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tinyyoungblood · 4 years ago

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pillow fort tragedy | peter parker

summary: what do you do when you have the entire compound to yourself? that’s right, you build a gigantic pillow fort with your boyfriend and the two dudes you have to babysit—an enhanced ex-soviet assassin and the god of thunder from outta space. good luck with that.

pairing: peter parker x avenger!reader

warnings: language, fluff, tiny bit of conflict and mention of injury

word count: 2.6 k

a/n: absolute crack fic lmao enjoy! x

* * *

It was another Sunday at the Compound which meant that something completely stupid had to go down at some point. This time, it was a real team effort and Steve would’ve surely been proud to some extent. Only, Steve wasn’t there and if he were, all of this wouldn’t have happened in the first place, which probably would’ve been better for everybody involved. Wherever you looked, miles and miles of pillows and blankets covered what used to be the comfort of their home. Now, it was a new empire.

Turning on the comm in your ear, you continued squeezing through the narrow passage of blankets that were poorly draped over some wobbly chairs and shelves. “Guys? Pete, can you hear me?” No answer. For a second, your back touched a blanket and the whole interior started to wobble, making you hold your breath. Who would’ve thought that a highly trained assassin and an invincible God were absolutely terrible at building something as simple as a pillow fort? Hah, not you.

It all started at 11 a.m. sharp when the others left for a mission that neither you nor Peter were allowed to join, but that wasn’t anything new. The two of you were used to it and almost always found something to occupy your time with. The same thing couldn’t be said for Bucky and Thor though, who were both incredibly offended to be treated like “dense punks”. Dense punks as in Peter and you. But then again, the only reason you both weren’t allowed to tag along was your age.

The former was denied because he kept forgetting to put down the toilet seat despite various warnings on Cap’s side and death threat’s on Nat’s and the latter wasn’t allowed to join because of the smell coming from his room that was almost tearing off the wallpaper in the hallway. They were practically grounded which was hilarious, especially since this was quite a rare combination of team members that the Compound had never witnessed before. So, to break the ice and get properly acquainted, Peter had the revolutionary idea to build a pillow fort with every godforsaken pillow, blanket and bedsheet that the Compound had to offer.

And so it began. Every bed, except for Thor’s because you were almost 100% sure that something lived underneath it, was brutally stripped off its covers and used to build the most atrocious and unsteadiest one of its kind. From the Common room to the elevator, every square meter was covered. Your heart race had honestly never been as high as when you tried to get yourself something to drink after having to dodge every pillow tower on your way to the kitchen. You still managed to end up with a wet shirt and a swollen ankle.

It was honestly all fun and games until the games turned into the mission of their lives. Peter had jokingly commanded them to not let this fort go down, under any circumstances—a stupid thing to say to the Winder Soldier and the King of Asgard. And it wasn’t because of their admirable determination and ambition, no—it was because both of them were stubborn idiots who would never dare lose a game.

And from there on, it kind of went downhill. Things started to escalate, highly expensive items were shattered, people were thrown, pillow fights happened inside the pillow fort—it was awful and you were just glad that nothing had caught on fire yet. Suddenly the subtle ‘click’ in your ear made you halt and you listened carefully. “Y/N? Babe, can you hear me?” Peter’s voice was shaky and you hastily answered. “Yes, I—I can hear you, Peter.” He let out a long sigh, relief flooding over his aching limbs. “Oh, thank god, you’re still alive—Where are you? Are you okay?” You nodded eagerly and looked around. “I’m fine…but I think I’m lost. Actually, I have no idea where I am. The tiles all look the same. Stupid Tony and his stupid monochronic taste in architecture,” you mumbled under your breath and you could hear him chuckle.

“Okay, that’s fine. Your ankle’s still swollen, right? Don’t move it, we’ll come get you. I think I can hear your heartbeat—“ He paused for a moment and you thought he expected some kind of reaction so you hesitantly responded, “…Aww?”

“Hm? No, that—sorry, Thor is holding an inaugural speech and he just started to list off his childhood best friends and one of them, you won’t believe it, is called Bob.” He snickered on the other side of the line and you furrowed your brows. “Bob?” He hummed. “Oh, well. Uhm, anyway, why exactly is Thor holding a speech again?”

“Oh, he just pronounced himself King of Blankard.”

“…Come again?”

“Blankard? Because it’s a pillow fort? But we also used blankets? And Pillowgard just doesn’t have—”

“—the same ring to it. Got it.” You glanced in each direction of the tunnel but it seemed like you were still the only one in this area. “Peter, when are you guys going to get here?” He didn’t respond and the only thing you heard was a slow clap and a whistle. You rolled your eyes. Your boyfriend was cheering for the new King of Blankard so you might as well have to start thinking about ways to fend for yourself once dusk would fall. You heard some shuffling before his voice came back. “Sorry, babe, I just assumed it’s bad manners to interrupt a God while they’re monologuing.”

It wasn’t biologically possible for you to roll your eyes any harder but you made it work.

“Just get here.” You sighed and he smooched a kiss into your ear. Your ankle started to pulse so you decided to sit down for a while until they would find you.

A few minutes passed and you finally heard distinct chatter. Crawling toward it, you felt like a big toddler when Peter’s eyes locked with yours and lit up. “Baby!” He cupped your face with both hands and excitedly planted kisses all over your face, making you giggle. Parting from you, you shot Thor a smile who gave you a friendly nod. “Please, do not expect a greeting of that same manner on my behalf, Lady Y/N.”

You laughed. “That’s totally cool, Thor, don’t worry.” Leaning forward to look past Peter, you realized that Bucky wasn’t with them. “We’ve lost him,” Peter explained as he watched your face turn into pure horror.

“…To death?”

He almost choked on air. “Dear god, no. He took a wrong turn and now we can’t find him. He’s still very much alive…I think.” You nodded swiftly and glanced at your watch. “Okay, guys, it was really fun while it lasted but I need to get to my room now to send in that Biology paper. And maybe put some ice on this bad boy.” You gestured to your ankle but they stared at you blankly.

“What?”

“You can’t get through the hallway, Lady Y/N.”

“What?” You repeated yourself, brows knitted. “Why?”

“Blanket collapse. Kind of like an avalanche,” Thor explained and you stared at him in disbelief.

“Guys, I don’t want to play anymore. I really have to hand in the paper now. The deadline’s in 10 minutes.”

“But you can’t get through.” Peter tried to reason.

“What do you mean? It’s blankets and pillows. You just…” You gestured a sweeping motion. “…push it aside.”

He pouted. “But then the fort will collapse.”

“Peter, I don’t care.” You sucked in a sharp breath to speak calmly. “Can’t we just tear the fort down?”

“No!!” The two suddenly shouted horrified as if you had just suggested to run over a puppy. The terror on your face turned blank.

“…What?”

“Y/N, I love you, but I swore to Thor that, as a rightful citizen of Blankard, I would put my life on the line for this fort. It’s my home now and he even made me swore over a pillow and everything, it was really cool, you should’ve seen it.” Thor nodded proudly.

You pinched the bridge of your nose to stop the steam from coming out your ears. “Okay, how about this? I’m not a citizen of Blankard, right?” Your laugh edged on insanity. “So I could just…” You imitated the sweeping motion again. “…right?”

Not meeting your gaze, Peter fidgeted with his hands. “Well…”

You let your head fall back with a groan. “Peter!”

“I’m sorry, okay! But you’re technically one of the Founding Fathers,” he explained sheepishly and you wanted to pulverize him. Your glare sent shivers down his spine. “Peter Benjamin Parker, I am not going to miss my deadline because of a pillow fort. Now, get me…to my…room.” With every word you inched closer to him until you were pressed flush against his chest, piercing eyes boring into his soul.

He gulped and didn’t found the right words, or any words really, to escape his mouth so he just nodded stiffly. Racking his brain with all the movies he had ever watched, Peter came up with a quick idea. “Okay, how about this…” As he started to ramble about his plan, you took notice of Thor who was comfortably sitting behind Peter while stretching out his arm with an open palm. You’ve seen that movement far too many times and thus knew exactly what he was doing.

Catching you look at him, he smiled brightly at you while giving you a friendly wave. You waved back and averted your gaze back to your boyfriend.

“…So once I’m outside, I can easily climb through your bedroom window, open your laptop and turn in the paper for you. There’s no way that we could fuck that up, right?” He laughed nervously and you had to suppress your shit-eating grin.

“Sorry to disappoint, Pete, but looks like Thor’s already on that case. Don’t worry about it.”

With furrowed brows, he whipped around and you could swear you saw his soul escape his body. “Thor, NO!!”

But it was too late. Like domino stones, each and every pillow started to collapse and pull the blankets with it. Everything was happening in slow motion as Thor realized what he had done and once Mjolnir was in his hand, he quickly scooped you up and threw you on his shoulder. Peter landed on the other one and with both of you protesting, he ran away from the falling pillows and toward the elevator. Right at the doorway where the paths were lower, he let the both of you fall to the ground, screaming “CRAWL!!”.

Doing as told, you crawled as fast as you could in front of them, ignoring the sharp ache in your ankle but once you rounded the corner, you bumped into a hard chest. It was a very confused Bucky. His hair was tousled, he had a scratch to his cheek and overall looked like he came back from wrestling a bear. In unison, the three of you yelled “CRAWL!!” and he whipped around to lead the way.

It was all for nothing though. The walls around you started to give in and in the blink of an eye, four Avengers were buried under a pile of pillows and blankets.

It was silent for a second, no one comprehended what just happened. In some way, it was like the deadly silence that followed after defeat—a battlefield of buried hopes and duvets.

But you couldn’t help it and started laughing.

Of course, it was muffled but you laughed hard. The realization that you had missed your deadline because of a pillow fort that you built with earth’s best defenders was comically genius to you. Your belly shook with laughter while tears brimmed your eyes and you knew you were seconds away from running out of oxygen when suddenly the distinct ‘ding’ of the elevator caught your attention and your laughter abruptly died down.

Peter caught your eye as he suddenly looked…very excited? He wasn’t sure what part of his biological whereabouts made him feel this spur of adrenaline for being busted, maybe it was the teenage set of rebellious hormones, but it was for sure questionable.

Rising with the others, an all too familiar voice bellowed from the hallway. “WHAT THE HELL.”

A faint ‘Language…” followed and the corners of your mouth quirked up. Dizzily looking around the room, you had to bite back your laughter again.

It truly was like a battlefield. The others were scattered close to you on the ground, still halfway buried under a few layers while sharing silent looks of fear. Well, except for Peter maybe, who looked like he was standing in line for a roller coaster.

The footsteps came closer and within a second, they all stood at the doorway, still geared and everything. As expected, Tony’s eyes roamed through the room with bewilderment plastered on his face. Steve just portrayed pure confusion whereas Nat and Sam both had an amused smirk dangling on their lips, some might even say they were impressed.

When Tony’s eyes landed on the four of you, sitting in the middle of the room, looking like lost puppies who had no idea what maniac instincts overtook them to create this beautiful mess, he was speechless. Tony Stark was speechless.

The others glanced at him sideways, anticipating another explosion but instead, he looked like 10 years were capped off his life and he let out a long sigh. “…Pillow fort?”

The four of you nodded silently. Another moment of silence followed but this time, he had just accepted his fate. That’s what he signed up for when he left two men-children and two actual children at home all by themselves. This one was on him really.

When he noticed that the others were staring at him and expecting him to handle the mess, he almost looked offended.

“She's crying—“ He pointed at you and then Peter. “He's excited, I'm confused, nothing new. Now are we going or not?” Not waiting for an answer, he whirled around and left the room. Sharing a collective look of confusion, Steve informed with an amused smile. “We’re going out to eat Shawarma. Let’s go.” He nodded in the direction of the elevator and walked away, Nat and Sam following closely behind.

The room was silent again as Bucky picked himself up and Thor dusted off his clothes, both avoiding each other’s gaze. It was like nobody wanted to admit or even believe what had happened for the past few hours. Peter helped you up and wrapped your arm around his neck to steady you before leaving a soft kiss on your cheek. You smiled at him and together you walked, or more likely limped, toward the elevator. At the doorway, the four of you halted and turned back around to let your gaze fall on the remains of a fun afternoon. And just like that, it was another Sunday at the Compound.

* * *

this was so much fun to write and if i could make even one of you smile just a little bit with this one, it would absolutely make my day. thank for you reading! i’m playing with the thought of making a mini series just about the chaotic sunday adventures at the compound so a lot of domestic!avengers/au involving boyfriend!peter ofc so make sure to leave some feedback! xx

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nostalgiabones · 4 years ago

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Cuddles are the Best Medicine // L.H

I feel like I’ve been writing this forever but finally, here is a blurb that was requested by anon, of reader and Luke taking care of Bella when she’s poorly! Thank you as always to @calumrose for helping me with this & reading it over and over again, and for the title since thinking of one is the bane of my life lmao. This is the first blurb I’ve done for my Adoption AU, but I’d love to do more so please let me know if you have any requests here! And feedback is appreciated as always.💘

If you haven’t read any of my Adoption AU before, find them here: Missing Piece & As Time Goes By

“Do you want more of your water, Bella?”

Luke is met with a gentle head shake against his chest, indicating that the poorly toddler wanted nothing other than to remain there for the foreseeable future. It had been around a month since she officially became a Hemmings — since you and Luke were granted the adoption order to become her legal guardians.

“She’s gonna get dehydrated if she doesn’t have any liquids,” You murmur, standing up next to where Luke was holding her on the sofa. “Especially if she keeps throwing up.”

It was the first time she’d had a stomach bug since she came home with you and Luke — you’d only ever had to deal with minor colds and an ear infection, but never her throwing up like this. It had started earlier that day, first her rejecting her favourite lunch, before she had thrown up all over Luke’s shirt. It had shocked her, definitely scared her — hence why she had been so reluctant to eat or drink anything since, in case she was sick again.

“Are you sure you don’t want a little bit, baby? Just a small sip,” Luke coaxes her, warm palms smoothing up her back as she hid her face in his neck, as if it would make her invisible. “I promise it won’t make you sick.”

She whines against his shoulder, her skin hot against his — like a small furnace in his lap. Her fever hadn’t gone down for a few hours, and dressed in nothing but a diaper and a thin tshirt — she was uncomfortable. It takes her a moment but she pushes away from Luke, sitting up in his lap, holding her hand out for the sippy cup full of water so she can have a drink.

“Can I have this?” Luke asks, gesturing to her pacifier. As you were approaching her second birthday, you and Luke knew it would soon be the time to wean her away from her favourite comfort — she wasn’t ready just yet. Especially not when she was ill. Whenever the time came, it would be a difficult process for you all. “You can have it back when you have a drink.”

She places the yellow pacifier in his hand, taking the sippy cup and reluctantly having a drink. It’s as if she realises how thirsty she is as soon as she has a small drink, taking bigger gulps.

“Slow down, bubs, we don’t want it to make your tummy hurt again, do we?” You warn her in a soft voice, as she stops drinking the water and passes the sippy cup back to you. She looks back at Luke, opening her mouth so he can pop the pacifier back between her lips, where she wanted it to be. “Is that better?”

“My poor baby,” Luke whines sympathetically, pushing her thick curls away from her flushed face so they didn’t bother her. Her forehead burned under his touch, his much cooler hands providing relief as she leaned into his touch. “I’m sorry you don’t feel good, Bella. Is there anything that will make you feel happy? Do you want to watch Belle?”

Disney movies were Luke’s go to whenever he wanted to cheer Bella up — Beauty and the Beast being her favourite, since Belle was the princess with the name closest to hers.

“Where’s piggy?” She asks behind her pacifier, looking around the room for the sweet dog. Luke smiles at her request, guessing she was asleep on your bed upstairs, where she usually was. Luke whistles, calling her name and waiting to hear her paw prints trudging down the stairs.

“There she is.” Luke pats her as she jumps up on the sofa next to him, her head landing on his thigh, close to where Bella was sitting. Bella’s tired eye lit up at the sight, her own hand gently tapping Petunia’s head as she relaxed, now that she was there. “Did you come to help Bella feel better?”

Bella yawns behind her pacifier, snuggling against Luke as he runs a hand through her hair. He flicks on the TV, turning on her favourite Disney movie as quiet background noise, hoping to distract her from how poorly she felt.

