#also if we're friends and I've been quiet I'm not ignoring you just shit is going on

[straighttohellbuddy]

pretty best friends {Dream}

Anon asked: hello!! i saw that requests are open (i think? if not ignore this!!) and i was wondering if u could write a cc!dream x reader where the reader is maybe a faceless streamer as well, or dream just hasn’t seen her face yet for another reason and the first time he does he like… gets all quiet or something and reader thinks it’s bc he thinks theyre ugly and then dream is like “no it’s not that! never that.” djsjsjfroeod i love ur writing tysm!! 😽😽

Summary: Sometimes it's hard to explain what popular, faceless streamers go through to anyone else, so when you find someone whose good, if chaotic, vibes match up with yours, you'll hold onto that friendship tight so long as they feel like the right person to be around. So you're delighted to find that you and Dream operate on the same wavelength. What started as an MCC team up turns into an unshakable bond that you're both hell bent on making everyone else's problem.

Need to Know: They/Them. Popular Faceless Streamer!Reader. Suggestive discussions about CGI characters.

A/N: 3472 words. is this any good? Someone let me know. Can be read as platonic ! 💖 Seriously it's 5am and I'm catching a train in 10 minutes I've been up all night writing is this good???

"Am I nervous about being on Dream's team?" In the few hours before Minecraft Championship began, your nerves had gotten the better of you, so instead of psyching yourself out, you'd gone live early on the training map, "now; no. A few days ago? God, absolutely," you admitted with a warm laugh, "but considering I was acting weird the first time I got to talk to him, and now he's still messaging me to chat, and not just about MCC things, I figure it's on him."

Despite your lack of a camera, your chat could clearly hear how wide you were smiling, already sounding fond despite the relative youth of the friendship you were discussing.

"I was running on not a lot of sleep, and like, I wanna say professional fear," you huffed with faint amusement, "because, like I wasn't starstruck because oh my god its Dream, but more like, I haven't had enough sleep and I'm talking to a man with more followers than there are people living in Australia, you know?"

[Dream: bold of you to assume I am ever well rested either 😂] flashed up in your chat for a moment for everyone to see, and though they couldn't see the surprise on your face, the silence is deafening.

"Shut up, he's here, everyone be cool," you began babbling, "Dream I swear I'm not usually this shit at To Get To The Other Side, I promise," you laughed awkwardly, right before you eat shit on the training map. Then, after a moment, you switch tactics; "also, hey Dream, call me and tell everyone that I'm not lying and we are becoming friends."

It takes a few long moments as you loiter on the training map, looking through comments, many of which were doubtful, before everyone hears the Discord call noise.

"Mods ban everyone who doubted me," you announce triumphantly before you even say hello, and everyone hears Dream's laughter echo across your stream.

"Hello to you too," he chuckles.

"Hi bestie," you play up your closeness, but still he plays along.

"Hey new bestie."

A long moment of silence follows, which you eventually break with a sigh.

"I'm sorry, you didn't need to actually call, I was just being a menace," you admitted sheepishly, starting a new game.

"What are friends for?" Dream responded with easily, and you immediately hit menu and left the server.

"Dude!" You crowed.

"Dude, what?"

"Dude, I was being a menace, you're so nice!" You sound a little muffled, as if covering your face with your hands. Again, Dream laughs, again, it's a kinder sound than you feel like you deserve considering the context.

"We were doing Smash or Pass with the CGI creatures in Spy Kids 2, which I suggested," Dream points out, putting you both on blast in an instant, "and not only were you cool with that, but we both want to smash the Spider-Monkey, so now we're friends. I don't make the rules."

"It's the objectively correct answer," you don't even hesitate before answering, mouth moving faster than your brain, and face still presumably in your hands, "look at that creature and tell me he doesn't; one, sling phenomenal dick, and two, both know and practice aftercare." As you're speaking, if only to provide context for your audience, you tab away from Minecraft to Google image search the Spy Kids 2 Spider-Monkey.

"Yeah, I read your messages, I agree on all fronts; the Spider-Monkey is a service top and would treat us right," Dream added sagely, "but what I'm saying is the fact that we had in depth discussions about our reasoning behind whether we would smash or pass these CGI creatures has forged a friendship that I refuse to back out of."

"That's why you agreed to be my friend?" Your tone was strangely fond at that revelation.

"No, I agreed to be your friend because I posted a Thumb-Thumb from the first movie in our team's chat and you answered 'smash' in all capitals three seconds after I posted it, followed by 'what that thumb do', again, all capitals -"

"I hadn't had a lot of sleep!" You cut in to defend yourself, still sounding vaguely embarrassed.

"I was impressed by your fucking conviction!" He shouts, but the bright affection in his voice keeps him from sounding too aggressive. A few seconds of silence followed, and you tabbed back to Minecraft.

"To those in chat wondering," Dream sounds more than a little amused as he broke the silence, "I hadn't asked Smash or Pass, I literally just posted a picture of the Thumb-Thumb in the group chat; they responded before I had a chance to follow up."

"I don't know what I was thinking," you mumbled, sounding all kinds of bashful.

"I want to study you," you could hear him smirking. It was easy to play up your embarrassment when your chat couldn't see you grinning, "for the record you were really quiet when we first all met in the VC, so it surprised me - in a good way, of course."

"A good way?" You asked dubiously.

"Hey, if it wasn't, I wouldn't have DMed you to follow up, I wouldn't have bothered to watch your stream to try and get to know you better, and I wouldn't have called when you asked," he points out with a strangely kind bluntness to his words. You're once again quietly, ruminating on his words as a warmth blooms in your chest.

"Okay now I am kind of starstruck," you mumble, flustered and fond, "you need me to fight someone for you I definitely will," which gets him to laugh, and begins your long, public history of being a Dream Stan on main.

After your group places 4th in MCC, you anticipate your fast-formed friendship with Dream to fade considerably. You tell yourself you don't mind, that that's what happens; you're friends now, sure, but you shouldn't expect to be especially close.

But he's still just as quick to answer you. He starts conversations. He calls you just because he's had a strange thought he wants to talk through with someone, and you're one of his first choices, so of course you start calling him in similar situations. It doesn't take long for a script to form, even if it's just between the two of you, neither live, even sometimes bleeding into your DMs; Bestie, I've had a thought. / Terrifying, continue.

While you don't interact live often anymore, you speak in private almost daily, and neither of you forgets the joke even when the other isn't around to hear it. Jokes about stanning turn to jokes about simping, made all the more amusing by neither of you knowing what the other even looks like.

While you begin to develop a solid friendship with George and Sapnap along the way, so too does Dream get to know your own housemate, an ASMR YouTuber who is kind but bemused by your burgeoning friendship with one of the biggest names on the platform. Still, she gets along well just as you do with the rest of the Dream Team.

And when your housemate moves out and you're by yourself in the little two-bedroom apartment, they make sure you never feel lonely.

While live interactions were limited, you never hesitated to defend one another, no matter the platform. Mods in your streams quickly learned that if vitriolic Dream-Antis weren't banned before they properly got your attention, you would put them on blast without a shred of mercy.

[the bit is dead. you and dream don't give a shit about each other we know this is for clout. let it go] pops up as a donation that slipped through the cracks, and you, who had been ranking notable Cyberpunk NPCs on a tier list, and had mentioned in an offhand way that you and Dream got into an argument about some of the A-Tier choices, go dead silent.

The mood drops.

"Can you please explain how?" Voice absolutely poisonous and calm, you let your mouse rest idle in the middle of the screen, "mods let them speak; can you bring up this proof that everyone knows about that insinuates that my friendship with Dream is a spiteful bit on my behalf?" And you wait.

[everyone knows. obviously. you guys aren't friends you don't ever talk]

"Obviously," you give a thin-lipped smile that no-one sees as you read a message from Dream himself, asking if you want him to call. You hit call and continue to address the troll, "not that I have anything to prove to you, or anyone," you drawled, feeling rather smug seeing that Dream had picked up, "hey bestie, sorry to interrupt your hot boy shit, but get a load of this clown," you snorted.

"You want me to ban them?" Dream asks with the kind of lazy, smug confidence that was rarely warranted in your shared discussions, but made a pleasant little shiver run down your spine every time you heard it. Chat was screaming.

"That's right, you have mod privileges on my streams, don't you?" Your tone is frankly catty, so full of smug confidence that even without a visual your audience is practically able to picture your smile.

"Yeah, you gave them to me months before we even talked about you joining the SMP -" Dream's own tone shifts as he stops matching your energy to menace you on your own stream. As anticipated, it broke you into disbelieving laughter as you shrieked for a moment.

"You're such a dick!" You laughed brightly, "I've been building up that will-they-wont-they-invite-me bit since MCC!"

"Okay, bye bestie, love you!" Dream announced cheerfully over the top of your dismay before immediately hanging up the call. While you're half-groaning, half-laughing at his sheer audacity, one of your other mods was quick to post that this is how people knew you were actually good friends, and for once your chat was in absolute agreement. At least when they weren't begging you for details on your SMP character and when you might finally join.

"I never said I accepted the invite," you tried to play coy, but it was futile, "he's so lucky he's cute."

Thankfully the overall reception to Dream's brief cameo was positive, and at least for a few days the people claiming you were a clout chaser quietened down. It's a brief reprieve but you're still glad for it.

In some ways you found it easier being faceless online; it's easier to disconnect yourself from a lot of the baseless hate. That being said, you found yourself, like many of your faceless fellow creators, to be a lightning rod for speculation and cruel potential comparisons. And more than anything, people went to horrifying lengths to try and discover your true identity behind the screen.

"Would you ever do a proper face reveal?" You hear yourself asking Dream at an hour that's arguably both too late and too early.

"I mean I want to," he admits, "I want to meet my friends and fans and make IRL content, you know?" Serious conversations were happening more and more often between you two. Maybe it's a sign of closeness, "but still the idea kind of freaks me out, like I'm losing a safety net. I love Sap and George but now that they're out there it's like they've kind of forgotten what it's like, and now my numbers are fucking astronomical, it's..." The way he signs betrays just how exhausted he was by certain aspects of his success.

"I know..." While your numbers may not be even close to Dream's, you've still got a few million subscribers of your own, and know all too well how the pressure aches. Still, you try to lighten the mood, "I'll make you my lock screen."

"What, now?" He laughs with confusion

"After your face reveal I'll make you my lock screen," you tell him with complete sincerity. You're not completely sure what reaction you're hoping for, but silence isn't it.

"Dream?"

"I've had an idea," he muses, sounding suddenly energetic, and you don't even have time to make an intrigued noise before he's continuing, "we should meet up."

"In person?"

"Yeah, you come to me or I'll come to you," enthusiasm is spilling from him, and you hear him begin to frantically type. You, however, are far more hesitant.

"Why? What would be the point?" And at your question, the tapping of the keys goes silent.

"I wanna hang out with you?" He says a little awkwardly, almost like it's a question, "I want to see you in person? You're one of my best friends? I think it'd be funny for two of the biggest faceless streamers to do a meet-up before either of us face reveal? Take your pick," he sounds a little defensive.

"I-" you find yourself touched by the sentiment, overwhelmed at his words, "I know we are friends, and I know it's kind of something we joke about, but I always figured, you know, you had George and Sap and..." you feel your chest swell with pride, "do you really think of me as one of your best friends?"

A long silence follows.

"Do you not?" He asks, sounding a little disappointed, which has you backpedaling almost immediately.

"Of course I do, but I don't -" you hesitate before admitting, "I don't really have any other best friends. I like my housemate but ours is a convenience thing more than anything else."

"You're a different kind of best friend to Sap or George, or you know, even different to Karl or Q," he tells you after a few moments of deliberation, but at least he seems to be in better spirits, "but yeah, I still consider you one of my best friends." The typing on his end of the call has tentatively resumed.

"What kind of different?" You ask gently, and are again met with hesitation.

"There's parts of how I..." He trails off and hums thoughtfully, trying to organise his thoughts, "the way we exist online- no... I mean yes but it's not quite..." Then, carefully, "you know me," and he lets it hang in the silence between you both, and you give him the time to elaborate, heart in your throat, "you know me in a way that's very hard to describe and so much harder to find, because I feel like you know me in the nichest way, you know? Since that random-ass call the day of MCC, I was like, sure about you in a way that I'd never been about another person. Like safe - I mean," and he splutters half sentences again for a few moments, like he hadn't quite meant to admit that last part, but you're glad he did. You knew exactly what feeling he was talking about, the one that burned deep in your chest, that you knew you could never dream to find the words for.

You tell him your address.

He goes quiet.

The typing continues.

"So this is it, I'm coming to visit," suddenly he sounds nervous, and despite feeling that too, you can't help but grin.

"How soon?"

"Two days?"

"Two days!" The way you cheer in confirmation is cathartic for you both; you hear him definitely hit enter to purchase the plane ticket, and he laughs like he can't believe it's really happening. Then, as the laughter dies down, your voice turns quiet and fond, "you make me feel safe too, Dream."

"Stop," he sounds plaintive but still somehow bright, "I already kind of feel like I'm about to cry, I can't believe I get to see you so soon."

"So soon," you echo the affirmation with a smile.

To celebrate you watch and movie together, ending up falling asleep on the call. All you feel when you wake is how giddy you are knowing how soon it would be until you saw your best friend in person, finally!

He insists on taking an Uber from the airport, wants your first time seeing each other to be somewhere your voices have no chance of getting recognised, so by the time you buzz him into your building your practically sick with anticipation. Pacing with your earbuds in, something about hearing the echo of his real voice at your front door just ahead of hearing him in the call, it makes it all feel so real.

"I'm gonna hang up and knock now," his tone is so gentle, like he can tell you're freaking out more than he is right now.

"Okay, love you," you blurt out on tense instinct. He hangs up but you can hear his fond laughter the moment before he starts to knock. He doesn't even get a third knock in before you've wrenched the door open, heartbeat in your ears, absolutely clueless on what to expect -

He's real. He's a real person and he's standing in front of you and your best friend Dream has kind eyes. Around the time you register that this isn't a trick, that he's got wavy hair and he's tall and pale as all fuck, you realise that you're definitely checking him out, which somehow feels weirder when it hits you that he's actually very handsome. He had a place in your heart pretty much since you met him, but this is a welcome surprise.

"Do you wanna come in?" You asked with a little laugh, stepping to the side and gesturing him in. His expression was unreadable as he stepped past you, "it's good to see you," you tried, but once you closed the door and turned around, you couldn't help but feel self conscious.

"Come on man, this is really me, I'd rather you not do a bit, I've been cleaning but I tried to -" you dip your gaze to avoid looking at him, scouring your outfit for any stains you made have noticed, hoping his reaction was to something you could fix -

"This isn't a bit, sorry, I promise," he says in a rush, stepping forward. When you finally look back up, he's smiling at you, hand hovering like he went to touch your cheek but he's not sure he's allowed, "I cannot believe you've been this pretty behind the screen this entire time, this is so unfair, I could have bought a plane ticket months ago."

Slowly, as his words sink in, you feel yourself beginning to grin and grow flustered.

"Okay, this bit I approve of -"

"Who says it's a bit?" He crowed, stepping closer to you, cupping your face with his hand, "look at your face, this isn't a bit, you're hot! Who let you be hot?" And you know that tone, have heard that smile in his words before; the fact that this smile was behind it every time?

"No, shut up, you're not allowed to simp over me, I'm meant to be simping over you; you just finished a plane and uber ride, how are you not a hot mess? Who let you be hot?" And immediately he's turning red, basking in your compliments with a wide grin.

"We're gonna be insufferable on stream, aren't we?"

"Without a doubt," you beam, and finally you pull each other into a tight hug.

After dinner you drag a second chair into what is now your office, making sure the space was set up for you both to be comfortable. Once your computer is booting up, he pulls out his phone and instructs you to make half a heart with your hand in front of the computer. He completes the heart with his own and snaps a photo, your aesthetic set up in the background.

[am I really in @Y/N's apartment IRL for the most convoluted meet up ever or am i very good at photoshop? idk you decide] is how he captions the photo, which you immediately retweet onto your main account with a link to your Twitch.

"I ain't ever seen two pretty best friends!" You quote loudly at your chat to start your stream, immediately causing Dream to laugh, leaning over to press his forehead against your shoulder while you continued on strong, "and neither will you! Welcome to the most confusing and least provable meet up! Special guest Dream, do you wanna say hello?"

"I do," he wheezed, "I'm special guest Dream, coming to you live from Y/N's office, believe it or not!"

"I'm seeing a lot of non believers here," you mumbled with faux disappointment.

"They don't have to believe," Dream points out, far less performative than he'd been a moment ago. When he smiles at you, something eases in your chest. There's no weird tension, or uncomfortable silences, or doubt. Your best friend is by your side; the only thing that matters in this moment is him.

[river-muse]

That WIP ask game is seriously an underrated concept tbh, authors should be able to air out their works and ideas if they want to, even if those are unfinished.

Since I've been bugging you a little about MH I think I have to ask about the Monster Hunter Derelict WIP. MH Is an interesting setting for sure, but it's also hard to think of something to write in it, except maybe a dnd-like hunter party? Anyway, I'm rambling, definitely interested what you had going on There.

Also, I'm a filthy cheater and a sucker for time-themed fiction, so I definitely have to ask about Whatever Time May Bring. Feel free to ignore my filthy cheater double request tho

I agree! Being able to show off stuff we're working on without perfection being expected is super fun because I can pick out highlights and hold it up without needing to go "is this polished enough to be read?"

Since one is sort of a mini-fic that's an AU me and one of my close friends are messing around with for the funnies I'll answer both of your requests! I'm giggling and rubbing my hands together.

Monster Hunter Dereliction is the working title of a DMC MonHun AU that centers around a small Guild outpost in the Old World that pretty much has its shit figured out due to there not being many settlements in the area that need to be protected. My friend and I went "fuck it minimal family loss trauma in this department" so a lot of the cast is Around(tm) except for Sparda(we haven't decided what happened to him yet if anything).

There's sort of a plot figured out, though most of it's up in the air because we haven't had too much of a chance to talk more thoroughly about it and are just in the brainstorming department. We really just wanted to come up with our own biomes and monster designs for fun. It would involve a clash between two Elders breaking open a crevice in the earth that reveals an underground cavern system- and unknowingly awakening an Elder that has almost cosmic horror-esque traits to it. There's a sketch but it's not mine so I'd have to ask my friend later if he'd be cool with me sharing it.

For a little insight into some character placements, since I'm a bit obsessive about how lore in MonHun goes xD I won't go into what everyone is doing but I will share a handful.

I don't have much in way of writing, since I just got a few key ideas down- but have at it!

I think we decided Dante was the master in that area? He's mostly chilling around the outpost unless something super dangerous comes up that he's needed for.

Vergil is a high-ranking hunter who tends to do tasks for the Scholars that takes him into dangerous areas for the challenge and potential to explore old ruins. He's in and out of the outpost a lot on a whim so unless he's requested specifically good luck finding him.

Nero is an established hunter who tends to get a little babied by the others, which leads to him being more adamant about pushing his limits to prove himself and get them to stop worrying.

Eva regularly travels, recording locales and monsters in general peace.

Kyrie acts as the guild sweetheart for the location, handling quest assignments and making sure the hunters are properly prepared.

Credo is one of the residing guild knights, which is a rank in the guild that handles upholding guild regulation and deciding on punishment for anyone caught illegally poaching monsters.

Nell is the residential smithy! She's been training Nico for a long time now to take over in the future.

For now Nico tends to tag along behind Nero on a lot of hunts to observe them, swipe some new materials for herself, and experiment with equipment that diverts away from standard expectations.

Patty is a guild sweetheart in training, if I remember right? I only wrote her name in all caps in this post-it note and nothing else fdsgfbsdxjkgbj

-

Dante’s late to leave his room today, not expecting too many requests to come in if any. It’s been quiet since they’d sorted out the sudden influx of larger wyverns that had migrated South from their own territories. Which isn’t a good sign. It could mean something bigger is on the way soon. However nothing’s turned up. So to him the problem’s been solved. The peace lasts about as long as expected though, because the door pushes open without so much as a knock from the incoming visitor. It’s Lady. Not even in her armor yet but scowling as if she’d just gotten tossed around by a Diablos. “Where’s your fucking brother?” “Not even a good morning?” Dante yawns. “Passed morning a few hours ago.” Lady crosses her arms and leans against the doorframe “Now about Vergil-“ “Do I look like my brother’s keeper?” When It’s obvious Lady isn’t accepting that as an answer he groans and rests his feet on his desk “Out. On an expedition. That’s why one of the aptonoth aren’t in the stable. He’s North, checking out whatever caused that Wyvern displacement. Should be back in a few days.”

-

Vergil lingers by the ledge of the massive crevice, peering into the darkness to see faint shimmers of light that waver as if moving. It’s odd. With most of the trees decimated there should be plenty of sunlight shining down to show whatever’s down there. The darkness opens its eyes. Swirling colors and glowing light as faint pupils shrink to paper-thin slits when they focus on him. From the positioning of them Vergil isn’t sure if he’s looking face-to-face with a creature or with multiple. He doesn’t recognize any visible traits and stumbles away from the ledge. There’s a snapping noise and Vergil looks back to see the aptonoth has broken her binds in her attempt to flee, taking all of Vergil’s gear with her as she disappears into the treeline. A rattling, warbling noise that resembles a broken horn echoes loud enough that it hurts Vergil’s ears. He covers them with his hands and regrets not bringing earplugs. Something cold enough to leech the temperature through his armor wraps around his ankle, and drags him into the crevice. He grasps at the rock. His gloves dig in and he struggles to grab his blade. It slips from his hands and he falls with it. Darkness engulfs his vision made to feel darker by the eyes that fill his peripheral. One more eye, larger than all the others, opens up in front of him to blot out his last view of the sun.

