#i have this weird thing where sometimes when i'm especially tired i slip into more formal language despite having like half a brain capacity

[batcave-dinosaur]

Okay, so I said I'd write a post in response to the last post I reblogged because I had a lot of thoughts, which I do, but don't expect these to be particularly well-thought out, I just wanted to get them down somewhere lmao

I've always personally enjoyed the headcanon of Cass using ASL because I'm a very intro learner of the language. I'm also not a huge fan of the whole "magically-given English ability" thing, but that's mostly because I come from a linguistics and psychology background and find Cass to be a pretty interesting hypothetical. A few people in the notes of that post pointed out there are some pretty racist implications of the Asian girl not being allowed/able to speak (allowed in the Doylist sense, able in the Watsonian), which I hadn't considered before.

Part of me headcanoning her as using ASL was also based on my knowledge of language deprivation being unfortunately common in deaf children born to hearing parents. However, I failed to account for the actual effects of that language deprivation, and I admittedly have yet to read Batgirl (2000) [boos and tomatoes are thrown] I know I know it's high up on my list, but I didn't realize she canonically resists language use and learning unless necessary, which makes sense considering it's something she's spent most of her life without And it's gotta be incredibly frustrating for her to try and work with because of it.

I agree with the folks saying she'd probably pick up iconic signs pretty easily (iconic just meaning they visibly resemble what they represent) and she'd be able to memorize individual units pretty easily, but the specifics of grammar would escape her. Honestly I feel like I need to be reading some papers on language deprivation, but I know it's also one of those things that's very hard to research outside of case studies because it's obviously very unethical to induce. Other things I hadn't considered before, but I do like the idea of her using an AAC (Augmentative and Alternative Communication) device, especially at first since I imagine her vocal chords wouldn't be in very good shape after so many years of disuse. It would be neat to see people feature that and speech therapy for her in fics.

Anyway this was just a bit of a ramble, but if anybody ever wants to discuss any of this with me, my asks are always open :) I love language I love language headcanons for my favourite little guys

[electricbluebutterflies]

38 relieved kisses for Abbott/Mohan (idk their ship name)

Somewhere post-s1, PG-ish. {Will add crosspost link when I do it but I'm too tired to pick song lyrics for a comp.}

People talk.

First rule of any high-pressure environment. People bond and people talk. Samira is on the edge of finishing residency; Samira is well aware that these people are hers, and most of them love her, and-

If she takes five minutes she barely has to fall apart in the bathroom, well… shit happens. No harm done. It still gets out.

It happens at two hours until shift change, which means the chaos level stays at normal midweek like it should, and she’s off tomorrow, and it’s fine, really. The moment she forgets she has a heart will be the moment she walks away from this career she loves, she’s decided, and-

Of course, he’s early. That’s just her luck.

All she’s really got left unless some disaster happens in the next twenty minutes is the paperwork she hasn’t gotten to all day, which means she finally gets to be still for said twenty minutes. She’s been pushing herself lately – wants good references, when it matters, especially if…

The likelihood of staying in a city she couldn’t find on a map before she ended up here for residency is an existential crisis she’d rather have on a day off with a few blankets and her cat on top of her, but-

“Join me?”

“Paperwork.”

“It’ll still be there in five minutes. Your memory’s good enough.”

She hates that Jack is right. She hates the casual way he’s right too, like he’s just as aware where her strengths are as she is but he doesn’t have a damn reason to pretend otherwise and-

Fine. She hasn’t taken anything resembling an actual break all day. She envies the smokers sometimes – not that she’ll ever say that, but the structured habit makes sense even though she’ll never pick it up herself. Or the people who have partners and kids to call at certain times to check on, whereas she’s got… this, whatever it counts for.

What it counts for, today, is slipping up to the roof for some air. She’d never been up here before this flirtation started going somewhere, and honestly she’s never been that fond of heights, and-

Jack kisses her as soon as the access door shuts, and the only thing she can think is that someone clearly told him something.

She doesn’t say this just yet. She’s a little distracted. He’s cautious with her in a way that she likes, and maybe this is a questionable reaction to distress but it’s not a bad one, and-

“You’re bribing them for information,” she murmurs when she can, when she’s pretty sure she’s kissed at least one application of lip balm off him.

“Think it’s fair to know if my girlfriend’s having a weird day.”

“You know how I feel about that word.”

They’re not anything that serious, she’s pretty sure, but… she’s turning thirty in a few weeks. She’s staying, if not here than close enough to think about it. If she wants to be something with someone, she could do worse.

But they’re here now, she thinks as she takes more kisses, as she feels herself melt a little. They’re here now, and he spends most nights he’s not working at her place, and her cat doesn’t hate him, and-

“What did they tell you?” she asks when they break for air.

“Nothing that needs repeating.”

“It wasn’t a breakdown. I just needed to steady myself.”

“And that is about what they said, and-“

“You’re clinging,” almost a laugh.

“I worry.”

She’s done with kissing for now, but it’s easy enough to fold herself int her partner’s arms and rest her head on his shoulder. If he wants clinging, she can do that just as well, and-

“I’m fine.”

“I know.”

They linger there in silence for what feels like a decadent length of time, almost long enough that she forgets she has things to do before she can leave, almost-

“Okay if I come over in the morning?” he asks as they separate.

“You’re asking that now? You’re not coming back down with me?”

“I have ten more beautiful minutes before whatever chaos the night gives me. Let me enjoy it.”

Samira leans in and takes one more kiss, just a little too much. Ten minutes, she thinks, should be enough to get over whether she’s distracted him enough, and-

“Yeah. Let yourself in. Normal rules.”

“Make coffee and feed the cat because she just loves being woken up.”

“If I don’t have an alarm set, neither does she…”

“Go downstairs,” Jack says before they can distract each other again. “See you in the morning.”

“Don’t do anything I’ll hear about day after tomorrow.”

“Nurses don’t like me like they like you.”

Sure they don’t, Saira thinks as she takes her time down the stairs. If the fondness wasn’t comparable, he wouldn’t be getting status updates on her headspace from other people, and maybe that should bother her in some way it doesn’t, and…

Just in case, when she walks out of the hospital thirty minutes later – after doing paperwork perfectly, and after some really satisfying unplanned PDA – she makes sure her phone volume is all the way up. Just in case.

{Nothing happens. In the morning, she wakes up to too-strong coffee and multiple stories about improvised sex toys gone wrong.}

{Samira is starting to think that working night shift elsewhere – at a hospital across a county line, no ethical weirdness – might not be such a bad idea, if that position stays open long enough for her to apply.}

[obeyme-life]

I curse almost daily. It’s really a bad habit but that’s how I express myself. But a lot of people say it’s weird since I’m a really friendly and kind person. Can you do a headcanon for mc who curses a lot despite having a upbeat and friendly personality and how Simeon, Solomon, and the demon brother think about it. I also love your account! :-)

Since you're on anon I have to fight the urge to make this NSFW, but I really like this prompt!

* * SOME STRONG LANGUAGE * *

HC: Cussin' MC x The Brothers/Simeon/Solomon

Lucifer

Lucifer finds himself reminding you daily that the language is both inappropriate and unwelcome—at least around the others. Especially the more impressionable of his brothers... *cough cough* Mammon *cough*.

He would never admit it, but he finds it oddly endearing when you're alone together. He loves that you're comfortable enough with him to not concern yourself with changing.

Sometimes when you're alone together in his room, he'll slip in a swear word or two himself while flirting with you. "What should we do today?" "We can do whatever the fuck we want to, MC.~"

Mammon

You're so cool. Seriously. His human is edgy and carefree and it makes him smile in that lop-sided, lovey way when he's daydreaming about you.

He'll try to slip swear words into his own conversation to impress you, but usually gets reprimanded by Lucifer. He's also kind of unnatural and awkward about it, which comes across pretty charming and cute actually.

Leviathan

He usually isn't bothered by it, but he gets annoyed sometimes when you let the F word slip while he's streaming. Don't you know he could get a warning or, worse yet, banned!?

It kind of makes you sound tsundere sometimes, and that definitely makes his kokoro go doki doki. Especially if you're in cosplay.

Satan

He's appalled at first. That's certainly one way to make the most of the human language... In an abusive sort of way. It grows on him though, and soon he finds it cute and, often, funny—but only when it's you.

He's always careful to remind you of your language when you visit places like the library or museum though. He doesn't do it maliciously, but rather in a caring way to make sure you don't accidentally get in trouble. He wouldn't want your date outing to end prematurely.

Asmodeus

He likes to comment on your dirty mouth, wearing a coy grin as he does. He simply laughs when you roll your eyes at him.

The swearing really doesn't bother him at all, he rarely notices. However, he does wonder if there are scenarios where you'd swear even more... Or louder.

Beelzebub

He's surprised that someone so cute can talk like that so casually! He'd never comment on it though, and he soon gets used to it. It's just another part of you, and he likes all of the things that make you, well, you!

He'd pick up on your habit unintentionally, much to Belphie's amusement. It wouldn't slip out quite as easily as it does for you, but now and then, while snacking, you'd get a "this is really fucking good!" or "somehow Solomon's cooking can even make my favorite food taste like shit." out of him! And he'd always blush about it.

Belphegor

Belphie is the only one who swears more than you do. He doesn't even bat an eye at the words you choose.

He likes to get you excitedly talking in places you shouldn't swear, partly for his own amusement and partly for Lucifer's dismay.

He also likes to use your own swear words back at you, but in a really cute way of pointing it out. "Wanna nap, Belphie? I'm really fucking tired." "You're really fucking cute, is what you are."

Simeon

You will not speak like that in God's house. And all houses are God's house.

He blushes when you use strong language, often putting a finger to his lips in a silent reminder to you to be mindful—especially around Luke.

Solomon

Most of the time he just takes it as what it is—the way you choose to express yourself. He finds it pretty cute when you're really excited about something though. You're entirely unaware of yourself and it's refreshing for someone to be so carefree around him.

Sometimes he'll tease you about it. If you're practicing spells with him he'll joke about the repercussions of replacing Latin F-words with that F-word. His eyes are affectionate though—he's just picking on you. Or maybe... Flirting? Now that's an interesting F-word to consider.

[ultimate-cinephile]

Can I PLEASE request some Viktor Licht fluff!! I'm completely obsessed with this little weirdo and cannot get enough 💕 I loved your kissing headcanon's btw

You 100% can! I've been wanting someone to request for a month now. Tysm Nonnie!!

And I'm glad you enjoyed them! Also, I had no idea what to do for a plot, so I decided to do this again seeing as how I had a lot of fun with Joker's.

VIKTOR LICHT FLUFF ALPHABET

A- Attractive (What do they find attractive about the other?)

He definitely admires that you don't judge him for anything. You completely understand that he's devoted to his mission (and you of course, but you didn't hear that from me) and you understand why he does what he does, and he absolutely adores it.

B- Baby (Do they want a family? Why or why not?)

In truth, I don't think he thinks about having a family much. He most definitely wouldn't mind having one in the long run (especially with you), but you'd have to be the one to bring it up.

C- Cuddle (How do they cuddle?)

Viktor loves spooning. By the time he goes to bed, you're usually asleep, so he crashes into bed next to you and pulls your back to his chest and he just sort of curling you because he's that tall. It's quite comfortable for the both of you.

D- Dates (What are dates with them like?)

It takes Viktor awhile to get used to the idea of dates. His idea of a date was just two people spending time together. So for awhile, you two just sat in his office while he worked. Then he did some research (watched some romance movies with maki and iris; he r e a l l y liked The Proposal) and decided to take you out on a proper date.

This being said, dates with Viktor are usually a spur of the moment thing and happen when you both have time, but they almost always open you up to a new experience and they're always fun. Sometimes you do something crazy like going to a casino for no reason and sometimes you do something peaceful like just walking around the city and sight-seeing and window shopping and all that cool jazz.

E- Everything (You are my ___; e.g. my life, my world)

"You are my reason for everything. You remind me everyday why I do what I do. Thank you."

F- Feelings (When did they know they were in love?)

It was just after Company 8 finished an Infernal. You had slipped away from the rest of the group and Viktor, being the curious boi he is, went after you. He found you comforting a crying child.

It turns out that the kid's parent had been the one to turn Infernal, and you refused to leave their side until they we laughing and smiling again.

Something about that made his heart melt.

He had no idea what was going on and later googled his symptoms (after consulting any sort of reliable medical book/website he could find) and nearly had a heart attack when he found out what it was.

G- Gentle (Are they gentle? If so, how so?)

Viktor isn't really a rough man. It's just his nature (I want to make fun of him for being a pacifist, but I can't because I'm one D:<).

Anyways, he isn't overly gentle with you either. He knows that you're more than capable of handling certain things by yourself and he's happy to let you do those things, but if he sees you struggling, he won't hesitate to help you out.

H- Hands (How do they like to hold hands?)

He's very fond of linking pinkies. He's not a fan of PDA, but that doesn't make him uncomfortable and he likes holding you in some way. Though if he gets jealous, he wraps an arm around your waist (more on that later though).

I- Impression (What was their first impression?)

Well, since you are a part of the Fire Force (sorry to just assign you a role like this) he naturally thought you were a bit reckless, running into fires like that, but he can't really judge since he kinda did the same thing.

J- Jealousy (Do they get jealous?)

Oh, he does. He's much better at hiding it than Joker. Licht is very rarely intimidating, and the man cannot glare to save his life. A telltale sign that he's jealous is that he gets more affectionate in front of others. He'll wrap his arm around your waist and pull your back into his chest while resting his chin on the top of your head.

K- Kiss (How do they kiss? Who initiated the first kiss?)

Even though they're an expression of friendship, he adores eskimo kisses (when he can bend down to your height) or he likes gently kissing the top of your forehead.

Even though kisses with Licht are usually short-lived, they always communicate how much you mean to him and the words that he so often can't find to say himself.

You 100% had to initiate the first kiss. He was staying up late to work on something and you had to go to sleep or else you'd pass out on the floor so in your tired stupor you gave him a quick good-night peck to the lips.

He did not get any work done the rest of the night.

L- Love (Who says ‘I love you’ first?)

Surprisingly??? Viktor.

Just before he goes to the Haijima lab with Shinra (i'm waiting on the dub, but i sWEAR IF THEY KILL HIM-), you run up to him and kiss him.

"I swear to Sol, Licht, if you die there, I'm gonna kill you. I love you too much to loose you."

Shinra probably had to slap him cause Viktor.exe had crashed.

M- Memory (What’s their favorite memory together?)

You and him were watching the Sound of Music, and you, being a dork, pulled him to his feet and started dancing around the room with him. Both of you fell back on your bed, laughing like a couple of idiots.

N- Nickel (Do they spoil? Do they buy the person they love everything?)

Sometimes. He buys you stuff a lot, and sometimes if he's out in town and he sees something he knows that you'd like, he'll 100% get it for you. He loves seeing you happy and he's more than willing to spare a dollar or two to see you smile.

O- Orange (What color reminds them of their other half?)

Red. The first time you two had a proper conversation, you had accidentally cut your finger while cutting up something for dinner. He offered to help you after he saw you cursing yourself and wrapping your injured finger in a bandage.

P- Pet Names (What pet names do they use?)

I feel like Viktor isn't big on pet names but he sometimes calls you 'love'.

Q- Quaint (What is their favorite non-modern thing?)

Okay so, this is gonna sound weird, but he has a genuine fountain pen that belonged to some famous writer. He's quite proud of it.

R- Rainy Day (What do they like to do on a rainy day?)

He loves to work on rainy days. He loves it if you sit there and watch him or if you sit in his lap. If you manage to drag him away, he'll do anything with you. Sometimes, just for the heck of it, he takes you outside and you two just walk around with an umbrella shielding you from becoming drenched.

S- Sad (How do they cheer themselves/others up?)

Viktor just stirs his problems into coffee. He has no idea how to solve his own problems, so he has no idea what he's doing if he comforts you. He usually just lets you cry and rant and scream until you feel better. He'll hold you in his lap if you want. He has no idea what to do, please help him.

T- Talking (What do they like to talk about?)

Viktor will gladly talk about his research or if you manage to get him to watch something with you, he'll geek out about that with you. It's so cute watching him freak out about the ending to Rogue One, it isn't even funny.

U- Unencumbered (What helps them relax?)

A nice, hot cup of coffee or tea and you

V- Vaunt (What do they like to show off?)

His fountain pen, you, sometimes his research

W- Wedding (Where, when, and how do they propose?)

It takes him awhile to even consider marriage. Honestly? It takes him long enough that you propose!

It was on a leap day, since that's traditionally the day a woman can propose, you had a nice ring in your back pocket. You tried seven times in one day to propose, but every time you got ready to pop the question, something would come along and you had to wait a minute.

Eventually you just got fed up with going through reports so you asked Licht then. He thought you were kidding when he said yes, but then you chucked a box and his head and he'd never been more happy for a mix-up in his life.

X- Xylophone (What’s their song?)

I know it doesn't ask for a relationship song, but the only song coming to mind right now is The Reason by Hoobastank.

Y- Yes (Do they ever think of getting married/proposing?)

As I said before, he doesn't really think about it until after you get engaged. After that though, he admires the ring with a smile as he counts down the days until you're married.

Z- Zebra (If they wanted a pet, what would they get?)

Well, animals are uncommon, but once Vulcan showed him a picture of a gerbil. He has no idea what it is, but he wants one.

okay! that's it! i hope you enjoy it Nonnie!

[softsebnbuckystan]

Souls ties - Part 3 (Bucky Barnes au)

"I had all and then most of you

Some and now none of you

Take me back to the night we met"

The sun had set a while ago and the band had been replaced by speakers, meaning the party was coming to an end, even though you still hadn't properly talked to Bucky. You  knew you probably should've payed more attention to your own husband but Darren seemed to enjoy himself more around his college friends. It would've driven you mad, had it been a regular party. Oddly enough, his behaviour that night didn't bother you as much as it should've. One might say your attention was elsewhere. It was late, and you were thirsty for water after all the champagne and hors-d'oeuvres you'd had. You were positive your rosy cheeks attested for it. At the bar, you took a minute for yourself and sat down, taking this occasion to relieve your feet from your high-heel shoes. The night's fresh air made the hair on your neck stand on end and your body's instinct was to shiver, even though the weather was still quite nice. Your body tensed up as you felt a presence at your side.

"Feeling a little tired there?" he asked. You were starting to know this voice now, and it was like music to your ears.

"I needed to be away from the crowd for a moment," you confessed.

"Oh, I can leave if you want."

This made you look at him instantly. "No, stay." You realised how pressing you must've sound and chuckled at his confused eyes – which had a beautiful shade of blue in the moonlight. "I mean...I didn't want to get away  from you, specifically. Sorry if it sounded that way."

"I'd get it, you know," Bucky said. "What happened earlier..."

"...was disturbing for us both, I assume."

Bucky didn't say anything about you interrupting him. It felt natural, actually, almost like finishing his sentence rather than rudely stopping him mid-speech.  "Yeah, exactly," he continued. "I'm really sorry if that caused you...any pain or something."

"What? The coffee?" you asked naïvely. "Don't worry, it wasn't that hot," you said with a wink.

A faint smile appeared on Bucky's lips, making you notice both how he hadn't smiled much until then and that it lightened up his face in a touching way.

"I meant pain as in fear, or anxiety. Your wedding mustn't be the place you expected to hear those words." He looked you in the eyes and you  shivered once more. "Are you cold?"

You shook your head no before looking down to your knees. His eyes on you were making you  feel all sorts of ways you wouldn't dream of sharing with anyone. "No, I'm not," you said. Taking a careful breath in, you decided to glance at him. Your eyes paused at the same time as your lungs, taken away by the beauty of the man's face. Something behind his blue iris was beyond description and drove you even more eager to get to know him, his story, his passions and pet-peeves, his everything. He'd seemed to have stopped breathing for a second as well, but you weren't entirely sure it hadn't been a figment of your imagination.

"Maybe we should go back to the others," you whispered. You tried getting off your stool and slipped next to your shoe. Bucky moved fast to grab you with his arm and prevent you from hitting the ground. His grip was firm –  exaggeratedly firm. You brushed off the sensation of his leather glove on your back and thanked him hastily before going back to Steve.

"Are you okay?" he asked, lowering his voice.

"Yeah, sure." You knew he wasn't fooled by your answer ; Steve knew you better than you knew yourself. Bucky stayed silent for a while after that, and neither of you seemed to fathom what to do next.

---

"Ready to go, honey?"

You opened surprised eyes at Darren's question. It was barely past midnight.

"Darren, we can't leave before the other guests, c'mon..."

Your husband looked disappointed and now that most of your shock had gone away, his attitude was slowly driving you mad, especially when you gave deeper thought to his actions and words throughout the day.

"Do you even want to be here at all?" you asked him, somewhat dryly.

"Calm down, y/n. We've been here forever and I wanna rest for the night. Is that too much to ask?"

"Resting on your wedding night? Yeah,  that's a lot to ask for," you replied. "I thought we were going to party until the end and have fun with our friends before going home. Consensual marriage is supposed to be celebrated, don't you know that? Ugh, you really are a buzzkill sometimes."

"Wow, easy there. If you want to stay,  fine. But I'm going home."

"Are you serious right now?" Your stomach was burning with anger and disappointment. You loved Darren, but this kind of behaviour had become a habit of his. "You're going to leave me alone at our wedding party?"

"You're not alone, you have Steve and Wanda and...whoever that guy is over there. Enjoy the rest of your night."

"Damn it, Darren, that's not fair!"

Wanda's eyes turning towards you made you realise how loud your voices had been and you lowered yours a notch.

"Fine, go home. But don't expect me to be all smiles when I join you, if I even do."

Upon those words, you turned around and walked away from him. You were perfectly aware that there was no point in reasoning with him at this point. You ended up going back to your group and were surprised to see that Steve and Wanda had walked away as well, leaving Bucky alone.

"Where are they  going?" you asked, still angry from what'd just happened.

"They're grabbing more drinks. Wanda said she'd choose something for you since you were...busy."

You brought your hand to your forehead, ashamed that he'd heard you losing your temper.

"Sorry about that. He's just...difficult, sometimes."

"I saw that," he said with his hands in his pockets, "and no need to be sorry." You could see him take a deep breath in before he kept talking, even  though he was trying hard to look as calm and composed as possible. "Come, let's take a walk. It'll help you blow off some steam."

