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lluvguts · 3 years

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stargazing // byler

pairing: will byers / mike wheeler & eleven / max mayfield

genre/warnings: mainly fluff! some soft angst

word count: 2502

summary: Where the party goes laser tagging for Will's 16th birthday and something happens that Mike will never forget aka that first kiss no one asked for.

n/a: post season 3 spoilers!! you’ve been warned!

March 22nd, 1987

6:37 pm

“Lucas, I don’t even care if it’s Will’s birthday, so help me if you crash this car I’m making Eleven open the gate and feed you to the Demodogs,” Dustin yelled from the front seat of the Henderson’s van with the rest of the group piled in the back.

“El can’t do that anymore, genius.” Max had her hands clasped in Eleven’s lap.

“I have my license, Dustin. Stop freaking out,” Lucas groaned but still reduced his speed by a few miles.

“Lie-sense?” Eleven looked to Max.

“Can we please stop arguing?” Mike hollered over the shouting from the back of the van, as well as Max’s arm stretching across the console to crank the volume louder on the radio.

The party had decided to celebrate Will Byer’s sixteenth birthday in the most acceptable way possible: laser tag. The boys had outgrown Dungeons & Dragons—for the most part—but that didn’t stop them from pooling their money and planning on spending the night shooting each other with lasers and eating junk food like children; if anything it brought back the nostalgia of their middle school antics. The girls, on the other hand, didn’t care for the game as much—although Eleven had a difficult time wrapping her head around the entire idea of laser tagging—and they only went for the sake of Will and to spend time together.

The van slowly turned into the parking lot of the laser tag center and the chatter subsided.

“Is this what you wanted for your birthday?” Mike turned to Will. The other boy gave a shy smile and nodded. No matter how many weeks since they’d announced their relationship to the party and their parents—even realizing it themselves—Will’s affectionate gestures made Mike’s heart beat a little faster, and his eyes linger on the boy’s face a little longer. He wasn’t used to it yet, he’d never been in a real relationship. And his smile is driving me mad.

Will took Mike’s hand and pulled him out of the last row of seats. As he jumped down from the van Mike’s eyes flickered to his shorts. Only briefly. Were they always that..short? His heart leapt from his chest and he looked away, embarrassed, only to find their intertwined fingers. Will caught Mike’s flustered expression.

“What?” he laughed and held up their hands, “Do you want me to stop?”

“No!” Mike said, his face reddening. “Uh, I mean, you don’t have to. Sorry, it’s just all so new-“

“Hey! Birthday boy! Get over here! You too, stupid,” Max called, pointing to the Polaroid camera in her hands while the rest of the group huddled around the front entrance for the photo.

Will smiled up at the dark haired boy and lead them over to the others. Max held the camera out in front of her as the rest of the group filed behind her, grinning. Will snaked his hand over Mike’s shoulders and Eleven draped her arms around Max from behind.

“Cheese!”

“Mike, stop looking at Will, look at the camera,” Lucas snapped.

They all laughed as the light flashed.

“I took a few, so you all get a copy.” Max let the film develop for a few seconds and handed them each a photo. Mike took one and before he slid it into his pocket he showed it to Will, both staring at their cheeky grins. He already knew where he’d keep the photo—on the bulletin board in his bedroom, amongst ticket stubs, poems and sketches Will had done, and photos of the group when they were younger; right next to the many polaroids he’d snapped of Will. A collage of his hazel eyes. His beautiful, bright eyes.

“Cute, Mikey,” Will whispered. Was he talking about the picture? Or him?

Will briefly touched Mike’s shoulder then caught up with the rest of them, leaving him to stare at the smiles on the film, hiding his blush.

7:02 pm

“Boys against girls!”

“How is that fair?” Eleven hissed, “It’s just the two of us.”

“We can join a group that’s already in there,” Will added.

“You’re all such a headache. Let’s just split it into two groups. Me, Mike and Dustin on the red team. Will, Lucas and Eleven on blue. Deal?” Max counted off on her fingers.

Mike looked around the area as the others went with their teams and pulled on the correct vests and guns.

“Need some help?” Max asked and went to her girlfriend’s side, she was holding the gear in her arms with a startled expression like she was handling a bomb. She giggled as Max guided the heavy vest over her head and adjusted it to her small waist. Eleven watched it all in wonder, then looked up at her face.

“Pretty,” She said to Max and leaned in for a hug, their pink cheeks pressed close.

“See Will? It’s that simple,” Dustin whispered loudly and then chuckled while he watched the girls. Will punched Dustin in the arm and his eyes quickly met Mike’s from across the neon lit waiting room.

Will was about to say something to him, not in words. In his stare. But the booming voice from the overhead speaker filled the room.

“Game begins in five,” The announcer said.

“Alright. I’m going to go with my team. You remember the rules?” Max had her hands on Eleven’s shoulders, staring into her eyes.

Mike tried to make Will look again, but he was talking to Dustin as they headed into a different room. What was he going to say? What was so simple?

Eleven pointed to Max’s glowing chest, “Shoot the red vests. Hide. Be quiet.”

“See? You’ll do great,” Max hugged her one last time and went over to the door, “But, I am going to win.”

“We’ll see about that, Mad Max.” Lucas shouted and patted their shoulders companionably.

A buzzer sounded as the main doors opened; Mike’s team rushed inside to station themselves around the maze. The arena was pitch black save for the neon lights across the carpeted floor and a constellation of yellow artificial stars on the ceiling. He knew that Will’s team was somewhere on the opposite side, lurking in the shadows. Waiting to stake the perfect moment to strike. The visual made Mike’s heart race and he was drowning in worry.

He could only think of Will. It’s gonna be just like that time at the arcade. Just like Halloween. He’s gonna be walking and everything’s fine until someone jumps out and it triggers a memory in his mind. What if he can’t control it, and the figure in front of him suddenly turns into a Demogorgon? Or the Mind Flayer in his head?

Mike crept around the curved bend in the maze and quietly ducked into a dark alcove to think. A shout suddenly echoed and floated up into the air, the resonant cry drifting to Mike’s ears. To anyone else the sound only meant that someone had gotten caught off guard and a laser to the chest.

What if that’s Will? Is he okay?

Mike sat up slowly, hoping to find Will and make sure he was safe; he turned his head around the edge of the alcove and in the sound of slamming plastic someone crashed into him. He staggered back, registering the face.

“Oh. Will, thank God. I was going to see-“

Before he could get out the last of his sentence Will took the barrel of his laser gun and pinned Mike back against the alcove wall.

He couldn’t speak.

Mike only watched Will draw his lips up to his mouth, frozen in surprise. Will squeezed the trigger as their lips parted at the same time, as though they’d wanted this from the start. He kissed Will back and shuddered when he felt a brush of those teeth along the front of his flushed lips; Mike dropped his gun and grabbed at his face, embracing the startling sensation when Will pressed himself closer, trapping him. Oh God, don’t move. Don’t pull away, Mike pleaded.

The trigger went off and Mike’s vest buzzed and filled the space with flashing red light—but Will didn’t let go. He just rooted him in place by the tip of the gun, its weight carrying all throughout the plastic front of his vest and into his pounding heart.

Will sighed into his open mouth, making Mike shudder involuntarily before he moved his body away. The air was filled with the sound of their shaky breathing.

“That’s what I wanted for my birthday,” Mike’s heart sped up at his gruff, breathy voice.

Mike reached for him again, “W-Wait-“

“Shhh,” Will whispered and placed his hand on Mike’s face, smirking, “You’re dead, Wheeler.”

He rushed out of the alcove with a smile plastered on his face before Mike could run after him. The vest shook once more, signaling his loss, before the color faded and died. Mike slid down onto the floor and brought his fingers to his hot cheeks. His lips started to burn as the last few minutes replayed in his head, making his breathing turn ragged again and his stomach twist back into messy, feverish knots.

Mike felt the pulse roar in his ears, still staring at the empty space where Will was only moments before. Where he’d just kissed him.

What just happened?

8:49 pm

“Our team,” Eleven started, staring hopelessly out the car window into the night, “Lost.”

“Yep,” Dustin sighed, “That’s what happens when you’re up against the best.”

Mike ignored their arguing and stared out the back window at the stars. They covered the dark sky, too many to count, thousands of glittering and radiant sparks—they reminded him of Will’s eyes. So full of amber light and happiness, no matter the circumstance.

“Hey.” Mike flinched when there was a tap on his shoulder. Any touch from him and Mike turned into a live wire, his lungs forgot how to work and his heart thrashed wildly inside his aching chest. He longed to let Will’s touch linger, to sustain the burning, fluttering sensation.

“Yeah?” He whispered, taking the time to even his breathing before he looked at Will.

His eyes flickered between Mike’s, searching his face. “Was that alright?”

“Was what alright?”

“Back in the arena..you know..”

Mike’s cheeks burned tomato red as he remembered the softness of his lips and quickly murmured, “Oh, yeah. That was really nice Will, I just-“

“What?” He leaned in, as if getting closer would help to understand. Mike’s body tensed at the hurt beginning to show on Will’s face.

“It..kinda caught me off guard.”

Will paused. “Do you want me to ask you next time? If it’s okay?”

Mike nodded.

Will smiled at their bodies, intentionally placed as far apart as possible. “Can I hold your hand?”

He nodded again and Will slipped his hand into Mike’s, letting his fingers trail absently along the front of his knuckles.

“Mike, this is your stop,” Lucas said from the driver’s seat. Will held his hand tighter.

“Could I come too?” Will asked him quietly, “My mom wouldn’t mind.”

“Of course,” Mike hid his red face as he climbed over the back seat to the car door.

“Aight. Happy birthday, Will,” Dustin said and waved at the two.

He gave Dustin a shy smile. “Thanks, guys. It was really fun.”

“Don’t do anything stupid!” Max shouted out the window as the van sped away.

They stared at each other for a moment, in the quiet of the night, standing in front of the Wheeler’s unlit driveway. Until the front door swung open and Nancy was calling from the porch.

“Guess we better go in then,” Mike whispered, caught up in Will’s gaze.

He looked away, grinning. “Yeah.”

9:02 pm

“There’s so many photos here,” Will inspected the cork board on Mike’s wall. When they’d went inside Mike opened the window above his bed to let the peaceful night sounds in, and allow the stars outside to watch.

“Wait a minute,” Will touched a piece of paper tacked on the board, “I drew this.”

“I love your art, Will. How could I not hang it up?” Mike smiled up at him, so full of affection. He’s adorable when he’s flustered. Will muttered something under his breath and his face turned pink.

“Oh, right!” Mike got off his bed and joined his side. He handed over the Polaroid photo from his pocket, “You can pick the spot to put it up if you want.”

Will studied the picture, as if seeing it for the first time. He was close, close enough that Mike could see every detail of his face, see the curve of his lips that had fit so perfectly in his own.

“You’re so cute.” He pointed to Mike in the photo, then tore a piece of tape to hang the Polaroid next to a small drawing. A pencil sketch of Mike, with a caption at the bottom in Will’s handwriting: my Paladin.

“Y-you’re uh, pretty cute too,” Mike stammered. When Will finished hanging the picture he turned around and followed him to the bed, his head tipping up so their eyes met. The air suddenly felt very warm as they sat chest to chest—silent except for the crickets outside—until Will spoke softly.

“Mikey, can I ask something?” His hazel eyes never left his face.

Mike didn’t realize he’d been holding his breath.

“Anything.”

Will was leaning back on his hands, and decidedly scooted closer. “Can you..hold me please?”

His eyes widened. Will’s request was so gentle that it made Mike’s heart burn for him. The desire to have him in his arms. “Of course I will.”

Mike took his hands and wrapped them around his neck, leaning them back on the comforter, drawing him closer than they’d ever been before. Will nestled his cheek to Mike’s chest as he faced the stars out the open window, his legs eased down to rest snug by his sides.

“Is this okay?” Will asked, tilting his head up so he could nestle into Mike’s neck. His soft brown hair brushed Mike’s skin and sent goosebumps racing up his arms. He closed his eyes and rubbed Will’s back in comforting circles.

“It’s perfect,” He said.

Will yawned. “This was such a great birthday.”

“Yeah?”

“Duh, I had my first kiss.” Will murmured, his fingers under Mike’s neck started to play with his dark curls.

“Tired?” Mike asked, his hands never leaving his back.

“Only a little,” He replied with a drowsy smile against his chest.

He laughed and put a hand gingerly on Will’s face to move a strand of hair. In the minutes that followed he let Will fall asleep while he studied the stars outside, listened to the heartbeat of the boy on top of him, the drawing on the cork-board. The title scrawled beneath.

“My Cleric,” Mike whispered to the stars.

#byler #byler is canon #elmax #stranger things fanfiction #byler fanfic #byler fanfiction #elmax fanfic #fluff #first kiss au #fluff fanfic #st fanfic

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delfts-purple · 3 years

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Saints Row Reboot Thoughts

So originally I had a massive ass post of my SR5 wish list sitting in my drafts but since that's now useless, gonna do this. For some context I have been playing since 06, when I was way to young and I fucking hated 4. Now lets go!

My Wants and not wants:

Reboot after SR2 or SRTT. No hate, SRTT was alright but it may be easier and better to reboot from SR2. I seriously do not want you to redo 1 and 2. They are very good games that can stand the test of time and deserve their place. I may be more pissed if you retcon 1 and 2 than I was at 4. Like I guess I could live with a remaster if it was a graphical and control scheme overhaul only. I do hear you young fans, we did have clunky controls back then but they were normal so I don't get put off by it.

It looks to be the case we are going back to the roots and my god are we overdue.

Lets talk clothing. Basically the entire clothing system from SR2, that is what I want pray for. It was peak customization that I have not had another game match.

BIG PHAT GOLD CHAINS PLEZ. I know its probably not fashionable anymore but hot damn it looks so good.

Body slider/Gender slider (idk what to call it) from SR2. Not only is it great for our Trans homies. It was just a great, nah, amazing tool. Really before its time.

Please, make it so I don't have to be a body builder. Like skinny Bosses need more love. My boy Ty was always skinny till 3 and 4 forced him to be bulky. Skinny boys need love tooo!!!!

Honestly like a hybrid of the character builder from 2 and 3 would work. The color, make up and feature diversity of SR3. Paired with the fine tuning of SR2. Its just like chefs kiss.

Custom walking styles, I always loved that my and my friends boss not walk alike.

Two tone hair again maybe? I just think its neat.

Honestly just all the fucking activities from SR2 and SR1. I loved them all, well except Heli assault but people liked that to so let them have it.

Tagging, please, I love tagging.

GOLD/PLATNUIM WEPON UNLOCKS! So gangster like hot damn.

BOOZE AND DRUGS! Like I have had 100s of hours of fun fucking about with that. Like if we had the variety of SR1 in booze and drugs, I would die and got to heaven.

I mean if you can find a way to not make romancing a bastardization I guess you can keep it.

JUST DON'T! Don't bastardize that charaters.

Can we maybe have back some of that grit? Like SR2 was a prefect balance of grit and humour. SRTT felt like I was a toddler been mollycoddled by shallow humour. Not enough grit and felt like it was wrote by a 10th grader tbh.

Make the Boss... them again. Like non of this 'he hu puckish rouge' shit. I don't play a gang game to be a fucking hero. I know, shock, horror. I play it to be a sociopathic bastard. I got 100 fucking games where I am the good guy, sometimes ya boi needs a break. A evil, going to hell for this, I do question my mental status when I laugh at this, break.

Mission and cut scene replay. One of the reason SR1 and 2 save files can rack up into the 1000s of hours for me is this feature. If I want to play one mission, I don't have to replay the whole game. I can give in to whims. I do not have a word for it in English but it is maximum happiness with fun.

More cut scenes. Like there felt like there was less of them in 3 and 4.

Idle animations. My Boss just been like 'yep, Delfts gone, time to go fishing or drinking or smoking' was just great.

Look Gat was never some weird immortal, unbeatable guy until you made him that way in 4 onwards. He was the kinda hot headed, asshole, who got him self into trouble over it, guy who we adored. Bring my boi back.

A photo mode. I mean I got very, very good at cropping screenshots and clipping my camera of walls but, my Boss deserves better! He his my handsome little killer and people need to know that.

MKUltra elevator nightmare shopping/wardrobe/garage screens, you know the ones, fucking scrap them. Go back to how it was in 1 and 2. I do not need to be subjected to CIA brutality while playing SR. I got enough of that thanks.

Keep the phone menu, that shit was tight. Real immersed me and I love seeing the Bosses phone. I mean I have bought and made replicas of them ffs.

Make hazel eyes behave like the did in the remaster. Like damn. Just. I have a whole post on this shit thats how good it was.

I know you guys are good for it but keep them fun af cheats. I spent to long as a massive af beating up super small people as it rained corpses. Oh and the gravity was gone.

Don't have dual wielding as a fucking upgrade. My Boss just dual wields, let him, like you did in 2.

Weapon skins, like in SR4, that was alright. I wouldn't mind that one.

Keep the Bosses back story vague still. I haven't wrote and perfected his back story over the last decade or more so you can piss on it.

Jackets and hoodie, stop the putting my hair in a ponytail. Last time I put on a fucking track jacket I didn't have to tie my hair back, It didn't happen in 2 so why 3 and 4?

Respect and Missions. Can we either have a return to the old style respect system to make people play the side missions or just not make people play them by force. I fucking hate Heli assault and all that flying shit, so been forced to do it made me want rip my hair out. Like if they are there people will play the ones they want, I do not want to be made to do it by the main story. THX

Bring back the day/night cycle. I could play for much longer when it wasn't so monotone. Also it made me think about what I was doing when. Like I wouldn't got to the night club at 10am.

Bring back Nightclubs. Tyde want's to party and so does Delfts.

Stop making the character hollow 2D’s of their former selves.

A varied city, like Stilwater. Seriously, feels like a real city and I have lived or worked in over 6 in my life so I know. Steelport felt like what some Vatnik Babushka (Boomer Grandma) in rural Siberia would describe the city, dull and unrealistic.

Have the gangs act like actual gangs. You know, go around doing crime and harassing NPCs like they did in 1 and 2.

NPCs, make them like you did in SR2. They acted like real people, did the most random and weird shit. Felt real. They also all look different or their was such a wide variety in base models I didn’t notice repetition. SRTT and SRIV they were like 5 NPCs. I had occasions where there was 10 of the same model and I was like, two or three is okay but fucking 10?

Make them drive the way they did in 1 and 2 too. I have drove in a city for a long time and that shit was so real. People are dumb sometimes.

Bring back Freckle Bitches!!!!!!

If I think of anything else I will add it but feel free to add your own and disagree with me. I kinda want to here how all you others be feeling about this. I feel fear and happy. Also can you tell I blasted this out at like 4am.