-

Nero’s the first to volunteer and the first to be ready to depart. He shuffles about, fretting over what equipment to take and how long of a trip it will be. “Don’t you dare authorize that mission.” Credo objects, smacking his hand on the table “There’s no telling how long he’ll be gone, and if there is a wyvern strong enough out there to take Vergil down then I don’t feel comfortable sending him out.” “He’s qualified. Just as capable as the rest of us.” Dante insists “You need to stop babying him or he’ll never get his feet under him.” “How dare you accuse me of coddling one of our hunters?” “You’re not really beating the allegations. Especially since he’s got a crush on your sister.” “Do not-“ Nero objects. Dante stares, raises an eyebrow, and Nero clicks his tongue. Nero looks away while his cheeks flush red.

---

NOW onto-

Whatever Time May Bring. You have sniffed out the ONE NASNAH part that I think you're going to love the most, because it takes place when Nero's 15 and a certain 8 year old girl finds her way into Dante's life. It skims through the anime timeline and a bit beyond, since for reasons not yet revealed in the plot Dante decides to keep Vergil and Nero out of most of the details of his demon hunting work. It's a scene compilation like how "In Leaps and Bounds" was for little Nero. It's also finally the time where Nero starts questioning his family's behavior and secrets more than before.

-

Vergil watches the ensuing exchange with all of his attention he can muster. There’s something comedic about a young child pushing Dante to wits’ end when Nero at that age earned nothing but Dante’s adoration. He then notices Nero’s uncharacteristic silence. It takes just one glance to see Nero’s eyes are wide, watching Patty with an expression that he hasn’t seen before. “Nero?” Nero startles out of his thoughts, straightening up. “Uh, hi.” Nero says. He picks up his coat from the floor and dusts it off. “A little slow on the uptake. Did you overheat trying to wear that over here?” Dante asks. “No just-“ Nero looks away and seems to get his bearings “-wasn’t expecting to see you taking care of a kid. He’s being nice to you, right?” Nero looks at Patty with his question. “He’s horrible! He doesn’t clean, never explains anything until after it happens, and won’t eat anything but pizza and strawberry sundaes. I’m surprised he even knows what tomato juice is let alone drinks it.” Patty pouts and motions at Dante with a pointed finger.

-

Patty is- energetic. She’s outspoken and from how she speaks her mind is sharper than she leads others to believe. Yet she’s very much a child in how she behaves. Much like how Dante had been at her age to an extent. It had been obnoxious to deal with when younger, but Vergil can rationalize it as normal behavior for children in hindsight. Nero’s odd phase of having become quiet and calm as a child must have been a special case. “Would you advise I rescue Nero now, or later?” Vergil questions. “I think they’ll get along just fine without us hovering.” Dante pushes up from his chair and nudges a box of stuffed animals to the side with his foot. He tilts his head to the hallway door “Let’s leave them to it.” “And what will we be doing, instead?” “If you don’t want to know the weird details of the job, then I guess we can stay here and listen to Patty go on all day about that stupid show.” “Hey! I heard that.” Patty speaks up, looking over from the couch. “I wasn’t talking to you.” “But you were talking about me, so that’s pretty much the same thing.” Patty sticks her tongue out.

-

“What happened to my mom? Who was she?” Vergil’s gaze flicks away. Guilt passes over his face and he keeps cleaning without giving an answer. “Hey, you can’t just ignore me. I asked you a question-” Nero objects. “I can, and I will.” Vergil holds out the sauce pan “That is a topic for another time, Nero.” “Another time? Seriously?” Nero scowls as he uses a bit more force than needed to dry the pan “You’re gonna dare say that to me after years of this? I don’t even know what her name was.” Vergil pauses washing the dishes, resting his hands on the edges of the sink.

-

Thank you for letting me go insane and giving me a chance to share with you some Patty Propaganda! I had to seriously dig around and be careful with what I show since there's quite a few parts between the fic I'm currently uploading and this one, but I would be damned if I didn't give you something to look forward to. <3

[journalkkk]

I'm 21 now..

Started cute - ended up just being a confused girl abt to get into the depths of her 20s | WISH ME LUCK

This is weird. I actually feel like I'm talking to my 17 year old self ?? ANYWAYS. Heartbreaks ... there's been a few, given and received. They've definitely changed me. Good news is I made friends, like good ones. I think. I haven't quiet gotten over my friendship anxieties but I'm getting better. I'm wiser and kinder and I can actually regulate my emotions a bit better. That or I'm better at ignoring them because shit has gotten real. I'm always rushing now, I know I'm only 21 but time feels fast. Maybe that's because I've put myself under alarms of pressure to fix my family's mistakes and their downfalls like only my success can save them. If only my success can save them, we really are fucked. Also, I'm starting to hate empathy. I want to think like a badish person. Those people who don't really do anything wrong but are just shit people, dgaf about anyone fr. It's confusing hurting for someone that just hurts you and the ones you love. I wish I could fix us all. I'm starting to see the world as a playground of kids. All our inner kids doing grown-up jobs and shit. But deep down we're all a little scared, and clueless. Just floating around trying to figure shit out. There's always shit to figure it. Why! is there SO much shit to figure out.

[chyberriesss]

Alone together

Bill denbrough x reader

Plot:[name] just moved to derry maine. Sadly, it looks like bill isnt the only one who wants them.

I suck at these😭😭

And yes, i was inspired by taylor swift's song dont question it.

More info (?):female reader heavily implied cause im a girl and i dont know how to write for a different gender sorry☹️☹️ also they/them pronouns are used!:))

It was the summer of 89, me and my mother just moved to the lone town of derry. School just finished and i felt like shit. Missing kids cases have been happening alot lately scaring the living shit out of me, i feel like im gonna get kidnapped any minute now, i wonder why tho.

Maybe i'm just being paranoid but i swear i felt eyes watch me as i pack my things to leave the classroom, i was alone, but it didn't feel like it.

I ignore what i felt and walked out heading straight to the bathroom to well, haha.

As i enter i saw gretta taunting some Beverly girl, I've heard about her before but i could care less. I felt bad tho, as i enter a stall to pee. 

Water splashed and leaked on the floor. I waited for gretta and her stupid friends to leave before knocking on the bathroom stall's door to check up on the girl.

"Hey you ok in there?" I asked "uh yeah!' she replied, it didn't convince me tho. 

She walked out the stall, she wasn't covered in anything but i could see her dress was wet. "Hey wait…! Your dress, its well, wet." I stated out the obvious, she just stared at me, WHY DID I SAY THAT.

"oh… yeah" she replied blankly staring at me. "Here, let me just-" i quickly got tissues and wiped her dress, not even finishing my sentence. "The names [name] by the way, nice to meet you" i needed friends don't blame me. "I know, we have the same classes, im bev, you probably know me already." I smiled at her, "nice to finally properly meet you ms marsh." "this isn't really a proper way of meeting someone but sure" she smiled "nice to meet you too." We walked out the stinky ass bathroom and talked for a while.

We finally got out the building bumping into the new kid, ben. He and bev talked about stuff i don't care about after we introduced ourselves. I was just standing there watching them, flirting? Bev grabbed Ben's yearbook and signed it. 

I felt like someone was watching me again, gives me the creeps man. I walked away, looking around trying to figure out who or what was looking at me.

A hand touched my left shoulder snapping me back to reality. It was bev, i forgot i was still with her, "you ok? You look kind of pale." "Im fine, just finally glad that hell hole of a place is done for a few weeks." I say pointing at the school building. She chuckled, "what happened to uh the new kid?" I ask "Ben, and nothing happened to him i just told him i didnt want to keep you waiting." She looked at me like i was some toddler whose impatient enough to just run-off, which i did. "So, you have to hots for him?" I ask "No? God no how did you even com up with that?" "I don't know" i laugh playfully and walked away with her, ignoring that eerie feeling im having.

_____________________________________________

"Why is there so many?!" I yelled in lowercase cause i have to be quiet for some reason."i know, lets just…. Get uh this one..?" Bev was unsure but went with the one she picked anyway.

We were suppose to walk up to the counter when we saw fucking gretta! "Holy shit holy shit holy shi-" We walked faster to the next aisle to see three dudes picking out medical supplies. Bev quickly hid the stuff we got at her back as they stare at us.

"You guys ok?" One of them asks "we're fine whats wrong with you" bev says "none of you're business" the one with curly hair says obviously uneasy with me and bev. "Theres a kid outside that looks like someone killed him" "w-we need some s–s-su-supplies but, we don't have enough money" they say explaining their intentions. "What the fuck" is all i reply.

"Do we reallyyy have to help them??" I whisper to bev hile walking to the cashier "You helped me clean my dress, it turned out great so why not help them?" She said looking at me then back at them. "Thats totally differe-" " i like your glasses mr. Keene" this girl is crazy i swear to god. "You look just like clark kent" i added smiling, this is so disgusting i tell you. "Oh hohoho i dont know about that" he says adjusting his glasses laughing, acting coy. Man he sure is weird and who even says hohoho??? You fucking Santa Claus or something? "Can i try them?" Bev asks, he looks around and says sure handing her the glasses. "You look even better without them mr. Keene." I compliment him, he smiled at me, making me wanna puke my organs out.

"What do you think?" Bev puts the glasses on, mr. keene leans closer to us, "well look at that, you look just like lois lane" he says smiling. What the actual fuck. 

"We should really get going, i mean we wouldn't wanna get in trouble for going out so long." I stated smiling at the both of them with a hint of irritation added to my tone. Bev hands him back the glasses 'accidently' knocking down the container of cigarettes. "Shoot im so sorry" she says "its okay" mr. keene says smiling. He leans down to pick up the cigarettes as i turn back to the three guys, signalling them to go now, they even manage to knock a few things down making me chuckle.

We bid our goodbyes to mr. Keene and left immediately.

"Jesus that was gross" i say "wouldn't want to do that ever again" bev added. 

As we walk down the street we saw the guy who stutters again.

"Um t-take this" he said pulling out a crumpled dollar "even steven" bev says flashing her stolen box of cigarettes. "I'll take it uh…" "bill m-m-my name's bill" "yeah, bill! I'll take this perfectly fine dollar." I smile at him making him turn away. I follow bev to the alley way and see the guys from earlier.

"Holy shit what happened to you" i ask kinda wide eyed when i saw new kid looking like a leaking hamburger. 

"Are you ok that looks like it hurts?" bev asks

"Nah im good… i just fell" ben smiled shyly

"Yeah right into henry bowers" some guy with glasses said making me chuckle, in turn making bev hit my arm. "Ouch" i whispered, rolling my eyes. "Shut it r-r-richie" guy from science class says "why?! Its the truth!" Richie, I assume, exclaimed.  

I keep getting this eerie feeling of someone staring at me again, I look around to see bill looking at me. And here i thought i was being stalked. He looked away immediately looking shy when i caught him.

"You sure they got the right… stuff, to fix you up?" Bev asks "are you flirting with him again? in front of everyone too?" I ask naively. "Im not" she looks back at me rolling her eyes playfully.

"Y-y-ou know what we'll t-t-take care of him, thanks again Beverly, [name]" bill says Glancing at the both of us. 

"Sure, maybe i'll see you around" bev smiled at him. I swear i saw him blush! "Im richie, call me rich for short sweetcakes" the guy with glasses approached me, i assume trying to flirt with me, smiling like an idiot. "You wont definitely be seeing me around anytime soon." I roll my eyes at him. I look at bev giving her a lets go look.

"Wait!" I hear bill scream, me and bev turn to him looking confused. "W-we were thinking of going to the q-q-q-quarry tomorrow i-if you guys wanna come." He asked glancing at us and his friends back and fourth.

"We dont" 

"Glad to know"

Me and bev say at the same time. 

"We'll see if we can come." "Which we wont!" I add winking at them as bev pulls me to leave.

"Y-y-you scared her away r-richie!" "No i didnt pretty sure it was you big bill!" "Shut up richie" "yeah shut up richie" i hear them arguing like idiots as we walk away, making me smile to myself.

"Jeez! Do you see the way he looks at you?! Its so Romantically stupid i tell you!" I exclaimed at bev as we walked "shushhh! Someone could hear you you know! And besides its nothing im sure he's just being friendly" "yeah whatever" i roll my eyes at her naiveness, "im going home, you should too, we might be the next missing kids you know" i say half joking.

 We said our goodbyes and went our different ways. I felt something staring at me again, i just ignored it and walked home faster im not about to get kidnapped motherfuckers.

_____________________________________

THATS IT HOLY SHIT GUYS!!!!

Im planning on making parts to this story, this chapter is basically just an introduction to it and basically just how the characters meet and all hope you guys liked it. I might add a link to a Spotify playlist with songs i listened to ehile i thought of the plot later;)

[kimhargreeves]

Love and Hate-Kingo x Reader

Summary: After centuries of being apart you and the rest of the Eternals must reunite. That means you coming face to face with Kingo once again.

(A/N: I need more Kingo content!! I decided to do things differently and kinda made you the female reader kinda alternative girl, since I myself am one, or you can also ignore that! Anyways expect more Eternals one shots!)

"Sersi?"

I opened the door to my apartment and opened to see my old friend here, it's was very unusual to see her. Most of us grew apart many years ago, it kinda made it hard too because we all had different mindsets. If she's here then it's for one reason.

"You've felt it haven't you." Sersi said after seeing my face. Right next to her was Sprite. Young as always. Well none of us really age, but she's stuck in the body of a child.

I moved aside and opened my door for them "Come in." They walked past me and I was about to shut the door when a hand stopped, I stepped back and was surprised to see Ikaris.

"It's been awhile since I've seen you." I gave him a look and went back to being myself when I was with them.

They each took their seats and I noticed Sprite was quieter and distanced herself from us. "(Y/N), Ajak is dead."

Sersi looked at me with worried eyes. I I stared back at her surprised by this, "But that's impossible I was just with her, she could heal herself."

I stood up for my seat and refused to believe what she said. "I just went to see her-?

"When did you go?" Ikaris all of the sudden spoke, but that didn't surprise me, what surprised me was how he said it.

I looked at him squinted my eyes. "It wasn't long ago, Why?" Ikaris stood up too which made Sprite come between us.

"Enough! Now's is not time to fight. We have a family reunion to finish." Sprite looked up at Ikaris and nodded her head. "We have to go to Mumbai. Bring back Kingo."

"Shit." I muttered under my breath. I need to see it was bound to happen, see him again and interact with him. "And here I was going to take a nap. Great let's go." I sarcastically told them and began to follow them after I grab my backpack and we were all heading to Mumbai.

**********

"Are we sure this is the right address?" Cersei began to ask us when we aimlessly begin to walk around a studio.

"Oh, definitely. Be on the lookout for an obnoxious and a really weird dressed up guy." I told her meanwhile I was walking ahead of them. We have to be around here somewhere.

People didn't even seem to mind us while we were walking around looking like fools, or maybe they we're just avoiding us because they might not speak English.

I do hope we finished this as soon as we can, I'm not too fond of being here or ready to speak to Kingo again. I continue to pass through many of the filming places and I stopped immediately when I saw colorful clothing along with lights and flowers.

"I told you it wouldn't be hard." Sersi, Ikaris and Sprite joined my side and we all stayed quiet and stared at whatever Kingo was doing.

This is what happened to him, he became a Bollywood star. I gave him an odd look and kept on watching all of the cast dancing around here while he stood at the center. I facepalmed and stared down at the ground, I can't believe I've known this guy for centuries.

The dancing finally stopped and Kingo shouted "Cut!" He praised his fellow stars, but told them to do better. The girl he was dancing with obviously into him and he was too oblivious to realize.

"Hey guys!" He exclaimed and came to hug each of us. "No no." I scrunched up my face when he came and gave me a big hug.

"I'm going to poke your eyes if you don't release me." I barked and saw him ignoring what I just said.

"Wow, how long has it been exactly since we last saw each other. Did you miss me?" He smirked looking at me.

"Kingo we need to talk." Sersi said stepping between us.

"Not now, Sersi. I have plenty of things to do." Kingo walked past us and went over to a mirror to inspect his outfit and makeup.

Ikaris rolled his eyes and so did I. I stepped closer to him and decided to be straightforward. "Ajak is dead."

I felt Sersi poke my shoulder because of the way I said it. She gave me a warning look but said nothing. "He wouldn't listen!" I defended myself and shrug my shoulders.

"Look we need to find the rest." Ikaris begins to talk to him.

"We must hurry before the Deviants find them." Sprint reminds us. If we're too late then this will certainly turn far worst than what Thanos did.

Kingo made or clear he wasn't coming but one of his assistant or camera man told him to do the right thing and help his family, or that's the bit of what I could understand.

"Alright..just let me changed."

Kingo ran past us and his friend, Karun told us to follow him. What I certainly didn't expected was to be face to face with a private plane, but I guess that's what money can do. Buy many expensive things...

"How long will we have to wait?" I crossed my arms and asked the man, Karun.

"He will come shortly miss." Karun said with a smile. He walked away but I noticed him bringing a large bag with something else in hand.

"Will you be needing anything miss?" I was surprised to hear someone asking me that. I looked back at my shoulders, make sure Karun was indeed talking to me.

"N-No, I'm completely fine. Thanks."

"He's spoken-"

"Karun! Buddy let's not get ahead of ourselves." Kingo walked in before Karun could finish whatever it is he was trying to say. I stared at them both weirdly and began to take a seat.

He took almost half and hour to dress up in jeans and a jacket? I rolled my eyes and sat down by the window and soon we up in the sky.

"(Y/N)!" I jumped up and held my hand to my chest when Kingo almost shouted my name. I looked at him weirdly and annoyed, then noticed we we being filmed.

"What are you doing?" I turned to face him, beginning to get angry at what he was doing.

"I'm making a small documentary about us! Come on tell us a bit about yourself, do something."

"I can punch your face if that's what you want me do." I wickedly smirked. "You want to see my powers, right?"

Kingo stared at the camera slightly afraid and went over to film Sersi. I huffed and frowned while staring outside the small window, now I'm feeling a bit bad for talking to him like that.. maybe just a bit.

I felt movement close to me and I saw Sprite looking upset. Whatever if is she clearly doesn't want to talk about it. I've learned to give her some space, but she does concern me. We're the same age but he'd appearance, I can tell she's gotten worse with it.

"Hey, how've you been?" Kingo reappeared once again but this time he was asking Sprite. This time I noticed he told his assistant to not record. Sprite scoffed and glared at him before looking away.

The reason Sprite doesn't like to talk to him it's because he let her down. Because to humans she looks like small underage girl, so Kingo was responsible for her, he took her under his wing and because people were starting to suspect why she wasn't growing, they both would have to move every 5 years.

"I know what I did was horrible and I am sorry." I heard Kingo apologize to her. He took a seat right next to me.

"You really should be." I shrug my shoulders and glanced over to look at him, both of us making eye contact. "You know she was feeling horrible, remember? That's the reason why you called me and told me to come pick her up."

He needed to be reminded of this. Kingo was extremely busy and didn't have time for Sprite, so he called me and told me to be responsible for her. That action made me become more upset with him.

Kingo groaned and tiredly ran his hands over his face. "How many times do I have to apologize?" This time I smirked.

"I have many times I want to hear it."

"You're the worst you know?" He pouted and I glanced to see Sprite roll her eyes before closing them.

Kingo was now resting on the seat in front of me. "You've certainly changed over the years. Look at your hair."

I raised an eyebrow at that comment. "Are you saying I look awful?"

"No absolutely not! That's not what I meant! I mean I'm not used to your crazy weird style but it suits you! I think that eyebrow piercing looks cool on you." I sucked in a breath when he leaned forward and stared at me.

I felt my face burning up. "Are you having a fever? You seem a bit red."

"I-I'm fine!" I lie and tried to move his hand away. "Let's just focus on getting over to Gilgamesh and Thena."

*************

The bright golden glowing in my eyes stopped as soon as I saw my reflection in the mirror. I shakely pressed my hand to my face, so this is how I look like? Long hair and pale skin. Kind but lost eyes stared back at me.

A tall woman with an elegant dress and headpiece came to me and smiled. "Don't be afraid child." Was the first thing she said to me, and I knew I would trust her.

"There are others just like you waiting behind that door."

I realized I was wearing something almost similar to hers. She gave me a short nod as I began to walk forward. As soon as I entered the room, I saw people but the first thing that caught my attention was the outside.

I sped up and pressed my hands against the glass. "Whoa it's beautiful.." I awed and stared down at a planet.

"It certainly is." A males voice spoke next to me. I looked up and saw a handsome man staring at me. His dark eyes stared into my own.

"That is planet Earth. It might be dangerous, I'd suggest we stick together." The man smiled and held out his hand.

I smiled back at him and and could already feel myself being safe. "I agree. My name is (Y/N)."

************

I was woken up by Kingo and it wasn't long after we got Gilgamesh and Thena back with us. Now we were in the Amazon with Druig who kept on controlling the humans. He wasn't too fond on joining us again when Sersi explained to him everything, the Deviants are after us and we have to put a stop on a Celestial that will be waking up soon.

Gilgamesh and Thena were away. I was sitting down reading an ancient book I found Druig reading. I furrowed my eyebrows when I noticed we were being recorded once again, I paid no mind to Karun since I knew Kingo was the one who told him to do this, instead I raised the book up to my face and hid myself from the camera recording us.

"You know? This reminds me of Peter pan. Ikaris is Peter. Sersi is Wendy you are Tinkerbell and the rest of us are the lost boys." I heard Kingo saying to Sprite.

I lowered my book looked up at them, wondering where this conversation would go. "Peter pan is in love with Wendy. Tinkerbell is also in love with Peter but she can't be with him."

