#Bring on those damn dirty apes

[ape-apocalypse]

Road To The Kingdom - Rise Of The Planet Of The Apes Film

I remember seeing the trailers for Rise of the Planet of the Apes, shaking my head at yet another remake of a long-ago franchise. In 2011, we were hearing rumors of a new Spider-Man coming to replace Tobey Maguire and now I was looking at Harry, son of the Green Goblin, becoming a scientist and creating a drug to make apes smarter. On the other hand, Andy Serkis was getting a main role, more screen time than Gollum in Lord of the Rings, where I adored him and was eager to see him again. I was going in with some hesitation but decided to just turn my brain off for a summer action movie. 

I was surprised with how much I enjoyed Rise. Many fans seem to put this as their least favorite of the reboot trilogy. I can understand why; it doesn't have nearly as much action as Dawn or War and runs at a slower pace. But what it did have was fantastic character building in Caesar, which is needed in this trilogy. I would not be as engaged with these movies if I didn't love Caesar. Seeing him start as a little baby with his human family living a carefree youth, and then grow into a mature ape questioning his place in the world really filled out his character. He could have easily just been a random lab chimp who got smarter but I think the slow-build really fleshes him out. You empathize with him when he protects James Franco's father to the point of biting a neighbor. The human world completely turns on him and Caesar is forced to realize his true nature as an ape. 

Andy Serkis is truly allowed to shine in this role. Gollum was fun and had the two different sides to play with but there is such a powerful subtlety to this performance. Though Caesar can sign, it's mostly not translated into subtitles; only in two conversations with Maurice does the audience get a translation. The majority of the film and Caesar's story is carried out entirely through his expressions, gestures, and body language. Look at the tall confident walk he has when directing Rocket to give cookies to the other apes. The heartbreak I felt as Caesar's expression falls when his human family says he can't go home. The wordless fury when Buck the gorilla sacrifices himself on the bridge to bring down the helicopter and save the escaping apes. Even when the story can get bogged down a bit in the constant science explanations, I immediately perk up when the focus switches back to Caesar and can soak in the incredible performance of Andy Serkis.

Rise is much less action filled than its sequel films because it has to cover a lot as set up for the apocalypse to come. That set up is good, but again the science is a lot and can be a bore. However I think the pay off works. The horror of a simple graphic of the Earth, where one line splits and becomes many more, spreading across the planet, was very effective for me. I've heard people who didn't like that the apocalypse that destroys the human race is done in the credits, that it feels more like an afterthought. But for me, I think it was a powerful hook. Halfway through watching the film for the first time, I'd forgotten that this was Rise of the PLANET of the Apes. So I was excited for Caesar and his apes to escape, just happy that they'd gotten their freedom. Then the sick pilot and the spreading sickness animation hit me like a ton of bricks like "Oh shit, I forgot the humans have to die for the ape world to happen!" This probably didn't happen for everyone, especially those familiar with the original movies, but I liked the ending, undercutting the triumph of the apes with the doom of humanity.

Other than Will and his father Charles, the rest of the human cast is mostly forgettable, servicing the story where needed. Tom Felton of Harry Potter fame is a bit fun in his over-the-top hatred of the apes. When he gets to say the iconic "get your stinking paws off me, you damn dirty ape", my movie theater laughed at how forced the line felt, which I'm sure was not the intention. The weirdness of the line was swallowed up by the excitement of Caesar speaking for the first time and leading the apes out of the shelter, but I still remember the laughter of the audience when rewatching this movie. 

Overall, I think it's a great start to the series. Not the most exciting of the films, definitely dragged down by a lot of science exposition and unremarkable human characters, but a good intro to the world, setting up the apocalypse and making you root for a bunch of apes over the humans. You probably could jump directly into Dawn and War if you wanted, just knowing that humanity was wiped out by an illness that made apes smarter and Caesar is the leader, but I think getting to know Caesar makes it worth a watch before the more exciting films.

(Note that this is the only movie in this trilogy that does not have a novelization, likely because it was the first film and they didn't know how well the trilogy would do. It's a shame because I would have loved to read the thoughts of Caesar finding his place among both humans and apes.)

Intro / Next

[yamcha-thelonewolf]

How would you feel if Toriyama made Yamcha a fighter again and was actually stronger this time? I'll always be thinking how when he smacked Beerus in the back he made a face. What if he wasn't taken just by surprise that he did it but by the power behind it?

Like what if Toriyama did Yamcha dirty and decided he's not strong unless he does not want to fight?

Good question. Yamcha is still a fighter, for me. He never really gave up, even though what DBS showed us seems to say otherwise. I can't accept the fact that he threw in the towel, that was never like him. Yamcha always shows to us, in his own way, that he still has a passion for martial arts. Get it? Martial arts. That thing that long ago in Dragon Ball was the leitmotif of the whole story.

However, I don't think Yamcha has really stopped believing in his potential. It is virtually impossible to do so after reaching such a power level that makes him literally one of the strongest human beings in the world. Plus if we consider the fact that, between him, Tien and Kuririn, Yamcha's features are the most "normal" (he's got a nose and only two eyes) we can also safely say that Yamcha is the strongest human being in the world.

Okay, this is a bit of nonsense that I sometimes like to bring up.... But think about it, it might as well be so if we have to be really precise.

«JUST LOOK HOW SERIOUS HUMAN MY FACE IS!»

So, I would just be happy if his warrior attitude, that was never really buried, was put on display again. Even a little sentence, a hint, a tiny scene where he is seen fighting or training with one of his friends... That would be enough for me.

Yeah, something like that... Dragon Buddies.

For example, I am so glad that he made his return in Moro Arc as a Z-Fighter; I would like to see the animated version of his moment. Unfortunately, I think this is not the beginning of his rebirth. I have always thought that Yamcha's only enemy is Yamcha himself, and partly so, but the truth is that the real villain of his story is Akira Toriyama himself. It pains me to admit it, but it is so. I can't understand why he is pandering so much to the idiocy of the DB fandom making fun of Yamcha.

Yamcha laughing at memes about Yamcha knowing that he could destroy everyone with one finger.

The hell, even in Majin Buu Arc he was amazing. All right, I know, they're fillers, but you want me to be honest? The fillers took better care of him than the canon episodes and the manga. I mean, at the beginning he was presented to us as a 40-year-old man who had now given up martial arts for good, wearing a banana yellow suit, expensive and sadly unsuitable for battles. He just doesn't seem to want to hear about it. But then, after several episodes of him goofing off or being a fanboy in the stands, like everyone else Yamcha dies, and it is in the afterlife that his will to fight is reawakened after so long. As it was with King Kai before. For those who have followed him from the beginning of Dragon Ball, to be able to see Yamcha again happy, excited and strong, with his uniform on like the old days, is a joy to behold.

Relative joy.

Guys, I can't accept the fact that Yamcha has to be dead to feel even more alive, or even worse that his existence depends only on fillers. Yes, I know, it's still better than nothing, though...

Another good job was also done by the OVA Dragon Ball: The Return of Son Goku and Friends!, probably the last work that remembers that Yamcha also exists and especially treats him as a very valuable fighter. I'll talk about it.

This moment is still one of my favorite. It is one of the most badass things about Yamcha, plus it reminds me so much of a scene where Tarzan does the same...

Look! On one side we have the ape man (no, not a saiyan), on the other side the wolf man... Damn, I love it! Well, maybe I'm digressing, but it is curious to notice how the act of undressing is cathartic for both characters. They both strip off a garment that does not really belong to them and wildly bring out their true nature, their animal instincts, but most of all their desire to protect those they love. That's Yamcha. After all, who says Yamcha has to save the world to redeem himself as a character? He can also do so by protecting someone. That is something he can do very well, and I will prove it to you. Anyway, I sincerely hope that his role in the world of Dragon Ball will also be recognized in DBS. I also hope he can use again even his sword, but unfortunately he became a meme and, apart from the Moro Arc, we only saw him slaughtered and humiliated even by his own friends. This is the saddest thing that could have happened, also because in OG Dragon Ball it would NEVER have happened. There is no more demeaning thing than seeing Goku completely ignore one of his close friends, one of the first, and treat him as if he were worth less than zero. Seriously... WTF?! The Goku I love would never have done that.

Alright, that's the real Goku! Thank you!

I mean, maybe Goku wouldn't have invited him to the Tournament anyway, but at least he would have stopped in front of him to say a few comfortably words. As he once did.

Because, you know, that's what you do with friends and those who have been there for you in the good and in the worst of times. Let us remember that Yamcha took care of Goku together with Chichi when the virus struck him in the heart...

Well, I try hard to think that this is all a joke, though I doubt it. I strive to think that the whole attitude that the characters have had in DBS toward Yamcha is just the result of a studied plan to piss him off and spur him to undress again and howl like he used to. But... I know it's not.

Therefore, even though Moro Arc slightly brought our Z warrior back to the forefront and confirmed that Yamcha is still very strong, I still do not consider myself satisfied. What I would like more than anything else is just a confrontation between him and the protagonist, Goku, in which the saiyan helps him believe in himself again. And if it is not Goku, someone else is fine as long as Yamcha is reconsidered with dignity.

I don't think I'm asking for that much. Goku has helped so many people, dinosaurs, mice, monkeys, strangers he has met only once in his life, even bad guys... So why not help the first character who consciously believed in his abilities?

...Guess I have started a new topic. I will definitely talk about the relationship between Yamcha and Goku as soon as I can. Being the main character, a positive assessment of Yamcha by Goku could change the current idea of this character and make him much stronger as a result. I mean, Goku is the Mr. Satan of the real world. What he says is the truth, so it is only up to him to make sure that Yamcha can come back stronger than before.

Thanks for asking! 💕

[thenextcelestialchapter]

Just stupidly bringing this up for whatever reason idk

When I was 14, a lil over a year after recovering from paralysis, on my birthday... A friend gave me a surprise birthday present, a lil red Beanie Baby Bear and some leftover Halloween candy in a lil baggie with some 'Happy Birthday' confetti. A couple other kids tried giving me birthday presents before in elementary, but this was the first one I actually wanted to try to keep.

Lol well, big mistake... My parents found me enjoying them in my room later that night before bed and flipped out massively. Told me bringing my birthday present inside had brought a demon into their house. Threw away my present and threw me outside, locking me out for the night.

I was pissed so I decided to try and run away. Also a big mistake. I only had a nightgown on but no shoes, no glasses. Was literally about to go to bed, they expected me to sleep outside in the cold like a dog that night, I guess. Didn't care at the time. Walked to the complete opposite end of the city, to the limits, before I decided to go back...

The main reason I did wasn't that I was tired af w bleeding feet though...

It was bc at some point during the night, one of those stereotypical 'white vans' pulled up. Didn't see the guy driving it but out from the back popped this fucking idiot dressed up in a gorilla costume... He started pawing at me trying to drag me into the van. I knew instinctively that it wasn't gonna be a game for me if I got dragged in, that the mask might stay on, but the suit was coming off, and there was no way in hell I was gonna let a damn dirty ape-man of all things do that. Get a gun if you expect me to go along without a fight, junior. I screamed and punched and kicked and then ran like hell...

Later in the night when I was returning home... This other guy in a normal-looking car pulled up. He was 'nice' and asked me if I was okay and if I needed a ride home or anywhere else. I 'nicely' declined. Maybe he was truly nice or not, maybe I was still edgy from what just happened only a couple hours before that, but I got the same vibes from 'Nice Guy' as I did from 'Gorilla Guy'...

So yeah that's the story of how I spent one of my birthdays fighting for my life. The only bday present I guess I ever got from my folks was getting to take the day off from school to heal my feet...

And yeah I tried to report Gorilla Guy to the police a while later, but they grilled me for all kinds of specific information that I just didn't have, and bc I didn't have it they refused to do anything about it and just said "Well be glad an actual crime didn't really happen"...

[starbuckie]

𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐲 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐞𝐬

pairing: highschool!bucky barnes x reader

words: 1.0k words

warnings: senioritis, fluff, and bucky being a clingy little shit

summary: senioritis is a bitch, and that virus certainly extends to two teens in brooklyn.

a/n: i’m tired of high school and shit and finals are kicking my ass so i wrote this lil thing. (also look at this lil skinny noodle theater boy, i woulda dated the heck out of him) anyways, please enjoy <3

main masterlist || sebastian stan characters masterlist

Y/N’s eyes focused in and out on the pot of pasta her mother was cooking on the stove. There were many other things she should have been doing, pressing matters like the fifteen unfinished assignments she had to turn in by the next Monday, but the combination of a near-summer school day and the stress of not actually doing the assignments was getting to her.

“Honey, I’m home!”

Great.

The bane of her existence came in the form James Buchanan Barnes, God-like dick game and loved by all mothers. His fluffy chestnut hair was swept under a baseball cap, and he carried two bags of groceries, for her mother, into the kitchen where she sat.

It wasn’t as if she were bothered by her boyfriend, but with him around there was no way in hell she would get anything finished. Turning back to the half-assed, half-written page she had been working on for hours, she tried to ignore the presence of Bucky hugging her mother hello.

Once again, an absolute kiss ass.

“Hey, pumpkin,” Bucky dropped a kiss to her forehead as he started to put the groceries away. Fucking suck up. “How come you didn’t answer my text? I asked if I could come over.”

“I did answer your text, asshole.” Y/N turned over her phone to check the texts for evidential proof. “Yeah, see, I texted you no.”

Bucky shoved the phone away from where she held it out to him, placing an orange on the table. “And I chose to ignore that text because I wanted to see you.” He sang with a smile.

That little smirk he wore was enough for Y/N’s tough resolve to break and she stood to pounce up on him from behind with a hug. She nosed his neck gently and smelled his cologne, amber and oud filling her senses and making her mind all boggled with thoughts of him.

“Hey, if you two are gonna be gross, then go upstairs,” Ms. L/N smacked her shoulder with the dirty dish rag and she squealed away from the hit. “But if you two are gonna bang, then go to his because I’m not washing those damn sheets for you do that.”

Both of the teens blushed at her ribbing, and immediately grabbed their stuff to scramble upstairs. As they trudged up the stairs with their backpacks, Bucky noticed the way Y/N’s eyes would flutter shut for a moment and the way her steps faltered. It was no secret that her five AP exams were kicking her ass, and the studying was no better.

The way he saw it, there was no point in struggling onto the slippery grasps of sleep in replacement of studying. Highschool was three weeks from being done, and soon enough they’d be out of Brooklyn and on their way to California to hit the sun and study their asses off in college.

As soon as they entered her ivy-painted room Y/N slammed the stupid essay on her desk and slumped into her swivel chair. Bucky knew the drill well enough by that point, dropping his backpack by the foot of her bed and flopping onto the pristine white sheets with an obnoxiously loud groan. “God, this bed feels so good, pumpkin, I don’t know how you can stay out of it for so long.”

“Well, when you’re falling behind in school it’s a lot easier than you’d think.” Y/N quipped back distractedly. The words on the paper seemed to swirl and move right under her stare, and there was no way she could focus. She knew that eight more pages of blank papers sat right under the first, all waiting to be filled out with sentences about the effects of cardiorespiratory coherence on the spectrum of human emotions. 

Bucky groaned, hauling his legs onto the sheets and turning towards his girlfriend with a pout. “C’mon, babydoll, if you come over here, you can have sex with me. How’s that sound? You wanna have sex with me? I’ll do that thing you like, even make you shed a few tears...”

Though his offer sounded more than appealing, Y/N had to turn it down and shift herself in the chair to ease the throbbing of her core. “As much as I would like to cry on your dick, and trust me, I would very much like to cry on your dick, I unfortunately need to cry on my essay instead. I was getting work done all until you walked in with that cute lil’ smile of yours.”

Bucky blushed at the comment which made her grin. It was amusing how flushed he got after making such raunchy things to her. “Well, what do you want, babydoll. I can bring you a bowl of mac and cheese from your ma, or,” he scooped her up in his arms, reveling in her squeals of laughter, “I can snuggle ya to death. How’s that sound?”

Her voice was muffled against the fabric of his henley, but he could kinda not really understand the words she gurgled out. “I’m gonna take that as a yes.”

Y/N laughed in his hold, turning over to smush her face into his chest. “I’m just tired of this bullshit. All the assignments and late nights, and don’t get me wrong, I love my mother, but if I get one more comment about my study time management, I’m going to scream.” She sighed, clutching just a bit harder around his back. “I want it all to be over, I guess. Just you and me in California already, sitting in the sun and drinking green juices, or whatever shit they do over there.”

Bucky didn’t even have to say anything, Y/N knew he shared the same sentiment. College was fast approaching and scary, and the stress of the impending graduation did nothing but make it seem that much farther away. 

“God, you’re so warm, I wanna lay with you here forever. Studying can go fuck itself.”

“Then stay with me, pumpkin,” he chuckled, pulling her closer. “I ain’t going anywhere yet.”

Legend has it that there was no studying done for the rest of the night, and Y/N’s mom would find them passed out in each other’s arms before six o’clock.

[jokerfan99]

Curiousity (Almost) Killed The Cat (RWBY/RVB) by Necroceph

*RVB Opening Theme*

Flying above a barren desert.

Fuel's at 9%. It's not enough to keep this thing flying in space in another few hours. Luckily for Xenotarian Four, she spot this M-class planet on the way with man-made structures with functioning electricity says the scanners. She should reach a base in another few clicks. The residents there should provide her the fuel needed to reach Menagerie Prime. There have always been risks of xenotarian aid but who would've thought that flying a longsword in low fuel would be one of them. Through the windshields, she spots structures in the distance and begins to slow the ship down for landing. She attempts to contact the base's denizens to have their permission to land and refuel.

???: This is Xenotarian Four, calling to whoever's in charge of the base. I wish to have permission to dock my ship there for refueling. I would appreciate the help, over.

No reply, yet they did not give any warning to her. There is an empty landing pad where the ship can land on. The thrusters switched to vertical mode and carefully lands on top of the pad smoothly without problems. Time to fuel up this baby. She couldn't wait to get back home to her kids. They're probably waiting for her at her parent's doorstep ready to pounce at her with one big hug. Before she left, her father was against the idea of her taking this assignment because she's the mother of two litters and can't just leave them orphaned if anything bad ever happens to her. But who's better at delivering xenotarian aid beyond the border without being spotted by the Jiralhanae fighters? That's her. Unless she finds somebody with better skills to take her place. She exits the ship and awaits for the fueling crew, but no one seem to came. And that's not the only thing that surprises her, she looks around and doesn't see a single soul at sight. Don't tell me I landed in an abandoned facility, she thought. If this place is abandoned, then why are there still lights functioning here?

XF: Hello!

Beside the howling desert wind, no one called back. Guess she has no choice but to walk around and find somebody. This place appears to be a military base and human in design. She's not sure whether it belongs to the UNSC or Insurgents due to the lack of any known military insignia at sight. There is one she spots on a wall along the way but not one she's familiar with. It is a black trifoil logo. There's no title or anything written around it, could be just a random graffiti or maybe not.  As she examines it, a smell that's described to be rotten fish, stung her senses. Good God, what is that awful smell? It stinks of high heaven! It's coming from that nearby archway leading to an opened field. She crosses through the archway, with nose pinched, to investigate the source but what she found is something she'll regret seeing.

XF: Oh... my... God.

Her curious expression turned to shock for right in front of her are the bodies of soldiers lying on the dirt. Their armor is riddled with bullet holes with blood seeping out through them. Some have been burned to black charred husks and others still clinging onto their exposed rotten guts. Not a single movement can be seen from any of them. It looks like a huge battle took place, no, a massacre. They didn't seem to have a chance at fighting back. She has never seen soldiers like them before but they do have the same logo on their armors she has seen earlier. They could be part of some paramilitary group, but that's just a theory. She tuned in her cochlear implants, adjusting to the right frequency to hear any heartbeats from any of the soldiers just to be sure if there's any alive. Not a single pumping of blood can be heard from any of them. From the concentration of the pungency they emit, they must've been dead for over three or four days. Good thing if it'd not for her experience in the field, she wouldn't be able to hold out her lunch much longer. What happened to these poor souls or more importantly, what happened here?

TING TING TING

A repeating sound can be heard from nearby. It's coming from one of the buildings, with the blown up radio tower on the roof. She stealthily walks into the building and observe the contents inside. Inside contains a variety of computer terminals, most have been destroyed by gunfire, except for one with a blinking red button on the console. It's as if it's calling out to her to activate it. She approached the terminal and presses the blinking button. The machine activates followed by a Macintosh boot up before a voice synthesizer spoke out through the speakers.

???: Hello. I am the Freelancer Integrated Logistics and Security System, abbreviated F.I.L.S.S. You may call me, Gary. XF: Did you just talk? Gary: Of course I did. What were you expecting, a blue naked babe? XF: Not at all. What is this place? Gary: This is a top secret ONI training facility to train new Spartan soldiers through experimental augmentation and cybernetics. I am the computer system responsible for maintaining this facility to excellent capacity and assist all staff member to easily perform their duties, and daily military reports. I have no record of you in the data banks. Please identify yourself, for you have five seconds to live. XF: Pvt. Blake Belladonna from the White Paw Xenotarian Aid. I'm here because I stopped by to fuel up my ship. Gary: I see. Then why are you in the communications room? Blake: Well nobody came to help so I walked around to try find someone. Gary: And have you encountered the staff? Blake: No. The ones I found are lying dead outside. Gary: Dead? Explains? Blake: The ones lying outside this building. Don't you know about it? Gary: No. I have been offline for... what day is it today? Blake: Tuesday. Gary: Nine days ago. Please let me check the security cameras... oh. They really are dead. What a pity. But at least Jameson Locke's dead too, so that's good news. It would seem that I have missed out what had transpired here. Blake: That's like a week ago. Computer- Gary: Gary. Blake: Sorry... Gary. What happened here exactly? Gary: I do not know, I only remember the events before my deactivation. Blake: Well we just have to go with that first. Starting off, who attacked this base? Was it the Jiralhanae, Insurgents? Gary: No. And if it was those damn dirty apes, I would've detected their ships' signature in orbit before they attack. From what I examined from outside, it is likely that the soldiers killed one another. Blake: They killed each other?! Why? Gary: Did you see any bodies from any opposing forces you mentioned? Blake: Now that you mention that, no. They're all wearing the same uniform and color. Gary: That is correct. No doubt it's connected to the strange events that happened before my deactivation. Blake: Strange events? Gary: Yes. This can be easily explained in the form of a knock knock joke. Knock knock. Blake: Who's there? Gary: You are a dirty dirty Shisno. Ha Ha Ha. Blake: Please I'm not here for jokes, this is serious. What's a Shisno? Gary: Don't ask. It all happened with a blackout three days prior to my deactivation. Every electronic equipment was shut down when one of the base's generators overheated beyond recommended levels. The engineers have no idea what caused it to heat up like that but have concluded there was a computer glitch within the system, so there was nothing to worry about. However, strange things begin to happen the day after. There have been numbers of violent cases reported throughout the facility. A private tried to strangle his drill sergeant with the UNSC flag and an hour after that, the same drill sergeant stabbed the mess hall's chef through the eye with a plastic fork. Blake: Please no jokes. Gary: I'm not. See it for yourself.

Gary opens up a window in the terminal. The video shows the footage of a soldier, probably the drill sergeant Gary mentioned, standing on a table, trying to scare away the other soldiers with... a plastic fork?! And EW, is that an eyeball at the end?!

???: Sir, please put the fork down. We don't want to hurt you. ???: BACK YOU WORTHLESS UNGGOYS! Come any closer and I will use this fork to eat your intestines like spaghetti, with a pinch zucchini and mozarella! HAHAHAHAHAHA!!! ???: NOW!

The soldiers quickly grabbed him. He tried to fight back but the plastic fork broke in the process.

???: GAAAAH! GET OFF ME YOU FOOLS! I WILL DESTROY YOU ALL!!!

End of video.

Blake: Okaaaaay? Gary: There's more if you like. Blake: No thank you. Continue. Gary:  In the third day, the staff have been ordered to remove the radios from their helmets and destroy, deactivate or dismantle every military asset within the facility. Landlines, cellphones, vehicles, radio towers and finally me. That is all I remember. Blake: Thank you for telling me this. Sigh, guess I got more work to do after all. First I'll need to get back to the longsword and report Command about this. Gary: Uh oh. Blake: Something wrong? Gary: You might want to have your gun ready. Blake: I didn't bring a...

Suddenly, her implants detected heavy breathing six meters behind her. She turns around and sees a soldier, magnum in hand, looking at her through his broken visor with raging eyes. A survivor! Except it doesn't look like he wants any help. From the way his eyes are looking at her with hate, something bad's about to happen in this room.

Blake: Are you okay? ???: Who are you?... Are you from Recovery... or maybe a Freelancer agent? Blake: (whispers) Gary, what is he talking about? Gary: He's talking about a rescue team. Blake: Well he's got one. Hello, sir. I'm from the White Paw Xenotarian Aid. I've come here to help if you can just put that gun down.

Blake slowly approaches the unstable man and attempts to take the gun from his hand.

???: STAY BACK!!!

But was too late once the soldier aims it at Blake.

???: DON'T YOU LIE TO ME! OH NONONONONONONONO, NOT THIS TIME YOU'RE NOT! I'M NOT GETTING BACKSTABBED AGAIN. YOU'RE JUST LIKE AAAAALLLLLL THE OTHERS! 'HELP ME WITH THIS, HELP ME WITH THAT' UNTIL THEY SHOOT YOU BEHIND THE HEAD! PARANOIC BASTARDS, THEY DESERVED IT!!! Unless... he's inside you... Blake: Inside me? What are you talking about?

BANG!

The soldier fires but the bullet misses her, passing through her ebony hair.

???: YOU THINK I'M THAT STUPID, OMEGA?! I KNOW YOU'LL GET THE CHANCE OF SURPRISING ME WITH THAT INNOCENT ACT OF YOURS AND DON'T YOU DARE ABOUT TRYING TO OUTSMART ME, YOU GODLESS AI! Blake: Sir, wait! Put the gun down, I'm not here to- ??? DIE YOU SON OF A-

BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG

The soldier frantically fires at Blake again. She manages to jump behind a nearby pillar, giving her cover from the little pellets of death. He's not going to stop until he kills her! She'll have to wait until he runs out and try to knock him out. However, there's a high chance he'll anticipated her move and strike her. She'll need a distraction, something to keep him off his guard enough for her to strike.

Blake: Gary, do something! Gary: What? Blake Talk to him, I have a plan! Gary: Ahem. Hello. I am the Freelancer...

BANG BANG

Two 12.7×40mm armour piercing bullets pierce through the terminal, one making a large cracked hole on the screen and the other on the console.

Gary: Ow. ???: WORKING WITH, OMEGA EH GAMMA? TOO BAD, YOU'LL DIE WITH HIM TOO!!! Huh?

Now the opportunity's open. She gets out off cover and dashes toward the soldier. He quickly notices her but was too late to fire another shot when Blake swings her fist and punches him to the broken face plate, giving him a nasty bloody nose before falling unconscious to the ground. She quickly takes the magnum from his hand to prevent any further use from him. With the crazed soldier taken cared off, Blake turns to, Gary who has been badly shot. The terminal's screen is beginning to glitch out violently and the buttons on the console are popping up sparks like popcorns in a microwave.

Blake: Gary, are you okay? Gary: No-no-no-no. Hu-hu-hu-hu-hurry please remove the-the-the-the-the-the data chip from the sto-sto-sto-storage bank beneath the co-co-console.

Blake rushes to the bottom of the console. She spots a panel and removes it to find the data chip. It wasn't so hard for her to spot it as there's a yellow arrow with a writing which reads: 'Data crystal chip. DO NOT YANK IT!!!' pointing at a chip in a slot and yanks it, despite the warning. She was relieve to get him out before the console catches on fire. To check whether Gary is still intact, she inserts the chip into her armor to see if it's functioning well without problems. Good thing whoever designed the MJOLNIR added an AI slot. Not long after the insertion, a blue ghostly projection flickers in front of her, taking the form of a blue humanoid in standard UNSC uniform. This is something Blake has never seen before.

Blake: Okay this is new. Gary: System diagnostics at 100%. Ah... much better. Blake: You okay? Gary: I am working in perfect condition, thanks to you. I owed you your life twice. Blake: Hey, I'm a xenotarian aid member after all. AIs also qualifies as a life. Anyways.

She turns to the unconscious soldier.

???: Hi, I'm Utah... like the state of Utah... uuhhh. Gary: We should leave before that maniac wakes up.

Gary's got a good point. The man's too mentally unstable to be brought back with them.

Blake: Maniac, yes. But we can't just leave him here. Gary: He manage to survive this long alone, I think he'll be alright by himself. Blake: Gary, this man has gone through a lot over the last six days. He deserves to be in a medical care. We'll bring him along once we find someone who can help him. Gary: I don't like this.

Three minutes later

It's a good thing she found this cart to carry the unconscious wacko, no way she can carry him with her fragile frame. She even tied him up in wires for his own good too. On the way to the longsword, Blake discuss a thing or two with Gary about the base.

Blake: I wonder why ONI needed to develop more Spartans. I thought the UNSC already can handle itself without them ever since the Sangeili traded us Covenant weaponry. Gary: ONI is still paranoid for another interstellar war in the future, so they decided to make more Spartans in case flying spaghetti monsters start attacking the galaxy. Blake: And what does this have to do with that 'omega' this soldier said? Gary: I'm not sure. I have no record of any 'omega' in the files. Maybe he was speaking gibberish. Blake: Well it had something to do with the event you explained. Maybe a secret military weapon, ONI developed. From what I heard , ONI will go beyond ethical restraints to get what they want. Ship's just around that corner, we should... you have got to be joking.

It's no joke. The whole longsword's on FIRE! This is no doubt the work of their friend here.

Gary: Now what? Blake: I don't know. That ship's our only way out off here and without the radio, we can't call for help! Gary: No need to panic. There is another nearby base we can look for assistance, it might still be vacant. Blake: Well that's a relief! And how long will it take us to reach there? Gary: By foot, seven days. Blake: Seven days? Gary: Unless you like walking. ???: HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!

Uh oh, his conscious again. The soldier starts writhing in the trolley as he tries to wiggle himself out off these wires.

???: YOU'LL NEVER LEAVE HERE, OMEGA!!! NEVER! NEVEEEEEERR!!! HAHAHAHAHA!!! Gary: Will you just shut up, you dirty Shisno? Blake: Gary, are there still any functioning vehicles we can use? Gary: The staff have disabled all of them to prevent any use. Blake: Well they're still our only ticket out of here. I know a thing or two about repairing a Mongoose. So if I can fix one, we can finally get out of here. ???: YOU WILL NOT! Blake: Shh! Gary: Since you're confident about that, it's worth a try. There's one Mongoose over there.

Gary points his holographic finger to a nearby Mongoose. Blake looks into the engine. There's some disconnected parts, so it isn't a hard fix but the problem is that the handle bars have been removed. She can't drive this thing without steering. She'll need to find a new handlebar. However Gary has a plan.

Gary: Hold on for a sec. Blake: What?

Gary went silent all the sudden. Suddenly, the engines of the Mongoose sprang to life on it's own, almost made Blake jumped from where she stood.

