#when she pulled her wig I thought that she was secretly sick

[titfairy]

Madeline Usher

[somethinginthewayiam]

Request - Off limits

a/n: I’m sorry this took forever but I couldn’t come up with something that worked. I hope you liked how it turned out!

Warnings: angst, asshole!Henry, language, some PG (I guess) smut at the end

Words: 2247

Summary: You are a PA on the set of the Witcher and after just a few days, Henry requests you as his personal PA for the shoot. You’re super excited as you secretly have a thing for him, even though he is off limits as you work for him now. But he is not at all as you had expected...

You were a PA at the Witcher production. You were originally ordered to be a general PA, helping out where needed, but a few days in, Henry requested you to be his personal PA for the whole shoot. You were of course intimidated by him. He just oozed BDE and the arrogance that came with it.

You were into him long before you had gotten the job. Not that you could actually pursue him in any way as you worked for him and that meant he was off limits to you. Best thing about your job though, you were able to gawk at him all day and had the best excuse ever: it was your job! It was all fine in the beginning, but soon, things got weirder and weirder.

First of all, Henry wasn't as nice and a gentleman as everyone always made him out to be. At least, not to you. You saw him being the nicest and most polite guy to pretty much everyone besides you. It started with harsh orders to get him coffee, to bring his jacket or to get his car ready to go home at night. You felt more and more intimidated by him, afraid almost.

 Right when he first came across you on set, Henry was somehow fascinated by you and your whole nature. That’s why he requested you for himself. He regretted his decision pretty soon after as you were off limits to him because you pretty much worked for him (a rule he had set up for himself years ago and every time he broke it, he was reminded why he had set it up originally).

There were no real rules within the crew though that forbid from dating and definitely not from flirting. Henry had noticed that some guy from catering had caught your attention and you two flirted with each other in more or less subtle ways. To say he was annoyed was an understatement.

Henry was not allowed to have you, but that didn’t mean he liked watching you flirt with other guys.

 One day, when Henry ordered you to bring his food, he told you, you had to eat with him in his trailer. But not to get to know you as you had hoped in the beginning, hoping this would be the start of a better working relationship. No!

He didn't want to eat alone, but also didn't want to get into a conversation as he wanted to stay in character. That’s how he explained it to you in some short sentences when you dared to ask him. He didn’t want to be impolite to the rest of the team, but you didn’t count.

So, he forced you to eat with him in his trailer in silence. The tension in the room killed your appetite, but you still ate your lunch as you were afraid that he might get mad at you. When you didn't touch your food in the beginning, he literally growled at you in a Geralt kind of way until you started eating with hesitation.

 Every time he saw you talking to a man, he ordered you over to him and gave you a new task. You only noticed that a few weeks in because every time you talked to a woman, nothing happened.

What annoyed you even more in all of that was that you still thought about him in dirty ways. Being on set when they shot those love-making or after-sex scenes didn't help either. Being there when they shot the bathing scene for episode 5 almost killed you.

You handed him the bathrobe as he came to you after they yelled cut. He snapped his fingers as he rushed off, signaling you to follow him to his trailer.

You hurried to catch up to him and only did when he ripped open the door of this trailer. He stepped in before you and you quickly followed, closing the door behind you. “Hey, big boy”, you greeted Kal with a pat to his head when he came to greet you too.

“What was that?”, Henry turned towards you, burning a hole in you with this gaze. “I-I was talking to Kal”, you stuttered and stood up straight again. “And I thought you finally had a nickname for me”, he smirked at you with a dirty grin. You blushed immediately, your heart starting to pound faster in your chest.

“I saw you staring when I was in that bath”, he said and his voice was almost just a growl. The hair in your neck pricked up. Your whole body was on alert. You couldn’t tell if he was mad at you or making fun of you. Thinking of your working relationship over the past few weeks, it was probably the first thing.

“Help me get changed to go home and you might get another look”, he told you and leaned against the little table in the seating corner of the trailer, a smug grin on his lips. His hands were on each side of his body, supporting his weight on the table.

Your eyes narrowed at him, not knowing if he was joking. What exactly was he getting at here? And something in you just snapped.

He treated you like shit all this time and now he dared to make a move on you? You were fed up. You had enough of Mr. Big-Ego-Moviestar. You didn’t care if you got fired for this.

“I work for you, yes, but I am not your fucking slave! If you get off on that shit then get some bimbo to be your bitch and let me do my fucking job!", you called him out on all the shitty things he had done to you. Only when you’re done you realize that his whole face had changed. Even Kal had gone hiding under the little table of the trailer at your loud tone.

“I thought we’re just playing around”, Henry admitted, honestly shocked. “Maybe you were playing some sick game. I was afraid of losing my job, you, you…asshole”, you screamed at him. “Get off your high horse and try to live in the real world for a second. You were abusing our work relationship for your sick pleasure”, you spat at him.

You turned on your heels and stormed outside, finding Rebecca, the boss of all the PAs, close by. "You have to reassign me! I can't do this anymore. This guy is batshit crazy", you almost yelled at her as well. "Y/N, what are you talking about?", she asked you startled. "I'm talking about Henry! He is...", you said and as you talked you noticed how her eyes looked at something or someone behind you.

The next moment, you got lifted off in the air and thrown over somebody's shoulder. Not just someone, Henry's. As he still had the white-haired wig on, you recognized him although you couldn't see his face.

"What the fuck, Henry?! Put me down! Put me down!", you yelled at him, hitting his back with your fists. You probably hurt yourself more than him. He only put you down when he was back inside his trailer. He closed the door behind him and looked at you with a serious face.

“What the hell was that? Have you lost your mind?”, you asked and walked backwards until your backside hit the edge of the little table, which wasn't far. But every inch between you and Henry was better than nothing.

“I think we got off on the wrong foot”, Henry said and held up his hands, signaling you that he won’t come closer. “I think the only one that got off was you”, you snorted and crossed your arms in front of your body. Henry let his head hang in defeat and exhaled loudly.

“Please let me explain”, Henry tried again. You got startled because this was the first time he had used the word please when talking to you. You looked at him but kept your arms crossed.

“I requested you as my PA because I liked you”, he started. “What a way to show that”, you interrupted him and arched your left eyebrow. Your voice dripped with sarcasm. “I see that now”, he lightly nodded his head before he continued.

“But then I found myself liking you too much although I wasn’t allowed to and pushed you away before something could…happen”, he explained to you and it looked like he was in pain. Your brain had trouble comprehending what he was telling you as it was so far from everything you had expected him to say.

“What the hell are you talking about?”, you blurted out. You were getting a headache from his words spinning in your head.

He opened his mouth to say something, but closed it again. He came the two steps towards you, standing very close to you now. You had to tilt your head quite far to be able to look him in the face. His eyes wandered from your eyes to your lips and back up. “I really like you, Y/N”, he said with emphasis on “really”.

“You seriously need to change your way of showing that”, you told him and put your chin forward. You had enough of backing down from him.

You were waiting for him to say something, having a comeback to your “suggestion”. But he just leaned down and kissed you. Just like that.

Your eyes got big out of surprise, but this way you saw that his were closed. You kissed him back almost immediately, your eyes fluttering close.

He came even closer and pressed you against the edge of the table, forcing you to uncross your arms and bracing yourself on the table top behind you. He bent you backwards while kissing by pushing his whole body against you, his hands resting on the table next to yours.

His tongue slipped in your mouth, exploring. The kiss was surprisingly gentle considering the tone of your relationship so far.

When he pulled back, his face stayed close to yours, your breaths quickened. “Fuck, it’s even better than I imagined”, he mumbled and you could feel his breath on your face.

He stood back up and you followed him like he was a magnet that pulled you with him.

“Henry…”, you breathed out and looked up at him. You didn’t know what to think let alone say right now. This came to you as a total surprise. And yet…it was everything you had ever hoped for.

“I’m sorry for the way I treated you. I really wasn’t thinking straight”, he apologized and took a step back. “And I’m sorry for the kiss. This was wrong for so many reasons”, he shook his head at himself.

Your fingers came up to your lips as they still tingled from his touch. To your surprise, you already missed his lips on yours.

You closed the gap between the two of you. You got on your tiptoes the same time your arms snaked around his neck, pulling Henry towards you. You pressed your lips on his again, your tongue darting forward. He opened his mouth immediately and welcomed you in.

His hands found your ass and squeezed it lightly before he went a little further and lifted you up. You put your legs around his waist automatically.

He carried you to the table and placed you on it. He stood between your legs and ran his hands through your hair as he deepened the kiss. Only when your fingers travelled up to his hair, you remembered that he was still wearing his wig. So, you were pretty much making out with Geralt right now.

You pulled back and broke the kiss. “I think you need to get out of your costume”, you mumbled, feeling light-headed from the kiss. Your lips felt a bit swollen and the skin around your mouth must be read from the scratches of his stubble.

Henry’s eyes looked equally cloudy as he came back to his senses. He still tasted you on his lips and he wanted more. So much more.

Only when he heard you talking, he realized that he was still in his Geralt-look. “I think you’re right”, he said and leaned his forehead against yours, a smile appearing on his lips.

“Will you still be here when I come back?”, Henry asked you. “It’s my job to be here”, you answered.

Henry pulled back and looked at you with furrowed brows. His eyes were scanning your face. “Do you still want to be here when I come back?”, he rephrased it.

Slowly, the corners of your lips started curling upwards. “If you behave from now on?”, you asked in return. “Do you mean the kissing?”, he smirked at you. “I mean everything BUT the kissing”, you replied and a devilish grin appeared on his face.

“I think we need to start this whole work relationship over”, he said and took a step back, helping you off the table. “So, you’ll behave from now on?”, you asked him again and didn’t know yourself if you were including what had just happened between you. “Only when you want me to”, he stated and presented you with a playful smile.

 You kept on eating with him alone in his trailer, but from now on, it was to get to know each other better and to steal some kisses before you had to be back on set.

[raviposting]

Hey guys! I have a fic that’s based off of @niamaggie ‘s prompt list, the prompt is as follows: 

Prompt: There’s more to Alex’s story with his family outside of what Luke said. They don’t just disapprove of him, they outright pretend he doesn’t exist. It gets to a point where he completely breaks down in the studio after having a bad practice day (the kind of day where nothing is going right). Being a ghost, is like what his family did to him, but on a much bigger scale. It’s much harder to deal with...Just want the band to comfort him, please.

Huge thank you to @superbandnerd99 for beta-reading! I’ve tagged people under the cut who liked my excerpt post; please let me know if you want to be untagged!

Crossposted to AO3 (properly formatted here) 

Fic:  Ghost in the Family 

Alex had told himself that he was going to be fine being in his old home. It was fine. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t stepped foot in the house in twenty-five and a half years. It was fine. It was fine. 

Sure, his stomach was twisting in knots and he felt like his heart could beat out of his nonexistent chest - actually, wait. Could it do that? He still wasn’t sure how much their new solidity worked and the thought of his chest literally beating out of his chest was almost as terrifying as the thought of stepping back into his family home was. 

Okay. He was doing it again. Spiraling, as Julie liked to call it. Or totally wigging out, dude, as Reggie liked to call it. Or haha, wow, look at this dude lose it, guys, as Carlos liked to - okay. Alex sighed, shaking out his hands and staring at his house. It hadn’t changed a bit over the past 25 years, save for a new white mailbox with an American flag emblazoned on the side. Alex couldn’t remember their old one, but he was pretty sure it was better than that. 

He walked up the steps slowly, each step closer feeling like another step towards his doom - which was dumb, of course, he had been the one to say he wanted to just check up on his parents, he was the one who told the rest of the band and Willie (and Carlos, who followed them around everywhere he physically could) to not come with him, he was the one who got it into this head that he needed to see his family again. 

He closed his eyes and took three deep breaths, trying to center himself. Relax, he told himself. They can’t see you. You’ll be fine. He breathed in deep again before opening his eyes and ringing the bell. 

The door opened, and Alex looked at the woman in front of him. “Mom?” he asked - a stupid question, because she was looking right through him and obviously wasn’t going to answer, and because if this woman was mom, she would have to be a ghost too. He squinted as the realization hit him. “Lizzie?” he asked this time. 

His sister looked around in confusion, for a millisecond looking right at him, and when he heard an old woman’s voice ask who was there, his sister shrugged and said, “Doorbell must be on the fritz.” 

Alex slipped in before she closed the door, and stared at the place he used to call his home. 

It hadn’t changed a bit. Well, it had changed a little since the day he had left. They had stripped away the carpet and there was a mahogany floor now. Alex wondered when that had happened. Certainly after he had left. He remembered the carpet covered with bits of glass after his father had thrown the family photos on the floor with such a force that the frames had cracked. Alex could remember the stony silence as he had stood there, staring at the pieces of glass glistening on the carpet, barely registering Luke’s hand on his own as he pulled him out the door. He had mumbled something about his clothes, only for Luke to say he had grabbed some, but when Alex was in the backseat of Reggie’s car looking through the duffel Luke had packed, the David Bowie sweatshirt he had borrowed from Reggie hadn’t been there alongside his favorite puka-shell necklace and Alex had tried to tell himself that it was okay even as the tears had run down his face and the pressure in his chest tightened so much that he felt like he was going to choke. 

Maybe that was his unfinished business, to give Reggie his shirt back? He wondered if it was still around, somewhere, but his thought was interrupted when he felt his sister walk through him. God, what a weird thing to experience, Alex could always feel people’s emotions when they passed through and it unnerved him whenever it happened. As she passed through him there was a hint of - anxiety? No, not quite, he told himself. It felt a bit like his anxiety creeping up, but while he would feel like there was something in his chest tightening as it tried to get out, this felt heavier somehow, like a great big nothing that could swallow him whole if he let it. But there was a warmth there too, slow and steady, that let him know without a doubt that this was his older sister. 

He wondered where Nina, his younger sister was, but one look at the family photos on the wall answered his question. An unfamiliar woman was on the wall, side-by-side with a brown-haired man, two smiling babies on their laps. Nina must have moved out ages ago. His eyes flitted to the photo next to it. Nina and Lizzie were there, their arms around an older woman with long graying hair and an old man with his mouth set in a straight line but a smile in his eyes. The family photos littering the staircase didn’t seem to have him on it at all, just photos of Lizzie and Nina and his parents. It was as if every trace of him was gone from their lives, down to the pictures. 

Two figures walked down the stairs, and Alex backed up quickly, giving them a wide berth. He knew they could pass through them and could already hear Reggie and Luke’s voices in his head reminding him that he was a ghost, it was fine, but the thought of Alex’s parents passing through him made Alex feel sick in a way that he couldn’t quite explain. He followed his parents as they sat down in the living room, his mother on her phone and his father turning on the television to watch some sitcom. His mother leaned towards his dad, showing him something funny on her phone, and the two laughed, and when Lizzie came over and peered at the image and joined in, the sounds mixing in with the canned laughter of the unseen audience from the sitcom. 

Alex tried peering over their shoulders to peek at the phone, but his dad’s frame kept blocking his view. “Just move for a second,” he said absentmindedly to his dad. “I want to see.” 

His father, of course, didn’t respond, and then the phone was put back into his mother’s pocket, Lizzie went towards the kitchen, and the house was quiet, besides the commercial about some discount furniture store playing on the screen. Alex stood in front of the television, watching his parents look through him. He would accompany Luke and Reggie to see their families from time to time. Luke’s parents always walked around like living ghosts, as if a little bit of the light had gone out of their eyes. Reggie’s would laugh and smile but stare off into the distance when they thought nobody was paying attention. 

Mom looked a little bored. Dad yawned. 

Alex felt the crushing anxiety switch to a feeling similar to anger, and it welled up in him as he slammed the wall in frustration. At the last second, he thought, No, maybe I should just phase through but his hand was already making contact and he could only soften the blow, making just a sad pitiful thump on the wall. 

His mother’s eyes went to the wall and furrowed in confusion, but his father waved his hand. “Bird probably hit the window again,” he said, and his mother shrugged, turning her attention back to the screen. 

“I - okay,” Alex sighed, the angry-adjacent feeling gone. He suddenly felt tired, and he walked out the door, leaving his unaware family behind. 

He moved past the people strolling down the sidewalk, narrowly avoiding bumping into people as he walked by. “Excuse me,” he muttered as he moved around a group of kids riding their bikes. He sidestepped one house’s sprinkles a second too late and he flinched slightly as the water shot out towards him until it passed through him and he sighed. Right. Ghost. 

