#when your resident clowns fall in love and do clown shit TOGETHER

[hotpinkstaples]

the fact that BOTH masaki and isshin were self-sacrificing clowns that saved each other, somehow fell in love, and then lived happily together for many, many years hand in lovable hand is just…… so damn good man. they really were the gold standard of “a stupid bitch can still make good choices,” and did they? they sure did. inshallah i hope she shows up in the hell arc in some milf hollow form, scoops isshin up, and just drops down into the void so they can spend the next thousand years being goofy and more in love.

[justagirlsearchingforamuse]

If you are still taking nsfw requests, could you please write Heisenburg having some 'alone time' with himself?

"Hmm ... yeah this will have to work ... running out of options because of that stupid man Ethan Winters. The man is nothing but trouble. ... I was a fool to consider trying to work with the clown." Karl growled in a ragged breath, his hands were pressed into his messy cluttered desk and he stood slightly hunched over his desk with his eyes staring at the revised plan he had. He stared over the plan once more, he'd have to either get rid of Ethan or let him do all his dirty work and then finish him off once more. As he slumps into his chair, a heavy sigh leaves his lips at once and he takes his old tethered hat off, he's quite surprised he hasn't lost the beloved accessory. Sitting it down on his disorganized desk with papers, photos, and crumbled pieces of paper he lets a heavy breath leave his lips and tries to let peace rest in his old factory and within his soul. The sound of machinery working actively, metals bumping into other metals and the scent of dust and metal lays heavy in the air. He liked his factory. Just the way it was. Messy. Dirty. Dusty. He loved it, it was his own little home and his place to truly be himself and truly allowed to be vulnerable without the worry of being seen as weak. As inadequate, he runs his thick fingers through his straight dark grey hair, pushing some hair out of his face as he listens to the machines, the huffing, and the metals clanking together and it reminds me of something he's tried so damn hard to forget. You.

He enjoyed and relished being alone, he was in his element, he was allowed to be vulnerable but there was that soft aching in his soul that missed your soft humming or missed hearing you enter his factory. He missed the smell of you, it was warm and so heavenly to his nostrils, when you would bother trying to clean up his cluttered mess and he would try and excuse it. Try and get you to stop. Damn, did he miss you. He sits up straight in his chair, his finger rests upon his bottom lip as he forces and pushes thoughts of you out of his head, he can't bear to think about you, he can't bear to be weak again after what you did to him. "fuck" he mutters in a swift breath as his hands cover his face, he buries his face in his hands as he finds getting rid of you is like getting rid of gnats, nearly fucking impossible. He lets out an agitated sigh, nearly growling to himself before his eyes lay heavy on his desk, still cluttered and messy once again he decides to at least get rid of some of his failed plans. As he begins to grab at a few crumpled up paper balls, he suddenly stops and another sigh leaves his lips, he stops as rushed words leave his lips. "what the fuck am I doing?" he mutters as he began to try and put things back where they were, his hands moved too quickly and suddenly a photo falls onto the floor. It's a polaroid, he twists in his chair and picks up the photo and his eyes harden at the sight of what he tries and tried so desperately to forget. To leave behind. His eyes meet the sight of your face, you took what Americans call a "selfie", a short yet soft chuckle leaves his lips at your weird slang and your way with words was so unique. You smile warmly at the camera, a natural smile suits you perfectly and the light in your eyes, the natural warmth that flushed your skin, everything about you reminded him of what he lost. The family he lost. He missed what he used to once be, human. Humans have freedom, are free to be whoever and do whatever they want but a cruel bitch with selfish intentions and a knack for kidnapping took that away from him.

His face softens at your picture, he remembers your laughter echoing through the room so beautiful and unique to his ears, how you would sit on his lap and tease him with your smile, he remembers so much about you. He remembers you. He remembers the day you left, bitterness on your tongue, sharp anger in your veins and you left with horror, with tears and with nothing but pain striking your face. He hurt you. In return you left him, you left him all alone with nothing but his so-called "family". He wants to rip up your picture, burn it and spit on the image he once treasured so dearly but all he can do is look at what memory he has of you. "Damn, you don't know how much ... how much I miss you ..." Karl whispers, a deep frown curls onto his lips and he can memorize and almost catch your voice in his ears. His throat begins to get tight and his lips try to tremble and quiver before, he buries his teeth in his tongue and inhales a sharp breath to stop himself from being too ... open. He exhales slowly and sets your picture down on the desk once more, he slumps back in his chair, and memories of you circle and float around in his head. "Come on ... forget her, she fucking left you." He mutters and murmurs to himself in a whisper, sighing once again as his fingers pinch the bridge of his nose, he keeps repeating "forget her, fuck her" almost like a mantra. But it doesn't fucking work. Especially when he finds himself pitching a tent, his pants become tighter and not as loose as he prefers them to be, he lets out a little more than agitated growl from his lips at the sight. Clicking his tongue, he decides that maybe he can turn this into just another jerk-off session that is nothing more than that, he sets your picture up on a coffee cup he has and lets it sit there right in view. His tongue swirls around his lips as he unzips his pants, he slips his hand in his boxers and lets his eyes rest as he wraps his hand around his firm thick semi-hard cock. He lightly squeezes at the organ, causing him to let out a swift breath at the sensation before leaning back just slightly more, grinding his teeth into his bottom lip he begins to gradually move his hand up and down his cock. "Damn ... kinda sensitive, huh?" Karl says in a slow ragged breath, his voice rumbles, and echoes through the factory.

He wants to rush into it, he wants to imagine you with your tongue down his throat, hands exploring his body and he could imagine your chuckles after he rips off your clothes. "Fuck ..." Karl whispers, his eyebrows furrow at images of you that flash in his mind, the things he's done to you, the sheer pleasure that he's given you has him squeezing his fully erect cock. His fingers travel to the head of his cock, he squeezes at the sensitive area causing a ragged deep growl to leave his parted lips, pleasure pulsates through him and leaves him almost like putty in his hand. He swallows thickly and inhales once again, his hand begins to slowly travel up and down his thick meaty cock that pulsates, eagerly. Heavy ragged breaths leave his lips, his eyes are closed, almost like he's relaxed and at ease with his hand shoved down his pants and his mind focused on the aching problem in between his thighs. When his hand travels to the head of his cock, his thumb moves in circles around the head, slow agonizing circles that leave him almost gasping for air at the throbbing sensations that travel through him. "Damn ..." Karl groans deeply, a ragged breath soon follows as he spreads his legs wider, his hand travels up and down his throbbing hard cock, heavy ragged breaths are all that leave his lips. "Shit ... shit ..." He breaths out heavily, he whines and it fills his throat and the factory he resides in, echoing heavily through the room before a deep breath leaves his lips. "Get the fuck outta the way," Karl whispers to himself, he pushes his pants down to his ankles and his cock isn't restrained by his pants, his hand moves to his cock once again and continues to gently stroke his throbbing cock that now leaks with precum. "Gah ..." Karl gasps, burying his teeth into his bottom lip as heat begins to flood into his being, his heart throbs and pulsates in his chest, and arousal pulses through him, leaving him aching for sweet release. Hot damn ...

"Yeah, remember how you used to just worship me ... do you remember how much of a masochist you were? That look on your face though ... whenever I had you tied up and at my mercy or ... whenever you needed to be punished ... oh damn ..." Karl rambles to himself, his words are slurred and his thoughts of full of nothing but you, he remembers how you used to tease him away from his work and how good you were at making him hard in mere moments. His cock pulsates in his hand at the thought of you and he decides to kick it up a notch, his hand begins to move at a slightly quicker pace as it travels up and down his throbbing meaty cock. His cock leaks with precum that travels down the head of his cock, his thumb quickly moves against the sensitive head, rubbing and massaging that sensitive area causing sharp waves of ecstasy to rush through him. He licks his lips and a wide toothy grin curls onto his lips, a light chuckle follows soon after as short and breathless moans leave his parted lips, the heat that was once warm gets hotter and it travels throughout his body. "Yeah, you remember that. You can't forget how good my cock felt down that tight throat of yours, how you savored my seed obediently ... haah ... damn." Karl rambles once more, imagining as though you were listening to him, what follows after his words are heavy breathless moans that are pried from his lips. He uses his other hand to clutch the chair's arms as his hand eagerly strokes and massages his cock aching in between his legs. "Ah ..." Karl moans deeply, a growl at the end of that moan as he can ecstasy pulsate through him, his body throbs with arousal and aching as he selfishly takes care of himself. He was getting close.

The heat that was hot as hell was now boiling inside of him, running his hands through his hair he wraps both of his hands around his cock, eager to taste his release quicker as his face twists at the waves and waves of ecstasy that travels through him. He clenches his teeth and his eyes are closed tightly, heavy ragged raspy breaths leave his lips followed by low growls of your name that he repeated like a mantra. "Oh, fuck ...! Oh, baby ... don't you miss me? Don't you miss how I used to fuck you ... nice and hard, all night fucking long and I still have your marks on my back." He rambles in a series of heavy breaths that clouded his throat, he begins to fist his cock swift and severely as sharp powerful waves of bliss washed over him in heavy waves of heat. "Oh, fuck! Shit! Oh, shit ...!, Baby, I want you so bad ... I want you here with me ... your lips wrapped around my cock or maybe you would want to ... want to be on your back like a dog. Eager for my cock, eager to get pounded into the mattress." Karl rambles once again, a smile is curled onto his lips as he is so eager to chase after a high, eager to chase after whatever he was deluding himself into that had him believing you were there. "Oh, shit! Goddamn ...!" Karl pants out, his breaths become raspy and sound like a growl at the end of each moan that falls from his lips. His throat is tight and struggling to keep oxygen in it, heat boils within him and he's just so enamored with the thought of you and you're not even there. Clenching his teeth, he begins to drive his hips into his tight fist, his hand swiftly stroking his throbbing hard cock as he throws his head back. Waves after waves of ecstasy travel and burst through him, the ecstasy is strong, merciless, and unforgiving and he fucking loves it so much. Oh, what you do to him ...

"Shit, baby ... I'm gonna ... I'm gonna come ... gonna come so fuckin' hard.  I love you ... I love you ..." Karl rambles out in heavy ragged breaths as he continues to vigorously fist his throbbing meaty cock, his breaths are caught in the middle of his throat and when it hits him his entire body disobeys him. His body jerks, almost jumps at the tides of bliss that flood through him and he reaches his boiling point, his stomach coils and he bites at his tongue enough to make himself bleed as thick ropes of semen land onto his shirt. "Fuck, (Y/N) ...! Oh ..." He whines deeply, his hand continues to vigorously stroke his cock, shorter ropes of cum spurt onto his shirt as he desperately tries to feel more. To see you again. He'll never admit that. Never let his mind admit because he's a stubborn bastard but there's that thought in his head, he was wondering if you would've said "I love you". He wondered if you would've just smiled at him and left him again, when he catches his breath a bitter taste hits his tongue, and memories of your time together hits him like a pile of bricks. Fuck, all he wanted was to forget you. Forget that you brought him up just to leave him when he needed you most. His eyes open and he inhales a shaky breath through his nostrils, pain weighed heavy on him and that's all he can think of. The pain. Your last words. The tears. He remembers you.

[thedistantdusk]

Arcadia, Chapter 1

My submission for the 2021 Hinny birthday challenge for the HG discord! Thanks to Liza for organizing, to @accio-broom for the Brit-pick, to @secretkeeper13 for the beta, and to anyone else who helped (I'm probably forgetting a few folks, apologies).

The challenge theme this year was content based on TV! This is an (extremely loose) X-Files AU, but you absolutely don’t need to be familiar with X-Files to understand this :D

TW (spoilers): swearing, references to (severe) mental health concerns, (eventual) consensual relations

___________________________________________________________

D A Y  + O N E

The woman probably finds herself charming as she stands in their driveway, her hands clasped in frozen excitement.

But Ginny just finds her creepy.

Really fucking creepy.

Harry drops hired car into first gear as they pull in. This woman— the head of the village council, Ginny reckons, the one she spoke to on the phone— wears perfectly-pleated Chino pants with a lavender jumper draped across her shoulders.

Her attire is standard for a posh village… especially a new-build village, one with a covenant and loads of stupid rules. It’s the woman’s eerie, opened-mouthed grin that shoots a chill up Ginny’s spine.

Her stark white teeth glint in the sun, but her smile doesn’t move an inch… and the longer Ginny stares, the more unsettled she grows. The only thing larger than her grin is the mane of yellow hair that surrounds her face like an ersatz halo.

Harry clears his throat as he turns off the car; Ginny realizes this is the first sound either of them has made since leaving London.

Awkward.

She reaches for her door handle, but the random woman gets to it first.

“You must be Jenny and Henry!” she shrieks, yanking on Ginny’s shoulders before she’s even unbuckled. “Oh, sorry! Love, do let me get the strap!”

Ginny’s on her feet and pressed to the stranger’s perfumed bosom before she has a chance to tell her she can manage just fine herself, thanks.

“Lovely to meet you in person!” the woman cries, nearly shaking with enthusiasm. It’s not until Ginny’s returned a weak squeeze that the vice-like grip around her middle weakens.

Rubbing her aching shoulder, she sneaks a glimpse at Harry; while she fought for air, he apparently climbed out of the car, only to stare at the two of them like a deer in the headlights. Now his elbow’s at an awkward angle, his hand behind his back, which could only mean one thing: he’s reaching for the wand in his back pocket.

Shit.

Ginny shakes her head and hopes her eyes convey what her lips can’t: She’s just a standard Muggle weirdo. Relax.

“I’m Jane. Jane Connors. In the flesh!” The woman (whose voice Ginny now finds painfully familiar) throws her hands in the air and twirls on the spot. “I take it you’re Jenny and Henry Petri!”

Harry interrupts with a booming chuckle before Ginny says a word; in three quick steps, he’s wrapped his arms around her shoulders. “That’s Pee-tri, actually. Like the dish,” Harry— Henry— adds with a wink. “And speaking of dish…” His eyes travel over Ginny, his voice going all deep and silky.

She bites back a shudder, hating the way her stomach drops as his fingers graze her arm. All that keeps her grounded is knowing the truth: Harry’s good at his job, nothing more. The only reason he’s suddenly become a skilled actor is that his career demands it.

Hers does too, she reminds herself firmly. And if she has any intention of successfully completing her first solo mission, she needs to get her shit together. Now.

Ginny blinks up at Harry, appropriately sobered; his eyes glimmer with mirth. As suspected, he’s only doing his job. Touch is just part of the assignment description. He has no way of knowing what it does to her— because really, truly, it shouldn’t.

And maybe if she keeps telling herself that, it’ll eventually come true.

Harry winks at Jane, tugging Ginny against his side. “My new wife and I had a long journey from the city! We were hoping to get some alone-time before tucking in, I’m sure you understand.”

Jane looks puzzled. “You— but it’s 5:43!” An uncomfortable giggle burbles from her lips. “You must be moved in by 6. Surely you’ve read the covenant rules?”

“Erm… may have missed that one,” Ginny lies. “There’s quite a few, see. We’re used to—”

But Jane shoves her fingers into her mouth, cutting her off with an ear-piercing whistle. Just as quickly, another chill races up Ginny’s spine. People up and down the street emerge from their semi-detached homes and race towards them, their faces in downcast unison.

They’ve all been watching. Waiting for the signal. Ready.

Ginny’s not sure how long ago the Department of Mysteries delivered the moving van and left it on the street, but the horde of random people aren’t fussed with the details, either. Within five seconds of Jane’s whistle, the strangers throw open the back door and begin an unloading process that reeks of military precision.

“Here’s the house key!” trills Jane, pulling it from her pocket. “Oh, and Petris!” She turns to Harry and Ginny, wagging her finger. “I’ll also need a copy of your car key, ASAP. We’re firm believers in the buddy system here in Arcadia.” She returns her attention to the stone-faced neighbors, who are now scurrying to the door. “This way, friends— right this way!”

“I— that’s really unnecessary,” Ginny says, bewildered, as people rush inside their new house, boxes in arms. “We’re perfectly able to—”

“Nonsense!” cries a man with grey sideburns as he takes a box from the back. “We’re neighborly here. You’d better get used to it.”

“Yes!” chimes another voice. A chubby man wearing a Polo and a golden necklace emerges from behind the lorry, hurrying up the walk. “We’re like a family here. We all— oh no!” He lets out a startled cry as a box labeled FINE CHINA topples from his arms and lands on the pavement with a thump.

He rushes towards it, face falling, but Ginny’s main concern is the box’s silent descent; she runs over, making a mental note to have a word with the designer of these props. Would something noisy and fragile have killed them? For fuck’s sake...

“Sorry,” the man says with a pained wince. “I’m just so clumsy. I-I promise, I’ll—”

“It’s fine,” Ginny soothes, dropping to her knees. “Don’t worry, really. We aren’t too big on dishes.”

Maybe if she keeps him talking, he won’t realize it’s bloody empty. Seriously, this is amateur shit. Luckily, he’s too distracted to notice.

The man offers a sheepish smile. “I’m Mike. Mike Snodgrass. You may have seen Mike and Jess in the resident guide, but erm…” He trails off, sadness in his voice.

Ginny cocks her head to feign confusion, but of course she’s familiar with Jess Snodgrass, 25, reported missing last November. Her photo’s been on Ginny’s desk for almost as long. Even now, Jess appears in Ginny’s mind with such startling clarity that she can almost see her beside Mike... all 5 feet of her, with curly red hair, bright blue eyes, and a lopsided grin.

Jess Snodgrass… Arcadia’s third missing person. The first to disrupt the couples-only disappearance pattern.

Mike shrugs. “But erm… it’s just me now,” he repeats. “I’m a primary teacher at Saint Julian’s, just up the road.” He nods to his left. “So if you’ve got any homework or school questions, give me a ring!” He pastes on a smile that doesn’t match his eyes; it’s an expression with which Ginny’s well-acquainted.

“I’ll have to remember that, Mike Snodgrass,” Ginny says, shaking his hand.

She immediately regrets it.

Seeing Mike Snodgrass on paper is one thing, but touch makes him human. His hand feels big and warm, his smile earnest and sweet; he reminds her so strongly of Neville that her stomach aches. Ginny breathes through her nose and focuses on the way his necklace — a medallion of Saint Julian, appropriately enough — sparkles in the sun.

“Like I said, I’m all alone,” Mike repeats, offering his hand to help her up. “If you ever need anything, Jenny, don’t hesitate to ask!”

Ginny taps her chin. “Actually, I do have a question! I reckon it’s just a rumor, though. You don’t have to confirm or deny.” She winks at him and leans in as a woman in a fleece jumper rushes past.

Mike’s smile widens, his face brightening… and ah fuck, that one hurts, because she’s about to break his heart.

“Mike…” Ginny murmurs, studying his expression. The more she says his name, the less he reminds her of Neville; she wants to keep it that way. “With everyone being so bloody hospitable here, how come there are so many disappearances?”

Mike stops bobbing. His smile vanishes as quickly as the former occupants of Jenny and Henry’s new home. When Ginny looks back into his eyes, her gut plummets with a sensation of wretched familiarity.

Because she expected sadness on his face… the same type she saw when he mentioned Jess’ name. Sadness she can deal with; sadness is painful, but she sees it all the time.

She sees something worse, though.

Fear.

And not day-to-day fear. This isn’t like hating needles or avoiding clown movies. Mike’s face is filled with the sort of wide-eyed, gripping, primal terror that seizes your insides in a vice. This is how you’d feel if your entire family were held captive in a dungeon, and a single word to the wrong person would spell their deaths.

Or how you’d feel if your ex-boyfriend were the corrupt government’s most desired fugitive… and you still fancied him very much, indeed.

“I… n-no idea,” Mike finally stutters, blinking. Then he sucks in a deep breath through his nose, his expression brightening again.

“So what do you and Henry do for work?” he asks in a booming voice, his grin now unnaturally wide. “We’ve got a carpool to the city if you’re interested. Reducing our carbon footprint is of utmost importance here in Arcadia!” He finishes by spreading his hands in each direction before placing them on his hips, that shit-eating grin still plastered across his face.

In another life, Ginny might’ve laughed. There certainly would have been a lot to cackle over, if she had the luxury of easy laughter. After all, she may as well be living in an am-dram nativity performance, complete with an overeager Joseph beckoning her to the stables after her harrowing desert journey.

Now, though, his reply only fills her with sad, professional detachment. Because fucking hell, how much did this poor man rehearse to get that line right?

She takes pity on him and snaps the bait. “My husband and I work from home,” she says, matching his volume. Someone’s clearly listening; it’s the least she can do. “You won’t see us out much.” Ginny brings the box to her hip. “And seriously, don’t worry about replacing the dishes, either. We mostly do takeaway.”

“No, let me bring you new ones,” Mike insists, his eyes pleading. “Tomorrow? Would that be—”

“What is this?” a voice demands from the back of the truck. Ginny peers around Mike’s shoulder. The man with the gray sideburns stares inside the lorry with a look of disgust.

“A trampoline!” Harry says, stepping aside as another neighbor races past. “We’re thrilled to put it in the garden, aren’t we, Jenny Cakes?”

Jenny Cakes. Is he fucking serious? Two can play at this game, prat.

“Indeed we are, Hen,” she croons, leaning into his side. “Jen and Hen.” She heaves a dreamy sigh and stares into his eyes. “We even rhyme!”

“Rhyming or not, this isn’t allowed,” the man barks, crossing his arms over his chest. “You’d have to apply for a special exemption with Mr Gogolak, but in the meantime…” He checks his watch. “5:53. Seven minutes. It’ll have to go in the garage tonight. I’m Oliver, by the way— Oliver Skinner.”

Harry gives him a theatrical scowl. “I’d say nice to meet you, but those who are enemies of trampolines are generally enemies of mine.”

Ginny bites the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing, but Oliver remains unamused. He raises his pointer finger as if to say something, but Harry gets there first.

“Onnnnly kidding!” Harry winks and claps his shoulder. “Hope we can be fast friends, Oliver.”

Oliver just glares back. “Count on it.”

_______________________________________________________

Ginny’s taking this whole thing very seriously. Not that Harry blames her.

Her voice echoes against the walls of the empty home as she paces around the sitting room, her camera flipped outward to record.

Despite his five-year Auror career, Harry has no real concept of what Unspeakables do. Which, he supposes, is by design. He knows they… know things. Secret things. Things you’d be happier not knowing. He also knows that Kingsley isn’t fond of them. Or perhaps it’s Attica Monkstanley, Ginny’s boss, who King dislikes in particular. Attica’s famous for her refusal to disclose anything — ever. This ranges from potential terrorist plots to her favorite type of sandwich. Thus, Attica isn’t particularly popular. After a career built on helping absolutely no one outside her department, the request for Auror backup on an undisclosed, top-secret endeavor went over about as well as a hippogriff stampede in a posh tea room.

Harry sighs at the blank walls of their would-be living room. King’s in charge now. Big in charge. He or Robards were the obvious choices to accompany Ginny — sorry, Unspeakable GW — on this mission, but when you’re Big In Charge, you call the shots. The shot King called was to pass the assignment to Robards, who in turn passed it to Harry; Robards decided he didn’t need to (direct quote) “take off a week from pre-existing assignments for some fake marriage, new-build village bullshit in the arse-end of Muggle nowhere.”

Admittedly, Harry’s in a bit of a lull at the moment. He’d been assigned to track and recover Yaxley, but that trail went cold on the border of Romania. Harry’s certain he’s just beyond their reach, maybe hiding in a cave, but seeing as how Harry’s not Big In Charge, his opinion doesn’t exactly matter.

Which is precisely how he’s found himself in this bland house in the village of Arcadia, pretending to be married to his ex-girlfriend… who, incidentally, he’s still hopelessly infatuated with, even five years after he ended things.

Because Harry Potter is nothing if not pathetic.

There’d been no realistic way to decline the assignment, though. Not that he’d tried. Seriously, imagine explaining that to your boss: “Mm yeah, sorry King, I can’t do my job because I still wank to the memory of Unspeakable GW riding my—”

Ginny’s narration jerks him from his thoughts. “It’s 6:15 PM on our first day of the assignment,” she dictates into her phone. “Auror Potter and I are secured in the home, posing as Muggle couple Jenny and Henry Petri.”

“Pee-tri!” Harry corrects, throwing his voice across the room.

He hopes he’s loud enough for the camera to detect, but he isn’t exactly brave enough to find out. Harry picks up their empty curry boxes and scampers into the kitchen without so much as a backward glimpse. He may have been forced into this assignment, but he’ll be damned if he can't have a bit of fun.

Her narration stops as he dips out of sight; if Harry were the gambling sort, he’d bet all the gold in Gringotts that she shot him a two-fingered salute away from the camera.

For some fucked up reason, the thought stirs something warm and exciting that lies dormant in his stomach. What’s worse is this feeling almost makes him smile.

No.

Harry draws a breath as he enters the kitchen.

As Kingsley’s told him several times, this arrangement is strictly business— regardless of his past with her. And in retrospect, yeah, the whole setup is an easy way for King to A) refuse responsibility himself, and B) put Monkstanley in a tough spot if it goes pear-shaped.

Harry pops open the rubbish bin. This is just the sort of liability King’s always looking to avoid, really, but— wait. He blinks down into the bin to make sure he’s not just seeing things, but nope… for some reason, the interior is divided into three sections, each in a different color.

Huh! Harry mulls this over before picking the blue bin at random and tossing the containers in. Maybe he’d know what each color meant if he bothered to read the covenant rules. Fortunately, he had much more exciting plans that particular evening involving Ron, loads of butterbeer, and a Canons/Falcons match from hell.

Whatever. Surely Arcadia would make an effort to clearly explain their recycling system if they really cared about the planet.

He returns to the living room just as Ginny’s providing a more in-depth introduction. “Right. I’m Unspeakable GW, badge number”— her voice becomes garbled gibberish, an extra level of concealment, before slipping back to normal speech— “and we’re here to investigate the series of unexplained Muggle disappearances in the village of Arcadia. As this may involve a potential escapee from the Thought Chamber, the Department thought it best for me to investigate. The Thought Chamber’s been my area of expertise for four years…”

Harry sinks into the sofa as she continues; he’s unsure if he should be sad or impressed that this is teaching him more about her job than she ever shared. Not that she did this for long while they were actually together, mind. Nonetheless, his chest flutters again with that stupid bittersweet pride as Ginny scans the room with the phone camera. All of this pageantry is necessary for her job, he knows. Careful documentation. Detailed recordings.

But for fuck’s sake, look at how much she’s done! She’s the youngest Junior Unspeakable in history, soon to become Senior, if this mission works out. She’s composed, she’s eloquent, she’s graceful. Another smile threatens to break through before Harry suppresses it; he just hopes that there’s someone in her life to remind her of how special she is.

She’s really dressed for the part, too. Harry’s certain that none of this is actually in her wardrobe. Seeing her out of jeans and a jumper is off-putting, but she’s done it so damn well. She once told him that most of her clothing choices were based on how easily she could wear them flying.

He swallows the sadness creeping up his throat. He doesn’t even know if she still flies, but she doesn’t in this outfit, that’s for damn sure. Her trainers are impeccably white, with a floral button-up blouse done up to her neck. She’s a bit like a young, beautiful Aunt Petunia; Harry reckons this is more or less the goal, but when she turns around to describe the stairwell, his eyes drop to her arse.

Shit.

He glances away as quickly, but he got a good look. Her casual trousers are rolled at the ankles, but they’ve done nothing to make her look… plain. Harry shuffles on the sofa, desperate for anything else to think about. Somehow, Aunt Petunia’s face still puckers in his mind’s eye, but now he can’t escape the mental image of her bent over the oven of 4 Privet Drive, only this time sporting a round, perfect—

“Potter’s here for backup,” Ginny says, returning to the sitting room. “I’m on primary investigation.”

Thank God; he sighs at the welcome distraction before remembering that bantering with her has always been an effective palate cleanser. So he does that, instead.

“Well, you know what they say,” Harry calls, leaning back against the cushions. “There’s nothing less interesting than the suburbs. Which is why I could never do your job, Jen.” He ends with a wink, resting his hands behind his head.

Ginny arches a brow, holding the camera in front of her. “And please take note, Attica, that the next time this happens, I’ll be the one to choose the names.”

She means it casually… he knows she means it casually. But something in her words pricks him. Irritates him. Wedges beneath his skin.

“Quite an assumption I’ll ever spend this much time with you again,” Harry mutters under his breath.

Shit.

He freezes. He didn’t mean to say that out loud, at least not so… bitterly. Once upon a time, he possessed the social graces to think before replying like that— but days of interpersonal nuance are long gone. They belonged to a carefree teenager with few thoughts aside from the next time he’d run his fingers through the thick, red hair that currently swayed in a long ponytail.

By the time he looks back up at her, Ginny’s face is filled with disappointment. And she’s closed her phone.

“I’ll have to redo that last bit of filming,” she says with a sniff. “But for what it’s worth?” She raises her chin. “You didn’t mind spending time with me in the distant, distant past, Auror Potter.”

Ha!

That was a tremendous understatement.

He’d been in love with her. Stupidly. Disgustingly. The first six months after the war were a blur of sex and mourning. They’d been so punch drunk and delirious that they probably used each other’s bodies more than either of them knew. He really thought they’d have a future, though… that they’d end up getting married and buying a house. Except theirs would have been different than this one. Filled with far more character and history and warmth. Their home would have smelled like baking bread and sounded like kids giggling and felt like a soft blanket on a cold night.

But none of that had anything to do with the way he snapped. So why bring it up, really?

“Sorry,” Harry whispers, tucking his hands beneath his bum. “That… I didn’t mean. I’m sorry. I just meant that we don’t see each other much, and…” He lets out a slow breath. Best to stop talking before he digs himself deeper.

“I forgive you,” Ginny says quietly. A full second passes before she offers him a smirk. “As long as I can still call you Pookie Pie in front of the neighbors.”

Harry blinks at the carpet with a sad smile. “Deal.”

[cebwrites]

Also write something for you. Write Law and his boyfriend watching movies together <3 or something for your own soul.

i will!! i already wrote something self-indulgent for law tonight, but this prompted another idea to crop in my head so i hope you don't mind me using this to air it out <33

drunk HCs (Kirin, Reiji, Rio)

mostly oc x oc, law and katakuri are mentioned once(1) word count: 0.6k

Kirin

Man rarely gets drunk, if ever

He drinks a lot, enough to keep up with the likes of Zoro, even, laughing obnoxiously and partying it up with the other resident alcoholics like frat bros without the misogyny - just guys being lads <3

But it’s only around other people and never when he’s feeling upset

Kirin avoids drinking alone, if even one or two other people joins him then that’s enough, though in this case rather than being howdy and partying it up, it’s almost like he gets-

Somber?? Somber.

