Hopper being harsher on Eddie than any of the others post-Vecna because..."hell the kid's a drug dealer Joyce, and he's always around our kids."

The others run rampant, kids and older teens alike, but the second Munson is out of his sight, Hopper gets all itchy and concerned. It's his cop mode, he can't just switch it off around people he knows are bad for his family. He's being cautious.

So he thinks nothing of it when they're all around for a movie night, and Munson's disappeared. Hopper finds him outside, round the back of the house. But he's not smoking pot or snorting cocaine or breaking into anyone's car or anything.

He's got his tongue down the Harrington kid's throat.

The Harrington kid that Hopper hadn't even noticed was also missing from movie night. Because he's a good kid.

And Hopper backs the hell up and retreats back into the house, hopefully before he's noticed. But Eddie definitely saw him, and finds it hilarious.

fake dating 10, any pairing you want

damie + “please just hold my hand, that person’s basically undressing me with their eyes.”

trope prompts

//

It’s not that Jamie doesn’t want to be at this school function, it’s just that—

No, that’s a lie. She definitely doesn’t want to be here, and wouldn’t if she weren’t part of the staff. Wouldn’t be here if Dani hadn’t tricked her, really, because Jamie’s usually pretty good about saying no even at work. 

“Rebecca’s back from traveling,” Dani had tried, and Jamie said no because who knows how long that’ll last. 

“Owen said he’s gonna ask Hannah out,” she’d tried next, and Jamie had actually laughed in her face. 

“Someone is actually going to have to physically force those two together,” she’d replied, and Dani’s eyes lit up, prompting her with a quirk of an eyebrow.

In no world does Jamie want to be that person.

Dani had sighed. “Free booze,” she’d grumbled, desperate. Jamie had rolled her eyes and opened the door to her well-stocked liquor cabinet.

Dani had pursed her lips together and turned her face away, almost quick enough for Jamie to miss the grin she was failing to suppress. 

If Jamie weren’t constantly on the lookout for that smile, she might have succeeded.

Dani had sighed again, raked a hand through her fluffy, perfect hair, and flopped back on the couch.

“Okay, fine,” she huffed. “You win, don’t come, we’ll hang out over the weekend and I’ll just tell you all about how lonely I was at the party—my first party without Eddie, which everyone will probably be asking me about and I’ll have to field awkward questions all night—”

Jamie scoffed. “And you think I’m going to magically make them not be awkward?”

“No,” Dani answered, a little too quickly. “I think you’d glare at them so hard they wouldn’t even ask me in the first place.”

“I think I’ve just been insulted!”

“No,” Dani laughed, “you just have that whole—” She scrunched her eyebrows together and set her shoulders, curled her lip upwards into an unmistakable hint of a sneer. Her voice, when she spoke, was half an octave lower and at least six countries away from Jamie’s accent. “—’Don’t fuck wiv’ me’ vibe going on,” she finished.

Jamie had taken a few long moments to blink away the urge to kiss her. 

“You’ve gotten worse,” she’d finally said. “Almost a year and a half working together and you’ve gotten worse.”

“Come to the party and you can spend the whole time teaching me.”

“Dani.”

“Jamie.”

Her eyes weren’t wide anymore; they’d shrunk back to being shy and vulnerable, the stormy kind of blue that Jamie didn’t ever see unless they were alone. Jamie had spent the better part of a year not acknowledging her feelings for Dani, and she was good at it. Not always good enough to escape Hannah’s shrewd gaze, but enough to where it was a genuine friendship, and she only felt the roar of devotion flare up in the quietest, most private of moments.

Jamie was excellent at controlling her emotions. She’d spent an entire lifetime honing that skill, protecting herself from the surprisingly large amount of people who seemed destined to hurt her. 

Jamie had nothing on Dani Clayton.

Dani could suppress any negative feeling until it almost ceased to exist; she had an incredible way of just...willing things not to happen. It had taken months for her to reveal the cracks in her relationship with Eddie, and even then Jamie sat by and watched, completely blown away, by how quickly and how sincerely Dani put the mask back up around people who only wanted to see silk and porcelain. The crazy thing about it was that Dani meant it; Dani gave all of her attention to everyone who asked for it. She didn’t have an insincere bone in her body.

But, god—Jamie’s life had been shit before, and still nothing made her sadder than watching Dani perform.

If all it took for her not to do that was one party, well, she could table the rest of it for later.

She’d picked up her phone and opened up the group chat they had with Hannah, Owen, and Rebecca.

“Right,” she’d groaned, “guess we’ve gotta coordinate who’s driving because the only way I’m getting through this is if I’m very, very drunk.”

.

And so Jamie finds herself at the not-yet-Christmas, ambiguously-winter end-of-semester party, sticking to Rebecca like a leech while she regales groups of coworkers with the same six stories of her very impulsive, wildly successful trip around the world. Dani, meanwhile, hasn’t been answering any awkward questions, from what Jamie’s heard, and is instead relaxed and popular as she chats with all of their friends.

Jamie almost turned around ten minutes in, once it became clear what the tone of the night would be. But there was no sense in bailing when she was already there and hadn’t driven herself, and—

Who would be there for Dani to look at, every twenty minutes or so, just for reassurance or to check in or whatever kind of comfort she might be seeking. (Jamie doesn’t know for sure what it is. She knows what she hopes it is. But that’s something else for the ‘later’ bag.)

She stays. Jamie stays and drinks and laughs and eventually gets sucked into the party of it all, which is why she’s five minutes into her best story of youthful shenanigans that didn’t end in a visit from the cops, and absolutely doesn’t notice the anxious blonde rushing at her from across the room. 

 “Hold my hand, hold my hand, hold my hand,” Dani urges, arm outstretched as she speeds closer. She hits Jamie’s elbow when she gets close enough and finally manages to wrestle Jamie’s hand into an iron grip.

Jamie, sufficiently interrupted, stops talking and looks down. “What’s going on here, then?”

Dani takes a deep breath and plasters on the worst attempt at a smile Jamie’s ever seen, which is still pretty good by most peoples’ standards. “Remember all those awkward questions I thought I’d get about Eddie?” she says through clenched teeth.

“Yep.”

“Thought they’d be full of pity, not flirting.”

Jamie’s head shoots up, trying to pick out the offenders, but Dani slaps her elbow again.

“Don’t look!” she hisses. “We have to make this convincing.”

“Make what convincing?” Jamie narrows her eyes and takes a long sip of her drink. “You’re pulling me into some kind of scheme, Poppins, and I know I’ve told you what happened the last time somebody did that…”

Dani laughs, high and fluttery and nervous in the back of her throat. “Please just hold my hand,” she implores. “Nathan is basically undressing me with his eyes but I think you can scare him off if he sees us together.”

“Nathan?” Jamie starts to scan the room again, a little less obviously this time. “Nathan Ford, the school’s sluttiest social studies teacher?”

“Mhm.”

“The same Nathan Ford who’s walking over right now?”

“What!” Dani straightens up, rigid and spooked like a deer in the road. “I can’t believe—I was so careful; is he stalking me?”

The anxiety is short-lived and replaced very quickly with anger once Jamie can no longer hold in her laughter. 

“You,” Dani says, prying Jamie’s drink from her other hand, “tricked me.”

“You tricked me first,” Jamie winks.

“I don’t even think he’s in here anymore.”

Jamie shrugs. “Probably not.”

“You made me think I was in so much trouble…”

“You’re always safe with me, Poppins.”

Dani finishes the drink.

.

The funny thing is, neither of them lets go. 

Nathan Ford isn’t the only slutty teacher and it doesn’t take Jamie long to get a glimpse of what Dani’s been dealing with, the men—single and married—who look at her just a little too long, a little too presumptuously. Dani, of course, handles it with grace and charm, and Jamie thinks that maybe she didn’t need her grumpy buffer after all.

She holds tight anyway, just in case.

It’s a dangerous thing to do, parade a fake relationship in front of all of their coworkers, but it doesn’t feel wrong or forced. They’re going on a break soon, Jamie rationalizes. School is going on a two-week break and everyone is drunk and no one is going to remember the scandal of the fourth grade teacher clinging all night to the newest member of the art department. If they do...well, everything can be laughed off or pushed down or forgotten eventually.

So they cling and they talk and Jamie expertly lets every too-interested man know, with absolute certainty, that their efforts should be directed elsewhere. She tickles her fingers against Dani’s, throws in a few isn’t that right, love’s every once in a while, rubs a hand on her back when the moment feels right. And Dani—

Dani invades her space—presses their shoulders together, scratches at the inside of Jamie’s wrist, wipes a stray bit of liquor from the side of her mouth after an untidy sip. Jamie feels all of this and lets it wash over her, lets it sink under her skin and warm her body until she feels like she could start a fire with her hands.

The night winds down and people filter out and eventually there isn’t anyone left to fool. But Dani’s hand is still in hers and Jamie is more than happy to be slow and soft with her. She stays, for the tenth and fifteenth and hundredth time.

It’s just the five of them left, eventually, and they migrate to the bar when the party room in the back seems too large for such a small group. They situate themselves on stools in the corner, and the conversation flows without a hitch. It always has with this group—Owen, Hannah, and Rebecca first, then Dani, then Jamie. She’d tell them all how much it really means to know them if anyone got enough drink in her.

Until then, she’ll scoff at group texts and drag her feet to parties and settle into the fact that they all know it’s for show anyway.

She props her head on her hand and listens, quickly approaching the sleepy part of drinking. She tries not to watch Dani too much while they all talk but it’s difficult—Dani is noticeable at a distance and absolutely striking up close. The curl of her lips as she smiles, the way they overtake her entire face if she means it enough (and she usually does); the laughter that pours out of her and directly into the hearts of anyone lucky enough to be listening; the way her ears look bigger when she hooks her hair behind them, how she only does that when she’s in very comfortable company.

After about thirty minutes, Jamie gets up to retrieve their coats before she does something stupid, like playfully tug at Dani’s earlobe or reach in to straighten the collar on her shirt.

She returns shortly, holding her leather jacket and Dani’s very puffy winter coat, and sits down without a word, content to wait for a natural break in the conversation. She folds the coats over her lap and fiddles with a coaster on the counter.

Dani absently reaches back to still her fingers after about a minute. A simple gesture—resting her hand atop Jamie’s, perhaps swiping her thumb across the back of her hand. Nothing like the displays they’d been putting on earlier. So unlike them, in fact, that Jamie doesn’t notice it at all.

Owen, Hannah, and Rebecca can’t take their eyes off it.

“So, what, were you waiting to tell me until I got back?”

Jamie nurses the dregs of her beer. “Tell you what?”

“This, what is this!” Rebecca exclaims, fluttering her fingers in the direction of Jamie and Dani’s still-clasped hands. “I go gallivanting around the world for an entire year and neither of you mention that you’ve shacked up?”

Jamie and Dani look at their hands, look at each other, and start speaking at the same time.

“We’re not dating, it was just a stupid thing for tonight—”

“Jamie’s doing me a favor since Eddie’s gone and men are creepy—”

“Right, sure.” Rebecca squints and fixes both of them with a sly glance. “It’s just for tonight, to ward off creepy men, which is why you’re still doing it since there are so many of them around now.”

“Must have just gotten used to it,” Dani offers weakly.

“Of course, which is why you still haven’t let go.”

Jamie lets go and tries not to telegraph how much she misses the weight of Dani’s hand.

“You’re definitely not dating,” Rebecca continues, “which is why Jamie got up and got her coat and Dani’s, and left the rest of us hanging.”

Dani looks down and finally notices the coat in Jamie’s lap. “You got my coat?” she asks, furrowing her brow.

“Yeah,” Jamie shrugs. “Seemed like you were ready to go.”

“Yeah, but I was—I was still talking.”

Jamie waves a hand. “You were telling the piano lesson story; you always tell that when you want the night to wind down.”

“No, I—” Dani frowns and retrieves her purse from where it’s hooked around the stool; she rummages through it frantically, her movements loose and messy. “How did you get my coat check ticket?”

“Took that from ya ages ago, Poppins,” Jamie answers. “You were so nervous you were gonna rub the number right off it, and then we’d both be shit outta luck.”

Jamie watches as the expression on Dani’s face morphs, unfurls from stern, puzzled ridges and relaxes into fondness, into twinkling eyes and soft cheeks, a mischievous affection that floors Jamie every time she sees it. Every time, she wonders how many people have been lucky enough to have been on the receiving end of this look, and hopes that the answer is ‘very few’.

“We should, um, probably go,” Dani whispers.

Jamie smiles. “We all drove here together,” she reminds Dani, just as quietly.

Dani slumps back. She reaches for her coat but instead of grabbing it, simply rests her hand on top, like she’s waiting.

Jamie breathes deeply and avoids looking at Rebecca.

“Owen, mate,” she says, daring him to tease her, “maybe you could drop off Dani and me first.”

maybe one day i’ll fly next to you

chapter 7/8

read on ao3

start from the beginning

“Thought I’d find you out here.”

The balcony door slides shut behind Maddie, muffling the laughter and chatter coming from her apartment. 

“Just like last time,” Buck says. He smiles as she sits down next to him on the bench, throws an arm around her shoulders as she curls into his side. It’s a cool night, but he’s warm from the apartment and the champagne they’ve been drinking (“no liquor during the season” rule be damned), so it’s nice. Nicer still now that Maddie’s here.

“Yeah, but this time is a lot happier,” she says.

It’s true. Four years ago, they were in this same spot at the opposite end of the emotional spectrum — neither going to the Games, Buck with a busted leg, and Maddie without a partner after Doug placed full blame on her for not making the team and dropped her. They’d stayed out all night talking, saying their worst fears and insecurities — about the offseason, the next Olympic cycle, the rest of their careers — into the night, hoping the breeze would take them away and make them feel better. It didn’t, not once the sun came up, but for a while, they could pretend.

Now they sit in the silence that they so often find themselves in together, washed in the lights hanging around the balcony and the sounds of their friends — their family — celebrating inside. They’re in a bubble of happiness now that neither of them wants to break before they have to.

“It doesn’t feel real yet,” Buck says finally. “It still feels like tomorrow Bobby’s gonna call me into his office and say that there’s been a mistake.”

Maddie shakes her head. “There’s no mistake. You earned that spot. We all did.”

Buck rests his cheek on the top of her head. “I’m really proud of you.” She’s been his inspiration for as long as he can remember, the reason he stumbled into this sport that’s become his everything, and to see her dreams finally come true is in some ways better than his own. She was there for everything, exponentially more than their parents ever were, and he can’t even begin to think of how to repay her.

“I’m really proud of you too,” she says. “For everything, not just making the team.”

