#and my new friend i was watching was a lewis stan and as you know im a nando stan

[skitskatdacat63]

2023 Canadian Grand Prix - Fernando Alonso(ft. Max Verstappen, Lewis Hamilton, & Jenson Button)

[cartierre]

RUN DEVIL RUN | tw

SOCIAL MEDIA!AU toto wolff x fem!kpop idol!reader (fc: kim taeyeon)

side note: the title has literally nothing to do with this... but it is one of snsd's most cuntiest songs

♡ liked by 374,938 people

tagged: yourusername, voguekorea

f1wag Y/N Y/L/N on the cover of Vogue Korea! Wolff's girlfriend has a past in the K-Pop industry and will return to the music scene coming Feburary. She's been spotted a lot in South Korea with many of her old collegues and friends. Why do you think she's suddenly back into music after a 5 year break?

view all 4,580 comments

user1 how did i not know y/n is a literal kpop idol?

user2 watch me get into kpop because of my girlypop

user3 it's so funny that none of y'all cared enough to look up what y/n's been doing in the past

user4 kpop stans have been knowing about y/n being one of the biggest kpop idols forever ⤷ user5 fr like how are people surprised bffr girls generation is one of the most known groups?

♡ liked by lewishamilton, mercedesamgf1, mickschumacher and 937,394 others

yourusername 'INVU' 2022/02/14 6pm (KST)

view all 12,394 comments

user6 mother is coming back

user7 I AM SO OBSESSED WITH YOU

lewishamilton 🙌🏻🙌🏻

user8 i just know if toto had social media he'd go feral in the comments ⤷ user9 we stan a supportive boyfriend

mercedesamgf1 our new anthem 💙🤍

user10 tell a friend to tell a friend SHE'S BAAACK

♡ liked by choiminho_1209, georgerussell63, tiffanyyoungofficial and 827,938 others

yourusername had the most fun performing for you guys again! thank you so much for welcoming me back with such love 🫶🏻 한국, 사랑해요! (korea, i love you!)

view all 10,384 comments

user11 she was born to be a performer

user12 she has not been on a stage in 5 years and still knows how to perform as if there's no tomorrow. much respect to her!

user13 minho saw you all thirsting for him and came back to y/n's posts lmao ⤷ user14 they actually broke up on a good note. bet they're friends now

tiffanyyoungofficial much much love to you and your new song! i love seeing you back on stage again, right where you belong!! ⤷ yourusername aahh i love you so much tif 🩷

user15 y/n is such a sunshine i love her so much

♡ liked by georgerussell63, hyoyeon_x_x, mercedesamgf1 and 738,167 others

tagged: mercedesamgf1, lewishamilton, georgerussell63

yourusername it's finally race week again!! happy p3 & p4 boys

view all 6,483 comments

user16 she serves so much all the time

user17 love that she's feeding us some toto content because she knows we're starving ⤷ user18 i need her to convince toto to get instagram so bad

user19 the mercedes family is so sweet honestly... i just know everyone there loves y/n to pieces

georgerussell63 let's go up from there! comment liked by yourusername

user20 i need y/n to become my wife i cannot do this any longer

♡ liked by 515sunnyday, hyoyeon_x_x, tiffanyyoungofficial and 1,023,746 others

tagged: hyoyeon_x_x, yulyulk, 515sunnyday, sooyoungchoi, tiffanyyoungofficial, seojuhyun_s, yoona_lim

yourusername happy 15th anniversary to girl's generation! it's been nothing but fun with my girls and our fans 🫶🏻🩷 as a little present to you guys, we're happy to announce our return for a 7th album! #gg4eva #forever1

view all 11,284 comments

user21 first y/n did a whole solo album, her DEBUT album, and now you're telling me she's coming back with girl's generation??!!

user22 i just know toto has booked front row tickets for the whole mercedes team ⤷ mercedesamgf1 this does not sound like a bad idea...

user23 SO SLAY OMG

user24 the way i cannot fathom y/n has been in the music business for 15 whole years? miss ma'am looks so young i want to know her secret

lewishamilton thanks to you i'm really getting into kpop comment liked by yourusername ⤷ user25 GET IN THERE LEWIS

[mysteriesofmarcy]

Today in my GF rewatch I watched Roadside Attraction. And I thought, "Isn't it weird that I initially liked this episode and everyone else hated it? I wonder why."

So I decided to dissect that very topic.

Now, if you've been following me for a while, you might know that I'm not usually the biggest fan of the real plot heavy episodes. My favorite episodes are the ones with a good mix of plot and character development. I do typically tend to like the straight character development episodes the least, mostly because they tend to feel out of place. And the plot heavy episodes are somewhere in the middle for me.

So why, then, did I like Roadside Attraction so much? I mean, it's a straight character development (or character derailment) episode, and it's by far the most out of place episode in Gravity Falls, and maybe in TV history.

I'll admit there were parts I really didn't like. And they're the same as the parts everybody else didn't like: the cave scene with Candy, Dipper, and all the other girls showing up being at the top of that list, with the scene of Stan admitting that he knows nothing about women being close behind.

But then there were the good parts. This episode was carried by the first act. For Dipper, who is awkward around girls, just talking with a few that he meets on a road trip is a good strategy to get over a former crush. And it's not like he meant anything by it; he was just having pleasant conversations and making new friends, that's all. Nothing wrong with that. And the very end of the first act, with Candy revealing her crush on Dipper, was a great setup.

Act 2 started strong by setting up Candy wanting to sit with Dipper and him being uncomfortable about the whole thing. Now we know Gravity Falls can handle a situation like this because they did it before in The Hand That Rocks the Mabel, and differently in The Love God.

But then Stan gave some horrible advice that Dipper should just accept Candy's offer of a date just to... have a date, I guess? And then the other girls he met at the other tourist stops all showed up in one place? And then they all turned on him and assumed he was into one of them? I mean, Stan was right that Dipper should not have seen any of those girls again. At least, he should not have seen them all at once. And even if they did show up all at once, C.S. Lewis' words come to mind:

(Eros, if you didn't know, is a Latin term for the romantic type of love.)

But none of that really answers the question.

Why did I like this episode if it has such major flaws?

And the answer is two words: Happy Dipper. Happy Dipper is a rare sight to behold. Happy Dipper gives LIFE to any episode he's in. Happy Dipper takes charge of his own life and gets what he wants, not by making overcomplicated listy things or raising the dead or whatever, but by living in the moment. And as he said in the hot tub scene, he had "one of the best days ever!"

So when did Happy Dipper show his face?

In the man cave hot tub (OK, that was Destructor)

In the multibear's cave

After the party in Double Dipper (OK, this one was only written about in the journal)

Putting the bandage on Mabel's elbow on Summerween

Chatting with Wendy while leaving the pool

Having a sleepover with Mabel in their old room

Leaping into the Gideon-bot

Singing the chorus to T8king Over Midnight

Watching movies with Wendy

Encouraging Mabel on the mini golf course

Encouraging Soos in his dating life and on his birthday

The majority of Abaconings!

The Northwest Mansion after midnight

Playing with fireworks and water balloons the next morning

Playing DDAMD with Ford

And of course, the hot tub at Septic Ridge

Happy Dipper is Good Dipper. That is all.

[magical-oppas]

I was tagged by @481boxboxbaby thanks bestie <3

Who is your favorite driver?

Ohhh I can't really pick between Max or Carlos but if you put a gun to my head right at this moment my answer would probably be Carlos.

Do you have other favorite drivers?

Oh yes, I am very bad at "solo stanning" (that's a kpop term but you get what I mean)

My faves are Max, Carlos, Charles, Lando, Oscar and Yuki

Who is your least favorite driver?

Its just my personal preference to never answer this question because I just find it unnecessary to put it out into the world. Of course there are drivers I do not like and I do occasionally bitch about them, I just prefer to that privately to my friends :)

Do you pull for drivers or do you like teams as well?

Both, its just in the nature of the sport isn't it? You have a team but there is so much talent on the grid that I feel like one does oneself a disservice by limiting it to only the two drivers on the team one cheers for.

If you like teams what teams do you pull for?

Ferrari. I'm really basic.

How long have you been into F1?

I have been properly aware of it since 2022 but I didn't start following it, as in watching every race, before 2023.

What got you into F1?

I have always loved sports. I'm a big football fan (the real one, not the American one) and I absolutely ADORE figureskating so I was already primed to love it.

The story is basically that me and my fiancé, then boyfriend, really wanted to have something to root for together. We both love football but I'm a Barcelona fan and he is a Real Madrid fan, you see the issue. So he said

"Babe, I think you would love F1. Check out this Netflix show so you are up to speed and then we can watch it together. I wont tell you what team we like, you will see that there really is only one correct team and driver to root for."

So I did. I gathered all my snacks and prepared myself for a binge watch. I fell in love with the sport around halfway into the first episode. I finished it and happily went to report back to my love. This is the exact conversation we had

"So, you picked the correct team and driver right?"

"Ofc! You were right it was so obvious. How can one NOT like Max? He is fantastic!"

"...Babe"

"...Yeah?"

"I like Lewis Hamilton."

"Fuck."

"Fuck."

The end<3

Do you enjoy fic/rpf?

I don't mind it. As long as people are not weird about it, like actually believe that their ships are true or tell drivers about ao3, I don't see the issue.

How do you view new fans?

I mean, I'm new. Can I really have an opinion on this?

If I can have one then it is that you are born knowing nothing. You have been new to everything in life at some point. It is just part of our journey as humans. Stop being mean to people for not knowing things.

If you could take over as team principal for any team, who would it be and why?

HAAS. For shits and gigs you know.

Are your friends and family into F1?

Other than my fiancé I have two irl friends who really love it. My poor mother is forced to listen to my ramblings so she knows a lot but she finds the sport pointless.

And then obviously all of my online friends and my F1 mutuals on tumblr<3

Are you open to talking to other fans/making friends?

ALWAYS

There is not a single question, opinion or random thought someone has sent me here on tumblr that I haven't cherished. If you are hesitating about becoming my friend here is your sign. Send me the message. Send me the ask. I promise you, I will never EVER find it annoying. If you can't tell by the length of this post, I really love to yap, and I really love to yap about F1<3

Tagging @1337wtfomgbbq @norribobs @charlalos

And if this just happens to be on your dash, you are now tagged by me<3

Of course there is no pressure to do this

[pxlution]

tagged by the amazing @formulanni :DD

Who is your favorite driver?: it's Charlie, sue me. There's just something about this man that intrigues me too much, something so tragic, so poetic, etc. etc.

Do you have other favorite drivers?: Yuki and Lewis 100%!!!!! I generally like most drivers though if their vibes aren't too abysmal.

Who is your least favorite driver: this is not the best time to admit this mayhaps but since a season or so ago, I've begun to like Lando less and less? Something shifted in his vibes last year even though I used to like him idk 🤷‍♀️ I apologize ok!! I respect it if you stan him still. (the same applies to danny ric but to a lesser degree)

Do you pull for drivers or do you like teams as well? Hm, I think it's a bit of both but stanning Charles is soo interconnected to stanning Ferrari imo, as for Lewis and Yuki I think that's more because it's them (tho VCARB is my fav mid table team still)

If you like teams what teams do you pull for?: forza ferrari babyyy (and again there's some VCARB love there, and yes, i am a masochist)

How long have you been into F1?: I'm a fairly new fan! I think it's been around 2-3 years no since I started watching? I wasn't super into it at first (a friend basically forced me to start watching lmao) but after a good couple of months, I was obsessed

What got you into F1?: one of my best friends watched dts, became obsessed, forced me to watch races with him and just yapped about f1, then forced me to watch dts, after which i also became obsessed

Do you enjoy fic/rpf?: yeahh,, i actually,,, kinda write it too,,, but noone is supposed to know this haha

How do you view new fans: i'm one of them so hey hahah i hope the older fans don't hate us too much

If you could take over as team principal for any team, who would it be and why?: red bull so i can ruin them and give everyone else a chance /j if i'm being a little more serious it's probably one of the mid table teams like VCARB or Alpine bc i am delusional and i am convinced that i can somehow make them win something

Are your friends and family into F1?: aside from friends i've found through f1, not really? my family isn't really into sports, maybe they'll watch football at most and i have one (1) friend who's properly into f1 (the same one who got me into it) and he gives me all the memes and updates basically

Are you open to talking to other fans/making friends?: YES!! PLEASE I HAVE NO IDEA HOW TO MAKE FRIENDS ESP ON TUMBLR SO JUST YAP AT ME PLEASE I BEG!!!!!! I'm not as active here but I am fairly active on insta so you can yap at me there too!!

