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methoxyethane · 4 years ago

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Reddie Prompt: “Peach Fuzz”

The first few hours of the drive down to California to meet Bev had been exciting. They had done it, they had graduated, they had all lived until eighteen and they were finally free of Derry and moving on. This was it, this was what they’d all been working towards for so many years, ever since that fateful summer they’d made friends in.

The road was open and it represented the entire world in front of them. It had felt like anything was possible, felt like the entire world was in their hands, like the sky itself was opening up for them. They’d rolled down the windows and turned up the music, letting the wind howl through the car and sang obnoxiously loud along with the tunes. Even Mike had joined in from time to time, though when it was his turn to drive he chose the radio and listened to music generally no one else in the car knew any of the words to and was left to fill the car with his voice alone.

Richie honestly loved Mike’s voice though, was always excited to hear his rather quiet and thoughtful friend open up and obviously have fun. Plus he had a nice singing voice, nicer than Richie’s own and nicer than pretty much any of the other guy’s except maybe Stan, who’s voice could, ironically, fit into a choir.

It had taken all the way until a few hours into Richie’s turn to drive for the novelty to wear off. Everything was still good and exciting and raw like and open wound, but at the same time he was starting to get tired, and kind of bored, and he couldn’t even bother Eddie because right now he was in the other car with Bill and Stan because they’d decided to rotate who drove and who rode in what car so no one would be stuck with anyone (Read: Richie) too long for the nearly week long trip from Maine to California.

They traded shifts so they wouldn’t have to pull over to sleep, everyone encouraging everyone else to rest while they could so they’d be ready to drive again when it was their turn. They pulled over for fast food and ate gas station food, they pissed at the side of the road and slept fitfully against the windows, and Richie knew that none of them would give up even a second of that road trip for any other fate in the world. It was stupid, and it was tiring, and the longer they went the more tired and frustrated everyone got, but it was the first taste of true freedom they’d gotten in their lives and they were all eager to experience the bad just as well as the good.

After nearly six days they finally reached Cali, where Bev was waiting for them. Bev was the reason they’d chosen California to begin with - not only was it as far away from Derry as you could get without leaving the country, but it was also where she had eventually wound up after she and her aunt had moved out of Maine three years ago. They’d all stayed in contact with her over the years, and all applied for schools in her area of California when they got the chance, having planned to follow her out there pretty much the instant she’d announced to any of them that she’d be moving to the other side of the country.

She’d met them all at her apartment, and everyone had poured out of the two cars they’d piled into to give her long-awaited hugs. Unfortunately, there'd been no time to enjoy her company, because Ben and Bill had gotten into a different college than Eddie, Stan and Mike had, who had all managed to get into different fields of study and therefore different schools than each other. This meant that everyone had to drive around unpacking the two cars, dropping everyone off at their respective dorms or apartments so they could all move in and get settled.

They were, in the end, all within about a forty-five minutes drive from each other, spotted all around the area. They still, however, only had two cars between them, but luckily for Richie he was sharing an apartment with Mike, who was the owner of one of said shitty vehicles and could be coerced into giving him the keys without much effort.

Which was good, because once Richie had moved in and set everything up he had expected himself to be exhausted. And he was, really, tired in a bone deep way that made his whole body ache for his bed, but then he tried to lay down to go to sleep he found it was impossible to calm his racing mind.

They’d done it. They had escaped Derry, they had made it to California to finally see Bev again, and it was all… so close to perfect. There was just one thing Richie wished for right now.

And, since it was past eleven at night and Mike had passed out on the couch like a log, it was a wish Richie could make true. As long as he didn’t wake Mike up stealing his keys.

Eddie wouldn’t know he was on his way, but Richie had helped Eddie move in earlier and still remembered exactly which dorm room was his. If he was lucky, Eddie’s old habit of leaving the window open a crack for Richie to slip in at night would carry true to this new location.

When Richie pulled up to Eddie’s school and sneaked up to the window, it occurred to him for a moment that he might have been able to use the door for once. But by that time he’d already located Eddie’s room on the first floor and peeked in through the window, where his boyfriend had his lights on and was currently rearranging his room for what Richie could only assume was not the first time.

He grinned, knocking on the window. Eddie jumped, whipping around at the window with wide eyes, only to roll them dramatically at the sight of Richie leering at him through the window.

Eddie opened the window to let him in, instantly scolding him as soon as he got inside. “You’re an idiot. You couldn't wait one day to see me again? I JUST got here, if you get me kicked out of school before I even attend one class I’m dumping you on the spot.”

“It’s fine, no one will catch us,” Richie assured as he closed the window behind him, advancing on Eddie to pull him close. “And even if we do we can just pretend it was all innocent and friendly and shit. They’ll never suspect I came here with untoward intentions, since they won’t actually be catching a girl in your dorm.”

Eddie let himself be pulled in, to spite his petulant expression. “They will if they catch us in the same bed.”

“There’s only one bed! We can just say I crashed here and got cold during the night.”

Eddie glared at him, but his face had that slightest little blush that always belied his weakness for Richie, and he knew he was going to get his way. “Fine. You can stay for awhile. But you have to keep your pants on - there’s no way we can talk our way out of it if you’re naked.”

Richie grinned, leaning in to plant a kiss on Eddie’s blushing cheek, then another one on his lips. With Eddie here in his arms, like he’d been longing for, Richie’s tiredness hit him all at once, and he all but collapsed onto Eddie’s bed, dragging his boyfriend with him.

Eddie grumbled, shoving his shoulder to get him out of the way so he could crawl off the bed. He only went as far as turning off the light before slipping back in, though, waiting for Richie to roll onto his side so he could snuggle in and relax into his hold.

Richie took in a deep breath of air and sighed it out slowly, his breath ruffling Eddie’s hair. He reached to tug on the blanket folded by their feet, pulling it up over to cover them both against the droning of Eddie’s fan as it whirled softly at them. It was something soft and fluffy, the peach fuzz of the blanket wrapping around them both to cocoon them in its warm embrace, and Richie felt himself relax.

Eddie was warm and pliant in his arms, more relaxed than he usually was when Richie convinced him it was a good idea to let him stay the night. Usually, however, they were sneaking around locked doors and keeping their voices low so as not to disturb Sonia, knowing the consequences for being caught would be dire. Now, however, to spite his protests there really was very little chance of Eddie getting in trouble for having another guy in his dorm room, and even if he did they wouldn't have the ability to give him much more than a slap on the wrist.

They were, for the first time, sleeping in the same bed without the fear and anxiety that came with being seen together.

And there had been so much of that. Back in Derry Sonia hadn’t been the only looming threat, and Richie and Eddie knew as well as anyone what being gay in that town would mean. They’d hid their relationship from everyone but their fellow Losers, keeping it close to their chests out of fear of retribution for their willingness to love each other.

But now, here, things were different. They were on the other side of the country, in a big city where not only did no one know them or care about them, but there was, according to Bev’s reassurances and Ben’s research, there was an active and thriving gay community to support them. This wasn’t like it was in their hometown anymore - things were different now. They were safe here.

And safe Richie finally felt. He had Eddie, he had his friends, he had a shitty job at bussing tables lined up for him and a comedy set he was working on putting together, and life was finally, finally good. Just for this one moment in time, things were just about perfect.

Eddie was breathing deeply now, apparently asleep as soon as his head had hit the pillow. Richie didn’t blame him. He was tired too, but just now, in this moment, he wanted nothing more than to enjoy exactly where he was.

And that was with Eddie.

—

#reddie #IT #it 2017 #drabble

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mitchmarnier · 5 years ago

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i took too many hits off this memory [i need to come down]

pairing: eddie kaspbrak/richie tozier [reddie] & beverly marsh/kay mccall [mcmarsh] rating: teen audiences and up chapter warnings: q slur, internalized homophobia, sexual content, word count: 4,777 chapter count: 2 of ? summary: Eddie Kaspbrak doesn’t remember much from his childhood. He doesn’t really know he doesn’t remember. He also doesn’t know why he’s so drawn this terrible comedian on tv, but when Eddie runs into him in a bar, and they spend the night together, Eddie’s life is changed forever. It’s finally back on track- and he doesn’t know anything about it

read on ao3. moodboard by @kaspzier

perma taglist: @jwilliambyers, @stebbins, @kaspzier, @s-s-georgie, @chaotickaspbrak, @eddiefuckinkaspbrak, @edstozler, @emgays, @anellope, @thorn-harvester-ven, @wheezyeds, @vipertooth, @tozierking, @billdenbrough, @sydinastans @itfandomprompts, @loserslibrary (let me know if you want added!)

TWO YEARS LATER

Eddie Kaspbrak cringed as the stench of the place hit his nose. He turned his face away and tried to discreetly press the sleeve of his sweater to face to ward it away. Kay McCall turned to face him and grabbed hold of his arm. “What have I been telling you?” She said sharply. “Stop passing judgement before you’ve experienced anything.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. In the two years since he’d walked away from his relationship with Myra- or more accurately, forced her to walk away from it- Eddie had grown to accept that part of him he was sure he’d been running away from since his youth. There were dim, blurry memories of being a kid with sweaty hands and a pounding heart but he could never touch them. Sometimes, in his dreams, Eddie was sure he did- but they were gone when he woke up, leaving only a vague feeling of yearning left behind.

He’d met Kay McCall nearly a year and a half earlier at the community center when Eddie had been having meetings to help with some ongoing mental health issues. It seemed that over decades of repression couldn’t just be turned off by coming out of the closet and ran much deeper. Kay had been an irreplaceable piece of Eddie’s self acceptance. Without her persistence that Eddie go out, that Eddie experience all these positive things, Eddie didn’t doubt for a second that he would have been sitting alone every weekend for the last two years.

And he hadn’t been, that was a beautiful thing. Eddie had gone out, he’d gone to clubs and bars and parades. He’d painted his body in neon colours and danced under black lights. He’d had a few short lived relationship with men Eddie would have allowed himself to look twice at before. Eddie had come to trust Kay blindly in every activity she suggested. Until tonight.

“I fucking hate comedians.”

“So you keep saying,” Kay said. “But you refuse to give me any sort of reasonable explanation to why that is, so I’ve chosen to continue to ignore you.”

Eddie shook his head, and scowled at the ground. He wasn’t entirely how to begin to explain his animosity towards comedians. How could he explain the broken, faded memory of a comedian, a hotel room and a name that always seemed to be on the tip of his tongue?

“I’m only doing this for your stupid date.” Eddie said stubbornly. “You say this girl is the real deal, and I’m choosing to believe you. This better be serious.”

Kay rolled her eyes. It was, of course. Eddie knew that Kay had had many partners since they’d become friends, some lasting for weeks and Eddie possibly even getting a name, but Kay had never - not once- invited Eddie to meet one of her girlfriends before now.

“I don’t know anything about this guy. I Googled him, he’s some white dude. Reggie or something. Very mixed reviews.” Kay said simply. “Beverly seems to think he’s the best thing that’s ever happened to comedy, and I’m letting her pick the date so here we are.”

Eddie raised his brow but knew better than to say anything. Kay grabbed Eddie by the arm and didn’t so much guide him through the crowd as yanked him. This was fine. This was used to and expected. What wasn’t expected was the soft, almost bashful smile when a short, redhead girl pushed her way through the crowd and ran up to them.

‘Hey,” she said, almost out of breath. She and Kay held long eye contact until Eddie cleared his throat. When Beverly turned and met Eddie’s gaze, his breath caught suddenly in his throat and he wondered for the first time in many years if he’d need to use his inhaler. Beverly’s eyes blew wide for a moment, her mouth opened then clapped back shut just as suddenly. She seemed to almost shake herself, then offered her hand out.

“Beverly.” She said with a sweet smile. “My friends can call me Bev.”

“Eddie.” Eddie shook her hand quickly, and Beverly didn’t say anything when Eddie immediately pulled a small bottle of hand sanitizer from his jeans pocket. “Tell me more about this bozo, but Kay is not convincing at all.”

“I understand the skepticism.” Beverly said as she draped an arm around Kay’s shoulders. Eddie watched for a moment and waited for Kay to shrug her touch off, but no rejective motion happened. “But trust me, this guy Richie is actually good. He’s come a long way in the last couple years, and I don’t know, he talks about chicks a lot but I get a bit of a gay vibe-”

Eddie’s hearing buzzed out, brain seemed to float right out of his ear and out of the bar. Richie… comedian… his heart was suddenly at risk of exploding right out of his chest. He pressed his hand against his hand to his chest, able to feel his heartbeat through his shirt and sweater. Blurry memory began to ring into focus.

“I fucking hate comedians.” Eddie lied under his breath. Nobody listened. They moved to their seats that was being held by a tall, thin man with blonde hair that seemed to already be balding at the top and an orange stain on his shirt. Eddie stopped and turned to the two women.

“I didn’t agree to a double date.” Eddie said sharply. “Especially not a blind, surprise double date.”

Beverly glanced away, biting at her thumb nail but Kay held Eddie’s gaze without a flinch. “Eddie. You haven’t been laid in what- four months? Just give him a chance.”

Eddie glanced back at his supposed date and watched as wiped snot from his nose on the sleeve of his hoodie. Eddie and Bev pulled mirrored looks of disgust. “Not fucking happening.”

“Sorry.” Beverly said quietly to him. “He was kind of the only person available and Kay didn’t tell me until tonight that she wanted a date for you and-”

“And you don’t have to fuck that guy, because he’s pretty disgusting.” Kay broke in with exasperation. Eddie glared at him. “But are you getting some tonight, I’m going to make sure of it.”

Eddie thought of how his stomach had been in butterflies since he’d heard Richie’s name, and how his face was still burning, and wasn’t so sure that was going to be an issue. The lights began to dim before Eddie could give any sort of response, negative or positive, and they all quickly moved to their seats. Eddie silently thanked a God he wasn’t sure he believed in that there wasn’t time to introduce him to the dirty date before the show began.

In complete honesty, Eddie couldn’t tell you much about the show itself. He thought at one point, he’d noticed that Richie’s jokes had gotten better than what he’d listened to years before but he didn’t have enough memory of the old stand up to be sure. It still wasn’t good by any means, but the crowd seemed to eat it up. He thought maybe Richie seemed a little more passionate, a little more comfortable, and that made a world of a different even with shitty dirty jokes.

“That guy was hilarious.” Eddie’s “date” said as he wiped the barbeque sauce from their chicken wings his hands on his jeans.

Eddie looked through the crowd at nothing, simply for an excuse to not look at the date he hadn’t bothered to learn the name of. In his haste to keep his eye line away, it took Eddie a moment to realize where it had landed. Not until he realized that he’d accidentally caught the eye of none other than Richie Tozier himself.

Eddie as good as vomited his heart up into his mouth when Richie winked at him. His stomach fluttered and he broke out into a cold sweat across the back of his neck. Richie whispered something to the shorter man by his side- a boyfriend? His manager, maybe- and then he was walking towards them.

“Heya, Eds.” Richie said with an easy grin. “Long time no see.”

Kay turned to Eddie with wide eyes, mouth half open, and Beverly had a confused frown on her face. Eddie wanted the Earth to open up and swallow him whole. “Yep.” Eddie said begrudgingly. “Richie, this is my best friend, Kay, and her friend Beverly.”

“Friend?” Richie challenged as he took and shook Kay’s hand.

She raised her brow at him. “Girlfriend.” She said angrily. “Is that a problem?”

Eddie pursed his lips to hide a smile as Richie let out a soft laugh. “Trust me, ladies. It is the opposite of a problem.”

Beverly gasped and slapped at Richie’s shoulder. “Hey, hey! Careful, Red!” Richie said, but he was laughing. “If security sees you knocking me around, it won’t be too good for you.”

Beverly just laughed at him. “I knew you were gay. I fucking knew it.” An odd expression came over Richie’s face then, and Eddie almost felt bad for him. “We gays have a sense about this. You’ll get there. It comes with coming out.”

Richie’s face blocked them out. “I’m out to the people who matter to me.”

“And portraying yourself as straight asshole for the world to see.” Beverly said with a shrug. “Sure, it’s funny and it sells, but don’t you think it would be more impactful if you were a gay comedian?”

“I AM a gay comedian.” Richie said sharply. “And if I started telling jokes about being gay and fucking men from bars, I’d be an unemployed gay comedian.”

“Hey.” Eddie said softly. His eyes were on Kay and Beverly, put he hoped that Richie could sense that the words he directed at them were for his benefits. “It’s not an easy thing to do. You should know not to push people.”

A silence settled over them, the buzz of the bar behind them, and Eddie began to fidget where he stood. Richie cleared his throat and scratched the back of his neck. “Listen-” he said, pursing his lips. “I’m supposed to go to some sort of big name after party now, stupid publicity garbage.”

Eddie tried not to feel disappointed, but Richie kept talking.

“But that’s not really my thing. I’ve never cared about publicity before.” Richie said with a grin. “So, I’ve got a bunch of better ideas. If you guys are down.”

Beverly’s eyes blew open wide. “For real? Are you serious?”

Richie reached out and pinched Eddie’s cheeks. “Course. Any friends of Eds are friends of mine.” Eddie swatted Richie’s hands away, stubbornly refusing to look at Kay despite how much of an effort she was putting into meeting his gaze.

“Well, hell yeah!” Kay said as she pushed on a dazed Beverly’s shoulders. “Let’s fucking go!”

“Let’s fucking go!” Richie repeated, looking at Kay with a mixture of awe and wariness. Richie wrapped an arm around Eddie’s waist and squeezed his hip once. Then let go quickly, gesturing wildly towards the back door. Richie walked towards it and Beverly began to immediately skip after him, her face light up like that of a child.

Kay turned slowly to Eddie, brows raised and a soft smirk settled on her lips. “So… does he have anything to do with you hating comedians?”

Eddie frowned. Did he? Eddie hadn’t thought about Richie Tozier since… well, probably since Richie had gotten on that plane in New York that same day. He had vague memories of meeting a guy in a bar who prompted his spilt from Myra, a weird twinge in his stomach that told him it was the best sex he’d ever had, but until tonight he hadn’t been able to put that memory to a face. But now? Yeah. That face was Richie Tozier. But Eddie didn’t hate that experience, not at all, it was a good one. A life changing one. Not one that prompted hatred or hard feelings.