You followed Bucky through the garden and as you drifted away from the crowd, hearing less and less voices, a soothing feeling filled your body and mind. You took deep breaths in and deep breaths out, taking in the bucolic smell of the close-by forest. The only thing left bothering you were your shoes, and you made the call to take them off, leaning on Bucky's shoulder without even thinking about it. He stopped to let you do it.

"Here, let me hold them." He gently grabbed your shoes by the heels and carried them for the way.

"Thank you." You took a peek at him and smiled. "How did you know a walk would calm me down?"

"I...I  just did," he answered with a shrug. "Did it work?"

"It's starting to." You smiled at him ingenuously, taking in some of his features at the same time. The slight crook of his nose, the rebellious hair on his neck...  A question was burning your lips. It was just the two of you, so you might as well just ask. "Did you ever give much thought to what your tattoo said?"

He didn't seem taken aback by your question. At least you didn't think he was, even though his emotions were hard to read.

"Not really. I just assumed someone would pay me a compliment out of the blue  and confuse the hell out of me." He chuckled for the first time since you'd met him and you got a feeling that didn't happen often. He stopped quickly, as would a kid caught red-handed. "You?"

"I had lots of scenarios in my head. Someone bumping into me, stepping on my feet or even running me over with a car...I mean, that sentence could've been said at many occasions, really."

"It's true, though I don't think saying 'shit, I'm sorry' would be an appropriate apology after running somebody over with a car."

You laughed at his remark and nodded in agreement.

"True. It is only an appropriate apology for spilling coffee all over someone," you teased.

You couldn't even hear the music the speakers were playing anymore, only the insects buzzing and leaves brushing against each other. As you walked, you got dangerously closer to Bucky. You knew what your body was doing, where your legs were taking you, but you had no idea why  they were doing it. You shouldn't have been standing so close to him, especially on your wedding night. Your hand accidentally brushed against his leather glove and he moved away. His movement wasn't big enough to call it an act of repulsion, but you also didn't know why exactly he didn't want to be close to you.

"I'm sorry," you said. "I just..."

"...want to be close. I know." He sighed and stopped walking. "It's a weird feeling and I didn't think you...I thought you weren't feeling it."

"What? The feeling that draws me to you and that I can't control? Of course I feel that. I've...I've met you hours ago, and yet..."

"You feel a connection that dates to much longer than that," he finished.

"Exactly. I couldn't really put words on it but...yeah. That's what it feels like."

"I'm sorry," he said. "Steve wanted me to come here for some reason and I..."

"Don't say you shouldn't have come, please."

He looked back at you and saw you'd been staring at your feet saying that sentence. His face changed in an instant.

"I didn't mean to hurt you. Not at all, actually... If I hadn't been there tonight, you might have actually enjoyed your wedding."

"I did enjoy it," you replied in a hurry. "Just not the way I imagined." You stared into his eyes,  trying to understand what he was feeling in this very moment. "We'll see each other again, right?"

"That might not be a good idea, as much as I would want to."

"But...as my sister always tells me, soulmates don't have to be romantic. I can be happily married and still get to know you....can I?"

He tightened his lips, thinking about his answer. His face gave you no clue as to what he truly wanted, but the answer he gave you might have been an indication.

"You can try. I can try."

---

Part 3 is where I chose to start the fluff haha! I hope you enjoyed this part. It felt quite cute writing it, so I hope the final result is :)

tag list:

@ginger-swag-rapunzel

[cocastyle]

Change - Ch. 2 | O N E

Pairing - Bill Denbrough x reader

Word Count - 13,258

A/N - super long beginning chapter for this half of the series but one hundred percent necessary! I didn’t want to split up the part where each person gets their phone calls, so I decided to make it one long chapter to kick the second movie rewrite off. I am beyond excited for what’s to come and I really hope you all enjoy this rewrite!

if you would like to be added to the tag list for this series let me know!

C H A N G E

Change Series Masterlist

* - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - *

O N E - Beginning of the End

* - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * - *

Memory. It's a funny thing.

People want to believe they are what they choose to remember—the good stuff, the moments, the places, the people we all hold onto. But sometimes. . .sometimes we are what we wish we could forget.

The thing is sometimes what we wish was forgotten, what we tried to leave in the past, won't stay there. Sometimes it comes back for you.

- - -

Bill Denbrough stared blankly at his computer screen, watching as the cursor blinked repeatedly as he had yet to type a word other than the setting which was 'attic' on the paper. A copy of his latest book titled The Attic Room sat beside his computer, little slips of paper sticking out from different pages he had marked down and made notes on.

A knock on his trailer door was what finally snapped the man out of his thoughts, lifting his head in the direction of the door in a tired manner as if he wasn't quite sure if the knock was real or not. When the door suddenly opened up, Bill was quick to sit up and nod his head forward, the action causing his glasses to fall from his forehead and back onto his nose as he pretended to be typing away. "Mr. Denbrough," a soft voice said and Bill glanced over to see a woman a little younger than him with short blonde hair and a headset, "they need you on set."

It took all of Bill's willpower not to look at all surprised when he was practically screaming inside of his head. Already? Hadn't he only just sat down to write? How long had he been sitting there? Glancing at his watch, Bill swallowed thickly once he realized he had been sitting there for hours now, the day already almost over by now.

Bill could feel the woman's eyes still on him and he was quick to plaster a fake smile on his face as he looked to her and gave her a short nod. That seemed to be enough of an answer for her and she disappeared outside leaving Bill to collect his things as he tiredly took his glasses off his face.

His eyes instantly flickered to his computer and he put both hands on his face before dragging them down with a small sigh. Bill reached out and shut the computer without another thought about it and grabbed the computer and copy of his book before hurrying out of his trailer where the woman was waiting for him.

"We're just going to go this way," the woman said as she began to walk Bill towards one of the many buildings on the Warner Bros property.

Bill was trying his best not to seem as nervous as he was, gripping onto his book and computer tight enough with one hand that his other could relax peacefully by his side. He felt queasy and for a moment he wondered if he was going to be sick. He hadn't felt this nervous in a long time and Bill thought to himself about the last time he had been this nervous if not more.

For just a second it was like a image of startling e/c eyes flashed through his head, but it had vanished before he could grasp it. The image was gone as quick as it had came and Bill had no clue what he had even been thinking about in the first place.

A small frown began to make its way onto Bill's face, but it was quickly replaced by a panicked look once he saw the garage door to the set beginning to fall closed. His eyes widened and he jogged past the woman who shouted after him, but he ignored her and was quick to slide under the door just as it was closing.

"Hey, use the door!" a man exclaimed as he pointed towards the regular door that Bill could've easily walked through. "Come on! You never seen Indiana Jones?" Bill questioned, his eyebrows furrowing at the man. It had only been a joke, something to get his heart bumping in an excited and adventurous way instead of the nervous beating his heart had encountered moments before.

"Watch it!" another voice exclaimed and Bill was quick to stop in his tracks as a man walked past him with a container of props rolling across the floor. Bill shook his head slightly, already overwhelmed, and began to make his way across the room and over to where he assumed the director would be.

"Hey, hey, you a member?" a man asked, but Bill was barely able to register what he said as he walked past him. "Hmm? I'm. . .the writer," Bill finally managed to get out before he walked onto set.

Instead of finding the director, Bill was met with another sight that made him even more uncomfortable then he already was. "Bill," Audra Phillips, the leading lady of the movie who also happened to be his ex-wife, greeted him. "Hey."

He had been married to Audra for eight years before the two had ended things a year back. In all honesty, Bill wasn't quite sure why he had married the woman in the first place. He had thought he loved her, but the moment she had asked for a divorce he could only describe having felt one emotion—relief. Their marriage hadn't ended badly and there had been no problems. It was just two people simply falling out of love with each other. Audra had even started to date a co-star she had met a few months back and Bill was happy for her. After all, he had come to the realization that Audra wasn't the girl for him. He had a feeling like there was someone out there for him and the crazy thing was that he felt like he had already met her, but that she was lost. Weird, right?

Bill and Audra weren't exactly friends per say and only saw each other as business partners, knowing that neither one would be able to survive in their business without a mutual agreement between the two. However, Bill still couldn't help but think about how much he hated having to work the same movie with her.

"Do you have the pages?" Audra questioned, snapping Bill out of his thoughts as she took a step closer to him, her eyes staring intently at him in both a questioning and alarmed manner. Bill hesitated and it was then that Audra's eyes widened. However, neither got a chance to say anything before the director was suddenly lowering his seat down in between the two, his gaze on Bill.

"My friend," the director Peter began, looking to Bill in exasperation, "a film needs an ending. You do know that right?" "Oh, yeah," Bill replied, looking to Peter in slight disbelief. However, he couldn't blame him for asking. Bill had a tendency to procrastinate when it came to writing especially when it was something like this where they wanted him to change the ending of his book.

"You said that you needed another day to finish the pages and we're shooting this thing. It's tonight," Audra told him, her eyes still on Bill as she spoke in an accusing tone. "It's been seventeen hours," Bill muttered, but no one seemed to be listening to him.

"Everybody calm down, okay?" Peter said, his eyes flickering between the two as if he were afraid they would begin to fight. Despite their business agreement, Audra and Bill had been known to argue on more than one occasion and it was obvious Peter did not want to see another one of those. "I'm calm," Bill told him, unsure as to where Peter could see any hostility in what he was saying.

"I want you to be happy with the movie, you understand? I'm on your side," Peter insisted. "That's. . .that's great. Cause in my book the ending-" Bill began. "Is terrible," Peter finished with no regret or hesitation. Bill blinked in surprise and looked to the director with furrowed eyebrows. "With all due respect, people love your book. Love! But they hated the ending."

"You said you liked the ending," Bill said, looking a little defeated as he studied the man in front of him. Did people really hate his endings? "That was a lie," Peter told him bluntly while Audra glanced to Bill in a way that seemed to hold just a tad bit of sympathy. "We got to do better, okay?" Bill was hesitant before looking down at the ground and nodding his head. "Yeah," he breathed out, although he wasn't sure what to think.

"Audra, you have my notes. Could you-?" Peter questioned as he gestured towards Bill causing the man to look up and over at Audra in surprise while she nodded in response. "Thank you very much. Could you take me back to-"

Before Bill could even hear the rest of his sentence, Peter was gone and back into the film leaving Bill and Audra standing there. "You have his notes?" Bill finally questioned, turning to look at his ex wife in disbelief. “He's not wrong," Audra sighed. "You hate my endings too?" Bill asked surprised, having never heard in their eight years of marriage that she hated his endings. In fact, she had praised him on multiple occasions. Had a year of them not being married changed her perspective that much?

"Not all your endings. This just-" Audra admitted while Bill's eyes widened and he turned to walk away. Audra was quick to follow after him, knowing that he had to get the pages done in order for this movie to be finished. "What? Do you want me to keep lying to you just because we used to-" "Be married?" Bill questioned as he looked back at the women. "No, no. You just. . .you been blowing smoke up my ass for eight years? I guess I thought you were someone else."

"I have not been blowing smoke up your ass," Audra said, a look of anger crossing her face as she stopped beside Bill who was at the catering table.

"Everybody wants a happy ending. Everybody wants closure, but it's not the way life works out," Bill insisted, hesitating slightly as he felt his heart ache. For a moment he thought he felt something poking his brain, a memory begging to be let out. But it was gone just as fast as the image from earlier and he was already forgetting about it.

"I think what Peter wants and what the studio wants-" Audra began only for Bill to snap his head in her direction. "The studio?" he questioned, even more surprised than before now that he knew that everyone seemed to be talking about his book and how much the ending sucked. "When did you become the company? You're an artist. Come on. What's wrong with doing it the way it's written? The way I want it? What's wrong with being the woman I want you to be?"

Audra's eyes widened a little in anger and she gritted her teeth before saying, "Fuck you, Bill!"

"On the page," Bill sighed, not having meant it the way Audra was taking it, but it seemed the woman didn't care. "The part I mean. Not you. I don't even care about you in that way." Audra's eyes widened even more in anger and Bill swore she was about to slap him. "Shit, that came out wrong."

Bill's cell ringing was what finally saved him from himself and he went to fish his phone out of his pocket while Audra sent a glare at him before walking away. He didn't even bother yelling after her for he knew there was no point. She wouldn't want to listen and they would just end up arguing more than they just had.

Turning back to the food table so that Bill wouldn't have to acknowledge the eyes that were staring at him from all around the movie set, the man glanced at his phone to see that it was a call coming from Derry, Maine. Bill got that same feeling once again, like there was something he was missing, but he pushed it aside and instead exited out of one of the back doors so that he woundn't disrupt filming.

"Hello?" Bill questioned as he put the phone to his ear, confused as to who could be calling him that lived in Derry, Maine. "Bill Denbrough?" a deep voice said, a voice that Bill did not recognize at all. "It's Mike." Bill furrowed his eyebrows, still not knowing who this person was. "Mike who?" Bill asked.

"Mike Hanlon."

It took Bill a moment to even register what the man had said and it was in that moment that he stopped in his tracks. The nervousness he had felt earlier about talking to Peter and Audra was nothing compared to the feeling he was suddenly getting.

It was like his whole body had gone cold, so cold in fact that he was numb to all other sensations. All he could hear was a ringing in his ears before it was quickly overpowered by his heartbeat that had begun to race so fast despite Bill not knowing why. His breathing picked up its pace ever so slightly and Bill didn't even register his hand which had started to shake as it held onto his phone.

Fear, that was what he felt. But for what? He was unsure.

"From Derry."

And it was then that Bill was brought back to reality, wincing slightly as he suddenly got a flashback of a young dark skinned boy smiling at him. He had to have been thirteen years old and the image of the boy plus the name Mike Hanlon and the connection of Derry were enough for Bill to remember who it was he was talking to.

How had he been able to forget about Mike? They had been best friends up until the day Bill had moved away and for a moment Bill remembered having promised to keep in touch with Mike only to realize he never had. Now why was that?

A few more memories flashed through Bill's head and it felt as if he couldn't breath as he remembered his thirteen year old self sitting in a circle with the people who had all been his best friends—Stanley Uris, Mike Hanlon, Ben Hanscom, Beverly Marsh, Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak, and Y/N Uris.

Bill felt like he had just gotten a punch to the gut at that last name, his eyes widening as he suddenly saw an image of Y/N Uris standing before him in a field. Her h/c hair blowing gently in the wind, her e/c eyes glistening under the rays of the sun while she sent him one of those effortless smiles of hers that used to make him feel as if he were going to have a heart attack.

You make me happy, Bill Denbrough.

Y/N Uris.

Now how the hell could he forget about her?

Before Bill could think of her much longer, his hand suddenly began to flare up in pain. The man winced and was quick to look down at his hand and at a scar that ran along his palm, a scar that he didn't remember having until that very moment. And all he could do was stare at the scar while Mike's voice rang in his ear.

"You need to come home."

- - -

"Eddie, I keep telling you not to scare me like this and you never listen to me," Myra Kaspbrak complained over the speaker of the car while a shaky hand reached for the glove compartment to pull out a container of pills.

"Alright, Myra!" Eddie Kaspbrak exclaimed, knowing that there was no other way to gain the attention of his wife unless his voice was louder than hers. He held the bottle of pills up to his lips and was quick to dump his doctor prescribed amount into his mouth. "Please not now."

"You shouldn't be out there," Myra insisted while Eddie huffed in annoyance low enough that she couldn't hear. "Eddie, it's not safe to drive when the roads are slick like this."

"Sweetheart, it stopped raining like three hours ago, alright? Everything's going to be fine," Eddie assured her before the honking of a cab gained his attention. The man was quick to look out the window and yell, "Hey, dickhead! Slow traffic mean anything to you?"

"What if you hydroplane?" Myra continued, ignoring Eddie's yells. "I'm not going to hydroplane," Eddie insisted, already feeling himself becoming more and more tense behind the wheel. He was trying to keep himself calm, but that was hard. How had he ever been able to calm his younger self down when there are people like Myra always yelling at him?

Taking in a deep breath, Eddie managed to keep his voice steady long enough to reply, "It is my job to assess risks so please trust me when I tell you that statistically speaking I am much more likely to get into an accident because I am talking to you on the phone! Alright? I have to go. I will talk to you soon. Goodbye."

Eddie didn't even give Myra time to respond before he was ending the call and he let out a small sigh of relief once it was over. However, he had barely even gotten the sigh out before his phone was ringing again.

Eddie was quick to press the answer button and, thinking it was a client, he said, "Edward Kaspbrak speaking." "You didn't say 'okay, bye, I love you' like you usually do," Myra's voice came through the speaker once again.

Eddie had to resist the urge to scream as he said, "Listen to me! I can't! I'm going to be late to this-" His phone began to ring again and he glanced down at the screen before falling quiet, his eyes locking onto the caller ID which read Derry, Maine. "-meeting."

Eddie felt as if someone had dunked a bucket of ice cold water on him, the cold seeping all the way down to his bones and making his whole body ache. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end and for the first time in a while he had the sudden urge to use his inhaler.

He was afraid, but what of?

But then he saw a flash of an image, a boy with thick rimmed glasses grinning at him as he nudged his side with his elbow. And then he was hearing a voice that didn't belong to the boy with glasses whisper into his ear, soft and so familiar despite the fact that he couldn't pinpoint why he remembered it.

Eds.

He had never been called Eds before to his knowledge, having always hated it since he was a child. So why did he suddenly hear a young girl's voice whispering it into his ear? And why was that enough to calm him down and make his fear disappear?

"Say 'I love you,' Eddie," Myra insisted, but Eddie was barely listening to her, his gaze still focused on the caller ID. "Okay. I love you, Mommy," Eddie muttered as if in a trance. "What?" Myra's voice said and that was enough to have Eddie snap out of it.

"Myra," he corrected before going to end the call. "Bye." Eddie didn't even hesitate to answer the call from Derry, but when it got to speaking, he found himself hesitating longer than he should've for an unknown reason.

"Hello?" Eddie finally said, his eyes staring warily at the screen as if that would answer all of his unknown questions. "Who is this?"

"It's me. Mike," a voice replied and Eddie gulped, his eyes still on the screen. "Mike who?" Eddie questioned nervously. He was too focused on the screen to notice that he ran a red light until honking was heard and a yellow cab hit the car from the side. Eddie's car came to a screeching stop as all air bags went off.

"Eddie, you okay?" Mike asked in a panic after hearing the crash from the other side of the line.

From under the air bag, Eddie's voice croaked out. "Yeah, I'm pretty good," Eddie replied although he had a feeling he was going to be anything but okay after this phone call.

- - -

Richie Tozier gripped onto the metal stair railing the best that he could as he puked over the side and onto the ground below. His whole body was shaking as he stood there feeling colder than he had ever felt before yet sweating to the point where his glasses began to slide down his nose.

He was sick once more over the side of the railing before he managed to glance at his phone which he had been on only moments before to answer a call from Derry, Maine. He hadn't known what to expect when answering it and had honestly thought either a fan had found his number or someone was calling to try and book him.

However nothing could prepare him for Mike Hanlon to be on the other end, a name he hadn't heard of in years and a boy he hadn't heard from in just as long. He hadn't even remembered the boy until Mike had said his full name, the name jogging something in Richie's mind as he remembered the homeschooler he used to be friends with.

It was then that Richie remembered the rest of his best friends who had all dawned the group name of the Losers Club and Richie realized he hadn't thought of them in what seemed like forever. In fact, he couldn't even remember half of the things they did together, but as the minutes ticked by he slowly began to remember his best friends who he had joked and messed around with until he was pretty sure the memories had gotten too much for him that he had been sick.

It had to be the memories, right? What else could it be?

"What the fuck?" a voice exclaimed behind him causing the man to stand up and look to see his manager standing at the door that led back into the club. "You were fine like five seconds ago. Who was it? Who called?"

Richie couldn't bring himself to say anything, his whole body still shaking violently as he gripped onto the metal railing. Why did he suddenly have a feeling like something was wrong? Was it because Mike told him he needed to come home? Was it because he felt guilty for having forgotten about the very friends he used to swear he would never forget about?

"Rich?" his manager said and for a moment Richie swore he heard the nickname said in what he distantly remembered as Eddie Kaspbrak's voice. "Rich?" there it was again, but this time it sounded like a girl. It took merely a second for Richie to identify it as Y/N Uris and he swore he grew paler, but why?

"Talk to me," his manager said and it was then that Richie began to snap out of it and stood up taller as he knew that neither Eddie or Y/N were here or even still thirteen years old. "You're on in two minutes," his manger announced as he handed Richie a rag which he quickly used to wipe his mouth. "You good? Cause you look not good."

In all honesty, Richie wasn't sure if he was good or not. He had forgotten about his best friends. Mike Hanlon had called telling him he needed to come home without any explanation why. His hand hurt like a bitch because of some scar he didn't remember having. And he had a sickening feeling in his gut which he could only describe as fear. But fear of what exactly?

"I'm fine," Richie insisted, quickly leaving the alleyway and walking back into the club. He couldn't think about Derry or the Losers any more especially not when he was supposed to be doing a show. Mike would just have to wait.

"You're fine? Good. Okay. And we're walking and we're walking," his manager muttered as he quickly stepped into line by Richie's side. "Sixty seconds," a stage manager announced to the pair. "Even faster," his manager said as he ushered Richie to pick up his pace, but Richie was struggling to even stand up right at this point. "Could you get him a bottle of water maybe?"

"Bourbon," Richie corrected, knowing he would need something a lot stronger to get through the show. "Bourbon?" his manager questioned before realizing Richie was serious and nodding to the stage manager to go. "Sure. Sure." "And a mint," Richie muttered as he grimaced at the taste in his mouth.

"Showtime," his manager said as they got closer to the stage, but Richie shook his head in distress. "I don't think I can do this," Richie admitted, feeling sicker by the second. His manager began to grumble behind him, but Richie was barely paying attention as someone was suddenly handing him a glass of bourbon and a container of mints. "That was fast."

Richie downed the drink almost instantly before popping multiple mints in his mouth. Knowing he had a crowd waiting for him, Richie took in a deep breath before walking over to the door that lead to the stage but that actually happened to be the emergency exit.

"This way," his manager corrected him, directing the man down a different hallway and through a different door. "Attaboy. Okay." "Alright, how do I look?" Richie questioned, his hands violently shaking the glass and a container of mints in his hands while he forced a smile onto his face.