I don't really know who to tag ngl (see previous answer) but feel free to do this if you see it! maybe we will find similarities :D

[caitkaminski]

Hi there! I hope you're having a great day :)

I just wanted to know your thoughts and opinions on Lewies public speech to mc? It looked a bit disingenuous to me and a bit like he was saying the things he did for show and not because he meant it. But that could just be me and my trust issues ☠️

As a Lewie girl I will stay by his side until he gives me an actual reason to switch or dump, but so far he's been real sweet, caring etc. I'm honestly just a bit worried because I can't lie, after the whole Chloe situation (ie him putting in effort into their date, wearing a new aftershave for their date, him being on the verge of saying something flirty to Chloe but correcting himself when he sees mc is watching and then after their date saying those things even if it was to hype up the scenario to the boys and telling them what they wanted to hear) I find myself questioning him and his loyalty 😭

Lewie has always made me feel secure and like he is a loyal guy but that whole thing rattled me and now I genuinely am scared of going back and him being with another girl 🥲 and I'm also pretty upset he didn't leave with us but that's just me😩

Sorry for the long post btw lol I just know as a collective, us Lewie lovers are screaming crying and throwing up at the moment 🤣

Hi! Hope you’re having a fab day too!

All in favour of a Lewie lover support group raise your hands 🙋‍♀️

No but the speech

By FAR the least cringey public declaration thing the lis did. In case you don’t know them:

- Ryan sang a song he wrote

- Roberto did a terrible dance

- Jamal wrote his name in flower petals or something?

Yeah so we got off lucky with a speech. I actually think it was genuine and pretty cute! 😂

He’s said quite a few times he’s not good with words. I HC he’s got a lot of thoughts and overthinks stuff but doesn’t say a lot, or anything well anyway lmao

again, it’s another thing Farmer Will did on this years winter love island, he did a speech for his girl. So I like to think that was kinda the inspo and he’s not actually just saying everything we wanna hear. He knows he’s fighting off guys for mc at the minute so he wants to go the extra mile.

I’m a delulu loyal Lewie stan but yeah, some stuffs got me questioning and I think that’ll come out on movie night.

One scene in particular that I found super sus was that scene where we’re on a date with Roberto and Ivy says Lewie was flirting with her while mc was gone AND HE DOESNT DENY IT, he just acts dumb

THEN he goes off for a lil walk with her, mc snoops and again he spots us just before a kiss might happen.

I mean, that was early days but I still don’t like it. Ivy says all he could talk about was us on the date but still.

I love him but I’m getting sick of all the lis being written the same way. Some stuff just doesn’t fit with certain characters. Lewie not leaving with us right after his speech and asking to be an unofficial couple and calling us HIS BEST FRIEND does not sit right with me.

[lovelyfanatical]

I Get a Sugar Rush Whenever I’m With You - Chapter 4.2

Good evening fellow Drukkari stans, or whatever time it is for you! I come bearing the next installment! If you missed the last one, you can find it here, or start over from the beginning here. Sidenote: Should I make a post with all the mini-chapters? I don't know if that's helpful, but let me know. Anyway, 'without further ado, here's '70s week continues! What new surprises await our competitors? Find out now in the next installment of Drukkari in the Great British Bake Off, with special guest star, Darcy Lewis!

Despite his best efforts, Druig hadn’t gotten much better at technicals. It certainly didn’t help that this week, the challenge involved making ice cream, something he hadn’t had a chance to do prior to the competition. While the process itself wasn’t too difficult, the judges had declared his peppermint ice cream too minty. Even at his worst, Druig usually nailed flavors. He may not have been in last place, but the entire challenge had been quite stressful, and the feedback had hit him right where it hurt. Needless to say, he was in no mood to be interviewed, another skill he hadn’t improved much over the last few weeks. But the show must go on, proverbially and literally, and as always, he found himself standing in front of a large camera crew about to talk about his most recent failure.

To say that it wasn’t going so well would be the understatement of the year. Druig was often terse, but today, it was all he could do to resist the urge to just glare directly into the camera. It wasn’t long before Darcy hesitantly uttered, “Why don’t we take a two-minute pause?”

“Right, sure,” he replied, trying and failing to not sound annoyed. At this, she sped off somewhere while he turned to look at the scenery. He tried to get his brooding out before the camera started rolling again. Two minutes went by in an instant, and Druig braced himself as he turned back around. Much to his surprise, Darcy was returning with Makkari and Kingo in tow. At his questioning expression, she quickly signed, I don’t know what’s happening either, before they came to a stop in front of him.

“Okay, we’re going to try something different, so just go with me here,” Darcy began. “Instead of me interviewing you, Makkari’s going to stand behind the camera and ask the questions, and you’ll answer her like you’re just having a regular conversation between friends.”

“Should I sign my answers?” he asked.

“Well, for continuity’s sake, I’d say no. But if it makes you feel more comfortable, go for it.”

After a brief conversation with Makkari and Kingo, the cameras were rolling once again. They started over from the beginning, with Makkari asking the questions and Druig speaking and signing his answers. Darcy and Kingo hung back, watching the monitor. Interviews had been a painfully awkward process for Druig, turning minutes into what felt like ages. But with Makkari, the minutes flew by. Before he knew it, they were out of talking points, and Darcy was calling out, “I think we got it! Thanks!”

As they walked away, Druig bumped Makkari’s shoulder in a silent “thanks.” She returned the gesture, and even before turning his head to look at her, Druig knew she was smiling. Of course, the moment was interrupted by Kingo, who had been trailing after them but jogged in front of Makkari to say, “You know, I suggested having you interview him as a joke. I didn’t think they’d actually do it!”

Wow, exploiting our friendship to get in with the higher-ups? Makkari said, her smile turning into a mocking smirk.

“I just said it was a joke!” he responded. But after a moment, he continued, “Do you think Darcy will promote me if I keep giving her ideas?”

“Don’t you have a marketing job to get back to?” Druig interjected.

“Yeah, but—”

I thought you were an aspiring actor, Makkari cut in.

“I’ll have you know I was a featured extra in an episode of Doctor Who, so I’m not aspiring to be an actor; I am an actor! And second, I won’t need a day job if I get a big break here!” The teasing this statement prompted lasted all the way back to the shuttle.

-

Their unusual interview had not gone unnoticed by the others. At dinner, they demanded an explanation, and with the sign competition still going as well, Druig let Makkari tell the story. She did so with plenty of enthusiasm, though he filled in when all three of their friends started to look confused.

So Kingo and I follow Darcy over to where the cameras are set up, and Druig’s standing there moping—

While it may have been true, he had to object to this description. “I was not moping. That’s how I always look.”

You were definitely moping, which is why Darcy turned around and said that I would be the one interviewing Druig, she explained to the group.

“Wow, they’re really putting you and Kingo to work,” Dane responded, signing clumsily where he could.

“Yeah, I feel like you should be getting paid for that,” Sersi added with a grin.

“So why were you moping, Druig? You didn’t do that bad,” Ajak asked.

“No reason, really,” he replied with a shrug. When the others stayed silent and Makkari watched him carefully, he sighed and continued. “I’m just usually good with my flavors, but today, they said my ice cream tasted like bland toothpaste.”

“That was pretty harsh,” Dane conceded.

“I wouldn’t worry about it too much. They loved your mango upside down cake this morning,” Ajak said.

“Thanks, but that would mean more coming from someone who didn’t win the technical,” Druig responded cheekily, causing her to roll her eyes and wave him off in mock exasperation.

“I’m with Ajak. You shouldn’t beat yourself up about it. Mint is always tricky to balance,” Sersi interjected.

“Thank you, Sersi.”

“Speaking of winners, did you pick one for the other competition? I’m assuming it’s not me,” Dane asked.

Oh yes, a winner was chosen hours ago, Makkari replied with a smirk.

“Well, who is it?” Ajak demanded.

“After much deliberation, the winner is… Karun!” Druig joked, which elicited groans from Ajak and Sersi and giggles from Makkari. Once she had gathered herself again, Makkari announced, The winner is Sersi!

Sersi seemed genuinely surprised, even as Dane and Druig offered their congratulations. Ajak, however, was not readily accepting of this outcome.

“I demand a redo! Do I not know more signs than Sersi?” she asked.

“Yeah, I’m confused,” Sersi agreed.

The rules were whoever learns the most sign language in a week wins. Ajak may know more, but she had a head start. Sersi has come much further in a week, Makkari explained. Besides, Ajak’s definitely going to get Star Baker this week, so she doesn’t need the win.

While it still took some convincing, Ajak eventually conceded victory to Sersi.

-

Congrats to Sersi! 🎉🎉🎉Hm, our group is getting a bit small, though, isn't it? Hope you enjoyed this chapter!

Part 13

[letteredlettered]

Hey! I absolutely love all of your Marvel fics. Have you watched or do you plan on watching The Falcon and the Winter Soldier or any of the other new Marvel shows? Do you have any thoughts on them?

Thank you! It's so nice to have an ask about these, my favorite fics!!!

I have watched WandaVision and The Falcon and the Winter Soldier. I have started Loki, but I'm waiting for my friend to come back so we can finish the rest.

WandaVision: Loved the premise. Felt they moved into explaining the premise too simplistically and easily. I enjoy dense shows; I don't mind having to guess a bit, and I felt a little talked-down-to by how simplistic this one got. Loved the Pietro retcon, as I loved Quicksilver in the X-Men movies approximately 10,000 times better than Quicksilver in AoU. Feel like they're opening up a multiverse, which I enjoy, though I do NOT want X-Men in MCU. I have always loved X-Men as a self-contained universe, AKA the 90s cartoon, and they really make no sense combined with everyone else. Loved Agatha until It Was Agatha All Along, and then the whole show turned into this very campy silly thing. Feel like they're opening up the idea of magic, which I hate. The entire MCU up to this point is premised around science; that's what my fics were about; that's what I enjoyed; this kind of magic is silly. Always love Darcy Lewis, always love James Woo in anything he's in. Sad about Monica's mother, do not know Rambeau from comics, but interested in the arc. Loved the Lewis/Woo/Rambeau team up. A bit disappointed in character growth for Vision, who's always been pretty boring even though I do love Vision in Earth's Mightiest Heroes and also love Paul Bettany. Pretty happy with character growth for Wanda, even though I still think magic is stupid.

Falcon and Winter Soldier: What a confused show. What a show struggling with wanting to say attractively progressive things about race and imperialism and fascism and terrorism and capitalism while also being a show made by Disney, the most capitalist and imperialist of them all. Like if this show could have been made by an independent, maybe it could have actually said something about the concepts it tries to tackle. Instead it leaves a gross taste in my mouth. I'm talking specifically about the Flag Smashers. They did handle black Captain America with more care and nuance than I expected; I am glad they had at least one black voice saying that a black Captain America is a betrayal, and at least one other black voice saying that not having black Captain America is also a betrayal. They could have done more but I was still happy they did it. Also was super happy about Sam's speech to the Senator at the end, even though it felt a little too little too late (for the show, not Sam).

Speaking of too little too late, Sam had this one very good conversation with Bucky while they're throwing shields at trees about trauma and grief. Wasn't Sam a guidance counselor for vets? Why weren't similar conversations the whole arc for Sam/Bucky, rather than this cooked up animosity that seems to be purely for laughs. Sam and Bucky have a LOT of chemistry when they're dealing with their pasts together and building boats (that was my favorite scene), but I didn't buy their stupid bickering at all.

Part of it is I just never got the arc I wanted for Bucky. Civil War was such a mess. The third Captain America movie should have been a Captain America movie rather than that disaster. Then we could have had a real and solid arc for Bucky, in which we really understand his trajectory toward recovery. This was the only piece of media since The Winter Soldier that treated his trauma as real, but, like, he's already grown so much by then that it just made me feel the arc was uneven. I do feel bad because I just don't think Sebastian Stan is that good of an actor. He is very very good at being sad and gay (cf Political Animals, Kings, The Winter Soldier), but he is not super at comedic timing. It kinda falls flat against Anthony Mackie's superb timing. Idk.

[sammysreelreviews]

8 New And Returning Shows And Movies Coming At The End Of Summer 2020

1. Trinkets (Season 2)

I feel like this show went completely under the radar but I feel like it’s one of the better teen shows Netflix has to offer! I won’t give away the first season but it’s about three girls (Briana Hildebrand, Kiana Madeira, and Quintessa Swindell) who meet in a Shoplifters Anonymous meeting. The three of them become friends and honestly we just gotta stan gurl power!

Premiers August 25th on Netflix

2. Million Dollar Beach House

So Netflix just announced this Selling Sunset esque show that’s based in the Hamptons. If you like luxury homes and the pointless drama of white people this may be the show for you.

Premiers August 26th on Netflix

3. Aggretsuko (Season 3)

Everyone’s favorite red panda is back for a third season and from the trailer I’m wondering if she’ll ever quit that damn job and start rocking that stage!!! I’m so excited for this show I hope this season is like 100 episodes long.

Premiers August 27th on Netflix

4. The Babysitter: Killer Queen

If you know me you know I LOVE LOVE LOVE The Babysitter so the fact that we’re getting a sequel is so AMAZING. Is there anything better than a horror comedy? If you haven’t seen the first movie I highly suggest you watch it. In The Babysitter Cole (Judah Lewis) decides to stay up one night to see what his babysitter does when he’s asleep but he didn’t think she’d be doing a satanic ritual with her friends to make their dreams come true. I’m telling you it’s one of my favorite Netflix original movies and the cast is awesome.