Fatigue seems to take over her as her eyes flutter, small fists rubbing at her face as if it would keep her awake. Luke could tell she was fighting sleep — a sight he had seen and dealt with many times before.

“Get some sleep, okay? I’m right here.” Luke whispers to her, kissing her forehead. She wraps her arms around his middle — rubbing her cheek against the soft material of his hoodie as she tries to get comfortable. He keeps up the soft circles on her back, knowing it would help her fall asleep.

It took a bit of persistence, but he finally felt her breathing even out as she fell asleep, letting her body rest.

***

“Does she still feel hot?”

Luke nods as he very gently touches her forehead, not wanting to startle her as she sleeps. Her nap had lasted for just over an hour, which was how long she usually slept for in the afternoon, yet there was no sign of her waking up anytime soon. He shifts her gently, his lips brushing the top of her head as he holds her.

“I don’t want to wake her up.” Luke pouts at you in concern, gently resting his cheek on top of her head. He knows she’ll get upset, especially since she felt so unwell before falling asleep — she finally looked comfortable, and he didn’t want to disturb that. “I think we’re about to have a very grumpy toddler.”

“I know, it’s been three hours since she last had her medicine though, her fever isn’t going down.” You tell him, gently pushing her curls away from her face as she fusses in Luke’s arms a little. “She can go back to sleep after if she wants to.”

Any form of routine went out of the window when she didn’t feel well — you knew her napping for this long in the afternoon would mean she wouldn’t sleep well in the night, but you had to do everything to make sure she felt okay, and if that meant her napping all afternoon — that’s what she’d do.

Luke nods, sighing in reluctance before he gently taps Bella’s shoulder, shaking her ever so slightly in the hopes of slowly waking her, without startling her. He shifts her slightly in his arms, moving her away from his chest so she would wake up. She instantly clings onto the neck of his hoodie, wanting to stay cuddled up to him.

“Bella,” He murmurs, shaking her shoulder a little as she whined around her pacifier, a hand lifting to rub her eyes. She’s half-awake for a moment before she starts crying, pushing her face into Luke’s shoulder. “I know, I know you were having a good sleep. I’m sorry.”

“No,” She cuddles back up to him, a sad tone in a her voice. “Sleepy.”

“I know you are,” Luke murmurs, pushing her hair away from her face and kissing her forehead. Her skin burns under his lips. She reluctantly sits up a little and opens her eyes, stretching in his lap. “You need some more medicine though, baby, to make you feel better.”

“No more,” She cries, hiding her face against Luke’s shoulder as if it could stop you from giving the medicine to her. He stands up with her in his arms, rubbing her back as he followed you into the kitchen. “No please.”

“I’m sorry sweetheart,” Luke coos to her as she cries, knowing how much she hates the medicine she’d had three hours precious. The combination of her feeling so unwell along with her sleep being disturbed definitely didn’t help. Luke also felt bad saying that she had to have it when she said no — teaching her consent had been something you tried to focus on. Yet some things, she just had to do. “We can’t even bribe her with food because I don’t want her to throw up again.”

“Listen, Bella.” You get her attention softly, running your finger over her cheek so she’s looking at you. “If you have your medicine, we can go and watch a movie in our big bed, how does that sound? Whatever you want to watch, okay?”

Her whining didn’t stop as you filled the syringe with the correct amount of medicine, handing it to Luke as he gently took her pacifier from her mouth.

“Open up, sweetheart.” Luke coaxed her, his fingertips smoothing up and down her back. She did, reluctantly — her face scrunching up at the taste as she swallowed it. “That’s my girl, I know it’s not nice.”

“Drink please.” She holds her hand out for her sippy cup, wanting to get rid of the unpleasant taste. You handed it to her and she had a drink, soon getting over the medicine. “Bed now?”

“Shall we get you all cosy in your pyjamas? Then we can have a cuddle in our bed.” Luke asks her, starting to head upstairs so he could get her changed. He thought back to when she’d refuse to let him hold her, to when she resisted any kind of comfort from her — he had no idea how you would’ve dealt with her being ill if she still reacted that way with you. It made him feel content that she seeked your comfort when she didn’t feel well. “You’re being so brave, bubba.”

“Piggy cuddle?” She asks, peering over Luke’s shoulder to check whether the smushy dog was following along behind them.

“Yeah, piggy can cuddle with us too.” Luke reassures her, his lips brushing her cheek in a soft kiss.

It wasn’t long before Luke had dressed her in a clean, thin tshirt — knowing her cosy pyjamas wouldn’t help her fever. She was still sleeping in your room — her crib at the end of your bed, where it had been since the night she came home. The time was coming for her to move into her own room, though. Luke didn’t want to think about it — he wasn’t sure he’d be able to fall asleep without being able to look across the room and see Bella right there.

“Doggy, please.” She requests, her voice quiet beneath her pacifier as she spots the well loved dog in her crib, the material worn and limp from the amount of times it had been washed. She wouldn’t sleep without him. Luke picks him up from her crib, along with her blanket, in case she wanted it to cuddle up to. He replies with a soft ‘got it, baby’ before he sets her down on the bed.

He turns down the lamp in the corner of the room, just leaving a gentle glow, enough to be able to see what he was doing. He hadn’t planned on going to bed at 7:00pm, yet he knew Bella needed the comfort, and he was happy to give it to her. You were already sat at your side of the bed, more than happy to join in on the early night.

“Hi, you, come here.” You hold your arms out towards her, cuddling her against your chest as she yawns. Her eyes don’t leave Luke — watching to make sure he wasn’t going anywhere, that he wasn’t leaving. She’s warm in your arms, her cheeks flushed from the fever, eyes heavy from being tired even though she spent most of the afternoon sleeping in Luke’s arms.

Bella waits until Luke climbs under the warm duvet at the other side of the bed, before she pushes away from your chest and crawls in between the two of you. She rests her head on Luke’s shoulder, her legs splayed out diagonally — little toes pressed against your arm as she gets comfortable. Luke makes sure she has her dog and blanket close to her. She rubs her face against the soft material, finding the sensation soothing.

“You should go and take a shower, babe.” You whisper to Luke, noticing how Bella’s eyes had finally closed and she was drifting off to sleep. Luke looked almost as tired as Bella. He had held her all day, been at her side and let her nap on him without a break. “You’ve had her all day. She’s nearly asleep anyway.”

“I don’t want to move her.” Luke replies, although a shower does sound like a nice idea. He wasn’t complaining that Bella had been poorly, and he loves taking care of her — it just takes a lot out of him too. “Do you think she’ll stay asleep?”

“I got her,” You whisper, gently moving her so she’s resting in the cradle of your arm, against your shoulder. Luke slips out from the bed, waiting for a moment until he knows Bella has settled down again. “Go, babe.”

Luke manages to get himself into the bathroom and turn on the shower until Bella realises he’s not there anymore. She sits up from your arms, looking to Luke’s side of the bed to see where he’s gone — a cry slips from her lips when he’s no longer there.

“He’s just in the shower, Bella.” You reassure her, rubbing her back gently as she cries for him, trying to coax her to lay down again. “He’ll be right back. Come here, it’s okay.”

“Come back?” She asks, looking up at you with teary eyes. Her skin is still hot to touch, and she nuzzles into your shoulder when she lays down again, your skin slightly cooler than hers.

“Yeah, he’ll be right back.” You promise, fingers dancing up and down her back lightly to calm her down. You sit together for a few moments more, until you hear the shower shut off, and Luke humming quietly as he heads down the hallway, back to your bedroom.

“Look who’s awake again,” Luke calls out, spotting Bella sat up in the middle of the bed, her eyes immediately lighting up when she sees him. “Were you not having a good sleep? I know you don’t feel good.”

“Hug.” She whines sadly, her fingers spread out as she makes a grabby motion, not stopping until Luke scoops her up and cuddles her against his body.

“I’m right here.” He reassures her, swaying with her in his arms for a moment as she clings to him. He climbs back into the bed next to you, letting her cuddle up to him, her face pressed against his neck as you tuck the duvet around them. “My little cuddle bug.”

“Night night?” She asks, usually the phrase she uses when she’s about to go to sleep. Luke smiles at her sweetness, resting his cheek on top of her head as her eyes begin to flutter again.

“Yeah, get some sleep baby. Good night, we love you.” He murmurs, stroking up and down her back, his thumb drawing soothing circles on the back of her neck as she falls asleep. His own eyes are heavy with tiredness, but as long as Bella is comfortable for the moment — that’s all he wants.

***

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cabinofimagines · 4 years ago

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A Good Scare (Leo Valdez xF!Reader)

A/N: I took longer bc I’m playing among us with my friends sorry lmao Anyway feel free to leave me more spooky requests!! -Danny

Words: 1,220

Request: Can I request a Leo x fem!reader where she decorates Bunker 9 like a haunted house to scare the bejeeses out of him?? Super fluffy and cute and while he is scared at first, he also ends up scaring her and ends with a kiss? Pretty please and thank you! Happy spooky season!

Halloween was a special time for you, mostly because you can be as batshit crazy as you want and people won’t judge you. It’s all about the intention, really, considering your life is already a horror story, at least you can make fun of the silly stories the mortals create to pass the time.

This year though, you’re celebrating with a purpose: Scare your boyfriend.

He told you stories about how he’d dress up and mess with the other kids at foster care (nothing too wild, just pure innocent pranks) and even though he wasn’t a big fan of going door to door asking for candy -mostly because monsters would usually ruin the experience- he was a huge fan of old horror movies. The classics, you may call them.

So of course, what says classic more than a haunted house?

You got tons of help, not only because the place is too huge to cover on your own, but because you discovered most of the campers were quite fond of the festivities. Maybe it had to do with the fact that being demigods in camp, Christmas wasn’t really a big deal, so Halloween was one thing you could celebrate without upsetting the Gods, (and trust me, they get upset easily).

When you finished the decorations you couldn’t help but feel proud, everything looked terrifying, in a good-bad way. The plan was to wait until Leo showed up, and once there Festus would jump out from a massive pile of fake bones, throwing fire onto the air.

You were giddy the whole day, hinting Leo about having a surprise for him back in bunker nine. He seemed excited too, thinking that maybe it had to do with a new set of tools or a surprise dinner date. Those were great.

He wasn’t disappointed when he discovered that wasn’t the truth. Instead, he looked around with his mouth agape, a glint of excitement reaching his gaze.

“Y/N, this looks so cool!”

“I know!” You exclaimed proudly. “I got tons of help, in exchange we’ll be hosting a party here tomorrow, so you better prepare a good costume.”

“That sounds like a win-win situation,” He grinned. “Can I look around?”

You smirked, trying to remain calm as if that wasn’t exactly what you’d been expecting to hear.

“Sure!”

You guided him through the main area, the work tables had been pushed to the side with the exception of a few that would be used the next day to put food and drinks, and some other that had fake corpses on them.

“What’s that?” He pointed to the pile of fake bones.

“Oh, nothing,” You shrugged. “Bunch of props that we couldn’t place elsewhere, maybe tomorrow I’ll put them away.”

“I mean, they kinda look cool here,” Leo walked up to them, examining the pile. “We could grab a few and place them outside the big house– Oh! We could put some outside Hades’ cabin! Bet Nico will love that,” He laughed.

“Bet Nico will love to kick your ass if you do it,” You chuckled.

When Leo bent down to pick up a fake skeleton, Festus erupted from the pile in its own glory, he even added a few dramatic growls and screeches as he shot up fire like a maniac.

Leo let out a terrified scream, he fell on his butt and squirmed away from the pile, the top of his head and his shoulders burst into flames too.

You doubled in laughter, having to support yourself on the table next to you and wishing you could’ve filmed his reaction for later.

“Well done, Festus!” You exclaimed in joy, Festus let out a puff of smoke through his nostrils like a satisfied puppy.

“Wasn’t funny!” Leo exclaimed from his place on the floor, patting the flames on his shoulder so his shirt wouldn’t get all ruined. “I can’t believe you agreed to this, Festus– I’m the one who feeds you, man!”

Festus let out something close to a purr, shaking in a way that looked like laughter.

“Don’t be mad at him, I bribed him,” You stepped closer, still giggling. “Lots of tasty hot sauce and promised to take him out for a ride next weekend.”

You offered your hand to hand and Leo took it with a scowl. He stood up -discretely trying to rub his butt so it would stop hurting- and the tiniest hint of a smile appeared on his face.

“It was a good one, I’ll admit that.”

“Thank you, I’m quite proud,” You beamed.

Leo grabbed you by the waist and pulled you closer for a moment, kissing your lips lovingly.

“So, that party,” He smirked. “Any fun plans in mind?”

***

“The cups are over there!” You told your friends as they entered the bunker, looking around with the same shocked expression Leo had the day before. “And the food is on the next table, have fun!”

The party was a huge success, and the costumes were extremely creative and fun to see, you didn’t make a contest out of it because you thought it would take all the fun away, besides, the younger kids couldn’t match the skills of the oldest, so it was only fair that this first Halloween party would remain entertaining and fun for everyone.

You liked the sound of that, having a party every year could be fun, especially when everything in your life was always changing, something as carefree as a party that would happen every year felt like the right kind of constant.

Leo wasn’t around, but you assumed he was somewhere making sure the guests were happy, after all, he was the life of all parties.

“Hey, Y/N!” Piper called out to you. “Where’s the bathroom?”

“This way!” You guided her to the first hall on the left, three doors deep into the poorly lit space you found the door. “Here…”

You opened the door abruptly, a bloody figured jumped out of the shower, a fake chainsaw being thrown at your face.

You let out a squeal, backtracking and pressing against the door.

Piper cackled behind you, Leo took off the mask, tears of laughter falling down his cheeks as he leaned on the sink, throwing the chainsaw to the floor.

“Gods, I think you just defeated Pan for the most panicky screech ever,” Piper snorted.

“I’d say I can’t believe you teamed up to scare me, but I do believe it,” You frowned. “You guys suck.”

“You mean to say that we succeeded with high marks,” Leo smirked. “C’mon, admit it was a great scare!”

A smile threatened to break your grumpy attitude, you crossed your arms and bit your lip.

“Where did you get the fake blood?”

“It’s cough syrup!” He exclaimed happily, “I’ll be stinking like a drugstore for the rest of the night.”

You laughed at that, shaking your head.

“Okay, it was a great prank,” You pulled him towards you and kissed the tip of his nose. “Can we go back to the party now?”

Leo stared at you with an adoration that kinda looked creepy with his clothes drenched in fake blood.

“You’re really lucky to have a girlfriend that like me that loves to get scared, you know?”

Leo laughed, kissing the top of your head.

“I know.”

#leo valdez x reader #pjo imagine #halloween fest #Danny's writing

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illfoandillfie · 5 years ago

Text

5 Simple Rules For A Successful Fake Relationship: The Perfect Match (Epilogue)

5 SIMPLE RULES MASTERLIST

Pairing: Ben Hardy x Reader

Summery: What happens after you tell Ben you love him?

Warnings: SMUT (18+), oral sex (f receiving, implied male receiving), fingering, nipple play, it’s mostly just fluffy bullshit lmao

Words: 7129

A/N: Epilogue time! Apologies for taking so long to get this written, it’s been a rough few weeks. But we’re finally here!

Taglist: @laedymoon @dtfrogertaylor @vee-ndetta @kellypenac @labessieisallama @deakyclicks @jennyggggrrr @drowseoftaylor @hannafuckingsucks @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming @queenmylovely @supersonicfreddie @taron-egrotten @johndeaconshands @borhapbois

@coni-martina @hardforbenhardy @cubedtriangle @vicouscirce @arianabrashierstuff @pattieboydwannabe @maggieroseevans @theprettyandthereckless

Being in Barcelona with Ben was like having a fresh start. One without intrusive photographers or the pressure of being walking advertisements for a movie. You almost had to physically push Ben out of the hotel on the first morning you were there. He was reluctant to leave you but, being lead actor, couldn’t exactly skip work. At any rate, you wouldn’t let him. It wasn’t so bad spending the day holed up in his suite. You went back to bed after he’d left and then, once properly rested, put music on as you caught up on emails and the like. In the afternoon you popped downstairs to explore the square the suite looked out on, visiting a quaint little bookstore, a shop full of touristy knickknacks, and a cute café that sold maybe the strongest coffee you’d ever had. Having so much time to yourself also gave you a chance to call Felicity and have a long conversation with her, filling her in on exactly what had happened after you got on the plane. She was thrilled to hear it had gone well and took a large part of the credit for herself.

