#i just loved his fake blonde ass (i insisted he was a real blonde)

[yuneu]

i loved Austin and Ally so much as a kid

[buckyalpine]

Hiii! I love your stories and I would like to put a request?

I watched videos about social experiments of men forcing themselves on women to see if someone would interfere. There is this one where a guy in a bike, saw it and then fixed his hair to look intimidating and intervened.

Can you do one where reader is a reluctant participant of the experiment with her classmates and they kind of force her to the role is the girl? Then just so happens Bucky was walking around and saw it and just fixed his hair first to look more intimidating before he intervened.

Then they try to tell him its an experiment but Bucky didn't exactly liked it because reader is still upset so he goes and take her away.

It can be fluffy and has a smut on the end or its your choice! Anything would be great because you are a great writer.

I hope you can see my request! Take your time too. No rush love! 💕💕💕

OKAY THIS IS SO CUTE We love protective Bucky. Now make it protective College!Bucky. Readers "friends" are awful in this. Bucky is everything here. We live for that fluffy, emotional smut. Also I'm so sorry because I'm 10000% sure when you said take your time you didn't mean take over a year to respond. I hope you see you bb

"C'mon y/n, it'll be fine!" Danielle whined, dragging you along with the others, ignoring the discomfort on your face.

"Why can't one of you do it" You frowned, tugging at the hem of your skirt, shifting uncomfortable while your friends continued to drag you towards the park bench. They begged you to be a participant in a social experiment they were doing for class and insisted you wouldn't have to do much. They didn't tell you you'd have to sit through someone pretending to harass you the entire time, waiting to see if people would intervene.

"Because it'll look more real this way. One of us can't do it" She rolled her eyes, making adjustments to your hair while her group members set up a camera in the bushes out of sight. They roped in one of the football players on campus, Johnathan Walker, to take on the roll of the man harassing you just to keep it more interesting, wondering if people would stand up to a more well-known figure, especially one that was clearly physically stronger than most.

"It's not that big of a deal. All you have to do is look scared while John pretends to keep asking you out on a date. Maybe some cat calling. either way its all fake so you just have to act. Ugh, don't worry, Y'know he'd never actually ask you out, seriously, enjoy what you can here"

You sighed, your stomach already flipping with anxiety while she laughed, running off to hide, throwing a thumbs up to indicate they'd started filming.

"Hey pretty girl" the blonde winked, taking a seat beside you on he bench, inching closer to you when you shifted away. "What's a girl like you doin' sittin' all alone" He threw his arm over the back of the bench to get you closer, trying to pull you right beside him. You stiffened, looking as uncomfortable as ever but you weren't acting.

"Just waiting for someone" You made up an excuse, giving him another pained smile while he nodded, asking you for coffee next, talking louder than necessary, hoping to gain some attention from people walking by. You shook your head, getting up to walk away, the smirk on his face growing, clearly really enjoying this.

"Hey, come back" he called after you, grabbing your arm and pulling you to his chest to keep you from running off. His hand moved from your arm to your waist, sliding down until it rested just above your ass. More passer byers started to notice but no one stopped, every person glancing without wanting to get involved, especially when it came to the football star and a girl no one really knew.

"John, stop" You whispered just enough for him to hear, your throat tightening when he gripped you harder, smirking at your struggle.

"C'mon darlin', don't be like that" He laughed, grabbing your ass, your heart starting to hammer in panic. You pushed against his chest, desperately hoping someone would intervene but he only continued to hold you closer.

-

Bucky ran his fingers through his hair after just taking it down after a workout, his black hair tie sitting on his wrist. He took a long sip from his water bottle while walking to class, noticing a few hushed whispers among people as he passed the campus park along with a small crowd watching something from a distance.

"Please let me go"

He frowned at the scared pleading voice he heard, making his way over to make sure no one was hurt. His jaw clenched seeing the sweet girl he recognized from one of his classes clearly in distress trying to get away from Walker without a single person trying to help. He saw red watching Walkers hands roam, pulling her back each time she tried to run away.

-

"Just one date, it won't hurt-

"Get the fuck off her!" A voice boomed across the park making John flinch, his hand dropping as if you'd suddenly burnt him. Everyone's eyes shot up to a very angry James Barnes marching straight towards you and John, the blonde swallowing nervously, stepping away from you.

Danielle stopped filming, worried Bucky would actually throw John over the bench, his hardened eyes and clenched fists a bad sign.

"Guys! Hey, relax it's just an experiment-

"About what?! Actually harassing her? You're disgusting" Bucky hissed, glaring at Danielle, shutting her up instantly. Bucky stepped in between you and John, his large frame sheltering you from your supposed friends. "Can't you see she's actually scared and uncomfortable. You should've stopped as soon as she asked you to"

Danielle's cheeks reddened from embarrassment, too scared to say anything back to the man who towered over her, slinking away when he turned to John instead.

"What the fuck is wrong with you, I should beat your ass for what you just did to her" Bucky growled while John tried to straighten his shoulders, getting pulled back by his bestfriend before he could open his mouth.

"He's captain of the wrestling team and coaches MMA, just shut the fuck up and walk away" Lamar hissed in Johns ear, throwing Bucky an apologetic smile, dragging his friend before things could get worse. Your friends packed their things and scrambled away leaving your shaken, biting onto your lip to keep from crying.

"Hey, you okay?" Bucky cupped your cheek, his thumb wiping away the tears that slipped out, his glare sending off anyone that tried to stop and stare.

"I'm-I'm fine" You said shakily, forcing a smile. "Thank you Bucky"

"Of course y/n" He spoke softly, wishing he could wrap you up in his arms so you'd feel protected. His heart broke seeing you continue to tremble, slipping his hand in yours, giving it a firm squeeze. "Tell me what you need, do you want me to walk you home?"

"Yes please" You whispered, grateful you had Bucky by your side, his stoic face, scruffy beard and shoulder length hair keeping everyone else far away while he kept you close to his side.

"Lets go" He nodded with a smile, knowing the way to your place after he'd walked you home plenty of times after you'd worked on papers together in the library. You pressed yourself into his side, your body relaxing when he moved to wrap his arm around you, strong, corded muscles holding you firmly. The walk to your place wasn't long; as soon as you reached the door, you felt a pang of sadness, already missing Bucky's protective warmth.

"What else do you need sweets, do you want me to get you anything? Coffee?"

"Could you-" you nervously fidgeted with your fingers, feeling silly for the request, deciding to drop in instead. "Actually its okay"

"Hey, no, please tell me, you know you can ask me for anything y/n" His baby blues pleaded with you while your eyes flicked to your feet.

"Could you stay for a little while? I- I just- I'm still-

"Of course doll, I'd love to" Bucky hushed your nervous rambling, happy to keep you company until you felt better. His cheeks blushed as he entered you home, already doing a poor job of keeping his composure together. He couldn't help the way his heart skipped a beat when you gave him a shy smile, the secret crush he had on you making him feel soft and fuzzy. He'd had a crush on you from the first day you were assigned as study partners for a project and it had only gotten worse ever since.

He toed off his shoes, dropping his duffle bag by the closet while you both made your way to the living room. He didn't let you get up, telling you to stay put on the couch while he went to grab you some water. You put on one of your comfort shows, curling up into his side while he wrapped his arm around you, the scent of his body wash and something distinctly him making you feel warm and safe. You hadn't realized you kept kneading into his side like a kitten while Bucky chuckled, pulling the throw blanket over you, letting your legs sit across his thighs.

"Feeling better?" He whispered against your hair, still stroking your back an hour later. You nodded, having crawled into his lap at some point during the evening, your head resting on his chest, listening to his heart beat.

"I like this" you smiled, toying with his chain, the simple action making Bucky nearly swoon.

"Me too, doll" He kissed the top of your head softly, "Anything else I can do for you? Just name it, I can make you dinner, we can build a pillow fort, have a sleep over" He teased playfully, making you giggle. You nuzzled yourself further into his hold, wanting the night to last forever.

"Stay with me tonight?" you whispered, peering up at him through your lashes before flicking yours eyes away, worried you'd crossed a boundary. Bucky cupped your face making you look at him, his thumb sweeping across your bottom lip.

"Are you sure, sweets?"

"Please" you nodded, forgetting how to breathe when his eyes bounced to your lips before meeting your gaze again, his self restraint slowly crumbling. He bit his lip, squeezing your waist a little harder than intended to hold himself back, eyes growing wide when your soft mouth pressed against his. His lashes fluttered shut, hands moving to hold your face, desperately chasing more of your sweetness.

His tongue slipped between yours lips, lacing with yours as the kiss grew more heated, groaning as he moved you to straddle his lap with ease. He didn't intend to take anything further, happy to spend the night kissing you while watching movies, his arms wrapping around your body.

"I need you" You broke away panting, your hands clutching onto his Henley, seated again his thick erection impossible to hide under his sweats.

"How do you need me, sugar" Bucky rasped, unsure if thats what you needed, doing his best to keep his hard length from rubbing against you. He let out a shuddered breath when you shifted, bucking your hips in the process, wriggling on his lap. "Doll, you gotta stop that, or else I'll-

"Need you closer" You whimpered, your arms wrapping around his wide shoulders, burying you face into the crook of his neck. His heady scent made you want to sink your teeth into him, having never felt more protected, needing to feel all of him.

"Are-are you sure?" He squeezes his eyes shut, feeling your soft lips pepper kisses up his neck to his ear. He wouldn't have a single problem if you decided to say no, still doing his best to hold back.

"Yes, please Bucky need you"

"Can't have our first time together on your couch, baby" Bucky let out a breathless laugh, wrapping your legs around his waist, hoisting you up with ease, making his way up the stairs to your room. He laid you down before settling on top between your legs, lost in holding you again. Clothes were thrown off one by one between needy, desperate kisses, until you were both left completely bare. Your slick was sticky between your legs, covering your thighs, too impatient for anything else, just needing Bucky to fill you right up.

Bucky could feel your arousal coat his length, keeping it slotting between your wet folds as he dipped his head down to take your nipple in his mouth, giving it a gentle tug while cupping your other breast. His hips rutted on their own. taking his time to love on you, dribbles of precum wetting your clit.

"Bucky, please, closer?" You pleaded, spreading your legs further, gasping when his tip caught against your entrance, your nails digging into his thick shoulders. His fell around your face like a soft curtain, gently tickling your face.

"You sure you want this, you can say no baby" He said sincerely, stroking your hair, ignoring the way your cunt was pulsing and throbbing against his dripping cockhead, greedy for him to put it in you.

"I want you Bucky. I-I've liked for for so long" You shyly confessed, biting your lip while he cooed, tipping your chin up to meet his eyes.

"I liked you too, y/n" He whispered, his cheeks blushing at your sweetness, giving yourself to him, and trusting him when you were at your most vulnerable. "So much love, been crushing on you forever"

He held the base of his cock, the both of you gasping as he pushed the tip in, your pussy instantly welcoming him inside you, pulsing for more.

"That's it, open up for me baby, good girl" He whispered against your skin, inching his cock in, the delicious stretch causing your back to arch off the bed, pressing your chest further against his. "S'good, taking all of my cock doll"

"Wan-want all of you Bucky" you moaned, squeezing your thighs around his waist as he bottomed out, his balls pressed against your ass. "Oh my god!"

Bucky started to move, giving you slow, gentle strokes, his body weight grounding you while you took everything he gave you. He'd wanted to make love for you for ages, bringing his hands to lave with yours, pinning you against the bed while moving faster, his cock swelling further.

"You-you feel so good sweets, fuck you're so precious"

"I am?" You whimpered, your voice melting into a moan as he hit that sensitive spot that made your body tremble, pleasure and emotion causing tears to slip out.

"So precious to me baby" He wrapped his arms tenderly around your body, kissing your tears away, his pace growing sloppy. "My precious doll. I'll protect you from anyone" His voice dropped an octave, fucking you with the utmost passion, pounding you hard and fast. "You're mine now, not gonna let anyone every hurt you"

You hiccupped a sob, your cunt pulling him back in, fluttering around his throbbing cock making it impossible for him to last any longer.

"M'gonna cum doll" Bucky whispered, his back pulled taut, giving you deep strokes, the head of his cock sensitive, "You gotta cum first baby, m'gonna cum so hard for you" His hand slipped between your bodies, rubbing quick circles around your clit, pleasure crashing down hard and fast.

"BUCCKYY" You cried out, your body shuddering as you started to clench around his cock, causing him to moan loudly, stilling as he cock hardened.

"Oh fuck baby, m'cumming!" He spilled himself into you, giving you a few more sloppy thrusts until he was milked dry, collapsing on top of you while you carded your fingers through his soft locks. He spent the rest of the night cuddling you, until you fell asleep in his arms, with your legs tangled together until the sun rose.

He loved how you looked, as the sun streamed through the blinds, a soft pout on yours lips as he traced over your featured, admiring each one. You peeked an eye open before closing it again, giggling when he pinched your side.

"What else can I do for you, baby" Bucky gave you a cheeky smile, making your face heat up, smiling into his chest.

"More cuddles please?" Your voice was muffled, sighing contently when he pulled the covers higher, closing his eyes again.

"Wouldn't have it any other way"

[phanfictioncatalogue]

Fics Starting With the Word “The” (3) Masterlist

part one, part two

the angel in the marble (ao3) - ivylakes

Summary: “Can I just say,” Dan says, pulling away to look at Phil. His hand has drifted from Phil’s jaw to his hair again, because of course it has. “I took a risk with the angel thing. I didn’t think you’d like it that much.”

Or, Phil dyes his hair blonde, Dan calls him angel, and neither of them can get any work done.

The Art of Progress (ao3) - iihappydaysii

Summary: In 2011, YouTube experiences an unfortunate malfunction and Dan and Phil make a choice. A year later, the consequences of that choice begin to reveal themselves…

The Bahamas Incident (ao3) - Do_it_with_the_Howell_Lesters

Summary: Phil is set to be the best man at his brother’s wedding, but his mother insists on him bring a real date. So obviously he asks Dan to be his fake boyfriend for the week. Old memories and feelings are dredged up, and it may not go as smoothly as they planned.

The Bassist - Star4545

Summary: Phil is the shy bassist in Dan’s favorite band.

the beginning of forever (ao3) - waveydnp

Summary: that amazing week they spent together in phil's house in 2009

The beginning of the rest of their lifes (ao3) - dat_carovieh

Summary: Dan and Phil's first meeting.

The Bet (ao3) - Do_it_with_the_Howell_Lesters

Summary: Dan was drunk, he shouldn’t have even considered it but… “How much?”

“£100.” Jack grinned, hiccuping and taking a swig of his beer. “Deal?”

The Boy And The Builder (ao3) - intoapuddle, jestbee

Summary: Dan is stuck in a house full of builders feeling sorry for himself. Until he meets Phil, that is…

The Boy From Manchester (ao3) - Koolhotsweetloveberries

Summary: Dan Howell wishes with all his heart that he was someone else. If he had to choose, he'd be a cool guy living in Manchester, like all his favorite YouTubers. They say 'be careful what you wish for'.

An AU inspired by Makoto Shinkai's 'Your Name'.

The Clock Keeps Ticking (ao3) - tellsfromhale

Summary: Dan has spent over a decade growing comfortable with himself. Finally, he can live his truth, and he can do it with Phil at his side. For the first time, he’s excited about what the future holds.

Then, one day, he finds himself suddenly back inside his childhood bedroom a decade in the past, and getting to that future with Phil becomes a lot more difficult.

The Head and The Heart (ao3) - selinawrites

Summary: The seemingly heartless workaholic Dan Howell never expected to find love. A divorce lawyer by trade, he knew all the cynics of the heart, all the secrets of the soul. He never expected one night looking up at the stars to awaken the reckless abandon and rebellion he never felt before, Dan Howell never expected to find love, nonetheless in a plant shop of all places whilst making impulsive decisions and unlocking truths he never fathomed to believe.

the hoodie bow incident (ao3) - antiadvil

Summary: they were kissing.

The Knight (ao3) - PsychoRadiance

Summary: Prince Daniel of Arabella: second heir to the royal throne, son of King Marcus and Queen Pippin, and a massive pain in the ass. Prince Daniel’s father is seeking a private protection unit for his son, but The Prince seems slightly unwilling to comply to this arrangement.

The Knight of Wands (ao3) - Nefertiti1052 (Succubusphan)

Summary: Phil had always had dreams that he couldn't quite comprehend and a certain intuition about what was truly important for his future.

the ladyknight dan fic (ao3) - baroquen

Summary: It's 1138, and Civil War is stirring in England. In the North, rumors of a Scottish invasion have begun to spread. Dan is a knight whose disguise as a man has recently fallen to pieces. Phil is the odd daughter of a country lord. They fall in love. This is a story about some of those things.

the last act of the show (ao3) - vvelna

Summary: Phil has made a living from faking relationships for nearly a decade. His new client is an actor named Dan Howell.

The Locker Room (ao3) - thewakeless

Summary: Dan and Phil meet and fuck in the University showers.

The Lovers’ Gap (ao3) - coldphannie

Summary: Dan’s on the greatest adventure of his life. He’s joined by his best friend, Phil. He learns a lot about serving his kingdom, and what’s more, he learns to fall in love.

Phil isn’t his though. Phil is someone else’s.

The Mansion - trysomecats

Summary: Dan is oddly satisfied with his position as a servant for Phil Lester, until he finds out that Phil had originally bought him for things aside from housework.

the only way to make it to ohio (ao3) - buskingalbatross

Summary: A coincidental concoction of events catalyzes a series of abnormal dreams for Phil Lester.

The Other Phil (ao3) - iihappydaysii

Summary: Phil has a beard and barely looks like himself anymore, so Phil decides to meet Dan at a bar and pretend to be a stranger to fulfill one of Dan's fantasies.

the part of you they’ll never see (is the part you’ve shown to me) (ao3) - The_Blonde

Summary: Editing Student Phils and their Ex Art Thief boyfriends.

(TW) The Path of Righteousness - TwistedRocketPower

Summary: At six years old, with his parents by his side, Daniel Howell was led through the entrance of the spiritual society God’s Guard. Raised under the leadership of The Chosen One, Joshua, this community was all Daniel knew. No matter what anyone said, God’s Guard was not a cult. It wouldn’t matter if it was one anyway, because there wasn’t anything or anyone who could take him from this place.

the perfect first date (ao3) - pasteldanhowells

Summary: Phil takes Dan out on his first date.

The Philver Scream (ao3) - UnorthodoxSavvy

Summary: While Dan’s career in the FBI is taking off, Phil is left behind to pick up the pieces of his life after his brother’s death. However, he finds himself plagued by strange nightmares that he can’t explain. Soon, people around him start dying. Can Dan and Phil’s partnership survive the mounting body count?

the pool noodle fight (ao3) - jonsaremembers

Summary: Navigating the emotional aftermath of Phil's near-death experience with the help of, uh, some foam pool toys.

The Problem With Travelling During The Holidays (ao3) - Nefertiti1052 (Succubusphan)

Summary: Dan is in a tricky situation, running to catch his connecting flight with no other than his annoying enemy right on his heels. If he could just get on the plane and be away from Lester that would save Christmas.

Luckily for Dan, things don't tend to go his way.

the second tetris block (ao3) - dizzy

Summary: Things seem to be falling into place for Phil.

The Stress, The Glory and The Afterglow (ao3) - easybubby

Summary: It’s 2024. Dan and Phil are overworked and slipping into old habits. The only difference between now and 10 years ago is that their relationship now comes first and they will do anything to protect it, even if they have to spend time apart. They treasure one wild night before they vow to keep their distance for a while.

The Sun, the Snow and Everything in Between (ao3) - Emejig16

Summary: A lot can happen in the span of one year, or a cycle of four seasons, 8,760 hours, 525,600 minutes and 31,536,000 seconds. In that common amount of time Phil met Dan at bonfire night in the fall and over the course of a year, realizes he found a person he would’ve never guessed he’d found that night.

The World Going By My Window (ao3) - CaibrynM

Summary: Dan is a reluctant Crown Prince, always watching the world outside his window and wondering what else is out there. As he walks through the village outside the Castle walls one day, he meets an quirky villager with a passion for nature, an oddly constructed house, and a secretive past.

[giggly-squiggily]

Run Your Fingers On My Tattoos (My Hero Academia)

Oh goodness, I thought this one got lost! I found it the other day and said: “Yay, Kiribaku!” I hope you like it anon!

TW: swearing/cursing. It’s Bakugou afterall :P

Summary: Bakugou get’s a new “Tattoo”, and Kirishima naturally has to check it out!

“Oi, Shitty hair; check it out!”

“I thought I told you not to call me that- whoa what the-!” The redhead gawked when Bakugou lifted his shirt, turning to the side and proudly presented the inky design across his ribs. “Holy- you got a tattoo?” “Hell yeah I did!” Bakugou grinned, looking down at the design. It was a regally drawn “K”, with two dragons encasing it in a similar shape of a heart. “I got it recently- it hurt like a bitch, but it was worth it!”

“It hurt, huh?” Kirishima raised an eyebrow- the edges of the tattoo were already fraying. “Tell me, was the water too cold when you put it on?”

Bakugou stammered, face flushing red at Kirishima’s knowing look. “I-eh, uh…gah, fine!” Bakugou rolled his eyes as his boyfriend laughed. “I bought a fake one online- the old hag would murder me dead if I came home with a real one. Besides- the guy at the parlor told me I was too young.” The blonde fumed at Kirishima’s giggle fit, softening somewhat when he snorted. “Really? It can’t be that funny!”

“I’m sorry! I’m- aehhehhehehhe! I just- god I love you.” Kirishima grinned, rolling closer in his chair and taking his boyfriend by the hips, getting a better look. “Really, I do like it! The details are amazing!” Kirishima reached out, running a finger along the curve of the dragon’s spine. “Fitting too. Have you always had a soft spot for dragons?”

“Er-Ma-aybe?” Bakugou grunted, gritting his teeth at the sudden tickly feeling. “Oi, hurry up already!”

“What? I’m just admiring the craftsmanship.” Kirishima teased, grinning cheekily. That jerk-he knew exactly what he was doing. Tracing the ‘K’, Kirishima followed after that, beginning to trace the rest of his name. “You forgot the ‘I’, the ‘R’...”

Bakugou tried his hardest to fight down the giggles, squirming in his boyfriend’s arms as Kirishima wrote his name. “K-Kirishima! F-Fuck! Ahehe-stahahap!” He snorted when the redhead got to his “s”, the spot particularly sensitive. “I gheehehhheet it! Shitititity hair!”