“No.” Eddie said with a roll of his eye. “I hate comedians because they make their living being not funny about minorities and as a marginalized person,-”

“Alright.” Kay tossed an arm around Eddie’s shoulders and started guiding him towards the back door. “We all get it. You’re a big-time activist now, we did a good job with you, Kaspbrak. Now our next task is getting you to let your hair down.”

“My hair is always down.” Eddie said with a smile. Kay bounced on her toes and kissed him on the cheek. They pushed out the back door at Eddie’s mouth dropped open at the sight of the limo parked out back. Beverly was inside, her head poking out the sun roof. Richie was leaning against the car door, smoking.

“Hasn’t anybody ever told you those things will kill you?” Eddie asked, knowing his voice was all too cheerful. Richie looked up at him and grinned.

“With the lifestyle I live?” Richie asked with a wave of his head. “Something is going to kill me long before my smoking habits do.”

Eddie didn’t like the twinge that settled in his stomach at Richie’s joke and he forced a smile. Richie clasped Eddie on the shoulder and he helped usher Eddie into the back. Kay dove in after them, and Eddie found himself pressed right up against Richie’s side. He could feel the heat radiating off him and Eddie’s heart began to race in his chest. He fought the urge to lean up against him completely, telling himself that he needed to maintain at least the slightest hint of dignity in this situation.

Beverly kept her head out the sun roof for the first several minutes of the ride, and her hair was a bird’s nest when she dropped back inside, grinning from ear to ear. Eddie couldn’t help back grin back. “So where are we going?” Beverly asked, messing with her hair in a furitious attempt to tame the mess. “Never did tell us.”

Richie let out a long, exhale of smoke from the joint between his fingers and grinned lazily at her. “You get into car’s with strangers and it takes you nearly fifteen minutes to ask where they’re taking you?”

Beverly shrugged, still grinning. “I’d get in anybody’s limo, stranger or not.”

Richie shook his head, eyes half open. He offered the joint over to Eddie, who’s breath caught in his throat. “Oh, no, I have-”

“ASTHMA, ASSHOLE.” Eddie cried, smacking at Richie’s shoulders. Richie laughed, and fell backwards against the dirt and grass. They were sitting up at the top of the Quarry, feet dangling over the edges, as the sun went down in front of them. Richie had been working at a joint for the better part of a couple minutes, and Eddie had been choosing to ignore it until Richie had offered it over to him.

“I think we both know that you don’t.” Richie replied, and there was something all too appealing about Richie when he was high. Eddie supposed he always found Richie appealing, though he’d never admit it to another living, breathing human (and certainly not to Richie) but the way Richie almost seemed to turn into lower power mode when he was high just held Eddie’s interest so intensely. It was Richie he was still getting to know, barely beginning to understand. And that captivated him.

“Put that shit out.” Eddie demanded. “Put it out or I swear to God I’ll throw it over the edge.”

“Oh, really? And you’ll buy me more then.” Richie said and waggled his eyebrows. “For all you know, Eds, this could be all I’ve got left.”

“I don’t care how much you have!” Eddie cried. “And I would not be buying you more because it’s illegal and you shouldn’t even have this in the first place, you know? You know all about the health risks just as well as I do!”

“Nobody knows any health risks as well as you do, Eddie Kaspbrak.” Richie pointed out, before taking another hit of the joint. Eddie watched his lips intently as the smoke blew out through him and he tried to force his heart race to slow down. This was a new feeling for Eddie, over the last few months. Richie doing little things that made Eddie feel like he’d just run a marathon. It was harder to pretend that Richie Tozier didn’t affect him deeply.

“You know things people tell you about health is bullshit, though.” Richie continued, but Eddie was a little more focused on Richie’s fingers pulling on his own bottom lip as though he’d just remembered he had one. His legs and hands kept occasionally twitching and Eddie’s eyes followed the motion each time. “It’s just what the man wants you to think. Weed is good for us, and they want to keep it from us because they can’t make money off it.”

“You’re such a fucking a stoner, Rich, oh my God.” Eddie rolled his eyes but he couldn’t help the little giggles that were building up in his chest.

“So you really aren’t going to have any? Not even for me? Your bestest friend?” Richie held the joint out towards Eddie, and spending so much time with Richie, Stan and Beverly the smell of the weed didn’t bother him as much as it used to. That fact made him uneasy.

“Bestest isn’t a word.” Eddie replied, turning his eyes back to the sky.

Richie scoffed. “Oh, okay. Whatever. You aren’t gonna have any at all? Eddie? Eds? Ed-”

“Earth to Eddie!” Kay’s voice suddenly caught through his mind.

Eddie jumped in the seat, suddenly aware that the limo was moving and Richie was still holding the joint out in his direction. Eddie looked slowly over Richie’s face, his heart hammering in his chest and his brain reeling to find a grasp on reality. Real or not real. “What?” He asked, voice coming out almost a hoarse whisper.

“Do you want a hit?” Richie asked him lazily, the paper burning and wasting between his fingers has he watched Eddie.

“No, I have-” Eddie broke off again, brain buzzing inside his head and heart picking the pace back up.

Richie raised his eyebrows. “Have what?”

Eddie cleared his throat and reached his fingers out for Richie’s joint. “Nothing. Give it to me.” Richie handed it over willingly and as Eddie put the joint between his lips, something deep inside told him that this wasn’t his first time smoking weed.

Richie patted his back, and made soothing sounds as Eddie coughed and his chest burned. “It’s alright, dude. The more you cough, the higher you get.”

A familiar phrase. Familiar. A word that Eddie Kaspbrak would like to stop applying to Richie Tozier, because it never failed to make him feel on edge. Before Eddie could feel anything besides the tightness in his chest, the limo was suddenly taking a left and skidding across something that felt much more like dirt than any real road.

“Where are we going?” Beverly asked, from where she’d draped herself across Kay’s lap once returning inside from the sun roof. Eddie thought that maybe this weed was laced with something, because there was no way Kay McCall was just letting some girl lay in her lap and there was zero possibility that she was actually running her fingers through the girl’s long red hair. And yet-

“We’re not going anywhere.” Richie said with a grin. He popped the back door of the limo open before the vehicle had slowed to a complete stop, and Eddie rested his head against the seat of the limo to watch him. “We’re already here.”

Eddie tumbled out the limo on Richie’s tail, with Kay and Beverly following and whispering behind them. Eddie squinted out the darkness around him, unaware that he was leaning against Richie’s side. “Central Park after dark? So you’ve taken us here to be murdered?”

Richie let out a little awkward half-laugh, hand unconsciously going to spread around the small of Eddie’s back. “Nothing so sinister as that.” Richie said. “Just that most of the times I’ve spent in New York have been spent in a bar or in a hotel room.”

Eddie’s face burned, but even more than embarrassment over Richie speaking of the night they’d spent together, Eddie felt a weird sense of jealousy of the verbal acknowledgment of other people being with Richie like he had been. Before him, and worse, after him. Eddie knew perfectly well that he couldn’t be mad that Richie had slept with people before they’d met, and he had even less right to be mad about Richie may or may not had slept with after their literal one night stand. He had been the one to say no, to go home and ignore what he’d also felt.

Eddie shivered almost violently as he walked through the grass, knowing it was getting his shoes wet and likely ruining them completely. Oh well, Richie’s career was starting to really take off- Eddie could bill him for new shoes. Something fancy and expensive no doubt. He could afford it.

Arms wrapped around Eddie’s middle and he startled as he looked down at Kay, who grinned back up at him. “Oh, Miss Kay gets cuddly when high? Nice to know.”

She laughed, and squeezed Eddie’s middle until he coughed then released him. She turned away and moved over to Beverly, taking her back the face and kissing her deeply. Eddie frowned awkwardly to himself, and turned back towards the dark park. He felt Richie walk up beside him but he didn’t turn to look at him.

“You know, it’s kind of weird.” Richie said, but he wasn’t looking at Eddie either. “Until I saw you tonight, I don’t think I even remembered you. Which makes me sound like an absolute monster, but-”

“Nah, don’t worry about it.” Eddie said lightly. “I didn’t remember you, either. At least not… specifically. I remembered an intense dislike for comedians, but it wasn’t you that I remembered. Until your show started at least.”

Richie snorted and took a drag of a cigarette. Eddie watched the smoke flow through the dark, and tried to pretend he thought it was gross rather than attractive. “Don’t know why you’re walking around hating comedians. You’re the one who ripped my heart out at an airport, all I did was give you some sweet, sweet loving.”

Eddie made a rough noise at the back of his throat. “You sprialled my entire gay crisis and prompted me to have to change my entire life. I think I deserve a little bit of resentment here, man.”

“Man, I met you at a gay bar. I don’t think I started anything. You were already on your way there yourself.” Richie laughed. “Besides, don’t you feel better now? Rather than marrying some chick because you thought you had to, and playing the role of some straight husband when you were really miserable and craving some good dick. I think you owe me a thank you, actually.”

Eddie shook his head and finally turned to Richie. “You’re right. Thank you, Trashmouth, for being just hot enough that I confessed fully to myself that I wanted to suck dick.”

Richie grinned at him. “Well, you’re here with me now, aren’t you? There must be something about me you like. Besides the fact that I have a dick.”

“You also have a limo, and I didn’t have anything better to do tonight.” Eddie said slowly, letting the words roll off his tongue. Richie continued to look at him, head tilted with a goofy smile on his face. “Did it… I’m not going to apologize for not getting on a plane with a stranger that day. I still think I made the right call.”

“Yeah, you probably did.” Richie said slowly. “I knew that even as you did it, but Eds… God, I still can’t shake the feeling that I knew you. That we’re somehow supposed to meet.”

Eddie didn’t say anything, keeping his eyes on Richie as Richie dropped his cigarette and crushed into the ground. Eddie didn’t even lecture him on the littering, waiting for Richie to finish whatever train of thought he was going down. “And what are the odds that your best friend would just so happen to drag you to see that comedian who asked you to drop your life for him two years ago? On the one night I performed at a small bar for nearly a year. Come on, that can’t be coincidence, Eds.”

“You’re a believer in the universe, I admire that.” Eddie said dryly. “You’ll ask a stranger to run away with you after one night. It’s sweet and it’s insane. Sometimes coincidences do exist.”

Richie looked at him, face suddenly somber. He reached out and took Eddie’s hand in his. Eddie tried to ignore the electric shock it sent running through him. “It’s not just any stranger, you know. There’s something about you, Eddie Kaspbrak. And I think, for you, there’s something about me, too.”

“Maybe.” Eddie agreed. “But I still don’t know you, you don’t know me. Our lives are so different, it’s like we have anything in common or even live on the same side of the country. We ran into each other twice in two years. That’s not exactly some great romance story.”

“It could be if we let it be.” Richie said wistfully. “But don’t fret, Eds. I’m not asking you to run away with me this time. I tried that, but it didn’t work. I don’t offer up potentially life changing decisions to the same dude twice, no matter how drawn I am to him.”

For whatever reason, disappointment settled itself in Eddie’s stomach. He’d already worked himself up, gotten himself ready to tell Richie no, and to find that Richie wasn’t going to ask was a let down. Why he wanted Richie to ask him, he had no idea. Probably the same reason he had no idea why he was more comfortable around Richie Tozier than he was around people he’d known most of his life.

Richie turned around and grinned at Kay and Beverly, who were running through the park fountain. “You’ve got a good thing going here. Much better than last time I met you. Good people in your life. You shouldn’t turn your back on that, and I don’t even want you, too. Like you said- you don’t even know me. And maybe I don’t know you. But they-” he gestured to Eddie’s friends. “They’re good people. Keep them around.”

“I plan to.” Eddie said, throat suddenly dry. “You’re good people, too, Rich.”

Richie turned to look at him, a soft smile on his face. “Thought you said you didn’t know me.”

Eddie shrugged one shoulder. “I’m good at reading people. You put on some big show, but you’re the kind of person who’d stopped to pet a cat no matter how late he was running… and he believes in romance. Soulmates. You’ll find yours, Richie. Someday.”

Richie let out a loud sigh as something in his suit pocket started beeping loudly. He rolled his eyes. “My team has officially realized that I haven’t made it back to my hotel yet. They’ve got me on a tight lease these days.” He held his hand out and Eddie took it without a second thought. “Hey, ladies! If you want a ride back, let’s move it.”

Beverly and Kay stumbled into limo, giggling, and Eddie tried to ignore their kisses as Eddie gave Richie the directions to Kay’s apartment- and Richie gave the directions to his driver. It wasn’t a super far drive, the streets of New York surprisingly calm as they drove through. Eddie kept his eyes trained out the window, and his hand resting on Richie’s bouncing knee.

He watched Beverly and Kay tumble back out of the limo outside Kay’s apartment and moved to follow them, but Richie’s hand wrapped around his wrist. Eddie turned back to him, and his heart fluttered as Richie leaned forward and tucked a piece of paper into the front pocket of Eddie’s jeans.

“If you ever find yourself wondering about the universe,” Richie said, his voice cracking through a dry throat. “Give me a call. I think I’ll be seeing you again, Eddie Kaspbrak.”

Eddie reached out, cupped the side of Richie’s face and kissed him deeply. He let their foreheads press together for a moment before pulling back and climbing out of the limo. He watched the limo drive off until it completely disappeared from view.

#reddie #reddie fic #my writing #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #rip my tag list getting these spams i'm sorry #memories #i should have paced these out but fuck u

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writeyourownlifestory · 4 years ago

Text

Lights Up

Chapters: 5/20 Fandom: IT Rating: M Warnings: No warnings at this time Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Beverly Marsh/Ben Hanscom Additional Tags: PunkRocker!Eddie, Writer!Richie, Beveddie!Friendship, No Clown Written by: myself & @ahardlife Tag list: @richietoaster, @beproudtozier, @that-weird-girls-blog, @s-onora, @s-s-georgie, @bellarosewrites, @iamcupcakefrosting, @reddieonwheels, @ghostnebula, @madidraw @madi-main, @gazebobullshit, @thoughtfullyyoungduck, @airbenderking

Puff piece writer Richie Tozier is given the chance of a lifetime to interview his celebrity crush: Dr. K, the lead singer of punk rock band, Trashmouth. Dr. K is about to release his first solo album and Richie wants to get all the dirty details. But all is not what it appears to be and the two realize they know each other from a different time, in a different place, when they were both very different people.

Chapters one, two, three, four

Still Into You - Paramore

I should be over all the butterflies but I'm into you, I'm into you And even baby our worst nights I'm into you, I'm into you Let 'em wonder how we got this far, 'Cause I don't really need to wonder at all Yeah, after all this time I'm still into you

Richie went back home with more than half of his questions unasked but full of hope. Hope that Eddie wanted to see him again. Hope that Eddie wanted to answer his questions. It felt weird, but good, to have him back.

Fuck, his therapist would surely have a stroke right now if he knew that the progress they had made went right down the drain. Oh fuck it, he paid him big time so he could do with what he learned whatever he liked.

And what did he do to distract himself from Eddie? Well, edit Dr. K’s interview all night. It was still weird, not separating Dr. K from Eddie. They were so different but at the same time, he couldn’t deny it. Under the eyeliner and dark clothes, there was still that guy with a soft smile he thought he would never see again. The boy that haunted his dreams night after night.

Fuck.

He was spiraling down again, wasn’t he? Maybe he needed to call his therapist and book an appointment after all these years. First thing in the morning.

He fell asleep around four on top of his computer, without even realizing it, so when he heard the doorbell rang, he was surprised he wasn’t in his bed. Confused and still half asleep, he went to answer. Whoever it was, he was going to have to bear with his bad breath, messy hair and pajamas, which consisted of a pair pickle rick pajama bottoms -yes, he was a thirty-year-old man, thank you- and an old Trashmouth shirt, his first one (and he was proud that it still fits.) Thank god Eddie wasn’t there to see that.

But Richie’s life was a mess and he left his luck forgotten in his mother’s womb, so when he opened the door, there he was, dressed as simply as the day before, but with a cap and glasses on, Eddie, a.k.a. Dr. K, in all his glory.

“I was in the neighborhood.” The man said with a smirk, lowering his glasses down to squint at the wrinkled shirt Richie was wearing. “Is that mine?”

“What? No, it’s mine.” Richie told him outright.

“I meant my band, dumbass.” Eddie chuckled.

Richie had halfway forgotten he was even wearing the thing, mostly because he had so many graphic tees and band shirts that they all got mixed up whenever he’d pull something on to sleep in. He shook his head, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hand. “What’s up, dude?” He asked, his voice heavy as he tried to come off as casual as possible.

“Told you. I was in the neighborhood.” Eddie mentioned with a shrug. “Mind if I come in?”

Richie always imagined this sort of thing. Well, kind of. He didn’t expect a rockstar to just show up on his doorstep. If anything, they’d meet at a stage door or a bar and he’d go back to the millionaires home, but instead, he was here. Wanting to come into his shitty apartment. It felt like something that came right out of a fanfic site.

Except this wasn’t just some rockstar. This was fucking Eddie.

Eddie who used to babble on and on about how dirty Richie’s carpet was, and how he never made his bed, and always left his clothes on the food. And honestly, it was the same shit except Richie had hardwood floors that could honestly use a polishing.

Regardless though, it wasn’t like Richie could tell him no.

So he stepped aside and allowed him to enter his apartment, wishing he had been given a heads up so he could have gotten dressed and clean up. However, Richie didn’t always get what he wanted in life. If he did, he wouldn’t be the miserable bastard he was today.

Eddie entered the home, looking around casually before turning back to Richie, finally removing the cap and sunglasses.

“If you wanted to blend in, you should have worn the polo and track shorts. Could have looked like every other dad in Whole Foods.” Richie mentioned to him, going to lean against the island, once again hoping to pull off the casual look.

“You shop at Whole Foods?” Eddie asked with a raised brow.

Richie didn’t reply. He shopped. Sometimes. Mostly ate out, because he could afford it, and anything he had at home was microwavable. And there was nothing wrong with that, at least to him.

“So um, what’s with the haircut?” He asked instead.

Eddie laughed shortly, caught off guard. “What?”

