#The Christmas beach trip was the most stupid idea my father has ever had and that is saying something

[selfwriting-sugarquills]

70 Fred Weasley headcanons in celebration of 700 followers:

(plus an extra one, for the heck of it lmao) 

You guys, thank you so much for 700 followers! I appreciate every single one of you and writing for the twins has been such a blast so far, much to the thanks of all of you <3 

Find the 70 George Headcanons: Here

Fred has always been really good at sleight of hand stuff, as a kid, he could do card tricks with ease, steal baked goods from his mother’s kitchen and later on since his allowance wasn’t exactly anything to brag about, he’d steal sweets from honeydukes' on Hogsmeade trips, with the help of George, he’s not proud of it but in his defence, he was a stupid teenage boy at the time. 

Fred is incredibly competitive and will hold onto anything you challenge him to for way longer than you might think. He’s definitely the type to “race you” anytime you’re headed to herbology, care against magical creatures or Hogsmeade together.

As the man himself said in the deathly hallows, Fred doesn’t like the idea of a big grandiose wedding ceremony, he’d prefer something more low-key and simple, where the focus is more on having fun and celebrating instead of neat seating plans and meticulously chosen decorations. Some flowers and booze will do, he’ll provide the fireworks - In essence, he only needs his S/O and the rest he couldn’t care less about. 

George may be better at cooking, but Fred makes a damn good pancake and he will forever pride himself on that. 

Fred is the more jealous, overprotective twin. He’s aware of this and tries his best not to let it go to his head but he can’t help it. 

Fred snores, I’m pretty sure it’s canon that both twins snore, but Fred is louder and, as mentioned in my last headcanon post, a very heavy sleeper meaning it’s more difficult to get him to wake up so he can stop, your best shot is trying (and probably failing) to turn him over. 

Fred is also a very restless sleeper, he’ll toss and turn, and occasionally dream about quidditch. I’m saying you might want to be aware that he might confuse you for a bludger in his sleep, don’t worry though, he’ll always apologise profusely and make it up to you with a lot of kisses (and maybe a bit more than that, if you’re keen ;)) 

Fred has an extensive caffeine addiction, which is unfortunate cause he’s quite hyper already but he can’t function properly until he gets his coffee in the morning, and then again in between lessons/at lunch and then again late in the afternoon. Sometimes, if he needed to write an essay that was due, he’d drink coffee at like nine pm. He knows he won’t be able to sleep because of it, please, Y/n, he’s accepted his fate. 

I personally always imagined the twins as having ADHD, idk why it just fits their characters. Fred is for sure the more outwardly fidgety and intrusive, this gets less and less with age, as it does for a lot of ADHD people, his inability to focus remains the same though. 

Fred loves being outside, he’s the first of the Weasley siblings to suggest a game of quidditch or just going outside for walks, hide and seek in the woods near their house. He absolutely loves taking his dates on walks in parks or at the beach and when he has kids he plays with them in their yard, building snowmen etc. 

Fred probably suggests at some point that the whole family should go camping, and he’s actually really fun to camp with. He’ll tell the best scary stories by the campfire. 

In regards to children, Fred wants a lot of kids. Like at least three but would be willing to have more if his s/o wants to. He just really likes the dynamic of a large family since that’s what he’s used to. 

Fred’s favourite flavour of sweets is anything sour, the sourer the better, because of this he can handle it really well and he loves handing people some of his ridiculously sour candy and watching them squirm. 

He also really likes spicy food, he’s a bit of a daredevil so don’t challenge him to eat anything because he will eat a whole chilli and nearly die. 

 You know he’d be really casual about it too, lol, like sweating and crying but just leaning on the counter like “*pant* what? hot? no not at all *deeeeep breath* I can ha-aw-rdly taste it!” 

One thing about Fred is that he’s oddly squeamish, like seeing his brother’s ear blown off isn’t so bad (if you don’t take into account the emotional trauma that is), but a needle for a blood sample or a vaccine? oooh, he’s gonna need a big juice box and a cookie and his s/o’s hand to hold if he’s gonna make it through. He also has a thing about leeches. One time at Hogwarts they were mentioned in a lesson and he thought he was going to faint the entire time. 

Fred’s broken five bones over the years, four are from quidditch: his left arm and two ribs, and then the other arm from trying to do an elaborate stunt on the stairs in the burrow and falling down two flights. 

Fred loves to sing karaoke (because I cannot get that damn clip of James singing karaoke out of my head) though he particularly enjoys doing a very poor job on purpose. 

Fred is such a good liar that on several occasions he’s given presentations in school and gotten good marks for them despite having bullshat his way through the entire thing. 

Like seriously, he’s that guy in the group project who only looks at the slides like five minutes before the presentation and then just turns on a full charming newscaster voice on the professor to the point of them being genuinely convinced (albeit a little confused) that what Fred’s saying is true. 

This is also why Fred loves playing card games like poker: he’s really good at bluffing. 

Speaking of poker-face, he’s really quite good at teasing in public (if you’re into that sort of thing *wink*) because no matter the dirty deeds he might get up to under a table, his face remains as regular as always (safe for a little smirk to his lover every now and then) 

Fred always wanted to learn an instrument, he thought it’d make him cooler when he was a teenager, as an adult, he just really wants to recreate that clip of the trombone-playing dad with the sunglasses, or maybe serenade some cows with jazz or something. 

Fred was never a big fan of the uniform thing, so he always tried to make it his own, whether that be tying the tie differently, or having his sleeves rolled up; it’s not much but you gotta take what you can get when you’re literally dressed the same as everyone else. 

Fred might make fun of his dad’s interest in muggle things but secretly he loves it too. He has spent a lot of hours in the shed with Arthur, assuring everyone that it was just to have some quality time with his dad but he would still pay close attention when Arthur explained things to him. 

Fred had a whole business of selling candy from Honeydukes’ and joke products from Zonko’s to second and first years before he and George started dabbling with their own products, he could get you a butterbeer too but it’ll cost you an extra three galleons. 

Fred really likes glitter, George has a thing for lace, anything that glitters on his s/o makes Fred weak. If you want to get your way just put on some glittery eyeshadow or lipgloss and watch him spin. 

Since he loves things that glitter and gleam he loves buying his s/o jewellery, he loves seeing them wearing them as little tokens of their relationship. 

Did someone say slight possession kink? oops not me

Fred is incredible with numbers, this is pretty much canon and has been explored but I’m just amazed at this boy’s wit AND intellect. I have a slight headcanon that if he ever goes on a proper first date with someone where a bill is involved, he impresses his date by calculating the tip after just a glance.

Even if Fred has a longstanding reputation of not caring about school, when he has kids he does want to help them with any coursework over the summer and Christmas breaks, he’ll even study up on his old books just to be able to help out in any classes he didn’t take/didn’t pay attention in. 

Fred would, in general, be an amazing father. He’s goofy and playful most of the time, though he’s serious and incredibly caring whenever his kids are in a bad mood or have problems. He knows that he’s not the most outwardly emotional of the twins but he makes sure his kids know they can always talk to him about anything. 

Fred is incredibly messy. His room is usually a cry for help and he only cleans it when it gets to the point where it distracts him from focusing on work. 

No worries though, his S/O doesn’t have to do all the housework for him, he’ll do it. He just needs to be reminded that he needs to every once in a while. 

Fred has a really bad temper, he doesn’t know where he gets it from but he tends to get angry easier than George, though Fred is better at letting it out so it doesn’t continue to bother him. 

His bad temper does mean that he used to brawl more with siblings as a kid, and it wasn’t unusual to see him with scrapes and bruises as a kid, much to Molly’s dismay. Fred didn’t mind though, he thought it made him look tough. 

Fred is more likely to get caught sneaking around because of his brash nature, he tends to forget just how quiet you have to be to avoid Mrs Norris in the corridors. 

Fred is certainly not an early bird but his favourite time of day is, in fact, the morning when the sun’s coming up. He only knows this because of Wood’s ridiculously early quidditch practices but there’s something about the way the world looks when it’s bathed in soft golden light that just hits different to Fred. 

Fred is a great team player, as much as he seems like he’s more selfish than George, if it’s regarding a team activity (like quidditch or a battle of sorts) he’ll completely lose all focus on himself and only try to ensure other’s safety and victory. This is also why he plays as a beater, he’s not afraid of getting hit at all when he’s focused on getting the bludgers away from his teammates. 

So if his s/o ever needs it, he’ll be there to help with anything: Needs to take a day off from work to take care of his sick s/o? no problem. Needs to stay up with his small child because his s/o is exhausted and needs rest? On it. Something as small as carrying groceries or books, making a cup of tea when the other is busy or doing the dishes is all on the list of things that Fred will happily do for his s/o, and often without having to be asked, he’ll just do it. 

Fred’s boggart is seeing his family members and/or his s/o hurt beyond what he can save. Essentially his worst fear is being helpless when he needs it most. 

One of those times was when George lost his ear. The first night when George was lying practically unconscious on the couch with blood everywhere was the worst night of Fred’s life, he truly felt so anxious and helpless and angry that he vomited and ended up passing out next to the couch after staying up till sunrise watching his brother like a hawk. 

He didn’t just sleepwalk when he was younger, he also often experienced nightmares, it’s only George, Molly and Arthur who remembers anything about this. 

They got less and less the older he got and he assumed that he’d never be bothered by them again until after the second wizarding war and the battle of Hogwarts. 

I don’t like to headcanon that he dies cause he didn’t and that’s final lol. I do, however, headcanon that Fred still gets hurt, since everyone in the explosion beside him seemed to sustain minor injuries, I just think that to even out with George losing his ear, he hurts his leg and needs a lot of retraining/a walking stick. I think that’d be a more fair/unfair ending for Fred who’s always full of energy having to have to adjust to living slowly for a little while (not permanently, I couldn’t do that to my boy). 

The boy has anxiety sometimes, ok. (just let me project for a second)

He didn’t know how much tension he usually holds in his body until he drank alcohol for the first time and felt his entire body loosen up and was like “huh this is new.” 

He doesn’t use alcohol to deal with it though, he prefers just talking to George about whenever he feels is stressing him out and that helps. A massage from his s/o to loosen him up doesn’t hurt either. 

Fred prefers to talk to his dad about his problems more than he prefers to talk to Molly, generally. 

His favourite body parts on his s/o: Shoulders, hips, hands. 

He loves to kiss, just in general, but he also loves kissing his s/o’s nose, forehead, neck, shoulder, etc. as little gestures of affection. 

He def. has a bit of a size kink, he loves being taller than his s/o. 

If Fred could have any pet he wanted, he’d probably want a dog, the bigger the better. He doesn’t think he has the time for a pet though. 

It was his idea to start breeding pygmy puffs, it’s the closest he’ll get to having a pet. 

I don’t know why but I feel like when Fred and his s/o are expecting and his s/o goes into labour he just panics. loses it, drops the binkie as we say in Denmark: Freaks the fuck out, if you will. He’s definitely the pacing and wringing his hands together type, though he probably tries his best to keep himself composed and chill during the whole thing whilst simultaneously hyperventilating. 

Fred doesn’t cry often but he sure as hell wept with pride when he held all his kids for the first time. 

Despite the notion that the twins often slip in a joke version of a sweet treat or something similar amongst the snacks at parties, Fred is strongly against tampering with drinks. He knows the connotations it holds and he doesn’t want anyone to be afraid they’d put something in it. If he wants you to test out their truth serum or a love potion, he’ll just ask you flat out and if you don’t want to, he’s not going to continue asking. 

Most of the detentions Fred has gotten from Snape come from times he’s spoken back to him when Snape’s been giving another student a rough time. He doesn’t regret it one bit. 

 If you ask Fred what his proudest accomplishment is, he’ll probably say that it’s having had enough restraint to not punch Umbridge in the face every time he saw her. 

On the note of Umbridge. It wasn’t her detentions with him that got his blood boiling, it was when she punished little kids (a la Nigel) for doing practically nothing, he understands that to an extent and by comparison, setting off a bunch of fireworks inside a building would harbour a harsher punishment, but making twelve-year-olds bleed for running in the halls or playing music or just doing things that twelve-year-olds will inevitably do, is something Fred doesn’t understand. That year pretty much any kid younger than him, or anyone who was too afraid to stand up for themselves, became Fred and George’s little siblings, and they’re very protective older brothers. Umbridge can vouch for that. 

He struggles with a lot of insecurity in his relationships, he always puts on a front of being extra funny and outgoing when he’s in a new relationship because he’s secretly afraid that the way he is isn’t good enough and that eventually, his s/o will see through him and leave because they don’t like the softer, more serious side of him. 

Fred is the godfather of all of George’s kids but is also the godparent of Hugo, Lily and Lucy. 

Fred loves business meetings, he sees them as a good challenge to practice his smooth talk. 

Fred spent his first salary from the shop on the most expensive bottle of champagne he could find and a new suit. 

Fred tried to get into whiskey, feeling like it’d make him a cool business owner type of man, so, with his second salary, he went out and bought a fancy-schmancy bottle of whiskey and the whole getup with a bottle and some cool glasses, and then invited Lee over to try it with him and George. 

They did not like it. Fred thought it tasted like what he imagined gasoline tastes like so they mostly used it as decorations, not having the heart to mix it with something. 

Fred doesn’t necessarily like PDA, it depends on what you mean. He likes being secretive. Pulling his s/o into an empty classroom, nook, hallway, secret pathway etc where anyone could wander in at any time and snogging her senseless is one of his favourite things to do. 

Fred knows how good he looks in his quidditch uniform and will absolutely use it against his s/o. (they’re gonna get spicy from here on so read with caution if you're in public)

Fred prefers giving more than receiving oral. 

He has a lot of energy, did you not think that would rub off (no pun intended) on his sex drive? He can go pretty much any time and place, and typically last at least two rounds. 

Also, his favourite position is having you on top. Okay, I'm gonna stop now. 

[groovybaybee]

Empty Beach (4.5k)

Three hours. It only took three hours for the tan line on my ring finger to be brought up. Three measly hours I had spent in the country, travelling to the house and unpacking, before his name was mentioned. Despite choosing a later flight in a desperate attempt to spend as little time with my distant relatives as possible, the question was inevitable.

 “No Ethan this year?” my sweet but intrusive grandmother had asked the second grace had been uttered.

 It took less than two seconds for the question to be answered by my mother.

 “They split up, ma,” she said with a passive aggressive smile as she passed me some vegetables.

 “That’s a pity… such a nice young man,” my grandmother pressed, leaning forward in her seat.

 “Very nice,” I muttered under my breath, knowing fully well that my side of the story would never be accepted.

“Anyone else on the scene?” asked my uncle as he bounced a fussy toddler on his knee. “Want to get yourself settled soon, pop out a couple of these sweet things.” He added when I shook my head.

 I watched as the child grabbed wildly at anything in his reach, knocking a bread roll on to the floor. My eyes followed my uncle as he reached down to scoop up the discarded food, quickly blowing at it before settling it back on his plate.

