflect and consider where I was going. I had just begun dating Ani, an Armenian-born Russian citizen, earlier that fall, and she was back home in Russia for the holidays.

One year later, I will read this, from a book gifted to me by my brother: “I will find my way into new country that beckons me to take unexpected risks, which turn out not to be risks at all, but the next step.” And I realize this was what 2019, and pretty much all of the past decade, has been about. Unexpected risks turning into next steps.

In Sri Lanka, I sat on a beach and watched a daughter excitedly frolic in the waves with her dad, and I thought, Wouldn’t that be nice, too? I took surf lessons (“I need to impress my surfing girlfriend,” I told my instructor). I sat on a flat wooden raft and was pushed across a lake by a silent boatman, while I spied elephants on the far shore with my binoculars, tuning in to the steady splashes of water against the hull. I leaned out from the open door on a jungle train as it chugged through tea fields in the highlands from Ella to Kandy to Colombo, listening to a soundtrack of indie rock music on my mp3 player.

I read, months later, about the terrorist attacks in Colombo and thought about the wonderful people I had met who would likely suffer from less income this year.

THE TROUBLE WITH ONLINE DATING

“Everything, even the weather, becomes a communication, or even a critical comment, on one’s relationship with things, phenomena, persons, etc.” I wrote that last year. It seems sad to admit, but the biggest comment about my newfound relationship with Ani came when I deleted all of my dating apps on my phone. Not days after I met her, nor even weeks. It took months. Months of internal conflict that culminated in what, for me, was a small victory for the soul.

Online dating apps have been both a blessing and a curse. On the one hand, they have allowed an introvert like me to actually have a dating life. I recall, back in 2007, when I was suddenly single after a long relationship, how difficult it was to date. I didn’t even have the Internet at my house in Eugene, Oregon; no Wi-Fi, and definitely no smartphone; I got 8 hours of screen-time per day at my job, and that was plenty for me, thank you. Dating in 2007 was like the Stone Ages compared to today, where you had to physically go out and “bump” into strangers, or just wait until strangers fell into your orbit.

I’m not really the kind of person who talks to strangers at bars (at least not in bars in my home country), so I let people drift into and out of my life like those deer who show up in your front yard, eating your clover, and then move on down the street. I was that kind of deer, too. A feral browser, moving to and fro, with no rhyme or reason.

And then, around mid-2016, voila! an endless scroll of possibilities with dating apps, whilst living in ever larger cities of Portland, and then Bucharest. But I noticed something: the “endless possibilities” became, for me, antithetical to actual committed relationships. I remember going on a few dates with women, who were, on balance, worth spending my time and energy with, but that energy was instead spent scrolling through the endless possibilities still out there. It was like I was living through some bizarro world version of my college art film, “Hunting Love.” I had become a hunter-gatherer, and yet I wanted to be a farmer. These apps had turned me into a hypocritical monster. With so much wild game at my fingertips, there really was no rational reason to switch to cultivating a sustainable life with another person. I had resigned myself to eternal bachelorhood, and I was becoming more and more okay with this.

Then I met Ani.

And isn’t this how it typically happens? Someone defies all of your expectations, catching you unaware?

With Ani, our courtship (and yes, I insist on using that old-fashioned term) developed over the course of months, not days. It was like a tree that needed to grow a few rings of thickness before it knew it was something of substance. In the past, I would have looked at the seed, imagining I saw a tree, prematurely. Often I would have planted anew before even giving it a chance to grow.

For me, the seed became a tree when we both took a weekend trip to the Black Sea coast in late January 2019, a full 2.5 months after we met. We got a deal on a room at one of the few seaside resorts still open in the dead of winter, one that had an indoor pool and a sauna. That evening, before dinner, we took a stroll along a desolate stretch of beach. It was dusky, cold, and a light rain fell, coating us in those fine white dots of spray. I remember thinking, “There are only so many people on this Earth who would actually enjoy what we are doing right now. I mean, it stinks like dying fish on this beach, and it’s bloody cold, and there is nobody else around here except us.” But we got closer, for warmth, and it was obvious I was not asking too much of her to be here with me.