It wasn’t until he had gotten to the garage door that he realized he could have just poofed home, and he blinked back tears. He couldn’t even be a ghost correctly. He squared up his shoulders and tried to make his face as light and casual as possible, and he poofed inside, where the band was already setting up for their next practice. 

“Alex!” Julie said, lighting up, though her eyes filled with concern when she saw his face. “Are you okay?” 

Well. There went light and casual. Yet another thing Alex couldn’t do, apparently. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Alex said, though even to himself it sounded like an obvious lie, but besides Luke and Reggie sharing a look that they thought he didn’t see, there were no further comments, and Alex sat down in front of his drums. 

Practice was a disaster. 

Alex tried staying on beat, but with every measure of the song, a new memory would come to him. 

Him locking eyes with Luke whenever Luke would turn during a performance, the way his heart would flutter when Luke winked at him.

Stuttering out a confession to Luke, only for Luke to lean in and kiss him on the lips, Alex staring at Luke and asking, “Does - does that mean you like me too?” 

Him telling his parents that he was gay, watching his father’s eyes glass over and just...getting up, ignoring Alex’s frantic, “Dad?” 

Of the one time his Dad had acknowledged him in months when he said he liked that young man Luke in his band, something that Alex thought was Dad was secretly telling him that he knew they were dating and was proud, and that they could tell him, that he was finally ready to see Alex. 

When his father slammed all the family photos and threw them on the ground, and Alex realized he had been so desperate for acceptance that he’d misunderstood his father’s comment, which meant nothing. Just like him. 

Him breaking down in the garage one month into living there, telling Luke that he didn’t think he could do this, any of it, and the hurt in Luke’s eyes before he told Alex that he had to do whatever was best for him. 

Alex was aware that the band had stopped playing and were staring back at him, concern clear in their eyes. 

I can’t even get it together for my band, he thought, and he threw his drumsticks down in frustration. They were moving towards him, and Alex felt the crushing feeling in his chest again except ten times stronger and the tears that had been threatening to flow ever since he had entered his parent’s home were now freely streaming down his cheeks. 

“Hey, hey, hey,” Julie said, and he felt three pairs of arms around him. “Tell us what’s wrong,” she said. “Don’t keep it in.” 

“I never gave you back your sweatshirt, Reggie,” Alex sobbed into what he thought was Reggie’s chest. 

“Uh, well, that’s fine,” Reggie said, a bit of confusion mixing in with his sympathy. “All of you always stole my clothes. I’m pretty sure Bobby’s still wearing my jeans, which honestly? Super dumb. We’ve been dead for 25 years, what’s his excuse for wearing the same clothes?” 

Alex laughed, and the group broke their hug, smiling along with him. Julie’s arm was on his back, Reggie still had his arm around Alex’s waist in a semi hug, and Luke was holding onto Alex’s hand. Alex looked down at their intertwined hands and then back at Luke, but instead of withdrawing, Luke simply squeezed his hand. 

“I’m guessing the family visit didn’t go so hot?” Reggie asked. It was blunt, but his tone was kind and he unconsciously gripped a little tighter onto Alex’s waist. 

“No,” Alex admitted. “I haven’t been there since...well you know, since I left, and it just…” he trailed off, not knowing how to continue. 

“Did it remind you of the day you left?” Julie asked, rubbing small circles on his back. His mom used to do the same for him as a kid whenever he came home sobbing because he messed up a performance or had answered a question wrong in class. The motion made him feel safe and comforted, even as it caused a heavy ache to spread across his chest. 

“No,” Alex said, wiping at his tears. “Or, kind of. It was definitely part of it, but being there just reminded me that…” he trailed off again, trying to think of the words.

Alex had hated the day he had left, but a sick part of him had been relieved when his father had thrown down all their photos and raved at how upset he was, at his mother sitting on the couch massaging her temple, saying that she was disappointed. 

It had been awful, but nothing compared to the months before. Throughout the day it was bearable - they all had their own things going on and it was easier to pretend like everyone was just busy instead of actively ignoring him - but whenever they sat down to eat was always the worst. Only Lizzie and Nina would be asked questions about their day and Alex would have to grab a plate because there were only four set on the table. Nina was so little that she thought it was a game and she’d grin with delight every time Alex asked for someone to pass the salt, giving her the chance to ask, “Did you guys hear something?” and lighting up every time their dad said, “No, I don’t think I did.” Lizzie would sigh at it and pass it to him, but even with her distaste at the petty shunning, she still wouldn’t look at him. He had asked her once, to look at him, and she had said, I am, all the while avoiding eye contact. 

“Me being a ghost and me being alive is the same thing,” he finally said. “That’s what it feels like. Every song we had was stolen by Bobby, nobody sees me if Julie’s not around, and there’s not a single picture of me up back home.” He gave a humorless laugh as a thought came to him. “I always felt like a ghost in my own home, and now I literally am.” 

“No, you’re not,” Luke said. 

“Well, you are a ghost,” Reggie added, and Julie nudged him. “Ow, what?”

“Okay, well you’re a ghost, true,” Luke amended. “But this is your home.” 

“And we see you,” Julie said. 

“And Willie, Flynn, Carlos, and Ray now too,” Reggie chimed in. “You may be dead, but your social life has never been better.” 

“And I don’t know how yet, but I will find a way to make sure everyone else can see you too,” Julie said, moving her hand from his back and holding on to his other free hand. “Not just when we’re performing. Always.” 

Alex looked into her eyes, wide and earnest, and he nodded. “Okay,” he said. It didn’t encompass what he thought - that he knew without a doubt that Julie was telling the truth, that she’d spend the rest of her life figuring out how to do it, that even if she couldn’t it still meant the world to Alex that she was going to try, no matter what. 

Luke spoke next. “And they may be your family on paper,” he said in the same carefully gentle voice he always used when he spoke about Alex’s family. “But we’re your family too. You’re our family.” 

“Nothing is ever going to change that,” Reggie said, and he got up. Alex looked up at him, expecting a mini-pep talk, but Reggie’s eyes filled with tears and he tackled Alex into a hug, knocking Alex back, chair and all. Julie and Luke shrieked as they fell backwards with him on the floor. 

Alex laughed and sat up (not easy, with Reggie still clinging onto him, but he got it done). He wrapped his now free hands around Reggie. “Okay, okay,” he said. “I know. We’re family.” 

“We definitely are,” Luke said, practically throwing himself onto the both of them and enveloping them both in a hug. 

Alex smiled at the two of them and then looked over at Julie, who had sat up and was smiling at the group, an unsure look on his face. 

“Julie,” Alex said lightly, “I think I need one more person hugging me to feel better.” 

She rolled her eyes, but the smile grew and the unsure look in her eyes disappeared, and she joined in on the group hug. 

The garage doors squeaked open, and Alex heard a sigh. 

“You guys are having another crying session?” Carlos asked, and the group broke apart.

“No,” Luke said, wiping at his eyes. 

“Sure,” Carlos said in a voice that yelled, I definitely don’t believe you. “Well, when you’re done not crying, Dad said it’s time for dinner, so hurry up.” 

With that, he was gone, and Julie got up from her spot on the floor. “Come on,” she said. “Let’s go have dinner.”

“Your dad remembers we’re ghosts, right?” Luke asked. 

“Nuh-uh, not this argument again,” Julie said, struggling and failing to keep her face serious. “You remember what Dad said last time you said that, family time -” 

“-is family time, whether you eat or not,” the rest of the boys finished, and Julie grinned.

“Exactly,” she said. “So come on.” 

“Just give me a second,” Alex said, and at the worried looks from his bandmates he gave them a reassuring smile. “I’m fine, don’t worry. I just want to clean up the equipment a bit and then I’ll be in.” 

Reggie patted him on the back and then he was out the door, yelling that he wanted to sit next to Ray, while Julie laughed and trailed after him. Luke reached over to squeeze Alex’s hand, and then he poofed away. Alex could already see Ray jump as Luke poofed into his usual seat next to Reggie and Julie, and Carlos’s eyes light up at the sight. They’d have the gluten-free-paleo-whatever tía Victoria had brought over for the week and Julie would absentmindedly pass him the salt to season his food. They’d say grace, and Ray would say thanks for the wonderful five kids in his house, something that had thrown Alex off the first time he had heard it but was grateful for each time. Afterwards, Carlos would show them some of those ghost hunting shows he liked to watch on you-tune or whatever - maybe Willie could even come by, if he was free, and they’d all circle around the screen and laugh as one of the guys fell over himself with every random noise. Julie would video call tía Victoria, who’d fawn over her niece and nephew and ask about the rest of the band, talking about how she had just seen yet another new performance of theirs and had loved it. 

Unbidden, an image of his sister and her family popped up in his head. It occurred to him, briefly, that he never got to see Nina and his nephews or nieces, wherever they were. Maybe he’d try again, this time bringing his entire family along. They never made the crushing feeling in his chest go away, but it didn’t feel like it was choking him and they made everything all the more bearable. Maybe he could go visit, he thought, getting up from the floor. Maybe it’d be good for him, maybe it wouldn’t, but they’d face it together and he knew they’d gladly come with him if he asked. Maybe he’d even take another visit to his parent’s house, and try to get closure much like Luke had some time ago. 

“Yo,” Carlos said, reappearing at the door and looking around the room. “You coming?” He stared just to the left of Alex (he was getting better at figuring out where the boys were without Julie, Alex had to give him that). 

Alex tapped his drum cymbal in response and Carlos grinned. “Oh that’s so cool,” he said. “And perfect, because I’m starving.” 

Alex grinned at the younger Molina and followed him out the door, his thoughts of his parents and his sister disappearing into the background. Maybe he’d do it, maybe he wouldn’t. He wasn’t sure yet. 

For now, though, he was going to have dinner with his family.

Tagging: @random-nerd-3 @glgrdsklechhh4 @thewickedandthehufflepuff @isnt-that-wizard @ellicxr @kymwitthaus @starryseavey @kristallbluemchen @fanficfighter @mariechensterntaler @iamtiredofmydreams @rubyblaze22 @speedycubed @tyrantlizard-king

[dlwritings]

Firecracker Soul | Dean Winchester

Chapter 20 - Bonnie and Clyde

pairing - mob!Dean x teacher!ofc

word count - 3,306

warnings - language, alcohol, fist fighting

additional notes at the end

(previous)

The next day, Alice and Christine met up for breakfast, as usual. Even though they were going to see each other in the evening at the party, they wanted to get breakfast anyway since they missed the week before. Plus, Alice wanted to prep Christine for meeting Dean, because even though she told Dean to be on his best behavior, it was Christine she was worried about.

"If I've said it once, I've said it a million times," Alice said, "Dean's really nice, so you have to be nice to him."

"I will, I will," she said with a roll of her eyes. "I'm just going to grill him on his intentions until he breaks."

"Christine," Alice whined.

"I'm joking, geez," Christine laughed. "I know he means a lot to you. I swear I'll play nice."

"And," Alice added, "don't talk about his job, okay? I'm pretty sure everyone who's there is going to be part of the family, but I don't want to take any chances. Plus, I don't even know if you're supposed to know about it."

"Well, you just eliminated my opening line," she said. "Hey Dean, you kill anyone lately?"

"Hilarious," Alice said.

"Does he have any cute workers?" she asked. "Any who are more around our age?"

"Mm, Jack probably won't be there," she said. "Kevin's kind of cute in like a nerdy-secretly-sexy way."

"I could be into that," she said.

"Is your only goal to get laid?" Alice asked.

Christine shrugged. "Not everyone has hot ass on tap."

After breakfast, Alice headed back home. She only had about an hour before she was going to go shopping with Hannah and Jess. She got a text from Jess that read, Making a Starbucks run. You want anything?

While she had just had coffee at breakfast with Christine, she couldn't turn down Starbucks. She told Jess what she wanted, thanked her, and in about a half hour, Jess texted that they had arrived. Christine headed down to the car, waving at the girls as soon as they could see her.

"Hey girlie," Jess said. "Your venti iced caramel macchiato."

"Thank you, thank you," she said, taking the drink. "So where are we shopping?"

"There's a designer dress shop about an hour away," Hannah explained. "You alright for a bit of a road trip?"

"Sure!" Alice said.

Their ride was filled with crowd pleasing classics -"Born in the USA", "Rocket Man", and the likes- and random chit chat about how everyone was doing. Jess didn't bring up the pregnancy -just as she said she wouldn't- but it was hard for Alice not to talk about it when it was the biggest event of her life at the present time.

When they got to the dress shop, Alice already saw dresses in the window that she liked. She was glad Dean offered to pay for whatever she got. Even though she didn't like him spending excessive amounts of money on her, she loved the idea of being able to dress up in something designer.

"How fancy is this event?" Alice asked, running her fingers over the fabric of the dresses. "Are we talking ball gowns?"

Jess chuckled. "Not that fancy. Maybe a-line? Trumpet? Column?"

"So floor length?" she clarified.

"You could do tea length," she said. "High-low."

"Got it," Alice said with a nod. "So lots of options."

"Exactly," Hannah said. "So let's get to it."

The shop may've been small, but it was chock full of dresses. They were there for at least an hour before they finally were all settled on what they were going to buy. Alice stood in front of the mirror in the dress and stared at her reflection. It was a high-low, asymmetrical dress with long sleeves and floral embroidery all across the torso and arms. She put her hands on her stomach and smoothed down the skirt.

"You look beautiful," Hannah said, her eyes meeting Alice's in the mirror. Jess was at the counter talking to the worker. Alice smiled.

"Thanks," she said. "Don't really feel like myself."

Hannah chuckled. "I didn't either the first time I got to dress like this."

"How long before you got used to it?" she asked.

"I'm still not sure I am," she said. Alice chuckled, then looked at her reflection again. "It suits you though," she added. Alice turned to face her.

"What does?" she asked.

"This life," Hannah said. "You take it all in stride. It's admirable. A lot of people can't handle it."

"How do you?" she asked. "Handle it, I mean."

While she loved talking to Jess, and she knew she once had experience as a mobster's wife, Hannah was in it then. Hannah thought for a moment. "It was hard for a while," she admitted, "mostly because of my job. I was already a councilwoman when I met Castiel. I felt like I was betraying everything I stood for if I was with him."

"But you don't feel that way anymore?"

Hannah shrugged. "I have lines I won't cross for him, and for the most part I just try to stay in the dark with what he does."

"And that works?" Alice asked.

Hannah nodded. "Yeah. We make it work. I decided that who Castiel is was more important to me than what he does for a living."

Alice nodded in understanding, then looked at her reflection one final time. "Yeah," she whispered. "I get that too."

-

Alice and Christine got ready for the party together at Alice's apartment. She told Dean she'd meet him there so that she could ride separately with Christine. Christine was going to the party dressed as a fortune teller. Her make-up and costume were both perfect and very much fit her aesthetic. Alice and Dean were going as Bonnie and Clyde, so Alice pretty much raided every thrift store in a 30 mile radius before she found all the right pieces.

Christine insisted on pregaming a bit before heading to the party, and Alice didn't care one way or another. She was posing as DD for the night, so she didn't need to come up with some bogus reason why she wasn't drinking. Christine was two jager shots in when she was finally ready to go. She was the perfect amount of tipsy to let go of her inhibitions for the start of the party.

When they got to Sam and Jess', it looked like everyone was already there from the amount of cars in the driveway. Alice was really excited. Halloween was a fun holiday, and any excuse to finally introduce Christine to Dean, she was game. She may've been nervous, but more than anything, she was ready. It was high time her boyfriend met her best friend.

Music was playing throughout the house when they walked inside, and Jess had really gone all out with decorations. "Alice!" She turned when she heard Jess' voice, then smiled as the girl jogged over to her. She was wearing black pants, a white button-up, a black bralette, and a jet-black, pixie cut wig. The trickle of fake blood on her nose made it clear that she was Mia Wallace from Pulp Fiction. She could only assume Sam was somewhere dressed as Vincent.

"Hey," Alice said, accepting the hug Jess was offering her. "Jess, this is my best friend, Christine."

"It's great to meet you," Christine said. Jess smiled and pulled her in for a hug too.

"You too," she said. "Your costume is great."

"Thanks," Christine said.

"Well, come on in," she said. "Alice, Dean is in the kitchen."

"Duh," she said. "Wherever the drinks are, Dean's not too far away."

The three of them walked through the house, and Alice could see Dean had her back to her -she'd recognize that perky butt anywhere- and she smiled to herself. She snuck up behind him and put her hands over his eyes. "There's no escaping now, Clyde," she said to him. Dean laughed and turned, holding Alice at arm's length.