He blames the stinging in his eyes on the wind and kisses the top of her head as they fall back into quiet, enjoying the peace of the night for a little while longer before rejoining the party inside.

~~~~~~~~~~

Buck basically lives at the rink for the next 15 days, even manages to sleep there a couple nights in a row before Eddie drags him back to his place for actual rest. Every day there’s something new he finds — a jump that needs a cleaner landing, an edge that needs to be deeper, a spin that needs to go faster. Little bits that add up to less than perfect, and they’re putting him more and more on edge as the days tick by. He’s got other responsibilities too — press packages, photoshoots, commercials, interviews — and it’s all a whirlwind, flying past him before he can get a chance to really wrap his head around it all. He’s dreamed of this moment for years, of being able to represent his country and see his face in commercials credited as Olympian, and it’s every bit as gratifying and incredible as he’d hoped, he just wishes everything would slow down for a minute so he can actually enjoy it. 

But it all just keeps moving, so he takes everything as it comes and tries to live in the moments as much as he can, to live in the positives instead of worrying about the negatives that are threatening to crack him if he thinks about them for too long.

The whirlwind turns into a hurricane once they land in Beijing — as soon as they’re through customs, there’s flashbulbs and reporters shouting at them in multiple languages, fans pushing through the crowd for their own photo ops. Eddie’s got that caged animal look in his eyes again as they make their way to the exit, so Buck grabs his hand and squeezes, lets him know he’s still here, they’re here together, and he’ll shove through the crowd to get them out if he has to.

He hopes someone gets a picture of the smile Eddie gives him. He wants it printed and framed and hung on his wall where he can always see it.

The Olympic Village itself is like a luxury apartment complex — 15 high rise buildings with smaller ones around them, housing dorms for every athlete, cafeterias, workout rooms, a general store, even a post office. They have just enough time after the tour to drop their bags in their rooms before they’re whisked off to the Olympic Park to get their credentials and a first look at the skating arena. It looks like any other arena on the outside — big, industrial, a looming presence over the rest of the buildings — but it’s what’s going to happen inside, or what might not happen, that makes it feel all the more imposing, like it’s waiting to swallow everyone whole.

They’re all at dinner when he really starts to feel overwhelmed. As much as he wants to talk with the team and mingle with friends and acquaintances he hasn’t seen in years, he feels twitchy and uncomfortable and everything is just the wrong side of loud. He excuses himself, blaming jet lag and an early workout session, and he ignores Eddie’s concerned gaze as he makes his way back to their room. He flops onto the bed, the only light coming from the dim lamp on the nightstand and the view of the city skyline from their balcony, and he tries to get himself to relax, to settle the electricity jumping all over him.

He doesn’t notice Eddie come in the room until he feels the bed shift, sees him crawl up his body until they’re face to face, Eddie’s arms bracketing his head as he gently rests his weight on Buck.

“You okay?” he asks.

Buck shrugs, hands coming up to rest on Eddie’s hips. “None of this felt real before today, and now we’re here and...I don’t know, it’s almost too real. It’s a lot to take in.”

Eddie hums and leans down, places a feather light kiss in between Buck’s eyebrows where he knows he scrunches up when he’s upset. “Do you need anything from me?”

Buck threads a hand through Eddie’s hair, firm so he doesn’t go too far. “You,” he says, because it’s true — Eddie’s the only thing he wants to see or feel or think about until he feels settled in his own skin again. “Just need you.” He pulls Eddie down and kisses him, unhurried, wanting to take his time and get lost in it, will his brain to shut off and just be. Eddie drops down to his elbows, pushing them even closer together, and Buck gasps softly as their cocks brush together, both of them well on their way to hard. Eddie takes the opportunity to lick into Buck’s mouth and Buck melts, sure it’ll only take a few minutes like this for him to come in his pants like a teenager.

But that’s the opposite of what he wants right now, so he flips them both over until he’s straddling Eddie’s hips and starts kissing down his neck, his hands finding the hem of his t-shirt and slowly pulling it up and off. He takes his time, savors the way Eddie’s breath stutters as Buck swirls a tongue around his nipple, chases the blush moving down his chest with open mouth kisses. Eddie tugs at his shirt, and Buck is more than happy to oblige, stripping it as he moves back up to kiss Eddie again, deeply, soundly, relieved that he can feel the crackling anxiety tone itself down, turn into simmering want instead as he tastes more and more of Eddie.

“Lube?” Buck asks, because Eddie’s hot under his hands and his pants are feeling more than tight and he needs to be in Eddie right now or he’s going to lose it.

“In my bag,” Eddie says, kissing down Buck’s jaw and working his pants down.

“And condoms?”

He feels Eddie smirk into his skin. “I think there are some in that welcome basket they gave us.”

Buck thanks whoever’s listening that those rumors were true. He only trips a little bit as he gets up and grabs everything and strips the rest of the way. When he turns back, Eddie’s stripped too, miles and miles of skin laid out on the bed and Buck’s certain he’s glowing and it’s not just his imagination this time and— 

“God you’re gorgeous.” It’s worth it to see Eddie’s blush get impossibly deeper and move further down his chest.

He kisses Eddie again, a little more frantic, slicking up his fingers and swallowing the moan Eddie lets out when he starts rubbing at his entrance. He works his way in slowly, with every intention of still taking his time, but Eddie’s sighing into his mouth, an unconscious string of “please please please” tumbling out with it, and Buck doesn’t want to deny Eddie anything, ever, as long as he can help it. He moves faster, working in a second finger, then a third, scissoring Eddie open until he’s shaking and panting underneath him.

“Come on, Buck, please—” Buck cuts him off with a searing kiss, pulling away long enough to tear the condom open and roll it on, and then he’s kissing Eddie again and pushing into him, and he’s hot and tight and perfect, and Buck almost blacks out. He picks up a rhythm, steady but not teasing, and tastes every part of Eddie he can reach — his jaw, his neck, his chest, his shoulders and back again. Eddie’s everywhere, completely surrounding him, and he chases his orgasm as it builds in his gut, finesse and any attempt at taking his time quickly forgotten. He can tell Eddie’s close too, feels him clenching down around him, and Buck gets a hand on Eddie’s cock between them, stroking him in time with his thrusts. Eddie bites down on Buck’s shoulder as he comes, spilling hot onto Buck’s hands and on their stomachs, and it only takes a few more thrusts for Buck to follow, the edges of his vision whiting out with the force of it. 

He drops down just enough to bury his face in the crook of Eddie’s neck as they both come down, still wanting — needing — to be surrounded by him. When he can finally breathe again, he pulls out and makes his way to the bathroom, throwing out the condom before finding a washcloth in a cabinet. Eddie’s half asleep when he gets back, but perks up as Buck cleans them both up and manhandles him until they're both under the covers. The bed is on the smaller side to fit two full grown men, but it’s all the more excuse for Buck to plaster himself to Eddie, an arm thrown firmly over his chest and their legs tangled together. 

They lay in the quiet, the only sounds coming from the city below, and Buck finally feels calm, or at least calm enough that his mind’s not racing. His eyes get heavier and heavier, lulled by Eddie’s breathing underneath him and the random shapes he can feel him trace on his back.

“Still okay?” Eddie whispers, stopping his drawing and wrapping his arm around Buck fully.

Buck nods and closes his eyes. “Still just need you.”

Eddie kisses his forehead and whispers, “I’m not going anywhere.” Buck falls asleep with a smile on his face and I love you echoing in his head.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Team USA, get ready, you’re up next!”

Everyone around Buck starts jumping and cheering, hustling toward the exit to get ready for their march in the Parade of Nations. It was almost easy to forget that’s why they’ve been waiting in the bowels of the stadium for two hours in the first place — watching the performances on TV screens placed around the room didn’t quite translate to the fact that they too would be out there soon enough, decked out in full red, white, and blue, waving at the fans and supporters that have traveled from all over the world to watch them compete. It’s how Buck’s watched the opening ceremony ever since he was a kid anyway — glued to the TV, trying to pick out his favorite skaters from other countries as they marched through, picturing himself there so clearly he could practically feel the wind on his face, hear the roar of the crowd so loudly it was like the were in his living room.

It was a fantasy then, but it’s reality now, and Buck wishes he could go back and tell his six year old self that he will get here, and it will feel every bit as amazing as he imagined it would.

By the time they make it to their seats, Buck’s arms feel heavy from waving for five straight minutes, his cheeks hurt from smiling in a million different selfies, and he’s shivering in his designer Team USA uniform.

He wishes he could stay in this moment forever.

There’s some more performances about unity and peace and everything else the Olympics are supposed to represent, until finally, a torchbearer runs into the stadium, carrying the Olympic flame that’s made its way here all the way from Athens. They pass it to the final torchbearer, a decorated Chinese speed skater, who runs it up the short hill to the cauldron, lighting it from below. The flames grow and fireworks go off, people start cheering and dancing around him again, and for all the pinching himself he’s had to do since they announced the team, this is the most real thing he’s felt and may ever feel. The flame in him is blazing too, ready to be set free, and it burns brighter still when he looks to Eddie, his smile wide and his eyes sparkling. In all his wildest dreams, he never imagined being at the Olympics with someone who makes him feel like he’s already won something, but now that he is, that desire to win just keeps growing, fueling the flame more and more.

He kisses Eddie’s cheek and joins in on the celebration. They’ll party tonight and into the morning, but then, it’s back to business.

He’s here for a medal, and whatever the next two weeks try to throw his way, he is not going home empty handed.

~~~~~~~~~~

“I’m gonna throw up.”

“There’s still four teams before they skate, Buck.”

“Perfect, plenty of time to throw up.”

Eddie just shakes his head and focuses back on the ice as the Russian team hits their final pose. As each team gets their scores and doesn’t monumentally fuck up, Buck gets more and more nervous for Maddie and Chim. It’s not that he doubts them, it’s more like he doubts the entire scoring system — they’re only in first by two tenths of a point after the rhythm dance, and anyone could pull ahead enough to beat them at the last minute.

He knows they’ll be amazing. They’re always amazing. Their win just depends on whether or not the judges agree with him today.

The final group comes out to warm up, and Buck and Eddie are on their feet, flags waving high above their heads and cheering with the rest of the supporters’ section. Maddie and Chim spot them from the ice and wave before quickly schooling themselves back into performance mode. They look incredible — Chim in all black and Maddie sparkling in her gold dress — and Buck’s stomach clenches again in the hope that she’ll have a matching medal when it’s all over. 

He feels Eddie nudge him as they sit back down. “You still with me?”

Buck smiles at him and it’s easy, real, despite the nerves still swimming around in him. “Just thinking about how this reminds me of our first date.”

Eddie scrunches his nose. “Autumn Classic was not our first date.”

“It kind of was,” Buck says, shrugging.

“You barely wanted me there, if I remember correctly. Plus May was there too.”

“Okay, so it wasn’t perfect.”

“No,” Eddie says, slipping his hand into Buck’s. “But I think this date makes up for it.”

They fall into an easy running commentary after that, and it’s enough to distract Buck and keep his anxiety at bay. If he tries, he can pretend they are at Autumn Classic again, where the stakes were lower and anything felt possible. It makes him a little less nervous for Maddie and Chim, and a little less nervous for himself, too. The mens’ event starts tomorrow, and it’ll be his turn to get on the ice and prove himself to the judges and most of the world watching from home. If he just keeps pretending it’s the beginning of the season — and not the potentially crushing end — maybe he’ll be able to keep it together.

The announcer introduces Maddie and Chim, and seeing them on the ice, looking confident and excited and ready, settles Buck even more. Their program is classic — classic music, classic costumes — but still fun and technically top notch and undeniably them, and the audience is mesmerized from the very first steps. They hit every line, every pose, every lift, and by the time they transition from the soft tones of “Fever” to the ripping guitar of “Burning Love”, the audience is all in, clapping along to the beat and loudly cheering them on. They hit their final pose, and the whole arena is on their feet, and louder still once they get their final score.

Buck’s not great at math, but he’s pretty sure the last team will need a miracle to beat them.

He holds his breath anyway, right up until the end, until the final team’s score is announced, and Maddie and Chim are officially gold medalists. It’s a blur of celebrating after that, but everything clears enough for Buck to get a perfect view of the medal ceremony and Maddie and Chim’s faces, beaming with joy and slight disbelief, even as the medals are slipped over their heads. 

Buck’s proud, unbelievably so, and happy beyond belief for his sister, but the nerves are churning in him even faster, because now it feels like there’s a precedent, an expectation that he and the rest of Bobby’s skaters will do as well as their teammates. He’s always aiming for gold, but now it feels like it’s necessary, like anything less will be devastating instead of just disappointing. And then what about Eddie? He wants to win just as much as Buck, and Buck wants him to do well, but they can’t have a tie, one of them is going to do better than the other. And won’t that make it all the more heartbreaking when it’s not Buck that comes out on top?

He shoves all that away for now as he and Eddie fight their way through the crowd and down to the green room, because it’s too much and it doesn’t matter, at least not today. What matters is that Maddie is running into his arms, still happy crying, and he lets himself be completely wrapped up in her joy.

He’s proud of her. That’s one thing he knows for sure. That’s what he focuses on and hopes it’s enough to keep the voices quiet until tomorrow.

A christmas buddie fic

This fic is for @fyeahbuddie​ for the 911 gift exchange. @officerrxyes​ Buck was in Eddie's kitchen baking festive cookies with Chris on Christmas Eve. He thought it would be the perfect way to wind down, but it ended up being harder than he imagined. Eddie accidentally added way more. Instead of twenty cookies, they were now baking forty. All three had spent the day out, hanging with friends and family. Unlike last year the 118 wasn't scheduled to work for the holiday, which everyone was thankful for. "How much longer is dad gonna be," Chris asked. Eddie was out buying more frosting because they'd run out. Chris was eager to finish decorating his cookies, and so was Buck. 

"Soon, don't worry." By the time the last batch of cookies finished baking, Eddie had arrived. "Hey guys, I got the stuff!" Chris squealed, "hurry, dad, I wanna decorate my snowman!"  After about an hour of eating and decorating, Chris was put to bed a little past his bedtime. Buck was still in the kitchen, washing dishes because they didn't clean up while they worked. "Buck, thanks for doing this tonight," Eddie said, leaning against the door frame. "Yeah, of course, no problem. You know I love hanging out with Chris." Eddie walked over to the sink, "let me help you out." Buck sat down at the kitchen table with a tired sigh after they finished, "next time, let's not bake cookies from scratch. It's more stressful than rescuing people from burning buildings ." He joked, and Eddie chuckled. He loved making Eddie laugh. "Do you want a drink?" Eddie asked, pulling out a bottle of wine from the cabinet. "Yes, please," Buck said. Eddie handed him a full glass, and they walked over to the couch. "I'm glad we have these two days off. Last year was a bit of a bummer," Buck stated. "You did an amazing job with the surprise Christmas dinner last year. It was super sweet." Eddie said. Buck blushed, "it was nothing." They were lying on their backs on Eddie's living room floor, Buck's head resting on Eddie's chest. Neither of them dared to move; they wanted to stay like this, however long it would last. Moments like this started happening more often, where they would hold each other or touch on another as if they were together. They kept talking and drinking and time flew by. By now, they were drunk and having conversations about their childhood Christmases. "I remember when I was a senior in high school, my parents forgot about Christmas for like, the third year in a row. They were too busy trying to sell the house," Buck said. "They were always too busy for Maddie and me. But always had time to go to some stupid work event."  Eddie ran his fingers through Buck's hair. He stayed quiet, trying to figure out the most comforting to say.Buck sighed, "I'm sorry; I'm treating you like a therapist." "No, you're not," Eddie said. "Yes, I am. You don't even care," Buck stated. Eddie held Buck's chin, gently turning his face so he could look at him. "No, don't say that. I care about what you have to say." There was a moment of silence, and they just stared into each other's eyes. "I want to make you feel safe and heard." Eddie realized he was still holding Buck's face, nearly caressing it. Eddie wanted to kiss him so badly, but they were drunk, and he had no idea how Buck felt. "Eddie," was all Buck could mutter. His heart raced, he hopped Eddie couldn't feel it. Buck was just drunk enough to lean in, just a little. He hoped Eddie got the hint, but his hand let go. "It's already late. Maybe we should get some sleep; we've got a busy day tomorrow." Eddie suggested. Buck's heart sank. "Yeah, you're right," Buck sighed and slowly sat up. Words couldn't explain how stupid he felt; he couldn't believe he thought Eddie would feel the same way. "Goodnight," Eddie said, quickly exiting the living room, leaving Buck with the stupid wine bottle and glasses. ---Eddie woke up the next morning feeling like an idiot. How could he just leave like that, Eddie wondered? Last night's memories were hitting him like a wave, the conversations, how close they were, how drunk they were, Buck's head on his chest. He let his mind wander, thinking about all the things he and Buck will never have together. His alarm went off, disrupting Eddie's thoughts. It was only six-thirty, and Chris wasn't going to be awake for another hour and a half. And Buck was still here, but he didn't want to face him. He didn't want to ruin the perfect memory of last night with reality. Eddie tested the waters with a "u up" text and immediately cringed. "Yea, wanna make breakfast together?" was what Buck sent back. Eddie grinned at the reader like a child. He skipped out of bed and quickly brushed his teeth. "Hey, Merry Christmas," Buck said. His beaming smile made Eddie's heart skip a beat. "Merry Christmas," Eddie said. He looked at the kitchen counter; it was already a mess." Why does my kitchen look like this," Eddie asked. "Because I was looking for bacon," Buck said. Eddie rubbed his temple, "I don't have any bacon." "Oh," Buck giggled, and Eddie couldn't help but laugh too. "Let's just make pancakes," Buck suggested. After putting everything back into the fridge, they began working. Buck knew he was the better cook between the two, and things would've gone a lot faster he did it himself, but he loved doing things with Eddie. "How come mine keeps ending up like that," Eddie asked. They were both standing over separate burners, cooking the pancake mix. "Because you're holding it wrong, lean the pan a bit," Buck instructed. "Like this," Eddie asked. He was still holding it wrong. Buck hesitated for a moment before walking behind Eddie and snaking his hand over Eddie's. "Like that," Eddie asked. "Yeah, like that, Buck assured.  Buck's chest was pressed against Eddie's back. It was just like the night; they didn't mention how close they were to each other; they just enjoyed it. They were on their last pancake. "Good job," was all that Buck could say. He didn't want to make it weird, but this whole situation was strange. He wanted to be with his best friend, who had a kid and was married a few years ago. Buck let go of his hand and walked back over to his burner.  —- It was New Year’s Eve, and Eddie was replaying those two days in his head over and over again, trying to figure what he did wrong. Buck had been distant for a week, only a few conversations at work. “See you guys tonight,” Bobby said as they exited the firehouse. “Captain Maddie and I can only be there for an hour. We don’t wanna be away from the baby for too long,” Chimney informed. “Yeah, Mia is the same way. So I’ll also be leaving early, Hen stated. “No worries, guys,” Bobby said. “But you two will be there all night right,” Bobby asked. “Yeah, you bet, Cap,” Buck said. “Yeah, Chris and I be there all night.  He’s going through a don’t tell me when to go to sleep phase,” Eddie said. They all chuckled, said their goodbyes, and entered their cars. —-Eddie arrived with Chris on time, and the party was already in full swing. Their coworkers, family, and friends were there. “Hey Eddie, hi Chris,” Athena greeted them at the door Harry by her side. “Do you wanna play video games in my room with Denny and me,” Harry asked. Chris turned to look at Eddie, “go ahead. Be safe.” Eddie said, and the boys went off. “What’s been going on between you and Buck,” Athena asked. “Nothing’s wrong, we’re fine,” Eddie lied. Athena raised her eyebrow, “you two are usually joined at the hip, but you came here alone.” “Wow, those detective skills are top-notch,” Eddie joked, but she didn’t laugh. “Buck has been on the phone with Bobby every day, asking him for advice about you. It’s interfering with my life, so please just apologize so I can sleep peacefully,” Athena said. “But that’s the thing. There wasn’t a fight; he just stopped talking to me. I don’t know why,” Eddie explains. “You don’t know why you’re best friend is upset,” Athena asked. Eddie thought about last week for the hundredth time. Did Buck have a problem with how close they were? Did he make him uncomfortable? “Maybe I do know why,” Eddie said. —- "Hey, there you are," Buck heard Eddie say. Eddie had been searching for Buck almost all night. He was sitting on a swing bench in the backyard of Athena and Bobby's house. Eddie stood a few feet away from him as if he was terrified to go near him. "Yeah, here I am," Buck muttered. There was so much Buck wanted to say but said nothing at all. "Can I sit next to you," Eddie asked. Buck nodded, and Eddie walked over and sat down. "Did I do something wrong," Eddie asked, breaking the silence. A look of confusion swiped Buck's face. "No, of course not," Buck said. "Then why are you telling Bobby that we're fighting," Eddie asked, a little annoyed. "I never told him we were fighting; I told him that I messed up our friendship," Buck said. Now Eddie was beyond annoyed, "why would you say that. How could you have ruined our friendship?" There was a long pause. Eddie was sick of the silence."Because... I have feelings for you," Buck confessed, "and we can't be friends if I like you. It's just too weird." He couldn't even look at Eddie while he said this. "Evan, look at me," Eddie begged softly, "please." Buck scanned Eddie's face trying to figure out what he would say next. Eddie's eyes were watery, but Buck couldn't tell if it was because of the cold wind or if he was upset. Eddie held Buck's face, and Buck nearly melted. "I have a feeling for you too," Eddie stated, his voice a little shaky. And just like that, Buck was crashing his lips onto Eddie's. Everything they've ever wanted to say to one another was spoken at that moment. Eddie's hand found their way to Buck's hair, and Buck was holding on to Eddie's waist for dear life. They heard the New Year’s countdown starting, and Eddie pulled away. “Maybe we should join everyone,” Eddie suggested. Buck groaned, “fine.” They shared one last kiss and walked back into the party. A new year, a fresh start to their relationship.