Gary: 76% of the Mongoose is in working condition and fuel is now 79.3% capacity. Blake: Oh my God, how did you do that? Gary: I am also programmed to take control of vehicles in case of emergencies. Blake: Heh, guess I won't have to drive after all. Not bad for an Artificial Intelligence. Gary: Thank you. Alright I have scanned what you need to fix, first get a toolbox... ???: NOOOOOO!!! YOU CANNOT LEAVE! Gary: And second, shut him up.

Blake presses the helmet's mute button finally shutting him up.

Gary: Ahh... finally. Blake: So this base you mentioned, what's it called? Gary: Blood Gulch.

Deviantart: https://www.deviantart.com/necroceph

[dbzebra]

Surpassing The Strongest CH 2

A/N: Sorry this took so long, I hit a wall for a long time but finally got past it! Just a reminder, this is kind of an End of Z retelling but will have obvious changes going forward. Also i apologize in advance for the linebreaks, tumblr ruined my formatting so i had to imprpovise lol Enjoy! 

Chapter 2: Goten’s Resolve

“Train hard, study well, eat well and sleep well. That is the Turtle Hermit way to learn!”

Those were the words Master Roshi had told Goku and Krillin during their first day of martial arts training all those years ago. That motto had stuck with Goku his entire life, and molded it into how he trained both himself and his sons throughout their lives, even to this day. 

It was break time from training. Father and son were lying in the grass with their hands behind their heads, watching the fluffy clouds roll by. Pan wasn’t due back for a few more minutes going by the speed of her approaching energy, so they took the time to relax for a bit. 

Neither really spoke for a while, just listening to the sounds of nature. Birds chirped happily, the wind softly rustling the leaves above their heads, and the quaint sound of the river flowing nearby. 

It was Son Goten who finally spoke up, breaking the silence, not breaking his gaze from the clouds. 

“So, what’s next on the agenda?” Goten knew his father likely had an intense training schedule planned, but he was ready. 

“Well, besides our regular sparring, our next step-- is to help you reach Super Saiyan 3.”

“Me? Reach level 3?” Goten quickly sat up, pointing to himself with a dumbfounded look. 

“Of course!” Goku replied, sitting up as well. “That’s been your goal from the start since you began training again, right? And after what you showed me earlier, I think all that’s left is for you to push for the top.”

“Easier said than done! Trust me, I’ve been trying, it ain’t working!” Goten said. 

Goku grinned and put both hands on Goten’s shoulders. “You did it before as Gotenks, and you were only a kid back then. I can feel it in your energy, Goten.  You just gotta break through that last barrier.” 

“How did it work for you? Like how did you reach level three?”

Goku looked up to the sky for a few moments, trying to recall just how he ascended beyond Super Saiyan 2 back in Other World. “Super Saiyan 3 was much different than the previous two forms. While levels one and two required intense rage--in most cases, level three was a different beast entirely. It took intense training and complete mastery of Super Saiyan 2.  At the time, I was wondering how I could go even further beyond or if it was even possible. So one day, I was training with this guy called Pikkon. I kept feeling this really tiny tugging feeling deep inside.” Goku pointed to his stomach, and mimicked a back-and-forth motion with his hands. “And over the years of focus and training, the more I fought the more I felt it. So I worked towards that. I kept pulling back every time I felt that pull. Harder and harder, until--” he made a fist and then opened it-- “Bam! I unleashed all my energy once. And that’s when it happened.”

“...I don’t get it.” Pulling? It all sounded like crap, if he was being honest. But to be fair, he probably wouldn’t be able to explain the feeling either. 

“Just try it out. I know you did this earlier. Remember how you went level three as Gotenks, and combine that with what I told you.” Goku stayed in his cross-legged position, while Goten jumped up to his feet.

The teen took a deep breath. “Alright. Here I go…!”

Goten bent his knees and  let out a mighty roar that reached the heavens. His muscles bulged and once again electricity swirled around the teen as he ascended to Super Saiyan 2, bringing his ki to its utmost limits. The earth itself seemingly began trembling in fear of the awesome display of raw power.

‘This next energy… has to come from deep inside! Push hard to find it!’

The words that Goku had said to him and Trunks that day long ago echoed in his mind. The same words from when they took a break from learning the Fusion technique to see a first-hand demonstration of the ultimate Super Saiyan transformation.

“I did it back then, so I can do it now!” Goten told himself. He gritted his teeth hard and when he closed his eyes, he could almost  see the visage of a Great Ape roaring. As he continued powering up, he felt a tiny, almost insignificant tug from within. That miniscule flicker deep in his stomach was like a just-barely-lit candle. “There!”

This was it.  He had found it! The tremors began increasing in ferocity as the ground cracked beneath him and small rocks rose up into the air.  The ‘flame’ from within grew in size and heat. Goku watched on, smiling  with pride.

But just as he had it, he lost it. Goten’s  golden hair reverted to its original black color and he dropped to his knees. The stones that floated around the teen fell back to the earth and everything was quiet again. Panting and out of breath, the disheartened teenager cursed under his breath and teen slammed the ground with his fist, causing it to shatter beneath him. “I… I can’t do it, Dad! I just can’t! I’ve been stuck doing the same thing for months, it’s not working! I’m just not strong enough to turn Super Saiyan 3!!”

For the last eight months, Goten tried and failed to ascend. He thought he wasn’t making any progress at all, but that was usually the case with self evaluation: you judge yourself much harder. To Goku, however, he  noticed as clear as day that  his son was making leaps and bounds of progress in strength. 

Goku went to console his son, gently putting a hand on each of  his shoulders. “Hey, don't be that way! It’s totally okay! You are good enough, Goten. Remember, you were the youngest Super Saiyan ever, and reached Super Saiyan 2 at only fifteen! You were right there! I promise you!! It took me six years to reach level three, and I was dead! You're doing great.” Goku said, and it seemed to encourage his son going by the faint grin that dared to appear on the teen’s face. ”Let’s switch gears. How ‘bout we try some image training instead?” 

“Image training? What the heck is that?” Goten looked completely lost. 

Goku put his hand on his chin to think how to explain it. It was one of those things where it was easy to understand, but putting into words was a bit more complicated. But after a moment, it came to him. “Basically, it’s kinda like meditating, but you project an image of yourself in your mind. Then, you link up with someone else using telepathy, and fight that way.”

“That doesn’t make any sense. How do you get stronger just by thinking about it?” Goten flatly said, causing Goku to chuckle in response. Much like himself at that age, Goten was never one to mince words. 

“Just trust me, Goten. Your brother and I did the same thing while we were training to fight Cell.” Goku said and crossed his arms, keeping the same grin. “And besides, if we do this image training, you might get to see my secret ultimate technique.”

Now Goten was interested. It never took much to convince him. “Really? What’s it look like?!”

“You won’t know unless you try it out!” Goku goaded his son further. In all honesty, the new technique he developed was a finishing move, meant for a new enemy in case one ever came. It normally took a lot out of him, but just showing Goten once wouldn’t hurt. 

Just as they were about to continue however, the two Saiyans sensed a familiar energy source rapidly approaching. Goku had sensed it from far off from a while ago, but he could see that his son was too preoccupied to notice until now. 

“Guess we’ll save the image training for later then!” Goku said and jumped back to his feet. 

Still seated in the grass and leaning backwards on his hands, Goten turned to the direction of the approaching person. It was far too large to be Pan’s. He knew who this was. The teen’s wide smile returned as another young man with short lavender hair wearing a sleeveless yellow vest and black pants dropped down on the grass in front of his oldest friend.

“Hey bro! What brings you by our neck of the woods?” Goten asked. Still a little sore from training, he held out his hand and Trunks pulled him up. 

Trunks smirked and poked Goten playfully in the chest. “I heard through the grapevine that you were gonna enter the Tournament next week. Tryin’ to sneak a win by without telling’ me?” He raised an eyebrow at his friend. Knowing Goten like he did, he figured there wasn’t any malicious intent. 

“Ah, Mar told you? Sorry about that.” Goten replied with a sigh. “I legitimately thought you already knew and planned on entering. I meant to tell you, really!” Between spending hours with Marron after school on their date yesterday, the excitement over his new gi the night before,  and then the morning training, he didn’t really get an opportunity. 

“It’s fine. I’m just glad to be out of my house. My dad hasn’t shut the hell up about it since! He was grilling me all morning! God, I had to practically throw Bulla at him just for a momentary distraction then I just bailed.” Trunks threw his hands up in frustration. His family got on his last damn nerve sometimes. 

“I hear that. This one over here,” Goten said, gesturing to his father with his thumb, “pulled me out of bed at the crack of dawn while I was in the middle of an awesome dream!”

“Oh quit complaining.” Goku scolded his son while Goten shrugged.

Trunks snickered. “An awesome dream, you say? What kinda dream was it?” 

Goten shot him a dirty look, but before he could think of a comeback, a little toddler dressed in a red gi flew in and landed in the middle of them. 

“I’m back Grandpa!!” Pan chirped, raising her little fists in the air. “I flew around the whoooole world again, just like you said!”

With that signature Son grin of his, Goku smiled down at her. “That’s amazing, Pan! Thats your fastest time yet!”

Pan’s dark eyes lit up at hearing that she was getting better. “Think I’ll be ready for the Toonament?” She asked, innocently tilting her head to the side. 

“Wait, Pan, you’re seriously going to enter the Tournament? There’s no Junior Division, don’t tell me she’s gonna fight with the rest of us!”  Trunks was baffled. Pan nodded up at him, her smile still as wide as could be. She didn’t seem to have a care in the world. 

Goku proudly pat his granddaughter on the head. “Don’t worry about her. She may not win, but she’ll do just fine!” 

“She might end up doing better than Goten.” Trunks added.

“Very funny.” Goten dusted some blades of grass off of his pants, and glanced over to Trunks again, who teasing smirk only seemed to get bigger. The younger Saiyan sighed, shaking his head with a smile. “Dad, can we take a little break?”

“Sure, don’t go too far though. We’re gonna pick up where we left off in a bit.” Goku replied and Goten nodded in affirmation. 

The two teenaged Saiyans walked over to the riverbank for a private chat. They kept their voices low, so a certain little toddler didn’t accidentally overhear certain stuff and then go repeating it, which would end badly for the both of them. 

Trunks stood peering over the rushing waters with his hands shoved into his vest pockets. It was mesmerizing.. His phone buzzed, but decided it wasn’t that important. Meanwhile Goten put his hands behind his head and leaned on the tree nearby, staring up at the branches above. The sun was shining high in the sky; its warm light breaking through the gaps between the trees.

When he was small, he used to play a game where he had to only stay in the shaded parts and couldn’t touch where the sun hit. He smiled at the memory for a moment as his thoughts drifted back to the upcoming main event. 

“So, you gonna enter?” 

Trunks blew air out his nostrils and smirked. “You bet your ass I am.  I’m not just gonna let you just walk in and sweep the competition against a bunch of nobodies! I’ll win,  just like I did last time. If only Mr. Satan was entering, I’d smack him into next month.” 

“Yeah right!” Goten fired back and puffed out his chest a bit, the confidence in his voice building.. “The outcome won’t be the same as last time, I can promise you that. I’ve been training constantly!” 

“HA!” Trunks scoffed. “Good one, man. If by ‘training’, you mean you’ve just been getting handsy with Marron all the freakin’ time, then sure! Meanwhile, I’ve actually been training!” Trunks said, with his usual smug smile. He felt a little bad, but busting on Goten was too easy. 

Goten’s whole face flushed a scarlet color at how nonchalantly Trunks could just bring up what he did with his girlfriend in private. Any confidence he had in that moment fizzled right out.  “H-Hey!! Mar and I aren’t getting handsy!!” Goten blurted out louder than he intended and then swiftly covered his mouth with his hands. “That much…” He said again, practically as a whisper that time.

Trunks tried not to burst out laughing as Goten looked towards Pan, hoping she didn’t overhear him and then go repeating it to Videl or Gohan. Or worse, his mother. Not that she would get mad, just that her teasing comments would only get worse!

“Cut the bullshit, Goten. We’ve been friends for like, seventeen years, and I know when you’re lying. Even after all these years, you still have no poker face. And Marron isn’t exactly the best at keeping something like that hidden either.”

Was he really that obvious?! Goten kicked himself for being such an open book. He huffed and kicked a nearby pebble into the river. 

“Look, no shame! I’m proud of you, man. Good for you. Marron’s a real catch!” Trunks said and proudly patted Goten on the back. The older Saiyan figured Goten would fire right back with a comeback of his own, likely about all those vulgar girls who kept throwing themselves at him at school. It wasn’t his fault he was so good looking! Trunks may have had the outer confidence and charisma of his mother, but like his father Vegeta, Trunks was a bit of a prude when it came down to it, for the lack of a better word. He was all talk, as Marron had pointed out. 

However Goten’s gaze didn’t leave the gentle flowing river, his eyebrows furrowed as if he were lost in thought. Trunks’ face fell. “Hey, my bad, man. I didn’t mean it that way. I really am happy for you.”

“Huh?” Goten blinked, coming out of his thoughts. He put a hand behind his head with an apologetic smile. “Oh, don’t worry, it’s fine. I should be the one apologizing. I’m just… really distracted.”

“You alright, bro?”

Goten didn’t respond immediately, but after a moment he slowly nodded. “I dunno why, but I’m really nervous about this Tournament. I’ve hit a wall trying to reach Super Saiyan 3, and it’s stressing me out. Nothing’s working, and I don’t know what to do. At this rate, I’m almost afraid I’ll end up fighting my dad in the first round and getting wiped out like some chump.”

Trunks knew how Goten felt. Living up to Vegeta’s expectations was tough at times. And frustrating. He also had no luck on reaching the third level. What came easy to them while fused together proved to be their ultimate challenge while separate. But he wasn’t giving up. And he wasn’t about to let Goten give up either.. “Tell me something, Goten. Why do you choose to fight?” He knew the answer fully well, but wanted to hear Goten say it.

“Why does that matter?”

“Just humor me.”

Goten sighed, and then his lips curled into a smile when he thought of a certain pretty blonde. “Marron.” Her name rolled off his tongue effortlessly. “Mar is the reason I started training again. She’s the reason I want to get stronger. She means the entire world to me.  I’d do anything to keep that smile of hers safe.”

After the fight against Majin Buu, Son Goten slowly grew out of fighting over the years. Sure, he trained for exercise or if he had nothing else to do, but it wasn’t much of a priority for him until he started dating Marron two years ago. Once they became a couple, it was like a lightbulb went off in the boy’s head. He knew what he had to do--what he wanted to do. And so he trained intensely, day after day.  To prevent anything like the Majin Buu incident from happening ever again. 

Feeling a second wind, and not wanting to be left behind, Trunks soon joined him as well. It wasn’t long before Goten had closed the gap between them, and together the boys broke through the first Super Saiyan barrier: finally reaching Super Saiyan 2. 

“My point is, look how far you’ve come since then. Marron may be a loudmouth, but she’s a true ride-or-die girl. If there’s anyone who doesn’t care where you place in the Tournament, it’s her.”

“Yeah, you’re right. She said something similar yesterday.”

“See?” Trunks smiled. “I’m far from being the best at pep talks, but I know for a fact that you’re much stronger than you think. I wouldn’t count yourself out just yet. Forcing Super Saiyan 3 won’t help things either. It’ll happen, man. For both of us. Basically, what I’m getting at is; it’s just a Tournament. We have our whole lives to surpass our dads. Let’s just make this one a fun reunion where there’s no genocidal egomaniacs for once.”

Goten truly started to feel better.  “Thanks, man. Really.” He said and the duo did their signature double fist bump. 

“Hey, I have an idea.” 

Goten turned, eyeing his friend suspiciously.. Whenever Trunks Briefs uttered the words ‘I have an idea’ it usually was always something insane, but he decided to hear him out. “Lay it on me.”

“Why don’t we enter as Gotenks? Nobody could stop us that way, not even your dad!” Trunks said excitedly, pumping his fists. “I don’t care about the prize money either, so when we win, I’d just give you my half.”

Goten was touched.  Trunks really was a true friend. Sure, they busted on each other constantly, to the point where outsiders may think they disliked each other, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. When it came down to it, they had each other’s back. 

“I appreciate it, really, but… I can’t. I want to go up against my dad with my own strength. If we won the Tournament that way, I’d feel like I cheated. Besides, the fusion only lasts for thirty minutes; less if we went full power. And then we’d have to wait a whole hour to be able to fuse again, so it’s not exactly practical.”

“Shit, you’re right. I forgot about that.” Trunks replied, scratching his head. His phone buzzed from his pocket again, but ignored it.  “Was worth a shot!”

After the third time his phone buzzed, Trunks picked up and immediately got an earful from his mother, ordering him to come home. He groaned and quickly  hung up. For a moment he considered tossing his stupid phone into the river. But used his better judgement and shoved it back into his pocket.

“Well that’s my cue. Gotta get going before I really get in trouble. My mom just realized I snuck out. Besides, I should let you get back to training.”

“Good luck. You’re gonna need it.”

Trunks chuckled. “Next time I’ll see you it’ll be Tournament day. I hope you’ll be ready, man. It’s gonna be me versus you in the final round.” Trunks said with a smirk. “Oh, and tell Marron I said hi.”

“You can count on that.” Goten replied. “And sure.”

A translucent white colored aura surrounded Trunks’ body. He waved and he took off to the west like a torpedo. And like that he was gone over the horizon.

Goku came up, with Pan trotting along behind him. “Feelin’ up for some lunch before we continue?”

“You bet!” 

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

Two days had passed since then. Only four days remained until the big day.

Feeling revitalized, Son Goten continued his training. The day quickly approached, and he wanted to be ready. Super Saiyan 3 or not.  The young half Saiyan blitzed back and forth, kicking  and punching ferociously into the air, appearing only as a blue to the untrained eye. He kept vanishing and reappearing across the whole sky, leaving a golden trail in his tracks. Lighting swirled around his body like a thunderstorm. Goten  fired blasts forward, and teleported in front of his own oncoming attacks and blocked at the last possible second. 

On both of his wrists and ankles, he wore large, red colored weighted training bands. Each one had  twenty-five tons of force. One hundred tons total.  And yet, Son Goten made it look easy.

Meanwhile, a small hot-pink colored air jet sped towards Mt. Paozu. On the side of the left wing had the number 404 written in big black font. The opposite side sported the signature Capsule Corporation logo. 

Bubbly pop music blared from the radio as the teenage girl with hair tied into twin tails piloting the car enthusiastically sang along. She had sunglasses resting on top of her head and wore a small pink crop top and blue short-shorts that showed off her fit, athletic figure. The blonde was giddy with excitement- she was planning to surprise Goten during his training today. She could already picture his adorably stupid face, and giggled to herself just thinking about it! 

From the sky Marron could see Goku and Gohan’s home sitting side by side, in front of Grandpa Gohan’s old nut. It made a picturesque sight for the blonde. She wondered if she’d be living out here with Goten in a house of their own someday. 

Just then, shockwaves shook the air car violently back and forth, but Marron was no chump when it came to this. She easily got the vehicle under control and continued on her path.  Sure, she knew how to fly now, and her fear of heights was long gone, but she still overall preferred traveling this way. The wind while flying was still a bit too much for her.  Unless of course, she got to ride on the Nimbus with a certain boy.

Out of the corner of her light blue eyes, Marron saw a flicker of gold. She could just barely see, but she knew. High in the air appearing like a golden star in the middle of the day. It was beautiful. The blonde smiled as she lowered in altitude as she approached a field next to a river located nearby from the two homes, touching down on the grass a few moments later. 

Marron hopped out of the vehicle and stretched, taking in the clean air of the country and the quietness of nature. She was a city girl at heart, but in some ways this came pretty close. The blonde pressed the button on the side of her jet and with a puff of smoke, the jet returned to its capsule. She moved the sunglasses to her face to cover from the sun. Once her eyes adjusted, Marron pulled out the ribbons from her hair and shook her head from side to side, freely allowing her blonde locks to cascade down to her shoulders. Much better, she felt, 

She squinted and looked up to see if she could see him, but the sub was too bright even with her sunglasses. 

 Just then, as if on cue, a golden haired boy dropped down on the grass in front of her. 

“Hey, babe!” Goten said. Seeing Marron was exactly what he needed right now. He sensed her up in the air and he waved, but he was too far away for her to see. A warm smile curled onto the boy’s lips. He wore a white muscle shirt with blue sweatpants, and his signature yellow boots.

“Hey yourself~” She couldn’t help but gawk. Her blue eyes glanced over his muscles, and for a moment she wondered if it was more than the summer heat that made her feel hot all of a sudden. Marron fanned herself with her hand, trying to ignore the obvious that ran through her mind. But the blonde shook off her dirty idea when he walked up to her. “I hope I’m not interrupting your training.”

“Nah, perfect timing actually. Was gonna do one more thing then take a break. It’s great to see you, Mar. You look great--like a movie star.” Still in the Super Saiyan 2 state, Goten went over to his girlfriend and kissed her forehead.  “I’d hug you right now, but I’m all gross and sweaty from training.” 

Marron giggled, and ran her freshly manicured fingers through her hair. “There’d be plenty of time for that later~!” She winked at him and he grinned.  But when she noticed he was alone, she was a little confused. Not too long ago, she sensed another ki with Goten, who she assumed was his dad. “Oh! Where’s Goku? I thought he’d be with you.”

“Dad? He’s out doing some solo training somewhere in the wilderness. We sparred earlier, but said we should train separately for a little bit. So he got me this heavy training gear. I’ve been out here pretty much all day. After today though, I’m all done training until the Tournament. My dad recommended that I should rest my muscles a bit beforehand so I don’t mess myself up for the fights. I’m free tomorrow, so let’s go somewhere!”

Marron clasped her hands together happily. “Oh, that sounds amazing!”

“Then it’s a date.”

But for now, he had to get back to work. He removed the weights from his wrists and ankles, placing them back in their box. With a click of the button on the side, the box returned to its capsule form. 

Sighing with relief, Goten stretched his arms and legs as Marron watched. He punched the air a few times, satisfied with the result. She loved watching him. Not just because she generally preferred watching fights over fighting herself, the blonde genuinely loved watching her Goten grow and get stronger. She was so happy for him. 

Next, he moved to doing ten thousand push-ups wearing a fifty ton turtle shell on his back, courtesy of Master Roshi. It was a bit of a struggle getting it on, but he managed. Marron sat on top of the shell, her long legs dangling off to the side. She almost wanted to mess with him, but didn’t want her Goten to get distracted when he looked so serious.. So instead she just gave him support. It was getting warmer out, but the mountain breeze made the humidity doable. She didn’t care if her hair got frizzy. 

��Ok, here goes!!”

Fifty tons on your back was heavier than he thought. Harder than the previous exercise, if he was being honest. But transforming into Super Saiyan 2 made it much more doable. In his training, Goten had discovered a form, not quite Super Saiyan 3, but something beyond Super Saiyan 2. However that form was for another day. He wanted to perfect the second level as much as possible.

He started off strong, but about halfway through he really started to feel the strain. But this was normal for him. Unfortunately,  it didn’t get any easier from then on. Normally, it was child’s play. But coupled with wearing a heavy turtle shell on his back, it was no easy task. Still, Goten thought it was fun. 

He counted off the numbers, quickly approaching his goal of ten-thousand. 

“Hey~~” Marron hummed, cutely twirling a strand of hair in between her thumb and index finger. “You’re doing an awesome job! When you finish, I’ll give you a present~”

Goten grinned. “What kind?”

“You’ll just have to see~” She said, giggling. 

“Easy for you to say, you’re just sitting up there looking all hot in that little outfit!” Goten joked as he continued his workout. Marron gasped slightly and touched her blushing cheeks at the compliment. He was too sweet. Always knew how to make her blush. 

The minutes rolled by. Marron happily timed him. And soon he was in the final stretch. 

“9,998…” He grunted, his arms felt like jelly. “9,999…. 10,000!! Aaaand, done!” Goten cried out and practically collapsed onto the grass, drenched in sweat. In between his heavy breaths, he laughed slightly. He could feel he was progressing. A little more each day. He recalled what Trunks and his father told him, which only fueled his refound drive further. 

“You beat your record! Congrats, sweetheart!” Goten winced, almost losing his balance, and it weren’t for Marron helping him up, he very well might have. With a grunt, Goten dropped the ten ton turtle shell, cracking the ground around it upon impact. She happily pecked him on the cheek for a job well done.

He dropped back to base form--his hair and eyes now their original black color. “I’m exhausted…” He grabbed a fruit from a nearby tree and ate it whole. And then loudly burped. Goten sheepishly smiled. “That hit the spot…”

Marron giggled, walking up to him with her hands behind her back. “Well, I’m a woman of my word. Time for your surprise. Okay~ Close your eyes.”

“Why should I? You might play a trick on me.” 

Marron pouted. “Rude. I’d never do that!” Her voice came out squeakier than she intended but it just made him smile bigger. He thought her voice was adorable.

“There. They’re closed.” Goten said, still grinning. He liked to playfully push her buttons; her cute pouting face made it  worth it. “Now can I have a hint?” He sniffed the air, trying to guess. “Is it a snack?”

“No peeking. Or else.” Marron said in a demanding voice, but it still  just came off as cute. 

Marron leaned up, and cupped Goten’s cheeks in her hands. Before he could respond, the blonde gently kissed him on the lips. It was only for a moment, but they were both smiling when she pulled back.

“Pretty great surprise.”

“You’re welcome.” She purred and they kissed again, deeper this time.

After breaking apart that time, she held his hand in hers as they walked along the riverbank, which led to a large lake with multiple branching paths. The same lake where he taught her how to fly. Marron smiled at the memory.

“I’m dying out here!” He took a whiff of his black muscle shirt and grimaced. “Ew. And I smell like crap too. I'm gonna take a swim and cool off. Wanna join me?” 

“I would, but I don’t have my bathing suit with me.”

“So?”

“So I’m not getting down to my underwear!” Marron huffed. 

“It’s not like I haven’t seen you in your underwear before. Besides, nobody else is around. We’re all alone out here.”

“T-T-This is different! Idiot Goten!” Marron’s entire face turned a bright crimson-red from ear to ear at the implication. The blonde definitely didn’t mind if one thing led to another and passion got the best of them right there on the grass, but… but what if they got caught??! She’d probably die of embarrassment if that happened.

Goten only kept his smile; he could tell her imagination was running wild again. He threw off his clothes and laid them on the grass nearby. threw them in a pile nearby. He’d wash them later. Now down to just his boxers, he jumped high into the air and did a cannonball into the lake causing a big splash. He emerged a moment later, spitting water out of his mouth. He swam on his back, just relaxing. The cold temperature instantly made him feel refreshed. It was like he could feel his sore muscles being healed.

Marron dipped her feet into the water.. She closed her eyes and exhaled happily. Life didn’t get much better than this. She sighed blissfully and closed her eyes.  “Hey~ Where should we go tomorrow? The waterpark? Aquarium?” 

No response.

“Goten?” She opened them again to see that he was gone. Cracking a smile, Marron tried to listen for where he could be. “...Come on out, you dork.”

Something touched her foot and she yelped. 

“Goten!!” Marron said again, the panic in her voice growing and she pulled her feet out of the water.  She looked around, still nothing. She pouted. He was playing with her. Well she’ll show him. She had her own ways of playing with him. 

Just then, the teenaged Saiyan poked his head out from underwater and splashed the blonde right in the face. 

“Got ya!” He snickered.

She really didn’t have plans on going in the water. 

Until of course, he just declared war. 

“Oh, that’s it. It is so on.” 

“Bring it, Blondie.”  Goten deviously smiled back as he disappeared underwater, preparing for his next attack.

Marron smirked and dove right in after him.  

She’d made him pay for that. 

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

Four more days rolled by. 

This was it. 

The 28th ‘Strongest Under the Heavens’ World Martial Arts Tournament had finally arrived. 

Skilled fighters who wanted to test their abilities  against the best of the best. Devoted fans who wanted to see one of the world’s biggest events from across the planet. All flocked to Papaya Island. It was the most anticipated event on the planet. Even those who didn’t attend planned to have their eyes glued to the television and radio for this year’s competition. 

Krillin, 18, and Marron were the first of the group to arrive. The family of three stepped out of their red capsule jet and then returned it to their capsule. Roshi and Oolong were next. Marron happily greeted the old man with a hug, Master Roshi was practically her grandfather: always kind to her and gave her wise advice whenever she needed it. If Marron ever got into an argument with her parents, Roshi’s island was always her first stop. 

A blue aircar landed nearby, and out jumped Yamcha, wearing a yellow suit and his black hair tied back into a ponytail. Puar sat on his shoulder “Hey man! Good to see ya!” He greeted his old friend and then waved to 18 and Marron, his goddaughter. It felt like yesterday he was babysitting and telling her stories as a toddler , and now she was a beautiful young woman. Time really flies. 

“Yamcha! How are ya, man? You here to enter?” Krillin asked. 

Yamcha shook his head. “Me? No way. With all those Saiyans, and mostly likely Piccolo too, I’d just embarrass myself. I’m just gonna watch.”

“I’d think you’d do great, Uncle Yamcha!!” Marron exclaimed, coming to his defense. 

Yamcha smiled at her. “Never change, Marron.” The blonde giggled in reply. 

“By the way, have you seen Tien?” The former monk asked. 

Yamcha shook his head. “I mentioned the Tournament to him when I went to visit last month, but haven’t heard much since. Knowing Tien though, he’ll be here.”

18 looked around,  honestly unconcerned with what they were talking about. 

She could tell Marron was preoccupied too. The teen kept fixing  her hair in her pocket mirror, wanting it to be perfect. 

18 smiled. “Teenagers.” She fondly remembered those times when she was that age, just her and her twin brother against the whole world. “Are you here or not, 17? You better not have bailed.”

“Goku said he’d meet us at the main gate. No use idling around here.” 

“Let’s get movin’ then!”

The Son family arrived at the southwestern side of the island. The family of seven, consisting of Goku, Chi-Chi, Gohan, Goten, Videl and the Ox King all made their way towards the registration tables to meet up with their friends and sign up. 

Goten felt nostalgic as he walked with his hands behind his head, wearing his new gi. This was the place he finally met his dad for the first time. Changed his life for the better. 

Pan clung to her grandfather’s pant leg, in awe of her surroundings. Everything looked so much fun!. Gohan and Videl prepped the toddler for today's fights the previous night. They were admittedly a little worried, but knew Pan could handle herself. And there were so many of their friends and family around--Gohan himself included-- that in the slim possibility of something going wrong, they’d intervene in an instant. 

“This place is really buzzing! Far cry from when I entered way back when.” Chi-Chi said.

“It doesn’t even feel like a Tournament anymore.” Videl added. “It’s like a festival! Even more so than last time.”

Pan tugged on Goku’s pant leg. “Hey Grandpa! Grandpa! Let’s go play!” The toddler said and  ran off into the crowd.

“Be back later guys!” Goku called and ran off. 

“Don’t go too far, Dad! You’ll miss registration!!” Gohan called. Goku gave his older son a thumbs up and disappeared into the crowd after his young granddaughter. 

“Two peas in a pod, those two.” Chi-Chi sighed.

