#and a friend asked if we could meet at a thrift store n have lunch together... just out of the blue. cries.

[motherish]

What can I say? It’s been an ordeal. 🥲

🦔 Still dealing with Pepper and her hyperthyroidism. Had to take her to the emergency vet cause she had trouble breathing? Was there from 1am-7am only to figure out that LONG STORY SHORT she needed to take a shit. 😀 Lots of money and trauma that I really can’t go into detail all essentially for nothing? But better safe than sorry. Just.. ugh. That was a horrible night and I’ll leave it there.

🪺 Anxiety anxiety anxiety. I’m a big ball of it. 🫠 Sleep has not come easily, or at all lately. I wake up in the middle of the night with just ANXIETY. I can’t even remember the last time I had proper sleep. I plan on buying some sleep edibles just to calm my mind because even the melatonin doesn’t work. I feel like the only bright side of me getting like this is that I get way more productive around the house lol I cleaned out the pantry! Reorganized EVERYTHING! Prepped lunch for the loml and even planned out dinner as well. 📝Anything to get me out of my head. The entire time I had LOTR playing. I kept stopping in between what I was doing and crying whenever Samwise spoke. I love him!! 🥹

🛼 I know I’ve mentioned my love for across the spider-verse before. But omg. The amount of times I’ve rewatched it lately is insane! It has to be my most watched movie ever! Whenever I feel awful, I just know I’ll feel better once i watch it. 😌 Lately everything I’ve been consuming is one big valiant effort to keep me from losing my mind.

🥋 Speaking of distractions! I finished the Slam Dunk manga! 🎉 So nice to have one more series crossed off my list! And this is one I’ve been wanting to get into for YEARS! God. I am such a sucker for sports anime idk WHAT it is. Is it the comradery? 🤔Watching underdogs climb their way up from nothing? 💭Forcing themselves to overcome the most difficult obstacles? I think it’s all of it LOLLL the fun I had reading Eyeshield 21 was the SAME fun I had reading Slam Dunk! The time was ticking and they’re stressed and SO AM I lol!! Couldn’t help but tear up at certain times when they’d make a shoot! So funny too cause I don’t give a shit about basketball (same as football for E21) but by the end of the series I knew what certain things meant LOLL sports anime can be educational! 🤓☝️

🍁 I read the translations of Namjoons live stream and I really appreciated how transparent he was about how utterly miserable the army was for him and how he’s still dealing with the mental toll it took on him. In one part he mentions how he feels so different now, and how he would like to redo his space. Throw out clothes that no longer fit him and start over. I feel that so so heavily. I’ve been going through my closet and random things still in boxes. Setting aside the stuff I’ve held onto for far too long, and making space for the new. 🐣

🍋‍🟩 Everyday I tell myself to just fake it til you make it. That if I keep a positive mood and I am determined to make it a good day, then it’ll be one. I am taking time to stop and enjoy the small joys in my life. My favorite cup of coffee in my hand. The birds chirping outside our home. Listening to my favorite music as I drive to work. There are good things all around me, and I’ll be okay. I just have to get over all the bad things, and then I’ll be okay again lol! One day at a time!! 🐛

[sweet-dreams-internal-screams]

Study Session HawkXFem!Reader Part 3

Study buddies with benefits has never been more fun ;)

Warnings: swearing, oral(female receiving) HJ (male receiving) weed (eventually anyways) and Violence (karate)

Also for the sake of this making sense let’s pretend that “Miyagi Fang” never split also very long chapter

Y/N woke up the next morning heavy in sleep from a long week. Her mom had an extra early shift this weekend so Y/N took her car and headed down to a local farmers market to do some searching.

“And $3.89 is your change Miss, have a lovely morning.” The farmer said handing her a bag of fresh strawberries. She smiled and walked away, and turned right into the culture section of the Farmers Market. She walked towards the Greek booth and started exploring. “I should bring Hawk here later.” Y/N thought.

Mom:Hey babes working overnight love you <3

Y/N: love you too

Y/N sighed with the thought of another night alone. Her mom often works late nights and her dad wasn’t in the picture.

Y/N’s friend: Hey do you wanna hang tonight?

Y/N: Sure I’ll call u later.

Y/N headed to the dojo where Hawk trained. She pulled in front and walked around to the back where students were sitting on the grass in their respective circles talking and that’s when she saw the stiff, red spikes and walked over to him. Y/N tapped on his shoulder and he spun around with confusion after seeing the girl in an unusual habitat.

“Y/N? What are you doing here? Are you stalking me?” Hawk asked. The last line was obviously sarcasm but she couldn’t help but roll her eyes. “No dingus you left your cell at my house last night, pretty counterproductive for you to get my number and leave your phone, or was that your plan all along?” Y/N smirked at her comment but keeping her eyes locked on Hawk, who started to turn as red as his mohawk. He hit his chest pretending to be wounded by her words. “Dang, you caught me. But seriously thank you I was not looking forward to telling my mom I lost my phone.” Hawk chuckled which caused Y/N to join in.

“Hawk! Whatcha doing? Thought you said you wanted to do a quick spar with me during lunch?” A blonde man yelled at him walking over. Y/N recognized him as THE Johnny Lawrence.

“Yeah fangirls aren’t allowed during practice.” He said. Y/N eyes widened at the horror of being “Hawks fangirl”, The horror on Hawks face as well almost made her burst into laughter.

“N-No I, She, we no.” They both tried to explain to Johnny who was more confused then the time Miguel was explaining the difference between Pansexuality and Bisexuality to him. Y/N took a deep breath and finally explained the situation. “Okay cool, so Hawk sparring or no? Because there’s a Coors and a bologna sandwich with my name on it.” Sensei Lawrence asked, crossing his arms.

“Could we do it tomorrow? I have to talk to Y/N about this proj- yeah not sure what that has to do with Karate but don’t bore the girl to death.” Johnny cut in then turned and walked into the dojo.

“I like your Sensei, might have to take up some Karate myself maybe.” Y/N joked. Hawk scoffed pretending to be offended. “I give excellent lessons you know.” He told her.

“Anyways would you have time after Karate to work the project?” She asked. “Sure we’re done in another hour, I could meet you there.” Hawk suggested. Y/N agreed and waved goodbye.

Y/N headed home to put her bags away. Texting with her friends and looking at other places to look for Ancient Greece project.

“Fuck.” She muttered looking down at her shirt that had at stain on it. She ran upstairs to change.

“Wow Y/N, you sure know how to pick ‘em!” Hawk yelled walking up to her as she stood crossing her arms in front of the closed thrift store.

“I could’ve sworn they were open today.” Y/N muttered. Hawk chuckled at her disappointment.

“Okay if we hurry we could go to the farmers market, the Greek booth is literally so cool!” She beamed “did you drive here?” She asked. Hawk shook his head and picked up his skateboard. He picked his board and walked towards her car. They drove to the farmers market and headed to the Greek booth.

They found some supplies and went back to Y/N’s house to work on the project.

“Um the living room is a little cluttered. We can go up to my room.” She said bringing Hawk up the stairs.

“You smoke?” Hawk asked looking over on Y/N’s desk seeing the baggie of weed and fruit scented rolling papers. He raised an eyebrow in curiosity. “Yes but it’s like a blend with flowers and also medical, for anxiety.” She told him.

They worked on their presentation for a while, finally getting tired of the research. Y/N, who was sitting on her bed shut her laptop and sighed. “Do you wanna order food?” She asked. Hawk nodded his head. They decided on pizza.

“I gotta say, I thought a plain cheese pizza would be a bad idea but, you have good taste.” Y/N sighed wiping her mouth and hands looking over at Hawk. “What did I say? Impeccable taste right here.” Hawk said leaning his head back to look at Y/N upside down while pointing to himself.

“Wanna smoke?” She asked with a newfound smile on her face. Jumping up and grabbing her rolling tray. Hawk turned around to face her. “Yeah.” Hawk said as his lips curled up.

“Okay Strawberry or Cherry? There’s a wrong answer btw.” Y/N asked holding the papers up. Hawk pointed to Strawberry and she nodded her head in approval. She grounded up dried rose petals and a bit of weed and put it into the rolling paper, she licked the paper and twisted it shut. Y/N grabbed her lighter and gave it a few puffs before passing to Hawk, who gave a few puffs himself.

“I wanna try something.” Hawk said chuckling and lifting himself onto Y/N’s bed. She snickered as Hawk came closer to her and they were face to face. He took the blunt and took a hit, inhaling and grabbed Y/N’s face with his hands and shotgunned the smoke into her lips.

Y/N looked at Hawk, who was still holding onto her face. “Well that was pretty hot.” She whispered looking at Hawks icy blue eyes that weren’t breaking contact. She looked down at his lips that were begging for attention, and she pressed her lips into his. Hawk kissed back, tilting her chin up as a way for asking for access, Y/N granted and allowed his tongue in.

Y/N laid onto her back as Hawk climbed on top of her and lowered his head down to her neck and planted warm kisses around her neck and collarbones. She let out a few soft moans and could feel Hawk smirk as he heard them. Hawk looked up from his position to see Y/N who was flustered “Can I, make you feel good?” He asked as his pointer finger swiped across the band of her shorts. She nodded yes breathing heavy from anticipation. Hawk smirked as he pulled her hips to the end of the bed so he could get onto his knees in front of her. He swatted her hand away as she tried to undo her pants, insisting on doing it himself, pulling them down, along with her underwear.

Y/N felt the breeze and her body began to hum. Hawk started kissing her thighs leaving love marks on the inside. Y/N groaned in neediness and Hawk ventured farther up till he reached her core, which was slick with wetness and proceeded to insert his tongue into her, making Y/N moan and grip her bedsheets. “Fuck, oh god.” She yelled shutting her eyes as her hips bucked upwards. Hawk had to hold them steadily as he continued his work. Hawk felt the pulsating quicken by Y/N he kept going until she let a loud, tired moan and he felt her release. Hawk stood up and wiped the corners of his mouth as Y/N pulled her underwear back up. Breathing heavily.

“You know I think we should study again tomorrow.” Y/N laughed looking over at Hawk who nodded in agreement.

Y/N’s friend: hey thought you wanted to hang?

Y/N: Oh sorry I got caught up studying

“Yeah studying.” Hawk chortled

A/N- Well I’m proud of that one if I do say so myself! I kept laughing while writing but I’ll post part 4 in a few days!

Fully released FIC

[swtltlmrvlgrl]

Accidents Happen

Summary:

The story is set in an alternative MC universe where Tony Stark is still alive and is paying for Peter Parker’s college tuition fees. The college life is not really something that he looks forward to, especially when he’s far away from Ned and MJ. But luckily he was able to meet the reader!

This story is part of my one-shot compilations inspired by the song “You Shine” from the musical “Carrie”, wherein two people see the way each other shines.

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Warning: Fluff, awkward university students, accident, injury

Word Count: 2,906

First Day of School. Peter Parker cringes at the thought. It’s not that he hates school, he just feels uneasy at the thought that he’s new and he doesn’t have his friends, Ned and MJ, with him.

And I’m Spider-Man, I have better things to do, he thought.

If it wasn’t for his promise to Mr. Stark, to finish his college degree in exchange for full access to the Avengers Compound and all the tech that comes with it, he would’ve webbed his way out of the school before he could even get in the school.

Tony Stark, a genius, billionaire, playboy and philanthropist, initially wanted to enroll Peter in the most elite school in America but good thing Peter was able to convince him not too. With the looks of how the students dress up and the amount of cars outside the parking area, this would’ve gotten much worse if he followed Mr. Stark’s initial plan. Peter adjusts his second-hand, thrift-store-bought backpack and walks straight towards his classroom.

Before entering the classroom, he double checks the text written on his ID to see if it matches the name of the room. He slowly enters the room and lo-and-behold, a classroom that can be converted to an IMAX movie theater, welcomes him.

He scans the room and decides to sit on the desk located a few meters away from the exit door. With his elbow on the desk and his chin resting on the palm of his hand, he observes the students already forming groups amongst themselves. Peter made no attempt to join a clique or to join any group, just looking at his wrinkled plaid shirt over his 5-year old white shirt, he knows he doesn’t belong. But he knows that’s not enough of a reason to just stop making new friends.

You’re an Avenger, man. With all the courage that he could muster, he scans the room and tries to find at least one person who hasn't had any chance to make friends yet.

Before he could turn around to check if the seat behind him is also empty, you walk towards Peter’s direction. You were wearing a blue oversized sweatshirt. A tinge of reds were peaking through the gaps between the folds of your black denim pants and white sneakers also caught Peter’s attention.

This is my chance.

Before Peter could even speak with you, a voice coming from the professor disrupted Peter’s plans.

“Hi class. Good morning.” The professor flashes his name and the subject name on the screen of the projector. “For today, I will be discussing the syllabus, I think we’ll finish early. I won’t be sharing the soft copy of my slide, so please take down notes.”

Bummed that he wasn’t able to talk to you, Peter made a mental note to at least try to start a conversation with you after class. He then rummages through his things, only to realize that he wasn’t able to bring any pens. He vaguely remembers Aunt May borrowing it earlier, but he’s not really sure if she was able to return it. “Oh no.” He whispers and takes out his notebook instead.

Peter is in the middle of pretending that he’s taking down notes, when he feels a soft tap on his shoulders.

“You can borrow this if you want.” You offer a ballpen to Peter.

Peter is taken aback by this sudden interaction.

“Ah!” You exclaim. “Don’t worry, the case is pink but the ink’s black.”

“T-thanks.” Peter stuttered. “I - I don’t mind the color.”

I don’t mind the color?? What the hell does that mean?! Peter smiles at your direction while mentally cursing at his awkward self on the inside.

-----

The professor finishes up his lecture and you start to fix up your things.

“Thank you for this.” Peter interrupts, while you were in the middle of putting your notebook in your black leather backpack. “I-I left my pen at home and -” With his left hand, he rubs his nape, as he hands you the pen with his right. “I’m Peter, by the way, Peter Parker.”

“Y/N. Y/N, L/N.” You respond and push back the pen. “You can have the pen for a while. You’ll probably need that for your next classes.”

“Oh. Uh!.” That… makes sense. Not gonna lie, Peter was a little surprised by your response, he definitely did not include that in his list of possible scenarios. “Right. I’ll just return this tomorrow.”

“Sure! What time’s your lunch tomorrow?” You ask, as the two of you walk out of the room. “My lunch time is...” He looks at the back of his ID, “a little early… 11:30AM. How about you?”

“Ow. Too bad. Mine’s 12nn.”

Your small pout wasn’t left unnoticed (and it was a little cute and Peter couldn’t help but smile.) “Wanna compare schedules?” Peter asks.

“Sure!” you answer excitedly.

“So…” Peter scans your schedule. "We’re classmates in… Literature… and…”

“History.” You add. The two of you looked at each other and smiled.

“I guess we’ll see each other a lot?” Peter comments.

“Yeah. I hope so.” You answer and smile at him.

-----

The two of you started eating together ever since the day returned the pen to you. Seating next to Peter is probably one of the best decisions that you made in your life. Having someone to eat with during lunch time was a thorn out of your chest because eating alone is one of your fears.

Generally, it takes a long time before you can adjust yourself to someone (contrary to the popular belief that you’re “friendly’), but Peter’s obvious awkwardness and warmth just made it more comfortable for you. Knowing that someone is as shy as you, but still trying to converse with you is something that you really appreciate 0 it makes you want to try to converse too.

From having lunch together, you two ended up walking home together, as well. Some days you would wait for him, some days he would wait for you and then some days he has to go earlier because he had something to do for Mr. Stark. Walking home together wasn’t really something that you explicitly told each other to do, it just felt like a natural thing to do.

“Hey.” you say, one day. “Let’s go to the clinic on our way home.”

“Why?” Peter asks, his voice sounds a little worried.“ Do you feel sick?”

You don’t answer and continue walking instead. After arriving at the clinic, you open the door and Mary, the University nurse, greets you with a warm smile.

“Y/N! What’s up?” Mary inquires.

“Hi Mary!” You stride inside and Peter follows. “Can I have some of your bandages?”

“Sure! Why? Don’t tell me you got injured again.” Mary echoes your soft chuckle. “No, not me this time.”

Mary pauses whatever she’s doing and observes you, as you point at the empty chair to where Peter can sit while you look for the bandages in the cabinet. Peter looks a little confused. With a white square bag in one hand, you approach the chair where Peter was seated.

“Give me your hand.” You instruct Peter, he hands you his left hand. “Your other hand, you silly.” You smile.

“I don’t think -” The pain he felt after you touch his right hand stops him mid-sentence.

“Sorry.” You whisper. Peter was wearing a long-sleeved flannel shirt that you had to slide up. His hand is swollen as you expected.

“I-” Peter starts. “I fell from the stairs.” Of course that is a lie. Because, he, in fact, fell from a building because he was running late for Literature class. He didn’t really mind it, because it happens all the time and he knows he’ll heal eventually.

You gently place a cold compress on Peter’s hand. “I noticed that you were having a hard time writing a while ago.” You pause for a while and look at him. “You don’t have to explain anything Peter. Plus, since you injured your dominant hand, I just thought you might need help with wrapping this up.”

“My mom’s a nurse.” You mention, while wrapping the bandage around Peter’s hand. “We used to pretend to be injured and wrap bandages during play time.”

Peter hums, amused. “You’re amazing, you know.” He comments. “You’ve always been like this since the day we first met. It’s like, you can read my mind.”

You laugh. “I don’t know why, but I always get that comment about me.” You pull down and button up Peter’s Sleeve. “But I don’t think I’m amazing, though.”

Before Peter could say anything, you stand up, fix the chair and return the bandage to where you got it. “Let’s go home?”

Peter nods and you bid goodbye to Mary.

“Bye, Mary. Thanks.” Peter echoes and waves his hand briefly.

“Take care, you two.” Mary responds.

-----

On your way home, Peter stops in his tracks and points at the ice cream truck by the park. “Hey. Let’s get some ice cream. Sit by the bench over there.” He pauses and looks at you. “I’ll go get you some. My treat.” He winks and runs towards the truck.

You sit down on the bench located under a tree, stretch your arms a little while taking a breath of fresh air. A few moments later, you see Peter striding towards the bench. He stops in front of you, with two ice creams in his left hand - his fingers strategically intertwined to make sure the ice creams won’t fall down. One of the ice cream was probably cookies and cream flavored and the other one was chocolate for sure.

“You know” You comment, as you reach out for what you assume as the cookies and cream flavored ice cream. “If you can hold two ice cream cones in one hand you should might as well try to write with it.”

Peter laughs and sits next to you and hands you a paper towel. “I’ll put that on my to-do list.”

You grab the paper towel that Peter handed you and the two of you proceed eating. You were silent for a whole minute until Peter started speaking again.

“I still think you’re amazing though.” Peter comments. While you were focusing on eating your ice cream, he looked at you briefly and looked away when you started laughing.

“Why are you bringing up that topic again?” A layer of ice cream got stuck on your throat making you cough a little, you clear your throat, and continue. “I don’t think being… hmm… how should I call this?” You pause to think for a second. “Sensitive? I don’t think it’s something amazing.”

“Why is that?” Peter was curious. “It’s like you’re a mind-reader! It’s amazing!”

You chuckle. “Why? Are you going to recruit me to the Avengers or something?”

Did she notice that I’m Spider-Man, too? “Hehe-he.” Peter laughs awkwardly and continues eating his ice cream.

“But seriously though.” You continue, while chewing some of the ice cream cone bits in your mouth. “As much as being...err...hyper-sensitive with other people’s non-verbal nuances is a good thing, especially when I have a friend like Peter Parker who tends to keep their struggles to themselves.”

“Hey! I don’t do that…”

You glare at him, smile a little and take a deep breath. “It’s not particularly amazing when I have to stand in front of many people…” You finish up with your ice cream and crumple the piece of paper towel on your hand. “...and notice every little change in expression each time you utter a word… Or when you sit alone in the middle of crowded places and just feel the eyes of people staring at you, judging you.” You look at Peter and smile a little more as you try to make it look like it’s not that big of an issue.

Peter had finished his ice cream as well. “Y/N…” Peter might not be as sensitive as you, but he looks at you as if he sees beyond your half-hearted smile. Peter moves and scoots closer to you while adjusting himself to face you. He takes your hand, opens it, and takes the balled up paper towel that you’ve been gripping while you were speaking. With his left hand, he puts the paper towel into his bag’s side pocket, while making sure that his right hand never left yours.

“I’m sorry… I never meant to make you feel uncomfortable.” You look at Peter. He was gazing at you, looking straight into your eyes.

“It’s fine, Peter. It’s not like you -”

“Y/N.” Peter cuts you off. “Whether or not I wanted to, I made you feel uncomfortable and I have to apologize. Okay?” Peter pauses. “Can you promise me one thing?”

“What is it?” You ask.

“I - I’m not as sensitive as you and I might not always notice whether you feel bad or not.” Peter continues. “If it’s alright with you… can you promise to not hide your feelings when you’re with me? I mean - it’s difficult, you know. Having to hide your feelings all the time. At least if you’re with me… even if it’s for a short time, you don’t have to carry the burden of hiding it.”

You smile at Peter, tears welling up on your eyes. “Peter…”

“But if you’re not comfortable with that, it’s fine -”

You release your hand from Peter’s hand, form a fist and raise your pinky finger. “I promise.”

Peter smiles and entangles his pinky finger into yours. “Promise.”

“Just promise that you won’t fall down the stairs again.” You joke.

Peter chuckles while reaching out for your face to wipe the tear that you didn’t notice fall from your eye.

“If you have presentations where you have to speak in front of the class, whether I’m your classmate or not, I’ll try to be there and maybe you can try to focus on me?” Peter clears his throat. “I mean… just to keep your attention out of the other people.”

You laugh and Peter joins you too. “Thanks, Pete.”

-----

“I have something to buy at the grocery.” You tell Peter while the two of you are waiting for the traffic light to turn green. “You can go ahead.”

“Take care!” Peter shouts as the two of you go your separate ways.

“You too!” You shout back and make your way towards the grocery.

Peter waits until you’re out of sight before he goes to the alleyway to change into his suit and start his patrol. He webs his way up the building and gets a glimpse of you entering the grocery. He nods a little and webs away to find people he needs to help out.

-----

Normal. That’s what Peter would probably describe the first hour of his patrol today - stopping thieves from running away, saving cats that got stuck on a tree and telling a lost man the directions. It was all just normal everyday, neighborhood Spider-Man things.

He was about to take a break when he felt the hair in his arms stand up.

Peter tingle.

“Y/N!” He exclaims as he hurries down towards the direction of the grocery where he last saw you.

I hope I’m wrong. I hope I’m wrong. He repeats in his head. Y/N, please, please be safe.

-----

You were on your way to cross the street when a running child and stumbled into you, causing your groceries to fall down. You squat to pick up the groceries, you look up to search for the child, only to find him still running.

Towards the pedestrian lane.

Red light.

Huge truck.

Fast.

You stand up and dash towards the kid, leaving your groceries scattered across the pavement.

Will I make it?

You run as fast as you can.

I won’t make it. The truck’s too fast.

You run faster.

A little more.

You reach for him and you push him towards (what you think is) safety as hard as hard as you can. All the energy in your body had left you and the last thing you can remember was the loud honk from the truck and then everything was silent.

-----

Your eyes are still closed when you feel an arm tightly wrapped around you. You look up only to find yourself swinging in the air while being held and carried by none other than Spider-Man.

The two of you reach what seems to be the top of some building, you're not even sure what building it is because everything happened so fast.

Spider-Man put you down at last.

“Thank you.” You tell him as you pat down and straighten your clothes. “I’m sorry you had to...carry me. Is the - uhm - is the kid safe?” You ask him.

Spider-Man chuckles. “You were literally about to die a while ago and the first thing you think of is the well-being of other people.” He sighs. “Are YOU okay?”

You pause for a second to the sudden idea that popped into your mind while you're face-to-face with THE Spider-Man.

Familiar.

Oddly familiar.

His voice is a little muffled, but you know that voice. You hear that voice every day. And that height. You take a step forward. That scent.

That warmth.

“Peter?” You step closer to the man that you’re 90% sure is your friend, Peter Parker, dressed in the Spider-Man costume. “Is that you?”

A/N: It's my first time writing for Peter Parker! How was it?? Haha. I hope I did his character justice.

I'm so excited to write five different stories with different pairings inspired from the song "You Shine". I haven't watched the musical but whenever I hear that song, I feel so encouraged and it makes me feel assured that somewhere out there, there are people who can see good things in me that I can't see for myself. Next up, Bucky Barnes x Reader! Look forward to it!

Masterlist

[kafka-ish]

a long time coming | r.t.

when a familiar face shows itself in derry, a familiar feeling picks up in richie’s heart

word count: 8,012

warnings/included: nsfw (smut, fingering, and regular vanilla sex, first time stuff), fluff (like... a conspicuous amount of fluff), fem!reader

a/n: gL gamers

-

y/n y/l/n was coming back to Derry. 

