#I remember the last time that happened was when I was watching derry girls | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

aweecrush · 3 years ago

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FOUR MONTHS, or what happens between President Clinton's visit to Derry on November 30th, 1995 and Erin and Orla's isolation tape recorded on March 30th, 1996.

Part 1 here

January 8th, 1996

Of course she’d get sick the very first school day of the year. Of course.

Not that she would have particularly minded in other circumstances: she’s not an eejit, she won't turn away a couple of days of doing nothing and everyone fussing over her when it comes her way. Plus, Granda always makes his special hot chocolate when one of them is sick, and Christ if that isn’t the best thing she ever tasted.

But the thing is, she’s been sick sick, headaches and nausea and sore throat and all, and it’s been days, and she’s - well, sick of it. It doesn’t help that Anna’s been sick as well, which means that not only is no one available to bring special attention to her through the whole ordeal, but Mammy’s unhinged like - for real. So far, her shouts have done nothing to improve Erin’s state.

The worst of it has passed now, but she still feels kind of hazy and needs to sleep every two hours, so she’s not allowed to go back to school just yet. Again, that wouldn’t have particularly broken her heart, but teachers are always out of their minds at the beginning of the new year, full of motivation and good resolutions, and this time around, with the mock exams in addition to that? Clare must be rubbing out on her, because the thought of this, and the idea of having so much to catch up on when she gets back stresses her out.

Plus, she misses the girls. At the exception of Orla, nobody’s been allowed past the door yet.

1996 is off to such a good start.

The day has been mostly quiet: Granda spent an hour criticizing Da’s drive skills, but Anna’s been crying a little less, and Erin has managed a good three hours downstairs with everyone before the headache starts. She’s been alternating between reading her Christmas gift and nodding off ever since.

It’s well into the afternoon when someone knocks at her bedroom door.

“What are you doing here?” is the first thing that comes out of her mouth as James pops his head in, all smiles and wild curls.

She’s so surprised, her stomach does a somersault inside.

“Well, hello to you too, Erin - I see bedrest has done wonders for your manners,” and she chuckles with him as he easily catches the pillow she throws at him.

“How did you get in here? I thought Mammy was watching the door like a prison warden.”

“She did kick us out in less than five words and five seconds both times we tried last week,” he confesses, his face a mix of amusement and sorry about that. “So, I tried a different approach today.”

She raises a curious eyebrow.

“James Maguire, did ye finally find a way to bribe my Ma? Because a lot of people would pay for this secret - the inhabitants of this house very much included.” He laughs, and Erin realizes that she’s missed that sound.

“Not yet, no. But I did mention that you needed your homework if you didn’t want to get behind.”

“But Orla’s been bringing it to me.”

His face twists a little in embarrassment. “Yes, that’s what your mum said.” Then, something like pride twinkles in his eyes. ”So, I told her we really needed to start our homework sessions, because the teachers already gave us so much to do, and you know, exams are coming - real soon, too.”

“Our - what?”

He smirks. “Come on Erin, you remember: the sessions you and I said we’d start this year - you helping me with my English, me with your math?”

Shaking her head at the cheeky attitude that’s starting to radiate through his every pore, Erin tries and fails to contain her smile.“I can’t believe Mammy bought that.”

“Of course she did - I’m an excellent liar.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Yeah, well, a good enough one. Although I did tell her that you weren’t contagious anymore at this point - which is true, I looked it up - so I think that helped, too. Also I think her show had started, so I’m pretty sure she would have agreed to anything to stop me from talking and go back to the TV.”

Dopey grin very much still on, James takes off his jacket, and throws himself next to her on the bed. “Alright - you’ll never guess what Jenny did this morning.”

January 14th, 1996

To her right, Clare’s great uncle’s loud snores rise again, each one even more impressive than the other. Not that she can blame him, really: Christ but that movie is bad. She’s not even sure she gets it. Well, at least she hopes she doesn’t, because otherwise, that means that this man just married his own sister, which really -

“Damn, that movie really is shit, isn’t it?”

She rolls her head to see James’ standing in the doorway, eyes focused on the TV and corridor’s lights shedding pretty shadows on his face. When his eyes meet hers, he chuckles, then gestures towards her TV partner.

“Your new friend seems to be enjoying it, though.” She snorts.

“He was way smarter than me on that one - there’s things I won’t be able to unsee. Ever,” and that earns her another chuckle.

He keeps his eyes on hers a little after, and Erin just looks back at the screen, trying her best to swallow the lump coming back in her throat, and focus on the God awful story instead.

It’s not that easy, but she keeps trying anyway.

After a moment, she feels more than sees him close the distance and sit down next to her on the floor, back against the sofa. He copies her and lets his head fall back on the cushion, and she can feel his thigh pressed up against hers.

It feels better, then. A little less…

Just less.

He doesn’t say anything, not for a long while. It’s only after they watch the fire destroy the whole family mansion in an unexpected and excruciating twist that she eventually speaks.

“It’s okay James - you can go back to the party, you don’t have to sit with me.” She wants him to, though. He’s warm - he’s always so warm. “I’m fine.”

Again, Erin feels more than sees him shrug. “I want to. I mean, for one, I can’t possibly miss the end of this masterpiece,” he points at the TV, and she smiles. There’s a little pause before he finishes, his tone a little different. “Plus, she was really pissing me off too, actually, so please don’t make me go back there.” She chuckles a little, even though it hurts again.

A couple of minutes pass, and Erin tries her best to focus on the images in front of her. This time, he’s the one who breaks the silence. “She was really out of line, you know - Clare’s still telling her off, actually.”

She knows he’s being nice, but she really wishes he’d stop. She can feel her bottom lip shaking again, and she just - she just wants to watch this stupid movie, and forget the whole thing. Forget everything, really - she just wants some quiet.

When she feels the slightest brush of his hand against hers, she doesn’t know if she’s more mad at him for staying and seeing her like that, or relieved that he won’t leave her alone. Not for the first time that night, tears start rolling down her cheeks.

Feck.

“She was wrong, Erin - don’t listen to her.” She snorts, drying her face with the arm that’s not touching his. “She was.” He sounds really mad now. James’ doesn’t get mad, not like this.

Finally turning her head to look back at him, she finds his green, dark eyes already looking at her.

He was the one that first told Michelle to shut it. She’d told him off, of course, but he’d insisted, and Clare had backed him up. It had started calmly enough, though.

Nothing had even started, in fact - not really. It was just another night of studying at her house during which Michelle, inevitably bored, inevitably started telling them about that new fella she was seeing. Of course, it had gotten really graphic, really fast, Orla’s eyebrows furrowing even further with each word as Clare started to look green. At one point, Erin eventually told her to cut it out.

The shift of Michelle’s attention from her story to her personal case hadn’t been a welcomed one.

“I’m serious, Erin - you’ve got to get on with it,” she’d said. “It’s the new year: make that your number one resolution or something, because we’re dangerously approaching tragedy at this point.”

She didn’t know why it didn’t end there like it usually did, but it didn’t: she’d kept going on and all night long, and then again on the bus Friday morning, relentless about the fact that it was damn time Erin got herself a lad, or even a random fella to at least snog, because it was just inacceptable that at her age, she still didn’t have any move - or the slightest experience whatsoever, as she so gently put it.

(Ach, as if she didn’t already know that. As if she wasn’t aware of how pathetic she looked, most likely to all of Derry - as if that wasn’t exactly what had relentlessly run through her mind as she waited for John Paul to show up, all dolled up in that stupid dress.

No boy had even looked at her.)

“For the love of Christ, leave her alone, Michelle!,” James had all but growled this morning as his cousin kept going.

“Yes - and Erin, don’t listen to her. Why are you even teasing her and not us, anyway? I’ve never had a kiss or a date - neither did Orla.”

“Yes, but Orla’s Orla - ”

“Do ye think birds sleep?”

“- and you’re a lesbian, Clare: much more complicated for you. She, however, has no excuse.”

Erin had left the room and headed to the bathroom then, trying to convince herself that Michelle’s words didn’t bug her this much. That they didn’t hit right where it hurt, and that she didn’t feel like shite.

She does.

And now here she is, watching TV with a sleeping seventy year-old man on a Saturday instead of knacking some drinks and enjoying Clare’s family party as they’d planned, feeling like her tears might fall at any moment, the last of Michelle’s jabs delivered an hour ago a little too hurtful to pretend like everything’s okay.

“Hey.”

His voice brings her back to reality, and she looks back at him and the small, gentle smile he has on his face. “Forget it, okay? You’re great, Erin. Any boy would be lucky to have you.”

She scoffs. “Yeah, well, as Michelle so pertinently pointed out, they’re not exactly lining up, are they.”

“You mean in our all girl Catholic school?”

She gives him what’s meant to be a half amused, half reprimanding look at that, but he’s not laughing. Quite the contrary, actually.

“I mean it, Erin. I don’t know when it will happen, if it’ll be here, or in college, but - I do know that you’ll find someone that you actually like soon, someone who actually realizes what he has instead of pricks like David Donnelly and John Paul.”

It’s so strange, seeing him this worked up. But his face softens then, and somehow, it helps the knots in her stomach unfold a little.

He bumps her shoulder a little, and she answers his smile. “And until then, you shouldn’t rush into kissing or dating the first fella who comes around just because my brainless cousin has decided there’s a deadline for stuff like that - believe me.”

“Regretting Katya then?”

As predicted, he groans with a roll of his eyes dramatic enough to put her to shame, and despite the tears still in her eyes, Erin laughs.

“Every chance you get, huh? Well, believe it or not, Katya was actually not my first kiss.” She - Oh.

He grins. “Yeah.” Then, his wee face is back to soft again, and he hesitates a little before meeting her eyes again. When he does, his are laughing, and something else she can’t quite put her finger on. “I’m glad you stopped me that night though. You were right.”

“About the fact that she was mental?”

He shakes his head, amused, and his curls go all bouncy. “No, about the fact that it’s better to wait - do it with someone you care about. I’m glad I did.”

Aye. Well, she’s glad to - Katya really was mental.

Her tummy feels a bit weird, but then James’ getting up and extending his hand to help her do the same.

“Come on: my aunt and uncle aren’t home tonight, let’s go watch a real movie.”

“What about the girls?”

“Well, Orla’s very busy enjoying the chocolate fountain yet again, Michelle is getting drunk and flirting with Clare’s second cousin, and Clare herself is actually talking to her very interested looking neighbor.”

Erin grins. “Really?”

“Oh yeah. Don’t worry, they won’t miss us.”

And so she wraps her fingers around his, and, grabbing their jackets on their way, Erin follows him out.