#Saints Row #Saints Row V #Saints Row 5 #Saints Row Reboot #SR #SRV #SR5 #SR Reboot

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ickle-ronniekins · 4 years

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quick to judge

request from nonnie: Hi Erica! I love your writing sm, and was wondering if I could request a fic with either George or Fred (I’m partial to George but I love them both esp since they both live long happy lives 🙃) where reader is on a rival quidditch team (pref slytherin chaser but up to you!) and F/G have to get over their innate dislike of her because of the rivalry because she’s like the perfect girl for him? No worries if you don’t like the idea, I just wanted to ask, thank you❣️❣️

request from nonnie: if your requests are open can i request 11 & 23 from your writing prmopt list with george weasley? “knock it off, you tosspot! | “join us tonight?”

pairing: george x slytherin fem!chaser

prompt(s): “knock it off, you tosspot!” | “join us tonight?”

word count: 3.9k

A/N: i loved these requests—thank you darlings! i don’t write slytherin all that often so when i do, it’s a treat :) also just imagine sneaking around the castle with george weasley ugh i am weak for it.. hope you guys enjoy reading this story as much as i did writing it! x

tag list: @mintlibri @georgeweasleyx @seppys-return-to-madness @fopdoodledane @fredd-weasley @iprobablyshipit91 @darling-details @laneygthememequeen @lupinsx @keoghans @helloallthethingsilove @bobduncanlover @dreamer821 @feffffffy | message me if you’d like to be added, loves!

“Ugh—murder me, George.”

Fred is pulling at his hair whilst Angelina dishes new information to the entirety of the Gryffindor Quidditch team during the evening feast. George peers from his disheveled looking twin to the other end of the Great Hall, where he spots you in your green robes, blowing gently on a cup of tea before immersing yourself into conversation with another Slytherin Chaser next to you. Yep—much to the Gryffindor Quidditch team’s dismay—they’d found a new Chaser.

“C’mon now, give her a chance,” Angelina says in a hushed whisper, doing her very best to keep the team civilized. “Just because we.. strongly dislike most of the Slytherins doesn’t mean we need to feel that way about her, as well. I’ve actually heard very nice things.”

“Yeah?” Fred begins sarcastically, slumping in his seat. “Like what?”

“Like she’s a fair player,” Katie Bell answers.

“And a bloody good player, at that.”

“Ugh,” Fred says rather dramatically and rolls his eyes. He turns to Harry and George and nods in the direction of the girls, who are still speaking. In a lower voice, he asks them, “Can you believe this rubbish? ‘Give her a chance’. Merlin! When have Gryffindors and Slytherins ever gotten along? Look, I’ll be civilized,” Fred says in defense when Harry raises his eyebrows at him, “but there’s no bloody way in hell I’m taking it easy on her.”

“Definitely don’t need to take it easy,” Harry teases, “but we still need to play fair.”

George is hardly paying attention to the conversation in front of him; his hands are clutched tightly around his mug. He watches as a soft grin tugs at the edges of your lips, he notices the way your eyes glisten in the evening sunset light streaming in from the windows, the way you throw your head back and laugh—a laugh he cannot hear, but realizes, suddenly, that he’s dying too. Oh, no.

“Angelina’s right,” he says, trying to sound impartial before the boys notice his lingering stare. When Fred raises his eyebrows suspiciously at his twin, George carries on, “look, ‘m just saying—isn’t that what our entire team stands for? Sportsmanship, or whatever? I know we don’t have a good relationship with the Slytherins, but I reckon being nice with her may turn that around.”

Fred is taken aback at this and asks, “Being nice? Oi—what’s gotten into you? Feeling feverish?” He places a hand on top of George’s forehead and laughs as George slaps his hand away teasingly. A smirk spreads itself across his face and he turns to Harry and says, “Merlin—prepare yourself, Harry. He’s in love.”

George feels his stomach tighten and Harry stifles a bit of confused laughter. “What? How can you tell?”

George is rigid in his seat now. Love is such an overdramatic statement, but he can barely bring himself to roll his eyes at Fred; he’s still trying to remember how to breathe properly. Fred, as if placing George on display somehow, points at him— “Flushed face, dilated pupils, red ears—cold hands,” he grabs both of George’s hands to feel his skin is nearly ice cold, something that tends to happen each and every time George gets nervous. “There are four ways to tell our dear Georgie is smitten, Harry, and I’ve just named them for you.”

Coming to his senses, George slaps his brother. “You’re off your rocker, Fred.”

Fred laughs again and says to Harry, “Off my rocker, he says. But just look at her, would you? She’s just his type. Plus—she plays Quidditch. I promise you, Harry, he’s taken with her already.”

George tells his twin, “Lay off. Just trying to be impartial.”

“Right.” Fred says, smirking a bit while shooting glances toward Harry, who’s doing his best to not choke on his tea due to laughter. “Impartial. Try not to bat your long, beautiful eyelashes at her during our match then, okay, Georgie?” Raucous laughter bounces off of the walls in the Great Hall.

Then suddenly, Angelina scoffs and turns toward the group. George feels a sinking feeling in his stomach. “Ugh—I think I just saw her laugh at something Draco Malfoy said. Maybe we don’t need to be so civilized after all.”

— -

George emerges with Fred and Harry from the changing rooms and they make their way onto the pitch for the match. He’s feeling much more nervous than ever before; he glances up into the stands and notices Ron, Hermione and Ginny, sitting and waiting patiently for the match to begin.

He suddenly feels his knees weaken when he notices you in your green robes just a few feet away.

You all mount your brooms and hover in the air; George was kind of hoping that the Slytherin team would introduce their newest Chaser to the Gryffindor team, but isn’t surprised when they don’t. He finds himself to be slightly sad at the thought, and then shakes his head to push away any feelings that will interfere with his playing. They just need to win and get this over with. Here’s hoping Harry catches the snitch before Malfoy, who’s hovering near Flint and laughing at each and every one of the Gryffindors.

Fred’s looking more on edge—like he wants nothing more than to send every single bludger right into Malfoy’s head during the entirety of the match.

“Reckon I could?” Fred asks George suddenly, hovering in the air, waiting for Madam Hooch’s whistle. “Send them Draco’s way, I mean.”

George laughs and replies, “Sorry, mate—unless you want Gryffindor to forfeit, I reckon you’d better resist the urge.”

It’s a short match, to say the least. Harry’s looking positively dreadful at the sight of Malfoy snickering on the other end of the pitch as he twirls the glistening Snitch in his hands. To Harry, Fred says, “Don’t worry about it, mate—they’ve got a good lineup this year. Better than, even. Bloody hell, I reckon we maybe should’ve taken that new Chaser a bit more seriously—”

“Don’t.” George cuts him off angrily, digging his shoes into the muddy field up to the castle. He’s feeling rather poorly after Gryffindor’s loss. Fred and Harry exchange confused looks.

Fred, wanting nothing more than to lighten the mood of the loss, asks his brother, “You alright there, Georgie? No longer in love?”

Harry laughs nervously, but it’s George’s annoyed-sounding scoff that takes Fred by surprise. George glances toward the Slytherin team, each member high-fiving one another due to their win. He feels anger bubbling up inside him and turns back toward the castle, his brows furrowed and face flushed red. He just wants to get back to the dormitory as quickly as he can. “Oh knock it off you tosspot. I was never in love—I can’t believe those slimy Slytherins won the match—erm, no worry, Harry, we’ll get them next time—” he says a bit softer when he notices Harry’s woebegone look. To Fred, he continues, “—can’t believe I ever thought that Gryffindors and Slytherins could get along.. Merlin. Next time I have such a wicked thought, Fred, do me a favor and knock me over the head with a spellbook of mine, would you?”

Fred laughs and slings an arm around his twin. “Don’t need to ask me twice.”

— -

Fred and George find themselves the last place they ever want to be—in the library, grudgingly working on an extra long Potions essay assigned to their class by Professor Snape in a moment of pure rage. Fred’s arms are sprawled out across the table and he’s laying across his blank parchment rather dramatically, groaning against the desk. George, on the other hand, is scribbling quite animatedly, wanting to get out of the library as quickly as possible. Then he spots you a few rows over, rolls his eyes, and writes even faster.

“It’s no use, mate,” Fred’s voice is tired, “I can’t do this. This schoolwork is nearly killing me. I’m going back to the Common Room; Ron said something about a game of exploding snap—you coming?”

“You go on,” George replies, not looking up from his parchment, “I want to finish this before the feast.”

Fred puts up his hands in surrender and exits the library as quickly and as swiftly as possible.

George is hoping he can finish this Potions essay within the next half an hour, or so—that way, he’ll have time to change and possibly get in on that exploding snap game before the feast in a bit. But he finds himself distracted. Not in a good way, though. He finds himself distracted by you.

Is it his imagination, or have you moved over a few seats? He shakes his head and looks back down at his parchment. No, it’s not his imagination at all—he looks up again and you’re directly across from him now, your hands spread out over your own piece of parchment and spellbooks, and you smile at him.

“Just wanted to tell you how great you were last week,” you tell him in a low voice so as not to grab Madam Pince’s attention, “really great. Probably two of the best beaters I’ve ever seen, you and your brother.”

Is this some kind of a joke? George furrows his brows and asks, a bit incredulously, “W-what?”

You laugh softly, closing your own spellbook. “Look, I know that the whole Slytherin versus Gryffindor rivalry thing has been going on since Hogwarts opened, basically,” your voice is light and airy, and George is now having conflicting feelings. Was he too quick to judge? “but I figure, that’s not how all Slytherin and Gryffindor relationships need to be. So, just wanted to say—really wicked playing; but don’t expect me to take it easy on you moving forward.” You beam at him, pack your things away and stand up to leave.

“What’re you on about?” George asks, now feeling incredibly defensive. “Is this some kind of ploy? Flatter us and make us all flustered so you can go ahead and absolutely demolish us in the next match like you have this last time? Well, it’s not going to work,” he tells you, closing his own spellbooks and placing them into his bag on the chair next to him. “I appreciate the compliment—you’re a wicked player too, but—anyone who’s friends with Malfoy isn’t someone I reckon I’ll be able to get on with.”

You’re a bit taken aback, George notices, when your face flushes red. You sit back down as he continues to pack up his things. “I’m not friends with Malfoy.”

George just scoffs.

You cross your arms defensively now and stand up with a jolt. “He might be my teammate, but I actually find him to be a right foul git.”

You push your chair in a little too loudly, and now George is feeling incredibly guilty. Maybe you were genuinely trying to be friendly. He gets up and grabs your arm before you exit the library fully. Taking a deep breath, he says, “Wait, wait—‘m sorry. Look, that was really bloody rude of me. It’s just that—”

You soften at his words; you uncross your arms, and grin softly. “I understand that friendships between our two houses can be a bit.. complicated.”

“Throw in Quidditch and we’re nearly done for.”

“Look, I was just being friendly.”

“I know. I appreciate that.”

Just then, a flustered yelp comes from right outside the library. Both you and George turn to look, only to see Crabbe and Goyle tugging on Malfoy’s robes, whose face is seemingly broken out in some type of hive. He’s yelling at the two of them to try any spell, rid me of this! But alas, whatever they do only tends to make the irritation worse. George erupts into laughter.

“What a git,” you say to George.

“Merlin—deserves that, he does. I reckon whoever can pull off that deserves a medal, or something.”

Again you cross your arms—but not indignantly this time. A smirk grows on your face and realization floods over George. He looks back and forth between a very upset Malfoy, and you.

“You?”

“Just jinxed some candies he was eyeing in the common room this afternoon,” you tell him, smirking even more, “I was just so sick and tired of him today. If I had to overhear how bloody wonderful his pureblood family is one more time, I was bound to punch him eventually—reckoned this wouldn’t be as bad for his rep.”

George is still stuck in his spot—his feet cemented into the ground, his entire body is rigid. He’s finding it hard to not peer at you with admiration. Malfoy’s long gone by now—his yelps are growing quieter and quieter as he, Crabbe and Goyle make their way down the corridors toward the Great Hall. You’re still standing in front of George, a smirk on your face and your hands now on your hips, basking in all your glory. Again, as if he hadn’t heard you correctly the first time, George asks, “Y-you? You pranked Malfoy?”

You wiggle your eyebrows at him and he feels his insides twist. Uh-oh. “Color you impressed, Weasley?”

— -

When George was taken aback by your friendly banter in the library those few weeks ago, he never expected to end up back here. In the library. With you. In the row all the way near the back, the row nobody ever visits, after hours in the dark; his hands tight around your abdomen, yours tangled in his hair, his lips on yours for what seems like hours.

The watch on your wrist begins to beep; as if gravity is pulling you both apart, you separate. George groans and tightens his grip on you. “Sorry, Georgie,” you say sweetly, pressing your lips gently to his once more, “got to run—can’t be late for Quidditch practice.”

“Ignore it, ignore it,” George says, eager to kiss you again, “I reckon you can be late just once. Right?”

Somehow still speaking coherently, you say heavily, “Yeah—that won’t look suspicious, or anything. H-how long d’you think we can keep this up?”

He nearly melts when he feels your smile against his lips. “Dunno, but, we’ve made it this far, haven’t we? Want to go public?”

“I don’t think our teams will like that very much,” you reply sadly, running your hands again through his soft hair. You jump up from the table and fix the open buttons on your shirt. “You’ll just have to find a way to sneak into the Slytherin Common Room, then.”

George, now feeling incredibly elated at your interest in mischief, wiggles his eyebrows at you. “Got a lot of faith in me, do you?”

You stand on your tiptoes for a quick peck and adjust his very askew tie. “More than you know. Now c’mon—have got to run, haven’t I? Promise to make it up to you later.”

Once successfully making it out of the closed library without being caught, and bidding you farewell (albeit a bit begrudgingly) in the middle of the corridors before you head to practice, George finds himself nearly skipping through the castle back to the common room. He pops through the portrait hole and immediately jumps onto one of the couches, sprawling himself out across the entire thing and seemingly pushing Ginny off the edge and into an armchair.

“No problem, Georgie, I wasn’t sitting here, or anything..” Ginny growls, taking a spot next to Ron.

“Where’ve you been?” Fred asks a bit angrily, placing his feet up on the table in front of them. “You completely disappeared after class and we haven’t seen you since!”

“Just taking a walk,” George replies, feeling his throat tighten up and knowing that this, full well, is lying straight through his teeth to his own flesh and blood. “Was finishing up an essay first, though.”

Fred, Ron, Ginny, Harry, and Hermione all peer at him quizzically with furrowed brows. George can already tell there are questions bubbling up inside them, but the one that comes first isn’t exactly what he expects.

“Why—why’s your hair all messy?” Ginny asks, and George finds himself hurriedly running his hands through it, trying to smooth it down as much as possible, “and your lips, they’re all rosy! Who’ve you been snogging, George?” she giggles.

The confusion Fred was feeling toward his twin seems to subside as he smirks and places his hands behind his head, relaxing into the couch. “Oh—so there’s a girl? At least there’s a bloody good reason behind your disappearances. Who is it, mate?”

Quick on his feet (or so he thinks), George replies, “I’m not snogging anyone. You’re all out of your minds.”

“Give it up, mate.” Ron says cheekily. “We know.”

George swallows thickly. “You don’t know what you’re on about.”

As the rest of the group laughs, Fred pops a chocolate frog into his mouth and tells his twin, “Sure, George. Next time you sneak out for a midnight rendezvous with your girlfriend, be sure to tell her we’d all like to be introduced, eh?”

— -

“They know.”

It’s nearly ten p.m. and you’re sitting in George’s lap speaking in hushed whispers, running a hand gently through his hair at the nape of his neck as he finally is able to tell you about the encounter with his friends after your last meetup. The library is so much darker than the other night.

“They do?”

“Well, sort of,” he says, stroking your knee, “they at least have this theory that I’m sneaking around with someone. Which, they’re not wrong,” he grins cheekily, leaning up to kiss you softly, “but they don’t know who it is, and I’ve never actually told them that their theory is true.”

“D’you want too?”

“Do you?”

You run your fingers gently across his tie; the glistening of George’s eyes are evident in the moonlight streaming in through the windows. You sigh. “I’ll do whatever you’d like. I’m not saying that the sneaking around isn’t fun, because it definitely is,” George shoots you a cheeky smirk, “and I know that—that Gryffindors kind of have this rep to uphold, as do Slytherins—”

“I care more about you than a reputation, to be honest.”

He knows he’s said the right thing; a large grin spreads out across your face. “Me, too.”

George runs a hand through your hair and grins softly.

“Are you sure this is what you want to do?”

“Of course I am,” George replies, tightening his grip on you, “it’ll be so bloody nice not to ignore one another in the corridors now.”

You throw your head back and laugh; he’s nearly putty in your hands.

He says, making it final, “So we’ll tell them, then.”

“Together?”

“Yeah, together,” he agrees before lifting you up and placing you on the table, leaning you back against some bookshelves and pressing his lips to yours. He slings his arms around your waist and can feel the goosebumps rise on the back of his neck when you run a hand down his chest. Through a geeky grin, he says, “But not tonight, okay? I’m not quite finished with you yet, love.”

— -

George and Fred exit the Transfiguration classroom, nothing but a very long lunch on their planned activities list for the afternoon. The bump into Ginny, Ron, Harry, and Hermione in the corridors and immerse themselves in conversation.

“Fair warning, everyone,” Harry begins, looking ghastly, “Snape’s in a right awful mood today—can’t help but wonder if someone slipped something into his pumpkin juice.”

“Great,” Ginny groans, “just what I needed to hear as I make my way to the Dungeons.”

“Who’s up for a game of exploding snap later on?” Ron asks the group, loosening his tie a bit, “Just have to get through Divination first.”

Without answering, George then spots you rounding the bend. He knows you’re coming from Ancient Runes and heading toward the Great Hall for lunch, too. You both hadn’t told them yet. Hadn’t found the right time. It’s not as if houses can eat and chat with one another during the feasts, can they?

Without fully registering what he’s doing, George seizes his opportunity and bounces over to you, pulling you into a very tight and very noticeable embrace.

He watches as your eyes widen and begins to laugh. “Erm—what’re you doing?” you ask, pulling back. Then you whisper, “I thought we were telling them together, you know.. after we’ve had time to prepare?”

“I thought now would be a good time.”

You cock your head to the side. “Always keeping me on my toes, aren’t you, Weasley?”

He leans in and kisses you lightly. “Sounds about right, yeah.”

But before the two of you can head over to the group of Gryffindors you thought were distracted by conversation, you suddenly hear, “Well it’s about bloody time.”

You both turn your heads to see a very satisfied looking Fred, cheeky Ron and Harry, and happy Ginny and Hermione looking at you both as George’s hand tightens around your waist as the corridors become even busier.

“You knew?” you and George ask together.

“Well, Fred did,” Ron tells you both. “I swear, it’s like he’s got eyes on the back of his head, or something.”

Fred snickers and smirks at his twin. “Really think you could hide this from me? C’mon, Georgie, you know better. The two of you aren’t exactly subtle when you share stolen glances across the Great Hall every bloody evening,”

Everyone falls into a bit of laughter. As the younger ones introduce themselves quite excitedly and then reluctantly head off to class, you, George, and Fred are left in the emptying corridors with the rest of the seventh years also looking forward to a free period.