To any other bystander, this wasn’t news. However, to Richie Tozier, it was because Richie Tozier loved y/n y/l/n.

He loved her when they were five and she had introduced herself as the girl who moved in next door. He loved her when they were ten and she made friendship bracelets for both of them (which he would later find out she made friendship bracelets for all the Losers). He loved her when they were thirteen when he should’ve spent his time running from the bullies at his toes instead. And he loved her when they were fifteen when he was writing love letters. But she’d never see them because she was away at some fancy boarding school in New York, per her parents’ request. 

“I don’t see why you gotta go,” Richie said glumly. He was looking down and kicked at the dirt beneath his feet. Even if this would be the last time he’d ever see her, it would be too hard to look her in the eyes. 

Richie was the last one y/n told about Hoosac School. But if y/n had the option, she wouldn’t have told him at all. It was hard enough for her to bid her goodbyes to Bill, Stan, Eddie, Bev, Ben, and Mike. 

Naturally, Beverly was the first one she told. She was the only other girl in the Loser’s Club and the one y/n hung out with the most aside from Richie. Beverly was a blubbering mess. The brown mascara she applied delicately was running down her cheeks in ugly streaks and her red hair would sit tangled on her head for the next few days. 

Bill was next, but Bill knew everything. He found out from Bev the next day and confronted her about it at school. And y/n would sob into his shoulder and ask him what to do. 

“Tuh-tell the others,” he said sympathetically. 

So she did. 

She told Ben, Eddie, and Stan in her next period she shared with him. Ben sadly stroked her arm and told her he could have one of his CupCakes at lunch. y/n smiled, the sweet gesture easing the pain from her mind. And she told him she would take him up on that offer only if they were orange flavored.

Eddie cried that day, but he passed it off as an allergic reaction to the different brand of air freshener Mrs. Clarke used. Stan and Ben were just kind enough to believe him.

Stan was always the voice of reason. He told her this would be a great opportunity to learn new things and make new friends, but he also made her swear she’d write him—them—every week and call every night. He thought y/n would laugh at him for being clingy and compulsive but she didn’t. She took his hand in his, squeezing it firmly when she assured him she’d call every night and write every week.

But a certain sadness washed over her when it was Mike’s turn to receive the news.

It was on an early Saturday morning when he did. She offered to help him out with the farm—partly to spend time with him and partly to get some wear in her new overalls she’d thrifted before she left.

“I know… you’ve probably already heard.” y/n swallowed harshly before continuing. She was aimlessly shoveling a hole in the ground and she stared at the soil as if it were his brown eyes because this would be harder for her to say than harder for him to hear. “I’m leaving Derry.”

The sun wasn’t even up yet, but Mike was able to comprehend her words just fine. “When?” They were both turned away from each other—her working on the hole and him working on the bean sprouts.

“A month after school lets out. Don’t worry, Mikey. There’s still time for me to help you on the farm.”

“Just so you can dig holes in my daddy’s soil? I don’t think so.” Both y/n and Mike laughed. For a moment, y/n had forgotten about the packed boxes in her empty bedroom and the plane tickets her parents kept in an envelope for June the first.

And now y/n stood in front of Richie only a few days after she’d be boarding that plane because she’d been putting off telling him the way she did with the rest of the Losers.

y/n was staring at his forehead, desperately trying to meet his eyes. She didn’t care if the last time he’d be seeing her was with smudged mascara and red eyes, but she needed to see him. “My parents are making me,” she repeated. “If it were up to me I’d..”

“Don’t go,” Richie said abruptly, cutting her off. His Adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed and he couldn’t help but smile at the sight of her—even if her lips were bitten raw and her eyes welled with salty tears that he’d kiss away in his dreams when he went to bed that night. “To hell with your parents. You can live with me, kid. It’ll be like college but without the debt.”

y/n sniffed. Even though Richie was the funny one, she couldn’t bring herself to laugh. Maybe if the words were coming from Bill, Stan, or Ben, but not Richie. Not when her whole life was in front of her and there was no sign of him in it.

Richie frowned because if he couldn’t put a smile on her face, he didn’t know what would. A strong silence edged itself between the two of them. It wasn’t awkward, but it wasn’t comfortable either. He pushed up his glasses lazily with his index finger to get a better look at the sad sight ahead of him who was poorly trying to contain her sobs.

“Hey, kid.” Richie took her in his lanky arms. Neither of them said anything after that, but Richie couldn’t help but think if he said those three words maybe she wouldn’t have left.

“Well why didn’t you say so?” She’d say. They’d spend their next three years together attached to the hip before college sweeps them away. But they’d find each other later in life; at a record shop or on the streets of New York. y/n would ask “Richie, is that really you?” And Richie would reply in his British-man Voice:

“’Ello, luv. Don’t think I’ve seen you here before.”

y/n would be left in a stunned sort of silence for a while—not because she was unsure if the person standing in front of her was him, but because she was in awe. In awe that she finally found him.

But now Richie didn’t have to wait. He didn’t have to wallow in his own pity because the girl he loved was no longer two states away, but a couple of minutes away as he paced back in forth in Stan’s room.

“Calm down, Richie.” Stan was laying on his bed, trying to ignore his friend’s loud footsteps. Even though he had forced Richie to take his shoes off before coming into his house, his feet still thumped loudly against the floor. He was uncharacteristically thrusting a baseball between his two palms. It cut through the air smoothly as it moved side to side in his soft hands.

“What do you mean calm down?” Richie stopped in his tracks so he could shoot him a cold stare. “How am I supposed to calm down?” His heavy steps had resumed. Stan sighed.

“Just don’t make such a big deal out of—”

“Don’t give me that shit, Stan.” Richie groaned and went to tug on the friendship bracelet y/n gave him from when they were in grade school. It was a habit he’d picked up when y/n left. Whenever he got nervous, or irritated, or missed her, his right hand would find his left and wind around the memento. Arguably, that friendship bracelet could be deduced to a tangle of old, ratty strings; better yet, trash. But in Richie’s magnified eyes, it was still the same bracelet made of vibrant blue and green yarn y/n had bought from the craft store and braided with her small, meticulous fingers.

“What shit?” Stan scoffed because sometimes Richie could be irrational. “It’s called honesty. And honestly, it’s just y/n. What could go wrong?”

What could go wrong? Hell, everything could go wrong. She could forget who I am. Or better yet, she would remember and hate me.

“She won’t hate you,” Stan said unconvincingly in his usual monotone voice. It was like he could Richie’s mind, but Richie was obvious when it came to this stuff. Painfully obvious.

“Wuh-what’cha guh-guh-guys talking ab-bout?” Bill let himself into the room without knocking. Neither of the two boys minded. “I br-brought my bb-b-base-ball cards. But I’m keeping the Babe Ruth—”

“We’re not trading today, Bill.” Stan put down the leathery ball which sat in his left hand and sat up exasperatedly.

“W-we’re not?” An odd sort of sadness flicked across his usually bright features and he pocketed the collectibles. “Ih-ih-if we weren’t you sh-sh… could’ve cuh-called me fuh-fifteen minutes ago.” He went down to sit on Stan’s bed with him but was met with a harsh stare and a scolding instead.

“Take your shoes off!” He screeched and Bill toed off his old, beat-up Keds.

“So, wuh-what are we doing… if wuh-we’re not trading?” Bill asked.

“Richie just wants to talk.” Bill’s nose scrunched like a child who had just been informed liver was for dinner.

“T-t-t-talk? Get a s-s-sex change while you’re at it.”

Both Stan and Bill laughed, and Richie only grumbled. “C’mon, guys.” His pacing had yet again stopped but Stan knew he wouldn’t stay still for long. “What should I do?”

Then, Bill knew what they were talking about. It wasn’t a secret that Richie liked y/n. But like was an understatement. It just remained unsaid between the Losers. Either because Richie wouldn’t hear the end of it if they did talk about it or because… what was there to talk about? There were only so many times six boys and one girl could sing ‘Richie loves y/n’ until it got old.

“Wuh-well…” The rest of Bill’s words were swallowed by a heavy build-up of saliva and replaced with new ones before either Stan or Richie could chime in. “What do yo-you wanna do?”

“Aw, man. Lots of things.” Richie took a seat next to Bill on the edge of Stan’s neatly made bed. Stan groaned and shoved a pillow over his flushed face. He was torn between wanting to hear the details and hating that Richie was taking this conversation to a sappy turn. “The first thing I’d do would probably pull her in for a hug and kiss her cheek… And then I’d—”

“Beep Beep, Richie.” Stan’s muffled voice came from under the pillow and Bill laughed in agreement.

“Kuh-kiss?” Bill asked skeptically.

“Yeah. I know that’s new vocabulary to you, Big Bill, but—”

“No,” Bill said, ignoring Richie’s previous, rude, comment. “I mm-mean, you cuh-cuh-can’t kiss y/n.”

“You can’t tell me what to do,” Richie said, only half-listening to what Bill was saying. But Bill’s next statement grabbed Richie’s (and Stan’s) full attention.

“I cuh-can’t. But her b-boyfriend wuh-houldn’t like it.”

“y/n has a boyfriend?” Both Stan and Richie said in unison. The pillow flew from Stan’s face and his eyes were now widened with interest.

“How’d you find out?” Stan sandwiched himself between Bill and Richie. Richie was almost falling off the bed and he wanted to scoff because if anything he was more a part of the conversation than Ol’ Stanny Boy.

“Oh-oh-over the phone. Sh-sh-she called muh-me and s-s-s-said some-thing about a guh-guy named Tr-Tr-Trevor Mmm-Martin. Nuh-Nothing s-s-serious at the tuh-time. Bb-but…”

Richie didn’t catch the bullshit spewing from Bill’s big mouth. His head was busy spinning in all different directions, and he felt as if he were going to puke. Though there were no signs of the tuna salad sandwich and salt and vinegar chips Stan and he shared trekking its way up to his throat and onto Stan’s just shampooed carpet. Was this what heartbreak felt like?

If so, it was one son of a bitch.

Richie couldn’t seem to enjoy himself for the rest of the day—or the rest of the week, for that matter. He didn’t laugh when Stan cracked a joke that Bill laughed at (something about Jews getting their dicks cut off as an alternative to hell). He didn’t race home to greet the girl next door he’d been longing to see. And he didn’t feel anything when that same girl was pressed against his chest during the scary part of the movie all of the Losers had planned to see.

It was a sort of ‘welcome back’ celebration for y/n. This whole week, actually, would be dedicated to y/n in regard to her return. Stan, Eddie, and Mike were the first ones at the theatre. They waited outside of the Aladdin Theatre, all three in a line while Stan checked his watch for what seemed to be hundredth time and Eddie counted the change in his pocket, hoping it’d be enough for snacks.

“Don’t worry about it, Eddie,” Mike reassured. He patted him on the back. It was firm but gentle at the same time. It calmed him. “If you don’t have enough for snacks, me or someone else can spot you. And don’t worry about paying back.”

Eddie visibly relaxed at his words but Mike didn’t know why he was all of the sudden anxious about something like that.

Just then, Bill and Bev came up. Beverly’s hair was held back in a blue cowboy bandana, a contrast to her red hair, as a makeshift hairband. Her white blouse almost blended against her pale skin and her blue jeans chafed because of how fast she was skipping. Bill was falling behind but he didn’t really care. His hands were tucked into the pockets of his denim board shorts and he walked—strolled—down the sidewalk as if he had all the time in the world.

“I’m so excited!” A harsh squeal erupted from Beverly’s lips and Eddie had to cup his hands over his ears.

“Jesus, Bev. You could blow out an eardrum with those lungs.” But he wasn’t too impressed with her vocal range.

Ben and Richie came up together. They were talking about some new comic issue—Ben looked really into it, but Richie just wanted to avoid the topic of y/n that he was sure was now prevalent in everyone’s minds. Beverly gave him a knowing smirk when the two finally reached the group and Richie displayed his best ‘what-the-fuck-do-you-mean’ expression when he really did know what the fuck she meant.

This left y/n to be the last of the Losers to arrive.

The rubber sole of Richie’s beat up left slip-on tapped impatiently against the hot cement. “How long does it take to get ready?”

“Do you think she got lost?” Ben asked curiously, hoping that wasn’t the case.

“We should go in. Y’know so seats don’t get taken.” Before the rest of the group could protest Richie’s lame idea in attempts to boycott seeing their long-lost friend, a familiar voice piped up.

“That’s awfully rude of you Tozier.” Richie turned around to see y/n. How could a person look the same, yet totally different at the same time? Her hair was longer from when he last saw her and there was a new glow in her eyes that Richie couldn’t help but think meant she lost her innocence. He could’ve sworn she got taller, but she was also wearing platform wedges with little white flowers on the straps which matched her baby blue sundress that came just above the knee.

“y/n!” Beverly was the first to say. She ran the not far distance between them and enraptured her into a tight hug. “I missed you so much! I can’t believe you left me here… with all boys.”

y/n didn’t miss a beat of Beverly’s sarcasm and rolled her eyes. “I know, how could I? I’m such a monster.” The two giggled for an ungodly amount of time which the boys summed up to a sort of telepathic communication between the two.

Ben was next to greet y/n. He said she and he could share a pack of Donettes this time and a nostalgic smile crinkled her eyes as she remembered how he shared his dessert with him when she left.

Mike, Eddie, and Stan were next. Mike told her that while there’s no work to be done on his father’s farm, they could still hang out. Eddie hugged her just like Bev had. And Stan scolded her for being late but then whispered a ‘thanks’ for keeping her promise of writing to him, even if it wasn’t every week.

y/n lingered behind to say hi to Bill when he opened the door for everyone.

“Luh-luh-long time no s-s-see. Stranger.” y/n didn’t realize the Losers were waiting for them.

“Nice to see you, too.” She nudged Bill’s arm with her elbow and walked in. They didn’t say much to each other because nothing had to be said. They had an unspoken connection. Bill was like her brother. Always knew what to say. Always there for her…

Richie was the last to greet y/n because unlike Bill, he didn’t know what to say. He could feel the words dancing on his tongue, but he knew they’d come out in either a stutter or gibberish. He was waiting at the candy counter, drumming his fingers on the glass while Ben ordered a large popcorn and Donettes. Mike paid for his own strawberry licorice whips—none of the Losers partook in his favorite candy. Beverly only got a soda, and Eddie bought his own personal popcorn, but if Stan asked, he could have a few kernels.

“Hi.” Richie looked like he had seen a ghost when y/n came up next to him. He shouldn’t have been startled by her, but he was.

“Hey…” He held off on calling her a cheeky nickname because she had a boyfriend and that would be wrong, and he had morals—

“Are you getting anything?”

That depends, are you for sale? Beep beep, Rich.

“Nothing really…really caught my eye.” He glanced at the menu one more time as if he hadn’t had it memorized from the thousands of other times he’s been there—alone or not.

“That’s too bad. I thought we could share a popcorn?” y/n asked hopefully. “Or a soda? If you’re trying to cut down on carbs.”

Richie laughed. “I thought you and Ben were sharing those mini nightmares.” His hand dove into his pocket anyway. You can never be too sure, right?

“It’s called balance,” y/n said all too knowingly. “Have you ever heard of salty and sweet makes the perfect combination?” She eyed him through her mascara coated lashes that he remembered from three years ago and Richie heard himself calling one of the girls at the concessions stand over for a large popcorn. Extra butter.

Was she the sweet and Trevor was the salty one of the pair? His mind was numb during the movie, except for the one persisting thought he couldn’t help but circle back to. y/n and Trevor sitting in a tree…

He felt the armrest that divided the seats fly up and a trembling body wiggle itself next to his. Her arms latched onto his torso tightly and her head buried itself into his tacky Hawaiian shirt. Slowly, Richie began to fall from his catatonic state. His eyes drifted down to her figure, squinting in the darkness of the theatre.

“Hey…” His large hand smoothed over her hair in petting motions as he cooed into her ear. “It’s all… this stuff’s all fake. It’s not real.” Her quiet, pathetic sobs continued throughout the rest of the movie. Richie still consoled her.

Only until the lights drew up and the Losers were the last to leave an empty theatre decorated with chewed up bubble gum, candy wrappers, and the remains of popcorn on the floor did y/n remove herself from his shirt.

“Sorry.” y/n cleared her throat and sat up straight as if nothing happened. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen a horror movie.” She laughed, making fun of her own pitifulness.

“It was a h-h-horror movie. Not a d-d-drama.” Bill rolled his eyes but there was a smile on his lips.

“Girls, am I right?” Stan scoffed. He stood up, about to be the first of the Losers to leave the room until he stopped in front of y/n’s chair. “Don’t worry, I almost shat my pants.” Richie overheard him whisper in her hear.

y/n tried to eat the giggles trying to escape her mouth, but she couldn’t help it. Her laughter echoed in the empty theatre and the rest of her friends laughed with her. They didn’t understand what she was laughing at, they just missed the sound of her voice after so long.

Her small hand slipped into Richie’s sweaty one when the group met daylight which Mike was surprised at, even though they entered the Aladdin at one.

“What’re you doin’?” He asked, shaken up. They had officially fallen behind from the group, but it wasn’t like either of them cared. He took his hand from hers, opting to hold his own. Once his hand left hers he immediately missed the feeling. The warmth. The comfort. But his own would have to fair as a substitute for now.

“Just like old times… I thought.” y/n was flabbergasted at Richie’s antsiness. He wasn’t like this three years ago. Three years ago, he would’ve gladly accepted her hand in his. Three years ago, he would’ve scooped up her hand claiming that he doesn’t want her catching cold even though they stood in the summer heat.

Richie twirled his fingers around the end of his shirt. Old times. But the old times were different.

Richie Tozier was thirteen years old when he finally got his own bike to ride. He no longer had to ride double on Silver or walk to any of the functions that the Losers had planned. It wasn’t embarrassing, but no boy wanted to show up to the quarry or Aladdin Theatre riding on the back of Bill Denbrough’s bike, his arms actually wrapped around him. Especially if y/n would be seeing him.

So, he requested his parents buy him a bicycle of his own. Preferably green with a large bell so everyone knows when Richie ‘Trashmouth’ Tozier was coming. Pretty please.

And after a few months, his parents finally complied. It was green but it, however, did not come with a bell.

“You’ll just have to come up with the money for that one on your own, son.” His dad told him. But that was fine by Richie. And he excitedly pedaled off to the Aladdin where his friends would be soon, in hopes to impress a certain somebody.

“W-w-wow, Ruh-Ruh-Richie. You got a bike?” Bill asked. He wondered why his friend never gave him a call, asking to come pick and him up—he just assumed he was walking today.

“Yeppers.” Richie proudly rode circles around his friends with his new ET Kuwahara. He couldn’t wait until y/n saw him on it.

“Wh-wh-when?” Bill was the most curious out of the group. He would miss hitching Richie rides, but he wouldn’t miss how tight his arms seemed to wind against his chest.

“Like, yesterday.” Richie shrugged and he was the last one to park his bike. He kept riding circles around the empty Sunday street until y/n and Bev showed up. y/n didn’t have a bike and Bev always walked with her out of courtesy.

“Hey, wide ride!” Beverly called while Richie tried to pop a wheelie.

“Stop it,” y/n giggled but Richie was too lost in his own world to hear her. Eventually, he parked it; carelessly setting it down with Silver and Stan’s, Eddie’s, Ben’s, and Mike’s bike. “You got a bike?” y/n asked, coming up from behind him. Richie grinned.

“Yeah, do ya like?” y/n nodded wordlessly.

“Green’s not my color, though… Why’d you get a bike?”

“’Cause riding double is lame.” He shrugged and they entered the movie theatre together while the rest of their friends waited for them. “Anywho, how ‘bout I take you home tonight?”

“I thought you said riding double was lame,” y/n repeated his words even though she didn’t think that.

“Well—you see… What I meant was—”

“Just kidding, Tozier. Only you think riding double is lame anyway.” y/n found herself giggling while paying for her small popcorn which Richie would end up sticking his fingers into later on.

So, Richie took her home that night (and the rest of the nights the Losers met up). Her arms wrapped around his torso in the way he used to wrap his around Bill’s. At first, it felt like he couldn’t breathe, but that could’ve been because there was a pretty girl sitting behind him and he would be responsible if they got hurt.

After a while, though, he got used to it. And the arms slung around his chest were like a seatbelt. Once in awhile, y/n would rest her chin against her shoulder. And if she were tuckered out from swimming or any of the other adventures the Losers were up against that day, he would find her dozing on his back. The breeze from his ET Kuwahara ripping through the hot air felt nice and a kind of superiority swelled in Richie’s chest for being the cause of that breeze.

The same breeze swept over y/n and Richie. The group was now long gone from their eye line, but they would’ve been anyway because of the path Richie and y/n would take to get home.

Richie had been oddly silent until they reached their houses; side by side, just like how the two friends stood. y/n took it upon herself to break that silence, but his jitters were contagious.

“We’re meeting up at the quarry tomorrow.” She turned to face him as she stood on the highest step of her doorstep. He was still taller than her.

“Yeah, so I’ve heard.” Richie tried his best to avoid her steady watch that followed him, but it was hard. He so desperately wanted to see the twinkle in her ambitious, yet caring eyes which he missed. It wasn’t looking at her that was wrong, it was his thoughts—and Richie knew that—he just couldn’t bring himself to look at her while thinking those thoughts.

“You’re coming right?” Insecurity wavered in her voice. Richie was being weird. Richie was always weird, but something was… wrong. He didn’t greet her the first day she came home. y/n eventually concluded that she was just being selfish and that Richie was probably busy that day. But now Richie was being distant. Richie was never distant.

“’Ve been thinkin’ about it. You know I wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to see Bev in her swimsuit—”

“Beep beep.” y/n wanted to laugh. She wanted to assume he was joking and think nothing more of it because that’s who Richie is. A jokester. Her heart couldn’t help but pang at the words and instantaneously the palms of her hands felt clammy. “Can you meet me beforehand? I thought we could go together?”

“Together?” Richie’s voice cracked.

“Yeah, goofball.” Again, her eyes searched for his under his mess of brown hair and coke bottle glasses, but they were playing a serious game of hide-and-seek. “I mean, it only makes sense.” She thought fast. “We live next door to each other.” And Richie realized this was only an act of convenience.

“Shore, shore, senhorritaa.” Richie couldn’t find the courage in himself—only in one of his Voices and y/n smiled, suddenly remembering how often he’d do impressions when they were kids.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” y/n said curtly.

“Tomorrow,” Richie replied cooly when he was anything but. Especially when he paced his own room, the same way he did in Stan’s, when he should’ve been at her door already.

He was only wearing the swim trunks (he had since he was fifteen and hadn’t bothered to replace) that resembled the shirts he wore, and he was debating on if he should put on a shirt or leave as he is. Or leave at all. It was going to be hot today. The weather forecast predicted to be in the nineties. Richie didn’t want to show up indecent, but he also didn’t want to sweat the whole walk there.

Two—that somehow felt like ten—aggravating minutes later, Richie stood at y/n’s door wearing a yellow shirt over his dark blue, tropical swim shorts. His forefinger hovered over the doorbell for a few seconds until he finally bit the bullet and took the bait. You’re gonna do it eventually, just do it now.

It swung open excitedly, revealing his favorite girl who stood behind it. “Come in!” She said and wasted no time to lead him up to her room.

Richie took a moment to catch his breath and take in his new surroundings. Her room seemed unchanged at first and he laughed at the grey, Victorian-style wallpaper that neither y/n nor her parents had taken down yet. But the longer he stood there, the more he noticed how bare it was. The room was stripped of any decorations she once had (except for her bed and desk)—replaced by brown moving boxes. It became apparent to Richie how much time she had spent away from the group. Even though she was here with them now, she had fabricated a life outside of the Losers Club. That fact hurt him, but a sort of curiosity burned inside of him. He wanted to know the new her, but they also had to get to the quarry at a certain time.

“When do we gotta be there by?” Richie asked. He was drawn out of his daydream by his own words and noticed y/n who was turned around in front of him. She was wearing a black, ruffled bikini that complimented her skin beautifully but barely covered the parts that should.

“Two-thirty… but I don’t think they’d mind if we show up early or late.” y/n shrugged as her fingers fumbled with the bikini strings that tied the top. “Can you help me with this?” She turned to him. If Richie picked any time to finally meet her eyes, he picked the worst timing. y/n’s neck craned to the side whilst she still struggled with her top. He knew this wouldn’t end well for him.

“Why’re you asking me?” Richie feigned a chuckle but walked over to her regardless. She angled her body dangerously close to his causing Richie to bite his lip, imprisoning the sharp gasp that threatened to depart from his lips. Cautiously, his hands took the strings from her and tied them into a sloppy bow with a double knot so it wouldn’t come undone anytime soon.