Betrayal (Stan Uris x reader x Richie Tozier Reddie)

Soooo I wrote this a long time ago and put a lot of work into it but then didn’t end up being super happy about the ending and the fandom slowly dying so I never posted it. Revisiting the story and re-writing a few things I have decided to post it so ENJOY!! I couldn’t really come up with a better name if you have any suggestion I would gladly take them.

Warnings: swearing, some sexual references and mentions of sex

aged up 18/19

Bold = flashbacks 

Part 2

You walked into the dinner on a slightly sunny morning in July. It had started to get warmer in Derry but since it was still early in the day the temp was barely out of the seventies. You sat down next to a familiar mop of perfect curls at the bar,

 "I could kill a man for a coffee right about now."

 "Is that so." The boy responded sipping his coffee from his mug. You both let out a laugh. The same waitress as always came over and immediately poured you a cup of coffee without even having to ask.

 "Thanks, Josie." You picked up two packets of sugar and dumped them into your coffee along with a little bit of creamer. After taking a sip the boy looked over to you with a small smile, 

"I guess I shall live another day".

 "Lucky you."

A moan escaped your lips as you were pushed against the wall of the bathroom, basically swallowing each other's tounges. One hand was tangled in the beautiful mess of curls the other rests on his bicep which leads down to his hand at your hip, the other at the back of your neck. Heavy and passionate were two things someone from the outside might call it but you could only feel need. The door open and closed before a voice rang out,

 "I guess you're taking the break up with Richie pretty well then?" Beverly continued over to a stall. You and Stan pulled away from each other, the Uris boy quickly making his way for the door. When he opened it he was met with an older lady and immediately apologized, squeezing his way past her. A blush very noticeable on his cheeks. She walks in and glances over to you "Wrong door" You shrugged. She shook her head knowing better and went into a stall. Beverly walked out and just laughed at you. Failing to conceal a laugh you brought a hand to your mouth. Beverly washed her hands and you both exited the bathroom and walked towards the counter. "Stan took care of it all" Josie smiled. You pulled out your wallet and handed her an extra tip anyway. She smiled and thanked you. 

"Did you walk here?" You asked Beverly as you left the dinner.

 "No Bill dropped me off." She motioned over to Bill sitting in his car, it seems Stan found it first and was leaning against the car talking to Bill. 

"No Haystack today?" 

"He's still sick," She scrunched up her nose in disgust."-But he's getting better." When you looked up at the car you could see someone sitting in the backseat. Suddenly it was like you were fighting with yourself to turn around every step that you took. Beverly looked over to you and mouthed sorry. You told them that you didn't want people taking sides, and you were glad that they didn't. But that doesn't mean it hurt any less to see someone you used to be so close with, and not even have it in you to say hello. Beverly grabbed something from the front seat before joining you by Stan, who was conversating with Bill and the boy in the back seat. You didn't even want to say his name let alone look at him so you just stared at the ground.

 "Bye Bill, see ya, Eddie." You almost winced at his name. As you, Stan, and Beverly walked over to your car you could feel Stan about to apologize. He could barely get out the word 'I'm' before you pointed a finger up at him.

 "I said no apologizing," he sighed and sat down in the passenger's seat," I said no picking sides, and I meant it you do not need to apologize for talking to one of your friends." 

"But I feel b-," 

"I told you not to feel bad either." You looked over at him and showed him a smile. "Now be my DJ, we're going over to Mike's." Stan gladly turned on the radio as Bev in the back groaned, 

"But his music taste sucks,(Y/N)!" you laughed and pulled out of the parking lot.

                                               *          *            *

Mike welcomed the three of you with a smile and directed you towards the living room. Beverly walked up to Mike as you and Stan trailed behind. You could see her whispering into his ear. Being curious as to what was short-lived once Mike turned to you and Stanley.  

"So what have you two been up to today besides playing tonsil hockey in public restrooms?" 

"Subtle. very subtle." You glared between the pair on the couch. Stan looked around the room trying to avoid the question, and you just ignored it entirely. "How's your truck coming along?" 

"Yeah did you get that part Bill said you needed?" Stan butted in. Not even looking at her you could feel Beverly rolling her eyes.  Mike just laughed at your change of subject. 

"Yeah, I just ordered it this morning. Hopefully, it will be the only part I have to order and I'll be driving you losers around in no time."  The four of you spent most of the afternoon talking about a little party you guys are throwing for Ben over here at the farm. He had been gone the most June, out visiting family, and when he came back y'all did a welcome home movie night but he got really sick. So now it was your idea to just throw a whole dang party cuz why not, the kid deserves it. Although the only thing that really makes it a party is decorations. Seeing as it'll just be the eight of you as always goofing around. 

 "I think the final question is," Mike turned around to look at you. "Are you gonna be ok with Richie and Eddie here?" 

You didn't want to answer this question. Everything seemed so different the last time you were all together. It was actually that same night, that Ben came home when you caught them. You haven't spoken to or even seen Richie since that night. Although you still weren't very keen on the idea of seeing them, you weren't even sure how it was all gonna go with your dramatic little ass, but you were gonna face it for Ben. And s' mores.

 "I guess we'll see how it goes." Stan smiled at you, completely unconvinced that this wasn't going to turn into some sort of emotional disaster for you. 

"Have you talked to him at all?" Mike asked. You looked down at your feet causing Mike to put a comforting hand on your shoulder. 

"It sucks, I know. But, next to Bev respectively, you're the toughest girl I've ever met, and Richie is gonna feel like complete and udder shit for at least a month, maybe two, but that doesn't mean that you have to. We're gonna have loads of fun and you're totally gonna forget what a shitty week you've been having." A grateful smile graced your features, 

"Thanks, Mikey." Mike looked over to Stan who was talking with Beverly and leaned in closer to you. "So what's going on with you and Stan?" Mike has been very speculative over what has been going on with you and Stanley. The two of you were in vulnerable states, both going through difficult breakups. Mike didn't want to see his friends in any more hurt than they already were, which made him highly skeptical of your and Stan's, a bit, lusty escapades.

The question through you off a bit. The thing is you hadn't really thought of much about what you and Stan were doing. Neither of you treated it very seriously and were just trying to find someone to dull the pain. It wasn't a very healthy coping mechanism and both you knew that, but anyway threw caution to the wind. For once in his life, Stanley felt out of his head. He wasn't overthinking anything, because it just felt good. And at the moment that's all he really wanted to feel, same as you. Neither of you ever stopped to think that maybe it felt a little too good. So instead of hashing out all the pain and misery the both you just though it easier to get a little horny. You've never actually slept together, but you don't think the rest of the losers believe that. The other day you were at Mr. Keene's store with Bill picking up a few things and he proceeded to throw a pregnancy test at you and said

  "Here I-I'll call Stan and tell him thu-thu-the news" You started at him shocked for a second then threw it back at him. 

"Hardy har har, you want me to track down someone who's ACTUALLY pregnant then leave the test in your mother's bathroom? Hmm, I bet that would lead to an interesting conversation now wouldn't it Mr. Denbrough." You spatted out quickly and both erupted in laughter, then Bill motioned over to Greta sitting behind the prescription pick up counter. After that, you were turning heads with all the noise and loud laughter being made.

"Umm, I don't know. It's just a bit of tension release I guess. Something easy and simple between friends." The words came out of your mouth quickly wanting to move away from the subject. That seemed to be your new hobby, avoiding subjects. You could tell that Mike wasn't trying to pry. He was just worried about the whole thing. You were gonna reassure him that everything would be fine, but for one: You didn't know that and for two: The house phone started ringing. You nodded your head towards the phone and Mike went to take of it.

"This conversation isn't over."

 "Uh-huh," 

Stan walked over to you. "What's the conversation about?" Stan questioned. You sighed

 "Nothing. Just about us." At that moment Stan turned his head down towards your's then immediately stopped what he was doing. The next thing that was about to happen - that Stan stopped from happening - was something that told Stan that this whole thing was gonna come back to bite him in the ass. And that maybe Mike has a point being worried about you two. 

See the thing is, Stan is not a very affectionate person to someone other than who he is in a relationship with. When you are just a friend occasional hugs and a hand on a shoulder are about as touchy-feaey as Stan would get, unless it's movie night then he'll end up resting his head on someone's shoulder. If another loser was standing right beside you sensing your unease and possibly slight confusion, that Stan was sensing, it would be a totally normal Ben thing to just put a hand on your four-arm rubbing gently. And it would be a totally normal thing for Bill to lean down and press a gentle friendly kiss on the top of your head, of course not without a sly remark from Richie. 'But that's over now.' Stan thought to himself. But a thing like that, an innocent little kiss on the top of the head to comfort a friend was not a very Stanley thing to do. Yet there he stood looking slightly down, not being much over a head taller than yourself, having to stop and think to himself about what the heck he was doing. Because that was exactly what he was about to do, press a kiss to the top of your head. 'It's just an innocent kiss! That didn't even happen! Don't you dare overthink this Stan!! Don't ruin yet another good thing with stupid fucking overthinking!!' While yelling at himself in his head his gaze had never left the top of yours. Suddenly his eyes were no longer looking at your head but rather into your eyes. You had leaned your head up to notice that Stan was staring at you. 'Shit! Shit! Shit!' There goes Stan again yelling in his head.

 "Whatcha thinking about Mr. Boy Scout?" In what felt like years to him, Stan finally blinked, swallowed, then answered, 

"Nothing." And with that and much to Stan's luck, Mike walked back into the room.

 "Was just a telemarketer- anyway what are we talking about?" 

 "Absolutely nothing," Beverly smirked at you and Stan. The awkward silence didn't last long when Beverly spoke again. 

 "Uh, I have to drop off something at Richie's" 

"Count me out." The eye roll and tone in Stan's voice hurt you more then you expected. Another totally unexpected feeling was that you suddenly felt bad for Richie. He and Stan had been friends for ages.  It was this exact thing that you didn't want happening when you told everybody not to pick sides. And now you are standing right next Stan listening to the disdain in his voice when Bev mentioned Richie and it almost made you feel sick. 'Girl! Get your shit together! The last person you should feel bad for is Richie fucking Tozier! You lost a best friend because of him, its only fair he looses one too!' your mind screamed at you.’ But that still didn't get rid of that feeling in the pit of your stomach. 

The rest of them have been doing pretty alright with it, according to Bill, Bev has been a little snippy to them, but apologizes. Bill says he's Switzerland and honestly you're thankful for that but it must suck for him the most because of it. He tells Bev that he tries hard not to be mad at them, but he also feels like in doing so it's an injustice to you, so he really just tries to split his time with you guys down the middle. Mike is the true neutral out of them, he really doesn't like the confrontation but has admitted to wanting to punch them both in the teeth at least once. Ben says he is really upset at them and has been telling you that he's only not talking to them that much because he's sick and he hasn't been talking to anyone that much that isn't Bev. But you also once overheard Bill tell Stan that he hasn't even spoken a word to Eddie, on account of the fact that he was the one who introduced you and Richie and that just really struck a chord with him. You brought it up to him once but he faked a coughing fit to avoid it then changed the subject. He and Stan are the only two who have made an effort to avoid or not talk to Richie or Eddie, but as much as you tell them you just want everybody to get along and you don't want anyone else getting hurt you can't exactly control people.

                          *time skip to party*

"Eduardo, àndale, let's go!" You yell to Eddie in the car as you and Richie walk up to Bill's door. You were so excited to see Ben and were always happy to hang out with all the losers. Eddie gets out of the car as Richie opens the door,

 "Billiam, the threesome have arrived!!" You and Richie walk in hand-in-hand Eddie in short distance 

"Quit calling us that, Rich! It's fucking gross!!" Eddie shouted from the doorway, closing the door behind him. You walk into the living room to find Ben. Like always he's sitting next to Beverly on the couch so you venture over there 

"HANDSOME HANSCOM!!! WELCOME HOME!!" He blushes at your nickname and gives you a smile.

 "Thanks, (Y\N)" It felt nice to have Ben back with all of the losers. The bunch of you asked Ben questions about his trip and messed around for about an hour, before deciding to put in the movie. They all look at you and as you were leaning on Richie's shoulder. 

"What?" 

"The movie?" Stan questioned.

 "Oh right! It's in my car I'll be right back." 

You walked out to the car and sat down in the front seat grabbing the movie out of the glove compartment. You open the door to your car as Stan gets out on the other side. Standing in front of the car, preparing to go in, your breath hitches in the back of your throat as you see Eddie's car. Your mouth goes dry and you feel like you just want to crawl back into the car and drive home. Stan walks over to you and puts an arm around your shoulder. Suddenly he feels the same way, letting himself be affectionate like this. But when he looks down at you and sees the look on your face he throws all that aside. Stan squeezes you into his side rubbing his hand up and down your forearm. You take a deep breath and lean into him. Stan feels his heart flutter as he sees and can almost feel you finding comfort in him.  You turn your head to look up to him. You would've felt the same flutter had your mind, heart, and stomach not be so focused on your ex-boyfriend and ex-best friend.

 "It's gonna be alright. Right?" You ask, the smallness in your voice pained Stan. His nervousness was gone now, replaced with anger. Not enough to present on his face, but enough for him to hear your voice ring in his ears when he sees Eddie on Richie's lap when the two eventually get inside. 

"Yeah. Yeah, it's gonna be fine. I promise." He unwraps his arm from and holds out his hand, palm up. 