 “Mhm,” I hummed before dropping my gaze to my plate, pushing the food around miserably.

 The rest of the meal followed a similar pattern. Questions were asked. Digs unsubtly disguised as jokes were made at my expense. I offered half-hearted noises of agreement when reminded that my biological clock is ticking, and no man wants an old spinster for a wife.

 Family has a way of making you feel terrible about yourself. They can highlight all your perceived failures and mock them to your face, delighting in their ‘progress’ comparative to yours.

 Ethan used to make these visits more bearable. Having someone accompany me to these yearly holidays helped to calm the fire in my stomach, the urge to argue with my family’s traditional ideals. For a while, I convinced myself Ethan’s presence soothed my wild nature outside these trips as well, encouraging me to be practical and always plan ahead.

 He was sensible and I was sensible when I was around him. So, when he asked me to marry him at this exact villa one year ago, I did the sensible thing and accepted.

 My family were ecstatic, finally marrying me off and watching me become the person they expected me to become. First would be the wedding, then children, then grandchildren. I would be a wife, most likely staying home to raise our children and resenting every moment of allowing myself to be stifled like that.

 Ethan and I made sense in almost every way. We just lacked that… something. Some people describe it as a spark, others a fire. Whatever it is, it never existed between us. We both knew that, so it did not shock me to see the relief in his eyes when I returned his ring.

 No one could understand how we ended a four-year relationship over seemingly nothing, especially not my family members.

 “Have you been trying to work things out with Ethan? I’m sure if you just talked you could resolve whatever you’re going through.” My mother urged as we cleared the table.

 The scoff that left my lips was unintentional but impossible to retain.

 “I’m trying to help fix your mistakes.” She snapped, clattering plates as she piled them forcefully.

 “Not everything I do is a mistake.” I countered softly, exhausted from my flight and from the years of having this conversation.

 “Of course not, but don’t your father and I deserve grandchildren? Have we not earned that after—”

 I refused to let her finish her sentence, quickly announcing that I was going for a walk.

 Blood boiled in my veins as I trudged through cobbled streets. The stomp of my sandals against the ground sounded ridiculous and only infuriated me further as I stormed aimlessly through familiar backstreets until the sound of softly crashing waves called me closer.

 It was after sunset, most of the beach empty save for a few teenagers gathered around a small fire. The anger in me had subsided by the time I reached the sand, gently toeing off my shoes and carrying them with me as I walked the width of the beach.

 Waves brushed my toes as I inhaled and exhaled deeply, grateful for the gentle evening breeze that seemed to soothe the burn inside my throat. I spent a few moments, still, allowing the water to cleanse my soul and pull away the negativity of the night with each receding wave.

 Planting myself in the sand, I stretched out my legs to their full extent, flexing and relaxing my bare feet until the tiny grains felt coarse on my skin.

 I sat for a long while, reminding myself that only I knew what was best for me. Not my family, who I purposely only interacted with a couple of times per year. They barely knew me; they most definitely did not know what I needed.

 The urge to settle down at a young age and start a family as quickly as possible in order to continue the cycle had never appealed to me. Even as a child I craved excitement and adventure; something no amount of familial intervention could knock out of me.

 A late-night trip to the beach like this one would be considered reckless. I could only imagine the passive-aggressive nightmare I would return to. Silent gawks and glares would surround me until I felt claustrophobic.

 My desire for freedom and spontaneity most certainly was the product of a recessive gene, one only shared by my great aunt, Delilah. She stopped attending all family get-togethers when I was still a child. The memory of her pulling me back during a family walk to skip stones with her would stay with me forever.

 “They won’t be around you forever,” she had told me as she bounced a rock four times across the placid lake. “One day you’ll have your own life. You’ll make your own choices and you’ll make them for yourself, won’t you honey?”

 I hadn’t really understood what she meant but I nodded anyway. I idolised her. The fire I recognised in myself, I saw in her. She was the only one who understood me, which is why it hurt all the more when I had to face family gatherings alone.

 It was only when I was an adult that her leaving made sense. Delilah was in her late sixties when she finally came out to her family. That evening, after we returned from the lake, I was sent to bed while my family had a ‘grown-up’ discussion. The next morning, she was gone, and no one would tell me why.

 She sent presents on birthdays and Christmas, postcards from each new place she visited, always reminding me to be true to myself and do what I wanted. Now she was free, she felt alive.

 I drew her name in the damp sand with my index finger, mine beneath it, and made a silent promise to keep the fire alive for the both of us.

 What would DeeDee do right now? I had wondered.

 An immediate grin had spread across my face when I heard her voice in my head, telling me: “I don’t know, something stupid like skinny-dipping.”

 I knew that if she were around, she would tell the story of how she skinny-dipped at boarding school with the headmistress’ daughter. I could almost feel the warmth of her laughter as I sat on the sand.

 Envying her liberation, I glanced around the beach to gage the possibility of being nude without being arrested for public indecency.

 The teenagers had left while I was reminiscing, their fire extinguished. The beach appeared empty. No one would see. Even if it was just for a moment, it felt something that I needed to experience.

 Head and heart fixed on the idea, I quickly stripped my body of the pale blue sundress. Taking a swift but deep breath, I pulled down my underwear and tossed them into the pile. A small giggle fell from my lips as my body adjusted to the new temperature. A warm gust of wind blew past me, almost as if encouragingly pushing me towards the water.

 I ran without looking back until my knees splashed water around my body and the ocean became too deep and slowed me down. I stood, waist deep, under the sky. It was a clear night, save for a few light clouds which glided past in the breeze.

 My eyes fell closed as I breathed in the moment, desperate to savour each salty kiss and gentle caress of the water. Everyone had disappeared. Each nag and dig had vanished from memory. This was peace.

 It was peace, until the gentle crashing of waves was interrupted by a sigh.

 Instantly, I crouched in the water, eager for ever the slightest touch of modesty as I turned to locate the source of the sound.

 About ten metres away, waves lapping around his ribs, stood a man with his eyes closed and head thrown back as if bathing in the moonlight.

 In a desperate attempt to go unseen, I squatted low. My chin just above the water, I attempted to side-step away in order to keep an eye on him and prevent any awkwardness.

 I was almost crab-walking away when he finally noticed me, a misplaced footstep caused me to be plunged underneath the lukewarm tide.

 “Whoa, you alright?” I heard him ask when I surfaced, spluttering and spitting so much water that I did not notice him mirror my stance, also crouched.

 “Fine.” I coughed, clearly not fine but thankful that he did not press it.

 The two of us stood in silence as I caught my breath, running my hands over my head to scrape back the tangling mess of hair, already wondering how I would explain this when I returned to my family.

 “Nice night isn’t it?” he asked after the silence started to become thick with tension.

 “Yeah, not bad,” I replied, pausing for a moment to smirk at the ridiculousness of the situation.

 “Know any constellations?” he had asked, turning his head back up to the sky.

 “Not really,” I answered.

 It was at this moment that I was given the chance to appreciate him. His head bobbed just above the water, darkened wet hair plastered itself to his head, some parts curling out in defiance. An angular jaw tilted to the stars, catching their light and softening his features. The stranger glowed and glistened as awe-filled eyes watched the twinkling wonders above us.

 “You?” I questioned.

 “Just the ones everyone knows… Orion’s belt, Cassiopeia…” he commented, and I copied his stance, gazing up to the night sky.

 An overwhelming swell of gratitude washed across me as I stood beneath the glittering expanse. I pictured the stars looking down at us as we did to them, marvelling at their distance. Everything felt so insignificant in the most calming way. It did not matter what my family thought of me, or even the unknown man beside me (once I felt safe that he was not about to murder me and leave my lifeless body to float out with the tide). All that mattered is that in that moment, cuddled by gentle waves and illuminated by starlight, I felt alive.

 “When I was a kid, I thought that night-time was like a knitted blanket and stars were the little gaps you get,” he spoke.

 Not able to help myself, I turned to him with a grin at his admission. It felt like such an impossible confession to make to a stranger that I had to meet his gaze, eyes already trained on me by the time mine found his.

 “Sorry, bit mental to tell a stranger.” He laughed.

 “What’s your name?” I asked, sensing his discomfort from oversharing. “Then we aren’t strangers anymore.”

 I learnt his name was Harry. I told him mine and we discuss childhood beliefs as if we had known each other longer than a few minutes. Mentioning my unshakable faith that lightening was just a huge camera flashing seemed to relax him. There was a sweetness to the look he gave me as I spoke. A gentle stare that paired with an equally easy smile. Lips quirked with each word I uttered, until I soon wore a matching grin.

 Only when I was able to notice the deep-set dimples in his cheeks did I realise we had migrated closer to one another. By the sea or our own volition, we were only a few feet apart. He was breath-taking up close, warm but dark eyes glinted emerald and a light dusting of freckles across his nose were a testament to a day in the sun.

It was then that I began to panic. The realisation that the possibility to slip away without him seeing my nude body was quickly diminishing the more I spoke to him. But I didn’t want to stop.

 “I don’t believe you.” I laughed heartily.

 “It’s true! I can call my mum and she’ll tell you. My sister convinced me whenever I blinked everyone turned into a frog.” He spoke fondly, a warmth spreading across his features as he reminisced.

 “Can I ask you something that’s going to sound a bit mad?” I asked once calm was restored between us. One last-ditch effort to keep some dignity intact.

 “Sure.” Harry had answered with a light, throaty chuckle.

 “Do you think you could wait here for a few minutes and then come meet me on the beach? I’m getting kind of cold, but I think you’re interesting.” I explained the best I could.

 “Okay.” He smiled.

 Almost unbelievably, he continued to follow my instructions when I had him face away from the beach and promise not to look back. He seemed respectful when I made a half-hearted comment about wanting privacy as I towelled off, so I made my way out of the water with confidence that he would not peek. Even if he did, all he would have seen was two cheeks speeding away.

 As quickly as possible, I wiped off as much excess water as I could before pulling on sandy clothing. Almost instantly, a wave of regret passed over me as grains of sand covered a variety of patches of skin. However, when I saw Harry stepping towards me, equally sodden and sandy, the feeling washed away as promptly as it had arrived.

 “So how come you’re out here alone?” I asked curiously as we sat.

 “Doing a bit of solo travelling, kind of figuring out who I am by myself.” He answered. I felt there was more to his story that he was holding back but I did not push. “How about you?”

 “Similar thing kind of... just needed a break.” I explained. I imagine he sensed the same caginess from me as I did him, but, again, we did not dive deeper.

 “What’s the plan for your trip? Where you headed next?” I asked nosily, fascinated by him in all honesty.

 “No real plan.” He told happily.

 Again, he took my breath away. Here was someone with no plans, no aims, no pressures. He was freely living his life. The carefree and spontaneous nature of his attitude threw me off, and I sat staring at him, wondering how I could capture that feeling and keep it with me.

 “What?” he asked with a smirk as I gazed at him admiringly.

 “Nothing, you’re… you’re just not like a lot of people I know.”

 “Shall I take that as a compliment?”

 “Definitely.” I told him with a nod.

 Finally, I managed to prise my gaze from him and look out to the swelling ocean, but I felt his eyes on me still. My face began to heat up as I felt his lingering looks, tracing over my features. Breath caught in my throat as my chest rose and fell heavily.

 “Harry,” I uttered, voice barely above a whisper as I turned to face him.

 “Mm?” he hummed, eyes softly locked on my lips.

 We didn’t say anything else, there was no room for words as our bodies gravitated towards one another until our lips touched. His were salty and a little chapped from the ocean, I imagine mine were too, but they left soft, buttery kisses that left my chest aching for more. From the first moment our lips pressed, I felt addicted to them. Each kiss was another hit, more intoxicating than the last.

 He held me to him. Fingertips grazed the slope of my jaw. Lips sweeter than treacle, we sank together. Soon, our bodies laid as one on the sand, water occasionally lapping at our toes as the tide rolled closer.

 We kept ourselves warm despite the dropping temperature, bodies moving against one another symbiotically. Gradually, hands worked their way under clothing, cold and warm meeting in a blissful collision. A cocktail of excitement and caution filled my stomach. Each matched breath and heavy sigh sent a fizz through my bloodstream, soon drunk on his movements. Desire and trepidation battled throughout my being; a tug of war unevenly stacked against sensibility.

 When a large hand reached my breast, a light gasp tumbled from my lips. His actions stoked a fire within me that even the rising tide could not extinguish. Harry moved slowly, thoughtfully, as his touch spread around me, seeming to savour every single inch. My body arched into his when his lips pulled at the soft flesh of my neck, sucking gently but enough to have my hips rolling involuntarily. Desperately seeking some form of stimulation, they jolted harshly against his. The smirk I felt pressed against my skin only encouraged the burning within me. I was in dire need for something free and a little wild, and there he was.

 “I don’t want to assume anything…” I began, my breathy voice barely above a whisper as his lips travelled down my collarbones and to my chest, “But do you have protection?”

 “In my bag.” He replied with a nod to his large, bulging backpack.

 For a moment, we lay still, his chin on my chest as bright eyes and a matching smile looked up at me. There was a shared sense of relief at the realisation that we both wanted the same thing and wanted the best possible outcome for each other. There was mischief in our eyes, a touch of recklessness, but mainly care.

 Lips returned to my skin, puckering along each peak and valley of my covered torso until his mouth reached the hem of my dress. Lifting his eyes questioningly to meet mine, he waited patiently until I gave a soft nod. Eagerly, hands slip beneath the fabric, gliding up the outside of my thighs to reach my hips. He grabbed at the flesh there, greedily kneading it as kisses worked their way up the inside of my legs.

 “Harry…” I breathed out hopelessly.

 His lips crooked into a smile, but he continued to take his time, seeming to enjoy the way my body fought to lay flat against the sand.

 Special attention was given to each and every part of my body, his lips taking their time in dragging their way upwards until, finally, they met the ache between my thighs. His tongue licked tentatively to begin with, before the sight of my body writhing beneath him instilled a new wave of confidence. Soft licks evolved into wet, open-mouthed kisses. Before too long, his mouth moved keenly in delicate swirls as fingertips dug gently but firmly into my hips. Harry held me in place as I desperately sought more from him. Back arched and toes dug helplessly into the sand, his hair tangled through my fingers.

 His eyes were on me the whole time, confidently working me close to orgasm without even a shred of doubt in his performance. Not that there needed to be, his mouth moved beautifully against me, switching between soft licks, gentle sucking, and passionate lapping. I felt his jaw moving up and down as his face pressed into me, nose and mouth gliding up and down the length of my pussy, sure to leave no area neglected. My eyes met and disconnected with his constantly, battling to watch and remember every detail of being with him while struggling to keep my eyes open at all.

 “Think you can come for me?” he groaned; lips so close they sent vibrations across my flesh.