"Well, don't you look beautiful, Bonnie," he said back. She stood on her tiptoes and placed a kiss to his lips. When they parted, Alice turned and looked at Christine again.

"Christine, this is Dean," she said. "Dean, this is Christine." Dean stuck his hand out to her.

"It's great to meet you," he said. "Alice has told me a lot about you."

"Same here," Christine said, taking his hand and shaking it. When they both dropped their hands, Dean wrapped his arm around Alice's waist. She leaned into him, resting her hand on his stomach.

"Where're Cas and Hannah?" she asked. "And Sam?"

"They're all around here somewhere," Dean said. "Might be playing games in the other room."

"You've got games?" Alice asked Jess.

"Duh," she said. "Grab your drinks, and I'll show you."

They had beer pong going outside on the patio, some people playing cards in the kitchen, and they even had a karaoke machine set up. Bobby and Rufus were singing a very drunken rendition of "The Gambler."

It looked like everyone -save Jack- from Dean's family was there, plus some people that must've worked with Jess and Sam that she didn't recognize. When Alice talked to Claire and Jody, she introduced her to her other adopted daughter-

"Alex?" Christine said with wide eyes.

"Oh my god," Alex said with a laugh. "Hey!"

"You guys know each other?" Jody asked.

"We work at the hospital together," Christine explained. Alice was thrilled that Christine knew -and clearly got along with- someone at the party, because it relieved some of the tension she had, worrying that Christine wouldn't have a good time or would need Alice to babysit her the whole night. Then again, Christine could make fun anywhere. Even if she hadn't known anyone, she would've made a friend eventually.

When Christine met Kevin, things seemed to actually spark between the two of them. Alice didn't know if he was her mister right or her mister right now, but regardless, Christine seemed happy, and that was all she wanted for her friend that night.

The party was a blast. Dean was the master at beer pong, though Alice stopped being his partner when she realized all she did was bring him down. With Sam, the duo was unstoppable. While it was fun to watch them, she did get sick of standing by and being his cheerleader. She walked over to him and placed a kiss to his cheek before he started another round. "I'm gonna go sit and talk to Charlie for a while," she said. "I'll cheer you on from over there."

"Okay," Dean said, flashing her a smile. He kissed her forehead, and she smiled back and headed over to join Charlie and Dorothy on the couch. Dorothy was -ironically- dressed as Dorothy from The Wizard of Oz. Her great-great-grandfather was actually the author of the book. Charlie was dressed as, she assumed, the brainless scarecrow from the tale.

They talked for a while until Sam and Dean challenged Dorothy and Charlie to a round of beer pong. Alice rolled her eyes but waved them away with a laugh. She made her way to the kitchen to get herself another glass of water. Only one other person was in the kitchen, and she didn't recognize him. He was around Sam's age, and he was dressed in a basketball uniform. "Hey," he said with a smile. "You must be the Bonnie to Dean's Clyde."

"Yeah," she said with a laugh. "That'd be me. I'm Alice."

"Jaden," he said. They shook hands, and he picked up a cup. "Can I make you a drink?"

"Nah, I'm DD," she said. "I'm just grabbing some more water."

"Taking one for the team, yeah?" he said.

"Well, someone's gotta do it." He smiled, and she poured herself some more water. "You work with Sam and Jess?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said with a nod, pouring himself some of the punch that was in the bowl. "They're offering me a spot in their firm so I can get out of the biglaw."

"You gonna take it?" she asked.

"Probably," he said. "Pay won't be as good, but I am pretty sick of these corporate jagoffs." She laughed and leaned her back against the counter. "What do you do?" he asked.

"I'm a first grade teacher," she said. "I actually teach Sam and Jess' daughter."

"Lexi?" he said with a smile.

"Mhm," she hummed.

"She's a sweet kid," he replied.

"Yeah," she agreed. "She's great. Most of my kids are."

"Most?"

"Well," she laughed, "not every kid's an angel."

He laughed and nodded. "You got that right." She cocked her head to the side.

"You have any kids?" she asked.

"Not that I know of."

They both laughed, but Alice's was cut short when someone put their hand on her shoulder. She turned and saw Dean. She could tell by the tenseness in his jaw that he was pissed. "Hey, Dean," she said, giving him a smile in an attempt to get him to relax. It didn't work. What was he so angry about?

"Why don't you go make some friends somewhere else?" Dean said to Jaden.

"Dean," she said, furrowing her eyebrows at him.

"Can't you let your girlfriend speak for herself?" Jaden said, raising his eyebrows in slight amusement. "We were having nice conversations before you-"

"I'm only going to say this one more time," Dean said, his voice low. "Walk. Away."

"Dean," she said again, putting her hand on his arm and squeezing it. He ignored her.

"It's alright, Alice," Jaden said with a smile. "You don't have to act like you have a say in your relationship."

Without a beat, Dean punched Jaden in the jaw. "Dean!" Alice shouted. Dean ignored her as he shoved Jaden against the fridge. A few people who were standing around outside heard the commotion and ran into the house. Christine, Kevin, Bobby, and Jody were among them. Christine grabbed Alice's bicep and pulled her away from Dean as Bobby grabbed Dean and pulled him off of Jaden.

A lump grew in Alice's throat as she turned to look at Christine. "I want to leave," she whispered to her. Without question, Christine nodded and put her arm around Alice's waist, and the two of them pushed through the crowd of people and towards the front door.

"Alice, are you okay?" Christine said as they walked towards the car.

"I just want to leave," Alice said again. Christine nodded and hopped in the passenger side while Alice got behind the wheel. As she started the car, her phone started vibrating in her bra. She pulled it out and saw it was Dean, so she hung up and tossed it in the backseat. "Can we go to your house?" she asked.

"Yeah," Christine said. "Yeah, of course."

Most of the drive was quiet with the exception of Alice's phone vibrating continuously on the backseat. Alice could feel tears pooling in her eyes, but she refused to break. "Alice," Christine said. "Can you tell me what happened?" Alice scoffed as a single tear rolled down her cheek.

"He can be so frustrating!" she said. "I was just talking to this guy, and Dean came over and lost it. He's so possessive! I don't understand why he's like that!"

"Did he hit you?" she asked.

"No," she replied quickly. "He would never."

"Then why are we going to my house?" she asked.

"I just don't want to see him," she said. "And I know that he'll come to my house to talk to me." Christine nodded, and the rest of the ride was spent in silence.

-

When Bobby pulled Dean off Jaden, Jody grabbed Jaden and took him into another room. Dean's chest was heaving, and his jaw was still clenched. "What the hell is the matter with you?" Bobby said, giving Dean's shoulders a shake.

That was the thing with Bobby. Dean may've been his boss, but he did help raise the kid, so he was allowed to put him in his place like that.

That didn't mean Dean liked it.

"Get the hell off me!" he shouted, pushing Bobby's chest. He looked past the man, and his shoulders dropped. "Where'd Alice go?"

"Where the hell do you think?" he snapped. "She left, ya idjit."

"And no one stopped her?" he said.

"She's a grown woman, Dean!" Bobby said. "She can do what she wants. It's about time you wake up and realize that before she leaves your ass."

Dean let out a frustrated breath and pushed past Bobby, then ran out to the front of the house. Alice's car was already gone. He called her phone, praying she would pick up. It only rang a few times before she sent him to voicemail. "Dammit!" he shouted. He figured she wouldn't pick up, but he still tried again. And again. And again. When she didn't pick up the final time, he let out a frustrated shout and threw the phone across the yard. He sat on the ground and put his elbows on his knees, hanging his head in frustration.

Fine. If she wasn't going to pick up the phone, he had a car. He'd go right to the source.

He got in his car and drove off to Alice's apartment. It took him about half the time considering how fast he was driving. He wanted to beat her there, and when he arrived, he didn't see her Jeep, so he knew he had. He figured he'd wait in the parking lot for her.

After thirty minutes, he knew she wasn't coming. His next best guess was that she was at Christine's house, but he had no idea where that was. He had plenty of connections that could get him the address -Donna and Jody had legal access to databases, and Charlie could hack them- but he knew none of them would get the information without probable cause, no matter how hard he pushed it. Damn his soldiers for having consciences, and damn himself for not being more of a hardass. Sometimes he wished he was more like Crowley.

Sometimes.

Dean rested his head on his steering wheel and sighed. Alright. How was he going to make this one better? Maybe he needed to give her time and space, like she had given him when he was mad about Lisa. She couldn't be mad at him forever, right?

-

Alice stared at herself in Christine's bathroom mirror as she brushed her hair. Her eyes were blank, and she wasn't really seeing her own reflection. Her hands moved on their own accord as she thought about what happened at the party.

"You don't have to act like you have a say in your relationship."

The anger in Dean's eyes when he punched Jaden had legitimately scared her. She knew Dean could be violent. Hell, practically his entire job revolved around murdering people. She was just sick of him hurting people in her name. How long until he lost control and hurt her too?

The knock at the bathroom door made Alice jump. "You okay in there?" Christine asked. Alice cleared her throat and put the hairbrush down, then opened the door causing Christine to step back.

"I'm fine," Alice told her with a tight smile. "Just tired."

"Do you want to talk-"

"I want to go to bed," she said firmly. Christine pressed her lips into a line and nodded.

"Okay," she whispered.

The girls shared Christine's queen bed, just as they had during every sleepover when they were kids, and Alice pulled the covers over her shoulders. "Goodnight, Alice," Christine whispered.

"Night, Chris," Alice mumbled back.

She turned on her side, facing away from Christine, and allowed some silent tears to fall as she drifted off to sleep.

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

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[seancekitsch]

Richie Tozier x Reader: 27 Years Later... Revamped!

You heard it here folks! I’ve updated my big Richie x Reader post to be more inclusive! The reader is now gender neutral instead of female, and I’ve mixed elements from the book and the new movie IT chapter 2! warning, i am a book purist so there are some plot elements from the book that do not occur in the movie! Enjoy!

-Growing up, you had always been Stan’s. You’d be each other’s go-to people, sometimes even closer than Richie and Eddie. He had been your perfect Boy Scout crush growing up, and after the first encounter with IT, he decided he couldn’t dance around his feelings any longer and asked you out.

-You always felt like the loser on the “outside”, you were at all group hang outs and meetings but you didn’t really hang out with anyone but Stan besides the occasional sleepover with Bev, but after Stan’s bar mitzvah that changed. Richie was the only loser to attend (besides you) and that meant a great deal to you. Despite how Stan used to get annoyed at Richie’s jokes, you always made sure to go out of your way to include him and befriend him after that day.

-Even though the losers drifted during high school, you remained Stan’s partner and Richie’s best friend besides Eddie. You had a lot more in common with Richie than you had originally thought because both of you essentially had to raise yourselves. Stan found a new found respect for the fellow loser over this connection you had.

-Stan was your first everything, from kisses to heartbreak. Yes, heartbreak. You broke up the summer before college. You were going out to California for school on an honours program and he was going to a university in Georgia with his twin sister. It was practical but it didn’t mean it didn’t sting either of you. You had promised to remain on good terms, however.

-Despite him moving on in Georgia, you never really did. He after college quickly married a woman named Patricia and settled in Atlanta. You met back up with Richie after graduation, and moved into a townhouse with him in Beverly Hills. Despite dating around, you never had much luck, probably thanks to your loud tall housemate.

-You and Richie actually flew out to Stan’s wedding, and while your first love was gone, there were no ill feelings from either of you. You shared a dance with him at the reception and told him how much you approved of his new wife. It meant a lot to him.

-After the wedding, you start to drift from Stan. Soon you don’t hear from each other at all. Richie was the only loser left for you.

-As much as he hated to say it, Richie saw this as his opportunity. You see, he had cared about you since the bar mitzvah. He knew there was someone he loved, but he couldn’t remember who. He guessed because he remembered you so vividly and nothing else, it had to be you. He was respectful of Stan and you, so he had never said anything and kept his distance. With Stan married, and Richie as your roommate (and secretly ruining most of your dates, whether he meant to or not) you were free, and he could hope you’d somehow feel the same.

-You and Richie live it up in Beverly Hills, networking and working side by side; going to celebrity parties and drinking with the big wigs.

-You’ve been tipsy and kissed at these parties, always to fend off unwanted company. It became the perfect cover and a casual display of affection for your closest friend. Despite it being a defence, you once kissed in a taxi after leaving one of these parties. It was a deep and long kiss, and there was no audience for it to be necessary, but it was never spoke of again.

-You became a writer on a semi popular TV series and Richie became a stand up comedian. While you hadn’t gone to school for writing, Richie had encouraged you to go for the job. You had always been good at writing, even minoring in it during college. He helped you prepare and edit scripts. He would even act out scenes in his famous impressions.

-Things were going so well, until one day Mike Hanlon calls. At first, you don’t even remember him until he calls you your old childhood nickname. You have to go back to Derry. IT is back.

-The plane ride is long, and both you and Richie decide to knock a few back in the airport bar and sleep it off on the flight. When you wake up at landing, your head is in the hollow of where his neck and shoulder meet and his arm is around you. Your hands are interlaced. Sure, the two of you had shared beds on road trips and when you’d travel for job auditions, but you had never really snuggled like this. You’re both blushing messes when you get to baggage claim.

-When you finally get back in town, you head straight to the Chinese restaurant in town in the car Richie rents. You recognise everyone immediately, embracing each of them with warmth and love... except for Stan who is nowhere to be seen. Mike assures you that he had contacted him.

-Despite his absence, you all enjoy dinner. You notice Bev and Bill still carry torches for one another after all these years. Ben looks amazing and seems very successful. Mike is even wiser than he was when you were all young. Eddie is still just as hyper and fun to talk to.

-After the meal, you all head off from the restaurant to talk strategy. On the walk out of the building, Bev pulls you back to walk and talk with her. It’s as if nothing has changed and you’re having a sleepover again. She specifically asks if you and Richie are a couple. When you deny this, she laughs and says that’s insane because of how you seem so in love with one another.

-You’d never say it, but you had imagined a life with Richie before. You can’t really be roommates with someone you have such a bond with without thinking of these things. But late at night when you can’t sleep you think about how nice it would be to have his arms around you, pressed into his lean and warm chest. There have been times when he’s brought people back, and he has a type in the people he brings home. A lot of them either share your name, or Eddie’s. You realize this isn’t a coincidence that you’d hear him calling out these names. Tozier sounded like a nice title to gain. It would be fun to see his last name, even hyphenated, on yours in any of your writing credits. But you’re snapped out of your thoughts the second Bev gets through on the line she’s trying to reach Stan at.

-Patricia was on the line; she said Stan had slit his wrists in the bathtub just an hour earlier. IT had been written on the wall in his blood. This makes your blood run cold. You can’t even react for a good five minutes even though everyone is watching you very carefully.

-The day you had all made that blood pact, Stan had made an off handed joke about slitting your wrists instead of just your hands. It had made you uncomfortable then, but scares the shit out of you now.

-When you finally do react, it’s like your whole world crumbles. You think you might be screaming, you know you’re definitely crying. You don’t even realize you’ve fled past all of the other losers cars until Richie’s arms are around you and he’s pressing you close to him on the curb.

-He let’s you scream it out, let’s you dig your nails into his skin until he bleeds, let’s you soak his nice dress shirt with tears and spit. Anything to comfort you and be close to you. This is the most thankful you’ve ever been for Richard Tozier.

-When you’ve stopped crying, there’s a newfound hate in your heart. You’re going to kill IT and it’s never going to hurt anyone ever again. You vow to avenge Stanley Uris. The group can’t disagree, even though half of them want to run. You all vow that before tomorrow is over, the clown will die.

-Richie and Eddie tell you how much they want to leave, and they try to get you to leave as well. But between your need for vengeance and Bill and Mike’s ranting about a strategy to kill IT, they don’t end up leaving town. That night, you can’t sleep. You aren’t sure how, maybe it’s a trick of IT’s illusions, but somehow you end up in Richie’s bed. It’s restless and you’re both terrified, but you cling together in solidarity and something stronger than lifelong friendship. But by the time he wakes you’re gone already, looking for your token to burn.

-You find it in the clubhouse, hidden behind one of the wooden boards nailed to the floor. It’s the little paper program from Stan’s bar mitzvah. An important day that quite literally changed your whole life.

-Upon returning to the townhouse, you find It nearly empty, with Eddie patching up a hole in his face. He’s mumbling something about the library while he’s finishing sanitizing his wound, so that’s where the two of you head when he’s done.