His manager grimaced slightly and stared at Richie for a moment before sighing, "Yeah, your hands are shaking, Rich." Richie blinked in surprise before looking down at his hands to find that they were in fact shaking. "Shit," he muttered before quickly shoving the two items into his manager's hands. It was too late to do anything else, so the man began to walk towards the stage, slowly breathing in and out to try and calm his nerves.

"Ladies and gentlemen. Please welcome Richie Tozier!"

Richie was quick to put on a fake smile and raise his hand as he walked out on stage. The crowd began to clap and cheer, a sound that usually made Richie feel at home but tonight made him feel more alone and uncomfortable than ever.

Cursing himself slightly, Richie walked over to the microphone in the middle of the stage and took in a deep breath before smiling at the audience and beginning his routine, ignoring the slight shake of his hands that he was desperately trying to control.

"Alright, how we doin' today?" Richie questioned earning a roar of cheering from the audience. It was obvious that they couldn't tell he was nervous and that put Richie a little bit at ease.

"So my girlfriend caught me uh masterbating to her friend's Facebook page and uh. . .so now I'm in masterbaters anonymous," Richie said, reciting the lines he had read off of a script for the first time the night before. The crowd seemed to like it and laughed and that laughter only made Richie feel more at ease.

"And I stand up at the first meeting and I say 'my name is Richie Trashmouth-'" Richie stopped abruptly, his whole demeanor changing as he accidentally said the nickname that he been bestowed upon him when he was younger. He hadn't even remembered the nickname up until it slipped from his mouth. Where had that come from?

Oh okay, trash the trash-mouth, I get it, he distantly heard his thirteen year old voice say in his head although he couldn't remember why he was saying that or to whom.

In a blink of an eye the memory was gone and Richie could do nothing but stand there on stage with a blank expression, the joke completely gone from his head. In fact, he couldn't even seem to remember the rest of the script he had spent hours practicing.

"Trashmouth uh. . .I forgot the joke," Richie admitted while a whistle was heard from the crowd. Before long people had started to whisper, some even booed before a woman yelled out, "You suck!" Richie faked a smile at that before looking down at his feet. He was suddenly overcome with another wave of nausea and Richie couldn't help but think back to the phone call with Mike.

What the fuck had that phone call done to him?

- - -

"Thank you, ladies and gentlemen, for letting us present to you today," an employee of Hanscom & Associates said, his eyes flickering over the table before him before he gestured towards the building model on the table in front of them. "Now this will include over a million square feet of commercial and residential space-"

"What I'm really looking for is to understand how we create even more retail opportunities," another man at the table explained, his gaze steady and calculating. "If we put in walls here and all along here-“

"Lose them," a new voice said causing everyone in the room to look to the television screen which held a video conference call with the owner of the company himself. "With all due respect, Mr. Hanscom," the original man began, but Ben Hanscom was quick to correct him.

"Ben," he insisted as he leaned back a little in the office chair he had at home. "And with all due respect, I'm getting claustrophobic just looking at this model, aren't you? Look throw up more walls, it's gonna feel like a prison. You know what people want to do in prison? Get out, right? This should be a place that brings people together. A meeting ground."

Ben's eyes flickered down to his wallet and he gently reached for it before opening it up, his fingers brushing against an old folded piece of paper that was slightly sticking out with cursive handwriting just beginning to peak out behind the leather.

Ben rested his fingers against the paper and looked up thoughtfully as an image of a wooden room filled his thoughts, laughter of children echoing in his head as he distantly remembered a group of kids that had changed his life forever.

"Clubhouse," he whispered, his eyes glazing over as he got lost in thought. "And if, while people are there then-"

A small buzz pulled the man out of his thoughts and he trailed off as he looked to his right and at his phone sitting beside him. He froze at the sight of a number calling from Maine.

It was like time stood still and he was sure his face paled. For some reason he felt a sense of dread wash over him, like something was nagging at the back of his head telling him to either ignore the call completely and never think of it again or drop everything just to answer it.

He didn't know why, but it felt like his throat was beginning to close up, his heart thumping a little faster while a prickling feeling started from his toes before moving up the rest of his body. For the first time in Ben didn't know how long, he felt scared. But why? It was only a phone call? What was there to fear?

"Excuse me for one second," Ben said as he looked back at his computer before quickly pausing the video conference. "Hello?" Ben said as he stood up, his voice shaky although he wasn't sure why.

"Ben? It's Mike Hanlon from Derry."

- - -

Beverly Marsh awoke with a jolt, the feeling of something wet against her cheek being enough to wake her almost instantly. However, when she went to rub her cheek, there was nothing there. Frowning, Beverly stared up at the ceiling with a blank expression on her face but was quickly startled once again when her phone began to buzz beside her.

The red head snapped her head in the phone's direction, her eyebrows furrowing at the sight of someone from Maine calling her, and was quick to pick up her phone and rush to the kitchen as to not wake up her husband.

It wasn't long before she was sitting at her kitchen table, the voice of one of her childhood best friends Mike Hanlon ringing in her ears. "You made a promise, Beverly," Mike said almost sadly, but Beverly could barely register it. She was still getting an overwhelming amount of sudden memories flashing through her head, memories she had thought she had forgotten.

She tried to grasp onto the memories, but each time she did they would disappear back to the depths of her mind just out of reach. It was like she was remembering, but not at the same time. She felt as if there were things she was forgetting, fragments of her past missing from her mind. Although she barely remembered anything from her past up until Mike had called, so why was she worried about it?

"I-I'm so sorry, Mike," Beverly sighed, shaking slightly as she hugged her body with her free arm. She wasn't sure why she was so cold all of a sudden or why she felt like her heart was in her throat. Why was she so afraid? She was only talking to Mike. "I don't even really remember."

"Haven't you ever wondered why you can't seem to remember the things most people should? About where they're from? About who you are?" Mike questioned and Beverly swallowed thickly for she knew exactly what Mike was talking about. People had asked her before about her past, but she had never been able to answer them. It was like part of her life was missing from her mind and she had no idea why.

"Why you have that scar on your hand?" Mike questioned once Beverly didn't respond and that was enough to have the red head freeze. She shakily held her hand out, her eyes locking on the scar that ran across the palm of her hand. She had barely even stared at it for a second before she suddenly felt a searing pain grow where the scar was.

"No one else remembered either. Eddie, Bill, Richie, Ben," Mike listed off all while Beverly stared at her hand. But at the mention of the last name, she couldn't help but freeze.

"Ben," she whispered almost in a daze for she hadn't heard that name in a long time. At least not when referring to the boy she used to be best friends with. For a moment she remembered a field and walking along a small path with Ben by her side, the shy boy hesitantly brushing his fingers against her own before Beverly had smiled and taken his hand in hers.

"You have to come back," Mike said, his words finally snapping out of her thoughts long enough for her to look away from her scarred hand and outside at the pouring rain. "You all do."

Beverly got that sinking feeling in her stomach once again, her whole body chilled down to the bone. "When?" she breathed out, her voice barely above a whisper.

It wasn't long before Beverly was off the phone and packing her bags. Her nerves were haywire causing her to frantically rush around while her thoughts jumbled around in her brain. She couldn't even think straight, so it didn't even register to her just how loud she was being until she had grabbed her packed bag and was going to leave her closet only to find her husband standing there.

Beverly jumped back out of pure fright, her eyes wide before she registered that it was her husband standing before her and not—

The red head's thoughts stopped instantly in their tracks. Whatever she had thought was waiting for her was gone and for a moment she wondered what she had been expecting and why she couldn't remember.

"Woah, you okay?" her husband questioned causing the red head to snap back to reality as she looked to him. "What's going on? It's uh. . .the middle of the night and you're packing?"

Beverly was quick to lean up and peck her husband's lips once as she began to walk past him. "I didn't want to wake you," Beverly admitted. "Honey, I know this week's been really exhausting. I just got a phone call from an old friend from Derry. I have to go back there. It's really hard to explain why."

"It's okay," he assured her as he walked over to where she was currently sitting on their bed tying her shoes. He sat down next to her, his face completely blank of emotion, but his voice soft. "You don't have to explain yourself to me. Relax." He reached out and gently took Beverly's hand in his own. "I trust you."

"Thank you," Beverly sighed as she leaned forward and kissed the man once more. She went to get up and grab her bag, but she barely got a step away before her husband was gripping onto her wrist tightly, his fingers digging into her arm hard enough to make the woman wince.

Beverly froze, a sickening feeling growing in her stomach once again but this time the fear was directed at her husband. She slowly turned to look at the man who was staring at the ground shaking his head.

"I just don't understand why you'd lie to me," he said before he looked up at Beverly with an accusing glare. Beverly began to shake her head, but the man ignored it and stood up, pulling her dangerously closer to him. "I heard you. You said the name Mike."

"Yes, my friend," Beverly insisted. "There was a group of us back then and-and we all made a promise to each other when we were kids-"

"You know trust is everything in a relationship," her husband persisted, his grip tightening before he released her in order to reach out and brush his hand against her cheek. Beverly couldn't help but move away ever so slightly from his touch. "You know it means everything to me, right?"

"I know," Beverly told him. "But this isn't-" "What?" her husband asked, letting his hand drop to his side as his gaze grew colder by the second. "Like the last time?" "I never cheated on you," Beverly tried to say as she leaned forward to comfort the man, but he was quick to grab her hair from behind, pulling her back and making Beverly gasp in pain.

"You're a bad fucking liar, Bev," he said behind gritted teeth, tightening his grip on her hair and pulling her down even more that she was bent at an odd angle. "You're not going anywhere, okay? I want you to stay right here and you're going to show me what it is you're going to do with Mike, okay?" He slammed the red head against the wall and Beverly bit her lip to hold back a scream of pain that was begging to escape.

"You're. . .you're hurting me, honey," Beverly muttered but he didn't seem to care. "No one else is going to love you like me, you know that right?" he asked aggressively, not noticing that Beverly had shakily brought her hand up to his cheek until she scratched him across the face. His hold on her instantly dropped and he yelled out in pain while Beverly stood up. Her eyes widened and she was quick to go up behind him, whimpering slightly as she whispered, "I'm. . .I'm sorry."

She didn't even have time to think before her husband was suddenly turning on her and hitting her with his belt as hard as he could. Beverly grabbed onto his arm and he gave her a deathly glare. "Don't make this fucking harder!" he growled and Beverly had to take in a shaky breath to try and calm her nerves. "Don't," she whispered, but it was too late. Her husband threw a punch that knocked her back so hard she fell onto the bed. When she turned around, he had begun to take his shirt off and Beverly felt as if she were going to be sick. Just when he was pulling the shirt over his head, Beverly thrust both of her legs out so that she kicked him back.

He stumbled back with a groan and Beverly tumbled off the side of the bed as she desperately tried to grab something. She could hear him running at her, so the red head grabbed onto a picture frame and threw it at her husband only for him to knock it aside like it were nothing. Just when he was about to grab her, Beverly got onto her feet with a glass vase in hand and smashed it against his head.

Her husband fell to the ground almost instantly and Beverly was quick to grab her things and rush out of the room. "You're nothing without me! You know that, right?" her husband yelled after her as Beverly ran down the rest of the stairs and out the door. She didn't even flinch under the touch of the rain and continued her way down the steps, placing her wedding band on top of the stair railing before walking away as fast as she could.

Beverly didn't know where she was going, the shock of what had just happened carrying her down the middle of the street. She couldn't even process the honking of the cars as she walked, her only thoughts on how she needed to get to Derry.

As she walked down the street, the rushing of water was enough to make her snap out of her senses. Beverly glanced to the side, her eyes instantly locking on the sewer drain beside her. For but a moment, Beverly felt as if there was something trying to break through the back of her memories, a voice screaming at the top of their lungs. She had never felt so uneasy than she did in that moment and Beverly was quick to walk away as fast as she could. She had to get to Derry was what she reminded herself.

Yet she couldn't help but look back at the sewer once more wondering why she felt more afraid of a sewer than she was of her now ex husband.

- - -

Birds and a weird fascination for the animals had always been a part of Stanley Uris' life for as long as he could remember. Something about them just intrigued the man and even to this day he would spend his mornings bird watching in his backyard, his cousin by his side more often than not.

Birds had become a constant theme in his life and the puzzle on the table in front of him was no exception. He stared blankly at an empty place before letting his eyes roam over the small pile of pieces he still had left. His gaze was calculating as he tried to solve the puzzle in his head, but it quickly disappeared as he looked up at the sixteen year old sitting by his side.

Greyson Uris had his gaze locked on his mother who sat beside Stan's wide Patty, the two women whispering between each other as they pointed at something on a computer screen. Stan watched Greyson for a moment, letting his eyes flicker over the messy mop of brown hair he had and the features of his face that looked so much like his cousin. He was without a doubt his cousin's son especially when it came down to his huge heart.

It was obvious by the way Greyson was watching his mother that he was worried and Stan gently nudged the young boy so that he turned to look at him. Stan gave him a soft smile before whispering, "Penny for your thoughts?"

That was enough to crack a small smile on the teen's face, but it flickered as he glanced back at his mother. "I just worry about her is all. She's been working extra shifts at the office the last couple of weeks and I know it's because she's trying to hide the fact she's a little tight on money right now. She keeps trying to act like everything's fine just for my sake, but I can tell she's tired," Greyson admitted, shifting his gaze back to Stan. "I know it's hard being a single mother, but she doesn't have to hide it from me. I just want to help."

Stan stared at the boy for a moment, a small sympathetic smile on his face as a flicker of sadness flashed through his eyes. He knew what Greyson was talking about. His cousin had been struggling to raise enough money to both keep the two up on their feet while also still giving Greyson the childhood she thought he deserved. She was tired and life was becoming heavier on her shoulders every day.

Stan blamed Greyson's father, the man having walked out on his best friend the moment he heard she was pregnant. He left her without a moment of hesitation and didn't bother helping pay child support or make an effort to be a part of Greyson's life.

He had tried once a couple of years back, but the bond between mother and son was unlike any other and Greyson who had been fourteen at the time hadn't hesitated to show the man to the door and tell him never to come back. His cousin had come to Stan crying that night over how sweet her little boy was and how much she loved him and Stan had only grown more respect for the boy ever since.

Greyson's father hadn't been in the picture since and Greyson didn't seem all too upset about it. For as long as he had his mother, he was okay. That's why he was always so worried about her because she was not only his mother but his best friend and had raised him on her own with a little help here and there from Stan and Patty. It had always just been Greyson and and his mother, so it was no surprise for Stan to hear about the boy's concerns.

"Well," Stan began once he noticed Greyson's gaze was back on his mother, "I think your mother just doesn't want to worry you is all. All she wants is for you to have a worry free childhood especially after what happened with her own parents. She doesn't want you to have to go through any of that pain like she did."

Greyson was silent for a moment before he looked to Stan almost hesitantly. "It doesn't mean she can't ask for help," he spoke softly. "All of this is just stressing her out and I don't even remember the last time I saw her genuinely happy."

Stan went silent at that and thought back to the girl he remembered growing up with compared to the woman he knew now. There was definitely a difference in her happiness, but when it came to Greyson she had never loved or cared for someone more. Greyson was what kept her from falling apart and the boy didn't seem to realize how much just being himself helped his mother through the hard times.

"I know it's hard, kid," Stan sighed as he put a hand on the boy's shoulder. "But the best you can do right now is stick by her side and hopefully she will come around. She needs you just as much as you need her." Greyson was quiet for a moment before numbly nodding his head and looking back to the puzzle. Stan took that as an end to the conversation and turned his attention back to the puzzle as well, a comfortable silence falling among the two.

It was minutes later before Greyson spoke up again, his happy demeanor back once again and the conversation from before way behind them. "Here it is," Greyson exclaimed triumphantly as he handed a puzzle piece to Stan who had been staring at a missing piece on the board in concentration.

Stan glanced at the boy before gently taking the puzzle piece and placing it in the spot. It fit perfectly and Stan looked back to Greyson before giving him a small smile, the action making Greyson smile wide in response. “This is why I keep you around," Stan joked as he reached out to ruffle the sixteen year old's hair. Greyson let out a small chuckle and smiled at the man before him, not noticing his mother's gaze from behind.

"Greyson," Y/N Uris softly called out from where she sat beside Stan's wife Patty who was currently scrolling through plane tickets on her computer. The sound of his mother's voice was enough to have Greyson turning to look at the woman and she smiled softly before saying, "Time to go, kid." Greyson instantly frowned. "Come on, Mom. Uncle Stan and I are almost done with the puzzle!" Greyson complained while Stan threw a small smirk in his cousin's direction.

Stan wasn't technically Greyson's uncle, but since Stan was pretty much like a brother to Y/N, Greyson had been calling him his uncle since he could talk. Every time he referred to Stan as Uncle Stan, the Uris cousins couldn't help but smile, and this was found true yet again as the corners of their mouths perked up slightly at Greyson's words.

"I know, Grey, and I'm sorry. However, it's already almost midnight and we've already been here an hour later than we should've," Y/N said, watching as Greyson winced slightly before giving her a shy grin. "I was hoping you wouldn't notice," Greyson admitted making Y/N chuckle as she looked at her son in adoration. The teen was quick to turn around to face his mother completely, a pleading look on his face as he looked at her. "Please, Mom. Just until we finish the puzzle? Come on."

Stan glanced at his nephew before turning around as well and giving his cousin the same pleading face her son was. The two boys then leaned in together and looked over at Y/N who narrowed her eyes at the two.

"You know I hate when you two do that," Y/N muttered as she fought back the urge to yawn. “That's why they do it," Patty chuckled while Y/N let out a small sigh. "Fine," Y/N gave in causing the two boys to smile and high five each other. "But let's pack the car up first. Then you can come back in here and finish the puzzle before we leave."

"Deal," Greyson agreed before he shot up off of the couch to go grab his things. "Don't finish it without me, Uncle Stan!" "Wouldn't dream of it, kid!" Stan called after him while Y/N watched her son race into the front hall to grab his things. Stan glanced over at his cousin and smiled as she walked over to him. "Some kid you got there, Y/N."

"I got lucky, didn't I?" Y/N whispered with a small yet proud smile on her face that Stan couldn't help but return. "We all did," Stan agreed causing Y/N to look at him. The two cousins smiled at each other and Y/N reached out to ruffle her cousin's hair. Stan was tried to lean away with a playful glare on his face and Y/N merely smiled before heading towards the front door.

"We'll be right back. Try not to miss us too much," Y/N joked as she winked back at Stan. The curly haired boy let out a soft chuckle and put a hand to his chest dramatically. "I shall try my hardest," he joked back and the two cousins chuckled before Y/N disappeared out the front door with Greyson at her side.

Stan shook his head at his cousin's antics before noticing his wife staring at him with a small smile on her face. "What?" Stan questioned, quirking an eyebrow at her amusingly. "Nothing. I just wish I had a bond like you and Y/N had is all. You two aren't even siblings and are closer than I was with any of my brothers," Patty spoke up.

"I've been lucky," Stan sighed. "Y/N may not be my actually sister, but she might as well be. After all, it's always been the two of us. For as long as I can remember, I've always had her." A distant look appeared in Stan's eyes before he smiled and shrugged his shoulders. "I guess we're so close because of how much time we've spent together and what we've been through especially with that son of a bitch she used to call her husband," Stan muttered. He was quick to shake the thought of him off and thought back to Y/N.

For a moment he thought he remembered a glimpse of them riding through town on his bike, her arms up in the air as she laughed and yelled for him to pedal faster all while Stan laughed and tried to pedal as fast as he could. However, the memory was quickly gone and for a moment he felt his hand hurt, but he ignored it. “She's my best friend," he admitted before looking over at Patty who was holding a hand against her chest as if her heart were about to burst from how adorable they were. Stan rolled his eyes playfully at his wife before looking back to his puzzle.

Knowing that was the end of the conversation for now, Patty went back to looking at her computer screen while Stan tried to mentally put the pieces where he thought they should go so that he could help Greyson once he returned.

"Should I just book it?" Patty finally asked, referring to the vacation the couple was wanting to go on. "You sure you can get away from work?" "It's summer. Why not?" Stan asked. "I'm sure Y/N wouldn't mind watering the plants and getting the mail for us. We could even have Greyson do it and maybe even pay him. He's been saving up for that new computer for his writing pieces you know." "Okay. We are Buenos Aires bound," Patty announced excitedly while Stan finally noticed that one of the puzzle pieces was missing. He was quick to look under the table and he sighed at the sight of the piece right underneath.

Stan was quick to get down on the floor to grab it and just when he had latched onto the puzzle piece, his phone began to ring. Stan stayed on the floor and glanced up at his phone through the glass table to see who was calling. However, as soon as his eyes latched onto the caller ID he couldn't help but furrow his eyebrows in confusion.

Maine? Now who could possibly be calling from Maine?

Stan sat up and set the puzzle piece down before picking up his phone and placing it to his ear. "Stanley Uris speaking?" he said. "It's Mike," the person on the other line replied almost instantly and Stan furrowed his eyebrows even more. Mike? "I'm sorry?" Stan said, hoping the man would elaborate more. "Mike Hanlon," the voice said and Stan swore his heart stopped beating completely. "From Derry."

It took but a second for Stan to make the connection of the caller to the Mike Hanlon he had used to be best friend with when he was younger. He had been a homeschooler and Stan suddenly got a flashback of an intense rock war with Henry Bowers and his gang as him, Y/N, and his other friends had saved Mike from the bullying he was receiving.

However, that one memory seemed to open up the gateway for all of his memories, everything snapping back into place in his mind like a puzzle that hadn't been completed in years. Stan could remember everything down to his life when he had lived in Derry, the summers Y/N would spend down there with him, the laughs he had with Bill and Richie and Eddie, the summer Y/N's parents had got a divorce and sent her to stay with him—Stan froze at that.

The summer of 1989. Now that was a memory he wish he still couldn't remember. Although not all of it he wanted to forget. After all, that was the summer he met Mike Hanlon, Beverly Marsh, and Ben Hanscom. That was the summer he and Y/N created a bond that made their friendship as strong as it was today. The bad memories was what he wanted to forget—the Neibolt House, the lady from the painting, It.

"Mike. God, sorry. Yes. Hi. I don't know why I. . .I didn't um. . ." Stan trailed off and it was then that he remembered something that he really wished he hadn't.

The promise.

Stan's blood ran cold at that memory, his whole body so numb that it was like he wasn't there in the moment even though he knew he was. He breathing was shaky and he felt the sudden urge to throw up. All he could feel was fear and he knew exactly why that was. But this couldn't be real. It hadn't been that long had it? There was no way.