Premiers September 10th on Netflix

5. We Are Who We Are

The plot for this show has pretty much been a secret other than saying it’s a coming of age story of two teens living on an American military base in Italy. The show is directed by Luca Guadagnino (Call Me By Your Name, Suspiria) and stars Jordan Kristine Seamon, Jack Dylan Grazer, Spencer Moore II, Corey Knight, Kid Cudi, Francesca Scorsese and Chloe Sevigny.

Premiers September 14th on HBO

6. The Devil All The Time

Also not too clear on the plot here but all I know is that Tom Holland’s character has beef with Robert Pattinson’s character. It’s also based on a book of the same name. This very intense film stars not only those two fave brits but also, Sebastian Stan, Bill Skarsgård, Riley Keough, Hailey Bennett, Mia Wasikowska, and Jason Clarke,

Premiers September 16th on Netflix

7. Bobs Burger’s (Season 11)

I usually don’t put a show that’s been running this long on lists like these but I had to say that we have not gotten a solid Bob’s Burgers season since season 7 and I really need this season to make me laugh. The last few seasons haven’t really been memorable!

Premiers September 27th on FOX

8. Baby (Season 3)

Netflix’s Italian original show about two girls who become prostitutes is sadly coming to an end. I’m very scared for what’s going to happen because the stills of season 3 on Instagram look like the girls might be in a bit of hot water.

Premiers September 16th on Netflix

[djarinvettel]

fun fact i’ve fallen in love with f1 over the past year. it began with my friend non stop talking about it for a few weeks and me just listening to her because no one else really would and ya know she always listened to my rants about marvel and star wars so why shouldn’t i listen to her interests duh. so anyway she is a fan of lando’s and lewis’ mainly and she kept going on about them and growing up in the uk i obviously knew who lewis is ever since i was young because he’d always be on the news even though i didn’t care about f1 you’d hear his name. lando i didn’t know but everything she told me about him i got to understand what type of guy he seems to be whatever so one week i’m like ok for the sake of understand what the fuck she’s going on about each week i’ll actually keep up with the race that week whatever and it was kinda interesting however i had this thing in my head that lando and lewis was hers and i wanted someone to support and the only other name i knew was sebastian’s. i heard it all the time when i was younger, vettel, vettel, vettel, because he won 4 times in a row when i was like 10 so obviously i’d know his name. so i thought why not? i’m a fan of sebastian stan’s i’ll keep the sebastian thing going idrk why, i just did and because he was the only other one i recognised. now remember this was 2020! maybe not the best year for seb however he is the reason i’ve gotten so into the sport over the past year. yes because of the racing which is more interesting than i though actually but because of him. i wanted to know as much as i could about the sport and by extension him so i watched his past races, his best races, his mistakes blah blah blah but i fully supported this guy because of who he was not because of his racing because again 2020 not the best (ferrari we be judging👀) but idk i just like him and i have never tweeted anything saying i support seb so it’s not like i’m making my voice knowing for loving him i just do it from the comfort of my damn bed every sunday whatever but i choose to support him because he needs it now because what i’ve learnt it sebastian vettel has TALENT. i’m sorry but even someone like me who hasn’t even been a fan of the sport for a year knows no four time world champion looses his talent like that he’s just had bad luck with ferrari and he’s new to AM. he needs to get used to the car which is expected. he’s had shit luck these past two races like come on this week was not his fault at all! they didn’t get his car ready you don’t expect him to do it so you? even though i’m sure he could. and the gearbox again not his fault! he’s just had shit luck and hopefully he’ll have better luck next race but what i’ve heard are ppl not supporting him anymore because he’s not winning? SORRY WHAT? if you are a fan of anything in sport you don’t support someone or a team just because they’re winning that’s kinda stupid. i joined this, idk is it a fandom? fuck knows but i decided to support sebastian vettel when he might not be at his best. not because i want him to win just because he did ten years ago! i chose to support him because of who he is, or what i’ve seen of him. the guy i’ve seen online and what i’ve learned of him that’s why i support him. because he needs it! i cant imagine the shit he’s going through and he still smiles and makes jokes and even though i don’t yell it at the skies i support him i do and i’m proud to say that but who stops supporting someone just because they aren’t winning? am i missing something? there really was no point to that at all but hey. anyway imma shut up because that’s a long ass rant

[wrctings]

Dick Winters x reader | The best way to recover

for all of my fellow soft dick winters stans 🧡

“Is being mess officer that horrible?” Nixon asked lightly, trying to get a smile out of his friend as he made his way through the kitchen, avoiding army cooks to join Winters.

As usual, the clinking melody of cutlery knocking together was reverberating through the room, bouncing off the walls and mingling with the voices of the men whom avidly scraped their ration of food off their plates, which had somehow led the atmosphere of dinnertime to become congenial over months. After the long hours of draining, at first even almost unbearable preparation that they endured daily, the soldiers of the 506th had started to form a bond that not only got them through the toughest of training sessions, but also manifested whenever they were bestowed a bit of free time. In between running to exhaustion, teasing and munching on flavourless beans together, camaraderie was growing day after day among Easy Company.

“I’d rather not be here right now,” Dick replied shortly, only giving the brunet officer a brief glance before his eyes drifted back toward the window pane. As a Lieutenant, the redhead was accustomed to watching over his men with care, even moved as he witness their efforts bear fruit and theirs friendships grow tighter, but on that evening his thoughts and attention were directed toward something else — someone else, rather. As the pouring rain drummed outside, accounting for the definite arrival of Autumn’s brisk weather and carpets of brown leaves, what Dick would have otherwise considered appeasing had now become the cause of his worry, distracting his diligence from the task that Sobel had given him when he designated him mess officer. 

“Dick, what’s happening?” Lewis frowned, sensing that the other man’s tone smacked of particular concern — he could tell that something was off by the hardened look on Winters’s face, the officer pacing up and down without truly acknowledging what was happening all around. 

“Sobel made Y/n run Currahee right before dinner. Guarnere and Toye went with them, but they’re not back yet.” 

“Shit, it’s pouring out there,” Nixon cursed under his breath, shaking his head at the news. He now understood his friend’s state of mind much better, knowing how much you meant to him. “How long?”

“Twenty minutes. They should be back soon,” Winters’s gaze was shifting from the window to the door, the man intensely hoping that you and your two companions in misfortune would finally show up at last. 

“They’ll be okay,” Nixon put a hand over Dick’s shoulder, giving him a few comforting pats. “They’ve run that mountain dozens of times.” 

“I know, Nix, but have you seen the weather? We don’t need soldiers falling ill now,” Winters added roughly, in sharp contrast with the composure of his usual behaviour. 

“Dick, Y/n is a good soldier,” Nixon spoke in a quieter voice, understanding that Dick was most of all worried about your well-being. “And they’re with Guarnere and Toye, the three of them can help each other out.” 

“Yeah.” The redhead eventually nodded, turning around to get a glimpse at the other officer. “Why did he made them run the forsaken mountain now...,” he muttered, jaw clenching as his eyes narrowed. 

Lewis’s lips parted, the man about to agree on the deplorable nature of Sobel’s methods, but before he had time to lash out at their Commending Officer the door finally swung open and ricocheted off the wall, revealing three panting figures. Soaked to the bone, Bill, Joe and you stepped inside, getting your helmets off as you took in the warmth of the room, shivering in your drenched gear. 

Soldiers cheered as you walked up to the kitchen, giving you pats on the back and congratulating you for getting through the task, to which Joe was bitterly swearing that he would “always hate that son of b*tch” and Bill grunted by your side, sharing your exhaustion. You couldn’t have been more grateful for your friends’ presence, Guarnere and Toye following you in solidarity after Sobel had commanded that you run Currahee, but you didn’t feel like you had enough remaining strength to join Toye in his breathless attacks against your CO. All you could strive for at that moment were a hot meal and a place to collapse in, your legs threatening to cave in with every additional step — while braving the downpour your equipment had felt heavier than ever, painfully weighing down on you for miles. 

When he saw you come in Dick’s first instinct was to rush up to you, attempting to help out best he could, but the interdiction to surrender his post in the kitchen left the ginger-haired man no choice but to helplessly watch you get a plate of beans and bread, then taking a seat alongside Toye and Guarnere with your uniform wet and hair sticking to your skin as you took a hasty mouthful of food. You hardly payed attention to anything around you, trying to stop yourself from shaking while filling your empty stomach with the lukewarm beans that you had been served, feeling Bill also quiver beside you.

The time to depart came after you had just finished eating, the company being ordered out of the canteen. Rushing out as fast as possible to find shelter without getting sodden in the rain, the men rapidly emptied the room, leaving no one but Dick, Nixon and the cooks behind; the First Lieutenant still having to face their CO before he was free to go, Lewis disappeared just in time for Lt. Sobel to march up to Winters, requiring his daily report. In the meantime, you headed back to the barracks, eager to get a change of clothes and finally be able to have a break — after this evening, you couldn’t wait to tumble upon your bed, your sore muscles sending you clear signals that they demanded to rest. 

However, an unexpected visit awaited you a short while later. As you were carried forward amidst the flood of soldiers — everybody willing to take refuge from the icy droplets of rain piercing their skin with coldness —, you caught a glimpse of a figure coming toward you from the side, making way among the company. Soon enough, the blurred lines turned into a familiar shape, then becoming clearer as the man got closer to you, and in a few seconds Lt. Winters stood at the side of the crowd you were part of. His dark green iris fixed upon you, he made a small movement of the head when you met his gaze, as though asking if you could join him. After quickly looking around to be certain that your retreat wouldn’t be noticed, you slowed down, letting men overtake you, and stepped to the side until you found yourself close enough to Dick.

You strode away from the barracks without a word, but you rapidly recognised the direction you were taking — it wasn’t long until you reached the officers’ lodgings, the building’s outline illuminated by a beam of light flickering through the windows. Opening the door, Dick let you in first before closing it behind the two of you, making sure that no one had seen you leave together; Nixon and Harry were visibly missing as well, probably enjoying a game of cards in the headquarters.

The redhead immediately went to his footlocker afterwards, not even bothering to take his side cap off as he rummaged through the piece of furniture, and only spoke after he handed you the blanket which he had retrieved. You took it gratefully, teeth still chattering in spite of the warmer temperature of the room.

“How are you? I learnt that Sobel sent you off after you had already left...” he let you know apologetically, helping you unbutton your wet uniform.

“Cold,” you gave him an honest answer, resting the blanket on the bed nearby while starting to get your soaked clothes off. “But Bill and Joe made it a lot easier.”

“Still, ordering you to run Currahee by yourself in that weather..” Dick harsh voice however broke off as he was about to enlarge upon his disapproval of Sobel, deciding at the last moment that it wasn’t worth it — he would much rather focus on you.

Kneeling, he unlaced your boots, your own fingers being too numb to get a firm grip on the shoelaces, and went back to his footlocker while you took off the shirt that you were wearing under your uniform; it hadn’t been spared from the rain, unpleasantly clinging onto your body and sending chills down your skin. Dick then handed you the sweater, trousers and socks that he had taken out while politely looking away — which you always found irresistibly sweet since you were in relationship and had been intimate before —, leaving you all the needed time to change into dry clothes. Only when you were done did he finally came close to you again, the worry that had been painted over his face slightly alleviated now that you were safely shut away from the rain and cold.

“Is it better now?” Winters inquired caringly, his heart swelling as he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sight of you in his clothes, fitting too big for your smaller frame. It was as though he had given you a real part of him, aside from the discreet kisses and affectionate words that you had to find a way to exchange throughout the day.

Dick greatly admired your strength — the way you held your head up, kept your spirits firmly focused even though your first months in the army had been rough since you had to constantly prove your worth to the men —, but the intimacy that had developed between the two of you allowed him to see another side of you, just like you could access another side of him. With you, he was not afraid to be himself — he was not afraid to care, because you cared too, and understood. And you were not afraid to let your guard down — to let him help you, just like you also helped him.

“It’s so much better. Thank you, Dick.” You gave the redhead a touched smiled, deeply grateful for the trouble he put himself into just to make you feel better. “Hey, you haven’t even taken the time to take care of yourself,” you then added in soft indignation, it being your turn to look after him. You reached for his side cap, cautious not to wrinkle it, and folded it neatly while Dick took off his jacket.

The Lieutenant ran a hand through his hair, quickly fixing it, and gave you a smile that revealed the creases happiness shaped around his eyes. Although you ought not to be seen inside the officiers’ barracks, such an intrusion being formally forbidden, for once Dick couldn’t have payed less attention to the rules — if risk was the price to pay for spending time with you, he would assume it.

“You must be tired, I’m sorry if I’m cutting your hours of sleep shorter,” Winters still apologised, getting up to hang your wet uniform so it dries out overnight. “I didn’t want to let you go like that.” He sat back down, taking your cold hands into his, warming them up. “I’ve missed you.”

