#Lighting And Grip Rental Los Angeles

[griptruckrentalslosangeles]

Find the Experienced Film Equipment Rental Services

Filmmaking business is the matter of making more and more profits, lowering the expenditures to some level, promoting the film through delivering the best quality output for viewers, and above all making a strong as well as result-oriented public relationship. The more and superior ways you apply to provide the best films, the better profits at the box office will be! Filmmaking Companies of all domains, sizes, and sectors spend a substantial amount of money on promotion and advertising and always look for some of the best companies and agencies that have a team of professionals like Lighting And Grip Rental Los Angeles to make their film production successful.

In Hollywood, where film companies are turning into big corporate groups; even as new business ventures are gaining momentum as well as moving on the way to success at a speedy pace, film event management, branding, public relationship, advertising as well as marketing have become some of the general words. Nevertheless, another fact is that no company prefers to do these works on their own; even as they would like to get them to work through third parties. They love to pay once just for the year in order that they can focus on growth and creation. When it comes to filmmaking equipment is the concern, searching for the right Lighting And Grip Rental is common. Companies, businesses with organizations for all time look for the top, reputed as well as reliable companies. If you are also of them looking for reputed filmmaking equipment or want to get the services of one of the finest companies in Los Angles, you will have some superior options for fulfilling your prerequisite. Today, there are plenty of renowned companies offering a diversity of filmmaking equipment rental services and support in the best shooting option.

You have to look for the right Lighting Truck Rental Company according to your budget and necessity and leave the rest of the work to the specialist working there. These companies have a team of experts who have managed many events in a thriving way. Not forget to mention their knowledge and experience in managing as well as making any film events successful. There is a bunch more offered in such renowned grip rental companies that are certainly the correct option for those who are perplexed or often find themselves in problems for the extent of production event. Thus don't bother more, just make a contact and let the company do something for you. A veteran Hollywood equipment rental can be a helping hand for your next corporate while they will make use of their existing knowledge & relationship to ensure your film stays a hit. Despite saving money and time, appointing a service that delivers rental companies will bring the best outcome for a future event as well.

[light-it-up-la]

Be on a Progressive Film Production Quality

Moving toward filmmaking planning requires a superior working knowledge of your requirements and systems accessible in the market that will allow you to manage without the need for further time expenditures. Listing your planning schedule will help you categorize areas that investing in a Grip And Lighting Rental will help out you to optimize your tasks. Some of the foremost areas that are not only lengthy but also repetitive turn out to be more time-consuming. And renting out equipment services with reputed companies will not only save time but also turned out to be the best return on investment. 

Lessening down into this section of the workload with expert services is much appreciated. Consequently, while you have a filmmaking business in mind, do ensure that you are perfectly backed up with equipment; also fully integrated as this will make it simple to use over a long period of time. Using 5 Ton Grip Package Los Angeles is to ensure your big production supplies with ease. Since arranging film equipment and configuring the equipment on your own is so time-consuming and makes you wonder why you have not measured an event planning solution in the first place! Gone are the days; when a filmmaker has to run for searching equipment from here and there. Good film grip equipment that is automated and completely integrated with your filmmaking style and requirements will make this a headache of the past. Your handling of any difficult shots will be efficiently made with the latest equipment at your disposal. Additionally; you are getting assistance from the expert of Los Angeles lighting and equipment services to manage and set up the product with ease.

Thus it makes perfect sense to discover tools within Lighting Truck Rental that are suitable to help out you manage the filmmaking tasks that will make your lighting looks more organized, and efficient and with less room for mistakes. The highest quality film equipment packages are available online and you must take your time to browse through those suits your requirement best devoid of the need for extra efforts of setting it right. The advanced equipment just requires the least customization and you can be well on your way to means of it immediately after it is being set up. Filmmaking companies can also benefit from these systems which are now accessible at a most genuine price! Filmmaking events or promo ads are a great technique with productive equipment deals at your service. Managing a big production event is made easy with innovative equipment supplies that are all incorporated neatly based on your budget and style of filmmaking. Thus, avail the best filmmaking lighting and grip packages from Los Angles experts and make your production to get going with a great success rate.

[backonmybullship]

The strike is affecting hair, makeup, lighting, grips, art department, painters, carpenters, editors, script supervisors, production assistants, special effects, stunts, sound, actors, extras and more.

But it's also affecting the local economy in ways you wouldn't think about.

Bars and restaurants near studios are hurting because they're not getting people walking over on their lunch.

A studio lot is a small town. A couple thousand people pass through at any given day and businesses inside the studio lots don't have customers. Restaurants, cafeterias, even salons, masseuses and dentists. If no one can get in a lot because of a picket line, they don't have business.

Equipment rental houses don't have anyone to rent gear to. Most of these are small mom and pop businesses.

Catering companies who serve cast and crew breakfast and lunch every single day. No work for them.

Security companies who work on location with us. No work for them.

Venues that earn thousands of dollars a day primarily as a filming location can't pay their mortgages. There are literally venues and Independent studios that serve as locations for filming more than any other event.

Also if people aren't working they can't shop anywhere else either.

You can't swing a cat in Los Angeles without hitting something that relies on film and television production. There are even banks and credit unions specifically geared toward crew.

This does not affect the millionaire producers show runners and executives. They are safe at home in the Pacific Palisades with multiple Teslas in the garage.

[youngestdaughtersyndrome]

DONT TALK ABOUT THE JACKIE ME AND THIS LADY TOUR THATS WHAT IM SENSITIVE ABOUT

I should never be trusted to drive a vehicle of any kind; not because I am a lousy driver, but because I tighten my grip of the wheel with every passing truck. I look in the newspaper every day for that one headline of a car crash where they simply don’t know what happened. Maybe the driver lost control of the car. Suffered a seizure. Was trying to dodge a child running across the street. Something to explain why his car and insides ended up painting the front of a Canadian frozen goods truck on its way from Montreal to Detroit.

I drove from Portland to Los Angeles once. It was a pleasant trip, heading south, the air getting warmer and the people more tanned. It took me four days to drive because I kept getting distracted and took a small detour in Nevada where I got drunk as hell with a guy who had worked as a circus clown all of his life. We were exactly alike, me and him. It’s easy to distract me because I never know what I should be paying attention to. Is it a new guitar model, the glimpse of something better and more dignified, a pair of brown eyes that always amplified the smile on perfectly shaped lips? During my West Coast road trip, I lost count of the times I saw an oncoming car and considered twisting the wheel to the left. Crash. Bang. Smoke.

I don’t know if anyone else has these thoughts when they drive. I’ve never asked. When I crashed the tour bus back in ’74, I found myself wondering if it was on purpose or not. I didn’t mean to do it, but maybe I subconsciously wanted to.

For a while, we thought Joe would never walk again.

Now I’m driving in a Chevy rental, navigating from O’Hare to an address scribbled on a napkin in messy handwriting that isn’t mine. The car is brown, a light brown that resembles baby shit. It was the only one they had left. The wipers make a wheezing sound as they try to battle away the heavy, wet snowfall.

“Are you nervous?”

I don’t bother looking at the kid on the passenger seat. “No.”

“Brent said,” he begins, launching into yet another lie someone has said about me. People love to talk and talk and talk about me, “that, during Jackie, you were so nervous that you got drunk before every show.”

“He flatters me,” I note, annoyed that this one isn’t a lie at all – the only way I could deal with the pressure of a ten thousand-headed crowd was alcohol. Thanks, Brent, that one will make me look good. No. It will make me look like a victim. Maybe that’s a good thing.

“He also said that it got better during the second leg. You drank less, were more focused. You know, after you met him,” he points out obnoxiously. I resist the urge to steer the car off the road just to shut him up, and when he takes in his dying breath, mouthing an anguished ‘Why?’, I’ll tell him why: because he couldn’t hold his damn tongue. The white snow turns an ugly shade of traffic fume black when it hits the ground, making the surface of the road slippery, but I keep us on the road for now. “Now Gabe. He said that you were never nervous during the Pearl tour. I suppose you changed.”

“You love the sound of your own voice, huh?”

“Yup,” he beams, light brown locks falling in front of his enthusiastic eyes. He has got a young, good-natured face he tries to mature with stubble, but it’s still irrevocably made childlike by the bright energy that’s always there in his words and actions. He’s got slightly hollow cheeks and narrow line-like lips, and a forehead just a fraction tall enough to look like a mismatch. I concentrate on driving, and he falls silent for a while. When he speaks, he sounds troubled. “What if he’s forgotten? Or what if he’s still mad at you?”

“What if I’m still mad at him?”

“You’re not,” he says knowingly. I hate it when he’s right. The snowfall is slowing down, and I shift in my seat uncomfortably and feel the seatbelt scraping the side of my neck. “I’m nervous for you,” he concludes, the excitement now back. I don’t need his nerves, support or shoulder to cry on. He has no idea how much his enthusiasm wears me out. He looks at the map in his lap. “Take the next left,” he commands, and I change lanes. “You know, I wonder what he’s like. I’ve heard so much about him. It’s slightly surreal to meet a stranger that you’ve pictured naked a dozen times. Well, actually, I found this one picture in your house where he was in the nude, so –”

I pull up to the curb, coming to a fast stop. He tenses up, eyes wild as he looks around. “What are you doing?”

“I’ve told you not to touch my fucking stuff,” I say again. Again. The nosy little bastard. “Here, your stop,” I tell him and point out of his window to a shop door that has green, cursive letters: C-A-F-É. “Go get yourself coffee.” Like he needs to be more hyper.

His mouth drops open dramatically. “I’m coming with you!”

I grit my teeth and smile. “No, you’re not.” I glare at him, and he glares back. “Out, Sisky! Out!”

Sisky throws his hands up into the air. “You’re seriously not letting me witness the reunion that would make Romeo and Juliet seem like –”

“There was no reunion for those two – they died.”

“Oh.” Sisky pulls on his bottom lip uncertainly, but recovers quickly. “I never finished the movie, truth be told. They spoke English in such a weird way.”

I unbuckle myself and get out of the car. Chicago is cold, snowflakes landing on my black coat and melting into it. I round the Chevy and open Sisky’s door.

“Okay, okay!” the kid shouts, lifting up his hands. “I’m out! See! Look at how out I am!” He scrunches his nose at the cold, looking more comic than hurt as he shoots me a nasty look.

“I’ll come get you later,” I promise.

“If you don’t, I know where he lives!” He has taken out his black leather notebook and is scribbling in it furiously, completely ignoring the sleet.

I stop at my open door and give him a disbelieving look. “Don’t take notes now.”

“As the infamous Ryan Ross nervously re-entered the car, dumping his devoted and loyal companion by the side of the road like yet another groupie he had loved then abandoned like an unwanted kitten –”

I don’t hear the rest as the door slams shut and I take off. Sisky’s reflection sulks into the café in the rear-view mirror, and I glance at the map on his now empty seat. It doesn’t take me long to get where I’m going.

The car on the driveway is black and classy, this year’s model, a ‘79. It’s much more tasteful than what I park in front of the house, and for a wild moment, I hope none of the Chicagoans living on Brendon’s street notice the has-been rock star arriving in such a tacky excuse of four tyres and a wheel. If it is Brendon’s house, which I have my doubts about. A young man with a guitar case is coming down the street, and I wait for him to pass. It’s paranoia to fear he’d recognise me, but I never did know what to say to the fans to begin with.

Music is not about the man behind it, and therefore any interest people have in me is unwarranted. All they need to know, all they should want to know, is already there in the music. And no one ever understood that apart from me. They never –

But I don’t want to think about it anymore.

I take my bag to the door with me. It’s presumptuous, but with the final shows being local, I’m assuming Brendon is staying at home. I shouldn’t assume anything when it comes to him. I learned that the hard way.

The door opens on the fifth ring.

“Ye –”

The rest of Brendon’s sentence fades away as his eyes land on me. Brendon looks a little older, which makes me realise how overdue I am. He has a slightly off look that comes with his line of work, bags under his brown eyes. I would know how that life throws anyone off balance. But if anything, he looks more like a man, more mature. He keeps doing that to me. I don’t mind.

“Heard you’re shacking up in Chicago now,” I explain and state it like a fact I have as much interest in as the heart rate of a mouse, the melting point of silver. None at all.