They’re barely out the door and still laughing at the way a very inebriated Mrs Devlin nearly fell on them when a voice raises behind them on the street.

“James, is that you?”

They both turn to see a girl about their age walk towards them, a box in her hand and her grinning face illuminated by the outside lights of the houses.

She’s pretty - really pretty.

“Oh my God, it is you!”

Erin turns to him just in time to see recognition materialize on his face. “Emily! Right, of course - what the hell are you doing here?”

They talk for a couple of minutes, both surprised at what Erin admits to be a pretty crazy coincidence. When they part, Emily’s nice smile still glowing, James quickly explains a bit more when he knows her from (school, kind of) - and then, inevitably and passionately starts listing their film options for the night.

Aye, but that boy loves his movies.

January 18th, 1996

They get detention again.

Of course, her Ma blows it all out of proportion and makes it into a big thing, when really, it isn’t their fault. Well, not completely, anyway. As a consequence, her and Orla see their chores multiply by two for a month, but at least they don’t get their TV privileges revoked like Michelle and James. Clare’s banned from hanging out with them for two weeks all together.

Other than that, though, things are good. Jenny has a new fringe and it looks awful, which doesn’t waste anything. Even her grades are going up, which she doesn’t see coming - not that fast, anyway. James’ a great teacher though - much, much better than Sister Philips (when he explains it, math actually makes sense, which is really new to her). He’s been helping her with physics, too, and if he wasn’t Ma’s favorite before (he definitely was), that would have done the trick.

“Is the wee English fella not having tea with us tonight?” Granda asks as Erin pulls up her chair and sits.

“He couldn’t make it for tutoring tonight Granda. He’ll be coming tomorrow instead - he asked if that was okay.”

“Of course it is: you know he’s welcome any day, love.”

“Aye, he’s a good kid so he is.” Erin smiles. She likes that they all like him so much.

As she takes the potatoes from Orla, she feels a bit weird about him not being here, too. It really is nice, having him over.

Before she can linger on that thought though, her Da asks about that new song she likes, and Erin starts rambling about it with an excited smile despite the roll of her Ma’s eyes at the other side of the table.

January 24th, 1996

“Is that girl trying to ride James?”

They all turn around in one perfect, swift motion that could not have been more coordinated if they’d tried.

The pub is packed, and they have to kind of twist and raise up on their chairs and bench to see where Michelle just pointed with her beer, but sure enough, leaning against the bar, James’ laughing at something a very close, very pretty girl has apparently just said to him.

Next to Michelle, Orla tilts her head to the side. “Does James have a new friend now?”, and his cousin snickers.

“Given the way she’s pointing her tits at him Orla, I don’t think it’s her friend she wants to be.”

Erin feels like a stone drops in her stomach.

“Who is that?” Clare frowns as they all sit back. “She looks familiar.”

“Isn’t it Cilian’s sister?”

“Do ye think so?"

“Aye, I’m fairly certain it’s her, yeah. Feck it but dicko’s really on a strike these days, isn’t he,” she chuckles, downing another gulp of her beer.

“What do you mean?” The alcohol and heat make Erin’s voice a little shakier than she would have liked, but nobody seems to notice.

“Didn’t I tell you yet? Little Jamesie’s all grown up now: he got a dirty call a couple of days ago.”

He -

“What?”

It’s a good thing the pub’s so loud, or Clare’s high pitched voice would certainly have turned all heads to their tables. Not that it’s unjustified, really.

“Well, it wasn’t actually a call, since we don’t have a phone anymore and all that. And it wasn’t dirty either I suppose - but that girl definitely wants to ride him as well.”

“What happened?”

As soon as she asks the question though, Erin’s not so sure she wants the answer anymore. Michelle’s enthusiasm doesn’t leave her any time to dwell on it though - not on that, or on the way her tummy’s twisting in a sort of a painful way.

God but she had too much to drink.

Much more resistant than her, Michelle takes another sip of her beer, and smirks. “Apparently, it was a girl he knows from England that’s going to live here now I suppose - he bumped into her at your Granny’s party Clare actually. Aye Erin, you left with him that night - you saw her, right?”

Of course. The pretty girl with a nice smile.

“Um - yeah.”

“Well, as you’ve seen, and I’m shocked to even say it really, but - massive, massive ride. Anyway, that girl comes knocking at the door, and she asks for James and starts about how she asked around for his address because how crazy is it that they’re both here now, and she doesn’t have many friends yet, and she’d love to hang out with him.”

“Well, that’s charming: knocking at his door to tell him she doesn’t have anyone else to hang out with so she might as well hang out with him.” Her cheeks feel a little hot now. She’s - mad, she realizes.

But really, is that any way to talk to a fella, let alone a sweet one like him?

Michelle just waves her off, apparently not offended at all on her cousin’s behalf. “Don’t you worry about that Erin, she wants to see him alright. I’m telling you, I watched the whole thing from the kitchen, and all the signs were there: the hair flips, the eyes, the laughing - oh, and yeah, the grabbing of the arm too.”

As she says that, her eyes stare past their heads and behind them and indeed, they turn to see Cilian’s sister's hand on his forearm - and then, running up his shoulder.

“Well, I hope it works out,” Clare pipes up enthusiastically, cheeks bright pink from the alcohol and heat. “James deserves to have someone.”

“He has us.”

“You know what I mean, Erin - a girlfriend. Plus, I think it’s all quite romantic actually - the kind of meetings that make for a really nice story.”

Erin rolls her eyes. “We’re in a sweaty pub, Clare - it’s hardly romantic.”

“No, I meant the other girl - the one from England? I just think it’s lovely, finding each other again like that against all odds, far from home - kind of like destiny.”

Her burp kind of takes all the wonderful out of the picture she’s trying to paint, but it doesn't seem to bother her. “That’s definitely a meet cute. You know, the cute way the boy meets the girl in the movies?”

“Aye but it is yeah. I vote for that girl too then,” Orla chimes in.

“Well, her or that one, in either case, it’s impressive. I’m actually proud of the wee fecker - good for him. Although I am still struggling to understand it, if I’m honest. I mean, has the prick turned into a ride or something? What’s with all the attention all of the sudden?”

Again, they all turn towards the bar, Clare spilling her beer all over Erin’s lap as she tries to sip and analyze their friend from afar, head tilted to the side. “I don’t know…”

In fairness, he has.

He’d always had pretty eyes, and a beautiful smile, and then he got that haircut that made his curls even more enticing. He'd grown into his body, too, his shoulders broader, his frame just a little bit taller. The roundness of the boy has all but completely disappeared from his face now, leaving his jaw sharper, turning him into…well, into a proper lad, really.

He is a ride.

Do they really not see that?

Before any of them can argue one way or the other though, the object of their conversation spots them, eyes confused then dangerous, and they all swing back on their chairs, pretending and falling that they’d not been full-on stalking him.

Well. Most of them.

“Way to go, dicko,” Michelle all but yells, one thumb and one beer up.”Didn’t think you had it in ye!”

January 30th, 1996

It hits her on Orla's birthday.

Well, at the end of Orla’s birthday sleepover, to be precise. She doesn't know how she doesn't see it coming, but - she really doesn't.

It’s a school day, so to celebrate, their Mas at least authorize all of them to stay over at Erin’s with no bedtime (“If I hear anything about one of yous dozing off in school tomorrow, help me Jesus wains, there’ll be tears.”). It's a nice day, really: Orla has the time of her life, running all over school with her birthday girl crown on her head, and when they get home, she zooms in the small fountain of chocolate that Mammy has prepared for the occasion. Dinner is nice as well, all of them squeezed at their small table that Erin realizes is currently hosting all the people that she loves most in this world. Of course, when Michelle asks her why she’s smiling like an idiot, she can’t say - but it’s nice.

There’s the cake, the opening (ripping, really) of the gifts and then, true to their words, all the adults leave them be. In terms of taking full advantage of that special “all on their own, all night” treat though? They could have probably done better.

Much, much better.

When she wakes up, it takes Erin a minute to understand where she is. The TV is still on, the only other light coming from the hall, making it a little difficult to see at first.

It’s barely an embarrassing twelve thirty, and if the long ended credits on the screen are any indication, they’ve been snoring for at least one hour, exhausted by their day of school, the one hour long, surprisingly intense aerobics session the birthday girl insisted they do, and the tons of delicious food that had probably been the final nail in their coffins.

Sometimes, she thinks that maybe those mouths at school aren’t that wrong, when they say their band is far from being the coolest.

It was a fun night, though, and Orla was happy. That’s what matters.

Michelle’s still on Granda’s chair, legs on one side and open mouth on the other in a position that her back will surely regret in the morning. Orla’s spread like a starfish on the carpet, wrapping paper still in one hand. Clare’s on a ball at the other end of the couch, legs folded into herself. Erin’s at the other end, and, initially seated between both of them, James is now completely leaning against her, one arm around her waist and his head on her shoulder.

He looks so peaceful, when he sleeps, that slight concern mixed with doubt he always wears on his face completely gone. Beautiful, really. His lips are slightly parted, and a couple of curls fall on his forehead. Erin feels the sudden urge to brush them away, so she does.

Slowly lifting the hand that’s been resting on his arm not to wake him, she tries to move one with her finger. Smiles sleepily when it immediately drops back where it was. She remembers being so pissed at the restaurant that day, when Katya kept threading her fingers in his curls, her whole body turned towards him. She can’t really blame the girl though: they’re really, really soft.

There’s warmth in her chest, so much so that she feels like her heart is melting a little, and in her stomach, it feels like the thing that’s been twisting more and more lately wakes again. In a nice way, through. A real nice way.

Clare suddenly moves in her sleep, grumbling something she can’t quite make out, effectively sending her foot in James’ back. An annoyed frown creases his features for a second, and then he’s moving even closer to her, his face all but buried in her neck at that point.

He smells good. Comforting, safe, and just - really, really good. Her heart flutters.

And that's when it dawns on her.

Vaguely aware that she’s stopped breathing, Erin looks back at his arm around her. At him. She can feel his breath on her skin now, and it’s just -

James. Seated in the couch that has seen her grow up, the slight snore of her cousin coming from the floor, Erin realizes that she’s...falling for James.

Not falling, really. If the treacherous thing in her chest and her barely functioning mind are any indication, she’s already fallen pretty hard, pretty deep, now on the bottom of the pit looking up.

Oh. Oh.

Well.

Shite.

#derry girls #jerin #james x erin #erin x james #fanfiction

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theputterer · 2 years ago

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Good Things In 2022

“It’s that time of year again! Time to remember all the good things that happened in 2022. I’ve done this since 2017, and highly recommend doing this as a fun way to reflect (and to have something for future reference when you are feeling Down.)

feels like I literally just did this for 2021, and yet.

just under the wire...