What the?! Sprite glared at Kingo and said something I couldn't make out. On her way away from him Sprite had thrown on a camera Karun was holding but he reached into his back and got another one.

I placed my book down and ran over to Kingo. "Wait..Hold on.. Sprite has a crush on Ikaris?"

"Yes? You're more oblivious than I thought you'd be. I was sure everyone already knew." He says in the matter of fact.

"Well, I certainly have no idea of that." I said surprised and glance back at wherever Sprite had left. "And what do you mean by oblivious?"

"Hmm?" Kingo just hummed.

"I'm just saying everyone here keeps getting their feelings torn. You're not the only one who's run away."

Kingo tried to joke about this but I didn't feel like joking around at the moment. "Just stop. I know what you're doing."

"I'm not doing anything!"

"I know you still have feelings for me, you've always hide it behind your flirting or your way of joking."

"It's been centuries, (Y/N). I'm definitely over with it. 100% sure about it." he hit his hands inside his pockets and refused to look up at me when he stared down at the floor.

"You are a God awful liar." I blankley told him. This time he looked up and was getting desperate.

"Okay fine! I still have a crush on you okay?! You were the one who broke my heart, remember?!" My glare l on him softened and now I remembered everything again.

I remember clearly the first time I met him and the last time I ever saw him. We were inseparable, we used to do everything together and I was very open-minded, happy and cheerful back in the day.

We used to do absolutely everything together knowing about places, learning about humans and their ways of thinking and religions. But I felt that things ended up going too quickly for us, for some reason I couldn't stand the looks I would receive from some people who were judging me on how I look and why I would be dating Kingo.

We are completely different from each other but then never crossed our minds until humans started to talk about us. I guess that's where Druig and I agreed. Humans are quick to judge and start-up fights.

It was late at night when I left him. I didn't leave a note or said anything to the rest of the Eternals. I'll admit I was a bit too foolish and self-centered when I made that decision and ran away. I left Kingo alone, this affected him greatly from what I heard, especially because we were going to get married that same night.

"I'm sorry for shouting..it's just, I feel like I put everything into our relationship. I still remember your favorite meal.."

"Your's was odd, a hamburger with four slices of cheese..".I remind him and came help but chuckle.

I tried hiding my laughter but couldn't, I suddenly remembered how funny he was and would always cheer me up when I would get sad. "Aha there's that smile and laughter!" He cheerfully said like he won.

"You always made yourself look like a fool."

"It was because it always made you laugh." He says like it's no big thing. "And let me remind you, that you were also the jealous type." He smirks and now I look at him surprised again.

"Don't lie to me! I was never the jealous type." I tried to fight back. That was true, I was never really jealous back in the day.

"Oh yeah? Then why were you looking at my co-star like you wanted to murder her?"

"She was looking at you weirdly..."

He wickedly chuckles when I said that. "Whatever you say, (Y/N). We both now I win here. And besides! If you finally accept me again we might become Sprite's guardians again!"

"You are to way too enthusiastic right now, Kingo. Let's just start up slow."

"So, you really do still love me."

"Hmm?" I grabbed the collar of his jacket and began to pull him down, Kingo leaned closer to try and kiss me. I smirked and let go of him. I scoffed and did my best to not laugh.

"Let's just focus on this Celestial and Deviants first. Then we can talk about your whole romantic situation." I tease and see him getting happy. Just then we heard a loud boom and we stopped talking and saw something flying past us. It was a Deviant chasing Ikaris.

Kingo and I looked at each other and began to run to the crowd of people who began to run away. Let's hope we can at least save half of these villagers.

[helloalycia]

overstepping [one] // jane banner (Wind River)

summary: after getting several voicemails from your colleague and best friend with her asking for your backup, you attempt to call her back, only to get no answer.

warning/s: mentions of rape, murder and injuries.

author’s note: this is a two parter because i finally watched Wind River and it broke my heart but also lizzie was v cute and i felt the need to write this, hope you like it x

part two | masterlist | wattpad

"C'mon, work you stupid phone," I complained for the millionth time, before standing on the chair to get a better signal.

When I saw the bars in the corner of the screen increase, a grin appeared on my lips. I loved my parents, but the fact that they lived in a remote cabin in Tennessee with zero signal was not my favourite thing.

When the bars remained, my phone decided to actually be helpful and receive all the messages, calls and voicemails I missed. I did a brief flick through, noticing nothing was too important that couldn't wait for me to return to work. As an FBI agent, I rarely got time off. And now that I had taken a two month vacation to spend with my parents, I was adamant on enjoying it, even if I was missing work a smidge.

Next were the calls, which I noticed were mostly from my colleague and close friend, Jane Banner. I furrowed my brows, realising she'd left me several voicemails, too, which was strange since she knew I was on a break from work. What could be so important?

I sighed, glancing down at my uncomfortable position standing on the chair and leaning above the wardrobe. It was the only place in the house with decent signal and the only other place that wasn’t in the middle of nowhere was twenty minutes out. Telling myself I'd just listen to one voicemail to make sure everything was okay, I played the earliest message.

"Hey, Y/N. I'm sorry, I know you're on a break, but I just had to talk to you," it began, and Jane sounded troubled. "I was in Vegas, as you know, but I've been called out to a reservation in Wyoming where this poor girl was–" She paused, releasing a shaky breath. "She was raped and left to die out in the cold. I thought I could send in another team to take a look – y'know, usual protocol. But the coroner won't rule it a homicide and you know what that means."

I swallowed hard, knowing exactly what that meant. If it wasn't ruled a homicide, no backup would come and we had to move onto the next case. But if this girl was raped and left to die, the rapist was still out there and wasn't getting caught by the FBI.

"I can't just leave it and go," Jane continued quietly, with that recognisable passion for her job evident in her voice. "I have to do what I can. But I... I can't do this alone. It's not like other cases, Y/N. It's different out here. And there's only so much their police department can do. I know you're on a break, but I was hoping that, maybe, you could come out here and help me? It's the Wind River Indian Reservation. That's it, I guess. Bye."

The message ended and I found myself chewing on my lower lip anxiously, unable to think about anything other than Jane now. She'd worried me with that one voicemail alone – I couldn't imagine what the others said.

She was usually so good at dealing with cases, but this seemed different. She sounded shaken up, attempting to put on a brave face by the sounds of it. What was so different about this case? She didn't need me. She was capable.

Curiosity got the better of me and I played the second message, ignoring the discomfort in my arms as I stretched to maintain the signal. It was left a day after the first one.

"Hey, so I just remembered that you said you don't get much signal up there with your parents," she began apologetically. "I don't mean to– shit, it's so cold..." There was a pause, a noise in the background, then she continued, "Sorry, just turning up the heating. Anyway, I was saying. I don't mean to intrude on your break. I just– I'm hoping you'll find signal and hear this because I could really use your help. I think we've got a lead on who may have done it. It was hectic today. Really could've used that backup."

She chuckled dryly at her attempt at a joke, but all I felt was guilt. She sounded exhausted within a day of being there.

"I hope you get this," she finished with a sigh. "I should go. Got a busy day tomorrow. Hope you're doing okay. Bye."

I wasted no time in playing the next message. Three days into her case.

"I don't know why I keep sending these," she began with a hoarse voice, and my heart clenched at the sound of it. "You clearly aren't getting them in time. But it's easier talking to you like this than not at all."

It went quiet, so quiet that I thought she may have finished and forgot to hang up. But then she spoke up again, a whimper escaping her lips.

"It's so hard," she admitted. "We've covered worse cases, but this one... everything about it makes me uncomfortable. Something doesn't feel right. I've got a lead – we think it might be the boyfriend who did it and we're gonna see him tomorrow. But I don't know."

I frowned, squeezing my phone tightly because I didn't recognise the girl speaking as my friend. This girl sounded broken and I wondered what she could have discovered that made her like this.

"I've got the police department with me for backup," she said with a sniffle. "And Cory, he's a hunter whose been helping me with the case. They're all gonna be with me tomorrow. But I wish you were here, too. You always make things easier."

The lump in my throat wouldn't disappear no matter how many times I swallowed it. She made things easier, too. Always. And all I wanted to was be by her side and be there for her like she always was for me.

"Sorry about this," she said with a watery laugh, and I could imagine the embarrassed smile on her face as she did. "I sound like such an idiot. Never mind these messages. Just enjoy your break. I shouldn't be worrying you like this. See you when you get back."

The message ended and I checked to see if there were anymore, but to my disappointment, there wasn't. That message was from a few days ago and she hadn't sent anything since which was concerning in itself.

Trying not to panic for no reason, I called Jane. Hopefully everything was okay and I was being stupid. She was a fully-trained FBI agent. She could take care of herself. Right?

The call rang and rang, but nobody picked up. One missed call. No biggie. She probably heard it and couldn't find her phone or something. So, I tried again.

More ringing and no answer. Okay, no big deal. Just try again.

Another call and no answer. The chewing on my lip became more intense. Why the hell wasn't she picking up? Was she still working the case?

I waited an hour, trying again at ten minute intervals, unable to fight my concern. But there was no answer every time and I realised that I couldn't sit and wait for her to call back. Not after how she sounded in those voicemails.

No, I had to go there. She needed backup.

—

Wyoming was way colder than I could have prepared for.

I mean, technically, I prepared for nothing. I bid my parents a goodbye, threw some random clothes in a bag and caught the next plane over there. I tried for Jane's phone constantly, knowing she was never one to ignore me for this long, but there was no point. She wasn't answering, which could only mean so much.

When I reached the reservation, I had no idea where anything was or what I was looking for exactly. I just knew that as soon as the taxi dropped me off in the centre of town, I didn't know where to go.

There were a lot of locals hanging around, so my first port of call was to ask them if they'd seen Jane around – or Agent Banner, as she may have introduced herself. I showed them a picture of her on my phone, described her with vivid detail, but they just stared at me like I was crazy. I was starting to believe I was at one point, until I stopped by the convenience store.

As worried as I was for Jane's whereabouts, the chill in my bones was real. Especially my hands, which I was certain would fall off any minute. So, I decided to buy some gloves and also ask the cashier if he'd seen Jane around or heard anything of her. Whilst I was doing that, a customer caught my attention, probably having overheard my conversation.

"Did you say Jane Banner?" he asked with a quirked brow, interrupting my purchase. "The FBI lady, right?"

I nodded quickly, facing him. "Yes, that's her! D'you know where she is?"

He nodded casually. "Yeah, she's in the hospital. That big shootout that happened a few days ago, right?"

My stomach dropped. "The what?"

"The shootout," he repeated, not aware of the concern in my face. "At the drill site. A bunch of officers were killed and the FBI lady was one of the only one left standing." He tutted as he shook his head. "Very lucky that one."

A shootout? The hospital? Only one left standing? No wonder she hadn't been answering her calls.

"Can you– do you–" I stopped, clearing my throat and trying to stop freaking out. "Which hospital?"

After getting the address from him, I caught a taxi to the only hospital in town and prayed to God that Jane was okay. The one thing she'd asked for was backup and I couldn't even give her that. If I'd just looked at my messages sooner... fuck.

Getting past the front desk and to Jane's room was no issue at all. A quick flash of my FBI badge was enough for the receptionist to give me the details and wave me through. My heart was constricting in my chest the longer it took. What if it was really bad? What if that customer's intel was outdated and Jane was– no. I couldn't afford to think like that.

Upon finding Jane's room, I spotted an older man leaving through the door, being careful to close it behind him. I didn't recognise him at all.

"Excuse me," I called, earning his attention. "Is that Jane Banner's room you just came from?"

He seemed surprised, glancing over his shoulder to make sure I was speaking to him, before nodding. "Yes. Sorry, who are you?"

I pulled my badge from my pocket and showed him, though I doubted anyone would take me seriously when my eyes were watering at thought of Jane being severely injured.

"I'm her friend," I said, swallowing down the lump in my throat before lowering my badge.

"Oh, you're the backup that didn't come," he said with realisation.

My eyes flickered to the floor guiltily. He wasn't exactly wrong.

"I didn't mean it like that," he added quickly. "Sorry, I didn't mean to upset you."

I shook my head, lifting my eyes to meet his. "It's okay. I should've... I should've been here." It went quiet as he didn't know what to say, so I looked to him halfheartedly. "I assume you're from the police department, one of the ones who helped Jane."

"Not exactly," he said, before putting out his hand for me to shake. "Name's Cory. I'm a hunter by trade."

Returning his handshake, I recalled Jane's voicemail. "Oh, yeah, she mentioned you... thank you for helping her out."

When I couldn’t, I added in my head.

He offered me a small smile and I couldn't find it in myself to return it. I must have looked like shit, since he gave me a pitiful gaze.

"You want me to catch you up before you go in?" he asked, nodding to Jane's door. "She's okay by the way."

I nodded, sucking up a breath. My nerves were eating away at me the longer I didn't see Jane – half of me was terrified of what I'd find, and the other half was afraid she'd be upset or angry because I left her to it, even when she pleaded for my help.

Cory and I took a seat down the hall and he proceeded to explain about the case and how they found the guy who raped that poor girl. The shootout was the worst bit, making me shiver with discomfort. Apparently, Jane had gotten blasted with a shotgun, puncturing her torso and neck despite the vest she wore. All of the officers with her were killed and by the sounds of it, Jane almost was, too. But Cory managed to take out the criminals and the rapist himself. When he was finished telling me, I had no words.

"She's a bit shaken up, but her surgery went well," Cory reassured with a short nod. "Does she know you're coming?"

I shook my head, voice thick with emotion. "She wouldn't answer her phone. I guess I know why now."

Cory nodded, rubbing the back of his neck before sparing me a consoling glance. "She talked about you a lot. I think it'll cheer her up seeing you. You should go."

My eyes met his, teary and stinging with unshed tears. "Thank you so much."

He shrugged bashfully, but he didn't realise all that he'd done. I gave him a small, tight smile before standing up with a sigh. No point dwelling anymore – I had to see her.

Pushing my selfish feelings aside, I sucked it up and approached Jane's room. She would either want to punch me or not, but either way, I had to see if she was okay. And so, when I opened the door slightly, heart racing in my chest, said heart jumped in my throat at the sight of her.

She was laying on the bed with wires stuck in her and, only from what I could see, bandages were covering the side of her neck. I thought she was sleeping at first, but then her head tilted towards the door curiously, and bright blue eyes widened with disbelief.

"Y/N?" she asked, raising her eyebrows. "What are you– how did you get here?"

I closed the door behind me and hesitantly approached her bedside, unable to stop my eyes from soaking in the sight of her. She looked so feeble and vulnerable and unlike how I saw her last. Then, Cory's words came back to me and I began to imagine the worst scenario of her getting shot, blood seeping from her wounds, the life draining from her eyes...

"Y/N," she called, and I looked to her startlingly, hoping I didn't look as troubled as I felt.

"Sorry," I said, clearing my throat. "I, er– the messages. Voicemail. I heard them and tried calling you back, but..."

She pursed her lips, exhaling with a wince and looking up at the ceiling, as if suddenly remembering she left messages in the first place.

"I'm sorry I didn't come sooner," I said quietly, guilt seeping back in.

"No, no, don't be," she said, and I just about noticed the pink dusting her cheeks. "It's not your fault. I shouldn't have interrupted your vacation like that. I know you said you wanted a break and–"

"Jane, no, don't even say that," I cut her off, reaching for her hand in an instant. She looked my way, eyes flickering between mine nervously. I squeezed her hand gently and said, "I should have been here. You needed me and I– I didn't come. Maybe if I had, this could have ended differently."

She tried to smile, but I could see the discomfort in her eyes. "It's not that bad, honestly. It just looks bad."

I pressed my lips together, eyes falling to the bandage on her neck. Even though it was big and covered her wound, I could still make out the bruising around it from the impact of the shell. I didn't imagine the torso wound looking any different, and that thought alone made me regret leaving her alone. It was very much as bad as it looked; I knew that and she knew that.

Her lips trembled as she avoided my eyes, her own tearing up. I pushed away my guilt momentarily and changed the subject.

"So, I met Cory. He seems like a great guy."

She didn't say anything as she seemed lost in thought. Either that or she was trying not to cry in front of me. I hoped it wasn't the latter, since the last thing I wanted was to make her feel uncomfortable.

"You know," I said, when she wouldn't speak, "I'm pretty sure I told you to stay safe before I left for my vacation."

At my poor attempt to lighten the mood, she cracked a small, tight smile, but a smile nonetheless, and my racing heart slowed down momentarily.

"I'm glad you're okay," I said, now that I had her attention again, and she looked my way with a softened expression. "Kind of okay. But you know... okay."

Thankfully, she knew what I meant and her hand tightened around mine.

"I'm glad you came," she returned, and I couldn't look away even if I tried. She was always able to trap me with a single gaze.

With a tug of her hand, she motioned for me to sit on the edge of her bed, so I did. And then she began to ask me about my vacation, what I'd been up to this past month, how my parents were... basically anything and everything except for the case. And it was understandable, since she was reminded of it all the time. If I could be a form of escapism for her, so be it. It was the least I could do.

We spoke for hours until the nurse came in to let me know visiting hours were over and I'd have to come back tomorrow. With a regretful sigh, I got up from my seat on her bedside and stretched my limbs.

"Where are you staying?" she asked, a slight frown on her lips.

I smiled awkwardly, realising I didn't think that far ahead. "I'm not gonna lie, I don't know. I came straight here. There's gotta be a hotel or something in this town, right?"

She nodded and flicked her hand to the shelves on the other side of the room. "You should stay in my room in the inn. Key's in my bag over there."

"Oh, I don't have to do that–"

"Y/N, it's not like I'm going to be staying there anytime soon," she cut me off, smiling halfheartedly. "Please."

I chewed on my lip and nodded, giving in. When I grabbed her keys from her bag, I stopped by her bedside and gave her a supportive smile.

"I'll back first thing in the morning, if you don't mind," I said, and she finally gave me a smile that reached her eyes.

"I'd like that."

I nodded, resting a hand on hers and squeezing comfortingly. "Goodnight."

—

Though I knew Jane was okay, I still couldn't stop myself from thinking about her all night. The sight of her wounds and the broken expression on her face was enough to keep me awake. And the guilt that came with it all... why couldn't I have just picked up my damn phone?

As promised, I returned to Jane's hospital room the next morning, this time bringing some breakfast snacks from the hospital cafeteria since I knew the food would be much better than whatever they were serving her. Judging by the content expression on her face when I gave it to her, I was right.

When she finished eating, she was able to sit up slightly and move over on her bed, urging for me to join her and watch some TV with her. There was no way I was going to turn down that offer, so I slid next to her and kept a packet of sliced apples between us as we watched whatever was playing on the TV.

About halfway through watching, she spoke up randomly, taking me by surprise.

"When are you leaving?"

I tore my gaze from the screen and realised she was staring at me with intense green eyes.

"When you're well enough to," I answered truthfully.

She looked down to her hands. "You don't have to stay with me. You can go."

I studied her profile, knowing it was the wrong time to appreciate how stunning she looked even when she was makeup-free, sporting a bed head and tired.

"Do you want me to go?" I asked softly, afraid I may have overstepped.

She was quick to shake her head slightly, finally lifting her gaze to meet mine with glossy ones. "No."

I nodded, trying very hard not to smile, cleared my throat and grabbed her hand. "Then I'm not leaving. I'll be right here until you get better and I can take you home."

A ragged breath escaped her lips as she nodded in response. We both looked back to the TV and I noticed she didn't let go of my hand, her fingers warm to the touch and giving me goosebumps at the contact. But I wouldn't have had it any other way.

[astro-rain]

delicate; b.barnes

chapter twelve - “it’s hovercraft time, bucky barnes”

delicate masterlist

word count: 2.4k

synopsis: neither bucky nor y/n can sleep... until they do. and the next day brings them an unexpected, but pleasant surprise.

pairings: bucky barnes x fem!reader

It was four in the morning when the psychologist and the super soldier got in their respective beds after the nightmare. Y/N laid on her side in the bunk across from Bucky, facing away from him and staring at the wall. Her body wanted to sleep but her mind kept whirring on and on, worrying about him.

It wouldn't be that bad if she could just ignore it. It wouldn't be so bad if she wasn't wide awake also thinking about how it would be utterly impossible for him to have any eye color other than blue.

She sighed. Christ almighty, just go to sleep.

About twenty minutes passed before she heard it.

"Why are you still up?" he mumbled.

She turned over to her other side, dramatically, staring at his silhouette in the dark.

"How could you possibly know that?"

"I'm a trained assassin," he said, as a matter of fact. "I can recognize breath patterns."

"Yeah, well I know for a fact that you aren't even trying to fall back asleep."

"How could you possibly know that?" he repeated her question.

"I just do," she stated before turning on her back and staring straight up.

He scoffed playfully.

"What?" she asked.

Her tone wasn't as playful. It wasn't angry or annoyed; she could never be with him. But, it was void of emotion and her usual sarcastic cadence. She didn't enjoy people reading her like that. She knew he wasn't, but it felt like she was being called out for caring so much. She wanted to rein in her own compassion, but she couldn't help the way he softened her.

"That's just code for 'I'm a trained psychologist and I know how you're gonna react to nightmares.'"

She replied with silence, desperately trying to end the conversation so she could try to sleep and leave this night behind.

"Sorry, did I- did I say something?" he asked.

"No, you're good."

Part of her felt bad for being short with him, but she needed it to be over. She needed to somehow distance herself from her own feelings.

"I'm sorry if I woke you up with the nightmare and messed with you being able to fall back asleep. I know it's... a lot."

He's sorry. He's sorry?

"Don't you dare apologize. It's not your fault, and it's not even why I can't fall back asleep."

"What's the problem then?"

"It's nothing. Just try and get some sleep."

"Yeah... about that..."

"Will you have another?"

"Not  sure. I don't wanna find out."