“Yeah,” he nods tiredly, eyes averting, the cornered prey after an exhausting hunt where he is the deer and I am the wolf. After a long, long time, neither one of us seems to be running. Brendon doesn’t look surprised to see me. I am not a predictable man; he could at least gasp a little. The tiniest bit. Just to amuse me. I’m fucking surprised that I’m here.

“So much for being old friends,” I note and don’t give him a chance to reply. “Invite me in for a beer.”

Brendon shakes his head. “I’m busy.”

Sisky was right. He is still mad.

“I’m busy too, but here I am anyway.”

I stare him down. My stomach curls up now that I am in his presence, but he doesn’t sense it.

Brendon sighs and holds the door open, and I step into the living room, throw my bag onto the couch. Being here, travelling across the country for the one guy, the only guy who ever came out to look at the night sky with me and invent new constellations, and I – Fucking hell. I will stand my ground and act my best to convince myself that it means nothing to me. I lick my lips, remember what he tastes like.

“One beer, but then I have to go,” Brendon mutters and heads for the kitchen, and I stare after him quietly. He slows down and turns back around, a hesitating look on his face. “Are you coming to the show tonight?”

“I was counting on it.”

He looks straight at me, and I am right back there in Ottawa, outside Civic Center where we kissed next to the tour bus that I had not yet smashed. I’m in the cabin up in Bismarck where I handed him some part of me that he politely declined. I’m in San Francisco picking a fight with him, in New York watching him go through records he doesn’t plan on buying as he sneaks glances at me working behind the counter, and then we are on the backroom floor, hoping to god Eric doesn’t come early for his shift. Brendon says, “I can get you a backstage pass.”

“Could you get two? I came with this kid.”

“What kid?” His voice is tense.

“My stalker.”

He makes a disbelieving ‘tut’ with his tongue. “You sure know how to pick your friends.”

“And lovers, though he’s not one of those,” I say calculatedly.

Brendon doesn’t deny that that’s what he was asking. “I can get two.”

“Thanks.”

He points at my bag. “You staying here tonight?”

“Sure,” I shrug. He nods nervously and heads for the kitchen.

I have swerved my car onto his lane, and we have collided yet again.

Crash.

Bang.

Smoke.

[enlightenedpictures]

Leading Documentary Production Companies in Los Angeles

Introduction:

Los Angeles, renowned as the entertainment capital of the world, is home to numerous production companies that specialize in various forms of media. Among these, documentary production companies hold a significant place, contributing to the vibrant tapestry of the city's creative landscape. In this comprehensive exploration, we delve into the world of documentary filmmaking in Los Angeles, highlighting some of the leading production companies shaping the industry.

The Rise of Documentary Filmmaking in Los Angeles:

Documentary filmmaking has witnessed a remarkable surge in popularity and relevance in recent years, propelled by the growing demand for authentic storytelling and a deeper exploration of real-life issues. Los Angeles, with its rich cultural diversity, dynamic landscapes, and access to top-tier talent and resources, has emerged as a hub for documentary production. The city's vibrant atmosphere, coupled with its proximity to diverse communities and global issues, provides fertile ground for documentary filmmakers to thrive.

Key Elements of Documentary Production Companies:

Vision and Mission:

Leading documentary production companies Los Angeles are distinguished by their clear vision and mission, which often revolve around illuminating untold stories, challenging societal norms, and sparking meaningful conversations. These companies prioritize authenticity, integrity, and social impact in their filmmaking endeavors, striving to create compelling narratives that resonate with audiences on a profound level.

Creative Team:

At the heart of every successful documentary production company lies a talented and dedicated creative team comprising directors, producers, cinematographers, editors, and researchers. In Los Angeles, these teams are comprised of individuals with diverse backgrounds and experiences, bringing a multiplicity of perspectives to the filmmaking process. Collaborative and innovative, these teams work synergistically to transform ideas into captivating visual narratives.

Access to Resources:

Access to resources is crucial for the success of documentary production companies. In Los Angeles, renowned for its abundance of studios, equipment rental facilities, post-production houses, and talent agencies, these companies have access to state-of-the-art tools and technologies essential for bringing their visions to life. Moreover, strategic partnerships with funding organizations, distributors, and streaming platforms facilitate the financing and distribution of documentary projects.

Leading Documentary Production Companies in Los Angeles:

Pioneering Productions:

With a reputation for producing groundbreaking documentaries that challenge conventional wisdom and provoke thought-provoking discussions, Pioneering Productions stands at the forefront of the industry. Founded by visionary filmmaker John Doe, the company is known for its fearless approach to storytelling and commitment to amplifying marginalized voices. From gripping investigative documentaries to intimate character-driven narratives, Pioneering Productions continues to push the boundaries of documentary filmmaking.

Insight Films:

Specializing in socially relevant documentaries that shed light on pressing global issues, Insight Films is a force to be reckoned with in the world of documentary production. Led by award-winning director Jane Smith, the company's portfolio encompasses a diverse range of topics, including environmental conservation, human rights, and cultural diversity. With a keen eye for detail and a passion for storytelling, Insight Films crafts documentaries that inform, inspire, and ignite change.

Urban Lens Studios:

Dedicated to capturing the vibrant tapestry of urban life, Urban Lens Studios is synonymous with authenticity and creativity. Led by filmmaker Michael Johnson, the company has carved a niche for itself in the realm of urban documentary filmmaking, offering a nuanced portrayal of city life and its inhabitants. From gritty street scenes to uplifting tales of resilience, Urban Lens Studios celebrates the diversity and complexity of urban environments, offering viewers a glimpse into the heart and soul of the city.

Spectrum Media:

Combining cutting-edge technology with a profound understanding of human experiences, Spectrum Media produces documentaries that resonate with audiences on a visceral level. Helmed by director Sarah Lee, the company is known for its visually stunning cinematography and emotionally resonant storytelling. Whether exploring the depths of the ocean or the inner workings of the human mind, Spectrum Media pushes the boundaries of documentary filmmaking, delivering immersive experiences that leave a lasting impression.

Conclusion:

In conclusion, documentary production companies in Los Angeles play a vital role in shaping the landscape of contemporary filmmaking, offering audiences a diverse array of compelling narratives that inform, inspire, and provoke reflection. With their unwavering commitment to authenticity, creativity, and social impact, these companies continue to push the boundaries of storytelling, amplifying marginalized voices and shedding light on pressing global issues. As the demand for thought-provoking documentaries continues to grow, Los Angeles remains at the epicenter of this cultural renaissance, fostering innovation, collaboration, and artistic excellence in the realm of documentary filmmaking.

[arentalconnection]

Looking for the best film lighting rental in Los Angeles? Look no further than Arental Connection! We offer a wide range of professional lighting equipment for film and photography, including LED lights, grip gear, and more. Contact us today to learn more about our rental options and competitive pricing.

Call us at (805) 876-0020

[cistudios]

C-istudios.com offers a wide variety of equipment rental services, including camera rentals, lighting rentals, grip rentals, etc. We offer the best gear for the most affordable prices in the Los Angeles area. Visit our website for more details.

Gear rental los angeles

[birnsandsawyerinc-blog]

Purpose of lighting and Grip in Los Angeles film set

The blockbuster movies that you watch every once a month are the work of an entire crew. The cinematographers are not just relying on one particular department but a number of them. There is a team of electricians, lighting technicians, and grips. What we will discuss here is the purpose of each and every department. If you are wondering where to buy lighting and Grip in Los Angeles, then keep reading, we will reveal the answer soon.

The electrical department

One of the most important department in any film set is the electrical department. They look after each and every electrical need. This includes everything from the coffee machine to check the powering set of lights.

The Gaffer

Do you know what the head of the electrical department is called? Well, they are known as gaffers. In other words the chief lighting technician. They are the ones who take responsibility for the lighting plan. They work very closely with the photography team to help them take the perfect shot. They are the one who also looks after lights and the Key grip.

In order to buy the best lighting and grip in Los Angeles, because now you know how important they are, purchase only from birnsandsawyer.com. You will see a plethora of lighting and grip equipment there.

The grip department

This department basically looks after all the non-electrical items available on the set. They basically help in setting up the gear for tripods, camera, cranes, bounces, and flagging. They are specialized lighting and camera technician. They are the one responsible for making adjustments as per the requirements. Taking care of camera movements and also focusing on lights is part of their routine.

You will also see the Key Grip who works very closely with the director of photography. They are basically the chief of the Grip department. They make sure to provide light according to the set’s requirement. So, whether to increase it or to decrease is something looked after by the Key Grip.

The lighting department

This department is not only responsible for the lighting adjustment in the sets but also looks after everything which needs a power supply.

So these are the key departments that you will see in a film set. Buying the right kind of lighting and grips is essential. So, if you happen to look for lighting and grip in Los Angeles, then remember Brinsandsawyer.com.

[guttermastersofnewengland]

Transform Filmmaking Vision in Balancing with Investment

The filmmaker is in control of big-budget movie production. It is the filmmaker’s job to produce his/her vision of the script - promptly and on budget. With his service is a team of film production specialists as the AD team, Line Producer, Unit Production Manager, Production Accountant, etc. all there to help out the filmmakers to do just that. Filmmakers make it their business to comprehend the basic tasks of on-set filmmaking, without being capable of completely lighting a set, or operate a crane, or focusing on a Steadicam, they could ask for further assistance with Grip Truck Rentals Los Angeles to run the production in a smoother way. In the same character, the filmmaker must understand the essentials of Budgeting and the tremendously vital weekly cost report procedure.

Every creative choice entails money. It's just good sense to learn to interpret artistic ideas into costs. Experienced filmmakers know of the weekly cost report. If you're not yet acquainted with it, let me introduce it to you; the Weekly Cost Report constitutes all Producers, Studio Executives as well as Financiers of the expenditure you're expending along with how those costs weigh against the agreed Budget. If you are unable to test or defend, the verdicts made by those who go through that financial 'Report Card' that is, your ability to control your career is considerably destabilized. Discover a comfort level anywhere you can, at the very least, be familiar with what to ask all through the budgeting phase, and have a superior understanding of how you can exchange one cost overrun for cost savings in another area. Know how to put together with general concepts of trading off expenditure to arrive at your vision. While shooting a film you must take everything into account; also with Lighting Rental LA expenses to take care of your production.

The production is supported by the producer as well as any assistants, Art which incorporates the artists, sets, Make-up, props, make-up and costumes, Camera which is who is shooting the scene by the camera, Sound as well as Lighting, which is where your Lighting Truck Rental technicians come in to supply all key rudiments of high standard lighting supplies all production-ready on industry standard. Yours possibly will have more departments tan above list; however that is the basic set up. If you know anybody in the industry that has some type of understanding in filming, shooting, editing, or anything like that, see if you can get their help. If you just starting out you probably won’t discern anyone like that, but it’s always a superior idea, and ask your friends if they achieve. Perhaps they did a little project a short time back you didn't know on the subject of, or prior to you met them. Feel free to ask. The filmmaking business is all about making a successful film on your vision and collaboration of many services is a must.

[cheri-translates]

[CN] Gavin’s Wind and Waves Date

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a date, 风浪之约, which has not been released in EN! 🍒

[ This date was released on 3 June 2021 ]

An early summer breeze causes the papers on the desk to flutter. After doing a stretch, I pick up my phone, realising that it’s already late at night, past 11pm.

Tapping open my messages out of habit, I see that the newest message is a reply from Gavin in the afternoon -

Gavin: Let me know when you’re done with work.

Staring at the chat, I release a long sigh.

Recent overtime work has left me slightly overwhelmed. Because of this, I had no choice but to reject several dates with Gavin.

Thinking about this, I type a response hastily.

MC: I’m getting ready to knock off. Did you have a busy day?

After pressing the “send” button, I stuff my phone into my pocket quickly, turn off the laptop, and carry my bag.

Before I leave, I turn off the single remaining light in the company.

My phone remains silent even after I step into the elevator. Looks like Gavin’s already asleep.

Half-leaning against the wall of the elevator, I massage my slightly sore shoulders.

Fortunately, the remaining work has entered the final phase smoothly. Once this is over, I’ll make up for all the missed dates.

With a “ding”, the elevator doors open slowly. When I lift my head, I see a familiar figure. He’s also the person I’ve been wanting to see most during this period of time...

MC: Gavin?!

I walk towards him in disbelief. He reaches out, pulling me into his arms.

A familiar scent encases me tightly. I subconsciously relax, leaning on him wilfully.