“Well, Freddie,” George begins, “she’s—”

Fred holds up a hand to his twin. “I know who she is, Georgie—” then, to you with a smile, he continues, “—but I know you as the Slytherin Chaser.. our opponent, if you will. I don’t know you as my twin’s—”

“Girlfriend,” you and George say together, making Fred begin to laugh. You continue, “Hope the fact that I’m a Slytherin won’t make it complicated.”

Fred can’t help but grin broadly. “Not with me, it won’t—especially if you make my brother happy.” George is relieved to hear this and can finally feel the knot in his stomach unwind. Fred keeps on, “Now—whatever effect you have on him is simply wonderful, Y/N. He’s coming back late at night with all of these incredible pranks up his sleeve, I dunno where he gets it—all I know is that it started happening right around the time the two of you began sneaking around.”

“Confession,” George begins, squeezing your hand now, “not all of those ideas were mine.”

And just as George had looked stunned in the library when he figured out that you’d been the one to prank Draco, Fred looks exactly the same. His expression is an exact carbon copy of his twin’s from that day. “Really?”

“Pranks Malfoy a lot these days,” George begins, looking down at you with admiration, “reckon he has it coming, too.”

You turn to Fred and ask with a smile, “Ruddy pumpkin head, isn’t he?”

Fred is certainly taken aback and wildly impressed. “I might just have to pick your brain, then,” he tells you and slings an arm around your shoulder, pulling you along with him as he heads to the Great Hall. He leans in closer to you to speak, leaving George where he’s standing, “Join us tonight, would you? Would love to compare some ideas, if you’re willing.”

You stop in the middle of the corridor and sling your arm around Fred’s back. You peer at George and grin, as if to say, See? We had nothing to worry about. George can’t help but laugh at Fred’s very elated grin when you ask him, “What’d you have in mind, Freddie?”

reblogs & feedback are always appreciated, thank you for reading and requesting, loves x

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merryfortune · 3 years

Text

Gachaplum

Written for 100ships Challenge on Dreamwidth

Prompt #77 Plum

Ship: Rocksaltshipping | Kureha/Spectre

Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh! VRAINS

Word Count: 2,143

Rating: G

Warnings: No Warnings Apply

Tags: Fluff, Self Indulgen, Inspired by a Tweet

“Are you enjoying your drink?” Spectre asked conversationally.

“Yep.” Kureha chirped around her straw.

The drink in question was a tropical iced tea with strawberry bursties as the bottom. It was sharply sweet, right to the core of her teeth, and that’s exactly how Kureha liked it. However it, in combination with the empty tote bag Spectre was carting around, was a horrible omen to Kureha. Her boba tea had been the only non-necessary treat that Spectre had bought for either of them and clearly he meant for impulse purchases, otherwise he wouldn’t have brought a bag.

But Kureha, with a little bit of dread and unuttered complaint, supposed that’s the kind of guy Spectre was. He was very mission oriented and put his organisation above himself. Today’s mission was grocery shopping, as mundane as that sounded but since Spectre and the others could be at sea for weeks on end, grocery shopping was huge and important. So, even though Spectre was empty handed right now, he had already spent big at the restaurant they had visited earlier and before that, at the luxury grocery shop they went to where they bought in bulk and would have it delivered to the docks for the Lieutenants to unpack.

And Kureha had been lucky enough to tag along since this was a somewhat rare opportunity for her and Spectre to hang out in real life. But what was the point of hanging out if they weren’t doing anything special? Kureha agaonised, maybe it was her fault for assuming it would be a date. Then again, they also had a fancy lunch together so maybe it was a date. This was too confusing, Kureha scolded herself. Besides, it's not like she wasn’t enjoying herself. She really was and that was probably the main thing but she wanted Spectre to enjoy himself too.

They had a delicious lunch at a Thai restaurant that had excellent decor and a wide range of food. They ordered a plate of their favourites each yet somehow ended up sharing their meals and soft drinks anyway. It had been wonderful, even if Kureha got a runny nose afterwards and that was a little bit embarrassing but Spectre didn’t bring it up, thankfully - except to rib her that even how she blew her nose was cute. Then, once they had had their lunch, it was time to get to business and Spectre had a very long shopping list.

He took her to a grocery shop inside of a mall with a celebrity level atmosphere. It was stocked with items and brands that Kureha had never heard of because they were so, so, so expensive and yet, he handpicked what he needed from them without so much as a blink at the price tag. Though, he did assure her that he and the other Knights had already budgeted to a tee so there was nothing to worry about. He was in and out rather swiftly, hardly looking at all the things that Kureha was certainly dawdling out and once he was done, he had his things whisked off and taken to be shipped off within the hour by truck.

With the shopping done, they had begun to exit the mall where Kureha had gotten thirsty and she had a keen eye for spotting cute and quirky shops that sold even cuter and quirkier drinks. Spectre had been more than happy to pay for her boba tea, even though she offered and it was very sweet of him but did make Kureha feel a little guilty since, again, that one drink had been the only splurge Spectre had allowed himself and it wasn’t even for him.

Now they were just sort of wandering along, making light conversation whilst Kureha finished her drink. They were sort of on the look out for a tram line or bus that would put them on a route where Spectre could drop off Kureha close to home and then continue back to the mariner but it was difficult since their homes were such polar opposites to another. Though, given that Kureha wasn’t quite ready to end this not quite and maybe it actually was a date-date, it was something of a blessing in disguise so they got to take in the sights of this precinct.

There were all sorts of pretty and intriguing buildings, the paths were lovely and well kempt without a nary crack or dip. The road was fairly busy with cars, taxis, and buses but it was the sidewalks which were busier with people coming to and fro. It was almost overwhelming with all the interesting things to see and do but even so, Kureha kept her eyes peeled for something - anything - that might just serve to prolong the inevitable and then she saw it: a bookshop.

Out of nowhere, to Spectre at least, Kureha grabbed his arm and tugged on it. He pulled back and twisted round to scold Kureha, a scowl on his face but Kureha was already prepared with the best puppy dog eyes she could plead with.

“I want to check out that bookshop, please.” she begged.

Spectre’s scowl softed, “That sounds fine.”

“Yay.” Kureha smiled.

Kureha pointed out the bookshop that she had spotted and Spectre escorted her there. Although, once inside the pristinely white doors, they sort of split off. Not that Kureha minded, that was sort of her plan. Spectre was a bookworm, albeit an incredibly fussy one, so maybe he would find something in here to read and even buy for himself whilst Kureha was mostly killing time. Mainly by trying to covertly stalk Spectre from the manga section whilst he investigated the language arts section a few rows of books over.

She held her breath, whilst trying her best not to get distracted by the latest volumes of a few series of manga that she had been keeping up with, as Spectre pulled out various books… only to all but immediately put them back once he was done looking at their backs. It was a little bit disappointing. Kureha sighed and her eyes downcast to a shiny new volume of her favourite manga but if Spectre refused to buy things for himself, so would she so she scuttled in closer to Spectre again across the floor of the bookshelf.

“See anything interesting?” Kureha asked.

“I’m considering learning French or Spanish as a hobby but I’m not sure which would best extend my current literacy skills so I think I’ll do more research before branching out from bilingualism to multilingualism.” Spectre replied.

“Fair enough.” Kureha murmured.

“Are you ready to go?” Spectre asked. “You seem equally empty handed as me.”

“I saw a few things but nah.” Kureha shrugged.

“Understandable,” Spectre said, “well, would you like to keep going on our way home?”

Kureha fidgetted, “Yeah, that’s fine.” she murmured.

Spectre made an odd expression but it was only the briefest flicker, Kureha was lucky to have caught it. Regardless, they did move on and left the book shop, unsuccessful on all fronts. Maybe their date had just run its course in the most uneventful way possible.

As they walked, Spectre checked his phone and noticed that they should be getting close to a good spot where it would be easy for them to find public transport to suit both their needs. At least according to the maps app that he was looking at, anyway so he had his fingers crossed that it ought to be somewhat helpful even if it wasn’t entirely accurate or true to life. Kureha smiled and agreed. At least she would have part of a bus trip left to spend with Spectre before woosh.

Back to video calls and texts as their only form of contact. It was nice, Kureha didn’t mean to complain, she did genuinely enjoy getting photographs of how Spectre’s plants were going and sending him back the homework she was struggling with but quality time was nicer. At the very least, Kureha wanted a memento of what little quality time they did get and a receipt from a Thai restaurant hardly counted.

Then, once more, in a complete stroke of luck, Kureha’s eye was caught by something that she saw. Not the building - it was just a generic convenience store - but by what adorned it: gachapon machines. Her face split into a huge grin and once more, Kureha grabbed Spectre’s arm and tugged on it.

“Yes?” Spectre said through gritted teeth at Kureha’s prompt.

“I want to use the lucky dip machines. Please, please, please: look, this one has plushies for that virtual pet game I like.” Kureha begged, clutching Spectre’s arm desperately, and her hazelly-green eyes were sparkling so how on Earth was Spectre meant to resist all of that?

The answer, of course, was that he couldn’t. Though, he did give a long suffering sigh, he did let Kureha pull him aside as she used the gachapon machine that she saw outside the convenience store that they had been passing by.

“Would you like me to give you some loose change?” Spectre asked as he stood next to it, trying to look like a mature adult whilst his girlfriend was very much happy to enjoy her childish side.

“No, I’m right, I’ve got it covered.” Kureha said as she dug out her wallet from her handbag. She put in more than enough coins for herself and for Spectre, too. If he refused to treat himself then Kureha was going to force whatever thing she got from it.

She turned the crank a handful of times and heard the plastic balls rattle inside deep within the machine. Kureha smiled as she waited for the internal mechaninations to stop and then she opened up the flap. She grinned as she held onto both lucky dips that she had bought.

“Here you go, you can have this one.” Kureha said as she forced Spectre to take one of them.

Spectre made an unamused expression as he let Kureha put an orange-coloured plastic ball in his hand, “And what am I meant to do with this?”

“Open it and let’s see.” Kureha replied and she demonstrated, as though Spectre didn’t already know how to open a gachapon.

She struggled, a little bit, but eventually got the two halves of her purple plastic ball to split open. She squealed in joy as she unveiled her mystery toy. It had a keyring so she threaded her finger through it and swirled the toy itself off her finger. The little plushie that she had won took the form of a felt, anthropomorphic plum with American style cartoon features adorned with a stitched on ribbon bow.

“This is Plum and she’s my favourite of the virtual fruit pets.” Kureha said.

Somewhere in the back of Spectre’s mind, that did ring a bell. Kureha might have sent screenshots to him of her virtual pet habit and an animated cartoon plum may have been one of them. So, his expression of bemusement faded and turned to surrender. He opened up his gachapon too but Kureha was way more excited than him regarding it.

“I got…” Spectre idly commentated and was mildly surprised by his lucky dip. “I got Plum, too.”

“Wow, what’re the odds?” Kureha laughed.

Spectre’s eyes flicked to the poster plastered to the inside of the gachapon machine that displayed which possible toy was possible to win, “Well, it looks like there are seven characters and we got two, so it was likely a one in fourteen chance assuming all the characters are present in equal measure inside the machine.” he said.

“I didn’t mean it literally.” Kureha laughed even harder.

Spectre smiled a small smile and began to inspect his plush Plum. He thought it was kind of ugly, to be honest, but if Kureha liked it then he could perhaps entertain some fondness for it. The felt was a bit too coarse for his liking.

“I’ll be sure to look after this.” Spectre murmured.

Kureha blinked and her heart fluttered, “Really?” she exclaimed softly.

“Of course,” Spectre said, “it's a precious gift from my precious Kureha. I will treasure it.” He put his own finger through the keyring at the top of the small toy’s head and then put his hand on Kureha’s shoulder, the toy bumping between them. Spectre leaned in and kissed Kureha’s forehead. “I promise to treasure it.” His words brushed over Kureha’s skin like a flower’s petal.

Kureha’s face went bright red upon being kissed, “I’ll treasure mine too.” she eked out in a tiny voice.

“That goes without saying, my silly darling.” Spectre replied and he pulled back. “Come on, we’ve had a long date already, don’t you think? Aren’t you ready to go home yet?”

“I’m ready now.” Kureha said, smiling huge and holding onto her little toy.

#100ships challenge #writing tag #rocksaltshipping #yumejoshi

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gifted-burnout-archive · 4 years

Text

Jim’s Best Friend

Part Eight - 24 Hours Dedicated to Saint Valentine

Word Count: 2060

Author’s Note: As of last update, I have started a tag list! So, if you would like to be notified whenever this story updates, please let me know!

WARNING:

For previous chapters click here.

February, 2006.

It seemed like the entire office enjoyed Valentine's Day, except you. It had never been something you really looked forward to, Hell the year before you spent it travelling through Spain alone. In hind sight, it was a great idea.

But, the office loved it, especially Pam, and you all sent little notes and stuff to one another, Pam decorated especially, and with Michael out of the office for a corporate meeting in New York, it was at least nice to see everyone in the office happy.

You sat in the kitchen, running through your personal budgets for the month when Dwight appeared, taking a seat beside you. You did your best to ignore him, closing your eyes and counting in your head, trying to add up totals from the months before to guesstimate how to split your money.

"You have yet to receive a gift." He said, and the numbers in your head scrambled themselves up. You let out a sigh, and opened your eyes, looking over at the odd man beside you.

"I don't do Valentine's Day." You said with a strained smile, and looked up as Pam walked towards the kitchen, but seeing Dwight sat at your side she mouthed a 'Sorry' and turned quickly, heading over to Jim's desk to fill him in.

"Yes you do. The past three years you have received and given gifts." Dwight corrected, and you looked back at him.

"Wha- why do you know that? I wasn't even here last Valentine's Day."

"You still got a card." Dwight informed, and you raised an eyebrow. You hadn't been told about that at all.

"And where did it go?" You asked, and Dwight coughed.

"Well, you didn't claim the mail within the 28 days, so I gave it to Pam to shred." Dwight said, and you groaned, collecting your things.

"Dwight, if I wasn't present to see the card on my desk, how would I know I have one? And why are you bringing it up a year later?" You asked as your stood up.

"Well, I needed your help on gift picking, however with this new information, I'll talk to Pam." Dwight decided, and you nodded.

"Yeah, please! And don't shred my mail, maybe?" You suggested, marching out of the kitchen, rubbing the side of your temple. As you sat yourself back down, Jim smirked.

"Dwight really stresses you out." Jim commented, tossing you over a card. You rolled your eyes, opening it up.

Poker Game tonight at my place? Got some friends coming over, and I plan to take every penny I can. Jim xx

"How romantic, Halpert." You rolled your eyes, but you read it over again, hitting the card against your hand a few times as you thought. "Maybe. Trying to weigh out the options of getting laid or getting paid."

"Gatorade, always." Jim responded, just as seriously, and you cracked your first smile of the day. "Ah! There she is." He winked, and leaned over to dial a customer back. You knew what he was doing. The past few weeks had been nothing but Pam planning her wedding, and he needed a distraction. He had even phoned up Brenda, the girl from corporate that you had hooked up with, and gone on a date with her. You both agreed afterwards she was a bit too much to handle.

"Fine. I can help you set up." You agreed, and Jim held a thumbs up to you, and you quickly walked over to Pam.

Her usual cheery disposition was replaced with a face not unlike yours, and you pouted.

"You can't join the dark side, Pam. The trio needs a Valentine's Day fanatic or we'll be thrown off balance." You popped on of the sweets in your mouth, and she sighed.

"I've just had to sit here all day, watching Phyllis collect a garden and accompanying petting zoo without so much as a rose from Roy." She sighed, and you reached over, squeezing her hand.

"Maybe you'll get a secret admirer?" You wiggled your eyebrows, and she laughed a little. "Right, I've made you smile, my job is done. Three hours left Pam, then we can flee this place." You promised her, heading back to your seat and opening up your email, sending a quick message to Jim:

You need to be Pam's secret admirer... Do you know how to make paper flowers? Xx

You sent it over and picked up your phone as it rang. "Dunder Mifflin, this is Y/N speaking. How can I assist you today?" You nodded and started helping your customer when an email pinged through.

Not a clue... Help me????

You looked up and saw Jim giving you puppy dog eyes. You sighed and nodded in defeat, taking out a piece of paper and beginning to fold it the way Pam had taught you years ago. Jim wrote out a little card to accompany the 'rose' you had managed to make, and you even borrowed Phyllis' new rose perfume to spritz on the paper.

When Pam disappeared for a bathroom break right before the end of the day, you snatched the note from Jim and rushed over, placing the two items onto Pam's keyboard, quickly returning to your seat and starting back on an order confirmation.

The smile on her face when she got back was more than enough to keep you happy for the rest of the day, in spite of Dwight's banging on about being the new boss and the three rejected calls that happened in a row. Pam played with her paper flower until Roy walked in, saying something about 'the best sex of your life', and Pam left with a tired expression and look to you that just said everything.

You finished off an email, and glanced over at Jim. "Ready to go?" You asked, and he nodded, putting down the phone, the pair of you packing up very quickly.

"Where are you two rushing away?" Dwight asked, and if anyone else had said it, it would have come off as funny. But Dwight's face was expressionless, and his tone accusatory. "You realise that if you are in an Office relationship you have to disclose it to HR."

The remaining colleagues glanced over, and you and Jim shared a look before bursting out in laughter.

"Good one, Dwight. Man, didn't think you could be funny." You said through chuckles, pulling on your coat.

"I'm serious."

"Y/N and I have been carpooling for months Dwight. Why is it all of a sudden suspicious?" Jim raised an eyebrow.

"It's Valentine's Day, you are both single."

"Jim is having a poker night, I'm going along to help set up early. Goodnight Dwight." You said, spinning on your heel. The pair of you left the office and made it down to Jim's red Sedan, and you jumped in the front seat.

After a trip to the store to gather a few essentials, you finally turned to Jim in the car, taking a moment before speaking.

"Jim."

"Yes Y/N?" He asked, slowing down as you reached a red light.

"I should have asked earlier, but who is coming along tonight?" You questioned, shuffling through your handbag and lifting out a small black notebook. Jim looked over, and looked again.

"No... Is that..." Jim started, the light switching to green and he started driving again.

"Jim, please?" You begged, and he laughed.

"Why does it matter?" He teased, and you slumped back in your seat.

"Because I've slept with at least six of your friends..." You admitted, and Jim looked over. "Eyes on the road!" You squeaked, and Jim quickly turned his attention back to his driving, turning right and pulling in on a side road.

"Six?!" He said finally, more than surprised. "Last time it was two!" He laughed through his confusion. "I have like ten friends, Y/N. How have you slept with more than half of my social circle?"