"I know. And I'm sorry. Sleep shouldn't be this menacing, but you should still try anyway. Your body needs it."

"So does yours."

Y/N let out an exasperated sigh. There she went caring again and he kept deflecting. Her frustrations about her own emotions came out in stubborn defiance.

"I'm not sleeping until you do."

"Guess we're both stayin' up then."

"Bucky," she gently admonished.

"Y/N I can't- that... was the worst one I've had in a while."

That was it. Any and all aggravation faded to nothing, and her cheeks were hot with guilt. To hell with it; she refused to leave him to pain. She then got out of her bunk. Carefully, she maneuvered out and kneeled on the floor, facing him. She felt bad; she didn't mean to push him.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm sorry, I should know better."

He mirrored her actions, slipping out of his own bunk and kneeling on the floor in front of her

"It's okay," he didn't miss a beat. His voice was as soft of hers. "Thank you."

He was closer now, so she could see a more detailed outline of him. She never really noticed just how large he was. Just his arm looked as big as her head. He was supposed to look frightening, but... she just couldn't see it.

"If you don't wanna sleep that's okay. I'll stay up with you so you don't have to be alone."

"Y/N..."

"I'm already up, I don't mind," she countered. "Seriously. I'm wide awake now. Honestly, I don't even know if I could fall back asleep if I tried."

"I can't ask you to stay up and babysit just 'cause you feel bad."

She scooted forward, determined not to lose to deflection again. Babysit? and Cause you feel bad? How could he truly think so little of himself?

"I am definitely not babysitting. I just happened to be awake at the same time you are... and not because I feel bad."

He scooted forward a couple inches, squinting, trying to decipher her facial expressions. "I can't tell if you're joking or not just from your tone of voice."

In the very back of her head it returned: that hazy enchantment feeling that swelled from her lungs through her brain stem every time she was this close to him. It is important to note - it was in the very back of her brain, and if you ignore something long enough, you can convince yourself it's not there.

"James Buchanan, I am awake and there's not a thing you can do about it."

"Alright," he sighed. "I don't know if you're expecting some kind of entertainment, but I can't really juggle with one arm..."

"I can't juggle with two."

"Ever been to the circus?"

"No."

He laughed. "Oh man, you're missin' out."

"No, I got the clown right here."

"Wow, is that how it is?"

"Depends. You got face paint and a rainbow wig?"

"Smartass."

The air was quiet after their breathy laughs fizzled out. A few moments of awkwardness quietly passed, both unsure of what to say next.

"You know when you're in the dark, your pupils dilate to take in as much light as they can in order to see better?" Y/N asked.

"I think I knew that? I'm not sure, I might've heard it somewhere. Why do you ask?"

"I don't know. I can't see your face super well, so it made me think of it. I can barely even see your eyes."

"Maybe that's better," he chuckled. "I don't know if they're still blood shot from earlier."

"Like I'd care."

"Why wouldn't you?"

"What?"

"Why wouldn't you care? I feel like seeing someone's puffy face and post-cry eyes would be kinda gross."

"You really think I care if your eyes are red or puffy?" she questioned. "Buck, I know I'm probably not supposed to say this because technically I'm your doctor, but I honestly consider you a really good friend. I'd be more worried to see that you've been crying than be aversive to it."

He scoffed in honest disbelief.

"What?"

"I just can't wrap my head around the fact that you think that way about me..."

"What do you mean?"

"...the person I am, the things I've done, the..." he shook his head, "the horrors I've committed..."

"The horrors you've committed are not who you are. I know you see yourself in a lot of different ways because it's hard to un-learn what other people have decided you are: a monster, a ghost, an asset, a machine, an assassin, a weapon, whatever. But have you ever considered that you're just human after all? You're a man who got dealt a shit hand in life. But there is still light in him... light that never left, no matter how hard they tried to beat it out of you. You're a survivor, Buck."

Bucky took a deep breath in, contemplating, before turning and laying on his back. They both remained on the floor, Y/N kneeling a few inches away from the side of Bucky's supine figure. He stared straight up at the ceiling.

"Sometimes I think I'm a better 'ghost' than I am a human being. My mind's a mess, and even though I'm trying, I still can't help but feel like I've lost who I am."

"You haven't lost who you are. You're just different now, and that's okay."

He looked up at her. "How do you always know what to say?"

"I know everything."

Y/N smiled, following Bucky's laugh, allowing the somber atmosphere to lighten up a bit. They so easily slipped in and out of the therapy dynamic, but now it seemed more like a heartfelt conversation between friends rather than treatment between doctor and patient.

"I consider you a really good friend too by the way - closest one I've had since Steve."

"Wow, really? That's an honor."

"Not really," he chuckled. "Steve's a punk."

And there she went laughing again. In one way or another she always found herself laughing around him.

However, she found it more confusing than funny when she woke up the following morning to find herself sitting on the floor, leaning against one of the beds with Bucky's head in her lap. She found her hands resting on his head protectively, fingers slightly carded through his long hair. She woke up before him... That's a first.

Y/N looked down at him. He was fast asleep; he looked peaceful and so relaxed. It was such a rare state to see him in, so she gave herself a few more seconds to study how his face looked when it was completely tranquil before she smoothed her hand along the back of his head and replaced her lap with a pillow.

-

"Hey," a raspy voice called out.

Y/N turned around from her seat at the table, hands still wrapped around the cup of tea she made herself a few minutes prior.

Bucky was awake, sitting up, but still in his previous spot on the floor.

"Hey. You want some tea?"

He stood up, nodding and stretching his back. "Did I fall back asleep?"

"You did," she smiled. "I'm pleased. I told you you needed the rest."

He seemed pleasantly surprised. "And on the floor too. Very classy."

She raised her mug to him, as if to make a toast. "Classiest man I know."

He laughed before grabbing the kettle and realizing it was empty.

"Shoot. We're outta water."

"It's alright. We know where to find the waterfall. You want to go get more?"

"Mm hm."

"Alright, I'll just finish my tea and go out in a few minutes."

"Don't be ridiculous. I'm coming too."

"You sure? You just woke up. You can take some time to just relax if you want."

"No. I'm going."

"Stubborn. I can go myself, you know. I know the way."

"Would you let me go by myself?"

Y/N was silent for a moment before sighing.

"Get your shoes."

-

"You know, there was really no reason to almost push me into the water," Bucky commented as they were making their way back to the shelter after restocking their water supply.

"I wasn't actually going to!"

"You might as well have! My life flashed before my eyes!"

"Bet that took forever. You wanna backtrack? I can do it for real this time."

"I'm throwin' you in next time."

"You couldn't throw me," she challenged.

"Like a football," he countered, smirking.

"I don't wanna test that theory."

Their banter continued as they continued walking, making sure they were in the tree line and not out in the open. Bucky was always cautious. He was able to laugh with her while still making sure they were safe. That was until his arm was suddenly around the front of her shoulders, and holding her against his chest as his back was flush against a tree, effectively hiding them both from sight. She just stared forward, barely registering how fast he swiveled both of them around.

"There's someone at the bunker. I'm sorry- didn't want us to be seen."

He removed his arm, but her feet were stuck. She had never been close to him like this before; she didn't know what to think of it. She stepped forward a bit, breaking the contact but still facing away from him. She was hyperaware of their proximity but that quickly dissipated as she registered what he said.

"What did you see?"

"There were a couple people, but I didn't get a great look 'cause I moved out of sight fast. One woman, two men? I think."

His tone and demeanor reminded her of that day Shuri told them they had to go in hiding. He was so calm and collected. She forgot situations like these were practically muscle memory to him.

"Do you think someone found us? What were they doing?"

"I only saw 'em for a second, I'm not sure. Stay still, I'm gonna look."

As soon as his head peaked around the tree, so did Y/N's, ignoring his order.

"Wait, I think that's Shuri."

"Are you sure?"

"Pretty sure. I don't know if I'd bet my life on it."

"What's that other thing?"

"The hovercraft?"

"Hovercraft? God, I love this place."

"Wait, see the crest on the hovercraft - that's the one only Shuri can unlock."

"Alright, just... stay behind me. Okay?"

"Okay."

The two slowly made their way towards the three Wakandans. Y/N actually listened this time and stayed behind Bucky. As soon as they were in sight, Shuri came running up to them.

"Y/N!" she exclaimed, immediately throwing herself into the psychologist, embracing her.

She was startled at first, arms awkwardly hanging by her sides before her brain finally caught up to her and she brought her arms up lightly, returning the hug.

"Shuri! What happened?"

"We won!" Shuri grinned. "It's a long and complicated story, but the rightful King never died. My brother has reclaimed his place on the throne. Wakanda is ours once again!"

A monumental weight was lifted from Y/N's shoulders. She sighed in relief, knowing she was no longer in danger, knowing Bucky was no longer in danger.

"That's incredible. I'm so glad everything's okay, and I'm so glad to see you."

"I'm glad to see you too, my partner," Shuri hugged her once more before addressing Bucky. "Sergeant Barnes. I'm sorry for all the trouble. I hope everything was alright?"

"We've been getting along just fine," he nodded. "Thank you."

Shuri called over the two other men - royal guards that came with her - before turning back to Y/N and Bucky.

"You've been camped out here in hiding long enough. Let us go home."

As they walked behind the Wakandan princess, Y/N nudged Bucky with her elbow.

"It's hovercraft time, Bucky Barnes," she managed to say through a face numbing smile.

delicate taglist: @bakugouswh0r3 @thefridgeismybestie @strivingforelegance

[wistfulrat]

this week’s fics! feat. bakeries, bookshops, bisexual awakenings of the angsty and fluffy sort, wolfstar goddads being tender as hell, desi harry reconnecting with his culture, domestic drarry, a lap dance set to akon’s smack that, and more!

But That’s History by @ebbet - 54k - T Harry Potter starts his first year as Muggle Studies Professor only to find that Draco Malfoy has been hired to teach History of Magic.

listen to me. this is one of the funniest drarry fics i've ever read. i was cackling in my bed at 2am because harry’s internal monologues throughout this fic are unhinged. insanely quotable. “what was he, a lothario” and “you were crushing me with your muscular thighs!” are lines that live rent free in my empty head. harry has never played anything cool a day in his life. there’s a faculty meeting where the teachers are planning the yule ball and debating the merits of a DJ when harry decides he must defend his muggle-music-loving honor by dancing seductively to akon’s smack that while a blushing draco loses his mind. i fucking screamed. and the best part is that in between the comedic scenes threading the overall story, you have extremely tender moments of like, padma patil helping harry become a more rooted desi by sharing their cultural traditions, harry proudly donning his sherwani. draco wrestling with his past, going to harry’s lgbtq+ club for students, being sheepish with ron and hermione. ugh, comedic writers with emotional depth are clever and talented as hell!!

Realities, Unfurling by @ebbet - 45k - M Draco Malfoy is released from Azkaban into a changed world.

incredible collage-fic told from multiple povs. 8yrs post-war and everything’s changed. the current state of the magical world unfolds via slice-of-life snapshots from a truly stunning cast. non-binary harry whom is running a non-prof org dedicated to building tolerance and establishing equality for marginalized identities. post-prison-release draco whose life will be changed by the internet. neville’s tender relationship with blaise. andromeda’s fiercely protective mothering. remus and sirius being alive and very hot and just, the tender goddads harry deserved. cho chang being brilliant. baker pansy’s softened edges. found families abound. harry being flustered by their crush on draco and making personalized playlists on an iPod nano.

that all might sound narratively cluttered but the author more than pulls this off. glorious, start to finish.

Knead by @jovialobservationanchor (an @hd-erised​ fic) - 83k - E This is not a story about Harry renovating Grimmauld Place. This is a story about coffee shops and brewpubs, about Ginny and Luna on a farm with creatures, about magical Oregon, coastal road trips, flying, friendship, and Draco Malfoy's lean arms.

cinematic. a love letter to oregon’s expansive landscapes and lively cities. it’s harry finding home in unexpected places and people. in the vast silence of rolling fields, endless coasts, and starry night skies big enough to feel like you’re adrift in space. and it’s also the lingering, intimate quiet of early mornings in a bakery, sitting on a park bench overlooking the city as you eat ice cream next to your crush. it’s harry watching ginny and luna dance and work around each other like bees. it’s the slow unfolding of harry and draco’s relationship as they fill each other’s quiet. finishing this fic is like waking from a good dream. transporting, immersive, lovely. 

Harry Potter and the Bisexual Awakening by @writcraft - 20k - E Harry is perfectly content being single, heterosexual and living in Godric's Hollow with his very clingy rescue dog, Snitch. When Draco Malfoy turns up on Harry's doorstep demanding that Harry teach him how to drive, things quickly become a lot more complicated.

first of all, i feel very seen by draco being a gay-who-can’t-drive. it’s called representation. but mostly i love the ease of harry and draco’s banter, a flustered harry discovering his sexuality, and the way this fic addresses biphobia. also very emo over this exchange: “I think I might be scared of you, but probably not for the reasons you think.” “Yes.” Draco stares at Harry. “I think I might be scared of you too.”

Forged through flowing water by @tedahfromtayla (an @hd-erised​ fic) - 40k - E When Hermione sets up a diplomatic mission to begin repairing the damage British colonisation did to Indian magical communities Harry isn’t going to pass on the opportunity to visit and help his family’s home country. Maybe he should have asked a few more questions about the personnel she had recruited for it before signing on because Malfoy surely has an ulterior motive to be there.

so much to love about this fic. the beautiful settings, from kolkata to mumbai, to the holi festival and colorful lively streets, to remote cave settlements and old intricate temples. it’s harry in the homeland, reconnecting to his family’s heritage and confronting the weight of imperialism in his history. it’s nipping the white savior complex in the bud. this part: That is what England left behind. That is what it still stands for, despite whatever mask of respectability and honour it presents. . .You don't get to step aside and let someone else deal with the mess. You have to listen and learn and then act, Malfoy, you need to learn how to fix your own mess. This is why we're here. my indigenous ass cheered. HP certainly sells the british fantasy but HP fanfic?? fuck jkr, fuck the crown. i love that this fic doesn’t romanticize england’s history. i love that we get to see the vast resilience and beauty of post-colonial india.

Purity Control by yrfrndfrnkly - 28k - T In which Harry tries to ignore his trauma with fantasy Quidditch but Malfoy's Thereness™ is distracting and all his classmates want to talk about are unicorns, virginity, and Muggle music.

tender 8th year fics where they go from bristly as fuck to understanding and soft 100% guaranteed to make me emo as hell. all the teens have traumas and no one wants to talk about it but eventually Things are Talked About. it’s good of the adults to finally notice. everyone just wants someone to hold their hand. and this part: “You’re the only person around here who’s a bigger mess than I am.” “I thought maybe we could be a mess together,” pls don’t look at me as i weep over their gentle empathy.

Advent, a comic by dustmouth - WIP - T It's Harry and Draco's first Christmas together and Draco is determined to live his full yuletide fantasy, come hell or high water.

dustmouth, patron saint of whimsical drarry. whose illustrations singlehandedly reinvented wizarding fashion. whose cheeky and tender comics are like a soothing balm to the utter depravity of this carnal world. harry and draco being domestic, draco’s xmas spirit brand being “traditional unhinged”!! extremely my shit. we’ll absolutely be reading this all december.

Little Spaces by @dracoladon and @lazywonderlvnd​ - WIP - E Draco's back from France and working on the spell damage ward at St Mungo's with Hermione, who invites him over for dinner. Without telling Harry. This is a roleplay, which means Harry is written by one author (lazywonderland) and Draco by another (dracoladon).

the switch in distinct character voices works so well for this fic!! tonally i feel like i'm watching an episode of the office. i personally love harry and draco being Pissed Off at how much they want to bone each other. the battle of the tapenade was the most riveting dinner scene i've read in a minute. clever, hilarious, emotionally tense. can’t wait until that inevitable moment post hate-sex when they’re gonna be like “oh noooo it’s a Heart Boner as well!! >:((” hell ya we’re subscribing for chapter updates.

Dragons Don’t Know Paradise by @teacup-tai​ - WIP - E In 2004, when Remus spends two scary weeks in the ITU due to complications of pneumonia and his HIV condition, Sirius walks around the house like a ghost and Harry finds comfort and strength in Draco through a chat in an online LGBT forum. Harry falls for him, but Draco has a lot of secrets and, before long, will need to come clean—even if he believes that no one is able to understand a dragon.

non-magical bookshop AU. remus and sirius’ relationship is a marvel. the ease of their affection with harry makes me so emo. draco’s friends being insistently present even as he tries to isolate himself. this is a story about acceptance, found families, and falling in love at a distance. the intimacy, the longing, the tenderness. what a fic!! i keep coming back to this part:...he looks at ease, inside his body, a body he needed to fight for. He’d made peace with his struggles and his scars. And Draco realises he wants that. He wants to be at ease inside his body, the body that now carries a virus. He wants to be at peace with his own existence. you hurt for draco so deeply but you get moments like these where he affords himself a kindness that feels foreign and it’s just!! the boys navigating grief and learning to be vulnerable. so good.

[mellometal]

Is it time to tear ANOTHER Dhar Mann video to shreds? YOU BET.

I've been sitting on this one for a bit because I wanted to make sure I talk about this tactfully. The subject of parents abandoning their disabled children is a very touchy one.

Parents abandoning their disabled children simply for being disabled is way too common. Like, I understand that not everyone has the resources to care for a disabled child (which is why you reach out for help, and why people like me, who work with disabled people, exist), but it doesn't mean you just walk out of their life. There are exceptions, like if you truly didn't want children or something like that, but just flat-out walking out of your kid's life BECAUSE they're disabled is fucked up.

I know someone personally whose biological mother abandoned her when she was born. Why? Because she's disabled. Physically, and mentally, to a point. I work with this woman on a daily basis. I don't really know WHY exactly her biological mother abandoned her, but I do know that her being disabled was part of it. It's sad. It doesn't affect her, thankfully. I'm happy that she's got her biological dad, her brother, and another maternal figure in her life, at least.

ANYWAYS. Before we get to the topic at hand, I need to put an obligatory trigger warning, like I do with EVERY Dhar Mann post:

This post will be talking about parents abandoning their disabled children simply for being disabled, treating disabilities like they're tragedies (in this case, we're talking about autism...again), divorce, and some SPICY ableist bullshit from an allistic (nonautistic) PIECE OF SHIT.

If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable in any way, you don't have to read this post. This isn't worth putting yourself in a bad state mentally. I would never ask for any of you to put yourselves in that position all for a post. Put your mental health and well-being first. Consume media that sparks joy for you.

As far as my response goes, it's definitely more calm than normal. Funny....since this video is about autism spectrum disorder again. (Third time's the charm, huh, Dhar Mann? NOT.)

LET'S FUCKING GET IT.

The video starts off with these two parents (Gwen and Allen) in a psychologist's office. The psychologist tells the parents that their son (Chance) is autistic, and she tries to explain what autism is to the parents, but Allen cuts her off. Why? Because he teaches at a prestigious university, so he AUTOMATICALLY knows what autism is from that fact alone.

Um, excuse me? Just because you're a teacher at a prestigious university, it doesn't mean you're an expert in everything. It doesn't make you an expert in ASD or anything like that. Unless you SPECIALIZE in that area. Even then, shut the fuck up. The people who know about being autistic are AUTISTIC PEOPLE THEMSELVES! SHOCKER.

Hey, Dhar Mann! QUIT WITH THE VIDEOS ABOUT AUTISTIC LITTLE WHITE BOYS AND YOUNG WHITE AUTISTIC CISHET MEN! I'M SICK AND TIRED OF IT. It's annoying, ignorant, and it feels like you're doing this on purpose at this point to piss people off. If you're so uninformed about autism in women and girls, FUCKING ASK AUTISTIC WOMEN AND GIRLS! DO BETTER RESEARCH THAT DOESN'T INVOLVE AUTISM SPEAKS. The Autism Self Advocacy Network (ASAN) and the Autistic Women and Nonbinary People Network (AWN) are great organizations to go to for any kind of research on ASD in women and girls. STOP GOING OFF OF THE BRAINS OF AUTISTIC WHITE BOYS AND AUTISTIC WHITE MEN.

I don't feel I need to go too deep into the fact that autistic women, autistic girls, autistic nonbinary people, autistic BIPOC, autistic AAPI, autistic LGBT people, autistic teenagers, and autistic adults exist. Y'all already know.

Gwen asks the psychologist if that means Chance isn't healthy. (I understand not knowing about autism, but don't treat it like it's a terminal illness. Please.) The psychologist tells her that Chance is fine, but he just learns differently and might need more support compared to his peers.

Yeah, autism can affect how you learn about certain things (limited and repetitive patterns), but there are other disabilities that can affect learning as well. Like how dyslexia can affect your ability to read, dyspraxia can affect your ability to do math, and Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD) can affect your ability to focus or on impulse control. Autism affects how your brain is developed, it affects you socially, behaviorally, and how you communicate.

Allen is upset, says that he can't have a son "with a learning disability" (ASD is a neurological disability, not necessarily a learning disability), and treats Chance like he's stupid for being autistic. Gwen tells her husband that autism doesn't make you any less intelligent, WHICH IS SO FUCKING TRUE. ABSOLUTE FACTS. I was totally with her until she began that little monologue with "Just because a person HAS autism". SAY "JUST BECAUSE A PERSON'S AUTISTIC" INSTEAD! IT'S NOT HARD. PERSON FIRST LANGUAGE ISN'T WHAT EVERY DISABLED PERSON PREFERS. Allen says that "they could have another kid" and "put Chance up for adoption". Gwen obviously wasn't down with that. Allen gives his wife an ultimatum that it's either HIM or their son Chance. Gwen says that she can't choose between the two, but she will stand by her autistic son. Allen gets up and leaves the office, saying he wants a divorce.