“Almost done~” He adjusted his grip around the blonde’s hips, keeping him trapped as he carried on writing his name. “Okay- now for the rest!” He started on the next “line”. “L….O…”

Bakugou was a mess of restrained giggles now, one hand covering his face while the other tried and failed to shove the redhead away. “Aheheahhahahhahaha! Kihiihihihihrishihihihihihma! Geheheheheheht awahhahahahhay!”

“Okay! Kirishima loves…Hm…what to put, what to put…” His boyfriend sang, tapping into the other’s waist and making Bakugou snort. “Oh! I know! K….A…”

“Gaha! Aheheahhahahhahahahha! Stahahahhhap iihihihihihihit!” Bakugou snorted with laughter, giving up on all attempts to hide it as Kirishima found that terrible spot just above his hips, slowly drawing out his name with tickly pressure. “Shihihihihihihiiht ihihihiihihhiihit tihihihiihihickles!”

“Does it?” Kirishima cooed, finally finishing ‘Katuski’. “Done! Can you tell me what that says?”

“Kihihihihihihiihihihss my aahahhhhahhhahahass!” Bakugou laughed out, the hand on his hip starting to knead gently. “Aheahhahahhaha nohohohohooho! Nohohohohooht thehehehehehehre!”

“What? Kiss my ass? That’s not what it says!” He snorted, eyes dancing suddenly. “But if you insist on kissing…” He took a massive breath, winking at the redhead before diving forward, blowing a raspberry against the blonde’s ribcage.

“GAH! AHEHAHAHAHHAHAHHA! NOHOHOHOOHOHO! FUHUHUHUHUHCK!” Bakugou exploded with laughter, his voice cracking in mirth as the redhead tickled him relentlessly, fingers kneading his tickle spots while his mouth blew raspberry after raspberry against his side. His face was bright crimson, tears of mirth dotting his eyes and threatening to spill down his cheeks. “OHOOHOHOKAY! OHOOHOOKAY! STAHAHHAHAP IT!”

“What did I write, Kats?” Kirishima asked, pausing his tickling briefly and grinning up at the giggling boy above him. “What was it?”

“Ahehe…hehehe…yohohohou jehehehehrk!” Bakugou grumbled, doubled over in breathless giggles as he attempted to rub the tickly feeling away. Meeting his boyfriend’s eyes, he thought about what was written. “Ihihit said…Kirishima loves…Katuski.” He blinked, eyes widening as a renewed blush darkened his face. “Y-You blockhead! Why’d you write that?” He stammered out, suddenly feeling uncharacteristically shy.

“Because it’s true.” Kirishima smiled, reaching up and gently tugging down Bakugou’s shirt so they were eye level. Being the little dork he was, he leaned in and kissed the blonde’s already red nose, making him startle with wide eyes. “Don’t you forget it!”

“What-Why-You!” Bakugou fumed, stammering from both the surprise kiss and Kirishima’s declaration. “That’s it! Come here!” He exploded, pinning him to the chair. The sound of Kirishima’s sweet laughter echoed around the room as Bakugou attacked his ribs, getting his revenge.

I hope this was good!

[catholicdaredevil]

Friends to lovers with foggy?? Where the reader thinks he’s in love with Marcy???

i've been thinking about this one for days i'm so excited for it but nervous i'm not gonna do foggy justice but let's see this is if reader went to landman and zack with karen and foggy in season one also this one kinda got away from me and here we are almost a full fic so this is gonna be beyond a keep reading as well this is 1.5k words and a love letter for my boy foggy

foggy bear.

those two simple words and your stomach dropped out of your ass. he hadn't brought that up before, marcy. not like he owed you anything, he was allowed to have private aspects of his life. just because you told him everything didn't mean he had to do the same. whatever moments you'd have imagined must have been just that, imagined.

"foggy bear?" karen broke the silence and foggy blushed a deep red, looking to the floor in embarrassment.

"yeah me and marcy dated in law school, back when she still had a heart." dated. past tense, that was good. except that marcy was beautiful, stunning really, long blonde hair, perfect body. her qualities all things you lacked. or you felt you lacked.

so foggy had a type. it could have been ignored when it was just karen, but with marcy in the picture it was a definite type. blondes and blind assholes. you fit neither box.

so caught up in your head you hadn't noticed the way foggy broke off from karen to stay back, walking in pace with you out into the streets. hadn't noticed until he bumped into you with a small smile. "you okay? real quiet back here."

"oh, yeah uh just thinking. you did a really good job back there," your answering grin felt fake and you hoped he wouldn't be able to notice the way the smile didn't meet your eyes. you had to get over this crush once and for all at the very least for your friendship with the man, if not your sanity.

"yeah? gave her the ol' one two huh, what can i say, i'm a really good lawyer." he elbowed you again, insistent to get a reaction out of you. it worked. you laughed softly and his face lit up, it was genuine and you were thankful. you knew he wouldn't have stopped trying until he got you to laugh, it was just who foggy was.

he cared more than anyone else you'd ever met, that was probably a factor to your crush. he was easily the best person you'd ever met, always there for everyone in his life without a thought for himself. you'd sit in the office and end up staring at him and daydreaming, luckily not getting caught. yet.

unfortunately your good mood dipped, reminded of how pointless your crush was. it wouldn't make a difference, he would only see you as a friend. you would never have the courage to try for any differently, especially not now.

"what's next foggy?" karen called back and foggy frowned at the way you seemed to lose your good mood so quickly, but if you didn't wanna talk he wouldn't push. so he picked up the pace, giving you your privacy, and started planning with karen for the next step.

you listened absently, happy to hear them talk. karen was always onto something, she was so much smarter than she let on and you wouldn't be surprised by anything she might come up with. it took the entire walk through the city back to the office for you to be able to push your feelings down. you thought you were being convincing enough, always forgetting how observant the two others could be.

"hey," foggy reached out and grabbed your arm before you could walk in the front door, pulling you back out into the hallway outside the office. "what's wrong? if you don't want to say that's fine, let me know and i'll leave it alone, but i'm here."

your chest suddenly felt heavy, breathing no longer coming easily. the hitch must have been audible based on the look on foggy's face, nothing but concern etched into his features.

"it's nothing fog, really. just thinking about something," you tried your hardest to brush it off, to brush him off. but all of those feelings you'd spent the entire walk home pushing and shoving down begged to be let out. clawing at your self control, begging to tell foggy what it really was. maybe he'd understand, it was foggy after all.

"it's not nothing, if it's bugging you this much it's not nothing." the certainty dripped from each word, him taking so seriously whatever could possibly be wrong with you. "is this about marcy?"

fuck him. fuck his observant ass, fuck the way he knew you better than you knew yourself. fuck yourself for being too easy to read.

"why would it be about marcy?" you choked out, great that was believable. you couldn't even look at him, the shame burning across your skin.

"oh i don't know, maybe because you were in a good mood before marcy and now you're not?" how did he make it so easy, he made everything so easy. talking to him like breathing, it just felt natural for you to tell him everything. you wanted to tell him, so bad. too bad.

"it's nothing, it's fine," maybe if you said it enough times you could convince him and yourself. then again maybe not if the knot in your stomach was anything to go on, just this small of a lie to him making you feel sick.

"if you don't wanna tell me just say that, instead of lying." his tone shifted to annoyed, and the churning in your stomach picked up since apparently it could get worse.

"it's not- i don't- i'm-," shit. "i'm not lying, er- i'm not trying to lie to you foggy i just- it's not fair, you don't want to know trust me."

a groan tore from his throat and he scrubbed at his face, the sudden increase in stress radiating off him in waves. "but i do want to know, and don't i get to decide."

being matt's best friend for the past ten years at least, meant foggy was stubborn. too damn stubborn.

"it's you! you're the issue! or me? i'm the issue! we're the issue!" you couldn't understand where the words were coming from, spilling out of you before you could stop them. "i'm just in love with you okay? i'm in love with you, and it's killing me. because i'm not your type or whatever- not that you'd ever say that. no you're too nice to let me down. so instead i just get to watch you and wish to god that in some world you watch me back."

the outburst wound down until you were barely whispering, the fight gone as soon as it came.

"it's just not this world, and that sucks, and it's my fault. i need to get over it, over you."

the weight on your shoulders lifted, your entire body thankful for expelling the secret that had been tying you down for months. always one step away from dragging you under. it was over, at least now he knew. the silence stretched, and when it stretched beyond what you could take, you finally looked up to see him.

he looked crazy, somehow. eyebrows knitted together, eyes closed as he struggled to piece together the puzzle you'd just thrown at his feet. waiting expectantly, your feet frozen to the spot, you couldn't leave now. not until you knew, knew whatever it was he was gonna say.

"i'm sorry, wait, why am i apologizing? what do you mean, you're 'not my type'?" when he finally spoke it was low, he sounded hurt almost and it was all your fault. but this wasn't the point you expected him to make, the aspect of your speech you thought he'd get hung up on.

"i mean that i'm not someone you'd go for. i'm not pretty, not like karen or marcy. or blonde because apparently that's a recurring theme, i'm just-" large warm hands grabbed the sides of your face as foggy slammed his mouth into yours. time felt like it slowed down, like you were moving through honey as you reached out to wind your own arms around his neck, kissed him back with fervor.

foggy kissed like you were in a movie. like the music was swelling, like your foot was popping, the audience cheering, like your whole lives had been leading up to this moment. this kiss. it was dizzying being on the receiving end of that kind of passion.

"that's the stupidest thing i've ever heard, and i hang out with matt. regularly." he spoke between kisses, his hands never wavering from their position, framing your face. you couldn't help but laugh at his words.

that was foggy, he was always so good at this. at breaking the tension, making you laugh when you'd been on the verge of crying. "it can't, can't possibly be the stupidest thing you've ever heard."

"it is!" foggy insisted, one hand traveling down the side of you until it wrapped around your waist. "the fact that you think i haven't been watching you too. that i wasn't so annoyingly head over heels for you that everyone but you saw."

"are you guys finished out there? we still have a case to win." karen called from her desk inside the office, your cheeks flooded with head and foggy laughed. he leaned back in to kiss you again, pressing all of the love he'd built up and held onto into it.

"go to dinner with me." his eyes met yours and the child-like joy he expressed made you feel lightheaded. "please? say yes."

"yes, obviously yes!" foggy pumped his fist, and cheered. you laughed and leaned forward to rest your forehead against his shoulder and he pulled you into the tightest hug imaginable.

[vintagedolan]

mixtape | track eight

| masterlist | faceclaims | playlist |

“Left or right?”

“Don’t look at me, I never fucking graduated.”

“Right, then you move it to the left,” Lisa offered, attempting to get past Grayson. He was having none of it, sticking out his tongue a bit while he focused on getting Indy’s cap arranged correctly, making sure her tassel was in the right spot. 

Indy had passed her finals with flying colors, which came as no surprise to anyone who knew her. Top of the class, which was enough for her to feel a tiny bit proud of herself. The Dolan’s on the other hand, we’re over the moon, ready to celebrate her as if it was the greatest achievement anyone could accomplish. Grayson had picked her up from her last final, coaxing her to take a nap in the truck while he drove them out to Jersey, her head in his lap as she was finally able to relax after so many days of stress. He was glad - he wanted her energy to be high when she got to the house, considering he’d planned out a big family dinner as a surprise. He’d even caved and bought her her favorite non-vegan ice cream. She was so surprised that she cried as soon as she went in and saw Ethan and Lisa in the kitchen with little fake graduation cap headbands on.

Even though surprises weren’t her favorite, he hoped he could sneak in another, considering the real one wasn’t until the next day, and it’s arrival came as a text that buzzed in Grayson’s pocket.

Here!

He cleared his throat quickly, trying to hide his excitement as he stepped back from his girlfriend.

“Hey Indiana, I think there’s something at the door for you,” he said.

She squinted at him in accusation.

“You just called me Indiana.”

“Indeed I did.”

“That’s sus.”

“Just go to the door Dee.”

“Sus.”

“Dee.”

“G.”

“Indiana Jamie Cross, will you please open your door,” he said as formally as he could, knowing it would make her laugh enough to give in.

“If something jumps out and scares me, I’ll kick your ass.”

“Holy shit just go open the door before I do it for you.” 

She walked slowly but she listened to him, pulling the door open cautiously.

“I was wondering if you were gonna let me in.” 

Indiana’s mouth fell open.

“Charlie?!”

Grayson Dolan had learned in the last week that the Cross women were stubborn beings, especially when it came to money. Which was why it took so long for him to convince the older Cross sister to let him buy her and Devin a plane ticket at Thanksgiving.

“We would love to be there, but I just bought the ticket to get out here, and money is kinda tight for us right now. I don’t know if we can swing it so soon again.” Charlie kept her voice down, pretending to look at some of the picture frames on the bookshelf while Grayson talked to her.

“I’ll buy your tickets, both of you, first class.”

“Grayson, no, I can’t ask you to do that,” she shook her head.

“But you didn’t ask. I offered, there’s a difference. C’mon, you know that she’d love to have you there.”

Charlie hesitated, bit her lip the way Indy always did. The back door opened, signaling that everyone was coming back inside and that their conversation needed to end. She looked up at him quickly, eyes darting across the room.

“I’ll think about it.”

It had taken her four days to finally agree and let Grayson send her the money for the tickets, though she insisted on flying coach, sending him back the rest of what he’d given her to cover first class, down to the cent. 

Which was how she ended up getting tackled by a very excited Indiana outside her apartment door, so hard that they almost knocked Devin over in a whirl of blonde hair. Grayson caught her cap as it flew off.

“What?! What are you doing here?! How did you get here! I thought you couldn’t come, what the fuck!”

“Ask him,” Charlie laughed, lifting her chin towards Grayson. 

She spun, eyes wide and shocked. 

“You did this?”

He couldn’t help but laugh. “You look exactly like the soft eyes emoji right now, you know that?”

“Shut up,” she smacked his chest before she buried her face in it, sniffling. 

“Hey, you don’t have to cry, you’ll mess up your mascara,” he said, pressing a kiss to her hair before she stood up straight again, letting him swipe his thumbs under her eyes. 

Ethan was watching the interaction from the couch with a bit of a frown. He pulled his eyes away and picked at some lint on his henley, but he kept his ears towards the kitchen. There was a tenderness, a careful nature in the way he spoke around Indy. It reminded him of the first time that Grayson had gotten a girlfriend. Peyton. They’d met on the first day of 7th grade, in science class, where Grayson didn’t care to pay attention, especially not with Ethan and the prettiest girl in the grade at his table. Ethan had teased his brother relentlessly until he finally got his words handed back to him when she actually agreed to a date - which involved him picking flowers out of his mom’s window box garden (he got in trouble for it later) and hiding them under his jacket when Sean dropped him off at the movie theatre. They’d kissed each other during the end credits, with tongue according to a very excited Grayson who came home and plopped himself on his brother’s bed and spilled every little detail. Ethan was single at the time, so he could only listen, and watch. Watch the way he carried her books for her to class and then sprinted to his own with only a few seconds to spare before the bell. Watched him beg his mom to dye his hair blonde when Peyton said she thought it would look cool. Watched him pass her notes all of class, not caring when Mrs. Patterson took one and read “I love you so much, you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen” in front of the whole class that included the majority of his wrestling team. And, he watched the pain on his face when they stumbled across Peyton kissing Jacob Bates behind the bus when she thought Grayson was at wrestling practice. He tried to keep it together, but he sniffled his way through Lisa dying his hair brown that night. Ethan had tried to cheer him up with his usual tactics - stupid inside jokes, making fun of Cameron, even making fun of himself. But Grayson didn’t laugh.

That was when he knew his brother loved hard. He was halfway convinced the reason that Grayson was the bigger twin in the womb was because of the size of his heart. That being said, it wasn’t unusual for Ethan to watch his brother be kind, and sweet, and loving to his girlfriend.

But there was something different with Indy. It was the first time that he could look at Grayson with a girl and see Grayson - unfiltered, unaltered. His twin brother, in his full form, not having changed a single aspect of himself to fit another person. And it made him happy. So happy that for a moment he was able to ignore the guilt that started to rush over him as he remembered all the things he’d said, about how their relationship wouldn’t work, and how Grayson needed to address it. It made him feel worse that he knew he was still right, no matter how in love his brother was. 

In the kitchen, Charlie was flicking through settings on her camera.

“I know we have to leave soon, but we have to get at least a few pictures before you get all sweaty cause you get sweaty when you’re nervous,” she said, grabbing her sister’s arm and leading her over to the windows, positioning her with the right lighting. 

They took a few normal portraits, some with her cap and some without, a few candids where Charlie did her best to make her laugh as Grayson watched on, the proudest smile on his face.

“Alright, I want one, I want one!” Devin chimed in, surprising both the Cross sisters. They turned to him with the same expression that had him laughing so hard he held his chest. It was the loudest sound that any of the Dolan’s had ever heard come out of him, but it was contagious enough to have them all smiling.

“What?! It’s not every day my little sis graduates college!” He teased, going to ruffle her hair but thinking better of it at the last minute, instead choosing to wrap her up in the biggest hug, her face adorably squished in the picture that Charlie captured.

After that, it was a revolving door of poses with everyone. Lisa fixed Indy’s hair for her before their picture, and Ethan stole her cap and wore it himself. He offered to take the camera, thankful for Charlie’s settings that seemed to work magic as he took a few cute one of the duo, even a few with Indy on Charlie’s back. Devin joined in and they recreated the shoot from their engagement party that Indy still had on the top shelf. 

By the time it was Grayson’s turn, Indy’s cheeks were sore from smiling. But she couldn’t help but beam at him as he waltzed over to her in his dress pants and button down, all dressed up for her big day. She did her best to ignore the click of the camera as Grayson fixed her cap, moved her honors cords so they were even where they hung. They took the normal formal poses, and Grayson stole Ethan’s idea of borrowing the cap. But Indy gasped when he tossed it to the side and scooped her up bridal style, laughing as he held her tight and kissed her cheek, even dipped her a bit and looked up at Charlie for the photo op. Indy put it on her mental to-do list to get them printed as soon as she could, beyond excited to see them once Charlie sent them over. 

“Okay, we gotta go or we’re gonna be late,” Lisa said, making sure everyone had what they needed for the short walk to the university. Everyone layered up, but while Grayson disappeared in search of his dress coat, Indy pulled her sister aside.

“Hey um. Did… did Dad talk to you at all this week?”

Charlie’s face melted into pity. “I’m sorry bubs.”

“No it’s fine, it’s no big deal. Didn’t expect him to, I just wanted to check so I didn’t get blindsided or anything if he showed up.” 

Charlie just nodded and gave her a small smile. She didn’t tell her little sister that she’d told Kenneth about her graduation - four times, actually. He’d never responded, though she could see that he’d read them. Charlie was so used to making excuses for him that she had a whole list of them backed up. He had to work. Traffic. He wanted to come, but something came up. But when she looked at Indy, who wasn’t so much her little sister anymore, she bit her tongue, put her arm around her and headed out the door.

The ceremony was in the science building. John Clark University didn’t have anywhere big enough to house the entire graduating class, so they opted to split it up into smaller ceremonies by discipline instead.

“It should be pretty quick actually, there’s not a ton of us,” Indy said when they arrived, looking over her shoulder at all the graduates moving to get checked in and lined up.

“We’ll wave when you come out so you can find us!” To Indy’s surprise, Lisa’s eyes were teary. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Li,” Indy smiled, pulling her in for a last minute hug, trying not to get emotional herself at the fact that a woman who had no obligation to love her cared so much.

“Don’t trip,” Ethan grinned, nudging her shoulder to lighten the mood.

She turned to Grayson, kissing him quickly before she finally headed off, looking back a few times before she disappeared around the corner. 

“Okay seats, seats, we gotta get good ones!” Charlie exclaimed, immediately leading the group through the rows - it was a massive lecture hall with the flip down chairs Grayson had only seen in movie theatres and movies. When they finally found five seats together, he found himself wandering what it was like to be in class somewhere so big, with so many other people learning the same thing. 

Despite feeling like they were running late, there were plenty more graduates and families that filed into the building, taking their seats and patiently awaiting the procession. 

Thirty minutes later they finally began to file through, a straight line of black robes and red and white tassels. Charlie spotted Indiana first, with Grayson a millisecond behind her, both of them standing up to wave until she saw them and waved back. He kept track of her as she went to sit down in her row, kept his eyes on her as best he could while the main speaker began his speech. He didn’t care what he had to say - he only had eyes for his girl, who looked back every so often and offered him a little wave that still had his heart fluttering like they were hiding in the curtains of Emma’s room all over again. 

Grayson hadn’t experienced a lot of moments of pride in his lifetime. There were a few he could pinpoint - when Ethan won one of their wrestling tournaments in middle school, when their team won their lacrosse championship. When his mom’s salon won best in the city a few years back, when his sister graduated college. But what he felt in that next moment topped every single one. 

The dean of the college of sciences asked everyone to hold their applause, and without any prior consulting, Indy’s entire squad ignored the rule.

“Indiana Jamie Cross. Bachelor’s of Biological Sciences. Summa Cum Laude.”

“WOOOOOO, YEAH DEE!” Grayson yelled it at the top of his lungs, not even noticing the way everyone turned to look at him. He could see Indy’s blush all the way from the stage as they all continued clapping until the next person was called. 

For a moment he was afraid she was embarrassed, but when she took her seat again he saw her turn around and blow him a quick kiss. He caught it in the air and threw her a wink, excited to get to her to give her a real one, which was exactly what he did when she finally made it out of the stream of people at the end of the ceremony. Everyone’s hearts melted when he spun her around and planted one on her.

Charlie took a few more pictures of her with her diploma before Grayson spoke back up.

“Alright, coffee’s on me!” 

It seemed to have gotten somewhat colder outside as the wind whipped around the buildings, and Indy curled into a much warmer Grayson as the group headed down the sidewalk. He moved his finger to her palm.

P-R-O-U-D-O-F-U

She leaned her cheek against his shoulder, her blush almost warm enough to soak through his coat. 

But it was nothing compared to the redness that spread over her cheeks when she walked into Jets.

“HAPPY GRADUATION INDIANA!” 

The cry was championed by Patrick, who stood in the lobby absolutely beaming at her, below a banner that they’d hung above the espresso bars that read the same. Indy didn’t have to ask - the grin on Grayson’s face gave it away. She wanted to ask him how long he’d planned that surprise, how many more he had in store. She felt woefully undeserving, especially when she realized that Patrick had shut down the store for an hour just for her. 

“And I thought you giving me free coffee was bad for business,” she said in his ear when she hugged him. 

“I don’t know what lover boy over there does but he covered normal sales for the hour and then some,” he mumbled.