“Afterall, I was the one who told you to get off your arse. If I hadn’t you’d still be crying in bed,” You laughed and conceded she had a point, “but you’re not the only one who gets credit,” “Fine, but it’s like 90% down to me.”

But, even with so much to occupy you, by the end of the day you were eager for Ben to get back, bored of being on your own, ready to have the conversation you’d both been too tired to fully have the previous night. When he di[d finally walk through the door it was obvious he was just as keen to see you. You heard the thump of his backpack hitting the floor just inside the door and then him calling your name. He found you on the couch and rushed up behind you, leaning in for a kiss when you tilted your head back to greet him. “I love being able to do that,” he said softly as he sat down, making you smile. He asked how your day had been as you shuffled closer, letting him drape an arm around you and pull you against his chest. And for a while that was all you talked about, your day and his, everything you’d got up to. His had been a little busier, working with the stunt coordinator and fight choreographer in the morning so they could film the scene in the afternoon. Completely different from the prep you’d done for The Perfect Match, but you could tell how much he enjoyed it from the way he spoke about it. Even if he did end up with a few bruises as proof of his hard work. Before long though you had to address the question hanging over your heads, had to have the talk. It wasn’t an easy conversation. It took some time and meant being open about the previous few months – the insecurities and fears that had kept you from recognising and acting on your feelings, the impact being in the public eye had on you, the pros and cons of dating another actor and, perhaps most importantly, potential challenges you would face because of your previous history. You both readily admitted there’d been some rough moments when you’d handled things poorly and the question had to be asked of if you’d be able to move on from those patches and any wounds they’d caused. Any lingering reservations you had about Ben and his willingness to make it work were quickly put to rest. He was the first to offer up his vulnerabilities, both personal and professional, and discuss the space where they intersected with you. It was all you needed to be fully assured he was in it for the long haul. Of course, you reciprocated his openness with confessions of your own, harder to get out than you’d imagined, but he was patient and leant you a reassuring hand squeeze when you needed it. It wasn’t exactly fun but it was a necessary evil. And by the time you were done you both knew exactly where you stood and were in agreement about how to move forward, making it all worthwhile.

Neither of you felt much like going out afterwards though so you ordered room service, making sure to get a bottle of wine with the food, and celebrated quietly. Ben ran down to the nearest store and bought a few candles to make it seem a little more romantic and promised to take you out on a proper date the next night. “So would that be our first date? Or does everything from before count too?” you asked around a mouthful of food, looking at Ben across the candle lit table. “Huh, good question. I think it counts,” “Really?” you laughed, “I was about to say it doesn’t. It was all planned by other people and not really…real,” “Hey, not everything was planned out for us. That date where we painted mugs was all my idea and, might I add, something I’d thought about specifically to impress you. It was on my list of potential dates in case I got the chance to ask you out after we wrapped. Same goes for that brunch place I took you and the ice skating rink. Also those dates were part of what me fall for you so they kind of have to count.” You had to smile at that, “When did you know?” “Uh,” Ben dropped his gaze to where his hand lay on the table, “Our first date.” “Really?” “I’d already liked you for a while and then you went and decorated a mug with lyrics from the song I heard every time I looked at you.” It wasn’t until after he’d finished speaking that he lifted his eyes again, giving a small shrug. “That’s so ridiculously sweet, Ben, I might have to kiss you about it.” “Well I’m a sweet guy Y/N,” he was almost laughing when you made good on your threat, standing up from your side of the table and nearly pouncing on him. He just pulled you further onto his lap, the dinner forgotten as you revelled in the knowledge that making out was allowed now, encouraged even. “You wanna move this to the bedroom?” Ben asked, illuminated by the dancing flames more than the lights you’d left on. “I don’t normally sleep with a guy on the first date,” you said, pretending to weigh up your options as you twirled a strand of Ben’s hair around your finger. “We just agreed it’s not our first date. Closer to our fifty first probably.” “Hmmm, you make some good points, babe,” His face lit up and you nearly fell of his lap as he sat forward, “are we allowed to do pet names again?” You groaned into his shoulder but he just chuckled “You wanna move this to the bedroom, cuddle bunny?” “I hate you,” “No you don’t,” you could tell he was grinning, even with your face buried in the crook of his neck. “Little bit.” “Aww c’mon cuddle bunny, don’t be like that. I’ll make you feel real good.” “I don’t know Ben, you’ve got a lot to live up to.” “I do?” “You don’t remember? First night I stayed over at yours you made some pretty big claims about what you were capable of. Said if anyone asked I should tell them I came like three times,” you put air quotes around his words. “So you’re saying if I prove that I really am that good, you won’t complain about cuddle bunny or any other nickname I come up with?” “I never said that,” “You basically did and the challenge has been accepted.” You broke into giggles as he pushed you from his lap, only to lurch forward and kiss you, smiling himself. He led you into the next room, discarding clothes along the way.

***

You laughed as you sat on the bed, watching as Ben hopped through the doorway on one foot, trying to kick his pants off his other leg as he went. Your shirt and bra had been lost somewhere between the table and the bed, his shirt discarded even earlier. He gave you a slightly sheepish smile as he finally managed to free himself from the jeans and followed you towards the bed. You leaned back, still on the edge of the bed, propping yourself up on your hands to keep your eyes locked on him and he followed, caught your lips again though softer than before, one hand hovering just above your shoulder, fingertips barely grazing you. It was miles from the first time you’d slept with him, when you’d both been full of alcohol induced confidence and a lack of clear thought. You pushed yourself closer to try and let him know he could be firmer, that you’d like it if he was. Instead he pulled back even more. “Is something wrong? Do you not want to do this?” “No, no I absolutely do. Just,” he smiled again, the shy half smile that made him seem even more boyish than usual, “you’re gorgeous and I kinda can’t believe this is happening. Again. Just give me a second to let it sink in.” “Benjamin I swear, if you start crying,” “I’m not going to cry,” he chuckled, “probably.” You waited, watched his eyes roam over every inch of you from your hairline to your waist, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake. Finally he kissed you again, already almost breathless, his hand cupping your jaw as if he had to work up to touching you elsewhere. Slowly his touch fell lower, neck, collarbone. When he grazed your breast he pulled his hand back again but you hummed at the contact and he replaced it. You stopped holding yourself up, let yourself lay back against the mattress as his lips moved to your throat, his thumb teasing the nipple it found to a stiff peak. It left your hands free to wrap around him, hold him against you. “Do you mind if I leave some marks?” “Go ahead,” you said, far more concerned about losing the feeling of his mouth on you than what would be left when he was done. You felt him nuzzle his nose against the underside of your jaw, and then a tingle down your spine as he found a spot to leave a large purple bruise, close to where he’d first given you a hickey at your request. You made a low hum and tilted your head to the side, exposing more of your neck to him, and he delighted in filling the space with more marks. Three along the column of your neck, one on your sternum and one on your right breast. “How’s it look?” you asked, as he raised his head from your chest. “Perfect. But that could just be because your boobs are right in my face. Very nice view.” You gave him a light pinch for his cheek but he didn’t react, far more interested in creating another hickey on your chest. “Hope you weren’t planning on filming any topless scenes anytime soon,” he mumbled, moving to repeat the process on your other breast, “makeup’ll have a hell of a time covering all these.”

By the time Ben was ready to continue his trail lower you were aching for more. Your underpants were slick with your need, nipples hard as Ben’s saliva caught the cold air he blew over them. Again you were struck by how different to last time it was. Then it had been fast, only minutes between being pushed up against the door and having his fingers in you. But now? Now Ben was taking his time. You understood why, of course. Back then you’d been trying to reach the end before either of you could think for half a second about it being a bad idea. You’d been drunk and clueless about how much you’d both wanted it to happen. All you’d had to do was palm him over his pants and he was raring to go. Not so much this time. He was certainly worked up, you’d found as much when you’d tried to cop a feel. But he stopped you before you got too far, laced his fingers through yours so you couldn’t stroke him off. He responded to your whine with a line about having a reputation to live up to and then let go of your hand as he slipped off your lap to the floor. He made you wait as he tugged your pants from your legs and then left another mark on your hip. You opened your legs wider for him, earning a small nip against your thigh. “Wish I’d done this for you last time,” he said softly, kissing the spot that was still tingling from the scrape of his teeth. You propped yourself up on your elbows to watch, “If you’d done this last time I’d have confessed my love a whole lot faster. Could-coluld’ve saved me the cost of the flight here.” You voice shook as he pressed his tongue to your soaked underwear and you briefly wished you’d packed some actual lingerie and not just your every-day sensible cotton knickers, but Ben clearly didn’t mind. “Cute panties,” he said between sucks through the material, “that wet patch from your pussy or my mouth?” He laughed as he pulled them off you, dropping them unceremoniously to the side as he sat up higher on his knees.

The next thing you knew was Ben’s fingers on either side of your lips, pulling you open. He glanced up at you, grinned when you whined softy, didn’t break eye contact as he dragged his tongue over you. No more build up, no more playful comments as he took his time exploring you. Just his mouth on you, determinedly pushing you to the edge. You let your head fall back with a squeak as he nudged your clit with his nose, following it up by sucking the nub into his mouth, pulling a moan from you. Your breath caught when he slid two fingers along your slit, coating them in your arousal and a whiny expletive was your response to one entering you. Ben pulled back and gave you a wink as he added another finger. You’d have told him off for being so cocky if you hadn’t felt so good. Instead you fell back to the mattress completely. “That feel good baby?” He asked between licks, stretching you out, trying to find the same spot he’d reached last time. “So good Ben,” “I love the way you say my name.” He pressed a third finger into you, shifted the angle slightly, and without thinking you twisted a hand into his hair, let him hear his name again. He hummed though you weren’t sure what caused it, only that it felt incredible, his lips wrapped around your clit. With soft encouragement he made you tip over the edge, squirming under him as you rode it out. He was gentle when he pulled his fingers from you and left a kiss against your thigh, waiting for you to come back to earth before he began gloating. “That’s one. How do you want the next? Same thing?” It took you a moment to figure out what he meant but he filled the time by kissing a path back up to your lips, shorter than the trip down had taken. “Well? What next?” he asked again when it seemed like you weren’t going to reply. “I could blow you,” you said, once again dropping your hand to try and rub him through his underwear. “Save that for another time. I’ve got a promise to make good on and an adorable nickname to give you.” “I was hoping you’d say that. Really want you in my pussy.” Ben laughed and leaned in to kiss you again, evidence from your orgasm still on his lips and chin, before pushing himself away to finish undressing. You watched him closely, taking in the V that was exposed and the light trail of hair leading under his waistband, the way his thumbs hooked into the material, the slightly theatrical wiggle he made to shake his pants off, how the second he was free of the fabric his hand came up to stroke over his length, seeking some brief relief. He turned away to grab a condom and you made yourself comfortable on the bed, moving to lay back against the pillows rather than hanging over the edge. And then Ben was practically diving on top of you, making you giggle as he kissed you again and again and again. Until he stopped to sit back on his legs, tearing open the condom with his teeth. “Can I?” you asked, pulling your lip between your teeth. “Sure,” As Ben nodded you sat forward, took the condom from him and closed your other hand around him. “Shhhhit,” he breathed out,” “C’mon babe, ‘m already h-hard. Just wanna be in you.” You hummed in agreement but took your time rolling the latex down his shaft as you pulled him into another kiss, thoroughly enjoying the noises he made in response. Soft throaty sounds, little whines muffled by your lips. You would have been happy just jerking him off except for the needy throbbing between your legs that made you hyper aware of how empty you were. “Lie back for me,” he said softly as soon as you pulled your hand away. You did as requested, settling back against the pillows once more. Ben nudged your legs open wider and finally sank into you, both of you gasping at the feeling. You moaned softly when he slowly pulled back and thrust forward again, wrapped your legs around him because it was the only way you could think of to get him closer. Carefully he took one of your hands in his, laced his fingers through yours and then repeated it with the other hand, holding them against the mattress as he fucked into you. His forehead dropped to yours as he let a curse slip into the air, “Didn’t a-appreciate your pussy enough last time. So fucking tight.” You couldn’t think how to respond, just squeezed his hands, your breath catching in your throat as he rolled his hips against you. He kept the pace steady as he caught your lips again, less coordinated kisses that didn’t always get you full on the mouth as you moved with each measured thrust. Each one seemed to make it harder for you to breathe, your breaths coming in short pants, often accompanied by small whiny noises as you felt yourself getting close again. “Yeah?” Ben asked against your ear, a response to a particularly drawn out whine, “that good, huh?” If you’d been able to form coherent sentences you would have come up with some sort of witty way to tell him you needed more stimulation to actually get off. Instead all you managed to do was stumble through the words close, please, more as he nibbled on your earlobe. “Show me,” he rasped, releasing one of your hands so you could slip it between your bodies. I wasn’t long before the speed of your fingers on your clit outstripped Ben’s movement, your growing need to finish pushing you to rub faster, press harder. He groaned into your neck as you finally hit the edge and pulsed around him, pulled out before it became too much. You let your legs fall from where you’d hooked them around him though you whined at the loss. “Don’t worry,” he said softly as he took your hand and lifted it from your cunt, “more where that came from.” Ben pulled your hand towards him, leaning in to close the gap and suck your fingers into his mouth. You were sure you could have cum from that alone if he hadn’t already made you cum twice.

It didn’t make it easy to catch your breath or calm down entirely, but Ben was content to wait, thoroughly cleaning your fingers before he released them. He pressed a kiss to the inside of your wrist before he let you take your hand back. You let out a shaky breath as you looked up at him and almost laughed, “Jesus,” He stroked your leg gently, “Still one more to go, if you’re up for it. Not too sensitive?” “A little but I should be okay.” “Good. I really wanna give you that nickname. Annoy everyone else with how fucking adorable we are” “Shouldn’t have reminded me what the stakes are, maybe I am too sensitive,”

“What if I said I just wanted to fuck you until I cum then? More acceptable?” That did make you laugh, “Much more acceptable.” Ben grinned, his tongue darting out from between his teeth, and then readjusted your position. His arm wrapped around your hips, pulling you up into the air, as he leaned on the other and slid back in, deeper than before. “This okay?” “Y-yeah, yes,” As soon as he knew you were okay with the new position he began moving, faster than before. The angle he held you in meant he was hitting your sweet spot consistently which, aside from feeling good, meant your clit got a bit of a break. It felt even better when he dropped his head forward and gently tugged on your nipple with his teeth. You brought one hand up to grab his hair as he switched to soothing the nipple with his tongue. You had a hard time getting out anything other than a few curses and his name as his thrusts became more urgent but Ben had no trouble telling you how good you felt. Well, some trouble. His words came out stuttered and breathless and interrupted by curses of his own or sometimes muffled by your breasts. But that was a turn on in itself. Hearing Ben losing control, coming apart, because of you. It was enough to make you want to cum faster so you could hear him moan through his own release. You remembered what he sounded like last time and were eager to hear it again. So once again you let your fingers find your clit, shivering at the slight discomfort as you tried to match Ben’s rhythm. “God I’m gonna,” you managed to choke out, fingers tightening in Ben’s hair. “P-please Y/N, cum. I ne-ed you to cum.” Your voice caught in your throat as you tipped over the edge again, Ben doing his best to hold you up as he lasted about a second longer, pretty moans spilling from his lips.

***

Afterwards you could barely find it in you to move. You stumbled on jelly legs towards the bathroom as Ben cleared away the condom and straightened the sheets, ready for you to curl up with him. You had just enough energy to fall into bed and lean your head on his chest. He pulled the covers over your legs and stroked your hair with one hand, his fingers catching in the odd tangle though he was careful not to pull too hard. His other hand smoothed up and down your arm, so gently it took you a few passes to notice. He was quiet for a while, watching you relax against him. And then, seemingly out of nowhere, “Think that means I win, right cuddle bunny? Or do you prefer honey bunch? Snuggle bug? Sugar bear? I could go on,” “I think cuddle bunny might actually be the lesser of all those evils,” you mumbled. “You sure that’s not cause you got used to it and now you kinda like it?” You gave a non-committal hum in response. Ben’s chest shook as he laughed but he protested when you made to sit up, assuring you he liked having you leaning on him like that, “Told you before, I like being the boyfriend and what kind of a boyfriend would I be if I didn’t let you use me as a pillow?” You couldn’t help but smile when you heard Ben refer to himself that way, happily settling back against him. He was right, the title suited him. You couldn’t wait to introduce him as such to Felicity and your other friends.