Later, in the spring, we took a weekend road trip to the far western part of Romania to scout a location for a school trip. Then, for a week we road-tripped through Bulgaria, with the highlight being some wild camping on a beach near the border with Turkey. Again, I came back from these trips pinching myself.

ADDRESSING THE ISSUE OF CHILDREN IN WAR ZONES

In the midst of all this, I continued to teach at the American International School of Bucharest, surrounded by intrepid and exasperating students, as well as adventurous colleagues.

For example, there was that wonderful week in February spent in Sweden with colleagues. We walked around Stockholm, then spent a solid few days cross-country skiing and soaking in hot tubs in Funasdalen, in the central-west mountains near the border with Norway. Mmmhmmmm, just what was needed in the middle of winter.

I also took on a new challenge this year, namely that I coached the middle school’s Model United Nations (MUN) for the winter season. We had a group of 8 students, all quirky in their own ways, who got practice in debating, resolution writing, and the fine art of lobbying. I’ll admit that I probably would not have been interested in MUN when I was a middle schooler, nor as a high schooler. It does seem to favor those who like to hear themselves talk, though it certainly attracts those with a desperate need for social skills practice. However, I liked that this was a group that actually enjoyed discussing worldly topics, like the role of NGOs in developing countries, or the role that religion plays in national politics. I was most comfortable when I could just assume the Humanities teacher role and guide students to a well-written and researched resolution addressing the issue of children living in war zones. We had a local, on-campus MUN conference in March, and then traveled to a MUN conference in Budapest, Hungary. The big news I wish to share is that, for the first time in my life, I bought a suit. Apparently MUN participants must dress the part, and their coaches must follow suit, literally. So there’s that. A small but significant change. Ka-ching.

THE POETRY OF BONFIRES

After MUN season wrapped up in early April, I got ready to lead a group of 7th and 8th graders on a trip to Port Cetate, in the far southwestern part of Romania, for a week-long creative writing and photography retreat. At my school, the 7th through 10th graders go on week-long trip in mid-May tailored to their interests. The trips ran the gamut from creative pursuits (like writing and photography), to outdoor pursuits (like rock-climbing, mountain biking, or scuba diving), to service-learning pursuits. On the trip I led, I got to teach kids about writing short, descriptive vignettes, as well as how to take photos manually using a DSL film camera (using my old Canon AE-1). It blew their minds that they would have to wait 2-4 weeks to see the fruits of their photography, most of which turned out slightly out of focus. Above all, I won’t forget the last day we had with the students, when we had a bonfire on the banks of the Danube River, looking across to Bulgaria. We had an impromptu dance party, which is probably the most memorable poetry these kids will remember a few years from now.

When we returned from this trip, I headed straight to the airport, to fly to Portugal to meet Ani in Sagres, where we spent two days surfing, eating amazing meals, swinging in hammocks, and hanging with her surf camp friends. We spent one sunset overlooking what can only be described as “the end of the world.” And others describe it this way, too. Sagres is the extreme southwestern point of the European continent. (It is at this spot that we hope to perform a small but special ceremony in June 2020.) Later, we drove north to spend a day in Lisbon, a wonderful city well worth the time and energy spent exploring its nooks and crannies.

SUMMER OF HANG TIME

After that, time moved swiftly. The school year ended, and my summer break began. This summer I would not be charting something so adventurous as the previous summer’s month-long bike tour of the Balkans. No, this summer the theme was Hang Out with Friends and Family, and Renew Relationships. I think this summer epitomized what I wrote last year about optima:

“Optima means there is no single variable which should be maximized over any other single variable: period. This is the practice of stability, of optimization; an oscillation of gain and loss; the practice of diversity; the spirit of community.”

What this meant, in practical terms, is that my legs and lungs probably got less exercise this summer, but I was exercising something else, perhaps less physical, but no less important.

I spent quality time with friends and former professors in Laramie, Wyoming; a week with my brother Jonah and family in Colorado; a road trip across Hwy 50, the “loneliest road,” from Utah to Oregon, with my brother Phil; a family reunion in Astoria with my niece, Skye, and her fiancé, driving in from San Diego, as well as my sister, Elisha, and her boyfriend, Joe, flying in from Chicago, essentially to celebrate my return from abroad, as well as my niece’s recent engagement.