"You won't start shit with Richie or Eddie?" You said lacing your hand into Stan's, the pair of them dropping down to your sides as you start for the door. Stan gives you a smile and nods 

"Promise." 

You opened the door and entered the house again, this time with the movie. You handed it over to Bill then sat down on the couch next to Ben, on his other side was Beverly at the end of the couch. Mike sat down on the other side of you at the other end of the couch, Stan was sitting over in the recliner beside the couch on Bev's side. Eddie and Richie were on popcorn duty so they were in the kitchen. Far away enough from the loser's sight Richie wrapped his arms around Eddie's waist while he stood in front of the microwave waiting for the popcorn. 

"Stop, Rich, they're gonna see us."

 A muffled "No they're not," came from Richie who was now snuggling his head into Eddie's neck. Eddie looked around nervously for a second. When he saw no one present he relaxed into Richie and leaned his head up against the boy's who's was in his neck. The microwave dinged and Eddie jumped. Richie laughed and let go of Eddie getting a bowl from the cabinet,

 "Scared of a microwave Eds?" Eddie dumped the popcorn into the bowl handing back to Richie,

 "Take this dickwad. And don't call me Eds!" The rest of the losers heard their usual bickering as they entered back into Bill's living room. You gave a smile to Richie and he sat down on the floor at your feet. He handed Beverly the popcorn then grabbed your legs and threw them over his shoulders, leaning his head back. You laughed and your hands went to play with his beautiful, although messy curls.

"Stop! I worked really hard on these curls!" Stan smacked away your hand as Mike opened the door.

 "I just can't!! I'm a sucker for the curls." You whined. Mike laughed, smiling at his friends,

 "Come on Bev is trying to teach us yo-yo tricks." Stan let out a laugh. As you walk into the living room Bill is in front of the couch with one of Ben's yo-yo's failing to do a trick Bev is doing right next to him with ease.

 "You'll get it someday Denbrough." 

"H-h-how about you try it huh?" Bill sassed you, his eyebrows furrowed together, mouth in a pout. You couldn't help but chuckle at his frustration, which could mirror the frustration of a little boy or a toddler even. Your eyes move over to Ben and a smile grows big on your face as you pull Stan over to where Ben is patting the cushion next to him. As you sit down next to Ben your eyes wander toward the back of the room in reaction to your ears hearing laughter. You, obviously, didn't know Stan's eyes were following until you felt his person stiffen like a board 'It's gonna be alright. Right?' the look that you gave him and the tone in your voice haunting his brain, reminding himself to keep a lid on it. There they were right before you, Eddie sitting comfortably in Richie's lap, his legs hanging over the arm of the chair. Richie's arms holding him there securely. They were laughing at Bev doing funny tricks with her yo-yo behind Bill so he wouldn't see, still determined to get the trick right. You hadn't noticed you were staring until suddenly Eddie's eyes were staring right back into yours. Everyone else seemed to notice as a silence fell over the room. Mike coughed and you snapped your eyes down to the floor. 

"So are we gonna play a game or something?" Stan asked, putting a hand at the small of your back rubbing lightly. Ben saw out of the corner of his eye. He saw how your shoulders dropped as your body visibly relaxed. You had noticed it yourself. Ben looked over at Beverly and when she noticed he started quickly shifting his eye back from her to you and Stan. Bev gave him an 'I told you so' look. 

"Yeah, we got games in the closet who wants to play Clue?" 

"Yes!!" You yelled. You and Bill high-fived. 

Stan winced and rubbed his ear "Ow! That was my ear!" 

When Richie finally got the guts to look over in your direction he wasn't expecting to see your hand caringly rest itself on the side of Stan's head 

"Sorry" He heard you say with a soft laugh. One that he knew all too well. A little sign of embarrassment, but not too much that you would go shy. He could also hear the soft sympathy in your voice. He noticed something about it. Not that it was different. No, it wasn't different at all. That was the thing though; your tone wasn't even the slightest bit different from the way Richie remembers your voice sounding. Not when talking to anyone else, but when talking to him specifically. What he heard in your voice was what he had always heard in your voice whenever you would look at him with those eyes full of love and caring. 'But why would you have that tone in your voice talking to Stan,' Richie had wondered to himself. Then he saw Stanley's hand. Up at his ear when you had shouted, drop down to the small of your back. His eyes glued to Stanley Uris' thumb, as he rubbed it against the small of your back in a soothingly intimate way. It made an emotion surge throughout Richie. He didn't quite know what it was but he knew that he didn't like it. 

You were searching around a bit for Richie, confused when you couldn't find him anywhere downstairs. When the movie had finished up Ben didn't feel so good so Beverly took him home. You had gone along for the ride to get some more drinks for the rest of you. When you got back to Bill's, Richie was nowhere to be seen. When you first walked into the house you went to the kitchen with Bill to put away the soda's grabbing one for you and Bev. Going back to the living room you noticed it was only Bev and Mike. 'Geez, where'd everybody go?' You thought to your self. You looked over your shoulder to find Bill headed your way. You turned around and noticed Stan on the stairs face scrunched in frustration on the phone. 'Poor thing' You assumed he was on the phone with Patty, the two of them haven't been along too well recently. You turn back around, 

"Hey, Mike, you seen Richie or Eds?" He shook his head. 

"Richie I don't know, but I thought Eddie was talking to Stan over there." You gave him a small smile and muttered thanks before you went over to Stan. You felt bad disturbing him on the phone but he seemed almost relieved to get out of the conversation. You stuck your hand between the banisters on the stairs and tapped a finger on Stan's knee.

"Hey, have you seen Richie?" You hesitantly ask Bev. 

"He's over there by the stairs with Mike." She smiled reassuringly at you and put a hand on your shoulder. Richie saw you approach the two of them and put his head down expecting you to be there to talk to Mike. But when Mike walked away he looked up surprised.

"Hey, Rich." An awkward feeling settled in the air. 

"Hi" a hint of optimism in his voice. Richie felt relieved that you were actually talking to him, although you weren't all too thrilled about it, you wanted to get it over with. Maybe help things get back to normal. 

"Uh, thanks for letting me and Eds come to the party. I know you, Beverly and Mike planned it so, thanks." A pretty genuine smile mixed with a little unsettlement, not knowing what you were gonna do or say. 

"Well they're your friends too, and the party is for Ben anyway so." Your voice was small and fragile. Richie's felt his body relax. He didn't know if it was because the sound of your voice made me feel like the worst person in the world or because he was relieved that you weren't yelling at him. He supposed it was a little bit of both. 

"I'm surprised they all still talk to me." Upon hearing that, you immediately thought of what you overheard Bill say about Ben not talking to Eddie. 

"I truly don't think they would have cut you off forever, I mean they were your friends before they were mine-" 

"Yeah but your more likable" You chuckled and Richie smiled, 

"The truth is they had talked to me about it and I told them I didn't want anyone taking sides. But still, I think only maybe, Ben and Bev would have given you a real silent treatment. I'm sorry that Stan kinda has." 

"No, No you have nothing to be sorry for. It's all on me. But thank you. For asking them not to pick sides. It means a lot." The hallway fell silent again. 

"I don't want you to get offended or anything, I truly don't mean anything by this,-" Richie was now being overly cautious with his words, he really didn't want to hurt you more than he already has. "I was just a little surprised when Stan cut me off as he did. You two never really seemed that close, now he's practically glued to your hip." 

Richie's tone fell more toward anger as reached the end of his sentence, his mind thinking back to Stanley's hand on your back. A part of him added that in just to hear your answer. Had you already moved on? Is that why you were talking to him because you had moved on to Stan? Why did this upset him so much? When you answered with a little, 

"Yeah, honestly me too." Richie felt not just his confusion grow but also his anger.

This wasn't like Stan. If Stan would have wanted to be in a relationship with you he would have told you. 'Well maybe she just doesn't want to tell you?' 'No.' He thought 'That couldn't be it, she sounds just as confused as I do. What was Stan getting at with her?' Richie was snapped back into reality when Eddie came bounding down the stairs loud as usual, shouting, 

"Mike you're out of band-aids! You should put that on a list or something, do you know how infected cuts can get without the proper bandage or ointment?!" Richie laughed and smiled at Eddie. 

"Do you even need a band-aid?" Beverly asked amused by Eddie's usual antics.

"Well, no but still!" Eddie saw you and froze, but when he saw that you were laughing a bit he relaxed.

He had been extremely nervous to come to the party. It would be the first time all eight of you would be hanging out since you had caught him and Richie. Not to mention it was a party for Ben, and Ben hadn't even talked to him since Beverly told him what happened. Eddie couldn't even count how many times he had asked Richie if it would just be better if they stayed home together. But every single time Richie would reassure him that everything would be fine, even though he was asking himself the same damn question. Eddie was practically shaking about seeing you again. He felt so guilty about going behind your back with Richie, but he couldn't help himself. He had spent all that time in pain thinking Richie didn't love him back, so when Richie actually told him that he was in love with him. It was all Eddie could think about. All the voices in his head telling him how selfish he was being, were tearing at him, but they were pushed aside. He was so tired of longing for Richie on the sidelines. He deserved happiness too. Eddie Kaspbrak was not proud in any way of how he got it, but the happiness he felt when being with Richie was something otherworldly to him. How could he let it go? How could he let something so precious and important to him, something he wanted for so long, slip through his fingers?

"Well hey, me and (Y\N) could g-g-go over to Muh-mister Keene's." Bill threw a wink in your direction 

"I swear to god you throw one more fucking pregnancy test at me, Denbrough!"

Stan shouted, "What?" as the rest of you laughed. You had walked away as Richie's laughter died down when his mind had put two and two together. Richie then put his arm around Eddie and pressed a kiss to his head to try and calm himself down. 'I can't fucking believe he would do this to her!' 

You laughed with the rest of them and sat back down next to Stan who was looking more confused by the second. You explained what happened at Mr.Keene's to him. All of you laugh even more when you bring up framing Bill for knocking someone up. Stan leaned over and whispered in your ear 

"You did tell him we aren't actually sleeping with each other right?" You leaned over to his ear 

"Of course I did. He just doesn't believe me." You both shake your heads laughing 

"Bev and Ben didn't believe me when I told them either." 

"Yeah, I don't think Mike does either, but honestly it's not like we would really believe them if it was the other way around or something." Stan laughed,

 "I might believe Mike, but the others, probably not" 

"And what are you two whispering about?" Bev wiggled her eyebrows. 

"'Oh Stanley I love the way you cuddle up to me in the middle of the night!! You're such a good lover and such a strong man!!'" Bill squealed out in a girly voice. 

"What the fuck!!" You shouted in between fits of laughter. The whole room was in hysterics as Bill threw his arms around Mike. Richie stood by the entrance of the living room with Eddie who was dying laughing. Richie, however, was faking a laugh, trying his hardest to keep his cool. He put on a smile on his face and gave a little chuckle as he told Eddie he was going to get a drink. Mike then threw his arms around Bill the same, playing along. The pair was then pretending to make out, their hands foolishly caressing each other's bodies as they made kissing noises. Stan hoped you were too busy laughing to see the intense blush across his cheeks as he laughed as well. Lucky for him you were doubled over in laughter and lucky for you as well, as you were also hiding a blush behind your laughing. "Is that really how you see us?" You laughed asked Bill before he could answer Richie's voice was heard loud across the living room. 

"Hey, Stanley can we talk for a second?" 

Stan looked over to you. The soft expression on your face almost seemed to calm him.

"Hey, do you know where Richie went?" You asked softly. 

"I saw him go upstairs. I think." 

"Thanks, Stan." You walk up the stairs wondering what the fuck Richie would be doing upstairs. Your eyes immediately go to Georgie's room. You always got a weird feeling from that room ever since he had died. Forgetting about Richie for a second you take a few steps closer to the door of the, now forever, young boy's bedroom. You reached your hand to the handle of the door when you heard a noise coming from Bill's room. You're head snapped around at the sudden noise. You took a deep breath and headed towards Bill's room. 

"Why the hell are you in Bill's room, Richie?" you whispered to yourself. You opened up the door a crack deciding to peep on Richie in hopes of scaring him. You look into the room and see that Richie was with Eddie. Second, guessing whether or not you should go on with the scare, knowing Eddie will you chew your ass out for it, you heard your name in conversation, 

"Hold on I think (Y\N) and Beverly are back." You looked in and saw Eddie going for the windows. Before he could reach one Richie grabbed his wrist and pulled Eddie back next to him on the bed.

 "They went to go bring Ben home, they're totally not back yet just  relax." You notice the soothing tone in Richie's voice. Usually, when Eddie is freaking out over nothing Richie just sounds annoyed. You've never really heard him be soft with Eddie like that. Which drew you to the conclusion that he was being soft for a reason. 'But why would Eddie be so worried about me and Bev coming back?' You watched as Richie put a hand on Eddie's shoulder. 'What the hell is going on here?' You continued to watch Richie's hand very closely as it traveled from Eddie's shoulder up to his neck with a thumb rubbing gently behind his ear. Your confusion grew more and more with every passing second. Eddie then put his hand up to Richie's. 'surely to swat him away' you instinctively thought. Only he didn't, instead, he gently held the other boy's hand. You could feel your throat begin to dry, slowly becoming hard to swallow. You watched as Richie leaned in and rested his forehead against Eddie's. Everything in you stiffened as you begged for it all to be over. For Eddie to say, 'what in the world are you doing?'. Or for Richie to playfully shove Eddie over messing around. For the whole scene in front of you to fade away like some sort of hallucination. Hell!, maybe even for someone to say 'what about (Y\N)?' at that point you would take anything. Any sort of hesitation or wavering. But your internal pleas would never be answered. Probably never even heard no matter how loud they were screaming from inside of you. You were forced to watch by eyes that couldn't pry themselves away from the scene before them, almost like they were watching for answers or confirmation of what seems now to be what has been happening behind your back for God knows how long. You felt your stomach drop, your heart, and it plummeting down together. As Richie, confident as ever, took Eddie into his arms connecting their lips together with such passion. Your eyes couldn't watch any longer. Before you even knew what you were doing, your hand had balled into a fist and slammed itself against the white bedroom door. Two loud bangs echoed through the house: The first one from your fist connecting with the door, the second from the door hitting the wall of Bill's bedroom. Leaving a large dent Bill would have to explain to his mother later. The two boys jumped from the sound. So had everybody downstairs. Their eyes wide faces drained of any color, you wouldn't be able to think they could get any paler. But when they realized who was at the door, who made that noise. It was almost like they had turned to ghosts. Eddie looked into the eyes of his best friend. He didn't think eyes could hold so much rage yet so much heartbreak at the same time. It was enough to make him nauseous. He would have bet you good money that at that moment he would vomit. At that point, you had started to cry. Richie stood frozen his face-melting from shock into guilt as he watched the tears stream down your face. As if this wasn't humiliating enough, being cheated on with your best friend, when you turned around to run, you were met with the confused faces of all your friends, except Ben of course. 

"What happened?" Mike asked looking at you with sympathy. 

"They're fucking!" You stated with anger and betrayal. Beverly looked at the two with anger. 

"NO! No! We would never not while (Y\N) and I..." You couldn't hear the rest of what Richie was saying as you raced down the stairs to get out of there. Stan following in suit as Richie walked into Mike's room. Stan walked to the opposite side of the room as Richie closed Mike's bedroom door. Stan didn't know what Richie wanted with him, what he knew was that he did not want to be in that room with Richie, hell he didn't even want to be in that house with Richie. Stan didn't quite understand why he felt this fucking mad at Richie, all he knew was that he was this fucking mad at Richie. And with that much anger, he didn't know how to keep it in. Nor did he want to. Of course, Richie just wants to go back to being friends, he just wants his best friend back and everything to be back to normal. And that's what Stan thinks this whole thing is about. But boy was Stan unaware of the shit show that Richie was about to load on him. Stan stood against Mike's dresser, arms crossed waiting for Richie to spew some shit about, forgiveness or going back to normal, starting over. His eyes were almost already in the back of his head just thinking about it. Stan was starting to question just truly naive Richie was thinking things could just go back to nor-

 "What the fuck do you think you're doing taking advantage of (Y\N) like that!" 

Hold up, wait, WHAT! Stan looked at Richie like he had grown three heads, eye sharp like daggers, 

"What in the actual hell are you talking about?" his voice was cold and stern. Stan could not believe what Richie had just said to him. How fucking dare Richie of all people accuse him of taking advantage of (Y\N)! Richie flailed 

"I saw how she was with you, I heard what Bill said! How could you be so fucking carel-" Stan wouldn't even let Richie finish that last word. 