One of the baristas handed Ethan a sign that read “closed for private celebration” to hang on the door, and then it was truly time to celebrate. Indy walked behind the bar like she had a million times before, happy to see that everything was still in the same place. Patrick threw her an apron that she jokingly tied on over her robe before she clapped her hands together. 

“Alright, who wants what?” 

She made some of her best latte art that day - leaves, a flower for Lisa, a slightly lopsided swan for Devin per his request. It felt nice to be in a familiar place doing something she was good at - it blanketed over the uncertainty that had begun to settle in when she realized that everything was on a trajectory of change. She would never sit in another undergraduate course, never have some of her favorite professors again. And there was always the factor of possibly looking at other schools - they all started their programs in the fall, which meant she had time to truly look, if she really wanted to. From her first tour of campus she’d always thought she would be at JCU for her whole academic career, but her mind began to wander when she heard the buzzing of all the other top schools that her cohort were applying to - Baylor, Harvard, and the one that had piqued her interest the most, UCLA.

She’d googled their admission rates one night when Grayson had fallen asleep during a back scratch, and her chances looked good. Really good. But she’d closed the tab quickly - LA was too far away from New York, from home.

“Hey. Where’d you go?” Grayson’s voice was soft as he clinked his mug against hers to get her attention. 

“Just thinking,” she smiled, turning her head and tilting up until he kissed her quickly. “I’ll be right back.”

Indiana hopped off her barstool and headed back behind the bar, following Patrick who had disappeared to the back storage room. It was like walking into a friend’s house you hadn’t been to in a while when she passed through the swinging door. The freezers on the left and the syrups in organized rows on her right, just like before. 

“Don’t even think about trying to do any dishes while you’re here,” Patrick said, his back still to her as she moved to the sink. She’d had too much time to think while she sat and waited for her name to be called during the ceremony - too much empty mental space that could be allotted to all the things she should be doing. Which meant she’d managed to hatch up a whole plan to better herself in more ways than one in a mere 20 minutes. 

“Do you guys still have the same insurance policy for employees? Like the new health benefits, the mental health ones that you all put in like two months before I left?”

Patrick turned the water off.

“Yeah, insurance is the same, it covers four therapy sessions a month for anyone who qualifies. But that’s just for full time employees. But I could probably pull a few strings and get you some benefits with part time hours… is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah everything is fine! I was just curious. Thanks.” 

Indy turned to leave, jumping a bit when she realized that Charlie was behind her. 

“What’re you doing back here?”

“I was looking for Patrick, there’s a delivery guy here with milk,” Charlie explained, but there was a seriousness in her brows that let Indy know that she had not only heard enough of the conversation, but that she was definitely going to have to talk about it later.

Damn.

She pushed the thought aside and put on another smile before they all exited the backroom, laughing at the sight of one of Ethan trying to steam milk. He turned at her entrance and lost his focus, moving the pitcher down too far and spraying almond milk everywhere before the barista who was helping him flipped the wand back up.

“Eden’s on facetime for you over there!” He pointed towards the counter and his phone, which Indy happily picked up to find a beaming Eden, who informed her that she’d sent a card that would probably be there a few days late, but she’d tried. She stayed on FaceTime while they all thanked Patrick again and headed back to the apartment, Lisa unveiling the gift pile and vegan cookie cake she’d managed to sneak in while Grayson had distracted Indiana with questions about his outfit choices. Almost every gift made Indiana cry - just the idea that they’d spent any time thinking about her was enough to have her emotional anyways. But between the blanket that Lisa had embroidered with JCU 20’, Ethan’s gift of a JCU Alumni sweatshirt and Indy’s dream record player that Charlie and Devin had got her, she was teary-eyed. Her mouth fell open when Grayson came out with a giant box from the spare room - she couldn’t for the life of her figure out how he’d managed to sneak it in past her - but she didn’t care when she unwrapped it and realized it was a Mastrena.

“You bought me an espresso machine? Grayson! These things cost a fortune!”

“Yeah, but you graduated college! And now you can make lattes all the time.”

“Gray-”

“And you can make me lattes,” he teased, knowing it would take her a while to fully accept it. She just shook her head when he kissed her cheek, overwhelmed.

By the time the night was coming to a close, everyone was piled onto the couch, with Charlie and Indy on their boyfriend’s laps to make room for everyone as they watched Collateral Beauty at Indy’s request. Grayson frowned when she sniffled and held her when she cried, eyes more focused on her than the screen. And he couldn’t say he was too sad to see Lisa and Ethan say goodbye, or for Devin and Charlie to say their goodnights before they disappeared into the spare room. 

The duo brushed their teeth in the sink side by side, and Grayson snapped a picture of them in the mirror with a foamy smile before they stripped down to underwear and scurried under the covers. 

Indy was just as glad to have him to herself for the first time all day, and she soaked in his warmth, sighing when he pulled her closer. 

“I love you. Thank you for today.”

Y-O-U-R-E-W-E-L-C-O-M-E he traced on her shoulder blade, lips on her forehead. 

T-I-R-E-D?

“Why?” Grayson smirked, laughing quietly when she smacked his chest.

“It’s been a long day, that’s why.”

“For you,” he corrected.

“You had to sit around and watch me all day though.”

“You say that as if it’s something I wouldn’t enjoy. I could celebrate you everyday baby.” 

She blushed at his words, burying her face in his neck. 

“For someone as accomplished as you, you really suck at letting people acknowledge your accomplishments,” he teased, running his fingertips over her skin lightly. She did the same over his chest, tracing a hexagon. 

“I’m… I’m not used to people being proud of me I guess.”

Grayson frowned and pulled back and looked at her, really looked in her eyes. They were still the color of the jellyfish, just a bit duller in the low light of her bedroom. 

“I’m proud of you Indiana.” He paused, offering her a small smile. “But you know what? I’m not the most proud.”

Indy waited.

“Your mom. She’s gotta be the most proud of you. She’s seen every single minute you put in to get where you are right now.”

She crumpled into his chest, and the tears that had threatened her all day finally fell, hot and salty as they traveled onto his skin. It was quiet in the room for a while, and Grayson waited patiently - quietly, until she spoke again.

“I felt her today. She was there.”

“Yeah?”

“I didn’t see her or anything. But I had a dream about her the other night though, and it felt like she was really there with me. And it felt like that today too. Does that ever happen to you? With your dad?”

“Oh all the time. He’s always with me. Sometimes it’s stronger than other times - like when I’m about to do stupid shit, or make a mistake, I can hear him clear as day in my head. But it’s comforting, you know? Knowing they’re there, watching over us.”

“Yeah.” Indy’s throat was tight all over again. She wished she could have met Sean for a moment, and then she realized that in some ways, in knowing Grayson, she had.

“You know, one of the things that really stuck with me, towards the end, was something his nurse said. Her name was Charlotte, and she must have been working fucking overtime because she was always there. But one day I was in the hallway, cause I just needed a break, and she came and sat down next to me on the floor. And at that point, I mean we knew. We didn’t know when, but we knew. And she looked at me and she said ‘sweetheart, this is a gift for him. He gets so much more time with you, because he can always be with you instead of only sometimes.’ And I remember, I was so fucking mad at her, because who the fuck says that shit to someone whose about to lose their parent? But she was right. She was so fucking right.

“And while the doctors were in and out, giving us all these numbers and all these timelines and all that, Charlotte was the only one who really told me anything that mattered. I don’t know if I ever told you this, but my dad didn’t want to know anything about his… his cancer. He didn’t want to know his counts, or how much time he had left. He never asked, and she was the only one who stood by him in that, made sure that he didn’t know anything he didn’t want to. And it meant so much to him, in the end, that he had that choice. That was one of the only things he asked us to do, before he went. He told us not to cry, and he told us to take care of Ma, and Cam, but he told us to look out for Charlotte too. When we could think, we went back to the unit, asked the other nurses if there was anything she needed, and it turns out she’d been driving a 1995 Honda for a decade, and she didn’t think it would make it through the rest of the winter. We bought her an SUV, and I still don’t think she knows it was us, but I swear my dad told me which one to get for her. And he was so fucking proud.”

Indiana hung on his every word, watching him as he watched the ceiling, like he always did when he talked about his father. 

“He has so much to be proud of Grayson. He helped raise a wonderful, wonderful man. The best, actually.” 

Her voice snapped him out of his own head, and he turned to her quickly, worried.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to do that.”

“Hey, don’t ever apologize for that. I like hearing about your dad, and it’s good to get it out sometimes. You can tell me anything that’s on your mind, you know that.” 

He looked at her, there in his arms, eyes a bit puffy from tears passed, that soft smile on her lips that was somehow more endearing than her full one, and he felt tears of his own start to prickle. He knew she meant it, knew she would be understanding, and that somehow made it worse.

What was he supposed to say? I love you so much, and I think you’re the love of my life, but our lives are completely different, and I promised I wouldn’t ask you to go to LA, and I’m terrified of losing you and I don’t want to hurt you.

His lips parted, and then he closed them again. She yawned so hard that her nose scrunched, and when she was done she curled back up against his chest, wrapping her arms around him. 

“M’tired,” she mumbled, which meant she was already half asleep.

He pulled the covers over her shoulders and kissed her hair.

“I love you,” she whispered, tracing the same letters she spoke.

“I love you more.” His voice was tight as his finger moved against the back of her arm, and he turned the lamp off before any of his tears fell. 

-----------------------------------------------------------------

When Indiana woke up, Grayson’s arms were like a cage around her. Usually, they were still somewhat intertwined when they woke, but she’d never had to maneuver her way out of his arms with so much force before.

She finally managed it, and replaced herself with a pillow that he gladly pulled to his chest. Indy couldn’t help but to lean over and brush some of his floppy hair out of his eyes, staring for a moment before she pulled herself away and headed into the kitchen. 

The reason for her early wake up was standing in front of the fridge, with a head of blonde hair that resembled a birds nest. 

When she turned around, she looked guilty as ever.

“Shit, did I wake you up?”

“Nah,” Indy reassured her sister with a smile, moving over to the coffee machine. “It’s 10 anyways, I’m surprised I slept that long.”

Grayson had gotten her a newer version that was actually fairly quiet, but she made sure both the bedroom doors were shut before she ground the espresso for her latte, and Charlie’s flat white. 

Charlie was nice enough to wait until she had her mug to bring it up.

“So.”

Indy sighed. “So.”

“You asked Patrick about insurance stuff.”

“Yes.”

“So you’re going to work there again?”

“I have to pay rent somehow, don’t I?”

“Dad pays your rent.”

“I don’t want dad to pay my rent, that’s the whole issue.”

“Okay, but you didn’t ask Patrick about salary, you asked him about insurance. For mental health specifically.”

“You know, it’s not polite to eavesdrop.”

“Are you okay? Because you know that you can always talk to me about stuff, whatever it is. And I know I’m not the best about talking about mom, but I can try, I’ve been doing better with it and-”

“Char. Stop. It’s not about mom.”

“Oh.” It was obvious by her long pause that she hadn’t considered an alternative, but Indy waited anyways.

“Then… what’s going on?”

Indy toyed with the foam on her latte with her finger, ignoring how hot it was.

“I was thinking about trying to get a handle on the plane thing.”

“Oh.”

“I don’t want it to be such a big deal for me to just, fucking fly somewhere. I gotta get over that shit.”

Charlie pondered it for a minute, and she chose her next words carefully.

“Just to fly? Or to fly to a specific place.”

Indy laughed.

“You know, you’ve never been good at subtle. You got that from mom. But no, I’m not just doing it because of Grayson.”

“Did he ask you to?”

“Of course not, he wouldn’t do that.” Charlie’s shoulders relaxed. “But he does live in LA, which means I’ve gotta be able to fly out there.”

“How often?”

“I don’t know, we haven’t really talked about it.” 

“Oh. Doesn’t he leave soon though?”

“January.” She said it casually.

“Inds that’s next month.”

“We’ll figure it out.” 

Charlie had a million more questions, but she held her tongue and sipped her coffee. 

“I’ve gotta pack, our flight leaves in a few hours. I’m assuming you don’t have any breakfast food.”

“Actually, I do, but I’m not the breakfast chef around here.”

She sat her mug down on the counter and threw Charlie a wink before she headed back into her room as quietly as she could, sneaking up to the edge of the bed. Grayson had rolled to his stomach, something in his unconscious realizing that the pillow that he’d tossed away was in fact not his girlfriend. He almost looked too adorable to disturb.

Almost.

She went the gentle route, changing her mind on the pounce plan that she’d originally made. Instead, she crawled up the mattress and over his back, laying down on top of him with her cheek pressed to his warm shoulder.

He grunted a bit, but it turned into a sigh when she started peppering kisses along his skin.

“Mornin gorgeous,” he grumbled, eyes still closed. “What’re you doin’ back there?”

“Just hanging out.”

“Well- “ he rolled slightly, just enough to pull her over his side and onto the mattress so he could move right back with her underneath him -” maybe you should hang out down here instead.”

She relaxed into him like she always did, peppering kisses against his chest. Her hands ran over the ripples of muscles in his arms before she stopped and traced.

B-R-E-A-K-F-A

“Ahhh, so you didn’t just come in here for cuddles huh,” Grayson cut her off with a smile, quirking an eyebrow when she looked up at him. 

“If you make us all avocado toast I’ll pay you in cuddles,” she offered. It puffed up Grayson’s chef alter ego just enough to convince him to get out of bed and throw some pants on. Indy stayed closed to him, soaking up the last bits of warmth from the morning as she helped him prep everything for breakfast. She could have done it, but Grayson’s pride at a very nicely laid out plate of avo toast, strawberries and honeydew was the best addition she could make. So she stuck to the coffees instead, passing over mugs as Devin appeared and Charlie followed, though she was still working on her cup from earlier. 

“Well, now I see how he turned you into a breakfast person,” she said, graciously accepting a plate. They ate over quiet conversation, enjoying the last little bit of time they had before the airport and the inevitable goodbye. Grayson had bonded with the duo even more during their visit, and he was sad to see them having to leave again so soon. When Indy went to change, Grayson followed her, frowning when she didn’t pick her warmest jacket. 

“It’s supposed to get really cold out, you’ll probably want your big one,” he said as subtly as he could, popping his knuckles as he spoke. 

“I thought it was supposed to be a little warmer today,” she pouted. “We’re only gonna be outside to walk to the car.”

“Right, but you’re always cold. Just wear that one.” He gave her his most dazzling smile and she gave in, sliding in on before she left. Grayson was grateful that she listened - it meant he didn’t have to reveal his final graduation surprise too soon. He bit his tongue on the drive to the airport, gave out his hugs to Charlie and Devin, squeezing Indy into his side when she sniffled at the sight of her sister disappearing into the terminal.

Indy didn’t have a single suspicion until Grayson took a different turn into the city, much earlier than usual - 50th, instead of 26th.

“Bub? This is the wrong way.”

“No it isn’t.”

“We get off on 26th for the garage.”

“We aren’t going to the garage.” He couldn’t keep the smile off his face - the sheepish one that always made Indy’s heart flutter. She’d seen it so many times, but it still had the same effect on her every single time.

“Well then where are we going?” There was a childlike excitement in her voice that made Grayson laugh. He pulled her hand up to his face, kissed her skin softly. 

“You’ll see.”

The first stop it seemed, was a jewelry store.

“This is not the surprise by the way, just an errand. Gotta pick up a christmas gift for mom.” 

“I was gonna get her a sweater for christmas, do you think she’ll like that?” 

“Li does love a good sweater. She’ll love anything you get her though, you’re the favorite.”

Indy rolled her eyes but didn’t respond as one of the workers came up and asked what they were there for. When Grayson gave his name she headed to the back and came back out with a small box.

“May I?” She asked.

Grayson nodded, waiting for her to open it. Inside was a beautiful ring, silver and delicate, with a large light blue stone in a princess cut.

“It’s beautiful,” Indy mused.

“Blue topaz. My dad’s birthstone. Mine and E’s too. You think she’ll like it?”

“Gray she’ll love it, of course she’ll love it.”

“I hope so.” His nerves were evident - he was always on a mission to make sure that his mom still had a good Christmas, although she always said all she needed was to have her kids back under her roof for the day. He paid the final portion of the ring payment and slipped the box into his pocket, waiting until they were back outside to turn to Indy with a wide smile.

“Now, we really celebrate.”

They walked hand in hand down the street. Indy kept her protests to herself - she wasn’t used to being spoiled in any way. In fact, it still made her uncomfortable when anyone spent money on her in any form, but she tried to remind herself that money didn’t mean the same thing to him as it did to her. So when they strolled up to one of the nicer restaurants in the city for a late lunch, she bit her tongue and tried not to think about the prices, following him inside to the warmth. It was dimly lit, the type of place where the host would take your coat off and pull your chair out for you.

Grayson beat him to it, fingers brushing over her shoulders while he pulled her coat off. She felt underdressed in just jeans and a sweater, but he looked at her like she hung the moon for him and him alone, and she wondered for a moment if there would ever be a day in their lives together that he couldn’t make her blush just by looking at her. 

The menu didn’t even have prices next to the items, and it made Indy’s mouth dry enough for her to finish her water before the waiter even came back for their order. 

Grayson noticed. He always noticed. He reached a hand across the small table for her hand, thumb running over her smooth acrylics that she’d gotten pre-graduation.

“Why are you nervous bub?”

“This place is expensive,” she explained after a moment’s hesitation.

“And graduating college a year early is a feat worth celebrating,” he reminded her, raising up his wine glass filled with water. “Despite the fact that you seem to hate being celebrated.”

“I don’t hate being celebrated. I’m just… not used to it I guess. Wasn’t a big Cross family thing, even before.”

“Well, it’s a big Dolan family thing.”

“I guess I better get used to it then.” 

She clinked her glass against his as he swallowed hard, the movement of his throat hidden by the lighting. He pushed the thoughts from his head, the constant nagging he seemed to never be able to escape from, the better part of his conscience begging him to do the right thing, to tell her what he was thinking. She didn’t deserve for him to drag it out if he really was going to end things - she deserved so much more, more than he could give her with the life that he led. But every time he thought he had the courage to say something she’d reel him back in with a smile, or a witty comment, or just a look, entirely unaware of what she was doing. And he couldn’t imagine her anywhere else but the spot that she’d managed to carve out in his soul in just a few short months. He knew deep down he’d never find anyone else to fill it, but he also knew that she deserved to live the life she wanted to. A life without a boyfriend whose life interfered with hers. He just didn’t know how to reconcile with the fact that he would break her heart, and his own in the process.

So, he ignored his conscience and gave in to the selfish side of himself. 

When she asked where he’d gone, he said he was planning, and it wasn’t a lie. If he was only going to have so many days with her, he wasn’t willing to sacrifice a single moment.

So he held her hand on top of the table while they waited for their food, striking up a conversation about college memories and her classmates that she would miss the most. The food was as incredible as he expected, and he made a mental note to thank Ethan for the recommendation. Grayson made sure that Indy didn’t see the inside of the bill when the waiter brought it, even being careful to slip the $200 in cash in the billfold practically under the table. 

He led her back out into the cold, for once thankful for the early sunset of NYC that already had the city lights glowing against the fading sky. There was something magical about it, about existing on the streets with so many other people, knowing each one of them had their own story and life that they led. Indy people watched as Grayson led her safely down the streets, letting her cling onto his arm for comfort and warmth. It was only a few blocks until they saw the metallic flags and turned the corner to find the Rockefeller Center tree, massive and glorious in its height. It was speckled with what seemed like millions of lights, all twinkling in bright colors amongst the branches. 

“Wow.”

Grayson watched the wonder on her face with a chuckle. “You’re a New Yorker, aren’t you supposed to be used to this shit?”

She smacked his arm, but kept her eyes forward. “I haven’t been to see it in years. It’s beautiful.”

He looked at her. “Yeah. Beautiful.” 

He let her admire it as long as she wanted, resting his cheek against the top of her head when she leaned over on him. 

“You wanna get closer?”

She frowned at him. “How?”

Grayson started walking with her in tow, down the stairs and around the plaza until he got to the ground level, fishing two tickets out of his jacket pocket for the attendant at the front of the ice rink. Indiana squeezed his arm. 

“Gray. Baby, this is so sweet, but I can’t skate for shit.” 

“Why am I not surprised,” he laughed, shaking his head before he kissed her forehead. “I won’t let you fall. Promise.” 

They checked out their skates quickly, lacing up on one of the benches before Indy rose on wobbly feet, immediately letting out a squeal and reaching for her boyfriend. He caught her with a laugh, adjusting his own balance before they started walking to the edge of the ice. That familiar Grayson confidence was evident as he stepped on, getting his bearings before he reached out a hand for her.

“C’mon, I’ve got you. You got this, just one foot at a time.”

She grabbed both his hands and let him counteract her weight as she tried to get her footing, finally finding her balance after a moment of wobbling.

“Okay, now push off with one foot and glide with the other. Like this.”

He went to let go to demonstrate, and she clung to his hands with a squeak. “Don’t let go!”

Grayson’s cackle bounced off the ice. “Okay, okay! I’m right here, you’re good. Just try.”

Indy didn’t like not being good at things. But god was she terrible at ice skating. It didn’t matter how much instruction Grayson tried to give her, it was like it refused to translate into the movement of her legs. She was adorable when she was frustrated, but Grayson wanted it to be enjoyable for her too, so after a few laps around of watching her struggle he slid behind her, hands solid on her hips.

“Just keep your legs and feet straight, and I’ll do the rest.”

She held onto his hands as he started to push her along - she’d forgotten that he was annoyingly athletic but the feeling of actually gliding across the ice kept her from teasing him about it. It was peaceful, and despite the crowd both on the ice and above them by the tree, she felt like they were the only two in the city. 

Grayson took them through the middle after they’d gone around a few times, towards the center for one pass and she squeezed his hand when they got there.

“Wait, stop!”

He turned his skates, throwing a bit of ice onto her ankles on accident, peaking over her shoulder.

“What’s up?”

“Turn me around. Please.”

He did as she asked, faster than he meant to, and it had her nails digging into his shoulders as he tried to hold her up without them both going down. She was breathing fast when he got them steady, quirking an eyebrow.

“We gotta take a picture in front of the tree!” 

He obliged, pulling his phone out of his pocket and turning them slowly until the tree was behind them, snapping a few of the two of them smiling before he kissed her cheek, and then her lips, randomly pressing the button and hoping they were still in frame. 

Her lips were cold against his, and tasted like the vanilla chapstick she’d put on before they’d left the restaurant. It sent tingles down the back of his neck that made him put his phone back in his pocket and pull her closer to him. 

Wrong move. He’d never met someone so uncoordinated in his life, and it was the closest call of them all when her legs started to flail. His only hope of saving her from hitting the ice was to pick her up fully and hope that he could keep his balance with the sudden weight shift. 

