#ah.. the struggles of a queer middle schooler

[jameslongforjimshortforgabriel]

guys I can't take it anymore I like her so MUCH i just wanna LOOK AT HER and BE WITH HER and I just thinka bout KISSING her bcs she's SO GODDAMN PRETTY and I just can't stop LOVING HER but at the same time I DON'T KNOW HOW TO DO THAT do you see my problem

[mamabearcat]

Keys to Her Heart Ch 2

CHAPTER TWO

Natsu caught a glimpse of a long shiny gold braid as it swung in mid-air, and couldn't help grinning to himself in the semi-darkness. He was going to get to meet his mysterious woman after all!

He admired the heart shaped view of her behind in her jeans as she leaned across the front seat to grab a small backpack, and then winced in sympathy as she banged the back of her head on the opening of the car door. Rubbing her head, and muttering to herself, she turned and seeing him, immediately stopped in her tracks.

"Oh no, not you", she groaned audibly.

Natsu laughed aloud. "Not the response I usually get, but I'll take it. Ms Heartfilia, I presume?"

Lucy sighed. Was she doomed to continually embarrass herself in front of this man? She had always been clumsy, often because her thoughts seemed to move faster than her body, but today her timing seemed particularly bad.

Pushing her glasses back firmly on her slightly freckled nose, she walked forward into the light, her cheeks flaming. Natsu felt a queer sensation whoop in his stomach. The yellow-toned overhead lighting from the car park seemed to give her hair a golden halo, and made her pale face seem almost translucent, apart from the rosy glow of her blush. As she walked towards him, a gentle drizzle began to fall, adding diamond star sparkles to her hair. Her clear brown eyes were the colour of rich caramel, shot with amber flecks, and he felt as if he could dive into them, fall into their depths, and never come up for air. He gulped and was almost ashamed to hear a soft whine escaping from the back of his throat.

Lucy thrust her small hand out towards him in a business-like manner. "I hope I didn't hold up the beginning of the tour Mr.?"

He swallowed. Taking her smaller hand in his for the second time today, Natsu went to shake it gently, but was surprised at her firm grip and the steady way her eyes remained on his. He grinned. He hated it when people gave limp handshakes with no pressure – Ms. Heartfilia was a woman who took no prisoners. "Dragneel, but you can call me Natsu. Everyone around here does."

"I see. So where is the rest of the tour?" Lucy looked around her, expecting to see a group milling around in the carpark somewhere. "I thought I was late!" Noticing her slight anxiety, Natsu was quick to reassure her.

"Don't worry. We weren't quite ready to leave yet anyway. They're all inside at the moment, finishing up on dinner. If you're a fast eater, you might have time to join them."

"Oh, I'm not hungry..." she began to say, but was called out on the fib by the loud rumble from her stomach. Natsu grinned toothily at her, one of his canine teeth poking out over his bottom lip. Lucy's stomach rolled again, but not in hunger. There was that smile again, god dammit, the one he had given her this morning after probably realising just how embarrassed she was.

Chuckling at her loudly protesting stomach, Natsu began walking out of the car park towards the arched doorway behind them. "No one dies from starvation on my watch. Come in to the pub – I'm sure Macao can organise some dinner for you quickly. I'll order it for you while you sit down".

He pushed the dark green door open, bending slightly at the waist, with an 'after you' gesture, and she walked through, still blushing furiously. Why was this man affecting her this way? Yes, she was usually shy, she didn't have that much experience interacting with men outside her work, but she didn't usually become a bumbling idiot. She started to walk towards one of the long tables near the doorway, but was startled when Natsu suddenly hollered behind her.

"Hey Macao. Ms. Heartfilia made it here after all. She needs dinner!" A middle-aged man with dark hair and a moustache at the bar nodded at him, and then turned to a doorway behind him.

"Mira, another steak and chips for one of Natsu's guests." He looked at Natsu questioningly for a moment with an eyebrow raised. Natsu looked back at him with a blank expression until the penny dropped.

"Would mademoiselle like salad or vegetables with her meal?" Natsu inquired, using an atrociously bad French accent.

Looking slightly bemused at the whole exchange, Lucy replied, "Salad", and giggled when the word was hollered by Natsu to Macao, and then by Macao to the empty doorway, that Lucy surmised was the pub's kitchen. A cheerful voice responded back, "Coming right up!"

"Can I order you a drink Ms. Heartfilia?" Natsu asked genially, liking the sound of the giggle, very much. "Beer, wine, juice, water?"

"A beer please", replied Lucy. Natsu grinned toothily at her again, placing a hand on his chest.

"Ah, a woman after my own heart. Back in a sec", he said, walking over to the bar.

Lucy looked around the warm interior, which looked like it hadn't changed that much in the last hundred years. There were a few snug corners with overstuffed armchairs and small tables, but the majority of the room was taken up with long dark wooden tables and benches. A huge wooden mantlepiece framed a stone fireplace with a crackling fire, which added a cheerful glow to the room. Around the walls were lots of dark wooden frames containing what looked like historical photos. Lucy was about to go and look at them more carefully when she noticed an older couple sitting at the long trestle table closest to the fire. They waved and smiled at her when they caught her eye.