"Don't you even fucking say it." Stan may have looked calm before, but now you could see everything in his demeanor change. Sharp, anger-filled eyes, clenched jaw, clenched fists, with tall erect posture. Richie swallowed stopping for a second. There was still nothing changing his mind on what he believed Stan to be doing. 

"What is wrong with you, why would even think it's ok to just use (Y\N) for sex!?-" Stan was fueled with rage, he couldn't believe that Richie would think that. He has known Stan for years, and after all this time, this is the conclusion he makes about him. He watched as Richie shouted as he paced back and forth, spewing his mouth like a damn hypocrite, arms flying through the air and in Stan's face. Stan had just about had enough, 

"Cuz, of course, it never crossed your mind for even a second that I might actually care for her!" Richie was just about out of breath with anger, small pants were in between his words as he said: 

"If you really cared about her you would have left her alone not taken advantage of her while she's vulnerable." Stan didn't even need time to process that sentence before his mind had decided what would come out of his mouth. The truth. The last sentence to come out of Stan's mouth was something that Richie, the rest of the losers listening through the door, and LEAST of all Stan expected to hear. It was like something in him just snapped. The whole conversation, if you could call it that, Stan was able to keep his composure. He was never really one to yell, but something had just taken over him as he walked up to Richie,

"Oh really, you want to talk to me about caring about (Y\N), wake up and smell the roses Richie YOU FUCKING CHEATED ON HER!!! WITH HER BESTFRIEND!! YOU ARE THE REASON SHE'S IN A VULNERABLE PLACE! DON'T YOU STAND HERE AND TRY TO TELL ME THAT I DON'T CARE ABOUT HER YOU PIECE OF SHIT! I'M THE ONE THAT FUCKING LOVES HER!" 

They do say it makes you crazy. That's exactly what happened with Stan, over the year and a half that Eddie introduced her to the group and Richie and her starting dating, Stanley Uris had fallen in love with her. And it had made him crazy, either he wasn't able to admit it to himself, having had both been in relationships at the time of the meeting and falling for the young lady, or he was just that stupid and blind that couldn't see he was in love with (Y\N) (Y\L\N). Stan walked over to the door, twisting the handle, looking straight ahead avoiding all eye contact with anybody, walked out the door. (Y\N) trying to catch up right behind him.

All You Need Is Love~

Hi! I haven’t been on Tumblr in over two years.. and I just found this short little draft piece I wrote the last time I was here. It’s something that I put a lot of heart into when I first wrote, and I decided to publish it after all this time. If anyone has any requests for fics or anything, please let me know! I’d love to get back into writing. 

Quick disclaimer; I wrote this a long time ago, and i had no personal experience with OCD, so if this story is completely off I do sincerely apologize! If I got anything wrong, please feel free to *nicely* give feedback and let me know what I screwed up on!

Trigger Warning- self harm ///

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

The nights like these were the ones that made Stan regret every decision he's made since he was ten.

Ten was the age when his OCD had slowly started to take over his brain, along with everyone and everything else in his life. At first, it wasn't that bad; just weird that a young boy folded all of his socks and kept everything in order.

What it became over the years, however was a monster over his shoulder. He couldn't sleep at if his sheets weren't tucked, clean and flat. He couldn't just touch something with one hand and not the other without pinching himself, HARD, on both wrists.

When pinching didn't help him anymore, he started putting his hands over lit candles. Which led to razors across wrists, in perfect alignment and symmetry every time.

He didn't know what was wrong. Why couldn't he be normal like his friends? Play at the quarry and have fun without worrying about his feet being perfectly side by side or if his hair was in perfect circle curls. Stan Uris was starting to go mad.

He sat on top of his window sill, looking up at the moon and the stars with a specific... glow that night. His ears were ringing from the yelling he just received from his father about the way Stanley practices his religion.

So what if he honestly didn't give a shit about reading his Torah? Stan had started believing that this was all bullshit; if there was a god out there somewhere he would not let Stan suffer the way he was.

He thought about running over to Richie's, but he knew he had probably ran over to Eddie's for the same reason. Ben's? His mother would talk with his father.... no, that's the last thing he NEEDED.

Beverly and Mike were out roller blading that night alone since everyone else couldn't seem to keep up with the two.

The only person left he could think of was Bill. The boy with the silky pale skin and eyes that made Stan melt. Bill may have been babysitting Georgie that night but honestly, Stan loved that kid and would take any distraction he could get.

And that's how Uris ended up tapping on the pale boy's window, once with each index finger. Twice. For a few seconds, there was nothing, and before Stan could walk away the window slammed open.

"Hey B-bird boy! How can I assist y-you?"

God, did Stan love this boy.

But he rolled his eyes, "Don't call me that, Billiam. Can I crash here tonight?"

They made a knowing eye contact. Bill was the only one who knew about Stan's sad excuse for a father besides for Richie. He planned to keep it that way.

Bill smiles, "Well, are you g-guh-gonna come in?"

The curly haired boy feels himself pulled into the warm room and immediately feel into the familiar bed. It smelled like cinnoman and microwave popcorn.

"Did it h-happen again, Stan?"

He didn't answer, just stared up at the ceiling. He felt a gush of wind as Bill shut the window, run along his wrists.

Stan was wearing a short sleeve shirt.

"Stan?"

"Hmm?"

Bill sighed, "You can t-tell me anything, okay?"

Stan nods frantically, "Yes of course Big Bill....do you have a sweater I can borrow? It's freezing."

The boy oblidged, rummaging through his closet before finding his Ghost Busters hoodie and handing it to the boy.

As Stan reached for it, Bill audibly gulps. His eyes widen, and he scratches his own wrists.

"S-s-Stan?"

The curly haired boy was too busy putting on the hoodie to notice what Bill was freaking over. As soon as he got it over his head though, he squealed.

"Bill, it's not-"

Bill coughs, "How long?"

"What?"

"How long have you been doing this to yourself!" Bill's voice cracked, but it never stuttered.

Stan realized how serious this was.

He lowers his head, "Since I was twelve."

The pale boy's eyes bulged out of his skull. He takes a step back.

"So for the past three years... why d-didn't you tell me?"

"Because I knew this would happen!"

Bill raised an eyebrow, "...what to you mean?”

Stan could feel his heart racing a million miles per minute... it was almost as if he could feel the imprint of his heart if he touched his chest. He knew Bill was angry at him, shit he’d be angry at himself. He wanted to tell someone, anyone, but every time he tried the words wouldn’t come out. 

And that’s what happened this time, too. He opened his mouth to speak... but the same lump in his throat formed. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak. Tears pooled in his eyes, blurring his vision. Stan started to pinch himself, hard, two times on each wrist repeatedly, begging for it to help him calm down. Nothing was working.

Stan could hear Bill trying to talk to him, but it was almost as if he was screaming from a distance. His body turned to jello, and felt himself double over into Bill’s arms. 

He didn’t want to disappoint anyone ever, and now he’s disappointed one of the most important people on the planet.

As Stan came to, he could feel the warmth on his back from Bill’s arms, holding him firmly and calming him. His breathing slowed, his heart began casually thumping at a normal pace. The curly headed boy allowed himself to lay his head in the crevice of Bills shoulder.

“I didn’t... I didn’t want to disappoint anyone.” It came out in between sniffles and coughs, but god damnit it came out and that was all that mattered.

Bill lifted up Stan’s head, and used his thumbs to wipe the tears off the boy’s cheeks. He looked directly into Stanley’s eyes, and Stan could feel himself swimming in the deep pools.

“I will never be disappointed in you struggling.”

The two boys hugged for a couple of minutes; neither knowing what to say,  instead allowing the silence to speak for them. Every second that passed, the tighter the two squeezed, and the more safe Stan felt. He hadn’t felt this safe since the last time his mother tucked him in at night. 

Suddenly, there was padded footsteps coming down the hall, followed by a quiet knock at the door.

“Billy...? The timer went off for the brownies a couple minutes ag-”

Bill jumped, and looked up over at Stan, “I t-tuh-totally forgot, tonight w-w-was movie night. Do you want to j-j-join us?”

“Yes please,” Stan couldn’t hold his laughter at Bill’s fluster, as he ran out to check the oven.

When Stan sat on the Denbrough couch, with his head on Bill’s shoulder and Georgie laid across his lap... he realized everything would be okay in the end. He bit each of his cheeks, smiled, and looked up at the opening scene.

Metathesiophobia (Scriddler)

Gotham has seen its fair share of chaos in the past years, but nothing could prepare them for the trouble that started brewing when two certain rogues met under the not-so-loving roof of Arkham Asylum.

Chapter Two:

The Air Went Out

Every gaze turned to the ginger, all eyes plastered on him, and boy was he enjoying the attention he was getting. He sucked it up like a sponge. The guard left some time ago, probably to get some coffee or just sit in peace with the other guards until rec time ended. Edward didn’t dare move from the doorway yet, he almost didn’t breathe. The silence of the room was suffocating, the lack of movement tormenting and the little whispers that occasionally broke through the air were lost to the wind. They looked at him, they stared as though he was some miracle or saint, and he was loving it. Oh, how he craved it, he had craved it for months now, the attention, the admiration.

In return, he eyed them all, brilliant and cunning lime eyes scanning the room. His gaze didn’t linger, didn’t for a moment focus on one rogue in particular, and yet it felt as if his eyes had pierced them all. Crane could swear that he’d never seen a brighter hue of green in a person’s eyes. The curiosity of a child ever so present, yet masked by professionalism and experience, the kind which came with age. And yet he seemed so young, so boyish, so unlike a rogue.

Breathing became easier for everyone in the room when Edward made his first step, yet all eyes were still on him. A smirk dawned his face as he moved across the room, to the couch where Oswald and Harvey were watching TV. Edward found a certain form of comfort in Oswald’s company as they had been on good terms for a while now, and it was always good to see a familiar face in a place like this. And as for Harvey, it was safe to say that there was this mutual hatred between them.

Jon had never been gladder that a person avoided him in his life. This man was his complete polar opposite, and as stunning as he was, Jonathan wanted nothing to do with him. Harley, on the other hand, was freaking out, whispering things like “Professah we gotta talk to him!” or “Jonny he seems interesting! Let’s go up to him!”

Crane, frankly, didn’t see the appeal. And yet he couldn’t take his eyes off the ginger man. There was just something about him, it didn’t click. He was TOO perfect. This man, seemingly flawless, was in an asylum for murdering people. There had to be something more, something hidden beneath that façade. Maybe Harley saw it too, or maybe she just saw the handsome yet deadly man that everyone else saw and wanted to get his attention. Jon wasn’t sure, but he didn’t care much, as whatever she had seen wasn’t important. What was important was that he wanted to avoid any contact with the green-eyed devil.

Too late had Jonathan realized that he fucked up by not looking away. Edward cast him a glance, still talking to Oswald, and as he saw how Crane’s eyes were trying to read him, he locked his gaze with the auburn-haired man. Land met water, the ground met the sky and they stayed like that for a few passing moments before Crane broke off the staring competition, tuning back into whatever Harley was saying. She was still rambling about talking to him.

“Don’t let me stop you child, but I have no desire to talk to that,” he needed a moment to find the right words “that flamboyant pin-up.” As he finished, Harley rolled her eyes, then she sighed sadly, then she rolled her eyes again, which was followed by another sad sigh.

“But Professahhhhh pleaseee.” She whined, and Crane almost wanted to give in. “Don’t make me use the nuclear option.” She said, trying to sound serious. Now, Crane was in no mood for publicly embarrassing himself, but if Harley went trough with her ‘nuclear option’, they’d both be crying messes on the floor, and that wouldn’t be pleasant. It was either that or talking to the rather lavish man. Crane wanted nether, but the decision was made before he could do anything about it, as he realized Nygma was approaching them, his eyes glued on Crane.

As he stopped at their couch, Harley almost squealed. Up close Crane could clearly see the brilliance behind those eyes. His face was relaxed, yet he looked so confident, looking down at Jonathan, analyzing him now that he could see him up close. The blue-eyed man, on the other hand, was eyeing Nygma like he was a mouse. His gaze was piercing, dangerous, and the eerie blues were almost glowing from behind his glasses.

“Scarecrow. Quinn. Pleased to meet you. I am Th-“

“The Riddler, yes, we are aware, now if you would kindly fuck off, it would be much appreciated.” Jonathan cut in coldly, trying to make it clear to the Riddler that he simply did not care and that the man just wasn’t welcome there. Nygma’s face soured, but before he could make a rude remark and start complaining about being rudely interrupted, Harley snapped out of her exited trance and whacked Jonathan across the shoulder.

“Jonathan please! Give Eddie a chance!” She scolded, almost like a disappointed mother, and who could blame her. She wanted the best for her friend, how was he supposed to have friends who weren’t Harley when all he did was shut down people. “You’ll have to excuse him, Eddie, he’s always like this. And please, no formalities, that’s Harley for ya.” She looked at Edward and reached her hand out towards him to shake it. Nygma shook her hand, and Harley had to take a moment to acknowledge how soft his hand was. When they let go, Harley scooted over closer to Jonathan and smacked her hand onto space next to her, motioning Eddie to sit down. He happily obliged, and he and Harley immediately started talking about something. Jon wasn’t completely sure what, as he had tuned out again the moment Harley smacked his shoulder. The only thing he did overhear was Nygma saying “Where’s the southern hospitality, Crane?” which almost made Jon strangle the man.

Something, he didn’t know what, but something made Jon look at Edward's face again. He was closer now, and if anyone asked Jonathan, he’d say Nygma was far too close for his liking. The upside was that now he could see some small details which were hardly visible from a distance.

For instance, how sharp his facial lines were. His jawline was strong, almost as strong as Crane’s own. The sharp cheeks, the pointy, button-like nose, strong freckles. The worst part of it was that Edward made it look so beautiful. The bright ginger hair, the stunning green eyes you could just get lost in, the god damned freckles which some would have found hideous, but they just made him look all the more stunning. He was so gorgeous, but there was something, and yet again Crane couldn’t pin what it was, but there was something wrong. Off in a peculiar kind of way.

His train of thought was broken as Nygma’s eyes met his own again. He was still talking to Harley, fully concentrated on their conversation, yet the way he locked his gaze onto Crane said otherwise.

This man, Jon decided, was a puzzle. And it had been so long since Jonathan had a challenge in this place. So there and then, as he glared straight into Edwards’ eyes, he promised himself he’d break this man.

-

On Friday, the doctors decided to try the group therapy method once again. Harley and Crane were silently judging the staff as they were being led to the room. In a circle were seated the unfortunate doctor under the name of Gilbert Ferber, next to him sat Oswald, then Harvey, afterward came Garfield, then Edward, next to him sat Ivy, then Harley and finally Jonathan. 

Dr. Ferber looked beyond nervous, after yesterdays accident he was very unsure that this method would ever actually work. Still, after being pressured by other doctors he decided to give the group therapy another chance, thinking that it might actually do some good.

Boy was he wrong.

-

“Nygma if you don’t shut your mouth, I will blow your face off!” Dent thought it was a good idea to have a shouting contest with Edward after the ginger had pointed out how ridiculous the whole coin-tossing business was. The moment he pointed out that Harvey was basically useless without his coin to make his decisions for him, Harvey lost it.

The doctor was trying to calm them down, pointlessly so. Jonathan just leaned back and waited for chairs to start flying.

“Riddle me this, Jekyll! I am there when you're born, yet I begin to fade away from day one. I will stay until death even if you choose to erase me. Maybe even more, if you pass me to your children. My worst enemy? It once killed, but not a human being. What am I?” Edward said, seemingly unphased by the sudden outburst of the two-faced bandit. His eyes were burning holes into Harvey, and as Crane looked at Nygma, he saw the insanity behind his glare. Those brilliant lime orbs held so much emotion, so much curiosity, so much madness. There was a line between a genius and a madman, and Edward was standing right on that line, leaning to neither side in particular.

“The answer to that, Harvey, is your downfall. It’s the reason you’ll never get better.” His tone was as cold as his gaze. Dent jumped off his chair and furiously stomped over to Edward and grabbed the freckled man by the throat. Edwards glare didn’t falter. No, not at all, in fact, there was something in it that reminded Crane of the way he looked at Nygma yesterday. Like a predator eyeing its prey. There was no fear in his eyes even though Harvey could snap him like a twig. This brought up a question in Jon’ s head. What was a man like Nygma afraid of?

It was safe to say that Edward had successfully piqued Jonathan’s interest.

Edward sat so very still, and the air was perfectly still, and everything in the room was just still, not even the shadows dared to move. That is until the guards rushed in and took Harvey away. Dr. Ferber sighed deeply. This had yet again lead them nowhere. After all of the participants refused to respond to anything the doctor said, he was really close to dismissing the whole session and letting the inmates get back to their cells.

