#they both get drunk together over it while ben rolls his eyes in the background

[in-tua-deep]

Hey. I’m not feeling the best right now. Can w I get some Ben and Five headcannons?

oh no !! I hope you feel better soon :(

Five and Ben were pretty close when they were younger which means that Five knows that Ben was a little shit

He might have the likes of Diego and Luther fooled but Five absolutely knows. He knows how much Ben could actually shit talk. He knows that Ben was not an innocent

Whenever Five irritated Ben too much, Ben would frame him for something. Sometimes this would manifest in an academy wide prank war which would inevitably end up in punishments from Reginald that everyone would blame Five for. Five. And no one would would ever believe him that sweet, quiet, wonderful Ben would start this sort of shit

Five fucking knows okay

However Ben was also like, the only intelligent conversation that Five ever actually had on the team so like, it’s not like he can just drop Ben (even though he knows what he did) because who else is he supposed to share looks with over Luther’s boneheaded plans with? Allison? As if Allison would ever admit Luther was being an absolute idiot

They had the silent understanding that Ben could be as much of a sarcastic shit as he wanted and in return Ben would let Five rant about temporal physics and complex mathematics and actually ask intelligent questions which occasionally led to breakthroughs

“It’s not my fault you can’t hide your own assholeness.” Ben informs Five with a straight face after Luther yelled at Five for three hours after Five rightfully informed their number one that it was actually Ben not Five who put dye on his toothbrush that turned his teeth green

Five mouths ‘I am going to destroy you’ to Ben across the breakfast table and Ben just serenely asks Klaus if he finished the math homework for their lessons today like Five doesn’t even exist

Five is twelve when he realizes that Ben is actually the devil

But actually he really admires it

Even if the way he realizes it is because Ben turns big eyes on Diego and says that Five was being mean to him, which almost gets Five a knife in the arm

(Five returns Ben’s stupid book of octopus facts, he didn’t even want the stupid thing he just stole it to get back at Ben for stealing his good umbrella jacket... yes he can tell shut the fuck up allison)

“I’m going to time travel.” “No you aren’t.” “You want to bet?” “Five. Five. We have been going over the equations for literal weeks. Did you even figure out the prime issue?” “Shut your mouth.” “Knew it.”

And Five does time travel and his second thought after “What the fuck” is “fucking Ben was right and can never know”

okay admittedly there’s a lot of apocalypse trauma and he finds the bodies of his siblings and then finds out that Ben died young and he’s just. there’s a lot going on okay

and then he travels back and ben is still dead and he’s kind of like... he can’t not save Ben but he’s got to make sure there’s a future or whatever to go to when he travels back in time and snags his brother up or whatever

except then Klaus summons Ben and well

“You asshole!” Five howls, pointing accusingly

Klaus is vindicated

“You can’t talk like that to Ben.” Diego says firmly, as though the time all of his knives were superglued to his harness wasn’t all Ben’s fault. As though that time wasn’t blamed on Five. 

“No, no, let him speak.” Klaus says, like a man who has been forced to be the only recipient of Ben’s sarcasm and sass for a great number of years.

Ben has been dead and invisible for a long time and no longer gives a single solitary fuck about what his family thinks of him tbh, and with Klaus clean(er) and a lowkey grudge against Luther (because come on Luther, Ben was rooting for you we were all rooting for you)

So Ben has no problem being like “YES. ‘TWAS I WHO GLUED LUTHER’S HAND TO HIS HAIR AND FRAMED DIEGO FOR TIPPING OVER OUR 8TH BIRTHDAY CAKE.”

“How did none of you ever notice that I ‘acted out’ whenever one of y’all ended up peer pressuring Ben into using his powers.” Five grits out, because his family is filled with fucking idiots.

“In fairness,” Ben says with his arms crossed and a frankly unimpressed look on his face, “I also did it whenever you were being especially asshole-ish. Which was with great frequency.”

“I’m going to murder you in your sleep.” Five hisses.

“Missed that opportunity by a large margin, baby bro.” 

and then Five screams with all his feral rage and tries to attack Ben because he isn’t often corporeal and he doesn’t want to miss the chance

Except Ben catches him in a hug and Five just freezes like a kitten who gets put in a cat harness for the first time and it’s great

“Oh my god I’m just now realizing why Ben and Five got along so well.”  - says every siblings with a braincell who has the sense to fear a Five and Ben team up

The first time that Five manages to frame Ben for something feels like fucking vindication

vindication, Ben

#ask me #ben is a little shit who became a larger shit #five was framed half his childhood and no one ever believed him #but also ben was the only intelligent conversation so... #ben talked a lot of shit as a child #in return for listening five demanded intelligent conversation #and to be fair five did pick on ben back #it's only he got in trouble for it #sometimes it was totally worth it though #he might have gotten extra training and dirty looks for a week and a bathroom in the house destroyed #but five personally thought it was justice and it was just a plastic spider anyway *jeeze* #five hollering: BEN IS A SHIT #diego: HOW DARE YOU BEN IS AN ABSOLUTE ANGEL #luther: he doesn't even do anything just reads #five: i'm going to go feRAL #ben: lol no i'm actually totally a shit #klaus: VINDI-FUCKING-CATION #klaus finally has someone to complain at about ben #five finally has someone who believes him #they both get drunk together over it while ben rolls his eyes in the background #sorry there are no real soft headcanons #only siblings being shits to each other #fivehargreeves05

[chudleycanonficfest]

Air

Our first story on Day 1 comes to you by @zurisenchantedquill !

Title: Air Author/Artist: zurimadison Pairing: Romione, side Hinny Prompt: Rock Concert Rating: Teen, borderline Mature? Trigger Warning(s) (if any): bit of snogging :)

Full disclosure, I was inspired by the song "Stay Next to Me" by Quinn XCII and Chelsea Cutler

______

Ron

“You have ten minutes,” Ginny says, smacking her gum as she stares at me. “Harry will be here soon.”

I don’t move from my seat on the couch. “So let me get this straight, not only are you forcing me into going to this concert tonight, but you also invited your boyfriend to my flat?”

“You like Harry.” She checks her phone. “Nine minutes.”

I do like Harry, but I’m not going to admit that to her right now. I try a change of tactics. “I had plans tonight, Gin. You can’t just show up unannounced and expect me to drop everything to go out with you.”

“Laundry is not a plan, Ron,” she says, texting furiously as she plops on the other end of the couch. “Mum says I need to get you out of the house because you’ve been moping since your breakup, and I knew that if I gave you warning, you’d find an excuse to bail.”

I can’t help but wince, reminded of both the recent end to my relationship and the correct assumption that I’m hiding away because of it. “I just need some me-time right now.”

She looks at me, cheek lit by her phone screen, and smirks. “Eight minutes.”

Whoever said Weasleys are pushovers has never met my little sister.

Actually, probably no one has ever said that.

I sigh and stand, making my way to my bedroom to change.

“Comb your hair or something, while you’re at it,” she calls. “You look a mess.”

“Thanks Gin,” I yell back, but then I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Sheesh, she wasn’t kidding. 

Seven minutes later, dressed and groomed enough to be presentable, I set off down the road with my sister and her boyfriend. 

“Go on then, who are we seeing tonight?”

“The Black Keys,” Harry answers, grinning. “I’ve been dying to see them for ages.”

I’ve never heard of them before, so I ask, “what kind of music is that? Rock?”

“Technically, more Indie Rock,” Ginny answers, and I can’t stop the small snort that escapes me. She shoots a glare that very clearly warns me not to take the mickey, so I hold my arms up defensively and clear my throat.

“Oh, sounds...erm, fun.” It’s lame, but Harry nods and starts rambling about his favorite songs. For all my trouble, Ginny graces me with an approving quirk of her eyebrow. Thanks Sis. 

The venue is close to my flat, so it isn’t long before we’re through the doors, pushing our way into the crowd. 

It feels like even less time before Ginny is snogging Harry, their bodies swaying in time to the music as her drink slops unnoticed on their shoes. They break apart every now and then to sing a lyric or two, then they’re right back at it.

I try to ignore it as I down my beer, but the venue is so congested that I’m constantly jostled into them. Not that they even seem to notice, mind you, but as much as I don’t care what Ginny does on her own time, it’s another thing entirely to literally have it shoved into my face. 

My bottle is devastatingly empty, so I mutter an excuse and snake away through the crowd, not finding it at all dispersed as I move further from the stage. I spot a bar in the back corner and fight my way over to it, feeling like a hero returning home after battle when I’m able to place my order with the bartender. 

It happens as I’m waiting for my beer. I glance down the length of the bar, more out of idleness than anything else, and I see her. 

She’s got dark curly hair that’s highlighted with honey, a red strapless dress that could bring a man to his knees, and, unless I’m much mistaken, she’s holding a book in one of her hands as she leans across the bar to be heard above the music.

I am struck with the impulse to know the color of her eyes. 

She seems to be alone, and is the only person in the venue actually sitting on a stool. I’m not altogether surprised when, after receiving her drink, she opens her book. She’s so absorbed in her reading that she doesn't notice the people bustling around her. She doesn’t even look up when the bartender hands a drink to someone over her head. 

It takes me two more beers, alone in the corner, watching this woman who has such impressive focus, before I work up my nerve. There’s a small opening in the crowd, so I decide it's now or never and throw myself through it. I slip to her side and deliver the almighty line that I’d been working on for nearly twenty minutes.

“Whatcha reading?”

I honestly expect her to ignore me or maybe genuinely not hear me, but to my surprise, she looks right at me. 

Brown. Her eyes are chestnut brown, with a dark ring around the outside. They appraise me before the corners of her round lips turn upwards almost imperceptibly. “Treasure Island.” She has to shout to be heard above the music.

“No way,” I exclaim, bemused. “That’s one of the few books I’ve actually read! Isn’t it crazy that Ben had the treasure the whole time?”

“He what?” Her eyes go wide as she gazes at me, slack jawed. “Seriously?”

“Wait, you didn’t know?” I ask, clapping a hand over my mouth. “I’m so sorry, I thought-”

“Just kidding,” she interrupts me, then begins to giggle at what I can only assume is my idiotic expression. “I’ve read this a million times.”

Her laugh is infectious, and I silently swear to make her do as much of it as I can. I lean against my forearm on the bar and turn sideways so I can view her better. Something about the way she’s looking up at me makes me feel brave. “What’s your name?” 

“Hermione.”

“Ron.” I extend my hand. She slips her tiny palm into mine. I shake it, but then I don’t let go. 

A drunk patron knocks into me, pushing me closer to her. I can almost see down her dress, I’m standing so close. “It’s too crowded in here,” she shouts as she glances over her shoulder. “So many random bodies pressed together.”

“We should go somewhere.” I’m not sure what’s gotten into me, but I don’t mind it when she rewards me with a tiny smile.

“Where? Outside?”

“I don’t care,” I say. “Your choice. I’ll follow you.”

She surveys me, looking as though she’s deciding. “Aren’t you going to miss the show?” 

“No,” I laugh. “I don’t know this band at all.”

“Me neither,” she admits. She’s nearly knocked off her stool by a surge of the crowd around us, and this seems to seal the deal. “Ok, let’s go.” She stands and winds through the crowd, never releasing my hand. 

_____

Hermione

I lead my tall, red headed stranger to the back patio, feeling instant relief in the cool night air as we step over the threshold. The music is much less loud out here, and it’s not as crowded. I drop his hand as I perch myself on the patio railing, sighing in contentment as my overstimulated senses are satisfied by the calming change in environment.

Ron flags a server for us, so I take the opportunity to examine him while he orders. He’s broad in the shoulders but narrow in the hips, though the shape is flattering in the way his t-shirt pulls across his chest. From underneath the material on his left arm, a full sleeve of tattoos runs enticingly to his wrist, leaving me with a burning desire to see the obscured designs. 

Tattooed and bearded. Just how I like 'em.

The server leaves and he turns his gaze back to me, reminding me of the thing so far that I like the most about him.

His eyes.

They’re almost turquoise-y blue, and seem to ripple like water. That alone would be sexy enough, but there’s something about the way they make me feel. They’re...kind.

He leans his back against the railing where I’m sitting, close enough that my leg is brushing his arm. “So, did you come to this show tonight because you like a little background music while you read?” 

I laugh. “No, my friends dragged me here with them, but I lost track of them pretty much the moment we arrived. Hence, this.” I hold up my book. “What about you? You said you don’t know the band either.”

“Nah,” he agrees. “I was also forced to come out tonight. But, I don’t fancy watching my sister snog her boyfriend all evening so…” He shrugs. His hair moves gently in the night breeze.

“Well look at us,” I say. “A couple of third wheels.”

The server comes back with the drinks: two shots of whiskey and two beers. I thank him as I take mine, and Ron raises his shot glass.

“Left your boyfriend at home, then?” He’s holding the whiskey expectantly, smirking while he waits for my answer.

I roll my eyes. “Very subtle.”

“Oh, you saw what I did there?”

“I did, believe it or not.” I hold my whiskey out as well. “To being single?”

It’s phrased as a question, and there’s a triumphant sparkle in his eye as he clicks his glass against mine. “To being single.”

“Cheers.” We throw back the shot. The alcohol hums just under my skin.

Ron doesn’t return to his previous position, but instead stands in front of me so that his stomach is against my knees. He places his free hand on the outside of my bare thigh, sending tingles down my spine. He meets my eye for a moment, as though asking if I mind, and in response I lean forward and place my free hand on his chest. 

The full, lopsided smile I receive in return is worth it.

“What do you do for a living, Hermione?” His voice is gravelly now.

“I’m in microbiology,” I answer. “I work in a lab.”

“Wow,” he lets out a low whistle. “Smart and beautiful.”

I laugh again. “What about you?”

“I’m a nurse,” he says, puffing out his chest. “I work in the ICU.”

Somehow I understand the kindness in his eyes even more. I’m so distracted by looking into them that I accidentally spill some beer all over my lap. “Oh no, I’m sorry!”

“Watch yourself,” he says, laughing as he grabs a napkin and dabs off my legs. “Why is your drink so full anyway?” 

“Yours is just as full,” I argue, offering my beer as evidence.

He looks between our two glasses and shrugs. “Maybe, but I can drink faster, so it doesn’t count.”

“How do you know that?” I demand, holding the beer up now as a challenge. “Chugging contest?”

His grin is evil and beautiful. “You’re on.”

“Three, two…” We both begin to drink as quickly as we can, though it becomes apparent to me that I’m quite outclassed. His Adam’s apple bobs distractingly and I reach out, tracing my finger down it before I can stop myself.

I freeze, my hand again on his chest, fingers grazing the skin above his neckline. When I meet his eye, he puts his glass on the railing and steps between my legs, wrapping his arms around me to bury his hands in my hair as he pulls me in for a kiss.

The way he feels is so distracting that I drop my own glass, still half full, on the outside of the patio, where it spills in the grass. I’m sure we could get kicked out of the venue for that, but right now I don’t care. I kiss my new friend Ron for all I’m worth. He tastes like whiskey and every flick of his talented tongue ignites tiny fires all over my body. 

We snog for I don’t know how long, until we’re forced to come up for air. He doesn’t step away from me, but keeps his face close to mine as we pant. 

“I can’t waste another second here, can you?” His whisper tickles my cheek.

I run the analysis, weighing my options even as my head spins from the snog. I grip his arms tighter. “We should go somewhere.”

His lopsided smile takes my breath away.

#chudleycanonficfest #chudley canon fest #hp canon pairings #hp canon romantic pairings #romione #side hinny #source: zurisenchantedquill

[annie-mit-ie]

Glimpses: Part 14a (Kathryn Hahn x Fem!Reader)

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

Part 1 // previous chapter <<< >>> next chapter

Summary: The cast goes out for dinner.

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: Well hello there again! I was scheduled for work today but my shift got cancelled, so I had some time to go on with the story. Today's story doesn't begin with a gif - but it ends with one. Additionally, I am very anxious for everyone's reaction. Please don't kill me. xxx A.

Tag List: @danvers97 @zafirosreverie @srtamercurio @wanatag @pulledbythestars17 @plantowl @spacehahn @sarahp-stan @agentbrownierso @our-blood-is-our-ink

Playlist! :)

_____________________________________________________________________________

On set has always been Kathryn’s favorite place to be. Ever since she can think, she wanted to be an actress. It’s overwhelming sometimes, that’s for sure. But watching the movies at the end, after the projects are done, is the most rewarding thing to her. 

It’s Wednesday afternoon, today was a short day because the director scheduled some night shootings at the beginning of the week and promised to give everyone off earlier on Wednesday so the cast could go out for dinner. That’s why Kathryn is sitting in her Trailer with manager Jennifer and assistant Agnes (Ben is already off for the day) as they enjoy a cup of coffee as they chat about the upcoming weeks.

Kathryn is sprawled out on the couch, propping her feet up on Jennifer’s lap who doesn’t mind to have a little less personal space. Jennifer is studying the week’s schedule on her iPad as Kathryn stares at the ceiling. 

“Do you know what you want to wear to dinner today?” Kathryn props her head up to look at Jennifer and tries to find a quick answer.

She hates questions about outfits because usually she just throws on a blazer to whatever shirt she is wearing that day and calls is a day. As if anyone cares what she is wearing. Also, with no social media she wouldn’t notice bad press anyway.

Realizing Kathryn hasn’t thought of it yet, Agnes gets up and walks towards her wardrobe. Kathryn’s eyes follow her.

“Thank you, Aggie, just a black blazer would be great. Did I bring one? I’ll just wear it with the shirt I’m wearing. No fuzz and all.” Kathryn says apologetically. She feels bad for not getting up and arranging her clothes herself, but she is completely exhausted and can’t find the strength to get up just yet.

The three woman chat for a little longer before Kathryn sits down to reapply her makeup and fix her hair. There’s a knock on the door. Once again, Agnes is the one who gets up to open it as Jennifer is on a call with a magazine who wants to interview Kathryn soon.

“Hello! Can I he-“ The redhead nearly falls out of the trailer as she is faced with one of Kathryn’s co stars. The actor smiles at her softly, offering a hand to steady her.

“Is Kathryn here?” He asks in a raspy, low voice and peeks his head into the trailer. Kathryn, who has turned around from where she is seated, makes eye contact with him and offers a slow wave to say hello.

“K! We’re slowly but surely getting ready to leave and I thought I’d give you a heads up and maybe even take you with me already.” Hearing this nickname from anyone but you makes Kathryn feel very uneasy and her whole inside flinches as she realizes that, if she doesn’t speak up about it, he will continue using it. But at the same time: what is she supposed to say? She can’t just call him out for something like that because that could make her seem extremely unfriendly right away.

Realizing an answer is long overdue, she nods and checks herself in the mirror. “Can I get… like 10 more minutes, Jeff? I’ll come find you immediately.”

He shoots her a bright smile “Don’t worry! Let’s make it 15 and I’ll pick you up again.” And with that he leaves the trailer again.

Jennifer, who ended the call just a moment ago, looks up from the tablet to grin at Kathryn. “What a gentleman.” She winks.

“Treating you just the way you deserve to be treated.” Agnes also winks at her and Kathryn wishes she could just slap both of them. Lovingly, obviously.

Jennifer gets her attention back. “So…. Are you gonna go with him?”

“IS IT GONNA BE A DATE?” The younger woman jumps in excitedly.

Kathryn turns around to actually face her two closest people again without a mirror being the transmitting point. “Guys, you know I’ve been spending time with Y/N. That would be extremely unfair to her. I couldn’t.”

Agnes starts nodding as Jennifer takes her attention off the tablet for a moment and fully faces Kathryn. “I know, but let’s face it. She is much younger than you, doesn’t know a thing about the business and she won’t be here for a long long time. And of she would be here then press would go absolutely wild and you know that!”

“But… she makes me happy.” Kathryn won’t let her manager talk for herself and over her feelings like that and smiles as she sees her assistant nod behind Jennifer’s back over the remark.

“Might be, but still. My point stands. As your manager I have to tell you that both could be an extreme distraction, but at least he is here and you don’t have to stay up extremely late to communicate.” Jennifer looks back at her tablet, where she furiously starts typing. “Also. He has a very clean record and seems genuinely nice.”

“Let’s put on the red lipstick you brought, Kathryn! I’ll help you.” Agnes smiles and gets up from where she is seated to step closer to Kathryn, pushing her red hair behind her ears.

As they look at each other in the mirror and Kathryn’s eyes meet hers, she realizes how emotional her boss seems to be over the whole situation. Realizing Agnes is about to make another remark, Kathryn slightly shakes her head as she keeps intense eye contact and reaches for the lipstick to distract herself.

Just a moment later, Jeffrey knocks on the door again.

“There she is!” He exclaims, reaching for Kathryn’s hand who is about to step out of the trailer. “The most beautiful woman on set.”

She blushes and slaps his arm that is intertwined with hers all while jokingly rolling her eyes. “Oh shush.” She laughs.

“Just spilling some facts. Let’s go, I’ll drive. The others left just a moment ago and I offered to bring you.”

It’s a short drive and the two hold a casual conversation about previous projects and the mood is good. He seems to actually be quiet the gentleman as he immediately walks around the car and opens the door for her to get out. It’s just now becomes clear that it wasn’t a smart idea to leave later than the others.

Word must have spread and paparazzi and a handful of fans are building a crowd in front of the restaurant. For aesthetic reasons, the restaurant’s entrance is made out to look like a red carpet - the perfect opportunity to shoot some pictures of the stars.

The whole cast is still outside, waiting for Jeff and Kathryn all while handing out autographs. Paparazzi line up to get the perfect shot of the whole cast. Someone from the restaurant seems to be outside already to organize and manage the situation and give the cast some space. He talks the paparazzi down to take a single picture of all of them together.

Kathryn gets seemingly uneasy. She never really does a lot of big press for her projects and events like the Grammys are so organized that she doesn’t get to experience chaos like this, especially with no security around. Jeffrey turns around to look at her. “Hold on to me, we’ll be inside in a minute.”

She smiles thankfully and intertwines their arms again on their way inside. As they are all stopped for the cast picture, the fans line up with the paparazzi to get some pictures themselves. There is a moment of silence as the hotel manager arranges everyone and clears the chaos. A random girl in the back of the people suddenly jumps up and, thereby, grabs everyone’s attention. “I LOVE YOU, KATHRYN.” She jumps again. “YOU’RE SO BEAUTIFUL, KATHRYN.” She yells, prompting Kathryn to break out into the most beautiful smile, a sight that doesn’t go unnoticed by Jeffrey who smiles back at her, creating a moment that is captured by a fan’s phone.