“’Cause you’re here, Tozier.” He made eye contact with her. “What’s been up with you lately?”

“What are you talkin’ about?”

“You’ve been distant… really distant.” y/n’s honesty made it hard for Richie to catch a break. “Do you think I haven’t noticed when you pulled away from me yesterday and…”

“And what?” Richie probed. His hands rested on either sides of his hips. He tried to hide any sign of nervousness in his voice, but it was hard to fake what you were.

“It’s stupid.” Obviously, y/n didn’t want to drop the topic of conversation. She didn’t want to coerce the boy into something either.

“Nothing you say, think, or do is stupid, y/n/n.” Richie chuckled once more though this time y/n could tell he wasn’t faking anything.

“You didn’t greet me when I first came home.” She mumbled, hoping he wouldn’t hear her. But he did. “Why was that?”

“I dunno… Bill told me something.” Richie wanted to drop a brick over his head because honestly, how stupid did he sound right now? y/n didn’t have to say anything. The skepticism in her eyes and her bottom lip between her teeth was enough to prompt him further. “He said you have a boyfriend and I just—”

“You just what?” Her words were mysterious. Richie couldn’t seem to read her anymore because the only telling expression she had was a raised eyebrow and cocked head. But that could mean anything.

“I really like you, okay? And how are you supposed to greet someone you’re in love with after not seeing them for three years when you can’t hug them or-or kiss them cos they went off and got a stinkin’ high and mighty boyfriend in New York? New York, for Christ’s sake. It was hard enough to look at you before but now—” Richie’s rambling was quickly cut off when y/n’s arms wrapped around his neck and her lips pressed against his. Her fingers tangled in the loops of his hair and his glasses pushed up against her face. “What was that for?” Richie asked, completely dumbfounded.

“Stop listening to Bill,” y/n instructed. She was amused by the boy in front of her.

“What?”

“I don’t have a boyfriend.” She brushed a strand of hair from out of his eyes and adjusted his now crooked glasses.

“But Bill said—”

“Bill’s stupid.” Her lips met his again. The kiss was longer this time. y/n’s were soft and tasted like the artificial cherry flavoring from her chapstick she had applied prior; a contradiction to the faint scent of tangerines that clung to her bare skin and the spicy bite of peppermint on her tongue.

His wet tongue traced the inside of her mouth, lingering on the inside of her cheek. y/n bit down on the fullest part of Richie’s bottom lip tentatively, making sure not to hurt him. She could feel his smile lines against her thumb when she removed her left hand from his hair, using it to cup his cheek. y/n pulled from him abruptly, leaving Richie floored and panting.

“You don’t think the crew would care if we showed up late?” Richie asked, his eyebrows wiggling with the new burst of confidence that kiss had given him.

y/n shook her head. A grin bestowed itself upon her swollen lips. Her arms re-enveloped themselves around his figure that towered over her. Richie copied her actions. Except his hands ghosted across the back of her naked torso covered in goosebumps from the spur of the moment. They created an invisible trail to her clothed butt, cueing y/n to jump up.

She did and Richie’s large hands supported her legs that wound around his waist. “Do you wanna…?”

“Yes,” y/n whispered into his ear. At that, a shiver crawled down Richie’s spine.

It became harder for Richie to contain his excitement as he walked the two of them over to y/n’s bed. He was gentle when he set her down on the mattress covered in grey sheets and stuffed pillows. The feeling of the cotton bed sleeves cooled her hot skin although she would need an icepack to completely bring her temperature down.

Richie was on top of her. His lips tickled face that he left quick, unperceivable marks on. When she got the chance, y/n took in his appearance thoughtfully. It was evident that his unruly hair was thrown in all different directions due to y/n’s hands that were knotted in it. There was a blush on his freckled cheeks that resembled a sunburn and he wore a look. It was soft and welcoming like he was an astrologist who had just found out she was responsible for putting the stars in the sky.

But the stars were her eyes as they held the same sparkle from yesterday at the theatre.

“Have you…have you?” Richie’s eyes hesitantly raked down her half nude body from behind his glasses, still held together with adhesive tape. They couldn’t help but slide down the slope of his long nose and y/n pushed them up for him.

“No,” y/n said bashfully. She ducked her head down only for it to be lifted back up with Richie’s thumb and forefinger.

“Do you want this?” He tried not to pose the question awkwardly, but how can you make a question like that not awkward?

“Of course.” y/n’s hand, still playing with the hairs on the back of his head, guided his face towards hers. The two met in a sweet kiss for a sweet second. “As long as it’s with you.” Her tone was confident and assuring, leaving Richie with no extra questions.

“You really know how to flatter a guy, y/n/n.” Richie still marveled at the sight splayed out before him and a melodious sound filled his ears. It was her laugh, but all of his senses seemed to be amplified to the max during this moment.

Both of her hands coasted down to the hem of his stupid, banana-colored shirt that served as a barrier between the two. Her light touches made his breath catch in his throat, released in a throaty gasp, and his once loose shorts now felt strained and uncomfortable. Ignoring the occasional breaths that left Richie’s perfect mouth, y/n’s fingers tugged on the end of his shirt; a signal for him to take the damn thing off.

Instantly, his shirt was off and thrown on her floor. In his head, he thanked that her room wasn’t fully unpacked yet but another part of him thought he and y/n wouldn’t even make it to the quarry. y/n ran two fingers down his smooth chest; the tips of her fingers sent a tingling sensation throughout his being. Richie seized them once they reached his abdomen, his grasp firm but tender. Slowly, he led her fingers with his to the crotch of her bikini. The black material was soaked through. Richie smirked to himself, she’d have to change again before they left for the quarry. Or they could just not go at all.

Her own touch had elicited a moan from y/n. Her head fell back on the grey cushions, exposing her pure neck that begged to be marked. The sighs of pleasure coming from the girl beneath him while he directed her hand that was now slipping into the bottoms of her bikini felt straight from one of his fantasies. He could only hope he wasn’t dreaming, and if he were, he’d just have to remember it for another lonely night in the sheets.

y/n’s fingers danced over her clit. She inhaled sharply at the teasing feeling. Richie’s hand moved to tightly hold her wrist, the contact burned against her already hot skin. His mind was drawing a blank again; lost in the moment. Lost in her. Another moan left her mouth, her breath hit his face, and Richie imagined how she touched herself when she was away at school. Did she think about him the same way he thought about her? Did she wonder what lied behind his pants like how he had on multiple occasions?

For the time being, Richie’s questions would have to be left unanswered. He felt her hand leave her bathing suit and his hand detached itself from her wrist. A blotchy red handprint was left in its place from his harsh grip and before Richie could ask if she was okay, y/n was kicking off the at once restricting clothing. Her lower half was now completely revealed, all for him. Vulnerability, a feeling y/n had only felt on the plane ride alone to New York and on her first date with Trevor, took its rightful place in her chest that lifted and fell at a rapid speed. Her thighs instinctively rubbed together, part out of insecurity, and also to relieve herself, but Richie stopped them before they could make another move.

His right palm had settled on her left thigh, gently separating it from its counterpart while his left palm kept busy as it laid flat on her mattress and held him up. Richie’s index finger toyed with her clit, much like she had done before, and then probed her entrance. Her walls generously coated his first finger with the same nucleus that slicked her now tainted swimsuit. His middle finger entered with the same proficiency and care. Richie’s fingers were long and slender, and they did well to effortlessly curl into the spot that y/n could never seem to find on her own. Richie grunted at the sound of another pretty sound leaving y/n’s pretty lips. But this sound was different.

“Richie,” she moaned breathlessly. Richie, again, came painfully aware of the tent in his shorts. But this time was for y/n, not him.

In and out. In and out. His fingers moved at the relatively same, slow, and predictable pace that didn’t fail to evoke the dirty noises coming from y/n which might suggest otherwise. He continued these movements until her pulse picked up and a coil inside snapped.

Richie Tozier was y/n’s first orgasm.

And second, as he withdrew his hand from her, swapping his fingers for him. He stripped himself of his shorts so that the two now pressed together, even—this excluded the upper half of y/n that was still covered.

Richie hovered over the girl. The girl who moved next door at the ripe age of five, not knowing the impact she’d have on his life. The girl who crafted him and the Losers Club individual friendship bracelets that were tied around his wrist to this day. The girl who moved away too soon. The girl who’d share his first time with him. The girl he loved.

“Can I?” He asked timidly. The thumb and index finger of his right hand pinched at the black strap which prevented her top from falling down—which, ironically, was exactly what Richie wanted. y/n nodded. Her eyes were still shut from the intense euphoria she was still recovering from. First, Richie unclipped the back strap. Then, his hands moved to the thinner strap he’d tied earlier. His knees were holding him up, straddling over y/n’s waist. A wave of frustration overcame him when his fingers clumsily messed with the frocking double-knotted bow. A quiet mutter, “gotcha”, unintentionally rolled off of Richie’s tongue.

y/n giggled at his antics—not to make fun of him, but because he was cute.

The constrictive article of clothing fell from her bodice, uncovering her hardened nipples and flawless breasts.

Richie ducked his head down. Instead of meeting her lips, his mouth wrapped around the still perky bud. Licking, and sucking until breaths turned to whines and whines turned to his name.

Richie. Richie. Richie.

After giving both the same amount of attention, he kissed her. His lips brushed against hers and time felt like it had somehow stopped when y/n felt him enter her.

It was daunting at first. And Richie thumbed away a tear that raced down y/n’s cheek when she had finally taken his whole length.

“Tell me when you want me to move,” Richie murmured—his nose brushing against her cheekbone as he did so.

“Rich…Richie.”

“Yes, gorgeous?” y/n could melt at the nickname, but she didn’t; the rest of her senses too carried away in his intoxicating scent of Spice… Something… and the stimulation of him filling her.

“Can you move?” y/n asked in quiet, broken words.

Richie didn’t say anything. He just slipped out from her only to push back in. The sensation of her tight walls around him was enough to be the reason of his gasps and the resounding echoes of her name that pleasantly escaped his parted lips. His thrusts were steady and gradual—much like his fingers from earlier but… different.

y/n’s back arched into Richie’s front. Both of their pants quickened, and y/n didn’t have to ask to know what this meant.

“Richie,” y/n mewled. Richie’s pace accelerated, pulling them both to their highs. y/n’s eyes rolled back from under her heavy lids. On the other hand, the boy above her had frantically removed himself from her. She would finish on his fingers like once before and he didn’t need any more ushering to find his end.

“y/n.” The moan belonged to Richie this time, and he collapsed onto the newly soiled sheets next to the girl whose name he just spoke. “I love you.” Richie didn’t intend for the words to come out. They just did. He suspected y/n was none the wiser, still trying to catch her breath from when she came.

“What?”

Richie was wrong.

“I love you,” Richie repeated, but he hadn’t intended to say it again either. He was running on autopilot now. His eyes squeezed closed, preparing for y/n to yell at him. Why would you drop the bomb like this? To kick him out.

But she didn’t.

“I love you, too.” She wasn’t facing him, so he had to trust she meant the words. He had to trust she wasn’t actually repulsed at the thought of the guy who’d just stolen her virginity and would never talk to him afterward.

“You…you do?” Richie realized he was laying butt-naked on top of y/n’s sheets and he wouldn’t be shocked if his face were mistaken for a tomato right about now.

“Yeah.” The bed shifted under her turning weight because she was now laying on her side, facing him. Her eyes roamed his milky skin and her fingers apprehensively traced an outline on his arm. Richie didn’t think he would ever get used to her silk skin and feather fingertips. “You’re supposed to lose it to the person you love, right?”

Richie’s heart was already digging its grave. “Yeah.” He swallowed dryly. His hand found hers—the one that was inking an invisible fence on his skin—and weaved his fingers with hers. He didn’t know what else to say but he didn’t have to.

“You still wear this?” y/n was incredulous and judging by the tone of her voice, Richie figured she found the friendship bracelet he still wore. Treasured.

“It’d make me a monster to trash it.” Richie faced her now and y/n laughed whilst her pink lips grazed his knuckles.

“I still have mine.” She raised her eyebrow. Was this a challenge?

“Pish, posh, dahhling. Proof or it’s not real,” he said in his god-awful British-man Voice.

y/n let go of his hand, leaving it for the coldness to slowly eat away. She leapt off her bed and dashed to her desk. She opened one of the side drawers and fished around for a dinky little yarn bracelet that would match his, only she used red and yellow string rather than blue and green.

She skipped over to him, not caring that she was undressed or that they had to be somewhere. A braided bracelet, similar to his, dangled in front of Richie’s tired face and he smiled. Unlike Richie’s, y/n’s bracelet was in perfect condition—just like it had looked from when they were ten.

“I can make you another one,” y/n said, noticing how worn Richie’s was. It was almost falling apart.

“Nah. I like the rugged look.” Richie bared his teeth to her. It must’ve been the fifth time she laughed that day.

“Do you still wanna go?” y/n asked. She didn’t meet his gaze; too focused on slipping the bracelet over her hand. It seemed she had outgrown the thing.

“Go where?” Richie hummed and snaked his arms around her once more.

“The quarry.” His eyes widened and suddenly Richie didn’t feel tired anymore.

“Do we have to?” He whined as if he were still a child.

“I guess not.” y/n gave in; relaxing into his arms. “You can help me unpack.”

“Or…” Richie’s lips pecked her forehead.

“I guess there’s a reason why they call you Trashmouth.” y/n nuzzled into the crook of his neck. His fingers drew lazy shapes on her bare back in attempts to convince her. But y/n didn’t need convincing. Now that she found a home in his arms, she would never leave.

[luke-patterson-owns-my-soul]

The Intern

The Intern: A Luke x Reader One Shot

Luke Patterson x Reader

Title: The Intern

Words: 2,755

Summary:, Sunset Curve are posing for the photos for their new album. Y/N is the photographer’s intern who catches Luke’s eye.

TW: None

Author’s notes: This idea popped into my head after Charlie posted the photo of him being photographed. It kinda got away from me and went on a bit of a tangent, but I quite liked the outcome. I hope you do too.

“Guys, this way please. That’s right, just there. Perfect.”

Your boss, Caleb Covington, photographer to the stars, filled the large studio with his vibrant voice and even more vibrant clothing choices as you sit behind the laptop making sure the shots coming through are suitable for use.

All you’ve ever wanted is to be a photographer, and this internship was the first step on the ladder to the career of your dreams.

“Hey, Y/N, can you do me a favor sweetheart?” You stand and walk over to where Caleb is adjusting the lighting as the guys of Sunset Curve go for an outfit change.

“What’s up, boss?”

“There’s a thrift store a block over can you run over and grab whatever scarves they have?” He hands you a handful of money. This was common, Caleb would start a shoot, get hit with a vision, and then send you off to chase down obscure props. “Also, as many fake flowers as you can. I’ll make sure everyone takes a lunch break while you’re out, so you don’t need to rush.”

“Sure thing. Give me an hour?”

“Take your time.” Caleb reattached the camera to the tripod in front of him. “Also, take the small canon with you. There’s some great street art that could be used for these guys.”

“Thanks, boss.”

You grab the bag containing a small point and click camera and shoulder the strap. As you leave the studio, you realize how supportive Caleb is of your dreams despite the bad rumors that are constantly floating around about him. He’s never given you occasion to doubt him and he allows you to use the equipment in the studio whenever you want, and often encourages you to take photos from behind the scenes.

Walking along the sunny New York streets, you take photos of the amazing architecture and as you near the thrift store, you see the street art Caleb told you about. It’s gorgeous. Six feet tall, bright blue angel wings cover a brick wall and you take a few shots, change angles and take some more. Eventually, you lower the camera and enter the thrift store.

Within ten minutes, you have a bagful of scarves and a handful of fake flowers and are ready to head back, not before stopping off at your favorite delicatessen to buy your lunch.

Back at the studio, Caleb and the guys are sitting around a round table, chatting.

“Where do you want these, Caleb?” You ask waving the flowers at him.

“Oh great you’re back. Just hand them over to Kayla in props, we’ll work out what to do with them after lunch. Come and join us.”

It wasn’t very often Caleb invited you to mix with his clients, so you jump at the chance. You pull out a chair and sit down as Caleb introduces you to the four guys that are around your age.

“Y/N, this is Reggie, Bobby, Alex, and Luke.” Each of the guys give her a wave in greeting, but there’s something about the last guy, Luke, that has you locking eyes with him for a moment. With a cough, you look away and take a bite of your sandwich, but you can still feel his hazel eyes on you.

:: ::

Once lunch is over, the guys head back into make-up for a touch up while Caleb rearranges the while space, placing the flowers you bought around the space. The scarves are hung in the window, which is opened to let in a breeze, moving the material in waves.

As he works, you upload the photos of the street art you took and begin to edit them.

“Wow, those are amazing.” A voice behind you makes you jump. Turning around, you see Luke staring at the screen in front of you. “Did you take those?”

“Yeah, I did. Thanks.”

“Y/N, are those street art shots ready yet?” Caleb calls out as he walks over to join you and Luke. “Oh, honey. These are fantastic and will look amazing as a backdrop for the guys.” He turns to Luke. “What do you think?”

“Hell yeah. This album cover is gonna be gnarly.”

You feel your face heat up from the blush that’s creeping over your skin at the compliments you’re not used to receiving. Feeling somewhat embarrassed, you turn away and focus back on the screen, allowing the sounds around you to fade into a pleasant buzz as you work.

“Girl, you have an admirer.” Flynn the make-up artist Caleb always uses creeps up behind you.

“What are you talking about?” you ask, trying to concentrate, but the guys of Sunset Curve are in your direct eyeline above the lip of the open laptop and they all look amazing.

“That guy, Luke. He can’t stop looking at you.” At her words, you can’t help but look over at him where he’s standing on a windowsill, made into a silhouette by the sunlight flooding through the glass behind him. You lock eyes for longer than is necessary. “Oh, you like him…” Flynn nudges your shoulder with hers.

“Shut up,” you hiss, worried people will hear her.

“Nuh uh. I’m making the most of this. Can I just say, the guy smells gorgeous?” With a laugh, Flynn retreats back to her corner of the studio and begins packing up her equipment. You watch her and when she turns to wave at you, you can’t help but flip her off, making her laugh even harder.

As the day draws to an end, you’ve packed away all of Caleb’s gear and locked it in the huge safe in his office, apart from the camera he’s been using all day. Sunset Curve are with Flynn having make-up removed and have changed back into their own clothes.

As you and Caleb upload the photos to his laptop, you can’t help but stare at Luke’s bare arms exposed by the cut off band tee he’s wearing.

“I’m just gonna grab some air, boss.” You tell Caleb, suddenly needing to be out of the studio.

“Why don’t you call it a day? I can finish up with these later this evening.”

With a grin, you give him a quick kiss on the cheek before going to grab your bag.

“Hey, Y/N,” Flynn called out from her corner. So much for a quick escape. You head over to where she’s putting the last of her stuff away in her huge case on wheels.

“What’s up?” You ask, feeling four pairs of eyes on you as you approach Flynn, avoiding looking at the guys watching you.

“Are we going for a drink?” she asks you, finally looking up at you.

“Well, I wasn’t planning on it.” Immediately, you regret saying the words as Flynn’s face screws up. It’s Friday, you’ve both been working crazy hours for Caleb, and you know you both need to let off steam.

“Oh, come onnnnnn. Julie’s meeting us.” Julie, the third in your trio of friends, worked as a studio musician nearby. “First round of shots is on me.” Flynn was in wheedle mode and knew you couldn’t resist. You heard chuckles from behind you and turned to look at Sunset curve seemingly enjoying the show. You’d forgotten they were there and felt your blush return.

“Oh, go on then, but I need to go home and get changed. I’ve been in these clothes all day.”

“Honey, no. You forget where we work.” Flynn grabbed your hand and pulled you behind a changing screen where an outfit was already laid out for you.

“This looks suspiciously li-” Flynn held a slender finger against your lips.

“Just get changed.” She disappeared, leaving you alone, You could hear her chatting as you pulled your clothes off and pulled on the ones she’d picked out for you, knowing there was no way she’d let you get away with wearing anything else. As you pulled on the cut off band tee, you were glad you wore on of your favorite bras – a black lacy number – as the arm holes were crazy huge.

The skinny jeans had been rolled, but because you had on heavy duty combat boots, you unrolled them then pulled your boots on.

“You look great.” Flynn reappeared, armed with a few essentials. With a sigh you let her attack your face with eyeliner, mascara, and a bright red lipstick. “Perfect, even if I do say so myself. Fluff up your hair, then get your booty out here.”

When you finally emerged from behind the screen, the conversation between Flynn and Sunset Curve – why were they still even there? – paused as all five of them turned to look at you. Reggie, at least you thought that was his name. Beyond Luke, you were a bit fuzzy, let out a low whistle.

“Dang, girl.”

“I hate you.” You hissed under your breath at Flynn who was grinning like a fool.

“No you don’t.” She linked arms with you and led the six of you out of the building.

“You could have told me you’d invited them.” You spoke softly so you weren’t overheard.

“Would you have come if I had?”

“Probably not.”

“That’s why. Now, I need to call Julie, make sure she’s on her way.” Letting go of your arm, Flynn pulled her cell out of her bag and held it up to her ear.

“Y/N, are you okay?” Luke appeared next to you. Flynn had been right he did smell good.

“Yeah, I’m good. I was looking forward to a long bath, but Flynn likes to get her own way.”

“I noticed.” Luke laughed as the girl in question linked arms with Reggie and Alex behind them. “She’s a force of nature, huh?”

“She’s something alright, I’ll decide later once I’ve had a few drinks.” He laughed again.

They arrived at their favorite bar where Julie was waiting outside for them.

“Y/N, you look amazing.” She soke as she hugged you.

“Thanks, I’ve been ‘Flynned’”

Flynn rolled her eyes as she made introductions as they entered the bar. Instantly, the smell of beer and floor polish assaulted your nose and you felt yourself relax. This bar had been like the fourth friend to you, Julie, and Flynn while you’d all been at college.

“Shots?” Flynn asked, making her way to the bar while the rest of you found a booth big enough for all of you.

“Shots, and lots of them.” You called out as you slid in, Luke following you, his firm thigh pressing against yours, heat flooding through you.

:: ::

A few hours later, you’re nicely buzzed from the alcohol and when the music starts, you drag Julie and Flynn out of the booth and onto the small dance floor in the corner of the bar.

For most of the night, the seven of you have been chatting about nothing in particular, and you couldn’t help but be hyper aware of how close Luke was sitting next to you and how much attention he paid you as you spoke.

“Girl, you and Luke. That’s some chemistry going on.” Julie spoke loudly over the music. Automatically, you look over at the booth where you see Luke watching you while his friends are talking amongst themselves. It isn’t unpleasant being watched by a guy that good looking.

“Right? I saw it earlier and had to sort out this little excursion.” You glared at Flynn playfully as the three of you moved to the music surrounding you.

“Oh, Nick’s here.” Julie ran off the dance floor and leaped into her boyfriend’s arms, peppering him with drunken kisses. You and Flynn grin at one another at the display. Usually, Julie was more subdued, but tequila had a habit of helping her lose her inhibitions.

“Ten bucks that they leave within five minutes.” You say to Flynn who laughs and gives you a high five. True to form, less than four minutes later, Julie waves her goodbyes and leaves hand in hand with Nick. Flynn hands you the money which you tuck into your pocket.

“I need the bathroom. I’ll be back.” Flynn slides away, leaving you to dance alone. It doesn’t bother you feel the beat of the music throughout your entire body.

Looking back over at the booth, you see Luke is sitting alone, still watching you. You can’t help but smile at him as the song changes from something upbeat to soft and slow. People begin to leave the area around you and you look around for Flynn, unable to see her.

“She bailed.” Luke spoke directly into your ear, his breath warm against your skin. It makes you shiver, and the feeling isn’t exactly unpleasant.

“Of course she did.” You groan, thankful for the bet you won which should just about cover an uber home.

“I guess I should do the same, then.” You can’t help but look up into Luke’s eyes, still swaying to the music – or is that due to the tequila?

“Before you go, can I have this dance?” he asks. Nodding, you step into his arms, noticing how firm and warm they are wrapped around your waist. Your own arms snake around his neck and the two of you move to the sounds of Ed Sheeran singing about his Perfect girlfriend.

“I never expected you to dance like this.” You say to Luke, not quite sure where it comes from.

“It’s easy with the right partner.” He smiles down at you, making your heart feel as if it’s about to short circuit. He really does have a pretty smile.

“Smooth talker.” Is all you can think of in response as you both continue to sway. As the song comes to an end, you reluctantly pull yourself out of Luke’s arms. “I guess I should call an uber.” You murmur, not moving off the dancefloor, enjoying the feel of Luke’s bright eyes on you.

