#but at least my ma and my aunt are willing to help me as i figure shit out. im lucky to have them | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

liesyousoldme · 3 years

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the last WIP of eddie month! i saved the longest for last (it’s over 11k words lmao) and hopefully you all enjoy it even though it’s forever unfinished. this was meant to be my big bang fic and then life happened and i was never able to finish it - it even has a few plot points outlined at the end (but even those don’t take you to the actual end of the story, oop). anyway, happy eddie month everyone!

this was a fun experiment in which i combined my favorite parts of each canon - book, miniseries, and movies - into one weird amalgamation that probably only makes sense to me. there is canon-typical violence, homophobia including slurs (henry bowers), and mentions of suicide (stan lives, but it was close).

“Eddie?”

He groaned out loud, turning his computer monitor off and turning in his desk chair.

“Yeah, Ma?” He shouted.

“Eddie come down here, please,” she said, her voice traveling up the stairs. He rolled his eyes and left the home office and found her standing at the bottom of the stairs. He stood on the landing at the top, looking down at her. “Down here, Eddie.”

He fought the urge to roll his eyes again as he took the stairs two at a time.

“Eddie, stop that! You know how dangerous that is! What if you fell and broke a leg? You know how easily bone fragments travel, Eddie, you know –“

“Yeah, Ma, I know,” he answered, ignoring her demand. “What is it?”

“I wanted to let you know you have plans on Friday evening,” she told him, beady eyes staring into his own. He walked past her, squeezing by to get through the hallway and into the kitchen. It was about time for dinner anyway, he told himself, might as well make something while he was here.

“And what plans would those be, Ma?” He asked, assuming he had to take her to bingo or the pharmacy or the emergency room.

“You’ll be taking Vicky Beck to dinner.”

He turned to look at her, eyebrow raised. “Who?”

“Vicky Beck, dear,” she repeated, as if saying the name again would stoke the embers of his memory. He just looked at her blankly. She sighed, annoyance radiating off of her as she plopped down into a chair at the kitchen table. “She’s Marjorie’s daughter, Eddie. Very nice girl. Around your age, too. She’s a receptionist at one of the local doctor’s offices. I gave Marjorie a photograph of you to show her – she’s very interested.”

“No,” he said without making eye contact. He used the excuse of taking out ingredients for dinner from the pantry and refrigerator to not look at her. “I’ve told you so many times, Ma, I don’t want to date. I’m not interested.”

“Oh, Eddie,” she frowned. “I just worry! Who’s going to take care of you when I’m gone? Your health is so delicate, someone needs to be there –“

“I’m an adult, I can take care of myself,” he told her, pouring tomato sauce from a can into a pan.

“Clearly you aren’t if you think it’s okay to use canned sauce, young man!” Sonia said, standing and smacking his hand. He huffed, putting his hands up and stepping away. “You don’t even know what’s in the disgusting preservatives they use, this stuff is full of chemicals, you’ll get cancer if you eat too much of this. I’ve told you so many times to stop buying things like this. You think you’re an adult but you don’t know, you need someone to steer you right, you make terrible decisions when no one’s around to stop you…”

“Buying canned sauce is a terrible decision? I’m the one that pays for the groceries, Ma! I should get to choose what I buy!”

She glared at him. “Edward, I’m not in the mood for your foolishness. When you stop purchasing cancer and bringing it into our home then we can talk. In the meantime, you will be going out with Vicky Beck on Friday evening. You’re too old to be alone, Eddie. My own health is beginning to falter, you’re going to need someone to take my place when I pass.”

He blinked at her. “You want me to find a woman to be my new mother when you die?”

“Do not use that tone with me, young man!”

“I’m 20, I hardly think I need to be taken care of by a surrogate mom!”

“Eddie,” she said, placing a sweaty hand on his cheek. He could smell the stench of her perfume and he did his best not to wrinkle his nose. “You have always been so… strong-willed. So full of ideas. And that would be okay, were you not sick. But you are sick, Eddie. Your delicate immune system can’t handle what others can… I’ve spent your whole life making sure you don’t go too far, to get yourself sick or hurt. And that’s what I’m doing now, with Vicky. I’m protecting you, because you need protection. No matter how hard you try to fight it, it’s the truth. So. You will see Vicky on Friday, take her to an early lunch after church on Sunday, another dinner next Wednesday, and she’ll be your girlfriend in a week’s time.”

He knew his horror was evident on his face but he couldn’t do anything to stop it. “That’s ridiculous, Ma, you can’t pick out a girlfriend for me! I don’t even want a girlfriend! And you know, just because I have asthma doesn’t mean I need protection from the big bad world, okay? I take my meds and I use my inhaler and that’s all I need! I don’t even need you! All you do is smother me, and force me into things I don’t want, so –“

“You stop that right now –“

“You know what?” He said, a burst of adrenaline-fueled courage shooting through him. He left the kitchen and started back up the stairs. “I’m leaving. I can’t stand it here anymore.”

“Eddie!” She screamed, and he knew the crocodile tears were starting. He ignored them as he grabbed a suitcase and began to pack everything that would fit.

Twenty-six year old Eddie Kaspbrak answered his phone, wincing when his mother’s voice came through the tinny speaker.

“Eddie? Eddie!”

“Yes, Ma, it’s me,” he said, barely containing his annoyance.

“Eddie you have to come home,” she said, sniffling. “I’ve been put in a wheelchair, Eddie, I can’t get around like I used to. I need help, you need to come home and help me.”

He sighed, massaging his temples as he felt a stress headache blooming behind his eyes. He eyed the medicine cabinet in the kitchen that held the Advil. “I’ll hire an in-house nurse, Ma, how’s that?”

“No!” She shouted, leaving him cringing. “Those nurses don’t know what they’re doing, Eddie, they’re the rejects that the hospitals and doctors offices won’t take, and I refuse it!”

He looked around his small house. He had a spare bedroom downstairs, and he supposed it wouldn’t be too difficult to add a ramp to get through the front door. With a little bit of self-hatred settling in his stomach, he said, “I’m not coming home, but you can come live with me.”

“You’re 32, right?” Angela asked, her fingers running through the condensation on her glass. Eddie nodded, only thinking about how disgusting it was that she wasn't using a straw. (Dishes and silverware and cups at restaurants are breeding grounds for disease, Eddie, his mind mother reminded him.) “So what are you doing living with your mom?”

He huffed. “My mom lives with me, there’s a difference.”

Angela raised an eyebrow at him.

“I take care of her. She’s old and sick, she needs help with just about everything.”

“You know…” Angela trailed off, glancing around the room. They sat in a small booth in the corner of an Olive Garden only twenty minutes from Eddie’s house. He wasn’t about to pull out all the stops for a date with yet another girl his mother set him up with. “You’re not a very good date.”

His eyes widened. “Excuse me?”

She laughed a little. “I mean, sure, you’re cute, but… Nobody wants to date a guy in his thirties who lives with his mom. You probably should save that bit of information until like, date three, at least. You won’t look me in the eye, and it makes me a little nervous because you don't seem to have a problem making eye contact with anyone else. Everything about your body language screams that you don’t want to be here. With me, specifically.”

“Do you do this on all your first dates?” He asked, offended.

“Just the bad ones,” she answered. “You know, the ones with men.”

He choked.

“Oh, come on, dude, look at me,” she said, gesturing to herself. Eddie frowned; he thought her flannel and boots looked comfortable. “This look is about as gay as you can get. My mom can’t accept it; she's constantly setting me up. Usually I tell her no but she showed me a picture of you and… well, I just had to find out what your deal is.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” He asked. His face was hot.

“Eddie,” she said in a voice meant for a young child. “Your mom has a lot in common with my mom. I mean, I hate to assume, but I can almost guarantee that, just like mine, your mom is sending you on dates with the opposite sex as a very clear nudge in the right direction.”

He gaped at her, unable to form words.

She laughed, but this time it was a bit more sympathetic. “Did you not know?”

He shook his head, then reached into his pocket to take a hit on his aspirator. She raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment.

“Well, whether you are or aren’t, your mom thinks you’re gay.”

“Fuck,” he whispered to himself, heart pounding against his ribcage. “I don’t – what? Why?”

“I mean, you’re a single 32 year old, for starters. I’m assuming you’ve never had a girlfriend. Had any boyfriends you kept secret? She probably would’ve caught on.”

“I’m not – I’m not –“ He couldn’t bring himself to say the word. Angela’s expression was changing quickly from one of amusement to one of pity. She opened her mouth to say something when the waiter stopped at their table, placing their food in front of them. They began to eat in silence (Eddie had already sanitized his knife and fork), and when they started to talk again, neither of them brought it back up.

There weren’t enough people for a funeral so instead they had a simple graveside memorial service in the Bangor Cemetery. One of his aunts spoke through crocodile tears so much like hers about what a good mother Sonia had been, and Eddie’s eyes stayed dry.

After, he met his three aunts at a café for a small lunch, and they got onto him when he didn’t order salad. They got onto him because he didn’t cry during the service. They got onto him for constantly keeping his poor mother in a state of such stress. They got onto him for leaving her for New York in the first place. They got onto him for not being married at 35, for not giving his mother grandchildren before she died.

He nodded and kept his mouth closed.

There was a method to his madness, he’d swear by it. Vitamins in the morning, followed by an anxiety pill if he needed one (he always needed one), followed by breakfast, which usually consisted of eggs (he enjoyed variety, so he made his eggs differently each day of the week – Wednesday was scrambled) and wheat toast with margarine spread on one side, the crusts cut off (the crusts are too easy to choke on, his mother’s voice said from inside his head), and then brushing his teeth. He got dressed, checked his email and the weather on his phone (a sunny day, cloud-free (but you never know, storms can just crop up out of no where – best bring your boots and rain jacket and umbrella just in case, you wouldn’t want to catch a cold and end up with pneumonia just because the weather forecast was wrong) and cool), and stepped out the door of his Queens apartment.

He walked to his stop and got on the subway, used an antibacterial wipe to clean the place where his hand would be holding onto the rail (his mind mother reminded him how easy it was to catch something that way – all you have to do is rub your nose, Eddie, and suddenly you’re sick with whatever the germ-infested subway rider that stood there before you had), and held onto his phone for the 30 minute ride. He exited at the financial district and walked for 2 minutes to his office building. He used the stairs to get to the eleventh floor (take the elevator, Eddie, you don’t want to aggravate your asthma) because he liked the slight burn in his legs by the time he made it to his floor. He stopped in the bathroom to wash his hands (you have to wash your hands, Eddie, you have to), said hello to Brianne at the front desk, and sat in the chair in front of his computer in his cubicle.

The work day tended to be boring. He spent a lot of time typing up reports, and even more time responding to emails. By his lunch break, he usually felt as though his brain was going to melt out of his ears. He popped two Advil to stave off the oncoming stress headache.

He ate lunch with his co-workers – they walked together a few blocks to a deli that made great sandwiches, and though he sat with them he didn’t talk much. In the beginning he fielded a lot of questions he didn’t want to answer, but after fifteen years they knew not to ask.

Except Daniel, who had started two weeks prior.

“So, Eddie,” he said, as they sat in the break room. He gestured at Eddie’s left hand. “I see you’re not married.”

“No,” Eddie agreed, taking a bite of sandwich. He hoped it would send a solid shut the fuck up message, but Daniel kept on.

“No? You got a girlfriend, at least? You’re what – 45?”

“40,” he said, his voice clipped.

“You’re 40 and not married? That’s rough man, what’s up with that?”

Eddie breathed in deeply, hand patting his pocket to feel for his aspirator. “Just never met the right person, I suppose.”

“Not even divorced?” Daniel asked, his voice getting higher with incredulity. Eddie bristled; it felt very much like he was being made fun of, but he didn’t know what to say. It reminded him of childhood bullies, calling him names before he even knew what they meant. He'd always talked back to - well, to whoever his tormentor had been back then. Now his brain wouldn't supply him with any quippy response, any thinly veiled insult. How had he been so brazen as a kid and so timid now? He tried but he couldn't even remember much of his childhood, like everything before he was 18 and living in Bangor with his mom had a thick haze covering it.

“Never married, no girlfriend,” he said plainly, unable to come up with anything better. He looked away.

“Boyfriend, then?” Daniel said. Eddie’s stomach turned and he flushed.

“I’m single, Daniel,” he said, before wrapping what was left of his sandwich (almost all of it) and standing. “I’m going to have lunch at my desk today, if you don’t mind.”

He didn’t wait for an answer before leaving the room, ignoring Daniel’s exclamations of “I wasn’t trying to upset him!”

He sat at his desk, fuming. He could hear the voice of someone he’d been out with once, laughing in his head.

Your mom thinks you’re gay.

But he wasn’t. And it wasn’t that strange for someone to be 40 and single. He knew plenty of people his age that weren’t married! Granted, most of them were divorced, but the point stood. Marriage wasn’t everything. Love wasn’t everything. He’d made it on his own for 40 years, and besides that he wasn’t interested in anyone. Couldn’t remember ever liking anyone enough to do anything about it. He could recognize when women were attractive, but it didn’t go beyond that. Can’t a man live alone with no romantic relationship and not get shit for it?

“Hey, Eddie,” said a voice from behind him. He spun in his chair. Jeanine stood there, a regretful frown on her red lips. “I’m so sorry about Daniel back there. Apparently he’s the type that doesn’t know when to shut up.”

(Your mom thinks you’re gay)

“A lot of that going around,” Eddie said, trying to ignore the voice in his head telling him to ask Jeanine out. He couldn’t even tell if it was his mother or someone else. It wasn’t his own voice, though.

Jeanine smiled awkwardly, like she wasn’t sure what he meant. “Right. Hopefully you’ll still eat with us tomorrow. We told Daniel to cool it.”

“No worries,” Eddie lied. “I needed to get some work done anyway.”

Jeanine glanced over his shoulder at his computer that he hadn’t turned back on. “Of course. And I wanted to let you know… This office is very accepting. There’s no… Judgment here. Just… So you know.”

Eddie pulled his aspirator from his pocket and took a hit.

(You’re sick, Eddie, you’re delicate, but I can protect you from yourself, a wife could protect you from yourself, you’ll always be sick but)

“Thank you for the sentiment, Jeanine,” he said, turning back in his chair. He heard her walk away and sagged against the backrest. Moments later, his phone rang.

He picked it up and frowned at the area code. Derry, Maine? He was… He was from there, wasn’t he? That was where he’d lived with his mother before they moved to Bangor. Derry was the town covered with thick haze that he couldn't completely conceptualize.

He answered the call with his heart in his throat, unsure why his hands were shaking so badly.

“Edward Kaspbrak speaking.”

“Eddie?” The voice said. He didn’t recognize it. “Eddie, it’s Mike. You need to come home. It’s back.”

The haze began to lift.

“I’m glad you made it, Eddie,” Mike said, offering a hug. Eddie warily wrapped his arms around Mike before glancing around the restaurant.

“If I’d remembered more before I got on the plane, I probably wouldn’t have,” he said honestly. Once he started getting flashes of a rotting leper, of a decrepit house, of a clown’s drool on his face, he wanted to turn right back around.

“How much do you remember?” Mike asked.

Just before he could answer, another voice joined them.

“Hey, guys.” Eddie turned and smiled. He would recognize Bill Denbrough anywhere (though he hadn't, had he? He owned his books, had seen his picture on the back cover, and he'd never thought twice about it). He stepped away after another hug, letting the other two catch up. He stood looking into the large fish tank, anything to get a reprieve from the memories that were hitting him, and then jumped when something hit the large gong next to their table. He spun, his eyes catching on red hair first. Beverly was smiling, and another man stood next to her, tall and thin and handsome, and somehow Eddie knew it was –

“Ben?”

“That was my reaction!” Beverly said with a laugh.

“You acknowledge Ben before you acknowledge me? Some kind of best friend you are, Eds.”

“Don’t call me Eds,” he said, the words spilling from his mouth without thought. He looked to Richie, wearing an ugly mustard color shirt beneath a leather jacket. He wore glasses much like the ones he’d worn in childhood, though they magnified his eyes a little less, and his hair was messy. He'd seen Richie's face, too, on a Netflix special he'd felt oddly compelled to watch. “You actually became a comedian.”

Richie’s cheeks turned pink and he took a few steps closer, hands in his pockets.

“I mean,” Eddie continued, “It’s not ventriloquism but not half-bad!”

Richie laughed loudly, his head thrown back. “Fuck, even I forgot I wanted to be a ventriloquist!”

“You would’ve made a terrible ventriloquist, Rich. Eddie was just too nice to tell you.”

They turned at the new voice, smiling at the curly hair and sweater.

“Stanley!”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said through a smile. After Eddie felt like he’d hugged everyone twice, they took their seats. He sat between Richie and Ben, right across from Bill. Stan was on Richie’s other side, already talking about his accounting firm and his wife Patty.

“She sounds lovely,” Beverly said with a smile.

“You’re not married?” He asked, pointing to her left hand.

She frowned, touching her ring finger. “Uh, technically I am. I guess I kind of… left him?”

Eddie’s eyes widened.

Beverly shrugged, waving them off. “It’s fine! What about everyone else? Anyone else married?”

“I am,” Bill said. “Her name’s Audra; you guys would probably recognize her if you saw her –“

“Oh shit, she’s that movie star!” Richie said loudly. “And you’re an author, I’ve totally bought your books before, dude!”

“I have, too,” Eddie admitted. He hadn’t known why he bought them at the time, but it had felt like something he needed to do. He thought he might even own a jacket from Rogue & Marsh.

“Nobody else is married? What about you, Ben?”

“No,” Ben said, cheeks pink.

“But dude, you’re so hot, how are you single?” Richie said, punching a shocked laugh from Eddie’s chest.

Ben rolled his eyes playfully. “I mean, I’m not lonely by any means –“

Richie cut him off to whoop loudly.

“Anyway, what about you, Trashmouth?”

“Nope!”

“Divorce?” Bill asked with a smirk.

“I’m offended, Big Bill. No, no divorce. Haven’t had a serious relationship in… probably fifteen years. Kinda hard to hold anything down when you’re touring all the time.”

“Makes sense,” Beverly agreed, before her eyes met Eddie’s. He groaned. “What about you, Eddie?”

“Uh, no marriage, no divorce, very boring. Next.”

“No way, Eds, you can’t get off the hook that easy!” Richie exclaimed. “C’mon, when was your last relationship?”

Eddie looked down at the table. “Haven’t really had one. I was never really interested.”

The table had quieted, like Eddie had dropped a blanket of discomfort on all of them.

“It’s not a big deal,” he said, finally looking back up. He could feel Richie’s eyes burning a hole in the side of his head but he didn’t look. “I like living alone. I have friends at work and I always have nice chats with the pharmacist and... Look, it’s not like I’m lonely, okay? It’s fine. I’m fine.”

The conversation moved on quickly, Eddie’s discomfort obvious to everyone. Richie kept looking at him as though he were a puzzle, and as soon as the waitress returned to their table Eddie ordered himself a shot of whiskey and a bottle of beer, not even thinking about the fact that he would be drinking straight from the glass and don't you know, Eddie, dishes and silverware and cups at restaurants are a breeding ground for germs! Now that he'd remembered his asthma was fake, his aspirator a placebo, he felt like he could count the hours wasted on sanitization and worry about his delicate system. It made him boil with anger, that she had taken so much from him while giving him so many issues. He didn't want to waste more time. His system was fine.

The night was long and draining, as much a reunion as it was a horror show. He was almost positive he remembered everything now, as did the others, and Mike claimed to have a plan. For now, though, they had some time to sleep. No point in heading into Neibolt exhausted, Bill had said with a shrug, and everyone had agreed. Eddie was finding it hard to sleep, though, with images of the leper running through his mind -

I’ll blow you for free

- And leaving him terrified and shaking. He thought back to being a kid, the same fear had kept him up at night then, too. He remembered talking to Richie about it as they read comics in the room above the Kaspbrak house garage, and Richie admitting he was having trouble sleeping, too. Kept seeing the werewolf, his own name written on It’s letterman jacket.

He turned the bedside lamp on and picked up the phone without bothering to sanitize it even as his mind mother screamed at him. He looked at the directory and tried to remember which room was Richie’s. He was almost positive it was 207, one floor down and one over from his own, so he dialed the extension and waited. As the ringing sounded in his ear, someone knocked heavily on his door.

His heart seized up in his chest and he grabbed his aspirator from the side table and took a hit, even though he knew it was a placebo.

“Who is it?”

“Eddie Kaspbrak?” A male voice from just outside the door said. “There’s an urgent message for you at the front desk.”

“Hello?” Richie’s sleepy voice said in his ear. He sighed in relief, not answering him yet.

“A message from who?” He asked loudly.

“What are you talking about – Eddie?”

“A message from… Your wife,” the voice said, and Eddie froze.

“Uh, one second,” he said to the person on the other side of the door, then lowered his voice and spoke into the phone. “Rich, someone’s at my door saying I have a message from my wife.”

“You don’t have a wife,” Richie said, confused.

Eddie huffed. “Yeah, exactly!”

“Oh, fuck,” Richie said, and Eddie could hear shuffling on his end of the phone. Then, another noise, somehow both quiet and the loudest thing he’d ever heard. He watched with wide eyes as the lock on his door turned slowly until it clicked.

He opened his mouth to tell Richie whoever it was at his door had a key and to hurry the fuck up, but the line was beeping like Richie had already hung up. Slowly, he shoved the blankets off, putting his feet securely on the floor. He glanced around for something he could use to defend himself. A lamp? The phone? Why the fuck hadn’t he brought a knife or a gun to this clown fight?

The door slammed open, hitting the wall and revealing a man in a tattered jumpsuit. He had a knife in his hand.

Panic seized Eddie’s chest. The irrational part of his brain wanted to grab his aspirator for another puff but he knew it would be his last, so instead, without thinking it through, he charged forward as fast as he could, throwing his weight against the door as it bounced off the wall and back toward the man.

Both men screamed. Eddie out of pure adrenaline and fear, some part of him wondering why the fuck he’d done that, and the other man because his foot and arm were smashed in between the door and the frame. Eddie kept his weight against the door knowing he didn’t have a lot of time; he didn’t weigh much, and this guy seemed particularly strong. He looked at the hand holding the knife, the small rivulets of blood dripping where the edge of the door had cut into the skin, and he grabbed a hold of it with both hands, trying to pry meaty fingers from the handle without cutting himself.

He didn’t manage it before the man pushed back with his own full body weight, throwing Eddie to the ground. He landed with a muted thud on his back and the man pushed into the room, spotting Eddie immediately. In the brief eye contact, Eddie realized with certain clarity that this man was Henry Bowers.