-Richie is shaken after killing Bowers, and now it’s your turn to comfort him. He shakes as you slip your arm around his, guiding him as he walks. Your other hand squeezes his bicep every few minutes to remind him to breathe. You’re here, and you’ve got him. It helps.

-Returning to Neibolt fills you with all of the memories you’d struggled to remember the day before. All of the fear and isolation of your childhood filled you so completely that you thought you could be sick. But you enter anyway, nausea and all.

-seeing IT take the form of Stan’s body is what does it for you though. You’re doubled over vomiting and crying, your hands sting against the broken glass and splinters on the floor. You’re only half aware of the chaos going around you until Richie kicks what you can only describe as a spider with Stan’s head and razor sharp teeth away from you. And then everything is so horrifyingly clear. This is only the beginning; it will get worse. When the head spider attacks Richie, you try to pull it off of him, but you aren’t strong enough. It’s up to Eddie, but Eddie is frozen.

-Down in the sewers is even worse. The fight takes a larger toll on all of you than expected. Eddie finally abandons all of the fear he cling to his entire life and charged head first into the fight, only to be stabbed through the torso and not get back up. You’re bloodied by one of IT’s claws, your wrist probably broken and one of your legs is in agony, so much so that you have to fight to stand while dodging the giant spider monster in it’s true form. All of you are injured in some way but team work weakens the creature.

-ripping out IT’s heart and destroying it should have been the end of all of the horror, and at first you think it is. You’re all relieved, until you notice Eddie hasn’t gotten up. Eddie and Richie had always had a special bond. You knew this better than anyone. He was the first one to Eddie’s side and held him as he tried to get him to respond.

-Eddie Kaspbrak is dead, and you can feel Richie’s heart breaking beside you. You hold his hand as he goes, and the rest of the losers hold each other. Richie presses a long kiss to his face, finally allowing tears to fall for the first time in the lifetime you’ve known him. It hurts even more knowing you can’t carry his body out of this place.

-As you leave the sewers, something changes. It’s as if the curse on you all has finally been lifted. You know you all have to go back to real life and finally live without fear, but fear is all any of you have ever known. The water of the quarry is healing to all of you, in the physical case of soothing aching muscles, and spiritually. It’s a rebirth.

-Richie cries again in the water, and you all come together to hold him. Under the water you feel a hand grasp yours, and you don’t even have to open your eyes to know that it’s Richies hand.

-Much to yours, and i think everyone’s surprise, Bev leaves with Ben. You could have sworn you heard her going at it with Bill the other night. Bill stays in town another week to recover before leaving and starting to work on his next novel. Mike resumes his life without the burden of watching Derry for ITs return, even more wise than he ever had been. You and Richie were another story.

-The second he saw you bleed in the sewer, he had gone berserk. Nothing else had mattered in that moment but destroying the thing that hurt you and Eddie. He knew after that he couldn’t ignore his feelings any longer. If his past love was gone, he had to pursue his future.

-He is uncharacteristically quiet on the way to the airport, and without speaking you know why. You’re all each other has now.

-He parks, gets out, walks around and opens the car door for you. Before you can reach for your suitcase, he reaches for you. The kiss is sobering yet intoxicating all at the same time. His hands rake through your hair and your arms rise up and wrap around his neck. The only reason to stop is the lack of oxygen that leaves you both dizzy. For once in your life, neither of you need to talk to be heard.

-The flight home feels weightless. You’re joking and lighthearted and giddy. If you weren’t as clear minded you could have sworn there was music in the air.

-When you arrive home, you decide to convert one of your bedrooms into a guest room. Stan’s letter to you both is framed in the living room. For once, you fall asleep peacefully. You fall asleep next to your best friend, your soulmate.

——————

Request anything you’d like to see! My ask box is open!

[siriuslyblack12]

chapter 7

“For the last time, I am not going as Dorothy for Halloween!” Sirius exclaimed.

 “Well it’s either me or you, and mum’s already made my tin man costume. It’s sick, by the way.” James pleaded.

 Remus put his face in his hands and groaned. The marauders were famous for their group costumes, but they’d been arguing about their plans the whole day. “I told you Wizard of Oz was a bad idea, why can’t we do Scooby-Doo like Peter said?”

 “Because Remus, Mary said that Lily said that Scooby-Doo isn’t cool. We have to be cool.” James said, as if he was offended that the other boy didn’t already know. It was truly pathetic, how much he sacrificed for a girl who supposedly didn’t even like him back. “Plus two of us would have to dress as girls, so unless you want to spend the night in an orange turtleneck and a wig, we’re doing Wizard of Oz.”

 Gregg’s perhaps wasn’t the best place to discuss their Halloween plans, as firstly, they were surrounded by people they weren’t inviting to their party and secondly, Peter’s mouth was full of pastry. Sirius took one of the many rolls the boy had laying in front of him and took a bite for himself, arms around Remus’s shoulders. “Who’s to say that he wouldn’t be Daphne?”

 “’m not being Daphne, or Velma for that matter. I thought we agreed that I’d be Shaggy.”

 “More like shag me!” Sirius laughed far too loudly considering they were in a public place. “You’re Daphne, I’m Velma, Peter’s Shaggy and James is Fred. We could even get Lils to be Scooby, if it’s cool enough for her.”

 “It’s definitely not.” James said, “I don’t even know why you’re so opposed to Dorothy, I reckon you could pull it off.”

 “You’re talking to a taken man here Prongs, but I appreciate the sentiment.”

 Remus rolled his eyes but sunk further into Sirius’s arms, relishing in the heat. They’d been together for a little over a month, and it had been the best month of life. Dates, dinners, just spending time together still made his stomach flip. “Well it’s good that I agree with James then, isn’t it?”

 Peter finally spoke, the pastries gone from his mouth, “Maybe we should vote on it.”

 There was a general hum of agreement on the table, and Peter continued, “All in favour of Scooby-Doo?” Sirius raised his hand, glaring at Remus, obviously trying to get him to do the same. “All in favour of Wizard of Oz?” Everybody except Sirius raised their hand, in fact he defiantly pressed his down into the table.

 “Then it’s settled, we get to see Padfoot in heels!” James said excitedly.

 “You should be so lucky.”

 Remus sighed, jumping in before there was a full out brotherly brawl between the two boys, “Where are we even going? I thought Marlene said she couldn’t host this year.”

 “That’s true,” Sirius began. “Which is why we’re going to Mary’s. Who knew that Mary fucking MacDonald was a party animal? The girl who got like, 5 A’s in her exams last year.”

 “I can’t tell if that’s an insult or not.” Peter said cautiously. He and Mary had also been steadily dating since September, spending even more time together than before. It was quite rare to see the two apart.

 Sirius laughed, “Well considering our Moony’s grades were even better than that, I’d say it’s not.”

 “How the fuck is everyone so smart?” James groaned.

 Remus chuckled along with everyone, mostly because he didn’t want to confront it. He himself had no idea how he’d managed to get the grades he’d gotten, but he wasn’t exactly complaining. His mum had bought him a cake and everything.

 Peter cleared his throat, standing unceremoniously. “Well, my mum probably wants me back home soon. I’ll see you at Mary’s.”

 They watched as he gathered his things and left with a final wave and smile, followed by James doing the same, “C’mon Pads, mum said we could have the TV today. Finally!”

 It didn’t go unnoticed to Remus how Sirius’s face lit up in glee at the mention of Mrs Potter. The smile spread over his face all the way up to his eyes, dimples settling in his cheeks. He was so happy. He wished it could always be like that. “You go ahead… me and Re might stay  for a bit.”

 Remus’s eyebrows shot up, “Will we now?”

 “Only if you want.”

 He scoffed at the thought that he’d turn down spending time with his boyfriend, yet was secretly delighted that Sirius cared enough to ask the question. James waved them off with a knowing smirk as Remus’s hand was grabbed and dragged out of the bakery. Excitable puppy.

  It was only half an hour later as the two sat atop a hill onlooking the business of the town, their hands threaded between them and the other clutching some cheap brand of chocolate. The crisp Autumn air surrounded them, enclosing them in the comfort and peace of the gradually lowering sun. Remus went to look over at Sirius, only to find him looking right back at him. He smiled.

 “You always look at me like that,” Remus started with adoration. “Like I’m worth something, or like I’m precious. I don’t know.”

 “You are precious, Moons. For some reason you refuse to admit it, I’m just saying what everybody’s thinking.” Sirius said smugly. It was almost matter-of-factly, like he was so sure and confident in what he was saying.

 Remus rolled his eyes, biting back the biggest grin in favour of leaning towards the boy for a sweet kiss. It was brief, but still made his head spin as he broke away drearily, “Baby.”

 “Baby?” Sirius laughed. He took a strand of Remus’s hair between his two fingers and twirled it absentmindedly. “I like it.”

 “You think it’s stupid.”

 “I don’t!” He only laughed harder, tackling his boyfriend to the ground despite his loud protests. They fell into each other arms as they rolled over in the grass, smiling wide and chuckling to themselves. “I like it. I really do.”

 Remus smiled, still disbelieving but feeling sarcastic enough to comment, “Whatever you say, baby.”

 “Fuck, I love it!” Sirius groaned and met his lips in a longer kiss. He licked into his mouth through the smile on his face, hands cupping around the back of his neck. Remus sighed softly as the boy in front of him moved down to his neck ever so softly; leading him to blink up at the sky. Content and love were the only two thoughts running through his mind.

 I can’t love him already, can I? Isn’t it too soon?

 “Sirius-, you do know we’re, shit, we’re in public.” His thoughts were incoherent with the feather-light brush of lips just below his jaw.

 Sirius pulled away slowly with one last peck to Remus’s lips, pausing for a moment to drink in his features. He bit his lip in a manner that could only be considered seductive. “I apologise, your majesty.” That earned him a punch to the shoulder. “We could go back to your house, if you want. Would your mum mind?”

 Remus considered it, before deciding, “It’s probably best if we stay here, unless you want to answer about a million questions about everything she can think of.”

 “I really don’t mind-“

 “I know that,” He cut him off, drawing his eyes back to the view in front of him. Truth be told, he thought the real view was Sirius. “I just don’t think I could handle it. When I’m out to her, maybe. Or whenever she’s not in.”

 Sirius nodded to show he understood and followed Remus’s gaze. “What about James’s house then? Sometimes I think mum loves us more than she loves James.”

 “To be fair, can you really blame her?”

 He shoved Remus’s chest and barked that beautiful laugh that was so often heard falling from his lips. “I’m telling Prongs you said that!”

 “I’d like to see you try.” Remus teased lightly, thus ensuing another tackle to the ground. He hid his face in the collar of Sirius’s jacket to stifle his laugh. He couldn’t believe how lucky he was to have found someone he could be so open with, someone that would listen happily to every one of his minor inconveniences or whims. Suddenly, his thoughts drowning out reality, the atmosphere around them became a lot sadder, more gentile. “You call Mrs Potter mum.”

 “Well noticed.”

 Remus put a hand to his heart in mock offence, “I was just wondering what is was about, that’s all. It’s not exactly like the time you called McGonagall mum by accident, is it?”

 Sirius whined in protest at the mention of that infamous incident, protesting that the boys promised to never mention it again. The exact details were largely unknown, but it was held above his head to torment him playfully nonetheless. “I’ve been staying with them since… well you know, I guess it’s just become a habit. At least she’s better than my actual mother.” He laughed bitterly.

 Remus’s lips thinned out as he asked cautiously, “Have you spoken to Regulus since we saw him?” After saying it he realised how it could have come off. “Not that… Never mind, I shouldn’t have asked.”

 “No, no, it’s okay. It’s…” Sirius trailed off, hands clutching at Remus’s waist as if trying to steady himself. “Short answer, no I haven’t.”

 Remus made a sympathetic noise, “Do you want to speak to him?”

 I’m over-stepping. I shouldn’t have brought it up.

 “Of course I do, to be honest I just don’t know how. He’s so far away, you know? And he’s still in that fucking house and I just-“ Sirius sighed in frustration and hung his head, a small smile still determined to stay put on his lips.

 Bringing the dark-haired boy to his chest, Remus tried his best to reassure him. “There’s no pressure to do anything, Pads. Find him whenever you’re ready, whether that’s tomorrow or in a month.”

 “I know.” Sirius said quietly. “It’s just… a lot. What would I even say?”

 “Whatever you need to, baby.”

  ~~

  Sirius wasn’t exactly sure what he’d been expecting when he’d asked Regulus to come meet him in the park near the Black house. Memories of his childhood flashed through his mind, being in that park, playing with his little brother without a care in the world. He wondered when everything had started to get so messed up, and if it could ever be like it was. For now he would just have to take Remus’s advice and talk to him. Say whatever he needed to.

 “Do you remember that game we used to play? The castle one? We’d stay here all day waiting for the climbing frame to be free and then pretend it was our castle, like we were in charge.” A familiar voice said coming up beside him.

 “Reg-”

 “No, no, let me.” Regulus insisted, taking in a deep breath to steady his nerves. “I hope your happy.”

 Sirius spoke slightly louder than his brother, temper rising at the surprising change in tone, “What?”

 “You finally got what you wanted, didn’t you? You’ve never liked it there, even when we were kids and everything was fine, you still weren’t happy. Well congratulations, you won. You fucking won and now you never have to go back. Some of us aren’t that lucky.” The last words were almost spat, ended with a bite of bitterness. His face was drained of colour, jaw set defiantly.

 “Nothing was ever ‘fine’ about that house and you know it. How the hell was I supposed to stay?” Sirius replied through gritted teeth.

 “You’re asking someone who did have to stay, you do know that right?”

 Sirius looked at his brother face on for the first time in weeks, examining it closely and seeing the nerve that had been struck paint itself visibly. His heart filled with sympathy, but his head still maintained his anger. He couldn’t understand the position Regulus was in. He could never understand the position Regulus was in.

 “I always knew you were selfish.” Regulus turned away from the close eyes.

 Sirius stepped forward, fingers pointing into his brother’s chest to emphasise his point, “You can’t call me fucking selfish for caring about myself, okay! I’m sorry, I am so, so sorry, for leaving you there, Reg. I’m trying to make it better, I really am, but if you’re going to stand there and call me selfish and tell me I shouldn’t have done it then you can leave. Right now.”

 Regulus was quiet for a few moments before turning back and muttering a short “Sorry.”

 The two fell away from each other in a silent truce, eyes flicking over the park in front of them. So many memories, all of which dear to each of their hearts. “How can I help you?”

 “I don’t know if you can.” Regulus replied honestly, fighting back the welling of tears. “It’s not as simple as just leaving, Sirius.” He didn’t even realise that that was the first time he’d said that name in weeks.

 Sirius pulled down the cuffs of his jacket, “There’s always room for you at the Potter’s.”

 “Not bloody likely.”

 “Is that why the first thing James asked me when I went there is if you were with me?”

 Regulus huffed, running a hand through his hair in a similar manner to Sirius’s own nervous gesture. It was a known fact that he didn’t really like his brother’s friends, which only made him more suspicious of James Potter’s sudden interest in his well-being. “Mother will be wondering why I’m not home already, I best go.”

 “’m not stopping you.” Sirius fished his phone out of his pocket and clicked it on, seeing a few unopened messages from Marlene and Remus when an idea came to his mind. “Text me if you need anything, whenever you feel like it. I don’t think dear Mother could manage to police who you’re talking to.”

 After a hum of agreement from Regulus, he continued, “You could come to Mary’s Halloween party as well, I remember how much you used to love dressing up.”

 “I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”

 “Just think about it.” Sirius pleaded, hands pressed together. “I’ll text you the details.”

 Before he knew what he was doing, he pulled his brother into what was at first a casual hug, which then turned into a tight embrace. The tears that had been building in Regulus’s eyes spilled slowly as he held onto Sirius tighter than he’d ever held anyone, hooking his chin over his shoulder. Maybe he would go to this Halloween party, if it meant getting away from his Mother and closer to the only member of his family he truly cared for.

  ~~

  October 31st was a night that for many meant dressing up, eating sweets and having youthful fun. For others it was more about the parties, drinking and drugs and all things that would be regretted in the morning. For the marauders however, most popular people in the school, resident trouble-makers, why couldn’t they have both?

 “Oi Pete, stop eating all the snacks! The rest of us want to eat too.” Remus could hear James shout over the noise of the music blasting through the house.