“They’ll be alright, Mom.” Gohan said. “Dad’s great with Pan, He won’t lose track of time.”

Pan and Goku went on a ‘carnival adventure', as Pan described it. Well, it felt like one to her at least. She got to try all types of good food, fed the birds, met a giant robot bunny, and even won first place at one of the games, winning her a giant teddy that was at least three times  her size!

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

Meanwhile, a small boat arrived at the docks on the southeastern port of the island. Out stepped a small boy, no older than ten. Frail, almost appearing malnourished. He had dark skin, and black hair styled into a spiky mohawk. The young boy’s clothing was dirty and torn up a bit from his life on his family’s farm. 

“T-Thank you for the ride, sir.” He reached into his pockets and pulled out a small sac. “Please, it’s not much, but please take this zeni for helping me.” He was supposed to use it to buy food, but the boy couldn’t just accept a free ride.

“No, please, put your money away, my boy.” The jolly old boat captain said with a laugh. “You came quite a long way to get here, I couldn’t take the last of your change like that. It’s the least I could do. After all, you’re fighting in the Tournament, correct? You’ll need food to keep yourself strong!”

The young boy’s eyes sparkled a bit, and he smiled for the first time all afternoon. It helped ease his pounding nerves somewhat. 

“Do you by any chance know which way I have to go? It’s my first time in a big city like this, and it’s rather intimidating.” He said, trailing off and looking around behind him at the bustling crowds and stalls that seemed endless. 

“Head straight that way.” The captain replied, pointing behind the boy. “You can’t miss it, it’s the huge building with the multicolored streamers coming out in every direction.”

“Thanks again! I’m in your debt.” The boy bowed his head, clasping his hands over his chest gratefully. 

“Wait, I never caught your name, son!”

“Uub. My name is Uub.” The boy now known as Uub replied meekly. He always felt his name was weird, 

“Well Uub,  good luck in the Tournament.”

Uub  bowed to the captain one last time, and was on his way. 

The captain waved as he watched the boy go, happy he could help. “What a nice lad. I hope he makes it to the top.” He got back into his boat and made a U-turn back to the mainland to pick up the next round of passengers. Hopefully they were as nice as Uub was. 

As Uub made his way through the city, he was shocked how big everything was. Skyscrapers that seemed to go on forever. He felt so tiny in comparison. Uub looked down to the ground, avoiding eye contact with most people. Just keep following the signs, he told himself.

Eventually, Uub reached the Tournament grounds. Bustling crowds lined multiple stalls. Food, games, merchandise, you name it. Uub was in awe. They were practically giving food away! His stomach grumbled just thinking about it. Figuring he should fight on a full stomach, young Uub got in line at the nearest burger stand. He never had one before, as his village was very poor. Uub’s village, a tropical settling to the south of Papaya Island, didn’t have the luxuries of fast food. He hoped to change that. 

While he was in line, a little girl with short black hair wearing a red gi ran by a few yards behind him, happily giggling. Not too long after, a certain man with a signature palm tree hairstyle ran after the girl. When the man passed Uub, he stopped for a moment to stare to really confirm it.

“So it’s really true. He’s here!”

“Grandpa, come on!!” The little girl’s voice could be heard from up ahead. But when Uub turned around, the little girl and whoever she was talking to were already gone. 

Uub paid for his burger with his last two hundred  zeni. He just  stared at it for a moment, his mouth watering. “My first burger… Mom, Dad, everyone, I hope you’re proud of me! I’ll try my best!” 

Uub devoured his burger and got on his way. As he walked, he saw monks directing people where to go. Up ahead he saw a man at a booth with ‘Registration’ written on the front in big bold letters. Uub smiled. He made it. He really made it. Uub timidly approached the table when he saw there wasn’t much of a line. 

“Hello!”

“Hi…” 

“Are you here to register for the Tournament, my boy?” he smiled warmly at the young boy. 

“Y-Yes. M-My name is Uub.” Uub averted his eyes. This was too nerve wracking.

The monk looked him up and down for a moment and then wrote something down on his clipboard. “Uub,” he repeated, “okay, you’re all registered. Please follow the path behind me to the courtyard. There you will draw a number.. The preliminary test will begin in about a half hour.”

“Thank you, sir.” Uub nodded and continued on his way. It was becoming real for him now. He gulped. This was it. No going back now.

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

Goku returned with Pan, lugging along her prize from earlier. He found the rest of his family idling around the foot court about an hour later. Still plenty of time to register. 

“Mama! Papa! Look! I won at the hammer game! I rang the bell and then it exploded!! The nice man gave me Mister Bear!” Pan cried happily, jumping up and down. Videl and Gohan looked at each other and smiled. 

“That’s amazing, Panny!” Videl said. “I’ll take your bear for you so he doesn’t get lost, okay?” 

Pan happily nodded her agreement and then ran back over to Goku. “Grandpa are we really at the Toonament?”

“Sure are, kiddo! You still wanna fight, right?”

“Mhmm!”

Goku’s ki sense picked up on someone familiar approaching. He turned around and saw the Briefs family: Vegeta, Bulma, Trunks, and little Bulla.

Bulla and Pan ran over and hugged each other. 

Trunks nodded to Goten. The lavender haired teen wore sweatpants and a black muscle shirt with ‘Capsule’ written on the front in big white letters.. For a moment the two teens stared each other down, electricity sparking between them. Their friendly rivalry was reaching its peak, both believing they’d face the other in the final round. 

Chi-Chi pinched Goten’s ear while Bulma clonked Trunks on the head.

“Be nice, Goten!”

“Yeah, don’t be a hotshot! We already have enough of those with your father around!”

Chi-Chi and Bulma playfully scolded their respective sons. Even when they were practically adults, Goten and Trunks were still easily defeated by their mothers, just like when they were small. 

“You’re entering too, Vegeta?” Goku asked his former rival, now close friend.

Vegeta smirked. “For once, Kakarot, I’m fighting just for the fun of it.”

“Plus, he’s been gettin a little tummy lately!” Bulma poked her husband’s chest causing him to blush and storm off with a scowl. Trunks sighed in exasperation while Goku and Bulma grinned.

Bulla trotted after Vegeta. “Daddy, why do you call Mister Goku a carrot?”

Vegeta knelt down and patted his daughter on the head. “I’ll explain it later, Princess.”

“I almost forgot!” Chi-Chi exclaimed. “Before anything happens, boys, are you gonna ban Super Saiyan this time around too?”

Everyone glanced to Goten and Trunks. The two most likely culprits to break the rule anyway. 

Goten put his hands up in defense. “Hey, don’t look at me! It was an accident last time!” 

“Yeah, besides, we should give those sheep out there a show! Something they’ll never forget.” Trunks added. 

“That’s that then. Anything goes.” Goku said and Vegeta smirked in affirmation. The boys high-fived each other, and with that, once the group finished their little pit stop they were on their way.

The two families went as one big group and together they reached their meetup spot and linked up with Krillin and the others. Even Piccolo and Dende showed up, but they were off to the side, not liking the attention and looks from the crowd.. Piccolo had decided to enter rather last minute, upon the request of little Pan. He couldn’t say no to her, no matter how hard he tried.

“There they are!” Krillin pointed at them, about ten yards away. Goku waved from afar.  

When Marron saw Goten, standing clad in his brand new orange and black gi, the blonde practically flung herself at the young half Saiyan. He happily caught her and spun her around, and they shared a quick smooch. 

“I’m so glad you came, Mar.” She looked gorgeous with that pretty red dress of hers. She was his cheerleader. His number one fan and reason for going on. With her in his corner, he felt like he was the strongest guy in the universe. 

“Of course, sweetheart! You’d think I’d ever miss my boyfriend becoming World Champion? She winked at him. She started fussing over his gi, adjusting it so he looked neat. He looked so handsome, she thought. “I’ll be cheering for you~”

“Can I have one more good luck kiss?” Goten said in a low tone, so nobody heard him but her. His  strong yet gentle arms wrapped around her waist. She smelled really good. 

“I’d be happy to.” Marron replied with a sultry grin.. She flipped her hair behind her back, draped her arms around Goten’s neck.

Just before their lips touched again though, Goten was yanked backward. Marron pouted at the culprit. 

“Come on, lover boy. You two can be gross and suck face all you want later, unless you want to watch the Tournament from the stands. As a spectator.” Trunks grumbled as he dragged Goten away over to the registration stands. 

Marron only giggled and blew her boyfriend a kiss. “Byyye! Good luck! I love you!”

Goten waved back with both hands as he got dragged away, mouthing ‘I love you too’ and Marron just about melted. 

The two teenaged Saiyans went to sign up while Marron went with Chi-Chi and her mother to find a seat. Krillin stayed around to chat with Goku and Yamcha, catching up and reminiscing about the previous times they were all here. 

From deep in the crowd, a blonde woman with a big red ribbon spotted that signature hairstyle. That was unmistakable, even with his back to her. After all these years she could spot him from a mile away. Luckily, she kept her firearms at home. Well, most of them. She had no plans on using them. Unless they needed a crowd clearer. Maybe. 

“I knew he’d be here.” She said to the taller man, her husband, beside her.

“Yes. It’s been too long.” The bald man said. He turned to the smaller man on his shoulder and smiled. “Figures we’d reunite here, right Chiaotzu?”

Chiaotzu nodded. “I’ll be fighting as well.”

And like that, the blonde ran off ahead in the direction of their old friends. She ran right up to Goku and playfully slapped him on the back. “Long time no see, boys!”

“Hey, what’s the-- L-Launch?!! Is that you?!” Goku’s irritation immediately turned to joy at the sight of his lifelong friend. All three of the former Turtle School fighters greeted Launch happily. 

“Wait, if you’re here, that must mean…” Krillin started to say, and then the duo in question appeared. Tien and Chiaotzu. 

It didn’t need to be said, but both Tien and Chiaotzu had gotten stronger. Much stronger. Goku couldn’t wait to see their new abilities. 

“My apologies for the surprise.” Tien said with his usual serious expression. Launch stuck her tongue out and  blew raspberries at him. Chiaotzu laughed at that. “It’s good to see you all again.”

Yamcha  patted Tien on the shoulder with a grin. “Come on, man, we’re your pals. No need to be so serious!”

“So how’s married life treatin’ ya?” Krillin smirked jokingly.

“Great! Right Tien?” Launch poked Tien in the chest. 

“Um, y-yes.” Tien blushed. The Turtle trio all exchanged similar grins. He still wasn’t the best at expressing his emotions in public, especially when teased, but they also knew him too well. 

“This one is a big worrywort. Especially now.” Launch patted her stomach. She was pregnant with her first child. Eight weeks. Admittedly it was a little trippy to find out, after her blue self was the first to learn the news, but her blonde self was equally as happy. Her life on the farm in the western mountains--a life without crime-- was much better than she had imagined. 

Each of the Turtle School trio and Master Roshi sported similar elated grins, as they hugged Launch and gave their congratulations to the future parents. Their little gang would soon have one more member.

A voice came over the sound system. “Last call for registration! I repeat, last call for registration. Please come to the registration desk! Registration will be closing in three minutes!”

“Well, that’s my cue!” Goku said and went to sign up along with Tien and Chiaotzu. The three fighters signed up at the very end, in their typical fashion. The three fighters waved and parted ways with Yamcha, Roshi, Krillin, and Launch, who went to join the others. 

“Just wait till everyone sees you! This’ll be a great surprise!” Yamcha exclaimed. Just like old times. 

The last remaining fighters signed up, and registration came to a close. 

In a private room of the main building, a middle aged man with blond hair adjusted his tie in the mirror. He wore an impeccable suit, ready for another year at the best job in the world. 

He peered out the window at the crowd of participants gathering in the fighters courtyard while thousands of  guests filed into their seats of the main stadium. The man cleared his throat, smiling. Announcing and commentating the World Martial Arts Tournament  was second nature to him now. 

Tournaments past were some of the most exhilarating moments of his life. 

And only one thought echoed through his mind.

“They’ll be here this time. I just know it.”

[nancythebisexualslutwheeler]

Reddie Tutor!AU

So what if we do a tutor!Eddie AU, where everything is #normal, it’s just shitty, normal HS. So Eddie is a junior and he’s on the track team and he’s little but his speed makes up for it.

He’s smart as hell, for real. In all AP classes and honors. I mean in math they only offer AP Calc as the highest option- which is what you need to pass twelfth grade. It’s not hard, even though it’s AP, the school just needed the extra funding. In Derry, everyone needed extra money.

So he’s smart and does track and that’s about all his mom allows him to do. She barely allows track, but the insurance money from his dad’s death is running out and words like scouts and scholarships made their mark. She never left the house of course, so it was nice for him to be able to have something to himself. It had taken a lot of convincing, but finally it was his. And then his principal who’d wanted him to apply to their student council and run for class president and more things that Eddie’s mother wouldn’t allow him to do, asks him to be a tutor. He will need to dedicate one afternoon after school and his Saturday mornings. He only has two friends, Bev and Ben, who are dating each other, so no one is too worried about him. Not all the time at least. (That’s mean. They’re good friends, he’s just bitter.)

He accepts the job without even asking who he’s tutoring. Mainly because tutoring means they’d have to have a chance of passing the class. Richie Tozier does not have a chance in hell at passing the class.

Cue mean girls style montage... let me tell you about Richie Tozier. He’s a dick. He’s cocky and rude and dirty and he’s 19 and this will be his second go at his senior year. So no, he has no chance of passing.

He can’t very well say no after he’s said yes so on Wednesday afternoon, he’s in the library, in the back corner, to avoid being seen caught dead with the loser, when Richie shows up.

Yadayada when Richie sees him he has a field day.

But eventually the two find an uneasy relationship.

So I’m here for when:

***

Richie gets a D on his first test because it’s not an F!!!! And he pats Eddie so hard on the shoulder he’s sure he’ll have a bruise.

***

One day Richie is staring at Eddie. His legs more precisely.

“What are you wearing?”

“Track shorts,” he holds a leg out. It’s obvious. They’re purple.

Richie rolls his eyes,

“No shit.”

“Why?”

“Practice after this.”

He nods...

“Um, what kind of-“

“Track.”

“Oh no shit.”

“You run?”

He snorts,

“I only run from cops.”

                                             ***

  “Hey I can’t meet on Saturday this week.”  

“Why?” Richie demands. He looks a bit frantic, their test is on Monday. But Eddie also knows it probably has to do with the way Richie put his hand on Eddie’s leg as he drove them home. Eddie had reassured him with a small smile, but he figured the older boy still needed validation.

“I’ve got a meet.”

Richie raises an eyebrow,

“Yeah,” Eddie itches the back of his head.

“Where?”

“Gravesville.”

“Oh.”

“I have one on Friday night too though. Here.”

And Richie makes some dumb excuse about being busy and yet on. Friday night he’s out there. Well, at the bottom of the bleachers right before the fence and he watches Eddie and smokes a cigarette.

And Eddie is so shook and ends up running over to him after like wtf? And Richie’s wearing a leather JACKET and they lean against the fence and chat and Richie lights a cigarette and Eddie can’t take his eyes off of his mouth and then Richie offers him some and Eddie’s like ... ahhh.. but then does and chokes and Richie’s like alright my innocent bon bon, none for you.

                                                          ***

Then Richie starts bringing them coffee on Saturday’s. He’s got a new job. He always makes Eddie’s coffee perfectly. Like he’s memorized it or something. A hazelnut vanilla latte with less oat milk (he’s lactose intolerant) than espresso and three sugars. Sue him, he likes his coffee sweet.

Richie is vegan. Eddie about falls over when he starts talking about the environment and passionately. The mistreatment of people of color comes up and the fact those words just came out of stoner Richie Tozier’s  mouth is making him rethink everything he knew about the world.

                                                           ***

Richie fucking lifts weights which wouldn’t be a problem if he arms weren’t so fucking buff.

                                                       ***

Okay the thing is Eddie knows he shouldn’t like Richie, but’s he’s just so damn attractive that it’s hard. His dark hair and beaming blue eyes and ridiculous glasses that happen to work for him. He has a goddamn hoop nose ring and he’s always biting at his chapped lips. He has a chest tattoo (Eddie has only seen what pokes out of the too tight, stretched out necks of his t shirts. He wears assorted band tees or white T-shirts that ride up when he stretches his arms over his head and shoves off the treasure trail that Eddie wants to lick.

So anyway the first time Richie takes off the flannel he’s wearing over a T-shirt, Eddie balks at the artfully decorated tree on his arm. It’s an elegant oak tree with autumn leaves adorning the branches. It’s... exquisite, and before Eddie can help himself, he’s reaching out to touch it. He stops himself before he does and when he looks up, Richie is smiling at him. He offers his arm and Eddie traces the tree,

“It's beautiful.”

“Well thanks Eddie spaghetti,” he says.

Eddie realizes he’s still touching his arm and quickly pulls away.

                                                      ***

It only takes a few times of mentioning his mom before Richie asks. Richie is trying to offer to drive him home after a study session runs late and it’s dark.

“You’re not walking home.”

“It’s fine, I promise.”

“You scared of my driving skills?” Richie swings his keys around his index finger.

“No, I mean yes, of course, but my mom’ll flip.”

“You say that a lot. What’s her deal?”

Eddie pales,

“Nothing. Just overprotective.”

They head to the door, Richie still insisting on a ride, and when they step out into the chilly fall air, Eddie wraps his windbreaker around himself tighter and then Richie offers again, knowingly.

“You have to drop me off around the corner.”

Richie looks at him curiously and then nods,

“Of course. Can’t have mom seeing you with big bad huh?”

“Yeah, you’re not meeting the parents material, huh?”

“That’s what they tell me,” he shrugs, “As long as they let me sneak into their bedroom.”

Eddie makes a face. Girl’s rooms.

***

One Saturday Richie doesn’t show up. He thought they were over this, Richie ditching. He hadn’t even texted. So Eddie is annoyed. No pissed. Because it’s 8am and Richie isn’t even there to give him a coffee. So he calls because he’s fuming.

Richie sounds like shit,

“Hello? Eddie? Wait. What day is it? Fuck. Eddie I am so sorry. I’m sick as fuck.”

Speaking of which, Eddie doesn’t remember seeing him in class on Thursday.

“You couldn’t call? Text?”

“Bro, I’ve been in bed for days. I’m about to die of dehydration, my parents are out of town and I can barely manage to get out of bed to pee so no, I couldn’t text.”

Eddie pauses. Hesitates. He does it to be nice. That’s all.

“What’s your address? I can bring you a few things.”

“That’s unnecessary.”

“I’m not, I’m not taking a no for an answer.”

Eddie buys too much but he can’t stop himself. About three kinds of cold and flu meds, Tylenol, cough syrup, OJ and sprite and saltines. A couple of magazines. He’s pathetic.

Richie answers the door looking like death and Eddie is Lowkey in love because he looks like a muffin. (A very sick muffin) but a muffin nevertheless.

                                                         ***

Richie returns the favor by inviting Eddie over for a movie and pizza night. He thinks about it because they’re not friends. But Richie seems sincere and he did take care of Richie. He’d changed his bed sheets and everything. They haven’t mentioned it.

So Richie’s house is nice and he has a thirteen year old sister who is way cooler than Eddie was at 13. Anyway Richie orders pizza and he orders Eddie a regular pizza but he wants to try Richie’s because it looks good. And he does and it’s good and Richie just grins and turns on some dumb Netflix movie.

They absolutely do not cuddle, but Eddie sits a touch closer than he needs to and Richie’s arm ends up draped behind him on the couch and it’s nice and goddammit, Eddie is gay for Richie Tozier.

                                                      ***

Richie never seems to tire of him, or make any move to stop their tutoring sessions even when he gets a B on their latest test.

                                                   ***

One day it’s raining and Richie is sitting across from him and parts of his white shirt are see through. And his chest is hairy and Eddie is in to it.

                                               ***

Richie’s birthday comes and goes and Eddie brings him a single German chocolate cupcake complete in a container and everything.

Richie doesn’t stop absolutely beaming. He eats the whole thing and fawns over Eddie.

“It was so good. Best thing I’ve ever put in my mouth,” he says with a wink.

“Richie,” he complains.

“Scouts honor,” he salutes, “the very best.”

“Gross!”

                                                       ***

So idk what happens but somehow they’re alone together, maybe in like a bedroom. Richie’s got his big hands open in his lap, palm up, and Eddie is firmly pressed against him and Eddie nudges Richie,

“You’re a lot cooler than I thought you’d be.”

“Aww, you too Eddie spaghetti.”

“Puh-lease fuck off.”

“Never.”

Eddie nudges him,

“Promise?”

Richie looks down at him then,

“Promise.”

Eddie stares at him and licks his lips.

Richie leans down slowly, giving Eddie plenty of time to move away. He doesn’t.

[diveronarpg]

Congratulations, BRIDGET! You’ve been accepted for the role of POMPEY. Admin Minnie: I had some trouble writing Piero in the beginning; in fact, I rewrote him a few times because I couldn’t find the right words to describe the core of him. But you, Bridget, nailed it exactly in ways that I had not even seen myself. You made him utter real — sometimes uncomfortably so, all of that feeling and pride, As I was reading your application, I immediately felt like he was already yours. I really tried to pick out my favorite line in your application, the detail that really drove it home for me — but the truth is, Bridget, you won me over so thoroughly that I love it all. I cannot wait to see you on our dash again, Bridget, and I’m so happy you’re back! Please read over the checklist and send in your blog within 24 hours.

WELCOME TO THE MOB.

OUT OF CHARACTER

Alias | Bridget

Age | Twenty-two

Preferred Pronouns | She/they

Activity Level | I’m either gonna be on every three minutes or three days apart, there is no in between, but I promise to keep my activity constant and in line with your standards and let it be known if I am having any struggles with meeting them.

Timezone | EST

How did you find the rp?  | Hazel

IN CHARACTER

Character | Pompey ; Piero Montrelle Ruiz

Piero ; italian: rock

Montrelle ; italian: mountain

Ruiz ; spanish: famous ruler

What drew you to this character? |

Listen, I made a meme when I was apping Hazel, Imma show y’all right now:

It’s a dumb meme and I’m sorry, I couldn’t help but share it.

I honestly play characters like Piero more than I play nicer, more morally-sound characters like Hazel, but I wanted to try something new, so ultimately I decided to pursue Hazel at the time. That said, as much as I love Hazel and would love to write her again, I kept thinking about Piero and his youth and ambition, and so now here we are, me obsessed and wanting to write him.

Okay, rambling ? Done. Let’s do this.

Something about Piero just screamed to me boy king, and that’s just my style. It was in the way he put himself above other children, his pride and his ego. He was born to be something and, in his youth, before he knew of his parents’ empire, before they told him who he was meant to be, he was searching for it. He couldn’t find in it eager kiddy games, he couldn’t find it in chit chat or childhood experiences. But there was something that rushed through him when he saw them stumble, he found satisfaction in figuring things out ages before them. It was in feeling better than them, feeling stronger and superior, and — simply, just being better. He had no time for laughter, for foolishness. What was the point of that, if not to waste time ? ( He was a mean boy, but his parents never pushed him not to be. If he caused another to bleed, it was their fault for not defending themselves. If his whispers of cruel words caused them to weep, they needed to strengthen their mental fortitude. No fault was to be found in Piero ).

I also want to pinpoint there’s something about Piero that also reads naivety to me. He considers himself wise and intelligent, and to some point I do agree ( books and tutors can teach, and they do ) but there are other notions that bring out his youth. It’s in his eavesdropping on his parents — yes, he was young when it happened, but still someone wiser would have understood that some secrets are such for a reason. Instead, he lusted for the unknown, something bigger than himself ( this — as well, is something I’d like to focus on, but I’ll come back to this later. ) and he found himself frenzied until he was finally privy to the family secrets. I see him as being inexperienced, someone who doesn’t have quite the worldliness as someone twice his age or even someone who had to struggle for basic needs during their childhood.

( Also, there is the fact his parents groomed him as being special. He never earned the title, instead it was bequeathed unto him from the very start. His parents claimed he walked younger than most, talked younger than most. He excelled in classes, he excelled in his physical ability. Again and again, his parents claimed him remarkable. I think, amongst the Veronesi, it might be time for him to realize that maybe he isn’t more than his name. This probably should go under plotting but I’m imagining him seeing others with skills he was never taught, maybe those his mother would have considered barbaric and uncouth. Piero wouldn’t see that, though. He would see force and deadly talent and he would see the areas in which he holds deficits. Also, just the ability and skill that comes with time and practice beyond natural talent. I keep reminding myself that, although a little bit weary with a lot of trauma, Piero is still nineteen. I used to think that was so old and so mature, but he’s barely more than a kid. Fun Science Fact: brains aren’t developed fully until their mid-20s !!! Some studies suggest early 30s !!!! Piero hasn’t even reached 20s !!!! He’s still baby !!!!! He’s going to make mistakes and learn and he might be reluctant and angry to do ( please see trauma re: parent death and assassination attempts )  so but he’s gonna do it to better himself which is what he wants to do !!! )

Piero learned so much from his parents, from tutors and teachers alike, but there is something more about experiencing things for himself and not just from the words of others and that’s where his youth shows. The first time he fought, really fought, not for practice or for fun ( something about him just coded him as a bully in my mind, one who’d pick a fight with someone who, one, would fight back, and, two, someone he would definitely beat, but I digress ), in my mind, was when Tiberius came to kill him. There was a fight or flight reaction and he was proud and cocky and pumped up on adrenaline because — this — this was what it was all for. He fought with a flurry of fists, frenzied, wild. In that moment, he knew this for certain: Ruizes were powerful and forceful and they would not flee. If he died right then, so be it, but he wouldn’t have looked death in the face and accepted it.

Okay, so this has turned into a rambling character analysis, and I apologize because I said I was done rambling, and clearly not. That said, I don’t regret it. I just have so much passion and fervor for Piero and I could write a ton more. I might. Later. We’ll see.

I just can’t help but be captured by how striking he is. He’s new to Verona, new to this scene of criminal seediness because this is when he’s finally beginning to get his hands dirty, beyond the basics of opening his eyes. His parents were introducing him to this life, but they didn’t let him delve too deep. They were bringing him in slowly, and then they died. He had nothing right then, nothing but his name and its weight. That wasn’t enough, but his brutality was. When death came for him, it made a mark on Tiberius for him — maybe all of the Capulets, too — and now he’s determined to leave a stain on all of Verona, perhaps Spain and the rest of the world, too.

I originally saw him as something of a blank slate when it came to his being in Verona, but after thinking it through a tad more, he isn’t. His parents wrote his future for him with the very incident of his birth, and now he is filling in the blanks that have been left for him after their deaths. Verona — the Capulets — they are a step in his path to power. Here, he could find allies — he already has enemies — and he learned at a young age the value others could be in company. Over time, maybe they will see that he is someone with a bright future, someone who should be watched carefully because blink and you’ll miss his grab for something better.

He should not be overlooked and that is something I think people might do. Sure, his family had a reputation, one that might cause some pause, but they might think he isn’t them. He is young and inexperienced, but there’s a chip on his shoulder and in his mouth is a taste for blood. He won’t go down quietly or without a fight. He is watching and waiting for chance and opportunity. He’ll prove any doubter wrong, he’s sure of it with all the self-confidence and egotism a princeling could have.

What is a future plot idea you have in mind for the character? |

1. Emotional Motion Sickness: Something that struck me about Piero is how he once wore his emotions on his sleeve. He fought for his life, fueled by loss and grief. He has a practiced void in his eyes and locked tears away. In my mind, this is not him, it is not in his nature. He was the sort to be fueled by idle amusements, wanting satisfaction, his eagerness knowing no bounds. He feels, and he feels immensely. It could be said it’s what he does best.  But now? He is quiet, showing little. It’s vacant and a little numbing, and the void in his eyes is cold and distant. What his cards are and what he intends to play are known to him and him only. I can’t help but think that maybe, one day, he is going to break, the facade dropping, eyes blazing. Anyone caught in the crossfire surely would regret their taunts and jeers.

1. I just have this vision of him snapping. It would take a lot — honestly, a lot — because he’s created this solid version of himself, almost patient, somewhat mostly obedient ( I do imagine he chafes under rules a little — more than a little bit actually, but he bites it back time and time again ) but unfeeling. Jibs and jabs don’t get to him. They seemingly roll off of his back. I have to say that isn’t the case. He’s proud and he can only take so many insults. If — actually, when — he breaks, it’s going to have been a long time coming. The facade will start to break, cracks showing in the twitch of his fingers, the tension in his jaw. Maybe it will earn him respect from those around him when he snaps and demands more for him  — he’s more than just the last of the Ruizes, living off of the faded glory of their name, and he’ll be damned if he’s not allowed to show it — but maybe it will only be a reminder that he was a loose end, and he was meant to be dead to begin with.

2. Who Am I? You Decide: He comes to Verona and what’s most obvious is that he has offered himself wholly to the Capulets. It’s not what his parents did — they were owed power for their allyship while Piero is now owed nothing. At the beginning, he is dutiful and obedient. He’s got nothing to lose but he has everything to gain here. He has to prove himself, really it’s his main goal. To do this, he finally understands words his parents told him so many years ago. Detener la marea y esperarar al momento adecuado: Hold back the tide and wait for the right time. He’s trying to listen and be quiet and wait and watch, but he’s never known patience well. He acted and reacted in his youth — power and privilege granted that ability — and this restraint is taking a lot of effort.

1. The facade crumbles and falls slowly, piece by piece. It starts with remarks and quips that are a touch too dry and that have too jagged an edge to people who don’t matter. It then escalates. He tries to manipulate situations where he sees a chance to take hold. He bites when he should be muzzled ; he acts of his own accord. I have no doubt that his own desires and whims to take action will get him in trouble. He is a wicked boy and always has been, soul stained black by birthright and only darkened with time. He found thrill in other people getting hurt, whether by his hand or not. He found glee in twisting his words to twist knives in others’ hearts. Maybe he learned it from watching his parents — they were by no means good people — but maybe it was part nurture, part nature. It was fate to be bad, or at the very least unkind.

2. His true nature shows in these ways: he speaks when he shouldn’t, he becomes too comfortable around Tiberius, a man who is like a friend and a brother, but ultimately was the man who was meant to kill him. It shows in his interactions with Vivianne, charm oozing, frenetic words of grandeur and idyllic plans slipping from his lips in eager commentaries about Verona and Spain and the whole world further. He speaks to them as if they are not his betters — as if he is more than even an equal — and soon it is not only them. It will become everyone.

3. Throwing Rocks Around Your Room: Everything in his life has been destroyed or taken from him in irreparable ways. This new life, this new existence, a part of him wonders how long it will last ( there is, of course, a certainty that this has to last. It’s this life in the mobs, or death. No middle, no escape. All or nothing. Black or white ). He seems so neutral, so unmoveable, but his head is a wrecking ball. He thinks of ways to destroy not only himself but all those around him. A part of him thinks the Capulets are to blame for the ruination of his family and their name — exceedingly childish, for sure — but he wonders what it would be like to see them crumble, perhaps making a martyr of himself in the process. The one flaw to this is that he does not want to die. For what use was him surviving this long if it comes not to a head ? He needs to make a mark. He needs to be known not just by a few Capulets and other Veronesi — but by everyone. He wants parents to shiver when their babes utter his name. He wants his name in history books, imprinted on pages that will survive longer than their maker.