Henry Bowers, who had held him down and broken his arm with his bare hands. Henry Bowers, who had punched him in the nose more times than he could count. Henry Bowers, who had beaten Richie up again and again, who had mocked Bill’s stutter and Stan’s religion. Henry Bowers, who left even Beverly, the strongest of them, trembling. Henry Bowers, who had killed Mike’s dog.

Eddie’s eyes flitted to the knife in his hand and a chill ran down his spine. Just yesterday he couldn't remember this man's name, but he remembered he used to fight back.

As a kid, he fought back against Henry Bowers, who somehow had the same knife he’d used to carved Ben open, the same knife with which he’d murdered his own father.

Henry lunged at Eddie, still on the floor. He kicked upward, one foot landing in the soft pudge of Henry’s stomach, the other his groin. Henry didn’t seem to notice, which left Eddie feeling terrified – what if this wasn’t Henry at all? What if this was something much, much worse?

“How ya doin’, little queer boy?” Henry asked, his voice hardly having changed at all. “Ready to get all cut up? Teach you to throw rocks!”

Eddie kept his foot wedged against Henry’s stomach, though the weight of him was causing a steady throb down his leg. Moving quickly, he pulled his other foot back and kicked again, this time aiming for the hand with the knife. Henry seemed taken off guard but he didn’t drop the knife, just leaned more of his weight onto Eddie’s leg. He cried out, giving in and planting his other foot against Henry’s stomach to hold him back. Henry didn’t seem to mind that he was leaning all his weight against Eddie’s feet, hovering over him like a ghost.

“Not quite strong enough, are ya, fag?”

Eddie grimaced - the first time Henry called him that, he hadn't even known what a fag was.

Henry brought the knife closer, almost able to reach Eddie’s face. With fear stronger than he’d felt in a long time thrumming through his veins, he grabbed Henry’s wrist with both hands, pushing him back. He let his fingernails dig into the place where the door had cut him, and Henry screamed, finally dropping the knife. Eddie glanced to his left and saw it, and with one hand still gripping into Henry’s wounded arm he reached over and grabbed it, plunging it upward into Henry’s chest just above where his feet held him up.

Henry’s eyes widened and Eddie sobbed as blood dripped onto his hand where he held the handle of the knife. He yanked it back out but Henry had become dead weight and his legs crumbled beneath it. He yelled, and then heard another voice.

“What the fuck!”

“Rich, help,” he said, hardly able to breathe under Henry’s weight. He was still wriggling, but Eddie kept a tight grip on the knife. Then Henry’s weight was being lifted a bit and Eddie helped, shoving until he landed on his back next to Eddie, blood seeping into the front of his shirt. Eddie stabbed again, but Henry caught the blow with his hand, and Eddie screamed as the blade sliced through the rough palm. Henry stared up at him, with a look that Eddie could almost describe as confused.

“Eds, Eds, what’s –“

“It’s Bowers,” he shouted, finally gathering the nerve to rip the knife out of Henry’s hand. Henry yelled and swung, smacking Eddie in the side and knocking the breath out of him. His uninjured hand came at him curled in a fist and managed to land on his eye. He stumbled backward a little on his knees, eyes closed against the blow, and without looking plunged the knife down again. Henry’s shrill scream and Richie’s Jesus fucking Christ oh my God oh my God let him know whatever he hit wasn't pretty but it wasn’t enough to be fatal.

A final time, he lifted the knife and opened his eyes. Henry’s face was covered in gushing blood, what was left of his eyeball hanging out of the socket. Eddie felt the Chinese food he’d eaten threaten to make a reappearance. From the corner of his eye he saw Henry’s arm begin to move and he flinched, not ready for another hit, but then Richie’s foot slammed the hand into the ground and Eddie plunged the knife back into Henry’s chest, over what he was pretty sure was his heart.

He pulled the knife out and threw it on the ground. It slid across the floor and stopped beneath the TV stand. Eddie pulled himself off of Henry, uncaring if he was still alive; if he was, Richie could deal with it. His own head spun, pain radiated down his legs, and his eye socket throbbed. He fell onto the bed with his eyes closed. For a moment he only heard the slight noise of movement from Richie, and then:

“Holy fuck, dude, you fucking killed him.”

Eddie let out a long breath of relief before saying, “don’t say it like that. It was self-defense.”

“Well obviously,” Richie agreed, and then threw up. The sound and smell made Eddie’s stomach turn again, and he leaned over the bed, grabbed the wastebasket, and lost his own dinner.

They had migrated to Richie's room, after a brief talk with the rest of the losers to inform them of what happened. Everyone was appropriately horrified and offered to come sit with them for the rest of the night, but Eddie insisted he just wanted to sleep and he wanted to do it in a room without a dead body. Richie had offered his own, promising to keep quiet so Eddie could get some rest.

Eddie had been unable to sleep, though. By the rigidness of Richie beside him, he was sure he wasn't the only one.

"So what's it like, being famous?" He said quietly into the darkness. He felt Richie jolt and he apologized with a laugh.

"No, it's fine, uh," Richie sighed. Eddie felt the comforter jostle like he was resituating himself. "I dunno, honestly. Kind of boring? I mean, don't get me wrong, in the early days I partied a lot. Slept around, got into things I shouldn't have. But… being clean and telling jokes you didn't even write? Kinda shit, not gonna lie."

"God, I fucking knew you didn't write your own shit," Eddie said. "I don't even know how I knew, but I'd watch all your stupid specials and like, be annoyed at myself because this guy is so obviously a fraud, why the fuck do I religiously watch everything he puts out?"

"Could have been my charming good looks," Richie joked, and Eddie felt his cheeks heat up.

"Definitely not that," Eddie said with a hollow laugh. "Apparently somehow I just knew you were my best friend and I was pissed because I know you're so much funnier than the shit you say onstage."

"Oh," Richie said. Eddie squeezed his eyes shut. He didn't know how to fucking do this. How do you have conversations with people that aren't too much but don't feel like fucking small talk? Richie was his best friend once upon a time, would've been his best friend their whole lives if Derry hadn't fucked them up.

But would they have been? Would they have been best friends if they'd grown up together? Navigated their early twenties together? Would he have dropped Richie the second he got into whatever shit he got into in LA? Would Richie have dropped him when he realized Eddie was fucking boring, with a desk job and a mother he couldn't escape? Would he have been just another person shoving him on dates with girls he didn't want to date? Another person asking why he wasn't married yet? Another person to think -

Your mom thinks you're gay.

He bit his lip. He couldn't think about that right now, not when their literal lives were on the line. He'd been putting off his sexuality crisis for years, it could wait another 24 hours.

Because that's what it was, and he knew it. He remembered the feelings from being a kid. He remembered the swooping sensation in his stomach, the blushing, the constant need to be the center of Richie's attention. He didn't think he knew what it was back then, but now? Now he knew what all those things meant. He knew what they meant when he felt them sitting next to Richie at dinner, and now, laying next to him in bed.

But that was for a later date, if he even made it to a later date.

All Eddie could hear in the room was the whirr of the air conditioner, Richie's breathing right next to him, and his own heart pounding in his ears. He closed his eyes, willing himself to relax enough to even doze, but the quiet was broken when Richie cleared his throat.

"Yeah?" Eddie asked, when Richie didn't follow up with anymore sounds.

"I just - " He sighed. "You remember how we thought… When we were kids… That some of our power, or whatever, came from the lucky seven? None of us could have hurt It on our own but we could together, and we worked together and we all loved each other and looked out for each other."

"Yeah, I remember that."

"I don't feel like we're the lucky seven anymore," Richie admitted. Eddie didn't know what to say. "We're not… Together… the way we used to be. We were like one single unit back then. Even with Ben and Bev and Mike, we'd barely met them but they just fit with us. And now we just feel like…"

"Like seven adults who haven't spoken in over 20 years?" Eddie finished for him.

"Yeah." Richie's voice was sad. "We're not kids anymore, you know? And we don't know each other. Eds, I don't think we can even say we're friends anymore."

"That's not true," he argued, turning his head on his pillow to see the outline of Richie's face in the dark. He wasn't wearing his glasses but he was facing the ceiling. Eddie couldn't tell if his eyes were open or closed. "We all fell right back into old habits at dinner! It was like nothing's changed."

"But it has changed!" Richie said, his voice rising a little. Eddie jostled when Richie pushed himself up, sitting on the bed with his head in his hands. Eddie stared at him and chewed on his lip. "God, are you telling me you still act like that as an adult? I can just look at you and tell you're not somebody who trades sarcastic insults with anyone. And I don't still joke about fucking people's mothers and I don't constantly slip into shitty Voices all the time and I don't just fucking make fun of people like an asshole! But we both - we both regressed! Like, some shit happened when we got back together and all of a sudden we were both shitty little teenagers again! All of us! Bill's stutter came back, for fuck's sake! Ben's an awkward fucking mess around Bev, as though that guy isn't swimming in pussy right now -"

"That's fucking gross, Richie," Eddie muttered, pushing himself against the wall.

"I'm just saying," Richie continued, "that we all get along as 13 year olds. Not as the people we are now."

"That's - " Eddie paused and blinked hard, surprised to find his eyes filling with tears. "It's just because that's how we're used to acting with each other. If we all spent time together again I bet we'd end up acting more like who we are now."

Richie scoffed. "Eddie, who you are now would hate who I am now."

"I wouldn't hate you." He reached out hesitantly, rested his hand on Richie's broad back. "Why do you think I'd hate you?"

"You - You hate getting dirty! And you dress like you're ninety, your hair is like, combed, and you've clearly never used a drug in your life. You -"

"I'm gonna stop you, dude." Eddie readjusted himself so he was sitting facing Richie, who's blue eyes were clearer than ever without his glasses on, even in the dark. "The actual regression I experienced was turning back into the person I was before that summer, before I found out about my asthma. The scared kid who carried a fanny pack full of disinfectant wipes became a scared adult who kept disinfectant wipes in his briefcase and Advil in his pocket right next to his aspirator. I have been alone for the last 20 years. And I've wasted so much time being the delicate child my mother wanted me to be. Who I was at 13 is more me than who I am at 40. And I think - I think that's why we all regressed the way we did. Because we were happy together, at 13, and I don't think any of us are happy now."

Richie stayed quiet.

"Well," Eddie amended, "except for Stan. But he acted like an adult as a kid, so I don't think that counts. Anyway, I don't give a shit about what you've done in your past. I lived with my mother until she died in my mid-thirties. I've never had -" He cut himself off, feeling his face heat up. "Never mind. The point is that we are still the same people we were at 13. The people we've been for the last 20 years? That wasn't really us. This is us. Lucky seven."

"Okay," Richie whispered. Eddie ignored the way he swallowed thickly. "I think I - I think I'm just scared. Just going over every single way we could fail. And even - even if you're right about us, how we're all still the same… There's so much about each other we don't know. We don't really know much about how we've each spent the last two decades. Or where we've worked, where we've lived, who we've fucked. It's like we're strangers…"

Eddie cleared his throat, willing his blush to disappear. "Maybe… Okay, this might sound stupid, so if you laugh afterward, I'm giving myself permission to hit you."

Richie snorted. "Alright, go ahead."

"We should find a way for all of us to know each other again. So we're not strangers. We should be the strongest version of the losers club when we go into the sewers, right? Losers club doesn't have secrets. Maybe we - you know, we bond with each other again. By telling each other stuff. You know?"

"Are you saying you want to sit in a circle and tell each other secrets?"

Eddie huffed. "Essentially, yes."

Richie laughed a little but held his hands up in surrender. "I'm not laughing at you! Just - I mean, why not? It couldn't hurt. Maybe we could re-do the blood pact, too?"

Eddie grimaced. "Yeah, Rich, let's physically weaken ourselves before we go fight a demon space alien. That's a super good idea."

"Well you don't have to be mean about it, dickhead."

Eddie laughed and shook his head. "How about, if we all live, we'll -"

"If we all live?! Don't say shit like that man!"

"I've already killed a man, Richie, I don't think death is completely off the table."

"Fuck, you killed a man." Richie sounded awed and a little scared.

"And you were very helpful, by the way." Eddie smirked.

"Listen, Eds, you've always been the brave one, we all know that, Mr. This is Battery Acid."

"I think I called It Fucknuts, too," Eddie recalled. He remembered spraying his aspirator at It, but even still he couldn't picture It clearly. "Do you remember what It looked like? It's real form, not any of the glamours."

Richie paused. "I don't - I don't think so? I just - I remember the eye in the sewers. When we all stood around like idiots and you screamed at us to step the fuck up. But other than that…"

Eddie remembered that, too. He'd lost his shoe in the eye, kicking it and screaming at the others to help him. It almost shocked him, to remember himself as being brave. But he had been. He'd attacked first, both the eye and… Whatever It became, in the end. His aspirator had really hurt It.

"I wonder if we really saw It…" Eddie said. Another memory had hit him, one of Richie holding a baseball bat, of Bill trapped under Pennywise's arm. "I think - I think we hurt It while It was the clown. Maybe that's - maybe part of why It didn't die is because it was still using a glamour. It escaped before we hurt it enough to see the true form."

"That's - I mean, it was weird that Pennywise just bolted…"

"And Richie?" He reached out again, a little more confident, and touched Richie's arm. The contact made his chest clench. "You're brave, too. Don't you remember? Now I'm gonna have to kill this fucking clown."

Richie laughed quietly. "I hadn't remembered that until you said it."

Eddie hadn't remembered the battery acid or the eye until Richie brought them up, either. He wondered if it was because neither of them were the kind of people who looked for the good in themselves, and if there were other things they'd done that they could be proud of and just hadn't remembered yet. He hoped so. He hoped they still had some of that bravery left.

Richie flopped back down, head hitting the pillow as he released a loud sigh. Eddie followed suit, his face warming when he realized Richie had landed closer than he was before. They weren’t touching, but he could feel the heat from Richie’s arm only inches from him.

“We should probably try to sleep before… Well, we should try to sleep.” Richie’s voice had quieted. Eddie could barely hear him over the whirr of the air conditioner. “Goodnight.”

“Night, Rich,” he murmured. He hoped Richie couldn’t hear the fondness in his voice over the sound of the AC. He breathed in deeply and closed his eyes. He was asleep in minutes.

Three short knocks on the door woke Eddie a few hours later. His left side was warm and he mindlessly moved into the heat before his muddled and tired mind remembered it was Richie next to him, still sleeping with breaths so loud it could almost be called a snore. Light poured in through the window so that Eddie could see Richie’s relaxed face, and staring down at the other man distracted him enough that he jolted at the sound of more knocks.

“Rich? Eddie? W-w-wake up, we’re meeting d-d-d-downstairs in twenty!” Bill’s voice drifted through the door and Eddie sighed, sitting up and shaking Richie’s shoulder.

“Mph,” Richie said, rolling away from Eddie.

“Wake up, didn’t you hear Bill?”

“Was ignoring him,” Richie answered bluntly. Eddie rolled his eyes and got up, heading toward the door just as Bill began to knock again.

“Hey,” he said, opening the door to find Bill’s fist mid-air. “We’ll be down soon, but can I talk to you first?”

Bill nodded, and Eddie closed the door behind them.

“Rich and I were talking last night and… Well, we were talking about how we don’t really feel like the lucky seven anymore. We’ve lost some of the connection we had as kids, and that connection is a huge part of why we survived last time. I just think – We think we should do something to bond again, like how we bonded at the Jane but… More. Maybe – Maybe we could go downstairs and just… share things about ourselves. You know, the kind of important things you share with your closest friends.”

Bill’s eyebrows had risen and Eddie bit his lip awkwardly. If Bill didn’t go for it, it wasn’t going to happen, and something in Eddie’s chest told him it needed to happen if they were going to survive.

Finally Bill shrugged. “I m-m-m-mean, it couldn’t hurt.”

“Right,” Eddie agreed. “So… If you could let everyone know what’s going on? We’ll meet you downstairs soon. I’m probably going to have to physically yank Richie out of bed, so…”

Bill nodded. “That’s fine. I’ll see y-y-you down there s-s-soon.”

Eddie thanked him and went back into the room, surprised to see the bed empty and the bathroom door closed. He sighed in relief that Richie had gotten himself up and went to his suitcase to pull out clean clothes. Richie finished in the restroom quickly and they switched, Eddie hurrying through his morning routine and dressing, anxious to get downstairs.

He stepped out of the bathroom without looking up, his pajamas folded in his hands, and after a few steps toward his suitcase he raised his head, confused by the silence.

He swallowed thickly at the sight of Richie standing in the middle of the room in just jeans, the hem of his boxers visible, the trail of hair leading down into his boxers all Eddie could see.

“Sorry,” he choked, looking away as quickly as he could force his head to move, feeling the heat light up his cheeks. He cursed himself in his head, power walking the rest of the way to his suitcase and focusing all his energy on making sure all his things were placed neatly and organized inside, trying not to think about Richie, half-naked, a few feet away.

He could hear Richie clear his throat behind him, but his voice still came out strained. “No worries.”

Eddie nodded without looking up. His hands were clenched into fists.

“Um,” Richie said awkwardly, when Eddie didn’t move. Eddie let out a breath and stood up, turning to face Richie, only to find himself again faced with a bare-chested Richie.

“What the fuck!”

“Sorry!” Richie said, not moving.

“Put your fucking shirt on!”

“Right.”

Richie bent over to reach into his suitcase and Eddie stared with his mouth open at the way the muscles in his arms moved, the way his back arched. He realized as he stared that there was no longer any attempts at denying his sexuality. This was it. He couldn’t look away as Richie pulled a shirt over his head. His cheeks were still hot and he waited for some joke from Richie, something like take a picture, it’ll last longer, or like what you see, Eds?, but Richie remained quiet.

“So,” Eddie said once Richie was fully dressed. “We’re meeting the others downstairs.”

“To share secrets?”

“Shut up,” Eddie said, walking out the door. They could hear the chatter of the others as they headed down stairs, and Eddie realized without surprise they were the last to make it down.

“Hey!” Beverly greeted. “Good thing you’re here, we were about to start without you.”

“Actually we already finished without you,” Stanley said, sly grin on his face. “Guess you guys don’t get to be part of the club anymore.”

"How dare you, Stanley," Richie said, skipping over to plop onto the floor next to Stan's spot on the couch. Beverly and Ben sat on the loveseat while Bill, Mike, and Stan took up the couch. There was a single armchair waiting, empty, between Richie's spot on the floor and Ben and Beverly, and Eddie took his spot.

"We decided Bill will go first," Mike said, and Eddie nodded. It made sense in a way he couldn't explain. Of course Bill would go first. Bill would always go first.

"So," Bill started, then stopped. He cleared his throat and turned his face to the floor. Eddie bit his lip nervously, his heart beginning to beat faster as he waited for Bill's secret. "I wasn't s-sick. The day G-G-G-Georgie died. He - he wanted me to go out and p-p-p-play with him, but I didn't - I didn't want to. It wasn't that I didn't l-l-l-love him, or -"

"It wasn't your fault," Beverly said to him. "Nobody could've known what would happen."

Bill's face was red but he didn't cry. His eyes were resolute as he looked around at each of them. "I feel so g-g-guilty for what I d-d-did. And I feel g-g-g-guilty that I hadn't th-th-thought about G-Georgie in over 20 years."

"Pennywise wiped our memories, man, that's not -"

"I knew I had a l-l-little brother thatd-d- died. I knew his n-n-name, how old he w-was. And it was like… I d-d-didn't care. It d-d-didn't m-m-mean anything. I re-re-re-remembered him and it didn't m-mean anything."

"Fuck that," Richie said suddenly. "Seriously, Bill, fuck that shit. You didn't really remember Georgie, because if you did you would've spent the last 27 years feeling like you feel right now. We all know it. It's not your fault you didn't remember and it's not your fault he died."

"I know you probably don't believe that," Eddie added, "but it's true. None of it was your fault. And you're the one who led us to beat Pennywise the first time. You ended the cycle early, man. You saved lives."

Bill shook his head, still avoiding meeting anyone's eyes. "W-W-We all did that."

"Then maybe we should all get a pat on the back for it," Ben suggested. "We all did something that saved who knows how many lives. We should all - you know, give ourselves credit for it."

Eddie thought back to the night before, discussing all the things with Richie that he hadn't remembered doing. All the moments he was brave, strong, powerful. How he and Richie didn't remember them because they struggled to see their own strength.

"I agree," he said, nodding to Ben. "We all need to give ourselves more credit for what we did. Yeah, It came back, but we stopped it back then. The killings, they stopped. We were all brave as fuck, guys. And we can be brave as fuck again."

"I don't recall being brave as fuck," Stan said quietly. "I only remember being terrified out of my mind."

"That's what being brave is, though," Mike told him. "Doing something even when it scares you. And you're being brave right now, just by being here, Stanley. All of you are. We're all terrified but we're all here, and that, as Eddie so eloquently put it, is brave as fuck."

"Well said." Beverly smiled softly. "You should go next, Mike."

Mike looked surprised for a moment, eyes widening a bit, but he quickly nodded, shuffling in his seat.

"Well," he started, looking around at each of them. "I guess you know I've kept up with each of you, but not - not quite the extent that I've kept up with you. I've read all of Bill's books and seen every movie adaptation. I've seen every television appearance Richie's ever made. I've read every article ever written about Ben. I've driven up to Bangor a few times, to one of those fancy department stores, just to see Bev's clothes in person. Couldn't afford to buy anything, but -"

The group paused as an uncomfortable undercurrent swept through the room. Eddie noticed he wasn't the only one who wouldn't meet Mike's eyes.

"Don't be weird about it," Mike said with a soft sigh. "It is what it is. And this - this tension, this discomfort… That's what Eddie's talking about. To be the Lucky Seven we have to push through what makes us uncomfortable. You guys can't walk on eggshells around me anytime finances come up. We can't walk on eggshells around each other at all. This is the point of this. We've got to share the hard shit, too."

Eddie didn't know what to say, so he kept his mouth shut. He looked up, though, and Mike was giving a comforting smile to them all. Eddie breathed in deeply and let it out slowly as Bill agreed with Mike, and the awkward tension began to dissipate.

"Anyway," Mike continued, "it's been hard to be the one to stay here. I won't lie, there were so many times over the years that I thought about calling one of you. And there were times over the years that I even resented you guys a little, for being able to leave. But this was what I was meant to do. This was my job. I accepted that, and I'm okay with it. I've made my peace with it."

"I'm sorry you had to stay here, Mike," Ben said. Mike just shrugged good-naturedly.