 “Leave the man be, Prongs. If he wants to stuff his face on mini-sandwiches who are we to stop him?” Sirius reasoned, taking one between his fingers and holding it up to Remus’s mouth. The boy sighed, rolling his eyes, but took the food that was offered to him nonetheless.

 He’s cheesy. Good to know.

 James took his attention away from Peter and towards the affection couple, smiling brightly, “Aw, you guys are too cute.” They groaned at that, before he muttered, “Me and Evans could have that, but she has to go around calling me ‘arrogant’, ‘self-centred’ and ‘the biggest prick she’s ever seen’. What’s she even on about?”

 “I stand behind that!” Lily said from somewhere in the living room.

 It was quite hard for Remus to take the scene in front of him seriously, considering everyone had dressed as beloved characters. Sirius had gone as far as to tie his hair up in two pigtails, red ribbons in tow, and wear one of Marlene’s blue dresses (with shorts underneath it, he’d assured everyone). He looked good. Remus had never thought he’d think that about someone in a Dorothy costume. For a moment he forgot that he could now do something about it, but before long he was stepping forward and taking the boy in his arms.

 Sirius let out a surprised laugh, “Hi.”

 “Hey.”

 “You want another mini-sandwich? You should probably have some now before they’re gone.”

 “I’m good.”

 The two stayed like that for a few moments, basking in each other’s arms peacefully. They had already been such good friends that this felt natural and comfortable. It was sweet, a little excessive, but after pining for so long it was almost necessary to be close as often as possible. Making up for lost time. Remus noticed Sirius glance at the door worriedly, and so asked “Waiting for someone?”

 Sirius’s tongue darted out to wet his lips, “You could say that, yeah.”

 Remus gave him a concerned look, shifting so that his arms fell loosely around they boy’s waist, “Who? I thought everyone was already here.”

 Looking into the tawny-haired boy’s eyes, he thought for a moment. He’d invited Regulus without telling anyone, not even Mary, and it wasn’t exactly as if he was friends with anyone there. “Don’t worry about it, they’re probably not coming anyway.”

 “Hey, hey,” Remus said as Sirius went to turn away from his embrace. Putting together the pieces in his mind, it was all much clearer than it had been, “It’s not Regulus, is it?”

 “It doesn’t matter,” The boy dismissed. “Let’s just have a good time.”

 With a final caring look at each other, Sirius trying his best to reassure the other, the two moved into the party and separated reluctantly to spend their time equally between most of the people there. Remus found Lily and Dorcas, talking excitedly about some book or other over the fireplace and found himself joining them in conversation. He couldn’t help but notice Dorcas’s strange costume: a furry blue jacket and eyes painted onto a hat.

 “I thought you and Marlene were doing a couple’s costume,” He prompted gently. “No offence or anything, but what the hell is this supposed to be?”

 She smiled, “I’m the cookie monster, obviously. Marlene is Elmo.”

 “Because they’re such a famous couple.” Lily said amusedly, arms folded across her chest.

 “Of course.”

  Sirius had found the other half of the strange couple, along with James, and the three were discussing the latest football match. He himself didn’t care much for the sport, favouring swimming far more, but watching his friends animatedly replay it was entertaining on it’s own.

 “Did you see that penalty though!” Marlene exclaimed. “Sirius, what did you think?”

 Startled and confused, he simply replied with the first thing that came to his mind after listening to their discussions, “It was ludicrous, yeah.”

 “You’ve said that about everything, mate.” James laughed.

 “Fuck.”

 As they continued to talk and gossip, Sirius found his eyes flicking over the room to find Remus, deep in his own conversation. He was hit with a wave of emotion, of love, as he watched the way his hands moved as he made his point and the curls of his hair bounced as his head nodded to something Lily had said. This only grew as Remus met his eyes and sent him the most dazzling grin, causing Sirius to swoon slightly.

 Peter was off somewhere else in the house, most likely damaging things and making Mary run after him; James was talking everyone’s ear of; Regulus couldn’t even show up to the party in the first place but the only boy that mattered to Sirius in that moment was the one he was looking at. The boy he was in love with. And suddenly, just looking at him, the rest of the world fell away and it was just the two of them. Just for a moment, it could be like that.

[bluesfortheredj]

“Your tassels are knotted, stay still a second,” you say as Ben gives you a twirl in his Roger Taylor costume for this morning.

“Feels like my stomach is as well,” he comments quietly as you begin to carefully undo the knots in his waistcoat.

“Everything okay?” you ask, flicking your eyes up to meet his gaze.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s fine,” he very obviously lies with a heavy sigh.

“Well, I know I’m only you’re stylist but feel free to vent if you ever need to,” you smile.

“Hey, no, you’re more than that! I like to think we’re friends after you hearing about my awful dating life, and me hearing about your dick of an ex who should not have dumped you at all; but one man’s loss is another man’s gain, right?” Ben rambles.

“Probably shouldn’t keep going on about that should I?” you grimace.

“You have every right to, he was an absolute arse and if I ever saw him he’d get a punch on the nose, that’s for sure.”

“Bless you, you’re far too kind Ben.”

“Come here, let me give you a hug, you deserve one,” he smiles as he holds his arms out towards you.

It doesn’t take you long to move into his waiting arms and yours wrap around his shoulders when you’re close enough, then you feel his hands rest on your lower back as you both ease into one another hesitantly. As you stood there feeling a little awkward, you could tell he needed this hug just as much as you did, and you purposely gave him a small squeeze before you both pulled away.

“I mean it, Ben, if you ever need to talk, I’m here.”

“Thanks, that means a lot (Y/N). I’d better get to set anyway, I’ll see you later,” he nods before disappearing out of the door.

You move towards where he’d just been and look out as he walks towards the set, shielding your eyes from the sun with your hand up by your forehead, and you notice how his shoulders were practically up by his ears with how tense he was but he purposely drops them and gives them a roll before entering the stage. You’d seen actors get stressed before and it was never fun to deal with them like that, but Ben seemed to internalise things more which definitely wasn’t the best way to deal with such pressure.

“Everything go alright?” you ask when he comes back a few hours later.

“Yeah, all good,” he replies quietly.

He quickly changes into his normal clothes then heads out with a ‘bye’ so quiet that you would have missed it if you hadn’t been near the door anyway. Again you watch him walk away, this time looking down and tapping harshly on his phone as his large duffel bag sits uncomfortably on his hip after being slung hastily onto his shoulder. You desperately wanted to call out to him and tell him to offload all of his worries onto you, but your mouth wouldn’t let you articulate the words, and you ended up standing there feeling useless.

“Morning,” Ben mumbles the next day as he walks in with sunglasses hiding his eyes.

“Ooh, heavy one last night?” you tease.

“Hmm,” he replies.

You leave it at that and when you see him later on not much has changed apart from the fact that his mood has worsened by about 60%. No attempt at making conversation works, and you end up adjusting his outfit in complete silence as he stands there with his foot tapping impatiently against the floor.

“You’re all done,” you say quietly, and he heads straight for the door, slamming it shut behind him.

You walk over to the small window to see him halted in his tracks after closing your door with such force, and he steps back as if to come and apologise for such an action, but shakes his head and carries on walking instead. The pressure was obviously getting to him more than he thought, but he knew if he went back to see you that you’d question what was wrong and get him to spill everything, which at the moment might make him a little emotional; something he definitely didn’t want you to see.

“Hi,” he says sheepishly when he returns for his next costume change, “I just wanted to-”

“Ben, sit down.”

He does what you say without a word, then you carefully remove his wig and place your fingers either side of his head by his temples, then start to rub small but firm circles into his skin. You watch in the mirror as his eyes close and his mouth opens a little as he relaxes into your touch, and you move your fingers back after a couple of minutes to continue the massage. Eventually you get to the back of his head and cup the base of his skull so that your circles go down onto his neck, and at this he lets out a groan at the feel of some of his worries melting away because of your touch.

“Ben, we need you on set,” a runner says as he yanks the door open to see you with your hands in his hair, “I’ll give you a minute...” the guy says with a bit of a shocked expression.

“I’m so sorry,” you say as you take your hands away from Ben’s hair, “that was really… I shouldn’t have done that, I’m sorry.”

“No, (Y/N), it’s-”

“You’d better go,” you mutter, unable to even look at him from the sheer embarrassment of it all.

Ben picks up his wig and leaves, and you sink into the seat he was just in as you cover your face with your hands in shame. That must have looked so bad from that runner’s point of view, he must think there’s something going on when there definitely isn’t, and you shouldn’t have even thought about doing such a thing in the first place. You lean forward to cross your arms on the table then rest your forehead on them as you begin to wish that the ground would just swallow you up now, and you let out a long sigh.

You spend the rest of the evening sorting the outfits for tomorrow and secretly hoping you’d be able to phone in sick the next day to be honest, as the thought of seeing Ben again just made you cringe, but eventually you hear a quiet tapping at the door and you genuinely wonder if you could get away with hiding behind the rail of garments you were sorting instead of answering it.

“(Y/N)?” Ben asks as he enters anyway.

“Yep,” you reply from behind the rail.

“Thank god, thought you’d gone home already.”

“Nope.”

“Listen, I just wanted to say thank you for earlier, I really appreciated the very kind gesture of that massage, and it was certainly needed,” he says as he moves towards your hiding place.

“You’re welcome,” you reply as you duck down and pretend to pick something up when he gets too close.

“Can you… Umm, can you come here a second please?”

“Sure,” you mumble as your face turns into a grimace that he can’t see.

“Go and sit down in that chair for me please.”

You walk over to the chair, hoping that a hole would appear in the floor that you could jump into and escape the embarrassment, and you plop yourself down in the chair as you try and keep a smile on your face.

“Close your eyes,” Ben says quietly, and you screw them shut in the hopes that this is all a bad dream.

His fingers move into your hair just like yours had in his, then he spreads them out and gives a good amount of pressure to your scalp as he begins to return the favour and massage your head as you had done for him. No words are spoken as he moves around your head and dips down to your neck, relieving tension you didn’t even realise was there to begin with, and you sink into his touch as your whole body relaxes in the chair. You weren’t sure if he’d done this before or not, but my god his fingers were skilled at what he was doing, and in all honesty you didn’t want this feeling to end.

“Is that better?” he asks when he eventually stops and starts to brush his fingers through your hair to neaten it up.

“Yeah,” you sigh happily, “thank you. You really didn’t have to.”

“I know, but you deserve it,” he says before kissing the top of your head, “I do expect one of those every day now though...”

“Ha! You’ll be lucky,” you chuckle.

Gwilym or Ben? Love them both equally, so you can choose :) She's his stylist or make-up artist on set and notices he's getting more stressed and tense each day because of the filming pressure, and she just reacts instinctively by giving him a little scalp massage? And he really enjoys it, but then someone bursts in and she realises how inappropriate it looks and is embarrassed. But he comes back later to thank her and maybe return the favour?

@peachllobotomy @lv7867 @aynsleywalker @captainxholmes @pink-lemo @painthatiusedto @n3shama @itisjustmethistime @mamaskillerqueen

[cherrie-skies]

Powerpuff Girls

8th member of monsta x au, 10th member of exo au, 8th member of ikon au | yun x minji x yoona | 906 words

🍃 | Request: All of the girls interacting with each other. Maybe since 3/4 of them are girls in male groups, they could all be made into one team (Kinda like how they had the "foreign team" that one year) but they could be like the "girl power team" or something?

🌪 | when i read girl power team i thought powerpuff girls (don’t ask why) so that’s the team name. i also don’t remember the foreign team mentioned, but i think i got the idea and just made them a team for archery. i hope it’s okay!

anything written in italics are the commentators

“Next up in Women’s Archery is Red Velvet vs Powerpuff Girls.”

“That’s an unusual name for a team.”

“Powerpuff Girls isn’t a girl group, it’s made up of Monsta X’s Yun, iKON’s Yoona, and Exo’s Minji.”

“Yoona and Yun wanted to participate, but couldn’t because they’re the only female member in their groups.”

“Leeteuk-ssi, Minji is your junior right?”

“Yes.”

“What do you think? Do you think she’ll do good in archery?”

“Minji isn’t the best at sports, but she does have amazing aim. I think archery may be the one sport she’s good at.”

Everyone watched as Yun went first for her team. None of the girls were experienced in archery and haven’t competed at ISAC before, so no one was sure what to expect. Monsta X and iKON didn’t have very high hopes for their members knowing how their training went. Most of their shots either landed in the one and two point sections or missed the target completely.

Yun took a deep breath and closed her eye, praying to get at least eight points. She let the arrow go and watched it fly though the air, piercing the board. The arrow landed on nine points and she turned around, eyes wide. Yoona and Minji hugged her cheering and asked if that really happened.

Yun managed to nine points two more times getting a total of 27 points to start her team off. Wendy had gotten a seven, nine, and eight, leaving Red Velvet with a total of 24. 

Monsta X stared in shock at Yun’s final score. They wondered if she had secretly practiced more or if she just simply pretended to be bad. Minhyuk suggested having Yun give them a few pointers, but Shownu said if it were allowed she should just join the team next year.

Next up was Yoona. Everyone laughed as she put on iKON’s infamous yellow wig that they had been wearing all throughout ISAC. Yoona didn’t want to wear the wig, but the members told her she had to and that it held the power to make her do better. They also threw in the reminder that they wanted to make people laugh instead of winning.

Yoona brought the bow and arrow up, taking a deep breath. During practice, she was fifty-fifty on low points and high points. She hoped this time she would only get high points, not wanting to disappoint her team. She knew they wouldn’t be mad if she did happen to get a low score, but she didn’t want to be overwhelmed with guilt.

Irene had scored a total of 18 points and Yoona was hoping to get at least 19. She had gotten 16 points so far and hoped she didn’t do what Yunhyeong did and get zero on her last try. She took a deep breath and let the arrow go. She turned around not wanted to see the result. She heard everyone look in amazement and the stadium erupted in cheers. Yun and Minji pulled her into a hug screaming. She turned around to see that she hit the camera lens and she jumped up and down with her team, shocked at what she did.

The boys of iKON ran off the bleachers and onto the event floor, not caring if they weren’t allowed to be there at the moment. They wrapped her in a group hug and tried to lift her up to toss her, but they ended up just all falling onto the ground out of excitement. They got up realizing they were delaying the game and embarrassingly went back to their seat. 

Last up was Minji. She nervously grabbed her first arrow knowing whether her team won or lost would be on her. If she did poorly, Red Velvet would take the win and as much as she loved her label mates, she didn’t want to disappoint and perhaps be able to say she was good at something.

During practice, Minji was the ace of the three. However, Yun and Yoona had proved their skill and Minji wondered if after this she could still be considered the ace. 

Seulgi had scored nine points and the butterflies in Minji’s stomach worsened. She wondered if her members felt this nervous a few years ago when they competed or if Chanyeol did when he bowled. 

Minji let the arrow go, but much to her dismay the arrow landed far from the center getting only four points; the lowest anyone on her team got so far. She groaned and shook her head trying to get into the zone.

Seulgi scored seven and the nerves Minji was feeling worsened making her feel sick. She prayed to get something higher than her last turn. She brought the bow up and took a deep breath. She was about to release the arrow when she heard someone chanting her name. She brought the bow down confused, but realized it was Monbebe’s and iKONICS cheering for her. She smile widely, touched at the scene.

Minji refocused and took her second shot. A sigh of relief escaped her mouth seeing she got nine points. She hoped she could do that at least once more. 

On the last round and Seulgi got eight. Minji released the arrow and when it landed on ten, Yun and Yoona ran up to her and hugged her. The game ended with a ten point difference, declaring Powerpuff Girls the winner. 

masterlist linked in bio

[creativebeast18]

Robstar Week day 2: Cosplay

Don’t Hide It

The only reason I put “Robstar Week” on the tittle, is so that people know that’s my entry. But it’s nice having a word that must be the center theme of the story, else, I would’ve never thought of writing this.

I’m sorry I’m taking so long. I have a few proyects going on and I must supervise all of them. You know how in every group of friends, there’s the “Mom” friend, because they’re the responsible ones? Well, I’m the mom, and I have to help my children not to fuck up

Enjoy!

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Summary: Starfire doesn’t think she is the right person to cosplay. Who else can make her change her mind but the boy wonder himself?

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Starfire stared at her reflection with a frown. This was the third time she changed clothes and hair style, and still not one outfit had convinced her. She took off her black wig and let her hair down from it’s updo. She placed the fake hair contraption on her bed, along with all of her failed attempts.