“Sure.” He doesn’t move either. “Wait, how far do you live? Maybe we can share one?”

“Four blocks.” You shrug.

“How about we walk? Why pay for an uber for a ten to twenty minute walk?” He wasn’t wrong, but you rarely walked the streets alone after a night of drinking.

It’s cool, but not cold when you both step outside, the doorman giving you the thumbs up, making you roll your eyes.

“You don’t have to do this.” You tell Luke.

“Y/N, I want to.” He holds out his hand for you to take hold of. You oblige, a jolt of electricity running up your arm. “Which way?”

You start walking in the direction of the apartment you share with Flynn, Luke falling into step next to you, still holding your hand. A comfortable silence falls over the two of you, and you keep your gaze in front of you. The feel of Luke’s hand clutching yours is sending your body into overdrive and your brain doesn’t quite now how to process it.

Sooner than you’d like, you stop outside your building.

“This is me.” You can hear the disappointment in your own voice and see a flash of something on Luke’s face.

“Well, I guess I should say goodnight then.” He says, his voice soft, almost a whisper.

“Maybe you should.” Neither of you have released the other’s hand. You simply stand on the sidewalk, looking at one another.

Your brain is screaming at you that you don’t know this guy, that you only just met him, but your heart is telling you to do something to stop him walking away. It’s been a while since you’ve had this kind of connection with someone and it’s been even longer since you brought a guy back to the apartment,

The pink tip of Luke’s tongue pokes out and runs around his plump lips, attracting your attention. His deep chuckle makes you aware he knows you’re thinking about more than saying goodbye. Without a word, he bends his head and places a gentle kiss against your lips.

Before it started, it was over, and he pulled away. Using the hand not holding yours, he reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his cell.

“Can I get your number?”

You enter your number into his phone before he places another soft kiss on your lips, lets go of your hand, and begins to walk back in the direction you came from.

“Hey, Luke?” you call out, trying not to worry about the morning. He turns to face you, a question in his eyes. “Want to come up… for coffee?”

[smol-and-grumpy]

Light My Fire - CH11

Pairing: CEO!Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: She always thought her boss was an ill-tempered man, but when he presents her with a proposition she can’t quite deny, she gets to know him better. It’s not bad, right? Because all she has to do is being fake married to him for six months, sounds do-able, right? Right.

Warnings: Flangst, NSFW

WC: 2612

Please share your thoughts with me, I’d love to hear your feedback.

Beta’d by @deanwanddamons​​​​​​​​ <3

SERIES MATSTERLIST

BECOME A PATRON ~ BUY ME A COFFEE

Y/N watches as Ruby comes back out of Dean’s office. Ruby’s smiling but her smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes. She knows that Dean wants to see Ruby first thing because he wants to make sure that she is following his instructions on booking a trip for them. And suddenly, she feels guilty because Ruby knows that they’re going on their fake honeymoon, and she kind of hopes that Ruby’s going to be okay with it. 

“Oh my god,” Ruby groans, and lets herself fall into her chair, “I’m so fucking hungover.”

“Ugh, tell me about it,” Y/N agrees with her friend.

Ruby begins to work in silence and Y/N frowns. After a while she looks up from her computer screen and speaks up, “So, you wanna tell me about last night or?”

Her friend lets out a sigh, “Oh my fucking god, I’m so glad you asked!”

Y/N giggles. Ruby’s always so fucking dramatic, she loves it.

“So, did you go home with who I think you went home with?”

“My god, Y/N, it was magical! Magical, I tell you!” Ruby gushes, “But let me book that trip for you first and then we’ll go grab a coffee.”

“You okay with me going on a honeymoon?”

“Duh, I’m so happy for you! While you’re there, you can make him fall in love with you for real!”

“Ruby!”

“What?” Her friend gasps, “Just saying. I mean, have you seen how he treats you, how he looks at you? The woman who gets to marry him for real is one lucky bitch! I wish that was you because in all honesty, you deserve everything good, alright?”

“Yeah,” She says and doesn’t know what else to add to it, but looking at Ruby, she doesn’t have to because Ruby’s already on the phone with the travel agency.

*

Turns out that they didn’t have time for that coffee but they did go grab lunch at the coffee place close by and sit down on a bench right in front of their office building to have a little chat.

Y/N looks at her sandwich suspiciously. She’s still not sure if it’ll stay down. She takes a bite nonetheless, because she knows that she needs something in her stomach if she wants to survive the rest of the day. 

“So, Sam,” Y/N says while she chews. She looks over to Ruby, sees her friend tense up and she sees the blush in Ruby’s face. The woman rarely blushes so it’s even cuter to see it.

“Yeah, Sam,” Ruby tucks her brown hair behind her ear and bites down on her bottom lip as not to whimper out at the details of what happened last night.

“So,” Y/N raises her eyebrow in question.

“So,” Ruby gushes.

Y/N rolls her eyes and groans out in frustration, “Ruby! My god, just tell me, I’m dying here!” 

Her friend starts to giggle and the redness spreads to her cleavage. 

“Did you?” She asks, hopes that Ruby will finally tell her what went down (or rather who went down) last night.

Ruby’s chewing on her bite of sandwich and speaks with her mouth full, “We wanted to, but we didn’t, no,”

“What?” The bite Y/N took almost falls out of her mouth.

“I’m telling you, he’s a real gentleman, Y/N! Said he didn’t want to take advantage of me being drunk,” Ruby takes another bite, her lips curl up around the sandwich, “But I felt it.”

“You felt it?” She frowns.

“We slept in the same bed. And he was hard because we made out.” Ruby’s grinning at the image on her mind, “God, he’s such a good kisser. Just the way I like it. Rough but tender, and he’s big.”

Okay, so they’ve established that both Winchesters are gentlemen and they are both good kissers. Great. Life’s not fucking fair that two brothers have it all and they can easily put every other men to shame. 

Y/N frowns some more, but in a playful way, “Big?”

Ruby sighs, “Yeah, big hands, big feet, big—” She wriggles with her eyebrows, “—You know what!”

“Ooookay,” Y/N snorts out, “That’s too much information, but thanks for letting me know,”

“We’re going on a date tonight.” Ruby says nonchalantly, as if it’s no fucking big deal.

“You what?” 

“Yeah,” Her friend smiles, “And I’m not drinking if you know what I mean,” Ruby wriggles with her eyebrows again. She should stop doing that because Y/N knows exactly what she means without that stupid eyebrow wriggling.

Y/N’s truly happy for Ruby and she’s super happy that Sam treats her right.

When they finish their lunch, they notice a limousine coming to a halt right in front of the building and Amara steps out.

Oh, no.

That’s right, Sam has a meeting with her today. She almost forgot.

“Ugh, I don’t like her at all,” She says and Ruby wrinkles her nose at Amara too.

They walk into the building right ahead of the woman, hoping to get away on time but Amara’s close on their heels and the woman already starts to drop a remark, “Nice dress, where do you get it? Thrift store? Your husband didn’t even give you enough money to buy something decent?”

Y/N bites on her tongue so not to bite back at that stupid bitch. She really doesn’t feel like confrontation, and especially not one with people who she couldn’t care less about. It’s just not worth her time or energy, nor is it worth her patience that’s running thin today. So they just walk ahead to the elevator while Amara has to report to the front desk. Crisis averted.

After her lunch, Y/N sits down to do more work when she sees Dean walking out of the meeting room. He stops at her desk and asks her to bring him coffee. He had a meeting about investing in another company on the west coast, but she thinks that it might have not gone well because he looks a little downcast. 

“You okay?” She asks, and Dean snaps out of his trance. 

“Huh,” He sighs, “Yeah.”

“You had anything to eat yet?” She looks at him, concerned.

“Yeah,” He breathes out, “Garth ordered pizza for the meeting.”

“Okay,” Y/N says and smiles as an attempt to cheer him up, “One coffee coming right up.”

Dean smirks at her, “Thanks, I’ll be in my office. What’s my schedule?” 

“Well, you’re free for another hour.”

“Good, I need a break.”

He turns on his heels to walk into his office.

Ruby’s staring at her, “Wow, he’s not in a good mood, isn’t he?” 

“Doesn’t seem like it.” She agrees. 

“But he didn’t lash out, so at least there’s that.” Her friend shrugs, as she starts to type in an email.

“Yeah,” Y/N sighs, “At least there’s that.”

She doesn’t really know what it is but seeing Dean like that does not make her feel good at all. She likes the happy Dean, the playful Dean. Not a Dean who thinks he lost a goddamn war.

Walking along the hallway with Dean’s coffee in hand, she knocks at his office door first before she goes in. 

He’s sitting at his desk, looking over a contract that she has placed there while he was in the meeting. He doesn’t seem to notice her.

Closing the door behind her, she walks over to him and sets the coffee on the desk, “Your coffee,”

“Huh,” Dean looks up from the papers, “Yeah, thank you.”

“Is there anything else I can do for you?” She asks but Dean’s lost in his work so she turns to leave. Doesn’t feel like disturbing him more than she has to. 

“Wait,” He suddenly says, “Come back,” 

She stops mid room and turns around to see him smiling. 

“Sorry, I had to finish reading that paragraph,” He explains and she smiles back at him, walks back to stand beside him. 

Dean moves his chair back, takes her wrist to pull her into his lap, making her yelp up and he chuckles at that. His arms are quick around her, and he rests his chin on her shoulder, “‘M glad we’re going on honeymoon tomorrow. I need a fucking break.”

“Are you okay?” She asks because he starts to worry her.

“I’m better with you here, yeah,” 

She can hear him smile a little and he places a kiss on the top of her head as his hands go around her hips. He maneuvers her around on his lap so she’s straddling him and she scrambles to get off, but he holds her in place.

“Dean, someone could walk in,” Her hands are braced on his chest and she looks into his face to find a grin, bright and wide. 

“No one dares to come in here, and you know it.” He whispers and pecks her lips. 

That’s true. Nobody ever goes near his office unless he’s calling for them to meet him. But still, she thinks it’s a little more than inappropriate to be sitting in his lap in his office when he is her fucking boss. “Still, we shouldn’t,” She says, and tries to get away but she’s weak herself, her body wants to stay, too.

Dean cradles her face with one hand, paints his thumb along her bottom lip before he pulls her close by the back of her neck, kissing her soft and deep. She hates that she loves it. Loves his kisses. They make her weaker than she already is.

She’s getting awfully wet down there and Dean’s getting hard, she can feel the friction of his bulge against her pussy.

“Your pants,” She says as a warning because she doesn’t really necessarily want to ruin his pants with how wet she is. 

He chuckles against her lips, kisses her once more, hard and demanding before he parts. He rests his forehead on hers, “You could take them off,” His hand goes to her breasts, kneads it through the fabric of her dress, fingers pinching at her nipple until they peek which in turn, makes her arch her back and drive her cunt harder into Dean’s hard cock. 

“We can’t do that,” She whispers, because they really can’t, can they? “Or can we?” She adds. Doesn’t really know why she adds it, but oh god, it feels good and fuck, she’d be lying if she wouldn’t want it.

Dean grins, it’s all cocky, “I want you to,” 

“But—” 

He kisses her harder, deeper, making her moan into his mouth and he sucks in her tongue, making her forget where she is. Her hands work on his belt buckle and Dean pauses the kiss, their noses touch.

“That’s my girl,” He coos, and that’s not fair. He has no idea what the praise does to her. 

Her hands work swiftly on his belt, and Dean’s hands are cupping her cheek as he kisses her over and over. He groans into her mouth when she grabs his hard cock in her hands. Her thumbs trails around his tip, smearing the drops of precum around his slit and over the velvety head. 

“Fuck,” Dean groans, presses his lips on her as he stands up from his chair, with her still around his middle, “I gotta—”

He doesn’t even care about the contract on his desk because she lays her on top of it, only swiping at the plastic cup of coffee, sending it to the floor. She can smell the spilled liquid. 

Dean lowers her onto his desk, kisses down her jaw, sucks in the sensitive patch at her throat, “I know I said I would take my time, but, fuck—” He kisses her again, “I need—” 

“It’s okay,” She grins, her hand finds his hair, fingers threading through the fluff on top of his head. 

His hands are restless, kneading and stroking along her legs and thighs, and he moans when his fingers find her panties and notices how wet they already are. One of his long fingers hooks around the crotch of her panties and she gasps when he threads two of his thick fingers through her bare and slick pussy lips. 

Dean leaves her neck to stand up straight, his hands grab her by her knee, folds them up. Her glistening wet cunt is now bare to him. 

“Jesus, look at you,” He mumbles, his eyes are dark, his lids heavy.

“Have you ever fucked someone in here?” She asks, but she doesn’t really know why she did, kind of regretting it immediately as soon as the words left her lips because she actually doesn’t want to know. 

He chuckles lightly, bends down to kiss her cunt, tongue parting her folds and lips sealing around her clit. He lets go with a loud obscene smacking sound before he comes up again and licks at his lips before he speaks, “Couldn’t help myself,” His breathing is ragged, “I just fucking love how you taste,” 

Dean lines himself up with her pussy and she bites on her lips when he pushes in. There’s the familiar stretch and she’s slowly getting used to it. Slowly getting fucking addicted to it.

“Oh god, fuck—” She closes her eyes and Dean leans down as he pushes himself deeper. His face is next to hers, his breathing hot against her ear.

“No,” He whispers, and at first she didn’t know what he was talking about until she realizes that it’s the answer to her question, “No, I haven’t.” He picks up a steady pace, fucks into her deep and slow, “But I always fantasized about bending you over and fucking you on this very desk.” 

He fantasized about doing this? About doing it with her? Doing it to her?

“Dean—” She starts to say but Dean claims her mouth, his tongue goes in as deep as his cock does, throwing her thoughts all over the place. He fucks her harder, sending the desk skidding along the floor. And she’s so close, so fucking close. 

“Christ, you feel so fucking good, I can never get enough of it,” He sucks at her throat before his tongue trails a hot and wet path to her mouth to kiss the corner of her lips, “Can you come for me, baby? Be a good girl and come on my cock, huh?” One of his hands goes to her clit, fingers rubbing circles on her little hood.

Shit.

What is he doing to her?

“Ye-ah,” She manages to stammer.

“Yeah?” Dean nose touches hers and he chuckles, “Do it, baby, come for me,” 

That last baby she hears out of his mouth does the trick, she’s convulsing around him and Dean has to hold her thighs apart so as she wouldn’t crush him. Her eyes cross for a brief moment before she has to close them because of the pressure. 

Oh god, what does this man do to her?

Dean chuckles and leans down, sprays kisses on her face when she comes back down from her high, “Feels so fucking good when you come around my cock.” His voice is strained and she knows that he’s close, too.

But before Dean could come, they could hear screams outside in the hallway. 

Someone’s yelling. 

Sam. 

And then she hears Ruby who was exceptionally loud.

“Miss Shurley! You can’t go in there!” That’s definitely Ruby. She hears some footsteps, they are coming closer and closer. So many footsteps. Oh god. And she’s still here spread on his desk and Dean’s still buried deep inside of her.

She can hear Sam, “Amara! Stop!” 

CH12

[smallestchances]

Almost Royal (2)

Long overdue?? Absolutely. Please forgive me? <3 Hope this was worth it!

Summary: (Y/N) is struggling more than she’d like to admit, and with the eve of her daughter’s birthday looming, she decided to give her daughter an unusual gift.

Pairing: Royal!Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: Douchebag boss, small amount of angst, mention of death, etc.

Masterlist

Taglist: @that-one-gay-girl @fanfictionjunkie1112 @flamencodiva @hoboal87 @cutestdolans @anaissomnia @kbl1313 @fuzzycloudsz @hollymac79 @vicmc624 @roxytheimmortal @lunaticgurly @coffeebooksandfandom @A-dorky-book-keeper @nihilismworld​

“Order up for table sixteen!”

The constant murmur of the diner around you only gets louder, and you skirt around the tables and patrons as fast as you could. Sweat collects on your top lip and your brow, the too small uniform chafing in almost every crease.

“(Y/N)! I told you, order up for table sixteen!” Sal yells from the kitchen, his baritone voice causing you to grit your teeth. You drop off the most recent order you had in your hands, giving them a quick smile before rushing to pick up the food.

You try to avoid the greasy cook, but Sal gives you a cunning smile that only makes your skin crawl as you pick up the four plates, balancing them perfectly. As you reach for the last one, Sal pushes it too far off the counter with his spatula, and it falls helplessly to the floor with a crash. 

“What the fuck!” Is all that passes through your mouth, and before you know it the whole diner has gone silent. Your fellow coworkers only look on with sympathy in your eyes, and it doesn’t take long before the usual white noise falls back into place.

“That’s quite an unprofessional mouth you’ve got there,” Sal reprimands, and you have to clench your jaw to prevent yourself from spitting in his direction. “I think I’m going to need you to open up tomorrow in order to amend that.”

“Sal--” you choke out. “You, you can’t do that. I’ve requested tomorrow off for the past three years--I’m already closing, I can’t do an fourteen hour shift tomorrow--”

“Then I can just take it out of your next paycheck,” he shrugs, starting to redo the food he destroyed.

All you can do is swallow. “No, I...I’ll come in at 6.”

“And?”

“And I’ll close at 8,” you mumble. 

“Good girl.”

It takes everything in you to go to table sixteen with the food in your hand, apologizing furiously on the delay for the last patron’s food. They seem understanding enough, and it almost makes the tears you were holding back fall from your eyes.

You thank God that you get to leave after the lunch rush, and you try to avoid as many people as you could. Driving quickly to the store and then home, you allow yourself to let out all frustrations as you blast your music.

When you finally get home, you’re about ready to collapse onto your couch and sleep when a piece of paper taped onto the grate in front of your door stops you. All you have to read is the big bold words Eviction Notice before you rip it off and storm into your apartment.

As you descend into your basement apartment, it’s just as cold and dark as you remember. A candle flickers on the center table in your makeshift living room, slightly illuminating the backpack and shoes that were thrown haphazardly. It’s the sight of these that make you smile, and as you put down the bags, you sprint into an adjoining room.

“Happy birthday eve!!” You scream at the top of your lungs, jumping excitedly onto the bed covered in purple comforters, avoiding the body of your daughter as you smile brightly. She only groans, beneath you, shaking herself awake from her after school nap. You strategically flop onto her, still in your Sal’s uniform.

You lock eyes with a shade of green you know too well, and you snuggle into her. “How does it feel Opal? Have you grown three inches? Have you grown a shoe size?” You gasp. “A BOOB size??”

“Mom!” She laughs, pulling away from you to bring a pillow over her head. “I’m not even sixteen yet. I feel the exact same way I did yesterday.”

“You’re going to be sixteen,” you mumble to yourself, staring up at your ceiling. Opal uncovers her head to plop it onto your shoulder. “My baby is going to be sixteen! It feels like just yesterday I was making you mac & cheese while we watched cartoons on the sofa.”

“That was yesterday Mom.”

“Oh how the time flies!”

You both laugh together, and silence falls over you briefly. You watch the sun go down from the limited rays of light from the “windows”. Your heart tightens. “I’m sorry baby bear,” you mumble rushing on before she could interrupt. “You deserve more than this, more than I’ve given you--”

“This is more than enough Mama--”

“No, it’s not. And I know that.” You sigh. “The moment you were born, I promised to always provide you things to the best of my ability. I promised to  protect you--and through it’s come in the form of a wild basement with 90% thrifted clothes--”

“I love my wild basement and thrifted clothes--”

“My point is,” you pause. “I am going to try so much more. Harder than I ever thought was possible, starting today.” You reach into your pocket book on the floor for a bulky parchment held together by brown paper and twine. 

“How much money did you fit into there?”

You roll your eyes, nudging her softly. “Don’t be a little shithead”--she smiles brightly--”I can’t celebrate your actual birthday with you tomorrow.  I have the opening shift at Sal’s before going over to Rick’s to clean up. So, I have three presents for you.”

You and Opal shift into a sitting position. “Present number one: I have ice cream cake waiting for you in the freezer.”

“Friendlys?!”

“You know it. Present number two: I got Rick to let us use his place to bake some apple pies. We’d have to make him some, but as soon as you feel ready--”

“Let’s go now.”

“Geez Opal,” you giggle. “As soon as you’re ready, not tonight, we can go. Present number three,” you breathe in deeply. “You know your father is a sore subject for me.”

Opal immediately sits up more, her eyes searching yours. “Mom?”

You nod in confirmation, tracing your fingers lightly over the parchment. “In here...are memories of what we had.” You swallow hard. “Now, I’ll give this to you, and you will have fourteen questions you can ask me with full disclosure.”

“Full honesty?”

“Full honesty. After that, I will fulfill two requests of yours that are in my jurisdiction. All to get you to your sweet sixteen.”

Opal doesn’t say anything for a few moments. Then, she surges forward to embrace you tightly. “Mama,” she says through tears.

“Baby bear,” you respond, your voice thick as well When you pull back, you wipe away her fallen tears while you both smile. You place the package in her lap and she excitedly tears through it.

What she finds is photos. Piles of photos and letters and more letters and photos that illustrate the three years you had with the love of your life. There’s even hints of Sam in there, and you  watch carefully as she picks up a photo of Dean where he’s smiling brightly at the camera while on a boat--a smile that mirrors the one your daughter frequently wears.

“Mama,” she breathes. “This...this is a photo of King Dean. Why do you have a photo of King Dean?”

“Is that one of your questions?”

“No!” She amends, rewinding. “My father...is King Dean.”

“That’s wild.”

She flicks your arm. “Mom! I mean this is--I’m a--how?!”

“Excuse me,” you scoff. “Your mother’s a catch. And for that, you have 13 questions left.”

“Ah!” She exclaims, searching for words. “How did you two meet?”

“I worked all over the palace. I was a floater, I went where I was needed and coincidentally he was always there. He kept talking to me, we became friends, and eventually...one thing led to another.”

“Did you love each other?”

You swallow thickly. “With everything in us. Or at least for me. I’d always look for ways to see him, and he’s forgo royal duties just for me. We even got married, but I think it’s some sort of treason so I don’t bring it up.”

Opal’s jaw drops briefly. “What was he like?”

“Your father…” You pause. “Your father was one of the most selfless, bravest, stubbornest assholes I’d ever met. He was fiercely protective of his family, and he would sell his whole being if it meant the people he cared about were safe.”

“So when you say all men…”

“I only partially include Dean. 10 questions.”

“Who’s this?” She points to a group photo of you, Dean, Sam & Jess.

“That is your Uncle Sam.” You shift slightly. “He was my best friend. We were as thick as thieves within the palace, always getting into trouble. You wouldn’t believe the situations we got into.”

“And her?” She points to Jess.

“That’s Jess. His ex-fiancee.” Your heart lurches into your throat. “She was also my best friend, but things...Things went wrong when she went on a charity visit to a Rehabilitation Center. A patient got ahold of a gun, and she was shot.” A tear escapes your eye. “By the time anyone got to her, it was too late. She died instantly.”

Opal reaches for your hand, intertwining your fingers before squeezing tightly. You give her a close lipped smile. “Did Sam or Jess know about me?”

“Sam yes--we found out together actually. Jess passed away a year before it all happened.”

“Does my father know?”

Your heart beats incessantly against your ribcage, drowning in your ears. You’d prepared for this question, you could answer it. But even as you did, each word felt like liquid tar in your mouth. “The day I left, no.  I was too hurt to even seek him out…But when I had you, I thought he had a right to know just how much of a true gem had stemmed from our love. Every year, a week after your birthday, I sent him memories of us from the past year. Photos of you mostly. I never got a reply.”

Opal deflates, and your chest clenches. “Do you...do you see any of him in me?”

A smile flits to your mouth, “So much it hurts,” you let out a chuckle. “From your smile to your eyes to your goddamn apple pie, there’s no way I could forget him when he lives so much in you.”

“So why’d you leave?”

You can only stare at her, mouth paused in shock. You debate whether you should tell her the truth. 

“You said full honesty Mama.”

You close your eyes tightly, trying to catch even your faintest breath. “He um,” you clear your throat to dislodge the block forming. “He was too invested in running the country, and getting married to someone who wasn’t me--”

Opal leans into you, trying to offer some comfort. “Aww, Mama.

“The worst part is...is he didn’t tell me. I’d heard it from his m--from someone who was more than pleased to see us separated. I hadn’t heard from him for days, I’d just found out about you, and now here they were, threatening our lives if we didn’t get on our first plane out of there.”

“So you left without another word.”

You don’t answer.

“But--but maybe if you’d stayed, if he’d known about me we’d be together right now! You should’ve fought for him--”

“Fought for him?” You interrupted. “Opal, I had done nothing but fight for him. I would never leave his side and then--then he wasn’t the only person I had to fight for.”

“So who was it?”

“What?”

“Who made you leave? Who threatened us?”