Dinner itself is calming and everyone has a good time. Kathryn loves to get to know everyone this way and they stay for multiple hours until the sun has long set and it seems like everyone is on their third desert, just to drag out the time.

Slightly intoxicated from all the wine she has had with the female co star next to her, Kathryn smiles at Jeffrey. “Thank you for offering a ride, by the way. I feel like I haven’t said that yet.”

“You are very welcome.” He replies and places his hand on her upper thigh for a moment as the two of them look at each other for a little too long.

“Kathryn! Another glass?” She actress next to Kathryn grabs her attention as the waiter offers to pour another one. Overthinking for a moment, Kathryn ends up declining the glass and asks for a water instead. She doesn’t want to be hungover tomorrow.

As it nears midnight, the cast slowly but surely makes their way back home and Jeff reaches out for Kathryn once again to help her up from the table. Just like before, he offers her a right back home to the hotel that she is staying in over night. They realize they are living on the same floor as they make their way back to her room. 

Kathryn, who’s red lipstick has already worn off from all the food and drinks she’s had, stumbles slightly. Not because she is drunk, but because of how tired she feels. There are no words to describe how glad she is that she doesn’t have to work early the next morning. Her first shoot isn’t until 3pm, so she will definitely be sleeping in.

Jeffrey guides her all the way to her room and watches her as she let’s herself in. He stays in the door frame, leaning against it as his eyes follow her every step. Kathryn takes off her blazer and ruffles through her hair after putting her jewelry on a plate on her table.

In her background, Jeffrey, who is still standing where she left him, clears his throat. “Come and spend the night with me.”

#kathryn hahn #kathryn hahn x reader #Kathryn Hahn x You #Kathryn Hahn fan fiction #Kathryn Hahn Fanfiction #groupie #groupie au

[thelonewolfes]

dunno if I'm a bit late but Farah/Saul for the ship thing!💕

i don't really ship farah and saul and see them more as best friends and will likely answer these all like that too, hope that's ok? Who said “I love you” first It probably happened when they were under Rosalind's care and something happened to one of them. It was one of those times that was just really bad and they didn't know if it would be alright again. So they just told each other they loved them and could not lose them because they were in this shit together and needed the other to survive so they could both survive. Something about them being platonic soulmates. Who would have the other’s picture as their phone background They both have the ugliest picture of the other as their background, or atleast as the called id. Who leaves notes written in fog on the bathroom mirror The one time Saul had problems in his bathroom and actually had to shower at Farah's place, it was this or showering where his students can come too, Farah left a note on the mirror saying he's an idiot and he better leave the bathroom clean or he would be in big trouble Who buys the other cheesy gifts They both buy each other the most hideous and cheesiest gifts, something that makes them both laugh so hard they won't be able to stop for the next 20 minutes Who initiated the first kiss They probably did a drunken kiss once and were like yeah no, sorry this is not it. They will totally push each other to kiss their crush tho Who kisses the other awake in the morning They don't. They may kick the other when it takes them too long to wake up, but this only happened when they were on the hunt for burned ones when they were younger. Who starts tickle fights Saul, and he always loses too. Farah is faster and merciless. Something Saul always forgets when he starts another one. Ben is just watching on the sidelines shaking his head, knowing how it's gonna end. It never ends well. Who asks who if they can join the other in the shower There probably have been times they had to shower close to each other when they were in search after the burned ones, but they rather not shower together no matter how close they are Who surprises the other in the middle of the day at work with lunch Saul surprises Farah because he didn't see her at lunch and he just knows she's a busy woman and a lot of times gets so lost in her work she forgets to eat. 'Can't have you dying now because i rather not take over your work', Saul says with a wink. Farah looks up just to roll her eyes at him and goes back to work. Who was nervous and shy on the first date They both were super nervous on their first date. They thought a double date was a good idea and it would make them less nervous, it didn't. It only made them more nervous. But they still had each other so eventually it actually went ok. Who kills/takes out the spiders Saul screams when he sees one and Farah just goes, it's just a spider Saul shut up. And then just sets it free. Saul makes her swear everytime this happens that she will never tell a soul about it. She told Ben of course. Who loudly proclaims their love when they’re drunk They both do! They will just cling to each other and keep telling they love each other. Most people who know them know it's not like that, but for the newer people it's just a weird sight.They will also be each other wingperson while absolutely drunk. send me a ship and i’ll tell you

#asks #faytalespy #thank you!! #did i kinda project this? yes oops #i have honestly no idea where this all came from but here ya go #ftws #fate the winx saga #farah dowling #saul silva

[d-targaryenshoe]

Night Scares • Andrew Deluca

Notes : this is my repost of my imagine because my old tumblr got blocked lol.

Summary: Andrew has a manic episode and one of his colleagues decides to call the one person he loves.

Warnings: anxiety

Word Count: 1385

Now here you were in the bar of your dad, releasing all the steam your body was filled with after a whole day killing fires, together with one of your best colleagues, Ben Warren.

"Blowing of steam is your synonym for getting drunk isn't it?" Ben inquired, pushing the door open as both of you walked in.

"I won't get drunk when my dad is babying me the whole night." You spoke when walking towards the bar and taking a seat on a barstool.

"Hey sweetheart, you want some water?" Joe inquired when he walked up behind you and kissed the top of your head, giving Ben a clap on the shoulder before walking behind the bar with the tray on his hand.

"See what i mean?" A small laugh left your lips when you pointed your finger at your dad, filling a glass of water which made Ben put his hands up in surrender with a smirk.

"Water is healthy, alcohol makes you sing in the middle of the street and dance on top of tables in front of strangers." Ben snorted just as he accepted the glass of water your dad handed him across the bar. "That's horror."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, Warren. That's not what Miranda told me on girl's night last week." You joked before raising your glass to your lips.

"So you're getting drunk with my wife every saturday?" The dark skinned man whispered, tilting his head to the side. "You're unbelievable."

"I'm an adopted daughter of a bartender that's very well known to surgeons that get their asses drunk in here after their shift, so yeah, i am." You admitted when throwing a glance at your dad as he talked to his costumers. "Oh crap."

"You never told me you were adopted Y/L/N?" Your best friend asked when you slightly froze, but knowing you had to explain anyways.

𝓣he feeling of your heart beating in your throat started to work it's way up and up and way more up every time.

Sure that this adoption was a big part of your life, but the fact that people always found out in a way. That incredibly annoyed you.

"What do you wanna know, Benjamin?" You questioned as your head was leaning on your hand while you swirled a paper umbrella between your fingers. "Joe adopted me when i was little, i don't know who my real mom or dad is, they probably didn't want me and Joe did."

The firefighter next to you nodded his head and put one hand on your shoulder, knowing that you were always strong on the outside but soft on the inside like a child.

"And you? Do you have a juicy detail about your life that I still don't know about after you arrived at the fire station?" You added with a light smile playing on your lips.

"Well if having a brother who has changed to a woman is a juicy detail, then there you go." Replied Ben with a roll of his eyes and a scoff.

"It's not a juicy detail, but it is a sign that she fulfilled her dream, he's a she now." You read when you patted his hand with a playful wink.

When it came to LGBTQ or transgender people, you were very protective because your father was gay? No, because every person is different and it is okay not to be normal and boring like a regular person.

"It took me time to accept it you know." He muttered, looking at the illuminated alcohol bottles behind the bar. "Miranda immediately accepted it, but i, i didn't."

You snorted, knowing that Ben also had his stubborn moments, and sometimes knew about himself.

A phone started ringing as you glanced to Ben but he shook his head so you grabbed yours out of your bag as it showed a private number.

"Hello Y/N, who am i speaking?" you asked, watching in Ben's direction as he gave you a questioning look.

"Good evening, this is Doctor Meredith Grey from Grey Sloan Memorial Hospital, are you the emergency contact of Andrew Deluca?" A female voice spoke on the other side of the phone with a soft tone as you heard yelling in the background.

"Y-Yeah i am, is something wrong with him?" and this was when you got worried, an emergency contact was all that put you off.

"Well, Andrew is acting rather weird, and since you are his emergency contact I need you to come over here as soon as you can." The woman spoke after she ended the call.

You got of your barstool and started to gather your stuff and place a few coins on the bar, hoping your dad would find them later.

"Y/N, what's wrong?" Ben got up from his barstool a wel and watched how you gathered your stuff with a hurry.

"I need to get to the hospital across the street, now." You muttered when you were done gathering your stuff and heading for the door of the bar.

"Let me go with you." Ben mentioned as he followed you across the street, not stopping for cars but only heading for the hospital. "Y/N for god's sake!"

"Not in the mood Ben." You hissed as a dark blonde female walked up to you with a slight hurry.

"Y/N?" she asked before you nodded your head, just wanting her to take you to him. So you could calm him down. "Follow me."

Walking through the hallway you soon came to a halt when you saw him sitting down against the nurse desk with his head between his knees and hands slightly shaking.

"I've got it from here." You assured her as you saw a lot of surgeons forming a small crowd around the hallway. "Could they give him some space?"

Meredith nodded as she went to go and speak to a red haired female.

Giving your bag to Ben, you strolled over to your husband who didn't saw the clarity of anything around him.

"Andrew." You whispered when bending down and placing your hand on his forearm but he flinched. "Andrew, it's okay."

"You don't know anything, Y/N." He snapped looking you in the eyes as his skin under his eyes was slightly blue. "you don't."

"You didn't have any sleep did you?" You challenged him when rubbing your eyes of tiredness as well.

"Even if i did it wouldn't mean anything to you." Your heart broke at that sentence, the tone and the way he said it and that's what made you crack.

"If it doesn't mean anything to me, then tell me Andrew. Why am i wearing this." You mumbled when atear slipped down on your cheek and get up from the ground. "We're married for 2 years, and you think i don't care?"

"Y/N i didn-" His eyes settled on his hand as it was wearing a golden ring as well. "I shouln't have said that."

"You shouldn't have, no." you mumbled whentaking your bag from Ben and walking up to Meredith and the ginger female.

"I'm April Kepner, nice to meet you." the red haired smiled when shaking your hand. "He never acted like this before."

"We didn't even know Andrew was married." Meredith spoke, giving you Andrew's clohes knowing he wouldn't finish his shift tonight. "But now we do."

"I'm sorry, he just wanted to keep it private and so did i." You answered when accepting the clothes and turing around as you walked towards your husband. "Come on, we're going home."

"Make me."

"Devo buttarti fuori di qui (do i have to kick you out of here) ?" You tilted your head to the side placing the clothes in his arms.

"No importa (Never mind)." Was the last thing he said before walking out of the hospital with his clothes in his hands.

#greys anatomy imagine #greys anatomy imagines #greys anatomy x reader #greys #abc #fanfiction #request open #andrew deluca imagine #andrew deluca imagines #andrew deluca

[supernatural-freek]

Knife To My Throat

Dean x Sister!Reader, Sam x Sister!Reader

Synopsis: Hello! I have a very angsty request!!! Winchesters x sister!reader. The reader is the boy's half sibling and always seems to be forgotten. She goes through memories of them forgetting about her for early years to present. [Never picked up from school, left behind on a hunt, having to clean up after them,stuck with research,chores,ect.] It makes her snap when she was put in a life threatening situation[kidnapped for a couple of months] and they didn't even notice she was not in the bunker.

NOTE: This is a lot sadder than I thought it would be, I’m so sorry. I’m also sorry if this wasn’t quite what you were looking for but once I started I couldn’t stop and- I mess around with the ages too, so don't worry about the canon ages.

There is a trigger warning for this one. It’s not the happiest of one shots.

REQUESTED

MASTERLIST

.

Your life passes in snapshots.

.

You’re 12, the product of something between your mom and a man whose two sons stare at you with blatant resentment. You’ve slandered something, soiled someone’s image or reputation. They’ve come to your school, you see, and they know who you are. They don’t take you with them when they leave, and you’re not sad to see them go.

When you tell your mom that the Winchester boys can’t possibly be your brothers, she laughs sadly until she starts crying and holds you tightly throughout the night.

.

She dies when you’re 14, two years after Sam and Dean had taken one look at you and decided that didn’t want you. Someone contacts John, and you hear the Impala before you see it. It’s a majestic beast, big and proud and growling. You desperately want to touch it.

John does’t let you stay for the funeral. He’s not being cruel, he’s just gotta get back to something. You sit in the back with Sam while Dean sits in the front with John.

“I don’t really hate you,” Sam whispers, sneaking you a lolly. You take it shyly. Sam smiles. “I’m Sam.”

“I know,” you say, and his smile grows instead of wavering, and you know that things won’t be too bad if Sam’s around.

.

Sam leaves when you’re 16, a teenage girl who’s prone to flinching at sudden movements but can stand next to a firing gun and have a spine of steel. Sam storms out the front door in a flurry of anger and deadly hate. John shouts something about not coming back, and Sam shouts back that he doesn’t care, and then the door slams.

He doesn’t say goodbye.

Dean comes to your bed that night, wordlessly asking for comfort. You roll over and let him lie next to you before you’re cuddling in to his side and crying as silently as you can. Dean’s body shakes, but the darkness hides if he’s got tears too. You fall asleep like that, and when you wake up, Dean’s already moving around the room and there’s no way to tell if last night had been real.

When you, Dean and John pile into the Impala, you think that it’s awful lonely in the backseat.

You miss your brother.

.

You’re almost 18 when you and John have your first real fight. You’ve argued before, fuck knows John can’t be around another living thing without arguing with it, but this time there’s a slap from you and a threat from him and Dean has to step in the middle.

He picks John over you. 

You can’t say it doesn’t hurt, but it’s expected. You stare at them, so alike in their feelings and their actions and their pain, and you scoff and shake your head and say, “I hate this family.”

“You aren’t hunting, Y/N, and that’s final!”

“And why not?” You shout back, and Dean groans because here you both go again. It’s the same argument you’ve just finished, but the anger is still rippling under your skin so you don’t walk away. “Am I just some glorified nurse? Here to clean up the messes?”

“You weren’t supposed to be my responsibility,” John seethes. He’s said it before. It doesn’t really hurt much anymore. “I’ve already lost Sam because of this life. I won’t lose you too.”

You give up fighting. It’s too tiring. You can’t be bothered.

.

When you’re 19, Dean comes back half-dead and without John.

You keep calm and stitch him back together again, going through too much alcohol and too many strips of cloth. You run out of dental floss for stitches, but you make fucking do, because if Dean dies on your watch, you may as well die too.

He’s not coherent the whole time he’s with you, mumbling about ghouls and blood and John, but you can’t spare a second to worry about John now, not if you want Dean to live. You manhandle him, pretending that he’s just drunk and not concussed and bleeding out. 

“Fuck you,” you hiss at him as you cover him with the sheets on the bed, sitting by his side as he sinks into a troubled sleep. “You problematic fuck.”

John doesn’t come back until three days later. He’s not horribly injured, but the claw mark on his chest has smeared blood all over his front and he looks like death incarnate. He sees Dean, still unconscious on the bed, and grunts, settling into the seat at the table and closing his eyes.

“Fucking ghoul,” he sighs, and then you’re attacking him with whatever medical supplies you have left.

Dean wakes up the next day, takes the keys, and drives you and John far away from that little town. You never tell him that you left your story book on the bedside table. 

It had been the last thing you’d had of your mothers.

.

You’re 22 when Sam truly settles back into hunting. 

You know he misses Jess, know that he’s got too much weight on his shoulders, know that he wants to find Dad just so he can go back to pretending he doesn’t miss his old life. But he settles into it after a while, sitting in the front seat with Dean. 

It’s still lonely in the back.

.

You’re 23 when John dies. 

Dean and Sam are without injuries. You have a broken arm that doesn’t get properly treated before you’re leaving the hospital in the dust, the taste of ash still on your tongues.

.

Everything goes to shit when you’re 24. There’s something about Sam, him being a Chosen One, and Dean says that John had wanted him to kill your brother, and it’s all so confusing. You know about the visions, and you trust the visions, but then Sam and the other kids like him are mutating into something else and you’re afraid.

You know it’s the Demon, good old Yellow-Eyes, but you don’t matter to him. You don’t matter to anybody. Bobby sees you sometimes, but that’s because Bobby is an old soul in an old body and knows what it is to be in the background.

Ellen sees you too, but only because you remind her of Jo. “Don’t let them boys walk all over you,” Ellen tells you one day, when you’re sitting at the counter at the Roadhouse after the boys had taken off on one of their adventures without remembering you. “Honey, you aren’t a doormat.”

“I’m not much of anything,” you tell her and then you finish your beer and motion for another.

.

You’re 25 when Sam dies and Dean sells his soul and leaves you with two brothers who are forever tainted with the cold tang of death.

Dean shoots the Demon.

You’re 25 when you look at schooling options for adults.

.

The Hellhounds come for Dean sometime after you turn 26, and you have nightmares about Sam’s cries and Dean’s blood until you have to start taking extreme measures, like pills and alcohol and concussions.

You and Sam crash at Bobby’s house once, and you sleep easier than you have since your brother went to Hell. 

When you wake up, Sam is gone and he doesn’t come back. Bobby looks at you with pitiful eyes, but you keep your head down and make yourself a list of permanent chores to do just so you have a purpose and won’t have to kill yourself.

.

Dean comes back while you’re still 26. You’ve given up on schooling, which is good, because Dean wants to look for Sam, and you have to scramble to get in the back seat of the Impala before he takes off with a squeal of the tires.

Bobby sits in the front. It’s not any less lonely in the back. You seem to care less now, and you wonder if it’s because the nightmares have sucked out your soul and no you’re just hollow and beaten and sad, and you don’t care anymore that your brothers don’t really care about you.

.

Sam causes the Apocalypse. You’re turning 28 the next day.

.

You meet Cas when you’re 28, but you aren’t important so he doesn’t see you. The angels don’t see you, your brothers don’t see you, and Bobby loses sight of you somewhere along the way. You slip through the cracks.

You go on a hunt on your own and it goes fine. 

You’re disappointed that you don’t die.

.

You’re 29 when Sam jumps in the Pit with Lucifer and Michael. Cas isn’t God, and you aren’t important enough for anybody to take as leverage. Zachariah had taken Adam and Sam, but he hadn’t taken you and that should tell you to quit while you’re ahead, but you’ve already decided you’re a lot cause with school and there’s nowhere else for you to go. 

Dean goes to Lisa and Ben. Cas disappears. You float around and you pretend you have purpose. You think your name becomes a legend amongst the hunters. Something about you being a ghost, here one moment and gone the next. 

You’re too cold to cry, really.

.

You’re 30 when you attempt to kill yourself and fail.

.

Nobody comes to get you until you’re 32. Sam loses and gains his soul in that time. There’s someone named Samuel. There’s Alpha monsters and Death and walls in minds that shatter far too easily, and then Cas is the new God, but he’s sick.

You run into the boys on a hunt. Dean says your name with the reverence of someone who has seen God and laughed. He talks to you, and it’s nice, and then he tells you about Leviathans and Cas and your heart breaks and you crawl into the back seat of the Impala and stare out the window.

Hunters still talk about the Ghost.

Dean doesn’t know that it’s you.

.

You’re 33 when Dean and Cas go to Purgatory, and you’re 34 when Dean comes back.

You’re 33 when Cas comes back, too.

.

You’re 35 when Metatron casts the angels out of Heaven and Sam fails the Trials. It’s a mess, but there’s Kevin and the Bunker, and the angels falling look like dying stars and it’s oddly beautiful.

Kevin likes you. It’s strange because Kevin doesn’t really like anybody else. You think that its nice to be seen, but then there’s Crowley and demons and your brothers are important again and you quietly make enough food that nobody stares and clean up afterwards. 

Your room stays bare. Nobody comments. You don’t think Sam or Dean could point out which room you claimed as your own anyway.

.

You’re 37 when Dean gets the Mark of Cain. It’s scary and it makes him into something harsher and more unstable. You try and keep quiet around him, because he seems almost hyper-aware of you now and he keeps eyeing you.

You make food and you do beer runs because that’s the role that they accept, and that’s the role you know. Charlie braids your hair once. It feels like something a sibling would do.

.

The Darkness brings Mary back when you’re 38. 

Mary looks at you once, understands who you are and what you represent, and then she turns to her boys and smiles. You are 39 years old in a world that doesn’t want you, and you’re invisible to everybody in the damn room.

You can’t harbour any anger for Mary though.

You’re just so unbearably tired.

.

You’re on the cusp of turning 39 when someone steals you off the road when you’re waiting for the boys to come out from questioning a witness. You don’t know who they are, but you know they want information on your brothers, they want someone to experiment with.

They want a hunter.

They want the Ghost.

Torture becomes old soon enough, so they play mind games. It takes them a while to adapt to your apathy though, but once they understand that forcing you to imagine your brothers being nice hurts more than making you think they hated you, things get going.

You don’t talk. But you hurt.

You hurt, you hurt, you hurt.

.

You’re 39 when you make your escape, killing everybody there and returning to the Bunker covered in blood and wounds and you are afraid.

“What the fuck,” Dean says in a tight voice as you stumble down the stairs. Cas is already charging towards you, a glowing hand held out. You flinch away. but he’s persistent, and your wounds close slowly. “Y/N?”

Sam stares at you with wide eyes. You stare back without saying anything. Cas gently brushes his hand over your shoulder. You croak miserably and he pulls away.

“Where were you?” Dean asks.

(You’re 39 when you realise that nobody had noticed you were gone.)

You turn away, intent on going back to your plain little room, but someone holds your arm and you can’t take the touch. “Stop,” you beg and whoever is holding you lets you go. 

“What-” Sam gets cut off by the guttural wail that rips from your throat.

“I was gone for months!” You seethe, voice cracking and rasping. You are 39 and you are breaking, breaking, breaking. “You didn’t come for me, you’ve never come for me.”

The Ghost, the Ghost, the Ghost.

“I am nothing and I am nobody, but I should have been somebody  and you took that from me and I don’t know what I’m supposed to do now.”

Cas reaches for you again. “Let me ease your troubles,” he says and fingers touch your forehead and nothing happens. “You are in too much pain.” he murmurs. “I am sorry.”

“So am I,” you whisper, and then you turn away from your brothers and you go to your plain little room.

.

You are 39 and half-Winchester when you press a gun to your temple and pull the fucking trigger.