MC: Gavin, why did you come?

Gavin: I missed you.

These words float into my ears slowly, then descend heavily into my heart.

Faced with Gavin’s absolutely unconcealed longing, I laugh contentedly, hugging him tightly and forcefully.

Gavin: Do you still have to work overtime after this?

I lift my head from his chest region, shaking my head with a smile.

MC: There are still a few things to settle, but they aren't as urgent. If things go smoothly, I’ll be able to fulfil the dates I owe you either tomorrow or the day after. Let me properly “make up” for them.

Once I finish speaking, Gavin’s brows arch gently.

Gavin: How do you plan to make up for it?

MC: Ooh... I’ve been flaking on you several times. So when the time comes, I’ll satisfy you no matter what you want!

Suddenly, a soft chuckle is at my ear. 

Before I can react, Gavin has already interlaced our fingers tightly, bending his knees slightly as he lifts up the travelling bag on the ground.

Gavin: Let’s go then.

When I see the travelling bag that I didn't notice earlier, I’m both shocked and confused.

MC: Hang on. Where are we going?

He turns his head over, lifting his sculpted chin.

Gavin: Didn’t you say you’d satisfy me no matter what I want to do? In that case, the rest of the time will belong to me. 

MC: But I was referring to after the program is done...

Gavin: I don’t want to wait a moment more.

Gavin doesn’t wait for me to finish, tightening his grip on my hand and pulling me over. My body tilts along with the inertia, drawing me closer to him.

My silhouette fills that pair of amber eyes, turning all the more clear and bright.

In this moment, I forget about the fatigue from work, and my entire heart is filled only with the person before me.

-

Originally thinking Gavin was simply taking me on a stroll, I didn’t expect that we’d be sitting in a train which is about to set off.

Scanning my surroundings, it seems that it’s currently the off-season for travelling. Gavin and I are the only two in the soft sleeper compartment.

Seeing the luggage Gavin brought, something occurs to me. I stare at him, stumped for words.

Gavin: What’s wrong?

He seems to sense my gaze, turning his head and meeting my line of sight.

MC: Gavin, you planned this way beforehand! The train tickets and luggage were prepared really comprehensively!

Gavin: Traveling requires adequate preparation, doesn’t it?

Gavin seems to deliberately avoid my unspoken implication.

MC: But this surprise attack of yours makes me feel completely unprepared...

Gavin: Isn’t such a “surprise attack” good? You've done it a few times before. Now, it’s my turn.

Wind whistles outside the window, pulling the hidden thoughts in his words to my mind.

I subconsciously recall how I deceived Gavin into coming to the airport and heading to Los Angeles on his birthday.

MC: O-of course it’s good. I like it very much. But that’s not how you were supposed to use the spare key to my house...!

I lower my eyes, grumbling softly.

Gavin: How was I supposed to use it then?

His expression of “earnestly seeking knowledge” seems to be teasing at something gently, and the temperature of my cheeks rises instantly.

I pick up the travelling bag and place it on my lap, face flushed as I change the subject.

MC: ...let me take a look at what you prepared.

I unzip the bag and gently rummage through the objects inside, unable to bear messing up the luggage he had worked hard to pack.

After looking through it for a while, I realise that Gavin was especially conscientious in his preparation.

The clothes I often wear have been stacked into a pile, and the snacks I enjoy eating have been placed in a separate corner.

I can’t help but imagine Gavin shuttling back and forth alone at home -

Him being at a loss as he stands in front of the packed closet. Him being confused as he faces dozens of makeup bottles and skincare products.

His shuttling figure seems to morph into a sense of security filling my heart continuously. The corners of my mouth lift upwards uninhibitedly.

When I touch a hard, square-shaped object, I take it out in curiosity.

My notebook laptop is currently lying in my hand. I lift my head stiffly, blinking at Gavin slowly.

Even before I can speak, he explains.

Gavin: With it, you can handle unexpected situations that crop up at work.

I nod silently, flipping open the notebook laptop subconsciously.

MC: That’s fine. I’ll settle some work then. Do you want to rest for a while?

Right after saying this, Gavin takes the laptop away, placing it into the travelling bag.

Gavin: You’ve been working non-stop. It’s time to take a break.

MC: Don’t worry, I won’t take long~

While saying this, I reach for the laptop. In the end, he shields the travelling bag behind him.

Gavin: I didn’t bring the laptop just to let it replace me. It can only be used when faced with unexpected situations.

Gavin’s dead serious expression gives me the impulse to tease him.

MC: If you don’t give it to me, I’ll have to snatch it!

Just as I stand up, the train suddenly jolts, and the floor beneath my feet rocks sharply.

I instinctively lift my arms to maintain my balance. Unexpectedly, Gavin grabs my hands, and my body leans backwards from the inertia -

By the time I regain my senses, I lift my head from atop his chest, blinking in a dazed manner.

He stares at me, a teasing smile on his lips.

Gavin: How do you plan to snatch it?

MC: I... I’ll snatch it by force, of course.

Right after saying this, he imprisons me tightly with both arms, as though wanting to put an end to my idea of snatching it by force.

Gavin: What about now? How are you going to snatch it?

Not knowing what to do, I can only blush while struggling in a perfunctory manner.

MC: I...

Gavin: If you don’t plan to give up, I won’t let go.

MC: Fine, I promise. Unless it’s really necessary, I won’t work!

A soft laugh burrows into my ear. He releases his grip slightly, but keeps me in his arms gently.

In the next second, the train finally leaves the tunnel, and starlight from outside the window enters my vision.

MC: Gavin, there are so many stars outside!

Following my words, he looks out of the window.

The starlight and night scene outside the window seem to soften Gavin’s sculpted features. He suddenly chuckles.

Gavin: I actually wanted to take you to see the stars in the planetarium a while back. In the end... you had to work overtime. The weather was great last week, and it was very suitable for taking a stroll in the park. But there was an accident at the filming site, and you were called away at short notice. 

Softly, Gavin talks about the countless dates we missed because of work over the past half month.

MC: Gavin...

Feeling a little guilty, I have no idea what to say.

Gavin turns his head to look at me directly, his eyes brimming with a smile.

Gavin: And then, I suddenly understood. If I were to keep waiting without an end, I wouldn’t know how long I’d have to wait. So I should simply take you away at an appropriate time. Just like the many times before.

-

After disembarking from the train, we sit in the rental car Gavin arranged for in advance, and we begin our long car ride.

When the car makes a turn, what enters my vision is a large patch of blue.

The faraway waves roll onto the fair and clear beach in layers, reflecting sunlight and emitting dazzling rays of light.

Pleasantly surprised, I turn my head, meeting Gavin’s eyes.

MC: Why did you think of bringing me to the seaside?

Gavin: You’ve been staying in the office during this period of time. So I’m taking you to a more open place.

Gavin: But there are many places I want to take you to. This is only one of them.

His voice is akin to a wave, rushing into my heart and creating ripples of tingly sweetness.

-

Very soon, the car halts at the seaside. Gavin leaves some instructions with the driver, and the latter sends our luggage to the hotel first.

Gavin and I walk along the beach leisurely. When a sailboat leaning against the harbour appears before us, he finally stops. 

Gavin: We’re here.

MC: Are we going out to sea?

Gavin: Mm. I’m taking you on a “stroll” on the sea.

It seems he has already rented the boat in advance. After exchanging a few words with the person managing the sailboat, he supports me onto it.

The sailboat isn’t large in size, and I’m able to see it completely with a sweeping glance. The areas we can sit in are the two sides of the boat and a narrow deck.

The sailboat sways along with the waves, and I hold onto the railing as I sit down carefully.

Gavin: Sit tight.

With light-hearted steps, he walks to the end of the boat and starts the motor, both hands holding the steering wheel as the boat gradually leaves the harbour.

After that, he grips the rope tightly to raise the main sail, sunlight pouring onto his frame, outlining his edges.

When the main sail is raised up high, he shuts off the motor, and the boat is propelled forward with the help of the wind.

Seeing this series of practised movements, I exclaim in admiration.

MC: Gavin, if you were to participate in a sailing competition, would this be considered "cheating”? After all, you need to know the direction of the wind at all times to sail properly.

Gavin ponders on my question seriously for a second before giving me an answer.

Gavin: Yes. But even if I don’t use the ability of wind, I’m still more sensitive to wind than ordinary people.

He says such “enviable” words with ease while continuing to work on the rope in his hands.

All of a sudden, a gust of strong wind comes from the right. The left side of the boat tilts downwards fiercely, almost sticking to the surface of the water.

MC: Will the boat overturn?!

I grab onto the railing firmly, looking at Gavin with slight worry.

Gavin: Of course not.

Gavin continues operating the steering wheel, a fearless expression on his face.

Gavin: Although I can make the wind stop, that would reduce the fun of sailing in the first place. Trust me. I won’t let you fall off.

A proud smile appears on Gavin’s face. The corners of his shirt are blown up wildly by the wind as he stands steadily on the boat.

After that, he stretches out his hand towards me. Immediately understanding his intention, I grip his hand without any hesitance. 

He pulls me behind him, wrapping my arms around his waist. 

Gavin: Don’t let go. Hold tight.

Just as another fierce gale arrives, he tugs on the rope, causing the sail to change directions deftly.

Very quickly, our sailboat is akin to a drifting racing car, continuously changing directions in his hand, and accelerating in movement. 

We allow ourselves to get swept along with the wind and waves, continuing to move headwind.

Without realising it, my initially anxious emotions have turned more and more excited.

MC: Gavin, let’s go!

He doesn’t speak, but the boat beneath his feet speeds up, as though using his actions to respond to me.

Gradually, the whistling at my ears disappears, and the waves grow peaceful.

Small ocean sprays lap the boat gently, as though telling us that our “surfing” experience has come to a temporary end.

I hurriedly pull on Gavin as we sit on the deck, and I massage his palms gently.

MC: Tired?

Gavin: Nope. What about you?

MC: I’m doing okay, just that my legs are a little wobbly from being nervous.

While saying this, I lean on Gavin’s shoulder, relaxing completely.

All of a sudden, a force pushes me gently on the shoulder. My body slides down slowly, and I find myself lying on Gavin’s lap.

Startled, I look at Gavin above me. With a pad of his finger, he pushes away strands of hair from my face.

Gavin: Lie down and rest for a while. I’ll make the wind a little quieter.

-

When I open my eyes again, what I can see is the azure sky and Gavin, who is resting with his eyes closed.

I can’t bear to disrupt such a beautiful image, so I simply purse my lips into a smile in secret.

Suddenly, Gavin’s eyelashes quiver, and he opens his eyes to look at me.

Gavin: What are you smiling at?

I realise that he might have noticed my peeping since early on, but simply allowed me to observe without making a sound.

With this thought in mind, the temperature of my cheeks involuntarily grow hot.

MC: I... I was smiling because the sun is really warm, and my fatigue seems to be swept away completely!

The deck reflects a dazzling light from the sun. Struck with an idea, I shift away from Gavin’s lap, then pat the deck.

MC: You must be really tired from sitting for such a long time. Let’s lie down and bask in the sun together!

I tug on Gavin gently, getting him to lie down beside me.

Perhaps due to the narrowness of the deck, we’re pressed together tightly.

Gavin: Is it a little cramped?

I shake my head quickly, afraid that he’d sit up to make space.

MC: It isn’t cramped at all. It’s just nice!

Gavin might have guessed my intentions. He stirs slightly, lying down sideways and facing me.

Gavin: Lying down like this will be a little better.

I heave a secret sigh of relief. Mimicking Gavin’s actions, I face him while lying down too.

MC: Even though it’s no longer cramped like this, we can’t see the sky in this position.

Gavin chuckles, embracing me gently.

Gavin: I just want to look at you. Other things aren’t as important.

All of a sudden, a shadow hangs above our heads, and sunlight gradually vanishes.

Puzzled, I turn my head towards the sky, only to realise that a thick cloud has completely covered the sun.

MC: The wonderful big sun has been blocked.

Despite the complaints from my mouth, my smile doesn’t leave.

Being with Gavin like this makes nothing worth regretting no matter what it is.

Gavin: In that case, I’ll make it leave temporarily.

Gavin straightens up, and a gentle gust of wind brushes my face.

The sailboat sways, as though sensing this force in the air. The waves sweep up, lapping the sides of the boat gently.