—

"This..." you held a book up to the camera, a small black moleskin notebook. "This is The Notebook..." you sighed, and took a deep breath. "So, I want to say first that I don't discuss my romantic escapades with the office, for obvious reasons... And second, that I do not do office romances. Never have, never will. They always end up with awkwardness and rumours and sides and I don't like it... But while I don't sleep with people I work with..." You say the book on your lap and looked up, fidgeting a little. "Look, when I was about a year into my time here, my mom passed away from cancer... And then my cat had to be put down two months later and friends moved away. Overall, it was a terrible time. And, within my grief, I ended up at a bar one night, bumped into Phyllis who was with some family, her nephew Jordan and her sister. We all got talking, and Phyllis left with Jordan's mom and well, long story short, I slept with Phyllis' nephew. And then, a few weeks later, Oscar's cousin who dropped by... And then Toby's brother..." you shivered, and ran a hand through your hair. "And then Jim and Pam joined the office and suddenly there were so many more people who were my age and..."

"I started The Notebook after I slept with two of Pam's friends and three of Jim's, I had started to lose track of everyone. So, in here is every romantic or sexual interaction I have had with anyone who knows people in the office. Hookups, makeouts, drunken kisses, proposed first dates, all of it. And in situations like these, I can remind myself about the people I am re-meeting, and be prepared to answer weird questions." You flicked through it as you spoke. "It keeps everything in order. No chances of repeat hookups, and 99% of the time, the next time I see them we are just friendly. Like... If Pam and Jim are the friend, I'm the benefit." You laughed, slipping the book away. You glanced up at the camera.

"Also, just want to point out Todd Packer is not on the list... Fucking hate that guy."

—

"Come on Jim, please?" You gave him the big puppy dog eyes, and he laughed a little more.

"Only if you tell me whether or not you've slept with them as we go." Jim offered, and you nodded in defeat. "Fine. Tom."

"Yes."

"Okay, Hugh."

"Yep."

"Arnold?"

"I made out with him, but nothing more."

"Right. Ewan?"

"Uh..." You scoured through the notebook. "He asked me out once, but no sex." You clarified, and Jim was watching you with a smirk on his face. "Anybody else?"

"Monica and Stacey too, and Patrick might turn up. And Mark too." Jim finished, and you nodded.

"Mark, yes. Stacey, no, she's straight. Monica, almost, and Patrick, twice." You confirmed, and Jim's eyes widened.

"You slept with my roommate? And Monica?" You Just kept blowing his mind. You giggled.

"Well, you know that barbecue you had like two years ago? I almost slept with Monica but Mark walked in, and then one thing led to another and I ended up sleeping with him... And Patrick..." You smiled when mentioning the last name, and Jim noticed.

"He's been asking about you... How did you end up sleeping with him twice?" Jim asked, smiling as you blushed a little.

"Nothing major... We slept together once before you came to the office, by chance... Then met at your birthday party and... yeah..."

"So, you've slept with almost all of my friends."

"Hey, I've slept with Pam's cousin, you don't get pity here. Family trumps friends." You defended, and Jim let out a chuckle, starting the car back up and finishing the drive to his house. After a few minutes of silence, Jim spoke up.

"It might be too soon, and I don't want to be forward, but Patrick broke up with a long term girlfriend recently, maybe you should try talking with him? He seems to be interested in you." Jim suggested, his eyes flicking over to gauge your reaction. The blush on your cheeks gave him his response, and he pulled into the driveway of his house with a smile on his face. "I know you hate Valentine's Day, but who knows? Maybe this one'll be good."

Tags: @imsuperawkward

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beecherdrysdale · 3 years

Note

Hi bbs, we are back for another part of greece:) also if Quinner and Jamie could come real quick, I need cuddlessss

Brigid I’ve been having constant baby fever after our convos so thank you :) like I just want all of that to happen lol.

Kesh- thank you for your your responses I don’t have much to add, but I loved all of it ! Also yes a red sundress would look gorgeous on you:).

Adding onto some thoughts:

- yes yes yes to the new chains. That photo of Quinner shirtless is on my mind constantly and this will be the look in Greece lol, and now we know that he does have a chain that he wears. It’s a silver chain for me, wbu?.

- beanie stealing will ofc happen. Like softest look ever esp with Jamie.

Now adding onto more thoughts hehe:

-yes to all of these soft moments. Like freckle tracing is just so cuteeeee. and ofc play w his hair cuz it is amazing. I ofc am honorary photo taker of Brigids cute moments with Jamie so lots of photos will be provided.

-hmmmm what if I want too..... like Jamie is down to makeout anywhere lol.

- hehe I’m still laughing, Jamie paying cozzy to sit with you. Hehe cozzy and devon are just vv chill and no action will be happening with them. Just a very quiet flight for those two. Kesh and Kirby are just not available to deal with us yet lol.

- hehe yes dyl better buy you food after the flight bc he’s heavyyyyyy. like I said before Jamie just gives ofc the biggest makeout vibes so ofc you gotta do it on the plane. hehe you gotta make sure that dyl, me, Quinner and Ryan are all occupied so we don’t see that. If dyl does see he’d be like no no no I can’t handle this right now. ‘Ummm Brigid maybe we shouldn’t bother bowen’ so Jamie keeps you calm. Which I love bc it’s so cute how you two help each other.

-hehe why do I see Peyton accidentally hitting dyl in the head while trying to give you a snack and we all quietly laugh bc Dylan’s still passed out and that it was a pretty hard throw.

-hehe yes. Like how is that possible to drink that much coffee and still sleep. Like he passes out 5 mins after take off. Okkk can I just say that I love rope bracelets so Quinner wearing one is just necessary. awww Brigid this made me melt, him pretending to sleep bc he’s enjoying it sm 🥺. hehe yes Quinner saved you with this one brigid bc I fidget a lottttt. ‘Lexi I swear if you kick my chair one more time’ ‘sorry brigid I’ll do something’ and I’m like what does that mean?.

I think we all want to see me slap Ryan awake. And he’s wake up so startled hehe. Yessss clear hair, pretty hair = happy life lol.

First night in Greece:

- I see you brigid, going after but we both know you two are loudddddd hehe. Ok so I see Ryan starting the tag and him tagging Braden and then Braden tags me and we all just start running around. All of us are looking for you and Jamie but we notice that we can’t find you until we notice Jamie’s shirt on the floor. So we all just run away ‘here we go again guys’ ‘hey Peyton I dare you to walk in’ absolutely not does it look like I wanna see that’ ‘guys let’s just give them so privacy’.

- aw a slumber party would just be so fun. ‘I’m sorry what’s the point of hydrating your face lexi?’ ‘ what does that even mean. Wait I’m sorry do you not use moisturizer Ryan?’ all of us just watching movies and bonding. Also pillow fightttttt! It would become very intense.

- ok we must have a girls day in Greece. and yes we have moneyyyyyyy. ‘Wait has anybody seen Brigid?’ ‘Hmm no I haven’t’ and they all just start looking for us and we come back and are like seriously you guys?.

-everybody looks so hot in water so moments will be happening. ya Ryan try us.

Next day:

- Brigid I’m with you here I’m like constantly hungry lol. So we’d just eat a mountain of food. Ooo yess we need some energy after our eventful nights😏.

- ok cliff diving is so fun. hehe Jamie looking terrified but you just grab him and jump. the hype up would involve a lot of slapping imao. haha ok if you’re not marco the entire time. I think I’ll go w dyl bc I wanna bond with him lol. The boys need your help bc swimming is hard. And then Jamie can piggy back you out of the water. And cuddle with you on the beach.

- awww I love this, holding hands while scuba diving. hehe yes I wow you all with my not forgotten guitar skills. ‘Please dyl can I try’ ‘no I’m scared you’re gonna drop my guitar in the water’ ‘I promise I won’t’. Lol this was random. actually a song i know how to play on guitar is Our last summer from mamma mia so we can all sing that :). I love cuddling our bbs on the boat.

- awww I love Jamie finding your wallpaper and him asking that in the most soft voice ever 🥺. And ofc some kisses will be exchanged. vv cute moment all together.

- we’d have the most chaotic moments at night while we are tipsy lol. Like some would try to race up the stairs and fall. Some dare each other to jump over stuff.

-so after dinner we just encounter a live band and see some people dancing and it’s pretty out with lights everywhere. ‘Hey bb wanna dance with me?’ And ofc you agree so you two take off to dance. Aww you tucking you me face into his chest🥺 and he just tightens his grip on your waist. Kesh and Kirby are #couplegoals they are the best dancers out there. hehe ofc Quinner is slow, but then he realizes that he wants to dance like that as well so he asks me to dance and we have a cute dance as well.

Next dayyy:

Hehe yes me and Ryan falling I feel like would be vv funny. It’s just all very sudden. imao you’re a hockey player it’s in your job description.

The chirps that would be happening ‘ hey brigid seems like you had an eventful night and he looks at your small hickey’ ‘ I saw a girl come out of your room this morning Cole. What are you doing trying to go through every girl in Mykonos by the time we leave’

‘I think by the time we leave there won’t be any more girls left.’ -Lexi.

Haha I would (no offence) totally abandon you to go play tennis with a pro. aww thank you for taking the photos. Lol everybody would just be confused on where I went for the afternoon.

Next day: I honestly think that for our final days of Greece we should just all be on the beach lol bc that is mostly what you can do there. Like all of us just bonding, playing volleyball, riding on jet skis, tanning, getting tipsy lol.

So now it’s travel day so we all head to the airport, chaotic as usual. And we are ready to board our flight to the beautiful ITALY 🇮🇹.

Get ready.

Sorry if this was kinda bad.

Enjoyyyyy

‘uhehe ok i’m finally responding, welcome to the last part of greece:) once again a longgggg post

okkk so before we start discussing the trip a couple random things:

yesss ik this was from a couple days ago when lexi and i both really needed cuddles but i’m always down for jamie cuddles, so quinner and jamie better come cuddle us real quick (also kirby better come for kesh)

haha sameeee i’m having such bb fever, i just want a bb jamie🥺

yes kesh ty for your responses i love them :) also you would look so cute in a red sundress

okkk adding on to random thoughts:

yesssss to chains, like that’s so hot. i love the quinner pic with the chain that we found lol. haha same silver chains>>>gold chains

awwww yes i love beanie stealing, it just seems so soft to me that you want to wear their clothes bc it reminds you of them🥺 and also bc it’s comfy lol

adding on to more thoughts lol:

awww yes freckle tracing is so soft, i love it🥰 and i just want to play with his hair, which is somehow amazing even tho he probably uses a 3-in-1. tyyy lexi for being our photo taker lol, i need you to send me the pics so i can put them as my wallpaper

lmaooo why do you feel the need to drag me and jamie into our discussion about you and quinner? it’s ok tho, this is true jamie and i are down to make out anywhere lol. we’ll find somewhere semi-private tho lol bc it’s kind of weird if you’re just making out in the middle of the airport

lmaooo i love that jamie’s literally paying $50 just to sit with me, like that’s kind of a lot of money lol. but then devon and cozzy are just chilling on the flight and just sleeping for most of it so their row is vv quiet. and kesh and kirby are just not at all ready to deal with our chaos this early in the morning lol

yes dylan you better buy me food, i’m hungry af and you’re heavy so i deserve it. hehe yes jamie and i have a little makeout sesh while dyl is asleep bc we know dyl would freak out if he saw lmao. but at this point idc if you and ryan see bc you’ll find a way to chirp us no matter what lmao. ‘ummm brigid let’s let bo sleep’ so he has to grab my hand or put his hand on my leg to stop my fidgeting🥺

lmaoooo dyl getting hit in the head with one of the snacks that was meant for me bc apparently peyton can’t aim. but somehow dyl doesn’t wake up lol

okkk yes quinner is somehow asleep 5 minutes after the plane takes off so lexi starts playing with his hair and his rope bracelet. and then quinner pretends he’s still asleep bc it feels good🥺 but thankfully he wakes up to stop you from fidgeting bc or else i’d end up punching you lmao

hehe yes ryan might get annoyed by you slapping him but it’s fine. and we’ll all be living our best life in greece lol

first nightttttt:

lmao noooo jamie and i are not that loud. hehe yep you guys just start a game of tag and just start sprinting around the hotel. hehe you come to my and jamie’s room looking to tag one of us and then you see jamie’s shirt on the floor and it’s just ‘hey peyton i dare you to go in and tag one of them’ ‘absolutely fucking not i don’t want to say that’ and then kesh is like ‘all right, let’s just give them privacy’ lmaooo

yessss a slumber party!! ‘what’s hydrating your face? like what does that even mean?’ ‘ummm do you not use moisturizer ryan? how is your face not completely dry?’ hehe yes we would watch a bunch of movies and stuff, but then we would have an epic pillow fight and i would be beating everyone up lmao

hehe yessss girls day in greece! and we have money so we can buy whatever we want

lmaoooo everyone looking for jamie and i and peyton finds us ‘ahhhh my eyes!!’ ‘seriously guys? again?’ hehe we would all be having hot water moments tho

next day:

haha we eat like the entire breakfast buffet at the hotel bc there are so many of us and everyone else at the restaurant is just like where’d the food go? hehe we need it for sustenance tho to make up for all the calories we burned😏

hehe yeah cliff diving is so fun, i have to pull jamie in with me before he backs out bc he’s scared lol. lmaoooo you and ryan and quinner have the best hype up before you jump. and then once everyone’s in we’re playing marco polo and i’m just destroying bc im good at swimming lol. haha then we have to send you and dyl to find the way back up while i help the boys swim lol. awww yes i love jamie piggybacking me out of the water and then cuddling with me on the beach🥰

awwww yes hand holding while scuba diving is the cutest. and then while we’re on the boat you can resuscitate your guitar skills for us ‘pleaseeee dyl i want to try’ ‘no you’re gonna drop it in’ ‘nooo i promise i won’t, just let me try please?’ so then he does and you wow us with your skills and we all sing along. and we’re just cuddling our bbs on the boat🥺

yesssss omg jamie just going to do something on my phone and then he sees i change my wallpaper and in the softest voice ‘i’m your wallpaper?’🥺🥰 and i’m like ‘yeah is that ok?’ and he’s just like ‘ofc’ and then soft kisses

lmaoooo yes we’re the most chaotic people ever when we’re tipsy. lol we’re all racing each other and daring each other to do stuff

awwww yes we see a live band so jamie asks me to dance ‘hey bb, come dance with me?’ in the softest voice, and ofc i say yes and i tuck my face in his chest while we dance🥺 and he just pulls me closer. and then kirby and kesh are somehow just amazing at dancing and perfectly in sync bc they’re like the perfect couple sooo. and quinner is just a bit slow on the uptake, but then he eventually asks you to dance and then you guys just have a cute slow dance and you’re playing with the little baby hairs at the back of his head if you know what i’m talking about

next dayyyyyyy:

lmaooo you and ryan falling down the stairs would be so funny, like one minute you’re walking and the next you’re just tumbling down the stairs. ‘you’re a hockey player it’s in your job description’ love that lol

lol the chirps that are happening ‘hey brigid and jamie looks like you had an eventful night’ ‘shut uppp cole, i saw another girl coming out of your room this morning? what, are you trying to get through every girl in mykonos before we leave?’ lexi: ‘i think by the time we leave there aren’t gonna be any girls left’

hehe yes lexi dips to go play tennis with the pros, but kesh and i come find you and we take photos for you

rest of the days:

we’re on the beach alllll the time, doing whatever, like volleyball, jet skis, tanning, just swimming, etc. and ofc getting tipsy

hehe our travel day is soooo chaotic again, but we somehow get our flight on time to go to italy

overall, i love all of this, it was amazing

#ask answered #anon answered #skating anon

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dakotacrisis · 4 years

Text

Deal’s End (11)

The deal ends.

(Read on AO3)

---

Marinette was floating through a haze the week leading up to the fashion show. She was excited to go and had butterflies in her stomach just thinking about it. It also gave her an excuse to wear the dress she had been designing. With it though was a countdown. One week left before Felix left and never returned.

At first Marinette had been in denial about the whole thing. There was no proof that Adrien was going to expect anything more than a first date out of this. It could be so much longer before he ever asked Marinette to be his girlfriend. That was until Nino let slip to Alya that Adrien was all in a tizzy about this upcoming show for...Marinette related reasons. He really was going to ask her to be his girlfriend.

Why wasn’t she excited for it then? She had made a deal with a demon for this! She should be happy!

She wasn’t though.

That night where she broke down in tears about how she didn’t want him to go only proved that she was not in a headspace to be anyone’s girlfriend. At least not while she was so hung up on her demonic roommate.

To try and cope she put more distance between her and Felix. No more casual lounging on each other. No more games together. No more walking to class together with his arm around her. He had stopped coming to breakfast. He had even stopped asking for eclairs. Most of the time they sat in complete silence.

It felt like he was already gone.

In turn she had been spending a lot more time with Adrien. She had fun when they went out and more than once she found herself flirting back with him but it felt more like a game of teases then a relationship. Was she leading him on?

No! She liked Adrien! She was going on a date with Adrien! She wanted this! She asked for this!

The day of the show was upon them and Marinette was getting dressed. The silver dress she had been working on was finished. She stepped out from behind the screen with white heels and a matching metallic silver clutch. She decided to let her hair down for the event and did her make up a little nicer than usual.

She turned to Felix who was silently watching her from across the room.

“So,” she did a little spin, “How do I look?”

His eyes roamed over her. The first smile she had seen in a week quirked up on his face. “You look beautiful.”

“Felix,” she walked over to him, “I know I have no right to ask this of you but could you come tonight? Adrien is in the show so I’ll be sitting by myself and while you’d be invisible I’d feel more comfortable with someone I know near me.”

“If that’s what you’d like.” He nodded. “I’ll stay by you.”

“Thanks.”

There was a knock on the door downstairs. “Marinette,” Her mom called up, “Adrien is here. You need to get going.”

“Coming.” Marinette turned to Felix. “Here we go.”

She went downstairs and greeted Adrien at the door. “Wow,” He took her in, “You look incredible.”

“Thanks.” she blushed under the compliment. “You look good too.”

“Thanks. Shall we go?” He held out an arm for her.

“Yep.” Marinette waved to her parents. “See you later tonight.”

They walked out to the car and started heading for the show. Felix followed unseen by Adrien. They got to the venue and Adrien showed her to her seat before running off to get ready. Marinette was impressed that he had managed to get her a front row seat. She was only the guest of one of the models. She would have thought she’d be a row or two back. It was probably because it was his dad’s show she was able to squeeze in up here.

“Now this place is certainly fancy.” Felix gazed around at the venue.

“Yeah. I wonder if I’ll be able to have a show of my own here one day.”

“I have no doubt of that.” Felix started strutting up and down the catwalk making Marinette laugh to which the people around her gave her weird looks.

Soon enough the rest of the venue filled and Marinette was trying not to freak out at all the high profile names and celebrities she spotted. She saw Jagged Stone a couple seats down from her and waved. The show started and Marinette forgot about everything as she gawked at the models strutting down the runway. The outfits they wore were amazing as usual.