“Opal--”

“Mom--”

“Don’t make me answer this.”

“You said full. Honesty.”

It takes everything in you to answer. “Your Grandmother.”

Opal lets out a breath and sits back heavily. “Well fuck.”

“I know,” you chuckle. 

You both don’t speak for a while. 

“Do you miss him?” She asks. 

“Everyday. Every time I think I’m over it, it comes back tenfold.”

“Does that mean you’d go back if you could?”

You but your lip. “I...I don’t know. That’s something I’d have to reevaluate if it ever came down to it.”

She nods thoughtfully.

“One more question baby bear.”

“...Which palace do they spend their most time in?”

You tilt your head, surprised at her last question. “That’s what you’re going to ask.”

“What can I say? I’m curious and a little bit of a daydreamer.”

Her last words break you a little more, so you tell her. She nods gratefully, and you lean forward to give her forehead a kiss. “Alright, do you want a slice of cake before we clonk out?”

Once again, to your surprise she shakes her head. “I’ll have some with you tomorrow, I think I might hit the bed now.”

“Okay.” You surrender, lifting yourself from the bed. “Good choice. Goodnight baby bear.”

“Goodnight Mama.”

You walk out of the room, and immediately Opal pulls out her phone to look up the palace. After some extensive digging and some slight dead ends, she finds a Redditt thread that swears by a palace address that’ll get her immediately to the inner circle. She quickly writes it down, and she finds a piece of paper and a few pencils.

With a deep breath, she starts to write.

It’s been about a week since your conversation with Opal, and work has been shitty. Nothing new, really, is all you can think as you wait patiently for Opal to meet you outside her school in your beat up car. Your vows to make things better seem to have fallen flat. Bills have started to drown you more than before, and you’ve recently been fired from Sal’s--you honestly don’t know how much longer you can keep your head above water.

Opal bounds to the car, humming and you give her an incredulous look. “Someone’s awfully chipper.”

“Well someone’s awfully a grouch,” she retorts.

“Well, we do live in a trash can,” you mumble, pulling away from the curb. “Baby bear, I gotta tell you something--”

“You got laid off.”

“I got--wait, how’d you know?”

“I heard you grumbling Wednesday night about Sal being a sleazeball who couldn’t keep his hands to himself.”

“Well--”

“And I found our eviction notice Mom.”

Blood rushes to your ears and you groan. “Look, I know this sounds bad, but we’ll be back on our feet before we know it, and this’ll all be behind us.”

“I know.”

You smile. “Thank you for your optimism baby bear.”

“Next time, I’ll charge you $25 for each optimistic phrase.”

You laugh heartily. “I’ll let you know when I can afford that.”

Pulling onto the side of your street, things are awfully quiet, though neither you nor Opal notice. Unlocking your apartment, you go down the steps only to freeze at the sight of apple green eyes you never thought you’d see again. 

“Dean?”

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

Look out for Part Three coming soon!

[artificialqueens]

Tree House Kisses, Chapter 43 (Adorney) - Scorpio and Veronica

A/N: Click here for previous chapters here on AQ or here if you’d rather read on AO3. xoxo!

And thank you again to our wonderful betas: @saiphl, @sillylittlecandycane

Chapter Summary: It’s finally the night of senior prom!! It starts out great...but will it end in disaster? (Spoiler alert: yes)

Chapter 43: I Just Wanna Dance

There were a million things Courtney loved about being in the The Scarlet Pimpernel--finally getting a chance to play a lead role in a musical, the songs themselves, the beautiful costumes they’d borrowed from a nearby university’s theatre company, the warm encouragement from Mrs. Maguire, watching her friends and castmates shine, when her dad surprised her by showing up for one of the weekend shows with a bouquet of pink roses…

But her favorite thing of all was being onstage with Adore. It was the first time they’d had multiple scenes together since playing Annie and Miss Hannigan in 5th grade, and for Courtney, it made the experience a million times better.

Closing night was bittersweet. In some ways, Courtney wished that it would never end. But she was excited for prom and graduation, their Mexico road trip and their first apartment. So even though it was a little bit sad, she didn’t cling to it. Instead, she focused on the excitement she felt about everything to come, and really tried to live in the moment, committing every single second to memory.

In the garden scene with Adore, she noticed the little wisps of hair around her face that were lit up by the bright stage lights, the way her hazel eyes gleamed, and when she leaned toward her, it was the closest they’d ever come to actually kissing in this scene. All Courtney wanted was to surrender, to just close her eyes, let their lips touch, but she fought it, finally pushing Adore away like she was supposed to at the last possible second, heart pounding, feeling a bit light-headed while she watched her sing. Really listening to the lyrics for what felt like the first time.

“Marguerite, don't forget I know who you are. We were cut from the same surly star, like two jewels in the sky, sharing fire. Where's the girl, so alive and still aching for more? We had dreams that were worth dying for. We were caught in the eye of a storm! Come again!”

Adore grabbed her hands, spinning her in a circle, and a lump formed in Courtney’s throat.

“Let the girl in your heart tumble free. Bring your renegade heart home to me. In the dark of the morning, I'll warm you, I'll rouse you . . .”

As they slowly stopped turning in a circle, Courtney swallowed hard, the dizziness getting to her, stomach in knots, and it was if Adore could sense it. She pulled her in by the waist, singing the last verse softly, directly to her. And something happened for the first time that Courtney couldn’t explain--a single tear began to slip down her cheek.

“Where's the girl? Is she gazing at me with surprise? Do I still see that blaze in her eyes? Am I dreaming or is she beside me . . . now . . .?”

The music slowly faded out, and Courtney knew that Adore was waiting for her next line, her eyes soft and expectant. She knew that she had to get it out; this was the script, and she couldn’t change it no matter how much she wanted to. So she mustered up all of her strength, squaring her shoulders and speaking, firmly and hoarsely.

“No. Get out.”

Adore’s eyes went cold as she turned and left the stage, and for a second Courtney really did think that she was going to fall, to faint or throw up or something else entirely unexpected. She knew she only had about three seconds before Willam and Gia entered, so she quickly swiped the tear from her cheek and took a deep breath, pushing down the terrible feeling that something had broken inside of her, something she wouldn’t ever be able to fix.

-

“Hey…”

Courtney whirled around as Adore touched her shoulder, a startled look on her face that softened when she saw Adore.

“Oh, hi.”

“Are you alright?” Adore asked. She’d noticed the tears while they were onstage, and had a feeling that it was more than just acting.

“Yeah, sorry, it’s...I guess just that this is the last time we’re gonna be doing the show. Kinda silly.” She wiped her eyes, looking a bit embarrassed.

Adore smiled softly, pulling her in for a hug. “Nah, I know how you feel.”

Courtney squeezed her back tightly. “Thanks, Dory. I love you.”

“Me too, babe.”

-

“You girls are just so gorgeous and grown-up,” Bonnie said, sniffling a little as she snapped photo after photo.

It was finally the night of their senior prom, and as a treat, Bonnie and Karen had gotten together and treated the girls to a little spa day: mani pedis - the fancy kind with paraffin wax and massages and rhinestone embellishments, lunch at their favorite café, and professional hair styling. Courtney had gone for a glamorous updo studded with tiny red roses, Adore for a half-up style with criss-crossing fishtail braids, and Tati for smooth finger-waves that made her look like an old-time movie star. Afterwards, they’d all headed back to Adore’s house to do their makeup and get dressed.

To Adore’s relief, Courtney hadn’t brought up her weird objections to Tati being her date, and she was friendly as can be to Tati just like usual, gossiping about their classmates, giggling, having a grand old time.

Adore was very pleased with the outfit she’d ended up with: an amazing thrift store find, a short, square-necked black lace dress, very bruja, and she’d paired it with studded black boots, fishnets, and the leather choker that Courtney’d gotten her for her birthday last year. Tati looked amazing as always, her skin-tight hot pink minidress really pushing the dress code limits, but the color so fun that she’d probably be fine.

And then there was Courtney. Adore was surprised when she’d chosen it, the sleek white two-piece so unlike her: no sparkly embellishments or flouncy girliness--just a simple, spaghetti-strapped, open-backed top and long slitted skirt that made her early summer tan glow. When she first put it on, Adore had to look away for a moment, so as not to get choked up about how beautiful she was. Then of course, she completed the look with sparkly silver star accessories, red stones in her necklace matching the roses in her hair. Before they’d headed downstairs for photos, Adore gestured to her charm bracelet, the rose-gold obviously not fitting the color theme of her ensemble.

“That doesn’t really match,” she noted, and Courtney bit her lip, meeting Adore’s eyes with a look that made her insides twist.

“I don’t care.”

Now, in Courtney’s backyard, they posed for the dozens of pictures that Karen and Bonnie insisted on. First all the girls separately, then together, then Adore and Tati, who were still posing when Roy finally rounded the corner in his white tux. The second Adore caught sight of his red pocket square she burst out laughing, unable to help herself.

“Thanks, Delano, exactly the reaction I was hoping for,” he said.

“No, it’s cause your pocket square is...Courtney, I fucking knew that you’d do that shit again!” Adore laughed, and Courtney just shrugged, accepting first a kiss on the cheek and then the wrist corsage with the requested red roses.

“I never denied it!” Courtney said. She reached out and adjusted Roy’s lapels, grinning. “I think he looks perfect.”

“Thank you, babe, and you’re beautiful,” Roy said, before ruining the moment by turning and blowing a raspberry in Adore’s direction.

“That’s mature.”

“Adore, please pull it together for two more shots!” Bonnie interrupted, and Adore put her arm back around Tati’s waist.

Courtney and Roy were next, followed by group shots, and then Karen insisted on a couple with Courtney and Adore.

Adore swallowed, letting Courtney take her hand and lean a head on her shoulder, feeling slightly awkward.

“It’s kind of funny, don’t you think?” Courtney asked, between shots.

“What?”

Courtney gestured to their outfits. “Black and white.”

“Oh yeah. Very fitting, huh?” Adore said.

Courtney gazed up at her, a starry-eyed smile on her face, and Adore could feel herself melting right back to the place she’d insisted she’d never go again as the camera flashed.

“Mom! I wasn’t ready!”

“It was cute!” Karen defended herself.

“Do you think we should call Pearl and ask when-”

“Limo has arrived, bitcheeeeeees!” screeched a voice, and everyone turned to see Willam at the gate, along with Trinity, Pearl, Fame and Violet, who all came bounding in, dressed to the nines.

Courtney squealed happily, clapping her hands. After about ten or twenty more pictures of the whole group, Bonnie and Karen finally dismissed them, letting them pile into the limo, laughing and screaming happily, music blasting.

Adore was the last one to go, turning to give her mother one last little wave, pretending not to notice the tears shining in her eyes as she called, “Bye Ma! Don’t wait up!”

-

The hotel ballroom where their prom was held was the fanciest place Adore had ever been. After looking up at the huge crystal chandelier over the dance floor, Adore turned to Tati with a look of confusion and asked, “Oh my god...is our school bougie?”

Tati laughed, pulling her onto the dance floor with the rest of their group. The DJ was surprisingly good, and they twirled and laughed, dancing for hours before Tati finally admitted that her feet were killing her and she needed a break.

“Ugh, same,” said Pearl.

“This is why you wusses should have worn more comfortable shoes,” Adore proclaimed, modeling her combat boots as they trooped over to grab some punch and sit down.

“Not everyone can pull that off, dear,” Tati told her.

“Or you can just do what Trinity did,” Pearl said, gesturing to her prom date, platform sandals kicked off to the side of the dance floor, her bright yellow dress hiked up with her hands as she, Courtney and Willam shook it to Shakira’s ‘Hips Don’t Lie,’ Roy awkwardly joining in with decidedly less enthusiasm than the others.

“Still think my solution’s better,” said Adore, settling down at the table with a glass of sugary punch.

They relaxed for a few minutes, chatting and giggling, before they were joined by first Violet, then Fame, then Bob, who came bounding over with April to hype up the afterparty.

“You guys are going, right? It’s gonna be amazing!” he exclaimed, and Violet shook her head in disbelief.

“You really think a school-sanctioned afterparty will be that much fun?” she asked.

“I’m telling you! Everyone says it’s the best part of the night.”

“Really? I would think the best part of the night is how sexy your girlfriend looks,” said Pearl, sending a wink in April’s direction, making her giggle and preen.

“Okay, yes, she does, but also...after the afterparty, there’s a pancake breakfast. So, come on...”

“Robert! Hello young man! Lookin’ slick!” Roy called, walking over to give Bob a hug and slap on the back. He looked a bit sweaty and disheveled, and it made Adore chuckle.

“Courtney’s giving you a real workout, huh?” she teased.

“That girl wouldn’t leave a dance floor if you paid her,” Roy answered with a sigh, dragging a chair over from a nearby table to sit heavily. “Luckily, Willam and Trinity have much higher endurance than me, so-”

“Guess again!” Trinity exclaimed, as she flopped into Pearl’s lap. “I’m fucking exhausted.”

“Aww, you guys all abandoned the blue-eyed devils,” Bob said, gesturing to Courtney and Willam on the dance floor, making April crack up.

“They’re fine,” Roy said, leaning back in the chair, eyes closing.

Adore looked over at the dance floor, watching them while everyone chatted. When the song ended, to her surprise, Courtney made her way over to the group too.

“Whoa, maybe she’s actually tired! Did someone slip you some Benadryl, Court?”

Turned out, she was only there to ask Adore to come back onto the dance floor.

“Will you come dance with me?” she cajoled, reaching out her hand, a soft and hopeful look in her eyes.

“Uh…” Adore knew this was a bad idea. As much as she tried not to, told herself not to, she’d already spent too much of the evening with one eye on Courtney with Roy, fixated on the way they laughed and flirted and touched each other--it was like regressing two years, and she just wasn’t in the right headspace to confront her feelings.

“Please?” Courtney touched Adore’s lace-covered wrist, adding with a twinkle, “I’ll be your best friend...”

Adore had to chuckle at that, standing up with a resigned sigh. “Good one, bitch.”

Courtney beamed at her, leading her to the dance floor. Of course, it was some slow, schmaltzy pop ballad. And of course, Courtney’s arms immediately went around her neck, pulling her close. Head resting on her shoulder.

Adore didn’t know where to put her hands. Courtney’s skimpy top left so much of her back exposed, she could feel herself panicking before finally letting them settle on her hips. Even then, it was impossible to avoid her waist, her thumbs grazing the soft bare skin a few times before she tried tucking them into her palms.

“I love you, Dory,” Courtney murmured, and Adore gulped.

“Love you too.”

Adore tried to get her heart to settle, tried to stop the churning in her stomach, the song dragging on for what felt like an eternity while she sweated and held back her tears. When it finally ended, she broke away immediately, mumbling about how she needed a cigarette, and bolted from the dance floor.

-

Courtney watched Adore go, misty-eyed, wondering why she always ran away just when it felt like they were getting closer, and couldn’t help the dejected feeling inside, stomach twisting with regret.

“Punch?”

Courtney turned around to see Roy, holding out a cup of red punch for her. Of course he was. He was always there: dependent, steadfast, the one person in her life that she could always count on. The guilt Courtney felt would be crushing if she didn’t love him so much.

She slid her arms around his waist, pulling him close, asking, “How did I end up with the best boyfriend in the world?”

Roy sighed, setting the cup on a nearby table and wrapping her into a hug, resting his chin on top of her head.

“Just lucky, I guess.” After a few moments, he ventured softly, “Do you wanna dance some more?”

“Yes,” Courtney said, arms tightening around him even more. “Yes, I really fucking do.”

-

“There you are…” Tati said, when she finally found Adore in the hotel courtyard, sitting against a stucco wall, smoking a cigarette. “You alright?”

She settled in beside her, maneuvering the best she could so as not to let her dress ride up around her hips. This didn’t feel like a conversation where it would be productive to have her underwear showing.

“Just fucking peachy.” Adore took a long drag.

“Yeah. Listen, I-”

“I really don’t want any advice right now,” Adore said, and Tati immediately closed her mouth.

“Ooookay,” she breathed, realizing that now wasn’t the right time to say what she had to say.

“Sorry. It’s just, my head is all-”

“Nah, I get it.” Tati patted her fishnet-covered thigh.

“Thanks.”

They sat in silence for a few moments, Adore’s head leaning back on the wall, Tati watching the smoke curling up into the midnight sky.

“Can I ask you a question, though?”

“I guess.” Adore’s voice was tired and hoarse, so Tati tried to phrase it as gently and tactfully as possible.

“What’s the worst thing that could happen? If you, like, told her?”

Adore took a long drag of her cigarette, pondering the answer before saying, “I could die. I could literally die.”

“Alright.” Tati said, stretching her legs out in front of her. She wasn’t inclined to push it, adding a simple, “Just seems like something to think about.”

After a few more moments of tense silence, Adore sniffled, and Tati realized that she was crying.

“I should get out of here,” she said, stabbing the cigarette out on the pavement, using her lacy sleeve to wipe her eyes.

“Do you want me to go with you?”

“No. It’s prom. Stay and have fun,” Adore said, and Tati was overcome with sympathy, wished there was something she could do to make her feel better--or at least, enough better to have a carefree and fun night like they all deserved. It had started out so well, and Tati still wasn’t sure where it’d gone wrong.

“Adore, come on, you can-”

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Okay,” Tati said, staying on the ground while Adore got up, resigned to just let her have her feelings, realizing that there really was nothing she could do in that moment.

-

“Yeah, I know! There’s just something off about his face!” Violet laughed, following Trinity out of the bathroom, still talking about an idiot jock who’d tried to feel her up on the dance floor.

“I think it would be an okay face if he wasn't such a jerk,” Trinity said.

“Okay face is probably the best he can hope for,” Violet agreed. “But don’t you think he-”

Violet stopped short, abdomen twisting when she spotted Fame, in the same location they’d left her outside the restrooms, looking beautiful as ever in her full, floor-length gown covered in a large-scale blue flower print. Only she wasn’t alone. There was a blonde girl chatting with her...a blonde girl in a short, sparkly pink dress who was acting awfully familiar, a hand on Fame’s bare upper arm, flashing a bright white smile.

“Who the hell are you?” Violet asked, and the girl turned to her, blinking her brown eyes slowly.

“Excuse me?”

“I said-” Violet began, but Fame jumped in.

“You know what? We should talk later,” she told the girl, mouthing ‘sorry’ in an annoyingly obvious way, clearly not caring that Violet could see her. Or maybe doing it specifically for Violet’s benefit. Violet’s nails dug into her palms at the thought.

“Alright. Later then. Can’t wait to hang out again,” the girl said, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to Fame’s cheek before sauntering away with a victorious smirk.

“Who the fuck was that?” Violet asked, and Fame turned to her with crossed arms and a crosser expression.

“Hey, I think I hear...something...uh…” Trinity stammered out, backing away so as not to get caught up in the drama, calling out to an imaginary person, “What? Oh, you need-okay, coming!”

She turned and ran back towards the ballroom, leaving Fame and Violet alone.

“Well?” Violet asked, her tone still hostile, but how else was she supposed to be right now?

Fame let out a long sigh, asking, “Why are you so difficult?” She began to walk away, but Violet reached for her, fingers closing around her wrist and tugging her back.

“Fame. Who was that?”

“She’s just a girl I know from working at the bakery,” Fame said, eyes closing as if the conversation was too exhausting for words. “She graduated last year, but I guess she’s here with a friend, so-”

“No. I mean, why were you flirting with her? I thought tonight was about us.”

“Vi…” Fame finally looked into her eyes, blue eyes a bit sad, shaking her head. “Why do you always have to do this?”

“Do what?” Violet could feel herself growing more and more agitated, more and more uneasy, the ground shifting beneath her.

“Talk about us, like that. You’re my best friend. You know how much I love you. But not...not like that.”

Violet didn’t like where this conversation was going, not one bit. She bit back her anger, her impatience, her jealousy, and made her voice as soft and calm as possible.

“But you agreed to be my date. You came here with me-”

“As friends.”

“I don’t get it!” Violet exploded. “You finally broke up with Patrick, officially, and-”

“This is not about Patrick!” Fame exclaimed, exasperation all over her face. “It never was. I guess it was easy to use him as an excuse, but...I just don’t think of you that way.”

Bitterness swirled in Violet’s chest, and before she could stop herself, she spit out, “But you think of that random slut that way?” She gestured angrly in the direction of the blonde, the girl who it seemed had single-handedly managed to ruin her night. “And what did she mean by ‘again’?”

“I...we kind of...hooked up last year,” Fame admitted. “When Patrick and I were on a break, after-”

“You hooked up with a girl and you didn’t tell me? What the fuck?” Violet said, anger and confusion combining, the whole thing like hands wrapped around her throat, making her eyes water and her chest constrict.

“Well, I wasn’t sure how you’d react. I guess I was wrong, since you’re being so understanding.”

“Fuck you,” Violet spat out, turning and walking away.

“Violet, wait!”

Violet stopped walking, but she didn’t turn. She couldn’t bear to look at Fame’s face right now, not when tears were burning in her eyes, threatening to spill over any second.

“Look, I’m sorry! Okay? I guess I just...I didn’t want to say anything that would risk hurting you. Because I don’t want to lose you as a friend. I do love you-”

At that, Violet whirled back around, those angry tears streaking hotly down her cheeks.

“No you don’t,” she said. “You never have. God, I’m so stupid.”

“Vi-”

“Enjoy your prom,” she choked out, before breaking away and rushing towards the lobby. She had no idea where she was going, but she knew that she couldn’t go back into that ballroom, with those people. Not like this.

-

Adore trudged slowly through the parking lot, wondering where she should even go. This part of town was mostly new--lots of pointless high-end stores, yuppie restaurants, hipster bars.

“Hey! Where the fuck are you going?” demanded a voice, and Adore smiled to herself, turning around to find Violet, face streaked in tears, stomping from the hotel angrily.

Adore chuckled sadly. “You look like I feel.”

“Well you look like shit,” Violet countered.

“Okay, so I guess I look like I feel too.”

“God fucking damn it, why can’t we just have one night where we’re like, normal teenagers?” Violet exclaimed, face turned upwards, and Adore shook her head.

“I dunno.”

“Where were you going, anyway?”

“I honestly don’t know. Just...anywhere but here.”

“Same.” Violet took her hand. “I think there’s a diner a few blocks away that’ll be open. Come on.”

[spencers-dria]

Slaying Dragons

Someone To Stay Ch. 18

Spencer x fem reader

I start to gather my things as I finish up the last bit of paperwork piled on the corner of my desk. With a wave and a quick round of goodbyes, I make my way to the elevator.

Thirty minutes later I am standing outside of Y/N's door. I know we are dating now, but she still makes me nervous. I figured I would surprise her by stopping by after work.

After three swift knocks I hear a muffled reply. "It's open."

I step in to see Y/N curled up on the couch in a blanket, her eyes are bloodshot and her face is red and tear-stained. I quickly drop my bag and rush to kneel in front of her.

I reach up to move her hair out of her face as she looks up, her eyes finally meeting mine. "What's wrong?  What happened? Are you okay?"

I feel a slight panic as my mind runs through every possible scenario. She just manages to motion towards the television screen in front of her. I turn glance over my shoulder to see one of her favorite medical dramas is playing.

"Y/N, it's okay. It's just a show remember? It will be alright."

I rub my hand across her knee in an attempt to sooth her. I am settled by the fact that nothing is seriously wrong, but I know she still needs comfort.

She shakes her head and looks at me again. I have seen her cry during some of our movie nights. This is different. I can see it in her eyes. She's truly hurting. I move up onto the couch, sitting next to her and completely enveloping her in my embrace, leaving a kiss on top of her head.

I whisper softly "What's wrong sweet girl?"

"It's not just a show. Their patient who was dying, they couldn't do anything to stop it. Sometimes neither can we...Sometimes I feel so helpless. I watch family members breakdown. I see patients who don't even understand what's happening to them. There is so much hurt and pain and death."

I feel my heart sink in my chest. I am all too familiar with the feeling. She knows all too well the feeling of what I go through at work. I'm not sure if I ever stopped to consider that before. We both see death and loss. Neither of us have complete control, both of us do out best to save lives, to make a difference. Sometimes there's nothing we can do. Knowing all this to be true, I know there is nothing I can say to convince her she is wrong, because she isn't. So instead I continue to comfort her the best I can.

I rub her back as I rock her back and forth, in attempt to slow her breathing and calm her down. After awhile of being held, she takes a deep breath before leaning back to wipe her eyes.

"Thank you, so much Spencer. I don't deserve you. I'm sorry you had to see me like this. It's just been a rough week at work."

I reach out to hold her face, bringing her gaze back to me.

"Don't ever apologize for your feelings. You've already helped me through several breakdowns. And with my job I can guarantee there will plenty more. We may never be able to completely take away the pain of others, but we have to appreciate the people that we can help and the things we can do to make a difference. I know how much you care about your patients. They are so lucky to have you caring for them."