For once, he doesn’t crack jokes, isn’t even playful or snide about anything, he’s just-- plain and open about his feelings with these one or two people who had the misfortune of catching the silly lil guy, the resident trickster, when he wasn’t goofing around

Kirin doesn’t like being vulnerable like this, it makes him feel icky and the hangovers worse he feels - if he wants to have a heart to heart with someone he’d much rather do it sober than with the ply of alcohol

Law come pick him up Kirin needs to be held (he’ll spend the next morning sleeping all those feelings off in the Heart captain’s room surrounded by Law’s nice smelling clothes)

Reiji

A miserable light-weight

Reiji starts getting tinted ears after the first one and a half drinks and it's only downhill from there, it won't be long until he's fully red in the face, slurring his words, and sleepily trying to cuddle anyone who resembles his partners within his periphery

Or, in at least a handful of cases, actively avoiding Kirin trying to help him to bed because, "he's a taken man, dammit!" before he drunkenly wonders if he even is one, then promptly falls asleep on the tatami, couch, wherever he can rest his head semi-comfortably

And that's entirely why Reiji usually spends his time at the party either in the kitchen, or spoiling his captain with Kirin's head in his lap

For how drunk he gets, though? Surprisingly little hangover, man can pop an aspirin, reorient himself for ten minutes, and then go about his day like he didn’t get absolutely shitfaced the night before on maybe three to four drinks, at most

Reiji does, however, like making amazake or other kinds of rice wines, for the people on his ship that enjoy alcohol, as a hobby

Rio

Holds his alcohol pretty well and knows when to stop because he has morons to corral into bed who can and will get into shit if left unsupervised

Rio maintains a pleasant buzz throughout the night until half an hour before it’s time to leave, sober up, and then pack their clowns to go

By far the most responsible drinker by a longshot, especially in comparison to her beloved crew (she does love them, they just piss him off sometimes a lot of the time)

But still the one saddled with the worst hangover out of all of them because god must think it’s funny 

There can’t be a shred of light in the room when he wakes up otherwise Rio’s eyeballs and cranium feel like they’re going to explode

Let alone any noise, GOD, if anyone so much as breathes too loudly in his direction he’ll tell them to shut the fuck up

There’s little else they can do about it other than cover his eyes and maybe cry into his husband’s giant tits until the pounding in his head subsides - Katakuri a comfortable mattress hubby, if not a little concerned

The general rule on Kirin’s crew is that if Rio’s drinking, then Izzy isn’t - and vice versa, to make sure that at least two people will still be functional enough the next day if Lady Luck frowned on them with another Grand Line-typical disaster, hostile pirates, or the navy

[batterycityghoul]

There’s a Bad Moon on the Rise (Ben Hanscom/Reader) (1/3)

Summary: You're Richie's twin sister and a member of the Losers' Club. When the other members all pack up and leave town, you elect to stay behind with Mike to wait for It to come back. After 27 years pass and Pennywise returns, will you and the other Losers be able to finally defeat him?

Pairing: Ben Hanscom/Reader; Richie Tozier & Reader; Background Richie Tozier/Eddie Kaspbrak

Word Count: 6.2k

Author’s Note: This is finished at 16k. I decided to split it up into three parts to make it easier. If you enjoy this, then letting me know would make my day! If you’ve seen It: Chapter Two, then you know what you’re in store for regarding warnings...but with the added fun of some canon divergence! 

Masterlist / Read on AO3

The summer of 1989 was one of the most terrifying and exhilarating times of your life.

Growing up, all you really had was your twin brother, and by extension, his group of friends. The girls at school never gave you the time of day, which was the way you preferred it, and most of the guys were completely disgusting.  

By the time school let out in June of '89, your only plans involved hanging out with Richie and his friends while avoiding Henry Bowers and his gang if at all possible.  

Of course, you didn't count on Pennywise.  

The Losers’ Club rose and fell that summer all thanks to the clown who seemed hellbent on traumatizing you all for life.  

You were used to the little group that consisted of you, Richie, Eddie, Stan, and Bill. You had grown used to their antics and usually had to be the first to talk them out of their more dangerous plans. Most days, they drove you absolutely crazy. You figured that was probably par for the course since you were the only girl among a group of boys.  

Surprisingly enough, you got along with all of them. Richie was your twin and the person who knew you best. Out of anyone else in the world, you knew that if you had to, you would die for him. He could be a bit of a jackass, but he loved you in his own way.  

Eddie was the worrier of the group. He was always the first to voice a concern, no matter how outlandish it might seem. You spent half your time with Eddie reassuring him that he was fine and the other half trying to get him out of his own head so he would actually enjoy his time with the group.  

Stan was the other much-needed voice of reason for the group. Both of you had to work overtime to keep the others out of trouble and ended up bonding because of it. When you were just a little too done with the others, you looked to Stan to pick up where you left off. Richie liked to joke that maybe you were misplaced at birth and actually Stan's twin since you two were so alike at times.  

And then there was Bill. He seemed to be the unofficial leader of the group, because everyone always turned to him for a plan. He was sweet and despite the tragedy he went through with Georgie, he always wanted to help.  

He was also the one in the group that you had a giant crush on.  

Crushing on one of your brother's best friends was inconvenient at best. Mostly, you were sure Bill only saw you as his best friend's sister and left it at that. At the very least, even if you wished he saw you as more, you could still always count on Bill to have your back.  

So, while you were more than happy with the friends you had because of Richie, you couldn’t help but wonder if your little group would ever grow.  

Fortunately, that summer, three more kids joined The Losers' Club.  

Ben Hanscom, or Ben Handsome as you liked to call him, literally dropped right into your lives. He was shy and sweet and you found yourself gravitating towards him as time went on. He seemed to have a doomed crush on Beverly while you were totally miserable over your feelings for Bill. You spent many moments with Ben, both of you commiserating over the wreck that was your love lives.  

After Ben joined the group, Beverly Marsh was soon to follow. She was funny and fierce and fearless. You couldn't help but admire the way she absolutely took no shit from any of the others and even managed to fit in with the group of misfits that made up The Losers' Club.  

Mike Hanlon seemed to be the final piece of the puzzle you didn't even realize was missing until the infamous rock war against Henry Bowers and his gang. To your surprise, you and the other Losers managed to win, and it seemed the prize was Mike Hanlon. He was studious and calm in a way that leveled out the group. You were grateful for his presence when he joined, because he soon became your only anchor in the whirlwind that was soon to overtake your life.  

You were glad for the friends you made that summer. Without them, you weren't sure if all of you would have survived. Pennywise would have come after one or all of you and without the others, you might not have made it.  

Storming Neibolt House the first time was only the first fracture you experienced as a group, though. After Eddie broke his arm and everyone went their separate ways, you were scared about what it would do to you. As a group, you all stood a chance against Pennywise. But alone with only your brother to fall back on? You couldn't help but think that it would be oh-so-easy for Pennywise to take his revenge on you all.  

You spent most nights terrified out of your mind that the shadows on the wall spelled your doom. The near-constant fear seemed to only help you bond with Richie more. You spent most nights in his bedroom, staying up until all hours of the night, and doing your best to not flinch at any and every strange noise.  

You watched Richie slowly fall apart without the other Losers. You knew there was one in particular he was missing the most, but you didn't push him to talk about his feelings for Eddie. Derry in '89 wasn't the most welcoming place for what Richie was going through and Henry Bowers and his bigotry in no way made it better. All you could do was let Richie know you loved him and accepted him no matter what and he seemed to take solace in that.  

The group didn't reunite until Beverly was taken by Pennywise.  

Going back to Neibolt House to confront Pennywise felt like the most idiotic decision you had ever made, but it was your only choice if you wanted Beverly back. You were so terrified that she would be dead like the other missing kids, and even though you tried not to let fear rule your movements, it was hard not to jump at every shadow or errant noise down in the tunnels.  

In the heat of the battle against Pennywise, when he flashed his several rows of sharp teeth your way, you almost hesitated. You could easily imagine those teeth tearing through your flesh and ripping you apart. It was Bill's voice urging you to swing at Pennywise that had you using the piece of wood in your hand to attempt to hurt Pennywise.  

By the time Pennywise had managed to escape, you were exhausted. Stan was hurt. Beverly was acting odd. Bill had broken down after having to essentially kill Pennywise's borrowed form of Georgie. The rest of you were still shaken and terrified, but everything you suffered through only seemed to work in your favor afterwards. The group came back together and you couldn't help but think that you felt invincible. If you could go up against a murderous clown with your best friends, then there was absolutely nothing you couldn't do.  

Despite everything you all went through and achieved that summer, it wasn't long before the group broke apart again. By the end of that summer, The Losers lost a member. It was a trend that would continue over the next few years until there were only two left in Derry.  

Beverly was the first to leave. She promised to write, but something weird happened. Once Beverly left Derry, you didn't hear from her. You could tell it worried Bill and the others, but a part of you wondered if it wasn't for the best after everything Beverly had endured in Derry. If you could, you would have wanted to cut ties with the town as well. Although, you hated that she also seemed to be cutting ties with The Losers’ Club.  

After Beverly, Ben's family left. And then Bill. And then Stan.  

By the time it was only you, Richie, Mike, and Eddie, you started to wonder what the future held for all of you. You started to wonder if they were ever coming back.  

Eddie and Richie planned on leaving for college, but you had known that you were going to hang back in Derry. You were going to stay with Mike and wait for It to return.  

It was something both of you had decided on and while Mike insisted he would be fine on his own, you knew that it would be a very lonely existence to spend twenty-seven years in Derry just waiting for Pennywise to resurface. You knew that Mike would need someone to help him through the worst of it and while you knew it didn't have to fall to you, you also didn't notice anyone else sacrificing themselves.  

It didn't make it any easier to say goodbye to Richie and Eddie once they finally left.  

"Are you sure you don't want to get out of this shithole?" Richie was watching you as if he had half a mind to just shove you in his car and drive as far away as he could. "You don't have to stay."

"Yeah," you told him with a sad smile. "I kind of do."

"Well, I'll call," he assured you with a pat to your shoulder.  

"Sure," you agreed. He wouldn't. He would forget. You were sure that was what happened when you left Derry. You just forgot. Forgot the town. Forgot the life you led there. Forgot everything.  

If you forgot Pennywise, then how would you ever know to come back and try to finish the job? No, you would stay in the cursed town with Mike and wait. That was all you could really do.  

You watched Richie go with a feeling of dread in the pit of your stomach.  

It wasn't so terrible at first. Pennywise wasn't around to terrorize the residents of Derry or making meals out of fearful children, so a sleepy contentment settled over the town. It was peaceful, but incredibly boring.  

Mike managed to secure a job at Derry Public Library while you started working the check-in desk at The Derry Townhouse.  

You found that even with Mike's company, you still felt incredibly lonely. You found yourself flipping through photo albums and wishing that Richie would call. You wanted to hear how Beverly was doing and if Bill was working on a new book. You wanted to ask Richie if he ever made a move on Eddie or if they went their separate ways. You wanted to see how Stan was doing and if Ben was making a name for himself as a renowned architect.  

You never did, though. If the others didn't remember Derry, then maybe it was for the best.  

You usually spent most nights having dinner with Mike. He was doing his best to research Derry's history and figure out Pennywise's origins. He figured if he could just figure out one weakness, then it would give you all a fighting chance when Pennywise inevitably came back to wreak havoc on Derry.  

Despite how much you hated it, time wore on. Some years seemed to drag on while others flew by. It seemed like you were bringing Mike a sandwich at Derry Public Library when he mentioned forgetting his lunch at home in 2009 and then suddenly it was 2015 and you were starting to see Christmas decorations appear around town.  

You were at the library one night in mid-December, waiting for Mike to finish shelving returns so you could eat dinner together. It was your turn to cook, so you were planning on making spaghetti and meatballs. Mike had already mentioned the leftover birthday cake in the staff breakroom that was up for grabs, so you were hoping to have some for dessert.  

You were sitting at the front desk, scrolling through a news article about Richie adding more dates to his US tour, and trying to distract yourself from growling stomach. You felt a strange mix of grief and pride as you read the article. You were so proud of your brother, but you mourned the years you missed watching him grow in his career and as a person. There was an ache you got every time you checked up on the other Losers, but it was especially fierce when you came across any news about Richie. It seemed unnatural to have to go without your twin for nearly twenty-seven years and some days you didn't know if you could stand it anymore.  

"You know what's coming, don't you? You know what has to happen?"

You startled at the sound of Mike's voice coming from just behind you. He was reading the article over your shoulder, a sad smile on his face when he looked to you.  

You bit your lip before nodding your head. "They have to come back. They have to help us."  

Over the years, you had both talked over the possibility that Pennywise would be back numerous times. You half-hoped the evil fucker wouldn't dare show his face as long as there were any Losers left in Derry to protect it, but you knew better. Your luck had always been rotten and it wouldn't be long before the murders and reports of missing people started featuring in the news again.  

You had spent so much of your time with Mike trying to convince him that you didn't need to involve the others. Two was always better than none, and while you wanted to see your brother and friends again, you didn't want to risk their lives. Mike was adamant that they all had to come back, though. He insisted it wouldn't work otherwise.  

Mike was incredibly vague about what he meant by that. You knew there was something he was hiding from you. It had to do with the research he had carefully hidden from you, prompting you to believe that there was something heading your way that was likely to kill you all. You hated that after all these years together, he still didn't fully trust you. He had only ever asked that you trust him. He claimed that whatever he had discovered was the ace in the hole you needed to defeat Pennywise.  

You felt a sinking feeling in your gut with each day that passed during the year of 2016. You weren't sure when Pennywise would resurface, but you instinctively knew he would reappear during the summer. It only seemed fitting that the summer of 1989 started this strange and horrifying journey, so why shouldn't it be the summer of 2016 that would end it for good?  

You thought it was morbid that you found yourself thinking that either you would die and Pennywise would continue his reign of terror, or you would somehow live and defeat him. With each passing day, Mike's confidence seemed to be infectious. You caught yourself thinking wistfully of a future away from Derry. You weren't sure where you would go or what you would do, but after so long spent trapped in the tiny town, all you knew was that you wanted out.  

Even though you seemed to always be waiting for his return, Pennywise still managed to catch you by surprise. You were going over the books for the Townhouse, having managed to successfully buy it from the owner in 2014 when he decided he wanted to leave Derry, and bemoaning your choice to become a business owner, when the phone rang. You absently reached out to grab the receiver, frowning down at the numbers that you were sure had to be complete bullshit.  

"Derry Townhouse," you muttered into the phone. "How can I help you?"

"He's back," Mike said, his words immediately sending a chill down your spine. "I need you to meet me right now."  

You weren't really sure how you got from being on the phone with Mike to standing at his side, both of you struck speechless by the bloody message Pennywise had left behind for you to find.  

"Come home," you muttered, feeling fear begin to settle deep within your gut. You tried to fight it off, knowing that was exactly the reaction Pennywise was looking for from you, but you couldn’t help it.  

Mike sucked in a deep breath, as if steeling himself, before he put an arm around your shoulders. "Let's go back to the library," he suggested with a weight to his words that let you know what was coming.

Mike volunteered to make the calls. He seemed a lot more level-headed about what had to happen than you did. You felt like you were sentencing everyone you loved to die. You didn't know how Mike was able to stomach calling each and every former Loser and reminding them of the oath they had sworn in 1989.  

Mike had always been resolute in doing what it took to survive, though. Trapping himself in Derry for twenty-seven years, with the memories and ghosts and fear, was more than enough proof of that.  

When the last phone call was finished, Mike turned to offer you a grimace.  

"I guess we'll have to wait and see what happens now. But I think they'll show up. They have to," he added with a tone that told you he didn't fully believe that. "Do you have any open rooms at the Townhouse?"

You couldn't help but bark out a surprised laugh. "Business isn't exactly booming," you offered when Mike shot you a confused look. "I can house the Losers."

"Then all we have left to do is wait," Mike added with a wry twist to his lips that told you what he was thinking.  

You had both done nothing but wait for the last twenty-seven years.  

It was later that night, after you managed to drag yourself back home, when you got a phone call from a number you didn't recognize.  

"Hello?"

"How the fuck did I forget I have a sister?"

You laughed, a smile on your face. "That's the magic of Derry," you said. "Hey, Richie. I've missed you."

"I think I've missed you too. Fuck," he hissed. "This is so fucking weird. I can remember Mom and Dad, but not you. How the fuck is that fair?"

"Mom and Dad eventually left. I never did." There was a heavy silence left on the line that made you mourn the easy communication you used to share with Richie. "How did you end up with my number?"

"When I stopped freaking the fuck out, I called Mike back and asked him for it. It's funny," he mused with a tone that suggested it was anything but funny to him. "I always felt like there was something missing, but I couldn't figure it out. Like there was someone there who should have been. I guess it was you," he offered with a sigh. "So, hey, you know I'm famous now?"

You felt a genuine smile break out on your face as Richie launched into telling you a story about an afterparty he once attended that resulted in him getting so wasted he accidentally threw up all over a former Spice Girl.  

Later, as you were settling down in bed, you couldn't quite fight off the anxiety that had taken hold of you. If Richie came back to Derry, then Richie would have to fight Pennywise. You couldn't quite justify the idea of making your brother relive some of his worst memories, but you knew that it had to happen. If you believed Mike, and you did, then it would have to be all of you. It didn’t mean you had to like it, though.  

You reached over to turn off the lamp on your nightstand, plunging your room into darkness.  

Moonlight peeked around your bedroom curtains, lending you enough light to just see the outline of the other pieces of furniture in your room. You started to close your eyes, but you caught sight of something that looked out of place.  

There was a figure standing just near the foot of your bed. You felt your breath hitch, a familiar thrill of terror coursing through you when the figure seemed to take a step closer. You heard a wheezing, rattling breath as a hand reached out to rest on the edge of the bed.  

You gasped out a choked breath before you made yourself move, quickly turning on the lamp again. When you looked to the end of your bed to see that there wasn't actually anyone there, you let out a relieved breath. It had seemed so real and with Pennywise back, you couldn't help but wonder if this was It's doing.  

You felt like a child when you left the lamp on, only managing to doze off every once in a while, before jerking back awake to hastily check and make sure no one was standing at the end of your bed.  

You remembered the sleepless nights you suffered in ‘89 because of the same brand of fear you felt that night. There were nights when you swore there was someone else in your room while you were trying to sleep. Whether it was Pennywise’s demented giggle jolting you out of sleep or the feeling of fingers drifting over your ankle accompanied by the sound of a rasping, wheezing breath. You weren’t sure you actually got a full night of sleep that summer and you worried you were in store for the same now that Pennywise was around yet again.  

You spent the next day booking rooms for the other members of the Losers’ Club and counting down the hours until you were all supposed to meet for dinner. You felt a nervous excitement at the idea of finally seeing everyone again. You weren't really sure how everyone would react to remembering Pennywise and the summer of 1989, but you were nearly relieved that it wouldn’t just be you and Mike any longer. It felt like you had been carrying around a terrible secret for years and now the burden would finally be lifted just the slightest bit from your shoulders.  

When you got to Jade of the Orient, you had to sit in your car for a few moments and take deep breaths. You weren't sure why you were so nervous, but you couldn't help but fear that the group dinner was going to be disastrous. You didn't know how much the others remembered, but you were sure once the full effect of Derry began to hit them, it wasn't going to be pretty.  

As you walked up to the restaurant, you noticed a man and a woman standing near the entrance. You felt a smile break out at the sight of the red hair on the woman. You knew instinctively who she was as you got closer.  

"Beverly?" You couldn't help but ask as you considered her.  

Beverly turned to look at you, her eyes narrowing for a split second as she attempted to recognize you, before her eyes went wide. "Y/N?"

"Yeah," you confirmed with a nod of your head as you moved to pull her into a hug.  

"God, it's been so long," Beverly said as she pulled back. You noticed her look at the guy standing just behind her before she glanced back to you. "Ben," she mouthed with a tilt of her head, silently clueing you in to the man's identity.  

"Ben Handsome," you started as you took a step away from Beverly. "Is that you?"

You noticed a blush spread across his cheeks before he ducked his head, suddenly sheepish. It was a gesture you recognized from childhood and you couldn't help but let out a pleased laugh as you moved to tug him into a hug as well.  

"It's good to see you, Y/N," he murmured in your ear.  

You pulled back and let yourself fully consider Ben. You couldn't help but think that he was remarkably handsome and you felt yourself blush when your eyes met his. His hands were on your shoulders and even though it was well past the moment when you should have stepped away, you felt nearly transfixed by him.  

You were struggling to think of something to say, not sure if the moment was turning awkward or oddly heated, when you were interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat.  

You glanced over to see Richie standing just a few feet away. "Well, you all look amazing," he observed as he studied you, Beverly, and Ben. "What the fuck happened to me?" He wondered with a self-deprecating tilt to his lips.  

"Richie," you couldn't help but say as you practically flung yourself at your brother.  

"Hey, Y/N," he said with a delighted chuckle before he brought his arms up to embrace you. "It's been a while, hasn't it?"  

"Too long," you agreed with a sigh as you pulled away from him. You stepped back so he could have his own little reunions with Bev and Ben as well.  

"So, were you guys going to stand out here all night or are we going to get on with this impromptu Losers' Club meeting?" Richie asked after hugging Beverly and shaking hands with Ben. "You three looked kind of cozy out here," he added with a raised eyebrow in your direction.  

You shook your head and turned towards the entrance to the restaurant. "Beep beep, Richie," you muttered before you pulled the door open and stepped inside.  

Reuniting with Bill and Eddie felt just as bizarre and surreal as seeing Richie, Beverly, and Ben again for the first time. Your eyes kept seeking out the empty chair at the table, however. You wondered where Stan was, but like with every meeting of the Losers' Club, it quickly turned loud and chaotic.  

Richie couldn't help but poke fun at Eddie and while you were onto him, it felt like you were able to breathe again after years of suffocating within Derry's walls. You had felt trapped for so long that you forgot what it was like to have almost everyone back with you again. You listened to everyone catch up, your eyes seeking out Bill from time to time. You could still feel the remnants of your childhood infatuation and a part of you wondered if you would ever be over him. You kept glancing to where a wedding band had recently resided on his left hand, surreptitiously reminding yourself that while Bill was recently divorced, it was unlikely that he would ever feel anything for you.  

You focused on the little things that made you feel at peace for the first time in years. Mike's small, proud grin as he listened to Bill talk about his new book and the way Richie kept glancing at Eddie, as if he couldn't believe they were in the same room again. You also saw the spark of interest in Richie's eyes once Eddie mentioned he was separated and well on his way to a divorce.  

You noticed the soft, private grins Beverly shot Bill and the way Ben kept watching Beverly with a reverence that told you his childhood crush was still in effect as well. You let their laughter wash over you as you ate and drank, your thoughts turning to Stan more and more often as the evening wore on and he failed to appear.  

"So, Y/N," Ben started as he leaned forward in his seat, focusing on you. "What have you been doing all these years?" You knew he was trying to deflect after Richie had embarrassed him by calling him hot, so you decided to have mercy on him.  

"I, uh," you started before taking a sip of your drink. "I've been running Derry Townhouse for the past few years."

"You own that shithole?" Richie asked with incredulity in his tone.  

You rolled your eyes before reaching across Beverly to pinch Richie's arm. "Yes," you answered. "And since you're all staying there for free, I'd like a little more gratitude."

"Thanks, Y/N," you heard Ben pipe up before the rest of the Losers toasted to you.  

You had fooled yourself into thinking it might be a nice, uneventful reunion, but you should have known better. Pennywise had to take the first shot at the Losers' Club through the most disturbing and grotesque display.  

The Pennywise bomb had just been dropped on the rest of the Losers right before the fortune cookies were dropped off at your table. Mike had reminded them of the oath they had all sworn and while Richie had attempted to lighten the mood a bit, you knew that everyone was well on their way to freaking out.  

Once Eddie pointed out that his fortune was just one word printed on the small slip of paper, you realized that none of your fortune cookies actually contained a typical fortune.

After you deciphered the message from the fortune cookies, an ominous warning about Stan's fate that read 'I Guess Stanley Could Not Cut It,' chaos erupted from the bowl of unopened fortune cookies in the middle of the table.  

You barely had time to process the fact that you were all being attacked by nightmarish monstrosities when you felt a hand wrap around your bicep, quickly pulling you away from the table. You looked over to see Mike, his eyes wide and frightened, as if he too had allowed himself to forget for a moment why you had been forced to call the Losers back to Derry.  

It wasn't long before there were horrifying creatures flying about the room, knocking into the light fixtures and diving towards you all.  

You heard Eddie scream and glanced over to see Ben trying to shield Eddie from something attempting take a bite out of him. Richie yelled Eddie's name, concern and fear clear in his voice. You only had a moment to make sure your brother was safe before something big and terrifying and screeching flew right into you.  

"Fuck!" You blurted as you tried to ward off whatever was trying to sink its talons into your forearm.  

You felt an arm around your waist before someone spun you away from the threat. You were suddenly facing the wall while someone stood at your back, shouting as they tried to face the creature that was just attacking you. You were panting for breath, not sure if it was out of fear or the adrenaline crashing over you, as you turned to see it was Bill who had saved you.  

"Y/N! You okay?" You heard Richie ask, but you didn't get much of a chance to respond before Mike picked up a chair and began to smash it over the middle of the table in an attempt to destroy the rest of the fortune cookies, insisting that what you were all seeing wasn't actually real.  

You were all more than a little jumpy as you finally gathered outside Jade of the Orient. After the hilariously inappropriate way Richie had yelled at a kid, forgetting for a moment a line from his own comedy routine, you were more than ready to crawl into bed and forget everything.  

You didn't even realize that Beverly was trying to get in touch with Stan, because you were so distracted by the way everyone else was freaking out. Richie and Eddie were yelling at Mike for lying to everyone by conveniently forgetting to mention Pennywise when he called everyone home while Ben and Bill seemed to be silently trying to process everything that had just happened.  

Mike was doing his best to keep everyone from skipping town when Beverly turned to face the rest of you, her phone held to her ear. She quickly put the call on speaker, allowing all of you to hear who was on the other line.  

It wasn't until you heard Stan's wife confirm that Stan was dead that you realized all of your worst fears were coming true. The Losers' Club hadn't even had an opportunity to really face Pennywise and one of you was already gone.  

You were barely aware of the fact that you were struggling to breathe. Stan couldn't be dead. Stan was always the shared voice of reason with you and one of the first to try to talk some sense into the Losers’ Club. He was Stan. Steady and dependable and sarcastic as hell. And he was dead.

"Mike," you called, tears starting to track down your face. "Did we kill Stan?" You whispered as you rounded on him, your breath stuttering in your chest at the thought. "When we called him, did we kill him? Did we do this? Is it our fault?" You could no longer justify calling everyone to ask them to return to Derry. Stan was dead and you couldn’t help but feel like it was all because you weren’t capable of facing Pennywise by yourself. Your fear of getting everyone you loved killed was washing over you and stealing your breath away.  

"Y/N, no," Mike murmured before he moved to pull you into his arms. You only had a moment to rest your head on his shoulder, the tears flowing freely as guilt threatened to overwhelm you, before you were tugged out of Mike's hold.  

"Hey, what the fuck did you do to my sister?" You heard Richie ask as he pulled you into a hug.  

"Yeah, fuckwad, why are you making Y/N cry?" Eddie jumped in. His specific brand of indignation in his tone had you laughing somewhat hysterically into Richie's shoulder.  

"He didn't do anything," you assured them as you finally managed to calm down. “I’m just upset about Stan.” You knew that what you were feeling in that moment was just going to give Pennywise nightmare fuel against you later. How was he going to twist this to haunt you? You shuddered at the thought before you patted Richie on the shoulder and stepped back. "I'm okay," you managed to say as you reached up to hastily wipe away the tears still tracking down your cheeks.  

You felt someone place a hand on your shoulder and you looked back to see Beverly standing there. You noticed the tears welling in her eyes and the haunted expression on her face and knew that Stan's death was hitting her just as hard.  

"Come on, Y/N," Richie pleaded as he pulled your attention back towards him. "Let's just get the fuck out of this shitty town."

"I’m not going anywhere, Richie. I live here," you reminded him with a helpless shrug of your shoulders.

"Well, you're moving," he told you as if it was that easy. He let out an incredulous laugh as he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his coat. He looked like he was trying to resist the urge to reach out and grab your arm, as if he was toying with the idea of dragging you out of Derry if he had to. "I can't believe I let you stay here," he muttered.  

"I had to," you argued with a shake of your head. "I couldn't leave Mike alone all these years."

Richie snorted before he rolled his eyes. "Just, come on," he insisted as he nodded over towards his car. "You too, Eduardo. Let's go."

"Yeah, I'm right there with you," Eddie agreed as he made a break for his car.  

"I drove myself here," you reminded Richie when he seemed like he was about to herd you towards his car.  

"Fine. Fuck," Richie sighed as he glanced away. "Meet us at the Townhouse," he conceded before he took off across the parking lot.  

You turned and met Mike's gaze, silently asking what you should do now.  

"I've got him if you've got them," Mike said as he nodded over towards Bill. "There's something I've got to show him. But we'll see you at the Townhouse."

"Yeah, okay," you allowed with a grimace.  

"Y/N," Mike called before you could fully turn away from him. He pulled you into a hug, letting you rest your weight on him for a moment.  

"It was Stan, Mike," you muttered into his shoulder. "Stan."

"I know," Mike soothed as he pulled you closer for a brief moment. "We're going to kill It this time. We'll make It pay. But we can't do that if the rest of us don't band together."

"Yeah," you sighed, understanding what he was telling you to do. You had to go to the Townhouse and make sure none of the Losers were trying to skip town.  

"Y/N," Mike called again just as you were reaching your car. "Thanks," he said when you turned to look at him. "I really couldn't imagine doing any of this without you."

You offered him a weak smile and a nod before you got behind the wheel of your car.  

If you cried all the way to the Townhouse, mourning Stan and wishing that you could go back in time and stop Mike from calling him, then no one had to know but you.

[blouisparadise]

We recently received a request for enemies and lovers recs. We already have an enemies to lovers fic rec list here, but after looking at that list, we realized we had much more to add to it and therefore decided to make a part two.

Happy reading!

1) I Couldn’t Get Away From You | Mature | 5185 words

Suddenly in the heat of the moment, Harry’s eyes turned darker as he pushed Louis’ back more and more towards the wall. “Fine.” He plants his lips on Louis’ and begins to roughly kiss him, soon enough turning it into a make-out session.

“Fuck you, Styles,” Louis moans and grips onto Harry’s shoulders, hands trailing up to the taller’s hair and gripping that as well.

“We’ll see about that.”

2) There's More Than One Place To Call Home | Explicit | 8416 words

Harry never asked for much from his neighbors - he didn't care about barking animals during the day or loud talking during the night.

The only thing he needed was silence when he was writing. And that was the only thing his new neighbor wouldn't give him.

Deciding to confront the loud guy who lived next door, Harry found himself ringing his doorbell one night. And that decision just may be the best thing that's ever happened to Harry.

3) Make A Run, Cause Some Rebellion | Explicit | 8824 words

As a general rule, kitten hybrids are small and disinterested in what other people want them to do, slightly evil and at least a little manipulative. Louis prides himself on being all of those things to varying degrees, but especially on being uninterested in what other people tell him to do. He’s still human goddammit, despite his pointy ears and penchant for curling up in the sun and taking naps.

