#like no maybe june is not too calm. i like her shes funny and weird and my friend :-) i love her random facts even though they

[anticomedygarden]

England's got a new queen! part 3

part one | ao3 link

-

"And here's the room where Nixon told his family he was gonna resign," June says, gesturing into the dark room.

"Lovely," Pez says brightly.

"It's also the room where Nancy Reagan found out Ronald Reagan was shot," Nora adds.

"Even better." He turns to June, and his light purple hair - the hair that he apparently dyed especially for this trip - catches the light. It looks good. "I trust I'm not staying in a room that has anything to do with either of those men?"

"Of course not," June assures him. "You're staying with me."

Pez raises an eyebrow. "Oh? And where are you staying?" he asks Nora.

"Alex's room." When the entire White House Trio is staying at the Residence, she has her own room, but when Alex isn't there, she moves everything in there to the left five degrees. She's up to 20, and he hasn't said anything.

It's exhilarating.

They finally reach June's room so Pez can dump his stuff, and June fires off more texts to Bea, Alex, and Henry in the hopes that something gets through. Nora isn't optimistic.

"Hey, are either of you hungry? It's just about lunchti-"

A blaring alarm pierces through the rest of June's words, and they all jump.  

"That's the fire alarm," June says, brown eyes wide.

"Should we not be running?" Pez asks, calm demeanor visibly straining. Nora can't blame him. This was supposed to be safer than his apartment.

"What if it's a ploy to get us all outside and in one place?" June points out.

They all stare at each other, wasting possibly precious time. There's no one else in this part of the building at this time of day, so it's not like they can ask someone what to do.

Just then, the sound of firetrucks and other emergency vehicles makes itself known over the still blaring fire alarm, and suddenly, the whole situation seems a lot more real.

Nora does the math. "Run."

-

The next day, Henry and Alex don't even consider going back to the trails. They don't even decide what to do with their day until about 1 p.m., an hour after they get up.

They don't mean to stay in bed that long; they're legs just hurt really bad.

At the kitchen island, Henry looks up from his pancakes. "I was thinking we could go swimming today."

Alex nearly groans at the thought of more exercise. "Are you sure? Yesterday was a lot."

Henry nods. "Swimming is good for sore muscles, and there's a pond near here."

Oh god, Alex didn't even think of the walk to get there. It better not be too bad because Cash left a note before they got up that he was already on the trails.

Henry must sense his thoughts, because he hurries to say, "The pond isn't even a quarter mile from here."

Still not ideal, but, "That sounds fine."

Which is how, 30 minutes later, Alex is shucking off his shirt and shoes and jumping into glittering blue water, Henry right behind him.

When he resurfaces, Henry is right next to him, and Alex has the sudden urge to grab onto him and not let go.

Huh. Trauma has a funny way of showing itself, doesn't it? It's not like they haven't been back to the lake house since 2020 or that he can't be around water without getting anxious. In fact, they've mostly managed to work through a lot of the problems that had stemmed from that trip. Maybe it's the isolation leaving no distractions, or the annoyingly fresh air making his mind work faster that's bringing back the memories, or maybe it's the weird/bad feeling that still won't go away.

Whatever it is, he tries to reassure himself that Henry would never leave again, which he knows. That, and he literally can't leave, not without at least alerting Cash and making lots of noise.

Anyway, Alex doesn't even try to resist the urge and pounces on his boyfriend, pulling them both under. They struggle for a few minutes before popping back up for air. Henry may take a knee to the stomach, but Alex certainly can't be blamed under these conditions.

They wrestle for a while longer and then relax while treading water, and they even play a rather violent game of Marco Polo.

By the time they go back to the cabin, they're both pleasantly tired, and Alex can't even remember why he ever felt uneasy in the first place.

-

All three of them take off running toward the nearest staircase, Nora in the lead.

"Are you sure we shouldn't wait and make sure it's safe? I don't want to be assassinated," June shouts over the sirens and alarms.

"Better assassinated than burned to death by a fucking building fire!" Nora reasons, and is 100% right.

Pez breaks in. "I agree. Assassination means you made it."

"I want a third option!" June exclaims.

If only there was one.

It doesn't take long to get to an exit, and soon they're out on the back lawn along with various staffers.

Oh, and there's Zahra.

"What is going on?" June demands, ignoring the phone pressed to her ear.

Zahra holds up a finger, and they wait for her to finish her phone call.

"Mhm...yeah...yep, okay, love you, bye." She hangs up and faces them. "What do you want?"

"Hold on, was that Shaan?" Pez asks gleefully. He shares Alex's obsession with Shaan and Zahra, and, honestly, it's kinda hilarious. It's become somewhat of a norm for one of them to text the group chat with some stupid update like, "Zahra is reading The Catcher in the Rye," or, "Shaan is sexting Zahra again." Nora wouldn't say it's one of the reasons she gets up in the morning, but...it totally is.

Zahra ignores Pez and turns to June. Good choice. "What do you want?"

"What's going on?" June asks again.

Zahra holds her hands up in the air. "The fire alarm went off."

"Thanks, that's helpful," June deadpans. "Do you know anything else?"

Zahra rolls her eyes. "As of thirty seconds ago, everyone we know that was in the Residence is fine and on the front lawn."

They all breathe a sigh of relief. "Do we know if-"

Once again, June is cut off, this time by Zahra's phone.

"Hello?...Okay...yes, ma'am, they're with me...okay...great, we're on our way." She hangs up and shoves her phone in her pocket, and they wait for her to tell them what's going on. "Good news. There's no fire."

It sounds like good news, but Nora's mind immediately goes to murder. She asks, "Does that mean someone pulled the alarm on purpose, like, maybe to get us all outside in the same place?"

"No, a cook accidentally started a grease fire."

They all cheer. "Yay!"

So much for the murder theory, although they really can't rule it out yet. Still, though, Nora allows herself to relax. Just a little.

Of course, it has to end. All their phones buzz at the same time, and they glance at each other nervously.

It's a news update.

Pipe burst spotted at Buckingham Palace amidst Queen's sudden illness. Royal family remains silent.

She looks back up to see the others' worried faces.

It's practically official.

Something terrible is going on here.

-

When they get back to the cabin, Henry goes to shower, and Alex goes to start dinner, and he really means to. Really.

But, while he's looking through the cupboards for pots (of which there are none) and pans (of which there are nine), he happens to find a cupboard full of marshmallows, Hershey's bars, and graham crackers.

He can't be blamed if he starts building the fire instead of building dinner. Besides, Cash is right there with him.

"This is damn good," the bodyguard says as he stretches his legs out in front of him. The man somehow isn't deathly sore even after hiking all day. "Where'd you find this stuff?"

Alex grins. "In one of the cupboards. None of it's even expired yet."

"Nice."

A few minutes later, Henry comes out of the cabin followed closely by David who immediately runs up to Alex to beg for food. Alex breaks off a piece of graham cracker for him.

"I thought you were making dinner," Henry says.

Alex waves his marshmallow stick at him. "I did."

Henry just laughs.

-

Bea Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor is having an absolutely wonderful time. After all, her least favorite person in the world may finally be doing her place justice, Bea and her sister-in-law are bonding for once over the general horribleness of said least favourite person, and she is currently watching her older brother run around like a chicken with its head cut off as a burst pipe that could very well be an act of terror destroys a centuries old palace.

"Then there was this one time before our wedding when she asked me how the weight loss was going," Martha says, rolling her glass through her fingers. "Mind you, I was underweight at the time from stress and could barely keep down crackers."

Bea rolls her eyes in sympathy. She may not have been particularly fond of her brother's chosen person at first, but she has since learned that the woman has depth, particularly since she started working with charities dedicated to lessening the impact of eating disorders.

"That's right, Philip, perhaps some paper towels will fix it," Bea calls when he emerges from the flooded side again with a roll of paper towels tucked under an arm. Martha giggles beside her, mimosa in one hand.

"I was trying to save an antique rug," he snipes. "Besides, I don't see you helping."

"The only thing that can help right now are sandbags and the world's best plumber." She sips her water while Martha questions Philip on the pipe, but Bea imagines the situation is much the same as it was an hour ago when they first heard the boom.

See, the pipe didn't simply burst. It exploded in one of the sitting rooms, creating a small geyser and a massive hole in the wall. Probably millions of dollars worth of old furniture had been destroyed, but thankfully nothing particularly important to history. The bigger problem is that it was still leaking. With minimal staff, it had been up to them to take care of it, and Bea had gladly allowed Philip to take the reins.

Now, though, looking at his damp hair and sad little roll of paper towels, she feels completely justified. It really is a hilarious situation they've gotten into.

She tunes back into Philip and Martha's conversation just in time to hear, "Any news on the Queen?"

Philip fidgets a bit, a sign of deep discomfort in a man made to go through prince training. "Mum said she's getting worse."

Shyly, he looks down, and Bea revisits a thought she had when they were first made aware of Mary's sudden ailment.

Her brother probably isn't taking the news as well as Bea, and he may actually be hurting at the idea of her death.

She swallows her pride and says, "I'm sorry to hear that."

Philip waves her away, face pinched. "You don't have to pretend for me. I'll be fine."

Strangely, Bea believes him, and one look at Martha tells her her sister-in-law feels the same way.

Just then, Princess Catherine emerges from a corridor to the left looking forlorn.

It's still odd for Bea to see her mother being an active participant in anything, and she almost feels bad that this is one of things Catherine has to return to. Her mother has been taking it remarkably well, though, almost as if she had been waiting for it since getting back in the game. Bea is actually quite proud of her.

Back in the present, they all stand, snapping to attention.

"How is she?" Philip asks.

Catherine sighs. "Much the same."

"Is her blood work back yet?"

"No. It seems whatever lab we're using is running every test imaginable, or they just haven't figured it out and don't want to tell us."

Bea decides to break in. "What did you come out here to tell us, Mum?" She's been in with Gran almost this whole time; something must be up.

Catherine sighs again. "An entire PPO team called in sick."

There are three identical noises of shock and outrage, and Bea says, "Do you think it could be related?"

She hadn't really believed the murder theory, but if their security is now partially out, it may be time to consider it.

"I don't know," Catherine says carefully.

Before she can continue, Philip says, "Of course it is. The Queen is dying, security is understaffed, and no one can contact Henry. It can't be a coincidence anymore."

"Not so fast," Catherine says, holding up a hand. "All of the ones that called out were contacted and are indeed visibly sick."

Bea wonders what that means. Perhaps an inspector went to each individual house and waited for them to vomit.

"Is that proof, though?" Martha asks nervously. "Could they not have been nefariously exposed? It seems an awful coincidence that both security and Her Majesty end up like this at the same time."

Bea has to take a moment to appreciate her sister-in-law using the word 'nefariously' in the same breath as calling the Queen 'Her Majesty,' the same woman she had described as an 'arrogant little shithead' not five minutes ago.

Philip nods. "Yes, exactly. If anything, this is just further proof of a plot regardless of the intentions of our PPOs."

This time, Catherine doesn't disagree, and Bea knows that they are well and truly screwed.

#firstprince #rwrb #alex claremont diaz #henry fox mountchristen windsor #red white and royal blue #casey mcquiston #fanfic #rwrb fanfic #firstprince fanfic #ao3 link #my fic #my writing #my fanfic #henry and alex #henry x alex #alex x henry #rwrb fic #firstprince fic #fluff #angst #humor #alex and henry #nora holleran #june claremont diaz #percy okonjo #pez rwrb #pez okonjo #bea fox mountchristen windsor

[a-a-2020]

Since it’s June and Pride Month, I want to share mine and Ariana‘s story. My name is Amanda. My birthday is July 9th, 1996, and I’m a cancer. Ariana is my girlfriend! Her birthday is November 19th, 1993, and she’s a Scorpio, for those interested.

Before I met Ari, I would say I wasn’t the best person I could be. I was doing things I wouldn’t consider things I personally should be/ wanted to be doing. August 11th, 2020 I decided I wanted to change myself. I decided I was stronger than addiction. I struggled there on after for about a month or so. Summer was calming down and so was I. I was in bed a lot. Cried a lot. Regretted a lot. All in all, mentally I was down and slowly climbing up. Also, I had broken up with my ex not too long before all of this, like July-ish? Anyway, I was trying to be a hoe… emphasis on the “trying.” I say this because Ari decided to show up September 5th, 2020. It’s funny, you can tell when I met her because my camera roll goes from selfies of me and pictures of weird Amanda shit to screenshots of her and pictures with her. We had a grand time ever since then. Hanging out, getting to know each other more, digging deep into each other’s minds and hearts and just learning about one another.

This sounds amazing, right? Like how does this sound like a story to read? Just keep reading.

She was… married. 😱

Nah really, she was married. She was trying to figure out herself (maybe I’ll talk her into writing her side to all of this because maybe someone needs to hear it!) We’re going to call him X. I don’t feel it comfortable within myself to out him because we are civil! X had left to be stationed in a different country for a year or so. Ari was looking for girl-friends really. People she could hang out with and also people who were interested in her business! She was a health and life coach at this time so she wanted new clients. She was dipping into her sexuality a little bit too 👀

I will say Ari has always known she was a little gay, but she was married to a man. She also had two little girls, ages 1 and 3 at the time. So even the thought of changing this lifestyle was hard as ever. Well, here I come. I’m interested in her business AND interested in her. With a lot of work within their marriage, the thought of polyamory was spoken into existence. Now, before this I had not done much research in this subject and I was overall sad. I was sad I wouldn’t get Ari to myself, I was being selfish in a way. Ariana would just say “be patient.” Patience is something I’m learning within this life time, and this was going to be a huge lesson for me. From this time until March 11th, 2021, we were a poly couple. It was called a V type situation in the polyamory world. Ari was the tip and we were her points. X and I had no relation other than being civil for the children, which I’ll probably talk about later. X had been doing his own thing while being overseas during this time and ended up falling in love with a girl he met. March 11th is the day they decided it would be best for them to no longer continue with their marriage and they would be separated. I, as you could believe, was over joyed, but I also knew this was a whole new thing that was coming into mine and Ari’s relationship- the hurt and pain from this. She was hurt for a while and may still be a little hurt from the pain he caused. I wouldn’t blame her. He admitted to cheating on her their 10 year marriage with over 20 people and mentally and physically abusing her during that time too.

Ariana is one of the strongest people I have ever met. Going through all this and coming out on top. She was never really allowed to do anything she wanted because X never really let her. She’s very spiritual and full of wisdom and knowledge that needs to be spread to people. People need to hear her story of coming from nothing and building her own empire.

As mentioned, I’ll talk about my babies: The CHILDREN! I LOVE these two little girls with everything in me. The oldest is about to be 5 now and the youngest is about to be 3 and I’ve been there from the moment I stepped in. I met them and at first sight I knew they were going to be a big part of my life. I never take my eyes off of them, I take the oldest to and from school, we have day dates where I hang out with each one individually, and much more is done with them. Since X has been overseas, he has visited one time in the past almost two years, and the youngest was almost scared of him. He calls almost everyday, except the weekends when him and his girl are getting drunk, but since the babies are young, their attention span to talk on the phone is about five minutes and what does a 3 year old say on the phone? I just know I’m supposed to be in these girls lives for some reason. And I’m learning A LOT from them and I HOPE they’re learning a lot from me as well.

I felt MANY emotions throughout this entire process. I have felt the saddest I’ve ever felt in my life at one point. I was so angry. There was a point where I thought Ariana and I couldn’t be together at all because obviously she was married and maybe even wanted to try to fix her marriage, but there was something about Ari that I just couldn’t shake. I knew I not just wanted her but I needed her. If y’all believe in past lives, keep reading this paragraph, if not, you can skip down 😂 but I strongly feel as if we were hippies in the Woodstock era and I died from the same thing I struggled from, but BEAT, in this life time. I was obviously a man with long beautiful blonde hair and a rocking cool beard and she was my beautiful flower girlfriend with an amazing flower crown and danced all the time.

Ariana and I started dating in real life on September 21st, 2020. Today is June 19, 2022 and I’m happy to say that it is also Father’s Day and I’m celebrating and being celebrated as well. It feels nice to be noticed and acknowledged as almost a father figure in these girls lives. I love Ariana so much, man. Like, it’s so much. I’ve never felt anything like I feel for her. I moved in with her and her girls a while ago and X stays overseas still. I have an amazing job as a dog bather/ almost groomer.

I’m not sure if I’m ✨really a female✨ I just want to be Amanda. I am just whatever I am, I honestly don’t have a gender so I’m sure I’m more non binary than anything and that is me coming out, again, as I guess both female and male.

I love everyone and I hope those who read take something away from this! There is hope at the end of the tunnel and love is there when you least expect it. I never knew like… I could be loved as much as Ariana loves me. I feel beyond loved- more love than I ever could imagine getting from someone. We raise the girls together, we date, we communicate so well, the trust is unreal, and the other stuff is what I would consider my perfect. I would take this roller coaster over anything else because my TROPHY is Ariana. I absolutely love this woman with everything in me. My advice: just wait. It’s just right around the corner.

#pride #positivity #LGBT #poly relationship #polyamarous #rollercoaster #happy wife happy life #love is all around #loveislove #pride month #pride 2022 #happy pride 🌈 #nonbinary

[damonjuicyscock]

To The End - (Chapter 12: It could be you)

Pairing: 90's Damon Albarn x Reader

Warnings: Language, drug use, angst, maybe some spelling mistakes.

Summary: You are Damon Albarn's girlfriend. The charity soccer match happens,Y/N and Damon are addicted to heroin, Damon talks about his wishes, they're going on a trip to Iceland, and finally, something bad happens during Blur's tour.

Words: 2145

A/N: Hello guys, hope you're doing fine. Here's chapter 12. It's one of the saddest ones (yes there will be others), Also I'm announcing that the dilf Damon fan fic is on it's way and will be published soon. I'm also working on the other fics about Liam and Noel.

Enjoy !

“All we want is to be happy In our homes like happy families Be the man on the beach with the world at his feet Yes, it could be you, oh-oh-oh”

May 16th 1996-London:

Huh…I kinda love and hate to talk about this. The charity soccer match, what a fucking day.

Damon and I arrived before the catastrophe, and by catastrophe, I mean Liam Gallagher.

Happily, this fancying war was over, but the Britpop war was still definitely here. Other good news for me, Liam had a girlfriend, dearest Patsy Kensit. I thank her everyday, she kind of saved me too.

What was weird, is that Liam became kinda cool with me, and wasn’t a dickhead with me anymore. Gladly.

Damon and I weren’t high, but I was shitfaced from the day before.

I sat with my sunglasses on in the stands. A lot of fans were here to support their favourite bands and singers. Damon looked tired, but he was okay running around the stadium, trying hard to catch the ball when he could. I would definitely say he was running like a squirrel. Okay, I’m a bit mean saying this.

And Mr Catastrophe arrived. It was chaotic. Fans were cheering them up with screams or by singing their songs.

- Is this sit taken? I heard

I looked at my right

- Noel, Hey!

I tried not to be awkward knowing what I did during our last encounter and simply hugged him. After all, for me, this kiss meant nothing at all.

- Let me introduce me lovely Meg.

Behind him was a tall, fit and beautiful blonde girl.

- Nice to finally meet you Meg! Noel has told me a lot about you, I already adore you! I said before hugging her too.

I surprised her, but she responded to my hug and smiled at me.

- Nice to finally meet you too Y/N. You came to see your boyfriend play soccer?

- He’s my fiancé now, but yup, it’s the blonde squirrel running over… Noel! Look at this! I said, panicked

- What?

He looked in my direction and bloody scenarios ran in my head.

Liam was standing in front of Damon, and I first thought they would finally fight. But they were both too proud for that. I felt relieved when Liam walked away from my lovely fiancé and started playing again. Liam knew how to play soccer when he wasn’t falling, I can’t deny it.

At a moment, Liam and Damon got close again.

- Geez, why can’t they just split, it’s fucking stressing me!

- Calm down Y/N, they won’t fight. At least, not here.

They held hands, and I was actually asking myself what the fuck was happening. Then Damon threw his arm around Liam’s shoulder. Liam did the same, but with his arm around Damon’s hip, while they were walking back to the stadium. It was until this prick pulled Damon’s pants down.

I was speechless, my mouth agape when I saw that, while Noel bursted out laughing.

- This is so Liam like!

- Hey, that’s not funny! I said

- Yes it is! He answered, still laughing

- Okay, it was. I answered, myself starting to laugh.

*

June 1996:

When Blur were in studio to rehearse, I was with them, keeping my one-year-old cousin Claire. She was a sweetheart, and I could see how Damon was looking at us. When we got home, and after getting high once more, the topic came.

- You seem to get along with your cousin!

- Claire is adorable.

- I can’t wait to see you with our child.

- Wow, who talked about having children here?

- No wait, maybe not right now, but, you must have already thought about us having kids, no?

- Not now, that’s certain, Damon, we’re probably too high to talk about this.

- You didn’t really answer my question Y/N.

I sighed

- Yes Dames, I thought about it, but we’re clearly not ready! Look at us! We’re high on heroin and…

- And?

- We’re kinda still kids, we’re way too young for that.

- Love, I’ll be 30 in two years, you in three. We’re not kids anymore.

- Yes, I don’t know, maybe, but I’m not ready. I’m sorry, but now, having children is not my priority. Let time take care of that. And let’s marry first like it’s planned.

Maybe I was too high, but I swear I saw his face show something between sadness and disgust.

- Are you okay my love? I asked

- Yeah, fine. Just thought we were on the same page. He said frustrated

- We are! I didn’t say I don’t want to have kids, just…not now, I’m not ready.

- Yeah I got that.

- What did you want me to say? That I want to conceive right now?

- No, but I thought that maybe, right when we would be married, we would try.

I gripped his hand.

- Listen Dames, don’t be disappointed. I promise we will have children, and that the moment I’ll start thinking about it, we'll try. And at first, we have to stop to chase the beetle.

- It’s hard, it makes me creative.

- Yeah it’s hard for me too.