“Me too, Dick,” you squeezed his fingers, a strong, fuzzy feeling coating the inside your chest while you were peering into the man’s eyes, their pale greenness reminding you of everything safe and loving. At the end of the day, after bullets had miraculously flown by and spared your life, Winters was always whom you came back to — though so far away from home, you had found something in him that couldn’t be immured between four walls. 

“Come here,” the redhead added, gently inviting you into his embrace as he opened his arms, and you ensconced yourself right up against him, pecking his lips tenderly before you rested your head against his chest. In spite of the barrier of cloth that the Lieutenant’s uniform represented, you could hear the beating of Dick’s heart, each of its pulsions holding onto the frail life that you all tried to preserve from the brutal grasp of death. You tried to keep the thought of it away from your mind as much as possible, standing by the same principles as the ginger-haired officer. In the field, you didn’t have time to mourn; and outside of it, time was too precious to attempt predicting the breath that the following day would suck out out of one of your fellow soldiers. Although the both of you had at first tried to fight it, thinking ahead about what devastating consequences falling in love would bring be one of you killed in combat, you couldn’t have come as far as you had without each other. Even the most violent of human struggles hadn’t managed to turn your heart into the same steel that made up your bayonets. 

“Aren’t Nixon and Harry going to come back?” you whispered regretfully, your fingers mindlessly running through the slightly damp hair at the back of Dick’s head.

“I asked them to wait for a bit.” Winters gave you an implicit answer followed by a little smile, stroking your forearms as he kissed you on the cheek. “They’re busy playing games and gambling anyway.”

“I see,” you smiled back, closing your eyes as you let yourself go all against Dick, the regular rising of his torso lulling you as you felt much warmer, your preceding running of Currahee now already seeming like a distant memory. 

It was in each other’s arms that the two of you eventually dozed off, soothed by the fluttering rhythm of the rain pounding against the windows of the barracks and the cosiness that enfolded you, making you hope for many more evenings like this. Even on the chilliest and most straining of days, the space between Dick Winters’s arms was a place for your heart to rest in. 

[aubrey-plaza]

CREATOR TAG MEME

Rules: It’s time to love yourselves! Choose your 5 (ish) favorite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought into the world in 2020. Tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome works!

I was tagged by:

Sarah / @timothyolyphant. Sarah Sarah Sarah, where do I even begin. Started from the bottom now we here but it’s actually started from an ask I sent on anon about getting sunburnt in Bali, and now we here. Life always manages to remind me that through adversity you forge valuable bonds and you are one of those. Your gifs are amazing and your personality is even more stunning. I love talking to you and I love seeing much you love fostering people’s creativity. It has truly made me look at gifmaking in a different light and injected to much fun and positivity into this. So thank you, friend <3

Nums / @cillianmurphy. Nums, my love, fellow Bulb. What could I possibly have done so well in the past to deserve your presence in my life! Always teaching me new slang by osmosis and always a balm to my weathered heart, you lift even the darkest days with your kindness, consideration, and love for Paddington 2 best movie ever made. Plus your gifmaking brain is full chefs kiss. Thank you for teaching me so many things. One day when the world stops being so crazy I WILL visit you and hug you and that is a threat <3

Kumi / @hollywoods. Kumi, my cat icon kin. Simply said, I think your gifmaking skills are out of this world and your graphics live rent free in my mind. Your humour never fails to make me laugh and I need you to know that I STILL think about the time you described yourself as wearing a jester outfit jangling across the court for a laff. You’re a bright spot in my life and I’m grateful I’ve gotten to know you this year. Please never stop being so amazing <3

Cece / @nickyoung. Cece my darling. Thank you SO much for joining my lovecraft sideblog, I literally could not have done it without you. We don’t talk a lot but that doesn’t mean I don’t value you so much. Your creativity is incredible and your sets are SO fucking gorgeous and honestly goals. Seeing you flourish fills me with so much pride and joy and I’m so happy we got to know each other this year <3

Okay emo stuff out of the way, time for my favourite edits! There were a lot and im indecisive so here goes:

max max: fury road set - I like to call this set “kate learns how to make a colour set.” I learned how to make gifs and mmfr is one of my all-time favourite movies so it was only right that I made a set. I always thought this movie was only orange and blues, but making this gifset made me fall in love with the movie even more

birds of prey / dinah lance set - Dinah Lance love of my life. If you’ve followed me this year, you will know that I went into birds of prey a person and left birds of prey a dinah lance stan. I previously made a birds of prey colour set, but I wanted to do one JUST for dinah. I’ve seen one too many people say that it’s hard to do colour sets of poc so I had to see for myself and I’m SO proud of how colourful this set is. plus, yknow, I love her. 

pacific rim / stacker pentecost set - pacrim is one of my FAVOURITE movies and this character has so many iconic lines. This lowkey turned into a colour set which isn’t hard for a movie like pacrim. 

record stores in films set - I woke up one sunday morning and my brain was YELLING at me to make this set. I downloaded 25 movies that all have iconic record store scenes and watched every single one and ended up with ten perfect gifs. I cut so many movies bc they didn’t work as well and I’m so sad abt that but I had SO much fun watching the movies and ended up falling in love and finding a new fave in the compilation so it was really a Project and I had Fun. 

the old guard set - this line makes me SO feral and I just HAD to gif it. It’s one my favourites because it’s my new lesson for life.

BONUS: my Lovecraft Country sets. This show taught me SO much and despite it’s awful ending, I’m still grateful for the first 7 episodes and I did end up making 65 sets for it over 10 weeks so I feel it deserves a special place in my 2020 recap

women in history - learning about history through a show, is there anything better? This set in particular was SO easy to make and took me literally 20 minutes, but that’s because it’s built on a solid foundation of knowledge. I knew the moment I saw a character which person in history she was and I think that’s a kudos to the show and to how well they taught me stuff. Also these other historical sets. 

leti lewis outfits - took me FOR EVER. still fun tho.

episode 2 colours - speaks for itself but this show is so STUPID to colour and you can never use a psd bc every scene is lit differently but making a colour set was so much fun because of the challenge

this name etymology set - this took me four days and SO much time but im so proud of it because I tried new techniques and learned so much

Tagging some friends because I love seeing y’alls creations but I want to know what YOUR favourites are!

@vicspedretti @daisylouisejohnson @dani-clayton @hannahsgrose @jodiewhittakerr @hannahjohn-kamen @robintunney @chris-evans @alex-krycek @clintfbarton @bosemanchadwick @chloebeale @hailesteinfeld @timeslord @melsmonroe @annelisters @owenjoyner 

[treatian]

The Chronicles of the Dark One: Breaking the Curse

Chapter 34: Criminal Organizations

It was a perfect plan. A brilliant plan. But it was a double-frame job, and that made it a complex plan. He had to make it look like Mary Margaret was behind Kathryn Nolan's disappearance, on the surface, at least. But when it came right down to it, he had to make it something deeper. He intended to make Regina look like she was responsible for framing Mary Margaret. It was complex on the whole, but when he sat down to think it through it, piece by piece, it at least seemed much simpler. But still, expensive.

There was work to be done with this, work he couldn't be seen doing, work he couldn't actually do physically because he might be too slow, or it might arouse suspicions. So, he hired Dove's cousins, damn near all of Dove's cousins. It felt like every last one of them had a job to do or was reporting to him. Marc was already watching David. He'd put Stan on watching Emma Swan while Dove assisted him with Kathryn. He finally broke down and tasked another cousin to watch Mary Margaret and one to keep an eye on Regina from a distance and another for Sidney Glass, first because he wasn't going to make the mistake of underestimating him again and second because he had plans for him later. Hell, he'd even gotten Dove to put his old friend Will Scarlet on the payroll. He'd asked him to stick to his job at Granny's as a new dishwasher a little more reliably for a while. Everything happened at Granny's; he wanted eyes and ears there too. If any of them suspected what they were participating in, they didn't question it. It was expensive, but it would be worth it if he could pull this off with the desired results.

He employed two more to go to Regina Mill's residence, where he told them to retrieve a shovel. They'd returned with one that was large and bulky, probably not the right choice for a woman, but he'd work with what he had. When they returned, he sent them to Mary Margaret's apartment with a skeleton key he'd gotten "on loan" from Regina earlier in the day and a hunting knife he'd had in the back of his shop collecting dust since the beginning of the Curse. It was likely one of Graham's, from the other world, but he'd never claim it now. And because he'd already seen to any evidence it had ever been in his shop, no one would ever trace it to him either. "Use this to get into Mary Margaret's apartment," he explained, handing the key over, "and be sure to hide this," he wrapped the knife in a cloth and gave it over as well, "somewhere in the apartment that is neither too obvious nor too difficult to find. Remember to wear gloves and don't make a mess of things. Oh, and while you're there, I need you to steal something, preferably a box, preferably something old or stashed away in a closet that the girl isn't likely to notice it gone for a while. And on your way back, I need you to go see Sheri Lewis, the butcher..."

A few hours later, they'd done their job. Extremely well, if he had to say so himself. They'd returned from Mary Margaret's with an old jewelry box they claimed they found in the back of her closet buried under some clothes as if for safekeeping. And from Sheri Lewis, former warlord turned butcher, they returned with a sheep's heart. He fetched another hunting knife from his back room and made sure to cut just below all the places Lewis had cut the heart himself. It wouldn't be an exact match, but at least it was two hunting knives that appeared to make the cuts instead of a clean butcher's knife. Then, after cleaning the blade, he placed the heart inside the jewelry box himself then returned to the front of the store and the men who were waiting. He handed one of them the shovel along with the small piece of the shovel he'd broken off himself while they'd been at Mary Margaret's.

"Bury this-" he motioned to the metal fragment, "under this-" he handed him the box as well, "using this-" he explained, handing them the now broken shovel. "Bury it under the old toll bridge." The place that Marc had told him David would meet Mary Margaret when they were seeing each other. "Were seeing," past tense, since his spies reported they were on the outs since the affair went public. "When you are done with that shovel, kindly return it to Regina's home to the place you found it. And please, both of you, remember not to muddy the future crime scene with your fingerprints or other potential evidence," he muttered, glancing down at their shoes. "You only get paid if the right people are implicated."

Breaking and entering, murder weapon hidden, soon enough Kathryn would be secure and missing...but it still wouldn't be enough. He would need DNA. He was a lawyer; he knew that would be the clincher to doing this right. But he had plans for that to be fixed at a higher level. Dove had a cousin who worked in the hospital. When Dove went to pick up Kathryn, he was under orders to get some of her blood and leave it in the mailbox when he arrived at the safe house. Once everyone of his players were asleep, he'd send another cousin to pick it up and take it to the cousin who worked in the hospital and now for him. That cousin would make sure results matched when the time came. In the meantime, he resisted the urge to take notes on who was doing what or start making name tags for all Dove's cousins. It might help him keep things straight, but as of right now, none of this could be tied to him, and if he made a list like that...

"Is it done?" he questioned when he received a call from Dove just past one in the morning a couple of nights after he'd had his conversation with Regina. He was utterly exhausted already. He'd wanted everything done and set by the time this call arrived. He usually was in bed strictly by nine, ten at the latest, but he'd waited up just to hear from Dove that one of the last pieces had fallen into place.

"Yeah, just finished getting her in and settled…if you call banging against a soundproof door settled."

"Did she give you any trouble?"

"No. The car stopped just like you thought. How did you know that would happen?"

"I have my ways, Mr. Dove. Everything else went as planned?"

"Yeah, I blindfolded her, convinced her I had a gun, and got her into the car, then waited until after dark to get her into the house. Blood's in the mailbox. She actually cut herself before I grabbed her, so no harm, no foul there. She's in the basement now. I left her some books and cards to keep her entertained; hopefully, she'll notice when she calms down a bit. Why do you have a house like this?"

"The former tenant wanted to start a band and make a recording studio. When he failed to pay rent, I saw the benefit in keeping what he'd done. Make yourself comfortable, Mr. Dove, check-in and call me if you need something. I'll see your needs are met."

Getting Kathryn, like the rest of the plan, was easy enough. In talking to Regina, he'd learned that Kathryn had confessed to her weeks ago that she'd applied to law school in Boston. Boston…David's affair with Mary Margaret wasn't a strong relationship, nor was his relationship with Kathryn. A little pressure and everything was sure to begin to crack. And with just the right pressure, then Kathryn would get herself to the perfect place to disappear for a while…the town line. Either she'd get there alone, and he could go through with his plan. Or David would go with her, and Mary Margaret would be devastated. One way, and he'd be happy, another and Regina would be. It was a careful bet. But it had paid off. The affair became public knowledge yesterday. Will Scarlet had reported that to Dove, who had let him know that the relationship seemed to be over. Tonight, he wasn't surprised that Kathryn had gone alone. Or attempted to, at least.