"Well, if we're going to be talking about the uncomfortable shit, maybe I should go next." Eddie raised his eyebrows at the bluntness in Bev's voice. She huffed a short laugh. "I mean - I mentioned leaving my husband at dinner but… There's so much more to it. He - Well. I'll start with - I have one very close friend. Her name's Kay, and I've known her a long time. And it's… it's funny, you know, when someone knows you, how they can see through your bullshit? Kay can see through my bullshit. But she never called me on it. Don't get me wrong, she told me to leave him for years, before we were ever even married, but she never… She had to have known, you know?"

Eddie swallowed thickly as Bev rambled, her voice catching a few times. His hands balled up into fists, a response to the anger that was slowly building inside his chest as Beverly spoke.

"But I'm glad she never brought it up because… I don't know how to talk about it, especially with someone who never met… Well, someone who never met my father. I didn't know how to talk about the shame I feel for running from my abusive father into the arms of an abusive husband. I don't know why I did it. I don't know why I stay."

Tears were dripping down her cheeks now, and Eddie had the urge to reach over and hold her hand, but Ben already had an arm around her shoulders and Stan was clutching her hand.

"Anyway, I - I left him. I had to… He didn't want me to. And part of me is… so fucking scared that I'm going to go right back to him after Derry."

"That's n-not going to h-h-happen, Bev," Bill said quickly, leaning closer to her to put a comforting hand on her knee. "We won't l-let you."

“It shouldn’t be like that. Isn’t it the same thing? Putting my wellbeing in the hands of yet another man? Trusting in you guys to keep me from going? It needs to be my own decision, and it needs to come from my own strength.”

No one spoke for a moment. Eddie watched as Beverly wiped her tears with her free hand. Finally, Ben turned to face her and said, “we won’t make the decision for you, but no matter what you decide we’ll be there to support you. Obviously we all want you to be safe and not go back to him, but no one here is your keeper. We just love you and want the best for you. And if you leave you won’t be alone. We’ll all be there for you.”

The others murmured their agreements and Bev smiled through her tears, thanking them quietly.

"I'll go next," Stan offered, raising his hand a little. "I… Well, I guess I'm sort of Twitter famous? I've got a blue checkmark and everything."

"I'm sorry?" Richie asked, voice rising in pitch. "It took me two years to get a fucking checkmark and they gave one to you?!"

Stanley shrugged. "I had a commercial for my accounting business go viral."

No one said anything. Eddie stared blankly at Stan as though he'd grown a second head.

Stan huffed. "Patty and I made a commercial when I first started the company. We filmed it ourselves because we didn't have money to hire anyone and it was just - it was just me at my desk, and Patty standing next to me. And I'm just talking, you know, about why people should choose me as their accountant. But Patty apparently found it absolutely hilarious because she kept, like, laughing - snorting while I was talking. And in my head I'm thinking, there's no way we're going to use this, this is ridiculous, and I smile at the end - well, Patty says it's a grimace but what's the difference, really? - and Patty, completely unscripted, yells "call Uris Accounting for all your accounting needs!" and then I started laughing. Anyway, she posted it on Facebook without telling me and it went viral -"

"Holy fuck, I've seen that!" Richie yelled, throwing his hands up. "It's - there's a YouTube video, one of those compilations, called 'People Breaking and Laughing on Camera (Almost Entirely Richie Tozier Laughing at His Own Jokes)'! We're in the same compilation YouTube video!"

"You have the name of the video memorized?" Eddie asked. Richie laughed.

"That's terrible news," Stan said. Richie laughed harder. "Anyway, now the company's Twitter has thousands of followers who think my deadpan humor and random observations are hilarious. My actual secret is that I don't actually write any of it - Patty does. She's the funny one but she isn't a big fan of too much attention so people think it's me."

"Aw, it's okay, Stan, Richie doesn't write his jokes, either," Ben said with a grin. Eddie laughed, watching happily as Richie began to yell indignantly.

It took a few minutes for the group to calm down. Eddie sat and soaked it in, trying to ignore the twisting in his gut that told him this lighthearted fun was going to end soon. That they may never get this feeling back again.

"Anyway," Stan said finally. "Patty's very funny. She calls my car The Sedanley."

"Aw," Bev cooed, grinning. "That's cute! You guys sound really happy together."

"We are," Stan agreed, his cheeks pink. "Anyway, who's next? Eddie?"

Eddie's stomach clenched and he bit his lip. He cleared his throat, finding a spot on the floor to stare at so he could avoid the eyes of his friends. This was his idea in the first place, he certainly couldn't back out now.

"Before I say anything, I just want to say I've never told anyone this, and it's… Well, it's quite embarrassing and I'd really appreciate you all not making fun of me."

"W-We'd never m-m-make fun of you," Bill assured him immediately. Eddie gave him an incredulous look. Bill laughed a little. "Okay, f-f-fair enough, we d-definitely would. B-B-But wew- won't! You can t-t-tell us."

"Yeah," Eddie muttered. He took a few deep breaths and opened his mouth. “I’ve never… you know, done it. Like…” His eyes darted around at each of them and his cheeks pinked. He lowered his voice to a whisper, “Sex.”

Stan laughed. “Clearly, if you feel like you have to whisper the word sex.”

“We promised no laughing! Nobody laughed at your stupid Sedanley!”

"Oh, honey," Bev said. "Why not? You could get any woman you wanted!"

Eddie didn't look up from the floor. His hands were balled up into nervous fists.

"Or man?" She continued. A question.

Before Eddie could speak, Richie's voice broke the tense silence. “No! You aren’t allowed to come out!”

“I kn-kn-know you’re not about t-t-to be homophobic,” Bill interrupted.

“Like you can talk,” Richie answered, annoyed. “Have you ever written a character that wasn’t straight?” Bill tried to answer but began stammering worse than usual. “And I’m not being homophobic. But if Eddie comes out right now and steals my goddamn thunder then that would be biphobic. Because I’m bi. That was my secret. So. Now, Eddie, if there’s anything you’d like to say…”

“You’re the fucking worst,” Eddie told him. “And I don’t… I don’t know. I’ve never had feelings strong enough for anyone, man or woman, to ever do anything about it. I suppose I’ve found men attractive before, but never anyone that I knew or liked or – I suppose mostly celebrities, strangers on the subway, things like that. I never… I guess I haven’t met many people that have caught my interest.”

"Sounds like you need to lower your standards,” Stan said bluntly.

“Nah,” Ben said, smiling at Eddie. “I get what he means. I never really formed any connection with anyone either. Before you guys I was lonely, and after you guys I was lonely. I suppose I had been interested in someone when I was younger, but… I forgot about her. Maybe eventually you’ll remember someone, Eddie. Someone who caught your interest.”

Eddie finally glanced up, his eyes immediately finding Richie, who was staring resolutely at the floor. He chewed on his lip. Finally he looked over at Ben and said, “I think I will remember. Eventually.”

"Well," Richie said loudly, and Eddie jumped. Richie's cheeks were bright red and he shoved his glasses up his nose with his pointer finger. "Since I already spoiled my secret, I guess I don't have to go."

"We're very proud of you, Richie," Bev said with a soft smile. "Even though you ruined Eddie's moment."

"Sorry 'bout that, Eds," Richie said with a small shrug and a sheepish smile. "Couldn't let you steal my gay thunder."

Eddie furrowed his brows. "Didn't you just say you were bi?"

Richie waved him off. Eddie noticed his face was still flushed. He pushed his glasses up his nose again. Eddie clenched his hands into fists as he watched Richie fidget, knowing the other man was nervous but not being completely sure what he was nervous about. Eddie had said he would probably remember someone he had feelings for… Could Richie be figuring him out? Could Richie already know that Eddie had those feelings?

And now that he knew Richie was into men as well… Could he return those feelings?

"-but like I said earlier, to Eddie, I feel like I'm only just remembering the girl I loved…" Eddie realized he'd been ignoring Ben, who was obviously talking about Beverly. The two of them were still next to each other, but Eddie could sense some discomfort in Beverly's body language. He thought about how her entire life had revolved around men and felt a pang in his chest for her. She deserved a break.

"So, w-w-what do you th-th-think, Eddie?" Bill said. Eddie startled, tearing his eyes from where they'd rested on Bev. Ben had finished talking and Eddie was hit with a wave of guilt that he'd been too inside his own head to really listen. But he knew the gist of it, right? Ben loved Bev, Ben had been lonely as an adult. He was basically just repeating Eddie's life story, although probably without the virginity aspect.

"I mean… I dunno. Do you guys feel closer?"

Bill shrugged helplessly. Eddie's heart sank. He didn't feel any different, either.

"I think this was good," Richie said, stepping up beside Eddie and wrapping an arm around his shoulder. "At the very least we're better off than we were before. It was like a trust exercise, you know? It - it worked."

Eddie looked up at him. He was giving Eddie what was probably supposed to be a reassuring look, but from the angle Eddie was at, looked more like a grimace. Eddie laughed a little.

"W-Well, alright th-th-then," Bill said, heading toward the front door of the Inn. "Let's g-g-go."

By the time they made it to the small door that led to It's lair, Eddie could barely breathe. Nothing had happened the entire way. Why had nothing happened? Where was It?

"Well…" Richie said with a shrug. "No news is good news, right?"

"I don't think that applies here," Stan said, his voice trembling.

"Are we ready, then?" Mike asked. Eddie gripped his aspirator and shot it into his mouth. The others nodded grimly. Mike pushed the door open, and they went inside.

Amidst the chaos - It turning into a giant spider with Pennywise's face, chasing them down tunnels that lead to nothing good, three doors with no right answer - Eddie had clutched his aspirator in his hand. He hadn't thought about it, but now, as he watched Richie's body float into the air, eyes white, he thought that perhaps he'd known all along. He remembered spraying the aspirator into the giant eye, remembered - this is battery acid, fucknuts! - and he stepped forward.

He didn't utter a sound as he sprayed the aspirator at It, watching as the mist hit one of the spider legs. It's head swung around to face Eddie, so close Eddie could smell It's rancid breath.

"Battery acid," he said coolly, before shooting off the aspirator again. He was close enough now that the mist sank into one of It's eyes. Pennywise's voice bellowed around the cavern, screaming in pain, and Eddie sprayed again, this time aiming for It's open mouth. Just as his finger pressed down, just as the HydrOx filled It's mouth, Eddie was slammed into from the side. He lost his grip on the aspirator and landed hard on the ground, but his eyes didn't leave the spider. He watched as the mouth, filled with razor-sharp teeth, clamped down where his arm had just been.

"You're a fucking idiot, Kaspbrak," Stan said, helping Eddie up.

"Holy shit," Eddie said, breathing heavily and looking at Stan, who was shaking. "You saved my life."

"Yeah, well," Stan said. Then, more quietly, so low that Eddie didn't think he was supposed to hear it, he said, "You saved mine first."

"We gotta save Richie," Eddie said, as It's yell pierced the air again. It was rounding on Mike and Ben on the other side of the cavern, and Richie still floated in mid-air.

"Hey!" Stan screamed, his voice echoing in the lair. Eddie's eyes widened and he grabbed Stan's arm. "You're not real, clowns are human and don’t have spider legs, either you’re a human or a spider, make up your mind!"

Eddie watched in horrified shock as It began to shrink, spider legs pulling in toward its body. The others began to join in, yelling what seemed like nonsense to Eddie, who suddenly could only focus on Richie, collapsing to the floor.

He rushed to Richie's body, lying on the ground, and began to shake him.

"Clown! Clown! Clown!"

"Rich, wake up, man," he said, patting Richie's cheek. Richie groaned. "Yeah, hey, buddy, open your eyes!"

"Eds, wha-" His eyes widened as he took in Eddie's form. He grabbed tightly onto Eddie's right arm, staring at it in wonder. "Fuck, you're -"

"Come help us!" Ben's voice carried over to them. Eddie looked over to where their friends stood in a semi circle around It, now shriveled and small and not a clown at all. Eddie helped Richie to his feet and, feeling more powerful than he ever had in his life, squeezed It's heart until It was no more.

Richie saw Stan kill himself and Eddie losing his arm and dying in the deadlights and when they’re out of the house he grabs Stan’s arms and looks at his wrists angrily and Stan realizes what it means and Richie asks “Why didn’t you do it?”

“First I didn’t remember… I was in the bathtub… I was… Ready. I could only remember promising Bill, the blood oath… But then I remembered Beverly saying she saw us all as adults… And I remembered that I had, too, when I was in the deadlights, and that Eddie was going to die. I knew – Somehow I just knew that if I killed myself Eddie would die, and if I came back he wouldn’t. I could – I could end my own life, but I couldn’t bring myself to end Eddie’s. So I came back.”

not even the author knows what happens next :-)

#eddie month

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givemefic · 3 years

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Chapter One: Sold

Title: Accepting Fate, Denying Destiny

Author: GiveMeFic

Fandoms: All for the Game/Harry Potter

Characters: All for the Game Crew, Harry Potter

Relationships: Canon AftG, Harry Potter/???

Rating: Explict, MA

Warnings: Explicit Language, Violence, Torture, Sexual Themes/Acts, Abuse of all kinds so be mindful (More to come I’m sure.)

Summary: Sold off at the tender age of five by his abusive uncle, and then again at ten, Harry Potter learned that life would always find a way to fuck you over.

“Because,” Kevin swallowed hard, “he starts this year.”

“Who?” Matt slung his arm over Dan’s shoulders. “Stop being so cryptic.”

He tapped his cheek, the number two stark against his skin. “Why do you think Jean is number four?”

Dan and Wymack both straightened. “Wait, so the third in your little cult court is going to play this year?”

“How can you be so sure?” Wymack asked.

“He’s the right age. And I heard that he came back to the Nest last year after I—“ He choked on his words. “After I left.”

CHAPTER ONE: SOLD

The boy shivered in the car, the warmth from the drive with his Uncle Vernon this morning had long since been replaced by the cold from the snow and freezing rain. He looked at the building his uncle had gone into. He hadn’t come back, and the boy winced when he felt like he was going to shake out of his skin.

“Don’t you dare get out or be seen, boy!” He’d almost recoiled from the hand that reached back, but he knew that the second hit was always harder if he did. Cheek blooming red and tender, the boy nodded and had been there, curled up in the floorboard ever since.

Only now he couldn’t stand it anymore. So he popped up, saw the lot empty of people, and he snatched his cousin’s spare coat from the back of the car. Dudley was three times his size, so the puffy coat was like a blanket. He stayed curled up and with practiced ease, the boy ignored his cramped stomach and fell into a light sleep.

He didn’t know how much time passed, but he came awake, trying to hold still. The door opened and the boy cringed under the coat.

“What the—“ The coat was ripped away. He looked passed his uncle and the sky had darkened and the snow wasn’t falling anymore. “Get out here, boy!” A meaty hand took him by the arm and the boy found himself falling out of the car and onto the now dirty snow covered ground. “Well, here he is.”

Lifted and barely able to stand on his own feet, the boy held back a cry as his shoulder was wrenched higher. One of his too big shoes fell off.

“He doesn’t look like much, tiny thing.”

He opened his eyes and saw a few people standing before his Uncle Vernon. Two men were outside a very nice looking town car. It was left running and the back door was open.

“Don’t let his size fool you, he works hard and listens well enough. Don’t you?” He shook the boy again and he couldn’t stop a whimper at the pain, nor his now bare foot was slipping in the snow. “You said,” Vernon cleared his throat and continued on in the same kind of polite voice he’d heard his uncle use when talking to his boss on the phone at home. “You said this would be enough to clear my debts.”

“Yes,” drawled the man in a heavy wool peacoat. “That’s if we find him suitable. Let him go.”

He fell to his feet and couldn’t stop himself from sliding to his knees. The overly large shorts, almost long enough to be pants on the boy, soaked through. He looked up at the strangers.

“Those eyes,” the other murmured. He took a cigarette out and lit it. “How old are you?”

He looked to Vernon and trembled.

His uncle answered, “He’s five.”

“Where did you find him? You claimed his parents are dead?”

“Yes,” Vernon spat. “My worthless sister-in-law and her husband got themselves killed when he was one. He was dropped on us and we’ve put up with him since.”

The man in the coat squatted down and leaned in to look closely at his face. “Any records?”

“None.”

“Medical?”

Vernon scoffed. “I wouldn’t waste money on him at a doctor.”

The coat man’s mouth thinned and the boy tensed, waiting for a rage filled hit or shove. Only he stood up and with practiced ease, lifted the boy from the ground and settled him on his hip. “Want to see, sister?”

From the open car door, a woman’s hand waved them over. It was dark in the car and the boy couldn’t see anything beyond the lit end of a cigarette. “He’s small, but seems willing to listen. Don’t you, young man?”

At first the boy didn’t know what to say, but the man holding him gave him a little bounce and raised an eyebrow. So he nodded and said, “Yes, Ma’am. My ears work good. Even though Uncle says they don’t.”

The other man burst into chuckles and the one holding him smiled. “Bit of an attitude too.”

Vernon was sputtering and took a step toward them with a shaking finger and a red face. “Listen to me to you loathsome brat—“

“That’s enough.” They cut Vernon off and stepped between him and the boy. “What’s his name?”

The boy frowned and said, “Freaks don’t get names.”

It was silent for a moment, then the woman spoke from the darkness. “Don’t they?”

“No, Ma’am.” He shook his head.

Vernon cleared his throat and with a croak he said, “It’s Harry. Harry Potter.”

The man holding him slid into the car while the other finished talking to Vernon and the b— Harry’s eyes widened when he saw the man backhand his uncle. He cringed into the lap of the woman he’d been passed to. He didn’t want to see what Vernon was going to do to the stranger. Only a moment later the door shut and when he peaked out, Harry saw both men sitting across from him and the smoking lady.

“Well, Harry,” she said, “welcome to the family.” He could now see in the dim lights of the street as they pulled away, that she was a very pretty lady. Her blonde hair was he same shade as Aunt Petunia’s, but longer and wavy. “I’m Mary Hatford. What do you think about coming to live with me now?”

“Mary?” The smoking man leaned forward. “What are you talking about?”

Her hand came up and Harry squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the hit. Only her fingers crept into his hair and gently detangled the mess. “I’m taking him with me back to Boston, Stuart.”

“What for?” Stuart tossed the butt of his now finished cigarette out the cracked window. “He’s small, we could use him as a runner. I bet you’re petty quick, eh, Harry?”

Harry nodded, dislodging Mary’s hand. “I run a lot faster than Dudley and his friends. And! I fit under the rose bushes! I don’t care about getting scratched, but Dudley always cries if the thorns bite him.” He reached down and rubbed at his bare foot. It had begun to tingle from the heat of the car.

Mary leaned forward and saw what he was doing. She pulled a coat from behind her and draped it over him, tucking his legs and feet into the warmth. “He’s coming with me. Abram could use a playmate.”

Harry frowned. “Who’s that?”

“My son,” Mary said. “He’s all alone in our big house.”

“He doesn’t have no friends too?”

“Doesn’t have any friends,” Stuart corrected. “And Mary, I don’t…” He lit another cigarette and sighed out a plum of smoke. Harry wiped at his eyes when they stung as the smoke filled the car. “Aren’t you worried about—“

“It’ll be fine,” Mary insisted. “Don’t you want to come live in a big house, Harry? My son is your age too.”

Harry blinked and asked, “Is your cupboard big enough for me?”

“Cupboard?”

He nodded. “For me to sleep. I’m not scare of spiders.”

Mary closed her eyes. When she opened them, she looked down at him and said, “I think we can do better than a cupboard. How about your own room?”

“Mary,” the other man finally spoke up, “what will your dear husband say about this? He barely tolerates his own son.” He waved at Harry. “What do you expect will happen with him?”

Mary bit her lip and Harry pulled her coat up higher to his shoulders. “I’m doing what I can to protect him, William.” She stroked Harry’s hair again. “If that means sacrifices, then so be it.”

“Um,” Harry huddled down and asked, “where do you live? Is it far, far from Uncle Vernon?”

“So very far away,” Mary promised. “I’m leaving tonight to head back. I need to make sure Abram is alright.”

“Still can’t believe that arsehole made you leave him behind,” Stuart grumbled.

“Collateral.”

Mary glared at William for his comment. “I needed to come back, to get away and help settle things here with father… I’ve got some people watching him for me. It’s only been three days.”

“A lot can happen in three days.” William sighed. “But, maybe your new whipping boy will help ease your heart.”

“I will protect Abram above anything else,” Mary said, and Harry trembled at the anger in her voice. “And Harry here, he’s going to help me. Right, lovely?”

He hesitated, but said, “I’m too small to help pro-prot...”

Mary leaned over and tapped his nose. “You’re just the right size. But you’ll have to do some things that might be scary. Or even hurt. I promise to make sure you have lots of things to eat, and a soft place to sleep at night. But you have to make sure Abram is safe. Can you do that? It’s a big job.”

Harry looked at Stuart and William, but both of them were looking out the windows. So he nodded. He’d been hurt a lot before, but at least this time there would be a reason. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia would never say why they hurt him, they just screamed and threw things, or beat him.

He could make sure Abram was ok. Mary seemed nice, and he wanted to go far away from his family. “Yes, Ma’am.”

She smiled, and he couldn’t help but smile back.

“You’re going to be perfect, Harry. They’ll love you.”

#harry potter #all for the game #crossover #fanfiction #Harry Potter fanfiction #accepting fate denying destiny

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essaysbyciara · 4 years

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Old Habits Die Hard| Part Six: Just & Righteous

Warnings: Languages, brief mention of police brutality, lightweight mentions of sexual situations

Almost at the end of this thing, whew. As always, you can read on Wattpad as well. Thank youuuuuuuu for the likes, reblogs, comments and commentary. Y’all bring so much joy. Peace & love.

JUST & RIGHTEOUS

It seemed as if history repeated itself. Minutes, hours, day, weeks, even months passed without hearing a word from Dave. He sent no DMs and leveled no texts your way. He left the text message containing your phone number on read and left you feeling waves similar to what you felt last summer.

But it was the sweetest dismissal you ever could receive. Truth be told, you didn’t need to hear from Dave at all. The fact that you sent him your number as you sat in the passenger seat of Yahya’s car was the lowest of low. Yahya was nothing but great to you. He didn’t deserve your betrayal. You were happy that the Universe conceded on his behalf -- and blocked yours.

As the months eclipsed between that unfortunate reunion with Dave and the date of your wedding, you tried your best to hide the glow of the what-if’s involving Dave. How would you even pull this off if Dave did reach out to you? You felt bad for imagining the many ways to do just that.

Your reality inched closer and closer to you as the day of your wedding dress fitting approached. As you sit in your mother’s living room the day before the fitting, you look over at a framed photograph of your parent from their wedding day. Your mother, Jackie, saved her billowy couture gown with the miles-long train just for you. Thankfully you were a bit too thick in the hips to fit into that 1980s extravaganza of a dress.