PERSONAL

I MOVED ACROSS THE WORLD!!!!! I am now living in Dublin, Ireland. it was a move I'd been aiming to do for years, and once I received my citizenship and Irish passport, I decided to give it a shot. I've been here for nine months and am having a wonderful time.

I did more traveling this year than I think I ever have in a single calendar year.

In Ireland, I've visited several counties and lots of Dublin, including: Malahide, Howth, Dún Laoghaire, Dublin Mountains, Glasnevin Cemetery, Little Museum of Dublin, GPO Museum, National Gallery of Ireland, National Museum(s) of Ireland, EPIC Museum.

I finally went to Paris for a few days in June! Visited: Musée d'Orsay, Eiffel Tower, Sacré-Coeur, Notre Dame (closed to visitors due to renovation/restoration work but wandered around the outside and had a fabulous lunch). Bonus points for the Paris Métro, which fuckin rules.

I finally went to Italy for a long weekend in October! Got to see my folks that weekend as well. Spent time in Venice and Florence. Ate a lot of good food and gelato.

My beloved Seattle Mariners broke a 21 year drought and made it to the PLAYOFFS!!!!!!

I have been puttering away on a ROGUE ONE-FRINGE fusion/AU, ENDLESS FORMS MOST BEAUTIFUL. it has been super slow going but I am trying and I WILL finish it.

Similarly, sorta, I took a writing class! I shared a snippet of my original writing which was well-received. I got some lovely comments from my teacher which is currently sustaining me.

Anything bolded below is something I particularly enjoyed and recommend.

MOVIES

2022 movies I saw and liked:

TURNING RED

THE BATMAN

THE NORTHMAN

EVERYTHING EVERYWHERE ALL AT ONCE

TOP GUN: MAVERICK

3000 YEARS OF LONGING

NOPE

SEE HOW THEY RUN

TICKET TO PARADISE

THE WOMAN KING

ENOLA HOLMES 2

BLACK PANTHER: WAKANDA FOREVER

GLASS ONION

BONES AND ALL

THE MENU

AMBULANCE

THE UNBEARABLE WEIGHT OF MASSIVE TALENT

2021 movies I saw for the first time and liked:

ETERNALS

THE TRAGEDY OF MACBETH

FREE GUY

SPENCER

THE MATRIX RESURRECTIONS

UNCHARTED

EUPHORIA (saw season 1, did not watch season 2. lol.)

MOON KNIGHT

FRINGE

STRANGER THINGS, SEASON 4

MS MARVEL

THE SANDMAN

THE CROWN (the first few seasons and then I stopped : / )

1899

DARK (BRO........ BRO........ BEST TV SHOW OF THIS CENTURY?????)

Special acknowledgment: ANDOR. what a trip and a half to see my beloved son on screen once more. I shared some thoughts here.

BOOKS

Did not read nearly as many as I should have! (I did read some other books but they are not on this last as I did not like them).

"Strangers to Ourselves" by Rachel Aviv

"Greywaren" by Maggie Stiefvater

"Babel" by RF Kuang

"She Who Became The Sun" by Shelley Parker-Chan

"Wild Game: My Mother, Her Lover, and Me" by Adrienne Brodeur

"The Hours" by Michael Cunningham

"The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo" by Taylor Jenkins Reid

"The Burning God" by RF Kuang (incredible series but BOY will it fuck you up!!!!!!)

"The Dragon Republic" by RF Kuang

"The Poppy War" by RF Kuang

"Winter Recipes From the Collective" by Louise Gluck

"You Feel It Just Below the Ribs" by Jeffrey Cranor

"Oscar Wilde: A Life" by Matthew Sturgis

OTHER GOOD THINGS

*some of these things are Good as in well-written or well-made, but maybe not Good in topic.

Saw a couple plays at the Abbey Theatre: "Translations" by Brian Friel and "Joyce's Women" by Edna O'Brien. Quite different, both devastating.

Morocco's run at the FIFA Men's World Cup.

Joplin Sibtain, who played Brasso on ANDOR, shared a reel on Instagram of the SPOILERS riot scene on Ferrix with "Killing in the Name" dubbed over it. Incredible.

Martin Scorsese watches DERRY GIRLS.

Local Man Sees Cheese For Sale At Incredibly Low Price, Makes Executive Decision, Purchases 40 Pounds of Cheese

Is Twitter dying? Probably. Here's a thread where everyone shared their favorite tweets.

This angry little dog.

Mother losing it over her baby's laughter.

Dave Sims' calling Cal Raleigh's home run that sent the Mariners to the playoffs for the first time in 21 years.

Janan Ganesh over at the Financial Times with an incredible and scathing assessment of why Liz Truss and the Tories have never gotten Brexit "right". (Hint: they think the UK is on par with the US.)

Twitter user attempts to summarize RIVERDALE in a thread.

This TikTok of two preteen girls discovering landlines that made me LOL and also made me feel DECREPIT.

Shauna Bowers for The Irish Times with a dispatch from Electric Picnic that featured bangers of lines, including: The most sacred Electric Picnic institution of all remains untouched: the inflatable chapel, where all true love stories begin. “That’s probably the only way I’d be able to get you to marry me,” a woman says to her boyfriend. He says nothing.

Ichiro Girl returns to T-Mobile Park and throws out the first pitch to, of course, ICHIRO.

A story about how dogs are the best.

Pianist named Alex Pian covers "Time" by Hans Zimmer in Lviv, Ukraine, as air raid sirens sound. Really powerful.

Emma Baccellieri for Sports Illustrated explores a topic we've all wanted to know more about: what baseball relief pitchers are thinking when they run in from the bullpen during a bench clearing.

This video of STAR WARS characters singing a classic.... just watch it.

CONTACT is one of my favorite movies and Rachel Handler for Vulture wrote an oral history for the film's 25th anniversary.

Stephania Taladrid for The New Yorker, on the ground at an abortion clinic in Houston when Roe was overturned. Required reading.

Linda Villarosa for The New York Times, "The Long Shadow of Eugenics in America". also required reading.

Joshua Rothman for The New Yorker, "Anatomy of Error". A neurosurgeon reckons with surgeries that go wrong. Fascinating!

Rachel Pearson for The New Yorker, "Waiting at a Texas Hospital for the Children Who Never Arrive". Dispatches from a trauma center in the aftermath of the Uvalde shooting. Required reading.

Similarly, Albert Burneko for The Defector, "What It's Like Here". On being a parent in America.

Palate cleanser: Cincinnati Reds allow no hits against Pittsburgh Pirates... and still lose. lol.

Evgenia Peretz for Vanity Fair with an absolutely wild ride of a read about a Grey's Anatomy writer who.... made up an entire life.

Rachel Aviv (who never misses, incidentally) for The New Yorker, "How an Ivy League School Turned Against a Student". What makes a "good" victim?

this thread about creepy shit kids say???

PIZZA FOR DOGS.

sending you all warmth and affection and hoping you have a safe, healthy, and wonderful 2023.

tagging anyone who wants to do this (and tag me so I see it!) as well as those who've done this in the past: @vaderkat @fortysevenswrites @leaiorganas @magalis @illuminahsti @i-am-slain @antifandor @alittlemomentum @cassianserso @callioope

#personal #good things #2022

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psalacanthea · 2 years ago

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Thanks @oxygenforthewicked for the WiP Wednesday tag! I’m not writing this week due to Reasons, but I dug this out and I hope it’s amusing. Texting Thursday? IDK. Lol. A little Darian Tabris x Zevran Arainai x Liana Mahariel (plus baby Adaia)

Arainai/Mahariel/Tabris Family Chat

...

Darian: So say somebody got rested last night

Darian: Arrested

Darian: But they already got bailed out and theres no charges filed

Darian: Because someone had proof of

Darian: Hang on autocorrects not getting it

Darian: Excessive force

Darian: The **** Templar’s Office isn’t going to file charges cousin **** threatened to release video of them threatening to curb stomp me when I stopped them beating on um this mage ****

Zevran: Don’t use speech to text. You always get angry at it. 🖤

Darian: I’m tired of **** spelling things wrong shut up and listen okay

Darian: How I get it to make a question

Zevran: You have to say question mark.

Darian: They kept me overnight just to scare me **** cowards like I ain’t been in jail before I burned down **** Denerim once

Darian: Well three blocks of it anyways

Zevran: Your wife wants me to tell you that she’s going to kill you.

Darian: **** why’s she just my wife?

Zevran: My wife would never have a reason to get so angry. Obviously. I do not get caught.

Darian: That’s not how it works she’s your wife even when she’s mad at me

Zevran: Did you get video of you fighting them? I’m assuming that is what happened.

Darian: Yea I got the whole thing Shianni recorded it

Zevran: Send it I want to watch. 🗡️

Lia: NO.

Darian: Hi bby

Zevran: That is my cue to open a bottle of wine.

Lia: You put that video on a physical storage device and delete it off of your phone RIGHT now! How many times have I lectured you about data security?

Darian: lol

Lia: Derry don’t you dare laugh this off. I’m very serious. You need backups, you need physical storage, and you need to delete it off your phone.

Darian: Love you baby

Lia: What does that have to do with anything?

Darian: I got **** arrested and this is what you’re worried about it’s just cute as ****

Zevran: It is extremely cute.

Lia: Yes it’ll be very cute when the Templars you upset show up at your door, take your phone and destroy it, and beat you to within an inch of your life. Do you not remember what happened in Amaranthine to Anders?

Zevran: No love that doesn’t sound cute.

Lia: You’re not helping.

Zevran: Oh. I was not trying to help. I am a neutral party in this debate.

Lia: Data security isn’t something we can be complacent over!

Zevran: 😂😂😂 🖤

Darian: **** lol

Lia: Just…send me the video and delete it, please. I’ll handle it.

Zevran: Hi da

Darian: Baby girl! Hi Adaia are you being good for mama and papa?

Zevran: No

Darian: Lolol

Lia: At least your daughter is honest.

Darian: You gotta try baby girl. Da will be home soon and then we can cause trouble together

Zevran: She handed me my phone back and said: I’m too tired for this

Darian: Gee wonder where she got that from

Zevran: [image ID: an elven toddler with dark brown curls, golden eyes, and sunglasses on top of her head is dressed in a fuzzy purple bathrobe and Griffey Griffin cartoon character slippers. She’s holding a wine glass that’s much too large for her, full of pale effervescent liquid. Her face is painted with garish makeup and a child’s attempt at drawing Vallaslin, and her tiny fingernails have been carefully painted black.]

Darian: IS THAT FUCKING WINE?

Lia: …Derry it’s sparkling grape juice. Baby wine.