#supernatural #supernatural dean #supernatural fanfiction #Supernatural fanfic #supernatural sam #supernatural angst #angst #sad #like seriously its sad #supernatural oneshot #request #sad supernatural imagines #supernatural imagine #sad supernatural one shots

[userdokja]

The Fall | Ben Solo x Reader | One.

Summary:  In which the reader is Poe’s best friend but doesn’t like Rey for him and Kylo has a crush on Rey. Then one day Poe and Rey get together, Kylo and the Reader helps each other to break them apart, then realizes that while they were doing it… They were falling for each other Instead.

Based on this

Warnings: Curse words, Soft Ben so this isn’t really a Kylo Ren x Reader, Fluff, My Writing and Grammar. 

Tagging whoever said Yes to this post 

@drawlfoy @jcc04220 @espacioytiempo @xxsirensong @i-am-lokii-of-asgard

Tell me if you want to be tagged for the next chapters, I’m just tagging you in the first part:)

Two

====

Being Poe Dameron's best friend was like a job, a fun job. Even though he's older than you you'd have to be the one who's looking out for him since he's mostly the one doing stupid things.

So when you heard that he was dating Rey, you jumped into protective mode.

"Rey? Isn't she the one everyone flirts with?"

"It's not her fault she's pretty." Pie grinned, "we're meant for each other."

You weren't sure about that, Rey and Poe were had too much in common, that's normally supposed to be a good thing but with them? They're going to end up hurting each other, Rey is someone sweet and kind and flirts with everyone without knowing it, while Poe  was a playboy who flirts with everyone on purpose.

The thing is, everyone is after them.

"Please just meet her for me?" Poe gave you the puppy eyes.

"Jesus, fine. Where?"

"The club, later at 9:00 pm?" You just nodded at him. "Thank you, so much."

He gave you a hug and kissed your cheek, you just rolled your eyes at him and continued your work.

----

You were arrived at the club at exactly 9:00, you wore your normal jeans and shirt.

Poe was already inside with Rey in his arms, you waved as you approached them.

"Hello, you must be Y/n. Poe's told me so much about you!" She gave you a big smile and shook your hand, too sweet.

"Nice to meet you." You gave her a small smile, she lead you to the bar to sit down and talk about stuff... You learned that she was actually okay, but that wouldn't change your mind about her and Poe.

"Hey, wanna go dance?" Poe said to her.

"Yeah sure! Y/n wanna join us?"

What Kind of question was that? "No, no I'll just stay here. With my drink." You lifted you glass up to show her that you had company, she nodded at you and walked away with Poe.

You were alone for atleast 30 minutes, for 30 minutes Poe and Rey we're dancing, and they still were, a tall guy in a black sweater took the seat beside you.

"Give me the strongest you have." He told the bartender, you tried not to stare at his face, or his hair just to try and remember where you saw him.

"Rough night?" The bartender asked him as he placed the drink in front of him.

"I guess..." He mumbled back, and took a shot out of his drink. "The girl I like is out there with an asshole."

"Ah, unrequited love. Must be a pretty girl for her to catch your attention." The man said, and the stranger beside you sighed before turning around to look at the girl he likes.

"There she is... Rey Kenobi."

Your eyes widened at the name, you choke on your drink making the two men look at you.

"So you're saying Poe Dameron is an asshole?" The long haired man furrowed his eyebrows at you. "I say Kenobi is a flirt."

"Poe is a playboy, which makes him an asshole." He says "Rey doesn't deserve that."

"Poe's not a playboy, a lot of girls are just after him..... And sometimes guys."

"And you're one of those people?" He raised his eyebrows at you and you scoffed at him.

"I'm just his best friend, and I don't like that Rey girl for him." He was about to say something but you cut him off. "I have nothing against Kenobi, she's a flirt without knowing it. But them together? The whole school would be a mess."

You took another sip from your drink and looked at Rey and Poe dancing like they're so in love.

"If only I can make him break up with her, but I don't want to be a bad friend." You look away from them and stood up from your seat.

"Hey, wait!" The long haired guy called after you. "Maybe you're trying to be a good friend, you know? Because you don't want them to hurt each other."

"What are you saying?"

"I can help you become a good friend." He said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. You look away from his to Rey who was having a drink with another man while Poe was still dancing, you look back at the man in front of you and laughed.

"Thank you, but... No." You said, trying to be polite, you were pretty sure the dude was drunk.

"Come on, If we do this we both get what we want. You get your best friend back and I get a shot with Rey." You bit your bottom lip and anxiously tapped your foot on the ground.

"Fine, let's give it a shot." You finally said. "My name's Y/n."

"Kylo Ren, nice to meet you." You looked at him with an amused face. "What?"

"Your real name."

"It's Ben, Ben Solo." You placed you hand on his and gave it a light shake. "Want to sit down and talk about it?"

----

You spent your night talking about Rey and Poe, their dislikes and something that can break them apart.

"We can get through Poe better." Ben says, It was already 11:40 and you were still in the same position you were in earlier.

"I have to agree on that, if only I can make him do something stupid."

"Of course you can, he's your best friend. I'll make him go to a stripper bar or something, Rey won't like that and she'll for sure break it off with him." He said, it was actually a good plan but a bit risky.

"Rey's going to blame us for making Poe go there."

"So?" He asked.

"Then our relationship with the both of them will be ruined you idiot." You playfully slapped his arm, "we've been doing this for hours."

"And we still have nothing."

You sighed in defeat and sipped your drink, you picked up your bag and finished your drink.

"This just isn't going to work out, Ben. I already feel so bad about doing this... And the thought of being responsible for them breaking up will be too much." You smiled at Ben sadly. "I'm sorry, but if they're really not for each other they'll break up within a month, Poe's relationships never lasts that long."

"It's fine, It was a stupid idea anyway, I hope I still see you around L/n."

"You too, Solo."

You were wrong, so wrong.

After a month, Poe's been bringing Rey into your shared apartment. And they would cook together as if they were this lovely couple you'd absolutely love to be with.

But no.

You had nothing against Rey but her sweetness and kindness seemed so... Fake.

"Are you still up for tonight?" It was your birthday, and since you live too far away from your parents Poe promised to be the one who's going to spend it with you.

"Uhm, yeah sure." Poe mumbled against Rey's neck, they also show too much PDA which you definitely don't approve of.

"Be there okay? Same place at 6?"

"Same place at 6." He repeated, at least he's still going to be with you.

----

When you arrived at your favorite restaurant you expected Poe to be a bit late like always, but you didn't know he'd be missing for an hour.

You already finished your food and drinks when you received a call.

"Hey, Y/n I'm very sorry about today It's just Rey needed help with her homework." Poe said through the line.

"Homework? Homework? Poe you don't even do your own homework." You felt your cheeks burning up.

"I'm sorry for not showing up-"

"I don't care about you not showing up, I'm mad because you'd put her in the line first instead of yourself. Not that it's a bad thing but for Christ's sake-"

"Look, Happy Birthday. But I really need to go now-" Poe cut you off, and for a second you could hear music blasting in the background. "I'll catch up with you later okay? Love you!"

The line was cut off, you wanted to call him again and scream at him, tell him how fake his new fucking girlfriend is.

"Stare at it longer it's going to melt." A deep familiar voice spoke, you looked up to see Ben, "That's Poe isn't it?"

"Yeah, he's still with Kenobi." You said, he took the unoccupied seat in front of you.

"You told me they'd be over in a month." He called for the waitress and ordered some food, you waited until he finished to explain.

"Rey's got him wrapped around her finger. Even got him to not go to my birthday."

"It's your birthday?" You nodded as a reply. "Well Poe's an asshole."

"So is Rey." You teased. "Why did you like her anyways?"

"I've known her since we were kids, until she went with those popular kids and we didn't talk much. I still like her even though she's different, don't know why."

"First love, I guess?" He laughed.

"Maybe." He sighed. "Happy birthday by the way.."

"Thank you." His food arrived and you ordered some fries for yourself, you spent the night talking with each other and talking about silly stuff.

"Hey since them being together makes us miserable, why don't we continue our plan?" Your eyes widened as you shook your head.

"No."

"Let's just give it a try. Just once and then we”ll stop trying to break them up." You thought about it this time, If they're going to break up anyways then why not just do it sooner? You're just going to make it a bit easier for them.

"Fine, we're going to do it." He raised his fist up.

“Finally!” 

-

-

A/N: Still don’t know If I’m going to continue, I’ve already written chapter two but again, I’m not very sure about this fic since I feel like it’s going to be awful. But i think this would at least be up to three parts so it’s a short one

Permanent tags: @aintnouseofpretending @just4muggles @heartbeats-wildly @lookinsidemyhead @katiegoddessofmischief

Star Wars Tags: @melcutie

#kylo ren #kylo ren x reader #Ben Solo #ben solo x reader #xreader #poe dameron x platonic!reader #poe dameron #rey kenobi #star wars #star wars x reader

[oldguybones]

This secret santa is for @sugarcoated-badass for the @itfandomprompts​ secret santa! I hope you enjoy it! :)

Summary: "Yup, they should have no problem sharing a room," Bill declared to the rest of them as Richie and Eddie still argued in the background. "They already act like a married couple."

Eddie's head whipped to the side, "What? Share a room? With Richie?" He shook his head. "No way! I'm not sharing a room, I'm a grown man. I'm not doing that."

"Enjoy sleeping on the couch then," Richie said smugly as he marched off down the hall towards the bedroom. Eddie grabbed all his bags and hurried after him, shouting at him all the while. 

Rating: G

Pairings: Reddie, Stenbrough, Benverly

In hindsight, it was a bad idea. Trying to get out of New York on Christmas Eve proved to be a nightmare. It wasn't as if the seven of them hadn't attempted it before; in fact, their annual Christmas trip held rank as the loser's longest standing tradition, holiday variety or not. 

Then again, fighting off an evil, demonic clown together before they could even drive was bound to strengthen the bonds between them.

So every year, the lot of them would brave the airports during the holidays and meet in New York (where the small majority of them currently resided). From there, they would drive to a rented cabin and spend the weekend catching up. They didn't always get to see each other as much as they wanted to but when they were together, they made sure it counted. 

As always, Mike and his wife were the first to arrive at the cabin. It was fitting considering they were the ones who always put it under their names in the rental agreement. Jennifer had only been tagging along for the past few years and this would be her first year attending as Mrs. Hanlon.  

Next to make it were Ben and Beverly. They had attended every single one of these trips as mister and misses, seeing as the two of them eloped shortly after they both turned 18. Almost ten years had passed since then and now they were about to welcome a new baby into the world. 

Everyone tried to assure Bev, who was just shy of 8 months pregnant, that they didn't have to make it out, they could miss one year. Always the firecracker, Bev adamantly refused to sit it out, despite how nervous it made Ben. Cabin in the woods. Minimum cell reception. Heavily pregnant wife. Sure! What could possibly go wrong?

And then the final four arrived, much to Stan's distaste. He didn't appreciate being the last ones to show up, but there wasn't much he could do about it when they were chauffeuring the two biggest idiots in the world. Between Richie's lack of preparation and Eddie's over preparedness, it took almost an hour extra between the two stops before they were finally on the road.

Bill, from the passenger seat, kept reminding Stan to breathe, while Stan kept tightening the hold he had on Bill's hand. They'd known about this trip all year, since the last one and Richie was just now packing, as they waited outside? 

And then with Eddie, it was bag after bag and multiple checks to make sure he had everything, all while Richie was egging him on. Stan cursed the decision to pick Richie up first. 

By the time Stan walked through the cabin door, he was about ready to burst with frustration. Thankfully, Mike was quick to offer him a drink. 

"Wow, Bev, you're huge!" Richie exclaimed as he flung his duffle bag to the side of the couch where Bev sat. 

"Can it, Tozier!" She shouted, the hint of a smile tugging at the corners of her lips, "Or else I'll sit on you!"

Richie laughed, leaning down to press a light kiss of greeting to Bev's cheek. His hand naturally came down to rest on her belly for a second as he dipped his head down and whispered, "Hi there little penny."

It was met with a chorus of groans and Bev shoving at his shoulder. 

"Rich, for the last time, that's not funny," Ben insisted adamantly as he handed Bev the glass of water he'd been retrieving. 

"Well excuse me for trying to give the munchkin a nice name," Richie joked, his hands held up in front of him in mock defense. 

Mike chuckled and rolled his eyes at the interaction. "So the two rooms at the end of the hallway are still open for you guys. Figured Bill and Stan can have one obviously and then Richie and Eddie, you guys can bunk in the other one." 

Eddie, who was attempting to roll in every single bag he brought at the same time, tripped over the duffle bag Richie tossed aside. Out of frustration, he kicked it to the side.

"Hey!" Richie shouted indignantly, marching over to grab his bag. "Have a little respect, why don't you?"

"Well if you didn't want your shit kicked, why's it in the middle of the floor?" Eddie retorted, stopping to stare at Richie expectedly. 

The rest of the losers watched, not the least bit surprised by their interactions. Even Jennifer wasn't immune to their bickering, she'd witnessed it firsthand a number of times. 

"Yup, they should have no problem sharing a room," Bill declared to the rest of them as Richie and Eddie still argued in the background. "They already act like a married couple."

Eddie's head whipped to the side, "What? Share a room? With Richie?" He shook his head. "No way! I'm not sharing a room, I'm a grown man. I'm not doing that."

"Enjoy sleeping on the couch then," Richie said smugly as he marched off down the hall towards the bedroom. Eddie grabbed all his bags and hurried after him, shouting at him all the while. 

Stan let out a groan once they were out of ear shot. "I can't deal with another year of those two acting like they're not madly in love. It's been almost fifteen years, can they get their shit together already?"

"We've been trying for years," Bev said, shaking her head. "Those two are the dumbest, most stubborn people I've ever met."

"They'll realize it sooner or later," Ben offered knowingly. 

"How stupid they are?" Stan questioned with a smirk as he downed the rest of his drink. 

Ben chuckled in response and corrected him,"How they feel about each other."

Unfortunately for the group, despite their collective hope, Richie and Eddie did not realize their feelings before bed time. Over the course of the last few hours, they had bickered like they'd been married for twenty odd years. Everyone knew what it meant. Everyone except the two of them.  

The two got caught under a sprig of mistletoe. Richie jokingly puckered his lips while the crowd of them hooted and hollered. But Eddie just blushed and stammered out some excuse, stomping away from the scene. 

Finally bedtime came around. Mike and Jennifer were the first to go, followed by Ben and Bev, the former having to practically drag the latter to their room. Bev wanted to stay up and socialize with everyone, but her body didn't have the energy she thought it did. She was falling asleep on the couch, with her head resting on Ben's shoulder (she was snoring but no one was about to tell her that). 

After a while, Stan drug a very drunk Bill off to their room, leaving just Richie and Eddie behind. They sat in silence for a few moments. Their attentions were elsewhere as they both nursed their last drink of the night. 

"I can't believe Ben and Bev are about to be parents," Eddie commented idly, glancing over at Richie. "It's crazy."

Richie nodded in agreement. "Mike just got married not long ago. Stan and Bill just got engaged. What the fuck are we doing with our lives, Eds?"

"Speak for yourself," Eddie replied in offense, "I've got a very successful job, thank you very much."

"Oh yeah, I bet being a risk analyst is soooo rewarding," Richie teased, lightly rolling his eyes. 

"Oh right, my job is boring, blah, blah, blah," Eddie shot back with a roll of his eyes, "It's better than being a comedian. Because I'm sure that pays really well."

"I'm not in it for the money, Edward." Richie playfully tossed his hair, "I have a gift. It'd be a shame not to share it with people."

Eddie scoffed into his drink, a light snicker echoing in the glass. "I've sat front row for like fifteen years. I'd hardly call it a gift."

Richie stood, dramatically finishing the last of his drink and making intense eye contact with Eddie, saying slowly, "You just hate me, because you ain't me."

Eddie clenched his jaw so tightly he thought for sure he'd crack a tooth. But he refused to give Richie the satisfaction of a laugh, despite how it tried to come out regardless. He held Richie's gaze unwaveringly until he turned around and started walking towards their room. 

Richie dramatically whipped his head around when he reached the door. Eddie's eyes still bore into him with the same firm resolve. He chuckled to himself, feeling his heart skip a beat. "Goodnight Eds," he said, sounding positively smitten to anyone not in denial. "Enjoy the couch."

Despite his best efforts, hours later, Eddie couldn't sleep. No matter how hard he tried to will himself to sleep, regardless of the position he laid in, he just couldn't. Every muscle in his back ached. 

Begrudgingly, he grabbed the numerous blankets from the couch and quietly crept down the hallway to the last room on the right. Maybe if he was quiet enough, he could slide into bed without waking Richie up. He was a pretty heavy sleeper. One time, at a sleepover, Eddie had to use the bathroom in the middle of the night. It was dark and there were at least three of them sleeping on the floor, Richie being one of them. Without being able to see very well, Eddie had managed to step on Richie’s hand. He didn’t even so much as stir. So at least back then, he was an abnormally heavy sleeper, Eddie wasn’t sure if he ever grew out of it.

Unfortunately though, when Eddie pushed the door open, Richie was wide awake, laying on his side with his head resting on his hand and elbow planted on the bed. "I've been expecting you."

Eddie made a move to turn right back around but Richie called out to him with a chuckle in his voice. "Wait, wait, wait, come back! There's plenty of bed for the two of us."

Glaring daggers at him, Eddie trudged over to the bed and flopped his weight down onto it, curling up on his side with his back facing Richie so he didn't have to see the smug look on his face. "This is only because that couch is wrecking my back," He was sure to justify. 

"Okay," Richie laughed under his breath, "Old man."

Eddie bit back a shiver at the feeling of Richie's warm breath against the back of his neck. They weren't close enough for their bodies to touch, but he could still feel it and it made his stomach flutter nervously. 

So as always, he hid behind his thinly veiled threats, words that never had any real heat behind them. "Oh, like you wouldn't be in the exact same position."

"Not saying I wouldn't be," Richie chuckled, "But I'm not the one who insisted on sleeping on the lumpy ass couch."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever," Eddie grumbled, hugging his blanket closer around his body. "Let's just go to sleep, okay?"

Richie smirked, still resting on his side and facing Eddie's back. "Yes, dear."

The next time Eddie woke up, it was a quarter to three and he was dripping sweat. His entire body felt like it was on fire. Kicking drastically, he tried to rid himself of the heavy blankets draped over him, only to find something else draped over him as well. It was Richie's arm, resting over his side and wrapped around his midsection. A new heat rushed over Eddie, his cheeks turning bright red at the predicament he found himself in.

He didn't not like it; in fact, he didn't not like it a lot. Something about it just felt right. Without thinking, Eddie scooted back until his body was pressed back against Richie’s. His heart hammered wildly in his chest as Richie pulled him in tighter. Part of his palm now rested on the sliver of skin exposed from his t-shirt riding up; it was dangerously close to brushing against the awful scar that ran down the center of his chest. 

“Is this okay?” Richie asked from behind him, his voice low and slow with sleep.

Eddie swallowed the lump in his throat and forced out a nod as Richie’s thumb brushed against the very bottom of the scar.

“I was so scared that day,” Richie whispered, his thumb tracing along the entire line of the scar. “I mean, from more than just the demonic clown.”

Eddie offered a soft chuckle in response.

“I thought I was going to lose you, Eds,” Richie confessed. He leaned in to nuzzle his nose against the back of Eddie’s neck. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

“You would have been okay,” Eddie reply gently as he reached his hand up to rest over Richie’s.

“No, I don’t think I would’ve been,” Richie insisted, adamantly shaking his head. “Losing you...it would have destroyed me.”

At these words, at the obvious pain behind them, Eddie turned over in Richie’s arms to face him. Tentatively, he reached up to cup Richie’s cheek, stroking his thumb against the stubble along his jaw. “I’m okay, Richie. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Good,” Richie murmured softly, pressing a lingering kiss to Eddie’s forehead and then leaning down to press one to his cheek, but before he could, Eddie moved his head so that their lips brushed. At first, Richie pulled back, purely out of shock from the electric spark that bounced between them. Then, he leaned back in and captured Eddie’s lips in another equally electrifying, but much longer kiss. 

When they finally pulled apart moments later, Richie pressed his forehead against Eddie’s, their lips brushing together as he spoke. “I should’ve done that a long time ago.”

“Yeah,” Eddie agreed breathlessly, “I should have too.” He tucked his head under Richie’s chin and listened closely to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. 

“Goodnight, Eds.”

“Goodnight, Rich.”

In the morning, as the two stumbled out of their shared room, they came to stand at the end of the hallway. Everyone was in the living room, already awake and socializing. Thinking he had been sneaky, Stan proudly lit up and pointed above their heads.

“Oh! Look at that you guys! You’re under the mistletoe! You have to kiss!”

And the two of them did not disappoint. They shared a kiss under the mistletoe, in front of all their friends. They let Stan have his victory and continue to think his brilliant scheme was the driving force behind their get together. They decided to keep the real moment between just the two of them. It felt more special that way.

“Ugh, finally!” Bev exclaimed good naturedly.

Richie looked down at Eddie with a big grin, wrapping an arm around his waist.

“I know. It’s about damn time.”

Permanent Taglist:

@maximusfraker​​, @eds-kas​​, @iamworried7​​, @whyisthisfrenchguymasturbating​​, @flix-net​​, @reddiesetandgo​​, @crazywriterxio​​, @saturnsocoolioyep​​, @some-raging-fangirl, @tinyarmedtrex​​, @bbyeds​​, @beepbeepbitchard​, @was-i-even-reddie​​, @kaspwitch, @its-stranger-than-you-think​​, @s-s-georgie​ @reddie-for-anything​​, @studpuffin​​, @richardtoz​​, @eduardokaspbrak​​, @xandertheundead​. @eddiefuckinkaspbrak​, @jem-carstairs-is-perfection​, @constantreaderfool, @nancynwheeler, @purplepoisonedgem, @reddieobsessed, @reddieslashgeneralhorror, @kaspbrak-tozier-reddie, @ultrapaninibred, @sarafigueiredo13, @svnnyflwr, @lifesucksheres20bucks, @trashmouthtozierr

#My Work #Reddie

[benscaligraphyset]

Starward- chapter two

A/N: so sorry this update took me so long! It’s been kind of a crazy month but my updates will hopefully be more consistent from now on! Please let me know what you thought of this chapter! Comments and reblogs are appreciated :)

Warnings: drinking

You splashed water on your face.