“Let’s see: Not The Wasp, not Hinata, and definitely not Sailor Mars...Ugh!!!” Kori plopped down into her bed and closed her eyes. There was nothing she could do at this time. She tried to think of a plan that could save her from not going. She could pretend to be sick...but that would make some of her friends worry and take care of her, and Robin and her would also miss the convention. What about saying that she had to go to a special and urgent mission that The Batman had encomended her and her only? No, Robin would immediately contact him, explaining that this was the Titans day off, and that was something NO-ONE messed with (after Tokyo, Robin took vacations seriously).

Starfire sat up and begun to gather all the costumes to hide them under her bed. What was she thinking when she said yes to cosplay?! She had never done this before, she only could do so much with the time that she had been given, and, most troublesome of all, she had ORANGE SKIN. No amount of makeup in the world would cover it up to look like the characters she liked from comics, books or anime. She would never be able to cosplay without looking ridiculous. But her thoughts were interrupted when there was a knock on her door.

“Star? Can I come in for a sec?”. It was her three month boyfriend, Richard Grayson. She remembered when he talked to her about the Con of the Comic. How marvelled he had seemed at the hundreds of entertainments and how his eyes had glimmered when he spoke about the cosplay. His exact words lingered on her head: “I’ve always wanted to do it, but it felt dumb to do it alone”. Well, she being his girlfriend, and not wanting to disappoint him, what other thing could she do but say yes?

“Y-yes, of course, boyfriend Robin.” She threw the garments on her hands to one corner of the room in an attempt to ignore them and not worry her lover. Richard came into the room and closed the door. He turned around and noticed the worried grin on her favourite alien’s face, almost like a fake smile, as if she was trying to hide something. He placed a quick peck on her left cheek, making her blush slightly. He took a step back and extended his arms, grabbing her wrists gently.

“Why the long face, Kori? Something I can help you with?”. Koriand’r looked to one side, then the other, avoiding his gaze. Finally, she closed her eyes and directed her head to the floor. Robin used one hand and placed it on her chin, lifting up her eyes so that they met his. She slowly moved her lips, barely making a whisper. Dick tried to close the space between them, so that he and only he could hear whatever she had to say. “Sorry, what did you say?”. Yet it didn’t work, as Starfire turned around and hugged herself. Richard, oblivious to what was happening, pleaded. “Please, don’t hide what’s wrong. I want to help”

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry for how I look, and for not knowing so much of the shows as you, and for promising something that is simply impossible for me, and for disappointing you and...!”. She was cut of by a passionate kiss on her lips. Robin had placed his hands on her waist and gone for it. Star was so surprised, she didn’t close her eyes at first, but relaxed into it when the tears couldn’t let her see anymore. The small drops fell through her cheeks and into her mouth, allowing both to taste the saltiness. One of his hands trailed its way up to her face, cupping it and stroking the back of her ear with his fingertips. After a couple of minutes, Dick pulled apart their lips, but kept their faces close, making their foreheads touch to stay connected.

“There’s absolutely nothing to be sorry about. There’s nothing wrong with the way you look, the way you are, ever. Because you are the most amazing person I have aver and could’ve ever encountered in my life, okay?” Kori didn’t say anything, only nodded. “Okay, so in summary, and from what I gathered, you can’t find a costume, right?”. Richard stepped back and looked around. A couple of clothes were laying messily in the corner of the room, and a wig had hooked itself on the edge of an open drawer.

“No, you would be correct on that. My skin is too orange, while all of the characters have a paler complexion. Also, there are not many redheads that I like and can do the cosplay of them, at least, not without being too revealing”. Both of them blushed at the thought of her revealing too much. “Not for others eyes but mine” , Robin thought, although he knew it would be a long time until that moment came. “I cannot help but think that I will look ridiculous, no matter what costume I wear”.

“Star, that’s exactly what cosplay is about” Kori looked confused. “Sorry, let me explain. Cosplay is about feeling like the character you are portraying, and taking pictures with the people that admire them just as much as you do. It’s about getting into those clothes and feeling invincible, and everyone appreciating all the details put into the hole ensemble. Yeah, you can look amazing, but sometimes you can look ridiculous, especially if you are an amateur like us. But all the people on the convention don’t care, because they know they are dorky too. That’s the best about the convention, we can all be dorks together! And look ridiculous together!”. Richard took a step back and flung his arms in the air, making Starfire giggle a little. He then realized he was getting carried away, and took a deep breath. “Look, what I’m trying to say is that, yeah, we will probably look ridiculous, but we´ll do it together! And the people at Comic-con can’t judge us because there was a time in which they looked ridiculous too. It takes a lot of bravery to cosplay, and that someone shows up dressed up like a character is already something to applaud, even if they look weird and have a lot of things from the character missing. So, don’t ever think you could look ridiculous, okay?”

Kori blushed and rose a hand to her cheek, delighted by the words that her soul mate had spoken. It was one of the reasons they were both attracted to the other: they always knew the right words to say when the other was in distress. She smiled cutesely and closed her eyes, radiating happiness all over the bedroom. Dick secretly loved that smile from her, and she knew it. He stretched his arms out and grabbed both her hands. “So, do you still wanna cosplay? Or do you want us to go in our civilian clothes?"

Star softly smiled and asked "What would you suggest, Robin?". She looked at the stash of discarded clothes, still very unsure of them, as she kept thinking she hadn’t found the right one. The thoughts of not going crawled to her mind again, and Richard probably felt it too, as he replied.

"It makes no difference to me. I think you always look gorgeous. But if I had to choose, there’s someone that you can go as without having to put a second hand wig, and you are just as, if not more of a badass than her”. He went into her closet and got out a simple pale yellow t-shirt. He turned on his steps and headed through the door. “Be right back, I gotta go get something for you”.

——————————————————-

As the pair holded hands, they headed into the building, and both marveled on the wonders inside. Starfire could not believe such creations could come into live so realistically. Robin stared at his girlfriend up and down: A dark green dress, a pale yellow shirt and a blue bracelet, combined with her red mane, made the perfect Kushina Uzumaki.

“Oh, Richard, such a display of joyful people was not something I could have ever thinked of. You spoke incredible things about the Con of the Comic, but this is simply...spectacular!! And you had the best idea too!” She eyed him carefully, analyzing his ensemble: the white robe with the painted red flames, navy blue shirt and pants, a simple green vest, and a blue headband with a metal rectangle, engraved with a leaf, attached to it. “I must admit, you make a great Minato, although we didn’t manage to find the wig”.

“Nor the right vest either, but it really doesn’t matter, I’m glad that we came here like this. See that everyone likes it?”. Dick nudged his head to the side, signaling a couple of fans that were pointing at them in awe and taking pictures from afar.

“You were absolutely right. I did not know there was a thing such as a couples costume. It is the best idea”. She also hadn’t told him, but Minato Namikaze was one of her favourite characters from Naruto. Plus, having the day with Richard, dressed as one of her favourite characters, without him covering his cerulean eyes for her to explore? Starfire was having a blast, and she had all day to enjoy. What did it matter if their costumes were not the best? Or if they looked a bit ridiculous compared to others? She was having the time of her life, taking pictures with fans and others that were doing cosplay of her favourite characters. It didn’t matter that her skin was orange, or that her eyes were green and Kushina’s were blue. Fans appreciated courage, and creativity. But above all, they loved self expression, especially because events like this were designed to express themselves. Being on this embracing community, how could she ever have thought that she would embarrass Robin? So she embraced her weirdness just like she had before, and never hid her insecurities from him, or anyone, ever again.

[oberynmartell]

costumes // written for jonxsansafanfiction’s All Hallow’s Week Celebration

The Stark family had always had a great interest in all things Halloween. From the time Sansa was a child she could remember her mother and father excitingly draping the house in fake cobwebs and plastic ghosts. Catelyn always took great pleasure in baking some great pumpkin treat- her favourite was pumpkin bread and cinnamon butter- and her father loved to eat them. They had even taken to planning some elaborate family costumes, from the members of the Scooby Gang to the Addam’s Family. It was a time of year they all loved.

And luckily for them, even as the Stark kids grew up their love for Halloween did not fade.

In the living room Arya Stark was circling Sansa and Jon, scrutinizing their potential costume before deciding if it was good enough to be worn in attendance to Loras Tyrell’s annual Hallow’s Eve party, a massive, raging blowout.

“I still think you should have been Han and Leia.” said Arya, frowning. “The theme for the party is famous movie couples isn’t it? Who else is more famous?”

“Because I’m sure everyone and their mother is going to show up dressed as Han and Leia. I want to try and make an impression.” Sansa said. “And after what happened last year I want it to be a good impression.”

They both remembered Loras’ anger after they had arrived at the Halloween party the previous year dressed as Clark Kent and Lois Lane, only to find out that they were supposed to be in keeping with the Victorian theme- as everyone else had been. It had been printed clearly on the invitation, as Loras’ party planner (and cousin) Luthor had angrily told them, commenting that they stuck out sorely; brightly dressed in the sea of pastel Victorian gowns and silk cravats

Arya laughed. “I forgot about that. What were you two again?”

“Superman and Lois Lane.” she responded.

At the kitchen table Gendry nodded, his voice muffled by the crunch of the cereal he was eating. “‘S’ not bad. Fits you two well.”

“That’s what I said.” said Sansa. “But according to Loras we were ‘so basic that we should have been marketed as a plain white undershirt.’”

“So...” Gendry began, getting up from the kitchen table and walking toward them. “This...is what you chose?”

“What?” said Sansa, looking down at herself. “We’re Marty and Doc from Back to the Future...Can’t you tell?”

“You look good.” said Gendry quickly. “But they’re not exactly a couple.”

“Well they’re a couple, like a couple of people. One, two, people.” said she. She frowned. “Maybe we should change. After last year I’m not taking the chance of misinterpreting the invite.”

Half an hour later Sansa had assembled two more costumes and had dressed them both, leaving them standing back where they had started, standing above a giant rubber spider and wavering under Arya’s scrutiny. “This is worse.” she said finally, after staring for a long moment. “Worse in every way.”

“Well I had to find a way to repurpose the wig.” Sansa snapped.

“Wayne’s World is a little old, innit?” Gendry asked. “You don’t want to spend the whole night having to explain your costume, do you?”

Sansa huffed.

The rest of the afternoon was spent rummaging through trunks and wardrobes, throwing together costumes. Jon was impressed with his girlfriend’s creativity. He would never had thought that wearing a nightgown and a pair of green trousers and a green shirt would make them Wendy and Peter Pan. And then, after that idea was vetoed, that the same nightgown dressed up with a pair of sandals and a baseball cap would make her Jenny and him Forrest Gump.

“I’m ready to quit.” said Sansa, lying on her back in their bed. The room looked as though it had been ransacked, clothes piled high on the chairs and the bed, spilling out of the closet in unorganized piles. “We should just stay home tonight.”

“Hush.” said Jon. He pushed aside a stack of old coats she had tried to repurpose into a wolf costume and lay beside her, feeling her exhale a long sigh and curl into his arms, her bare feet pressed against his shins, the smell of her sweet shampoo filling his nose.

“You’ve been talking about this party for a month.” he said calmly. Sansa called it his ‘dad voice.’ She said it was the voice her father always used when he was trying to calm Arya down before her fencing matches, or keep Sansa from worrying about her studies. “You always have fun and no matter what you wear you will look beautiful. Maybe we’re overthinking it.” He knew she certainly was, but he dare not say that to her now, lest all his dad-voice-induced-calmness be undone.

She paused for a moment. He could tell she was thinking, able to feel the rapid brush of her eyelashes against his bare forearm as she blinked. “You’re right. We probably are. Maybe we should just go basic.”

“How basic?”

“We could reuse our Superman and Lois Lane costumes from last year?”

Jon chuckled. “And risk the wrath of Loras and Renly again. Perhaps not.”

“The Jack and Wendy Torrence costumes?” she put forward. “I don’t think Arya and Gendry are going to use them.”

Jon considered it for a moment before something caught his eye. All of a sudden it became easy to put together a costume, getting up from the bed and digging through the wardrobe before smiling. “I’ve got one” he said triumphantly, pointing toward one of the piles he had set down at the foot of the bed. “Simple, pretty, creative.”

“Really?” she asked, propping herself up on her elbow to look at him. She quirked an eyebrow, looking intrigued.

“Really.” Jon winked.

It took them under an hour to ready themselves and drive over to the massive Tyrell manse. From the moment they pulled passed the front gate Jon could see the hints of the party that was taking place within. A hundred faux gravestones had been lifted in the yard, complete with skeletal hands and faces and feet that stuck through the dirt like bodies crawling out of coffins. Ghosts hung from the branches of the trees, moving eerily in the wind like true specters.

Music thundered through the air, loud and ruckus in the otherwise quite night. Lights of green and purple and red shone through the chalky windows and flashed over them, and as they walked forward a waiter dressed as a zombie handed them each tall flutes of a bubbling green liquid.

“Wow.” Sansa marveled.

“It looks even better than last year.” admired Jon. “And I didn’t think that was possible.”

“It’s certainly easier to dress for.” said Sansa. The previous year the mansion had been decorated impeccably, so thoroughly embellished for the Victorian theme that once they had been ushered inside Sansa had barely recognized it as the same house. “Although...” she trailed off.

“There you are!” said Loras, appearing out of the throng of guests already filling the dance floor. Sansa recognized him instantly as Indiana Jones, complete with whip, fedora, and a surprisingly realistic golden monkey. “I was about to organize a search party.” Luthor looked them over reproachfully, no longer hiding his dislike of the costumes once Loras’ asked them to “Give us a spin, I want to see the full picture!”

Sansa did a small, embarrassed spin at his beckoning, worried he would not like what they had chosen. She tipped her head back and downed the drink in her hand. It caused her cheeks to itch and her nose to burn but the sour alcohol quickly did the trick and she was somewhat less able to feel Luthor’s eyes on her back.

“Mia Wallace and Vincent Vega!” said Garlan Tyrell, having appeared from the bar dressed as Hamlet- with Leonetten as Ophelia on his arm. “I love it.”

“You guys look great.” Loras grinned. Jon secretly breathed a sigh of relief at having gained the host’s stamp of approval. “Then again you always do. I swear you’re the best looking couple in this room tonight. Well, besides Renly and I.”

Sansa giggled, slipping her hand into Jon’s. Beside the Tyrell brothers Luthor gave a smirk, commenting that he also liked the costume before pointedly adding that it was: “Very in keeping with the theme.”

Awkwardness rippled between the group before Jon cleared his throat. “Well we wouldn’t want a repeat of last year’s lost invitation situation.” he said, attempting a joke to lighten the tension, comedically loosening the buckle of his bolo tie.

“Ren is going to be so pleased to see you.” Loras said. He waved his glass of Róse at another entering couple in place of a wave and promised to catch up with them later in the night before bidding them farewell, commenting over his shoulder that “the job of a host is never done!”

They made a few rounds of the party, greeting friends and neighbors and gorging themselves quite a bit on the Halloween themed fare. Jon even ate so many Dr. Frank-N-Furter hot dogs that he thought he might be sick. After a while they settled down and Jon took her hand. “Mrs. Mia Wallace, would you care to dance?”

“Vincent Vega offering to dance?” she said, giving a gasp of mock shock as he led her into the crowd of twisting bodies and grasping fingers. “It must be a special occasion.”

“Of course it is.” he grinned. “It’s my girlfriends favorite holiday. Maybe, if we try hard enough, we could win the Jack Rabbit Slim’s Annual Twist Contest.”

She hummed happily, swaying in his arms. She was drunk on the music and the drink and the atmosphere, but the most intoxicating of it all was his touch. “We’ll have to try very, very hand to win that competition.”

Jon smiled and kissed her, his lips tasting of the sweet cinnamon syrup that had filled his mulled wind. “With you. I’m up for the challenge.”

read more jonsa fics?