A silence settled in.

- We really have to plan our wedding. He said

- Yeah, yeah we have to.

*

September 1996:

We had already been here once, it had been his dream. Damon had told me many times about his dreams of black sand beaches. We were back here in Iceland, for a Blur gig. Damon decided we would stay for a while. We found ourselves going on this beach in Reynisfjara, 2 hours and a half from Reykjavik. I was the one who drove. When we first came before, I saw how different Damon was. Not a child but someone I never met before. And on this beach, it was like he belonged here. I knew deep inside me he would probably buy a house here or even come to live here. And to be true, I was ready to follow him everywhere he went. After all, that’s what I already did.

When we arrived on this black sand beach, he immediately grabbed my hand.

- You’ve followed me everywhere, even in my biggest crazy dream.

- Wherever you’ll go, I’ll follow. I answered

- Do you know what I’m thinking about right now?

- Tell me.

- We could marry here.

I looked at this wonderful landscape around me.

- I’d love to, but what about our guests?

- We’ll make two ceremonies, here with the boys who would be our witnesses and another, with the other guests in London.

- Don’t make it too expensive Dames.

- I won’t, I promise. After the next album’s release and all the stuff that goes with plus buying a house here, we will, I promise.

- You said you wouldn’t make it expensive.

- I only talked about our wedding. Don’t tell me you wouldn’t like to wake up in here, and breathe the fresh air.

- I would, but only if I’m with you.

We passionately kissed, thinking about our future as a married couple, and about our dreams, knowing we both shared them.

*

Eventually, the boys joined us in Iceland where we stood, to rehearse the rest of the album until November 1996. That’s where Damon wrote about our 5 days on 7 demon. Yes, Beetlebum. We told about our wedding plan to the boys who gladly accepted to be our witnesses. A new year was coming. It would be the beginning of the end.

*

1997- Blur tour

We were high most of the time, after parties with heroin and alcohol were the meaning of arguments that often led to make up sex. Yeah, that’s were it began.

We had our most violent argument when I told Damon I had to leave the tour for a day to assist to Noel and Meg’s wedding. Oh no, he was clearly not happy about it.

- Oh so you prefer to give up on me for a day to see your fucking Mancunian lover then?

- First of all, he’s not my lover Damon! and second, He’s getting fucking married! Why can’t you just trust me ?

- It isn’t you I don’t trust, it’s him! He shouted

- I already told you he’s getting married! I’ll be joining you the day after, I won’t be this far! I’ll be in Las Vegas!

- Las Vegas ?! A reason more ! Do you know what it’s like in there?

- Oh come on love you know me ! I won’t do anything bad !

- You won’t go here, period. He answered dryly

- Well Damon, it’s not up to you to decide, because I’ll go. I answered the same

- What did you just say? He said in a threatening tone

- I said, I’ll go. I repeated

A devilish smile appeared on his face

- You know what ? Fine. But don’t even bother to come back then, because if you do, we won’t be engaged anymore, we won’t even be a couple, and I’ll go fuck all the girls I want just like you fuck your Gallagher.

My heart broke. I mean, it literally broke. Just keep reading, you’ll understand.

Maybe he didn’t love me like he said. But the shock was so hard to bear that my breath got stuck in my throat, and I fell on the ground. Damon was already gone elsewhere. Tears started running down my face, but I didn’t know. It’s like I was out of my own body. It was way too violent for me. In that corridor where we argued, I was left alone.

That’s where my saviour or guardian angel came, and saw me suffocating with my own tears. Graham. He ran to me.

- Y/N, You’re okay?

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t.

- Y/N! Do you hear me?

I just nodded.

- Hey, please breathe. Take deep breaths. What happened?

When I finally “breathed”, a panic attack invaded me. I was now hyperventilating and entirely breaking down. Graham took me in his arms.

- Damon! Damon where the fuck are you you twat?! Come here!

But Damon couldn’t hear him. Someone caught Graham’s eye and came towards us.

- Is she okay?

- No please, find Damon and bring him here. Graham answered to the man.

And from then on, everything stopped and went black. I fainted.

- Oi Y/N, stay with us! Graham said giving little slaps on my cheeks

What also stopped what the hyperventilation that was possessing my body. Graham saw it, and saw that my body wasn’t moving, there was no breathing reflex. I wasn’t breathing anymore, my heart stopped beating, I was dying.

- Oh no no no, not this Y/N! Someone call a fucking ambulance! He yelled.

He laid me on the ground and started to give me artificial respiration and a cardiac massage.

Apparently, Damon arrived at this moment, and the only thing he saw was that Graham was on top of me.

- What the fuck are you doing? He yelled at Graham

- She isn’t breathing you prick! I’m trying to save her life!

Damon started to panic and approached my lifeless body.

- No no no no no, Y/N! What’s happening?

- She was crying and had a panic attack when I was looking for you. The man who first heard Graham said

Damon started crying.

- Fuck…We just argued, I…

- Do you want her to die? Call a fucking ambulance! Graham yelled again

Damon went to grab the hotel room’s phone and called 911, because we where in San Francisco. He came back with Alex.

- What the fuck happened between you two, Again? Alex asked

- I… We were arguing because she wants to go to Las Vegas for Noel Gallagher’s wedding…

- And? Graham asked while he was still massaging my poor body to bring me back to life

- And I said horrible things to her, like if she was going, I’ll break up with her and I’ll go fuck all the girls I wanted. He said, breaking down

- For fuck’s sake Damon! you've done well this time! What the fuck was wrong with you? Graham yelled at him

- I don’t know, just bring her back! He said, his voice broken by the tears.

I started breathing again. I opened my eyes two minutes after.

- Y/N? Y/N can you hear me? Damon asked

My answer was a single tear running down my face.

- You scared the shit out of us! Alex said

Dave arrived with the emergency assistants who laid me on a stretcher and took me to the hospital.

#damon albarn #damon albarn smut #damon albarn x reader #damon albarn fanfic #alex james #blur band #dave rowntree #graham coxon #britpop #gorillaz #Spotify

[santacarlahorrorshow]

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

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

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

Word Count: 6.2k

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

Masterlist / Read on AO3

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

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

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

Of course, you didn't count on Pennywise.  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Hello?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#it: chapter two #it 2019 #ben hanscom x reader #richie tozier & reader #richie tozier x eddie kaspbrak #reader insert #it #it imagine #reader imagine #the losers club #the losers x reader #reader insert fanfiction #it fanfiction

[maylovexhs]

everytime - IT IS WHAT IT IS (Chp. 34)

Author’s Note: OH MY GOD. I NEVER RECIEVED SO MANY LIKES ON A CHAPTER LIKE LAST ONE’S BEFORE. SO JUST THANK YOU! I’M SO HAPPY AT LEAST ONE PERSON LIKES MY STORY. ANYWAYS, HERE’S ANOTHER ONE FOR YOU. HOPE YOU ENJOY - MAY

Catch up on everytime here

NYC. November 15th, 2019. 1 PM.

*Y/N’S POV*

“I’m one of your best friends, aren’t I?”

“Why do you ignore me for him?”

“I’m not ignoring you, H”

“Y/N”

“My friends would never act like this”

“Y/N?”

“Neither would mine”

“Hello, Earth to Y/N” I heard Ali say.

I looked up from my coffee to Ali and Izzy.

“What?” I asked Ali.

“What do you think?” Ali asked me.

Umm, what were we talking about again? Last thing I remember was just sitting down at the table in this cafe.

“Should I take the job or not?” Izzy asked me.

Oh, Izzy’s job. Right . . .

“I don’t know” I said. “That’s up to you”

Ali rolled her eyes at me.

“That doesn’t help” Ali said.

“Sorry” I said. “I just have a lot on my mind. Didn’t get much sleep”

That was true. I didn’t get much sleep. How could I when I had Harry’s and I’s last conversation on repeat on my head? He basically said I was horrible. I wasn’t horrible. Yes, I knew I was wrong for introducing to my friends so late but Ashton’s my boyfriend. Of course, Ashton met them sooner than he did. And Harry met Ali so many times already. Not to mention, all the times I’ve been on FaceTime with her and Izzy in front of him.

“What’s wrong?” Izzy asked me.

“Nothing” I said. “Just some Harry drama”

“What did he do this time?” Ali asked me. “He has a girlfriend you don’t like?”

“No, no” I shook my head at her. “Why the hell would I be mad about that?”

“You were once” Ali said.

“That was four years ago” I said.

“What happened?” Izzy asked me.

I bit my lip. How was I going to make this simple?

“Am I a bad friend?” I asked them. “Harry thinks I’m a bad friend to him”

“Why would he think that?” Izzy asked me. “You’re always so nice to us”

“He got mad that Ashton met you guys before he did” I said. “He said I was a bad friend for introducing him to you both sooner”

“Didn’t you tell me about this before?” Ali asked me.

“Am I a bad friend or not?” I asked them. “Just answer the question”

Izzy and Ali looked to each other. Izzy sat back in the chair.

“Yes and no” Ali said. “Listen, Harry does have a point. It took forever for him to meet all your close friends. Talha met you both after two months”

I sat back in my chair, crossing my arms.

“But Harry and you have always been in and out of loop” Ali said. “So, you can’t really blame yourself”

“And why would Harry still be friends with you  if he thought you were a bad friend?” Izzy added. “You couldn’t be that bad to him”

I looked down, contemplating.

Izzy was right. Why would Harry still be my friend if he thought I was so bad? And why was I still friends with him if he makes me feel so guilty?

“Anyways, what do you think Izzy should do?” Ali asked me. “We helped you with your problem, help her”

I looked to Izzy. I forced myself to smile.

“Is it worth it?” I asked her. “To leave the one you have now?”

“I think so” Izzy said. “I’m worried because I don’t know how it will go. I can’t turn back to my old job if I don’t like it”

I looked to Ali and back to Izzy.

“Take it” I said. “If it is really worth it, nothing should stop you”

“That’s it?” Ali asked me. “That’s your advice?”

I nodded.

“Do you mind if I leave early?” I asked them. “I have something to check”

“You could if you want to be a bad friend to us” Ali commented.

I squinted my eyes at her. I got up from the table.

“I paid for you coffee, didn’t I?” I asked her.

“Just go” Izzy said. “We’ll see you Sunday anyways”

I smiled at Izzy.

“Mhmm” I nodded.

I took my coffee and turned from them. I walked away, taking a few steps before I heard Ali say something.

“I never understood them two” Ali said. “Harry’s so bad for her but she is still with him.”

My smile faded.

I didn’t understand either. And I wanted to know why too.

AN HOUR LATER . . .

I came back home. The first thing I did was go my bedroom and took out my box of journals.

Yes, my journals. I always had them nearby. Whenever I had a problem, I always turned to them. They helped me out a lot, actually. They helped me with when I got in a fight with Ali more than once. They helped me with my parents. Now, I hoped they helped me find the reason I was still friends with Harry.

I already knew Harry and I shared a special friendship. God knows how many times we crossed paths and had our ups and down but I always found to be asking myself why I still let Harry into my life after everything. Harry hurt me so much in the past but so have I hurt him. Maybe him more than me but my point is - why do I still stick around?

I poured my box of journals on my bed. I had about five journals. My first one was from a red journal from 2008 to 2010. My second was blue, 2010 to 2011. Third, black and from 2012 to 2014. Fourth, green, 2015-2017. And the fifth and yellow one is right next to my bed. 2018 till now. But I only cared for the black and green journals in front of me. I picked up the black journal.

I met Harry in 2013. February 2013. The day of the Brits. I met him at an after party. Let’s start there.

I opened my journal, flipping through pages until I saw Harry’s name.

February 21, 2013. Brits were last night. Didn’t win international female but that doesn’t matter. I’m still happy. (Also my therapist said I should try not base my happiness off of success) But I’m happy because I have a new friend. Harry Styles. Yes, the same Harry Styles I bumped into when I was with Dominic and the same one from one direction. That one. Funny story is, he’s Nick friend. I met Nick at an after party and Harry was there. Next thing, I know is I’m at BBC radio station having drunk conversations with Harry. Is it weird I already feel comfortable around him? Like comfortable as in I already know him? I never felt this way before except when I met Ali. Is Harry my new best friend???

I flipped three pages, seeing Harry’s name again.

April 4th, 2013. Ugh, just came back from a museum. I’m so tired but I want to write this down before I fall asleep. Harry. Rita. Tickles. Drink. Shirt Ruined. Harry’s lucky I like him and Rita’s kinda a friend so I won’t kill them. Anyways, my birthday’s in a week. I’m leaving in two days to go back home to New York. Goodnight.

I shook my head, smiling.

I remember that day. Harry was so sorry that he poured his drink on me. He said he didn’t mean it. I knew he didn’t. Rita just happened to tickle him from behind and of course, I was in front of Harry and he spilled his drink on me. Harry practically followed me into the bathroom to wash the drink off my shirt. . . Oh, Y/N. You’re going to get mad at him again.

I flipped through my journal more. I stopped at an entry from the end of 2013.

December 6, 2013. Just found out Harry’s hanging around Kendall Jenner. He told at dinner tonight. Not that I care who Harry hangs out with . . . Why should I? I’m dating Robert anyways. But I feel protective. I just feel like Harry should be hanging out with more . . . good people. People who won’t take advantage of him. . . I don’t trust Kendall. Something about her and her family irks me. According to Twitter, I’m not the only one.

I bit my lip.

A jealous me. Why did I have to land on that?

I shut my journal, putting it down and picking up my 2015-2017. I remember I was on tour for the majority of 2014. Nothing really happened between Harry and I that year. 2015, on the other hand . . .

I opened my journal and flipped through the first few pages.

March 15, 2015. I broke up with Matt. It’s wrong to keep him from his job. If you really love someone, you shouldn’t hold them back. That’s the right thing to do. But why does it feel so bad? Why does it hurt so much? It’s the right thing to do but it hurts so much it feels wrong. . . I told Harry about it. He’s the only one in LA I can trust except Lisa. His girlfriend broke up with him too. I mean, ex-girlfriend. They broke up two weeks ago so, at least I have someone who is going through the same thing as me. . . This is for the best. It has to be for the best.

I flipped to June, remembering that month so clear. It was when I realized I fell for Harry. And when he broke my heart for the first time.

June 11, 2015. I think I’m in love with him. Harry. I never thought I would be but I guess I’ve always did. The last few months just made me realize it. Harry has a strange effect on me. He knows what’s wrong the second he sees me. He knows how to calm me down. He knows how to make me feel better and happy in a way no one has before. I just feel like he gets me. I feel understood by him. Special. The last few months, I felt like shit trying to get over Matt. I did, in the end but I fell for Harry in the process too. I started to feel like I’ve felt for him a few ago actually. I didn’t actually want to believe it. I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to ruin my friendship with him over some feelings that could change. And a part of me thinks Harry could never love me back. I mean, I’m broken. My parents are shit. My friends are crazy and so am I. I have attachment issues. I can’t let anyone in and when I do, I can’t let them leave because of the pain. But my feelings for Harry didn’t change and I had to do something about that. I was fighting with myself for the last week if I should tell him and I decided, I am. I’m going to tell him when he gets his break from tour. I deserve to be happy. He makes me happy. I think I make him happy too.

I looked at the next date I wrote.

June 17, 2015. He doesn’t love me. I told him and he said he didn’t think of me like that. He said he was talking to another girl anyways. I saw the girl today. Pictures of them came out today. She’s a Victoria Secret model. . . I don’t want to talk about it.

I felt my eyes water up a bit but I quickly flipped towards September. Harry and I were not quite done. We never were.

September 16, 2015. Harry called me today. . . Yup, after two months of not talking to him, he called me. He said he was sorry and realized he had feelings for me too. He wants to give us a try. Crazy thing is that I said yes. Listen, I’ve tried forgetting Harry. I dived into work, I went out with Ali and Sophia to clubs. Still can’t get him out of my head. Maybe I was meant to wait until he realized his feelings. I just want to be happy, even if it means giving him a second chance. Who knows what it will take us . . . By the way, Ali’s pissed.

I flipped to October.

October 25, 2015. Harry broke up with me. He said as much as he tried, he couldn’t love me back. He said something was missing. I knew something was missing too. We didn’t have that passion I had with my exes. Not that I expected it’s just . . . I thought we love me back. He didn’t.

I turned to January, 2016.

January 3rd, 2016. Kendall and Harry. Harry could be with her and not me? Who the fuck did he think I was? Just a step to get fucked? Was that who I was to him? What did she have that I didn’t? Sure, she was a model and skinner and taller but I’m me. I was his best friend for the last three years. She wasn’t! I was there for Harry when his heart was broken. I’ve seen him cry. Did she? Fuck her. And Fuck Harry. This is the last straw. He can have her all he wants. He won’t have me though. Not anymore.

I looked up from the page.

I wasn’t a bad friend. If I was, Harry was worse. Harry rejected me. He made me feel like I didn’t matter. He forgot about me. What kind of friend does that? I wouldn’t . . . Why was I still here though? I forgave Harry. I forgave him a long time ago. Why did I care about what he did if I’m still his friend?

I looked down at the page. I flipped back to the June 11, 2015 entry.

I think I’m in love with him. Harry. I never thought I would be but I guess I’ve always did. The last few months just made me realize it.

I had to be over Harry. I was sure of it. I was way off happier with Felix. I am with Ashton too. But if I didn’t like, or love, Harry anymore . . . why would I be here? I’ve been through enough of his shit. So why on Earth am I still friends with him if I didn’t like him a bit? Did I love him a bit? I loved him like a best friend but like that? No, no, no. Unless . . .

I never thought I would be but I guess I’ve always did.

What if I did love Harry? Why did I love Ashton more then? Why didn’t I care what Harry would think of Ashton then? I would care for Harry more than Ashton.

I looked down at my journal again. I knew the answer.

I flipped to 2017. September 2017.

September 20, 2017. I don’t like being pregnant. I feel so emotional. . . I talked to Harry again. Well, actually I listened to Harry’s album first and then, I called him. We went out for lunch. I hate to admit it but I missed him. Hearing his voice sing made me realize it. I know we haven’t had the best relationship but . . . we have something. Something rare. We just get each other. I don’t know how to explain it. I’ve always felt something was there but I could never describe it. It’s like something has always pulled us to each other. We bring out the best, and sometimes the worst, but mostly the best in each other. . . I don’t want to lose all that for how stupid we were two years ago. Harry was twenty-one, he was supposed to not take relationships serious. I was twenty-six. I was too old chasing something that could never be. We’re different now and I’m happy with what I have now. Felix and our soon to be bundle of joy. That’s what Felix has been calling her/him. Anyways, back to the point - Harry. I’ll always want to be his friend. I loved him once and I’ll always love him. Not like that but there’s a little part of him that has my heart. Don’t all lovers do? I should tell Felix about what happened now. He invited us to his concert tomorrow and I really really don’t want to go alone.

I blinked at the page, knowing the answer all along.

Harry always had a piece of my heart. I’ve loved him and a part of me will always will. I will always be there for him, just as I have. Six years, on and off, I was always there. He was there for me too.

I  grabbed a nearby pen, outlining some of the page. I carefully ripped it out and folded it. I closed my journal, putting it down on the table. I got up and looked for my little leather backbag. I did find it and put the paper inside, closing it.

I knew the answer. Harry was going to know too.

*HARRY’S POV*

I didn’t dare call Y/N today. I wanted to but I knew it was better I shouldn’t. I knew Y/N long enough to know that she needed space to calm down. I did too.

I was a dickhead. To Y/N and Ashton. It was wrong of me to tell Ashton about Felix. It was Y/N’s choice when and how she should tell him. I shouldn’t have acted so hostile towards them to begin with. I was upset with Y/N and took it out on her and Ashton. I knew I deserved to be upset at Y/N but I should have just talked to her alone about it. I didn’t and now I looked like an asshole.

KNOCK KNOCK.

I looked to my dressing room’s door.

“Come in!” I said.

The door opened, revealing Heidi.

“Hey!” Heidi said.

“Hi” I said, getting up from the couch. “Don’t I still have fifteen minutes?”

“Oh, you do” Heidi said. “Just came over to ask  if you’re okay”

“Yeah” I said, smiling but a little confused. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well, I saw you and Y/N had a little fight last night” Heidi said. “Didn’t mean to see but I was leaving and-“

“Oh, no, it’s okay” I said, lying. “We just had a little argument. We talked after, we’re fine”

We weren’t. I had no idea if we were going to be fine really. Normally, when we did get into fights, we both don’t talk for days until someone finally breaks and admits they’re sorry. Y/N always forgave me whenever I apologized. The thing now is I don’t know if she will forgive me if I did say sorry. How could she if I didn’t forgive myself either?

“You’re sure?” Heidi asked me. “Because it didn’t look like it”

“I’m one hundred percent sure we’re okay” I said to Heidi. “She said she’s coming tomorrow for the show”

“Oh, she is?” Heidi asked me.

I nodded.

“Yeah” I said. “I actually told her about-“

BRINGGG. BRINGGG.

I looked to the dressing room’s table. I watched my phone vibrate on the table. I looked back to Heidi.

“Do you mind if I-“

“Oh, take it” Heidi said. “I’ll see you in a few minutes”

I nodded at her. Heidi left, closing the door. I walked over to the table, picking up my phone.

Y/N was calling me.

I answered her call immediately. I pressed my phone to my ear.

“Hi” I said.

“Hi” I heard Y/N say in a low voice. “I thought you wouldn’t answer”

“Me?” I asked her. “Aren’t you’re the one upset at me?”

“I was . . .” Y/N said. “I wanted to talk to you about that”

“Me too” I said. “I’m sorry about last night. I didn’t mean to act like an asshole to Ashton and you. I was just angry and I should have just talked to you about it in the first place”

“No, I’m sorry” I heard Y/N say. “You’re right to be mad at me. I would be pissed off at you too if I completely ignored if you got a new girlfriend?”

“You didn’t though” I said. “I was just jealous-“

I heard a knock on my door.