“You cut your hair. You used to have like, all the flowy locks and shit,” Richie gestured to his hair, which wasn’t that long or flowy but was a lot longer Eddie’s newest hair cut. It was similar to what he used to wear when they were kids, back when Eddie’s mom was in charge of how he wore his style.

“Oh. Just wanted something different.” He admitted. “New album. New me, right?” Eddie paused, raising a brow to Richie. “Is it bad?”

“What? No! No, no.” Richie shook his head quickly. “It looks great! Amazing, honestly. I mean, you went from looking like a seventies twink to like, a modern twunk.”

“What the actual fuck is a twunk?”

“A twinky hunk. Or hunky twink. You’re small but strong. Like . . . a bossy bottom.”

“Did you just call me a bottom?” Eddie asked, sounding more amused than offended.

“Are you? Wait, are you...are you still into...you know.”

“Richie, I write songs about fucking men, are you seriously asking me if I’m still gay?”

Richie paused, shifting from one leg to the other. He rubbed his hands together nervously, unable to what to say. He didn’t want to put his foot in his mouth or anything else. “I mean. I don’t know. Still trying to find out the difference between Dr. K and Edward Kaspbrak.”

“I think I’m trying to find out the differences too,” Eddie admitted somberly, going to lean across from Richie. “But, for a starter, whether it’s Eddie or Dr. K. We’re both gay. You of all people should know that.”

“Kids do stupid things when they’re, well, kids.” Richie shrugged.

“Hiding inside the standpipe was stupid,” Eddie told him carefully. “Going down to the quarry or jumping off the edge into that disgusting water was stupid. What we did wasn’t stupid, Rich.”

Richie didn’t know if he wanted to talk about it. They should. They had to. How could they not? They went from strangers to friends, to best friends, to boyfriends, and then to strangers again so quickly that even after all these years Richie was still dealing with the whiplash.

They didn’t do anything more than a kiss. Fuck, they didn’t even fully makeout. They were fucking thirteen years old. The first time Richie even talked about touching his dick, Eddie called him gross and made him double wash his hands before hanging out.

They were young, but they knew what they wanted and they knew the world wouldn’t fully understand them. They were alone together in this big, dark, scary place, but that was fine. Richie was okay because he knew he wasn’t suffering in silence. He had Eddie and Eddie had him.

And then they have pulled apart and Richie didn’t know how to cope. He had to pay hundreds upon hundreds of dollars for a therapist just to be able to say ‘I’m gay’ out loud.

And now here he was, talking about the sexuality of his favorite rockstar, with his favorite rockstar, who also happens to be or at least was, his favorite person too.

What a clusterfuck. People should write a book about it. Maybe make it a soap opera.

“What about you?” Eddie asked with a raised brow. “Did you switch sides in the past few years?”

“I met a girl at one of your concerts and threw up on her when she touched my dick,” Richie admitted in a blunt ramble. “Safe to say, I’m into dudes.”

It wasn’t the worst night of his life. Close, but he’d give that to any time in High school, but overall, the night he attempted to hook up with a girl wasn’t the most shining moment in Richie’s existence. He already knew that he enjoyed guys, but he thought if he could convince himself that he also liked girls that he’d be okay. That he could get away with not having to pretend.

College-Richie wasn’t the brightest, all right?

He drank and got turned on by watching the lead singer of this new punk rock band and let some girl flirt with him. They made their way into the bathroom and made out, which wasn’t terrible despite the stickiness of her lip gloss and the sweet smell of her perfume giving him a headache.

Her breasts were soft and that was pretty off-putting, but he ignored it cause his dick was hard. And then she pushed her skinny fingers into his jeans and wrapped them around his dick and suddenly Richie turned into Linda Blair all over her.

She wasn’t horrible about it. Like, she didn’t scream or anything. She just walked away from him and that was fine. It was better that way.

Richie went back to his dorm and screamed into his pillow, falling asleep to the first Trashmouth album.

“Oh buddy,” Eddie whispered. The way that you’d say when you realize how pathetic something is, but you don’t want to make the person feel even worse about themselves.

“It’s fine,” Richie said, squinting his eyes shut. He hadn’t grabbed his glasses and the world was just a bit fuzzy. “I’m fine now. Gay as a three dollar bill and all that shit.”

“I think it’s ‘queer as a three dollar bill.’” Eddie mentioned to him.

“Regardless, it’s what I am. In and out of Maine.”

“I won’t tour there,” Eddie said suddenly. “Wasn’t exactly ideal. The label tried to make me go but I refused to go on. I guess I got a rep for being a diva or whatever, but I won’t go back to that place.”

“You never told me how you go out,” Richie mentioned.

“Right.” Eddie sighed. “I guess you’ve earned my tragic backstory.”

“I was there for it asshole. At least partly.” He straightened and stretched, scratching at his five o'clock shadows. “Lemme get dressed. Get my glasses. We can talk.”

“You should keep the shirt on. It looks good on you.”

“Glad to know you still like being on top of me, Eds.” Richie fired back, making his way into his bedroom.

He returned not long after; actual clothes on this time around. Jeans and a plain tee shirt. Nothing fancy or anything with Eddie’s face on it. He had his glasses on this time around, though he partially wished he didn’t.

When he walked back out, Eddie was standing in the corner, looking at the shrine that Richie had made to all the celebrities that had changed his life. Dr. K, of course, was at the forefront and now he was here, staring at it.

“Oh fuck.”

“It’s nice,” Eddie told him, his eyes remaining on the picture. “I’m honored.”

“Listen. Lemme just get this out right now. I went through some dark shit and your music, I don’t know if it’s just you or the whole band, but it helped me a lot, okay?” Richie rushed to explain; he just wanted Eddie to stay and not run out scared that he was just another crazed fan who wanted to keep a lock of his hair in a book or something.

“You don’t have to explain anything, Rich.” Eddie interrupted him carefully. “It’s . . . well, the band is good. They’re great guys, but I did the writing. I . . . I ended up becoming a star by accident, I guess.” Eddie admitted, moving deeper into the room and going to sit on the couch. “I was at school and took up music as an elective. I took up the guitar because it always seemed interesting. A buddy of mine had a band. I invited me to go and play with them for a while. After one show he got too drunk to go on and I ended up being the lead singer and guitarist. Some big wig for the music industry ended up being there. He likes my style and asked me to play with this group of guys who needed a singer and that’s that.”

“I always thought you had a nice voice,” Richie mentioned going to sit across from him, knees bent as he leaned against the arm of the couch. “Then again, singing along to Whitney in your bedroom and selling out Madison Square Garden isn't the same thing.”

“This break up. It’s not a breakup, with Trashmouth.” Eddie admitted gently. “Those guys are like brothers to me. But they have wives and families and shit. We’ve been doing this for almost ten years nonstop. They’ve missed a lot. They wanna take a break and I respect that.”

“You don’t wanna take a break?”

Eddie shrugged easily. “I’m not married. I don’t have kids. Shit, I don’t even have a dog. I think if I took a break I might lose my mind with boredom.”

“You could get a dog,” Richie suggested.

“I’d love to but seeing as I am homeless at the moment.”

“ Homeless! ?” Richie spits out. “Dude, you’re worth millions, how the fuck are you homeless?”

“My place is being worked on. Being demolished. Hated the way it looked so I’m having it remade, though the contractor I am dealing with is a real dickhead.”

“Is that why you’re at the fancy-schmancy hotel?” Richie asked with a raised brow.

“Beverly’s place is too small and I still have a penthouse in New York, but we’re recording here in LA so it’s not like I can go back and forth.”

“We have a guy that we featured in the magazine a year ago that might be able to help you out. He’s an architect and we sort of put his name on the map so he owes us one. I could give him a call for you.”

“You don’t have to do that Rich,” Eddie waved him off.

“Well call it even after that time you stole that comic book from Keenes for me,” Richie mentioned, digging into his pocket for his cell phone.

He texted Bill, requesting the number of Ben Hanscom as well as mentioning he needed an extension on the expośe on Dr. K, going to snap a pic of him on the couch to send to Bill as proof that he wasn’t lazing off.

“You sure you don’t want me to sign that for you?” Eddie asked with a playful smirk, gesturing to the picture of him on the wall.

“Of fuck off,” Richie scoffed as he finished writing the text.

“You could sell it! Make good money out of it,” Eddie suggested with a shrug.

“Okay, keep talking, Eds,” Richie smirked. “But no. It was your first magazine spread and now it has a hell of a lot more value knowing it’s you. My little Eddie Spaghetti.”

Eddie groaned and threw his head back in fake frustration. “Jesus, I was enjoying living without those annoying nicknames of yours, Trashmouth.”

“You know, every time I remember you named your band after me, I get reminded that you owe me royalties. How curious, huh?” Richie teased him with a slight smirk. “No, but really, I wouldn’t sell it for anything.”

“I’m glad you like it. The shoot was a nightmare. I didn’t know what to do with myself.” Eddie admitted with a shrug. “That was when I first got into the whole Dr. K persona and I was trying to work out the kinks of it all.”

“Oooh, Dr. K has kinks, huh? Sexy.”

Eddie hummed, saying no more. “I should probably get going.” He mentioned, at last, making a movement that seemed like he was forcing himself up.

Richie followed him to the door, going to lean against the frame after he opened it. “It’s so surreal, you know? Having you back here.”

He never imagined having Eddie back into his life, let alone having him in his life in the form of his idol.

“Well, I don’t plan on going anywhere,” Eddie told him, that boyish smile and the glimmer in his eyes doing wonderful things to Richie’s heart, stomach, and well, dick.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Richie mentioned, watching as Eddie pulled the baseball cap back onto his head and shoved the sunglasses back onto his face. Back to the disguise to keep him from the people on the street.

Richie didn’t live in a super busy neighborhood, though it was better to be safe than sorry. Richie offered a lame wave as Eddie walked off, leaving him alone in his apartment again.

#Lights Up #Reddie #Reddie AU #rock star au #it #it au #it chapter 2

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b-rainlet · 5 years ago

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Just out of curiosity who do you picture as the bodyguard? and who do you picture as the person needing guard? and for what reason?.

Funny that you ask! Not like I spend 8 hours daydreaming about this and getting so excited that I set up the post to be as unspecific as possible so someone would ask me about this! (I did but that’s besides the point)

Both possibilities work very well.

In both cases Reggie is some eccentric billionaire guy who adopted (a) kid(s) to inherit his wealth. Probably does some investment stuff that I am too gay to understand.

Possibility A: Reggie adopts a son. Diego. But Diego doesn’t wanna play nice and has no interest in meeting up with some old dudes to talk about politics and lick their conservative boots. He’d rather go out and party, blow some (most) of his money on alcohol and pretty girls.

(He’s a little fuckboy lmao)

Cue Reggie’s most loyal Guard, normally responsible for walking patrol around the house at night - and the only guy Diego can’t bribe so he doesn’t tell his Dad when he tries sneaking in again past curfew. Diego hates that guy a little.

Reggie instructs him with watching over his idiot son before he gets himself killed and Reggie has to look for another person to continue his empire.

(No one knows why Reginald hasn’t just thrown Diego out??? Let’s just say he’s old and soft for his quasi son - at least in this AU)

So now you have Luther following Diego like a shadow, trying to keep him out of trouble (breaking up fights Diego picks on purpose, driving away shady guys, treating Diego like a ‘damsel in distress’) and you have Diego, trying his damn best to get rid of Luther.

(Except during those weird moments when he catches Luther’s eye and Luther looks away like he did something wrong, like he was caught staring. What’s even weirder is Diego’s desire to look away too, cheeks pink and hands sweating).

But of course it’s unethical to fall in love with someone you’re paid to protect so Luther decidedly doesn’t talk about that one time he crowded Diego into a bathroom stall at some rich prick’s party and kissed him silly and Diego decidedly doesn’t care.

(He cares a lot but that’s not the point. Luther isn’t supposed to know how much he cares).

So now there’s added sexual tension and it’s awful on both of them. So awful in fact that Luther barges into Diego’s room to declare that he quit his job and smooch the protests right from Diego’s mouth before he can get it wrong and work himself up over it.

(The new bodyguard is good but strict. They don’t let Luther sleep over so Diego keeps sneaking out only this time it’s so he can cuddle with his boyfriend instead of partying).

Possibility B: Reggie has some (biological? No ones sure where they come from actually) children. Luther and Vanya.

But it’s Luther who will inherit everything, as the son and older one of the two.

This time it’s not so much about keeping Luther out of trouble but more about actually protecting him. He doesn’t need a babysitter because he rarely ever leaves his room to party and ‘go wild’ but because he’s so used to his sheltered life he’s at a higher risk off being taken advantage of or kidnapped or killed or whatever else.

And lately he’s been following after Vanya, insisting on watching over his baby sister but his baby sister has taken a liking to a. hanging out in extremely shady places and b. is not the one Reggie worries couldn’t handle herself.

So that’s where Diego comes in. Thrown out of the police academy but with enough experience in hand to hand combat and a knack for knives he figures the job can’t be too bad. Also, he desperately needs the money.

Luther is nice enough, polite and well-mannered but sometimes Diego has the intense urge to slap him because how can someone be so naive.

“They seemed like nice people.” - “They tried to rob you!” - “They were really polite about it though.”

How Luther managed to get this far in life is beyond Diego. He takes uncovered drinks, blurts out his full name and address without prompting, befriends everyone, no matter how shady they seem and is just a general hazard to himself.

And then instead of staying home and working on his adorable little poems - that Diego will read one day, no matter how much Luther protests, it’s kinda his duty to get all up in Luther’s business anyway - they have to hang around in bars Diego would never ever set foot in otherwise, just because Vanya is there, having the time of her life (and probably a mental breakdown. Looks pretty similar).

“You know, if you’re so worried about your baby sis, why don’t you pay someone to look after her? Something like - hmm, let me think about it - a bodyguard.” - “She refuses to have one. Gets rid off all of them one way or another.”

“Why?”

Turns out some crazy stalker pretended to be a trained bodyguard so he could get close to Vanya, make her fall for him. And he got lucky.

And then he proceeded to spilll every single dirty secret Vanya ever told him to every tabloid that would listen to him, just because Reggie double-crossed him once, or something. Pathetic.

So Vanya decided to just not give a fuck anymore, to lurk around in places no one will care who she is or isn’t and swore to never ever let anyone ‘look out for her’ again.

“And that’s why we’re here.”

And yeah, maybe this Leonard is the biggest creep in existence but Luther being so adamant about protecting his sister and so angry about what happened to her - “I liked that guy, Diego, I congratulated her on her catch!” - makes something inside Diego’s chest swell and maybe he can’t look at Luther for the rest of the evening.

“Patch, you’re still doing your detective business, right?” - “What do you need?”

Diego convinces Patch to do some “simple person observation, easy a pie” for him, so Luther doesn’t worry that much anymore.

Patch is his oldest friend, they grew up in the same orphanage before Patch got adopted and Diego...didn’t. They briefly dated but figured they’re more like family. Weird, unusual Family who roast each other on the daily but would also die for each other in a heartbeat.

“What’s in it for you?” - “See you’d do me a huge favour, it would be less work for me, watching over two people is tedious-” - “Diego.”

“.....I would have more free time?” - “You mean more alone time with the brother.” - “.....Maybe.”

“Falling in love with your employer? Classy.” - “His father pays me! And it’s not like I didn’t walk in on you fingering your clients on more than one occasion!” - “Touché”

To wrap this up before I get too into it: Patch watches over Vanya “discreetly” - which means that Vanya immediately spots her and starts flirting with her, hoping for a fling. Then Diego blows it completely by admitting that he knows Patch and yeah, that’s a bit shitty of him.

(In his defense, the bar was really crowded and Luther was leaning down into his space and whispering something in his ear, hand wrapped around Diego’s bicep and his brain kinda short circuited, so sue him for yelling Patch’s name when he saw her walk up to them with Vanya).

Long story short they sort of end up on a double date and everything seems good for a while and thanks to Patch, Diego can lure Luther to go on dates with him he denies are dates. Well, at least until Luther says “I hope this was a date because I really wanna kiss you right now.” that’s when Diego inists on those meet ups being the date-iest dates to date.

......But of course it all goes to shit.

See, Patch likes Vanya and she really doesn’t want this to be built on a lie so she admits that she actually has the job to watch over Vanya and Vanya...doesn’t take it well.

Luther also doesn’t take it well as soon as he figures out that Diego was the one initiating this.

“I told you she has trust issues! And you just go and lie to her face? To my face?? Make her fall for someone who’s lying to her the whole time - again.”

They break up before they go on their third date, so maybe it’s not really a break up but Diego feels like it is. In fact, he feels like utter shit.

So the next few weeks are just full of Vanya and Luther watching romcoms together and binging on ice cream, while Patch and Diego get shit faced together and trash talk people until fights break out.

(By the end of it they have to resort to drinking at home because they’re banned from all their usual bars).

I’m not further in my musings about this but somehow they all make up and end up gay and happy. Tada!

Also just for the hell of it, I desperately want someone chatting up Luther in both AUs and Diego being unreasonably jealous - because it’s not like they’re dating, not at all - and insisting that this person is bad news, either in a “Trust me, I’m your bodyguard” way or in a “I feel unsafe and you’re here to protect me, aren’t you?” way.

Well....this got long, lmao

#luego #bodyguard au

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omilove · 6 years ago

Text

Stud-Chapter 1

Hope you guys enjoy!

Warnings: Future smut (I mean literal sin)

Co-writer: @livingtheoklife

Chapter One

Brian…

Poor Brian was a freshly out of the closet college student who was friends with the most open homosexual couple at their university. Freddie Mercury an Imperial art student and John Deacon an electronics student at Chelsea College. For the longest time, Brian was just the poodle that trailed behind them both, being the third wheel. Now, Freddie refuses to let Brian third wheel after he came out to Deaky and Freddie. So now on this rainy Thursday evening, Brian was being pushed toward a bar. The bright sign outside the door read “Innuendo”. Brian prayed that this was just a pub, that they were just going to get a few drinks and then go home. Freddie approached the bouncer.

“Welcome back boys. Go on in.” The bouncer said. Freddie and Deaky were making their way in, Brian keeping his head down but the bouncer stopped him.

“Password?” He asked. Brian looked up at Freddie and Deaky who left him behind.