"How long has it been?" Stan finally found himself asking, his hand gripping onto his phone tightly as his voice shook. "A long time," Mike admitted and the fact that he didn't tell Stan an exact number was enough to make Stan's stomach drop. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end and Stan gulped as he pulled himself up onto his feet. He wasn't the same thirteen year old from that summer, but for some reason he felt like the Stanley Uris who had been too afraid to walk into the Neibolt without his cousin holding onto his hand.

Maybe if Y/N had been by his side right then instead of out by her car, Stan would've felt better, but for some reason he felt as if he couldn't tell her. They had never spoken about what happened that summer and if Stan hadn't been able to remember until Mike called them Y/N sure as hell didn't remember. He did not need her worrying about that right now, not when she had a kid to worry about.

"Twenty seven years," Mike finally said after a long silence, confirming Stan's suspicions and causing the boy to stumble slightly as he tried to stand back up. Thankfully Patty was too focused on the Buenos Aires trip she was finalizing to notice Stan and for a split second he wanted to tell her to not bother for he had a feeling they would never get to go on that trip together.

"It's come back, hasn't it?" Stan whispered, his voice shakier now so that he knew Mike had to have heard. "That's why you're calling." "It's starting again, Stan. Bad things are happening," Mike admitted while Stan squeezed his eyes shut in disbelief. It was like with each second that passed, he was becoming more and more consumed by his fear. This couldn't be happening. There was no way.

"Did. . .did you call the others? I mean what if. . .what if they don't come back?" Stan questioned, hoping that Mike would say someone wasn't coming and that he could stay home and forget this whole thing ever happened. All he wanted to do was take Patty, Y/N, and Greyson and keep them away from this whole thing. He wanted to keep them in this house, lock all the doors, and refuse to come out. All he needed was to have those three by his side and he would be okay.

"Everyone except for Y/N. But we made a promise, remember?" Mike reminded him, his words causing Stan to feel even more sick than before once he realized there was no getting out of this. He wouldn't be able to just ignore this and his thoughts flickered over to Greyson and Y/N, how Y/N would no doubt go back to make sure everyone was safe and how devastated Greyson would be if anything were to happen to her. Stan knew if anything were to happen to Y/N it would be because of his own cowardice and that was enough to make Stan feel even worse.

"How soon can you get here?" Mike asked. "Well. . .uh. . .I uh. . .I would need to do a few things. I would-" Stan muttered, his eyes closing once again as sheer panic and fear coursed through his veins. "Tomorrow," Mike decided for him and it took all of Stan not to throw up right there. "We don't have much time. I'll text you everything you need. I'll see you soon, Stan the Man."

Stan didn't even have time to respond before Mike had hung up, but the man didn't move and merely kept the phone up limply in the air with his eyes closed, his face pale as he stared blankly at the wall. He didn't even notice when Y/N and Greyson had returned, the teen hurrying over to the puzzle almost instantly while Y/N look to her cousin with a smile.

However, it disappeared at the sight of him and she was quick to go to his side and place a hand on his arm. "Stanley?" Y/N whispered, her soft voice making the man's eyes snap open almost instantly. "Are you okay?" Stan looked to her at that and Y/N blinked in surprise at the look that dawned her cousin's face. She had never seen him this way, never seen him look so afraid. What kind of phone call could make him that scared? "I'm fine," Stan assured her although his shaky voice was enough to make her narrow her eyes slightly at him as she tried to read him.

Stan just gave the girl a small smile which she knew was forced and gently took her hand off of his arm before holding onto it the same way they would hold hands when they were kids. He gave it the smallest squeeze and for a moment Y/N felt as if she were back in Stan's backyard when they were younger. watching birds fly by in the early morning. "Seriously," he whispered and Y/N gave him a look that said she didn't believe him but that she would drop it for now. Stan knew they would have to talk about it eventually if Y/N had any say in it, but little did she knew that they never would.

"Uncle Stan, care to do the honors?" Greyson asked as he looked up to his uncle with a small smile, holding the last puzzle piece up in the air. Any other night Stan would've told Greyson to be the one to finish the puzzle, but he was eager to take the distraction and get away from his cousin's calculating look. He went and sat beside Greyson and Y/N watched as Stan hesitated as he stared at her son, his eyes flickering over Greyson as if he were never going to see him again and was trying to memorize this moment right here. But before Y/N could send him a questioning look, Stan had snapped out of it and was putting the puzzle piece in its place, bringing the puzzle to an end.

It wasn't long after that that the two families found themselves out on the front porch saying goodbye. They were lucky enough to only live a few neighborhoods down, but for some reason Stan acted as if they wouldn't see each other for a long time and that was enough to give Y/N an unsettling feeling that she quickly pushed aside.

"Uncle Stan," Greyson said as he pulled away from Patty's hug to look to his uncle. "I was thinking maybe we could go to the bookstore later this week. You know how my favorite author is that Bill Denbrough guy, right? He's coming out with a movie soon and released a special edition copy of his book The Attic Room that I was wanting to pick up." Stan blinked in surprise, finally putting together why Greyson's favorite author had a name that had sounded so familiar. How had he not realized it before?

Stan suddenly got a memory of looking out the window to see Y/N and Bill walk up to his house hand in hand on the day they had made the promise, the two exchanging a small kiss that left them both with goofy smiles on their faces before Stan had teased his cousin endlessly about them. His eyes instantly flickered over to Y/N, trying to see if any sort of recognition flickered across her face at the mention of her first love, but there was none. She was too busy discussing some last minute things with Patty and hugging his wife to really pay attention and Stan couldn't help but wonder how Y/N would react upon seeing Bill again.

He found himself hoping that Bill wasn't married. After all, Y/N deserved to live a happy life and the Bill he remembered would have done anything to give it to her. If Bill was still the same Bill he remembered, then he would not only be a perfect match for Y/N, but a perfect father figure to Greyson. The thought was enough to put the smallest of smiles on Stan's face despite everything going on and the thought of Y/N, Bill, and Greyson finally getting to live a happy life after It was defeated was the only reassuring thing for Stan at the moment, the only thing keeping him calm.

Stan turned his eyes back to his nephew and smiled as he pulled the boy in for a hug. "Sounds like a plan, kid," Stan told him, knowing that he had to act as if everything were okay. Greyson was quick to hug his uncle back before pulling away, allowing his uncle to ruffle his hair once before he let his mother go to Stan.

Y/N stopped in front of her cousin, her eyes hesitantly flickering over his face as if she were trying to determine if Stan was actually okay or not. Stan could do nothing more than look at the girl, swallowing thickly as he knew she was going to be in for a world of pain and that he wouldn't be able to help her. He wanted to say he was sorry for being so selfish and to explain himself right then and there, but he knew he couldn't. Y/N would try to stop him and then his reckless actions against It would get her killed. So Stan just let himself take in the girl that stood before him as he struggled to hold back the tears that he knew were begging to break free.

Before Y/N could notice that, Stan was pulling her in for a hug, the action making Y/N chuckle and hug him back instantly. There was so much Stan wanted to say, so much he wanted to tell her, but he knew he couldn't. At least not right now.

"I love you," Stan finally decided on saying, the words being a normal between the two but something that held more meaning in that moment than Y/N would ever know. Y/N hugged her cousin harder at that before pulling away to look at the face of her best friend. "I love you too, Stanley," she whispered. "I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?" She tilted her head her so slightly and gave him a grin that made his heart ache.

"Yeah," he told her, nodding despite the heavy feeling in his heart. Y/N smiled softly at that and reached up to ruffle his hair, not knowing it would be her last time. Stan didn't even try and pull away like usual and just enjoyed his cousin's touch before sending her a small smile which she easily returned.

Y/N then pulled away and began to walk down the stairs. All Stan wanted to do was pull her back and hug her again, but he knew it would only make her more suspicious than she already was. So when she turned back to wave at him and Patty one last time, Stan put on a fake smile and waved to her just like he did every other time she left. He would give her no indication that this would be the last time, no reason to hold her back from going to meet with the Losers. Y/N turned and whispered something to Greyson who smiled before wrapping an arm around his mother as they walked to the car. Stan couldn't help but smile at the sight, knowing that the two would be okay as long as they had each other.

And with that, Stanley Uris watched as his cousin got into her car and drove off, knowing that everything he was about to do was only so her and Greyson would be safe in the end.

- - -

"Bill Denbrough," Y/N muttered, confusion evident in her voice as she stared at the book Greyson was currently reading. Greyson's honey brown eyes instantly flickered to her, a small smile on his face as he brushed his brown hair away from his eyes. "Still the best author of all time," Greyson said as he sat down on his bed beside his mother. "His endings aren't the best, but they aren't bad either. I was hoping we could try and go see his new movie when it comes out?"

"Of course we can, kiddo," Y/N assured the boy as she got up and set the book down on his nightstand next to the printed copies of Greyson's work which were really just alternate endings to this Bill Denbrough guy's books, pushing aside her thoughts of how the name sounded so familiar.

That was the moment her phone decided to ring and Y/N sighed before taking her phone out of her pocket. Her eyebrows furrowed slightly at the sight of a number from Maine calling her and she glanced at her son who had already picked the book back up to read.

"I'm gonna take this. I'll come check on you in a little bit, okay?" Y/N said, knowing her son wouldn't be going to bed anytime soon since they had only just gotten back from Stan's. Greyson hummed in response and Y/N was quick to walk out of his room before pressing the accept button and putting the phone to her ear.

"Hello?" she questioned. "Is this Y/N Uris?" a voice asked and Y/N frowned ever so slightly as she walked down the stairs and towards the kitchen to grab something to drink. "This is she. May I ask who is calling?" Y/N asked. "This is Mike," the man explained and just when Y/N was about to question him further, he went on as if he had said it multiple times before. "Mike Hanlon from Derry."

Y/N stopped in her tracks at that and for a brief moment it was like she was standing in the middle of a blizzard, her whole body so cold that she could barely think straight. Her hands began to shake and she could hear her heart beating in her chest. Yet she had no idea why she was so scared all of a sudden. Why was she filled with so much fear? However, the fear began to dim ever so slightly as a sharp pain went through her head, images flashing by as she heard the distant sound of children laughing, remembering the feeling of splashing into water before playing chicken fight with the people she used to call her best friends.

She remembered them all only momentarily starting with the boy she was talking to right now, Mike Hanlon, the boy who had been homeschooled all of his life and who she had saved from Henry Bowers when she threw a rock at his head. She remembered Ben Hanscom, the boy who loved New Kids on the Block and would spend countless hours in the library researching Derry. She remembered Beverly Marsh, the fiery red head who was also the first girl best friend that she had ever had. Then there was Richie Tozier, the boy who liked to flirt way too much and say more crude jokes then one could count but who had a big heart when it counted most. There was Eddie Kaspbrak, the boy who had been like her brother and who she used to calm down during some of his little episodes. Of course there was her cousin Stanley, but she already remembered him.

And then there was Bill Denbrough. No wonder the name had sounded so familiar. She had known him. He had been her best friend and the boy she had crushed on for forever. Her shaky hands went up to her lips and for a split second she remembered a warm September afternoon and the feeling of a soft pair of lips against her own. However it disappeared just a quick, almost as if it were nothing but a dream.

How could she have forgotten about him? How could she have forgotten about any of them? How could she have forgotten about the Losers?

"Mike," Y/N breathed out in disbelief, a smile dawning her face as her fear was pushed to a back burner. "It's been so long. How are you?" "You need to come home," Mike said and Y/N furrowed her eyebrows but kept her smile on her face. "I'm sorry. What?" she questioned. “You need to come home, Y/N," Mike repeated and Y/N's smile fell from her face as the fear suddenly cane back although she didn't know why.

The girl winced as a sudden pain shot through her hand. Y/N quickly glanced down at her hand and didn't understand why she felt so sick at the sight of the scar that ran across her palm. However, she had a sneaking suspicion it was because she hadn't even known she had a scar on her palm up until that moment. "When?" she found herself asking, but she didn't ask the question that she was dying to know the answer to, afraid of what the answer might be despite not knowing it herself. "Tomorrow," Mike replied and there was a long moment of silence as Y/N tried to process everything. She honestly had no clue what was going on, but she knew she had to get to Derry. She wasn't sure why, but she just had a feeling and she knew her fear and queasy stomach would not relent until she was back in Derry.

"I'll be there," Y/N whispered, her voice shaky as she squeezed her throbbing hand shut. "Great. I'll see you there, Y/N," Mike's voice whispered in her ear and Y/N knew she should've been excited to see her friend after so long, but all she felt was another wave of nausea. She didn't even wait for Mike to hang up and did it herself before staring blankly at her phone.

“Fuck.”

- - -

"I don't understand. One of your childhood friends calls you in the middle of the night saying that you have to get to Derry which is in Maine by the way and you're just packing everything up and going?" Greyson questioned in disbelief, his eyes following his mother around the room as she frantically threw stuff into a suitcase. Y/N paused for a just a moment and gave her son a nervous look. "Yes?" she said in a questioning voice before going back to packing. She didn't know how to explain it to her son, how to tell him that she had made a promise that she didn't necessarily remember and that she had to get back. Hell, she didn't even know how to explain to him that one of her childhood friends happened to be the author Greyson admired so much.

"Mom," Greyson said and that was enough to have the woman looking over at him. The sixteen year old was leaning against the doorframe of her bedroom, his brown eyes staring at her in concern as he tried to read her, as he tried to understand despite just how tired he was. Y/N sighed and walked over to the boy who stood up a bit straighter. She gently took his hands in her own and stared at her son before saying, "Greyson, honey, I need you to try and work with me here. I honestly don't know why I'm going, but I have to, okay? It's a gut feeling. You just. . .you got to trust me on this." Greyson was silent for a moment as he stared at her and Y/N could practically see the gears moving in his head before he finally let up and gave her a tiny nod. "I trust you," he assured her and Y/N smiled before leaning forward to press a small kiss to her son's forehead. "Thank you," she whispered. "Now go finish packing your things. You can sleep in the car. It's a long way to Maine from here, kid."

Greyson nodded and was quick to do as his mother said, disappearing up the stairs to finish packing while Y/N rushed back to her own things. It wasn't long before they were loading their things into the car and Y/N had returned to her frantic state once again, completely forgetting about her cousin who had to have been going through the same thing as her at that very moment.

They were on the road less than thirty minutes after the call, but it wouldn't be until they were two hours into the drive that Y/N would realize she left her phone sitting on top of her bed at the house. It was that same phone that now had three missed calls from Patty Uris.

If Y/N had known what was going to happen once she got to Derry, she would've turned around right then. But she didn't, so Y/N just drove down the road, her nerves being enough to keep her awake while Greyson slept soundlessly in the passenger seat beside her.

Neither Uris knew what would be in store for them when they reached Derry and the horrors Y/N had witness twenty seven years earlier? They were nothing compared to what was ahead.

- - -

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[yetanotherreader]

Useful—6(1)

Genre: College AU

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Y/N Y/L/N

Summary: The school's most popular boy wants to be friends with Y/N, out of the blue. It definitely doesn't have anything to do with her hot best friend, though.

Word Count (For the chapter): 6,367

Warnings (For the chapter): Fluff, Mentions of Depression, suicide attempts, murder, angst, panic attack, fluff, more fluff?

A/N: Well, hello there. First of all, THANK YOU. I mean it, thank you so much. You guys are so supportive, it makes me feel I don't deserve y'all. And since I made you wait extra long for this chapter, I wrote an extra long chapter. Does it make up for the delay?

Just got to know I can't make a post this long so I'm going to post this chapter in two parts. If you're patient enough, please do read. Thank you.

Useful Masterlist

Chapter 6(1)

Chapter 5

"Really now? That's where you bring me?" Dean said, as you rolled your eyes at his, pretty much, failed attempt at hiding the excited little girl he was being.

"Stop, huh. Stop acting like you don't enjoy this." A mischievous smile formed on his lips when you said it at god knew what he thought.

"But theme park rides? What are we? Babies?"

"Babies go on theme park rides?" You looked at him, amused by the stupidity that practically dropped off every word of that sentence, "Alright, grandpa, you can sit at a side while I go enjoy those rides alone. Come on, Dean!"

"Only because you insist." He said as he grabbed your hand and dragged you through the gates. You didn't even remember visiting a theme park, it's been that long you came to one. It was beautiful and you already were ready to jump into every ride you find. It was mesmerizing.

Painfully mesmerizing. Just a reminder of how you fucked up your childhood. But you were going to enjoy today. You had come here with your best friend, and nothing—no haunting past memories—was going to make you less happy about today.

"Here, sunshine," amidst your thoughts, you didn't even realize when Dean's hand slipped out of yours and he went. You shook your head to break the chain of thoughts. 

Dean stood there, with a kid grin on his face, holding two candy floss in either of his hands. The sight was to behold, as something inside you did a somersault, and just like that all the dark memories faded away as you took the blue one from him.

"You're gonna leave me with the pink one?" He pouted, giving you one of his puppy dog eyes, which he claimed he learned from his little brother.

"Not working on me, Dean. Go tell Sam he wasn't a good teacher." You said, chuckling. And you couldn't have misheard it for the death of you, Dean giggled. Actually, giggled. Like a baby. It made your heart flutter inside your ribs and just like that, you let your eyes linger on his freckled face for longer than it was appropriate for a friend.

"Do you think we should go to that place first?" You followed Dean's gaze and shook your head seeing a small 'pie stall'.

"So typical of you, jade boy." You arched your eyebrows at him, "what d'ya say we go on some rides and tire ourselves a little before that?

He pouted, again, the cutest pout you've ever seen, as you laughed at the ridiculousness of his face, "that face does not suit you, Dean. Get back at being that tough guy."

He followed behind, as you made your way to the stall. He beamed,"As if you don't die to kiss it off my lips all the time."

"Watching too many chick flicks these days, huh, Winchester?" You responded, too quickly, without turning to look at him and let him see your flushed cheeks. Comments like these made you want to think if Dean sees you like someone more than just his best friend too, if he ever had thoughts of both of you together in more than the way you were. It wasn't something that happened all the time, but sometimes you liked to wonder. Dean was everything that a good guy could be, and much more than you deserved. You could never make that place in his heart. And definitely not with how you looked. 

Sitting down on one of the small tables, you sighed. Licking the candy straw one last time, you tossed it in the dustbin that wasn't too far away from where you seated. Dean let out an amused laugh, "My kinda girl!"

You looked at him taking a seat in front of you on one the plastic chairs, with a scrunched up nose and a sheepish smile, "What even?" You laughed a little, "Your kinda girls lick it off the stick, now?"

Dean almost choked on his floss before smirking at you, "yeah, yeah they do."

It took you a moment before you realized what you just said and you hid your face in your hands, "Oh my god, Dean! Shit shit shit, I didn't mean it like that!"

By this time, Dean was doubling over laughter. He kept his forehead on his fists in order to hide his face as he kept laughing.

"Alright stop okay, it wasn't even that big a deal." You scoffed, embarrassed, trying to stifle your own laugh. Dean's smile was contagious, especially when he was like this—laughing his heart out with an almost red face while his eyes crinkled in those gorgeous crow feet which were starting to become your weakness, "Oh god, Dean, stop."

And just like that you both were laughing, unbothered by the people around giving you crazy looks. For the first time in a very very long time, you didn't care about how you looked while laughing. It just came naturally with him, easier,"Your face...you should have seen your face." He took a deep breath, regaining his ability to speak, "I'll go bring us the pie."

"I'm paying!" You yelled after him, as the smile faded away from your lips. You knew he didn't mean it like that, he never would but the voice in the back of your head was hell bent on convincing you otherwise. He just meant it in a funny way, like you would if you said something like this to someone, but for some reason you couldn't help but think there was something about your face that forced a laughter out of him. If he thought your face was funny or weird, or if he thought you were ugly but was just too nice to say it directly. Your heart felt heavy, and suddenly you wanted some air. Your self doubts were the worst thing. They never let you enjoy, worse they always ended up ruining your days. You subconsciously pulled out your phone and looked at your dark reflection, observing just how flawed your face was. Every little scar looked back at you, the little milia under your eyebrows or your not-so-cute nose. You hated looking at yourself, face or elsewhere, it felt like you were made of flaws. And if you couldn't love them yourself, why would someone else? You shook your head, it wasn't the time for this. Today, you came here to spend some time with your best friend. Hating yourself could wait for later.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Dean's soft voice shook you out of your trance.

"Uh-actually.. nothing. Where's the pie?" 

"It's coming. What's up with you, really? One moment you're being all adorable and the next you're serious like this. Are you okay?"

Adorable. That's what he meant. He doesn't think you're ugly.

Or maybe he does? 

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to silence your thoughts, but in vain. They kept getting louder, telling you to just stand up and walk away from him. 

You don't deserve a good friend like him, you'll ruin his life too.

You knew where this was heading, and if you didn't stop it now you're going to make a clown out of yourself in the middle of a fxckin' fair. You tried to take a deep breath, your shaky hands came up to your ears trying to stop the voice, but it felt like you didn't even know how to breathe.

"Hey, hey, hey," You heard a familiar voice at a distance, "Y/N!" You felt two warm, big hands on yours, and you opened your eyes to see concerned green orbs looking back, "You're okay, I'm here."

It took you a second or two to register what was happening, and it felt like a bucket of cold water thrown on you. You were here, in front of Dean who knelt in front of you, looking like a weakling. This wasn't supposed to happen, this was supposed to be his day. You pulled your hands away from underneath his to make a hold of his wrists and slowly remove his palms from your face, "I'm..I'm okay. Just fine."

Dean's brows furrowed in confusion at the hint of cold in your tone, followed by a subtle clench in his jaw. He stood up, took a step back and looked away, with a stoic expression, "Yeah. You're okay."

You breathed out his name, still a little shaky and out of breath. You knew you needed him, but something held you back. You were so used to dealing with everything by yourself, that having someone now just felt weird.

"It's fine, Y/N. But I'm here, okay? And I'm not going anywhere," his few words of reassurance meant a lot more to you than you cared to admit. He walked up to you and held your hands pulling you on your feet, "Need a hug?"

You bit your lip, not sure how to tell him that you did. Fiddling with your fingers, you looked up at him through your lashes to see him smile and mumble an 'idiot' as he engulfed you in his embrace. It was a full bear hug, and it was funny someone like Dean gave it to you. He was a huge softie for a tough guy he acted like.

"See it wasn't that hard," he said nuzzling your neck, and if you didn't know any better you would think this intimate gesture had a meaning.