She recognized the yellow dress she had worn for the photoshoot on one of the models. Memories of that day filtering back to her and making her smile all the more.

The male models started filtering out and Marinette spotted Adrien among them. Upon passing her he shot her a subtle wink. “Dork.” Marinette murmured. As he was passing back by her she stuck her tongue out at him and she could tell he was fighting off the urge to laugh.

The rest of the show concluded and everyone got up to stretch. “That was certainly interesting.” Felix shrugged. “I’m glad you let me tag along.”

“Me too.” Marinette made her way to the backstage entrance and waited outside for Adrien.

“Hi, there you are.” Adrien finally came out back in his clothes from before. “I wanted to give you a backstage pass but father said I had already asked enough by requesting you in the first row. I hope you weren’t bored out here.”

“It’s fine. Besides, I was more than happy to only have front row.”

“I take it you liked the show.”

“I loved it!”

“I’m glad.” he laced her hand with his. “The after party officially doesn’t start for another half hour but I am starving. So hows about we go sneak in and steal some hors d'oeuvres?”

“I can get on board with that.” Marinette followed Adrien to the room where the party was being held. It was all set up and a few people were already milling about but the majority still lingered out in the hall.

They found the food table and started piling plates high before slotting themselves into a far corner to eat. “The only thing that could make this better is if we had some macarons from your parents shop.” Adrien said.

“What I could really go for is something to wash this down with.” Marinette chomped down on another mini quiche.

“Good point. You stay here and guard the snacks. I’m gonna grab us some drinks.” Adrien got up and made his way back to the refreshments.

“You have that boy wrapped around your little finger.” Felix stole a handful of hors d'oeuvres off Adrien’s plate. “And it is all because of me.”

“I mean you helped but I took action into my own hands often enough, mister.” Marinette scoffed.

“Oh please, you could barely say two words to him before I forced you to.” Felix reached for another handful of hors d'oeuvres this time off of Marinette’s plate.

“Hey!” she smacked his hand away. “These are mine.”

“Greedy.” Felix pouted.

“Piggy.” Marinette turned his nose up. “Who’s a little piggy?”

Felix made a loud snorting sound that had Marinette doubled over laughing.

“What’s so funny?” Adrien came back with two drinks.

“Oh um, it was nothing. I remembered something funny.” She took the drink.

The party started in earnest and after a couple speeches and a toast to the show everyone was free to move around again. Adrien kept his arm linked with Marinette’s as they went around the room talking to people. He introduced her to a lot of other designers and big names in the industry. All the while he was quick to show off her outfit to anyone and everyone. Boasting about how she had designed and constructed it herself.

Marinette was getting a bit winded by all the attention and asked Adrien if they could take a break from people for a while. They got another drink before they took to the dance floor where a couple other people were dancing.

“Are you having a good time?” Adrien asked.

“Yes. Tonight has been wonderful.” She said. “I think you’re showing me off a bit too much though.”

“I could never.” He gave her a little spin. “I’m just very eager for everyone to know how talented my date is.”

“You are a flatterer if nothing else.”

“Adrien,” Nathalie tapped him on the shoulder, “Sorry to interrupt but your father requires your presence for a few minutes.”

“I’ll be right there.” Adrien led Marinette back off the dance floor. “Sorry about this. I’ll be right back.”

“Don’t worry. I can take care of myself for ten minutes.” Marinette assured him. Adrien disappeared back into the crowd. Marinette stuck off to the sidelines to catch her breath. This night was taking a lot out of her.

“CAN YOU FEEL THE LOVE TONIGHT!” Felix came up behind her again singing loudly and off-key for only her to hear.

“They have music playing. You don’t need to add your own.” she gave a small tug on his ear. “I haven’t seen you for a while. What trouble have you been causing?”

“You think that I was off causing mischief?” Felix scoffed. “How dare you accuse me of such juvenile behaviour, good lady!”

“Backing up toilets in the men’s bathroom?”

“It’s just so funny watching them panic.”

She hadn’t noticed it before but Felix was dressed once again in the red suit he had been wearing when she first summoned him. “And you are such an idiot.” She leaned against the wall and stared at the ceiling.

"Where is mister perfect anyway?" Felix muttered, taking a sip of her punch.

"With his dad talking about something or another."

"Soon you'll be missus perfect, if the night goes as planned."

"And if it doesn't?" She asked, "If I told him I was only interested in being friends?"

Felix sighed and looked down at her, "You can't avoid the inevitable because you want me to stay. You're gonna have to move on, love."

"Doesn't mean it'll be easy."

"Nothing in life ever is." He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, "Well maybe some things are. But you hardly get a choice in the matter then."

“Felix,” Marinette grabbed his arm. “Can you do something for me before you leave?”

“What’s that?”

“Become visible for a few minutes?”

“Why?”

“Cause I don’t want people to think I’m dancing with a figment of my imagination.”

This had caught him off guard. “You want to dance with me?” He pointed lamely to himself.

“You do know how to dance, don’t you?” Marinette gave another small tug on his arm.

“I’m afraid I don’t. Not a whole lot of use for it.” He stayed annoyingly rooted to his spot.

“It’s not complicated. Stop being such a scaredy cat.” A new song came on over the speakers. Slower than before. She dragged Felix out onto the floor. She placed his hands on her hips and looped her arms around his neck. “All you have to do is hold me and sway. Sound simple enough?”

“I think I can manage that.” He relaxed as they started to sway to the music.

You're in my arms

And all the world is calm

The music playing on for only two

So close together

And when I'm with you

So close to feeling alive

“I know I shouldn’t say it but I’m gonna miss you, Felix.” She told him.

“I’m gonna miss you too, Marinette.” His arms got a little tighter around her. “It’s been fun.”

A life goes by

Romantic dreams must die

So I bid my goodbye

And never knew

“Well, it became more fun after you stopped pestering me at every possible moment.” Marinette chuckled.

“And when you stopped being so hostile and started seeing me for the debonair gentleman I am.” He winked at her.

“This is probably our last night together so I’m gonna let you believe that gentleman line.” She rolled her eyes.

So close, was waiting

Waiting here with you

And now, forever, I know

All that I wanted

To hold you so close

“I almost forgot to mention. As a final thank you for everything there is a box of red velvet raspberry chocolate eclairs in the fridge for you back home.”

“You magnificent woman, I swear I don’t think I’ve ever been more attracted to you.” Felix dropped his head to her shoulder which made her laugh. She rested her head on his chest.

So close to reaching

That famous happy end

Almost believing

This one's not pretend

“Really though,” Marinette played with the ends of his hair at the back of his neck. “Things may have started rough but I like you. You’re a good friend and I wish you could stick around.”

And now you're beside me

And look how far we've come

So far we are, so close

“You don’t understand what I would give to stay here with you, love.” he whispered.

Oh how could I face the faceless days

If I should lose you now

“Would you give your soul?” Her voice was barely audible above the music. He picked his head up and stared at her with those beautiful silver eyes.

“I would give you everything.”

We're so close to reaching

That famous happy end

Almost believing

This one's not pretend

“Felix, I--”

“Don’t say it.” he begged. “If I can ask one last favor of you. Let it be you don’t finish that sentence. Whatever it may be.”

Let's go on dreaming

For we know we are

“As you wish.”

So close, so close

And still so far

The song ended but neither had yet to let go. “I should go.” Felixed heaved a large sigh, “Before mister perfect sees me dancing with his girl.”

“Goodbye, Felix.”

He brought her hand up to his face and kissed it. “Goodbye, Marinette.”

And with that he disappeared in the blink of an eye. She stood stock still on the dance floor staring at the spot he had once occupied. The start of a livelier song snapped her out of her trance and she scurried to the bathroom and locked herself in one of the stalls. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry! She chanted in her head.

It was a good twenty minutes before she had calmed down enough to leave the stall. She fixed herself up in the mirror as best she could before returning to the party.

“There you are.” Adrien found her. “I’ve been looking for you. Hey, are you alright?”

“Yes. I just...I don’t feel too well is all.”

“Do you want to go home? I’d hate to keep you here if you’re feeling sick.”

“Would you mind? I’m afraid I won’t be very good company in the state I am now.”

“Of course. Come on,” he took her by the hand. He quickly explained to his father that he was taking Marinette home before they left the party.

The drive back Marinette was too emotionally exhausted to do anything more than sit there. They pulled up to her house and Adrien walked her to the door. “I’m sorry for cutting things short.” She said, “I had a lot of fun tonight and the show was great.”

“You don’t need to apologize. I was glad to spend time with you anyway I could.” He took her hand in his. “I would like to spend more time together.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He stepped closer, “Would you consider at all a second date? As my girlfriend? Possibly?”

Even with her heart cracked and her feelings every which way he could still make her smile. He really was the sweetest. Maybe it was because she was vulnerable. Maybe it was because Felix was now gone. Maybe it was because she knew that she needed to move on. Maybe it was because she did genuinely like Adrien that she ended up saying yes.

“I would like that.” Marinette nodded.

“Great!” Adrien let out a breath of relief. “I’d kiss you goodnight but if you are sick…”

“I get it.” Marinette hugged him a little tighter than maybe she should have. In that moment it was what she needed though. She needed someone. “Have a nice night, Adrien.”

“You too.” Adrien hugged her back. “Sweet dreams and I hope you feel better.”

Despite the warning he did leave a small peck on her cheek before racing back to his car. A small spring in his step. Marinette walked into the apartment. Her first stop was the fridge. The box of eclairs was gone and in its place was a note.

Thank you, love, for everything.

-Felix

She clutched the note to her chest and sunk down to the ground in front of the refrigerator. It was the final thread snapping between her and Felix. His presence that had always lingered around her was gone. He was gone. And he took more than five years of her life with him.

---

(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (12)

---

(tagged)

@sannsibarr @miss-mysterys-blog @maribug-adrienoir @mermaidreject @corabeth11 @goblinwhoships @symwinter @dreaming-being @yourgeekysister

#miraculous ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #felix #felinette #demon au #writing

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mosylufanfic · 4 years

Text

5 Times They Ate Alone (and one time they didn't)

A giftfic for @thatkillervibe, because she turned in her thesis! Wooooooo!

5 Times They Ate Alone (and one time they didn't)

1. Friday Night

His phone pinged with a text and Cisco looked up, blinking, from his video game. He pulled it out of his pocket, went to open the text, and accidentally answered a call that started coming in that moment. Wincing, because nobody called except telemarketers, he said, "Yes?"

"Cisco Ramon?" said a brisk female voice.

Gearing himself up to turn down an extended car warranty or something, he said, "Yes, but - "

"Hi, this is the front desk of Star House," the female voice went on. "You have a food delivery."

"I - a what?"

"A food delivery," she said. "Please come get it."

"Uh, yeah, I'm on my way."

She hung up and left him blinking at the screen. He tapped the text and confirmed that his burrito was on the premises, which left him even more confused.

First of all, Kevin usually had the evening shift at the front desk, and second of all, he'd never called even once for a food delivery. Usually he lifted a lazy hand and said "'Sup," as Cisco came to meet the delivery people, if he looked away from his tablet at all.

Shaking his head, Cisco headed down to the lobby to collect his food.

"Cisco?" the delivery guy said, unzipping his insulated bag. "Carne asada burrito, chips and guac, and an orange Fanta?"

"Yep," he said, taking the fragrant paper bag and the sweating cup from him. "Thanks."

"Have a good day," the delivery guy said, and disappeared to his next quest to bring deliciousness to people who didn't want to leave their house.

Cisco set his food on the desk and paused to look at the attendant. She was a cute white girl with a reddish-chestnut ponytail and a giant chemistry book spread out in front of her. She looked vaguely familiar.

She sensed his gaze and looked up. "Yes? Can I help you?"

"You're not Kevin," he said.

"No," she said. "He went home for the long weekend. I picked up his shifts. And some others."

His mood brightened. Everyone he knew had gone home until Monday or Tuesday. Definitely everyone on his floor. Somehow this was the holiday weekend every freshman went home for. "So you're staying on campus the whole weekend, too?"

"Yes," she said.

"Cisco," he said, offering his hand.

"I know," she said, not taking it.

He cocked his head. "And your name is?"

She tapped her name tag. It read Caitlin.

"Cool," he said. "Nice to know I'm not going to be all alone in this mausoleum."

"You're not," she said. "There are at least five other people still here."

In a dorm with six floors, that actually wasn't that many. "Well, I haven't seen them," he said, peering at her book. "Hey, is that the Chem 201 book? Who do you have?"

"Professor McGee," she said, "and so do you. You're in my lecture."

"I am?" No wonder she looked familiar. Although it was a giant lecture, at least three hundred students. "Huh, no way. What are you working on?"

"Studying for the test."

He went rigid with alarm - test oh shit what test - but whipped out his phone and checked his calendar. "Geez," he said, wilting against the desk. "Don't freak me out like that. The test isn't until Friday."

"I know," she said. "I really need to study."

"Uh, that's a literal week away. Like, today is Friday, and the test is in seven whole entire days. You don't need to be studying on a holiday weekend."

"I do if I don't want to get a B," she said.

From her tone, a B was apocalyptic. The end of the world. Dishonor on her, dishonor on her cow.

"Um," he said. "Ever heard how C's get degrees?"

"They don't get me into med school."

Damn, this chick was hard-core.

"Okay," he said. "I'm just saying maybe you could afford to relax a little, in the first semester of freshman year."

Very pointedly, she turned a page and started writing out an equation.

"Right," he said. "Studying. Got it."

On his way back up, he wondered if she'd had any dinner. He ate a chip and shook his head. She was fine, probably.

2. Saturday Afternoon

But the solitude got to him again by lunchtime the next day. Even though he was happy not to have to battle anybody for the showers, the empty halls were more than a little eerie. In his short time at CCU, he'd gotten used to voices and laughter and yelling outside his door. Texting people and getting random, scattershot answers as they all replied in between whatever fun things they were doing at home really wasn't a substitute for human contact.

His roommate had predicted this when he'd announced his intention of staying, but Cisco had laughed and waved it off.

"Video games and takeout all day and night," he crowed.

Yeah, that had seemed like fun at the time.

When his phone rang, he grabbed it. “Hey!”

“This is the front - “

“Hi, Caitlin. My food here?”

“Yes, please come -“

“On my way.” He loped down the hall. Even though Caitlin seemed to hate him for no reason, she was at least another human face.

The pizza guy was trying to flirt with her, if the way he was leaning on the desk was any indication. She had her head bent over her textbook again, scowling. Cisco felt his mood lift. Clearly it wasn't personal, she just didn't like anybody.

He stood there for a good thirty seconds before pointedly clearing his throat. “Pepperoni and mushroom?” he said loudly.

"Oh," the pizza guy said, looking around. "Oh, yeah. And a two-liter of Cherry Coke." He handed it over, the credit card slip on top, and leaned on the desk again with a smooth smile. "Hey, you know, there's always free pies at work. I could go and get one and bring it back. What do you like?"

Dude, Cisco thought as he signed the slip, seriously? That was some lame-ass flirting.

"I'm really very busy," Caitlin said.

"Oh, yeah, you look busy. You should take a break. Rest your brain." He grinned again.

Caitlin stared at her textbook. Now that Cisco was really looking, he noticed her eyes weren't moving and her pen was still. She was just waiting for the guy to go away.

If waiting was even the right word. More like enduring. Suffering.

The pizza guy didn't seem to want to move. When his eyes flickered over and a frown crossed his forehead, Cisco realized he was waiting, too - for him to leave. So he could continue with his awful, unwelcome flirting.

Well, all right then.

Cisco set his pizza box down on the counter and opened it all the way up. Then he opened the two-liter and waited for the fizz to die down before lifting it to his lips and swigging straight from the bottle, eyes directly on Pizza Creep.

Who turned away and said, "I get a lot of perks from this gig. It's pretty sweet. One time I delivered a bunch of pies and they paid me a hundred dollars to go pick up a keg. I'm twenty-one, so I can do that. You want me to pick you up something? Wine coolers?"

"There's no drinking in this dorm," Caitlin said.

Cisco almost choked on his second swig of Coke. If she believed that, she either didn't live here or she never looked up from her chem book.

Her eyes flicked over to him, with something almost like a smile in them. Then she glanced back at the pizza guy and looked fixedly down at her book.

"I'm off at six," Pizza Creep said. "We should go out."

Cisco picked up a slice of pizza, folded it in half, and stuck it in his mouth. "Mmmmmm," he said, loud and obnoxious through his mouthful. "Goo' pi'a."

Pizza Creep looked up. "Dude? Do you mind?"

"Not at all," Cisco said, and took another bite. "You go right ahead." He swigged again, carbonation buzzing in the back of his throat. He swallowed it down as hard as he could and took another swig.

Pizza Creep looked away. "Anyway, I could come back here, pick you up . . . We could go to a club. What do you think?" He reached over the desk to trail his finger over her wrist. She pulled her hand away. "Bet you look real cute in clubbing clothes."

Cisco let out a burp that rattled the window panes. Pizza Creep said, "Jesus, dude!"

Caitlin pressed her hand to her mouth, and her shoulders started shaking. For a bad moment Cisco thought she was crying, because some pizza creep was hitting on her and some mannerless freshman had just basically burped right in her face -

But then the giggles spilled out around her hand, and her face was squished up all cute and dimples were digging themselves into her cheeks.

Pizza Creep said, "God. Fine." He pushed himself away from the desk. "Didn't really even want to go out with you. Ice cold bitch." He grabbed his pizza sleeve and stormed out the front door as Caitlin wound down.

When she had stopped gasping for breath, Cisco said, "Sorry about the burping and the talking with my mouth full and you know. I was trying to drive him off."

"Thank you," she said. "I've, um, I've never been rescued in quite that way before."

"Eighteen years as a little brother," he said. "Annoying people is my superpower." He closed the Cherry Coke and started to pull the lid over the pizza. He paused. "Want a slice?"

She shook her head. "I had lunch already."

"Really? What?"

"A sandwich."

"Okay," he said. "Well, I might have a slice or two left so if you get hungry, you can call me." He glanced at her book. Chem again. "Or if you need someone to shuffle flashcards or something."

Her smile died away and she looked at him sternly.

"Whoa," he said. "I'm not trying to flirt like Pizza Creep there. I'm just - my roommate went home, and all my friends went home, and actually video games all by myself are kind of boring after the third or fourth hour in a row. Just saying, it'd be nice to hang out. You know. Break up the monotony."

Her stern expression softened. "I'm working until ten," she said. "But thanks."

She bent over her book again, clearly very ready to get back to work, and he accepted the gentle brush-off. He stuck his soda under his armpit like a football, balanced the pizza box on the other arm, and headed back to his room.

Still, he reflected as he waited for the elevator, she was awfully cute when she laughed.

3. Saturday Night

Around five-thirty, he went past the front desk and found it empty. He stood blinking, feeling more than a little dismayed.

"Hello?" he called out.