Even that cloud in the sky seems to float forward slowly with Gavin’s wind.

Gradually, rays of fine sunlight pass through the remaining tail of the cloud.

Sunlight pours over Gavin, leaving a pale shadow, making his facial features even clearer.

He lifts his chin, letting the wind sweep his hair into a nice-looking mess.

When the cloud has completely let the sun go, Gavin shoots me a smile.

Gavin: We can continue basking in the sun now.

After saying this, he lays back down on the deck, pulling me into his arms.

He closes his eyes, and all that’s left is the soft sound of his breathing. I can’t help but lift my chin, sticking to his ear carefully.

MC: You’ve worked hard over the past two days to prepare so many things. Is there anything I can do for you?

He opens his amber eyes slowly, the corners of his lips turning upwards in indistinct arcs.

Gavin: You don’t have to do anything. Just lay with me for a while.

With this, he tightens his grip, caging me in his arms.

I don’t insist further, laying by Gavin’s side obediently.

Seeing Gavin before me, I suddenly feel that this moment is so beautiful that it doesn’t seem real.

Last night, I was working overtime in the office. Today, I’m lying atop a boundless stretch of ocean.

Most importantly, the person I’ve been missing most is within reach.

I hug him fondly, tightening my grip.

MC: Gavin, thank you for bringing me here. Even though I still have some relatively unimportant matters waiting for me to handle, I think I really needed a break. Working overtime without an end can make one’s mind turn increasingly stale. If you hadn’t pulled me out from the endless loop, I might have been working inefficiently for a very long time.

Gavin listens as I reveal my thoughts bit by bit. His expression seems to become even more relaxed.

Gavin: Got it. When such a situation happens again, I’ll drag you away like this.

A breeze lifts up my hair quietly, as though agreeing with Gavin.

Even though I can’t hide the smile on my lips, I deliberately pinch his palm.

MC: Even so, you have to tell me in advance next time!

A teasing glint flashes across Gavin’s eyes, and he closes them.

Gavin: We’ll talk about it again when the time comes. I don’t want you to sink into that condition again.

He speaks indolently, but a resolute tone is in his words.

MC: Got it. I’ll take note of my working hours, and will definitely not overexert myself!

Gavin doesn't respond, but the smile on his lips is a clear indication.

Suddenly, a strong wind charges over fiercely, causing the main sail to rustle.

MC: Gavin, the wind seems to be getting stronger again! Will anything happen if our boat remains still like this? 

Gavin closes his eyes without a care, holding me tightly.

Gavin: Nothing will happen. Let me hug you for a little longer. We’ll set off later.

His voice gradually dissipates along with the waves, leaving behind a breeze that leaves one reluctant to part with.

🚤 Call and Moments: here

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[unabashegirl]

“What are you doing up?”

Author’s note: How is this man REAL? I still don’t understand how God could have ever created someone so beautiful... 

Anyway, I hope you enjoy it! 

SEND YOUR REQUESTS!

masterlist

--- 

WORD COUNT: 3.8K 

italics are flashbacks!

The warm-toned colors of sunrise filtered through the tall, windows leading out to the balcony. The reflection of the sun against the ocean illuminated their quiet bedroom. They had forgotten to shut the blinds and pull down the blackout of the room. Hence, why Y/N’s face was completely exposed to the soft afternoon light. Consequently, waking her up from her slumber.

Y/N’s eyes fluttered open as she processed her surroundings and woke the rest of her body. She covered her mouth as she yawned and stretched out her back and limps. She rolled over, facing upwards as her hands pushed her hair out of the way. She admired the beautiful and probably very expensive chandelier that hung from the ceiling. She hasn't noticed it before, but how could she? The last forty-eight hours had been hectic and all over the place but incredibly dreamy.

She was still flushed when she had arrived home that afternoon. Her hair was still slightly damp even though her work out had ended forty minutes ago. She had stopped for groceries because her boyfriend was coming back from an extensive work trip. Y/N had planned to cook his favorite meal and cozy up on the couch while he reminisced about the trip. Her plan was short-lived when she opened the door of her apartment and found him waiting for her by the entrance.

She immediately dropped the bags by the entrance and threw her body on his. Her arms instinctively wrapped around his neck, not even flinching at the loud sound of her sunglasses hitting the hardwood floor.

”yeh miss me, lovey?” Harry’s big smile splattered on his face, the same smile that she has always praised and adored since the very first day. She squeezed his cheeks while peppering kisses all over his face after a long waited passionate kiss.

”This is ticklish” Y/N referred to the stubble that he had grown since he had felt. ”How do you manage to make everything attractive?” She mumbles as Harry stares down at her with adoration.

”I could ask you the same, love” His own hands running down the sides of her tight workout clothes. ”I’ve missed you so much”  He had grown accustomed to sleeping next to her; touring and sleeping in different hotel rooms on his own — had become a challenge. He hated it, but he loved it too. He loved that he had become so attached to her that he missed her presence. He didn't have to touch her. Harry missed the faint smell of her Chanel perfume scattered on the pillows and comforter. He just liked knowing that was beside him and close by.  It brought him serenity.

“Me too” On the other hand, she had missed hearing him hum and sing in the shower. She had missed waking up to him in the kitchen, making fresh coffee, in a white towel, barefoot with wet hair. ”Are you hungry?” Y/N asked remembering the whole reason why she hadn't been home earlier. She pulled away to go pick up the bags by the entrance.

”I am” Harry stands back and watches her bent down, taking his time to admire her body and appearance. ”Have you been doing squats or something?” he bluntly asks after noticing her bottom looked rounder than last time. Y/N giggled and shook her head before standing straight back up.

”Nothing gets past you, does it?”

”at least nothing that has to do with you” He took the bags from her before she could take any further steps. ”you didn't answer my question” Harry yelled back from the kitchen while she locked the front door.

”I am. Just wanted it to be nicer” She shrugged as she walked into the kitchen and found him taking the groceries out of the bags. She also had read a few comments on an Instagram profile that posted about celebrity couples. They picked her apart and criticized every single inch of her body. She had felt pretty shitty for a few days, but she would never tell Harry. After all, she knew that she wasn’t supposed to be reading comments. Harry had always warned her.

”Trust me. It was already nice,” he added. There he was again, uplifting her and making her feel flawless. It has been two years since they met at an event in Los Angeles through mutual friends and she still didn't get used to cheeky yet sweet comments.

”How was LA?” The night they met, Y/N had just gone for a drink after being pressured by her friend. It was a party at a small intimate bar with a bunch of celebrities. To this day, she still doesn't know what the party was celebrating.

”It was fine. I saw a few of our friends. They asked about you” As a matter of fact, they seemed slightly disappointed that she wasn’t accompanying him. His friends preferred her, but he didn’t care. He also preferred her. Harry was the first to approach the night they first met. After seeing her standing by the bar looking lonely. One of his terrible jokes was enough to break the ice and cause her to smile.

”I guess I'll have to visit more often” She liked traveling with Harry, but the tour was just around the corner. Therefore, she needed to straighten everything out before departing. “I was thinking of making your favorite meal” Harry looked up to her, biting his lips with a slight frown. ”What?”.

”Change of plans. You are going to go upstairs and pack a bag” He ordered her as he rested his elbows on the kitchen counter. Then it was Y/N’s turn to frown.

”A bag? For what? What do I pack? Where are we going? You just got here,” She bombarded him with questions. Harry very mischievously, shrugged then leaned over to grab one of the fresh bananas that she had just bought.

”Can’t tell you, lovey. Just go change and pack” He had it all planned. He had started to come up with it before he left for America. He had to move a lot of pieces around for it to work without drawing any suspicion to his master plan. His trip to LA had given him more time to work on the minor details without being questioned.

”What should I pack?” She was surprised at the abrupt change of plans, but Harry never disappointed. Therefore, she trusted him and would comply.

”Your everyday clothes and bathing suits, maybe a dress” His bag was already packed; his assistant had made sure of it. He usually packed his clothes, but because of the short time frame that they had, they didn't want to take any risks. ”do I have to carry yeh?” Harry asked since she still hadn't moved.

”No!” She giggled as he took a warning step towards her. ”I’ll be right back” Harry smiled after her, while she packed he took the time to make himself something quick to eat since he was starving.

Harry was surprisingly still sleeping.  His lips slightly parted as soft snores escaped his mouth now and then. His tattooed arm hung over her waist. His head tucked in the back of her neck, his tattooed chest pressed against her back, radiating heat like an oven. It explained the reason why she only wore underwear to sleep. At some point in their relationship, she had started waking up with a thin layer of sweat covering her body. It was Harry who had suggested her change of sleeping attire after he refused to stop cuddling her.

Y/N gently took his arm off her body making sure she didn’t disrupt his sleep. Along with the tour, press, interviews, and shows came his anxiety and sleep deprivation. He always managed to hide it, but she knew that he struggled. Therefore, the fact that she had woken up before him was a pleasant surprise and that she wasn’t willing to ruin.

She was quick to observe that she could do some minutes under the sun as she stood before the bathroom’s mirror. Y/N twisted her body sideways just to get a better look at her physique. Harry’s fingers mark printed all over her thighs, as well as the scattered hickeys on her chest, were a reminder of their night. She reached back and grabbed a bathrobe off the hook to hide her nakedness.

“Are you excited?” He asked her as he opened the trunk of the rental car that they would use for the entire trip. He still had a few surprises under his sleeve, he was just waiting for the right time to reveal the rest.

On the other hand, Y/N couldn’t stop smiling, her cheeks had started hurting minutes after he had revealed the destination of their spontaneous trip.

“Are you kidding?” She squeaked as she watched his muscles tense up under the shirt that he had opted to wear. Harry chuckled as he strategically placed her suitcase first in the trunk. He had rented out a convertible which he sort of regretted now, due to the lack of space. “What brought this on?”.

“I just thought it would be nice. We haven’t spent as much time as I would’ve liked to” He added a shrug as he took his duffle bag from her and squeezing it in before shutting it close. “My work has gotten in the way of many things” She instantly knew what specific occasion he was referring too. Harry had missed her master’s graduation in child psychology a few weeks ago. Her mom had Facetimed him when her name was called and he had seen her disappointment throughout the rest of the night. He had tried his best to catch a flight to make it in time, but his work commitments had gotten in the way.

“Harry Edward Styles” Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck as he leaned against the side of the car. She gently gripped his jaw, forcing his sight on hers. “Stop beating yourself over it” Sure, she had felt lonely that night without him by her side, but she could never blame him. “I love every single bit of you and everything that comes along. Including your work because that means I get to hear and watch you do what you love the most” The corners of his lips curved upwards, revealing his dimples. She kissed them gently after her eyes drifted down to them.

“I love you the most” Harry whispered with his eyes slightly hooded, enamored by the words that had just come out of her enticing mouth.  He gave her a quick yet breathless kiss just in case reporters were watching them.

It was the perfect day in Italy. The sun shone brightly, high in the sky. There were no clouds threatening the day with any signs of rain. The streets were crowded with tourists and locals.  At first, Harry resisted the urge to pull the top of the car down since they were still in the center of Rome. The last thing he wanted was to get recognized and mobbed on his Italian vacation with the love of his life. He had made arrangements for his most trusted bodyguard to travel with them. Harry wanted to keep everything as intimate as possible. He had done it before when he had traveled to Jamaica and Japan. Therefore why couldn't he do it again this time around — he wondered.

“Where are we going?” Y/N asked as she noticed that the scenery had changed and it seemed more rural. Harry winked at her at night before pushing on the gas. “We aren’t staying in Rome, are we?”.

“Of course not” He kept a smirk on his face as he pulled the top of the car off as soon as they were out of the city.

She couldn’t help but stare at the gorgeous and sweet man that she had grown to love unconditionally. His silky, dark brown hair like grass in the wind. She could stare for hours his chiseled face. His prominent and clenched jawline seemed to be sculped by Greek gods. The slight stubble that he had grown on his chin and upper lip gave him a more carefree and relaxed complexion. She left slightly disappointed that his gorgeous eyes were blocked by his classic, Gucci sunglasses.

“Yeh staring again, darlin” His rough voice, didn’t stop her from admiring him. She unbuckled herself from her seat then leaned in and planted a kiss against his tan skin. “I love you” Harry momentarily looked over at her before looking back at the road.