“Sorry,” she said sheepishly, clinging to his neck while he laughed.

“What am I gonna do with you,” he teased, and in a moment of confidence he dipped her down like they were dancing and kissed her again. The same tingle went down his neck, the hair there standing up, still there even when he sat her on her skates again, keeping an arm wrapped around her waist. 

Above them, as if someone had turned on a machine, it began to snow. Big fluffy flakes fell around them, disappearing into Indy’s light hair and speckling the top of Grayson’s. It was magic in its simplest form, and Indy couldn’t help but beam at him. 

“I love you. So much.”

“I love you more,” he said, and he meant it. 

They headed off the ice a few minutes before their session expired, unlacing their boots with numb fingers that they shoved in their pockets for the walk back to the truck. As soon as they climbed in the cab Grayson blasted the heat and opened an arm for Indy to cuddle up next to him. Once they were thawed enough, Grayson proposed the idea of hot chocolate, specifically to help the fact that Indy’s teeth were still chattering. Which was how they ended up at Jet’s 40 minutes later, squished together in the blue chair by the window, watching the snow fall as they sipped peppermint hot chocolates that Patrick had given them on the house. Grayson dropped a 20 in the tip jar anyways. 

The lobby was busy, with people in and out constantly, wiping the snow off their shoes as best they could on the small doormat. They shuffled through the line, a few of them sitting down for a moment to wait for their names to be called. Indy was used to the bustle, though she felt a bit guilty that she wasn’t behind the bar helping out when she had the skills to. Instead, she just smiled any time a barista looked her way, and spent the rest of her time watching the snow outside.

Grayson’s eyes were on a girl. A few girls, actually, who looked oddly familiar though he couldn’t place where he’d seen them before. They’d sat at a table towards the back of the store, having come in right behind him and Indy. But since then they’d moved forward one table, and then another, and the not so subtle way that two of them had angled their phone had that familiar prickle at the back of his neck rising again. He shifted in his chair quickly, turning his head away and attempting to do his best to block the view of Indiana.

“Hey, you ready to get outta here?”

“Did you finish already?” She asked, surprised considering her cup was still half full. 

“Yeah,” he lied. “Just figured we could get home and change into some cozy pjs is all.”

“That sounds nice.” Indy moved in to kiss his cheek, and though he tried to pull away, he didn’t do it fast enough. 

“You alright?”

“Yeah, I’m good.” Two for two. “Let’s just get home.” 

The walk was as short as ever, but it was enough time for Indy’s mind to race. Had he been annoyed that she said something about the restaurant being expensive? Maybe he hadn’t wanted to help her ice skate - most people could at least hold themselves up on the rails at least. But he’d seemed so happy, which somehow made her feel worse, that she’d missed it somehow.

By the time they made it to the elevator, she was borderline panicking.

“Are you sure you’re okay? Did I do something?”

Her words broke Grayson out of his own thoughts, and he rushed into reassurances.

“No, it’s not you baby. It’s not, I promise.”

“Then what is it? And don’t say it’s nothing.” 

“I’m good, really. Just wanted to get home.”

For the first time in her almost three months of knowing Grayson, she didn’t believe him. But she knew when to drop a subject, so she just nodded and followed him out of the elevator. 

Half of Grayson’s wardrobe seemed to have migrated into Indy’s apartment, so it wasn’t hard to find cozy clothes that had them curled up together on the couch in no time. Grayson felt guilty, and tried to distract himself by running his fingers through her soft hair, tried to focus on the weight of her leaned against him. She was quiet as she scrolled through show after show, not really looking. She picked a random cooking show eventually just to fill the silence in the room, moving to lay across Graysons lap. His hand moved under her shirt, fingers still a bit cold as he ran them lightly over her skin. 

She didn’t say anything, just glad to have him there with her. She traced on top of his sweatpants, shapes and words, L-O-V-E-Y-O-U and T-H-A-N-K-Y-O-U. The fabric was so thick that he could barely make out what she was writing.

“Thank you? For what?” 

She rolled over so she was looking up at him. “For today. For celebrating me.” 

He traced a thumb over her cheek. “You’re welcome. I love you. So much.”

“C’mere,” Indy said, reaching up for him. It took some shifting, but eventually they got settled where they were laying together on the couch, with her pressed between the cushions and his chest. She was warm as she kissed him, slow and calculated, trying to get across to him that she was there for whatever he was going through without the words. He reciprocated, but his mind was still spinning, images of the girls and their phones behind his eyelids. 

The kiss faded out into cuddles which faded into an uncomfortable silence that Indy was desperate to resolve.

“What’s the update on the tiny homes? Weren’t the floor guys supposed to come in yesterday?”

“Yeah, Ethan went out there and said they were almost done. We’ve got some interior designers coming out tomorrow and then they’ll be done-done,” Grayson explained, heart rate rising as yet another opportunity to tell her came up. 

“They really got those done so fast. I guess that’s a perk of a tiny home though, not much floor space to floor. How often do you guys think you’re gonna come out and stay in them?”

He licked his lips, trying to find the right words to tell her. 

“Well, actually-”

His phone buzzed in his pocket - a call from Ethan. 

He didn’t know whether to feel grateful or annoyed, but he fished his phone out of his pocket anyways, sliding over to answer. 

“Yo.”

“Hey, mom wants to put up the christmas decs tomorrow cause she still doesn’t have them up. You remember where we put the lights?”

“Yeah, they’re in the attic I think, with the tree.”

“Well, you’re the family santa, so get your ass out here early tomorrow to hang some lights. And bring Indy too, I’ll make breakfast.”

“Don’t make breakfast, we’ll bring donuts or something.”

“Fuck you, be here at 10.”

He hung up, making Grayson roll his eyes and look down at Indy.

“You up for Christmas decorating tomorrow at home tomorrow?”

“Yeah, that sounds like fun! But I’m sure as fuck not getting on the roof.”

He kissed her forehead. “I’ll do the roof, you can do the stuff inside with Ma. Deal?”

“Deal,” she smiled, wiggling up to kiss him again, trying to chase out the rest of her worries before she curled up into his chest. 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The snow had piled onto the sides of the highway in ugly mounds stained with dirt and asphalt drudged up by the plows. So Indy kept her eyes on the trees as they flew by, specifically the evergreens she saw, with their green bristles weighted down with white, heavy and thick. 

“Are you sure you guys wanna get on the roof with all this? Won’t it be slick?”

“Nah, Dad used to do it all the time. I’ll just make E shovel while I try to find the clips we put up there last year. Besides, if I fall off I’ve got a doctor to mend me up,” he teased, squeezing her leg. 

“I’m not a doctor yet.”

“Okay, well an almost doctor then. How many years until you’re actually one again?”

“11 years minimum. Well, 10 for me cause I skipped a year in undergrad. But it could be up to 16, depending on how long my residency would go.”

“And you’re gonna do it all through JCU?”

“Yeah, that’s the plan right now,” she mumbled, eyes still focused out the window. 

“Hey,” he got her attention, waiting for her to turn to him. “You’re gonna be an amazing doctor someday. You’re gonna help so many people. Just having you in the room, doing the little things for people, that’s gonna mean more to those people than you even realize. They’re gonna be really lucky to have you.”

The sentiment seemed to arise out of nowhere, but she still blushed at his kind words. “The little things are actually more the nurses, but thank you.” 

He let her watch the trees for the rest of the drive, and she was so focused on them that she barely noticed Ethan already on the roof when they pulled in. 

He had a bright orange shovel in his hands, the scoop full of snow that he began to swing back and forth once they stepped out of the car, shoes crunching the snow below them.

“Don’t you dare!” Indy called, but it was too late. The snow was already flying and she squealed, grabbing Grayson and pulling him out of the way while it rained down right where they had been standing.

A moment later and Lisa was outside, hands on her hip with the menacing energy only a mom could produce.

“Ethan Grant! That’s how you fall and bust your fucking head open! Knock it off!”

Grayson bit back a laugh when Ethan kicked a tiny bit more snow off the edge so it sprinkled down by Lisa.

“Will you get up there before he falls off please?” She turned to Grayson, exasperated. “Indy, come in, it’s cold.”

It was Indiana’s turn to laugh when Lisa hooked their arms together and led her into the house, leaving Grayson out in the snow. He grabbed the lights that Ethan had already gotten out, looping his arm through before he headed up the ladder at the lowest point of the roof. 

“I’ve already done the other side of the house, so I’m just here for moral support and to save your ass if I need to, my job is done,” Ethan explained, moving over to a spot by the chimney to sit down. 

“Oh yeah, you shoveled on a downhill slope, the horror,” Grayson muttered, but in all honesty he would rather do the lights himself anyways. 

They talked about the tiny homes and the final touches they needed while Grayson moved around the roof carefully, trying to counteract his balance when he got closer to the edge, cursing his mom silently for having roofs so high that they couldn’t do it from the top of a ladder. 

The front of the house went without incident, and Ethan begrudgingly helped by holding the extra lights while Gray strung them. But when Ethan went down the ladder to get the next strand to connect, he took a minute too long to come back up. Grayson tried to use what little patience he was born with, but it fizzled out quickly, making him stomp across the roof to the edge.

“Yo, what the fucks taking so long?”

“Gray.”

“Can you not find them or what?”

“Grayson.”

He didn’t like the tone of his brother’s voice.

“What? What happened?”

“Come down here.”

Grayson took the ladder so quickly that his feet almost slipped, but he was at his brother’s side in a moment, taking his phone that he had outstretched.

His stomach dropped into the snow under his feet as he began to scroll with a numb thumb. There were pictures. So many pictures, and Indy was in every single one of them. Tweet after tweet with different screenshots of the two of them - looking at the tree, ice skating, sitting in Jets, even walking down the street. He pieced it together, realized that the reason the girls had looked familiar was because they’d followed them. 

“Fuck. Fuck.”

Bile rose in his throat when he found a video, zoomed in as far as it would go with surprising quality as he pushed Indy along on the ice, towards the middle of the rink. He watched her squeeze his hands and laugh, watched himself turn her around so they could get their picture, watched himself kiss her cheek and her lips. 

He didn’t want to read, but he couldn’t help himself. There were a few familiar handles that talked about how happy they were for him, but the majority of it was exactly what he expected. 

So much for ‘working on himself’ he’s back on the constant girlfriend trend

Didn’t think she was his type but okayyyyy I guess 🥴

When we said we didn’t want Grayson to end up with an LA girl, we didn’t mean ~that~

Her insta is indiana.jamie, i’ve never even heard of her

The worst was a two set of images from Jet’s, where her face was in plain view. The second one had edited lighting, and was zoomed in on his pocket, with the text above it.

Look I know I sound crazy but WTF IS IN HIS POCKET? IS THAT A RING BOX? GRAY BABY NOOOOOOO

“Fuck.” He couldn’t find another word, and Ethan was no help. A call from Adele came in on his phone, and E looked at him for approval. He just nodded and let him answer, turning away and heading into the house, not even bothering to clean his boots.

“Dee! Indiana!”

“In here!” She called back and he jogged into the living room, not realizing he was breathless until he got there and saw that the tree had been assembled. She had an ornament in her hand when he ran in and she put it on the tree quickly, her stomach tightening at the look on his face.

“What happened? Are you okay?”

“Where’s your phone, have you looked at your phone?”

“It’s over there, it’s just been playing music. Baby what’s wrong?”

He ran over to it, muttering out a ‘shit’ when the screen lit up, both at the flood of notifications and the fact that her lockscreen had changed to their picture from the ice. 

“Woah.” She took her phone from him, unlocking it and heading after all the notifications on instagram. “Holy shit. I got 3,500 new followers, what the fuck?” 

“Indy, I’m so fucking sorry. I’m so sorry.”

She closed her phone and looked at him, putting a hand on his shoulder. “For what?”

“I should have thought about it, there’s not usually paps in New York, I didn’t even think about fans, and now everyone’s tweeting a bunch of bullshit about you, I’m just, fuck, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

“Slow down,” she murmured, hand moving to his face. She saw Lisa leave the room out of the corner of her eye, but she kept looking at Grayson. “It’s okay. We knew this was going to happen.”

“They saw the ring box in my pocket in some of the pictures, they probably think we’re fucking engaged, and they’re gonna be relentless. Every time you get online you’re gonna see some bullshit about you because of me.”

“Gray, it’s alright. It’s okay, I can handle it.”

“No, you can’t, nobody can, it’s gonna get to you. If you say it doesn’t effect you, you’re fucking lying.” He ran his hands through his hair and then down over his face, sucking in a breath that Indiana recognized. 

“Gray, don’t cry. Look, look.” She unlocked her phone again, exited instagram and held down until it shook, deleting it quickly from her phone. “I don’t even post much anyways. And I don’t have a twitter, I’m not gonna see what they say about me. I don’t care, I promise you I don’t.” 

Her gut told her a different story. Though it wasn’t her favorite quality of herself, Indy liked to be liked. It was natural, but she sought validation from other people more than she wanted to, and it made her dangerously curious to see what had caused such a visceral reaction in her boyfriend.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, dropping his head. She got up on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“It’s okay. We’re okay. It’s not your fault.”

And for the first time in his almost three months of knowing Indiana, he didn’t believe her.

[plaidbooks]

Dating Pains

A/N: So! I was looking through some old files and found this Sonny Carisi x reader story I wrote in September that I had completely forgotten about! After reading through it, I figured “this is actually pretty good, I can post that” so here’s part one of four(?).

Tags: mentions of rape, mentions of murder, attempted drugging

Words: 3026

Taglist: @the-baby-bookworm @beccabarba @thatesqcrush @itsjustmyfantasyroom @stardust-fray @permanentlydizzy @infiniteoddball @ben-c-group-therapy @glowingmess @whimsicallymad @reading--mermaid @averyhotchner @mrsrafaelbarba @detective-giggles

You puckered your lips, painting them with the bright red lipstick that you loved. You smacked your lips a couple times, smiling at your own reflection. You were in comfortable jeans that hugged your ass perfectly, and a loose shirt, the sleeves draped around your upper arms rather than your shoulders, bright red and orange flowers on the black material. Your makeup was simple, neutral, except for the lipstick—but you couldn’t help yourself, you loved the color.

It was a first date, and you didn’t want to over-do it by over-dressing. Besides, it was a first date with this guy, and you were running out of cute, clean clothes. But it was your third “first date” in two weeks; your friends had set up a Tinder account for you and had been forcing you to go out on these dates. At first, you were reluctant, unwilling to stoop so low as to use an app to find love. But, after about a month of trying it the “old fashioned way,”—you at bars and clubs, striking out over and over again—you gave in to their insistence. Though, most of the guys on Tinder only wanted hookups, and you wanted something, well, more. You were looking for love, as cliché as that was, and that was something your friends loved to tease you about.

“You can wait around and find love whenever, but why pass up a chance to get laid?” one of your friends asked. You had blushed and tried to fumble through an excuse about why you didn’t want a hookup, why you wanted a real relationship. It wasn’t like you were necessarily against having a one-night stand, but it just wasn’t what you were looking for.

It took weeks and a lot of weeding through shitty profiles and messages until you found at least someone that seemed interesting. Your first date was alright; he seemed nice, polite but there just wasn’t a connection there. You both agreed that there shouldn’t be a second date. The second man was a real estate agent. He was once divorced, from his high school sweetheart, lived on Staten Island, had finished paying off his college debt, and was debating going back for a BS in Computer Science since that’s where the real money was. You knew all about his family life, too, because never once did he stop talking about himself. When he asked for a second date, you politely declined. Then again, and again, until you finally had to block him. If you didn’t already have this third “first date” set up, you would’ve given up on Tinder entirely.

Looking yourself over once more, you headed out the door and towards the bar that you were meeting the man at, nervous butterflies fluttering in your stomach. You had made sure you took screenshots of the man’s profile and messages, sent a picture of his profile picture to your friends, and told them where you were going. You were positive that serial killers didn’t use Tinder, but it was always better to be safe.

You made it to the bar and scanned the faces in the cramped space. Your date, Jerry, had said that he would be wearing a navy-blue polo shirt and black slacks, not that the dim lighting in the bar would help you tell the difference between the two colors. Your eyes did a full scan, not seeing anyone that looked familiar; maybe he was running late? Sure enough, you felt your phone vibrate, a message from Jerry saying that he was running behind and would be there in 5 minutes. Shrugging to yourself, you made your way to the bar, ordering a sprite and finding an open table. Being late wasn’t a deal-breaker for you, and at least he had messaged you.

You let your eyes wander through the crowd, people watching, and, if you were being honest with yourself, looking for anyone that looked attractive and hopefully alone…just in case this Jerry-guy didn’t work out. There were a couple of cute guys in the bar, but all of them seemed to be with someone, whether friends or with a girlfriend. Your eyes did settle on one man, though; he was tall, even when sitting, his hair carefully slicked back. In the dim bar lighting, it was impossible to tell if his hair was grey, blonde, or a light brown. He was in a blue, button-up shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, a black striped tie, and a suit jacket was on the back of his chair. He had a beer in his hand, his long fingers wrapped around the dark bottle, with his head thrown back in laughter at something that one of the two women he was with said. One of the women was older, with long brown hair, who exuded command, even though she was also chuckling. The other woman was younger, closer to your age, with blonde hair that was tied back, beer in her hand and obviously the one cracking the jokes.

You looked away as you saw someone approaching your table out of the corner of your eye, smiling as you saw that it was Jerry—at least he matched his profile picture. You stood, giving him a polite hug, before you both sat. A waitress came up and took Jerry’s order, in which he also insisted you got a drink, too, to help loosen you both up. Not wanting to appear rude, you agreed; one drink wouldn’t make you drunk.

It took you about 5 minutes to realize that Jerry was the same, if not worse, than your last date was. He was incredibly full of himself, talking about how women just “didn’t get him” and how he was only on Tinder because he was “too busy” to actually go out and meet people. You were about to excuse yourself to the bathroom, planning to have a friend come save you, when he got up himself to go. While he was gone, you seriously contemplated leaving, but you couldn’t—you weren’t that mean. But you did instantly forget about texting a friend for help. Instead, your eyes travelled back over to the cute man with the slicked-back hair. You were shocked when you saw his bright blue eyes watching you. He quickly turned away, as did you, your cheeks flushing hot. You were too afraid to look back over, your face still feeling warm…warmer than a normal blush. You were looking hard at the table in front of you when you noticed that it was moving. Confused, you put your hand out to rest on it; it definitely wasn’t moving, but now the room looked like it was moving, shifting, and you felt like your skin was on fire now.

You stood suddenly, and almost went right back down. There was no way you were drunk, so what the hell was happening? You took a couple of stuttering steps before you felt hands on you, an arm wrapping around your waist, a hand on your shoulder, helping you up.

“You okay, honey?” Jerry asked, his fake, honey-covered voice concerned.

Your mouth moved, but you couldn’t form words. It was becoming hard to keep your eyes open, and you felt sweat forming on your forehead. You vaguely noticed him guiding you towards the door, out of the bar. Suddenly, a shadow was looming over you. You looked up, squinting at the figure above you. All you saw was slicked-back hair, and bright blue eyes, full of concern and a quiet rage.

“Sorry, man. My girlfriend just had a few too many,” Jerry was saying, trying to laugh it off. Something clicked in your sluggish brain. This is wrong, you thought, but your body wasn’t reacting to your mind. Without knowing what you were doing, you reached towards the tall, lanky man in front of you, who was now speaking harshly to Jerry. But you couldn’t understand the words. Your mind was fading fast, darkness coming to meet you.

You gathered all the strength you had left, and whispered into the loud, over-packed bar, “help me,” before the darkness overtook you.

 **********************

You woke up in a soft bed, sheets pulled up to your chest, the soft whirring of machinery around you. You squinted against the harsh light as you opened your eyes, the fluorescent lights blinding you slightly. You groaned and pushed yourself up, your head pounding and your throat dry. You froze; you were obviously in the hospital, but you had no memory of getting there, or why you were there in the first place. You took mental stock of your body; besides a splitting headache, you felt fine. So why were you there?

“Oh, you’re awake! How are you feeling?” a soft voice asked. You looked over and saw a nurse coming into your room, clipboard in hand. She didn’t wait for you to answer as she started playing with the machinery you were hooked up to.

“I-I’m alright,” you rasped, throat completely dry. She wordlessly poured you a glass of water on your side table and handed it to you. You gratefully took a sip, wetting your throat. “Head hurts, though.”

The nurse nodded as she took the glass back. “That’s normal.”

You cocked an eyebrow in confusion. “Normal for what? Why am I here?”

The nurse seemed surprised for a moment before she realized. “Oh, of course you don’t remember. You were drugged last night; roofied.” Your heart sunk. You were roofied? How? You never left your drink unattended; how did someone sneak it in? And does that mean…? The nurse had continued talking, but you tuned out, mind and heart racing. She concluded with a little cup of pills for you to take, and now your heart really sunk. You knew that doctors gave women the morning after pill, as well as anti-STD pills after being assaulted. So, that must have happened to you, too, right? And you remembered none of it. Was it better that way?

“Are you alright, Ms. [Y/L/N]?” the nurse asked, looking at how you regarded the cup of pills. “It’s just eletriptan…for your headache?”

“Just—just headache pills?” you asked. The nurse smiled, nodding.

“Yes, just headache pills.” As she was heading out the door, she added, “oh! There were two SVU detectives here to see you. Can I let them in?”

Confused as to why two detectives wanted to talk to you, you nodded absentmindedly, taking the pills and downing them with a gulp of water. You had only a moment to think about it—SVU? Were you a Special Victim, even if you weren’t assaulted?—before they entered. The first detective that came in looked vaguely familiar; a young woman with her blonde hair tied back in a ponytail. The second detective, though, made you pause. You had definitely seen him before, but you couldn’t place him. Tall, lanky, slicked-back, dirty blonde hair, and bright blue eyes that pierced into yours with some sort of…guilt? Pity? It was hard to tell what was there.

“Have we met before?” you blurted, unable to stop yourself. The expression in the man’s face intensified for the briefest moment before it was replaced with a cool professionalism.

“Uh, kinda,” the woman replied. “I’m Detective Rollins, and this is Detective Carisi. We met at the bar last night.” You thought about this, trying to will your still-aching mind to remember the events from the past night, but there was nothing there.

“Do you happen to remember anything from last night?” Carisi asked. “I mean, if you remember meeting us, maybe you remember more?”

You tried to go back through what you did remember from yesterday; getting lunch with friends, getting dressed for a date, putting on your favorite lipstick, then…nothing. Flashes of music and lights from the bar, but nothing more.