"Shut up, dork," you giggled, feeling his stubbles tickle at your nape, "You're so touchy."

"Don't tell anyone though," He pulled away, looking at your grinning face with a soft smile, arms still around you, "So now, listen here. We are going to eat that delicious pie, I'm taking the bigger piece, till we gain a couple extra pounds and we are going to go have fun and we won't give your pretty little brain enough time to go south."

"Sounds about right!" You beamed.

The next hour was spent having the time of your life. The rides you'd never been on before, you did now, and if you were being honest to yourself, you had never had so much fun before. You wondered why you never had it when you were a kid. Dean was so good with the bumper cars, you just realized how interested he is in cars again. It was funny to see him trying to fit, though. It took awhile for him  to adjust his large frame in that tiny car, whilst you laughed your ass off. He made sure to take revenge, though, and bumped his car in yours again and again. And then there was the mechanical bull. Your favourite. It was the first time you sat on one, and boi did you underestimate it. You, even, challenged Dean calling it 'easy peasy' and all he did was smirk at you. You should have understood it wasn't as easy as you thought it was. You barely lasted a few seconds before being thrown off, and this time it was Dean's turn to laugh. Dean lasted on it for almost a minute, yelling 'Yee Haw' making everyone laugh.

Two old ladies came up to you while you goofed around with your drinks, and you found out they were together. They almost fangirled over you both, telling you stories of how they sneaked out of their houses to go to carnivals and how much you kids reminded them of their youth. You almost choked on your coke while Dean seemed to enjoy it, "Right? Y/N and I have been together since high school. Her parents didn't allow her to date back then, and we sneaked away to meet. You won't believe it, our first kiss was scandalous. Right, sweetheart?"

You stared at him with a mouth agape, what the hell was he high on? You narrowed your eyes at him and he looked at you mischievously, as if challenging you to continue. Oh, this could be a game of two. You smiled at him, as you turned your head towards the couple looking at you both with starstruck eyes, "It was my first kiss. It's kind of funny. I made this one wait three months before I actually let him kiss me, and that was the kiss of a lifetime. Not because it was perfect, but because it wasn't. He was staying at his uncle's with his little brother, Sam that day. His Uncle just happened to be my neighbour. He sneaked out in the middle of the night, climbed up to my room. We were watching a movie, cuddling and it just kind of happened. He leaned in and pressed his lips to mine. Like I said, it was my first so I didn't know how to kiss him back. He thought I didn't want it, so he apologized. Kept saying sorry with that adorable face until I had to stop him." You looked up at him, again, with a smirk as he looked back intrigued, "with a kiss."

He arch his brow, clearly enjoying this as the shorter woman cooed. You wiggled your brows at him, and he took it as his cue to continue, "and that took my breath away. We made out on her bed, while her parents were just a room away. That was the hottest thing I had ever experienced, well until something else happened of course," He smirked again, looking at you as you bit your lip in anticipation of what's coming next. His eyes traveled down to your lips at your little action, "She's the hottest thing you'll ever see, not that you will, when she takes control. She looks innocent and all, but she's a wild kitten in bed. And then there are times when she completely surrenders, letting me have my way with her-"

"Too much information, babe!" You squeaked. Your eyes wide and cheeks flushed as you stared at his face, his expressions mischievous. He smirked, snaking his arms around your waist pulling you possessively to him. This was the closest you'd ever been to him, physically, and you were afraid he could feel your heart thumping in your ribs as your chests pressed with his.

He looked at you with a winning expression and whispered in your ears, "Lost so soon, wild kitten?" You could feel your ears heating up and you knew very well he saw it too. This wasn't how it was going to be, he wasn't going to know that he had that power on you, even though he did and let him tease you about it for the rest of your life. You were going to take the winning shot. You stood on your tiptoes, slowly pressing your lips to the side or his mouth, letting them linger for a second or two as you whispered a 'no' against his skin. You pulled away, looking back at his flushed face. You made Dean Winchester blush, you deserved a goddamn medal. After a moment the reality of the situation hit you. You just almost kissed your best friend. It was a game, and you hoped it didn't ruin things between you two. Your best friend mattered to you more than a silly crush you had on him.

"Oh my god, you two are so cute!" The shorter woman squealed, effectively pulling you out of your thoughts, pulling both of you out of them. You saw her looking at you with an awed face, while her taller wife scolded her a bit, "Sorry, I just get a little excited around young couples."

"It's okay, we didn't mind." Dean spoke politely, his hands still around your waist, "but I think we should get going. It's going to get dark in a couple more hours."

Walking out of the small hut, you didn't know how to form words. You couldn't believe you did that, you just hoped Dean let it past. It was so awkward, and you knew he could feel the tension too. Great, you just ended your most beautiful friendshi-

"So, uh-" Dean started, trying to cut through the tension, "First kiss, huh?"

"High school girlfriend, huh?" 

"Well," he chuckled, "You won't deny it was fun. I mean, now that I think of it, we can make a pretty good couple."

You laughed, all the tension leaving your body at his fun tone, "You bet. A pretty good, scandalous couple, who make out in the room next to my parents."

He laughed, throwing his head back this time, "Wild kitten? How ridiculous."

"That part got me. What was going through your mind when you said that?"

"A lot of things. Fantasizing my best friend? Scandalous, enough?"

"Oh my god, Dean" you laughed, trying to hide your blush as Dean threw his arms around your shoulders, "Let's go there, I still want a ride."

"On me?"

"Shut up."

You stood in front of the giant ride, eyes beaming with excitement. You wanted to go on it as soon as you entered the park. Loop-o-plane. "Let's do it!"

"I-I am not going anywhere near that thing," You frowned and looked at your best friend only to have him look ahead with saucer-like eyes. 

"Why?" You whined.

"What if that thing comes out?"

"What thing?"

"That thing that's keeping this thing in place."

You looked at him like he's grown horns, "No it won't."

"But what if it does?"

"Do you trust me?"

"With my life," his voice went soft, you turning to look at him, as his voice grew high again, "but I don't trust that thing. It's a machine, Y/N. You should never trust a machine. What if that belt breaks and we fall down and die? I hate hospitals!"

You grinned amused by his childishness, "We won't fall down, Dean, and you won't have to go to the hospital."

"Nah."

You sighed, "Alright, you can stay here and I'll go. Is that okay, now?"

His eyes grew wider, "Y/N Y/L/N, no. I know you ain't all that fond of your life but I'm not letting you get yourself killed."

"What-what even? I'm not going to get myself killed. Please, De? Please, please, please, please, pretty please?"

"Don't give me that look," you flashed him your most innocent pleading face as he glared at you, "Argh, if we die, we die together. I hate you so much."

"All the love back." You grinned, pulling him by his arms.

The next two minutes were the longest two minutes of your life. Dean screamed like a little girl, clinging to you until you couldn't feel your eyes and hand anymore. It was fun and it was torture. When you got off the ride, both of you were a little shaken, rather Dean was a lot.

"See! I told you it'll be fun." You said, cautiously, as Dean glared at you. He walked faster until he was ahead of you, "Aye grumpy soldier, come on!"

"I am never hanging out with you ever again. You little, you little-"

"Little what?" You ran up to him, and grinned, "Wild kitten?"

You could have sworn you saw his lips curl up a bit. He looked at you, narrowing his eyes, "You aren't my best friend. You're an enemy in disguise. Who sent you?"

"Lucifer!" You giggled.

"Or are you satan?"

"Hey!" You whined as he laughed circling his arms around your shoulders. You let out a little yawn, "I'm tired."

He smiled down at you, his face looking shades of pink from the setting sun. His freckles stood out darker than usual. He was a sight, so beautiful, "Let's take you home, sleepyhead."

By the time you were on the road, it was pretty dark. You sang loudly to the radio with Dean, all the tiredness leaving your body. It turned out to be the best day of your life. You, your best friend shutting the world out and living your best life.

"Dean, stop!"

"What? Why?"

"Pull over, pull over." Dean pulled over at the side of the road as you stepped out, Dean following suit, "Look at that."

Dean followed your gaze, his breath hitching at the beautiful scene in front of him. There were a couple of swans in the middle of the lake, bowing their heads in front of each other under the moonlit sky, "Wow.."

"They are mating," You whispered.

"Mating as in banging?" You couldn't help but chuckle lightly at Dean's genuine curiosity, "What?"

"No, not yet at least," You said, keeping your voice low, "They are surrendering themselves to each other. For a lifetime. The heart they're making, it's their courtship ritual. They flutter their wings, sing and dance and bow down to each other offering each other their lifetimes. They are said to be epitome of true love. Some of them even die of heartbreak if their mate dies before them."

Dean looked at the sight, awestruck. He never saw something like this before. He could all but whisper, "That is beautiful. You think such love exists between humans?"

"Like soulmates? I don't know. I never saw any. Most of the people I saw are either together because they have to, or just break each other's hearts. You?"

"Don't know. About what you said, my parents loved each other a lot. I don't know if I can love like that though."

"Maybe when the right girl comes?"

"When the right girl comes." He looked at you with a small smile and soft eyes. You, once again, read his features. He was the most beautiful man you'd ever seen, and it reminded you everyday why you would never be deserving of him. The moonlight danced on his face gracefully, and it almost took your breath away. He was gorgeous.

"You think we can go anywhere near them? Will they run away?

You shook your head lightly, pulling yourself out of your long shot of a dream, "No they won't run away, they will attack."

"Oops"

"But we can sit a little far away from them, see that bench?" You nodded to a bench near the lake, away from the swans, "Wanna sit for a while?"

He nodded, excitedly as you made your way to the bench with your hands held together, "Y/N," Dean whispered looking at you as you sat on the worn out wooden bench, "Thanks for today. It's the most fun I had in years."

"Me too." You smiled back at him.

There was a shift in the atmosphere, which you couldn't quite comprehend. It was different with Dean tonight, almost intimate. His hand never left yours as you sat by the side of the river and you didn't try to pull away either. It felt perfect. You took a leap of faith shifting closer to him, and dare you say if it were a fragment of your imagination, you saw a little smile on his face. His thumb caressed the back of your hand, and you knew whatever it was tonight would be an unspoken story by the morning. None of you will speak a word about it, but you wanted to cherish it right now. You put your head on his shoulder and he let out a sigh, returning the gesture and bringing your joined hands to his lap. You sat together in silence, seeing the mute swans at a distance singing out their love for each other.

"I'm sorry," you whispered after a while.

"For?" He whispered back, none of you wanted to break the trance you were in.

"For yesterday. I was a bitch, you didn't deserve that."

He sighed, "Sweetheart, don't beat yourself up for that."

"I don't understand why you put up with me. All I do is hurt you."

"You know what you do? You cheer me up when I'm down. You hug me outside a party house when you see that I'm struggling. You join me for movies on Friday nights and I absolutely love that. And you know what more? When you think you messed up, you come and make up for it. You don't just let it pass, or get away with it. You don't go back to being friends again acting like nothing happened, you own up to your mistakes and apologize. You make things right. Maybe we don't talk about ourselves a lot with each other, but the nights that are hard for me, I always think that I'm not alone. That there's a girl out there rooting for me, that I matter to someone and she will miss me if I am gone. You keep me going, Y/N and that is why I put up with you."

Chapter—6(2)

A/N: So yeah, the second chapter is coming right up. I hope it's not too much for one day. Also, feedback is greatly appreciated.

Btw, I LOVE YOU ALL.

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[tossertozier]

you mentioned possibly doing a ben or mike writing guide.. would you.. be willing to post a mike one. i'm plotting a fic and im struggling to get my mans down?? also i think abt ur fics weekly bare minimum.

hi there!!! i did my best. i tried to not sound preachy or like a know it all bc y’all know i can barely write. i hope this is helpful in some way!! disclaimer of of course this is all just my opinion & there’s no wrong way to write, you’re the only person who can tell your story!!

[[MORE]]

i think the first really important decision you have to make as Person Writing Mike is his

family & background

-are both of his parents alive?

-if yes, what’s their relationship like?

-if no, who’s his primary caretaker? what’s their relationship like?

-if no, when did they die? did he cope well with it? what’s his relationship with their memory like?

these are really really where you gotta start to write mike imo. or any character! i think one thing stephen king is to be admired for is he doesn’t neglect the parent-child relationship as so many people who write youth do. your parents are the most important people in your life for a long time. i don’t think there’s a wrong or ooc way to answer the above questions tbh. canon has really left a wide open field for you to run amuck in.

(example: i’ve mentioned in the past that my & tfat mike being a small adult is no mistake and intentional. it’s a bit of a throwaway scene, but i mention in on pointe that mike’s parents are coming. it’s intentionally done there too. mike is goofier, more outgoing, more immature in general in that fic in the small bits he’s in & that’s all a response to his familial life. )

culture + friendships

after you answer those questions, important follow up questions are:

-are the losers his first set of friends?

-how much social exposure has he had?

-has he dated? who is he attracted to?

-who influences him? (celebrities, family, culturally)

-what are his cultural interests? what does he do in his free time? how would that impact how he interacts with the rest of the world?

again, no wrong way to answer these. i’ve seen a super broad spectrum of indirect answers to these questions. even thinking about where he might pick up patterns of speech can make him feel much more like a realized character. i’ve noticed some people dip fully into aave to an extent that doesn’t even seem logical in their character’s current situation & it can really seem like a caricature, but i think to write mike without any sense of aave at all is a little ?? too. just be cognizant of it is my only real advice here. it doesn’t so much matter as long as you don’t forget who mike is which next point

humor & personality

-what do you think he would find (shows, comedians, youtube videos) really funny?

-does he have something he quotes often? something he started saying ironically but never stopped?

man i know i’m all there’s no wrong way to write mike !! in this post but i will say real quick that i think mike is funny and i don’t really respect depictions of him where he’s not. i think this is where the movies really just fucked up. book mike drops some of the funniest lines of the book. and honest to god tip is to write out a scene as you feel the urge too, look away for five minutes, look back and give half of richie’s lines away. (or... dialogue.) this sounds like a joke but it was what i did when i first started writing & tfat

i’d always be like “n the funny part goes... to richie.” and thats a fandom inclination too. nooooo. avoid this trap. it doesn’t even make sense. have u ever been in a friend group where only one person... makes jokes? that’d be genuinely so weird. especially bc if you give the joke away to someone else, you can also build on it. amazing things start happening when u start thinking of the characters in flexible patterns. like for example, i almost always give absurdist humor to stan now. wholesome to ben.

mike’s humor is largely situational to me. solid comedic timing & he’s an observant person. sometimes i read back my own writing & have to change the pov bc richies making jokes about things he would never ever notice to make fun of. mike would. mike genuinely sees all. i think he’s just got one of the most analytical brain of the losers. & i think intelligence is subjective and people are smart in different ways but i think it’s foolish to write him as anything other than incredibly intelligent both academically and emotionally. he’s just a natural observer and pattern notice-er. which brings me to my next mike thing:

love & selflessness

i think the biggest part of mike being harder to flesh into a fully realized person is the fandom tendency to make him kind and nothing else. here’s mike. he’s nice. next. bc the book kind of points out his selflessness in his decisions and it makes itself one of his strongest character traits.

especially bc nice seems to trump him having any other emotions. ...no?

i believe in general, but ESPECIALLY in the case of mike, that kindness is a choice. it’s one i genuinely believe he’d make, over & over again. but a choice he makes. he gets annoyed with his friends being annoying like anyone else would. he gets hurt when he feels left out. he feels tired & anxious & hungry and all those other human things. sometimes he might not let it show outwardly, but there’s a difference between that and not giving him feelings at all.

people are selfish. it’s a defense mechanism. it’s to protect us. it’s not a bad thing. we think of how the world impacts ourselves first. we don’t always act upon those thoughts or voice them, but don’t forget to let mike have them. he doesn’t need to be happy for his friends all the time, or rooting for them or supportive. he should have his own things going on.

also. mike’s not a doormat. yes, he stays in derry. but those were life-death consequences for generations of children. it’s really not comparable to almost any decision mike would make in a pennywise free universe. yes, he made a sacrifice in the book but i don’t think he’d just lay himself down in any given universe to whatever fate wants to hand him. but this is where i end this topic bc i’m actually only barely beginning to get to this topic in my own fic!

it’s hard writing the losers young sometimes bc i do feel relationships are naturally a little unbalanced based on basic maturity levels as young people. sometimes friendships just are unbalanced bc of who people are at that time. everyone involved can still be good people in these relationships. it’s about growing together and learning how to be good friends to each other.

for example, in &tfat: certain losers are always checking in with others. others are really wrapped up in their own shit and don’t really notice what bothers the others. it would probably take a chart the size of a textbook to explain how i think this dynamic wholly pans out in full. and yeah, i think it grates on mike a little bit that he is always the checker and never the checkee.

but even when mike snaps, even when he gets upset, i always write it coming out of him with a lot of love. i genuinely think mike, regardless of experience in that fic, has the deepest understanding of love as its own concept and an understand of how exactly it rules his life and and his relationships. mike knows to feel strongly about something he has to care about it. there are lots of things he just doesn’t care about. in the book it’s stated he’s difficult to connect with as an adult. he’s distant. he’s focused on what he wants to focus on. i think mike is actually the most interesting when he becomes a little bit of a disaster man with very little time for what doesn’t interest him.

which last thing, dislikes & disinterests

-what annoys him?

-what makes him genuinely angry?

-what bores him to tears?

i always make jokes that i bring up the nastier parts of the losers bc i love nasty boys but thinking of things people don’t like is as much a part of them as the things they do.

for example, in &tfat, i write richie as making fun of “nerdy” things like anything you could find at comic con. i write bev as not giving a fuck about sports. bill doesn’t care about richie’s music tastes. eddie hates getting condescended to.

bc of the ... kind thing, mike’s one of the harder losers to do this with. i genuinely think mike would listen to any of his friends tell him about anything. & he knows, in return, they can’t say shit when he wants to ramble about history. but dislikes can also be super situational.

again, for example in & tfat: mike doesn’t like when his friends talk about college right now. no one is really being sensitive to him at all. he hates getting blamed for stuff that isn’t his fault, mostly bc it keeps happening.

anyway. i based a lot of my mike (mostly sense of humor and personality) off of a mix of real life friends of mine. it’s a luxury. i know. i’ve been blessed to have friends from literally all walks of life & for me borrowing little habits & quirks & sayings & jokes to slip into my fics and characters is my way of writing one massive love letter to those ive known. i hope i’ve helped you in some way anon. n if not.... don’t be sad i’m hardly one to take writing advice from anyway jandjxjx

overall, as i used to do often, i’d genuinely stop myself and say: is this a person, or a convenience for the plot? and if it was the latter, sigh, and get my backspace key ready.

[lihikainanea]

sleepy tiger asking bill to brush her hair because she's too exhausted to do it herself so he sits her between his long ass legs and does it for her even giving her head scratches till she falls asleep on him (i need this i'm soft as hell rn)

Listen, my people with anxiety--whether you call it that or not--we know this feeling, right? This feeling of being so stuck in your own head, caught in the same cycle of thoughts that are spinning CIRCLES around you and you can’t get out? It manifests in different ways for different people. For me, my empath side gets fucking obliterated and I get lost in the details and swarms of emotions that are not mine. I’ll see someone, the body language on someone, I’ll see a photograph, and if my head isn’t right, the emotions I read and absorb off of something as small as that will have me reeling for days. I’ll obsess over the circumstances--what made that person have that look on their face? Why did he/she turn around like that? What did that person say to them? How is this person feeling when that person said that thing? It’s endless, detail-oriented obsession that is incredibly hard to break out of, and usually leads to me taking some form of sleeping pill just to get a few hours of RELIEF where my brain isn’t tormenting me with emotions that were never mine to take on in the first place. And what happens after that is usually a total shut down, for me--it’s apathy. I become so overwhelmed with so many emotions and thoughts that in an act of sheer preservation, my brain shuts down all of it and I just stop caring. About everything. A shower? Fuck you. Groceries? I don’t want to eat. Cleaning? there’s no point. Packing for an impending trip? I’ll figure it the fuck out when I get there because I just don’t care. I can’t care anymore.

This got...this got weird. I’m sorry. 

My point is, sometimes it’s incredibly hard--especially if you’re alone--to pull yourself out when these moods hit. Touch sometimes does it for me--good touch, from people whose energy is balanced and kind and calm--and perhaps it’s the same for tiger.

Maybe she’s exhausted because she’s physically tired, maybe she’s exhausted because she’s just so incredibly drained and Bill feels that she’s slipping further and further away from him with every day that she’s so overwhelmed with emotions. Talking won’t help her, and any time he tries to touch her too much, she retreats even more--so he has to keep it simple. I mentioned before how I HC that Bill is a master of the French braid, and he knows that tiger really enjoys having her hair played with. So maybe that’s how he keeps her with him, keeps at least some of her mind here in the present and focused on something that is not a figment of her insanely active imagination.

He’d have to coax her to shower, but sometimes when your brain is shut off to that degree, somebody telling you to do something kinda helps and you just...obey. So she does, and he tells her to wash her hair, so she does. And when she gets out he already has the brush in hand. Tells her to sit down in front of him, so she does. And he doesn’t kiss her, doesn’t try to hug her, because that would just be too much for her now--but he just gently runs his fingers through her hair, gets some of the bigger knots out before he takes the brush. And when he starts to brush her hair, he notices that after a few seconds she does just...kind of relax. Not a lot, but enough that he picks up on it.

So Good Dude Bill just....he just keeps doing exactly that. Just brushing her hair slowly, until her cheek kinda leans on his leg, and he notices that she finally fell asleep.

[goth-giraffe]

🖊 + your cyborg character (I mean? Cyborg?? Tell me more! xD) 🖊 + for any of your OCs (I'm just really curious to get to know more of your characters :D) I wold also suggest another one for Meredith... (if you want to ramble more about her xD)

Oh awesome! Yeah I always love to ramble about my OCs, I just wish I had more motivation to draw them haha xD Maybe this’ll help though- thank you!

Kaedyn~

Ah- my cyborg character is a pretty underdeveloped, for instance I’m not entirely sure on all their technological enhancements. They basically have really fancy prosthetics in place of at least one leg and one arm too. But anyway I’d love to ramble about them anyway! Their name is Kaedyn and they’re nonbinary! (I use neutral or feminine pronouns with them, I’m currently trying to use they/them but sometimes I slip up- it’s mostly because of my indecisiveness, but I don’t know, maybe they’re genderfluid?) And they live in a futuristic setting which is part of the reason they’re a bit underdeveloped compared to some of my other OCs, because I’m a dummy that wants to create characters in weird settings in theory, but then you have to come up with all these things about the setting to get to know the character better so… haha yeah.