“Eh... I’m with Freddie.” Brian mumbled.

“He didn’t mention you bud so again password?” Brian was shaking like a leaf in autumn. He was about to turn around and call a cab but a familiar blond stepped up next to him. The bouncer opened the door for the stranger but the blond leaned in, “For further reference mate, the password is Misfire.” He shot a quick wink before walking inside the bar. He looked up at the bouncer who was holding the door open.

“I..I didn’t say the password?”

“You don’t need to. If Rogerina talks to you then you are welcomed in.” Brian was slightly confused but he didn’t let the offer drift off into the air. He quickly walked into the bar where he was surrounded by shirtless men galore. He felt his face quickly heat up at the sight. He was glued to the spot until he noticed Freddie, sitting at the bar with his lover. He quickly made his way over, keeping his gaze on the floor.

“There you are Bri! Where did you wander off to?” Deaky asked.

“You guys left me outside.” He mumbled his response.

“What did you say, dear, the music is quite loud?” Brian scuffed, dismissing the question. He ordered a drink before sitting on a stool next to Freddie.

“So why are we here again Fred?” Brian asked.

“You should find someone dear. Get some experience in this new world!” He exclaimed.

“He also wants you to meet one of his friends from school.” Deaky said. Brian just nodded and continued to sip on his mixed drink. Brian used this time to locate the highlighted areas, the bathroom, all the exits, the stage. After a few minutes had gone by he looked over at Freddie and Deaky, both talking to the bartender.

“Freddie, when am I meeting this friend of yours? I’d really like to go home.” Freddie glanced up to the clock, “He has his performance in about 2 minutes. We can sit at the bar or try to go up by the stage?” Freddie asked.

“I’d prefer to just stay where I’m at.” Brian said.

“Ok love.”

With Freddie’s exact timing the lights around the pub dimmed and the pole in the center of the stage was surrounded by bright lights. A figure moved toward the pole but he couldn’t get a good view until they stepped into the light. There was a girl at the pole in a slutty schoolgirl outfit, Brian was confused.

‘Isn’t this a gay bar?’ He asked himself. Both Deaky and Fred turned to look at the stage.

“Fred, I thought this was a gay bar? Why is there a girl dancing at the pole.” Freddie choked on his drink before he started laughing hysterically. Deaky, who was trying to keep his cool was also laughing.

“What? I’m serious!”

“Bri have you ever heard of Drag?” Deaky asked.

“No.”

“Oh, this is going to be an event. That up there is the all famous Ms. Rogerina. Also known as Roger Taylor, a guy.” It finally clicked in Brian’s head.

“Ohh.”

“Just watch the show dear. You may enjoy it.” Freddie winked at him before watching Rogerina. Brian turned his focus on the performance on stage. He watched as she moved around the pole, her skirt flying up in an attempt to tease the crowd. Brian couldn’t deny that it was a very hot performance but the drag part of the performance was still confusing to him.

A few songs and strip teases later her performance was done. Freddie and Deaky both stood whistling and clapping.

“Let’s go meet her backstage!” Freddie exclaimed, grabbing both Deaky and Brian. Both men were quickly dragged through the backstage door to where the blonde was sitting.

“Darling that was an amazing performance!” Freddie grabbed her hand and kissed it.

“Great performance.” Deaky added. Brian was stuck in place, he had no idea what to say. Does he introduce himself, tell him about how great his performance was, or tell him how hot and bothered he was during that whole performance. Instead, he didn’t say anything but just stared at her. She faced Brian, walking over to him.

“Now, who's this? Oh, wait...I remember I got you in.” She said twirling a piece of Brian’s hair with her finger, ”What's your name, stud?” Brian looked up at Deaky and Freddie as an escape but both had a shitty smirk on their faces. He looked back down, he glanced into the sharp blue eyes in front of him but couldn’t hold the gaze. He darted his eyes to the floor before responding.

“I..um..I’m Brian.” He whispered his entire face red. She turned to look at Freddie.

“So this is the famous Brian you've been telling me about, you are right though, Fred dear, he is as handsome as you say.” She looked back at Brian, a smirk on her face. “It's nice to meet you, Brian.” She placed a kiss on Brian’s cheek, before turning on her heels making her way back the mirror. Brian felt like he was going to pass out from the amount of blood flowing to his head.

“I'll make sure to put this stud on the all-access list, I would like to see your sexy face more often.” She winked at him.

“This really isn’t my scene.” Brian whispered.

“You learn to love it.” She rested a hand on Freddie’s shoulder, “Closet case or a freshie?” She asked Fred. He had zero clue what she was asking but could only assume it is about him.

“Fresh out, about a week or two now.” Freddie responded, staring at the small blonde next to him.

“That's what I thought.” She giggled, ”Well I have to get back on the floors, drink duty tonight!” She finished touching up her makeup before skipping over to the backstage door.

“See yah later Freddie, Deaky, and it was a pleasure meeting you stud.” And like that she was gone out the door.

“You alright Bri?” Deaky asked.

“Can we go get a drink.” He croaked out. The other two boys giggled before they locked their arms with Brian’s and made there way back out to the bar.

They were back at their spot at the bar. Freddie requested cold water for the three of them. Brian quickly chugged down the water.

“Are you okay Brian?” Freddie said.

“Yeah, just ready to go home.”

“Stay, just for a bit longer!” Deaky demanded. Brian groaned in annoyance.

“Yeah, stay, the pub doesn’t close for another hour yah know.” Brian heard the familiar voice. The blush crept up his neck again, he glanced to his left to see the yellow and pink tie.

“That gives me an hour to get home.” Brian responded.

“Aw, come on.” She begged, ”I like you, please stay.”

Brian whined, “Okay.” He kept his gaze toward the floor. He didn’t want to give any different type of reaction. He heard a glass being set down in front of him and he looked up taking a sip of the water.

“Okay.” She giggled, stepping behind the bar to grab a drink for herself.

“Freddie and I are going to.. Eh.. talk with some friends. Don’t leave without us.” Deaky told Brian as he was being dragged away by Freddie. He sat up to look at his friend.

“That’s ok, I’ll be here.” He said.

“Thanks love!” Deaky responded before taking off with his boyfriend to a different part of the club. He didn’t want to know where and what they were going to do so he turned back to the bar where a set of baby blue eyes met his.

“So,” She blushed, her finger circled around her glass, “what’s your major?”

“Astrophysics, you?” He asked.

“Biology.” She smiled, looking down at her glass.

“I.. eh, I have to say your performance earlier was very,” He paused, unsure what was the best way to respond, “cute?” He didn’t want to come off as rude or pushy. But she clearly did not see it that way, instead she bursted out in laughter.

“You’re so adorable!” She cooed. Brian’s face went red in embarrassment. He took a sip of water and kept his eyes on the counter. He didn’t want to be awkward but her presence and voice were doing things to him.

“There’s no need to be embarrassed stud.”

“Sorry, just not used to this kind of attention. Not from guys or girls.” Brian said.

“Well, a cutie like you deserves more attention.”

“Thank you, Rogerina. You are very kind.”

‘and sexy.’ Brian said to himself.

“What do you do in your free time? Besides getting dragged places by Freddie and Deaky?” She snickered.

“Not really anything, mostly work.” He clarified.

“Mmm, I do pretty much the same, work, work, and more work.” She said, adjusting her hair.

“Yeah, but your job seems more interesting.” Brian laughed and added, “So why this type of job? Not to be offensive! I’m just curious.”

“Don't worry about it love, I get that question a lot, I would come here when I was still in the closet and became friends with Tim, the manager, and the other girls they convinced me to get a job here, it was something I was skeptical about but then when I started performing and dressing up...I felt free for the first time in a long time.” Rogerina said she placed her hand on Brian’s. He wanted to move his hand to intertwine their fingers but he kept his hand offly tense.

“That’s amazing,” He smiled, “Uh, so would you like to meet for lunch tomorrow? I mean if you are busy that is totally fine or if you just don’t want to go.” Brian mumbled the last part.

“I would love to.” She was equally as red as Brian now but Brian had perked up at the response and excitement rushed through his body.

“Really! What time works best for you!” He said, he knew he was being loud but he couldn’t contain his joy.

“Noon works!” She said.

Brian grabbed a napkin and a pen from behind the bar and quickly wrote an address down and his number.

“Meet here and that is my number.” He said, sliding the napkin to her. She quickly looked at it before folding it on sticking it into her bra.

“I’m looking forward to it stud.” She winked at him before walking away. Brian’s eyes followed her until she finally disappeared but his eyes were fixed on his two friends bolting over to him.

“So, you have plans for tomorrow darling?” Freddie was barely containing a laugh.

“It looks like it.” Brian smiled, he couldn’t wait for it.

“Rogerina”

Roger who was making his way towards his night job, parked in the pubs parking lot and made his way towards the front doors. Roger saw a vaguely familiar face, knowing that they went to the same college. Roger walked up to the bouncer who was heckling the boy.

Roger stopped next to the tall boy and the bouncer leaned in towards Brian and whispered, ”For further reference mate, the password is Misfire.” Roger winked before stepping inside.

Roger was backstage now with the others. He sat at a chair facing a mirror covered in lights. Roger brushed out his long blonde hair, styling it with a curling iron. He listened to the other banter or bicker with one another, giggling every once in a while. Tim, the pub manager, whipped the door open.

“Alright ladies, be done in 20 minutes and Rogerina dear you'll be the first one to go, then you're in drink duty.”

“Lovely.” Roger grinned as he started to do his makeup.

Surprisingly, Roger got done just in time, he was in his most iconic look that drove the others crazy. He slipped on his high heels and walked to the side of the stage, seeing the metal pole in the middle of it. The lights in the pub grew dark and a spotlight was directed towards the middle of the stage. That was her cue as she walked out promiscuously towards the pole. Her blonde hair had two black and white Polka dot bows placed perfectly on the sides of her head. He white shirt was unbuttoned rather sexually, her pink and yellow tie tied lazily. Her black skirt barely surpassed her thighs. Rogerina's school girl outfit was a crowd favorite and everyone cheered when seeing her. As she got to the middle of the stage, she gripped it, the music started playing, and she swung herself around it. From the crowd she looked weightless, her feminine body definitely worked in her favor with this crowd.

After her performance was done she slipped backstage to make way for another Queen. She sat done, touching herself up as she heard the door to the backstage open. She smiled when she saw Freddie, Deaky, and their friend.

“Darling that was an amazing performance!” Freddie picked up Rogerina's hand to plant a kiss onto it. Always such a gentleman Fred was.

“Great performance.” Deaky smiled.

“Oh thank you Lovies.” Rogerina breathed, she was such a convincing woman it was scary. She planted a kiss on both Freddie's cheek and John's cheek.

“Now, who's this? Oh, wait...I remember I got you in.” Rogerina sauntered over to Brian, twirling one of his hair coils around her pretty finger, ”What's your name, stud?”

“I..um..I’m Brian.” Rogerina turned to Freddie before making a “tsk” noise with her perfectly glossed lips.

“So this is the famous Brian you've been telling me about, you are right though, Fred dear, he is as handsome as you say.” Rogerina turned back to Brian with a smile as warm as the sun. “It's nice to meet you, Brian.” She said before softly kissing Brian's cheek and walking back to her spot.

“I'll make sure to put this stud on the all-access list, I would like to see your sexy face more often.” Rogerina gave Brian a sultry wink.

“This really isn’t my scene.” Brian whispered meekly, making Rogerina smile great big.

“You learn to love it.” She turned to Freddie, putting a hang on his shoulder. “Closet case or a freshie?” She asked in a lingo that went straight over Brian's head.

“Fresh out, about a week or two now.” Freddie answered as she nodded her head.

“That's what I thought.” She giggled, ”Well I have to get back on the floors, drink duty tonight!” She hopped up at of her seat and glided across the dressing room, she was so graceful.

“See yah later Freddie, Deaky, and it was a pleasure meeting you stud.” And like that she was back to work. Rogerina made her rounds before spotting the trio at the bar, making her way over to them, she overheard a snippet of their conversation.

“Stay, just for a bit longer!” Deaky ordered and she heard Brian groan in irritation. She smirked and leaned up against the bar between Deaky and Brian.

“Yeah, stay, the pub doesn’t close for another hour yah know.”

“That gives me an hour to get home.”

“Aw, come on.” She pouted, ”I like you, please stay.” Rogerina batted her eyelashes in an innocent begging look.

“Okay.” She smiled knowing how flustered she was making Brian, giggling before fetching herself a drink.

“Freddie and I are going to.. Eh.. talk with some friends. Don’t leave without us.” Deaky called as he began to drag Freddie away.

“That’s ok, I’ll be here.”

“Thanks love!” Deaky and Freddie disappeared and Brian turned to look into Rogerina’s eyes.

“So,” Rogerina looked away, a small blush forming on her cheeks. She traced the rim of her glass with her pink varnished finger, ”what’s your major?”

“Astrophysics, you?”

‘God, he’s too cute’ Rogerina thought to herself before she spoke, ”Biology.” She smiled still looking down at her glass.

“I.. eh, I have to say your performance earlier was very,” She looked over at him, her smile turned into a smirk as she cocked her eyebrow. “Cute?” Rogerina instantly burst out into laughter.

“You’re so adorable!” She cooed. Rogerina the sheer embarrassment radiating off of Brian. She placed a soft touch to Brian’s hand.

“There’s no need to be embarrassed stud.” Rogerina reassured.

“Sorry, just not used to this kind of attention. Not from guys or girls.”

“Well, a cutie like you deserve more attention.” She was leaning against the bar and took a swig of her drink.

“Thank you, Rogerina. You are very kind.”

Rogerina blushed more and started swaying her hips to the music. She looked around looking for Freddie and Deaky, when she saw that they were watching them like hawks, a smirk pulled at her lips. Of course, she had picked up on their intentions instantly, but they could at least be subtle about it. She looked up at Brian again.

“What do you do in your free time?” Rogerina giggled before adding, ”Besides getting dragged places by Freddie and Deaky?”

“Not really anything, mostly work.”

“Mmm,” She hummed with a nod, ”I do pretty much the same, work, work, and more work.” Rogerina shook her head, her hair falling perfectly over her shoulders.

“So why this type of job? Not to be offensive! I’m just curious.” Rogerina placed her hand on his.

“That’s amazing,” Brian’s smile made her heart flutter, ”Uh, so would you like to meet for lunch tomorrow? I mean if you are busy that is totally fine or if you just don’t want to go.”

Rogerina’s face turned completely red at this, she fiddled with her hair.

“I would love to.” She swallowed, her brain instantly questioned if it was a date or not.

“Really! What time works best for you!” Rogerina giggled at Brian’s enthusiasm.

“Noon works!” Her blue eyes were wide with excitement now. Brian started scribbling on a napkin and promptly slid it over to her.

“Meet here and that is my number.” She takes it, folds it up, and tucks it in her bra with a wink.

“I’m looking forward to it stud.” Rogerina rubbed his shoulder and walked away, her blonde hair bouncing. She could see Deaky and Freddie freaking out in the background, she snickered and disappeared behind the stage.

------

Tagged: @discodeacygotmorerhythm @mayjohnson

#maylor #rogertaylor #brian may #brian may x roger taylor #Maylor fanfiction #Stud

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chasholidays · 6 years ago

Note

First of all, I'm weirdly proud of you for thinking of your mental health and changing the setup for holiday prompts! Anyway, I always love how you write Clarke and Miller's relationship and I would love to read a modern day Bellarke fic that focuses on Clarke and Miller being supportive friends who love each other but don't like to talk about it, but maybe they end up talking about it anyway? Besides it being modern day and focused on their friendship you have really free hands!

Like most friendly agreements, the dibs system wasn’t something Clarke and Nate ever sat down and ironed out, not really a formal thing. There is no list of rules and guidelines, no contract signed in blood.

All that happens is that a cute boy comes into auditions for the play in seventh grade, and Nate says, “Dibs.”

Clarke frowns. “On him?”

“Yup. He’s all mine.”

The confidence is just a little bit absurd. Not only is Nate twelve years old, skinny, and awkward, but they don’t even know if the guy likes guys. The idea that he’s going to, without a doubt, get this guy is pretty much ridiculous.

All of which Clarke could point out, but she doesn’t want to. Nate only just told her a few weeks ago that the thought he liked guys, and this part feels like a test, like Nate wants to see if Clarke believes him and accepts him.

“All yours,” Clarke agrees, and when, five weeks later, the boy tries to kiss her, Clarke says, “Sorry, you’re not my type.”

She doesn’t mention it to Nate for a long time, not until they’re at a party sophomore year and she sees a cute boy and says, “Hey, dibs.”

“What?”

“Dibs.”

“Who calls dibs? Are you twelve?”

“You called dibs. When we were twelve,” she has to admit. “You called dibs on Mark Talbot when we were doing the play and he kissed me and I didn’t kiss him back.”

“Huh,” says Nate. “Really?”

“Yup.”

“So really, you owe me. Mark Talbot’s a dick.”

This is true, but somewhat beside the point. “You still made dibs a thing, not me.”

“So what, now I’m supposed to not hit on that guy? Because you didn’t make out with a douchebag in seventh grade?”

“Well, not that douchebag.”

Nate snorts. “I forgot your taste in guys sucks. Fine, I won’t try to hit on him. He’s not even that cute.”

Up close, he’s definitely not that cute, and he’s not interested in Clarke, but the principle of the thing remains: Clarke called dibs, and Nate respected it, and now it’s a thing they’re both aware of.

It doesn’t always mean that they’re worried the other person will make a move; Clarke calls it on girls sometimes, and Nate calls it on guys he knows to be gay. It’s a declaration of interest, a request for backup, a silly tradition that grows over the years into a ritual. It doesn’t mean everything, but it means something, and something important.

And then, Nate calls dibs on Bellamy.

Which isn’t a big deal, all things considered. There’s definitely nothing wrong with it. Bellamy teaches Latin at the school where Clarke teaches art, and they’re friendly, verging on actually being friends. He and his roommates were having a party and he invited Clarke, who invited Nate. Nate hasn’t met Bellamy, so this is the first time calling dibs is an option, and now he has.

Clarke didn’t, so there’s no violation or anything. She’s had plenty of chances to call dibs on Bellamy and it never even occurred to her. She’s had two years of potential dibs and never took them.