Years pass by, Gwen is single and taking care of her autistic son Chance, and Allen has a new life with a ✨perfect son✨ (Samuel). He never mentions the son HE abandoned (Chance). He's completely forgotten about Gwen and Chance. (YOU OWE SO MUCH CHILD SUPPORT, ALLEN.)

Hey, Allen, how much do you wanna bet that your ✨perfect son✨ Samuel is autistic too?

There's the SATs, they're announcing a winner, and guess who it is? IT'S OBVIOUSLY CHANCE, OF COURSE. He's got the highest score in the country, with Samuel in second place. Allen is PISSED.

Chance gives a speech about how his mom really helped him, he struggled with autism, how Allen LITERALLY ABANDONED HIM, and THE CROWD GOES FUCKING WILD. Samuel, instead of being a sore loser, APPLAUDS FOR CHANCE. Stay humble, Sam.

My thoughts on the video? If you cannot tell by my tone throughout this post, IT WAS DOG SHIT. This video was insensitive to the true reality of parents abandoning their disabled children just because they're disabled. What do I expect from Dhar Mann at this point?

Here's my response to his video below. Don't worry, I will fully type out my response soon for anyone who cannot read the screenshots easily. It's a lot easier for me to do that on the desktop site than it is for me to do it on my phone.

For anyone who can’t read my response, I’m typing it out for you. Like I said, it’s easier for me to type it out on the desktop site than it is for me to type it out on my phone. It’s a real royal pain in the ass. But because I’m trying to make my posts easier to read for people, I’m doing this anyway. /lighthearted

First, second, and third screenshots (broken up into paragraphs):

Hey, listen, I appreciate the message you’re trying to go for, but can you please stop putting autistic people into a box? Can you stop treating being autistic like it’s a tragedy? Not every single autistic person is a little white boy in elementary school who’s considered “wild and unruly” or “super quiet and makes no friends”, nor are they a young white cishet man who’s a super genius or is how Chris Chan was before she came out as trans. (For anyone who doesn’t know about Chris Chan, there are many documentaries people have made on YouTube, and I highly recommend Geno Samuel’s docuseries, if you’re really interested in learning about Chris Chan.)

Autistic women, girls, nonbinary people, BIPOC, APPI, LGBT people, teenagers, and adults all exist too. 

It’s very apparent now that you get your resources from Autism $peaks, a hate group that spends the vast majority of their money on funding eugenics instead of helping autistic people like they claim, claims that only little white boys and young white cishet men are autistic and ignores all other autistic people who don’t fit that description, have no autistic people on their leader board or on any board for that matter, have members who have actually fantasized about k1lling their autistic children, treat autism like it’s a tragedy or a disease someone can catch (completely false), act like autism should be cured (there is no cure, and ABA therapy is a total shit show in itself), and treats autistic people like they’re broken and need to be fixed. Also, not every autistic person is a Super Genius(tm). That’s so demeaning to autistic people who aren’t seen as intelligent in any way. I’m autistic and seen as smart; however, there are subjects I’m stronger in than others.

If you can’t handle the possibility of having autistic children, or just disabled children in general, DON’T HAVE CHILDREN. If you can’t handle working with or alongside disabled people, including autistic people, maybe find a different profession. Even if you do that, you’ll never get away from disabled people. Disabled people aren’t a disease. We’re human beings just like neurotypical and able-bodied people.

Fourth and fifth screenshots (broken up into paragraphs): 

I would highly suggest getting resources from reputable organizations for ASD, such as the Autism Self Advocacy Network (ASAN) and the Autistic Women and Nonbinary People Network (AWN). Talk to any autistic person who isn’t a little white boy or a young white cishet man. 

Instead of using the puzzle piece, which is a symbol that many autistic people, myself included, are offended by (because of Autism $peaks and other organizations before them using it, plus it symbolizes that only autistic children exist and that we’re “missing a piece” like we’re broken), use the rainbow infinity sign (for all neurodivergent people) or the red and gold infinity sign (just for autistic people). Instead of “lighting it up blue”, light it up red or gold. Do both if you want. 

I’m actually really sick and tired of seeing just autistic little white boys and young autistic white cishet men being represented in the media, and y’all manage to fuck that up too. 

Before anyone mentions Sia’s movie “Music”, that’s also very poor representation of autistic girls. Besides, the actress who played the autistic girl isn’t even autistic. She MOCKED autistic people. I know she’s a kid, but that’s still super fucked up. I hope she’s able to turn that around. 

If anyone would like to discuss this topic with me or ask any questions, feel free to. I’ll answer as best as I can. Thank you and have a good night.

Before I get attacked for mentioning Chris Chan in my response, I bring up Chris Chan because allistic people think that every autistic person is like her (especially before she came out as trans). That person is part of why I wasn't open about being autistic or talking about my diagnosis until this year. I didn't want to be grouped up with Chris Chan because I do have very similar interests to her, I've been seen as cringey for having said interests, and just the way Chris treated autistic people who were formerly diagnosed with A$p3rg3r$ $yndr0m3 (like I was) really made me feel even more alienated.

Also, S1a supports A$ (Autism $p3aks). She's not a very good person to support. Some of her music is good, but her as a person....no. Her movie "Music" was gross, from what I've read about it and seen pictures of.

If you've read this far, thank you so much!

[razrbladekiss]

Tyrants | Chapter Four - Peril

WORD COUNT: 5.1k

WARNINGS: Mentions of death, drug use, Tig being Tig. The usual SOA shit. Sorry Donna..

She always saw the beauty in darkness. The lugubrious belle that came alongside the moon and stars and whatever else lurked amidst the murk of nighttime.

Isla was cliche in that sense.

She was cliche in the sense that she adored watching the sun set, swallowed by the mountains and high-rise buildings as the evening fell and Charming was painted black.

And maybe it was mostly melancholic because of the horrors that swathed that small town, but it was still beautiful nonetheless.

She still liked to bask in the scenery, to discern the marvel of her home, from the highest point she could access. And, sometimes, she liked to take somebody along with her so she wasn't completely alone.

"Why'd you still come up here?" Ope asked, pulling himself onto the roof as she sat with her back to the wall--puffing on a cigarette.

"Because it's quiet." She was content, comfortable with her response. "And whenever I'm looking for Jax, or Gem, or my dad--or they're looking for me--this is where we're almost always found. Just people watching, or reminiscing, or having a few minutes to ourselves away from the chaos downstairs."

It wasn't an unknown safe space--Gemma had told her that JT and Clay would climb up there during the earliest days of the club--but it was special.

Jax, Opie, and Isla spent time up there as kids, too. Because they were bastards and were always running from their fathers--and den mother--and the roof of the clubhouse was their go-to.

She never really got out of that habit. She'd spend hours up there if she could, just watching as Charming bustled beneath her. And she liked that it was separate to the garage, but everyone knew where to find her if they needed her.

"It clears your head, being up here." She added. "I have got so much shit going on right now--between work, and my personal life--but coming up here is like a refreshment, I guess."

Opie understood what she meant because he was also seeking comfort in the night. Riding through dusk, spending time alone on his bike as he cruised the streets of his quaint town, relishing in the darkness because it was strangely comforting to him.

He liked to be alone. His thoughts were brutal and they seared his brain left and fucking right, but he liked his own company.

"Wish I thought about comin' up here when I was released from holding." The man chuckled, balancing a cigarette between his lips. "Stahl grilled the fuck outta me."

"She did?"

"Yeah. She really fuckin' did." He added, grunting as smoke blew from his nostrils. "Did she get you? I know she got Gemma."

"Nope, she didn't. I don't know why, though. She interrogated everyone else. Starting to feel a little left out."

Opie chuckled, smiling a bit. "Be glad. It's obvious that she's used to getting what she wants."

"And did you give it to her?"

"Fuck no." Isla smiled. Proud. "She can cross-examine me all she fuckin' wants—I'll never sell the club out."

"They know that, Ope."

"I know." Half confidently, he nodded. "Just—Stahl made me second guess it all, y'know?"

Nobody in Charming--aside from the PD--knew where that despicable bitch came from, and nobody cared to ask.

What they did know, though, was that she had her heart set on making that town a living fucking hell as she strived to eradicate the Sons of Anarchy by getting to its members.

She'd grilled everyone she could've. She cornered Gemma when she was out running errands, leaving the grocery store with a sour taste in her mouth when Teller told her where to fucking shove it.

Same went for Jax, and Clay, and Chibs, and Tig, and...Well, all of them told her to get fucked, actually.

None of them caved. None of them wanted to sell the club out because there was no reason to.

Well, there was a reason to, but no desire to.

There'd been murders. Three, to be specific. And one of them just happened to be a police officer--which was quite unlucky, but it wasn't awful.

They hated cops.

What they hated more, however, was the idea of getting caught by them. And Clay was. Somehow, anyway.

Piney's old "friend"--Nate Meineke--needed quality, albeit illegal, guns with no traceability to attack the convoy that was transporting one of his friends from point A to point B. And it went as swimmingly as possible...

Until June Stahl was put on the case and found that idiot's phone at the scene after dropping it mid-ambush.

Clay just happened to be the last person he had called. Which then caused the investigation to point toward Charming.

They all knew the Sons were guilty of supplying those weapons. Who else would it have been? They were known for running illegal firearms without batch numbers from a quaint Californian town whose name didn't quite fit its image.

It was blatant, though nobody gave it up.

But Stahl tried her damndest to get answers. And when she didn't, she targeted the member that she saw to be the most vulnerable--after a hit went wrong and he failed to cover his tracks--and Opie just happened to be that guy.

She questioned him for hours. She practically held the man captive in that little cell until he caved. But he didn't--and he wasn't going to, either.

He was loyal. That's one of the reasons why Jax wanted to patch him back in.

"Yeah, I know." Isla got to her feet when she heard Tig yelling for her downstairs. "But you're the strongest guy I know, Ope. I don't think Stahl, of all people, is gonna get to you."

He shrugged her off, flicking the butt of his cigarette to the gravelly ground of the roof.

Opie had changed. Not much, and it wasn't very apparent, but he'd changed. Chino had changed him, she thought.

He was still dedicated to his club, still in love with the reaper and the responsibility that came with the patch--but Opie Winston lacked that flicker of enthusiasm now.

"How does your dad feel about you being back at the table?"

"Said he's proud of me."

He was a man of very, very few words. But the tone that he took--the sheer relief twined into contentment--spoke a greater volume.

Piney would always support his son, feel a sense of gratification from his involvement in the club. And, of course, Ope felt grateful to be back--but it was different now.

He'd served time for his club. Donna consistently argued that they sold him out and that he was fucking stupid for running back into the arms of SAMCRO.

But it was his brotherhood. The Sons of Anarchy were his family--his lifeline. He was nothing if not blessed to be patched back in.

"And I guess that wife of yours isn't too happy about it?"

"How'd you reach that conclusion?"

"Well," she ignored that Tig was waiting for her, standing directly in front of him. "If she was genuinely thrilled about you being back here, she'd have been coming to Gemma's dinners, and spending more time at the clubhouse with us. But she isn't, and I'm starting to realize that she probably hates me now."

His head shook. "She doesn't hate you. It's just...It's just raw. Weird being back, I think."

"She didn't even have to leave. She knows that."

Donna did know that. But there was always something about Gemma. About the way she let things slide so often, how she felt that she had Clay so pussy whipped that he'd be at her every beck and call--but, really, that was redundant. Because Gemma let him get away with fucking murder.

Literally.

"Is she gonna be there tonight?

"Of course. She wouldn't miss Jax's son coming home." He got up, reaching for her hands. "Sorry that she's been so distant with you, Isla. But she's just been stressed out--money worries and the kids and stuff, y'know?"

"Yeah, I know."

Donna wasn't traditionally a worrier. But five years worth of finances, being a single mom, and fretting over her husband potentially not making it out of prison alive, just did that to a woman.

"Anything I can do to help?"

"I don't think so." Grateful for her offering, though recognizing how damn stubborn his wife was, he conceded. "Thanks, though."

"Anytime. And if you change your mind, or need me, you know where I am--"

"Isla!"

"He is getting on my last fucking nerve today." She groaned, flipping Tig off as she looked over the ledge. "I'm coming! Give me a minute!"

"I've given you plenty of minutes! Just get your ass down here!"

"Just go," Ope chuckled, leaning down to peck her cheek. "We can have this talk another time."

Isla turned back to him, frowning. "Are you sure?"

"Absolutely. Go 'n talk to him--I'll see you tonight."

He was such a nice guy. So considerate, kind.

She loved him a lot.

The flouncy sundress rose to the middle of her thighs as she sauntered through the clubhouse, hearing Trager talking--rather conspicuously, though slightly muffled--to somebody on his cell.

"C'mon, Tiggy. Why'd you yell at me?"

He waved his hand to shut her up, gesturing for the blonde to follow him out of the clubhouse and toward his bike.

"Yeah, cool. K, brother--see 'ya later. Bye." He hung up and slid the phone into the pocket of his cut, swiveling to face Isla with a smile. "You ready?"

"For what?"

"The party?" Tig told her, watching confusion sweep over her face. "I'm taking you over 'cuz you want a drink and don't wanna drive home after? And that you're probably gonna end up heading home with Juice, or something--"

"Juice?"

"It always happens," he shrugged, pointing at the helmet he set out for her at the back of his bike. "We all head out, you get too drunk, you take a liking to Juicy, and you try to ride his dick."

"What?" Isla got herself situated behind him as he got on first, her arms wound around his waist. "That was one time. I've only slept with him once, and I told you it'd never happen again."

"And why is that?"

Her cheeks flushed red, the engine revving sending vibrations through her entire frame.

"Because he was too gentle." Tig's foot collided with the kickstand.

"And the little Catholic girl likes it rough."

She felt the solid gold crucifix burning a hole into her chest.

"Yes. I like it rough." He groaned, leaning into her. She swatted at his chest over his shoulder, laughing heartily. "Just take me to see the baby, dickhead."

The bike sped out of the lot and Isla was loving the thrill of being on two wheels. She'd always liked being stuck to the back of somebody's Harley--but she'd never own one herself.

Isla was like Gemma. She felt stable enough riding with somebody, but riding alone--being in control of the motorcycle--was fucking terrifying.

Jax and Opie had encouraged her to take a ride at one point, but it didn't end very well, and Chibs spent the best part of two hours trying to stitch his daughter back up whilst Gemma castigated the two imbeciles who thought it was even reminiscent of a good idea.

Weaving through traffic gracefully, freely, was appealing to her, however. But she wouldn't be caught dead--alone--on a fucking bike.

Plus, she quite enjoyed being taken places. Escorted by a member of the club. It was safe.

The wind whirred and whipped around them, and she wished she didn't make the effort with her hair tonight. It was ruined, tousled to within an inch of its life, and she dreaded the thought of having to brush the knots out in Jax's bathroom.

Still, commuting via Harley was a hell of a lot quicker and had a few more benefits than commuting via car.

But the looks that they got were piercing. Horrible. Mainly from Hale stationed beside his squad car, watching as Isla and Tig raced down the freeway.

"He likes you." He spoke over the roaring engine when he hit the first stop light all night. "He hates that you've never given him a chance--"

"He's a cop, and I'm the outlaw's daughter. I've been raised to hate his kind."

Tig nodded his approval, setting off once again when the light switched to green and all opposing traffic stood still.

At one strange point in time, David Hale had his sights set on Isla Telford. He was in love with her. Completely besotted.

And she never gave him a second glance because, for one, she wasn't interested. He hated that she was so close to Jax and Opie, but not him, and he wished that she'd push herself away from the bad guys to grow closer to the heroic law-enforcer.

But he was a control freak above everything else, and Isla was just a free-spirit. She was loyal to her friends and family but she didn't want to get tied down, and she didn't want to become friendly with a fucking cop.

The only cop she liked was crooked. And Unser was in a similar spot to her--a little too affiliated with SAMCRO, but not completely doted on. Though, they were both strangely essential fixtures, and Clay would've been lost without them.

"Juice is here." Tig taunted as he helped her off the bike, holding her hand when she stumbled over herself a little. "Try to keep those panties on."

"Can't make any promises, Tiger." Her growl was seductive, though he knew that she was fucking with him.

She'd given up rebuking his claims, instead feeding into them because, with Trager, she couldn't seem to win. He was sleazy, and she loved that back and forth.

What she loved more, though, was that he was comfortable. He was a strange man, and nobody really understood just where he came from, but Isla liked that she could make jokes of any kind around him. He was easy to get along with. Easy to love.

And, man, did she love Alex Trager.

"If you do fuck him, though, would you make a video?"

Isla stepped into Jax's front room, turning on her heels. "Who said that we haven't already got one?"

She chuckled and wandered into the party, leaving Tig with a few convoluted thoughts and even more raunchy questions.

"Fuck. Gemma taught her well." He grumbled under his breath, reaching for the beer in Half-Sack's hand.

He slumped on the couch, motioning for his usual lay to sit in his lap as he watched Juice fawn over his little blonde friend making conversation with some other random woman already.

"Yeah, totally..." she agreed with whatever the girl was saying, but her eyes were glued on Tara. Just floating around the party.

She felt bad that the doctor was alone. Despite all that she thought of her, being out of ones depth in such an intimidating setting wasn't very nice. And Isla was an empath.

"D'ya think anyone 'round here has any nail glue?"

"Gemma might." She smiled, pointing toward the kitchen.

Grateful that she managed to shake that one off, Isla weaved through the small conclave and sat beside Tara, offering a friendly face during a time of such discomfiture.

Her heart was aching, the sheer nervousness was palpable, and she knew that Tara felt the same way too.

But Isla just sucked it up. Because she wanted to talk to her, and had to be the one to initiate it.

"Thanks for coming." Her smile was wide, genuine.

She offered a beer to the brunette, hoping that she'd take it.

"Thanks for asking me here." Tara accepted it, glad that Isla remembered she wasn't particularly a wine girl like herself.

Christ. This is awkward.

"Trust me, you were the first person I asked to come tonight."

"How so?"

"Well," a little bit more comfortably, she faced her completely, "you've literally nursed Abel back to health. You've been there every step of the way. You've been the best surgeon. And, as much as I hate to say it, you helped Wendy so much, Tara. I'm really thankful for all that you've done for this family."

"It's my job." She tried to brush the comments off, but her heart definitely fluttered at the praise.

Isla never changed. She was still the sweetest soul, she thought.

"I know, but you've had it rough with this lot--with Gemma, I mean."

"She isn't anything I can't handle." Confidently, she asserted.

"I know, and I'm glad that you're able to stand your ground." Reluctant, a hand landed against Tara's palm.

She jolted a little bit, but softened into the embrace.

It was comfy, warm. Prosperous, perhaps, because it meant something. Tara not jerking away and leaving once Isla offered a friendly embrace, was promising.

They spoke about the baby for a little while, and shared a few laughs at Tig's expense. It was strange, really. To be talking to her ex-best friend was strange, but she'd missed it.

Donna joined the mix, too, and it was starting to feel like old times. Isla recognized that they'd never slip back into that routine, the dedication to one another that they'd known when they were kids--but it was nice.

The conversation stuttered and it wasn't able to flow as freely as what she might've liked, but it was a start.

To know that she had something resembling an acquaintanceship with two women she admired, was nice.

And Jax introducing his baby to his brand new home, to his extended family that were already so fucking dedicated to him, was just the most wonderful thing ever.

"What about a beer?" Clay joked, holding the bottle close to Abel. Jax laughed, though he shook his hand away. "What? Grandpa can't give him his first beer?"

"No, he can't."

"I'll take it, though. If you're offerin'." Chibs grabbed the Budweiser and twisted the cap with the leather grip of his glove.

He gestured to Isla, tipping it toward her. "Want some?"

"No, you're alright." She went back to her wine, smiling at that little bundle of happiness in Jax's arms, wondering how the hell he'd gotten to be in this position now.

But it was because of Tara. Her commitment, her talent, and sheer want to help that angel through the roughest patch that a baby could have possibly been thrust into.

How Gemma could still loathe that girl--after everything she did--was beyond her completely.

Tara was the unlikeliest hero in Abel's story.

"Why is it that every time I see you, your highlights get more chunky?" Gemma smiled at the comment, turning to see her favorite girl, flaunting the most beautiful smile.

She handed Isla the bottle of whatever wine Chibs could get this evening, unable to quit beaming at the thought of her grandson finally being at home. Where he belonged.

"I told you I'd do them for you, Gem."

"I know," she nodded, playing with a few strands of hair, "I was gonna ask you, but you've been a little distant this week--didn't wanna add to your workload, baby."

"That's super considerate of you. Are you alright?" Isla teased, holding a hand to Gemma's forehead.

She slapped it away with a laugh. "Fuck you. I'm always considerate."

"Sure you are. That's why Wendy is here, right?"

"No," her head shook, "she's here 'cuz this is her house. If I had it my way, she'd be out on her ass faster than what you could even say 'crank whore.'"

Isla wiped at her lips with the back of her hand, tipping her head toward the blonde in the living room.

"I thought you made sure she was gonna be here tonight?" Confused, she quizzed.

She was under the impression that Wendy was starting to grow on her. After she'd tried to kill her, of course.

"I did," Gem confirmed. "But only because I knew it'd be awkward between her and Tara."

Amazed, or maybe fucking horrified, Isla simply glared at her.

It should've been obvious to her--plain as day--that Gemma Teller doing a good thing was simply a bullshit facade, built in order to take away from the fact she wanted to do an inherently bad thing.

But Isla liked to see the good in people, so it wasn't. And that really was one of her mot fatal flaws.

"She thanked me for letting her stay, too."

"And what'd you say to her?" Almost as if she didn't want to know the answer, she asked.

