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it-was-all-a-beautiful-dream · 3 years

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Silva Lining (Saul Silva x Reader) Chapter 13

Warnings: None

Word count: 1.6k

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It was quiet, too quiet. The voices of your friends and peers had almost disappeared, screams and shouting all but a whisper on the breeze through the spindly trees. You were alone now. At the same time, you weren’t. You could hear the crackling of skin, the rattle as they breathed. The screeches they made as they got close and closer to the opening where you were standing. You knew they could see you, it would only be a matter of time before you could see them too. The bright red core glistening and moving like a flame, inside of their charcoal bodies. Their claws slick with venom, their faces contorted and twisted in pain. You felt no fear. You were oddly calm, sensing that somehow, they couldn’t harm you…. wouldn’t harm you. They moved in closer, branches and dry debris cracking beneath their heavy steps. You could see them now. Shadowy figures creeping out of the darkness and stepping into light. They seemed to regard you with a title of their heads, a look of wonder perhaps? The tallest of them all stepped forward, they were different from the rest.

Taller, much taller, broader. The red core more fierce and prominent. The top of its head almost had horns, that curled round into a kind of crown like shape. It was in front of you now. So close you could feel it’s warm breath fan your face. Your heart stuttered as it screeched out a single word.

“Daughter.”

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You woke with a jolt, your heart pounding, eyes blurry, black swirls of magic surrounding the bed you shared with Saul. Your skin was slick with sweat, a scream escaping your chapped lips. Saul was hovering over you, his hands on either side of your arms, trying to shake you awake from the 3rd nightmare that week. You clung to him desperately as he incased you in his arms. It was still dark out. You’d had a nightmare every night this week so far but you did as you did the other two times, fell back to sleep in your mans arms and were going to ignore it when you woke up.

Morning seemed to come around faster than you wanted it to. You were always too cosy sleeping next to Saul. He was awake and up before you, his teacherly duties leading him away from the confines of your luxurious bed before you had the willpower to peak your eyes open just a fraction.

The morning was met with Bloom complaining again about the treatment of Beatrix. The killer fairy was still in her temporary jail cell, power restricting bracelets still very much around her wrists. You and Aisha shared a look, you rolled your eyes earning a snort from the water fairy and in return a glare from Bloom. She didn’t even know the girl! She thought she now had some sort of weird connection just because she might have been from the same place as her? She seemed to forget that Beatrix did in fact kill Callum to shimmy past Farah’s protective barrier. What she was protecting, you didn’t yet know. You had a feeling Bloom did though.

Stella had filled you in about what was going on back in your old Suit. Bloom was more on edge than ever and had been talking about ways to break the captive fairy free. Was she mad? It was lucky that Aisha and Terra had intervened, otherwise she would have been free by now. They didn’t need the added drama.

Your thoughts were pulled in a different direction as you sat with your friends in the outside courtyard. Aisha, Bloom, Terra and Musa were arguing about how Beatrix getting out would be a bad thing. You and Stella, well you were still just gossiping, catching up as always.

The whispers came all at once. You could see Stella’s mouth moving but you couldn’t actually hear her words, instead your ears were overcome by the whispers of the Burned ones that you knew were outside of the force field. Your eyes could see Specialists running back and forward, something was wrong, the school now seemed to be busy, people were worried and panicked. You noticed Saul off to one side with Farah, Ben and Marco, who…. had been attacked by a burned one by the looks of things. You don’t know what made you stand, but you did, it was like your legs were on autopilot, already aware of your destination even if your brain hadn’t decided yet. Stella kept asking where you were going but it was like you were in a trance. You ignored you friends pushing past them, walking at a steady pace across the grass and in the direction of the woods.

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-Stella’s POV-

Stella was happy to be back at Alfea, even more so now that she knew Y/N was in fact her long lost cousin. Since the beginning she knew she had a special connection with the dark powered fairy, she liked to joke that she was her Yin to her Yang, light and dark.

She’d noticed a difference in her cousins behaviour and well being over the last couple of days. Something that hadn’t gone un-noticed by Silva either, who had in private, asked Stella to keep an eye out for her. Obviously he didn’t have to ask her twice, she naturally felt the need to make sure her cousin was okay anyway. Y/N’s eyes looked heavy, like she hadn’t been sleeping well, it was most likely an effect of the nightmares she’d been having which she’d conveniently forgot to tell anyone she’d been having.

Stella and Y/N finally had some alone time while the other fairies bickered. She frowned as she looked at the girl in front of her, she was completely spaced out. Her eyes had gone black, no white showing at all.

“Y/N, are you okay?” Stella’s hand came to rest on her cousins shoulder and gave it a slight shake. Nothing. It was like she was in a trance. She was even more concerned when her pleas went ignored and Y/N stood up, walking through the girls and towards the edge of the woods. She panicked, she couldn’t go outside the barrier again, it was far too dangerous. Marco had just been attacked and who knew how many Burned Ones there actually were by now. Reports had been coming in that they travelled in groups, it was almost like they were searching for something and she wasn’t about to let her friend be the next victim.

Stella did the only thing she could think of and ran in the direction of Silva and Miss Dowling. Musa and the others ran to Y/N, hoping that someway they’d manage to get through to her before she did something reckless.

The teachers were talking quietly to a few senior Specialists. From what Stella could make out, Laura, Marcos partner, was still somewhere in the woods, fighting off Burned Ones with a broken leg. She had managed to seek shelter in an underground bunker, one like they had used in the woodland training, the only difference was this one wasn’t within the safety of the school and if someone didn’t do something quick, Laura would be dead in a matter of minutes.

“I hate to interrupt but something is really wrong with Y/N.” That got their attention. But then so did the screaming and shouting of Stella’s Suit mates. She looked towards where she had last saw you. But you weren’t there anymore, instead, you were on the other side of the glimmering shield that saved you from harm.

-Your POV-

Somewhere in the back of your mind you could hear the screams and pleading voice of your friends and you were kicking yourself for being where you were, but that was way way in the back of your mind. At the moment, you felt like you didn’t have control at all. Your feet were guiding you. The crackled breath of the Burned Ones could be heard all around you. They were right there, but you couldn’t see them… just like your dream.

Maybe it hadn’t been a dream at all, more like a premonition, for the next thing that happened, basically knocked you out of your magical trance. The largest of them all, King of the Burned Ones, stepped forward, horns upon his head twisted into a crown like shape, red fire seemed to burn in his core. You knew it was your father, or at least a version of the man who helped bring you to life. Something told you deep down.. it was him.

“Daughter, at last we meet.” The giant Burned One came to stand in front of you, you were now surrounded by others.

“What do you want, why are you here?” You were cut off by a snarling sound as shouts from Saul and the others could be heard getting closer.

“We are in a deal with a she Devil called Rosalind, after the deal is complete, we will come for you, so you can fulfil your destiny and sit upon the throne which is rightfully yours.”

“What deal? I’m not going anywhere with you! Why do you keep killing people!” The questions were meant with a gruff laugh.

“Why, because they’ve kept you from me long enough child. Mark my words, once the deal is fulfilled, we will come for you.”

The voices of your loved ones were closer and closer, you turned you head back to see if you could see anyone through the foliage.

When you turned back, your father was right in front of you, his hot breath fanning your face, in seconds, the Burned ones jumped you all at once and you screamed as you felt their talons slice against your flesh.

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Hi please don't hate me lol. I've gone back to work so when I get home I'm always tired atm so trying my best to write and all that <3 It's a little shorter than usual but I hope you still enjoy. As always please let me know what you think in the comments and like/re-blog/commet/follow! xx <3

CHAPTER 14 ----- CLICK HERE

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fandomscombine · 4 years

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The Hargreeves Kerfuffle Part 2: Family Reunion

The Hargreeves siblings x Hargreeves!Reader (Familial Relationship)

BG: The Reader is Number Eight. It follows how you fit into the structure of Season 1 and the family dynamic of the siblings.

This part follows the collapse of The Umbrella Academy during their youth and having the family back together after years apart for the very first time.

I have mashed up the information and some events from both the comics and the tv series. So a heads up for readers who haven’t read the comics, it was hinted in S2 but in the very beginning of the comics, it’s canon that Reginald is indeed an Alien.

The series will consist of 10 parts. Where the reader would have a focused interaction with each sibling. (Eg. After this part, it would be Luther x Reader, then Diego x Reader and so on! –Yes Ben is included)

WC: 4786 (never had I written so much for one part before!)

Contains: Angst. Death- Reginald and Ben (so not exactly a spoiler, but while writing Ben’s scene had my eyes water a bit.) Crap childhood and the Hargreeves being a mess.

A/N: You guys are literally the best! Reading your replies and comments about how much you enjoyed part 1 and are looking forward to the rest of the series, really warms my heart!

>>GENERAL MASTERLIST<<

>>THE HARGREEVES KERFUFFLE SERIES MASTERLIST<<

READ: [PART 1] [PART 3] [PART 4]

>>JOIN MY WRITING CHALLENGE!<<

March 21, 2019.

Never had you thought that you would be back here, looking up the gates of The Umbrella Academy, 13 years later.

There was and still is so much pain associated with this building, this entity, this identity of The Umbrella Academy. That you hadn’t seen it coming- well not exactly completely blind to it. Sir Reginald Hargreeves’ upbringing of children-your siblings, your childhood- had always been shit but you had never come close to imaging it to be as emotionally and mentally damaging as it did.

Children at aged 7 finding out they had powers was great. To a kid, it was a dream come true to be a real-life superhero. It all started out as fun and games but soon, training started to be competitions to outshine your siblings-your competitors whist being told to work together at the same time. It was quite a hard concept to grasp as a young kid, but in order to get any attention and praise from a distant father, a kid would do anything.

By the age of 9, the superhero team of ‘The Umbrella Academy’ was officially announced to the world. The group consisted of the 7 Hargreeves children, publicly known as: Spaceboy, The Kraken, The Rumor, The Séance, The Boy, The Horror, and Foresight.

An 8th child with seemingly no superpower, had been secretly tucked away, hidden from the world and too, distanced away from her own siblings. It was though Vanya Hargreeves didn’t exist.

You did try your best to spend time with Vanya and keep the Sunday sister bonding time with her, but with all your training and missions, combined with all her violin lessons and some other private lessons she often go on with in long periods of time - though she wouldn’t mention what they were- there was absolutely no time to be in each other’s presence, so soon you along with the rest of your siblings slip away from Vanya.

At age 10 was a big year for the Hargreeves siblings, they had kind of successfully protected the city of Paris from the chaos of the Eiffel Tower being a spaceship- yes it did flew away but at least the people were saved- The mission became world wide news and soon every move they made caught the public’s eye. With this led to more intense training and additional etiquette workshops to better the group’s public image.

Reginald being a helicopter parent took a toll on the children, who had coped in their own ways. Luther taking the role of ‘leader’ to heart, Diego with his never ending hero complex, Allison using her power to get whatever she wanted, Klaus fell into the world of drugs and alcohol, Five-the rebel who thinks he’s smarter than everyone even dad, Ben into the world of video games, Vanya became ever more quiet and more to herself, and you-a yes person to dad who calls you his most valuable asset that has ever crossed his path, never wanting to let him down.

Things really started to get out of hand at the ripe old age of 13. Breakfast had been a mess, Five had a massive argument with dad and stormed out of the house. You ran after him, caught his coat just as he passed the gate- the very gate you are standing in front of now.

‘FIVE! WAIT!’

‘WHAT?’ He turned, looking angrier as ever.

‘Please don’t leave.’ You place your hand on his shoulder- damn when did he become taller than you? ‘You both can talk this out. Rationalized things out’ You pleaded.

He shook your hand away. ‘Talk? REALLY Y/N? You think good old dad would dare listen to someone younger than him? TO HIS OWN CHILDREN?’ He snorted. ‘You are daft y/n. I thought you were smarter than this-‘ Five sighed. ‘But a guess you are too much of a daddy’s girl to see things clearly.’

‘I know you didn’t mean that’ You stammered, not letting the tears fall. ‘that’s just your anger talking.’

‘oh but I do mean it. Now if you’d excuse me, I have to get going to prove dad wrong.’

Five makes a step forward but you blocked his way

‘GET OUT OF THE WAY Y/N’ He pushes you. ‘I DON’T WANT TO SEE YOUR FACE ANYMORE.’

As you fell to the ground, you see him blip away.

That was the last time anyone had seen Number Five and his final words still haunts you to this day.

‘get out of the way y/n! i don’t want to see your face anymore.’

To make matters worst from having a sibling disappear and to never come back was to have another sibling lose his life.

The media was quick to publish the news. It was all the tabloid and news outlets seem to care about. The headline would vary but all in all still carry the same heart-breaking news. Be it from ‘The Horror dies in mission.’ , ‘The Umbrella Academy loses the life of another of its members.’ to ‘RIP to teen superhero Ben Hargreeves aka The Horror.’

Oh Ben, dear Ben. Why must he be taken away? You thought. Why?

The mission was meticulously planned and prepared for. You were sure to have extracted all the information on what was to go down and what the villains’ moves were from your vision.

You had memorized that every aspect of that dream- you had 2 weeks to prepare. Everyone was supposed to be safe, but why wasn’t Ben?

Why didn’t reality play out as to what you foresaw? You had never slipped up before. Why had the one time you did cost you the life of your beloved brother? Why?

While sobbing your eyes out onto Ben’s grave, a memory of what seemed so long ago came rushing back.

>>‘I’m sorry y/n.’ He said leaning on your door frame.

‘Ben!’ You exclaimed. ‘I’m so glad you’re back up and running!’

Ben was caught off guard. ‘You—You’re not mad at me?’

‘Why would I be mad at you?’ You questioned, genuinely confused at your brother’s words.

‘Cause, Cause I almost got you killed. I am a monster.’

You sat up straight at those words, your ribs hurt a bit at the sudden movement, but you didn’t care. Your brother was blaming himself for something he couldn’t have controlled.

‘NO BEN!’

Ben jumped from your sudden outburst.

You motioned for him to come closer.

‘Ben…’ looking into his eyes. ‘Ben you are no monster.’

‘But—’

‘uuh uh I’m not done’ You held his hand in yours. ‘You are no monster what happened then was an accident, nobody knew, heck nobody expected powers to just show up. It was beyond anyone’s control. It took us by surprise.’

His shoulders relaxed.

‘It wasn’t your fault. I don’t blame you for what happened.’

He gave you a bone crushing hug. ‘Thank you y/n. You don’t know how guilty I was feeling.’ Voice muffled by your shoulder, which is now wet with his tears. ‘I kept thinking about the pain I caused you and I wasn’t allowed to leave my room even when I begged dad to see you and say sorry. y/n’

‘Shhh shhh’ Rubbing his back. ‘It’s alright Ben. What’s important is that we’re all here now. Alive, Safe and sound.’. <<

‘I’m sorry Ben…’ You choked out.

‘I’m so sorry Benny…’ Wiping his gravestone of your tears. ‘I—I got you killed. I am a monster. I am THE monster.’ You hiccupped. ‘It is MY job to keep everyone same, to do the reconnaissance, to ensure that everyone in the frontline is safe. It is my power to foresee what could go wrong, to avoid disastrous mistakes. And….and I failed, Ben. I failed. I failed you, dad, The Umbrella Academy.’

‘I miss you Ben so much…’ You lie down with an arm across the lawn. Picturing that is was him you’re hugging, that he is really there.’ more than your annoyingly sweet ass could ever believe. I wish you were here Ben, safe and sound. And if you could hear me Ben, I wish you could forgive me.’

Your eyes slowly fall shut from the emotional guilt you’re feeling but a warm breeze passes through like a warm embrace lightening the heavy burden within.

A soft whisper of reassurance and familiar words brings you to peaceful rest.

‘I forgive you y/n. It wasn’t your fault. I don’t blame you for what happened.’

You stirred from your sleep as you felt yourself lifted from the ground.

‘Careful Diego! You might wake her up.’ You hear Klaus say.

All this trauma, stress and was just too much to handle by minors and as quickly as all your powers came, the same goes for the people who left.

Klaus was the first to leave the academy at age 16, who choose to be self-checked at a rehab centre, stating that that was a way healthier environment then this shithole that was ‘home’. Who could blame him? Especially when you yourself were planning to leave.

As much as you wanted to get up and leave in the dead of night, you can’t. You don’t have the heart to leave your remaining siblings behind. No, not in this environment. If you were to leave, you wanted them to go with you, to at least know they would have a good life ahead.

Under Reginald’s watchful eye, it would take time to sort the plan out, but it would be worth it.

And you know just the person to talk to.

‘Heyya Diego.’

‘You’re up to something y/n/n and I don’t want to be in any part of it.’ He says without glancing your way. ‘Not after the pineapple incident.’ Diego’s eyes finally landing on you.

Rolling your eyes, you chuckled. ‘Oh come on Diegs! That was years ago! It was just a childish prank—’

Diego gives you the finger.

‘-Oi! It is not MY fault what Luther did to you; besides you were supposed to take the EAST stairwell, NOT the West.’ You say matter of factly, shaking your head. ‘Ughh no, we are getting out of topic. Diego, I need your help and you have to promise not to tell anyone-’

‘You’re devising a getaway plan, aren’t you?’

Your brows scrunched together. ‘How’d you—’

‘I’m not blind y/n, I recognised the look of someone who too is planning to escape.’

You raise a brow. ‘Too?’

‘Yes, Too.’ Diego edges closer to you. ‘Now, why don’t we save the trouble of potentially ruining each other’s individual schemes and join forces. Team up. More brainpower. And whatnot. Deal?’ Offering his pinky out.

You ignored the outstretched gesture. ‘What happened to being a lone wolf huh? I thought that was your thing now?’ You countered.

‘Like a said y/n, the more brainpower, the higher the success.’ He explained. ‘Say, we do manage to get out or perhaps just leave, like Klaus. Where would we go? Where would you? Hmm?’

‘I… I…’ You honestly don’t know.

‘Exactly. That’s why we team up and once we’re out of here. We stick together for a while till we get back on our feet and figure out what we want then go our separate ways.’

You nod, digesting his words. It seems like a solid plan with ample flexibility before deciding on what to do with your life after. But….

‘Okay…..’

‘Okay!’

‘…On one condition. It would not only you and me. We’ll try to get to convince the others to come along too.’

‘What?! y/n no, that’s too many people on the plan-‘

‘More brainpower, higher the success. Your words Diego. Not mine.’ You retaliated. ‘Besides, we can’t just leave everyone here. It’s miserable here. They’re family Diego.’

‘Fine we’ll tell Luther and Allison.’

‘Everyone, Diego.’ You stared him down. ‘And that includes Vanya. No buts.’

‘Ugh.Fine.’ He points a finger towards your face. ‘We tell Luther, Allison AND Vanya. But I swear y/n if anyone of them rats us out or backs out of the plan. We leave them behind. No pity if they choose to stay in this shithole of a house. They are old enough to make their own decision and to face the consequences.’ He leans back to the bed’s headboard. ‘That’s my final offer. Deal?’

‘Deal.’ You interlock your fingers, sealing the pinky promise.

It was easy to get Vanya on board, as she was the child that received the crappiest treatment from dad. Allison was hesitant at first but after convincing her the real world had so much more to give compared to that of the imaginary perfect bubble she created for herself here in the academy with the use of her power, she was on board.

Luther that ever loyal ‘leader’ of the academy would never dare cross dad, the idea wouldn’t have even crossed his mind. Diego had failed to make him see reason and so have you. Luther only came around to be a part of the escape because Allison had agreed to it.

It took almost 6 months. The time has come. You all had saved up enough money to rent a loft apartment downtown and pooled enough to last at least 3 months on your own.

At 1:00 am. All the remaining 5 Hargreeves are to ready with their backpacks to sneak out in groups, boys and girls, and meet at the rendezvous point, Giddy’s Doughnuts. There, a van would be available for them to drive to the apartment.

The boys were to go first, as to let Diego deactivate the security features of the house while Luther stands guard.

It was only supposed to take 15 minutes tops, it was 20 minutes past now. Something was wrong.

Deciding as a team to check up on the boys, you, Allison and Vanya head down to the foyer.

Upon arrival, you see Luther with his hands covering Diego’s face, Diego who seem limp as a log.

‘Luther what’s going on?’ Allison’s voice rang out beside you.

‘I’m sorry….’ He looks down unto the unconscious Diego in his arms. ‘I just… I just couldn’t.’

‘Number Eight! How could you! How could all of you! Three! Seven!’

The room seemed to turn colder by the sound of the voice. You turn and see Sir Reginald Hargreeves.

‘Dad…’

‘YOU ARE ALL A DISGRACE.’ Reginald spitted.

‘But dad!’ Luther pleaded. ‘I was the one who informed you about their plan!’

‘ENOUGH! NO MORE OF THIS FOOLISHNESS, BACK TO BED---’

‘That’s right NO MORE dad!’ Shouted Allison. She glances at dad then at Luther. A frown etched her face as she commanded. ‘I heard a rumor that you couldn’t move your legs.’

The effect was immediate. The lower half of Reginald and Luther stayed still as a rock while they tried their best to break free. But alas, Allison had the upper hand. ‘I heard a rumor you let us go freely.’ At once, both men calmed down.

And to add insult to injury. Allison focused on Reginald and rumoured ‘And you would leave Diego Hargreeves, Klaus Hargreeves, Vanya Hargreeves, Y/n Hargreeves and Allison Hargreeves alone.’

Luther’s betrayal felt like a stab in the back.

Moving on and creating a new life from the ground up for oneself was hard but having your siblings with you had definitely made it easier.

It took a while to get the hang of things, being 4 young adults with nothing. You missed Mom and Pogo, but you knew that they, like Luther would stick with Dad.

Vanya was the first to take up stack, she provided the finance to pay rent and groceries with the salary she would get from her violin performances at the local theatre. Soon Allison would also chip in from the money she received from her acting gigs.

Diego showed interest into joining the police academy while you wanted to get away from the lifestyle as much as possible, opted to move across the country and pursue tertiary education-because that was what normal 18-year-old do right? For once you want to be ordinary and what better way than experience what student life is all about.

Though there is one teensy detail that was hindering your application. You were home-schooled by your robot mom. There weren’t report cards or grades that any university would accept. Even if there were, you wouldn’t want to go back to that dreadful house.

Both not wanting to lose your newfound passion, you and Diego had an enormous favour to ask.

‘NO not a chance!’ Allison crossed her arms. ‘It’s unethical!’

‘Yes we know-‘ you replied.

‘But it’s the only way.’ Diego reasoned. ‘It’s not fair for y/n and I to not be able to follow our dreams and to finally FINALLY move on with our lives, Ally. While you and Vanya get to live out yours.’

You nodded along. ‘We ask you just this one thing and we’re out of your hair.’

Allison looked between you two as if to decided whether it would be worth it. ‘Fine, just this once.’ She sighs. ’And this doesn’t get out kapeesh?’ pointing her finger.

‘kapeesh.’

‘I’m gonna miss you so much!’ Vanya admitted.

You pulled both your sisters into a hug. ‘I’m miss you gals more!’

Allison wipes her tears away. ‘Don’t forget us okay? Remember we’re only a text away.’

‘Tell Diego that I’m gonna miss kicking his butt when he come back from his officer training, ye?’

Over the years you hadn’t lost touch with your family. It’s been a while since you’ve all together physically, but you do video chat every once and a while and you have a general tab on each of your siblings. Vanya is currently the 3rd chair violin at her orchestra, Diego had channelled his inner batman and believe to be a vigilante keeping the streets and public safe.

As for Klaus, Diego had told you that he hasn’t managed to keep off his ~happy place~ and had seen him in and out of nightclubs.

Allison….Well who wouldn’t know about what she’s up to. A-list celebrity with numerous critically acclaimed movies to her name, one half of Hollywood’s hottest couple and amazing role model for mothers. Ahh Claire that sweet angel, who says that you’re her favourite aunt, that smile of hers melts your heart.

The last you’ve seen of Luther is when his journey to the moon has been televised a couple of years ago. There’s been no news since.

The rattling of the gate brings you back to the present.

‘AH yes, Miss.y/n. He has been expecting you.’

‘Pogo!’ You exclaimed, wrapping him in a hug.

‘So I’m not to late then? Where’s mom?’

‘Grace is with Sir Reginald, my dear.’ Pogo leads you up the stairs.

Looking around, everything is as pristine as usual. ‘I see that nothing’s change’ You noted.

‘Yes, well I was asked to keep it as it always was.’

He opens the door to Reginald’s quarters. There on the bed was dad, looking sickly pale but still alive unlike to what you had seen in your vision.

Beside him wiping away the sweat on his forehead was mom. ‘Oh, my dear y/n I’m glad you could join us.’ She says as if years hadn’t gone by without your presence.

You reach the foot of the bed. ‘Dad…’ you begin.

But Reginald cuts you off. ‘Number Eight. Glad to see that logical and curious side of yours overrides that irrational emotive side.’ His voice weak yet still holds its signature condescending tone. ‘It is your disposition to the voice of reason and mysteries of the unknown that led you here, despite your supposed hatred towards me-‘

‘There’s no grey area, I do hate you.’

He waved his hand to dismiss your interruption.

‘As I was saying, it is of this reason- your control over the impulsiveness that is apparent to all of your siblings who lack control- is why you are my favourite.’

You scoffed.

‘It is true, my dear y/n.’

‘Oh please. You only see me as a “valuable asset”. Remember?’

Reginald nods. ‘I do, but I believe the exact words were “You would do great things Number Eight. To see into the future is a valuable asset to have indeed”. Thus, implying that your ability is the asset not you.’

‘Sure, just rub it in don’t you.’ Rolling your eyes.

‘I hope that you do too remember that also in my own words that you were and still are “the cleverest of the bunch”.’

‘So why am I here, you’re clearly not dead.’ You looked at him again. You’ve never seen your dad so fragile ever. ‘….yet. So there must be something to do with that. Perhaps find your killer?’

On the bedside table, you took note of the cup of tea and medication. Your brain is in super speed, running through ideas on what could have cause him to be so sickly.

‘It could be your meds…..’ You look up. ‘Mom who else has access to Dad’s medication?’

‘Just us dear, Pogo and I.’