As I try to comfort her with my words I wipe away the last few tears. I'm rewarded with her warm smile shining back at me.

"What do you say tonight we watch a movie, your choice, and then tomorrow we can go shop for those Halloween costumes you talked about?"

Her eyes lit up as she quickly nodded. We spend the rest of the evening cuddled up on the couch watching our way through several cheesy Halloween movies.

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

I return the next morning, sending a quick text to let her know I am on my way. Before I can get out of the car to head to her apartment, she's bolting down the stairs, ready to go. She plops down in the passenger seat, a huge grin spread across her face.

"Someone's excited for today?" I chuckle at her enthusiasm.

I look over to the passenger seat to see her in an oversized Halloween sweatshirt and denim shorts. She has mismatched socks on under her converse. One is purple with dogs in costumes, the other grey with black cats and pumpkins. Her hair is hung in loose messy waves, my favorite.

She leans over to kiss my cheek before answering. "Considering you and Halloween are my two favorite things, can you really be surprised?"

I feel my face warming at the compliment. I'm not used to such open comments about her affection towards me, and I don't think I will ever grow tired of it.

I reach her phone and plug it in as she gives me a questioning look. It only takes 2 second of the song before she recognizes it. She gives me shoulder a playful shove.

"You actually went and listened to them?"

"Yeah of course! I like learning more about what you like. This song was my favorite of their's, by the way."

She brings her hand over her heart and wipes away an imaginary tear with the other. "I'm so proud."

I shake my head letting out a small laugh before shifting the car into drive. For a few moments I almost forget how completely tone deaf I am, singing along with the lyrics.

When you were younnnggg

I quickly remember how awful I sound when I try to sing, glancing over to Y/N to see if she happened to hear me over the music. She's staring at me, but she's not laughing. She is looking at me as though I'm her favorite person in the entire world. Filled with a confidence I have rarely ever felt, I continue singing as she joins in and we belt it at the top of our lungs.

We pull up to the thrift store make our way to the formal section to look for what we need. During our movie selections we had finally settled on which of her ideas would be best. I finally found some pinstriped suit pants and a suit jacket a bit older fashioned than anything I already owned.

I glance up to see Y/N coming out of the dressing room in a beautiful wedding gown. From her waves falling onto her bare shoulders, to the way the corset top fit her, and the lace that trailed down the dress, she was beautiful. She does a quick twirl, allowing the skirt to flow around her like waves.

"You like it?"

All I can manage was a nervous nod. Can she see the effect it has on me? How nervous she makes me? I sure hope not.

"Look at us, wedding dress shopping and you haven't even gotten down on one knee." She jabs me in the side as she laughs.

Surprisingly this makes me relax a bit, although I'm not sure if it's the joke or the musical sound of her laughter.

After we stop at a couple more stores to pick up more items for our costumes along with makeup and temporary hair color, we make our way to her apartment. She was used to doing crafty things, so she has plenty of supplies ready to go. We took out the dress and I help her to effectively ruin it in just the way we needed. I have to admit, it was a bit fun to mess something up for once. Keeping things so put together all the time can be...exhausting.

The evening couldn't last long enough as eventually we say our goodbyes and I headed home. As I lie in bed and try to fall asleep, snap shots of the day play through my mind. Every day with her feels like a fairy tale romance. I usually fall asleep after hours of insomnia just from exhaustion alone, but tonight I drift off into a deep sleep, full of happy, warm feelings.

We had agreed to spend all of Halloween together. We planned to get ready at her apartment, which has the perfect spooky atmosphere. I love that she decorates so much. It makes me feel so at home in her apartment. After lunch, we start on our costumes, hers requiring several hours to come together. I wait, reading on her couch, until she's done with her shower. Eventually she comes out and asks for help. We cover as much of her face, neck, and arms as we can in a dusty blue color. She begins spraying blue throughout her hair, requiring my assistance in reaching some parts in the back. I try to tell her I don't know what I'm doing, but she insists it doesn't matter as long as it's all blue.

I decide to sit on the side of the tub and watch her finish her makeup. It's fascinating to me. I don't know how she transforms her face so easily. She helps me with mine as well as I sit on a stool in front of the mirror, adding some makeup to make my eyes look sunken and my cheekbones even more prominent. She finishes off with some gel in my hair, using a come to slick it back in the right directions.

"You know I used to gel my hair back for work?"

She looks up to make eye contact in the mirror, still fixing my hair. "Oh really? I always wonder what you used to look like. You don't have any photos with you in them, just your friends and family."

I clear my throat before answering. I'm not quite ready to speak on this topic.

"Yeah I don't...I mean I never really...you know people just always said I look..."

Before I can bring myself to finish, she walks around to face me, lifting my face to look at her.

"I wish you could see yourself the way I see you."

"You are..." she bends down, kissing my right cheek,

"the most handsome..." again on my left cheek,

"man I know" and finally on my lips. The last one lingering for a moment more before she pulls back. I can see in her eyes that she means every word. I don't doubt it for a moment.

"What did I ever do to deserve you?" I whisper, feeling as though all the air has left my lungs.

She returns to her spot behind me, wrapper her arms around me before placing one last kiss on my cheek. "I might ask you the same question." This time she leaves me blushing.

Once we have made our way into our costumes, we grab a skeleton costume Y/N found for her dog Juneau. It just so happens to work perfectly with out couple's costume. We make our way to her car and she drives us to JJ's house. We had made plan's to take Henry trick-or-treating so that Will and JJ could attend Will's work party.

After a few knocks, the door opens and JJ greets us in a costume I don't recognize.

"Victor and the Corpse Bride! I love it! You guys look amazing. You even have Scraps!" She leans down to pet Juneau.

Y/N does a quick twirl, showing off all of her costume. The lace has been ripped and distressed in all the right places. I have to hand it to her, it looks exactly like the one one in the movie.

"JJ, why are you holding a frying pan?" I ask.

Y/N and JJ share knowing looks before busting into a fit of giggles.

"I'm Rapunzel, and Will is going as Flynn."

"If you're referring to the fairy tale by the Grimm Brothers, I don't recall there being any mention of cookware. And who is Flynn?"

"From the Disney movie Mr. smarty pants." JJ quips.

We all take a moment to laugh before interrupted by Will chasing Henry, trying to get him in the rest of his costume. He eventually makes his way to the door with Henry donned in a orange and green dinosaur costume.

"Woooaahhh, what a scary dinosaur!"

He lets out a loud giggle, my favorite sound in the world.

"It's me Uncle Spence! It's Henry!"

"Oh my gosh! Henry, you look amazing!" I sweep him up off the ground to bring him in for a hug.

I don't keep his attention for long as he squeals "Puppy!" wriggling to get down and pet Juneau.

He pulls the two of us inside to show us each of his toys while his parents finish getting ready. After everything is set, the four of us set off to make our way around the neighborhood. After we finish, we fix his car seat in Y/N's vehicle before taking Henry to a surprise we had planned.

We pull up to Rossi's house, which he immediately recognizes. After quick greetings with Rossi, we start to make our way around the new neighborhood. Henry's eyes wide with amazement at the large candy bars given to him at every door.

It doesn't take long before Henry wears out, but he is insistent that we all continue.

"Come here little dinosaur" Y/N coos before sweeping him up in her arms. She talks to him about his school, his friends, and whatever else pops into his fast paced toddler mind.

I can't help but admire how great she is with him. I have heard her mention how much she wants to work with children before, but this was my first time witnessing it. It really does to come natural to her, and she seems so happy. She catches me staring a few times and shoots me a sweet smile before returning her attention to Henry, who has not stopped to take a breath for at least five minutes.

Once we get the message that Will and JJ have returned home, we bring Henry back and work to get him from the car seat to his parent's arms without waking him. He passed out about halfway home. We share quick hugs and goodbyes before driving back to Y/N's apartment. I walk back up with her, waiting for her to get Juneau settled.

"If it's not too late, I have a surprise planned."

She bounces on her feet, already eager with anticipation. "Oooo what is it? What is it?"

I pull out a couple tickets for a haunted house and she squeals before embracing me in a hug.

"Yes! Thank you! I love haunted houses! I can't wait!"

I can't help but smile and laugh a bit at her excitement. She has  a child-like wonder at times, in the best of ways.

She does some quick touch ups to her costume and we make our way downstairs, where I offer to drive us. We eventually find ourselves driving down a long dirt road, surrounded by woods and darkness. It certainly sets the tone.

Once we have parked and made our way through the line, I feel her wrap her arm around mine,  pulling me close.

"I thought you loved haunted houses?" I tease.

"I do! That doesn't make them any less scary!"

I chuckle before removing her arm from mine so that I can wrap my arm around her shoulders, pulling her as close to me as possible.

"Don't worry sweet girl, I'll protect you." I lean down to give her a reassuring squeeze and a kiss on top of her head.

This seems to calm her a bit as she smiles, snuggling in to my side as we creep down a long dark hallway.

With the things I have seen and done as an FBI agent and member of the BAU, I don't scare too easily. One thing that does scare me, however, is the dark. And right now we are completely enveloped by it, with no flashlights, no guns, and a certainty that things will be jumping out at us. I get by on reminding myself that nothing here will actually hurt us. Unlike so many of the cases I have been on, I know I will walk out of here in one piece.

I find myself less scared and more focused on making sure Y/N feels safe, rubbing her arm and talking to her after I feel her wince with each jump scare. After awhile, she surprises me by choosing to take the lead. She leaves me side but reaches back to hold my hand. Before I know it, she's making witty remarks back to the characters who try to scare her or follow us for awhile. She doesn't even jump when a girl springs out from the darkness, letting out a blood-curdling scream. Y/N decides to combat this by walking straight up to her and letting out a scream of equal proportions. She turns back to face me and we both end up in a fit of giggles at how ridiculous it was. She never ceases to amaze me.

We eventually make it out the end, and I can feel her heart racing. Now illuminated by the moonlight, I can see the huge grin on her face.

"So you're okay huh?"

Still grinning she answers, "That was perfect! I loved it! Thank you, Spencer. You're my real life knight in shining armor."

I feel silly blushing at such a cheesy comment, but I can't help myself. I know in that moment that I would slay dragons for her.

A/N: sorry this took so long to get out! I hope you still enjoyed it. Comments and questions welcome as always. Thanks for reading!

🖤💀🎃 FairyTales1896

[gongju-juice]

2. Once Upon a Southern Night

Adopted Cousins

Warnings: Some language mah bois. . .that goes for the rest of the series, minor assault incident because men are trash

The following week of school was quite exciting. People from all over the school were interested in your story. Amelia had gotten you acquainted with her friends—jocks, nonetheless—but they were fairly easy to get along with and you weren’t the type to stereotype.

History was even better. You could really flex your skills in your class, and not feel worried that you’d be rebuked. And Pre-Calculus and Chemistry wasn’t even as hard as you originally thought it would be. All in all, things were great. 

Since your first day, you hadn’t spoken to Jasper or any of the Cullens once. Sometimes you thought the tiny one, Alice, would smile at you behind your back as if she knew some big secret you didn’t. But she didn’t intimidate you, and neither did the others. Rosalie did seem a little off, but you figured that it had to do with the ridiculous number of boys confessing to her every week. And as for the others—Emmett and Edward—they seemed pretty normal. Though sometimes you wondered why Edward seemed to be so annoyed all the time, or why whenever you passed by him in the hallway, he inexplicably smirked from ear to ear.

One day, however, you had to sit at Amelia’s table without her. There was David, Mallory, Tyler, and Sarah. They were all the best athletes in the junior class, and you lowkey felt out of place being the only one at the table who didn’t play a sport.

“How was Psychology?” Mallory asked, digging into her leafy salad. She was a broad shoulder girl, whose athletic frame was large and unlike the “skinny-fit” girls you saw on tv. 

You nodded. “Pretty good. We learned a lot about the brain and its association with fear.”

You began stirring your gumbo. Since you were a kid, you never liked eating school lunches anyway. And in addition to that, you obligated your mom and yourself to prepare only southern style dishes to remind you of home.

“Hey, Y/N,” David called, nudging your shoulder. “Do you think you could help me with math? All of this theta, alpha—whatever this shit is—it’s giving me a headache. Could I maybe come by your place tonight and get some help?”

You smiled hesitantly. You didn’t mind helping him, but you weren’t exactly about to let some boy you hardly talked to come to your house without your mother’s foreknowledge. Besides, what was wrong with tutoring on campus?

“We can do it at the school library,” you suggested. “Make sure you bring your things though. You’ll need your calculator, a pencil, and some paper.”

He grumbled lowly to himself, but you thought it best not to inquire after him. Instead, you continued sipping at your food. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw movement at the Cullen table. 

At the end of the day, you walked to your locker and grabbed your things. The thing about Forks High School was that everybody seemed to automatically shift to their cars, in race to leave out onto the empty streets of the town. 

You made your way to the parking lot to drop some of the things off at your car—the brand new pale yellow Volkswagen Beetle your mom bought for your sixteenth birthday. It’d arrived in Washington State on campus just an hour before you had to leave your first day of school.

You turned around and began heading towards the school. . .but where to go? You forgot where the library even was. Was it nearest the front entrance or the side? You decided to go to the side, not knowing that the ramifications of your actions would forever change your life.

“Y/N!” a voice called, and you whirled around on your Oxford heels, thankful it was only David leaning on the brick wall behind you.

“Ah, David! I must’ve been going the wrong way, wasn’t I? I bet it’s better to go to the front entrance. Well, we’re here now. Might as well keep going,” you giggled anxiously.

You reached your hand for the door handle, only to have your hand forcefully snatched in the grasp of his.

“We don’t have to do it in the library,” he said quietly, a sinister grin on his face. “We could do it in your car, inside the bathroom, if you’d like.” He leaned in closer. “Or we could do it right here.”

You tried to politely pull your hand from his only to realize that he was not talking about tutoring. He grabbed your shoulder and pushed you against the cold door, the backs of your thighs touching the metal. You struggled to push him off, but he was much stronger. 

“I’m serious, David! This is not what you want! You’ll get in serious trouble, and I don’t give you consent or permission to touch me like this in any way!”

He smiled down at you. “Touch you. . .like this?” His fingers crawled down the sides of your skirt until they ripped down the material to the concrete.

You screamed, but suddenly he was gone. Jasper had him pinned up against the opposite wall, David’s feet dangling inches from the group. 

“I will fucking kill you,” he said angrily. “If you ever touch her again. If you even look at her, I will personally rip your throat from your insides and make you wish you were never born.”

David nodded hysterically, his features contorted in terror. “Anything you want, man! Please—I won’t ever do it again. Just please put me down, please!”

Edward and Emmett appeared by Jasper’s side and forcibly lowered the quarterback from the wall. Emmett locked him in a choke hold and pushed him forward while Edward made a barrier of himself so that Jasper could not pursue.

“Are you okay?” Alice asked frantically, her golden eyes staring into yours. Rosalie pulled your skirt back up around your hips, but the cloth was ripped at the zipper and couldn’t be reattached. Tears were streaming down at your eyes at that point, but you nodded, too lost for words to reply. 

“She needs some new clothes,” Rosalie warned, guarding your vulnerable form with her body. You stared at your pathetic skirt. It was a cute little plaid design you found while shopping at a thrift store in Port Angeles on your way from the airport.

Jasper took the leather jacket from his shoulders and handed it to his sister carefully. She tied the thing around your waist on top of the skirt so that it held it together. Then, they led you to the office.

Within three minutes, a squad car showed up. It was the police Chief, Charlie Swan, a man with a thick black mustache and chocolate dark eyes. He took one look at David before hauling him in handcuffs.

“This is the second complaint we’ve had against you this month,” he announced through gritted teeth. “Except this time, we’ve got witnesses. You had such promise kid, but all you want to be is a sex offender.”

David cried in protest before he was thrown in the back of the car. 

“Are you alright?” the Chief asked. “You’ll have to come by the station for questioning and a full police report. . .do you think you’re in an okay mental state to do so?”

You nodded. “But can I go home first? He broke my skirt.”

He reflexively looked at your waist which resulted in Jasper hawking him down. 

“Of course. And if possible, bring the skirt back with you in a plastic bag. It’s evidence.”

The siblings escorted you to your car, where, interestingly enough, a crowd had formed.

“Thanks, you guys, I don’t think things would’ve turned out as fortunate as they did if not for y’all.” You looked up at Jasper’s warm honey eyes. “And I thank you most of all, Jasper. You turned out to be my savior tonight.”

He gazed back at you, and you felt a flood of emotions you couldn’t explain. 

“It’s my pleasure,” he said, “And you’re welcome.”

“Do you need someone to drive you home?” Alice asked, her hands squeezing yours. “Besides, we all have to come to the station anyway. I can ride with you.”

“Oh, but I couldn’t trouble you—”

“It’s okay, I’ll drive the boys to the station while you and Alice run home,” Rosalie said, pointing to her beaming red BMW. 

You weren’t surprised that when you arrived at the station your mother was there. She immediately pulled you into her arms, her crushing embrace enough to suck the air out of you. 

“My baby!” she cried, holding your cheeks. “What would I do if something ever happened to you! I should’ve put you in those jujitsu classes like you asked last year. I’m so sorry I put you in this terrible situation!”

You shook your head and pried her off of you. “Mom, Mom! It’s okay, I’m alright. Jasper and his siblings handled the situation just fine. Please calm down.”

Beside her, you realized Dr. Cullen and his wife stood by their children. They appeared to be such a charming family, but it was strange how they all had the same amber colored eyes though they were not all related.

“Jasper, I should reward you handsomely for this! That’s it, I’m ending my shift early. You all can come to our house . . .it’s about time we tell the news to Y/N anyway.”

“Y/N,” Dr. Cullen said, extending his hand, “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

‘Finally,’ you wondered. “And you as well. Mom talks about you quite a bit at home.”

Esme hugged your shoulders just as tightly as your mother did. She smelled very good, like warm citrus and berries. “I’m glad you’re okay, sweetheart. If you ever need to talk, we’re here for you.”

You finished the police report, and everybody climbed in their cars headed home. What news your mother had in store for you, you had no idea. But no matter how much you begged her to tell you, she wouldn’t tell you. 

Your mom ordered pizza—a meal just for you since the Cullens declined and she wasn’t going to eat anyhow—and you sat quietly at the dining room table. It was all so awkward considering you were the only one eating and since it had not been long since you were literally assaulted. 

Jasper sat quietly at the other end of the table, his eyes trained on the vase of flowers on the center of the table. You really wanted to tell him your appreciation in private, but since your departure at the car, he had not made eye contact with you.

They made conversation quietly, but it all felt like meaningless hum in the grand scheme of things. Perhaps they were waiting on you to say something first.

“So. . .what is it that you wanted to tell me?” you asked your mom, biting the inside of your cheek. You hoped it wasn’t anything bad, you weren't sure if you could handle anything else.

Your mom smiled reassuringly. “I know you’re probably freaking out, but I promise, it’s nothing to worry about. You know how you’ve always wanted to have siblings or cousins of your own?”

You gasped, rising from your chair. “Are you finally adopting again!”

Everybody at the table laughed. She shook her head.

“No, even better. The truth is, I actually have a family you’ve never met before.”

Your brows scrunched together. “Really? Who are they? And I mean, why haven’t we ever met them?”

She sighed. “Well, the reason is quite complicated. I’ll tell you about that later. But the thing is—Carlisle is my younger brother.”

“Wait what?!” you shouted. “He’s your what?!”

“That’s right,” he grinned, “Carmine’s my sister. So I guess, in a way, that makes me your uncle.”

“Wow,” you breathed, “So you’re my adoptive mom’s brother who has adopted kids who are my adopted cousins.”

Everybody again laughed at your reaction. Your cheeks were hot with embarrassment, but for some reason, you didn’t seem as tense as you were before. You got up to hug all of the Cullens—your new family. You finally had people and loved ones to call your own; people you could trust and stood up for you when you couldn’t stand up for yourself.

When you finally got to Jasper, your heart rate soared. How lucky you were to have such an intelligent, kind, and strong person in your life! But secretly, there was a twinge of regret inside you. This feeling you felt for him—it was a crush. Cousins weren’t allowed to have crushed on each other.

“Something the matter?” he teased with a little smirk.

“Of course not I—”

He gently wrapped his arms around you and pulled you in close. He was cold and firm like a giant teddy bear left untouched on a bed. You wanted to hold him tighter and transfer your warmth to him, but just as quickly as you had the thought, the hug finished.

“We have so much to talk about!” Alice exclaimed. “You’re into the vintage aesthetics, aren’t you? There’s a lovely red dress I’ve been saving in my closet specifically for you!”

And with that, Rosalie and Alice whisked you away upstairs where you three began a wonderful, life-long friendship.

Okay but mad Jasper is a vibe.

Part One    Part Three   Part Four

[dreams-madeof-strawberrylemonade]

Shoelace

So this is the first request I got, thank you anon, hope you’re seeing this and you like it!! Title isn’t quite the best, sorry about that lol

Request:  I know the boys have mentioned that they go to thrift and antique shops often and that's were they get most of their clothes. Could you write a story about shopping in an antique shop and (literally) running into the boys there? Warnings: none Word count: 1418 words Thoughts and memories are written in italic. 

You woke up really early in the morning, the loud sound of the cars being the reason. You usually liked to sleep in, but since you were already up, it was no use to go back to sleep. You figured you could just watch the sunrise.

While you changed your pajama with the clothes you chose for the day, you watched the calendar on your wall. Tomorrow was the day. You had a big smiling face drawn next to the number of tomorrow’s date.

Finally. It felt like this day would never come, you thought and smiled to yourself as you put water in the kettle, waiting for it to boil.

You have grown up in a music-loving family and you easily picked up this love for bands, and music in general. You have always dreamt of having your own band and seeing the world, but most importantly, you dreamt of expressing your feelings with people and connecting with them.

Tomorrow was the day you would finally see Greta Van Fleet live. You bought tickets months in advance. It blew your mind how these boys that were your age managed to get so far already, and the idea that this is just the beginning of their evolution blew your mind even more. Even though their home town was in the same state as you were living in, you never got a chance to see them perform.

While you were sitting by the window, deep in thoughts and your excitement almost sky-rocketing, you noticed that the water for your tea just started boiling. You poured yourself a cup, and put in the tea packet and kept the cup in your hands, warming yourself.

Today you had a free day from work; actually even better- the whole week was free. You decided to call your best friend and ask her to join you to a day out. You needed to go thrifting to find the perfect outfit for the gig tomorrow.

Like she read your mind, your phone lit up. You read the text message: “Figured since tomorrow is the big day, we need to go shopping. Meet you at 11 by the fountain. Love ya”

You smiled and just answered her text with a thumbs up emoji.

You let your phone fall back on the bed sheets and returned to the window and admired the beauty of the sunrise, while slowly sipping on your tea.

Before going out, you decided to have a look in your closet and tried to put together an outfit, but nothing had that vibe you were looking for.

Time passed faster than expected, so now you were running late. You were always running late when you had to meet your friends.

It was 15 minutes pass 11, and Lisa, your best friend, wasn’t there either. You rolled your eyes and waited patiently. Soon, she appeared down the street, not hurrying and taking her time. You two were almost opposites, but the way you could understand each other made your friendship work. You were like Ying and Yang.

You greeted each other and started visiting the thrift shops one by one. In each one you found several good pieces, but none were exactly what you were looking for, but you still took them anyway.

Three hours must have passed since you and Lisa were walking from store to store, and you finally reached the last one, which was actually one of your favorites.

This shop always met your dreams. Whatever pieces you had in your mind, you could always find it there – from sweaters, to pants, handmade dreamcatchers and antique jewelry.

You and Lisa walked in, ready for action. The moment you entered the store, your eye caught a couple of items. You picked them off the shelf, and on your way to the dressing cabin, you picked up a couple more.

You tried on what you got and asked Lisa to come in and give her honest opinion on the outfit you put together, but she didn’t answer.

“Lisa!” you called out one more time. Still no answer. You put on your shoes and picked up the clothes you were previously dressed with and stepped out of the cabin. You looked around the corner and once you saw she wasn’t there, you jogged to where you’ve last seen her.

In your brisk jog, you stepped on your untied shoelace and tripped over, almost falling over a group of men that were looking at the vintage shirts section.

“Holy- “ you heard the moment you realized you didn’t hit the floor, but you were dangerously close to it. You had your eyes tightly shut, waiting for the moment of the impact, but since it didn’t come, you dared to peek at the surroundings.

That was the moment you would have fallen again, if you weren’t already kept inches off the floor by a strong pair of arms. It was like one of those cliché movie moments, when the guy catches the girl just before falling in front of him.

“Are you okay?” the dark haired man asked you as one of his shorter- much shorter- friends came to your help.