“Goodmorning” Y/N whispered as she opened the door wider for the hotel employer to bring the room service that she had ordered only minutes ago.

“Good morning, Ms. Y/L/N” He smiled at the young woman before rolling in the table, filled with different breakfast foods and drinks. “Is here alright? Or would you like by the balcony?”.  He suggested knowing that tourists loved having their first meal of the day with the view.

“The balcony sounds lovely — if it’s not too much to ask” She felt slightly guilty to make him set up outside.

“It would be my pleasure” Y/N quickly walked behind him as he pushed the car pass the entrance hall and living room of their hotel room. He kept his head up making sure not to knock anything or the floor or make a mess. He stopped right by the entrance to the balcony and carefully stared setting up the table. The young man had obviously heard that Harry Styles and his girlfriend were staying on the top floor. He hadn’t played too much attention to it like the rest of his work colleagues. If Harry Styles was in fact staying with them was because he wanted privacy, peace, and quiet— away from the spotlight and the fans. He was not going to mess it up. For this particular reason,  he was picked out of the bunch to bring their breakfast when his girlfriend had called. “You are all set up Ms. Y/L/N”.  

“Thank you…” Y/N looked down as his name tag then gave him a big smile, “...Luca’

“buon appetito” He smiled back as he started walking his way back to the entrance.

“Luca, what’s the best thing to do around here besides going to the beach?” They had wanted to do something out of the ordinary. The town where they were staying was pretty small which meant they could easily walk the streets and actually get to experience the Italian culture.

“You can visit the gardens,” He said after a few minutes of thinking. “Do you like cooking?” Y/N instantly perked up, nodding with a big smile. “Then you can take a cooking class. I could set it up for you, just give us a call downstairs and I’ll take care of it”.

“That sounds lovely. Thank you Luca” Y/N made sure to tip him before he left her alone in the hotel room. She sat outside, wrapped in the bathrobe, holding a fresh cup of coffee to her lips while staring out into the Almifi coast. Everything looked just as beautiful as last night.

“Are you ready?” Harry asked as he walked to the small balcony that they had in their bedroom. They had arrived four hours ago to their final destination. They had immediately changed into bathing suits and made use of their private pool. They ditched the pool as they started noticing the commence of the sunset. The couple decided to take on the streets of the small town for dinner. Ravello is a small town off the Almafi Coast. It is a hidden treasure with one of the best views of the ocean. It was perfect for their stay.

“Like twenty minutes ago” She wore a short, silky, olive dress with a pair of white sneakers — too lazy to walk on heels through the rocky, inclined streets of Revello. The thin straps of her dress weren’t wide enough to hide the slight tan lines that she had to manage to obtain with only a few hours under the sun. Harry loved seeing tan lines on her delicate skin. He hated it when she refused to get them by untying the back of her bikini. The olive tone of her dress made her skin more tempting.

“I am starving” he pouted as she intertwined their fingers.

“What are you craving?” They had to make a tough choice to make —both being lovers of Italian cuisine.

“Everything” He chuckled as they walked out of their suite. “I am thinking pasta”.

“I don’t know. Pizza sounds so good” Harry groans at the through of an authentic slice of Italian pizza.

“I hope you know that we are sharing tonight. I am having some of your pizza”.

“Absolutely not,” Y/N said as they got on the elevator.

“Yeh are such a meanie” Harry pouted once again before the doors close.

-

“Fuck I am stuffed” Harry exhales as he leans back on his seat. Y/N giggled as she tried to digest all the food that they had just stuffed their faces with. “But it was so worth it” He beams after wiping the corners of his mouth with the napkin. The night had gone according to plan. They had talked for hours as if they didn’t know one another. No one had recognized him except for the waiter who was a bit starstruck, but either way, respected their privacy.

“I think you are going to have to carry me back” She reached down and patted the small tummy that she had developed in the course of dinner. Her dress felt tight against her skin. She was sure that one more bite of food would tear her dress apart. Harry laughed softly at her cute tummy.

“Let’s go for a walk. It might help us” He was tempted to unbutton his high waisted pants. He was first on his feet, then reached out for her.

“That was delicious. Thank you, baby” She kissed him as they made their way down the street towards their hotel. She couldn’t wait to fall asleep by the sound of the waves crashing by the shore. It was all so soothing. Harry wrapped his arm over her shoulders as they made their way through the town square.

“There is something I would like us to talk about” Harry confessed as they came across the entrance to the public beach.  “Should we walk on the beach?” As her mind wondered what he could possibly be wanting to talk about, Harry kneeled down and helped take her sneakers off after his shoes.

The sand was still slightly warm from the day. They walked right by the water, close enough to slightly wet their feet, but far enough not get bite by anything in the darkness. There was always something very eerie of the never-ending darkness of the ocean. It seemed scary yet mysterious.

“Are you breaking up with me?” Y/N blurted out as she stopped walking after a few minutes of complete quietness. She could sense something was bothering him. Harry unwrapped himself away from her and faced her. Momentarily making her scared that he was actually ending things. 

“How could you possibly think that?” He frowned, “Do you remember that night in Japan?” It took her a few minutes to finally figure out what particular night he was talking about. He had gone to Japan two months ago to finish off a song. She had stayed in England after getting a ridiculous virus from a coworker.

“Yeah— what about it?” Harry exhaled as he thought of that night.

“You stayed up with me. You had a high fever” He had been stuck in the studio for hours and had decided to Facetime her. He had started to feel the pressure of writing an impeccable album for the fans. Harry felt like he was cracking under pressure. According to him, all the music was starting to sound like shit. He wanted to check on her, but also get distracted. 

“Well yeah. You needed me. You weren’t feeling well” She shrugged as if it was no big deal. He smiled widely at her, shaking his head at her obliviousness. “I don’t get it” Y/N giggled pulling at her bottom lip with her head slightly tilted to the side. 

“You still don’t see it!” He exhaled, running his hands through his hair. “You were the one sick and you are so selfless that you stayed up with me just because I wasn’t feeling like emotionally well. Even though you were the one with a fever” He sighted trying to gather all his thoughts at once. “Everything with you, it’s so easy. I miss you all the time. I hate leaving you alone and I especially hate that you still haven’t moved in with me. I’ve also never been such a jealous man as I am now. I can’t stand the thought of someone else holding you, looking at you, let alone kissing you,” He looked up at her trying to decipher her emotions. “You never hung up that night after you fell asleep. I stayed with you on the phone. That was the night that I realized that what I have with you, I don’t want it with anyone else” His hand reached back and pulled the small box from his pocket. He kneeled down before she could say or have any sort of reaction to his proposal. “Would you marry me, lovey?”.

--

“What are you doing up?” Harry’s raspy voice, almost causes her to spill the cup of hot coffee over her white bathrobe. He leaned over her and gave her a minty fresh kiss. “I woke up and you weren’t there” He added after sitting across from her.

“I thought you would like to wake up to some breakfast” Harry smiled as he uncovered his plate of freshly made food. She had of course ordered his favorite.

“What with the Italian sun on you, that makes you so irresistible?” Harry asked as he spreads jelly on his toasts. It was his turn to gawk at her. She hadn’t properly tied her bathtub around. Therefore it was slipping off one of her shoulders, showing him the collarbones that he loved kissing. Her lips were slightly swollen and a few freckles had appeared from the sunbathing session from yesterday.

“Stop” She laughed as she placed her coffee mug on the table. Harry took a few bites off his toast before taking a sip out of his tea with a constant smug smile.

“Last night when you were ridding me, only wearing the ring  — it was a sight to behold” He added knowing exactly how to make her blush.

“Harry!” Y/N exclaimed as she covered her flushed face with her hands. Harry erupted into heavy laughter as he stared at the woman that he would soon be marrying with love from across the table.

----

HOPE YOU LIKED IT!

[griptruckrentalslosangeles]

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[light-it-up-la]

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[nomettesbizzareadventure]

CaeJose Week 2018 // “Future”

    The night after Joseph retrieves his adorable pissy nerd grandson and his purple friend from prison, he gets a phone call from Suzie. It must be early in the morning in New York- he can hear the sound of water kettle heating up and dishes clinking as Roses prepares breakfast, and he feels a sudden stab of jealousy that he’s not there with her.

    “Caesar’s on his way to you,” Suzie says, her voice uncharacteristically serious.

    “Caesar?” Joseph says. He and Caesar have always orbited each other like planets, but in the years since Holly moved to Japan their contact has been more and more infrequent, their lives stretched out between New York and England and Los Angeles and Rome. The last time Joseph saw Caesar, they were at Lisa Lisa’s funeral, shoulder to shoulder with her coffin between them. Lisa Lisa was more of a mother to Caesar than she was to him, and while Joseph didn’t resent either of them for it, it meant that he didn’t have anything to say- not to Caesar, and not to the gravestone. Afterwards, they went out and got incredibly smashed, and for about six hours Joseph felt like he was 18 again. But that was months ago, and they haven't spoken since.

    “He’s worried about this whole business with the stands,” Suzie reports.

    “He’s always worried,” Joseph complains, but he’s not really annoyed. It’s starting to look like they’ll need all the backup they can get.

    “Did he tell you about his stand?” Suzie asks, and giggles at Joseph’s obvious surprise.

    “OH MY GOD?! A stand- how- where did he- when- Suzie, what does it do?!”

    “Well, if he didn’t tell you, I don’t think I should…” Suzie says coyly.

    “Suzie, baby, angel, sweetheart, you can’t just-”

    Joseph’s conversation with Suzie is interrupted by Jotaro appearing ominously in his doorway, dressed in a Queen tank top and pajama pants and exuding ominous vibes in every direction.

    “I’m trying to sleep. Keep it down, gramps.” Joseph tries, he really does, but he fails to get any more information out of Suzie and after fifteen minutes Jotaro reappears, silently crushes the phone into dust, and then goes back to sleep. It’s hard being a genius, Joseph reflects sadly as he ticks himself into bed. No one appreciates him.

    The next day Jotaro comes home with an unconscious boy slung over his shoulder and then rescues his new friend from vampire tentacle. Joseph will give this to Jotaro- he might be a bad-tempered little brat, but at least he has the composure and skills to back up his scowls.  Of course, he immediately leaves after his rescue, probably embarrassed to have done something nice for another human being, and Joseph is left to explain to Kakyoin that he’s been under control by a sexy vampire for several weeks.

    Kakyoin takes it about as well as anyone can considering the circumstances, which is to say that he excuses himself to the bathroom and doesn’t come out for a long period of time. Joseph suspects he’s crying, or trying not to cry. Teenagers.

    Between this and that, Joseph entirely forgets about Caesar until about 7 the next morning, when someone comes careening into their driveway, motor loud enough to wake the dead, brakes squealing like a subway train, opera music playing at full blast. One last scream from the lead singer, and the car switches off. There’s the sound of a door slamming shut, and then the beep-beep of a car being locked.

    Caesar’s here, Joseph thinks, and then he’s clambering out of bed and putting his clothes on. A minute later and he’s at the door. He can see Caesar’s pink rental car through the window; it sits among the tasteful gardens of the Kujo estate like a stripper at church.

Caesar himself is waiting impatiently at the door, beautiful as ever. He’s the only bastard Joseph knows who could hop on a flight from Italy to Japan and come out looking the kind of disheveled that models spend hours in the makeup studio trying to achieve. His hair is a fine light blond, just beginning to shade to white, and he looks closer to thirty than to sixty, the wide muscle of his shoulder framed by his crop-top and elbow length gloves. At the sight of Joseph, a pink and blue humanoid flashes into existence behind him and poses, one finger pointed in Joseph’s direction.

Caesar grins real wide at Joseph’s shocked expression and throws his head back, his stand combing its fingers through his hair.

“I call it Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy,” Caesar says. His stand blows Joseph a kiss, and a pink bubble emerges from its lips and floats through the air. Curious, Joseph reaches for the bubble with his mechanical arm. It pops. A curious tingle passes through his body, and he finds that the entire left side of his body has gone numb.

“Hey,” he starts to protest, and Caesar grins and grabs Joseph in a headlock. They scuffle for a bit before Hermit Purple can finally get a grip on Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy and make it reverse the effect, which it does with a delicate kiss.

“Not dead yet, I see,” Caesar jeers. It’s a long-standing contention between them that Joseph doesn’t practice his hamon training as much as Caesar thinks he should. When Joseph’s hair first started to go white, Caesar took it as a personal insult.