It took your father’s passing for you and your mother to become close. You were a Daddy’s girl through and through and as much as Jackie didn’t want to feel bothered by your daughterly allegiance, she felt hurt by it. You would beg to stay at your Aunt Jerri’s cramped rowhouse every summer even when your Mom’s side of the family had the house not too far away with the extra bedrooms and the basketball court. You’d rebuff your Mom’s invitations to sorority events and balls to watch college football with your Dad. You even pledged her rival sorority.

It was as if you were doing everything in your power to spite her.

The truth wasn’t that. To you, Jackie was regal. She was the epitome of a queen. You always admired the way your Dad would stop everything to take a look at her, his attention so rapt that you had to nudge him back to reality. No hair was out of place, even her eyelashes curled with perfection. She was the epitome of “it” and you wanted to be her. Jealousy enraptured both of you.

But once your Dad died, that jealousy had no more blood left on to feed. It did have your father’s side of the family, who chose the funeral’s repast to air out their decades-long grievances with each other concerning your Dad.

A bottle flew in the air and almost hit your mom’s sister. In the midst of that chaos, your Mom grabbed your hand and asked if you were okay. Accusations were flying around that made your Dad either look like an angel or the devil incarnate. The same people that loved hard on you -- including your Aunt Jerri -- dogged your father out in front of everyone. Jackie gave a damn about you when the people around you both were worried about the “ principle” of it all. You and your Mom had no more reasons to fight. You became a united front, so strong that you both proceeded to curse out everyone into submission. Aunt Jerri even apologized to you since she “didn’t know both y’all bougie asses could go off like that.”

You made peace with your Aunt Jerri. Jackie was a different story.

“Is Jerri coming?” Jackie asks as she pours blistering hot water into her coffee mug.

“Yes, she is. She’s staying at my house … don’t you start.”

“Start what? I have no problems with that woman. As long as she knows her…”

“Both of you need to stay in your place. No disrespect, ma.”

Your Dad was a graduate of the North Philly streets. Your Mom was a first-year grad student at the University of Pennsylvania. Somehow your Dad made his way into a fraternity party on Penn’s campus and got a glimpse of Jackie, or ‘J8’, strolling in a circle with all of her sorority sisters to “Curious” by Midnight Star. He found a reason to linger around the house party at the defiance of his friends, waiting for the right time -- and right slow jam -- to get Jackie away from her girls. No such luck because somehow your Mom got out of the house and on her way home before your Dad could get a chance to dance with her.

But your Dad had collegiate connections -- your would-be Uncle Terrence, who willed himself away from those same streets and into Temple on a football scholarship -- who knew when the next party would be taking place. Your Dad waited and, sure enough, he laid eyes on Jackie again and this time, he’d get the slow jam he wanted.

It didn’t matter to your Mom that your Dad wasn’t on his way to a doctorate. It didn’t matter to your Dad that your Mom came from a well-off family from Chestnut Hill. Jackie would hang out in those same North Philly streets as her man with ease and your Dad would stroll around Penn’s campus like he belonged there. To everyone around them, they had no business with each other but they didn’t care. So much so that they eloped right after Jackie graduated, pissing off both sides of the family especially your Aunt Jerri.

Truth be told, Jerri and Jackie should be two peas in a pod. You’ve seen your Mom at sorority events and, without question, she could out-party your Aunt Jerri. In theory and practice, Jackie and Jerri should be on some seven-day cruise getting drunk together but alas, they both sit around with unresolved beef involving your Dad, the person who isn’t around to tell them to cut it out like he did in the past. His passing wasn’t enough to get them to bury it.

“I’m still your mother, watch it…”

“You sound like Jerri right now, you know that…” you joked, bracing for the coffee mug to travel from your mother’s hand towards your face. “Look, I’m only asking for you two to keep it church cute for two hours, if that. You can do that. At least for your husband, God rest his soul. And for me.”

“I will … and I’m praying for your future husband because I know Jerri is driving him insane.”

Aunt Jerri is indeed doing just that but Yahya doesn’t mind. Yet.

Aunt Jerri constantly reminds herself that Yahya is her future nephew-in-law. Yahya is so much like recently deceased husband -- Uncle Terrence -- that she can’t help but erroneously fall in love with your man. Aunt Jerri tries to curtail her lust enough as Yahya walks into the house fresh from the gym.

Yahya tosses his gym bag onto the vestibule floor with aims to run upstairs and grab a quick shower but Jerri prohibits that plan.

“What do you think? Do you know of anyone in Philly that could help?”

“I mean, I do but this is nuts…”

Yahya read the entire court case that Aunt Jerri handed him as he ran on the treadmill. What looked first like a false arrest turned into a case of police misconduct and judicial overzealousness. He’s seen judges level exorbitant bails on suspects before but this amount of bail was way beyond the standard. The way the police treated the suspect made Yahya so angry that he twice hit the treadmill’s emergency button to stop himself from running off of the exercise machine and into a wall.

He promised you that he wouldn’t take on any new cases this close to the wedding but his heart couldn’t let this one slide. His good heart couldn’t pass this over to someone else who he wasn’t quite sure could handle a case of this magnitude. But he wanted to practice fairness and ask you how you would feel about him picking up a case just months before the wedding. Yahya was running up the steps to take a shower and mull over what to do.

You aren’t right on time as you walk into the house just as he stands in the kitchen with sweat dripping off of his body from his run and the idea of you going off because he wants to play hero at the wrong time. He walks up to you and kisses your cheek. You implore him to get upstairs and wash away his workout before you three go out for dinner.

“You okay, Aunt Jerri?” You sit on one of the stools next to the kitchen island not rushing to tell Aunt Jerri about the conversation you just had with your Mom.

“Yeah, I am. Yahya and I were talking about some fucked up shit happening back home.”

“What’s messed up?”

“That wack shit that happened to Dave…”

Dave walked down Ogontz Avenue to blow off the steam of seeing your face for the first time in a year -- and the man that earned your love after he abandoned yours. He remembered the final night of your two-week stay last summer. You drove with him out of the county to what felt like the middle of nowhere. You sexed each other so deep and hard in the backseat of your car that your body heat had to escape through the tailpipe.

You were coming down from your high when you asked Dave to come back to DC with you. He could stay with you and then later visit you on his off weekends. Dave, so deep inside and into you, did not hesitate to agree. He wanted to wait until he was off from work to visit you first, not risking the job that Trace got him on the fly. Dave was on the way to becoming a supervisor at the warehouse and he didn’t want to mess up the grind.

You agreed and waited but Dave never came.

He sent that text after seeing you drive off with Yahya. He wanted you to know that he messed up, that fear of the unknown stopped him from making the move that his heart wanted to make. Hood dudes don’t drop everything for women, at least that’s what he saw around him. Dave still reveled in being revered in the streets. A new city with a woman he barely knew outside of the sex they created and the one date they shared wasn’t worth throwing away the relationships he built up north. But instead of telling you that he wasn’t ready for that, he ghosted. He didn’t want to hurt your feelings. He did more than that.

He grieved his decision as he walked down the street to grab some Backwoods before walking back home. There he was met with four police officers ransacking the corner store looking for a suspect related to a shooting that took place just blocks away. Dave was too deep into his thoughts to stop himself from walking into the store and what would happen next. Dave fit the description of the suspect: tall, tattooed with ahki beard. He didn’t have time to plead his case as the police slammed him up against one of the coolers and onto the floor, breaking his jaw.

Because Dave had a record and the victim was a five-year-old, the judge set his bail beyond even what his Mom could put her house up for in collateral. His lawyer, a public defender, told Dave to plea. A witness said she saw a man matching Dave’s description walking down Ogontz after the shooting. Dave was nowhere near the shooting, rather he was sitting on Aunt Jerri’s porch, ruminating about losing you but the lawyer didn’t want to hear it. So Dave sits in jail until his trial date and the neighborhood stewed in disbelief.

Aunt Jerri told Dave’s mom that she knew a civil rights attorney in DC that could help. She hoped that Yahya would take the case up himself, not thinking about the awkwardness of her niece’s fiance representing her niece’s ex-flame in court.

It hits you once you hear the story: that’s why you didn’t hear from Dave after you sent that text. He was sitting in PICC away from his friends and family. But you quickly wondered why you are now hearing about this from Aunt Jerri -- and how Yahya became a part of this conversation. Aunt Jerri quickly answers you.

“I was hoping Yahya knew someone up there that could help Dave.”

“Oh, because I know he’s not taking the case.”

“I was hoping that he would…”

“No the fuck he isn’t, Aunt Jer-.” You stop yourself from letting out more words that you both could handle. Despite the precedent set by you at your Dad’s funeral, you respect Aunt Jerri enough to reel it back in. “He can’t. We made a promise to each other that he wouldn’t take any cases from now until the wedding.”

Aunt Jerri stands bewildered as she hears you dismiss Dave’s need. She knew you were upset about what happened but she didn’t think you would react this way.

“I know Dave dumped into you and ditched you but this ain’t the way to get your revenge.”

“Excuse me?!”

Your rage boils as you listen to Aunt Jerri use your resentment toward Dave as a reason to keep him in jail. There’s a million lawyers in Philly, Dave didn’t need Yahya. You also didn’t want Dave and Yahya to ever meet, for Yahya to even know Dave’s existence. You were able to dodge a meetup when you were in Philly months prior. No need to plan one now. “First of all, you were the one that told me to get with him. And secondly, what you think it would look like if your new man is reppin’ your old in court. That’s foolish.”

“You were foolish in how you handled that Dave situation. I told you that boy didn’t want you…”

“Yeah, just like Uncle T ain’t want your ass either.” You could swipe low blows with the best of them.

“I know my brother loved you but don’t think I won’t…”

“Do what? I’m not my Mom. You can’t punk me.”

Yahya turns the corner of the steps to see you and Aunt Jerri almost eye to eye in the kitchen. He knows your faces of anger, catching it a time or two from you. He knows something is wrong and he fears that Aunt Jerri told him about the case. He knows what you don’t want him to do.

“Y’all good? Y’all ready to head out to dinner?” Yahya tries to break up the detente happening in the kitchen.

“I think so.” You cut a look at Aunt Jerri that could cut through steel. She grabs her purse and heads to the front door. Yahya passes her to meet you in the kitchen. He grabs onto your waist and pulls you in for a kiss. You rebuff him at first but like always, your body sinks into his without much hesitation.

“You okay, babe?” Yahya braces himself to kiss you again if you ask about what Aunt Jerri brought up to him.

“What’s this about a case?”

“Someone from the neighborhood got himself in a lousy situation with the police up there and she wanted to know if I knew of anyone up there that could help.”

“I’m sure you do because you promised me that you wouldn’t do anything else…”

Yahya doesn’t want to tell her that as he showered, he made his decision: he is going to represent Dave.

Taglist: @yoursoulstea @harleycativy @twistedcharismaaa @dorkskinneded @need-my-fics @ghostfacekill-monger @writerbee-ffs @chaneajoyyy @amyhennessyhouse

#dave east #yahya abdul-mateen ii x reader #yahya abdul-mateen ii #Old habits die hard

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murder-popsicle · 4 years

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@thiscrimsonsoul from x:

Wanda smiled softly as she listened as Bucky’s complaints took on a nostalgic and longing tone. “I miss my mother too,” she said, leaving for a moment to retrieve the fluffiest blanket she could find. She laid it over Bucky and tucked her in a bit. “I don’t have a radio, but… you’re welcome to put whatever you want on the TV.” She laid the controller down next to Bucky. “I don’t watch it much these days, especially the news. It just… There’s nothing good to see on it anymore, you know? I am living my life, I don’t need to see reality on the television too.”

“I have no idea what stobhach is, but… I can make you a nice stew if that would help at all,” she said, heading to the kitchen nook to do just that. “Any other requests? I am not your mother, but I can try my best,” she said with a warm smile, knowing how much small comforts like this can help at times like these, even if the memories they invoked were bittersweet due to loss.

“I still find myself wrapping myself up in my shawl for no reason other than Pietro stole it for me. On the good days, I tell myself it brings me closer to him, that he’s with me. On the bad days, I tell myself I’m foolish for thinking that. Regardless, comfort is comfort, and you deserve it as well as anyone else does. Whatever form you want it to take, I’ll do my best to make it happen.”

Taking care of others was something that felt good to Wanda. There was a time when she had wanted to be a mother, so maybe she was diverting those instincts toward other things. With Vision gone, she had to let go of those sorts of dreams. She doubted she would ever love like that again, simply out of a fear of getting the next candidate killed too. Wanda felt like a walking curse of late. Making stew for her friend was a nice, domestic task that made her feel less like a destructive monster and more like the mother she would have wanted to be some day…

Bucky laughed, and then winced at the accompanying stab of pain in her ribs. “Stobhach is stew,” she said. “Irish stew. Mutton and onions and some root vegetables. Sometimes lamb instead of mutton, if it was a special occasion and we had a little extra money. My ma wasn’t as good a cook as my aunt Mo, but she did make amazing stews and soups.” Still smiling, she added, “I made her oxtail soup for the guys here once, but Tony and Clint were grossed out by the idea of eating a tail. Their loss.”

Steve had dug in with enthusiasm, of course -- after all, he’d eaten it growing up just as often as Bucky had -- and Natasha and Bruce had both been willing to try it. But the look on Tony’s face had made it clear, without him even saying a word, that he wasn’t touching it.

Wanda would have eaten it, Bucky was pretty sure. From the conversations they’d had, it sounded like growing up in Transia and Sokovia hadn’t been all that different from growing up during the Great Depression, at least when it came to food and money.

“If your shawl makes you feel like your brother is still with you, you should wear it,” she said. “Not beat yourself up for takin’ comfort from it. My baby sister gave me a few things that she’d kept before she died -- some recipes of my ma’s, some photos, my fiancé’s engagement ring, the necklace my parents gave me when I got confirmed, that kinda thing. Sometimes lookin’ at ‘em makes me sad, but they help me remember the people I loved, too.”

#thiscrimsonsoul #c: wanda maximoff #v; earth's mightiest #[ stobhach ]

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cecesxwickedxocsx · 4 years

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The Contortionist’s Tale

As told by Elizabeth ‘Bizzy’ Mikelle to Edward Mordrake on Halloween Night

CW: sexual abuse, emotional abuse, mentions of sex work, childhood trauma, underage drinking and smoking

“Mama always told me I was the curse that would lead to her downfall. That every bad thing that ever happened to her was my fault, that somehow, I was at the root of every bit of misfortune she was forced to endure.

“Daddy died before I was born, at least that’s what I had been told. That he was an honorable man gone before his time, but my Aunt Ruth, who never lied ‘I put the Ruth in truth’ was her favorite thing to say, she told me that my daddy was the local preacher man. He was married to another woman and my Mama was his mistress. She would stay late to help out at the church and when she got pregnant, she thought he’d leave his wife, that he’d do the right thing. Obviously, that didn’t happen.

“I was ten or eleven when Mama met Randy. She thought he was a good man, he didn’t seem to mind that she had me, he’d come around two or three times a week at first, with flowers for Mama, sometimes a toy for me. Then he started staying over more often, next thing I knew, Mama and Randy ran off and got married. She thought he was a good, God fearing man willing to take in a fake widow and her daughter.

“He was the first person to comment on my flexibility. He said ‘Damn Mary, why can’t you move like that in the bedroom?’ Mary is my Mama, she said something about him being a scoundrel. Randy laughed, and I laughed too, I didn’t know what he meant but I wanted to be in on the grown up joke. I should have known, the look in his eyes, that wasn’t a joke.

“Mama got pregnant a few months after that, she would eventually have my little brother, but she was still very pregnant when Randy snuck into my bed. I can still smell the liquor on his breath, hot against the back of my neck. He didn’t do anything that night, just laid there for a few minutes, his front pressed against my back. The minutes felt like hours as I waited, my eyes shut, refusing to move, refusing to acknowledge that I was awake and knew what was going on. His body rocked against mine a couple of times and then, as suddenly as he’d come in, he got up and walked out, leaving nothing behind but a stain on the sheets that Mama yelled at me for when she did laundry the next day.

“After that, it happened again and again. Not every night, but every couple of weeks he would sneak into my room, lay there with me and leave. I don’t think he knew that I knew it was happening. He never spoke to me, never tried to wake me, he’d just rock against me and leave. I didn’t know what was going on then, but I know now what he was doing, what those stains really were.

“Little Randy was born and it stopped for a long time. I think he knew that with Mama waking up to feed the baby so often, he couldn’t get away with it. That she’d find out what he was doing. I tried to tell Mama about it, about him coming into my room, but she didn’t believe me, she called me a liar and told me if I ever told another lie on Randy like that again, she’d slap me silly. So I didn’t.

“I wish I had never told Mama about Randy, because after that, she started treating me differently. I was a threat to her now. She got pregnant again, I guess to remind Randy that they were married, that she was his wife. She wouldn’t let me stretch anymore, especially not out where he could see it. She’d make comments about my clothes and my body. She loved to say things about me in front of Randy, I wasn’t mad about it. I wanted him to hate my body. I wanted him to agree with her and leave me alone because now that Little Randy was sleeping through the night, Randy was back in my room, even more than before.

“Mama had taken me out of school to help with the babies, I didn’t do good in school, but I liked getting out of the house, I had friends. I even had a boyfriend, Mama didn’t know about him, she wouldn’t have approved, said girls my age runnin’ around with boys were nothin but harlots. Loose women who didn’t know God.

“We knew God, Mama packed us up every Sunday to go to the local church, I tried to tell the preacher about Randy, he was the same preacher Aunt Ruth insisted was my daddy, if he was, he didn’t acknowledge it, he wouldn’t even look me in the eye, told me I shouldn’t tell stories on my daddy and when I told him Randy wasn’t my daddy, he said I needed to leave.

“I was thirteen when Randy took it a step further, when he touched me, his hot, calloused hands on my body. I ran away the next day. I knew Mama wouldn’t help me, I didn’t like living at home anymore anyway. Mama would leave me to take care of the babies all day while she went next door to be with Miss Susan. I didn’t know what they were doin, but when Mama came home, she was always flushed, and smilin’ until Randy came home. I know now, but at the time, I had no idea. So when I left, I knew I wouldn’t miss home, I wouldn’t miss anything about it.

“I packed up what little I had, a couple outfits, my bible, and about two dollars that some boys at church paid me in exchange for getting to look up my skirt. I had no idea where I was going to go or what I was going to do, I just needed to get out. I hopped on a train like I knew tramps did. It was easier than I thought, I just… hopped on, and rode it out west. I stayed on until I was too hungry to ignore it.

“I did that for a few days, getting up on trains whenever I could, the tramps were nice, they’d share food with me, they’re where I got a taste for moonshine. They also told stories. Stories of the places they’d been and one tramp, his name was Johnny, told me about a circus he’d seen, no, not a circus, a freak show. He told me about the lights and the glamour, about the bearded lady and the tiny girl. The way he talked about it, his eyes lit up, it was incredible. I was enamoured with it. I had to find it.

“I don’t think Elsa is magic, but somehow, after I heard this story, the train stopped, right next to the freak show. It was as if it were meant to be. I had to do some things I’m not… exactly proud of to get the money to see the show. I couldn’t let it pass me by. The show was as spectacular as he made it sound with the music and the performances, I knew I needed to be here, I needed to be a part of this. This was my destiny. I stayed behind after the show, the train left without me and I new that I had to do this because I had no money, no ride and no idea when the next train would be coming through. I was fourteen by now and I didn’t look it. I was tall, I’ve always been tall, my body slender, legs for days, I’d been told. I snuck around the tents, trying to find her, trying to find Elsa, when she found me. Telling me that the tents were off limits to normal people.

“‘But I’m not normal’ I cried. She looked me up and down, taking in my all american apple pie looks but she didn’t scoff, didn’t toss me out, she took me to her tent, it was amazing, huge and impressive with silks and a sitting room. She offered me a cigarette, I took it, she offered me a drink, I asked if she had moonshine, she laughed and poured me something else. She asked me what I could do, what my freakish skill was. I couldn’t do it wearing what I was wearing, I would get tangled in my dress, so I took it off. Elsa didn’t say anything to this, simply watched as I placed my hands on the ground, lifting my feet up into a handstand, my entire body folding in half, backwards, my toes coming together under my chin, then continuing down to rest on the ground. I gave her the performance of my life, using every ounce of flexibility I had in my body. It was as if my bones were made of rubber, my body contorting into shapes that no human body should ever make, but mine always could. That flexibility that Randy had so admired.

“When I was done, Elsa stood up, handed me my dress and remained silent as I put it back on. ‘You’ll need a costume, it won’t do having a naked child on my stage’

‘So I’m in?’ I asked, my heart jumping up into my throat

‘For now’ she agreed, informing me that I could sleep on the couch in her tent for the night, tomorrow we would figure out the logistics. As I went to the couch, knowing I wasn’t going to sleep, she warned me not to come into the part of her tent that she slept in, I promised I wouldn’t. Then she asked about my parents, I assured her that it wouldn’t be a problem. She seemed to understand without me having to say another word.

“And now, here I’ve been, for the past five years, doing a show every night that Elsa’s asked. This show, this is my family. These are my people. The people who were suppose to love and protect me abandoned me for their own selfish desires, but in this show- the first time a man put his unwanted hands on me, Jimmy beat him into oblivion. Every year on my birthday, Ma- Ethel bakes me a cake and everyone sings to me. Elsa gave me my name, told me Elizabeth was the old me, that I needed a name fit for the banner.

‘Bizzy’ she said ‘Bizzy is the new you’.

The show is my family and if you have to take me to save one of them, then so be it. I’m ready to go.”

#bizzy mikelle #ahs freak show #ocs #oc fanfiction #oc fiction #ocapp #ocappreciation

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xxgoblin-dumplingxx · 4 years

Text

Off Day: Seven

Bucky walked into his shop, knocking snow from his boots and shrugging out of his coat, “You’re late, Barnes,” Tony shouts over his welder.

“I had sidewalks to shovel, Stark, Fuck off.”

“Did you get, Y/N’s?” Nat asked handing him a coffee. He took it with a grateful smile, “Yeah. I wanted to make sure she wasn’t out there doing it. She’s got enough going on with Kaity and the shop.”

Nat nodded, “Yeah. Judy had this up on her facebook this morning.” she said hitting a few buttons on her phone. She shows him a photo of you and Kaity, asleep leaning on each other, cuddled close in the glow of a television. The caption said, “I love my girls. I don’t know how I’d do this without them.”

Bucky smiled a little. You looked comfortable. He was glad at least, that you had time. That you could come to terms with it all. He sighed, “I take it you heard from Kaity?” he asked.