He’s going about his daily business, knocking things over where he sees fit and leaving a trail of mess in his wake. As exasperated as it makes Liam he’s used to it by now, having shared a flat with Louis for almost three years now, and if Louis whines enough he’ll even clean up after him. It’s a great life, really.

With the exception of Liam’s stupid, broad shouldered, entirely too big mate, the one who always comes over to watch sports with him. Louis hates that guy. His hair is always greasy and he brings weird hipster beer with him when he comes that tastes like shit. And he won’t even let Louis have any of it, either. The only reason Louis even knows what it tastes like is because one time he stole a bottle from the fridge and fled to his room before Harry could catch him.

4) Something To Prove | Explicit | 9425 words

Louis is the first and only omega to work at Red Valley Medical Center. Despite being more than qualified, he still faces prejudice for his career choice everyday. From patients refusing his treatment to condescending alpha doctors intervening with his work, practicing medicine in Boston is more challenging than Louis had ever thought it would be.

5) Where Do We Go Now | Explicit | 10617 words

Louis goes off to college ready to start a fresh life away from the oppressive alphas of his pack.  The odds aren't in his favour when his new dorm mate turns out to be an alpha.  Louis hates alphas.

6) Enjoy The Ride | Not Rated | 11103 words

The one where Louis, an omega more than tired of being treated as lesser than alphas, is forced on a road trip by his beta besties only to meet Harry who might just be the alpha he never knew he wanted.

7) I Didn’t Fall For You (You Fucking Tripped Me) | Explicit | 20681 words

These days Louis tends to steer clear of dating alphas. He’s dated too many knotheads in his time, and he’s ready to just focus on school and his friends and his pet monitor lizard, of course.

Too bad the alpha next door won’t take a hint and stop using the worst pick up lines of all time on him. He’s really got to stop laughing with him--and talking to him and walking to class with him and letting him bring him coffee and tea and gifts for his lizard and watching Netflix together and...

8) Written In The Stars (That’s You And Me) | Explicit | 22632 words

Louis pushes himself up on one elbow and stretches enough to just barely trace his fingertips over Harry’s jawline. Harry’s eyes drop to track his movements as he does it again. “D’you feel that?” he whispers.

To him, it feels like all of the universe’s magic lives just beneath his skin when he touches Harry with intent. It feels like something special. Louis watches Harry’s lips part and wants to touch that too. He almost does, but then Harry shakes his head. “Feel what?”

6) Middle Ground | Explicit | 23516 words

Note: This fic has been locked and can only be read by AO3 users.

Harry moves to a new town for work where he meets the enigma that is Louis Tomlinson.

10) When It’s Late At Night | Mature | 25597 words

The Late Late prompt that we all need to get through this excruciatingly hard time.

11) Supposed To Be | Explicit | 26100 words

The Geek Charming AU where Harry's a film geek, Louis' a popular jock, and they both need each other to get what they want.

12) Magical Soup | Explicit | 28850 words

Slytherin prefect Louis Tomlinson's seventh year at Hogwarts takes an immediate turn for the worse when he's made to be potions partners with Harry Styles, Hufflepuff's resident heartthrob and class clown.  Louis has always considered Styles to be a terrible show-off who coasts by on his charm and good looks, but the more they work together, the more he questions that idea.  As term goes on, will Louis be able to admit to himself that he might actually like Harry Styles after all... and maybe, just maybe, as more than a friend?

13) Building Me Up (But Buttercup, You Lied) | Explicit | 31007 words

Harry’s mouth felt dry just saying those words. What he had with Louis was so much more than a simple ‘fuck buddies’ situation. It was slow kisses in the morning between soft sheets and shy smiles, it was holding hands in the afternoon while walking and eating ice cream. It was breakfast for dinner, laughing and licking honey from each other’s lips as they shared goals and even some secrets, it was happiness, it was glow.

To Harry, what he had with Louis meant everything. Until Louis decided it meant nothing.

14) You’ve Set On Me | Explicit | 31100 words

Louis' in an obscure band. Harry's an international popstar. Their paths aren't meant to cross, not like this, but when Louis' band signs on as Harry's opening act, both Harry and Louis are forced to confront the open wounds of their shared past.

15) Nicotine | Explicit | 32245 words | Sequel

"We're two different types of people, Liam. He likes sex and drugs, I like theater and tea. Trust me, we'd never date." Except they would, they do, and neither of them plans on letting go anytime soon.

16) Let Me Feel Your Heartbeat | Explicit | 34572 words

Harry is 98% sure Louis hates him. So he feels like his bewilderment is justified when the omega offers to help him through his rut.

17) Close To Nowhere | Explicit | 34589 words

Louis and Harry are psychics who kind of hate each other. They go to Tennessee to investigate a haunting.

18) Make This Feel Like Home | Explicit | 42032 words

The house on West 28th Street in London is twice the size of Louis', more expensive than the price of all of his house and car payments combined, and is falling apart at the seams.

19) Strangers in Love | Explicit | 42207 words

Louis wakes up to find himself in a marriage with the last man he thought he'd ever end up with.

10) Why Can’t It Be Like That | Explicit | 63567 words

A fashion AU with a royal twist, where Louis doesn't need a stylist, Harry's thrilled to have a real life Barbie doll, and they're both very wrong about each other.

21) I Want You So Much (But I Hate Your Guts) | Mature | 83648 words

AU in which Louis gets accepted to play for the Manchester University Alpha-Beta Football Team. The only problem: Louis is actually an Omega. He is determined to make it big in the football world, though, and he can't do that bound to an Omega team. With the help of a faked doctor's certificate and some pretty strong suppressants he is ready to fight for his dream.

That Harry Styles (Alpha, second year and youngest football captain of the A-B team in ages) doesn't seem to like him complicates matters, though.

22) For Reasons Wretched and Divine | Explicit | 94655 words

Note: This fic is locked and can only be read by AO3 users.

Ten years ago, Harry Styles was just a nerdy kid with one friend and a debilitating crush on the captain of his school’s football team. He thought the stars were smiling down on him the day he and Louis Tomlinson were paired for their end-of-term Literature project. But because Harry’s life is decidedly not a fairytale, the budding friendship quickly leads to the least happy ending of all time.

Now, Harry Styles is a household name. Barely twenty-seven with two Grammy nominations to his name, the singer-songwriter is poised to take the music industry by storm with his highly anticipated third album. So, what happens when the best producer in the business is also the only person Harry’s vowed never to speak to again?

23) You Drive Me Crazy (But It Feels Alright) | Explicit | 102306 words

Note: This fic has mentions of BH.

“Harry is not short for Harold,” he corrects, his voice as thick as molasses. He lowers his eyes to Louis’ sequined lapels, rubbing one between two fingers. “Is this small or extra small? It looks lovely.”

Louis breaks away from his grip with a petulant huff and pushes him back with two fingers.

“You’re mocking me. Again.”

Harry smiles and it's a real honest swoop of his lips this time. Louis’ stomach swoops with them.

24) Tainted Saints And Velvet Vices | Mature | 126056 words

A self-fulfilling Hogwarts AU in which Louis is new to seventh year and Harry is the resident devil-may-care Slytherin set to make his entire experience a living misery. Due to less than favourable circumstances they're forced to forge an unwilling, tentative relationship for their own survival. Repressed emotions, decidedly unromantic ballroom dancing, Triwizard Tournament tasks, creative jinxes and twilight flying above the Forbidden Forest ensue.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

[just-jordie-things]

The Lady And The Trashmouth - Richie Tozier

word count: 10,245 warnings: swearing, violence, terribly recalled scenes from the movie summary: The Losers don’t really like Richie hanging around (y/n), they’ve got this irrational fear that he’s going to ruin her sweet personality and innocence.  but (y/n) has to admit... she kinda has a soft spot for Derry’s resident Trashmouth. (a/n): I literally have no idea what this is or where it came from.

___

“Richie, would you calm down for three seconds so you could at least take a breath?” Mike groaned, but the trashmouth continued on his rampage anyways.

Today was supposed to be a fun day at the quarry, but Henry Bowers came up and now Richie wouldn’t stop running his mouth about that-

“-piece of motherfucking shit that can’t tell the difference between his reflection and a swine-”

(y/n) didn’t get to hear the rest of Richie’s rather creative complaints, because Beverly had placed her hands over her ears.  It didn’t make her deaf by any means, but his voice was muffled enough that she couldn’t quite make out what he was saying.

However, when Richie looked at her, and then looked at Beverly, his mouth snapped shut and he gave the red haired girl a glare.

“Really?” He asked, just as Bev had removed her hands.

“What?” She replied innocently.  “You’re going to ruin her kitten-like innocence”

(y/n’s) face scrunched up at that, finding the term weird.  But Beverly wasn’t entirely wrong, because she certainly wasn’t as foul mouthed as Richie, but that didn’t mean she was some pure of heart child that needed to be sheltered either.  It was a sweet notion though.

“Whatever” Richie rolled his eyes, and gave up on his rant.

(y/n) frowned as he walked away, and sat on the rock furthest from her and Beverly.  But when Bill and Ben started talking about Derry’s history, she peeked over at him, concern on her brow to see him arguing with Eddie in hushed voices.

Eddie’s eyes caught (y/n’s), and he slapped Richie on the arm a couple times, abruptly ending whatever argument they’d been having.

(y/n) gave him a worried look, which Richie returned with a big stupid grin.

Richie Tozier was something special, that much was for sure.  She always sort of had a crush on him, even though their friends tended to cover her ears when he spoke, or drag her away from him every time they were alone for more than five seconds.  But he was always nice to her, and he made her laugh, and he was cute, and had a charm that made her want to be around him more.

When they got their bikes to go to Ben’s house, (y/n) made sure to ride next to him.

“Are you and Eddie alright?” She asked, and he gave her a weird look.

“What?”

“You guys just looked like you were fighting,” She said.  “You okay?”

Richie had to turn away for a moment so he could bite back his smile.  Ever-so-sweet-(y/n) had thought that he and Eddie were fighting, which they were, but it hadn’t been anything out of the ordinary.

When he looked back at her, seeing her brows were still knit together and her eyes still had that pitiful look of concern, he nodded his head.

“We’re fine, sweetheart,” He told her with a chuckle.  “I just had to remind Eds that there was an AIDS epidemic going on, and he didn’t know who’s been doing what on those rocks-”

“Oh fuck off, Tozier” Eddie called, turning around on his bike to flip off the mop headed boy.

Yeah, eavesdropping was kind of his thing right now.

“Nothin’ to worry about” Richie said to (y/n), ignoring Eddie’s outburst.  

She nodded back at him, a relieved smile on her lips.

Something weird was going on in Derry, this was no time for her friends to have a falling out.

Richie winked at her, and she forgot for a moment that they were going to Ben’s to investigate the missing children. ___

Eddie had caught on to Richie’s feelings for (y/n).  It actually surprised him that none of their other friends, or (y/n) for that matter, had noticed it.  Richie stared at (y/n) all the time.  Pretty much every time she wasn’t looking.  And since the others always tried their best to keep the two separated, Richie was persistent in trying to hang around her.

This usually resulted in someone covering her ears, or dragging her away and giving Richie a dirty look.  He wasn’t good at realizing when he took things too far, and he learned early on in their meeting that the other Losers saw a potential of innocence in (y/n) that they didn’t want him fucking up.

Apparently, all he would do is fuck her up as a person.

He looked over at (y/n) now, while she was flipping through old newspaper clippings Ben had collected.  She looked so pretty and smart standing at his desk, lip curled with intrigue while she was reading.

Maybe his friends were right.  (y/n) was a different breed of human than he was.  That’s what Stan had told him.  She was soft and sweet like a marshmallow, she did all of her work in school, she danced when there wasn’t any music playing, and she kept her cussing to a minimum.  She loved all of her friends equally and unconditionally, she wore jeans with cute sweaters and cardigans, she giggled like an angel and she smiled like one too.  She was the most admirable person he knew.

(y/n) glanced up, her eyes meeting his almost instantly, like she could feel him looking at her.  And in seconds, there was that angelic smile.  He smiled back, not that he could help it, and turned around to pretend to be interested in the papers posted to the wall.

“You’re a fucking idiot” Eddie grumbled, appearing at his side out of nowhere.

“I’m not having this conversation again” Richie replied, still feigning interest in the wall.  Fuck, he wanted to leave.

“Cool, then I’ll just go tell her my fucking self that you’re too chicken shit to say that you’re in love with her-”

“Shut the hell up Eds” Richie rolled his eyes and walked over to Ben, making some comment about Derry being a beaver trap.

(y/n) snorted into her hand, turning away to hide it better.  But Richie saw.

He hadn’t meant to be so blatantly rude to Eddie, he just couldn’t take the nagging anymore.  The pressure to do something, to act on the crush he’d been harboring for the last year or so.  Eddie was only trying to help, in his own pushy way, but it only pissed him off.  He knew he wasn’t going to do anything about it.  Their friends would never be okay with it, not with the way they’ve been acting.  And any chance of him plucking up the courage to make a move had died months ago.

“The Barrens,” Bill mumbled.  “I-I think I have an idea”

They left Ben’s, and biked all the way to Bill’s house.  (y/n) swore if she had to bike another mile across town again, she’d give up and go home.  But she had to admit, this was the most interesting thing to happen in Derry since forever.  Mass amounts of kids going missing every twenty-seven years? That would keep them occupied this summer.

When they got to Bill’s, he immediately began to ransack through boxes in the garage, throwing things and ripping them open.  It wasn’t until he had aggressively ripped through a box of Georgie’s packed up things that (y/n) stepped in.

“Hey,” She said softly, pulling his hands away from the box.  His wild eyes met hers and he seemed to calm for a moment.  “It’s alright, take your time.  What are you looking for?”

He explained what he needed, and with some help was able to set up the projector and place a clear sheet over it, displaying a map of Derry on the wall of the garage.

(y/n) plopped down on the couch next to Richie, giving him a small smile  before directing her attention back to the map.

Bill was doing his best to explain his jumbled thoughts without jumbling his words too, but the others were patient, letting him take his time and focus on what he was saying.  That was, until he mentioned that wretched house.

“Neibolt?” Eddie had chirped up as soon as it was mentioned, shaking his head back and forth.  “No fucking way, not happening.  No.  That’s a fucking crack house-”

“But that’s where IT lives,” Beverly said.  “That’s where-”

“G-georgie could be,” Bill finished her thought, and they shared a look, before he turned to Eddie again.  “W-we have to tr-try”

Eddie was still shaking his head.

“Th-this might b-be our only ch-chance-”

Bill wasn’t able to finish, as suddenly a photo was flicked in front of the projector.  A picture of the Denbroughs being broadcasted overtop of the map on the wall.

“Bill…?” Richie asked, surprisingly speechless as the picture kept getting closer and closer.  “What the fuck?”

Everyone watched with wide eyes as his mother’s hair covered face was the focus of the display, hearts beating as rapidly as the picture was changing.

As the photo began to move, and the face of a clown was revealed, (y/n) barely had time to process a scream before Richie was snatching her hand in his, and pulling them both off the couch and scrambling over the back of it.

And then, since things weren’t traumatizing enough, the clown leapt out of the screen.

“What the fuck! What the fuck!” He was screaming while simultaneously pulling her closer and holding her tighter.  She had her hands balled up in his tee shirt, her face buried against it to hide the views.

Everyone was scrambling around like chickens with their heads cut off.  Screaming, swearing, crying, and meanwhile (y/n) had frozen up, not making a sound, barely moving.  Just keeping her eyes screwed shut, because she knew what happened when that clown was around.

Beverly was fast to act, opening the garage door, and as soon as the chaos had started, it ended, and the clown disappeared.

It was then that Richie realized the girl was trembling in his tight embrace, and she slowly lifted her head, barely peeking her eyes open to be sure that It was gone.

“What the fuck was that?” Richie hollered, his hand unconsciously rubbing between her shoulder blades comfortingly.  “You still wanna fucking go to Neilbolt? After that shit?”

Stanley pulled (y/n) back by her elbows, much to Richie’s dismay.

“It was gone as soon as Bev opened the door,” Ben said.  “Maybe all we have to do is expose it to-”

“You’re crazy! This is fucking crazy!” Eddie screeched.  “There is no way- no way that I’m going to that fucking house!” ___

The bike to Neibolt wasn’t too long, and gave (y/n) the time she needed to calm down.  Clearly her friends had already brushed off the incident in the garage, and it made her feel embarrassed to still be so affected by it.  To have to look over her shoulder every other minute, to have rub her arms to get the goosebumps to disappear, no one else seemed to be as terrified as she was.

She jumped when Richie smashed a bottle on the wooden railing of the house, and then tossed it to the ground with disinterest.  The loud shatter brought her back from her thoughts, more specifically, the memory of It terrorizing her at the quarry last week.

“Come on sweet girl, I won’t tell anybody”

The words rang in her head like an awful, awful record stuck on repeat.  

But when Bill lead everyone inside, she followed nonetheless.  She would follow her friends to the ends of the earth, to the depths of hell, so a crack house that was definitely haunted shouldn’t bother.

“That’s asbestos,” Eddie pointed out, already beginning to panic.  “Oh my fucking god that’s definitely- we’re gonna die.  If It doesn’t kill us, cancer fucking will”

When a hand laid on (y/n’s) back, she looked up to Richie Tozier, who was staring back at her worriedly.

“You okay?” She murmured as not to get the attention of their friends.

He let out a small scoff of a laugh.

“I should be asking you that,” He whispered back.  “You haven’t stopped shaking since Bill’s” He told her like she didn’t know already.  Although no one else had pointed it out, she thought that no one could tell.

Her mouth opened to speak, and then shut again, not sure what to tell him.  She didn’t want to admit to Richie that she was a coward, but he was concerned.

“Can you blame me?” She half joked.  “I thought we were gonna die”

Richie forced a smile, but his brows were still cinched together, like he didn’t believe her.  And (y/n) knew she wasn’t a very convincing liar.

He didn’t say anything more about it, but he did keep his palm flat against the back of her sweater as they continued walking through the house.

This was probably the longest period of time he’s got to stand next to her without someone stealing her away from him.  It was nice.

He just wished it didn’t have to be in a demon clown’s child-eating house.

Nothing was too out of the ordinary for an abandoned house, until his eyes caught sight of a paper on the ground, and he left (y/n’s) side to inspect it.

“What the fuck?” His distressed cry caught the attention of the others, and he held up the sign.  “It says I’m missing-! Why am I fucking missing? I’m not fucking missing! Am I gonna go m-”

“R-Richie,” Bill tried to cut his friend off from his ramblings, but Richie was still talking, rambling on and asking if he was next.  “Richie! S-stop!”

“Richie,” (y/n) spoke in a softer voice that actually caught his attention.

She took the paper from his hands, crumpling it up and throwing it to the floor, and then reached up to set her hand gently against his shoulder.

“You’re not missing,” She continued slowly.  “You’re right here, with the rest of us,” Her voice was so calm and quiet, it actually slowed his heartbeat.  “Okay?” She nodded, waiting for him to respond in some sort of way.

Beverly and Stan shared a confused glance, eyebrows deeply furrowed at how she’d managed to calm down Derry’s most rambunctious guy.  They didn’t even think that (y/n) and Richie really had a connection.

She moved her hand up to lay against his jaw for just a moment, a short, but bold moment.  And then dropped it just as soon as he’d gotten used to the warmth of her palm.

Nothing was said between them as everyone went back to their trek through the house, but he didn’t leave her side again.

He did notice that Bev and Stanley kept shooting looks over to the two of them, like they were incredibly puzzled.  But he didn’t care.  No one had tried to make (y/n) leave him, so he didn’t make any smart ass comments that would cause them to want to.

“Uh, guys?” Mike spoke, slow and worried, afraid to even mention anything.  “Where’s Bill and Ben?”

With the one question, (y/n’s) heartbeat spiked again, looking around for her friends, feet frozen to the floor.

“O-oh my god” She stammered under her breath.

Everyone started screaming for them, looking around and trying not to run too far from each other as they searched every hall, every room, for where they possibly could have gone.

“I don’t see them-!” Beverly had started to panic, but was dragged by an invisible force into a room, the door slamming shut and locking behind her.

(y/n) had run after her before Richie could grab her arm and keep her planted at his side.

“Bev!” (y/n) screeched, pulling with all her might on the unmoving handle, and then slamming her fists against the door repeatedly, screaming for her to come out.  But she wasn’t sure she was even in that room.

The floorboards creaked, but the thought of them breaking through completely hadn’t even crossed (y/n’s) mind until they burst under her feet and she was falling a story below her.  Eddie, who had been on the verge of a panic attack next to her, fell through as well.

Their bodies crashed painfully against an old wooden table.  The force so strong that they broke right through it.

“(y/n/n)!” Richie’s scream was painfully blood curdling, and it made her head hurt as she rolled it to the side.  “Are you okay?”

“Fuck you,” Eddie was able to reply, and tried to push himself up.  He whimpered as he realized his right arm was definitely broken.  “Fuck!”

“Eddie,” (y/n) mumbled, sitting up and trying not to burst into tears from how much that just hurt.  She would definitely find bruises later.  “Are you okay?”

“My fucking arm! It’s fucking broken!” The boy was squealing and whimpering and clutching his arm to his chest.

“W-we have to- we gotta move-” She stammered over her words, pain blinding her vision and choking up her throat.  

All she could think about was how much it hurt tot stand, how wobbly her legs felt.  

“We need to get out of here” She said as clearly as she could manage once she’d stood up.  She helped Eddie to his feet, even though it made her ribs ache.

“Stay there!” Richie called from above.

Him, Mike, and Stan were peering down through the opening, all bearing the same terrified face.

“We’ll come to you, just don’t- don’t move” Richie ordered.  (y/n) wasn’t sure if he’d said anything more than that, because her hearing was going in and out between a sharp ringing and Richie’s screaming.

But then him and the remaining two boys took off, leaving (y/n) and Eddie stuck.

“Fuck it,” Eddie grumbled, hobbling towards the doorway to the room they were in.  “I’m getting the fuck out of here”

“N-no,” (y/n) begged.  “Eds, don’t leave- they’re coming, don’t leave me here please don’t leave me here”

She could no longer contain her tears, and now they were pouring down her cheeks nonstop.  Eddie wasn’t sure he’d ever seen her cry before, and he realized that he didn’t want to go through the house looking for an escape alone anyways, so he walked back into the room, and sat with (y/n) against a wall.

She felt like a sitting duck, just waiting to be found by It.  But she wasn’t going to leave and risk Richie not finding her, and she wasn’t leaving without him.  With great struggle, she pulled her knees to her chest, and leaned her elbows against them as she held her head in her hands, trying to catch her breath and stop her tears.

“H-he’ll find us,” Eddie spoke after what felt like years.  “Richie, he’ll find… you” He added, much more awkwardly.

(y/n) looked over at him, a not so sure expression on her face.  She’d stopped crying, but her eyes were still puffy and glossy.

“He will” Eddie repeated.

He knew that Richie wasn’t going to give up on her, that he was probably knocking down every door he could in search for a staircase to the basement.

“I’ll bet he’s yelling at Mike and Stan right now to move their asses” He told her, eliciting a small watery laugh.

“Yeah,” She whimpered, and sniffled.  “He can’t live without having you around to mess with”

Eddie smiled sadly, and cradled his arm a little closer to his chest.

“Can I tell you something?” She asked, and he nodded.  (y/n) looked at him, and then back to her lap, taking in a deep breath.  “I think… I think the others don’t want me to be around him,” She admitted.  “I think they think that he’s… a bad influence, or something”

You’re goddamn right, Eddie thought, but didn’t cut her off.

“But that’s not true,” She said quickly, looking at Eddie to make sure he understood that she didn’t believe that.  “I like Richie, a-a lot, actually, and I don’t think he’s a bad influence at all, or a b-bad guy”

“Or bad looking?” Eddie teased, and for a few seconds forgot about how his arm felt like it was on fucking fire.

(y/n’s) cheeks went pink at the accusation.

“You’ve got a crush on him? Really? The forbidden fucking fruit?”

“Look, I’m only telling you this now because if we die, I don’t want to have to be seen as the pure and innocent one of the group for eternity” (y/n) told him.

“We’re not dying” Eddie said reassuringly.

She smiled back at him, trying to believe him, trying to tell herself that they could get out of here and go home soon.

However, It had other plans.

Chaos erupted again as It appeared, seemingly ten feet tall as he loomed over the pair, and the screaming and pain returned while they scrambled to their feet and tried to run somewhere safe.  There weren’t many options, and (y/n) found herself against the opposite wall, half the tabletop they’d broken through in front of her like a shield.

Not that it would do much to protect her.

A new scream, of the loud, shrill, deadly sorts, echoed through the room, and (y/n) knew it was Beverly Marsh’s scream.

“(y/n),”

Richie.

“Open your eyes, come on” She looked up to see him taking away her piece of wood and pulling on her arms so she’d stand.

She glanced over to see Beverly stab a fireplace poker straight through It’s eye, and out through his jaw.

“Go! Go! Come on!” Bill screamed, sutterless, and led everyone out of the house as hastily as he could.

(y/n’s) feet were hesitant to move, body still frozen in place as she stared at the clown, whose blood was floating up into the air.

Richie pulled her arm gently, bringing her gaze up to meet his.

“We have to go” He told her, pulling her again, and this time getting her legs to move, and she was running with him out of the house.

It wasn’t until they got outside that he let go of her, as they picked up their bikes and headed for the street.

“We’ll have to c-come back l-later-”

“No” Richie stated.

“W-what?”

“No.  We’re not fucking going back,” He repeated himself.  “Look, Bill. I’m sorry about Georgie, but we’re not risking our goddamn lives over it-”

“T-take that back,” Bill stuttered, dropping Silver and storming up to Richie.  “I-I’m sorry you were s-scared b-but take that b-back”

Richie shook his head.

“Look around, Bill!” He gestured outwards to their friends.  “Eddie broke his fucking arm, Bev practically killed a guy, (y/n’s) traumatized for life- we’re not gonna fucking die over this like all the other kids”

What happened next was a flash, and the gasp that left (y/n’s) mouth was involuntary, and she leapt forward before Bill could hit Richie again, or Richie could strike back.

“H-hey! Hey!” She hollered, thanking Mike silently for restraining Richie.

“Guys, stop!” Beverly yelled.  “This is exactly what It wants, It wants to tear us apart! We can only defeat it when we’re together”

“W-whatever,” Bill muttered, picking up his bike.  “J-just go.  If th-that’s what you w-want”

Richie shoved Mike off of him, glancing from Bill, and then to (y/n) who was staring up at him with round, almost hurt eyes.  That look on her alone made him want to die.  He swore his heart dropped to his stomach and was currently being digested. ___

(y/n) had been torn on who to follow.  Beverly and Ben were following after Bill, to no one’s surprise.  Mike was going home before his grandfather could notice he was gone.  And Eddie and Stan were biking after Richie.

She’d gone home.  She wasn’t going to pick sides with her friends, they were her friends, her family.  Picking one side would betray another, and the last thing she wanted was to hurt anyone's feelings.

Riding her bike made every muscle and bone in her body ache even worse, and in the back of her mind she knew that this wasn’t a good idea.  But she didn’t want to be alone, and she didn’t want to leave her friends alone either.

When she knocked on the Toziers’ door, she was surprised that Stanley was the one to answer.

“(y/n)?”

“Stan?”

They spoke at the same time, both puzzled to see the other there.

“What are you doing here?” Stan spoke up first, before (y/n) could ask him the same question.

“I…” Her eyes darted away from his skeptical stare.  “I could ask you the same thing” She finished weakly, too nervous to tell him the real answer.

“Richie’s parents are gone tonight, Eddie and I are staying over tonight because…”

“You’re scared?” (y/n) asked, her nervousness disappearing as she now looked at her friend with concern.  “That’s a great idea, can I stay too?”

“W-what? No, (y/n), it’s Richie’s house-”

“So?”

“So….” Stan repeated, but couldn’t think of a good argument off the top of his head.  “So won’t your parents be upset if they find out you’re staying overnight with a bunch of boys?”

(y/n) furrowed her brows, wondering why he was being so weird about this.

“Stan, just let me in-”

“(y/n)?”

Richie had just come downstairs, and saw Stanley with the door wide open.  It only shocked him that she was the one on the other side.

“What’re you doing here?”

Her cheeks flushed pink, which Stan caught.  She didn’t have a decent answer, seeing as the real reason was that she came to tell him about her feelings, about how she wished she’d spent more time with him since they might die soon.  This didn’t seem like the right place or time to tell him.

“She called while you were in the shower,” Stan quickly lied.  “Asking how everyone was, I told her we’re staying the night for… safety,” He coughed over the word, and (y/n) rolled her eyes at his inability to admit such a simple thing.  “And then I invited her”

“Oh, nice,” Richie grinned.  “Well get out of the fuckin’ way Stan, let her in”

The curly haired boy stepped aside, and (y/n) walked in, an anxious smile on her face as she looked between the boys.

“Have you had dinner?” Richie asked, and she couldn’t find it in herself to speak, so she just shook her head instead.  “Eddie’s making grilled cheese.  I’ll tell him to make you one” He told her, and winked before heading to the kitchen.

This left her and Stan alone in the living room.  And Stan was giving her a very peculiar look.

“You’re welcome, by the way,” He said, crossing his arms as he stared at her, hoping she’d crack under his hard gaze.  “Now what the hell are you really doing here?”

“I- I came to talk to Richie” She answered, which wasn’t a total lie.

Stan gave her a bored look.

“Why?” He asked like it was the craziest thing he’d ever heard.  “You and Richie aren’t even friends”

“Yes we are!” She said a little too defensively, and louder than she meant to.  “You and Bev just don’t think so cause you never even gave us a chance to be” She lowered her voice to a hiss.

“Eddie’s pissed that I ruined his groove, but he’s making you one anyways” Richie said as he came back in the room, promptly ending (y/n) and Stan’s argument.

“Thanks,” (y/n) said softly, and glanced to Stan before letting out a short, inaudible sign.  “I’ll go keep him company”

She left the room before either of the boys could say anything, and greeted Eddie in the kitchen.  She took a seat at the breakfast bar while he was laying cheese over slices of bread.

“Hi,” He replied, pressing the top slice of bread down against the sandwich with his spatula.  “What are you doing here? I thought you’d go home.  Or to Bill’s”

“I felt… uh, bad,” (y/n) shrugged.  “And staying home by myself tonight kinda freaked me out”

Eddie’s brows furrowed, but his eyes remained focus on the grilled cheeses.

“Oh really?” He asked, unamused.

“Well, only sorta,” She huffed, leaning her head against her hand.  “How long is it gonna be until everyone makes up?”

“I don’t know, a week?” Eddie shrugged.  “Richie’s just pissed off.  He’ll get over it, and he’ll apologize and things’ll go back to normal”

“Yeah,” (y/n) nodded and stared down at the countertop.  “I don’t want anyone to fight”

Eddie scoffed, looking over at her now and shaking his head.

“They wouldn’t be fighting if you hadn’t fallen through a fucking floor and busted yourself up so bad”

“What does that mean?” She replied.  “And busted myself up? You broke your arm!”

“Sure, but Richie’s not in love with me” Eddie muttered without thinking.  He hoped (y/n) hadn’t caught it, but by the look in her eyes, he knew she had.