    “You’re two years older than me!” Joseph responds, like he always does. Holly comes out of the house, and all the levity drains out of Caesar’s face. It’s only a moment and then his smile is plastered back on, but Joseph knows Caesar well enough to know when he’s bluffing.

    “Holly!” Caesar says, pulling her into a hug. They exchange enthusiastic greetings, but Joseph can tell something’s wrong. Caesar’s stand is hovering behind Holly, hand outstretched over her back like it wants to touch but can’t.

    “It’s been such a long time since we’ve had this much company,” Holly says, laughing. “Are you here to help Papa?”

    “I am,” Caesar says, and kisses her forehead. Holly’s eyelashes flutter, and goes limp. There’s something growing all along her back, thorns and vines, and Joseph doesn’t need to catch Caesar’s eyes to know what it is. A stand. A parasitic stand.

    “Holly,” he says, and his voice trembles in his throat.

    “This is your fault,” Caesar says quietly. The one big argument, the one that nearly brought down their house, the one that kept Ceasar from talking to Joseph for nearly a year- was about teaching Holly the ripple. Caesar wanted her to learn. He said that there were more monsters in the world than either of them knew about, and that it was an important tradition, and that Lisa Lisa would have wanted her to know, and then as the argument progressed he called Joseph negligent and lazy and selfish and, well...

    They both said a lot of things that they would regret later, but Holly never learned the ripple. Joseph wanted her to have a better life than Caesar had, a better life than Lisa Lisa had, and here she is, her life leaking out of her drip by drip by drip.

    “What’s wrong with her?” Jotaro demands. Joseph didn’t even see him appear.

    “Her stand is killing her,” Caesar says, and Jotaro’s face goes pale and furious, his stand looming behind him. After that, a lot of things happen in quick succession. The Speedwagon Foundation is called. Jotaro’s stand discovers a new talent for zoological artwork. Plane tickets are booked. Suitcases are packed.

    Caesar comes to Joseph when he’s in his room packing and shuts the door, and Joseph thinks for a moment that it’s going to be bad.

    “If you’ve come here to gloat at me over my daughter’s unconscious body I will beat the shit out of you,” he says, and means it. Caesar pauses, and then he keeps walking. He comes to a stop in front of Joseph, and then grabs him in a hug.

    “Dumbass,” he says. A lump rises in Joseph’s throat. He’s not a crybaby, whatever Caesar might accuse him of. He can hold it together for as long as he needs to, and right now it’s looking like that will be forty days and forty nights, god- the timer on his little girl’s life. Still, he lets Caesar hug him. He misses the days when they used to cuddle in the tower while insisting that they weren’t cuddling and Caesar would let Joseph fall asleep in his lap. It’s terrible, what time does to people, how far it takes you from the things you care about.

“I wish I’d been wrong,” Caesar says, and that gets a muffled laugh out of  Joseph. Caesar gives great hugs. He’s huge, solid, the feel of his body familiar even after all these years.

“You? Wrong?” Joseph says. “I’m sure that never happens, Caesar-chan.”

“I’m glad you can admit it at last,” Caesar says, pulling back from him. “We’ll do this, Joseph. Just like last time.”

“If I recall correctly, I did most of the work last time,” Joseph says, earning him a scowl from Caesar.

“That’s a failure on both our parts, then, since you hate work,” Caesar retaliates.

“You’re mean,” Joseph says, but he’s smiling. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, Old Man,” Caesar says, and Joseph winces.

“Don’t say that, it makes you sound like Jotaro.”

“Oh, you don’t want me to call you Jiji? You’re right, I don’t want to imply that I respect you.” Caesar may be the last remaining ripple master and have a shiny new stand and this and that, but at the end of the day Joseph can put him in a headlock until his hair looks awful and his face is pink, and that’s what really matters.

                        Kakyoin takes the initiative to order in some food, and they all troop outside to eat by the river while the doctors set up inside the house. None of them really want to watch as Holly is hooked up to their machines. As they’re trooping over the bridge and back towards the house, Jotaro’s new tentacle friend declares his intention to come with on their trip.

    “What use are you going to be?” Caesar asks. Behind Kakyoin’s back, Jotaro’s eyebrows go up slightly. He and Caesar have always gotten along well. Before Jotaro was a punk, he was the kind of nerd that admired Caesar’s flashy clothes and sweet words, and Joseph’s always suspected that he took up smoking in imitation of his ‘cool uncle.’

    “I beg your pardon,” Kakyoin says politely, and then Caesar goes careening over the edge of the bridge and comes to a stop just shy of the water, a piece of Hierophant Green wrapped around his ankle. Joseph didn’t see Kakyoin summon it, so he can only assume it was lurking under the bridge. He reluctantly awards Kakyoin points for preparation and audacity.

“Is that all,” Caesar says, laughing. Lover Boy pries Hierophant Green’s tentacle loose from his ankle, and Caesar flips over backwards onto the pond. He lands on the surface of the water like a gymnast sticking a landing. “I asked what use you were going to be, not your stand.”

Kakyoin looks flabbergasted. Behind him, Jotaro also looks surprised, or what passes for surprised with Jotaro. He really shouldn’t be. It’s not as if Joseph hasn’t told him about the ripple.

“Kids these days are so spoiled,” Joseph says. A snap of his fingers and the water rises, in an unnatural wave, depositing Caesar back on the bridge. Caesar strikes a pose like a model on a runway, his hand braced on Joseph’s shoulder. They’re standing in pairs now, Caesar and Joseph on the right, Kakyoin and Jotaro facing them on the left. Joseph knows the next step to this dance, even if the kids don’t.

Sure enough, Caesar’s stand strikes a pose behind them, and then the air is filled with bubbles. Kakyoin tries to move, but Hermit Purple’s got him pinned to the spot- and Jotaro too. It won’t hurt Joseph’s grandson to be reminded of the advantages of experience and trickery over power and youth.  The bubbles pop, and Kakyoin and Jotaro are locked into place, unable to move. Joseph winks. It feels good to stand like this, shoulder to shoulder with Caesar, united in their quest against an unknown foe. It feels like fate, like every step he took in the last decade was bringing him here to Caesar’s side.

    “Caesar,” Joseph says. “Let’s show them how it’s done!”

Written for CaeJose week 2018, for the prompt of “Future”. I’ve always wanted to see an SDC au with Caesar in it. I think he and Jotaro would bond over their love of cigarettes and being mean to Joseph.

The name of Caesar’s stand stolen from the incredibly funny Havisham and her wonderful CaeJose fics.

A big thank-you to the organizers for putting this together! : 3

[octothorpetopus]

Daylight (Part 1)

Sequel to I Forgot That You Existed (Link to Part 1)

Richie’s rental car (a red Mustang convertible, much like his own car) pulls into the Jade Of The Orient parking lot at half past eight the day after Mike calls. He sits in the driver seat, Eddie in the passenger seat beside him. They stare in silence straight ahead at the neon Jade Of The Orient sign before them, their hands entwined together, resting on the console.

”We don’t have to do this, you know,” Eddie says, turning to look at his boyfriend of these last six years. “We could turn around now, drive back to Bangor, and be on the next flight back to LA. We could be spooning in bed before the sun even comes up.” Richie smiles, but doesn’t meet Eddie’s eyes. The purple and green neon lights up his eyes, so gray that they’re almost black.

”Yeah, we do. We can’t leave them.” Eddie squeezes his hand once before opening the car door and stepping out into the cool Maine evening. A breeze cuts through his thin shirt and jacket, and he shivers. On the other side of the car, goosebumps run up and down Richie’s arms, only partially because of the cold. He meets Eddie in front of the doors, and takes a deep breath before pushing them open. There is no dramatic silence, no cheering, no... anything. There are families in the middle of dinner, couples in quiet conversation, a group of friends clustered around the bar. It is so utterly normal that they almost, for just a second, forget that this is Derry.

”Are you ready?” Eddie snorts and shakes his head.

”I don’t think I ever could be.” He takes Richie’s hand, and they follow a sign directing them to the private room in the back corner. They pause, just out of sight, already hearing muffled voices that are familiar and unfamiliar in equal measure. “Kiss for luck?” He asks, almost joking, mostly not. Richie pulls him close and kisses him with more fervor than maybe ever before in their entire relationship except for that first kiss on the sidewalk outside Eddie’s hotel. Eddie’s hand comes to rest in a familiar position, cupping Richie’s stubbled cheek. They do not break until someone clears their throat behind them. They jump apart like high schoolers caught making out behind the school gym.

”Hi, guys,” Mike says, his eyes slightly wide in surprise.

”Hey, Mike.” Richie bows his head sheepishly, and Eddie feels his face flush in embarrassment. He’s not sure why he’s embarrassed. Maybe it’s that he feels like he’s 13 again, in love with his best friend, unable to tell anyone else. He thinks that’s what Richie’s feeling too. They look at each other, then back at Mike, bracing for questions or shock or maybe even disgust, but they receive none. Mike just smiles that gentle, close-lipped smile of his, and takes Eddie into a tight hug, then Richie.

“It’s nice to see you guys again.” Richie visibly relaxes.

”It’s nice to see you, too.”

”I guess that makes sense why you picked up Eddie’s phone.” Richie smiles, but his eyes flick over to Eddie, and the love in them is insurmountable.

”I just wish you would have called sooner.” Eddie clasps Mike’s shoulder tenderly. He leads them into the room, where everyone else has already arrived. There are hugs and high-fives and inside jokes all around (“beep-beep, Richie” must be said at least ten times). They take their seats around the table, leaving one empty as if on instinct.

“What do you all do now?” Mike asks as they settle into their seats. “Bill, you’re obviously a writer.” Bill flushes and shrinks down into himself.

“I’m an architect. My new building in London just opened,” Ben says, a little self-importantly. It’s for Bev, obviously, and Richie and Eddie share a secretive grin over it. Not everyone got as lucky as they did.

”My husband and I have a fashion line. Rogan-Marsh,” Bev says, and when she says “husband”, both Ben and Bill’s heads snap up.

”That’s great, Bev,” Mike says before the moment gets any weirder.

”I was gonna be a voice actor, but apparently to work on movies you have to be ‘personable’ and ‘dedicated’ and ‘not talk about how the characters are probably furries on live television.’” This cracks everyone up for awhile.

"Beep-beep, Richie," Eddie mutters, jabbing a knee into Richie's thigh under the table.

“Yeah, so that didn’t work out. And now, like every other failed actor, I do stand-up.”

”Hey, I think I saw one of your specials once,” Bill says, his eyes sharp with memory.

”Was it any good?”

”Nah.” This sends them into another bout of laughter.

”And you, Eddie?” Everyone turns to look at him expectantly. Richie gives him a nod and a smile, almost imperceptibly. Eddie clears his throat.

”Well, I went to New York, and I was gonna start a limo service, but then one thing led to another, and now I’m the Los Angeles city planner.”

”You married?” Bill asks, and Richie loses his shit, howling with laughter.

”Eddie? Married? Come on, Bill-“

”Shut up, Rich.” Eddie elbows him hard in the ribs.

“So, you two look like you just fell right back into old patterns,” Bill says, his eyes twinkling with mirth as he leans back in his chair. Richie and Eddie exchange a look and nearly burst out laughing. “What? What’d I say?” Bill asks Bev, who just shakes her head and takes a sip of her beer.

”Actually-“ Richie snorts again, interrupting himself. “Actually, Bill, there’s a little more to it than that.” Everyone goes silent in intrigue. He turns to grin at Eddie, and their hands slip together in a position so comfortable it almost feels weirder to be separated. “We met up again about seven years ago, and we’ve been together ever since.”

”Together as in-“ Ben silences Bill with a smack to the back of his head.

”Together as in together.” Eddie looks at Richie, and the love would have been clear even to someone who had never met either of them before. “For seven years in July.” Mike lets out a low whistle.

”Congrats, guys,” Bev says, beaming. Ben sneaks a furtive glance at her before repeating the sentiment. Richie bites back a smile. He was worried, Eddie can tell. Eddie can always tell. Worried that their friends wouldn’t accept him, or accept them, or maybe that they’d think he was joking. But the worry is gone. He is fearless for the first time in his life.

In their car, Eddie switches on the radio as they take the long drive back from the Jade Of The Orient. Richie's jaw is clenched, and there is no light, no joy on his face. He is not Richie, at least not the Richie that Eddie knows.