Why were you so nervous?

The refresher’s shower ran in the background while you stared at your reflection in the mirror.

Should you wear makeup?

No.

You groaned and threw your face in your hands. You just needed to relax. You nodded at your blurry reflection in the now fogged up mirror and hung your robe on the hook.

The warm water was instantly calming and encouraged you to take long, deep breaths. Maybe you’d have time for a quick meditation session before you had to go. The thought made you question why you even needed one.

This was Ben.

Big, goofy, grumpy Ben whose ears were too big for his head.

Besides, even if you were interested in him that way, he made it pretty clear in the cantina that he did not. And you were glad that he didn’t. That would only complicate things.

You shook your head of those thoughts. Jedi weren’t allowed to form attachments anyway, so whatever you used to feel for Ben before you left doesn’t matter. You weren’t children anymore.

You inhaled deeply as your jebwa flower-scented soap drenched you in tranquility. It was the same scent your mother had always used.

Just as you were beginning to relax, a loud knock at the door startled you and caused your eyes to fly open. You cursed as shampoo slipped down into your eyes and they instantly burned.

“Hey, chosen one, other people have to shower, too,” a girl's voice rang out.

You already knew she was going to be the cause of a lot of your meditation sessions.

You quickly washed the shampoo out of your hair and stepped out of the shower, wrapping your lilac towel around your body.

You grabbed the clothes you were planning on wearing and slipped them on. You could’ve waited to do this until you left the refresher but her incessant knocking made you want to go slower.

Finally, you thrust the door open to see her scowling face. The girl’s white hair sat atop her head in beautiful, intricate braids that stopped just above her shoulder. Her bright green eyes were squinted and her full lips were twisted into a scowl. She was actually quite pretty, it was too bad she was a bitch.

She said nothing to you and simply slipped into the room behind you, being sure to shut the door a little too hard.

“Nice to meet you, too.”

~

The sun was beginning to set, bathing the inside of the temple in a golden light and making the floor tiles shimmer. The specks of light appeared to be dancing with each step you took. You took a moment to smile in admiration of the sight of the temple that basically looked like it was taken straight from a painting. This place wasn’t the worst place to spend most of your time.

“Hello, Y/N,” Luke greeted and you pulled your gaze away from the temple to see him give a nod in your direction.

“Hello, Master Luke,” you replied cheekily, stopping to come in front of him.

He rolled his eyes. “I told you, you don’t have to call me that.”

“I wouldn’t want anyone to think I’m getting special treatment, Master.” He chuckled with a shake of his head.

“I’m gonna regret training you aren’t I?”

You nodded, trying but failing to keep a straight face. He nodded his head in the direction of the archway of the temple and started walking, with you trailing behind.

“How was my speech?”

“You mean the three other times I heard it or...?”

“Listen, smart mouth—“

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” you interrupted and nudged him a little.

“The speech was great. I think they were really listening to you.”

Even if you hadn’t seen his shoulders lessen their tension, you could feel his anxiety lessening and relief replacing it. You gave him a smile, which he returned.

“I see you and Ben had time to catch up,” he said.

You stopped just outside the temple entrance and looked at him. He had a peculiar look on his face that you couldn’t place. You tried to press and feel what he was feeling but he didn’t let you in, much to your frustration.

You flushed at the thought of Luke seeing you hold his hand.

“Yeah. We had a lot to catch up on...it’s been a while.”

“It has.”

“And it wasn’t very kind of you to not-so-subtly aim your comment of controlling emotions at him,” you added, giving him a pointed look.

“Well neither you nor Ben have ever been good in that category,” he defended with a tiny smirk.

“Yes, but he doesn’t need you pointing it out in front of everybody.”

Luke chuckled softly and smiled at you.

You squinted. “What?”

“You always were the first to defend him,” he said adoringly.

Well if no one else is going to, you thought to yourself but thought better of vocalizing it.

“Anyway...who’s the girl with white hair?” you asked, eager to change the subject.

You were sure Luke could feel the irritation rolling off your shoulders at the mention of the mystery girl.

“Ah,” he said knowingly. “So, I see you’ve met Voe.”

“I wouldn’t call it meeting as much as her yelling at me for being in the refresher too long.”

“Yeah, Ben didn’t get along much with her either when they trained together.”

“I can’t imagine why.”

Luke chuckled softly.

“Voe had a bit of a rough upbringing... she’s never felt good enough. Especially when it came to Ben. And he talked about you a good bit after you left—“

“He did?” you asked. A little too excitedly based on Luke’s eyebrow raise at you.

You cleared your throat. “I mean, he did?”

“Yes, he did. We both did,” Luke replied. “Ben and I both spoke very highly of you...And she can sense how strong your powers in The Force are for herself, which, I’m sure, contributes to her insecurities.”

You sighed.

How was it your fault that you were stronger than her? If she just worked harder and didn’t get so in her head she could be nearly as good and you and Ben.

“Easy,” Luke said in a warning tone.

“I didn’t say anything,” you replied defensively.

“I don’t need to be Force-sensitive to know what’s going on in your head.” He tapped on the side of your head and you rolled your eyes, pushing him away. He stared at you for a second before turning serious.

“Not everyone has had the same opportunities you’ve had, you need to remember that.”

You stared into his clear blue eyes before needing to drag your gaze away. His disappointed looks always stung more than anyone else’s.

You nodded; he was right, you knew he was.

“Where are all you going off to? Do I even wanna know?” He asked as the other younglings bustled around you and towards the valley.

“Uh, group bonfire slash bonding session? I don’t even know,” you admitted with a soft chuckle.

“Well have fun with that.”

“I’m sure I will.”

You felt a familiar presence and smiled to look over at the entrance where Ben stood in new tan robes. You could tell he was freshly showered as his hair was still damp and sticking to the sides of his face. His look of discomfort at the aspect oncoming socialization almost made you laugh but you held it in.

You were going to make sure Ben Solo had fun tonight if it was the last thing you did.

~

By the time you both made it down to the valley, the sun had nearly disappeared behind the horizon and the other students were adding sticks to fuel the large flame in front of you.

Neither of you had much time to admire the view before a purple figure was running to you.

“Hey, Y/N! You made it!” Helixia, the twi’lek from the cafeteria, greeted you excitedly. You had to hold back a laugh when Ben jumped in surprise.

“Hey, Helixia.”

Her gaze flickered to Ben and you instinctively went to introduce him.

“And you're Ben!” Helixia exclaimed before you could. “Ben Solo! It’s such an honor too meet you. Your mom has always been a hero of mine...”

You could feel Ben’s discomfort rising the more she spoke about his family.

“Hey,” you tried to find a polite way to interrupt, “Do you guys want a drink?”

“Oh, well I’ve already had a drink but if you guys want one they’re over there.” She gestured to a table with an assortment of drinks.

“Thanks,” you said and Ben took this as his opportunity to fast walk toward the table.

“No problem--Hey Tai!” You were relieved when she ran over to greet boy just arriving.

“So, everyone already knows exactly who we are,” you grumbled and took a sip of your Corellian whiskey. The strong burn was worth the feeling of warmth throughout your chest.

“I think I have you beat,” Ben replied, taking a sip of his own drink. “At least you had a chance of anonymity.”

“That is true.”

You sighed dramatically and watched as the other students mingled. You spotted the girl from earlier, Voe, in the crowd, wearing an unimpressed face. She looked like she was trying so hard. She needs to just let go--

You thought back to what Luke said and stopped your train of thought. Everyone learned at their own pace and it wasn’t your place to judge her.

“You know, I know we are, but maybe we shouldn’t stand apart from everyone like a pair of loners,” you said and nudged him. “We should try and socialize.”

Ben hummed. “Sounds awful.”

You giggled softly and grabbed his hand.

“Come on,” you said and began to drag him towards the other students, ignoring his protests. “This will be good for us.”

Ben grumbled something next to you but you ignored it.

Maybe it was the nerves or maybe it was because you haven’t had more than a sip of alcohol in years, but you had definitely drunk more than you should have. Ben had cut you off when you mentioned the stars spinning above you.

You remember convincing Ben to dance with you and him begrudgingly agreeing, lightly moving his limbs to the song playing before quickly finding an excuse to be somewhere else. You danced with another boy named Tai, who had a very calming, mellow energy about him and Helixia came to join. At some point, you went to socialize with others but everything after that is a little foggy.

Before you knew it, you were sitting on a log a bit away from everyone else. You blinked a few times and looked around, spotting Ben sitting next to you.

“Wait, what happened? I was forcing you to socialize.”

Ben snorted. “Yes, you certainly were. But, I figured we both could use a break as you and I both know that we’re happier just sitting here by each other.”

You were grateful the alcohol could be used as an excuse for the flush that rose to your face. Ben must’ve realized how his words sounded because he cleared his throat and began to backtrack.

“I mean, by ourselves, like, not disturbed by others not...“

You would’ve saved Ben the embarrassment of stumbling through his sentence if you weren’t in such a nice state of warmth and tranquility. Ben’s voice just felt like background music to you as you closed your eyes and let his voice lull you into an even happier state.

You really had missed him.

“...and you’re not even listening to me.”

Okay, that you caught.

“Sorry...I think I had a little too much to drink,” you said and a giggle bubbled inside your chest. Your brain finally got the signal to open your eyes and you saw Ben wearing an amused smile.

“A little? Without me, you’d be passed out by now.”

“My hero,” you said, dramatically placing a hand over your chest.

“Did I succeed in my mission for the night?” You asked.

Ben tilted his head. “What mission?”

“My mission to make sure you had fun tonight.”

Ben laughed loudly, throwing his head back. He took another sip out of his bottle. “Yes, I would say you succeeded.”

You both laughed and you took a second to just listen to the laugh you’ve missed for so many years. You smiled and rested your head on his shoulder.

“I really have missed you, Ben.”

His force presence was a storm of emotions ever since your head touched his shoulder. Maybe he just decided he didn’t care about all the thoughts in his head right now, or your relaxing presence helped him, you’ll never know which but after a minute, his presence finally felt calm for the first time since you had returned.

He sighed and placed his head on top of yours.

“I’ve missed you too, Starward.”

Taglist (ask to be added or removed):

( @lover1307​ @bepo-is-sorry​ @snakelaufeyson @supervengerslock @shockwavee @kilo-wrench @ohhh-boo-tiful @serenityofbeingascintilla @kilo-wrench @ohhh-boo-tiful @ladyzirkonia @noisyflappersonaoaf @fandomshit6000 @i-am-lokii-of-asgard​ @siren-queen03 @dark-night-sky-99  @nickangel13​ @girlyisthatweirdkid @edwardspaghedwardtozier @irreverent-dream​ )

#ben solo x you #ben solo x reader #ben solo fanfic #ben solo fanfiction #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren x you #Kylo Ren fanfic #kylo ren fanfiction #Luke Skywalker #Ben Solo #Skyward #SW Fanfic

[brittle-bone-gabe]

A Losers Thanksgiving

Basically, I bought It: Chapter 2 a week ago and adored rewatching when the Losers reunited at the restaurant and had to write something based on that.   Summary: Shortly after getting married, Ben and Beverly invite the Losers Club over for Thanksgiving. Pairings: Adult Reddie (Richie x Eddie), Adult Benverly (Ben x Beverly)   Read on Ao3: Here

After the ordeal back in Derry, Maine it wasn’t a surprise that Beverly Marsh and Ben Hanscom ended up leaving together to go to Lincoln, Nebraska; just like Richie and Eddie left together to go to Chicago. The thoughts of Bev’s ex-husband faded when she moved into Ben’s house, every bad, abused memory that she ever had also faded. This was the first time in her life she was ever treated right by a man, she’d be lying if she said she didn’t use to flinch whenever Ben moved too quickly around her. Well, while Ben understood where she was coming from, he did everything he could to make her feel more comfortable and secure. It wasn’t long before she started feeling comfortable around him, acting like both best friends while still dating. The best kind of relationship. Of course, Ben had a feeling that if she had reason to, Bev would kick his ass. 

Richie and Eddie got married before Ben and Beverly did; only a week apart. It wasn’t planned, it just sort of happened, and they couldn’t help but laugh about that. Of course something like that would happen to the Losers. Back to back Loser weddings were the best. Although, Richie always pointed out that his wedding was better for the fact he put small bags of weed underneath the Losers seats. Well... that’s what was supposed to happen, but Eddie’s mother sat in a chair they weren’t expecting her to and instead of something normal under her seat she had a small bag of weed. Whoops. Richie didn’t hear the end of that for almost a year, now he and Eddie’s mom couldn’t make eye contact with each other. 

Ben and Beverly’s wedding was normal for the most part. It was certainly a beautiful one at that with all the Losers showing up. Beverly’s uncle, who she saw as a father, walked her down the aisle all while Ben was keeping everything he had to not cry. Ben remembered looking out to see Richie tease him by moving a finger down his cheek, implying that he was going to cry. Making sure nobody was looking, Ben threw him a discreet middle finger. Richie was about to retaliate, but both Eddie and Stan punched him on either arm.   

At this point, the Losers had a lot of pictures of each other at weddings; beautiful, formal pictures, and a lot of drunken pictures. With all the years apart they needed to catch up for lost time, this was the perfect way to do it too. Mike Hanlon had a lot of the formal pictures set up at his desk at work, but at home he had the stupid ones hung up on the wall. Richie wanted to hang up the pictures where Eddie was clearly drunk out of his mind, but Eddie refused, saying that he will burn the house down if he did that. Maybe Richie would risk it. Bill had a wedding photo taken of all the Losers set as his laptops background, always looking back on it whenever he was in a state of writers block. 

                                                            -----

Bev was moving around the house, putting up Thanksgiving decorations, being sure not to get in Ben’s way since he was on a video conference with a large group of people and didn’t want to get in the way of that. Thanksgiving was next week and she was excited, it was their first holiday being husband and wife and she wanted everything to be perfect. Plus, she always wanted to decorate a house with holiday decor; she wasn’t allowed to at her fathers house and when she moved to aunt and uncles they never really decorated either. Ben, on the other hand, welcomed it. They went out together, picking things out that would look good for the house. Ben remembered the huge smile on Bev’s face as she picked up decor items, holding it up to him, asking if he thought it would look good. Of course, he would always agree, a smile just as big on his own face. 

While she was decorating, holding the fake turkey in her hands while standing in the kitchen, Bev stopped, getting a fantastic idea. She absolutely could not wait for Ben to get off the conference call to ask him about it. Bev was thinking: Hey, this would be mine and Ben’s first holiday, why not get the Losers in on it? Oh, hell yeah, that would be an amazing time. 

The moment Ben closed his laptop, letting out a sigh, moving into the kitchen where Beverly was still in, standing on the counter as she was putting little turkey stickers on the window. Ben came up behind her, putting his hands on her waist to make sure she wouldn’t fall backwards. Bev giggled as he helped her down. 

“It’s looking great!” Ben said, a smile on his face before planting a kiss on Beverly’s forehead. 

“This is my favorite!” She picked up the fake turkey plush that was sitting on the kitchen island. “Squeeze it!” She held it out to him. Ben took it from her, doing what he was instructed to do. Gobble, gobble, gobble. “Isn’t it cute!” 

Ben couldn’t help but laugh, putting the plush on his wife's head. “It’s so cute, just like you.” Bev stood on her toes, giving Ben a kiss as the plush toy slid off her head and to the floor. 

“Sooo... I had an idea for Thanksgiving,” she said, picking up the plush. 

“Hmm... more decorations?”

Bev laughed. “N- well, yes, but no. What if we invited the Losers for Thanksgiving?” 

Ben loved that idea. It was a few months ago since they seen their best friends for their wedding, but having them over for a holiday? That would be amazing. 

“That...” Ben wrapped his arms around Bev’s waist, pulling her in close, “is a fantastic idea. Do you think they’ll come?” 

“I hope so.” 

                                                            -----

Thankfully all of the Losers decided to drop whatever (if they had any) plans they originally had for Thanksgiving to travel to Lincoln, Nebraska to see Bev and Ben for the holidays. Yeah, Bill and Stan’s family wasn’t too thrilled about the idea that they wouldn’t be around for Thanksgiving, but they managed to get out of it by bringing up the fact it’s been a long time since the Losers were together and never around each other during the holidays. Yeah, Stan had to sleep on the couch for awhile, but he was still able to go. Bill had bought his plane ticket as soon as he got off the phone with Ben. Mike didn’t really have anything going on anyways, thankfully he didn’t work on Thanksgiving, in fact, he was originally was just going to order a pizza for the night and watch movies back to back until he fell asleep. So getting that phone call turned his entire mood around. 

Eddie got an earful from his mother when he called to tell him that he and Richie weren’t going to make it to the family Thanksgiving dinner they had every year. She was trying to guilt trip him into going, and Eddie almost gave in, but Richie held his fingers up to his own head, pretending to shoot himself, dramatically leaning to his side as if he were dead. While he was trying to be funny he accidentally slipped and fell off his chair, landing on the floor with a thud as the chair slipped and fell on him. Eddie rolled his eyes, saying that they couldn’t make it. He kept apologizing, saying he loved her before hanging up the phone. 

“You’re a goddamn idiot,” he told Richie, who pulled himself up from the floor, his joints cracking as he did. “God, you’re old.” 

Richie laughed, flipping his husband off with both middle fingers. “Fuck you.” Eddie got back on his phone, looking for flights. “What’cha doin’?” 

“Booking before it’s too late,” Eddie said, his eyes focused on the screen. 

“Or... or, or...” Richie said, covering his phones screen, “we could drive there.”

“Drive...?” Eddie asked, looking up at Richie who nodded, a goofy smile on his face. “It’s only a two hour flight, driving would take, like...” he looked it up quickly, “seven and a half hours.” 

“Awww, c’mon, Eddie Spaghetti! Road trip!” 

“I can barely handle being in the house with you, do you think I could handle being stuck in a confined space with you?”

Richie put a hand on his chest, looking hurt. “Ouch... you hurt me.” 

“Good.” Richie blinked a few times, not sure what to say. “...Fine, but I’m driving.” 

“Oh... I’d rather walk. I’d get there faster.” 

                                                           -----

Thanksgiving finally rolled around, Beverly was overly excited as she was pacing back and forth, waiting for the Losers to show up. She had woken up early with Ben as they started working on Thanksgiving dinner, stressing herself out about it, but Ben had to reassure her that the Losers said they were going to be bringing stuff too so she didn’t have to do everything. God, Bev never hosted a dinner before, she didn’t know what she should or shouldn’t do, what would or wouldn’t be too much. She knew that the Losers couldn’t care less if the dinner wasn’t perfect, they would just enjoy the time together, but she was still panicking.

Ben came up behind her, putting his hands on her shoulders, giving her a small massage.

“It’s perfect,” he told her, kissing her cheek, “they’ll just be happy to get some free food.” They both laughed as the door bell rang.

As they were making their way to open it, it changed to constant ringing of the door bell then someones hand pounding on the door.

“Let us in!” Ben and Bev heard Mike and Stan yell from the other side.

As soon as they opened the door they saw Richie shove handfuls of snow down Mike and Stan’s shirts. Bev covered her mouth to hide her smile as the two men screamed from the freezing cold. Richie was laughing so hard that he had no idea that Bill was coming up behind him with a handful of snow as well. He wrapped his arm around Richie’s throat, forcing the snow in his face before backing off, laughing.

“No! Why!” Richie shouted, spiting the snow out of his mouth, taking off his now blurry glasses. The moment Richie cleared off his glasses and put them back onto his face, he was met with a snow ball thrown by Eddie. “Oh, you are so fuckin’ dead, Tozier,” Richie said, picking up some snow, forming it into a snow ball.

Eddie panicked, not wanting to get hit with the dirty snow, so he ran behind Ben to use as a shield.

“Be nice to Eddie!” Bev said, folding her arms over her chest.

“Yeah, man, why do you wanna hurt Eddie?” Mike added, still trembling from the cold.

“Wh-” Richie started.

“Such an asshole, dude,” Stan added.

“What is with this attack on me right now?”

“Gotta be nice to Eddie, man,” Bill said, purposely bumping into Richie’s shoulder as he walked past him.

Richie saw Eddie give him the middle finger as he was making his way into the house with everyone else. Oh, yeah. He was so fuckin’ dead.

Everyone took off their snow covered shoes so they wouldn’t track any snow into the beautiful house. Everyone set the bags that they brought on the dining room table. Everyone showed what they brought for dinner; Bill brought cornbread, Stan brought wine, Mike brought pumpkin pie, and Richie and Eddie brought... brownies. Well, actually Richie baked them himself... well... he baked two different batches, making sure to leave... one... at home. Eddie had no idea what that was about, but whatever, it was something.

“It’s the only thing I know how to bake,” Richie said, slapping Mike’s hand away from the brownies.

“Since when do you bring brownies for Thanksgiving?” Ben wondered, trying to get under the lid of the brownies.

“Since... shut the fuck up or you don’t get any,” he replied, then slapped Ben’s hand away. “I guess if you don’t want them...”

Stan put a hand on Richie’s shoulder. “Thank you, Trashmouth.”

“At least someone appreciates me.”

The Losers moved into the living room, taking the time to relax from their long trip as dinner was finishing up. Ben, Bev, and Stan gathered on the couch, Mike took the reclining chair on the left of the couch, Eddie took the other chair on the right with Richie sitting in between his legs so Eddie could stoke his hair, and Bill sat on the coffee table.

They were talking, catching up on what’s been going on since they last saw each other. Well, there wasn’t too much since they had a group chat called Losers Club where they made sure they kept in contact. It was nice, but meeting up in person to speak face-to-face was even better.

“I saw your Netflix Special, Trashmouth,” Mike started, rocking back and forth slightly in the chair.

“Oh yeah? What’d you think?”

Mike breathed out a laugh. “You fuckin’ suck.”

Everyone playfully agreed, Eddie ruffling his husbands hair like he used to do to him when they were kids. He finally had the upper hand on him.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, you’re all fuckin’ critics. Thank you,” Richie said, waving a hand. “It’s probably better than Bill’s movies though.”

“Hmm... No... Bill’s stuff is better,” Stan said before taking a sip of his beer.

“Okay... cool, cool, cool,” Richie started, digging through his leather jacket pocket, some crinkling sounds came from it, “would someone who fuckin’ sucks have these?” He pulled out a baggie filled with rolled joints, holding it up for the Losers to see.

Eddie’s eyes went wide, smacking Richie on the side of the head lightly. “That’s why you didn’t want to fuckin’ fly!” 