‘Number Eight there is no killer. I am dying because of old age, it is quite normal for-‘

‘NO No but the mortality rate is 350 years for the species of—’

‘Ah!’ Reginald’s face showed of surprise which slowly turned into cunningest. ‘so, you know then’ He chuckled.

‘Yes.’

‘Since when?’ He asked genuinely curious.

‘When we first showed signs of powers, some of your notes were written in a language I did not recognised.’ You recalled. ‘So, I did some digging, it took a while but when I found about the secret safe under this very bed and what it contained. Everything became clearer.’

‘Very good. Y/n. Nobody knew about the safe expect myself.’ He looked over at Pogo. ‘Did you know of it?’

‘No, Sir.’ Pogo admitted. ‘Not until now.’

‘Very well indeed. You knew all this time, yet you didn’t say anything. Why?’

‘Because it didn’t matter.’ You shrugged. ‘The only thing that matter in this household was our powers.’

‘Did the others-‘

‘No, they didn’t know. I hadn’t told a soul. It is not my secret to share.’

‘And soon it will be yours.’

‘What?’

‘Number Eight, it is without a doubt my time here is limited. Perhaps as little as an hour.’

Never had you seen someone talk about their death like this. You shiver at the thought.

‘By the fact that you are here now and had seen a vision of me dead means that the block I had place on you to prevent you peering into events regarding me is failing. Failing as my health is.’

You want to be angry. How dare he supress your power. But you stand still as a rock by his confession. ‘why?’ A soft whisper was all you could muster. ‘why?’

‘Because I had to keep my real identity a secret. To prevent you from exposing me.’ He coughed. ‘But turns out, you hadn’t need to use your powers to know that, as what you’ve told me.’ He looked at you with watering eyes. ‘You found that all on your own, yet you did not disclose anything.’ He reached out for your hand to which you accept. ‘For which I am delighted that at least I can say that I have one child, a daughter to be proud of.’

A daughter to be proud of.

You would like to think that you are strong and independent. And those are true. But that small child that all that wanted was to experience a parent’s love and affection. That emotional support of that small child which you thought you had successfully tucked away came clawing its way back to the surface.

‘y/n’ You had almost missed it, wiping away your tears, you leaned closer.

‘Listen carefully….’ Your dad’s chest was barely moving. It was a struggle for him to get the following words out. ‘The end is near, get the others ……and save…..the…..tttiiiimmm’

You never head what came next. Sir Reginald Hargreeves is dead.

Under the setting sun, Reginald looked at peace.

A half moon shines brightly above the house. It had been 3 days and 7 Hours since it happened.

Exhaustion is starting to catch up with you but there is still so much to do.

News channels had broadcasted the breaking news of your father’s death.

You had personally called your siblings to deliver the news, they are to arrive tomorrow for the funeral at noon.

Luther who had been expecting to relay dad his daily report status on the space radio, cussed at you in anger-those were the first words you heard in 12 years- calmed down and said that he will be there in 3 days, in time for the funeral.

‘Sweetie, I brought you some tea.’

‘Thanks mom.’ You take a sip. ‘Hey mom did you think you’re gonna be alright now that you know…. That dad is gone?’

She runs her fingers to your hair. ‘I’m gonna be fine dear, I am stronger than you know.’

You smile at her. You just can’t help but to think what’s gonna happen to her now that your dad is gone. Pushing that thought away-like she said, I am stronger than you know.

‘Now, why don’t we get you to bed.’ She cuts you off before you can say a word. ‘Uh uh. You have done so much already. You need rest especially with the funeral in 9 hours. Pogo and I can handle the remaining task.’

‘Thanks again mom.’

She tucks you into bed. ‘Good night y/n/n. Sweet Dreams.’ She kisses the top of your head. ‘I love you.’

‘I love you too mom.’ As she leaves your room, you realised that you didn’t want to be alone. ‘Mom…’ You called out, almost childlike.

‘Yes dear.’ Grace makes her way back in.

‘Well you stay with me? Sing to me until I fall asleep?’

‘Ofcourse dear.’ She smiles, pulling up a chair beside your bed.

The lull of your mother’s voice sends you to sleep with the memories of the childhood before power. When everything was simple. When there was love in this household.

You awoke to sounds of screams and flashes of blue light. You hurry to your window, it shows the courtyard, a ball of blue chaos small black figures.

You pull on your jacket and ran downstairs, the clock in the foyer shows 11:37am. Crap you overslept! But that means…..that the figures you saw were your siblings. There are early….that’s new.

You arrived in the courtyard just as you see Klaus throws a fire extinguisher at the blue light.

‘What are you doing?!’ Shouted Luther.

‘What is that gonna do?’ Allison questioned.

‘I don’t know!!’ Klaus turned around ‘Do you have a better idea?—Oh hey y/n! Nice to see you!’ He ran over and gave you a tight hug. ‘What a family reunion ehh?’

Before you could reply, the ball of blue gave out a crackle of electricity.

‘Everyone get behind me!’ Luther pushes in front of everyone.

‘Yeah! Get behind us.’ Diego chimed in, pushing Vanya closer to you.

Vanya ignores Diego, trying to get a better look herself. ‘It looks like something is coming through!’

The ball of light exploded, the sudden burst of energy was blinding that you had to cover your eyes.

Then nothing, total darkness.

THUD. You heard Vanya scream.

‘Argh!’

The blue chaos had expelled something….someone.

Luther was the first to speak. ‘Who’s there?’

‘Show yourself!’ said Diego.

As a collective group, you walked towards the mystery person.

Your eyes go wide with shock. No it can’t be, it’s impossible. You must be seeing things.

‘Does anyone else see little Number Five, or is that just me?’ wondered Klaus.

Klaus looked around and saw that everyone showed that same face of disbelief. Pleased to know that it wasn’t the drugs, he snickered. ‘Now THIS! THIS IS WHAT I CALL A FAMILY REUNION.’

Little Five who didn’t seem to have aged a day since you last saw him,

It’s been years but seeing him looking like he did back when you last saw him, you recall the last words he had shouted at you.

‘get out of the way y/n! i don’t want to see your face anymore.’

Five looks down at himself drowned in tattered oversize clothes, wining. ‘SHIT!’

Something is wrong, something is very wrong and you know it.

No way was this all a coincidence for your father to warn you about some impending doom and have Five to reappear 17 years later. It must be related somehow…What’s next you thought……For Ben to come back to life too?

END OF PART 2

READ: [PART 1] [PART 3] [PART 4]

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blissfulparker · 4 years

Text

Scary Love→neighbor!Tom pt.2

Parings→neighbor!Tom x singlemom!reader

Summary→ tom wants a break from the spotlight, a simple life in a small neighborhood gives him that relief. But what if things get too comfortable and he starts to fall for the pretty girl and her son next door?

Warnings→fluff, tension

A/n→wow, I know, this is so quick for a part two but I really loved writing part one and have a lot of this already written out! I hope you guys enjoy!

Word count: 2k

Pt.1 here

Moodboard credits: @thollandss

“Fuck!” Tom cries as his finger gets pinched by another nail going into setting up his bed. He knew how to build things pretty well, he went to school to be a carpenter if acting didn’t work so why was he struggling so much? He didn’t know.

It was the third day of moving in, Tom rarely saw you and Ben and when he did it was a quick hello trying to get somewhere. Passing each other on a walk was all your interactions, Even though he wanted to know you more, he didn’t know how to ask.

His house was half built, he woke up and worked on the living room for the whole morning, then at lunch he unpacked his kitchen only to realize he had no groceries. He left to get to the store quick and then came back to work on his bedroom and build his bed, his dresser, he was so use to the boys helping him and messing around now he had no one, no one was helping him. But this is what he all wanted, his ideal life was this. Or at least he thought. He wanted to be alone with family and friends and lead a normal life, delete social media and be free for awhile. Maybe he was so use to his life before that he couldn’t get use to this. That his life wasn’t supposed to be this.

He was so drowned out by his own thoughts that he didn’t even hear the knock at his front door. He didn’t hear your soft knock as you held a box of cookies hoping he’d come to the door. Ben made cookies last night for his class party and wanted the leftovers to go to tom since you told him no more sugar.

“Hello?” You knew it wasn’t right to walk In but his garage was open, his moving truck was open, and so was his front door.

“Hellooo?” You make sure to speak louder so he can hear you. You don’t hear him but a dog comes running in, jumping on your jeans getting dust on the pants. Tom comes running down the stairs and uses a sharp voice to call the dog—Tessa—off.

“I’m so sorry.” He comes over to you quickly and snaps off the dog. “Are you alright?” He completely dismisses that you’re in his house unexpectedly.

“I’m fine.” You wipe off the dust and he holds your forearms making sure you’re okay. “I’m sorry I came in here unannounced but the door was unlocked and Ben made cookies for his class and he wanted to give the rest to you.” You hold out the container. He takes it with a smile and sets it down on his kitchen counter, still needing to do his dining room table.

“Thanks so much.” He dusts off his hands and you take a look around. You feel maybe it was a bad idea for barding in, maybe he was super busy and you are too bold now he thinks you’re the weird neighbor.

“Where is the little man?” He asks and you stop yourself from staring at the new place for too long.

“Oh, school. My mom picks him up and he stays with her for a while. She drops him back home at around four.” You told him and he nods. He leans against his counters and you shove your hands in his back pockets.

“I also wanted to know if you needed any help? I heard some moving around—not that I was listening—I was just curious if you needed help.” You asked and he lets out a soft yet stressed laugh.

“Yeah, yeah I could use some help.” He bites his lip before pushing himself off the counter. “If you don’t mind I need help fixing my bed, if you can just hold the header in place.” He asks and you follow him up his stairs to the large bedroom. He opens the door and what’s there is a mattress, and a bunch of wood. You laugh as he’s halfway got it but halfway failing.

“Okay lift from the bottom—“ he grunts trying to screw in the screw. He lays flat on his back and tries to screw in the screw. It’s quite the site to see from your view. His muscles flex as he fiddled with the screw and stuck it in. Grunts leave both of your lips as he gets in the last screw.

“Oh-“ he breathes out his chest raising up and down as he finally is finished with the bed with your help. “Oh my god.” It’s almost a moan as he gasps for air.

“You just had to pick the hardest bed frame huh?” You tease as you sit on the floor next to him. He rubs his face before leaning over to grab water and take a drink.

“It wasn’t that hard the first time.” He admits and you give him a strange look.

“The first time?” You ask and he nods still catching his breath.

“Yeah,” he sits himself up. “The first time.” He tells as he stands up. You stand up as well and help him place the mattress on the bed as the final touch. Luckily it doesn’t break when placed on and you sigh in relief.

Tom stands up to take a seat on the bed and there was the sound of a crack only to be over ruled by the whole bed collapsing. you try to grab him before accidentally being pulled into him.

you cant help but to burst out into laughter, the way you both struggled to get the bed together only to be broken by a single person, the screw tom told you that was not important was important after all.

“You want a beer?” He offers, trying not to continue laughing. you look down at how the both of your bodies are pressed together and lift yourself up from him and move off the bed.

You nod, wiping off A thin layer of sweat on your forehead, you follow tom downstairs to his kitchen where he pulls two beers from his fridge.

“Will you need help with the kitchen table too?” You ask hoping he says no after the whole bed but also hoping he says ‘yes’ so you can spend more time together.

“No, no, my best mate and brothers will be over to help me fix that.” He tells you so you don’t feel obligated to help him put it together. On the inside you pout but on the outside you just nod.

“Welcome to the normal life.” You raise your bottle a bit and he raises his eyebrows and takes another sip.

“Thank you for helping me.” He thanks for the millionth time and you nod.

“Anytime.” Your eyes are stuck on each other. He takes in his new life and how he could’ve been missing this for years while you take in the man in front of you who is probably worth more than your entire existence yet stands here in Hollister jeans and a target tee shirt.

“I am sorry about your bed, it must be exhausting sleeping on the couch you can come over tonight--wait! No. I mean--” you start realizing it sounds you're offering something much different.

“are you offering me to sleep in your bed?” he has a cocky smirk knowing its only causing you to become more embarrassed.

“No! I mean Yes! as in id sleep on the couch and--” you never thought once in your life you'd embarrass yourself in front of a movie star.

Before anything could get worse your phone rings. The back pocket buzz makes you jump slightly as you were so deep in your embarassmet.

“Shoot.” You set the bottle down and Tom presses his lips against his to hide his laugh. It was cute the way you didn’t say curse words because of your son, how you sensor yourself while He himself could probably not even go an hour without yelling ‘fuck’.

“Everything alright?” He runs a hand through his hair.

“Yeah, it’s just my mom dropping off Ben.” You shove your phone in your back pocket seeing how your moment is over. Maybe it wasn’t even a moment at all, maybe it was just all in your head.

“I should probably head on out then, don’t wanna keep the hyperactive kid waiting.” You only tease and tom walks out with you and leans against his front door once you’re out of the porch.

“Thank you, again. Ben was right, you can fix things really well.” He presses his lips together and you laugh a little feeling heat rise to your body.

“Well, I can only do so much. But again, I'm sorry it broke” You rock on your heels. You both zone out again, trying to find words to fill the void but it’s almost like you don’t want to use words, you want to be closer and learn to know each other.

“Don't be, I'm the idiot who said not to use the screw for the leg. Your help means a lot, I probably would’ve been crushed by that thing if it weren’t for you.” He jokes and you laugh a little before the sound of a car pulling up to your driveway distracts your small talk.

Your little boy jumps out of the car, his school bag huge on his shoulders as he shuts the car door and runs over to the front door. Banging on the door and trying to open it to tell you about his school day.

Tom leans his head against the frame and watches the boy. He’s wanted kids, he’s always wanted kids. But he was only 23, soon to be 24 and had a workload waiting for him next year when he was done taking his break. A family was not something he can have when he wanted and he envies some people for that. He envies some people for getting the chance to settle down and have a casual life. He had that taken from him when he walked his first red carpet.

“Enjoy your freedom now, Tom.” You groan. you loved Ben with your whole heart, wouldn’t change it for the world but sometimes all you wanted was a bath where you didn’t have a kid trying to shove a crayon in the lock on the other side.

“If you ever need my help, i'm here to watch him.” He tells you not even realizing he said it. You look at him with shocked eyes at how fast he’s moving with his words, body language, everything.

“You say that then get tired about an hour in, trust me.” You tell him and he shuts the door behind him so Tessa can stop trying to get out.

“Mum!” Ben catches where you are and starts to run over. You give Tom a soft smile and a quick goodbye before being met in the middle with the little boy.

Tom waves back when Ben does. He watches you smile and laugh with the little boy as you listen to his day and go back into your house. He clears his throat knowing it’s not good for him to just watch other happy families be born, it’s not his place to come in and out.

He goes back into his house closing his door. He touches the blue staffies head before walking back into his kitchen. He finishes up his beer before looking over at the mess of a kitchen table and his mess of a bed.

“You and I, Tess, are in for a long night.” He speaks for the dog and she just sits there patiently waiting. He can already hear the sound of Henry outside with his planes and it warms his heart but he can’t get attached to anything. He promised he’d live downlow for a year and then pick things up where he left off.

He can’t get attached to anything, he can’t.

Please leave feedback it helps me out and let’s me know if you want another part!

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soulwillower · 4 years

Text

buttercup • richie tozier

(richie tozier x reader)

requested: Would you mind writing a Richie Tozier X reader soulmate AU where Richie is VERY self conscious and he finds out that the reader is his soulmate and the reader is well known and very pretty, so he’s just like djjdjfgjjcbvnfnf but once they actually meet she really likes him? :0 thanks if you consider!

warning: swearing, angst, richie being edgy and also a bit unstable (king shit), neuroatypical richie!!!, fluff, soulmate au!! <33 also sorry this may be rough, i havent edited it at all

[reader + losers are in college]

lmk what u guys think of this one,... idk LOL

4.1k words

♡

richie was about to be sick. yes, he really, really was going to vomit in approximately ten seconds and he didn’t know what he was going to do. the room, full of barely-adults chugging jungle juice was sweaty and bustling and the walls were closing in on him quick. those people who weren't in the main rooms were doing sniff in the bathrooms and blocking his pathway to heaven (the toilet) so he quickly stumbles towards the sliding-glass door.

he passes a guy who claps his shoulder and says in a deep voice, "you good, bro?"

no, no. he's not good, bro. thanks for asking, though.

as he finally breaks free of the plastic, out of the crusty balloon that was holding his body hostage, he takes a deep breath and sprawls himself on the back deck, staring up at the clouds in the nighttime sky. maybe he should go home and mull this over, before he crams it down his own throat and chokes to death, alone and broken on the back deck of a 22 year old business major's rental house.

he laughs to himself - an image which he's sure would be a full on maniacal scene to an onlooker - as he lights a cigarette with very shaky fingers. even if he chooses to give this situation some thought, he will end up being forced regardless because this is, quite literally, richard tozier's destiny.

y/n y/l/n is richie's destiny, and it makes him feel like complete shit.

you see - his whole life, richie knew about the fucking soulmate tattoos. of course he did, everybody did - it was, like, one of the first things you learn, ever. he knows that there's basically a soulmate for every person and often times the soulmate marks were different, the ways of finding your soulmate were wide and far.

for most of richie's life - actually, almost all of it up until the last month - he'd had a big, fat 0 tattooed on his arm and below it a humiliating phrase that was quite the epitome of richie himself.

yet it never changed, which led him, his friends, and his parents to determine that he'd gotten a time-counter soulmate mark, which he likes to pride himself on believing he did not give a single fuck about.

the number is supposed to count the amount of time that you've spent with your soulmate, and there's usually a sentence or phrase that's associated with your soulmate's first thoughts of you below it. and yeah, of course the first thing the lucky guy or gal thought of richie is 'wow, those are the ugliest socks ever.' pretty fucking on-brand, if richie says so himself.

so yeah, he never really paid attention to his soulmate mark - partly because the thought of emotionally opening up to someone enough for them to know his whole and true self was repulsive and terrifying enough to make him physically ill, enough for him to develop a crazy sense of humor as a less-than proficient coping mechanism for the insecurity and fear that lives in his mind rent-free, 24/7 365. but mostly he didn't pay attention to the mark because, you know, he thought it was lame.

that is, until it changed from the 0.

it happened on the first day of classes fall semester of this, his freshman year of college.

which, honestly, was a huge fucking bummer, because he literally came into contact with almost 800 new people that first day through classes, dorms, walking around campus, and the dining hall. and yet, as he got back to his dorm and smoked a bowl with bill, he'd noticed that his arm had said 00:51:26.

bill had been so excited he'd almost lifted richie through the roof, because 'holy sh-shit, rich, y-you did it!'

it was hard to believe someone was out there for him, though. and yeah, he didn't give a fuck about it, but he also kind of did.

richie, now thinking back on that day, groans a bit. if he'd just known, if he had just fucking looked at the thigh of the girl in front of him with the soft-looking grin and the alluring scent of orange creamsicle shampoo, who'd smiled a bit when he borrowed a pen - if he'd just known then that y/n was meant to spend the rest of her life with him, he could've... well, he's not really sure what he could have done.

he thinks to that moment in time, as he was blowing smoke out the dorm window with bill and giggling as he ate an entire bag of cheez-its, and how much he wanted to know who it was back then.

but tonight, it had become a nightmare when the information practically fell into his lap. he's at this house party in late september, and about five minutes ago it was just boring enough to warrant sitting on the rug in the living room and just fun enough to actually stay.

“-yeah, she said the first time you guys met was in microeconomics, right?” ben says, and richie huffs in agreement as he picks at the skin on his nails. ben was talking about her again, and richie's heart was beating stupidly hard. y/n, one of his closest friends that he'd made outside of the losers, never failed to make his heart run a goddamn marathon.

“-she told me the first thing she noticed was that you were wearing socks with sandals. and she thought that your socks were really ugly.” he finishes with a laugh and richie’s head snaps up at that. he feels chills spill over back as if he’d been doused with ice water and he gapes at ben. “wait, what?” richie shudders, the words escaping his lips quietly enough that his friends mistake it for a forceful exhale brought on by offense at the word 'ugly.'

“well she was right to think that.” stan says from behind his solo cup, carefree, as if richie’s life wasn’t crashing to an alarming and unbelievable halt. eddie giggles faintly somewhere from the floor where the losers are sitting, but richie’s mind is reeling too much for him to react to or even comprehend anything.

“rich, i th-thought i got you to st-stop wearing socks and sandals so long ago.” bill adds, laughing into his hand. but richie’s barely registering any other fucking information because he’s staring at ben, who is finally noticing his friend’s perplexed face. “you good, rich?” ben asks carefully.

“wh-er, wait. what exactly did she say?” richie asks, really not wanting to know the answer and yet wanting to know more than life itself. it can't be her. he’s getting odd looks from everyone now, but he's starting to breathe quickly and he thinks he might vomit. he kind of regrets never showing anybody but big bill his soulmate mark, because he's suffocating right now in embarrassment and bill is a little too drunk to assume what richie's assuming right now.

“wait, y/n y/l/n, right? from my dorm. she’s here tonight, she told me- oh, y/n!” stan calls, looking directly over richie’s shoulder. it happens so fast. y/n, in the flesh, walks past at just that moment, breaking out into a breath-taking, world-halting smile. richie's chest hurts worse than it ever has before as she waves and bustles over to plop herself next to richie. and holy shit, she's wearing shorts because even though it's cold out, the house is warm and richie can see dark ink on her thigh. a soulmate tattoo. he can't draw his eyes away even though his brain is screaming to knock it off because there's going to be something there he doesn't want to accept, but he then does it anyways.

he almost hyperventilates as he reads the words emblazoned on her thigh,

27:36:08 and right below it: "holy hell her hair smells like orange creamsicle"

he almost sobs right then and there as she greets him with a soft hand on his shoulder, completely unaware of their fate and richie has to stand up abruptly because he can literally feel the numbers changing on his arm as the seconds go by with y/n at his side.

and now, mere minutes later he's out here, laying in self pity as anxiety claws at every inch of his body and fear tingles on him like the slight presence of snowflakes falling on his skin - briefly he wonders if, as an older man, he'll wonder how he never got cold wearing nothing, vulnerable as he welcomes in that falling snow.

he would be totally daft not to wonder how he ended up with a soulmate like her, someone not only so fucking attractive but so kind and undeserving of a monstrosity of a human like him. she is, in every place he isn't, a complete and utter success of a person; he's a hurricane where she's whitecaps in the sea, he's loud and abrupt while she is kind and outgoing. maybe they do work well together, hell - they spend enough time on study dates outside of class for him to know that he does really like her. but richie also knows his standoffish, happy-go-lucky and untamed personality paired with his unwillingness to make himself appear vulnerable to most people will probably have a very large impact on... whatever it is that happens with y/n.

because that's really the point, isn't it?

she is stuck with him. bucky beaver, the trashmouth, mr. i-can't-keep-my-trap-shut-for-three-seconds. y/n, the most incredible person in this world, is the kind of person that was designed for richie to admire from afar, as he is so willing to suffer through. because as much as it hurts to watch her and to love her without loving her, it is a thousand times safer for both of them than the inevitable look of disappointment that will befall y/n’s angelic features when she discovers who her burden of a soulmate is.

the thought makes richie choke out a weak sob, sitting up and digging the heel of his palms into his sockets, trying to scrub out the image of himself from his brain. awful, awful, bad.

he takes a long drag from his cigarette and for a brief moment he wonders if, just maybe, she’ll love him back eventually. the thought makes him feel like crying all over again.

huge nose, big teeth, awkwardly skinny and too tall. maybe he's got nice hair, but he sometimes wakes up too late and can only brush his teeth and swipe on deodorant before he's sprinting out his dorm with his pickle socks and stan's old sandals, trudging to class and getting in the way of y/n's future.

but he is her future, after all - how can that be right?

he doesn't have enough time to take another drag from his cig as he hears the glass door open, the noise from the party bursting through the gap in the foundation of the house and sending him back to five minutes, ago, inside. he cranes his neck and can't bring himself to be surprised when he sees her, backlit from the party inside and figure in his mind standing like the only being in the world.

she thinks he looks devastatingly beautiful tonight. she loves the awkwardness in his bones, the way he carries himself with confidence although she's not sure he always really has it. he's wearing some dumb socks again as usual, though they're mostly covered by his black pants and red high-tops this time. it makes her smile softly.

she wants to know him, really know him, as more than just a classmate, a crush, a boy who's friends with stan uris from the floor above her own room. she wants to feel his large hands on her in more than just fleeting greetings, knucks to the shoulder or jaw. she wants the sharp taste of nicotine and mint from those life savers he was always sucking on in her own mouth as he holds her tightly against him, she wants to know everything about him and be with him, even if they aren't somehow destined to be forever. which, she thinks with an array of wild animals tumbling around her chest, they might be.

after all, someone at this party is her soulmate, and she's almost 99.8% sure it's richie. it gives her the most beautiful butterflies she's ever had, even when he stares at her from the deck with glassy eyes and tear-stained cheeks.

"what’s up, buttercup?” is all she says, in her mind because he's stunned her to near-silence once again by just existing, and in his mind because she is the most perfect being.

he doesn't respond despite being completely charmed by her, because he's breathing in the nicotine and its making his fingers twitch and even though he's sober by now, he thinks he may be tweaking a bit, mostly from the overwhelming set of information that just smacked into his face when y/n walked over into that room.

he watches as suddenly she's dropping herself so she's sat next to him, her legs swinging off the edge of the deck. she eyes his cigarette. "that's so unhealthy, rich." she says softly, teasing but with a lacing of truth behind it that really makes richie itch to never smoke ever again in his life. but he's a stubborn ass, so he instead takes a deeper drag, maintaining eye contact. he can feel one tear slip from his eye and he feels so fucking melodramatic as he does so, but he's at the lowest he's been in a while, so he gives himself a bit of credit.

she reaches out and pulls the cigarette directly from between his lips, sending him a pointed look as she presses it out on the finished wood of the deck. he wipes the tear away when she's not looking. and as she turns back he smirks, unsure what else to do, as he blows the smoke out of his mouth towards her face.