"Are you going on the ghost tour tonight too dear?", the lady asked her. She was dressed comfortably in jeans and a red woollen poncho, her silver hair pulled up into a messy bun. The man sitting next to her smiled at the woman next to him; he too was dressed comfortably, wearing jeans and a rugby jersey.

"Yes" Lucy smiled in return. It seemed rude not to, when they were being so friendly.

"Come up closer and join us then" the older woman said, patting the space beside her on the bench encouragingly. "I'm Elsie, and this is John. It will be nice to have a chat while we're waiting".

"How did you hear about the tour?" Lucy began, as a beer and a large plate with salad, chips and a piece of steak the size of a small handbag appeared in front of her. Lucy turned to thank the serving person, only to realise it was Natsu himself. Natsu slid into the bench seat next to her, and she felt the colour in her cheeks rise again, as her stomach flip flopped when his thigh brushed against hers. She smiled a small thanks, and he produced a serviette, fork and steak knife from behind his back, assuming the theatrical flair of a magician who had just produced a rabbit out of a hat. Giggling at him again, she set to it, slicing into the steak. It was tender and juicy and smelt delicious.

"Oh, we're staying at the guesthouse in town", answered Elsie, "and it was on the noticeboard. It seemed like a bit of a fun thing to do. We're travelling around Australia, now that we've retired, and this is our first stop. How did you hear about it?"

Lucy wanted to answer, but was hampered by the large piece of meat she was struggling to get down. The steak was wonderful, done just how she liked it, but she usually preferred to take her time over this sort of meal, and not have to wolf it down. She struggled it down and reached for her beer. After taking a sip, she explained to Elsie about the flyer she found at the supermarket and deciding to come on the tour only today. Having finished their meal, Elsie and John excused themselves to return to the bar for another drink, and Lucy went back to attacking her steak with gusto.

"Hope the steak's done to your liking?" Natsu asked, watching her eat as he sipped his own beer, having eaten his meal prior to Lucy arriving. "Mira prides herself on her steak cooking ability."

Lucy swallowed another chunk of steak. "It's really good", she answered. "I'm just not used to eating such a large meal this fast."

"Well, you're getting closer to cattle country here – just over the mountain range are some of the best places for beef in New South Wales" Natsu said, gesturing vaguely off to the west. "We like to get our money's worth."

"It was worth coming on the tour just for this steak", smiled Lucy.

"Oh, so my tour is worthless now, is it?" Natsu winked at her. "I'll have to see if I can change your mind. You've got ten minutes before the tour begins here in the basement of the pub". He got up from his seat unhurriedly, nodded and smiled to Elsie and John, who had just returned with their drinks, and went to introduce himself to the other tour guests.

"Such a nice young man", said Elsie.

"Too nice by half", muttered Lucy, gazing at him as he bent to talk to the group of high schoolers grouped around the pool table.

"What was that dear?", asked Elsie, smiling. Her husband John winked at Lucy, and gave her a little elbow in the ribs, as he and Elsie shared a knowing glance.

Lucy blushed slightly, and covered her embarrassment by forking an unfeasibly large piece of steak into her mouth, struggling to chew down the delicious meat. She mentally chastised herself. She could usually talk to people without resembling a beetroot. Of course, the colleagues that she mixed with at the University were at least twenty years older than her. She was lucky to be accepted at all as a research assistant into the Astronomy Department – so many other students would have begged to have her position. She did enjoy her work, and the professional distance in the faculty suited her.

Even while she'd been a student, she'd felt a little apart from the others – there was no Mum and Dad to go back to during the semester breaks like they had; she'd been working two part-time jobs as a kitchen hand and a hotel cleaner to pay for the rent and all her text books, and she hadn't had funds spare to go away for weekends or out to the pub. She liked being alone. This working holiday was just what she needed. Glancing at the clock, she noticed how little time she had left to tackle the steak and set to it.

The cool night air fanned Lucy's hair as she looked out of the bus window at the darkening sky, the not so distant thunder echoing the occasional bang from the minibus motor. The evening had been quite fun actually.

The beginning of the tour in the cellar of the pub would have been interesting, if she'd been able to hear it over the sepulchral moans of the local high school boys, and the occasional squeal of the girlfriends when their hair was pulled, or they were pinched on the backside by their boyfriends.

Natsu had a short talk to the boys, one of which he seemed to know quite well. They calmed down after that, with only whispering and giggling interrupting Natsu's talk. After that, they all piled into a mini bus and went to the older part of Magnolia Cemetery, and Natsu handed each of them a candle in an old-fashioned hinged lantern. Lucy had raised her eyebrows at him, but he winked at her.

"Go along with it, it's all part of the fun", he whispered. After he had lit all their candles, he led them on a tour around, pointing out the weathered headstones of convicts' graves, and monuments to notable people who had founded Magnolia. He then led the way to the middle of the cemetery, where there was an open space amongst the rusted leaning cast iron fences that surrounded some of the graves. The wind was whistling through the eucalyptus trees overhead, and they could see distant lightning on the skyline behind the mountains out west. Lucy shivered.

"The mountains were first crossed by settlers and convicts in the early 1800's", began Natsu, "but it wasn't until the mid-1800's that Magnolia was first established. Down in Sydney, the summer heat combined with the lack of sewerage combined to create some very 'foul emanations' which many health professionals of the day believed caused diseases."