“On Bellamy?”

“The one with the curly hair and the glasses, yeah.” Nate looks at her askance. “You said he’s bi, right?”

“He is, yeah.” Her brain finally gets with the program, and she smiles. “Honestly, you guys would probably be pretty great together.”

“You think?”

“You’re an asshole, he’s an asshole–”

“Wow, we already have so much in common.”

“And I’m pretty sure he’s single. Yeah, this one’s actually a good call.”

“Unlike my usual shitty taste?”

“Your exes have been a pretty mixed bag.”

“Oh, you’re one to talk.”

She grins. “Here’s hoping I develop good taste one day too.”

“I can’t wait.”

“Are you going to go talk to him?”

Nate takes a deliberate sip of his drink. “That’s not really in the spirit of dibs. It’s a long game. If I was going to hook up with him tonight, I wouldn’t need to call dibs. But I figure I’ll see him again sometime.”

“Oh good, I can’t wait to watch the train wreck of you seducing my coworker in real time.”

“You’re trying for sarcastic, but I know you’re actually looking forward to it. I can give you some tips.”

“I don’t need tips.”

“You’re just saying that because you haven’t seen me work yet.”

“I’ve seen you work enough to last me a lifetime.”

“Not since high school. I’ve gotten a lot better.”

That’s the other thing about the Bellamy dib, the thing that makes it feel more important than maybe it should. Clarke and Nate went to different colleges, in different time zones. They stayed in touch, of course, through Facebook and text messages, but this is their first time living in the same place full time for seven years, and the first time ever as adults. This is part of their new status quo, and Clarke doesn’t want to mess it up.

“Looking forward to it,” she says, with a smile.

She thinks she sounds pretty convincing.

Clarke and Bellamy weren’t instant friends when Clarke started teaching at Arcadia. The first time they met, Bellamy was disciplining some kids too harshly (in Clarke’s new and only semi-professional opinion) and while she hadn’t undermined him in front of the kids, she did take him aside after to gently point out that he was wrong.

Which he hadn’t been. Clarke can admit she was the asshole there, and Bellamy maybe knew his business better than she did.

Still, it was a hurdle that proved difficult to overcome on both sides. Clarke has never been good at admitting she’s wrong, and while Bellamy has since admitted that he got where she was coming from, he wasn’t particularly inclined to be the first to try to make amends. Given how stubborn both of them are, it probably could have gone on forever, but at the start of Clarke’s second year of teaching, they hired a new principal, who was and still is awful, and suddenly she and Bellamy had a common enemy. They found themselves on the same side of conversations in the staff room, working together to push back against shitty policies, and once that started, they realized how good they were at it and how much they actually did agree on a lot of things.

By the time Nate calls dibs on him, Bellamy is without doubt Clarke’s favorite coworker, which means the whole thing should, in theory, be a slam dunk. Nate and Bellamy seem like a good match, two of her favorite people in the world, and if they want to date, Clarke should be all for it. Clarke wants to be all for it. On paper, it makes so much sense.

Something about it bugs her, though, and she can’t figure out what. She’s probably being territorial toward one or both of them, worried that they won’t need her if they have each other, and that’s beyond shitty.

But she can get past it.

“You’re still single, right?”

It’s a week after the party, and if Nate has done anything to try to actually make a move on Bellamy, Clarke missed it. And, of course, he doesn’t have to do anything, there have been countless dibs that went nowhere, but it would really be a shame if nothing happened with him and Bellamy. A complete waste of dibs.

Bellamy looks up from the papers he’s grading with a small frown. “What?”

“You. Your dating status. Still single?”

“Still single. Why?”

As sad as it is, Clarke hadn’t really had a plan for this conversation past this point. She’s not really much of a matchmaker, and telling Bellamy that Nate likes him goes against the entire spirit of dibs. Her job here is to support Nate in his crush, not go out and make things happen herself.

Bellamy is still watching her, eyebrows raised, waiting for an explanation. “I saw you talking to that brunette at the party, I thought she might be a new girlfriend.”

“Oh, no. Ex-girlfriend, actually. But we broke up on good terms, so people make that mistake a lot.”

“I don’t understand how you’re on such good terms with all your exes,” she grumbles. “You broke up, it’s supposed to be bad!”

“No, breaking up is good. Staying together when you should break up is bad. Maybe this is your problem,” he teases.

“Shut up.”

He considers her. “What about the guy you brought? New boyfriend?”

At least he’s considerate enough to give her the perfect opening. “Him? No, that’s Nate.”

“He said his name was Miller.”

“He started going by his last name in high school because our class had like five Nates. But we’ve been friends since–I can’t even remember. Basically since birth.”

Bellamy snorts. “You would have a friend like that.”

“What does that even mean?”

“I picture your childhood as very idyllic, I guess. I moved around too much to keep any of the kids I knew growing up.”

“That happened with our other friend, Wells. We were all in the same carpool to pre-school–shut up,” she adds, before he can say anything, and he grins and holds his hands up. It is a cute story, he’s not wrong. “We were pretty much inseparable through elementary school, but then in sixth grade Wells’ dad got a job in Seattle and they moved, so it was just me and Nate. Not that we didn’t still talk to Wells, but it wasn’t the same.” She shrugs. “We went to different colleges, but he got a new job here, so here we are.”

“That’s awesome. It must be nice to have him around again.” He smirks. “You know, none of that is convincing me that he’s not going to be your new boyfriend. That sounds like some rom-com shit.”

“He’s gay.”

“Okay, never mind, yeah.”

“I’m going to try to bring him to stuff, though,” she says. “Maybe even organize stuff myself.”

Bellamy snorts. “Wow, drastic measures.”

“I could have parties, right? Or, like, game nights. Nate likes games, I have a pretty big apartment.”

“Is this you asking me if I’ll come to game nights at your apartment, the answer is yes. I’ll even give you some tips on how to act like you’re actually comfortable having people over.”

“It just gets messy,” she says, making a face. “I hate cleaning.”

“But you’re worried he won’t make any friends without your semi-competent help, so you’re willing to do it anyway?”

It’s a much safer explanation than the truth. “I know he didn’t just move here for me, but I was part of the reason. I don’t want him to regret it.”

Bellamy’s expression softens, the smile warming his whole face. “I get that, yeah. It looked like he was having fun at my party, so that’s a good start.”

“Yeah, I think he had a good time.” She tucks her hair back. “So, game nights?”

“Until you come up with something to do that doesn’t mess up your apartment, sure. Whatever it is, I’m in.”

Clarke smiles. “Cool, I’ll keep you posted.”

Despite the whole thing being for his benefit, Nate is less enthused about the game night idea.

“You need a good group dynamic for game night,” he explains. “I don’t know anyone well enough to be sure what kind of games would even be good. You’re over-competitive, that’s already a bad start.”

“I am not!”

“You hate losing.”

“Who likes losing?” she grumbles, and Nate smirks.

“This is what I’m saying.”

“I’m trying to help, you know.”

“Help with what, exactly?”

“Making friends? Hitting on my coworker? Settling into the city?”

Nate snorts. “Thanks, Mom. I can manage my own social life.” But his expression softens. “We should have auditions.”

“Auditions?”

“Don’t call it a game night until we know who we want to come. You don’t want to commit to a group. These are the kinds of things you’d know if you were a true gamer,” he adds.

“This is the kind of thing I don’t know because I got laid in college.”

“I got laid in college and I played board games. Which one of us is winning here?”

“Honestly, neither.”

He grins. “Yeah, that sounds right.”

“So, any of your new coworkers you think would be good for a board game night?”

“I think we can figure something out.”

Clarke invites Bellamy, Sinclair from the physics department, and Jasper from English. Bellamy brings (yet another) ex-girlfriend, Raven, who’s apparently a shark, and Jasper brings his friend Monty. Nate invites his coworkers Harper and Monroe, and they have what, in Clarke’s amateur opinion, is a pretty successful game night. Everyone seems to enjoy themselves, and no one gets too competitive, not even Clarke.

And, as a bonus, she manages to get Bellamy and Nate in the same pod for most of the games, and they seem to get along just as well as she thought they would.

Honestly, it’s one of her more successful plans, thus far. She could maybe be good at this.

“That was a good crew, right?” she asks Nate, once everyone else has cleared out. “Good attitudes.”

“Yeah, that actually worked out really well.” He leans against the counter, watching her. “You know you don’t have to do all this, right? Like, I’m an adult, I can make friends on my own. You’re not even that good at making friends. Blind leading the blind.”

“So I’m trying to help both of us. And it’s working so far, right?”

“One good game night,” he says. “Don’t get cocky.”

Clarke grins. “So, same time next week?”

“Yeah, can’t wait.”

The exact make-up of game night varies, depending on how busy everyone is. Clarke is the default host, but after a few weeks, it’s evolved beyond her. She has too much going on with grading and helping out with the junior fundraiser one week, so Bellamy agrees to have it at his place so Clarke won’t have as much on her place. Even Jasper’s friend Monty, who barely knows them, hosts one week, just because he loves games so much and is excited to finally have a group to play them with.

It takes about two months for things to go wrong, and when they do, it’s in the stupidest possible way. Nate’s usually the one to help Clarke with cleanup, but he has an early morning, so Bellamy volunteers to stick around instead.

“You know,” he observes, “I didn’t think this was going to work.”

“Which part?”

“The game night thing. I figured it would fall apart after a week or two, that’s how this always works. But I should have known you’re too stubborn to just give up. Is it working?”

“You just said it was working,” Clarke says, frowning at him.

“No, not that. You were trying to make friends for Miller. How’s that going?”

Clarke feels a flush race through her body, although she can’t figure out why. “You like him, right?”

“Yeah, he’s cool. Does he like sports?”

“Sports? Like, as a general concept?”

“I have some tickets to a baseball game,” he says, not looking at Clarke. “My sister got them and she can’t go, so she gave them to me. I thought maybe Miller might be interested. I assume you’re not,” he adds, an afterthought, and Clarke pastes on a smile.

“Yeah, definitely not. I don’t know anything about baseball. But Nate might be interested, yeah. You should ask him.”

“Cool, thanks. It seems like he’s getting along with everybody pretty well, so–seriously, I’m impressed.”

“I’m impressive.”

She makes it through the rest of the cleaning up without incident, sends Bellamy home, and then drops back against the door with a shaky exhale of breath. This was what she wanted; this was the whole point. Helping Nate make friends generally and with Bellamy specifically, and now Bellamy is asking him out. This is going better than Clarke could have imagined.

She takes a few deep breaths and calls Wells. He’s still on the west coast, so it’s not as late there, and he picks up right away.

“Hey, Clarke, what’s up?”

“I’m having a weird crisis.”

“Oh good, that sounds fun.” But she can hear the smile in his voice. “What’s the weird crisis?”

She exhales. “It’s complicated.”

“Will you quit stalling and just tell me already? It’s complicated and stupid and you’re embarrassed, I get it. I won’t judge you.”

“I just realized I have a thing for my coworker.”

“Bellamy?”

Her heart drops. “How did you know?”

“You talk about him a lot. I didn’t think you knew, if it helps. You’re kind of slow with this stuff.”

“That’s supposed to help?”

“So, you figured out you like him and now you’re panicking? That’s not that bad.”

“Nate likes him and I’ve been trying to set them up. And I just figured out I like Bellamy because he’s going to ask Nate out.”

“Huh,” says Wells, slow. “Okay, yeah, that’s worse than I was expecting.”

Clarke closes her eyes, sighing deeply. “I thought I was happy for him. I was happy for him. Nate said he had dibs and I thought–” She pauses, reconsiders. “I told myself I was good with it and I should make it happen, and now I did.”

“How much does Nate like him?”

It’s a good question to which Clarke doesn’t have a good answer. Nate called dibs, obviously, but it doesn’t feel as if he’s put a ton of effort into hanging out with Bellamy, not more than anyone else. They seem friendly, but Clarke wouldn’t know he had a crush if he hadn’t told her. He hasn’t mentioned it since that first night, and he hasn’t seemed to put together that the game nights were entirely for his benefit, with Bellamy.

“I don’t know. He just said–” She’s never explained the whole dibs thing to Wells, and saying it now feels juvenile. She’s twenty-five; she shouldn’t be having a meltdown like this over something that ambiguous. “He just said he liked him. It’s been a couple months now, he hasn’t mentioned it again.”

“So talk to him,” Wells says, logical as ever. “Tell him what’s going on. I’m not saying he’s going to just tell you to go for it, but you know the two of you need to have a conversation. And you knew I was going to tell you this too, so you knew what you were getting into calling me. Get it together, Griffin, and ovary up.”

“Thanks.”

“Seriously, he’s your best friend. Aside from yours truly. You can talk to him.”

“Yeah,” she says, with a sigh. “I can.”

The next day, she frets off and on about when to talk to Nate, but doing it after the baseball date just feels shitty, if she’s honest. If their positions were reversed, and she was going out with a guy Nate had realized he liked, she’d want to know about it as soon as possible, and definitely before the actual first date. Like Wells said, it wouldn’t necessarily change her plans, but she’d at least want to weigh Nate’s feelings against everything else. That’s what friends do, and it’s definitely what Nate is going to do.

So she asks if he wants to hang out the next night, and when he shows up, she just blurts it out: “I need to talk to you about Bellamy.”

Nate frowns. “What about Bellamy?”

“You know–” She exhales. It’s easy to talk to Wells about feelings stuff; Wells loves feelings. But she and Nate have never been good at that. “Okay, I know you like him. And I really wanted to support you, but–”

Nate holds up his hand. “Wait, what?”

“I was trying to help!”

For a second, his face is all confusion, but then his expression clears and he starts to laugh. “Jesus, you’ve been trying to set me up with Bellamy.”

“Of course I have! You said you liked him.”

“I did?”

“You called dibs! The first party, you saw him, and you said–”

“I wanted to hook up with him, I didn’t want to marry him. It’s not like I was real attached to the idea.”

Clarke opens and closes her mouth a few times, finally says, “Did you hook up with him?”

“No. He’s still hot, don’t get me wrong, but Monty’s more my type.”

“Monty?”

He scowls. “What’s wrong with Monty. He’s hot, he’s geeky, he’s not as fucking intense as you and Bellamy–”

“I didn’t mean it like–” She shakes her head. “Nothing against Monty, he’s great. I’ve just spend the last two months stressing about you and Bellamy.”

“You know I’m an adult, right? I can take care of myself. I don’t need you managing my social life or my love life.”

“I know.” She rubs her face, gives him a sheepish smile. “Bellamy’s going to ask you to go to a baseball game. He told me that and I had kind of a breakdown because I thought you guys were going to be–this whole happily ever after love story. And I might have just realized a thing for him.”

“Jesus Christ, Griffin.” He puts his arm around her and squeezes. “You never thought about just asking me?”

“I was telling myself I was happy for you!”

“Just saying, five minutes’ conversation and this would have been all set. Even if I liked him, I wouldn’t have–”

“You would have told me to go for it, just like I was telling you to go for it. I thought–you called dibs! It wasn’t ambiguous.”

“Yeah, but it’s not a blood pact.” He pauses, studying her for a long moment. “If you ever called dibs on a guy I really liked, I would have just told you.”

“You’re a lot more in touch with your feelings than I am. I was still in denial.”

“Yeah, you’re a disaster. So, he’s going to ask me out?”

“To a baseball game. I don’t even know if it’s a date, he was being pretty casual about it. Fuck,” she says. “If he’s into you–”

“I’ll let him down easy. But I haven’t really gotten that vibe from him. Honestly, if you asked me? I’d say he’s into you. He’s always looking for an excuse to hang out with you more, and half the time when I’m talking to him, we’re talking about you.” He grins. “If he still wants to take me to the baseball game as friends, I can feel him out for you.”

She sighs. “I don’t know, I was thinking I could just talk to him.”

“Really?”

“It really does clear things up fast.” She smiles. “If you liked him, I’d step aside. Really. I wasn’t going to ask you to give him up or anything. That’s not why–”

“I know you’ve got my back. And I’ve got yours. Let me know if you need anything.”

“And if you need help with Monty–”

He smirks. “You know, I think you’ve done enough. I’ve got it from here.”

“Good. I’m rooting for you.”

He presses a kiss to the top of her head. “Right back at you.”

She waits until all the students have cleared out the next afternoon and then goes to find him in his room. He likes to grade until dinner time, a tradition Clarke finds baffling, but he claims it helps with work/life balance, and it does make him easy to find. She’d like to say she’s only a little nervous, but that’s a lie. She’s had a very intense week of feelings, and she’s looking forward to just having it done with, but she’s also kind of dying.

So it’s time to clear everything up.

“Hey,” she says, knocking on his door jamb. “Got a second?”

“Yeah, what’s up? You’re here late.”

She closes the door behind her as she enters the classroom, props herself up on the table across from his desk. It’s her first time alone with him since she realized how she felt and she’s hyper aware of everything about him. She can’t believe it took her this long to realize how she felt. It feels so stupidly obvious.

“Yeah, I was waiting for everyone to clear out.”

He frowns. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. It’s–honestly, it’s kind of ridiculous. Are you asking Nate to go to that game?”

“One of my students might want to buy the tickets, I’m waiting to see if he actually comes up with the money. Why?”

“Was it going to be a date?”

The blood drains from his face. “What? Fuck, no, I–did he think that? I didn’t think–”

She starts to laugh. “No, I’m pretty sure I had this whole weird narrative built up in my head and no one but me knew about it.”

“The narrative where I want to date your best friend?”

“And he wants to date you.”

“Does he want to date me?”

“No, he doesn’t. No one thought that but me. And I’ve been kind of–” She shrugs. “It’s been a weird couple months.”

“I still feel like I’m missing something,” he says, almost reluctantly. Like he’s disappointed with himself for not getting it.

It’s not his fault, of course. She exhales, makes herself look at him. “I was kind of freaking out about it. Because–I’m interested in you. Which doesn’t have to be a thing, but after this week I feel like direct communication is my friend. So–do you want to get dinner sometime?”