And then Harvey decided to start flipping his coin, which Edward, of course, commented on without any hesitation. That was followed by all hell breaking loose.

He was sick of his job.

Nygma eyed Crane again, and Jon stared right back, amusement visible in his eyes.

Yes, Crane thought, breaking this man will be an experience to remember.

-

“Ignorance?” Asked Crane as he stood in the cafeteria line next to Nygma. He honestly had no idea what suddenly possessed him to talk to the annoying ginger, and he prayed that Edward didn’t hear him. Luck wasn’t on his side, however. The shorter man looked up; the confusion was written all over his face.

“What?” Asked Edward after a few awkward moments of silence had passed between them. He was desperately searching for an answer in Jon’s blank expression, but his attempts were fruitless. Crane would rather be shot in the head than be forced to admit that the baffled expression looked good on Edward. Then, most things did. Crane shook his head; he was losing his train of thought; he was getting distracted.

“The answer to the riddle you asked in group yesterday. Is it ignorance?” Edward’s face immediately lit up as he nodded frantically, and a small smile appeared on his face. Not one of those smiles he gave to anyone who he wanted to charm, not the fake, seductive smile, but a genuine one. And Crane suddenly realized he didn’t really want to break Edward. No, he wanted to know him. And that thought terrified him.

“Riddle me this Jonathan Crane, didn’t you tell me to, and I will paraphrase, “kindly fuck off” yesterday?” Nygma said, his face suddenly returning to its usual expression, which was a mix of cocky and bored. A grimace plastered itself upon Crane’s face. Maybe I do want to break him.

“Riddle me that, indeed.” He said almost bitterly, realizing that this was just Edward messing with his head. Like he always does. He heard the rumors which arose since Thursday. Rumors spread through Arkham faster than they did through his hometown back in Georgia, which was quite impressive, given the fact that in Georgia if someone stole something at 9 AM, by noon of the same day everyone would already know.

Edward was known for messing with people, making them think in a certain way, just so they would do something for him. Crane should want to break him, he should yearn for it, and yet something deep inside begs to differ. This man was dangerous.

A dangerous enemy indeed. But a useful ally.

No, no, no! This train of thought would be the end of him. Nothing good can come from actually being on good terms with this man. Hell, with how flashy Nygma was, Jon was willing to bet the Bat would catch them the moment they stepped out of Arkham.

But he’s so smart, he’s the only one in here who seems to be able to hold intellectually stimulating conversations besides Harley.

Crane was going to need to think this over carefully over the next week, but for now, he might as well try making Harley happy by being friendly.

“You wanna come sit with Harley and me?”

Longest Night (4)

Ao3 | FF.net

Then it came time for patrol. And here, dear reader, is where it all goes wrong.

A fall evening, not long after sunset, cool winds, but not unpleasant. Ladybug and Chat Noir were doing their weekly rounds. Looking for any sign of Hawkmoth or an Akuma. But so far, nothing ‘super’ had been seen.

Ladybug arrived at the Eiffel Tower first, having left 15 minutes ahead of time out of restlessness.

Still, Chat was late, and she made sure to mention it as he landed next to her with a ‘thwump’.

“You’re late, Kitty.”

“My apologies, it’s so rude to keep a lady waiting.”

“You better have a good excuse.”

“But of course!” He smiled. “Caught a pickpocket on the way here. Walked him to the police station and had him turn over his wallets. They’re taking it from there.”

“Good Kitty!” She praised, scratching under his chin.

He relished in it. “What about you? You…you don’t look so hot. You feeling okay?”

She shook her head. “I feel fine Chat. Just…just a bad day. I don’t really want to talk about it.”

“Are you sure?”

She offered a smile. “Maybe after patrol, if I’m feeling like it.”

“Okay. You can talk to me about anything, My Lady. I don’t judge.”

“I know. It’s just…its fresh. And I don’t want to cry anymore.”

His ears flattened to his head. “Oh…”

She sighed, trying to breach a new topic. “ugh, I haven’t seen a thing. I haven’t even seen any angry couples fighting.”

“We could fight?” He offered.

She rolled her eyes at him. “Very funny.”

“I thought it was!”

“Give it up Chat, you’re going to win me the day pigs fly.”

“Be careful what you wish for. You never know, Hawkmoth might make a flying pig Akuma.”

She hummed. “You know, that wouldn’t be the weirdest Akuma he’s made.”

Chat laughed, “besides, there’s nothing wrong with being a little flirty, right?”

“As long as it’s not in the middle of a fight.” She reprimanded.

He held his hands up in surrender. “Of course, of course.”

She offered a smile. “Well, I’m going to check the docks first. Been catching a few drug deals happening down there.”

“Good idea. I’ll double back on Barbes Boulevard. Just to double check.”

“Call me if you need backup.”

“Likewise, Bug. Be safe.”

“You know I will.” She blew him a kiss and leapt away towards the Seine.

The docks were never really a civilian hotspot. People rarely even went there in the day, unless they worked there. So at night, it was safe to assume anyone there was up to no good.

So of course, when Ladybug saw headlights shining in an alleyway, she knew something was up. She crept over, and watched from the rooftop.

There were several men, most in expensive suits. One with a white suit that Marinette could already tell was so luxurious, her father couldn’t afford it with two years profits at the bakery.

The man himself was huge, reminding her of Kingpin from the Spider-Man comics Alya had in her bathroom. He stood in front of the head lights, his shadow cast against the ground and to the wall somehow bigger than his associates.  

About five men, including this rich one, were facing a young man, in a classic showdown.

The large man spoke, his voice ricocheting off the wall and settling in her stomach with nausea. “I gave you a month. That’s more time than I’ve ever given anyone before. I saw promise in you. I took you in.”

“Eddy, please—“ The younger man begged. Ladybug couldn’t see his face, but she could hear his panic.  

The man grunted.

“M-Mr. Savauge. You gotta understand! I was doing great! I made all of it back, with interest! But-but my buddy double crossed me! He took all of it. But I know where he’s going! If you give me just a little more time—“

Ladybug took out her compact and silently sent her coordinates to Chat.

“Charles...” the man, this Mr. Savauge drawled out. “This was your last chance. I warned you in the beginning. You’re just not made for dealing. Not dealing cards, not dealing drugs...but I will get my money from you. And I know...just what to do. Got plenty of rich old bitches looking for companions.”

“No...no please sir! I don’t want to do that! I got a girl! I can’t do that to her!”

“No girls huh? That’s fine, got lots of bull queers too. They’d love that cute little ass of yours.”

“No! No please!!”

Mr. Savauge laughed, a sick sound that made Ladybug curl her lips in disgust. “I’m just kidding, Charles. You’re too ugly to be a prostitute.”

The other men laughed.

Mr. Savauge held up a fist, silencing them. “You know Charles, it’s surprisingly easy to get information on people these days. Especially for someone like me. I know everything! I even know who Hawkmoth is!”

Ladybug gripped her yo-yo. She would be confronting this man, one way or another.

“So you know, trying to hide you and your wife’s life insurance policy from me? It ain’t gonna cut it.”

“No...please not my wife!”

“I’m not gonna touch your wife. That is, as long as she complies. You’re worth more dead than alive to me, Charles. And I much as I liked your spunk, I’m going to have to make a decision based on business.”

There was some clicking noises as the man’s goons withdrew guns.

“Nothing personal, kid.”

Ladybug leapt, her yo-yo spinning to create a shield, as she landed in between Charles and the fire.

“Hold it!” Mr. Savauge called out.

The gunfire ceased, and Ladybug stopped spinning her yo-yo. But she was still on defense, ready to start again at a moment’s notice.

From this perspective, the man was just a silhouette against the light. LED headlights, super bright, made her squint.

“Why, if it ain’t the cutesy little bug girl. What’re you doing here, kid? Don’t you got a moth to catch?”

She answered calmly, her voice a pitch deeper than usual. “I happened to be in the area. I overheard you mention you know who Hawkmoth is.”

He barked out a laugh. “It’s an expression! Come on, no one knows who that psychopath is.”

But Ladybug still didn’t budge. She fixed her glare on him.

“Oh, you really got that menacing look down! If you weren’t an actual child, I might be scared!” He chuckled. “But I’m being honest Ladybug. I don’t know who Mothman is. Don’t know, don’t care. Now move along, this doesn’t concern you.”

“I promised to protect Paris, and that’s what I’ll do.”

The man winced, “man, superhero types are just no joke. Fine, have it your way, Bug. Open fire.”

Ladybug spun her yo-yo frantically as a hail of bullets came raining down on her and Charles. She felt his hands on her back, and knew he was trying to hide behind her.

“Distract them for me, okay?” He said into her ear.

“Wait! Don’t!”

But it was too late. Charles tried to run. He only made it a single step out from her shield, before being shot several times in the chest. He didn’t even scream. Just stopped, collapsed onto his knees, and fell flat on the ground.

“No!” Her line fell slack for a moment and a bullet whizzed just passed her cheek, leaving a burning sensation just below the mask line and a ringing in her ears. She snapped back to attention quickly, and avoided any other nasty blows. The gunfire was suppressive and her arms were getting tired.

Her saving grace came from her partner arriving, coming up behind the goons and taking them out quickly, before they could turn to shoot.

But that didn’t mean they didn’t try.

Chat weaved in between them, not standing still and always staying close enough to be a risk of them shooting each other.

Ladybug took the opportunity to also take out a goon, who had been distracted. A clear shot with her yo-yo to the back of the head, and the gun fire ceased.

Mr. Savauge had wisely ducked down during the fight, and right as he returned to his feet, he found himself tied up in a yo-yo line.

“End of the road, scum.”

“Scum? Me? Do you even know who I am?” He laughed. “Who am I kidding, of course you don’t.”

Chat stood opposite Ladybug, effectively cutting off the exit should he try to escape. Not that he would be able to break his bonds though.

“I don’t care who you are. A young man is dead because of you. I will make sure you go to prison for your crimes.”

The man laughed. “That’s real cute bug. Real cute. But here’s the thing, I’m Edward Savauge. I can buy and sell you. I know every dirty secret of every cop and politician in Europe. You try to do anything to me, and I promise you’ll suffer instead.”

Her line grew tighter.

“I’ll give you to the count of three to let me go...1...”

“Don’t listen to him, my lady. He’s full of hot air.”

“2...”

Ladybug didn’t waver. She didn’t even consider it.

“...3...we’re enemies now, Ladybug. You’re going to regret that for the rest of your short life.”

“Get in line.”

Neither party said another word until the police arrived. Ladybug explained the situation, but there was little to explain, considering the guns and body on the ground.

Mr. Savauge was taken away without a word.

After all was done, now long after midnight, the heroes returned to the rooftops.

“My lady, you’re bleeding.”

“I know, I can feel it. Must have been a bullet.”

“Who was that guy?”

“Some gangster drug lord pimp. I don’t know. A bad dude.”

“Well, he’s going to prison.”

“...I hope.”

“You hope? There was a body on the ground with gunshot wounds, and a whole bunch of guns! There’s no way!”

“Something he said bothered me. About knowing everyone’s secrets. He even claimed to know Hawkmoth’s identity.”

“...you don’t think he knows ours?”

“I don’t know, Kitty. But I’d stay on your toes.”

“Absolutely.” He nodded. “You should go see Master Fu about that cut. Then maybe come up with an excuse when people ask what happened.”

“I’m really clumsy in my normal life, I’ll just say I tripped and hit a corner of my table.”

“Perfect! Next time I see you, I’ll be sure to give you a little kiss to make it better.”

“You’d infect it.”

“Rude.”

“Maybe some day, kitten.” She said, looking at the ground. The police cars were long gone, and the other car was powered off. In the dark of the night, the blood stain from the young man was impossible to see. Still, in her mind, she could see it. She could hear the sound of his breath coming up short, since it didn’t even get the chance to scream.

“My lady?”

“I saw a man die today. I could have saved him, but he darted out from behind me.”

“He would have died regardless,” Chat reminded her gently. “You did your best, and that’s all that matters.”

She didn’t respond, just kept looking to the ground.

“You wanna talk about what was bothering you earlier?”

She shook her head. “That seems so…so minor now. My crush found out I liked him, I mean, I told him, but I was forced into it. There was a bunch of other shitty things, too. But that’s the main thing.”

“I’m so sorry, Bug.”

“It’s…it’s not a big deal anymore. We talked, and we’re good. So I just…” Tears started rolling down her bloody cheeks. “I’m scared.”

His arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer. “It’s going to be okay, Bug.”

“How can you be sure?”

“Cat intuition.”

“That’s not a thing.”

“Well, it is now.” He nuzzled his nose in her hair. “Look, the guy in the suit? He’s full of hot air. We’re both wearing masks, and no one knows who we are. People have been trying for years. He was just trying to psych you out.”

Ladybug swallowed thickly. “If that’s what you think…”

“I know so. You were right to be so diligent about our secret identities. This will blow over. Trust me.”

“I guess I have no choice.” She chuckled. “Now I got to go, my face hurts.”

He warmly brushed his hand over her arm. “I’ll catch you later Bug.”

—

Later that night, Marinette laid awake in bed. It was nearing 4 in the morning, and she just couldn’t sleep.

Who could, seeing what she had seen? Hearing what she heard?

The pain in her face was numbed by some ointment that Fu had applied, so that was one less thing to bother her.

She’d been in the superhero business a long time now. She’d seen plenty of awful things. Most of them were fixed with a ‘Miraculous Ladybug’.

But she couldn’t bring that young man back.

He didn’t deserve that. Even if he was a drug dealer, even if he was doing something he shouldn’t, he didn’t deserve that. And neither did his wife, who would probably have to give that life insurance money over for her own safety.

Life was so much easier when all she had to do worry about was her grades and her crush on Adrien. Even an akuma was nothing compared to hard crime.

Akumas could be fixed. Things could go back to normal. But this stuff was dirty and awful. She wondered if this is how it felt to be part of the police.

She wondered if Chat was wide awake too. Probably not, he hadn’t seen Charles get shot after all.

“Tikki,” Marinette spoke.

“Hmm?”

“What have other Ladybug’s done, in times like this…when they knew they could have saved someone, but didn’t?”

Tikki pondered the question. “Well, it was hard at first. But eventually, they just had to just used to it. Joan cried nights on end. Her time was the hardest I think.”

“I…I don’t want to ‘get used to it’.”

“You don’t have to be callus. Just…know that it’s something that comes with the job. Charles still would have died if you hadn’t intervened. But you tried, and that’s what matters, just like Chat said. You also got that man arrested, and justice will be served.”

“Hopefully.”

“Yes, hopefully.”

Silence reigned for a little longer. “Tikki, I’m scared.”

“Of Savauge?”

“Yeah…Paris is a big city with a lot of people and cameras…It would be pretty lucky if no one ever saw me.”

“Even if they did, it wouldn’t be likely that they’d identify you. I wouldn’t worry, Marinette.”

“…I can’t help it.”

Tikki floated down to lay against her skull and gently petted her hair. “I know. Humans are such anxious creatures.”

“I bet you’ve seen much worse in your life, huh?”

“I’ve seen horrible things. But what happened tonight was traumatic and I don’t expect you to just get over it. So I’ll be here to comfort you in the meantime.”

“Thanks Tikki.”

“Now try to get some sleep. You have school tomorrow.”

Marinette sighed. “I have school in a few hours…maybe I can get a nap in.”

i dare you | richie tozier

requested: "Could you do a reader x Richie imagine where they're good friends but always roast each other etc. but eventually one day when they're just doing whatever and talking Richie says "I dare you to kiss me" and then y/n actually does and then it's all fluffy but awkward ❤❤" - @my-special-fort

summary: richie and y/n are just bros being bros, until a certain dare turns them into something more.

characters: richie tozier, y/n, beverly marsh, bill denbrough, eddie kaspbrack, ben hanscom, mike hanlon, stanley uris

warnings: i think i used the word ass once? lmao but that's all

a/n: hope you like it!!

~

"See, we're nearly at the top!" Bev cried, pointing forward towards the very top of the hill.

Yeah, you'd only been walking for around an hour.

You see, the losers had decided to take a 'lovely', 'little' trip up the mountain.

It was not lovely.

It was not little.

It was downright annoying

"Hey. Hey. Hey, Y/N," Richie poked you in the side multiple times, trying to get your attention.

You turned to him in a fit of rage. "What, Richie?!"

"Your mum." He grinned at you, his glasses glinting in the sunlight.

You shoved him away, causing him to fall on his ass and the squad to erupt in laughter.