Natsu began pacing around amongst the graves, his strong voice echoing amongst the gravestones. The wind picked up, whipping the dark pink hair around his forehead, the thunder rumbling in the background dramatically. Lucy had to admit, he was definitely setting the scene. Quite a few of the high school girls were now gripping their boyfriends tightly.

"Our little mountain town became very popular as a sanitorium for the rich, as the bracing mountain air was praised as a cure all for consumption, or tuberculosis as it is properly called. During that time, tuberculosis was seen as a "romantic disease". When the British poet Lord Byron wrote "I should like to die from consumption", it became popularised as the disease of artists. But nothing can be further than the truth."

Here Natsu paused dramatically, and the wind chose that moment to push against the old rusted gate of the cemetery, causing it to squeak alarmingly. "There was a reason that the disease was known as consumption – because as the disease progressed, it seemed to consume the individual from within, with their weight drastically dropping until they were skin and bone."

Natsu began walking slowly in amongst the guests, holding his lantern up close to his face in the darkness, the shadows flickering over his features. "Night sweats and chills, and violent uncontrollable coughing were the fate of the sufferer as the disease gradually spread to other organs of the body – death was inevitable."

Natsu paused behind Lucy. "Spare a thought for those who travelled to the mountains to be cured, but who never returned home to their loved ones. I'd like you all to blow out your candles, and think of them for a moment."

Elsie and John blew out their candles, as did the boys, after a quick grin at each of their girlfriends. After a moment's hesitation, so did Lucy. Natsu was the last to blow out his candle.

For a moment, the darkness seemed impenetrable, but as her eyes adjusted, Lucy looked around. The gum trees stood sentinel around the edges of the small graveyard, looking slim and pale in the moonlight. She glanced up, and gasped as she saw the multitudes of stars in the heavens, which were invisible in metropolitan Sydney, the familiar constellations bringing joy to her heart. A meteor sped across her vision, and she felt Natsu's warm breath on her neck, as he whispered "Make a wish…" close to her ear.

A sudden flash of lightning, and deafening crack of thunder a second behind it made them all jump. Natsu produced a torch from his backpack, and led the way back to the bus.

Just after everyone had made their way up the stairs of the minibus, the rain started. Big fat drops chased each other down the window as Lucy peered out into the darkness, trying to see down into the valley.

Natsu apologised over his shoulder to his guests as he concentrated on keeping the bus on the slippery winding road. "I'm very sorry to announce this, but I'll have to cut our tour short; I think the weather is against us. We had one more stop, but it's steep there at the best of times, and for safety reasons, I'm going to have to cancel the rest of the evening."

There were some groans from the boys in the back seat, and Lucy felt a wave of disappointment – the one part of the tour that she had really wanted to see and it wasn't going to happen. Natsu added. "But, I'm happy to give you all a credit to come along again on the evening tour next week, if you're available, or to come some other time.

After dropping off the older couple, Natsu turned the little bus towards FairyTail Inn. The rain was so heavy now that they could hardly see the carpark outside the pub. The boys and girls all piled into two beat up cars and drove off into the night, and Lucy dashed over to her little VW. After sliding into her seat, she turned on the motor. The engine gave a screeching sound, but refused to turn over.

"C'mon, c'mon you bucket of bolts, start for me", begged Lucy, but it was no use. The battery was dead. Lucy leaned her head on the steering wheel, and was startled by a tap next to her on the driver's side car window. She turned, knowing exactly who it would be before she set eyes on him. Natsu's eyes were twinkling.

"It really doesn't seem to be your day, does it."

Lucy groaned. "I knew I should have just stayed in the cottage instead of coming on this tour. I was jinxed from the start."

Natsu grinned cheekily at her. "I'm afraid I can't do anything about your car. Macao has already driven off in the bus, which belongs to him. But I live just around the corner, if you don't mind a quick dash in the rain, and then I can give you a lift home. You're staying in Rose Cottage, aren't you?"

Lucy thought for a moment. In Sydney, she would have fobbed off a suggestion like this from a stranger and said no thank you. But there was something about Natsu that made her feel like she could trust him. He'd helped her when she'd fallen over this morning, hadn't she?

Natsu sensed her indecision. "If it helps, I live with my 85-year-old Grandmother. I doubt she'd allow anything untoward with a young lady whom I'd only just met. But, if you'd rather, I can call Gajeel the local mechanic, but we'd have to wait here in the car – the pub is closed up early because it's a week night."

Lucy weighed up her options. Call the local mechanic and wait in the dark in a small car with a man she barely knew, or go home with a man she barely knew, with a possibly fictitious grandmother acting as chaperone. She really didn't know much about Natsu at all, apart from the fact that he ran a ghost tour, was friendly with the local barman, and had warm hands and a nice smile that went all the way up to his eyes.

Natsu played his trump card.

"Gran had a Lemon Delicious pudding in the oven when I left. I'm willing to share, but I have to admit it's a wrench. Her cooking is awesome."

Lucy made her decision. "All right, I'll come with you, Mr Dragneel. But if you turn out to be a cold-blooded killer, I'll haunt you and your ghost tour for all eternity".

Natsu laughed. "I promise, the only thing I murder around here is a curry. And please call me Natsu, or that pudding is all mine. I only share Gran's cooking with friends I'm on a first name basis with."