 I was already a quaking mess from his actions, but his words, his desire to give me pleasure, all became too much. My fingers wound through his hair as he pulled me closer, working faster and sloppier. Messy, wonderful circles swirled around my clit as a hand reached up the length of my body. The top of my dress was pulled down, breasts exposed and sensitive in the night air. Gentle fingertips juxtaposed the passion between my legs as they caressed and rolled the freed flesh.

 Overcome with sensation, my hips shuddered against him. Stomach contracting as my toes buried themselves in the sand and fingers grasped his hair, desperate to cling to the world in any way possible. My body fought this urge, convulsing and shivering as his actions became less intense, tongue moving softer against me as he pulled me through my orgasm.

 Once I had stopped shaking, Harry crawled back up my body to lay beside me. He pressed a soft kiss to my forehead before propping himself up on his elbow to observe me.

 My breathing levelled out and muscles relaxed before I was able to open my eyes again. When I did, I noticed the way the moonlight reflected on his face, showering him with luminescent majesty. He looked ethereal as he watched over me.

 “All good?” he asked softly, the slightest touch of nervousness present in his voice.

 In response, I nodded my head to his backpack. I watched as an inescapable grin slipped on to his lips before he rolled over to dig through his bag.

 As he searched, my hands began to explore his body. Slowly, they felt the tension of his shoulders, a firm chest, prominent abdominal muscles covered in a layer of soft flesh. The other hand ghosted across the meatiness of his thighs, urgently fighting the desire to dig my fingers in. It continued up to his hipbone, the bottom of his shirt pushed up slightly, revealing tattoos I had not had chance to see yet. I wondered if he would let me count them sometime as he turned back to face me, condom in hand.

 His gaze softened as it fell on me, flickering for a second to my breasts before returning to my face. Our lips reconnected, the same warmth spreading across them and down into my chest and stomach, already hooked on the feeling.

 “You’re sure, right?” I asked him when my hand reached the waistband of his shorts.

 “Positive. You?”

 My answer came in the form of a nod before I slipped a hand through his hair and pulled his lips back to mine.

 Our hands worked clumsily together to unbutton his shorts, soft giggles shared as our fingers tangled. I pulled myself on top of him as he rolled the condom down the length of his cock. His eyes watched me hungrily as I positioned myself above him, gathering the excess fabric of my skirt in my hand before sinking slowly on to him. A gasp left my mouth involuntarily as my body accommodated his size. When the backs of my thighs met the tops of his, I paused, my hips grinding of their own volition. Rocking back and forth caused him to hit the most delicious spots, my muscles clenching around him until he was bucking his hips slightly, starting the cycle anew.

 I rose from my position before returning, just as slowly and deliberately. The moans my movements elicited where otherworldly. The melting of our bodies into one another was intense, seeming to fit and move together as if that was their design. Soon, our hips rolled and met quicker, the sensation unlike anything I had ever felt. After a moment, Harry sat up, one arm around my waist and the other behind him to steady us. Lips clung to my chest, pressing kisses along my sternum before encircling my nipple and sucking softly. My hips began to move up and down at the new sensation, causing Harry to pull his head back, watching with lust-filled eyes as my breasts bounced before his eyes.

 A low growl of a moan escaped Harry’s lips as both arms wrapped around my waist tightly. I was lifted and placed gently on my back on the sand before I could even register what was happening. This new position allowed so much more freedom for him, his hips instantly snapping against mine. Each thrust shook my whole body, sand certainly tangling in my hair. There would be no excusing this when I returned to the villa, but I could not have cared less. All I could think about was the feeling between my legs as Harry grabbed me by the waist and collided our hips over and over. He had pulled his shirt up, holding the bottom between his teeth to prevent it from interfering. His eyes bore into mine, watching with a small smirk as I crumbled into a moaning mess beneath him when he slipped a hand down to rub gentle circles against my clit. Still sensitive from before, the added stimulation had me writhing under him.

 I became increasingly thankful for the sound of the waves, just loud enough to cover the obscenities that spilled from my lips as I was brought to my second orgasm. The sensation of my muscles tightening around him proved too much, as he stilled not soon after, a beautifully gruff rendition of my name tumbling from his lips.

 After a moment of gentle thrusts, he pulled out and returned to his position beside me, grabbing a towel from his bag and laying it across us like a blanket. His arm lifted, calling me closer until my head rest on his chest. We laid for a while, regaining our breaths and waiting for our heartbeats to slow.

 “I think that one is Ursa Major.” Harry spoke softly, his voice a little gravellier than before.

 I looked up to the stars to seek the constellation he pointed out, quickly realised I was not that interested.

 “I don’t really care about stars.” I confessed, looking up at him with a slightly exhausted grin.

 “Me neither,” he replied, bottom lip tugged slightly into his mouth as he smirked at me mischievously. “Just wanted to keep talking to you really.”

 Thankful that the night would cover the heat rising in my cheeks, I told him, “I think I quite enjoy talking to you.”

 “Maybe we should run away together.” He joked, a look of fear flickering through his eyes as he realised how intense that could sound, quickly melted away by my breathy laugh.

 “Where do you want to go first?”

masterlist

[illchanceit]

DI'S MASTERLIST

main ❀ ko-fi ❀ ao3

❀Fics❀

«Brave» AO3: ❀ Tumblr: ❀ “He was trembling. Despite the darkness surrounding them, and the shitty dim light of the flashlight he was holding, Richie could tell that Eddie was trembling with fear. He wanted nothing more than to reach out, touch him, hold him. He wanted to tell Eddie that everything would be alright, that they would get through this.”『809 | T』

«Burn, Crash, Romance (I'll Take What I Can Get From You)» *WIP* AO3: ❀ “Richie didn’t know Eddie very well, not that he would want to, and even just looking at him now, he knew that Eddie Kaspbrak was exactly all the things that Richie had tried to tell Stanley that frat boys were. His brown hair flopped into his brown eyes, pressed down by some red snapback worn backwards and beige khaki jeans that looked glued to his legs. He was hot and the smirk on his face showed that he knew it.” 『2919 | E | collab with @pattysblum』

«Coffee Shop Angel» AO3: ❀ Tumblr: ❀ “Wow, I’ve never been called a literal angel before.” He’s no longer laughing, but his smile is wide and his eyes were still bright. “Baby, that should be considered a damn crime,” he sighs, shaking his head in disbelief. “You deserve to be worshipped.”『2218 | T』

«Cold November Rain» AO3: ❀ Tumblr: ❀ "He was an idiot. A stupid, cowardly jerk. Why had he run away? That kiss had been everything he could have ever wanted. It was soft, tender and loving. Richie had put so much emotion behind that kiss. So much, that it had scared Eddie. Scared him so much that he made himself believe it was all some kind of joke."『1512 | T』

«Don’t Monkey Around With My Heart» AO3: ❀ Tumblr: ❀ "He rubbed at his eyes, seconds away from falling apart at the realization that this was all just a joke to Richie. He didn’t mean any of the words he’d said to Eddie and he never would."『1228 | T』

«Forget the Past, I Want You In My Future» AO3: ❀ Tumblr: ❀ "He quickly pulled on his coat, making his way through the radio station with a smile as he waved to everyone who greeted him. ‘Keep smiling. You’re almost out of here. Just a couple more steps.’ Richie thought to himself as he pushed open the front doors and stepped outside, cold air hitting him and a chill running down his spine. He hugged himself, rubbing his hands up and down his arms, trying to warm himself up. He made his way down the stone steps of the station entrance, fishing through his jacket pocket for his car keys. The last thing he thought, as his fingers made contact with the cold metal of his keys and his foot slipped on a slippery patch of ice, was how much he really fucking hated Christmas. [or: radio DJ Richie Tozier slips on ice and has to spend Christmas in hospital, with trainee Doctor Kaspbrak looking after him.]"『3477 | T』

«Habeas Your Corpus» AO3: ❀ Tumblr: ❀ “A beautiful blond between his legs was not the direction he thought his Monday would be going, but he wasn’t going to question it. Even if a part of him knew that doing this in a courtroom, where anyone could walk in on them at any moment, was a horrible idea. Then again, Richie wasn’t known for his good ideas, much less for his common sense, and so he shrugged away any lingering doubt as he surrendered to the feeling of Eddie’s hands.”『6654|E』

«How to Bring Someone Back from the Dead» *WIP* AO3: ❀ Tumblr: ❀ “He finds it in the library. The book is tucked between a couple of self-help books that Mike told him he should look into reading. It’s out of place—doesn’t belong there—but the title peaks his curiosity. How to Bring Someone Back from the Dead. He grabs the spine of the book and gently holds it in his hand, inspecting it. There’s no author, no other information, just a title and a short dedication of sorts on the first page. “For those that have hope still lingering in their hearts…” He looks around, making sure no one is watching him before he swiftly hides the small book in the pocket of his jacket.”『1306 | T』

«How to Know If You’re On a Date With Your Best Friend» AO3: ❀ Tumblr: ❀ “He could see the way Richie looked at him with furrowed eyebrows, eyes slowly widening as he realized Eddie was coming over to sit next to him. Plopping down on the seat, he pushed Richie further into the booth, making himself comfortable. Without breaking eye contact, he placed his straw in Richie’s milkshake glass and asked, “Are we on a date right now?””『2213 | T』

«Kiss Me By The Firelight» AO3: ❀ Tumblr: ❀ ““Alright trashmouth, truth or dare?” He looked over at Beverly, who had plopped down next to him, with a weary expression on his face. He studied her, the mischievous grin on her face not going unnoticed by an already alert Richie. “Dare, obviously. Only pussies choose truth.””『1247 | T』

«Kissed the Mark» AO3: ❀ Tumblr: ❀ ““Sorry, but you’re gonna have to tell me more than just your name before I let you put your hands on me.” Eddie jokes as he nods his head at Bev in thanks for their drinks. “I’m not that easy.” “Oh ok, hmm let me think…” Richie says as he pretends to think about what he’s going to say “I like long walks on the beach and being the little spoon, plus I’m a total bottom.” Eddie flushes at this, turning his head to avoid eye contact with Richie, and takes a sip of his beer. Richie continues to look at him, enjoying the way he continuously makes the other man blush. “What about you?””『3975 | E』

«Love Me (If That's What You Wanna Do)» AO3: ❀ Tumblr: ❀ “It was hard to say who exactly started it. After all, both of them were slightly tipsy the night The Kiss happened. All Richie could say—as his hand slowly slid down Eddie’s back, causing him to let out a faint whimper—was that he was very happy with the outcome of it all.”『1286 | M』

«Make It Up To You» AO3: ❀ Tumblr: ❀ “Maybe it was a little fucked up that he took considerable pleasure in watching his boyfriend of almost ten years cry as Richie denied him what he wanted most, but he couldn’t bring himself to care so much. If Eddie had caught on to his little guilty pleasure, he never mentioned it to Richie, and if he had an issue with the way Richie teased him in bed, he would have definitely called him out on it by now.”『4612 | E』

«Snowed Inn» AO3: ❀ Tumblr: ❀ “Richie and Eddie are carpooling home from college for the holidays but a snowstorm hits on their way there and they have to stay the night at a b&b”『4612 | E』

«The Future Freaks Me Out» AO3: ❀ Tumblr: ❀ “I’ll tell you one thing and one thing only spaghetti. I don’t want to think about a future where you’re not in it. I don’t want to think about you being on the opposite side of this country from me. I don’t want to think about any of that because I love you and it hurts. So please, shut the fuck up about college applications already!”『932 | T』

«Until I Hear It From You» AO3: ❀ Tumblr: ❀ “M-my parents sucked.” Bill said as he choked back a sob. “I mean... my own father hit me with his fucking car and then barely batted an eye. I’m terrified that I’ll fuck this up, Eddie. I don’t want to be a bad father, I want Ellie to have all the love and attention that Georgie and I never got growing up. You and Rich have two adorable daughters that have everything they could ever want...That’s what I want for Ellie. Please, Eddie, tell me how to be a good father.”『1599 | T』

❀College AU Prompts❀

«Richiepat» ❀ "you asked me out and I didn’t have time for dating between a full-time course load and my job(s), so I know it’s two semesters later but I’d really like to take you up on that date" + "we always end up eating alone in the school cafeteria at the same time, so when you ask me if you can join me, I’m surprised" «Steddie» ❀ "I catch you yelling at the printer in the library for not working and I don’t mean to alarm you since you’re clearly stressed, but I think you accidentally unplugged it" «Stozier» ❀ "some idiots decided it would be funny to mess with peoples’ laundry so now we’re sorting through our dryers and you’re holding up my pink underwear"

❀Drunk Prompts❀

«Reddie» ❀ “Why haven’t you kissed me yet?” + 2. Road Trip AU ❀ “H-How long have you been standing there?” ❀ “You’re sick, let me take care of you.” ❀ “You make me want things I can’t have!” ❀ the gang is playing a drinking game and Eddie wins, and he wants a lapdance from Richie ❀ “Please don’t be mad at me.” ❀ “You know you don’t have to try so hard with me, right?” ❀ “Are you jealous? That’s cute.” ❀ “Oh, God. We broke it–dude, he’s gonna be so pissed! This is all your fault–it was your idea!” + “… Is that my underwear?” + “Shut up and kiss me, you idiot.” «Stozier» ❀ “I know you’re mad at me, but will a kiss change your mind?” ❀ “Nothing is going to happen to you.”

❀Emoji Prompts❀

«Reddie» ❀ 🎉👄🤒 ❀ 🐿🍌👙

❀Five Sentence Prompts❀

«Reddie» ❀ “they said that broken mirror equals in 7 years of bad luck”? ❀ “It’s three in the morning!” ❀ “It’s three in the morning!” ❀ “just because i love eds it doesn’t mean i want to be with him,” eddie heard richie say. «2» ❀ “you know I love you, right?” «2» ❀ “Do you want me to?” «2» ❀ “And what exactly do you think you’re doing, my love?” «Hanslon» ❀ "I finally found you"

❀Halloween Prompts❀

«Reddie» ❀ You've literally dressed as ____ for _____ years, shouldn't you change it up? ❀ You drank the punch at the halloween party and made yourself sick so I’m taking care of you AU ❀ excuse you, i will never be too old to go trick-or-treating and i hear the house down the street gives out full sized candy bars «Streddie» ❀ A cat followed me home and won’t leave me alone even when I put a little hat on it so I guess I have a cat now AU

❀Kiss Prompts❀

«Reddie» ❀ In the bedroom + Confessing feelings ❀ in the snow + relief

❀Misc. Prompts❀

«Reddie» ❀ claws - as an apology here’s something I wrote for you ❀ okay dee,,, write that fuckin reddie kiss i NEED it for my soul, ok??? ❀ Okay but like Richie finally comes out by writing his first comedy special on his own as like therapy to work through what happened and the whole thing is about the dumb annoying hypochondriac that he was in love with as a kid. “He put his feet in my face and kicked of my glasses and I said to myself he’s the fucking one.” ❀ ficlet for my moodboard based on “he knew well enough” ❀ “I may be short, but you could at least try to make kissing you easier!” «Stanpat» ❀ you’re obsessed with my homemade soup that I serve at my cafe and I’m too embarrassed to tell you that I’ve only been trying out new recipes to see you get excited for the soup of the day. «Stozier» ❀ can we talk about how "it takes hours to look this good richie" is followed by richie winking at stan

❀NSFW Prompts❀

«Reddie» ❀ “One baby won’t hurt.”