But anyway! Kaedyn is really smart about some things but also very competitive. Not the type to back down from a dare. Whether it’s eating something gross or fighting the Hulk, to be honest… (And that may have had something to do with them losing a couple limbs, but who knows.) They call themself a cyborg mostly to intimidate people to be honest… there are still a lot of prejudices about cyborgs. And they do have at least two fully functioning robotic limbs so. Anyway they get kind of a “Don’t mess with a cyborg” attitude when people look at them weird or are just in general being rude.

They’re dating Numbers, who’s kind of the opposite of Kaedyn - she’s more of a brooding genius type. And she works for her eccentric aunt’s robotics company. They supply robotic prosthetics and other medical stuff like that, and yeah I imagine that’s how they met each other- Kaedyn calls in for tech support and talks past the remote control hologram or whatever, and immediately starts flirting when they start talking to an alive being… which was Numbers. Numbers speaks exclusively in number code though, and she doesn’t talk to a lot of real people (she lives with robots and her aunt Madlin) because a lot of people don’t understand her. But Kaedyn is smart, especially with mathematics and deciphering things so it doesn’t take them long to understand, and they think Numbers is adorable so, basically their relationship is the “extrovert takes introvert under their wing” trope.

Anyway, they like inventing things together. Kaedyn has a degree in engineering (or something? details fuzzy, sorry) and loves tinkering with stuff or rather tearing stuff apart pbbt and Numbers brainstorms schematics for new robots and stuff. Kaedyn is actually really smart, you just don’t see that a lot with their beat stuff up until it’s fixed attitude. (I don’t know if anyone here has seen The Red Green Show but Kaedyn’s motto? “If it ain’t broke you’re not trying!”) Besides that they cuddle or deal with Numbers’ mood swings… and eventually Madlin disappears and they have to take care of this prototype robot which is basically an experiment in artificial mental illness. …Which is not as fun as it sounds. xD

Oh. And Kaedyn refers to Numbers exclusively as “babe”. (Numbers is a nickname but her real name is actually undecided so…… Kaedyn just gives her another nickname haha.)

Okay. I get the feeling I am making absolutely no sense, I’m sorry. Mostly this is like, a vague comic idea I had? Mad scientist aunt disappears, no one really knows where. Her introverted niece has to take care of a prototype robot who thinks he’s a child and is kind of scared of everything… and cope with her partner who picks fights with anyone. …Yeah when I think about this goofy little story I for some reason imagine them in a black and white comic style. Like, Kaedyn’s got their tools and a broken robot on the table and they’re like “Babe where’s my wrench” while they’re scratching their head with it. Very smart but also very stupid is one of my favourite tropes ahaha  

Okay I’m not sure who to ramble about next?? My characters are so underdeveloped, good golly.

Nicholas~

I’m gonna ramble about him even though I have seriously been thinking he needs a lot of work, I’ve actually been considering giving him a new name but, anyway.

He’s in a weird fantasy setting and he’s a dragon! His race of dragons though are basically humans that have can transform into dragons. Except the horns, tails, wing stumps, and some of them have weird eyes. But dragons have some magic and if they master it they can hide those things while they’re in their human form. Nicholas himself though has really only figured out how to get rid of the wing stumps. Still sleeps on his tummy out of habit though.

Nicholas is probably the most innocent character I have, to be honest. He’s very soft- he really likes flowers, braiding his hair or having his hair braided, also he’s very curious about humans. Which is weird for dragons, most of them think of humans as either very dangerous or mid-afternoon snacks. But Nicholas was raised differently, so he’s curious. Not to mention lonely. Dragons are actually pretty rare and he only ever met his parents, but he doesn’t remember his father very well (who died when he was young) and since his mother died in his teens he’s been alone.

I imagine at some point he befriends a witch and they possibly become a love interest for him but this is where it gets fuzzy and undecided. I do like to imagine he meets a human character and becomes close to them, I just haven’t really decided how that happens or if he meets just one witch or a family/household or what. But he also finds out he likes poetry, but he’s illiterate so he has to have someone read it to him. I imagine this in medieval times, so not many people can read but that’s also why I imagine a witch character because. Learning from spellbooks I guess. And just generally not really being part of the human population… and not being scared of dragons. Even though Nicholas would probably not scare many people pbbbt. xD Yeah, anyway. He likes to be read to.

I don’t know, most of my characters are just kind of vague ideas. He’s just a cute little forest creature who happens to be able to grow really big and breath fire. xD I’ve thought about making a more modern AU which would probably be easier to develop but yeah I really can’t decide.

Anyway, except for a couple forgettable doodles I haven’t actually drawn Nicholas… but fortunately, I do have an awesome drawing of him by @iridiscreate! I hope to do a serious drawing of him myself sometime, but I’m actually okay with that being his main reference for now- he looks very pretty! :D

Meredith~

Oh I’ll pretty much always take any chances to ramble about Meredith! Haha she’s the OC I know the most about to be honest xD

The first time her hair was cut short was because her mom was tired of having to chase her down to brush it. So there was a time when she was pretty young that her parents made her wear these big bows in her hair when she went out… she hated them, she still hates them, and her mom still tries to convince her to wear them when she comes to visit, because she cut her hair again. (Yeah… she has some family issues…)

Okay, Meredith loves music. She has kind of a complicated relationship with it, but she loves music. She usually has classical music playing in the background at her apartment, while she’s reading or whatever. She also plays violin, but she’s weird about that, she doesn’t usually listen to it when she plays (she wears ear plugs), and she mostly uses it as an outlet when her emotions get the better of her. She was much more enthusiastic about violin when she was a girl. She’s always had a love of music, it kind of runs in her family. She originally wanted to play piano like her grandfather (who was a singer/pianist in a bar) but her father wouldn’t allow that. Though when the violin option was allowed she was very excited, and when she was little she dreamed of being a concert violinist. Her parents mostly favoured violin because of the discipline it would require to learn and practice, and their past attempts to discipline her? Ehh, not so great. xD In the end though her parents killed her enthusiasm for violin. Their habit of displaying their daughters’ talents to their friends but otherwise having little interest was a bit discouraging… and for Meredith, very damaging. The older she got and the more she thought about it she felt her parents were disinterested in her from the start, so that led to a very rocky teenage years. (For instance she spent ages two to six (ish) being sent to her grandparents’ house a lot. Not with her sisters, no, just her- because she was being difficult and her parents were tired of her. So that hurt when she really thought about it.) So… anyway now she kind of loves and hates violin. Now when she plays it still brings her back to being the trophy her parents preferred to keep on the back of the shelf, but it also brings her back to being the little girl who was in love with music… so. Mixed feelings there. …

Did I have way too many Meredith feels while I was writing this and have to edit out most of my emotions later? NO absolutely not I’m not crying you are SHUSH

Oof I know I’ve already rambled a lot but one more thing. Just a cute little fact, not exactly about Meredith but still. She is her nephew Aidan’s favourite aunt. He’s like four years old and has blonde hair with bright blue tips, because he begged his mother (Meredith’s sis Jessie) to dye his hair blue. Anyway yeah, Meredith is pretty good with kids… they probably like her because she’s so weird. Funny though, because with her looking pretty much like the insomniac goth mess she is, she definitely doesn’t give off any maternal vibes to anyone else she meets… except kids. (It’s the blue hair again, it has magical powers. Haha okay I’m kidding. xD)

Anyway! Sorry for getting this answered so late ahh!! I swear I wasn’t avoiding this ask (I was actually very excited about it) but I kept getting interrupted in the middle of rambling so.. yeah. Anyway thank you again for the ask!! Sorry I rambled an ungodly amount!! xD

Send me a 🖊 to make me ramble about my OCs! (yeah no kidding about the rambling)

[artificialqueens]

Do you know what I'm seeing? (Trixya) - Pichitinha

A/N: ok hello guys! i am back after a few months of silence and i’ve a… humorous fit for you, maybe? it’s told through violet’s poverties to changes things a bit, i do hope you’ll like it! if you’re interested my tumblr is @pichitinha and this fit can be found in AO3.

Summary: So Violet’s always aware of anything that’s happening in school, always knows when a rule is about to be created or when a student will have their parents called in or when a teacher is in trouble. Nothing escapes Violet’s radar. Needless to say, then, she’s extremely affronted when Mrs. Zamo is introduced to them on a Wednesday afternoon as the new gymnastics instructor and takes everyone by surprise. - Or the one where Violet does not like not knowing things.

Violet Chachki is not one for gossip - or so she’d say to everyone, as she gossips. She thinks it’s important that as a select group of teachers at a high prestige school they all keep informed about what’s been going on with the faculty. Any slips could cause issues for their reputation - it has before - and Violet likes earning more money than she should because the school is fancy and has lots of friendly parents, as she likes to call them.

So Violet’s always aware of anything that’s happening in school, always knows when a rule is about to be created or when a student will have their parents called in or when a teacher is in trouble. Nothing escapes Violet’s radar.

Needless to say, then, she’s extremely affronted when Mrs. Zamo is introduced to them on a Wednesday afternoon as the new gymnastics instructor and takes everyone by surprise.

She’s a short caucasian woman with light blonde hair that falls in straight locks but curves a little bit at the end, framing her face in a really flattering way that highlights her sharp cheekbones and the bright red lipstick she’s wearing. She’s lean and has an amazing posture, but that’s the least that Violet would expect from a gymnastics teacher.

Violet’s wary.

She doesn’t like the mysterious vibe the woman gives off, doesn’t understand why no one knew she was coming to work there until the exact moment she walked into the door. Something’s up and Violet can smell it.

The last person to join the team before Mrs. Zamo had been Mrs. Mattel, the music teacher. That had been a proper hiring at the beginning of the school year and she had started work on a Monday morning like one should and Violet had been aware of her coming two weeks prior, enough time for her to manage gathering a few facts about her from the school director: that she’d been a music teacher before, had a theatre degree from a fancy school and that she was married but had no children.

Albeit not a lot to know about a person, but more than she currently does about Zamo which is really pissing her off.

She tunes back to reality when she realizes that the Dean Mrs. Charles is walking towards her with Mrs. Zamo close behind. “Oh, and Miss Chachki- Violet! This is Katya, Katya this is Violet.” She introduces them briefly, but leaves no time for them to shake hands or properly meet. “Violet, please give Katya a tour? Show her how the three main rooms she’ll be using for her classes work, please. Alyssa is late again and I can’t afford to wait.” And with that she leaves, doesn’t say goodbye or even acknowledge them, but raises her head in a dignified way that’s supposed to leave them impressed - and usually they make fun of.

“Katya, is it? Weird name.”

People tend to tell Violet she can be rude sometimes, what they don’t know is that it’s on purpose.

Katya smiles though, doesn’t seem to mind. “Yeah, it’s Russian.”

“Are you Russian?!” That’s the type of thing Violet should have already known!She’s entirely too uncomfortable at the moment, knowing as much about the woman as she does about her.

“Born and raised. Until the age of five, that is.” She laughs a little at that but Violet just blinks. “Then I moved to Boston, as you can probably tell.”

She does have a Bostonian accent and she seems pretty keen on sharing details of her life, so maybe Violet won’t have such a hard time - Trixie, for example, is a problem, Violet’s barely learned anything about her in the two months she’s been working there.

“Well, Katya from Russia, follow me.”

Violet really hopes she manages to learn more about the new teacher as she gives her a tour. She is, after all, the informal information resource of the faculty.

*

“Have you met her yet? She’s super weird,” Violet tells Fame as they’re walking into the teacher’s lounge after the morning classes. “Morning, Trixie.” She greets nonchalantly and sits down at the nearest table, far from where Trixie’s eating at the other side of the room - right under the air-conditioning which is why Violet avoids it at all times.

“Morning,” Trixie greets back, eyebrows a little raised but Violet brings her attention back to Fame. Reading Trixie is too hard and Violet’s given up not long after she first started trying.

“No, I just saw her in the morning when Mrs. Charles was introducing her. She looks nice though,” Fame replies as she sits down next to Violet, nods quickly at Trixie as well.

“I mean, I guess.” She does look nice, but Violet is more interested in whether or not she’ll act nice at school. “And she’s really pretty,” she adds because it’s true and because as bad as it is the board prouds themselves on the appearance of the faculty.

Trixie sits up straighter and Violet sees it from the corner of her eyes but ignores it. Truth be told she finds Trixie a bit weird.

“She’s married though,” Fame reminds Violet as if that’s what Violet was going for.

“Aren’t they all?” she jokes back, knows Fame knows her better than that.

Trixie’s fork clatters on the table. “Sorry!” she exclaims when both of them look at her.

Fame looks back to Violet and then raises her eyebrows, “Wait, you are engaged, actually.”

Violet scoffs, now annoyed. “I’m not because-” she looks around and when she does so Trixie averts her gaze, previously clearly paying attention to them. She lowers her voice just in case, “I’m not because Pearl’s a fucking chicken, I’ve seen her take the damn ring box to our dates three times and she never asks!”

Violet is not in any hurry to get married, but if Pearl is going to ask then she could just ask already, pretending not to know is killing her.

“Did you know chickens are actually really brave?” Fame asks instead of offering any advice on Violet’s relationship. She has that look on her face she gets when she’s talking about something she finds exciting and Violet sighs even if she smiles a bit.

Fame is also a bit weird.

“I do - in fact I know way more about chickens than I ever thought I would or find necessary. Thank you for that.”

“Well-” Fame is interrupted midway when the door opens and in come Katya and Alyssa, now finally together, as it is common in the school that the dance and the gymnastics teachers follow each other’s class plan. Katya looks comfortable already, maybe a bit tired, but that’s just what spending time with Alyssa does.

“Hey, girls! Any seat for me?” Alyssa asks loudly already pulling up the last chair on their small table and sitting down by Violet’s side. Katya just stands there, food in hand, her gaze moving from their table with no extra seats to Trixie, who is sitting by herself and has two spots available.

“Do you want to sit here?” Trixie eventually asks, offers her a warm smile, and Katya smiles right back before nodding to them and moving over there.

Something is… off. Katya seems like a very extroverted and friendly person, it doesn’t really fit with that image to want to sit alone with the quiet girl on the other side of the room instead of sitting with the majority of the girls. And yet she goes with a smile and seems happy about it. She sits down in the chair nearest to Trixie as opposed to the one in front of her and they soon start talking.

Violet doesn’t think she’s ever seen Trixie chat so freely with anyone who isn’t Kim - and Kim had been her friend before she joined the team, she recommended her to the position. Between everyone else she’s probably closest to Bob, but she didn’t warm up to her this fast.

What is going on?

“Maybe we should all sit together,” she says out loud and Trixie and Katya look at her. “We all want to get to know Katya and it wouldn’t hurt to know a bit more about Trixie, right?”

Katya and Trixie exchange a brief look that Violet can’t decipher from where she is, but she’s determined to learn more and she won’t back down.

“Yeah, come on, let’s move to the bigger table,” Alyssa decides for them, loud and decisive as usual. They all join her at the communal table in the middle of the room, Katya and Trixie still side by side, opposite Violet and Fame.

Perfect. Now Violet just needs to figure what and how to ask things that will give her the most information.

“So, Katya-” she directs her gaze at her and Katya just raises her eyebrows. People usually shy away from Violet’s scrutinizing gaze, but not her. It feels like a challenge, almost. “Are you married?”

Katya just raises her left hand and wriggles her fingers, showcasing the wedding band. “Yep.”

Usually when she asks that people say a little bit more than yes or no. She asked Trixie when she started working there and she’d said yes, about two years now. She waits for Katya to elaborate or say anything else but she just starts eating again.

“Has it been long?” Violet tries to never seem like she’s prying, the questions have to be perfectly crafted so that she can receive more than what she’s asking and so it doesn’t look like she was too curious.

Especially because it isn’t curiosity. It’s caution.

“We’ve been together for several years, yes.” That’s not what Violet asked, but it is a piece of information nonetheless. “How about you? Married?”

It takes Violet by surprise, people don’t usually ask her stuff back. Trixie coughs by Katya’s side.

“I- no. Not married.”

“Weren’t you engaged?” Alyssa asks then and they all look at her with raised eyebrows, even Fame who’d just asked this.

How is she the center of this, now? “Uh, nope. Just dating.”

“And you, Fame? Married?” Katya asks shifting her attention before Violet has a chance to think of what else to ask and Violet is not sure how but she completely lost control of the conversation. Suddenly Fame is talking about her wife and her dogs and then Alyssa is talking about the last date she went on and Katya hasn’t said anything else about herself - and neither has Trixie, for that matter.

They do chime in in whatever everyone else is saying and the good side of it all is that they don’t bat an eye at Fame having a wife instead of a husband - not homophobic, or at least not blatantly so, - but Violet doesn’t find a breach to ask anything about them that wouldn’t make her look nosy so she just accepts it. It’s not a wasted lunch because she finds them funny and pleasant and Katya fits right in with the rest of them, but still she hasn’t learned enough.

She’s gonna have to keep trying.

*

Thing is, Violet does what she does because she cares. They’d had not one but two incidents in the past regarding personal scandals on the faculty and they’d lost several of the important parents’ donations in both. One had been an affair between a teacher and a (married) parent, the other had been an affair between two (married) teachers which would have been less bad except they later learned that the two were also stealing money from the school.

Violet has been working there for years - she studied at one of the siblings schools, prides herself on the place more than she cares to admit. Yes, it is a bit posh and considerably overpriced, but they do the best they can with the children, teach them the most, give them attention, affection, discipline. There are five schools in the group in a range of three cities and maybe Violet didn’t study at that particular one because it’s new, but she was there when it opened, had been one of their first hirings and she’s so proud of herself for it. She wants this school to be the best. She wants to give to those children what she felt as a kid - her teachers were much more than that, and that’s what she wants to be.

So when she pries on the new staff, it’s for their own protection. People who are too secretive usually have something to hide and it churns Violet’s stomach to imagine that. What could they be hiding? A murder? Maybe that’s a stretch but Violet can’t absolutely say they aren’t.

Plus all the nagging usually leads to them all being friends and that’s a good thing. Making friends as an adult is hard, so when you get along with your colleagues enough that it migrates to that - that’s lucky, right? Fame is easily one of her closest friends and that had happened by Violet asking so much about her life that one day they just were good friends.

Violet spends the entirety of Katya’s first week there observing and trying to steal quick conversations here and there so that it doesn’t look like much. She doesn’t learn a lot, but she gathers a few facts - most of them a lot less useful than expected.

Katya wears a silver wedding band because it turns out she’s allergic to gold - which, by the way, is a very rare allergy.

Katya does speak Russian fluently but she’s actually much better in French - which she used to teach before deciding that she liked teaching gymnastics more and switched completely.

Katya does not have any kids and doesn’t know if she ever will, she has a niece and a nephew and she’s content with them.

That’s pretty much all she’s actually said about herself, other than comments on books she’s read or movies she’s watched.

Violet learns a few things by observation, though.

Katya most likely used to smoke and quit recently because sometimes her fingers itch just like Pearl’s did when she quit.

Katya really likes coffee.

Katya gets to school on foot.

Obviously the last one is the one that nags at Violet’s mind. Katya arrives at school ten minutes before the first class every day and she always does so walking. She’s always well dressed and wearing heels and Violet could even be willing to accept that she might take the bus because “it’s better for the environment” or whatever some people would say, except she always walks in from the left side of the school and the only bus stop near them is on the right side.

When Violet asks Katya if she lives nearby, Katya denies.

Violet doesn’t like this. She likes Katya, she’s a fun new addition and all the teachers seem to find her funny and pleasant, but once Violet realizes the walking thing… there’s just no logical explanation to it and it’s not like walking in heels to school from not nearby means she’s a serial killer, but it means something.

“Good morning,” Violet greets everyone when she enters the teacher’s lounge the following Monday and they all say it back in their own time. To her surprise Katya is already there, even though it’s still twenty minutes until the first bell. That’s a change of events and Violet is even more curious now.

Katya is sitting with Bob and Trixie and the three seem very engrossed in the conversation. She grabs a cup of coffee and joins them without a second thought.

“Good morning, ladies. What are we discussing?” She finds that bluntness usually works well with her personality and people tend to find it charming.

“How the three of us hate the California weather.” Trixie replies and Violet is delighted by that. Trixie is still someone Violet needs to learn a lot about and she seems to be more present recently so Violet is eager to do that too.

“Where are you guys from, again?”

“Wisconsin-”

“Boston!”

“Good old New York City.”

They reply all at once.

“Oh, right. You guys probably like snow.” She wrinkles her nose, she hates the cold weather. But if they do hate California then that’s just another thing to add to her list - why do they live there?

“Where are you from, Violet?” Trixie asks genuinely interested.

“Atlanta.”

“Oof,” they all exclaim.

She laughs. “Hey, it’s a great place okay!” Or at least twelve-year-old Violet thought so before they moved to LA where she’s been living ever since.

Bob laughs, “If you say so, girl.”

For the remaining of their time before class they just discuss their childhood and Violet doesn’t ask anymore important questions about the girls - not Bob, she’s known her for two years and she’s solid.

She forgets to ask why Katya got there so early.

*

Katya is there early every day after that and Violet almost forgets her suspicions, except now she’s already there when Violet arrives so she doesn’t know if she’s still walking. When she recounts this to Pearl one night after work, Pearl tells her that she’s crazy and should stop worrying so much about other people’s lives - sometimes they’re just private and that’s okay.

When Violet tries to argue, Pearl asks how many people at work know that the person she’s dating is a woman. She claims that it’s different, she has no obligation to come out, and Pearl just points out that she’s right and maybe the teachers that won’t share much just feel the same way about whatever it is they’re not telling.

Violet hates that she’s right.

That Friday instead of leaving early as she often does since she doesn’t have the last class, Violet decides to stay and finish some grading in the teacher’s lounge where it’ll be empty and quiet and she can probably finish it faster. She doesn’t really notice when the last bell rings, so absorbed into the paper she’s reading, and she’s surprised when the door opens and in come Trixie and Katya, laughing loudly at each other. They stop in their tracks when they notice Violet inside, laughter dying down awkwardly as they move to their lockers. Violet can see that Trixie has a faint blush on her cheeks and it’s definitely not her makeup.

Huh.