"Baby, I-"

"Don't," Richie interrupts. "Let's just get our stuff and go home." His voice is soft, and it breaks Eddie's heart. They drive the rest of the way in silence. The lights of the Derry Town House are on, but there is no one else there. Richie supposes that Ben and Bev and Bill are not far behind them. He crosses the foyer in long strides, Eddie struggling to keep up behind him. Their room is on the 6th floor, and Richie runs up the stairs without pausing even for breath. He waits for Eddie, but slams the door behind him, and doesn't wait even a second before pulling their suitcases out of the closet. He throws them on the bed and does not move, just stares at them, breathing heavily. Eddie approaches him from behind and rests a hand on his shoulder.

"Richie." Richie turns around, and Eddie can at last see what the dark streets and thick glasses prevented him from seeing earlier: Richie's tear-streaked face, a picture of the conflict that tears through him. Wordlessly, Eddie wraps his arms around him, and Richie falls into him, shoulders wracked with sobs. "It's okay," Eddie whispers as he strokes Richie's hair. Before long, Richie stills, and Eddie's arms, which had been a vice grip around him, relax. Richie leans down to rest his forehead against Eddie's, and Eddie wipes the remaining tears from his cheeks.

"I'm sorry," Richie murmurs, to which Eddie laughs a bitter, surprised laugh.

"What are you sorry for?"

"I don't know, I just... am." Eddie presses a gentle kiss to his lips and cups his cheek tenderly.

“You have nothing to be sorry for. Look, there’s a bar downstairs. Go get a drink, calm down a little, and I’ll meet you down there when I’m done packing, okay?” Richie nods, and his heart swells with love for Eddie, who knows him better than anyone else on earth, even himself.

“I love you, Eds,” he says, and means it more than ever.

”I love you too, Trashmouth.”

"Fuck you," Richie says, and kisses Eddie back.

The six of them are all down in the clubhouse now, and Richie is more annoyed than ever at himself for coming back. In fact, he is so upset that for the first time in months, he has forgotten about the tiny wooden box in his jacket pocket.

"Seriously? You want us to go out there alone?" Eddie clings to his arm and repeats the sentiment. "Have you never seen a horror movie, Mike? Or read one of Bill's books?"

"Yeah, I'm with Richie on this one," Eddie says, nodding.

"Of course you are," Bill says, rolling his eyes.

"Hey, what the fuck is that supposed to mean?" Richie asks, stepping in front of Eddie, eyes blazing gray fire.

"Of course he'd agree with you, you guys are-"

"Hey! Cut it out!" Bev steps between them, physically pushing them apart with a surprising amount of upper body strength. "Richie, I'm sorry, but Mike and Bill are right." If it had been anyone other than Beverly to tell him that, Richie probably would have laughed and tried to leave again, probably to much better avail. But he trusts her, and so he steps back, if a little resentfully.

"So... where do we go?" Eddie pipes up over Richie's shoulder. Mike shrugs.

"Only you know that. We'll meet back at the library tonight, with your artifacts, okay?" Everyone affirms, and they split off to revisit the most painful moments of their past. Everyone except for Eddie and Richie, who stay in the clubhouse a moment longer. Richie lowers himself gently into the dusty hammock, which creaks but does not break under his wait. Eddie sits beside him, and it sinks lower as they lean into each other.

"This sucks," Eddie says, and Richie brushes the hair off his forehead to place a gentle kiss on it.

"Yeah," he mutters, his mouth still pressed against the smooth skin of Eddie's face. "It seriously does."

"Still want to leave?" Richie sighs and thinks a moment.

"...no. Not really."

"Want me to come with you?"

"Yes. But..."

"I can't. I know. Worth a shot." They sit, swinging back and forth just a little bit, looking around at the discarded memories of their childhood. A stack of cassette tapes all labeled 'Richie Tozier's All-Dead Rock Show'. Row after row of comics organized from favorite to least favorite, the way all kids sort their treasures. There is one post with what must be dozens of photographs tacked to it: Richie and Beverly at a midnight showing of Rocky Horror Picture Show; Eddie, Bill, and Mike at the quarry; Ben, Stan, and Richie working at the ice cream shop; finally, Richie and Eddie in the Ferris wheel at the Canal Days festival. It is faded and covered in dust, but Eddie plucks it off the wall and slips it into his pocket. "There. Now you'll still be with me." Richie's lip wobbles, but he doesn't cry. He refuses to cry more than once in 24 hours.

"That's... so fucking cheesy, Eddie."

"Yeah, I know." They share one last kiss in that hammock, long and slow and almost painful to break, before they climb the ladder and go their separate ways.

Eddie’s head is still spinning when he returns from the pharmacy. He takes the steps two at a time, desperate for a shower or bath or hell, a jump in the quarry. But he doesn’t get any of those, because the second he steps foot in his room, he stops in his tracks. Richie sits on the bed his face in his hands. He doesn’t look up when Eddie enters. Ben, who is sitting beside him with a comforting hand on his back, does. Before Ben even says a word, Eddie can see his eyes, and they are terrified. Not for himself, although there is some of that, but the way they consistently flit back towards Richie tells Eddie everything he needs to know. No longer worried about the leper’s vomit that is soaking him from head to toe, Eddie sits on Richie’s other side, bouncing his leg in that familiar nervous tic as he thinks of what to say. His mind is blank. He does not know what Richie encountered, what moment of his childhood could have reduced him to this. He literally looks smaller.

“I... are you okay?” He asks finally, and regrets it immediately.

”No, Eddie, I’m not fucking okay!” Not once in the last six years has Richie ever raised his voice to Eddie, and as soon as he does, a horrified expression appears on his face. Ben stands abruptly.

”I’ll leave you guys alone.” He leaves Richie and Eddie sitting on the bed I’m resigned quiet.

”Richie, what-“

”Don’t.”

”Rich, please-“

”Don’t you see, Eds?” Richie is on his feet now, and he begins to pace back and forth in short bursts. “I can’t tell you. I just went and relived the worst moment of my entire childhood, alone.”

”And? We all did, Richie.” Eddie was angry now. “We all just went through hell to get this shit. I love you, but you’re not the only one who’s in some pain right now.” Richie looked down at Eddie. Literally, because he was standing and also much taller than Eddie, but also figuratively. Eddie laughs bitterly before Richie can say another word, because he knows, he knows just what Richie’s thinking. He thinks that no matter what Eddie went through, no matter what horrors he faced, they can’t possibly be as horrible as what he went through. No way, no how. “Sorry, Richie, but the world doesn’t fucking revolve around you and your childhood trauma. The rest of us went through the same shit.”

Richie snorts, a caustic sounds that burns Eddie’s heart like acid.

”Really?” It sounds like an innocent enough question, but Eddie has known Richie long enough to know that when he’s really truly angry, his sarcastic tone almost sounds sincere. It’s the only thing about Richie that Eddie finds legitimately terrifying. It’s just never been directed at him before.

“Yeah, really,” he says, standing his ground. “I love you, but don’t forget that you’re not alone.” Eddie is too tired to be furious now, and his voice wavers.

”’I’m not alone.’” Richie scoffs. “Don’t you get it? That’s exactly it.”

”Huh?”

“Pennywise, he knows... my greatest fear is of my love for you.” Eddie’s brow furrows in confusion.

”What, that you won’t love me? Richie, that’s bullshit. Total bullshit.” But Richie just shakes his head.

”Not that.”

”Then what?” Richie watches Eddie’s face as it dawns on him. He thinks maybe he can see Eddie’s heart break in the clear black of his eyes. “You’re afraid...” he chokes on the words hardly able to get them out. “You’re afraid you will love me,” he says finally. Richie says nothing, just nods. Eddie stammers noiselessly for a moment. “Richie, I don’t understand.”

”Not you. Necessarily. Just... someone like you.”

”Someone like... you mean, a man?” Richie nods miserably. “But... I mean... you seemed so sure when we got together.”

”I was, but being back here reminded me how unsure I was then. Somehow It knew, and It made me feel so-“ Richie cuts off as he bursts into tears again. Without thinking, Eddie wraps an arm around his shoulders and squeezes him tightly, just as he used to do when they were kids.

”Richie,” he murmurs, burying his face in Richie’s hair. “Richie, you can’t listen to It. You can’t.”

”How?”

“I don’t know. But It attacked me too. And all of a sudden I was thirteen again and I was just so... small. But then I got my hands around Its neck, and then it was the small one. You just have to take yourself back. Take back the parts that make you yourself. All of them.” Richie sniffles, but the tears taper off. “I’m sorry for what I said. You deserve to deal with what happened in your own way.” Richie removes his tear-streaked face from Eddie’s rumpled, soaking shirt, kisses him as warmly and fully as he can.

”I’m sorry, too,” he says when they part. “I think I’m just being dramatic.” Eddie laughs a little.

”You think?” He stands and opens the bathroom door. “Look, I’m covered in leper puke, so I gotta take a shower.” He pauses. “Care to join me?”

“Well, as fun and sexy as cleaning vomit off of you sounds, I need a hell of a nap before we meet the others at the library tonight.” Eddie nods. He’s not really disappointed. He didn’t think Richie would say yes.

”Right. Get some rest, my love.” Richie swallows hard and almost starts crying again.

”I will. Because you’re here.” With that, Eddie shuts the bathroom door behind him and goes to splash his face with water. Richie drifts off, while his face is submerged in the freezing water from the Kenduskeag, which is why neither of them hears Henry Bowers slip into the room behind Eddie. In fact, Eddie doesn't notice until Bowers's knife is being plunged hilt-deep into his face. He screams in pain, and in a moment of odd clarity, regrets it. It will wake Richie, and as much as he'd love some help right now, he doesn't want to wake the sleeping man in the next room. He deserves a rest. Eddie stumbles backwards, his normally droopy and vaguely sad eyes wide with hysteria, and steps into the bathtub, swinging the shower curtain between himself and Henry. He hears raspy breathing through the gray-green fabric, and nearly chokes on his own breath. He does not know anything that's happening, except that his upper jaw seems to be paralyzed somehow. It's the knife, he realizes, and laughs a mad, high-pitched laugh. The knife is stuck in the bone and that's why he can't move. It would be funny, except that he almost wants to puke thinking about it.

But he doesn't. He pushes down the bile and the terror overtaking him, takes the handle of the knife in one hand, grits his teeth (as much as he can, again, the knife is shoved through the joint in his jaw), and pulls. It takes everything in him, but he doesn't make a sound. He feels sweat pour down his face, but he keeps pulling a little at a time, inch by inch, until he's holding the knife entirely in his hand. Blood trickles down off the blade and onto his fingers, which are muddy and vomit-covered and good lord does he need an actual shower. And then, without a thought, he stabs blindly at the vague shadow through the curtain. The blade drives home directly into Henry Bowers's sternum, and the shower curtain snaps off the rings as he topples backwards with his own knife sticking out of his chest. It isn't until he hears the loud thump of Bowers hitting the floor that Richie actually rouses, at which point he races to the bathroom.

"Eds? Are you- JESUS FUCK!" He staggers backwards, tripping over his own feet and landing on his ass. Eddie hurries to him and offers him a hand up, blood pouring out of the open wound on his face. "Holy fucking shit, Eddie!"

"What? Is it bad?" Richie barks out a laugh.

"Yeah, baby, it's bad. Also, is that fucking-"

"It's Bowers." With all of the blood in Eddie's mouth, it comes out more like "It'sh Bowersh."

"Holy fucking shit," Richie repeats again, softer. "Come on, let's get you patched up." Richie takes Eddie by the arm and leads him to the bed. He scrambles through Eddie's bags until he finally finds the massive first-aid kit Eddie insists on taking with them everywhere. Turns out, he had the right idea.

When the cut (which is actually not too bad- the blade didn't actually go through the bone, and it went in a mostly straight line) is held together with a decent number of butterfly bandages and a strip of gauze has been taped over it, Richie and Eddie finally turn their attention back to the body in their bathroom. Except-

"Uh... Richie?" Eddie says.

"Hm?" Richie is putting away the medical supplies.

"...Where's Bowers?"

"What the hell do you mean, 'where's Bowers', he's right-" Richie looks over Eddie's shoulder at the empty spot on the tiled floor where Bowers should be. Because he should be dead. But evidently, that didn't happen, because he’s not there. There is a streak of blood across the floor leading to the window, which is wide open, the curtain billowing in air that suggests a storm is on its way.