You stayed in Barcelona with Ben for a few weeks. Once or twice you snuck a peek at a gossip blog or a twitter hashtag, but most people’s attention seemed to be diverted from you onto other unlucky couples. There were a few threads about you not being home and a handful of photos of Ben and other cast mates taken from their Instagram accounts, sometimes accompanied by speculation of if their relationship was purely professional, but nothing much else. You were both thankful for that. It was easier to find your feet as an actual real couple without being hounded about it or seeing speculation about yourselves. You were free to visit restaurants and tourist spots on dates, explore the city together on days Ben wasn’t filming, just be more or less normal. A few times you accompanied Ben to set or out with the rest of the cast, listening in as they teased him for how much happier he was now that you’d arrived. There were a couple of sticky beak questions about the breakup the first time you joined them for dinner, but you laughed it off as nothing more than misinformed rumours and they readily believed you. Aside from being contractually obligated to keep the secret, it was just easier to pretend the previous few months had been real than try to explain it all. Of course, pretending was made all the easier by Felicity and Joe knowing. Joe had been happy when Ben told him the good news. He’d been a little annoyed too and threated Ben with the silent treatment, claiming it’s what he deserved for being so stupid, the sudden click of him hanging up startling you both. Ben’s phone rang again about thirty seconds later as Joe called back to claim responsibility for your reunion. “I totally knew you idiots liked each other and if I hadn’t helped, Y/N never would have got to Spain.” Ben leaned in to where his phone rested on the table, speaker on, “If you knew why didn’t you tell me she was into me?” “Pretty sure I tried! But you were too hung up on being all heartbroken to listen to me.” “Umm incorrect,” “Should have heard yourself man, boo hoo Y/N doesn’t love me like I love her, wah wah wah. Didn’t want to hear anything else.” Ben flashed you a disapproving look when you let out a snort of laughter and then turned back to the phone, “You’re such a dickhead,” “Call me cupid, Benny boy, I’m the reason you’re not crying in the shower anymore.” “You’re fucking full of it, cupid,” “Go on Y/N, tell him I’m right,” “Well,” you said, trying not to laugh again, “Joe did tell me where to find you,” “Exactly!” came the shout from the phone, “Y/N, I’ll give you some of the credit for actually flying to Spain, but It’s like 85% down to me.” “You should meet my friend Felicity. You’d get along.”

On quieter days when everyone was doing their own thing and neither of you felt much like leaving the suite, you’d sit around and help Ben learn his lines or stretch over his lap and work on a crossword puzzle together. Although, that was if you made it out of bed. Ben ran through his condoms in the first week you were there, both of you eager to make up for the missed opportunities and all the time you’d spent pining for each other. More than once he came back to the hotel to find you wearing nothing but one of his shirts, which invariably ended with him between your legs in one way or another. Or, when he was flushed and sweaty from whatever action scene he’d been filming that day, he’d slyly announce he needed a shower and suggest you join him. But eventually the real world called, quite literally, in the form of Mary letting you know you’d got the part in the witch movie. It deserved a celebratory drink out at a bar the cast had found, where you and Ben riled each other up so much you had no choice but to relieve the tension the minute your door was shut behind you. And then again first thing the next morning. Unfortunately, you couldn’t stay more than a few days after that. You had to fly back home and begin prepping for your new role. Thankfully it was being filmed around London, saving you from having to head out to the US straight after getting home from Spain. But it did mean leaving Ben, an occurrence neither of you were thrilled about, feeling like you’d not had as much time together as you would have liked. You decided to do something special for your last night so Ben booked a table at a nearby restaurant. He met you there straight from set, wearing nice pants and a dressy shirt rather than the trackpants and ratty tee you'd seen him in that morning, where you surprised him with a bouquet of flowers similar to those he’d given you on your make-up date so long before. “I love them,” Ben laughed, kissing your cheek as he pulled you into a hug, “I think the colours make my eyes pop,” You playfully shoved him away towards the restaurant but he grabbed your hand and pulled you against him. He was about to kiss you when a familiar clicking sound distracted him. Both you and Ben looked around, surprised and confused, and saw a young woman walking down the street, fingers quickly taping against her phone. Ben ushered you inside the restaurant and, as soon as you took your seats, pulled out his phone. “Bad news. She tweeted it.” “Guess that means the honeymoon’s over,” you sighed. “And we were so close too. Fucking busted with about 10 hours to go.” “Oh well. S’pose everyone was gonna find out anyway. If it wasn’t now it would have been in a few weeks when you get back home.” “Not like we aren’t used to it. So how about,” he poured you both a glass of water from the bottle on the table, “a toast. To being so fucking interesting the whole world wants to know if we’re fucking.” You laughed as you clinked your glass against his a took a sip.

The pre-production part of your new movie kept you busy which had its pros and cons. On one hand it was tiring and a lot of new information to take in. On the other it kept you distracted from the distance between you and Ben and the barrage of questions you were receiving about him daily. You met the women who were playing your sisters and spent a lot of time rehearsing with them, particularly focused on learning how to pronounce the spells you’d be casting and the names of the potions you’d be mixing. Ben chuckled when you told him you’d spent an hour being coached on how to pronounce a single word, a process which included a basic Latin lesson and lots of repetition. “Well at least I didn’t end up with a black eye from it,” you said, pointing at him through the video chat screen. Over the weeks you’d been apart you’d relied heavily on phone conversations and face time calls to keep in contact. There’d been a visit or two when you had the chance but both of you were busy and keen not to be splashed through every gossip rag around so they were few and far between. The calls were easier, more private, and quickly became part of your wind down routine – come home, snuggle up on the couch, and talk to Ben for a few hours. “Hardly having fun if you can’t accidentally get knocked out by a poorly thrown weapon,” “I beg to differ, but you do you Benny,” you laughed, reaching for your coffee. The mug Ben had painted for you. He smiled when he saw it. “Aside from learning Latin and not being beaten up on a daily basis, how’s the movie going?” Ben asked as he reached behind him to adjust the pillow he was leaning against. “God it's been so good so far. The girls are so lovely and fun to be around. Plus, y’know, as someone who spent a lot of her childhood making mud potions in the backyard and playing Harry Potter, getting to run around throwing spells and stuff is kind of a dream come true.” He laughed again, “you’re such a nerd, I love you.” “Shut up. How’s it going in Spain?” “Well I have a black eye and I miss you so... Nah, it’s all going really well. Copped a bit of shit after you left,” Ben rolled his eyes, “apparently I was depressed. But this shoot has been so good. Gonna be kinda sad to be done.” “How much longer have you got?” “Couple of weeks, I think.” “You should come over to mine when you land, I’ll cook you dinner,” “Yeah? I’d like that.” “Course you will, nice home cooked meal, a blowjob, what’s not to like.” “I’ll let you know when my flight is so you can prepare – buy ingredients, do jaw stretches. What’re you laughing for? I’m serious, we both know how big I am.” He laughed, breaking the façade of seriousness as his tongue stuck out between his teeth. “Are you ready for it?” “Beyond ready, I miss sex.” “Not what I meant. There were a few paps waiting for me at the airport last time I was coming back from visiting you. Mostly yelling questions about if we’re really back together.” “How bad is it?” “Not as much attention as we were getting while we were doing press for the movie but it’s pretty annoying.” “They’ll calm down. After they see us a few times and they find someone else to lose their shit over.” “Yeah, probably. But you’re still good with this happening, even with the extra attention?” “Y/N, babe, we talked about this already. We always knew it was likely to happen and nothing’s changed since then. I still want to be with you.” “Just checking,” “I know. Now, I don’t have to be on set for another half hour so why don’t you tell me more about this blowjob I can expect.”

Ben was right, though it took longer to die down than you’d have liked. Felicity alerted you to a number of articles both in print and online after Ben got home. It almost felt like the days of promoting The Perfect Match – photos of you walking hand in hand and sitting at cafes and sneaking kisses on street corners being tweeted and commented on, articles about your latest date and speculation on if another breakup with imminent. The difference was this time you didn’t recognise the people taking the pictures. But, after a month or so, when it became clear you weren’t going to start arguing in fancy French restaurants again the magazines and websites started posting less and less. “It’s like Mary said,” Ben shrugged when you brought it up, “people like conflict and we’re not giving them any.” And that was true. Without the pressure of keeping your feelings hidden from each other or yourselves you were less prone to sulky silences and terse words. Plus no one was telling you to break up for attention. In fact, the months after Ben came back from Spain were better than you’d let yourself believe they would be. You were still working on the witch movie, working title: Toil and Troubles, spending most days and some nights bent over cauldrons of smoking liquid nitrogen and pink slime, or running through forests hoping your pronunciation was correct. Ben visited, sometimes to take you out to lunch or to drop off items you’d left at his place that you were bound to need. Convenient excuses. But welcome nonetheless. At the very least it was good practice for when you introduced him to your friends and family. Felicity insisted on meeting the man who’d caused her best friend so much heartache within the first week of his arrival, a situation that gave you more anxiety than any of the paparazzi ever would. But your worries were for nothing. Ben was perfectly charming and took Felicity’s one or two snide comments with good grace and a suitable amount of remorse. She pulled you aside later to let you know she approved and could see why you liked him so much. You breathed a sigh of relief at that, not needing her approval but glad to have it anyway. That first meeting made you less nervous about the ones that followed, even when it came to your blood relatives. And then, of course, you had to make good on your promise to his mum. He’d had to smooth things over with his family first, having made such a big deal about breaking up with you before he took off to Spain. They’d been surprised when he told them things weren’t working, having believed you quite happy during your visit, and more surprised when they saw you were back together. But if they thought Ben was making a mistake with rekindling the romance they didn’t show it. Angela and Keith welcomed you back to their home with warm smiles and more food than the four of you could eat. You left, still giggling at some of Ben’s baby photos, with a plate of leftovers in one hand and an invitation to come back soon.

It wasn’t until after Toil and Troubles wrapped that you decided to move in together. Ben suggested it casually one night while you were eating dinner in front of a rerun of Friends, the one where Chandler moves in with Monica. The suggestion was accompanied by a joke about how you’d been dating for nearly a year if you counted all the Perfect Match stuff, but you knew he wasn’t really joking. You’d been thinking about it too. You flipped a coin to see who’d be selling their place and didn’t complain when it was you. Ben’s house was already your second home, might as well make it your only one. Luckily, with your movie having started post-production, neither of you were filming and so were free to jump into the process of packing and decluttering and moving. It wasn’t long before you were carrying a box of your clothes up the stairs of Ben’s house, your house now. He followed with another, dumping it in the middle of his living room and telling Felicity to put hers down with it as he ran out to help one of his mates with a bookshelf. The requisite pizza was bought for lunch and beer provided as thanks for everyone’s help before they left, leaving you and Ben with a living room full of boxes and no inclination to go through them. Instead you weaved your way through the blockades, flopping, exhausted, onto the couch. You stretched out, Ben laughing as he lay on you, his head on your chest. “Just a little break,” he said with a yawn and before you knew it you’d both dozed off, warn out from the days exertions.

You woke to Ben digging through the box closest to your head. “Which one of these has all your kitchenware?” he asked when he saw you watching him. “Should say kitchen on the top in blue sharpie, why?” He stood up and walked to another stack, shifting a box off the top of the pile, muttering the word kitchen to himself over and over. You let him search, taking a moment to stretch out the stiffness from napping on the couch. “Did you see those magazines Felicity left?” he asked as he moved another box out of the way. “No, where are they?” “Kitchen bench. You’ll laugh.” You ducked into the kitchen and opened the first one, a copy of Woman’s Weekly, flicking through the pages until you were met with an image of you and Ben walking down the street together. He was looking at his phone and you were talking, head turned toward him. A red circle drew attention to your hand and underneath it was a slightly blurry close up of the same section. Scanning the paragraphs beside the photos the word engaged jumped out at you making you snort. “Knew you’d find it funny,” Ben said, peeking over your shoulder. “It’s not even a proper ring, just some cheap costume jewellery. And it’s on the wrong finger. Bloody hell they’re desperate.” “Look at the other one,” Ben stuck the kettle on to boil, glancing over to watch you as he opened his cupboard of mugs. You pulled the issue of Heat out and riffled through its pages too. “Oh my god,” Ben laughed, “I know right! Pregnant, really?” “I’m never wearing that dress again. In fact I’m going to go find whichever box it’s in and throw it in the donations bag right now,” Ben caught you around the waist before you could take a step, “Don’t do that cuddle bunny,” he pouted, “I love you in that dress. One of my favourites.” “Because it’s easy to take off?” “Because you look cute in it. Being easy to take off is just a bonus,” he pulled you in close and kissed you as you laughed, “speaking of, with you moving in we’ll have to give you a proper welcome. I’m thinking start up against the front door, work out way through every room,” he pinched your bum suddenly, just to emphasise what he meant. “Cool your jets horndog, gotta move boxes out of the way before we can even get to the front door. And I think I need a coffee before I even think about sorting boxes.” “It’s a good thing I was about to make us coffee then. I found your kitchenware by the way.” You looked for the first time at the counter where Ben had set out the makings of coffee. There, amongst the canister of sugar and bottle of milk sat two mugs. The two mugs you’d decorated for each other, side by side.

#my writing #my fics #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy smut #ben hardy imagine #i love writing 2 fucking idiot doofuses #i think they earned this fluff

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iseulvld · 5 years ago

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hey, it’s chey! i’m here to introduce you to pristine’s main vocal & main dancer, hyun “eden” iseul. you can find his public profile here, his private profile here, his plots here & his pinterest board here. below the cut, you’ll find a beginner’s guide to eden.

PERSONALITY.

infp-t / the turbulent mediator. self-critical, imaginative, idealistic, intense, disconnected, awkward. much like a turtle, iseul is timid in social situations and while he can be open at times, he can retreat into his shell at any given moment. once he retreats, it’s as if he’s disconnected from reality; he becomes oblivious to the world around him, unaware of even the loudest attempts to bring him back. he has a rich world inside of his mind where he feels comfortable and sometimes, it can seep into reality. you could say that he views the world around him as a fantasy movie scene, often creating things that aren’t there. he romanticizes things that should be perceived as face value and can easily develop exaggerated views of objects, places, people and even feelings. it’s not uncommon for him to put others on a pedestal and tear himself down. will accept the blame for anything that goes wrong, even when he’s being treated unfairly. despite being withdrawn, he relies heavily on other peoples’ opinions to feel validated and worthy.

pisces / the fishes. dreamy, playful, emotional, artistic, fickle, empathetic. fully aware of the pain that the world holds, he still has a habit of looking at things through rose-colored glasses. he has big dreams and can get a little carried away thinking about them. likes to have fun and laugh as well as make others laugh, even though it takes him a while to get to such a comfortable point with people. his mind changes like the weather, so he has trouble committing to long-term associations, whether it’s relating to his career or interpersonal relationships. his moods are dependent on those of whoever he’s around; highly malleable, tries to camouflage himself in social situations and mimic other people as to not draw excessive attention to himself.

HISTORY.

highkey an unwanted child and neither of his parents tried to hide it.