Eddie smirked. "Not gonna lie, you kinda deserved that, Trashmouth." Richie rolled his eyes and stood, dusting himself off.

God, look at him with his stupid face, and stupid glasses, and... adorable smile... no! Stupid smile!

You shook your head fiercely, slapping yourself for good measure, Stan looking at you like you had lost the plot all together. You sighed lowly and looked away, gazing out onto the vast green hills and trying to divert your gaze away from your idiot friend whom you had come to love very dearly.

It was unexpected, sure. You had never thought even in your wildest dreams, that you would fall for the Trashmouth who was even worse than you. He always seemed to have a comeback just waiting to be unleashed as soon as you opened your mouth.

But he just happened to have an effect on you. And it was a very annoying effect indeed.

Suddenly, Bill flopped onto the ground in front of you, jerking you out of your thoughts.

"Y/N, you seem really jumpy lately." Ben stated, tilting his head.

Mike frowned. "Yeah, anything wrong?" He enquired.

You smiled and shook your head. "Nah, just um, school that's all." You shrugged and began walking over to the edge of the mountain, peering over the edge into the abyss of trees and lakes.

Breathtaking.

What you didn't realise, however, was the curious eyes behind thick glass frames following your every move.

Breathtaking. That was what Richie's throughts currently consisted of.

He was desperately trying to think of something to grasp your attention, something funny or endearing. Yet, what came out of his mouth was neither of those things.

"Hey, Y/N/N, I dare you to eat that grass."

There was a collective sigh around the group, everyone not wanting their friends to start this once again.

You see, yourself and Richie were extremely competitive people, always competing to be the best. This included daring each other to do things at random times. Neither of you had ever backed down from a dare before, and that was your primary aim. To get The Richie Tozier to back down and give in.

You spun around and smirked at Richie, before leaning down and pulling a wad of grass from the moist earth. You then proceeded to shove the wad into your open mouth, the wet vegetation sliding down your throat, the bitterness making your face cringe in distaste.

"Ew."

Richie began to laugh as the rest of the losers groaned and cried in protest.

"Y/N, do you know how unsanitary that is?! There are so many germs on even one blade of it!" Eddie gagged, shuddering fiercely.

You giggled and ruffled his hair.

"Aww, worried about me Eds?"

He rolled his eyes and pushed your hand away. "Yeah, totally," he replied, sarcastically.

Richie gasped. "I feel betrayed! How dare you hit on my girl, Eddie Spaghetti! You're no longer my friend!"

Eddie sighed and glared at his friend. "I swear if you call me at one more time I will shove those glasses up your-"

"Beep beep Eddie." You giggled, finger gunning your friend,

A chorus of laughs sang from the group, including some from Eddie. Richie rolled his eyes, poking his tongue at you also.

You smirked at him and placed your hands on your hips. "My turn, Rich. I dare you to climb to the top of that tree."

"Challenge accepted."

It went back and forth like this all day, the dares getting more extreme each time.

Eventually, the losers were tired out and simply laying down on the large rocks that littered the mountain top, enjoying the company of the light wind that brushed the peak of the mountain.

Richie and yourself were laying together, side by side on the now dry grass, watching the puffy clouds float past. A simple moment, yet so very relaxing.

"Hey, Y/N/N?"

You looked through the corner of your eye, catching sight of the freckled face now facing you. Turning onto your side, you gazed at Richie, noticing the way his nose was slightly scrunched due to the light breeze, and how his pale skin was dyed pastel yellow in the sunlight. How his eyes glistened, and the red tint to his cheeks.

You were happy to lay with him here.

"Yeah?" You whispered back.

He smiled softly, closing his eyes for a second, causing his long black eyelashes to flutter in the air.

"I dare you to kiss me."

You felt a rush of heat to your cheeks, looking at him to see if he was actually being serious. A cheeky smile had implanted itself onto his face and his eyes held that adorable mischief, like a child who'd played a prank on his mother. However, you decided to go for it.

Before he'd even realised what was happening, Richie was feeling the delicate sensation of your lips on his. It was quick, hesitant even, and over in a few seconds. But oh, he loved it.

You pulled back and closed your eyes, not wanting to look him in the eyes. Nevertheless, when you opened your eyes you were met with his deeply staring into your own. The smile had not left his face.

The moment, though slightly awkward I'm not gonna lie, was perfect.

Until he opened his mouth.

"You are such a loser."

Coming Home| Reddie Short Fic

Summary: Summer is ending and The Losers have only one year left before going to college. But they don't really care and try to make the most of it.

or

Drunk Eddie and Richie trying to get home after a party.

Warnings: Underage drinking, some curses (duh), some kissing, but fluff mostly

Word Count: 2002

ENJOY!!  READ ON AO3

             The town was mostly silent. It was two in the morning, the stars were shining brightly, almost as brightly as lamps on the streets. There could be some voices heard from time to time, giggly teenagers walking across the streets and drunk adults wandering around, loud laughter erupting from their throats. The night wasn’t particularly cold, it was the middle of august and summer vacations after all, but some wind blew from time to time, making people hold onto their hats.

              There were two boys walking together through the middle of the street. They weren’t afraid of cars, it wasn’t common for vehicles to loiter around in the middle of the night. One of the boys was tall and lanky, his curly hair was unruly and wild, combed by the wind. His cheeks were pink and eyes unfocused, affected by alcohol that could be sensed from a few feet. He was wearing a bright smile while holding tightly onto the other boy’s hand. He was much smaller, a bit less bubbly and distracted but also slightly drunk. He was talking about something in a shushed tone, not wanting to wake anyone up.

              It wasn’t common for them to have a chance to stroll around the town holding hands and enjoying each other’s company without judgmental looks being thrown their way. He wanted to make the most of it, so he, not so smoothly, moved closer to his boyfriend and circled his waist with his arms.

-What’cha doin’ Eddie Spaghetti?- the taller boy murmured in a playful tone. He smiled even wider than before and put his hand behind Eddie’s head, making little circles with his thumb behind the other’s ear. His boyfriend purred like a cat and the boy could feel his heart clenching painfully. He though he could combust just from looking at this beautiful creature that was cuddling him in the middle of the street.

-Lovin’ ya, Rich- Eddie slurred. He was plenty drunk and Richie couldn’t help but laugh out loud. Eddie may have seemed like the responsible one but he was just the opposite. He just had more self-control and could act not drunk if wanted, the bastard. Richie envied him that ability, it could have saved him a gazillion times.

              Eddie glared at his boyfriend and huffed, but didn’t move. He was just too comfortable, even though their knees would bump from time to time while walking. He felt like he was embracing the most comfortable and warm pillow in the world, a big puppy maybe.  

              They had two weeks left to the beginning of their last year in high school and they were terrified. Neither could imagine what would happen after this year, what would university bring with it and if they would stay together. It wasn’t just about them but also about their best friends- Beverly, Mike, Stan, Bill and Ben. They would all be missed dearly by them. Nobody knew for sure where they wanted to study further but their ideas weren’t too close to one another.

              That’s why they had decided to make the most of it during these last days of summer. They had gotten together on Mike’s farm, made a bonfire and drank a lot of beer, vodka, even some wine Bill had found in his parent’s hiding place. It was fun, they danced and laughed and told each other stories- just like it was when they were younger.

              They got pissed and didn’t feel like moving from their spots on the freshly mowed lawn. But Eddie’s mom had been calling him the whole time so he finally decided to go home. He was angry with her but this was something for another day. Of course Richie, the best boyfriend in the world, insisted on walking Eddie home.

              And that’s how they had found themselves near Eddie’s house with breathes stinking of cheap alcohol and shushing each other’s laughs. Their eyes were shining with humor and love, lips pink and wet from kissing and palms sweaty. At some point Richie had given Eddie his jacket, not because it was cold but he just loved the sight of the smaller one in his baggy clothes. It brought a smile on his face- so Eddie complied without a fuss.

              They were walking in silence, their fingers loosely intertwined, eyes blinking lazily and cheeks red from the blowing wind. They were almost at Eddie’s when Richie suddenly stopped and pulled at his boyfriend’s arm. He was smiling almost wildly.

-Wait, I’ve always wanted to do it- he said and started rummaging through his pockets. Eddie was confused, he didn’t know what to do with himself so he just stomped from one foot on the other and tipped his head to the side. He was observing Richie with a hazed gaze until he finally found his phone and smiled even wider than before.- Just a second, baby- he murmured and pressed a swift kiss to Eddie’s forehead at what the boy smiled softly and nodded in response. He felt a strong urge to be close to Richie so, without a filter that could stop him from being clingy, he moved closer and enveloped Richie in a tight hug, pulling a soft “umpf” noise from him. The boy laughed but didn’t stop searching for something on his phone. It had a few cracks here and there because Richard Tozier was a really clumsy boy but if worked just fine, even though Eddie insisted on taking it to the repairing place.

-You could have a brand new glass for just few dollars Rich, it would look nicer and maybe you would treat it better, clumsy-ass- he said once when they were laying in Richie’s living room and watching something on tv.

-What for though? It would be like throwing money to trash, you know god damn well it would end up looking just the same- Richie replied with a stupid grin on his face, all of his teeth showing and Eddie only huffed in annoyance.

              It was one of the many things that were differencing them. Eddie was a tidy, responsible man with a clean wardrobe, phone that had two years but looked brand new and his nails always nicely done. He had a collection of ironed shirts and nice t-shirt hanging in his closed, all the books laying on their place where they were labeled and a small backpack that always had everything essential for a day out placed next to the door. He was organized and polished, had a whole skin care routine for night and day planned out and various creams laying around his bathroom that made his skin soft and pretty. He was a walking-talking perfection. A fierce one though. He could argue about something very unimportant for a few days (it had happened once when Richie said that his shirt was blue, but it fact it was navy- don’t blame him, he had a rough day and Richie could be a real pain in the ass).

              Then there was Richie- his room was a mess, clothes were hanging on his armchair, completely neglecting existence of a wardrobe, packs of opened cigarettes had their place under pillows and you could always find some empty cans of coke laying on the floor. Richie didn’t even own a comb so his hair was always unruly, wild and sometimes greasy when he didn’t feel like washing it. Don’t get me wrong, he wasn’t a gross person, he was just sometimes too lazy to even get up. He had an awful collection of stupid shirts with floral prints and even worse one of band t-shirts with holes here and there. He wan annoying and could win a gold medal in making Eddie lose his shit but he also knew the best how to calm him.

              They were different and often argued but at the same time they couldn’t imagine life without the other one. They were made to be, soulmates even.

-Finally- Richie said when he found what he was looking for and clicked one last time on the cracked screen. Music started playing from the speaker and Eddie looked up like he was hit with a lightning. It was his favorite song and he couldn’t help but grin when Richie took a step back from his embrace, crunched over a bit and extended his hand in an inviting gesture. Eddie giggled and put his palm on Richie’s.

              The song was playing faster and faster, coming to the chorus and they were dancing happily in the middle of the pavement. Richie put his other hand on Eddie’s back and dipped him a bit, careful not to trip them over. Eddie laughed loudly and let himself loose, dancing like a madman.

-Honey, I love you; that's all she wrote- Richie sang to Eddie’s ear making the other giggle because it tickled his neck but answered nevertheless.

- Oh, Ophelia, you've been on my mind, girl, like a drug.

              When the song ended they stayed close for a while. Richie reached for Eddie’s face and put a loose curl behind his ear before leaning in and pressing a sweet kiss to his boyfriend’s lips. He replied eagerly while standing on his tippy toes and threw his arms around Richie’s neck. They kissed for a while, tongues dancing just like they did before and small smiles interrupting.

-Richie….Rich- Eddie tried to speak but Richie wouldn’t let him, prepping butterfly kissed onto his face. The smaller boy scrunched his nose and put pressure on Richie’s chest to stop him.- I have to be home soon ‘Chee.

-Yeah, okay- Richie rested his forehead on the other one’s and breathed heavily for a moment. He gripped Eddie’s hips tightly and then let them go.- Let’s go- he murmured and took Eddie’s hand.

              They finally got to Kaspbrak’s house and alcohol swimming though their veins was almost gone by then. All the lights were out so Mrs. Kaspbrak was thankfully asleep. At the begging of summer holidays she would stay up until Eddie got home and then lecture him for being out for so long but then Eddie brought Richie with him and she witnessed some drunk kissing and she was so shocked she didn’t talk to him for a whole week. Eddie felt embarrassed and awful while Richie just laughed it off but the smaller one wouldn’t let him inside until his mother declared that she wouldn’t wait up for him anymore.

-Come inside?- Eddie asked when they were standing in front of the door. Richie, who was playing with his boyfriend’s hair, only nodded and moved to let Eddie open the door. They got inside, took off their shoes and proceeded to quietly make their way to Eddie’s bedroom.- Be quiet you fucking idiot- Eddie hissed when Richie stumbled a little and hit into one of the pictures hanging on wall. Richie only shrugged and send Eddie a kiss.

              They got inside the room and Eddie, as silently as he could, closed the door behind them. He them smiled at Richie and pressed a quick peck to his cheek.

-I love you- he said, only because he felt like it. Richie watched him as he started rummaging through his drawers to find some pajamas. A wave of affection washed through his whole body and when Eddie handed him a t-shirt he head previously stolen Richie stepped closer and pulled him into yet another bruising kiss. Eddie squealed in surprise but reciprocated the kiss right away. He tangled his hands into Richie’s hair what made him hum in pleasure.- ‘m tired- Eddie interrupted. Richie only sighed but nodded in understanding and let the boy go.

              They quickly got changed and got to bed facing each other. Eddie curled up into Richie’s chest and got a hold of his t-shirt to ground himself. Richie put his arm around the smaller boy and pulled him even closer, while burying his face inside Eddie’s hair.

-Goodnight Price Charming- said Richie and Eddie smiled tiredly.

-Goodnight Princess.

autumn leaves (reddie) chapter seven

Eddie hasn’t seen the trees change colors since he was a kid, so Richie deems that the two of them should take a road trip to Derry and see the trees change colors. Cue lots of bad car karaoke, too much coffee, and Eddie absolutely losing his mind over the gorgeous reds, oranges, and yellows of the fall leaves.

Or the one in which Eddie hates Richie, of course, until he falls in love with him.

Words: 1281

Warnings: lots of swearing, angst

Genre: tooth-rotting fluff with angst mixed in

chapter one | chapter two | chapter three | chapter four | chapter five | chapter six

The alluring scenery including the inviting hues of orange, yellow, brown, and red were scattered across the trees and laying on the street which was still damp from the earlier rain storm. As they drove past the iconic sign that read; Derry Welcomes You, Eddie felt the memories of being at the quarry, riding his bike, and building dams at the barrens flood back to him. He was absolutely taken with the beauty of the town, no matter how ugly it was beneath its skin. The radio was quiet, the atmosphere thick. Eddie looked over at Richie, who, while concentrated on the road, didn’t realize how stunning his surroundings were. As they continued to drive, Eddie spoke up.

“Uh… Do you wanna stop and watch the sunset?” he asked.

“No time, let’s get you to Bill’s house.” was Richie’s answer. Eddie nodded, at first disappointed, but he understood. He glanced out the window again and was immediately entranced by the trees, watching the leaves dance with the wind and land on the ground. No, he wanted to watch the sunset with Richie. Bill could wait.

“Let’s stop,” he began, “I have this feeling like the sunset will be especially pretty tonight.” Richie took a turn and they were met with an empty parking lot, devoid of people yet so full of memories. Eddie took a deep breath, feeling the autumn air enter his lungs. He closed his eyes and felt the sun on his face as it lowered deeper into the horizon. Richie turned the car off and was suddenly reminded of the first stop on their trip.

“Oh no, no useless stops, Richie!” Eddie sighed. He knew Richie would stop at nothing to bother him, even if it meant altering his travel plans. Richie turned to face Eddie for a brief moment before focusing on the road again.

“It’s not useless, Eds,” he explained, “It really is a lovely little place. Just this once, and we won’t make anymore extra stops.”

What a lie he had told.

Richie recalled every stop they had taken, every town they’d seen, and how he wanted the road trip to last forever. Then he came to a realization: It was all ending here. Even if Richie were to see Eddie again after all of this, it would never be the same. He learned much about his friend, but even more about himself. He loved Eddie, he truly did, but he wondered if they could ever be together. The problem wasn’t the physical distance between their homes, it was the distance you couldn’t see, the one which just kept tearing them apart at every chance it got. Every time Eddie told Richie he loved him (which had been more than once now), it didn’t feel real. It was more like Eddie was blinded by either infatuation or hatred, and Richie couldn’t figure out which. He looked over at the boy beside him and recalled the first time he had realized his own feelings.