❀Headcanons❀

❀ Reddie // Sunflowers ❀ Ben // The Sims ❀ Stozier and Reddie // Stanley and Richie dated at one point ❀ Reddie // Chapter 1 End Scene ❀ Richiepat // Chaotic Best Friends

[sarah-snook]

di’s masterlist

main ❀ ko-fi ❀ ao3

♡MULTICHAPTER♡

«Burn, Crash, Romance (I’ll Take What I Can Get From You)» AO3 ↬ word count: 2919 | rating: E | WIP - 1/8 chapters | collab with @richietoizer

Richie didn’t know Eddie very well, not that he would want to, and even just looking at him now, he knew that Eddie Kaspbrak was exactly all the things that Richie had tried to tell Stanley that frat boys were. His brown hair flopped into his brown eyes, pressed down by some red snapback worn backwards and beige khaki jeans that looked glued to his legs. He was hot and the smirk on his face showed that he knew it.

«How to Bring Someone Back from the Dead» AO3 // tumblr ↬ word count: 6496 | rating: T | WIP - 3/5 chapters

He finds it in the library. The book is tucked between a couple of self-help books that Mike told him he should look into reading. It’s out of place—doesn’t belong there—but the title peaks his curiosity. How to Bring Someone Back from the Dead. He grabs the spine of the book and gently holds it in his hand, inspecting it. There’s no author, no other information, just a title and a short dedication of sorts on the first page. “For those that have hope still lingering in their hearts…” He looks around, making sure no one is watching him before he swiftly hides the small book in the pocket of his jacket.

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

♡ONESHOTS♡

«Brave» AO3 // tumblr ↬ word count: 809 | rating: T

He was trembling. Despite the darkness surrounding them, and the shitty dim light of the flashlight he was holding, Richie could tell that Eddie was trembling with fear. He wanted nothing more than to reach out, touch him, hold him. He wanted to tell Eddie that everything would be alright, that they would get through this.

«Coffee Shop Angel» AO3 // tumblr ↬ word count: 2218 | rating: T

“Wow, I’ve never been called a literal angel before.” He’s no longer laughing, but his smile is wide and his eyes were still bright.

“Baby, that should be considered a damn crime,” he sighs, shaking his head in disbelief. “You deserve to be worshipped.”

«Cold November Rain» AO3 // tumblr ↬ word count: 1512 | rating: T

He was an idiot. A stupid, cowardly jerk. Why had he run away? That kiss had been everything he could have ever wanted. It was soft, tender and loving. Richie had put so much emotion behind that kiss. So much, that it had scared Eddie. Scared him so much that he made himself believe it was all some kind of joke.

«Don’t Monkey Around With My Heart» AO3 // tumblr ↬ word count: 1228 | rating: T

«Forget the Past, I Want You In My Future» AO3 // tumblr ↬ word count: 3477 | rating: T

He quickly pulled on his coat, making his way through the radio station with a smile as he waved to everyone who greeted him. ‘Keep smiling. You’re almost out of here. Just a couple more steps.’ Richie thought to himself as he pushed open the front doors and stepped outside, cold air hitting him and a chill running down his spine. He hugged himself, rubbing his hands up and down his arms, trying to warm himself up.

He made his way down the stone steps of the station entrance, fishing through his jacket pocket for his car keys. The last thing he thought, as his fingers made contact with the cold metal of his keys and his foot slipped on a slippery patch of ice, was how much he really fucking hated Christmas.

[or: radio DJ Richie Tozier slips on ice and has to spend Christmas in hospital, with trainee Doctor Kaspbrak looking after him.]

«Habeas Your Corpus» AO3 // tumblr ↬ word count: 6654 | rating: E

A beautiful blond between his legs was not the direction he thought his Monday would be going, but he wasn’t going to question it. Even if a part of him knew that doing this in a courtroom, where anyone could walk in on them at any moment, was a horrible idea. Then again, Richie wasn’t known for his good ideas, much less for his common sense, and so he shrugged away any lingering doubt as he surrendered to the feeling of Eddie’s hands.

«Held In Contempt» AO3 // tumblr ↬ word count: 3044 | rating: E

Richie and Eddie resolve the sexual tension between them after arguing about one of their cases.

prompt: “okay but reddie au where they’re rival lawyers and court is really tense bc eddie goes by the books and richie is Richie and ofc they end up fucking after a particularly heated case…or 6…”

«How to Know If You’re On a Date With Your Best Friend» AO3 // tumblr ↬ word count: 2213 | rating: T

He could see the way Richie looked at him with furrowed eyebrows, eyes slowly widening as he realized Eddie was coming over to sit next to him. Plopping down on the seat, he pushed Richie further into the booth, making himself comfortable. Without breaking eye contact, he placed his straw in Richie’s milkshake glass and asked, “Are we on a date right now?”

«Kiss Me By The Firelight» AO3 // tumblr ↬ word count: 1247 | rating: T

“Alright trashmouth, truth or dare?”

He looked over at Beverly, who had plopped down next to him, with a weary expression on his face. He studied her, the mischievous grin on her face not going unnoticed by an already alert Richie.

“Dare, obviously. Only pussies choose truth.”

«Kissed the Mark» AO3 // tumblr ↬ word count: 3975 | rating: E

“Sorry, but you’re gonna have to tell me more than just your name before I let you put your hands on me.” Eddie jokes as he nods his head at Bev in thanks for their drinks. “I’m not that easy.”

“Oh ok, hmm let me think…” Richie says as he pretends to think about what he’s going to say “I like long walks on the beach and being the little spoon, plus I’m a total bottom.”

Eddie flushes at this, turning his head to avoid eye contact with Richie, and takes a sip of his beer. Richie continues to look at him, enjoying the way he continuously makes the other man blush. “What about you?”

«Love Me (If That’s What You Wanna Do)» AO3 // tumblr ↬ word count: 1286 | rating: M

It was hard to say who exactly started it. After all, both of them were slightly tipsy the night The Kiss happened. All Richie could say—as his hand slowly slid down Eddie’s back, causing him to let out a faint whimper—was that he was very happy with the outcome of it all.

«Make It Up To You» AO3 // tumblr ↬ word count: 4612 | rating: E

Maybe it was a little fucked up that he took considerable pleasure in watching his boyfriend of almost ten years cry as Richie denied him what he wanted most, but he couldn’t bring himself to care so much. If Eddie had caught on to his little guilty pleasure, he never mentioned it to Richie, and if he had an issue with the way Richie teased him in bed, he would have definitely called him out on it by now.

«Snowed Inn» AO3 // tumblr ↬ word count: 4612 | rating: E

Richie and Eddie are carpooling home from college for the holidays but a snowstorm hits on their way there and they have to stay the night at a b and b.

«The Future Freaks Me Out» AO3 // tumblr ↬ word count: 932 | rating: T

“I’ll tell you one thing and one thing only spaghetti. I don’t want to think about a future where you’re not in it. I don’t want to think about you being on the opposite side of this country from me. I don’t want to think about any of that because I love you and it hurts. So please, shut the fuck up about college applications already!”

«Until I Hear It From You» AO3 // tumblr ↬ word count: 1599 | rating: T

“M-my parents sucked.” Bill said as he choked back a sob. “I mean… my own father hit me with his fucking car and then barely batted an eye. I’m terrified that I’ll fuck this up, Eddie. I don’t want to be a bad father, I want Ellie to have all the love and attention that Georgie and I never got growing up. You and Rich have two adorable daughters that have everything they could ever want…That’s what I want for Ellie. Please, Eddie, tell me how to be a good father.”

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

♡PROMPTS♡

Hanslon ↬“I finally found you”

Reddie ↬ 🎉👄🤒 ↬ 🐿🍌👙 ↬ “Why haven’t you kissed me yet?” + 2. Road Trip AU ↬ “H-How long have you been standing there?” ↬ “You’re sick, let me take care of you.” ↬ “You make me want things I can’t have!” ↬ the gang is playing a drinking game and Eddie wins, and he wants a lapdance from Richie ↬ “You know you don’t have to try so hard with me, right?” ↬ “Are you jealous? That’s cute.” ↬ “Oh, God. We broke it–dude, he’s gonna be so pissed! This is all your fault–it was your idea!” + “… Is that my underwear?” + “Shut up and kiss me, you idiot.” ↬ “they said that broken mirror equals in 7 years of bad luck”? ↬ “It’s three in the morning!” ↬ “just because i love eds it doesn’t mean i want to be with him,” eddie heard richie say. «2» ↬ “you know I love you, right?” «2» ↬ “Do you want me to?” «2» ↬ “And what exactly do you think you’re doing, my love?” ↬ You’ve literally dressed as __ for __ years, shouldn’t you change it up? ↬ You drank the punch at the halloween party and made yourself sick so I’m taking care of you ↬ excuse you, i will never be too old to go trick-or-treating and i hear the house down the street gives out full sized candy bars ↬ In the bedroom + Confessing feelings ↬ in the snow + relief ↬ claws - as an apology here’s something I wrote for you ↬ Okay but like Richie finally comes out by writing his first comedy special on his own as like therapy to work through what happened and the whole thing is about the dumb annoying hypochondriac that he was in love with as a kid. “He put his feet in my face and kicked of my glasses and I said to myself he’s the fucking one.” ↬ ficlet for my moodboard based on “he knew well enough” ↬ “I may be short, but you could at least try to make kissing you easier!” ↬ “One baby won’t hurt.” ↬ “I could spend hours just looking at you.”

Richiepat ↬ “you asked me out and I didn’t have time for dating between a full-time course load and my job(s), so I know it’s two semesters later but I’d really like to take you up on that date” + “we always end up eating alone in the school cafeteria at the same time, so when you ask me if you can join me, I’m surprised” ↬ chaotic best friends (platonic with stanpat/reddie) ↬ “My hoodie looks comfy on you.” (platonic with side reddie)

Stanpat ↬ you’re obsessed with my homemade soup that I serve at my cafe and I’m too embarrassed to tell you that I’ve only been trying out new recipes to see you get excited for the soup of the day.

Stanpatchie ↬ “a kiss as a promise”

Steddie ↬ “I catch you yelling at the printer in the library for not working and I don’t mean to alarm you since you’re clearly stressed, but I think you accidentally unplugged it”

Stozier ↬ “some idiots decided it would be funny to mess with peoples’ laundry so now we’re sorting through our dryers and you’re holding up my pink underwear” ↬ “I know you’re mad at me, but will a kiss change your mind?” ↬ “Nothing is going to happen to you.” ↬ can we talk about how “it takes hours to look this good richie” is followed by richie winking at stan

Streddie ↬ A cat followed me home and won’t leave me alone even when I put a little hat on it so I guess I have a cat now AU

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

♡HEADCANONS♡

↬ Ben // The Sims ↬ Reddie // Sunflowers ↬ Reddie // Chapter 1 End Scene ↬ Stozier and Reddie // Stanley and Richie dated at one point

[mvriin-blog]

━━━  BLAKE LIVELY. TWENTY NINE. CISFEMALE. SHE/HER. ↷ do you hear palm dreams, by hayley kiyoko? that must be marin beaufort. she has been living in san francisco as a lifeguard for seven years. during that time they have earned the reputation of the heliophilic. it makes sense you know, they can be headstrong and devil-may-care but let’s not forget they’re pretty effervescent and sagacious.

hi lovelies! the name’s caro (she/her), i’m 20 and i live in the boring old est timezone — it has been the longest 48 hours of my life, since my family’s moving and we’ve had a time and a half getting things set up. but, i’ve been itching to get back into roleplaying for awhile now and i figured this group was too beautiful to pass up! i haven’t had time to set up any of her pages yet (we literally just got internet 4 hours ago, lmao) so that’ll be a task for later on in the week, but for the time being, there’s a bit about marin beneath the cut that should do the trick! i love plots so please feel free to hmu in the ims xx

marin (pronounced muh-RINN) was born and raised on the east coast, just her and her father. her father was a fisherman off the coast of rhode island, and she spent quite a great deal of time on the waters. could swim before she could walk. wanted to be a mermaid when she grew up. her most prized possession is a shark tooth necklace her father’s brother gave her for christmas one year after a trip to hawaii, and still to this day she never takes it off.

the two of them lived in a small coast-town, and marin’s father didn’t want for her to get pigeonholed there like he had. rhode island was meant to be a stepping stone for them, but he’d wound up getting stuck there after her mother abandoned them when marin was four months old. everyone knew everyone in town, so marin was something like a big fish in a small pond, and was rather content with that. her father wanted so badly for her to utilize her potential and get out when the time for college came - he pushed her hard academically so she’d be able to go somewhere outside of RI on scholarship, and marin wound up graduating valedictorian of her class. she decided on cal state long beach for college, majoring in marine biology - can take the girl away from one ocean, can’t take the ocean away from the girl. 

marin felt much more at ease in long beach despite missing her father terribly  - he was her partner in crime, the best friend she’d ever had - as she’d always been an independent spirit and able to function in a place where she knew nobody (something her father claimed she got from her mother). marin thrived in california. she made plenty of friends, partied a fair bit, learned how to surf, and really felt like she’d found her place in the world. beneath it all she had a plan, and was determined to stick to it: she’d get her masters, maybe even a phd, find a job where she’d make enough money that her father could retire and move out west with her.

her senior year of college was a disaster, to put it shortly. before fall semester started, marin’s father revealed that he had been diagnosed with lymphoma. she’d been adamant about taking the semester off to stay home and take care of him, but he’d been just as stubborn about her going off to school and finishing her degree. she’d gone (nearly kicking and screaming) and had an awful semester, barely staying afloat in her classes, grateful when it was time to come back home for winter break. he’d declined rapidly to her horror, and she was insistent she not go back for the spring. it wasn’t what he wanted though, and she inherited his stubbornness - he wanted her to go. she went begrudgingly, making plans to come home at any potential break in the semester she could find. it crushed the both of them when he wasn’t able to come out for her graduation, just like they’d planned. she came back home that summer to spend time with her father, and he wound up passing away that july.

after her father’s passing, someone on marin’s mother’s side of the family reached out. she was informed that she had a younger sister, and marin’s struggled with that revelation ever since. she was given her contact information, and it sits at the back of a drawer in her bedroom while she still continues deliberating on whether or not she should reach out. it’s been y e a r s, lmao, but marin has a lot of mixed feelings on it and doesn’t know if she even wants to let that into her life. her father’s passing was incredibly hard on her, and she got good at being the only family she needed, picking any other family she felt she wanted from the people she met after moving to san francisco. ( for the time being, i’ll write this as a npc until someone picks up the wc ! )

san francisco was where her father ultimately wanted to move out to, and marin decided she’d move there after the funeral to feel a little closer to his spirit. she’s been there for the last seven years.