"hi, toots." he says in what he hopes is a normal tone, despite his blotchy and tear-trailed face. she blinks her eyes owlishly at him but just shrugs, "you left a little prematurely back there. what, do i smell that bad?" she jokes. no, he thinks, you smell like orange creamsicles.

it's bittersweet, the irony in her statement. because he knows that she probably knows what she smells like every day, as it's literally tattooed right on the meat of her leg, on display for her and whoever else lucky enough to find themselves being acquainted with the skin of her upper thigh. the thought leaves a sour taste in his mouth.

maybe if he were feeling a little less in-the-dumps, a little less like a complete and utter disappointment and failure that ruined this sweet girl's life, he would have ribbed her back a bit. you know, grind her gears in typical tozier fashion.

but he's exhausted and so distraught that he can't bring himself to even look at her. "i'm not in the mood" he grumbles, his heart pounding. she frowns, tilting her head.

"okay, what's wrong, richie?" she asks, and it's in that caring voice that she uses that isn't pitying but simply solicitous in nature. her calming force on him is obvious and immediate and his teeth stop rattling around in his head

he wants to scream because she's burning warm and perfect while he's frigid cold inside his body; a wasteland full of broken slinkies and half-formulated 'your mom' jokes that are melded to the crust of him with the tar that's been sucked straight from those damn ciggies. for crying out loud, if he were to so much as touch her, she'd get corrupted.

she notices as he scoots a bit away from her, and her heart hurts. he's so upset, clearly, and yet it hurts her that he can't trust himself or her enough to open up; no fault of his own surely, but heartbreaking all the same. "i care about you, and i really want to be here for you." she says it like there's going to be more, but the words kind of die in her throat as she realizes the extend of her words.

holy shit, she thinks, i'd go to the ends of the earth for him. if richie asked me to, i think i'd probably kill the queen.

"i stubbed my toe, and it really hurts." he says then, and the absurdity of his excuse makes her laugh out loud, head tilting back towards the moon as the bubbly giggles tumble from her lips. she looks at him after and his face is a twisted mix of affection and utter pain, a combination that hurts her to her core but lights a fuel in her that makes her want to help him.

"it's true." he mutters, motioning to his shoe limply, and she looks at his foot, the tip of his converse scribbled in sharpie with the word 'half-brain' and then a bunch of hearts.

"i like your socks." she says absentmindedly, grinning at him as she says it, voice teasing. but the reaction she was hoping for was nowhere to be seen as richie suddenly heaves a hiccup-sob, one so upsetting and quiet that she thinks she misheard it.

but he's keeling over and clutching his face with his hands, shaking his head, and her heart breaks. "richie, honey please tell me what's going on. or i can just sit here, if you'd rather-"

her sentence is cut off with richies own rushed words, expelled from his mouth so quickly that it's almost as if they were trying to escape while his lips tried to hold them in.

"-you're going to have to spend the rest of your life trying to force yourself to love me, and that terrifies me.”

as he says it, his stomach twists itself inwards at his admission and he thinks he's going to be sick. he doesn't deserve you, you're going to resent him for it. she's silent for a few moments, and he doesn't dare look anywhere near her as tears trail down his solemn cheekbones and drop onto the black corduroy that wraps around his jittering legs.

"richie, please, what are you trying to say?" she says quietly, sounding scared, nervous, upset... richie did that. it's his fault. he tilts his head back, his brain buzzing in guilt. "fuck," he says, and it comes out broken, "you... i- you're my soulmate." he says, looking down to where his chest rises and falls almost unnaturally, a consequence of muscle memory being tampered with by the lethally college combination of nicotine, alcohol and marijuana on an empty stomach.

earlier he was afraid that if he opened his mouth too wide he would lose control of his tongue and then the words would come out without him wanting them to, but he knows he's basically sober by now, as sober as y/n is next to him - he's just neurotic, but he doesn't want her to know that, because oh god, what if she hated him for it?

she wouldn't, right? isn't she supposed to find a way to love him?

this was a really stupid idea, but in his mind it was one that had to be done. shutting his eyes, he tugs the sleeve of his left arm upwards, taking a shaky breath. again, it's silent as she reads the words written there. wow, those are the ugliest socks ever.

she stares at the words, and the number above it, then she looks at her own thigh, where the exact same number counts on in time with his.

he wastes no time, though: "-don't worry, doll. i've got it figured out, we can just- maybe we can get yours covered and you don't have to think about it anymore. fi-find someone better, like, oh, bill - he'd treat you nice i think. just- we don't have to think about it, i'm sorry." he says in one breath, not looking at her at all.

"richie, how can i be yours if you're not mine?" she says thickly because she's fighting off tears wondering how someone so incredible and full of life could feel so undeserving.

"you can't want me, you can't." he insists, not looking at her as she gapes at him because if he were to look at her expression he may lose it. it's quiet again in their own little world here, the air silent and numbing as y/n takes a breath.

"oh my god, wait richie how are we this stupid?" she asks, perking up and lightly slapping his arm. he looks at her in shock as she begins to laugh, "we've been alone together so many times. how did we not notice?" she asks, and he chuckles a bit, shrugging.

"maybe we're not the sharpest crayons in the drawer, toots. all i'm sayin' is that i figured it out first." he says cheekily, and secretly both of them are shocked to see how quickly they fell together, as if the knowledge that they were made for each other made all their insecurities fall away.

her face softens again. "you know, i saw my timer counting tonight and i was hoping more than anything that you'd be here. that we'd be-" she adds softly, a hand landing lightly on richie's thigh, sending licks of flames up his body. she takes a breath and restarts. "do you know how fucking bad i wanted it to be you?"

and just like that, y/n unintentionally provides a luscious mix of words and tricks that fill him with barely enough confidence to let him bet when he knows he should fold.

what's life without a little risk?

he meets her eyes for the first time in a few minutes and hers are large and hopeful as they wait patiently for him to give her something. but he still can't speak without running his mouth, so instead he cups her cheeks. her lips part slowly and he stares in awe at her raw beauty, unable to hold it in longer.

he presses his lips to her quickly and to her it feels like he is trying to prove something. it makes her heart soar as he comes alive against her, pressing as enthusiastically as she is into him. he tastes, as she'd guessed, like nicotine but mostly like a mint and it makes her grin as he pulls back.

"is this okay?" he's asking then, his thumb soothing over her cheek sweetly and giving her the same butterflies she gets when he smiles; the very same butterflies that release when he says anything to her, when he comes to her dorm for a study date with two red bulls in his hand, and when she realized their tattoos beat the same.

"yeah, of course." she whispers against his lips, the feeling of his teasing lightly making her sniffle. she presses their lips together again, this time warmer, more comfortably and his hands move to her hips and tug her closer, her hands winding to his neck as his own hands explore her body, caressing her sides gently. he pulls back and holds her softly.

"your hair smells nice." he says sheepishly, and she grins so widely she thinks she may split in two. her heart flutters as she looks into his eyes, finding nothing but love. "orange creamsicle, huh?" she asks with pink cheeks, and he laughs lightly, nodding his head. "best smell ever, babe."

"you make me happy." she says it onto his lips again, and the shiver that runs down his spine is a feeling he wouldn't mind feeling forever. his heart soars because he believes her, he trusts her. she wouldn't lie to him.

"we're so dramatic, aren't we?" richie jokes, his walls sliding back up a bit, but as y/n cuddles into his chest, head against his beating heart as she presses kisses to his neck, he realizes she accepts him.

"yeah, well. we're made for each other, aren't we rich?" she asks gently as his hand falls to brush over her thigh, right over the words. "that's right, toots." he says softly, looking down at her hairline softly, still in disbelief that it worked out for him. she turns to look at him, cheeks dusted a bit as she leans up to press a kiss on his lips.

tag list: @gabiatthedisco @blisshemmings @stenbrozier @simplesammyx @dickology64 @clownsloveyou @baby-yoda-a @moon-shine-baby @daughter-of-the-stars11 @lets-vibe-bro @trashedfortozier @oceandog13 @finnskindofwoman @kait-tozier @upamongthestarss @fiantomartell @beverlyparkerr @beauregard-s @diorbubs

#richie tozier x reader #richie tozier has adhd #losers x reader #bill denbrough x reader #stanley uris x reader #mike hanlon x reader #eddie kaspbrak x reader #ben hanscom x reader #beverly marsh x reader #losers club x reader

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ncvcmbcrflush · 4 years

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It is 1am and i just finished s2, so this is gonna be long and rambling and misspelled and im sorry okay?

I am not thrilled with the writing of klaus this season, can I just say? They completely undid all of his substantial development in s1, while also removing a good chunk of his positive qualities.

There were scenes where s1!klaus shined through (any of the scenes with Allison and vanya, mainly, and i was really worried abt the scenes with bby!Dave but they were handled really well imo) but those scenes were vastly overshadowed by the unnecessary cruelty? Why did they make my boy so mean this season, I am asking this question for real. S1!klaus was wild and a disaster and heartbreaking, but he was also so kind, and willing to grow as a person in ways that his siblings actively avoided most of the time.

How do you go from beautifully empathetic s1!klaus crying in response to his abusive father's suicide, protesting luther locking up vanya and later being so adamant that they take vanya back in time with them that he literally clings to her feet, to s2!klaus who seems to not care much about anything or anyone at all?? The man is dead in heaven with his father telling him point blank what a let down he is, and he still has enough love in him to cry for him, but 3 years pass and suddenly he doesn't shed a tear for his brother who just died saving their sister?? They took away so much of his emotionality and I do not understand why.

S1!klaus also absolutely would have been open to trying possession with Ben imo, and we could have avoided the intensely uncomfortable possession sequence, which should not have been played off as a joke because it wasn't funny at all, and instead just highlights how little autonomy klaus actually has- but that is a rant that needs way more brain power and research lmao.

S1!klaus also would never have hid ben from his siblings, after spending literal years telling them that ben was there with them??? He would not have done that.

And the scene where they try to save vanya was intensely ooc in my opinion- even high off his ass klaus is quick to react and jump into action- helpful or otherwise (throwing the fire extinguisher, improvising at the prosthetics lab for 5, trying to save luther in the club, running into the theater when they hear gunshots despite having no idea how to use his powers offensively, even in s2 when he finds allison at the protest) and I refuse to believe he would need to be pushed into trying to save vanya, who he has put his life at risk to save before.

The cult thing will be getting a post of its own because I have so many feelings about that whole deal but I again, am too incoherent currently.

I loved him and allison so so much, and he and vanya just break my heart together bc they are such opposite sides of the same coin and the show doesn't seem interested in exploring that whatsoever? I was a bit bummed to not really see him interact with the boys at all though. He and Diego seemed pretty close in s1, 5 and klaus have some good scenes together, and he and luther had some good interactions at the end of s1 as well, and i wish they had kept going with that.

It just feels like they were so busy with the others, and klaus got lost along the way. We do nothing with his powers except for the possession thing, like literally besides ben and the two ghosts at the very end of the last episode klaus doesn't use his powers at all during the entire season! I loved watching everyone else kind of come into their own, but that just never happened for klaus this season- if anything, he devolved.

And I think as a side effect of fucking up klaus, they fucked up his relationship with ben, and the other boys to a lesser extent, as well.

S1 ben and klaus is what i would expect from a pair of siblings stuck together for 17 years- nagging and sarcastic and judgemental but also loving and close and they work well together. They are both dumbasses who do things like play patty cake to test ben's tangibility, and decide that tossing a bowling ball is a good way to prove that ben is present.

S2 ben and klaus are entirely antagonistic; more in line with luther and diego in s1. I have seen lots of comments saying that anyone upset with ben and klaus's dynamic in s2 doesn't have siblings, and to that i have to say- people who think their dynamic in s2 is normal don't have abusive parents. There are lines that you absolutely do not cross, and comparing a sibling to your abuser is one of them. And you don't need to have siblings to know that dismissing the death of a loved one like, isn't a good thing to do? This is especially jarring given their relationship in 2019 and as children- there is no set up for this kind of behavior from either of them.

And the others were just so overall dismissive of klaus in a way that goes beyond just sibling annoyance. During the family dinner no one bats an eye when ben jumps into him, causes his body to jerk around, and literally says that he's ben?? He lies on the floor of the elevator looking like death and we don't so much as ask what's wrong? Klaus pukes out the contents of 7 fully grown humans practically and no one offers a tums, or a ride to the damn hospital?? Like wasn't diego a fuckin cop, he should know that none of this is the result of an overdose??? As far as i can recall,, klaus doesn't even use drugs in this season? We see him drink but that's it unless I'm forgetting, which is entirely possible since it is now 2am lmao. And they just play it off as jokes, we are meant to find this funny?

And just like, he wasn't involved in the actual plot of this season much, if at all, besides being a largely unwilling catalyst for ben. Nothing would change in this season if they had cut him out completely, and i really hate that.

I'm not upset at all really- despite sounding upset and writing a long ass rant lmao- the let down of one character doesn't ruin the season for me, and honestly, given how other shows have failed me this year (looking at you, the politician) , i count this season as a win overall. Luther especially has changed so much for the better, and he was probably the highlight of this season. I'm just bummed because klaus was s u c h a good character in season one, easily one of the most interesting characters, and they did nothing with him this season.

#tua season 2 #tua season two #tua #the umbrella academy #tua spoilers #tua rant #i had feelings im sorry #coherant breakdown coming soon lmao #tua salt #it's not really salt but also it is? idk #klaus hargreeves

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queenmylovely · 4 years

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Okay but concept: being surprised when ben says he has a crush on you because hes Like That with all his friends (especially after a couple drinks) like youve lost count of the times hes kissed your cheek or hugged you for no reason and yeah it makes you go all gooey whenever he does it but that's just ben! he's an affectionate dude! Except then he admits its different with you and idk man im just real deep in my ben feels rn and oh that boy will be the death of me

Okay, Brigid how dare you send this to me right when I was going to get ready for bed, bitch? Jk, i love it and ily and mayhaps was inspired to write a quick blurb about it.

Yeah, I wrote that before actually writing this and it’s 1.7k so it’s going below the cut. No warnings but fluff and awkwardness and cussing lol

Masterlist

☆☆☆

You could still smell the intoxicating mix of cologne, scotch, and cigarettes and feel the ghost of warm arms wrapped around your body when someone’s voice pulled you from your haze.

“Earth to Y/N,” Lucy said, waving a hand in front of your face.

“Huh? What?” you asked confusedly after batting her hand away.

“Well I was trying to have a conversation with my friend, until Ben came up to hug you and so rudely interrupted me. Then you turned all mushy ‘cause you’re in love with him,” she said dryly.

“Wh- I- I am not in love with him,” you sputtered out, having made the mistake of taking a sip of your drink as she spoke.

“You’re in love with him, you think he’s cute, same difference,” she replied and you were about to protest when she kept talking. “I don’t know why the two of you don’t get together, or at least fuck.”

“Oh my- because we don’t have feelings for each other that’s why,” you reasoned and she gave you a withering look. “…Well he doesn’t have feelings for me, is that a good enough reason for you?”

Lucy laughed, actually laughed at your question and you frowned in confusion. “Are you kidding me? You don’t think that that man- Ben- has feelings for you? How do you explain his touchiness and lingering hugs and kisses on the cheek?”

You shook your head at her and explained, “Ben’s just a flirty person. He’s like that with everyone, especially when he’s tipsy.”

“Bullshit. He doesn’t hug me like that, with his hands wrapped tight around you, squeezing your waist, and practically running a hand through your hair. And he only kisses my cheek and just barely when we say hello and goodbye. He kisses you for no reason all the time,” she countered, her gaze set evenly with yours.

You opened and closed your mouth a couple times, trying to find a response even as Lucy’s description of what your and Ben’s hugs looked like made you feel warmer than usual. Then you said lamely, “That’s just because you have Rami. He’s not going to be the same with someone who’s in a relationship.”

“Okay, if you’re gonna keep talking this shit, at least go get me a refill,” Lucy said, holding her empty glass up to you.

You rolled your eyes but smiled and grumbled out, “Fine,” before grabbing her glass and heading to the bar.

The bar was a much louder scene than the one the two of you were in at your little high-chaired table for two. There were people shouting at one another in conversation, clearly too drunk to realize they weren’t using the correct volume. Many were clamoring for the bartender’s attention to order more drinks and you cringed at the thought of heading into the fray. Lucky for you, you spotted four of your friends in a little group and walked up to them, catching them at the end of a conversation.

“Just do it, you coward,” Joe laughed before taking a shot and you saw all the other three down theirs as well. His comment had been directed towards Ben, and you assumed it had been about taking the shot. Since you had walked up behind him, you couldn’t tell what he had thought of the shot he didn’t want to slam.

“Hiya guys,” you said cheerfully, and three sets of eyes moved to you in synch. Joe, Rami, and Gwil’s faces cracked into smiles as they started laughing for some reason, just as Ben whipped around to face you.

Ben’s face immediately flushed, a side effect of the alcohol you mused, and he cracked an uneasy smile of his own.

“Hey, Y/N,” he said, his voice unusually high, but he still pulled you closer for a quick peck on the cheek as if he couldn’t help himself, and you felt heat spread from the point of contact across your entire face. Hopefully it wasn’t too noticeable.

“Whatcha up to?” Joe asked you goofily, nodding to the one practically full and one completely empty glass in your hands.

“Oh, I was sent to get a refill for Lucy. Apparently our topic of conversation requires some libation,” you joked, careful not to reveal anything specific.

“I can handle that, why don’t you stay and chat for a second?” Rami told you, grabbing the glass from your hand and walking up to the bar, somehow finding the one empty spot and getting the bartender’s attention right away.

“You know, I was just thinking I wanted to put a song on the jukebox. Help me find a good one, Joe?” Gwil asked, Joe nodded, and as they walked away together you saw them giggling and stealing glances back.

“Okay…” you said, taking one of their empty chairs to face Ben. You were about to make a comment about everyone’s strange behavior when you looked at Ben. His face was still flushed, and he kept glancing between you and his hands.

You reached out and placed a hand on his knee gently, “Ben, you alright?”

His knee tensed at your contact, and he looked at your hand apprehensively, so you started to move it away, self-conscious at having initiated the contact, but before you could completely, Ben grabbed your hand.

Looking up at him as you felt the warmth from his hand spreading up your arm and through your entire body, you waited for him to speak.

“Actually, can I talk to you?” he asked nervously.

“Of course, you can talk to me about anything,” you nodded, a little worried from his tone that something was wrong.

“…Do you wanna go outside for a bit? I can hardly hear my own voice in here,” Ben suggested and you agreed, following his lead out the door.

As soon as you stepped outside, you were hit with the temperature change. The bar had been hot and almost sweaty with all the people, but outside the air was freezing. You shivered, and rubbed your hands on your upper arms, hoping the friction would keep you warm.

“Oh fuck, I forgot how cold it is out here,” Ben said, after he turned back to you and saw your shivering form. He took off his overcoat and had you turn around, helping you to pull it on over your cute, but definitely too thin for the weather, sweater.

You turned back around, smiling at him for the friendly gesture. He smiled back at you, a dreamy look in his eyes at seeing you wrapped up in his too-big-for-you coat. The warm feeling it gave him distracted him from why the two of you had come outside.

“So…” you prompted, wondering yourself what you were doing out in the cold.

“Right, I’m supposed to be talking to you,” Ben said, shaking his head clear from those thoughts. “Basically, um, I just wanted to tell you– well, the boys told me to tell you– not that it’s not true or anything, I’m just kinda a coward and not good at this stuff– and I do want to tell you– I guess I think I’m trying to give hints or something, but, um, they told me that’s not enough and that I should just get over it and– I mean I’m just kind of nervous and I don’t, um, want to, uh, make anything weird– well, I’m–”

“Ben,” you said, interrupting his rambling lest he go on and on until the two of you froze. “Take a breath. I promise, whatever you’re trying to tell me will be alright,” you told him, trying to be a supportive friend through whatever seemingly troublesome thing he was trying to tell you.

He took your advice and breathed in and out in time with the guidance of your hands a couple times before he seemed ready. “Okay. What I’m trying to tell you is that I really really like you and have feelings for you, romantically. And I guess I’m hoping you feel the same way.”

You stared at Ben in shock, not moving except to blink a couple times in confusion. As you remained silent, Ben started getting a slightly panicked look on his face and lifted a hand to cover it slightly.

“Aw, fuck, I shouldn’t have said anything, now the whole group’s dynamic is going to be off–”

“Wait, Ben are you serious? Like, you’re for real?” you ask, interrupting him again and making him drop his hand to look at you.

“Serious about liking you? Yeah I’m serious about that,” he said a little sheepishly, dropping his gaze from yours.

“Like 100%, heart attack serious?” you repeated, the meaning of his words finally breaking through your shock.

“Yes, 100% heart attack serious, do we really need to drive this point furth– are you laughing?” now it was his turn to be confused and he looked back up to see you smiling and giggling. Even in his confused state he couldn’t help but return your beautifully contagious smile, “Why are you laughing?”

“Because, Ben, I’ve liked you for months, and Lucy just told me, like ten minutes ago, that you like me and I didn’t believe her,” you explained, taking a step closer to him, still smiling.

“She did? How’d she know? Did the boys tell her?” he asked you, skipping over the part where you said you liked him too.

“No, she said it was obvious with all the hugs and cheek kisses and stuff, but I didn’t believe her,” you admitted, taking another step closer.

“You didn’t?”

“No, I mean, you’re a pretty flirty drunk, Ben. Always giving and receiving those cheek kisses like no one’s business,” you said cheekily, taking one more step. “Then again, maybe I just notice it happening with everyone else because I’m jealous.”

“Jealous?” he asked, his voice higher again as you were now just one step away from being pressed up against him.

“Mhm,” you nodded, and you moved your forearms to rest on his chest, keeping one hand there but running a finger from the other hand along his cheek and jaw to his chin. Then you brushed the pad of your thumb ever so lightly along his parted lower lip. “Yeah I think I was just jealous because I wanted all of that attention, your lips on me, and my lips on you, and no one else’s anywhere.”

Ben’s hands found their way to your waist and he said, practically breathlessly, as he stared into your eyes, “That’s- that’s what I want too.”

“Yeah?” you asked, glancing between his eyes and lips and he moved closer and closer.

“Yeah,” he breathed over your lips, just before connecting his mouth to yours.

★★★

I’m also tagging because it’s practically oneshot length: @riseetothesun @caborhapch @drowseoftaylor @queenlover05

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yurtletheturtlehenderson · 5 years

Text

Scars That Heal || Eddie Kaspbrak x Reader Series

• Ch. 3: The Right Stuff •

I’ve been writing this for the past couple of days, wanted to have it ready for today. Happy Halloween! 🎃

×××

“Take everything but the Delicious Deals, guys,” Eddie instructed. “My mom loves them.

Richie was rifling through Eddie’s kitchen cabinet, Bill and Richie had stopped by Eddie’s house before their trip to the barrens. They figured they should grab some snacks beforehand.

Eddie watches, leaning against the kitchen counter.

"Hey! First, you said the Barrens, now you’re saying the sewer.” He said. “I mean, what if we get caught?”

“We won’t, Eds,” Bill assured. “The sewers are p-p-public works. We’re the public aren’t we?”

“Hey, Eddie?” Richie stood at the other end of the kitchen, a cabinet full of pills open. “these your birth control pills?”

“Yeah, and I’m saving it for your sister. This is private stuff.” Eddie retorted.

The boys closed all the cabinets and exited the kitchen. The TV from the front room was playing softly, Mrs. Kaspbrak was seated in her living room, watching.

“Hello, and welcome to the Derry Children’s Hour.”

“Eddie Bear,” the boys stopped, looking at Mrs. Kaspbrak. “where you boys off to in such a rush?”

“Umm…” Bill spoke up, already feeling the effects of his stutter. “J-j-just my uh, backyard, Mrs. K. I g-got a new…”

“A new croquet set,” Richie jumped in. “Jeez, spit it out, Buh-Buh-Bill”

“Okay,” she eased, her eyes drilling into the boys. “Oh, and sweetie, don’t go rolling around on the grass. Especially if it’s just been cut. You know how bad you’re allergies can get.”

“Yes, mom. Let’s go.” Eddie mumbled, and he began herding his friends out of the door.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?”

Eddie froze, and his friends hesitated. Shamefully, he turned and walked into the living room towards his mother who held out her cheek. Eddie planted a quick kiss and returned to the front door. He could see Richie and Bill stifling laughter.

“Do you want one from me too, Mrs. K?” Richie felt a harsh shove towards the door, and he chuckled. “I was kidding!”

The boys, now joined by Stan, zipped through the streets of Derry, wind in their hair. As they barrelled through the town, the Derry Public Library cropped up into view.

Inside, sat at one of the tables and thoughtfully scribbling on a postcard was Ben Hanscom. He had been mulling over the poem, trying to find the perfect words he could use that could possibly capture what he felt in his heart. Finally, when he had finished, he read the final draft in a hushed whisper.

“You’re hair is winter fire, January embers… My heart burns there too.”

His attention was brought to the windows when he heard muffled shouts outside.

“Slow down!” Said one voice.

“Hi-ho, Silver! Away!” Cried another.

He spotted four bikes cruising down the street, just in front of the library. The first voice cried out again.

“Your old lady bike’s too fast for us!”

The abrupt smack of the book as it hit the table echoed across the quiet library, his attention on the snippy librarian. Her glasses sat perched on the edge of her nose and she was staring judgmentally at Ben.

“Found it.” Her eyes squinted. “Isn’t it summer vacation? I would think you’d be ready to take a break from the books.”

Ben who was fiddled nervously with his fingers, shrugged. “I like it here.”

She blinked at his response and looked down at him distastefully. “A boy should be spending his summer outside with friends. Don’t you have any friends.”

Ben looked away, before speaking, avoiding all eye contact with the stingy woman.

“Can I have the book now?”

She gave the book a quick pat and left promptly. Ben breathed a sigh in relief and grabbed the History of Old Derry, opening it up.

He was constantly intrigued by his new town, and every time he could dig deeper into its history, he felt a little piece of the puzzle fall into place.

He flipped through the pages, eyes trained on the different pictures, scanning the captions but nothing, in particular, caught his eye. That is until he reached one photo in particular. It was a rather tall building, flooded with people of all ages, mostly children. What caught his eye was an old circus caravan.