“I…don’t really remember much…. Do—do you know what happened to me? I—I remember leaving my house to meet a date, but then it’s all fuzzy—” you scrunched your eyes closed, trying to force your mind to work correctly.

“Hey, don’t hurt yourself. It’s normal to not remember after being roofied,” Rollins explained. “It may come back to you in the next couple days, and it may not. Do you remember who you were going on a date with?”

You sat for a moment before you remembered. “Oh! Where’s my phone? It was some dude on Tinder—I saved screenshots of his profile.” You found your purse on the side table next to you and dug until you found your phone. You ignored the texts and missed calls from your friends, probably freaking out since you haven’t contacted them yet, and pulled up the pictures. “I went on a date with Jerry last night,” you said, showing the pictures to the detectives.

“This is perfect, definitely enough for a warrant,” Carisi replied, smirking and giving you an impressed glance. You felt the blush crossing your cheeks and fidgeted uncomfortably. “Can you text me those pictures?”

You agreed and he gave you his number. You tried to ignore the fact that you now had his personal cell phone number as you sent the photos to him, your stomach flip-flopping.

“Is it alright if we talk to you in a couple days? See if you remember anything?” Rollins asked, already making her way to the door.

“Uh, yeah, sure,” you said, watching them leave. Carisi gave you a small smile before he made it to the door. “Wait!” you called out, making him stop. Carisi stood in the doorway, brow furrowed as he looked at you. “Can you please tell me what the hell happened last night? Even if you only found me somewhere—I just, I need to know something. Was I…was I attacked--?”

Carisi’s eyes filled with a sadness; he was obviously upset that you couldn’t remember anything. He turned to look out the door. “You go on to Barba’s, get the warrant. I’ll meet up with you,” he said to his partner before coming back into the room. He pulled over the visitor chair and sat down next to your bed.

“I’ll tell you all I know; I was at the bar with my Lieutenant and Rollins after work when I looked over and saw you sitting there with Jerry. Now, Jerry looked like a suspect from a case I was working a couple months back. So, I was keeping an eye on ya, just in case.” He paused for a moment, looking slightly embarrassed that he admitted watching you, but all you were feeling right now was appreciation that someone had your back. Thank god he was there, had noticed something. “When you stood up, I knew something was wrong; you were swaying and looking like you were about to pass out. I told my Lieu, and we were coming over to make sure you were alright when Jerry came back. He was trying to tell us you were drunk, and he was going take you home. Right then, you collapsed, asking for help. My Lieu arrested Jerry right there, and Rollins and I brought ya here. But we couldn’t hold him, and we couldn’t prove he was the one to drug you. But, with your screenshots, hopefully we can check his place, find roofies in his possession.”

You sat there, dumbfounded with how incredibly lucky you had been that three NYPD detectives were there when you were drugged, and how bad it could’ve ended for you if they weren’t.

“Thank you, so much, Detective Carisi,” you managed, trying to think of something else to say.

“Please, call me Sonny,” he replied, smiling. You felt yourself melting at that smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling, though, concern was still deep in his expression. Then, a thought struck you.

“That case you were working on a month ago, that Jerry matched the description for. What did he do?”

Sonny suddenly seemed uncomfortable, unwilling to talk, considering how lengthy of a description he just gave you from the previous night. That wasn’t a good sign.

“We, uh, we were investigatin’ a man who would roofie a woman, then rape her and leave her…dead body in her own bed. The only connection he had to the victims were that they used Tinder. But he would delete his account before we could find it. All we had was security footage and some eyewitness accounts of the man.”

Your heart started beating faster at the words “dead body.” If Jerry was indeed this man, then you almost died last night. You didn’t quite know how to process that.

You were staring at the bright white of your bedsheets when you heard Sonny ask, “[Y/N], are you alright?” He dipped his head down, trying to get in your line of sight. You snapped out of your thoughts, looking up to him.

“I—yeah, I just…I almost died?” your throat constricted on the last word. You felt hot tears in your eyes, and you blinked fast, trying to not let them fall. You really didn’t want to cry in front of this man, and not just because he was cute; you didn’t want to have a full breakdown in front of someone you didn’t know.

“Hey, it’s okay, you’re safe now. ‘Sides, we don’t know for sure if Jerry’s our guy, or just some predator. Either way, we’ll get him, I promise you.” Sonny gave you another heart melting smile, before he stood up. “You have my number if ya need to talk, okay? Don’t be afraid to shoot me a text.”

You smiled as he left, shutting the door softly behind him. You already wanted to text him, but to ask him out to coffee, not to help you through your shock. But you also didn’t think that that was very appropriate, asking an SVU detective out after he saved you from being assaulted. Besides, your mind was reeling from the past 24 hours. First thing’s first, better text all your friends and let them know you were alive and unharmed. And then you were definitely deleting Tinder.

[normatural]

JJ MAYBANK | MR.16

Summary: helping your friends with the delivers could be funnier than you thought.

Warnings: creepy rose cameron, language.

A/N: I just saw that video of a girl auditioning for a scene between Rose Cameron and JJ and thought it would be fun.. but for real, that scene was cringe asf. I'll proofread later, just needed to write something.

- also thank you sooo much for all the love and support on my last one shot, love you guys! you have no idea how happy it makes me <3

...

All your thursday mornings on summer were reserved to go with Pope to figure 8 with his father's boat and help him with an extra pair of hands with the deliveries. You knew that his scholarship's interview was close and that finishing his shift earlier meant more time to study and prepare himself for the big day so you didn't even think twice before jumping in. Sometimes you'd even cover for him, almost threatning to throw him out of the boat if he said "you don't have to, really Y/N" twice.

Pope never asked for the help, to be honest you were the one who insisted on it and he had no other choice but, glady, accept.

If the boy had any chance to get a brighter future, something that he work his ass off for, then you'd do anything in your power to help your friend have a better life.

"Yo, I got this one, princess." JJ winked at you, taking the bags from your hands.

If you didn't know the boy enough you'd say he was being a gentleman, letting you rest after you took the two last delivers. But you knew him and that meant you also knew that he just wanted to try his luck with the tips.

You glanced at the name written on the bag again and then at JJ.

He knew he was about to walk straight to the lion's cage. I mean, Cameron's huge ass house, right?

JJ mumbled something among the line of 'it's okay' before jumping out of the boat, walking towards his least favorite place.

You and Pope looked at each other and shrugged, but you wouldn't complain. The sun was hotter than usual today and why not take off your shirt to work on your tan, feel the sun kiss your skin and relax while you chat with Pope?

Sometimes your conversations with Pope would let the rest of the group a little bit worrid. You could spend hours talking about dead bodies, what killers could do to properly hide a body snd things like that.

You got up from where you were laying on the floor and looked around. It's been a while since JJ was gone and yet, there was no sign of him, which messed with your nerves.

What if something happed to him?

Nothing good came from JJ taking to long to come by when you were on Figure 8.. or anywhere in the island actually.

What if he bumped into Raffe and his minions on hus way to the house?

"Took you long enough" Pope laughed when you jumped out of the boat to look after the blonde.

To be honest, he thought you'd have done that five minutes ago, which let him surprised. You were always worried about JJ and the others would tease the hell out of you for that.

You slowed your steps when you caught a glimpse of his blonde hair on the Cameron's porche, talking to someone as he scratched his neck.

Carefully you made your way closer to them, trying to don't get caught because your curiosity has gotten the best of you. What the hell he had to talk for more than three seconds with a kook, a Cameron kook, without being tied down or something?

"What do I own you, Mr.Sixteen?" you jaw almost went to the floor when you heard the voice of none other than Rose Cameron.

You'd have thought that you were crazy if you hadn't took a step foward, hiding in one of the fancy bunches before the front door to see the way he basically undressed him with her eyes.

What. The. Fuck?!

"It's just the cost.. plus a 100 for delivery" JJ pushed his arms with the bags foward, his leg bouncing and you knew that the woman caught him off of guard.

You bite you lips, doing your best to don't laugh when she rolled her eyes, ignoring the bags and how JJ tried to look away from her, without sucess.

"I know about that. I asked you what do I owed you for your effort."

You had to put you hand on your mouth. It you kept holding you laugher you were sure you'd end up with a broken rib or something.

"You mean a tip on top of the delivery fee? That's okay, miss Cameron. You don't own me anything"

JJ, your best friend JJ, just declined a tip from the kook queen herself?

You frowned, you laughter long forgot when you saw Rose's finger touch his shoulders and go all the way down his arms.

Okay. That was it. Enough of that shit.

You came out of the brush, jogging to the porsh again as if you had arrived only now. JJ looked to the side and found you, his eyes widening in surprise and relief as you saw his shoulders relax a bit.

"Baby, what is taking you so long? Mr. Heyward is going to kill us if we.. Oh, hey Mrs. Cameron." you forced a smile at the woman, putting an arm around JJ when she arched a brow at you, probably surprise with the boy having a girlfriend.

"I was just.. waiting for Miss Cameron to open the door." He forced a smile to you, trying to hide the blush creeping to his cheeks before looking at the woman, pushing his arms with the bags one more time. "Here, ma'am."

Rose took a deep breath and called one of the maids to get the deliver, giving the most fake smile you have ever seen to the both of you.

"I didn't know you had a boyfriend, Y/N" she stared a few seconds to JJ before turning to you and you had to use all your control to don't roll your eyes.

You only delivered things to her once in a week, of course she didn't know about your life.

"Only a idiot to say no to this hot stuff right here." you intertwined your finger with his, getting on your tip toes to leave a kiss on his cheek. "Right, baby?"

You were pretty sure by now that the boy was petrified and you tried not to laugh.

He blinked a few times as if you had pulled him out of a daze and nodded.

"Yeah, uh, right. Bye, Miss Cameron." he tried his best to don't run away and dragged out of the house once he got the money.

You made sure you were away from the door when you started laughing, falling on the floor.

"What do I owe you, Mr. Sixteen?" you mimicked her voice, tried to use the same 'sensual' aka cringe tone she used and pucked your lips to JJ.

If he weren't red when you arrived, he was 50 shades of flustered right now, knowing that you actually heard everything.

"Fuck off!" he groaned, only noticing that your fingers were interwined when he pulled his hand away to push you, which only made you laugh harder.

"Bro, she was aaall over you and you were like on run away mode." you put your hand on your belly, it already aching from the lack of air. "I'm gonna.. die!"

JJ put his hands on your shoulders once you got close to the boat, stopping in front of you and making you look at him. His eyes were hard but you could see the pleading in it.

"Don't say a word." he said slowly as it'd make it easier for you to understand or make you obey.

You nodded and bit you lip, pretending to zip your mouth and throw it away. JJ stared at you a little longer and you held his gaze, his hands slowly pulling away from you, probably making sure you'd keep your word and don't start acting all annoying again.

Almost reaching the boat you called him and he turned around, brows furrowed.

"I don't even get a 'thank you, baby'? Gosh, you are a terrible boyfriend." you brought your hands to your chest, pretending to be hurt when he showed you his middle finger and got on the boat.

Pope had went to the other deliver and it was JJ's time to be alone with you. He tried his best to drink his beer and ignore your funny gaze and smirk to him.

That's when you remembered something.

Mr. Heyward didn't charged a hundred bucks for deliver.

"You son of a bitch!" you gasped, throwing you watter bottle and JJ. "That's how you get your tips?!"

It was his time to laugh and wink at you.

"They love me, Y/N. What can I do? It's a gift." He shrugged, a cocky smile dancing on his lips before he took another sip of his beer.

+

Taglist: @maebanks @obxwriterfan @jayjaymaebank @drizzlethatfalls @sarahsmaybank

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• masterlist •

[crystxlclear]

sudden desire

chapter two: coffee times ten

part three of sudden desire

prologue / one / masterlist

in which two best friends won’t admit they’re in love so decide to have a baby together instead.

pairing: marcus pike x original female character

summary: coffee, coffee and more coffee. coraline ropes marcus into babysitting duties.

word count: 4.4k

warnings: the slightest smidge of angst? boyfriend material marcus (needs his own warning because he’s soft af), mentions of divorce? mentions of pregnancy? two idiots being domestic af without realising it. honestly i’m just pulling these warnings out of my ass idk what counts anymore

author’s note: sorry if there’s any errors, i’m honestly the world’s worst proofreader (last time i went to post this, there were still passages from when this wasn’t fanfiction and marcus was an actor like cora, cause that would have made total sense!) but also i get super hypercritical so it’s best if i just don’t read and reread my work oops... anyway, enjoy!

Monday morning comes and she’s wearing the dress that he likes. It's the yellow one she wore the day they met, the reason he calls her sunshine, and she smiles as she sweeps effortlessly into the coffee shop. Coraline pushes the sunglasses she's wearing up onto her head and greets him with a hug and a small 'hello' muffled against his shoulder. 

It's only January but the sun still seeps in too brightly through the shop's thatched windows; it casts her in a halo of gold as she sits in the armchair across from him. Even despite the warmth pooling in the air, he can tell she's still cold, from the way her shoulders shrink inwards and she wraps her arms around herself. If she is cold, she doesn't let him know, just takes a moment to run her hands up her arms before wrapping them around the mug of coffee he'd ordered her. He'd told her to go see someone about it — constant chills aren't exactly normal — but she'd refused, brushing off his concern with a simple shrug of her shoulders and an insistence that she'd be fine. She'd also pointed out that it was, in fact, January and it was meant to be cold, even if it wasn't. It still hasn't stopped him from worrying, though. 

"You left early last night." He points out. Last night, some high-end gallery opening in downtown D.C., too many cameras and far too many people. He’d invited her as his plus one, purely platonically, of course, and because he knew she was the only friend he had that liked art just as much as he did, though she hadn't wanted to go. He hadn't blamed her, especially when they’d got there; Coraline's ex, Scott, and his new girlfriend had shown up, apparently friends with the gallery owner, their hands a little too wandering. If his ex and their new partner showed up, flouting their relationship in front of him, he'd be pretty upset and reluctant to go, too. He’d managed to persuade her to come the night before, albeit through incessant nagging, so much so that he thinks she probably only relented to shut him up. Though, looking back at it now, he wishes they had just stayed at home.

Coraline hums into her coffee cup. Her brown hair still falls in loose, half-styled curls around her face; she tucks a little behind her ear. "I was tired. My bed was calling," she insists with a bright smile. 

He doesn't entirely believe her, even though she's a pretty great actress and, consequently, just as good at hiding how she really feels. Because he knows she saw them last night. It was hard not to; a cramped room like that gave you no place to hide, and they weren't exactly being subtle. He saw the way she'd shuffle uncomfortably then their laughter would filter through the quiet space, soft but still piercing. Marcus was convinced that they were doing it on purpose, especially when he caught Scott stealing glances from across the room whenever he thought no one was looking. He was trying to get a reaction and, being as graceful as she was, she hadn't given him that, even if she had spent the entire night with her brows furrowed and wearing a smile he could tell was fake.

He watches her curiously; the way she sips her coffee slowly, how her hair curls softly against her neck, the gentle curve of her pink lips that seems permenant around him. But he’s never been the most subtle, at least, not around her. She notices him staring, gaze lingering for far too long over the gentle contours of her face, and their eyes meet for a second; they're immediately lit by another even brighter smile that pulls across her glossed lips. "What?" She questions. Her cheeks always flush pink whenever he looks at her for longer than a moment. 

He shakes his head, returning her smile, perhaps a little too enthusiastically when his teeth peak through a little. "Nothing, I just-" I just want you to be happy, he thinks. But he doesn't say it, because she must know that already, and just shakes his head. "Nothing." He repeats. 

"You're staring."

"I am not."

"Yes, you are." She chuckles, poking his leg with the toe of her boot. “Why are you staring?”

"Cora, I'm not staring."

He is staring. He can't help it. Especially when she smiles. 

She regards him for a second. Sometimes, he wonders if she can read his mind, given the way her eyes trace over his face like she's reading a book. Truthfully, he wouldn’t mind if she did read his mind. "I'm fine." She answers the unspoken question lingering thick in the air. The real reason he's looking at her like he is. A laugh lilts at the edges of her insistence and he can tell that she's lying; there's a furrow pulling at her eyebrows that gives her away. He’s learned to look for it. "Why wouldn't I be?" She knows exactly why. But it seems like that's all they talk about, how she is. And she doesn't want to anymore. She's fine. 

Because your ex-husband spent the entire night trying to make you jealous, he wants to say. But he doesn't. He leaves it alone.

Marcus leant back in his chair. He doesn't push it. "No reason." 

Coraline peers at him over the top of her coffee cup — it's almost too big for her hands — but she doesn't press it further, even if she does raise her eyebrows a little. Or, at least, she doesn't get a chance too, because someone is calling out to her from across the coffee shop. "No reason." She repeats with a soft hum. 

She peels her eyes away from Marcus, almost like it's some great hardship to stop looking at him, and turns her smile towards whoever had called her name. He recognises her as Loren Hull, Coraline's childhood best friend, struggling to push through the door with a stroller, even as someone holds the door open for her and another helps her inside. 

Coraline watches with amusement as Loren teeters towards them. "How are you?" She asks as she hugs her. Her attention switches towards the gurgling baby in the stroller; she was chewing on a toy, far too preoccupied to pay attention to anything that was going on around her. That was until she catches sight of Coraline and cries out with glee. "And how's my favourite goddaughter?" She coos. 

Loren huffs out a groan. Her blonde hair is tied haphazardly on top of her head, curls spilling out at either side, falling into her face. There are dark circles beneath her green eyes. "She's great-" She grins down at her daughter for a moment before her head throws back. "But I'm exhausted." She's talking far too fast, the words falling from her mouth, in the same way, an almost nonsensical rambling might. It's almost like she thinks that, if she doesn't talk fast, she'll never be able to get the words out. "I can't stay long- oh, hey, Marcus-" It's like in her hurry and she hasn't noticed he's there until now. He doesn't blame her; Coraline has mentioned that she's still getting to grips with being a single mom. "-but I need coffee otherwise I'm going to pass out."

Coraline is grinning down at Loren's daughter, Maisie, whispering soft 'hello's at her, completely distracted by the baby who seemed just as captivated. The baby giggles and reaches for Cora's fingers, kicking her legs excitedly under the pink blanket. "I could look after her tonight if you need some rest." Her eyes don't leave Maisie, who's tiny fingers wrap tightly around Coraline's pointer finger. Half of him wonders if she'd actually meant to offer her help or if the whispers had come out before she had chance to think them through. 

"You could?" Loren's face lights up with relief. 

"Of course!" Cora's eyes come to rest on Marcus. "Would you mind?" 

"Not at all." He shoots her a smile. They're meant to be seeing a movie. It's some horror film he's never heard of; he isn't a massive fan of horror but Coraline had wanted to see it — it had something to do with her and her father watching horror films together when she was younger, even if they were terrible and laughably cheesy — and had managed to persuade him the night before at the gala, when they were both a little too tipsy and he was trying his best to distract her as Scott's lips dragged over his new girlfriend's neck. He'd glanced up every now and then, just to see if she was watching them. Luckily, she never was. 

"Oh, you're a lifesaver." Loren exhales, like she's been underwater for months and her head has only just poked above the surface. "Both of you." She turns to Marcus and flashes him a bright but exhausted smile. 

"What are best friend's for?" Cora chuckles as Loren pulls away to order her drink. "Drop her off later."

"I'll be by at seven," she announces as she grabs her drink, backing the stroller out of the coffee shop with decidedly more grace than when she'd entered. Patrons part the way for her and she murmurs a 'sorry' at everyone she passes or accidentally whacks with her nappy bag. 

Coraline's eyes linger on the baby for a few moments longer as they leave; her expression flickers, softening, like she's considering something, like she's plagued by conflict. Coraline taps her fingers on the table, perfect pale pink nails rapping a steady beat against the wood. Eventually, her eyebrows furrow and she draws back into herself, like realisation has hit and she's snapped herself back to reality. 

"Are you sure you don't mind? You can find something else to do, you don't have to become a pro bono babysitter with me." She wants him to help her out. She really does. She tries not to let the hopeful glint reach her eyes.

But she feels especially bad because Marcus rarely has days off. It's a rare Sunday when he's in between cases and hasn’t been dragged in on a weekend. And she's dragging him along to look after a baby he's never even met before. 

He shakes his head. "Why would I mind?" He gets to spend time with her. He enjoys her company too much to turn her down.

She shrugs and takes another sip of her drink. He can tell by the way that she scowls that it's gone a little cold. He doesn't know how she drinks it, anyway. There's too much caramel — it was far too sweet — but she seemed to like it and he'd seen her tired self go through three in an hour before. "Changing diapers isn't exactly a thrilling pastime."

"I'm sure I'll live."

Coraline pushes herself to her feet. A breeze ruffles the skirt of her dress, billowing the pale yellow fabric against her knees like it had a mind of its own. She finishes off the last drops of her drink and sighs. "Well, then, we’re going to need some more coffee."

...

Coraline has been rushing around her apartment for most of the day. She isn't sure if she's nervous or if she just has too much caffeine buzzing through her veins. Perhaps it's both. She's not even aware of her surroundings, only that Marcus has been sitting on the couch trying to get her to relax for the past hour and she's fussed meticulously over every square inch of her apartment at least three times. She just needs to keep her hands busy. 

"Cora, she's a baby." He chuckles as Coraline scowls at the magazines on the coffee table. She bends down to straighten them, huffing out an inpatient breath as she does so. "She's not going to care what your apartment looks like."

She ignores him, turning swiftly on her heels to straighten out the woollen throw draping over her couch. "Relax," Marcus insists. He watches her with concern as she pauses, sucks in a shallow breath and turns to slump down against the opposite end of the couch. Her head falls back against the cushions. "What's wrong?"

"It's just-" She doesn't even know what she means to say. She doesn't really have an explanation for it — why she's frantically rushing around her apartment trying to keep her mind off Maisie and the babysitting job she'd found herself — so she doesn't bother offering one. Maybe it's because all she can think about is how much she'd wanted a baby when she was with Scott and how she has no idea what she wants anymore, now that he's gone and she's alone again. Everything's so confusing now; she can barely bring herself to think about it. It just doesn't make sense. Coraline tells Marcus a lot of things (he probably knows more about her than Loren does, and they'd been best friends since they were six) but some things just weren't for sharing. Maybe he already knows. She hopes he does, it would make things much easier, and then she doesn’t have to bite back pointless tears when she eventually tells him. 

Coraline lets out an overly-dramatic sigh and turns her head towards Marcus. He's still watching her, brown eyes softer now. He smiles and she shakes her head to clear away the thoughts. "I'm glad you're here, you know," she admits. Her eyes drag back up to the ceiling. 

"Of course you are. You'd never survive without me." He quips. 

"Oh, sure. How I ever managed to live twenty-eight years without you, I'll never know."