He leaned closer, and closer, and closer until he himself could barely breathe. His face was merely centimeters away from Eddie’s. He closed his eyes and inched even closer, feeling their breaths combine. The way the moon lit up the room created the perfect scene for Richie, almost being able to feel the moonlight on their faces.

Richie smiled, remembering how Eddie woke up and their heads collided that night. Then again, Eddie had had a nightmare, so it wasn’t something to be smiling about. Perhaps none of this was. The melancholy emotions Richie had felt for the entire trip weren’t something to be smiling about, and yet here he was. He had been rejected over and over by the love of his life, only to have his heart broken and then repaired by the same person. It was as if Eddie was out to get him, like he wanted to mess with his feelings. Richie knew better than this, however, and decided that was incredibly wrong.

Eddie opened his eyes and met Richie’s gaze, grinning from ear to ear. Eddie knew something had been off about Richie for the entire road trip, but he had never been sure of what. To Eddie, nothing else was wrong. He loved Richie and Richie loved him, whether they were going to be together hadn’t mattered. Eddie knew it was hard for Richie to believe a word he said, but he decided that he never was good at expressing himself explicitly, all he ever did was complain about the things he disliked or didn’t understand. Other than that, he found it hard to focus on the bright side of things. Of course, it wasn’t entirely his fault, growing up in Derry (especially with a mother like his) had conditioned him to be a pessimist in the worst possible way. Despite all this, he found love and warmth with Richie. It was like everything that was missing from his life could be found within Richie.

Neither of the two said a word, yet they knew everything they needed to just by looking at each other. The silence was light and airy, leaving room for both of them to breathe, unlike other moments they had previously shared. Soon it turned dark, and the stars started to come out. Of course, this seemed familiar to Richie as well.

He held onto the collar of Richie’s denim jacket and closed his eyes, feeling all of the germs from Richie’s lips transferring to his own. He pulled away for a brief moment, but that moment ended by Richie running his fingers through Eddie’s hair and stealing another kiss. Eventually, Eddie relaxed and continued to pull at Richie’s jacket, almost ripping the collar off while Richie tangled his pale fingers through his hair and pulled it gently.

Richie reached over and started to play with Eddie’s hair, while the other boy’s face turned beet red, but he kept grinning nonetheless. The absence of sound continued, but now their foreheads were pressed against each other, Eddie looking at Richie’s chapped lips.

“I love you.” Eddie whispered.

“I know.”

As they pulled into Bill’s driveway, Eddie hummed a sweet tune while Richie stopped the car. He watched Eddie walk around to the back of the car and retrieve his belongings from the trunk, including a small red snowglobe. Richie didn’t want to leave the car, leaving Eddie without looking back was a lot less painful than getting his foot caught in the door. Instead, he rolled down the window while Eddie walked up to the front door.

“Eds!” he called, “Aren’t you gonna say goodbye?” Eddie dropped his suit cases and ran to the car window, smiling as he grabbed Richie’s face and planted the world’s biggest, most dramatic kiss on his ice cold lips. It lasted for a long while with both of them focusing on how their hearts felt so astonishingly heavy, yet untroubled. Neither of them cared even when Bill was on his driveway staring at them, or when he was asking for help with Eddie’s bags. In that moment, the only people who existed were Eddie and Richie.

Both of the boys were smiling too much to kiss anymore, and when they pulled apart Eddie kissed Richie’s nose.

“See you around, yeah?” asked Eddie. Richie merely nodded and Eddie went to help Bill with his own bags, while Richie pulled out of the driveway. Richie watched as Eddie opened the door, honking his horn at the two, who in turn jumped about ten feet in the air. Eddie turned around with a look on his face while Richie grinned slyly.

“See you around.” he yelled as he drove away.

a/n: so i think this is the end of autumn leaves ): ......i might do one more chapter, but prolly not unless ppl want it. i have an idea for it, but it’s not entirely necessary to the story so idk. tell me ur thoughts.

tag list: @belric @edskasqbrak

Chapter Seven

You never realize how big someone else if until you realize how small you are. As I was frozen in front of the crazy man with the long red hair, Marx pulled me into his chest. I smelled the stables on his shirt and felt his taut muscles underneath the fabric. I blushed.

             “She’s telling the truth, sir,” he answered, “Her friends and I know French, but she’s still learning English,” then turned to me and said in perfect French, “Vous êtes OK, Emilie?”

             My eyes widened and he smirked at me, but Marx turned back to the man with a stern expression, “Now would you step away and stop harassing her? We have something to get back to, good day.”

             Marx walked away from the man, dragging me along with him, and the spell the man had seemed to put on me broke, letting everyone else move. Sonya and Adrianne fell forward onto the sidewalk and I twisted back to wave at them. After I had alerted them to my departure, I turned back and clenched my teeth, trying to keep my blush at bay.

             “Thank you for helping me,” I squeezed my arms around my middle and looked down at my feet, trying to shrink out of existence. Marx smirked again, probably at my shyness.

             “It was nothing,” he hooked his fingers through his belt loops, “I could see that man scared you,” he turned to me, “what was he talking about?”

             I self-consciously touched the markings on my face, then the emerald at my neck. The triangles had just shown up that morning and I had called my meré to ask what they were. She said that, when an anima uses such a strong charm, a marking to show what species of anima they were showed through the spell. Since my family is of a cat species, I had whisker markings. Meré said that my brother, Pierre—who I hadn’t seen in years— has stripes on his arms and that she has to trim her nails hourly because they grow like claws.

             “It’s a personal thing; humans are drawn to the odd and not normal and that describes me to a tee,” I explained, “my family gets people like that all the time. I just can’t tell you why.”

             Marx’s smirk faded and a serious look came over his face. He looked down and preceded to kick rocks on the sidewalk with his work boots, then looked at her with his deep navy eyes, “I hope you can tell me someday.”

             My gaze shot back down to my face and I could feel my face growing hot, and Marx kept speaking, “I have a personal thing like that. If you don’t mind, I’d like to tell you.”

             I shot a look at him, my face still beet red and he took that as a yes, “My family isn’t homo-sapien in species. We are what are called homo-draconic—dragons.”

             My eyes widened at Marx as he kept going, “I’m a young dragon, so I haven’t reached my wing-point—that means the day I get my wings and can turn into my dragon form freely. My ma says it’ll happen soon, but it’s a random point in a dragon’s life. I can breathe fire and all, and I have a horde of gems, and I have these markings,” Marx took off his ball cap to show his mussed black-greenish-grey hair and gestured to the markings that I had noticed when I had cast the transanima spell, “They’re on my arms and I cover them up with small concealment charms, but that’s beside the point. I’m a dragon, and I told you that. Why did I tell you that?” he said the last part more to himself.

             I stopped and fully turned towards Marx, pain zipped through my cheeks and I touched the markings, “Marx, these things on my face, they’re…they’re hard to explain, and I can’t just spill my guts to you, someone I just started to get to know.”

             Marx made eye contact with me and raised his hand to touch one of my ‘whiskers’. He brought his finger back red with blood, then looked down at me from his tall height, “Are you okay?”

             I was stunned as I felt a drop of blood roll down my cheek and the smell of iron came up to my nose. I swayed on my feet a little, and Marx’s big hand—which spanned the width of my back—came to steady me. “Okay, let’s get you back to the school.”

             He steered me towards the stables, talking to me in a low rumble to keep me calm, “We’re going to take Butter home okay?”

             I was confused.  Why am I bleeding? Is a vision coming on?

             Flashes of another place startled me and I stumbled into Marx’s protective embrace. I saw a different time, a different country, but it was choppy. It was as if my mind was being driven past a fence and I was only peeking between the slats. My knees gave out and Marx caught me. I saw a flash of his worried face as he swept me up into his arms. I set my head against his chest as I saw a frozen and barren landscape, the red sunset blotting the white snow. Shivers racked my body and I glimpsed the door to the stable going by. A hand descended on my forehead, checking my temperature.

             “Stay with me, Emilie,” he whispered as he sat me down on a hay bale to get his horse. My head rolled to the side because I didn’t have the energy to keep it up. Marx led a chestnut and buckskin paint out of a stall that I knew as Butter. He knickered at me and I raised my hand up weakly to rub his snout. Marx caught my upper arm and hauled me upward onto Butter’s bare back. I felt like a marionette doll with its strings cut as Marx slipped onto the horse behind me and grabbed its reins. My limbs wouldn’t move and people shouted as we galloped out of town.

             Marx stopped for a second and his timbre explained something to someone, but instead of seeing a friend, I saw a pale face with dark eye sockets and a wide, sharply toothed smile. A whimper escaped my lips and Marx soothed me with his deep voice. The words were jumbled up nonsense, but they helped me dig myself out of the mess of pictures, sounds and smells. I folded deeper into his chest as a sight of a different horse with a different rider filled my mind.

The elegant lady on the back of a lean stallion had long, flowing hair, and the wind caught it up with leaves flowing through the eddies made by the strong gusts. The sun glinted off the long locks as the lady laughed out loud. She threw her hands up into the air and streams of light burst through her palms. It twined with the rays of sunlight and new vines growing around her burst open with color. Flowers of all kinds bloomed on each frond when she waved her hand their way.

She’s so strong, I thought, doing this without a wand, it’s phenomenal.

Suddenly, a shot rang out and the beautiful lady lurched forward, her white light turning black. The blooming flowers wilted and the streams of black in the air trailed over to a tall tree. A wand stirred up the blackness and it gathered into the tip. A black jewel glittered on the ornate hilt and the wand retracted back into the darkness.

A bump jolted me out of my vision and my head jolted upwards, making a slicing pain lace through my eyes. I felt Marx behind me shift and relax.

“Good, you went unconscious for a second there,” he said calmly, whipping Butter’s reins and urging him along. My vision was blurry and I tried to blink away the haze, but to no avail. I started to panic, taking short breaths. My sight was leaving, little by little, and it scared me.

The school came up as I started to bend over, wrapping my arms around my middle. Marx didn’t bother leading Butter to the stables around the corner, but instead slid off at the main doors and pulled me down onto his back. I seeped in his warmth. I wonder if he’s this warm because he’s a dragon.

Marx was a dragon, he was of magic folk, not a magician. It hit me late. I had overlooked that little detail. I was of magic folk. We were the same. Sure, he was a homo-draconi and I was a homo-animi, but neither of us were homo-sapiens and that was a certain kinship between us. He might not have known that, but it gave me great peace.

“Headmistress Christopher!” Marx voice rang out as he pushed into the Dinning hall. It echoed to the rafters and another flash of a vision sent tremors through my bones.

An evil laugh echoed into the hall of an unfamiliar castle. I couldn’t see who voiced it, but I felt a sense of foreboding in the air. A sole person stumbled through the large wooden doors, an orange aura floating around him. He whipped around at the sound of clattering, but it was just some broken down scaffolding. The man heaved a breath out, his aura becoming heavy with relief.

“I see you came,” the disembodied voice that produced the laugh rumbled, “thank you for your donation.”

             “Donation?” the man asked, his voice high with fear. Darkness edged in on the man and the aura around him started to seep out of him. The man backed away from the darkness, pressing against the door. His screams echoed through the high ceilings as the shadows converged.

             “What’s wrong?” the regal accent of my headmistress filtered through my fuzzy and dazed state. How had Marx gotten into her office with me on his back? It required a long trek up a hidden staircase and a few fake doors, and not only that, it felt like only seconds ago that we had entered the school.

             “She just started bleeding from her tattoos and I think she’s having visions, but I can’t see them even though I’m touching her, and a second ago she started to scream,” he explained, puffing a little.

             “Headmistress,” I whimpered, “I need to…tell,” I stopped to huff a little myself from the exertion it took to speak, “you what I…saw.”

             Headmistress Christopher looked into my eyes with worry, “Not now, dear. You have to recover,” she turned to Marx, “What happened that might’ve made this occur?”

             Marx seemed to think a little as they entered a private room, probably in the tower, “She was confronted by a human at the—” he stopped. Headmistress Christopher sighed.

             “I know you all go to the village, I have powerful magic that can see through membrane charms,” she spoke of the flyers that appeared one way to some people and another to others, “and I said ‘don’t do what your upperclassmen wouldn’t’. I started that little trend when I was your all’s age. Now, tell me what this human said to Emilie.”

               Everything was hot. Burning. Searing. My furry fingers tipped with long nails tried to dodge all the hot spots as I attempted to escape my cage. It was made of still-burning lava rock and was in the shape of a bird-cage.

             “What am I doing here?” I asked aloud, my voice scratchy and my sharp teeth catching on my lips. No one answered my question, but instead a man—the man I had seen earlier—with the lack of eyes and sharp teeth—came into my sight.  

             “You, Miss. Beaumont, are an enigma,” his voice was the one that had spoken to the man with the orange aura, “You’ve seen my dealings, past and maybe future.”

             I reeled back, my tail curling around me, as he reached in to ruffle my ears. “Sadly, I can’t meet you on the solid plane. And your protector! He is quite a strong dragon. Though, he will find out your secret soon. Maybe he can see you now, in this pitiful form.”

             As he backed away and disappeared into black mist I curled into a little ball, wishing myself out of that fiery pit.

               I heard a sweet tune as I woke. It was a trilling piano playing the moonlight sonata by Beethoven. I sat up, feeling soft sheets rub against my fur. Who was playing the piano?

             “Oh good,” a light voice sang and the music stopped. I turned to see a wind sprite float towards me, her white hair long and prehensile. White antlers curled gracefully above her head and her eyes were a watery purple. The sprite smiled at me, “You’re awake.”  

             I blinked a few times, touching my emerald, then snapped out of it.

             “Where am I?” I asked, scrambling out of bed, my ears flat against my head, “Where’s my wand? How long have I been unconscious? Where’s Marx? What happened?”

             The sprite lifted her pale hands to me; the skin was so thin, I could see her intricate web of blood vessels filled with lavender blood. Fronds of her hair fixed the bed as she approached me. I noticed little lines of bells hanging from her antlers. They tinkled a sweet little jingle that replaced the piano music.

             “You are in the private infirmary in the fifth tower,” the sprite tugged me back to the bed, “The headmistress thought it best. Your wand is right here on the bedside table, you’ve been unconscious for a day and a half, Marx is impatiently waiting in his Magic History and Culture class and it seems that a human cursed you on Saturday at the village, though we have no idea how.”

             I noticed my wand on the table and snatched it up, rolling it across my knuckles. I glanced at the wind sprite next to me. “Why didn’t you leave at the first chance? I know wind sprites are flighty.”

             The sprite sighed, “Yes, that is a majority of us. We hate being cooped up and trapped in places, much like you animas, but not all wind sprites are unreliable. I like it here at Serpentine Academy. Been working here for seven-hundred years.”

             “I’ve never seen a sprite around before,” I said, my wand stopping in my hand, “where do you work?”

             She gave a sad smile, “I’m the one who tends the gardens. I truly love the outdoors, but I haven’t had one thought of escape since I met my Judson.”

             I blinked a few times, “Judson Kirsten, as my AP Potions teacher, Judson Kirsten?”  

             The sprite lit up, “He’s the one,” she fanned out her hand, showing a beautiful diamond with turquoise set around it, “gave me this at our wedding. Oh, silly me! I forgot to tell you my name! I’m Sæt, nice to meet you.”

             I was still stunned that Mr. Kirsten had a beautiful sprite for a wife, but Sæt didn’t mind. She fussed over me for a little, asking how my head felt and if there were any visions coming on, but I was perfectly fine. I really just wanted to get back to my dorm room and think over the visions and dream I had.

             After my checkup turned out clean, Sæt set me free, but telling me not to put the concealment charm on until tomorrow. I waved goodbye and made my way down the long and winding staircase. The lunch bell rang as I came out of the tower door and into a mostly unused corridor. I waved my wand to see my map on the wall and the closest door to the Eiva house. It was a secret door in a study room.

             As I made my way down the passage a barrage of scents and sounds came at me, reminding me that I was in my normal anima form and that I couldn’t be seen for too long, lest anyone recognize my voice or eyes. My claws made little clicking noises on the marble floors as I fought to keep my balance. Tile, hardwood, and stone were really hard to not slip on for some animas as they normally lived in houses with rough wood flooring, dirt, or they lived in the wild. The emerald looped twice around my neck swung as I grabbed an ornate pillar to hold me up. I must’ve yelped a little, because someone called out.

             “Hello? Does someone need some help?” the person called out. He’s near!

             “No!” my voice wavered a little as I slipped again.

             “It really sounds as if you need some help!” the person was coming closer; I could hear the shoes clipping on the stone floor. The person came around the bend, but I couldn’t look up to see who it was as I wanted to keep from slipping.

             “Hey, whoa, what’s wrong?”