It featured a picture of a clown. Some of it was cut off, but he could make out some of it. “Penny-” the rest was covered, and below it, he had gotten enough context to know it read “Dancing Clown.”

Below the picture, the caption read “Easter Egg Hunt celebration at the Derry Iron Work, April 3rd, 1908” Unbeknownst to Ben, a woman at the back of the library, turned to watch him. Eyes fixed completely on Ben, an eerie smile on her face.

Ben continued to flip through the book, fascinated. Another photo, this one of several kids, all holding their baskets of eggs. He turned the page, and featured on the next page was a photocopy of a newspaper, the Derry Herald. It read, “EASTER EXPLOSION KILLS 88 CHILDREN, 102 TOTAL”

He scanned the page briefly, his eyes lingering on the photo featured in the newspaper. Ben felt a chill run down his spine, still oblivious to the woman staring at him in the library. As he advanced further in the book, it only grew darker. Bodies were strewn all over the grass in the photo, captioned, “Bodies of those killed in Derry Iron Works Explosion, 1908”

Another page. This photo depicted a small crowd of people gathered around an old tree. “A gruesome discovery in the wake of the Derry Iron Works explosion, 1908”. Ben could not see the gruesome discovery he read about, and he was thankful. He turned the page again. Peculiar.

A slightly zoomed-in version of the previous photo. He turned the page. The same photo, only closer. Another page. Another photo of the branches. Frantically, Ben continued to flip through the pages, heart thumping. Sure enough, like a slow-motion animation, it closed in on the branches of the tree. Closer and closer and closer and-

A head. A boy’s head. An impossibly crystal clear photo of a boy’s severed head is caught in the branches. Ben felt his stomach lurch and he slammed the book shut, panting heavily. What the hell had he just seen?

His eyes trailed from the cover of A History of old Derry to a recent headline of the newspaper. “Body found by canal not Betty Ripsom” What the hell was wrong with this town? Ben stiffed when he heard a soft giggle, the slow tune of an old music box began to play. Slowly he turned.

Across the library, a bright red balloon was floating across the library, disappearing through a doorway. He rose to his feet and peered out the doorway, anxiety settling in his stomach. Perched on the steps was a smoking easter egg, charred and burned. For an unknown reason, Ben let his legs carry him down the hall, where he found another singed egg. And another. And another.

He now found himself in the library’s basement, where everything was stored in a maze of shelves. He picked up the egg, despite its charred exterior, it wasn’t hot. He could have sworn he heard shuffling down the hallway of shelves and he crept forward. Was the librarian down here, he wondered. She couldn’t be, the lights were off. Right on cue, the lights flickered on and off, a sickening pale green.

The lights flickered long enough for Ben to see a figure dart between the shelves. The room went dark once more and Ben beard a clatter from behind him. He turned around, and at the top of the stairs was the figure of a boy, maybe his age. It was hard to tell. Regardless, Ben watched cautiously as the figure took a few stiffened steps down the stairs one see step at a time. He froze, and Ben watched anxiously, his heart pounding. The figure took another step down, revealing to Ben that he had no head.

Smoke wafted from his neck and while he had no head, Ben knew somehow it was looking right at him. He had been holding several eggs to his chest, which he now dropped. The eggs hit the ground, splattering everywhere. The figure of the headless boy trudged down the stairs and froze briefly. And then it took off after Ben.

Ben sped down into the small maze of shelves, he could barely hear his own footsteps, let alone the footsteps of the figure over his pounding heart and heavy breathing. He cast a glance over his shoulder to see the figure running stiffly but swiftly after him. He made so many turns he lost count of where he was, much too frightened to paying attention to where he was going. He found that he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the figure chasing him, too afraid if he didn’t look he would sneak up and grab him. He looked forward just in time to turn the corner.

A taunting gravelly voice grabbed his attention, and he quickly glanced a final glance behind him to see a giant bulbous clown head on top of the boy’s once headless figure was right in front of him.

“Egg boy!” It said.

He felt himself collide with a figure and he stumbled back frightened. The figure he crashed into let out a startled gasp and dropped several books. It was the librarian.

She looked Ben up and down sharply. “What on earth are you doing?”

Ben spared a frightful look down the hallway of shelves, relieved to find nothing there. Still panting, in fear or exhaustion or possibly both, he had no idea. He looked the librarian in the eye once more and fled up the stairs, grateful to be caught where he shouldn’t have been.

After gathering his things, and his composure, Ben exited the library. He trudged across the grass, passing the stone monument, unaware of the spiteful mulleted teenager that had been waiting for him.

“Where you off to, tits?”

Ben took one look at Henry Bowers and fled. Unfortunately, he hadn’t made it far before one of his goons had been waiting for him and snatched him up.

“Gotcha.”

The Bowers gang had dragged a fighting Ben Hanscom several blocks to Derry’s infamous Kissing Bridge.

“Wait!”

“Fucking hold him!”

“Leave me alone!”

“Smack him.”

“Don’t let tubby get away.”

"Help!“

Laughter erupted from the vicious group of boys. Patrick Hockstetter had a hold on Ben, one of them had pulled Ben’s shirt up over his head, disorienting him. A cackling Victor Criss slapped Ben’s stomach teasingly and each of them got a shot at kicking, poking and shoving, in ignoring the boy’s cries of protest.

Ben felt himself get pinned against the side of the bridge. "Just leave me alone.”

“Look at all this blubber!” Exclaimed Belch, who ripped his shirt back down.

Ben looked around in fear, struggling against his attackers. The rattling of a can came from Patrick, who eagerly shook the can of hairspray as he stood in front of Ben.

“Let me light his hair, like Michael Jackson,” he said eagerly, flicking open his lighter and created a small bellow of flames.

“Just hold him,” Growled Henry, pushing him out of the way and Ben roughly by the collar.

“Get off me! Get off me!” Ben stopped shouting when he heard the low rumble of a car.

Everyone else quieted as well, watching a car slowly cruised by, the window rolled down. The gang expected to be stopped, but the car kept going. The couple inside contributed nothing but a passing glance, and Ben cried out for help.

The only kind of response he received, was the abrupt and unexpected form of a bright red balloon popping up in the window of the back seat.

Henry landed a right hook in Ben’s jaw and another. Ben felt his sense getting knocked loose and he grew dizzy, his ears ringing. Henry grabbed him by the head, shaking it vigorously as he yelled in anger and madness. His hearing came back in time to hear Henry seething threats.

“Okay, new kid. This is what us locals call the Kissing Bridge. It’s famous for two things. Sucking face,” he held up his pocket knife and suddenly unsheathed it. “and carving names”

Nausea washed over Ben and winced, shaking his head desperately.

“Henry, please,” he pleaded, shaking his head no.

Ben roared in agony, searing pain erupted ok stomach as Henry forcefully carved a large H on his stomach. Patrick cackled madly and Victor said nothing. Belch was the only one who became uneasy.

“Woah, woah! Henry!”

“Shut up!” He bellowed, spit flying from his mouth. “I’m gonna carve my whole name onto this cottage cheese!”

In one swift movement, Ben brought his leg up to Henry, kicking himself off and he tumbled over the side of the bridge. Grunting, he tumbled down the harsh slope, being poked and stabbed by various twigs but none of it came close to the pain of the mark Henry had left.

He could hear the angry cries of Henry, who was peering over the bridge. “I’m gonna cut your fucking tits off. I swear to God!”

He launched himself over the bridge and all his friends joined him. Ben jumped to his feet when he heard the rustling of the leaves up the hill he had just fallen. He turned on his heel, and sprinted into the trees, trying desperately to ignore the searing pain in his stomach every time he moved. Ben made several twists and turns through the trees, never allowing himself to stop.

Meanwhile, Henry and his friends had reached the end of the hill, and Henry began sifting through the dirt and leaves frantically. “My knife. My old man will kill me!”

Belch and Patrick watched, not knowing what to do. Henry looked at him expectantly.

“You two get him!” They fled into the woods after Ben and Henry turned to Victor. “Move your fucking ass!”

Ben could hear the approaching footsteps and voices behind him as he reached a fork in the path. He went down the left which lead him to the edge of the ferns at the edge of a creek. Patrick and Belch reached the same fork and they stopped. Patrick gestured for Belch to take the right while Patrick took the left.

Ben felt his socks dampen, as ran along the creek leaving the Bowers gang far behind him.

×××

“You holding up okay?”

Beverly had returned to the living room, now fully dressed in a maroon tank top and denim shorts, her usual key around her neck and her long red hair hung at the side of her shoulders in a ponytail. The two girls had scraped together as many ointments and bandages for Y/n’s leg.

Though they hadn’t had much luck. They couldn’t find a single thread of gauze and only half a foot of ace bandages. So Beverly did her best to clean the wound with a wet paper towel and applied some ointment. She found a spare white cotton cloth in the linen closet and wrapped it firmly around Y/n’s leg to stop the bleeding.

Once Y/n’s leg had been taken care of, they got to work cleaning the carpet as best as they could. Beverly took most of the trips back and forth to the kitchen given Y/n was still much too sore. When the carpet had been scrubbed within an inch of its life, the girls finally retreated to the couch and talked into the sun came up. They talked about anything and everything - aside from what Y/n had seen, still much too frightened to speak of it.

Beverly stood at the edge of Y/n’s living room, now fully dressed, looking at Y/n, trying to gauge her mood. She had not moved from her spot on the couch and she looked as if she was lost in thought, her eyes fixed on the barely visible pink stain on the carpet.

“Y/n?”

Snapping out of her daze, she looked to Beverly, still in a bit of a daze. “Hm?”

“Are you alright to get dressed, or,” she trailed off, not wanting to offend her friend but still offering her assistance.

“Oh, yeah, I’m good. Thanks,”

She pushed herself off the couch and limped lightly into the hall, passing Beverly and retreated into her room to get dressed. She winced at the pain that seared in her leg but she relaxed gradually. She was growing used to it.

Biting her lip and hissing slightly, she tried her best to step into her pair of overall shorts. She had almost gotten her leg in when she began to tip over. Thankfully she had landed on her bed, she used the advantage to slip easily in her shorts and sighed in relief, the hard part over.

Satisfied with her handiwork, Y/n grabbed her lowest pair of socks and shoes and joined Beverly back in the living room. Beverly had prepared breakfast for the two of them, a bowl of cereal for her and a [y/f/b] for Y/n.

Beverly smiled warmly, welcoming her back, but her eyes fell to Y/n’s ankle and she winced.

“We really need to get you some proper bandages,” She eased.

Y/n looked down at her leg to see the once white cloth was stained a deep crimson color and she sighed, looking back at Bev who offered a weak smile.

A yawn escaped her lips and Y/n felt a twinge of guilt for keeping her friend up all night. Beverly recognized the look on her face and she smiled.

“Don’t worry, Y/n it’s fine. Let’s just have our breakfast and then we’ll get you some proper supplies at the pharmacy. I was planning on making a trip there today anyway. You can come with me,”

×××

Stan, Richie, Eddie, and Bill were treading the edge of the water, Bill in the lead towards the sewers. Stan was gesturing all around him, a sure frown on his face.

“That’s poison ivy. And that’s poison ivy. And that’s poison ivy.”

“Where?” Eddie looked around, watching his step. “Where’s the poison ivy?”

“Nowhere,” Richie remarked. “Not every fucking plant is poison ivy, Stanley.”

Bill and Richie stepped into the large cement mouth of the sewer tunnels, Eddie and Stan refusing to cross the threshold. Eddie was shifting on his feet, growing antsy.

“Okay, I’m starting to get itchy now, and - and I’m pretty sure this is not good for my–”

“Do you use the same bathroom as your mother?” Richie quipped, cutting Eddie off.

“Sometimes, yeah.”

“Then you probably have crabs.”

“That’s so not funny.”

The flashlights crawled along the walls of the slimy sewer tunnel and Richie turned around to face his two hesitant friends.

“Aren’t you guys coming in?”

Eddie took one look at the murky water and shook his firmly. “Uh-uh. It’s greywater.”

“What the hell’s greywater?”

“It’s basically piss and shit. So I’m just telling you, you guys are splashing around in millions of gallons of Derry pee. So…”

The stick Richie had been carrying was swirled around the water before he brought it up to his face. He took a big whiff and Eddie used all his strength not to gag.

“Are you series? What are you-?”

“Doesn’t smell like caca to me señor!” Richie retorted in an accent.

“Okay, I can smell that from here.”

Richie smiled a toothy grin. “It’s probably just your breath wafting back into your face.”

Eddie scoffed heavily, shaking his head in disbelief and he tried desperately to contain his frustration. “Have you ever heard of a staph infection?”

Amused as ever, Richie grinned, waving the stick towards his friend. “Oh, I’ll show you a staph infection.”

“This is so unsanitary. You’re literally-”

The continued to bicker further and Stan rolled his eyes, already fed up with them.

“This is literally like swimming inside of a toilet bowl right now,”

Still grinning, Richie picked something up from the water with his stick and waved it around.

“Have you ever heard of Listeria? AHH” Eddie screamed in terror and jumped back slightly when Richie launched the sopping wet piece of garbage at Eddie.

He snickered at the boy’s reaction, and Eddie launched into another lecture. Bill, who was the deepest in the tunnels, had found a shoe floating in the water.

“Guys!”

The boys stopped bickering and looked to their friend. He was holding the shoe illuminating the dripping shoe with his flashlight.

Stan grew grave, and his voice broke as he spoke. “Shit. Don’t tell me that’s…”

“No. G-Georgie wore galoshes.”

Richie had joined Bill’s side and he peered inside the shoe.

“Who’s sneaker is it?” Eddie asked.

Richie turned, and looked back at his friend, trying to hide his shock. “It’s Betty Ripsom’s,”

An uneasy and solemn silence fell over them. All sense of mischief and jokes forgotten. Eddie let out a shaky breath.

“Oh, shit. Oh, God. Oh, fuck!” Stan watched quietly, silently shutting down and Eddie was still trying to cope with the discovery. “I don’t like this.”

Richie, who always reverted to humor as his coping mechanism, did just that.

“How do you think Betty feels?” He stood on one foot and hopped a couple of times. “Running around these tunnels with only one frickin’ shoe?”

Richie stopped when he saw the serious and frightened faces on his friends and he knew he went too far. At that moment, Stan spoke up, his voice wavering.

“What if she’s still here?”

V No one answered, but Bill and Richie retreated farther in the tunnels.

“Eddie, come on!” Richie urged.

“My mom will have an aneurysm, okay, if she finds out that we’re playing down here. I’m serious.”

Bill hadn’t acknowledged what anyone had said, this attention still focused on the murky waters below.

“Bill?”

He turned around a sad look in his eyes.

“If… If I was Betty Ripsom, I would want us to find me.” They all shifted uncomfortably. “G-Georgie too.”

Eddie, who couldn’t contain his discomfort, shakily spoke up.

“What if I don’t want to find them?”

Everyone looked to Eddie, shocked. Not surprised that he felt that way, but that he brought it up. Like some unspoken thought, they all had in the back of their minds.

“I mean, no offense, Bill, but I don’t want to end up like…” The name Georgie almost rolled off his tongue, and he shook his head feeling guilty. “I don’t want to go missing either.”

“He has a point,” Stan added.

“Y-y-you too?”

“It’s summer. We’re supposed to be having fun. This isn’t fun. This is scary and disgusting.”

The four of them gasped when a figure collapsed outside in the water. Stan and Eddie whirled around to see a boy gasping for breath on his hands and knees. He attempted to get back up but he fell once more. It looked as if this was the first time in a long while he had stopped to catch his breath. It was Ben Hanscom, but they knew him as the new kid.

Richie peered out of the tunnel.

“Holy shit! What happened to you?”

×××

“I think it’s great we’re helping the new kid but we also need to think of our own safety.”

The five boys emerged from the forest, there bikes bouncing slowly on the grassy terrain before descending onto the pavement. Ben had been offered the backseat of Bill’s bike, and the rest trailed behind as they made their way to the pharmacy downtown. As usual, Eddie was informing the group of the possible dangers of their current situation.

“I mean, he’s bleeding all over and you guys know that there’s an AIDS epidemic happening right now as we speak, right? And my mom’s friend in New York City got it by touching a dirty pole on the subway. And a drop of AIDS blood got into his system through a hangnail. A hangnail!”

The gang was now halfway to the pharmacy and despite his rapid speech patterns, his rant had lasted the majority of the trip.

By the time they reached the alley outside the pharmacy, Eddie was wrapping up.

“…and you can amputate legs and arms. But how do you amputate a waist? How do you amputate a waist? You guys do know that alleys are known for dirty needles that have AIDS, right? You guys do know that?”

Like their knack for tuning out Richie’s trash mouth, the rest of them had a knack for tuning out Eddie’s medical rants.

They parked their bikes in the alley, and Ben took a seat on some wooden crates, leaning against the brick wall.

“Ah, we’re screwed,” Mumbled Stan.

Bill and the others began retreating down the alleyway.

“Richie, stay wait here. Come on,”

Richie stood awkwardly with Ben, and he chuckled weakly.

“Glad I got to meet you before you died.”

Ben looked up at Richie, unimpressed with his joke and Richie shifted uneasily. And the unlikely duo waited in silence. Inside the pharmacy, Bill and Stan fell back, letting Eddie take the wheel. He grabbed nearly everything he could reach and in a few seconds, had a small pile packed against his chest.

Meanwhile, Stan and Bill had scoured their pockets for money, but all the two had managed to scrounge together was a measly three dollars.

“Can we afford all that?” Bill asked, referring to the small mountain of medical supplies Eddie was holding.

Stan held up the three dollar bills in his hands and shrugged. “It’s all we got.”

“You kidding me?” Eddie sighed, disappointed.

“Wait, you have an account here, don’t you?” Bill asked hopefully.

Eddie gave his friend an incredulous look.

“If my mom finds out I bought all this stuff, I’m spending the whole rest of the weekend in the hospital getting x-rayed.”

Two isles over Beverly stood facing the wall of feminine hygiene products. Y/n appeared from around the corner holding a small plastic bag of gauze and bandages that she had just paid for. She joined her friend’s side, noticing the indecisiveness in Bev and she quickly scanned the shelves. She finally found the familiar brand and grabbed a box off the shelf and handed it to Beverly. She took it and looked to Y/n.

“If you’re looking for comfort, this one’s your best best bet.” She whispered, smiling weakly.

Bev breathed a sigh of relief and sent her a grateful glance. Together, the two girls began treading towards the end of the aisle and around the corner. They both froze when they heard a familiar voice.

“See you later, Dad.”

They caught a glimpse of Gretta at the opposite end, closing up her bag and the two girls quickly shuffled to the safety of the next aisle before Gretta could spot them. Except for Y/n, who moved in more of a quick hobble.

They rounded the corner and found themselves face to face with three familiar faces. Beverly instinctively shoved the box of tampons behind her back before they could notice it. And Y/n had realized why the boys were so familiar.

One of them, she realized, was completely fixated on her. The smaller boy who held several first aid supplies held to his chest and when he saw her, a roll of medical tape slipped from his hand. But his wide eyes never left her.

Everyone stood there awkwardly for a moment before Eddie broke the silence. He smiled nervously at her and shifted a bit on his feet.

“Hey, uh, hi! I remember you, how’s the le-gaaahh…” his words spilled into a messy gasp as his eyes landed on her ankle.

By now, the makeshift white bandage was stained completely red, and it looked as if no more blood could possibly be soaked up.

Eddie tried desperately not to gag, though it was very difficult for him.

Bill looked between both girls before his eyes fell on Y/n’s leg, but he tried not to stare.

“Are y-you guys, okay?”

Beverly quickly responded, looking between Y/n and the boys, eager to divert attention away from the ox she held behind her.

“We just came to get supplies for her leg, that’s it. What’s wrong with you?”

“None of your business,” Stan snapped, sensing her abrasiveness.

“There’s a kid outside. Looked like someone killed him.”

During the whole conversation, Eddie had looked at Beverly maybe once. His attention focused on Y/n, and all his energy went towards not looking at her ankle.

“W-we need s-s-some supplies, but we don’t have enough money,” Bill said sadly.

Beverly frowned the familiar sinking feeling in her stomach. She didn’t want to, but she knew she had to. It was the only way she could think of distracting him and helping the boys. She looked anxiously at Mr. Keene and sighed. She gave one look at Y/n and lowered her voice.

“Go with them, or wait outside at least. I’ll be right out,”

Y/n recognized the look in her best friend and she quickly shook her head.

“Beverly, you don’t have to do this,” she whispered.

“Just go, I’ll be fine.”

Beverly took off past the boys and headed to the counter.

“Bev,” she hissed, but she ignored her.

Instinctively, she tried to follow her friend but she hissed in pain when she put pressure on her leg.

The boys immediately noticed her pain and Bill took a few steps forward, ready to catch her if she fell.

She caught herself before that could happen and Eddie shifted on his feet nervously.

“Do you need help with your ankle? I know first aid and I could help you after I helped the new kid?”

“Ew,” Y/n groaned, cringing.

Eddie tried to mask his hurt unsuccessfully, he looked down to his feet and his cheeks turned pink.

“A simple no would have sufficed, Jesus,” he mumbled.

“What? Oh,” she shook her head, “no, It’s Mr. Keene, ”

Y/n frowned, gesturing to Beverly at the counter.

Mr. Keene was looking Bev up and down, hungrily. The way he was smiling at her made her nauseous.

“Oh…” Eddie turned around to see what she was talking about, and Stan and Bill did too. “Oh.”

They watched Bev take off his glasses of her face, folding them up. While handing them back she “accidentally” knocked over the small shelf of cigarettes. Mr. Keene smiled weakly and bent over to pick them up.

“Come on, let’s go,” Y/n whispered quickly.

She was backing up, gesturing for the boys to follow her. But they were still staring at Beverly in shock.

“Now! Come on!” She hissed under her breath.

Beverly grabbed a pack of cigarettes that had landed on the counter, and Y/n realized the boys were never gonna figure it out in time.

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” rolling her eyes, she grabbed two of their wrists, her grocery bag hooked on one finger and began pulling them towards the door.

Beverly cast a glance over her shoulder, to see Y/n dragging the boys away.

The boys stumbled out of the aisle, tripping over themselves in the process. Y/n was dragging Eddie and Bill by their wrists and Stan had caught on. Eddie was taken aback, but he was mostly distracted by the fact that he was dropping his supplies left and right.

“Jesus, you’d think you never saw a distraction before in your lives,” Y/n sighed, releasing the boys.

Eddie scoffed, making a face implying he was going to say something but instead, he awkwardly looked away, words failing him.

“Alright, well…?” she looked between the three boys expectantly, they were all staring at her, waiting to see what she had to say.

She raised her eyebrows, not believing they had already forgotten about the injured kid.

“The kid? Bleeding out somewhere? We gonna help him or what?”

Shock washed over them and Eddie and Stan took off around the corner, and Y/n followed. Bill walked after them to the alley, seeming to linger by the entrance to the store to wait for Bev.

Y/n hobbled down the alley and by the time she got there Eddie was already knelt down in front of Ben. He was riling through his supplies, and Ben lifted his shirt.

Y/n noticed Richie Tozier had been waiting with the injured boy. Poor kid, she thought. When Richie saw her, he adjusted his glasses and smiled smugly.

“Hey, toots!”

Y/n plastered on an obviously fake smile and tilted her head. “Hey, dick.”

Letting the name roll off his back he smiled, Richie clicked his tongue and winked. “That’s my name, don’t wear it out.”

Despite her annoyance, a small chuckle escaped her mouth and she rolled her eyes. She was now looking at the kid who sat on some crates, the small boy tending to his wound. She winced, and took a seat next to him, relieved to get off her bad ankle.

“So,” she said simply, drawing the boy’s attention. “Whatcha in for?”

He tilted his head, clearly confused. She extended her bad leg and pointed to it.

“Bad leg,”

The boy’s eyes widened slightly and he looked back to her. “Some gnarly cuts. What about you?”

“Oh, uh, well same I guess.” He said, and she nodded.

"Just suck the wound.“ The two looked up to see Richie who addressed the smaller boy.

He immediately grew impatient, trying desperately not to get distracted.

"I really need to focus right now.”

“You need to focus?”

“Yeah, can you go get me something?”

“Jesus! What do you need?”

“Go get my bifocals. I hid ‘em in my second fanny pack.”

Y/n leaned forward, interested and slightly amused. “You have a second fanny pack?”

The other boy, who was standing near her nodded. “Yeah, why do you have two?”

“I need to focus right now and it’s a long story. I don’t want to get into it.”

Bill, who had been lingering at the end of the alley, heard the jingle of the store bell and he stepped back out on the sidewalk. Beverly was leaving the store and she walked towards him, knowing her friend must be nearby. Bill could have sworn timed slowed when she smiled. Nervously, Bill reached into his pocket, pulling out a couple of dollars and offered it to her.

“T-t-thanks.”

She held up a pack of smokes and winked. “Even stephen.”

Her attention was drawn to the voices coming from the alley.

“Oh, God, he’s bleeding! Oh, my God!” It was Stanley.

She saw Y/n and the boys crowded around a familiar face, she smiled fondly and headed their way. “Ben from soch?”

“You have to suck the wound before you apply the Band-Aids. This is 101!”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Ben looked up from the bickering duo and at the figure walking down the alley. His pulse quickened ever so slightly at the beautiful sight of Beverly Marsh.

“Are you okay?” She asked worriedly as she approached them. “That looks like it hurts.”

Ben shifted nervously and smiled. “Oh. No, I’m good. I just fell.”

Richie scoffed. “Yeah, right into Henry Bowers.”

Bill panicked, and shushed the boy, much to Beverly’s confusion. Y/n grew curious too.

“Why? It’s the truth.” Richie defended.

Beverly took a step forward, smiling coyly at Ben. “You sure they got the right stuff to fix you up?”

She winked and Ben felt his heart might explode. He smiled bashfully and looked down at the ground.

At that moment, the smaller boy had finished tending to him and had moved over to face Y/n’s leg. She hadn’t been paying attention and was surprised when she felt a tug on the cloth and she hissed in pain, drawing everyone’s attention.