He was exhausted, sorely in need of a good night's sleep after all of this, but he wasn't done yet. This weekend was Miner's Day, a town holiday, and the morning after Dove took Kathryn, as the town prepared for a weekend of festivities, he realized that he had one more visit to pay. Regina was taken care of, and Mary Margaret was taken care of…now he had to handle the third person in this trio…Emma Swan.

Yes, he wanted Regina to think he was working for her, and yes, he wanted to let her think she was close to getting everything she'd ever wanted…again. But then he needed Emma to take it all away. Emma was the key; the wild card he needed to be sure was tamed. After what he'd done, in a normal police precinct, Mary Margaret would go to jail for life, without question, because there would be no reason for the police to look deeper into it. But in Storybrooke, Emma Swan was the sheriff, and even if Regina had forgotten who the enemy was, he suspected that Emma would not. With everything pointing to her good friend Mary Margaret she'd investigate, she'd leave no stone unturned. She'd be determined to look deeper and prove it wasn't her. What would she find? Regina. Not Mary Margaret, but Regina. He was paying good money for that.

But it wasn't enough. He needed to be certain that along with Regina's guilt and Mary Margaret's innocence, she discovered something else. Motive. It was time. All his visions in the Enchanted Forest had always been clear. Emma needed to face off Regina. If it wouldn't happen naturally, then he'd kill two birds with one stone and orchestrate the damn thing himself. In the midst of all this, he needed Emma to ask questions, and he needed her to think. Why would the Mayor of Storybrooke hate a simple schoolteacher so much that she was willing to frame her? Why would she murder someone just to put Mary Margaret in jail? Why would she care so much?

Those were difficult questions that required a difficult answer, but the time had come to give her something to believe in that went beyond what she could see. And how would he do that? Well…there was one step in his plan that he was most worried about, one step that he didn't want to leave up to fate. Mary Margaret running away. He had a plan for that, but unfortunately, he needed someone to help him, and he was fresh out of cronies. Fortunately, he knew someone he might be able to convince, someone who used to work for him, someone who hadn't wanted to see him again but wouldn't remember that in this world.

"Mr. Jefferson," he smiled when his old associate answered the door. He stepped forward to offer his hand in a friendly shake. "I don't believe we've met, I'm-"

"Rumpelstiltskin…what took you so long?"

[extremelyblackandwhite]

lover series - i forgot that you existed

Pairing: Chris Beck x Reader

Warning: mentions of heartbreak

A/N: i’m not entirely sure what to write for my new multiple chapter fanfic i have quite a few ideas and i’m loving the character ideas you’re sending. until i decide which idea to go with, i decided to do something I’ve always wanted to do which is write a little drabble for various sebastian stan characters based on the songs present within taylor swift’s masterpiece, lover. if you have not heard the album here’s the spotify link. i hope you guys enjoy it xx  

Chris was hopelessly, stupidly in love with his best friend, Y/N. He had met her during their freshers week, sat at at pub table along with her flatmates looking the most bored someone could look at a pub. He still remembered how she looked on that day, with her beautiful hair let down instead of the upwards hairstyle she always used during class and a loose red dress, no makeup, staring at the pint in front of her. Chris could help stuck up a conversation with her and from that moment on they became inseparable. 

They were even on the same course, so he saw her every single day in lectures with her cup of green tea and laptop. It hadn’t taken any longer for Martinez and Watney to realise Chris followed Y/N around like a lost puppy. Watney had even tried to get Chris to ask Y/N out, however his hopes were crashed when Beth and Melissa, Y/N’s flatmates, warned him that Y/N was closed off dating.

What they had told Chris was that Y/N was still recovering from a pretty bad breakup she went through the summer before university started. Ever since Y/N spent her days thinking about how Dave, as Chris, Watney and Martinez had named him due to not knowing his name, did her wrong and how she’d rather be a successful student than ever be heartbroken again.

She had sworn off dating and she was not gonna date again. Trust, Chris knew she was really off dating, whenever they went out for drinks or to the movies, every guy would hit on her and she would rebuff him in such a fashion that Watney had dubbed her to be the heartbreaking one of the group. 

     - You’re staring again, Beck. - Mark elbowed in the side, noticing Chris eyes were on Y/N’s back. They always sat a row above the girls not to interrupt their studies as they always complained whenever they spoke during lectures. - Just ask her out.

    - I can’t ask her out. - Chris turned to his friend, upset that they still brought it up. He always told himself that he’d eventually meet another girl and fall in love with her and forget about Y/N but it had been 3 years and he was still head over heels with Y/N. 

    - Beck, Watney, what is so interesting that you’d rather be speaking in my lecture than listening to it? - their lecture called them out making Y/N, Beth and Melissa turned to face the boys, a smirk on their faces. 

    - Sorry Mr. Parris. - Chris said, mentally wanting to stab Watney. He needed to pass this module and if he continued to piss off the lecturer, he would never do it. After what felt like two hours but were only thirty minutes, everyone was dismissed. 

Y/N, Beth and Melissa were the first ones to exit as usual. They always went to their favourite table on the ground floor of the library were they could eat as well as revise for their modules. Those were always the first ones to go out, so they always rushed there.

They got to their favourite tables and placed their bags on the table, sitting on the worn out black chairs, laptops going on top of the table along with their post its filled with more notes. 

    - So, the spring ball is in a week. Who are you guys taking? - Melissa started their short gossiping. They always did a bit of girl talk before they went straight onto their studies. - I’m thinking about inviting my lab partner.

    - Blonde with the cute bum? - Y/N inquired and Melissa nodded. - Are you guys gonna finally stop flirting and go the next step?

    - Look who’s talking, Miss Single. - Melissa teased. - I know who you are taking, no one. What about you Beth, please tell me you’re taking someone.

    - Maybe I’m gonna ask Chris. I don’t think someone has asked him yet. - the redhead said with a smile on her face. Y/N however did not share the same excitement Melissa showed her. She didn’t know Beth had a thing for Chris, it was never mentioned to her. 

    - Chris Beck? As in my best friend Christopher Beck? - maybe it was another Chris. God, the name Chris was a popular one, every single kid had it as either their first or middle name. 

    - Yeah, Chris. Why has someone asked him out already? 

    - Not that I know of. When did you start liking Chris?

    - He’s handsome and he’s sweet, there’s not a lot of guys that are handsome and sweet besides we wanna go into the same NASA programme after university so it has potential to be something serious. 

    - Just took me by surprise. - Y/N shrugged, head going straight to her book. Melissa furrowed her eyebrows turning to Beth to ask her something which caused her to leave to grab a book.

    - Right, Y/N. Spill it. - Melissa grabbed the book away from her, making sure she listened to her instead of reading volume two of the physiology of organ systems.

    - Spill what? - Y/N tried to push the book back but Melissa was already expecting this and put it on the table behind them. - I need to read two chapters in an hour to make sure my study sche ...

    - “Chris Beck? As in my friend Christopher Beck?” - Melissa mocked her voice, rolling her eyes. - We don’t know any other Chrises, you idiot. 

    - That’s just hurtful. There’s another Chris.

    - Where? - she crossed her arms, leaning against her chair.

    - Chris, the guy that serves us coffee every single day. - to be honest, Y/N did not know the name of that guy because he didn’t use a name tag but he looked like a Chris. He was probably a Chris. 

    - God, Y/N just admit it you like Chris. You’ve liked Chris since you two went on that weird medicine field trip and ever since you haven’t shut up about him. 

    - I never talk about Chris.

    - Oh really? Just yesterday we were watching Breakfast at Tiffanys and just because the male lead had blue eyes you mentioned Chris. God Y/N, you like Chris. 

    - Chris is my best friend, Melissa. Besides, you know I don’t date.

    - Why because you’re still hang up on your ex? The same ex you have not mentioned or complained about ever since you and Chris came back from the medicine field trip. - Chris and Y/N were part of the same course unlike everyone else who were only on some lecturers together which meant they got to go on field trips together. Since their group was so tight knitted, she got some alone time with Chris, something she deeply adored as he was probably the nicest, funniest guy she ever knew. In all honesty, she had been so busy thinking about how nice he was, she had completely forgotten about her ex. Heck, she had even forgotten his name. There was no more love, no more hate, it was just indifference.  - Tell Beth you’re going with Chris.

    - No, I’m not going with Chris because he’s going with Beth.

    - Right, are you dense? 

    - I don’t wanna hurt my friend besides I’m his best friend, he doesn’t see me that way. - Y/N sported a sad smile now, something that made Melissa deeply upset. She knew Chris liked her and now she was sure Y/N liked him back, however it wasn’t her place to break it to her friend that her best friend had been in love with her ever since they met. - I don’t wanna hurt Beth.

    - What’s Chris favourite movie?

    - Taxi Driver, why?

    - Beth? - Melissa turned to face Beth. - What’s Chris’ favourite movie?

    - I don’t know, ask Y/N. - she returned to look for the book she was looking for in the huge book shelf. 

    - See? Whenever someone needs anything about Chris they always ask you. Go on, go and ask him out and then return. 

    - Will you stop annoying me if I do so?

    - I’ll even buy you dinner, go.

Y/N got up from her seat, placing the laptop in her bag and walking away from the table. How was she even going to ask Chris out? He was her best friend, he had never shown any interest and he had seen in situation that would stop anyone from being remotely interested in her. As she was about to walk out the library she saw the very familiar grey sweater from the NASA museum Chris always wore. She rushed in front of him, stopping him in his tracks.

    - Hi Y/N, are you okay? 

    - Are you going to the spring ball? - she was one of those people, always trying to get stuff away before she got scared and decided not to do it.

    - No, I thought we were going to McDonalds and then to a movie.

    - Right, rain check on that. Would you like to go to the spring ball?

    - No, sounds like a waste of time besides I’d have to find someone to invite to go with or be the alone one and get mocked by Watney and Martinez ... and probably Lewis.

    - No, I mean would you like to go to the spring ball with me as in a date. Me and you in a date.

    - Did Martinez put you up to this?

    - No, I just ... I like you and I’d like it if we went together. See how it works. 

    - I would love to, Y/N.

[unpack-my-heart]

De Profundis

Written for @violetreddie​ as a very late secret santa gift! I hope you like it 🥦

@tinyarmedtrex @xandertheundead​ @constantreaderfool​ @appojoos​ @moonlightrichie​ @toziesque​ @eds-trashmouth​ 

Click HERE to read the whole thing on AO3

Preview:

When they were in high school, they had always been EddieAndRichie. Inseparable, Maggie Tozier had called them. She cooed when they went to prom together, “just as friends, Eds, just friends, two bros, chillin’ in tuxes, totes platonic, you know the drill,” Richie had insisted, after badgering Eddie to tell him what colour tie he planned to wear so that they’d match. It was at this prom that they’d stood on the football field in the pouring rain and sworn that they’d apply to the University of Maine for college, that they’d convince the others to come too, but, more importantly, that they’d remain EddieAndRichie, no space, no room for anything, or anyone, else.

“It’s just you an’ me, Eds, s’how it’ll always be,” Richie had shouted, voice fighting against the torrent of water falling from the sky, and Eddie had nodded fervently.

“You and me”

After senior prom, and the most bizarre moment of Eddie’s life, when Richie had lent in so close to Eddie’s face that he went cross-eyed, and Eddie was so sure that Richie was going to kiss him, before he’d pulled away and lept out of his own mothers moving car at the intersection, everything had changed.

It wasn’t a tectonic shift at first, nothing too dramatic or noticeable to the undiscerning eye. The movies that Eddie watched late at night when his mother was having her NyQuil nightmares told him, with their hazy colour palettes, that the summer between high school and college, when he was not a boy, not yet a man, was a transformative time, an eight week stretch that didn’t abide by such silly constraints as time and space, when things, and people, changed and always, these movies insisted, always, for the better.

The movies lied.

Read the whole thing under the cut

The first day of the rest of Eddie’s life fizzled like a dud firework. The University of Maine, those hallowed halls that Eddie had romantically-with-a-capital-R imagined himself walking down, books clutched in his hands, glasses that he didn’t need perched studiously on the end of his nose, had been the place that, according to the brochure, would nurture him, would propel him forward to greatness with a great shove, and Eddie had eaten up these sickly promises greedily. In actuality, Sonia had dumped Eddie at the entrance to his dorm building with a sob and a screech, and, as soon as her car turned the corner and disappeared out of sight, the bottom of Eddie’s suitcase had given up and his clothes hit the pavement with a dull thud.

If Eddie had been the kind of person who cried, he’d have cried. He’d have dropped to his knees dramatically, thrown his head back and howled his woes at the grey-blue sky with his teeth bared. But he wasn’t. Eddie Kaspbrak didn’t cry. Instead, he swept as many articles of clothing as he could into his grasp and walked purposefully towards the registration desk.

“Eddie Kaspbrak, I’d sign my own name but … y’know, clothes”

The girl sat behind the desk laughed.

“I can see that, but I really do need your signature, otherwise I can’t hand over your keys”

“Seriously?”

“As a heart-attack, I’m afraid. I could take over on don’t-let-Eddie’s-jumpers-drag-along-the-floor duty whilst you sort yourself out though?”