( TW PHYSICAL + VERBAL ABUSE / MANIPULATION ) i tried not to describe it much in his bio but his parents were...... very toxic. didn’t always treat him poorly --- they were actually pretty nice sometimes --- but when they were bad..... they were bad. endured a lot of abuse until he left for college and they also tried to tell him it was his fault and they only hurt him because they cared about him. ( TW END )

his coping method for everything was basically just pretending that things weren’t as bad as they were. any time someone said something hurtful, he was like :) that’s okay! i know you don’t mean it. tbh he still does this. he’ll put up with SO much bs just bc he’ll tell himself that it’s not personal

was kind of always drawn to more creative ventures such as writing and art; one of his first ever dreams (and still his dream) was/is to be an author. also picked up a hobby of origami when he was really young.

started showing interest in music after he got a MEGA crush on one of his classmates when he was like... 13. the classmate wanted to become an idol (side note... this is an open connection if anyone wants it fbjhvd) and he wanted to have something in common w them, so he was like omg no way??? me too???

started practicing w that friend and it was kind of obvious he didn’t know what he was doing, but he did end up getting better and started to really enjoy it!!!

so he started auditioning for companies when he was 14 behind his parents’ backs, never got accepted tho and eventually his parents found out and they were like.... bruh you are NOT the kim dongchul you think you are.... (oh, sweet irony).

started working part-time when he turned 15, mainly just passed out fliers but would help out at diners sometimes too if they’d let him. needed money to pay for actual lessons bc just practicing w his friend, as much as he did love it, was NOT cutting it and there was no way in hell he was going to pass an audition w his skills at the time.

kept auditioning for YEARS, lit rally didn’t stop until he graduated high school even though his parents mocked every single failure. ended up getting accepted into seoul institute of the arts, where he studied creative writing & dance for a lil while

ended up getting scouted by a summit media rep on campus, thought it was HILARIOUS!!!!! that they were from kim dongchul’s company. got so much enjoyment out of telling his parents. laughed about it for hours

he dropped out in his second year of school bc it was too hard to do everything his professors expected of him and train. nowadays, he really regrets dropping out (and kind of joining tbh), but :// what can ya do?

TRIVIA.

he has a lot of interest in languages, for someone who’s... so bad... at talking. he’s not fluent in anything other than korean (and barely that lmao), but he knows a LITTLE bit of japanese, english, french & italian. but when i say a little... i DO mean a little. for example, all he knows how to say in italian is “in bocca al lupo” which is jus like... an idiom that means good luck. that’s ALL he can retain of the italian language and he says it all the time. boy will never master a language

a big fan of origami. started doing it bc someone he had a crush on in grade school did it and he was like wow, can you teach me??? and for the past however many years, he has been leaving a trail of paper cranes in his wake.

he likes to decorate w the origami he makes --- the pristine dorm definitely has a vase with origami cherry blossoms in it. he likes to make all kinds of things (swans, boats, lotus flowers, hearts, frogs, birds, etc) though & he’s always trying to learn smth new!

also loves writing. the kind of guy who will describe you. will and probably has written poems about everyone he’s ever met. probably uses summit media idols/trainees/staff when he needs muse LMAOOOO. he sees them walking through the halls n he’s like “let me break out my notebook rq”

ALWAYS changing his hair...... wants to do whatever he wants with it while he has the freedom to. loves to dye and cut it. right now, his hair looks the same as in 8yuthe gif icon BUT his fc just cut his hair mad short so there will be a change very soon.

stage name is eden --- basically means that by listening to his voice & watching his performance, you’ll find a serene paradise..... make fun of him for it.

#vldintro #if u read this whole thing.... i love u now <3

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isaac-lahey-imagines · 6 years ago

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IMAGINE #68 || REQUEST #32

So I kind of patterned this with the episode Chaos Rising and the episodes after it, and boy did I went back to my ATLA roots and shipping the hell out of Zutara (again). And I think I just turned my sister into a Zutara shipper lmao.

Disclaimer: This is not beta-checked, the usual things I say like if there are any errors, my bad! Also a disclaimer, I used the bad (my friends described it as cursed lmao) avatar live-action bending scene gifs so yeah, I had to scan through the movie to see what I can use, and can I just say that it was so cringy? Like up until now I hate it with a burning passion. I just hope that the Netflix live-action adaptation will be better.

~~~

Gathering in Derek's apartment to plan the rescue mission, Stiles had laid out the blueprint of the bank and started talking while scribbling on the piece of drafting paper.

"Uh, why isn't she helping?" You heard a voice suddenly speak up over Stiles' explaining the contents of the blueprint.

"She's helping us, trust me," Scott answered, eyes not leaving the floor plan of the bank.

"What? How?" Peter asked again. "And who is she?"

"She's none of your business, now shut up," Stiles replied quite fast before he went back to pointing at the figures and labels of the floor plan.

"Oh, but I would like to know who are the people you're inviting into my apartment-"

"Peter, shut up." Derek cut him off. "And it's my apartment."

You felt eyes staring daggers into you as you remained unphased by the older Hale, it didn't sit well with him that he wasn't 'feared' by a teenager, let alone a girl. He wanted to say something else but was told off by Derek to let it go.

It was by this time you felt your meditation was working when you felt Isaac's presence, it was weak but unstable. This left a heavy weight in your chest when you tried to coax him out of this strange 'trance' but it wouldn't work, no matter how much you tried there was this bizarre blockage that hindered it.

"Forget the drill," You heard Derek disregard Stiles' suggestion of bringing power tools.

"I'm sorry?" Stiles questioned, looking to Derek with confusion with Scott mirroring his expression.

"If I go in first, how much space do I have?" The werewolf asked in all seriousness.

You can feel Stiles look to Scott and your brother giving him an 'I don't know what he's talking about' look.

"What do you think you're gonna do, Derek?" Stiles asked. "You're gonna punch through a wall?"

"Yes, Stiles." He breathed out. "I'm gonna punch through the wall."

"O-okay, big guy. Let's see it." Stiles challenged. "Let's see that big ol' fist. C'mon."

Curiosity got the better of you making you disregard your meditation and open your eyes and look to where your brother and the others were. Stiles continued to 'mock' Derek and his werewolf abilities while Peter sat on the circular stairwell watching and rolling his eyes at the pathetic mockery of their kind.

"Get it out there, don't be scared. C'mon the big bad wolf gonna punch through the wall," Derek lifted a fist in between them before Stiles lifted his flat palm in front of it and held Derek's wrist a few inches away.

"Okay, see this?" Stiles started. "That's maybe 3 inches of room to gather enough force to punch through solid co-"

And just like that, the sound that resembled watermelon being crushed echoed in the loft as you watched Derek effortlessly jabbed the make-believe wall Stiles created with his flat palm. Your brother's best friend ended up being shoved backward and have his arm hit against the metal table, the sound painfully echoed through the walls while a pained expression was evident on his face as he whimpered.

"Agh!" His voice cracked as he walked away from the two werewolves to where you were. "He can do it!"

You tried to hold your laughter, your smile even, as you bit your lips in between your teeth. You maneuvered Stiles to sit in front of you and gathered water in your hand before aiding the injured extremity and encasing his hand in the water bubble you created and working on it the way your teacher taught you.

It took another hour for them before they settled with an alternative plan, a plan that involved you this time.

"No, she's not coming with us." Scott's voice boomed making you jerk a little in surprise, his hands clenching the sides of the table that had the architectural blueprint of the Beacon Hills bank on it. His knuckles turning whiter the more he listened to Derek explain as to how you were going to be of great help in the rescue mission.

"Yes, she is." Derek continued their little banter back and forth as if you weren't in the room.

"She'll fit perfectly in the vent-" Stiles defended, noting that with your abilities, it'll be a plus on their side.

"No, I won't let her." Scott cut him off, feeling frustrated with how the other two seemed keen on putting you in danger's way.

"What does she do, anyway?" Peter decided to join and tried to sound relevant and ask but was rather ignored as Stiles and Derek teamed up against Scott and continued.

"C'mon, Scott." Stiles started again. "Just think-"

Stiles didn't get to finish whatever he was going to say when the lights in Derek's place flickered while a buzz of electricity sounded and sparked on top of them, their attention suddenly cautious at what was happening with their surroundings.

"I'd prefer to make my own decisions and not let other people dictate what I can and cannot do." You spoke, standing up from your comfortable seat on the couch and accidentally spilling the water blob that encased Stiles' hand on himself making it look like he wet his pants. You apologized quickly, your mood changes for a split second before returning to your irritated state.

"I know you mean well, Scott. But I can handle myself out there," you argued to your brother. "I can practically outmatch every single one of you here."

Though the majority of the men in the room agreed, one didn't. He stood from his sitting position on the stairs and looked like he wanted a challenge.

"Uh, Peter-" The man ignored Stiles' protest as he stood right in front of you, Scott gave a low warning growl just as Derek did the same with their claws slowly showing.

"I wouldn't say that if I were you, little girl," Peter advised, his eyes squinting and head shaking in disbelief at what you said.

"But you aren't me, so." You answered back, raising one brow up. Your attitude made up for your height that Peter and all the men in your life had in their advantage.

"I could cut that tongue of yours right now," he opened his clawed hand and showed the nails that grew in length, his canines already out and ready to bite your head off.

"And I can do this right now," you replied with no one registering your swift movements, not even the werewolf in front of you.

From your standing position in front of Peter, you took your right foot back and twisted your lower body before launching yourself up in the air and gave a very powerful tornado kick. Your foot made contact with his cheekbone, the sound of bone crunching bounced off the walls. Gracefully landing on your feet, you proceeded with stomping your left foot on the floor making a large wedge of concrete suddenly rise from the floor below Peter which sent him flying against the wall on the other side of the room.

To say that your brother was rather proud at what just happened was an understatement, his jaw dropped just as Stiles had his hands on his head with his fingers gripping at his brown hair and Derek looking impressed with wide eyes as he watched his uncle struggling to stand up.

~~~

With your legs crossed, you sat by the large windows as rain poured outside and thunder and lightning flashed illuminating the poorly lit apartment. All of you compromised on the plan by letting you be in on it and be the 'backup' in case, Scott not wanting to put his younger sister in the first line of defense.

You had your eyes closed but you can pinpoint exactly where Peter and Stiles were inside of Derek's place, his uncle lounging on the sofa and Stiles standing beside you while he looked out the window – the way he stood didn't quite help with your concentration since his leg fidgeted.

"I can't take waiting around like this." The corner of your eye twitched at the sound of Stiles' voice breaking the silence of the apartment. "You know, it's nerve-wracking."

You and Peter ignored him and continued to stay silent but he proceeded with his wordplay, you knew this was how he 'coped' per se in situations like this-fidgeting with the skin of his fingers or babbled non-stop, or both.

"My nerves are wracked." He said. "Severely wracked."

"Wracked." He repeated.

"I could beat you unconscious," Peter suggested, his eyes looking at Stiles who had his back turned still facing the window.

"I could beat you to death." You suggested back, not opening your eyes yet you can just picture the look of annoyance plastered on Peter Hale's face as he let out a growl that you felt as it reverberated through the ground.

Stiles then started talking about Erica, why they keep the werewolves in a bank specifically and not in an underground chamber; pointing out that they're an alpha pack and having 'lairs' to which Peter replied in a monotoned voice, "They're werewolves, not Bond villains."

"Wait a sec, wait a sec!" Stiles' voice grew gradually louder forcing you to open your eyes and be an ear and listen to what he has to say, feeling that it might be of importance.

"Maybe they're living there, you know?" He started. "Maybe the bank vault reminds them of their little wolf dens."

"Stiles, I don't think that's what they had in mind." You contradicted his idea as politely as your voice allowed you to before hearing Peter repeat the word 'wolf dens' more to himself.

"Yeah, wolf dens. Where do you live?" He then asked turning around to face Peter.

"In an underground network of caves hidden deep in the woods," Hale sarcastically answered to which you rolled your eyes to but to Stiles it seemed like he believed it.

"Woah, really?"

"No, you idiot, I have an apartment downtown."

"Okay, fine but that still proves that there's something up with the bank."

"And why wait around for the full moon, huh?" Stiles added.

"Looks very poetic to me." You commented, standing up from your position and walking near the table where the blueprint was laid out, your eyes scanned the scribbles Stiles made that pointed to where the vault was located and how your brother and Derek was going to get in.

"Well, they already had 3 full moons to be poetic," Stiles replied, gesturing his hand to the moon that was slowly creeping out of the dark rain clouds outside.

"And here you have only 1 full hour to be so anno-" When Peter stopped at what he was going to say, you looked his way with confusion evident in your face as he started to get up from his comfortable position lying on the sectional.

"What are the walls made of?" He suddenly asked.

"Wha-oh, well there's wood and stone..." Stiles trailed off looking up at the ceiling and at the walls of the apartment.

"No, the vault!" Peter repeated before he started flipping through the floor plans trying to find what materials were used. "What are they made out of?"

"Where does it say?" He asked again when he couldn't find any of it labeled on the plans.

Looking through the other plans Stiles brought, you skimmed and tried to find the word 'materials' and 'vault' in them. It took a few more seconds before Stiles brought out a bull-clipped document and started looking for it there.

"There!" You exclaimed when you finally saw it.

Stiles and Peter quickly read through it before letting out a shaky breath.

"What is it?" You asked, your face still holding that confused look you had earlier.

"Call Scott now," Peter demanded rather frantically as Stiles took out his phone and started dialing your brother.

It took about 3 rings before Scott answered.

"Stiles, now's not the best time." You heard Scott say hurriedly, his voice sounding echo-y as you strained your ears to listen.

You heard a low growl as Derek spoke in the background, you were starting to feel fidgety yourself as you walked to the armchair where you laid your jacket on upon coming in a while ago.

"Scott! Scott, no, listen to me." Stiles said. "You gotta get out of there."

"I'm going to get them, I don't care if they won't give us that damn signal for backup." You said as you took your phone from the side table of the armchair and pocketed it in your pants.

"Look, the walls of the vault are made with a mineral called Hecatolite," Stiles informed. "It scatters the moonlight."

"What does that mean?" Scott asked.

"It keeps the moonlight out – they haven't felt the full moon in months." You added.

You can practically hear everyone's heart beating a hundred times faster as the air in the room started to feel rather heavy, you weren't sure if Derek could even hear what you were saying over the phone.

"Deucalion has kept them from shifting for 3 full moons diminishing their tolerance to it." Peter butt in.

"Scott, they're gonna be stronger." "They're more savage, more bloodthirsty..."

Both Stiles and Peter were now talking at the same time as they listened to what was happening on the other line.

"They're the starved lions, and you and Derek just stepped into their coliseum." Peter mirrored the situation with that of a gladiator ring.