“What?” She mumbled, staring at him even though he was trying to avoid her gaze.  “What’d you just say?”

“Nothing, I didn’t mean it, it was a joke,” He stammered out too quickly for (y/n) to really believe him.  “He’s just protective of you, that’s all.  That’s all!”

Eddie was far too panicky for her to believe any of this, and he could tell.  He was a terrible liar.

“He told you this?” She asked softly, and he opened and closed his mouth a few times, unsure of the right thing to do in this awkward, awkward situation.  “Eddie, just tell me”

“Kind of! Yeah…” He said nervously.  “He might have told me that he liked you a lot, like more than a friend and that he was falling in love with you but Stan and Bev always sheltered you away from him and so he was discouraged and decided not to do anything about it.  The protective thing I just fucking figured, you know, seeing as he got in a fight with Bill today over you- that was definitely about you by the way, he was just pissed you got hurt and were so scared-”

“Okay, okay,” (y/n) cut off his rambling so she could process everything he was saying.  “He likes me? He told you that?”

“Yeah, today at the quarry”

“Oh, so you really weren’t fighting” She muttered to herself.

“Fuck yeah we were, he was being a goddamn pussy,” Eddie retorted.  “I told him to make a move.  Mostly cause you look at him all the time-”

“I do not-”

“And then he said that he didn’t want to bother you, and that your friends would hate him if he made a move”

(y/n) frowned, no longer feeling giddy about this development.  Instead, it hurt her, to know that he returned her feelings but had talked himself out of acting on them.  It hurt her to know that her friends had scared him into staying away from her.  It hurt her to know that he was going through the same thing she was.

“Eddie!” Richie hollered, waltzing into the kitchen, “How much fucking longer is it gonna take?”

Eddie began to rant on about how he was the only one of the Losers who knew how to cook something (that wasn’t cereal).  All the while he was yelling at Richie, (y/n) couldn’t tear her eyes off him.

He was standing in the doorway, brows furrowed and lips parted, an offended look, and every once in a while he would scoff at what Eddie was saying.

She laid her head against her palm, just admiring how adorable he looked when he was pretending to be insulted, which was quite often.  He’d changed out of his short ad hawaiian shirt, now just wearing sweatpants and a black tee shirt- he looked so comfy.  (y/n) couldn’t tear her eyes away from him, now that he was in this new light.

“Literally, fuck you, fuck you” Richie grumbled, then walked behind the counter, and grabbed one of the sandwiches right off the stove.

She smiled as he bit right into it, the dumbass.  He tried not to give Eddie the satisfaction of showing how much his mouth burned.  Eddie just rolled his eyes, and went back to the other grilled cheeses.

That was when Richie turned, catching (y/n) in her shameless staring.  He half expected her to look away, like she usually did when he looked at her for too long, but she didn’t.

She just smiled at him, and the corner of his lips quirked up back at her.

“Glad you came over, hon” He told her, and then left the kitchen.

Eddie snorted at how pink (y/n’s) face looked.

“Shut up Eds” She mumbled, and hung her head in her hands. ___

After eating grilled cheeses, everyone was piled into the living room, trying to focus on movies instead of what happened today.  It was harder than they

(y/n) was drawing little red hearts on Eddie’s arm cast.  Greta Keene had signed it with a thick black sharpie, ‘Loser’ scrawled in all caps for anyone to see.  So (y/n) took it upon herself to fix it.  She could tell it embarrassed Eddie, even if he hadn’t admitted it.  So she wrote a ‘V’ where the ‘s’ was, and topped it off with tiny hearts.

“Awe, Eds,” Richie cooed mockingly as he glanced over (y/n’s) artwork.  “Look how cute you are!”

“Fuck off” Eddie grumbled, but (y/n) smiled, and held her hand out to Richie.

“You want some?” She asked, wiggling the red sharpie with her other hand.

I don’t have a cast, Richie thought to himself.  But fuck it, why would I say that.

He didn’t say anything, just reached his arm out towards her.  (y/n) grinned, and switched spots with Eddie on the couch so that she could draw on him.

Her hand held his wrist delicately as she began to draw small hearts over his skin.  Now neither of them could focus on the movie.  (y/n) was intently working on her doodles, and Richie was watching her work on her doodles.

And Stanley was watching both of them.  A slight glare in his eyes as he tried to piece together what the fuck was going on.

“Are you really not gonna draw any dicks?” Richie asked quietly after she’d scribbled about fifteen hearts on his arm.

She giggled and looked up at him, finding his eyes were already on her.

“Would you rather that?” She asked, but he shook his head.  She smiled before moving a little closer to him to continue her drawing.

Considering how their afternoon went, Richie never felt more at peace.  More at ease to just sit.  He was content.  Of course, that was all thanks to (y/n), whose leg was pushed up against his and who’s fingers brushed over his wrist a bit as she held it.

She smelled like fucking strawberries.  

It wasn’t until she’d covered his arm in nearly thirty small red hearts, a few of them colored in, that it hit Stan, that he figured it out, and boy, he couldn’t believe it.  

(y/n) capped her marker, and grinned from her doodles up to Richie, who wore the same dumb smile.  Stan knew that dumb smile, he knew what that meant, he’d known Richie long enough to know that when he pulled that face, heart eyes and all, that he liked her.  And she was looking back at him with the same fucking expression!

“Oh my fucking god!”

His holler made both (y/n) and Richie jump, their gaze tearing away from each other and shooting towards their friend on the recliner, worry and fear replacing the affection in their eyes.

“What?” (y/n) asked, her mind jumping to the worst scenario, thinking that Stanley was having a panic attack.  “What is it?”

Stan looked between his three friends on the couch.  Richie and (y/n) seemed perplexed, but Eddie rolled his eyes.  He’d seen Stan staring at the two, he knew that he was just freaked out.

“Stan?” (y/n) said softly, after Stanley had stared silently at them for a minute.  She got up from the couch, much to Richie’s disliking.  “Are you alright?”

She laid her hand against his shoulder, searching his panicked eyes for some sort of answer.

“I- I just-”

You’re hitting on (y/n) you fucking slut of a boy! He wanted to yell at Richie, wanted to slap him upside his stupid stupid head.

But (y/n) had looked at him the same way, she liked him too, what was he supposed to do about that?

Stan blinked at the worried girl.

You’re hitting on Richie you dumbass take a look at him, you want that? His brain was in overdrive.

“I’ll get you some water” (y/n) decided, and hastily left the living room.

“You-” Stan glared at Richie once (y/n) was gone.  “You whore!”

“Hey-!” Richie started to reply, but Eddie spoke up before either of them could start screaming at each other.

“Both of you, calm the fuck down,” He hissed, and shot his head towards the kitchen, which wasn’t too far.  “She’ll hear you”

“You like her? Are you fucking serious?” Stan growled.  “Do you have any ounce of common sense at all?”

“Why don’t you get off my fucking dick Stan,” Richie replied, giving him the middle finger.  “It’s none of your goddamn business”

“But you do, and she’s my friend so it is my business”

“No it fucking isn’t!” Richie said a little louder than he intended.  “You and Bev and Bill and Ben and Mike- you all try to keep her away from me, like I’m gonna kill her if she’s within five fucking feet!” He was whisper-yelling, hoping that (y/n) couldn’t hear from the kitchen.

“(y/n) really likes Richie,” Eddie explained.  Which only seemed to further Stan’s confusion.

“She does?” Richie asked, voice dropping to a softer tone.

“I put in three ice cubes,” (y/n) walked back into the room, and handed Stan the glass.  “It’s the perfect amount so your water stays cold the whole time…” She trailed off when she noticed everyone was staring at her with the same shocked look.  “Um… what’s going on?”

“I’m going to bed” Stan announced, standing from his seat, and taking the glass from (y/n).  The sound of the ice clinking around being the only sound in the room.

“Okay-”

“Goodnight” He was heading up the stairs before she could make sure he was alright.

“Don’t mind him, he’s just being fucking weird about not talking to Bill” Eddie waved a dismissive hand and rolled his eyes.

“But he-”

“He’s fine” Eddie cut her off, giving her a look.

“Okay,” She sighed, and sat down in the seat Stan had just abandoned.  “Was he mad at me?”

“No!”

“Of course not!”

Eddie and Richie spoke at once, shaking their heads rapidly and taking her by surprise by how quick they were to answer.  She laughed nervously and put her hands up defensively.

“Okay, jeez,” She giggled, and tucked herself into the seat, turning back to watch the movie.  

It was near the end, and she’d really only caught the first ten minutes, so she had no idea what was going on, but that was fine.  She was definitely going to pass out soon, the weight of the day exhausted her.

After the movie ended, she glanced over to see Eddie and Richie had both knocked it.  She wished she’d had her camera, they looked adorable.  Eddie’s head had fallen onto Richie’s shoulder, and Richie was leaning against his head as well.  Too cute, she thought.

Falling asleep hadn’t come easy to her, she was never able to get a good night’s rest when her head was swarming with thoughts and worries.  The events from Neibolt played like a horror movie on a loop in her mind.  It terrorizing her, seemingly whenever it pleased.

It had started at the quarry, making her feel like she was batshit crazy, and then It appeared again this morning in Bill’s garage, and again at Neibolt.  She realized she wasn’t cut out for this.

It was late when she’d gotten up from the seat and headed outside.  She carefully opened the door and crept out, closing it silently behind her.  Sitting on the front step in the cool Derry night felt much better.  The trauma was still there, but at least she could take deep breaths in the fresh air.

She wasn’t sure how long she’d been out there, but when the door opened again, she felt like it was the middle of the night.

“(y/n)?” Richie’s tired voice asked, before he yawned.  “What’re you doing?”

She turned around to look at him, and he could tell she just couldn’t sleep.

“Just getting some fresh air” She said with a weak smile.

As he sat next to her, her eyes trained on the hearts on his arm.

“You okay?” He asked after a few moments of them sitting in silence.

She started to nod, but when she saw the look on his face, the serious one, her mouth betrayed her.

“Not really,” She mumbled.  “I’m worried about our friends”

She pulled her knees to her chest, crossed her arms over them, and laid her head against her arms, still looking at Richie.  He gave her a small reassuring smile.

“They’ll be fine, we’ll be fine,” He told her.  “Today was just a… there was just a lot going on”

She nodded her head a bit, and stared at him for a few seconds longer than necessary.  The slight bruise on his eye already seemed to be doing better, so Bill must not have hit him as hard as she’d thought.

“Does it still hurt?” She asked, nodding to the light blue and purple marking.

“Oh,” Richie’s hand reached up to his eye, like he’d forgotten completely there even was a bruise.  “N-no, no, it doesn’t, I’m fine”

There was a dull ache in his face, but he wasn’t going to bitch about it to her right now.

“Besides, you’ve probably got fuckin’ loads of these- sorry” His voice went from light and quick witted to immediately apologetic.

(y/n) furrowed her brows and lifted her head.

“What are you sorry for?”

“Cussing” Richie shrugged and nodded his head to the side.

“You don’t have to be sorry for that,” She giggled.  “I’m very used to it, it’d be weird if you weren’t”

“I just don’t want to give anyone any more reasons to drag you away from me all the time” Richie admitted, and stared down at the ground.

He noticed that?

(y/n’s) features softened, and she smiled at him a bit, even though he was avoiding eye contact.

“I feel like I never get to spend a goddamn minute with you,” He told her.  “And for once I’d just like to-”

He looked up suddenly, finding her eyes locked on his intently, and a sweet smile on her lips.  That damn cute look made his train of thought derail, and then crash and burn completely.

“You’d just like to what?” She murmured, eyes flickering in between his.

His own gaze trailed downward, and noticed the slight cut on her bottom lip, which she must’ve gotten when she collapsed through the floor at Neibolt.  She leaned forward a bit, brows raised slightly as she waited for him to either make a move or finish his sentence.

“What?” She asked again, impatiently, eagerly.  “Richie, what-?”

“I’d just like to have a moment with you without Stan or Bev or Bill deciding I’m gonna mess this up, I know I’ll mess it up, and I’d just like to do it”

She giggled a bit at his argument, shaking her head at him and looking away for a moment.  But as quickly as her confident had fizzled out, she remembered what Eddie had told her in the kitchen, and she glanced back up at him.

“Well, you have that moment now…” She suggested softly.  “And I think you and I are the only ones in Derry who are awake” She added.

He chuckled, pushing his glasses up on his head to rub the sleep from his eyes.

“Let’s put a hold on messing everything up so soon” He told her when he got his glasses fixed back on his nose.

(y/n’s) lips quirked into half a smile.

“I don’t think you’re going to mess anything up, Richie,” She murmured.  “You’re in your head too much”

“I know,” He said, and gave her a smile.  “But I don’t want to rush anything either,” She frowned at that, but he continued anyways.  “There’s plenty of time to mess it up later.  I’ll take my moment with you as it is now”

Fuck she swore her heart was going to burst out of her chest.

Richie goddamn Tozier was going to make her wait for him to make his move, and she knew all too well that she was just going to have to.

“Alright,” She murmured, looking out at the dark streets.  “Whatever you want, Rich” ___

It had been a week since that night, and still, Richie hadn’t made his move.

(y/n) had spent more time with him in those seven days than she had in the past seven years of knowing him.  Which was sad, but she was too excited to finally hang out with him to care.

She was at his side, everywhere he went.  He taught her to play Street Fighter, mostly so that he had someone to play with him.  She taught him twice how to use chopsticks.  They spent nearly every night together watching some new lame movie that Richie swore she had to see.  (y/n) couldn’t admit they were awful, he was just too excited to share them with her.

It was a nice.

They were at the arcade again, for the third time this week, which wasn’t a surprise.  (y/n) was sipping on a slushie while watching Richie play Street Fighter.  She’d refused to play with him after she beat him once and he didn’t talk to her the whole walk home.

“Come on, one game?” Richie asked, holding one of his own quarters out to her.

“Hm,” She pretended to think about it, chopping around the shaved ice in her cup with her straw.  “No”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.  You gave me the silent treatment over a game! Who does that?”

“I was just jealous that you bested me in battle, that’s all” Richie told her, making her laugh and shake her head.

“Why don’t you keep practicing then,” She said with a bright, fake smile.  “Since you obviously need it”

He rolled his eyes while she laughed at him, turning back to his game.

“You’re goddamn lucky you’re cute, (y/l/n)” He grumbled.

The comment made her blush, but she teased him anyways.

“And why’s that?”

“Because if you weren’t, then I’d be stuck here with Eddie”

She laughed again, and this time he couldn’t hold back his own laughter.

The moment was cut short when someone neither of them expected walked into the arcade.

“W-we have a p-plan,” Bill Denbrough stuttered, looking between the two hopelessly.  “And we n-need your h-help” ___

“Is this really a good idea?” Ben asked, peeking over the opening of the well.

(y/n) looked over as well, her heart plummeting to her stomach at the idea of having to climb down that thing.

“I-it’s the only one we g-got” Bill stuttered back.

One by one, they slid down the rope, and wedged into the tunnel.  Bill, then Stan, then Eddie, and then Richie.  (y/n) was shaking next to Mike, her hand holding his arm in a death grip.

“You’ll be alright,” He told her, taking his hand off of her before she could leave finger shaped bruises.  “I’m right up here, and Richie’s right down there.  You’ve done crazier things than this”

She nodded in silent gratitude at his reassuring words.

But just as she took the rope in her hands, and crouched down to hoist herself over the edge, a threatening voice echoed throughout the house.

“I thought I told you to stay the fuck out of my town!”

Henry.

“Go! Go now!” Mike told (y/n), who was still perched on the edge of the well.

The other Losers were hollering, voices mingling together in echoes throughout the well.  She couldn’t quite tell what they were saying, but she knew they were trying to get her to move as fast as possible.

Henry had run towards Mike, throwing him to the ground and punching him across the face repeatedly.

“Mike!” (y/n) abandoned the rope, much to her friends’ dismay, and ran towards the fighting boys.

It took all her might to shove Henry off of Mike, and her momentary satisfaction was ruined as soon as he grabbed her wrist and threw her to the ground as well.  It wasn’t until then that she saw the switchblade in his hand.

Instinct kicked in as she swept her leg upwards, kicking him as hard as she could manage in the gut, and then swung her other foot between his legs.  This bought her a few seconds to scramble over to Mike, helping him up.

“Go on,” He told her, handing her the rope.  She shook her head, but he shoved it into her hands.  “Hurry, I’ll be right behind you”

He pulled the nail gun out of it’s holster, and (y/n’s) eyes widened, realizing what he was going to do.

“Go”

She didn’t need to be told a third time, throwing on leg over the well, and then the other.

Slowly, she shimmied herself down towards the opening, where Richie was front and center, waiting to help her in.

“Just a little further!” He called out to her.

She would’ve said something back, if her throat wasn’t closed up from her fear.  Hearing Mike and Henry fighting each other off was all her senses could focus on, and she worried that something was going to go terribly wrong.

“(y/n)! Look out!” Mike screamed, and the girl barely had enough time to look up before Henry’s body was crashing down into hers, knocking her off of the rope.

“(y/n)!” Richie’s scream was hair raising as she fell a few feet.

But somehow, her hands snatched the rope again, burning her palms terribly as she cried out.

Someone grabbed her legs, and then her waist, and helped her off of the rope so Mike could come down.  She was pulled into the opening and into a pair of arms.

She could tell by the smell of cigarettes and mint that it was Richie who was embracing her right now.  She’d never been held so tightly before.

She wrapped her arms around his torso and cried into his neck, the near death experience making chills run down her spine.  No one said anything while he held her, and they waited for Mike to come down. ___

When they made their way through the tunnel, Richie’s hand took hold of (y/n’s), and he didn’t dare let go.

Bill had gone off ahead of the rest of them, and the idea that he was out there somewhere by himself while a demonic clown was trying to kill everyone, horrified (y/n).

But finding Beverly floating ten feet in the air was worse than anything her mind could have come up with.

Her free hand clasped over mouth to hold back her shriek.

“Bev” Her voice came out in a whimper, and she pulled away from Richie to race towards the floating girl.  She tried to leap up and grab her ankle, but was just out of reach.

“(y/n), (y/n)!” Richie called, and grabbed her waist before she could keep on jumping.  “(y/n),” He spun her around, making her look up at him.  “Take a breath, it’s alright, we’ll get her down, she’s going to be alright”

Her hands grabbed onto Richie’s arms, making sure he wasn’t going to let go of her anytime soon.

And he didn’t.  While Stan and Ben worked together to pull Beverly down from the air, he kept his arm wound tightly around her waist.

(y/n) gasped involuntarily when Ben reached up and pressed his lips against Beverly’s.  The other boys groaned, and everyone shared an awkward look.  But they still waited eagerly to see what would happen.

When Beverly opened her eyes and took a deep breath, (y/n) nearly doubled over in relief.

“Oh, thank god,” She cried out, and rushed forward to hug the girl tightly.  “I was so fucking worried about you”

The language caught Bev, well, everyone, off guard, but they thought it was best not to mention it.

“I’m okay, really,” Beverly responded as they pulled away.  “Uh- where’s Bill?”

“We’re not totally sure…” Stan trailed off awkwardly.  “But we’re gonna find him!” He added before Beverly could start yelling.

With that, the group took off in search of their leader.

(y/n) caught up to Richie, and took his hand again, interlocking their fingers.

He looked down at her, squeezing her hand in his, and the look on her face made his heart sink.

“Please promise me that you’re not going to die”

He stopped walking, casting a glance over his shoulder to make sure they wouldn’t lose sight of their friends.

“No one’s dying,” He told her, not-so-convincingly.  “But, you know, just in case…”

She didn’t get the chance to ask what he meant, because in one quick motion, he let go of her hand, cupped her cheeks, and leaned over a bit to kiss her.  He’d done it so quickly, she barely had time to react.

That didn’t stop her from kissing him back, though.

Richie’s lips were much softer than she would’ve thought they’d be.  She hoped they made it out of this alive so that she could kiss him again.

It wasn’t until they parted that (y/n) realized she was standing on her tiptoes, as she slowly stood back down flat on her feet.  She bit her lip to keep from grinning to widely up at him.

“Yeah,” She hummed, and nodded her head slightly.  “Just in case” She repeated.

Richie grinned back at her, nodding his head before taking her hand again and tugging her with him back towards the others.  Her heart was pounding, with fear, with excitement, it was a big day.

Luckily they found Bill, not so luckily, he was being put in a chokehold by Pennywise.

“Holy fuck” Eddie muttered when they’d arrived on the scene.

“I’ll take you, I’ll take all of you,” It threatened, and (y/n) shuffled closer to Richie when it’s horrifying orange eyes.  “Or… Just him,” He stroked a white gloved hand over Bill’s face.  “And you can all leave”

“G-go” Bill stuttered out.  Always the hero.

“You’ve ruined our summer Bill,” Richie muttered, walking towards him a bit.  “It’s your fault,”

(y/n’s) heart dropped, and she winced as Richie said something so cruel when their friend’s life is in danger.

“You punched me in the face,” The boy continued.  “You made me walk through shitty water- you brought me to a fucking crackhouse,” He shook his head, before reaching for something inside of the mountain of junk.  “And now?” He looked down at the bat in his hands, a smug smirk on his face.  “I’m gonna have to kill this fucking clown”

Pennywise threw Bill to the side like a piece of meat, lunging towards Richie.

“Welcome to the Loser’s Club, asshole!”

With a crack Richie swung the bat against Pennywise’s head, thus sparking the other Loser’s to find objects to beat up the clown with.  Even (y/n) found a pipe and took a few hits.

That is, until It shapeshifted into Patrick Hockstetter, and suddenly all sense of confidence dissipated, and her fear returned, as she was knocked back onto the ground.  Her pipe fell from her hand, not that it mattered, she couldn’t summon the courage to fight back.

“What’s wrong sweet girl?” It even sounded like Patrick.  “You’re not still scared of me baby, are you?”

“Fuck off!”

The swing of Richie’s bat was a blur, but Patrick/It’s head spun to the side with a serious splintering noise that had to be It’s neck breaking.  It growled, face slowly morphing out of Patrick’s, and back into the demented clown face.

(y/n) barely processed Richie’s arms hooking under hers, and pulling her up to her feet.

“You alright?”

“We really have to stop meeting like this,” She huffed, and Richie chuckled, shaking his head.  “Richie- holy shit!”

Her moment was cut short when Beverly shoved an entire beam down It’s throat.

The others looked on with a mixture of horror and amazement, as blood spilled in thick streams up towards the air.

It crawled backwards, until it came to a hole in the ground that no one was sure had an end.  The Losers didn’t tear their eyes away as It grinned at them, only mumbling one word, before he disappeared.

“Fear” ___

“So, babe,” Richie grinned at (y/n) as he plopped down next to her on his couch.  “What would you like to address first, that thing with Patrick, or our undeniable sexual tension-?”

“Oh my god,” She giggled, shaking her head.  “No, neither”

It had been a few days since the fight in the sewers.  The Losers took some time both together and apart, trying to figure out how to cope, and how to stop their memories from deteriorating.  Richie had invited (y/n) over to hang out.

Just (y/n).  Which was new, but definitely welcomed.

“Too bad, we’re doin’ both, I was just being polite and letting you choose”

She gave him a look, silently asking him to leave it alone.  But he just raised his brows and wore half a smile.

“(y/n/n), I told you, I don’t want to mess this up,” He told her softly.  “So if we’re going to do this right, you’ve gotta be honest with me”

Despite not wanting to confess to Richie her deadly fear of Patrick Hockstetter, she couldn’t help but smile back at him.  He really did surprise her with how sweet he was.

“You’re right,” She mumbled, and looked down at her lap for a moment.  “Yeah, my uh… my fear was Patrick,” She told him, anxiously meeting his eyes.  “He’s been messing with me for years now, and It figured that out…” She shrugged her shoulders.

Richie’s mouth was open, like he was trying, or wanted to say something, but nothing was coming to mind.

“He did the same thing with everyone else, right?” (y/n) asked.  “Figured out their fear and used it against them, I’m no different-”

“Except you are,” He cut her off, staring at her seriously, so she knew he meant it.  “I- I had no idea that Cockstetter was- that he-” He huffed defeatedly, and shook his head.  “(y/n/n), I would’ve-”

(y/n) leaned forward then, placing her palm against his jaw and abruptly ended his talking, which was a difficult thing to do, for most.

“Richie,” She said his name breathlessly, and he fell in love with her all over again in a matter of seconds.  “You’re so stupid.  I like you so much it hurts”

He pulled a face at the first half of her statement, but still smiled.

“I like you too,” He murmured back.  “And I’m not completely stupid, by the way.  Just, like, sixty percent”

She giggled again, and shook her head at him.

“Anything else you want to mess up?” She asked, cocking her head to the side a bit.

“Just the sheets when I-”

“Beep beep, Richie” She mumbled, leaning in and kissing him, full on the mouth.

He smiled against her lips, before wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her closer to him.  He’d only kissed her twice, but that was enough to know that he wanted to do it forever.

“By the way,” She breathed when she pulled away from him.  “If you take me to the arcade for our first date, I will beat you at Street Fighter”

He grinned back at her, cupping her face in his hands.

“You’re the fucking best” He said, making her smile before he leaned in and kissed her again.

“It’s about time you noticed” She giggled against his lips.

“Okay, now for something serious”

“Fine,” (y/n) sighed.  “What is it”

“Rock paper scissors for who has to tell the others?”

She pulled a face, suggesting maybe they shouldn’t say anything at all.

“Okay, that’s fair” She agreed after Richie didn’t give in.

After he lost all three rounds, they decided they’d make it ‘officially official’ as Richie so eagerly called it.  She rode with him on the back of his bike to meet everyone at the quarry.

All that was left to do now was live happily ever after.

___

(a/n): i don’t feel great about this, but like i said, it was written out of nowhere

xoxo ~ jordie

[redhawtriot]

Could I possibly have a scenario with a fem s/o who is constantly high but yet Bakugou can’t help but fall in love :) thanks in advance!

Anonymous- “Can I pls get first date with bakugo and reader goes to pay for her half and bakugo shits her down with some tsundere ass response like “I just know if you pay for this you’re gonna complain you dont have money to buy other shit.”

Tip Jar ☕- Not expected but always appreciated💞

I mashed these two request together!

Enjoy the fluff while it last cuz it’s finna get ANGSTY in this bitch!

HnM💕

How Stop liking a Stoner (Bakugou x Reader)

Bakugou absolutely hated you. Of course he didn’t get along with most people that he met, but the way that he despised you felt different  from others somehow. 

It all began the day that the two of you met. You had walked into class with a very distinct odor. You considered yourself to be a professional at hiding your more delinquent lifestyle; however, masked away under the layers of fruity and sweet perfumes that you had coated yourself in, was a slight, but very recognizable, dank and smokey smell.

You also had certain mannerisms that could alert even the purest of minds to your…ahem… extra-curricular actives.

Now, you weren’t a complete noob. You could handle the high well enough that you weren’t overly quiet, or loud, but you did often find yourself in situations that could expose your habits: such as when Mina asked you to feel how soft a furry piece of her hero costume was, and you ended up petting it for a few uncomfortable minutes before someone called you out, snapping you out of your trance.

Bakugou, being the ever perceptive grump that he was, noticed any of these sorts of slip ups and drew up the conclusion that you were indeed a stoner.   

But that wasn’t even what he could bring himself to hate about you. No, it was the way that you made him feel whenever you were around that made him wholy despise you. 

When you stupidly giggled at every slight occurrence, he could only replay the sound in his head over and over. Disgusting. When you absentmindedly swayed your body in a slight dance during lectures he couldn’t help but to watch you with a terrifyingly light feeling in his chest. Fucking gross. Even as you sat chomping on the insane mountain of snacks that you brought to class, he couldn’t fight the urge to steal glances at the little smile that was perpetually plastered onto your face. Absolutely adorable. WAIT? WHAT THE FUCK?! 

God, he couldn’t stand your ass.

The furious blond found himself sitting at his desk, glaring at his laptop. He sat in thought for a moment before violently popping his knuckles and leaning into the search engine in front of him, allowing his fingers get to work.

Is marijuana bad for you? 

Bakugou scrolled along the first page and found many differing views on the subject, but most scientific articles and studies mostly said the same things: “maybe”, “it depends”, and “we don’t know.” He groaned in frustration, before trying another phrasing of his question,

Can smoking have long term effects? 

The teen was surprised by the overwhelming amount data that appeared, before realizing that they were mostly referencing to cigarettes and cigars. He growled and angrily smashed his fingers against his keyboard to correct his question.

Can smoking weed have long term effects?

As he eyeballed his screen he was once again disappointed by very vague and unclear answers. He slammed a fist onto his laptop in frustration. How the hell could you put that shit into your body without knowing what it would do to you later?! 

Wait. A better, more pressing question shoved itself into his mind.

WHY THE HELL DID HE CARE SO DAMN MUCH ABOUT WHAT YOU WERE DOING?!

Bakugou groaned in frustration and roughly snatched a fist full of his hair, as if he were trying to rip you clean out of his mind. He knew for a fact that mind-altering wasn’t your damn quirk. So why the hell does he give a fuck about you? You weren’t even around him, yet he found himself having his thoughts wander to your well being. It pissed him off. 

Bakugou once more smacked his fingers against his keyboard as he typed one final question,

How to stop liking someone?

As soon as he saw the words flash across his screen, it was like the weight of the entire situation finally cracked something inside of him. Shit. He did like you. The boy suddenly slammed his laptop shut and threw it away from him like it had suddenly disgusted him.

He then decided that he was going to pretend like the last hour of his life just didn’t happen. Yeah he was gonna “control, alt, delete” the fuck out of every thought he just had. 

God dammit, he didn’t have time to dwell on crushes if he was going to be the number one hero! That stupid, delinquent girl wasn’t going to get any more of his time or thoughts!!

But.

It seemed like fate had something else planned as you hurriedly walked to your classroom, 1-A, the next morning. You absolutely couldn’t risk being late today. You hadn’t had enough time to grab your eye drops that morning and Aizawa would certainly notice your altered state if attention was drawn to you. 

The hallway ahead of you moved in choppy frames before you finally whipped a turn to enter the door of your classroom. As soon as you turned into the class, you were slapped with a warm sturdy object, sending you flying back onto your butt.

Bakugou immediately thrashed his body around to confront whatever idiot just knocked into him, “HEY WATCH WHERE YOU’RE…” he trailed off as he recognized your figure. Your lunch box that you had been holding had spilled its contents all over you, but the dirty sight of you was somehow still enough to make his heart throb, “…going.” he finally finished.

“Sorry, Bakugou,” you apologized as you rubbed the side your your head, trying to stabilize your whirling mind, “Oh, man! My food!” you sadly exclaimed as you recognized the pathetic mess of snacks and small meals you had prepped for your day all over the floor and yourself.

The sight of your frown in contrast to your usual happiness gave Bakugou’s chest a twinge of pain. He growled at the emotion as he glared at you on the ground, “Well, maybe you should get your head out of the damn clouds and watch where you are going!” he yelled before stiffly turning on his heel and heading to his seat. 