“No,” she said, “But Y/N did say she’s got a pain management appointment today. Judy’s gonna take her, per the message she sent me this morning when I asked if I should punch you in the mouth this morning.”

“I thought you were my friend,” Bucky said feigning hurt.

“Hey, girls gotta protect each other,” she said tossing hair out of her eyes, “And I thought if I punched you Kaity wouldn’t shoot you.”

“Fair,” he said nodding, “But I was a perfect gentleman. I even apologized for mussing her lipstick.”

“Good,” Nat said, “Now keep up the good work. Maybe you can keep this one.”

“I coulda kept lots of them!”

“Yeah. But you want to keep this one.”

Bucky nodded, “I really do.” He sipped his coffee and let it warm his hands for a moment, settling into his day.

He wanted to text you and tell you good morning, but he also didn’t want to smother you and leave you feeling like you had no space.

Eventually, he did text you, pulling his phone back out of his pocket. He couldn’t find a fault in a gentle reminder that he thought you were beautiful.

Good morning, baby girl. How’d you sleep? ❤

He set his phone on top of his toolbox and got to work on his engine build, tinkering with this and that, half-listening for his phone to chime

When it did, he wiped his hands on a shop rag and turned to pick up the device. On his screen, there was a picture of the cleaned off sidewalk taken from your kitchen window.

I slept fine, you? Kaity says thank you for doing the walk. She wasn’t looking forward to dealing with her cane on the snow.

He smiles a little and chuckles. You really don’t have any experience. No flirting, just the morning report. But, that was okay. He’d teach you that too. He had time and you had a full plate. He didn’t expect to be your top priority right now. He’d be disappointed in you if he was honestly.

He didn’t text you back right away, instead, he shot a text to his mom.

ma, can i bring a friend to breakfast sunday?

It’s not that awful creature?

No.

who is it? She’s not on drugs is she?

Not unless you count coffee.

Who is she?

Y/N.

If you don’t bring her I’m gonna disown you.

Bucky smiled to himself. His ma had always had a soft spot for little lost lambs and you definitely fit the bill. She’d been forever asking him about you. It irked her that you’d left town when you’d gone. Bucky was pretty sure if she was gonna get grandkids out of wedlock, you’re the only person she’d tolerate. Not that he wanted that. All he wanted right now was to find a way to make you stay. A way to help you through this mess. He picked up his phone again and texted you.

Baby girl I need you to do me a favor

oh?

I need you to come to breakfast at my ma’s house on sunday or she’s gonna disown me.

I’ll talk to Kaity. And Aunt Judy. I don’t want to leave them in the lurch.

i’ll pick you up?

In a car, right?

for now. it’s cold and I don’t want you getting sick.

Ok.

“Bucky,” Steve said strolling across the shop floor, “I’m gonna take your phone if you don’t get that fucking engine built.”

“C’mon, Steve,” he protested, “It was important.”

“Y/N having a hangnail is not important.”

Bucky sighed and shoved his phone into the pocket of his flannel, “I was asking her to come to breakfast on Sunday,” he says.

“Well there’s a test of your relationship,” Steve said.

“Shut up, ma will love her,” Bucky said.

“Oh that I don’t doubt,” Steve said chuckling, “Miss Winnie really does like adopting little lost lambs.”

“Then what’s to test?” Bucky drawled, starting to work on his assembly again.

“That’s a lot of family togetherness at one table Buck,” Steve said, “Y/N isn’t exactly feral but...”

“It’ll be fine. Ma’s excited to have her. Pretty sure she’s been dying to actually talk to her since we were in high school.”

Steve grinned, “Are you kidding. If you woulda actually dated her Minnie would have had the wedding planned and ready to go for the day after graduation.”

Bucky felt his cheeks color and focused on his assembly after that, at least on the outside. In the back of his mind, he’d always wondered what it would be like to wake up with you every morning. He’d loved every minute of getting you down for a nap yesterday, the only thing he’d think about changing is having to run the shop. He’d wanted to lay down with you and let you snuggle on his chest so badly it ached. He’d come back to check on you a few times, adding another blanket to keep you warm and making sure you were still asleep.

“You’ll make cute kids,” Clint said smirking when he noticed Bucky blushing.

“Clint,” Bucky said warningly.

“What?” he answered, “You will. And at least they’ll only be half stupid.”

“That’s also true,” Steve snorted.

“It’s too early for that. She’s never even had sex!” Bucky protested, not realizing exactly what he said.

“With you or ever?” Clint said, blinking in surprise.

Bucky groaned internally, “Ever,” he mumbled.

“How?” Clint said, “Hell I woulda hit it if you hadn’t been in love with her. She’s hot.”

Bucky sighed, “Look. It’s not really anyone’s business. Just. It’s. She’s just not found anyone she wanted to sleep with. That’s all you need to know.”

Clint nodded, “Fair enough,” he said. “She’s a good girl. A little too sweet for you but. It works.”

_________

Sunday morning, Bucky was up earlier than usual, taking time to shave and find a shirt that didn’t have grease stains on it. He had one. One solitary white shirt that had as yet escaped the shop and he pulled it on gratefully. He made a mental note to buy a few new shirts, things to wear when he took you out. You were worth looking decent for.

He knew you wouldn’t have all day with him. But your Aunt Judy and Kaity both had been more than willing to do without you until evening. Bucky had dropped by the book shop every day, to bring you coffee and steal a kiss. Or two. Or three. It made his lunch breaks a lot more fun. and it gave him a chance to check on you face to face. He needed to see you. He basked in every shy smile and lingering hug. It felt so comfortable. In some ways, your head on his chest felt more intimate than any time he had had sex with a woman. You were giving him more than your body, letting him close. You were carefully handing him your heart and trusting him not to hurt you again.

That made him feel a lot of things. A sort of pride. And fear. A need to protect you. He just wanted you to be happy. Safe and happy.

He got out of his car and walked to the door. He remembered this house as your grandma’s house. It looked the same. The family had kept it up really well, he noted. He knocked on the door and waited. Your Uncle Jack opened the door and jerked his head towards the end of the porch, indicating Bucky should follow him there.

Bucky felt his mouth go dry but he nodded and went.

“Before Y/N comes down here,” he said, “I want you to know one thing.”

Bucky cocked his head, “What’s that, Sir?”

“I want to know that you’re going to take care of my girl,” he said, fixing Bucky with a stare that made him feel like he was 13 and taking you on your first date.

“I’m going to try, Sir,” he said, “I- I should have done it years ago.”

Jack took his hand and clapped him on the shoulder walking him back towards the door. “That’s all I needed to know son,” he said kindly, “Just treat her right. You hear?”

“I hear,” he said, letting himself be ushered inside to wait on you.

You came downstairs a few moments later, shoes in hand. He smiled as he watched you struggle to put shoes on without sitting down before loping of the landing and down the last half a flight.

“Hi,” you murmur, shrugging into your coat, “Sorry. I woke up late.”

“It’s fine, Baby girl,” he said kissing your head.

“I won’t be gone late,” you tell your uncle, standing on your toes to kiss his cheek.

“Darlin’,” he drawled, “Don’t worry about us. It’ll be fine. I’ll look after my other girls, you just enjoy a day off.” He shooed the two of you out the door gently and Bucky put his arm around your shoulder, stealing a soft kiss hello.

“Come on, baby,” he coaxes, “Ma’s excited.” You smile a little and he kisses your nose. He’s not used to someone being so quiet but then, he supposes that he’s doing okay reading you. You look a little anxious but happy to see him.

He helps you up into his truck and takes the opportunity to pop you lovingly on the backside. “Bucky!” you squeak.

“Sorry, baby girl. Just appreciating a work of art,” he chuckles.

He steals another kiss before he buckles himself in and grins at you, “You’re always so pretty,” he murmurs, “I promise I’ll get a hair cut... maybe some new clothes.”

“Why?” you ask, brushing hair out of his eyes.

“Can’t have you embarrassed by me,” he said, “Walking around covered in grease and shit.”

You take his hand, kissing the calloused palm tenderly, “Bucky,” you sigh, “Why would I care about that? You work. You pay your bills. I’m not gonna be embarrassed by that.”

Bucky feels his cheeks color and he feels a warmth spread through his chest. “You got a hoodie I can steal?” you ask teasing.

He laughs, “Yeah,” he said, backing out of the drive, “Do you want me to bring it to you or do you want to just borrow one and not give it back.”

“I’ll get a hold of it the old fashioned way, thank you.” you tell him.

“Whatever you want, baby,” he said smiling as you laced your fingers through his.

It was a nice ride. Bucky always liked having a pretty girl riding shotgun. He always wanted that pretty girl to be you.

He helped you down after he parked and stole another soft kiss when you fell against his chest, “Easy, baby girl,” he chuckled, setting you gently on your feet. “I really hope you’re hungry,” he said walking you up the porch steps, “Ma only knows how to cook for an army.”

He walked you into the house and helped you out of your coat before taking off his own.

Winnifred was waiting, eager to hug you and make a fuss. Bucky watched as you maintained your composure, friendly and smiling but plainly a little uncomfortable. “You’re here!” she said, “I hoped Bucky wasn’t pulling my chain. I swear darlin’ he’s been in love with you since that first day of Kindergarten. He used to get so worried when you weren’t in school.”

You blush and Bucky puts his arm around you, squeezing gently. “I- I... it’s nice to meet you,” you say smiling, not sure what else to say. “Ma,” Bucky said, “let her catch a breath. Jesus.”

Winnifred tugged him down by his ear and kissed his cheek, “Don’t you sass me, mister. This is the first girl you brought to eat that is wearing actual clothes.”

You smile a little and Bucky blushes, “Ma,” he groaned.

“It’s alright, Bucky,” you murmur, snuggling into his side. In that moment, he didn’t even care. He was just happy. You were there and it just felt right. It felt like home hadn’t felt since he left for the army.

Tags: @lancsnerd @etherealwaifgoddess @thorfanficwriter @blameitonthecauseway

#Bucky Barnes #Steve Rogers #clint barton #natasha romanoff #Bucky x reader #soft bucky #biker!bucky #biker!au #fluff

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whumpitywhumpwhump · 4 years

Text

Here’s Mafia Week Day 7! Prompt: Vendetta.

There’s a bit where they discuss homophobia briefly, and also there’s some death mentioned too (specifically of a pregnant person).Oh, and a brief mention/reference to a bad childhood home (implied child abuse, but nothing explicit here).

Beck didn’t leave his apartment for two days. He also didn’t hear from Simon.

Instead, he sat on his couch, icing his face, clutching a pillow against his aching chest. Usually after a good beatdown, the pain made it too difficult to entertain thoughts, but this time the panic was cutting cleanly through all other sensations. Where was Simon? Was he ok? Did Pat even know yet? How long would it be until he found out? And after that, would he piece together the truth about him and Simon?

If it were any other family that had gotten ahold of the briefcase, Beck thought bitterly, it would have been alright—survivable, at least. But the Connells? They’ve been the enemies for decades, long before Beck even joined up. Back when he was still a toddler three states away, hiding from his parents as they smashed dishes against walls and screamed, Pat and his wife Mirabel were expecting a child—an heir to the family business.

Simon told him the whole story one night, while they were sitting in Beck’s car, maybe three months after they’d started dating.

“How come Pat never married or had his own kids? He always calls you his heir and stuff, why not have his own?”

“He was married once, but it didn’t end well for Aunt Mirabel.”

“Wait, really? What happened?”

“Aunt Mirabel was a fierce woman and ran as much of the business as Uncle Pat did. From what everyone says, she was nothing like Ma. My mother is great, but she would never be willing to go head-to-head with, say, the head of the Bertinessis or something. Aunt Mirabel would walk right in, and they’d be scared of her. Even after she got pregnant. You don’t have to guess why Uncle Pat loved her so much. Nick used to tell me about the two of them together, what Uncle Pat was like back then. He was… warmer, apparently. Not with anyone else, just with her.

Anyway, she was like, 5 months along or something, right? And Uncle Pat’s got this sting planned on the Connells, at one of their old hideouts, a seafood place down by the dock. And everything was going just as planned, until one of their people escaped the hit, and took matters into his own hands. It was the Connell heir at the time, this kid named Joel. A lot of his relatives died in the hit, so he decided to strike back, right where it hurt. He came to Uncle Pat’s house and started shooting through the windows—this was his old house, not the one you’ve seen. My uncle wasn’t home, because he was waiting at the deli for the report after the hit. By the time he got home, Aunt Mirabel was… well, he took her to the hospital, and they couldn’t do anything for her or the baby.”

“That’s terrible.”

“He couldn’t remarry—that’s why I’m his heir. A blood nephew, next best thing to a son of his own. It’s also why he hates the Connells so much. He’s basically had a vendetta against them ever since then. Anything they’re involved is immediately life and death, no negotiations, no second chances, nothing. Which, I don’t agree, necessarily, but I get it, you know?”

“Yeah, makes sense.”

Beck hadn’t thought much of it at the time, but now—well, now, that vendetta put a target on Simon’s head. And, he supposed, on his.

The idea of falling in love with Simon hadn’t seemed that dangerous before it happened, or even while he was falling. It was only after that he realized the implications. Again, Simon had to spell it out for him.

“My uncle can’t know we’re dating.”

“Wait, what? Why not? I though he was ok with gay people—isn’t Mad Dog gay?”

“Oh no, Uncle Pat’s not homophobic or anything, he doesn’t really care about that stuff. Like, my mom dated a few women back in the day. It’s not that.”

“Then what?”

“Well… I’m his heir.”

“What does that have to do with it?”

“I’m the closest blood relative in the next generation, you know?”

“Yeah?”

“So one day, I’ll need an heir.”

“Makes sense, but—”

“A blood heir. I need to make a kid. Biologically.”

“But Uncle Pat chose you, and you’re his nephew, not his son.”

“True. But I don’t have any siblings, so I can’t choose a niece or nephew. It has to be my kid, or at least, it has to be under Uncle Pat’s rules at least. Once he dies, I’m just gonna do what I want to, but for now, he can’t know. You can’t let him know, Beck. He will kill you if he thinks you’re a threat to the family line. I’m serious, ok?”

Simon wasn’t serious often, but then again, he never fidgeted either, and when he asked Beck to keep their relationship secret, he was curling and uncurling his fingers in his lap. So Beck had nodded.

“I won’t say a word.”

And he hadn’t. Beck had done everything in his power to keep Pat from finding out about them, because he didn’t want to die, and he didn’t want anything to happen to Simon. But now, if Pat killed Simon, and he figured out that the reason Simon screwed up was a secret relationship with Beck? Well, in short, they were both fucked.

Normally, Beck could keep his calm. But he also usually heard from his boyfriend pretty quickly when things were dangerous because Simon knew he’d worry.

Two days, and not a single text or call from Simon—that was not good news.

Beck pulled himself up from the couch, stifling a groan as his ribs shifted. They still hurt like hell, but he’d just take another ibuprofen and ignore them. He shuffled into the kitchen and pulled the fridge open. The little light flicked on inside, illuminating the scant contents. With a sigh, he grabbed the container of sliced ham, a few slices of cheddar, and the jar of mayonnaise. Halfway through prepping his sandwich for dinner, he heard his cellphone buzzing in the next room. He considered going to check it right away, but a grumble in his stomach convinced him it could wait for two minutes while he got this sandwich ready.

Carrying his dinner on a plate, he returned to the living room and settled back onto the couch. He balanced the plate on the arm and picked up his phone.

MR. RIGGS flashed on the screen—the codename he’d used for Simon in his phone. He swallowed hard and unlocked his phone, opening the message. The text was short, but thorough.

He knows.

As Beck’s thumb hovered over the keys, trying to figure any way to answer that, a second message appeared.

He knows about everything.

Sweat broke out along Beck’s hairline. His skin crawled like he could already sense a gun pointed at him. A third message came up, longer.

He’s going to kill me—I’m in my room, door’s locked, but he’s coming up. Beck, you need to leave the city. I love you, I’m sorry.

Beck typed out the words, “I love you too, Simon,” but before he pressed send, one last message flashed onscreen.

I’m scared, Beck.

Somehow, that was worse than the other messages. Simon was never scared, not enough to admit it to anyone. Beck’s eyes watered, and he straightened up on the couch.

He was not going to let Pat kill Simon—not tonight, not ever.

Beck closed his text with Simon and typed in a different number in his phone, one he hadn’t used in years. He typed as fast as he could, trying to say everything in as few words as possible. She never liked long, winding explanations.

Hey, Sadie. It’s Beck. I need your help. My boyfriend is Pat the Butcher’s nephew, he leaked info to the Connell family (my fault), and Pat is going to kill him. Text me back ASAP.

Looking down at the message, he clicked send, then chuckled sadly. It wasn’t how he planned on coming out to his sister, but then again, he’d planned on never speaking to her again.

Her reply popped up maybe two minutes later.

They’re taking him to the docks, pit stop at the deli for a beatdown. Cement shoes. Be there in 20, wait 30 secs after they drop him, go in after. I’ll pick you up on the corner of 8th and Bettler, 10 mins after, black SUV with Oregon plates.

Perks of having a sister who was also a criminal mastermind—he’d never found a limit to what Sadie could find out or fix. Who she called in the organization to get those details, he’d never know, but he was so grateful she did. As he pushed himself up from the couch to grab his keys, his phone buzzed again, and he looked down to see another message from Sadie.

When he unlocked the screen, he grinned softly. It was just a little rainbow flag emoji.

He shook his head, dropping his phone into his pocket. He grabbed his keys, wallet, and a coat, stepped into some sneakers, then rushed out the door.

It was time to go save Simon.

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jordswriteswords · 5 years

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Clextober19: Haunted House

"This is gonna be the coolest Haunted House ever!" Madi cheered.

Raven winked at her niece, then flipped down her welding mask and started grinding the metal pieces of… something.

No one knew exactly what Raven was doing.

Madi had asked her mom's if they could have a haunted house this Halloween, and of course, after much pleading from both Madi and Raven, her mothers gave in.

However, there were restrictions.

Madi couldn't use magic when she was in there to hurt anyone.

All scary creatures had to be friends or family.

No one was allowed to be under the influence of any substances before entering the house.

Jasper wasn't allowed to flirt with any of the parents.

Raven was not allowed to use fireworks.

There was a lot of moaning and groaning once Clarke and Lexa had gone over the rules, but everyone agreed once Lexa had cast her most menacing look towards them (Jasper actually squeaked). Madi did, at least, convince Clarke to talk to Lexa about using magic to make the place that much scarier, and of course the green eyed witch was more than willing to bend the rules for her wife.

As nightfall approached, kids gathered in the backyard of the Griffin-Woods house to gaze at the haunted house that Madi's family had made. Smoke plumed from the grass, Octavia and her vampire friends fluttered around in their bat form, the lights in the house flickered on and off, Lincoln howled, and Jasper laughed menacingly over the PA system.

"Wow, Madi, this is so cool!" Aden said.

"This is dumb," Josephine countered. "It's literally a playhouse with a PA system. How are we even going to fit everyone in there? It's like four feet tall."

Raven slapped her hand down on Josephine's shoulder, startling the twelve year old girl. "Ahhh, my pretty," she said with her best gollum accent. She was dressed to the nails as a witch/zombie combination. She had enlisted Clarke to just throw paint at her, which her best friend did so willingly. "Appearances may be deceiving," she quipped.

"Clearly. You look like a Halloween store barfed."

Raven's eyes narrowed at the young girl, and she pushed Josephine into the house with a little more force than necessary. "Just get in the house."

Surprised shouts and gasps were heard when the children entered the play place, as the house was as big as the Griffin-Woods home on the inside.

"Whoa," Aden said, blue eyes wide as he looked around. "How did you do this?" He asked Madi.

She just smiled at her best friend and winked.

The lights flashed and flickered inside the house, ominous music playing as the children moved through each room. There were fluttering curtains and fake blood dripping from the walls. Ghosts popped out of the walls and the children screamed. Jasper played a headless bartender, offering the kids bubbling brews filled with fake blood. Lincoln growled and pretended to lunge at them as they passed. The house was filled with screams as they made their way through the haunted house.

Madi tried her best not to giggle at her classmates.

In the last room, her aunt Anya was dressed as the Grim Reaper with a chainsaw (upon Raven's insistence) to chase the children out of the house.

As her class entered, Madi winked at her aunt, who was completely unrecognizable in her costume. Raven decided to go off script at this moment. "Only those of you who have pure hearts may leave this place. The rest of you must burn," she said, hand coming to grip Josephine's shoulder harshly.

Josephine just rolled her eyes at the Latina.

Anya chased the children as they all ran to the door, her chainsaw revving loudly.

Raven hit the remote that slammed the door shut just as Josephine got to the door, causing her to stumble backwards into Madi and Aden. Her head collided with Madi's nose, a loud crack sounded as she fell back onto her butt.

"Madi, are you okay?" Aden asked, dropping down beside his friend. "You're bleeding!"

Madi, delusional from the knock to her head, sniffed the blood back into her nose. She rubbed her nose with her sleeve, a sharp wave of pain coursing through her.

There was a loud crack of thunder inside the room, and a cold chill washed over the five inhabitants.

Blood seeped down the sides of the wall, wet and sticky, with an iron scent.

"Let me out!" Josephine cried. "Let me out!"

"Madi," Anya whispered, kneeling down to look at her niece. "Madi, stop."

"My nose," Madi cried. "My nose is broken!"

Anya's eyes widened, and she grabbed Raven's sleeve. "Open the door!" She hissed, pointing at Madi's broken nose.

"I can't," Raven cried as she smashed the button on the remote to no avail. "It's not opening!"

"Is it hot in here?" Josephine asked, her forehead starting to sweat. "It's hot."

"Let me try," Aden said, moving to the door to tug uselessly on the handle.

Madi was forced to sniff and wipe her nose again as the blood continued to pour out.

Suddenly, the smell of smoke filled the air, and Madi's eyes widened. Flickers of flames started catching on the bottoms of the curtains, growing as they licked at the material.

"Only the pure of heart!" A loud, disembodied voice boomed through the room.

"Madi, your magic is broken along with your nose," Anya whispered to her niece. "I need to get your mom,"

"No, no, no, please don't leave us," Madi begged, eyes watering as she pulled on Anya's arm.

"I'll be right back, I swear. We need your mom."

Raven smashed the button on the remote again and again. The door swing open suddenly, knocking Aden on his butt, and Josephine ran out without a second glance.

Anya pulled Raven, while shouting at her niece to get up.

Aden stood, shaking his head. He ran over to Madi and pulled to her feet, but she was woozy from her head injury and she fell back down, taking him with her.