Black nails danced along the rim of her wine glass as she leaned against the counter, watching everybody enjoy themselves as they bitched and moaned.

"That she's lucky to be alive."

"Jesus, Gem," her head shook disparagingly, disappointed perhaps.

But being surprised that the woman made a threatening comment toward Wendy, was just as stupid as being surprised at Tig for fucking another hooker during his free time.

"You've gotta keep her close, ma. She's the mother of your grandson, the woman your son did love at one point."

Ma. The word rolled off her tongue unintentionally most of the time, but she didn't hate it.

Gemma was the mother figure in her life--hell, she was the mother figure in a few of the Sons' lives--and it didn't feel weird using that around her. It was affectionate. She adored it.

"Jax never loved her," matter of fact, she retorted. "They got drunk together. They smoked dope together. They didn't love one another--"

"They got married." Isla reminded her. "They have a kid together. They have a lot of history."

"Just because they have history, doesn't mean they love one another. You've got history with him."

Her chuckle was throaty, almost a full-on splutter. "We have not got that same history--we're friends, Gem, you know that's different."

She supposed the blonde was right.

There was hell of a contrast between friends for life and friends with benefits--and Gemma knew that. She just didn't like that Jax gravitated toward Wendy when he'd always had Isla right there in front of him.

Though, she was more than aware that the pair didn't look at each other that way--she still lauded the thought of the two together.

"I still hate her."

"I know," Isla laughed at Gemma's irritability, sipping on her wine, enjoying the sight of everybody having a damn good time.

"She's checking into rehab, too."

"Really? Where?"

"Some place in Oakland, I think." Gemma added, smiling at Clay when he wandered over to the pair. "But you didn't hear that from me."

"You think she's gonna stick to it?"

"Couldn't tell 'ya." He answered for his wife, leaning in to press a chaste kiss to Isla's cheek. "She's determined though, I'll give her that."

"Yeah?" His nod was optimistic--strange for Clay Morrow. "Well, I'm glad she's working on herself, anyway. She's got potential."

"You hate her."

"I know." She didn't refute the assertion. "But I'm still happy for her."

At least somebody is.

She wasn't lying. Wendy was a good girl, a woman tortured for no good reason. And she felt for her, she really did.

It'd been a shock, finding out that she was pregnant. But it wasn't like they weren't expecting it--what with the rate she and Jax were going at it.

From the start, Isla and Gemma were worried. She was notorious for her crank habit and the girls thought she was going to kill herself before she had the chance to see her son into the world.

And that almost happened, didn't it?

The doctors at St. Thomas were fucking miracle workers--Isla was on pins and needles waiting for a call to say that Wendy and Abel were okay.

But she tried not to dwell on that, now. They were both as healthy and Abel was as happy as he could've been, so Isla was content. She wasn't pleased, but she was comfortable with the way that things were going.

Tara, however.

"No!" She yelled, backing out of the nursery. "No, fuck you, Jax."

Juice stumbled backward when she nudged him out of the way, pulling her purse from the kitchen counter.

Isla and Gemma couldn't not stare.

"Tara, c'mon!" Jax called after her, but it was too late.

The front door had been slammed shut and the party came to a complete standstill. A thickening tension was shrouding the group, and things were only just starting to simmer.

"What was that all about?" The blonde asked Juice, leaning against the island.

She didn't want to prove Tig to be right but, after a few glasses of wine, Juan Carlos Ortiz was starting to pique her interests.

He swallowed thickly, watching Clay leave the room. "He said something about Wendy--wanting to keep whatever it is that he and Tara have going on the down low so it doesn't set her off, or something."

Makes sense.

"He has a point. She's doing really well lately." He continued. "Jax would hate to stunt her progress by shoving his relationship with Tara in her face."

Isla was rattled.

Jax hadn't talked to her in days, and she wasn't aware that so much had changed. She wasn't aware that he had established a relationship with Tara Knowles.

Again.

You know what they're like--like two fucking magnets or something. They always find a way back to one another.

She was too irritated to reside in that same room as Gemma, now. Knowing the conversation she'd initiate the second that Juice left was too fucking much. So she left first, instead.

The living room was almost empty. Just Clay, Bobby, Tig, and Chibs sat around the couches as Donna, the kids, and Ope were preparing to set off.

Everything was annoying her, now. She hadn't made the effort with Donna all night, but she was pissed that she hadn't started to say goodbye to her yet.

Isla was so fucking irritated that she didn't even want to talk to Tig, or her father. So she didn't.

"Where're you going, petal?" Chibs asked, hindering her plan to keep her mouth shut for the rest of the night. He knew that she'd crack a smile at the nickname.

"I was just wandering. Not really sure what to do with myself."

"Come sit down," he gestured to the space between himself and Tig, and wound an arm around her when she met the leather. "I've missed 'ya."

"Tonight? Or just in general."

"In general. It's been a few days, love."

"I know, I'm sorry." Her head rested against his Sgt. At Arms patch, and she sighed. "Work has been so fucking busy and I feel like I haven't gotten a moment to myself this week."

Isla only worked a part-time gig at some shitty salon just on the outskirts of Charming--edging into Stockton--but she hated her job.

She hated driving into the city every morning and evening, wasting a fuck ton of her paycheck on gas when, really, there was no point.

She hated her cunt boss.

Hated her cunt clients.

She hated that nobody really spoke to her because of who her father was. And when they did speak to her, it was almost like they were scared. Of Isla.

Gemma had always promised her that there was a space at the auto shop for her had she needed it, but she couldn't think of anything worse than having to answer to Gemma and Clay every single day.

Well, more than what she already was, anyway.

"Who'd 'a thought that being a hairdresser was so demanding?"

"Me, apparently." She joked, watching Tig get up and leave the room.

It'd turned somber. A little too bleak for her liking, but she guessed that everyone felt a bit awkward after Tara stamped out and Jax sat on his porch. Alone. With a bottle of whiskey.

She hated the hold that woman had over him sometimes. The way he was so fucking devoted to Tara Knowles that she could literally slap him, scream in his face, and ruin his son's homecoming party--and he would still pine for her.

She'd never understand that.

And she didn't understand how such a lively bunch of individuals had mellowed out over the course of two hours, either.

The party had disappeared. Dissipated into nothing and the atmosphere she once lauded was completely dead in the water.

It was fucking grim, and she couldn't wait to head home.

"Can I come with you tonight?"

"Why'd you even ask? Y'know you're welcome to come home with your old man whenever you want." Chibs told her a little bit stern, though it was essentially full of love.

She just smiled up at him, a bit buzzed. But she was having a good-ish time and who was he to chastise her for drinking a little too much tonight?

"Wanna head off now?"

"Yeah--lemme just say 'bye' to Gemma."

"Alright, I'll be out front. Don't forget your purse." He reminded, knowing she was too ditsy for her own good.

Chibs helped her to her feet, letting go of her hand only to part ways for a few moments.

Her mood was perking up, now. The prospect of being able to spend a few hours with her dad after a long fucking day, was just the best.

And she'd really missed him. Missed the time they once had an abundance of. Missed the evenings that they'd spend talking, drinking, watching movies, doing the generic father daughter activities.

They hadn't had that for a while, and it was truly a blessing that it was within reach tonight.

Well. It was within reach for all of five minutes.

"Oh my God--" Gemma's cell slipped from between black nails and bounced across the table. Saturated hues were locked on Isla, and her head shook.

"What?"

"There's--there's been an accident." She managed to muster out. "Or, maybe a drive-by, I don't know, but Donna--"

"Donna?" Piney's attention was snatched at the mention of his daughter-in-law. He stood up. "What about her?"

Isla knew the answer. She knew what Gemma was going to say because it was just the usual now, wasn't it?

Being affiliated with SAMCRO just did that to somebody. Man, woman, child. They didn't fucking care.

"She's--Piney, she's dead."

[xoxo-bunnydumpling]

Eli and his scene partner met up at the house today to rehearse for their performance tomorrow and I swear that no matter where he goes or what he does he ALWAYS collects the fellow queers.

This time, it's a loud, chaotic lesbian with Robin Williams vibes in a Hawaiian shirt named Liz...who greeted me with a bear hug and said "holy shit, it's the wife!"

I didn't know she was coming, so I'm in some terrible and very short pajama shorts and feeling really awkward so the first thing I say to her is "yes, hello...uhhh, are you hungry?"

😬😬😬

Eli picks me up and whispers into my ear that he's sorry, that he forgot she was coming, and it's just Liz so it's fine to not go overboard with whatever I'm about to make.

Liz asks him if he picked a short wife on purpose so he could pick her up and he doesn't deny it, but offers that most people are short to him...to which she rolls her eyes and tells me he's "a trip".

So...naturally I cook a full lunch. I can hear them from the kitchen...and they're both doing a lot better than I thought they'd do. It sounds so familiar...but I just can't place it yet from here.

I've taken acting classes before and everyone sucked the whole time but we had fun so it was kind of whatever. But they're doing such a good job, I wonder if their instructor knows some secret that I need in on.

Over lunch, Liz tells me she wasn't really expecting a female wife when she got here because Eli tends to use the word partner and with her gaydar activated she expected a twink instead. He very casually mentions that she may get to meet Moses today and he and I go back and forth over whether Moses achieves twinkdom or not, and Liz enters the discussion with a musing of whether "twink" is a pejorative term or merely descriptive. I've missed LGBTQ+ round tables, much harder to have here than where I'm from where I'm pretty sure fully half the population is queer to some degree.

I also learn that Liz will call him Diet Misha to pick on him, and that he has started ignoring her requests for him to say "hello Dean".

"He didn't used to but now that we're friends he feels more free to just roll his eyes. I like that."

"I think he prefers Misha Zero."

He squints at me. "Do I?"

When I'm allowed to come watch, it hits me that they're doing the scene from Angels in America where Prior reveals his KS and calls it the "wine dark kiss of the angel of death". I wait for that line with bated breath and remember the first time I saw it and that line hit me like a ton of bricks. I was much much younger then and the subject matter was all new to me. To say they both nailed it would be an understatement. Such a heavy scene for a fair to middlin' acting class and I'm a little annoyed that my husband is good at everything.

Their choosing of roles was interesting to me. I'd expect Eli to take on Louis...but Liz tells me she insisted he not, that it would be too easy and he wouldn't learn anything from it.

"He's already butch and stoic, what's the fun in that?" When he laughs, she walks it back a little. "Not really stoic, but he is very quiet until you get to know him. He's no Andrew Scott but I'll take him."

His rapport with her is easy...it's always easy for him to lead people into conversation but it's always an infodump by them to which he typically adds nothing unless it's emergent. He would have been a great counselor...but with Liz, it's the give and take that it should be.

He asks her if she thinks their instructor will let them just do all their scenes together going forward.

"We paid for the class, we should insist on it."

I really like her.

[impossiblelibrary]

Today's rant brought to you by: Queer Eye Japan, can we all just try to be as kind as they try to be?

After watching the Queer Eye Japan super short season, I wanted to google to see the overall reaction to the show, make sure that my western eyes were correct in seeing the care that was given to the culture. Were cultural taboos, other than being outwardly gay, crossed? So I find this article in the top results and other than the perspective, why tho? Tokyoesque.com had an article with a higher reading level, with surface level appreciation but at least better written.

I can't get over this hate article though. Unfounded, dumb, wrong and incorrect. Do not go forward unless you like that blistering kind of anger from me.

But the reasons just get weaker as the article extends: "Hurts the country it set out to save?" Looking for white savior much? They did not go to save Japan, they gave some free shit to like 4-5 people, think smaller.

Their culture guide wasn't gay enough.

You want to suggest any lgbt insta models or celebrities, use your platform to raises some up?

"There is a growing sexless culture in Japan for married and unmarried people, and it is perilous watching Queer Eye present this without any context behind what is driving this behavior."

Sexiness is what the fab 5 embrace, unfortunately and it was probably discussed behind the scenes of how much talking about sex was allowed or polite and the conversation of not having sex is closer to the tip of the tongue rather than the feeling of sexiness. The West is not the ones blasting that information. It is across multiple Japanese printed newspapers and online stories by now and the "context" is still being discussed and debated amongst Japanese. So I don't think any outsiders should be weighing in or "explaining" this phenomenon. We can repeat what we have been told but guessing at the reasons is not our place. The reasons illustrated by the author of the article seem lacking, a take but not the only one, but who am I to speak on that being in a sexual relationship with someone who pulls from that culture?

Kiko begins to lecture Yoko-san on how she “threw away her womanhood” (referring to a Japanese idiom, onna wo suteru) by going makeup-free and wearing drab, shapeless clothes.

The mistranslation by the subtitles fixed by this author was necessary information. But Kiko didn't lecture her on it, it was brought up by Yoko before any of them arrived, that was her theme, that was what she had decided to focus on. Meanwhile, if you watched Jonathan, he understood there was no time to spend on makeup and skincare so provided her a one instrument, 3 points of color on the skin to feel prettier. That and the entire episode being the 5 treating her like a woman on a date, not trying to hook her up, which is what they did in American eps.

"In teaching a Japanese woman, who already struggles to find time for herself, how to make an English recipe, Antoni is making great TV and nothing more."

So Antoni shouldn't have taught her apple pie because it's too exotic for a Japanese woman. (Can you smell the sexism?)

He didn't make an apple pie, altho Yoko did mention her mother made that for her when she was a kid. He made an apple tartine after going to a Japanese bakery who makes that all the time. Then highlighted the apples came from Fuji in true Japanese media fashion. Honey, American television doesn't usually highlight where the ingredients come from. A Japanese producer told him to do that. So all worries handled within the same ep. She got Japanese ingredients, had the recipe shown to her and then made it for her friends in her own house. Did the author actually watch this show or nah?

"beaten over the head with his western self-help logic. “You have to live for yourself,” he says."

The style of build up the 5 went for was confrontational but in a "I'm fighting for you" way. It's hard to describe, but the best I can say is, a person has multiple voices in their head, from parents, siblings, society, and maybe themselves. By being loud and obnoxious, American staples right there, they are adding one more voice. You deserve this, you are amazing, you are worth it. I know this is against most Japanese cultural modesty, but maybe it shouldn't be.

Sarcasm lies ahead:

Apparently: mispronunciation is microaggressions, not just someone who had a sucky school system. Yea okay, They're laughing at the language not at how stumbling these monolinguals are with visiting another country. Mmhm. Japanese don't say I love you and don't touch and that should stay that way instead of maybe, once in awhile, feeling like they can hug. Yeah, let's just ignore Yoko's break down that she had never hugged her lifelong friend after hugging strangers multiple times. Maid cafes are never sexualized in Japan ever, just don't go down that one street in Akihabara where the men are led off by the hand sheepishly blushing. Gag me. And Japanese men love to cry in front of their wives and would never break down once the wife leaves. I have never seen a Japanese movie showcase that move. Grr.

"I identify as many cultures."

So you're a Japanese man when it's convenient for you to get an article published? Are you nationally Japanese or just ethnically or culturally?

Homeland is an inherently racist word?

"After the Bush administration created the Department of Homeland Security after the 9/11 terrorist attacks, a Republican consultant and speechwriter Peggy Noonan urged, “the name Homeland Security grates on a lot of people, understandably. Homeland isn’t really an American word, it’s not something we used to say or say now.”

Yes, let's use a Washington Post article rather than a etymology professor. Yes, the google search results increased after 2001 Homeland Security was used but the word has been around since the 1660s and I've read multiple turn of the century lit on white people returning to their homeland, i.e. the town off the coast they were born in.

"But" is not disagreeing. I think the repeated offender for the author is the not acknowledging the makeover-ees feelings. But, that is how LGBT have decided to deal with the inner voices that invade from society. They are just that, not our own, they are the influence of society, and we can choose, we have to choose, to be influenced by someone, anyone else.

Karamo can't speak about being black when an Asian is speaking about being Asian, even though the Asian gay man was feeling alone. It's called relating bitches, and I'm done with people saying that is redirecting the conversation, it's extending the conversation. That's how we talk, the spotlight is shared, especially when someone's about to cry and doesn't want to be seen as crying, time to turn the spotlight.

The gay monk wasn't good enough, you should have invited the gay politician.

Yeah, causes I'm sure a politician has all the time in the world for a quick stint and cry. They picked a Japanese monk who travels to NY because they had a guest who travels to the West too. Did you want him to stop traveling back and forth? Did you want a pure, ethnic and cultural Japanese gay man who has no ties to the west to talk to this Western educated young man? Seriously?

This is just not how it works in Japan.

Being in a multi-cultural marriage between two rebels, discussions on facets of culture are plenty in my household. Culture should be respected enough to be considered but not held on a pedestal like we should never adjust or throw some things out. LGBT being quiet and private for instance. "Being seen" was Jonathan's advice, and a good one especially for a Japanese gay man that was called feminine since he was a kid. Some gay men can hide, but as Jonathan said, he couldn't hide what he was, he couldn't hide this. So fuck it. Don't hide. It's actually more dangerous for a feminine man to come off as anxious rather than gay and proud. It makes you more of a target if they think you won't fight back. Proud means, Imma throw hands too, bitch.

This is also from the civil rights playbook going back to Black America: never hold a protest or a fight without the cameras, without being seen. LGBT have found the more seen they are, in media, in the streets, the better off we are. When LGBT Americans were being "private" about our lifestyles, we died, a la 1980s. They won't care if you start dying off if they never saw you to begin with.

And hence why I think the author's real anger is from these 5 being seen dancing flamboyantly in Shibuya, in Harajuku, afforded the privilege of doing this safely because of their tourist status, cameras and very low violence rate in Tokyo, loud and obnoxiously. Honestly, they wouldn't have been invited or nominated if they didn't want that brash American-ness coming into their home, just for a taste, at least.

Here's my real anger, my own jealousy: Japan's queer community currently does not have marriage or adoption rights. US does, so we have progressed further. But we are also not that many years from being tied to cow fences with barbed wire, beaten with baseball bats and left for dead overnight. If things are so bad over there, maybe take a few pages from the civil right playbook we took so much time to perfect and produced by the Black Americans who fought first. But so far, I only hear loss of jobs and marriages, which we still have here too. Stop trying to divide us, we are one community, LGBT around the world and we are here to try to help. Take it or leave it, it's not like we're going to go organize your own Pride parade for you.

Rant over? I guess. Is this important enough to be put in the google results along with his. Hell no, anyone with half a mind can see he's reaching more than half the time. And any argument about: this wasn't covered! There are a shit ton of conversations that are not covered in the 45 min they have. They are not a civil rights show, it's a makeover show, doing their best in that direction anyway. Know what it is.

Next blog post, what research I would guess was happening behind the scenes for each of the 5? I'm pretty sure I saw Jonathan doing Japanese style makeup there...

[echo-three-one]

Whatever It Takes

Sequel to A Forgotten Memory

Now facing an internal battle between her heart and mind, Samantha faces her fears and searches for the truth. Will she accept the past? Will she listen to her heart? Or will she let her memories get the best of her?

Chapter 10 to another story made by Ray (echo-three-one) Comments and Reviews appreciated! I hope you enjoy! Love you all ❤️

Previous Chapter : Roach - A SurPRICE Visit

What is this o.O

The Heart knows what the Brain Doesn't

Samantha Coleman

141's High Value Individual

Task Force 141 Base - General Shepherd's Office

The base was quiet. Everyone else fled off to their mission and all Samantha could think about is Alex. But why? Maxine told her he wanted to meet him, but Alex told her it's because she dropped her pendant. Whose story is she going to believe in? She could feel her heart beat differently ever since she saw him with General Shepherd. Her whole body except for her brain reacted to his presence. She even felt weak after slapping him, it's like her brain commanded it but her hands wanted to disobey. Who is he?

Maxine passed by with an apple she got from the kitchen counter.

"Sam, you okay?" she asked, biting the fruit and sitting in the chair across from her.

"I've been thinking… about how you knew Alex and how she knows me…" she sighed, it was relieving to let out all her bottled thoughts, especially that now they're both alone.

"Well, we met in a bar. Had a few drinks then showed me a photo of you." she said, holding her hand.

"I honestly believed he did know you and tried to lengthen the conversation, just so I know he's good enough and knows a lot. He actually aced the test but he was very drunk when I told her to meet again. After that He showed up the next day and I had to work. Whatever happened after my shift was- ow." she interrupted herself because of a minor pain from recalling her memories. She still hasn't been able to remember all of them, even after a lot of sleep.

"Yeah. That's about it on your side. Mine's just that… He looked creepy, his eyes felt like he was looking for me in a weird way and so I ran. After that life continued. You went on a leave and I resumed working." She supplied, staring at the grey walls of the mess hall.

"I wish I'd remember where I went on that vacation. It'd be cool." Max commented, crunching on another bite.

"My heart… beats differently when he's near. It's like he's really familiar." She whispered.

"Oh. Someone's been struck by the Cupid. He is attractive though. Without those ink, he'd probably be your type." Max teased, winking at her and nudging her. Samantha was serious, though.

"Look. I admit my heart feels something for him. It's a mix of guilt and longing. But why would I long for someone I just met?" She sighed and dropped her head on the table, groaning as her mind and her heart battled against the inconsistencies.

"Look. It's not too crowded here. Maybe we could do some research by their library!" Max suggested, creating finger guns and humming the Mission Impossible theme song as she stood up and went to the library. Samantha chuckled.

"So we're spies now?!" She placed a hand on her forehead as she followed her wacky best friend.

Maxine typed down Alex on the search bar, his public profile appeared and they began reading his file. It was all basic ideas, Nationality, Height, his name was redacted and they couldn't bypass it so they just ignored it and headed to the next term.

"CIA Agent Alex helped locate and detain CIA Mole." Samantha read with her mouth. Maxine quickly clicked the article and photos of her appeared on almost every page.