Lucy found herself smiling back. "Ok, Natsu it is then. I'll have to share your umbrella I'm afraid – I didn't bring one."

"No problem Lucy", smiled Natsu, and held the umbrella over her as she manoeuvred her way out of the car and locked it. Once she was standing next to him, he handed the umbrella to her and stepped away.

"No, you'll be soaked!" she protested, trying to hold it over him as well, but it was difficult as he was much taller.

"Just keep it over you. The rain's too heavy to keep us both dry. Besides, I have clean clothes at home, you don't", he reasoned. Lucy decided they would get moving faster if she didn't argue, and they set off.

"How old did you say your grandmother is?", asked Lucy, as she tried to make conversation over the sound of the rain and the rumble of thunder in the background. She sincerely hoped they wouldn't get struck by lightning on the way home.

"Eighty-five", replied Natsu, "she'll be eighty-six in two weeks. She's a tough old lady. She and my Grandad moved over here from Wales when she was in her twenties. No doubt she'll quiz you on your family history."

Lucy raised a quizzical eyebrow at him, trying not to notice as he pushed his fingers through his now drenched hair, sending rivulets of rainwater down his face and throat, and under the collar of his shirt.

Natsu shrugged. "I've never heard the name Heartfilia before, and Gran loves family history. She runs…" he halted, momentarily, "she used to run the local historical society, and did genealogical research for people. Aren't you researching something like that for a book? You might have lots in common."

"Really? She probably knows where a lot of the records I need to access are then! That's amazing!", Lucy squealed in excitement. Natsu made a show of pretending to clean out the ear closest to Lucy with his little finger.

"What's that? You'll have to repeat it, I don't think you screamed it quite loud enough, ya weirdo", said Natsu, grinning at the way Lucy's eyes narrowed at him.

"Shut up!" she pouted, pushing his arm as he cackled at her response. "There's nothing weird about being excited about what you love doing! I really enjoy doing research, and it will be exciting to meet someone else who probably enjoys it too, based on what you've just told me."

"Don't worry, I'm just teasin' ya. So, what's a research expert, probably a big shot Professor, doing coming on my crummy little ghost tour?"

"It wasn't crummy!" protested Lucy, pushing his arm again. "I really enjoyed it. The graveyard was particularly atmospheric", she grinned.

Natsu chuckled. "I know. That thunder really set the mood; it's a shame I can't plan for a storm every time."

"I was impressed at the amount of historical detail you went into", Lucy continued. "I have to admit", she confessed guiltily, "my expectations really weren't set too high."

"Ah, I had help with that bit. My friend Levy, the local librarian, provided a lot of that information. And Gran too of course. Between the two of them, there's not much they don't know about Magnolia."

"This is amazing!" laughed Lucy. "Not even the first day, and I have leads on two people that can help with my research! It's just a shame that we didn't get to go to that last place on your tour. That's where I really wanted to go, because that bushranger, Mad Dog Craddock, that's who I'm writing about."

"No problem", grinned Natsu toothily. "If the rain lets up, I can take ya there tomorrow. I'm not on call, and I don't have any plans. Just have ta finish a few repair jobs for Gran, and then you've got me for the whole day".

"Oh, um, I don't want you to go to too much trouble…", began Lucy hesitantly.

"No, it's no trouble at all", beamed Natsu. "Unless…", he stopped, a slow look of growing comprehension moving across his face. "Natsu, you idiot", he muttered to himself.

Turning to look Lucy in the eye, he said "Lucy, I'm really sorry. I wasn't even thinking. You don't know me at all, and I'm probably making you uncomfortable. It's probably weird enough that you're walking home with a total stranger." He sighed, stepping around a large puddle that had formed in the footpath in front of them. He looked up at her again. "I guess I was forgetting that you're not from around here, and usually I don't hesitate to offer to do stuff like this, because everyone knows who I am. But you don't. I totally understand if you wouldn't feel right going somewhere alone with me. I promise I won't be offended."

He moved in front of her to open a cast iron small gate and gestured for her to move through before him. "Here's Gran's house. I did offer a chaperone and dessert."

He walked up the path to the veranda of the federation house, sweeping his wet pink locks off his face again, and produced a key from his pocket. Just as Lucy stepped onto the veranda, the rain let up. "Figures", smiled Natsu. He opened the front door, letting the welcoming light in the hallway spill out to greet them. Lucy shook as much water off the umbrella as she could, and after leaning it up against the railing on the veranda, followed Natsu inside.

So, another chapter. Lucy and Natsu are starting to get to know each other. I know Natsu is a little flirty in this AU, but he grew up differently to the manga, in a stable home in a small town with lots of friends. He's a very cheerful flirt - it's just his way of being friendly.

Lucy did not grow up in a nice environment in this AU; she's very self protective, and doesn't handle being out of her comfort zone that well. She tends to rely on her intellect, and is a bit of an introvert (not that there's anything wrong with that, I'm one myself!). This is not something Natsu will 'cure' her of, it's just part of her personality. She's warming up to Natsu though, probably a lot quicker than she realises. She'll have to work out if she's comfortable enough in his company to ask for help.