He blinks a few times, processing the information. It’s clearly nothing he was expecting, probably nothing that ever occurred to him, and now he’s trying to figure out how to let her down easy, how to–

“Fuck, I didn’t think I had a chance,” he says, face breaking out into a huge grin. He crosses the room and cups her face, kissing her so she can taste the smile too. “No wonder I was getting such weird signals,” he teases.

Clarke grins too. “I’m not very good with feelings.”

“Not so much.” He leans down for another kiss. “So, dinner?”

“It’s a date.”

Two weeks later, they end up on a double date with Nate, who’s up to date on Clarke’s incompetence, and Monty, who wants to hear the whole story.

“I don’t know if we should really be talking about how I wanted to fuck Bellamy,” Nate teases.

Monty waves his hand. “It’s fine, Bellamy’s hot, everyone wants to fuck him. We just accept that.”

“Thanks,” says Bellamy. “I think.”

Clarke smiles. “It was really a simple misunderstanding. Nate and I didn’t formalize the dibs system, so I thought he was saying I want that guy and you can never go for him–”

“And I was a little drunk and thought Bellamy was hot. I forgot about it by the next day.”

“I probably would have too,” Clarke protests. “Except that I was trying really hard to be supportive.”

“Heavily in denial,” Nate says, winking at her, and Clarke kicks him under the table. Just a little.

“Hey, I’m not complaining. I got a girlfriend and I found out everyone wants to fuck me. This worked out great for me.”

“Yeah,” Nate agrees. “Good job with the matchmaking, Clarke. You nailed it.”

He waits until Bellamy and Monty have gone for another round of drinks to add, “I think we should retire the dibs thing.”

“You think?”

“It was confusing. And I’m hoping we don’t need it anymore.”

Clarke smiles, raises the dregs of her drink for him to clink his glass. “Yeah,” she agrees. “I think we’re all set.”

#stayalivelou

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sapphic-kid-blog · 5 years ago

Text

the truth is.

Angela Salmeron

Imagine you’re me. You’re twelve and you’re at a family reunion. Family members sitting around you with Wisconsin-made beer turn from the Brewers game on the television and resort to the one question that you’ve been practicing how to answer in your head: “How’s school?” And truthfully, you’re not sure. So perhaps you respond: “It’s fine.” They nod their heads and you think you’re in the clear. But then they ask you: “What are you learning?” And before you know it they’re tacking on the end: “Any cute boys?”

Now I’m sure it varies from family to family, and I’m sure the questions vary in more or less intrusive. Maybe it was never asked, and maybe it was a family friend and not an uncle or cousin. Maybe it was asked but not directly, or enforced another way. But one question for me, stood tall and it stood out among the rest.

My brain was no longer thinking about what we talked about in Social Studies or the book we read in English. It was no longer thinking about the new formula we learned in Math, or the cycle of the ecosystem in Science. It was thinking about one thing, and the one thing that I had no idea how to talk about: romantic intimacy.

From the time I got my period at the end of 6th grade, to the time I finished high school, and even sometimes now, I thought I was the odd one out or the only one who wasn’t experiencing romantic intimacy the way others would. Not kissing or hand holding but even things as simple as a crush.

What I felt was embarrassment.

Firstly, I never really had crushes or really knew what they were. Friendships in a way felt like crushes to me, and when I had no idea what romantic or sexual intimacy was, I felt confused. So then, I stopped introspecting and I started observing.

The romantic relationships I saw were comprised of these aspects: wanting to be around a person, telling that person that you didn’t just like them but you like-liked them, and then saying that you now were exclusively partners or “dating”.

Most importantly: not only were those girls, who were mostly my friends, doing this but they were, as I noticed, only doing this with boys.

I followed suit.

Come the first day of band camp — set in a gym at one of the two middle schools in my small, conservative city. With my clarinet in hand, I watched as other girls talked about boys from different schools. I watched as they giggled and flocked in groups to discuss which ones they’d be excited to see in the starting 6th grade class coming up in a few months.

I saw the first tall boy, who was decently good looking, and told the girls around me: “He’s cute.” One of the girls turned to me and said, “That’s (let’s call him) Snazzlepants and there’s his twin, (and he’ll be) Fizzywizzy.” Quickly, I acted as though I was still not only interested, but now blown away by the look of this gangly preteen walking amongst the group of kids.

This was when everything I knew about myself would be different.

Luckily when the beginning of September rolled around, this boy was in my 6th grade house, also known as the set of students I’d be sharing a side of the middle school with. So as I eventually made friends, the more I had to absolutely drop the fact that I had a crush on a boy. I had to tell them that maybe it would happen between us because one time, I saw him looking at me (wasn’t true) and one time we brushed hands (definitely wasn’t true). They’d be dazzled, awe in their eyes, and I didn’t feel embarrassed, I felt included and important.

The more twisted I became in this lie, the more I had to not only convince others around me, but I had to convince myself. Not even the bullying from his friends after they all found out would stop me from speaking my lie aloud to anyone who wanted to hear it.

I spent the days either convincing myself and others that I absolutely loved him or crying because his friends would call me ugly or stupid and annoying over a lie that I was choosing to spread. But it was better than the alternative, of being singled out and feeling as though I was the only one who felt differently than the rest; it was better than admitting a lie.

This is the first time in my life I felt like I would rather die.

Growing up in my small city of West Bend, Wisconsin, was strange. The town as I knew it was mostly white and definitely a majority, conservative white. There weren’t many people who looked like my dad, dark-skinned, and Spanish speaking, and there weren’t many people growing up around me that I knew who were part of the queer community. But my family, especially my mom, were active in the Democrat party and sticking up for civil rights. I was lucky, I suppose in a lot of aspects to know that if I ever were to come out as anything other than cis and heterosexual, I would not be living on the streets.

However, being surrounded by a lot of religious friends, spewing the words of their parents, I quickly found out that not everyone was lucky the way I was. I found out that even though my parents taught me, gay was okay, not everyone felt the same. And not only did they not feel the same, they would hate someone specifically because they were queer identifying.

I traumatized myself with movies like Brokeback Mountain and Boys Don’t Cry, thinking if I too were to express myself that way, I would meet a violent end. The media told me, I would be hated if I were like them, made me believe that I would find the same fate. It was an ending worse than being alone.

Loving who I wanted to love, because of where I lived, was not an option. It was not even questioned as an option. And even though I hated myself, for telling a lie, for having to deal with the many shitty aspects of that lie, I would continue to tell that lie.

Moving on, I continued to have so-called “crushes” on boys. I continued to force myself into situations that I was uncomfortable in because I wanted to seem normal, and I wanted to seem like there was nothing gay about me. And so, the lie festered.

I ignored signs of my queerness, and forgot them or didn’t realize what they were. Stealing my dad’s PlayBoys, hiding them under my bed, searching “girls kissing” on YouTube, watching exclusively Lesbian porn only meant I was exploring other options, and though the only option that appealed to me was women, still, it didn’t have to mean I wasn’t straight. Maybe it wasn’t as complex or scary as my thoughts were telling me. So I told myself, it didn’t matter because I could choose. I chose heteronormativity.

When it came to high school and crushes in a more traditional sense, dating and going to dances, losing one’s virginity, I became angry. Not because I wasn’t doing it but because if I wanted to do it, I’d have to do it with a guy so to perpetuate the lie.

Getting rid of the last guy, I had moved on to another: one of my best friend’s boyfriends (who’re still dating). This had become a new trend since the stages after my first “crush”; only liking boys that your close friends liked. And I remember so clearly, stepping on so many toes, making so many of my friend’s angry, and pissed off at me. I remember desperately wanting attention, not just from boys but from anybody because I was so sad, and I didn’t know why.

This was the second time in my life that I wanted to die.

Now my journal is filled with pictures of prescription bottles, bleeding wrists, and rants about how I just wanted to go away. How I was so angry to be able to breathe rhythmically and have a working heart with a steady beat, mocking me and reminding me that I was alive and I had this pain inside of me that seemed to have no real source.

When I read back on my words, I am quite literally stunned by the anger, the hatred, and the wish for a violent death.

I was 18 when I realized what was different.

One of the first notable girls I had feelings for, changed literally everything. My life, my experiences in childhood, my views about myself, and so many more aspects of my personal life were all ultimately flipped upside down. I knew that this had to be what I was missing in all those years, even if I was still afraid to say it, or even think it. Up until now, romance had been dramatic, painful, gestures had been grand and demanding, and thoughts had been intrusive and obsessive. But now, romance was soft. It was gentle and uplifting, it was simple and it felt so much more palatable. Until I broke up with her on New Year’s Eve because I still just wasn’t gay— nope, not for me.

And then, I fell in love for the first time. I loved her voice, her eyes; I loved the way that she said my name. I loved her jokes and the way she made me laugh. I loved that no matter what, everything was comfortable with her. For the first time, I pictured myself in the future, being with someone and being happy.

Finally, I was able to admit to myself: yes, I love women, and the floodgates opened.

After my girlfriend and I broke up, I dated handfuls of girls (most of which, never lasted longer than a month) because still, intimacy was such an issue. Maybe, it wasn’t that I liked girls but maybe it was certain girls. Or maybe, I wasn’t pansexual, bisexual, queer, lesbian, or whatever I was identifying at the time, perhaps, I was straight and I just experimenting. It could be possible, I’d never know and maybe, just maybe, this confusion would always be there, no matter what I did.

I was tired; so tired of not knowing, and I just wanted answers.

There’s something funny about being a gay woman, that isn’t funny at all. It’s the fear of what your life would be like without men— it’s the shame of imagining what you’d feel without the demanding presence of men. It’s the lie that you can only be serious in relationships with men, have children with men, and your life and everything you know to be true, revolves around men. I couldn't picture myself loving women, without also loving men.

But someone else could.

My sister has always been a huge presence in my life. And one day we’d just happen to be feeling the single life, so the conversation between us starts with: “We’ll be alone forever, haha.”

What was so different about this conversation was her so sure statement to me that I’d definitely have a wife.

I turned to her and paused before asking, “Can you even picture me with a man? Or marrying a man?”

Her response, so simple and so true, was: “Nope.”

Identifying as a Lesbian, now more than ever, feels so right to me. It feels like an identity in which I belong to. It’s a part of me that I’m proud of and it’s a part of me that I can’t change, no matter how much I lie to myself. It’s a part of me I never realized was there until years and years of thinking there was something wrong with me. I am proud to love women. I am proud to have a woman in my life to love. I am proud of the relationship that gives me hope for the future. And I’m proud of other gay relationships that make me feel a sense of belonging and solidarity.

Of course, there are still struggles: the question if I’m gay enough to have my sexuality be validated, if other people can sense I’m gay, if I’ll be safe, secure, and happy. And there definitely still are some shameful doubts, some questions which make me wonder if some people in my life who know I’m gay, resent me for it. I wonder if there are people in my family, who know, and are too afraid of me to express not only tolerance but support. I wonder if there are some who wouldn’t come to my wedding.

In the end, I sometimes wonder if it’s all worth it.

And then I hear powerful and inspiring stories from other members of the queer community, I see their faces shining for me and people like me to be represented.

And then I remember seeing my uncles love each other so endlessly.

And then I hear her voice, and know without a fraction of a doubt that it’s worth it.

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lovinglohst · 6 years ago

Text

I Wanna Dance With Somebody: Chapter 1- The Shittiest Night Of Our Lives

Story Pairings: Boyf riends, Pinkberry, RichJake

Chapter Characters: Michael Mells, Brooke Lohst, Jeremy Heere

Chapter Warnings: Panic Attack (think that's it)

Summary: On the night of the Halloween Party, Michael is about halfway through having his infamous panic attack when Brooke comes tumbling into the bathroom, in the middle of her very own teenage angst. Michael lets her stay and the two sit in the bathtub and bond over their anger at their friends/super-mega-crushes. That’s when they get the idea to start fake dating to both get back at Jeremy and Chloe and win them over. Chaos, bonding, and gay ensue.

Authors’ Note: So we got this idea for a BMC fic and decided why not. To be absolutely clear- Michael and Brooke are not endgame. They’re just cute, platonic chaos gays. Enjoy! - Aly and Nik

AO3 Link

“He went crazy trying to get it out !”

The air in the bathroom turned ice cold. Michael could feel his heart beating in his chest rapidly as if he’d drank one can too many of Red Bull. It was hard for him to believe that the boy standing in front of him was the same boy who’d been his best friend since pre-school. Because the Jeremy Heere before him was almost unrecognizable.

“Then I have nothing to worry about. Why would I want that?” The words cut into him, and Michael could feel small cracks forming in his heart. Jeremy looked away from him, jaw set as he moved for the door. Michael moved with him, refusing to let this go. Jeremy was going to end up hurt if he didn’t do something. He just had to make him listen . “Move.”

“Or you’ll what?”

“Get out of my way. Loser. ” Michael stared directly into those blue eyes. They were as cold as ice, glaring into Michael’s like he was a bug under his shoe. His chest felt heavy, his heart beginning to ache as it tried to jump from his chest. Holding back thick tears, he moved out of Jeremy’s way silently. The boy brushed past him, purposefully knocking Michael’s shoulder with his own as he left Michael behind. He didn’t even glance back, slamming the door shut. Michael flinched at the sound, letting out a shaky breath. His entire body felt numb as he stared at the wall blankly. He couldn’t think, couldn’t see, hecouldn’tbreathe- whycouldn’thebreathe-

“Hello?!” A sharp knock cut through the air, pulling Michael from his daze. “Some of us have to pee!”

“I’m having my period!” He called weakly, wanting to slam his face into the wall. Idiot, absolutefuckingidiot .

“...Take your time honey.” The voice answered gently, and Michael let out another ragged breath. He needed to sit down. His legs could barely hold him upright, his knees like jelly. He felt around blindly, his hand curling around the cool, porcelain of the bathtub. He guided himself into it, breath coming in short, rapid gasps.

He felt pathetic -he was pathetic- sitting here all by himself. He was in a fucking bathroom at the biggest party of the year, while Jeremy was out there having the time of his life. He’d probably found someone new to hang out with, someone to replace Michael. Like he was some broken toy.

The thought made him begin to shake uncontrollably, his vision narrowing till all he saw was the smooth bottom of the tub, his ears filled with the loud thumping of his still racing heart and some girl singing to a Whitney Houston song outside the door. The type of girl he and Jeremy would usually make fun of…

Michael pulled his knees to his chest, burrowing his head in between them. He was going to be sick, he just knew it. Everything was so loud, tooloud- ohgoditwastooloudmakeitstopplease-

A sudden, high-pitched shriek made him jump, head snapping up to see-

Oh, you had to be fucking kidding me right now …

Standing in front of him was Brooke Lohst, in all her glory. She was wearing the skimpiest dog costume he’d ever laid eyes on, with almost everything on display. It was everything a teenage boy could’ve wanted. Except for him. Everything he’d ever wanted had just told him he was a loser and then left him without a second glance.

“What are you doing in here?” Brooke questioned, her voice hollow and broken. It was only then that Michael realized that she was crying. Her usually flawless makeup was coming down her cheeks in streaks, face flushed a depressing shade of red as she stared at him with as much poise as a crying girl in a poodle costume could muster. He stared at her for a minute, trying to get his voice box to work.

“Having the shittiest night of my life.” He answered finally, resting his chin on top of his knees. Brooke slowly raised her hand, wiping at the makeup-stained tear marks on her cheeks.

“Same.” They sat there in silence for a moment, Michael silently debating what to do. Sure he kind of hated Brooke- not only because she was a bully but because she stole Jeremy from him- but she looked as shitty as he felt, which was concerning.

“Do you… do you wanna get in the tub with me?” He asked hesitantly, watching Brooke’s face twist in disgust. He quickly realized how that sounded, clearing his throat in embarrassment. “N-Not like that. Just-”

Groaning, he buried his face back in his knees. He wanted the Earth to just open up and swallow him whole, just to get out of this awkward situation. After a few moments, he heard Brooke’s slow footsteps coming closer. Lifting his head, he watched as she lowered herself into the opposite end of the tub carefully. She pulled her almost completely bare legs to her chest, the tags on the collar around her neck jingling quietly as she placed her chin on her knees in a position that mirrored his.

This was officially simultaneously the worst and weirdest night of his life.

“Am I ugly or something?” Brooke asked suddenly, making Michael pause. When he didn’t offer a reply, Brooke gazed directly into his eyes with fresh tears already forming. “No, seriously? Like, am I just hideous to look at?”

Michael’s mouth opened and closed quite a few time before he could force the ‘no’ from his throat. Looking dissatisfied, Brooke wiped at her cheek again.

“Then what is it about me that makes guys want to cheat on me? I don’t get what’s wrong with me.” Her voice broke, fresh tears beginning to fall again. “I try so hard, so fucking hard so that people will like me. I’m beautiful, I’m popular, I’m on the honor roll. But it doesn’t even matter, does it? All anyone is ever going to see me as is ‘Brooke Lohst, second best’. My own supposed ‘best friend’ doesn’t even respect me enough to not screw the guys I’m dating! And I just-”

Brooke let out an ugly sob, placing a hand over her eyes. Tears continue to slide between her fingertips, the small droplets plopping quietly on to the tub’s white floor.

“I’ve had a crush on my best friend for four years,” He admitted quietly, turning away when Brooke’s green eyes found his. “And tonight, he basically told me that I wasn’t good enough for him anymore. E-Even after all the things we’ve been through. Twelve years of him being my friend- my only friend- and he just throws it all away.”

Michael didn’t take his gaze off the sink, though he could feel Brooke watching him still.

“It’s definitely not the same thing, but it sucks just as much,” He let out a hollow laugh, tears coming down his face even quicker. “Pathetic, isn’t it?”

“Then I guess we’re both pretty pathetic.” She answered, and Michael finally turned to look at her. She gave him a sad smile, sticking out her ‘paw-glove’ clad hand. “Brooke Lohst.”

“Nice to meet you, Brooke,” He shook her hand, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips at the absurdity of the situation. He was in a bathtub, at a party with the second most popular girl at school. “I’m Michael Mell.”

“Nice to meet you, Michael.”

“I don’t get how this is supposed to help,” Brooke whined, stabbing her straw into her slushie. She looked completely ridiculous in a poodle costume, sat upon the hood of Michael’s shitty 2007 PT Cruiser and holding a bright blue slushie in the 7-11 parking lot at two o’clock in the morning. Michael sat beside her, slurping on his red one like it was the last one he’d ever have.