“Are you sure?” Eddie asked, already thrusting the bundle of clothing at her, “you’re a life-saver, I swear to God”

“Us members of the arrival survival team take our pledge very seriously, I’m just doing my job,” the girl said with an exaggerated shrug, sending a sleeve of one of Eddie’s shirts flying over her shoulder.

Eddie filled in the relevant paperwork, signing his name with an overemphasised flourish. The girl handed his clothing back, revealing the name tag that was pinned haphazardly to her sweater.

“Kay? You’re a peach. Thank you. Now, uh,” Eddie said, shifting his grip on the clothes so he didn’t drop his keys, “which way do I need to go? I think I’m in the Arthur Lewis building but I … have no idea where that is”

– X –

The diner smelt like three-day-old oil and loneliness, the kind that only those who sought solace under the flickering lights of a 24 hour diner will ever understand, and the bell jingled miserably when Eddie pushed the door open. He shook his head like a dog, droplets of rain water spraying the wall, much to the chagrin of the overworked and under-payed waitress.

“Eddie! Over here!”

A familiar voice cut through the clanging of pots and the low chatter of the other patrons of Bob Grey’s Diner.  

Eddie picked his way through the labyrinth of tables, before slumping down onto the crackled leather seat, immediately dropping his head onto Beverly’s shoulder.

“Hey,” he muttered, eyes closed against the artificial light of the sign buzzing in the window.

BOB GR Y’S DIN R

BOB GR Y’S DIN R

BOB GR Y’S DIN R

“You’re late,” Bev said, factually, but she didn’t look at him, instead continuing to push half-eaten eggs around her plate with a fork.

“I know, I got held up at home,” Eddie replied. It was a lie, a white lie but a lie nonetheless, and a lie that he knew Beverly would see right through, but he said it anyway.

“Hiya, Eds!”

“Don’t call me Eds, Richard”

It began almost immediately. Richie would lunge forward with an aborted attempt at humour, perhaps chastise Eddie for something, “why do you order like such an old woman, Eds?” and Eddie would parry with a “shut the fuck up, trash-for-brains”, before it’d start all over again. It was exhausting, and Eddie would limp off the battlefield with new wounds that would scab over and form fresh scars, but there was something intoxicating about it. The most fucked up mating ritual in the animal kingdom.

“Can I getcha anything, sweetheart?” the waitress asked, and Eddie snapped out of his introspection with a sharp jolt.

“Uh, maybe, yeah, yeah, hang on, uh, can I get the, uh – the eggs? But can I get them on whole-wheat instead of white bread, please? And, maybe, maybe the – uh – the orange juice? But no ice, oh and could you double check the eggs don’t come with pepper, please? Thank you, thank you so much”

He handed the menu back over to the disinterested waitress with a sheepish grin, and turned his attention back to the table, only to be met with that familiar Richie smirk.

The dance continued.

“So,” Richie began, and Eddie tensed, steeling himself. “So, you’ve decided you’re allergic to pepper now, too?”

“Pardon?” Eddie replied, shooting for bored but sailing straight past and landing on uptight.

“Pepper. Could you, uh, could you maybe please maybe make sure there isn’t any of that nasty sneezy pepper on my uh, on my eggs? Thank you so much, thank you,”

“Fuck you”

“If you ask nicely, sure”

“You’re incorrigible”

“That’s a big word for such a little boy”

“I’m going to garrotte you with Stan’s dental floss, don’t think I won’t, because I will, I’ll come at you in the night”

“I’m trembling in my boots, Spaghetti, honestly”

“Jesus, will you two either go fuck in the bathroom or shut up? You’re making my ears bleed,” Bev said, shoving at Richie with a playful but still sharp elbow.

The rest of the losers ignored them and their bickering, instead busying themselves with lamenting about their huge college workloads.

“Professor Sumner has really been on my ass this semester, I handed in three problem sheets yesterday and she’s still not happy –”

“Yeah! I submitted my portfolio for the semester for grading four weeks ago and I still haven’t had it back, every time I check my grade I feel like –”

“Oh Jesus and don’t even get me started on how many exams I have when we get back after the Christmas break, just looking at my exam timetable is enough to –”

“I have INTOLERANCES, Richard! It’s not my fucking fault pepper makes me sneeze!”

“Pepper makes everyone sneeze, you moron!”

The monthly brunch was permanently etched into each of the Losers’ calendars on the last Sunday of every month. It was Mike’s idea. Initially, they’d tried to stick to a weekly schedule, dedicating each and every Sunday to each other, but the cracks had soon started to show. Stan was the first to become flaky, missing this Sunday and that, citing difficult homework or plans with new friends as the reason for not showing up. Then, Bill had stopped coming almost all-together, showing his face perhaps once a month at most, and even when he did, he’d disappear almost immediately after finishing his food. When they’d gone almost a whole month without seeing each other at all, Bev had rung Eddie with steel in her voice and demanded that he help her organise an intervention. Eddie had been reticent at first, having almost convinced himself that he was bizarrely content with letting the flame of their friendship die down, but then Richie had, without warning, turned up at his door with a blanket tucked under his arm and deep purple rings framing his eyes.

“I can’t sleep”

“Come in, Rich”

– X –

When they were in high school, they had always been EddieAndRichie. Inseparable, Maggie Tozier had called them. She cooed when they went to prom together, “just as friends, Eds, just friends, two bros, chillin’ in tuxes, totes platonic, you know the drill,” Richie had insisted, after badgering Eddie to tell him what colour tie he planned to wear so that they’d match. It was at this prom that they’d stood on the football field in the pouring rain and sworn that they’d apply to the University of Maine for college, that they’d convince the others to come too, but, more importantly, that they’d remain EddieAndRichie, no space, no room for anything, or anyone, else.

“It’s just you an’ me, Eds, s’how it’ll always be,” Richie had shouted, voice fighting against the torrent of water falling from the sky, and Eddie had nodded fervently.

“You and me”

After senior prom, and the most bizarre moment of Eddie’s life, when Richie had lent in so close to Eddie’s face that he went cross-eyed, and Eddie was so sure that Richie was going to kiss him, before he’d pulled away and lept out of his own mothers moving car at the intersection, everything had changed.

It wasn’t a tectonic shift at first, nothing too dramatic or noticeable to the undiscerning eye. The movies that Eddie watched late at night when his mother was having her NyQuil nightmares told him, with their hazy colour palettes, that the summer between high school and college, when he was not a boy, not yet a man, was a transformative time, an eight week stretch that didn’t abide by such silly constraints as time and space, when things, and people, changed and always, these movies insisted, always, for the better.

The movies lied.

The morning after senior prom, Eddie woke before Richie. He grabbed his suit, where it lay crumpled in a sad little pile in the middle of Richie’s bombsite bedroom, and left without saying goodbye. Richie didn’t ring him. Eddie hovered around in the kitchen when he got home, but the phone didn’t ring. Around lunch time, Eddie sat at the kitchen table, pretending to be very interested indeed in the story his mother was telling him about the woman who worked at the supermarket on a Wednesday and her mother’s brother’s son’s daughter’s scandalous second marriage. Yes, mother, do please tell me more about this woman and her promiscuous affair with the postman while I sit here and wait for my best-friend-but-maybe-not-anymore to ring me to settle this tempest in my stomach. The tempest raged on well into the evening, and the bland stew that Sonia Kaspbrak proffered went uneaten on the kitchen counter.

Soon enough, and without consciously realising, Eddie stopped waiting for the phone to ring.

– X –

“I can’t sleep”

“Come in, Rich”

Clasping the blanket tightly between his hands, Richie shuffled into the room.

“This is weird”

“Is it?”

“Not really,” Richie said, flopping down onto Eddie’s bed. “That’s precisely why it’s so weird”

Not knowing how to respond, Eddie busied himself putting his study materials away into neat piles. Pencils here, anthology of renaissance poetry there, a packet of post-its balanced neatly on top.

“Are you okay?” Eddie asked, and Richie nodded his head in response, before pausing for a beat, and then shaking it.

“Not really, Eddie Spaghetti, not really”

“Oh.”

A pause. A pause that stretched for slightly too long, and then a great, deafening silence. Richie lay on the bed, arm thrown dramatically over his eyes, and Eddie stood awkwardly in the corner of his own room, a stranger imposing on an intimate moment, made even more painful by the fact that he didn’t know whether he was allowed to console Richie anymore, or whether Richie would shrug him off as he would a barely-there acquaintance.

“Aren’t you going to ask me what’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?” Eddie asked dutifully, but remained shielded by the comfort of his corner, a poignant distance maintained between them.

“Ah,” Richie said, a glint in his eye that Eddie didn’t recognise, “don’t worry about it. I’m fine, really I am. Just got a case of can’t-sleep-itis. I’ll survive, the prognosis looks pretty good”

Considering it was the first time in just under a month that they had spent more than brief moments in the hallways together, small waves and tiny smiles at each other over the raging sea of other students, before one of them got swept up in the tide and was pulled away before greetings could be exchanged.

“I’m going to take a lit elective,” Richie said, as easily as if he’d just told Eddie that it was going to snow the next day. “Oh, and it’s supposed to snow tomorrow”

“Pardon?”

“Yeah, the weather dude said we were supposed to get a few inches over-night, but I’ve got a few inches I can give him overnight if you catch my drift,” Richie said, grabbing at his crotch gratuitously.

‘What? No – gross. I’m not – No. I meant the lit elective, you’re taking a lit class?”

“Yup,” Richie said, popping the ‘p’ like it was bubblegum, “I got it all sorted a few weeks ago, actually. I’m taking the ‘poetry and experiment’ class”

“Ben’s taking that, he said he’s enjoying it so far, he said it was helping him push the boundaries of genre, and he said that –”

“Are we a prospectus now? Push the boundaries of genre?”

“That’s what Ben said!” Eddie said, defensively, and crossed his arms over his chest. Richie laughed at him, a laugh that Eddie had never heard before, that sounded more like a shaky gasp than genuine laughter.

“C’mere, you moron. Why are you stood in the corner, all blair-witchy?”

“I dunno”

“Yes, you do”

“No, I’m just – stood. There isn’t a reason for –”

“Yes, there is”

“No there isn’t!”

“Eds…”

“Richard”

“Come sit with me”

“Okay”

As he sat down next to Richie, Eddie could feel his heart thumping like a pneumatic drill, hammering against the cage of his ribs. He was sure that Richie could hear it too, but if he could, Richie didn’t mention it. All he did was swoop his arms around Eddie’s shoulders and tug him down, and Eddie squawked as he fell, but he still let Richie rearrange his limbs so they were sat close together, Richie tucked around Eddie’s side neatly.

“Have you spoken to Bev?” Eddie asked.

“Hmm,” Richie hummed, stroking a hand through Eddie’s hair thoughtfully. “She rang me yesterday, something about getting the old gang back together. What do you think?”

“I nearly said no”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I nearly said that I didn’t care if we all drifted apart, that that’s what happens to people when you go to college, everyone says so”

“Not everyone fought, and brutally murdered, a demonic clown from outer space with their friends before they’d even finished going through puberty, some of us still haven’t finished going through –”

The sentence died in Richie’s mouth as Eddie pummelled him with closed fists, shrieking as he did so.

“Fuck you, Richard!”

“Hey! Hey now, I’m – Jesus, short-stack, I was joking! Suspend the attack, call off the troops, ooof!”

After flipping Richie off, Eddie turned so he was lying on his side, so that his back was flush against Richie’s front.

“I know, I – I guess I was starting to forget”

“Forget?”

“Forget what it was like when we were all together, that – that feeling I get in my gut when I’m with you all, like – like this is where I’m supposed to be, you know? Like, these are my people”

Richie nodded.

“Yeah, yeah I get you. I said yes, but mainly because I was scared Red would come at me with those massive fabric shears if I said no”

With that, all of the tension drained out of the room, and out of Eddie’s spine. They spent the evening in Eddie’s bed, always curled around each other, always talking in hushed tones, always breathing in sync. When he was sure that Richie was in a deep sleep, Eddie, trying not to think too much about the reasons why, logged onto the college portal and swapped out ‘contemporary literary theory and its applications’ for ‘poetry and experiment’.

When Eddie woke in the morning, Richie had gone.

– X –

The next time Eddie saw Richie was just under a week later, when Richie loped into the seminar room for Poetry and Experiment. Eddie, who always sat next to a very enthusiastic Benjamin Hanscom, shrunk down in his seat, as if he could hide behind the three large textbooks on his table. No such luck.

“Well, fancy seeing you two fine feathered fellas here!”

“Hiya, Richie! Eddie told me you were going to start taking this course, it’s great to have you!” Ben said, pulling out the empty chair next to him, before gesturing for Richie to sit down.

“Ah, yes, he told me that you’d be here, handsome, but not that he took this course also! Holding out on me, Kaspbrak?”