1. Destruction has followed Piero. At first, it was only others, starting with children who crossed him, and then it turned to the enemies of his family. He did well when it was his hand casting the stone. And then, it turned on him. His family’s empire turned from masterpiece to rubble. Another turn took and his family was whittled down to one. The idea of erupting and destroying who he thinks hurt him ? Somewhat appealing. But he can’t do it. He wants more. He’s hungry to become bigger than he is. I want him to find a way to do it ( and while he’d consider acting Brutus within the Capulets, his own pride and ambition would be champ at the bit, rendering him unable ) or at least consider his options. He’s restless as part of the Capulets. He feels like they are keeping him down, not letting him be enough.

4. I Don’t Have a Fancy Title for This One I’m Sorry: When it comes to Tiberius, Piero wants to impress him, to prove him right, that sparing him was the right choice. But at the same time, bitterness remains and finds itself seeping into his blood, the feeling intensifying, every time Piero finds himself being held back by the scruff. With his … befriending ( that isn’t the right word, and it doesn’t convey what I want to say ? Admiring ? Infatuation — not romantically, of course ) of Vivianne, he wonders if impressing her over Tiberius is the way to go. He considers ignoring Tiberius, going off on his own and making his own choices. Maybe that’s what he needs to do to shake off the status of initiate, to become a soldier.

1. tl;dr: Eventually, if Tiberius doesn’t let Piero have a little more responsibility and things to do, he’ll find someone else who will grant him that.

Current State of Being

→ Piero is trying to stay in line, keep quiet, and do what’s asked of him. But he’s antsy and he’s simmering. There’s so much he has to say ; he’s so not used to being at the bottom of the pecking order. It’s not going to last. He’s got a lot to say, he wants to do things. Sooner or later, he’s going to stop waiting for permission ( and, in turn, he’ll beg for forgiveness if need-be )

Character Goals

→ Have Piero use his voice. He stops listening to the jeers and taunts of everyone who thinks they know all there is to know about them, and he tells them off. He’s no longer silent and maybe people will look at him in a different light. Or maybe he gets in trouble. Either way would further. I’m leaning towards having him react and get angry, raising his voice in a way he shouldn’t.

→ His true nature shows. Wicked is as wicked does. He gets comfortable in Verona. He acts on instinct, he lashes out. Maybe someone gets hurt — maybe it’s him, maybe not. He starts to abuse his ability to talk to people, twisting words and twisting hearts and feelings. Manipulation is in his blood. He acts out, he steps out of line and does something for people to see him as more than just a little initiate in the Capulet’s gang.

Are you comfortable with killing off your character? |

Don’t kill baby jk do it i dare you

IN DEPTH

( i’m replying to some of the questions & i did a para sample )

What is your favorite place in Verona?

He gets lost more often than he’d like. He wanders down streets he’s never gone down and through alleys with unknown endings. A part of him would be delighted if it wasn’t overtaken by the idea that he needed to know these streets better than he did. There was no time to be idle, no time to do anything with purpose. Most of the Capulets, surely the Montagues, knew this city like the back of their hands.

He wanted to know it better than they did, better than those naturally Verona-born. It was more than a want, it was a need that burned within him.

Still, the streets were beautiful.

It was different than home, than Spain. There, his family had resided just outside one of its largest city. From his room, he could hear the sounds of cars whizzing by on nearby highways. If he didn’t close the curtains, he would be bombarded with the lights of the city, no stars to be seen.

Here, despite its age and all of its magnitudes, Verona seemed infinitely smaller to him. He was refusing to allow himself to like it, to find a home.

It’s a long time before he finally answers the question, and his response can hardly be considered an answer. He only gives a shrug of his shoulders, absent, vague, and his gaze turns towards the window. His eyes are dead and shark-like as people pass by.

That’s not an answer, Piero.

He sighs, a loud and exasperated sound. There’s another pause on his part, this one longer and emphasized by his ability to not look at the asker once. This person — the soldato — means nothing to him. He’s sure they’ve already passed their prime. They’re as likely to ascend further as he is to fall flat — which is to say unlikely. And because of this, he cares little for them. He waits to say something poised and clever until perfect ears are listening.

Finally, there comes an answer, the barest bones of respect he’ll give, one with a little more substance to it. That doesn’t mean his voice has an affect that is more than flat. It doesn’t mean he seems to care. “ There’s a little flower shop that I can see from the window of my flat. I’ve never — “ his nose wrinkles at the thought “ — I’ve never bought anything from it, but it reminds me of when I was living another life. ”

It reminds him of the day his parents died and he was left standing alone to face their destruction, his shoes sticking to the hardwood floors as blood dried on their soles.

What has been your biggest mistake thus far?

“ Ambition is my folly. ”

It’s said lightly, airily, as if it doesn’t matter. Look closer, see how the muscle clenches in his cheek, how there’s a sparkle momentarily flashing in his eyes before it fades to dullness. He wants to do something that has weight ( — like the heft of a gun in his hand, the feeling of his body atop another’s as his fists bear down ) and yet he is relegated to simple tasks only. He feels like a page, or perhaps worse, a pawn, unimportant and oh-so-easily replaceable.

Maybe his mistake has been living.

It shouldn’t seem like that.

But he hates being an underling. He hates being told what to do and when to do it. His life is now dictated by another, not even a Ruiz. When it was his parents instructing him, it felt different, less like someone was making all of his choices for him and more like — more like he mattered ? There is no need to convince himself that he did matter to his parents — he was next in line, preened and primed, being readied to take the throne his family had been sitting on for generations — because he knows it’s true. Here ? One wrong move can cost everything.

Perhaps he should have allowed himself to have been martyred, killed in cold blood despite fighting to prevent it. He would have been the last of the Ruizes ; they’d have been remembered for not going down easily. Now ? He thinks a wrong glance cast could mean his throat will be slit.

You don’t seem so ambitious to me.

He supposes most won't have seen it. Tiberius knows — Tiberius has heard him ask over and over for something to do, something bigger and better, with meaning, and so has Vivianne, he would be remiss to forget her — but everyone else ? He doesn’t suppose it’s important enough information for his sponsor to pass along that he wants to do more, so he rationalizes that most think he’s just a good little soldier-to-be, keeping his head down and toes in line. It’s not time for people to fear him, not just yet. That time will come.

“ Then maybe my biggest mistake was that lie. ”

Para Sample

He has been being followed for sometime now. It is always a shadow in the periphery of his vision, disappearing when he turns to see, a jacket billowing behind someone who had just walked out of frame. Piero wonders if this should make him nervous. He’s considered it, the idea that someone must want him dead to end the Ruiz family once and for all. They came for his parents, now it’s his turn. It’s a horrifying thought at first light, but there is something dangerously satisfying to him within it, at the idea of someone considering him that necessary to end. Perhaps it’s dark and twisted, but not all boys born to wear a crown come out golden.

Nearly a week passes, and by now he’s on edge. Every knock on the door of the shitty motel he’s staying in, every blow of wind against the glass windows, sets him on edge. There are purple circles under his eyes, dark as can be. He hasn’t been sleeping well. He tosses and turns, his deepest worries allowed to fester and grow in unguarded dreams, until he wakes unrested. He can’t go on like this much longer. He’s wondered if it’s worth it to flee Spain, to call on distant relatives, begging on bent knees for salvation and charity. His own pride sets him straight. Cowardice is not an option. Ruiz blood has reigned over Spain for generations. He will not be the one to bring that to an end, bringing shame to his name and the memory of his parents.

It’s just past three in the morning when he hears the turn of the doorknob. He sits up straight in the rickety armchair in the corner, his eyes adjusting to the darkened room, and he stares and he waits. He considers running. There’s a window in the bathroom, already open. He’s slender enough to squeeze through it if he really wants to, he’s given thought to it already — the doorknob rattles again, a thump echoes through the room as something hits the wood of the door — but he thinks to himself he doesn’t have the time. If he tries it, he’ll be caught halfway out. He cannot flee if it will lead inevitably to his demise. It’s embarrassing and shameful and wouldn’t do. Even in the face  of death, Piero is as proud as ever.

The moments before the door cracks open, broken by the weight of another’s body, seem to last forever. He thinks of himself. He thinks of all the things he has yet to do. He thinks about his parents, their dreams and expectations for him. This becomes painfully clear: he cannot die without a fight. This is his moment. No matter the outcome, someone will remember the Ruizes. They were once noble and strong, but they didn’t allow their fire to go out so easily. It’s all he can do.

The door breaks, and he’s on his feet finally. The room is still dark but he can see motion in the darkness. He will let his attacker come to him. To tire himself out, to make all motion, seems like it’d be a mistake. Though he’s expecting it, the first hit knocks all of the air out of his lungs. Another hit lands, then another. Finally, something snaps within him. Elbows in, chin down. That’s what his mother taught him. He’s wild and frenzied, suddenly hits aren’t met with pause, and he begins throwing blow after blow, some hitting, some not. He’s all in. There is no hesitation, not anymore. It’s become apparent, right then, after this week of waiting, that perhaps another motivation is a fear of death.

It’s not an unreasonable thing. He is barely nineteen, hardly an adult, barely lived. He thinks there is so much more for him to do, to see and to experience. In his head, his mantra becomes I will not die today. Over and over, he says it to himself, despite blows hitting his body, his own strikes meeting their targets, muscles pounding against flesh.

Thoughts continue to rush through his mind. Why is he fighting ? For his parents. Why does he need to ? They’re dead. There are tears welled up in his eyes, out of pain and anger and grief. They shouldn’t be dead. They should be here. He shouldn’t be fighting. A choke sob escapes through swelling lips, but he doesn’t let himself falter. This is life or death, and he is doing everything he can to choose life.

His mouth tastes of iron and salt, but it isn’t from his own body. A fist met his lips, teeth scraped against gentle flesh, and Piero had drawn first blood. Though there were bruises forming on his own body already, though his muscles ache and scream, there is something satisfying about that. All he can do is manage to stay standing, quick on his feet, landing in jabs where he can.

The sounds in the room are heavy breathing and the noise of flesh hitting flesh. He wonders if the neighbors have been disturbed. He wonders if they care.

He isn’t sure how long has passed. He isn’t sure how much longer he can last. This fight, this rush of adrenaline coursing through him, it’s all new. Before this, it had always been fights that ended when someone hit the ground or time was up. Never had stakes been so high. A part of him is screaming for it to stop ; another wonders why this is only the first time. There’s something fulfilling in it, and maybe that’s monstrous, but Piero thinks that maybe he was born to be brutal and bloodthirsty. For so long, he had been charming and a pseudo-intellectual, clever and cunning. There had been merit to that, yes, but this ? Every fist that connects with skin sends a rush through him, a thrill like never before.

He isn’t sure how much time has passed when the man takes a step back from him, a thrown swing causing him to fall off balance. For a second, his heart leaps to his throat and he thinks this is it. But the man doesn’t take the misstep as an opportunity. Instead, he’s looking at him, interest crossing his features. Piero doesn’t let his fists fall to his side, he doesn’t know why the man has stopped, and he is too in the moment to care. He takes the chance the man doesn’t and swings, his fist meeting the man’s jaw. It lands with a satisfying thwack, but again the man doesn’t retaliate.

“ That’s enough. ”

Piero can’t help but flinch under the tone of resolve and authority, but when he looks up again, the man is still staring at him. No, he is studying. Piero can’t fathom what he can be looking for or why their fight has stopped. His body is screaming, surely if he wakes tomorrow the pain will have increased tenfold, and his most basic reaction is still fight, fight, fight.

He’s winding up his fist again but again the man speaks. “ I said, enough. ”

Piero knows when words spoken are no longer suggestions — when instead they become commands. His fists fall, his shoulders do, too. His expression turns petulant, childlike in its quick and open displeasure.

He is silent, waiting — for what ? He wonders briefly. It could be death and damnation that awaits him. A part of him, however, thinks differently. He has never been idyllic, seeing the world through rose-colored glasses with glee and a grin, but something inside him is waiting not for death’s hand to grip him.

Instead, he waits. Blood is rushing through his ears still, his pulse is throbbing. Finally, finally —

“ Sit down, boy. Let’s talk. ”

Extras:

FAST FACTS

( i looked up spanish naming customs for this and i might have gotten it right but i might not have i need to do more reading to be 100% sure but i still wanted to include it )

→ Full Name: Piero Ruiz Lorca

→ Mother: Marcella Blanca Lorca de Ruiz

→ Father: Piero Ruiz Zapatero

→ Siblings: None

→ Birthday: July 12th ; this makes him a Cancer

→ Hometown: Cordoba, Spain

→ Dominant Character Traits: harsh, ambitious, bloodthirsty, rash, driven,  

HEADCANONS

001. For generations now, men wore the name Piero, his grandfather the third, Piero the fifth. There were expectations to meet, legacies to exceed. Live up to your namesake. Piero’s father was speaking of his own father at the time and, while this weight of that bore heavily down, the young boy could only think of becoming instead like his father. His grandfather died before memories of him solidified in a young child’s head, and so he only knew of him through tales and rumors. For his father, though, he watched as all stood when he walked into a room, his presence commanding respect, his reputation demanding it. While his hands were stained bloodied red, he was a beacon of light that people looked to, he captured attention easily. Once he understood, Piero craved that same state of existence. The children he grew up around, he had their attention, but in a different way. They whispered about him when his back was turned, they ducked their heads and left the room once he entered. It was a shame, really, but he was sure he would grow into his father’s shoes, filling the role the elder Ruiz did easily. For some time, he believed he was doing exactly that. And then, his parents were slaughtered, and the role he had to fill was that of a ghost. Now that he is human once more, as part of the Capulets and their crew, he feels like he once did as a child, unliked and not very seen. It’s digging at him, shoving splinters under already broken nails, causing him to grit his teeth and try a thousand times harder to earn a little bit of the damned respect he so desperately craves. It’s one of the few things that his father told him to do, this living up to his namesake. His father might be dead, rotting in the ground, with most of his words forgotten to time and space, but his spectral voice lives on in Piero’s head.

002. I have this image of Piero, maybe no older than fifteen, sixteen, at a table surrounded by compatriots of his parents. An older man, in his fifties, or perhaps, his sixties, is chewing tobacco. It’s disgusting. His gums are coated in black spit and when he smiles there are specks on his teeth. Piero cannot hide his disdain. But he’s chewing something, too. With all of his egotism, his thoughts that he is better than those before, he’s found a better option. Mint. It’s fresh and better and — the adults around him, most find him insufferable. For good reason. Anyway, it’s stupid and dumb, but god, I imagine it’s a habit he hasn’t broken. It also means mojitos are his favorite cocktail. No, I won’t elaborate on this or give any good reason for it besides please, I want it, and it’s just youthful arrogance, you know ? Before Verona, before his parents died, I feel like he had just come into himself — he felt sure and he was certain that life was grand. Era una vida tan buena. He was cocky and a little … I don’t know. Smarmy ? That’s not quite the word I want, but god, Piero was living each day as it came. Nothing could faze him. He lived under the shield of his parents and their name, of his own youth. There was privilege in that. He had seen the taste of power and luxe that his parents’ world — the one he was set to inherit once he was of age — and it delighted him. He revelled in it. He wouldn’t have to unlearn his innate cruelties, his hubris. He was a prince set to ascend, his crown was never askew.

003. As a child, he was raised not only to be smart, wisened by words of the experiences and the words in books, but to be cultured as well. His mother took him to parties with him on her arm, where his smiles never quite reached his eyes under the coos and remarks of her friends. He talked when spoken to, he never raised his voice. He could be charming when he needed to be, grins and chubby-cheeked, with words uttered that they desperately wanted to hear. He never enjoyed them, especially not when his parents would slip away into back rooms to have their own meetings. He would wait resting under the doorknob, eyes desperately seeking for some revelation under the door’s crack, ears yearning for words through the keyhole. The door would open at midnight, if not later, and he would fall into the room because of how he’d been leaning against the door. On the rainiest of days with no other plans, they would find themselves lost in museums all over the continent ( they had money, and while they didn’t quite flaunt it, they didn’t have qualms about traveling ). Beautiful things never caught his eye. They were nice, sure; but they were idle and dull and fleeting in his mind. Were his mother not guiding him ( in another life, one without bloodlust and bloodshed, she would have been a curator — a stunning one, establishing beautiful collections that many would travel to. alas, this is not our story ), he would have been lost in statues of gore, in paintings of wars and hatred. There was something about them that caught his attention and never let go. Is there beauty in being brutal ? Piero would say so.

004. The Ruiz home was decorated with exorbitant quantities of flowers while Piero lived there with his parents — why wouldn’t it be that way ? Their front for their operations was a massive floral establishment, it was only fitting for their home to be decorated accordingly. As a child, he loved their scent filling the halls and rooms — roses and lilies and all sorts of magnificent blooms. They were pretty and they weren’t long-lasting, but they were always something that represented his family, and he would be remiss to say a part of him wasn’t fond of them. However, from the day his parents died, all he can remember besides their shouts in frantic Spanish is the scent of blood and flowers. Now, any breath of anything floral makes him gag. It’s unfortunate.

005. The first time he held a gun — the first time he did so with meaning, it loaded, intended to be used against another — he was fourteen. He followed behind his mother, into a meeting with a man who owed the Capulets money. She knew he was unlikely to run or cause a fuss ( he had pride and character, his mother told him, and though he had wronged them, only a coward would have fled or refused his fate ) and thought it perfect for Piero’s first attendance. He stood behind his mother, just beside her shoulder, and listened as she talked. He stood on the balls of his feet, eager and ready for his chance to do something — anything. It never came, much to his disappointment. His mother said everything she needed to. She demanded payment. The man refused, citing he couldn’t. His mother nodded, then she fired one shot into the middle of his head. They left quickly after that, someone would be coming to clean up the mess, and the weight of Piero’s gun felt heavy in his hands having gone unfired.

006. He has nightmares. Nobody knows — he refuses to tell anyone for fear of it being seen as weakness or a vulnerability — but surviving two assassination attempts ? It should come as no surprise that it’s affected his psyche. But there are nights, more often than he’d like, that he wakes up, thrashing, sweat-coated legs and arms tangled up in bedsheets, and his heart is beating in frantic panic. It takes a moment for Piero to realize that his life is in no danger ( at least, not at that specific point in time ) and then he lets his head fall back to the pillow. The days after, he finds himself more on edge than normal, dark-circled eyes narrowed and angry.

PINTEREST BOARD

Rambly Bits That Didn’t Fit Anywhere Nicely But Still Provide Notion Of Character And I Didn’t Want To Delete Permanently For Fear Of Regretting That Decision Later

2. His parents were not good people. They never had hope of cleaning the blood off of their hands and fingers, but they never had desire to burn them clean. At his birth, he was blessed by aunts and uncles in hopes he’d have a fraction of his parents’ abilities — their cruelty, their decisiveness, their skill with gun and blade. He grew up in a home that never knew weak submission ; it was eat or be eaten, and he learned that quickly. He watched friends of his parents cry for mercy after failures — ones he didn’t understand in the moment, not until years later, when he crept downstairs in the midnight hours to watch their meetings through stair railings — and he watched as they were met with slaps to cheeks and sometimes worse. He was too young to understand the permanence of death, but he understood that a hole in a man’s temple meant he was never getting up. He saw the cool poise his father wore as he held a smoking gun — he imagined himself, older, in the same position. He echoed the steely edges his parents’ voices took ; he repeated the words they said that meant nothing to him until his cadence and tone matched theirs.

3. His parents praised him while he was in school when teachers and tutors reported that he was harsh in the face of sadness or whining and unable to handle the wrong answers of others.  It only worsened ( bettered ? ) as he grew older. His harshness seemed less precocious and began to unsettle others. Tutors and teachers began to dislike being in the same room as him. He wore a smile that said let me do as I please and his temper echoed I mean it. He asked them questions about things they didn’t know, baiting them with their insufficiencies until they had no other option but to quit. His parents would only hire someone new with no question. No one was spared. He asked personal and probing questions until they shifted in their seats. He was like a needle under their skin, sharp and uncomfortable.  )

4. Being a part of something bigger than himself. Isn’t that what a king does — or in Piero’s case, a princeling ? They are a large part of their kingdom, surely, and, though they might be its head, it cannot exist without its body. There needs to be support. When he was young, being a god amongst the other children wasn’t enough. He wanted something more. He wanted to be something more. He knew his parents did something that made them special, and their dis-including him ( for whatever reason it could be, he wondered night after night, staring up at the stucco ceiling, sleepless and agonizing ) just wouldn’t work for him. He needed to be involved, he needed to know. His knowing parts of their secrets, the whispers he overhead, was enough to build up his patience until it came to know more.

5. He has his eyes set on the crown his family once wore ; he was born and bred into a vicious line.

6. It’s a game of chess. Where once he was perhaps a knight or a bishop aside his parents’ queenhood, someone who could advise and assist, he feels now hardly more than a pawn. There are others in charge and he acts in their stead to do their bidding. He knows it’s what he must do. He must build his power back up, but gods above, the wait is agonizing. He wants to feel the rush of adrenaline that power brings surge through him again. He wants to make his own choices and decisions.

7. His peers had it worse. Unlike teachers whose authority he undermined, he knew he was better and above his cohort — a king amongst sheep. He ruled conversations even when no word slipped from his mouth. They needed to entertain him or he’d find another way to spend his time. ( A brief interlude: his “ friends ” didn’t like him but were scared of telling him no — also, they were most likely the children of his parents’ friends and associates, so there was need to make good with Piero. ) He’d pit them against each other with lies and rumors he’d overheard or made up. It was interesting to see them scramble, like ants under a magnifying glass. So long as he was amused, where was the harm ?

[selfships-in-spanish]

Hey! Hope you're staying safe during all of this. I know that there's like a million AUs kicking around rn, but they're so addictive to make, so I figured why not throw one more into the ring? I don't know if you've watched this show, but Connor and Ona's dynamic got me thinking of a Doctor Who!AU, where Connor is the super-smart, oddball Doctor who is fascinated with dogs, and Ona is his companion in traveling through space and time? -Simon-Data Anon

SIMON-DATA-ANON I FUCKING LOVE DOCTOR WHO. Until Moffat got his dirty hands on it and ruined it :) (I know lots of people love it and it’s okay xD But for me it lost a lot of its essence and became a huge “wtf is going on” and “pLOT TWISTS EVERYWHERE AAAH no but seriously what is going on”). I still gotta watch Jodie’s Doctor because fuck YES I was so happy to see her there.

But. Moffat.

AHEM.

I am okay! I’m trying to be as safe as possible, but thank you for your message and concern ^^ it means so much

But back to the new AU…

Yes, yes they are addictive to create xD It’s fun exploring the characters in different settings and worlds, which bring such richness and depth in them! It’s harmless, fun and you guys participate with feeding the beast, so it’s a win-win all around xD

But Connor as The Doctor is a fun thought! Looks human, sounds human, but something is… off. Too much nonsense, quick blabbering about wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey… stuff. 

Scratch that, something is definitely off, Ona thinks.

Too enthusiastic about the city (and probably world) going to shit. She was on a vacation, enjoying her time at a friend’s house who invited her to come for a few weeks, and she found herself in the middle of a fucking alien attack on London (she’s tempted to send videos and photos to that spanish tv program about aliens and demons and stuff. They are gonna go crazy over it).

Ona didn’t know if fate itself decided to play a massive prank on her the day she met Connor, The Doctor. He had a glint in his eyes that reminded her of an overexcited child on Christmas. He was always running, running and running (he took her hand the first time, which baffled her, and told her to run) everywhere, danger licking his heels. Ona was too shocked to panic.

Connor saw something in her. He always had a soft spot for humans, and some were quite interesting. Connor encountered many, countless of interesting and unique humans, and he always enjoyed the time he spent with those humans. But he saw something in her, at how level-headed she had been even though she had her first experience with aliens, and it wasn’t pleasant.

But she was curious. She had questions, she wanted answers, demanded answers. Self-assured, bull-headed, first to throw a fist, but with a heart of gold. This human even sassed him, having just met. She’s perfect.

Ona becomes Connor’s humanity, his empathy in moments where his Time-Lord “status” gets to his head. He’s not a god, he’s just another alien who travels through time and space with two damn hearts. He has spent far too long being praised, feared and adored, that he forgot he is just another alien in space with high technology and knowledge. He is smart and he knows it, but after Ona’s hurt look after an argument and having her entire race being called stupid apes, he realized what a fucking conceited idiot he was. It was painful to watch, after wanting to swallow up the words he just spit, how she wordlessly stormed into a room which the TARDIS wouldn’t let him in (his TARDIS likes his companion more than him!).

Ona being colder than space was not fun. He really had to make it up to her, Connor was never good at such kinds of confrontation. Throw him into an enemy ship and he knew what to do, but having a hurt and angry woman was another matter.

Buuut let’s get back into funnier things :D

Connor of course makes the “it’s bigger on the inside” joke, which makes Ona fire back something like “this is the worst pick-up line I’ve ever heard.” Connor blushes.

Ona also discovers what a Time-Lord is, and also the famous 13 lives. She thinks of him as a two legged cat. Ona teases him endlessly with that, calling him kitty. He likes dogs, not cats.

Connor discovers Ona enjoys teasing him endlessly.

…but he likes it. Very much.

[grownups-are-the-real-monsters]

C'est La Vie

Summary: “Riding around with the car top down and the radio on. Nobody looked any finer or was more of a hit at the Parkway Diner. We never knew we could want more than that out of life. Surely Richie and Eddie would always know how to survive…” Glimpses into Richie & Eddie’s lives. 

Summary is lyrics adapted from: ‘Scenes from an Italian Restaurant’ ~ Billy Joel. Title from ‘C’est La Vie’ by Bob Seger…

Words:  18,691

Ship: Reddie 

{October, Senior Year}

School was in session. Leaves were falling from the trees, Freshman were trying to get high under the bleachers and the air was beginning to crisp like maple fucking bacon…Richie was having the time of his life. He sniffled because of course, he was already getting his yearly cold…at the start of October.

“The bleachers are freezing my ass, Eds.” He whined loudly but his little partner only chuckled, still scribbling his pen across the notebooks in his lap. 

A breeze passed over them and carried a few pages of Skippy Larson’s chemistry homework across the field just in front of them. The kid darted after them with impressive speed but-‘oh, too much confidence on the catching skills. He misses by a long-shot and falls face first onto the grass!’ 

Richie chuckled and habitually scooped Eddie’s free-hand up to cradle it into his lap. “In a few short months…we won’t even have to worry about…-” He paused to wave his hands around and audibly scoff “-AP Lit homework and shit.” He flicked Eddie’s pen. “Can you believe that, man?” 

Eddie laid his pen down and decided to give his partner the full attention Richie so obviously wanted and in Eddie’s opinion…deserved. “No. I really don’t wanna think about it either, Rich.” 

His sniffles were much cuter than any human beings should be. His nose scrunched up and his eyes got all squinty. Eddie didn’t care much for cold season but it drove Richie crazy. 

“Why not? I’m so fucking excited!” 

“Rich, I’m way too fucking nervous to talk about it. Probably way more nervous than you are excited.” He scoffed, already beginning to shove his books into his backpack.

“Really? Cause I’m so excited that I can hardly breathe!” He smacked Eddie’s hand gently.

With humor suddenly just as dry as Richie’s toast had been that morning, Eddie slowly and obnoxiously reached into his bag for the inhaler and shot himself up to space. His lips were still recovering from the lovely ‘O’ shape he’d had to make but he managed a wide smirk when his chin tilted back down. 

“Funny, babe.” Richie rolled his eyes but couldn’t help but giggle a bit. His eyes drifted to the homework tornado again as a sigh built up in his throat. It wasn’t as if he wasn’t going to miss high school. Because in some ways, he would. Lots of great things happened either in that building or because of it. 

Richie got to film the best student movie in the history of TV Pro which turned out to be collected found footage of the Losers in their natural habitat. Bill managed to write one killer story after another and really started pursuing his passion. Ben and Bev had their first kiss in Mr. Walker’s Algebra class and made history. The day Stan made the fucking baseball team had been one of Richie’s favorite freakin’ days of all time. And Mike organizing a completely made-up 'cinema’ club just to get the library all to themselves with the coolest teacher ever was a close second. 

But the best thing that ever happened within those school walls was during the start of Freshman Year when Richie finally got the guts to ask Eddie out properly. 

They’d basically been dating since they were kids. Hell, their first kiss was in a blanket fort in Bill’s basement when they were like nine. Eddie didn’t like to count that but Richie held it close to his heart because it was funny as shit. 

Sixth grade had been a big year. Richie would carry Eddie’s books home for him and would stick by him even when the path became out of his way. They took the path that would lead them past the Neibolt Street Church so Eddie could hear a bit of that music he liked so much. 

But it wasn’t until Freshman year when the true magic happened. The fact that Eddie agreed to the proposed date nearly killed Richie on the spot that day.

Richie smiled to himself before glancing at his partner who was now following the wind of paper from Skippy Larson too. His eyes were speeding fast to follow every moment of the twirling disaster. 

They’d gone to that drive-in root-beer place that Richie had always been dying to try. It was across the street from the now abandoned 7/11 that used to be a CVS where no one had ever shopped. He’d ordered a hot-dog and Root-beer Float that became hard to keep down when all his nerves started shaking him. He remembered being scared that he was going to waste the date just worrying he might blow chunks onto the bright orange vinyl chair. “Honestly Eddie, why did you give me a second date? I mean that first one was so…I mean, you watched me dip my hot-dog into my Root-beer Float.” Richie chuckled, legs jittering up and down. 

Eddie quirked his brow and paused. “Yeah and you watched me nearly fight that worker for dropping that order of fries and trying to shove them back on the tray before anyone noticed.” 

“Yeah but that was hot.” Richie smirked

“Well, maybe I thought the hot-dog thing was hot…” Eddie shoved some of his papers away and finally gave his boyfriend full attention. 

“I’m sure the puke was hot when you slipped on my chunks in the parking lot, ‘member?” Richie smirked and Eddie gagged at the memory. 

“Never bring that up again, asshole.” 

The two of them playfully smacked each-other around for a couple minutes before a peaceful silence fell over again. From his place above, Richie saw Skippy pick up his remaining papers and high-tail it outta the football field before any players decided practice started early. The question from before still bounced in Richie’s mind like those boxes never quite hitting the corner in those DVD wait screens. ‘Honestly Eddie, why did you give me a second date?’

“What’s your mom making for dinner?” Eddie laid his chin on his palm and smiled in that soft, genuine way that poked at Richie’s heart. In some ways, he felt they were like an old married couple. And he wasn’t using that term to excuse any nasty bickering like some other high-school phase couples. No. 

It was just…-He and Eddie knew each other. They were so familiar and extremely comfortable with everything they did. “Mmmmm, Chicken Parmesan.” 

They smiled at each other, just thinking about the calm rest of the day ahead of them. 

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

Eddie followed Richie inside the Tozier household, taking his shoes off at the door and setting them next to the others as Richie breezed past it, forgetting like usual. Eddie grinned to himself, shaking his head. The home was nothing special, sort of small but fleshed out. Photos on the wall in frames that were carefully thought out as they were purchased at some home goods store. It still put a smile on Eddie’s face to see that he was featured in some of those pictures.