diagnosed with celiac disease at the age of eighteen, marin made it an effort to start a healthier lifestyle. even though her metabolism was already fairly high and she hadn’t shown any other signs of an unhealthy body, marin wanted to make sure that it wasn’t an option. she became a dietary vegan shortly after graduating high school and started an intense workout regimen consisting of an hour to two hour run each morning on the beach, as well as taking up pilates, and has kept up with it over the years.

despite having her degree in marine bio, marin found a job working as beach patrol when she moved to san francisco and fell in love with it. she can’t imagine herself doing anything differently anymore, even if it is a job that only works from march to november. money is not something that marin has ever been consumed with ; marin values happiness and contentment in her soul than she does financial stability. in the off seasons (and on the side) marin works as a freelance photographer.

she’s the heliophilic, which is basically someone that’s attracted or drawn to sunlight. obviously, spending as much time on the beach that she does, she loves being in the sun, but i feel like marin is an embodiment of sunlight, in a way ; she’s warm and loves being surrounded by other people, going out, making every second of her life count (a cruel lesson she learned from her father’s passing). 

marin’s very good at getting other people to let her in but she’s not very good at letting others in, tbh. she’s also super headstrong, like you can’t tell her anything once she’s made her mind up and is a lil bit on the reckless side?? she’ll do what she wants because life’s too short and sometimes that’s dangerous - it leads to her accidentally hurting people or making mistakes that have heavy repercussions, and when that happens, she has NO idea how to cope with it (or rather, she does, it’s just not a very good way to cope, lol)

i want every single connection or plot there is so please like this and i’ll pop in your ims 

and if you read this far: the reason this stupid vine is my ooc tag is bc i have an ex named kyle who is a piece of trash and that vine is a p accurate description of how i feel about him…..plus it just makes me laugh ok going now

[spine-buster]

Chapter 11 - The Beginning and the End of Everything (Finn Balor)

“Gemma, last time I checked it was only your knee that was injured, not your hands!” Nabilah Saad-Fitzgerald scolded her daughter with a knife in one hand and a bowl of strawberries in another.  Gemma would have been scared if this scene hadn’t happened countless times growing up.  “Come sit at the table and cut these strawberries!”

Sitting on the couch in her living room, watching hockey commentators speak on the upcoming IIHF World Junior Hockey Tournament, Gemma rolled her eyes.  “Mama, I’m watching TV!” she called back.  

“You mean you don’t watch TV in Florida?” Nabilah asked sarcastically, waving the knife around.  “Could have fooled me!  You can’t tell me the World Juniors aren’t on in Florida with your satellite TV!”

Gemma snorted at her mother’s words.  Gemma never got away with anything while she was home.  She’d never win against Nabilah – she never did.  Nabilah was the queen of the house; even her dad acquiesced to her.  “Can you at least bring them here so I can cut them?”

“Sixteen years and she hasn’t changed one bit,” he mother muttered in Arabic as she brought the strawberries over to the coffee table for Gemma to cut, setting them down in front of her daughter.  “If you get any stains on the couch I won’t feed you for a week, understand?”

Gemma couldn’t help but snort again at her mother’s threat.  “Yes mama, I understand,” Gemma said, learning forward so she could grab the knife.  “I’ve never gotten a stain on our couches before, I’m not going to now.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” Nabilah nodded her head, walking away.  “I’ll be in the kitchen.  Call me when you’re done.”

Gemma had been back for about a week now, at her parents’ home – the home she grew up in.  Her physiotherapy had stopped for about two weeks over the holidays and when she went back to Orlando in the New Year, her surgeon and doctors would be doing a full check-up and review of her injury and her progress to date.  She was excited, if only because they would be able to give her a more accurate timeline as to when she could get back on the ice.  She didn’t want it to preoccupy her mind too much, especially over the holidays, but she thought about it a lot.  Probably too much.  

The holidays were her favourite time of the year, if only because her house was filled with family.  Her parents always hosted Christmas, ever since she could remember.  The house was full of family members young and old, big and small, and Gemma loved the craziness of it all.  Growing up as an only child meant she was close to her cousins, considering them like siblings, her original best friends (before she met Jane, of course).  Now that a lot of her cousins her age were getting married and having kids, the family was growing, and she was all too happy to be surrounded by toddlers and babies.  

“So, what’s Fergal up to for the holidays?” her father James asked as he set the table for the numerous guests – the extension and extra tables came all the way out to the living room.  This was usually a job left for Gemma but Nabilah didn’t want her making 100 trips to and from the basement to get the extra plates.  

“He’s back in Ireland,” Gemma informed him, catching the look her mom gave him, a smile playing on Nabilah’s face.  Gemma wanted to roll her eyes.  “I mentioned he has a big family, right?  There’s five siblings, and they’re all married except for him, so there’s a bunch of them.”

“How lovely,” her mom piped in.  “Have you two spoken at all since you came back?”

They were basically on a constant chat on WhatsApp, despite the time difference, but Gemma didn’t want to admit that.  “Here and there,” she lied.  “He’s busy catching up with all his friends, I bet.  Plus he isn’t the type to be attached to his phone.”

“So all that texting you’ve been doing has been to Jane?” her dad asked. “Yeah,” she lied again, “and Sarah, and Amber, and Jocelyn,” she rattled off the names of some of her teammates as cover.  

“So this Fergal fellow,” Nabilah piped in again.  “Does he follow hockey?” Gemma snorted.  “Mom, he’s from Ireland.”

“So?”

“The Irish aren’t exactly known for their love of hockey,” Gemma said.  “Hurling, maybe, but not hockey.”

“So he didn’t know who you were when you met?”

“He had no idea.  One of his best friends who is Canadian clued him in.”

“But now, he watches you?”

“Well, there isn’t exactly anything new to watch,” Gemma mumbled.  “But I have no idea if he’s seen any of my games or tournaments.  He hasn’t really mentioned it, to be honest.”

“You should make sure he does, so he sees how good you are,” Nabilah pointed dramatically at her daughter.  

Gemma smiled at her mom.  “If I won a gold medal, I think he knows, mama.” “Do you miss him?” James asked suddenly.

Another thing Gemma had to lie about.  She’d never admit it out loud but she missed him like crazy.  After their Ireland, Iceland, and England trip, she caught herself thinking about him more and more everyday; his contagious laugh, his toothy smile, the Finn-freeze he’d do in pictures.  She missed it all.  And she never thought she would.  “I mean, a little bit, obviously.  He is my friend.  But I missed Jane more.”

James smiled at Nabilah, wondering who Gemma was trying to convince more. 

With the Christmas meal done, Gemma felt like she was about to explode.  A mix of traditional food and Arab food was enjoyed by all, and now, almost all the adults were either passed out on the couch in a food coma, or sitting at the table trying to recover from one.  Most of the babies and toddlers had gone down for the afternoon nap, which meant all the adults still had about two hours before they’d start to wake up.  

Lunch was eventful.  One of her cousins Aidan, only two years older than her, announced to everyone he finally proposed to his long-time girlfriend Summer, which meant a wedding was on the horizon in about a year.  Another cousin, Hannah, revealed she was pregnant with her second child, which is why she couldn’t partake in the traditional champagne toast.

Then, of course, there was an event created by Gemma’s own stupidity.  She, of course, had been texting Fergal all day, and it had continued throughout lunch, albeit in much slower conversation since she didn’t respond immediately.  But when she had sent him a joke and he had responded with a quick remark, she couldn’t help but smile down at her phone screen in her lap.  And that’s when it happened.

Her aunt Eliza asked why she was smiling down at her phone.  Gemma stuttered.  The table went silent and every single pair of eyes was on her as they awaited her answer.  When she finally admitted it was a friend, a friend named Fergal whom she met in Orlando, a tidal wave of questions flooded her.  Who’s Fergal?  Where’d you meet him?  What’s he do?  What’s he look like?  He’s got an accent?  He’s from Ireland?  Where in Ireland?  What’s his last name?  What’s his blood type?  What was the name of his third grade teacher?  What size shoes does he wear?  Where does he get his hair cut?

It overwhelmed Gemma, but it was nothing she hadn’t faced before.  The same flurry of questions were asked when they learned of her last boyfriend, Johnny, an employee of the Toronto Maple Leafs head office.  They were together for two years before breaking it off mutually.  Still, she didn’t want her entire family finding out about him, especially not now, at Christmas dinner, and especially since there was nothing to really talk about.  They were friends, and that’s it.

Friends.  But then, when her friend got wind that she was finished lunch, and he suggested he call her, that little grin that incriminated her during lunch incriminated her again.  She didn’t even have to tell her mom what was going on.  When she stood up from her chair and was going to explain, Nabilah just waved her off, telling her to go in to the bedroom that the kids weren’t sleeping in.

Dialling his number, he answered on the second ring.  “Hey you,” he said warmly.  “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas to you too,” Gemma repeated his sentiment.  He wondered if he could sense the giant grin on her face through the phone.  “How are you?  Miss my grumpy attitude yet?”

Fergal snorted.  “Pretty pooped, but I wouldn’t have gone to bed without calling you,” he revealed.

“Oh God, what time is it there?” 

“It’s only nine.  But I seriously did so much today I’m ready to pass out.  We opened presents, had lunch, took a walk ‘round the neighbourhood, then walked to the beach, then came back and made hot cocoa…” he rattled off.  It all sounded amazing to her.  “What about you?”

Gemma huffed.  “I got interrogated because of you,” she scolded him playfully.  “Twenty-five people asking ‘Who’s Fergal?  What’s a Fergal?  Where’d you meet him?  What’s he do?  Where is he?’”

“That’s funny, because the only questions anyone here asked me were ‘Where’s Gemma?  How’s Gemma?  Who’s she with?  What’s she doing?’  It’s like I don’t even exist!”

“I’m sorry you’re so jealous of me, but I can’t help it that I’m popular,” she used a line from Mean Girls, causing Fergal to laugh.  “Maybe we should have switched families for the holidays.  Clearly they only care about the opposite person.”

“Clearly.”

There was a pause in their conversation before Gemma heard Fergal’s voice again.  “Hey Gem?”

“Yeah?”

“I do kinda miss you.”

She could feel her cheeks flush red.  “I miss you too, Ferg.”

As they continued their conversation, Gemma wondered if, hundreds of miles away, if he could sense her curling up into a ball, listening to his accent like she hadn’t heard it in years, a small contended smile on her face.  She knew there was nothing she’d rather be doing right now.  

It was all a blur to Fergal.  Here he was, standing at the baggage claim at Pearson International Airport in Toronto.  He’d call a cab to take him to the Saad-Fitzgerald house.  He’d be seeing Gemma in just over an hour, if everything went smoothly.  

How did he end up here?  Well, it all happened so quickly.  After a few more phone calls to and from Gemma throughout the week leading up to New Year’s Eve, it was obvious to everyone around him, especially his parents, that Fergal was missing her more than he let on.   Then, after spending New Years Eve with his friends, he had a quiet breakfast with his parents, where his mom told him, “If you want to go Ferg, you can go.  You left me for Japan at 24…we’ve been doing this dance for over ten years.  I don’t mind you leaving.”

And so that night, he booked the first flight out from Dublin to Toronto.  Now, he found himself at the door of 245 Briar Hill Avenue in Toronto, knocking, his shoes covered in snow.  He didn’t notice a car in the driveway, and hoped to God someone was home.  He was cold and the taxi had already driven away.  He didn’t know where else he could go.

Thankfully, he heard the rattle of a lock and chain a few moments later, and the door was opened.  An older woman, wearing glasses and a cozy looking sweater opened the door.  “Hello?”

Fergal smiled charmingly.  “Hi, you must be Nabilah Fitzgerald?”

“I speak to you Jehovah’s Witnesses once three years ago and you still remember my name!” she yelled out, waving her finger at him, about the close the door.

“Oh no!  No no!  It’s not – I’m not – no!  My name’s Fergal – I know your daughter Gem --”

“Fergal!!  Fergal from Orlando!” Nabilah exclaimed, swinging the door open.  “Fergal!  Come inside from this cold!  Come come come!  In in in! Inside!  Inside!” Nabilah all but pulled him into the foyer, closing the door behind him.  “Where are your boots?!” she demanded, looking down at his paltry Vans sneakers.

Overwhelmed, his mouth gaped open, and he said the only thing that came to his mind.  “I’m Irish.”

Nabilah nodded her head in understanding, as if that was a legitimate excuse.  “Ah yes, of course.  You weren’t expecting the snow.”

“No I wasn’t.”

“I’ve been in this country thirty years and even I don’t expect it sometimes,” she joked.  “What are you doing in Toronto?”

What was he doing in Toronto?  Showing up announced to the Saad-Fitzgerald residence, apparently.  “I uh, I came to surprise Gemma.”

Nabilah had a toothy grin on her face.  “Ah yes, of course,” she said knowingly.  “Take off your shoes.  Come by the fire to warm up.  Gemma and her father are out but they should be back in less than an hour.”  As he took off his shoes and followed her into the house, she kept talking to him.  “You want something hot to drink?  Some hot chocolate?  Some coffee – oh no, you’re Irish, you must drink tea!  I’ve got a lot of tea --”

“Mrs. Fitzgerald, it’s no bother --” he tried to wave her off.

“Bother?!  What bother!  It’s nothing!  I fill a kettle with water and I put it on a stove!  Nothing!” she kept exclaiming.  “You sit on the couch and warm up.  You’re not used to our winters and I don’t want your blood to freeze.”

Once Nabilah prepared the tea, she brought it over and settled into polite conversation with Fergal.  She asked about his family, the holidays, and he answered all her questions earnestly.  She told him the story of how she met James, how long they had lived in this house, and what Gemma was like as a kid, pointing to some family portraits in frames and pictures of her in her first ever hockey uniform that were on display on the fireplace mantle.  She was about to break out a family photo album before they heard the garage door begin to open.   

“That’s them,” Nabilah said, standing up from the couch and bringing their mugs into the kitchen.  “She’ll be happy to see you, Fergal, even if she doesn’t show it.”

It was at that moment Fergal realized that Nabilah was probably acutely aware of the issues Gemma was having with her injury.  He couldn’t form another thought before he heard her voice call out throughout the house.  “Maaaaa!  Dad still has some bags in the car!”

“I’ll be right out!” Nabilah called back, barely making a move from the kitchen. He heard the door shut, and the rustling of bags, before the squeak of some old floorboards in the stairs that signalled Gemma was on her way towards them.  When she finally ascended the stairs, she still didn’t notice him, too preoccupied with making sure the bags didn’t break from the weight.

“Hey,” he said plainly to get her attention.