[readbookywooks]

PART I "THE SPARK"

1. I clasp the flask between my hands even though the warmth from the tea has long since leached into the frozen air. My muscles are clenched tight against the cold. If a pack of wild dogs were to appear at this moment, the odds of scaling a tree before they attacked are not in my favor. I should get up, move around, and work the stiffness from my limbs. But instead I sit, as motionless as the rock beneath me, while the dawn begins to lighten the woods. I can't fight the sun. I can only watch helplessly as it drags me into a day that I've been dreading for months. By noon they will all be at my new house in the Victor's Village. The reporters, the camera crews, even Effie Trinket, my old escort, will have made their way to District 12 from the Capitol. I wonder if Effie will still be wearing that silly pink wig, or if she'll be sporting some other unnatural color especially for the Victory Tour. There will be others waiting, too. A staff to cater to my every need on the long train trip. A prep team to beautify me for public appearances. My stylist and friend, Cinna, who designed the gorgeous outfits that first made the audience take notice of me in the Hunger Games. If it were up to me, I would try to forget the Hunger Games entirely. Never speak of them. Pretend they were nothing but a bad dream. But the Victory Tour makes that impossible. Strategically placed almost midway between the annual Games, it is the Capitol's way of keeping the horror fresh and immediate. Not only are we in the districts forced to remember the iron grip of the Capitol's power each year, we are forced to celebrate it. And this year, I am one of the stars of the show. I will have to travel from district to district, to stand before the cheering crowds who secretly loathe me, to look down into the faces of the families whose children I have killed... The sun persists in rising, so I make myself stand. All my joints complain and my left leg has been asleep for so long that it takes several minutes of pacing to bring the feeling back into it. I've been in the woods three hours, but as I've made no real attempt at hunting, I have nothing to show for it. It doesn't matter for my mother and little sister, Prim, anymore. They can afford to buy butcher meat in town, although none of us likes it any better than fresh game. But my best friend, Gale Hawthorne, and his family will be depending on today's haul and I can't let them down. I start the hour-and-a-half trek it will take to cover our snare line. Back when we were in school, we had time in the afternoons to check the line and hunt and gather and still get back to trade in town. But now that Gale has gone to work in the coal mines - and I have nothing to do all day - I've taken over the job. By this time Gale will have clocked in at the mines, taken the stomach-churning elevator ride into the depths of the earth, and be pounding away at a coal seam. I know what it's like down there. Every year in school, as part of our training, my class had to tour the mines. When I was little, it was just unpleasant. The claustrophobic tunnels, foul air, suffocating darkness on all sides. But after my father and several other miners were killed in an explosion, I could barely force myself onto the elevator. The annual trip became an enormous source of anxiety. Twice I made myself so sick in anticipation of it that my mother kept me home because she thought I had contracted the flu. I think of Gale, who is only really alive in the woods, with its fresh air and sunlight and clean, flowing water. I don't know how he stands it. Well ... yes, I do. He stands it because it's the way to feed his mother and two younger brothers and sister. And here I am with buckets of money, far more than enough to feed both our families now, and he won't take a single coin. It's even hard for him to let me bring in meat, although he'd surely have kept my mother and Prim supplied if I'd been killed in the Games. I tell him he's doing me a favor, that it drives me nuts to sit around all day. Even so, I never drop off the game while he's at home. Which is easy since he works twelve hours a day. The only time I really get to see Gale now is on Sundays, when we meet up in the woods to hunt together. It's still the best day of the week, but it's not like it used to be before, when we could tell each other anything. The Games have spoiled even that. I keep hoping that as time passes we'll regain the ease between us, but part of me knows it's futile. There's no going back. I get a good haul from the traps - eight rabbits, two squirrels, and a beaver that swam into a wire contraption Gale designed himself. He's something of a whiz with snares, rigging them to bent saplings so they pull the kill out of the reach of predators, balancing logs on delicate stick triggers, weaving inescapable baskets to capture fish. As I go along, carefully resetting each snare, I know I can never quite replicate his eye for balance, his instinct for where the prey will cross the path. It's more than experience. It's a natural gift. Like the way I can shoot at an animal in almost complete darkness and still take it down with one arrow. By the time I make it back to the fence that surrounds District 12, the sun is well up. As always, I listen a moment, but there's no telltale hum of electrical current running through the chain link. There hardly ever is, even though the thing is supposed to be charged full-time. I wriggle through the opening at the bottom of the fence and come up in the Meadow, just a stone's throw from my home. My old home. We still get to keep it since officially it's the designated dwelling of my mother and sister. If I should drop dead right now, they would have to return to it. But at present, they're both happily installed in the new house in the Victor's Village, and I'm the only one who uses the squat little place where I was raised. To me, it's my real home. I go there now to switch my clothes. Exchange my father's old leather jacket for a fine wool coat that always seems too tight in the shoulders. Leave my soft, worn hunting boots for a pair of expensive machine-made shoes that my mother thinks are more appropriate for someone of my status. I've already stowed my bow and arrows in a hollow log in the woods. Although time is ticking away, I allow myself a few minutes to sit in the kitchen. It has an abandoned quality with no fire on the hearth, no cloth on the table. I mourn my old life here. We barely scraped by, but I knew where I fit in, I knew what my place was in the tightly interwoven fabric that was our life. I wish I could go back to it because, in retrospect, it seems so secure compared with now, when I am so rich and so famous and so hated by the authorities in the Capitol. A wailing at the back door demands my attention. I open it to find Buttercup, Prim's scruffy old tomcat. He dislikes the new house almost as much as I do and always leaves it when my sister's at school. We've never been particularly fond of each other, but now we have this new bond. I let him in, feed him a chunk of beaver fat, and even rub him between the ears for a bit. "You're hideous, you know that, right?" I ask him. Buttercup nudges my hand for more petting, but we have to go. "Come on, you." I scoop him up with one hand, grab my game bag with the other, and haul them both out onto the street. The cat springs free and disappears under a bush. The shoes pinch my toes as I crunch along the cinder street. Cutting down alleys and through backyards gets me to Gale's house in minutes. His mother, Hazelle, sees me through the window, where she's bent over the kitchen sink. She dries her hands on her apron and disappears to meet me at the door. I like Hazelle. Respect her. The explosion that killed my father took out her husband as well, leaving her with three boys and a baby due any day. Less than a week after she gave birth, she was out hunting the streets for work. The mines weren't an option, what with a baby to look after, but she managed to get laundry from some of the merchants in town. At fourteen, Gale, the eldest of the kids, became the main supporter of the family. He was already signed up for tesserae, which entitled them to a meager supply of grain and oil in exchange for his entering his name extra times in the drawing to become a tribute. On top of that, even back then, he was a skilled trapper. But it wasn't enough to keep a family of five without Hazelle working her fingers to the bone on that washboard. In winter her hands got so red and cracked, they bled at the slightest provocation. Still would if it wasn't for a salve my mother concocted. But they are determined, Hazelle and Gale, that the other boys, twelve-year-old Rory and ten-year-old Vick, and the baby, four-year-old Posy, will never have to sign up for tesserae. Hazelle smiles when she sees the game. She takes the beaver by the tail, feeling its weight. "He's going to make a nice stew." Unlike Gale, she has no problem with our hunting arrangement. "Good pelt, too," I answer. It's comforting here with Hazelle. Weighing the merits of the game, just as we always have. She pours me a mug of herb tea, which I wrap my chilled fingers around gratefully. "You know, when I get back from the tour, I was thinking I might take Rory out with me sometimes. After school. Teach him to shoot." Hazelle nods. "That'd be good. Gale means to, but he's only got his Sundays, and I think he likes saving those for you." I can't stop the redness that floods my cheeks. It's stupid, of course. Hardly anybody knows me better than Hazelle. Knows the bond I share with Gale. I'm sure plenty of people assumed that we'd eventually get married even if I never gave it any thought. But that was before the Games. Before my fellow tribute, Peeta Mellark, announced he was madly in love with me. Our romance became a key strategy for our survival in the arena. Only it wasn't just a strategy for Peeta. I'm not sure what it was for me. But I know now it was nothing but painful for Gale. My chest tightens as I think about how, on the Victory Tour, Peeta and I will have to present ourselves as lovers again. I gulp my tea even though it's too hot and push back from the table. "I better get going. Make myself presentable for the cameras." Hazelle hugs me. "Enjoy the food." "Absolutely," I say. My next stop is the Hob, where I've traditionally done the bulk of my trading. Years ago it was a warehouse to store coal, but when it fell into disuse, it became a meeting place for illegal trades and then blossomed into a full-time black market. If it attracts a somewhat criminal element, then I belong here, I guess. Hunting in the woods surrounding District 12 violates at least a dozen laws and is punishable by death. Although they never mention it, I owe the people who frequent the Hob. Gale told me that Greasy Sae, the old woman who serves up soup, started a collection to sponsor Peeta and me during the Games. It was supposed to be just a Hob thing, but a lot of other people heard about it and chipped in. I don't know exactly how much it was, and the price of any gift in the arena was exorbitant. But for all I know, it made the difference between my life and death. It's still odd to drag open the front door with an empty game bag, with nothing to trade, and instead feel the heavy pocket of coins against my hip. I try to hit as many stalls as possible, spreading out my purchases of coffee, buns, eggs, yarn, and oil. As an afterthought, I buy three bottles of white liquor from a one-armed woman named Ripper, a victim of a mine accident who was smart enough to find a way to stay alive. The liquor isn't for my family. It's for Haymitch, who acted as mentor for Peeta and me in the Games. He's surly, violent, and drunk most of the time. But he did his job - more than his job - because for the first time in history, two tributes were allowed to win. So no matter who Haymitch is, I owe him, too. And that's for always. I'm getting the white liquor because a few weeks ago he ran out and there was none for sale and he had a withdrawal, shaking and screaming at terrifying things only he could see. He scared Prim to death and, frankly, it wasn't much fun for me to see him like that, either. Ever since then I've been sort of stockpiling the stuff just in case there's a shortage again. Cray, our Head Peacekeeper, frowns when he sees me with the bottles. He's an older man with a few strands of silver hair combed sideways above his bright red face. "That stuff's too strong for you, girl." He should know. Next to Haymitch, Cray drinks more than anyone I've ever met. "Aw, my mother uses it in medicines," I say indifferently. "Well, it'd kill just about anything," he says, and slaps down a coin for a bottle. When I reach Greasy Sae's stall, I boost myself up to sit on the counter and order some soup, which looks to be some kind of gourd and bean mixture. A Peacekeeper named Darius comes up and buys a bowl while I'm eating. As law enforcers go, he's one of my favorites. Never really throwing his weight around, usually good for a joke. He's probably in his twenties, but he doesn't seem much older than I do. Something about his smile, his red hair that sticks out every which way, gives him a boyish quality. "Aren't you supposed to be on a train?" he asks me. "They're collecting me at noon," I answer. "Shouldn't you look better?" he asks in a loud whisper. I can't help smiling at his teasing, in spite of my mood. "Maybe a ribbon in your hair or something?" He flicks my braid with his hand and I brush him away. "Don't worry. By the time they get through with me I'll be unrecognizable," I say. "Good," he says. "Let's show a little district pride for a change, Miss Everdeen. Hm?" He shakes his head at Greasy Sae in mock disapproval and walks off to join his friends. "I'll want that bowl back," Greasy Sae calls after him, but since she's laughing, she doesn't sound particularly stern. "Gale going to see you off?" she asks me. "No, he wasn't on the list," I say. "I saw him Sunday, though." "Think he'd have made the list. Him being your cousin and all," she says wryly. It's just one more part of the lie the Capitol has concocted. When Peeta and I made it into the final eight in the Hunger Games, they sent reporters to do personal stories about us. When they asked about my friends, everyone directed them to Gale. But it wouldn't do, what with the romance I was playing out in the arena, to have my best friend be Gale. He was too handsome, too male, and not the least bit willing to smile and play nice for the cameras. We do resemble each other, though, quite a bit. We have that Seam look. Dark straight hair, olive skin, gray eyes. So some genius made him my cousin. I didn't know about it until we were already home, on the platform at the train station, and my mother said, "Your cousins can hardly wait to see you!" Then I turned and saw Gale and Hazelle and all the kids waiting for me, so what could I do but go along? Greasy Sae knows we're not related, but even some of the people who have known us for years seem to have forgotten. "I just can't wait for the whole thing to be over," I whisper. "I know," says Greasy Sae. "But you've got to go through it to get to the end of it. Better not be late." A light snow starts to fall as I make my way to the Victor's Village. It's about a half-mile walk from the square in the center of town, but it seems like another world entirely. It's a separate community built around a beautiful green, dotted with flowering bushes. There are twelve houses, each large enough to hold ten of the one I was raised in. Nine stand empty, as they always have. The three in use belong to Haymitch, Peeta, and me. The houses inhabited by my family and Peeta give off a warm glow of life. Lit windows, smoke from the chimneys, bunches of brightly colored corn affixed to the front doors as decoration for the upcoming Harvest Festival. However, Haymitch's house, despite the care taken by the grounds-keeper, exudes an air of abandonment and neglect. I brace myself at his front door, knowing it will be foul, then push inside. My nose immediately wrinkles in disgust. Haymitch refuses to let anyone in to clean and does a poor job himself. Over the years the odors of liquor and vomit, boiled cabbage and burned meat, unwashed clothes and mouse droppings have intermingled into a stench that brings tears to my eyes. I wade through a litter of discarded wrappings, broken glass, and bones to where I know I will find Haymitch. He sits at the kitchen table, his arms sprawled across the wood, his face in a puddle of liquor, snoring his head off. I nudge his shoulder. "Get up!" I say loudly, because I've learned there's no subtle way to wake him. His snoring stops for a moment, questioningly, and then resumes. I push him harder. "Get up, Haymitch. It's tour day!" I force the window up, inhaling deep breaths of the clean air outside. My feet shift through the garbage on the floor, and I unearth a tin coffeepot and fill it at the sink. The stove isn't completely out and I manage to coax the few live coals into a flame. I pour some ground coffee into the pot, enough to make sure the resulting brew will be good and strong, and set it on the stove to boil. Haymitch is still dead to the world. Since nothing else has worked, I fill a basin with icy cold water, dump it on his head, and spring out of the way. A guttural animal sound comes from his throat. He jumps up, kicking his chair ten feet behind him and wielding a knife. I forgot he always sleeps with one clutched in his hand. I should have pried it from his fingers, but I've had a lot on my mind. Spewing profanity, he slashes the air a few moments before coming to his senses. He wipes his face on his shirtsleeve and turns to the windowsill where I perch, just in case I need to make a quick exit. "What are you doing?" he sputters. "You told me to wake you an hour before the cameras come," I say. "What?" he says. "Your idea," I insist. He seems to remember. "Why am I all wet?" "I couldn't shake you awake," I say. "Look, if you wanted to be babied, you should have asked Peeta." "Asked me what?" Just the sound of his voice twists my stomach into a knot of unpleasant emotions like guilt, sadness, and fear. And longing. I might as well admit there's some of that, too. Only it has too much competition to ever win out. I watch as Peeta crosses to the table, the sunlight from the window picking up the glint of fresh snow in his blond hair. He looks strong and healthy, so different from the sick, starving boy I knew in the arena, and you can barely even notice his limp now. He sets a loaf of fresh-baked bread on the table and holds out his hand to Haymitch. "Asked you to wake me without giving me pneumonia," says Haymitch, passing over his knife. He pulls off his filthy shirt, revealing an equally soiled undershirt, and rubs himself down with the dry part. Peeta smiles and douses Haymitch's knife in white liquor from a bottle on the floor. He wipes the blade clean on his shirttail and slices the bread. Peeta keeps all of us in fresh baked goods. I hunt. He bakes. Haymitch drinks. We have our own ways to stay busy, to keep thoughts of our time as contestants in the Hunger Games at bay. It's not until he's handed Haymitch the heel that he even looks at me for the first time. "Would you like a piece?" "No, I ate at the Hob," I say. "But thank you." My voice doesn't sound like my own, it's so formal. Just as it's been every time I've spoken to Peeta since the cameras finished filming our happy homecoming and we returned to our real lives. "You're welcome," he says back stiffly. Haymitch tosses his shirt somewhere into the mess. "Brrr. You two have got a lot of warming up to do before showtime." He's right, of course. The audience will be expecting the pair of lovebirds who won the Hunger Games. Not two people who can barely look each other in the eye. But all I say is, "Take a bath, Haymitch." Then I swing out the window, drop to the ground, and head across the green to my house. The snow has begun to stick and I leave a trail of footprints behind me. At the front door, I pause to knock the wet stuff from my shoes before I go in. My mother's been working day and night to make everything perfect for the cameras, so it's no time to be tracking up her shiny floors. I've barely stepped inside when she's there, holding my arm as if to stop me. "Don't worry, I'm taking them off here," I say, leaving my shoes on the mat. My mother gives an odd, breathy laugh and removes the game bag loaded with supplies from my shoulder. "It's just snow. Did you have a nice walk?" "Walk?" She knows I've been in the woods half the night. Then I see the man standing behind her in the kitchen doorway. One look at his tailored suit and surgically perfected features and I know he's from the Capitol. Something is wrong. "It was more like skating. It's really getting slippery out there." "Someone's here to see you," says my mother. Her face is too pale and I can hear the anxiety she's trying to hide. "I thought they weren't due until noon." I pretend not to notice her state. "Did Cinna come early to help me get ready?" "No, Katniss, it's - " my mother begins. "This way, please, Miss Everdeen," says the man. He gestures down the hallway. It's weird to be ushered around your own home, but I know better than to comment on it. As I go, I give my mother a reassuring smile over my shoulder. "Probably more instructions for the tour." They've been sending me all kinds of stuff about my itinerary and what protocol will be observed in each district. But as I walk toward the door of the study, a door I have never even seen closed until this moment, I can feel my mind begin to race. Who is here? What do they want? Why is my mother so pale? "Go right in," says the Capitol man, who has followed me down the hallway. I twist the polished brass knob and step inside. My nose registers the conflicting scents of roses and blood. A small, white-haired man who seems vaguely familiar is reading a book. He holds up a finger as if to say, "Give me a moment." Then he turns and my heart skips a beat. I'm staring into the snakelike eyes of President Snow.