Eddie hesitated and looked up at her apologetically. “Oh, sorry. This is okay, right? That I do this? It’s just that right now you’re exposing yourself to hundreds and thousands of bacteria and infection and this really needs to be checked out, so unless you’re on your way to the hospital anytime time soon, I really think I-”

Y/n chuckled and nodded her head, cutting him off.

“Yes! Yes, it’s okay. I’d really appreciate it,” she smiled warmly, growing fond of this kid already. “I’m Y/n, by the way. Y/n L/n.”

He nodded his head and for a moment he forgot how to speak. “Uh, Y/- Eddie. Eddie. I’m, Eddie. Kaspbrak.”

Amused, she watched Eddie get to work. She heard him mutter something about how he should have grabbed latex gloves, and he gagged when he pulled the cloth off her leg. Everyone’s attention was pulled back to her and Eddie when he held the blood-soaked cloth far away from himself. Tossing it a few feet away from himself, they heard it land on the pavement with a sopping wet slap.

Everyone, save for Beverly and Y/n, were shocked to see her actual wound. And poor Eddie looked as if he would faint.

“Oh, my God! Oh, my-”

“Holy, fuck!”

“S-s-shit,”

“That’s why we came here. All we could find was that cloth.”

“Oh my God, where’s the gauze?” He looked to Richie in a panic. “Where’s the fucking gauze?”

“Here take mine,” Y/n shoved her grocery bag at him and he took it gladly.

He unwrapped the gauze and applied several strips to her leg in order to cover each cut. She leaned down, placing her hand on some of them to keep them in place for him while he unwrapped the bandages.

“W-what happened anyway?” Bill looked between Y/n and Beverly.

Bev shrugged, and Y/n grew quiet, her eyes shifting around. “cat,”

Beverly frowned, clearly not buying it, knowing there wasn’t any cat around when I happened. Y/n met her eye, giving her. a look that screamed “Just please go with it,” And Bev let it go, for now.

“What kind of cat could’ve done that?” Asked the boy with curly hair.

Before Y/n could make up a lie, Richie jumped in, scoffing. “The bullshit kind, that’s what.”

Y/n gave him a weak glare, letting her eyes fix on her leg as it was being wrapped up.

“Thank you, Eddie.”

“Sure thing.” He was just finishing up applying the special ace bandage tape from her bag. “You’re all set.”

She gave him a warm smile and stood, wincing less. She smiled at the feeling. “It feels better already. Thanks again.”

He nodded and stood to his feet.

“Well, I guess we better get going.” Y/n said looking at Bev, who nodded.

“Uh, t-thanks again, Beverly,” Bill said, referring to her distraction.

She smiled. “Sure. Maybe we’ll see you around.”

“Y-yeah, we were thinking about on-going to the q-q-quarry tomorrow,” he looked to Eddie briefly with a smirk, before returning his gaze to the two girls. “if you guys wanna come.”

“Good to know. Thanks.” She replied.

Y/n joined Beverly by her side, her bag of supplies she had retrieved in hand, and smiled. “Yeah, maybe we’ll see you guys there.”

Her eyes landed on Eddie and he stood to his feet, much too fast. A pink hue dusting his cheeks. Y/n shared a nod with Beverly and the two were off, both of them casting a glance and wave at the group of boys before disappearing around the corner.

Stanley turned quickly on Richie. “Nice going bringing up Bowers in front of Beverly.”

“Yeah, dude, you heard what she did.”

Ben, who had remained silent on the cartons, spoke up curiously. “What’d she do?”

Richie smirked. “More like 'Who’d she do?’ From what I hear, the list is longer than my wang.”

“That’s not saying much.” Stan retorted, rolling his eyes.

Bill jumped in, his stutter got stronger. “T-t-they’re j-just rumors.”

“Anyway,” Richie continued, addressing Ben. “Bill had her back in third grade. They kissed in the school play. The reviews said you can’t fake that sort of passion.”

Ben’s heart sank, not in the least bit intrigued. And his sudden somber went completely unnoticed by the bickering boys. And somehow, all of them failed to notice the new figure painted behind the tire in the mural of the Bradley gang behind them. It was the pale white face of a clown, with a big crooked smile, and large tufts of orange hair and beady yellow eyes, right where Y/n’s head had been. It had been watching all of them.

+++

@seasidecrowbar @bevxmarsh @supernovawriting @readyforitbitch @classiprincess @edsloveshisrichie @sivords @ravenclawsprincess @pigwidgexn @kricketwritesstories @sweetpeasserpentprincess23 @plum-duels @edmunds-torch @eddiegaykaspbrak @rosi3e @welcome-to-derry @beepbeep-pennywise @candycorntroll @bibliophilesquared @ongaku-ato-kakikomi @cocastyle @peachysinnermon @mochibarnes @captainshazamerica @kaitlynjones12 @songbird-writes @traceylader @eggytozier @annimalq @lexylovesfandoms @russian-romanova @paigey-mcfreedomly

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not-the-cleavers · 4 years

Text

Target II - Chapter 5

I’m back with another chapter - still on alert for evacuation here but writing takes my mind off all the anxiety around this fire.

Underneath the chapter I have a little snippet of pure friendship that came up while writing this chapter!

Tags; @adrenaline-roulette and @amy-brooklyn99 - if you would like to be tagged just let me know

Pairing; Four x Eight (female reader) Fandom; 6 Underground Warnings; Swearing, smoking, drinking, reader kissing a girl (read that how you’d like in terms of sexuality), mentions of sexual acts (including non-consensual but only briefly I promise), mention of arousal and hinting at masturbation. Word count; 1.6k (total so far 7.9k)

Also I used an answer from this Ben Hardy interview in this chapter!

Summary; The team has moved onto their next target after dealing with Rovach Alimov, a war criminal named John Dough. Eight has just joined the team and is dying to show how much she deserves to be there

Catch up; Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

“You first, your number is lower than mine” I laughed. Four ran his hands through his hair again as a smile broke out across his face. “Alright I’ll start easy. What’s your favourite movie or movie series?” he asked. “Super easy! I love the Saw franchise” He laughed at my response “Hey I know that it’s not the best horror series but I love them” I said pushing his shoulder a bit. “If you could only listen to one song for the rest of your life, what would it be?” “Led Zeppelin ‘Thank You’ because it’s a beautiful love song, and everyone loves a beautiful love song.” “That’s kind of adorable” I sighed, why did he have to be so damn cute? “It’s super adorable I’ll have you know!” he laughed After a few easy questions surrounding hobbies, he blurted out “Tell me about your first kiss” “Not a question, but I’ll roll with it” I said gently mocking him “I was 14 at it was at a school camp a bunch of kids all entered our cabin and we played spin the bottle…” “Oh so a pretty boring story” Four interrupted “Will you let me finish? Mary King spun, and it landed on me, I thought she would just spin again, as were the rules laid out by the boys in the room, but instead she pulled me up and we kissed.” The look on Four’s face said it all. His mouth was slightly open and he looked like he was far off in thought. I waited patiently, sipping at my drink until he snapped out of it, finally he shook his head slightly and downed the last of the beer in his bottle before cracking open another one. “Tell me about your first kiss” I said lighting another cigarette, not giving him time to say anything in regards to my story. “Um, well, I was 15, down at the pub back home with some mates, drinking and smoking, being stupid kids really. In walked Ashley Reid, she was easily the prettiest girl in school and I had the biggest crush on her. We started dancing and having a good time and then all of a sudden she kissed me.” He said with a shrug, seemingly past the whole I kissed a girl thing. “What was your first sexual encounter?” he asked hesitantly, maybe testing the waters to see how I’d respond. But seeing as I’m a woman with zero shame I had no issue answering him. “Do you mean sex or messing around, those are two very different things.” “I guess just messing around” he shrugged. “I was 16 and I was at a high school party, I had been chatting with Scott Davis for quite some time and one thing led to another and I ended up giving him a blow job in the bathroom of this persons’ house.” I said sipping my drink, leaving out the fact I was blind drunk and he had basically taken advantage of me, I was trying to keep things as light as I could. “So…you’re not gay?” he asked, again very hesitantly “No” I laughed, ‘you have a shot with me’ I thought to myself. “Same question right back at you” “No, I’m not gay” he replied, laughing when he saw my pissed off expression. “You know what I meant” I half yelled, his laugher only making me angrier “You need to be specific love, and now you’ve lost a question” he patted my leg “Did ‘Jack and Jill’ ruin Adam Sandler’s career?” he asked, trying to calm me down by asking a pointless question. “Did he ever really have a good career?” I replied with a grimace, I couldn’t stand the guy. “Wait that’s not my next question!” I shouted, not about to lose another question to a technicality. “Good point, I guess you’re right there” he laughed. “Now you can ask the question you really wanted me to answer.” “Alright, have you ever done anything sexual in public?” I asked, slightly changing the question to catch him off guard. “Honestly, Ashley Reid when I was 15…” “C’mon don’t fuck with me, you can’t be serious” I slapped his bicep but his face told me he was in fact, being serious. “Yeah, after she kissed me we danced some more. When we got tired we sat down in a booth and she gave me a handy under the table. I had to run to the bathroom shortly afterwards and ditch my boxers. Went the rest of the night commando” he said jerking his head to the side slightly before taking another sip of his beer. Honestly was not expecting that response.

We kept going back and forth asking each other questions, going well and truly over the twenty question limit, but we were having fun. Our questions kept getting sexual and then easing back into being light hearted and funny and then back again, but as we got drunker the sexual questions became more heated. I could see Four was holding back so I piped up “I can see you have a question, I have no shame so go ahead and ask me” “Alright, do you have any kinks?” he asked, his eyes darkening slightly just waiting for my response. “Domination, tie me up and choke me…” I started rattling off a few things bound to get me hot and bothered while looking at my hands. I felt Four shift slightly to reposition himself on the bed next to me as I talked ‘am I turning him on?’ “Oh and I’m into pegging” I joked, which caused him to tense up. “Oh…” did he think that last comment was serious? I wonder how far I could take this, so I kept a straight face and asked him “what about you, what gets you going?” “Uhhh…” he scratched the back of his neck, seemingly considering whether or not to answer “You don’t have to say if you don’t want to” I told him, rubbing his arm. I didn’t want him to feel uncomfortable. “No it’s not that. I just haven’t really developed any kinks. I’m a pretty vanilla guy” he said shyly, his cheeks flushed in embarrassment. “Well there’s still time to work on that” I told him, trying to put his mind at ease. “How? I’m dead remember?” “There’s some people out there into that” I joked, causing us to collapse in a fit of laughter. My side felt like it was on fire but I didn’t care, I felt a complete sense of relaxation with Four that I had never felt with anyone else in my life. I found myself leaning against his chest, my body seemingly melting into his chiselled one. I had never noticed just how muscular he was, he was always wearing his hoodies, hiding his figure.

He eventually stopped laughing, and I felt his hand find its way under my chin, lifting it up so I was looking straight into his jade eyes. My eyes darted towards his lips right before those exact lips gently collided with mine. My hands flew up and my fingers knotted themselves into his blond locks. A slight moan escaped his lips. Without him breaking the kiss, he started to slide his leg underneath me and leant backwards so he ended up on his back. I rolled on top of him so that my chest was flush with his. His hands played at the hem of my hoodie, and I became acutely aware that I still had no shirt on underneath, but even with this sudden realisation, I didn’t stop him from snaking his hands underneath. The rough calloused skin on his hands felt unusually comforting against my hips. He only broke the kiss long enough for us to catch our breath and allowing me to steady myself above him, before crashing his lips back into mine. His urgency grew at the same rate as mine, and then I felt it, right against my thigh through both of our sweatpants, he was hard. His hands started to slowly travel up my back and I was loving every moment, that was until his hands made their way to my sides, causing one to land right on my healing bullet wound, causing me to jolt in pain breaking the kiss. “Fuck!” my eyes stung and the room felt like it was moving, I sat upright and moved myself off his lap. Four took a moment of realisation, before scurrying to check I was ok. “Shit Eight I’m so sorry, I don’t know what came over me” he said hurriedly, hiding his head in his hands, his face turning bright red in embarrassment. “Y/N” was my only response. “Sorry?” he lifted his head to search my face for some kind of clue. “That’s my name, I think we’re well beyond calling each other our numbers” I laughed weakly “Billy” he introduced himself “and I’m sorry, I crossed a line” he said sheepishly “Don’t be sorry, it’s just this fucking bullet wound. I was having the time of my life” I winked at him, causing his eyes to darken. “Look I, um, I think I should call it a night” Billy stammered. What the hell was he talking about? One quick look out the window confirmed that it was indeed late. “Holy shit, alright” I planted a quick kiss on his cheek “sleep well. Come see me again soon” I muttered. Within moments he was out the door, probably needing to go ‘take care’ of things.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And that’s chapter 5! I promise there will be more about John Dough in the next chapter, and again I don’t know when it’ll be out but I’ll release it as soon as I can! I hope you enjoyed this little chapter all about Four and Eight getting to know one another, maybe a little more than they were expecting! I’d love to hear from you guys!!

Also huge props to @adrenaline-roulette for all her help and for this glorious moment when I realised I’m shit at 20 questions!

Also yes I forgot the term “straight people” and went with non bi, you are allowed to judge me for that - also before anyone asks, the best way to describe my sexuality is Bi or maybe Pan (I don’t fucking know honestly, everyone is attractive to me!)...Anywho...This post has gone on for long enough, enjoy and I’ll catch ya in the next chapter!

#ben hardy #ben hardy fic #ben jones #6 underground #6 underground fic #four x reader #four x eight #billy/four #four fic

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coffeesandfilm · 4 years

Text

See you at the Crossroads, Crossroads, Crossroads

DISCLAIMER: I know Crossroads (dir. Tamra Davis, 2002) is iconic and Britney is an icon, and while I can appreciate its place in pop culture, I thought it would be interesting to analyse, and also to see what is says about American attitudes in the early 2000s.

Now even though this is a fictional story with fictional characters, Lucy Wagner (played by Miss Spears) is clearly meant to represent Britney herself. First we have to look back to the hazy days of 2002, when Britney had sexed up her image with the release of her third album, Britney (2001), featuring classics such as, “I’m a Slave 4 U”, “Overprotected”, and “I’m Not a Girl, Not Yet a Woman”. Despite its success, a lot of the public and media were unhappy with her pull from the ‘virginal, teen-idol’ image she originally embodied. She famously claimed at the start of her career that she wished to remain a virgin until marriage, and boy, was she ever allowed to forget it. Subsequently, she was constantly hounded by the press to see whether there was any update on this front, and if not it meant people could continue their creepy Lolita-esque fetishisation of her. I suppose this film was Britney’s way of breaking free, and telling the world that she was not that girl in the school uniform anymore, but becoming a young woman in her own right (hence the song title) without being too direct and completely alienating her audience.

To briefly summarise the plot, Lucy (Britney), Kit (Zoe Saldana) and Mimi (Taryn Manning), are three former best friends who now move around in completely different social circles, and are on the verge of graduating high school. As children they buried a chest which featured a treasured belonging from each of them, with the promise that they would meet up and re-claim these tokens after graduation. When the time comes, they begrudgingly agree to meet up once more and do what they promised, with the nostalgia fuelled by re-claiming these belongings inspiring Kit and Lucy to join Mimi (and some random guy) on a road trip to California. Mimi wanted to go to an audition in L.A, Kit wished to go to visit her fiancé, and Lucy wished to be dropped off in Arizona to meet her mother, who walked out on her family when she was young. The random guy who gives them a ride is Ben (Anson Mount), who later becomes a love interest to Lucy, and who she eventually loses her virginity to. As expected the girls have their ups and downs, but ultimately bond becoming closer than ever by the end of their trip, realising how important their friendship is. There are other themes and side storylines included, but more on that later.

You simply cannot watch Crossroads today without appreciating how of its time it is, the 2000s fashion trends, the clichéd high school dynamics, and of course, prime Britney. The three girls are American high school caricatures of sort, Kit is the bitchy but beautiful Queen Bee, Mimi is the edgy bad girl, who is also 5 months pregnant, and Lucy is the sweet, nerdy girl that most of the boys do not notice (yeah right Brit). Lucy’s father (played by Dan Aykroyd, which was a choice) is the stereotypical firm but loving single-dad who works a blue-collar job as a mechanic and has no time for 'anybody's nonsense’. I also enjoyed how Britney possessed the knowledge of a professional mechanic simply through her father being one, pretty standard teen movie logic of course. The girls jamming along to N*SYNC’s “Bye, Bye, Bye” in the car was pretty on the nose too, especially as Britney was still dating Justin Timberlake during this period, but ultimately this is what makes the movie so fun and nostalgic.

In spite of this, I cannot deny there were certain elements of the film that rubbed me the wrong way. Mimi reveals that she became pregnant through the result of rape by a man who took advantage of her when she was drunk, which in itself I believe was a very brave and progressive plot line to include in the film, and the scene itself was heartbreaking and very well done. What I thought was ridiculous was the fact that this was apparently the first and only time Mimi had been drunk, and of course she had to get punished for it, resulting in her rape and pregnancy, a questionable lesson to teach young girls I think. It is a not so subtle way of saying that, girls partying = bad, I am not denying that safety concerns surrounding partying exist, but there were other ways they could go about it. Of course the question of abortion never even arose within the film as that would be too controversial, the closest we got to her giving up her baby was adoption, and she did not even want to do that. The worrying fact is, is that Mimi being raped is less controversial and more digestible than the concept of abortion, which in my opinion, are some very backwards and conservative priorities to preach. Ultimately as the baby was a product of rape, and Mimi was a teenager, she was never going to be able to keep it in teen movie world, and I was waiting to see how she would lose it. Whilst fleeing a confrontation from her rapist (who turned out to be Kit’s fiancé in a shocking twist of events) she trips down a block of stairs, resulting in her admittance to hospital and miscarries. Whilst still under care, she confides to Lucy that she “decided to keep her” baby before the accident, solidifying the film’s pro-life stance and the idea that she was conforming to motherhood. Everything concerning Mimi’s situation is completely violent and horrific, and to be honest, pretty downright cruel to her character, but ultimately this was still seen as a more acceptable option to abortion. I think this period of time represented a more Conservative America, with post- 911 sentiment resulting in more traditional, Christian values being re-introduced. Even though this film may seem somewhat boundary pushing initially (when dealing with topics such as rape and sex), its whole direction and morals are drenched in Conservatism, which are quite prominent tropes in the American media.

If I had to do a rundown of the three most ridiculous parts of the movie it would be:

1. Ben having a mini fit because the girls kindly decide to drive his car when he falls asleep at the petrol station. He makes them pull over and starts shouting at some rocks, proclaiming how his car is “the only thing that hasn’t been taken over by chicks”, one of the most fragile things I have ever heard, and one of the most unwarranted reactions ever.

2. When Lucy’s father confronts her about running away from home, going on a road trip across the country with basically no communication, no money, and with a random stranger, all she has to do is say ‘sorry’ and he forgives her immediately, saying “you made a mistake, everyone makes mistakes, you’re forgiven”. Yes he literally says “you’re forgiven”, a shockingly quick resolution and not the greatest writing in the world.

3. The most cringe-inducing part of the film would be the climactic romance scene between Ben and Lucy. In a heartwarming moment Lucy reads Ben a very personal poem she wrote, which ends up being the lyrics to the song “I’m Not a Girl, Not Yet a Woman” in spoken word form. It is pretty difficult to take seriously, but then again the whole film is difficult to watch if you take it too seriously.

On a more positive note, I thought Lucy losing her virginity was pretty tastefully done. I mean, it was a fairly standard teen movie scene, but I liked how it was not with some random guy who she had met 30 minutes earlier, or with some ex-boyfriend who she was secretly still harbouring feelings for. She lost it to some guy who she met on a road trip who she gradually developed a crush on, sure they were probably not going to get married and be together forever, but that is standard teenage life. I also appreciated how her deadbeat mum who ran out of the family when Lucy was young (played by Kim Cattrall), remained her deadbeat mum. There was no magical reunion, no moment of enlightenment, her mum was just weak and undeserving of Lucy’s love, which in itself is a difficult pill to swallow. In a way, I thought this was even more progressive than the inclusion of rape, teen media usually preaches Conservative values and the glorification of the nuclear family to its audience. Lucy attempted to reunite her nuclear family, but the film dismissed this notion, and she learnt that the family she already had: her, her father, and her friends, were just as much a family without a mother figure.

All in all, yeah the film is far from perfect, it was never going to be a an Oscar contender, though I doubt that it was ever its intention. Sometimes a silly fun movie is just a silly fun movie. Britney proves her star power once again, and I was very impressed by her acting, going so far to say that she was the best part of the film. I cannot deny that watching the film makes me feel a ping of sadness, especially as we know what happened to her a few years later, but this film helps keep her legacy alive, and as someone who grew up idolising her, seeing happy Britney will have a special place in my heart.

#britney spears #crossroads #zoe saldana #taryn manning #kim cattrall #dan aykroyd #anson mount #crossroads 2002 #i'm not a girl not yet a woman #overprotected #britney #tamra davis #i'm a slave 4 u

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thebulletinhamilton-quotes · 4 years

Note

(Let’s hope I did this right XD ) For a Halemadge one shot may I please have the “i’ve been stood up again and i’m angrily texting my friend who set me up with this loser and you ask if you can join me since you were going to eat alone anyway because you’re new to town“ prompt under the Blind date tag? If you could make it a little angsty / feels-y that be wonderful but no pressure. (Doesn’t matter who ‘s what part) Thank you! @regretless-spy-and-culper-master

A/N: JESUS ITS ALMOST BEDTIME FOR ME GOOD LORDY. Hope you enjoy it. I have no idea if it is angst or not cause I prefer to write my feelings first then tell the story. TURN plays on in the background with aesthetics and Benjamin Tallmadge’s tight pants. Anyway, enjoy!

Moving to New York City had seem like such a good idea. Instead, it turned out to be one of the worst ideas Benjamin Tallmadge has had since he was a kid. No, scratch that. Even a kid wouldn’t behave so irrationally.

The thing is, life in New York City did not turn out the way he planned.

His original plan had been to move there with his friends but that didn’t work out. So now, he’s living with a roommate named Tench Tilghman (who for some reason wears a trench coat all the time) who is a born and raised New Yorker. Who recently discovered that Ben is single and decided to make it a personal mission for him to set him up as on many blind dates as he can (much to Ben’s dismay). But thanks to a loophole....

Ben combs his hair one last time, looking over his delicate features in the mirror. Despite his heritage, he’s good looking if not a little pretty boy (according to the bullies back in middle school) feel. He grabs his Yale sweatshirt and jacket before running out the door as Tench tries to tell him about a date. But Ben is too quick for that.

As he walks the brightly lit, commercially decorated cluttered streets in early December, he assures himself that he’s fine and everything is good. Life couldn’t be better, he tells himself, as he walks across the street. Life couldn’t be sweeter than this. He thinks to himself with a smile.

Nathan Hale doesn’t do blind dates for a reason. It’s like going into a restaurant, completely blindfolded and at the mercy of someone else. It’s scary, it’s vulnerable and—

“Are you ready to order, sir?” A bored, Brooklyn accent cuts through his thoughts as he looks helplessly up at the bored waitress who cocks an eyebrow at him.

He’s been here for fifteen minutes and the restaurant is packed to the brim. The door keeps on opening as couples and groups of people come in, hoping to be seated at Burr’s Durr, a fushion restaurant that incorporates every flavor imaginable in their food.

He smiles weakly up at the waitress with blue hair and dark brown skin who looks at him unamused. “One more minutes.” He promises her as she sighs sympathetically at him. She gives him a look of ‘that’ll be it, I mean it’. He nods weakly as she walks off.

He covers his face with his hands and for a moment, he feels like he could either scream or punch a tyrannical doofus. Either way, his date is not coming and he’s going to be eating alone tonight. Again.

This is the last time I let Abe talk me into going on a date I swear—! He promises himself before a stranger sits down across from him. They dazzle smile at him, and for a moment Nathan forgets how to breathe. He runs a hand through his frizzy hair praying to whomever that his hair is not a mess because oh god this stranger has him feeling helpless.

He attempts to smile back at him with a grimace but the stranger winks at him before opening the menu, as their smooth baritones hit his ears. “What should I go, I don’t know what to get.” They ponder out loud. Nathan has to fight back a laugh before he’s able to answer their question.

“I would get the Hamilton special.” He tells the pretty individual who looks up at him as he tells him so. “It’s good,” he hears himself promising. “It’s one of my favorite dishes.” He tells the guy, who’s smile makes him want to fall apart.

The stranger hums. “Well, if that’s what to get then sure.” He seems to smile even brighter at Nathan as Nathan can hear his own heart going ba-thump, ba-thump. Thankfully, their waitress must sense that they are finally ready.

She smiles at them, before turning her gaze to Nathan, hard. “What can I get you, sir?” She asks him first, her tone is sweet with a hint of ‘don’t mess with me’ undertone.

Nathan clears his throat, aware that’s his entire body is on fire as the stranger and the waitress stare at him. “I’ll have the Hamilton special, please.” He tells her, his voice shaking slightly.

She joys it down, nodding at him. Then before he can blink, she turns to the stranger who smiles at her with ease. “I’ll have the same as well, gorgeous.” The stranger says with an air of confidence Nathan wishes he had.

The waitress takes the menu from them with a nod before turning to Nathan. “It’ll be out soon. Please let me know if you need anything else.” She says before walking away with an air of urgency.

It’s an awkward ten seconds as Nathan and the Stranger stare at each other. Thankfully, it’s the stranger who breaks their silence.

“Sorry for hijacking your date. I saw you sitting by yourself and you looked ready to pass out. I didn’t mean to intrude.” He says, his voice is apologetic. “I’m really sorry, if you want I can leave—“ the cute stranger begins. Before Nathan can stop himself, he quickly shakes his head.

“No, it’s fine. Really, thank you. I appreciate it, man.” Nathan rushes out with a smile at him. The guy looks at him, a little surprised. “Well, if you’re sure?” He asks, like Nathan might tell him to yeet out a window.