She stopped dead in her tracks, her head whipping over to him.  “Ferg?!” she set down her bags.  “What are you doing here?!”

“I thought I’d come to Canada in the dead of winter for a vacation,” he joked as he watched her make her way over to him.  

She embraced him tightly, throwing her arms around him tightly and squeezing him against her body.  He reciprocated, wrapping his arms around her too in a tight hug.  “I missed you,” she said, loud enough so he could hear but not her mother in the kitchen.

“I missed you too,” he whispered, squeezing her a bit tighter.  “That’s why I’m here.”  She broke their hug to get a good look at him, as if she still didn’t believe he was there in the living room.  She looked good; well rested, relaxed, her cheeks flushed red, probably from the cold outside.  “You cut your hair,” he smiled.

She rolled her eyes and snorted, dropping her arms from around his shoulders and pushing his chest lightly.  “Why do you notice these things?”

“Who’s this?” a man’s voice filled the air, causing Gemma to spin around.  “Ah, you must be Fergal?”

“Yep, that’s me,” he nodded to who he assumed was James.  “It’s really nice to meet you Mr. Fitzgerald.”

“You’re in for a treat, Fergal.  Big hockey game on tonight.  Canada versus Russia in the semi-finals at the World Juniors,” James smiled, setting down his grocery bags next to where Gemma had set hers down.

“Have you watched hockey with Gemma yet?” Nabilah asked, who was now standing in the entryway from the living room to the kitchen.  

“N-No, I haven’t.  But I’ve seen her play.”

Gemma’s eyes went wide at the revelation.  He’d actually done it – he’d looked her up on the internet.  “You have?”

“Well, yeah.  I looked up your gold medal game – I had to, the way everyone talks about it,” Fergal admitted.

“When?” Gemma asked.

“Long time ago,” Fergal shrugged it off.

“She’s good, isn’t she?” Nabilah winked, clearly proud of her daughter.  

“She is.  Best I’ve ever seen,” Fergal smiled.

“Best of her generation,” Nabilah nodded towards her daughter, who was now blushing yet looked mildly annoyed.  “That’s me and James waking up at 5am to take her to morning practice.”

Fergal laughed as he saw Gemma roll her eyes.  “Yeah, I know the feeling.  My parents would do the same for me for Gaelic football.  I think it killed them a little inside when I chose wrestling instead.”

“Oh, wrestling!  So you do Olympic wrestling then?” James asked.

“Oh no no no.  I wrestling in the WWE, and I used to wrestle in Japan.”

“How awesome!” James exclaimed.

“Where’s your stuff?” Gemma intervened.  She didn’t even give him a chance to answer before she looked at both her parents.  “I’m going to help him set up in the spare room,” she announced.  

Before Fergal could say another word, Gemma began dragging him through the house.  He grabbed his suitcase quickly, never breaking stride, and followed Gemma before reaching what he assumed to be the spare bedroom she had mentioned.  She turned on the light and closed the door behind her after pulling him in.  “Your mother did the same thing to me when she saw me outside with only Vans on,” he joked.

“You’re insane,” she said, but he wasn’t sure if she had heard a word of what he just said.  “What are you doing here?”

“I told you, I missed you,” he repeated his earlier sentiments.  “My mom said I was apparently all mopey around the house…and well, she knew that it would cheer me up if I came over to see you.”

Gemma looked at him like he had three heads.  “Seeing me would cheer you up?”

“Yeah,” Fergal nodded.  “Crazy, right?”

Gemma didn’t say another word.  Instead, she extended her arms out to hug him again, embracing him tightly just as she’d done in the living room a few minutes earlier.  “Ferg, you’re certifiably nuts.”

He snorted.  “Yeah, but the craziest part is…mammy was right.”

Gemma stopped breathing momentarily.  Had he just admitted he was happy being with her?  That he would rather be here, with her, in a snowy and cold Toronto with her parents, rather than at home in Ireland, with his own parents?  God.  

She squeezed him tighter.  A tingle went up her spine as she felt him nuzzle his face into the crook of her neck.  

Fuck.

Friends my ass.

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

Hey!!! 😇 I have read like all fics on your coming out tag page, when you have time can you update them? Today It's my one year anniversary of coming out!!! ☺️☺️☺️ -B

Happy Belated Anniversary! Sorry it’s a little late but we’re so happy we could celebrate with you! Here’s the tag for everyone else. - Anastasia

Taking Bets by S_Horne

(1/1 I 406 I General I Sterek)

“Dad, Mel” Stiles started. “I'm gay.”

With a sudden boost of confidence, Stiles reached a hand out to take a hold of one of Derek's.

“And this is my Derek” he continued, turning his face to meet the other’s gaze.

/

Stiles has a confession for his parents, and they have one for him!

Dream a Little Dream of Me by 42hrb

(1/1 I 830 I Teen I Stanny)

Coach pairs Stiles and Danny in a hotel for a lacrosse trip, it turns out they have some stuff to talk about.

About Damn Time by fancyachatup

(1/1 I 903 I General I Sterek)

It's essentially Teen Wolf, except that there are such things as soulmates.

Deal? by fancyachatup

(1/1 I 921 I General I Sterek)

Only Peter is evil and it's for like 1 sentence. +Basically Sheriff answers a domestic violence call and Stiles hits on Derek while simultaneously coming out.

The Person He Loved In So Many Different Ways by QueenofCrazy

(1/1 I 1,136 I Not Rated I Sciles)

“Bro.” He whispered, hands gripping his knees and fingers tapping. “Bro you uh, you left your porn up on your laptop that I borrowed for my presentation.” Scott felt his face heat up. He knew what porn Stiles was talking about, how could he be so stupid not to check it before giving it to Stiles.

Sourwolves Do it Better by siao

(1/? I 1,406 I Explicit I Sterek)

In another time, in another place, but not exactly as the story still occurs in the much beloved town of Beacon Hills, Stiles Stilinski is a quirky (kind way of saying a walking disaster) teenager just trying to figure out his life in the wake of his parents uncommunicated separation, and being the perpetual third-wheel to his power couple friends Lydia and Jackson that makes him question if their friends because they happened to have playdates in the e-old age or because their parents gave them no choice but to be friends.

And yeah, maybe having sex with a complete stranger in the supply closet at school wasn't his brightest idea - sue him, but how was he supposed to know that his one time fling that he wanks since forth was his English teacher?

Throw in teenage werewolves, alphas, hunters and some kind of demon tree that may or may not be trying to seduce him into being evil and what you got is a whirlwind romance that's not quite legal but profound all the same.

Two Hearts in One Home by TheMipstaz

(1/1 I 1,851 I Explicit I Malia/Kira)

In which Kira bakes 11 pies.

Silver and Cold by inatshej

(1/1 I 2,044 I Mature I Steter)

Stiles admits to himself finally that it is cold, quiet and lonely. It didn't change when he met Peter, but at least he could forget about it. Somehow the thing with Peter ends up hurting him even more.

And The Oscar Goes To by 42hrb

(1/1 I 2,241 I Teen I Sterek)

Being publicly in the closet means Stiles can't go to the Academy Awards with who he really wants, but it's not like he's going to win so he doesn't have to worry about slipping up and thanking Derek in his speech... right?

Outed by smokesforsterek

(1/1 I 2,419 I General I Sterek)

Nancy O’Dell was standing on her chic set but in the background on one of the set pieces was a obviously zoomed in and blurry picture of Derek and Stiles kissing on the beach.Fuck.

or the one where Derek and Stiles are famous and secretly dating, and are caught. So naturally the only thing to do is pretend they're making a movie.

Heavy Is The Head by tragicama

(1/? I 2,574 I Explicit I Sterek)

Heir Prince of France, Derek Hale is tired of his royal life.

When he meets a palace servant named Stiles, everything changes.

Or, the one where Derek falls in love with his own Prince Charming.

Awake by reillyblack

(1/1 I 3,441 I Mature I Sterek)

Stiles was too goddamn old for a sexual awakening.

Never Been Subtle by totallyrandom

(2/2 I 3,886 I Teen I Sterek)

Stiles has something important to tell Scott, but Scott’s not making it easy.

Green Beer and the Howling Wolf by TVTime

(1/1 I 4,152 I Teen I Stisaac)

Stiles, Isaac, and Scott go out drinking for St. Patrick’s Day and Stiles discovers that his hopeless crush on Isaac may not be as hopeless as he thought.

Stiles-centric/Stiles POV, dialogue-heavy college AU story with no powers. Primarily humor with some fluff and Stisaac romance. Alternate character histories. Isaac is Scott's adopted brother.****Stiles held his arms out and turned around in a circle. “I look okay right?”

Scott’s face lit with understanding. “Ah, someone wants to get lucky on St. Paddy’s Day.”

Stiles didn’t deny it, just changed the subject – well, technically he didn’t change the subject, but Scott would think it was a change of subject. “So when’s Isaac getting here?”

Trust by live_laugh_murder

(1/1 I 4,436 I Teen I Steo)

Stiles always knew Theo Raeken couldn't be trusted. But he seems to forget that when the werewolf gets under his skin.

Out in the Open by inmydreams

(1/1 I 5,188 I Teen I Sterek)

Derek Hale, successful actor and Oscar winner, is ready to come out and where better to do it than on his boyfriend's chat show?

Indecent Proposal by lavieboheme0919

(1/1 I 5,432 I Explicit I Stetoper)

Peter and Chris have been married since they were in their twenties. Stiles is introduced to the mix after Peter meets him in the showers at the on-campus gym. All of them love the relationship they're in. Unfortunately none of them know how to explain said relationship to Stiles' dad.

This is the first of a series I'll be working on as I work on my other story, "Gods and Monsters." This one will be heavily focused on sex. If I missed any tags, please let me know. As always, comments welcome and encouraged!

Aparecium by GameCake

(1/1 I 5,446 I Teen I Sterek)

“Hey, Derek, look! Aquamenti!” Stiles yelled laughing.

His laugh though was short-lived as his hand tickled the same time as water shot out of the tip of his fake wand?

What?

“Whatever you did, wherever you found it, put it back!” Derek ordered flashing his alpha crimson eyes.

“Do you really think it is a good idea to leave it here unattended? What if a kid takes it? What if someone said ‘Avada Kedavra’” Stiles defended as he flayed his arms around.

That proved to be another bad choice. His hand buzzed again and lightning escaped the wand and stuck an innocent tree. Which immediately cracked and started decaying to the point that it looked sick and… well… dead.

There were a few bits of silence after that until Derek spoke up. “That’s it! Put it back now.”

*

Or the one where Stiles finds a wand that responds to Harry Potter spells, is apparently a mage and gets a boyfriend out of it.

Don't hate me for who I am by AnnSnape

(2/6 I 5,649 I Mature I Sterek)

It was Christmas when Stiles pack rejected him for being different and Stiles, who turned for the first time, had to run away from his own pack to survive.

Closeted by stilinski_wolf

(2/2 I 7,483 I Teen I Sterek)

Derek is part of a very rich, very conservative - and very homophobic - family, and so he has to hide who he truly is from them.

And then, Derek takes a liking to the new bartender working at the gay bar he frequents, and contemplates coming out to his family.

But his choice is taken out of his hands when his sister Cora follows him one night to the gay bar, changing Derek's life irrevocably.

wolf in the headlights by thedeathlyalpha

(1/1 I 7,581 I Teen I Scisaac)

When Scott finds out that Derek has added a member to the pack, he can't believe it.

When he discovers who it is, even worse.

As Scott becomes closer to Isaac, feelings develop and the lines blur, making everything just seem so confused.

Getting To Know Me Getting To Know You by alternativename

(3/? I 9,477 I Mature I Steter)

In an Omega verse where Stiles has never really felt comfortable in his own skin, he seeks out the company of other Omegas to help him make sense of the world they live in.

Meeting Peter Hale however was totally unplanned, and so was everything that happened from the moment they met.

And...Action! by defenselesswriter

(5/? I 9,632 I Explicit I Sterek)

"Not looking for casual hookups. Sorry, bro. Most codependent independent person you will ever meet. Part-time actor, full-time asshole who coincidentally preaches positivity. Worst bowler in the world after my best friend. Looking for a guy whose first thought isn’t ‘Can I put my dick in one of his orifices?’ Also super hella bi and might be down for a threesome.”

Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes by huffleluff

(1/1 I 21,866 I Teen I Allydia)

If you had asked Allison Argent if she was straight two months ago, she would have said yes. Now, she isn't so sure.

On her eighteen birthday, she receives the name of her soul mate via a mark on her wrist: seventeen year old Lydia Martin. Her sense of identity suddenly gone, Allison must deal with her feelings for her best friend, her preacher father's homophobia, and learning to love herself for who she truly is--preferably before Lydia's eighteenth birthday in just one year's time.

There's Nothing That I Wouldn't Do (I Found My Way Back To You) by SuperMARVELous

(5/5 I 51,051 I Mature I Sterek)

Four times Derek and Stiles pass each other by and the one time they find their way back to each other.

The Payoff Pitch by Leslie_Knope

(12/12 I 83,974 I Explicit I Sterek)

Derek is on the cusp of his second season with the LA Dodgers, and as the reigning runner-up Rookie of the Year, the pressure’s on him to become the team’s star pitcher and lead them to the playoffs for the first time in five years. He’s trying to deal with the burden of expectations and really has zero desire to spend any extra time or energy on anything that isn’t baseball.

But then he meets Stiles.

Building a Better Chimera: Part Two by Uthizaar

(21/21 I 200,638 I Explicit I Steo I MCD)

Theo returns to Beacon Hills with the task of guiding and protecting Stiles as he becomes one of the most powerful chimeras alive...Well that was the Dread Doctor's plan. Theo has a different idea, and Stiles fits nicely into it, not merely as a fellow chimera, but as something more. Of course, Stiles not being aware of his abilities is but one small obstacle... 

[a-phantombones]

I’m late with these intros but they’re all made with love. Here’s an intro for Riley Hayes-Goldstein! TRIGGERS: parental abandonment, mentions of drugs and alcohol. 

MARGARET QUALLEY? No, that’s actually RILEY HAYES-GOLDSTEIN. About to begin SEVENTH YEAR, this HUFFLEPUFF student is sided with THE LIGHTNING INSURGENCY/THE NEUTRALS. SHE identifies as CIS FEMALE and is a HALFBLOOD who is known to be PESSIMISTIC, RESERVED, and SARDONIC but also WITTY, INTELLIGENT, and MORALLY RESPONSIBLE.

“In my mind I am eloquent; I can climb intricate scaffolds of words to reach the highest cathedral ceilings and paint my thoughts. But when I open my mouth, everything collapses.”