“The cold helps to freeze your heart so that you can’t feel any more pain.” Michael joked, shrugging sarcastically. Brooke giggled, taking a hesitant sip of the ice cold drink. “Good?”

“I like Pinkberry better,” She sighed, taking another long sip of the slushie. “But this is okay, for now.”

“Maybe tomorrow.” Michael hummed, fiddling with his straw. Music was coming from his headphone, the faded sound of Bob Marley helping to fill the comfortable silence between the two.

“Tomorrow?” Brooke questioned, turning to look at him.

“O-Oh, I just kinda assumed- I mean-” Brooke giggled at his flustered expression, nudging him with her arm.

“I would love to hang out with you tomorrow. Not like I have anywhere else to be…” She trailed off quietly, staring at the bright neon sign on the store in front of them for a long while. “Do you…”

“Do I…?”

“Do you think that stupid computer made him cheat on me?” She asked, sounding a little hopeful. It had taken a while to convince Brooke about the SQUIP, mostly because of how ridiculous it sounded, but she'd quickly come around at the slight chance that yet another boyfriend cheating on her hadn't actually been her fault. Michael glanced down at her, straw between his teeth.

“I wouldn’t be surprised. That fucking thing is making Jeremy act all kinds of weird.” Michael's leg began to bounce, sitting still becoming to constricting. “Whoever that person is… it’s not Jeremy. Jeremy- the Jeremy I know- is kind, and funny and smart. I mean, yeah, he’s a bit of a tool sometimes- but he cares . He cares so much.”

Brooke blinks at him owlishly.

“You’re so gay it’s not even funny,” Brooke said finally, and Michael couldn’t help the laugh the ripped its way from his throat. Brooke joined in, giggling furiously. And in that moment, they weren’t the school stoner and the second-hottest girl in school. They were just Michael and Brooke, two very gay (bi, in Brooke’s case), very lonely kids who had found someone who understood them just a bit better than everyone else.

“You know what we should do?” Brooke gazed at him mischievously, laughter still bubbling in her throat.

“What?” Michael asked teasingly.

“We should date, just to make them jealous.” Michael looked at her sideways, tilting his head in confusion.

“Brooke, you realize I’m strictly into dudes, right? Like you’re amazing, don’t get me wrong. But you kinda don’t have the right… parts for me.”

Rolling her eyes, the girl slid off the hood of the car, dramatically placing her hands on her hips.

“I know that, silly. I didn’t mean we should actually date .” Brooke wrinkled her nose on the word, her tone suggesting she found the whole idea revolting.

“Feeling really flattered here, Lohst.” He said dryly, slurping his drink.

“You know what I mean! I just mean that we should pretend. Make them think we’re dating. Show them how happy we are without them!” Michael considered her words, narrowing his eyes at her suspiciously.

“Do you really think that’ll work?” He asked, considering the girl. She had a determined fire glowing in her green eyes, smirking at him like a wolf closing in on its prey. It was… unsettling to say the least.

“It worked for Chloe and Jake last year. She fake-dated Dustin Kropp to make him jealous, and they got back together the next month. It’s totally fool-proof!”

Despite Brooke’s confidence, Michael couldn’t help but feel a nervous pit in his stomach. It didn’t sound as simple to him as it probably did to Brooke. She’d dated a bunch of guys (and a girl or two) before, but Michael had only ever loved and wanted one person. He wasn’t sure he could do it. Not with Jeremy probably watching his every move.

But why would he watch you? He asked himself, feeling cold. He’s made it very clear that he thinks you’re beneath him. So why not make him regret it?

Looking at Brooke’s expectant face, he nodded firmly.

“I’m in.” He proclaimed determinedly. Brooke squealed loudly, throwing her arms around his neck roughly. Michael paused for a moment, before wrapping his arms around Brooke’s small frame. It felt nice to be hugged like this- like she cared about him. It had been a while since he and Jeremy had done something like that, his heart clenching at the thought. He held onto Brooke tightly for a long while, before pulling back reluctantly.

“Oh, this is going to be so much fun!” She giggled, pulling back to smile at him brightly. She brandished her slushie at him proudly. “To our new relationship!”

Michael smirked a little, rolling his eyes in exasperation.

“To our new relationship.”

Chapter 2 --->

#be more chill #boyf riends #pinkberry #richjake #tw panic attack #be more chill musical #fake dating au #be more chill fanfic #angst and fluff #michael in the bathroom #bmc i wanna dance with someone

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catsbrak · 7 years ago

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and they were roommates.

(reddie, risqué content, internalized homophobia(?)) the roommate reddie AU that literally no one asked for! (based on a true reddit post!)

it turns out I don't have any problem with Eddie kissing guys if it's me he's kissing.

'Hey, reddit! got a bit of a question for ya. I’m a little stumped. see, I’ve always thought of myself as an accepting person. That’s why I didn’t care when my roommate, I’ll refer to him as Eddie, told me that he was gay. Or I thought I didn’t care.'

He and Eddie Kaspbrak had been roommates for three or four months now. When Eddie first told Richie that he was gay, he really didn’t care. He tried to be supportive, even. He considered himself a very accepting person, always had been. He hadn’t exactly been cool in high school - and thanks to that, he spent time with a lot of kids who didn’t quite fit in, for one reason or another. And being gay was something Eddie was mocked for, but it never bothered Richie at first. Sometimes, they even flirted a little. Eddie had told him it wasn’t unusual for him to flirt with a straight guy, so nothing about it was weird.

They played video games, they laughed, and Eddie was so witty. He had a comeback for everything. He also thought that Richie’s voices were funny, it was incredible. He even let out the adorable little giggle every time Richie would call him ‘Eddie Spaghetti’. Everything was just fine. Peachy, really. That is, up until the first night Richie came home to find Eddie sitting in some guys lap on the couch. His instantaneous reaction was disgust.

“I thought you’d be out longer!” Eddie insisted, and Richie felt like he was going to be sick to his stomach. “I’m really sorry, Rich.”

"It’s fine. I just didn’t expect to walk in and see you all– tongue down your throat on the couch!” Richie said in exasperation, and it caused both of them to blush and look away from one another.

'I don’t know how to describe what it was like walking in on them, all I could think was that I was going to be sick. Eddie was embarrassed but I tried to tell him it was okay, that I was just embarrassed too. Because there was NO good reason for me to have that sort of reaction.’

Richie had convinced himself that it was because he’d been so shocked to see it. He’d just never seen something like that. That heavy, and between two men. He didn’t want to think it was because he could be grossed out. But after a couple more incidents, walking in on Eddie and a few different guys throughout the weeks, Richie was completely on edge. It made him uncomfortable. He couldn’t stop thinking about what might happen when he wasn’t here. What those guys were doing to Eddie, and what he might be doing to them. It made him anxious and ill. One such occasion he came home just as some guy was parading around without a shirt on.

They briefly made eye contact, and Richie felt his grip tighten on the door handle. “Hey Rich,” Eddie called from the kitchen area, where he stood sipping coffee, the stranger’s oversized shirt on him and hanging off of one shoulder. He couldn’t bring himself to say anything. His eyes flickered back to the other man.

“Shouldn’t you be leaving?” He asked, in an unusually snippy tone, and the man laughed, before realizing Richie was serious. “I’m home. That’s usually the cue for fuckbuddies to fuck off." He said, and he wasn’t looking at him, but he practically heard Eddie’s jaw drop. The man simply put his hands up in defense, slipping his shoes on, as well as his coat. Eddie moved to put his coffee down and tug at the shirt, but the man - who was still just a stranger to Richie - replied 'keep it’, before going out the door.

"Good riddance,” Richie called after him as he slammed it behind him, and threw his bag down on the couch, flopping down beside it.

“You’re a fucking asshole,” Eddie said, and finally Richie looked at him in time to see the absolute fire in his eyes; if looks could kill, he’d be a dead man. “Why did you do that? I liked him. He’s never going to come back here after you behaved like that- like you’re my father.” Eddie said, and Richie cringed at such a comparison. He didn’t know why but it struck him in a way he really didn’t like.

“It’s my dorm too, Eds. When I come in, I shouldn’t have to see that.”

“You mean like I had to see your little 'friends with benefits’ thing with that girl? What was her name? Beverly..? I didn’t give you any shit for it.” Eddie didn’t think it was fair, starting to get worked up as his breathing got heavier. Richie felt bad. He glanced around quickly to find his roommate’s inhaler on the coffee table, just in case, and handed it to him. Eddie’s expression softened at the gesture.

“Look, Eds.”

"Please stop calling me that.”

“Eddie, then, I’m sorry. I’ve had a really long day. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but you’re right. I’m being an asshole.”

Eddie just scoffed in reply, “I’m going over to Bill’s. I’m so fucking upset at you right now,” he leaned over where Richie’s legs were sprawled out, shoes on the table, (something Eddie hated, which was the reason he chose to do it) to grab his sweater from the arm of the couch. Richie’s eyes only left the exposed skin of the other’s shoulder when the shirt Eddie was wearing rode up to reveal a small strip of waist. The smaller of the two looked back in time for them to lock gazes. “And you won’t care if I go have sex with him at his place, right?” He asked in a way that made Richie’s stomach drop, “Just so long as I don’t do it here?”

“It’s not my business what you do at someone else’s place, Eds.” Richie swallowed as he looked away. Just thinking of Eddie going somewhere else to fuck some guy made him feel like he was going to be sick.

"It's Eddie." The door slammed behind him.

'I don’t know what to do. I’ve never been homophobic, but for whatever fucked up reason, I’m being totally homophobic and shitty to my roommate. Is it because I’m okay with gay people but not living with them? What gives? Any advice would be great. I’m at a fucking loss here, and if I can’t figure it out I’ve decided the best option is to switch rooms. I don’t want to hurt Eddie more than I have already. Thanks!'

The moment Richie hit send, he was filled with regret. Would people find him hateful? Would they tell him to find a new roommate immediately..? Eddie deserved so much better, and he knew that. Not some homophobic creep. People online would agree. He felt nauseated again as he rose from his desk, but the pinging of a message brought him back. Already? He was cautious when he checked the message.

'are you sure that weird feeling isn’t jealousy..? I mean this only seems to revolve around Eddie specifically.’

He stared at the message in confusion. Jealousy? Not possible.

"Not sure what I’m meant to be jealous of. Sure he has a more active sex life than I do, but freaking out over that would just be irr-ation-al." He muttered what he was typing in the reply aloud to himself. Once he had hit send, he tapped his fingers on his desk loudly, knee bouncing a bit. Jealous. Huh.

Richie left the post up and decided to talk to Beverly about the situation. As previously complained about by Eddie, the two of them had tried the whole 'being together' thing at one point. It became clear very quickly that they were meant to just be friends.

'So I read some of your comments, and I talked to my best friend about the whole thing. She agrees with everything you've said, and has called me an oblivious walnut.'

"You oblivious walnut," Beverly pushed Richie in the arm, having just finished reading the original post he put together, "you're actually just joking, right? Rich, you're in love with him. And he's in love with you too."

"What?" Richie wasn't sure he heard that correctly. "How?"

"Here you mentioned how when you told him you didn't care who he slept with, he got even more upset. Also," she glanced back at him over her shoulder, "why would he bring up you and I? Sounds like he's been trying to make you jealous, Richie." She smirked, and he pushed his glasses up on his nose as he tried to think about just how plausible this all really was. It still didn't make sense. Even well after Beverly had gone he was just pacing and scratching his head.

'I spent a few days sitting on my ass trying to think about how to rationalize this to myself, or worse, to Eddie. It could really ruin our friendship. And if I didn't say anything and he got a boyfriend, I didn't think I could handle it. So I told him. During a Tarantino marathon we had - because nothing says romance like graphic violence, am I right?'

Richie drummed his fingers on his thigh as the diner scene from 'Pulp Fiction' played on their shared tv in the dorm room. Eddie sat beside him, his knees pulled up on the couch; and while his interest was in the movie, Richie couldn't keep himself from glancing over at him repeatedly. It had been three days since his realisation, and he didn't know that he could keep his mouth shut that much longer. Or any longer at all. In fact he felt like he was going to explode holding in the information.

"Eddie?"

"Yeah, Rich?" His eyes didn't leave the movie, and Richie fidgeted a bit as he turned his body toward him on the couch.

"I'm sorry for being such a dick lately." He told him, and finally Eddie looked at him, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Let me finish," Richie continued, already foreseeing the sassy remark on his roommate's tongue, "I was acting that way because I... I'm jealous." He finally admitted, letting out a nervous chuckle. Eddie watched him carefully, tilting his head.

"Like you would have trouble finding people to sleep with, Rich," he replied, giving him a smile that didn't appear to reach his eyes. Richie shook his head.

"No, Eds, I'm trying to say that... oh, shit." Richie muttered, voice shaking a little with anxiety. Eddie could sense this, and his smile faded as he focused on him. "I'm not jealous of you. I'm jealous of the boys you bring home."

'We had a loooong talk. Eddie revealed that his flirting had always been real. But he never imagined it would go anywhere, because I was just the oblivious "straight" guy. He got a real kick out of the fact that I had mistaken jealousy for homophobia. He laughed quite a bit. Man, his laugh is cute.'

"How the hell can someone be jealous for that long without even knowing they're jealous?" Eddie teased, and Richie let out a laugh.

"Denial..? Stupidity, maybe?" He offered up in suggestion, and Eddie giggled again, a sound that was music to Richie's ears. They laughed for a good few moments, but when finally it died down, they were left staring at each other in silence.

"You think we should.. kiss?" Richie finally asked, to which Eddie looked away almost bashfully - and Richie realised he had never seen him so open and vulnerable before. He had a usual sort of confidence around him that impressed Richie; but he was curious about what else there could be, too. It was like meeting him again for the first time.

'So we kissed and... to be honest, I've sort of never stopped wanting to kiss him since. We've gone on dates. It's so different now, though, going to all of our favourite places but with new context. And the kissing- did I mention the kissing? Yowza! Even last night when he almost burned dinner, because he just had to kiss me, I mean, I can't keep his hands off of-'

Richie stopped typing to laugh as his boyfriend was batting at his arm.

"You were the one who pulled me away from the stove!" Eddie giggled beside him, and Richie feigned offense.

"Excuse me, this is my story, Edward." He told him, expression serious as he moved his hand over his heart, "And I won't have you lying to all of these fine people."

"Alright, jackass, but when you're ready to really continue the story, I'll be in your bed." He smirked as he stood, and Richie glanced at him for a moment, before snickering and looking back to the laptop. "... Naked." Eddie added when he didn't get the response he wanted, before disappearing from the living room space.

"Oh shit," Richie breathed.

'okay WELP, I'm cutting this short. Thank you guys for all your help! In conclusion... plot twist! It turns out I don't have any problem with Eddie kissing guys if it's me he's kissing.'

With that, Richie hit send, and slammed the laptop shut; already pulling his shirt off as he dove onto his bed beside his giggling Eddie Spaghetti.

#reddie #mine #fic #myfic

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indelible-stars · 7 years ago

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So I finished reading ‘I Was Born For This’ by Alice Oseman and it was superb. Brilliant. A masterpiece. From the moment I heard about this book and what it was about I was intrigued. I’m so, so glad I won one of the giveaways and got the chance to read it early. It certainly lived up to the hype. The characters were loveable and real as Alice’s characters always are and I loved them all dearly. I wrote down my thoughts while reading so below is my stream of consciousness on what happens throughout the book.

MAJOR SPOILERS AHEAD BEWARE

MONDAY

ANGEL

• This is such a realistic meeting of two internet friends • Omg how could you do this Juliet? I'd die if this happened to me. I'd just combust on the spot or sink into the ground and stay there forever.

JIMMY

• I love,,, them? Yes boys • I want all their outfits • “If we can talk about anxiety we can talk about poo. They’re basically the same thing.” Sure sure true that true that • I love how Cecily says babe all the time. She's an icon • Our girls like our boys I love it • I already love the boys friendship so much and it's only Jimmy's first chapter

ANGEL

• Mac is such a basic bitch. There's so many guys like him that think they're original bc they like really popular slightly old bands. You're not that edgy stop.

JIMMY

• Bliss is Rowan's girlfriend???? I didn't expect that to be her role. I thought she was gonna be a fan.

ANGEL

• Mac can you go??? Or at least shut up • I like how realistic Juliet is. Like I'm annoyed on Angel's behalf but I get how she is. • I thought the ship was going to be Rowan and Lister!!! Ah but Jowan makes sense and I'm interested in how this will play into stuff • Convincing evidence...yeah they're totally together Angel...you keep telling yourself that sweetheart

JIMMY

• We're like brothers • I would actually love this band. The angel wings and aesthetic? Yes bitch fuck me up • Oh I'm glad Jimmy likes something about being in his band • I was born for this... title reference complete

TUESDAY

ANGEL

• Ah what cute platonic cuddling. Eh guys? That's what you're freaking about isn't it? Their beautiful friendship? Also it's really creepy that someone got pictures of them sleeping in their apartment. Like what? It's gross that celebrities have to go through that • I don't think you should base your point of living on a fandom relationship Angel....that might be unhealthy....Do you perchance think there's something else going on here?

JIMMY

• Note to self: never read the start of this chapter when on a plane • How Jimmy logically knows that he's not as likely to die on a plane than so many other things but is still panicked is super relatable. Like logic and anxiety do not coincide. Anxiety knows no reason • Ah what's on the iPad has been revealed! A photo taken out of context and ridiculous article • Two whole months? Damn Rowan's a tough one. I'd be annoyed at Lister too but he shouldn't have to be really careful. It's shitty that one photo can be posted and Jimmy is forced to come out. • Aw no Lister :( aw no Jimmy :( how gross and invasive that someone else took it. Fuck man. I'd be terrified • Ro Ro. • No I just want my boys to love each other and be happy and safe :(

ANGEL

• Your dad might be getting at something Angel.... • Angel and her dad are cute. I like them • Everyone watching B99 all the time. Good choice in TV show. They know what they're doing • Yeah they just might not be thrilled at the situation girls.... • That sounds like a bloody long fanfic and how could it be a fave when the prospect of solo careers is involved?!?