[mikeshanlon]

he’s all that: chapter one

fandom: it

pairing: reddie (richie tozier/eddie kaspbrak)

word count: 3.8k

on ao3

summary: 

Richie smiled smugly, “You’ve got spunk Kaspbrak. I like that.”

“Why don’t you try shutting the fuck up Tozier,” Eddie retorted as the line moved forward, “So what is this, if not some ploy to get me to tutor you? Some sort of dork outreach program? Because I’m not interested.”

---

Or: The one where Richie Tozier has six weeks to get into a relationship and make someone fall for him. Only problem? That someone is the anxiety ridden, goody two shoes Eddie Kaspbrak, and he can't even stand to be in the same room as Richie.

warnings: there is drug use in that bev/mike/richie are HUGE stoners. 

a/n: hello!!! hope you enjoy this fic, i will try to update it at least every other sunday (i'll figure out the exact number of chapters before i post chapter two, but it probably won't be more than 10). you don't need to have watched she's all that to get this, although there will be some small easter eggs/quotes from the movie. but the movie has not aged well and is very Heteronormative so like.... no need to watch it lmao. 

Senior year— it was what just about any kid in the public schooling system looked forward to. You were high school royalty, enjoying the last hurrah with booze and dancing before being sent off to make your mark on the world. Lanky limbs that weren’t yet grown into became muscled and toned, hips were wider and swayed. Brains were wiser, skin was touched more, and smiles were brighter. It was a time of transformation and change.

Except, senior year was almost over, and Richie Tozier felt like he hadn’t really changed at all. Sure, in the last four years he shot up to 6’2, his voice was deeper, and he wasn’t such a fucking outcast; but really nothing else felt different. He still only passed his classes on genius alone, had a problem respecting authority figures (partially due to the fact that his parents were still pieces of shit), and never knew when to shut the fuck up.

Derry, Maine itself stayed the same too, like a town in a snow globe encased with mom-and-pop businesses and ignorance. Other than iPhones, the small Starbucks on the corner of Main and Belmont, and the fact that the townspeople were slightly less homophobic and racist (slightly being the operative word); Derry was pretty much a time capsule for banana bikes, bullies, and double features with popcorn that had too much salt and not enough butter.

Take the cliques and social hierarchy-- a staple in any American high school, especially one in a small town. Despite it being the 21st century, the cafeteria still had tables for jocks, geeks, nerds, and preps, straight from some 80’s or 90’s teen flick.

Richie, like most things in his life, didn’t necessarily fit into one group or the other, toeing the line between social pariah and popular party dude. He supposed it was the side effects of being the class clown with too-big-for-his-face glasses, a diagnosis for ADHD, and his tendency blazing at any given moment. Funny and wild enough to show up to any party, but not exactly cool enough to hang out with for anything else.

Honestly, it didn’t matter either way, because instead of worrying about what table to eat the cafeteria’s barely edible food at, Richie usually spent his lunch smoking with his friends. It was time to catch up and unwind before the last few classes of the day— and there was no way he could get through chemistry without being high.

As soon as the shrill bell rang, Richie hopped out of his seat, grabbing his shit before placing his (probably failed) history quiz on the teacher’s desk on his way out into the halls.

He weaved through the couples sucking face and the worried AP students, his unruly black curls bouncing like a hyperactive halo around his head as he walked towards his locker.

“‘Sup Tozier!” someone called out to him, a familiar face at the weekend ragers, although he never learned his actual name.

Richie nodded, “Hey, what’s up Keg King?”

“Not much. Hey, you coming to see me defend my title this weekend?”

“Wouldn't miss it for the world,” Richie smiled lazily, patting the other boy on the back before strolling along.

It wasn’t a coincidence that his smile faltered as he passed what was left of the Bower’s gang. He and Hockstetter had graduated the year prior, although like most bumfuck racists hellbent on beating up ‘dorks and queers’, they stayed in Derry. The remaining two, Belch and Victor Criss, weren’t nearly as powerful or psychotic as their elders, but they had a reputation to uphold. They weren’t exactly slamming him down on the asphalt in front of the arcade like they did in middle school, but they weren’t friendly either. Mutual respect was even a stretch. He’d enjoy seeing them get their asses handed to them, and he was sure they felt the same.

Richie popped open his locker, catching the loose papers and pencils that inevitably fell out. A small mirror hung on the blue metal door, rendered practically useless because of all the smudges covering it. The remaining space was littered with stickers of indie bands, and post-its with doodles and notes to himself or from his friends.

Have a great day trashmouth <3- bevs

Sparknotes ‘Pygmalion’

Come to the quarry after school!-mike

It’s a good day to be gay

Next time u get drunk enough 2 facetime us reading the entire bee movie script pls invite us so we dont have 2 deal w/ that sober- b+m

Buy more cigs and weed

U lewk hott big sexxxi ;) - xoxo

Richie was unashamed to say he wrote the last one to himself one day when he looked particularly good.

He struggled to stuff his history folder into the looming mess, but eventually crammed it in there, slamming the door shut before anything else could fall out.

After checking that he did indeed have his lighter, bag of weed, and papers in his denim jacket, Richie made his way to their usual spot. They liked to smoke at the stairs behind the art room, which was tucked away in the back of the school, overlooking the field that separated them and the middle schoolers.