“So smart, Eds,” Richie said with a smile, his head cranked back to look up at his husband. 

“Just like old times!” Bev said, fist bumping Richie who had opened the bag of joints. “Give it here, Trashmouth.” After taking a single joint out of the baggie for him, and maybe Eddie, Richie passed it over to Bev who took one before passing it along. 

“Absolutely not,” Eddie said, sitting back in his seat when his husband held up the joint to him. 

“I didn’t light it yet.”

“No.” The Losers started ganging up at him, trying to encourage him to at least take one hit. 

“What about the time when you smoked that cigarette?” Bill asked him, waiting for Bev to pass the lighter. 

“The time you what?!” Richie blurted out, not believing what he just heard. 

“Shut up, dude!” Eddie hissed at him. 

“You fuckin’ smoked a cigarette? When?!” Ben asked before putting the joint around his lips, taking a hit. 

“I remember that!” Mike blurted out, lighting up his joint. He took a quick hit, holding the smoke in his lungs before letting it escape. “It was you, me, Bev, and Bill.”

“I was tricked into doing it!” Eddie tried defending himself, but everyone groaned at his response. “I have asthma, I wouldn’t-”

“Oh, but you did,” Bev added after her hit. “I remember I had to help you put it in your mouth because it was the wrong goddamn way.” 

Mike started laughing. “Then he was too scared to light it.” 

“Well... looks like I have some new material for my next show...” Richie said as he took a long drag of the joint. 

“If you fucking put that in your show I will kill you, dude,” He said, flicking his ear lightly. 

“Just... try it!” Richie held it up to him. 

Eddie’s eyes went wide seeing a joint so close to his face, never in his life did he think that he would actually consider smoking pot. Well, his doctor had given him a medical card for it due to his high anxiety, but he’s never used it once, hell, he didn’t even pick up the physical card. In fact, he never told Richie that, knowing that he’d pay him to buy him some weed. Well... shit. 

He took the joint from him, taking a quick glance around the room, the Losers were watching him, waiting for him to take his first hit. 

“If any of you tell anyone I smoked cannabis-” 

“Call it weed or pot like everyone else,” Ben said, punching Eddie’s arm playfully. 

“...if any of you tell anyone I smoked pot I will fight you.” 

“Go! Go! Go! Go!” Richie chanted loudly, shaking Eddie’s legs, which spiked the shorter mans anxiety. “Up! Up! Up!” He reached up, grabbing Eddie’s wrist, guiding the joint in between his lips. 

Eddie was slightly resisting Richie pushing the joint at him. “Don’t you understand the health risks of smoking cannabis?!” He started, everyone was buckling up to try to understand his quick speech patterns that was about to come. “It can harm your lung tissues. Did you know your lungs can scar up? Because that’s exactly what’ll happen! All those blood vessels can get damaged and-” He was stopped when Richie managed to get the joint in between his lip. 

Eddie grabbed the joint in between his fingers, Richie let go of it, but kept his hand up by Eddie’s face, ready to grab the joint when he was done. He took a pretty long drag, longer than anyone had expected him to. 

“Whoa, easy, Eds,” Beverly warned. 

Everyone was telling Eddie that that was enough, that he needed to let it go. Richie took the joint from his husband, waiting for him let out the smoke, but he was holding it in his mouth. Mike, Bill, and Bev remembered a scene similar to this before; when they were fourteen he did the exact same thing when trying his first and only cigarette. Eddie started choking, letting all the smoke he was holding onto. His cheeks were heavily flushed as this point, tears were beading up in his eyes. 

The Losers laughed at him, Eddie held up his middle finger as he was trying to catch his breath, trying to stop coughing. 

“No more weed for you,” Ben said, reaching over to pat his back. 

“I-” Eddie paused, coughing up a lung, “agree,” he said coughing even more. 

“Proud of my boy!” Richie said with the joint in between his lips, reaching up to ruffle his hair. 

The Losers sat around in silence. Nobody was saying anything, not on purpose, but because they were all so stoned that they had no idea what was going on right now. Eddie had his back pressed against the chair, slouching. Even though he had one hit, it was a large hit and he’s never been high before, unlike the others, so he was up on Cloud Nine. Richie was playing with his fingers, making sure he was still alive as he lit up another joint. 

“What?” Bill asked the empty air, thinking that somebody had said something. 

Everyone glanced at one another, trying to figure out who said what. 

“What?” Bev asked him. 

They all started laughing for no reason. 

This is exactly what they all missed being around each other in real life. Just sitting around, talking, maybe smoking some pot, just enjoying each others company. They needed to do this more often. Well, minus the weed part; save that for special occasions. 

Everyone jumped when the oven from the kitchen beeped, letting Ben and Bev know that the turkey they’ve been waiting on was finally ready. The two high hosts grabbed each others hands, leaning against each other for support as they went into the kitchen. They kept giggling, turning off the oven before doing anything else so they wouldn’t forget later. Having the house burn down on Thanksgiving was something they didn’t wanted to happen. Ben put on oven mitts, pulling the turkey out, carrying it to the table where the rest of the Losers were slowly migrating their way over. Richie and Stan each had to grab Eddie’s arms, pulling him to his feet. He had to lean against Richie, who had to practically drag him to the table, pulling out a chair for him to sit. 

Mike and Bill helped Bev and Ben bring the food out to the large table. Stan was staring at the table, not particularly at anything, not being able to focus on anything. He did smell food, however, that eventually snapped out of it. Everyone else took a seat, Ben at the head of the table with Bev to his left, holding hands. Everyone was passing around the wine that Stan had brought. 

Bev giggled. “I want to make a toast,” she announced, holding her wine glass up, “to the Losers Club. Nothing or nobody can break us apart!” 

Everyone cheered, clinging their wine glasses together, taking a sip before digging in to their Thanksgiving meal. 

Everyone was laughing, talking again. They were still high as kites, but now that food was in the equation they were no longer like zombies, now everything was lively again. Richie kept cracking horrible jokes that didn’t make sense to anyone but himself; nobody was sure if it was because Richie wasn’t forming proper sentences, or if it was because they were so fuckin’ high and just couldn’t understand. He pressed his forehead on the table, his fork pointed at the ceiling that was holding a piece of turkey, laughing at something he didn’t say but rather was thinking. The rest of the Losers were laughing at him, having no idea what was going on. 

“We... we gotta do this more often,” Ben said, mixing his mash potatoes and gravy together, “y’know, not just on holidays.” 

Everyone agreed with him on that. 

“Once a month,” Mike proposed before taking a sip of his wine.  

Everyone could agree to that.

“Once a week,” Bill then said.

Again, everyone agreed to that as well. There was a pause between everyone before they agree that... no. Not once a week. Once a month would work better. 

“Once a goddamn month. You’ll all get sick of us,” Richie said, wrapping his arm around Eddie’s shoulders, whose eyes were wide as he had no idea what was going on as Richie pulled him close. 

“No... they’ll get sick of you,” Eddie corrected him once he processed what his husband said. “I’m the least annoying one here.”

“Bullshit!” Ben said to Eddie. “We have to listen to you talklikethisaboutmedicalthings,” he mocked, speaking as fast as he possible could. 

“Fuck off, bro.”

After sitting around eating for an hour, the majority of the food was practically gone, the pies were gone there was only one thing left. Richie’s brownies. At first everyone had insisted that they were too full to eat anymore, but Richie convinced them. They all sat around in the living room, back in their spots eating the brownies in silence. 

“Um... Rich?” Stan said out loud, inspecting the brownie he bit into. 

“Yeah?” 

“...is... are... are these pot brownies?” 

The Losers looked over at Richie, who was sitting on the floor in between Eddie’s legs.He stopped mid chew, looking at the brownie. They looked like normal brownies... the room smelt like pot for sure, but... He sniffed it, his eyes going wide when he realized his mistake. 

He got the pot brownie batch he made mixed up with the normal brownie batch. 

“Oh, fuck...” he said, looking up. “Um... my bad?” He said quietly with a shrug. 

That didn’t make a difference to the Losers, in fact, they started laughing at his mistake. They finished up the brownies, just because they might as well, right? 

Yeah. That was a fuckin’ mistake. 

Mike was the one who passed out first in the reclining chair, his head drooped back as he let out soft snores. Bill followed suit, laying down on the coffee table just to ‘rest his eyes,’ but ended up falling asleep the moment he shut his eyes. Ben and Bev fell asleep on the couch, Ben slouching on the couch with Bev in his arms, Stan had his legs draped across their laps, using the arm rest as a pillow. Eddie was whining about wanting to be held, so he and Richie switched spots on the chair that Eddie had been hogging; Eddie curled up on Richie’s lap, his head pressed against his chest, the sound of his heart beating put him to sleep. Richie was out the moment he wrapped his arms around his Eddie Spaghetti. 

They were all so fuckin’ high that they slept through the entire rest of the day through the night without as much as a sound. Nobody woke up, not even to get water or go to the bathroom. This was the best sleep that the seven of them had in years, who knew how great pot could be for sleep. It felt like old times when the Losers would spend the night at each others houses, staying up all night just enjoying each other until they all passed out. 

This was the best Thanksgiving any of the Losers ever fuckin’ had. 

#It #it chapter 2 #it fanfiction #It fanfic #the losers club #adult losers #it chapter 2 fix it #richie tozier #richie trashmouth #Eddie Kaspbrak #Bev Marsh #Beverly Marsh #Bill Denbrought #Ben Hanscom #Mike Hanlon #Stanley Uris #thanksgiving #oneshot #reddie #bev x ben #my fic #fanfic #fanfiction #benverly #tw: drugs #weed #marijuana #Stan is alive #I bend canon

[dicktective]

can someone please write the stenbrough ww2 fic that needs to exist?

all of the boys are drafted into the war and meet for the first time when they’re assigned to the same battalion or brigade or regiment or whatever. idk i don’t know a lot about war or even specific details about ww2 so just bear with me. i imagine they spend a lot of time in eastern europe or maybe france but i’m fine with wherever. whatever makes sense. ok stick with me here...

bill and ben are childhood friends. they leave behind, bev. bev writes to both bill and ben. at first bill loves writing lengthy letters back, describing everything in detail. after a while, when the patriotism starts to wear off and the realities of war start to set in, he writes less and less. until he just stops. ben, of course, keeps writing and bev asks after bill but eventually that stops too. bill had loved writing and the war took that from him

the boys are in the trenches, obviously. richie the comic relief, of course. he and eddie always bickering in the background. mike being the person that everyone trusts and listens to even though he hasn’t been promoted above them or anything. 

one night, when things have settled down and they’re all getting drunk, celebrating, stan and bill go back to the tent they share, ribbing each other about something, and they are about to go to their separate cots but they decide to have one more drink and stand too close together over their small make shift table. the lantern there sending flashing shadows across the canvas of their tent. bill leaning in closer to point something out on the label of the unopened foreign beer they somehow managed to get. looking up to see if stan recognizes the word (because he speaks a little french) realizing that they’re close enough to breathe each other’s air. stan frowning at the bottle, hand going around the neck to hold it still, fingers brushing against bill’s, when he looks over to bill and notices too, freezing. bill trying to set the bottle down without pulling his eye’s away from stan’s face and the bottle clattering sideways onto the ground and rolling away as bill’s hand grips the back of stan’s neck and pulls him in for a rough, drunk kiss. the lantern still flickering on the table as they move to one of their cots together.

it happens a few more times: drunk, sober. desperately when they have a few minutes alone. quiet and slow when they have a night before they’re moving again the next day. packing up their camp for something that has rumors going through the ranks that it’s going to get bad again.

(eddie dies as the war comes to a close. richie is never the same and bill wonders if maybe... maybe they...)

they go home and bill and ben go back to bev. and, when he had left, it was kind of assumed that he could come back and she and bill would get married. they don’t. one day he picks up a pen and piece of paper and he begins writing again... a letter. a few weeks later he receives one back from stan.

ben and bev get married eventually. bill and stan end up in the same city years later, just down the street from each other. both married, they reconnect but don’t pick up where they had left off in europe. lots of almost kisses, gentle touches, lingering looks. (essentially emotional infidelity tbh oop)

while stan is happily married to patty, they eventually get divorced because the strain of not having children is too much on their relationship. he and bill still write each other letters even though they see each other fairly often.

THEN? idk. maybe stan’s letters start to become explicitly romantic now that he’s divorced and bill realizes how unhappy he is in his marriage, triggered by that and by audra saying she doesn’t think he should waste his time writing a book when he mentions it’s something he’d like to do. on top of the handful of other things. idk. just give me a happy ending in spite of the time period.

#someone? anyone? #idk if i feel like tagging this or not lol... hm. #ok i will. #stenbrough #it #it 2017 #it chapter 2 #stanley uris #bill denbrough #stan x bill #bill x stan #stephen king's it #please make it 90k words long and feel like atonement in tone and longing and make me CRY

[joe-mazzello-archive]

The Strangers - Chapter One - Cold as Ice

A Joe Mazzello x OC fic

Word Count: 5.8k

Chapter Warnings: Language, alcohol consumption, sexual references

A/N: Here we go, gang! Please please please feel free to send me feedback/questions/theories. I want to hear from y’all! Also I do technically have a playlist for this series but since each chapter is a song title, the playlist is a bit on the spoilery side so I’ll wait until after it’s finished to link it. Also sorry that Ben is accidentally Barney Stinson. I needed someone to balance out Joe.

Joe shifted in the cold leather chair he sat in. He couldn’t help but fidget as he patiently waited for the door to the office across from him to open. He looked at his watch. 4:32pm. He’d been waiting for over ten minutes now, hoping that somehow his punctuality would make the meeting to go well.

His eyes wandered to the plaque next to the door. Theatre Arts Department Chair was engraved neatly into the gold metal. He couldn’t help but smile as he thought back to a conversation he had with Ben a week ago, before the meeting had even been scheduled.

“Mate, the fact that you’re not already the department chair over that old geezer is beyond me!” Ben had all but shouted through the crowded bar, swinging his mostly empty beer bottle around wildly. “I mean he doesn’t do shit! He sits at his big desk doing fuck all and takes a huge check home every month! You’re the one who really runs that department.” Joe threw his head back in laughter.

“Well last time I checked, he’s still got the title and I’m still a lowly professor. But I appreciate your enthusiasm, Ben,” Joe replied before finishing off his own beer.

“You should just take that shiny gold plate off the wall and hang it next to your office. See how long it takes that idiot to even notice!” Ben countered before waving down the bartender. Joe noticed and pushed his friend’s arm down.

“I think we’re both done for the night, dude. Besides, you’ve been so focused on me you haven’t even picked out your prey for the night,” Joe teased.

“Ey! Don’t call the women I sleep with and then never call again ‘prey’! I’m offended you think so little of me, Joseph,” Ben argued, before turning to survey the room.

The conversation seemed so long ago to Joe. What had started as a rant about how the department didn’t have enough funding to put on the shows he wanted to do led to a discussion about how Joe hadn’t received a raise in years. Ben urged him to setup a meeting with the department chair. The next day he found himself sending an email to his boss, asking to discuss the plans for the department for the next term.

A day after that, Joe regretted ever hitting send. In his inbox sat an email reply from the grumpy old man himself.

Sure. My office, Friday 4:30pm.

And there he sat, outside that very office, his knee bouncing the messenger bag that sat on his lap as he rehearsed in his head what he wanted to say to the man.

Finally, the door opened and Joe all but jumped to his feet.

“Mr. Mazzello, come on in,” the man growled, his deep gravelly voice giving the impression that he had a perpetual sore throat. Joe shuffled into the large office, eyes glued to the floor, heart pounding. He cursed himself for listening to Ben. He’s rarely listened to Ben before. Why did he start now?

The old man grunted as he sat down, his desk chair that had been there since the department was built squeaking underneath his weight. Joe took a seat in one of the dusty chairs on the other side of the large wooden desk. Clearly this office rarely saw visitors.

As the old man adjusted his tie and glasses, Joe took a moment to glance around the spacious office. The off-white walls were bare except for a few certificates framed behind the elder man’s head. A small bookshelf sat off to the side, the shelves half empty, with only various binders and knick knacks cluttering the spaces. In the corner sat a tall filing cabinet that looked like it hadn’t been touched in decades. The man’s desk was almost bare except for a laptop computer, a pile of papers, and one lone picture frame that faced him. Joe couldn’t help but be curious as to who’s face the chairman looked at all day long, considering the man had never married nor had children.

The room was the complete opposite of Joe’s chaotic office. Every bit of wall space in Joe’s office was covered in posters for previous productions, show programs, and framed photos of casts and crews from shows past. He hadn’t seen the actual top of his desk since his first year as a professor, every inch being covered in scripts and books.

“I believe you mentioned in your email that you wanted to discuss next term. If I recall correctly, I already approved next year’s season of shows,” the man said, his head cocked to the side as he stared at the young professor. Joe wrung his hands together as worked up the nerve to respond.

“Yes sir, you did,” was Joe’s simple reply, his voice shaky.

“Then what more needs discussing?” the man asked, somewhat incredulously. Joe took a deep breath, choosing his words carefully.

“This past term, we ran into roadblocks when it came to our budget for our productions. We wanted to do things that weren’t realistic when it came to what funding we did have. So I dipped into my own funds to make those things happen. And as a result, we put on some of the best shows the department has ever done.” Joe suddenly found a burst of confidence, surprised at how assured his statements sounded.

“I was unaware of this. Did you submit for reimbursement? That can easily be arranged,” the man replied, his demeanor softening at Joe’s words. Joe felt the energy in the room shift; as if Joe was now in control of the conversation.

“I honestly don’t think that’s necessary, sir. What I am asking for is that you find more in the department budget for our productions, so we can make these things happen with nothing to hold us back,” Joe proposed, the quivering in his voice completely gone now.

The man paused for a moment, processing what had just been asked of him. He turned to his laptop, squinting as he began to mash at the keyboard. Joe sat frozen, his confidence beginning to waver as he waited with bated breath for the old man’s reply. After what felt like an hour, but was probably no more than ten seconds, the man turned back to the auburn-haired professor.

“Consider it done.”

Joe’s eyes widened and he suddenly found it hard to breathe.

“Sir?” he squeaked out.

“I was extremely impressed with this past season. If you’re telling me you can continue to reach that level of quality and beyond, I see no reason to not expand the production budget,” the man continued. Joe couldn’t help but grin like an idiot, surprised at the response he had gotten.

“Thank you sir, we can absolutely do that,” Joe replied, nodding almost too eagerly. The old man turned back to his laptop, typing away once again.

“I’m also going to approve a 10% salary increase for you,” the man added before standing up and stretching out his hand.

Joe mirrored his actions, getting up so fast that the blood rushed to his head. He took the man’s hand and shook it vigorously.

“Thank you, so much sir. I don’t know what to say,” Joe spat out, realizing that he was probably shaking the man’s hand too long. Joe released the chairman’s hand, realizing his own hands were jittery with excitement.

“No need to say any more, I actually have another meeting in a few minutes. Enjoy the rest of your Friday, Mr. Mazzello,” the man answered, sitting back down and immediately turning back to his computer, as if Joe wasn’t even in the room anymore.

“You too, sir. Thank you again!” Joe crowed as he grabbed his bag and moved towards the exit. The man didn’t even look back up.

It wasn’t until Joe was back in his own office that he truly processed everything that had just happened. Not only did he successfully argue for more funding, he got a raise without even asking. He whipped out his phone, pulling up his friends’ group chat.

Joe: I MADE THAT MEETING MY BITCH Lucy: You kiss your mother with that mouth? Ben: you got the funding???? Joe: AND A RAISE Rami: I have no idea what we’re talking about. Lucy: Babe I told you, Joe was trying to convince the department head to give him more money for shows. Ben: fuck yeah mate!!!! Bevs tonight to celebrate??? Joe: I absolutely need a beer. Or several. Rami: I’m in. Lucy: I’m there too! Ben: as the kids say, let’s get TURNT Joe: Please never say that again.

And that’s how Joe found himself bar-hopping in the city with his three closest friends. After closing out the bill in bar number three, Joe was starting to pass the threshold between tipsy and drunk. He debated about calling himself an Uber, pulling up the app to determine how much one would be. But suddenly his phone was ripped from his hand.

“What do you think you’re doing? The night is so very young, Joseph,” Ben slurred, locking Joe’s phone and putting it in his own pocket. Ben swung his arm around Joe’s shoulders. “We still gotta hit up Sully’s!”

“I’ve heard that place is such a dive, Ben. Can we go literally anywhere else?” Lucy asked, swirling the last of her cocktail before downing it. Rami’s arms were wrapped around her waist while he slowly swayed to the background music playing through the bar’s speakers.

“How else are we gonna find a girl who’ll be interested in Joe?” Ben said with a shit-eating grin, squeezing Joe’s shoulder.

“Gee thanks, Ben,” Joe replied with an eye roll.

“Besides, an old mate of mine is one of the bartenders there. I’m sure he can hook us up with some free drinks or something,” Ben added, practically dragging Joe towards the bar exit. Lucy and Rami followed behind without further argument.

After stumbling four or five blocks, the group finally found the correct street. A neon red sign reading “BAR” hung above the door and the name Sullivan Street was etched in white letters on the window.

Ben led the group inside the almost full bar. Joe couldn’t help but scan the room, Ben’s comment rolling around in his head. Not that he had been actively looking before tonight, but it had been awhile since Joe had been with someone. Mostly because his work took most of his focus away. But with only exam week left before the summer began, Joe felt like he finally had time for something. Or someone.

His eyes darted around the bar as the group continued to follow the blonde Brit. Ben wove through the crowd to the stairs leading to the second floor. The upper floor was much smaller and definitely less crowded. A small bar with one lone bartender was tucked in the corner, while the room was littered with high top tables. At the back of the room was a small stage boasting an array of instruments surrounding a large drumset with the words Parkway Diner neatly painted on the bass drum.

Ben made his way over to the bar, the group close behind. The lone bartender’s face lit up as Ben approached him. While the two exchanged pleasantries and a handshake, the group took seats at the bar, Joe continuing to survey his surroundings. A female laugh rang out and drew his attention to one of the high-tops closest to the stage. The laugh belonged to a small woman with bleached blonde hair that she styled in a messy pixie cut. Her burgundy crew-neck sweatshirt contrasted against the sea of tank tops and t-shirts the other bar-goers wore. A shiny black color coated her nails; standing out against the pale skin of her hand that held her beer.