From the communal kitchen, he heard a gasp before she came scrambling out. "Sorry!" she said. "Sorry. I just stepped away and - sorry. How can I help you?"

"Chill," he said. "It's fine. I just wanted to say hi."

"Oh," she said. "Hi."

"Hi," he said again. "So, what are you studying tonight? Still chem? My offer of flashcard wrangler stands."

"No, it's European History right now. An essay."

"Let me guess, due in November?"

"Due on Thursday."

"I'm not in that class with you too, am I?"

She smiled. Oh, look at that, still cute. "No, you're not."

"Oh good, because I definitely would be failing, on account of not going even once. So what's your essay?"

"The role of trade routes between urban centers in the spread of the bubonic plague."

He blinked. "Oh, great. Light-hearted and fluffy, I see."

"There are actually a lot of parallels to current pandemic models," she said. "It's very interesting from a public health standpoint."

"Well, cool. Sounds like fun."

"It is." She tugged her shirt straight and brushed at a flyaway hair. "Are you waiting for another food delivery?"

"No, I was actually gonna go and get something."

"Everything on campus is closed," she said.

"Not the Grille. Right?"

"Well, no, but they close in - " She glanced at the time. "About an hour."

"More than enough time." He gave her a little salute. "You want me to bring you anything?"

She shook her head. "I'm fine."

He squinted at her. "You eat, right?"

"Yes, but I have food here." Off in the kitchen, the microwave beeped.

"Oh no," he said. "Really? Some sad little cheapass microwave meal that you're going to eat over your bubonic plague research?"

"It's fine," she said. "It's Easy Mac."

He made a pained face. "Easy Mac is for two in the morning when everything's closed or 'I haven't eaten in eight hours and am legit going to pass out before I can walk to the buffet.' Not for a meal. This is the whole reason they give us meal plans." He waved his student ID.

"I got it at the convenience store last week. With my meal plan dollars."

"You were ripped off," he said. "Okay, look, are you on some kind of weird ass diet? Paleo or whole thirty or whatever the latest excuse for not enjoying food is?"

"No," she said. "I am really, seriously fine with my Easy Mac and you should go before they start to close down all the food stations."

He glanced at the time and conceded her point. "Okay," he said, heading out the door. "Just saying. You have my number. Shoot me a text if you change your mind. I can bring back french fries or a tuna sandwich or you know, whatever."

"I won't," she called after him. "But thank you!"

4. Sunday Afternoon

Cisco took yesterday's pizza down to the kitchen. He could have stuck it in the microwave in his room, yeah, but this was a chance to get out of his room and stretch his legs.

Also maybe to hang out and talk to Caitlin again.

When he got there, she was riffling through her stacks of paper and textbooks, a frown digging between her brows.

"Hey," he said, setting his plate down. "Everything okay?"

"I thought I had it . . ." she mumbled.

"What?"

"My sociology book. Ugh!" She kept looking.

He went to put his pizza in the microwave and came back. She'd moved everything from one side of the desk to the other and looked completely frazzled.

"It's probably in your room," he said.

"I know it is, I was working on the readings last night. I must not have put it in my bag. Ugh." She pushed her hair out of her eyes. "I wanted to finish that. Now my whole study schedule is going to be off."

"Run up and get it," he suggested. "You live here, right?"

"Of course I do, I just - I can't leave the desk for that long."

He looked around the empty lobby, shading his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, I can see how you're super-busy."

She wrinkled her nose at him.

The microwave beeped and he went to retrieve his food. When he came back, she was grumpily rearranging all the books again, pouting at a color-coded piece of paper that was clearly her totaled study schedule.

"Look," he said, flapping his hand over the hot pizza to cool it down. "Why don't I watch the desk for you? Just for five minutes. Go get your text, get your homework done, and stop fretting."

"I'm not fretting," she said indignantly.

"You're fretting all over the place. I'm capable of holding down this fort. Go."

She bit her lip, looked at her schedule again, and got up. "Okay, just - if anyone comes in, ask them for their student ID, and if they don't live here, you have to ask them who they're visiting and call that person. Same for food delivery, except they're not allowed to just go wandering around the halls, the person has to come get it. The numbers are in this binder here, and if the mail comes - oh, wait, it's Sunday. No mail. Okay." She tucked her hair behind her ears. "Okay, I'll be right back."

"Okay," he said, plopping himself in her chair. "I'll be here."

She rushed off toward the elevators.

He chewed on his reheated pizza and surveyed the back of the desk. It was covered in all the little notes and shorthand of a desk that several people shared. Notes of people not to let in - apparently, 542 had a nasty ex. Hours and locations of things on campus. A schedule, Caitlin's name in every block from noon on Friday.

He opened the binder. The first page was clearly the workers, because it had another copy of the schedule and a list of phone numbers and room numbers. He noted Caitlin's - 401. Whoa. She'd been one floor up for two months. He could have just gone up the stairs. Why had they never met?

Well, they'd met now.

He considered the phone number, then shut the binder. Taking note of a girl's room, that was one thing. Taking their phone number without their knowledge was something else.

The crust of the pizza was all gross and tough from being reheated. He tried gnawing at it for a moment, then decided it was too nasty and threw it away. It landed on top of a paper plate with a few crumbs and a corner of dried-up bread crust. She must have had another sandwich for lunch.

The elevator dinged, and he dropped her study schedule on top of her stack of books. She came out with the wayward soc book tucked under her arm. "Thanks," she said. "How was it?"

"So busy," he said, vacating the seat. "So, so busy. I'm dying. I don't know how you do it."

She wrinkled her nose at him again and settled in, but didn't move to open the textbook. "I know you think I'm silly, but I really planned to get some work done this weekend. Maybe work ahead and buy myself some breathing room mid-semester."

"Is that why you stayed? To study?"

She looked away. "Not really."

He was quiet, leaving space open for her to talk.

"I didn't want to go home," she said. "I know most people did, to see their friends and - I just didn't."

"Not even your parents?"

"My mom works a lot."

She didn't mention her dad, he noticed.

"So there's nobody at home that I want to see," she finished up.

He raised his brows. When she didn't go on, he said, "Nobody from high school? Nobody you want to reunite with? Nobody you want to tell all about your adventures at college?"

She played with her study schedule, folding the corner over. "I've never been a social kind of person," she said. "And after senior year - no, nobody."

He studied here. There was a story there, in that cut-off phrase. "What happened?" he said gently. "Senior year."

She folded her schedule again, and a third time. Just when he thought she wasn't going to answer, she said, "I had a boyfriend."

"Many people do."

"His name was Hunter," she went on. "He was popular and cute and smart and I couldn't believe it when we started dating. He made me feel so special. And his friends were so nice. I'd never had a group of friends before. He was sweet and kind and just, just perfect."

"Sounds like a prince," Cisco contributed, wondering how this story ended.

"He was," she said. "I thought. But the other thing about him was that he lied. He lied about everything. His ex and his car and where he was when I texted and even his grades."

"Ooo," Cisco said. "Not so princely."

"Nuh-uh. Sometimes I think he lied just because he could. And when I figured out he was lying, he would even lie about that! He would look me in the eyes and tell me that I must have lost my homework when I'd seen him take it off my desk before he left my house." She heaved a sigh. "And when I got tired of that and broke up with him, he - "

"Let me guess," Cisco said. "He started lying about you."

"It turned out that all my new friends weren't really my friends, they were his. And people who didn't care about me one way or the other, before, they were all happy to believe I was a crazy bitch who made up stories when I got dumped. So." She smoothed her schedule out. "I'm really not that excited about going home."

"I get that." He folded his arms on the top of the desk and rested his chin on them. "Hunter's a moron. You know that, right?"

"He cheated in every class," she said. "Every single one."

It made him smile a little. She sounded so indignant. "Well, yeah, there's that. But I mean, he was a moron to treat a girl like you that way. You didn't deserve that, not from him or his friends."

She smiled a little. "Thanks. I've made friends here, you know," she added. "My roommate and some others. They're just all gone for the weekend."

"Except me," he said.

She blinked up at him. "Right," she said. "Except you."

He gave the desk a little knock. "Well, I won't disrupt your study schedule anymore, but you know where to find me if you need a break."

5. Sunday Night

When Cisco put in the order, he didn't wait for it to arrive, but took himself downstairs almost right away.

"Hey,” he called out, and Caitlin’s head popped up, a smile brightening her face.

“Hi!”

He grinned. “Listen, is it okay with you if I hook up my console to the TV in the rec room? I could play in my room but it's, you know. Lonely."

"I'm fine with that," she said, getting up to hold the door. "What are you playing?"

"Not sure. I finished two big games so far this weekend, so maybe something quick and fun."

She leaned in the doorway, watching him set up. He glanced at her. “Wanna play? Study break.”

She played with the strings on her shirt. “I’m kind of studied out,” she admitted.

He clutched his heart. “Quick, check the weather, I want to see where the pigs are flying.”

She made a face at him.

“If you're too tired to study, you really need to play something.” His screen popped up and he handed her a controller.

(Okay, yeah he might have been planning this offer. Sue him.)

“The desk,” she said, not very forcefully.

“If you sit right there at the end of the couch, you can see it,” he said. “Ever played Mario Kart?”

She tilted her head, then reached for the second controller.

"I'll take it easy on you," he said. "Promise."

"Thank you, I appreciate that," she said, and wiped the floor with him.

“Oh my god!" he wailed as her car careened over the finish line a full lap ahead of him. "I’ve been hustled. You hustler.”

“I never said I hadn’t played before,” she said. “You assumed.”

“And I made an ass out of myself,” he said. "But seriously, you don't strike me as the gamer girl type."

"Video games have been shown to increase hand-eye coordination and hone problem-solving skills." She flexed her fingers. "My roommate has this game. It really is excellent stress relief."

He grinned. “Okay, enough chivalry. I get to reclaim my honor now.”

“You can try,” she said demurely, folding her legs under her.

They'd done eight races - six of which Caitlin had won - before his stomach growled and he realized his food was really taking a long time. "Hang on, hang on," he said, setting his controller down and picking up his phone. What he saw made him groan. "Oh, shit!"

"What?"

He stared mournfully at the app. "I forgot to hit the submit button. I never sent the order in." He checked something and groaned. "And they're closed already."

"Can you order from somewhere else?"

"I guess, I'll just have to wait longer." His stomach growled again. "And I ate all the rest of my pizza earlier." He pouted.

"That's terrible," she said innocently. "If only you had a friend who had some microwaveable food in her room."

He clasped his hands under his chin and hit her with puppy eyes. "Pleeeeeease can I have some Easy Mac?"

"Mmmm, I don't know, you did make fun of it."

"No, no, no," he said. "Late at night? Everything closed? On the brink of starvation? This is exactly the situation that calls for Easy Mac."

She laughed. "Keep an eye on the desk for a minute?"

"You got it. You're the best."

She was back down with the plastic bowl within a few minutes. He thought of hugging her or kissing her cheek, but they were barely friends. He didn't know how she'd react, and the last thing he wanted was to scare her off. So he just said, "Thank you so much, you're awesome,” he told her as they went over to the kitchen.

"It's Easy Mac," she said, blushing a little. "Three-fifty at the convenience store."

"Still a ripoff," he said, following the directions on the side and popping it in the microwave. "You didn't get one for you?"

"I ate before you came downstairs."

He got an orange soda from the vending machine while it cooked. The pasta was a little crunchy because he hadn't put enough water in, but it tasted like a feast. He settled back into his spot on the couch and chowed down.

She sat with him, idly flipping through the different characters on the screen. "Can I ask you something?" she said very tentatively.

"Sure, shoot."

"I told you why I stayed, this weekend. But why did you?"

He stirred the pasta a few times to break up a big lump of powder. She waited.

Finally,he said, "My brother had a concert."

"Oh," she said. "Um - you didn't want to see it?"

"I've seen so many of my brother's concerts," he said. "And this one was in San Fran. Some young prodigy series. Isn't there an upper limit on when somebody's considered a young prodigy? Like, if you're old enough to drink, doesn't that DQ you from prodigy-hood? Like, I'd think."

"So, you didn't want to go to San Francisco."

"Not if it meant hanging around a hotel room while he got photographed and went to practices and my mom was being all stage-mommy." He shrugged. "I’ve done that. Got the t-shirt. I’m over it.”

“You couldn’t just go home? See your friends?”

“My pop said I would throw a party and destroy the house, so no, I couldn’t. Which, heh, I may have done once or twice in high school, so he's not totally defaming my character there."

She didn’t laughed. "You didn't this weekend. Here."

"Everybody I know went home." He stirred his pasta again. "And I'm not . . . mad about it anymore."

She raised her eyebrows, reminding him that he'd opted to stay at school and play video games alone in his room for three days straight rather than go to San Francisco.

"I'm not as mad," he corrected himself. "My brother and his music - it was such a thing at home, you know? Like it ate up all the air in my house. But here, it's just like . . . whatever. That's them. That's just the way things are. I don't have to like it." He shrugged again and set the macaroni bowl down, scraped clean. "Could be worse."

"Well," she said. "I'm glad you stayed."

"Me too," he said. "Who knows how long it would have taken us to meet if I hadn't."

She picked up her controller and gave him a sweet smile. "So what are we up to? Best out of thirteen?"

"Hooo-hoo, she's talking smack! Now you're asking for it." He grabbed for his own controller. "No more Mr. Nice Guy."

+1. Monday Afternoon

Cisco walked down to the lobby, practicing. "Hey," he said, casual, flirty, "so I was thinking - " He almost swallowed the next word at the sight of the person behind the desk.

Who was . . . not Caitlin.

"Sup," Kevin said, looking up from his tablet.

"Hey, man," Cisco said. "Uh, where's Caitlin?"

"Who?"

"Caitlin? The girl who was here all weekend? Where you're sitting right now?"

Kevin squinted into the middle distance. Cisco could practically smell the smoke as his brain tried to get into gear. "Oh," he said. "The chick. Yeah, she went back to her room, I think." He looked back at his TV show.

"Oh." Cisco considered that. He'd been intending to hang out with her here. But if she wasn't on duty, maybe that would be better.

Or maybe it would be worse. Maybe when she wasn't stuck at a desk, she wouldn't talk to him at all.

But they'd hung out and played video games and laughed and talked for hours last night, even after she closed up the desk and put out a little sign that said she'd return at eight in the morning.

Welp. Nothing to do but try. He gave Kevin a little salute. "See you later, man."

"Yup."

He rested against the rail in the elevator, watching the numbers tick up one floor more than usual. He glanced at his phone, where he'd been having a whole convo with his roommate.

It sounds like she likes you already

I know she does she practically said

But do you think she could LIKE me

more than friends like me

making out like me

It wasn't that he didn't like the idea of being friends. He thought she'd be a good one. But the part of him that had noticed how cute she was had already cast its vote for a making-out kind of relationship, and hopefully more.

Dude I don't KNOW

Just like

invite her for a walk or something

if I ever get to talk to the Mysterious Goddess that's how I'll start

Cisco put his phone away with a grunt. Barry was full of ideas for what he'd do if he ever managed to find the beautiful girl he sometimes randomly saw in the halls or around campus. Cisco kept telling him that the first step was to walk up and fucking say hi.

The elevator doors opened on the fourth floor with a chirpy ding. The dorm was already starting to feel more normal, with room doors open and somebody laughing and girls walking up and down the hall. He waved and said hi to a couple of the girls that he knew already. How are you, how was your weekend, see you in class.

He found 401, the door closed. He shook his shoulders out. Wooo. Go for it. Faint heart, et cetera. He knocked.

It opened after a moment, Caitlin saying, "Iris? Did you forget your - oh!"

"Hey," he said.

"HI," she said. "I thought you were my roommate. She's supposed to get back soon."

"Nope. I'm me."

"Hi," she said, and blushed.

That was encouraging. He said, "Have you eaten?"

"Not yet."

"Me neither. So, the Riverside is open again."

The buffet cafeteria by the student union was where most people sat down to eat if they had more than ten minutes to grab something. Better yet, it had a row of two-person booths under the south windows, cozy and bright.

"I know," she said.

"And I figured I owe you a meal. So I wondered if you'd wanna come eat lunch." He grinned again. "Unless you already have some Easy Mac."

"No, but I was waiting for Iris to come back."

"Oh," he said, trying to parse that. A gentle brush-off? Or a sacred, unbreakable girl-pact? "Okay. Well, we can rain-check it."

"Actually," she said, and he stopped in the act of taking a step back.

"Yeah?"

"Actually, I'd like that," she said. "Lunch with you. I can catch up with Iris later."

He felt his smile bloom. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," she said. She reached over and grabbed her keys and ID off her desk, and patted her pocket for her phone. "Okay. Let's go."

FINIS

#Caitlin Snow #Cisco Ramon #killervibe #fanfiction #mosylufanfic lives up to her damn name #college AU #the flash

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ghosty-schnibibit · 4 years

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multiple days early taz grad liveblog! ^u^

ngl this took me completely by surprise and i didn't end up listening to it until around ten o'clock, it’s a bit before one in the morning as i’m posting this lol. managed to avoid any spoilers tho!

how's everybody doing in quarantine? i've mainly been playing minecraft and doing relistens of various podcasts, and just generally staying home :P

anyways, on to the episode!

i was not expecting that intro holy shit, this is so meta

as much as i loved the sillier intro i missed the pretty music the last couple episodes, i’m glad trav’s found a way for us to have both

"the offending skeletons" pfff

oh man this sounds so pretty, wow

griffin w h y

well that's terrifying

"your creepy panopticon continues to function" gary serves the eye

yeah who fucking died to make their room available

awww, is fitzroy scared of ghosts?

does firbolg have ghost hunting abilities???

... that's probably just from the spectral cats tho right

"they're steps of the mind" travis what does that even mean

:o!!! fitzroy the cussing boy

um??? fitzroy wtf are you talking about

yay! crepes for my boy! :D

better than i could do lmao

oh great, more creepy buckminster time :|

... dang, that's an interesting choice. i'm trying to think in-character of what would lead fitz to not telling them, and i've come to four main possibilities: a) fitzroy doesn't trust anyone at the school, even his friends, b) fitzroy hasn't found a way to tell them w/o being in the presence of a gary, c) fitzroy is worried that if he tells anyone they might get disappeared like leon, or d) a combination of all of the above.

kumquat? oh it's those little orangey guys, okay, continuing argo's citrus fixation then lol

"my new hero" can't wait to see all the maplekeene fic that comes out of that line lmao

well fuck that's sad :(

aww firbolg my sweet baby

ilu firbolg :')

OH FUCK, did leon send the broach as a message?

i have never gone from laughing to worried so fast holy shit

... so he's not just mind-wiped, he's being actively controlled

good idea fitz, this is very smart

another moment reminding me of how much i love the firbolg's character and how the other boys interact with him

yay! my favorite girl is back :D

my sweet boys, these are such bad puns, absolute morons the lot of you

argo my dipshit son ilu

she is a necromancer lol

oh fun! dad lich!