Zevran: Seriously love?

Darian: Can’t you put it inn one of her little plastic cups or something shell break it

Darian: We don’t have many good dishes

Lia: You bought that wine glass from the dollar store.

Zevran: Did he really think we would give her wine?

Lia: From a man who spent the night in jail, no less.

Darian: 🤬

Zevran: 😂

Lia: Good job successfully changing the subject, Zev.

Zevran: 😏 😏 🖤

Zevran: Addy wants you to do my nails, too.

Lia: Do you want black, purple, orange, or holographic sparkles?

Zevran: Orange with sparkles. Do you do Orlesian tips?

Darian: That sounds like a sex thing

Lia: It really does.

Darian: GTG babe sweetie I will try not to get arrested again

Darian: Love

Zevran: I love you. Addy loves you too.

Lia: I love you, please send me the video. Have Shianni delete it, too.

Darian: Data security

Zevran: Data security!

Lia: 😒

#Tabris x Mahariel x Zevran #zevran arainai #Adaia Tabris #WiP Wednesday #sort of

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sapphic-lottienat · 2 months ago

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thankyou sm 4 the tag omgomgomg

୨୧ weirdest dream you can remember

probably from when i was like super young and there was a zombie apocalypse happening on the field at my school and i was at a safe distance but then i was teleported super close to them and had to run for my life! fun

୨୧ random snack you love

olives. just olives. i love olives

୨୧ last movie you watched + rating

bodies bodies bodies!! 8/10 i loved it a lot even if it was a bit confusing and stressful at times but i heart rachel sennot

୨୧ favorite fictional characters

jinx (arcane) tara (btvs) jamie (thobm) claire (derry girls) lottie (yellowjackets) rhiannon (sweetpea)

୨୧ vanilla or chocolate?

same as prev!! vanilla as a scent but chocolate as a flavour

npt: @takemetothelakes-13 @thehollywoodnecromancer @lottienatsnumberonefan @there-1s-still-time @natsboygirlfriend @javiimartinez

tag game ⊹₊⟡⋆

hello angels ⁠♡⁠♡ i decided to do a tag game bc i haven't done one in a long time and they're always really fun imo !!

───────────────୨ৎ──────────────

౨ৎ weirdest dream you can remember:

i was in a tim burton movie and got kidnapped by a vampire which was my bsf, then had to marry him bc i had wings and he liked them, then ate gum and died bc it was poisoned (there were def weirder ones but i can't recall them rn)

౨ৎ random snack you love:

joghurt with banana, peanut butter and chocolate omggg and watermelon with chips i swear it's really good !!

౨ৎ last movie you watched + rating:

juno: 9.5 out of 10 i loved ittt !! >ᴗ<

౨ৎ fav fictional character(s):

atm im especially obsessed with cassie ainsworth and pearl although there are a looot more !!

౨ৎ vanilla or chocolate?

i can't decideee myself ahhh

───────────────୨ৎ──────────────

i know you have to write quite a bit but i hope some people out there enjoy this and i personally always love reading how y'all fill these out ^^

no pressure tags: @sneeky-bean @cupcakee10 @ppingloryhole @moonysprettypoison @delicatesleep @cinnamorwll @daintydoll13 @yourpinkdollyprincess + anyone who would like to join ofc ᯓ★

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thoughtfullyyoungduck · 4 years ago

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Never felt the rain

Summary: Could you write something with Bill having a young daughter and when she asks him to go playing outside in the rain while he was working, he brushed her off, so she went out on own her own and got lost, so Bill thinks she went missing like Georgie?

A/N: here you go anon, I hope you enjoy! Please let me know what you think, it would mean a lot! Also, thank you for requesting this, it had me writing again after a long time and I really missed it, so thank you

Bill has a habit of writing as soon as rain starts drizzling from the sky. He doesn’t usually maintain a schedule, especially not after going back to Derry for a second time an gaining six friends who flitted straight back into his life and who each deserved as much of his time as the others, but when it rains, he forces himself behind the computer.

He draws the curtains shut, puts on a pair of noise cancelling headphones, and hopes that the downpour stops soon. According to his therapist, it’s because the weather reminds him of the day Georgie died and he turns to writing as a distraction, and while she might not be wrong, Bill prefers not to think about the specifics. All he knows is that as soon as dark clouds gather, he retreats to his study.

Audra knows this, and has, to Bills great shame, been a victim to his snappish behavior when he gets disturbed, so she leaves him be, and takes their daughter, Lily, on a mother daughter retreat. It’s their own routine that work well for the both of them, and so far, there haven’t been any problems with it.

Today, the bad weather struck out of nowhere, the rain spatters drumming their own beat on the windows and the foundation of the house, and Bill and remembers how bleak Georgie’s last day on earth had been. He retreats to his study in quiet without informing his daughter or wife about his plans, and slips into an imaginary world, where there’s no rain or bad memories.

He gets lost in it, thankfully. The rhythmic tapping of his keyboard and his own hushed voice lull him into a state so fully focused it allows him to forgo his environment. That includes ignoring the rain, but also the wooden door opening behind him as a small child sneaks in, big blue eyes full of a playful innocence.

He doesn’t hear Lily calling out to him, and is only notified of her arrival when her hand tugs on the sleeve of his shirt. It startles him, a cursed ‘Jesus’, slipping from his mouth before he clamps his teeth over his lips to stop more from tumbling out.

‘Daddy’, Bill reads of his daughters face, before he finally clads off the headset and hears her voice filter through.

She’s Georgie’s age now, and she resembles him a lot. For one, she looks up to her dad with as much wonder as her uncle did, a daddy’s girl through and through. She has the Knick for adventure too, though Bill is not sure that’s always a good thing.

‘What is it honey?’ He asks her with a soft voice. He suppresses the twinge of annoyance, now he’s broken out of his concentration, it’s hard not to notice the outside, and it’ll be difficult to reenter his writing groove.

‘Can we play outside?’ She suggest, lips contorted in a devious little smile that proves that Audra must have said no to her question, and she’s now trying her hand at the person she has wrapped around her finger.

Bill’s gut reaction is to agree. How could he not, when he made the promise to himself to always be the best dad he could be, ever since finding out Audra was pregnant. He swore to himself that he’d never neglect his child, never put her on the backburner for anyone or anything, and that he’d enjoy, relish in every memory he’d be allowed to make with her.

But, he can’t. Not in this situation. Not when Pennywise only came back a mere four months ago, and he was forced into painful memories and past mistakes. Not when he’s relatively convinced that IT’s gone for real, but not 100% assured.

He smiles painfully, and gently pulls his daughter in his lap. It’s not so much that he’s trying to spoil his daughter, it’s just that he loves spending time with her as much as she adores spending time with him. His heart twinges painfully at the notion of disappointing her.

‘Not right now Lil, Daddy’s working.’ He presses a kiss on the top of her head, and squeezes her a bit tighter when a particularly hard downpour causes his heart to clench painfully. If only he had given Georgie a hug like this before letting him out that day.

It’s far too late for that regret now, but he won’t allow the same fate to be bestowed upon his daughter.

‘Please?’ Lily pouts, blinking her eyes in a way that is entirely disarming. She’s so good at convincing, she would make an excellent actress one day. ‘It’ll be so much fun.’ She leans in closer on Bill’s lap, bumping her forehead against Bill’s chest. ‘I promise I won’t step in any puddles.’

It’s a complete lie of course, and Bill can’t help but grin at the idea of Lilly thinking she’s being sneaky about the whole thing, but still, he can’t concur.

‘Later, alright buttercup? And I promise that I’ll spend an entire day with you tomorrow?’

Lily doesn’t smile, so Bill does the one thing he’s become a pro at since becoming a dad; ticking her until she can’t help but laugh.

She shrieks instantly, squirming away from Bill’s fingers as the dance over her sides until she’s nearly toppled of his lip in her haste to escape him, and then giggles long after Bill’s stopped.

Once that too dies out, she bites her lip, seemingly scanning her chances of getting him to agree on going out anyway, but then she concedes.

‘Alright then’, she says a little bit disheartened, but agreeing none the less. She slitters back out as quiet as she came in, but not before a kiss over her shoulder and waving at Bill.

‘See you later dad.’

Bill smiles and waves back, crushed by love and grief battling in his heart for the upper hand, then he puts on his headphone, covers his ears, and he neglects to hear the front door open and lock with a deafening pull.

----

In the end, it’s the guilt that makes him give up only a half hour after Lilly came in to ask for his time. He peruse the last line he’d written, he hadn’t managed to find his flow after the interruption anyway, and closes the document of his new book for the day.

He still can’t find the strength to go outside in this weather but perhaps he can convince Lily that watching a movie and snacking on popcorn is a much better activity then getting wet and cold.

He shuffles into the kitchen, where Audra’s is already at, and wonders if they have enough corn to put together homemade popcorn.

‘Do you think Lily will want to watch a movie? I’m thinking Disney might be the way to go?’ He inquires Audra absentmindedly while scouring the pantries for the ingredients he needs. He knows, just from the sounds of Audra’s voice that something’s the matter.

‘She’s not with you?’ Audra chokes out, voice pinched in panic.

Bill’s heart stops for a full second, before rabbiting so hard his chest feels like exploding.

‘What?’ He asks, but the words feel foreign, like he’s not the one saying it. Audra’s responding look is enough to give him all the answers he needs.

----

The rain remains unforgiven towards Bill, the background of the yet another great tragedy in his life. Cliché as it is, it does help cover up his tears, about the only positive thing in his situation right now. Audra is next to him, on the same level of utter panic as Bill’s, but he hopes for her sake that he appears more composed then he actually is.

He viciously wishes for the losers to be with him now, but calling them would take up to much time and they live too far away to be of any aid anyway.

His neighbors are aiding in the search, but they’re not enough. He doesn’t trust them like he trust his friends, he doesn’t want the life of his daughter depending on strangers.

They keep telling him that she’s fine, that she’s most likely having the time of her life without realizing how her parents are in shambles, but Bill can’t believe that. Lily’s been out for at least thirty minutes, that’s the time they noticed she had disappeared, and even Bill is shivering his socks off. He can’t afford to think about how cold Lily must be.

He separates from the group of searches after the weird glances he receives unsettled peeks when he ducks on his knees and calls out for his daughter in a sewer. Audra, who knows in part what happened to Georgie, lets out a sob.

Bill feels bad for leaving his wife all by herself, but he wants to cover as much ground as possible. He can’t wait at their front porch praying for Lily’s safe return, he knows from experience how feeble that is.

The options of where Lily could be are limited. Her friends live too far away for her to have walked to them, and there was only one place kids of her age liked to hang out. Still, when the park turns up nothing, he scours the area surrounding it, yelling out Lily’s name until his voice skips and a hoarse tone underline his words.