"I'm headed there now," you called out before leaving the place in a rush but you didn't miss the sudden growls and Stiles shouting over the phone, this made you move even faster in your pace as you climbed up to the top of the building and started jumping from one roof to another.

~~~

Arriving at the bank and following the frantic heavy movements you felt on the ground beneath you, you ran as fast as you can and caught up with the scene of Allison calling out to Scott and Derek by a large round metal door before breaking what you can only guess was a barrier of mountain ash. This then resulted into more growls before you saw Boyd running out of the vault followed by a girl and to your surprise and relief, Isaac.

"Isaac?" You say under your breath as you watched him and the others scurry away and out of the bank. Jumping from one ledge to the other of the atrium, you landed on the ground just as you saw Derek grasp Allison's arm rather harshly.

"What were you thinking?!" He asked angrily, a vein on his neck and temple looking prominent as his blood boiled.

"Don't touch her!" You brother, bloodied and bruised, emerged from the vault almost stumbling at his shaken-up state.

"I had to do something," she defended herself.

While the other two were busy, you caught Scott's attention as you gracefully landed on your feet before gesturing like you were about to throw something at Derek, to which a strong gust of wind blew him away from Allison making him land on his butt against the vault's door.

"Women don't like to be man-handled, Hale." You informed crossing your arms over your chest looking a bit annoyed at how he was treating Allison, Derek could only reply with a growl at what you did as he stood up immediately.

"She saved your lives." You said just as you walked to Scott and helped him out of the vault, you held him by his waist and put his arm around your shoulders as you tried to carry some of his weight to relieve the pressure of his injury. "Didn't you think of that?"

"Yeah, and what did you think they were going to do out there?" Derek shouted, pointing a finger at you before pointing of the exit they went out of.

"Do you have any idea what we just set free?" Derek now turned to Allison.

"You want to blame me?" She asked, the volume of his voice at par with Derek's. "Well, I am not the one turning teenagers into killers."

You ignored what Derek and Allison were talking about as you concentrated in giving your brother first aid, you were thankful that you brought even a little bit of water with you locked in a charm that would help in situations like this.

You didn't waste any more time in going after the 3 werewolves that escaped after finally finding, to Derek's misfortune, Erica's dead body and laying her to rest peacefully somewhere only he knew.

Upon arriving at the forest grounds, you kneeled down and laid your hand flat on the wet soil and tried to sense the vibration the 3 escapees were emitting. It didn't take too long before you found the path, their stomps growing harder and faster as they felt like live wires under the moon after how many months.

"They split up," you informed, feeling the footsteps going further and further from your range.

Once the 2 werewolves caught on with their scents, they started following one path and you did the same, your hand giving off little sparks as your nervousness was slowly taking over the further away you wandered away from Derek and Scott– the thought of you being alone in a dark forest and this being your last (hopefully not) night alive didn't help.

As your feet started to feel stronger vibrations the further you went north, you sped up your pace before finally stumbling upon Isaac announcing is presence to an innocent victim by growling and showing off his claws and canines.

Just before the person screamed, you took a step forward before letting you punch air straight towards Isaac. Stumbling backward, this distracted him as you helped his almost victim get away quickly by setting the ground under her footing move farther from where you and the werewolf were.

"Isaac!" You called, making an attempt that maybe your presence and your voice might help in bringing him back to his human self. But this only made it worse as he gave a growl before charging at you, the intensity in his eyes could match the fiery element you held in you.

Sliding your foot forward at the same time moving your clenched fists in the same direction, you created a barrier of rock in front of you - it didn't last too long though as Isaac broke through and continued heading your way with claws at the ready looking desperate.

Managing to get moisture from the humid air as well as the trees and plants around you, you created a whip that you used to strike at Isaac. His run towards your direction halted as he felt sear hot pain on his shoulder running diagonally down to his waist, his eyes glowed a brighter yellow as he looked back at you with an angrier expression on his face.

"Isaac, it's me!" Your whip curled around his wrist before turning into solid ice, you pulled him towards you with as much strength as you have before flipping backward and hitting him with an uppercut using your foot.

With the water whip, you proceeded to wave your hand in a circular motion in front of you and let it wrap around Isaac and slowly turn it into solid ice to lock him in place.

“Isaac,” you spoke his name again, approaching the werewolf that was kneeling in front of you with eyes a yellow color and canines still showing. You had your hands up in front of you to show that you were not a threat, the growls he made slowly lessened as you now stood in front of him.

He looked at you confused, his brows furrowed and all you wanted to do was just kiss away those worry lines on his forehead. But you didn’t want to risk your face getting mauled.

Placing your palms gently and carefully on either side of his head, you started working on trying to draw out his humanity from underneath the beast that was trapped in the vault – his eyes slowly rolling back in his head as his lids shut and the water that encased your hand started glowing a silver blue color that reflected the full moon on top of you.

You watched as his eyes moved under those closed lids as if looking for someone, his canines slowly turned back to his normal teeth and his ragged breath turned calmer. But before you can even finish, the sudden burst of the solid wall you've created around the two of you threw you off guard. You felt a massive weight collide with your body before pinning you down on the ground and knocking the air out of your lungs, the dizziness you felt was quickly disregarded as you felt a sharp ache growing from your shoulders and down to the bottom of your spine.

You gave out a painful scream as you gathered enough strength to push the ground beneath your palm resulting in a chunk of the earth bury whatever it was that attacked you, Isaac, on the other hand, broke free from the ice and started running towards you-your screams awakening something inside of him.

“Y/N,” Trying to recover and stand up from the sudden attack, Isaac was quick to help you and position you behind his protective stance. Your hand was now cupping a ball of blue and orange flame that danced together as it illuminated the dark forest while the other held on to him for support.

Upon directing the light to the direction of your attacker, you saw that it was Boyd who attacked you – while he was distracted and getting his bearings together, you winced before kneeling down and motioned your hands as if you were lifting something. Isaac watched as you created a mound that swallowed Boyd’s body – the soil coming just below his chin, not wanting to cover above their heads and suffocate him.

“Woah,” you heard Isaac say under his breath looking wide-eyed at what just happened.

With a heavy breath, you stood up slowly as you started to feel the back of your shirt getting wet and feel the goosebumps decorate your arms from the sudden coolness of the air hitting the large gashes that Boyd inflicted on you.

“Y/N, your back!” Isaac turned you around just to see how big and worse the damage present.

“I know, just let me call Scott.” You said, trying to hide the wince as you moved to reach for your phone. Isaac didn’t miss it though but he only pretended to not notice as he started to remove his jacket and lay it on your shoulder to cover it up.

Squinting your eyes, you took your phone from your pocket and dialed for your brother.

"Y/N, where are you?" Scott immediately answered, sounding out of breath as he ran on the other line.

"I'm somewhere north, but Isaac’s already here and I got Boyd already -" before you can even finish your sentence, from the corner of your eye you saw a figure heading straight at you and Isaac.

You weren’t confident in math even back in grade school so you definitely miscalculated your movements as you pushed Isaac out of the way and blasted a line of blue and orange flames its way only to feel your arm dislocate from your shoulder as your body landed on the cold soil. Letting out another cry of pain, you can hear Scott's panicked voice over the phone that was now about a meter away from you while Isaac knelt down to cover your body and let out a loud growl at the creature that attacked and pulled at you. You could only see a figure up on a tree branch, the silhouette looking familiar as you remembered the other werewolf that was also kept in the vault.

“It’s Cora,” he informed before charging at the werewolf and attacking her with claws and teeth.

So that’s her name, you thought.

You watched as Cora kicked and clawed at Isaac and getting the upper hand in the fight. Grunting and letting out a growl yourself, you hooked your working hand and let out a blast of blue flame towards the figure while you sat in a kneeling position on the ground. You watched as Isaac and Cora broke off from clawing at each other’s face at the sight and feel of the fire.

As the girl kept her distance and seemed to be calculating her next moves, you decided to use this time to pop your arm back in place.

“Is that even possible?” Isaac asked running towards you and with a helpless look, not knowing what to do with your situation right now. His eyes glanced between you and Cora, keeping an eye on her so that any time she decides to attack, he’ll be ready.

If it were possible, you can feel your teeth breaking as you bit back a scream when you felt it pop back in place. Ignoring the pain that throbbed, you stood up immediately and started shooting a line of fire and water that both burned and froze the target on the tree branch until she eventually fell on the ground.

Just when you thought that you were almost done dealing with Cora, Boyd decided to finally break free from the mound and attack the two of you – it was now a tie between the teams.

“Y/N, get behind me.” You heard Isaac say, his hands pulling at your wrist and making you stand behind him.

“No,” you argued. “I’ll take care of Cora, you go after Boyd.”

Using him as a cover, you ignored the pain and with straightened fingers, motioned your hands in a diagonal movement resulting in large buttress-like rock formations emerging from the ground and throw them to the side.

Isaac then proceeded to attack the disoriented Boyd while you went for Cora, your elements trying to move and work as quick as Cora avoided it. Twisting your body and waving your hands in a circular motion, water whipped at the girl as she landed on her back on the ground. She quickly recovered and retorted with a side kick to your left making you grunt and reply with an uppercut followed by a roundhouse.

When the two were starting to get the upper hand, Isaac pulled you to the side and started taking them on his own.

“Y/N, do the other thing!” He called out as he took a hit, Boyd and Cora getting closer to bite his neck clean off.

Without hesitation, you took a breath and concentrated on the two werewolves. You promised yourself that you weren’t going to use it and yet, there will always be a time when you will need to. Glowing a silver-blue color, your eyes took in the image and your hands automatically was in control of their movements.

You can hear and see the blood pumping in their veins and you can feel it in your hands, as if you were holding it. Isaac stood up from the ground and backed away watching as you had full control of the werewolves, the rigid and abrupt movements of your hands mirrored that of Cora’s and Boyd’s movements of standing straight up and their arms stuck to their side.

You didn’t know what came into you as you unconsciously curled your fingers inward, you felt the two slowly losing itself as the palm of your hand grew cold. When you were about to pull you clenched fists to the sides in a ripping manner and finish them off then and there, you felt a warm hand envelope yours drawing you back to reality.

You didn’t realize that tears were now running down your cheeks when Isaac cupped your face and wiped them with the pads of his thumbs, your brother and Derek arriving at the scene just as Boyd and Derek’s sister scurried off.

“What the hell was that?” You assumed that Derek saw everything as he fast approached you, his features looking like he was about to attack you. Isaac immediately covered you with his body and let a low warning growl while Scott stopped the other Alpha in his tracks by standing in between Derek and the two of you.

Isaac could only hug you closer to him as Scott dialed for Stiles to pick the four of you up, his hands careful not to touch your gashes on the back and your injured shoulder.

~~~

Hope you guys liked that one, I'm not sure if I'm going to make a part 2 to this so I'll just see what my fingers and brain decide.

Tell me guys what you think :D

Thank you for always sticking with the imagines and giving comments and votes! Really do appreciate them <3

#isaac lahey #isaac lahey imagine #isaac lahey imagines #teen wolf #teen wolf imagine #teen wolf imagines #my imagines

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aclockworkfilmsnob · 5 years ago

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Answer 17 questions and tag 17 people you want to get to know better

I was tagged by @bathels

Nickname: Whatever my obsession of the week is lmao.

Zodiac: Capricorn

Height: 5’ 11”

Hogwarts House: Slitheran I guess (Not a Harry Potter fan)

Last thing I Googled: "How to fix Black Screen of Death Mac”

Favorite Musicans: Jimmy Buffett, Simon & Garfunkel, David Bowie, 2Pac, James Newton Howard,

Song Stuck in My Head: Hang me, Oh Hang me - Oscar Isaac

Following: 330

Followers: 1347

Amount of sleep I get: Since it’s midterms, not as much as I need. But I try to get my 8 hours as much as I can nowadays, my sleep schedule used to be abysmal.

Lucky Number: 75

Dream job: Director/Writer

Wearing: Black shirt and pajama pants, I’m a bum lmao

Favorite songs: Fare thee Well by Oscar Isaac, Moonfog by Jimmy Buffett, The Boxer by Simon & Garfunkel, Strangers by The Kinks, Starman by David Bowie, Starman by Seu Jorge, Blue Bayou by Bertie Higgins, I Got a Name by Jim Croce, Gold to Me by The Dirty Heads, Suicidal Thoughts by The Notorious B.I.G., Lake of Fire by Nirvana, Come Undone by Duran Duran, Have a Cigar by Pink Floyd, Downeaster Alexa by Billy Joel, and many many many many many more that I will not bore y’all with.

Instruments: I have very minor and insignificant experience playing Trumpet and Guitar, both rather poorly. I aim to learn Ukelele and possibly Steel Drums at some point in the future.

Facts:

- I once got first place in a 5K when I hadn’t gone on a run for over a month

- I’ve seen Gotti more times than any other mob movie

- I’ve seen my top 3 favorite films in theaters.

Aesthetics:

- Anything aquatic or sea-adjacent, Halloween/autumn, neon-lit streets at night, VHS, 35mm film, noir-style black and white photography, 1960′s manhattan, gothic horror settings (Tod Browning’s Dracula for reference), Christmas, old fashioned Irish Pubs, and pretty much anything reminiscent in style to A Clockwork Orange, The Big Lebowski, and Pulp Fiction.

Y’all know I don’t like tagging people so if you see this consider yourself tagged.

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habibialkaysani · 5 years ago

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ok so I don’t watch daredevil and live thru ur amazing edits of it. I’ve tried to look this up bc I’m curious but I’ve just gotten more confused: is Elektra dead???????? Like, never coming back dead???????

hey there anon! sorry it took me a day or two to get to this - I’ve been busy doing exciting things and haven’t had much time on my laptop.

firstly, I’m so glad you like my edits! I absolutely love giffing daredevil and must get back to it at some point soon, because I miss playing with all those awful colours lmao (seriously there is so much yellow in that show and it’s so very poorly lit, so there’s a lot of Work that needs to be done with basically any daredevil scene).

and hmm. complicated question. elektra died in matt’s arms in 2x13 of daredevil. she basically took a sword for him and saved his life. then months later, in season 1 of the defenders, elektra is resurrected - but she doesn’t remember everything and is used as a weapon. then eventually she and matt are in a building rigged to explode, and their last moments are spent, obviously, just making out while the whole place collapses around them. it’s kinda beautiful.

after that? I still hold that elektra is alive, but the show seems to not bother putting much effort into her character unfortunately and the actress basically carries elektra on her own. she does an excellent job, fwiw. I don’t know if she’s never coming back dead and I guess we won’t know bc daredevil and all the netflix shows got cancelled.

but I’d still pay a year’s salary if it means I get an elektra movie starring elodie yung just saying

#me.txt #replies #elektra natchios #anonymous

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lurkerviolin · 6 years ago

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11 Questions from @brayinghorses whom is good and makes me 💓👀👌👌👌

If you could choose one place to retire to for the rest of your life, where would you go? Oh God, idk, I haven’t actually been that many places? I can’t really see myself traveling to retire unless someone asked me to go with them.

Do you believe in astrology? ...Not in a real way, it’s just sorta fun when I see something that lines up with my personality lol

What’s your favorite media right now? Like, book, movie, show, etc.? Uhhhh the last book I read was All For the Game so I th-- The answer is Venom. Fuck. Shit never mind the answer is Venom.

Do you stim? How do you stim? Ok so I’m not 100% clear on what counts as stimming, but maybe? Leg/foot jiggling, twisting my own hair, snapping the clips of pens, rocking side to side (which i didn’t realize i even did that much until someone asked about it whoops 😌)

Describe your aesthetic? Jeans and henleys, horribly chipped nail polish, poorly lit bedrooms,

Do you like sports? Which one’s your favorite? Not really, but hockey is my favorite! I watched some of the Stanley cup this year.

What are your hobbies? Writing and video games?

Have you ever been kissed? Yep!

Are you able to see the stars at night where you live? Is there a lot of light pollution? There is light pollution, but we still get some nice stars. Driving through Texas at night you get some good stars though!

What song is stuck in your head right now? Lifeline by Papa Roach because scene never dies

Do you have any plushies? Yeah, yeah! I kept several from when I was younger, but I haven’t gotten any new ones recently.

Oops I hit post before I was done, is it all ruined?? lmao anyone who wants to play, say that I tagged you and talk to me!! @fangirlshrewt97?

EDIT: WAIT GODDAMN IT, I WAS SUPPOSED TO PUT QUESTIONS

1. What’s your favorite form of pasta?

2. What’s your favorite outfit?

3. How’d you get your nickname?

4. What app do you use the most?

5. What’s your song of the day?

6. What do you do for a living or want to do for a living?

7. Are you in a sport/club?

8. Do your socks normal match?

9. What’s your favorite thing to shop for?

10. What item are you most likely to buy ten of?

11. It’s 11am on Sunday, what are you doing?

#tag games #ily bb

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hipsterfrankcastle · 6 years ago

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ok i got tagged in this TWICE by the lovely @carry-the-sky and @heidiamalia so let’s goooo

1. how tall are you? 5′8

2. what color and style is your hair?

Currently like a weird.... gingery brown vibe.... the style is what i like to call “poorly box died”. but im like an anime protagonist my hair has been a lot of dumb colours

3. what color are your eyes?

hazel

4. do you wear glasses?

yep!

5. do you wear braces?

not any more

6. what is your fashion style?

weird mix of incredibly formal workwear worn at casual occasions and like..... someone from an ivy park fashion shoot who can’t afford to buy actual ivy park. idk. athleisure shit. but mostly jeans and t-shirts these days seeing as i NEVER LEAVE THE HOUSE

7. full name? not today, satan

8. when were you born? 1995

9. where are you from and where do you live now? i grew up in the southwest of england. still here....

10. what school do you go to?

uni of york

11. what kind of student are you?

oh man. i am the Most. v extra. i used to study too much.

12. do you like school? uh Hell Yeah. i like structure, organised fun, being surrounded by my pals. i try not to nostalgise it tho because there were times i was very very stressed out. why do we put so much pressure on teenagers?? good lord. uni sucked ass but i liked the actual study side of it (masters im coming for you!!)

13. what are your favourite school subjects?

english lit (shocking no one), philosophy and ethics, drama (even tho i sucked ass), history

14. favorite TV shows? too many. the hour and in the flesh are all time faves. i looooove us sitcoms i’ve watched the office maybe 13 times through. maybe more, actually. parks and rec, brooklyn 99, 30 rock (great news was such a severely underappreciated tina fey classic). fleabag. broadchurch, black mirror, the handmaid’s tale blehhhh i could go on for hours.

15. favorite movies? im just going to put 2 because otherwise we will be here for days. the darjeeling limited and joe wright’s pride and prejudice. oh wait. no and the new world. and days of heaven. can’t miss my boy malick off there.