At first I anticipated this reunion with trepidation, as Elisha has a knack for returning to Astoria with hurricane force winds, knocking down everyone in her path of verbal volleys, usually snarky but occasionally biting. That being said, I hadn’t seen her in over a decade, for a variety of reasons, and I realized, after she arrived, in full hurricane mode, and saw her interactions with everyone, that I missed her. Her boyfriend, Joe, was sporting a mohawk and pounding down the local craft beers I was offering. Uh-oh, I thought. Maybe I should have mentioned these were 6% ABU? Somehow we all made it up to the Astoria Column for the sunset.

I remember waking up the next morning and seeing that nobody was taking action to make anything special for breakfast. Such lazy bums, I thought. Then I remembered that I was an adult now...it only took me 36 years to figure that out...and that if I wanted pancakes for breakfast, I had to make them myself. So I got out all the ingredients and I started churning out what we call “big pancakes” in my house, and which are called Swedish pancakes, or French crepes, elsewhere. Sure, there were arguments about whether my dad’s cherry jam would or would not cause food poisoning...arguments over the absurdity of my brother running out and buying three large jars of high fructose corn syrup jelly…but those arguments came from the parents. I remember that Elisha and Joe were grateful for my sweat over the stovetop.

This, I choose to remember.

RECONNECTIONS

Later, once my extended family came and went, I focused on hanging with my parents, and spending time with friends in Astoria and Portland. On this trip alone, I met at least nine brand new humans under the age of two, such is the state of mid-30s life. At some point, I remember briefly thinking, “I miss the freedom of my bike tour of the previous summer, where every day I packed up my panniers and cast off on another journey to another new town.” Then I remember thinking, “Well, but this is nice. To reconnect and restore relationships...moreover, to have the blessing of time off in the summer months to do such a thing, is priceless. There will always be time for adventures; there is not always time to just hang out, however brief, and catch up on life.”

Indeed, I even got to spend a few hours with Ngaoi, a friend I met back when I was volunteering on a farm in New Zealand in 2010. She was the best friend of our hosts, and would come over often to hang out and help us in the hydroponic lettuce greenhouses. My ex-girlfriend, Rachel, and I secretly wanted to adopt her as our daughter (we were in our late 20s; she was in her late teens). Zoom ahead a decade, and she was visiting her current boyfriend, an American she met in New Zealand, but who happened to live in Beaverton, Oregon. They both made a weekend trip to Astoria, and I introduced them to the Blue Scorcher’s coffee and we browsed a “flea market” at a local church.

The sun races around the galaxy; the Earth sprints to keep up with it in gravitational orbits; and we always make our returns back to our origins to begin again.

THE ORIGIN OF LOVE

When I flew back to Romania, Ani had moved into my apartment in downtown Bucharest. We had planned on it before I left, but still it was a bit of a shock to see all her belongings in place, the decor slightly personalized to her likings. I didn’t mind it at all. Moreover, it was an important milestone, a difference that made a difference.

When you are 22, you have your whole life ahead of you, and, even if you’re certain about a thing, can take your time to get around to ascertaining it. Well, when you’re 36, and you are certain about a thing, there is no practical use in waiting to ascertaining it. You take hold of it and don’t let it go.

Thus, by mid-October, while we Ani and I were on vacation in Greece, on the island of Crete, on a stretch of beach we had all to ourselves, as the sun hung low on the horizon, I proposed.

The engagement ring has the words “origo amare” engraved on the inside of the band, an allusion to our first meeting at a coffee shop named Origo. The Latin phrase means, “The origin of love.” It seems ironic, I know, that the origin of love could be instigated by a few messages sent back and forth on Internations, a social media site for expatriates, followed by a meeting for coffee. There was no love at first sight. In fact, it took a month before we exchanged our first kiss. But every slow burn needs its spark.

Our spark came when I asked if Ani would show me how to use her longboard, which she had in the trunk of her car parked a block away. As we walked to the concrete slab, she pushed me from behind to see which foot was more dominant. It was just a test, but later, she told me, “You felt so warm.” Perhaps the body knows things before the brain does. Life is a mystery, and I want to hold onto that mystery, because there is no reason we should have met each other, growing up on opposite sides of the world, to meet under such particular circumstances. That spark led to another meeting, and then another...