You blinked in surprise at his retreating figure. Well, you hadn’t exactly expected him to apologize or help you or anything, but you also didn’t expect to see the blush that creeped across his face before he stormed off. 

Huh.

You cleaned yourself up easily enough. Honestly, the situation and Bakugou’s subsequent outburst had helped you make it through the day without getting suspended, drug tested or expelled. By the time you cleaned yourself up and made it back to the classroom, your eyes had pretty much returned to their normal state. 

Today might not be so bad after all!

GrrrrRRRrrRRrrr, your stomach screeched, causing almost all of your classmates to whip their heads toward you in surprise. 

Shit…

You hurriedly grabbed your stomach with a nervous laugh, trying to console the despairing little monster; however, you still spent the rest of the school day with your tummy loudly yelling at you. Watching everyone eat during lunch was absolute torture as your stomach cursed at you for being so damn clumsy. You honestly could have died. 

Death by munchies.

However, it seems as if the cannabis lords took pity on you that day and you actually made it through your last class. You were the first one out of their desk as you rushed out of the classroom and down the hall— the thought of food on your mind, but suddenly you felt a heavy hand snatch your wrist,

“Hey, idiot!” When you looked back your eyebrows shot straight up at the sight of Bakugou’s hardened expression, “Let’s go grab some food.”

Um… hWhat? The suggestion completely threw you off balance. You shook your head as if the vibrations that just came in through your ear needed some readjusting,  “Like… together?” you tilted your head in shock. You’ve never seen Bakugou willingly hang with anyone else besides Kirishima, let alone initiate an event with them!

Bakugou fumed at your questioning appearance, “Are you really that stupid!? I could hear your stomach growling from across the classroom!!”

You giggled at yourself in embarrassment, not quite sure of what else you could do in the moment, “…Why do you care?” you laughed.

Your laughed sent a searing wave of heat to his face. You’d… never directed this display of happiness toward him before, and for some reason it made him feel extremely hot,

“I don’t!” he yelled as he tried to fight the warmth away, “I just knocked your food down earlier and… I don’t want to owe you anything,” he suddenly noticed that he was still clinging to your hand. The heat in his face doubled as he snatched his hand away from yours, “So where do you wanna go? I am not taking no for an answer,” he began as he walked away from U.A.’s campus with a rigid nod for you to follow him. 

You paused for a moment. Is this real? 

A large smile began spreading itself across your face– the cannabis lords once gain raining mercy down upon you, “Maybe a… Mcdonalds!” you happily suggested as you skipped into a light jog ran to catch up with him.

“Mc.. donalds?” Bakugou threw you an expression that resided in an area between horrified and disgusted for a moment before correcting himself back into his comfortable anger, looking at the ground as the two of you walked.

“Yeah, like the clown place!” you added. Bakugou growled at your answer. He wasn’t a fucking idiot he knew what a damn McDonald’s was. You laughed at his response as you continued, “You’re not scared of clowns are you, tough guy?” you teased.

“Fuck you,” he simply huffed, refusing to even entertain your accusations. 

“Wow, on the first date?” you boldly retorted with a stifled laugh, causing him to falter in his steps for a moment. He snapped himself out of whatever stupid emotion he felt at your words, 

“IT’S NOT A DAMN DATE!” he roared, causing you to simply shrug, a pleased smile on your face as you continued to walk without him. 

“Where are you going, you idiot?! There is a Mcdonald’s right there!” he angrily gestured to the golden arches the other direction of where you were headed. 

“I like the one by my house better,” you explained, “It had a gas station attached to it, so I can grab some snacks on the way out.”

….

G-gas Station McDonald’s….? Bakugou could have thrown up right then and there. 

“DISGUSTING!” the blond screeched, “I am not walking all the way over there just to walk back to the dorm! Are you an idiot?!”

Alright. Who the fuck did this to him? Made him crush on a complete loser?! Cupid? God?! He was gonna fight whoever the fuck it was! 

“Fineeee,” you laughed and the two of you walked over to the inferior McDonalds. Bakugous eyes widened in repulsion as you ordered both a Big-Mac meal and a twenty piece chicken nugget with a dozen cookies.

As soon as you happily reached out to give the cashier your money, he swatted your hand away and shoved his own cash at the associates face, “No, take mine.” he harshly ordered. The employee shakily agreed and accepted his money. 

You threw him a confused glance but before you could even open your mouth to question him, he spoke up, “I just know that if you pay for this, you’re gonna complain that you don’t have money to buy other shit,” he explained, a faint blush creeping onto his cheeks. 

You noticed this red tint, but decided to tease him instead of pointing it out, “Yeah, like gas,” you nodded with a sly smile. 

“Gas? You’re fifteen and don’t have a damn car, you idiot,” He argued, but the boy immediately paused as soon as he saw the suggestive expression that you held on your face. Things finally clicked as soon as you wiggled your eyebrows towards him. Gas… you meant weed. He angrily snatched the two soda cups that the cashier was extending out as he loudly yelled at you,  “FUCK! YOU MAKE IT SO DAMN HARD TO BE NICE TO YOU, YOU KNOW THAT?!” He screamed as you cracked up at his uncharacteristically slow uptake.

The two of you had decided to eat at a booth near a window. You found yourself being really surprised at the quality of this McDonald’s chairs. Bakugou loudly chastised you for gawking at the chairs like some freak before the two of you promptly began eating your food. 

It was mostly quiet between the two of you as the textures of the meal performed on your sensitive tongue until Bakugou finally spoke up, “Why do you put that nasty shit into your body?”

“Uh,” Your eyes danced away for a split second, “McDonalds?” your faced crinkled in confusion.

“No, you dumbass!” Bakugou fought the urge to facepalm, “marijuana!” he angrily corrected.

Oh… you felt yourself deflate for a moment, as the question absorbed into your mind. You suddenly let out a giggle, “I don’t know. It makes me feel good, I guess.” Bakugou had to fight another blush at the sight of you adorably shrugging your shoulders. 

“That’s a stupid answer. You can’t feel good on your own?”

You tilted your head as you thought about it for a moment. Of course, you could feel good on your own. Just take a look at you! You weren’t even very high anymore, yet you were still on cloud nine right now for some reason, “Well… I feel good right now with you.”

That did it. His adrenaline flared up in an instant. Bakugou couldn’t even come up with fluid words as a series of death threats and curses instinctively flooded to the forefront of his mind,  “S-shut up.”

You giggled at his loss for words before letting the conversation die again. The two of you once again found yourselves in silence as you sat with a smile on your face.

This time, it was you who broke the silence, “Thank you, for hanging out with me today. I really appreciate it.”

“Whatever, loser. Don’t get used to it,” he huffed, angrily stuffing a few fries into his mouth. 

“So…. there’s not a second date ahead?”

“I didn’t say that,” he grumbled, snatching his glare away from you and out of the restaurant window. 

So it was a date. A huge smile once again spread across your face for the millionth time that evening. You happily plopped another fry into your mouth at the sight of him blushing once more. 

[avauntus]

2020 favs: (short) fic recs

I am stealing this idea from @macgyver-sheriff, who has no clue who I am, but whose post I saw go across my dash. Thank you! 👋

Would you like some recs for the holiday season? - I too would like to share love for my favorite things I read that were written this year! <3

I’m going to do this in two parts - the short fics (10k or less, generally one-shot), and another post for the long or series fics I loved this year (it’s 2020, I figure we can use too much of a good thing?)

( @staidwaters - I’m ‘disqualifying’ your works because I’m biased, sorry! Look away! Unless you want recs!) 

"Congratulations, Get Rich" (9,238 words) by Attila (The Untamed - modern AU)

Tomorrow is Chinese New Year, which means Wei Wuxian has to get all of his bad decisions out of the way tonight.

Lan Wangji, Lan Xichen, Jiang Cheng, Mianmian are all so screamingly perfect as modern versions of themselves in this, and it is KNOCK DOWN HILLARIOUS. Wei Wuxian is just a screaming queer disaster (affectionate) - as he should be.

Excerpt:

After a long beat, Lan Xichen sinks gracelessly into the chair Lan Wangji had been sitting in earlier. “I just want to be absolutely clear,” he says delicately, “that you are currently under the impression that my brother has no romantic feelings for you. That is what you’re saying to me right now, yes?”

“Yes?” Wei Wuxian says, feeling desperately confused. “Obviously? Why?”

“Because at least one of you is very stupid, and I’m trying to figure out who,” Lan Xichen tells him, sounding distracted. It’s the rudest thing Wei Wuxian has ever heard him say, and his mouth drops open slightly.

“caved to the careless” (6,708 words) by ilgaksu (The Untamed/MDZS - Song Lan/Xiao Xingchen)

Love is a choice you make - like this, and this, and this.

Have you ever read a writer whose work is so distinctly itself that you can feel yourself slipping in time even as you keep going? That’s not very articulate, but it’s the best way I can describe everything of ilgaksu’s I’ve read. Their fics are the same emotional register as having the breath knocked out of you after a fall. This was the first one I read, and I think it ends well-- with what Song Lan and Xiao Xingchen find along the path-- but it’s still heavy. Discussions of canon-compliant character death and grief/mourning here.

Excerpt:

He pauses. Until this very moment, he was unsure who to ask for. He has heard the rumours of the Yiling Patriarch’s ongoing residence here, about Zewu-jun’s seclusion: he’s dead, but even the dead are not free from gossip. But he remembers a courtyard, nearly two decades ago, and the weight of eyes some might have called angry in their intensity. He remembers those same eyes, and how for the wear of the intervening years, they had kept the same essence: longing, yearning, a kind of small unspoken grief.

Song Lan had a dream once. A dream of a sect, bound not by blood, but by a shared belief in the right path. So many things are only an inheritance: shame is one of them.  

Love is a choice. Love is a choice, and you choose until you can’t.

“I am here,” he decides, carving the words into the dirt, every stroke of every character resolute, “To meet with Hanguang-jun. Please show this one the way to go.”  

“Green River Running” (8,169 words) by @rain-hat (Love in the Moonlight - post-canon AU)

5+1: Kim Byeong-yeon returns to the land of the living.

I skimmed through Love in the Moonlight during my quarantine summer (distinguishable from my “quarantine spring” or “quarantine fall” only by fireworks), and immediately upon finishing, thought: “Psht, they killed off their best character.” And then, something happened that never happens -- I went on ao3 and found the exact thing I was looking for, written far  better than I could have imagined. Kim Byeong-yeon is such a quiet yet powerfully subversive presence and the progression here is so masterfully done. This is true of all of rainhat’s work’s I’ve read, but this is a fine example-- I really treasure the warm humanism of them.

Excerpt:

People needed helping hands even more than they needed sympathetic ears, though. Over the last year, Hong Gyeong-rae and Byeong-yeon had built houses and planted crops side by side; negotiating with moneylenders here, helping small-folk secure their stores against bandits there. There was nothing courtly about Byeong-yeon’s capacity for labour, or his expectation of reward. Wherever he went, he worked from dawn to dusk, ate the food he was given, and slept under a roof if he was offered one.

It suited him, Hong Gyeong-rae thought, even though there was something outlandish about his gentle speech and palace manners in the midst of it all. But to behave in any other way would be untrue to his upbringing; nor was he the sort of man to whom it would occur to try. And after all, most people liked to be treated with courtesy; it did not come across as mockery from this solemn, severely dressed young man, who seemed to find no task too big or too small. Hong Gyeong-rae had seen him argue tax law with local councillors and stand up to highwaymen armed with nothing but a knife and staff. But he watched cooking pots for women who had to run to the fields to tide over the day’s labour, too; he wrote letters for them, and tolerated their fractious children and spoon-fed their bedridden elders, if that was what was called for.

“The Veritable Records of King Taejo: Year 2, Entry 208“ (9,857 words) by @sadviper (My Country: the New Age - Nam Seon-ho & Hwang Sung-rok slice-of-life)

Hwang Sung-rok eats his way to the bottom of a real estate scam, and Seon-ho and Yeon help (a little).

No one is out here doing it like SadViper. This is technically part of a series, but they can all be read separately. I did not realize I needed to see more of Nam Seon-ho in all his “type-A government official glory” until Viper started sketching him out for us, and as a bonus, we get to see Yeon, and Sung-rok as the world’s surliest caretaker (but don’t call him that). I have an authorial fallacy where I always think stories have to have some grand “plot” -- a “Maltese Falcon” to pull the reader along-- the genius of Viper’s work is she shows us exactly how interesting and important the day-by-day tiny choices and connections we make are, with an impeccable background of historical research to ground you in the setting.

Excerpt:

Nam Seon-ho was his master now. He was a strange one. He was a traitor, for helping the escaped Liaodong soldiers, but not, because he managed to wiggle his way back into Yi Seong-gye’s favor and was now a sixth-ranked inspector with the privilege of having personal audiences with the King. He was temperamental and belligerent from being the son of a slave mother and a lifetime subject of Lord Nam’s fantastic parenting philosophy. He was afflicted with perpetual guilt. And he was also one of the hardest working and most desperate people Sung-rok had ever known.

It was a terrible combination. He was not merely a disaster waiting to happen, but a disaster perambulating on two legs at the edge of a chasm. If Sung-rok intended to stay in service for long, he needed to find a way to cool down some of Seon-ho’s intensity, even though admittedly, it was what drew him to Seon-ho in the first place.

Thoughts like these plagued Sung-rok for a while. It was one thing to know a person; it was quite another thing to try to change them.

“Orison” (4,975 words) by @gravelghosts​ (aeli_kindara) (Supernatural 15x18 coda)

Cas says, I love you.

So! This rips my heart out, every time. All the times Dean imagines himself together with Cas...and then he imagines himself, if not happy, then thriving.

Jack: “What is the point...if everyone I care about is going to leave?”

Castiel: “The point is that they were here at all and you got to know them, you... When they're gone, it will hurt, but that hurt will remind you of how much you loved them.”

Excerpt:

The thing Dean tries to do is: listen.

Happiness isn’t in the having. It’s in just — being. It’s in just saying it, Cas tells him, and Dean’s whole heart is screaming, No, but he shuts his mouth. He listens. He listens like his life fucking depends on it, which it does, in more ways than one.

“Sky Full of Song” (6,632 words) by @drivingsideways (Supernatural, finale 15x20 fix-it, Dean/Cas)

Or: The One in which Cas ghosted Dean.

Look. Look. If Cas(tiel) can yank Dean Winchester out of Hell, celestial-scream at him not once but twice, burn out a woman’s eyes like an utter clown before thinking “Huh, an Earthly vessel, guess that’s not just bullshit, then,” and when they finally work it out, Dean greets them with a knife to the chest and THEN they’ll spend twelve years misunderstanding each other and bickering, you had better believe these two are going to be disasters even in Heaven. Drivingsideways gives us all of that dynamic, with the found family of Jack and Mary as facilitators, and the happy resolution, which of course includes a true form “roughly the size of your Chrysler Building.” <3

Excerpt:

The thing is, Castiel doesn’t want Dean to feel obligated.

Dean has a streak of self-sacrifice that's as wide as the Caspian Sea, and Castiel doesn't want to be any more of a chore or obligation than they have been to Dean for all the long years of their—brotherhood.

Castiel had shocked Dean, to the core of him, with their confession, and Castiel had seen the swirling confusion, the fear, the panic, the shit what do I say, what do I do—how do I stop him—

So, no, Castiel would not be paying a visit anytime soon.

Of course, if Dean evinced an interest in meeting them, then Castiel would not stay away.

Castiel isn't that cruel.

(They have, on occasion, been exactly that cruel, but they are trying to outgrow it.)

Dean is still their friend.

Dean knows how to reach them, if he wants to.

(see? disasters. haha)

“The Rough” (3,267 words) by anactoria (Supernatural, finale -15x20- ‘fix-it’)

 Heaven can absolutely fucking wait.

Rec’ed for the concept more than the style (this is dialogue-heavy, as a lot of 15x20 fix-its tend towards), but I *love* this course-correction: After kicking around Heaven, Dean and Cas return to Earth to take their place as urban legends among the hunter community. Just for a while.

Excerpt:

But it isn’t life. That’s the thing. It’s awesome, but it isn’t life; life’s a hard, painful, infuriating mess, and Dean only got halfway through his own, and he feels cheated. For all he held it together for Sammy at the end, for all he tried to take Cas’s big moment-of-happiness speech on board, he feels cheated.

There’s supposed to be peace at the end. When you’re done.

Dean wasn’t done.

[lifesucksheres20bucks]

Reddie in the hammock 🥺

The Hammock

After what seemed like an unfinishable summer, the losers finally got a little break in their clown killing activities. Ben wanted to surprise his friends with a getaway, a place no one could reach them, not pennywise, not bowers, not anyone. Thats when he built the clubhouse. Loser’s members only! He was so proud of it and he finally got to show the losers, they were all so grateful to have a safe heaven from the outside world. They had games, comic books and a hammock. That hammock had been the subject to a couple of fights between Richie and Eddie. The smaller boy claimed that the losers agreed to 10min in the hammock per turn, however Richie claimed he never agreed to those terms.

One day, while Richie was lying in the hammock, he heard Eddie’s alarm go off. Thinking nothing of it, Richie went back to reading his comic book.

“Hey fucker! Your time in the hammock is up! It’s my turn now, get out!” Eddie yelled

Richie looked up from his comic, annoyed. “I never agreed to that Eds, I’m not moving.” He looked back down at his comic.

“Fucking hell Richie, you really don’t know how to share a place with other people huh? You’re so annoying, c’mon get up, it’s my turn!” Eddie said getting closer to Richie, his voice slightly higher in pitch.

“No.”

“UGH! You know what, fuck you I’m getting in that hammock!” Eddie said as he lightly threw himself on the hammock.

“Oh my god, Eddie! What are you doing, were going to fucking fall!” Richie shouted

“Good, fucking fall you little shit. Im staying in the hammock.” Eddie spat

“Fine!” Richie said as he started reading his comic again.

Eddie looked at Richie. He had expected more of a fight, he was ready for more of a fight. But that little shit was reading his stupid comic. He doesn't know why but he needed Richie to pay attention to him. Their bickering wasn't over.

Suddenly, Richie feels a foot hit him in the face. He knows Eddie is trying to get a rise out of him and he could not let him win. So instead, he keeps reading his comic, but he put his hand on Eddie’s leg and squeezed it, trying to make him stop. The fact that Richie hadn't looked up, only aggravated Eddie even more. He then proceeded to slip his foot under Richie’s glasses and flicked them half way across the room.

Richie just sighed, he figured this was his new normal now.

A couple of months after that summer. Eddie was at home pouring himself a glass of hot cocoa, when suddenly the phone starts ringing. He looked at the time. 9:47 pm, why would anyone be calling at this time?

“Kaspbrak residence” Eddie answered

“Eds, its me, meet me at the clubhouse in an half an hour.” Richie mumbled

“What? I can’t just-“ the line went dead.

Shit, Eddie thought. He was going to have to sneak out. Richie sounded serious and he couldn't let him down.

He went creeped up the stairs and slightly opened the door to his mother’s bedroom.

“Goodnight mommy, I’m off to bed!” Eddie said

“Who was on the phone?” She said with a concerned look.

“Oh it was Bill, he called to remind me to bring his book back.” Eddie lied

“Okay Eddie bear, goodnight.”

He quickly closed the door and headed for his room. He changed into sweatpants and a sweater and packed his fanny pack, ready for any situation. He then proceeded to slowly climb out his window and head towards the clubhouse, following little strings of tape Ben had left on trees, so the other losers wouldn't get lost. Once he got there, he could see a faint light coming from the ground. He opened the hatch and went down, slightly terrified of what awaited him. What he wasn't expecting to see was the club house illuminated with Christmas lights and Richie sitting in a sleeping bag on the hammock.

“Hiya Eds, took you long enough”. Richie let out a shaky laugh

Eddie knew something was wrong, the other boy’s tone of voice wasn't as smooth and his eyes were almost lifeless, compared to his normal, bright eyes. He quickly rushed over to his side.

“What’s wrong Richie” Eddie started looking all over, touching his arm, leg, cheek, basically looking for any sign of injury. “Are you okay, why are you crying?” Eddie’s voice was shaking.

Richie grabbed the smaller boy’s hands and held then tightly on his leg. “Im not hurt Eds, well not physically. I just got into a fight with my parents.”

“What happened” Eddie asked, unconsciously rubbing his thumb over Richie’s hand.

“Ever since last summer, I barely sleep and whenever I manage to fall asleep, I have nightmares about the stupid clown. My parents yelled at me because my grades have been going down and they want to know why. But what am I going to them tell? “Oh yeah ma, I’m sorry about that, it’s just a murderous clown tried to kill me and my friends and I haven’t been able to sleep because I’m terrified he’s going to come back and kill them.” So I played dumb and told them I didn’t know why, so they started yelling at me and i couldn't bear staying there so I called you.”

“Why me?” Eddie whispered

“Because you’re my Eddie Spaghetti!” Richie said while pinching his cheeks.

“ So what were just going to sleep on the floor?”

“No, in the hammock. You know we can both fit.” He said with a small grin.

“Okay..”

For some reason, when Richie said those words, Eddie’s heart skipped a beat. He ignored it and climbed into the hammock.

“I thought maybe you could put you head near mine. I brought some new comic books we could read together...” Richie trailed off.

“Hmm okay” Eddie changed positions and nudged himself near Richie. The boy’s had never been this close but they both felt like it was something that had needed to happen. Like they were both safe.

After reading comics for an hour or so, Richie yawned. “ Wow Eds, didn't think i would ever say this again, but I think I’m going to go sleep now.”

“Oh that’s good Richie, yeah we should just go to sleep.” Eddie started panicking, did he have to go back to their original position, on opposites sides? But before be could move, he felt arms wrap around him.

“Goodnight Eds.”

“Hmm, goodnight ‘Chee”

They both snuggled under one small sleeping bag, cuddling. Eddie head resting on Richie’s chest, falling asleep to the faint beat of his heart.

That was the first of many nights spent at the clubhouse for Richie and Eddie.

They came almost every night until their graduation, none of the other losers knew (even though, most of them suspected). It’s where they came to escape their parents, where they first confessed their love for each other (Eddie had said it first in a fit of rage against the taller boy (not exactly the way he planned it but hey, it all worked out)), where they shared their first kiss (and many other first...) it became their home. It was the place where they felt safest, where they could be themselves without having people judge their love. An escape for everyday life. Their love is built into the walls and they both know that without the clubhouse and that stupid hammock, they would not share the love they have for one another today.

SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG! BUT HERE IT IS I HOPE YOU GUYS ENJOY IT. SO MANY OF YOU LIKE MY ORIGINAL POST SO I HOPE YOU ENJOY THE REAL DEAL!

Perm Tag list: @eddiefuckinkaspbrak , @thepurplepanther , @topsyturvytabby, @callmechee @thoughtfullyyoungduck

tag list: @snapmyneckandcallmeloki @lostboyspidey @tyrus-is-everything

[joaquinfeed]

Snuggle Buddy (Arthur Fleck x Fem!Reader)

Prompt: Reader works as a professional cuddler at SnuggleBuddy. Arthur utilizes her service.  Also, for the sake of the story, Penny Fleck has already passed in this.

Warnings: Cursing, implied anxiety, descriptions of bad coping mechanisms (Arthur banging his head against the wall)…I think that’s it?

Word Count: Around 6,000. I know it’s a doozy. 

Arthur was nervous. His palms were sweating slightly, his heart rate was uneven, and his leg hasn’t stopped moving for the last twenty minutes that he has been sitting. His eyes trailed over the small print on the business card— “SnuggleBuddy.”

Arthur thinks back to early that day; he was at Ha-Ha’s getting ready for his usual shift when one of the guys—Randall— took a jab at his love life.

“Just in case you need to touch someone other than yourself, Art,” Randall laughed, handing him the card.

Although Randall’s comment bothered Arthur, he wasn’t entirely wrong. He hasn’t experienced human touch—real, genuine human touch—for a very long time. Arthur couldn’t even think of a moment when someone had given him a hug, or a kiss, or wrapped their arms around him. Not a single soul besides his mother dared to understand him in an intimate way.

As soon as his legs allowed it, he walked over to the phone and carefully poked in the number on the card.

“Hello, this is Pete from SnuggleBuddy. Are you looking for a cuddler, or are you looking to become one?”

Arthur faltered. “I’m looking to, um, find one. My name’s Arthur.”

“Okay, Arthur,” the man paused, and Arthur heard rustling in the background. “I have a few questions for you, and we can get you somebody in no time.”

Arthur answered every question that came at him, only letting out a yelp when Pete asked him if he’d like to pay for other activities. After declining immediately—and blushing profusely—Arthur had finally been paired up with a girl.

“Her name’s Y/N,” Pete said. “You will be billed for every hour that you spend with her. Your first session is scheduled for tonight at 7 PM at the address you gave me. Does all that sound correct?”

Arthur nodded before realizing that the man cannot see him. He stuttered out a ‘yes’ and hung up the phone.

His heart was thumping loudly in his chest; he couldn’t believe he went through with calling them. So many worries plagued his mind already— How would he afford this? What if you thought he was weird? If everyone at Ha-Ha’s found out…

He shook his head at that thought. He has absolutely no idea what’s going to happen, and there was no way for him to know.

And so, he waited.

—

A few hours later, a knock interrupted the Charlie Chaplin rerun that had been playing on his TV. Arthur pushed his freshly washed hair out of his eyes, making his way to the door. He opened it up, and his breath caught in his throat. Standing in front of him was someone he has never seen around Gotham—he would have remembered.

“Hi, Arthur,” you smile at him while giving a small wave. “I’m Y/N. I work at SnuggleBuddy.”

Arthur only gazes at you in shock. He definitely was not expecting someone like you; actually, he didn’t know what he was expecting. After a small bit of silence, you glance around nervously.

“Is this not the right apartment? Are you not Arthur?”

“No, I- I am.”

“Oh. This is your first time I’m assuming?”

Arthur nods, his mind finally catching up with him. He steps aside to let you in, and you move past him, checking out his apartment. Your eyes land on the TV, and you smile seeing “The Kid” playing across the screen.

You turn to Arthur. “Chaplin fan?”

“Huh?”

“Are you a Charlie Chaplin fan?”

He points over to the stack of tapes sitting by the small TV; your eyes follow his gaze until they land on the pile. You stand there, paused in thought while Arthur continues to watch you. Suddenly, you’re struck with an idea.

“Hey, if it would make you more comfortable, we could do the session on the couch? That way we can watch a film or two instead of laying in silence. Unless you’d be more comfortable with that. Whatever works for you, Arthur.”

He leads you to the couch, and both of you sit down.

“H-how does this work?”

You smile at him, trying to calm his nerves a little bit. “Really, it works however you want it to. Usually, people tell me what they like, what they don’t like, what makes them uncomfortable, what makes them feel relaxed.”

“I don’t know what I like,” Arthur says, looking ashamed at his lack of self-knowledge.

“That’s alright. We can figure it out,” you assure him. “I’m going to put my arms around you, okay?”

You wait for his consent before wrapping your arm around him. “Is this okay?”

He nods but stays stiff in your arms. “Do I…touch you?”

“You can,” you tell him, watching as he timidly puts one of his arms over your shoulders while the other one rests across his waist. You both stay like this for a little while, getting comfortable with the feeling of each other. After a few minutes, Arthur relaxes into your embrace, and you drop your head onto his chest.

Having this type of job was, no doubt, a little awkward at times. It was the only opportunity you were faced with after moving to Gotham city. You didn’t want to do this forever; sometimes, you thought about quitting after a long, hard day with some overly-touchy pervert. But sitting here with Arthur, his heartbeat steadily beating in your ear, you thought the job wasn’t so bad. 

“So, Pete, the guy you talked to when calling CuddleBuddy, he mentioned that you said something about not having this type of contact for a while,” you say. “How long has it been?”

You feel Arthur clam up at the question, and you immediately blurt out, “you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want. I was only curious.”

You look up at him and see his eyebrows scrunched together in concentration. His eyes are looking back at you, and you finally notice just how green his eyes are—like different hues of a forest. He seems to be studying you too, but as quickly as the silence came, it ended.

"For my whole life, I guess,“ Arthur says, breaking you out of your daze.

You frown. "Your- Arthur, that’s not healthy. We need to feel connections like this, you know?”

Arthur didn’t know. His mother—when she was living—was there to dance with him or hug him when the moment called for it. But he has never experienced anything outside of that. He briefly wondered if that’s something he should bring up with his social worker, but the thought left his mind when he felt your arms tighten around him.

“I didn’t mean to make you feel bad if I did,” you spoke up. “I was just surprised.”

He brushes off your apology, dispelling your fears of already upsetting him. When it’s clear that nothing else is going to be said on the matter, you lay your head back on his chest, content with only sitting with him for the remainder of the session.

Somehow, by the time the credits were being presented, Arthur was lying against the side of the couch, and you were lying next to him—your head still resting by his heart.

—

You could hear the TV playing in the background, your eyes fluttering open to the sound, only to be met with blinding sunlight coming through the windows. Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

You shoot up off of Arthur’s sleeping form, and he wakes with a jolt, looking just as startled as you. "I am so sorry,“ you tell him, burying your face into your hands. "I swear, I didn’t even realize that I was falling asleep.”

“It’s okay. Don’t be sorry,” he says, his voice still raspy from the night’s sleep. “I can’t remember a time when I’ve slept like that. I-I have insomnia.”

“Oh,” you nod sympathetically. “I’m glad I stayed over then.”

Arthur gives you a small smile. Your caring demeanor felt fresh and generous compared to the other residents of Gotham. But it’s only for a job, he reminded himself, he hired you. At that thought, panic arose in him.

“I don’t have the money to pay you for all the time you spent here,” he says, looking at a clock that read 9:23 AM.

“Don’t worry about it. It was my fault anyway. Pete will be in contact with you about how to pay for the session.”

Arthur hopes his disappointed look wasn’t too obvious; he honestly didn’t want you to leave. Even so, he walks you to the door and gives you one last small smile.

"I hope this isn’t the last time I’ll be seeing you,“ you say, returning his smile.

He blushes slightly, ducking his head. "It won’t be.”

—

Arthur has never been so happy strolling through the streets of Gotham on his way to Ha-Ha’s. The subway ride was surprisingly uneventful and the sun was still out—an unusual occurrence for the dark and somber city. Although, Arthur wondered if the city was actually that uninviting, or his change in scenery was due to the happenings of the night and early morning.

When Arthur gets to work, everything runs smoothly. Randall’s jokes never cease, but this time, they don’t bother him as much. There’s a lightness in his steps as he carries out the rest of his shift at Gotham City Children’s Hospital.

The real trouble comes on his way home; he chalks it up to bad luck—his day going “too well.” A few teenagers poking fun at his make-up, messing with his clown cap, and causing him to hold his throat as he chokes out unwanted laughter. When he returns to his apartment, his steps are less light than before—the stress of the evening finally catching up with him.

His hands reach for the phone before he can stop himself, and dial the number for CuddleBuddy. This time, the process is short. He only has to ask for you, and the next session is booked. Luckily, you didn’t have any previous arrangements tonight.

“They were harassing you, Arthur, you should tell someone,” you say, once you are cuddled up with Arthur again for the night. “People can’t treat you like that.”