Joe watched as she clinked that beer with the three men surrounding her at the table. Joe was immediately intrigued by the woman, who almost looked too young to be in a bar. He watched as she pulled out her phone, glancing at the screen before shoving it back into the pocket of her black jeans. She raised her hand, seemingly signaling something to the men around her. They immediately understood whatever the message was, as they all simultaneously left the table and headed through a door next to the stage.

Joe suddenly understood. They were the band, and they had five minutes until their set.

But the woman remained, downing the rest of her beer. She turned and surveyed the room, almost the same as Joe had been doing moments before. All of a sudden, her eyes connected with his, and he found himself smiling.

But the moment was brief, as the woman just continued to look around the room, not even noticing Joe.

“Earth to Mazzello!” Ben’s voice rang out in Joe’s ear, pulling him from his trance.

“Sorry, what?” Joe replied, turning to face his friend.

“Gwil, this inattentive asshole is my coworker, Joe,” Ben said to the tall bartender.

“Pleasure to meet you, Joe,” the bartender greeted, stretching his hand out for a shake. “I’m Gwilym, but call me Gwil.” Joe shook the man’s hand, quickly noticing how much the bartender towered over him.

“Nice to meet you, too,” Joe answered before quickly turning his attention back to the high top by the stage. But the woman had vanished, forcing Joe’s focus back to his friends. “Is there a band performing tonight?”

“Oh yeah. Friday nights we have a seventies pop and rock cover band called Parkway Diner,” Gwil responded, wiping down an empty glass.

“They any good?” Ben asked, playing with a lime on the bar before Gwil swatted his hand away.

“Oh, they’re way too good to be playing here. Their drummer and lead singer is incredible,” Gwil replied before gesturing to the rest of the group. “Drinks anyone? First round is on me.”

Drink orders were taken as a distracted Joe’s mind couldn’t shake the image of the small blonde woman. He looked at his watch, hoping the five minute warning she gave the other men was up soon so she’d reappear.

As if on cue, the other bar patrons began to cheer as the woman and her bandmates entered the stage. The woman pulled two drumsticks from her boot as she found her spot at the drum kit. Joe watched her curiously as she fidgeted with a microphone that was at level with her face.

Before Joe could inquire more about the woman, a guitar riff pierced through the bar. The woman seemed unfazed as she joined in on the drums, the rest of the band following suit. The woman leaned towards the microphone, never missing a beat before singing out.

Now if you're feelin' kinda low 'bout the dues you've been paying Future's coming much too slow And you want to run but somehow you just keep on stayin' Can't decide on which way to go Yeah, yeah, yeah I understand about indecision But I don't care if I get behind People livin' in competition All I want is to have my peace of mind

Joe was entranced by the woman. Her voice was beautifully raspy and harsh, perfectly fitting the hard rock song. She belted every note with ease, all while she drummed away. Joe found himself hypnotized by her passion as she performed, each note and drum beat piercing through him. He felt a tap on his shoulder and a glass of beer was shoved in front of him. He grabbed it, his eyes not leaving the stage for even a moment.

Now you're climbin' to the top of the company ladder Hope it doesn't take too long Can'tcha you see there'll come a day when it won't matter? Come a day when you'll be gone, whoa I understand about indecision But I don't care if I get behind People livin' in competition All I want is to have my peace of mind Take a look ahead, take a look ahead, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

Joe was completely blown away. The woman’s fervor in her performance was intoxicating; she played the drums like it was the most important thing she could ever do. But the thing that Joe was most affected by was the woman’s absolute joy as she struck each drum and sang each lyric. She smiled and laughed, seemingly losing herself in the music. Joe was almost jealous; he wracked his memories, trying to determine if he’d ever been that happy in his life.

Now everybody's got advice they just keep on givin' Doesn't mean too much to me Lots of people out to make-believe they're livin' Can't decide who they should be, whoa I understand about indecision But I don't care if I get behind People livin' in competition All I want is to have my peace of mind Take a look ahead, take a look ahead, look ahead

She sang out the last lyric with such intensity, that by the time she stopped singing, Joe realized he had been holding his breath. The woman continued to beat the set in front of her, finishing the song by throwing her sticks above her head.

Joe hadn’t even noticed the crowd that had formed in front of the group until they roared with applause. Joe joined in, cheering and clapping for the performance.

“Holy shit, you weren’t kidding, Gwil,” Rami shouted over the crowd.

“Yeah, they’re the real deal,” Gwil replied before turning his attention to another patron.

The band played a few more songs for the continually growing crowd. Joe’s friends chatted away behind him, while his attention never left the stage. Despite the several drinks he had consumed since the night began, Joe felt sober as ever. He only knew one thing: he needed to meet the woman on the stage before him.

As each song ended, Joe prayed that it was the last, wanting nothing more than for the woman to return to her original high top so he could weave his way over to her. He wanted to be around her, hear her speak, ask her questions. He was so fascinated by her and he didn’t even know her name.

Finally, the desperate man got his wish.

“Thanks everyone, we’re gonna take a short break and be back in a little bit,” the guitar player announced through his microphone.

Joe’s eyes followed the woman as she squeezed past her drumset and the discarded instruments amongst the stage. And much to his delight, she headed right his way.

“Gwilly! The usual please,” the woman shouted before slapping both hands on the bar counter next to Joe, paying him no mind.

“Already got it ready for ya,” Gwil replied, handing her a mixed drink. “Oh, Mar, this is an old mate of mine, Ben. And these are his friends.”

“Gwil, you have a friend other than me? I’m proud of you, bud,” the woman teased before sticking her tongue out at him. Gwil flipped her off in response.

“I’m Lucy and this is my boyfriend Rami. You’re so talented!” Lucy gushed as she rested her hand on her heart. The woman chuckled before responding, the sound like music to Joe’s ears. He wanted nothing more than to make her laugh again and again.

“I’m Marley. And thanks,” she replied quickly before taking a sip of her drink.

“I’m Joe,” Joe added, unable to hide the huge grin that had taken up residence on his face. Marley simply nodded in response, seemingly uninterested in the group’s presence.

“Pleasure,” Marley responded coldly, turning back to Gwil and taking another sip of her drink. “Gwil, can you tell Paul the right amp is being weird again? I can still hear a tiny bit of feedback.”

Joe wanted her attention again, but the woman seemed more focused on the drink in her hand than anything else.

“Why can’t you tell him?” Gwil countered, pouring a beer for himself.

“He’s still mad I called him a cuntfuck, so he’s giving me the silent treatment,” Marley answered, before she downed the rest of her drink, slammed the glass on the counter, and headed back in the direction of the stage.

And just like that she was gone. The group was left speechless, with Joe caught up on the way she said “cuntfuck” so casually.

“Well she’s a friendly one, huh?” Ben sarcastically commented after a few seconds of awkward silence.

“Yeah that’s Mar for ya. She’s a bit rough around the edges. Took her months of playing here to finally warm up to me,” Gwil offered.

“Is she single?” Joe asked, his own words surprising him. He had been thinking it, but wasn’t planning on actually asking it. Gwil let out a deep belly laugh.

“Good luck with that one, mate. Like I said, tough one to crack,” Gwil said, continuing to laugh.

Joe furrowed his brow, put off by the man’s laugh at his expense. So she was not the most friendly person at first. Big deal, Joe had met people like her before. He had students who put up the same walls. He knew that under her hard shell, she was full of passion. He could tell by the way she lost herself in her music.

Joe knew he had to be patient. He knew people like that needed time to open up, to be vulnerable. He didn’t want to “figure her out”; he didn’t want to search through her soul and dig up her deepest insecurities. He wanted her to offer herself openly, to trust him enough to let down her walls.

Joe chastised himself for only saying two words to her, feeling like he fumbled their first meeting. But he wasn’t going to let that or Gwil’s reaction deter him.

Marley. Her name rang through his mind as he watched her return to her spot behind the bass drum, effortlessly twirling a drumstick between her fingers. The familiar intro of “Roxanne” by the Police rang out through the room. Joe spotted an empty high top closer to the stage, the same table the band had occupied before their first set. He made his way over to it, weaving through the droves of people singing along, leaving his friends and the judgmental bartender behind. He leaned on the table, nursing his beer as Marley and the rest of the band played their hearts out. Joe’s eyes centered in on the fiery blonde, watching every flick of her wrists, every arch of her back. She finished singing the first chorus and flung her head to the side, letting the music dictate her movement. She bobbed to the beat of the musical break, turning to survey the crowd.

And for the second time that night, her eyes locked onto Joe’s. This time he wasn’t grinning like an idiot. He kept his eyes soft, but his face almost completely neutral. Her stare lingered for a moment, narrowing her eyes and pursing her lips before turning back to the mic to start the next verse.

Progress, Joe thought. He only wanted to pique her curiosity in him, to even the playing field a bit. Marley had taken up so much space in Joe’s head already, he wanted her to wonder about him too.

The rest of the group eventually joined him at the high top as the night went on. Rami and Lucy swayed to the music and even sang along to some of the songs, with Ben more focused on the drunk brunette who had been hanging all over him for the past half hour. Every once in awhile, Marley’s eyes would meet Joe’s. Each meeting was like a duel, both parties challenging the other to look away. Joe won every time, having the advantage of not having to perform for a group of rowdy bar-goers.

After a few more classic seventies hits, the band finally finished their set to deafening applause from the crowd. Joe had to admit that Gwil was right about one thing, they really were way too good to be playing in a dive bar like Sully’s. Joe wondered if they played original music, filing that question away for when he actually got to have an actual conversation with Marley.

The three men each bowed while Marley simply gave the audience a half-assed mock salute before climbing off the stage and heading straight back to the bar. Joe stood up straight from the table, before an arm snaked around his shoulders.

“You ready to call it?” Lucy asked, resting her head against Joe. “Rami is seconds away from falling asleep. I think Ben fucked off somewhere with that girl so the three of us can split an Uber.” Joe glanced in the direction of the bar, the stools empty except for Marley, who appeared to be having a wildly dramatic conversation with Gwil.

“I think I’m gonna stick around, Luce. But thanks,” Joe replied, snaking his own arm around Lucy’s back to pull her into a side hug.

“Okay, text me when you get home so I know you’re not dead,” she added before peeling Rami off the high top.

“Will do.”

He patted his pocket and suddenly realized that Ben still had his phone. Well shit. He shook the thought from his head. He had more important matters to attend to.

Once the pair disappeared down the stairs, Joe began to make his way back over to the bar. He quickly downed the rest of his beer as he approached, giving him a reason to go to the bar other than the woman perched at it. Suddenly he was cut off by a hand landing on his shoulder.

“Hey, there you are. Where are the lovebirds?” Ben questioned, eyes darting around in search of the couple.

“They headed out. Where have you been?” Joe countered, shrugging Ben’s hand off.

“Oh you know, the bathroom,” Ben answered evasively. Joe then noticed the dark mark under Ben’s left ear and he suddenly understood.

“For fuck’s sake, Ben. Not even taking her back to your place this time? You just knocked it out in the bathroom of a shitty bar?” Joe teased, shaking his head.

“Hey, I offered, but the girl had no patience. I just gave her what she wanted,” Ben boasted. Joe rolled his eyes.

“What a gentleman,” Joe commented. “Can I have my phone back please?”

“So what are you still doing here?” Ben asked, slamming Joe in the chest with his own phone. Joe took the phone back and simply looked in the direction of the bar at the woman seated there. She was laughing at something Gwil had said, the sound carrying throughout the bar that was slowly emptying now that the show was over. Ben followed Joe’s eyes and understood immediately. “You trying to go for the drummer?”

“I just want to talk to her,” Joe admitted, his voice low.

“Well good thing your best friend is here to wingman for ya,” Ben offered, swinging an arm around Joe’s shoulders. Joe shrugged it off with a chuckle.

“Lucy is my best--”

“Shut up, let’s go,” Ben interrupted before heading towards the bar. He slapped his palms down on the counter, much like Marley had done before. He slid on the stool one away from Marley, giving Joe the opportunity to take the spot next to her. Maybe Ben did know what he was doing. Joe took his seat, briefly glancing to his right. He found Marley’s brown eyes glaring at him for a moment before turning back to her drink.

“Gwilym, another round for me and Joseph. The boy needs it,” Ben exclaimed. The tall bartender nodded before grabbing two glasses.

Joe pondered what to say to the woman next to him. He wanted to come off as cool and collected, not wanting to act like he was as engrossed by her as he truly was. He didn’t want her to think he was some slimy dude trying to get in her pants. He needed to establish himself as someone as intriguing as she was. Gwil handed him his beer with a nod and a knowing smile. He was onto Joe.

Joe pushed the bartender out of his head and leaned slightly in Marley’s direction.

“I’m sure you hear this all the time, but you’ve got a killer voice,” Joe offered, his own voice somewhat quiet so only she could hear him. He played the sentence back in his head. Was it too gushy? Was it too cliche? Suddenly his normal confidence when talking to women was disappearing. He was second-guessing himself. He found himself briefly glancing at Ben for his reaction, but the Brit was too wrapped up in a conversation with Gwil. He was on his own. Some wingman, Joe thought. But his trepidation was immediately sated by Marley’s slight chuckle.

“Eh, I don’t mind hearing it anyway. Thanks,” Marley answered, holding her drink towards him, almost as a peace offering. Joe smiled and clinked his glass against hers. They both took a sip of their respective drinks before Joe continued.

“It kind of begs the question, what the hell are you doing in a place like this?” Joe inquired, propping his elbow on the bar and his chin on his knuckles. Marley was unfazed by the question, giving a noncommittal shrug.

“Pays the bills,” she responded, fingers tracing the condensation on her glass.

“Why seventies music?” Joe asked. Marley finally turned to face him, crossing her arms and narrowing her eyes.

“You are just full of questions, aren’t you?” Marley challenged. Joe was unsure if she was genuinely annoyed or just playing with him. He decided to take the risk.

“How else are we supposed to get to know each other?”

“Who says I want to get to know you?”

“Well you haven’t called me a ‘cuntfuck” yet, so I’m taking that as a good sign.”

Marley threw her head back with a cackle, the sound reverberating through Joe’s chest.

“Touche, random guy, touche,” she finally said, arching an eyebrow. “You haven’t been a cuntfuck. At least not yet.”

“I guess there’s still time,” Joe added with a smile. “And it’s Joe.”

“Right. Joe,” she corrected, unfolding her arms and relaxing a bit. Joe was now close enough to notice that her maroon sweatshirt had small white text across the front of it. Squinting to try and decipher it in the dim lighting of the bar, he suddenly recognized the words. The infamous “to be or not to be” speech from Hamlet.

“Shakespeare, huh?” Joe pointed out, nodding his head in the direction of the text in question. “A woman after my own heart.”

Another deep cackle. This one a bit more forced than the last.

“Not in the slightest,” Marley responded with a smirk, patting Joe’s thigh and turning back to sip her drink. The interaction was confusing, her words like a slap in the face but her touch warming every inch of his body. Joe couldn’t let himself get caught up in the moment. He had to keep the conversation going, or she’d lose interest.

“So do you agree with Hamlet?” Joe asked. Marley cocked her head, clearly surprised by either the question itself or the fact that Joe wasn’t discouraged by her rejection. Maybe both. She turned back to the man, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Are you asking if I agree that the concept of death is scary? Or if I agree that taking one’s life is the most powerful thing one can do the combat the shittiness of living? Because both questions are pretty heavy-handed considering we’ve just met,” Marley argued, leaning forward to emphasize her point.

“Would you rather I ask about your favorite color or whether you prefer Coke to Pepsi?” Joe countered, arching an eyebrow. Marley paused, eyeing Joe up and down and pursing her lips.

“I would rather ask you a question for once, oh curious one,” she finally answered. More progress. He had her hooked. “So. Joe. What do you do? You know, other than pester random women in bars.” It was Joe’s turn to chuckle.

“I’m a theatre professor over at the college,” Joe revealed. Marley smirked and nodded.

“Oh, yeah. That explains a lot,” Marley commented, before finishing her drink. Joe folded his arms this time, leaning closer.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

Marley opened her mouth to respond, but Gwil appeared.

“Sorry to interrupt, but we’re closing up shop soon,” the bartender admitted, swinging a towel over his shoulder and handing Joe his bill. Joe glanced at his watch. 1:57am. He groaned, knowing his time with the woman was up.

“Well, this certainly has been...a conversation,” Marley declared, drumming her fingers on her thighs. Joe signed his bill with a smile.

“That it was,” Joe replied, before grabbing a cocktail napkin. He jotted down his number and slid the napkin towards Marley. She eyed the napkin with an arched eyebrow. “In case you want to banter with me again.”

Marley’s eyes flashed between Joe and the napkin a few times. Joe held his breath, hoping the bold move would pay off. After a few more seconds and another pursing of her lips, she snatched the napkin and stuffed it into her pocket. Without another word, she hopped off the stool and disappeared into the door next to the stage.

Joe finally let out the breath he had been holding, sliding off of his own bar stool. Ben nudged him.

“How’d you do? I’ll be honest, I was not paying attention whatsoever,” Ben admitted, as the two men began to make their way down the stairs and towards the bar’s exit.

“Yeah, I noticed. And I think it went well. I gave her my number,” Joe answered. Ben chuckled and shook his head lovingly.

“Mate, you’re supposed to get her number,” Ben countered as he pushed the front door of the bar open for the two of them.

“I figured she probably wouldn’t give it to me if I asked. So I put the ball in her court,” Joe said with a shrug.

A short Uber ride later, Joe found himself back in his own apartment. He sighed as he settled into bed, Marley still at the forefront of his mind. Everything about her was absolutely fascinating. She had a youthful radiance about her, yet she was hard and cynical. She performed with such love for what she was doing, but the second she was off the stage, she hated the world. Joe hadn’t met anyone like her before.

But for now all he could do was let his mind wander, and hope that he’d hear from her soon.

All he could do was wait.

--

Taglist: @hellysthings​ @queenspur​ @briarrose26​

#joe mazzello #joe mazzello x oc #joe mazzello fic #joe mazzello imagine #joemazzmatazz #ben hardy #rami malek #lucy boynton #gwilym lee

[itsanerdlife]

All I Have 5/15

Pairing: Biker!Peter Parker x Reader

**Reminder: I write ANDREW GARFIELD as my Peter Parker **

Warnings: Language. Parental abuse. Arranged marriage. Shitty parent. I Guess Boarder line cheating. Lying. Secrets. Sneaking around.

Your daddy has a plan for you. He’s a strict man, with a belt and gun. You know better than to stray from the path, from the rules he set out for you. You’re promised to a good man,but not much of a man. Secretly your hear beats for bad boy, biker Peter Parker. He’s been hounding you for a date, a ride on his motorcycle, for one word; yes. You keep turning him down, because if your daddy finds out about Peter, he’ll kill the both of you. But Peter isn’t backing down that easy. He knows what you want and he’ll get that yes.

Peter sat at the counter, watching you move around doing your closing list. It was comforting having Peter with you so late, but he was so distracting. The way he watched you and everything you did, you were practically sweating under his heated gaze.

“Darlin’, let me ask you something?” He glances down, spinning the sugar container in circles with his knuckle.

“Sure.” You nod, as you sweep the booths.

“Why Jesse Flounder?” He turns in his stool watching you move.

“His name is Folts.” You glance over at Peter.

“I know.” He smirks.

“Because,” you sigh “my daddy and his said so.” You nod.

“Arranged marriage?” Peter’s brow connects, his head tips slightly. You smile at the look on his face.

“It’s how our families do things.” You nod, slowly sweeping.

“Cause they’re old school?” He asks.

“Like Victorian style.” You snort. “My daddy would have my ass and yours if he knew about you and what you do to me.” You throw him a look over your shoulder. “My daddy doesn’t like when I wear jeans, or when other boys look at me in general.” He nods slowly, his expression is puzzled.

“So, it’s about the money?” He nods.

“Sort of.” You sigh. “Family name, promising future and backgrounds, and old family money.” You nod.

“You know if you married me, you’d give my last name meaning.” He smirks when your head snaps up, surprised.

Was bad boy Peter Parker, talking about marrying you? No that didn’t seem right, he must be joking with you.

“That so?” You snort.

“My last name is mainly the diner.” He shrugs. Your brow comes down as you stare at him. The diner? May and Ben Parker. Holy shit how had you never put two and two together?

“Wait, what?” You forget your sweeping, standing staring at him.

“Yeah, May and Ben, that’s my aunt and uncle.” He nods.

“I thought you were adopted.” You remember what little you knew about Peter, he was adopted, Howard was his adopted brother.

“I am.” Peter nods. “My parents died when I was a kid. My dad’s best friend and his wife adopted me. But I kept my last name and have always been close to May and Ben. They’re like a second set of parents to me.” He smirks.

“Holy shit.” You blink at him. “What else don’t I know about you?” You smile softly.

“Guess it’s your turn to ask.” Peter shrugs a shoulder grinning at you.

  She comes around the counter, leaning in on her forearms. A small smile on her lips, she’d already pulled her ponytail down, letting her hair spill over her shoulders.

“Why join a gang?” She clearly had been wanting to ask that question for a while.

“We’re not a gang.” He chuckles.

“What are you then?” She tips her head.

“Brotherhood. My adopted dad, Tony. He’s apart of it, They’re family, I grew up with a lot of the guys, the older guys have been around since my dad was a part of it.” He shrugs. “This town has one drunk sheriff and two moron deputies. So we pick up the slack, I guess.” She nods.

“So if I was ever in trouble?” She leans in, curiosity on her face.

“We’d beat the sheriff or his deputies to you.” His tone serious.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” She nods.

“You call Darlin’, doesn’t matter what time, doesn’t matter what it is. I’ll be there.” He nods. She gives him a small smile.

“Why do you call me Darlin’?” She asks, changing the subject to something with less serious undertones to it.

“Cause you remind me of one of those southern belles.” He smirks at her.

“I’m far from a southern belle.” She rolls her eyes.

“You just remind me of one. The sundresses, the manners, the way you talk. Besides I like it, it’s fitting for you.” He shrugs.

“I like it too.” She flushes pink quickly.

“You eighteen yet?” He keeps wondering why her daddy has her already in an arranged marriage. There had to be a reason, but he didn’t think she was eighteen just yet.

“One week before graduation.” She nods, disappointment on her face.

“Three weeks?” He does the math.

“Yup. Why?” Her head tips. He knew what she was thinking, but she was wrong.