Nathan nods his head, slowly as he takes a sip of water. “I’m sure. Besides, you’re way cuter than any of the guys I go out with.” Nathan jokes before seeing him laugh while looking away. His face is flushed. Oh lord, he could be at least a second date. Nathan observes quietly.

Nathan holds out his hand with a smile. “I’m Nathan, by the way. What’s your name, man?” He asks easily, like he doesn’t have butterflies in his stomach.

The stranger takes his hand and shakes. “Benjamin but I go by Ben.” He says with a grin. “Only my mom calls me Benjamin.” He shakes his head with a chuckle.

Nathan nods before letting go of Ben’s smooth, warm palm. He cringes at himself as he stares at another dudes palms like c’mon. He’s not going to stare at this dude, at the very least they can get to know each other.

“So what brings you to town? Tell me about your adventure to the greatest city in the world, man.”

There is no harm in that, right? He thinks to himself as Ben explains that he’s new in town and his only friends are his coworkers and a roommate who is quite nosey. We are just two people getting to know each other. This isn’t a date. Nathan thinks as Ben explains how his adventure began.

Right?

....

Fin.

...

Hey guys please reblog and reply. Feedback is Bae. Also to those who would like this request, send it to my inbox PLEASE. Otherwise it gets lost in the posts and i forget. Thanks @regretless-spy-and-culper-master for the ask!

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wonwoosthetic · 5 years

Text

Not Only In Love With His Car | Part One || Ben Hardy!Roger Taylor

MASTEERLIST is linked in my info box - I can’t put links on individual posts at the moment, otherwise they won’t show up here!

PART TWO also on my MASTERLIST

SO, I don’t know if I should try to excuse myself or not, but I just want to say that I’m incredibly thankful for every single one of you and to see that people still read my imagines and follow me although I haven’t been as active as I would have liked to!

THANK YOU!!!! <3

Just so you know, I combined two requests because I added one thing that changed the story slightly, I hope that’s okay. Don’t worry, I will write a lot more imagines about each of those amazing men because I love them! :)

Request: Hiii! Could you maybe write a R.Taylor (B.Hardy) x reader fanfic,maybe like they are secretly dating and the other members find out about it ? But if you don’t like the idea,you don’t need to.Basically,I it can be anything with R.Taylor

Request: Please can you write a Ben Hardy Rodger Taylor fic. I don’t have anything idea in particular so you have all creative control. I am just dying for more Ben Hardy imagines

Not Only In Love With His Car

— 3rd Person —

“What? Why?” Brian was just as confused as his two other friends that were staring at Roger with questioning looks on their face. “She wants to write her thesis about us. About… our story”, the blond explained. John spoke up, “But we don’t have a story to tell.” Roger pointed his finger at the bassist, “Not yet.”

The drummer was trying to convince his band members to let his “best friend” travel with them to the new recording studio, to spend more time with everyone since she apparently wanted to write her thesis for university about Queen. Brian was yet to be convinced, John was partly okay with it, and Freddie was sure there was more behind it but had not participated in the conversation yet.

“What do you think about it, Fred?” The guitarist turned to the lead singer. He shrugged and put his right hand on his hip, “I don’t think it’s such a bad idea. The people should know what we did.” A proud and wide grin started forming on Roger’s lips, as Freddie sent him a wink. “Alright”, Brian didn’t sound too excited about the idea of having a female on board – distraction and stuff - but he knew, this argument was not his to win.

The truth was, Roger really just wanted to spend more time with his girlfriend of nine months. He hasn’t been the best boyfriend, that he would have liked to be, for the time they’ve been together – he felt as if he has been putting their relationship second, more times than acceptable. Though, his girlfriend was completely fine with his jump-starting music career and hasn’t even complained once, still… Roger has felt the guilt coming up and wants to change that. He wants to be the boyfriend every girl dreams to have. The only problem here: the rest of the band doesn’t actually know about the secret relationship their friend has been having – hence why it’s secret. Thankfully, this secret girlfriend is studying Journalism and has to find a bombing story for her thesis - what would be better than the story of Queen. She, more than any other person, was convinced, that the band was going to have its big breakthrough and would be soon touring through continents.

--- 2nd Person ---

It was you, Deacy, Brian and your boyfriend in one car, whereas Freddie and Paul, who you have learned to dislike slowly but surely, were driving ahead of you to the "recording studio". Holding Roger's hand in the back of the car, was the only thing that didn't keep you from completely losing it and having a panic attack from the excitement building up. "Thank you, again", you whispered into his ear. "You've said this exact phrase at least thirty times in the last twenty-four hours. You're absolutely welcome." Thankfully, the two other band members were in the two front seats, not able to see what was going on in the back between you two lovebirds. Driving up to an even dirtier road, only mud and more mud, the car came to a sudden hold. You took a glance outside the window, "Where are we?" Brian turned the car off, took the keys in his hand and opened the door, "Our studio for the next couple weeks... maybe months." Before following his action of getting out, your head turned back to your boyfriend who had just the same facial expression on his face as you - confusion. Freddie was already walking all over the place, checking everything out while Paul was taking out the luggage, ready to get them inside of the house. You were surrounded by the smell of... farm - that's the only thing that came to your mind. Roger was throwing sceptical glances all over the place, "Recording studio?" The other man carried two bags into the house, "Well, the idea was to get away from all the distractions." You, standing next to your boyfriend, spoke up next, "In Freddie's defence...", you looked around, taking it all in, "You do get away from all the distractions because there's literally nothing here." Roger nodded in agreement, eyes wide open.

All of us decided to follow Paul inside, carrying our own stuff after noticing that Paul only put the lead singer's bags in the house. Before being able to put them down, Paul motioned for you to follow him further up the stairs - he tried to keep the mood light by making some jokes... it didn't work. "Roger, you're in here", he showed the blond to his room, getting a quick, "Alright", as a response - and then he was gone. "Freddie, this is you, biggest room. Brian, that's you", he stood still in the middle of the small hallway upstairs. Paul clapped his hands and shot you a look, "Yeah... (Y/N)... ehm... I was going to ask you, but probably forgot... you would be taking the living room. Is that okay?" "Yeah, of course", you truly were completely fine, yet your boyfriend wasn't, "Nah, she's gonna stay with me, the bed is big enough to fit three people in." Our "guide" nodded in agreement and left to show Deacy to his room... in the basement - how nice of him. You walked over to the blond head, "Roger, do you want to be any more obvious?", "What do you mean, obvious?" You only gave him a 'you-know-what-I-mean'-look as he kept on talking, "They won't suspect anything, come on", with a really hot head nod, he told you to get into the room, not caring if one of the members had seen it. Roger threw himself on the bed, bouncing right back up, making the both of you laugh. "Well, that's gonna be interesting to sleep in", he smirked, looking up to you. "It's not that bad", you tried making the situation of the actually quite... shit room at least a bit better. The drummer's grin only got wider, "I didn't mean bad, but loud", and with that, he grabbed your wrist and yanked you on the bed as well, making you fall on top of him, a loud laugh escaping from your lips - Roger's heartbeat sped up. His arms were tightly wrapped around your neck, nuzzling his face on top of your head, while your arms found their way around his waist. "You can't believe how happy I am to have you here." Your head turned upwards, looking him directly into his eyes - the only thing you saw was pure love and adoration. Not wanting to give him a verbal answer, you planted a kiss on his lips instead.

--- Later That Night ---

You woke up in the middle of the night by the sound of an angelic voice coming from, what sounded like, the attic above you. "Love of my life...", Freddie sang silently to himself, you thought. A smile formed on your lips, just hearing his voice made you happy. Your boyfriend's arms were tight around your waist as if he was scared you would leave him. You tried going back to sleep, using the singing as a soothing to make you sleepy, yet you were way too nosy not to go and check up on the lead singer - you promised Mary to keep an eye out for him. Carefully, you took Roger's hand and draped it over on to his side. He started turning away from you, his arm now close to himself. The squeaky bed was the next problem. Getting up from it was like trying to break into a museum and avoiding all of the red lasers. As soon as you stood up straight on your feet, you collected a bra, shirt, pyjama sweats, and a pair of socks that were still in your suitcase since you didn't really get time to unpack it. After putting everything on, you opened the bedroom which was almost as squeaky as the bed. Thankfully, the stairs to the attic were not far from the room you were sleeping in, so you were able to hopefully not disturb anyone. Walking up, you started hearing two voices instead of only Freddie's. A couple steps up, you were able to peak into the room through the railing. It was a quite dark lit room with a lot of instruments all over the place and even a sofa, where... Paul was sitting. You scrunched your eyebrows together in confusion, watching him get closer to the singer, putting out his cigarette. Fred tried looking away, acting not to seem interested. All of a sudden, in the short moment that he looked up from his notes, Paul smashed his lips onto the other man's. A gasp escaped your lips, going unnoticed by the two. Your hand flew to your mouth, shutting yourself up. Your heart was beating uncontrollably, not understanding... rather, not wanting to believe, what you had just witnessed. As the thought of Mary shot in your head, tears started forming in your eyes. You had known Mary for as long as you had known Roger - very long. Not even wanting to imagine the pain she would be in if she knew what had just happened right in front of your own eyes. After trying to calm yourself down as much as possible, you made your way back to your shared bedroom. Silently tiptoeing back and closing the door behind you. "Where'd you go?" Roger's spoke up from his lying position looking up at you in the dark. You jumped up, "Oh gosh, you scared me, I thought you were asleep." You crawled back into the comfort of the sheets and your boyfriend's arms. "I was until I noticed you were gone", "Sorry Rog, I didn't want to wake you up", you excused yourself. "Where were you?" Even though you hated lying to him and wanted to tell him about what had happened, you couldn't - you couldn't do that to Freddie. Therefore, your answer was simple: "Just the bathroom." The blond led it slide, too tired to hear if you were telling the truth or not and went back to sleep peacefully now that you were back in his arms. You, on the other hand, were absolutely not able to sleep in any peaceful way. The shame, the guilt, the sadness, everything was swelling up inside of you, making it impossible for you to fall asleep for the following three hours.

--- The Following Morning ---

The sun, a cold feeling, but most importantly, shouting woke you up. Opening your eyes, you saw it was finally the morning. Turning around, you couldn't see Roger anymore, but by taking a look at the hanging clock on the wall across from you, you instantly knew why - it was ten o'clock and Roger was never the one to truly sleep in. The happenings of last night shot back into your mind, making you wince. After not being able to fall asleep, you came to the conclusion to confront Freddie. You didn't hate him for what happened, neither were you ever going to hate him, but still... he had to tell Mary - and that was what you would tell him. The shouting became louder, so you decided to get up properly and take a look downstairs. The first thing you heard as soon as your feet hit the ground floor was your boyfriend's voice, "You call me sweet like I'm some kind of cheese." Which was followed by Brian's mumbling. You entered the kitchen where all of the shouting voices came from and came to sight with Roger turned towards you, Brian and John's backs facing you, and Freddie in the corner. "When my hand's on your grease gun. It's very subtle", the guitarist read out loud, making you chuckle. "It's a metaphor, Brian!" Your boyfriend defended. John spoke up next, "It's just a bit weird, Roger. What exactly are you doing with that car?" You decided to step in, seeing that Roger was just about to explode, "Good morning guys." All of their heads turned into your direction, smiling and each one of them giving you a "Good Morning" back. The drummer let a little "Morning, babe" slip, and only Freddie noticed it. You walked behind the counter, arms crossed, and stopped right next to your secret boyfriend, "What's all of that shouting about?" Roger had already prepared a cup of coffee and handed it to you. "Rog wants his song to be on the album", the bassist explained. "And what's the problem with that?" You questioned in confusion. "I'm in love with my car." Brian's answer made you choke on your coffee. "What?" With raised eyebrows, you turned your head to the blond. "It's a metaphor!" He shouted once more. Freddie tried calming everyone down, but John had to make a comment about how most bands don't fail but break up. You shook your head, not believing what was happening - they were fighting like children. Your eyes drifted from one member to another one, following whoever was talking, well... still shouting actually. "Roger, there's only room in this band for one hysterical queen", was Fred's only response before exiting the room, stepping outside into the fresh air. You contemplated whether or not to follow him, but something flying right in front of you into Brian's face, followed by, "Is that strong enough?!" "Roger!" You shouted at him, coming to the realisation that it was him that threw it. He looked for more things to throw around and eventually even found the probably most precious thing in the entire kitchen.

"Not the coffee machine!" John, Brian, and your voice echoed through the room at the drummer. You needed to take it into your own hands, "Guys, please! You act like little kids, calm down, it's just a song. You can talk-", you got cut off by Roger storming out of the room. A sigh left your lips. You knew, following him now wouldn't be the best decision, therefore you decided it was time to confront Freddie, but not before talking to the other two men, "Why can't you guys just... just let him have that one song." Brian spoke up, "Just because it's about you, doesn't mean you need to defend him. It's just not good." Your heart stopped for a second, "What? About me?" Now it was John's time, "Oh, come on as if we don't know. If he was actually talking about his car like that, we should be worried about him. And you're the only girl we ever got to meet. And please, oh my god, don't let me get started on how he talks about you." He shook his head drastically with a smile on his lips. Brian smirked at you, "He's not only in love with his car." You tried avoiding their eyes, looking around the room with your arms crossed, "Still... maybe it's not as bad." And with that you left the room, ready... well, not ready but having to confront Freddie.

Just as you walked outside, the guitarist's voice echoed, "It is!" making you giggle a bit. You weren't able to keep that emotion though, as you came to face with the dark-haired man's back. Your footsteps, which you made by wearing Roger's shoes that were right next to the door, were heavy and loud due to all of the mud and made Freddie turn around. "(Y/N) everything alright again inside?" "What do you think?" You smiled kindly at him which he returned. As you got next to him, he pulled out an open pack of cigarettes, offering you one - you declined, "I don't smoke, but thank you?" He looked at you curiously, "Why not?" And you shrugged your shoulders, "Just never been into it, I don't mind it though." He nodded with a smile. Before really getting to the subject as to why you came out here, you took a deep breath, "Freddie...", his head turned to you, "I...", you didn't know how to start this conversation. "I like you, okay? You're a wonderful person and you make Mary the happiest she's ever been. But...", you couldn't look him in the eyes, therefore, they found their way to the ground, "You have to tell her what happened yesterday." The lead singer was confused, so you carried on, "Last night, I heard you singing in the attic and I just wanted to know why you were still up and just check on you", suddenly it hit him and he shifted uncomfortably, "... I saw what happened with Paul." After your confession, you got the courage to look back up again and saw tears welling up in his eyes. "I know you're not that kind of man who'd just do that behind her back, but... you have to tell her. I won't, I promise", you spoke quietly and as soothing as possible. "I didn't want this to happen...", his voice cracked and you placed your hand on his back. "I know...", "I love her, I really do", he declared. You started rubbing circles, "I know, I know... but that's why you have to tell her. She'll understand." "Do you really think so?" He looked at you, his eyes full of tears and hope. You nodded with a smile and went to hug him tightly. "You are an amazing human being, Freddie", you whispered in his ear, knowing that he needed a form of cheering up. After parting again, he gave you a smile, assuring you that he would be alright as he wiped his tears away. "You should go and cheer up your boyfriend instead of me." "What? How- what?" You were just as confused as you were in the kitchen a couple minutes ago. "Oh, darling, please. His car is not the only thing he's in love with." His comment made you smile, "Why is everyone-", you threw your arms out and left with a sigh and the smile still on your lips, making Freddie laugh.

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

It is a bit of a longer one, but I hope this somehow made up for the time I had been off. Thank you for supporting me and I hope those who requested it enjoyed it, everyone else of course too! :)

Thank you for reading and I hope you have a wonderful day/night! <3

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thecomedybureau · 4 years

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The 100 Best Things in Comedy We Were Witness to In No Particular Order of 2019

OK, 2019′s officially over and we’ve wrangled our 100 truly favorite things in and around comedy (and it really spans all of comedy) that are not ranked whatsoever. It’s just like the title says and, it’s, as it is every year, quite long, so we won’t waste any more time with this intro.

Oh, in case you forgot and/or curious and/or need a quick refresher, here’s our 2018 list.

1. Rory Scovel Live Without Fear-This documentary follows Rory Scovel and his journey through six nights of completely improvised hour sets. In a single word, it’s inspiring. You see the way Scovel truly connects the audience and keeps it that way through his indelible charm and endless curiosity. The near unbelievable story of the Relapse Theater in Atlanta is also beautifully threaded in the doc as well. The clips of the improvised performances capture the magic that stand-up comedy can be that’s absent from the majority of comedy specials. You should be required to see this whenever and wherever it comes if you have any level of interest in comedy at all.

2. Naomi Ekperigin-From her own stand-up, to her podcast with husband Andy Beckerman, Couples Therapy, and her writing across TV, and everything else she does, Naomi is such an thoroughly commanding, yet delightful presence that we love seeing every time anywhere (and she should already be way bigger of a star already).

3. Cait Raft’s Presentation on “Bradley Cooper’s a Star Is Born Takes Place in an Alternate Reality Where 9/11 Never Happened”-Witnessing the imagination of Cait Raft up close was a privilege for us. This amazing dissection of the zeitgeist left us in stitches and with our mouth agape for how thoroughly it proved its point.

4. Corporate Season 2-The second season of the ultra dark workplace comedy delivered once again on its hysterical nihilistic satire that’s so prescient, yet still so unbelievably funny.

5. Mom-Prov Presents Family Therapy-Improviser Izzy Roland was daring enough to have her mom and her grandmother, both of whom are also in showbiz, to join her on stage for one of the most madcap, fourth wall-breaking, entertaining improv shows we’ve seen all throughout 2019.

6. Jena Friedman-So, this year, Jena delivered yet again with her subtle delivery and calm demeanor that hides her absolutely killer jokes. The follow-up to her Adult Swim special, Soft Focus, upped the ante with an interview of a gun-toting John McAffee and her brilliant Conan set about everyone’s true crime obsession.

7. Brendon Walsh’s Afternoon Delight-This last year, Brendon Walsh let everyone know that he was and still is one of the best at pulling prank calls, which is so much harder now than it was even ten years ago. This live show actually has Brendon place live prank calls in between stand-ups and the ride you go on is absolutely thrilling.

8. Jacqueline Novak’s Get on Your Knees-Novak’s solo show has more than earned its spot as an Off-Broadway show with bringing such an exquisite, almost never before seen comedic sensibility to the topic of blow jobs.

9. #F*ckF*ckJerry-Props to Vulture Senior Editor Megh Wright for sparking the fire to take out the egregious social media accounts of F*ck Jerry that just lifted jokes from comedians all across the Internet without pay or attribution.

10. Lorelei Ramirez-We’ve known distantly about Lorelei Ramirez for so many years, but seeing them up close was a breathtaking experience that had us laughing so hard. Their artistry in comedy that gracefully borders on performance art and even horror is absolutely inspiring.

11. Aaron Urist-Denver’s Aaron Urist is such a killer joke writer and joke teller and has been for years. We just were reminded about that with his burning bush joke during his latest LA trip.

12. Booksmart-Olivia Wilde’s directorial debut was not only a reinvigorated take on movies that specifically hone in on the end of high school, but also had a sincerely hopeful vision of the future generation. We hope that Booksmart finds its way to the top of the coming-of-age comedy films pantheon.

13. Rachel Mac on Lights Out-One of the highlights of Lights Out with David Spade is how unfiltered and raunchy they let comics get during their sets on the show. Rachel Mac took that amount of comedic license and thrived in getting into the nitty gritty about her last teaching job.

14. What We Do In The Shadows-The FX TV adaptation of the seminal Taika Waititi and Jemaine Clement film in 2014 exceedingly succeeds in nailing the comedy of minutia in the world of the undead that also happens to be in a (somewhat) grounded reality.

15. PEN15-Maya Erskine and Anna Konkle’s vision of 2000 and their performances as teens were so spot on that PEN15 would deserve acclaim just for that. However, the heart of this show made its humor stand out in an ever crowded field of coming-of-age comedy.

16. Tiffany Haddish’s Black Mitzvah-A lot has happened for Tiffany Haddish since her last special (she’s a legit A-list celebrity now), but it’s clear that she is still her unapologetically positively, life loving self. This special is evidence of that, especially with her bit about her New Year’s show that she got undeserved flack for.

17. Straw Men-Lindsay Adams, Danny Palumbo, and Sam Wiles (and producer Kimmie Lucas) put on what is our favorite imagining of a comedic debate that we’ve seen thus far. The encouragement to make the most ridiculous, baseless arguments and being transparent about the whole thing is a golden goose of comedy.

18. The ending of Gloria Bell-Well, we can’t very well give away the ending to this English language dramedy remake from Sebastián Lelio that has Julianne Moore shine as bright as she has ever shone before, but just know that we stood out of our seats, applauding what she did to John Turturro right at the end.

19. I Think You Should Leave-Tim Robinson’s unflinchingly absurd sketch series unequivocally has many of the best sketches of 2019. The hot dog costume and Mexican restaurant sketches will have us busting up through, very likely, the next decade.

20. Les Miz and Friends-Bonkers (and we mean that in the best way possible) doesn’t begin to describe how wild this meta and great this puppet and human hybrid take on the theater institution of Les Miserables. The sheer cleverness on every level is awe-inspiring.

21. Dave Ross’ The Only Man Who Has Ever Had Sex-Ross has been a longtime favorite of ours for the contrasting bounciness and darkness of his comedy. His debut album captures this dichotomy perfectly.

22. Nikki Glaser: Bangin’-Nikki Glaser’s first Netflix hour special started off with a bang, pun intended. Her frank, but heartfelt exploration of all facets of sex is so damn funny that Glaser gets away with being as blue as she wants.

23. Super Dating Simulator-This live, interactive version of various Japanese video game dating simulators is one of the more innovative and surprisingly charming things we saw this year. Creator Sam Weller did a bang-up job not only making a video game work as a stage show, but doing so with a very off-beat sub-genre of video games

24. Emmy Blotnick’s Party Nights-Blotnick’s latest album shows Emmy at the peak of her delightful observational powers. The concept of a “Self-Potato” is just priceless.

25. Tammercise!-Folks in comedy are getting all sorts of clever these days to redefine traditional formats and disciplines and push the art form forward. Madeline Wager does this exquisitely with a solo show of a woman unraveling that doubles as legit aerobics class.

26. The Cherry Orchard w/Chad Damiani and Jet Eveleth-Damiani and Eveleth explore a new angle on postmodern clowning by supposedly doing a Chekov play going through dress rehearsal without any of the players knowing what they’re supposed to do. The back and forth between the live direction and the tomfoolery on stage is truly hysterical.

27. Bake Stuff with Lindsay LIVE-It’s about time for a comedic cooking show that actually does teach you a wonderful recipe and also explores and resolves(?) childhood trauma. Lindsay Adams’ Bake Stuff with Lindsay, which we indeed saw live, accomplishes all of that and inspires all those watching to cook through their feelings.

28. Shalewa Sharpe’s So, You Just Out Here?-Shalewa imbues homespun wisdom with marvelously colorful descriptions all throughout this very satisfying album.

29. The Amazing Johnathan Documentary from Ben Berman-The Amazing Johnathan’s life story is pretty captivating as is. The story about Ben Berman trying to tell his story amidst several other people trying to tell his story is absolutely engrossing and is somehow all true.

30. Julio Torres’ HBO special “My Favorite Shapes”-Torres’ special is simultaneously one of the most daring and silly hour specials in recent memory and his elevation of prop comedy to a whole new level is to be commended.

31. The Underculture with James Adomian-James Adomian has been one of comedy podcasts’ most in-demand and bright shining stars. It comes as no surprise that his own podcast that revs up all his characters has some of the best, most dynamic, absurdist interviews in political and pop culture satire.

32. Daniel Van Kirk’s Thanks Diane/Together Tour-Van Kirk’s first, complete hour that he both toured with and released as an album is so impressive with how deftly Dan manages a balance of sincerity and mischief from wire-to-wire.

33. Conan in Greenland-Conan marvelously turns his travel specials series Conan Without Borders on its head by attempting to buy Greenland based off of Trump’s stupid tweets.

34. Mary Beth Barone’s Drag His Ass: A F*ckboy Treatment Program-Mary Beth Barone’s live show exploration into her dating life is illuminating and hilarious throughout, but the actual interview that she does live with a “f*ckboy” is transcendent.

35. Obvious Plant’s Carnival of Toys-Jeff Wysaski AKA Obvious Plant really outdid himself this year in his quest to permeate everyday reality with a satirical twist. He not only made a whole line of custom toy figures that satirize pop culture on so many levels, but opened up a whole pop-up museum for several days to exhibit them in all of their bizarre glory.

36. Sports Without Equipment with Coach Keith Alejo-This Dress Up Gang sketch is one of those ideas that are simple, yet so out-of-left-field. Literally, they take sports without equipment to its funniest conclusion.

37. #Squatmelt-Howard Kremer’s desire to keep the spirit of The Meltdown with Jonah and Kumail alive has evolved into its own very special thing in the form of a DIY stand-up comedy show/walking tour that periodically migrates around LA.

38. Catch-22-Trying to adapt such a monumental literary work like Catch-22 is almost a fool’s errand, but writers Luke Davies and David Michôd do a smash-up job for not only bringing Heller’s immortal words to life, but also sticking the landing for all the darkly absurdly comical moments that run rampant throughout the story.

39. Get Rich Nick-Even if they didn’t have the fantastic banter, riffs, and asides from the very funny duo of Nick Turner and Nick Vatterott, this podcast that explores how to make money real quick is one of the best new podcasts of the whole year. Fortunately, Nick and Nick’s humor runs rampant through every episode and makes Get Rich Nick engrossing and makes you actually laugh out loud.

40. MK Paulsen-The comedy of MK Paulsen can be faster than a bullet, but as satisfyingly silly as a gun that shoots a flag with the word ‘bang’ on it. Every time we see him do stand-up, it’s a fun, rollicking ride that’s equal parts offbeat whimsy, clever wordplay, and an agile sense of timing and play.

41. Father Figurine by Matt Kazman-The dour faces of the family in this dark comedy short play to the highest comedic effect perfectly. A dead patriarch and an apathetic family make for some of the best dry humor in 2019.