‘P-p-please.’ He screams with his head thrown back towards the sky, his stutter going unnoticed. ‘H-haven’t you t-t-taken enough from m-m-me?’ He’s unsure who he’s calling out too.

Bill’s attention is pulled towards a curtain that wobbles open, and old lady peeking from behind it, judging him with curious eyes. The first one to gossip apparently, but the last to help. Just as with Georgie. Bile threatened to spill as Bill walks on.

With his energy running low, as does his hope, Bill concedes to try and walk in the other direction of his home, to see if anyone else has had more luck than him. Then, seemingly using up all of Bill’s luck for the rest of his life, a wobbled; ‘Daddy’, cries out.

He’s never backed up so quick, and when he lays eyes on Lily, he’s never run that fast towards her either. It’s the pure and utter fear you experience as a kid, when you get lost in a comic in the store and you swivel back around to your mom, but she’s gone somewhere and you can’t find her.

That’s the feeling that linger when you lose someone close to you. And when she pops back up, that’s the utter relief Bill gets to taste now.

He’s back on his knees before he can comprehend it, and his hand curls around Lily’s back and head, cradling her so close this chest it’s nearly suffocating. Bill weeps, caressing his daughters hair as he checks her over.

‘Oh honey’, he chokes, swelling multiple times to force back the lump of tears.

Lily’s crying too, though it seems more out of reluctant than anything else.

‘I’m sorry dad. I just wanted to go out and play. But I fell and I think my bike is broken. I’m really sorry.’

Bill sorrow laughs. He can’t stop the ridiculous laughter that’s so absurd.

‘Lily, I couldn’t care less about a bike’, Bill explains, and he means it every bit. He pulls her back in a tight hug, allowing himself ten more seconds before he has to let go of her.

‘Please don’t ever do that again,’ he whispers, leaving a quick kiss on her head. He holds her as close as he wish he could have done to Georgie, if he had been found alive too. Maybe later, tomorrow or the day after, he’d have a more firm conversation about how sneaking out is not okay, but today, the relief wins over every other emotion or lecture.

‘Is mom mad?’ Lily asks, her own arms clenched around Bill’s shirt so tight it’s clear that she also had a large fright.

Shit, Audra. In an instant, Bill picks up his daughter, arm holding her up by the knees. She’s old enough to walk, but Bill has longer legs and walks faster.

‘No’, he assures her, despite a conformation of Audra. He’s sure his feeling are rekindled in his wife too. ‘But we have to let her know you’re okay. She’s worried too.’

‘Okay’, Lily agrees easy, her head resting on Bill’s shoulders. The rain isn’t that cold anymore, now that he has his child back in the safety of his arms.

----

That evening, Bill, Audra and Lily are cuddles together on their couch, watching Aladdin. Lily has long slipped to the land of dreams, but Bill and Audra want to keep her close for a little while longer. Maybe they’ll all spend the night here anyway, regardless of future back pains, but that’s a discussion for later.

Bill swipes one of Lily’s curls from her forehead gently, smiling when she snores deeper, then settles again.

‘Love you buttercup.’ Bill says, in his mind, he thinks, ‘I’ll never let anything happen to you.’

#request #My writing #bill denbrough #bill denbrough imagines #bill denbrough as a dad #bill denbrough x daughter #the losers club imagines #it chapter two imagine #adult losers #adult Bill denbrough #audra

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asteriismos · 4 years ago

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toxic - bill denbrough

request :

ok great! so can you write something about being Stan's sister and liking bill and at a sleepover at the readers house bill sneaks in the readers room and they have some fun? -💒

words : 3.1k

»»————-　★　————-««

the first time that you noticed your older brother stanley’s friends checking you out was in your junior year of high school. richie tozier called you hot, which earned him a giant smack on the back of the head from stan. that was a year ago, right when your brother and his friends graduated and were getting ready to go to college.

you had to admit that senior year sucked without your brother at home to keep you company. all you had was your mom and dad which got a little annoying sometimes because there was no one your age in the household. but it was summer and stanley was coming back for it, finally curing your boredom and helping you slowly pack to make your own adventure towards college.

the second that stanley was home, you jumped on him, tackling you into a hug that you’ve never given your big brother before. he was happy to be back home, and neither of you would admit it, but you two missed each other a whole lot. he asked you how senior year went since he last saw you during winter break and came down for a day for your graduation. after you two caught up, he said he needed to get ready to go to the diner with the rest of his friends that got in town.

you sat on the bottom of the stairs, texting your friend group chat about some party that was going on in a week just a little outside of derry. the doorbell rang softly and you sprung onto your feet, taking a few steps towards the door and opening it.

standing right outside the door was bill denbrough, standing at least a few inches taller than you dressed in a black t shirt and jeans. and damn did he look good. you always had a little bit of a crush on bill mostly because he was the nicest to you out of the friend group and didn't always treat you like a little kid, and because he had a massive growth spurt his freshman year. now he wasn’t the same looking bill that used to play toy action figures with your brother. bill was hot as hell.

you bit your lip, smiling up at him and leaning against the doorframe. “hey, bill,” you greeted, taking in his sculpted jawline and his messy auburn hair. he gave you a grin and his green eyes met yours, nodding a little bit in greeting, “hey, y/n. you l-look good.”

“so do you, denbrough,” you said, pushing the door open all the way to let him in the house. “stan should be down in a few minutes. I think he’s just getting dressed or something, you know how he is.”

bill laughed, “yeah. makes s-sense. how was derry while n-none of us were here?” he leaned against the now closed door and for a moment you saw his eyes dart along your body, taking in your appearance. you shivered a little bit.

“it was okay. glad that I'm going to college. how was your year?” you asked him.

“better than here.”

you hummed, opening your mouth to say something else but being cut off by a door opening upstairs. stan appeared at the top of the stairs, waving his hands at his childhood friend and walking down with a little jump in his step. he pushed past you and hugged bill, making you roll your eyes as stan said something about how much he missed big bill. you sat back down on the bottom step.

stanley motioned over to you. “hope she didn’t annoy you too much.”

“screw you stan,” you said with a laugh, shaking your head.

bill shook his head, walking with your brother to the door. stan walked out first and before he walked out behind him, bill winked at you, closing the door. you felt yourself redden a small bit, shaking your head and trying to cleanse your mind of any naughty things you were thinking about doing with your brothers best friend.

a few days went by and the more you tried to not think about bill, the more you felt your mind drift to him. you didn’t know where these thoughts were spurring from, especially because you knew that if you ever did anything with bill, stanley would kill both of you. still though, the thoughts of bill didn’t subside.

you were sitting in your room when you heard the door open from downstairs, the laughs and voices of several people filling your house. now you understood why your parents had told you to just order takeout. stan was having all of his friends over. you decided to hide in your room, mostly because you weren’t the closest with stan’s friends ( you hung out with bev and richie a few times ). and also because you didn’t want to intrude and piss stan off. you knew that he needed his alone time with his friends. after all, he hasn’t seen them in almost a year.

bill, on the other hand, was looking forward to seeing you. he didn’t know why, but he had always liked you a little bit more than a person should for their best friends sister. he knew that stanley would have him castrated if he ever did anything, which is why he kept his hands off.

that didn’t mean that he couldn’t stare at you though.

and bill did stare at you a lot. shamelessly and without hesitation because well, you were hot. and you weren’t like the other girls in derry who started throwing themselves at him once he started playing baseball freshman year, you were just the same with him. sweet. innocent in a way.

stan’s innocent sister. he had to remind himself of while he sat on the living room couch. bill was thinking off into space, not tuned into the conversation at all. but you weren’t really that innocent. he knew that. there was a rumor that went around school for a while that he caught wind of, something about you with this other guy on his baseball team. bill remembered the way that his hand clenched up and the slight anger that bubbled up inside him when he heard it, and he also remembered dropping his baseball bat ‘accidentally’ on the guy’s foot later that day.

while upstairs, you could hear bill talking in the living room, and you felt yourself get a little bit too excited at the idea of him in your house. it wasn’t hard to imagine him in your room, in your bed, under the sheets with you . . . the overwhelming feeling made you clench your thighs together to alleviate the pressure that was building up.

you wanted him.

you wanted him so bad.

and you were determined to get him.

dressed in one of stan’s old baseball shirts that he gave you when he initially moved into his college dorm, you started walking downstairs to the kitchen. the shirt reached just to the middle of your thighs, enough to keep suspicions of ulterior motives from your brother, but also enough to catch the attention of a certain auburn haired best friend of his as well.

the kitchen was left of the stairs, meaning that whomever was in the living room would only see you for a few moments until you turned the corner. your feet padded on the wood flooring of the main floor, taking a chance by glancing into the living room. you saw bill sitting there, initially laughing and looking at whatever richie seemed to be doing in front of the tv. his head tilted back in another fit of laughter and when it came back up, his eyes landed on you. it didn’t take long for them to wander elsewhere, and you just gave him a sweet smile, turning your back to him and sauntering into the kitchen.

the second you grabbed a glass of water and made your way back towards the stairs, you knew that bill was waiting to see you again. you didn’t even have to turn and look at him, only taking your time walking up the stairs and back into the confines of your room, watching the minutes tick away on the clock. if you had played your cards right, bill may pay a visit to your room.

it was torture having to wait for the hours to pass by, until finally you started to hear less and less talking happening downstairs. there were only a few of them up, and from the voices, you deduced that it was mike and stan, you didn’t hear bill at all. perhaps you were thinking too fully of yourself, bill actually didn’t want you in that way.

the voices stopped, you were seemingly the only person awake in the house.

you slid to the edge of your bed, just about to stand up to turn your lights off when you heard a light knock on your door. it was so light that for a moment you weren’t even sure it was a knock at all. a few seconds passed by and there was another knock, and you realized that someone was indeed at your door.

with a small ‘come in’ from you, the door opened, bill walking into your room. he was in checkered pajama bottoms and a shirt with his college logo on it, closing the door softly and leaning against it. you gave him a small smile, uncrossing your legs and cocking an eyebrow up.

“you know, s-stan is very protective of y-you,” bill said in a soft voice, keeping his focus on you.

you shrugged. “he’s my big brother, what do you expect?”

bill laughed, getting off of the door and walking closer to you. for a moment you thought that he was going to get on top of you right then and there with no further talk, but instead he only stood before you a few feet away. there was a dramatic height difference between the two of you because you were sitting down. the sight of him towering over you made you squeeze your thighs together again, which you thought was discreet. but by the looks of it, bill noticed your little motion.

“it p-pisses me off t-though,” he went on to say.