“Well, actually, Eddie has only just transferred to this course, he dropped –”

“Hey! Ben, esslay ofyay ethay ansferredtray,” Eddie hissed at Ben, but Richie just raised an eyebrow in challenge.

“oureyay utecay enwhay oureyay anickedpay. You’re not the only one that speaks Pig Latin here, Eds”

“Shut up”

“Ever the charmer, isn’t he, Ben? Just gets my heart a’thumpin,” Richie said, before he reached down into his backpack and pulled out a notebook. “Right, I don’t know about you but I’m ready to flex my poetry muscles, you up for the challenge, Kaspbrak?”

“Bring it on, Richard”

– X –

The seminar was a disaster. Each of the students stood up at the end of the two hour session to read out what they had so far, and Eddie was the last to go. He stood up with trembling knees and read from his notebook in wavering, hushed tones.

“…That way, she’d live forever. That’s, uh, that’s all I’ve got”

Richie yawned, long, dramatic, and fake, from his corner of the room.

“Blank verse? Pretty uninspired, Eds. It’s okay, though, we can’t all be John Milton, no hard feelings”

“At least I don’t have a stupid fucking TS Eliot tattoo,” Eddie shot back lightning fast, face immediately creasing in embarrassment when the professor shot up, scolding him for his profanity.

“Now, enough! Sit down you two. Eddie, that poem was a good start indeed, but I am tempted to side with Richie on this, blank verse was certainly the easy way out. I have a few other notes …”

Immediately after the seminar had ended and the professor had dismissed them, Eddie shot out of the room as quickly as a buttered bullet.

“Eddie! Wait!”

It was Ben.

“I have a message to deliver to the whole class, could you come back a sec?”

Reluctantly, Eddie slunk back into the classroom to find Ben stood at the front of the room, several pieces of paper in his hands.

“Right, as most of you, or at least some of you, know, I’ve wanted to start an undergraduate literary journal here at U of M for some time, and I managed to convince the dean to give me the funding so … here we are! I’ve got enough writers for the criticism and stuff, but I need some essayists and poets to flesh out the fiction sections. If you want to submit work, please take a signup sheet! Thanks, guys!”

As soon as Ben had stopped talking, and a small huddle of people had gathered around him, Eddie slipped out of the room again.

“Eds! Wait!”

It was Richie

“Jesus, I didn’t know such little legs could move so fast,” he continued, jogging to catch up with Eddie who didn’t slow down.

“What do you want, Richie?”

“Not signing up for the journal? I thought you’d want to submit She Who Mocks or something”

“Naw, like the professor said, it was uninspired,” Eddie mumbled, taking a sharp left turn, almost losing Richie to the thrum of the crowds in the process.

“I don’t think the prof used that word, Eds, and I was just ribbing you when I said it, you know that”

“Drop it, Rich. I’m not signing up”

“Well, neither am I, so you’re in good company. Mike ran into me earlier and said that he and Stan were going to be at the ‘bucks, shall we?”

“Never call it ‘the ‘bucks’ again and you’ve got yourself a deal”

– X –

To: BenjaminH@hotmail.com:

So … this journal thing

From: BenjaminH@AOL.com:

you gonna sign up? :O

To: BenjaminH@AOL.com:

Thinking about it. What do I have to do?

From: BenjaminH@AOL.com:

send me the poem you’d like to submit, and if it’s successful it’ll be in the Christmas vol which will be published just b4 the end of this semester!!!!!!

To: BenjaminH@AOL.com:

If I do submit something, which I might not, you can’t tell R

From: BenjaminH@AOL.com:

why?

To: BenjaminH@AOL.com:

Just don’t, okay?

From: BenjaminH@AOL.com:

he likes u, u know

To: BenjaminH@AOL.com:

*rolling eye emoji*

From: BenjaminH@AOL.com:

Send it to my college email when you’re done x

Eddie logged off of AOL messenger, opened a blank word document, and took a deep breath.

– X –

Eddie had almost forgotten about the literary journal when a copy of The Maine Literary Review landed in his pigeon hole one frosty December morning. He blinked stupidly at the journal for a few seconds, before he picked it up gingerly, as if it might explode in his hands. Holding his breath, and anxious for a reason he couldn’t place, he flicked to the contents page, and there it was, in size twelve Calibri font.

Birdbones by Mr Bleaney (p. 23)

“Huh,” Eddie breathed out loud to no one but himself. “Huh”

He was now, technically, a published poet. Edward F. Kaspbrak, published poet. It had a ring to it. Not that anyone would know that he, demure little Eddie, had actually written birdbones, and if anyone asked, of course he’d deny ownership. But he knew, and that was enough.

He scanned the rest of the contents page briefly, and his eye was caught by one particular name.

You by De Profundis (p. 24)

Eddie rolled his eyes. De Profundis. Almost certainly a pseudonym chosen for the writers affinity for Oscar Wilde.. He flicked to page twenty-four, and read the sonnet once, twice, three times before he shoved the journal in the front zip pocket of his backpack. Trite. That was the word that most accurately described what he had just read. Trite, with a sort of cloying optimism that turned Eddie’s stomach and made his teeth itch.

When he returned to his dorm in the brief interlude between classes, he started jotting a few lines of verse down, mind swimming with You, You, You, and then, before he’d given it much conscious thought, a new poem was staring up at him, fresh and shiny. And, within it, a small, barely-there jab at De Profundis.

         … From the depths of vacuity, he sits, Promethean, ….

When he found the time, Eddie typed the poem up and sent it off to Ben without giving it a second thought.

– X –

“You’re late again”

“I know, I know”

“Richie’s late too”

“I know”

“You walked in together”

“I am aware”

“Do you have anything you’d like to –”

“Absolutely not,” Eddie said, turning his body away from Bev and her inquisition, and towards Mike and Stan who were currently debating the merits of IHOP syrup over the stuff Stan buys at Trader Joes.

Richie sat next to Eddie, elbows on the table, head cradled in the palm of his hands. He was watching Eddie. Eddie could see him, out of the corner of his eye, helped by the fact that Richie was making no attempt to hide his gaze.

“Have I got syrup on my face?” Eddie asked eventually, squirming under Richie’s gaze.

“Nope”

“A bit of pancake? A forgotten smudge of shaving foam?”

“Don’t joke, Eds, we all know you don’t need to shave yet”

“Asshole,” Eddie scolded, and he tried to shove at Richie with his hand but Richie caught it mid-air, and pulled it down towards the familiar crackled leather of the booth.

Eddie tried to pull his hand away, but Richie held tight, wrapping Eddie’s smaller hand up in his. They weren’t holding hands, not really, but Eddie’s hand was soft and pliant in Richie’s and it almost felt like something, something that just friends don’t do.

“So,” Ben started, drumming his fingers on the table in what Eddie imagined Ben hoped looked inconspicuous, “the first volume of my journal came out”

“I’m so proud of you, babe,” Bev said, running a hand through Ben’s sandy hair.

“Aw, I barely did anything. I had some really great submissions, actually. Especially from two poets in particular, really chalk and cheese, but I put them together because –”

The rest of Ben’s sentence faded to white noise as Eddie felt Richie’s hand tense around his. Eddie looked up at Richie, and was met with a soft smile and a squeeze for his efforts.

“You okay?” Richie whispered.

“I’m fine, I’m great, yeah, it’s all groovy”

“Groovy?”

“S’what I said”

“Why are you nervous?”

“I’m not nervous”

“Yes you are”

“M’not”

“Is it because I’m holding your hand?”

“Absolutely not”

And, as if to prove it, Eddie wiggled his fingers in between Richie’s, interlocking them so that they were holding hands properly.

“Eddie, have you looked at Ben’s journal yet? Inquiring minds want to know,” Stan asked, an innocent enough question but panic shot through Eddie’s spine like adrenaline.

“Uh, sort of. I had a flick through, I wasn’t that impressed”

Richie’s thumb stilled from where it was rubbing small circles on Eddie’s skin.

“You weren’t?” Ben asked, sounding mildly hurt.

“Oh, I mean, it was put together beautifully and your editor’s note was brilliant, and some of the essays were very good, very original stuff about Frankenstein and I liked the thought piece about the influence of Icelandic ghost stories on nineteenth-century culture, but some of the poems were …"

Eddie paused, and Richie didn’t breathe.

“Some of the poems were awful”

“Awful?” Richie asked, voice quieter and more serious than Eddie had heard it in a long time.

“Well, maybe not awful but … cliché. Chocolate box poetry, a dime a dozen type stuff”

“Care to name drop any particularly awful pieces?”

“Well, that birdbones poem was pretty shite, and the pseudonym was ridiculous”

“You like that Larkin poem, though. You read it to me when we moved out of Derry, said that it made you feel old and young all at the same time,” Richie said, voice even but Eddie could sense there existed an undercurrent of annoyance.

“Well yes, but … still,” Eddie finished feebly, waving his hands around as if they could speak better than his mouth.

“Huh,” was all Richie said, before excusing himself to the bathroom, and, without providing an explanation to the rest of his friends, Eddie followed him.

Richie was standing in front of the sink when Eddie pushed his way into the men’s room, staring at himself in the grimey mirror.

“Are you okay?” Eddie asked, leaning against the wall and trying not to think about the hundreds of other patrons who had also leant against that very wall, very probably without having washed their hands or their other appendages properly.

“Huh? Me? I’m fine, Eddie Spaghetti, don’t you worry about me”

“I’m not worried, I’m just … concerned”

“Eddie,” Richie laughed, turning around, “they’re synonyms. They mean the same thing”

“No they don’t!” Eddie insisted, “they mean entirely different things. Worry is more extreme, I am … diluted worry, worry with added water”

“Whatever you say, my little worrywart,” Richie said, pushing his way out of the bathroom to re-join the others at their booth. Eddie followed, unconvinced but not willing to push it further.

– X –

The next volume of The Maine Literary Review landed in Eddie’s pigeon hole three weeks after Christmas break. As he had before, Eddie flicked to the contents page with shaking fingers. And, as had been the case before, there he was, or rather, there Mr Bleaney was, right there, immortalised on the page.

From the Depths by Mr Bleaney (p. 14)

Eighteen by De Profundis (p. 15)

There they were, right next to each other, nestled on opposite pages like the best of friends. The name of Eddie’s poem would surely catch the attention of De Profundis, and if that didn’t, the reference in the poem surely would, if De Profundis would actually bother to read Eddie’s poem, of course.

– X –

Eddie would always remember the first time De Profundis name checked him in one of their poems. He’d been idly flicking through the Journal, not having been enticed by the title of his self-proclaimed rivals offering, – The Sailor Who Fell From The Stars – and he’d decided to briefly scan the poem when a particular stanza caught his eye.

                      From the depths of vacuity

                      All I see are flowered curtains, thin and frayed,

                      Falling to within five inches of the sill.

                      Do you warrant better? I don’t know ….

A fist made of stone and poetry punched Eddie in the stomach. De Profundis used his words. De Profundis used his words, spat them back in his face, and then stamped on them for good measure.

This was, as far as Eddie was concerned, a declaration of war, and Eddie wasn’t about to surrender.

– X –

Void. by Mr Bleaney (1st Feb 2003)

… the winds are cold and so are you,

baseless insults, show yourself ….

Testify by De Profundis (11th March 2003)

… the winds grow tired of your howling, the void will spit you out ….

Everything by Mr Bleaney (23rd April 2003)

one day

you will bleed the words I

breathed into your skin

and there will be no bandage

and you will rot in a pool of naïve

sincerity you never deserved

sssssstutter by De Profundis (15th May 2003)

… my fuh-fuh-friend, don’t bluh-bluh-bleed on the carpet,

Your wuh-words will stain …

I am not your friend by Mr Bleaney (4th June 2003)

See above.

“Eddie,” Ben sighed, the crackle of the phone signal obscuring his words somewhat, “That last submission wasn’t really a poem, was it”

“Who are you, Benjamin Hanscom, to tell me that that wasn’t a poem. You’re telling me that that doesn’t count as a post-structuralist, postmodernist attempt to subvert the reader’s expectations about what poetry actually is and force them to look up for answers? Up to the title, perhaps? You need to broaden your horizons, Sir”

“Eddie.”

“Yes, yes, fine. I know it was a bullshit excuse for a poem, but you didn’t have to publish it!” Eddie said, voice verging on shrill.

Ben sighed. “Yes I did. You would have accused me of ‘not appreciating your art’ if I didn’t. And, at any rate, I heard from De Profundis a few days before”

“… You did?”

“Yes. He asked if you’d sent in a response to stutter”

“Ssssstutter,” Eddie corrected, causing Ben to laugh. “Why did he want to know?”

“Ask him yourself”

Eddie rolled his eyes, but, upon realising that Ben couldn’t see him roll his eyes over the phone, Eddie just groaned.

“I’ve got to go, I’m meeting Rich at Coffee Hoppers in 10”

“Enjoy your date”

“Thanks – wait, I mean, it’s not a date! Ben! It’s not a –”

Ben had already hung up.