“Yes, they can,” Arthur mumbled. “There’s nobody to tell, Y/N. Everybody is just mean.”

“Not everyone,” you say against his chest. “Your not.”

He only hums as a response, before glancing over towards the kitchen.

“Would you like to eat something? I could, um, make dinner,” he suggests.

“Are you paying for more of my time if I say yes,” you jokingly ask.

Arthur stumbles over his words. Of course, he thought. Payment. He just had to keep reminding himself that he was paying for your time; you were not here voluntarily.

“R-right. I’m sorry,” Arthur apologized. “Let’s just stay here then.”

“I was kidding. Dinner actually sounds nice,” you smile.

You both get up and make your way to the kitchen. For the next thirty minutes, you watch him as he whips around the kitchen, making dinner. You offered to help, but he insisted that he had it. By the time it’s done, and in your mouth, you were pleasantly surprised.

“Mmm,” you moan. Arthur was a damn good cook, and it showed. You were too focused on the food in front of you to notice Arthur’s cheeks turning a bright red color. 

Poor Arthur sat on the other side of the table, his ears burning from the small noise of pleasure you let out. How was it possible for one to sound so melodic, he wondered.

“Do you like it?” He asks, despite knowing the answer.

“I do. It’s really good,” you say. “Any chance you want to be a chef?”

“No, actually, I’m pursuing a career in comedy,” he says proudly.

“Maybe I can hear some of your routine sometime.”

“Maybe.”

The rest of the dinner went smoothly. You two shared Gotham horror stories, talked about family, and discussed mental illness in-depth. Arthur told you about the parts of himself that troubled him and society’s inability to understand. Your eyes stayed on Arthur the entire time, even after he got up to put away the dishes. His tan long-sleeve shirt, paired with his baggy pajama bottoms, made him look incredibly adorable. You tried to stop your mind from thinking anything like that about the man. After all, he only hired you for a job. But you couldn’t help it if his curls fell around his face in the most perfect way, or his smile shined with warmth when talking to you, or his eyes—God, his eyes—looked so lovely in every light possible.

When he’s done washing the dishes, you both return to the living room to resume the session. You move to sit back on the couch, but Arthur stays standing, shifting back and forth nervously.

“Can we, um, can we move this to the bedroom?”

You arch an eyebrow at his statement. “Really?”

His eyes become frantic as he moves to explain further. “I-I mean, instead of the couch. We could, you know, cuddle on the bed. I- I definitely did not mean…”

He trails off, and you giggle before getting up. “I know what you meant Arthur, relax.”

He nods relieved. He gestures for you to follow, leading you to what you presume is the bedroom. As you enter, your eyes glance around to the flower-covered walls before landing on the soft-looking blankets that lay across the bed. You don’t waste any time standing; you climb in next to Arthur, letting your limbs tangle in the same way they had earlier in the evening.

Your fingers graze his slender figure; the feeling of his warm shirt against your fingertips was enough to make you shiver. He brought the blankets up over you both, still hesitating as his arms rested back against you gently.

“Tell me about Ha-Ha’s. I don’t mean your shitty co-workers or rude boss; I want to know what you love about it. What makes you happy about working there?”

“I like making kids smile,” he says softly.

“Does that happen a lot?”

“Yeah. Sometimes they’re just walking past me, sometimes I visit the children’s hospital.”

Your heart melted at the mental image of Arthur, fully dressed in his clown make-up, interacting with the kids. His clown persona, who he mentioned was named Carnival, was something that you’d love to see.

You could feel the smile on his face when he spoke his next words.

“I get to sing and dance with them,” he says. “They never look at me funny for dancing.”

“That’s amazing, Arthur,” you tell him. “I bet you’re really good with them.”

“You know, you could come with me sometime,” he suggests. “They wouldn’t mind.”

You nod slightly before letting your eyes fall closed. You both lay in silence, taking in each other’s shallow breathing. A calm sensation that Arthur’s never experienced washed over him. The rise and fall of your head on his chest worked to ease his anxiety about the subway events. He still couldn’t fully relax in your hold, which is why he stayed quiet about his wish for you to pull him closer. Almost as if you read his mind, your arms tightened around his midsection as you snuggled further into his embrace.

“Arthur,” you say quietly.

“Yeah?”

“Do you want to be friends?”

The room fell silent. You didn’t want him to feel pressured to say yes, but you wanted to give him time to think it over. After talking to him about his decision to hire you, plus his lack of physical intimacy, you could only assume that the man doesn’t have many or quite possibly any people he considers a friend.

“You want to be my friend?”

You pick your head up off his chest, gazing into his pools of green that are filled with curiosity and disbelief. You don’t even have to think twice before nodding your head.

“I do,” you say. “Do you want to?”

“I do.”

—

The next few weeks are gone before Arthur realizes it. Not only is he able to see you every other day, but his cuddle sessions haven’t stopped simply due to your budding friendship. As the weekend approaches, he uses his time off work to go pick up his medications as well as see his social worker, Debra Kane. Although the process was no different—Arthur sat down, she asked if he brought his journal, she made a few remarks about some of the content, then asked about his job—his experience seemed to be a lot more rewarding.

“I have a friend,” Arthur all but beamed at the woman. “Her name is Y/N.”

“Arthur, have you thought any more about the prompts I gave you for last week’s journal writing?”

“She thought that I was wanting to become a chef, which is funny because I’m actually trying to be a comedian,” he says, disregarding Debra’s question. “She wants to hear my routine.”

“That’s certainly good,” the social worker comments offhandedly. “Are you experiencing any kind of negative thinking?”

Arthur laughs a little, reaching for his pack of cigarettes. He slides one out of the box, rests it on his lips, and lights it. Some things never change, he thinks to himself.

As Debra probes him with more questions he hears every week, his mind wanders back to you. He can nearly see you on the other side of the room—watching, smiling, waving. He doesn’t want to get caught up in his perceived idea of you, though; he only wants to keep you in his reality.

Arthur thinks back to his childhood—images of him sitting alone in the school cafeteria flash through his mind. For once in his life, he had somebody besides his mother, who seemed to care about him. He had a few boys in his early years that tried to befriend him, but upon learning his idiosyncrasies and hearing his booming laugh echoed through the quiet halls, they quickly turned their back on him, leaving young Arthur to wonder what went wrong.

When he was old enough to work, he was out trying to help his mom keep up with rent. He took odd jobs with quick payouts to hold on to their life in Gotham city. By this time, Arthur stopped trying to make friends all together. He knew the things he needed to do to keep surviving in a city like Gotham, and going out of his way to get rejected again wasn’t one of them.

After leaving the social work office, he arrives home feeling both excited and apprehensive. His trip down memory lane had brought the feelings he held towards friendships up to the surface. You were bound to realize what a freak he was at some point; he wonders how long it will take you to figure it out.

A knock on the door brings him out of his thoughts. He’s even more surprised to see you on the other side when he opens it.

“Oh, hey,” Arthur says.

“Hey,” you repeat.

“Did we have a session booked?”

“No, no,” you tell him. “I just thought we could hang out—if you wanted to that is. Sorry to just drop by.”

“It’s okay. I don’t mind,” he steps aside and lets you into the apartment. You make your way to the couch, and Arthur follows behind you. He stops short of sitting down and asks if you want anything to eat or drink. You decline his offer and pat the seat next to you.

“Come sit.”

He sits next to you stiffly, rubbing his hand over his bouncing leg. You raise an eyebrow at him, wondering why the man is so fidgety all of a sudden. Maybe you made him uncomfortable by showing up, you told yourself. He did say it was okay, though.

Before you could mull over your thoughts, Arthur broke the silence.

“Do you want to watch a movie? Um, or I could show you my stand-up routine? Or we could do something else. What do you want to do?”

You chuckle at his line of questions while tilting your head at him. “Watching a movie sounds fun, and I’d love to hear your routine.”

He immediately gets up and sprints to the bedroom, leaving you on the couch to smile at his behavior. He surely was adorable.

When he comes back, he’s dangling a few VHS tapes in one hand, and holding a journal in the other. You watch as he resumes his spot next to you and lays out the tapes onto the table.

“You can choose a movie, and I’ll pick out some of my jokes,” he says. You look over the different films ranging from “A woman of Paris” —a Charlie Chaplin feature— to one made by Ernst Lubitsch called “A Shop Around the Corner.” You finally land on one titled “Duck Soup” and pick it up to hand to Arthur.

“Good choice,” he gives you a small smile. “This is actually a comedy and a musical. This goofy man named Rufus—you’re going to like him—he becomes president of his country. The country beside them thinks Rufus is awful so they try and start a war. It- it doesn’t sound much like a comedy, but I swear it is.”

Your lips curved upwards, and your eyes twinkled with amusement. As you listened to Arthur go into extensive detail about the movie’s plot, you found your eyes dropping to his lips. As they moved with every word, you noticed how soft they looked despite them being slightly cracked. You wondered what it would be like to kiss-

“Y/N,” Arthur jarred you from your thoughts. “Is everything okay?”

Your face flushes red at being caught staring. You’re not sure if Arthur knew where you were looking, but he sure as heck knew you were distracted.

“Everything’s fine,” you reassure him. “It’s just been a long day. Did you want to show me some jokes?”

You gesture towards the journal still in his hands, and he smiles instantly. It takes a bit for Arthur to feel relaxed while presenting his material to you, but once he made you laugh a few times, he gained the confidence needed to finish. You were pleasantly surprised at the jokes he had come up with for the routine; they molded perfectly to your sense of humor and left you nearly in tears every time. You weren’t sure if they were actually that funny, or if you just wanted the beaming smile Arthur would shoot you after he made you erupt in laughter to stay there.

After nearly an hour of joke-telling went by, and some convincing on your part, you persuaded Arthur to put on the movie—insisting that you were not tired.

The film opens up with the flag of Freedonia—the country the movie takes place in. Straight from the beginning, you’re already invested in the storyline; your eyes carefully watch every movement on the screen, and you laugh when you finally meet Rufus—the new president of Freedonia. Rufus was just as Arthur made him out to be: goofy. As you watch the story unfold, you can tell why Arthur likes this movie so much. You look over to see if he’s smiling at the screen, only to see that he is, in fact, smiling, but not at the television. No, he is smiling directly at you.

You give him a questioning glance, and he ducks his head, immediately apologizing.

“Sorry. I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?”

“I was looking at you,” he explains.

“So? You’re allowed to look at me,” you chuckle, and his eyes meet yours again.

“I am?”

You can almost feel his breath from how close you’re sitting to him on the couch. Your shoulders are pressed together, while your thighs lay side by side. As a cuddler, you’ve been much closer to Arthur than you are right now, but somehow, this particular time feels more intimate than the others. Later, you’ll blame it on hormones, or maybe even your own mental stability, but just as Arthur was about to repeat his words, you leaned in and pressed your lips right against his.

The kiss didn’t last long, though. As soon as you felt the man tense up under your touch, you nearly flew off of him, sliding yourself to the other end of the couch.

“Shit. Fuck, Arthur. I am so sorry. That was so out of line for me to do. I wasn’t even thinking,” you slide your hand over your face, afraid to look over at Arthur in case he was glaring at you. “I should go.”

He didn’t say anything, and you assumed that was your cue to leave. You cursed yourself for being so brainless as you got up from the couch. As your hand reached for the door, you heard Arthur’s laughter from behind you. You felt tears sting your eyes as you left his apartment feeling foolish.

He found it funny; you found it heartbreaking.

Arthur scrambled to get up as he saw you leaving. His hand held tightly to his throat, as harsh chokes of laughter came barreling out of his mouth. He stopped just shy of the door, nearly toppling over as he tried to force himself to swallow the laughter. By the time he got the door open, you were gone.

He forced a pained smile at the empty hallway, turning back and shoving the door closed. The voices of his past cried out to him as he paced around the living room. You’re such a freak. What’s so fuckin’ funny? You were born by mistake. As more torments flew through his mind, Arthur stopped in front of the wall to lean his head against it. He didn’t know why you left in such a hurry, but he assumed it had something to do with him. He lifted his head back and slammed it against the wall with a sickening thump. Bang. You caused this. Bang. You made her feel like that. Bang. It’s your fault. Bang, bang, bang.

He slid down the wall, a single tear dropping from his eye, and just sat there. He couldn’t even feel his head throbbing; the pain in his heart was too high.

—

Days went by, and Arthur hadn’t heard from you. He picked up the phone several times to try and call your workplace, CuddleBuddy, but couldn’t bring himself to dial the number. He was too afraid of what you’d say when you had the chance. Not even a full month of friendship, and he’s already lost you. When he does get the courage to call the company, he’s only let down once again by the latest news.

“Sorry, man. Y/N quit a few days ago,” Pete tells him.

“Q-quit?”

“Yeah, she pulled her profile down from the bulletin, and said she was moving on.”

Arthur panics. This wasn’t supposed to happen. How would he get in touch with you now? Would he ever see you again?

He runs a hand through his curly locks before asking, “How can I reach her?”

“Uh, I’m not really supposed to give out her information, man.”

“But- but it’s Arthur. Arthur Fleck. I’ve been calling to book sessions for the last month.”

“Yeah, I know,” the man on the other line sighs. “But I don’t know who you are. I can’t really tell some guy her private business.”

“I’m not some guy! She’s my friend,” Arthur reasons. “Please.”

Pete groans and mumbles a 'fine’ before rattling of your address.

“If she ends up murdered tomorrow, I’m telling the police it was you.”

Arthur thanked him and chuckled lightly at the joke—assuming it was a joke. He took the piece of paper, which carried the address he had just scrawled down, and raced out the door. He grabbed the subway, recognizing your place to be near the Children’s hospital that he worked at occasionally. Once he was standing in front of what he had hoped was your apartment, his nerves were at an all-time high.

He was scared of rejection, scared of seeing your disgusted, disappointed, or aggravated face along with any words that might follow.

After three timid knocks, he waits patiently for you to open the door. When the door does swing open, he was met with an expression he wasn’t expecting—shock.

“Hi,” he utters shyly.

“Hi.”

Your heart thumps in your chest wildly at the view in front of you. You couldn’t believe Arthur was standing in your doorway right now; you half-expected this to be a dream. After you left his apartment that night, you felt the lightness you’ve been feeling for the past couple weeks drain from your body, only to be replaced by tightness in your chest and a dulling ache in your heart.

“You quit,” Arthur says, breaking the silence that loomed over you both.

“I did,” you open the door wider, letting Arthur walk into your apartment. He takes a look around, noting that the decorations you have chosen seem to be very you. He wants to marvel more at his surroundings, but instead, he turns back to you.

“I tried to book a session, but you quit,” he says, a hint of resentment in his voice. “Why would you do that?”

You sigh, offering him a small shrug. The ache in your heart hasn’t gone away, not since you saw him last. You wanted to give him a real explanation, but you didn’t want to bring up the kiss. You were afraid that his balled-up fist, quick-paced breathing, and twitching nose —all of which happened when the man felt anger— would be the result of your careless and selfish action.

“Why are you here, Arthur?”

“I- I want to know why you quit.”

“Because I knew you’d call,” you admitted. “I knew you’d call because that’s who you are.”

You sniffle quietly; the tears that have been threatening to fall since Arthur showed up were now spilling down your cheeks like a river.

“I didn’t want to see you,” you wiped harshly at your face.

Arthur gave you a troubled look. His expression was soft, but his eyebrows furrowed together in concern.

“Please don’t be upset,” he whispered. “I’m sorry.”

You gave him a bewildered look. “You’re …sorry? What on Earth are you sorry about?”

He only shrugged, so you took a deep breath and continued with what you had to say.

“I kissed you,” you looked away, still ashamed at the way you handled the situation. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I guess I just felt like I should in the moment; it was completely wrong of me. I apologize.”

“You didn’t make me uncomfortable, Y/N,” he mutters while fumbling with the zipper of his tan jacket. “I- I liked it.”

You smile sadly at him. “You don’t have to lie. I’ll be okay. We can continue being friends if you want; I just need some time.”

“But I’m not lying,” he says as if it’s the simplest thing in the world. 

"You- you laughed at me, Arthur,“ you whisper before chewing on your bottom lip, tears welling up in your eyes once again.

"I didn’t!”

Arthur tried his hardest to hold in whatever laughter that was always on the surface and bubbling over. He didn’t want to leave you feeling upset again, and he surely didn’t want you to think he was disregarding or making fun of your feelings.

“I have a condition,” he says. At your confused look, he shuffles around in his pants pocket to pull out one of his cards. He hands it to you, bracing himself for your reaction.

“Oh,” you say, reading the front before flipping it over and skimming over the back. “So- so you weren’t laughing at me?”

“No! I would never. Not unless you made a joke.” Arthur assures you before pausing. “Did you?”

“I would never,” you repeat to him. Both of you stay unspeaking, taking in the words that the other has said. You wanted to talk more about what happened, but you didn’t want to cross any more lines in the relationship.

“Y/N, can I ask you something?”

You nodded weakly.

“Why did you kiss me? Is that what friends are supposed to do?”

“No, Arthur,” you look solemnly at him. “Friends don’t do that.”

"I didn’t think so,“ he says. "So, why would you? ”

You shrug half-heartedly. “I don’t know. I think you’re funny.”

His eyes search yours for some clarification, but he finds none. “You kissed me because you think I’m funny?”

“Yes,” you say. “and because you’re sweet and easy to talk to, and- and handsome.”

Your face heated up at your comment, but there was no taking it back now. Arthur’s face matched yours, and he stumbled over his words to try and respond.

“What- what does this mean?”

He was pretty sure he knew what it meant; he’s seen enough movies to know precisely what it meant. However, he couldn’t be too careful. The mere thought of him getting it wrong, and you—his only friend in Gotham—leaving was too much for him to handle.

“I think you know what it means, Arthur,” you say to him.

“Can you please just tell me?”

You exhale. “Do you want to go out with me?”

Although you didn’t directly answer his question, it was almost better. He didn’t waste a single second before nodding his head.

“Yes, I’d like that,” Arthur musters up every ounce of courage he has and slides his arms around you in a hesitant embrace. You hug him back tightly, encouraging him to do the same. You stand there for the next couple minutes, the events of the last couple days catching up with you both. “Can we- can we kiss again?”

You pull back enough to look at him, your lips curving into a smile. “Thought you’d never ask.”

You lean into him, capturing his lips in a slow kiss. You could feel your heart explode with emotions; Arthur’s lips timidly sliding over yours as his hands came up to rest on your cheeks. When you pulled apart, you looked at Arthur with his crimson cheeks and slightly swollen lips, and you couldn’t think of anything or anyone more beautiful than the man in front of you.

“When can we do that again?”

You giggle at his question, your eyes sporting a playful gleam. “Well, if you were my boyfriend, we could do that all of the time.”

“Okay,” he agrees, and you nearly choke on the air around you.

“R-really? Arthur, do you understand what I just said?”

He nods, and you explore his face for any trace of uncertainty or humor, but there is none. He was completely serious.

“Don’t you think it’s too soon?”

“No,” he huffs. “I’ve spent my whole life thinking that the same apartment, the same questions from my social worker, and the same people were going to hold me back forever. I don’t want to be held back.”

You bite your lip, wondering how you’re ever going to keep this relationship going if he’s always this damn adorable.

“Okay,” you smile at him, not being able to control your happiness.

“So, Y/N,” he looks at you shyly, with a small smirk in place.

“Yes, Arthur?”

“Now that you’re my girlfriend, does that mean I get cuddle sessions for free?”

You laugh, playfully swatting him on the arm as joy tugged at the corners of his lips too. 

And you both thought to yourselves, how did I get so lucky?

[crimsoncityhq]

The fall solstice is only days from breaking over the Crimson City. Heat is a rare commodity to the residents of Chicago, so they part with it bitterly every year at the annual End-of-Summer Festival. The season goes out with a bang and the rumble of food trucks every summer as patrons waltz their way down the Chicago art walk, indulge in all things saucy and boozy at the Chicago Bourbon and BBQ Festival, get in touch with nature at the Chicago craft beer tasting at the zoo, and shop at the Chicago flea market littered with street merchants from all over the country. Of course, the real selling point every year is the annual Chicago bar crawl, which sweeps guests through Cook County’s best bars, like The Pint, Rousseau’s, Cataleya, Wolves and Skyfall Bar. To attract more customers, each bar, restaurant, and club—even what goes on behind—will be steeply discounted for the ultimate occasion. 

And if you’re a little territorial, don’t sweat it—no metal detectors will be necessary at the End-of-Summer Festival. Who would want to ruin all this fun, anyway ?!

Part I of the End-of-Summer Festival begins at 7:15 P.M. CST and will conclude on TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 15 at 7 P.M. CST. You may continue your non-event  threads through the event, however we ask you don’t post any starters unless they pertain to the event

Under the cut are plot slots you may claim for this event; just send your preferred slot to the main. Plots slots are a first come, first serve basis.

We’re going to allow each person to choose two plot slots for two characters max .If there are any leftovers, we’ll let members know when they can sign up for thirds. Please try to pick one pertaining to your character and plot with those that take the other spots.

You’ll notice that some of these plots are public, so feel free to have your character react to them/ notice them even if they aren’t happening directly to your character. However, if something feels like it happened privately to another character, please check in with their Mun to see if it’s okay for your character to know.

To be clear: these are not the only things that happen to your character during this plot drop and you are more than welcome to cook up your own trouble.

1. IRA EVANS talks BIRDIE MENDOZA into taking five shots in under ten minutes. Now, it’s up to IRA EVANS to lug BIRDIE MENDOZA to each location on the bar crawl. Good luck—we hear they’re sloppy.

2. [LINCOLN ROSSI ] is having trouble finding their way out of the parking garage when they find [ CHARACTER D ] drunkenly screaming at an intoxicated [ CHARACTER E ]. [ LINCOLN ROSSI ] decides to guide them back to the party before they get lost.

3. [ EDIE JAMES ] accidentally drops a ten instead of a one into the tip jar while watching a street act. They awkwardly remove the tip but later get mugged by [ CHARACTER G ] and [ CHARACTER H ] who had watched the whole thing.

4. The Pint is running a promotion that promises six months of free drinks if you can outdrink two other people. [ LAVRENTI VASILE ], [ ANTON VOLKOV ], and [ ATTICUS MERCER ] compete to win, but the competition turns into drunken chaos very quickly.

5. [ VIOLET MADDEN ]is selected to go onstage and perform a duet with [ CHARACTER M ]. They end up sharing a heated moment over the microphone and head to the nearest restroom to talk. 

6. [ AUTUMN DAWSON ] accompanies [ MARCEL WALSH] to the craft beer tasting at the zoo. [ MARCEL WALSH ] feeds the goats in the petting area before getting mowed over by it. [ AUTUMN DAWSON ] tries to ward the goat off from the sidelines while [ MARCEL WALSH ] returns to their feet to make their escape.

7. [ OAKLEY BUTLER ] is showing off their artwork at the art walk. [ LEONID 'LEO' VASILE ] buys a piece and tries to scam it a few booths down. [ OAKLEY BUTLER ] busts them after a civilian buys the piece of artwork for triple the price. The confrontation is no bueno.

8. [ DIAMOND WASHINGTON ] has been texting [ CHARACTER S ] the whole entire event thinking it was an [ CHARACTER T ]. [ CHARACTER S & CHARACTER T ] meet up at the rendezvous point and [ DIAMOND WASHINGTON ] must sort this miscommunication out.

9. TYSON KANE uses a random dating app and schedules a blind date with [CHARACTER V]. 

10. [ CHARACTER W ] ‘accidentally’ sets a booth on fire, and now owes [CHARACTER X] the money for their artwork.

11. [ NADIA JAMES ] crashes into [ MARISSA ATKINSON’s ] car when trying to park. They have an altercation in the parking garage.

12. [ JUNO SONG ] is seen drunkenly trying to serenade the penguin exhibit to Gangsta’s Paradise. [ ADELAIDE HASSAN ] records the whole entire thing for ‘information purposes’ later.

13. [ CHARACTER C1 ] accepts a small baggy containing a questionable substance from [ CHARACTER D1 ]. Later, [ CHARACTER C1] runs into [ CHARACTER D1] completely convinced they are being chased by a murderous peacock. Bougie Thankskilling, anyone?

14. [ ARMANDE IVASHKOV ] & [ CHARACTER F1 ] stand in line to get into Cataleya, while [CHARACTER G1] tries to convince them to smuggle in [ SMALL ANIMAL OF CHARACTER G1’S CHOOSING ].

15. [ EMMA BARTLETT] finds a trashbag full of cash with a note that seems to be in a binary code. [ CHARACTER I1] catches [ EMMA BARTLETT’s] silhouette & comes over to inspect.

16. ROSALIA LEON trying to escape from their date, runs right through the doors of Gentile Fille. They collide with [ CHARACTER K1] that was there for the same reason. 

17. [ CHARACTER L1 ] finds themself in a pickle when they end up with the primates. Their panicked whispers gain the attention of [ CHARACTER M1] & [ CHARACTER N1] to help them get out of the exhibit. While the primates descend upon [ CHARACTER L1], Helen Branch Primate House will never be the same. [ CHARACTER N1] stops helping because they’re too busy laughing.

18. [ CHARACTER O1] misses their date’s ass, and smacks [CHARACTER P1’s] ass instead. It causes [ CHARACTER P1] to swing a fist, but they hit [ CHARACTER Q1’s] throat instead causing them to start choking. 

19. [ KATERINA VASILE ] is mistaken for [ EMMA WATSON ] by [ CHARACTER S1] that won’t stop bugging them for an autograph.

20. [ RAFAEL GONZALEZ ] hides their weapon(s) before they go into The Pint. [ BARNABY EATON] trips over the weapons and keeps them. 

21. [ CHARACTER V1] tries to convince [ CHARACTER W1] that they saw strange lights in the sky. They start arguing if it was helicopter lights or UFO’s.

22. [ SILAS HALE ] mistakes ANAIS "ANNIE" WASHINGTON for someone else, and pulls them into a kiss in front of the crowd at Eden.

23. [ DARREN MURPHY ] grows impatient waiting for their BBQ food order, but doesn’t realize [ ASLI DEMIR ] hijacked the food truck. 

24. [CHARACTER B2] drunkenly loses a fight with a street performer. [ CALLUM JAMES ], who witnessed the scrap, helps [CHARACTER B2] to the nearest first aid kit.

25.[ JOSIE LEON] drunkenly confesses their love for One Direction, however [ EZRA WASHINGTON ] misinterprets it as a confession of love for them.  

26. [ FOREST DUNCAN ] decides the End-of-Summer Festival is missing some pyrotechnics. They shoot off fireworks in the center of a small crowd and start a fire. [ CAIOLAINN 'CALLIE' WALSH ] is the only one who stays to help them stamp it out.

27. [ ROSALIE "ROSIE" HALLIDAY ] is sitting at a booth being drawn, and [ JESSE VALENCIA ] pays the artist to mess up the self portrait. However, the artist ends up drawing them BOTH together in a romantic position. 

28. [ GWENDOLYN "GWEN" ARNOLDS ] is probably the only poor sober soul, and they use this to charge [ JACKSON MARSTON ] to be their DD. However, they both witness when [ GWENDOLYN "GWEN" ARNOLDS’s] car is towed away for parking in the wrong spot.  

29. A discounted tattoo shop sits along the art walk and is charging only $20 for a small tattoo. [ ANDREA 'ANDY'PEREZ ] says they’ll pay for it—and dinner—if [ DARCY FAUST ] lets them choose the tattoo. [ DARCY FAUST ] agrees but is horrified to find [ UP TO PLAYER DISCRETION ] permanently engraved on their skin.

30. [ OLIVIA MADDEN ] notices an odd tattoo that glows on someone’s forearm. Several straight lines? Before they can inquire about it, [ CHARACTER O2 ] tackle them mistaking them for being a thief. 

31. [ DANICA SINCLAIR ] wins a dancing contest against [ UDORN “YURI” SASIPARN ], but twists their ankle in the process. [ UDORN “YURI” SASIPARN ] agrees to help them along only if they declare them the winner.  

32. [ ANTON VOLKOV ] lost a bet with [ KONSTATIN VASILE ] and now wanders the street with a bright pink wig, fishnet stockings, & a clown mask. 

33. [ VICTOR 'VIC' VOLKOV ] strikes a conversation with [ IGOR VASILE ] over a piece of artwork.  [ VICTOR 'VIC' VOLKOV ] buys the artwork only to find out it was counterfeit from the Art Museum. [ IGOR VASILE ] ends up purchasing the real one. They start to argue which one is the real one. 

34. [ CHARLOTTE "CHARLIE" ARDEN] is running a booth at the flea market and notices [ CHARACTER W2 ] pocket something from an adjacent vendor. [ CHARLOTTE "CHARLIE" ARDEN ] promises not to squeal if [ CHARACTER W2 ] works with them at the booth for an hour.

35.  [ JESSIKA DELMONICO] & [ KELLEN WASHINGTON ] break out into a paint fight at an abandoned art booth. [ JESSIKA DELMONICO ] is splashed with a neon green paint in the face.  [ KELLEN WASHINGTON ] tries to run away, but not before [ CHARACTER X2 ] splashes their back with a brown paint. Did they shit themselves??

36. [ CHARACTER Z2 ] ducks out of the way from a flying object that crashes the window of a closed shop. The alarms start to blare, and before [ CHARACTER Z2 ] can leave the scene they see [ CHARACTER A3 ] about to launch something else. 

37. [ TALIA ARSLAN ] eats a bad hot dog from a food truck, and [ DANICA SINCLAIR ] helps them to the nearest bar for a bathroom and a cool drink. [ TALIA ARSLAN ] talks [ DANICA SINCLAIR ] into doing shots when they’re feeling better.

38. [ LEV VASILE ] takes a few healthy tokes of the joint they’ve been saving for an occasion, and [ GENEVIEVE BISSET ] asks if they’re willing to share. They both light up and head on a self-guided tour to the food trucks.

39. [ CHARACTER F3 ] and [ CHARACTER G3 ] get into an argument with [ MATHIAS ATTANO ] after they lose at a drinking game for the third time in a row. [ MATHIAS ATTANO ] has been cheating the whole time and now has to lose [ CHARACTER F3 ] and [ CHARACTER G3 ] in the crowd.

[returnn-of-the-mac]

I love the way you write the companions! Especially X6! Companions react to Sole giving them nicknames based on pre-war movies?

Thank you! X6 is one of my favorite characters to write (along with Ada and Danse)! Sorry this took so long, there were a few characters I struggled with (looking @u gage & preston). Also, again, I usually write a silent Sole, but I couldn’t for this one, obviously. Please enjoy!😄

Fo4 Companions React: Sole Giving Them Pre-War Movie Nicknames

Strong:

Strong and Sole where walking around Sanctuary when the super mutant heard rustling in the bushes.

“COME OUT, PUNY RADROACH! STRONG SMASH YOU INTO THE GROUND!”

Sole smirked, “Easy there, Hulk. It’s just Dogmeat.”

Strong scratched his head, “Who Hulk? He a Radroach?”

Danse:

Sole was in Danse’s quarters as the Paladin was trying on some new patriotic power armor he had designed. He stepped out in his red, white, and blue mechanical suit and twisted around a bit to show Sole.