42. Funk Shuffle-Danny Cymbal, Dennis Curlett, and Michael Gardner comprise Funk Shuffle, an improv group that manages fly freer and more untethered than almost any other improv group that we’ve ever seen. They make their defiance and experimentation with improv forms really work due to the trio’s unflinchingly playful spirit.

43. Gary Gulman’s The Great Depresh-Gulman, as one of comedy’s premier craftsman, of course, delivers an hour of stellar comedy with this special. He also manages, this time around, to destigmatize depression and, in general, be hopeful. That particular comedy trifecta is such an impressive feat that very few can accomplish.

44. Greener Grass-The scope and ambition of Jocelyn DeBoer and Dawn Luebbe’s directorial debut hints at some really special things to come from them in the future. Their absolutely demented, pastel drenched absurdist vision was a shocking delight through and through.

45. Jenny Slate’s Stage Fright-Slate’s best comedic strength is her unshakeable vulnerability. This hour special lets Jenny present that trait as intimately as she has ever presented it and gives an in-depth look as to where that hilarious vulnerability comes from.

46. Heather Anne Campbell swatting a baby out of someone’s hands in an improv scene-At this point, it should come as no surprise that Heather Anne Campbell is one of our absolute all-time favorite people in comedy and thus, she kind of just ends up making it on this list annually on her own someway, somehow. This year, during a performance of her improv group, Heather and Company, we laughed as hard as we’ve ever laughed at Drew DiFonzo Marks initiating a scene by rocking a baby back and forth and then, Heather insanely swatted it out of his hands and stomped on it. It sounds ludicrous, but trust that Heather made that so unbelievably funny.

47. Adam Cayton-Holland’s Happy Place-Cayton-Holland’s live solo show based on his critically acclaimed book of the same name pulls off oscillating between cleverly wrought and self-aware comedy and some of the most heartbreaking stories you’ll ever hear about his late sister. Holland’s focus and calm make it all miraculously blend together.

48. The Authorized Unauthorized My Favorite Murder Musical-In the world of unauthorized musicals about things that you wouldn’t really think about being adapted into unauthorized musicals (it’s a bigger ever-burgeoning world every month it seems), the staged reading of this My Favorite Murder-inspired musical that we saw was phenomenal. The full stage production to come in 2020 will undoubtedly be something really great.

49. Pedro Gonzalez-Pedro’s jokes are so expertly written and crafted that you forget that he immigrated to America as a teenager from Colombia and learned English as a second language.

50. Garry Starr Performs Everything-UK comedian Garry Starr’s solo show is a genius send-up and celebration of theater as a whole. The physicality and the sheer madness of the whole show are so thoroughly hysterical.

51. Kira Soltanovich-We just want to take a moment to appreciate the agility of the comedy of Kira Soltanovich. Not only does Kira play any room or any show as far as we’ve seen, but her drive is just unstoppable (see ep. of The Honey Dew).

52. Mike Birbiglia’s The New One-Though it seems almost too routine that Birbiglia comes out with a new hour special that garners tons of acclaim for its ornate and complex and, ultimately, very satisfying tapestry of stories, Birbiglia delivers exactly once again with one such solo show/special on fatherhood.

53. Michelle Buteau-We saw Michelle headline just a few months ago at Dynasty Typewriter and were reminded of just how good Buteau is. She combines being heartfelt, having a fun bit of attitude, and an absolute command of the stage in such a beautiful way.

54. Gareth Reynolds’ Riddled with Disease-Many folks know how great Gareth is from his madcap riffing on The Dollop, but Reynolds shows he is fantastic with a sharp, hilarious, yet still fast-and-loose-feeling hour.

55. Sara Schaefer’s LIVE LAUGH LOVE-Sara, above most folks working in comedy today, goes to great lengths to be considerate, inclusive, and vulnerable in her comedy and it’s so, so wonderful because of that. This album is yet another great example of that mix.

56. Sean Patton’s Scuttlebutt-Sean Patton’s latest album is a fantastic note to any and all that Sean is, hands down, one of the best comedians ever to spin a yarn (and also share some damn fine true stories) and deserves way more accolade and attention for that now and going forward.

57. Matt Rogers’ Have You Heard of Christmas?-Rogers had quite a 2019 in putting culture on notice, but his queer and subversive holiday musical extravaganza might be one of the best pieces of holiday themed comedy of all time.

58. The Chris Gethard Show with Robby Hoffman-Not only does Robby Hoffman keep the punk rock, conventions-be-damned spirit of TCGS alive, but she makes it so much her own and lets her hilarious, domineering persona transform the show into another very special, unique round of controlled chaos.

59. The taping of Eddie Pepitone’s latest special-Eddie’s sound and fury and his irreverent stream-of-consciousness-seeming comedy were flawless in this latest hour. Everyone in attendance, including ourselves, were in stitches for the whole taping. Props to director Steven Feinartz for one of our favorite looks of a special that we saw last year (which you’ll all get to see soon in 2020).

60. Eric Dadourian’s closer on Nebraska 2-Dadourian is always all in for the sake of a real bold, imaginative bit and, as such, pulled off one of our favorite closers of the year on his very first full length album.

61. Jessica Kirson: Talking to Myself-Kirson’s hour special on Comedy Central really let Jessica cut loose and let her showcase her stand-up expertise. From the way that Kirson contorts her face to her deep well of voices/characters to razor-sharp quick wit to, of course, her signature asides to herself, Jessica really kills it in this hour.

62. Brody Stevens-Long live the “jock doing performance art” comedy (one of our favorite descriptions of Brody’s comedy by his dear friend Zach Galifianakis) and may he rest in peace. Yeeeees! Enjoy It!

63. Byron Bowers on Colbert-Byron Bowers and his clever, yet sincere, dark, vulnerable comedy put up one of our favorite late night sets this year. From the opening to his frank jokes about his dad make us think that it’s just a little crazy that this is his network TV debut.

64. Desus and Mero on Showtime-With the upgrade of being on Showtime, Desus Nice and The Kid Mero are having the most fun in late night with the freshest voices and format (and they’re able to pull that off with only being twice a week).

65. Fleabag Season 2-creator and star Phoebe Waller-Bridge assuredly has more masterpieces ahead of her, but managing to top herself from one masterpiece season of dark romantic dramedy with another one is something that deserves all the accolades and awards that it has gotten.

66. Kenny DeForest on Corden-Kenny dismantles toxic masculinity so incisively through the whole set that he most certainly earns all the applause breaks he gets the whole way through.

67. Josh Gondelman’s Dancing on a Weeknight-Gondelman is often thought of as one of the best, sweetest people in comedy. This latest album, for all of its being clever and genuine, is proof that he indeed really is that sweet and funny.

68. The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel Season 3-The perennial prestige comedy from Amy Sherman-Palladino earns its keep by having some of the best writing (it’s almost impossible to write jokes that are contextualized for the 50s/60s and make them actually funny for 2019 audiences) and also being one of the most gorgeous looking shows in all of television.

69. Nick Ciarelli and Brad Evans-Whether it be pulling pranks on Twitter, their plethora of hysterical sketches doing an impression of Jack FM on shows around town, or their monthly live sketch character showcase Atlantic City, Nick and Brad are a damn fine comedy duo and have been for quite some time.

70. Caitlin Gill’s Major-It’s quite the magic trick to make an hour of comedy that’s entirely clean and have it being clean not be a thought that you’re thinking about at all when listening or watching it. Caitlin Gill spectacularly does just that with this album as Gill can make all of her earnest rants, imagery, and observations work in any way that she needs to.

71. 97.9 The Rat Race-Ben Roy’s satirical reimagining of a morning radio “zoo crew” is so spot on, then gets real twisted to make this one of the most surprising and rewarding podcasts of 2019.

72. Mike Lane’s Picture Frames-This short film from Lane heightens the idea of remembering those you love after they’ve left this mortal coil to such a ridiculous level every step of the way (and is more and more enjoyably unpredictable the further it goes).

73. Paige Weldon on Corden-Paige’s upbeat self-deprecation is just hard to resist and it makes the best impression in this late night set on The Late Late Show with James Corden.

74. The Righteous Gemstones-Danny McBride’s latest HBO series that darkly and comically dissects the South might be his most ambitious yet, but, of course, he nails it. The constant suspense perpetuated by hysterically tragic characters in the world of televangelists is profound.

75. My Friend Chuck-Comedic erotica author Chuck Tingle (one of the absolutely most unique voices and cadences we’ve heard in awhile) and friend McKenzie Goodwin celebrate their friendship every week for a podcast that’s preposterously funny and, also, more heartwarming than almost anything we’ve heard or seen.

76. Joey Clift’s Telling People You’re Native American When You’re Not Native Is a Lot Like Telling a Bear You’re a Bear When You’re Not a Bear-Clift makes such biting, pun intended, commentary with this short film/PSA that is also so playful that the message about Native identity will undoubtedly stick with you.

77. Megan Gailey’s My Dad Paid For This-Gailey strikes a wonderful balance of charm and attitude and fervent desire to burn down the patriarchy. Such a mix accents her very delightful observations about herself and the world around her in this marvelous debut album.

78. Robin Higgins as Baby Yoda at Tournament of Nerds-Higgins might have made one of the best, first attempts at Baby Yoda cosplay. She also, for what’s supposed to be a roast-style competition between fictional/pop culture characters, perfectly imagined how Baby Yoda would roast someone while maintaining Baby Yoda’s sweetness that has captured the hearts and minds of the Internet.

79. The Man Who Killed Don Quixote-Terry Gilliam went through hell, did a few laps, and came back over several years to get this meta-quixotic tale about reimagining the legendary novel Don Quixote made. The finished film, for us, was worth the wait.

80. Jo Firestone on The Tonight Show-Jo’s sense of play is so pure and present that it’s kind of irresistible. Combined with a perfect amount of self-deprecation, Jo really delivered a terrific set we’ll probably never get tired of.

81. Paul Rudd continues his time honored tradition of playing that one clip of Mac & Me on Conan-Rudd evolves the arc of this long running bit on Conan where, instead of playing a clip of what he’s on Conan to promote, he plays the same exact clip of the universally panned alien comedy Mac & Me. We all know what’s coming and yet, without the benefit of surprise, Rudd’s annoyance of Conan still keeps on being so damn funny.

82. Billy on the Street featuring Reese and Mariah-This year, we were lucky enough to get two instantly classic episodes of Billy on the Street with Reese Witherspoon and Mariah Carey that gave us our fix for our obsession with Billy Eichner yelling at strangers on the streets of NYC.

83. The Dollop England & UK-As Dave Anthony and Gareth Reynolds embarked on an entire England & UK tour of The Dollop, they thought it prudent to do a mini-series specific to Great Britain and did a smashing job making fun of British history. The Cyril the Swan episode is particularly brilliant.

84. Lost Moon Radio-The live musical sketch comedy theater troupe (Lost Moon Radio truly lives up to such a description) marked their 10th anniversary and put on an absolutely fantastic “Summer Block Party” this year that both showed that they still got their ingenious musical sketch comedy chops.

85. Nate Bargatze’s The Tennessee Kid-The calm with which Bargatze pervades all of his comedy is part of what makes it beloved by nearly any and all that see or hear Bargatze’s stand-up. That’s such the case now that Nate gives updates to stories from previous specials on this latest hour.

86. Beth Stelling on Kimmel-Every detail of this set on Jimmy Kimmel Live is pretty stellar. That includes Beth, in general, for her warm demeanor, smile, and cleverness, the Chippendale’s story, Beth’s mom being there in the crowd, and, of course, the surprise guest at the end.

87. Liz Climo’s Please Don’t Eat Me-This illustrated book is just the latest in a long line of uber-adorable and genuinely-funny-for-all-ages books from Climo. Liz seems to have quite the knack for making unlikely animal friendship jokes.

88. John Hodgman’s Medallion Status-Hodgman’s journey through the various statuses of airline privilege/celebrity is a superb serving of existential humor, done up with Hodgman’s painstaking attention to the exactly right details.

89. Jane Curtin’s 2019 New Year’s Resolution “My New Year’s Resolution Is To Make Sure The Republican Party Dies”-Said during a CNN interview with the SNL alum, this was the first thing to make us heartily laugh in 2019.

90. Alex Kavutskiy’s Squirrel-Kavutskiy’s short film dives into the concept of forgiveness unlike we’ve really seen and, as is Kavutskiy’s style, is so darkly spellbinding and so pointedly funny at the same time.

91. Astronomy Club: The Sketch Show-The long running comedy troupe known as Astronomy Club really ran with their chance to do a full-fledged sketch series on Netflix. They’re so endlessly clever on in their sketches, especially when it comes to the subjects of identity and oppression, and pack in so many jokes and sight gags that you’ll definitely want to watch it more than once so you don’t miss anything.

92. Dolemite Is My Name-Eddie Murphy seems poised to make a real return to comedy (and stand-up comedy in particular) and this marvelous biopic of comedian and blaxploitation star Rudy Ray Moore AKA Dolemite is the perfect way to start.

93. Anna Drezen on Corden-Drezen has such a perfect sense of farce and misdirection and puts on a beautiful display of those two things from start to finish in this set on The Late Late Show with James Corden.

94. BUTT’s Yoda themed dating app sketch-This sketch is so prescient of the resurgence of the world’s current (baby) Yoda obsession. Also, while this is so absurd with its deep dive into various Yoda fan art and cosplay, Joe McAdam and Chris Stephens’ take on dating apps is so sharply and deeply funny.

95. Mel Brooks Unwrapped-The never ending bit of attempting a documentary between Mel Brooks and the BBC’s Alan Yentob is yet another display of the true, unquestionable genius of Mel Brooks.

96. 50 First Stephs-The amazing, hysterical Steph Tolev kicked off 2019 with a show where 50 or so of her compatriots and contemporaries did various impressions and characterizations of her. Part roast, part loving tribute, part amazing showcase of the depth of creativity in LA comedy, Tolev’s night for herself was something really special.

97. The Bongo Hour with Sandy Honig and Peter Smith-Honig and Smith brought their wild variety show that featured such wonderful bits, characters, drag, and burlesque to LA and showed, truly, how much better life is when you’re fluid about nearly everything.

98. How Did This Get Played?-Hosts Nick Wiger and Heather Anne Campbell and their take on the “worst and weirdest” video games do their namesake, the beloved How Did This Get Made?, proud. Even if you’re not a gamer, the way they dissect the most bizarre video games ever made along with Heather and Nick’s chemistry is very, very enjoyable.

99. Joe Pera Talks With You Season 2-This second season of Joe Pera’s unique talk-to-the-viewer series is so calming that the comedic twists sneak up in the most delightful way possible. There is a certain beauty to Pera’s show that makes us want to have Joe Pera Talks With You playing on a loop in a contemporary art museum.

100. John Mulaney & The Sack Lunch Bunch-John Mulaney does “it”, yet again. “It” being releasing another hour of comedic brilliance that’s so markedly different than whatever he did before, yet, somehow still stamped with an indelible mark of Mulaney’s comedy of obtuse hyper-specificity.

#top 100 #100 best #best of 2019 #2019 comedy #best sketch #best stand up #best improv #best comedy specials

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bensboynton · 5 years

Text

Good Enough b.h; Part 1

Requested: no

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: swearing, unedited.

“Will I ever be good enough for anyone?”

“You’ve been good enough for me since the beginning.”

In which a singer tries her hand at acting, and ends up with a lot more than she bargained for.

A/N: this is my first attempt at a longer fic, forgive me if anything is inaccurate/grammar mistakes/mistakes in general it’s 1 am and i haven’t slept in the past 28 hours and i just wanted to get this up. – “You got the part.”

“What? Wait, is this a joke? Are you serious right now?” your lungs didn’t seem nearly big enough, as you desperately gasped for air. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing.

“I’m completely serious! You landed the role. You’re Mary Austin. How does it feel to be able to say that? You’re Mary fucking Austin.”

Your heart was pounding in the chest as you were on the phone with your manager, Anthony. This was it. This was your big break in the industry. You just landed the role of the woman who stole Freddie Mercury’s heart.

You had been wildly successful in the music industry for almost five years, as you were about twenty-two shows away from finishing your second world tour for your sophomore album. And while writing music, performing said music, wrapping your tongue around unfamiliar languages and your mind around foreign cultures satisfied you, you always yearned for more. And that’s what led you to acting.

At first, it was an idea you had late at night. “What if I started to act?” But you shot the idea down yourself. You convinced yourself it’d be a distraction. Your manager would never say yes, it’d be too much work for you to handle, you wouldn’t be good at it. Not to mention the extra stress that would’ve been added to your already quite strained schedule. And on top of that, most singers never made it in the acting industry. But once the seed of this idea was planted in your brain, it began to grow. It soon became all you could think about. So, after a few extremely long phone calls with your manager and a few meetings in the city, you managed to set up your first audition. And the rest is history.

At first, you did a few commercials for some popular brands. Some advertising videos, skits for Facebook and Instagram, a few small parts in tv shows and smaller movies here and there, but nothing too major. However, when you heard a murmur through the grapevine about the part of Mary Austin in a biopic about Queen? For a lack of a better way to describe your emotions, you just about shit your pants.

Queen has been one of your favorite bands your entire life(thanks to your father), and it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that Freddie Mercury and Queen were your heroes. Freddie was the main reason you decided to start writing music, and that beautiful man made you fall in love with the art of performance. You took inspiration from him in almost every single aspect of your life. You couldn’t just let an opportunity like this pass you by.

You had submitted an audition tape to the producers one day after a particularly tiring show in Belgium, following a two-week crash course with a dialect coach practicing your British accent. You quickly ran through a few lines of the emotionally extensive script, submitting your video a few moments later. And about four days following the submission of your video, you got a phone call from your manager telling you that you did, indeed, land the part. And you were ecstatic. You were even more elated when you received a similar phone call informing you who got the part of Freddie Mercury; one of your good friends, Rami Malek. You screeched so loud one of the people in the hotel room next to yours came over to ask if you were all right. But you were far better than just “all right.”

You had met Rami backstage before an interview you did with him on Jimmy Fallon’s show, and you two exchanged phone numbers and the rest was history. The both of you were best friends for a while; practically inseparable. The both of you were hanging out at least every other day before distance slowly caused you to drift apart. But a gap between you wouldn’t really be any interference since you’d be working on this movie together. Problem solved.

And so, after a few headaches and way, way too many phone calls(all of which were extremely unnecessary to you), you rearranged the final three shows of your tour to leave you right smack dab in the middle of London, right where you needed to be to begin filming this movie. Everything was beginning to fall into place. – You slowly stretched your arms up over your head, arching your back and cracking your neck. Today. Today was the day you finally got to begin shooting Bohemian Rhapsody.

You had been waiting for this moment for what felt like an eternity. When you heard the news of your success at landing the role as Mary, time started to pass by as if it was in slow motion, and days started to drag on as you waited for shooting to begin. You could only reread the script so many times before it became so mind-numbing it made you sick to even look at it.

Throwing on a pair of jeans and a black turtleneck, you looked at yourself in the hotel mirror. The bags under your eyes were slightly apparent, and you made a note in your head to try and cover them up before leaving your room and checking out.

You grabbed your cellphone and unplugged it from its charger, typing in your passcode and pressing your boyfriend’s contact. The phone rang for a while, but no answer. Your heart sunk slightly at the sound of his voicemail.

“Hey, Y/BF/N. Just wanted to call and say hey before I head to set. I hope your tour is going well, I love you and can’t wait to see you. Talk to you later.”

You sighed gently as you hit the circular “end call” button and set your phone down. No more time for being sad over the strange lack of contact with your significant other. You had a movie to film.

You checked over your room quickly, just to be sure you had packed everything. After all, having all of your clothes would be imperative for the lengthy stay in your new trailer.

Hearing the news that you got to live in your very own trailer while on set was weirdly exciting for you. It felt like a rite of passage, almost like it validated your acting career in an odd way.

Wheeling your two extremely full suitcases behind you, and your backpack sitting gracefully on your shoulders, you slowly but surely made your way to the lobby of the hotel you were staying in. You swiftly checked yourself out and made your way to the notably empty parking lot. Made sense that it would be empty. After all, it was almost 5 am in London.

A black SUV was awaiting you near the doors, ready to take you to your new home for the next few months. Saying you were excited was an understatement.

Making small talk with your chauffeur for the morning, Todd, you admired his thick British accent. You appreciated his unique pronunciation of the words you knew and the few pieces of British slang that were unfamiliar to your remarkably American brain. Hopefully you’d start picking up on those sooner or later. You pretended to be mildly interested in Todd’s ranting about his three children as you lazily twisted your hair around your index finger, head rested against the tinted window. But to be honest, your mind was elsewhere.

You began nervously biting at your already extremely bitten nails as you neared closer and closer to the filming location, thoughts beginning to race through your mind. What if the cast didn’t like you? What if you embarrassed yourself? What if you suddenly forgot all your lines? What if you were so bad at acting they fired you on the spot?

Your worrying was cut short as the short and stout driver with grey stubble pulls onto a gravel road, pulling up to a security gate. He rolls down the window and tells the woman standing in the tiny concrete building to the left of the car something about dropping you off, but you aren’t paying much attention. You’re too busy watching the busy hustle and bustle up ahead, of tons of people with jobs and places to be and things to do. It seems as if everyone is running out of time, due to the quick pace that they’re all walking. The driver pulls up to an average sized building with two very heavy duty black doors.

“I’ll drop you off here, and then I’ll run your bags to your trailer if that’s all right with you Miss Y/L/N.” Todd’s voice snaps you back to reality. “Yes, that sounds great. Thank you, Todd.” he nods as you slowly clamber out of the car, adjusting your purse on your shoulder and walking into the building. You can feel your heart beginning to speed up its rhythm in your chest.

You walk up to the shiny black desk in front of you, about to ask the friendly looking receptionist where you’re needed before an enthusiastic voice echoes through the lobby.

“Y/N!” you turn around to see none other than Rami Malek standing before you. You grin as you run straight into him, your chin resting on his shoulder and your arms wrapped around his neck. You pull away as he gives you a quick peck on the cheek. “Long time no see, ay?” you hum, looking at the familiar man as he grins and looks down at his shoes. You admire the small crinkles in the corners of his eyes. Oh, how you missed him.

“You know, I almost cried when I heard you got the part.” He spoke with an eloquence unmatched by anyone you had ever met before. His voice sent shivers down your spine. “And why was that?” you inquired, as he slowly brought his eyes back up to meet yours.

“Because I knew I couldn’t do it with anybody else. It needed to be you. I just had this feeling, you know? And with our friendship, I knew our chemistry would be good. I was just really excited.”

You felt heat rise to your cheeks, as you tucked a piece of your soft hair behind your ear. It was strange, with Rami. You hadn’t heard from him in months, yet the conversation flowed with ease, almost as if you last talked two days ago.

“You should’ve heard me when I found out you were Freddie.” Rami cocked an eyebrow at your statement as he offers his left arm. You accept his invitation, interlocking your right arm with his as you start walking alongside him, “I was screaming bloody murder. The hotel sent someone from the front desk up to check on me,” Rami let out a loud chuckle, shaking his head as he glanced at you, a twinkle in his bulbous orbs.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel something for Rami when you first met him. I mean, who could blame you? A fashion-conscious, well spoken, educated man? In this economy? A rare occurrence, at best. You started to fall for him when your friendship was at its peak, but it just doesn’t feel the same now. Besides, you now have a loving boyfriend, and Rami has an absolutely beautiful girlfriend. No need to “mingle” with any of your castmates.

You continued your walk down a particularly long hallway with locked arms in silence. But, it was a comfortable silence. That was your favorite thing about Rami. No matter what, he always made you feel at ease. You finally reached a certain door that Rami stopped at, taking a deep breath and looking at you.

“Ready to meet the rest of the band?” you nodded quickly, trying to gather yourself to make the best first impression you could. It was almost as if Rami could sense your nerves.

He gave your arm a comforting squeeze, a slight grin causing the left corner of his mouth to curve upwards into a smile. As you said, he was always able to calm you down. He pushed the door open, and it was almost as if the sound erupting from the tiny room slapped you across the face. Rami grinned at you sheepishly, an apology already bubbling at his lips before you walked swiftly into the room.

“Guys, can you all shut your traps for two goddamn seconds and meet Y/N?” Rami’s voice carried, and suddenly the volume level in the room decreased dramatically. Three unfamiliar eyes were suddenly trained on you, and you sent them a nervous smile, tucking your long hair behind your ear, twisting it around your index finger. This was something you tended to do when you were nervous.

A particularly tall man started walking toward you, a big smile on his elongated face. You imagined him with a mop of curly hair, and immediately knew that this must be the man playing none other than Brian May.

“You must be Gwilym, right?” you smiled, reaching out to shake his abnormally large hand, “I’m Y/N.”

“Amazing to finally meet you, Y/N. Rami has told us loads about you.” you smiled up at him, as you were about 6 inches shorter than his towering figure. He made small talk with you, asking about your flight to London and if you had any trouble arriving on set.

“Oh. My. God. It’s you. It’s really you. I’m in a room with THE Y/N. Wow. I might pass out. Am I dreaming?” a man with curly hair joked, his thick sarcasm lacing his words as he turned to the man next to him. “Pinch me. Wake me up from this dream. It’s too good to be true.” you laughed, shaking your head as you looked up to meet his eyes as he started walking towards you. You curled your finger around a strand of hair as the stranger walked towards you.

“And you must be Joe!” you held out your hand, only to be engulfed in the slightly taller man’s arms. “You’re my new best friend, and best friends don’t shake hands. We hug.”

And although Joe was joking, you clung to his words for a few seconds. It warmed your heart to think that he was already so accepting of you. “This is my other best friend, Allen. Sorry new bestie, you’re going to have to share me. I have a lot of best friends. But there’s plenty of this,” he points at himself, “to go around. I promise.” you giggled, lightly hitting his forearm with the back of your hand. It’s actually quite insane how comfortable you felt around him already, despite you knowing him personally for approximately a minute and a half. You looked up, swiftly scanning the room to look for the final member of the main cast you haven’t had a chance to meet yet. Gwil must’ve seen you look around because he did the same thing. “Has Anyone seen Ben recently? Or did he sneak off for a smoke again?”