– X –

When Eddie arrived at the warm, hazily lit coffee shop, Richie was already there, sat on one of the plush, squishy sofas in the corner with two steaming mugs sat in front of him on the table.

“Hey, Rich. What do I owe you?” Eddie said, sitting down next to Richie.

“Naw, I got you, Eds. It’s my pleasure to keep you in your disgustingly sweet coffee-but-not-really drinks,” Richie said, batting his eyelashes at Eddie.

Although it had no reason to be, the atmosphere was charged. They were sat close together, knees knocking every time one of them shifted, but this was no unusual thing. They often sat close together, if not on top of each other, Richie’s legs sprawled across Eddie’s lap, or Eddie perched on the end of Richie’s knees when they were in Bill’s beaten up old truck. No, the unusual thing about this particular coffee date, was the fact that as soon as Eddie sat down, Richie grabbed his hand.

“So,” Richie started, “the new volume of Ben’s journal comes out tomorrow”

“Does it?”

“Yup. Have you been keeping up with it?”

“Sort of, not really, I don’t know. Have you seen the new adaptation they’re doing of that Stephen King book? It looks pretty good, Bill said’ he’d go see it with me, I know that –”

“Ah, yeah yeah, I’ve seen the advert. It looks … fine. Why’re you going with Big Bill, though?”

Eddie blinked.

“Because … he likes films like that?”

“So do I,” Richie huffed, knitting his eyebrows in a way that should look petulant but instead just looks endearing.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, Oh”

“Do you, I mean – you don’t have to, but would you like –”

“Eddie Spaghetti, it would be an honour to escort you to the movies to get our scream on”

“Our scream on?” Eddie said faintly, and Richie laughed.

“Y’know, like, screaming at horror movies. Get your mind out of the gutter, you dirty bird”

Well before Eddie was ready to let Richie go, the clock struck four in the afternoon, and Richie had to leave to pick up his shift at the local video store.

“I’ll ring you about arranging our movie date, Eds,” Richie said, wriggling into his jacket and smoothing his hair down.

Eddie laughed. “Yeah, yeah, our date”

“Um. Yeah? Like, holding hands in the dark, I’ll buy the popcorn if you buy the tickets, type thing?”

“Oh, like, a real real date?”

“I mean – I thought that much was obvious, Eds”

“Uh – I guess it is now. I’ll ring you, or you ring me – you ring me, yeah, I’ll wait for your call, or I’ll – yeah. Date”

“You’re ridiculous, Spaghetti head”

And with that, Richie was planting a kiss on the top of Eddie’s head, before bustling out of the coffee shop and disappearing out of view.

On the table, lay a book. It was face down, and Eddie grabbed it, standing up with the intention of chasing after Richie, who had forgotten it, but he thought better of it. He’d give it back to Richie in their next Poetry and Experiment seminar, or on their … date. Whichever came first.

Eddie sat back down, and turned the book around to look at the cover.

                     De Profundis and Other Writings

                      Oscar Wilde

                      Penguin Classics

Huh.

There were several small pieces of paper sticking out of the book, and Eddie could see that the pieces were littered with the familiar scribbled scrawl of Richie’s writing. With curiosity getting the better of him, Eddie gently tugged a few of the pieces of paper out of the book.

The first piece had a few lines from a Keats poem scribbled on it,

Sweet, sweet is the greeting of eyes,

And sweet is the voice in its greeting,

When adieus have grown old and goodbyes

Fade away where old Time is retreating.  

The second had a stanza of a poem Eddie didn’t recognise written on it, but the last, the last one he did recognise. It was only a line, but it was a line he’d stared at for hours, trying to come up with a response, wracking his brain, willing his fingers.

the winds grow tired of your howling, the void will spit you out

Without even thinking, Eddie could name the poem, and the author.

De Profundis.

Could it … ?

The bell above the door of the coffee shop rang out, and Eddie’s head snapped up. Richie was walking back over to him, hair and coat damp with late winter rain. Eddie shoved the pieces of paper back into the book with trembling fingers.

“Sorry, Eds, forgot my,” Richie gestured at the book sat bereft on the table, before picking it up and tucking it into his messenger bag.

Eddie nodded wordlessly.

“Okay well, I really gotta run, so I’ll see you – later?”

Eddie nodded again, face contorted into a grimace that, try as he might, wouldn’t be chased off of his face. Richie left without another word, but shot glances at Eddie over his shoulder until he disappeared from view once more.

– X –

“You’re … early,” Bev said, swirling the straw around in her Bloody Mary.

“I know”

“Is Richie not with you?”

“Nope”

“Where is he?”

“How the fuck am I supposed to know?” Eddie snapped, regretting it immediately when Bev’s eyebrows shot up. “Sorry, I just – stressed. I have a lot of homework due”

“Hmmm,” Bev hummed, unconvinced, but her train of thought was interrupted by Richie’s arrival.

“Good afternoon, fellow human people!” He said, slotting into the booth next to Eddie.

“Hullo, Rich” Mike said, ignoring Richie’s request for a fist bump in favour of continuing to absently scritch a hand through Stan’s hair.

“Lame,” Richie shot back, before turning to Eddie. “I’ve looked at the showing times for the movie, can you do Friday?”

“Uh, no. I’ve got – homework”

“Sunday?”

“Homework”

“Next Tuesday?”

“Uh, homework,” Eddie supplied feebly, shrugging his shoulders.

“Oh, uh – okay. Maybe you could pick the date then? Let me know when you’re free?” Richie said, the timidity of his voice tugging at Eddie’s heart.

“Yeah, yeah – I’ll ring you”

The conversation ebbed and flowed for several hours, before Richie, drunk as a skunk, began to tap on his glass with a spoon covered in whipped cream.

“Attention! Ladies and germs, can I have your attention”

“Jesus Christ,” Stan said, rolling his eyes. “About to announce that you’re pregnant with Eddie’s child, finally?”

“What? Ew, gross. Not everyone shares your fondness for MPREG fanfiction, Stanley,” Richie said, earning a fork to the head for his trouble. “No, I have another announcement to make. I, Richard “Big Dick” Tozier, am a published poet”

Eddie’s stomach dropped to the floor.

“Yes, it’s true,” Richie continued, “I have been sending in work to Benny-boy’s little journal and he’s been publishing it! Fancy that, you all being in the presence of a celebrity”

“Hey, Rich! That’s pretty cool!” Mike said, reaching over the table to shake Richie’s hand.

“I thought you told me not to tell anyone?” Ben asked.

“Yeah, I didn’t want you telling anyone, but this is me telling everyone, so that’s different,” Richie said, sitting back down and he leant his head against Eddie’s shoulder.

“Are you proud of me, Eds?”

“Yes, very proud,” Eddie deadpanned, wringing his hands in his lap.

“I have a rival, you know. I’m Byron, and ‘Mr Bleaney,” Richie mocked, “‘Mr Bleaney’ is Polidori”

“Oh really?” Eddie said, trying to keep his voice as calm and even.

“Yup! He started it, taking the piss out of my pseudonym, when his is just as stupid. You said so yourself! That stupid Larkin poem. I know you like it, Eds, but I don’t. Too bleak. And his poetry,” Richie mock-retched, “God is it depressing. Not a single hopeful theme, would it kill the guy to use a happy metaphor for once? Even your poetry is less dull”

“My poetry?”

“Yup! You’re a much better writer than Mr Bleaney”

“Good to know,” Eddie replied sharply, but Richie was already distracted, talking to Ben about his latest submission.

After brunch, Eddie disappeared before Richie could stop him.

– X –

The first time Eddie realised he liked Richie in a more-than-friends sort of way, they’d been sitting in the back of Bill’s rusty old truck, on their way to the drive-in. It was the night before Halloween, and their local drive-in was showing back to back classic Zombie films into the early hours of the morning. Bill had bribed all of the Loser’s to go with him, with the promise of all-they-could eat popcorn, a promise Richie took as a challenge. They had been sat together in the truck bed, three blankets wrapped around their shoulders, huddled together for warmth. Richie had hooked an arm around Eddie’s shoulder and pulled him in, so that Eddie’s head was nestled neatly in the crook of Richie’s neck.

“I’ll keep you warm, Eds, don’t you worry. I won’t let you turn into an eds-icle”

“You’re jokes are so fuckin’ lame, Rich”

“You love them,” Richie had said confidently, eyes sparkling in the late October moonlight, and Eddie was sucker punched by the realisation that it wasn’t just Richie’s jokes that he loved.

– X –

Nearly a month later, someone knocked at Eddie’s door, a knock that was shortly followed by a muffled voice.

“Eddie?”

A pause.

“Eddie? I know you’re in there”

Another pause. Eddie held his breath.

“Eds, please”

Breath escaped Eddie’s lips without permission.

“Rich?” he called out from the safety of his blanket nest, voice hoarse from lack of use.

“Eddie”

Another pause.

Richie sighed audibly from behind the door. “Eddie, I can’t sleep.”

“Have you tried counting sheep?” Eddie said, and he shifted from the confines of his bed,  padded across the room with silent steps, and stood with his arm extended, palm flat against the wood of the door.

“I’m sorry,” Richie said, and Eddie pulled his hand back from the door, as if he’d been burnt.

“What?”

“I said I’m – I’m sorry”

“What for?”

“I’m not entirely sure, but I’m sure I did something that made you pull away from me like this, and whatever it was, I’m sorry”

The large, angry lump in Eddie’s throat refused to be swallowed.

“Richie, Rich, you haven’t – you haven’t done anything”

“Then why won’t you let me in?” Richie pleaded, voice cracking, and that was enough, enough of a catalyst to tug on Eddie’s poor, weary heart.

Eddie wrenched the door open, and Richie all but fell onto his chest.

“Rich, I’m the one who should be saying sorry, I’ve been an asshole”

“No you haven’t”

“Yes I have!”

“Well … maybe a tiny bit of an asshole. I just – I don’t get it”

Eddie shrugged, arms still wrapped loosely around Richie’s shoulders. “There isn’t really much to get, I’m just an asshole who doesn’t deserve friends like you, I guess”

Richie looked up, eyes shiny. “Friends?”

“Uh –” Eddie stammered, “I don’t know, Rich. You mess with my head, you know”

“You mess with mine too,” Richie said, and then they said nothing more, just stood in the middle of Eddie’s shitty little dorm room, and embraced.

When Eddie woke in the morning, Richie was gone. What lay in his place, next to Eddie’s head on the pillow, was a note.

          I’ll wait for you at Coffee Hoppers after class

          My bounty is as boundless as the sea,

          My love as deep; the more I give to thee,

          The move I have, for both are infinite.

          R x

As the piece of paper fluttered to the floor, Eddie knew what it was that he must do.

– X –

I Loved You First by Mr Bleaney (21st August 2003)

         I loved you first: but afterwards your love

Outsoaring mine, sang such a loftier song

As drowned the friendly cooings of my dove.

Which owes the other most? My love was long,

And yours one moment seemed to wax more strong;

I loved and guessed at you, you construed me

And loved me for what might or might not be –

Nay, weights and measures do us both a wrong.

          For verily love knows not ‘mine’ or ‘thine’;

With separate ‘I’ and ‘thou’ free love has done,

For one is both and both are one in love:

Rich love knows nought of ‘thine that is not mine;’

Both have the strength and both the length thereof,

Both of us, of the love which makes us one.

By Mr Bleaney / Eds.

– X –

Hammering on the door.

“EDDIE!”          

Silence.

“EDDIE! Seriously, open the fucking door!”

More hammering.

“Eddie! –”

The door opened and two bodies collide.

“How long have you –”

“I didn’t know how to tell you –”

“You write so beautifully –”

“I love you –”

“I love you –”

“Rich?”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up”

With a renewed boldness, Eddie leant in and pressed his lips to Richie’s, and, for the first time, they wrote poetry together.

[diazactually]

get to know you meme

yay! i'll never miss an opportunity to overshare information about myself on the internet so let's do it

thanks for tagging me @stellarm!! 💕

rules: tag 5 people you wish to get to know better

top 3 ship: buddie (9-1-1), thiam (teen wolf) & i honestly dunno so i'll take the ones the people i tag say as suggestions so i can find some new ships that can overtake my life

last song you've listened to: before you go by lewis capaldi (i stan this incredibly talented man❤️)

last movie you've watched: if series count then it was 911 lone star because i forced asked my best friend nicely to watch it with me but if it has to be a movie then harry potter 5 if i remember correctly (so 🙌🏼 @stellarm)

currently reading: buddie fanfiction because yes (@maysgrant's four a.m. to be specific which you can read here hardcore recommend!!)

the food you're craving right now: i'll be honest with you, i'd commit crime for some reese's right about now

i'm tagging these awesome people:

my eddie @buckleydiazs

my loving mothers @buckiaz @buckleysbabe

and also @little-loser-x @youcanhavemybackanyday and @ediediaz whom i haven't interacted much yet besides stalking but i love to see them on my feed and i am interesting in getting to know them!!

(yes i know that's not 5 people i never claimed being able to count)

also no pressure! only do it you feel like it💕