Marcus' eyes crease at the corner as he laughs a little at his joke. "I know you'll be good at this whole baby thing." She lulls her head to the side to watch him; she shuffles against her hip, resting her cheek against the dimpled green couch cushion and watches him as his dark eyes light up. In the time that she's known him, barely even six months, though it seems like far longer, she can only think of a handful of times when she'd seen him without a smile. Even then, most of those were after a long day of paperwork, and she could usually make him smile after a few minutes of prodding at him to tell her what's wrong. 

"I have work early tomorrow." Coraline points out. "This was a bad idea. I should be sleeping."

"Well, you did offer.”

"I know, and it was a terrible idea." She sighs. "Y’know, I think Maisie hates me."

"Maisie is a baby, Cora."

"Babies still have feelings, Marcus."

He chuckles. "She loves you, don't be ridiculous."

His words are punctuated by a knock on the door. It's almost frantic, like whoever's on the other side's intentions are urgent. Coraline groans a little as she stands up; she knows exactly who it is and she drags her feet towards the door, trying her best to push past her concern. She lowers her head to the door's peephole before yanking it open. She has a wide grin on her face when she greets Loren and Maisie. "Good evening." Her voice is lilting, soft and bright and cheerful, like Marcus is used to hearing. It makes him smile, the way she's gone from a worry that seemed to be spreading rapidly through her back to her bright self. He's never seen her so panicked, even around her ex; she's normally so laid back and relaxed. 

Coraline pulls the door open a little further before sweeping Maisie and her stroller inside. Loren murmurs that she's asleep and Cora starts to rock the stroller back and forth, trying her best to keep the baby asleep for as long as she can. It gave her time to regain her scattered composure. Marcus pushes himself up from the armchair he'd been reclined in and sweeps over to take Maisie from Coraline and away from the entryway. 

"Oh-" It startles her a little, when his hands reach out and fingers accidentally brush over her wrist. "Thank you." She smiles at him softly as he backs the stroller out into the living room. 

"Marcus is here?" Loren's eyes light up and a grin pulls at her lips when he falls out of earshot. Her eyebrows raise playfully. 

"Yes."

Her grin only widens. "Are you on a date?"

"No." Coraline scoffs. 

Loren doesn't seem to be giving up and she certainly doesn't believe her. She never does, not usually. She seems to have convinced herself that Cora and Marcus are in love or secretly dating, or both. "This is a date, isn't it?"

"It's not a date, Loren." Cora rolls her eyes but she can't help but smile. She tried to conceal it but she can't stifle the way her corners quirk upwards. It's most definitely not a date — that had ever even crossed her mind — and it's just hilarious how Loren seems to be convinced that her oldest friend is harbouring a secret affection for her best friend. She looks between them both with a glint in her blue eyes, like she knows something they don't and she's just waiting for them to figure it out. Except there’s nothing to figure out. They’re friends. Just friends.

"Whatever you say.” She giggles. Loren smiles back at Marcus, who's stood back by the couch, rocking the stroller back and forth. Coraline follows her gaze and smiles fondly at him; he's not paying attention to them and he doesn't notice the way they're both watching him. 

"We're just friends," Coraline insists again as she turns back to Loren. 

"Sure you are." She smirks. ”I promise I won’t say ‘I told you so’.”

"Just go." Coraline takes her best friend by the shoulders and guides her back out of the door but she can't help the smile that spills onto her lips again. 

"Can I be your maid of honour?"

"Go home and sleep!" 

"Please!"

"I'm shutting the door now, goodbye."

"There are diapers in the bag and she's already been fed," Loren adds hastily as Coraline inched the door shut. "I'll be back in a few hours."

...

Maisie slept for a little while, but now she's wide awake, giggling and trying her best to grab Coraline's curls. The baby sits on Cora's lap, small fingers reaching out towards her insistently. She'd offer her one of the toys Loren had left for her but she only seems interested in them for a few seconds before Coraline's hair tumbles over her shoulder and she grows distracted again. 

She's torn between tying her hair up or just letting Maisie tug on it to her heart's content. But she doesn't; she just lightly whispers no with a shake of her head, a smile and a shake of whatever toy she reaches for first. And it's a never-ending cycle until finally, Maisie decides that hair isn't for her and she prefers the blue teething ring that Coraline reaches for last.

"You really are great with her,” Marcus comments. 

She chuckles, a breathy laugh through her nose. "I'm great with everyone." She pokes her tongue at the corner of her lip and grins. He notices, when she does that, says something about herself being great or that she's good at something, her cheeks flush pink a little. She only means it as a joke, he knows that, but it's almost like it embarrasses her to say or think anything like that. Her eyes betray the way she struggles with it. 

"I have nephews." She shrugs. "I was a great babysitter back in the day."

Maisie makes a gleeful noise, halfway between a squeal and a laugh, and drops the teething ring to the sofa, disinterested. She makes a grab for Coraline's hair again, reaching forward to try and swipe it between her fingers. But Cora's own fingers block her clutches. "No," she whispers quietly with a smile and a chuckle. She pushes her small hand away gently but Maisie delights in it, face illuminating in a grin, and reaches out for Coraline’s curls insistently. 

Marcus reaches down to pick up the toy as Coraline laughs, too distracted to even bother. His arm brushes hers as he does so. She's always struck by how warm he is. The first time she'd noticed it, the day they'd first met, she thought it was because of the sun streaming in through the briefing room’s glass windows. But she’d noticed it every single time he’d touched her since — even just the slightest touch or brush of a hand — until she thinks she’s used to it. She isn’t. His touch warms whatever bare skin it touches immediately and she shudders; Marcus doesn't seem to notice and she's glad because she doesn't want to explain that one fleeting touch from him warms up her entire, otherwise freezing, body.

It's a cliche, she knows that. The kind of cliche you read about in cheesy romance novels. It makes her cheeks burn — Coraline knows she's going bright red; she can feel it crawling slowly over her skin and she shivers like there's a cold breeze dancing it's way up the back of her neck — because she doesn't know what it means. She's never really felt it before she met him, this odd, confusing burn that started in her chest, then blooms out like flowers through her whole body. She usually just brushes it off because it happens whenever and wherever, without warning It just arrives out of the blue, triggered by a glance or a laugh or the briefest touch of a hand. It's ridiculous but she can't help but turn it over and over and over in her mind at night, when she tries to sleep, until she's restless and staring at the wooden beams that stretch across her bedroom ceiling. 

"Do you want kids?" Coraline asks. It’s out of the blue. Her expression almost makes it seem like she wants him to ask her the question, like she's desperate to talk about it with someone, anyone, before it bursts from her chest. Although, he can't help but wonder if she never meant to ask, or if she regrets asking, given the way her eyes fall back to Maisie who's resumed her chewing on the teething ring again. Though, Coraline barely realises she's given anything away. Then again, she doesn't even realise that there is anything to give away. She's so enchanted by the baby and the brush of Marcus' arm against hers that she's giving away maybe a little more than she intends. It's strange to see her like this given her flustered panic of just an hour earlier. 

Marcus takes a moment, a pause to figure out the right answer, then he nods a little. "I would, yes. Some day." He pauses for another second, watching the way her eyes glimmer as she looks at her goddaughter. He already knows her answer before he even asks the question. Or, at least, the real answer. "Do you?"

Coraline's eyes light up; her blue eyes look like the sky on a sunny day. "Maybe," she hums. When she looks up to meet his eyes, the small smile she gives betrays the truth. But she cuts it off like it's wrong or forbidden or downright ridiculous, like she shouldn't feel those things. He notices the way her lips falter like she's biting back the urge to say something, a secret on the tip of her tongue, and how she tugs her lower lip in between her teeth to stop her from smiling again. 

He thinks he knows what makes her so unsure about that. Why she cuts herself off and seems to tell herself it's wrong. She's mentioned it once before, when she was tired — she talks a lot when she's tired, but it's mostly incoherent mumblings that he has to admit, he finds adorable — that Scott didn't want kids. Marcus has never brought up what she’d told him (if she really wants him to know, she'd have told him by now, when she's completely coherent and conscious) but it tugs at the edge of his thoughts as her sentences go quiet when she sees a mother and their baby. They make her smile fondly. It's a smile that's been all-too-lacking since her divorce. 

He understands. It’s happened to him before, twice now. Twice he’s faced heartbreak, that horrible moment when things go sour. When you’re left with a million little ‘what ifs’, wondering where exactly things went so wrong. Wondering if there was anything you could have done, anything at all, to make things better. It’s a dull ache that sits deep in his chest. And it’s agonising. He hates how familiar the feeling has become. 

Marcus has never told her about his past relationships - about his first marriage and eventual divorce, about his last engagement and how it had ended almost as quickly as it had begun, how he’d found himself alone in D.C. without a soul in the world to talk to - and he also hasn’t told her that meeting her was like a fresh start, like the sun had finally peaked through the rain clouds that had hung over his head for so long. She’d helped him settle, finally, even after six months struggling to feel at home in a new, lonely city. She’d welcomed him, helped him find new friends, and stuck by him the entire time. She doesn’t have to be his friend; he’s sure she has much cooler, younger friends that don’t spend most of their days hunched over an ever-growing mountain of paperwork or hidden away inside some tiny downtown art gallery. Sure, he’d be upset if their weekly meetings came to a halt, but he wouldn’t blame her if she chose someone more like herself over him.

Mostly, Marcus just hadn't wanted to dredge up old feelings, not when she was in the thick of a divorce and clearly struggling, no matter how much she pretended she was okay. So he never told her what had happened. When she'd confided in him for the first time those few short months ago, spilling her deepest secrets, staying up until 3am just pouring her heart out to him over the phone, he'd wondered if it was best to tell her. To let her know that he knew how she felt, that he understood. But he still hasn't. She’s asked about his past before, nagging until he relented and revealed things he's never really had much trouble revealing before, and he has told her parts of it. But he usually skirts around the details, like there's nothing important to reveal. He isn't sure why he does it, especially when she opens up to him so easily. He guesses that the moment has never seemed right. 

Maisie's hand is twisted into the fabric of Coraline's dress. She shakes the teething ring in her hands like it's a rattle. "I've never had the chance," she admits, suddenly. "To have kids."

"You've still got time."

"Barely." She sighs. He raises an eyebrow, like he's asking her what she means, but she doesn't continue. She waves a hand and brushes off his concern. "It's not important," she insists. 

But it is important. He knows it is. And, if it matters to her, it matters to him.

[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

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O N E - Beginning of the End

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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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[watercoloredlie]

A Christmas Wish

Title: A Christmas Wish (Day 1) Theme: Bonfire Fandom / Character(s): Supernatural/Arrow; Dean Winchester x Earth 1 Laurel Lance Warnings: Mostly fluff Word Count: 1,339 words Notes: So this is for @champbucks​ @12daysofchristmas​ challenge. I was originally going to just use wrestlers, but after the challenge was opened up to all fandoms, I just couldn’t resist making it the 12 days of Deanmas. If anyone deserves a bunch of cute holiday fics written about him, it’s Dean Winchester. Plus I threw in some Laurel because my girl deserves some holiday goodness too. Credit for the graphic goes to @snarkandsarcasmftw​ and credit for the bonfire idea goes to the show The Originals.

Christmas wasn’t an often celebrated holiday in Dean Winchester’s life. He barely remembered the Christmases he spent with his family prior to his mother’s death. After that, he and his brother Sam were lucky if their dad was even around for Christmas. The closest to a real Christmas he had since then was with Sam in the year leading up to Dean going to Hell. After that, he didn’t think he’d ever have a chance at celebrating the holiday again. But then he was saved from Hell by Castiel. Dean still didn’t celebrate Christmas again until he was with Lisa. He treasured the time he got to spend with her and their son Ben. Then they broke up. Christmas was pretty low key for Dean after that if he even celebrated it at all. Of course that all changed when Emma was born. It was the kick in the ass that Dean needed to see that he needed to do better by his children. So every year since then he tried his best to celebrate Christmas with them.

The bunker had ended up being a blessing in disguise. It gave the Winchesters a home. It gave Ben his own room when he came to visit and it gave Emma her own room. Childproofing it had been a pain, but it was worth it. Then Laurel arrived. She was a friend of Sam’s from college. Unlike him, she was able to go on to law school and become a lawyer. Laurel was also secretly known as The Black Canary, a superhero who nearly died protecting her hometown of Starling City. She faked her death with the help of the Winchesters so that the man responsible wouldn’t try to finish her off. Laurel spent her time in the bunker at first recovering from the surgery that had saved her life. She bonded with the Winchesters and especially with little Emma inadvertently becoming a mother type figure toward the little girl. Laurel would be the one to watch her while Sam and Dean saved the world. The last thing any of them expected was for Mary Winchester to be given back to her sons alive as a reward.

Now it was December and Dean was about to celebrate his first Christmas with his mother since he was three years old. Twinkling lights were strung up all around the bunker. The tree was placed in the perfect spot and decorated with care. Emma had even placed the angel at the top of the tree with a little help from her dad. It was a trenchcoat clad angel at her insistence since Uncle Cas was an angel so of course the angel on the tree has to look like him. Castiel was touched and also a bit amused by the gesture. This year was also the start of a new tradition. One that Dean himself wasn’t too sure of though.

Laurel rolled her blue eyes at him playfully. “It’s not about the wishes, Dean. It’s for good luck. I think it’s sweet.”

“I just don’t want Emma to get disappointed if her wish doesn’t come true.” He admitted with a sigh as he wiped the flour off the counter top.

She couldn’t help smiling softly at that as she moved to check on the cookies that were baking in the oven. “Well that’s why you try to make her understand that it doesn’t guarantee that the wishes will come true.”

“Daddy! Daddy!” The little auburn haired girl in question came rushing into the kitchen heading straight toward him.

“Whoa munchkin! What’s going on?” Dean dropped the rag onto the counter and easily swooped her up into his arms.

“Ben said the Grinch will steal all of our Christmas stuff if I wasn’t a good girl.” Emma pouted at her father.

“Well now that’s not true. We have an anti Grinch security system installed. He doesn’t really leave Whoville though so I don’t think you have to worry.” He pressed a kiss to his daughter’s head reassuringly.

Ben walked in shaking his head. “I only said that because she messed up my game. Grandma took it away. She said she’ll give it to you to give back to me later.”

“Emma just wanted to play with you, bud. That doesn’t mean you can just mess with his game either though, Em. So no more scaring your sister and no more messing with your brother’s things. Why don’t you two go get bundled up? Help your sister. We’ll be going outside in a few minutes.” Dean set the little girl back down onto her feet.

“But the cookies!” Emma protested looking up at her dad.

Laurel grinned softly at the little girl. “They just finished baking. I put them on the counter to cool. We can decorate them when we get back inside.”

“Okay mama.” Emma smiled and followed Ben out of the kitchen.

Dean and Laurel shared a look which only made her blush. After making sure the ovens were off, the two of them bundled up then headed outside where the bonfire was waiting. Ben and Emma were writing down their wishes with the latter being helped by Mary. The warmth from the bonfire in comparison to the chill in the air felt great. Sam and Eileen were near the fire keeping a close eye on it. When everyone was ready, they one by one each dropped a scrap of paper that they wrote their wishes on into the fire. Dean helping his kids do so, of course. It was only a few moments after all the wishes were in the flames that Ben looked toward the sky and his face lit up.

“It’s snowing!” Emma gasped in realization then squealed in delight.

Her brother laughed giving her a high five. “My wish came true.”

Laurel smiled nodding at them. “See? Good luck already.”

They enjoyed the snowfall for a bit. The bonfire keeping them from getting too cold. The kids were ushered back into the bunker after a while. Once they washed up, they went back to the kitchen where they helped Dean and Laurel decorate the cookies. Dean ended up having to wash icing off of Emma’s hands.

“What kind of cookies do you think Santa likes best?” Emma asked as she munched on a cookie afterward.

“I hear he likes pie better.” Dean grinned softly at her.

Laurel nudged him with an elbow earning a chuckle from him. “I think Santa likes all cookies and I’m sure he’ll love whatever cookies you leave out for him.”

“Okay. Can we make Olaf tomorrow?” She asked sleepily.

“If there’s enough snow, sure.”

“Yay!” Emma cheered then yawned finishing her milk.

Dean got her ready for bed. Laurel brushed the little girl’s auburn hair out while Dean read her a story. She was fast asleep soon after. They tucked her in then put the nightlight on. Laurel went to put the cookies away while Dean went to check on Ben. With the bonfire now safely out, Sam walked back inside with Miracle by his side. The dog shook himself off then walked away to get some water. By then, Dean and Laurel were done with what they were doing so they were just quietly talking. Sam smirked playfully and cleared his throat gesturing above them. They looked over at Sam then glanced up only to see some mistletoe hanging above their heads at a height that only the younger Winchester brother could have placed it there.

The blonde blushed at the realization, but didn’t hesitate to lean in kissing Dean softly on the lips. “Merry Christmas, Dean.”

“Merry Christmas, Laurel.” Dean returned the kiss softly.

Mary gave them a knowing smile from where she was seated as the pair kissed a bit more. “Looks like Emma might have her wish come true after all.”

“Wait, what did she wish for?” He pulled back for a moment making them both look over at his mother.

The older blonde couldn’t help laughing softly. “A baby brother.”

[caffeinetheory]

Congrats on 200!! Fake dating au Daminette please?

Thank you so much :>

I hope this came out well, I wasn’t sure where to go with this... without further Adieu 

///

Why damian was picked to go to Paris to asses the situation he wouldn’t know, and no Grayson he doesn’t need more human interaction he’s perfectly happy with what he has. ‘This Marientte girl better be worth his time’ was all he could think as he entered the bakery he was told he could find his contact. Why a simple civilian would baffle him but he didn’t make those kinds of choices.

 He was greeted by a short woman with grey eyes, not his contact, and a warm smile. “How may I help you today monsieur?” thank god Damian had brushed up on his French before walking into the bakery, “Earl Grey and a chocolate croissant?” he asked, the crash in the back taking most of his attention. “Of course monsieur,” he just placed some money on the counter and sat down at a small table to wait for his order. ‘This was the right place right?’ he checked the address Dick had sent him, it was… now where was she?

 A cup of tea was placed in front of him, bringing him out of his thoughts, “I believe this is yours,” the girl around his age said in near perfect English, though accented it was clear. She handed him a small slip of paper with the code word he was told to look out for and winked as she went back to the back to help in the back. It also had a number Damain assumed was hers and a place to meet later. ‘At least she knows subtly,’ he finished his food and left to get ready and to tell Dick he had made contact.

 Damian was early, but there he stood at the base of the Eiffel Tower, she should be there soon. And as luck would have it there she was walking up in a different outfit. Light blue overalls with a baby pink crop top underneath and simple vans, casual attire that wouldn't look out of place, so she was smart. His black jeans, a t-shirt and high tops didn't feel under dressed anymore. 

 “So I assume you’re the ‘little bird’ Nightwing was so happy to talk about,” there was amusement in her tone as she spoke in English. ‘Didn’t she know I know French perfectly fine’ “Perhaps, are you the one I’m supposed to be spending my time with?” “Oh god don’t tell me he was serious about fake dating, I swear to god…” she was starting to ramble ‘So that was Dick’s idea who was he kidding of course it was, human interaction my ass’ “I’ll be in your class by next week,” Damian cut her off on whatever she was rambling about, “We should get our story straight.” “True true,” she lead him to a small secluded area off of the Seine so they could talk more freely. 

 The story they came up with was they met at a gala and had hit it off despite the odds. Believable because Mari was the kind of person to make friends with almost anyone, she also told him to use English around her if he wanted a minimal chance for people to follow what they were saying. He came to do the exchange program to broaden his horizons and the fact his new girlfriend was there was a plus, believable knowing his family. She also warned him about her class and a liar, ‘lovely’ was all he could think, more social climbers. 

 The weekend before Damian joined the class he couldn't figure out how this petite girl one had contacted the League and two why she was trusted by the heroes of this city, she looked like hard a breeze would hurt her. Okay that might be an exaggeration but still! She didn’t look like she could hold her own against anything, so why her? That was something he’d get his answer in due time, walking in on something he wasn’t meant to know.

 Damian insisted on taking her to school on Monday, as a way to show that she was his and so he didn’t need to ask where the class was. Not that he would admit the second part. Damian took her hand as they left the bakery, and they made idle small talk on the short walk to the school. When a black limo pulled up Mari seemed to perk up, something to keep of note. A blonde boy with light green eyes walked out and instantly lit up upon seeing Mari. she was quick to let go of Damian and whisper something into the blonde’s ear and hug him nodding her head slightly back to Damian’s direction, interesting.

 Damain had spent the rest of the day close to Mari but otherwise not paying attention, he already knew everything that they were teaching, this was a waste of his time. Sitting in the back with his ‘girlfriend’ at least let him avoid the looks of the class and watch their behavior. Only three people of note in the whole class. Mari by his side (she also seemed to pay little attention but had well done notes that seemed ahead of the class), the blonde boy for earlier who he learned rather quickly was Adrien Agreste (seemed to also be way too ahead for this class and to share something secret with Mari, he’d need to look into that later) and lastly the Rossi girl. She was not the good interesting though, lies were constantly coming from her mouth to the point he found it hard to believe anyone could take what she was saying seriously. Damain assumed Mari was over exaggeration when she warned him.

 That was routine for about a month: go to class with Mari, be bored out of his mind, hide from the Akumas of the week, then go to her place to get more info. The occasional “date” to a coffee shop or walk in the park. Nothing out there but so it was clear they were dating, constantly holding hands, conversations in English and small gifts. Most of the class had left him alone after it was clear he was with Mari, “If he’s willing to date a jealous girl like Mari he wasn’t worth their time” was the general consensus of the class, he’d gladly take it. 

 It wasn’t until he had wandered from the library to what he assumed was an empty training room on the school grounds. The sounds of rapid fire French and fighting made him curious, it wasn’t an Akuma, there hadn’t been an alert so what could it be? 

 To say being Agreste and his fake girlfriend locked in an instance spar, one that seemed evenly matched. He could expect Agreste to be able to fight, the boy was in fencing after all, but not to this level and Mari… well that was unexpected. 

 To say he didn’t find their banter and technique interesting would be a gross understatement. He was starting to understand why Ladybug trusted Mari, that was until he heard “M’lady” and “Kitty” leave their lips. Things were clicking into place, it all made sense now. Damian felt like an idiot for not seeing it earlier, of course! 

 To say he was seeing both the heroes in a new respect for all they had to deal with in their regular lives and that not affecting their Hero lives would be putting it lightly. For Mari to be capable and cunning but also be able to hide her strength like it was second nature was something Damian wouldn’t admit but he  found really attractive. 