Unlike Maxine, these notes didn't hurt her mind except it hurt her heart that she treated him that way, after all this time. He was there to save her. He located you through Maxine to save you from the same captors that played with your brain months ago.

"Ooooh. It says here you two were safely housed in a remote safehouse for almost a month. Really Sam? Maybe something happened within that time? Can you please remember how he looked underneath those clothes. For me?" she giggled. Samantha knew she was joking but it was an honest possibility.

Could it be that she fell for the guy that saved her and sat with her for almost a month? Or the two of them fell in love? Her heart was racing as the possibilities overloaded her brain, her cheeks started to blush as her thoughts consumed her. This wasn't her mind talking to her, it was her heart. It's reminding her of Alex.

"Oh. Shit." Maxine muttered and Sam snapped back to reality, putting her hand on Max's shoulders and looked into the screen once again.

Due to a special favor promised by Samantha's father, he has authorized to apply an MK Ultra procedure to her, whose main intention is to Alter her memories of the IP Address along with the events that happened prior to kidnapping.

"You agreed to forget him?" Max looked at her, a frown formed as she started to console her.

"I guess so… Maybe something happened between us." She sobbed. She didn't want to cry, but the realization set in on her. They met, they bonded and she forced herself to forget him. No wonder Alex felt sad after being slapped.

"I want to ask him about us." Sam said with determination. Maxine liked the confidence but was also concerned about her feelings.

"What if you wanted to forget him, that's why you did it? Would you be ready to feel the sadness all over again?" Maxine asked. Samantha paused for a while. She made sense but her gut is telling her to push through her initial plan.

"I'm sorry Max, but I made my choice. I have to know everything about us, Whatever it Takes." she said.

"I'm here to support you. After all, you're the only memory I have left. They took everything. I don't know why but my memory began when I moved in. That's where my story started. Maybe there's a reason for it so, here I am for you. You're my family." she said, hugging her tight.

"Well, you could add a few more people in your family." she smiled.

"Yeah. It's full of tough looking brothers ready to protect us. And one soft Gary." she noted.

"He is a sweetheart, huh?" Samantha asked, getting a hint of something else from her.

"Well, he talks a lot and he gets me sometimes. It's a shame he's always out there saving the world." Max chuckled. Samantha froze.

"I know you want this to work..."

"This is our proposed digital art for our ad…"

"... and I know in my heart that I do too…"

"The colors need to be more vibrant!"

"...but I can't live loving you with worry in my heart..."

"I'm staying a little bit longer, See you tomorrow!"

"... and I don't want to be the reason that you'll stop saving the world. I know you want that. It's your job to. It's what you built your whole life to become..."

Her head started projecting two realities, it confused her. Which was right and which was wrong? She knew the work one was right, but the memories she just made right now while crying in front of Alex made more sense. Which was real? Which was fake?

"Sam! You okay?" Maxine snapped her fingers and Samantha blinked rapidly.

"I'm going crazy Max." she panted.

"What's wrong?" she consoled.

"My memories. They're all wrong. Why did I agree to this?" Samantha continued breathing heavily.

"Well, for starters. It's to forget that IP Address you memorized as a kid."

"But why did they change the recent ones too? Did I decide that my time spent with Alex is worth forgetting? Did he break my heart or did I break his?" She sighed. She knew for herself that she was unable to love again because of her loss, but what if Alex made it right for her? Alex did something that helped her move on? That's why her heart felt yearning for him?

"Sam. I'm no love doctor but if this really bothers you, you should talk to him. I have no idea when they'll get back but I'm looking forward to your resolution." She patted her shoulders and gave her a soft hug. Samantha felt like crying, but why?

~

After a while, Samantha actually had the courage to ask about Alex's whereabouts. Word has it that he's being redeployed to Germany to investigate another alleged Augustus base and that they had no idea when he'll be back.

This worries Samantha because they already heard about a transfer of authority, which in simple words meant : You're leaving the base. And that meant she won't see Alex anymore.

Maxine and Samantha sat on their beds at the infirmary to recover once again, both of them fell quiet as the news they got started to bother them. They already got attached to the people in the base and were sure that they're going to miss them. All they could do is hope that the team gets home before they leave the base.

“You think Alex will be okay?” Samantha shifted her sleeping position to Maxine, who was still awake humming to soothing melodies. Maxine shifted to face her too and smiled.

“You’re worried.” She teased, making her smile and giggle.

“Well, my heart told me I have to worry…”

“That’s normal. And don’t you worry ‘bout a thing… He’s a tough guy, remember? He’s trained to survive such harsh conditions. That’s what his file said, right?” She reminded Samantha, giving her an assuring smile. Samantha shrugged off her worry and closed her eyes. She started to imagine what it felt like being with him, based on information from his file. She can’t help but smile at her crazy idea. She felt like a teenager all over again, obsessing herself on fictional characters she watched on TV, since she could only base his personality on words alone. But she did remember how his cheeks felt, from the slap, and placed her palm on her cheek as well. It felt like he was with her and her heart felt excited as she awaited for his return.

Next Chapter : The Berlin Tower

NOTIFICATION SQUAD MY BELOVED ❤️

@smokeywhalee @enderio @samatedeansbroccoli @whimsywispsblog @beemybee @ricinbach

[bleepblopbloop56]

100 things to do under the stars

(Analogical, no warnings)

1: stargaze

  Virgil dragged Logan out from the warmth of the truck and into crisp fall air. They were in the middle of nowhere, it was nearly midnight, and the clouds were practically nonexistent. There wasn't a light for miles, aside from the still dimming headlights of Virgil's pickup truck. They had to be in someone's backyard or private property, but with a field so vast and expansive who would know to say anything. 

“Virgil-” Logan started before swiftly getting shushed by Virgil. He jerked open the door to the backseat, pulling out piles of blankets and pillows. 

  “Lo, i'm gonna need you to ignore how sketchy this looks and help me pad the bed of the truck, there's a meteor shower tonight and i want you to see it.” Virgil tossed him some handfuls of quilts and stuffed animals. It seemed as if he found every even remotely soft thing in his apartment and shoved it in the car. They passed the truck bed and Virgil hoisted him into the makeshift bed, before bracing the side of the truck and hoping for himself. 

 They stayed silent as they got comfortable, that was Logan's favorite part about their friendship, they could just exist around each other without any pressure to perform social cues like small talk.. They could just be. Logan reached down and intertwined their hands, making virgil's heart skip a beat. 

“Thank you,” he mumbled, shifting closer to his friend “I needed this” Virgil swallowed roughly, laying his head closer to Logan’s as they watched the stars 

7: contemplate existence + 11: drink coffee

 “Do you think there's something else out there?” Virgil asked after a long stretch of comfortable silence. This time, they sat on the roof of the truck, coffee in hand and feet dangling off the edge of the truck. 

  “Be more specific.” Logan took a sip of his coffee, bringing it to his mouth with both hands. It provided a nice warmth against the chill of the night, something his black wool coat was vaguely failing to provide.

   “Life.. do you think we're alone here?” Logan wanted to say no with a definite certainty that Virgil was looking for, but that would be irresponsible to answer with a certainty he didn't have. 

   “Arthur Clarke once said ‘Two possibilities exist: either we are alone in the Universe or we are not. Both are equally terrifying.’” he settled on instead. Virgil grimaced and pulled his legs up to sit cross-legged and turned his body to face Logan. He tried to make eye contact with him, but Logan continued to look up into the abyss.

  “That's not what I asked,” he said “I wanna know what you think.” Logan took another slow sip of his coffee to stall. Eventually, he brought it away from his mouth and turned to face Virgil

   “I dont know..” he admitted “it seems.. impossible that there's an infinite universe beyond our capability of comprehension that is simply empty. I don't believe there will ever be certainty on our end, so,” he put the coffee down and laid down, putting his eyes back on the stars “i'd rather not worry about it.”

32: question your own mortality *

   “What do you suppose the point of it all is Virgil?”  he had become rather acquainted with the empty field he and Virgil spent nearly every clear night in. They hadn't even got out of the car this time before Logan started their nightly talks.

   “I thought it scared you to talk about things like that.” Virgil jokes to mask that he didn't have an answer. He jerked open the door but didn't get out. 

    “Do… Do you ever question why we're here?” Logan knew the answer to that, and Virgil constantly thought about his life and his purposeless existence. Virgil took pity on him when he noticed his big brown eyes sparkling in the light the car turned on. So mundane, and yet Virgil had seemed to romanticize the smallest things around Logan.

    “Get out, I wanna show you something,” Logan followed wordlessly. “I think..” Virgil continued, once they were out of the truck and on top of it “that it's different for everyone. For me, I just want to spend my short existence here experiencing life for what it is. Good and the bad, mostly good.” Virgil smiled softly as he laid down on the roof “ look at that… all the stars feel so close i could touch and yet impossibly far away. I can't see a horizon from here, it feels like I'm in the middle of all of them, here with you.”

    Logan laid on his side beside him, still not fully getting it. “You think you were put into existence to look at stars?”

    Virgil hoisted himself up on his elbows, craning his head back to continue looking at the abyss. “I think that's what i'm choosing to do with my existence, what are you choosing to do with yours?” Logan stayed quiet for a long time, just looking at Virgil and thinking before he jutted his head forward and kissed him. Virgil pulled back, heart beating  a million miles a minute. 

“Logan?” he whispered.

“If we get to choose what we do with our lives then i wanna spend mine like this, with you, and i've wasted too much time thinking.” he almost had tears in his eyes as he leaned forward again, letting Virgil close the gap this time. 

* (+ 53: have your first kiss) 

65: and your second

72: and third

83: and many many more

99: propose

    They continued going to their favorite spot for years, when they got older they bought the plot of land that they called theres and built a tiny cabin on the edge of the field. And one night, after 5 years of dating, virgil pulled logan into the middle of the field, walking this time. Fireflies and the moon are their only real source of light so far out in the field. 

Logan giggled as he attempted to keep balance while Virgil swung him around 

“What's got you in such a good mood?” Logan laughed, getting pulled into a nervous kiss by his boyfriend 

    “Virgil!” he smiled a little wider, “what's the occasion?”

   “Look up, and name all the constellations you can see,” Virgil asked quietly, hands fisted in his jacket pockets. Logan looked suspicious before doing as he was told, listing all he could remember the name of. Just as he was getting to the end of his list, Virgil cut him off. 

“Hey Logan?” When he looked back, Virgil was kneeling on the ground with a small navy blue box in his hands. “Can I ask you something?” 

Logan did not consider himself overly emotional, he nearly prided himself on it, and yet he couldn't seem to stop the hitch in his breath and rush of tears to his eyes. He wordlessly nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

    Virgil opened the box and revealed a ring with a simple diamond in the middle of a black band with stars engraved into the side. He stayed silent as the tears started cascading down his face. “Do you remember when you said you wanted to spend your life with me under the stars?” Logan  had to pull his hands to his mouth to contain the sob of happiness he couldn't. Virgil was also crying, a wide nervous grin on his face “will you make that official with me?” 

    “Yes!” Logan choked out, nodding profusely and collapsing into Virgil's arms when he stood up to hug him. He pulled back and kissed him, he kissed him for the millionth time with all the passion and love of the first. He pressed his forehead into Virgils, having to bend a little to accommodate for the height difference. 

“I love you” he mumbled, tears starting to end their freefall, even if only for a minute. “So so much”

100: get married.

    Roman bustled around their small cabin with the kind of nervousness more reserved for the grooms than the best man. He had been preparing this day- well, night- for months and had been more of a bridezilla than either of the actual men getting married. Guests were starting to arrive just after the sun went down and the stars were starting to peek through the darkness. Fairy lights shone just enough to allow the guests to find their seats without hassle, but not too much as to outshine the stars. 

    “Are you sure everythings ready?” Roman asked Logan once again, meeting a hard eye roll with an exacerbated grin. 

    “Yes Roman, I'm positive.” He couldn't help the feeling of joy riding in his throat when he checked his watch. He was getting married… to the most beautiful man on earth, under the stars, in his own backyard with all his friends… holy shit

    “Logan!” Patton called from the doorway, excited to be helping even if he'd been there since noon “its time! Come on “ 

    Virgil was…. He couldn't think of the right word.. Gorgeous, ethereal, amazing, perfect, genius, beautiful, unreal, indescribable… Logan felt in his heart as he was walked down the aisle by the designated group dad friend. He wore a velvet deep purple suit with black trims and converse sneakers, hair freshly dyed from a week before, and on top of his head sat a small crown with diamond stars. As much as he despised wedding traditions, this was his “something borrowed” generously lended by Roman to tie in the night theme. The wedding was small, neither of their families even invited to attend, and their friend group tiny but close knit. Patton bounced down the aisle with Virgil's arm intertwined in his, Logan didn't think the concept of “handing off the “bride ``'' was appropriate here, but neither of them could deny Patton's puppy dog eyes. 

The rest of the night went off without a hitch, dancing, kissing, crying, a small potluck with a modest red velvet wedding cake, and in the center of it all was stars. The decorations, the rings, the vows and the night sky, all of it was perfect. When all the guests left, and Virgil and Logan were finally alone, Logan pulled out a wedding present he had gotten for virgil. 

“What's this?” he asked, still riding the high of “Holy shit i'm really married” 

“Open it.” virgil undid the navy wrapping paper, and opened the box. Inside, there was a book titled “100 things to do under the stars, by Logan Cade” 

Virgils heart jumped when he realised logan had used his new last name.  

[loicnottet-archive-blog]

an update

i know ive been on and off this year and lately, haven’t been active at all. ive been on the discord, probably less than before but definitely more on there cause it’s just an easy place to talk to people?? but basically my life has become very very busy, both with school/uni prep and just my social life and other things like my mental health which hoo boy has been a rollercoaster this year atm im doing completely fine and don’t really want to die cause im on summer, but i have a lot of things to sort out and it’ll only continue when i go back and i just really don’t have the time to manage an esc blog during off season. plus tbh i feel like i don’t enjoy tumblr as much as i did before and that ive been on here cause i felt like i had to??? tldr until i sort out my shit and find motivation/time to update here or until esc 2018 season begins (but honestly after that..,,idk man), im gonna have to go on hiatus cause even without the motivation i still find going on my dash a distraction (ill be back for tmblrvision tho). if we’re mutuals that have talked you can ask for my discord and if you’re in the server im happy to chat there. thanks to all 5k+ of you for sticking around whether you came during esc 2017 or have been here since hetalia, or you’re a porn bot. ive had a lot of good times on this blog lmao ❤️❤️

[cocastyle]

Change - Ch. 2 | F I V E

Pairing - Bill Denbrough x reader

Word Count - 6,390

A/N - sorry for the wait but I’m going to be starting college soon so I’ve been busy with family, friends, and buying stuff for my dorm. I’m hoping to start writing updates again so here’s the first one many! let me know what you think especially with Greyson in the mix because I just love him so much! also, let me know if you like me including the flashbacks because I kind of loved it and was thinking about including more than what is just in the movie!

if you would like to be added to the tag list for this series let me know!

C H A N G E

Change Series Masterlist

* - * - * - * - * - * - * - *

F I V E - Remember

* - * - * - * - * - * - * - *

Y/N stared up at the Derry Townhouse in front of her, a sick feeling in her stomach as she realized that she had to go in there and convince her friends to stay. If there was any shot of them defeating It, it had to be with all of them there. That's how they defeated It last time and that was the only way they would be able to defeat It this time.

She knew her friends would think she was crazy. She was well aware of the fact. Y/N just wasn't sure what she was going to say or if she was even ready to face them after what they had all just found out. She wasn't ready for the looks of pity or the reminders of Stan especially since her heart was already so fragile that one more blow might actually kill her.

The woman found herself spiraling down a whirlpool of her own thoughts and she would've only gotten worse if it weren't for Greyson gently grabbing ahold of her hand and giving it a squeeze. Y/N glanced at the boy, his red eyes matching hers despite the small reassuring smile on his face.

Y/N really didn't deserve Greyson as a son. It was almost too good to be true.

"Together," Greyson whispered, reminding her once again that she wasn't alone no matter how much she felt like she was without Stan. Y/N gave a short nod and squeezed Greyson's hand once before the two began walking up the steps of the townhouse.

They were inside within seconds and were instantly met with Richie yelling at Ben and Beverly with his bag hanging from his shoulder, "Whatever you guys are talking about, let's make it happen fast, alright? We got to go." He turned towards the stairs and yelled up, "Edwardo, andele! Let's go!"

Richie then seemed to notice the presence of Y/N and Greyson and let out a small sigh of relief. "I don't know where the fuck you've been, but go grab your shit. We're getting out of here pronto," Richie announced as he walked over to behind the girl and began lightly shoving her towards the steps. "Come on, Uris. Move it."

"Rich, I can't," Y/N managed to say, her words causing the man to freeze before letting out a loud laugh.

"Real funny, Y/N. Now come on. I'm not leaving here until I know you're safe and on your way home," Richie insisted as he tried to move her again.

"Richie," Y/N sighed, but the man was barely listening to her as he caught wind of Beverly and Ben's conversation in which Y/N and Greyson couldn't help but listen to either.

"There's something you're not telling us. You knew how Stanley died. You knew," Ben said, his words making the three wide eyed while Beverly just remained silent.

"Wait, what?" Richie questioned as he let go of Y/N and walked into the small parlor the pair was in. Y/N quickly followed after, coming to a stop beside Richie while Greyson came up behind them.

"You. . .knew?" Y/N whispered, a flicker of hurt flashing through her eyes while Beverly lowered her gaze to the floor.

"I can't do this," Beverly muttered before brushing past the four and attempting to walk away into a different room.

"She knew how Stanley was going to die? Is that what she just said?" Richie asked, but Ben and Y/N were already following after the red head. Richie glanced to Greyson who merely shrugged. The man noticed his red eyes and sighed before placing a hand on the kid's shoulder in comfort as they walked after the three.

"You can't just walk away from this," Ben insisted while Beverly rapidly rang the bell at the front desk. "How did you know where he killed himself? Bev."

The red head ignored them and moved around the counter. "Talk to me. Just talk to me like we used to!" Ben exclaimed, but when his attempts still didn't work, Y/N stepped in and was quick to stand in front of the girl to stop her from moving.

Beverly was quiet as she stared at Y/N, the later staring at the red head in a mixture of pain and sadness as she reached out to grab onto Beverly's hand. "Bev, please," Y/N whispered, her eyes flickering over the girl's face as she desperately squeezed her hand.

If Beverly had known that Stan was going to die, Y/N needed to know how and why. It just didn't make sense. None of this did. And Y/N really just wanted the whole picture. She deserved that much.

Beverly let out a shaky breath, tears beginning to fill her eyes as she whispered, "Because I saw it. I've seen all of us die, even—" She trailed off as her eyes flickered over to Greyson.  Y/N's breath caught in her throat and she glanced back at her son who stared back wide eyed while Richie tightened his grip on the boy's shoulder.

A heavy silence fell among the group as Beverly's words began to sink in. No one even bothered glancing at Eddie who was noisily making his way down the stairs with his two bags that kept banging against the wooden railing and wall.

"Okay. I just got to grab my toiletry bag and then we can go," Eddie announced as he reached the bottom of the stairs. He set his bags down and looked up at the group, pausing almost instantly at the looks on their faces while Y/N finally glanced over at him. The look she gave him made his blood run cold.

"What'd I miss?"

- - -

"Okay, so what do you mean that you've seen us all die?" Eddie questioned, not being able to fathom what Beverly meant. Y/N just put her head in her hands, the regret of deciding to stay coursing through her body while Greyson just sat silent by her side at the mini bar in the room they were in.

"Yeah, cause I got to be honest. That's a fucked up thing to just drop on somebody," Richie muttered.

"Every night since Derry I've been. . .having these nightmares," Beverly explained. "People in pain. People dying. People—" She fell short as a look of horror and pain flashed across her face.

"So you have nightmares?" Eddie questioned as he stopped next to Y/N's chair and leaned against the back. "I have nightmares. People, they have nightmares. But that doesn't mean that your visions are true."

He nudged Y/N and the woman glanced back at him to find Eddie giving her a look as if to ask her to back him up, but for once she couldn't. Y/N just looked away and Eddie swallowed thickly, dread washing over him as he looked to Beverly.

"I've watched every single one of us this week," Beverly whispered, her words making Y/N lean further into her hands as she shook her head.

"You've seen every single one of us what?" a new voice questioned. Y/N sat up almost instantly, her head turning around so quickly she could've gotten whiplash. Her eyes locked on Bill who was already staring back at her from where he stood beside Mike, a small look of surprise and relief on his face at seeing her sitting there.

Y/N didn't know why she had the sudden urge to cross the room and fall into the man's arms, but she did and somehow she was able to keep herself in her seat. Bill's eyes flashed with an unreadable expression as he stared at her, but then he seemed to remember what he had been saying and blinked before looking back down at Beverly.

"To the place where Stanley wound up. That's how we end," Beverly said, her eyes flickering over to Y/N who immediately avoided eye contact and stared down at her hands. A hand was placed on top of her own and Y/N glanced to her side where Greyson was giving her a soft reassuring smile as he squeezed her hand. Y/N squeezed his hand back, her heart warming at just how amazing her son was.

"Okay, how come the rest of us aren't seeing that shit? What—what makes her so different?" Richie asked.

"The dead lights," Y/N muttered, her whole body feeling as if it had suddenly been dunked under cold water. She distantly saw Beverly floating in the air, her eyes glazed over as she floated above them trapped in some sort of prison that Pennywise was able to conjure.

Everyone's eyes flickered over to her and Y/N sighed before taking her free hand and running it through her hair while the other one held on tightly to her son. "It's the only thing that makes sense. No one else's got trapped in the dead lights, only Bev," she explained.