LIKES & INTERESTS: Cult Classics - Movies ( Heathers, Dead Poets Society, Sixteen Candles, Ferris Buellers Day Off, Cruel Intentions, The Breakfast Club, Almost Famous ), Blue raspberry Slushies, Donuts, Judaism, Arctic Monkeys, Lana Del Rey, The Smiths, the color blue, writing poetry, e. e. cummings, art museums, greek mythology, rmemes, olling joints on her favorite books, biblical mythology, astronomy, astrology ( she finds it very entertaining in a mocking way and would never admit there’s a small part of her that enjoys it ), Star Wars, black cats, black cats named Boggart, black nail polish, tattoos, carnivals, comic books, ferris wheels, puns, the sea, jellyfish, NPR every morning, going to the beach at twilight, 4 am drives, 5am runs, spliff.

POSITIVE TRAITS: Observant, Cooperative, Strategic, Witty, Intelligent, Resilient, Responsible.

NEGATIVE TRAITS: Reserved, Pessimistic, Sardonic, Secretive, Curious ( it will get her into trouble ), Awkward, Suspicious.

When you meet Riley Hayes, a picturesque childhood in a picturesque suburbia is not what you would expect and yet it was exactly what she had. Born on the cusp of summer and fall, Rachel and Christopher were over the moon to have their daughter born on August 28, 1999. Finally, a child to complete the perfect family unit. Maybe they had hoped for a boy despite what science said ( hence the name Riley & a full name for a boy they had prepared ) but, they had a daughter and for the first ten years of her life they pampered her greatly. Trips to the coast every summer to visit his side of the family where Riley was praised for being such a pretty, good girl, and what seemed like infinite love from her father was doled out as long as she was what he wanted her to be. The younger girl was cooperative, it was in her nature it seemed, because she loved seeing her parents happy with each other. As long as Riley stayed within the lines, stayed within Christopher’s lines at least, everything would be well. Even when Riley started to develop a few habits and interests that were off the wall, he brushed them aside as childhood obsessions. Never could he accept his family for what they were which is exactly why he left.

The ugly truth was, Riley was an accident and the picture painted had been a lie – not that Riley knew until then. While she knew they had gotten married young she’d never known how much exactly her mother had given up to be with her father. Rachel Hayes had left her family, forsaken her religion ( as Christopher was a very religious Christian man ), the semi famous Goldstein name, and moved across the country into this suburbia all with the promise of a family. The biggest thing? Magic. When Christopher left a year before Riley entered Hogwarts school, Riley was forced to grow up and pick up the pieces of a broken lost woman who simply couldn’t find herself in the rubble that was the aftermath of her father leaving. But finding out she was an accident was the least of her worries. No matter how much poetry she wrote trying to figure out her mind, oftentimes thinking she was losing it, something within her was different, something within her felt different.

It took a few months to coax the why from her mother, and truly she was her caretaker. It wasn’t until her 11th birthday when she got the letter from Ilvermony that she realized what exactly was off. When she confronted her mother – her mother just poured everything out to her. Who Riley was, who her family was, what she was doing with her life before she met Christopher. At first, Riley couldn’t believe it – – she’d grown up hiding comics under her bed, hiding anything about the supernatural away. Even if her whole life she had felt a weird pull to these people who didn’t belong in her comics, these freaks, she never in her wildest dreams thought she was one. It all made sense though, and finally the pieces of her life started to come together. Riley knew what she had to do, so at the age of 11, she went with her mother to Wizarding NYC to try to find out more. To try to find the family her mother left behind.

After that, everything fell into place – her family was beyond accepting, even if they gave her shit, more than she’d ever knew and her mom started to get better as she become more true to herself. The family reconciled, helping Riley and Rachel move into a flat in NYC, in Chinatown. Rachel got a job at the ministry as an assistant and with the help of some family members and Riley started to prepare for school Wizarding School. She’d never been more happy in her life. New York City was her home, more than her podunk shitty town ever had, and she felt a freedom that made her wander the city, she felt a freedom to finally be herself. The only issue then? Riley wanted to go to a school far away from everything, because even if New York was her home, she needed to a break from being in the states. A break from all these people who knew who her family was & really, a place that was her own to find her own place in the world. Easily, she picked Hogwarts and was delighted when they accepted her no matter how far she was.  

For years, she pushed away a lot of the pain she felt – she figured her pain was her own, it was selfish of her to dwell on it or even think about it when she had this new fantastic life. Only in her poetry would she divulge her feelings, only her poetry knew that she felt inexplicably lost in the world the more she saw it. Before Riley was to turn 14, a boy, who claimed to be her brother showed up on her doorstep. Not soon after, her father was there looking for him. Rachel and Riley didn’t know how to process this all but one thing they knew was that they couldn’t let Ellis go back to him. Go back to his horrible environment. Seeing as Ellis was of legal age – they kicked Christopher’s ass out the door and though he tried to put up a fight, they were finally a family, Ellis included, and they fought harder. It was then that Riley wanted to distance herself from her father even more, fiercely signing and writing her last name as Hayes-Goldstein or just Goldstein when she could get away with it. 

The thing was, the reminder of her father, the reminder that he was out there ruining more people’s lives, that he was out there spawning more children really intensely messed with Riley’s head. Why wasn’t she good enough for him to stay? Why couldn’t they have been enough? It was stupid, but the thoughts started to consume her and the lost feeling just got bigger. Picking up vices like smoking, smoking pot, drinking beer like she was her own father after a long day of work, anything to escape the feeling that she didn’t really have a place in this world. Not one she could see. A loneliness she could not shake slept with her at night like any blanket did, every day felt like she was smothered. Every day there was a new realization that she didn’t know what the hell she wanted to do with her life, and that she didn’t really have a place in the world. When Kingsley Shacklebolt was murdered and the climate in the Wizarding World of England became a developing war zone, Riley wanted nothing to do with it but because of who she was -- because of what her religion reminded of her -- she couldn’t just stand idly by. Riley knew that even if she was Neutral, she would fight with her friends if need be, and give information to the Lightining Insurgency because it was the right thing to do. 

RILEY & JUDAISM:

Judaism was once a rarely talked about religion in the Hayes house, in fact, Riley knew barely anything about the religion at all. If she had realized it was taboo instead, it would’ve been something she would’ve dipped her mind into much earlier. The Hayes family were church goers, Sundays, Easter, Christmas, that was the religious practice they followed and had been since Rachel Hayes had forgone her roots in Judaism. Once she married & became Mrs. Christopher Hayes, she lost the part of her that made her her,that connected her to her family, all because of a pregnancy that was unplanned, and a marriage that needed to happen in result of it.

Once Christopher left, Riley dug up old numbers, old things, anything she could find that would bring her mother back to herself. Here, the woman gave so much of herself to her father and Riley felt she needed to get some of her back. Anything would do, anything at all. When Riley found an old Siddur, stuffed in the back of her mother’s side of the closet, she had a pretty good idea of a way to start.

It started with looking at temples. The first month, Riley’s mom drove into Bethesda, Maryland. All the two did was walk around, taking in the city itself. Taking in the fact that there were even so many people in one place as opposed to nasty Bellbrook, Virginia where they lived. Taking in people coming back synagogue, the dress, and while it was painful at first for her mom, Rachel slowly started to explain to Riley different things, different details about Judaism. Soon, Riley and Rachel learned together and go at least once a month for Saturday evening services as well as for most High Holidays.

Riley’s favorite Jewish holiday is Yom Kippur: the day of Atonement. While she knows she had absolutely no control over being born, she does feel she has a lot to atone for. A lot to cleanse from her soul. Her poetry may be fair game – it’s raw, it’s unforgiving and it’s brutal – to herself & to others. For being what she is, for being something else other than human and purposefully standing by while others cause havoc – she feels she needs to cleanse & atone for that. It’s the day that she for once feels clean, cleansed and not like the figure from Greek mythology: Atlas.

ADDITIONAL INFO:

I once called her a Memelord Shitstain. I stand by that.

If Lana Del Rey and Weird Al’ Yankovic did a duet, that would be Riley’s vibe. LOL.

Never learned how to swim really but often dreams of water and loves water a lot.

Has four and half friends, two are NPCs, one of them being her half brother, Ellis and her childhood friend Ethan. The other two are Isa Potter and Gage Hamilton. Though, Riley is open to more friends OKAY PLS she’s just bad with them 

Riley has a natural inclination towards legilimency, her first sign of magic was actually poking around someone’s mind in a grocery store and influencing them to eat a random frozen meal on accident but it’s not a developed skill in the slightest and truthfully Riley doesn’t EVER want to go into it. It’s really not developed it’s just like a fun fact. 

A PLAYLIST FOR RILEY:

How Far I’ll Go ( cover ) by Alessia Cara

Miss America by Ingrid Michaelson

If I Believe You by The 1975

We Exist by Arcade Fire

Fake You Out by Twenty One Pilots

Here by Alessia Cara

Young God by Halsey

What’s Up? by 4 Non Blondes

Stay Awake by London Grammar

Change - Lana Del Rey

[brokenmusicboxwolfe]

I saw:

Wonder Woman- I admit I was almost nervous about seeing this film.

 Wonder Woman was a key figure in my childhood. I had the Ms Magazine book reprinting golden age Wonder Woman comics, held together with packing tape from my carrying it everywhere, that I read and reread. My best friend and I got in the sort of heated debates only five or six get in over what Wonder Woman’s starting pose for “bullets and bracelets” should be. My best friend going with the then running tv show’s crossed wrists seemed silly when you gotta be ready to move, and it wasn’t like that in the original story. We played at being Wonder Woman and made up stories usung our dolls. The only Halloween costume I still have is the Wonder Woman one from back then, an object I take great care of. ** Heck, I still have my dolls, pencil sharpener, puzzle book and the rest of the Amazon Princess gear I gobbled up...

My Mom, whose father never approved of comics, had secretly read them as a little girl back in the 1940s, so approved whole heartedly. In fact Wonder Woman related objects have been a sort of running theke for gifts between us (me giving her a Wonder Woman plush bunny at Easter and her giving me a mug at Christmas being the most recent). 

So if both my mother and I have waited most if our lives and through scores of Batman and Superman movies for a Wonder Woman feature film, why the anxiety?

Well, because despite my love of the concept of Wonder Woman, I have really disliked some of the takes on the character over the years. As a little girl adoring the ‘40s comics and the ‘70s tv show (though the Superfriends take was fine for something so “childish”...I was a mature little tyke! LOL), , I’d tried the comics at the newstand and went “This is stupid!”. I ended up for some years buying it just for the Huntress back up stories. At my first comic store trip at 14 I tried some very cheap battered old copies from like around 1960 and....Ick! NO! But then along came the George Perez run, and here was MY Wonder Woman. I loved the comic during his years, but unfortuantely it wasn’t forever. The new creators had a vision of the character, both in personality and increasingly over appearance, that was dramatically different than me. Over the years tales of her have been a roller coaster...here feminist, there sexist, here a figure of peace, there a snarling war monger. 

So here is the thing, I admit my image of Wonder Woman has been rather specific. I saw her as someone that can kick your ass, but would rather not if she doesn’t have to. Her first interest is peace, despite being prepared before. If talk fails, she will use force out of a need to protect, but that force will be the minimal necessary for the job. As in she would prefer to restrain you than beat you to a bloody pulp. My Wonder Woman would kill as a last resort, shows compassion and kindness and has a sense of humor. She smiles as often as she glowers. I realize this is a reflection of my basic moral code. Did Wonder Woman shape my world view, or did I take to depictions of Wonder Woman that reflected what I believed? 

Which ever, my anxiety came from all those other Wonder Woman versions. The ones that were grim and brutal concerned me more than the old fashioned sexist ones simply because in the modern age the idea of “strength” seems to involve the ability to kill. The recent DC films hadn’t filled me with much hope. Bystanders should matter to a hero (Looking at you “Man of Steel” city smasher, when you could have taken your fight with Zod to a cornfield or the moon or...). A “gritty” Wonder Woman wasn’t something I wanted. 

Luckily it looks like I wasn’t the only one. Not that there isn’t plenty of violence  and our heroine does rack up a body count.

It begins by telling us of Wonder Woman AKA Princess Diana’s childhood, with the only little girl on the island if Amazon’s running off wanting to learn to fight. And OMG! Isn’t the woman chasing after her trying to catch the little scamp Dayna from Blake’s 7?????? Wow! Yep it really was Josette Simon!*** We get to see the child’s over protective mother reluctantly allow her demigod of a daughter get trained. We also see Diana embrace whole completely the legends and ideals of her people. These things always turn out to be a lot more complicated when you grow up...

And grow up she does. A WWI pilot crashes lands at the island, followed by pursued by Germans, leading to bloodshed and a corpse strewn beach in paradise. Finding out about the World War in progress, Diana wants to take the pilot (Steve Trevor, of course) back into the world, partly because he’s gotten a hold of info about a new a deadlier than ever before gas cooked up by a German scientist, a woman with an interesting bit of mask work covering her experimentation damage. Her main reason is the belief that such a war could only be the result of Ares, god of war, and that as an Amazon she is duty bound to stop him. Naturally, her first step in growing up us to defy he parent and go off to do what she believes is right.

Once out in our world Diana is a fish out of water, coping with a world where women don’t even yet have the right to vote and fashions are most definiately not conducive to battle. She is also incredibly innocent, with a sort of adolecent passionate belief in the world as a simply place. Just go to the battle front, kill Ares, and the world will be at peace. And so, through the story, she comes to learn the world is more complicated, but comes through quickly from the dark disillusionment that brings to find again the hope deep within, only now with a more mature understanding behind it.

Or, you know, lots of fighting and CGI work as Wonder Woman leaps over tall buildings in a single bound...oh wait, that’s the guy in blue tights...But she does leap, off the charts strong. There is a detour for brief romance, much to my mother’s annoyance. (My mother grimiced and muttered as the kissing started.) ****And there is the pyrotechnic superbeing versus superbeing ending, plus the emotional blow of a tragic sacrifice.  That sort if thing.

I liked the choice of WWI, not simply because WWII has been done by superhero films already and we are in the anniversary period for that war, but because it was a particularly messy, large and ugly war. It works thematically, both for Diana to assume Ares is behind all of it and to realize humans really are capable of such horrors, without the more simple good guy/ bad guy  dichotomy of WWII. 

On the other hand, I was a bit uncomfortable with how once Steve showed up he became more of the driving force in the story. In a way it makes sense. He has the experience in our world and knows how it works. He would seem the adult to her not yet fully mature personality in this sort of coming of age story. Yet, a few times I was a bit bothered and had a fleeting “SHE is supposed to be the hero of this story!” moments.

Over all I really enjoyed it. It can’t live up to the hype, but that’s okay because nothing ever does. My mother, who is notoriously hard to please when she has an idea of a character, gave this Wonder Woman her endorsement, saying that this one got the kindness as well a strength. But really, I don’t know if I can give a proper verdict when I have so much emotions tied up with the very existance of the film. Watching the first few minutes of the film I noticed I had tears on my cheeks. After 76 years there was FINALLY a Wonder Woman movie, so for now my feeling is just ....“YES!!!!”