He briefly passed by his favorite that was in the blue frame, the one that was chipped in the corner from when Richie dropped it. It was taken sometime during last Christmas, Richie and himself were having some sort of conversation that must’ve been highly amusing, what is was about Eddie doesn’t remember, but they’re laughing hard enough that Richie is falling forward onto his shoulder, The Tozier parents were actually looking at the camera with grins. Eddie smiled to himself as he glanced at it.

Mrs. Tozier  was pouring a few drinks as they entered the kitchen, a warm grin on her face.

“Hello boys.” She smiled sweetly and handed them each a glass of water as she slid a cup of coffee to Mr. Tozier as he came in the room with a smile.

“How’s my favorite son?” He asked in that dad tone of voice that Eddie had only come accustomed to through him.

Richie swallowed a large slurp of the water and set it back on the table, the sweat dripping onto his hand. “I’m your only son…” He tilted his head with a confused but amused expression.

Wentworth blew down into the mug, the steam rising and spreading. “I was talking to Eddie.” He looked up just in time to catch Richie’s gasp of offense. He chuckled, picking up his mug and patting Eddie on the back as he passed him. “Which reminds me Eddie, I’m working on the garage again, can I count on your help-?”

“While I am flattered that you complimented me to butter me up before you asked but-” Eddie smiled, hand over his chest. “I can’t.”

“Ed’s and I are have a special date night tonight, pops.” Richie slapped Eddie’s back gently and stirred his water glass like it was a proper drink. 

“Oooh, yeah.” Wentworth shared a small grin with his son and took down some more of his steaming hot drink. “You two kids have a great time. I’ll be all by my lonesome down there and I’ll probably break that damn car…” He pointed towards the garage door with exaggerated glum. “Unless one, Mrs. Tozier would come visit me, later?” He bumped Maggie’s elbow and she chuckled. 

“I’ll bring you some dinner later. Make sure you take the laundry basket up to my room before you go off.” Maggie gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before he left that Richie mimicked on Eddie for chucks. It always made his mother giggle, anyway. 

“Ok, so Chicken Parmesan for dinner….” Maggie gestured to the oven and smiled. “I’ll let you know when it’s done but for now…” She paused and picked up a dirty old box from the floor behind the counter. “I have some Halloween Decorations, would you boys help an ol’ mother out?” 

“Sure thing, Mrs. Tozier!” Eddie stood on the tips of his toes to peek inside while Richie took the ghost string lights out and threw them around his neck like a scarf. With a salute, Richie took off with the box and Eddie darted after him. 

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

Mrs. Tozier, Maggie, rooted her hands through the sock draw and occasionally pulled out a few pairs and folded them together. Her nails caught on the thread every few minutes, she’d pull and pull until the thin string would just snap. But on the eighth time she grew a little bit restless and snapped the string but quickly shut the drawer afterwards. “Wentworth?”

She turned to her husband, who was still lazing around with his coffee and blowing on it as if it was still hot. She gave him a small smile and walked towards him, putting her hand on his back. He looked up at her, waiting for her to speak what was on her mind. “Do you think-” She paused for a second before shaking her head. “Never mind, it’s stupid.”

Wentworth smiled up at his wife and chuckled, swallowing his first tedious sip of coffee. “I say a lot of stupid things, I won’t mind.”

Maggie gave him a look a lot of wives give their husbands. One of amusement and familiarity. “Well, I was just wondering…” She began again, going back over to the drawers to root around for something to wear to work the next day. “Do you think the boys are starting to get serious?” She asked, a little unsure of herself.

Wentworth cocked his head to the side and looked lost. “Like how?” He asked, swirling his coffee in his hand. Maggie sighed and leaned back on the drawers behind her. Clasping her hands together, she spoke again.

“I don’t know really.” She frowned and folded an old t-shirt from Richie’s younger days…her eyes got a sad little glaze. “They seem….-they remind me of us in our good ol’ days, huh? When we were about to leave home, so in love…” There was a small hole in the shoulder of the yellow dinosaur shirt. 

Her husband turned the soap opera off the box TV and crawled closer to where she stood at the edge of the bed, taking her hands. “Richie’s getting older, honey-” 

Maggie surprised the both of them by bursting out with a small sob. In embarrassment, she stole a hand back to cover her mouth. “I feel like every-time I-” She broke again and Wentworth rubbed her skin softly. 

She collected herself, tilting her chin to the ceiling fan and letting the loose tears fall. “I know that…when we planned this, I had the idea of a girl, you know?” 

Wentworth nodded. That was a topic they never truly discussed but for a long while, they were both well aware of in those early days. 

“But…He’s my boy. That kid…” She looked towards the door. “He’s what I had been waiting for and I didn’t even realize it. And now it feels like our time together is winding down with his high-school days close to over and Wentworth, I’m not ready to let him go.” Her lips trembled. 

He gently shook her arms and rubbed up and down her skin until she grinned through the tears. “He’s still a teenager, sweet-heart. We got time left yet, huh?” He laughed which she returned. “Side-note, we are definitely still in our good ol’ days. As long as I’m with you.” 

He stood up, putting his coffee on the old dried up water ring mark on the dresser. Maggie smiled at the back of his head, her hand on her heart as she sighed with pleasure before she stood to walk him to the garage.

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

Richie still had the ghosts tied around his neck except now they were plugged into the wall behind him and slightly burning his neck. Eddie was digging through the box and pulling out all kinds of Halloween decor that Richie admired as a personal collection of his childhood…their childhood even. Eddie had just as much a right to claim memories to this shit as Richie. The other losers as well with how much time they spent at his home.

“How come people don’t send out Halloween cards…Y’know like Christmas Cards?” Richie pursed his lips and flipped the switch on an old light up haunted house. 

Eddie shrugged. “People don’t really do Christmas cards anymore either…” He drifted off in thought. “We should though. It’d be really fucking idiotic.” He giggled and Richie smiled. 

The two of them openly discussed their future together many times. It was just always part of their relationship and had never phased them. Maybe some thought of that as childish considering they were still high-schoolers but…it never seemed that way to them. 

“Yeah. We’ll send it to all five of our friends.” Richie chuckled. 

Eddie handed over some stuffed pumpkins and let his hands rub down his jeans as he sighed. “I can’t wait to annoy you in our own house one day.” He pinched Richie’s arm and handed over the hand-made paper Bat. 

His boyfriends heart melted at that, his eyes absolutely worshiping the sight of Eddie. “Shit, Ed’s. Me too.”

Usually there’d be more said between them in moments like this. Maybe a discussion about what their house would end up looking like. But this time they just reached out for each others hands and gently swung them a little with soft smiles. “One of us has to learn to cook.” 

“God, yes.” Richie nodded. “I love it but I can’t live off McDonald’s for long. Maybe my mom can teach me some shit. I can’t imagine it’s too hard.” He shrugged, letting their hands fall apart again to get rid of his ghost necklace. Their was a tiny burn mark on the side of his neck that made Eddie chuckle. Richie slapped the spot he was staring at with mock insecurity and a dazzling smirk. 

The boy opened his mouth only to be interrupted his mother who came strolling in with a dish towel over her shoulder. Richie let his hand fall from his neck without thinking what that spot might suggest with Eddie sitting so close to him. Maggie raised a brow-

“It’s not what you think, Mrs. Tozier. Richie just burned his neck on the ghosts.” Eddie laughed and leaned over to hold the string-lights up again.

“Yeah, I can buy that.” Maggie rolled her eyes and laughed. “Can I borrow you for a minute, Rich?” 

Richie nodded, hopping up and exaggerating a little spill from tripping on Eddie’s legs. He ruffled a hand through Eddie’s hair and followed after his mother. 

Maggie messed with some dishes as she waited for her son to trail in and hoped her eyes weren’t still red. But as little Richie (called little Richard affectionately by his father for years) stopped in front of her, she found herself getting choked up again which was just silly. “You alright ma’? You seem like you might pass out or something.” He giggled and took a grape from the bowl on the counter to stuff into his mouth. 

“Would you two be ok if your father and I went out tonight?-”

“Hot date?” He laughed and Maggie felt her heart tug. 

“Yeah, sure.” She shook her head. “Hot date. Anyway, foods in the oven and should be done soon enough.” She rubbed the pad of her thumb against her nose. “You can make cookies for dessert, you know the number to call if you should accidentally start the house ablaze, do you love your father more than me? And we’ll be gone a few hours.” Maggie rushed her speaking and cringed. She was about to escape the room when Richie realized what she’d snuck in there. 

“Wow, you pulled a real Richie Tozier with that ramble, ma. You know I’m the champion at those.” He started with an awkward laugh before raising his brows. “But um, you don’t really think that..do you?” 

Maggie felt ashamed for bleeding this insecurity on her son but she sighed. “No. It’s just-…sometimes I worry that our relationship is a little rocky sometimes. I shouldn’t have…” She gestured to the garage door where her husband was and then to the living room where Eddie sat. “Bad timing.” She laughed. 

“Ma…..” Richie had never been known to handle serious things very well was panicking a little. “That’s not-…”

“I just let so much precious time go by…not really understanding you quite like your dad does. I’m sure you must have felt it and I hate to think about it.” Maggie frowned, running the towel through her fingers. 

Richie looked to the floor and rolled his lips together which was confirmation enough. 

“Never-mind this, Rich. Go on back, ok?” Maggie attempted to laugh the conversation off like any good ol’ Tozier knew how. “We should be back later tonight.” With that, she pressed a kiss to his temple and sent him back to the living room. 

Richie walked off with a dazed expression and tried to shake his mothers words but found them to be burying deep into his mind anyway. 

His eyes met Eddie’s. His boyfriend was just sitting on the old plaid couch, the one where tiny-tot Richie had once fallen from and knocked his front teeth out, and a rush of love went through his body at once. It didn’t cover up the memory of that conversation but it relieved Richie of the guilty feeling some. 

So he did what any sane person in love would do, throw his entire body atop Eddie’s. One of them let out a shocked sigh and their voices were too molded together to pin it. “Get off me, asshole!” 

Eddie folded his body in such a way that it knocked Richie off him and onto the carpet below the plush couch. He peeked at him from the edge and giggled. 

Richie ended up laying there for quite some time after his parents left, playing with Eddie’s legs as they hung over him and occasionally rubbing the soft skin of his ankles. Though he’d realized almost as soon as he started that it was sort of a trap. Every-time he’d take his hand away, Eddie would wiggle his feet again just urging Richie to start on again. And if he refused, he’d make that soft little whine. How could he say no to that? 

It lead him to memories of being that tiny-tot version of himself again. On movie nights when Richie would glance through the corner of his eye, away from the show of ‘Aladdin’ to his parents to make sure they were watching. Maggie Tozier’s feet would always be shoved into his old man’s lap and she’d be insisting that he rub them. Though he’d complain, Wentworth always did it. 

Richie rubbed another circle against Eddie’s skin and leaned his head against his jean covered leg. When his partners hand came down to run his fingers through his hair, Richie was in such bliss that he missed the first ten beeps of the oven timer. 

“Rich, one of us has to get the dinner.” 

“Set up the dishes?” Richie tilted his chin up, getting a bit of a static shock from Eddie’s jeans. The boy nodded and they went off. 

This was a familiar routine that they had come to know for some time now. Since the beginning of the romantic side of their relationship, Eddie came over for dinner often. The Tozier’s were happy to have the company. 

Richie plated their feast once the table was set and they took their favorite chairs across from each other. It was during these little dinners that Richie finally understood the no TV at the dinner table rule. There was no need for a distraction. 

“How did none of your mothers cooking talent bleed into you growing up?” Eddie hummed happily as he slid his fork out from his lips. 

“You’ve basically known me my whole life, Eds. You know I don’t have the attention span to learn.” 

Eddie rolled his eyes and Richie poked his hand with the back-side of his silverware. “How are things with my dads car?” 

Eddie hummed again. He’d taken up fixing up the thing with Mr. Tozier some weeks ago as a little hobby. He’d always had a fondness for fixing shit up like that and Wentworth had been thrilled to have a good hand around to help him because after all, Richie was not the best at that. “Good. I mean, I’m not car-genius but…I think we’re getting somewhere. Your dad seems excited but then again…he’s a lot like you.” Eddie giggled.

“What does that mean, Kaspbrak?” Richie reached over to pinch at him. 

“Just that he’s excitable-” 

“It’s a cuter look for me, right?” Richie teased and Eddie smacked his hands away. They went at it for a solid five minutes before settling back into their dinners. 

Silence fell over them, all except the sounds of their dishes. “Hey, Ed’s?” 

The boy glanced up, some strands of hair falling over his eyes as he hovered his fork just under his chin. A stray scent of the purple glue they used in their shared second grade class flew past Richie’s nose as their eyes met. “What’s say you & me go on a little road-trip right after graduation? Like the minute it’s done?” 

“Little early to plan that. Just you and me? What about-?” 

“I’d love to go on a big Losers Club trip but I have this idea…for just the two of us, right? Could be cool.” He waved is fork around and it kept catching the orange light of the hanging lamp above them. 

“What kind of idea?” 

“Well…hold on to your seat, baby. This might be too big of a kicker.” Richie giggled but it was soaked with nerves. Eddie rolled his eyes and made an exaggerated play of holding onto the chair with a wide smirk. They giggled together. “I was thinking that you and I could drive up to Castle Rock-”

“Ahhh the spot of romance.” Eddie let go of his chair to take another bite of chicken. 

“There’s some cute tourist-y trap shops…” Richie started and he’d kinda been hoping for another interruption but Eddie just kept on looking at him. “But there’s also a cute little Chapel…?” 

There was a small clink as Eddie dropped his fork onto his plate. 

“Ed’s, baby. You’re…” He paused when his stomach turned painfully with nerves. He glanced down at the food. “You’re the guy I gotta be spending the rest of my life with. I can’t imagine a future without you in it and I think that’s reason enough to cut to the chase and get hitched sooner rather than later.“

Richie was expecting one of his partners famous ‘fast talking rambles’ but Eddie stayed silent and instead picked at the chicken on his rose colored plate. 

“I mean the backseat of my car is no honeymoon suite but I’m sure it’ll be nice to us, you know? After all, we’ll still be running on our Wedding High.” Richie laughed but it was oh so painful to get out when Eddie wasn’t even humoring him. “Sorry. Fuck. I don’t know what I was thinking. It was a stupid thing to pitch-”

“Let’s do it.” 

Richie hiccuped and choked on the forkful of food he’d just shoved in his mouth to keep quite. “What-?”

“I said, let’s do it asshole. I wanna marry you.” Eddie smiled, wide and genuine. Richie would never openly pursue this dream if it were anything but. He knew all of Eddie’s smiles and this one…oh it was his favorite. 

“Holy fuck.” Richie let out a long breath and giggled. “Shit, I-…Ed’s-” The boy couldn’t find the right words so he just shoved his way off his chair and rushed to his boy. 

Before Eddie could fully process it, Richie lifted him into his arms and he had to wrap his legs around his waist to keep balanced. “Everyone’s gonna say we’re idiots, you know?” Richie mumbled into his neck. 

“I don’t care.” Eddie decided. Because for once in his life, he was 100% sure that this was something he wanted. He’d fight for it with no problem if it meant keeping the Loser in his life forever. He’d fight for it just like he’d always fought for his friends. “We don’t have to tell anyone.”

Richie nodded. “Just between us. Our little secret.” 

They agreed to that knowing it would truly be a hard task. They told their fellow Losers everything and how could they not share something like this? Something so amazing? But they knew it had to stay a secret until the actual day was done. 

A laugh bubbled in his throat and a comment escaped his lips without flickering thought. “I’m so glad I met you, Richie.” 

“Me too.” Richie’s voice was a little too soft to not be emotional so Eddie kissed his hair. “If I call you tomorrow and ask…are we still gonna be engaged?”

Eddie pulled his chin back and nuzzled his nose into Richie’s curls. “We’re still gonna be engaged, Rich. All up until Gradation, like ya said.” He could feel the blush dusting his cheeks and the sense of pure joy was just too intoxicating. 

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

{December, Senior Year}

Richie and Eddie didn’t really bring up their engagement again until the fall leaves started turning to winter snow. 

Richie shut his front door behind him as he stepped outside, glancing down at his shoes as they walked down his broken concrete steps. He hopped down the last stair, the one with the chip that was just waiting to become an avalanche of rock. He pulled aimlessly at his jacket when he felt the sudden jolt of the wind being knocked out of him and legs wrapping around his waist. He didn’t need to look to know who it was.

"Ed’s, you can’t just jump on a guys back without warning.” Richie tried to glance up, as best he could as Eddie shifted around and looped his arms around his neck.

“As the shorter friend, I reserve the right to get piggy back rides whenever I want.” He heard Eddie laugh against his ear, his feet wiggling.

“Eddie, You’re such an asshole.” He shook his head and tried to hike his boyfriend up so he wouldn’t slip off. 

“Your point?” Eddie hummed. “So…you’re walking to my house, what for?” Eddie smiled and Richie rolled his eyes fondly.  

“To bother you…which by the way, where were you coming from?” Richie glanced his eyes up. Usually whenever Eddie left his home, one of the Losers was with him so he was more than curious.

“I was beating up Bill in the park.” He felt the boy shrug. -”And before you ask, he deserved it and he’s fine.” Eddie laughed again and Richie could see the incident now. Bill loved to mess with Eddie like he wasn’t aware what the little asshole was capable of. 

Bill would make his fun and let Eddie charge him for a round of play-fighting like a couple of brothers in the living room of their childhood home. Man, did it make Bill happy. He’d light up like a damn Christmas tree. They all knew why and they never mentioned it. Georgie had passed away some time ago, an out of the blue accident. Such a shitty world sometimes. 

“I was going to visit your mom, anyway-OW!” Richie felt Eddie pinch his neck. He chuckled. “Jealousy is not a flattering color for you.” 

Eddie hopped off his back and started to walk on Richie’s left side. It was a habit from their younger days that just never faded. Little Richie used to wander towards the street from the sidewalk because his strut was for some reason…a little tilted. Not so much anymore. But Eddie, Bill and Stan still planted themselves to his left like the memory was still taking place. Richie thank God that Ben, Mike and Bev didn’t have to remember how dumb he was back then…just how dumb he was now. He laughed to himself. 

“I was walking over to pick you up. Us Losers are taking a holiday trip to Mike’s place. I wanted to give you your gift before we see our favorite people.” Richie tapped his pocket and Eddie nodded. “Hey, now that I’m looking at your face…” Richie made a show of tilting his head and waving a hand in front of Eddie’s crinkled nose. He got his hand slapped away.

“You look a little glum, baby.” 

“That’s a stupid word-” 

“Melancholy? Sulky? Morose! You look a little morose, baby.” Richie pulled at Eddie’s arm and wasn’t pushed away this time so he rubbed up and down the boys jacket sleeve. 

“You look like a moron, baby.” Eddie mocked and Richie giggled. “Sorry, I’m pissy today.” 

“I got that, Ed’s. But why?” 

Richie got another light shove. “I couldn’t sleep last night. Felt like I couldn’t breath and…” Eddie tapped his own pocket where his inhaler was once again. “Shit, Rich. I know it’s all in my head but…that doesn’t stop me from re-creating that feeling whenever I get the slightest bit of anxiety about something.” 

Eddie sighed, sounding like a tired man some years their elder. “It scares the shit outta me that I just subconsciously do this to myself. How do you stop a thing like that?” 

“I don’t know.” Richie shrugged with an honest tone and wrapped an arm around his partner. “But, I know that you’ll get there. Maybe not today…maybe not tomorrow but soon, baby.” 

Eddie nodded but didn’t seem to believe him. Man, Richie really hated Sonia Kaspbrak for the shit she had pulled all throughout this poor kids childhood. “I got your back through and through, Eddie my love.” He shook him playfully and pulled back to get the small gift-box from his jacket pocket. 

Eddie stopped in front of him and sniffled cutely. “I feel bad. I should get your gift from my house before you-” 

“Nah, Eddie. I really wanna do this now.” Richie smiled and handed over a small box. It was wrapped in brown paper covered in mini-vintage Santa faces. There was an obnoxiously large ribbon atop it that he knew Eddie would keep for some odd reason. It was just one of those things he did.  

As he tore into the package, Richie nervously rolled his lips together.

Inside was a velvet box that when tilted open, allowed a small silvery band to come into view. It glittered in the winter air and Richie got down on his knobby knee like a true gentleman and smiled up at his man. “I thought I should get you a little ring for our engagement, you remember right?” He teased but surely meant the question at least a little bit. 

“Rich-” 

“My mom helped me. And don’t worry you’re pretty little head, I told her I was getting ya a promise ring.” He waved his hands a little. “So it’s not a true engagement ring, per se but-” 

“I love it.” Eddie slipped it on and slowly kneeled down to help Richie off the icy ground. “Get up and hug me, asshole.” 

Richie happily obliged. 

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

{May, Senior Year} 

From then on, Richie and Eddie kept on like normal but there was some kind of glowing secret between them. The Losers noticed something, as well they would because they knew their friends too well. But none of them could quite put a finger on what was so different between them. 

Eddie was perched on Richie’s desk in Honors Lit. witch was about the only class that every Losers Club member had together. It was the last normal day of school before Graduation Day so the Senior class was basically free to do whatever. 

Eddie was whispering things that Richie would seem to consider before writing down on his pad of paper in a list or something. Ben watched them with a curious smile but didn’t ask. 

“I say we all drive to Graduation together so we can drive up to the Haunted K-Mart in the town over afterwards.” Bev smiled from her seat. 

“Why t-t-there?” Bill asked. 

“This might be our last chance to catch a spirit there!” She gestured her hands like that might impress them. “And there’s a Steak ‘N Shake right across the street.”

“Ahhh, the real reason she makes such requests.” Richie snapped his fingers and Bev shrugged. 

“Any takers?” 

Richie and Eddie shared a private worried glance. They both knew now that if the group agreed to go with this plan, they’d say yes too. They loved their friends too much to avoid plans with them for a big secret wedding they didn’t even know about. Especially considering Graduation night was sorta a big deal for them because soon enough, they’d separate. 

It wasn’t so bad. Eddie, Richie and Bill were all headed to the University of Maine campus. Mike, Ben and Bev were all going to another 4-year just around twenty minutes away. But….Stan….he was shipping out to one in Vermont which was a cool, crisp…4 hour drive. 

But they still had a whole summer to look forward too. At least that was something.

“Sorry, I can’t. My dad and Grandpa have been planning a dinner celebration at home.” Mike smiled sweetly as he thought about it and gave Bev a small shrug. 

“Me t-t-too. My parents want me home.” Bill frowned and they weren’t too sure ol’ Bill was going to have such a great time. 

Beverly sighed and turned to Stan who gave her a soft no for just about the same reasons. 

“And count us out! Eddie and I will be feasting at the Tozier’s.” Richie slapped Eddie’s nervous hand and they both felt swept under the instant relief. 

“My mom would love to have you over for dinner, Bev. She’s been keen on it for sometime.” Ben smiled again and a soft blush took over his cheeks just the same as it did on Beverly’s when she accepted this offer. 

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

{May, Graduation Day}

“Eddie, don’t be alarmed but…there’s an old man sitting in the passenger seat of my car.” 

Richie narrowed his eyes and shook his head so the tassel on his cap would get out of his eyes. The sun was shining down onto the crisp green summer grass and had provided them comfortable Graduation weather all the day. 

The ceremony had been a mess of Losers Club tears and a solid thirty minutes spent afterwards just hanging out in the field in front of the building. They talked to each others families, hung-out and maybe he and Bev smoked a little. There was also the moment where Richie hugged Stan and proceeded to refuse to let go when he had to go with his parents. It took the Losers a good five minutes to get Richie off. Stan pretended he wasn’t having fun and saluted Richie with a middle finger and spun off to his parents car.  And soon after, all their best friends had gone off with their families. 

The Toziers came for the ceremony but allowed Richie and Eddie some extended time for a ‘date’. 

Eddie quirked his brow and crossed his arms. “No…are we sure that’s your car?” He saw the old man but it was still quite far from where they stood. Maybe it was just a similar-

“No, there’s the ‘Honk if you love Bruce Springsteen’ bumper sticker.” He pointed with his spindly finger and Eddie stepped back with confusion. 

There was in fact, an old man chilling in the passengers seat of their ‘Honeymoon Chariot’ as Richie had been calling it the past few hours. “Oh, Richie…maybe he’s just confused?” Eddie frowned, eyebrows knitting together in concern. With that, he started walking over to the vehicle. Richie hung back because he wasn’t very good at confrontation or conversation with older people. 

Eddie paused a bit in front of the passenger door and smiled. “Excuse me, sir?” 

The man was small, wrinkly and kind-looking. He had a baseball cap atop his surprisingly thick curly gray. “Oh…is there a problem? Should we not be parked here?” 

Richie stepped a little closer while Eddie dealt with the situation like a pro. 

“Oh no, nothing like that.” Eddie inched closer and gave the man his warmest smile as the sunshine cupped his face. “I think maybe you’ve confused this car with your own…?” He made a salute motion to block the harsh sunlight and to maybe to offer a warm look in his eyes that the old man could relate to. Eddie had this kind, sweet nature to him when he wasn’t truly thinking about it. It was a gift blessed onto Mike and Ben too, though Eddie’s wasn’t anywhere near the level of those two. 

“Oh…is this your-? I’m so sorry, my…I’m getting pretty forgetful, aren’t I?” The man made for the door and Eddie backed up and grabbed onto it when it opened to make sure there was no swing back. “It looks so much like my wife’s car.” He laughed, an old worn kind that Richie loved. 

“Understandable. Once, I was visiting my aunts place right? And I went out for a smoke. When I went back inside…” Richie chuckled, hand on his stomach “It was the wrong house. Boy, were those people freaked out to see this gangly teenager walk into their home flicking a lighter.” 

Richie enjoyed the familiar way Eddie smiled at him under the sunshine, he’d heard that story a few times himself. The older gentleman also seemed rightly amused. He took off his baseball cap and waved it as he laughed. 

“That sure kicks me out of lonesome town, huh?” He wiped under his eyes which Richie might’ve been ashamed to admit made him feel really good. Not many people laughed that hard at his shit. “Good to know I’m not the only guy making himself a fool, son.” 

Eddie happily grinned towards the man as he reached out to shake Richie’s hand. “So where’s the lucky gal who loves you, ol’ buddy?” 

The man lit up, smile widening. “Should be on her way to wherever the hell it was we parked. Had a few words left yet to say to our grand-boy.” He stood on his tip-toes to catch a peek of the crowd. 

“What’s say we walk you over? A car that looks like mine…should be easy to find, huh?” Richie tipped his chin to Eddie who nodded. So Richie offered his arm. 

“What’s your name, sir?” Eddie asked, strolling over to catch up. 

“Oliver…” He grinned. “The wife, she’s called Michelle…like that Beatles tune, I always say.” He chuckled. Richie and Eddie leaned a little forward to steal grins from each other. “She’s a real funny gal that kid.” 

“Gotta love the funny ones, huh?” Richie bumped him gently and Eddie shook his head, most likely pairing it with a roll of the ol’ eyes. “We sure can make it hard, sometimes.” He laughed again and Eddie carefully reached over to smack the back of his head. 

Oliver must have thought that was hysterical because he started joyfully laughing again. It warmed the boys hearts. “Sure can. Michelle…she does this little bit where she takes the quarters outta my ear…magic and all that.” Oliver rolled his eyes but not with annoyance but fond and genuine love. It was a look that Eddie knew oh so well. “Then she turns a whole bouquet of flowers out from her sleeve….” He paused. “No one else for me in the world except Michelle.” 

Richie felt himself blush at the mere thought of how he felt just the same about Eddie, who was walking peacefully in the grass with the tassel hanging over his eyes. 

“Oh! There’s the ol’ girl now.” Oliver let go of Richie’s arm and started to happily stroll over to the car that did look pretty similar to Richie’s. “Thank you, boys! Been too kind!” He waved and looked like he was far too excited to get back to his lady to stay any longer. 

The sky was gold and a breeze was passing through the remaining crowd of graduates. Red gowns blew in the wind and families huddled together for pictures. 

Richie leaned closer to his boyfriend. “Remember that old videotape we found in your room? The one from our dumb classroom Thanksgiving play?” 

Eddie blinked at the abrupt memory but nodded. That seemed like a million years ago yet didn’t feel very far from them at all. The years bled together these days but that had been the age where the town of Derry felt like the whole world (and what a shitty world). Eddie could still hear the sound of Bill’s father coming home at 6:00 in his head, plastered there from all their sleepovers. Richie turned to fully face Eddie and kicked his leg gently so he’d turn too. 

“I’ve been feeling for you, what he described with his wife since about then.” 

Eddie felt his heart melt. “Rich, we were like six or seven. There’s no way-” 

The man’s eyes were swelled with tears like a gutter full of rain which made Eddie stop in his tracks. Of course, Richie meant that sentiment. He was always so painfully genuine. “Please, kiss me and then drive me to our damn wedding. I’m so ready to be your husband.” 

Richie didn’t need to be told twice. 

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

{May, Castle Rock’s finest Chapel}

“At least if your face turns blue, we can check ‘something blue’ off the wedding list-” 

Eddie lowered his inhaler and smacked Richie playfully on the arm but soon pulled it back to wrap around his body. The summer breeze seemed somehow colder in Castle Rock. They had both paused on the steps of the Chapel, knowing they were feeling the empty spaces of their friends. They should be here but…they weren’t. Because at the time of planning, it seemed to be for the best. But they missed them.  

Richie glanced down at his boy. “You ok?”

Eddie clutched his inhaler once more for something like comfort and shoved it back into his pocket. “I’m peachy.” He smiled. 

The sun was near setting behind their heads and draped a rose colored light over their bodies. “We can back-out, you know? Just because we said we would, doesn’t mean we have to follow through on anything, Eds. If you want to go home just tell me.” He pulled him closer and laid his chin atop Eddie’s hair. 

Eddie pulled off of him, kissed his cheek and took his hand. 

They ran into the Chapel and lived a moment they’d hold close to their hearts forever. A private kind of memory. Just for the two of them to share. 

Some ways away in Derry, in a car that looked an awful lot like Richie’s, a radio played ‘Michelle’…

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

{June, Derry. A week later}

The young lovers had been planning to share their news since the big day last week but each time a chance was gifted to them…they both backed out. They were classic chickens. 

This night brought all the Losers together and stuffed them into Bill’s car, fresh from a fun little time drinking in his basement. They were all a little buzzed apart from Stan and Richie, who didn’t drink a sip. 

Eddie was practically vibrating in his seat yet his eyes kept drifting shut. He usually got sleepy in cars, Richie pulled him closer and asked for the radio to be turned up. 

It was getting late and they all seemed a bit restless. Beverly and Mike were having a hushed conversation about a deer they’d just seen on the side of the road and Ben mindlessly caressed Beverly’s hand. “Shit, I’ve been meaning to ask-” Bill started. 

“I went over to your house after my dinner on Graduation, Rich. Your parents said you and Eddie weren’t around-?” 