“He left about ten minutes ago. Either taking a really, really, nice shit or went to smoke. I’ll let your beautiful minds decide what you want to believe,” Joe’s comment left the entire room laughing lightly under their breath as they returned back to whatever they were doing before you had walked in.

You had been sitting on the couch for about twenty minutes, talking to Joe and answering his many questions about your childhood, career, upcoming music, college and, strangely, what movie you would choose if you could only watch one for the rest of your life. You saw how he could potentially come off as nosy to a high-strung individual, but to you, he was just curious and always had a desire to learn more. You admired that about him, as you were very similar.

The door of the tiny room opened, and a man with fluffy, slightly untidy blonde hair briskly strolls into the room, slipping off the brown leather jacket snugly hugging his muscular shoulders. Your eyes followed him for a split second and it took everything in you to tear your eyes away from the Greek God that just waltzed into the room.

“There he is! My boyfriend. I missed you SO much.” Joe grasped his chest, motioning at the man to walk over. The mysterious man shook his head and let out a soft laugh, his head down as he typed furiously into his phone. You stood up quickly, smoothing out the front of your shirt. Joe gestured to you, and his eyes swept over you quickly, causing a small bout of butterflies to swarm through your empty stomach. You swore your heart was beating so loud, everyone in the room could hear it echoing in your chest.

“You must be Ben. It’s really nice to meet you, I’m-” you began to introduce yourself to the unreasonably attractive man, holding your hand out before he interrupts you. “Y/N.”

“Y-Yeah that’s me.”

The way your name rolled off his tongue sent shivers down your spine. It caught you off guard. His green orbs that glimmered with a tinge of blue slowly met yours, and he smiled sheepishly, before breaking the eye contact and dropping your hand. There was an awkward silence that fell between the two of you, even amidst the chatter of the room. Ben opened his mouth like he was about say something, before a familiar voice interrupted his train of thought.

“Hey hey hey, let’s not get too comfortable over there. That’s my boyfriend. Back off Y/N!” Joe spoke from across the room, sarcastic anger dripping from his mocking words. Ben rolled his eyes, mouthing a “sorry” to you before walking away from you, aimlessly making his way to the other side of the room.

You were left alone, and you rubbed the back of your neck with your right hand. It wasn’t normally like you to act so awkward and secluded around someone, especially someone you didn’t know.

But, nevertheless, you could finally check one thing off your list of worries. The cast was absolutely amazing. Now all you needed to stress about was actually filming the movie.

But little did you know, that would soon become the very least of your worries.

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thewayofthetrashcompactor · 6 years

Text

chapter one on ao3

Rating: T (M later) Words: 1950 / 40k Tags: Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Finn, Rose Tico, Unkar Plutt, Leia Organa, Snoke, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Fairy Tale Elements, Moon, Scavenger Rey, Reylo Fanfiction Anthology, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rating May Change

Summary: Rey has a busy schedule: between her part time jobs, trying to get a degree, and breaking into certain people's homes to steal items she can pawn off to Unkar Plutt, she doesn't have time for anything mysterious or unusual. And she's not exactly in the habit of returning lost property.

However, something gets her to make an exception. Which somehow mixes her up with Ben Solo, and that turns out to be a hard bond to break.

Notes: I’m so excited to share my fic for this year’s @reylofanfictionanthology! Thank you so, so much to everyone involved in this. To all our writers, you are amazing and make this project as incredible as it is. To my fellow mods, you are lovely people who have put so much work into this. I never cease to be impressed. And thank you to everyone reading this! This project has been about six months in the making, and we are all so excited to be able to present this collection!

Thank you also to @shelikespretties and @shmisolo for going through this, and @persimonne for taking the time to read this when I was about to give up and convincing me it was worth finishing. You are wonderful <3

Rey disabled the alarm on the back window through the crack between the frames, pulled it up, and slipped inside. The plush carpet made no sound as she landed, and she closed the window behind her. The full moon shone through the window, casting a silver glow on the luxurious furnishings. A buzzing excitement rolled over her as she took stock of the room she found herself in.

She’d heard the new wave of crime that people were supposed to worry about wasn't the stereotypical burglar in a catsuit breaking into the house in the middle of the night or any of those old-fashioned criminals that made their living with soft steps and quick fingers. Now it was all maintenance workers in disguise and online scams, the kind of things that could get much better rewards with less effort than painstakingly picking open locks. She, however, preferred the classics.

(cont. under the cut)

The room was almost exactly what she'd expected from a sleazebag like Snoke. Thick dark carpet, walls draped in fabric, and a bed that looked like it was covered in the same material as the man's infamous golden suit. She nearly gagged. Oozing wealth, but no taste. Not that she'd know anything about that. Still, she didn't feel too bad about dipping into the man's bloated riches to help keep herself afloat. He was out at one of his monthly meetings that night, something she’d watched him leave for regularly for a few months now, likely rubbing elbows with other criminals as disgusting as he was.

She started at the dresser, a heavy thing made of dark wood inlaid with gold and pearl and with various boxes and jewelry scattered carelessly across the top. Her gloved hands picked through the offerings, taking small pieces here and there, rings or chains that looked less worn or that sat at the bottom of a pile, things he likely wouldn't miss. Scrunching her face in disgust, she quickly rummaged through his sock and underwear drawers, but didn't turn up anything interesting. She retrieved a watch and a couple jeweled tie pins from another drawer, then faced the room again.

The closet was worth a brief look, but she could save that for last. The bed first then. She pulled up the skirt to look underneath, but the frame went all the way to the floor, and knocking around it didn’t turn up any hiding places. She turned to the chest at the foot of the bed, an older piece with engravings of oceans in the light wood. It looked incongruous in the rest of the room, like someone had actually put care into its creation. A lock secured the front, but it was easy enough to pick that. She pushed back the lid, hoping to find a safe or something equally as worthwhile. Instead, a heap of dark fur sat alone inside.

She picked it up, frowning. The fur slid soft and silky under her hands as she stood and shook it out. It turned out to be a coat, slightly too large for her, but not at all shaped for Snoke's gaunt and towering frame either. It looked strangely inviting, and all she wanted to do was to take it with her and wrap it around herself, snuggling into it.

The thought was a completely ridiculous one. The coat would suit her as well as anything else from Snoke's indulgent garbage. It looked luxurious and definitely expensive, but not worth trying to bundle it back out of the house with her. Still, it was an odd thing for Snoke to keep locked up and so close at hand.

Rey sighed, letting it slip through her fingers and fall back into the chest. As it landed, she heard the crinkle of paper and quickly bent over to find what it was. She dug through the pockets until her hand reached a scrap of stationery, which she pulled out and spread on the edge of the chest. The paper looked old and slightly the worse for wear, but the words printed on it were easily legible:

Ben Solo

415-623-1000

Rey's heart skipped a beat. The handwriting was clearly a child's, clumsy and unpracticed, with lines pressed deep in the paper where he must have been concentrating. The ‘S’ could nearly be an eight and the zeroes ran into each other. But the name and number were understandable, and the intention was obvious. She'd done something similar for her prized possessions as a child, such as they were: a faded ‘R’ scrawled in marker on the foot of the doll she'd made from scraps, and when she was older, ‘Rey Niima’ written carefully on her beat-up copy of ‘The Little Princess’ she'd stolen from her classroom. She hadn’t wanted to commit to the phone number of her latest home, so she’d settled from writing under it: “If found, please return”. Her hands clenched on the paper, wrinkling it. She didn't know who ‘Ben Solo’ was, but she'd be willing to bet he didn't belong within a thousand feet of Snoke at any time.

She tried to set the coat back. Even if something was wrong here, which it very likely was, she couldn't do anything about it. Having the coat would just get her in trouble, one way or another. She was here to get herself through another month, not involve herself in any of Snoke’s notoriously sketchy dealings. Yet, even with all of that logic, she couldn't close the lid and let it go.

With a growl, she gathered the coat up and pulled it out of the chest, then closed the lid and locked it again before she could reconsider. Scowling the whole time, she bundled the fur into her bag and tied it to her back. As she eased herself back out the window, she couldn't help but feel like she was going to regret this.

(read the rest on ao3!)

#reylo #reylo fanfiction anthology #rffa writers #benrey #rey x kylo ren #reylo writing den #between belief #my fic

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thewildheroine · 6 years

Text

Fly Away |Twenty-Seven|

Warnings: Severe injury, explosion

Word Count: 4K

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

A/N: These make me really sad when I write them now and not only because it’s an angsty story but also because I have like three big assignments I need to get done by Thursday night. School hasn’t even started yet and I’m already stressed.

|Masterlist|

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I pant, my breathing coming out in short puffs of air. My needle’s point is resting on the ground next to me, blue light streaming from the obsidian and onto the mat. A conjured dummy waits patiently for me to begin my attacks again. In its false hands is a simple sword. One that I still haven’t been able to take away.

Laying next to the wall is my sling and wrist bandage, both of them having been removed during a moment of pure frustration. Despite the aching all throughout my body, I raise my hands in a defensive stance again, putting the pain way deep in the back of my mind where it can’t cause me any more trouble. The indigo sleeves of my tunic have been rolled up and a belt has been tied tightly around my waist, keeping the spare pants I managed to find in the Sanctum up.

“Ready,” I announce. Without any hesitation, my design charges towards me, it’s expressionless face focused in on mine. I don’t bother running towards it as well. Instead, I wait for it to reach me before spinning out of the way, my hand gripping onto the magic and yanking it down so the faux soldier falls. It hits the ground hard before rolling away, using its momentum to get up in under a second. Now it waits as well. I’ve designed it to take in my fighting style, analyze every move and use it against me, forcing me to change it up every few minutes.

Suddenly, the blade swipes at my stomach. I barely jump in time to avoid the stinging it would leave me with. While his arm is still exposed though, I shove my needle straight through his radius and ulna and twist upward. While he can’t make any noise I image the crack as his entire forearm twists from the socket. I imagine the blood-curdling scream as it is released from his gaping mouth. Then I rip the needle from the golden illusion. It falls towards the ground, disappearing completely before a single spec of magic could hit the ground.

“Y/N?” Peter asks, his voice soft. While rewrapping the bandages over my knuckles I turn towards him. Beneath his sweatshirt I can see the lines of his red spider-man suit; something I think he has only taken off to shower the past six days. Strands of his wavy hair turn to gold atop his head. He smiles at me kindly, feeling the rage and confusion rolling off of me just as much as he felt it last night when he held me on top of him. Every few minutes he’d tilt his head to see if I had fallen asleep only to find my eyes wide open and staring at something too distant for him to make out.

“What’s up?” I finish tying my bandages and flex my fingers. The strain of my sore wrist makes a wince leak past my lips without my permission. Peter chooses not to point out the high squeak as he enters the small training room. His eyes linger on my bracelet for an uncomfortable second as I recoil it back into my bracelet. The cool metal slides across the middle of my palm, choosing to behave when I command it to hide.

“Nothing,” he replies. “I wanted to check on you really quick. You didn’t get very much sleep last night.” Peter’s eyes glance over at the sling laying on the floor. I watch a small frown take the place of his grin. A little light falls from his eyes when Peter looks back to me and I almost feel the need to bow my head in the presence of his unconditional worry.

“I’m okay,” I reassure him. “My collarbone feels a lot better.” Peter’s mouth opens a little as though he’s preparing to tell me something important but then he shuts his lips together again and grabs the back of his sweatshirt with both hands. My eyes remain concentrated on him as he pulls it over his head and discards it.

“What are you doing?” I wonder. “Some sort of striptease?” Peter immediately chuckles at my joke and the noise makes a smile appear on my own lips. He steps out of his joggers and moves towards me.

“I’m gonna spar with you,” he announces. My smile falls.

“Peter,” I begin quietly.

“Look,” Peter states, “I know how these things go by now? I ask you to take a break but you just keep training, saying every time that if Dormammu comes you need to be ready, so I might as well train with you.” He messes with the web shooter that has been fritzing ever since I tore it from his suit. “If you’re gonna be obsessing over this then I’m going to be obsessing with you.”

“Fine,” I agree, biting my lip nervously as I look over Peter. “If you’re gonna spar with me though you need to fight like a sorcerer.” Peter furrows his brows right away, oblivious to what I’m getting at.

“You’re gonna teach me,” he looks around the room like he’s trying to find another set of eyes to confirm what I just said, “magic?” I laugh and shake my head.

“God no,” I clear up the confusion. “Magic takes weeks to even harness for some people.” Tapping my wrists together, I start conjuring a simple weapon for Peter to use. “I’m gonna give you a weapon you can use.” I grab a red sword out of thin air. Turning it over I make sure it’s something that will be safe for Peter to use. Silently, I extend the sword over to him, causing Peter to make a bewildered face at the magical blade.

“I have no idea how to-”

“It’s fine,” I interrupt. “I’ll show you. Just grab the hilt.” Peter nods at my instructions and hesitantly takes the weapon into his hands. I watch, subtly amused as he studies the glittering object he holds between his fingers. By the way his eyes light up I can tell he’s feeling the small surge of energy that pulses throughout his entire body.

“This is what magic feels like?” he asks, his hazel orbs filled with pure wonder.

“Yeah,” I laugh and nod while correcting the way his fingers are wrapped around the hilt. “Though this is more diluted so your body doesn’t immediately undergo the change.” Peter looks up at me and my heart squeezes at the sight of his wide smile.

“This is crazy,” he remarks and I chuckle again.

“Okay, Spidey.” I shake my head and move to the side so that I can properly mess with his arms if I need to. “Now something you need to know. Never hold a longsword with one hand.” Peter opens his mouth to retort but I hush him before he can. “It’s a myth. It won’t make you look like a badass. It will, however, make you look like a clumsy dipshit.” When I look at Peter again his mouth is pressed into a tighter line out of displeasure.

“This just became a lot less fun,” he grumbles sarcastically.

Scoffing to myself, I push up his arms and begin bending them to where they need to be. “This is middle position,” I inform him. He nods intently as I push his arms into the next spot. “Hanging right,” I guide his arms to the other side of his body. “Hanging left.” As I go on Peter continues to keep a close eye on the way I move him. His brown eyes trace the lines of his arms everytime I change the position, always taking a moment or two to try and memorize what I’ve just shown him.

As I’m leading his arms into short Peter abruptly says, “I remember seeing you for the first time.” I stop my teaching and slowly look up at him, wondering what could’ve possibly crossed through my boyfriend’s mind to have brought that up so suddenly. “It was at registration. You looked tired like you were up all night working. I think you were wearing jeans and an old band t-shirt that had a hole in one of the shoulders, right?” I nod in response, not actually knowing but just wanting him to continue. “There was always something I thought was different about you. I always figured that it was because you were quiet but I think that somehow I always knew.”

“Knew about my magic?” I question. Peter shakes his head.

“Not that,” he mumbles, his focus once again shifting to the sparkling sword. “I think I knew even then that you’d be important to me.” Hot blush starts to bloom over my cheeks and I pretend to be fixing his footing so that it is hidden. “I remember the first day I heard your voice too. It was always softer than I expected. Since you were always so tired I thought it would be rough, but it wasn’t. It sounded wide awake, like you were in on some sort of important universal secret and you had to protect it. It would crack sometimes though when you were talking about things that made you bored.”

Finally, I work up the courage to look at Peter who has already been gazing right at me for god knows how long. “Do you remember stuff like that?” he wonders. I shrug my shoulders shyly and go back to fixing his grip.

“Not really, no,” I answer truthfully, praying that I didn’t disappoint too much. “I remember sitting next to you in the library after, you know, Ben.” I peek through my hair and at Peter to make sure I didn’t make him upset by mentioning his uncle. When I’m sure that he isn’t I turn back to his arms. “I remember our first hellos, and goodbyes, and that world history project we did together. How you had me speak to the class because you were still too shy around everyone.” I frown a bit and subconsciously begin messing with the edge of the sword.

“I guess everything before October and after my dad left is sort of a blur,” I continue. “Everything I remember has some sort of shape in mind but I can’t decipher the exact details. Not until saving the kid. I just guess before then nothing was worth remembering.” My index finger slips down the blade's edge and falls back over Peter’s hand. “Back then I used to just go through the motions. I never really took note of faces or voices and anything really. I was just… the girl that existed, I guess.

Behind me, Peter lowers the sword slowly as to not startle me. While one still holds onto the hilt the other reaches for the back of my raised hand. I allow the advance and silently revel in the way Peter’s fingertips course across the skin of my palm so that he can intertwine our hands. He spins me around so that I’m facing him.

“You have always been so much more than the girl that existed, Y/N,” Peter assures me as he rests his forehead against mine. Then he’s suddenly leaning in and pressing his lips against mine. I moan at the abrupt connection and grab onto his shoulders for support while I try to regain the balance that was so quickly stolen from me.

One of Peter’s hands grabs onto my hip, the humming weapon somehow still connected with his hand while the other releases my wrist and goes to caress my face. I nuzzle the side of my cheek into his palm, desiring more contact than I’ve been allowed for the week. Peter’s fingers squeeze my waist suddenly, but instead of yelping, I groan softly. He takes it as an invitation to pull me closer, the hand on the side of my face growing insistent as he deepens the kiss.

Before I realize what I’m doing I’ve guided Peter so that his back is pressed against the wall. His hand falls up and down my back, lighting up my nerves with every move. My palms slide from his shoulders and towards his neck. I feel the thin fabric of his Spider-Man suit and I curl my fingers into the hem of it for better grip.

When we separate Peter and I are both panting heavily, our eyes closed and fingers still holding on closely to each other’s bodies. My body falls against Peter’s and I tuck my head into his chest, breathing in the scent of him. He places his head on top of mine and sighs heavily.

“God,” I whisper into his skin, “I love you so much.” Peter’s calloused fingers gently brush out a knot before settling back in.

“I love you too,” he tells me. “Also,” I lift my head from Peter’s chest so I can hear him better, “holding a longsword in one hand is absolutely the most badass thing I’ve ever done.” I laugh immediately, looking at the way he is still holding the weapon before I drop my head back into the crook of his neck.

“You’ve clung to the side of a falling plane Peter,” I remind him.

“Yeah,” he mumbles, “but this is magic.” I giggle again and shake my head.

“God, I love you so much Spidey,” I repeat. Peter shifts his head enough to kiss my hairline.

“I love you too, Blue.” He hugs me close to him, his protective arms wrapping around my back. I smile into his fair skin, this time trying hard to pick out exact scents. The Thai restaurant he and Aunt May always go to, sweat, a small hint of cologne, burnt metal, and detergent. All things I’ve learned to love. I continue focusing on the smells etched into the fabric of his clothes until a distant ticking begins just outside the training room door.

“You hear that,” Peter asks under his breath. My eyes automatically go to look at the hairs on his arms. All of them are standing straight up. I nod, my eyes remaining on his hairs for a second longer. We separate from each other slowly, fearing that even the smallest movement may cause a throng of trouble to come bursting through the doors. I study the handle of the door before setting it on top. There is no horrible sensation but I can still make out the faint ticking.

“Y/N!” Peter, shouts. Suddenly, he tears me away from the doorway and spins us around so that his back is facing the strange noise. Then a mind shattering boom screams into my ears, turning every noise into ringing as I’m thrown forward. When I land I do so hard, my rib cage slamming into the mat that cannot provide enough padding. Pain shoots through my collarbone, and I can hear the sickening crack of the bones slipping even further out of place.

I open my eyes slowly, the lights have become too bright in the last few seconds. Ash and buring wood have fallen all around me. It seems easy to remain on the ground right now and just let sleep take me, but then I see the bright red mound on the ground not too far away. My heartbeat fills my ears in under a moment as I realize who it is.

Despite the pain and ringing I get up on my hands and knees and start crawling towards Peter. As I move I can hear my split bone scratching against itself. The medicine I took this morning has faded away and I’m forced to bear all the pain as I finally get close enough to see the damage Peter has suffered from. Covering his entire back is a thin layer of blood. I can make out deep puncture wounds over his shoulder blades and where I assume his stomach is. I attempt pushing my hand against a wound to slow some of the blood flow but it all just leaks past.

“Spidey,” I whimper weakly. Outside I know that there must be dozens of zealots waiting for the dust to clear so they collect me and leave Peter to die. “Peter baby,” I try again. This time he stirs a little. I’m relieved when his eyes just barely crack open enough for me to see hints of warm chocolate.

He winces, the sharp air pushing through his teeth. I bite the inside of my cheek as I try and think of something to do. My mind only comes up with one thing though.

“Okay, Peter,” I begin while placing my hands over the cuts again. “I’m gonna do what I did for Icarus. I’m gonna take away some of the pain.”

“Y/N,” he slurs. “No. You get out. Get Strange.” I shake my head, the torrent of tears in my eyes barely being held back by my will alone.

“I’m not leaving here without you,” I assert. “Just stay still.” Peter’s already fallen asleep again though. I grimace and begin pulling energy from within my body to replace what Peter has lost. I feel the transfer begin. My entire back begins to ache as I continue with the spell not even Stephen approves of.

Slowly, I feel spots of blood start spilling through my tunic as I close Peter’s entire wound. He still refuses to wake though and I fear the worst. Hesitantly, I let out part of my astral form and push it into his skin to see what’s wrong. I gasp when I see the amount of blood filling places it shouldn’t. All the healing I can’t complete is entirely internal. Now I let my tears fall as I look down at Peter, his face paling quickly.

“Okay,” I whisper, my voice ripping at the seams. “I’m gonna get you out of here, okay baby? We’ll both be okay. They won’t get us. We’re gonna be okay. We’re gonna be okay. We’re gonna be okay, okay Spidey?” As I’m saying it I push as much energy as possible into my body and use it to lift my body off the ground, carrying Peter with me. I barely manage staying up let alone holding Peter as we cross the destroyed threshold.

Two blue blades effortlessly drop from my hands and begin flying around, striking zealots who I have no time to worry about. As I go down the hallway I start feeling stronger already and soon enough I’m able to direct my magic at Peter rather than use it to move my own legs. My eyes dart around, fear creeping into every cell of my being to keep me on high alert.

When I turn a corner I’m faced with Strange who has a shield and blade in each hand. As soon as he sees Peter and I the weapons disappear though and he grabs both of us. I follow Stephen as he leads us through all the relics and downstairs, to the foyer that has already been ripped apart. He leads us into a little hallway that has a large, golden clock on one side and a giant door on the other. On it is the same symbol I recognize from the upstairs window.

Stephen flicks his wrist and the doorway flings open, hitting the walls before coming to a stop. I use the magic remaining in me to levitate Peter’s body and float him to the safety of wherever the portal leads to. Once he has been set down on the floor I run a hand across my back only to find that there is no more blood.

“Y/N!” Strange shouts at me. I lift my head to look him in the eye. “Go now!” I furrow my brows and shake my head, rushing to Stephen’s side.

“No way,” I growl back. “I’m not letting you fight them alone.”

“Yes,” Stephen grabs onto my arms and pushes me back, “you are.”

I slam my feet into the ground, sending a pulse of magic that is more to shock Strange into stopping than to cause damage, “No I’m not,” I reassert and shake my head. “I’m leaving you to die again, Stephen. Not again. Please, let me stay here and help.” He narrows his eyes at me and looks over his shoulder to see if anyone has followed us. When he turns back there is a rawness in his eyes that I’ve come to recognize from him. Stephen reaches for one of my hands and places something inside of it, closing my fingers over the substance so that I can’t lose it.

“What-” I don’t get the chance to ask as he pulls me into his arms and hugs me tight. My eyes widen at the sudden gesture but it doesn’t take long for me to return it. I embrace him back, keeping my hand tightly closed around whatever he gave me while I shut my eyes and appreciating the feeling of him holding me.

“I’m proud of you,” he tells me. I feel his shoulders shift but I choose to ignore it. “And I know you will do the right thing… even when I’m gone.” My eyes automatically snap open but it’s already too late. The Cloak of Levitation falls onto my shoulders and picks me up and off the ground.

I scream and kick, willing the cloak to let me go. I try to harness my magic to force it away from me, but I used what little I had left in me to send Peter to safety. My fingers claw at the soft material and I shout for Strange to stop it. He doesn’t listen though and I’m thrown through the portal. My shoes squeak on the tiles as I continue thrashing the relic with m hands. The cloak stays on me though, keeping my feet firmly planted on the ground as Stephen mouths what I believe to be goodbye before waving his hand and turning the portal to stone. I’m automatically released from the cloaks grip and fall to the cool stone.

Tears fall freely from my eyes as I race toward the door and slam my fists against it. “Stephen!” I scream, announcing to anyone in the vicinity that I’m here. “Stephen! Let me through now! Let me through!” Blood starts dripping from my hands as they scrub against the scratchy surface. I let out a loud shriek and fall to the ground, my knees colliding hard with the dark tiles. “Please Stephen,” I beg. “Please let me save you.”

Before I can grieve anymore I hear a distinct cough. Spinning around, I find Peter laying on the ground with the Cloak of Levitation hovering over him. I race towards him and place his limp body in my lap.

“Oh god Peter,” I murmur. I look up at the cloak helplessly. “Find someone, please.” It follows my command without thinking twice and shoots around the corner. I turn back to Peter and press a kiss to his forehead. “You’re going to be okay Spidey,” I say. “You have to be okay. For me, please, please, please be okay. Please.”

I hear the footsteps down the hall, notifying me that whoever it is is hurrying. The will I had before is gone though and I can’t even raise my head from Peter’s body. In my clenched fist is whatever Stephen gave me before sending me away. Now it feels more like a curse than a gift now. I search for courage. The courage to look my saviors in the eye and say thank you. The courage to look up even when a few sorcerers pick up Peter and carry him away to be treated. The courage to open my hand and see what the powder is. The courage to stand.

Dormammu took them all from me though. Everyone. Tony, Cap, Nat, Thor, and Clint. The whole team. Then he took away Stephen and now I have no idea if Peter will even make it through. He’s the last thing I have to lose. What if he lives though? How much longer until that monster tears him away from me too?

Dormammu was right….

I don’t want to fight anymore.

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A/N: The next chapter probably won’t be out until Friday afternoon mtn. time so I can catch up on sumer homework.🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Comment below or send me an ask if you would like to be tagged.🖤🖤🖤

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