“We could run away together.” His lips turn up at her.

“My daddy would kill us both.” Y/N snorts. Her fucking daddy wouldn’t be a problem if they ran off together.

“Your daddy doesn’t scare me.” He reminds her. She sighs, straightening up, running her hand through her loose hair.

“The day of my birthday I’ll have a ring on my finger, a wedding planned, and my children’s names picked out before cake is even served.” She looks rather heartbroken at the very thought.

“You want to marry him?” Peter asks.

She used the excuse she had a boyfriend for him, and she never seemed too excited to even see Jesse. He couldn’t imagine a modern girl being over joyed about an arranged marriage. The girl wasn’t even allowed to wear jeans, let alone date anyone else. Her daddy wanted her to have one man for the rest of her life. He wanted to be that man.

“No.” Her voice sad, just like the look on her face.

She wanted adventure and thrills, passion and sparks, Jesse Folts was more safe and boring, bland and uninteresting.

“You like when he touches you?” He leans in closer as she looks up at him.

“Not really.” She flushes as if she was supposed to be ashamed she admitted that out loud.

“You like when I touch you?” He smirks, she pinks a little more.

“Yes.” Her arm comes up, wrapping around her waist. The million dollar question once and for all, he was going to drop the bomb. He was going to convince her to give him that yes, and he was going to keep her drunk daddy away from her.

“You want to marry me?” He lifts a brow at her. Her eyes widen, her mouth falls slack.

Everything Peaches 8/23/18: @mo320   @all1e23 @izzy--lee @irepeldirt @alyssaj23 @elle88531 @allyp1023 @itsemmyb @joannie95 @kgbrenner @violinbetty @jade-taillia @sarahp879   @raquegp02 @rileyloves5 @flashfanfics @pigwidgexn @bfuckjames @pcterpvrker @bluebird214 @wandressfox   @amandab-ftw @henrietteoaks @bettercallsabs @queenforatime @lucifersnipnips @queenkrissy11 @averyrogers83 @destiel-artemis @paintballkid711 @freakingnerd99 @sweet-honey15 @mellxander1993   @geeksareunique   @spookygrantaire @petersunderroos @supernatural508 @mariekoukie6661 @futuremrsb-r-main @lovemarvelousfics @booktvmoviefangirl @supernatural-girl97 @justmeinthisworldblr   @nerdyandexhausted @supernaturaldean67 @xqueenofthecraziesx   @ssweet-empowerment @writingaworldofmyown @villainsaremorerelatable @ocaptain-mycaptainmorgan @crazy-little-thing-called-buck @teenagetragediesforeveryone   @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked   @stupendoussciencenaturepanda       @jamesbarnesappreciationsociety  

Peter Parker: @ariminiria   @dkpink123   @everthenerd @crayonwriting @bellamouse16   @paranoiadestroyah   @kiss-the-stars-goodbye

All I Have: @coley0823 @teller258316 @imcerealouslystevie @crumpets-are-better-with-jam

#Marvel #Peter Parker x Reader #Avengers #Peter x Reader #All I Have #MC Series #Marvel Fanfiction #Peter Parker AU Series #Avengers Fanfiction #Peter AU Series

[quatschmachen]

Driftwood

The 2020 arc continues!

Continuation of Sparks Masterpost

XXXXX

This was a two- step he didn’t know the tune to. Maybe more like a three and a half step, with him acting as the ringleader with two idiots who didn’t know their ass from their tail. It was a situation, granted, which he had created, but he hadn’t accounted for feeling like the third wheel of a chuckwagon.

He was glad for the darkling sky and the warm light of the fire, which gave him some space to let his face rest in the shifting shadows. If there was some level of hell where you slept with the people you were confused on how the hell to act and be with, with no escape at all, he certainly seemed to have invented it. He had purposely sat to the side, using Mac and Caroline as a love-strewn buffer to give himself some breathing space.

He had not at all thought that the two men he had been trying to get to “kiss and make up,” who had literally been moving like glaciers, would suddenly meet global warming and melt down into the spring. What the hell? He honestly thought all they would do was talk and decide to stop avoiding each other or hug it out. Fucking on top of the mountain had not been it.

On one level he appreciated that Edward took him seriously enough to disclose the necessary information, that there was no sneaking around or having affairs. Still he felt a little uneasy, there was a part of him that felt like he should be acting in a jealous possessive manner… and the fact that he wasn’t made him confused. Yes, he knew he had worked on that aspect of himself, and he had known Edward long enough that if he had never made up with Étienne he would be on some level sad for eternity, and he knew logically he could trust the other man, but but but.

But what about me? The small doubtful voice seemed to whisper. It was the one he tried to ignore, managed to put a lid on. Ignore and walk away. Keep corralled up in the farthest field of his brain.

Sipping on his lukewarm beer, he looked over to Edward and Étienne, who were sitting close together, but not too close, both conscious enough not to act like lovers quite yet. The conversation had turned to one of Mac’s tall tales. It was one of those tales where he seemed to have merged something from Ben’s never-ending vault with some original content, and managed to make it hilarious and unbelievable. There was no way that Mac had been out wrestling bears, but the details were entertaining.

Maybe the best resolution was to get drunk enough to pass out in the tent, so he could be oblivious to what decisions had to be made, he thought. Standing up, he walked over to the RV to grab another beer and was surprised when Caroline followed him.

“Did you need another beer?” he asked her as he unlocked the door.

“No,” she paused letting him root around in the cooler. He could tell she wanted to say something, and he took slightly longer than necessary, not really feeling up to a heart-to-heart conversation.

Behind them the others were laughing hard about something Mac had said, and as he pulled out his beer and shut the door, he looked towards his sister, who was backlit from the fire. He couldn’t read her face, and nearly jumped when she gently placed her hand on his upper arm.

“Honey, are you doing ok?”

“Yeah?”

The grip tightened.

“Mostly?”

“You seem sort of off, I know you don’t really want to cause a big scene, but I just wanted to check in.”

Calvin forced his face into a smile, “Shoot sis, I can’t be Las Vegas lights twenty-four seven, y’know.”

Rolling her eyes, Caroline huffed, “Usually while camping you’re snuggled up to Edward! But you’re not even sitting on the same log!”

“Thought I’d let him sit with his - - friend.” Calvin shrugged, “I get him most of the time, figured maybe he wanted some Étienne time or something.”

“I don’t know why, but I’m not buying it.”

“Caroline,” Calvin sighed, knowing that she was like a terrier when it came to these issues, and that she would not back off unless he gave her something. Glancing towards the group, his heart tightening as he saw Edward and Étienne’s heads bent together in some sort of private conspiracy, he decided to carefully plod out a half truth of sorts. “I’m just being a little insecure about Edward’s friendship with Étienne… they go way back, and I just sometimes forget Edward has a whole life outside of me…” The half truth was actually a truth. Probably for the better, he thought as his sister relaxed her grip.

Giving him a pat, she smiled, “If he breaks your heart, I know ways to make him pay.”

Calvin laughed, “Caro, it’s not that serious – anyway ain’t I supposed to be the one issuing threats with your big lug over there?”

Snorting, Caroline shook her hair out, “Please, Mac may not be book smart, but he ain’t an idiot. He’s smart where it counts… plus do you really see him breaking my heart?”

“No… most likely it would be you breaking his heart and him camping out in my basement crying into every alcohol and junk food imaginable.”

“That’s the ticket!”

“Caro! Can you gets us the guitar?”

“Sure thing, Piggy!”

Heading back to his spot, Calvin was surprised when Edward got up and disappeared. Looking over to Étienne, who was also looking over in Edward’s direction with slight amusement, he wondered what the hell was up.

As Mac settled in with the guitar, Edward appeared with his fiddle. He handed off a set of spoons to Étienne, and then spent a moment tuning.

“Any requests?”

“How about Old Town Road?” Calvin joked.

Giving him a steady look, Edward raised an eyebrow and looked over to Mac, “Sure?”

Not realizing that Edward would actually take him up on it, Calvin was entertained when after a few tentative strains, Edward actually managed to get it, with Mac in the background playing, and finally, after a few bars, Étienne joining in on the spoons. Calvin begun to sing, taking up the challenge Edward was throwing down to him, as he slapped his thigh to keep rhythm, and before he knew it with Caroline on the harmonica, they had moved onto other songs, the mood mellowing between them.

Edward continued to subtly challenge him, choosing songs to play that he knew would purposely provoke him, a slow tease in music, enough to make his heart race. Edward also would change the rhythm, his eyes locking onto Calvin’s as with a smirk he did a slight arpeggio, attempting to throw Calvin’s singing off. However, Calvin kept up, counter balancing Edward’s playing as he knew the songs well enough to not just sing them straight. Despite the flirtatious playing, Mac, Caroline and Étienne managed to keep the rhythm, their sound gelling together. He barely noticed as the evening grew cooler, the heat from the fire dying down as he sang along to the songs, their voices joining in various levels of harmony – not production worthy, but good enough.

As he struck the last note, Edward lowered his bow, making a face, which Calvin knew meant “fingers cramping” and that he would end up being the one to rub his hands. His stomach twisted as Edward glanced at Étienne, and he worried that he had miscalculated. Was that going to be Étienne’s job now too?  His stomach unclenched as Edward crossed the short distance between them and sat on the log next to him. Carefully he set the fiddle and bow down, and then held out his hands expectantly in front of him. Wordlessly, Calvin took one of the hands and began to massage it.

“God, I haven’t played that long in a while,” Edward lightly complained, “I would have continued on, but the quiet time is 11… and I realized its 11:30.”

Calvin’s massage had moved up Edward’s arm to his shoulder where he knew the greatest strain tended to be. Edward relaxed into his touch with a happy sigh.

“Geezus dat late already, Chucky boy?” Mac stood up, stretching as the guitar lay strung across him. “Guess it’s time for me and Caro to hit the hay. Lotsta see tomorrow.”

As Caroline and Mac drifted over to the RV, Calvin worked on Edward’s other hand.

“Shoot I gotta pop the fiddle into the truck while I still can,” Edward muttered as he pulled away from Calvin. “Then I guess washroom and bed, eh?”

“Euh…  yeah sure.”

Watching Edward jog over, Calvin cast a sidelong glance over to Étienne who was decidedly not looking happy. The fire was dying out, and realizing it was best to fully kill it, Calvin pitched the water bucket onto it, the coals hissing in displeasure.

Except it wasn’t the coals hissing, he quickly realized, but Étienne hissing. His eyes were still adjusting to the dark, but he could make out the huddled form of the other man clutching at his arms.

“Hey, are you ok?” he asked setting down the bucket and carefully stepping toward the other man.

“No!” Étienne stood up, looking around frantically, “Where are our clothes again? I’m fucking freezing.”

“Oh! Yeah, let’s go to the washrooms and get ready for bed.”

“I mean I need clothes now,” Étienne seriously replied, “What temperature is it? Minus ten?”

“No,” Calvin replied amused, “More like eight.”

“Eight?! In August-” Étienne paused, then let out a breath, “I think I mentally blocked this part of your province from my mind for my own sanity.”

“Blocked?”

Étienne had subtly moved closer to Calvin, his body brushing against the other man’s no doubt in an attempt to acquire more body heat.

“Crunchy grass in August,” Étienne muttered the words out as if they were an ancient Latin curse meant to summon a demon from the seventh tier of hell.

“C-crunchy grass?” They had reached the tent where their stuff was, and Calvin unzipped it, grabbing the toiletry bag. “Did you wanna change in the tent or in the washroom? Are you uh – gonna shower?”

“There is no way in hell that I am going to shower, that’ll make me feel even more cold.” Étienne grumbled, “I’ll change in the tent. Is my toothbrush with your stuff?”

“Yeah.”

“Wait for me.” Étienne climbed into the tent and zipped up the door. There was rustling, and some cursing.

“Cal…”

Calvin jumped slightly as he realized that Edward had caught up to him.

“Why are you staring at the tent? And – why is it cursing?”

“Étienne’s changing,” Calvin explained, his free hand instinctively moving over to gently rub Edward’s shoulder.

“Isn’t he showering?”

“He said something about crunchy grass? I guess not?”

“Hmmm, well I need a shower at least… why are we waiting?”

“He asked me to wait.”

“…When I ask you to wait you just tell me it’s going to be a race.” Edward lightly accused.

“It works, doesn’t it?”

“If your thumb wasn’t feeling so good in my shoulder I would punch you,” Edward sighed.

Their attention was brought to the tent as the door unzipped, and Étienne tumbled out wrapped in thick sweatpants and a long sweater. “Changing in the dark is terrible.” He grumbled. “Let’s hurry up so I can get warm.”

“Yeah but let’s get our clothes to change,” Edward responded as he dove into the tent, knowing exactly where he had packed his and Calvin’s pajamas. Popping out in under two minutes, he zipped the tent back up triumphantly, the clothing and wash bag tucked under his arm.

Étienne’s pace was brisk, with Calvin easily keeping stride. Edward was half a step behind as they went to the communal washroom. The caged lights were covered with the struggling bodies of moths trying to touch the burning bright, the bugs swarming around the brilliance, not paying attention to the trio of men pushing through into the washroom.

The brilliant fluorescent lights blinded them momentarily as they opened the door, the smell of disinfectant, plastic and that forever camping washroom smell that permeated every variation.

Mac was zipping up his toiletry bag and nodded to them as the set up shop at the sink. “G’night guys, see you tomorrow, hey?”

“Yeah, goodnight Mac,” Edward replied, as the other two simply chorused a goodnight.

Calvin efficiently handed out toothbrushes, along with the toothpaste. Tiredly, in almost a sleepy synchronicity, they scrubbed. The bright light blanched their reflections in the mirror, and as they spat in the sink and completed their ablutions, it was almost… comfortable.

Washing their faces and putting the toiletries away, Calvin took his stuff from Edward and disappeared into the change room. The floor was still damp from someone else’s shower, and he eyed the curtain wondering if it was one of those pay showers – the one where it’s like a dollar a minute and which only spouted cold water. Undressing, he stepped into the shower and let out a sigh of happiness as he realized it was not pay. He heard Edward in the next stall over turn on the shower, he did the same and let out a small yelp as ice cold water hit him. He felt unmoored by everything and half of him wished he had been bold enough to ask Edward into the shower with him. Too shy with Étienne sitting right out there waiting for them, making sounds of impatience – sounds as if he was about to freeze to death while waiting. Plus, every word said would echo in the shower, this was not the best place for intimacy. Unwillingly his mind remembered Edward’s tease about fucking Étienne in the shower, and he frowned wondering how the logistics of that would work out, before he quickly decided he probably should not be mentally visualizing this. It was a situation he was not invited to.  

On the river with the fresh turmoil of spring, when he took those long walks with Edward through the freshly budding canopy, he remembered watching the broken logs float upon the silty brown waters. He had wondered aloud to Edward at the size of a particular log, the limbs broken and smoothed down from its tumultuous journey, and Edward responded most likely it had come from the mountains. The journey down incline across prairie to appear at that moment before them, a journey that would continue until inevitably the log would wash up somewhere. A somewhere where it could be in someone’s way, or perhaps come to rest and rot gently in piece or perhaps become the home to someone or something. Endless possibilities, but whatever happened to the log it was away from its place of birth.

He had read an article about how trees had feelings and built networks to support each other, where trees would keep the stump of a dead friend alive by feeding it nutrients. It was one of those internet articles which you read and contemplate, not truly believing the claims, but which stuck in the back of the mind, emerging now and then in a pleasant haunting. Torn away from networks and home, he half wondered if the wooden carcass would have a memory of life, or if it had been so leeched of whatever plant sentience it had that as its body bobbed down the river, there was no need to mourn.

At the moment Calvin felt like that log, torn up by the roots by forces outside of his control and bobbing along to an unknown destination.

The soap got into his eye and he blamed that for the stinging sensation, it was simply that and nothing else. He just wanted some goddam alone time with Edward to really process, to really connect, but at the moment for the upcoming few days that was unlikely to happen unless he… kidnapped his boyfriend or something. Turning his face up into the water he let it run down his face and chest, working to numb the turmoil in his chest.

What’s done is done, he thought as he turned the water off, the horse has left the barn and is literally in a different province at this point.

Goosebumps spread across his skin as he toweled himself off, feeling clean but cold as hell.

Perhaps Étienne had been right to not shower before bed, he thought as he finished changing. Carefully folding his clothes up, he ran his fingers through his damp hair and gave himself a tiny pep talk. It was going to be fine. Everyone was going to sleep and Étienne would kindly not snore.

Exiting the stall, he looked over to Edward who was leaning against the sink, talking to Étienne. Edward’s hair was slicked, and he was wearing his old thick Oilers hoody and matching sweatpants. Étienne was pouting as he was touching Edward’s damp hair in disapproval.

Edward looked over to Calvin, and grinned, “Took forever, didn’t ya?”

“Aw fuck off,” Calvin grumbled as he walked towards them.

Lightly punching him in the arm, Edward said “Manners, McCall.”

“Manners, McCall,” Calvin imitated, earning himself another punch – which he dodged as he nimbly pushed through the door into the dark night.

Edward gave chase and gave a whoop as he reached Calvin and grabbed his arm, forcefully linking them. “Why you being a little shithead?” He let out a small groan and rubbed his lower back, “Running is a regret.”

Hearing Étienne behind them, Calvin simply tilted his head and raised one eyebrow.

“You guys nearly forgot your toiletry bag!” Étienne huffed as he caught up.

“Hmm? I just knew you would get it, sweetie,” Edward responded as he reached out with his free arm and grabbed Étienne’s hand.

Étienne’s mouth opened once, twice, as he attempted to find words, caught the eye of Calvin, and shut his mouth deciding not to respond.

As they reached the tent, there was a momentary pause, and then Edward suggested, “I sleep in the middle?”

There was agreement, and as they climbed in Edward snuggled up into the middle, as Calvin plopped on his right side and Étienne on the left. The air mattress wheezed slightly as they settled in.

Giving Edward a kiss, Calvin closed his eyes, willing sleep to take him. He heard Étienne give Edward a goodnight kiss, his stomach feeling a little odd about that, his emotions still not quite stabilized.

He was drifting off when there was movement on the other side, and then a whimper.

God they weren’t, were they? He thought, his eyes popping open in annoyance.

“Eddy…” came the soft whine.

Edward sighed. “Mmm?”

“I’m… cold.”

Calvin could sense Edward turning to look at him, so he immediately shut his eyes and pretended to sleep, curious as to how this would play out.

“Cold cold?”

“My ass is cold, there’s like a breeze.”  Étienne’s voice was one reminiscent of a small child.

“Hmmm, I suppose we should move you to the middle… Cal?”

Calvin simply grunted.

“I’ll take that as approval then.” He felt Edward give him a small kiss on the cheek, and then a gap in warmth, and shuffling, until he felt Étienne beside him, snuggled up tight in the middle.

“Is that better, Teddy?” Edward murmured.

The only response was the even breathing of the other man.

Calvin’s false sleep was disturbed as he was unable to contain his question, “Wait, did you just call him Teddy?”  

Edward snorted, “Mmm yeah.”

“How many nicknames do y’all have for each other?”

Étienne sighed, and turned away.

“Uh – I dunno like at least five,” Edward responded.

Calvin was quiet for a moment contemplating, “So like can I call you two my two teddies?”

Étienne groaned in response, as Edward snorted. “Calvin and the Teddies sounds like a band.”

“Teddy One wants y’all to shut up and move in closer so I don’t freeze to death,” Étienne grumbled.

“How are you still cold?” Calvin asked as he shifted so that instead of laying beside Étienne he was more snuggled up.

“Don’t try to divine that answer, Cal,” Edward responded, “Étienne’s body works in mysterious ways. Fairly certain he is part cryptid.”

“Only part?” Étienne cheekily responded, which had them giggle.

“Honestly if I were a cryptid I would probably be a Sasquatch,” Edward confessed, “Live in the mountains all the time and not have anyone bug me.”

“I’d be Mothman,” Calvin added in.

“Why Mothman?”

“He’s so cool!”

Étienne snorted, “Please Calvin, wouldn’t you be a centaur.”

“Uh Étienne, I don’t think you quite understand what a cryptid is.”

“Is there a horse one? Cuz that’ll be you.”

Calvin hummed as he tried to think of one, “I don’t think so.”

“I swear I just read an internet post about one last week,” Edward murmured. After giving a frustrated sound, he then added, “But fuck me, can’t remember it.”

“Well he’s that one you can’t remember.” Étienne decided.

“So cryptid, doesn’t even have a name,” Calvin joked.

He was silent a moment, and then, began to hum.

Edward growled. “Calvin Brisebois McCall I swear to god-”

“Mothman! You’re a moth and a man,” Calvin began to sing aloud to the YMCA theme. Beside him Étienne made a sound of surprised laughter, while Edward wriggled so he could glare at him better.

“I swear if you’re going to continue –”

“I said Mothman! You’re a man who’s a moth-”

There was an eruption of action as Edward lunged across Étienne to attempt to strangle Calvin. It resulted in all their limbs tangling, with Edward laying half across a rather squished Étienne, Calvin working to wiggle out of the grasping hands as he continued to sing. However, Edward’s actions were hampered somewhat by Étienne, who was holding back one of his arms, as he began to hum the tune in harmony with Calvin’s singing.

“Boucles!! How could you betray me-” Edward exclaimed as the two men began to chant “M-O-T-H”

They continued to chant M-O-T-H until Edward, his struggles long turned into gasped laughter, gave in and began to mumble the lyrics to this stupid song Calvin was singing. Étienne didn’t know all the lyrics, supporting vocals, and then got inventive by creating verses which hadn’t even existed.

“Mothman! He swam the sea of Japan!” Étienne sang, Calvin cracking up beside him.

He then sang a different verse in French, barely able to get through it due to laughing at how funny he was, and then at the end mumbled to Calvin “I know you didn’t understand but it’s much funnier in the original language.”

To which Calvin responded “I got some of it-”

And Edward deadpan responded, “I know French and it wasn’t that good.” Which earned him an elbow in the side.

“Come on Neddy show me if you can do better,” Étienne challenged.

Huffing, Edward finally joined in making up some ridiculous lyrics, “Mothman! Annoying as you can-“

“Edward that doesn’t even make sense!” Calvin interjected.

“I just – let me finish!”

This went on for some time as each tried to top the other with more and more ridiculous lyrics, until finally, in what felt like an eternity, with Edward nestled on Étienne’s chest, the singing wound down.