 He found himself actually making an effort to be closer and nicer to her, and slightly to Adrien. He did this in his own Damian way, starting off small by calling them both by  their first names and then slight nicknames, for example Marienette was now Mari. he learned more about their dynamic both in the mask and out, they were like siblings attached at the hip. Ready to throw down at the drop of a hat to help their counterpart.

 To say Damian wasn’t prepared when Adrien invited him to spar with him and Mari was more true then Damian was willing to admit, they knew he knew didn’t they? “Wouldn’t want to leave out her boyfriend would we?” Adrien said with a wink leading him to the same room he had first spied on their spars. 

Her swing to his head was barely dodged and he ducked out of the way just in time, “So when were you planning to tell me you knew?” Adrien stood off to the side making sure no one walked in like he had. It was just the two of them on the mat talking in English and sparing. “Well to be fair I didn’t know you knew,” his smirk didn’t last long as he had to do a backflip to dodge another kick coming his way.

 They went back and forth for about 20 minutes before they were both tired out, Adrien only chiming in to encourage his “Lady”. So here they were both breathing heavily laid on their backs on the mat. 

 “You know you could be cute if you were more open, Sparing shouldn’t be how I get you to open up,” Mari was playful as she turned to look at the ten boy beside her. 

 “Oh just kiss already,” Adrien shouted from the side lines, this was something he had been waiting for since he saw the two togther. If Mari can get the Ice Princess Kagami to open up and be more herself Damian was a goner. Almost everyone eventually fell for the personification of sunshine that was Mari at some point, at least this one might actually have a chance. 

 “How ‘bout a real date first?” the gentle squeeze on his hand and content sound from the girl next to him brought a genuine smile to his face… maybe Grayson did have a point. 

///

Please send more Asks in !!

[muschiettistrashmouth]

Happiest Place On Earth - Andrés Muschietti

Note: Hello there! I’m finally posting here again ♥ I hope you like it and if you want something new feel free to request it or go to my masterlist! Love you guys. 

Ooooh and I’m already thinking of a part two for this one. (This is not the one I was thinking of posting yet, I thought of this one on Monday or something like that)

Requested? Yes

Requests:  Anonymous: can you do more Andy Muschietti stuff? I've kinda developed a crush on him and I read your headcanons. please! thanks. |||   credulouskhaleesi: So 1st and most importantly, I give you absolutely nooo pressure on starting (you let those creative juices stew and create magic when you're ready) but I just realized I never asked you to tag me when you do create the wonderful fanfic featuring the awe-inspiring, Argentinian, aesthetically-perfect, Andrés (Alliteration inspiration?)! I would owe you my 2nd born if u remembered me (sorry, I'm pretty found of my 1st)🤷🏾‍♀️😁❤ T.I.A!

WARNINGS: Toxic relationship, aggressive ex boyfriend, violence, suicide talk (it appears like in one little part but i thought I needed to tw it)

Disneyland is supposed to be the happiest place on earth and yet here you are, listening to your boyfriend Kyle talking shit about how you treat him. And to make things worse, his "friend" Rebekah is getting out of one of the attractions. Yay. "Kylee!" The girls voice is loud and all you wanna do is get out of there. "Bekah! How are you?" Yeah, right. As if you didn't know they fucked. You knew they were together yesterday, you could feel her perfume in his clothes. "Your girl is soooo muzzy." 'God, just get me out of here's + "Okay, rule number one!" The older man started to list, everyone stopped talking and looked at him."Don't lose the kids. Yes, Hader and Chastain are part of the kids." "Hey!" Both said together and then laughed their ass off. "That's what I mean." He was serious, almost as if he was a horror movie crazy doctor or something. "Rule number two: don't do anything stupid." "That's for you." The Wolfhard kid elbowed Hader. "It's not." The older man that played his character put his tongue out like a little kid would do. "It's for both of you, actually." "Aww c'mon man." "Third rule is..." He waited for everyone to look at him. "If you need anything you can ask me or Barbara. Any questions?" Hader put his hand up and everybody groaned. "Yeah, dad, can we have fun?" The comedian asked playfully. "Just don't embarrass yourself or anyone here, ok? Go." As soon as the group started walking towards the park, the blonde woman looked at her brother. "You don't need to act so mad all the time you know?" " I don't know what you're talking about. Let's go before they do something stupid." The man ran to  little Jackson to help him find the rides he wanted to go to, the first rule was already broken. + Waiting to get your food, you were constantly trying to block all the conversation your boyfriend and his "friend" were having. "We should go to the Prince Charming Carrousel." Kyle eventually looked at you to see if you were paying attention, returning to look at her lovingly. "Everything for you, honey." He had said. "Everything for you, honey." You said mocking him. "What?" Kyle looked at you right away. "Huh? Oh nothing, nothing." You faked smile, hoping he wouldn't grab your arm this time, hoping you wouldn't have bruises to cover up. "That's what I thought." The way he looked at you made you shiver. "Can we please go see Belle? Or Ariel? I really want to take some pics with them." You said eating your churros. Some people passed by looking at your back and arms that still had some bruises from last time, God you hated that. "Excuse me, ma'am." A soft voice called you. "I'm lost, can you tell me where the Seven Dwarfs Mine Train is?" You got down to talk with the kid, trying to remember the exact place. "JACKSON!" You heard a man. "Jeez, kid! Don't do that to me." "It's okay, she'll help us, Andy!" Jackson said to the man. You could feel Kyle's eyes burning in your back, but hey, it's just a kid. You gave him the directions to the attraction. "Thank you, ma'am." The little kid said when you got up. He was really sweet. "Thank you." The tall man looked at you and you could see he had some curiosity in his stare. "Sorry for yelling earlier, I'm with a bunch of kids here, it drives me mad." "Not a problem, sir." You laughed. "Let's go, y/n." Kyle grabbed your right arm. You stayed quiet for a moment to stop yourself from shivering. "Okay, honey." "Is that a problem?" The man, Andy, said. "I'm her boyfriend. Stop trying to fuck her." 'oh no' you thought 'its happening again' "Kyle, I was just giving the kid some information, it's nothing." After you said that the only thing you felt was a slap in your face. "Don't talk like that to me, you whore. I'm sick of it." He was complaining that people were looking at you the whole week. It was a matter of time this would happen. "Let her go." Andy said, ready to fight him. Kyle was still holding your arm tightly. Jackson was scared, holding the blonde woman's hand, both starring at you three. Rebekah was sitting on a bench, eating your churros and watching the little show. "Make me." The blonde woman gave Jackson to a redhead woman that went to talk to her, they seemed like good friends. She then walked your way. Andy punched your boyfriend's face, he let you go and the blonde hugged you and got you closer to her friend and the kid. It all happened so fast, they were punching each other, Kyle was surprisingly losing, and then a security guard came running. Andy explained the situation while holding Kyle on the ground. "I'll take it from here." He got Kyle and started walking. "And what about him?" He started yelling, trying to get away from him. "He didn't do anything... As far as I care you tripped and fell on the ground." The guard explained. "Y/n! You come right here." You tried to go, but the blonde was still holding you in place. "I have to go." "You don't have to." She said. "Not anymore." "You don't understand... He'll get mad and then beat me up again." This came out between sobs. "He said that if I ever leave him he'll kill himself!" "He won't, honey." The redhead said softly. Her hand on your shoulder. You were crying. Hard and painfully. Your knees on the ground, the blonde still hugging you, and you hold onto her tightly. "Everything's gonna be okay." "Barb." Andy said, helping you both get up. They talked a little bit, but you didn't understand Spanish. She was still hugging you, saying everything is going to be okay and that you're free now, Andy went to buy some cold water for you. "I didn't got the chance to know you better. My name's Barbara, you can call me Barb if you want to." Barbara smiled. "I'm y/n, you can call me y/n/n." You smiled back. People like Barbara and Andy were rare in your experience, normally people would let Kyle beat you and even blame you for that. "Thank you for helping me. I really appreciate that." "Oh honey, that's the least we could do. I'm so sad that he was able to slap you tho." "Not the first time, not the first place..." A sigh escaped your lips. "Here." Andy gave you the water bottle. "Put it on your cheek." "Thanks." He scared you a little. He was handsome, but really tall. And he also looked like a crazy doctor. "Not for that, miss." He nodded to a group of mostly men that joined the redhead woman and then looked at you again. "You should come with us to the attractions. That way no one will bother you and... You can actually have fun." "That would be nice." "Great, you will love them." He gave you his hand to help you up again. "These two are clowns. They are really idiots." He pointed at the redhead and a goofy looking man. "She's Jessica and he's Bill, you can call him Hader. The others are Isaiah, Andy, James, the other James you can call Ransone, Bill and Jay." He pointed at them while saying the names. "The kids are Finn, Wyatt, Chosen, Sophia, Jack, Jeremy, Jaeden and  Jackson." "It's a pleasure to know you all." You had stopped crying and were drying your tears. The rest of your day was incredible. They made you laugh and were super friendly to you. Hader was the funniest guy you ever met. When you went to get lunch, Andrés - that was his real name - paid your lunch, he insisted. After the fireworks, everyone headed to the parking lot. "Hey, message me when you get home okay?" Andrés said after stopping by your car. You gave him your phone so he could put his number in it. "I'll probably put you in our group chat." "That's really nice of you, Muschietti." "Drive safely, honey!" Barbara said opening up her window. "You too!" You got inside your car. That really was the happiest place on earth.

TAGS:  credulouskhaleesi

If you want to be tagged in something pls tell me, I’ll gladly tag you ♥

[oldsoldierr]

The Carnation ~ Part 2

summary: the media always told you that the famous art critic bucky barnes is an arrogant, rude playboy and you agree, but something still draws you to him. is there a deeper reason to why he acts the way he does or is he the class A jackass you first met?

art critic!bucky x artist!reader

word count: about 2.1k

series masterlist ~ part 1

After your startling realization that you just might have a crush on a certain Bucky Barnes, you tried your best to just ignore it. You told yourself that your feelings would go away after not seeing him for the rest of your life. You just assumed that after he left that day it would be the end of it. 

But then he did the worst thing you could’ve possibly imagined. He came back to the studio. Everyday in fact. You had never known someone so frustrating. 

Every day he’d come in, insult something, and sit on whichever side of you wasn’t occupied by Steve. Bucky would just sit there annoying you for however long he was there, occasionally walking over to Sharon’s area or making conversation with Steve. How did this busy man always find time to be the worst?

One time after a particularly rough day, you complained, “Why won’t you just sit by Steve?” He just smiled at you innocently.

“Well, how’m I supposed to bother you when you’re a whole seat away from me?” You stared at him blankly for a good 5 minutes. You lost 12 brain cells that day.

You decided you’d need a new plan once you realized he actually wasn’t going anywhere. After considering hiring some pest patrol or just hitting him with a brush you decided on just trying to avoid him.

It’s too bad that it was near impossible because, not only did he insist on moving seats to wherever you moved, but after a couple of weeks of Bucky coming to the art studio, Steve had to leave town for some business meetings.

“It’s gonna be fine!” Steve insisted. 

Your car reached the airport.

“You guys know each other well enough to be by yourselves for two weeks.”

“I do not! We’re barely acquaintances! All he does in the studio is bother me or flirt,” you retorted. “I legitimately don’t think he’s picked one pencil up since he first started coming.”

“That’s not true! He picked up a pencil once to throw it at you,” he pointed out. You barked out a laugh.

“Really helping your case here,” you said sarcastically.

“Hey,” Steve looked at you and squeezed your shoulder reassuringly. “It’s gonna be okay.” You took a deep breath.

“I really hope so.” You gave the blonde a nervous smile. 

“Anyways, I don’t matter right now. Go be amazing at your meeting and when you get the client you have to give me half the money!” You changed the subject.

“Fuck no!” Steve laughed. You continued to chat as you parked the car and began helping Steve get out his luggage. With each second the realization that you weren’t going to see Steve for 14 days hit you harder. Once his suitcases were all out you gave him a bittersweet look.

“I’m really gonna miss you.” You engulfed him in a hug. He hugged back.

“It’s only for two weeks and I’ll call you,” he soothed. You pulled away and rocked back and forth on your heels.

“You promise?” The blonde chuckled.

“Mhm, I’ll even pinky promise,” he said with a teasing smile. You gave him a faux pout.

“You’re mean. I change my mind. I’m not gonna miss you.” You jokingly walked away but you knew you were only trying to delay him leaving. Steve caught on.

“Well, I gotta go now y/n/n,” he said. You sighed.

“I know…” You acknowledged sadly but didn’t show your true emotions for long.

“Good luck! Go kick ass!” You continued with forced excitement.

He put his hands on each side of your shoulders. 

“It’s really gonna be okay,” he assured. He turned around and started walking to the airport.

You nodded as Steve left. But your smile dropped as soon as you were out of his view. Steve had been your only friend since you moved to Brooklyn and had never been without him this long. You massaged the bridge of your nose.