Anya turned and tried to run back inside for her niece, but the door slammed shut again, locking her out of the house. "No, no, no! Madi! Aden!" She screamed.

The room was engulfed in flames in moments. Aden and Madi coughed through the smoke as they tried to pull on the door handle to the room behind them. "Ah!" Madi screamed, her hand burning on the knob.

Madi could hear the howls of Lincoln as he scratched at the door, and the shrieks of the vampires trying to fly through the walls and failing.

"It's locked!" Aden said. He coughed violently and pulled Madi down to the floor.

The brunette looked at her best friend, his face stricken with panic as he coughed and wheezed beside her.

She had sealed herself into the room like a tomb.

With Aden.

They were going to die.

She tried to wiggle her nose, but the break was so severe that she couldn't feel it. She sniffed, and the fire grew even more.

Aden reached for her hand, squeezing once before his eyes closed. "Aden!" Madi yelled, but the boy had passed out.

Madi coughed and coughed, her heart breaking and guilt manifesting as the realization that this was all her fault hit her.

"Ma-" she coughed. "Ma...ma," Madi whispered before falling unconscious.

***

Lexa watched as the children entered the haunted house.

From the outside, everything appeared normal, and then Anya and Raven came stumbling through the backdoor, followed by fire.

It was perplexing, because everything seemed normal with the magical spell covering the house.

"Where's Madi and Aden?" Lexa asked, hurrying down the steps to help her sister and sister-in-law.

"Inside," Anya wheezed. "Her nose," she coughed. "Broken. Fire."

Lexa's eyes widened in fright. "What spell did she use?" Lexa asked her sister.

Anya shook her head. "I don't know, I don't know."

Lexa ran to the play house and tried to rip open the door, but it wouldn't budge. She pounded on the door, but no one answered.

"Come on, Madi," Lexa said. "Come on,"

Suddenly, she felt like she was being pulled through her bellybutton, disappearing into a speck of nothingness, and appeared inside the haunted house, in the room full of flames.

She coughed and covered her mouth with her t-shirt, dropping to the floor to find her daughter and Aden.

It felt like her skin was being burned off with the rising heat, her eyes watering from the smoke. She coughed and gagged, searching blindly.

Her right hand finally connected with a limp hand, and Lexa held on with all her might. She reached her other hand out and around to try and find the other child, feeling a shoe to the far left of her.

Her head grew foggy with the lack of oxygen, her breathing became laboured. Her eyes spotted and she coughed, on the brink of consciousness. Lexa clung to the shoe and adjusted her right hand to give herself access to her fingers.

She snapped her fingers, everything went black, and Lexa prayed that she could hold onto the two kids to get them out of the room.

It was a handful of horrifying seconds before Lexa, Aden and Madi's limp bodies regained consciousness, coughing and gasping in the fresh air in the grass of the Griffin-Woods backyard.

Lexa snapped her fingers, and the house shook, and the doors swung open violently to reveal no smoke or fire.

"You're okay," Clarke cooed, rubbing Aden's back as he coughed.

"Mama" Madi coughed. She crawled into Lexa's lap and hugged her tightly.

"Careful," Lexa said, pushing her hair out of her face. She snapped her fingers and Madi's nose was instantly stuffed with gauze. "This is going to hurt," she warned, then snapped her fingers again to reset the bone, forcing Madi's eyes to water.

"Magical gauze. No magic mishaps until it's healed."

Madi hugged Lexa tightly. "Thank you," she whispered.

"What the hell happened in there?!" Josephine yelled, storming over to Madi. "You nearly killed us!"

Aden was the first one to his feet, unsure steps gradually becoming steadier as he breathed in fresh air. "What are you talking about?" He asked Josephine.

"The voice, and the blood, and the smoke, and the fire! Hello!" Josephine yelled, pointing at the house. "Where did you even come from! You guys just appeared out of nowhere!"

Aden forced a laugh and ran his hands through his hair. "Wow, the haunted house really scared you, didn't it Josephine?" He teased. "We came through the front."

"There's nothing in there," Finn Jr. said, stepping into the playhouse to reveal plastic furniture and black wallpaper. "What are you talking about, Josie?"

"I know what I saw!" She yelled. "They weren't in the backyard two seconds ago!"

"No more candy for her, am I right guys?" Aden said with a smirk. The rest of the gathered children laughed, pointing at Josephine and teasing her.

"I - I - I'm not crazy! I know it!"

"You saw them leave from the front," Octavia said calmly, stepping towards the crowd of onlookers, including Josephine.

A moment passed and Josephine repeated, "I saw them leave from the front," her eyes glazed over as she looked at Octavia.

The spell broke, and Josephine shook her head. Raven, at that moment, pressed the button on the remote to make the backdoor slam shut, and Josephine let out a terrified scream.

Everyone laughed and she stormed off. Shortly after, the rest of the crowd had dissipated until it was just Madi, Aden, and the magical gang.

"Thanks for staying to help clean," Madi said. "And standing up for me."

"No problem," Aden grinned at her. "You're my best friend. Besides, the haunted house was really cool," he added.

"Yeah," Madi sighed.

"Hey, umm, just so - just so you know, you're secret is, uhh, it's safe with me," Aden stumbled, earnest eyes looking at his best friend. He let his finger trace down the bridge of Madi's nose ever so gently. "I won't tell anyone you're a witch."

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blackhakumen · 4 years

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Mini Fanfic #287: A (Somewhat) Needed Talk (DuckTales 2017)

*Door Closes*

Louie: Sooooooo, Lena.......You mind telling me why you bring in the room for?

Lena: ('Sigh') Louie, we need to talk.

Louie: About what exactly?

Lena: About who was that woman with gold hair and why you and Scrooge are spending time with her a lot more than you did with us lately.

Louie: What? You mean Auntie Goldie?

Lena: Wait. She's actually your aunt?

Louie: Not really. I....(Starts Blushing a little) usually call her that for...... reasons....

Lena: (Raised an Eyebrow while crossing her arms) .......

Louie: ('Sigh') Ok, look, I know she isn't the most trustworthy or anything, but Auntie Goldie can be really cool once you get to know her.

Lena: Not to be judgemental or anything, but I'm not entirely sure if I should trust or even like her myself. She just seems too.....shady if you ask me.

Louie: Yeah....She does have that effect on people, oddly enough. (Frowns a little) Sorry I didn't spend a lot of time with you guys lately. You all seemed busy that I just didn't want to get too much in your way and all.

Lena: Louie, you're never in our way. You're our friend and.... (Ruffles Louie's hair with a smile) we miss you, man.

Louie: (Chuckles Lightly) Miss you guys too. I'll hang out with you and the gang next time. Promise.

Lena: Sounds good.....(Frowns Again) Though.... We're not the ones you ignored as of late....

Louie: (Immediately Figures out who she's talking about) Oh...Yeah...

Lena: Look, I don't want to get in too much of you and your brothers' business, especially if it's family related, but....is there any reason why you would openly try ignoring your mom lately?

Louie: ('Heavily Sigh') If I tell you the reason.... could you at least promise not to tell anyone about this? Especially to Huey and Dewey?

Lena: Yeah. I can do that no problem.

Louie: Thanks.....(Took a Deep Breath) Okay.....so.... (Walk Towards the Closet and look for something inside) Remember that time I got grounded for using that Time Tub Machine for one of my "Get Rich Quick Schemes"?

Lena: Ah yeah. Webby told me a lot about that. Kind of a stupid move on your part, Greenie.

Louie: Yeah that really wasn't one of my best days....So, anyways....a day after that fiasco happened, my mom thought it would be GREAT idea to install some crazy looking robot Gyro made just to watch over me while everyone else off to their little adventures. After a few failed attempts to leave the mansion later......(Found a Disc and place it inside of his laptop) mom made me a video message from that robot and.......('Sigh Heavily')

Lena: (Starts Getting a bit worried) Louie?

Louie: (Hand Lena the Laptop) Just watch.

One Video Message Later........

Lena: (Couldn't Believe What She just Saw) ....Did...she seriously said all of that?

Louie: ('Sigh') Yeah....(Sarcastically) Shocking isn't it?

Lena: Not gonna lie..... that does sound like a really poor choice of words on her part..... B-But c'mon now! I'm pretty sure she doesn't really meant what she said in that little message of hers, am I right?

Louie: (Look Down on the floor in complete silence) ..................................

Lena: Wait..... Louie, you don't actually believe that your own mother would be willing kick you out of the family if you did just one little scheme.....do you?

Louie: .....I don't wanna believe it....but I'm still scare about it....you know? I mean, what if what she said comes true? W-What if Dewey, Huey, Webby, Uncle Donald, or heck even Scrooge won't considered me a part of the family anymore if I made a scheme.... even if it's by accident or-

Lena: Louie! Are you even listening to yourself right now?! They're your family! They would NEVER do that to you!

Louie: I honestly wouldn't blame them if they did......

Lena: Louie-

Louie: NO! J-Just......('Sigh') This is all hard for me, okay? I don't know if you or everyone else know this by now, but other than that fact that I could find angles and shortcuts or whatever, making schemes was the ONLY thing I was actually good at here. I'm not a born adventurer like Dewey o-or a proud Junior Woodchuck Scout like Huey or whatever the heck Webby is supposed to be! I'm just Louie......just plan ole', run of a mile, useless, pathetic Llewellyn Duck.......(Tears begin to fall of his face) I'm trying........('Sniff') I am trying so hard to better myself.....to be useful to my family......but it just keeps getting harder and harder and harder every single day!.....('Sniff') I don't know, I guess.....maybe.....maybe I am just a lost cau-

Lena: (Immediately Pulls Louie in for tight, yet caring hug) Don't you DARE finish that sentence, kid. You hear me?

Louie: (Taken Back by Lena's suddenly embrace) Lena?.....

Lena: (Pull out from her embrace with Louie and place both of her hands on his shoulders) Louie, I'll say this once and I'll keep telling you this if I really have to. You. Are Not. A Lost Cause. To Anyone. Not to your brothers, not to Webby, not to Scrooge, not to your mom, not to Violet, hell, you're not even a bother to me!

Louie: You.... ('Sniff') really mind me that?

Lena: Definitely. I'm not sure if you realized this by now, but you mean the world to all of us. Even more so than you ever realized. So stop putting yourself down like this!.....(Gave Louie the most saddest and pleading look that she could give him right now) Please.....

Louie: (Sigh as he finally starting to calm down) Yeah.....(Wiping his Tears away) Y-You're right. I shouldn't keep doing this to myself anymore. Guess I'll have try even harder than I have been to better myself, huh?

Lena: Maybe.....But that doesn't mean you have to do this alone.

Louie: What do you mean

Lena: Louie, if you ever need someone to talk to.... especially if it's something too nerve wrecking to tell anyone else....Feel free to come to me anytime, alright?

Louie: You would really do that?

Lena: Yeah. I mean.....('Sigh') I know I'm not really part of your huge family or anything, but-

Louie: You sure about that? Cause....I always thought that you're already a part of the family. You and Violet both.

Lena: (Eyes Widened) Y-You....really mean that?

Louie: Yeah....I mean....I thought we established that already. You know, after everything that between you and-

Lena: (Pulls Louie back in for another hug)

Louie: Uhh.....

Lena: Louie......Thank you. (A Tear Came out of her eyes) Seriously.....

Louie: Are....you crying?

Lena: Nah man. I just ('Sniff') Got something in my eyes....you know....

Louie: (Sigh as he hugs Lena back) Listen....if anyone deserve 'Thanks' here, it should be you, Lena. And.... you're always welcome to come to me if you need someone to talk to....I mean, granted, I'm not nearly as good as listener as Huey or Webby is but I'll try my best to help out-

Lena: (Chuckles Lightly) I got it, kiddo. I'll keep that in mind.

Louie: Good. Cause....I love you, Lena.....(Immediately Starts to Blush) B-B-But definitely not in a romantic way or-

Lena: (Burst out Laughing) Relax, Greenie! I get what you're saying here. Really. (Smiles Softly) I love ya too. In a non-romantic way, of course.

@keyenuta

@cyber-wildcat

@chompycroc

@26shann

@ma-lemons

@lettheladylead

#ducktales #louie duck #lena de spell #scrooge mcduck (mentioned)#dewey duck (mentioned)#huey duck (mentioned)#webby vanderquack (mentioned)#della duck (mentioned)#violet sabrewing (mentioned)#goldie o' glit (mentioned)#hurt/comfort #angst #a lot of fluff #lena is best big sister #louie needs a hug #have to edited it again to make it perfect. sorry about that

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divagonzo · 4 years

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Metamorphosis

Ao3 // LJ // FF.net

A/N: Posted Originally for Smutty Claus (and I’d held off because someone wanted to run a Ginuarry fest (which didn’t happen.) So enjoy some seriously smutty goodness of my OT3. (Note: FF version is censored to R rated since they are Closed Minded Karens don’t allow MA ratings on works, the bastards.)

Tagging @princesserica84 for reasons. Not Ace Safe. Rated MA / NC-21 / E / 18+.

Summary: After the battle of Hogwarts and after Ginny and Luna finished their formal education, living arrangements weren’t so clear-cut and normative. But what is normal when Luna Lovegood is involved? She has to tell her lovers and best friends that she’s breaking up with both of them to see if whom she has met while out exploring the world is a potential match.

Warnings: Indirect mentions of war-time events under the reign of terror with the Carrows. Direct mentions of homophobia and some self-loathing regarding a character’s sexual orientation.

Give me my demarcation line, damn it!

"Aunt Luna?"

She looked up from her copy of the Quibbler, looking over her multi-coloured glasses perched on the end of her nose. "Yes, dear?" While the years had been quite kind to her, minor infirmities were catching up, including needing stronger lenses in her multi-coloured glasses.

Lily Luna, now 15 going on 25 and still as curious as she was at 5, kept twisting her fingers with nervous agitation. "How did you meet Uncle Rolf? How did you know it was serious between you?"

"I was wondering when you were going to ask me that question," Luna glanced towards the doorway of the Potter cottage, seeing Ginny standing there giving a quizzical look. "And I think 15 is a good age to finally explain what happened, that is if your Mum agrees. What do you think Ginny?"

Lily Luna looked from her Aunt – Her Godmother and Aunt in all but blood but, as Daddy repeatedly told her, Family isn't necessarily blood but a choice. Facial expressions danced between the two women, faster than thought and maybe in line with using Legilimens between the two witches.

A lifetime later, or what seemed to be a lifetime, and Ginny relaxed before blowing a breath out. "Go ahead," Ginny spoke up, "And I'll be back shortly to answer other questions that I know are going to come up. But first, let me freshen up your tea. I know you're going to need it. While you're talking I'll pop over to the butcher for a beef roast for dinner."

Ginny disappeared for a few moments before returning with a pot of tea, a plate of biscuits, and some Ginger Newts for Luna. Luna had told her previously that Ginny made the best Ginger Newt she ever got, either at home or out on her travels. Ginny only made them when Luna was going to visit or stay a short while at the Potter cottage.

"It's a taste of home," she'd say often.

Ginny poured tea for two, and Lily Luna sat back watching in awe as she watched Mum and Aunt Luna quietly converse. One word escaped the conversation that left her boggled – "Everything?" Luna asked before Ginny said yes. "I will," Luna said back before Ginny planted a kiss on Luna's forehead and a very tender one on the lips. She left without saying anything else.

"The bloody hell is this about? Dad knows about this?" Lily Luna screeched.

"That, my dear, is part of the story. You asked and you shall learn. And yes, your father knows. He's always known."

Another demarcation line if you please!

Harry stepped out of the fireplace, exhausted from another gruelling training session in the field. Merlin knows that Robards was a bastard for scheduling it in the bloody middle of winter, in Scotland of all places, but to have it last a week was just too damn much. He threw down his rucksack onto one of the couches, seeing the stack of books on the table nearest to the fireplace. Hermione always kept a small stack there for the nights when the guys were working and Ginny was off at Holyhead. He looked at the table next to the couch, where an enormous stack of Quidditch Weekly magazines was thrown haphazardly. Ron and Ginny enjoyed reading them but Ginny wasn't as tidy for caring for them as Ron is, with the colour spreads laying over the arm of the couch or inside the crevices. On the table was an empty tray, crumb strewn plates of late-night snacks of cake and biscuits, or fresh fruit that Ginny was mandated during the season.

Not that he minded at all, not when her body looked absolutely incredible with her robes on the floor of their bedroom and her on top of him, riding him until he passed out.

And on the other table was a stack of Quibblers, some old and some recent. Luna, Merlin keep her, read everything she could get her fingers on. She'd already read everything in their personal library including some of the things that Hermione would bring home for her from the Muggle Library. She'd even read some of the darker history items in the private library which Harry refused to pick up after Hermione told them one night over dinner of some of the things she'd come across in her job and had to reference the material for a case study.

He absolutely loved his family, his found family. Vernon and Petunia might be called his family but he'd not called on them once, not since they drove away with Dudley that day before he turned 17. He didn't miss them at all. It would be like missing an ingrown toenail that had never been tended to, or needing glasses and never getting them. Some things related to his family were left to turn farrow and wither away.

But he did miss the two incredible witches probably fast asleep in their communal bed upstairs, one floor below the landing where Ron and Hermione had their room.

Officially, for anyone who asked, Luna's room was up on the top floor, up under the eaves, with enough room for her to paint and do magical art, at least when she was home. Her home wasn't the Lovegood residence, and it hadn't been since the war ended. While her father had been finally released from Azkaban, Luna and Xenophilius hadn't repaired their relationship yet, not enough where Luna felt comfortable to reside under her father's roof once more. 'How could I when you were willing to sell out Harry to save me?' she'd said in a row with him.

He doubted Luna ever would live there again.

Harry offered Neville to live at Grimmauld Place with the rest of Harry's chosen family but Neville, Merlin love him, rented a room far above the Leaky Cauldron, up under the roof overlooking Diagon Alley. After the events at Hogwarts that fateful night, Neville said that he couldn't stay with his grandmother ever again and staying with Harry was just too busy for him.

Sometimes the house was too busy even for him. While it wasn't as noisy as the Burrow, Grimmauld Place had its own energy with so many people living elbow to elbow in the middle of London. He still saw Neville at work nightly, doing paperwork like the rest of them, chasing leads and going out on missions trying to track down the remaining Death Eaters who had escaped that night. Other times he was in the Potions lab, working on something secret for Director Robards.

Harry toed off his grotty trainers and yanked off his robes and jacket, hanging them on the coat rack by the door to the hallway.

While Sirius hated the home and everything it represented, and Harry couldn't blame him in the least, Harry, along with Arthur, Molly, Neville, and Kingsley had transformed the crypt of a house into a welcoming residence for anyone who needed a place to stay. At some point in the last three years, almost everyone who had been in Dumbledore's Army had crashed at the Potter residence. Dean and Seamus would owl ahead first when they were going to be in or near London. He hadn't realized what they two of them meant to one another until Luna, in Luna candid honest fashion, mentioned how she and Dean had broken it off because Well, it's not like I'm interested in Dean sexually but Seamus is and speaks quite openly about it. Who was I to interfere? Anyway, we're still friends even if we aren't copulating anymore.

The only ones who hadn't crashed at the Potter home for wayward Wizards and Witches were Lavender, Parvati, and Padma. The three of them shared a flat off of Diagon Alley. He hadn't known for a year that Lavender and Parvati were an item and it was serious. Padma? She was too busy working to bother, so she said. Harry had no reason to doubt her since she was at work in the Law Enforcement office more than Hermione was at her work desk.

Harry went downstairs to the basement kitchen and the long table they all shared meals at – when they were actually home. Kreacher was snoring hoarsely, cutting logs from the cupboard he made as his own flat. It made Harry's soul ache in traumatic memory but Kreacher said it was spacious and cosy, so he said often. On the shrunken door was the bright green and silver R badge that was previously affixed upon Regulus' door upstairs – at least until Harry removed it and gave it to Kreacher who asked for it to be on his door to his residence. Out of respect, Harry and anyone else living at Grimmauld Place would knock first and wait. Kreacher said it was never necessary but Harry insisted.

A huge helping of Cottage Pie was under a warming charm on the table, along with the beer and pumpkin juice he knew was in the cooling cabinet. Those would wait. He needed to see Ginny and probably Luna, too. They were rarely apart when they were both home, with and without him in bed with them.

When he was off at work, or out on an extended mission, invariably he'd come home and find the two witches snuggled in the shared bed, fast asleep. He didn't need to know that Ron and Hermione were asleep as well since 3 am was even too early for Hermione to be up and starting her day – and too late for Luna to still be up.

As he squeezed the Holly and Phoenix feather wand in his hand, he apparated up thirty feet to the landing outside his bedroom landing with a barely audible pop. He stepped into the loo across the landing and took care of washing a week's grime off of him and checking to see if the Healer had done their job properly. His job wasn't always a pushover and sometimes he and Ron would get hurt but tonight he was most fortunate. He was coming home in one piece, missing the women in his life fiercely, and ready to remedy that in so many ways. Ron had the week off, a result of the last mission when he was out with Smith for a fortnight chasing down leads.

He tossed the heavy cotton towel into the bin in the corner and threw on the heavy robe for the short walk across the landing. Too many accidents happened by seeing one or another out of their kit, much to his chagrin, that everyone kept a housecoat or three in the corresponding bathroom.

One tap on the knob of the bedroom door and he slipped inside, using his wand as a torch to see the room.

Luna had taken to heart to decorate every occupied room in the house, painting each in a way that made you feel the love of what a home meant to him. The Kitchen was in a spring Green with magical flowers blowing all around the walls, while the attic space that Luna used for her art, was a nightscape, in obsidian blue with little stars that aligned with how the stars rotated in the nighttime sky. The parlour was a warm reddish-brown, complementing the piecemeal furniture that they'd picked up here and there after tossing the rest of the decrepit moth-eaten furniture that probably been in the home a hundred years if not longer. Hermione showed a talent for scavenging the charity shops to find what they needed for the pittance they were all paid at the Ministry.

His room was an eclectic mix of brown and green and a hue of orange that Luna called "Ginny's hair." Somehow she'd made it work in their room, looking like the sunrise over Stoatshead Hill. He'd spent many a morning on that hill, watching the sunrise when he couldn't sleep, with Luna joining him with some tea, sitting quietly with him.

As he expected, Ginny and Luna were asleep in bed. His mind raced ahead, imagining Ginny wearing a pair of knickers and nothing else and Luna in her thin cotton nightgown that left little to the imagination. He dropped his robe on the floor on his side of the bed, wearing only his skin, and slid the glasses off too, placing them gently on the side table. With his wand, he lifted the bedclothes and slid into the immediate warmth of the bed and proceeded to tuck his wand under his pillow.