Richie glanced up at Bill’s eyes in the mirror and rolled his lips together. It wasn’t hard to just make shit up but he did not want to lie-

“Richie and I drove up to Castle Rock and got married.” Eddie mumbled, his voice in sing-song and his forehead pressed against the window. 

“WHAT!?” 

The whole car screamed and Bill accidentally hit the brake much harder than he intended to at the stop sign. The group all flew a bit forward from their seats and caused a chorus of restrained choking coughs when the seat-belts pulled. Richie tried to collect himself before Eddie but failed. 

“We’ve been engaged-” He hiccuped and pulled out the ring he’d been hiding in his pocket. “Since October.” 

Bill drove on, foot hitting the gas pedal with much more grace than before. The car fell silent until Beverly turned from the front seat…a most awful look of confusion on her face. “Eddie, tell me that Richie has just rubbed off on you and that’s a very weird joke.” 

Richie scowled. “It’s not a joke. We got married at the Chapel in Castle Rock just like he said.” 

Again, the car was full of tense silence apart from the sound of the wheels on the street. “Engaged….since October and you didn’t tell us?” Bill asked from the drivers seat, glancing at them in the mirror every once in a while. 

Eddie fell against Richie’s shoulder like he was about to drift off into sleep again so Richie slowly wrapped his arm around him and ran his hands through his hair when he began to speak. “We thought you guys would talk us out of it-”

“Rightly so.” Stan spoke up and Richie snapped his head over to look at him. “Engaged? Married? You guys are eighteen years old.” He shook his head. “And before you go for a low blow, you know everyone in this car agrees that you two are meant to be together but…” Stan paused to find his wording but Richie wanted to jump down his throat. 

“But what exactly?” He covered Eddie’s ears accidentally on purpose when he shifted but he figured the boy needed some sleep. 

“Jumping into marriage that young is not going to work out. It could very well hurt you two.” Stan’s voice lowered into soft concern but Richie was heated up. 

“And you got married.” Beverly turned in her seat again, this time with a nervous cigarette in her hand. “Without us.” 

Richie’s stomach turned as a fresh wave of horrible guilt hit him. He really had nothing to respond to that with so he shrank back into his seat. The radio blanketed the riders with a loud distraction. 

‘Heard it from a friend who Heard it from a friend who Heard it from another you been messin’ around…’

“All I’m trying to say here, Rich, is that getting married that early on can cause strain on a relationship.” Stan looked down at his hands but it only steamed Richie back up once again. 

“You don’t know that, Stanley. You said it yourself, Eddie and I are supposed to be together-” 

“Fate doesn’t matter if you make a bad decision, Richie. It’s only plain logic. You two barely know what you’re going to be doing in the very near future! Eddie, you told me back in September that you weren’t even sure you wanted to go to the University of Maine. What happened there? Any of that get resolved before this wedding?” Stan reached out his hand to gesture to Eddie but the boy was looking much paler and more and more like he might break into a sweat. Mike kept a close eye on the kid while the others kept with their noise and the radio grew more intense. 

Richie glanced at Eddie and frowned. “You don’t know shit about our relationship-” 

Stan looked offended. “Shit, Richie, everyone in this car knows your relationship almost as well as the parties involved.” He flicked his fingers at the happy couple. “You know that. The Losers, man. We’re in this life together, asshole.” He narrowed his eyes. “I’m trying to help you. I don’t wanna see you-” 

“Too late, Stan! We’re already married.” Richie laughed, full of pain. 

“And happily too, it sounds.” Stan rolled his eyes.

“Hey Fuckhead! We were happy before we told you-!”

“You didn’t even tell us, your best friends, until after the fact. PLUS, Eddie only broke it out cause he’s drunk!” Bill suddenly piped up from the front seat. The screaming match suddenly involved everyone in the car. Though Mike and Ben were trying more so to calm everyone than yelling. 

Eddie felt his chest pounding with anxiety, the familiar sensation of a lack of air built up. “Stop the car.” He mumbled, covering his mouth. No one seemed to hear. “Stop the car!” He tried once more with a hiccup of leftover alcohol bubbling from his throat. 

Mike glanced over and finally, someone noticed. 

“Stop the car! I’m going to throw the fuck up!” Eddie screamed at the same time that Mike shouted a strong ‘STOP THE CAR!’

Bill hit the brakes extremely hard again though the yelling continued even as Eddie opened the car door and hopped onto the curb. He kneeled over himself, palms pressed onto his knees as he dry-heaved. He glanced back into the car at all his friends screaming and bit into his lip…

The sound of loud feet hitting the pavement broke the screaming. The Losers all looked up just in time to see Eddie quite literally take off like a rocket. Richie could almost hear the gun blast signaling a race because the kid was sprinting faster than a speeding bullet. “Holy shit.” Beverly tried to open her car door. 

The six of them all hopped out once Bill actually parked on the curb and started off after him. But the thing about Eddie was…he was fucking fast. Richie had a lot of energy but was no sport champion. He so desperately tried to push himself that he almost felt fire coming off his feet. 

Mike seemed to be the one outta the group to get the closest but he turned the corner and skidded to a stop. It was so sudden that they almost all crashed together. “He’s gone.” Mike sighed, hand to his forehead. 

They all started attempting to catch their breath, hands either over their chests or pressed to their knees like Eddie’s had been. 

Richie stumbled and landed his ass on the middle of the street. “Fuck.” he spoke to the sky in his horrible exhaust. A hand hovered above him which turned out to be Stan’s. There was a bit of hesitance but Richie accepted the help up. “Let’s split up. Cover more ground. Our Ed’s is a speedy Bastard.” 

Beverly played with her hands which meant she was either nervous or scared. Maybe both. But she nodded like this was the most import mission in her life. 

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

Ben happened across Eddie first. His friend was sitting on a bench in front of the Gazebo in the park. Ben’s heart melted at the sight of the poor, tired and drunk kid. 

“Hey, Eddie.” Ben gently approached like he was a skittish dog or something but Eddie didn’t seem to mind. He just scooted over to make some room on the tiny bench. “I know things got…pretty intense in the car-” 

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Yeah. I shouldn’t have opened my mouth. I just…-yeah, I’m buzzed but I’m excited, Ben. So fucking excited about this and I just wanted to tell you guys.” He sniffled and Ben scooted closer. “We really didn’t mean to be such shitty friends. You guys always want whats best for us…so we knew you’d try to talk us out of it.” Eddie glanced up with wide, innocent eyes. Ben opened his mouth. 

“So yeah, I admit that we knew it was kind of a dumb enough idea because we made that decision to keep it from you. We had to be aware enough to do that.” Eddie shrugged, his jacket now pooling at his elbows. He wasn’t completely sure that he was making any sense. “But it made us really happy, Ben. I love him…so much.” 

Ben threw his arm around Eddie and sighed. “I know, Eddie. Trust me on that word. I do.” He rubbed his arm slowly and felt Eddie nod. 

“And I feel his love for me every fucking day. Richie loves with his whole being, Ben.” Eddie giggled like the thought of it was enough to send him into a blush. “No one is gonna be in love with me the way that he is. So what’s the point in waiting?”

Ben went quiet because the sentiment was so genuinely lovely that it became hard for him to argue…

The two of them sat on the park bench, not knowing how to move on from the moment. 

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

{October, Freshman Year of College} 

There was nothing even close to a falling out between the Losers Club after that horrible night. That was just the kind of magic that came with their relationship. Far too much love to ever let them drift away. Though besides the screaming, the other thing to be forgotten after that night was Stan’s statement about Eddie confessing he might’ve been unsure about the University of Maine…

Tension rose on occasion but the happy couple seemed satisfied enough. The Losers were happy, as long as they were. 

The Toziers were still not aware that their son had gotten hitched but Richie intended to tell them after completing at least one year of school. Sonia Kaspbrak….well she tried so desperately to keep Eddie right at home and to dig into his personal life. Eddie wanted nothing to do with that. So she also had no clue, Eddie would be lying if he didn’t say it was empowering. 

The beginning of the school year had been extremely hard because Stan was ‘leaving’ them but 4-hours felt like forever. There’d been a lot of crying and hugs to go around when it came time for him to leave and boy did he wait until the last possible minute to go. 

Richie basically cried his eyes out. Stan took him aside for a few minutes just to reassure him that this made no difference. The seven of them were forever tied together. He even gave him a nice framed photo of the whole group for the dorm Richie and Eddie had applied for together. “Call it a late engagement gift.” He added with a crinkle of his eyes, reminding Richie of an old man. Though there was a still a bit of tension on that subject, he knew Stan might still believe the marriage to have been a bad idea. Richie gladly accepted it anyway because it was a gift filled with genuine love. 

They were all a good month or so into their Freshman years and already developed their routines. 

And at the University of Maine, Richie and Eddie had already become something of a cool topic. Mr. and Mr. Tozier. The married couple in dorm 24. They would be lying if they didn’t say they enjoyed the attention. They were a couple of losers after all. 

“What does he have that I don’t?” Eddie frowned and pushed at Richie’s shoulders. 

“Don’t be jealous, baby.” Richie turned back and smirked. “It’s not a flattering color.” He giggled when Eddie tackled him on the bed, the one to the left of them was almost never used. The Bruce Springsteen poster Richie had been admiring watched over them as they fell into a make-out session.

The sloppier kisser between them pulled back and licked grotesquely up from the base of Eddie’s neck to his ear. From the new spot, Richie began whispering which he knew drove Eddie mad because it was a ticklish feeling. 

“I got a bad desire. Oh-oh-oh, I’m on fire…” Richie mumbled and Eddie tried to kick him off the bed. 

“Don’t sing me the lyrics of the man you’re cheating on me with! You cruel, cruel idiot!” Eddie giggled with insane love and new switched to trying to knee him in the stomach. Finally, Richie rolled off the bed and onto the floor with a loud thud. 

“Oh, you are so juvenile, Eddie my dear.” Richie stayed there on the floor with a smirk. 

“Me? You licked my ear, which is disgusting, and tried to serenade me with Springsteen.” Eddie fell comfortably on the bed, chin just on the edge so that he could look down at his…husband. Which was still odd to hear when it came rolling off their tongues. 

They shared fond looks and Eddie turned to lay back on the bed but let his arm hang over the side so Richie could play with his fingers. “By the way-” Eddie turned his head though he was way above his partner. “Did you fill the gas tank in our car after class last night?” 

Richie sighed. “Our car? I’ll have you know that ‘James Taylor’ has been mine since I was sixteen, Eds.” The smirk was present in his tone and Eddie rolled his eyes. 

“Whatever, did you fill it or what? It was really low and I need it for my Physics class this afternoon.” Eddie felt Richie pause from petting his palm. 

“No, I forgot. Can’t you fill it before class?” Richie pleaded and Eddie ripped his hand away in annoyance. 

“Oh so I can’t call it ‘our’ car but I get to pay for the gas almost every time it needs to be filled. Just cause you don’t like getting out of the damn car because ‘it ruins the mood of your drives.’” Eddie scowled. 

Richie sat up and scooted so that his back would lean against the bedside drawer. “You’re borrowing my car, Eds. It’s only fair for you to fill it when you run the gas.” He shrugged and watched as Eddie hopped off the bed and started getting his things together for his class even though he had plenty of time. 

“You’re parents are the ones who bought it for you. And now I’m paying for gas nearly every-time…so what, pray tell, makes it so wrong for me to refer to ‘James Taylor’-” He paused to roll his eyes “As ours?” 

Richie looked up with a bit of a heated expression and sighed with frustration. 

“Look Rich, if it bothers you so much, I can try and save up for my own car. I wasn’t lucky enough to get one when we were younger cause…well, you know my mother.” Eddie shuddered and threw his bag aside. “She’d never give me a gift that would only be a gateway for my moving on.” He scowled, completely irritated at her yet feeling guilty as she was not there to defend herself. Richie knew that look all too well and tried to convince his husband that it was ok for it to blossom. It was more than ok to be mad at Sonia. But…how do you make someone understand that their mother deserves hatred? Because no matter what, a mother is a mother in the mind of young Eddie. There would always be a shred of Eddie that would try to defend her because of that ‘A mother & her boy’ complex she had pounded in him. 

The air in the room seemed to lose some of the tension and Richie took that as a good sign as he heaved his body off the floor. “No, I’m sorry. You’re right. ‘James Taylor’ is ours.” Richie sat on the other bed and took Eddie’s smaller hand in his own, pulled it with soft shyness and his husband leaned down so he could press a kiss to his temple. “We’re on for dinner right?” 

Eddie nodded and rubbed the pad of his finger into the corner of his eye. “Yeah. We can probably splurge on that cool Shawarma place you like so much tonight, if you’d like?” 

Richie lit up at that possibility and smiled. “Sounds peachy, Eddie my love.” He reached up to steal a quick kiss and twirled off the bed to see his love out the door if he was going to leave so early. 

Richie didn’t have any classes today and thought he’d enjoy such a treasure by calling up Mike because he missed his voice even though they weren’t even that far away. Though, Richie hadn’t seen much of anyone in a while. He and Eddie spent much of their free time trying to get their schedules aligned and making sure they had dinner together in the spots between work and school. The pair of husbands hadn’t had much in the company department apart from…well, each other. 

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

{December, Freshman Year of College}

Bill tightened his grip around Eddie’s body and attempted to tackle him into the snow but the little demon managed to turn the tables and get the advantage on him. He did not let him fall onto the cold snow but was trying to make sure Bill knew who had one this little play-fight. “Alright, I g-g-give!” He chuckled and Eddie backed off with a skip in his step. 

“Ben and Bev s-seemed to have found their ideal apartment!-” 

“So I’ve heard.” Eddie smiled and wiggled his cold toes in his shoes. “I talked to Ben on the phone for like two hours last night. Told me all about their plan.” He rolled his lips together and felt the bit of winter at the tips of his ears. “They got their apartment to dwell in for the next three years-”

“And than off to Chicago after graduation!” Bill chuckled, so excited for their best friends. 

Eddie nodded but fell silent as they stepped into the same pace, walking through campus without a true destination. “How’s the search goin’ for you two?” Bill asked the question he’d been dreading to answer.

“Mmmm-” Eddie hummed and looked off to the side. “It’s going, alright. we’d like to have something to move into by the start of Sophomore year cause the dorm is way too tight. But it’s gotta be in our price range…” Eddie shrugged. The two of them had been doing fairly ok for a couple of college kids. He’d been balancing school and his job at the shop in town. But Richie-

“Man, I’m so fucking proud of Richie, Bill.” Eddie giggled happily at the thought as Bill threaded their arms together so neither of them slipped on any ice. “He’s somehow balancing classes, his job down at the restaurant and he’s doing the radio shows here…” Eddie glanced up at the school. 

Bill shook their grip a little and his smile could’ve blinded. “I’m s-s-so happy for you two. Things seem t-t-to be going pretty smoothly.” 

Eddie nodded, mind going back to the night he and Richie lingered in the radio broadcasting room after his show. It’d been snowing extremely hard that night and neither one of them had been eager to run on back to ‘James Taylor’ when the weather would surely bite and they’d have to wait forever for the car to warm itself up. So they stalled for as long as they could. 

He blushed at the memory. 

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

{May, just before Sophomore Year of College}

The apartment hunt worked it’s magic and the happy couple had been to find themselves a warm building. It was fairly cheap so it wasn’t what one would call paradise but it was miles better then their tiny dorm room. 

Their first year of school had passed them by and gifted them a better perspective on their wants & needs, whether they voiced them to each other was a whole separate issue. They moved in towards the end of June and Eddie had been prescribed his anxiety medication a short four days later. 

Richie had noticed his husbands anxiety starting to come up on a rise the past few months. Eddie got sick quite a bit more often and seemed to hopelessly latch onto it. Making himself believe it’s still plaguing him when it’s more or less been gone. There’d been an incident some weeks ago where his husband got to his tipping point. He’d stayed up all night feeling phantom nausea because of a simple test. It’d never been so bad for him before. 

So Richie held his hand through and through, making an appointment with the doctor who talked with his husband for a long while. And Eddie left with a piece of paper telling him a low-dose of medication to try out would be waiting for him at their local Walgreens. 

“I miss the ol’ gang, we need to get everyone together soon.” Richie sighed and poured Eddie some of the red wine he liked so much, which in moderation was good for the heart, he’d always say. The shorter man took his glass and cuddled up against Richie’s chest and nodded. 

They were preparing for a nice and calm movie night even though they should’ve been spending their time unpacking. The boxes were taking up a lot of floor space but with the messes that they could be sometimes, they didn’t really mind. 

Two paintings from Sears, three from the local thrift store, a funky chair from Ben’s childhood-home basement and a plaid couch from Bill’s were some of their new ‘purchases’. But the apartment was already starting to feel like home, as long as they had each other anyway. 

“Stan passed that exam he was so worried about, I damn well told him that would happen.” Richie chuckled into his own glass and fogged it up while the TV menu appeared. 

“We all told him.” Eddie teasingly tipped Richie’s glass with the tip of his finger when he went for another sip. This was rewarded with a sloppy, wet red-wine kiss being pressed against his cheek. Eddie giggled and tried to shove his husband off. “I love you so much, asshole. You know that?” 

Richie blushed like a lovesick kid and rubbed his nose into Eddie’s hair as he shook his head. “Not as much as I love you.” He spoke genuinely that Eddie felt that familiar melting sensation. So he reached his hand back to pet the man’s cheek and feel his heat. 

“I don’t want to fight on our wedding anniversary but you’re wrong. I love you so much more-!” Eddie was interrupted by Richie shoving his tongue into his ear and his gasp of disgust mixed with laughter he couldn’t help. 

The idiots began shoving and tickling each other without a care in the world, balancing their wine glasses because they were too focused to put them back on the table. They’d just have to risk spilling. 

They might not have been rolling in the money but they had this. And that was all that mattered. It reminded Richie of a song, so he started mumbling the words into the crook of his love’s neck. 

“-And even though we ain’t got money I’m so in love with you honey And everything will bring a chain of love And in the mornin’ when I rise Bring a tear of joy to my eyes And tell me everything is gonna be alright…”

Eddie couldn’t help but sing along with him, eyes glazed over with admiration and true, fine love. 

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

{July , Sophomore Year of College}

The sun was always very fond of Richie, at least Eddie always thought so. The light was consistently complimentary to the man and had this way of making him look like the picture of the sunny 70′s.

“What are you doing?” Richie squinted as he walked briskly to the front of the apartment building where Eddie was sat, hands shoved in his pockets. He’d been gone for a while now and the pair may or may not have left on bad terms…fresh from an argument about something stupid. 

“I went out after you left….-” He pointed his thumb at the door behind him. “Got locked out.”

Richie rolled his eyes fondly and got his own key from his pocket as Eddie stood and followed behind him. “Where’s your key? And where did you go?”

The man behind him went quiet again in that eerie way could really freak Richie out sometimes. “Forgot it here. And I um…-I went to Marty’s.” He shrugged like it was no big deal but he knew for certain that it was an explosion waiting to happen. Richie looked at him with fury as they got to his door.

“You went to the bar to look for me?” He glared and it felt as if Eddie’s stomach was suddenly tied in a huge knot.

“You can’t blame me!” He went straight into defense and followed the guy into their lonesome apartment. The air grew with tension as his partner chose not to speak and instead went about the place doing small clean-ups. This only made Eddie feel even more angry. “You honestly can’t blame me. You’ve been known to go there a lot, Rich.”

“I’m not some sorry man that you need to look out for, Ed’s. I know I can…drink a bit more than planned but…” He suddenly turned from his position at the sink. “I don’t just go out drinking because we had a fight. The place had an opening for it’s open mic night and I thought I might try to get a spot for my comedy, you know?” He threw down a dish-towel and Eddie swallowed a lump in his throat.

“I feel like the asshole of the year” He ran his hand through his hair and sat down on the couch, hoping that the ‘fight’ would ease up. “I just thought…you were so upset when you left and it reminded me of the night I had to pick you up-” 

“I’m sorry about that, Eddie. I…-losing the restaurant job got me all wigged out. I know that’s no excuse to drink myself sick but…it wasn’t that often and that shit is over now.” Richie grabbed Eddie’s hands and kissed him softly. 

“This is not a good period for us, Richie.” Eddie got the hint that the fight had basically run it’s course and they sat down on their couch.

Richie opened and closed his mouth, deciding to just tilt his head back and sigh. There was nothing more for them to say. So they just allowed themselves to enjoy being with the one they loved.

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

{September, Sophomore Year of College}

Richie felt a growing pain in his head. It flared every few minutes and he could almost smell the scent of something burning each time it hit him. The quick intensity was becoming harder and harder to ignore considering Eddie pitter-patting the length of their kitchen. There would be a few minutes of soothing silence and he’d think he was safe…just the distant and quiet hum of the television-*Slam* another clatter from the cold cracking dishes. His ache would start from the base of his back, travel up his spine in the form of a chill and then burst into his temples.

“What are you doing in there?” Richie finally broke their record-breaking twenty minute silence. It had been strange and he was glad the opportunity to speak came up. He turned and due to the small space, he could stare right at the other man in the dining-kitchen area.

“The dishes. Y’know. You eat off of them, I clean them. Ever heard of it?” Eddie remarked with snark. That would have usually launched them into a round of their usual playful bickering but for some odd reason, maybe the headache, it just irritated Richie to hear it.

“I do my part around here.” He scowled and spoke harshly, rolling his eyes. Turning back a little away from.

They’d made it through another week and were back at the beginning of another weekend, magically. Richie and Eddie had attempted many times in the past week or so to plan some kind of exciting date night. But the more time went on, they just seemed to forget or become far too busy. It was agonizing and isolating. Sure they had each other but it just wasn’t…fully satisfying?

Richie felt his lunch launch back up his throat, he harshly swallowed it and let himself feel sick to his stomach. And suddenly, he had a burning question in the back of his mind. It had lingered there for the past few nights but he’d been too…well himself to ask it. But it suddenly pained him not to. He turned again, leaning his arm on the back of the couch. “You’re not…mad at me, are you?” He played with his fingers.

Eddie looked up with a confused expression. “Your tone was hardly nice but I’m not mad-”

“No, not because of that, Spaghetti man.” Richie couldn’t help but grin a little. Eddie smiled right back and it was a nice moment. He bathed in it for a few minutes before deciding to explain himself. “I know I’ve been a piece of work lately…”

Neither had spoken that to light but it may have been true. Richie being fired from the restaurant job he loved which had been a whole event had cause some issues. The need for a job search was sudden and a little difficult. And he may have been a little on edge lately waiting for the bar with the open mic night opening to call him back. But Eddie knew the strain was only because Richie was concerned for their life together. In fact, Eddie was more disappointed that Richie couldn’t focus on the radio show at school that he loved so much.

Eddie thought about making another joke but decided against. Rather, he put his dishes to the side and strolled over and slowly sat beside his boy. Instinctively, he reached over to brush his hair back and lingered his hand there.

“And I don’t admit to that…like ever. So, take it while you can.” Richie stole a joke and laughed lightly. But both of them knew he was not too happy and both of them were worried.

“It’s not comforting when you talk like you despise yourself, y’know?” Eddie blinked. That comment hadn’t been one of Richie’s worst in the last week but it sure wasn’t warm. It was hard to ignore the man’s self-deprecating attitude as of late. And Eddie would never want to just ignore it. In all honesty, it was deeply unsettling but not uncommon to hear the other man talk like that.

As long as he’d known him, Richie put on a front that he was some confident, funny man entertainer. It was so smooth and effortless that it was entirely convincing. Hearing him crack jokes and smirk at his own reckless and daring behavior gave the illusion that it wasn’t stemming from insecurity. Eddie quickly saw through the facade after truly getting to know Richie. 

“I’m sorry, Eds.” 

“Don’t apologize, Rich.” Eddie kissed the top of his head and then trailed down to his temple. Not for the first time, Eddie felt a rush of guilt. Part of him felt responsible for the fact that Richie was stuck at the University of Maine instead somewhere like…California. Maybe if he hadn’t just pushed away that conversation with Stan all that time ago. Maybe if he’d voiced his confusion back then…

“I don’t know what I’d do without you.” Richie sighed into Eddie’s grip. 

“Me too, Rich.” Eddie hugged him as tight as he could and dreaded the moment he’d have to let him go.

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

{November, Sophomore Year of College}

Party streamers were burrowed into the carpeting of the apartment, pounded there from all the dancing. From the neat little window where the tiny balcony sat, the low-hanging sun scattered the room in gold flecks of light. The trees were changing for the upcoming season, Richie’s favorite holiday coming with it. The town was soon to be rid of the deep reds and beautiful oranges. Eddie had a fleeting moment of joy when he thought about the smiles Richie would soon get when observing the scenery. It lasted for a second or two.

The Losers Club had been fully reunited for the best Birthday Party one could imagine. Richie had spent ages organizing everyone’s return for Eddie’s special day. Stanley Uris had got past his 4-hour drive with a smile on his face because seeing all his best friends worth it. 

But now came the end of the night, where the decorations hung with a lonesome kind of drowsiness. The apartment had once been tuned to an exciting F.M. but when the last guest left, the dial turned to the A.M. radio. Not literally, but that’s just how Richie felt about it…hard to explain the shit his mind compared things to. 

It reminded him of the Christmas parties hosted by his aunt that he’d been taken to as a little tot. The holly-jolly music carried all the guests and filled them with their take of Holiday joy. But on the way home, Richie would be long tired and ready to sleep. As he would dowse, his parents played the A.M. stations. It signaled to him the end of fun and that was the energy in their apartment now. 

Eddie started whistling a tune as he dug through their bin of CD’s, eyes never leaving his partners which only made Richie hide his blush behind the large wine glass he’d stolen. 

‘You know I can’t smile without you I can’t smile without you I can’t laugh and I can’t sing I’m finding it hard to do anything…’

Richie faked like he was tired of this song but truly he was on cloud 9. “My lovely Ed’s loves his Barry Manilow.” He smirked and held out his hand so the exhausted love of his life could dance with him. “And please, don’t give me the excuse that it’s only cause it’s what you grew up listening to. You love him, Eds.” 

Eddie pursed his lips and shrugged, accepting Richie’s hand and twirling himself to Richie’s chest. “This song reminds me of you…” He hummed when Richie ran his hand down his cheek. The dying evening sun cascaded in through the window and bathed their bodies in bittersweet tangerine light. They swirled about their living area carpet in the vacuum of dry and unforgiving air because their heater was on the fritz. 

“You requested off work for Christmas, right?” Richie asked and Eddie sighed.

“No, sorry. I forgot.” He spun under Richie’s arm and allowed himself to be pulled right back. Richie softly slapped his shoulder and nodded. They were due back to the Tozier’s household soon. After Richie had told them about that runaway wedding and teen engagement…they’d been fairly pissed. But things were better now. 

“S’fine, baby.” Richie mumbled into his hair as they swayed together.

“Richie?” Eddie sucked in some air and thought it to be a now or never kind of situation. His man looked down at him with wide, loving eyes and gave Eddie hope that everything would work out. They stayed dancing. “Do you remember the night we all fought in the car after we told everyone we got married…when I ran off?”

Richie nodded, opening his mouth. 

“-Remember when Stan said something about my being confused about wanting to go to the University of Maine?” 

“Yeah….why-ummm, why are we bringing this up now?” Richie pulled back a little but they kept swaying as the song went on and on. “Has something changed?” 

Eddie bit hard into his lip. “I’ve been thinking about us lately.” 

Richie was especially good at making himself look smaller. Sometimes, when Eddie looked at him it was hard not to just take the man into his arms. When Richie was upset, he felt it deep within himself just the same. One of the worst parts of this whole mess was having to witness such emotions from the man he loved. Richie was leaning with his back against the couch to better feel the warmth from the sun-spot coming through the window and it was a breathtaking image. Golden sun-rays threaded through his hair and glazed his entire body and there was a peace there that was soothing. As he admired all that it was and all that he would miss, it occurred to him that maybe the man needed to actually hear some of that love that was on his mind.“Richie?”

The man dropped their hands and nodded. “Sorry, sorry. What have you been thinking about, Eddie?” 

Eddie swung his arms around nervously and sighed. “Sometimes I wonder if our friends were right…about our marriage.” 

Richie felt his heart completely shatter. “Eddie, I-”

“Wait, just hear me out.” Eddie held up his hand to gently pause the man he loved so, so much. “I am so in love with you, Richie. I love being your husband.” He saw a quick picture of the face that old man, Oliver, had made when talking about his wife all that time ago. “It’s just…I think our relationship and later…our marriage kept you from going to California like you always wanted to.” 

“Eddie, that’s ridiculous-”

“Is it though? The reason you applied University of Maine was because you wanted to be with me. The reason you ended up actually going was a commitment to our marriage…” Eddie sniffled back some tears and tried not to drown in the guilt. “And the reason I applied was because….I was scared to be far from my mom, not because I wanted to go.” 

Eddie admitted that to his shoes and let out a horrible sob. Richie came over to pull the boy into his arms. “Hey, hey, hey…Shhhh, Ed’s. Take a breath.” He ran his hands through the boys hair and they went quiet so Eddie could collect himself. And when he did, Richie stepped back again. 

“I love you but I feel like our marriage is holding us back, baby.” Eddie cringed when Richie let out his own sob. “I’m so so so scared that I’m gonna need someone to take care of me for my whole life…” Eddie went on and Richie tried very hard to listen. “I’m such a dependent person sometimes and…I-I don’t think jumping from a dependent relationship with my mother to a committed marriage was a great thing for me…no matter how much I love you.” 

Richie’s heart shattered. “Eddie…but I’m not like your mother. I’m not gonna smother you or-” 

“I know that.” Eddie frowned. “Damn sure of that. But the problem is me, Richie.” He shook his head and sort of hated himself. “This situation that my mother created for me has made me too comfortable with always having someone take care of me. I let it fucking happen because I’ve been forced to be dependent my whole childhood…my whole life.” 

“And I don’t wanna live like that.” Eddie broke into a full sub and fell to his knees on the carpet, smashing more dead party streamers. Richie fell down in front of him and hopelessly pulled him in for a hug. 

“Eddie…-”

“I don’t wanna hold you back anymore, Richie. And I gotta…” He hiccuped into Richie’s chest. “I have to get some perspective on life and shit. Be independent for once in my damn life.” 

“Eddie, why didn’t you talk to me-?” 

“I didn’t really realize this shit until a few days ago, Richie. And I was scared you’d think it was because I didn’t love you. Which is Bullshit. I love you more than anything. You’re the one I’m supposed to be with just…not like this. Not in this situation, right now.” Eddie pulled back, a little bit more relaxed and grabbed Richie’s hands. “So I think I should go. We should take a break. I don’t know for how long-” 

“Eddie. We can work this out.” He pathetically begged and tugged his husband’s arms. 

“We can.” Eddie agreed. “Just by ourselves first. Separated.” 

Richie hiccuped himself and shook his head. “No, Eddie. We need to be together..I-.” He frowned. “If you walk out that door, that’s it. Not a break. We’ll be broken up. That’s it.” Richie stood up and looked down at the love of his life hoping to anything that would listen that Eddie might change his mind because of his juvenile threat. 