“Hey, Vi,” Trixie calls out as she picks up her stuff. “Working late today?”

“Yeah…” she replies, eyebrows raised. “Had to catch up on a few assignments and since I don’t have this class I just figured it was the best time to do so.”

“Right,” Trixie agrees, clearly uncomfortable. Just then Kim and Bob walk in and greet them and Trixie takes the cue to wish them a good weekend before leaving, Katya not far behind with similar words.

Violet isn’t saying there’s something there.

But there’s something there.

“Don’t you think Trixie is a little weird?” she asks out loud once Trixie has left.

Kim just stares at her for a second before going back to her locker. “I think Trixie is very weird, but also you know she’s my best friend, so I’m allowed to think that, you aren’t.”

This could have turned into a very unpleasant situation, but thankfully Bob laughs and the vibe in the room follows hers.

“She’s just private, you need to get through the shell,” Bob provides as she once again searches her entire closet for something which is most likely not in it. She does this every time.

“I’ve been trying!” And she has, Violet only stopped snooping on Bob six months after she joined, there’s still a long way for Trixie before Violet can fully trust her.

“Not like you’re a PI!” Bob laughs. “Just talk to her like you talk to us.”

Violet scrunches her eyebrows. A PI? Really? “What?”

“Most of the time you’re fine, but sometimes it seems like you’re interrogating people,” Kim tries to explain.

“Sometimes it’s not even that bad, but it definitely feels like an interview at least,” Bob says.

“Yeah,” Kim agrees. “And people like Trixie don’t really like that. I know you worry about the school, but I promise you, Trixie is cool and a good person. Don’t worry so much and try to get to know her. If you got past Max then you can get past anyone.”

Violet chuckles. “God, you’re right, Max was a work of her own.” Max was a shell within a box within a locked chest and Violet managed to get to know her before she moved to the east coast. So yeah, no one can be harder.

“Anyway, I’m not interested in overtime today. Have a good weekend!” Kim says as she leaves and Violet just stays in there as every teacher comes back and exits with a goodbye.

Maybe she should try to worry less - problem is it’s easier said than done.

*

Violet would love not to worry because she trusts Kim and if Kim vouches for Trixie, fine. But no one is vouching for Katya and she and Trixie seem to get along way too well, which is extremely surprising to Violet - how did Katya manage to get close to her so fast and also how did Trixie out of all of them manage to be the first to befriend Katya?

Violet starts to notice how they seem to always exchange words when they bump into each other in the hall, and almost always sit together during lunch, even though usually not by themselves. It’s been a few weeks since Katya arrived and they already act closer than Trixie and Kim and that’s something that puts Violet on alert again.

Sure, she’s managed to learn more about them in the time that’s passed, even if she can’t possibly ask everything she wants - she knows where the caution ends and her own curiosity starts and she never crosses the line. Getting to know your colleagues happens slowly but surely either way, and so far she’s listened to Trixie play guitar and learned that Katya lived in Europe for a while, for example.

They’re all adjusting as a group, even having gone out together for drinks one day. There Violet couldn’t help but notice how Trixie was opening up more and more recently, which is somewhat suspicious, and mainly she noticed that Katya knew what drinks Trixie likes and vice-versa.

She would love to let it go but there’s just something that doesn’t add up.

On the following Wednesday she spends most of her lunch time paying attention to them to see if anything can be learned by observation. At some point someone asks her something and she gets distracted and when she looks up again she can’t find them. Probably back to class early to set things up.

She finishes her food and excuses herself with a few minutes to spare before the bell rings and she has to go to her next class, goes quickly to the bathroom to use the loo and check herself in the mirror one more time before the rest of the day.

When she opens the door the scare on the two people inside is almost palpable. Katya is leaning her back on the sink and Trixie is close to her, her right hand on Katya’s face, her thumb brushing over her upper lip where Violet can see her lipstick is a bit smeared. Their faces are turned towards her, eyes wide like deer caught in headlights, and Violet’s brain can’t come up with an explanation for that on the spot, but it feels like she should.

For seconds none of them move, but then as soon as she takes another step inside the two of them break further apart with Trixie taking a step back.

“Yeah, you were right, this lipstick will definitely need makeup remover to be fixed.” Trixie says with a concentrated face. “Maybe I have makeup wipes in my purse, I’ll go check.” And with that she’s gone, Katya still leaning on the sink and looking at Violet. She blinks twice.

“Uh…” Violet murmurs because she’s not sure what to say. What just happened?

“Forgot I had this stupid lipstick on and cleaned my mouth with my hand. It smeared a bit but now it won’t come off.”

“Oh. Well, I definitely have makeup wipes if Trixie doesn’t have them,” she offers because it’s true and because that’s happened to her many times before, which is precisely why she carries wipes. It could make sense, if not for the way they’d been positioned and how surprised they looked when they saw her, but Violet just feels too stunned to properly deduce things.

“Oh, thanks! She probably has them, but if not I’ll let you know.”

“Okay.” How would she know Trixie has them?

“Okay.”

Violet uses the loo and leaves before Trixie is back, Katya still inside waiting, acting nonchalantly.

This is starting to become too suspicious.

*

Violet tells Pearl about the encounter but Pearl just brushes her off saying that Violet is probably just reading too much into it because she convinced herself that something’s up. That could be true so Violet promises that she will let it go once she figures out if Katya still walks to work from the left side of the street and if so why. That’s the one piece of mystery she wants to solve before giving up, and Pearl thinks she’s crazy but still suggests she get there early the following day anyway just so she can get this out of the way.

Violet arrives way earlier than usual and takes a seat in the teacher’s lounge right by the window above the parking lot. She’s getting ahead on some tests she has to prepare, but she keeps glancing outside as her eyes catch movement and she spots Bob’s car as the first one to arrive.

It doesn’t take long for Trixie’s car to find its way into the space and Violet is almost turning back to her computer when she sees both the driver and the passenger door opening when she parks. Out of the passenger seat comes Katya, and together they both walk towards the building, it looks like they’re laughing.

Oh my god.

Is Violet an idiot? How did she not connect the dots?

Are they having an affair?

No, no, no, no, no, this is the worst possible scenario, the school cannot handle another affair scandal, especially a lesbian one - if Violet has any chance of ever coming out at work this will ruin it, straight people tend to associate the behavior of one bad gay with all of them and this can’t happen. Fame is all of the outed quota they have and that’s because she’d been clear about being married to a woman before she was hired - but with this Violet isn’t sure even Fame wouldn’t see some consequences.

But it’s so obvious now that Violet thinks about it that she feels stupid for not noticing before. The lipstick thing in the bathroom? They were probably kissing right in there where anyone could catch them. Not only are they cheating on their husbands and breaking the school policies, but they’re being dumb about it.

And that explains how they know each other’s coffee style, their drink preference, why they seem to always be together, why Trixie started opening up after Katya joined.

They had hugged very intimately before leaving the bar the other night. Thinking now Violet can’t remember if she ever saw them leaving - did they leave together?

They are jeopardizing Violet’s future here and she will not stand for it.

The two of them enter the room with a cheerful good morning and Violet is the only one that doesn’t reply, but they don’t notice, each heading to their locker to store their purses.

Violet is so mad she can’t even fake a happy face. She forces her eyes away from them and stares at Kim’s back from where she’s sat - she said she could trust Trixie, that she was a good person. Well, Violet is gonna enjoy breaking the news to her.

Alyssa asks her if she’s fine once she notices how Violet is burning holes into the walls, but Violet plays it off as a striking headache. It works because the news spread fast and no one bothers her that day, not even her students who can see she’s in a bad mood and don’t want to be in the line of fire.

Violet has to be smart about this. She needs to have evidence, she can’t just barge into the Dean’s office and tell her that it’s happening without proof.

She needs to catch them in the act. If she’s lucky they’ll continue to be irresponsible and that will happen sooner rather than later.

*

“So, Fame.” Violet does her best so that most girls are sat together for lunch the following day. “Have you ever been cheated on?” Out of the corner of her eyes she observes Trixie and Katya, but they give no reaction at all at the mention of cheating. Violet thought they’d be worse at this.

Fame however reacts properly and just stares at her, eyebrows high on her forehead. “Excuse me?”

“Cheated on? Has someone ever cheated on you?”

Everyone is paying attention now, Violet knows she sounds very blunt, but she doesn’t care.

“Uh, no? At least not that I know of?”

“Cool,” she replies. “And have you ever cheated?”

“What? Of course not.”

“Hm. Anyone has ever been cheated on?” she addresses the table.

Katya seems worried. “Violet, is everything okay in your relationship?”

Violet is outraged at this. She has the audacity to ask Violet about herrelationship. She even looks genuinely worried and for a moment Violet is reminded that she really liked Katya and instead of anger, for a split second, she’s just disappointed. She expected more from her.

She’s back to anger in no time though when Trixie, right by her side, raises her eyebrows in worry as well.

Violet trusted them. Unbelievable. They are putting the jobs of everyone at the table at risk and they act as if everything is fine.

Not on Violet’s watch.

“Everything is wonderful in my relationship, Katya, thank you for asking.”

She just shares a glance with Trixie which just makes Violet fume more. “Okay-”

“How about you, though? Everything fine in yours? Have you ever been cheated on? Or have you ever cheated?”

“Uh…” she seems stunned but to be fair so does everyone else. Now they all look worried about Violet - she’s always composed and assertive, this frenzy is very unlike her. “Yes. I mean, yes, everything is fine, we’re doing great. And no, I don’t think anyone’s ever cheated on me, and I’ve never cheated on anyone.”

Violet actually chuckles because she can’t believe her straight face. “Right,” she comments as she goes back to her food.

“What does that mean?” Katya asks back and Violet doesn’t miss the way her voice is changed. By her side Trixie looks utterly confused.

“Nothing,” Violet replies, almost biting her own tongue. She can’t make a scene without proof, she needs to wait. She’s too stressed about this and isn’t acting properly.

“No, that didn’t sound like nothing.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t do this now-” Bob starts suggesting, but now Katya isn’t having it. She looks offended and Violet wants to know where she learned to act so well.

“No, I’m sorry, Violet was clearly implying something and I want to know what, because I’m not comfortable with this.”

Violet shrugs. “I didn’t mean anything, I just thought it was curious.”

“What was curious exactly?”

Violet really doesn’t want to do this now, but she realizes she’s made the situation and the blood in her veins is too hot to leave it be now.

She can’t outright accuse them, though, that would get her fired.

“I don’t know. Would have figured otherwise.” She keeps it vague - not completely, she does imply that Katya was lying somewhere in there and they all would look back, but she doesn’t outright say I know you’re screwing Trixie. She does give Trixie a quick side glance which she knows they both noticed.

Katya gets the closest to mad that Violet thinks she can. “You don’t know me, Violet.”

“Clearly not.”

Katya moves suddenly, Violet sees the motion as if she’s gonna push away from the table and leave, but Trixie holds her arm.

“I think you’re crossing some boundaries here, Violet.” Trixie says, her hand still resting on Katya’s arm who looks like she’d like to yell a bit. Trixie still looks more confused than anything else.

“Yeah, I’m the one crossing boundaries.”

“Okay, that’s enough,” Bob gets up and her height over them casts a sense of authority hard to argue with. “Katya, maybe you should get some fresh air. Violet-”

“I’ll stay here and finish my lunch, thank you.” Violet cuts her off.

There’s tension for a moment, but then Katya gets up and Trixie does so too, right after her, both heading for the exit.

“Off they go,” Violet murmurs and no one says anything, but Kim makes a face and just stares at her for more seconds than it should feel comfortable.

Maybe Violet will have to take the issue to the Dean without proof afterall.

*

Violet muses about it for the rest of her classes. She’s certain of one thing only: the parents of this school will definitely not have it if word of a lesbian affair between two married teachers came out and she knows it could have consequences for the school in general and for the staff - she thinks that maybe Fame would be the first one to feel it, knows some nasty parents who’d request for her to be immediately cut together with Trixie and Katya regardless of the fact that she’s got nothing to do with them.

Therefore she knows she must act and she must do it soon, but she also knows the obstacles. For one she really shouldn’t accuse anyone of anything without proof, as the chances are it would backfire and she would be the one taking the blow for it, so she really should think very carefully about how to do it, if at all, with the knowledge she has now. Secondly, Katya had a point earlier at lunch: Violet doesn’t know her - or Trixie. Not a lot, anyway. Who is she to point fingers when she doesn’t know their private lives, what they’ve got with their husbands? Violet doesn’t believe in cheating in any situation, but she can’t judge and she certainly understands some women are in complicated situations - especially if, as it looks like, they have to pretend to be straight for whatever reason.

So Violet doesn’t want to ruin their careers - or their lives, but she doesn’t think she’d have the power anyway - she just wants them far away from her school. She doesn’t want problems, that’s all.

Maybe she should talk to the Dean, then. With them there. Be friendly. It would be a lesser risk for her as well.

She’ll visit the Dean once the last bell rings, depending on her mood she’ll either tell her right then or else ask for a meeting the next day and invite Trixie and Katya. She has no intentions of maintaining the friendship - maybe she shouldn’t judge but she sure as hell doesn’t want friends that will behave like that - but keeping professional appearances is important and she figures it’ll be better if they’re there to speak for themselves. It’s fair, right?

She doesn’t see them in the teacher’s lounge when the last class is dismissed and she also doesn’t miss the looks that the other teachers give her.

“You ok?” Fame asks quietly, away from everyone else.

“Yeah, I was hot headed. I’m gonna handle it now, calmly.”

“Handle what, exactly?” It’s clear Fame doesn’t want to judge but she’s concerned for Violet.

“Don’t worry about it. Gotta go, I want to catch Dean Charles.”

“Violet!” Kim yells when she’s at the door.

“What?”

“Can I talk to you-”

“I need to talk with the Dean before she leaves, can it wait?”

Kim stops then, her eyebrows raise and Violet may be mistaken but it looks like her lips turn up into a small smile.

“Oh. Go ahead then, not urgent.”

Violet is probably crazy but it sounds like Kim is laughing as she closes the door.

She power walks to the Dean’s office, really wants to catch her today and address this as soon as possible - the more she waits the riskier it’ll be for them. She knocks twice and as per convention after a few seconds she opens it and glances inside.

Trixie and Katya are there, in front of the Dean.

“Oh,” is all she manages to say, confused. Are they turning themselves in? Were they caught?

They can’t be trying to say anything bad about her, can they?

“Oh, Miss Chachki. Please come in, I’m glad you’re here.” Dean Charles points to a third chair by Trixie’s side and she walks in silence to sit down. She has no idea what is happening, but they all seem to be way too calm for any scandal to have been brought up.

“Everything okay, Mrs. Charles?” she feels like she has to ask because things can’t be okay, can they? If they’ve come clean that she should not be as composed as she is - they should have been fired.

“Yes, of course.“ She stops for a few seconds, contemplates what to say next. Then she nods her head ever so lightly in a way they usually find snobbish and funny, but Violet doesn’t react. "I’m afraid I told you a small lie at a point and it’s lead to… some issues.”

“I haven’t done anyth-”

“Don’t worry, Violet, you’ve done nothing and you’re not in trouble. I know you like to know about the school affairs and the staff, and that you take care of everyone and that’s very admirable.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“But, you see, there’s one detail you didn’t pick up on and we failed to tell the staff because it’s a situation we haven’t had so far and we weren’t sure how everyone would react.”

“Okay,” she agrees with a questioning tone, not sure what exactly to ask. Why are Trixie and Katya there? What is everyone hiding? Why is Violet not aware of what’s going on- when did she lose her unofficial post of information holder? She looks at Trixie and Katya and they both look way too calm for Violet to be comfortable. “Can I be put in the loop, please?”

“We’re married, Violet,” Trixie says holding her gaze.

“I know.” What are they on about? That is the whole problem.

Katya chuckles. “No, you don’t get it. We are married,” she points between her and Trixie. “To each other.”

If there was a bucket of icy water dropping on top of Violet’s head now she would feel exactly as she feels right now.

What?

“What?!”

“As you know it’s against the rules for two employees to engage in a romantic relationship, but we’ve never had precedents of hiring two people already engaged in it. Katya is extremely qualified and we didn’t want to waste this opportunity, but we thought best to not disclose it. Maybe we should have considered that it would be a hard secret to keep.” Mrs. Charles doesn’t seem to notice that Violet is only half listening, still too stunned by what she heard.

“How can you be married? Don’t you have a husband?” Katya’s talked about him a few times - vaguely, but surely.

“I definitely don’t.” Katya says amusedly, eyebrows raised as if the thought is wild and funny. Violet would find it relatable if she weren’t where she is now, confused. “I’m quite sure I never used anything other than “my partner” or “they” when speaking about Trixie as my spouse.”

It’s true, she has. Violet thought it weird at first but reminded herself that not everyone is gay and she shouldn’t just assume everyone she meets was.

“But, Tom…”

“What about him?” Trixie asks now, equally confused.

“I thought Tom was your husband?”

They both laugh but try to stop it quickly.

“Tom is our cat,” Trixie explains trying to maintain a straight face. Then she turns to Katya, “Oh my god, what did you say about Tom that could possibly apply to a cat and a human?”

“I have no idea!”

“She said Tom was waiting for her to have dinner,” Violet explains and against everything she thinks she is, she starts to blush.

They are married. To each other. For one, they aren’t cheaters. And most importantly, they’re gay.

And she assumed the worst and was ready to try and get them fired.

“Very well. Now that things are settled, I must be off. I’ll hold a meeting tomorrow and we’ll tell the rest of the staff so we avoid further issues.”

As they leave Mrs. Charles’ room and stand in the hallway watching her leave, Violet searches for the right word. She’s not usually wrong and she doesn’t care for it.

“I- I don’t know what to say, I’m so sorry. I thought you were having an affair - I thought you were straight, oh my god.”

“I do find the latter much more offensive,” Katya jokes and Violet laughs. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that, of course.” Katya adds as a second thought, her expression changes.

“Oh! I suppose not, though I wouldn’t know. I have a girlfriend.”

“This is the gayest school in the district, then?”

She smiles. “Apparently.”

They stand there for several seconds, almost a perfect triangle, feelings rather awkward - or at least Violet is, for sure.

“Well-” Katya starts as she shifts her weight from one foot to the other, possible eager to leave. This is too quick for Violet to properly understand how she feels, but she knows she’s far from where she was that morning.

“I gotta say I’m really relieved. I like you guys, I was worried.”

“We’re glad.” Trixie smiles and then she offers her hand to Katya who takes it without a thought.

Now with clear eyes and knowing the situation, Violet takes a second to look at the image. They’re cute. They look happy.

“See you tomorrow?” Katya says as they start walking.

“See you.” She waves them off.

They walk away laughing, hand in hand, and it dawns on Violet that now she has more reinforcement and allies in the school.

She can’t wait to tell Pearl - although she’s not excited to let her know she was right all along.

*

When Kim greets her the next day, she realizes that she likely already knew. Kim is Trixie’s best friend, has known her for years. She was probably at their wedding.

"You were gonna let me play the fool, huh?” she whispers in lieu of hello, sitting by her side at the table so they’ll be private.

Kim just smirks. “I was gonna tell you, but I knew they were in the Dean’s office. Thought it would be more fun to let you go in there and sort it out.”

“I hate you,” she jokes and Kim just shrugs. “You knew all along.”

“I did. It wasn’t my secret to tell, though.”

Violet admires her loyalty and she thinks she would have done the same in Kim’s place.

“You even knew Katya was gonna start teaching here beforehand, didn’t you? You probably know her patronymic name!”

Kim smiles into her cup of coffee. “I do and it’s hideous. Not telling you, though.”

She huffs as she grabs a cup of coffee, wondering how things are gonna go today, when the door opens and in walk Katya and Trixie.

Their hands are intertwined.

At first she thinks no one is going to notice as they really aren’t paying attention, but then Alyssa stops talking in the middle of her sentence and everyone turns to where she’s looking.

“Oh,” some of them murmur, gasp even.

Violet smirks into her cup. She’s back to knowing more than everyone. She loves this feeling.

“Everyone,” Mrs. Charles calls from the door and everyone sort of gets up quickly as if they should, even though she could not look more uninterested if she tried. “They are married, the school board knows, you should not worry about it being against the rules as it is not.” She announces without caution, doesn’t even step inside. “I hope no one has any issues?” She’s asking but as usual doesn’t leave time for actual responses. “Great. If anyone’s missing, please let them know.”

And with that she’s off, Katya and Trixie standing between the door and the tables they’re all sitting around, all eyes on them.

Violet has to admit that was super awkward and seemingly unnecessary, if not for the fact that people would assume it to be against the rules.

“That makes a whole lot of sense actually-”

“Should’ve seen it coming-”

“Wait, who are they?”

Violet can hear all the comments as the two of them approach their table, visibly looking much more relaxed than usual. Violet figures they must have had a weight on their shoulders every day with that secret and she can’t imagine how good they must be feeling now.

“Good morning,”

“Morning,” Kim says. “Did Violet make an idiot of herself yesterday?”

Violet puffs. “I did not, thank you very much.”

And just as Kim opens her mouth to proceed, the rest of the girls approach them.

Fame has her arms open and she pulls Trixie under one and Katya under the other. “Oh my god, I am so happy about this, you guys.”

Everyone who was out of the loop starts talking and asking questions and Violet just sits back and watches it unfold. She’s happy too, as it turns out. They are good people and they look like they make a good pair.

“Don’t think I don’t see that new ring on your finger,” Kim murmurs to her while people are still focused on Trixie and Katya.

Violet smiles widely and looks down to her left hand. Pearl had been so ecstatic by the turn of events that she’d finally proposed last night.

“I’ll announce it later, I don’t wanna steal the spotlight.”

“That’s a first,” Kim chuckles.

The rest of the day unfolds much like any other, everyone getting used to the idea of them being together really quick, and maybe Violet could consider admitting that there’s more to people than we sometimes assume. She’d been so scared of a scandal just twenty-four hours ago and now everything is just normal as it is every day.

As Trixie and Katya are leaving, now apparently always holding hands, they bid her goodbye.

“Congrats on the engagement!” Katya yells from the other side of the corridor. “Being gay married is amazing, you’re gonna love it!”

Trixie just waves and Violet smiles looking down to her hand again.

If the examples she has are anything to go by, she has no doubt she will.

[moonlight-moogle]

BTS as Daddies

warnings: dd/lg, slight sexual themes.