Throwing open the orange door to the stairs in his usual dramatic fashion, he found his two closest friends, “Ms. Marsh, Lord Michael, how fare thee chaps today?” Richie greeted in his (awful) british accent.

Beverly Marsh rolled her eyes as she lit her joint, “Fine, until I heard that horrible voice.”

Richie threw a hand on his chest, a pained expression painted on his face, “Oh, how you hurt me so.”

“Hey, I mean it is his best impression,” Mike Hanlon commented from the steps, fist bumping Richie as he sat down across from Beverly on the top of the stairs, back to the railing. The sweet boy lit up the bowl in his pipe, inhaling deeply.

“Aw, thank you Mikey, you sure know how to make a girl swoon,” he cooed, mimicking a southern belle.

“Well, you don’t really have any good one’s in the first place,” Mike smirked, blowing out the smoke in his mouth while Beverly snorted, taking another drag.

Richie rolled his eyes, taking out his bag of weed, “Fuck off Hanlon.”

Mike extended an olive branch in the form of paper lunch bag filled with a sandwich, chips, and a can of coke. It was a daily occurrence for them— the Tozier’s rarely had any food, and even if Richie wanted to eat from the cafeteria, he didn’t exactly get a lot of money from them.

“My upcoming munchies thank you dear friend.”

He opened his bag of weed, attempting to balance the paper on his knees so he could roll his own joint. This failed miserably as the weed fell out, getting all over his Radiohead t-shirt.

“Shit.”

Beverly sighed, holding out her hand, “Let me roll it Tozier, you and I both know I’m better at it anyways.”

“What?! I’m perfectly capable of doing it by myself. I roll a damn good joint Marsh,” he shot back incredulously.

She plucked a stray piece of weed and gave him a pointed look. Richie groaned before handing his stuff over, Beverly handing him her own joint to smoke on in the meantime.

“How’s your day been Rich?” Mike asked from his spot on the steps. Typical farm boy, concerned with his friends. Richie often wondered how such an angelic person hung out with him and Bev, but Mike had his fair share of rebellious traits.

“Ah, well, you can tell it’s been just dandy. I can’t wait till we get out of this fucking hell hole,” Richie scoffed before taking a hit.

“Only seven more weeks,” Beverly reminded, eyes and hands focused on rolling.

Mike nodded, “Crazy. Can’t believe we’re finally graduating.”

“Thank fucking god, Derry is a suffocating shithole,” he said, “I know I’m an idiot, but Jesus, everyone here is a fucking bigot.”

“Yeah,” Mike agreed, not saying much else. They understood. It was hard being one of the only black kids in school, let alone pansexual (although most people didn’t know this about him). The prejudice he faced wasn’t something he often spoke about, trying to be as positive as possible.

“This kid in english was saying bisexuals are sluts today,” Richie successfully blew a few smoke rings, “Like, I am one, but not because of my sexuality, asswipe.”

Bev laughed humorlessly, handing Richie the freshly rolled joint and taking back her own, “No need to tell me what that’s like.”

No, the redhead had been getting called a slut over nothing since the seventh grade; the rumors and shaming only getting worse when she too came out as bi.

A comfortable and reflective silence fell over the three, occupied with their thoughts and getting high. Richie placed the joint in between his chapped lips; struggling to light the tip as his white lighter sputtered, on it’s last moments of life. Mumbled expletives fell out of his mouth before he was successful, inhaling deeply and holding the smoke in before letting it all escape.

His dark brown eyes scanned the poorly maintained sports field, filled mostly with middle schoolers running around and yelling. Part of him envied the carefree nature of it all, but the other remembered how fucking shitty middle school was and any jealousy washed away.

Not too far from them was what was dubbed as ‘the kissing tree’. The old trunk was littered with carvings, initials surrounded by hearts claiming that their love was ‘forever’. It was juvenile, small town as fuck, and heteronormative— though most things surrounding romance in Derry were.

Of course, Richie had been obsessed with it as a preteen, and knew his own name was on there (a few times).

What caught his eye now were the couple under it, making out passionately, flush against one another, like if they stopped they’d die.

Honestly, that would be preferable, as one of them was Gretta Keene, one of Richie’s biggest mistakes.

Gretta was one of the most popular girls in school, and she was also a grade A bitch. Her green eyes sent glares akin to daggers, and her lipgloss covered lips provided insults that went too far. Including frequently calling Beverly a slut.

It wasn’t like Richie had a huge crush on her or anything. Their relationship was merely born from constantly being at the same parties, cross faded and wanting a quick hook up to distract themselves. Mike had commented that it was only a matter of time, except one became many more, despite the fact that Gretta only got with jocks.

Their arrangement caused Bev to freeze Richie out for two months last semester, breaking their four year streak for best couples costume at Betty Ripsom’s annual Halloween Party. Bev was more important to him by a long shot, but per usual, he kept fucking everything up.

Most of their ‘moments’ were shared in some stranger's bed, or dancing in a kitschy living room to pop music, sharing a blunt or swigs from a bottle of whiskey. None of it was on purpose, but rather a byproduct of being intoxicated and having a high sex drive.