They would be silent, until someone would start whispering some of the lyrics, and they would giggle, or join in. Edward made to shift off of Étienne, only to be trapped there by an arm firmly wrapped around his waist.

They all laughed slightly, and then let the silence of the night surround them. It was that mountain silence, where the wind rustled in the trees and you hear the night creatures scurrying. The type of sound where the crunch in the distance could either be a bear or someone heading to the washroom. The calming sounds as Calvin found himself gently lulled to sleep, his worries slipping away, as he felt Étienne shift next to him, his body warm. He half wished he was next to Edward, not entirely sure as to the boundaries of touch with this other man, and he nearly let out a small scream when he felt a hand ruffle his hair. Managing to keep it in he turned into the touch and realized it was in fact Edward.

With a sigh he peered in the gloomy darkness across Étienne to see Edward looking over at him with a sleepy smile, and his heart began to beat in rhythm again. That warm rhythm that seeped down into his stomach and down into his toes. Tilting his face enough he gave Edward’s wrist a small kiss in response, as his view then became obscured by a mass of curly hair as Étienne shifted once again, breaking their connected touch.

#quatschfic #2020 #pc: calgary #pc: edmonton #pc: montreal #pc: ft mac #pc: fort mcmurray #pc: bowness

[bisexualklausmikaelson]

If you don't mind, could you write something for klayley based on/inspired by the song Blue by The Neighbourhood?

B.L.U.E – Beyond Love, we are the Universe, Endless

a/n: post-series au/or what ifeveryone came back to life as humans

―

ek. (read my mind ―)

Elijahbuys a piano. 

It’sa stupid expense - they don’t have the kind of luxuries of being originalvampires anymore, they can’t afford to be so foolish when the four of themlived in this dingy little apartment. But, fuck it.

Hewanted a damn piano. 

And,with only a handful of years ahead of him, Elijah Mikaelson decided that he’drather be a musician than a sad old man.

Sohe did just that.

― 

do. (got me at a stop l i g h t.)

Hopehas simpler desires these days.

Shecan finally think about both her parents without cringing about one not talkingto her or the other one being dead. And in truth, after all she’s been through- being human felt good. Her entire life, she’d wanted to be normal.

Andnormal she got.

(Shewas 18, and she no longer worried about monsters, or witches, or heck, evendragons. Hope looked at University applications, got drunk at bars with herfriends, worked at a coffee shop as a barista.

Shecame home each night and crawled into bed while binging a bunch of shows onNetflix. It was the most mundane and uneventful evening she’s had in years.

Andshe loved every second of it).

― 

teen. (call me up for comfort)

Hayleyadopts a black cat.

Hestarted showing up right after Hope had gotten accepted into University. Atfirst, she just offered the stray little thing some water, sometimes scraps ofleftovers. Then, eventually, the cat started sleeping in front of her door.

Hayleypicks it up and realizes that he’s not completely black - he’s got a small tuffof white hair right under his chin, shaped like a half moon. It’s eerily reminiscentof her birthmark.

It’sat that moment that she decides that she’s going to take him in.

― 

char. (― baby, it’s already been a long n i g h t)

Klausgoes to the movies.

It’sbeen almost ten years since the last time he took the time to actually watch adamn film. You know, getting chased around by the undead, by his insane father,by his reckless mother - it took a toll on his hobbies.

Hegrabs popcorn with extra butter, an over expensive fizzy soft drink thatbubbles inside him and a pack of Maltesers.

(Heeven stays after the credits).

―  

paanch. (you leave me b.l.u.e.)

Thetwo of them lied in bed, silent for a moment.

Theroom is dimly lit - soft jazz plays in the background. Hayley wraps herself incrisp white sheets, inhaling Hope’s lingering perfume that stained them. Shemisses her so dearly, wonders if she does the same with her old leather jacketthat still smelled like the bayou.

Klauslies on the opposite end of the bed, staring up at the ceiling.

“It’sweird isn’t it? With just us here,” Hayley suddenly blurts out.

Heturns to meet her gaze. She was finally looking the part of the mother of afully grown adult. Wrinkles at the ends of her eyes because she smiled toomuch, a few strands of silver hair creating a unique stripe down her mane, amature beauty in her, sophistication. Time had caught up with the both of them,with their humanity back, it was clear. 

Theywere in their forties. 

“Well,we all knew Hope would leave,” Klaus finally says. “She’s eighteen, she wantsto be independent,” he explains to her.

“I’maware of that,” Hayley snaps.

Ittakes him too long to realize the obvious.

“You’retalking about ‘Lijah,” he judges, by her snippy tone. Her silence givesaway the rest of it, and Klaus can connect the dots from there. “Mybrother is a very complicated man, love,” he quickly says, attempting torecovering what is lost.

Elijahhas left nothing but one of his old Armani suits hanging in the back of thecloset. The scent of Paco Rabanne 1 Million lingers on it. It had only been afew weeks since his disappearance. Mostly, Elijah had been worried about howlittle time he had left on this planet.

Howhe could no longer bare to just sit there in Mystic Falls and die there, again.

“Ishe ever going to come back?” He doesn’t know what to say to her. All he knowsis this: the girl from his brother’s dreams is lying  here beside him, voice trembling, and eyessearching for any semblance of hope, that someday, her love shall return.

Andso, Klaus can’t help himself.

Hethrows the girl a bone.

“Foryou?” he hums, smiling. “Quite certainly,” he whispers softly.

Shedoesn’t like this side of him. For some reason, he is too vulnerable, too weak,too sensitive and aware of how his words affect her.

Itmakes her want to roll her eyes – makes her wonder where the old Klaus went.

“Don’tlie to me,” she orders him. “Not about this,” Hayley firmly says.

Heleans his head against hers, sighing heavily.

“I’msorry, little wolf,” Klaus releases, just before she bursts out in to tears.

― 

che.(stuck inside your cage)

Shecries for exactly four days, and on three of them, he brings her a warm drink.

Onthe last day, he takes her out.

(Sheleaves behind the steaming hot cup of lavender and licorice infused tea, tugson his sleeve as he guides her towards the closest convenience store).

―  

saath. (s o m e t hi n g  inside me is swimming )

They’reon the swings with bowls of ice cream in hand.

“Foodtastes so much better as a human,” Hayley exhales, smiling for the first timethis week.

“Athousand years, and I never thought I’d say this. But I really did miss thetaste of mundane Ben & Jerry’s,” Klaus scoffs, taking a large spoonful ofchocolate ice cream.

“Mundane?”she repeats, sounding shocked. “Someone’s fancy,” Hayley giggles.

Shedoesn’t say much else after that – she eats her pistachio ice cream, watchesthe other children in the park run around the jungle gym, swings slightly andtaps her feet together.

(One,two, three―

Andshe is home).

“Iwonder,” Klaus interrupts her thoughts. “What does one do with only ahandful of years left?” He asks, half-serious and half-curious.

“Idon’t know,” she stammers, biting on her bottom lip. “But this date is anice start,” Hayley blurts out, thoughtlessly.

Hercomment catches him off-guard. He’s known her for so long, and yet, she remainsunpredictable. “This is…a date?” Klaus questions.

Shewidens her eyes. She hadn’t even realized that she’d said those words.

“Sorry,” Hayleywhispers, almost too quiet for him to hear. “I wasn’t really thinking when Isaid that,” she goes on to tell, sounding flustered. Her cheeks burn bright redand they are warm. Why in the world did she have to call this a damn date?

“Italright sweetheart,” he quickly replies her to calm her down. Instead, Klaussmiles, like nothing ever happened. “No harm done.” he shrugs and, thistime, the cards play in his favour.

Forshe is relieved.

―           

aath. (beyond love― ).

“Klaus,”She quips, as their both on their way home that evening. It’s a bit chilly, soat some point, he had draped his jacket over her shoulders. It doesn’t stop herfrom tugging at his sleeve again, as if she is frail. “I want to ask yousomething,” Hayley says, tugging harder.

“Goon,” he replies.

Shelooks down, with a sad gaze. “Why haven’t you left yet?” Hayley asks.

Hepauses, not too sure what to say next.

“Whatdo you mean?” Klaus questions her instead.

Shebegins her sentence with a sigh, which is never a good thing. “Everyone’s ontheir own path. Hope with her studies, Elijah is god-knows-where. Rebekah withMarcel, Kol and Davina, Freya and her family―”

“And where exactly do you think I would go,sweetheart?” he cuts her off then, mostly because he doesn’t want to know whyshe wants to push him away this time. When right now, she is all that he hasleft.

“I don’t know,” she releases, nervously. “ToCaroline maybe? She is still around, you know?” Her voice shakes as she speaks,almost as if she’s afraid to face the truth.

Everyoneleaves her.

Klaus feels everything rush in like a storm – thesound of the young vampire’s name could make his world shake still, even afterall these years. “Caroline is going to live forever,” he admits to her. “Icouldn’t bare to have her watch me die again,” he’s honest with her, and sheappreciates that. Even if his answer isn’t the most sympathetic thing.

“I see,” Hayley nods. “Is that they only reason whythen?” she pushes for more though, because truthfully, she’s always craving forso much more. Klaus had left her starved from his empathy, so many timesbefore. It was only natural for her to hunger for him. To ache for his words.

She’dalways been a greedy woman.

“Little wolf,” he whispers, like she’s still thatyoung girl in her twenties that he hooked up with – like she’s still naïve. “Youand I have been through everything together,” he reminds her. “No one canreplace that,” Klaus finally announces.

She doesn’t tell him that his words feel likesalvation.

―

nau. (universe, endless)

(Sheunderstands how irreplaceable he truly is the morning she is waking up to thesmell of pancakes, a cup of coffee left by her bedside, soft rock music playingon the radio―

and their old lives are worlds, worlds, worlds away).

― 

#klayley #klaus mikaelson #hayley marshall #to #the originals #munea writes #klayley fanfiction #klayley drabbles

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Long-Distance Call- Part 2

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 2,528

Warnings: Typical Supernatural violence, language, angst, blood, you know the usual

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. Any and all comments on these are appreciated. I really want to hear what you guys think about this one!

Feedback is the glue that holds my writing together.

Tags at the bottom

Later on, back at the motel room, Sam was sitting on the bed, done with his part to find out where the phone number came from. Dean was on the laptop, trying to figure out who Linda was, or is. You, on the other hand, were beat. You sat next to Dean and with your head on his shoulder, watched him browse the internet for Linda. Sooner or later, he found her.

“Did you find her yet?” Sam asked, half laying on the bed while the TV was playing in the background.

“Yeah, Linda Bateman. She and Ben Waters were high school sweethearts.”

“So, what happened?”

“Drunk driver hit them head on. Ben survived she didn’t.” You answered for Dean.

“So, what then? Dead flame calls to chat?” Sam asked, sitting up and turning off the TV.

“You would think, but Linda was cremated. So why is she still floating around?” Dean asked, sighing as he leaned back. You slid your hand down his arm and grabbed his hand, sliding your fingers through his. He looked over at you and pressed his lips to your forehead before looking at his brother.

“You got me.” Sam sighed.

“What about caller ID? Anything?” You asked.

“Well, turns out, it’s an actual phone number.”

“No phone number I've ever seen.” Dean added.

“Yeah, because it's about a century old, back from when phones had cranks.”

“So, why use that number to reach out and touch someone?” You asked.

“Got me there too, but we should put a trace on it.”

“How the hell are we going to put a trace on something that's over 100 years old?” Dean asked.

“That was my first thought too but turns out there is a phone company that does all this right here in town. It’s a popular company too so we just dress like we’re from HQ and let’s go see where this number came from.” Sam said, getting up and grabbing his Fed clothes. You sighed and let go of Dean, getting up to do the same.

Arriving at the phone company place, you met a man who would escort you down to the basement where you would get to meet the person who would trace the call. Immediately upon meeting the man, you got a weird vibe from him. You didn’t know if it was because you were stressed about Dean’s situation or it was something else but you couldn’t take your eyes off him.

“We don't get many folks from HQ down here.” The man said, guiding you down the hall.

“Yes, well the main office mentioned that there would be a lunch.” Dean said with a smirk and when the man’s back was turned, Sam gave him a bitch face. Dean shrugged but followed the man. You still hadn’t said a word.

“Well I'm sure we can arrange something. The man you wanna be speaking to is right this…” The man trailed off. Sam swatted at a fly that was buzzing around and the man sighed. “I know, sorry. We've got something of a hygiene issue down here if you ask me.”

“Stewie?” The man called out once you got to an office of some kind. You walked through the door and bit back a smile when you saw the man at the computer, the man who would be helping you, had multiple popups of porn sites. “What did I tell you about keeping this place clean?”

Stewie jumped at the intrusion and began closing the porn sites quickly but they just kept popping back up. You cleared your throat and looked at the brothers who were also amused. You looked at the manager and you lost your smile. You glared slightly at him because you wanted him to know you didn’t like him.

“Spam mail... spam mail…” Stewie muttered. “I don't know how all this got here…” The manager reached out and flicked Stewie’s head, making the startled man jump and turn around in his chair.

“Stewie, this is Mr. Randall, Mr. Baker and Ms. Press. From headquarters.” The manager introduced you and the Winchesters. You looked at Stewie who awkwardly crossed his legs as if to hide his obvious erection.

“Give these folks whatever they need.” The manager ordered and Stewie nodded, flustered.

“Thank you.” Dean said with a tight smile.

“Yeah, thanks.” Sam echoed his brother. The man smiled and left the room. You bit your lip and looked out the room to watch the man walk away. What was so weird about him? Was he the monster in the case? You would have gotten a more profound vibe from him if he was. There was just something off about him.

Just as the man got to the corner, he turned his head and made eye contact with you, as if he knew you were watching him. You glared at him and you could have sworn you saw a smirk on his face right before he disappeared around the corner. You cleared your throat and turned back to the brothers and the pervert.

“So... can I help you?” Stewie asked.

“Is that, ahhh, BustyAsianBeauties.com?” Dean asked with a smirk, now that the manager was gone. You rolled your eyes and slapped his arm lightly.

“Come on, Dean.” You whispered so that only he heard.

“No.” Stewie said quickly just as a woman on the screen began talking.

“Oh, me so horny.” Stewie turned in his chair and quickly closed out of the porn site.

“Maybe.” Stewie said.

“A word to the wise? Platinum membership? Worth every penny. Ha?” Dean smirked and you looked at him, not amused.

“You want to lose the real thing?” You asked him and he instantly lost his smirk. That’s what you thought.

“Right, anyway, we’re here to trace a number.” Sam said, handing Stewie a piece of paper.

“Where did you get this?” Stewie asked, looking at the number.

“Off caller ID.”

“Oh no, that’s impossible.”

“It hasn’t been used in a few years, we know.” Dean responded.

“A few years? It's prehistoric. Trust me, nobody is using this number anymore.”

“Sure, could you run it anyway?” Sam asked, not caring about his excuses for the number.

“Sure. Why don't I just rearrange my whole life first.” Stewie responded snarkily. You glared at him, annoyed at everything today. You didn’t know why your patience was like this but you didn’t have time for bullshit.

“Listen, uh, Stewie?” You said, moving closer to him. “You got like six kinds of employee code violations down here, not to mention the sickening porn that is clogging up your hard drive. Now, when my partner says run the number, I suggest you run the damn number!” All three of you gave Stewie a hard look and he sighed, turning back to his console.

“Okay, whatever, jeez!” Stevie grumbled. You rolled your eyes out of annoyance and watched him work. You felt Dean’s hand on your shoulder but you shrugged him off. Just as you did that, a long list of numbers appeared on Stewie’s computer.

“Holy shit.” He muttered.

“What?” You asked.

“I can't tell you where the number comes from, but I can tell you where it's been going.”

“What do you mean?” Sam asked. Stewie printed the screen and handed the paper to Sam, avoiding your gaze.

“Ten different numbers in the past few weeks, all got calls from the same number.” He looked between you, Sam and Dean. You nodded and looked at the brothers who looked back at you.

“Thanks, Stewie.” Sam said.

“So, are we done here? Cause I was… sort of… busy?” Dean smirked at this and you sighed, leaving the room in annoyance. You didn’t know why you were being this way. Immediately, the Winchesters were on your tail as you left Stewie’s office and also the building.

“Wait, sweetheart, what’s wrong?” Dean stopped you from walking.

“Sorry, Dean, I am just very annoyed. I don’t know why I’m like this. Everything seems to be annoying me.” You sighed and looked at him.

“Okay, well, we have a list of addresses and names on this list so we should split up and see if anyone has seen or heard anything weird.” Dean said, taking the paper from Sam’s hand and taking a picture of it on his phone. You did the same before handing the paper back to Sam.

“Okay, we’ll meet up back at the motel later, okay?’ You said, walking away before anyone else could say something. You heard both brothers sigh and you thought you were alone until a hand stopped you from walking. You looked back to see Dean and you bit your lip.

“Sorry, okay? It’ll pass and I’ll be back to normal.” You started to say but you were cut off by his lips on yours. You welcomed them, not knowing when kissing him would be your last time. You reached up and gripped the front of his shirt tightly as you kissed him back. He knew what was bothering you and once he pulled away, he smiled gently.

“You’re going to be okay.” He tried to assure you.

“Am I?” You whispered before clenching your jaw. You sighed and got out of his grip before leaving his side. You didn’t look back as you walked down the street to the first address on the list. This was going to be a long day, you just knew it.

You’ve checked about 5 houses but no one had heard anything weird or seen anything weird. You were just about to give up and go back to the motel room when you approached the last house. You sighed and walked up the stairs and knocked on the door. A middle-aged man opened the door and you noticed a 6 or 7-year-old boy standing by his feet.

“Yeah?” The man asked.

“Hello sir, I am with the phone company?” You started to say but he frowned in confusion.

“We didn’t call the phone company.”

“Oh no, sir, we’re calling you. We’ve had a lot of complaints from the neighborhood lately.”

“Complaints?” He asked.

“Yes sir. Dropped calls, static, maybe even strange voices on the other end of the line?” You noticed a teenage girl appear behind her dad and at your words, she looked startled. Maybe you shouldn’t be talking with the man, you should be talking with her, judging by the look on her face.

“No, we haven’t had any of that here.” The man said.

“Nothing?” You asked, looking at him than at the girl who made eye contact with you.

“No.”

“Okay, great, just thought we’d check. Thanks.” You smiled at him.

“No problem. Come on, Simon.” The man said to you before talking to his son. As the door closed, you made eye contact with the girl who looked startled. You kept it until the door closed. You sighed and turned around, walking away from the house. That girl knew something and you needed to know what she knew but you didn't know how to approach the subject.

“No way you work for the phone company.” You turned around and saw the teenage girl standing behind you.

“Sure I do.” You smiled at her.

“Since when does a phone girl wear a cheap suit or have a gun strapped to her hip?” She said and you blushed slightly, pulling your jacket closer. You’d figure having your gun strapped to your hip would be better instead of behind your back where it would be more noticeable.

“Yeah, well, maybe we’re both keeping secrets.” You said to her.

“Why did you ask my Dad if he's hearing strange voices on the phone?”

“Why, did you hear something?” You asked and she immediately answered and you knew she had.

“No.”

“My mistake, I thought you did.” You said, giving her a second chance to tell you but she didn’t take it.

“Well, I didn't, okay?” She said defensively. You smiled at her and nodded.

“Okay, sorry to bother you,” The girl just stood there, looking uncomfortable. She had something to say and you wanted her to know you were someone you could trust. “Because you know, if you did, then I would have told you that I've been right where you're standing right now. Hearing things, even seeing things that can't be explained. Maybe I would have been able to help out a little bit. Anyway…”

“Hey, wait,” She said just as you turned away. “Maybe… maybe I’ve been talking on the phone… with my mom.”

“That’s not so strange.” You said.

“She’s dead. Like three years now.”

“How often does she call you?” You asked.

“A few times. It started a week ago. I thought I was like, crazy or something.”

“I can tell you one thing for sure, and you're going to have to go with me on this, okay? You're not crazy. Here, take this and if she calls again, call me. Me and my partners know a little something about this kind of stuff. You can trust us...” You handed her a card and she took it hesitantly.

“Thanks.” She whispered.

“Just doing my job.” You winked at her before turning and walking away from her. You didn’t have a car to get anywhere so you had to walk. Good thing you opted to wear your flats instead of your heels. You took out your phone and dialed Sam who picked up on the third ring.

“Yeah?”

“Hey, this caller has been calling everyone in this town. People didn’t have to tell me for me to know. Perks of being a witch or something. I know when people are lying.”

“I don’t envy you.” Sam chuckled.

“Did Dean find anything?”

“Unless you count an old woman having phone sex with her dead husband, no.”

“Great. I just talked with this girl who said she’s been having conversations with her dead mom of three years. I told her if she calls again, to call me. Other than that, I got nothing.”

“Okay, I’ll call you later with what I find.”

“Okay, bye.” You said before hanging up. Just as you put your phone back in your pocket, it began ringing again. You sighed and took it out again and without looking at the caller ID, you answered it, thinking it was Sam.

“Yeah, what?’ You asked but there was nothing on the other line except static.

“Sam? Dean?” You asked but no one answered you. You were about to hang up but you heard the one voice you never thought you would hear again.

“Y/N?” Your mom said on the other line. You stopped walking and got tears. “Y/N is that you?”

“Mom?” You asked, your voice wavering. As quickly as the call came in, it stopped just like that. You heard nothing on the other line and you looked at your phone but it didn’t show any signs of being on a call. You let a tear fall but quickly wiped it away. You had to get to the motel room now. You shot a text to the brothers before making your way to the room.

Get back NOW.

Series Rewrite Junkies:

@helllonearth @deanwnchstr @caseykitten6 @quixoticcat @supernaturalblogging @notmoose45 @crowleysminion @mina22 @tahbehonest @oreosatmidnight @seninjakitey @flyonlittlewinchester @earthtokace @gingersnapped13 @superrandomnatural @my-wayward-heroes @stevetrevorstardis @supernaturallover2002 @teamfreewillsstuff @gucci-daddario @22sarah08 @gh0stgurl @put-my-favorite-record-on @rhiannonj79 @onlydeanandjensen @bloodyvoodoo @morgannope

#supernatural series rewrite #long-distance call #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #spn series rewrite #dean x reader #dean fic #dean fanfiction #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fiction #series rewrite #season 3 episode 14 #s3e14 #s3e14 spoilers #spn #supernatural #sam winchester #john winchester