“why’s that?”

“b-because you’re h-hot”

you smirked, leaning in just a little bit towards him. he was just standing there in front of you, his eyes so intense that you knew any movement you did wouldn’t go undetected. so in a surge of confidence, you opened your mouth to say, “is it driving you crazy?”

there was no response with words, only bill leaning in to close the gap between you two and kissing you. it was harsh, the force enough to push you back from your previous sitting up position. your hands moved up to cup his cheeks and his kept himself up while he pushed his body against yours, your back pressing against your soft mattress.

his lips moved against yours while one of his hands came up to your sides, but you pulled away. just for a moment, so that you could push yourself up from the edge of the mattress, your head falling onto the pillows. bill moved with you, grinning like a kid at a candy store when you pulled him by the neck to kiss him again.

it felt good, more than good really . . . it felt like the best thing in the world. you’ve been with only a few people like this before, and bill was the first one that really made you feel something more than just the usual hornyness that came with a hookup. this felt real.

you hands moved down his sides, pushing under his shirt and squeezing the taut skin that was below your fingertips. his knee came in between your legs and pressed up, making you breath heavy into his mouth, keeling towards him for more of that feeling. you knew that you couldn't make much noise, because the only thing separating you two and the rest of his friends downstairs was your door. you didn't know what you would say to stanley if he heard something and came in to investigate.

bill sat up and pulled his shirt off, hands reaching down to do the same to yours and throw it down onto your floor. your skin felt hot against his hands, while they ran up your sides and to your shoulders to meet your bra straps. soon enough he was reaching behind you and unclipping it, and with your help, your chest was fully exposed to him.

he ducked his head down and kissed at your neck, teeth grazing along while he stopped and sucked a little bit in a few spots. they were only the lightest of marks, easy to cover up when you would need to. he made his way south, stopping and paying attention to the valley of your breasts, teasing you. your hands carded through his hair, pulling on it and arching your chest up to meet his mouth, telling him to go ahead.

bill laughed. “you’re so irresistible, you know that?” he said against your skin, moving left and catching one of your nipples in his mouth. you gasped out, taking in the feeling and closing your eyes. you never wanted this to end. bill made you feel so good. his other hand grabbed your other tit, softly kneading it and then switching after a minute or so.

the sounds that you were making was enough to make bill go crazy, he could stay and be with you forever if he could. he couldn't believe it took him this long to realize truly how beautiful you were. all those years the losers teased stanley about his hot sister, bill just thought that they were doing it to get under stan’s skin, though bill knew now that it was more than that. he wasn’t just with you to get under his friends skin, he really liked you.

in fact, bill was so in over his head that he didn’t even hear you call out his name to get his attention. it wasn’t until the third time you said his name that he noticed and stopped what he was doing, looking up at you from your chest, that was now red and kiss swollen.

you smiled, grabbing him by his jaw. “they could realize you’re gone,” you said. as much as you wanted to spend the entire night with him and draw this out as much as you could, you knew that someone could wake up. and the second that they didn’t see that bill was downstairs, they would get curious and the possibility of getting caught increases drastically.

bill nodded, reaching in his back pocket and getting his wallet. from there he pulled out a condom, making you laugh.

“what? it’s good to be prepared,” bill said.

“you’re such a dork,” you joked, pushing down your pants and underwear, waiting for him to get himself together. you watched him do the same, taking the condom out of the package and putting it on himself.

there was a brief pause in between movements where he was just sitting there in between your legs, looking at you in the eyes. you kept eye contact and he said in a whisper, “you know that you’re really beautiful, right?”

you felt your face heat up, suddenly turning a little bashful in front of him. no guy ever really called you beautiful before. sure, you’ve been called hot and pretty, but never beautiful. especially in the way that bill said it, like he meant every word.

you responded by kissing him, pulling his body as close as it would get to your own. the burning desire you felt for bill grew with every passing second.

he pushed into you, not slowly, but not fast either. he eased into it, both of you stopped kissing each other to get used to the feeling. you felt him push in inch by inch, filling you up like no other person could. and you just felt too good around bill, it was like he was in a dream. a few seconds later, you rolled your hips against his, prompting him to start moving. it didn’t really hurt, and the uncomfortableness went away and you were ready for more.

the pit in your stomach was already starting to form as continued to move, thrusting in and out at a steady pace. your hands found their way to his back and your fingers dug into his skin, arching yourself into him.

your moans were hard to keep quiet, bill was making you feel so good and you wanted nothing more than to just moan out his name as loud as you could. but instead you tucked your face into the crook of his neck, trying to stifle out your moans as much as you could.

bill kept one hand on your hip so he could steady himself, but the other stayed next to your head, keeping him over you and getting a deeper angle. you pulled your legs up, wrapping them around his waist, causing both of you to moan out loudly. he stilled inside for you just a moment, as if he was waiting to hear any movement downstairs.

but there was none, and bill continued.

“fuck, bill,” you moaned out, skin hot and sweat was starting to form on your brow.

bill took that as a sign that you were getting close, so his hand dropped down and toyed with your clit, sending your head to slam down into your pillow. your hips rolled against his own and his hand, stars were seen in your vision and you were cumming below him. it was the strongest orgasm you think you’ve ever had before in your life.

not even two thrusts after, he was coming undone too, pulling out and plopping down next to you. each of you slowed your breathing, your hand came to grab his own and you two stayed like that for a long time.

soon enough, bill was sitting up and getting his clothes back on. you whined, grabbing him by the arm as he was putting on his shirt. “can’t you stay?” you asked, batting your eyelashes and pouting.

bill leaned over and kissed your forehead, pulling the covers up over you. “you know I would if I could,” bill said, taking a glance at the closed door. “but if stan wakes up and sees that im with you in your bed, he’ll kill me.” both of you laughed and you just nodded, watching him as he walked to the door.

before he left, he looked at you and gave you a wink.

“I'll see you tomorrow then?”

#bill denbrough #bill denbrough x reader #bill denbrough imagine #bill denbrough smut #the losers club #mike hanlon #stanley uris #beverly marsh #eddie kaspbrak #richie tozier #ben hanscom #pennywise #it #IT movie #it movie imagine #it movie 2017 #it movie x reader #it movie 2019

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introvertguide · 3 years ago

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The Best Years of Our Lives (1946); AFI #37

The next film on the AFI list is the epic drama, directed by William Wyler, about the men coming home to their families after WW2, The Best Years of Our Lives (1946). The timing on the films\ was perfect to help families deal with the struggles of returning war veterans. It deals with unfaithful partners, loving partners who have to learn to except injuries of their loved ones, and families who have made a life out of being without a father in the household and nobody is quite sure how to proceed. The movie was nominated for 8 Oscars and took home 7 of them including Best Picture and Best Director. Harold Russel won Best Supporting Actor as well as a special award for encouraging fellow veterans. Mr. Russel was the only actor to ever win two acting awards for the same role in the same year. There is more to be said about the actors and the story, but it seems now is a good time to go over the plot of the film. This, of course, involves...

SPOILER ALERT!!! WHAT HAPPENS IN THIS FILM IS NO BIG SURPRISE, BUT I WOULD STILL RECOMMEND WATCHING IT FIRST AND THEN COMING BACK AFTER TO READ THE REVIEW!!!

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The plot follows the lives of three veterans returning from service at the end of World War II to the fictional midwestern town of Boone City: USAAF bombardier Fred Derry (Dana Andrews), naval petty officer Homer Parrish (Harold Russel), and platoon sergeant Al Stephenson (Fredric March). Before their respective military service, Fred was a soda jerk who married Marie (Virginia Mayo) shortly before shipping out. Al was a banker living with his wife Millie (Myrna Loy), adult daughter Peggy (Teresa Wright) and teen-aged son Rob. Homer was a star high school athlete living with his parents and sister, next door to his girlfriend, Wilma (Cathy O'Donnell). Homer lost both hands during the war and returns with mechanical hook prostheses.

Each man faces challenges integrating back into post-war society. Homer deals with the adjustments he and his family and Wilma face in light of his disability. Al's penchant for alcohol and the adjustments of returning to the banking business cause tension with his family and business associates. Fred, who experiences flashbacks of his bombing raids, becomes frustrated with the wife he barely knows and an employer who fails to appreciate him, and who eventually fires him when Fred punches a man in defense of Homer. Fred and Peggy become attracted to each other which puts the married Fred and Al at odds. Fred eventually leaves his cheating wife, and with no seeming future in Boone City, he decides to catch the next plane out. At the airport, Fred visits an aircraft boneyard and has another flashback. He is roused by a work crew boss who agrees to hire Fred to help disassemble the war planes for prefabricated housing material. Now divorced, Fred serves as best man at the wedding of Homer and Wilma, where he sees Peggy and they reunite.

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I have watched this film 4 times in the last 6 weeks because I kept meaning to do the review and then something happened. I had a move out of state, my dad was sick, I got a sudden group of students...it has been interesting. It has allowed my to really digest what this film is all about. A couple things that surprised me are how the women play all the tough characters, which was very abnormal for the time. Fred plays second fiddle to a cheating wife. Al tries to get his family to go out on the town. Homer doesn't want to talk about what is bothering him while Wilma shows undying love and loyalty. All of the men's roles basically described how Old Hollywood expected women to act at the time.

Let's go into depth with the characters a little more. Fred is having some kind of PTSD issue caused by seeing a man burned in a bomber. He apparently saved a bunch of men, but his memories still haunt him. He married a gold digger that loves a man in uniform before he left and she turns out to be a dud. He falls for Peggy Stevenson, daughter of one of the men he met on the plane home. He moves in too early and gets told off by her dad but his garbage wife divorces him and he goes back for Peggy. A lot of men got married right before leaving and returned to a wife they didn't really know. This was a real and present danger at the time this film came out and it was brave of them to address it so head on.

Al was the big man around the house and made all of the money for the family and his wife and children basically served him before the war. Al went off and became a sergeant so he became used to people doing what he said. He returned to a family that had learned to get by without him and had their own life so he is at a loss of what his place is in the family so he just gets drunk to cover up the awkwardness. His wife, Millie, and his daughter, Peggy, have angelic patience with the unsure man of the family and help him find his place again. This aspect of the movie was more about the strong women of the family although Fredric March was the one who received an Oscar for his performance.

Homer is the character I think most people remember about this movie because he was missing his hands. He was afraid to see his girlfriend and family because of the hooks that replaced his hands might be frightening. It did take some getting used to, but his girl seemed to love him just the same. Homer seemed to think that she would not like him anymore because he couldn't do all of things he could before. He had a little difficulty with tone because he would go from demanding independence one minute to wallowing in self pity the next. What is so good about the film and the character is that injured veterans tend to go through the stages of grief over the loss of a limb or motor function of a limb. It is likely that he would be all over the spectrum emotionally.