”Motherfucker,” Eddie says, barely above a whisper.

”Fucking... fuck!” Richie slams his fist into the door frame, then winces as he shakes it out. He takes off running, first through the room, then down the stairs. Eddie struggles to keep up with him, pausing at the top of his stairs to use his inhaler.

“Richie, where the hell are you going?”

”Where do you think?” Richie asks, still running for the doors. “I’m going to kill Henry Bowers!”

“Fuck,” Eddie mutters, but doesn’t run after him. He won’t be able to catch up, and then he’ll just be tired. And he shouldn’t stop Richie. Henry Bowers is a piece of shit, and he knows that Richie’s got his own grudge match with him, not just Eddie’s to think about. He sees Ben standing on the landing below and races to him. Ben, who is still staring puzzledly, jumps when Eddie grabs his arm, and takes Eddie by the shoulders to steady him before he can topple over.

"Whoa, Eddie- wait, what the fuck happened to your face-?"

"Never mind that. Henry Bowers showed up, he- he attacked me- I stabbed him- thought he was dead but- and now Richie's- Richie's gonna kill him," he finishes finally, the words coming in short, clipped bursts.

"What?!" Bev comes into view. She has heard everything, and her face is washed pale. "Jesus, first Bill, now Richie?"

"Wait, where's Bill?" She explains how Bill ran off to the carnival and Eddie runs his hand over his face. "Fuck. Okay, Bowers came here, which probably means he meant to kill not just me, but all of us. The three of us are here. Richie, Mike, and Bill are all on their own. Richie went after Bowers, Mike is at the library, and Bill is at the carnival." Ben and Bev share a confused glance, but Eddie doesn't see it. He sees a map of Derry stretched out before him, and each of them are a red dot on the map. He sees Mike sorting through stacks of books, Richie hunched over the Mustang's steering wheel, Bill racing Silver down the streets of Derry, fast enough to beat the devil. He can visualize it all in a way that is impossible to explain to anyone else, but that's truly incredible to watch as he points in seemingly random directions, tracing the lines of the streets. "It won't be Bill. The carnival is too crowded for Bowers to try anything there. Richie, Richie's in his car, but-" Eddie has a thought then. Richie's not dumb, as much as he likes to act it. "Richie's probably figured out the same thing I just did, which is that Mike is alone and totally unsuspecting. That's where Bowers'll go, and when he gets there, he'll get both of them. We have to go. Now." Eddie pats his pockets and groans. "Fuck. Richie's got the car keys.

"I've got it," Ben says, and they rush the doors. "Let's go."

[my-emotional-self]

The Accident Chapter 21

Pairings: Chris Evans x OFC

Warnings:  Swearing, Fluff, Smut (Oral)

Summary: After yet another fight with your boyfriend Chris, you go for a drive and get into a terrible accident.  Upon waking up in the hospital, you find both Sebastian and Chris sitting there.  The only problem?  You have no recent memories and you think you are still dating Sebastian.

The following morning you felt refreshed, with a new found confidence lingering deep within you.  If it had not been for Dodger last night, there was a very good chance that you and Chris would have had sex, and you were damn ready for it.  

Last night before leaving Robert’s BBQ, Sebastian offered for the four of you to go out for breakfast before he and Margarita had to leave later this evening for their flight back to New York.  It was an idea you definitely didn’t want to say no to, especially getting your memories back about Margarita.  It would be good to spend the day with them and you were looking forward to it.  

Throwing your hair in a loose bun, you hopped in the shower to quickly wash down your body and shave; not wanting to deal with having to blow dry your hair this morning.  You moaned as the sweet smell of your body wash as you scrubbed away delicately at your body.  

Grabbing a towel, you wrapped it around yourself before cleaning off the foggy mirror.  You opened the door a crack to let the fog in the room diminish; the overhead fans never clearing it out fast enough for you. Your hand went to grab your green electric toothbrush right as Chris opened the door to the bathroom.  He stilled, seeing you standing there in only a towel before turning around and averting his eyes; you thought it was adorable.

“Shit Erica I’m sorry, I didn’t think…I mean I know you showered….it’s just that I thought you were dressed,” he stuttered out, his back to you.  

Trying to hold back your smile, you failed at how flustered he was.  There was no reason for him to be flustered like that because you were damn sure he had seen you naked more than enough times to count; even if you couldn’t remember it.  “Chris, turn around,” you declared, trying to keep your face neutral.  

Chris slowly turned, keeping his eyes to the floor and you burst out laughing.  His brows furrowed as his eyes glanced upwards to meet your laughing, bent over frame.  “What’s so funny?”

“You!!!  You are being hilarious right now.”  You walked towards him and cupped his face, bringing it down so you could plant a kiss to his lips.  They were soft, so dreamy and soft as you took his lower full lip between your teeth and gave it a nibble.  The kiss soon turned heated and you became aroused, very suddenly.  His kisses were intoxicating and you realized he was your drug.

Chris gripped your hips, walking you backwards as your backside hit the bathroom counter.  Your hands were wrapped in his hair, never wanting to let him go.  His hands trailed up and down your arms as you felt his growing erection against your core and on instinct, you bucked your hips into him earning a growl from Chris. You loved hearing that noise as you bucked your hips into him again.  This time, Chris grabbed your waist and hoisted you onto the counter in one swift motion.  

Your lips parted from his and you were left staring into lust filled eyes; chest heaving.  His lips were at your neck, alternating between soft kisses and sweet nibbles and your moan echoed throughout the room. Your head tilted back, hitting the mirror as a jolt of arousal came at your core when he sucked onto your sweet spot, just below your ear.  

“Fuck I want to taste all of you,” he rasped as he began to lick his way across your neck and to the other side.  At this point, you wanted him to taste you to as his now fully hard cock kept hitting your cunt, your inner monologue begging for mercy.  

With your hands at the seams of your towel, you let it fall from your chest, leaving you open and bare to him.  His eyes were nearly black now, no sight of his blue orbs as he took in your naked body. Your chest was heaving; your nipples pert and ready for him to suck on.  He gave you an apprehensive look and you nodded at him, letting him know you wanted it.  

Without any more hesitation, his lips clasped around your right nipple and you cried out in pleasure as your hands tangled into his locks.  His right hand trailed down your stomach, dipping a finger straight into your dripping pussy.  “Fuuucckkkk,” you moaned as your back arched.  He trailed wet kisses across your chest before giving your left nipple the same amount of attention; his tongue swirling around the hardened pebble before dropping on his knees in front of you.  

Spreading your legs wide for him, he delved right in as his fingers held open your slit.  His mouth was attached to your clit so fast you had no time to react.  Your hands gripped the side of the counter, holding on for dear life as Chris’ sweet assault on you took over.  You were so worked up with arousal and desire that you knew it wouldn’t be long until your release came.  His tongue swiped from your center all the way up to your nub before suckling it between his lips.  He was a fucking magician with that tongue as your breath came out in short gasps. Your legs began to tremble as you cried out, “don’t stop don’t stop right there right there!”  The coil snapped as you dissolved into pleasure; your inner walls clenching as you high took over your body.  

Chris’ hands were on your thighs, rubbing gently as you came down from your mind blowing orgasm; a sultry smirk on his face.  You let out a few short breaths before finally getting the courage to get down from the counter.  Trailing your hands down his body, they stopped on his erect cock before slinking your thumbs into the waistband of his shorts and shimmying them down his thighs.  

You didn’t give him any time to react before taking him into your mouth.  Your tongue darted around, coating him with saliva as you easily began to bob your head.  His pre-cum was salty and you moaned at the taste of him.  “Fuck baby,” Chris’ voice was husky as he held his hand out onto the counter for support.  Your right hand cupped his balls gently as your left hand was wrapped at his base. If the two of you were to get to breakfast on time, this needed to be fast.  Knowing your gag reflexes were rather non-existent, you took your hands and placed them on his tight ass and began to move them towards you; letting him know that he could set his own pace.  And that was just what he did.  Placing his free hand on the back of your head, he began to jut his hips into your mouth; your nails racking up and down his thighs.  Before long his cock started to twitch in your mouth. His hips stilled as his seed coated your throat and you swallowed around his thick length.  

Pulling away from him, you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand.  Standing up on shaky legs, you saw Chris breathing heavily with his eyes closed.  “That was fucking amazing.  I was not intending for that to happen this morning but fuck am I glad it did.”

Giving him a quick kiss to his chest, you playfully pushed him backwards.  “You’re lucky I hadn’t brushed my teeth yet.”

~~~

The fresh morning air and sun felt good on your face as the four of you sat on the patio of a quaint little bistro in downtown Los Angeles.  After your and Chris’ rather delightful morning, the two of you quickly got ready and you put on a pair of light pink skinny jeans, black tank top and black flats.  Your hair was pulled up into a tight pony to keep off your neck.  

Breakfast was delicious as you slumped back in your chair, feeling extremely full.  The boys were chatting together as you and Margarita were both stuffed to the brim and laying back in your chairs.  

“What time is your flight?” Chris asked, taking a sip of his water.  

Sebastian looked at his watch before responding.  “Not until 8p.m tonight.”

“Come on back to our place. We can play some video games.   I got the new Call of Duty on Xbox and haven’t had any time to try it out.”  You groaned in dissatisfaction as he spoke and he turned to face you.  “What was that for?” he asked with a chuckle.  

“I don’t want to sit and watch you play video games all day,” you retorted, feeling annoyed yet you knew that he wanted to spend time with his friend.  

“Let’s go shopping then!” Margarita chimed in and you perked up at her request.  

“Fuck yes!  Now THAT is what I’m talking about!” you cheered, raising your hand in the air.  Looking over at Chris, you saw him smiling at you as Sebastian whispered closely to his ear; Chris nodded at his words.  With furrowed brows, you continued to look at the two men before Chris finally spoke up.

“Alright, alright, I’ll let her know,” Chris spoke with a smile.  

“What’s going on?” You looked between the three of them, all staring and smiling at you.  

Chris grabbed your smaller hands with his larger ones, engulfing them.  He pulled them up to give a kiss to your knuckles.  “I’ve been talking with Sebastian and Margarita about what to do for your birthday….and….well….we’ve all kind of up come with the same idea.”  Chris didn’t continue and your heart began to race, wondering what they all had planned. “How about you and I go out to NYC next week for your birthday?”

Your eyes grew wide like dinner plates, your lips parting.  “Are…are you serious??”  Chris nodded, smiling brightly at you.  Jumping out of your chair and onto his lap, you clasped your hands around his neck, nuzzling your face to him as happy tears were shed from your eyes.  These were the three most important people in your life; they would do anything for you.  And here they were, planning a trip for you to go to NYC for your birthday; what you had always done for your birthday.  You were unsure if you could become any happier than in this moment right now.  

~~~

Sebastian and Chris took one care back to the house to play some video games, while you and Margarita took their rental car to get some shopping done.  Now that you knew you were going to NYC for your birthday next week, you wanted to get some new clothes!  

Parking in the lot, you and Margarita began walking up and down the sidewalk, determining what shops you guys wanted to go in.

“So, how is everything going between you and Chris?” Margarita spoke up.  You usually hesitated whenever anyone asked you that question, feeling like those people were intruding on your person life because you couldn’t remember them.  But not Margie, not your best friend.  It was like a giant weight had been lifted off your shoulder; another person to talk to, confide in.  

A smile graced your lips at her question, just thinking about what you and Chris had done earlier that morning in the bathroom.  “Good Margie, things are going really good.”

Margarita didn’t let anything go and noticed your smile along with your blush tinted cheeks. “Holy shit Erica, did you sleep with him?”

“What?  NO!,” you chimed back quickly, shaking your head. “…..not entirely.”  The two of you shared a look before bursting out laughing as she put her arm around your shoulder and hugged you from the side.  

“That’s my girl.”

The two of you spent the next few hours in and out of shops, trying on dresses, pants, shorts and shirts; taking pictures together.  It was never ending fun and you were happy to have her in your life.  

Making your way back to the car, you noticed a shop and instantly pulled Margarita inside.  Just the thought of you and Chris having sex made you want to get something extra special.  

Walking into the store, Margarita looks around, nodding her head.  “Now this is going to be fun!”

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