“What do you think,” He asked, “Is it too much?”

Sole giggled, “You kinda look like Optimus Prime.”

“You mean Liberty Prime?”

“Nope. I mean Optimus Prime. He’s a Cybertronian from a pre-war movie called Transformers.” Sole explained.

“Cybertron? Is that like a synth,” Danse scoffed, “Cuz I’d be damned if I looked like a synth.”

“Well, no. Cybertron is the planet they’re from. It’s complicated, but it’s basically a fictional species of robots that can transform from ordinary objects. Like cars.”

A confused Danse gave his companion an acknowledging nod, “Ah, okay. That actually sounds pretty interesting. Maybe the Brotherhood could start crafting armor based off of these ...uh...’Cybertronians.’ You’re going to have to show me sometime, soldier.”

Nick:

“Hmm...” Nick pondered, looking over his latest case, “This Marowski fellow seems to be up to no good, yet again. His chem lab is more secure this time too...I’m thinking we’re going to have to tinker around with some scrap and invent a device to break into there undetected.”

“And what do you suggest we create, Inspector Gadget?”

Nick rolled his eyes. “Ha ha. Very funny. I happen to who that is, you know.”

MacCready:

MacCready and Sole where camping out at Outpost Zimonja for the night, lying under the stars, next to a campfire.

“You know what stinks,” Macready began, “Being an adult. So much is expected of you, and all the other adults are all just a buncha bullies.”

Sole gazed at their companion and he continued, “I swear, the kids at Little Lamplight were more mature than at least half the mungos in the Commonwealth. I wish I’d never had grown up...I wish I could’ve stayed a kid forever.”

“Okay, Peter Pan,” Sole laughed, “Growing up is a part of life. Everyone goes through it. Society wouldn’t thrive if people didn’t get older.”

MacCready was still caught up on the first part of Sole’s statement. “Peter...who? Who’s that?”

“Peter Pan. He was a mythical boy who never grew up, and he lead a group called The Lost Boys in Neverland. They’d go on adventures and stuff. It was a story that got adapted into a popular pre-war movie,” Sole explained.

MacCready was captivated by the description. “That seems...awesome, actually! Can you tell me more about it?”

Ada:

Sole and Ada were trekking through the wilderness just beyond the glowing sea when a RadStrorm hit. Adamant about making it to their destination, Sole continued to their journey, despite the wind, rain, and rads.

“[Sir/Ma’am],” Ada beckoned, “Being that I am non-organic, these rads don’t have an effect on me. You, however, might get sick if we continue.”

Sole ignored Ada and continued to press forward. Ada tried again.

“[Sir/Ma’am]? It is highly likely that you will not be able to successfully complete your mission if you were to fall ill.”

Sole, once again, ignored their companion and continued forward. Ada, ardent about keeping her companion healthy, tried a third time.

“[Sir/Ma’am]? I believe I saw an abandoned barn a few miles back. We could camp there for the night.”

Sole stopped and gave Ada a stern look. “C-3PO. Please. Be quiet for just a minute. I can’t even hear myself think.”

Ada beeped a few times. “I am unfamiliar who this model C-3-P-O is. My model number A-D-4.”

Piper:

“Okay, look. I think we’re really gonna get him this time, Blue,” Piper began, peeking through her binoculars at an unsuspecting Mayor McDonough, “Oh! Oh! Look! He put the toilet paper on the holder flap-side-up. Mm-hmm. Definitely a synth.”

Sole raised an eyebrow, “And what’s your master plan here? We gonna break in there and catch him in the act of changing his toilet paper, Lucy Stevens? Kinda not a good look.”

Piper cocked her head to the side, “Lucy...Stevens? Who’s that?”

Sole giggled, “She’s a reporter from one of my favorite pre-war movies.”

Piper smirked, “And what movie would that be?”

“Detective Pikachu.”

Gage:

Sole and Gage were building a raider base when suddenly Gage stopped hammering.

“Hey, got any more nails over there? Can’t see for shit with this eyepatch.”

Sole rolled their eyes and handed the raider the container of nails, “Why don’t you just take it off then? I know you have a fully-functional eyeball under there.”

“Yeah but it’s part of the image.”

“Alright, One-eyed Willie.”

“The fuck is that?” Gage asked, “You pickin on me, boss?”

Hancock:

Hancock and Sole were hanging out in Hancock’s quarters listening to the radio, taking hits of jet, and drinking whiskey.

“This is niice,” Hancock mused, taking a long hit of jet, “Sometimes ya need a break from running the city, yanno?”

Sole nodded.

Suddenly, the song changed and Hancock grunted. “I hate this one. It kills the vibe in here.”

As he got up to change the station, drink in hand, a random Goodneighbor resident barreled into the room, nearly knocking the mayor over.

“Woah, friend, I’ve got a beverage here.” It was then the ghoul noticed he had spilled his drink all over himself and the rug. “Ah, come on, brother. That was a new rug.”

“Easy there, Lebowski,” Sole consoled, standing up and putting a hand on their companion’s shoulder, “Whiskey shouldn’t be too difficult to clean off a rug.”

“Sorry Hancock,” the resident apologized, “But your friend here is right. I mean it is practically water.”

Cait:

Cait and Sole were crouched behind a stack of boxes, fully prepared to ambush a group of raiders who were holding an innocent settler hostage.

“Can’t wait to use this new machete ye gave me,” Cait gushed, excitedly studying the weapon, “Never have had the chance to use one of these before.”

Sole smiled.

“Ready darlin?”

“Ready.”

The pair sprung out from their hiding spot and began their onslaught. Sole took cover behind an old desk, shooting at the raiders with ease and Cait decapitated them with her machete.

“I’m just gettin warmed up, ye clowns!”

The redhead suddenly ran up a side wall and did a flip, slicing two raiders heads off at the same time. Sole lowered their weapon and watched in awe as their partner singlehandedly decimated the raiders with her melee weapon. When the last raider was taken out, Cait took a little bow.

“Damn, Uma Thurman! Leave some for me next time,” Sole joked.

“Couldn’t help it. This machete is way too much fun.”

Deacon:

Deacon and Sole were hiding in an air vent, preparing to take out some synths as asked by Drummer Boy, when Deacon started fumbling around.

“What are you doing?” Sole whispered harshly, annoyed by their partner’s commotion.

“I’m due for an image change,” Deacon answered matter-of-factly, taking his shirt off, “I’ve been in my Elvis Presley Wannabe disguise for two hours now.”

Sole clenched their teeth in frustration.

“What do you think I should go for? The intelligent Bald Doc or intimidating Street Punk?”

“How about the bumbling Austin Powers?”

Deacon chuckled, “Yeah bAbY! I’m flattered you would even suggest that. Such a cool character.”

Sole rolled their eyes as Deacon began to dress as the iconic British spy.

Curie:

Curie and Sole were walking along the coast of Salem when the synth suddenly stopped. Sole turned around, concerned.

“You okay, Curie?”

The synth looked at Sole and smiled. “Oui. I was just thinking...thank you so much for giving me the opportunity to exist in human form.”

“No problem! I’m just glad you’re happy.”

Curie nodded, “It’s not like I wasn’t happy being in my old body it’s just...I can do so much more now in this new body. Do field work, collaborate, share my findings and be taken seriously. That and...this body is very flattering. Much more attractive than metal and bolts.”

Sole laughed, “Hey, I thought your EVE form was adorable.”

“Eve? Who is that?”

“She was a character— a robot— from a pre-war movie called WALL-E.”

“I see...well, that is very interesting, [Madame/Monsieur]!”

Longfellow:

“Damn snow. I hate the North. Move me to the tropics,” Longfellow complained as he and Sole walked through a light snow flurry.

“It’s not even that bad,” Sole reassured, “Besides, what would Christmas be without snow?”

“I don’t care about Christmas. Got no family to celebrate it with anyway.”

“Oh come on, Scrooge,” Sole teased, “We can celebrate Christmas together if you want.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I am old Ebenezer. Bah humbug,” Longfellow grumpily muttered, taking a shot of whiskey.

X6-88:

X6 and Sole were on a mission tag a synth with a tracking beacon when Sole suddenly stopped.

“Is something wrong, [sir/ma’am]?” the synth asked, concerned.

“No it’s just...what would you look like without your glasses? I’ve never seen you take them off. Do you even have eyes under there?”

X6 nodded, “Of course I have eyes. The glasses make me look slick. More professional, if you will.”

“You look like Morpheus from The Matrix.”

“And he was an influential individual, was he not?”

Sole remained silent.

“Case in point, [sir/ma’am].”

Preston:

Sole had just returned to Sanctuary after a lengthy fight with some gunners with Preston beckoned to them.

“Another settlement needs our help,” he began, “The settlers at Nordhagen beach are complaining about a wobbly chair and—“

Sole raised their hand in the air, “Do it yourself, Fix-it-Felix,” they mumbled before retreating to their room for a nap.

Codsworth:

Sole and Codsworth were in their old house, assembling furniture and reminiscing about the past.

“This was such a happy home before the bombs dropped. I wish we could go back to it, [sir/mum].”

Sole nodded in agreement as they discovered old photographs in cracked frames. Codsworth hovered over to examine Sole’s finding.

“Ah! That photograph! That was the first day you adopted me,” the robot gushed, “I’m so glad you chose the name Codsworth and not any of the absurd names the [hubby/wife] was suggesting.”

Sole laughed, “But Codsworth was their idea! I was going to name you BB-8.”

“Seriously? Why? Just because I’m round and I’m a robot?”

“Exactly!”

Codsworth huffed in annoyance and floated away from an amused Sole.

[just-jordie-things]

11 please! Or 34.

Kiss Prompt #34: Returned From The Dead Kiss

This was... really bad.  Probably the worst day of your life.  

Which was saying something, seeing as you were a teenager in the most boring town on earth, who was constantly bullied by a group of older boys and even had a clown that was also a demon terrorize you all summer.

Said clown was the root of all your problems- and currently the biggest one being that Richie wasn’t fucking waking up.

After you and the Losers had defeated It (or so you thought anyways) you’d preemptively cheered in victory, one to realize your resident trashmouth wasn’t cheering and group hugging with you all.  He’d been lying on the dirty ground, unconscious.

And now that you thought about it, you hadn’t even recalled him getting knocked down.  But you’d been fighting with everything you had, so focused on landing every blow to the clown, that you hadn’t paid much attention to the others at all.  

And oh you were so scared that you were going to pay dearly for that mistake.

You had probably yelled at him and shook his body in desperate attempts to wake him up for ten minutes before the Losers decided he needed to go to the hospital now and fast.

You were inconsolable, and it took Ben prying you off of the unconscious man and holding you firmly in his arms to get you to stay off of Richie’s body. You’d pleaded with the others that you should be the one to carry him, but Mike and Bill were already doing so, not even entertaining the idea of your tiny ass lugging Richie out of the sewers.  There was just no way you could do it.

It felt like days that you sat in the waiting room, doing just that, waiting.  It had only been a few hours since Richie had been admitted, but having not heard a peep from the doctor or the nurses was starting to scare you.

You were shaking in your seat, hunched over with your elbows on your knees, and your hands wrapped tightly together as you stared off at nothing.  Just waiting.

Beverly had stayed by your side the whole time, while the others took turns making trips to the hotel for showers, or to bring lunch back for everyone.

Meanwhile you hadn’t showered, you hadn’t eaten, and dear lord you needed them both.  You looked like shit, probably because you just fought a demon clown in a sewer, and you hadn’t eaten since the day before.

But you weren't hungry.  And you weren’t about to go shower just for Richie to wake up and you weren’t there.

Nope.  You needed to be here.  And that’s what you kept telling your friends as they tried to convince you otherwise.  They did everything they could, bargained, begged, Ben even tried bribing you, but you ignored it all.

“I have to be here when he wakes up” 

Beverly understood, that’s why she stayed right next to you, looking like she’d been through hell and back, just like you.  She’d hold your hand, or rub your back, she’d even untangled your messy hair with her fingers.  Anything to comfort you, and help pass the time.

Beverly had known that you’d been in love with Richie since the dawn of time.  Since you were kids, all through your teen years, and even now, after having been separated for ages, you were still in love with him, and to her it was clear as day.  Therefore she knew that you were slowly dying, with every hour that passed.

She figured the others were starting to realize it too, because they’d stopped whining and pleading for you to take a break, and one by one sat with you and comforted you to the best of their ability.

It didn’t exactly help, but it was kind and you still appreciated it.

After six hours of sitting uncomfortably, with your head on Bev’s shoulder, and a jacket that Ben had brought for you draped around you like a blanket, a nurse finally approached.

“Are you the folks here for Richard Toz-”

“Yes! Yes, that’s us” You'd answered before she could even finish, sitting up straight and staring at her expectantly.

“He’s finally stabilized, and looks to be in good condition.  It’ll be quite a process to heal but...”

She continued to explain that his vitals were at normal levels, and went more in depth to what that all meant medically, but you couldn’t hear anything past good condition.  

The waterworks started up again, and you shamelessly cried tears of relief that he was at least okay.

“When can we see him?” Beverly asked for you, and she rubbed your back again.

“You’re free to go in now if you’d like, he’s not awake yet, but he should be waking up soon when the anesthetics wear off,” The nurse said.  “But... I should warn against all of you going in...” She glanced among the six people in the waiting room who were all huddled together.  “He’s going to be very out of it when he wakes up, and any loud noises or... a group of people... might be too stressful to take in all at once”

“That’s okay, thank you” Beverly said, and patted your back as she nodded to you.

“Me?” You asked, sniffling and wiping your eyes.

“Yes, you,” She spoke with a gentle teasing tone.  “Of course you” 

You looked to the others, making sure they were okay with you going in.

“Yeah, (y/n),” Ben nodded, giving you the okay.  “He doesn’t want to wake up to see any of us anyways” He added, making you smile for just a moment.

You nodded your head, and stood up, following the nurse down the hall to Richie’s room.

“This is it,” She stopped at a door shortly, and you took in a deep breath.  The woman's expression softened as she gave you a smile and nodded her head.  “Don’t worry, he should wake up very shortly” 

“Thank you” You breathed out, and finally opened the door.

Your breath caught in your throat as your eyes landed on him.  He looked horrible, tied up to all these machines, passed out on a surely uncomfortable cot.

But the heart monitor was still beeping.

And the rise and fall of his chest was short but at least it was movement.

You rushed as quietly as you could to grab a chair from the wall, and drag it up to the side of his bed, so you could be right there when he awoke.

“I’m so sorry,” You whispered softly, your fingers mindlessly playing with the thin blanket that laid over him.  “I should have done something, I’m so sorry, Richie,” 

He didn’t say anything, he was still asleep, but that was alright.  You just needed to get it off of your chest.

“I didn’t know that I had to protect you... all these years I thought you proved you could handle your own but... I guess it’s been a while since we’ve fought a demon clown together, huh?”

A small, humorless chuckle left your lips, and you shook your head as you looked away from him.

Your eyes landed on his glasses, which had a small crack of them, laying on a small table.  You took them and placed them carefully over his face.  You wanted him to actually see you when he woke up.

“I hope it doesn’t hurt,” You continued to talk to him.  “When you wake up.  I hope the medicine lasts a little longer...”

Tentatively, you reach for his hand, pulling it towards you and wrapping both of your hands around it.

You blinked away tears, because you didn’t want the first thing he saw to be you crying.  But it was hard to hold them back.

“The others told me I should be the first one to see you,” You told him quietly, and pressed your lips against his knuckles.  “I hope that’s okay... truth is I... I needed to tell you that... that um...” 

“That you’re deeply in love with me?” 

Your eyes shot up, surprised to meet his, and a stupid smirk he had on his face even though he’d literally just woken up.

“Richie-” 

“Hey, sweetness” He greeted, his voice rough and raspy, not that you minded one bit, you were just glad to hear it.  Despite his scratchy throat it still had that Richie charm.

“You were dead” You whimpered, and he gave your hand a faint squeeze.

“Well I’m alive now aren’t I?” He asked with a weak chuckle.

You sniffled as tears streamed down your cheeks, a watery smile on your lips.

“But I really thought that you’d died,” You cried. “I thought that you- that- that I just let you-”

“It’s alright, it doesn’t matter,” He spoke up before you could get too carried away.  “Because I’m not dead, see?” He squeezed your hand again, this time with a little bit more strength.  “Worry not sweetness, I’m around for the long haul”

Your smile widened, even though you were crying, but they were tears of happiness.  Holding his hand tighter between yours, you held it against your cheek as you leaned onto his bed more.

He gave you a gentle smile.

“I’m glad you’re the first thing I woke up to,” He mumbled, even getting you to laugh softly as you shook your head.  “Come here,” 

Shyly, you leaned closer to him, but only a few inches, which wasn’t enough.

“A little closer sweetness” Richie chuckled, and you hesitantly inched closer, until your nose prodded against his, and your eyes slipped shut.

His hand loosened out of your hold, cupping your cheek and guiding you to meet his lips.  It was a gentle kiss, you were just so nervous that you’d do something to hurt him, but it was perfect.  It was enough to make your feelings known.

When you pulled away you took his hand from your face and laced your fingers together sweetly.

“I’m deeply in love with you too, you know” He told you, and you did your best to bite back a smile.

“I never said that” You mumbled playfully.

“Ah, but you were thinking it” He shot right back, leaning his head against his (horribly stuffed) pillow.

Your thumb brushed overtop of his in a calming motion, and you noticed his knuckles were just as swollen and bruised as yours.

“Have been for a while now” You whispered out, making him smile as he shut his eyes to rest.

“Me too, sweetness”

[losersclubbitches]

ReaderxLoser(Richie Tozier)

You met Richie Tozier a week after what the Losers deemed “the Clown Incident”. You were messing with your yo-yo as you walked down the sidewalk and suddenly, another yo-yo string entangled with yours.

“Hey, asshole, watch where you’re swinging that thing!” you exclaimed, looking up to further scold whoever it was. You weren’t expecting to look into the deep eyes of a gorgeous pre-teen.

“Damn, rude much?” he spoke, giving you a smile full of huge, crooked teeth.

“Sorry. Not having a particularly good day,” you grumbled, sitting on a nearby bench. The kid sat next to you, since your yo-yos were still connected.

“Tell Granny what’s troubling you, child,” he voiced in what seemed to be an attempt at a sweet old lady voice, but turned out to be more like his regular voice. You laughed, wiping at the tears in your eyes.

“That’s an awful impression,” you informed him.

“So I’ve been told,” he replied. “But seriously, tell me what’s up.”

“I’m just sick of moving ‘cause of my mom’s stupid job. This is the sixteenth city I’ve been to and all of them have been on the stupid East coast. Have you ever been to Florida?” A head shake. “Well, don’t go. It sucks to live there. It’s hot and humid and there are way too many old people pinching your cheeks.” A laugh. “One day, I woke up to an alligator on our front porch! So not cool! And don’t get me started on New Jersey!” You spoke the state’s name in the local dialect. “I just want to move out to L.A.. Somewhere cool. But no. Mom’s stupid job brings her to stupid places like boring Derry, Maine,” you ranted. “No offense.”

“None taken,” the boy replied. “This town sucks major balls. But it’s not boring.”

“Really? What’s the most interesting thing that’s happened here?” you asked. “Little Timmy won a spelling bee?”

“It was a science fair, and no, actually. The weirdest thing that’s happened here was a series of murders every 27 years over the course about a year and a half, give or take,” he told you.

“What? Do they have any idea who’s doing it?” you inquired, eyes widening.

“Well, my friends and I know. It’s an interdimensional shape-shifting alien that feeds off fear and mostly takes the shape of a clown named Pennywise,” the kid informed. His tone was so natural and blank that you thought he was joking.

“Ha ha, asshole. Be serious.” You shoved his shoulder, laughing, but he didn’t laugh back. “Oh, my God, you are serious. That sounds like some shit out-”

“Of a horror movie, yeah,” he finished with you. “But it’s real. And we defeated IT.” You could practically hear the capitalization in his voice.

“Holy shit,” you cursed under your breath. “How’d you do it?”

“Stopped giving IT fear,” he explained. “Took away IT’s food source and sent IT down the well.” You looked at him and noticed tears in his eyes and a tremble in his body. You wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

“You wanna talk about it?” you asked. He nodded and you listened as he rambled on about Pennywise and the Losers and Neibolt and a werewolf. When he finished, tears were streaming down his face.

“I don’t wanna fight it again in 27 years,” he sobbed into your shoulder, clenching and unclenching his bandaged hand.

“Look, uh. “You stumbled as you realized you didn’t know his name.

“Richie. Richie Tozier,” he introduced, sticking out his uninjured hand. You shook it.

“Y/N Y/L/N,” you stated. “Anyway. Look, Richie, from what you’ve told me, I don’t think IT’ll come back. I think you guys defeated IT.”

“You willing to bet money on that notion, Y/N?” Richie goaded, smirking.

“50 bucks seems fair, Richie Tozier,” you challenged, sticking out your hand again.

“Fair indeed, Y/N Y/L/N.” You two shook on it. Richie’s watch beeped and he checked the time. “Shit. I’m gonna be late. C’mon, Y/N! We’ll figure out the yo-yos when we get there!” Richie pulled you up and dragged you off in the opposite direction of home. You followed willingly and ended up at the edge of a hill, looking down into what you’d heard the locals call “the Quarry”. There was a group of kids sitting at the bottom of the hill. Richie waved to them, then started down the hill. He lost his footing and fell. taking you with him by your tangled yo-yo strings. You both tumbled, head over heels and side over side, down the hill until you got to the bottom. Somehow, seemingly impossibly, the yo-yo strings had become even more knotted up, trapping you and Richie together by your wrists.

“Well, that was exciting!” you exclaimed, sitting up.

“Let’s do it again!” Richie also exclaimed. You looked over and noticed a slight crack in his glasses, which sat askew on his face. You laughed and pulled a leaf from his hair, also readjusting his glasses.

“Are you guys okay?” a boy with curly hair asked.

“I think I bit my tongue. Is it bleeding?” Richie asked you, sticking out his tongue. You leaned forward to examine it.

“Not really. Am I bleeding?” You stuck your arms out toward him like Frankenstein’s Monster. You noticed there was a small stick embedded in your arm about four inches from your wrist.

“Holy shit!” Richie cursed, grabbing your arm. The boy behind him, short with brown hair and eyes, looked over Richie’s shoulder.

“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God,” he chanted frantically, grabbing at an inhaler and using it. You instantly knew who he was based on Richie’s story.

“You must be Eddie.”

“Yeah. That’s me,” he confirmed. “Who are you?”

“Y/N Y/L/N,” you introduced. “I’d shake your hand, but Richie said you’re a germophobe.”

“What else did he tell you?”

“That doesn’t matter right now, Eddie,” the curly-haired boy quipped. “We need to get that stick out of Y/N’s arm before it gets infected.”

“Thanks, Stan-Man, but I’ve got it.” You pulled the stick from your arm and tossed it into the water. Your arm started to bleed and you placed a thumb over it. “You got any bandaids in that fanny pack of yours, Eds?” you asked. Eddie just stared at you with a look of pure shock and disgust. Stan snapped his fingers in Eddie’s face.

“Focus, Eddie. She’s bleeding out over here.” Eddie flashed back to reality and dug around in his fanny pack until he located a bandaid. He also grabbed out a pack of wet wipes and moved to kneel in front of you.

“I’m gonna clean your arm off so your cut doesn’t get infected,” he explained. You nodded, just wanting to get it over with. Eddie scrubbed at the dirt on and around your contusion and you watched, barely wincing at all. Once the area was cleaned to Eddie’s liking, he unwrapped the bandaid and placed it gently, yet securely, on your arm.

“Thanks, Eds,” you expressed, pressing a kiss yo his cheek. Eddie blushed and Richie squawked offendedly.

“Hey! I saw Y/N first!” he declared. “She’s gonna be my future wife!” You laughed and gripped his hand, the one entangled with yours.

“That’s cute, but we just met. I don’t even know your middle name,” you told him jokingly.

“It’s Wentworth. After my dad,” Richie responded.

“Richie Wentworth Tozier,” you repeated, tasting the name on your tongue. “Cool.”

“Thanks. Now! Dr. K! Fix us up, will ya!” Richie shouted in what you assumed was supposed to be a British Voice. You giggled.

“Richie, shut up,” Eddie groaned. “I’m getting to it. Mike, you’re good with string and knots. Think you can untangle Trashmouth from the innocent bystander unlucky enough as to be wrapped up with him?”

“Hey!” Richie protested, but Eddie and Mike ignored him. Mike examined the knot.

“Yeah. This is easy to undo,” he told Eddie, starting on the string.

“Richie was right. You are as handsome as a magazine man,” you affirmed, winking. Mike blushed and focused back on the knot.

“H-how much d-d-did you t-tell her R-Richie?” asked a kid with auburn hair.

“Relax, Big Bill. I’m great at keeping secrets,” you assured. “Besides, who’s gonna believe me? My mom gets one word about a child-eating, interdimensional, shape-shifting alien and she locks me in the loony bin for brain evals.” All the others looked at Richie in shock and Richie looked sheepish.

“I had to tell someone. Besides, she asked and I needed someone to cry on,” he defended with a shrug.

“He cried?” Stan asked, looking to you.

“He cried,” you affirmed. “Soaked my shirt pretty well.” The others looked between you and Richie skeptically.

“What? I’m a sensitive guy!” Richie protested. Stan snorted.

“Yeah. The resident Trashmouth is a sensitive guy. Mike, you almost got that knot undone?” he asked. Mike gave one more tug and the strings separated, falling from your now red wrists. “You and Richie both rubbed at the abrasions, happy to be apart.

“Thanks, Mikey.” You kissed his cheek as well, earning another squawk from Richie and a slight gasp from Stan.

“It’s like you’re trying to make me jealous,” Richie exclaimed.

“Maybe I am,” you answered teasingly, smirking at him. He squawked again and crossed his arms, turning away from you childishly.

“Uncross your arms, you dope. I need to fix up your wounds,” Eddie scolded, pulling at Richie’s arm. Richie huffed and held his arms out for Eddie to look at. The boy made quick work of cleaning Richie’s arms and face, but when he got even close to the cuts, Richie whimpered and cringed away.

“Stop being a baby and woman up,” you scoffed, earning you a cheer from Beverly. You smiled at her. Richie looked at you with pure surprise and something like love. When Eddie had finished patching Richie up, he did the same thing to you, muttering to himself the whole time. You didn’t flinch, just sat stock still as Eddie bandaged your cuts.

“Perfect. You’re all done, Y/N,” Eddie told you, putting the wet wipes and bandaid wrappers in a plastic bag to throw away later.

“Thanks, Eds.” You kissed his cheek again and he reddened, mumbling a “you’re welcome” as he zipped his fanny pack. You looked at your watch and cursed. “Shit. I gotta go. See you tomorrow?”

“W-we hang o-out a-ah-hat eight every d-day,” Bill told you.

“Cool.” You started to leave, but turned back. “Hey, Rich?”

“Hmm?” he asked, looking up from a cartoon-printed bandaid. You cupped the sides of his face and planted a lingering kiss to his lips. He kissed back, loosely draping his arms over your shoulders. You pulled back and smiled at him.

“Thanks for making this town not boring,” you whispered.

“Anytime,” he replied. You turned and left, calling over your shoulder as you did.

“Pick me up tomorrow at eight by the bench!”

***

You hung out with the Losers all summer and beyond. You either swam or hing out at the Quarry most of the summer. When school started, you saw them almost as much, though it was mostly studying in either the clubhouse or one of your houses and complaining about homework and teachers. You and Richie got closer, seeing as after the kiss, you both decided to date. You went on your dates mostly at the arcade and you beat him in Street Fighter, though sometimes you let him win. In high school, you grew even closer to him; you were each other’s first in the backseat of his shitty car on his seventeenth birthday. You watched the other Losers pair off: Ben and Bev, Mike and Stan, and Bill and a girl from his class named Nicole. You figured Bill and Nicole wouldn’t last, as they were going to schools on near opposite sides of the country and Bill was too flighty to be tied down by a long distance relationship. You and Richie, however, were going to the same school; you finally got to go to California and you were happy your boyfriend was going with you.

“So, wait, is Eddie-Spaghetti the only one still single?” Richie asked one day as you all were sitting in the clubhouse; you and Richie sharing the hammock.

“Leave him alone, Rich,” you scolded, noticing Eddie’s red cheeks. About a month ago, Eddie had confided in you about his boyfriend of one year, saying he’d needed the clubhouse for a “special anniversary gift”. He didn’t know how you’d react and had started crying, scared you’d laugh at him or tell the other Losers or even his mother he was  gay. Instead, you’d puled him into your arms and assured him you’d find a way to keep the others out of the clubhouse for as long as he’d need. He’d promised to call you when he was done, just so you’d know. You’d invited the Losers to your house that afternoon for games and Eddie had politely declined, saying he had bunches of homework. He’d smiled at you and you’d smiled back; your own secret language. When he’d called later that night, you’d listened while he talked about what had happened(sparing certain details) throughout the night.

“I’m just saying. It’s senior year and we’ve all found someone,” Richie piped, bringing you out of your thoughts. “Maybe we can set Eddie-Spaghetti up, too. I know a few girls who might be his type.”

“You clearly don’t know my type, then, Trashmouth,” Eddie snipped. The other Losers looked at him.

“Wait, Eddie are you-” Stan was cut off by Richie.

“C’mon, Eds. You don’t even know what they look like,” he started. “You gotta at least see the cover before you judge.” Eddie huffed and stood up, brushing off his shorts and climbing out of the clubhouse.

“Don’t call me Eds, asshole,” he grumbled.

“What’d I say?” Richie asked, looking to you. You just climbed out of the hammock, using Richie as a balance, and left. As you passed him, Stan looked up at you.

“He’s...?” He gestured to Mike and himself subtly. You nodded and bent to kiss his cheek.

“Yeah. He is,” you confirmed. You kissed Mike’s cheek as well before climbing out of the clubhouse. You found Eddie just a few feet away, sat on the ground with his knees to his chest. Before you could even get a word in, he spoke.

“He’s just so oblivious sometimes.”

“I know,” you replied, sitting next to him. “He is my boyfriend, after all.”

“I’m sorry about that,” Eddie joked. You both laughed for a moment before settling.

“You know, Richie’s the only one who didn’t understand your comment, but the others aren’t gonna say anything until you tell them,” you reminded him.

“I guess I’ve just been scared about coming out to people I know. My mom would flip if she knew I’m gay,” Eddie admitted.

“I know, hon. But we’re not like that. You remember when Stan and Mike came out?”

“Yeah. Stan started crying and we all hugged him,” Eddie recalled.

“So what makes you think we’ll do anything less for you. Eddie?” you questioned. Eddied bottom lip quivered as he thought it over and tears dripped down his rosy cheeks. You cooed and pulled him into a hug. Other than maybe Beverly, you were the most protective of the whole group. They were like your kids and crying kids needed comfort. You ran your fingers through Eddie’s soft, brown hair and shushed him gently. Once his tears stopped flowing and his body stopped shaking, he pulled away and looked at you.

“Thanks, Y/N,” he expressed.