“Ten minutes!” I heard one of the crew members say.

I sighed.

“Listen, Y/N. I’m sorry.” I said. “I was completely wrong. Can we talk about this later? I’m on call in a few minutes-“

“Yeah, sure” Y/N said. “I feel like we should talk about this in person anyways”

“So, your place?” I asked her. “I get off at seven. Could be there latest at eight”

“Yeah” Y/N said. “I’ll be waiting. See you soon”

“See you soon” I said.

Y/N hung up on me. I put my phone back down.

She forgave me. And in less than a week. I guess I had nothing to worry about . . . did I?

9 PM.

I walked in seeing Y/N sitting on her living room floor. Pages of papers were scattered in front of her.

“Hey” I said to her.

“Hi” Y/N said back, smiling.

“What are you on the floor for?” I asked her.

“I was writing” Y/N said. “I don’t know but I always find myself being more honest sitting on the floor”

“Were you writing about us?” I asked her.

“Something like that” Y/N said.

I smiled at her. I kicked off my shoes. I walked over and sat down on the floor next to her. I looked down at one of the pages. I picked one up, reading it.

“I won't pretend it's all your fault, when you were there through it all” I read. “I messed things up, I always do, but it was always you”

Y/N smiled at me.

“Like I said,” Y/N said. “Something like that”

I laid the paper back down on the floor.

I looked to Y/N, who was already staring at me.

“I’m sorry” Y/N said. “You were right. I’ve been a horrible friend to you. I didn’t think I would hurt you by letting Ashton meet my friends so soon. I’m sorry I forgot about you when I was with him”

I shook my head at her.

“No, no, no” I said. “I’m the horrible one here. I know you wanted me to meet your friends sooner than I did. I shouldn’t been mad at you because Ashton met them. I was just insecure and jealous of him. I thought that you would forget about me and he was going to replace me”

Y/N lightly smiled at me.

“H, he could never replace you” Y/N said. “How could he? You’ve always been there for me. No matter what happens, you will always be there. Every time we lose each other, we always find our way back.”

Y/N looked down.

“I’m not going to lie” Y/N said. “There were times I did hate you. You did horrible things and I wished I could forget you but as much as I tried to . . . I couldn’t”

Y/N picked a folded paper off from the floor. She looked to me, handing it to me.

“It’s actually funny,” Y/N said. “I found myself asking myself earlier why I was still friends with you. But I knew the answer a long time ago”

I took the paper from her. I unfolded it and started to read what was on the page.

September 20, 2017. I don’t like being pregnant. I feel so emotional. . . I talked to Harry again. Well, actually I listened to Harry’s album first and then, I called him. We went out for lunch. I hate to admit it but I missed him. Hearing his voice sing made me realize it. I know we haven’t had the best relationship but . . . we have something. Something rare. We just get each other. I don’t know how to explain it. I’ve always felt something was there but I could never describe it. It’s like something has always pulled us to each other. We bring out the best, and sometimes the worst, but mostly the best in each other. . . I don’t want to lose all that for how stupid we were two years ago. Harry was twenty-one, he was supposed to not take relationships serious. I was twenty-six. I was too old chasing something that could never be. We’re different now and I’m happy with what I have now. Felix and our soon to be bundle of joy. That’s what Felix has been calling her/him. Anyways, back to the point - Harry. I’ll always want to be his friend. I loved him once and I’ll always love him. Not like that but there’s a little part of him that has my heart. Don’t all lovers do? I should tell Felix about what happened now. He invited us to his concert tomorrow and I really really don’t want to go alone.

I felt my heart jolt. That same jolt I last felt in the summer. It was back but this one felt more . . . more tender.

I looked to Y/N.

“The underlined lines are the important ones” Y/N said.

“You wrote this?” I asked her. “When you were with Felix?”

She nodded.

“You don’t have to worry about Ashton” Y/N said. “You always have a special place in my heart. You always did”

I looked at Y/N’s lips. Why did they look so tempting to kiss?

“The last thing I want is to lose you” Y/N said. “I almost did once and I think it nearly broke both of us”

I stared into her eyes. God, her eyes. Every time I looked into them, I felt safe. Home.

“Nearly?” I asked her. “Didn’t you hear my heart break in that song?”

Y/N smiled at me. She leaned into me, hugging me.

“I love you, H” Y/N said. “You’re my best friend. I can never forget you”

I wrapped my arms around her. I felt another jolt run through my heart.

“I love you too” I said.

And I don’t think it’s in that way anymore.

#hs imagine #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #hs imagines #harry styles one shot #hs one shot #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #hs fanfiction #hs fanfic #everytime chapters #everytime HS

[satsuki2406]

Dear Aomi Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

"I've seen you in a dream before, you are the warm and bright presence that embraced me on Cape Kamui a long time ago on a June afternoon."

Shinohara (Y/N) is a normal girl who had everything she could ask for, a loving family, a beautiful home, friends, and a fluffy cat. For a long time, she gave her life and happiness for granted, never imagining that she'll face one of the worst and crueler facades of society so closely, destroying what once was a happy, harmonious and normal family. One day, in hopes to recover what they lost, the Shinohara family took one of the more difficult decisions of their lives; leave behind their home back in Hokkaido and travel hundreds of miles south until Musutafu, the place that could grant them a solution and help close the yet fresh wound and scare away the ghosts of the past. Hardheaded, passionate, and ambitious (Y/N) is forced to confront the incarnated face of the superhuman society that she hated the most; Bakugou Katsuki.

PAIRING: (Bakugou Katsuki x Reader)

GENRE/WARNINGS: Romance, Fluff, Angst, Dark Themes, My poor attempt of humor, Strong language (Courtesy of Lord Explosion Murder 💥), Manga Spoilers, LONG ass chapter.

STATUS: On going

Chapter 1: School is a Great Place to Make Enemies

Chapter 2: My Stupid Classmate, The Angry Dandelion

Chapter 3:In Conclusion, This Day Was...

Masterlist \(￣︶￣*\))

4: Welcome to The Neighborhood

The salty breeze caressed (Y/N) face in a wavy motion mixing with the relaxing sound of waves crashing down the coastline. Along with her steady and calm breathing, those were the only things she could perceive in the endless darkness flooding her eyes.

‘A dream?’

Suddenly, her eyelids started to flutter little by little showing her a pretty familiar scenery. A long and meandering trail lay was in front of her, surrounded by the expanse of an endless blue sea. An old wood railing was the only thing shielding (Y/N) from a deadly fall to the humongous rocks nested around the rocky and long structure.

‘Cape Kamui? Again? Why do I keep dreaming of this place?! I haven’t been here in years! Do I miss my old home so much that my brain continues to bring me here? But, it looks so real…’

All of sudden, with the corner of her eye (Y/N) caught the silhouette of someone in the distance, they were with their back turned to her looking at the scenery without a care. That right there was new. This had become a recurrent dream since she moved, but in all the other occasions (Y/N) was there by her own, not a single soul was there, and now an unknown presence awaited ahead.

‘Should I talk to them? Well, I guess is worthed a try.’

With vacillating steps, (Y/N) walked forward to the mysterious entity, as she started to move along the slightly narrow path. Suddenly the wind became more and more agitated as she advanced, her hair moved haphazardly blocking her view frequently. Soon walking became more difficult forcing her to stay still, tightly gripping the railing. The blue and clear sky over her became gray and clouded.

‘What the hell?! Maybe if I try to-’

“E-Excuse me!” You shouted. “Do you know what is happening? I-I haven’t seen you here before! Do I-do I know you?!”

The inexplicable being seen to haven’t noticed (Y/N)'s attempts to make contact, but now she could catch a certain detail that had ignored before while trying to keep herself steady in the implacable bursts. The perimeter around this enigmatic character remained intact the whole time, even the portion of sky over them lingered cloudless and immaculate. The breeze swayed delicately what at your current distance seems to be a white sundress.

‘So, it’s a girl’

Abruptly a blaring sound started to resonate in (Y/N) head, she tried to cover her ears with her hands to no avail. Gradually her vision began to blur and a heavy sensation of falling invaded her body. Unexpectedly everything became black until-

“OUCH!!”

Once again, (Y/N)’s world took a 180-degree change of scenery, a more uncomfortable and painful one per se. There she laid on her bedroom floor, upside down, hair scattered, ungracefully contorted with her legs dangling over her head in something similar to a pretty messy plow yoga position.

(Y/N) blinked still sleepy and confused trying to remember what was going on before she ended up like this, but unfortunately, her abrupt awakening seen to had blurred her memory. All of sudden (Y/N) was brought back from her stirred thoughts as a soft knock was heard on her door.

“Honey are you-oh my! What happened to you?!” (Y/N) mother quacked as she entered your room, her face contorted in concern. “Here, let me help you, darling, I don’t think that position could be good for your back”

“O-Ok, thanks”

After her mother helped her to stand up again, (Y/N) decided to take a quick shower to relax and clear her mind. Now, more awaken and changed in her uniform she was sitting in her vanity stool absentmindedly brushing her hair trying to recall what kind of dream she had last night.

“It will be best if I stop to think about that, I’m gonna get a migraine, it was just a dream, no biggie.”

Once detangled, (Y/N) proceed to think how she would like to style her hair or just use it loose as always. “I don’t want to tie it but I want something different.” Instantly a bulb lighted up over her head, from one of the front drawers she took out a thin light blue ribbon. She put it around her head like a headband and knot it in a little bow at the side of her head.

Content with her simple but cute look she took her already packed bag and proceeded to go downstairs to have breakfast. In her way to the first floor, (Y/N) caught the aroma of fresh pancakes and coffee.

“Smells good!” (Y/N) excitedly exclaimed once she spotted her mom coming out of the kitchen with a stack of pancakes and a bottle a maple syrup to place them on the table.

“I’m glad you think so! I put some chocolate chips in the batter just like you like it!”

“You are the best mom!~”

“Oh, darling I know it. Now sit down and eat you have to leave to soon” (Y/N) did as her mother said, who shortly joined her with her morning coffee on hand. Both of them thanked for the food and dug in.

“Oh, now that I remember! Yesterday I met our next-door neighbor!” (Y/N)’s mom chimed happily.

“Oh really? What did you talk about?”

“Oh, she was really nice and chatty! Her name is Mitsuki but I don’t remember her last name, was it, Bai? Bandai? Bando? Oh, this terrible memory of mine is getting worse and worse every day!” (Y/N)’s mom complained.

“It’s funny that we’ve already met all our close neighbors but them. It’s weird if you think about it.”

“I guess so, she also said that she has a son your age that also attends Aldera Junior High! Maybe you could start going to school together and become friends! Probably he’s as nice as his mom.”

“Hmm probably” (Y/N) said mind absently. “Hey, mom…” She whispered while putting down her cutlery. “Did-did the doctor answered something about- you know…”

Akari paused her fork holding a piece of pancake in mid-air in front of her open mouth, shock spread all over her face. She quickly composed herself and cleared her throat. “He told us it was a long process, you know a lot of tests, blood works, scans and so… he told us not to worry too much, all the necessary requirements were successfully fulfilled. Don’t worry darling, everything would be ok; we have to be faithful.” (Y/N)’s mom reassured her as she squeezed her hand.

“I know but, I’m just… scared.”

“I know baby, I know.”

🏫🚲🏃🏻‍♀️

“I’m leaving now mom!” (Y/N) exclaimed from the front door as she put on her shoes at the genkan. “Alright, sweetie! Are you bringing your bento? Your handkerchief? Your pencil-case? Your toothbrush? Your phone? Your pouch with all your ‘lady necessities’?

“Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, and yes.”

“Ok! Please take care and if anything happens call me immediately and I’ll go to pick you up. I have a meeting with a potential meat and seafood distributor for the new restaurant today but I’ll have my phone with me all the time at full volume.”

“Alright mom! Ittekimasu!”

"Itterasshai darling!"

After locking the door and taking her bike (Y/N) exited her house through the short gate door at the front, but stopped midway when her ears caught what sounded like a heated discussion next door, but the loud argument wasn’t the problem, it was one of the voices involved; an annoying, loud and really familiar voice to be exact.

‘No way…’

“I’m warning you Katsuki! Take your fucking lunch or I’ll personally deliver it to you, at school, in your classroom, in front of all of your classmates!”

“You wouldn’t dare old hag!”

“Oh, but I would! I didn’t wake up at fucking five in the morning to make a bento that you’ll refuse to eat! Now take it!”

“Piss off!”

*SLAP!*

“Don’t hit me old hag! I’ll kill you!”

“Don't you dare to talk to your mother like that you ungrateful brat!”

‘Nice my ass! What made my mom thought that this woman could be nice in the first place?! She’s shouting at her son in the middle of the street like a madwoman at 7:30 in the morning because he doesn't want his bento?! What is this?! Crazy Town?!’

“I already told you a thousand fucking times to stop making this shitty bentos! I’m not seven anymore! Not my problem that you are an old hag that can’t remember shit!

“What did you say?!’

“You heard me!”

‘I was lucky yesterday because I left earlier and he must walk to school so the chances to run into him were slim. Damn! Now I’m gonna have to wake up earlier to avoid him?! Fuck you, Bakugou! Why in heaven did he have to live next door?! Now I understand why the house was cheaper than it should have, the realtor said the former owner had trouble selling it because of the size and the prize, hah! What a joke.’

“Enough of this, I have to go before he notices me, I can get ahead faster so I won’t see him until I get to the class. Yes! Now all I have to do is walk away really slowly-”

(Y/N) put her escape plan in action immediately, moving as fast and quietly as she could even lifting the bike a little bit so the sound of the chain wouldn’t forewarn them of her presence. After a short but cumbersome trail, 2 houses away from hers (Y/N) hopped on her bike more than ready to cycle with all her might directly to the school when another voice resounded at the distance.

“(Y/N)! You forgot the bag with your P.E uniform!” Exclaimed Akari while she held the said bag for (Y/N) to see it clearly.

‘FUCK! No! No! Calm down just take the stupid bag and run! Yes! You can do it!’

(Y/N) pedaled at high speed towards her mother with an only goal in mind, ‘retrieve and flee’ Just a little bit more and she could make a clean escape. Just two feet more!

Putting all her skills on display (Y/N) did her best to balance herself on the bike with only one hand on the rudder while she extended her right hand as much as she could, ready to snatch the bag and leave for dear life.

‘Just a few inches more! Yes! You can do it! Just keep pedaling! Just keep!-’

“Oh! Akari-san! I thought I heard your voice!” Mitsuki beamed as she leaned out of her house entrance while she dragged her temperamental scion by the ear.

‘Son of a biscuit!’

“Let me go you shitty hag!”

“Watch your damn language brat! Can’t you see our lovely neighbors are here too!”

“Like I care for those extras! Let me go! I’ll be fucking late!”

*SMACK!*

“Stop with the fucking hitting!”

“Stop screaming!”

“You stop screaming!”

“Oh, isn’t this neighborhood lively, darling?~” Chimed Akari smiling amusedly at the scene in front of her.

“Aha…” (Y/N) petrified by her side, all willing to live left her body already.

‘I hate my life…’

“Oh! Bakugou!” Said Akari while she bumped the side of her fist over her open palm “Mitsuki-san’s last name is Bakugou!”

“And why couldn't you ‘ve remembered this important piece of information, I don’t know, like thirty-five minutes ago mother?” (Y/N) groaned.

“Oh, you know I’ve always had a bad memory, but I always end up remembering everything at the right time” Akari giggled. (Y/N) simply sighed for the umpteenth time that morning.

‘I’m exhausted already’

After a couple of minutes of bickering, the interesting ‘shoutversation’ mother and son had come to a halt when Mrs. Bakugou strongly hit her son’s head pushing it down in a bow like position.

“Oh, Akari-san! I’m so ashamed that you had to witness this! Katsuki can be a handful sometimes!” Said the blond woman with a dismayed expression.

'Just sometimes?'

“Oh, don’t worry!” Said (Y/N)’s mom waving her hand dismissively. “Teens are usually more temperamental, especially at this age. (Y/N) is not always a ray of sunshine, you know how hormones are.

“Mom!” (Y/N) exclaimed embarrassed, making the older blonde’s attention go from her mom to her, acknowledging her presence. The female Bakugou’s expression went from pensive to surprised, to excited to hopeful all in a matter of five seconds.

“Oh my! you must be (Y/N)-chan! Your mother has told me a lot about you! I’m Bakugou Mitsuki, but you can call me Mitsuki! This is my son, Katsuki! He goes to the same school as you! Katsuki say ‘hi’!” Said Mitsuki with a cheery voice.

*UNINTELLIGIBLE GRUMBLES*

“I SAID SAY ‘HI’ KATSUKI!!”

“OH MY FUCKING-! Hi or whatever!” sneered the seething blond.

“Umm… hi…” After her court response Katsuki seemed to tense slightly, like he just fogured out something. He then slowly rose his head and his wide, bloodshot eyes met (Y/N)’s unfazed yet irritated ones.

“THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING HERE THIEF BITCH?!”

*SLAP! x3*

“KATSUKI YOU DISGRACEFUL PUNK! APOLOGIZE THIS INSTANT!”

“Make me old hag!!!”

*SLAP! x6*

“So help me Katsuki! I will take away all of your phone, Wi-Fi, and PS privileges!”

“I wanna see you try!  And why should I apologize?! This shitty thief used her fucking quirk on me yesterday! If anyone should apologize, it's her!”

“Ha! Knowing you, you must have deserved it for sure!”

“Da fuck?!”

“I told you to stop with the fucking swearing!”

“You stop with the fucking swearing!”

‘Oh God help us all’

#bnha x reader #boku no hero academia #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #katsuki x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugo x reader #mha x reader #my hero academia #boku no hero academia fanfic #my hero academia fanfic #bnha fanfiction #mha fanfiction #bnha #mha #bakugou #bakugo #fem reader #angst #fluff #Multichapter #series #fem oc #male oc #enemies to friends to lovers #one sided crush #cape kamui #hokkaido #bakugou mitsuki #bakugo mitsuki

[takara-kaneko]

Fluffweek Day 2: Nightmare

To Continue with our Sevian fluff, @deijnar and I present you with our next story, only slightly late for Day 2 of @mmfluffweek

Without further ado, I hope you enjoy it!

Sevian Day 2: the Princess’ Problem

A scream dies in my throat as I startle up from my bed. On my neck there’s a cold layer of sweat, my breathing is ragged and my hands are shaking. To no surprise, I find my cheeks being wet as I touch them.

But the dream, the nightmare, that has shaken me so greatly, is escaping me. Not that I want to remember the pictures that made me cry in my sleep but it feels… kind of worse to not know. Like I am missing something important, like I have to know, like I should know…

I feel terrible. My skin is tingling in an unpleasant way, I am freezing and sweating at the same time. Before I can really think about it, I grab my phone and type a message.

WizardPrincess, 02:47

Are you still up by any chance?

SpaceKnight, 02:47

The Defender of Justice always hears the cries of those in need of him!

WizardPrincess, 02:48

That’s good because I really need you…

SpaceKnight, 02:48

What’s wrong? How can I help?

WizardPrincess, 02:50

Ah, actually I’m not sure, I just had a really bad nightmare I think and I just… really wanted to talk to you, is all ^^;; what is the Defender of Justice doing at this time of night?

SpaceKnight, 02:51

Do you want me to call you?

WizardPrincess, 02:52

That… would be wonderful but I don’t want to stop you from doing whatever you’re up to.

Incoming call…

SpaceKnight

The littlest hint of a smile appears on my face as my phone starts ringing in my hand immediately. “Hey there…”

Hearing his voice already calms down my frantically beating heart. “Hey, cutie. My godly senses tell me that my Wizard Princess had a nightmare tonight.”

A very short, weak chuckle escapes my lips as I slowly lay back down. “As always, your godly senses are perfectly right.”

There are some rummaging and rustling in the background but I only concentrate on his voice and try to calm down my breathing. At least my hands aren’t shaking anymore.

“Just hold on a little bit longer and your knight will be there.”

My eyes widen and I sit up straight again. “What? No! I’m sure you’re doing something important, you really don’t need to drive all the way over here just for this! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you…”

The answer is immediate and it causes my heart to skip a beat. “There’s nothing more important than making sure you’re okay, Viv.”

So much for getting it to beat calmly again…

I need a moment to let his words sink in before I take a deep breath and smile. “Okay. Drive safely.”

“My dear madame, the Defender of Justice always drives with the utmost safety.” The stern tone of his voice makes me laugh and I stifle it with my hand. As always, I decide to play along with his funny and, admittedly very cute, antics.

“But of course, how could I have forgotten this universally-known fact? Hopefully, you can forgive my sloppiness.” I’m so much into the act that I actually do a little bow despite the fact that he can’t see it.

“You are forgiven this time because you are in a compromised condition. It’s not the duty of a princess to know all of her humble servant’s qualities.” Although he is still talking in a playful manner to try to cheer me up, there is a deep, underlying softness in his voice that fills my chest with warmth and makes me feel a bit dizzy. And maybe that dizziness causes me to say something I normally wouldn’t dare to say out loud.

“But you’re not only my favorite servant, you’re my overall favorite person. I want to remember all the little, random facts about you!”

After realizing what I’ve just said, my eyes widen and I purse my lips. For a split second, I consider hanging up, feeling my cheeks heating up like crazy. But if I did, I wouldn’t be able to listen to him anymore… So I’ll just have to bear this awkwardness I’ve just caused.

The soft laugh that echoes through the speaker is more than enough to make it worth living through any kind of awkwardness as it speeds my heartbeat up again in the best possible way.

“Then tell me, what is it you want to know about your loyal knight, my princess?”

As I realize that this is a true chance to get to know something special about him, I take a moment to come up with a good question. So, first, I have to buy some time for myself. “Hmm, let’s start with something easy. When is your birthday and how old are you?” I should probably know these things but it’s 3 a.m. and I really can’t remember right now...