16. favorite books? UHHH a little life (all time fave please read but maybe google some trigger warnings or ask me about it), my year of rest and relaxation, the english patient, the secret history (basic lol), stoner.... tHERE’S TOO MANY.

17. favorite pastime? i like walking my dogs. spending time with my dogs. taking photos of my dogs. other things that don’t include my dogs like watching movies (duh), writing, reading, recently gotten into film photography. im realising now this question didnt ask for a list oop moving on

18. do you have any regrets? yeah. my uni degree. quitting my job (one of those ones where you know it’s what was best for you at the time but now, looking back, it SUCKS). oh. yeah. deciding to lose two stone in the space of five minutes and developing an eating disorder and HAVING TO QUIT MY JOB. that’s a big one. not going to the editing lab with a guy the morning after we kissed. that one felt like a sliding doors situation.

19. dream job? baker. book editor. pro dog walker. im realising all of these are fairly achievable.

20. would you like to get married someday? nope nope nope!! well. maybe. if i find someone REALLY good.

21. would you like to have kids someday? hahahahahahahah no.

23. do you like shopping? yes but im trying to less because capitalism is a scourge and im trying to unlearn its various teachings including how our shopping habits make us feel/how the fashion industry affects body image. plus it’s terrible for the environment. shout out to my therapist for teaching me all this shit.

24. what countries have you visited? a lot of europe (holland germany belgium spain france poland scotland italy greece that’s not a lot actually), USA, australia, new zealand. i wanna hit california next cause ive been to new york twice now.

25. what’s the scariest nightmare you’ve ever had? ermmmmm oh man. uhh. i have a lot of horrible nightmares bcos ---trauma lmao. cant think of one standout one.

26. do you have any enemies?

quentin tarantino. OH and this one girl on my film course at uni. she doesn’t know that we’re enemies. but we are.

27. do you have an s/o?

hahahahahhahahahah

28. do you believe in miracles? uh. no? dont think so. im not very spiritual, but i do believe sometimes that the universe sends you signs (even if really it’s just your brain trying to tell you something your subconscious is trying to tell you by interpreting the world around you a certain way)

thank you so much for the tags. i love talking about myself as you can tell. i think everyone i know has been tagged so. if you’re reading this. you’re tagged!

also if anyone ever has any questions about any details of my personal life. ask me. i will tell you anything. like i said. loooove talking about myself.

#personal #ask tag

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itsalwaysyou-jw · 6 years ago

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Tag Game

I was tagged by the lovely @sherlockedcarmilla

Rules: 15 questions, 15 mutuals

Now I don’t have 15 mutuals on this blog, so I think I will cheat and take some mutuals from my other blog.

From this blog: @nikki-of-asgard , @silver99johnlocked ,@aeveris , @cuminmybatch

Mutuals from my other blog (thezefronposter for those of you who are wondering who I am): @lunalovegouda , @i-love-tony-wonder , @margaretsplatwood , @youngdevotchka , @theendofthechicken , @pendragonhale , @puppiesandcatsandstuff , @audacious-little-fuck , @proffesorlupin , @seriousblathering , and @passionatelyqueer

1. Are you named after anyone? Indeed I am! Storytime: my mom grew up in Puerto Rico and her favorite uncle’s name was Samuel Miranda. (Sidenote, yes we are related to Lin-Manuel Miranda). But her uncle went by Sammy. My mother named me Samantha (middle name Miranda) and I go by Sami.

Alternatively: I really do have an Uncle Sam and people think that’s the punchline but the real punchline is that I was named after him.

2. When was the last time you cried? A few months ago but there is a zero percent chance I make it through this week without crying lmao

3. Do you have kids? Nope!

4. Do you use sarcasm a lot? No.

(that’s the sort of dry sarcasm that you can expect from me.)

5. What’s the first thing you notice about people? I never know how to answer this. I don’t pay attention to physical appearances. In truth, the first thing I notice is someone's emotional energy and their social behavior. If that doesn’t count, then I usually notice their shirt/cardigan/jacket.

6. What’s your eye color? You fool, assuming I know what color my eyes are. In overcast weather or well-lit rooms, they are grey-blue. In sunny weather or poorly lit rooms, they are hazel.

7. Scary movie or happy ending? Please don’t come anywhere near me with scary movies. I can handle the occasional suspense thriller, but I’m very much a “light-hearted film with a happy ending” kind of gal.

8. Any special talents? At the risk of bragging, I am quite adept at singing. I teach others how to sing for a living.

9. Where were you born? Washington State in the United States

10. What are your hobbies? Writing, baking, and singing.

11. Do you have any pets? I have one absolutely perfect orange tabby cat. His name is Loki and he is a beautiful lap cat.

12. What sports do you play/have you played? I used to play all of them but I still play tennis and basketball once a week.

13. How tall are you? 5′6″

14. Favorite subject in school? Math (fuck geometry tho) and choir

15. Dream job? Every day my heart yearns for the Broadway stage. It will never happen, but in the craziest of my dreams, I am on stage performing eight shows a week alongside the most talented humans on this planet and I am happy.

Alternatively and more realistically, I hope to be a professor of psychology and religious studies or a published author.

Hooray! If I tagged you, it’s your turn now. Please tag me so I can learn more about the rest fo you. :)

#about me

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morikotto · 2 years ago

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initial thots on pickman's model (cabinet of curiosities ep 5)

the dialogue is REALLY stilted and unnatural. mister art teacher infodumps all this shit about the competition on the art students who should have already known about this as a medium for the audience at the very first chance

i don't know how much of this is ripped straight from lovecraft's story and how much is new stuff the writers put in and i'm not interested in subjecting myself to lovecraft's godawful writing to find out. i adore the cosmic horror genre that's built up around his writings but the stories themselves are actually fucking awful and poorly written

every single conversation involving the other art students is so unnatural and stiff it's actually painful. the actors aren't very good and the dialogue itself isn't all that coherent. it's honestly giving me 'high school play' vibes.

is ben barnes trying to do an accent???? he should stop immediately

we cannaht let sympathywywywwy... or altrwuyisym... shieyld us from finding the truths of this weyeld....

this is bouncing between 'decently unsettling atmosphere' and 'campy gothic horror parody' so fast i can't get a read on anything

i would buy the art prints though. those are the only thing i like about this episode so far and i ADORE them

pickman's actor is chewing the scenery like it's his last day on earth and he's determined to go out with a bang

ben barnes' character is incomprehensible so far and not in a good way. he's got no clearly delineated characteristics or archetype; one minute he's a pretentious artist, the next he's a wide-eyed student, and the next he's a smarmy asshole. if there was any indication that this was a deliberate character choice i might have been into it, but it's coming across as just really muddled and difficult to parse

like art is subjective and all but the pieces we saw as set dressing are a hell of a lot more impactful than the last supper parody

beautifully shot and lit as always... love ya work del toro

as always, the dramatic silhouette leadups are so gorgeous and unsettling and then the reveals are super anticlimactic Zombie Woman What Hasn't Cut Her Nails type shit. can we PLEASE get a cosmic horror movie monster that looks like something OTHER than a zombie for once in this fucking lifetime jesus fucking christ i don't want to be stuck with spanish-english b-movie DAGON as the only decent cosmic horror for the rest of my mortal existence

the way we got one scene of will in his gf's room and then she isn't mentioned again until he shows up and has a freakout at her party halfway through the episode and ONLY THEN is it revealed that it was some important meet-the-family type deal and she was actually his gf and not a fling??? lmao please develop your character relationships more this is actually sad to see. if it was important it should have been mentioned before, potentially in one of the scenes where all the art students sit around and talk at each other like an AI training other AIs to recognise human speech. also the way she immediately recognises that something is off about him and then after he starts having a serious freakout just, like, decides that actually he's a drunken asshole and berates him for it? this isn't normal human behaviour?

'i don't even recognise you anymore' will's gf says, to her pretentious artist bf after he turns up exactly once to a party having a freakout

?????????????????

the writer of this episode is an alien who has only learnt human behaviour through dogblood soap operas

i wanted to like this episode so bad because i kept hearing about how good it was and how creepy and lovecraftian it was but it appears that it's only lovecraftian in that it showcases all of lovecraft's failings (aside from the obvious); namely, the parts where he had no idea what 'reasonable human behaviour' looked like and the parts where he was interminably boring and insisted on over-explaining everything

GOD THE PACING IS SO BAD

the snippets of conversations about art movements we keep getting are more akin to 'so there i was, bbq sauce on my titties' than any actual normal human speech

also they all seem to start with 'xyz says abc movement is worthless!!! what say you, ben barnes?' as if ben barnes giving his opinion on art movements makes for interesting cinema and doesn't sound like the writer has no earthly idea about art movements and is just making grandiose statements about movements they looked up on wikipedia

[pretentious yet horrifyingly general statement about art movements that can be related back to social commentary] im smart like jordan peele

i cannot hear these new joysey accents without having war flashbacks to abridged dartz and his 'we gonna DO heem... we gonna do heem REAL good...'

somebody get takahashi101 out of retirement i want an abridged pickman's model IMMEDIATELY

ugh, the sets in this are delicious

is his wife the gf who got mad at him for turning up to her party and being weird???? what the fuck happened???? i know she's just an Insignificant Female who's Only There To Create Drama but it would be nice if the writers fleshed out the character relationships more. or... at all, really.

UGH THESE SET PIECES ARE DELICIOUS

lmfao is that the sanity loss effect from amnesia? bro...

'you were rude' says will's wife. 'you treat pickman poorly'. will has, at most, only been shown to a) have a quiet word with someone about not showing his work and b) was a bit quiet when pickman came over for dinner and then called it a night early. unless there's some deleted scene where he goes nutso and starts shouting at pickman, this particular argument - like every other interaction in this episode - is completely incoherent

'you're home late, you're barely home anyway and when you are home you're barely there' will's wife goes on to accuse him. this has not been shown in the episode. none of the things she is complaining about are shown in the episode. we have so far seen about five seconds of will's later life and as such every single time anyone complains about will it is COMPLETELY INCOHERENT

SHOW, DON'T FUCKING TELL. I HAVE NO SENSE OF WHO WILL IS AS A CHARACTER, BECAUSE YOU WON'T FUCKING SHOW ME

as fun as ben barnes' head getting sawn off was, i feel like that scene could have been drawn out way longer and been way more unsettling than it was

i LOVE the scene in pickman's basement and the next one in the art gallery, especially the bit with joe. wish we didn't have to sit through the better part of an hour's worth of absolute shit garbage to get there, but silver linings i guess

the wife's reveal was really anticlimactic but the son's reveal was GREAT

the fear of the unknowable and cosmic horror as a whole is really about leaving parts of the worldbuilding and story obscured to represent the main/POV character's inability to comprehend them. it's NOT about leaving important parts of the POV character's development and characterisation out and going 'tee hee i guess it's just unknowable!!!!' or not explaining plot or character aspects that are very important to the coherency of the story as a whole. it's also not about infodumping half the worldbuilding/characterisation on us through exposition

as much as i enjoyed some of the horror aspects of this episode and most of the other episodes so far, they've all really missed the mark on the unsettling aspect of cosmic horror they're all clearly trying to recreate and it's honestly just exhausting to see

edited to add that we never ever ever get a resolution to the party disaster where ben barnes sees his gf's dad and runs away screaming. we just fast forward to like 50 years later or some shit and they're married with no explanation and the fact that ben barnes saw his gf's dad sucking on some woman's titties in a carriage with a gaping head wound the night before the party never comes up again.

#i critique this series more than any given shitty 80s slasher because it's got del toro's name on it and i expect more from him #it's also hyped as a really intellectual sort of 'elevated horror' series and i'm a lot less willing to let things slide #when you're marketing yourself as this slick high-art visual feast with cosmic horror undertones #cosmic horror is also VERY finicky so if you don't hit the nail on the head #which is almost impossible imo #you end up with a pile of absolute garbage #there's no middle ground to be had here

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mikeshanlon · 7 years ago

Text

he’s all that: chapter one

fandom: it

pairing: reddie (richie tozier/eddie kaspbrak)

word count: 3.8k

on ao3

summary:

Richie smiled smugly, “You’ve got spunk Kaspbrak. I like that.”

“Why don’t you try shutting the fuck up Tozier,” Eddie retorted as the line moved forward, “So what is this, if not some ploy to get me to tutor you? Some sort of dork outreach program? Because I’m not interested.”

---

Or: The one where Richie Tozier has six weeks to get into a relationship and make someone fall for him. Only problem? That someone is the anxiety ridden, goody two shoes Eddie Kaspbrak, and he can't even stand to be in the same room as Richie.

warnings: there is drug use in that bev/mike/richie are HUGE stoners.

a/n: hello!!! hope you enjoy this fic, i will try to update it at least every other sunday (i'll figure out the exact number of chapters before i post chapter two, but it probably won't be more than 10). you don't need to have watched she's all that to get this, although there will be some small easter eggs/quotes from the movie. but the movie has not aged well and is very Heteronormative so like.... no need to watch it lmao.

Senior year— it was what just about any kid in the public schooling system looked forward to. You were high school royalty, enjoying the last hurrah with booze and dancing before being sent off to make your mark on the world. Lanky limbs that weren’t yet grown into became muscled and toned, hips were wider and swayed. Brains were wiser, skin was touched more, and smiles were brighter. It was a time of transformation and change.

Except, senior year was almost over, and Richie Tozier felt like he hadn’t really changed at all. Sure, in the last four years he shot up to 6’2, his voice was deeper, and he wasn’t such a fucking outcast; but really nothing else felt different. He still only passed his classes on genius alone, had a problem respecting authority figures (partially due to the fact that his parents were still pieces of shit), and never knew when to shut the fuck up.

Derry, Maine itself stayed the same too, like a town in a snow globe encased with mom-and-pop businesses and ignorance. Other than iPhones, the small Starbucks on the corner of Main and Belmont, and the fact that the townspeople were slightly less homophobic and racist (slightly being the operative word); Derry was pretty much a time capsule for banana bikes, bullies, and double features with popcorn that had too much salt and not enough butter.

Take the cliques and social hierarchy-- a staple in any American high school, especially one in a small town. Despite it being the 21st century, the cafeteria still had tables for jocks, geeks, nerds, and preps, straight from some 80’s or 90’s teen flick.

Richie, like most things in his life, didn’t necessarily fit into one group or the other, toeing the line between social pariah and popular party dude. He supposed it was the side effects of being the class clown with too-big-for-his-face glasses, a diagnosis for ADHD, and his tendency blazing at any given moment. Funny and wild enough to show up to any party, but not exactly cool enough to hang out with for anything else.

Honestly, it didn’t matter either way, because instead of worrying about what table to eat the cafeteria’s barely edible food at, Richie usually spent his lunch smoking with his friends. It was time to catch up and unwind before the last few classes of the day— and there was no way he could get through chemistry without being high.

As soon as the shrill bell rang, Richie hopped out of his seat, grabbing his shit before placing his (probably failed) history quiz on the teacher’s desk on his way out into the halls.

He weaved through the couples sucking face and the worried AP students, his unruly black curls bouncing like a hyperactive halo around his head as he walked towards his locker.

“‘Sup Tozier!” someone called out to him, a familiar face at the weekend ragers, although he never learned his actual name.

Richie nodded, “Hey, what’s up Keg King?”

“Not much. Hey, you coming to see me defend my title this weekend?”

“Wouldn't miss it for the world,” Richie smiled lazily, patting the other boy on the back before strolling along.

It wasn’t a coincidence that his smile faltered as he passed what was left of the Bower’s gang. He and Hockstetter had graduated the year prior, although like most bumfuck racists hellbent on beating up ‘dorks and queers’, they stayed in Derry. The remaining two, Belch and Victor Criss, weren’t nearly as powerful or psychotic as their elders, but they had a reputation to uphold. They weren’t exactly slamming him down on the asphalt in front of the arcade like they did in middle school, but they weren’t friendly either. Mutual respect was even a stretch. He’d enjoy seeing them get their asses handed to them, and he was sure they felt the same.

Richie popped open his locker, catching the loose papers and pencils that inevitably fell out. A small mirror hung on the blue metal door, rendered practically useless because of all the smudges covering it. The remaining space was littered with stickers of indie bands, and post-its with doodles and notes to himself or from his friends.