How the fuck am I gonna survive this?

~~~

If you’re being honest, your drive back was rather depressing. You didn’t even bother turning on the radio. You just drove with a tight expression on your face trying to make your anxieties go away, but they just wouldn’t stop. Your brain was pounding. 

You had sulk-driven in silence around a third of the way back without even noticing. That’s when you felt your phone vibrate and the familiar chiming ringtone of a call. 

You glanced down quickly at the screen to see an unknown number. You thought about just ignoring it since you got spam often and you know, you were driving. It probably would’ve been the wiser thing to do but you were bored and miserable so you thought, what the hell. You heard the beep as you pressed the accept call button.

“Hello?” You half expected to get an automated message telling you that you had won an amazon gift card and that you needed to tell them your credit card number immediately. Instead, it was a rich, deep voice you had heard far too many times before.

“Hey y/n,” Your eyes widened so much you were afraid they might fall out.

“Bucky?” you choked out. You could practically see his smug little face.

“Yes ma’am,” he replied obediently. There was an unending amount of thoughts swirling through your head faster than you could calculate. The first question that entered your mind was, “How did you get this number?” Something rustled from the other end before bucky responded.

“I hacked into your phone and took it,” He said sarcastically. You raised your eyebrows.

“Haha, very funny. But seriously, did Steve give it to you?” Bucky hesitated and answered.

“Yeah.--” He selected his words with caution. “--...he thought you might need some company.” From the deliberate phrasing he chose, you deduced that Steve had told him about you being a lonely fuck. You internally groaned.

“S’ one way to put it,” you mumbled.  “Thank you for your consideration but I don’t feel like being pitied right now.” Bucky fake laughed.

“Like I’d ever pity you,” he said like it was a hilarious joke. 

“It’s more babysitting.” You suddenly remembered you were talking to Bucky Barnes and bit your lip in exasperation. 

“Fuck you, Bucky,” you snapped back. You knew you had made a mistake far too late.

“Only if you want me too,” he sang back, overjoyed at the opportunity to make the joke.

You threatened, “I will hang up your ass faster than you can say pumpkin pie is the worst pie.” The brunette fucking laughed.

“Mmm, so first of all, it’s not, it’s the best thing on earth, and second, then why haven’t you hung up yet?” You didn’t really have an answer to give him that wasn’t “I love your voice and I want to kiss you”. You swiftly came up with an excuse.

“Cause I need to drive idiot.”

More noise erupted from Bucky’s side. Your eyes narrowed, confused.

“Where are you right now? It sounds like a zoo on your end.” You heard the brunette talking to someone before he returned to you.

“Hmm? Oh, I’m at an art museum.��� You scrunched your brows together. What’s he doing at an art museum at 11:30pm? You wondered. You felt like you had heard something about this before, but couldn’t put your finger on it. Another couple seconds of idle insults were held between the two of you. Then, as if to answer you you hear someone distantly say, “Thank you for coming to the Party in the Garden, please take a…” You gasp. That’s what you were trying to remember! 

“You’re at the fucking biggest MoMA fundraiser of the year and you’re talking to me? You’re so much dumber than I thought you were.” This man was truly unbelievable. But you had to admit it did feel nice that he was blowing off the party for you. 

“There are some really important people there, what are you doing on your phone?” you scolded. He hummed in response.

“In my defense, it’s kind of your fault I’m on my phone.” Bucky pointed out.

“I-- wh-” you stuttered at this guy’s nerve. “How is it my fault? You called me!”

“Yeah cause you don’t have any friends. That’s why Steve made me call you, right?” Bucky sneered. From his tone, it seemed like he realized how much that hurt you. This fucking man. Your voice rose.

“Oh, I don’t have any friends? Like you can talk, the person with only fake friends.” You said defensively. “None of them actually like you, they like your status, you know,”  You snapped in return. By his silence, clearly you had struck a chord with him. This conversation went from 1 to 100 real quick. He grunted.

“At least I even have fake friends. Do YOU have any? Oh that's right, you don’t, you’re all. fucking. Alone. And I don’t doubt for a minute that you deserve it,” he bit back. Oh, he was gonna be like that. You scoffed before going off.

“Oh I deserve it? Look at yourself. You always pretend you’re the best, walk around like you're royalty. Well, I’ve seen how you really are, you aren’t worth a damn thing.” Bucky went to interrupt but you weren’t done. “You’re an insecure, cowardly bitch who insults others to make yourself feel better about yourself. Do you wanna know what people say behind your back? They say you’re annoying and arrogant. A selfish ass playboy who doesn’t deserve a fucking thing he gets, goddamn cuck,” You exploded, taking a deep breath. 

There were so many emotions rocking around your head it was getting hard to think clearly. Cars beeped at you as you began to drift. The phone was silent before Bucky spoke again. It was surprisingly quiet and vulnerable.

“That’s what you think?” You realized what you had said.

“I-- no-I didn’t--” This time he cut you off.

“It’s fine,” he replied sharply. “I understand--” He let out a breath. 

“I won’t bother you again.” 

“No, wait--!” With a loud beep, the line went dead. 

You groaned. 

Shit. 

You hit your hand on the dashboard. 

Stupid, stupid, you scolded yourself.

You tried to make excuses for saying those things but you couldn’t. Most of them weren’t even true. You felt like a monster.  You yelled in frustration. You couldn’t even call anyone to talk about it. Steve was on a plane and your other friends were asleep in your hometown. You wished you had never answered that call. You wished you hadn’t been such an idiot. 

The rest of the ride back felt even colder than it had beforehand. The busy city of Brooklyn passed you by. The lights and the noise you had dreamed about as a kid felt dull and melancholic. 

Fuck the American dream. 

You arrived at your apartment around an hour later. You pulled up in front of the building and walked up to your floor like there was a pile of bricks on your back. You fiddled with your keys before finding the right one and walked inside your apartment. You collapsed onto the couch and screamed into a cushion. 

I should call him back and apologize, you thought. But from the little time you spent with Bucky Barnes, you knew he didn’t forgive that easily. 

How did this all go to shit so fast? Your conversation had started so nicely. Maybe even playfully flirty if you squinted.

You didn’t get a chance to wallow in your self-pity for long as your phone rang again for the second time that night. You grabbed hopefully at the phone thinking it might be Bucky, but it wasn’t. Your wishful thinking seemed it was just that cause it was another random number.

You placed it face down back on the couch and let it ring out. For half a minute the ringtone that you began to resent sang it’s melody. You didn’t have the heart to stop it though, as it went to voicemail. You were planning on completely ignoring it but your conscience wouldn’t let you. What if it was important?

You sighed as you unlocked your phone and clicked on the play button on the voicemail. As the person on the other side kept speaking, you felt like your heart was going further into your throat. You couldn’t breathe and your hands shook.

“Ms. y/l/n, this is NYU Langone Health, you need to come to the hospital as soon as possible. James Buchanan Barnes has been in an accident.”

writing this series is pretty fun but i miss going outside and seeing real people :’)

series masterlist

[diamondcamefromhell]

Timeless love

Jaskier x Reader part 5

[PART 1]  [PART 2]   [PART 3]  [PART 4]

Summary: This is an AU, where Y/N is a young woman, trying to make ends meet with her freelancing writing job. She lives in her small Nottingham studio apartment along with her cat Apollo. Things change when one evening as she is waiting for her taxi, she meets what she thinks is Joey Batey, but the man in front of her is convinced he’s Jaskier, a character from her current favorite show. Y/N now has to figure out what to do.

Warnings: drinking and just some cheesy cheese

Word count: 2,637

A/N: Ahhh you guys, thank you for liking this story and encouraging me to write it, i sooo expected this to be a flop, and i really appreciate the [so far] positive feedback ahhh! we writers do fuel on comments sometimes, lol, so whenever you lot say you like it i go so soft and THANK YOU hope you like this part <333

Jaskier doesn’t look at me, keeping his gaze at his arms. I see him try to blink the tears away, but he fails, as some escape, washing down his face. I reach out, putting my hand on his.

“I’m sorry.” I whisper, not wanting to disturb him. He wipes his face with his free hand, looking at me.

“It’s accurate.” His voice sounds rough and deep. I squeeze his hand. “Like, really accurate.”

“It must be scary.” He hangs his head low.

“It is, Y/N. But at the same time…” Jaskier now leans back on the coach, closing his eyes. His lashes now cast shadows down his face, making him appear so much older. “I am glad that it is, at the very least, correct. Not some fake story, just using our names and faces. It’s real.”

“I cant even imagine what you’re feeling. What must be going through your head.” I whisper as he opens his eyes, gazing at me. “But I want you to know I am here to help you, in any way I possibly can.”

“I have no doubts about that.” He reassures me, brushing hair out of his face, taking a deep breath in. “It’s scary, but it made me upset because… I miss it. I miss Geralt and Roach and I miss Velen and Novigrad.”

“You’re homesick.” He nods. “I promise we will get you home, we will figure it out. Something, somehow.”

“Thank you.” He offers me a smile, and I stare into his eyes, wondering just how much they have seen. How much of a different world, so far away? I wish I could experience that. With him. But then I also know, I belong here and he truly belongs there.

“Until then, Jaskier, maybe I should allow you to experience more of my world.” I say, taking laptop on my knees, exiting Netflix.

“I would be recognized as the guy who plays me, unless I can experience it from your home.” I shake my head.

“I should have thought of it sooner, if I am honest.” I sigh, turning laptop to him. “We have wigs. And some people wear cute little masks as fashion. We could pretend you are one of them, get a wig, and boom. You’re a different person, free to roam the world. We could go to eat out or an amusement park or clubbing or…-“

“Is it a date?” He cuts me off, immediately sending a blush to my face.

“Sure.” I stutter as he giggles, and my heart eases up a little.

So I order a wig. A blond one, spend good pounds on it. And a mask. And just more outfits. They should arrive here by tomorrow. I leave the shop, not wanting to know what my bank balance is looking like.

Then I open some more tabs. I begin grilling Jaskier, trying to distract him. I ask where he would want to go eat, if he even wants to go ride some rollercoasters. He agrees to it all, as his eyes lighten up and his shoulders relax. My hear beats faster.

The next day when items arrive, he tries them on, and while the wig is not the best, you cant really recognize him. So that same evening, I decide it’s time we go to a pub, something he is almost familiar with. We’re walking from the taxi, towards the pub just out of town, as I begin explaining it to him.

“It is similar to a tavern, in my opinion at least.” I say, as he nods. “You can go there, order some food, drinks, whatever really, just a place to hang out.”

“Sounds cool.” He says, not sounding impressed and I grin at him.

We make it inside, as the warmth surrounds us. I hear some pop music play, wondering what Jask will think about that. I guide us to a further corner, a table behind a pillar. I know some waitresses call it a “lovers nest” and that sheer name makes my heart skip a beat. Sadly, we are using it for coverage mostly.

We sit down, Jaskier’s back facing the pub, as a waitress gives us our menus, giving a weird glance to the bard, but not commenting on his outfit.

I forced him to wear a simple white shirt with a oversized colourful jacket. It had patterns of marvel superheroes, which I thought was cool, but he said wearing “green goblin” on his ass wasn’t his cup of tea.

“You can take your mask off.” I encourage Jaskier now, as he practically rips it off. Underneath, I see a smile.

“This is nice.” I hm in agreement, looking at the menu.

“We can start with drinks.” I say, turning it around to the drinks side. “Unless you’re hungry.”

“No, I’m okay on food.” I smirk, twisting his menu too.

“Then let’s drink.” He seems to like that.

We order some cocktails, although Jaskier insisted of good old ale. And some shots of different spirits. The waitress brings it, wishing us a good night, and I know she probably wont bother us much. Unwritten rule for lovers nest.

So we drink up, talking about everything and nothing. I tell him about how I find Apollo on the streets, poor boy was bones and skin, full of lice and worms in his belly. Costed me a lot, but I was determined to take care of him. He tells me about the time before he met Geralt, how he learnt to play the lute by himself.

“I would wonder the fields, singing my heart out. I wasn’t very good then.” He laughs, looking into the distance with a nostalgic look growing on his face.

“How come?” I ask, sipping my Mojito, which Jaskier didn’t like.

“The wolves would run away, whenever they would hear me.” I chuckle, and his gaze comes back, landing on me, as his lips curl into a smile. “But I learnt.”

“I know.” I say, as he grows silent. He hasn’t sung since we met. “You should, however, prove it some time.”

“Hm.” He smirks.

I almost don’t hear it, in a faintest voice, Jaskier begins to sing. In a language I don’t understand. I don’t know if he spoke one of the elder languages, if it was elven or something, but it sounded beautiful. So sad, however.

My gaze seemed to encourage him, as his voice grew ever so braver. He didn’t take his eyes off me, as if to make sure I was listening. I wouldn’t dare to do anything else. Then, as sudden as it began, it stopped.

“That was beautiful.” I say as the light above our table flickers. “Even if I understood nothing.”

“Not mine song. One of the elves I’ve met on a road taught me.” My curiosity grows as I lean in.

“What is it about?” That makes Jaskier blush, as he winks at me.

“I’ll tell you another time.” I lean back now, crossing my arms.

“Not fair.” I argue, but he doesn’t budge.

“I promise, you will learn someday. Just, not today.” I roll my eyes, easing up however, as I reach back for my mojito.

“Oh! I love this song!” I say as a slightly louder one comes on. It’s Ed Sheeran’s ‘Thinking Out Loud’

I spring to my feet, drink still at hand, as I dance to the rhythm, twirling and twisting around, not caring if I look graceful or anything. I was feeling the moment. I sing along to it, not being anxious if I sound bad. The wonders of alcohol.

I finally make eye contact with Jaskier, who seems to be mesmerized. I reach out to him, pulling him up just as the lyrics hit ‘Maybe just a touch of a hand’. I keep singing, making him dance with me. He kind of doesn’t move, his lips slightly apart, eyes wide open.

I take step back, to sing the chorus and I twirl around him, smiling. I keep singing, now mostly just waving my body side to side, looking at the bard in front of me. The whole pub seems to disappear, nothing else matters. Just me and him, in his stupid wig.

Just us, in this world. Scared and confused. Lost. Not sure of what tomorrow may bring. But for now, we were in this together, and in this very moment, I counted all of my blessings. The biggest one stood before my very own eyes. His lips still parted, his gaze still on me.

My chest tightened as the song was nearing the end and I walked towards him. Just to make sure he is real, truly here. And he was, as his hands land on my waist and he finally swings with me, as I silence my signing to a mere whisper, placing my forehead on his shoulder. Breathing him in, storing the scent in my brain. I memorize the way his hands lay, engraving it in my body, so I could remember it when he is not there to remind me.

I touched him. I smelled him. And now.

I pull away, and before I can change my mind, before worry and anxiety come over me, I place my lips on his. My eyes are shut, as I am scared to open them, even when we pull apart.

Now I tasted him too. The pina colada he just drank was still on his lips. Coconut and a mix of alcohol. But there was something else, something I couldn’t point out. I guess it was just the way his kiss tastes.

“You can open your eyes.” I hear hip whisper, as the song ends. I jump a little, opening my eyes. He gazes into me.

“Sorry.” I stutter, stepping back, as his grip loosens and I slide out of his arms.

“For what?” He furrows his brows, and I feel heat rush to my face.

“I crossed the line?” I say, and it sounds more like a question than a statement.

“Oh, Y/N.” He lets out a laugh, as it eases me up immediately. “You really didn’t. I like you.”

I stare at him, as he says it so casually. It slid off his tongue, like poison, going right in my bloodstream, straight to my heart. I go back to my seat, downing the rest of mojito. Jaskier follows suit, sitting in front of me, grinning.

“Stop being so afraid.” He grabs my hand, which I didn’t even notice was shaking.

“I like you.” I admit, not looking at him, as I blush even more. “And it’s scary to like someone, Jaskier.”

“It’s not like you like a monster.” He teases as I fix my gaze on his empty glass.

“No, of course not, but…” I stop there. No need to remind him we are from different worlds. Right now we were both here. Together. Nothing was stopping us from falling. “I don’t know.”

“There are a lot of things people may never know.” I look at him now, as he gives me a soft, encouraging smile. “Love might just manage to be one of them.”

“It really is.” I agree, leaning back. I feel my heart calm down a little.

“By the way, you sound incredible.” I open my mouth in shock as Jaskier doesn’t seem to be able to hold in a laugh, as it rings the entire pub. “You look so much more surprised by that, than me liking you.”

“Because you just said I sound incredible!” I pull my hand from his grip, brushing my hair out of my face, squinting at him. “Do you like the sound of dying cats too?”

“If they sounded like you, I might kill cats for fun.” I flush red.

“Stop.” I stutter as he giggles, clearly entertained. “I need to use the restroom.”

I spring to my feet, fanning my face as I rush past him. I find the bathroom in a basement. I go, splash some water on my face. It doesn’t really help, but it gives me a moment to calm down. I take deep breaths, bravely walking out.

I bump into someone.

“Sorry.” I say, lifting my head. My heart sinks.

“It’s okay.” Our eyes meet, as the man face grows full of concern. “Are you okay?”

“I think I might be sick.” I scramble the words, turning on my feet rushing back in the bathroom. I let out the alcohol into the toilet, flushing it, as my head aches. This can’t be happening.

“Hey, are you okay?” The familiar voice creeps in as I grunt. I know he cant hear me. I quickly wash my mouth with some water, coming out again.

“Yeah, sorry.” I cant stop my voice from shaking, as he crosses his arms, his blue eyes piercing at me.

“You looked like you saw a ghost or something.” He giggles and I manage to give a weak smile in response.

“I recognized you, is all.” I decide to say the truth, or at least some of it. “Didn’t expect to see someone like you in this pub.”

“One of my friends is from around here, we’re catching up.” I stare at him, not believing my luck. One of his, one of Joey Bateys friends lives nearby. Are you kidding me.

“Then I wont hold you back any longer.” I say, moving out of the way so he could go to the stairs, but he doesn’t move.

“You’re not holding anyone back, I am glad to meet a fan.” I grin, turning around and initiating us walking out of this basement.

“Maybe not by the bathrooms.” I point out as he snickers and now not seeing him I can pretend it’s Jask.

“Can I buy you a drink?” I shake my head.

“I’m on a date.” I say, gritting my teeth. “Thank you, though.”

“Yes, of course.” I stop in the pub now, as I see that nobody is batting an eye. Nobody else seemed to recognize the actor.

“Well, I better not keep my man waiting.” I look at Joey one more time, praying to god I don’t vomit on him now.

“Enjoy your date.” Joey says as I nod as a thanks. “Maybe I’ll see you around?”

“I truly hope so.” I say in a friendly voice, as he waves at me, going to a different end of a pub.

I rush to our table, practically attacking Jaskier. I grip his shoulder tightly.

“We need to go.” I hiss startling him. “Now.”

“What happened?” I don’t feel like I have time to talk, as I take my purse, pulling out the card.

“Mask on. Head down.” I order, as I speed walk to the bar, paying for the drinks.

I hear Jask behind me, so I rush to the door, glad Joey seems to be seated in the other corner, where he can’t see us flee. Once outside, I keep power walking, until out of breath Jaskier catches on and grabs my hand.

“What happened?” I look at him.

“I met Joey Batey. Inside.” I grunt, as I shake. Jaskier pulls me into a hug, patting my back.

“Hey, he’s just a guy, nothing to be scared off.” I know he’s right. I know it, but yet…

“I am not scared off him, just. If people were to see you two, next to each other…” I jumble the words, not sure if he can understand what I’m trying to say.

“So you were worried for me.” I hear a smile in his voice, so I gently punch his hand, as I pull away. “That’s why I like you.”

“Because you need someone who will look after you like you’re a baby?” I tease as he laughs.

But my beating heart doesn’t slow, so I quickly get us a taxi home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

TAG LIST [if you wish to be added or removed from this, let me know <3 ]

@ultracolorfulnerdcollection ; @viyamystic ; @sleepyblossom ; @killjoy-acid-crash ; @halszka-potter  ; @apersondealwitlt <3

[dragonnan]

16, 17 and 19 for the most recent ask thingy, should you feel the mood sway you. 😁

The mood will ALWAYS sway me lol!

16. Describe your WIP that currently has the highest word count.

Simon and Simon and Psych (Psych/Simon & Simon) Word count: 24,323

So this one, in spite of not being updated in YEARS, is a story I’m still absolutely on fire to resume because I’m just thrilled af about the concept. It’s a crossover between 2 series I love - Psych and Simon & Simon (an 80s Private Detective series).  What excites me most about it was the reimagining of Simon & Simon for the modern era while still retaining all of the things that made the characters what they were.  

A little back story on Simon & Simon as I feel more people will be less familiar with that series of the two.  The series is about 2 brothers who decided to open a detective agency together after the younger brother, AJ (Andrew Jackson), left the larger detective agency where he had been working for several years.  

AJ is blond, surfed a great deal as a younger man, attended law school, and was considered the “golden child” growing up somewhat sheltered and cherished and maybe a tad innocent of the world.  When his brother went to Viet Nam, AJ took part in the peace protests - primarily because he was terrified for his brother and wanted to do anything he could to make the fighting stop.  AJ tends to be the more mature of the brothers - nearly always wearing a suit and usually takes lead in dealing with clients (assuming Rick doesn’t interrupt him).  

Rick, the older brother, left home after they father died and bounced around from various interests, including being a biker for a time, before going to Viet Nam.  He would come back from the war with a boatload of PTSD and a very fierce drive to protect his younger brother (probably far more so than he’d even felt prior to Viet Nam but to be clear - Rick is VERY protective of AJ).  All of that, however, might take the casual observer by surprise as Rick is incredibly irresponsible (on the surface) and nearly always in a good mood or quick with a joke.  Just don’t threaten baby bro other their mother.  Really, just do not.   

So that’s a bit of backstory so I can mention my changes for the modern era.  Instead of Viet Nam, Rick is now a veteran of Desert Storm.  They now both carry cell phones instead of relying on pay phones or other land lines.  They have a website.  I’ve updated their cars.  Before, AJ drove a red Camaro T Top so I changed that to a 2008 Chevy Corvette.  Rick, in the series, drove a 1979 Dodge Power Wagon so that one... did not change lol!  I seriously cannot picture Rick in any other vehicle. 

So after ALL OF THAT there’s actually a story in progress...

The plot thus far is that the Simon brothers are in Santa Barbara because AJ is running in the annual Half Marathon (an actual one cause I do like to blend some real events with my fiction lol).  While in town, Rick goes to run an errand - picking up an item his buddy Carlos had shipped but wasn’t able to pick up himself because Carlos is... sketchy (an actual character from the series that we hear about anecdotally from Rick).  Meanwhile, Juliet and Lassiter are at the shipyards as well, having set up a sting on suspicion of drug activity.  So, of course, when Rick goes to collect this item for Carlos, he ends up being stopped by the cops who confiscate the item after finding it filled with drugs and they arrest Rick.  THIS, then, is how the crossover comes into play as Shawn, of course, horns in on the investigation and immediately suspects that Rick is being setup so he volunteers to help out the Simons.  Various things happen which ultimately leads Shawn, Gus, and AJ back to the shipyards and a suspicious warehouse (aren’t ALL warehouses suspicious?) where suspicious men are rapidly emptying it of product.  The 3 men get caught and are bundled off in the back of a suspicious vehicle to a suspicious location.  At about this time Rick is let out on bail (thanks moooom....) and in a panic as he hasn’t heard from his brother.  When he realizes AJ must be in trouble, he ends up tentatively joining up with Juliet and Lassiter who are trying to find Shawn. Nobody is entirely thrilled with being teamed up in either group...

And this is roughly where things stand after the last update!     

So after I’ve subjected you to all of the above, how about a snippet from chapter 1?

___

Shawn Spencer spun slowly in his father's chair – maintaining just enough speed to make a full revolution before kicking himself into another circuit.  Typically he enjoyed his time at the station, provided he wasn't behind bars or being subjected to an interrogation.  Okay, scratch that.  He did enjoy an interrogation provided his hot pants girlfriend with a personal pair of handcuffs was the one dressing him down.  He leered. He didn't even have to try to make that sound dirty.  

Right.  Back on the subject at hand. Naughty cop Jules would, sadly, have to wait until they could have some private time.

If they could have some private time.  Of course, the way things were going lately...

And that brought him back full circle to his original beef.

Dad was being cagey. Like, Nick Cagey complete with diminished mane and sneaky covertness. Sure, he pretended he wasn't being covert but his dad sucked almost as bad as Lassie when he tried to fake acting casual. He was way too sour in the shorts to pull off that level of none chalice.

Like now, the old man was going for coffee. Like anybody with half a badge couldn't see right through that act. Shawn pulled together a mild sneer as his dad returned to his desk.

“Really? You put sugar in that too?”

His dad didn't look at him as he set his coffee on the desk. “Stop glaring at me. And get the hell out of my chair!”

Shawn didn't budge. “I am on to you.” He enunciated with immaculate exaggeration.

“The only thing you're on is my chair. And too many Pop Rocks; I thought Gus had cut you back to one pack a day.”

“I'm allowed two packs on the weekend.”

“It's Wednesday, kiddo. Maybe it's time you invested in a calendar.”

“Well maybe it's time you invested in hair plugs!” Shawn paused as his father crossed his arms. The pointing hand dropping back to his lap. “Too Terence Stamp? Sorry, I was caught up in the moment.”

“What do you want, Shawn?”  Giving up on patience, Henry opted for shoving his son until he toppled out of the chair.  Ignoring the yelp when Shawn flopped to the tile, he scooted closer to the desk so he could pull up the report he'd been working on.  Fingers just coming to rest on his keyboard, he scowled at the active game of Pitfall taking up his screen.  He tapped a button but rather than taking him back to the SBPD mainframe, it caused the character to jump into the green shapes he assumed were meant to be alligators.  Behind him, Shawn gasped.

“You just killed my last guy!”

“Be grateful that's all I've killed.” Slapping a few more keys he finally found the right combination to get back to his report.  

Still sitting on the floor, Shawn drew up his knees up and propped his chin on both fists.  Not even managing to type a single word, Henry sighed and swiveled towards his moping son.

“What, Shawn?”

Now that he had the desired attention, Shawn pushed his lower lip out the tiniest bit.  “Jules is busy and she said I can't help with the stakeout cause it's “super stupid important, Shawn” and Gus won't let me borrow the blueberry so I can follow her cause deep down inside I know she wants me to help cause, please, like I don't always make a stakeout better – I mean, who else is going to remember to bring an extra container of cheese dip for the nachos because one cup is just never enough and believe you me you do not want to short cheese a guy packing tear gas...”

Henry held up a hand to cut off the ramble that could easily go on another five minutes.  With his other hand he rubbed at his aching eyes.  Of course Shawn would find out about the sting.  However, Chief Vick had been adamant about keeping him out of it.  Henry had actually lobbied for including his son on the details – the memory of the last big operation that had temporarily cost him his job was not an easily healing wound.  Rather than even attempt reconstructing the word barrage of bitching, Henry latched on to the least pointless detail.

“Where is Gus anyhow?  I thought you two left an hour ago for dinner.”

Shawn shrugged.  “I don't know for certain...  I mean, by now he could be anywhere.  He's always expressed an interest in touring with Alicia Keys...”

“Shawn.”

“We went to Taco Louie's and he insisted on the deep fried beef and bean mini burrito...”

Henry raised his hand again.  Enough said.

“Well whatever you were thinking, I'm still not talking the Chief out of her decision.  You're bored?  How about you work on the burglary case I gave you.”

“Daaaad... the Redbox robberies?” Groaning, Shawn flopped on his back and sprawled dramatically. Officers passing back and forth shot glances at the display and Henry rubbed his face in embarrassment.

“Dammit, Shawn, get off the floor! You look like an idiot!”

Shawn sat up but didn't stand.  Nor was he ready to let go of his latest complaint.

“Come on!  Dad, Redbox?  That is so... not sexy!”

17. Describe a fic that is still in the ‘ideas’ stage.

This one is an Iron Man character exploration regarding Tony’s relationship with Obie and that, with hindsight, he realizes Obie had been grooming him.  It will never cross that crucial line but the potential leaves Tony reeling.  This will be in the same universe as another short fic titled “Simple Math”.  Here’s the bit of writing I’d put together so far:

_____

He'd thought it was bonding; at the time.  His dad had never been one for just hanging out; shooting the shit; telling tales out of school.  No, Pops, when he bothered to interact, led with questions.  “You keeping your grades up?” “You still seeing that floozy?” “When are you going to pull your head out of your ass and grow the hell up?” “You do realize it's my name you're disgracing every time you go on a bender?”

With Obie it was just, easy.  Obie might ask about school but it was always with approval and pride.  He would discuss Tony's conquests as though Tony had climbed Kilimanjaro wearing nothing but underwear and a cape.    

Obie was there when his father wasn't. Which meant that Obie was always there.  The first time he got astoundingly drunk on his father's scotch, Obie was the one to help him hunch over the toilet and vomit expensive, aged booze into the toilet.  Obie was also the one to replace the depleted bottle to keep Howard in the dark.  For a fourteen year old kid still trying to gain his dad's favor, that had meant everything.

He saw his first porn with Obie; sex education ala Traci Lords, three months shy of his fifteenth birthday.  That was the same time he was introduced to weed.  Obie had cautioned him to use it sparingly; didn't want to fry that genius brain, he'd say, and ruffle his hair.  The porn had made him uncomfortable.  Obie had turned it off and told him they could watch whatever Tony wanted.  They'd ended up changing the station to Knight Rider; smoking and munching Cheetos and laughing over their orange fingers.

It was Obie who was there, arm around his shoulders, after his parents died.  He desperately didn't want to sob in front of the man.  Things were so complicated with his dad that all he felt was blinding guilt... as though some part of him had caused this.  But Obie had filled him with bourbon until the emotions got soft around the edges and he'd sat beside the older man, head tipping gradually to the right until he was held up by Obie's bicep. Obie had just slung and arm around him and let Tony pass out while he rubbed a broad hand up and down his arm.

It was strange, now, looking back with adult perspective.  A perspective that included Afghanistan and his intended execution and Obie's arm around his shoulders while he talked about legacy and responsibility while Tony's lungs slowly seized.  He'd taken the time to sit there – arm around Tony's shoulders while one broad hand traveled up and down Tony's bicep – just like when he was a kid and Obie was the whole world.

He'd tried to remember if it had felt so tainted... at the time.  Or if he'd always believed it was love.

Obie had never quite crossed that line. Though hindsight offered a peek into that possibility with enough clarity Tony had fought with his cramping gut for nearly thirty minutes.  He'd staved off vomiting though he was fairly certain his dignity had still been in tatters what with Bruce wandering in on his misery.

19. What’s your favorite character headcanon?

Gosh... It’s funny that when asked the question the first thing that I ponder is “what head canons?? what are characters??? Do I even watch tv???” So I needed to ponder a bit.

As far as it goes my favorite head canons are not typically ones that I myself have come up with.  And going with that maybe the best one I know is for the series, and character, Sherlock.

I’m am 100% all in on Sherlock being on the autism spectrum.  Yes, I know this is attributed to MANY characters but consider the fact that those reasons have a ton of validity.  Sherlock has very strong indications of being on the spectrum and having read quite a number of essays on the subject, many of which were written by people who are also on the spectrum, I’m completely convinced.  It’s to the point I don’t even like calling it a “head canon” as that implies it’s only a fan concept and therefore has less likelihood.  It just feels so deliberate with that character.  

So going off from that I would say, in a more general sense, my favorite head canons are they type where we can discover neurologically atypical traits in characters - especially heroes.  Too long anyone neurologically divergent is portrayed either as a victim or, FAR FAR worse, as the “crazed villain” and frankly that is disgusting.  So it is beyond refreshing to suddenly have this amazing, brilliant, layered person who also displays autistic traits.  In going back over characters that I’ve loved most there are many who have traits of this sort that, only in hindsight, do I recognize.  Just a few off the top of my head; Malcolm Bright, Shawn Spencer (100% ADHD), Rapunzel, Rick Simon (remember him? lol), Adrien Monk (his OCD was very deliberate), as well as characters who’ve developed trauma after horrific events such as, well, most MCU characters but particularly Tony Stark and Stephen Strange.  Malcolm Bright also very much was built from trauma but I also am convinced there are neurologically atypical traits at play.  

Thank you so much for the great ask!!