JIMMY

• Shit I would not want any of those worst days. They really do sound awful • A secret for 2 years? That's pretty good going. Cecily well done • “Do you think if we hired a full-time bodyguard they’d do the hoovering for us?” bitch meee. Lister has his priorities in order. • Ah yes Alex you treat Jimmy as a person. The way he deserves • That new contract doesn't sound fun...not something that Jimmy will like... • Oh god Lister you mess • Ah this interview. Make it stop. I'm clenching up for them • Go away Dave! Give them a break • Breaking news: a fictional interviewer found dead by the hands of me

ANGEL

• I read Muliet as mullet and honestly? Same thing • “I think the truth is that everyone in the entire world is confused and nobody knows much of anything at all.” Angel speaking the goddamn truth. If I've never heard a more accurate statement. • Oh god Angel has balls I'd never be able to tell someone that I think someone they like's annoying • Oh is Juliet moving away from home...is that why she feels uncomfortable talking about parents? Did something blow up for her? • Ah Angel is a big name fan account. Why am I not surprised? • J2O my drink. My go to. My one true friend. • Omg is it Bliss? Why is Bliss there? • IT IS BLISS! • I love Bliss. It's been like 2 paragraphs but I love her! • "The world's a bit shit. Can't save it all at once." • “I learn that Bliss is bisexual. She says it with such extreme confidence that I'm suddenly jealous." Angel I relate. If it ain't me. • I wonder who your boyfriend’s best friend is Bliss.... • Well shit man... Angel sweetie how can you not believe love exists if Jowan isn't real? If only you knew you were saying this to Rowan's gf • Yeah it's ironic...it's not like it's actually Rowan or anything... • Omg Mac. Dude. • I can't believe they just left without her. Well, actually I can. • Alice is so good at writing nuanced sad moments. Like you ache for the characters and it's not even like they're balling their eyes out. Their feelings are just so real and shown in such simple ways.

JIMMY

• I love the transition with the flickering lights on both sides. Jimmy's grandad sounds ace and their apartment sounds lit! • ffs Lister. I couldn't live with him • Okay I need to state my love for Bliss again • Aw no my babes. Mummy and daddy are arguing. How dare fame ruin their relationship • Oh a cute X factor winner. Intriguing • Okay never mind he can get to fuck. Piss the hell away forever Magnet • Ooh Lister and Jimmy tension. Don't fight my boys. And I really wanna know what's up with Lister. • Honestly Jimmy is me if I ever became famous. Which is why I don't want to be. I could never handle it • I love Piero with all my heart • Ohmygod Jimmy my baby imma cry

WEDNESDAY

ANGEL

• Wow Tuesday was a long day. Never mind the rest of them. I'd be collapsing by now • Fuck. No. It wasn't her! No Bliss don't think it was Angel. Oh god poor Bliss. Who leaked it? I'll bloody get em. Is it someone in there life that has access to photos that's leaking them or something?

JIMMY

• Don't take this out on Lister! • Dave can actually die. I'll kill him yet again • Why must my boys hurt like this? Give them happiness goddammit!! • Screw getting big in America that contract sounds awful

ANGEL

• Yes Angel help the poor girl. I know it's a terrible circumstance but I'm happy they'll see each other again

JIMMY

• My boys no. In pain. No. Stop treating Lister as such a third wheel you don't notice him. Stop it all. Happiness only please

ANGEL

• "I will try to remain between you and the group of scary men at all times. Most of them are shorter than me. And I'm wearing heavy boots. If they get near us, I'll just kick. Like a giraffe." • Bliss and Angel? The ultimate friendship • Yasssssss @woman tripping the paps

JIMMY

• B99 mention number 3 • Ah yes some Jimmy and Lister quality bonding time. This is what I needed • "At once?" OMG I died haha. • “Druggie bisexual slut.” • The extremely famous girl band member is someone from Little Mix I bet • Does Lister like Jimmy? All these signs. I thought I was being tricked but does he? • A 32 year old woman? Fuck that's awful • Aw lister baby no :(

ANGEL

• “Is the word you're looking for "gay? It ain't poisonous.” • Did I mention I love bliss? Her every line is iconic • Mac’s been booted

JIMMY

• B99 again • Jimmy just stand outside in the rain don't go on a walk. Please be okay. Oh god • All the adorable old people in this book. They're so pure • This is so sad. My heart is aching

THURSDAY

JIMMY

• Jimmy and Angel are gonna meet! They're gonna meet!!!! I’m kinda scared about what will happen. • #LetListerWearTheBinbag2K18 • I want Jimmy's clothes. All of the things he just mentioned? I want • Yes Rowan fuck it up with that dress!! • I love the cape moment. My boy • How can you forget your birthday Jimmy? Ah • Oh I love the boys being happy and having fun and being...boys. Yes you dance to the Killers

ANGEL

• Love isn't a lie Angel!!!

JIMMY

• Why Lister whyyy • Lister does like Jimmy! Oh jesus. So much drama. I want Jimmy to like him back. I want there to be happiness. Don't kiss him while you're in the bathroom and drunk Lister! Oh god. Fuck

ANGEL

• Something bad has happened with Juliet and probably her parents. Why don't you see that Angel? • Piss off Mac. He has a point but I still wanna punch him • Jesus so much drama. Poor Juliet. Poor everyone. Why can't they have a second of a break?

JIMMY

• I'm nervous now. What's going to happen? Something big probably is going to happen when Angel and Jimmy meet or idk

ANGEL

• WTF WTF WTF WHAT HAPPENED TO ROWAN? WTF

JIMMY

• Someone threw a brick? What? Oh Jesus no! That girl can go to hell! Fuck. How did she even manage to get away with having a brick with her?? • Make this stop. Make this stop • Cecily! Save them! • They're meeting this is it. • Oh god • She's not going to hurt you Jimmy!

ANGEL

• Ah no • Don't be scared of each other • By god I think she's got it! Yes a panic attack Angel! A panic attack. Help him please • First Bliss and now Jimmy. Angel really is the saviour • Fuck man that was one hell of a meeting

JIMMY

• Your fans aren't monsters guys. I mean some of them are but they're real people just like you. Of course they'd help you in that situation

ANGEL

• Why can't my boys and my girls all just have happiness? Give them happiness goddammit. At least some peace • My,,,heart,,,Is,,,aching

FRIDAY

ANGEL

• All the emotions in this book are so real. I feel them in my gut • No Angel don't leave this way! • Mac. It's Mac. Time for a heart to heart • Juliet my girl my gal she deserves better. I want to hug her. I can't believe some parents can just do stuff like that. • She did take the knife! This is how they'll meet again though. The knife will bring them together

JIMMY

• They never have time my boys. They need to talk to Lister about his relationship with alcohol. Rowan deserves a relationship not affected so deeply by fame. Jimmy deserves so so much and it's not getting more anxious. They need to not sign the new contract • Rain rain so much rain • Jimmy that probably isn't a good idea..... but y'know what! Run. Go.

ANGEL

• Yes Angel you choose Juliet! • Or y'know Jimmy can message you... • Angel you be his bodyguard!!!!!

JIMMY

• He asked her to stay. Oh my babies. They're going to see Piero together ;_; • I love seeing Angel from Jimmy's perspective so much

ANGEL

• This whole section I just my heart is swelling • His grandma was called Joan. I'm going to cry • Piero my man I love him. He's adorable • Piero is wise. Piero speaks the truth. Jimmy and Angel both need to sort their shit out my babes

JIMMY

• No Jimmy please don't leave the ark just get a better contract. Idk. Ah this is so sad.

SATURDAY

ANGEL

• It's the boys. "I've got a bone to pick with you." Lol. Angry • This is certainly one way to meet your favourite band your obsessed with

JIMMY

• Jimmy noooooo • This isn't Angels fault Rowan. Just because she's a fictional protagonist so ends up in all these wild situations. • That's right Piero you tell em

ANGEL

• Angel you really gotta stop leaving without telling people • Yes Angel talk to your mummy. Is every interaction in this book going to split open my heart? • I wanna hug Angel so badly. I wanna hug them all • Statement of my love for Bliss again

JIMMY

• They're jamming like they used to. I'm going to cry. I never cry at books but I think I'm going to cry. • Why are they all so broken? Why do they have to break up? My heart it can't take this • Juliet is coming. The gang will be complete

ANGEL

• "I'm going to need another glass of milk" • Yes you definitely should care about yourselves more

JIMMY

• NO don't fight and leave NO • I'm going to need this fighting and hurt to stop now please. Time for happiness. Chip chop • Exactly don't let them leave Piero. It needs to be bloody resolved • Goddammit Lister. Just. Goddammit • Lister definitely has the knife doesn't he? • I'm so sad and there's not much left. This better get resolved enough for me to be smiling by the end or help me god

ANGEL

• Where's Lister? Jesus it just keeps coming. This needs to stop • Yes Juliet you snap at your idol. Don't take any shit girl

JIMMY

• Why do Angel and Jimmy both think everything is there fault. Stop it. Just. Ugh. My babies no • This weather is dramatic • Oh fuck. Oh no. Lister!!!! No. Why ah my heart no fuck no. Why the hELL would you do this to him? Why write this? Ahhhh • What the fu k? What the FUCK? WHY?

SUNDAY

ANGEL

• Yes yes yes. Angel would make a great band manager • I want Angel and Jimmy to stay in touch. I love their photos. I love these characters. It's nearly over and I'm not ready

JIMMY

• Yes guys you do whatever you want! Fuck the contract! Live your life! Be the band you're meant to be! I love them so much and yeah they're all a right much of weirdos • And I'm finished. My heart has gone through so much. I love all these characters. I want more of them. I don't want it to be over

damn that was a good book! @chronicintrovert well done!!

#alice oseman #iwbft #wow this is bloody long jesus

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ndrv3winterexchange · 7 years ago

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wool and chocolate [kuzuhina; fluff; warm and fuzzy as heck]

hi there, umeko ( @umekopyan )!!! you asked for something fluffy with kuzuhina, so i tried my best to deliver. it was my first writing this ship, so i hope i didn’t fail too badly c; anyway, please enjoy your gift! <3

“Y'know what?”

“There’s an enormous chance that I do know, but, please, feel free to enlighten me.”

Rolling his eyes, Fuyuhiko elbows Izuru in the ribs, more out of habit than annoyance, then sips his lemonade and says,

“Call me a fuckin’ sap, but I kinda miss winter.”

Izuru’s brows twitch a little. So - he’s surprised. A lot. Or maybe he’s not surprised, but only decided to move his brows for one of those reasons that make no sense now, but will later turn out to be vital to the fate of the entire universe or some shit. Who the fuck knows.

As the boy besides him busies himself with, who the hell knows, compressing the new input data, Fuyuhiko digs his fingertips into the warm sand and shifts them a bit, enjoying how the light grains feel, all airy and nice, and then moves on to enjoying how this entire situation feels - shit, it’s almost December, and here he is, on a tropical island, with his friends, his partner (he will not call Hajime nor Izuru a boyfriend. He will not.) and Nanami’s AI keeping him company, chilling underneath the blazing sun and occasionally sending Naegi and co. ideas on how to un-fuck up the world.

“I presume you mean the atmosphere of the winter and not the weather, right?” Izuru slips the sunglasses onto his nose. “As a person of a quite… short and thin stature, you must get cold quite easily, right? And that is not a pleasant feeling.” He pauses for a second, nods to himself and adds, completely putting out Fuyuhiko’s ebbing offense, “I think.”

“You think?!”

Time, just like it always does, passes. The small conversation is gradually forgotten as Fuyuhiko finds himself dealing with more pressing issues, such as talking Naegi out of the mindset that reopening Hope’s Peak without any changes to its regulations would be a good idea.

Don’t tell anyone about it, but Fuyuhiko ends up calling Naegi’s associate (yeah, just like that, associate, all ambiguity implied), the original Togami kid, and having him conspire with that asshole Munakata. In the end, though, it works out. Naegi has a nice, long, public speech about how Hope’s Peak will now be open for everyone, that the classrooms will be named after perished Future Foundation workers, society this, equality that. Cool. And people seem to dig it, of course.

Then, the next week, Koizumi relapses and hits Sonia over the head with her shitty Polaroid camera, giving her a nasty concussion. Both girls end up in the hospital, one unconscious, another restrained in her bed and sobbing. Hajime swears a blue streak, then squeezes Fuyuhiko’s hand and gives place to Izuru. He spends the entire night examining Sonia while his partner spends the night at Peko’s cottage, hiding worry behind irritation. In the end, though, it all turns out okay. Sonia’s hair, still short and messy after the haircut she had to give herself after waking up from the simulation, is now pressed to her skull with bandages, while Koizumi slowly picks herself back up and takes photos of tropical fruits and rare clouds.

Life goes on.

On the beautiful early morning of December the twenty fifth, Fuyuhiko wakes up to an empty bed. Usually, this wouldn’t concern him - Izuru likes going for morning runs - but last night Hajime said that Izuru’s tired of people and probably won’t show up for the next few days. And Hajime himself is the exact opposite of an early riser. So, all things considered; what the fuck.

To hell with that. Fuyuhiko can start thinking about it after he gets some coffee. Bleary-eyed and yawning, he throws the blanket off himself and shuffles to the door of his cottage. Opens it. Freezes.

It’s snowing. It’s. Fucking. Snowing. The cottages’ roofs are covered in white, the air whipping at him brings so much cold it almost makes him squeak (almost! almost, for fuck’s sake!), and just- What the hell.

“What the fuck.”

“Hi, Fuyuhiko,” Izuru says flatly, peeking out from behind the cottage next to theirs. His expression gives away no emotions - but the tone of his voice is almost fucking pleased. Fuyuhiko gapes at him, then points, rather dumbly, at the snow, then at the cloudy sky, then at Izuru, then, once again, at the snow. And Izuru nods. “As you can see - it worked. You got your winter.”

“How the fuck?!” Fuyuhiko screeches, half-convinced he’s gonna wake up from this goddamn dream any second now. “We’re by the fucking equator!”

“Two Super Highschool Level Lucks should not be underestimated,” Izuru says, thumping his chest in a decidedly Hajime-style gesture. Asshole.

Still. What the fuck.

Watching Saionji throw a snowball at an unexpecting Souda, Fuyuhiko snickers and moves away from the window, all toasty and happy in the hotel’s old building, with the chimney (honestly, the good luck) burning hot and filling the main room with a warm glow.

And then, to make the moment even more disgustingly sappy, Hajime hands him a cup of hot chocolate. Fuyuhiko nods in approval and pats his partner’s shoulder, sliding to the couch; Hajime sits by his side with his own mug. They sit for a while in pleasant silence, just enjoying the sheer absurdity of the situation - and each other’s presence too, Fuyuhiko supposes. They sip their drinks, watch the flames shimmy in the fireplace. People outside are laughing and shouting at each other; at one point, Sonia and Tanaka, red-cheeked and with matching grins, bust in, stay for ten minutes, ask Hajime to give Izuru his thanks for bringing the snow, then go back to do whatever the fuck they’ve been doing. Maybe drawing pentagrams in the snow to summon a winter tengu, or some creepy shit like that. When Fuyuhiko shares this theory, Hajime chokes on his chocolate and has to get a hearty pat on his back.

“Thanks,” Hajime wheezes out, reaching out to loop his arm around Fuyuhiko’s shoulder. “You’re awesome.”

“Says the guy who literally has all the talents available,” Fuyuhiko snorts, “including the ability to fucking make it snow on a tropical island.”

“What, you’re not enjoying this?” Oh shit, he looks troubled now. Good job, Kuzuryuu!

“Of course I am!” Fuyuhiko spits out, hastily adjusting his eyepatch. “I’m just really fucking confused, is all. But happy too!” he adds when he sees Hajime pout. “Thank you for breaking the laws of common sense just to give me some good memories, I guess.”

“Huh.” Hajime perks up. “You’re welcome. Now,” he stands up and offers Fuyuhiko his hand, “wanna go for a walk?”

“Hell yeah I do.” Smirking, Fuyuhiko intertwines his fingers with Hajime’s and gets to his feet.

The first thing that happens after they get outside is that Fuyuhiko gets hit with a strong blast of chill wind - and falls onto his ass. Hajime, the jackass, laughs so hard his legs give out and he ends up in the snow drift too.

“Rest in shit, Kuzuryuu,” he has the guts to say. Frowning, Fuyuhiko gets up and brushes the snow off himself, coming to the painful realization that the cheap gloves he got in the supermarket ain’t exactly water-proof. Fuck.

“If I end up catching a cold, it’ll be your fault,” he grumbles. “And it’ll be your fucking duty to take care of me, got it?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Hajime reaches out to stick his hand in Fuyuhiko’s jacket pocket. “I can even wear a nurse costume.”

“I hope to fucking god you’re shitting me.”

“Who knows? Izuru wouldn’t have anything against dressing up, I suppose.”

“You’re a dick.”

“You love me though.” Hajime grins. “Wanna share a scarf?”

Fuyuhiko shrugs, then watches Hajime unwrap it from around his neck. It’s quite a bitching thing, tightly knitted and in a shade of green (olive? Avocado? Fuck, it’d be nice to have an avocado sandwich) that matches his eyes. Not like Fuyuhiko noticed that before, of course. He may be gay, but he isn’t, like, y'know. Gay.

“There we go.” Humming to himself, Hajime bundles the thing - Jesus Christ, it’s really fucking long (did he make it himself?!) - around Fuyuhiko’s, then around his own neck, and once again pushes his cold-ass palm into his partner’s pocket. This time - the back pocket on his pants.

“Smooth, Hinata,” Fuyuhiko drawls. “If I wasn’t that chill, I’d punch you in the face.”

“And you’d lose this,” Hajime tugs on the scarf, “source of warmth. I dunno if punching me would be worth it.”

“Right.” Rolling his eyes, Fuyuhiko wraps his fingers around Hajime’s elbow and pulls gently. “Let’s go for this fucking walk then.”

“Alright.” Hajime looks him in the eye (ha!) and smiles. It’s warm, bright and way too fucking gentle. Ugh. “Let’s go.”

#kuzuhina #sdr2 #hajime hinata #izuru kamukura #fuyuhiko kuzuryuu #submission

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