In fact, they had only been on two actual dates when they were together. The first was at the drive-in a town over, the pair sat in Richie’s beat up station wagon, some shitty b-movie playing on the large projector. Gretta shared a pack of cigarettes with him, and it was probably the only kind thing she had ever done. Richie tried to make conversation, so that their relationship actually had some sort of substance other than weed and alcohol; but Gretta quickly shut him up, sticking her cherry coke flavored tongue down his throat.

He took her out to his favorite diner for their other date, figuring that they might have a chance to actually get to know one another without an acceptable place to make out. They sat on opposite sides of a booth outlooking Main street, an old-timey song playing on the jukebox.

This plan proved to be a grave mistake, because Richie finally understood why Bev often said, “Satan himself thinks Gretta Keene is too cruel.”

He repressed the memory, if he remembered it he’d get too pissed off. Instead, Richie thought of their break-up, how she had beat him to the punch.

He had been waiting at her locker, leaning against #405 and picking at his nails, humming a song by The Smiths under his breath. Gretta approached, clad in a pink mini-skirt and a tight crop top, smacking her half-priced bubblegum.

Richie cleared his throat, standing upright, ready to chew her the fuck out for being such a horrible person, “Gretta, let’s talk—“

“We’re through Tozier.”

“What the fuck?!” He had gaped at her, “No, I was going to breakup with you!”

Gretta shooed him away with her manicured hands, “Please, you’re a fucking nobody. Irrelevant. You should be glad we even fucked around this long.”

A small crowd had formed around the two, “You’re the one who kept coming back for more.”

“And you’re the one who actually thought this could be something. So cute. But I don’t date losers and I don’t date attention-whores like you.”

Like he said, grade A bitch.

“Jealous?” Mike snapped Richie from his thoughts.

His cheeks reddened, embarrassed that he was caught staring, “What? No. I pity the poor bastard that’s with her. Fucking breath smells like a fucking dog ate a pack of Winston’s. Straight up ass.”

Beverly chuckled, but her eyes held a little bit of resentment, “You used to smoke those Winston’s with her.”

“I thought we had an agreement that we would never speak of the Great Gretta Keene Mistake again?”

“Sure, but you’re the one watching her,” Mike pointed out, packing a new bowl, “Missing the one that got away?”

The other boy’s tone was joking but Richie sent him a glare, “She’s fucking irrelevant to me okay?”

They hummed in agreement, but he could see the slight doubt on their faces.

Richie ripped open his bag of chips and threw one in his mouth, “She thinks she’s such hot fucking shit, but she’s so replaceable.”

“Richie, it’s rude to speak with your mouth full,” Mike admonished his bad manners.

“That’s not what your ol’ pops said last night when I was suck-“

“Beep beep, Richie,” Mike warned.

Bev shook her head, “Really Rich? His grandpa?”

“When opportunity strikes,” he flashed a shit eating grin before taking another hit.

“Anyways, while I second the sentiment that Gretta isn’t all that, you haven’t exactly had a relationship since her,” Bev accused.

“Okay, what the fuck is this, ‘pick on Richie day’?” he said, readjusting his position, “Besides, I’ve been with plenty of other people.”

“Please, this isn’t middle school, and I’m still not buying the whole ‘my bedpost is covered in notches’ bit,” Bev inspected the joint between her fingers, now just a stub.

“Well, obviously it’s not. I’ve had sex in many different beds. Yours included,” Richie smirked.

“Beep beep. You know you aren’t allowed over after you almost burned down my aunt’s apartment.”

“The apartment was fine. Everyone knows if you put the temperature up super high food cooks faster. Those tater-tots would’ve been delicious. Bon-appetit,” Richie spoke in a poor french accent, and his eyes widened, “Bon-appetot. Bon-appetatertot.”

He fell into a fit of giggles and Mike chuckled across from him.

“You are a walking disaster Richie Tozier,” Bev said, though an amused smile sat on her lips.

“Richie’s poor life choices aside… One night stands and drunken make out sessions don’t count,” Mike returned to their previous topic, “I mean something sort of serious. Something you put effort into.”

“I don’t put effort into anything Michael dear,” Richie countered.

“Not true. You put effort into a lot of dumb shit,” Bev put out her joint, “Like when you tried to climb the water tower at 3 am naked. Or the time you tried to get the principal to grind with you at homecoming.”

“You can’t blame me for that. Mrs. Marton is a vixen. Can’t believe she resisted my charms.”

Mike laughed, shaking his head, “Point is, it kinda seems like you’re stuck in a rut.”

“I get plenty of action,” Richie boasted, taking a drag from his joint, “Plus, I could make any girl or guy in this piece of shit school fall in love with me.”

“That a bet?” Bev grinned mischievously.

“You know what, why the fuck not?” Richie shrugged. He was bored, and he wanted his friends off his fucking back, “Terms and conditions?”

“Mike and I get to choose the sorry fuck who you’ll be pursuing—“

“No, I don’t wanna be a part of this. Isn’t it kinda fucked up? Getting with someone for a bet? Why don’t you just try to date someone without an ulterior motive?” Mike suggested.

Richie rolled his eyes, adopting an Australian accent, “Now where’s the fun in that mate?”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“You get till prom to sweep this person off their feet. A committed relationship, not just a hookup. If you win I’ll get you a shit ton of the finest weed the county can offer,” Bev continued, “If you lose—“

“No need to tell me, because I won’t fail,” Richie smirked, “I’m a total knockout.”