“It was the bright morning of June 11th when I was born. My mother was a simple milkmaid back in the 8th century, but she knew from that moment, I would be a knight.” His voice is giving away how much he dives into his own story and it causes the smile on my lips to grow. Texting him was obviously the best choice I could have possibly made. “Of course, it’s been over a century since then… So, to keep my identity hidden, I just claim to be 21.” Weirdly enough, the mysterious tone of his voice truly makes this silly story kind of intriguing. “But because you ask, I shall tell you the truth. My true age is 1,320! I look surprisingly young, wouldn’t you agree?”

To stay in character, I gasp dramatically. “1,320?? You truly don’t look your age! I can only imagine how many people you have saved in all those years!” As I say this, I make sure to separate the real information from his jokes in my head. I really want to remember this…

“I could tell you about the duke I heroically rescued. But none of my tasks so far have been nearly as important as the one to keep you safe.”

This statement makes me close my eyes and causes me to place a hand over my mouth to not let out the squeal that is trying to let him know how flustered and unique his words make me feel. It’s probably stupid but… I guess I just want to know.

“Have you ever protected a princess like me before?”

As soon as I’ve asked the question, I feel dumb for doing so. Even if he said yes… What exactly would that mean? And what do I expect to gain from this knowledge? Would I seem even more stupid if I took the question back…?

The longer the silence on the other end goes on, despite it being just a few seconds, the more nervous I get. “I’ve never gotten to protect a princess before. You’re my first, my lady.”

My breath hitches in my throat and once again, my cheeks heat up as my heart hammers against my chest. The butterflies in my stomach dance with each other and whirl around, causing an excited tingling in me that I have never felt before. This feeling is exactly like I’ve read so many times in my novels before.

“I’m really glad it was you who first found out I’m a princess so you’re also the first and only one to be my knight.” Hopefully, he can even understand what I’m saying, my voice is barely more than a whisper anymore.

According to the sigh of relief that reaches my ear, he did. “And I’m glad I found you too.” I take in a sharp breath, hoping he overhears it due to the dull noise in the background. “By the way, you want to let me in?”

Prompted by the soft knock on the door that accompanies his question, I jump out of bed so quickly that the room around me starts to spin for a short moment. Impatiently, I hurry to the door and end the call, eager to be able to not only hear his soothing, lighthearted voice but also see his sparkling eyes.

Without a second of hesitation, I tear open the door. But as soon as my eyes lock with his, I freeze in place. There’s nothing I want more at this moment than to wrap my arms around him but… would that be weird?

When his gaze lands on me, he lowers his phone from his ear. “I said I’d always be here for you, Vivian.” And as if these words weren’t enough to fulfill my dearest wish, he also takes the one step forward that is needed to close the distance between us and he embraces me in the most heartfelt, tight hug I have ever had.

Unable to put the simply inexplicable feeling that is surging through me at this moment into words that would even slightly do it justice, I lean into his touch and hide my face in his neck, holding him as close as possible. “Thank you.”

“And if the magical powers of this hug aren’t enough, I also brought you some mochi.” Maybe the light kiss he places on the top of my head would have caused my brain to stop working entirely only hours ago but right now it fills me with nothing but happiness and I fully relish in the sensation of his lips against my skin.

“I doubt I need anything but you right here to feel fine but the mochi is still greatly appreciated.” With a chuckle, I reluctantly let go of him. “Come in, I can’t leave my knight standing in the hallway!”

His chuckle makes me feel even more at peace. “I’ll follow wherever you want me to go. And we can share the mochi!!”

With a grin on my face, I motion for him to step inside. “In that case, I want you to follow me to the living room so we can share the mochi and the couch!”

We enter the room together and he prepares the couch for us, placing and fluffing up the pillows to create a perfect, comfortable nest while I bring my fluffiest blanket. By the time we are seated on the couch, I’ve calmed down completely and my eyes keep falling shut. Too sleepy to be shy about it, I snuggle against him and lean my head against his shoulder as he puts his arm around me. But before I drift off to sleep, I still get to take a little bite of the mochi he offers to me.

“This is really sweet…” I mumble with a content smile, my eyes closing as I wrap my arms around him too.

***

I stroke her hair until she falls back asleep. And while I never have had much good luck, I wish with all the power in me, that her dreams this time around will be pleasant.

Maybe it's because it is so late, or maybe because she's so warm and soothing, sleeping next to me; but I feel comfort that I never have before.

With my eyelids getting heavy, I stop to look at Vivian. Her small body is resting comfortably. It's impossible for me to feel anything but at ease with her, apparently, even in her sleep.

Careful not to stir her, I place my hand over my lips, catching the kiss I want to give her. And with trembling fingers, I gingerly place my hand-caught kiss to her lips. Gliding my hand to stroke her cheek, a sudden wave of exhaustion falls over me.

My eyes fall shut and my mind is being lulled to the rhythmic sounds of her breathing. Maybe sleep like this would be better for both of us.

#mysme #mystic messenger #mystic messenger fanfiction #707 #mysme fanfiction #mystic messenger fanfic #mysme fanfic #mystic messenger 707 #mm 707 #mysme fluff #mmfluffweek2020

[our-time-is-now]

June 26, 2019: Solidarity, Brudis!

(previous play)

You can find more information about the authors, translators, content  warning and additional information about the plays in the pinned post on  our blog.

Attention! This play includes transgender topics. For more details see our interjection.

Wednesday, 11.36 am:

WhatsApp, David/Carlos:

David: Hi, what’s up? Are you up already? I just wanted to ask how things went with Kiki yesterday. Did you talk to her?

Carlos: Hi, brudi, yep, just woke up. Yep, everything was really relaxed with Kiki. She is completely convinced we’ll make it and all… it has calmed me down at least. And with you? Everything still clear in seventh heaven?

David: Sounds good! I’m happy for you! And maybe it will really work out that she can change to Berlin after a semester or two. I’m crossing my fingers! Here is everything fine. Matteo is playing Zelda right now – he probably took up the taste for it again last Sunday :-)

Carlos: Yes, let’s hope so! Ah, the little gambler, just be careful, now you won’t be able to get him away from the screen for a long time.

Carlos: I just wanted to say, I have read some more about dysphoria and all that. And in any case, I will shut up from now on, it is really different and dependent on mood and I don’t want to be the cause of you feeling miserable.

David: Ah, don’t worry – I have my ways to get him away from the screen ;-) :-P

David: That’s cool, that you’ve read some more. Thanks! But the offer still stands: when you have questions, just ask… I noticed in the last few days that being open about these things is not so bad as I thought earlier…

Carlos: Haha, nice, Brudi! *sends eggplant emoji*

Carlos: Ja, cool… I actually have some questions regarding those binder things. Can you wear your normal one to go swimming? And do they come in different sizes? And one more, but you don’t have to answer it because it has to do with dysphoria a bit: there are things you like to do, like sport… or sex… where you shouldn’t really wear a binder… isn’t that stupid? I mean, if you feel uneasy?

David: In theory swimming should go with a normal binder… but they don’t “bind” as well as swimming binders – they are made of weaker material and stretch more in the water. Yes, they come in different sizes, like shirt sizes, S, M, L and so on. Hmmmm… yes, that is rather stupid. I have to admit that I usually keep mine on during sport, but I’m not doing any competitive sport. For one or two hours it’s doable. And during sex… let’s just say that Matteo really tries to make things as easy as possible for me – I’m so super grateful to him for that! And in his presence, it’s getting better slowly – and if you tell anybody I’m talking to you about sex and Matteo I will unfortunately have to kill you…

Carlos: Haha, I’m not telling anybody. Brudi honour, man! So no killing, please. But yeah, damn, it sounds very complicated, all that stuff… and you think swimming with that thing is no fun, because people can really see it?

David: That, first of all, but also because I stand out from the rest so much… it’s not really normal for boys or men to go into the water with a shirt or a binder or a neoprene suit or any other item of clothing on top… people always somehow seem to notice and when you’re already uncertain about yourself, these extra looks bother you extremely much.

Carlos: Yeah, that’s understandable… but I still hope that you won’t let yourself be held back by those silly things… What does such a swimming binder look like by the way?

David: I hope it will be easier for me to overcome it on our holiday, because we will be amongst ourselves and you all know the situation anyway, but I can’t promise anything… we’ll see. *sends a link of the swimming binder he has ordered and adds* That’s what they look – I mean, that’s the one I ordered.

Carlos: Ah, okay, I see. Yeah, so, as said, if I can do something or not do something, just say so, yeah?

David: Will do, thanks!

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

WhatsApp, Matteo/Carlos, 12.15 pm:

Carlos: Hey, brudi, mate, I have an idea! But I wanted to ask you first what you think about it and it has to stay a secret in any case, so not a word to David! Act normally! I know he’s sitting next to you right now.

Matteo: Haha, mate, act normally. You’re funny. How can you even read a message abnormally? Anyway, what’s up?

Carlos: I’ve just talked to David about these swimming binders. Or, well, actually about binders in general, but I got an idea about the swimming binders…

Matteo: Yeah, right, about binders… *sends eggplant emoji*

Carlos: In any case, he said that the most stupid part about it, for him, is that with his binder he stands out so much from all other men who are swimming without one. I understand completely. Just imagine if we suddenly had to wear a swim suit or something… Anyway, so I suddenly had the idea, what if we all order one of those things? Then he wouldn’t be alone. Do you think he’d like that or rather not? I mean, I don’t want him to get even more dysphoria because of it. You know him better than I do…

Matteo: Mate, who are you and what have you done to Carlos? That is a super idea, brudi! Truly! I think he would like that. Like, obviously dysphoria is somehow depending on the day and all that, but I really think that would help him a lot.

Carlos: (Matteo: Yeah, right, about binders… *sends eggplant emoji*) Really, man… no idea how you get to *sends 3 eggplant emojis*… you really think only about one thing, you pig!

Carlos: Yes, alright – I’ll make a group with the boys…

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

WhatsApp, Matteo/Jonas/Abdi/Carlos, 12.42 pm:

Carlos: Hey, brudis, I have an idea for our holiday and I wanted to ask if you all wanna be part of the plan. I’ve chatted with David about the holiday again and then more precisely about swimming and dysphoria and that stuff and he said, the most stupid part for him is that he has to wear a swimming binder, because he is the only one and then people stare at him. So, I was thinking if it wouldn’t be cool if maybe all of us would wear one during our holiday… so that he wouldn’t be alone with one… What do you think? Are you in? Or do you think it’s a stupid idea?

Jonas: How do you even know what dysphoria is?

Abdi: I’m in! What are swimming binders?

Matteo: :-) Swimming binders are binders one can swim with ;-)

Carlos: @ Jonas: Haha, I can read, mate!

Abdi: Haha. What are binders?  

Matteo: You wear binders on your chest, they are tight and press everything down.

Jonas: I think it’s a super idea! We really should do it. Where can you get those things and how much do they cost?

Abdi: Ah, shit. But makes sense, yes…

Carlos: *sends the link David has sent him earlier* This is the one David has ordered! Would be nice if all the guys had exactly the same, or what?

Matteo: Weird.

Jonas: What’s weird?

Matteo: That Carlos knows which binder my boyfriend has ordered.

Jonas: <3 <3 <3

Matteo: What?

Jonas: You said “my boyfriend”.

Matteo: Idiot!

Abdi: Anyway, I have googled that stuff just now and it is really weird. It won’t be that we all suddenly can’t breathe or so?

Carlos: Well, David says, only after 8 hours or so does it become hard and painful because of air and back pains and stuff. And when doing sport or lots of movement. But we won’t be swimming for 8 hours in one day, right… and on top of that: solidarity, brudis! If David has to endure it, then we can too!

Jonas: Well, I think it’s really cool you’re so interested in all that, Carlos! *thumbs up emoji*

Jonas: Are we ordering together or everyone for himself?

Carlos: Everyone for himself. We all have Prime anyway.

Abdi: Will do!

Matteo: Uh, no… somebody should order for me too and also take it to Heidesee for me, please.

Jonas: I can order for you and pack it too, no problem!

Carlos: Yes, cool, guys! This will be great! We just have to discuss how it would be best to show them to him or something…

Matteo: Thanks, Jonas! *thumbs up emoji*

Abdi: I think it’s really cool we’re doing this. All the boys for David!

Matteo: :-) Super!

Jonas: Or wait… all boys? What about Alex then? Shouldn’t we ask him too? I don’t want him to feel left out or something…

Carlos: I’m not asking him!

Abdi: Oops, we completely forgot about him.

Matteo: I’m not so close to him either. And I have to keep to option to possibly kill him open. But you know him, because of Abi chacker clan, right?

Jonas: Well, if it’s okay for you, then I’ll ask him… would be cool somehow, if really all the boys would participate…

Carlos: If he even wants to participate… yeah, fine by me – if we must…

Abdi: Yeah, ask him. All would be better indeed.

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

WhatsApp, Jonas/Alex, 13.24 pm:

Jonas: Hi Alex, the guys and I have come up with something for David. And we, through me then, wanted to ask you if you wanted to participate? David has to wear a binder and during holidays a swimming binder so he can get into the lake, but he feels a bit uneasy about it, because he stands out so much with it. We thought that we simply all could order one and go swimming with it and then David won’t be alone. You don’t have to do it, of course, I don’t really know how close you are to David, but I just thought I’d ask.

Alex: Oh, man… group things like that… not really my thing, to be honest. Would it be okay to think about and decide tomorrow?

Jonas: Yeah, of course. And as I said, no stress. You really don’t have to.

Alex: What does such a swimming binder look like? Do you have a link or something, so I can look at it a bit more in detail?

Jonas: Yep, one moment. *sends the same link* That’s the one we’re getting.

Alex: Thanks! I’ll think about it……

(next play)

#Druck #Druck og #Matteo Florenzi #David Schreibner #Davenzi plays #Davenzi

[missnight0wl]

Overflow

Summary: Helena sneaks out from the Hospital Wing. She’s followed by Charlie.

A rewrite of the events happening directly after the Portrait Vault. Because MC deserved to have a breakdown right then. Also, it somehow took me almost a year to finish it, and I was close to abandoning it entirely, but here we are.

Words: 2140

June 1989

The lights in the Great Hall never before seemed to be so bright. It was hard to adjust to them after the darkness of the Buried Vault. Helena managed to lift the upper part of her body, and she looked around to check on her companions. Bill was kneeling next to Charlie and holding his arms to support him, Ben was sitting a little further with his hand pressed to his mouth, and in the middle was…

“Merula!” Helena exclaimed in a strangled voice. Without getting up, she got closer to the girl who was lying motionless on the floor with her eyes half-open. The Ravenclaw realised then that there were other students around, clearly alarmed by the whole situation. “Give her some space!” she ordered, reaching her arm as if she was trying to build an invisible barrier. “Someone call help!”

She peeked at Merula and again at the small crowd of people drawing back when she noticed Diego among them. She called his name and tried to stand up, but she tripped. She would fall if not for the Hufflepuff’s quick reaction. She still felt dizzy after travelling by the Portkey.

“Helena, what happened?” Diego asked with concern. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. But Merula is not. Could you… could you look after her? You’re friends with her, right? And I can’t… I can’t now…”

“Calm down,” he said softly. “What happened with Merula?”

“She was tortured.” Diego’s expression became even more worried. “But maybe don’t mention that. Just… just try to distract her… Until we get help…”

Right after she said it, the door to the Great Hall opened and Dumbledore came in, Snape following right behind him. How did they get here so fast? They quickly reach to them and started asking about the events of recent hours. At some point, Madam Pomfrey showed up as well. Helena had problems to focus, but somehow, she was answering all the questions, almost automatically as in some kind of trance. The Portkey, the Vault, the dragon. Rakepick, the Cruciatus Curse, the Garrotting Gas…

“I’ll find her. She won’t get away with this.”

It was Professor Snape, looking very determined to keep his promise. Everyone wanted to find Rakepick… Of course, it’s understandable. Yet, why nobody had shown such concern when Jacob went missing? Does one have to commit an act as horrible as this to get attention? Jacob did bad things, too. He put the whole school in danger because of his Cursed Vaults obsession. At least that’s what people say... Did Snape also try to bring him to justice? If so, he obviously failed. And in that case, how can he even hope to find Rakepick now?

Helena heard fewer and fewer words exchanged by people next to her. She was looking at her friends, some students she could barely recognise after seeing them occasionally in the corridors. Finally, she spotted Rowan, her eyes glistening. She knew. Rowan always knew. She didn’t need to hear the story to tell that something bad had happened. Helena got past her professors, not being entirely sure if they’re talking to her or Merula, and walked down the platform. Rowan was next to her in a moment, embracing her tightly. They didn’t speak, they were just standing there. It felt like the only good thing left in Helena’s life so she didn’t want to let it go.

“That’s enough! You know the most important thing!” Madam Pomfrey’s voice sounded over conversations. “I’m taking them to the Hospital Wing. All of them,” the matron added firmly.

“We’re gonna talk later, okay?” Helena said to Rowan, releasing her from the hug. Her friend only nodded, wiping her cheek with the sleeve.

She didn’t remember exactly how they got transported from the Great Hall. Suddenly, she was sitting on a bed in the Hospital Wing when Madam Pomfrey approached her, moving a folding screen.

“Miss Ellis, I told you to change your clothes.”

The girl looked down at her outfit. Rakepick’s outfit. Well, not exactly, of course. It all started when she was with Rowan at some second-hand shop. She found then a waistcoat made of fabric similar to the one the Curse-Breaker usually wore. Brown shirt and trousers were much easier to get. With the addition of black cloak and some belts, the costume was completed. It wasn’t a perfect copy, but the resemblance was quite obvious. At the time, she thought it’d be funny, and maybe this kind of mockery would annoy Rakepick. And even though the latter goal wasn’t achieved – rather on the contrary – Helena grew to like this silly outfit. It was comfortable.

“Who’s that girl?” she asked, looking at a tall blonde bustling behind Madam Pomfrey.

“It’s Donna, a seventh-year Hufflepuff. She’s starting practice at St Mungo’s in Autumn. I reckoned she might be needed.”

The matron was just checking on her wrist. She was touching it gently, but only now Helena realised how much it hurt.

“I’m fine, Madam Pomfrey, it’s just a wrist,” she said instead. “I think Charlie has broken ribs, and Ben was wounded in the head pretty badly--”

“And how about you let me do my job, hm?”

“I just want to help…”

“You fought a dragon, dear,” Madam Pomfrey remarked softly. “Did you consider you might need help yourself?”

Helena looked at her blankly. “Not really, no.”

She barely spoke for the rest of her examination. Eventually, she was told to lay down. When she turned on the right side, she was facing an empty room. She wished to be left alone, so it was the best alternative for cutting herself off. All the noises became incredibly annoying. The Weasley brothers must’ve tried to come to her bed because Helena heard Madam Pomfrey yelling at them. She heard Merula arguing. She didn’t hear Ben, though. Finally, she got a potion that was supposed to help her sleep.

When she woke up, it was dark and silent. Perhaps it was later the same night, maybe it was the next one already. She knew one thing for sure – she was suffocating. It was that feeling of panic that disrupted her rest. She needed to leave the room immediately. She found her wand on the side table, but she didn’t want to draw attention by lightening it up right away, so she got up and blindly moved to the exit, trying very hard to not stumble.

“Lumos!” she mumbled under her breath when the door closed behind her.

The rest of the castle was just as quiet and calm as the Hospital Wing. Helena was pacing through the corridors, feeling her breath becoming more and more steady the further she got. She was nearing the stairs leading to the ground floor when she heard footsteps which weren’t her own. Her heart started beating faster again. The confrontation with Filch or one of the teachers was the last thing she needed at the moment. She extinguished the light at the end of her wand and hid behind the nearest statue. The steps were getting closer to her, so she instinctively pressed her lips in the hope it’d help her stay quiet.

“Nell?” she heard a whisper.

The redhead suddenly appeared in her view, and they both jumped when their eyes met.

“Charlie!” she hissed at him. “You scared me to death!”

“I scared you?” he raised his eyebrows. “I’m not the one hiding in the dark!”

“I thought you’re a teacher! What are you even doing here?”

“What are you doing here?”

“I just wanted to get some air. And don’t try to distract me,” she looked at him sternly. “You should be lying in bed.”

Charlie’s face got gentler. “So do you.”

“I’m fine, I could go back to my dormitory,” she replied, crossing her arms on the chest.

“You don’t look fine.”

“I’m fine, Charlie,” she said more firmly. “I wasn’t trapped under rubble, I wasn’t tortured--”

“Nell, you fought a dragon,” he cut in. “You got hurt. Don’t say--”

“I know I fought a fucking dragon!” she snapped. “Can people stop reminding me about that?” She stared at him coldly, but Charlie remained calm which only made her feel worse. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell,” she said and hid her face. “I… I just really need to get out of here.”

Charlie hesitated before reaching his hand towards her. “Well, can I go with you?” Helena only nodded and grabbed his palm without a word.

They didn’t speak on their way outside. The night was warm and the air fresh. They both were barefoot, but it was actually pleasant to step on the grass. They were still quiet by the time they reached the Black Lake.

“Y’know, it’s just weird…” Helena started out of nowhere. Not because the silence felt awkward or Charlie seemed to be pressing on her. It was growing in her, and she simply had to let it go. “I imagined the reunion with Jacob so many times, and I thought it’d be the most important day of my life. That I’d be so happy, or even sad, depending on the situation, or angry.” She stopped so abruptly that her hand slipped out of Charlie’s. “But I felt nothing.”

He turned to her and watched her for a moment, wondering what to say. “D’you want to talk about what happened before Bill and I came?”

It wasn’t the first time he gave her that look that night. He knew that it wasn’t just an awkward reunion, that something had happened. Bill knew as well. Helena hoped that he didn’t blame himself for hurrying to free Jacob. That there are no reasons to regret it, to begin with. She took a deep breath.

“Well…” she started slowly. “When I entered the inner chamber, Jacob was there, in the portrait…” She swallowed hard, remembering the picture. “He was happy to see me, and I was happy too. And I was about to touch that damn column when he said: ‘You can trust me’…”

Charlie frowned. “Well, yeah. He’s your brother. Why wouldn’t you trust him?”