Have a great day trashmouth <3- bevs

Sparknotes ‘Pygmalion’

Come to the quarry after school!-mike

It’s a good day to be gay

Next time u get drunk enough 2 facetime us reading the entire bee movie script pls invite us so we dont have 2 deal w/ that sober- b+m

Buy more cigs and weed

U lewk hott big sexxxi ;) - xoxo

Richie was unashamed to say he wrote the last one to himself one day when he looked particularly good.

He struggled to stuff his history folder into the looming mess, but eventually crammed it in there, slamming the door shut before anything else could fall out.

After checking that he did indeed have his lighter, bag of weed, and papers in his denim jacket, Richie made his way to their usual spot. They liked to smoke at the stairs behind the art room, which was tucked away in the back of the school, overlooking the field that separated them and the middle schoolers.

Throwing open the orange door to the stairs in his usual dramatic fashion, he found his two closest friends, “Ms. Marsh, Lord Michael, how fare thee chaps today?” Richie greeted in his (awful) british accent.

Beverly Marsh rolled her eyes as she lit her joint, “Fine, until I heard that horrible voice.”

Richie threw a hand on his chest, a pained expression painted on his face, “Oh, how you hurt me so.”

“Hey, I mean it is his best impression,” Mike Hanlon commented from the steps, fist bumping Richie as he sat down across from Beverly on the top of the stairs, back to the railing. The sweet boy lit up the bowl in his pipe, inhaling deeply.

“Aw, thank you Mikey, you sure know how to make a girl swoon,” he cooed, mimicking a southern belle.

“Well, you don’t really have any good one’s in the first place,” Mike smirked, blowing out the smoke in his mouth while Beverly snorted, taking another drag.

Richie rolled his eyes, taking out his bag of weed, “Fuck off Hanlon.”

Mike extended an olive branch in the form of paper lunch bag filled with a sandwich, chips, and a can of coke. It was a daily occurrence for them— the Tozier’s rarely had any food, and even if Richie wanted to eat from the cafeteria, he didn’t exactly get a lot of money from them.

“My upcoming munchies thank you dear friend.”

He opened his bag of weed, attempting to balance the paper on his knees so he could roll his own joint. This failed miserably as the weed fell out, getting all over his Radiohead t-shirt.

“Shit.”

Beverly sighed, holding out her hand, “Let me roll it Tozier, you and I both know I’m better at it anyways.”

“What?! I’m perfectly capable of doing it by myself. I roll a damn good joint Marsh,” he shot back incredulously.

She plucked a stray piece of weed and gave him a pointed look. Richie groaned before handing his stuff over, Beverly handing him her own joint to smoke on in the meantime.

“How’s your day been Rich?” Mike asked from his spot on the steps. Typical farm boy, concerned with his friends. Richie often wondered how such an angelic person hung out with him and Bev, but Mike had his fair share of rebellious traits.

“Ah, well, you can tell it’s been just dandy. I can’t wait till we get out of this fucking hell hole,” Richie scoffed before taking a hit.

“Only seven more weeks,” Beverly reminded, eyes and hands focused on rolling.

Mike nodded, “Crazy. Can’t believe we’re finally graduating.”

“Thank fucking god, Derry is a suffocating shithole,” he said, “I know I’m an idiot, but Jesus, everyone here is a fucking bigot.”

“Yeah,” Mike agreed, not saying much else. They understood. It was hard being one of the only black kids in school, let alone pansexual (although most people didn’t know this about him). The prejudice he faced wasn’t something he often spoke about, trying to be as positive as possible.

“This kid in english was saying bisexuals are sluts today,” Richie successfully blew a few smoke rings, “Like, I am one, but not because of my sexuality, asswipe.”

Bev laughed humorlessly, handing Richie the freshly rolled joint and taking back her own, “No need to tell me what that’s like.”

No, the redhead had been getting called a slut over nothing since the seventh grade; the rumors and shaming only getting worse when she too came out as bi.

A comfortable and reflective silence fell over the three, occupied with their thoughts and getting high. Richie placed the joint in between his chapped lips; struggling to light the tip as his white lighter sputtered, on it’s last moments of life. Mumbled expletives fell out of his mouth before he was successful, inhaling deeply and holding the smoke in before letting it all escape.

His dark brown eyes scanned the poorly maintained sports field, filled mostly with middle schoolers running around and yelling. Part of him envied the carefree nature of it all, but the other remembered how fucking shitty middle school was and any jealousy washed away.

Not too far from them was what was dubbed as ‘the kissing tree’. The old trunk was littered with carvings, initials surrounded by hearts claiming that their love was ‘forever’. It was juvenile, small town as fuck, and heteronormative— though most things surrounding romance in Derry were.

Of course, Richie had been obsessed with it as a preteen, and knew his own name was on there (a few times).

What caught his eye now were the couple under it, making out passionately, flush against one another, like if they stopped they’d die.

Honestly, that would be preferable, as one of them was Gretta Keene, one of Richie’s biggest mistakes.

Gretta was one of the most popular girls in school, and she was also a grade A bitch. Her green eyes sent glares akin to daggers, and her lipgloss covered lips provided insults that went too far. Including frequently calling Beverly a slut.

It wasn’t like Richie had a huge crush on her or anything. Their relationship was merely born from constantly being at the same parties, cross faded and wanting a quick hook up to distract themselves. Mike had commented that it was only a matter of time, except one became many more, despite the fact that Gretta only got with jocks.

Their arrangement caused Bev to freeze Richie out for two months last semester, breaking their four year streak for best couples costume at Betty Ripsom’s annual Halloween Party. Bev was more important to him by a long shot, but per usual, he kept fucking everything up.

Most of their ‘moments’ were shared in some stranger's bed, or dancing in a kitschy living room to pop music, sharing a blunt or swigs from a bottle of whiskey. None of it was on purpose, but rather a byproduct of being intoxicated and having a high sex drive.

In fact, they had only been on two actual dates when they were together. The first was at the drive-in a town over, the pair sat in Richie’s beat up station wagon, some shitty b-movie playing on the large projector. Gretta shared a pack of cigarettes with him, and it was probably the only kind thing she had ever done. Richie tried to make conversation, so that their relationship actually had some sort of substance other than weed and alcohol; but Gretta quickly shut him up, sticking her cherry coke flavored tongue down his throat.

He took her out to his favorite diner for their other date, figuring that they might have a chance to actually get to know one another without an acceptable place to make out. They sat on opposite sides of a booth outlooking Main street, an old-timey song playing on the jukebox.

This plan proved to be a grave mistake, because Richie finally understood why Bev often said, “Satan himself thinks Gretta Keene is too cruel.”

He repressed the memory, if he remembered it he’d get too pissed off. Instead, Richie thought of their break-up, how she had beat him to the punch.

He had been waiting at her locker, leaning against #405 and picking at his nails, humming a song by The Smiths under his breath. Gretta approached, clad in a pink mini-skirt and a tight crop top, smacking her half-priced bubblegum.

Richie cleared his throat, standing upright, ready to chew her the fuck out for being such a horrible person, “Gretta, let’s talk—“

“We’re through Tozier.”

“What the fuck?!” He had gaped at her, “No, I was going to breakup with you!”

Gretta shooed him away with her manicured hands, “Please, you’re a fucking nobody. Irrelevant. You should be glad we even fucked around this long.”

A small crowd had formed around the two, “You’re the one who kept coming back for more.”

“And you’re the one who actually thought this could be something. So cute. But I don’t date losers and I don’t date attention-whores like you.”

Like he said, grade A bitch.

“Jealous?” Mike snapped Richie from his thoughts.

His cheeks reddened, embarrassed that he was caught staring, “What? No. I pity the poor bastard that’s with her. Fucking breath smells like a fucking dog ate a pack of Winston’s. Straight up ass.”

Beverly chuckled, but her eyes held a little bit of resentment, “You used to smoke those Winston’s with her.”

“I thought we had an agreement that we would never speak of the Great Gretta Keene Mistake again?”

“Sure, but you’re the one watching her,” Mike pointed out, packing a new bowl, “Missing the one that got away?”

The other boy’s tone was joking but Richie sent him a glare, “She’s fucking irrelevant to me okay?”

They hummed in agreement, but he could see the slight doubt on their faces.

Richie ripped open his bag of chips and threw one in his mouth, “She thinks she’s such hot fucking shit, but she’s so replaceable.”

“Richie, it’s rude to speak with your mouth full,” Mike admonished his bad manners.

“That’s not what your ol’ pops said last night when I was suck-“

“Beep beep, Richie,” Mike warned.

Bev shook her head, “Really Rich? His grandpa?”

“When opportunity strikes,” he flashed a shit eating grin before taking another hit.

“Anyways, while I second the sentiment that Gretta isn’t all that, you haven’t exactly had a relationship since her,” Bev accused.

“Okay, what the fuck is this, ‘pick on Richie day’?” he said, readjusting his position, “Besides, I’ve been with plenty of other people.”

“Please, this isn’t middle school, and I’m still not buying the whole ‘my bedpost is covered in notches’ bit,” Bev inspected the joint between her fingers, now just a stub.

“Well, obviously it’s not. I’ve had sex in many different beds. Yours included,” Richie smirked.

“Beep beep. You know you aren’t allowed over after you almost burned down my aunt’s apartment.”

“The apartment was fine. Everyone knows if you put the temperature up super high food cooks faster. Those tater-tots would’ve been delicious. Bon-appetit,” Richie spoke in a poor french accent, and his eyes widened, “Bon-appetot. Bon-appetatertot.”

He fell into a fit of giggles and Mike chuckled across from him.

“You are a walking disaster Richie Tozier,” Bev said, though an amused smile sat on her lips.

“Richie’s poor life choices aside… One night stands and drunken make out sessions don’t count,” Mike returned to their previous topic, “I mean something sort of serious. Something you put effort into.”

“I don’t put effort into anything Michael dear,” Richie countered.

“Not true. You put effort into a lot of dumb shit,” Bev put out her joint, “Like when you tried to climb the water tower at 3 am naked. Or the time you tried to get the principal to grind with you at homecoming.”

“You can’t blame me for that. Mrs. Marton is a vixen. Can’t believe she resisted my charms.”

Mike laughed, shaking his head, “Point is, it kinda seems like you’re stuck in a rut.”

“I get plenty of action,” Richie boasted, taking a drag from his joint, “Plus, I could make any girl or guy in this piece of shit school fall in love with me.”

“That a bet?” Bev grinned mischievously.

“You know what, why the fuck not?” Richie shrugged. He was bored, and he wanted his friends off his fucking back, “Terms and conditions?”

“Mike and I get to choose the sorry fuck who you’ll be pursuing—“

“No, I don’t wanna be a part of this. Isn’t it kinda fucked up? Getting with someone for a bet? Why don’t you just try to date someone without an ulterior motive?” Mike suggested.

Richie rolled his eyes, adopting an Australian accent, “Now where’s the fun in that mate?”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“You get till prom to sweep this person off their feet. A committed relationship, not just a hookup. If you win I’ll get you a shit ton of the finest weed the county can offer,” Bev continued, “If you lose—“

“No need to tell me, because I won’t fail,” Richie smirked, “I’m a total knockout.”

Bev’s face mirrored his own, “Fine, it’s your funeral.”

Both of them spit into their palms before shaking their hands, bonding the bet.

“C’mon, let’s go find them— you only have six weeks.”

The three of them packed up their shit, passing around the rest of Richie’s joint so it wouldn’t go to waste before they headed inside. Bev spritzed some perfume on them in an attempt to mask the smell of weed, making Richie smell fruity and floral. He popped a stick of spearmint gum in his mouth, deciding to save his sandwich for AP Calc next block.

It was a rare occurrence for them to roam the halls before the lunch bell rang, so a few of the students stared at them as they went on their search. Mike smiled at just about everyone they passed, a fucking angel per usual.

“What about him, he’s kinda cute,” Bev suggested, nodding her head to a blonde boy holding a skateboard.

Richie shook his head, “We made out at that beach bonfire over the summer. He almost vommed in my fucking mouth. The money maker! These beautiful lips are fuckin sacred— how could I smooch and tell amazing jokes if he fucked em up? These babies ooze charisma and sex appeal.”

“More like ooze bullshit,” Mike quipped.

“I think you’re just jealous that you won’t be the one I’m wooing Mike n Ike.”

Bev snorted, “I pity the poor fuck who you’ll be annoying till prom,” her eyes lit up, and she turned to Mike, “Hey, we might be able to enjoy some peace and quiet for a while!”

“The minute we became best friends with Richie I gave up all hope for tranquility.”

“Hey!” He protested, although Mike was right.

“And I wouldn’t have it any other way,” the other boy finished sweetly.

Richie planted a sloppy kiss on his cheek, “Oh Mikey, you are the most wholesome-est boy I ever did meet,” he slipped into his southern belle persona, “What about you Bevvy darlin’, got any words to butter up my biscuit? To milk my udder?”

She rolled her eyes and continued walking ahead of them, turning into another hallway.

“Fine, I know you love me Marsh,” Richie used his long lanky legs to his advantage, catching up to stroll alongside her quickly, “What about Betty Ripsom?”

Bev scoffed, “Please, too easy.”

“What?! She’s like, a good ol’ Christian girl. I’m a deviant! My skype username used to be tozier666! Or wait, it was tozier42069… I can’t remember.”

“C’mon Richie, we all know she had a massive crush on you freshman year,” Bev replied.

Mike nodded in agreement, “You wouldn’t shut up about it.”

“Like most things,” Bev said, “Anyways, you’d just use that to your advantage. Although, I am liking the whole ‘polar opposite’ approach.”

Richie groaned, of course he had a hand in his own misfortune.

They continued to travel the halls, Beverly’s baby blue eyes scouring for a victim.

“You sure are digging your own grave today Rich,” Mike commented.

Richie nodded, “R.I.P. Richard Tozier. Big Mouth and even Bigger Wan—“

“Found ‘em,” Bev interrupted, a grin on her face.

She pointed down the hallway in front of them, where two boys conversated as everyone walked around them. The taller one had auburn hair, and was lanky like Richie, although the other boy seemed a little more muscular. The other looked like a fucking middle schooler, and Richie wasn’t sure how the little brat even got in there.

It took a minute, but Richie realized that he did actually recognize them. They didn’t interact much, not being in the same circles, but the two boys had been going to school with him since the days of recess. And they had been bullied since then too.

So, correction, she pointed to where two of the biggest losers in school were talking about what was presumably some nerdy shit. Great.

“What, Big Bill?” Richie raised an eyebrow, “He’s not too bad. Ignore the stutter and the fact that he’s best friends with total dorks and you have a shy lil cutie. Nice handiwork Marsh.”

“You know, you’re a total dork and we’re still friends with you,” Mike quipped, his own way of chastising Richie.

Bev shook her head ‘no’, “Not Denbrough, the other one.”

Richie’s eyes settled on the smaller boy, and the realization that he was totally and utterly fucked set in.

Eddie Kaspbrak. The kid peaked at 5’6, and his lack of muscles along with the fact that he wore an honest to fucking god fanny pack didn’t help his 12 year old boy appearance. Of course, the fanny pack got worse— it was full of pills, eye drops, hand sanitizer, lotion, chapstick, and most importantly, his inhaler. Yes, Eddie was a fucking asthmatic hypochondriac and germaphobe, with an equally insane mother. Richie didn’t doubt that the asshole spent more time perusing WebMD than texting or checking social media.

He wore chunky turtlenecks in the winter, and in the hotter months, his tanned legs adorned tube socks and short-shorts (they were awful, although Richie had to admit they made his ass look great). His small hands gripped onto his stuffed backpack (kid already had a fanny pack full of shit, what else did he have to bring to school?). Eddie’s brown hair was always found in a overly gelled comb over, not a hair out of place. He reminded Richie of an off-brand Fred Savage with severe anxiety.

Mostly, Richie knew Eddie Kaspbrak would hate just about every little thing he did. There was no way they’d even be friends, let alone anything more.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me Bev.”

a/n: thanks for reading!!! richie and eddie will actually talk next chapter, don't worry. also for any concerned about the gretta/richie thing it's not Too Big of a Deal as it is in the movie, i just need it for some plot points (but overall richie is like 100% over gretta and it was just something stupid he did).

#reddie #richie x eddie #it fic #reddie fic #he's all that #my fic #yeah idk what to tag this as go read it on ao3 wlnglerngerlgknrglkerng

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