Bev’s face mirrored his own, “Fine, it’s your funeral.”

Both of them spit into their palms before shaking their hands, bonding the bet.

“C’mon, let’s go find them— you only have six weeks.”

The three of them packed up their shit, passing around the rest of Richie’s joint so it wouldn’t go to waste before they headed inside. Bev spritzed some perfume on them in an attempt to mask the smell of weed, making Richie smell fruity and floral. He popped a stick of spearmint gum in his mouth, deciding to save his sandwich for AP Calc next block.

It was a rare occurrence for them to roam the halls before the lunch bell rang, so a few of the students stared at them as they went on their search. Mike smiled at just about everyone they passed, a fucking angel per usual.

“What about him, he’s kinda cute,” Bev suggested, nodding her head to a blonde boy holding a skateboard.

Richie shook his head, “We made out at that beach bonfire over the summer. He almost vommed in my fucking mouth. The money maker! These beautiful lips are fuckin sacred— how could I smooch and tell amazing jokes if he fucked em up? These babies ooze charisma and sex appeal.”

“More like ooze bullshit,” Mike quipped.

“I think you’re just jealous that you won’t be the one I’m wooing Mike n Ike.”

Bev snorted, “I pity the poor fuck who you’ll be annoying till prom,” her eyes lit up, and she turned to Mike, “Hey, we might be able to enjoy some peace and quiet for a while!”

“The minute we became best friends with Richie I gave up all hope for tranquility.”

“Hey!” He protested, although Mike was right.

“And I wouldn’t have it any other way,” the other boy finished sweetly.

Richie planted a sloppy kiss on his cheek, “Oh Mikey, you are the most wholesome-est boy I ever did meet,” he slipped into his southern belle persona, “What about you Bevvy darlin’, got any words to butter up my biscuit? To milk my udder?”

She rolled her eyes and continued walking ahead of them, turning into another hallway.

“Fine, I know you love me Marsh,” Richie used his long lanky legs to his advantage, catching up to stroll alongside her quickly, “What about Betty Ripsom?”

Bev scoffed, “Please, too easy.”

“What?! She’s like, a good ol’ Christian girl. I’m a deviant! My skype username used to be tozier666! Or wait, it was tozier42069… I can’t remember.”

“C’mon Richie, we all know she had a massive crush on you freshman year,” Bev replied.

Mike nodded in agreement, “You wouldn’t shut up about it.”

“Like most things,” Bev said, “Anyways, you’d just use that to your advantage. Although, I am liking the whole ‘polar opposite’ approach.”

Richie groaned, of course he had a hand in his own misfortune.

They continued to travel the halls, Beverly’s baby blue eyes scouring for a victim.

“You sure are digging your own grave today Rich,” Mike commented.

Richie nodded, “R.I.P. Richard Tozier. Big Mouth and even Bigger Wan—“

“Found ‘em,” Bev interrupted, a grin on her face.

She pointed down the hallway in front of them, where two boys conversated as everyone walked around them. The taller one had auburn hair, and was lanky like Richie, although the other boy seemed a little more muscular. The other looked like a fucking middle schooler, and Richie wasn’t sure how the little brat even got in there.

It took a minute, but Richie realized that he did actually recognize them. They didn’t interact much, not being in the same circles, but the two boys had been going to school with him since the days of recess. And they had been bullied since then too.  

So, correction, she pointed to where two of the biggest losers in school were talking about what was presumably some nerdy shit. Great.

“What, Big Bill?” Richie raised an eyebrow, “He’s not too bad. Ignore the stutter and the fact that he’s best friends with total dorks and you have a shy lil cutie. Nice handiwork Marsh.”

“You know, you’re a total dork and we’re still friends with you,” Mike quipped, his own way of chastising Richie.

Bev shook her head ‘no’, “Not Denbrough, the other one.”

Richie’s eyes settled on the smaller boy, and the realization that he was totally and utterly fucked set in.

Eddie Kaspbrak. The kid peaked at 5’6, and his lack of muscles along with the fact that he wore an honest to fucking god fanny pack didn’t help his 12 year old boy appearance. Of course, the fanny pack got worse— it was full of pills, eye drops, hand sanitizer, lotion, chapstick, and most importantly, his inhaler. Yes, Eddie was a fucking asthmatic hypochondriac and germaphobe, with an equally insane mother. Richie didn’t doubt that the asshole spent more time perusing WebMD than texting or checking social media.

He wore chunky turtlenecks in the winter, and in the hotter months, his tanned legs adorned tube socks and short-shorts (they were awful, although Richie had to admit they made his ass look great). His small hands gripped onto his stuffed backpack (kid already had a fanny pack full of shit, what else did he have to bring to school?). Eddie’s brown hair was always found in a overly gelled comb over, not a hair out of place. He reminded Richie of an off-brand Fred Savage with severe anxiety.

Mostly, Richie knew Eddie Kaspbrak would hate just about every little thing he did. There was no way they’d even be friends, let alone anything more.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me Bev.”

a/n: thanks for reading!!! richie and eddie will actually talk next chapter, don't worry. also for any concerned about the gretta/richie thing it's not Too Big of a Deal as it is in the movie, i just need it for some plot points (but overall richie is like 100% over gretta and it was just something stupid he did).