“Exactly! That’s what I thought! So, I asked him why would he say that. I mean, I’ve spent five bloody years searching for him, following his stupid clues which were more confusing than helpful at times… How could he think that I wouldn’t trust him after that? I fought a dragon for him, and he didn’t even ask about that! Anyway…” She lowered her voice again and bit her lip. “He started explaining himself, and then you came. That’s pretty much it. I don’t know, Charlie… It just doesn’t make any sense. None of it makes sense. And I just… I just want to scream because of that.”

“So scream.”

“What?”

Charlie shrugged. “I mean, I sometimes want to scream from frustration, too. Maybe it’s healthy to let it out. And who’s gonna stop you now?” He touched her arm reassuringly and smiled gently. “I can join you if it’ll make you more comfortable.”

And then, he inhaled deeply and screamed at the top of his lungs. The sound spread over the water, but they were far enough from the castle that it shouldn’t have disturbed anyone. Helena dithered for a moment, but she quickly joined him – a bit shy at first, but with time passing, she felt like a gigantic weight was getting off her whole body. When they both stopped, she chuckled briefly, simply because of how silly the whole situation was: two teenagers in hospital pyjamas, in the middle of the night, yelling at the Black Lake.

The second scream Helena started on her own. However, this time, it brought relief only for a while. Suddenly, everything that had happened in the Vault came back to her. All images, all words, still so fresh in her memory. And that cold look which never before was that cold... Her shout gradually became a cry, and before she knew, tears were falling down her face. Charlie had to realise it before her because in the very next moment, he was holding her in a tight embrace, speaking softly.

“It’s okay, I’m here.”

She wanted to calm down, but the more she tried, the more painful it was. Just hours ago, she had almost everything. Most importantly, she had hope. Now, it all was taken from her – and she didn’t really understand how it could’ve gone so wrong.

She buried her face in Charlie’s chest and clutched his shirt. “Why she left me?” she sobbed.

He said nothing. Partially because he didn’t have an answer for that, but also because he wasn’t expecting that it’s the question on her mind. And since Helena couldn’t see his surprised expression, she was unaware how much she exposed herself when her walls had broken once more.

#hogwarts mystery #hphm #hphm mc #jacob's sibling #helena ellis #hphm jacob #patricia rakepick #charlie weasley #portrait vault #year 5 #my writing

[find-your-sunspot]

Chapter I - 3:30 PM

Chieko opened her eyes in a groan of fatigue. Oh, I fell asleep ... I wonder how much time has passed. The realization that someone had come in her sleep to light another incense made her blood run cold. A thousand and one scenarios swirled around in her head, as she straightened up to look around. What  happened ?? What did they come to do ? After spending several minutes frantically touching her body, she finally calmed down with a sigh. Nothing had been done to her in her sleep ; and that was enough to reassure her.

The sky, which was still very pale before, had seen itself covered with a veil of cerulean blue, dotted here and there with clouds. Surprisingly gray clouds for the season ; the month of June had been mild and pleasant. Maybe a summer rain will fall soon. I hope, it is always enjoyable. The landscape is so stunning afterwards !

Without letting her smile fade, Chieko retrieved her phone, which she had left on the nightstand, to open the RFA app. It was three-thirty, and the Minister was hungry. The thought of a good snack made her stomach growl ; and even more so when she began to smell a faint smell of strawberry cake. I don't think it's in their best interests to poison me. I should go and see where the smell is coming from. I can't remember the last time I ate.

No sooner had she left her room than she found herself in a hallway decorated like a castle. Marble floors, fresh peonies, thick curtains tied with pretty golden ribbons, but most of all chandeliers hanging on the wall at equal distance from each other. While in awe of all the decorations, she took some time before noticing a young man with blackish hair waving to her. He doesn't seem mean, just... a little funny ? I don't know, he looks nice. Well, that doesn't mean I'm going to trust him.

<< ...Yes ?

-If you want some cake, you better wait in your room for them to come and give them to you ! >>

And, without saying anything more, this funny young man gave her another wave before disappearing at the junction of the hallways, chasing someone running. But what is their problem, anyway ? Why are they behaving like this with me ?

Still, Chieko decided to trust him on this one and reluctantly returned to his room. He is probably right. It's not a good idea for me to get out of here. I'm pretty sure this Saeran would kill me if he found out. However, I remain convinced that it is not him who is in charge of this place.

Back in her princess bedroom, she pulled one of the two armchairs around the pedestal table and sat down in silence. Thinking about how to get out of here, she remembered the information she had obtained about this place, as Minister of Justice. I am probably in the headquarters of this cult called "Mint Eye". Obviously, I was kidnapped here, but not because of my research. And judging the reactions of the members of the RFA, no announcement concerning my disappearance was made… But I should have expected it. I can only count on myself to get out of this.

As she was about to continue torturing her mind with those, her phone vibrated and a notification popped up on her screen. "New Chatroom" ! A slight smile curved around the corner of her lips, and she finally opened the app.

Yoosung 🌟 : Oh, hi, Jaehee, Chieko !!

Jaehee Kang : Hello, both of you.

Chieko : Hi ! :) How are you ?

Yoosung 🌟: Good ! Finally, I’m super restless. I couldn't concentrate at all in class. Too excited !

Jaehee Kang : Is it because of the Minister coming to our chatroom ?

Yoosung 🌟 : Yes ! I mean… Someone who knew Rika that we weren't aware of ?? It gives me so much hope to know more about her..!!

Jaehee Kang : Ah, theoretically, Mr. Han knows her. And from what I could understand, Luciel and V do too.

Chieko : Yes, that's right… I knew Luciel when he was younger, and I had the opportunity to meet V before I parted ways with Rika.

Jaehee Kang : If you are comfortable enough, would you mind telling us how you got to know Rika ?

Yoosung 🌟 : Oh, I was going to ask the same question ! She never told us about you.

Chieko : Of course. We left each other on… Bad terms ? Well. We got to know each other at church. We lived there for a few months.

Yoosung 🌟 : Living there ??

Jaehee Kang : I heard that homeless people can take refuge in church, yes.

Chieko : That's right. Oh, now that I think about it, I probably got the photos back on my phone. Just a second, please..

Jaehee Kang : I didn't know Rika had lived in church, to be honest.

Yoosung 🌟 : Me neither… I thought she had moved from her parents' place to V's directly.

After searching for a few moments in her phone's gallery, Chieko finally found the photo she was looking for. She, Rika, and another girl, holding hands right outside the church door. All three looked tired, but mostly they wore shy smiles. Nothing of the Rika that the RFA knew ; but also nothing of the Chieko that South Korea knew. Rika kept her hair plaited, and played nervously with one of her locks, while Chieko struggled to stand up because she was too skinny. And she, who always made a point of keeping her hair maintained, had let it go, in such a messy way, but also and above all as white as her sickly skin. The other girl, meanwhile, was also not in great physical shape, and wore a poorly executed bob cut.

Chieko : No, she stayed… Almost a year there before she met V and left.

Jaehee Kang : … Wow, this photo is odd to look at…

Yoosung 🌟 : How come Rika is like that ?? She does not look alike ....

Chieko : That's what I told you, she was such a strong woman. She has changed so much since the last time I saw her.

Jaehee Kang : … So you too, I think. I don’t know more about you, but... If you went from being a refugee in the church to being a justice minister, you had to work a lot.

Yoosung 🌟 : It is true that it is impressive !! You are a role model for a lot of people here!

Chieko : Ah, really ? I tend to see what the people blame me for...

Jaehee Kang : Ah, I can relate. ;-;;

Yoosung 🌟 : Waaah, you scare me for the future life.

Chieko : Don't worry, you'll be fine ! You seem like a young boy with lots of potential.

Yoosung 🌟 :… Oh, that's super flattering from you ! ^//^

Jaehee Kang : It is true that you can feel honored, Yoosung... It is very gratifying.

Chieko :  Ha, it's no big deal... That is just my opinion. I don’t have any special qualifications to say that, I’m just telling you how I feel seeing you. :)

Yoosung 🌟 : Thank you then ! :D

Jaehee Kang : Well, having that cleared up ... Yoosung, you said you couldn't concentrate in class, is that right ?

Yoosung 🌟 : Yes… I'm spending time on my phone, hoping not to get caught. QwQ

Jaehee Kang : Yoosung, it's a bit... ;-;;

Chieko : Ha, even if you need to follow your class, feeling low one afternoon isn’t going to fail your schooling. Try to drink some water and get out for some fresh air ! It looks like it's going to rain soon. I don't know about you, but I find the summer rains soothing. :)

Jaehee Kang : … It is going to rain, you say ? However, the sky is perfectly clear in Seoul.

Yoosung 🌟 : That's right, the sun is burning my eyes and my teacher won't close the shutters ;-;

Chieko : … Oh, that's weird then. Excuse me. Either way, the intent remains the same. Just hanging out in your school grounds might relax you a bit, Yoosung.

Jaehee Kang : It is true that just for an afternoon it'll be fine… You obviously won't be able to concentrate today, so you should at least pay attention to your sanity. :)

Chieko : And I'll try to answer as many of your questions as possible so that you can concentrate in class tomorrow !

Jaehee Kang : It is true that it would help us a lot... Even if you already have the trust of Mr. Han, I would like us to be able to get rid of all the suspicions about you as soon as possible.

Yoosung 🌟 :… I was going to say something about V, but I think I'll take your advice and hang out for a bit ! ;-;;

Chieko : That's the spirit, Yoosung ! Don't think about what hurts you, and take some quality time for yourself.

Yoosung 🌟 : Thank you girls… have a nice day ! :D

Yoosung has left the chatroom.

Jaehee Kang : It is nice to see Yoosung active again… He had been in a lethargic state since Rika's death.

Chieko : Were they that close?

Jaehee Kang : Yes… Rika was her cousin, and I think he was the person she was closest to, after V, of course.

Chieko : … I imagine the distress he must have felt, indeed. But as tragic as her death is... We have to help him move forward. We cannot let him lock himself in mourning. Neither do you, either.

Jaehee Kang : … It is nice to want to do such a thing, but it's also very daring. We were all greatly impacted by her death, but it's nothing compared to V… Well, time is the answer, I guess.

Chieko : Time doesn't cure everything. Sometimes you have to agree to get help.

Jaehee Kang : … That is probably true. Thanks, Chieko.

Chieko : Thanks to you, Jaehee ! I enjoyed our conversation. :)

Jaehee Kang : I enjoyed it as well. If you will excuse me...

Jaehee Kang has left the chatroom.

Chieko has left the chatroom.

Her heart skipped a beat when she heard a knock on her door. Chieko then turned her curious eyes in the direction of the noise ; and  discovered a frail young girl advancing to the pedestal table. Without saying a word, she carefully came to deposit a piece of an appetizing strawberry shortcake in front of the Minister. But it was with even more special care that she made sure not to meet Chieko's gaze.

Still, what beautiful eyes she had. Mint blue, just like Saeran. Maybe it's his little sister ? They look a lot alike, and it's not her white hair that makes me think otherwise. What struck the little Minister the most, however, was the young lady's thinness, which was still apparent, despite the loose tunic she wore.

<< … Miss ? >>

After what seemed like an eternity to both of them, the young girl finally raised her head to stare Chieko straight in the eyes. A gaze so deep it almost seemed to be probing the entirety of her soul. And this sensation made her shiver all the more ; definitely, she felt helpless in front of such an unsettling pair of eyes. But ironically, she didn't think them as threatening, on the contrary. They were just blessed with disarming sincerity.

<<… You are in danger here. I will come back as soon as possible. In the meantime, do not accept food or drink from anyone other than me.

- ... Wait, why is that ? >> Chieko felt her throat tighten into a lump that choked her own voice. << Why would I believe you, anyway ?

- ... I can't take any longer than that now. I will come back at night. I count on your discretion. >>

Chieko thought she could discern, for a fraction of a second, a sympathetic smile burning the lips of the young girl. No, I must be dreaming. I'd better wait to find out more before rushing to conclusions. A poorly mastered curtsy and a brief wave later, she had already left her room, going out of sight, even from the hallway.

Who was she ? How many are there here ? Were my sources about  this cult reliable ? Or are they well over a thousand ? These questions danced in a loop in her head. Like a three-beat waltz. Calculated, repeated, endless movements. Movements that would continue indefinitely if she did not end them herself. Which she finally did, firmly planting her spoon in the cake. Yes, maybe this cake is poisoned. But if I ask myself too many questions, I will not eat, and I will starve sooner or later. 

#mystic messenger #mystic messenger jihyun #mysme #mysme v #mystic messenger jaehee #mystic messenger yoosung #mysme jaehee #mysme yoosung #jaehee kang #yoosung kim #estherocs #chieko konomi #meiimai #fanfiction #jihyun kim #v x cmc #find your sunspot

[combat-wombatus]

uHm if you do these and if you want to do it I’d love a bnha matchup <3?

• my name is Aubri, I’m bi but prefer MHA boys tbh. I go by she/her, too.

• I’m a very Gryffindor person. (Sorry if you don’t know Harry Potter - 😖)

• I’m a June cancer, and I have ADHD and anxiety. My anxiety can be literally crippling somedays, but it’s gotten better overtime.

• I’m a bit of a class clown and usually just a clown 🤡 but that’s irrelevant. My teachers all hate me but like school-wise I do well so we have a love and mostly hate relationship 🤧

• I’m usually the ‘entertaining’ friend, in elementary the popular kids would invite me to play games with them because, “you’re funny” and it was like the biggest achievement ever 😭👍🏻 then they’d ignore me but that’s another therapy session

• I’m usually made fun of by people for being ‘weird’ and ‘insane’. Like all through elementary everyone thought I’d be a criminal when I grew up JUST BECAUSE I HAD UNDIAGNOSED ADHD - I hate it here 😐🦶🏻

• I’ve always been super into crime stories/true crime (where my anxiety comes from, I’m always worried about a pesky serial killer just killing me. It’s usually being kidnapped tho lmao) so I knew and still know like all these murder facts and sometimes I’d just randomly be like;

“Hey did you know it takes 12 hours and 2 days to dissolve a body in acid?”

or

“If you bury a dead deer over a dead body you buried deep in the ground, when police dogs sniff it and people dig they’ll just think it was the deer and won’t dig any farther.”

• So maybe people had a reason to be scared of me and think I’ll be a criminal someday, i dunno.

• I love love love reading and writing, and also debating. The things I’ve wanted to be when I grow up are basically: Dog shelter worker, actress, FBI agent, politician, and a writer. But usually I just want to do something that makes a positive impact on people. Like i wanted to be an FBI agent to solve crimes for people. I wanted to be a politican so I could actually help a lot of people. The entertainment industry also seemed like a way to make people happy. Idk, but then I decided I couldn’t be a politican at 10 because they were all corrupt and to be one I would have to be too. 😫🤌🏻 we love some good childhood angst

• the only subjects I’ve ever excelled at are ELA and Social Studies aka History, and Math I can’t do to save my life. ELA comes easy for me and I usually don’t have to work that hard and/or get too stressed over it. But I always get the meanest teachers for some reason. For example, one time I did my final essay for like 30% of my grade in 30 minutes the day it was due and I got an A+ 🦟🦗🦟🦗

• Uhhh id describe myself as a pretty loyal friend, I’m a ride or die type of girl. A story from my childhood that summarizes it pretty well is when I was in 2nd grade my friend wet her pants and she didn’t want to go to the nurse for it alone so I peed my pants so I could go with her and she wouldn’t have to be alone. Like, you know, a professional problem solver

• and I have genuinely attacked people for fucking with my friends but don’t snitch pls 🕳🏃‍♀️💨

• But also just anyone, people at my school tend to come to me with their problems for me to either help solve them by reasoning, or just to confront the other person like the bad bleep I am 😈😈

• I also have a huge daydreaming problem, it’s literally maladaptive daydreaming. So paired with my ADHD I don’t get shit done like ever.

• I have really high empathy levels I guess, like I always say hi to everyone I see on the street, especially if they look sad 😔 I’ve done it ever since I was a little kiddo.

• My fashion sense is very much a preppy/alt style. I wear those ripped tights and fishnets, I also have the MOST BIZARRE JEWELRY- like who allowed me to buy the gummy worm glittery earrings, hmmm???????? and those Mary Janes???????

• But I love crew necks and pleated skirts so I always obide by the National “hoes dont get cold” policy 🇺🇸😫🦅

• I wanna move somewhere someday, I don’t want to stay in America for very long

• I can speak Latin, French, and my native language which is English.

• My music taste varies, but my all-time favorite artists who all of their music they’ve ever put out has been my favorites are, Billie Eilish, Melanie Martinez, and Conan Gray.

• I no-joke have a sign in my front yard that says;

In ✍️ this ✍️ house we ✍️ don’t ✍️ worship Jesus ✍️ but instead ✍️ Melanie ✍️ Martinez

• My favorite shows are MHA (duh), The Promised Neverland, and Malcolm in The Middle.

• and I’m not going to tell you what I prefer in a partner, because that ruins the fun 😤

• but I will say I cannot be friends with someone who doesn’t really make me laugh. Like I’m used to doing most of the talking in convos but if you’re just boring I’m sorry it’s nothing personal but no thanks 😐✌🏻

• About my physical appearance, I have fluffy n curly brown hair, but when it’s in the sunlight it looks sort of brown but golden yk?? It’s shoulder length :) I have bleach blonde streaks in the front. I like wearing eyeliner most days, too. I’m pretty average size/ on the skinnier side. Kinda high key inscure abt my body bc I got flat shamed in elementary EVEN THOUGH I HAVE TIDDIES NOW- whatever 😤🙄. I also have crystal type blue eyes, and I do have fairly big eyes. But, like, not weirdly big. A good big. My cheekbones are ALWAYS PRESENT so sometimes I get called a Tim Burton character but it’s cool ig ☠️☠️ oh and I’m kinda short. I’m 5’3, even though my doctor said I’d be 5’7. I feel like I was either tricked by the doctor or someone just stole my destined height while I was asleep. It’s probably cause I didn’t keep an eye out for Selener 👁 😔😔

• I’m a definite night owl, like all of my energy comes at night which really sucks cuz I can’t do much since everyone else is asleep.

• My love language is touch starved so I’ve never figured it out ✌🏻😗🔫

• but I am an attention whore so idk 😏

• I’m a huge introvert with social anxiety. It isn’t as bad as it used to be cuz I used to not be able to like go to restaurants but now I’m much better.

• I’m a huge history person, mostly like sad history LMFAO. Uh but a lot of my hyperfixations have been on history. Some examples are The Roman Empire, Julius Caesar himself, Anne Frank, The Titanic, the Black Plauge, Helen Keller, Marie Curie, Slavery in the US, Joan of Arc, and just a lot more. I always love talking about these things if someone would let me ramble to them but no one ever does 😖 it also got to a point where for all these subjects I’d go to the library and try to find a book on them but usually I’d either have already read it or I’d read it and know all the information.

• I’m super into Greek Mythology, I have 7 books filled with the stories, I’m going to Greece maybe this summer to see it’s history, and named my hamster Aphrodite but we call her Aphie. I also will talk about this forever and ever if you let me.

• My favorite color is yellow, my favorite food is literally nothing I never have an appetite, my favorite planet is Saturn, favorite song is Tag Your It by Melanie Martinez atm but it changes like everyday.

• Music is a huge safe-space for me if I’m feeling down or having a panic attack. It calms me down n is overall my coping mechanism 💃🏻💃🏻

• Biggest fear is spiders, even looking at one gives me a panic attack and I cannot sleep at all for that night, adding to my insomniac ass 🧎🏻‍♂️🏌️‍♀️

• I’m mature for my age, I don’t exactly like hanging around kids my age and I get along better with older crowds.

• i don’t like conventional dates, (I PROMISE IM NOT TRYING TO SOUND ‘QUIRKY’ AHAHA) I kind of like having a best-friend type partner more so dates that aren’t as romantic as like the movies or a fancy restaurant suite me better. My dream date is playing Monopoly on my bedroom floor 🦧

• Also I hate getting gifts. End of story. If someone gets me a gift like awe that’s nice but never again, I’d prefer to get you one. Especially in a romantic partner 😐 i keep a journal of my friends’ interests and hobbies so I can get them the perfect gifts for their bdays and Christmas’s. Been doing this ever since 4th grade.

• Though I don’t have much actual experience with relationships🧍🏻‍♀️

• I’m a huge believer in ‘family isn’t blood, it’s who you make it’ because I have a pretty shitty family life and my childhood has been trash. My friends are my family to me.

• Also if my friends don’t like my romantic partner ✨ GOODBYE ✨. Sorry girlie, bros before hoes 🦨💨

I was going to put more but I’m so so sorry for how LONG AND COMPLICATED THIS IS- idk if this is a autobiography or a matchup at this point 🤦‍♀️ don’t feel pressured to do this and if matchups aren’t open IM SO SO SORRY LMAO uh yeah ilysm 🦎🎂🧃

OMG ASLDFKJHASLKDJH

🥺 i’m so sorry bby but matchups are closed ;-; my 100 follower event was over while ago (i guess i should’ve specified that in the asks i answered LKSAJHFLKJAHDS SORRY IT’S MY BAD) but you sound so cool?? i had a lot of the same hyperfixations interests (heLLO helen keller was badass AF and the roman empire was messed up but still v cool, anne frank was awesome too) i also may or may not have wanted to be a politician when i was younger alskdjfhalkdhj but now i’m just 🧍🏻‍♀️ lost and anyways you’re amazing >.< love u lots and don’t forget to drink water and eat a lil something hehe :p 

#coco answers #nonnie <3

[zekroudon]

The Song of our Hearts (Lukadrien June 2020)

@lukadrien-june

Day 5: Freedom

Chat Noir stops his patrol on the Liberty to try and cheer up Luka. You can read on Ao3 here.  (I know I,m one day behind, I’ll post day 6 later today)

I was sitting on the bridge of the liberty with Luka beside me with his guitar. I was doing my usual patrol route when I saw him alone playing sad music. I decided to check on him and cheer him up, not wanting my friend to be akumatized. I was certainly not influenced by burgeoning feelings for him, every minute spent with Luka is time well spent, as with my other friends. Though, with him, it always feels more intimate. There’s something about him that calls to me, like a siren’s song alluring me to him.