So it goes.

One year later we were engaged. Unlike most other times in my life, there is no inner conflict, no hesitation. Sure, there are “What if…?” lines of inquiry, as per usual. But the one line of inquiry that sets me straight is the one that goes, “What if I had never met Ani?” It sets me straight because I know the answer to that one: I would be writing this end-of-year review as per usual, likely on a tropical beach somewhere, likely alone, and happy enough, because I am perfectly fine enjoying my own company (and the company of books), and I would be describing some incredible moments from the past year.

But I would not be describing what I suppose I’m describing now: a change in trajectory, a revolution of priorities. Without Ani I would have been happy; with Ani I know I will be happier.

OF LOGISTICS AND A DOG BITE

So the year beat on. In November, I brought my cross country team to the championships in Kiev, Ukraine, and got bit by an unclaimed dog in the middle of the coaches race. Spent my November getting injections of rabies vaccine by a no-nonsense nurse at the Anti-Rabic Clinic here in the city.

We enjoyed a three-day weekend at the end of November in Milan, Italy, visiting with an old friend and taking engagement photos with an iPhone X. I celebrated my 37th birthday on a rare sunny day in Milan, eating turkey at a belated Thanksgiving Day feast.

Throughout the fall, Ani and I spent many an evening planning the logistics of when and where we would get married in Romania (in front of the legal authorities) and in Sagres, Portugal (in front of family), as well as the insane amount of bureaucratic paperwork needed to fulfill the requirements here in Romania.

Ani and I have no plans to return to the United States to “settle down.” We met as global citizens of the world, and we intend to stay that way, at least for the time being. As of today, I have spent a little over 5 years of my adult life living abroad, in places all over the world. I feel at home in the world now, and building a cross-cultural, multi-lingual family seems to be my ultimate fate, happily.

THE REBALANCING OF HIGH & LOW

Well, so much for the highs. Sometime in September, I thought, “I’ve been lucky so far, because I have only lost my grandparents, and that was long ago. But...it’s only a matter of time.” And that time came in early October, with the passing of my Uncle Remi. He was 76 years old. My parents flew to Chicago to attend his funeral, as well as take care of his final arrangements. He was living in his family home at the time, and now that house, which had been in my family’s possession for over 70 years, will be up for sale.

Then, on the evening of December 7th, I got a call from my brother. I was in the middle of my school’s holiday party, at the Marriott Hotel, when he told me our sister had passed away. She was 47 years old. At one point, he mentioned that we knew this moment would come eventually, and I knew what he meant. In 2011 she had nearly died as a result of a critical MRSA infection. At that time I was in a far remote corner of Ethiopia, and the power and Internet was cut. My family was rushing to the hospital in Chicago, and I was rushing to catch a bus to somewhere with a phone signal. She miraculously recovered from that scary episode, and so I like to think that she was blessed with eight more years of life. Eight more years to make memories with her daughter, and to see her daughter get married on a beach in Hawaii this past October, so happy and joyful.

After the news, I sucked it in as best as I could and went to work for three more days. Some colleagues wondered why I was at work. Where else would I be, I thought, on the couch moping? No, it was better to see the faces of my students, to let them know what happened, so they saw me as a frail human. And they were so kind about it. About seven students from my 6th grade English class even surprised me with kind notes attached to my door, reminding me of the spirit of giving and generosity in our darkest month of December.

I flew to Chicago on a Thursday, arriving late, hosted by my cousin Jeremy. Despite the circumstances, it was satisfying to catch up with some of my family still living in Chicago, such as my cousins Jeremy, Harmony, Mike, and uncles Steve, Ben, and John, and aunts Linda, Pam, and Kathy. As well, meeting my cousins’ tiny children for the first time was a diamond in the rough.

The night before the funeral, my brother Jonah, his wife LuAnne, and my brother Phil, all of whom just arrived by air, picked me up from my cousin’s house. We congregated at the Hampton Inn, in Lisle, Illinois, where several folks were staying for the weekend, to put together three large photo-collages that would be displayed at the funeral. Elisha’s step-sister, Melissa, had collected arts and crafts supplies from the daycare she runs, and we all got to work, including my niece Skye and her husband, David. Together, we all did our best to piece together Elisha’s life from images collected from several sources across the ages. It was hard not to dwell too long on this treasure trove of images, some of which we had never seen until now, and before too long it was nearly midnight.