... i need art of rainer as a blupjeans baby stat

"he's not not dead!" i love this description

i cannot tell if that's a euphemism or if he's insinuating rainer is some kind of frankenstein

oh dang :O

fiztroy you absolute ding dong ilu

oh fun, new npc :D

go firbolg, nice

so leon actually managed to get through to the guild before higglemas did whatever he did to him, and hieronymus and higglemas appear to be on the same page vis-a-vis wanting to keep the guild out of the school... fuck

althea, good to know, i'm so bad at spelling, i was hearing it as alfia

yay! i missed the money zone :D

aww, thank you trav

wait is that the end? does taz just not have ad reads anymore???

hey what the fuck, i am worried for my boys trav you can't just drop that on me apropos of nothing

how trippy for the rest of the staff do you think it was that all of a sudden jackyl's creepy voice suddenly turned into a lilting brogue

argo my sweet boy

IT'S AN ANTI GARY ZONE

... is he going to- yep, he's telling him about the hot mint

argo my sweet boy you are a valued member of the group

"hot mint is nothing new" oh my darling

ilu jackyl

what do you mean not from a person? do they think fitzroy is somehow linked to the demons in the forest?

thank you for that trav i am bad at remembering scenery details

i get what jackyl's saying here but like... there are ways for argo to ask fitz about his magic without being suspicious. they're pretty okay friends at this point, i don't think it's too much of a stretch to bring up magic in conversation like “hey, i have magic from my parents, do you think your magic could have come from yours?”

argo that's kind of a hollow threat, i don't think you can leave, they'd probably kill you :/

ilu argo my sweet boy

yikes, goddamn, the bad roles are back for argo

what was the end of that line clint

NICE, good rolls are back :)

clint you absolute dipshit

it's not boring! i'm very proud of clint getting so many good rolls in a row!

i love this so much lol

ooooh, this is some pretty music

fitz is on supplemental levels of paranoia

i can get that rationale, he can't solve anything if he can't trust his own perceptions

so he's taking a crack at artificing, fun times

this is an extremely good interaction, i am loving this

what does your little high pitched HMMM mean fitzroy? what are you doing my dipshit son???

oh fun, drawf then i'm guessing

green and gold were my university colors trav don't do this to me

fitzroy sounds like me every time i fall down the rabbit hole of metalworking videos on youtube and think “i wanna make a sword!”

... huh. i have to go back and listen to ep. 7, but is crabtree part of the unbroken chain? i'd be more inclined to trust her if so, i don't know if fitz would be safe crafting a mind protecting charm with her if there's even the slightest possibility that she's in on whatever higglemas is doing

fitzroy my dipshit son, you are an absolute dummy, you are the worst

griffin you planned an entire campaign around magical items

i don't like the sound of that "oh!"

oh this has gone just about as bad as it could have gone

that is absolutely not going to happen

nice thinking griffin, holy cow

not a fan of the foreshadowing implications of that

precision is certainly something fitzroy doesn't have

yes thank you for not doing that griffin

this is probably a bad idea and i am worried for firbolg

"let the wiki show, your honor" i want to check the wiki now to see if anyone’s added that lol

jesus that's a creepy feeling

griffin you have no right to make me cry like this

justin you've murdered me

welp, this is extremely bad :|

what are you doing fitzroy, what is the end game here fitzroy

okay, okay that's a good idea but this music is very terrifying

maybe also talk about what's going on with buckminster please, i am so worried about leon

i am at odds with myself because i adore the friendship development that's going on here, but i'm also so worried for literally all of them and poor argo is being left out

oh nice, very excited to see how that goes next ep

thank you for lifting the mood some griffin lol

clint you've killed me

oh i am so looking forward to this conversation

so a lot went down this episode, huh? compared to how lighthearted and silly the last two episodes were we got a ton of plot development, and in retrospect i’m glad we had an emotional buffer before things got too hairy. i am very worried for my boys, i personally think travis is nailing the build-up of suspense and mistrust between characters while keeping the danger factor mysterious enough that there’s no obvious solution as to who’s right not to trust who. i can’t wait to head into the tag and see the kinds of theories people are coming up with because dang if i don’t have some thoughts.

see you guys whenever the next ep comes out i guess!

#taz #taz graduation #the adventure zone #taz spoilers #ghosty liveblogs taz #it's late enough at night i debated posting this now and just queueing it for tomorrow #but i really wanted to throw my thoughts out before i went to bed bc holy shit this ep

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derryhawkins · 4 years

Text

Life is a Highway [3/49]

summary: The seven of them made a plan in middle school: use the months between high school and college, and take a road trip through all of the states. Their twelve year old minds didn’t think it would actually happen, but six years later with enough saved up money, they’re going on an extremely long trip together in a large van. pairings: reddie; benverly; hanbrough; stanpat chap word count: 6.5k a/n: hopefully i remembered everyone who wanted to be tagged! if i didn’t/if you want to be added to the taglist just send me an ask x

AO3 Link | Prev. Chap

chapter three: rhode island

Ben wakes up half on the row of seats and half off, arm and leg hanging off and onto the floorboard of the van. A body is pressing against his own a little bit. He turns his head a little bit to see the back of Mike’s head. Mike is still asleep, laying on his side as he’s squished between Ben and the backrest of the seats, and they’re sharing Ben’s pillow, making them awfully close. At first Ben feels bad, but Mike doesn’t look uncomfortable so Ben just turns his head back around and stares at the back of the row of seats in front of him.

It’s day three of the road trip. After Salem, they spent one more night in Massive Two Shits, and then drove to Rhode Island early in the morning. It was a calm drive. Not very lively, actually, since they were all still half asleep during it. Yesterday, after getting into Rhode Island, they didn’t do much. There was a cliff walk thingy they decided to do, and after seeing they could go to the beach, they went shopping for swimsuits for whoever didn’t bring anyway (AKA Richie, Mike, and Bill) along with sunscreen and towels. They didn’t go to the beach though, because by the time they wanted to all the public ones were closed. So, that’s what they’re doing today. That is, if anyone else can wake up.

Ben turns and lifts his head to look out the window. The sun isn’t too high up in the sky, meaning it’s still early in the morning. The inside of the van is filled with sounds of sleeping. Bill’s loud snores that they’ve all gotten used to, Eddie’s occasional sleep talk, Mike’s soft snores (Ben didn’t even realize he snores until this trip), and Richie’s random hums of content (nothing sexual, thank God). Last night, no one really wanted to find a hotel or motel to stay in, so they found a safe place to park the van and got situated there. Mike and Ben got one of the middle rows, and Eddie and Bev got the first row – they’re in no doubt a similar position to him and Mike – while Richie took the floorboard in front of it. Bill leaned back the driver’s seat almost all the way, and Stan did the same with the passenger’s seat; the two of them fell asleep there, everyone with their own pillows and blankets – except for Ben and Mike, who somehow ended up sharing a pillow.

Some minutes later, Ben slides onto the floor and just lays there for a moment or two before carefully sitting up. He then grabs his wad of clothes from under the seats and carefully and slowly slips on the shorts he wore the day before. He then grabs his shoes and the shirt, and made sure his wallet is in his shorts’ pockets before standing up and getting out of the van as quietly as possible. Ben rubs at his face and runs his hands through his hair after putting on the shoes and shirt outside, only to freeze as the van door slides open again to reveal Eddie, half asleep with wild hair but fully dressed. They both just stare for a moment.

“Uh. Morning?” He winces as it came out as a question and not a greeting, but Eddie doesn’t seem to notice. He grunts in response and rubs at his eyes. “How’d you sleep?”

“Terrible,” Eddie mutters. “Not because of any of you guys, but just…” He doesn’t finish his sentence, and sighs. “Sorry, I don’t feel like talking about it right now.”

Ben nods. “That’s alright, man.” He guesses that it has something to do with his mom, or maybe he’s homesick; either way, he doesn’t push into it. “You can sleep on the beach later – I’ll make sure you’ll wake up from time to time to put on sunscreen.”

A smile – albeit a tired one that doesn’t reach his ears – forms. “Thanks, Ben. Where’re you going?”

He motions down the road vaguely. “To the gas station for some coffee. Wanna come with?” Eddie gives him a grimace, and he doesn’t need to say a thing for Ben to know what he’s thinking. “It’s good!” Ben promises. “Nothing like hotel coffee, I swear.” Still, Eddie stares at him with the grimace expression. “You don’t have to get any.”

Eddie then looks offended. “Of course I’m getting some!” He whispered-shouts, glancing shortly at the van, and they both know that if he had been any louder he would’ve woken some of the others. “But if I get some disease because of you-.”

Ben’s hands move up in mock surrender. “Eddie, if you get sick from the gas station coffee, I give you permission to do anything you want to me.”

Instantly, they both freeze, both thinking how wrong that sounded, and it doesn’t help that an amused snort comes from inside the van. Eddie rolls his eyes, and Ben shakes his head as the shorter boy tells Richie to shut up. Then, the two are off to the gas station. They’re both still mildly half asleep so the conversation is minimal, but the company is appreciated – at least on Ben’s side. He likes spending time with Eddie – even though he can be too much sometimes, but in certain degrees, that can go for any one of them – and, unfortunately, the two haven’t spent one-on-one time together in a while.

It’s not until they’re in the gas station and making seven coffees when they really talk again, just so they can make sure they’re making everything okay enough for the others.

“Bill likes a lot of creamer, right?”

“Yeah, the weirdo.”

“I literally just watched you dump a shit ton of sugar in your coffee, Eddie.”

“Okay, and? Wait- does Stan like coffee?”

“Black.”

“Great, okay.”

“Richie likes is black, too, yeah?”

“Yeah, but with some sugar. No creamer.”

“Mike?”

“Honestly, he drinks anything. Bev likes hers strong, right?”

“Yep, with only a little bit of creamer, and some sugar.”

When they’re done and are standing with seven cups of coffee on the counter in front of them, they hi-five, proud of themselves. Eddie then grabs a pen out of his fanny pack – which Ben doesn’t even notice until then – and he puts everyone’s initials on the lids. Ben pays for all of them, mutters a sorry to the cashier as he does so, and then thanks the employee after it’s all done. On the walk back to the van, Eddie carries three and Ben carries four with ease.

They got there only to see everyone else already up and about. The two slow down as they get closer, matching expressions of confusion on their faces because usually it takes a lot for everyone to be up at the same time this early. Sure, it’s not extremely early, or anything, but the chances of everyone getting up at the same time is slim. Their confusion quickly morphs into amusement as the Piña Colada song meets their ears.

Richie and Bill are on top of the van, loudly singing along. The two are barely even dressed for the day; Richie is wearing one of his Hawaiian shirts, unbuttoned, with a loose pair of old gym shorts he slept in, and Bill is just in boxer shorts and socks, a baseball cap backwards on his head. Mike is trying to take a picture with Bill’s camera, but both Richie and Bill are moving too fast to get a good one. Beverly is sitting on the edge and dodges one of Richie’s legs, and then Stan is standing a little ways away, arms crossed and trying to not look amused. No one is dressed properly, Ben realizes, as he looks at his friends. Everyone minus him and Eddie are still in what they slept in. He glances around at the few morning runners, and gives a sorry smile as one in particular glares at them.

“Yes, I like Piña Coladas!” Richie belts out along with the van’s radio and slings an arm around Bill’s shoulders. “And getting caught in the rain!”

Bill laughs and leans into Richie. “I’m not much into health food, I am into champagne!” He puts an arm around Richie’s waist, and they sing loudly – correction: terribly – through the rest of the chorus together.

“I’ve got to meet you by tomorrow noon, and cut through all this red tape—.”

“How long were we gone?” Ben leans down to speak to Eddie, neither taking their eyes off of their, quite frankly, embarrassing friends.

Eddie shakes his head. “Like… Forty minutes? What the fuck. They could’ve changed – Bill could’ve put on clothes!”

“Bill streaked through one of the high school’s football games,” Stan states as he walks up. “I’m honestly not surprised by him being half naked in public.”

Ben holds out the four coffees he’s holding and lets Stan take his, and then Beverly is sliding down the van and rushes to them, grinning as she goes to Ben as well, taking her own coffee after looking at the initials. “Wasn’t that for a dare?” He asks Stan. “By you?”

Stan hides his smirk behind the coffee while he takes a sip.

“—and we laughed for a moment, and I said, ‘I never knew’—.”

Beverly giggles as she holds her coffee. “I think we shouldn’t give them their coffee,” she says, and the three of them watch as Richie dramatically sings a song about piña coladas while dancing terribly, and as Bill does everything equally as bad without a care in the world about being in just boxer shorts and socks. Ben honestly wonders how a cop hasn’t walked up yet and taken them in for public indecency.

“They’ll be worn out by the end of the day because of the sun,” Ben says.

It’s said in hope, though. Nothing has really ever stopped the duo on the van from doing chaotic, obnoxious, stupid things before – and Bev knows that, too. So when she gives him a look of disbelief, silently saying she doubts that’ll happen, Ben can’t argue with her. Not that he would argue with Bev, anyway.

Mike walks up, then, with an amused smile. Eddie hands him his coffee, to which Mike takes with a thanks, which then prompts Bev and Stan to thank the boys as well since they had forgotten to earlier. “Should we stop them?” He asks.

“Hey, eyesores!” Stan shouts above the playing music and singing. Richie and Bill stop almost instantly. “Ben and Eddie brought coffee, and if you want some before I throw it away, I suggest you stop embarrassing yourselves.” A pause. “And put some fucking clothes on, Bill.”

Ben watches as Bill looks down at himself. Blue eyes grow wide, and suddenly he’s sliding off of the van and diving into it, shutting the door behind him. Richie gets off and comes over next.

“You could have invited me to come with, y’know,” Richie says as a thanks when he takes the cup from Eddie. “I was awake, too.”

“We know,” is all Eddie replies with. The words quickly start their daily routine of bickering, and Ben steps away from them.

He takes a sip of his own coffee as Mike takes Bill’s from his other hand. Mike and Stan begin to talk, sipping their coffees, and soon enough Bill is joining them – fully dressed now with the cap still backwards on his head – and he takes his cup from Mike, the two sharing smiles.

Ben turns to Bev and motions to her coffee with his own. “How is it?”

“It’s good, actually,” she says. “I never expected gas station coffee to be this good. And you made it perfectly. Thanks.”

He sheepishly shrugs. “Ah, it’s nothing, just some coffee.”

“Maybe but I’m still thanking you for it. Hey, are you ready for the beach today? I know that, uh…” Bev trails off and paused for a short moment, clearly figuring out the right words to say. “You’ve said something before, a few times, about not being body confident and I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”

Warmth spreads through his chest. He knows that the others know about him being self conscious and all, but for some reason he hadn’t been expecting anyone to bring it up. To make sure he feels comfortable. Let alone that person being Bev. But at the same time, it makes sense that she’s the one making sure he’s alright. She did the same thing with Stan and his route when they decided to go to Salem.

Ben feels himself fall a little.

“I’ll be fine,” he assures her with a smile. “Most likely I’ll just wear a shirt that I don’t care too much about with my swim trunks.”

The thing is, Ben knows he’s not fat like he had been as a child. Overweight and chunky. He actually used to be fine with his weight until middle school came around, and that’s when the self consciousness came into play. And at first he wasn’t even going to lose weight. Eventually he did, most for himself but also to spite the bullies, and the fact that he did track helped out; as did eating healthier. Now, he’s still got some fat on him. He doesn’t have a ‘perfect’ male body, that’s for sure – the only one closest to that is Mike – but he’s got descent muscle and all, and he’s at a healthy weight that fluctuates. Still, he feels insecure sometimes. Not as often and not as much as he did in his early teen years, but it’s still there.

Bev looks up at him and nods. “I figured. Just wanna make sure you’re comfortable – and I’m sure the others do too.”

“Hey, if I wasn’t comfortable, I would have asked if we could do something else.”

She raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “Ben, honey, you ate oysters last year because you couldn’t say no to Mr. Denbrough. You hate oysters.”

Ignoring the term of endearment – mentally, at least, because physically, his cheeks turn red – Ben winces.

“You puked after.”

“A lot can change in a year,” he defends himself poorly, because he knows that Bev knows that he wouldn’t have suggested a different place if he wasn’t comfortable with the beach.

Bev just gives him a tiny smile and squeezes his upper arm. “You’re a sweetheart, Ben,” she says quietly. “But maybe learn to say no?” Her nose scrunches up at the suggestion.

He chuckles. “I’ll try,” he promises. “Also, I swear I’m comfortable with the beach.”

“I know, I believe you. I just care about you.” There’s a small pause, and her cheeks turn the slightest pink. “We all do,” she adds quickly.

“Bev!” Eddie calls, now by the van, waving to get her attention. They both look at him. “Can you help me find my old Thundercats shirt?”

Bev smiles and nods. “Be there in a second!”

“I’ll help too—.”

A chorus of, “No, Richie,” is heard from Eddie, Bev, and Bill. Richie gapes at them and dramatically huffs, eliciting a small laugh from Ben.

+++

“Kowabunga, dudes!”

From behind the group, Richie dashes forward, yelling in pure excitement. Bill is right after him, and so is Bev. All three run down the wooden ramp and take off their flip flops to run easier through the sand to get to the chairs and two umbrellas they rented – and they weren’t too expensive, thank God. And before Stan knows it, Eddie is chasing after the three of them as well, equally excited, but pushing that away for the time being to make sure they put on sunscreen; they have, everyone has. Stan watches them and cracks a smile as Bill faceplants into the sand right behind their chairs. He can hear Bev’s laughter mix with Richie’s almost instantly, and Eddie freezes where he is before laughing as well. A few groups of families and friends look their way, amused at Bill as well, before moving on with their lives.

Mike chuckles beside Stan as they get off the ramp. Behind them, Ben carries a backpack that was carefully packed earlier with some sandwiches, water, and fruit.

Stan steps into the sand and slips off the flip flops with ease. He grimaces a bit. He isn’t fond of sand – it gets everywhere so easily – but he can tolerate it enough to enjoy some time with his friends. By the time he gets to the four chairs with Mike and Ben, Bev has chucked off her coverup and hung it over one of the chairs with her towel and is now standing ankle deep. The waves, which are a bit rough but nothing huge, crash onto the shore and her ankles. Richie isn’t too far behind. He takes off his shirt with ease and lets it fall on the sand by his crumpled up towel and flip flops before running to stand with Bev.

Stan carefully puts his towel on the back of one of the chairs that’s directly under one of the two umbrellas. “I can already see Richie trying to go out to the other sandbar and drowning,” he says to Mike, light hazel eyes going over the choppy waters and cloudy sky, anxiety starting to bubble up.

It probably isn’t the best day for a beach trip, but they’re here anyway so they might as well have some fun.

“He won’t drown,” Mike assures.

“We’ve all been to the beach only, like, a handful of times during our eighteen years of living. If at all! What if he doesn’t know about rip currents? How strong are the rip currents today anyway? They get pretty strong, y’know, and—.”