There were quite a few racial slurs about the Japanese people because there were very hard feelings for the bombing of Pearl Harbor, especially from the Navy and Air Force. It is a little hard to listen to today, but it does convey they American sentiment of the time. It also makes sense that you really have to hate somebody to want to fight and kill them, so I understand why all of the these characters would feel that way about people from that country.

Some of the scenes were a little uncomfortable to watch because awkward feelings about returning home and fitting back in with their families and society is not a comfortable subject. Al was especially hard for me to watch because he tried to hide his feelings with copious amounts of drinking. His first night back when he hit on his wife thinking she was somebody else and when he made a speech at his company's "welcome home" party both stand out as especially cringy.

So does this film belong on the AFI top 100? Of course it does. It is multi award winning and gives the viewer a feel for that moment in time right after WW2 when all the military people were coming home. Would I recommend it? Yes. It is one of the few movies of the time period that weren't touting America's superiority and instead focused on the toll that going to war took on the people who fought and those waiting back home. It is quite a long film with some cringy moments, but it is well worth it and very memorable.

#the best years of our lives #american movies #fredric march #AFI top 100 #introverts #introvert #black and white #best picture #academy award winner

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thedevilsbckbone · 1 year ago

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Ever since the call from Otis, Gwen had been through a whirlwind of emotions as all these memories she'd long forgotten had all came trudging back the moment he'd told her it was back. The clown. They had made a pact to return if it ever showed back up and now it seemed like it was time to make good on her promise. Of course, she hadn't even remembered she'd made the promise at first - wondering how it was even possible that such a monumental time in her childhood had been completely lost to her.

That summer, after they thought they'd defeated the clown, had been the last one she'd spent in Derry. Her mother had divorced her father by that point and the older woman had whisked her daughter all the way across the country to enroll her in a music program where Gwen would grow up to become the accomplished musician she was, working for the LA symphony and had made a life for herself raising her son. Sure it had not been easy, having to mold herself into the person everyone expected her to be, rather than the woman she wanted to be. However, responsibilities had a tendency to do that to a person. The last time she was truly herself was that summer, when they were all kids and she could be the brazen, carefree girl who wasn't afraid to get a little dirty and rough with her friends.

She almost didn't go, having her son Philip to think about. However, she thought of the little girl Otis had told her about -- the one that alerted their friend that the creature was back. She thought of the poor child's mother, and of the mothers of all the other children slain over the years by the monster that fed off their fears. What if one of them had been Philip? How could she go on living in a world knowing she could help stop any other parent from having to experience that pain. So, in the end she'd agreed, being the first to arrive back in town and meeting up with Otis at his home where he caught her up to speed on some of the things that were still fuzzy for the redhead.

They were walking through town, Otis catching Gwen up on what'd been happening in town since she'd left, when they suddenly both came to a stop as they turned the corner to see the profile of a man long forgotten about. As if drawn to him like a moth to a light, Gwen found herself carefully making her way over to Tom, feeling all these memories and feelings hit her like a freight train from the moment she recognized him. She'd been so in shock by it, that she hadn't even considered that walking up on him the way she did might spook the male. As he jumped, the redhead did as well, getting startled by his reaction. I guess it would make sense that they'd all be a bit jumpy.

"Sorry! So sorry about that --" she quickly apologized with a small laugh as she put her hand to her chest, feeling her heart race. Though whether that was due to fright she'd just had or because of the male in general was hard to say. "Tom -- Wow! It's good to see you again. You look great! " He looked just like how she remembered, though admittedly a bit more tired and weathered around the edges but she was sure the same could be said each one of them. After all, it had been 27 years since they last saw one another. Yet even still, looking at him now, it almost felt like no time had passed at all -- especially the way he still seemed to make her stomach flutter.

After that summer when they were kids, most of the others in his group had all slowly left Derry. One by one they'd moved away and the moment they stepped out of town, it was like they didn't exist. At least, that's how it began to feel when over time they all lost contact and it seemed all memories of the clown, the murders and even their friendship seemed to slip their minds. Not Otis, though. He had made the sacrificial decision to stay, to be there in case the creature ever came back, so he could collect on their promise to come back and defeat it for good. He'd kept tabs on them, watching the way each of his childhood friends seemed to flourish in their own ways, carving out successful lives for themselves, while he worked in the records building at the local police office. He wasn't bitter though, feeling as if this was all some big grand plan that he couldn't quite see the full picture of just yet.

Oh, but he was determined to. After his brother's death, Otis had made it hims mission to learn everything he could about the monster. Years of old police records had served to help him get a good understanding that this thing was ancient and that it wasn't finished yet. He'd come to figure out why his friends forgot about the monster and why they all seemed to do well in life. It was trying to keep them away. Because for the first time, they had actually weakened it. Sure they hadn't been able to kill it then, but now with the knowledge he had, Otis knew they had a chance.

So, when a couple children seemed to go missing again and later found brutally mutilated, he knew it was time to call the gang. The phone calls had not been easy to make and he knew that there was a chance that none of them would come back, but he had hoped that they would. To his relief, a few days later Gwen had shown up at his doorstep, looking unsure and confused but otherwise happy to see (and remember) him again. He caught her up to speed on what he knew, learning more about what she'd been up to along the way.

He was taking her through a tour of the town, when they came up on the corner where Tom used to live. A small smile spread across the male's lips when he saw the other man standing there. He'd shown up. Gwen seemed to be just as surprised by the news and he could see the way her eyes lit up in recognition before she was making her way over to greet him -- the both of them jumping in surprise when she accidentally started the other.

Otis chuckled softly at the exchange, getting a flash of them as their kid selves again and feeling his chest fill with a warmth that he'd hadn't experienced in a long long time. Walking up to the pair, he regarded the man with a small smile as he held out his hand to him. "Welcome back, my friend." he greeted, fondly. "I'm glad you made it."

character: tom open: m/f/nb plot: tom, your muse, and a few others were friends as children in a small town in the south. when they were all around 11-13, a killer clown began terrorizing the youth of their town and murdering their schoolmates. they banded together to defeat the clown, not knowing it was only going back into hibernation. after they defeated it, they promised to return if the clown ever came back. once they left the small town, however, their memories of the event faded... until tom got a call that it had returned. now back in town, he's still getting his bearings. yeah, it's just IT lol. we can turn this into a mumu if we feel inclined, but your muse in this thread could either be the one that called him to come back or another one of the former friend group that forgot about the event of that one summer until the fateful phone call. the nature of their relationship when they were children, i.e. platonic, romantic, or antagonistic, is also up to you! this post was made using beta editor, please do not reblog it in legacy as i no longer have access to it!

how could he have forgotten so much of his life? many things had happened between his youth and his adulthood, including the birth of his now twenty-one year old daughter and the later arrest of his older brother, all things that lasted on his memory like a cattle brand. how could he ever forget that clown? the moment he picked up his phone two days ago, it was like his reality had been shattered. that his life had somehow been a lie. how could he forget? how could any of them? the street he had grown up on hadn't changed much since he was a child, but he couldn't even trust his memories anymore now that several new ones—that were actually old ones—flooded into his mind. "jesus..." tom whispered, digging his fingers into his curly hair. the house he was looking at had once housed himself, his parents, and his older brother. the people the abendroths had been when they lived in that house were so different than the ones they ended up becoming. he used to wonder how things went so wrong for his family, but now he had to wonder if the clown had something to do with it. taking his hands out of his hair, he didn't notice them until they were nearly a foot away. tom nearly jumped out of his shoes, but quickly relaxed when he realized who it was. more memories spilled into his brain; he didn't understand how there could be more to uncover, but seeing their face lit a match inside him. "oh. it's you." he said, a slow smile spreading across his mouth.

#tr; gwendolyn baxter #tr; otis howard #in; tom abendroth #I'll add kirstins tag once I learn her name!#someotherdog #might as well call me stephen king at this point bc why T F do I always write so much????#just getting carried away as per ususal #but let me know if you need me to change anything #and pls don't feel like you gotta match!#Matenme Porqueue Me Muero

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beauregard-s · 4 years ago

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Verdigris | Bill Denbrough

Pairing: Bill Denbrough x Reader (18 yo in this one)

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: language, mild hate-to-love trope and mentions of cheating and toxic relationship

A/n: ��The one with Baseball Player!Bill and the song Verdigris by Gus Dapperton’

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He can’t stop watching you.

At the bowling alley on a Friday night. Your arms crossed, a hidden smile on as one of your friends rolls the ball and misses the pins miserably. You probably had a night off, or else you’d be at the arcade trying to tame the thirteen-year-olds that keep fighting over the Pac-Man machine.

Bill can’t stop staring and it’s annoying beyond belief.

“For fuck’s sake, Bill! Are you playing or not?”

He’s forced to drag his attention away from you under Richie’s hiss only to perceive how everybody is staring at him - except for Ben checking on his shoelaces after tripping on them at least twice already. The looks range from Richie’s pissed one, to Mike, Beverly, and Eddie’s confusion, and laying on Stan’s impassivity.

“I just puh-played two rounds ago, Richie, stop m-mah-messing the order,” he complains, yes, but stepping up and grabbing himself a ball is the same as calling his own bullshit.

His move is absent anyway, only hits three pins because he backs off as soon as the ball leaves his fingers, making room for Ben to go next. Standing more in the back so he can turn his head in your lane’s direction again, all the way across the alley.

Only in time to watch you striking for the second time that night.

Only in time to catch how your eyes automatically fly in his direction right after that.

It’s quick, just a few seconds before you turn away again like at school two - or three? - weeks before, when you shouted out loud in a hallway about how you were cheated on, a thing many girls would hide, never talk about and pray for it to never come up. But you didn’t. When Henry Bowers leaned by your locker and probably tried to slide in some smug explanation, you shut the metal door so loud people around turned their heads and others who didn’t hear it from the first time caught on what was happening as soon as you told him to go ‘get his dick wet with Anna Thompson from now on’.

That being said you stormed out, and your eyes met his because he was frozen in a trance not perceiving at first he was blocking your way.

He couldn’t call you a bully, but nor could he call you an angel. You were Bowers’ girlfriend for quite a while, never messed with him but was never smooth either. You always stood neutral about Bowers tormenting him, almost bored, he noticed. Maybe uncomfortable with the situation if he overthought on that?

Never mattered. Bill recognizes he doesn’t know much about you, never got interested in doing so. Never needed to. You are just y/n, Henry Bowers’ blessed girl - because, thinking about it, yes, someone must be somehow holy to endure that one. Y/n, who he thought that barely minded him but still locked eyes and seemed to flash him a very inconspicuous smile that brought him back to Earth and made him move aside to let you walk into your 6th period class.