Kim Namjoon/RM

ok first thing first

WE ALL KNOW THIS BOI HAS A DADDY KINK

like excUSE ME

king daddy™

anygay

I think Namjoon would be a semi-strict daddy

have a list of rules you have to follow

and lord knows if you break them you’re gonna get punished

Namjoon values trust and would feel as a daddy it's his job to punish you, if he didn’t, he’d feel like he had broken your trust a little

he has great self-control

the minute you use your safe word, he’s already getting you cleaned up and the bath’s already running and he is ready for snuggles

cuz don’t get me wrong

Namjoon isn’t all rules

he would be the biggest cuddle bug.

loves to have you sit on his lap

plays with your hair all the time

kisses your temple a lot cuz he’s tol

low key high key whipped for you

constantly checking up on you to see if you’re okay, even if its just a hand on your shoulder

he’s so patient with you

never raises his voice

prolly calls you ‘little one’

reads you bedtime stories

I'm sorry I'm just

uwu

in conclusion

Namjoon is a very good daddy. you are in safe hands, little one

Kim Seokjin/Jin

Kim Seokjin

where do I start with this boi

I picture him as a very soft daddy

kinda protective

like if anyone ever were to judge you for being a little and living the life you lead...

boi he’d be ready to throw hands

not really

Jin takes shit from no-one and would know when to cut people out

he’s a shady bitch

if someone judged his little girl/boy for being their cute innocent self, it’s their loss for not seeing how wonderful they are

thinks the world is too cruel for your little heart 

is afraid people will judge you so prefers if you keep little space in the home

knows from looking at you when you’re in little space

calls you something cute like ‘little puff’

showers you with kisses

constantly taking pictures of you

lives for his time with you

you want daddy to dress as a prince?

done

you want to play tea party?

daddy will bake cupcakes

hates to see you cry

literally swOOPS you up in his arms if you ever hurt yourself and cry

tuts at you and calls you silly when you have a tantrum

less strict than Namjoon

only a few basic rules 

“no swearing” and stuff

less enthusiastic about punishments

most you’ll get in terms of physical punishment is spanking

and that’s if you’ve been really bad

Jin opts more for timeouts and no TV time

occasionally will opt for orgasm denial if he’s feeling particularly satanic

best in the game at aftercare.

has set treats, candles, bubble bath, blankets, stuffies, pacifiers - ANYTHING his baby needs

I'm realizing only two members in that this is gonna make so soft uwu

Min Yoongi/Suga

this boi is my bias so um

strap in

I think Yoongi would be more like Namjoon in terms of how daddy he is

he’s highkey whipped for you

doesn’t show it in public

prefers to spoil you with the gummy smiles in private

definition of patient

you could be having the mother of all bitchfits, screaming bloody murder and this boy would sit there and watch until you’ve tired yourself out 

just sighs “are you done, kitten?” and wipes the tears from your face

yes he calls you kitten

he always makes time for you, no matter how tired he is

lives for naps with you

loves it when you curl yourself into him

buries his face into your hair because he loves your smell

rests his hand on your neck 

he doesn’t mind bringing you outside when you’re little as long as your hand stays locked in his

kisses your forehead cuz it makes him feel taller

he’s more laidback than Namjoon in term of rules but will go all the way with punishment if he needs to

owns a remote control vibrator 

boy don't play around

will buy you the cutest onesies and pacifiers

lives for that cute smile on your face when he puts it on you

I'm just imagining him smiling with his whole mouth at you

then kneeling down and taking the pacifier out of your mouth to kiss you

 U W U

watches Disney movies with you

loves it when you straddle his lap and lay across his chest so he can wrap his arms around you 

you’re literally the only person he’ll allow in his studio with him.

the walls and desks are littered with little drawings that you do for him while you’re with him

speaks more with actions than words

little fleeting touches to check your okay

such a sweetheart during aftercare

has you sit between his legs and massages your arms

hums to you softly and plays with your hair

makes you feel like you re the only thing in the world that has ever mattered to him

cuz sometimes he believes that

Jung Hoseok/J-Hope

OK SO

I think everyone knows that Hobi is quite literally a ball of sunshine

this reflects a lot into his daddy-ness

his little will never 

repeat

NEVER

be bored

almost Yoongi level sugar daddy 

actually, screw that he’s probably more of a sugar daddy

you literally have any toy you want

half your wardrobe is all supreme and bucket hats cuz he likes it when his baby dresses like their daddy

dances with you all the time

this boy has so much energy oh my god

he’d love to bring you to the park and push you on the swings

shows you off to everyone

especially bangtan

fairly laid back

doesn’t like having a lot of rules cuz he just wants you to live

can be stern if he needs to be tho

punishments are probably limited like Jin’s

timeouts are as painful for him as they are for you cuz he just wants to hug you

this boy would very sadistic in the bedroom

did I hear

edging??

perhaps some orgasm denial?

overstimulation

high key satan

really hates to raise his voice at you

has had a few slip ups here and there when you’ve been particularly difficult

rights his wrongs almost immediately

definitely is not above saying sorry just cause of the power a daddy has

daddy/little relationships are all about trust, communication, and understanding that everyone is equal

Hobi would value these immensely 

Hobi seems like the type of person that if you were to bring up littles to him, he might think it was weird at first

but then he’d see how happy it would make you

and he’d be whipped

I picture Yoongi and Namjoon as naturals at being a daddy

I feel Jin and Hobi would have to learn 

the fact that you put that much trust in them would melt their heart

Hobi would strive to be the best daddy you could ever ask for

you best believe this boy would braid your hair.

kiss your cheek and giggle into your skin like a lovesick fool

calls you his little angel or ‘cherub’

the type to make you chocolate chip pancakes for aftercare

Hobi would never really have considered being a daddy until he met you

and lord is he thankful he did

you are quite literally the moon, sun, and stars to that boy

frick im soft

Park Jimin

ok

so

this boy is my ultimate bias wrecker so 

strap

the fuck

in

THIS BOI

IS

THE SOFTEST BOI

whipped™

buys you pretty clothes and takes Polaroid pictures of you to keep in his wallet

you’re his phone background and his desktop background

gives!you!so!much!praise!

calls you his doll

literally just doesn’t say your name

just calls you by complimenting you

“gorgeous, come over here.”

“how are you, pretty?”

is so soft for you

kisses your nose and pinches your cheeks

thinks you’re so cute he could eat you like a muffin

playfully nibbles on your skin to hear you giggle

sits with you and lets you braid his hair 

loves!to!see!you!in!stockings!

spins you around when you dance to hear you scream laugh

you literally make him cry from laughter

he has rules for you but not as much as Joon.

has been known to get quite frustrated with you if you have tantrums

Jimin has quite the temper on him and does slip up and yell when he’s stressed sometimes

almost immediately regrets it and feels so bad

god forbid if he makes you cry

literally would never let go of you

c u d d l e s

punishments are like a mix between Hobi and Jin’s

he’ll have no problem putting you in time out if you’re being a little shit

he will use punishments like orgasm denial and edging but he wouldn’t be as satanic as Hobi and Yoongi to use overstimulation

the softest thing in aftercare

cleans you up, puts on your favorite movie and cuddles you in bed

gives you stuffies and a pacifier and kisses your forehead

watches you fall asleep to make sure that you’re okay

will check up on you for days afterward

I literally had to stop like three times writing this part cuz of all my uwus

Kim Taehyung/V

my fuckin boi

ok

so

Kim Taehyung

is a literal puppy

so playful

you are literally this boys entire world

brings you outside to take aesthetic candid shots of you he later posts on Instagram

a lot of them are pictures of you with Yeontan

or in pink frilly outfits, he bought for you

calls you his precious little babygirl/boy

puts flowers in your hair

loves when you wear his clothes

literally will purposefully give them to you to wear around the house

brings you for drives - usually to go get ice cream

sings to you ALL THE TIME 

does that cute thing where he laughs and claps his hands when you sing with him

gets really into it so he’s dancing around the kitchen, belting out Disney bops with a whisk in his hand

your lips are his favorite thing

but has a kink for kissing your hands

just loves to have your hand in his

Tae is literally the most understanding, caring person so if he ever felt the need to punish you for breaking rules he’d have like a proper talk with you about it

“why didn’t you listen to daddy, precious?”

would always be worried that he had done something wrong

it’s his life goal to make you happy

would never raise his voice but he does get frustrated if you’re misbehaving and he doesn't know what to do

Tae!would!be!so!into!begging!

literally, if he was ever punishing you he would make you beg and scream for so long before he let you cum.

might not even let you cum if he’s feeling particularly sadistic

if it’s too much for you, he’s so soft with aftercare

makes you hot chocolate, lays you across his chest and sings you to sleep

will remind you of how much he truly adores you and how good you are

he sings your praises to the rooftops

plays with your hair and rubs your hips

wakes you up in the morning to cuddles and TV

aftercare is one of his favorite things

he’s honestly so content being a daddy

you are literally the most precious thing in the worl to him

once again

U W U

Jeon Jungkook

this boi ruins me holy hell

I feel like at first, Kookie would be slightly out of his comfort zone knowing that he has to care for someone

yano

cuz he da maknae

everyone babies him

but after a while, I think he’d really enjoy the change

you’re his princess/prince

and you rule his house

you are spoiled, let me tell you

we all know that this boy strong

he would carry you everywhere in the house

he’s gotten used to the constant cries of “daddy, up!” when he’s in a room

loves to cook for you

has you sit on the counter with him while he makes dinner

you’re his little assistant chef

sneaks little nose kisses between giggles

loves to kiss your shoulders and your neck

sits with you at the table and colors

always puts yours on the fridge

bounces you on his lap all the time

gave you a bunny plushie to remind you of him

needless to say, it's your favorite

gets frustrated quite easily if you’re being difficult

timeouts are his punishment of choice

usually leaves you there for five minutes

always comes over and kneels down to you

makes sure you say that you’re sorry and then scoops you up in his arms for cuddles

isn’t fond of orgasm denial

prefers overstimulation

this boi top of his game on this

carries you to the bath for aftercare

is so kind and gentle when he takes care of you

dresses you in the softest PJ’s

literally carries you around and bounces you gently in his arms

gets you a bottle and lays in bed with you

loves your butt

taps it gently to help you sleep

sings to you 

you are literally his favorite thing

in the world

I AM

SO SOFT

AHH

[mona-rei-is-not-okay]

Heya. I'm the sibling asker ! H/s = honorary sibling. Hope you're doing fine <3 so. MT, UF bros for now, and maybe HT Sans too (all of them on the surface of course.) So sibling is kinda not doing so fine lately. And they try to hide it but aren't the best. They mostly look scared and sad. But whenever they go to cuddle against the skele, they kinda shut down and relax in a matter of seconds. When asked about it : 'I feel the safest when I'm with you'. (Also, if possible.. a teen!h/s ?) Byu ♡-B☆

i love deep friendship gimme gimme

and there are NO MAYBES YOU WILL HAVE THE BONUS BOY ALWAYS especially with cute asks like these omg i love

i don’t know too much about MT!Paps though, so i’m sorry if my interpretation is a lil wonky. also h/s is teen, sorry if it isn’t apparent

UF!Sans: He’s really concerned about your low mood spell, but isn’t really sure what to do about it. As much as he relates to your apparent anxieties, he doesn’t know what to do to make you feel better. He’s not usually good at comforting words. What he will do is check in a lot. Make sure you’re generally doin okay and have everything you need. Again, if you need to vent, he’ll listen.

But he really doesn’t get why the cuddles make such a difference. Sure, he’s become a bit of a cuddlebug himself, but the way you completely relax like that? Unnatural. Especially since it’s the only thing that seems to be cheering you up. But then again, who is he to question what works? He won’t exactly cling to you from then on, but he’ll start following you around the house a bit more, snagging every cuddle opportunity. It’s still a little weird, but it’s a lot better than seeing his kid sibling all skittish. Eventually though, curiosity gets the better of him, and he just has to ask.

And your answer?

Congratulations, you have floored your big bro. Beet red in the face. Absolutely no composure. What did he do to deserve your trust?? Why are you so sweet?? Aaaaaah?!? He pets your head and tries not to let you hear his wheezing, but it’s obvious, he’s really moved and has no idea how to deal with it.

“h-heh… watch where yer aimin’ that sweetness, kiddo… i’m gettin’ a toothache… jeez…”

Anyway, was he tailing you before? Welp, now he’s become your guard dog. It doesn’t matter where you’re going, he’s comin’ with you.He’ll always be by your side, gently holding your arm and keeping his head on a swivel for shifty characters. If you ever need to navigate a crowd or a tight space, he’ll usher you behind him and get you to grab the fluff of his hood while he leads the way. He can’t exactly follow you to school, but he’ll shortcut to walk you between classes if you let him. Your teachers hate him. He’ll stop following you everywhere if you fend him off with a stick, but until your mood improves… well, he’s your personal escort now, deal with it

UF!Papyrus: He’s always wanted a little sibling. He loves helping people, and shows love through physical care.He’s a bit of a mother hen. It’s part of why he took in his cat, Doomfanger. To him, you are an absolute blessing.

So he’s already got some huge maternal instincts, but your mood has got him sent into overdrive. He’ll always be asking you if you need anything, fixing you comfort snacks, asking if you need help with homework, doing a chore or cleaning a room so you don’t have to. It might feel naggy or get a little overwhelming, and he’ll dial it back if you tell him to, but his first instinct will always be to take care of possible stress sources directly. It helps him feel better, too.

So when you settle down to cuddle and just… completely deflate, he asks about it immediately. He must know. He must help.

And when you answer…

His face is deep maroon. If anybody else had said that, he would have dismissed it. But coming from you? Wowie. He feels like he’s succeeded as a caretaker. He’s about ready to squeal with joy, but he contains himself. Smiling from ear to nonexistent ear, he loops an arm behind you and pulls you closer. He tries to mask his joy with a confident air, but the grin betrays him.

“WELL! THAT’S… PERFECTLY NATURAL!! AS THE GREAT AND TERRIBLE PAPYRUS HAS TAKEN YOU UNDER HIS PROTECTION!!!”

From then on, every time he starts an activity or chore, you’re invited. Help him put away groceries! Help him do laundry! Help him cook! Also, if you accompany him on errands, hand-holding is required.

“I HAVE TO KEEP TRACK OF YOU SOMEHOW! STOP GIGGLING!”

He just wants to make sure you feel safe. Even if it means walking you to and from school, fixing you lunches with positive sticky notes in the bag, and taking you with him everywhere he goes. It’s not cute!

MT!Sans: He’s not around as much as either of you would like, but he knows you’re feeling down. He remembers seeing his brother with such a similar look on his face. Young fool that Sans was, he started taking him with on small jobs to keep him company. And now Pappy deals in some of the same dirty business he does. He’s promised himself not to make the same mistake with you.

He does his best to help you take it in stride while he’s around, but he knows there’s only so much he can do. He feels a twinge of guilt every time he has to leave you in that state. He knows it probably doesn’t have much to do with him, but he feels responsible. Maybe if he were around more, or even just in a safer profession, you wouldn’t seem so worried all the time.

Cuddles are solace for both of you. He gets to relax and feel like he’s doing something, and you don’t seem half as rigid. Smiles all around! He already sort of knows why you relax so easily in his arms, or thinks he does, but he feels he should still make sure.

And…

Well, he didn’t know what he was expecting, but he can’t keep his grin from widening a touch. You’re the light of his life, you know that? Honestly, what did he do to deserve you? But the guilt sets back in. No wonder you’ve been feeling down… he’s been particularly busy lately, and he really should make more time for you. And if you didn’t normally feel safe, whose fault is that? Well… nobody feels safe in this part of town.

“well…” He’ll plant a small kiss on the top of your head. “take it easy, kiddo. i promise, someday, we’ll all get the hell outta here.”

He’ll get somebody to watch the house while he’s gone. He knows he can’t be there all the time, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t know you aren’t safe. He’ll call you more often to check in, too. Also… he’ll start putting a little extra away, start saving for a little vacation. Maybe some time out of town will do all of you some good. You’re family, and he’ll take care of you no matter the risk or cost.

MT!Papyrus: He’s around more than Sans is, thankfully. He sticks around to fix you meals and offer cuddles and make sure the house is safe. It’s given him plenty of time to notice one of his favorite siblings’ low mood.

He does his best to help out in indirect ways, checking the house for wires and cameras and sweeping the perimeter every so often. He knows this helps with his brother sometimes, when he gets paranoid. But he isn’t sure that’s your problem. He feels a little lost, but is upbeat as ever. He has to set a good example after all.

He most likely won’t ask about the cuddles for a while. He’s more concerned with what more he can do to make you comfortable, and if this works, it works. Besides- openly nosy folk are seldom rewarded in his line of business. Eventually though, he’ll push back the instinct. He trusts you, and this could make a lot of difference in helping you cheer up.

And when you tell him…

He’s beaming at you with such genuine joy, he looks like he might just start crying. Just… wowie! He doesn’t really understand why you’d feel that way, he’s only decent in crisis situations, but the fact that you really trust him that much? Well, it’s not something he gets a lot of. He must be doing something right if you feel this way.

He’ll rest his chin on your head and give you a hearty squeeze. “WELL! I SUPPOSE!! YOU’LL JUST HAVE TO STAY IN THIS HUG!!! FOREVER!!!!”

He won’t move for a while, get used to him, he lives there now. From then on, he’ll start taking every opportunity to come home early and see you. He’ll ask you to cook with him, he’ll ask you to read to him, he’d even try to sneak you with him on jobs if Sans didn’t always seem to stop you. He tries to be around the house more in general, he wants his little sibling to know that he’s always around if you need him.

HT!Sans: He understands your mood all too well. He’s been through plenty of periods of fear and depressive episodes in his day, and he knows how it feels. Sometime he feels like the only way he can perceive the world is either through an all-consuming fog or with painful knife-point precision. But it’s hard for him to think back to what he wanted during more desperate times. Food? Safety? He’s pretty sure you’ve got those covered already. Maybe your head just acts up a little sometimes, like his.

He’ll make sure you have everything you need, regardless. You hungry? Tired? He’ll take care of it, just you relax. If you need to talk, he may not understand or remember everything you say, but he’ll do his best to offer comfort.

It doesn’t quite register how much you relax when you cuddle him, not for a while. He can be a little slow sometimes. He’ll get it eventually though, and he’ll ask about it. This seems important, had he asked before?

And what you tell him…

It almost brings a tear to his eye. He may have a trauma-induced forgetful streak, but he remembers a lot of things. He remembers a lot of nasty, horrible things. He remembers the taste of human flesh. He remembers the strain of keeping his guard up at all times. He remembers watching his brother slip away.

But you? You’ve been his second chance. You gave him the opportunity to make things right with himself. A sibling he didn’t have to fail. He most definitely felt he didn’t deserve you or your trust... after all, he had eaten people like you without a second thought. But you gave your trust just as freely. 

“heh…” He ruffles your hair. “hope that works out for ya.”

He’ll do his best to be available for cuddles (not that he has much to keep him away) and he’ll try to take you with him if he has to go somewhere. He always makes an effort to ask about your day, if anything bad happened, if anything good happened. He doesn’t feel like he can do much, but he’ll do what he can to make things easier on you.

[ill-be-istj-if-no-one-else-is]

I'm 18 and my type is istj. I mentioned my type because it seemed relevant to what I'm going to ask: How does an introvert who lived the first half of her school life being isolated gain the capacity to maintain enough relationships in order to have a decent social life? At first, I thought nothing was really wrong with being as isolated as I am but then I started to realize all the issues that came with it: being overall unsatisfied with life, spending most of my days on the internet,(part 1)

living mostly through books and movies. I realize this could be an sj thing, where someone always thinks that they are normal. How could I open my mind up to more possibilities? Later I realize that a lot of opportunities passed by unrealized because of my limited point of view and my inexperience with life. How does one expand and become interested in everything and care to spend everyday talking to people and forming real relations? (part 2 also this is the last part)

---

True to form I am indeed hungover and tired right now but I drafted up an answer on the bus there on Friday when I was relatively fresh and merely unwilling to type long things in my phone, so your answer will probably be the only nice one today.

So, to answer all the questions in general and then get specific:

To make any change there’s really only two steps:

Realize it needs to be done

Do it

There might be a step in the middle which is realize that it needs to be done AND it will require some level of effort and discomfort.

This is true for pretty much all things. You want to talk to your crush? You just have to do it and recognize that rejection or even humiliation is a possibility. Want to get someone to do something? Ask them nicely and realize they might say no. I mean, yeah, it’s easier said than done but there’s nothing that will make it easier other than practice, ie: doing it a lot.

So: you’ve realized that you’re not happy with being isolated. That’s good! That’s the first step right there!

The next thing to do is realize what specifically you want, and it sounds like you’re not entirely sure. The next piece of advice I have is that you don’t actually need to be interested in everything and you don’t need to spend every day talking to people. You just need to be interested in some things and talk to people sometimes.

To do this, I usually suggest joining clubs - especially if you’re in college. Presumably you have some interests - the things you read about, perhaps - so you can start there, or you can just show up to something that seems like you might like it even if you’ve never tried it. This lets you explore an interest and meet people at once, so it’s efficient (which means you have more time to regroup and relax in private, which you will still need because socializing can be exhausting if you’re not used to it) and it makes it easier to talk to people, because hey, you’re all there for a reason. A lot of my struggle with meeting people personally is that it’s just...weird to go up to people in a random public space (not that it’s bad, just it’s hard for ISTJs I think to get over that expectation of not going up to strangers). In a club or team, there’s sort of a general expectation that you’re there to do things and meet people and that alone serves as an ice-breaker.

If you’re not in college or clubs seem hard, you can focus on trying new things. If you’re in a location that has some kind of stuff going on, check it out! Go to poetry readings or concerts! There’s probably a lot of free stuff if you look for it. Go to new restaurants. Go to parks. Go to libraries. Go to museums. Follow weird impulses - if you need to schedule ‘weird impulse’ time (eg: on Saturday afternoons you will find a thing to do that you’ve never done before), do it.

I don’t know if you’re in college/university, in high school, or what, but if you are headed to college/university then that’s a really great time to be making this kind of change because most people are leaving their friends and are very primed to meet people and make new friends.

I guess the last piece of advice is to remind yourself that most people are sufficiently absorbed with their own stuff that your minor slip-ups will fade from their memory. Say something awkward? We all have. They will almost definitely forget. This is especially useful if you’re an ISTJ with a good memory - most people don’t remember things nearly as well and are more worried about their own awkwardness than yours.