Eddie looked up with wide, watery eyes. “This is something I have to do, Richie. Something you have to do too. I want the best life for you so if you’re gonna damn threaten me than I’ll have to take it. If being broken up means that you’ll get the life you deserve, well that’s the path we’ll take.” Eddie hopped up and ran to the bedroom, starting to get his shit together in a suitcase. 

Richie felt the wind get knocked out of him as he chased Eddie around the apartment, slowly falling apart with everything he threw in the suitcase. “Eddie. Please slow down. Stop-” 

“I’m going to Bill’s.” Eddie made it to the front door with a suitcase full of random clothes that he hoped would get him through at least a week. He hovered his hand on the doorknob. 

“I mean it, Eddie. You leave and that’s it.” Richie sobbed. Eddie looked at him with all the love in his soul….

He turned the knob and left Richie to crumble onto his carpet and cry his eyes out. 

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

{A week later….}

The night was a trying one for Richie. The apartment was practically dead apart from the terribly busy sounding quick taps of a keyboard. And though he was the one making that sound, it didn’t stop it from slowly driving him insane. His stomach turned from the mixture of anger and nerves that were boiling inside. So instead of slamming his head into his palms and letting out the emotions, he composed himself. He sat straight and tall, threading his slim fingers together. He copycatted those relaxing breaths Mike had once taught him. 

He was attempting to get some homework done and treated himself to glass of chocolate milk like he was a child. Just as the last drop splashed in the glass, his phone began ringing. 

“Eddie’s coming over there in like twenty minutes.” Bill’s cool voice spoke from over the phone and Richie’s hopes climbed so high. “Don’t get t-t-too excited. He just wants to p-pick up some more clothes and his medication.” 

Richie nodded and sighed. By now, the news must have traveled to every member of The Losers Club and for once in his life, Richie was glad Stan was far away. He couldn’t face him knowing his best friend had been right the entire time and he had to learn it the hard way instead of hearing him out all that time ago. He’d rather be in his father’s dentist chair than face Stan anytime soon. 

“You ok, Rich?” 

Richie shrugged even though Bill couldn’t see. “Try absolutely heart-broken, Billiam.” 

Bill’s end went quiet until he let out a sigh. “I know this is hard on you guys but Richie, try to understand that this is really i-i-important to Eddie.” Bill echoed Eddie’s sentiment and Richie felt a tear try to escape. He was right. He’d been as jerk to refuse the break Eddie had offered. Living independently seemed like something that meant a lot to his…-to Eddie. 

He hated to admit it but he waited around for Eddie pathetically for the whole twenty-five minutes it took for him to arrive. What really put the nail in the coffin was the fact that Eddie buzzed. As permission to enter the apartment building they were supposed to be living in together. He insisted that Eddie not knock once upstairs, just walk in the damn room.

The front door closed alarmingly soft but Richie picked it up nonetheless and his head snapped up. The sight he took in was to be expected but still extremely painful no matter what. Eddie seemed unable to let go of the doorknob, eyes watered to the point of boiling over. He slowly raised himself off the couch and made his way over. He gently reached out and unclasped Eddie’s hand for him which shocked the smaller man. “Let’s talk? Before you go.” He soothed. He then guided him inside.

The pair made themselves comfortable at the kitchen counter and stood their in silence for a few seconds. Eddie’s eyes dragged over the homework scattered around and couldn’t help but smile at the glass of Chocolate milk. It made Richie blush. 

“I just want to say that I’m sorry for being such an ass.” Richie swallowed under Eddie’s watchful, wide and watery eyes. “You…you were trying to be honest with me and I-….” 

Eddie shook his head. “You don’t have to apologize. I sprung this all on you and just expected you to….-Well, I don’t really know what I expected.” His shrug rolled flawlessly off his shoulders and they both let out a long sigh. 

“Ed’s, I don’t want our life together to start out like this-” Richie gestured between them, thinking of the strain lingering there for some time now. “So if this is what you want…-Something we need then it has to happen.” 

Eddie licked his lips and looked away briefly. “You should get out of Maine, Rich. You belong somewhere…big in personality.” He chuckled a little. 

“Correct you are, Eddie my boy-” Richie habitually grinned before letting it fall off his face. “This place…this school-” He gestured to the homework “They’re not where I should be…where we should be.” 

Richie and Eddie’s eyes met once more but both seemed far too nervous to keep the contact. Both opting to stare off somewhere else. “I was selfish to ask this to be a break-to ask you to wait for me…”

Richie stood up straighter and frowned. “Ed’s no-…I was stupid for threatening a breakup…”

The two of them stared each other down again, both barely holding it together. It was pathetic really-the two of them standing in the crappy kitchen with tears just streaming down their faces. “I want you to live, Rich. That good, fast life that’s meant for you. I don’t want you to be waiting for me-”

Richie remembered some Billy Joel song, it played far off in his head. ‘You’re only standing there 'cause somebody once did somebody wrong. But you’ll be sleeping with the television on…’

“I don’t know what to say…for the first time in my life, huh?” Richie pathetically giggled but choked it down when Eddie grew even more concerned. “So, we thinking a divorce…or…?” Richie tried to be falsely cheer but it only seemed to break him in the last possible way. He hiccuped and bent forward as a sob wrecked his body. Eddie ran to him, he always did so. 

And the two men stood in a shitty apartment kitchen and gripped tightly onto each other. Crying into Eddie’s shoulder or Richie’s chest. Whichever, didn’t really matter because soon that great option would be gone and anymore tears they shed would be coddled alone.

                                                    ~~~~~~~

After Eddie left the place, Richie completely broke down in his living room in a mirrored way to Eddie’s breakdown in Bill’s apartment…though it took them both around an hour to truly let it flow…at almost the exact same time…they broke… 

A small glass of perfume sat on a dresser in the guest room housing Eddie. It was the small and delicate glass with a large daisy stopper blocking any leakage.

It sat there, absolutely still, as a pair of hands quickly picked and pulled from the array of products sat around it. But with that speed came clumsiness and the hands just darted to fast on the pull-back of some papers and down came the bottle. Knocking it off the counter and revealing the ring of dust that had been living underneath it.

Eddie paused for a moment before peeking over the lip of the dresser to find the tiny bottle. The rounded broken piece was rolling just the slightest bit while the rest of the tiny shards bathed in the small puddle of the scent leaking out.

That perfume had once belonged to his mother, her favorite scent. He’d taken it with him upon leaving for school that first time because…it was a sort of comforting smell. Call it pathetic aromatherapy? It gave him a sense of her old coddling. Kneeling down, he intended to start cleaning the mess up but he hesitated. The tip of his finger laid frozen in the burgundy puddle as a wave of emotion fell upon him. He’d been holding back on truly coming to terms with what his mind and body ached for. But looking at the old shattered tie to his smothering mother on Bill’s hardwood floor…the gate was opened without his permission.

A flood of tears finally broke past his eyes again and rolled down his cheeks, the heat from his previous restrain could almost burn his skin. In an instant he was near hysterical. His breathing was rapid and short as it became harder for him to push-back the devastation. More then anything in his life he wanted to call Richie…he wanted him with him. But at the same time he was desperate to shove him away entirely and gain some damn independence…let Richie breathe.

The palm of his hand curled over his mouth in an attempt to block some of the sound from breaching the thin walls of Bill’s home. He did not want Bill to hear any bit of this breakdown, he didn’t need to see him so…sad. He was already taking him in until he got back on his feet and he didn’t need anymore stress so he just needed to be strong, he was usually extremely good at that. It was enough that he’d broken down when facing the love of his life. There’d be nothing more now.

A deep breath or two and he was off the floor and on his way to collect a dust-pan and broom.

But as always, Bill Denbrough seemed to sense the trouble and came to Eddie. 

‘Fuck’ that broke Eddie again. Bill took his second ‘little’ brother into his arms and they both swayed. Bill, who wasn’t scared of anything at all in the eyes of his best friends…feared for these two. He looked up, some of Eddie’s hair catching his eyes, and he hoped to anything that would listen that Richie and Eddie will work it out. The Losers Club had always just assumed they’d be together forever since they were little…just the same as they assumed it for Ben and Beverly when they found each other. 

Richie and Eddie were far too young to be going through a divorce.

                                                    ~~~~~~~

Richie curled up on his couch, going from mindlessly watching the Food Network to sleeping to the sound of ‘Friends’. His eyes burned from all the shitty crying and staring at his laptop screen. He’d even managed to get that homework done. But now he was at a loss. 

Part of him ached to call his parents. They’d know what to say but it gave him the same dread that calling up Stan would. 

If he came to them crying, it only further hammered in the point that they’d been right all along. Marrying your sweetheart in High School was a bad idea. Who knew? 

Richie was awakened by the sound of the buzzer. He shuffled out of bed and let whoever it was come up, hoping it was Mike. He was the best of em’ and he always had something kind to say even if you’d been in the wrong…Mike was always on your side. 

When the knocking came, Richie eagerly walked to the door and…

“Hey.” 

Stanley Uris hiked up a bag slung over his shoulder and smiled gently. Richie kinda wanted to throw up just the same as he wanted to hug him. “Big Bill told everyone, right?” Richie smirked and nodded to himself, bouncing on his feet. “Come to tell me how right you were-? Tell me that if i’d only listened to you this never would’ve happened-” 

Stan took the bag of his shoulder and set it near Richie’s feet. “You know me better than that, asshole.” He frowned but opened his arms wide. It was a sight that drove Richie back into his fucking tears. He fell into the arms of his friend and sobbed again and again until it was time to breathe. 

Stan rubbed a hand through his hair and tried to calm him. “You’re gonna be ok, Rich.” 

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

So life went on the way it always does for The Losers Club. Best friends. Before the start of his Junior year, Richie decided to take a good ol’ road-trip down to California for a small summer taste of it all. With him, he took Michael Hanlon who desperately needed the break. 

But as life would have it, Mike returned to Maine alone. Richie’s summer taste turned into a full-on love affair that lead him to start the hectic process of transferring schools. 

Ben and Beverly waited until graduation but left for Chicago the instant it was over. Both of them had worked internships at offices for their respective career choices and earned themselves singing recommendations. 

Stanley Uris finished up in Vermont, meeting the loveliest girl in the process, Patty. And the two of them flooded off to Georgia where Stan was eerily 100% sure was the right place. And almost instantly, they seemed to fall into the dreamiest of job situations.

Michael went off to Florida. The place which had been calling him since he was young and became a full-time librarian at one of the finest library’s he’d ever set foot in. 

Bill continued with his writing and traveled to New York in the middle of his junior year which funnily enough was where Eddie had been drawn too as well. From there, Bill met and fell for a girl called Audra. 

As Eddie started work at a nice office for Risk Analysis, Richie got his dream job at a California Radio Station. 

There were plenty of visits, phone-calls and group-chats to keep the love flowing. Because after all, Losers stick together…

Even if a once couple…married couple…seemed to drift away from each other. After the divorce papers were signed…Richie&Eddie became Richie and Eddie. 

In desperate fear, they became the most distant of the bunch. Not with the others. No. Just each other. Which was truly devastating when everyone knew how much they loved each other.

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

{December, Ten years later}

“-And a real famous cat all dressed up in red. And he spends the whole year workin’ out on his sled. It’s the little Saint Nick. Ooooo, little Saint Nick!”  

Richie Tozier turned right down the next small street and seemed to forget to use his blinker. He tapped his hands against the wheel as if it were his very own drum-set and chuckled to himself. Being back in Derry was certainly a trip. 

But with the Holiday’s, it came time for Ol’ Richie to visit the parents who were still cuddled up in their tiny-town home. Part of him was kind of excited to see the little stop-and-shop piece of shit town again. It’d been a solid couple of years since the last time he’d set foot on Derry’s fine streets. 

“She’s candy-apple red with a ski for a wheel. And when Santa hits the gas, man, just watch her peel-”

Richie hit the brake far harder than intended but the minor choking from the seat-belt was worth it. Right in perfect view was…damn Eddie Kaspbrak walking down the side-walk, hands shoved into his jacket pockets. The night air was a bitter kind of chill and snow was beginning to fall. Richie bit hard into the smirk now coming over his face. 

He pulled the car close to the curb and rolled the window down. Sticking his head out, he did his best cat-call whistle (not that he did that kinda thing-ha ha). Eddie did not spare a glance, just walked a little faster so- 

“HEY ASSHOLE!!” Richie laughed wildly, still cruising slowly. 

Eddie stopped in his tracks and snapped his head to the right, eyes widening almost instantly. “Dick! That you? Didn’t recognize you in that…” He glanced over the supremely nice car with something of wonder…wanting to get his hands all over it. “Sweet car, man.” Eddie strolled forward, Richie felt his chest tighten with joy. “What happened to ‘James Taylor’?” he pouted his lips and rested his hands on the open ledge of the window. 

“Ah, Ed’s my boy. You see….-” Richie tapped the mirror with charm and tried to hide his blush. “When you’re a successful as I am-” 

Eddie hunched over slightly in laughter, bringing their faces much closer together. So close that Richie thought he might lose what little cool he had. “Good to know you stayed just as humble as you used to be.” 

They chuckled together before Richie found himself astoundingly nervous again. “Your mom drag you back here for the Holiday’s?” 

Eddie licked his lips and nodded. “Something like that-” He rubbed his finger into the corner of his eyes. “My mom died, actually. I’m in town for the um-funeral arrangements and all that jazz, baby.” He pathetically waved his hands in a mock dance. It struck Richie as odd, it seemed like more of something that he’d do. 

“I’m sorry, Eddie.” He hoped to sound genuine which in part, he was. But there was that large part of distaste and hatred in his soul for Sonia that only had grown larger over the years. 

“Yeah, it’s fine.” He looked away and shivered a little in the night air. “I was just taking a walk to clear my head.” 

“Wanna clear it in here?” Richie gestured to the empty passengers seat which was far from the picture of calm. The vehicle was decorated very closely to the way one’s home would be for the holidays. String lights around the ceiling and a Little Tree Freshener spun in fake toy-dollhouse lights hung over the rear-view mirror. It made Eddie unbelievably giddy. Such a Richie thing to do. 

“Oh definitely.” Good to know that they were still just as good at ignoring the issues in favor of the natural chemistry they had together. It was a charm that got them into a lot of trouble in the past. But Eddie didn’t mind, he walked around and hopped inside with excitement. 

Richie pulled off the curb and leaned over dangerously to open the glovebox where two Santa hats laid. “Wanna be go for matching?” 

“Oh, hell yeah. Obviously” Eddie shrugged with his toothy grin that Richie had always adored. So they sat in their seats…in red & white holiday hats…like a pair idiots. But Eddie just had to admire this long lost love of his. 

“I’m so proud of you, Rich.” Eddie let that comment slip and Richie blushed. “I watched that comedy special you did-”

“We did the right thing.” Richie interrupted Eddie no matter how hard it was to stop such a delightful giggle. His ex fell silent and time was passed in the company of the sound of the Christmas tunes and rolling tires on loud streets.

“Hey-” 

Eddie blinked up to find Richie pulling closer to the curb again and pointing. “That’s the um-that’s that bench where Bill totally flipped over on his bike. Remember? He was distracted-”

“By you and your impression of that cop. I remember.” Eddie giggled again and the tension was lifted once more. “If you go up the street a little…yeah-” 

Eddie snapped his fingers as Richie followed his direction, the bell at the end of his hat jingled. “That’s where I ran off to that night I pretended that I had to puke…” 

The park looked a little deserted and Richie had to laugh at the picture of his once boyfriend sprinting down the sidewalk, so tipsy.  

“Ben came and got me…” He looked towards the gazebo with love in his eyes. “He was really there for me that night.” He nodded and Richie decided to move on with this fun tour of Derry’s hot-spots. 

The two of them cruised past so many of the Losers Club’s old favorite places and shared everything attached to them again. 

They pulled down a lonesome street and found the sight of the drive-in root-beer place. It was still across the street from the abandoned 7/11 that used to be a CVS where no one had ever shopped. Except now, it was an open Walgreens. Both of them stared down the Drive-in….

“Still open…impressive.” Richie pulled onto the curb a bit and parked. He glanced at his friend who was now opening the car door and climbing out. “Oh, we’re going inside?” 

“Hell yeah.” Eddie leaned back down into the window, eyes wide and hoping. Richie was overcome with a great sense of joy. He shut the car off and followed the man of his dreams into the restaurant that held all their first date memories. 

                                                     ~~~~~~~

“Would it impress you to see me eat AND keep down my hot-dog dipped in the Root-Beer Float?” Richie asked, swirling his airborne dog in the open air over the sweet drink. 

Eddie giggled. “That’s disgusting. Please don’t do that for the sake of my entertainment.” 

Richie set down his dog and leaned back on the orange vinyl, thinking of Skip Larson’s flying homework assignments again. “Why did you give me that second date, Ed’s?” He asked, looking away and at his meal. 

Eddie slurped down some of his drink and grinned. “Easy. I was in love with you. No amount of vomit could change that.” 

Richie covered his grin with his cupped hand. “Thank you for doing what you did, Eddie-”

“I don’t know that I’ll ever feel good about hurting you like that, Richie. For us drifting apart like that. That shit keeps me up at night.” Eddie shook his head and Richie sighed because ‘yeah, that shit sucked’. He set his napkin down and strolled over to Eddie’s side of the booth. 

“The marriage was a mistake…” He nodded. “But you were never the mistake, Eddie.” He stared into his eyes with direct contact for the first time in a long while. It threw them both for a wild shake. “If we didn’t stop it when we did…” He shrugged. “We would have gotten too comfortable with the settling we were doing in Maine. It wouldn’t have worked out.” 

“I still feel like shit-” 

“Ok so, you feel like shit. But look at you, living a damn good life. You’re successful. You like your job-” 

“Love my job.” Eddie added because it was true. It was something he was heavily invested in. 

“Love your job. Got to New York, where you were meant to be…your soul place, I think. And hell, Eddie you’re so fucking independent. The guys talk about how proud they are all the time. I’m proud as shit too. A nice fuck you to Sonia Kaspbrak-” Richie paused, realizing how inappropriate that was considering. But Eddie only nodded in agreement. 

“A nice fuck you.” He repeated in confirmation. There was still some kind of love and there always would be but…he didn’t have to like her to love her. Maybe that was sad.

 “And I-…well, I got my radio show in California and it means so much to me, baby. We never…ever would have got that shit on the path we were stuck on. So yeah, we’ll feel like shit for losing these years but it’s better than the place we were all those years ago.” Richie threw his arm around Eddie and the smaller of the two sighed into it. “Now, I didn’t miss ya much myself-” Richie exaggerated his hand gestures. “BUT My parents, for one, missed you like crazy.” 

Eddie giggled. “How are the Toziers?” he asked, a new fry hanging slightly from his mouth. 

“Oh, my favorite old people are living it up. My mother and I have never had a better relationship, I swear on it. I talk to em’ like every other day. Just can’t get rid of them! Wentworth asks about you a lot if he’s not distracted by the other Losers which the ol’ Toziers begged me to ask them over for the Holiday’s last week.” Richie shrugged and Eddie realized just how much he missed Richie’s folks too. 

“I’m still so crazy about you.” Eddie spoke in soft wonderment and bit hard into his lip. 

“We’re in the same boat, babe.” Richie grinned. 

“Could you give me another chance, you think?” Eddie asked, still believing he deserved for Richie to be mad. “Forgive me?” He added, looking unbelievably nervous. 

Richie dunked the Hot-Dog in the float and grinned. “Eddie, my love, don’t ask such dumb questions.” He took a large chunk of the food and swallowed it down with his happy smile. “I said it before and I’ll say it forever, you’ve got nothing to apologize for. Now please, come make-out with me in the bathroom?” 

Richie held out his hand which Eddie gladly accepted. They’d finally found their way back to each other and they couldn’t wait to share the news with their best friends. 

[dndeed]

Critical Role Miniature Rollout: C2E75

With Andrew Harshman

An archive and review of the minis used on Critical Role.

What wondrous miniature production value. Two maps that could easily have been climactic battle finales by themselves. Nearly no expense spared for a plot that is tantamount to a side quest. Is Matthew Mercer just showing off for the guest?

Prepare to iceflex on these monsters, it’s time for Critical Role Miniature Rollout Campaign 2 Episode 75!

The List

Dungeons and Dragons Condition Markers by thelukec

Mats by Mars: Winter’s Wrath v1.0

Mats by Mars: Shattered Soil

Dwarven Forge Caverns Elevation Pack

Dwarven Forge Dungeon of Doom Elevation Platform

Dwarven Forge Erinthor Mountains Set

Dwarven Forge Caverns Deep Ice Caverns

Dwarven Forge Caverns Deep Ice Walls

Dwarven Forge Various Treasure Gold Piles

Steamforged Games Critical Role Miniatures

HeroForge Jester Duplicity Miniature

Monster Menagerie #021 Bryn Lightfingers (Invisible)

D&D Nolzur's Marvelous Unpainted Miniatures: Elf Female Druid

Deadly Foes #032 Giant Eagle

Monster Menagerie #029 Yeti

Rise of the Runelords #044 Yeti

Tomb of Annihilation #031 Girallon

Deathknell #53 Fiendish Monstrous Scorpion

D&D Icons - Gargantuan White Dragon

Fake Model Snow Found at Hobby Shops

The Dragon

Gelidon, the Nightmare in Ivory D&D Icons - Gargantuan White Dragon

What can be said about this truly iconic D&D Icons icon? Quite a lot actually. Obviously this dragon has outstanding table presence. With a 4x4 base it dominates the map. There are some subtly awesome details in the construction of this piece. The paint, pose, and physical material are all cleverly crafted to further bolster this mini’s appearance.

The wings are just a little bit translucent, which gives them a very realistic and striking look. The sculpt has a wonderful sense of scale and weight to it. The dragon is posed in this sort of hunched stance, which really sells and justifies the size of the creature. Lots of miniatures are big, but this miniatures backs up it’s bulk with quality details that make is look like a truly massive and epic creature. 

There is one unfortunate production slip up, the left wing is bisected by a gnarly seam. Only this wing appears to have been manufactured in two parts. The placement somewhat masks its presence and you’ll be so distracted by this miniatures beauty that it’s hardly perceivable.

The Gargantuan White Dragon is part of the D&D Icons series that was manufactured during the Dungeons and Dragons Miniatures Game and Third Edition period. D&D Icons, not to be confused with Icons of the Realms, which does include 4x4 dragons, but they are on crummy round flight stands and the the scale is far smaller, far wimper, far less compelling. The four D&D Icons dragons totally outclass everything else in the prepainted fantasy miniatures world.

The Terrain

Dragon’s Lair Mats by Mars: Winter’s Wrath v1.0, Dwarven Forge Caverns Elevation Pack, Dwarven Forge Dungeon of Doom Elevation Platform, Dwarven Forge Erinthor Mountains Set, Dwarven Forge Caverns Deep Ice Caverns, Dwarven Forge Caverns Deep Ice Walls, and Fake Model Snow Found at Hobby Shops

Two very hefty maps. For a person who does not like flocking, I really enjoy the physical snow particles. It is very effective. Like, Pokemon battle levels of effective. These two maps are basically all Dwarven Forge, including cutting edge Caverns Deep DF Ice Cavern sets. What a wondrous sponsorship.

The Characters

Reani D&D Nolzur's Marvelous Unpainted Miniatures: Elf Female Druid Mini images in this section sourced from minisgallery.com

The custom paint work on this model looks excellent. There does not appear to have been time for an original Steamforged sculpt, but I’m glad there was time for paint. Would definitely be interested in seeing some lawful good quality photos of this mini. We need some close up shots of this fine character.

The Monsters Yetis

Yeti Tomb of Annihilation #031 Girallon

Another bad Tomb of Annihilation piece. The pose is engaging, but that is overshadowed by iffy definition, spotty paint, and a literally spotty coat of wash. This phenomenon is not uncommon in the Icons of the Realms mini line. A strange wash which fails to bring out the sculpt details and instead just looks dirty and speckled.

Again, this is an interesting pose, but sadly the creature design is weak. The main selling point of the girallon is that is has four arms. A physical feature which is downplayed in this model. The diminutive nature of the lower arms is informed partially by the 5E Monster Manual girallon artwork, but that’s a lousy excuse. You can hardly see those scrawny little limbs. Which actually turns this into an alright yeti. One thing I do like is that the small arms are in sort of an old timey boxing type pose as if to say “Put em up, put em up!” This ape doesn’t know sign language, but he appears to be a learned pugilist.

Yeti Monster Menagerie #029 Yeti 

More of that nasty Icons of the Realms black speckled wash. Decent sculpt quality with a pose that is oddly symmetrical and a pretty underwhelming. Curiously, this model has a defined buttcrack. Hopefully I’m mistaken and it’s actually just a zipper for the yeti disguise the Mighty Nein were planning to craft.

Yeti Rise of the Runelords #044 Yeti

Here we have the type of yeti that shaves their chest. Impressive physique, gotta show it off, weather be damned. On the note of physiology, this is also a very symmetrical pose too, but ti looks more natural with the limb placement offset slightly to make it look less artificial. Certainly the best of the three yetis. I can only assume this yeti is the leader. He’s the only one with any aesthetic sense. Check out that quality loin cloth and customary fantasy miniatures skull belt.

The Nonhuman Animals

Scorpion Deathknell #53 Fiendish Monstrous Scorpion

An awesome arachnid by all accounts. The red highlights are overly subtle in my opinion, but the sculpt and build are really solid. Many legged minis are often somewhat brittle. These scorpion legs are nice and hardy however. Even if you’re a powerful shape changing druid with massive snapping claws, you can’t skip leg day. It pays off as we see here.

Closing Thoughts

A regular dragon heist. Good work Mighty Nein.

#criticalroleminiaturerollout

[chiseler]

Sabotage

Emile Pouget (1860-1931) spent his political life on the revolutionary syndicalist wing of the French working-class movement.   Never frightened of revolutionary violence, he was arrested in 1883 and spent three years in prison for a riot that resulted in the pillaging of three bakeries (a riot at which Louise Michel was also arrested) . He was most famous for his newspaper and almanac called Le Père Peinard, which advocated not just syndicalism, but direct action by the workers, principally in the form of sabotage, which he was even able to get the Confédération Générale du Travail to adopt as an officially sanctioned tactic. This article is from the 1898 edition of his almanac.

Sabotage is something great that in a little while will make the fat cats laugh out of the other side of their mouths.

At the last Congrès Corporatif in Toulouse, where a bunch of terrific guys came from the four corners of France, sent by the unions, SABOTAGE was loudly acclaimed.

The place went wild over it.

And all the delegates promised that once they’d gotten home to spread the word on the thing so that the working stiffs could practice it all over.

And I can assure you, my pals, that that enthusiasm is not the result of a passing fancy, a fad.

Not in the least!

The idea of SABOTAGE will not remain an empty dream: it’ll be carried out.

And the exploiters will finally understand that the boss’ job isn’t a bed of roses.

That said, for the guys who don’t know what this is all about, I’m gonna explain what sabotage is.

Sabotage is the conscious kicking of the boss in the ass, it’s the screwing up of a job, it’s a grain of sand snuck into the gears so the machine breaks down, it’s the systematic sinking of the boss’ system...All of this carried out secretly, letting know one know what’s going on when it’s being done.

Sabotage is the baby cousin of the boycott. And fuck it, in a bunch of cases when a strike is impossible it can render some damn good service to the working stiffs.

When an exploiter feels like his workers can’t pull off a strike he doesn’t hesitate to screw them over. Stuck in the gears of exploitation the poor buggers don’t dare speak up for fear of being sacked. They’re eaten up with rage and bend their necks. Eaten up with rage, they still put up with the boss’ prickeries.

But they put up with them. And angry or not, the boss doesn’t give a damn, as long as things go the way he wants.

Why are things like this?

Because the working stiffs haven’t found the right way to respond tit for tat to the big ape and, with their actions, neutralize his screwing.

But the way exists:

It’s sabotage!

The English have been doing this for a long time – and they find it a terrific fucking thing.

For example, suppose a big prison, er... factory whose boss suddenly has a thieving whim; maybe he’s got a new mistress to keep up, maybe he’s got his eye on a chateau...or maybe he has some other fantasy that calls for an increase in his benefices. The bastard doesn’t hesitate; to get the profit he aims at he lessens the number of working stiffs, saying things are going badly. Fuck, he doesn’t ever lack for some kind of reasons.

Let’s suppose that this mangy dog has carefully worked out his plans and his vise squeezing coincides with a situation so messed up that his workers can’t even try to strike. What happens?

In France, the poor exploited would piss and moan, cursing the vampire. A few- the hardiest of them – would make a real stink and find themselves in the calaboose. As for the others, they’d just put up with the hand they were dealt.

In England, dammit, things would happen differently. And this is because of sabotage. The workers would secretly pass the word from ear to ear: “Hey, mates, we’re gonna sabotage the place...we gotta do it on the QT.” And before you know it, production would be slowed down. So slow that if the boss isn’t as dumb as a stump he won’t persist in his prickery. He’ll return to the former pay rate, ‘cause he’ll have understood that going like this for every five cents he saves on each worker’s day he loses four times that amount.

That’s what it means to do what you gotta do.

While those who just lay down and take it would have had their asses kicked, these guys, taking some initiative, manage to pull themselves out of the shit.

* * *

So here we see a beautiful definition of sabotage: for bad pay, bad work.

And goddam this’ll be great when it enters into our way of thinking. It’ll be too damn bad for the boss’ band when the fat monkeys learn from experience that that tile is always ready to fall on their noggins. The fear of losing money and of going bankrupt will calm the arrogance of the fat cats.

Feeling the vulnerability of their cash boxes -which serve as their hearts – they’ll think twice before unloading one of their customary dirty deals on us.

Of course there’ll be some good buggers who, on the pretext that we have to have our eye on the radical disappearance of capital, will find it too petty to limit ourselves to keeping the fat apes in their places and preventing them from showing their claws.

These people have forgotten the two faces of the social question: the present and the future.

Well, the present prepares the future. If there was ever a time when the saying “You made your bed, now lie in it” is appropriate, it’s this one.

The less we allow ourselves to be beaten by the bosses the less intense will be our exploitation, the stronger will our revolutionary resistance, the greater will be our consciousness of our dignity and the more vigorous will be our desire for freedom and well-being.

And consequently, we’ll be better able to prepare the blossoming of that great society where there’ll be no more rulers, no more fat cats.

And we’ll be better able too, when we get there, to evolve in our new surroundings.

If on the contrary instead of starting our apprenticeship in freedom now we show no interest in current life, showing contempt for the needs and passions of the present hour, it won’t be long before we dry out in a world of abstractions and become terrific at splitting hairs And then, living in our dreams, our activity will dullen and, since we’ll have lost all contact with the masses, the day we’ll want to shake ourselves out of our torpor we’ll find ourselves stuck in the mud like an elephant.

So there’s no two ways about it: in order to bring about equilibrium in life, in order to take human activity to its highest level, neither the present nor the future should be neglected.

When one weighs more than the other the rupture of equilibrium isn’t pretty. When we’re stuck in the present we get lost in the pointless and the petty; if we fly off into the clouds we manage to freeze in the ideal.

And this is why I tell the boys who have some balls: don’t lose sight of either the present or the future.