Plagg likes to make fun of me when I try to deny my feelings for Luka, just like he did with Marinette. It was a little heartbreaking to realize that I had been too late to see her feelings for me, but after the reveal of our identities, we had agreed it was better not to date each other for the time being. Which in turn guided me to Luka. A selfish part of me was relieved that his relationship with her didn’t work out, just like my short one with Kagami, since it left me free to pursue a relationship with him.

If my mask offers me freedom, spending time with him gives it to me as Adrien. I’m free to be myself with Nino and Marinette too, but since they have been spending a lot of time with their girlfriends, I don’t spend a lot of time with them. I know that if I asked, they would all drop anything they have been doing to do something with me since my schedule is usually filled to the brim with photoshoots or other boring activities Father insists I do. Fencing is fun when I get to spend time with Kagami, and piano practice with Nino or Luka is always a blast, but other than that… I know how important love is and how you never know how much time you have left with your loved ones before they disappear, so I would rather let them spend time with their significant others than with me.

"It’s nice of you of staying, but you can continue your patrol, I’ll be fine. - It’s okay, it’s nice spending time with a fellow superhero, I add elbowing him lightly. - Yeah… - Is something bothering you? I don’t want to pry or anything… It’s just that you look sad."

Why would I say it like this? That’s dumb. So many words that exist and I picked sad? I facepalm while Luka hums a few notes.

"I could say the same about you, you know? I’m not great with words, but I’m a great listener… So if you want to talk or something… - Okay, but only if you tell me what’s bothering you… I’m an ameowzing listener with double the ears, I reply wiggling my leather ears. You start!"

I poke his arm as if we were playing a game of tag and a small smile creeps up on his face. I’m glad I managed to make him at least a little happier. He doesn’t say anything for a minute or two, probably evaluating his options or how to explain what is troubling him. He sighs loudly and deposits his guitar next to him.

"Well, there’s this guy… I really like him, but I’m not sure if he reciprocates my feelings…"

Oh. That starts well. It’s nice to know that he’s open to guys too, but if he thinks he’ll be happy with him, I’ll help him, no matter how hard it may be to let go of him… Maybe I’m just not meant to be loved romantically…

"He’s really nice, maybe too much for his well being, but still. He has this huge fan club that he can pick from and I’m sure that I’m not a choice he would consider…"

He likes XY? That’s surprising, I thought he hated him after they stole Kitty Section's music and costume designs. I guess I could use some of my connections to allow Luka to meet him again…

"My friend, Marinette, I think you may know her… She had a crush on him for a long time and even though she has a girlfriend now… it just feels weird you know. I don’t want to ruin our friendship because I ask her old crush out. - Yeah, that’s understandable… Though you should still ask him out, I’m sure Marinette won’t hold it against you…"

He picks up his guitar and starts strumming its cords in a yearning and unsure song. The guy Marinette had a crush on… He certainly isn’t speaking of himself, so it only leaves one other person…

" I don’t know… Adrien had a girlfriend… It may be too soon to ask him… - You’ll never know until you ask him. And for the record, you’re a clawesome guy and I’m sure Adrien would ask himself what you see in him. - What do you mean? I know he’s unsure sometimes, but he’s a great guy. I really hope you and Ladybug will give him another chance at being a hero, he’s a perfect fit for one. The snake may not have been meant for him, but I’m sure if you give him a second chance, he’d surprise both of you… Marinette too, by the way."

He likes me? Like Adrien me? I’m not Misterbug right now, am I? I touch my earlobes and they’re free of earrings. I feel like the day when I learned Marinette was Ladybug and that I had been the other guy all along. My head was in the clouds and nothing could have ruined my mood… until she said we couldn’t be together while Hawkmoth was still terrorizing Paris.

But, yeah… Let’s not repeat the Multimouse and Aspik fiascos. Ladybug was irritated by me for bringing it up so often, but in a way, I was right; Marinette is the perfect superhero as she's Ladybug, while the cat is the miraculous best suited for me. Looking back, it is funny, but it wasn’t sometimes then. We had a few fights because she wanted to give Adrien another Miraculous, and me with Marinette, but we had to protect our identities. Plagg laughed a lot, not us.

"I agree with you, but I can’t tell you more, in case we have picked them for a Miraculous to protect their identities since so many of you were outed by Miracle Queen. - That’s fair. - It’s just that, in some ways, I’m a bit like Adrien... In my civilian life, people look up to me, admire me, they make me seem perfect. I know many would be thrilled by all this attention, but sometimes it gets suffocating. They claim their love for me, but it’s not the real me… This mask the Miraculous gives me, it allows me to experiment, to laugh and have fun. It gives me the freedom to express parts of myself I can’t usually without being reprimanded. - I think that you may be right, the Adrien that hangs out with us is not the same we see on television or when Nathalie is with him… His song is always different as if it was smothered by her and his father. It’s a shame, I love his heart song and I’d love to help him make it louder. Sometimes, it’s like chains are keeping him in low and calm beats when he longs for a crescendo…"

I’m thankful for the darkness of the night and Luka’s lack of night vision, it allows me to hide my blush from him. We stay silent for a while, but him playing music relaxes both of us and it allows him to express himself. His music echoes over the silent Seine, creating a nice ambiance, one I know I’ll get to experience more often if we get together. My tail sweeps the deck behind us, dangerously close to him, and I stifle my purr, preferring to not deal with that awkwardness that would come afterward. I deeply hope he’ll play my song for me one day…

#Lukadrien June 2020 #Lukadrien #adrien agreste #Luka Couffaine #chat noir #day 5: freedom #zekroudon's fics

[let-it-raines]

Catch Me If You Can (15/?)

298 days. That’s how long Killian Jones was away from a baseball field. It’s less than a year, only part of a season for him, but it might as well have lasted a decade as he alternated between physical therapy and spending an excessive amount of time sitting on his couch.

But then he came back and won the World Series.

It’s something no one saw coming, and it’s certainly not something anyone who knows about his arm would predict. Now it’s a new season with new possibilities, and anything could happen. On-field reporter Emma Swan will be there to cover it all even if she is not his biggest fan right now.

Asking her out live on-air will do that.

Rating: Mature

A/n: I’m currently writing the last official chapter of this story. How weird is that? I can’t believe it either...which is probably why it’s taking me forever to figure out the perfect way to end this story. Thanks to @resident-of-storybrooke for killing her eyes to read all of the words in this story 🥰

Found on AO3: Beginning | Current

Tumblr: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 |15 |

Tag list: @xellewoods @galaxyzxstark @eala-captian @mariakov81 @ultraluckycatnd @royalswan @shey-starsfury @sals86 @iam2307 @ashley-knightingale @karenfrommisthaven @scientificapricot @captswanis4vr @ultimiflos @jamif @idristardis @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke @tiganasummertree @bmbbcs4evr @onceuponaprincessworld @jennjenn615 @mayquita @captainsjedi @teamhook @notoriouscs @kmomof4 @ekr032-blog-blog @cs-forlife @andiirivera @jonirobinson64 @qualitycoffeethings @thejollyroger-writer

-/-

When Emma wakes up, she rolls over on her mattress and buries her face further into her pillow, kicking some of the extra throw pillows off the bed and wondering why the hell she has so many things that look cute but cannot be comfortably slept with.

Seriously.

This is all TJ Maxx’s fault, and she’d like to damn whoever decided to put a store in seven blocks from her apartment. She shouldn’t even go inside, but she does. Every. Single. Time.

(So maybe it’s a little bit her fault too.)

Finally, she finds a spot that’s comfortable, her eyes shutting and her body calming down into the softness of the mattress so that she can fall back asleep when her phone starts blaring, her alarm vibrating across the top of her bedside table, and for a moment, she considers throwing her phone out the window so that she never has to get up from bed.

She’ll get fired from her job. And probably die from bed sores or something else equally as dramatic.

It’s the first thought that has her rolling over and turning the alarm off, the shrill blaring sound going away, and her eyes have to squint at the bright light to recognize that it’s seven in the morning and she does actually have to get up for work right now.

Her job is great, but she doesn’t get weekends off like normal people. And noon games are her actual worst nightmare.

Today is a noon game. She’s also got that dinner with David, Mary Margaret, and Ruth, and she’s unnaturally nervous about it as she almost always is when it comes to Ruth.

Like a zombie, she rises from her bed and shuffles into the bathroom before making her way out to the kitchen, adjusting her shorts and the sweatshirt that she’s wearing as she stumbles into the kitchen, the smell of coffee already filling her nostrils.

“Bless you,” she mumbles to Ruby who is sitting at their kitchen table with a mug already in hand before she fixes herself her own cup, not even bothering for it to cool down much more before she takes a large sip. If only caffeine worked right away. That would be the dream. “Why do you already look so put together?”

“I always look put together.”

“Liar.”

“I couldn’t sleep last night, and when I woke up, I just kind of got up, I guess. And now I’m sitting here dying inside. At least I don’t look like I’m dying. A family of birds could live in your hair.”

“That is not true.”

“It is. Have you looked at yourself this morning?”

“Yes,” Emma lies, taking another sip of her coffee. She most definitely didn’t when she was in the bathroom, but as long as her tits aren’t showing, she doesn’t really care what she looks like at home. “And I haven’t gotten ready yet. I’ll look nicer for the game.”

“I would hope so. I don’t think that they let reporters not brush their hair and roll out onto the field in sweatshirts. Where’d you get that, by the way? I don’t recognize it.”

And while she may be half asleep and her coffee might not have an instantaneous effect, she knows that she fucked up.

She’s wearing Killian’s Vanderbilt sweatshirt. The one she keeps stealing. She’s had it in her possession for two weeks now, ever since Toronto and the morning after they slept together, and she’s been sleeping in it because it’s comfortable and kind of smells like Killian.

It definitely smells like Killian.

And Ruby can see her wearing it.

Shit.

Shit, shit, shit, no, no, no.

It’s instinct to cross her arms over her chest in an attempt to cover up the faded words all the while she tries to come up with some kind of excuse. She’s not sure that she’s ready for their friends to know about the relationship yet. A part of her definitely wants to say something, but she and Killian probably need to talk about it first.

But what if it somehow gets out past that?

What if someone besides their friends and family know? It’s too soon. It’s all too soon for that, and she just can’t right now. It’s the middle of the season, so much time left in front of them, and she can’t let anything jeopardize her career.

Emma has no idea what to do, and she’s terrified of everything crumbling beneath her.

This is the happiest she’s ever been in a relationship, and the repercussions…she doesn’t even want to imagine them.

“Uh, um,” she stutters to Ruby, making sure that her face isn’t giving away her lie, “I’m not sure. I must have swiped it from David’s house one day. You know how he’s always got sweatshirts from all over the place.”

Ruby’s eyes squint at her from over her coffee mug, and it takes everything in Emma not to bounce off the balls of her feet. All in all, it was a pretty good lie because David most definitely does have all kinds of sweatshirts from different professional teams and colleges, but this is not David’s sweatshirt.

How could she have been so careless?

Ruby is so damn observant, but there’s no way she can make the connection over a sweatshirt, right?

“I need to steal some stuff from him,” she finally sighs, going back to her coffee. “It looks so much comfier than the things Graham has. I swear, if it’s a scratchy material, he buys it.”

“At least it looks nice on him.”

“This is true, my friend. His clothes do fit him well, but you know I much prefer him without any.”

There’s a knock on the wall that’s connected to Ruby and Graham’s bedroom. “I can hear the two of you, and sweetheart, it’s too early for you to be making sex jokes about me to Emma.”

Emma has to put her coffee mug down on the countertop as she laughs, the giggles stemming from deep in her stomach. Graham is the best and usually goes along for Ruby’s antics, but sometimes it’s too damn funny when he’s asking her to stop talking.

Definitely an opposites attract pair, but they work. Really well, actually. Emma keeps waiting for Graham to tell her that he’s going to propose to Ruby, but it hasn’t happened yet.

She should probably get her own place if it does. How weird is it to live with a married couple? Like, an eight on a scale of ten? Maybe a little less when rent is so high. But definitely at least a five.

“I love you,” Ruby shouts back, knocking on the wall three times.

Graham simply knocks three times in response.

“You two are ridiculous.”

“I know, but I like to think that I bring out the ridiculous in everyone.”

“You do. What time do you want to leave for work?”

Ruby hums as she taps her chin with her perfectly manicured nail. “In an hour and a half?”

“Perfect.”

-/-

Late June in the Bronx is basically a blazing hellfire, and Emma keeps sneaking into the air-conditioned press box every chance she gets only to be sent back outside to do an interview with a player or a coach or even a kid who caught a foul ball. It’s a little ridiculous, but it’s her job so she sucks it up.

At least she’s not wearing a full-blown uniform and exercising like all of the guys are. Most of them are soaked in sweat, even the ones simply sitting in the dugout, and she does not envy them at all.

All she really envies right now are people taking a cold shower.

It’s late June. She doesn’t even want to imagine what it’s going to be like in August or September.

Killian throws another ball, and then there’s a smack of bat against ball and a white and red blur that shoots out into right field only for John Little to catch it, ending the top of the third inning and Killian’s time on the mound today. They’re all leaving for London in five days, and Al has expressly stated that they are not screwing up Killian’s arm for a game where so many people are going to be watching.

She knows that it’s more because they’re playing the Red Sox than anything else, but she doesn’t mind preserving Killian’s arm when they can. His pitches haven’t been averaging quite as fast as they usually are, but she figures it’s probably a tactical change. She’ll have to ask him about that in the locker room later.

The next two hours seem to idle by, nothing too exciting happening, and when the game is over, she moves from her press spot, flashing her ID to the guard in front of the entrance to the tunnels, and makes her way through the hallways she knows like the back of her hand until she’s in the clubhouse with Jeff following right behind her. It’s loud in there, cheers and yelling and celebrations over their win, and it takes her ten minutes before she can even get someone to talk to her, other reporters pretty much taking up everyone’s time as all of the players move into various states of undress.

“Don’t you ever get tired of talking to us?” Will asks with a cheeky grin as he brushes sweat off of his buzzed hair. “I mean, damn. I get tired of talking to us, and I actually think you may be around more than me.”

She chuckles, unable to help herself. She’s always loved Scarlet’s dry sense of humor, and he’s nearly as easy to talk to as Killian or Robin or even Eric. “To you, most definitely. But I have my favorites on the team that I like.”

“Doc? King? Locksley? Fisher? Jones? Whale? I could go all day.”

“I can’t tell you,” she teases, messing with her microphone in her hand. “You want to answer some questions for me today?”

“As long as it’s not about me getting engaged, I’m perfectly fine with that.”

“You’re engaged?” Emma gasps, covering her mouth with her hand. “That’s so exciting! How did I miss that?”

“I have no idea since you talk to my girlfriend on Instagram.”

“Technically she’s your fiancée now.”

Will smiles at that a soft little thing that’s so unlike him and yet entirely him, and it makes her smile to herself. Will and Belle are getting married. That’s wonderful, but she did tell him she wasn’t going to ask about any of it, so she doesn’t, sticking to game stats and assessments and asking how he feels about their upcoming series in London. It’s the same with everyone she talks to, and after twenty minutes in there talking and chatting, she’s finished with her work and starts undoing all of the cords attached to her as Jeff turns off his camera and walks ahead of her as they leave the room.

But then there’s a strong grip around her wrist, and she’s being pulled away and down the hallway to what is a storage locker. If she didn’t know that it was Killian tugging her along, she’d assume she was being murdered.

She still could be and boy would that be a plot twist.

“What the hell?” she gasps out on a broken breath as the door closes behind her and all she can see is Killian’s face and shower-damp hair and a shelf full of cleaning supplies that make the entire room smell like bleach. “Why are you pulling me off into storage closets?”

He smiles, this really bright and cheesy thing, before strong hands are cupping her cheeks and soft lips and prickly scruff are brushing against her mouth and her chin in a slow, pleasant burn. This is how it’s been ever since Toronto two weeks ago. They slept together, and it was like this flip switched where they absolutely could not get enough of each other.

Not that she minds.

It’s electric. Honestly and truly. If they had easier access to each other, she knows that it would be even more intense, that they would be staying overnight and moving under the sheets until she couldn’t walk the next day. That actually almost happened last week, her body so sore afterwards, and as amazing as it was, that cannot be a frequent thing.

A girl has got to be able to walk.

She really, really likes Killian, is so close to loving him that it terrifies her, and sometimes she looks into his eyes and swears that if someone told her he hung the stars in the sky, she’d believe them.

This was never how any of this was supposed to go.

“Hi,” he growls, pulling at her upper lip before he pulls back so that their foreheads rest together.

“Hi,” she sighs as she wraps her arms around his neck, pulling him closer to her and feeling the softness of his hair. “You played well today.”

“I was okay.”

“But in the second, you – ”

“I know.”

“Do you?”

“I do,” he promises, quickly brushing his lips over hers. “Have I mentioned how much I love that my girlfriend is an expert in my job?”

“Maybe a time or two, but this time it sounds slightly less macho man-ish.”

“That’s my goal.”

“Good.” Her stomach swoops at the smirk on his face, and she really wishes they were back at his apartment instead of in this stupid supply closet. “Why didn’t you tell me Will and Belle got engaged?”

“Because I legitimately didn’t know until right before the game. It apparently leaked or something, and he was all pissed about it. I think Belle posted the ring after it all to kind of beat out tabloids from making money off of them. They’re happy.”

“I would hope so. They’re getting married. People are usually pretty happy for that.”

“Eh, sometimes there’s those people who aren’t actually happy and think a new title and diamond ring will make them happy.”

“True.” Emma leans back against the door, the wood hitting the back of her skull, as she runs her fingers through Killian’s hair. It’s all long and messy again, and she honestly can’t decide which way she likes it best. “I do not want to deal with the crowd on the train getting out of here on the way to David’s.”

“I could drive you,” he offers with a shrug.

“Oh yeah, because that won’t at all be obvious. Also, I think we need to talk.”

“I’ve found that I’m rarely in for a pleasant conversation when a woman tells me that.”

“Shut up, you ass.” She slaps the back of his head, but all he does is give her another cocky grin. So dumb. So, so dumb. “Okay, so, like, hear me out.”

“I have my listening ears on.”

“Yeah, little pointy ones.”

“Swan.”

“Okay, okay,” she mumbles, bringing her bottom lip between her teeth as she bounces on her toes. “I’m not – I’m not one hundred percent sure on this, especially with what I just found out about Will and Belle, but I think it might be time we told my friends and your family about us. Just a few people, the ones we trust the most, because I’m starting to slip up on where I’ve been or who I’m talking to when they ask. Also, I feel really shitty every time I lie to Ruby or David or Mary Margaret or someone else who is my friend.”

His lips are parted, mouth gaping open, and he’s blinking at her like she’s a crazy person. She might actually be.

“W-what? Are you serious?”

“I’m serious about us thinking about it. I’m still not completely sure on the entire thing. I think, maybe when we get back from London, we can have another conversation about it. I like to think this is going pretty well, and while I don’t want our relationship to escape us or our families, I don’t think we can keep doing this without telling the people we love.”

Killian’s brows furrow, his eyes thin lines beneath them, and his hands finally dip from her cheeks down to her shoulders with his nails digging into her skin over her freckles. “Let’s think on it, yeah? Don’t get me wrong, I’m more than thrilled that you feel confident and happy in us enough that you want to tell people, but I don’t want to expose you even more to the world. Because in our circles of people, love, it’s going to be a big deal that we’re dating.”

He’s right. She knows that he is. She’s had the same thoughts.

“I know. We’ll figure it out though, right?”

“Absolutely.” Killian squeezes her shoulders once more before dipping his head down and gently slanting his lips over hers in quick succession. “Now, as much fun as I’m having inhaling all of these chemical fumes, I think you have somewhere to be.”

“Don’t remind me.”

“Emma, love,” he says tenderly, thumbing at the indent in her chin as he smiles that reassuring smile at her, “you’re going to be fine. It’s your family. You love them. I know you do. And you’re going to be reminded of that the moment you get comfortable sitting on David’s couch and relax into dinner.”

Right once more.

“Okay, okay,” she exhales, pulling in Killian for a hug so that she can bury her face in his shoulder and breathe him in instead of the chemical fumes for a moment, “I can do this.”

-/-

Killian was exactly right like she knew he was but didn’t like to admit outside of her head. She was building up the awkwardness, building up the strained relationship with Ruth like she always does, and while it wasn’t the best thing at first, now that she’s sitting crisscrossed on David’s couch with a glass of wine in her hand, she can think of few other places she’d rather be.

This is her family, even when she doesn’t admit it, and for a girl who never really got to have a family until she was too messed up to truly accept one, this is absolutely everything.

Just…everything.

“And then, Grandma,” Leo continues, walking back and forth through the room, “Captain America holds his shield up while the bad guys try to attack him, but he’s too fast for them.”

“This Captain America sounds like a cool guy,” Ruth laughs, very obviously confused about the whole thing. She has not caught onto the Marvel bug, which is pretty much a sin when Leo has been obsessed with Captain America for months. Mary Margaret and David say it’s the longest he’s ever been interested in one thing, and when Emma thinks about it, she believes it. “Do you think you’re going to be as strong as him?”

“Probably not,” Leo shrugs, “but he started off really small like I am so maybe if I’m tall like Dad and not short like Mom.”

“Hey,” Mary Margaret protests, her eyes cutting at her son while Emma and David snicker underneath their breaths, “I am not that short.”

“Mom, I’m ten, and I’m almost taller than you when you’re, like, seventy years old.”

“Leo David Nolan, I am not seventy years old. I’m thirty-nine. Don’t age me like that.”