“Stan,” Mike interrupts. He lays a comforting hand on Stan’s shoulder, tilting his head down the littlest bit to see under the umbrella. “It’s Richie. He’s a dumbass but he’s not stupid. Also, Eddie is with them.”

At that, Stan looks back to the shore. Sure enough, Eddie is standing a few feet away in the damp sand with crossed arms. It’s then that Stan notices Eddie’s things in the chair beside his own.

“Y-Yeah, Rich isn’t gonna swim too far with Eddie, especially since Eddie’s never been to the beach,” Bill speaks up.

“All the more reason for him to go to the sandbar,” Stan says. He knows Richie. But so do Bill and Mike. They also know Eddie. If he isn’t doesn’t want to go to the sandbank, they won’t; but if he does… Stan doesn’t think about that. At least, he tries not to. He doesn’t need to become so worrisome so early. “But, really, how strong are the rip currents?”

“They’re there but not too strong,” Ben says from a few feet away. “Only thing we gotta worry about is the possible storm that’s coming in. Heard some locals talking about it.”

All of them make faces of disappointment. “That sucks,” Mike mutters. “Well. Better make the most of it while we can!” And then he’s slipping off his own shirt and racing to the ocean like some sort of model.

Stan stares for a moment. He’s expecting himself to blush deeply and feel the familiar fast beating of his heart and a swarm butterflies in his chest. And he does. Except it’s not as strong as he distinctly remembers it being two days ago. As he slips off his shirt, Stan thinks to himself. Well, he tries to, because those feelings towards Mike certainly aren’t as strong as they had been and—

And then Richie is running up to him.

Stan yells as Richie wraps his arms around him, throwing the boy over his shoulder. Stan tried to push himself away. “Richie, let me go! Rich- Ben! Hey, help me, please! Richie, I am going to drown you!”

Richie laughs. “No you won’t!”

“Sorry, Stan!”

“Richard! I will— .”

Richie lets go and Stan falls into the ocean. As a wave goes passed them, Stan makes a move to his friend but then Eddie is tackling the lanky boy into the water. It’s a familiar sight. Except this time, instead of the green and calm waters of the quarry, it’s in the choppy and blue waters of the ocean. Stan snorts, then stumbles as a weight is on his back, water splashing into his face thanks to Eddie. He spits out the salt water with a look of disgust.

“Sorry, Stan,” Bev laughs in his ear, repeating Ben’s words.

He hummed. “No, you’re not.”

She laughs again and slides off. “You’re right, I’m not. I was trying to knock you over.”

Stan turns and playfully glares at her, paired with his middle finger. “Fuck you.”

“Fuck you!” Bev retaliates with, still smiling.

“Fuck b-both of you!” Bill shouts and does what Bev couldn’t. He knocks Stan over, but brings Bev with them both.

Stan kicks Bill away underwater before popping above the surface again. He’s smiling, though; he’s happy to be with his friends, and he notices that the more fun he’s having the less he’s worried about something going wrong. So, he keeps at it. He jumps with the waves, and they play chicken the best to their abilities. Ben eventually joins them, joining in on the fun.

At some point, Stan ends up holding Richie like a baby. He looks down at his friend with a raised eyebrow. “Why.”

Richie shrugs. He situates his arms and hands around Stan’s neck better. Stan rolls his eyes and lets go, but Richie lets out a small shout and scrambles to wrap himself around Stan like a koala, refusing to touch the ground. Stan stands there with wide eyed, arms spread out. He looks over at their friends. Bev and Bill went to the sandbar. They’re standing over there, pushing each other around like everyone had been earlier. Ben is with Mike, the two closer to the shore. Eddie is close by, floating on his back as he looks at the clouds.

Stan then looks back at Richie. “What the actual fuck, dude.”

“I am not stepping in the sand,” Richie says hurriedly and quietly.

“What?” Sometimes, Stan doesn’t understand Richie. This is one of those times. But as he recognizes anxiety on his features, Stan lets the judgement go away. “Richie, seriously, you’re making me worry.”

“Okay. Don’t freak out,” Richie starts.

Stan tenses up. “Oh, my God, there’s a shark, isn’t there?”

“No! No, if there was, the lifeguard people would’ve told us to get out by now. But…”

“Richie, I swear to fucking—.”

“There is a stingray.”

Stan takes a breath. He’s ready to scream out a ‘what’ but before he can, Richie is covering his mouth with one hand and glaring at him. It comes out muffled.

“I said not to freak out,” he hisses.

Stan bats Richie’s hand away. “Not freak out?” He repeats. “About a fucking stin—?”

“I don’t want Eddie to find out,” Richie rushes out in a whisper and motions to his crush. “He’s having fun.”

And, that’s true. Eddie’s not simply floating and looking at the clouds anymore. Instead, he’s just swimming around with Mike, and diving into the bigger waves to avoid them crashing on him. Stan sighs and looks at Richie.

“And, like, stingrays aren’t that dangerous, we just can’t step on them. But he won’t listen to that, he’ll just freak out, and I don’t want that.”

“Then why tell me? Why even bring it up?”

“Because I think I just discovered a new fear.”

Stan bites his tongue and tries not to laugh. He really tried to hold it in, but the laughter bubbles out anyway. Richie’s frowning, almost pouting, and it just causes Stan to laugh harder. “I’m- shit, I’m sorry, but. Richie. Seriously?”

“It’s rational!” He defends himself.

“I know! But this is so ironic. You’re basically doing what you don’t want Eddie to do.”

“...No I’m not.”

“Then get down.”

“No.”

“Fine.”

“Wha- Ah!”

Stan cuts Richie off by shoving him off and into the water. In an instant, Stan is swimming away as fast as he can. Richie yells at him but Stan ignores it, and jumps behind Mike.

“Mike, move!”

Mike doesn’t move. He stands there, thoroughly confused. “Why?”

Eddie looks between them all, amused. Dark hair flat on his forehead, the ends curly slightly now that whatever product he puts in has been washed out thanks to the ocean water. No one says anything as Richie lunges to jump over Mike. He fails terribly. He doesn’t even get over Mike; his arms and chin land awkwardly on his left shoulder as Mike catches him, and Stan swims backwards a little bit.

“Dude, what’s going on?” Mike asks with a laugh.

“He shoved me into the water!”

“We’ve been doing that, Rich,” Eddie says. “Idiot.”

Richie moves away from Mike and huffs. He grumbles something none of them can hear and fixes his glasses – something that everyone is very surprised that he hasn’t lost yet.

It doesn’t take long at all for Richie to get distracted by Eddie. Stan looks around. The clouds are darkening the slightest bit, but other than that the weather hasn’t exactly changed. He then looks in the water. Richie’s comment about there being a stingray makes him wonder if being in the water is a danger. He doesn’t say anything about it, though, especially with Eddie close by. He truly is having fun, and other than a rant on the way to the beach about the different germs that could possibly be in the ocean, Eddie hasn’t freaked out much over anything. So, Stan just stands a bit straighter, which catches Mike’s attention.

“Are you leaving me?” Mike asks, feigning a pout.

Stan glances away from his face for a moment. Yeah, his crush is still there, alright; the feelings just aren’t as strong as they have been. “I’m getting too pruney,” Stan says, rather than mention the anxiety Richie accidentally planted in his head about the oceanic wildlife. He lifts his hands out of the water as if to show a point.

Mike nods. “Alright. I’ll herd everyone in to get something to eat in a few.”

Stan gives him a small smile. Then, he’s going to shore and he makes his way to the chairs, careful not to get too much sand on him on the walk back. He grabs his towel once he’s there and wraps it around himself. Ben is sitting in one of the chairs that’s out in the sun, flipping through one of Bev’s fashion magazines extra carefully so he doesn’t ruin the pages. Stan doesn’t want to abandon his friends – you’re not abandoning them, the rational part of his brain chastises, barely heard over the thoughts diving into what might happen if someone got stung by a stingray – but at least Ben is with him.

+++

Two hours later – after eating some snacks and drinking water and putting more sunscreen on – a few of the Losers go back into the water while the rest stay by the rental chairs and umbrellas. Eddie is passed out in the sun as he lays on his stomach, his towel between his body and the sand, and Bev sits in the chair beside him, sunglasses over her eyes as she soaks in the sun. Stan lays under one of the umbrellas, the chair leaning all the way back, with a towel over his head and face as he sleeps too. Then there are Bill, Ben, Mike, and Richie. The four of them went back in the water the moment they were able to, and went back to the sandbar once Stan fell asleep, and now they’re back, looking for seashells and sand dollars blindly since they don’t have goggles.

Bill sucks in a deep breath of air and squeezes his eyes shut before diving back into the water. Blindly, he digs around in the sand as long as he can, staying under water until his lungs are burning for oxygen. He pops above the surface with a gasp of air and shakes his head as if he were a dog. Ben comes up a second later, doing the same thing, but pushes his hair from his forehead unlike Bill.

“Anything?” Richie asks, glasses gone. Mike made sure he left the glasses with the others, and the three boys take turns making sure the boy doesn’t do anything stupid or harmful with his blurry sight.

“It’s hard,” Ben says with a shake of his head. He lifted up a severely broken seashell. “Without any goggles, we aren’t gonna find anything good.”

Bill frowns and takes the broken seashell from Ben. “I mean, it’s still pretty,” he tries.

Richie rolls his eyes. “We’re missing three-fourths of it, dude.”

“How can you tell? You’re fucking blind without your glasses!”

“Billiam, I can still see shapes, you dumbass.”

“Oh, right.”

They all laugh.

None of them stay in the water for too long after that. Bill quickly notes the darkening sky and clouds, but doesn’t say anything about it. He knows everyone else can see it, as well as the locals who are starting to leave despite the day not being over at all. They soon get to their other friends again, and they take their towels from where they left them and start to dry off.

Bill turns to where Richie stands. He’s about to ask if they have any other plans for the day, but stops as he realizes the teen is staring intently at something. Bill moves to stand beside him and follows Richie’s line of sight. Two girls around their age stand not so far away, holding hands, smiling. It’s clear that they’re together romantically and Bill can’t help but be surprised that they’re being even the slightest couple-y out in the open like this. He hears Richie sigh, so he looks back at his friend and watches as Richie fosses his towel on his head, attempting to dry his wild mess of hair.

“You okay, bro?” Bill asks.

Richie shrugs. He lifts his head, the towel only allowing the other to see the bottom half of his face. His lips curl into a goofy smile. “Never better, Billiam!”

Bill slowly nods. He lays a hand on Richie’s shoulder and squeezes it, a silent touch of comfort. He removes it soon after and goes to step away, to give him some space, but halts as they both notice that a girl is walking their way. The friends share a look once Richie pulls off the towel. He fixes his glasses.

“I saw your staring at that couple,” she says. She has blonde hair and bright green eyes, and she looks less than pleased.

“Uh–.”

“Have something to say about it?”

Richie holds his palms up after setting the towel around his neck. “Whoa, blondie, you got the wrong idea here,” he tells her.

She lifts a brow. “Do I?”

Bill nods. “Y-Yeah! It’s not- we weren’t-.”

“Weren’t what?” Blondie asks. “I know their relationship might not seem okay in the eyes of the majority, but that doesn’t give you a right to stare.”

That takes the boys by surprise. They both quickly start to talk, voices overlapping. Richie tries to explain that he’s not, that he’s very much into boys, but he doesn’t exactly want to out himself to the stranger so not much of anything came out. Bill tries to tell the girl that he doesn’t have a problem with gays and lesbians and bisexuals and everything else, but at the accusation has him stuttering a bit too much.

“What did you two do now?” comes the exasperated question from one of their friends.

Richie perks up and turns. “Eds! Tell this girl we aren’t homophobic!”

Eddie blinks, taken by surprise. “Uh. What? I mean!” His eyes widened dramatically at the girl’s unimpressed look. “I mean, yeah, we- we- none of us are like that. I ho- I think.”

Blondie looks even more unimpressed. “You think?” she asks.

Eddie nervously chuckles. “Yes?”

Bill facepalms.

Richie winces, but he quickly recovers with a sigh and looks to the girl again. “Listen, I’m sorry for staring. I come from a small town, we all do,” he motions vaguely to his friends behind them, not paying too much attention, “so seeing same-sex couples aren’t exactly a norm for us. Just, please, trust us that we’re not like that. I shouldn’t have stared, so. Sorry.”

Bill nods along. “I- It was rude. I’m sorry too,” he says.

The blonde’s brows knit together. “It’s alright,” she eventually tells them. “Mistakes happen. I just know those girls. They’ve been through a lot shit and are finally in a good place. I don’t want anything ruining that.”

Bill smiles. “That’s alright,” he says. His gaze shifts over to Richie, but quickly moves to Eddie instead. His expression is unreadable. “It’s not f-fair how the world s-s-sees same-sex couples,” he says and looked back at the blonde.

Eddie shifts in the sand, arms crossed over his chest as he keeps his gaze down. He mumbles something but none of them catch it.

Blondie nods sadly. “It really isn’t.” She smiles. “I’m Sandy, by the way.”

“I’m Bill.”

“Richie,” the lanky teen introduces himself with a wide grin. “And that’s Eds.”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “Eddie,” he corrects with a small glare to Richie. There is no heat behind the action, and Richie just grins some more. “It’s nice to meet you, Sandy. Sorry about them being dumbasses.”

Sandy laughs. “It’s fine. I’m just glad you’re not homophobic, that it was just a misunderstanding.”

“So… Do you like sand?” Richie asks.

Lightning goes across the sky in the distance right then and it’s followed by a crack of thunder.

“I think the universe wants you to shu- shut up,” Bill teases, making Eddie and Sandy both laugh.

The laughter gets cut off as drops nod rain start to fall. It starts off as slow but then in a blink of an eye, the rain pours down harshly. More lightning goes across the sky, and the thunder is louder this time around. The Losers scramble to gather their belongings.

“Shit,” Bill hears Sandy mutter. She rushes up to the group. “Can you drive me home? I walked here.”

Mike nods instantly. “Of course. Care to help us get our things to the van?”

Sandy nods in return and grabs whatever she can. Then, they all run.

+++

They end up all staying at Sandy’s home. The Losers, after they all made it safely to the van and squished in like a can of sardines, explain to Sandy their road trip and how, right now, they didn’t have a place to stay other than the van. She quickly offered her home, said her parents wouldn’t mind, and so they went.

Richie suddenly wants a hotel room. Sandy’s home isn’t bad. It’s actually rather on the bigger side; there is a second floor, along with a basement, and there’s a balcony on the second floor as well. The living room is huge, there are two guest rooms, they have two TVs, and the kitchen isn’t too small. It’s rather that her parents are two women and after getting over the initial shock and awe and the want to bow down to them, in comes the dreaded panic of his own sexuality.

He knows he’s bisexual. He knows he likes Eddie. He knows boys liking boys isn’t exactly a good thing to a society. He knows seeing Sandy’s moms be affectionate to one another – way more affectionate than the couple he stared at on the beach – has an effect on him he doesn’t expect. All he can think about is him and Eddie, and truthfully Richie wants to combust. The women are so close and loving, and they’re sweet and kind, and the looks they give each other makes Richie realize he might give those looks to Eddie without realizing it, and it…

It’s scary, simply put.

He can handle liking Eddie. He can’t handle the realization that he might be in love with Eddie.

Barb and Diane share a quick peck in the kitchen before Barb walks out. Richie quickly looks away from Diane before she can catch him staring and goes back to eating the pizza.

“You okay?” Ben asks from across the table.

Other than Diane, who is making sure the third dozen pizza doesn’t burn in the oven, they’re the only two in the kitchen. Stan is down in the basement with Sandy, Bill and Beverly, while Eddie is taking a shower, and Mike is currently using the home phone in the hallway to talk to his parents.

Richie nods, but doesn’t say anything.

Ben frowns as he chews. Thankfully, he doesn’t press on the matter.

“Oh, pizza!” Eddie excitedly yells as he enters the kitchen.

Richie whips his head to the entrance of the kitchen. Eddie’s hair is damp, the ends curling since he has yet to put product in it. A few strands still stuck to his forehead. The sun today, despite it being cloudy, Richie realizes, did the shorter boy some good. He’s already tanner. The sun exposure has already caused a few freckles to show up, and his cheeks and nose may be a little pink but they all know it isn’t something to worry about. Eddie always seems to burn slightly before getting really tan; it freaks Sonia out, and for a bit of time Eddie wore long sleeves even during the summer time because his mother worried about him getting skin cancer. Now, he doesn’t.

Richie suddenly stands and picks his plate up. A piece of cheese pizza sits on it, untouched. “There’s no more cheese left,” he explains and hands Eddie his.

Eddie takes it, albeit hesitant. “Did you do something to it…?”

He smirks. “Yes, I replaced the sauce with my spit.”

“Richie!”

“I’m joking! Geez, Eds.” He laughs slightly and messes up Eddie’s hair, earning another shout. Truthfully, Richie reached up to push some hair from Eddie’s face, but decided messing it up is the better way to go. “Go eat so we don’t have to deal with your hangry gremlin side.”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “Stop comparing me to those ugly things.”

“But they’re cute! Just like you!”

“Fuck off,” he mumbles, and gently punches Richie’s arm as he walks by.

Richie rubs the spot with a smile he knows is full of fondness. But it drops as he realizes that Diane is subtly watching them, and he straightens a bit. He clears his throat and leaves the kitchen as quickly as possible without it looking weird. He makes his way to the basement and falls face first into the small couch against the wall, ignoring the short pause in conversation the other four are having as he did so.

“You’re subdued today.”

Richie shrugs but doesn’t move at Stan’s statement.

Stan sighs. He sits on the floor by the couch and when he speaks, it’s low so Sandy and Bev don’t overhear. “Is it about Eddie?”

“I’ve got it bad,” Richie mutters back. He shifts around so he’s looking at his friend. “Like, mega bad. I don’t even think it’s just a crush anymore.”

Stan smiles. “Congratulations,” he whispers, “you finally realized your own feelings.”

“It’s not a good thing.”

The rips Stan’s smile away. “What? Why? I thought seeing her aunts would make things better.”

Richie shrugs. “It does, a little. Still scary.”

Stan pats his friend’s back in comfort. “I’m sorry, Rich.”

“How’s your crush going?” Richie asks after a few moments of silence, but makes sure that he did it quietly so the others can’t hear.

His best friend shrugs. “I think it’s actually starting to go away,” Stan says honestly.

Richie stuffs his face into the cushion again and groans. It just causes Stan to laugh a little, both out of pity and amusement. He pats Richie’s back again and then stands up.

“Alright. Play pool with me, it’ll cheer you up.” When Richie doesn’t move, Stan sighs. “That’s an order, Richard.”

This causes Richie to move. He sits up and smirks, and Stan's previously amused face falls. “Oh, bossy. Just how I like it!”

“Nevermind. Rot into the couch.”

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