One calloused hand reached back for him, finding his stomach first. He wiggled across the bed to spoon up next to Ginny, feeling her unclothed arse pressing his manhood down.

"Happy to see you too, love," Harry whispered into her ear, smelling the cherry vanilla shampoo she preferred to use after practice. "Sorry about the time," his hand snaked across her warm ribs before collecting a handful of one ample breast. His own calloused fingertips worked over the tip of her breast, feeling it harden almost immediately. He swallowed hard; thinking of what he wanted to do yet Luna was there too, sleeping soundly on the other edge of the bed. While Luna never wavered and Ginny would roll her eyes, he felt butterflies about their living arrangement, having two women sharing his bed when he was in bed.

"She came to bed late. She won't wake, probably," Ginny leaned her head back to give Harry access to her neck. He dropped soft kisses on it, praying that Luna didn't wake. Not that he'd mind having both witches this morning but as knackered as he was, he might not last to satisfy both of them, at least the way he felt they deserved.

"I'm awake," Luna's soft voice startled both of them. "I wasn't quite asleep. I was dreaming and heard Harry rustling in the room," Luna rolled over onto her other side, looking at the two of them spooned up with one another. "You have your glasses off and are fondling her breast." Luna smiled that soft one that made him feel like he was 13 and didn't know how to talk to girls not named Hermione. "You start without me. I need to use the ladies'," she rolled back over and slid out of bed, wearing her thin nightgown and nothing else. She had her wand in her own hand, using the tip like a torch too as she padded out of the room to the loo across the landing.

"You heard her," Ginny smirked before rolling onto her back, giving Harry a look he guessed was a cheeky grin. It was hard to tell with his glasses off and only the streetlights through the curtains that gave any light in the darkened room. Ginny reached up and found a handful of scruffy beard and pulled him down onto her very welcoming body. He fell into her embrace, feeling the burning in his soul ready to set fire to his brain and his bollocks.

With her knees spread and her feet planted on the bed, Harry shifted and felt how slick she already was. Sadly he still didn't have the endurance he wanted, barely lasting two minutes on their first go. Fortunately Ginny was always hungry for him.

He felt her calloused fingers grip him, guiding him into her welcoming body. "Fuck," he groaned as he slid home, feeling every ridge embrace him in glorious ways. "Shit, this feels too good," he grunted, moving too fast already. He wasn't going to last at all tonight, not this first time. It had been too long, even with wanking to take some edge off.

"We have all morning. I don't have practice today. It is Monday, after all."

Something about Mondays was important but he couldn't be arsed to think of it at the moment, focusing only on Ginny. He bent his head down to take a breast into his mouth, sucking hard enough to make her grunt in response.

The band tightened, and wound up even more before exploding, forcing stars in his eyes and to blackout a moment.

When his breathing returned to some semblance of normal, and the room wasn't spinning like he was apparating without a license, he heard noises that sounded like lips smacking and high pitched moans. He reached for his glasses and shoved them on his face and saw Ginny and Luna a foot away on the bed, wrapped up in their own embrace. Luna had removed her nightgown, leaving her clad only in her skin and the pale light of bluebell fire in glassware on the tables.

He'd rolled onto his left side to watch the two witches have their early morning bits of fun. Each of them was an example of the beautiful feminine form, different yet both exquisite. While Ginny was endowed with ample curves and so much strength in her body from flying a broom at breakneck speeds for hours on end, Luna had fewer curves and more evocative in how she could just touch him and set sparks off. The paleness of her breasts contracted with the dusting of ginger freckles across Ginny's breasts and chest, making the various scars both of them had from the year from Hell with the Carrows disappear in the soft blue lights. But it wasn't how fierce they both were but the tenderness they shared with him. He would cry if he could articulate how each had their own magical touch with him. Luna was soft and evocative while Ginny was all passion and aggressiveness. Some mornings he wanted to be taken, tossed on the bed while lying back enjoying everything. Others he'd want four hands on him, barely touching to drive him spare. Luna though had it down to a science; her touch had magic he couldn't explain. But Ginny said the same thing, that Luna had a way about her that no one else had. She'd shrug, not understanding how she had such an effect on both of them, and continue with what she was doing.

Maybe it was just Luna and that was the extent of the possible explanation. He wasn't going to complain that two witches found him worth sharing his bed.

Luna reached out from snogging Ginny to pull Harry closer to them. As Harry snuggled in closer, Ginny slid down further into the bedclothes, finding Luna a willing participant. Harry pulled her face close to kiss her while Ginny used her lips and hands on Luna's body, from breasts to bum. And what an arse she had, so soft and almost ethereal.

Harry's slumbering dick woke from the first nap, greedily anticipating what was going to happen. They could shag daily and he'd never grow tired of it. Tired but not tired of loving these wonderful witches. And those witches who were adamant in how much they appreciated him.

Harry shifted from next to them to straddling Ginny's legs. Luna turned her attention back to Ginny, kissing her delicately as she moved her body down and lifted her arse in the air. A Luna sandwich, he privately thought, as Ginny continued to kiss Luna, savouring each one on her lips, cheeks, neck, breasts and more while Harry slid into Luna's welcoming body.

She keened, feeling Harry pressing hard onto her hips while Ginny sucked on her breasts.

He enjoyed the arrangement, where Ginny had firsts and didn't mind he would only last a minute or so because they could settle in and give love, pleasure, and joy to Luna. She told them often that they didn't need to include her in their fornication activities, as she not so casually described it, but they still insisted that their relationship arrangement included her in every way. Their three-way relationship was more than just sex. It was the late-night meals, the occasional snog, sleeping together to keep away the nightmares, and cuddles too, aside from sex. They mutually agreed this wasn't an arrangement of Harry and Ginny and Ginny and Luna. He didn't know what it was called and didn't care except that they would love one another equally, as well as have sex.

He was most glad that there were some private benefits to the Man who Lived. He looked past her hips, seeing Ginny looking up at him, smirking at him. He mouthed witch and she nodded before returning to using her hands and mouth on Luna.

He turned his attentions back to Luna, giving her what she wanted or how she wanted him. Her appetite for sex was much less than Ginny's, where Luna was satisfied once a week if not less, Ginny needed him daily if not twice a day.

Small squeaks of pleasure erupted along with nonsensical words that neither of them understood, except that Luna was displaying her appreciation for them. The two women were so different when it came to lovemaking. Luna preferred it softer but also wanted him to last longer. She said that she enjoyed the moments when she had both of them to please and tease her. Ginny, though, she wanted it rough and hard and occasionally questionable. Those moments, when the nightmares and flashbacks got too intense for her, the questionable actions helped her cope and calm down. He hated she needed that from him yet loved that she trusted him completely to help her through it.

Ginny leaned out from under Luna's breasts and blew him a kiss and made an obvious invitation with her mouth before smirking again and disappearing under Luna's writhing body. Within moments, Luna was moaning like the ghoul in the Weasley attic and for better reasons.

Harry slowed down, almost stopping before Luna collapsed, falling onto her face into the bedclothes on his other side. As he caught his breath, waiting for the grand finale called Ginny, he watched them snogging before a strong hand pushed him onto his back. He turned to take his glasses off and rolled back onto his back. Ginny moved to straddle him. "Better than a broom and much more pleasant," she growled.

"Figured this would be what you wanted," he cheeked. He sought out her breasts, feeling the tips harden under his calloused fingers before giving a pinch and a twist.

"Shut it and fuck me," she growled. She leaned over, covering his face with her hair. "It won't take too long."

"And I thought you were wanting to go for hours."

"Cheeky bastard," she ground down on his hips and he threw his head back into the pillow feeling her already wound up from earlier.

The bed wobbled some, and he didn't need to see that Luna was leaving for the loo.

"Did she leave?" He asked as Ginny was attacking his neck and working her way down to his chest.

"Yes," she said between moments of sucking on his nips, "she always leaves until I'm done. I've asked and all she says is, 'I don't want to intrude.'"

Harry ran his hands up and down her body, feeling every muscle under her toned flesh. Ginger hairs, which he couldn't see even if he had his glasses on and every possible candle in the house lit in the room, stood up under his fingertips. Yet he ran them down the middle of her body, drifting lower and lower.

"That all you got, Harry?"

"Would you rather rub one out while I fondle your breasts?"

Ginny slowed a moment before starting back up in earnest. "I'll take care of me and you can play with the bludgers."

"They aren't," his hands worked back up her body, feeling each muscle in her stomach as she moved above his body. "They're more like soft Quaffles, and better to hold onto." He wet two fingers on each hand and set to work on her breasts, twisting and tweaking them. "Wish I'd left my glasses on. I love watching you."

"I'll put on a show later this morning for you if you want," her voice was growing haggard. He knew she was close. He felt her shudder, bringing him to the point of exploding yet again.

"Harry," her voice broke and he twisted her nipples hard. She quivered before shuddering, her torso spasming. "Fuck," her moan would have woken the house if they hadn't put silencing charms on every surface and floor. He kept going through her eruption, hearing her squeal until stars in his eyes went supernova.

Darkness enveloped him.

Laboured breathing permeated the room. Crass words erupted every now and then. Two distinct hands ran up and down his belly, with two heads nestled in the crux of his arms.

"I'm leaving Saturday morning," Luna said out loud to no one in particular.

Harry roused first from the sweat-drenched bedclothes, opening his eyes and turning to his left. "Saturday? Where are you going?"

"I've, um, I've been invited to go along an expedition in northern Brasil. There is a colony of lethifolds in the rainforest that another researcher wants to study, and to update the Fantastic Beasts book."

"And they want you along?" Ginny asked, finally.

"I was invited, yes. But this," Luna lazily waved her hand around the room, making small sparks of pink sparkles drift from her fingertips, "but the researcher knows that I am interested in magical creatures and have some knowledge about them and might be able to assist them during field observations." Luna blinked. She kept blinking, looking like she was fighting back tears. "It's Newt Scamander's grandson, Rolf, and I didn't want to tell either of you because I was afraid of hurting you."

"Hurting us? Why would you say that?" Harry asked first, reaching out but not touching, letting Luna make the move to hold hands. She did but kept looking across his chest at Ginny.

"Well, I met him on the last trip, the one where I went to Patagonia for a month. He was staying at the same residence I was in Viedma while on break from the desert exploration. We stayed up late talking and we talked so much about Magizoology and he's so interesting and we get along so well and I think I might fancy him."

"Really?" Ginny's voice went soft.

"I think so. I still have trouble making friends. It's hard." Her candour twisted Harry's heart once again. "People hear my name and think I'm a raving lunatic and I'm not. I'm Luna but not that. Rolf seemed interested in things I was talking about, asking questions and making notes about what we were talking about. He showed an interest and that made me feel, well, special. I've not felt that in years, probably before Mum died.

"We were out in the desert, in a little place called Estancia Tapi Aike, investigating a magical village's complaint about missing muggles and it possibly be the work of a Vipertooth so we were off to the mountains north of El Calafete and Lago Argentino trying to see if there was a dragon nesting in the mountains. We had been out for a week and he decided that he needed a good cold mountain bath. I," she smiled softly, "I saw him out of his shirt and pants in the water and I felt something stirring when I saw him. It surprised me greatly since I normally don't have those kinds of feelings except for both of you. Well, he saw me see him in the water and waved to me and I decided why not so I dropped my robes and everything else and joined him for a swim and a bath of my own. And I didn't want to tell either of you because it would be the end of this, what we have with one another. If I decide to fornicate him for mutual benefit, I didn't want either of you think less of me. If I do, then we can't do this anymore, and not be fair to everyone." Luna looked at the bedclothes covering Harry's lower half. "And I think I might do so if he asks."

"We never would," Harry spoke up instantly. Silence lay across the bed like an heirloom quilt.

Luna turned back towards Ginny who had gone quiet. "Ginny?"

"Ginny?" Harry asked as well.

They watched as her ears turned red and the flush crossed her face and down her throat. She sat up at the headboard; emotions racing across her face like the snitch had been spotted.

"Ginny, what is it? Tell me." Luna stole a glance at Harry who appeared befuddled. "Please," her request sounded like a heartfelt prayer.

"I," her words broke off in an instant. Nothing was uttered no matter how screwed up her expression was.

"I shouldn't have said anything," Luna felt pangs of regret. She guessed this was going to happen and she couldn't take Ginny's pain away. "You're not losing me. I'm still your friend. I still love you. We just won't have sex often, or at all, if I decide to have sex with him. It's not that sex interests me like a primal driving force but it might him since I've heard him groaning and grunting late at night or early in the morning." Luna smiled. "Harry at least tries to be quiet when he's masturbating." Harry's face turned into a round aubergine. "You're so polite." Luna sat up at the headboard too, leaving Harry to watch them upside down.

"I'm being selfish," Ginny muttered before ripping her hand across her own face. "I knew this wouldn't be a forever thing. Fuck, I tore everyone and everything apart because I couldn't choose who I loved more. I love both of you so much, in different yet similar ways, but making a choice was like, like picking which brother I like the most. How could I make that choice when both are as important as breathing to me? It's like asking me which hand I need more. You're both so important and - "

"You're not losing me," Luna touched Ginny's face with tenderness. Ginny leaned into the touch, closing her eyes to her touch. "We've talked about this and I told you that if I met someone, I would see what happens. It's nothing to do with you and everything to do with me. My love for you doesn't diminish."

"Yes I am and it hurts," Ginny wept. "We'll not have this again."

"That's probable but it doesn't mean I don't love you," Luna smiled and turned to Harry, "and you too, Harry. While I love you physically which I know you enjoy, my feelings for you are different than what I have for Ginny. I've never been bashful in telling you that."

"I know and I'm glad for it." Harry leaned in for a soft kiss on Luna's cheek.

Ginny rolled over to the side of the bed, her hair a mess and covered in sweat, pulling the covers off of her toned body. "I need a minute," she muttered before leaving the bedroom for the loo across the landing. The door slammed with a muffled sorry coming through the oaken door a second later.

"I didn't mean to hurt Ginny," Luna spoke softly in the early morning light. Noise from the bathroom – spraying water from the shower – drifted into the room. "But I knew it wasn't right if we had this and I started having a sexual relationship with someone else."

"She knows that," Harry got up from the bed and found pants along with sleep trousers and a vest to put on from the wardrobe. "And we agreed to that on the front end, Luna. That's what I appreciate about you – your honesty and that you always speak your mind. It's refreshing to have that. And I'm glad you've met someone and that it might be more. I hope he treats you exactly like you need and want."

"It might not be anything but it might be what I've wanted." The bedclothes settled down onto her lap.

Harry stole one last look before turning to the wardrobe to pull out a heavy housecoat. "And you should see what happens. We shouldn't be the reason that we keep you from finding your own happiness with someone." He pulled a purple floral one from the wardrobe and handed it to Luna.

It dropped to the bedclothes, lost in her own head. "I already am," Luna looked towards the door across the landing. "I hope she won't hate me for this. I can't lose her as a friend. I would grieve a lifetime if that happened."

"She won't," Harry said immediately. "She will cope like she does, by being a fiend on the Quidditch pitch. I feel sorry for Ballycastle the following match. She's going to be on a thunderous rampage on the pitch. I hate that you're going to miss it."

"It's not like I won't stay with you when I'm back home. I will be back in England sometime and can watch a match or two."

"You'll always have a home with us, Luna. I would never tell you otherwise."

"What if she doesn't want to see me again? What if she says no? I know I wouldn't like that at all."

"That's a pile of dragonshite," Ginny came back into the room wearing an oversized towel around her body and another on her head, drying her hair. "There's not a day in my life I won't want to see you. And it might hurt to not have this again, your happiness is more important than any selfishness I crave."

Luna stood up from the bed and saw Harry steal out of the room silently. She focused on Ginny, whom she loved more than she loved herself. "You're not being greedy. I've told you, it's never selfish or greedy to want love and from more than one person. It's a beautiful part that the human heart can love more than one person at the same time, in the same or different ways.

"I love you so much and am so thankful for you and that you are so giving." Luna opened her arms and Ginny fell into them, sharing a long moment standing in the middle of the room. She dropped soft kisses on Ginny's head, each one punctuated with a tear falling down her cheeks. Her tears would be for later over what she was walking away from them but these were for her best friend. "And I never said we wouldn't cuddle and kiss. It's sex that won't happen if that is what happens with Rolf. I won't know unless I ask and he agrees, right?" Luna felt the semblance of a head nod on her chest. "You know how thankful I am for you and Harry, helping me get over what happened that terrible year. I thought I'd never trust people that way again and you changed that for me." Luna felt the hug grow tighter on her ribs. She would never grow tired or weary of a hug from Ginny.

Moments passed, with both weeping silently. Luna loved being the small spoon most of the time but now she was the bigger spoon, holding her lover as she shuddered in her towels in the middle of the bedroom. Thank goodness hugs would always be there. Ginny's hugs were special, like a warm blanket wrapped around you on a cold night.

Ginny's stomach rumbled loudly in the silence, breaking the moment between them. "Damn it," she grumbled. "You'd think this thing wouldn't control my life so much."

Luna smiled before placing a very gentle kiss on her lips. "I'm sure Harry's downstairs cooking breakfast. Why don't you see if he has and I'll go get a shower? I'm dying to tell you about the upcoming trip."

Ginny took her hand and squeezed it hard. "When you come down, I want to hear everything, including about this bloke who has caught your eye. He has to be incredible for you to consider him as a friend and more than just a passing acquaintance."

"He might be, but he'll never be you." She smiled. "I love you, so much. Thank you for understanding."

"I love you too and I want you to be happy. I do."

Luna smiled. "I'll be happy if you don't eat all of the beans and toast."

Luna left the room to Ginny's laughter.

One last demarcation line

Luna leaned over to pour another cup of tea and pluck up the last remaining ginger newt. "And that is how I had to break it off with your Mum and Dad before starting a relationship with my eventual partner."

Lily Luna sat there holding a pillow in her lap, looking like she just finished writing a nasty essay involving Draught of Living Death. She kept shaking her head in what was probably attempting to process everything her Godmother shared with her.

"Aunt Luna, you never said how you started with my parents?"

Luna glanced over Lily Luna's shoulder and watched Harry and Ginny standing in the doorway to the foyer, smiling at her. She turned her attention back to her namesake. "That, my dear, is another story. I don't know if they want me to talk about that since it's related to things that happened during the war and after it. You might not be ready for it. I admit it's very complicated. Some things should never be discussed outside of family anyway."

"When do you think I'll be ready?"

Luna stole another glance and watched Harry and Ginny looking between one another, silently conversing as they'd learned to do in the previous 20 some odd years together. Lily Luna turned to see her parents non-verbally communicating with one another.

Harry spoke up first. "We'll talk about that over dinner."

"You're staying, right Luna?" Ginny asked almost on top of Harry.

"Of course. Harry's cooking feels like home. Are dirigible plums are on the dessert menu tonight?"

Ginny threw her head back in roaring laughter while Harry guffawed. "I'll see if I can pluck some on that ancient broom we keep in the shed."

"We have dirigible plums in our garden?"

"Of course we do. Aunt Luna planted them the week we moved into this home. That was her housewarming gift to us, and our promise to her that she'd always have a home with us, no matter where in the world she might be."

#Dragon's Fic #Hpfic #Ginuarry #Harry J Potter #Ginny Weasley #Luna Lovegood #Lily Luna Potter #mentions of Deamus and Romione #Rated 18 / MA / E / NC-21 #Not Ace Safe #Don't read at work if you're working #Read at home in your PJ's if you're like me and staying home out of recommendations #Yes I have the luxury of working from home #helps when you have your own micro business #Though I'm sure my income will crater next 2 months #Won't mind #Queue Up for the Dragon

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punkscowardschampions · 4 years