“No problem, Eds. You ready?” He nodded and took your hand when you offered it for him to stand up. You led the way back into the clubhouse and Eddie stopped at the bottom of the ladder.

“You guys, I have something to tell you,” he spoke, attracting the attention of the Losers. You climbed back into the hammock and pinched Richie when he opened his mouth.

“Go on, Eds. We’re listening,” you said, smiling at Eddie. Eddie smiled back and took a deep breath.

“I’m gay!” he blurted, starting to ramble. “I’ve known I’m gay for ten years and I have a boyfriend named Nick and I really like him and I really don’t want you guys to hate me.” Tears streaked down his face again and he crossed his arms over his chest, curling in on himself. Beverly stood up from her place in Ben’s lap and rushed over to hug him. The others weren’t far behind.

“Oh, honey, it’s okay,” Bev soothed, smoothing down Eddie’s hair. Richie was sitting stock still, mouth open slightly.

“Close your mouth, babe. You look like a fish,” you told him, pecking the corner of his mouth. That seemed to resonate, because he blinked himself out of his stupor, turning to look at you.

“You knew?” he asked incredulously.

“Yeah. He needed my help to get you guys out of the clubhouse for the day so he could bring his boyfriend here,” you explained.

“Is that why there were candles down here and the place smelled like apples?” You nodded. “What’d they do?” You zipped and locked your lips, throwing away the key.

“I am sworn to secrecy, Richie Tozier,” you replied. Richie smirked.

“I know how to unzip those lips, Y/N Y/L/N,” he teased, leaning forward and capturing your lips. He continued that way until your back hit the hammock and he was between your legs, one hand pressed to your midsection to keep you in place.

“G-g-gross, you g-guys,” Bill chimed.

“Yeah. Get a room,” Stan added. Richie picked you up and you immediately wrapped your legs around his waist. He clambered out of the hammock awkwardly and carried you out of the clubhouse, stopping at the bottom of the ladder first.

“Congrats, Eds. You’re super brave for coming out,” he praised. “But I gotta get a secret out of this one.” He lifted you slightly and you giggled. Needless to say, he tried, but your lips were sealed(about the secret; not much else, though).

***

When IT returned 27 years after you’d first met Richie, you two were married. You still vaguely remembered the Losers, as Derry’s full power didn’t work on you. It was the middle of the day when you got the call and everything came back.

“Y/N, it’s Mike from Derry,” Mike introduced himself.

“Mike, hey. How’s Stan? You two still together?” you greeted.

“Yeah. We are. He’s fine. He’s an accountant here in Derry and I’m the librarian,” Mike told you. There was something in his voice that worried you.

“I’m guessing you didn’t call after 20 years just to chat about jobs with an old friend?” you remarked, wanting to get to the point.

“No, it’s not,” Mike replied. “Is Richie there with you, Y/N?”

“He’s at work, but I can call him, too,” you told Mike, already dialing Richie’s number to add to the call. He picked up on the third ring.

“What’s up, babe? I’m in the middle of a show, but it’s on commercial, so I’ve got a few,” he greeted you.

“Rich, Mike from Derry’s here, too,” you told your husband. “He has some news, baby.”

“Okay.” Richie sounded skeptical. “What’s up?”

“Guys, IT’s back,” Mike said and again you could hear the capitalization in his voice. Your breath hitched and you nearly dropped the phone.

“I really should’ve bet more on that,” Richie joked and you laughed slightly.

“Yeah. I thought IT was dead, Mikey,” you stated.

“So did I. But the killings have started again. They started with the murder of Adrien Mellon and there have been several others so far. We’ve got to kill IT for real this time,” Mike responded.

“Richie, baby are you okay?” you inquired of your husband. After his joke, you only knew he was there because of his heavy breathing.

“Y-yeah. We’ll be there, Mike,” Richie panted. “I gotta get back to the show.” With that, Richie hung up.

“We’ll be there by tomorrow, Mikey,” you told Mike. “Give my best to Stanny.” You hung up as well and started to pack bags for you and Richie and booked the soonest flight for after Richie would get home. When you got to Derry, memories came flooding back to you at once: the bench where you and Richie had first met, the Quarry, your old house, everything. When you saw Bev, you saw her bruises and her shaky way of talking about her so-called “wonderful husband”. You pulled her into the girls’ bathroom.

“Bev, I know you’re lying,” you told her. “Tom isn’t a good husband.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Y/N,” Bev protested.

“Look, Bev. I can see the bruises on your arms. The boys can, too, but they’re not gonna say anything,” you countered. Bev sighed heavily, tears dripping down her face.

“I don’t know. I married someone who treats me how I deserve,” she admitted.

“Bevvy, I’m calling bullshit on that. There’s a good man out there who’ll treat you like you really deserve: a goddamned princess,” you refuted. Bev gave you a confused look. “Ben, hon. He’s been in love with you since we were eleven. January Embers.”

“I thought Bill wrote that poem,” Bev gasped you shook your head. Bev smiled, hugged you, and left the bathroom. You smiled and then dragged in Stan. He looked very uncomfortable.

“Stan, I know you have concerns about facing IT again,” you started. Stan cringed.

“What makes you say that?” he asked.

“First of all, you cringe when anyone even starts to mention IT.” Another cringe. “And you’ve been so nervous you haven’t eaten. So go home, take a calm, warm shower, and don’t worry about us. We’ll be fine,” you instructed.

“But what are you gonna tell Mike and the others?” Stan inquired.

“I’ll tell them the truth: I’m taking your place. Now, send Eddie in, please. We need to talk, too.” A minute later, Eddie was in front of you, looking just as uncomfortable as Stan, if not more.

“What’s up, Y/N?” he asked, eyes shifting awkwardly.

“You’re gay,” you told him, ignoring his squawk. “You’re gay, so why did you marry a woman?”

“I.” Eddie paused, unsure. “I don’t know,” he finally admitted.

“Exactly. And do I even need to bring up the fact that you basically married your mom?” you pointed out. Eddie shook his head.

“What do I do?” he questioned.

“Break up with her and live with us,” you offered. “Don’t go back after this, just send her the papers. We’ll take care of you.”

“Thank you, Y/N.” Eddie hugged you tightly.

“No problem, baby boy.”

You defeated IT for good this time and everyone survived and moved into the same neighborhood as you and Richie were in. Bill finally finished a novel properly, Ben and Bev got married and had two kids, Stan and Mike adopted, and Eddie married a man named Tyler and adopted a Pomeranian, which freaked Richie out at first. All in all, life was good and everyone got the ending they deserved.

@gracelynns, I hope you liked it! Feel free to request anything else, I love writing for y’all!

[bts-ficrecs]

So I’ve read quite a lot of stories ever since my re-entering the fanfic community (after 3420 years) and I’ve reblogged a lot of them to remember and recommend as well. And of course, like with all things, there are some special ones that slithered their way into the crevices of my heart. These are the stories that my mind comes back to every once in a while. These are the stories that made me laugh, cry, yell, and blush - all times 3000. Yes I went there. Cry with me.

These are the stories I hold dear :“) I hope anyone who happens upon this post enjoys the stories I listed below just as much as I did (and still do).

I will update whenever I find a new favorite!! :”) Also be forewarned, there are over 40 fics under the cut 😅😂❤

➢ Butterfingers by @seokkbuns ⠀ ✎ Summary: He had you at the very first pebble he gave you. ⠀ ▸ fluff, hybrid AU, teacher AU ⠀⸙ notes: i. swear. to. glob. this. is. the. most. ADORABLE. STORY YOU WILL EVER READ !!!!!!!111111 I am absolutely smitten and refuse to shut up about it!!! Just. GO READ IT!!!! Cute and clumsy teacher!! Who loves kids!! I just cannot deal.

➢ Duck and Cover by @versigny ⠀✎ Summary: There were two things you never dreamed would become your biggest worries with your new job: Kim Namjoon, and that god damn camera. ⠀ ▸ fluff, idol AU ⠀⸙ notes: absolute fluff. minor angst. secret relationships~~ ooh la la

➢ For All The Petals by @rosaetae ⠀✎ Summary: A story in which you met him in the spring, fell in love with him in the summer, but he left you in autumn and how you missed him in the winter. ⠀⠀▸ angst ⠀⸙ notes: AUHGHHAKJGRL you don't know how many tears i spilled reading this. does soft heart ache even exist???!? like. it wasn't a punch-in-your-gut kind of attack but more like a i’ll-tell-you-i-love-you-every-day-and-then-disappear-forever like of attack..... hahahaha wow now that i think about it, that hurts even more than a punch in the gut. lmao. good luck with the emotions when you read this!

➢ Intro: Her by @jamaisjoons​ ⠀✎ Summary: You enter Namjoon’s life in the most unexpected of ways, but will you be able to stay, especially when he comes with three adorable but chaotic children, even more chaotic best friends and a bitch of an ex-wife? Not to mention your own emotional baggage. ⠀⠀▸ fluff, angst, smut, ongoing series ⠀⸙ notes: I fell in love with the characters and the story line so fast. And so will you.

➢ Obligated by @underthejoon ⠀✎ Summary: Married by obligation, weighed down by circumstance. Except for those nights when you’re both drunk, falling into bed with one another and realizing you’re human. Occasionally this happens, occasionally you fuck. Until your life changes and you realize Namjoon, the very man you’re obligated to, might just be the very man that you crave. ⠀⠀▸ angst, smut, fluff, arranged marriage AU

➢ Out of The Ordinary by @njhsmoon ⠀✎ Summary: One of your mage students is extremely gifted and her human father is beyond overwhelmed so you take it upon yourself to tutor her outside of school. ⠀⠀▸ fluff, mage AU, teacher AU, single parent AU ⠀⸙ notes: SOBS. I JUST. I LOVE THIS TOO MUCH. can you imagine a human Namjoon extremely overwhElmed with his magical little girl with no one to help him!! and then a magical woman teacher appears and! saves the day!! and his life!! askjfaef YO UWILL LOVE THIS I RPOMISE YOU. OK OK ALSO THERE’S A DRABBLE FOR THIS CUTE ASS FIC!!! READ IT!!!!!

➢ Pages of Petals by @sodoyouknowbts ⠀✎ Summary: A change in the weather stirs a sweet encounter between a florist and a bookshop owner, where one begins to learn the language of flowers. ⠀⠀▸ fluff ⠀⸙ notes: soft namjoon + flowers. what more could you ask for? asaskdjflka <333333

➢ The Take Home Test by @versigny ⠀✎ Summary: In which your mission to deliver homework to Kim Namjoon goes very, very, wrong. ⠀⠀⠀➥ 3 extra drabbles ⠀⠀▸ dirty smut, college AU ⠀⸙ notes: IT'S DIRTY. BEWARE THE ARMPITS.

➢ Through the Phone by @imaginethisbts ⠀✎ Summary: The sexual frustration is real when Namjoon goes on a month long business trip, halfway across the world. So when the chips are down and the tides get rough, and you can’t actually get to one another… what do you do? You go to the next best thing of course - phone sex. ⠀⠀▸ smut, smidgen of fluff ⠀⸙ notes: i’ll just say one thing. and that is that i love it when random moments of fluffy romance happens after the dirty :”)

➢ Tigerboy by @joonbird​ ⠀✎ Summary: You, a docile rabbit hybrid, have been waiting a long time to meet the mysterious tiger hybrid, Kim Namjoon. ⠀⠀▸ smut, hybrid AU

➢ Try Me by @jjkfire​ ⠀✎ Summary: You wanted nothing more than to leave behind your old self when you graduated from high school and moved on to college to play rugby but when you see your high school classmate, resident fuckboy and captain, Kim Namjoon, at the rugby department orientation, you feel like everything might fall apart. ⠀⠀▸ fluff, rugby AU, ongoing series

➢ By Your Side by @sodoyouknowbts ⠀✎ Summary: Jin is somewhat arrogant, overly confident and a tease. All the things you find infuriating in a man and he also happens to be your roommate. It’s a wonder how you two can live together without killing each other…but it’s not like you’re anything more than friends. Right? ⠀⠀▸ fluff, angst, smut, roommate AU, complete series ⠀⸙ notes: UM. this was so incredibly amazing and heart wrenching and frustrating to read. hahahaha. the friendship dynamic that changed over time throughout this series was incredible to read. both characters had a lot of growing up to do and grow up they did. i enjoyed every moment of it.

➢ Edge of Tomorrow by @thedefinitionofbts​

⠀✎ Summary: No matter the amount of rain that falls, what the unrelenting darkness erases, or how many times we are reverted back to the past, I’ll definitely save you. ⠀⠀▸ angst

➢ Ephemeral by @donewithjeon ⠀✎ Summary: As your eyes fluttered open, you were met with a familiar white ceiling and the sound of steady beeping coming from beside you. A quick scan of the surroundings confirmed your suspicions—you were in a hospital room. ⠀⠀▸ ANGST, patient AU ⠀⸙ notes: I almost never reread things much less sob each time that I do. I wish I was exaggerating lmao this fic makes me such a crybaby. It's great. I love pain <|:o)))) [insert clown meme]

➢ Let Me Be Yours by @glassbangtan​ ⠀✎ Summary: How did people just get into relationships? Friends getting married at such young ages, inviting you to weddings left, right and centre – it definitely left room for you to feel like shit about your own love life. After getting stood up, you decide to treat yourself – and it is during this coping-shopping spree that you come across a fellow lonely person like yourself, Kim Seokjin. ⠀⠀▸ angst, fluff ⠀⸙ notes: This fic just... hits a different way than all the others listed here. I relate a lot to this story. That’s all I can really say. This is special to me.

➢ Long Live The King by @remembeo​ ⠀✎ Summary: Long live the King, and may he reign forever more. ⠀⠀▸ smut, angst, fluff, fantasy AU, prince AU

➢ Off Limits by @floralseokjin ⠀✎ Summary: You’ve been lusting after your brother’s best friend for a while now, ever since you met him at a house party, flirting it up a storm as you failed to realise who the other was. That was months ago now and things are still awkward, but you can’t ignore the sexual tension that’s simmers between the two of you…and it keeps getting worse… ⠀⠀▸ smut, angst, fluff, complete series ⠀⸙ notes: you want PAIN? you want NASTY? you want FUZZIES? this series has got it ALL i tell you!!!!! adfhklafh yeah. i . yeah. do yourself a favor and just read it.

➢ Sehnsucht by @johobi​ ⠀✎ Summary: An embarrassing run-in with your new boss is only the start of your destructive infatuation. ⠀⠀▸ smut ⠀⸙ notes: W H E W !!!!!111 

➢ Seven Seconds in Heaven by @jimlingss ⠀✎ Summary: In the moment of your death, Heaven drops the hammer of punishment; making him travel back in time to relive memories that can never be changed. Seven memories. Seven minutes in each. Seven seconds before they are ripped away. ⠀⠀▸ angst, fluff, little bit of smut ⠀⸙ notes: WOW. YEAH. TALK ABOUT GETTING A SECOND CHANCE AT LIFE. UUMMMM. I don't want to say anything else in case I spill the beans so I'll leave it at that. Read it.

➢ The Leather Loafers by @jimlingss ⠀✎ Summary: Yes. You went to the ball. Yes. You ran into the prince. Yes. The shoe fits. BUT-! You aren’t that Cinderella bitch. THEY’VE GOT THE WRONG PERSON! ⠀⠀▸ fluff, Cinderella AU ⠀⸙ notes: yeah...there's some crack involved but c'mon. it's Jin we're talking about. minor angst. Great adventure :")) 

  ➢ Untimely Confessions by @jjungkooked ⠀✎ Summary: Your friendly neighbor finds his way into your (very unsocial) heart. ⠀⠀▸ fluff, neighbor AU ⠀⸙ notes: CUTE NEIGHBOR AU WHat more can I say TTT0TTT

➢ Untitled by @oh-hey-tae ⠀✎ Summary: It's been a week since you last talked, three since you saw him in person. You miss him terribly... so you call him despite your nerves. ⠀⠀▸ fluff ⠀⸙ notes: when i first read this, i was in incredible need for a soft jin fic. and this was it. this is it. an incredibly soft jin fic. giving him. ALL. THE. LOVE. HE. DESERVES.

➢ Burn by @dreamscript ⠀✎ Summary: Love is a powerful force; You and Yoongi defy nature itself and burn down the barriers. ⠀⠀▸ angst, fantasy AU ⠀⸙ notes: don't let the short length mistake you into thinking it's not gonna hurt. because. it's. gonna. HURT .

➢ Cobalt and Charcoal by @tayegi​ ⠀✎ Summary: In just ten minutes, he has ruined everything that you and Yoongi have worked for in the past year. It's terrifying to realize that a stranger could have such an impact on you so quickly... except he's no stranger. He's your other half. The only person who will ever own your heart. ⠀⠀▸ smut, angst, soulmate AU, feat. Jungkook

➢ Intoxicating by @versigny ⠀✎ Summary: You go clubbing and get drunk to spite your annoying, stonecold roommate. ⠀⠀▸ angsty fluff, roommate AU ⠀⸙ notes: se xual  tens ion + drunken mistakes. that's all i gotta say.

➢ Jilt by @taesthetes​ ⠀✎ Summary: Forever was only temporary. ⠀⠀▸ angst ⠀⸙ notes: don’t underestimate short fics. 

➢ Koi No Yokan by @oh-hey-tae ⠀✎ Summary: The boy on the bus could work on his bedside manners. ⠀⠀▸ fluff, idol AU ⠀⸙ notes: discovering this fic was an absolute MIRACLE. i swear to glob. i'm so glad i went hunting for this fic after finding out the person i originally read it from was an imposter. and then i got to shower the true writer with loving words. and this story definitely deserves so many loving words.

➢ Miss Dial by @versigny ⠀✎ Summary: [11:31] You: okay so i’m texting you now like I promised instead of drunktexting yoongi and telling him how badly i want his cock tonight. Arent you proud? [11:32] unknown number: this is yoongi, hi ⠀⠀▸ smut, fluff, university AU, ongoing series ⠀⸙ notes: //CCOOUGGHHSSS// THIS. This is the fic. My baby. I'm so freaking attached. This. Is the story that basically started it all for me. I had only just started dipping my toes back into the world of fanfics when I encountered this. And wow did I get pulled in so quickly. It holds title for many firsts. I have so much affection for this series and I will for sure shed a lot of tears when it ends. My forever favorite. I love you Kappy and Nat for having brought this to life.

➢ Monochrome by @chimchimicorn ⠀✎ Summary: The world is black and white until you meet your true love. ⠀⠀▸ angst, soulmate AU ⠀⸙ notes: this is not a Tumblr fic but a story posted on ARMY Amino (ARA). No worries, you don’t need an account to read it! ⠀⸙ notes: it will hurt. 

➢ Play With Me by @thatonegirl ⠀✎ Summary: Your world is breaking and you and Yoongi struggle to push through the pain. ⠀⠀▸ angst ⠀⸙ notes: another story found on ARA

➢ Please Be Naked by @floralseokjin​ ⠀✎ Summary: You find it’s easy to become addicted to a distraction… ⠀⠀▸ smut, angst, fluff, complete series

➢ Candy Hearts by @puppetwritings​ ⠀✎ Summary: He starts dropping candy hearts on your desk. ⠀⠀▸ fluff

➢ Delicate by @bluesxde ⠀✎ Summary: After being effectively dumped by your fuck-buddy, your attention is unexpectedly drawn towards your womanizing friend and fellow dance major, Hoseok. ⠀⠀▸ smut, angst, fluff, college AU, fuckboy/fuckgirl AU, friends with benefits AU ⠀⸙ extra notes: what a ride. *wink wonk* i loved on this story so much. i have a weak spot for fwb!AUs. and y/n constantly trying to! pull! him! in! and! him! constantly! trying! to! resist! the danger. the fun. spicy~ i love this story so very much.

➢ Fetish by @versigny ⠀✎ Summary: Hoseok is the sweetest boyfriend. Even in bed. But you want him to be more dominant. So you tell him. ⠀⠀▸ fluffy smut ⠀⸙ extra notes: the fluff is so overpowering I barely paid attention to the sex. But the sex was still great 👀

➢ Misconceptions by @yoongihime​ ⠀✎ Summary: In which your roommate bails out on you last minute and you’re forced to share an apartment with this gorgeous a f human but, no worries, he’ll never see you that way… right? ⠀⠀▸ fluff ⠀⸙ notes: s e x u a l  t e n s i o n .

➢ Transference by @jeonjagiya ⠀✎ Summary: During a routine visit to the local bakery, you stumble upon an intriguing business card and figure, what the hell. ⠀⠀▸ smut, angst, therapist AU, complete series ⠀⸙ extra notes: the Hoseok series that took BTS Tumblr by storm, lol. And for good reason!! The character development!! The rawness and vulnerability from both characters! The naughty goodness! Just wowowow, a great Hoseok series that definitely deserves the hype it received :')))

➢ Written on Our Veins by @army-author ⠀✎ Summary: You and Hoseok are sick of spending the holidays soulmate-less while your friends enjoy Christmas as couples… tired of waiting for fate to make a move, you decide to take matters into your own hands. ⠀⠀▸ fluff, angst, soulmate AU, complete series ⠀⸙ extra notes: if you want a story that will give you lovely feels and then RIP IT AWAY FROM YOU only to give it back (with extra goodies), this is the story for you :") I absolutely enjoyed watching Hoseok and Y/N get themselves into what they thought would be innocent fun for the holidays only to find out that maybe... it wasn’t such a good idea... but maybe it was? :”)))))

➢ Azure Blue by @jimlingss ⠀✎ Summary: You set off on a journey only to be joined by Jimin: the boy with elegant, azure blue wings. ⠀⠀▸ fluff

➢ Beneath the Water by @jungshookz ⠀✎ Summary: His legs were sparkling. You looked up from his face slowly and towards his legs, your head tilting in confusion when you were met with the sight of… well, it certainly wasn’t a pair of legs. What the fuck? ⠀⠀▸ fluff, smidgen of smut, mermaid AU ⠀⸙ extra notes: I think this was my first mermaid AU?@?@?@ but oh my goossshhhhh asdfj;alje yeah. that’s all I can really say. I’m in love with mermaid Jimin. I thirst for morrre from this AU afaaa;kls don’t mind me as I spazz all over my keyboard once more :’))))

➢ Cordially, Jimin by @kpopfanfictrash​ ⠀✎ Summary: When you start work in your new office, the last thing you expect is a distraction. Especially not one as cute, witty and impossible to handle as Park Jimin. A story told through correspondence. ⠀⠀▸ fluff

➢ Desires by @nightbts​ ⠀✎ Summary: It wasn’t your place to worry for him, you shouldn’t, it wasn’t good for you. But since the day you saw him that hurt, you couldn’t help it. ⠀⠀▸ angst, fluff, bad boy AU ⠀⸙ notes:

➢ The Blue Notebooks by @inktae ⠀✎ Summary: You meet Park Jimin after a particularly rough landing. ⠀⠀▸ angst, fluff, time traveler AU ⠀⸙ extra notes: I didn't think a fanfic could affect me so much. Even now as I write this, without having to reread to refresh my mind, my heart thumps painfully. It feels like I only read this a few days ago. It's one of those stories that doesn't rip your entire heart out in one go but slowly tears a few slivers out and continues to do so even when you're done reading. The pain is never ending. No, no one dies. No, there isn't an ugly break up. It's one of those "what if" stories. To me, anyway. I can't reveal anything more or else I'll spill the story lol I don't know what's up with this fic. But I'm never ok when I think about this story. My rambling doesn't do this story justice. Just read it.

➢ Away From the Sun by @inktae ⠀✎ Summary: You leave your home in search of your brother.. in search of answers.. but you end up making a slight detour. ⠀⠀▸ angst, fluff, soulmate AU ⠀⸙ extra notes: this was. a. journey. i kid you not. 20k story. i lived every moment of this - that's how good the story is. i felt the respect and fondness y/n felt for the eccentric taehyung. i felt the confusion of the "what next?" phase in y/n's life. i felt that hard. an amazing story beyond romance.

➢ Amaranthine by @rainwards​ ⠀✎ Summary: In which the sun loved the moon so much that it died every night just to let it breathe. ⠀⠀▸ angst, reincarnation AU ⠀⸙ notes: :-)))))))))))))) don’t read if you donut wanna be SAd.

➢ Give Me Your Hands (I Will Pick the Stars for You) by mindheist ⠀✎ Summary: I miss you like the moon misses the sun, destined to chase you until the end of time. ⠀⠀▸ angst, historical fantasy AU, feat. Jungkook ⠀⸙ notes: ur heart will heart. i can promise u that.

➢ laser tag AU by @kpopfanfictrash ⠀✎ Summary: You go laser tagging with the boys and come face to face with Taehyung. ⠀⠀▸ s e x u a l  t e n s i o n but it's PG ⠀⸙ extra notes: I have never been so invested in a drabble I swear. The amount of times I've fantasized about this lasertag!Taehyung and Y/N's story is almost embarrassing to admit, hahaha.

➢ Rent-A-Boyfriend by @jimlingss ⠀✎ Summary: Are YOU lonely? Need someone to cuddle at night? Do you want love? If you said ‘yes’ to any of the questions previously mentioned then we have a service for you! RENT-A-BOYFRIEND TODAY! ⠀⠀▸ F L U F F

➢ Seoksanhwa by @gukyi​ ⠀✎ Summary: May you keep your friends close and your enemies closer. Watch your back, keep to the wall. Always be ready to attack. Do not let your guard down, for it will be the last thing you ever do. The game of love is cruel and treacherous, the obstacles high and the stakes even higher, and the royal family never did play fair.  ⠀⠀▸ fluff, angst, smut, prince AU, joseon AU ⠀⸙ notes: r u ready to cry ur fcking eyes out :-)

➢ Song of Sunrise by Fable ⠀✎ Summary: Late at night, as dawn started painting the horizon, a night elf was running, his thin silhouette shining in the moonlight, the sound of his light steps resonating in the leaves of the silent, silent trees. That elf’s name was Tae. And Tae was heartbroken. ⠀⠀▸ fluffy angst, fantasy AU ⠀⠀▸ platonic Taehyung x Jimin ⠀⸙ extra notes: another story on ARA

➢ All's Fair by @goldenscript ⠀✎ Summary: Sometimes people can surprise you and do absurdly kind things, even the ones you least expect… even your rival, Jeon Jungkook. ⠀⠀▸ fluff, enemies to lovers AU, baseball AU ⠀⸙ extra notes: this fic made me blush a whole lot. just a lot of wholesome fluff. :")

➢ A Piece of the Moonlight by @jimlingss ⠀✎ Summary: For your loved ones, the people who are waiting at home, the people who have died - you will fight. And sometimes to fight means to sacrifice: who you really are and the person you really love. ⠀⠀▸ ANGST, mulan AU ⠀⸙ extra notes: this is the fic that led me to KNOW WITH STRONG CONVICTION that there are some fanfic writers who are unbelievably talented way beyond the world fanfics and deserve so so much joy and success if they decide to pursue writing as a career. This is it. This is one of them. If ((((jimlingss)))) ever decided to make this into a full fledged book with her own OCs, there's no doubt it'll be even more A M A Z I N G than it already is. I just love this story so much. It moved me to tears. And not just tears -- but legit ugly crying. Do yourself a favor and read this masterpiece.

➢ baby!Jeon drabble series by @an-exotic-writer ⠀✎ Summary: A series of drabbles and scenarios about (Not-So-)Baby Jungkook, his 6 older brothers, and you. ⠀⠀▸ F L U F F !!!!!! ⠀⸙ extra notes: 6 GROWN MEN. 1 GROWN WOMAN. 1 LITTLE BABY. SO MUCH FLUFF. AFJALEJGAJFAE. 60k+. this is 2 years worth of writing, y’all. so much fluff. so much luv.

➢ Blue Orchids by @inktae ⠀✎ Summary: You were eighteen years old when Jimin’s name showed up on your hand. ⠀⠀▸ angst, fluff, implied smut, hanahaki AU, soulmate AU

➢ Date in a Box by @jimlingss ⠀✎ Summary: If you’re in a hurry then we’re here to help you! Everything you need in a box. Delivery less than five minutes. Upgrade and we can personalize your date even more! Guaranteed 100%! Don’t fret, we’re here. ⠀⠀▸ F L U F F !

➢ Heat Wave by @iq-biased​ ⠀✎ Summary: The air conditioner breaks during the hottest week of summer and you have to figure out how to stay cool. ⠀⠀▸ smut, fluff, roommate AU ⠀⸙ notes: the title is accurately named bc reading this will definitely make you warm. very warm.

➢ Five Dates by @kpopfanfictrash ⠀✎ Summary: “Ten dates,” he nods, smile tugging at his lips. “Ten dates, to decide if you want this – want me – or want me to go. Ten dates to get to know me. Ten dates,” he says, oddly soft, “to fall in love with me.” ⠀⠀▸ fluff, smut

➢ Hiraeth by @thedefinitionofbts ⠀✎ Summary: We are always yearning for someone, even if that person may not exist in this tangible realm. ⠀⠀▸ fluff, angst, smut, college AU, soulmate AU

➢ Human Error by @gardentulips ⠀✎ Summary: Jungkook is your latest creation, and so much more... ⠀⠀▸ fluff, angst, robot AU

➢ Mamihlapinatapai by @tayegi ⠀✎ Summary: You reunite with an old flame. ⠀⠀▸ angst ⠀⸙ extra notes: it's not a happy story. i'm sorry. but it is a definitely good painful story. so i'm not sorry.

➢ Orange Tulips by @kainks ⠀✎ Summary: You’d remember Jungkook with every life you lived. Only he’d never remember you, never recall how your fates were written in the stars since the beginning of time. ⠀⠀▸ angst, fluff, smut, soulmate AU, reincarnation AU

➢ The Swirling Ways of Stars by @inktae ⠀✎ Summary: He feels like the thrill of the unknown and the unexplored, like that hesitant feeling of a new sensation under your fingertips. He’s like the first taste of a newly discovered flavor, one that hits your tongue and quickly spreads through your body from head to toe. ⠀⠀▸ angst, fluff, fantasy AU

➢ Tea and Ice Cream by @blackcatkuroi ⠀✎ Summary: It’s the small moments that truly shine. ⠀⠀▸ platonic OT7 ⠀⠀▸ fluff ⠀⸙ extra notes: another story on ARA. Super cute story that briefly illustrates the close bond between these guys.

Random notes: (cause I just LOVE to blab even when no one cares hahahaha) 1. Not surprising that JK has the most, lol. People just love writing him... and I'm okay with that :"))) I am surprised by the amount of Namjoon fics though, I didn't think it'd be that many! I guess I'm lowkey Namjoon biased................. no scratch that. I'm SO Namjoon biased. Lmao. 3. I realized quickly on that I'm very picky about Taehyung fics I read thus I have few Taehyung favorites :"( I need more. Also I really need to read more Hoseok and Jimin fics. Also I'm whipped for Yoongi. What can I say. He my Master 4ever. And of course I read a lot of Jin fics considering he is my UB, so I have a lot of favorites :"))) 4. Haven't read found very many OT7 fics. I would very much like to find more stories that explore their amazing brotherhood/bond!!