Y/n that since then started to hover above him like a little bird of prey, keeping those secretly mischievous eyes on him whenever they shared the room. Driving him insanely curious to find out what all of this is about.

“I swear to God, Big Bill!” Richie cries out in frustration, clapping his hands together in a desperate try to get his attention, “it’s your turn again!”

***

“Homealone again?” Stan asks while buckling up on the driver's seat after leaving the alley almost forcefully when the place closed, Mike’s horn breaking the late-night silence as he leaves to take Ben and Bev home.

“Yeah, for the weekend.” Bill sighs, sinking into the seat and smirking. “Why? Wanna throw a p-party?”

Stan snorts in the dark, turning the keys for the headlights to break through the darkness ahead. “Not after the last one,” he starts the car and leaves while Bill recalls the last party they went to. The party where around 1 am everybody started gossiping about how someone entered a room without knocking and...

“Y/n l/n, then?”

Bill moves uncomfortably. Of course, the party where everybody found out you were cheated on before you could do it yourself. Stan Uris really sees everything, knows everything, and perceives everything. And also have the gift of smoothly leading people into the point he wants to get to.

“I don’t think so,” Bill says.

Stan swirls the steering wheel to the left into a quiet street, suffocating another laugh. “So you’re telling me you were not perving on her the whole night.”

“I wasn’t p-puh-p-perving!”

“No!” Stan’s laugh finally comes filled up with irony. “At the bowling alley, at school, whenever she shows up during practices and her great presence disturbs you to the point you miss the pitches… Since she broke up with Bowers, whenever she’s around your mind goes wasted”. Bill grimaces and he goes on. “And judging by tonight, she seems to be at the same place as you are.”

“She’s not at the same p-place as I am because I’m not at any p-place, Stan.” Bill sticks his arm out of the window into the cold breeze, feeling something boiling inside him. That annoyance again. “She’s been teasing me since she broke up with her dear b-boyfriend, it’s all.”

Stan slows down at a crossing, making a snap noise with his tongue. “How convenient, no?” Bill scowls, eyes off the road to look up at his slightly raised brows, and he goes on, “Bowers’ girl gets cheated on and then starts flirting with you, Bill Denbrough. The guy who had his lip split open by those fists more times than we could actually remember.”

“Tell me about it…” Bill’s voice barely comes out as he watches the stores slowly turning into houses with dark windows and faded front porches, trying to smother that burning feeling inside.

“And you’re playing her game,” Stan adds calmly.

Bill snaps his neck towards the driver's seat again but Stan only shows that same impassivity from earlier, eyes solely on the road. “Don’t tell me you’re not, because you are. I saw it tonight. Besides it, we all know you’re that sucker for unbecoming stuff.”

Bill shakes his head, gnawing on his cheek in bitterness as the car stops in front of a two-floor house and Stan turns the keys, sending them into silence and darkness again, turning on his seat to face a skeptical Bill unclasping his seatbelt harshly.

“I am not. I wanna f-find out what game is she p-playing b-but I’m not playing it myself.”

“Okay,” Stan taps onto the wheel, grinning in his disbelief because he knows Bill well enough to know he may sound like he has his foot down when he’s in fact as unsteady as sand. “But she could put you in big shit trouble, you know?”

Bill gets out of the car, leaning into the window as soon as he closes the door, drawing a cockish grin. “Yeah b-but, again, I’m not playing her game, Stan.”

He assured himself that, even though his mind wanders towards you until he goes to sleep and even though you remain there when he wakes up Saturday morning.

He’s not playing your game.

But you’ve been testing his limits, slowly getting under his skin somehow with so little effort. Catching his attention when he doesn’t want to give it to you. You’re guaranteed trouble and he hates how you leave him restless whenever you are out of his sight and trouble his mind whenever you are both sharing space.

But he’s not playing your game.

Yet he still finds himself waiting outside the arcade later at night, at a discreet distance with his hands tucked in his jacket’s pockets to keep them from freezing under the fall weather. Bill watches you leading the last kids outta the place, promising an upset little guy they’ll be open early the next day too and turning the sign hanging on the glass door as soon as they leave to warn everyone the place is finally closed. The sweet way you talked to the kid doesn’t match the troublemaker image he painted of you in his mind throughout the day.

He’s not playing the game, but he’s ending it before he goes insane. Being a chess piece is not on his plans. He doesn’t know where you’re going with all of that so he walks into the store, immediately catching your attention.

You’re checking and closing the cashier when the noise makes you look up from behind the counter only to find the surprisingly-not-so-popular pitcher of the Derry High School’s baseball team standing there in between the flashing machines.

“Hey there, Denbrough,” you say softly, bringing your attention back to the dollar bills. “We’re closed.”

He taps his foot, trying to find the words to say what he wants to say because even though he planned talking to you the whole day, suddenly he feels lost and vulnerable under that nonchalant way of yours.

“I know, I didn’t come to play.” Bill feels proud of how steady he sounds although he’s clenching his hidden fists. He has the slight impression you are not as confused as you seem when you eye him again. This time deeper.

“How can I help you then?”

He thought he had a solid plan, but he doesn’t at all. All he can think of is how did Bowers get you? A straight A’s girl with such sweet talk, pretty face, and bold demeanors.

“You can help me by stopping m-messing around.” There goes his steadiness through the window, every single drop of it when your lips give him a lopsided smile, closing the cashier and pulling a bunch of keys out of a drawer.

“And what do you mean by messing around?” you walk around the counter and passing by him because even though Bill Denbrough is standing in front of you straight out of a dream in his stupid letterman jacket, a robbery wouldn’t be welcome and you gotta lock the doors and close the curtains. That blocks all the light from the outside, sending both of you into a gloom only lightened by the neon lights around.

“I mean all the flirting you’re doing.” His voice deepens a tone. “ I want you to stop it.”

He looks adorably anxious, of course. All fidgety when he’s trying to confront you that way but flinching when you turn on your heels to face him, his hands still in his pockets for what? Hide his nervous manners?

Not that you’re that secure yourself with your sped up heart. You wish you had pockets too so you could hide how you poke a cuticle on your thumb.

“I’m not flirting with you,” you say simply. “I know you’d like that, but-“

“You wish, l/n” he hisses and you know you’ve hit a weak spot. Also not that you didn’t know said weak spot exists.

“I know what you’re doing, and I’m not getting in trouble for it.” Bill steps closer, letting his sweaty hands finally fall to his sides.

“Again, I’m not the one messing around” You see his jaw clench, and go on leaning back against the Donkey Kong machine. “You are.”

Bill snorts and the way he runs his fingers through his auburn hair messing it in frustration makes things to you. Yes, Bill Denbrough in his lettermen jacket is stupid… stupidly hot, even if you hate admitting that.

“I’m n-not-“

“Are you sure?” You defy him, resting your hands on the machine and accidentally hitting the joystick. “So you’re telling me you’ve not been leering me around, casually hanging out with your friends by my locker or… Following my ex-boyfriend around to make sure he’s not coming close to me, Bill?”

Touché.

You never called him ‘Bill’ before, but thought it would match the soft-turn your voice takes and the little ‘got you’ move you just made. Bill thinks it raises a level. He said he didn’t come to play, but it feels like he did and now he’s losing because you know something you shouldn’t.

You know last Tuesday he followed Patrick Hockstetter’s car because he saw them harassing you when you were walking home after school. He watched when they pulled over by the sidewalk, Bowers leaning out through the window and saying something that made you argue with him for a while before you kept walking and they drove out. Bill should’ve turned right and drive home, but he turned left and followed them instead, made sure they went home and not after you.

“I was just trying to m-muh-make sure you were safe,” he reasons but inside he’s recognizing his failure.

Maybe you’ll call him a creeper for that? No, you just bat your eyelashes.

“You really have an unforgiving hero complex.”

“I don’t have a hero complex.”

He does. And maybe an unforgiving crush too because he realizes you’re not the one hovering here. He is. He always thought he never paid attention to you but he did all the time in the deep of his head, dreary by the fact that you ended up with someone like that disgusting jerk.

“A hero complex and a huge neglect towards yourself, apparently” you bicker, the changes in his mind showing briefly in his expression.

“Okay, I m-may be the one m-messing around but you don’t seem like you’re trying to run from it.”

The others have already warned Bill about that, his lack of fear and his broken anti dumbness filter, mainly Beverly, but there he is again. Making dangerous, uncalculated moves, totally improvising his next step to avoid a checkmate from you.

He’s kinda angry, maybe embarrassed, eyes locked on your as he comes closer. You don’t answer because he got a point. From the moment you noticed Bill paying more attention to you after you were publicly free from Henry, you never intended on cutting him off. You fed the fire and now, with his eyes so deep in yours and the smell of his cologne all around you, you let him taste a bit of power to decrease that embarrassment of his.

“Are you trying to imply that I want you too?” You whisper, no need to talk louder with his chest an inch from yours like that.

He likes how beautiful you look like that, face shining in verdigris tones flashing from the next machine, the way it turns you into neon pink and back to the blueish-green. He likes how daring you look even if he’s towering over you, inches taller, little knowing how you’re putting on a fight to keep yourself solid and your thoughts in place. Without much success when he leans in and brushes his chapped lips along your soft ones.

“Again, you wish, l/n.”

The previous moves were yours but in a turn, you’re the one getting the final checkmate when you give in and pull him into a kiss. A greedy and heated kiss that showed how you’ve been craving each other. Bill presses against you as he’s trying to challenge the laws of physics, his tongue licking into your mouth as your hands clutch on his thick jacket, feeling his broad shoulders underneath. His hands cup your face, his thumbs gently tracing up your cheekbones in contrast to how roughly his lips take yours, only for a moment before his arms embrace your waist and he smugly slides a large hand into your jeans’ pockets.

He swore himself he wouldn’t play your game, but he feels like he did and just lost it when he leaves your lips and trails the tip of his nose down your neck, feeling how you softly quiver in his arms, breathing in your perfume. Pulling away before everything goes to waste.

“As I said, totally n-not running away from me,” he mutters, leaving you.

You shake your head slowly, a mazy little smile glued on your lips. “Screw you, Denbrough…” But the words drip out like honey to him as he walks backwards towards the door.

Bill turns the keys still in the lock behind his back, flashing a cocky grin at you as he pushes the door open. He feels defeated, you do too but somehow none of you regret what just happened in the empty arcade. He can see you don't by the way you look at him as he leaves. It’s not just one of those glances anymore.

He feels defeated, but maybe it will be worth it.

“S-see you later, y/n.”

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