"She was the only one of us that got caught in the dead lights that day," Bill muttered as the memory came back to him and the others.

The man shook his head and crossed the room to sit in the seat beside Y/N, plopping down in disbelief while Greyson watched his mother gently reach out and place a hand on Bill's shoulder. Bill's hand flew up instantly, settling on top of her own and holding onto it tightly before the two exchanged a small look.

"We were all touched by it. Changed. Deep down like an infection or a virus. A virus! You understand! Slowly—" Mike tried to say as he reached out for Eddie, but the man quickly slid past him and began pacing around the room. "That virus, it's been growing for twenty seven years. This whole time metastasizing. It just got to Stan first because—"

"He's the weakest," Richie said and before anyone could even blink, Y/N had slammed her hand on the counter in order to push her up off her seat. She was in front of Richie in a matter of seconds, her finger pointed at his chest while a look of pure fury dawned her face.

Tears pooled in her eyes as she darkly said, "Stanley was not weak. He. . .he was brave and kind and. . .and—" Y/N had to pause in order to stop the sob that had begun to cross her lips. "And a better man than you will ever be!"

Richie's face softened as he looked down at his friend and for a moment it was like he saw the same thirteen year old that had been his best friend all of those years ago, the same girl who rarely left her cousin's side and loved him with all of her heart. Fuck, he was an asshole, wasn't he?

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. I didn't mean to hurt you," Richie whispered as he carefully reached out and wrapped his arms around the girl, pulling her closer to his body for a hug. She fell against him with no fighting, her body limp against his own while her hands balled into fists on his jacket.

A soft sob escaped her lips and she weakly shook the man as she said again, "Stanley's not weak. He's not. . .he's not weak."

Richie just held her tighter, his eyes flickering up to the others who were all glaring at him. He gave them all an apologetic smile and most of them shook their heads and looked away, but Bill and Greyson continued to glare at Richie from where they sat next to each other at the counter.

"What Beverly sees, it will come to pass," Mike said after a moment of silence where Y/N finally managed to calm herself down enough to look back at the others while Richie continued to hold her comfortingly which no one bothered pointing out. He had always had a soft spot for the girl since they were younger and now was no exception, especially considering the fact that he had been the one to make her upset. "It's what'll happen to all of us eventually unless we stop it."

"How the hell are we supposed to do that?" Eddie questioned, glancing over at Y/N to see if she was alright and smiling softly as he watched her pull away from Richie and return the soft smile that Richie was giving her as he brushed her hair out of her face and whispered another apology.

"The ritual of Chüd," Mike told them.

Y/N scrunched up her nose, wiping at her eyes to get rid of the last of her tears as she pushed her emotions aside and tried to be the brave girl she had been twenty seven years ago when she first fought the clown. "The ritual of what now?" she questioned, her and Richie sharing a look of disgust and confusion.

"Chüd," Mike said again. "The Shokapiwah, the first ones who fought it, they have a saying. All living things must abide by the laws of the shape they inhabit."

"Tribal ritual? Are you fucking kidding me, man?" Richie questioned while Y/N just shook her head and walked over to the line of alcohol bottles on the wall. She was quick to grab a bottle and pour herself a shot before downing it in a matter of seconds. She could feel eyes on her and glanced over at her son who had an eyebrow raised. Sighing, Y/N poured herself one last shot and set the bottle down before walking over to the counter and leaning opposite of Greyson.

"There's gotta be another way," Y/N insisted, downing her last shot and setting the glass down while Bill sneaked a worried look in her direction.

"Y/N's right. This thing comes back what? Every twenty seven years? Let's kick the can down the road and do it then," Richie suggested.

"We'll be seventy years old, asshole," Eddie pointed out.

Y/N winced. "Yeah, I'd like to think I'll be up and kicking at seventy, but I'll have one foot in the grave before I can even think about fighting some fucking clown at that age," she muttered.

"It doesn't work that way," Beverly assured her. "None of us make it another twenty years, not even Greyson, and the way it happens—"

Beverly trailed off again and Y/N glanced at Greyson before clenching her jaw. "You trailing off every time you're about to say something horrible does not make this any less terrifying," Y/N said, her eyes locking on Bill who had his concerned gaze on Greyson as if he couldn't imagine the kid dying a horrible death this early in his life because of Pennywise.

"So if we don't beat It this cycle then we die," Ben concluded.

"Horrible," Eddie added.

"Yeah, I don't need the horrible part," Richie assured the man.

"I didn't say it, she said it. Not me," Eddie muttered.

"Wow, such great options we have. Either give up and die, lose and die, or somehow pull a win out of asses and actually get to live the rest of our lives. I'm loving this whole reunion thing so far," Y/N grumbled, earning a small glare from Greyson as the boy silently told her to play nice.

"Alright guys, look," Bill said as he pushed himself up off his seat, patting Greyson's shoulder once before glancing around at his friends. "I've seen w-w-what he's talking about and it's. . .it's all true." Bill's eyes stopped on Y/N and she lightly shook her head at him, but he only gave her a small look as he whispered, "It's the only way."

Y/N bit her lip at that, staring silently at Bill as she tried to decide if she actually had to do this. But then she was reminded of Stanley and how she wanted to make him proud. She was reminded of Greyson who had a future she needed to protect. She was reminded of the Losers', her friends who she made a pact with long ago at the age of thirteen to return and defeat this clown once and for all.

And then there was Bill. Bill Denbrough, the boy who she hadn't remembered until Mike spoke to her over the phone but the boy who she knew had meant so much to her back in the day. This was the boy who had willingly offered to sacrifice himself to Pennywise in order for them to escape and the same boy who had comforted her after her parents' divorce.

There is no way I'm leaving you behind. And there is absolutely no fucking way I'm going to be able to live a happy life without you in it.

You make me happy, Bill Denbrough.

"Fuck," Y/N whispered as she ran a hand through her hair in frustration. She let out a sigh of exasperation and looked at Bill a moment longer, the man giving her a shy smile for he knew she was breaking. She was quick to look away and instead turned her attention to Mike. "If you want this ritual to work—" she trailed off, ignoring the small sighs coming from Eddie and Richie as they both hung their head because they knew if Y/N stayed that meant they would be staying as well.

"We have to remember," Mike told her, his words making the group hesitate while Greyson began to smile excitedly.

"Remember what?"

- - -

"No fucking way," Y/N breathed out as her eyes flickered around the scenery that surrounded her. "The Barrens." Subconsciously, Y/N glanced over to her side, a small smile on her face as she expected a certain curly haired boy to be standing with her.

She was met with nothing but empty space.

Her smile instantly vanished as she was once again reminded that her cousin was gone, but she didn't have long to think about it before a hand gently grabbed ahold of her shoulder and gave it a soft squeeze. Y/N turned, relaxing a bit at the sight of Bill standing there but also feeling her stomach erupt with butterflies almost instantly.

She momentarily saw Greyson glance back at her and Bill from where he stood beside Richie and Eddie who were also looking back. The three all gave her different looks, Greyson smiling with a thumbs up while Richie smirked and Eddie gave her a knowing look. Y/N quickly ignored them and instead looked back at Bill who was watching her expectantly.

Realizing she had missed his question, Bill chuckled before saying, "I asked how you are doing."

"Oh, uh. . .fine. Fine. Fine," she said, wincing slightly at her own words while Bill raised an eyebrow at her. Y/N let out a soft sigh, "We can talk about this later, okay? Right now is really not the time."

"Right, of course," Bill nodded, letting his hand fall back down to his side. "I just. . .I'm here, okay? You're not alone in this."

Y/N hesitated at that, her eyes flickering up to lock with Bill's before she smiled her first genuine smile since the news of Stan's death. Bill almost swooned at the sight and he swore his heart leapt out of his chest for a moment when Y/N brushed her hand against his before grabbing onto it and intertwining their fingers together.

"I know," she whispered, chuckling softly at the sight of Bill's red cheeks while he gripped onto her hand just as tight.

"This is where we came," Ben spoke up, his voice snapping the two out of their trance. They glanced over at Ben before looking around at the part of the forest they were in which looked really familiar. "After the rock fight."

"Ah, the rock fight," Y/N sighed. "Henry Bowers didn't know what hit him. You remember us telling him off, Rich?"

"How could I forget? That was the day I learned you had such a potty mouth, sweetheart," Richie teased, glancing back at the girl and tossing a wink in her direction.

"You're telling me Mom didn't come out of the womb telling everyone off?" Greyson asked, quickly holding his hands up in surrender when Y/N playfully glared in his direction.

Richie suddenly let out a small gasp, his eyes widening as he said, "The Clubhouse."

"Holy shit," Y/N laughed, squeezing Bill's hand as she glanced at the man. "We use to sneak out here all the time." Richie immediately wiggled his eyebrows at the two and Y/N frowned before letting go of Bill's hand in order to walk over to her friend and whack the back of his head. "Not in that way, dumbass. I started coming out here by myself when everything going on with my parents just became too much and Bill often joined me."

"Did you and Bill have a thing?" Greyson suddenly questioned, trying to hide his smug grin behind a curious expression that Y/N saw right through.

However, she wasn't able to handle the situation very well because the suddenness of the question made her face instantly turn bright red and Bill wasn't much better.

"Oh, they totally had the hots for each other," Richie assured the kid. "In fact, they even—"

"Okay! That's enough!" Y/N exclaimed. "We're getting off subject. We were talking about the Clubhouse, remember? Ben, you built that for us if I am remembering correctly, didn't you?"

"Yeah, the hatch has got to be around here someplace," Eddie agreed, sending a small look in Y/N's direction before grabbing ahold of Greyson's shoulder and beginning to push him forwards. "Come on, Grey. You're gonna want to see this."

The two walked off in search of the hatch along with the others leaving Bill and Y/N to awkwardly stand there before the woman abruptly turned around. "I'm sorry about Greyson. He doesn't exactly know when it's appropriate to ask personal questions like that," Y/N said.

Bill just smiled and stuffed his hands in his pockets before saying, "No, it's fine. He's a curious boy is all. Just like his mother."

"At least he's not walking into sewers looking for missing children," Y/N joked, her words making both of them halt. The woman blinked and furrowed her eyebrows. "I'm sorry. That kind of just slipped out. I. . .I don't even—"

"Remember that much?" Bill finished, an understanding look crossing his face. "Me too. Although, I do remember some things." His eyes flickered over her face for a moment as if he were trying to find some hidden answer. "What. . .what do you r-r-remember?"

"Just some of the basics like spending the summer with Stanley because of my parents. Meeting everyone and that fucking house It resides in. And I remember some of the fighting, but not that much other than that," Y/N explained.

"Any—anything else?" Bill asked, his eyes still scanning her face and making Y/N's cheeks heat up a bit.

Was there something she was forgetting? She only remembered what she had told Bill and then the fact that she had a huge crush on him back then and that it seemed like he had liked her too.

"No," Y/N hesitantly said, a sinking feeling growing in her stomach once she saw the smile wipe off Bill's face. "Is there something you remember that I don't?"

Bill lowered his gaze to the floor and quickly shook his head. "No, no. Nothing important anyways. Don't worry about it," he assured her, although the tone of his voice told Y/N a different story.

"Bill—" Y/N began, but she was cut off by Ben's voice suddenly calling out to them. Bill was quick to brush past her as he walked over to the others, an action that made Y/N frown and stare after him.

So she was definitely not remembering something, but what?

"You know, I actually think the door was more like around—" Ben started to say, but he fell short when the ground beneath him suddenly gave way and he fell tumbling into what was below.

Y/N's hand flew over her mouth in an attempt to stop her laughter and the others had to stifle their laughter as well while Greyson walked over to the edge of the hole and looked down with a cheeky grin. "You okay there, buddy?" Greyson asked, earning a small groan in response.

"Found it," Ben's muffled voice could be heard calling out. "I'm okay! Come down!"

Everyone hesitantly stared at the hole while Greyson glanced at his mother as if to ask her what their next move was. For a moment, Y/N was met with a memory that she hadn't thought of in quite some time. A small smile appeared on her face as she walked over to the hole, glancing back at the others and giving them a mock salute that made some of them blink in surprise at the familiarity of the scene. In fact, it was like they could see a thirteen year old version of Y/N doing the exact same thing.

Y/N stared down at the hole before letting out a shaky breath. "Welcome back to the Clubhouse, Y/N," she whispered. And with that, she began to make her descent back into the clubhouse of her past.

- - -

1989

"What do you think it is?" Y/N questioned as she rested her head against her hand and looked up at the sky. "A new jump off spot at the Quarry? Some secret passage that will take us to Narnia?"

"Y/N, I don't think it's any of those things," Stan chuckled, glancing over at his cousin as a wide smile appeared on his face.

"Why not? Ben said he had something to show us. It could literally be anything in the world!" Y/N exclaimed happily, throwing her hands up in the air for exaggeration and making Richie groan.

"I hope it's a back brace because I'm going to need it if you keep moving around like that," Richie grumbled below Y/N who he was currently carrying on his back through the woods.

"And whose fault is that?" Y/N inquired, a smirk on her face as she glanced down at the boy. Richie frowned and Y/N chuckled before reaching out and pushing his glasses back up his nose which in turn received a thankful glance from the boy.

"You were the one who bet Y/N couldn't do a round off back handspring followed by four flips in the air before hitting the water at the Quarry," Eddie pointed out, earning a small glare from Richie.

"How was I supposed to know she did gymnastics for seven fucking years? She didn't disclose that information to me. This isn't fair," Richie complained.

"Quit complaining, Rich," Mike laughed, pushing a tree branch out of the way in order for Richie to walk under it successfully without Y/N being hit. "It could be worse. She could've made you do literally anything else, but all she's doing is making you give her a piggyback ride."

"Yeah, through the fucking forest," Richie grumbled. "I really think you just love to torture me, sweetheart."

"It's my job," Y/N replied with a smug look on her face.

"I can't!" Richie exclaimed suddenly placing the girl on the ground and putting his arms up in the air in order to stretch. "I think my back is about to spaz out or something."

"Rich—" Y/N began, a bit of concern flashing through her eyes as she looked at the boy.

"It's fine, Richie. I'll carry her for you so that you don't have to worry about it anymore," Bill spoke up, his words making Y/N's eyes widen as she quickly spun around to look at the boy.

He stood there with his hands in his pocket, a shy grin on his face as he let his eyes flicker over to her. "As long as that is okay, of course," Bill whispered.

"Thank you!" Richie exclaimed before beginning to shove Y/N over to the boy. "I know I practically carry the whole group with my dazzling personality, but I didn't think I'd literally have to carry one of you. Please, just take her."

If Y/N had wanted to protest, she had no chance for Richie had shoved her forward one last time and she was suddenly face to face with Bill. Her mouth hung open a bit, her face beginning to heat up while her heart beat rapidly in her chest.

"You sure you're okay with this?" Y/N questioned, hesitantly watching Bill who just gave her a warm smile and nodded his head before turning around in order for her to climb onto his back.

Y/N let out a shaky breath and placed her hands on Bill's shoulders before jumping up, the boy catching her legs while she desperately wrapped her arms around his neck and dug her face into the crook of his neck in order not to fall off. Once she was sure she was okay, Y/N peeled her eyes open and let out a small sigh of relief as Bill began to walk once again, this time with her gently holding onto him for a piggyback ride.

Y/N glanced over in Richie's direction to check and see how he was doing before her eyes widened at the sight of him smirking at her. It didn't take much for her to realize Richie had planned this, had been hoping this is how it would play out. She sent a small glare in his direction and didn't even think twice in leaning her head against Bill's while the boy tried to hide his growing blush.

The group walked for a while longer, some of them mumbling their own conversations to one another while Bill and Y/N remained silent and enjoyed the small walk.

"Now that we finally managed to get Richie to stop complaining, I've got to say I'm just as curious as Y/N," Beverly spoke up, glancing between her friends before stopping on Ben. "What is it, Ben?"

"Sorry to disappoint, but it's nothing like what Y/N suggested. However, I think it might be a bit better," Ben said, a small smile growing on his face as he suddenly stopped in a small clearing in the center of the woods.

The group came to a stop and Y/N sat up a bit and leaned an arm against Bill's shoulder which she used to prop up her head. "What are we looking at here, Hanscom?" Y/N questioned.

"Oh, right," Ben said as he snapped out of his daze and hurried over to a small spot in the ground. Y/N couldn't quite understand what he was doing and Bill glanced back at her, the two both sharing a look before realizing how close their faces were and quickly looking away.

Before they knew what was happening, Ben had grabbed ahold of something and pulled it up to reveal some sort of hatch with a hole in the ground. Y/N furrowed her eyebrows in confusion as she watched Ben glance at them before he began to climb into the hole.

"Uhh, whatcha doin' there, Ben?" Stan questioned, walking over to Bill and Y/N in order to help the girl get down.

"Come down!" Ben called out. Everyone left above shared a look before hesitantly staring at the hole. Finally, Y/N let out a small laugh of excitement and broke everyone out of their trance as she skipped over to the hole. She gave them a mock salute before beginning to climb down, the others shaking their heads at her in amusement before following after.

Y/N made it only halfway down the ladder before she managed to piece together what she was walking into. A look of shock appeared on her face as her feet managed to touch the ground. She stepped away from the ladder allowing the others to get down as well while she tried to take in her surroundings which looked to be some sort of clubhouse under ground.

"What the dick is this?" Richie asked as he jumped off the last part of the ladder and onto his feet. He adjusted his glasses and began to walk around while Y/N shook her head at the boy. "How'd you build it?"

"When did you build it?" Bill questioned, scaring Y/N as she realized the boy was standing right beside her. She couldn't stop herself from jumping in surprise and Bill quickly looked at her, a startled and guilty look on his face while Y/N nervously laughed and looked away with red cheeks.

"Here and there, I guess," Ben said with a small shrug as if it were no big deal.

"Ben, this is so cool!" Y/N exclaimed as she hurried over to the boy and gave him a big hug. "It's like our own little Narnia."

"Minus the creepy witch trying to kill us and the talking animals and—" Richie began to list off, but one glare from Y/N had him putting his hands up in surrender.

"It was already dug out from something," Ben said while Y/N let him go. "So I just had to reinforce the walls and get some wood for the uhh. . .for the roof door and that's pretty much it. Pretty good for my first time, huh?" He leaned a hand against one of the wood beams and a piece of the ceiling suddenly broke off and fell to the ground.

Y/N had to jump out of the way and she stumbled into Stan who was quick to catch his cousin and help her stand up right. She sent him a grateful look and wiped the dust off of her shirt before linking her arm with Stan like always.

"Now that's a cool feature," Richie mused. "What happens when you put your hand on the other pillar, Professor?"

"Okay, you see, this is exactly why there are safety codes, why we have permits!" Eddie exclaimed, slapping his hand on top of the palm of his other one for emphasis. "This place is a death trap, you understand that?"

"Right. Well, it's a work in progress, okay, Eddie?" Ben said, his shoulders slumping a bit.

Y/N frowned and gave Stan's arm a small squeeze before moving over to Eddie. "Come on, Eds," she said as she gently placed a hand on his shoulder. "Calm down a bit, okay? We're fine. Ben was just trying to do something nice for us and he did all of this by himself. Be a kid for a minute and realize how fucking cool this is."

Eddie glanced at the girl and despite his frown, managed to relax a bit before giving her a small smile. Y/N grinned and wrapped an arm around Eddie's shoulders in order to give him a side hug while the boy weakly tried to push her away while hiding his smile.

"Just know if I get hurt, you are liable," Eddie said as he pointed at Ben. "Also, what is this?" He pulled away from Y/N in order to whack a small metal box. "The switch of the Iron Maiden?"

"That's. . .that's a flashlight," Ben replied.

"And what is that? A horse hitch?" Eddie questioned while Y/N put a hand to her forehead and lightly shook her head. She loved Eddie, but he could be a bit high strung at times. "When do you have horses down—oh, this is cool."

He got distracted from his ranting and picked up a paddle ball. "That was like three dollars so be careful with that please," Ben muttered.

"I have one of these," Eddie said before beginning to play with the object. He bounced the ball as far away as he could and looked to Stan with a smile. "Hey, Stan. You see this?"

"Yeah, okay. Can. . .maybe. . .you not?" Stan asked as he flinched back, the others all watching the two in slight amusement and annoyance.

"Maybe not what?" Eddie questioned as he bounced the ball faster. "Yeah, yeah. Hold on. Maybe I'll not what? Maybe I'll not what? Be awesome and have fun and celebrate the magic of the power of the paddle ball?"

Y/N raised her eyebrows in amusement and was just about to tell Eddie to cut it out when he dropped the paddle to the ground, the ball falling off of the string and rolling across the ground and between some wooden skates in the ground.

Everyone was silent before Y/N let out a loud laugh that had Eddie glaring at her while she stumbled over to them and leaned against Stan for support. "That was on you!" Y/N exclaimed while Eddie pouted.

"Uhh, no. It was Stanley. Good going, fucknut. You broke his thing," Eddie said causing Stan to blink his eyes in surprise band before looking at his friend.

"I broke it?" Stan questioned.

"Yeah, you broke it with your face. Y/N saw," Eddie said as he pointed at the girl who held up her hands in surrender.

"I saw nothing," Y/N insisted earning a smug look from Eddie and a look from Stan that practically screamed 'seriously?'

"I'm not putting my fucking hand down there," Eddie insisted before him and Stan began to argue.

Y/N watched the two in amusement before leaning her arm against Stan's shoulder and turning to look at the others. "Oh, this is going to be fun," she said, a grin appearing on her face while the others began to smile.

Her and the Losers would end up spending half of their summer in there and Y/N would be the one to give the place a name one evening when the group was all joking around and eating the candy Y/N had managed to sneak out of the house with Stan. And that very name would stick for years to come.

The Clubhouse.

* * *

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