“What’s wrong with being nearly seventy years old?” Ruth teases, and Mary Margaret’s pale cheeks immediately flush red.

“Nothing, nothing. I – ”

“I’m nearly teasing you, sweetheart,” Ruth sighs before turning her attention to Emma. “I watched your game today. You looked so beautiful, but why are they still showing you eating every time?”

Well, damn, she didn’t know that was still happening, so she takes another sip of her wine and rolls her eyes as she laughs. “I have no idea. Like, it’s a running joke at this point. You can literally google ‘Emma Swan eating’ and all of these videos pop up. Leo told me that they even add songs to them now.”

“They do,” David chuckles. “I showed him those.”

“You’re awful.”

“I actually think I’m pretty awesome.”

“That’s debatable.”

“Look, Grandma,” Leo laughs, taking Mary Margaret’s iPad over to Ruth, “here’s one of the ones with music. It’s so funny!”

“You guys are the worst,” Emma groans as she places her glass down and sinks into the couch. “The absolute worst.”

“You just seem to have a face for funny moments,” Mary Margaret says sympathetically, reaching over to pat her thigh. “It’s because you do a little dance when you’re eating good food, I think.”

That makes her smile. It’s always what Killian is saying about her when he’s teasing her over her eating habits, and that’s when she suddenly remembers that hat that she still hasn’t given to Leo. It’s been sitting in the bag she carries with her to and from games for weeks now, and she keeps forgetting to give it to the kid. He may still like Captain America, but he’s probably moved on to another favorite player.

Quickly, she gets up from the couch and walks to the entryway where she left the bag, shuffling through it until she pulls out the signed hat, and then holds it behind her back, a genuine smile curling on her lips.

“Leo,” she sing-songs, immediately getting his attention as his brown hair falls across his forehead, “if you stop showing Grandma weird videos of me online, I have a surprise for you.”

“Way to bribe my kid,” David whines without much conviction.

“It’s not a bribe. Not technically.”

“What do you have?” Leo gasps, taking the iPad away from Ruth. “What is it? What is it?”

God, to have the enthusiasm of kids. Life would be so much simpler. And happier probably.

She’s pretty happy now anyways.

Slowly, she pulls the hat around from behind her back, and Leo’s brows furrow in confusion. Of course they do. To him, it probably just looks like a random hat since the autograph can’t really be seen.

“A Yankees hat? I have a couple of those already.”

“Leo,” Mary Margaret and David say at the same time.

“It’s fine, guys,” she laughs, stepping a little closer. “Remember when you asked me if I could get you a hat signed by Killian Jones?”

Now Leo’s face lights up, a bright smile practically taking up all of it, and he runs to her and immediately wraps his arms around her waist in a hug so tight that she loses all of the air in her lungs.

“Thank you,” he sighs before releasing her and taking the hat out of her hands, staring down at for a moment only to put it on top of his head. It’s too big for him without being adjusted, but he doesn’t even care.

She feels like the coolest aunt in the world right now.

“You’re the coolest aunt in the world.”

Ah, so confirmation then.

“Killian Jones is the man who asked you out, right?” Ruth questions, and Emma has to bite her tongue as she moves to resume her place back on the couch. She wishes she had more wine, but she’s got to be up early again tomorrow and doesn’t need more to drink. “You’re still talking to him?”

“I mean, only for my job,” she lies. “He’s a nice guy, so he was really happy to sign something for Leo.”

Ruth nods her head, and Emma thinks that it’s the end of the conversation when it’s most definitely not. “So, are you dating anyone, dear? I don’t mean to pry, but I do like to know about your life and you’re much more difficult to get information about than David.”

“That’s because Mary Margaret can’t keep a secret.”

“Why am I feeling so attacked right now?” Mary Margaret laughs.

“Well, you can’t, honey,” David says to his wife. “You are the worst at keeping secrets, and you overshare all the time.”

“That seems like a bit of an exaggeration.”

“It’s really not, Marg,” Emma tells her before turning back to Ruth. “I’m not dating anyone right now,” she lies again, more guilt building up in her stomach, but she and Killian are going to talk about it after London when they’re not in a storage closet, “but I’m really happy. Things at work are going well, even if I’m busy, and I love all of my friends and family and how much time I’m getting to spend with them. But if something on the dating front seriously changes, I’ll let you know.”

Ruth winks at her, a smile on her face. “Well, I don’t believe that for a second.”

Emma stays there for the rest of the night, all five of them eating and watching movies with talking in between. Leo insists that Ruth get caught up on anything and everything Captain America, and even though she falls asleep during several of the movies, she does learn a little bit more, making sure to ask all of the right questions. She’s so good with Leo, with everyone really, and it reminds Emma of when she was a terrified fifteen-year-old moving into a new foster home not knowing what was going to be awaiting her.

For someone who was so unloved and never thought she’d find love, living with Ruth Nolan was a shock to her system. She hates that her own walls and issues kept her – keep her – from always accepting that love and genuine kindness, and she hates that she let Neal influence her to not believe that Ruth was her family.

She is.

Most definitely in every way, and this is going to be something that Emma works on. She’s very much determined to do so.

Her life is a good one, and despite how complicated it is sometimes, she deserves to be happy in as many ways as possible.

When the movies are finished and Emma is ready to go home and go to bed, she whispers words of goodbye to everyone, promising to come over again for dinner tomorrow and to bring Ruby and Graham with her since they are always itching for an invitation.

“It’s so good to see you, darling,” Ruth sighs into her hair as they hug goodbye. “I love you.”

Emma nods her head against Ruth’s neck, a smile on her lips. “I love you too.”

#catch me if you can #cs ff #cs fic #captain swan fic #captain swan

[lefaystrent]

Five Times

Fandom: Thomas Sanders, Sanders Sides

Pairings: platonic Analogical, mentions of prinxiety

Summary: There were five times that Virgil’s path crossed with Logan Sanders. Each time memorable, each time helping to shape Virgil into the kind of person he wants to be.

AO3 Link

There were five times that Virgil’s path crossed with Logan Sanders.

The first memorable moment had been in first grade, back when he’d had a different name and different pronouns. Logan had been an oddball of a child. He was the new kid in class, his family moving over from across the sea, and instead of that winning him ‘cool’ points, most of his classmates thought his English accent was funny and something to be mocked. None of the others really wanted to play with him, not that it seemed to affect him either way. Similarly, nobody wanted to play with Virgil, or Angel as he’d been called then. But that was because she was shy and hardly spoke a word, therefore she was boring.

One day during class, they were all coloring pictures. Angel didn’t understand why, but Logan walked up to her desk to inspect her drawing. She didn’t have anything against the boy. She never joined in with the other kids when they called him stupid names. But she never intervened either, and Angel wondered briefly if Logan was upset about that and wanted to tear up her picture in revenge.

Blue eyes gauged the paper in a serious manner, and it reminded Angel of when her dad was talking about adult stuff to other adults. Logan had that older look about him, despite his scrawny size.

At length, Logan set down a crayon on her desk. “Here. Purple’s your color.”

Then he walked away with no explanation.

They never spoke to each other for years after that, though Angel would always remember it as a curious thing. The next time their paths crossed was the summer before ninth grade.

Angel had always felt out of place, whether it was at school or with her personality and body. It was a time when she still didn’t know who she was, much less what to do about it. And then she met her best friend, a girl named Jeanne. She was one of the popular girls and had seen how timid Angel was and took her under her wing some time ago. She was seen as the all-around ‘nice’ girl who everyone liked, and Angel was proud to claim that they were best friends.

In the middle of June that summer, Jeanne had a party at her house. Problem was, her parents weren’t home.

“I thought you said Valerie and Dahlia were gonna be here,” Angel whispered to her shortly after arriving.

“They are,” Jeanne laughed. “There’s just a few more people here too.”

A few more turned out to be over twenty teenagers, many of them who Angel knew but hardly spoke to. Jeanne’s family had a beautiful large house, the kind that everyone recognized and all the kids talked about having something similar when they grew up. It was able to fit all the guests, but it was still crowded and made Angel nervous. She had told her dad that she was only hanging out with a few of her girl friends. If he found out about this . . .

Jeanne tried to convince her to lighten up, to get excited. All Angel felt was resigned. She couldn’t leave because then Jeanne would think she was lame. It didn’t stop her from wishing she was home though, especially when the longer the party went on, the more Angel realized that Jeanne’s parents didn’t even know that the party was happening.

There was loud music and games, and at some point Jeanne got some of her parent’s alcohol out. Everyone wanted to try some and pretend to be adults, and the one time Angel attempted to whisper to Jeanne about them being underage, she brushed her off.

“We’re about to be high schoolers. We should start acting like it.”

If this was what it meant to be a high schooler, Angel wanted to stay in junior high forever. And yet, there was a part of her that questioned if she was being too sensitive. Jeanne was just helping her overcome her own shy, boringness. And Angel didn’t want to be shy and boring for forever.

So that’s how Angel found herself playing a game of spin the bottle. When the bottle landed on someone, the two chosen players went to the closet to have seven minutes in Heaven, apparently.

What surprised Angel was not so much her own willingness to participate in such a game. That paled in comparison to seeing Logan Sanders of all people there. He didn’t look like the kind of guy who went to parties. He was still the weird kid, and Angel wasn’t sure how many friends he actually had, but there were more people amused by him now.

“What I’m saying is that everyone has their own perspective of what Heaven is. It’s different for everyone.”

“What does that even mean, Logan?”

“It means that someone’s Heaven could consist entirely of jelly. What if I wanted seven minutes in jelly Heaven?”

Everyone in the circle cracked up. The only people who weren’t laughing were Logan and Angel. Angel was merely watching. Meanwhile, Logan looked strangely invested.

“Whatever, Logan,” someone said, a guy from their baseball team. “Just spin the bottle.”

Logan gave up his debate and spun the bottle. When it landed, there were whoops and hollers, and the next thing Angel knew, she was in a dark closet with Logan Sanders.

“It’s dark in here,” Logan said needlessly.

“That it is,” Angel agreed. She could hear the party go on outside their little space. Barely a foot in front of her stood Logan, nearly a head taller than her. Not that she could see him. She could certainly feel his presence and hear his breath, and her heart should be racing at the thought of what they were supposed to do, so why did she feel so calm?

“Do you like jelly?” he asked.

“Uh . . . yeah. I like it on toast.”

“So a heaven filled with jelly wouldn’t be too much to ask, would it?”

“I don’t have any jelly on me.”

“That’s okay, I forgive you,” Logan said, and she couldn’t tell if he was joking or not.

Maybe this was why she felt calm. The people outside that door were expecting them to do obscene things like regular teens would, but Logan had never been a regular teen.

They ended up sitting on the floor squished together. They talked about random things like jelly heaven, and Angel never questioned it. Likewise, Logan appeared to appreciate her never questioning the topics and allowing the conversation to flow unimpeded. It was surprisingly easy to talk to Logan once you accepted his odd trains of thought.

Inevitably, Angel asked why Logan had come to the party.

“You’re friends with Jeanne,” he stated, and for a second she thought he meant that Angel had something to do with him being there.

“Yeah?”

“You know her cousin, Roman.”

“Yeah.”

“He’s friends with my brothers. Sort of.”

“Sort of?”

“It’s complicated. Baguettes aren’t really that useful in a sword fight.”

“I see,” she said, though she really didn’t.    

Angel would never get to hear the full explanation. She’d later assume that Roman had something to do with Logan being at the party that day, but as it was at that moment, Jeanne’s parents returned home early.

And boy were they pissed. They killed the music and Logan and Angel could hear Jeanne’s mother’s voice, shrill with anger, chewing her out. All the kids were kicked out, and Angel and Logan sat quietly wondering if the seven-minutes-rule still applied or if they could leave. They sat there awkwardly until the door opened. It was Jeanne’s dad and they nearly gave him a heart attack.

Jeanne’s parents knew Angel, and even though she hadn’t even been doing anything with Logan, they still called her dad and told him everything. After that, Angel was grounded and wasn’t allowed to hang out with Jeanne anymore.

High school came and with it came changes.

Angel became Virgil. Same anxious, confused mess true, but a mess that strived to feel more comfortable in its own skin.

Virgil made new friends. He stopped agonizing over how a girl was supposed to act and look. He allowed himself to enjoy the fact that guys were easier to connect with.

As for his best friend, he and Jeanne didn’t speak anymore. It wasn’t as big of a loss as Virgil first thought it would be. Virgil had admired Jeanne’s popularity and kindness for a long time, but Virgil deserved friends who wouldn’t force him out of his comfort zone, and Virgil felt all the more confident in his decision to stay away from Jeanne after seeing how fake she became in high school.

Years went by and Virgil didn’t see much of Logan Sanders. They were in different classes, and when the students weren’t in class, Virgil was hanging out with his friends. There was Patton, sweet and sometimes naïve and Virgil’s go-to person for when he felt overwhelmed. Then there was Roman and Dee, his gaming buddies. Emile was a chill guy and they mostly talked about tv shows of similar interest. Remy, Emile’s boyfriend, ran a ‘black magic’ club that Virgil was a part of, but they pretty much just played Dungeons & Dragons the whole time.

The third time Virgil had anything to do with Logan Sanders was during their Junior year. It was winter and apparently raining literal buckets, according to Logan.

“I guess it’s true when they say humans don’t look up enough. I should have looked up,” he said, plucking at his drenched shirt morosely.

Virgil had found him on his way to the gym for PE class. Logan had been sitting outside by himself on an out-of-the-way bench. Virgil almost didn’t stop but he’d seen the pinched look to Logan’s face and how he was sitting out in the cold in a wet t-shirt.

“You said Roman did this to you?” Virgil asked, confused. Why would Roman target Logan Sanders of all people? They never had anything to do with each other. Roman practically lived in the drama clubroom, and Logan stuck to quiz bowl type groups.

Logan shrugged. “Not on purpose. He’s in a prank war with Joan. You know Joan? Yeah, I tripped the bucket that was meant for them. My fault for not looking up.”

Virgil heaved a huge sigh. Now that sounded more like Roman. Idiot.

Speaking of idiots . . .

“Why are you just sitting out here then? You’ll freeze like this.”

“Probably for the best,” Logan said, nodding as if he’d always known it would come to this. “I didn’t have another shirt, and I can’t go to class like this. So I’ll just sit here.”

“Don’t be stupid. Come on, get up.”

“What?”

“I said get up,” Virgil ordered, waving his hands for the other to follow him. Realistically, he should have considered the fact that he and Logan weren’t friends and he was under no obligation to listen to him. He could have snapped at Virgil and would probably be justified, except the fact that he was literally freezing out here, but he didn’t even seem to register that fact.

“Why?” Logan asked. It didn’t sound like he opposed getting up, just that he wanted a good enough reason to. God, Virgil knew he was weird, but was he really this stupid too?

“Because you’ll freeze like this. Honestly, you could have asked a teacher or something for help.”

Logan glanced down at his shoes. He rubbed them in the dead grass back and forth. “I didn’t want to bother anybody.”

It occurred to Virgil then that Logan might not only be weird but socially anxious as well. Actually, that might explain why he was so weird or awkward in social situations. Maybe he had anxiety issues.

Virgil revaluated him, taking an extra minute to really look at Logan. Did he not have any friends he was comfortable enough with to seek help from? If that was the case, there was only one thing left to do.

“Here,” Virgil said, shrugging off his hoodie and offering it to him. Virgil had owned the thing for years, loving how it swallowed his figure with its bagginess, like a protective blanket. Virgil felt exposed without it on, but he couldn’t just walk away either. “You can go take your shirt off and put this on. If you zip it up, no one will notice you’re not wearing a shirt underneath.”

Logan blinked at the offered hoodie. He tilted his head slightly. “You want me to strip right here?”

If Virgil were more easily embarrassed, He would have blushed (because he didn’t doubt for a second that Logan was crazy enough to follow through on that). As it was, Virgil was more exasperated than anything. “No, I meant that you could take this to the bathroom and change.”

Logan nodded, accepting his explanation but not the hoodie. “I don’t want to touch it at the moment. I’m all sticky.”

“Uh . . . what?”

“I’m sticky.”

“Yeah, I heard that. I meant why?”

“Roman filled the bucket up with Kool-Aid. It was strawberry flavored.”

Who knew why it was important to Logan to specify the flavor, but that might explain the red tint to Logan’s skin. And here Virgil just thought it was the cold.

“Of course Roman filled it with Kool-Aid,” Virgil said, shaking his head. He gestured for Logan to follow him again. “Whatever. You can just go to the bathroom and wash off the best you can then before you put it on.”

Logan obeyed this time. Virgil stood outside the men’s bathroom while Logan cleaned himself up. Nobody stopped to question why Virgil was standing there in the hallway doing nothing while classes were in session. More than likely, the staff were mixed up in dealing with Roman and Joan and the mess of Kool-Aid. Virgil would bet money that Logan had walked off after getting the bucket dumped on him, otherwise a teacher wouldn’t have let his wet-self go sit outside in the cold. Or maybe he’d stayed long enough for the principal to show up and while the pranksters were getting chewed out, Logan slipped away to avoid the confrontation.

Virgil glanced at the closed bathroom door and checked the time on his phone.

At this rate, he’d be marked absent in PE.

He remained by the door, waiting for as long as it took.

After more time than what was probably needed, Logan came out looking far more dry and wearing Virgil’s hoodie. It was simple and black, not at all distinguishable as Virgil’s. That meant none of his friends would be able to tell he had leant it, though truthfully Virgil wasn’t ashamed of being associated with Logan. As far as Virgil knew, he was an okay guy.

“Thanks. This feels better,” Logan told him.

Virgil looked him over, spotted what was missing, and asked where he had put his shirt.

“Oh, that? I threw it in the trash.”

“But . . . that was your shirt.”

He shrugged. “It was wet and sticky and I didn’t want to carry it around. Besides, it’s not like it’s a family heirloom or anything. I can get another shirt.”

“Well, you’re not wrong.” But he wasn’t exactly right either.

He plucked at the dark material, looking vaguely unsure. “Want me to give you back your jacket before the end of school?”

Virgil waved him off. “Nah. I’m not gonna make you go home shirtless. Just get it back to me tomorrow.”

“Technically, I’m shirtless right now.”

“Technically, you know what I meant, so shut up.”

“Only technically,” Logan agreed. But he nodded and for the first time, Virgil saw a little smile light up his face.

Virgil looked around himself, figured this was where they parted ways, and said, “We should probably get to class.”

Logan looked around as if just noticing that education was going on around them. “We’ve already missed the first fifteen minutes of class. We might as well miss the rest.”

What kind of logic was that?

Virgil raised a brow. “Are you suggesting that we skip?”

“Not suggesting. Actively doing.”

Virgil snorted. “Alright. But if we just stay in the hallway, someone’s gonna notice.”

Logan considered for a moment, glancing down the hall. “Want to go to the band room? No one should be in there at this time.”

Virgil didn’t question how he knew this, nor did he feel uncomfortable at following Logan to some secluded place in the school. If he had survived seven minutes in heaven with him, Virgil would be fine here too.

“Lead the way.”

The next morning when Virgil arrived to first period, he found his hoodie neatly folded on his desk. In one of the pockets he found a doodle of a bee.

Curiously, the jacket’s material had a smoky aroma to it. Virgil didn’t recognize it as cigarettes. It was something cleaner and more appealing, not unlike incense or sage. Over the next few days, as the smell faded bit by bit and was replaced again with his own, Virgil wondered at the boy he had lent it to and thought many times to approach him. Virgil could use the excuse of returning his doodle, but he kept rethinking that plan. For one, he didn’t know if it was left intentionally or not. And for another . . . he’d grown rather fond of using it as a bookmark. He was hard-pressed to let it go now.

An opportunity never seemed to come, or so Virgil told himself, and the days turned into weeks and then some. Occasionally, he remembered their time skipping class together, the minutes spent talking about things that did and didn’t matter, as well as things they couldn’t understand at all. Virgil could recall the distinct feeling of what resonated between them, as if they were flowing down a river with no end in sight, but that was alright because the current was a gentle one.

It wouldn’t matter if his friends thought him strange for suddenly wanting to hang out with Logan Sanders. They probably would have gotten on with him too, in time.

But Logan never approached Virgil either. Virgil would think about that too sometimes, if the reasons that held Logan back were similar to his own. Because it’s just easier to say, “I’ll try tomorrow, definitely,” until it becomes a lie. And then, eventually, it becomes nothing at all, because there’s more to life and distractions are plentiful.

Virgil completed his high school education and kept on with school. He and his friends were accepted into the best college in the state and it was only natural that when they moved away from home, they all moved in together. They rented a three bedroom townhouse, with Virgil and Patton rooming together (because Dee’s sanity depended on having a safe space of his own and all of them needed a safe space from Roman). The four of them were incredibly different, having varying interests, areas of study, goals for the future, but they made it work.

For years, Virgil forgot about Logan Sanders. He had his college education, his friends, work, a few relationships here and there. The most surprising relationship was between him and Roman. It happened rather suddenly, one night of tension snapping and spanning into other nights. They were exhilarating, pleasurable, but neither knew what they really wanted outside of that and they were left in a limbo that didn’t specify what they were to each other.

And yeah, it made Virgil the fool for putting off confronting things, like he’d done many times just because it was easier. He let things be until he couldn’t run away from the consequences. It’s not like you can ignore life growing inside of you, and there’re only so many positive pregnancy tests you can get before denial can’t protect you anymore.

But Roman . . .

He wouldn’t accept it.

“We can’t be parents. Can’t you just, I don’t know, do something about it?”

This didn’t fit in with Roman’s plans, and it wasn’t as if they were really together, was it?

So Virgil did do something about it. He packed his stuff and went back home to his dad. The most humiliating part of it all was the look his dad gave Virgil. It would have been better if he’d given him the whole, “I knew this would happen,” argument. Instead, his dad simply supported him in his time of need, hugging him and telling him, “I’m here for you, kiddo.”