[qu33n-of-pasta]

Caught in my web: chapter 5

           Authors note: Sorry for taking literally forever to update. Seniors years coming to a close for me, and prom planning has begun. I also just needed to step back and let my creative juices replenish. All those essays really drained me D: I can just reply to comments on A03, but fanfic.net is different, so I’ll just reply to reviews at the end of the chapters from now on.

The morning sunlight shone dimly through the blinds in Peter Parkers bedroom. Laying snuggly in the middle of Peter’s bed, was Sam Alexander. Peter had unknowingly fallen asleep beside his crush last night, luckily he was the first to wake up, and he did so with the grace of a water buffalo.

Somehow that night the two boys had ended up spooning, and when Peter had realized their positions, he quickly extricated the younger teen from his arms, much to his disdain.

           Although Peter had literally dreamed of waking up next to his crush like this, he really didn’t want to have to explain why he had an erection to his best friend.

Yeah he felt bad about it, but what young boy wouldn’t get aroused from having his crush sleeping soundly in his arms. At least, that’s what he told himself.

           Sam woke up about 30 minutes after Peter did. The younger boy stretched out with a yawn, trying his best to force his eyes open. Sam turned over to snuggle up with his pillow, but only managed to roll off the bed with a thud.

           He groaned as he slowly peeled himself off the floor. He stood up in a zombie like fashion, running his hand through his messy hair as he began to realize where he was.

           ‘Peter’s room?’ he thought to himself as he looked around the older boy’s bedroom.

On the walls, were various band posters, and a periodic table. The room wasn’t messy, but it wasn’t the most organized either. A cheeky grin spread across Sam’s face as he realized that this was his first time being alone in Peters room. This was the perfect time to snoop.

           Sam crept his way over to Peter’s desk, but stopped himself before he could open any drawers. Something about trifling through his best friend’s things made him feel guilty. He frowned, taking his hand off the drawer.

           He let out a grumpy sigh, ‘Stupid web head’ he thought as he stormed out of the bedroom.

Sam had a light scowl as he was walking down the stairs, wondering where the heck Peter was.

           He sighed. ‘Guess I’ll make us some breakfast,’ he thought as he groggily made his way down the stair case and through the living room.

Sam’s fuzzy socks were warm on the carpet, until he stepped onto the now wet linoleum of Peters kitchen floor.

           Looking down, he saw that his sock was now soaked in a thick yellow substance.

           Sam’s face recoiled in disgust at the yellow goop that he had just stepped in. On one leg, he hopped his way to one of dining room chairs.

With the whole kitchen in his view, he could piece together that what he had stepped in must have been egg yolk.

The kitchen was a mess. Mixing bowls were scattered around the counters, a frypan was webbed to the ceiling, and on the table, was what Sam assumed to be a charred ham.

” So this is what happens when Webs tries to make breakfast?” he chuckled.

With a grin, he began to clean up the mess that Peter had left behind.

Sporting only one sock, Sam was able to clean up the mess that Peter had made, he even managed to do some of the dishes from the day before; Peter wasn’t lying when he said he wasn’t good at doing household chores.

           After he had finished cleaning the kitchen, he hopped his way towards the stairs so that he could steal a sock from Peter.

Right as he had stepped foot on the stairs, the front door swung open, revealing a very disheveled looking Peter Parker. In the doorway, the older boy stood clutching onto two to-go bags from I-hop.

Peter’s eyes widened when he saw Sam, “I bought breakfast!” he blurted out as he held up the I-hop bags with a grin.

The two boys started laughing as they saw each other, “I’m gonna go borrow a sock, so you go ahead and set some plates for us okay?”

Peter let out a nervous laugh as he remembered the mess he had left in the kitchen, “Sounds good!”.

Peter waited until Sam was out of sight before he bolted towards to the kitchen, hoping that he could at least hide the mess he had made.

When he was in the kitchen, Peter stood in awe. The counters were spotless, and the floors had even been mopped. A blush tinged Peters face when he imagined his typically abrasive crush cleaning like a loving housewife.

With a goofy smile, he pulled out two plates and some cutlery for them to eat with. Carefully, he took the styrofoam to-go boxes out of their bags, and began transferring the pancakes to the plates.

Peter had everything neatly arranged, he even got out a couple of glasses for orange juice. Normally, he would have just scarfed the food down from inside their containers, but today he wanted to make a good impression on Sam.

With his hands to his hips, Peter let out a triumphant huff. ‘Things around the house sure are great when Sam is around’ he thought.

“Hey, Peter?” Asked the younger boy from the doorway.

Peter whipped around to face the other boy, “Yeah?”

“Wasn’t I supposed to be your maid?” Sam questioned as he sat at the table Peter had prepared. “Why didn’t you wake me up to cook breakfast?”

Peter smiled bashfully at the ground as he sat down in the chair across from Sam. “You looked really peaceful, so I thought I’d try to make some for you instead.”

Sam smiled, “You didn’t have to do that, webs” he said softly.

Peter looked up and made eye contact with the other boy, then grinned. “I know.”

Unsure of how to deal with the embarrassing tint spreading across his face, Sam shoveled the last remaining chunk of pancake into his mouth, syrup dribbling down his chin.

           “um gnna gt drssd” (I’m gonna get dressed) he mumbled before getting up and making a bee-line towards the bathroom.

Peter just stared with a puzzled look on his face, shrugged, then proceeded to eat the rest of his pancakes.

      After breakfast, Peter went to his room to play a video game while Sam took a shower.

He had made it to the final boss battle when Sam walked into the room.

“Hey, Peter, do you know where my backpack is?”

“Uhh, Yeah, I think I put it in my clo- “Peter started, his voice trailing off as his jaw dropped.

Standing there with only a towel draped around his waist, was Sam. Warm beads of water stuck to Sam’s tan skin like dew, and it took everything Peter had not to stare.

           Checking back into reality, Peter cleared his throat “I-it’s in my closet”

“Okay, thanks” Sam said, turning to the other boys closet to grab his bag, then smirking as he gave an extra amount of sway in his hips while exiting the room.

           As he was turned around, Peter took the chance to ogle at Sam’s figure. His eyes traversed the boy’s body all the way from his toned calves, to the way his towel caressed his firm behind, and to the small drops of water that pooled serenely in the curve of his spine.

           His stare was broken by the sound of his character dying in the game. He smiled goofily back at the television screen.

“Do I really have to wear this? It’s so itchy,” whined Ava, adjusting the short blonde wig that MJ had forced onto her head.

“Yep, now put on the glasses, and stop being so difficult!” Scolded Mary Jane, who was wearing a black turtle neck sweater with a long black wig.

“Why are we even doing this? We could be studying for the calculus test on Monday.”

Mary Jane pouted her lips and furrowed her brow. Does she really need a reason to spy on her adorkable best friends who happen the be in love with each other?

“Because, as much as I love them. Sam and Peter are both oblivious idiots who won’t tell each other their feeling unless we give them a little push.”

“I’m pretty sure you just want to be nosey, buuut so do I. So, are we just going to watch from a distance?”

“Pretty much.”

“Oh” Ava said, scratching her head nervously.

“Stop messing with the wig!”

Ava mumbled something unintelligible to Mary Jane as they both left early for the movie theatre. She was in for a long night.

Peter and Sam stepped out of their Uber when they reached the movie theatre. The movie had already been out for a while, so there weren’t many people in line.

           While they were on their way into the building, Peter had been trying to call MJ, but she wasn’t answering for some reason. He dialed her number again and waited patiently as it rang.

The crisp December air made Sam hug himself as he let out a muffled shiver against his hands; He would never get used to anything other than the warm Arizona weather he was so  fond of.

           Without warning, Peter pulled Sam into him with his free arm, his gaze turning away from him to hide the flush spreading across his nose bridge.

           Sam’s eyes widened in surprise, almost automatically, his head had found itself nuzzled into the crook of the older boy’s shoulder.

           Each passing second felt like an eternity, and the thumping in his chest was starting to freak him out.

           He wondered ‘Do I….no.” he can’t have these feeling. This friendship means too much to him. So he didn’t understand why he couldn’t break out of Peters hold?

In the background of his thoughts, he could hear Peter talking.

“What do you mean you’re sick? You were just fine yesterday?” The older boy asked in a concerned voice that was peppered with irritation.

Inside of the theatre MJ grinned cheekily at Ava, faked a coughing fit, then continued into the phone, “Sorry, Pete, I really can’t make it. But you and Sam shouldn’t let that stop you from seeing it!”

Peter looked over at Sam, who was deep in thought, and looking absolutely adorable against Peters chest. He smiled, “Yeah, you’re right. Get well soon, okay?”

MJ faked a cough and said her goodbye to Peter, then laughed manically inside her head as she pressed the red phone icon, ending her connection to Peter.

Ava couldn’t help but laugh at how ridiculous her friends were, but secretly, she was glad that Sam and Peter were getting closer.

Peter turned off his phone, then looked to Sam, who was now a deep shade of red. Peter’s stomach did a flip from seeing how cute Sam was. “Well you sure look comfortable.” he said, trying not to smirk.

Sam’s eye’s widened, then he pushed himself out of Peters arm, his blush unfading. He cleared his throat, “Yeah, well, let’s get inside” he said quickly, speed walking towards the door.

Peter felt a pang of guilt, he was kind of happy that MJ couldn’t come.

Peter had to speed walk to catch up to Sam who was waiting for him at the ticket stand. When he made it to the ticket stand he smiled at Sam then turned to the shaggy haired boy selling them.

“Can I have two tickets to Paranormal Activity 8?” The boy accepted Peters money, then counted his change. As he counted, Peter squinted his eyes; He’s seen this boy before.

“Hey, um, do you deliver pizza?”

Sam turned to give him a confused look, “Peter, this is a movie theatre.”

Peter’s ears took on a slightly red flush as he laughed, “No, that’s not what I meant. I mean, you delivered my pizza yesterday, remember?”

           The shaggy haired boy handed Peter his change and tickets, then blinked slowly. “Oh yeah, you’re the dude with the weird name. Uhhh, Pooter, right?”

           Peter’s face turned with a mix of confusion and annoyance “No, no, my name is Pet- “

“Come on, Pooter, we have to get snacks before the movie starts!” Sam exclaimed with a grin as he pulled Peter away while he was in the middle of correcting the shaggy haired boy.

There weren’t any other movie goers in line for snacks, and Peter was grateful that nobody could see the love struck look he got from Sam leading him by the hand.

           “Can we have a large popcorn, a bag of gummy bears, and two large cokes please?” Sam asked the snack attendant gleefully.

           “Sure thing, hon.” The woman replied, turning around to fetch their items.

           Peter smirked, then turned to mess with Sam. “You know, you sure are comfortable with older men buying you things. Sam, is there something you want to tell me?” he said teasingly.

           Sam rolled his eyes, then punched Peter in the arm, eliciting a laugh from the older boy.

           “Your total is thirty-two dollars exactly,” Said the lady at the snack counter, smiling. Peter filtered through his wallet for the momney, then handed it to her.

While they gathered their things, the lady spoke again. “If you boys don’t mind me asking, how long have you been dating?” she said with a bright smile.

Both of their eyes widened, and Sam’s vision went to the side, while Peter rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

“Um, we’re not dating,” Sam said bashfully. In his mind, Peter added ‘yet’ to what Sam said.

“Oh, well, pardon me. I just thought…Oh, I am so sorry!” she exclaimed in a southern accent.

“Don’t worry about,” Peter said reassuringly, leading Sam away from the nosey women and towards the room that their movie was being shown in.

There was an awkward silence between the two while the made it into the room showing their movie. Both seemed like they wanted to break the silence, but were unsure of exactly what to say.

The room inside the theatre was pitch black, and the large screen offered no assistance to them. Peter almost instinctively grabbed hold of Sam’s hand and led him to two open seats in the middle of the theatre.

Sam was grateful that his flushed face was unnoticeable in the dimly lit room. “Want some popcorn?” Sam asked as they sat in their seats, breaking the silence between the two.

Peters looked over at Sam surprisingly, then smiled as he picked out a single popcorn and flicked it into his mouth, earning him a wide-eyed chuckle from Sam.

A blood curdling scream blared as the intro to the movie flickered across the screen, and the two boys were suddenly transfixed on the shocking opening scene.

Three rows behind the two boys sat MJ and Ava, both clad in their disguises. Ava seemed to be suppressing her laughter at the movie as she scratched her short blonde wig, and MJ was intensely eating her popcorn while watching Sam and Peter closely.

The movie didn’t appear to have a plot, and was mostly composed of jump scares and found footage scenes. Peter and Sam laughed at the jump scene of the cat ghost. Sam was eating the gummy bears he had ordered, and Peter watched him lovingly as he did.

‘Screw it’ Peter thought as he faked a yawn and stretched his arms around Sam. The younger boy stopped eating his gummy bears, the butterflies in his stomach were making it difficult to eat. Deciding to take in the moment, Sam leaned into Peters side.

Both boys were now grinning from ear to ear as they watched the movie. Peter wasn’t sure if it was just the movie, but he thought he heard a muffled squeal come from behind him.

Three rows back, Ava was struggling to cover the mouth of an ecstatic MJ. The red head couldn’t help herself from screaming “Finally!” against Ava’s palms.

The movie quickly came to an end, and the ending credits had started playing, but Sam and Peter stayed in their seats. Peter looked down at Sam and smiled, “We should get going,” he whispered, trying his best to avoid planting a kiss onto Sam’s head.

Sam pulled out his phone, “Let’s just stay here until the Uber comes.”

Peter grinned, “You know, I could just web us home. It would be faster.”

           “Okay, let’s go behind the theatre so no one see’s you”

“Alright, I hope I can still lift you after all that popcorn you ate.” Peter teased, earning him a jab to the ribs from Sam.

Peter yawned with a stretch as he stood, then followed Sam to the staff exit at the back of the room.

The area behind the movie theatre was dimly lit, and the stench of the trash cans forced the two boys to pinch their noses closed.

“Hold on tight, okay?” The older boy said in a nasal tone.

“Okay,” replied Sam as he clutched on to his side tighter than necessary.

Peter shot a web at a nearby building, and they were off.

As they swung from building to building, Peter couldn’t help but relish the moment they were having. He hoped that he wasn’t misreading the signals, but it seemed like Sam was flirting back. ‘Better not push it’ Peter thought to himself.

           After about eight minutes they had made it into Peter’s backyard.

“I left the back door unlocked so we can jus- “

“Peter.” Sam said in a determined voice.

“Yeah?” he asked, turning around so that he could face him.

With no hesitation, Sam wrapped his arms around Peter’s neck, stood on the tips of his toes, and kissed him.

Peter’s eyes widened at first, but they shut as he deepened the kiss, snaking his arms around Sam’s waist to pull him in closer. Their eyes were still closed as they pulled apart.

After a moment of silence between them, they both broke into laughter.

Peter sighed, then wrapped his arms back around Sam to pull him back in, “What was that for?” he asked breathily.

“You were taking too long,” Sam said with a smirk.

@BlueFH: Thank you!! Sorry for taking so long to update ;-;

@Wingedwrite101: Thank you so much :’D Sorry for taking so long to update! I have a better idea of where this story is going now, so hopefully I’ll start updating more frequently