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Sick Kids

ihatemyguts: Hey, who's about today? brainpain: 👀 brainpain: 👃 brainpain: 👅 ihatemyguts: Uncanny brainpain: I know ihatemyguts: Artistic endeavors keeping you busy? brainpain: [a selfie of her dramatic 🌈 makeup aesthetic] ihatemyguts: Okay but I'm gonna need a tutorial ihatemyguts: I never even mastered lipstick brainpain: I'll hook you up brainpain: check your private msgs ihatemyguts: 👍🙏 ihatemyguts: if my face is gonna be 🌚 from now on, it should really look pretty ihatemyguts: #juststeroidthings brainpain: it's a good face brainpain: + if I can rock a half shaved head with my brainpain: 👀 brainpain: 👃 brainpain: 👅 brainpain: not a time to still be alive brainpain: LMAO ihatemyguts: no doubt you rocked it so well everyone thought it was a choice brainpain: you gotta act like you're starting a 🌚 worshipping cult brainpain: I'll do a tutorial for that brainpain: full face of silver ihatemyguts: I can get down with that ihatemyguts: 🙌🌊🩸🐺🙌 ihatemyguts: am here on a bit of a recruitment mission, actually brainpain: my housemates & I are all synced 🩸 wise so you'd be doing me a favour, newbie brainpain: living battle royale over here brainpain: not trying to recruit you to fight to the death by my side though, we're good brainpain: what's the job? ihatemyguts: That sounds delightful, man ihatemyguts: also lowkey how has that never happened, not even with my ma ihatemyguts: clearly just that cold and standoffish she's like nah ihatemyguts: maybe I should wait 'til Zach is here too 'cos it was kinda his idea but if I give cred now, we're all good and I can take the blame if it's a big nope brainpain: you're still a 👶 not even gonna be synced with yourself yet brainpain: hold up I'll drag him by his curls brainpain: out there having a life like a real boy 😤 ihatemyguts: 😂 ihatemyguts: he'll get tricked into going to a weird Funland island and get turned into a donkey for his crimes, it's okay brainpain: sounds lit brainpain: [inandout has entered the chat] inandout: 🤥 ihatemyguts: How's your conscience? ihatemyguts: 🦗🦗🦗 inandout: 💎 clear ihatemyguts: 🤨 suspect inandout: you're not my wine mum inandout: or vodka aunt ihatemyguts: How rude ihatemyguts: Put some respect on your cult leader inandout: 🙇🙏 inandout: no food offerings ihatemyguts: safe bet gotspoons: 👋 I'm here! gotspoons: having a great day today, actually got energy, whaaaa?! 😲🤭 inandout: quick! float the idea while she's on cloud 9 gotspoons: You make me sound like an ogre, Zach 😜 gotspoons: what's going on? brainpain: Princess ogre ihatemyguts: Fiona ihatemyguts: v chic ihatemyguts: anyway, as we're all 👍 besides battle royale 🩸 ihatemyguts: we was thinking, and talking 'bout, a potential meetup ihatemyguts: thought we'd float it, see what y'all 💭 brainpain: I've got a 🍳 I'm 👍 + in ihatemyguts: which princess is that? one with crazy long hair, I 👀 it ihatemyguts: it could be cool, yeah? and why not, we'd have to make sure everyone who wants to can obvs or what's the point but apart from that brainpain: Princess me, unless the bleach makes it all fall out 😬 brainpain: [a very her style location] 📌🌎 inandout: we're not doing it there gotspoons: This is the problem, guys 😩 gotspoons: it would be really awesome but there is SO much planning you'd have to do to make it safe for everyone gotspoons: and picking a place for everyone that meets all the requirements inandout: we're willing to do all that inandout: planning + safety stuff ihatemyguts: totally ihatemyguts: like we could even go to a park or somewhere totally neutral ihatemyguts: or see if we can find some council-owned hall or something, 'cos places like that HAVE to be accessible ihatemyguts: I don't mind calling around and I bet Rich knows lots, and you will think of ALL the ways to keep EVERYONE safe and happy, right Rosie? brainpain: where I used to have support group would actually work brainpain: [a decent location that's like a community centre of something] ihatemyguts: 🙌 that looks legit ihatemyguts: if we explain what we're tryna do, bet they won't even charge us brainpain: I've got a hook up as ⭐ pupil brainpain: had my pick of those circle of chairs tigerbalm: 🙀🙀🙀🙀 tigerbalm: are we REALLY going to be able to meet up in person?! inandout: possibly gotspoons: How are we going to do this, IF we can gotspoons: you have to think about food and drink and seating and how we'd cover that, even if they did give us the venue for free inandout: I'm great with funds, it's assumed and expected gotspoons: but is that fair? gotspoons: I know some of us have none or very little inandout: I won't charge any of you a fee to come through the doors inandout: not that Jewish gotspoons: Oh, Zach! ihatemyguts: 🤑 is an accessibility issue, this should be a service, it should exist for free ihatemyguts: but it doesn't ihatemyguts: so if we can do this for ourselves, and offer it for free, for as little expense as possible ihatemyguts: maybe people will pull their finger out and consider actually doing their job ihatemyguts: you can write about it on your blog, get the word out brainpain: I'll fund-raise on stream, I've got your backs, nerds ihatemyguts: Right? High🖐 ihatemyguts: it's for US, so all of us that can, will put money into it ihatemyguts: no pressure on the ones that can't, fuck that, if anyone is gonna be that arsehole then they aren't welcome, yeah? tigerbalm: my parents have a people carrier, cos of course they do, but my creepy uncle won't be invited if any of y'all need rides ihatemyguts: 🤩🤩🤩 gotspoons: I'm going to do some research gotspoons: A LOT of research gotspoons: I would hate for anything to happen to anyone is this group tigerbalm: Where's Rich? tigerbalm: he would love to be on the front lines about this gotspoons: He would be a big help gotspoons: I feel like he had a uni thing today, an open day or something like that??? gotspoons: ugh my memory letting me down AS PER tigerbalm: how exciting! tigerbalm: I'll have to quiz him when he shows gotspoons: I know! gotspoons: He always checks in though, he'll be here later brainpain: Moving on, for those of us too brain damaged for further education gotspoons: 😔 brainpain: just me & my raging hormones LOL brainpain: he'll be such a happy nerd gotspoons: that's for sure gotspoons: he'll probably know so many answers to our questions already enablednotdisabled: I thought this group existed in lieu of an in-person group? brainpain: sup dude, it does enablednotdisabled: wouldn't it be potentially exclusionary to take this offline then? enablednotdisabled: realistically, there will be some of us who simply cannot get there inandout: if you wanna get there, we'll make it happen inandout: facetime you in if nothing else works enablednotdisabled: I'm not talking for myself, just others who might not feel confident enough to inandout: collective "you" inandout: we've all got phones enablednotdisabled: I just feel like this group can be quite us vs. them at times enablednotdisabled: hard to get heard if you aren't in the core group tigerbalm: There isn't a core group tigerbalm: everyone is listened to & respected enablednotdisabled: With all due respect, you are a part of it enablednotdisabled: so, of course, you feel that way enablednotdisabled: I'm not suggesting you can't break off and do your own thing, but the main chat of this forum that is meant to be for all of us, isn't the place for it brainpain: this group is what you make it, man brainpain: + the main chat brainpain: hit us with a topic you wanna talk about whenever inandout: it was brought up here so everyone knows they're invited ihatemyguts: I'm new and everyone I've found has been really receptive and welcoming to whatever I've had to say ihatemyguts: it sucks that you've not had that experience yourself but no one here is excluding you right now, least of all Robyn enablednotdisabled: There's a definite atmosphere here, whether you want to acknowledge it or not enablednotdisabled: the guidelines of what is expected and what is acceptable need to be clearer enablednotdisabled: and the moderators, who I've never actually witnessed in chat, should be quicker to put people on the right track, making this more therapeutic/beneficial to all, ban people if necessary brainpain: If you 🔎 hard enough for an atmosphere, it's findable brainpain: when you come in with a definite attitude of your own that's not gonna help none gotspoons: There's no need for us to have an argument, this is supposed to be a positive space gotspoons: if you have a complaint you'd like to make @enablednotdisabled, there is a link to contact the mods directly gotspoons: but I'd be happy to talk to you, privately if you'd prefer, and then we can take it from there? enablednotdisabled: I can handle my own complaints, thanks enablednotdisabled: and this isn't a positive space for me, and plenty other people I've talked to gotspoons: It hurts me to hear that, I'm really sorry and steps do need to be taken to attempt to rectify that then handicapable: I agree, it's cliquey here, unless you're one of the 'popular kids' or core group as @enablednotdisabled said, nobody cares handicapable: @ihatemyguts may be new but her finding a way in doesn't mean the walls aren't there for the rest of us handicapable: I barely log in any more gotspoons: Then let's tackle this culture head on gotspoons: do either of you have suggestions on how we could go about that, so I'm not dominating the conversation handicapable: You're not the one who dominates the conversation ihatemyguts: Don't think we need to @ people with specific comments like that ihatemyguts: not speaking for myself brainpain: @ me, baby brainpain: At least then I could defend myself brainpain: 🤐 though ihatemyguts: You've got the floor, like tigerbalm: It's not a safe space for Lauren if she can't say what she wants to say at risk of being accused of dominating the chat tigerbalm: either you want people to feel listened to or you don't ihatemyguts: And yeah, I am new, but I know Lauren, or anyone else in the chat rn, would not shoot you down if you wanted to change topic enablednotdisabled: It's about who always seems to be dictating the topic enablednotdisabled: we could change it, but then you feel like an interloper ihatemyguts: The conversation has to start somewhere, by someone ihatemyguts: @handicapable admitted to barely logging in now, of course the people who are here more will talk more, that's a given, it doesn't mean you're not allowed to contribute or come in to the convo ihatemyguts: there's no way to avoid that...prompts? mods only? that's not natural, or practical inandout: bible quotes inandout: 1 Peter 5:10 tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: Why are we quoting scripture? inandout: Lauren's been here for like 2 years but suddenly she's a disruptive force tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: Well that's bullshit tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: unless you're a incel on her stream brainpain: you know me brainpain: how was your open day, babe? brainpain: (unless I'm a domineering b word for asking) tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: Decent, despite the fact no one was expecting the wheelchair kid tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: despite the fact I called ahead tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: you can dominate me all you want but let me catch up with this apparent shitstorm I've missed brainpain: what a sexy proposition brainpain: I knew I'd missed you enablednotdisabled: Right, that's that conversation over then enablednotdisabled: 👌 brainpain: come on, man ihatemyguts: This is ridiculous ihatemyguts: people have formed meaningful relationships here, they're not allowed to acknowledge that in case someone feels left out, if you've talked to plenty of other people about the state of this forum, then clearly you've formed deeper bonds with them too ihatemyguts: no one here begrudges you that ihatemyguts: you're bound to get on with certain people over others, there's nothing discriminatory about that, it's to be expected tigerbalm: Like, are we supposed to take everything to PMs now? Cos I wanna hear about Rich's open day too but maybe he doesn't wanna type everything out to separate people lots of separate times ihatemyguts: ^You're just being rude, for the sake of it ihatemyguts: Rosie has offered to privately message about this, or you can put it all in an email to the mods tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: Okay tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: literally, 'we' (I'll include myself in this core group that you see, even if I don't see that as a valid argument), have done nothing to you two, have never excluded either of you tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: everyone here is welcoming, and was welcoming you before your complaints tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: which aren't rooted in anything I can see as factual tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: what's the actual issue here? you're just hitting out buzzwords handicapable: and you're just jumping to the defence of the girl you like flirting with brainpain: Whoa now! That's not all I am in here tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: See, that's multiple times you've personally made jabs at Lauren tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: none of us have made any comments on you two personally tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: it seems like you're more cliquey than us if you can't see her as a valued member of the group brainpain: I'm not gonna leave cos you want on Rich for being hot af brainpain: shoutout to the new girl for letting that be known though tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: Thank you, m'dear (somewhere between 🎩 and 🧢) tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: but thanks for implying I'm so desperate that I'd flirt with a girl I'd never seen before @handicapable tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: things are not quite that bad, I can assure you inandout: we're all that desperate, where have we heard that before? inandout: @normal people tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: and we don't deserve any relationships that are deeper than strictly clinical and professional inandout: which is why we don't need to talk to any one person more than once tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: Shout your grievances into the void and move on tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: but don't be too depressing about it ihatemyguts: This group doesn't work, you're right, just not for the reasons you're giving ihatemyguts: but we're all welcome to do what we must about making it work, even if I disagree with yours personally ihatemyguts: at least we try, and if you view us as an 'us' then you also view yourself as a group ihatemyguts: which isn't how I see it, or it's meant to be ihatemyguts: it's a group as a whole inandout: I wanted to organise a meet up to make things cooler inandout: sometimes you don't wanna shout shit into the void inandout: you wanna look someone in the eye when you're talking to them inandout: so you don't have to feel othered ihatemyguts: ^^ inandout: I get to do things with all my other friends inandout: that's what you guys are tigerbalm: I don't have other friends, I'm not saying it to make anyone 😿 tigerbalm: but I don't tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: you've got us tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: and we don't need to apologize for being friends tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: and I think meeting up is a really good idea, I'll be happy to help brainpain: It's okay, Robyn, none of us have done anything wrong gotspoons: I've contacted the moderators, I'll let you know when I get a response brainpain: I did too ✌️ gotspoons: Good, everyone who feels they need to, should gotspoons: I'm glad your open-day went well, Rich brainpain: me too, hot 🤓 tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: Thanks, guys tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: it's got potential tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: once I get there and make some changes, of course tigerbalm: 🙌 You go, Rich! 🧡 tigerbalm: not to use a banned word but you do inspire me for when I get to uni myself tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: We'll allow it, well I will because I love a compliment tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: and you'll be great when you do tigerbalm: I hope my parents won't make me stay local tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: If you don't want to, you shouldn't tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: don't let anything stop you tigerbalm: I'll try not to tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: when you need them, I can throw all the resources and info at you tigerbalm: thanks brainpain: Can we talk about me now cos that's the ONLY reason I'm here LMAO ihatemyguts: @Zach, gonna come at her with your famous line? inandout: you've built it up now ihatemyguts: 🙄 ugh, baby inandout: are we at pet names? cool ihatemyguts: 😂 shut up ihatemyguts: but don't, all voices welcome inandout: yours is dragon ball z inandout: for today ihatemyguts: romantic ihatemyguts: we're meant to be talking about Lauren inandout: Lauren's is low blow ihatemyguts: got a real talent, kid ihatemyguts: may as well do the entire group inandout: wouldn't wanna exclude anyone ihatemyguts: 😏 ihatemyguts: no one will be devastated about that, trust me inandout: damn inandout: or dang ihatemyguts: is that another group rule I've shamelessly flouted? 😬 brainpain: It's a me rule, dragon ball brainpain: you're safe in this safe space ihatemyguts: I'll do my best to mind my Ps & Qs ihatemyguts: 🤞 brainpain: you're fine I'm just aware of my 👵 status brainpain: don't wanna spook the 👶s ihatemyguts: thoughtful ihatemyguts: 👌 brainpain: who knew? brainpain: check me out, not being a huge b word ihatemyguts: honestly, disappointing brainpain: @ my exes ihatemyguts: they aren't here, are they ihatemyguts: @fibro not included brainpain: only my next brainpain: when I snag Rich for myself brainpain: gotta tame that playboy ihatemyguts: so many 💔💔💔 @ this news brainpain: long as you're not brainpain: he's too old for you, babe tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: I feel used tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: and yes, much too 👴 tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: be your ex-husband at this rate brainpain: I'm not gonna say, you can use me too, in front of the children brainpain: but mutual love & respect, boy tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: Shocking behaviour, Mrs brainpain: asking for discipline would also be over the line, sir gotspoons: OKAY gotspoons: putting a stop to this convo thank you gotspoons: 😳 gotspoons: 😳 gotspoons: 😳 gotspoons: 😳 gotspoons: have I covered it? brainpain: g dang it, Rich! Have I not been involved in enough controversy for one day? brainpain: turn away from me, you sexy beast gotspoons: you're very cute but terrible gotspoons: ogre princess putting her foot down on this one tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: I'll take the blame tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: rushing to your defense again brainpain: 😍 ihatemyguts: sure wish someone would run in and change the topic ihatemyguts: it's like mum and dad have had too much 🍷 inandout: could be a prime time for you to ask Robbie on your first date, dbz ihatemyguts: Oh yeah! 💡 tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: 💘 is in the air tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: careful, Zach ihatemyguts: Robyn, have you decided what you're gonna wear to your party yet? tigerbalm: I have a moodboard tigerbalm: would you like to see it? ihatemyguts: Um, absolutely tigerbalm: [that moodboard] ihatemyguts: So, you'd be up for going into town to try-on stuff, right? ihatemyguts: I can think of some shops with some unique stuff tigerbalm: 😺!!! ihatemyguts: Is that a yes 😺 or a I'm calling the police 😺? tigerbalm: I'd love to tigerbalm: my parents might call the police though ihatemyguts: that's alright, I've given you a fake name tigerbalm: they would think so tigerbalm: but their name choices are pretty boring ihatemyguts: at least you've got a super cute name ihatemyguts: if it'd make them feel better though, I'll come meet them or whatever tigerbalm: oh thanks x2 tigerbalm: that's so nice ihatemyguts: 'course ihatemyguts: who doesn't like shopping? inandout: I don't inandout: that much ihatemyguts: that'll be why you didn't ask yourself inandout: I would never third wheel your date inandout: very uncool ihatemyguts: well, if anyone does wanna come along, that'd be alright brainpain: happy to invite myself into any convo or situation ihatemyguts: 🤓 or 😎 ihatemyguts: you could do our makeup ihatemyguts: because not joking about the trainwreck it is when I do ihatemyguts: 🤡 not the theme brainpain: to avoid a spooky 🤡 resurge brainpain: I shall gotspoons: 😱😱😱😱 gotspoons: I hate clowns tigerbalm: SAME! my brothers love the 🤡🎈 films but I can't watch 🙀 gotspoons: Nooooooo gotspoons: even the advert was scary tigerbalm: ever since I went to the 🎪🐘🤡🍿 as a child I'm like traumatised inandout: once I got dragged along when my parents went shopping for a sofa and there was a clown there inandout: as a mascot or something gotspoons: 😭 THAT'S HORRIFYING inandout: fever dreams are made of this inandout: he kept trying to ruffle my hair ihatemyguts: definitely a bad omen ihatemyguts: that clown was there to warn you about...something inandout: I'm not classing it as a date though, you still get to go first inandout: the warning'll simply be my impending death ihatemyguts: your first bad omen ihatemyguts: n'awh inandout: cute, right? ihatemyguts: 🐭 🐹 🐰 inandout: 🐿🦔 ihatemyguts: 🦄 brainpain: sure, I'll chaperone you two brainpain: ✨ ihatemyguts: result brainpain: arms length, Zachary gotspoons: I feel like I'm on a dating site brainpain: there'd be way more fibros if we were gotspoons: I've never even attempted to date gotspoons: such a minefield brainpain: if you change your mind, I'll get my sister to list off which ones to avoid brainpain: she feeds me a new spooky story weekly gotspoons: see, it's bad enough without the added 'who I am' drama brainpain: get yourself a love interest with more 🚑💊💉 drama than you, that's what I do brainpain: you're the chill one by comparison gotspoons: Rich is still here lurking, you know 🤭 brainpain: he knows what we have is deep + meaningful tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: 👌 tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: very serious brainpain: I'm coaching Rosie for her first venture into dating not discussing our lengthy but ultimately doomed love affair tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: doomed because 💀💀 or doomed because someone will join the group with ultimate 🚑💊💉 drama and better hair? brainpain: @Zach with that death clock bs brainpain: doomed cos you'll meet a hot 🤓 at uni brainpain: nobody has better hair than either of us tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: Okay then, I won't be pre-offended and call you out on that nonsense brainpain: that isn't a promise that you'll still have time for me brainpain: we're all waiting, Rich tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: depends how hot and how nerdy this university girl is, of course brainpain: Profess your undying love for me or get out, honestly tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: 😏 tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: Rosie will shut it down again brainpain: 😉 tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: She's a hater 💔 gotspoons: 😱 Rich! gotspoons: I'm very supportive brainpain: LOL gotspoons: 😥 gotspoons: I love love brainpain: you're a 🧸 brainpain: I love you, Rosemary brainpain: feel free to ignore my husband gotspoons: I ❤️ 🧡 💛 💚 💙 💜 you all too gotspoons: even if you test my nerves sometimes, it's only in a good way 😅 tigerbalm: So, if one of us had a 'normal' crush, would that be doomed? tigerbalm: asking for a friend 😳 gotspoons: OF COURSE NOT gotspoons: you're beautiful gotspoons: spill spill! tigerbalm: there isn't much to say except his running route goes past my house tigerbalm: we've 👋 at each other but no conversation has happened gotspoons: HOW EXCITING ihatemyguts: You've gotta talk to him ihatemyguts: such a meet-cute tigerbalm: I have no idea what I would say ihatemyguts: a hello to go with the 👋 to start ihatemyguts: you'll know what to do tigerbalm: a 'how are you?' to follow but what then? ihatemyguts: something like...you run this route often? ihatemyguts: do you run anywhere else? ihatemyguts: are you single? tigerbalm: 🐱 gotspoons: Oh! gotspoons: What does he look like? gotspoons: Can you take a picture? gotspoons: No, perhaps not gotspoons: I've got snap happy now 😅 tigerbalm: I'll try if I can do it without anyone else noticing tigerbalm: it's okay if my cat judges me, but no humans tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: I cannot officially endorse this behaviour, ladies tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: but I'm sure he would be very flattered and consider himself lucky, Robyn tigerbalm: Oh Rich, you're such a big softie 😸 brainpain: LMAO brainpain: forget the boy, I want pics of your cat tigerbalm: [cat pics] 🧡 inandout: that is a potentially judgemental looking moggy, be careful tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: girl or boy? tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: he or she is very distinguished looking, I feel tigerbalm: me & my mum were feeling outnumbered, so she got adopted too tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: fight the power ✊ tigerbalm: I have rabbits too but they would probably encourage me, they're pretty naughty tigerbalm: for fairness tigerbalm: [rabbit pics] brainpain: I had 🐭🐭 as a kid brainpain: LOVED those critters brainpain: [picture of kiddo Lauren with mice on her shoulders] ihatemyguts: I wish I was allowed pets with fur ihatemyguts: scales only inandout: I'm not either inandout: my brother's allergic ihatemyguts: maybe we have the same brother ihatemyguts: slightly concerned now inandout: yours isn't as old as mine, we know that inandout: unless some kind of freaky time loop or something has happened ihatemyguts: I'm you in a parallel universe inandout: before I agree to co-sign, do you have any pets with scales? ihatemyguts: 🐉 🐲 inandout: cool inandout: I accept our parallel lives ihatemyguts: [pics of your dragons 'cos probably have one each lowkey] inandout: if I'm the only petless one in the "core" I will have to hang my head ihatemyguts: you can have joint custody ihatemyguts: don't worry inandout: pet names + a pet share? What a day ihatemyguts: v generous inandout: I'm making that discovery ihatemyguts: 🎁🔍 inandout: I wish we were doing a treasure hunt inandout: that's gonna be date 4 ihatemyguts: challenge accepted ihatemyguts: you gotta find the treasure outside then rehide it though ihatemyguts: more fun inandout: rules accepted ihatemyguts: if you happen to find 💰💎🏺🧭🔮🧿📿 then we'll bury it inandout: what happens if I find a 🗝? ihatemyguts: #5 finding the 🚪 or 🔓 it fits brainpain: Wait, how many dates am I chaperoning you 👶🤓s for? brainpain: gotta find a ✏️ to write this down ihatemyguts: technically, Zach wants to wait 'til he's not 🔞 ihatemyguts: unless you're well dedicated to protect and serve ihatemyguts: also plenty of time to lose that 📄 inandout: don't listen to her, the first date is Robbie's party and we've all 📅 ihatemyguts: might be a double date ihatemyguts: 💃🏃 tigerbalm: I'm so happy that you're both coming! tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: Of course they're not missing the event of the season tigerbalm: 😸😺 tigerbalm: I better plan some more tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: It is your forte tigerbalm: compliments are yours tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: and hair tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: humility, less so brainpain: I can vouch for that being why we're soulmates tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: it's the way you can dominate a conversation tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: like a girl with something to say brainpain: 😏 tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: Tease brainpain: you'd be into it if I were tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: now she speaks 🤫 tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: If Rosie isn't sleeping she'll be 😖 brainpain: I know how to behave, you're the bad influence here tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: Gladly take that reputation tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: much worse could be said about me brainpain: catch that 2nd wave of drama when the haters log back in tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: I hope so brainpain: only cos you missed the kick off tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: Not taking politics for nothing brainpain: they can 🔫 @ me if it means you get your 🎓 babe tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: long as I can 🛡 without being fibro about it brainpain: you did tooexhaustedtolivevicariously: 👍 gotspoons: I was thinking gotspoons: maybe if we make more boards for specific topics, that would be better? gotspoons: then the chat could be just that, a casual chat that isn't necessarily disability related but us related, as people gotspoons: what do you guys think? brainpain: I'm in inandout: me too inandout: I was gonna make a similar suggestion but it was my last idea that started everything earlier gotspoons: It's not your fault, Zach gotspoons: I just need to do some admin, update the site tigerbalm: I can help if you need any gotspoons: Thanks, Robbie

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