Virgil didn’t want that. He wanted a fight, to let out all of the pent-up frustration. He wanted to scream, because how could Roman suggest giving up their child, or worse, killing it? How dare he?

But more than that . . . how dare Virgil? How could he have been so careless?

And that’s how he came to be sitting at a bar in his hometown. An untouched margarita sat on the polished wood before him. Part of him hoped the bartender would sense he shouldn’t drink alcohol. Then he could yell at Virgil. Tell him what a disappointment he was. At least then he’d be listening to someone else say it rather than listen to the voice repeating it inside his own head. He wanted to guzzle the drink down, confirm what a horrible person he was by tainting what was inside of him.

“You look like you really don’t want to drink that,” a man said from the barstool beside him.

Virgil shook his head, peering down at the liquid. “No, I’m just . . . getting warmed up for it.”

“Like the artist who does warm-up sketches to put off the true painting?”

“Sure . . .”

“You know, sometimes the warm-ups turn out to be more beautiful than the original intention.”

Was he implying something here? Did someone finally sense that Virgil shouldn’t be here and was admonishing him? He had wanted that, but now it angered him.

Images of Roman’s face flashed in his mind, the strained look he wore when Virgil had gathered the courage to tell him. The gleam of disbelief in his eyes right before it was squashed by unrelenting rejection.

“I’m just twenty-one,” Roman had said, as if Virgil wasn’t too. They were both too young, too in-over-their-heads. But only one of them had the luxury of withdrawing, to not deal with it and favor childish simplicity instead. “Can’t you just, I don’t know, do something about it?”

As if it could be swept under the rug and forgotten.

And in this moment at the bar, just like he had back then with Roman, Virgil turned and asked coldly, “What do you mean?”

Blue eyes stared back at him, much sharper and calmer than Roman’s brown hues ever were.

The other shrugged. “Technically, I was only making an observation on art processes.”

Virgil blinked, his ire sizzling out as he stared hard at the lanky man sitting beside him. He felt like he was missing something important. “Technically?”

“Only technically,” he agreed, nodding, but it was only when he gave a small half-smile that Virgil recognized him.

“Logan?” he asked, not hiding his shock.

“Virgil,” he returned, greeting him naturally like they met up at the bar often.

Of all people, Logan Sanders had found him and was sitting beside him. He honestly hadn’t changed much in neither appearance nor personality. Did Logan think the same about him, or did he look different?

“What are you doing here?” Virgil asked.

Logan jutted a thumb over his shoulder. “My brothers. We come here occasionally.”

Virgil glanced behind them at a table towards the wall where similar looking men sat. All three heads at the table ducked as they found something else to stare at. It was odd, to remember that Logan had brothers but to have thought he would never meet them.

Then again, Virgil didn’t think he would meet Logan Sanders ever again.

“What are you doing here?” Logan repeated Virgil’s question.

He couldn’t help to be defensive. “Why do you want to know?”

Logan’s eyes narrowed minimally, a small sign to show that he’d noticed and was curious. “Fair is fair.”

He wasn’t wrong. He’d answered Virgil first. Wouldn’t he be an ass for refusing to answer him too?

Virgil wanted to be an ass tonight. He wanted to tell people to fuck off and leave him alone.

But this was Logan Sanders and Virgil still used his bee doodle as a bookmark to this day. Something about it all made it impossible to project his anger onto him. In the end, he felt put-out and sulky.

“I don’t know what I’m really doing here,” he admitted. His fingernail grazed lightly down the stem of his glass, his full glass that he knew from the beginning that he wouldn’t really drink. “I guess I just wanted to get away for a while.”

“That sounds like a horrible idea.” Upon receiving an incredulous look from Virgil, he amended, “I meant coming to a bar to get away. If you really want to get away, you should go somewhere with no people. Like a deserted island.”

Virgil snorted, and once he saw how Logan maintained his serious expression and realized he wasn’t joking, he surprised both of them by laughing.

“Are deserted islands really that funny?” Logan asked, genuinely confused.

“No, it’s just that most people can’t really afford to run away to a deserted island.”

“I’m not disputing that. Ideally, that would be the case. But like you said, most people can’t achieve the ideal. So we content ourselves with as close as we can get, or the illusion of it anyway.”

Virgil gazed at him and recalled the feeling of being swept along by a gentle current. It was so refreshing that he asked, “Where do you go then? When you want to get away?”

Logan stood from the barstool. “I could show you if you want.”

Virgil dropped some cash down by his drink to pay his tab and let Logan lead him out of the bar. His brothers watched them go with questioning looks, no doubt wondering where they were going. Virgil wondered where they were going too, and he wanted to voice the question aloud.

But in a weird, undefinable way, he trusted Logan Sanders.

They walked together down poorly lit streets, neither one of them speaking. Occasionally, their arms would brush and the feeling was a comforting one. Along the way, Virgil imagined that Logan would take them back to their old high school and to an empty band room again. Did he remember that afternoon? Did he think back on it fondly?

Did he ever regret not saying anything the next day?

They eventually stopped at an apartment complex. Logan apparently lived there.

“You brought me home?” Virgil asked, more amused that he had actually brought him home than mad about any implications that might have entailed. This was Logan Sanders after all. When playing a game of seven minutes in heaven, he would sit on the floor of a closet talking about jelly rather than make-out.

“You did ask me where I went to get away,” he said. They stood shoulder to shoulder, both of them looking up at the building, pondering it. “It’s a place that’s changed over the years, but ever since I moved out from my family’s home, my apartment is my safe haven because it’s just me here. I don’t have to worry about how people see me.”

Then he welcomed Virgil inside. It was a cramped, one-bedroom apartment with a lot of clashing furniture and decorations. Parts of it would be incredibly minimalistic while others were filled with clutter. Virgil examined the tapestry in the living room, a design of a tree with swirling branches in shades of gold, black, and red. Logan told him it was the tree of life, a design derived from a historic royal palace. From peeking at the overflowing bookshelves, Logan had a large interest in history and mythology.

They made their way to the bedroom and found themselves laying on the bed. Both of them stretched out on their backs, staring up at the ceiling as if there were stars there.

For hours they talked. Logan contributed the most to the conversation. He had a lot of thoughts built up, plenty of things to say now that he had someone to listen. And Virgil, he appreciated having something new to think about. He didn’t mind listening to a different point of view. In fact, he wanted to hear what Logan had to say about one matter in particular.

“Logan, you know how you said you like being here because you don’t have to worry about how people see you?”

“Yes. What about it?”

“What about how you see yourself?”

Logan was quiet for a time. For several minutes, Virgil could only sense his even breathing. He wanted to turn his head, to see if those blue eyes were closed and if he had fallen asleep. But Virgil’s eyes were fixated on the popcorn ceiling. His own breath quieted as much as possible, too afraid to miss the answer.

“You have to live with yourself,” Logan said at length. “You don’t have to live with anyone else, but you do have to live with yourself.”

You just have to deal with it. That’s what he was getting at.

It wasn’t that reassuring or alarming. It was simply a fact, what was to be expected.

They fell asleep like that. The next morning, Virgil woke before Logan. He had curled up into Virgil’s side, not exactly on him but more pressing against him, his face nuzzled into his shoulder. He frowned in his sleep, like he dreamt of puzzles with missing pieces that wouldn’t let him fully rest.

Virgil left a note for him before he let himself out. He was grateful to Logan, but there were things that he needed to do.

He had to live with himself. But it was up to him whether or not he was the kind of person he liked to live with. And right now, he wasn’t.

But he would be.

It was a hard journey, accepting himself and what had happened and—most importantly—how to deal with the aftermath. His father had given him time to work the stress out. He grieved for friends he thought he could trust. He shook in fear at this new unstable future. And although it hurt, he picked himself up and forged ahead, if not for himself than for his child.

The first thing Virgil did was transfer to a closer university. If he was to keep the baby, he’d need to swallow his pride and accept all the support his dad offered. It would be more practical living here, allowing him to raise his child in a good environment while also continuing his education.

The second thing Virgil decided was to cut ties from his friends. They were Roman’s friends too, and with how Virgil left with no explanation to the others, Roman had probably given them his side of the story without any consideration for him. They were probably on Roman’s side, and with his words still flashing through Virgil’s mind from that day, Virgil wouldn’t allow himself to be hurt like that again.

As could be expected, his friends tried calling him a lot. Roman did too. Whatever his reasons, Virgil couldn’t care less and blocked his number in vindictive satisfaction. If he wanted to make amends and actually be there for the baby, then he could put in the effort to come see Virgil in person. It’s not like Roman didn’t know where he had gone.

Surprisingly enough, someone did put in the effort to come check on him, but it sure as hell wasn’t Roman. It was early June and Virgil was six months pregnant when he opened the front door to find Dee. Of all his friends, he would have thought Patton or even Emile would be the one to come around, not Dee. He stood there uncomfortably, shoulders hunched, hands stuffed in his pants’ pockets. His eyes immediately zeroed in on Virgil’s round stomach.

“It’s Roman’s, isn’t it?” he blurted.

Virgil was so shocked that all he could do was stand there with his mouth open, struggling to say something. Dee seemed mildly alarmed, though whether that was at himself or seeing Virgil pregnant, he couldn’t tell. He averted his gaze to a bush beside him. His ears reddened.

“Sorry,” Dee said. “It’s just—well, I guess it all makes sense.”

“What?” Virgil asked, finally finding his voice.

“Why you and Roman got into that big fight. Why you left. He said you were ditching us, but it’s his, isn’t it?”

Virgil should have expected things to go like that, for Roman to leave out the problem altogether and blame Virgil. If Roman just ignored the existence of a baby he helped create, he wouldn’t have to worry about it, right? And if he didn’t tell their friends about it, then it was like it didn’t even exist.

And here Dee was on his doorstep, telling him that Roman had made him out to be the bad guy. Because if Roman couldn’t be the hero, he’d make do with being a victim.

It pissed Virgil off.

“What are you doing here?” he asked through gritted teeth. If not to tear the scab off of a wound that hadn’t fully healed, had Dee come for curiosity’s sake?

Dee fidgeted, crossing his arms and grumbling, “You didn’t come back, and you didn’t answer any of my texts or calls. It wasn’t like I was worried or anything.”

Just like that the anger dissipated and Virgil was crying. It caught him off guard, the swell of emotion, but not as much as it did Dee. His eyes were wide as saucers and he held his hands up as if to ward off the tears. He started stammering in a frantic rush.

“I was only stopping by to check on you. But if it upsets you that much, I’ll just go—”

Dee tried to turn to leave, but Virgil caught him by the wrist and pulled him in for a hug. Neither of them had been outwardly affectionate people, and the hug was made even more awkward by Virgil’s pregnant belly and the fact that he was crying all over Dee. He squirmed, freaking out.

“Do you want me to leave or stay? Which is it?!” he yelled in distress.

“Stay,” Virgil croaked out.

He had decided to cut off ties from his friends, but Dee had done what even Roman couldn’t be bothered to. He showed Virgil that he cared about him, and that was all he had wanted. That’s all he had wanted from Roman, to see some sign that he . . .

But he wasn’t going to show up. Somewhere deep in his heart, Virgil had hoped he would. Unconsciously, he’d been waiting for him.

It seemed he still had a ways to go.

Following that day, Virgil’s resolve deepened. Dee stayed for a while, and they talked things out and caught up. He’d been skeptical of Roman’s excuses, and his behavior as of late had become unbearably obnoxious. Dee moved out at the end of the Spring semester and now lived with his older sister just one town over. He’d be finishing out his education at a college there.

Virgil let Dee back into his life and found how much he had missed having friends. Since moving back in with his dad, any old friends from his high school days that he happened to run into didn’t get much past the, “Hey, how’ve you been?” pleasantries. That or gossiping about his pregnancy and getting his pronouns wrong.

There’d been Logan Sanders too, of course. They hadn’t exchanged numbers, but Virgil knew where he lived. He could have swung by his apartment at any time. Logan wouldn’t have turned him away, Virgil knew that. And he would have liked to talk to Logan, just like last time, and hear the calm tone of his voice as he enlightened Virgil with his eccentric considerations and pragmatic perspective.

What stopped Virgil was the note he had left him.

‘I want to be the kind of person I want to live with.’

You had to live with yourself. That was the lesson that Logan taught him.

And if he couldn’t be happy with himself, he would at least find contentment somewhere. He burned the notion into his head: the next time he saw Logan, he would have it all sorted out.

Months became years. Virgil gave birth to a baby boy and juggled family, friends, and college. After graduating, he convinced Dee to give living together another shot. They worked well together, and his son was already learning to call him uncle. Dee would play it off with a frown, but secretly Virgil knew that it warmed him.

One day, not long after his son’s fourth birthday, Virgil picked him up from school. Almost immediately after getting in the car, the child dozed off in the backseat. Virgil smiled at that, peeking glances at his little boy in the rearview mirror.

On the way, Virgil spotted a car pulled over on the side of the road. A man stood towards the back, looking over where one of the tires had blown out.

He almost didn’t stop. It wasn’t his problem, and if the guy couldn’t figure out how to change a tire, then he could call for someone to help him, right?

But the way his head hung low, and his shoulders hunched high, like he’d given up . . .

Maybe Virgil was reading too much into things, applying sentimental crap where he shouldn’t, but the point was that Virgil’s heart clenched and his foot eased on the brake pedal. He pulled over, a bit ahead of the man’s car.

He got out, closing his door as quietly as he could. Virgil wasn’t nervous about approaching the stranger. Okay, he was always nervous, but it was daylight, and the road wasn’t exactly abandoned. Plenty of vehicles came through this neighborhood. How many had passed though while the man had been stranded here? How many had labeled him as someone else’s problem?

Stupid bystander effect.

Virgil’s shoes clopped down the shoulder of the road. The man of course had noticed him pull over and watched him the whole walk over with a curious expression. He was tall, lanky as ever, hair brushed back and prickly cheeks in need of a shave, but Virgil recognized him right away.

“Logan?” he asked, hardly believing his luck.

Logan leaned back slightly, blinking at him like he had seen a ghost.

Virgil worried for a moment. “You . . . remember me, right?”

He looked him over and nodded slowly. “Virgil.”

Virgil managed a relieved smile. “Small world, eh?”

He shrugged. “We live in the same town. We were bound to run into each other sooner or later.”

Always so literal. Virgil shook his head and crossed his arms, leaning his shoulder into the side of his car. “Actually, I don’t live here anymore. I live over in Arcadia now. We were just on our way to go visit my dad.”

Logan tilted his head. “We?”

Virgil recalled that night Logan had invited him back to his apartment. He’d been pregnant with a boat load of problems weighing him down, and he’d held back from telling Logan about any one of them specifically.

Virgil glanced back over his shoulder. Suddenly he felt like being more open with him.

“C’mere,” Virgil said, waving him forward. “I want to show you something.”

It was a surreal experience, seeing Logan again after so many years and finding him here of all places. It was strange, sensing him trailing behind him, inquisitive as ever. Virgil stopped by the window, and they both looked in to see the sleeping face.

Before Logan could question him, he answered, “His name’s Thomas.”

There was a long silence where Virgil let the implication sink in. He watched the slight reflection of Logan’s face in the glass, the way his brows were furrowed deep in thought.

“I always thought that you would be a parent,” he confessed randomly. Virgil could have pointed out that lots of people were parents and that it wasn’t an unlikely hypothesis for him to have about Virgil, but it was the fact that Logan must have thought about this subject at length during some point of knowing him, and it tickled Virgil in a peculiar way. He laughed. Logan just looked at him questioningly.

“You know, I always planned to come by and see you again,” Virgil admitted. If Logan was confessing random thoughts, he might as well too. “I really wanted to.”

Logan shifted his stance. Virgil would say that he looked uncomfortable, but it was more like he never expected Virgil to say something like that and simply didn’t know what to do with the information. He settled for the obvious, logical approach. “Why didn’t you?”

Virgil stared out at the passing cars, up at the cloud covered sky. A chill wind picked up and brushed his bangs against his face, reminding him that winter was around the corner.

“Because I wanted to be a different person when we met. A better person. Someone who had a handle on his life. Someone I could be proud of.”

“And do you?” he asked, his eyes boring into Virgil’s. “Do you have a handle on your life now?”

It wasn’t an easy thing to answer, but if nothing else, Virgil had always been honest to him. “Sometimes I think so.”

Logan’s hands were hidden in the pockets of his jacket. It struck Virgil how much older he looked, and he wondered if he saw Virgil the same way or if he had aged by his view.

“We don’t ever have control of our lives. Not really,” Logan said. “You wanted to wait to see me until you were a different person? If that were possible, I’d say that was incredibly . . . sad.”

Virgil’s stomach plummeted for a brief moment at the thought that Logan—Logan Sanders—would make fun of his efforts.

He must have seen the hurt on Virgil’s face. One of his hands reached out, to touch his face or shoulder or something, but he was an awkward kind of person, like Dee, and so he lowered that hand again.

“I don’t know why you would want that.” His voice was soft, frustration edging along the lines of his words.

Virgil’s nails dug into his palms. “You don’t have to know. I don’t need yours or anyone else’s approval. If I want to change, that’s my choice.”

“You’re upset,” Logan pointed out needlessly. He shook his head. “You misunderstand. I meant if you were a different person, then you’d be gone, and that would be sad. I like who you are.”

“Oh.”

So he hadn’t been insulting him. He was still just really bad at socializing.

Virgil scratched his cheek, embarrassed. “Well then, what was all that about people not having control over their lives? You made it sound like the work I put in to better myself was pointless.”

“Not pointless. You can’t become someone else. You can only be a better you.”

“That’s what I guess I was going for then. I understand that.”

“Do you really believe then that you have a lot of choice in life?”

They were doing it again, like they tended to do. Diving in deep headfirst and getting lost in the stream of conversation.

Virgil scuffed his shoes against the asphalt, mulling over his question. “I didn’t peg you for the ‘fate believer’ type.”

“I’m not. I think people have a degree of control over where they end up. But sometimes, no matter how prepared you are . . .”

“Shit just happens?”

His lips twitched up. “I was going to say that things beyond our control interfere, but yes, your way of saying it sums it up too.”

“Things like a tire blowing out?” Virgil asked, gesturing to Logan’s crippled car.

“Among other things,” he agreed. There was more to it lingering underneath that statement. How had his life been since Virgil last saw him?

“You know how to change a tire?” he asked. If he didn’t, Virgil could offer to do it for him and that would give him a chance to talk more with him. It wouldn’t take too long, and Thomas would nap the whole time anyway.

Logan shook his head. “In theory, but I lack the tools to do so. My brother is on his way. He should be here in a few minutes.”

Guess that plan was out the window then. Virgil struggled to think of something else, a segue back into the topic he wanted. If there was something going on with Logan, he would like to help him.

“Virgil,” he spoke, breaking him from his fumbling thoughts. “I like to be in control of myself.”

“. . . yeah?”

“But as I’ve said, I don’t think we truly have control over our lives.”

“To some degree.”

“To some degree, technically, but all the same, when it comes down to it, shit just happens, as you said.”

“Right.”

“And I think that . . .” Logan paused, tapping a finger to his lips as he came to his conclusion. “I think that’s one of the hardest things a person must accept.”

Virgil thought on it long and hard, trying to see what he was getting at. In the end, Virgil nudged his shoulder with his. “It doesn’t mean that good things don’t happen that’s out of our control. Just look at Thomas. I thought my life was over when I got pregnant with him. I thought I lost pretty much everything. And I used to be so . . . angry . . . about it.”

There were times when he didn’t think he could make it through, when the safer corners of his mind reached out to him and told him to give it all up. If Roman could throw away responsibility, then so could Virgil. It was his life to do with as he pleased.

But it wouldn’t have been a very proud life, one that he could live with himself in, and that made all the difference.

“But when life throws you a curveball, you throw it right back.” Virgil smiled at Logan’s expression. “It’s something my dad says. It’s lame, but he’s kinda right. Things used to suck, but I’m glad I pushed through. I love Thomas and I love being a parent.”

“What if the metaphorical ball hits you hard?” Logan asked seriously.

Virgil leaned forward and smiled wider. “Then throw the ball back even harder.”

A truck pulled up behind Logan’s car and a tall red-headed man stepped out. He exchanged greetings with them, and though he put on a polite enough face for Virgil’s sake, he could tell that he was put out by his little brother.

As he dutifully left to change the car tire, the two of them watching him go as they stood side by side, Logan whispered to him, “I think he’s annoyed with me.”

“He still came,” Virgil pointed out. “That’s the important part.”

Logan eased at that. He turned to face Virgil fully, hands back in their pockets. “Thank you for stopping, but I don’t want to hold you up. I know you had somewhere to go.”

“It wasn’t any trouble,” Virgil said, though he did glance at Thomas’s sleeping face and consider that they should be heading on soon. “And it’s not like I actually helped.”

“You helped,” Logan denied firmly, meaning something entirely different.

For a few seconds, the atmosphere between them grew heavy. Lots of things were unspoken between them, lots of chances lay ready for the taking. But Logan’s shoulders weren’t hunched anymore and his eyes were brighter than ever.

“I guess I’ll be going then,” Virgil said, moving to take his leave.

Logan nodded, backing away slowly as he watched Virgil round the car to the driver’s side. His hand grazed the handle. It’d be easy to pull it open and forget about the niggling in the back of his mind. To hop in and not look back.

He looked back at Logan. He was still watching him, as if he’d been ready for Virgil to call back to him.

“Hey Logan?” he called.

“Yes?”

Virgil bit his lip, gaze searching him in an effort to etch the memory into permanence. Logan waited for him, patient as always.

“Back in first grade,” he started, “the first time you spoke to me, you told me that my color was purple. Do you remember that?”

“I do,” he said, surprising Virgil that he would remember that long-ago, seemingly unimportant experience.

“What did you mean by that?”

Logan stared into the middle distance, head gradually moving from left to right. “I have no idea.”

Virgil opened the door and slid inside. All the way to his dad’s house, he had to stifle his laughter.

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