“You almost had quite a fall,” the shorter one talked and laughed.

As surreal as it seemed, they were the boys from Greta Van Fleet. You gulped and your cheeks heated up.

“Yeah, thanks for catching me,” you managed to say. “I would have probably been missing a tooth now if it weren’t for you,” you tried to lighten up the atmosphere.

“Daniel, actually Danny,” the man who caught you presented himself and his lips formed a smile. But you already knew who was each one of them, and honestly, you were trying not to fangirl.

“Y/F/N,” you introduced yourself.

The shorter one stretched out his hand. “Josh,” he said and you grabbed it and shook it. “These are my brothers, Jake and Sam,” he added and pointed to each one of them. The two of them witnessed the whole thing as well, but immediately resumed looking through a small basket of necklaces.

“I’m a big fan,” you spoke up and your cheeks heated up a little bit more.

They all stopped what they were doing, and a smile spread on all their faces. “Happy to hear that! It is an overwhelming feeling, at least for me, every time we meet fans, because we have been fans all our lives, and now we are the ones sharing a message and people are taking it in with love,” Josh said.

His little speech made you smile and just as you were about to say something, Lisa approached you.

“Have you seen this-“ she started but stopped. “Oh my…”

The boys laughed at her reaction as you stood in silence, figuring you already had the color of a tomato, but it didn’t matter.

“Are you coming to the gig tomorrow?” Sam asked, his brown eyes looking straight into yours. You just nodded as an answer. “Do you live here?” he questioned again and this time Lisa confirmed.

“Cool! Can’t wait to see you there!” Josh joined in the chat. “You said your name is Y/N, right?” he asked again as he took a post-it note out of his khaki pants’ back pocket and took a ballpoint pen off the counter in the store. You nodded again and watched him with interest.

“Here you go,” he said quickly and handed you the post-it. It had a VIP backstage code that stood instead of a pass for the concert tomorrow. Both you and Lisa got one.

You gasped as your eyes burned a little, that little burn before the tears. You hugged Josh and thanked him multiple times. “Sorry, shouldn’t have done that,” you admitted slightly embarrassed at your behavior.

“It’s alright darling,” he smiled and hugged you back.

The hugs continued for a quite a while. These boys were so humble and down to earth. They had the kindest souls that you have ever crossed paths with. It still seemed so surreal. Meeting them in your local thrift store wasn’t something you expected when you woke up that morning.

“So since you’re locals, would you want to show us around for a good place to have lunch?” Jake asked and smiled.  Lisa let out an excited squeal and nodded.

“What kind of place would you like to go to?” you asked, trying to contain yourself.

“Whichever is your favorite, since you two will be joining us,” Josh grinned.

Tags: @myownparadise96, @jeordinevankiszka, @littlegeekwonder

[xsandjenos]

Spend This Day With You // Mark Lee

Summary: This is a birthday gift for my sister @peachesandmark I hope you have an awesome birthday! Go follow her she makes nct dream blurbs :))

Word Count: 1020 words

Genre: fluff, boyfriend au

A/N: I’m in a rush because my brother wants to use the computer so I had zero time to proofread this lol

You watched as the sunlight spilled through your window as you opened the cream coloured curtains. It was a beautiful day, but it wasn’t just a typical day, it was your birthday. You never gave your birthday much thought. Sure, it was the day you came into existence and all that, but as you grew older birthdays felt less and less significant. It was a reminder of your age, you were growing up which only meant more responsibilities and more challenges ahead. You thought back to the days of your youth when you’d celebrate with your friends and shovel cake in your mouth only to have a stomach ache later. You smiled at the sweet memory. Birthdays were fun, but only if you had someone to celebrate them with, and unfortunately you did not. You were studying abroad which meant you had left your family behind, your only connection was through phone calls and FaceTime sessions. To make matters worse Mark was busy with promoting his new comeback, meaning you weren’t sure if you’d see him at all this month.

If no one’s going to treat me for my birthday I might as well treat myself, you thought to yourself.

And that’s exactly what you did, you took yourself out on a shopping spree, accumulating various articles of clothing. From t-shirts to dresses you had scoured numerous thrift stores snatching the best looks off the racks. You loved thrifting, you glanced down at your bags with a satisfied smile. Looks like I hit the jackpot today.  

The ring of your cellphone  interrupted your thoughts, “Hello?”

“Y/N it’s Jaemin, I just wanted to greet you happy birthday! And I was wondering if you wanted to meet up. I want to treat to lunch after rehearsal,”

“Sure.”

“Great! I’ll text you when I’m done,” Jaemin said happily.

You shut your phone off with a sigh, you were grateful you had a friend like Jaemin, but you wished you’d gotten a call from Mark. All your friends and family had greeted you except for him. Was he really too busy to even send a text or call. You shrugged it off, it was one of the many downsides of being an idol and that was something you had to accept. You looked down at your lockscreen, it was a picture of Mark smiling from across the dining table. You had taken the photo during your last date, it felt like that was ages ago.

I miss you and your stupid smile Mark Lee.

* * *

“Move the balloons a bit more, Haechan. To the left! No, that’s the right,” Mark let out a pained sigh. He wanted this party to be perfect, it was the least he could do after all those days without contacting you. He felt a pang of regret wash over him, if only he had sent a simple text or call to reassure you. Mark shook off the thought, what mattered now was that he was able to spend time with you on your birthday.

He had everything planned down to the very last detail. He asked Jaemin to take Y/N out for lunch and bring them back here at 2:00pm. It was now 1:30 in the afternoon and he still wasn’t finished decorating the room. He peered over his shoulder to see Jisung sneaking a handful of candy. “Jisung! Did you hang up the streamers yet?”

“No, but I will,” the boy replied through his candy-stuffed cheeks as he gave Mark a thumbs up.

I should’ve asked Doyoung for help, Mark thought to himself. Doyoung was very organized, he had a knack for getting things done, an example of that would’ve been when it was Yuta and Sicheng’s birthday. He hosted the party and made sure everyone followed the schedule. Right now Mark was way off schedule, and Jaemin would be coming back with Y/N any minute now.

“Hyung, where do I put all these?” Jeno asked, his arms full of presents.

“On the table next to the keyboard.”

Mark looked over to see Haechan singing-more like screaming to the tune of ‘happy birthday.’

Mark frowned, “That’s enough Mariah Carey,”

Haechan pouted, “I’m just testing the mic,”

“It works. No need for any more tests.”

Chenle ran into the room and flicked off the light switch. “Y/N and Jaemin are here!”

All the boys crouched behind the cake table, as they all waited anxiously. They’d been preparing for this day for weeks now, and the day had finally come.

“It’s so dark, we should turn on the lights,” Jaemin said with a grin.

“Surprise!” The dreamies yelled jumping up from behind the table. They began to cheer and as they walked over to you with a birthday cake.

“Happy Birthday Y/N,” Mark smiled as he brought the cake closer to you, “make a wish.”

You closed your eyes, you already had everything you wanted, you weren’t sure what to wish for. You had a loving group of friends family, and your boyfriend had surprised you on your special day. What more could you ask for? You blew out the candle with a smile of content plastered on your face.

“What did you wish for?”

“Nothing.”

Mark eyes widened in surprise, “What why?”

“Because my wish came true. You’re here,”

Mark smiled at you with loving eyes, “Happy birthday Y/N,” he said as pressed a kiss to your lips.

“Ewww,” the dreamies groaned in disgust.

“If you guys are done..” Haechan said pointing the mic towards you and Mark. I have a song to sing for Y/N.”

Mark sighed as he braced himself for Haechan’s over the top singing.

“This one’s for you Y/N!” Haechan yelled into the mic.

You laughed at the boy, you were thankful to have people to share your birthday with. It made you feel special, it brought you back to your childhood memories of balloons and pizza parties. You had grown out of that phase, birthdays began to felt less and less significant, but today, it felt like the best day ever.

Happy birthday to me.

[eldritchsurveys]

319.

Do you prefer your nails long or short? Why? >> Short, because typing with long nails is like the worst kind of hell for me. Also, they just get in the way more when they’re long, and become a liability.

Do you have any vinyl records? >> Yeah.

Do you actually listen to them? >> Sometimes.

What kind of shampoo do you prefer? >> I have a shea butter shampoo that I like.

What about your favorite bodywash? >> I use Yardley’s lavender soap most often, because it’s inexpensive and smells nice. But sometimes I’ll splurge for like, Alaffia or Shea Moisture or something like that.

Are you picky about brand name for anything? >> Only with things like hygiene products and lotions and makeup and what-not. But even then, there are perfectly acceptable store brand versions of many of the hygiene products I like... so I don’t know. I’m not like devoted to any brands.

Do elevators freak you out? >> No.

Are you still in touch with your best friend from high school? >> ---

Which serial killer(s) do you find most fascinating? >> I’m not sure which one I’d find the most fascinating; I don’t know all that much about most of them (or I get them confused with one another, which happens fairly often) and every time I hear an interesting crime story I end up forgetting who it even was that did it. Also, like... most of the stories aren’t that interesting to me. I remember a few months ago someone who is apparently into True Crime shit told me about the Toy Box Killer and “omg it was so horrible” and so with great interest I looked it up and... like, okay, sounds like a pretty standard serial torturer/rapist story to me. He didn’t even do anything unique (although he did die on my birthday, hah). Anyway, my point is most serial killer stories bore me, the end.

Do you think Darlie Routier is guilty, or the case is worth reexamining? >> I don’t even know who that is.

Do you ever watch Cold Case Files or World's Most Evil Killers? >> No.

Have you ever visited any celebrity gravesites? >> No.

How do you feel about archaeology? >> I’m not interested in it, so I don’t have any feelings about it.

Any animals whose behaviors you find particularly interesting? >> Most animals have interesting behaviours, if only for the fact that I, a human, don’t do those same behaviours -- so there’s a novelty aspect.

What are your thoughts on gun control? >> I think guns should be controlled. The end.

Have you ever had an exotic pet? >> No.

Would you have a big cat (like a tiger) for a pet if you could? >> Nope.

Do you like animals better than most humans? >> No, and that’s definitely one sentence I’m so tired of hearing.

The world is a scary place - do you believe there's still good out there? >> I don’t even believe the world is a scary place, so let’s start with that.

What simple things in life bring you the most joy? >> Just about all of the things that bring me joy are pretty simple, actually.

What are your favorite smells? >> I don’t know, I have a few, I guess, but I don’t feel like thinking of them.

Ever found anything cool at a thrift store? What was it? >> I mean, probably, but I don’t remember.

Do you still use a radio, or just use your phone/computer for music? >> I use my phone, mostly.

How do you find new music to listen to when you want it? >> Spotify playlists.

Do you like all those dystopian future books/movies? >> In general, I’m not very interested in dystopian stories. They tend to get really formulaic really quickly, and it’s not a formula I like enough to put up with.

Have you ever had to block people online for harassing you? >> Yeah, but not often.

What kind of socks do you prefer to wear? (Crew, ankle, knee, etc) >> Ankle.

Do you have any family heirlooms? What? >> No.

Isn't reality scarier than anything in those horror movies? >> *shrug*

If you collect anything, what is your favorite piece of that collection? >> ---

How did you meet your significant other (if you have one)? >> Tumblr.

How did you meet your best friend? >> ---

Are you friends with anybody you didn't like at first? >> It’s usually that people don’t like me at first but then that changes later on.

Are there any musicians you didn't like at first, but grew on you? >> Yeah, particularly bands I hated as a kid.

Is there anything you used to love, but now dislike? >> Maybe, but that happens far less often than the other way around.

Have you watched Seth MacFarlane's The Orville? >> No.

What is your favorite thing to do on The Sims? >> Make new Sims, apparently, considering how many times I’ve started save files and then just abandoned them.

If you have any, what is your favorite expansion pack for The Sims? >> I don’t know what my favourite expansion would be, I’ve played so many of them.

Did you ever play The Sims Medieval? >> That one I did not play.

Do you have any tattoos? >> Yes.

If yes, is there any meaning behind them? >> Of course.

If no, do you want any? What would you like? >> ---

Have you dyed your hair more than once (and different colors)? >> Yeah.

Which hair color you've had has been your favorite? >> I don’t know, I don’t think I had a favourite.

Your favorite place to be aside from your home? >> *shrug*

If you were stupid-rich, would you ever actually want a mansion? >> I wouldn’t even want to be stupid rich. Definitely don’t want a mansion.

Do you have any favorite books you'd like to have signed by the author? >> No. I mean, it’d be cool, I guess, but it’s not something I’d seek out intentionally.

Did you ever read Good Omens? >> Yeah, a long time ago.

Are you planning on watching the show based on it? >> Nope.

Do you enjoy any of those old black and white horror films? >> The only one I remember seeing was The Birds and that was pretty okay.

Does glitter annoy you? >> The look of it doesn’t, but having it all over me and everything around me does.

What kind of makeup remover do you prefer? (If you wear makeup.) >> ---

Did you ever sit alone at lunch in school? >> I usually did, yeah.

Did random people come sit with you to try to be nice? >> Occasionally.

Do you like any board games or card games? >> Meh.

What is your favorite part of your physical appearance? >> *shrug* I like my skin colour?

Do you know anybody who puts ketchup on their mac n cheese? >> Probably.

Can you drink your coffee black? >> I can.

What is your favorite kind of tea? >> I like most herbal teas. And jasmine green tea, of course.

What is your least favorite beverage? >> I don’t have one.

Root beer floats -- delicious, or nasty? >> I don’t think I’d drink one.

Are there any foods you never get tired of? >> Yeah, veggie burgers, for some reason.

Do you remember your first celebrity crush? Who was it? >> Probably, like, Yul Brynner. 

Do you shave up past your knees (if you shave your legs)? >> ---

What color are the eyes of your significant other (or crush)? >> Sparrow’s eyes are green. She actually had to tell me that a while ago because I had no idea and didn’t really think about it until a survey asked me.

Did you see the miniseries When We Rise about LGBTQ+ activist Cleve Jones? >> No.

What historical figure(s) are you most interested in? >> Quite a few, but usually the “darker” ones. Like Gilles de Rais and shit.

What are your favorite non-fiction books, if any? >> There are a lot of nonfiction books I like, but none really stick out to me as favourites right now.

What are your guilty pleasures, if any? >> ---

Are you comfortable talking about sex? >> Sure.

Do you think a lot of people are too uptight about sexuality? >> I think people are as uptight as they want to be, and that’s their business.

Do you think you could ever be in an open relationship? >> I am in one, and I prefer them -- particularly so the other person can get their needs fulfilled and be happy. I don’t have many pressing needs of that nature, lmao.

Any old home remedies you use when you're sick? >> I don’t get sick often enough to have any preferred home remedies.

[plintern]

Week 4

Monday, July 2 to Friday, July 7

Monday: Here we go again!

Man, is it a Monday. Tough to wake up this morning, but this was the Monday to wake me up--two programs to attend and a lunch with my mentor and her boss. I started off the day at the newest of my library’s branches to perform for children during a Music Lab. Our library’s summer theme is music, and all three branches are hosting Music Labs on the same weekday every week for the rest of July to introduce children 5 and under to music. There are some easy crafts (like coloring pages and bookmarks), a guitar (with only three strings…) and electric piano for the kids to play around on, and laptops to explore types of music. A part of my job this summer is attending nearly every Music Lab in July, and today was my very first one. I’m not quite sure yet what my Labs may look like at other branches, but today I set up shop in the corner of the storytime room where these Labs take place. I played a variety of pieces on my cello that were already in my repertoire--mostly movements from the Bach solo cello suites. I was amazed to see the smiling and wondrous faces of the kids as they heard the music through the doorway and meandered in. It was inspiring. In essence, I provided a backdrop of music to the walk-in climate of the Music Lab, for both parents and their little ones. It was adorable!

Afterwards, I drove across the city back to my office to meet up with my mentor and her boss (the executive director from the branch I visited last Friday--remember him?). It was a wonderful lunch that helped us break the ice further than our conversation on Friday. We talked just about everything, from the World Cup to superheroes to poetry! The taco-filled lunch was splendid.

I returned to my office, stomach full, to get some quick work in before heading to yet another branch for a Kid Zone program. At this program, subtitled “You Can Hear Music On That?” I assisted an Early Literacy librarian with showing young kids (aged 6-8) how music has progressed throughout the years in terms of how it is listened to. From phonographs to Amazon’s Echo, displays were set up around the room for children to look at (and hear) the transformation of music. She introduced the program by showing them some music boxes and explaining how to be careful with each of the devices available. The children were also given half-sheets of blue paper and a music pencil to complete a matching game, where they connected each musical device to the date in which it was invented. Kids mostly exercised self-autonomy as they traveled from game to game. Initially, most were drawn to the Amazon Echo--they loved asking Alexa to play different Kidz Bop songs for them. At some point I attempted to meme it up by saying “this is so sad alexa play despacito,” but I garnered not even a mere chuckle, not even from the 15 year old volunteer that was also with us. Alas, I am left to meme in solitude.

Following Alexa, the kids were very drawn to the Code-A-Pillar, a caterpillar with detachable segments with different tasks that when assembled caused the technological critter to advance in a form dictated by the ‘codes.’ I myself observed the children converse with Alexa and giggle with the insect, but seeing as they were autonomous, I ventured around the room to the sole children who were exploring some older gadgets, to see what, perhaps, they may need. Eventually, I ended up at the station with the record player, and my attention for the next several minutes was completely enraptured with these vinyls. Most of the devices used to share music with these children came from the EL Librarian’s own haul, and she found most of these vinyls at a local thrift store. I popped several into the record player, and particularly found myself drawn to one that featured Victor Herbert, my favorite composer.

After perusing the records, I helped the kiddos build a music box together, make music necklaces and bracelets, take care of snacks, and then clean up at the conclusion of the event, all while playing my cello intermittently. While cleaning, I commented to the librarian how much I enjoyed her records, and to my surprise, she said I could keep all nine of the records in the collection that housed the Herbert. Astounded and grateful, I took home two physical momentos: the set of nine records and a music bracelet I added to my cello case. More than that, though, was what I learned: it takes very little to make a kid’s day.

Tuesday: Driving is my job.

Much like yesterday, where I began work at one branch, traveled to the office, and then to another branch, today consisted of much travel. I began the day at the same branch I did yesterday. Here, I had an intimate Every Child Ready to Read training alongside a new Library Assistant with the same EL Librarian who led the Kid Zone yesterday. I came to the astute observation that I adore this librarian. Her teaching methods are subtle, yet precise, and she kept both I and the assistant engaged throughout the training. The presentation consisted of an explanation of the importance of children reading and the importance of the five practices: talking, singing, reading, writing, and playing. Here are some of the activities she had us do to try and understand how children think at their pre-reading age. Try them out and let me know how well you do!

Activity 1: Decipher this code:    [   *<:    }><#. Using the following alphabet:

A< B/ C* D# E> F+ G\ H** I[ J= K) L] M~ N: O]] P{ Q++ R} S// T^ U! V[[ W(( X>> Y\\ Z|

This forces us to associate figures with letters, much as children learn to read pictures before they learn to read letters and words. To them, letters are just pictures.

Activity 2: Write your name on a piece of paper with your non-dominant hand (if you’re ambidextrous… no fair).

This activity forces us to use a different part of our brain: rather than writing our name, we are drawing it. This is much like a child who is learning to use a new part of their brain, and is drawing the image of their name.

In addition to these activities, she also had us learn about different puppets and activities she utilizes during storytimes to engage kids by talking (Heggity Peggity Hen). singing (nursery rhymes), reading (Ten Little Fingers & Ten Little Toes), writing (drawing name), and playing. This last one is the one I learned the most about. She taught us that children’s play is their work, as it is them figuring out the world around them. There are three types of play--single, parallel, and group--that happen in stages as children develop and discover themselves. She also provided us with resources to use and give to children. Afterwards I took my time to explore the branch and become comfortable with the spaces. I was already pretty familiar with this branch, as it was the location in which I studied for my SAT and ACT exams, but then again I only stayed in the study sections and fiction shelves in those dark times. So, I revisited the storytime room I played in yesterday, and the rest of the small area. This is our smallest branch, so there wasn’t much to see, but it gave me a better understanding and sense of home to spend some time on my own in the area. When finished, I went off to a personal appointment, and then traveled to another branch across town.

Here, I took part in my second-ever Music Lab. This branch had a much different environment--yesterday’s lab was full of kids coming in and out, playing with excitement, but this branch had a much more laid back environment. Only four kids that weren’t volunteers ever came in the room, and none of them at the same time. Much of the activities that we had were the same, like having bookmarks and coloring pages, but this branch did not have a guitar nor a piano. Instead, there was an out-of-tune ukulele, some percussion instruments, and an interactive floor piano that kids could play with their feet. I played my cello upon request here, and it was wonderful to see when kids were interested in hearing the instrument. One mother in particular adored the cello, and we had a wonderful conversation about Yo-Yo Ma after I played for her. Apart from playing, I put some stickers that were lying about upon my cello case, and I conversed with the kids and volunteers there. These volunteers were some of the friendliest kids I’d met--much more approachable than the volunteers at the branch I visited yesterday. One of the volunteers even drew and colored a cello for me, and his face lit up when I said I was coming back every Tuesday--that is the sort of interaction that keeps me motivated and reminds me how lucky I am to have this job.

Thursday: Office? I’ve never heard of her.

Much like Tuesday, I spent most of today at another branch. I had a branch training at our largest and oldest library, where I met with the site manager, had a tour, and discussed my project proposals. This is the library that I am most unfamiliar with, so I believe I learned more today about the libraries in my community than I have at the other sites. The manager is the newest leadership member of the library, having held her post for about a year. I knew her before coming to this training, however--she is the mom of one of my high school friends. This was both refreshing and comforting for me, as the environment was already jovial and understanding. There was essentially very little ice to break. We started by discussing the history of the branch, where I learned how much remodeling and complications the library has endured since its creation in the early twentieth century. Then we discussed how much had changed since this manager had come on board, specifically with staff turnover and reforming some outdated processes. The mornings at this branch are dedicated more towards early literacy, for the ‘trouble times’ of 12 to 5 exist in the afternoon where librarians must deal with infractions to the library code of conduct. However, these issues are not such a problem now, since the trouble seems to be more seasonal, occurring in the winter. I learned of the four stages of a team--forming, storming, norming, and performing--and how outreach groups in the city interact with the library. She also shared the importance of having more staff-to-patron interaction than posters, and having libraries be evolving and relevant to the demands of the public. We spoke much of the difficulties the library faces, but also remained hopeful towards what she is working on for the future. Then, we took a tour of the building, where she specifically showed me two areas that she is hoping to revamp in the coming years to be more relevant and helpful to the public. During this walk, we spoke much about the microbusinesses of a library, how space is allocated and utilized, and about the upcoming cycle of a master plan where she will work with other library leadership and a consultant to create a vision and goals for the upcoming years. Microbusinesses in a library include tasks such as inventory, and it was eye-opening for me to understand the depth of the services that the library provides, specifically at this branch. After our tour, we returned to her office and discussed my project proposals. Much like my discussion with the manager of the branch that I met with last week, she was incredibly helpful in her feedback. While last week, the manager kept me realistic and helped me understand my parameters, this manager helped me see what my projects could become if I did in fact hit all the roadblocks that lay ahead, so I could be prepared to reform my ideas if need be. I left my meeting with her feeling hopeful and wise.

I rushed back to my office for a quick lunch before returning to the same branch for my last Music Lab of the week. Again, every Music Lab is different, and this one was no exception. Like my Tuesday lab, very few children came into the room; my guess is about 5 or 6 kids total over the length of the program. I was quite excited to be there, though--it was led by the Early Literacy librarian that I raved about earlier, and apparently one of the volunteers knew me and was excited to have me there. Also, my high school friend that I haven’t seen all summer came to visit! It was a wonderful time, where I played cello for the majority of the time for our small audiences. We had a whiteboard with musical notes and staves for the children to learn, an iPad connected to a projector, several percussion instruments (much more than on Tuesday), an out-of-tune guitar, and again several coloring pages and crafts. I tuned the guitar for the parents of some of the kids and briefly interacted with the volunteers, but most of the time I spent sharing my music with those in attendance. The intermittent applause made me so happy--I know these Music Labs will be a consolation and safe, happy place every week.

Friday: Work, work, work, work.