**There are no photos of my wearing it. On fact there are no photos of me wearing ANY Halloween costume! What’s up with that? I dunno, but it just sort of happened. Talking about the costume with Mom she said there should be photos and was shocked when I pointed out the only Halloween pics I have are with jack o’lanterns, and many of them. My folks just didn’t even realize they weren’t thinking to take pictures of us growing up......

***I have a story about my best friend in high school reacting to a pic of her...but that’s for another time...

**** Since this week was my parents’ anniversary and Pop was called “Steve” I think it was reminding her of her grief too. 

[willswalkabout]

Ho Chi Minh, El Nido.

I can guarantee this blog will be the hardest to write of my travels. These have been the toughest and most unforgettable 9 days of my trip so far, but not without some great moments thrown in. (On completion I’ve also just done a word count and it’s really long again, sorry, but maybe one to print!)

When I left off last time I had just landed in Ho Chi Minh. It was about 11pm and although I was shattered, I really didn’t want to pay £15 for a taxi, so after some searching I found the 80p bus, which would drop me off 5 minutes from my hostel. On arrival the place seemed closed, though only because the reception desk didn’t function after 10pm. A security guard who spoke zero English met me in the lobby and took my passport in exchange for a key. Other than that he just motioned for me to go up the stairs, with no further direction. Unlike most hostels my bed number had no correlation to the floor number, which led to some confusion before eventually finding my mattress for the next 3 nights.

The next day was to be my touristy day, though it didn’t start till quite late due to tiredness from Thursday’s travel. I walked to the Independence Palace first. Ho Chi Minh’s attractions have odd opening times, as I discovered the palace was not to open till 1pm. It was around 34'C and so I decided to sit outside in the shade for about 40 minutes watching Vietnam’s most crazy city fly by. The palace itself is quite odd. It’s very typical 60s architecture, after its rebuild in 1966, and doesn’t really resemble a palace at all. On top of this it has never been inhabited by a King, and now only functions as a tourist attraction. It did play a pretty symbolic roll however in the “fall of Saigon” something that coincided with America’s evacuation of the country, so was a good reinforcement of my grounding in the events of the war. I find it sort of crazy that it doesn’t make up even a small part of any history course taught in school, despite it being the most monumental post-WW2 ideological war.

After this visit I engaged in culture of a different form, heading to the nearest Starbucks so I could stream Ed Sheeran’s latest album, which had just been released. I have been playing it practically nonstop since, through some incredibly arduous journeys which will be described later in the blog.

I then visited a very old post office, and Ho Chi Minh’s attempt at the Notre Dame, though, as mentioned earlier, odd timings prescribed that this building closed at 4, preventing me from going inside. I went back to the Hostel, which is effectively run solely by travellers who ran out of money and thought they’d chill in Ho Chi Minh for a bit. Although Flipside Hostels is Kiwi owned, the only staff I met were Canadian, British and Vietnamese. My route back to the hostel is actually a mini story in itself, as I had my first and last experience on a ‘Grab MotoTaxi’. Grab is Asian uber, and for 25% of the price you can sit on the back of a driver’s moped (helmet included!). It was more like a thrill ride than a taxi, as my driver swerved through non-existent gaps, and used the pavement as a 'shortcut’ when he got bored of the traffic. At one point during the ride he asked me to rate him 5 stars on the app at the end of the trip, to which I replied that I would do, if we made it that far. Beers at the hostel were cheap, and I spent most of the evening with a Canadian girl, and 2 Norwegian guys, all of which were in my dorm. It is fair to say we were all feeling the effects of the previous night on Saturday morning, but it was to my delight when at about midday a hilarious English guy called Joey, with a helicopter hat (baseball cap with the spinny thing), burst into our room announcing that we were going to a pool party. At this point I will admit that there many more cultural options in the city that I didn’t explore. For example the war museum, or tunnels. On the other hand I liked the people in the hostel, and in the past I thought pool parties only existed in LA, Vegas, or movies set in LA or Vegas, so I went. I would definitely like to return to see more of the city in the future.

It was a good laugh, and a very relaxing way to spend the day, with good food, and some fun conversations with one girl who was half Russian half Swedish, but about to go to University in Spain so she could be fluent in 4 languages by the age of 20. As well as a French man who decided we should try and have a conversation where we could only speak our native languages. This was a stupid idea, albeit with amusing consequences, given I got my French GCSE over 2 and a half years ago, and he was 30 and working in English. It did however give me the smallest of glimpses of how possible it could be to learn a language if you were forced to speak it full time.

I went out again that night with the same guys, and spent much of it playing ¾ rounds of pool with 2 Indian guys while discussing the IPL.

I left Ho Chi Minh the next morning with an English traveler who was heading to Sydney, my next stop being Manila. I hijacked his pre-booked taxi, my 3rd time doing so on this trip, however due to his nerves about missing his flight I did arrive at the airport 3 and a half hours before my own. Something I was prepared to take for the ease and cheapness of getting to the airport. El Nido is impossible to reach from an international destination in less than 2 days realistically, unless you align everything perfectly and don’t take a single rest. It is 7 hours drive north of Puerto Princessa, the island’s only airport, which is an hour and 50 from Manila. Therefore I spent Sunday night in Manila, in a small hotel about 15 minutes from the airport. People generally don’t hang around in Manila, I can’t honestly pass judgement on the claims of dirtiness and roughness, however my hotel’s location was certainly not somewhere you wanted to spend any time. I was able to locate a McDonalds a 10 minute walk away, but that was enough of Manila for me in this case.

The next day I had to leave at about 5 to get my 7am flight. I got a van from Puerto Princessa at 11am, getting me to my El Nido hostel at about 5pm. The bus journey is infamously horrific, not a view I can personally attest to. The road itself is reasonable for South East Asia, and my driver was fast and very friendly. The ticket was 1000 pesos return, about £16. I also managed to persuade a girl that had somehow booked the front seat of the minibus next to the driver, that with long legs in comparison to her stature of no more than 5ft1, my need was greater. I think the driver had in fact invited the woman to that seat, no reservation had been made, and she was quite relieved to move.

To reach my hostel you had to tramp 50m along the beach, to a view I don’t think I would ever get tired of. There are maybe a couple of photos of it on here, but I may have taken close to a hundred. My roommates were Catie and Lucie, recently qualified nurses from Northumbria.

I haven’t planned how to write this next paragraph, but am aware I would like to print this entire blog on its completion as a permanent memory of the adventure. El Nido is somewhere I will never regret visiting, with crystal clear waters, stunning sunsets and perfect weather. There are factors however that take a little away from the paradise, these being next to no internet connection and frequent power cuts. For these reasons notifications come in sporadically and in clumps. On Monday evening I suddenly had missed calls from mum and dad across 3 different platforms. This is a sight that truly does make your heart skip a beat. The connection was not strong enough for us to attempt any of the video calling methods of the last 5 or so weeks, WhatsApp, FaceTime or Google Duo. I slipped in my UK SIM card to the phone and made an international phone call from the beach, where I found out my Granddad, mum’s father, Reginald Flatman had passed away. Reg first got ill around Christmas, and had been in and out of hospital since, with various issues that were increasingly hard to diagnose.

I visited Reg a few days before I set off when he was in high spirits. I discussed my trip with him, and witnessed him as his trademark jovial self, as he laughed at mum’s gardening course exam, where she had somehow managed to hit the pass mark exactly…

Reg was possibly the kindest man I’ve ever known, with hardly a bad word to say about anyone. His only criticisms were directed at the attitude of the Ipswich Town football team, something I always found odd given his total indifference towards competitive sport of any kind. I’ll never forget walking the fields of Zoe and Des’ farm with him and the dog, when I would go down to Suffolk to work in the summer. I also had a memorable conversation with him 18 months ago at the reception of James and Vicky’s wedding, where he was utterly bemused by the 'racket’ coming out of the speaker system during the reception. I was delighted to be able to invite him to our school’s big band concert at Chelmsford cathedral last year.

Reg was a man of simple pleasures who would always refuse as best he could to trouble anyone for anything. We would rarely be able to contain our amusement at dinner, as when Reg was asked “would you like some more food”, he would reply with “that was great thanks”. Nana’s firm toned “Reginald”, uttered when he made a funny face across the table, nudged one of us under it, or tried to steal a roast potato, never failed to make myself or Kate laugh. Reg was to us polo mints, shredded wheat, and a day concluded with cheese and biscuits. Reg never bothered taking life too seriously, a characteristic summed up by a set of four photos in a frame at home, of him and Nana. He is screwing his face up in an effort to make the photographer laugh, in three of the photos. If this was a school photo session with a 10 year old, you would pretend the first 3 didn’t exist and just print the fourth large. The first three however said far more about Granddad than a composed shot ever could.

I will fly back from Melbourne to London on Sunday 19th to be with family for the funeral on Thursday 23rd. Then fly back out on Friday 24th to Auckland, NZ.

So El Nido. The nights are all very boring here as I did not have the energy or desire to go out. On Tuesday I accomplished a goal I’ve had for a long time, to visit a particular beach by the name of Nacpan. There is a particular travel blogger on YouTube by the name of Christian Le Blanc. While I was doing my exam revision last year, Christian was traveling the Philippines, and his trip to this particular beach was one that really drew me to the area. You have to drive 45 minutes north of the main town via scooter to get there. This is 25 minutes of glorious winding road up the coast, before a horrific 20 minutes along an unpaved dirt track to the beach. The reward is one of the largest and most untouched spots along the coast. Fine white sand and beautiful water. However I imagine it is becoming less and less 'secret’ by the month. Even in comparison to the video I saw 8 months ago there are now a few more food and drink stalls, a relatively organised parking scheme, and a far bigger sign from the main road. The one way in which El Nido has developed impressively is in its number of high end restaurants run by Europeans, in order to serve those visiting the town from nearby resorts. This did mean I enjoyed a great pizza that night, with about 10 others from the hostel.

The next day I did the hostel’s combined package of Tour A&C. The El Nido bay is very comparable to Halong Bay in Vietnam, except for more islands with beaches, as well as individual lagoons, in comparison to Halong’s mystical 1969 limestone rocks. At some point the tourist board must of grouped different combinations of the lagoons, beaches, islands, viewpoints etc, into tour A, B, C and D. There are now dozens of outlets selling these tours at prices from 1000-2000 pesos, (£16-£32). In the vast majority of cases you should try not to book tours and other items through your hostel. They will rarely be providing the service themselves, and will therefore be taking a cut simply for making a phone call to one of the companies on the street on your behalf. For example hiring a scooter from the hostel was 700 pesos a day, though I found one in town for 350. Saying all this the hostel ran their own in house tour which was a combination of tour A and C. It was 1700 which was nearer the pricier end, but the advantages were that it left from the hostel’s own beach, and you could do it with people you knew. I did love the experience, the videos of which online were another draw for me visiting the area. I snorkelled and got some decent GoPro footage of a small jellyfish that went on to sting me as I swam away. Taking photos on my phone and proper camera though was a more hap-hazard venture, with the boat being occupied by 16 soaking wet passengers constantly walking up and down around the kit. I also started to wonder if I was really getting the most out of the day, when seeing it partially through a lens. I was never going to get the greatest of photos, for that you’d need a chartered boat where you could specify time in each place. So I put the camera away for the most part of the trip, and enjoyed just sitting on the edge of the boat and taking it all in. Sunburn was the only tarnish on the day.

Thursday started with a torrential storm, which in typical Philippines style concluded with the weather returning to normal service in the space of 5 minutes. Myself, Catie, Lucie and a Swiss guy called Kevin went to do a zip line which was pretty awesome. I’d thought at the start of the day that I would be riding, and so brought my bike helmet with me. This meant rather embarrassingly this was to be my head protection for the experience, complete with visor. I managed to fashion my camera bag shoulder strap into a way of securing my phone to my harness, so I could film and photograph the ride. After this I returned to the hostel to relax a bit before planning to return to Nacpan to try and capture the sunset. This plan in hindsight was rash. Though cloudy, I was overly trusting on one German guy’s words that “his app said the sunset would be good”. It was not, with the clouds concealing nearly the entirety of the sun. I still enjoyed seeing the light shade of pink that took over the bottom third of the horizon, but it was not something I managed to pick up on the camera. What made the decision particularly stupid was that I then had to go back down the entirely unlit gravel path in the dark. I dropped off my scooter in town before meeting the girls for a meal at a traditional Philippino restaurant that had been recommended.

What followed was one of the most uncomfortable nights of my life, something I think I am only now really coming back from 2 and a half days later. Food poisoning hit me bad all night, as it did Lucie also. The plot thickens however, when we both awoke in the morning to find at least 7 others in the hostel had experienced identical symptoms overnight. I could not join up any dots with any of them leading some people to wonder if there was something airborne going around. I don’t think we’ll ever know, but it made Friday’s van journey even more daunting.

As mentioned earlier I had booked a return trip with the company that had brought me up, however the way it seems to work is that nobody drives if their vans are not full. This meant when I arrived at the bus terminal all the other companies that were present were enquiring about my departure time. My theory is that they knew my provider wouldn’t show. So at 1:35, five minutes past my supposed leaving time, a bidding war ensued. I was eventually bundled onto someone’s minibus. I can only assume after they took photos of my ticket, that they will get a refund off my people. This was not the main frustration of the journey unfortunately. The driver still had 4 free seats, and so he transformed into a hop on - hop off service for the whole island. This meant stopping for every random person on the side of the street, negotiating a price for their destination before letting them on. We must have made around 15 stops, something my stomach was not pleased with. 6 hours later we had arrived at Puerto Princessa airport. Advice I am giving myself for the future is not to book the cheapest hotel for short 1 night stopovers. This decision on Friday night involved a 20 minute tuk tuk ride to an area I was advised “not to walk at night”. The only pleasant anecdote in this experience was the fact my driver’s sister was a nurse in Ipswich, probably at the hospital granddad was receiving such good care. It was an incredibly odd and heartwarming meeting, as the driver spoke enthusiastically about his new brother in law, who runs a barber shop on the Woodbridge road. My room itself would be more accurately described as a cell. The bed was like a roll mat, and my troubles were furthered in the morning, when the building “ran out of power”. This was an impressive feat in itself as I was the only occupant in the entire 12 room hotel. I’ve got no idea how it copes with more than 5 customers… The power cut meant I woke up with no air con and no running water. I think I may have left without paying but the owner was so confused and I was so angry at the whole situation, I think the 600 pesos might remain in my pocket.

The next day I took a flight to Manila, then another to Kuala Lumpur. I’m writing this from the final couple of hours on what’s been a pretty grim overnight flight into Melbourne. I think when flying west-east you’re supposed to sleep, something I’ve completely failed to do.

I have a 2 hour domestic to Sydney and then the 47 hours from El Nido are complete. I think I have 14 hours to Abu Dhabi and then another 8 home next Sunday, so will try and summarise my week in Australia then.

Till the next time.