What is there to say about funerals? Are they really for the deceased? Or are they for the living?

As family and friends came together at the funeral home for a two-hour moment in time, we paid our respects to Elisha, and we paid our respects to each other. I met people for the first time, and I reunited with people I had only met once, long ago. The photo-collages were beautiful, but it was the photo album that my Uncle Steve brought—ones that held Elisha’s baby photos, when she ran and frolicked on the farms and coastal beaches of Oregon—that choked me up the most.

Every time I got near my sister’s urn I choked back tears. Stupid as it sounds, because I didn’t have any tissue on hand, I stifled the tears. But when the funeral parlor director came out to ask everyone to take a seat, or take a knee, while he said a prayer, I found some tissues, and the tears burst forth.

Then he asked everyone except the immediate family to walk past the urn and pay their final respects. I did not, could not, look up. More tears.

Then he asked the immediate family to come forward. We made a half-circle in front of the urn, in all its rainbow-hued splendor, reflecting my sister’s colorful character, sitting there amidst the expensive floral arrangement paid for by my Uncle Steve (“For these types of things you call the professionals”). More tears from me—and the funeral director told what amounted to an anecdote about his own mother’s passing as a way to lighten the mood. Later, Jonah would ask, “You think he tells the same story at every funeral?”

He probably does tell the same story. Because it’s always the same story. Loss is loss. Grief is grief. He can tell us all about how it will only be “a little while—hopefully not too soon! (haha)” before we see our loved one again in the metaphysical afterlife, but, believers or non-believers, it does not take away the pain of the present moment.

Even so, the funeral was over, and it was time to pack up the cars full of flowers and photo albums and an urn, and head over to Q’s for the reception, where the menu was Italian-American to the max, including what my vegetarian brother described, accurately, as a “meat salad.”

The remainder of the days in Chicago were for hanging out. Being together. One-by-one, people flew home, and I stayed until Tuesday so that this “hanging out” would not be rushed. My cousin Jeremy took Friday and Monday off work, as far as I could tell, just to hang out with me. In many ways, this trip was an extension of my summer trip back to the U.S. No matter how far I fling myself out in the world, the Great Magnet always reels me in, back to Chicago, back to Oregon, back to the Rocky Mountain West, back to the Pacific Ocean, back to Doug fir trees, sand dunes, and the coastal river valleys, where campfire smoke always drifts downwind, and where an ageless youth laughs out loud, in a cackle, at the glee and sheer terror of catching a crawdad.

CHRISTMAS SPIRIT

The final half of December I spent with Ani as we celebrated the Christmas spirit at three locations throughout Transylvania, in Romania, each place unique. The first place, Sinaia, is known for its mountain peaks on all sides. We intended to go skiing, but the snow report stunk, so we went hiking instead. Then we moved on to Cund, a small, quiet village in what is known as the Saxon part of Romania, a place with a strong German heritage, and fortified churches. We sat by a roasting wood-stove, watched movies, and went on a meandering ridge-line hike in the mist. Finally we moved on to Sibiu, a small city that resembles a storybook German village than anything you typically find in Romania. They have one of the largest Christmas Markets in Eastern Europe, and it is exquisitely framed by a picture-postcard square, with buildings that have droopy eyelid windows in the roof, so it looks like you are being watched.

And, who knows, maybe we are being watched over.

There is much to be thankful for in the year 2019. For me, a solid job I am passionate about, a fiancée who sticks by my side through thick and thin, and the good health to still run my legs through the forest at a fast speed, rabid dogs notwithstanding.

There is so much to look forward to in 2020, up to and including:

In February, travel to Ethiopia, with a group of five other colleagues

In March, Ani’s cousin’s wedding, in Togliatti, Russia

In April, travel to Armenia, to visit my newly adopted motherland

In June, our family wedding in Sagres, Portugal

In July, a possible bike tour :))

I welcome this new decade, like a new chapter, with open arms.

#2020 #letter #2019 #reflection on a year #requiem #longread

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