How anybody can expect a man to work on a day of the world cup quarterfinals is beyond me, but alas, I did. While Uruguay lost to France, and Brazil subsequently fell to Belgium, my little Latino heart was crushed--all I could do was check every time I met one of my short-term goals, and then cry a little bit inside. Of course, this all happened during one of the most focused days I’ve had in awhile. I spent the day in my office, and the majority of which I spent editing my proposal drafts. I cross-analyzed the feedback I received from both branch managers I met with as well as my meeting last week with my mentor, and I worked through the holes, weak points, and challenges of each proposal. I did so through going through my extensive notes, annotating my previous drafts, and then changing my drafts to modify my current visions. The meeting where I will present my finished drafts is next Thursday, so I need to have my drafts as revisited and polished as possible for that date. I’m proud of the work I did. I worked efficiently and heavily in preparation to show these re-drafts to my boss during our check-in meeting this afternoon, but alas, she rescheduled last minute to next Monday. This gave me some time to prepare for my Music Labs next week as well as organize myself for other upcoming programs. I also realized I’ll be working next week right after the world cup final--will I be able to survive? Anyways, during my Music Labs this week I mostly played music from my own repertoire--Bach movements, some romantic pieces, etc. I think children will enjoy my playing more if I am playing pieces more relevant to them, so I tried to find pieces they might recognize, like an arrangement of the Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings theme songs. I soon realized, however, that the age range of music lab kids (under 5 or 6) means that they probably wouldn’t recognize these tunes. So, instead, I looked for some recognizable classical tunes--like the Can Can or the Waltz from Sleeping Beauty--instead, alongside songs everyone knows, like Wheels on the Bus and the ABCs. I found a large cache of music and I feel prepared to practice it and have a more personal concert series next week.

What Did I Learn?

I learned the most about programming and library history this week through my interactions with staff, kids, and parents. It was busy and immersive, and I also learned about my own limits, and what I can handle as far as loading myself with programs.

Links: 

My city’s library history: https://history.fcgov.com/visit/library-history 

[denbroughbill]

you’re just like a dream

summary: richie tozier and mike hanlon reminisce about things that were, and work on things that could be word count:  3,675

a/n: i finally wrote something for my otp !! if you are interested in a mike and richie fic, please give this a read. i would love to hear everyone's thoughts on it !

read it on ao3 here richie tozier was the only one of his friends who didn't have a car. it didn't bother him much, as his friends were nice enough to pick him up if he needed a ride to work, or just for a parked car conversation late at night. it used to be richie and bill together, like they did most everything, but his parents gifted him a vehicle for his 18th birthday and he more than gladly placed old, reliable silver in a safe corner of the garage soon after. richie sat shot gun in the sweet red honda civic since then, arm hanging out the window. but he couldn't ask bill for a ride today, not when he's last minute gift shopping for him. richie couldn't ask anyone, really, as they were all busy today. he's been real spoiled lately, having a plethora of chauffeurs to choose from, but his feet served him well. the walk to the little antique shop the friends thrifted at together wasn't far from richie's house, but he must have taken a wrong turn somewhere because he was face to face with an old record shop. it was not his desired destination, but he shrugged and pushed through the glass door anyways.

he walked down the only skinny aisle in the middle of rows and rows of nothing but records, old and new. the walls had with fading band posters that were overlapping each other, turned in every direction, and there was a small selection of cassette tapes in a corner of the room. the checkerboard tile floor squeaked beneath richie's yellow converse, the squeaking went silent as he stopped dead in his tracks. he stood in the seemingly empty store in the middle of the aisle, just long enough to distinguish what was playing through the speakers. the sounds of the temptations flooded his senses and he sighed a bit, relaxing. the same song played in the waiting room of his father's dentist office when he visited him at work, and they requested it on jukeboxes when they would eat lunch after church, as a family - bittersweet memories.

however, richie's spirits were instantly lifted when he stumbled across the cure's disintegration album. pictures of you was bill's favorite song, boys don't cry was richie's, and they took turns belting the lyrics when had a little extra time to take the back roads home from school. it was a no brainer this was the perfect gift, so he made his way to the counter. richie was just about to clear his throat lightly for someone to help, but just then, someone popped from behind a self on the other side of the counter, and his breath caught in his throat. "mike?" "hey, rich," mike hanlon grinned behind the counter. richie laid the vinyl down on the counter and as star struck as he was, reached across with no hesitation. mike chuckled under his breath as richie brushed his thumb against his eyebrow, admiring tiny vertical cuts. "yowza, when did this happen?" richie asked, now with mike's jaw in his hand as he turned his head ever so slightly to the left, just to get a better look, and mike turned his head with no problem. the two boys didn't have some dramatic falling out, it's only been a year since the two saw each other, but for richie, it felt a lot longer. mike had never been lucky enough to convince his parents into letting him attend derry high with his friends, and by sophomore year, he quit trying, so they never bumped shoulders at school. the hanlon farm wasn't too far outside of town but richie just never could bring himself to bike over - not after the last time they hung out. "beverly helped me with it," mike smiled as he explained, his face still in richie's hand. "you still hang out with beverly?" richie asked, genuinely shocked. his face was close to mike's as he looked closer at the brow, he could smell mike's aftershave. mike laughed and finally pulled out of richie's grasp. "yeah, she's the only one who still comes and visits," richie could tell he was joking, but he still felt a bit hurt. richie liked mike, always had. he made sure mike didn't trail too far behind the group when the went out and caught a movie, when the sidewalk was too narrowed as they walked, he always pushed mike in front of him. richie and beverly were close, and he couldn't believe she never mentioned mike when they cut class to share a cigarette. he tried to laugh too, though mike scanned the sticker on the back of the album, and didn't bother to bag it. "do you remember-" he paused to laugh, "remember the time eddie and stan argued with us over who was better?" richie nodded, smiling stretching across his face. he remembered all too well. the four boys occupied a booth at the small breakfast diner near the arcade and eddie used all his pocket change to request handsome devil by the smiths on the jukebox. they argued for so long over which band was better, their milkshakes had melted and blended themselves with the whip cream, overly sweet cherry stained the glass red. he shrugged his shoulders a bit, adjusting his glasses, and said simply, "we won that contest." "hell yeah, we did." mike laughed, and the two boys high fived. "just like heaven is better than anything morrisey's ever written." this is one conversation richie could dive into. "it's so rare for smith to be in a romantic, happy mood. that's why the song is so perfect." richie said like it's been rehearsed, leaning against the counter on one arm "it's perfect, but like-" "still something wistful about it, you know?" mike nodded, smiling softly. "yeah. something that makes you feel like it won't last," and richie nodded, too. richie took a glance at the retro wall clock above them on the wall, then to his wrist watch. it just happened to be 7 o'clock on the dot, but he wasn't too sure when this place closed. or if mike would even take richie up on the invitation he was struggling to offer him, this being the first time in a while the two have bumped into each other. he bit his lip, hesitant for only a second, then spoke. "hey, i'm not sure when you close up shop," he noticed mike curiously raise a brow, the one with the slits in it, and richie's voice gave up on him. he cleared his throat. "do you wanna hang out, or something?" mike took a look at his own watch. "would you look at that?" he said with a laugh, "i close up shop at 7 on sundays, rich. perfect timing." he instructioned richie to wait outside the shop as he cleaned up a bit, and richie obligated. he used the small wait as a quick smoke break. richie watched mike move up and down the aisle through the shop windows, he moved quickly, like it was routine, or like he was ready to meet richie outside. he shuffled through records, reorganizing them and mumbling to himself. when mike looked up and caught richie staring, he laughed and shook his head, then waved to him through the glass. richie couldn't hear him, but mike's perfect smile made him feel some sort of way. he waved back, then looked towards the ground. richie didn't raise his head when he heard the shop door close or the keys jiggle as mike locked it behind him, he just took one last long drag of the cigarette between his lips. "where are we heading, exactly?" mike asked, shoving his hands into his jean pockets. richie crushed the cigarette under his heel and pointed down the street. "here, follow me." he began to walk, but stopped at the traffic light when he didn't hear any foot steps behind him. mike laughed. "you sure you don't wanna... i don't know, drive there?" richie shook his head, then slapped his palm against his forehead. "fuck, i forgot. everyone had a car besides me." the drive was shorter and more convenient than the walk on derry's tattered sidewalks could've ever been. richie directed mike to a little comic book store, just a walk down a set of stairs made of brick hidden under a two family house. it's a cute little hole in the wall kind of place, that only two old friends could know about it. mike laughed as they approached the place, he eyed the flickering neon superman logo in the window. "this place hasn't closed down?" richie patted his back pockets, then dug around in his jacket pockets to pull out a set of keys. "god, i hope not. i'd be out of a job then, hanlon." once inside, richie flipped the switch and a couple of fluorescent light fixtures flicked a bit before turning on. the shop was small, and looks like it always has to richie, but mike's eyes widened like a child in a candy shop, memories flooding back. mike took a few steps forward, head turning in all directions to admire the old store, before pausing and taking a step back. "don't tell me, rich," he began, kneeling down to inspect the old carpet. "is this seriously the stain from when you spilled your slushie?" it was a hot summer day in derry and richie refused to listen to the shop owners, trying his best to sneak in giant gulp 7/11 cup under his t-shirt. mike couldn't keep from snickering and it eventually diverted attention to the two sneaky boys. richie tried to elbow mike, maybe get him to shut up, but he spilled his drink instead, the drink he spent all his pocket change on. it stained his shirt and the comic book store's outdated roller rink carpet. richie squatted next to mike and put a hand on his shoulder, "that it is, friend. the cheap bastards that own this place never replaced the carpet." the memory made mike feel warm and fuzzy inside, as silly as it may have been to remembered something like that. he laughed and shook his head, in a way like he couldn't believe it, then stood back up to inspect the rest of the store. richie toyed with a shelve of figurines close to the front of the shop as mike wandered the place. they were small, cheap figurines, not worthy enough to be locked behind glass. richie was rearranging them into sorts of action poses, almost finished by the time mike traveled back to him. mike didn't bother him, though. he pivoted towards the counter by the cash register, where loads of little trinkets and shiny things were locked below glass. under the surface of the counter, there were tiny pins and buttons with logos on them, patches, bumper stickers and belt buckles. "it's crazy they hired you," mike's voice took richie's attention, and he turned his head to watch as mike the items locked away, hovering his finger above the glass. "that they didn't recognize your goofy face. i would personally ban you from the record shop." he slipped behind the counter and stood in front of mike, glass case in between them. he propped his arms on the counter and rested his head in his hands. "you wouldn't have to worry about me, mike. your record shop has tile floor, not carpet." mike stood up straight, taller than richie even on the step behind the counter. "since when did you have a player of your own, anyways?" richie shook his head, "not for me, it's a gift." the fluorescent lights against the brightly colored comics made mike's eyes hurt after working all day. he thought looking at richie was a lot calmer. he wasn't upset that they hadn't talked in a while, he never thought richie forgot about him, he understood people get busy. mike's glad richie stumbled into the record shop earlier, and that they were the type of friends who could pick up where they left off. this store may hold old memories, but the night was young, and mike was ready to catch up, maybe make some new ones. "do you wanna go back to my house and listen to some records?" mike asked, practically blurting it out. he stumbled over some words before rubbing the back of his neck, smile curling at the corner of his mouth. "i mean, if you want." richie nodded quickly, maybe a little too enthusiastically. he waved his hands towards mike, motioning for him to scoot awake from the counter. he did just as such, and richie jumped over it. "smooth." mike acknowledged the skill and it made richie smile, he's been practicing for a while. he flipped the light switched and slipped out the door behind mike, then locked up. it was a lot colder now, richie hunkered down in his jacket and wrapped his arms around himself. "come on," mike smiled, throwing his head in the direction where the car was parked. "we can listen to the cure." richie picked up his pace, walking close to mike now. "you promise?" when he asked, the two boys he see his breath in the cold air, and it fogged up richie's glasses. mike laughed, and assured him, "i promise." mike let the car heat up before pulling from the parking lot. he drove with the windows up, and the heat fogged the windows a bit. richie had been passenger in a lot of car lately. beverly liked to drive fast and dangerously, it was a bad habit of hers but she never seemed to stop at stop signs. unlike ben, however, who was just as a safe driver as eddie. he never started his car until richie buckled up, even if it was with an exasperated sigh. even though richie was shot gun in a car he hadn't been in for a while, it didn't feel new to him, it didn't need any getting used to, just like hanging out with mike again. he slipped right in, and laid his head against the cold glass of the window, watching the town of derry pass by under the blue raspberry sunset. "i'll show you in spring / it's a treacherous thing," mike sang softly under his breath to the cassette playing. he sang softly because he wanted to, just like he did everything. mike hanlon wasn't an extravagant person, he was a very under the radar type of person who did the bare minimum, but boy, did he do it well. richie always admired that about him, and how things came easy to him. the car ride reminded him of laying in the back seat of his parent's car when he was younger, street lights glaring against rain puddle in the streets. he could've nodded off if the drive wasn't so short. the two used the back door of the hanlon house hold as entrance and richie made extra careful to step over mike's dog as they sneaked to mike's room. as soon as mike softly closed the door behind them, they both let out a sigh of relief and laughed at each other. mike plopped down on his bed, as there was no reason to give richie the grand tour of his room, everything was exactly as he remembered it. the wall close to the bed had milk crates stacked on top of each other, from floor to ceiling, filled with books and vinyls. mike sat up to slip the record onto the player, which gave richie just enough space to squeeze next to him on the bed. he set the needle down and the comforting crackle that accompanied the beginning of a record never failed to put richie at ease. the two boys sunk into the bed after the first song finished, richie dreaded getting to comfortable because one of them would have to sit up to flip the record over. for now, he squinted his eyes and traced glow in the dark star constellations on the ceiling with his index finger. "hey, rich," mike whispered. he turned to look a richie, but he was busy outlining the little dipper. "do you remember the last time you were here?" richie remembered very well. it was the night of a day that didn't go very well. the argument him and his mom had wasn't over anything important, but she was too intoxicated to hear his side. she threw an empty bottle in his direction, and luckily missed, the broken glass pieces scattered the living room carpet behind richie. his mom broke down to her knees and tears form in her eyes as she apologized immediately after, but he didn't stay listen. he rode his bike to mike's, the tears streaming down his face were hot but the wind blowing in his direction was cold. he waited on the picnic white fence and smoked an entire pack of cigarettes while he waited for mike's car to pull into the drive way. richie didn't explain or speak very much at all, but mike tried his best to comfort him. but richie just said, "yeah, i remember." mike laughed softly, sitting up, now. "you stayed for like a week," and his parents never bothered to call around to see which friend's house he was staying at. "you helped with all the farm work, you borrowed all of my clothes." riche laughed too. "yeah, i taught mr. chips how to play dead." "and high five!" mike recalled. "we went swimming in that lake, remember?" "in the cold of the night and were sick for the rest of the month? yeah, i remember." and they kissed that night, too. after they ran back to mike's car, dripping wet. they laughed for what felt like hours, surprised they both went through with actually jumping in the ice cold water that time of year. they became so close that week and they stared at each other with furrowed brows in mike's car, trying to comprehend the fact that there was another person - another living, breathing person - the truly understood them. there was a pair of bright eyes that made richie feel like he was at home. the windows of the car were fogged with warmth and richie's felt like his face was burning, the air between them becoming more compacted and harder to inhale. in a matter of seconds, the laughter stopped and their lips pressed together. but neither of the boys chose to recall that moment out loud. richie sat up and yawned, stretching his arms out. he looked at the sleeves of his jacket as he reached for the sky. a worn, denim jacket, where holes were began to form on the elbows due to old age. what a coincidence that he would bump into mike today while wearing the jacket he never returned. "who's the record for, anyways? you said it was a gift?" mike asked. "oh, it's for bill," richie answered, raising his glasses to rub his sleepy eyes. mike nodded, even though richie couldn't see him. he picked at the frays of his ripped jeans as a cocktail of regret and jealous stirred in his stomach. it was him who leaned in to the kiss that night, and he hoped it would convey everything he felt for richie then. he was okay at speaking his mind, but his heart seemed to speak a different language. mike never told richie is exactly what that kiss was supposed to mean, and as close as the boys became that faithful week, they drifted apart even quicker. mike was confused and didn't want to hurt richie, so he strayed far, far away. the only noise in the room was robert smith playing softly. "i'm not dating him or anything, if that's what you think." richie spoke up, sitting at the edge of the bed now. mike nodded again, that was all he needed to hear. "i kissed her face and kissed her head / and dreamed of all the different ways i had / to make her glow," he cleared his throat and richie turned to him. there had to be some reason they bumped into each other today, and mike wasn't going to let this chance get away from him again. he pulled the unsuspecting boy by the borrowed jacket collar and pressed their lips together. the kiss was so much more than mike had hoped for, all those times he spent thinking of richie over the year were incomparable this this one moment. "why are you so far away?" she said / "why won't you ever know that i'm in love with you / that i'm in love with you," it was passionate, intimate. it felt as though they were the only two in the world, as if they never drifted apart. richie sighed against mike's mouth, letting his body melt against the other boy's. they were as close as two humans could possibly be but mike's hand didn't move from the collar of richie's jacket, begging for more, more, more. "you / soft and only / you," they pulled away just slightly enough for richie to slip his tongue from between his lips. "you know," richie whispered softly against mike's lower lip, breath warm. "i was never mad at you," mike whimpered under his breath, nodding slowly against richie. "lost and lonely / you," mike kissed richie as if he could suck all the negative energy the boy ever experienced out of his body. the kiss was so deep, both felt a shiver through their spines, bodies drawn together magnetically. they kissed with fervor, mike cupping richie's face in his hands. "good," he whispered into richie's mouth. they unfortunately had to pull away to breath but they were light and hazey, their heads spinning in the best kind of way. the long await kiss was rushed and messy, lips were skewed and felt like they were bruising now. they would have a chance to try again, and again, and again, but to them, that one, intense kiss, felt just like heaven. TAG LIST: @stanlons, @steve-harringtwin, @eddskaspbrak, @alpharichie, @b-buh-billy, @pizzas-are-ufos, @trashmcuthtczier, @tozierzzz @reddiebrekmyheart, @richiestoziers, @wyeet,  @yousaidyes, @spookerlymarsh, @eddiekaspbraks-inhaler, @istanuriss, @stealtheeggos, @stanleyyuriss, @grownups-are-the-real-monsters, @trashmouthers

[dreamsanddreams88]

We bought chickens AND bunnies at the same time, really hectic,I was tryna cuddle the bunnies but they would bite sometimes. At one point, in AC origins game trying to hide in a house full of Roman ppl from one of the phylakites that was killing everyone indiscriminately, very scary. I was female character, did the cool thing where i cut ropes on a chandelier and rode the other rope up onto something, one handed. Then i was in airport with alex, we had gone to Japan but then I got freaked out cuz of Corona and we both forgot towear masks

I was in a thrift store and didnt like any of the stuff I grabbed so I went to put it back n leave cuz I was only on lunch break anyway, the shop girl made snide remark about my hair needing to be dyed? She was like, thanks for coming in, come back when ur hair doesnt suck or something. I said fuck you and your orange hair, cuz it was dyed red and faded, but I stuttered n she made fun of it. But then she followed me cuz we all had to go to some meeting? N she was a little nicer. Sat at these tables waiting for alex, we were about to see a show with a drag queen. It was in a mall or something

Was at west again but getting lost, then was back in 4th grade maybe? Looking for new class? Then I was starting to date alex but someone else like jenna was in the room with us, he was spooning me but trying to be secret, jenna thought we were fucking, also I took a shower w him but needed another one, I had taken like 3 showers that day. I was staying w my family somewhere in hotel maybe. Then saw this girl I thought maybe was his ex katie, creeped on her instagram she actually was mixed black girl w blonde hair, was cheerleader n basketball player, really badass and mean. Brian lemaster was in there somewhere. Ar some point I started drinking juice boxes filled with milk before remebering I was lactose intolerant

Dreamed I was signing up for a matchmaking service to get married? It was via snail mail, and it was all girls who were mostly indian I think, or maybe bosnian. One girl was named Imina and sent me some of my writing that she edited, I found it very snooty and rude. Also had accepted someone else before seeing I had a letter from her. Also something with different video games that were scary, but all took place in the same house. One was 5 nights at freddy's themed, one was victorian ghosts, etc.

Was going on charter bus with work and other ppl, were leaving my old house. Kept forgetting my earbuds, went back in to see maids deep cleaning the whole place. Bus went out into cold winter wilderness? I made friends w bus driver, guy looked like william h Macy a little bit. Then i was Rey, kylo ren had captured me and was gonna make me squirt bleach into my eyes so I'd be blind, fought him off and escaped thru the back of a cupboard. He was on island surrounded by stormy sea, freezing cold, and big blocks of calcium formations kept crumbling into it. Force ghost Luke Skywalker appeared to me to tell me death was real but I could escape. Then I was with jenna or sarah, went to hotel looking 4 my parents, nice old ladies were telling me they saw my lost mittens or something? I brushed them off super rude

Was in big house with mafia family. Lots of cars n helicopters falling out of sky, crashing thru glass ceilings. Trying to leave the house, calling business guy when a car falls on him owned by one of the mafia guys. Smthn with a chef from the house, hes really strict when teaching kids how to cook, indian food cant have lemon juice in it? I was licking the glaze off raw chicken and salmon

Was in Laos in war zone, Belgians were bombing the shit out of it and these rare plants called dragon plants were burning, it was way sad. Then it was xmas at parents house but also dads bday, had to help mom take down all xmas decor temporarily until we could open dads presents. Also I didnt trim my zucchini plants and one was like 12 feet tall. Then at work taking break on some huge metal train. Also something about being in some state or royal building, running or hiding from someone

Was with alex in old doornbos house, he was asking me who was in my "network" meaning who had I slept with. I said a bunch of people and he got mad, I was high and tried to explain it was in the past not current. Then I was in theater at the high school across the road, had an improv scene with abby thomas but hadn't rehearsed at all. Went to rehearsal, everybody from hs was there, dawson was teacher, saw shelby drive past. Then smthn about walking bay in the mountains, were super high up in the snow and saw other ppl walking dogs

Something about having traded bodies with ian brauer when we were younger? Or not even traded, I had somehow accidentally possessed him and then had to go to school and pretend like I was him, and then only when I concentrated really hard I went back to my own body which was passed out on the floor of my room.

In a school, had brought imhotep back 2 life n he brought back his gf so we tried running and hiding. Then he was darth Vader and he caught me. Then dream about being on wild ferris wheel kinda ride with mom and Lauren who was sometimes aunt ellen, then in a family of talking dolphins whose step mom was a whale, the dad was joking about how him and the mom might perish at the bottom of the ocean. Then something about a demon possessed lady

Scary dream 1st where I was out walking at night in the forest, looked kinda like lower area of ECOS. The light in a street lamp didnt work, had to use flashlight. Alex showed up with bay who was now a white shih tzu, a frat guy in skeleton costume ran over to scare us. Then I lived in this village/tribe, everyone had hotel rooms kinda. I was back in town going to everyone's rooms, my mom had a room next to mine but she was gone somewhere. Then we were playing guitars, I picked up someones weird acoustic base to try and play. Then I got invite from JC, him and his friends were having a joint wedding in 2026, invite looked like DND character sheet. I was in the forest when scary evil ash cloud exploded out from the ground, kinda like in neverending story or moana. Ran back to village and was safe inside this like, sacred circle? It meant that I was actually the next in line to be the tribal chief. The tribe purposely kept everyone's parentage a secret so it was like the whole village was our parents, but this meant my dad was this one rando young guy who wasnt even the chief? Anyway he hugged me and it was emotional. It meant I had this prophetic duty to defeat these creepy evil eels like in the little mermaid. The water/ocean was this weird quad, with each quadrant being a different depth and color blue. I had to scuba dive to the bottom on a certain date to fight them, matthew/mikey was gonna hold my breathing tubes or something? If I tugged twice he could pull me back up.

In world where mr bean guy was a king n had lots of bodyguards, he was taking on corrupt religious mormon police like in Utah who rode camels and abducted like 500 people for slavery.

Had private teacher lady for something, 8 of us. I couldnt concentrate on test. She gave me spare key to let her dog out, i go in her house and the skylights are open and room full of snow. Then she has dinner party with me, snape, Adonis, michelle/jenn, and a doctor. Ends in screaming match, I'm mad cuz Michelle keeps flirting w Adonis by dropping shit on purpose and making him pick them up. Then I go to doc about weird vaginal discharge and being depressed, hes kind of a quack and doesnt help or listen. Then I was trying to get job at restaurant but all the servers had been at the party and thought I was crazy. Also smthn bout seeing a concert and shawn goggins was in it, jc and elliot were there and I started laughing at him about how that was a girl he cheated on me with but she turned out to be a trans man so he had sex with a dude

I was in world like video game level, in a class w people. Started in weird castle that had secret passages, and then onto these floating balloons above black holes. Tried to jump from one to the other without falling, very scary. Then with alex in a hallway, waiting for some event to start. We climbed up to ledge where there was like a gem/ring stockpile, I started stealing them. Mcgonagall was there and saw us, I was too afraid of heights to climb down. Then event was starting but it was some creepy cult wearing animal masks, I had to pretend like I knew what was happening