In this way they’ll reactivate the germination of hopeful ideas and the spirit of revolt.

by Emile Pouget

From  the Almanach du Père Peinard, 1898

(Translated by Mitch Abidor)

[helenahann-basquiat]

Four Decades of Misanthropy

It’s four in the morning, and I haven’t slept. That’s mania for you. That’s the other side of the Depression See-Saw. Only it’s not a happy mania, it’s torture. I’ve been writing this in my head for the last couple of hours, so I figured I’d get up and write the goddamned thing.

My earliest childhood memory is of cruelty.

I’m not even talking about being abused, but I’ll get to that later. I’m…

[patricksmusicblog]

My Favorite Albums/Projects From Each Year of the 10s

The 2010′s decade is about 6 months till its end, mind-boggling enough, this blog has existed for 9 years of it starting mid-2011. Thank you to everyone who’s ever taken any sort of time out of their life to read, think about, or even just glance at one of my reviews over the years it’s meant a lot. Special thanks to those who’ve sent music for me to review or just to listen too and those who’ve reached out and bonded with me over music and more the past few years. This is a compilation of most of all my favorite albums/mixtapes/eps over the years. I’ll probably condense it by years end to a top 50 albums of the 10′s list at the year's end. Hopefully, you find something you haven’t heard and enjoy.

2010 Favs:

Drake- Thank Me Later(Rap): Katy Perry- Teenage Dreams(Pop) Vampire Weekend- Contra(Indie Pop) MGMT- Congratulations(Psych Rock) Nicki Minaj- Pink Friday(Rap) Morning Benders- Big Echo(Indie Pop) Kid Cudi- Man On The Moon II: The Legend of The Rager(Rap) Earl Sweatshirt-Earl(Rap) Four Tet- There Is Love In You(Electronic) Logic- Young Broke and Infamous(Rap) Ceremony- Rohnert Park(Punk)                                                       Baths- Cerulean(Electronic) Caribou- Swim(Electronic)

2011 Favs:

Drake- Take Care(Rap) Kendrick Lamar- Section 80(Rap) Elzhi- Elmatic(Rap) Tyler The Creator- Goblin(Rap) A$AP Rocky- LiveLoveA$AP(Rap) Adele- 21(R&B/Pop) Braids- Native Speaker(indie pop/experimental) Common- The Dreamer The Believer(Rap)                                           Death Grips-Exmilitary(Rap/Experimental)                                                        Thurz-LA Riot(Rap) Logic- Young Sinatra(Rap) Plaid- Scintilli(Electronic) The Roots- Undune(Rap) Battles-Gloss Drop(experimental rock) Africa HiTech-93 Million Miles(Electronic) Torae-For The Record(Rap) Oneohtrix Point Never-Replica(Electronic) Wale-Ambition(Rap) Danny Brown- XXX(Rap)

2012 Favs:

Death Grips-The Money Store(Experimental Hip-Hop) Death Grips- No Love Deep Web(Experimental Hip-Hop) Kendrick Lamar-Good Kid MAAD City(Rap) OFF!-Off!(Punk) Godspeed You! Black Emperor- Allelujah! Don't Bend! Ascend!(Post-Rock) Cloud Nothings- Attack On Memory(Post-Hardcore) The Act Of Estimating as Worthless-Amongst These Splintered Minds//Leaden Thoughts Sing Softly(Indie-Folk) Big Krit-Live From The Underground(Rap) Aesop Rock-Skelethon(Rap) Crypts-Crpt(Electronic) BBNG-BBNG2(instrumental Hip-Hop/jazz rap) KRS-One- The BDP Album(Rap) Killer Mike-Rap Music(Rap) Nas-Life Is Good(Rap) Animal Collective- Centipede Hz(Psych-pop/Experimental Music) Torche- Harmonicraft(Punk) Squarepusher- Ufabulum(Electronic) Rapsody-The Idea Of Beautiful(Rap) Grimes-Visions(Synth-Pop) Joey Bada$$-1999(Rap)https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CnwUlyjmloI Theesatisfaction -Awe Naturale(Neo-Soul)(R&B)

2013 Favs:

Honey Bones- Honey Bones EP(Synth-Pop) A$AP Rocky-LongLiveASAP(Rap) Joey Bada$$- Summer Knights(Rap) Daft Punk- Random Access Memories(Disco,Electronic,Funk) Janelle Monae-Electric Lady(R&B)                                                Braids- Flourish//Perish(Electronic/Synth-pop)                                Daniel Avery-Drone Logic(Electronic) Anamanaguchi- Endless Fantasy(Electronic/chiptune) Am & Shawn Lee- La Musique Numerique(Electronica) The Haxan Cloak-Excavation(Experimental Electronic) My Bloody Valentine- MBV(Shoegaze) Danny Brown- Old(Rap) Charli XCX- True Romance(Synth-Pop) J.Cole-Born Sinner(Rap) Katy Perry- Prism(Pop) Rapsody- She Got Game(Rap) Tyler The Creator- Wolf(Rap) Paramore- Paramore(Pop-Punk/Alternative) Boards Of Canada-Tomorrow's Harvest(Electronic) Mac Miller- Watching Movies With The Sound Off(Rap) Run The Jewels- Run The Jewels(Rap)

2014 favs:

La Dispute- Rooms Of The House(Post-Punk) Solids- Blame Confusion(Post-Hardcore) Cloud Nothings- Here and Nowhere(Post-Hardcore) Off!- Wasted Years(Punk) Autistic Youth- Nonage(Punk) Sleepstream- They Flew In Censored Skies(Post-Rock) Indian- From All Purity(Black Metal) Glassbooks- Deluge(Post-Punk) Mono- Rays Of Darkness(Shoegaze) Manchester Orchestra- Cope(Alternative Rock) Kidaudra- Ache(Synth-Pop) Mars and The Massacre-Blackout(Garage Rock) Hivehead- Garbage(Punk) No Axis- Labyrinth(Electronic) American Wolf- My Main Sport(Post-Rock) Charli XCX- Sucker(Pop) Run The Jewels- Run The Jewels 2(Rap) Aphex Twin- Syro(Electronic) J. Cole-2014 Forest Hills Drive(Rap) Clipping- CLPPNG(Experimental Rap) Adult Jazz-Gist Is(Experimental Rock) Freddie Gibb & Madlib- Pinata(Rap) Kimbra- Golden Echo(Pop) Logic- Under Pressure(Rap) FKA Twigs-LP1(R&B) Deadmau5-While(1<2)(Electronic) Napolian- Incursio(Electronic) Eprom- Halflife(Electronic) Wolves In The Throne Room- Celestite(Electronic)                   Basement Jaxx- Junto(Electronic)                                          Tokimonsta- Desiderium(Electronic) Vessel-Punish, Honey(Electronic) Plaid- Reachy Prints(Electronic) Skyzoo & Torae- Barrel Brothers(Rap) Big K.r.i.t- Cadillactica(Rap) Uncommon Nasa- New York Telephone(Rap) French Montana-Coke Boys 4(Rap) Death Grips-Government Plates(Experimental Hip-Hop) Future-Monster(Rap) Nitty Scott MC- The Art Of Chill(Rap) Prhyme- Prhyme(Rap) Common-Nobody's Smiling(Rap) Shabazz Palaces- Lese Majesty(Rap) Mastodon- Once More 'Round The Sun(Metal)

2015 favs:

Kendrick Lamar- To Pimp a Butterfly(Rap) Tame Impala-Currents(Psych-Pop) Shlohmo- Dark Red(Electronic) Chelsea Wolfe- Abyss(Dark Wave) Dr. Dre- Compton(Rap) Joey Bada$$-B4.DA.$$(Rap) Protomartyr- The Agent Intellect(Post-Punk) Battles- La Di Da Di(experimental Rock) Girlpool- Before The World Was Big(Punk) Alabama Shakes- Sound & Color(Blues-Rock) Theesatisfaction- Earthee(rap) Square Pusher- Damogen Furies(Electronic) The Chemical Brothers- Born In The Echoes(Electronic) Earl Sweatshirt- I Don't Like Shit I don't go Outside(Rap) Grimes- Art Angels(Synth-Pop) Lupe Fiasco- Tetsu & Youth(Rap) Braids- Deep In The Iris(Electronic/Synth-Pop) Scarface- Deeply Rooted(Rap) Drake- If Your Reading This It's Too Late(Rap) Jay Rock- 90059(Rap) A$AP Rocky- At Long Last A$AP(Rap) Torche- Restarter(Sludge Metal) Aldo Calrissian- Future Shower Thoughts(Electronic) The Game- Documentary 2.5(Rap) Future- Beast Mode(Rap) Future- 56 Nights(Rap) Lana Del Rey- Honeymoon(Baroque pop) Adele- 25(Pop/R&B) Constant Deviants- Avant Garde(Rap)

2016 Favs:

A Tribe Called Quest-We Got It From Here...Thank You For Your Service(Rap) J. Cole-4 Your Eyez Only(Rap) Tacocat-Lost Time(Punk) Weezer-The White Album(Alternative) Danny Brown- Atrocity Exhibition(Rap) YG- Still Brazy(Rap) Schoolboy Q- Blank Face(Rap) Kendrick Lamar- Untitled Unmastered(Rap) BBNG- IV(Hip-Hop) Beyonce- Lemonade(R&B) Kamaiyah- A Good Night In The Ghetto(Rap) Solange- A Seat At The Table(R&B) Faxada- Cohost(Electronic) Celestial Sight- Through The Flat Fields(Electronic) Torae- Entitled(Rap) Kidaudra- Blue Human(Electronic) Aesop Rock-The Impossible Kid(Rap) Death Grips- Bottomless Pitt(Experimental Hip-Hop) Constant Deviants- Omerta(Rap) Man Bites Dog- Entertaining The World(experimental)-                  James Blake- The Colour In Anything(R&B) Drake- Views(Rap) Hivehead- Please Eat Ants(Punk) Damocles- Grizzly Neutron(Electronic) Kodachrome- Journey Into Imagination(Electronic) Lil Yachty- Lil Boat(Rap) Brooklyn White- One(Rap) Flatbush Zombies- 3001: A Laced Odyssey(Rap) Parquet Courts- Human Performance(Indie Rock) Run The Jewels- RTJ3(Rap)

2017 Favs:

DJ-V-The Mad, Mad, Maniac(Rap) Aldo Calrissian- Destroy All Bring New(Electronic) Cloud Nothings- Life Without Sound(Post-Hardcore) Honey Bones- Black(Electronic) Tops- Sugar At The Gate(indie rock) ZoThejerk & Frost Gamble- Black Beach(Rap) Metz- Strange Peace(Noise Rock) Lorde- Melodrama(Art Pop) Tone Chop & Frost Gamble- Respect Is Earned Not Given(Rap) Raekwon- The Wild(Rap) Big K.R.I.T-4eva Is A Mighty Long Time(Rap) Breakfast Muff- Eurgh!(Punk) Epiglottis-She Unravelled the Heavens and The Light Shone Through(Electronic) Jay-Z- 4:44(Rap) Protomartyr- Relatives In Descent(Post-Punk) Four Tet- New Energy(Electronic) Joey Bada$$- All Amerikkkan Bada$$(Rap) SZA- CTRL(R&B) Rapsody- Laila's Wisdom(Rap) Kendrick Lamar- DAMN(Rap Converge-The Dusk In Us(Metal/punk) Princess Nokia- 1992 Deluxe(Rap) Bibio- Phantom Brickworks(Electronic)

2018 Favs:

Reason-There You Have It(Rap) J.Cole- KOD(Rap) Pusha T- Daytona(Rap) Jay Rock- Redemption(Rap) Royce Da 5'9- Book Of Ryan(Rap) Meek Mill- Championships(Rap) Noname- Room 25 Jean Grae & Quelle Chris- Everything's Fine(Rap) Aphex Twin- Collapse EP(Electronic) Kidaudra- Pluto IRD(Electronic)https://kidaudra.bandcamp.com/ Dirty Projectors- Lamp Lit Prose(Experimental Rock) Black Panther: The Album(Rap) MGMT- Little Dark Age(Electronic) Hinds- I Don't Run(Indie Rock) Dream Wife- Dream Wife(Punk) Phryme- Phryme 2(Rap) Tone Chop & Frost Gamble- One(Rap) Cupcakke- Ephorize(Rap) Freddie Gibbs- Freddie Gibbs(Rap) Tierra Whack- Whack World(Rap) Flatbush Zombies- Vacation In Hell(Rap) Cardi-B- Invasion Of Privacy(Rap) Lil Wayne- Tha Carter V(Rap) 21 Savage- I AM > I Was(Rap) Kodak Black- Dying to Live(Rap)                                                     Logic- Young Sinatra IV(Rap) Converge- Beautiful Ruin EP(Metal/punk) Princess Nokia- A Girl Cried Red(Emo-Rap) Naked Giants-Sluff(Punk) Moaning- Moaning(Post-Punk) Chrome Panther- A Screaming Comes Across The Sky(Electronic) Shame- Songs Of Praise(Post Punk)

2019 Favs so far:

Freddie Gibbs & Madlib-Bandana(Rap)

Beast Coast-Escape From New York(Rap)

Styles P-S.P. the GOAT: Ghost of All Time(Rap)

Shlomo- The End(Electronic)

Avey Tare- Cows On Hourglass(Electronic)

Skinny Girl Diet- Ideal Woman(Punk)https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jilotRrvtsQ

Dreamville- Revenge of the Dreamers III(Rap)https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=57ZNBRzhTv8

[lesbianperaltas]

and before you leave (remember i was with you)

pairing: jake/amy rating: n/r word count: 2833 summary: When you grow up thinking that your best isn’t good enough it damages you, and Jake had been constantly reminded from missed birthdays, Bar Mitzvahs, and graduations that he wasn’t good enough—because if he was maybe his father would have stayed. or Amy wants a baby, Jake has daddy issues, but there's a resolve in the end.

[ AO3 LINK ]

When Jake is seven he loses his dad at the zoo because he was too busy talking to one of the mom’s sitting on the bench. Jake is too young to understand what this means—that his father should be watching his son watch the baby cubs instead of watching the way the mother bends over to pick up her own son.

On that same zoo trip they’re looking at the orangutans, Jake watching in amazement. There’s another little boy next to him with similar curly hair and Jake points it out saying they’re matching ‘curly hair bros’, the kid looks at him with confusion before shrugging his shoulders. Jake watches him stick his head in between the bars, he’s giggling and his mother is telling him to stop that because it’s dirty. Jake’s eyes widen, he needs to do that too, they’re curly hair twins after all! Jake’s smile is big, and he hopes his dad is watching him as he sticks his head in between those bars. The glory of doing it lasts only seconds before he makes eye contact with the orangutan. It looks like it’s coming near him and Jake starts to panic.

He doesn’t understand that the orangutan can’t actually get him, so he starts to yell for his dad to help him because he can’t get out between the bars. He doesn’t understand, his curly hair twin was able to get out no problem, but with Jake as he would learn in the future—everything was an obstacle, and he was the only one who could get himself out of it because people would always let him down.

His father let him down.

Roger only comes over because a mom asks if ‘that kid stuck in the bars’ belongs to him, and there’s a moment of shock on his face and it’s not because he’s genuinely worried, it’s because Jake’s embarrassing him.

“Just tilt your head.” He says, and Jake is panicking too much to do that. It’s hurting his neck and the orangutan is getting closer and closer. He doesn’t know that the ape would have to go across a large barrier and up an even bigger fence. His father doesn’t reassure him that it’s definitely not going to eat him, just that he needs to stop being funny and get out so they can leave.

A mother saves the day, kneeling down and coaching him out, and when he’s freed he feels himself starting to cry, but he’s seven years old, he can’t cry in front of everyone, they’d yell at him too. So he shoves those feelings down and shakes his head.

They leave shortly after, his father not talking to him the entire ride home.

That night when his mother comes into Jake’s room she asks how the zoo went, and he thinks of how much his neck hurts, and he thinks of how lonely it felt, but he doesn’t know how to verbalise such complex feelings because he’s only seven.

“It was really fun!” He says with a toothy grin, “My head got stuck in between a bar!”

He doesn’t elaborate on it when she asks. He just says that he’s tired when he’s not he just doesn’t want to talk about it anymore.

When she kisses him goodnight he burrows underneath the blankets, and when they think he’s asleep he hears yelling.

Jake preferred the silence when it came to their family, it was much easier to pretend that everything was okay when it wasn’t.

His father leaves not too long after that, leaving an open wound that never really heals. It only festers.

*

When the divorce is official Jake hugs his father unwillingly because his dad has his arms out open for him. He says that he’s going to definitely visit when he can, but somehow Jake doesn’t really believe him. When he wraps his arms around his father he doesn’t feel what he feels when his mother hugs him, there’s nothing warm or inviting about it, and for some reason, his mom takes a picture of it, like it’ll be the last time she’ll ever see this again. She’s not entirely wrong, Roger Peralta was a wild animal that was incapable of being domesticated, they had to learn to let him go.

His mother cries that night over a bottle of wine. Jake doesn’t know how to make her feel better, he just grabs a cup of ice to put in her glass and then tries to draw her a picture of just the two of them with the lions that he saw at the zoo saying that it was them.

Jake is a soft hearted child who didn’t deserve any of this, is what his mother tells all of her girl friends, but damn her for still loving him.

*

It never really affected him that much until he was learning how to ride a bike.

It never really affected him that much when his voice started to change and foreign things were happening to his body that he didn’t know how to control.

It never really affected him that much until he had his heart broken by a girl, and it definitely didn’t affect him that much when he had gotten his heart broken by a boy.

He swears that it doesn’t get to him, but when he first starts shaving he bleeds a lot and it hurts so fucking bad because he did it wrong and he’s too cool to ask his mom for help. The best that he can do is call his best friend and ask him what to do. Its when his friends dad picks up the phone and walks him through it that it really hits him.

His father should be here.

The last he heard from his dad was that he was getting married to his girlfriend of two months and that they were very happy. Her name was Patricia and Jake has crossed that off of names that he hates now.

When Jake walks out of the bathroom with tissue paper stuck to his face his mom screams and asks him what he was doing.

When he says that he was shaving, she has to turn away because she’s slapped in the face with the fact that this was just another thing that her ex-husband missed.

“Mom, it’s okay.” He laughs, shaking his head, “I’m sure John McClane cut his face his first time shaving too!” He shrugs his shoulders now and then animatedly adds, “If you look at it with your head tilted it kind of looks like a lopsided smiley face, see!” he takes the tissue paper off and showing her and she tilts her head and laughs, pressing a cool palm to his cheek and his chin.

“My boy.” She says, her face breaks slightly.

Later that night when he’s getting ready for bed he looks in the mirror at the cuts on his face where he nicked himself, he runs his fingers over it and tries to imagine what his father would say to him.

“Well, that’s too bad son,” he mutters with a strong pat on the back, because logically he knows his father wouldn’t comfort him. He never had in the past anyway, his affection was a pat on the back and a shrug.

Despite being old enough to shave he still felt like that little boy stuck between the bars waiting for his dad to save him.

*

When Jake graduates from the academy he hates how naive he is to think that his father would be there waiting for him, looking proudly at him because his son did it! When he sees the empty seat next to his mom his face falters for a moment while he gets handed his badge. He looks to his mom who mouths, “Sorry.”

After grabbing dinner with her at their favourite diner by their house he goes out with his academy buddies.

He made a bet with Rosa that he’s definitely going to outdrink her, and yes, it is a challenge that he plans on winning.

Jake doesn’t know how many drinks in they are but they get kicked out of the bar for being too rowdy and loud and they’re both walking down the streets of New York kind of holding on to each other for the sake of balance that Jake says, “Fuck my dad.”

Rosa hiccups slightly before she looks at Jake again, her eyes are narrowed before a small smirk plays on her lips. “Yeah fuck your dad.”

“Wait, you don’t even know what he did,” Jake says with a laugh.

Rosa shrugs. “Don’t need to. Fuck him.” She punches Jake’s shoulder but Jake knows that it’s all out of love.

“Does this count as public intoxication?” Jake asks, breaking the tiny amount of tension that only he probably feels.

Rosa looks up at the sky like it’ll give her an answer. “Nah, we’re walking in a totally straight line.”

Jake thinks for a moment before he snorts, “Yeah. Yeah, you’re right.”

His father texts him later that night saying that he’s sorry he couldn’t come, he had a flight.

Jake doesn’t believe him because he doesn’t care as he tips his bottle to finish his next drink. He’s totally winning life anyway.

*

Jake had always entertained the thought of being a father sometimes, when it’s late at night. His thoughts are never quiet or peaceful, but there is a kind of lull that night brings. He’ll think about what it would be like to have someone like him running around. He thinks of how much he’d love to have a little mini-me who probably liked cartoons as much as he did. He’d think of all the halloween costumes they could match in, and how he would definitely be able to steal some of his kids candy because come on, what kid needed that much candy anyway?

It’s these thoughts that are dangerous, because he’ll go to sleep imagining how to show his kid how to ride a bike, and if they’d fall he’d pick them up and kiss the boo-boo’s and promise that if they kept trying they’d get perfect at it. He’d imagine his proud face seeing that his kid was able to do it without his help and how all the cuts and scrapes were worth it because they conquered it.

Jake, in these fantasies, would never let his child have an open wound.

When he starts to date Amy these thoughts and fantasies just escalated until he tells himself that he needed to let them go, because deep down he knew he wouldn’t be a good dad.

Jake had a fake facade that he put on for everyone that he was confident and had it all together, and while he was confident, he didn’t have it all together, there were times when he felt the inside of him fall apart and the barrier of him and issues got bigger and bigger and sometimes they’d topple over and he’d have to rebuild again- but the thing was, whenever he’d try to rebuild what had been broken it was never really fixed, it was like he put a bandaid over the problem hoping that it would heal itself, but it never did.

It’s not that Jake doesn’t want kids, it’s just that he’s scared of them. He had always loved the idea of kids, because if it’s just an idea then he’s not responsible for the possible years worth of trauma that he’d inevitably give them when fucks up.

There are moments when he’s on the job that he thinks it could all go to shit and he could die, he doesn’t ever express them, but they’re there, and he thinks back to those imaginary kids in his head, what people would say to them if their dad died because of his line of work. He wouldn’t want to put anyone through that, he hates that he has to put his mom and Amy through that. When he was in jail he had heard stories of all the inmates and their kids and how some of them wouldn’t even talk to them anymore. He could sympathise with both sides, and wondered what his imaginary kids would think of him being in here, even if he was accused wrongfully. So were many other men here, too.

He doesn’t want to put any kid through the kind of anxiety of not knowing if their dad was going to come home.

(Because his clearly didn’t.)

*

Standing in front of Amy and Holt now Jake feels like the walls are slowly closing in on him until they’re forced to be knocked down again.

When he was putting together his notes he had so many thoughts swirling through his head he couldn’t keep up with them.

I want to be a father but I’m afraid that they’ll hate me.

I want to be a father but I’m afraid that I’ll want to leave like my father left me.

I want to be a father but I’m afraid that I’ll end up just like him.

I want to be a father but I’m afraid that my best won’t ever be good enough.

When you grow up thinking that your best isn’t good enough it damages you, and Jake had been constantly reminded from missed birthdays, Bar Mitzvahs, and graduations that he wasn’t good enough—because if he was maybe his father would have stayed.

When Jake hears the word start over, it makes something inside him that had been scabbed over bleed again.

The thing was, he loved Amy. He had never loved someone like the way that he loved Amy. She was everything that he wasn’t. He had never met someone who believed in him as much as she did. When there were nights when he had woken up in a cold sweat, thinking that he was still in prison, she would just reach out and hold his hand in the dark and tell him that everything was going to be okay because he was home and he was safe. When Jake gotten his heartbroken by small trivial things she would remind him that his feelings were valid and that it was okay to be sad about it while rubbing his back. She catered to his interests and indulged his fantasies all with her award winning smile that could make a dark void light up.

The thought of things changing with that terrified him because he always knew deep down that Amy could do better but time and time again she had proved him wrong and stayed. She stayed when most people left.

He didn’t want to start over, the thought made him feel sick. Looking in her eyes and seeing how much she wanted this and how much he thought about this himself over the years was overwhelming and he didn’t know what to do with those feelings. He refused to let Amy go and he knew that he had a long therapy session waiting for him when this was all over with this new therapist that he was trying out, but right now, in the thick of it, this was painful.

And all he could think about was that scared little seven year old boy and how much Jake had grieved for him over the years because he never really got to have a father. He didn’t know if having a kid would right the many wrongs, but standing in a room with the bomb had unlocked a vulnerable part of him that he thought he let go.

I am not my father, he thinks, I am capable of being a great dad when the time comes.

Closing the cap to the bomb and walking out the door to the bomb squad he thought about what it would be like to come home to someone who looked a little like him and a little like Amy. He thought about all the things that he’d get to do that he never got to do with his own father. He thought of how maybe they’d have a tradition of reading bedtime stories before bed and how he’d be able to get a good night’s sleep knowing that someone out there loved him unconditionally, but knowing that there was a part of Amy that would be in that child, he finally thought, well what’s not to love about that?

*

When Atlas Santiago-Peralta comes, there’s a moment when Jake is holding him that he looks up and he sees himself at seven years old, with his unruly curly hair and toothy smile and vulnerable heart, he nods to him and looks down at his own child and thinks, I’m going to take good care of you now, you don’t have to worry.

It took a long time for that open wound to heal, Jake is just now seeing the progress and he thinks that it’s good. This is good.

[okadaizoirl]

Broly is an abuse survivor and "gifted child" survivor icon and here's why.

Hey hi hate to DBZpost on main but I wanna talk about the Broly movie. Can I talk about that? I'll tag this as spoilers since I can't put a Readmore on mobile or at least... Don't know how to.

Okay, so let me preface this accordingly: Everything I know about Dragon Ball is from my fiancé. Everything I know, he taught me. He showed me the original Broly the Legendary Super Saiyan movie, and... Damn did it leave a bad taste in both of our mouths. But I'm not talking about inferior walking 18 Wheeler Broly.

I'm talking about the one with character development. 2019 Broly. Who I adore.

Firstly, on an aesthetic level? His new design is far more interesting and piques one's curiosity more. And I'm going off of base forms because transformed... Oh it's a can of worms, squiggly dirty earthworms. So base forms only.

On the left is the original, which I personally find... Generic. Okay, he's decked out in gold and glimmer and has a concerning upper body situation going on. Next.

But the one on the right? My first thoughts were, "What's that cloth around his waist? It looks like a pelt, were there huge beasts on the planet he and Paragus were on? What's that collar on his neck? What's the story on those scars?" Instantly more stimulating.

But that's not even what sold my happy ass on 2019 Broly.

Now we get into spoilers, and I apologize for such, but they're critical to my point. When Paragus found him on Vampa, he took to being unshakingly authoritarian to train Broly to keep his already astronomical power level in check. When Broly found a friend in the monster he called Bai, Paragus shot its ear off and made it hate Broly-- His only friend now hated him, which is arguably worse than just killing Bai since once its mind is made up due to its primal nature, it won't change it for any reason. What's more? Paragus did this because he believed having a friend was interfering with Broly's training, like how parents of "gifted children" believe hobbies like playing video games is just distracting them from studying. But Broly still hung onto that ear because... That was his only reminder of having friends! I can't speak for every survivor, but I also have objects or memories that remind me of happy times in my past despite the shadow of abuse that looms over the majority of it.

But Paragus isn't just a psychological abuser. The collar around Broly's neck is a shock collar, one that sends almost lethal amounts of electricity through his body-- And Paragus holds the controller for it, and uses it whenever Broly "acts out". It's not brief either. Paragus is seen holding the button down. It's also been used so many times that when he shows Frieza the remote, not even using it, Broly immediately panics and starts frantically pulling at his collar. And what do we call that?

That's right! A trigger! His trigger is a... Trigger. That was in poor taste, I admit it.

Cheelai and Lemo instantly see Broly's situation, and when Paragus openly shocks Broly in the cafeteria, Cheelai is quick to not only confront Paragus, but take away his source of power over Broly-- The remote-- And smashes it when Paragus is out of sight. Because Cheelai is FUCKING GREAT. She and Lemo even stick up for Broly beforehand when Paragus silences him! Their bond grows even more as they ensure Broly is well fed, let him drink water (which was the first time he had ever done so!! PARAGUS WHY DID YOU LEAVE YOUR SON DEHYDRATED), and most of all, let him speak about the trauma he endured! The support an abuse survivor needs is perfectly illustrated in Cheelai and Lemo, who even live with Broly back on Vampa to ensure his safety. They're even firm on guarding him from Goku, despite the guy just coming by to give them a home capsule, because they're dead set on Broly not being taken advantage of again!

Broly's attitude towards Paragus is also a detail I appreciate. When Cheelai and Lemo bring up the fact that Paragus is abusive to Broly, he still retains a sense of obligation to love his father due most likely to common emotional abuse tactics. And with Paragus? It would be multiplied. "I chose to live on this horrible, inhospitable planet with you and leave our home behind, and I raised you in this hellhole, because I am your father and you will behave!" That's what I imagine it sounding like. Not a stretch, either, since Paragus shows in a lot of times how just his words have power over Broly. No threats to use the remote, just words. "We're here to eat, not talk." And Broly is immediately quiet. Though you may be asking yourself, why does he still stick up for Paragus while the man in question isn't there to intimidate him? Well... In my experience, repeated emotional abuse is akin to brainwashing. You start to think what you're being told is the absolute truth for how many times you hear it, and how things happening is misinterpreted by either you or your abuser as "proof" of this undeniable truth. Broly is still a victim in the time that he meets Cheelai and Lemo, so he has no time to process the fact that what his father told him isn't the truth.

When Paragus is killed by Frieza (BIGGEST SPOILER, SORRY), Broly's perspective is suddenly flipped on its head. The shock collar broke, but being in the half Oozaru state made it seem like he either didn't know or didn't care. But suddenly not only was the man responsible for that repeated pain and the death of his only friend gone, but so was the one he was convinced was the only person who cared about him. This triggered him to transform further. Why? Because this mimics those abused being separated from their abusers before they themselves realize they're in a pattern. When this happened to me, I was convinced I couldn't live without the person who treated me so badly. I didn't Hulk out like Broly because I am but a mere human with a lopsided pasty form and low power level, but I was under intense emotional distress for a long time. It got... Bad, too, but I don't want to add another warning to the tags when it has enough already. But my point is, this is still an accurate portrayal of a victim of abuse.

Also!! The fact that Frieza sees Broly only as a tool is highly reminiscent of how people see "gifted children"! And the fact that Broly transformed into the Great Ape multiple times, which carries a stigma amongst Saiyans as something only to be used as a last resort? And Broly constantly used it? And was looked down upon as a result, despite not really being able to help it? This is a parallel to a developmental disorder, such as Autism or ADHD! And Frieza sees Broly as a possible tool due to his power level (his natural skill), but more of a liability due to being prone to transforming into the Great Ape (his developmental disorder)... Which sounds... Familiar, doesn't it?

I'm kind of going all over the place here so I'll sum it up in a nice, neat little summary.

TL;DR Broly is the most accurate representation of a survivor of both parental abuse and "gifted child" culture I have ever seen and I am so glad that this is our canon Broly.

Also, the animation was James Baxter levels of smooth and I adored it.