#comes home. sees richie on the couch. asks richie to marry him. not even on his knees

[wolftozier]

I am of the opinion that richie tozier has probably had his ideal marriage proposal to eddie planned out since at least high school. he's got a speech. he has a ring. he's booked and cancelled reservations at a nice restaurant ten or twelve times. he's just waiting for the perfect time. which never comes bc eddie beats him to it

[ameliawarnerr]

Evanescent

(She was the Evanescent of his life— there and gone.)

Part 7

(Part 6: here.)

Warning: Slightly strong language.

(Dual Pov Chapter)

Amelia’s (MC) Pov

I walk until I’m in their sight. Once I’m not, I run.

I am not even sure if I am scrambling toward the car. My eyes are shut, my hands are turned to fists. Tears threaten to fall from my eyes but they don't. How could they? I didn't even cry when my mother died. Mother died. Because of me.

It was the worst probable time when I got entangled with Duskwood. My mom had only passed away. But I got so intrigued, so desperate to avoid reality. It did work for some time. But it's over now.

It's all over now, isn't it? I tried everything. I changed my number, shut down all my social media accounts, left my job, and started a new life. Far away from home, away from the guilt. But now Alex is here. He is here and he knows everything. He’ll take me away from here. I'll be forced to face them. Their faces, their words of disappointment.

I find the car, I open the door and stand there motionless. I glimpse at my hand which holds the keys. I have a car, maybe I should just run away. Everyone recently found Hannah, and they have Richy’s betrayal to get over— no one will bother about me. And Jake—

Jake. I collapse in the seat remembering the earlier image of his face. The way his eyes pierced through me. His desperation to get me away from Alex. Him holding my hand. Despite my efforts to make us look like friends, he was calm. But I know he noticed it. I hated myself at that moment. I hated when I thought it would only complicate things if my family and Alex were to know about Jake so I moved away from him. I could see the hurt and irritation in his eyes so I tried hard to not look at him at all. When he dragged me away from Alex, I expected him to ask me questions about Alex or my behavior. But he was concerned about me. He truly evidently cares for me. But how am I ever going to tell him that I am being arranged to marry Alex? How will I tell him that I have just as much mess to deal with as him? I told him, I'd wait for him. But will he? After all those lies I've fed him, will he wait for me?

I unlock the phone and stare at the message my sister sent me yesterday. I have no idea how she has my number.

Rose: Dad has fixed your marriage with Alex. Alex is coming to get you. Please come back.

When she told me that Alex is coming to get me, I thought she meant about my place. I never thought Alex would come here in Duskwood. I was so close to Alex when I used to live in Boston, three years ago but we drifted apart after I shifted for my job. It was all good— the ideal life I wanted to live. I had a job, a few friends, a good apartment, and I was happy, above all. And last month, I finally had all the money I needed to have a drama institute of my own. But then one month back, Rose called me. She told me that mom needed to get a surgery done. My mom’s heart had a hole in it ever since she was born. It wasn't serious until—

“The money is huge. Dad has some. I’m giving my three months saving too.” My breath denied to leave. “It’s still not enough, Amelia. How much can you send?”

I threw myself on the couch, staring outside the huge window. “This month?”

“The doctor suggested to get it done in a span of two months. We don't want to risk anything. We want to do it as soon as possible.”

“I can't give you any money this month. I have none.” I lied. “If the doctor adviced two months, then I guess it will be fine if we do it in the starting of the next month. I'll have a good money then.”

“Can’t you get that sum of money a little early?” I dug my nails in my bare legs.

“I...can't. I'm sorry.” I wince seeing the blood on my skin and my nails.

“Okay. I'll see what I can do. Do you want to talk to Mom? She's missing you.”

Grabbing the cushion tightly, I replied, “I can't— I'm— I need to get home first.” I seriously couldn't bring myself to talk to her for a whole different reason.

One week after that, I had seventeen missed calls. And twenty three texts. I checked my sister’s text first.

Rose: Mom isn't with us anymore. The funeral is tomorrow. Come, please. I can't handle this alone.

Then—

Tears make my vision blurry. “Why wouldn't you just fall?” I complain as I wipe them off. I need to talk to Alex. But first I need to tell Jake. My train of thought stops at him again. He'll probably think I am selfish after that. He'll probably love me less or not at all. I wouldn't blame him— I can't blame him.

When Jake was in the mine and I didn't hear from him, I was so so so scared that I'll lose yet another person because of me. And maybe I would have tried to forget about him just like I did to my mother. But I never want to forget him.

But I can't face him either right now. He already knows something is wrong. And seeing my current face, he’ll want me to tell him and when I wouldn't be able to, he’ll blame himself. I don't want him to blame himself for my incompetence.

I start the car. I need an escape. I have no idea where I am going as I drive aimlessly. I’ll come back. For Jake. I promise myself. I owe him.

I...just need time.

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

Jake's Pov

I just need time. To deal with this. To make sense of this information. Why would she blame herself for her mother’s death? She had been away from home when that happened. She's evidently in denial. For whatever reason she blames herself, I want to tell her otherwise. I’ll tell her it was not her fault until she believes it. For that, I need her.

I cannot go on a second without seeing her and that concludes why I raise my voice at particularly no one when Dan says the car isn't here. “What?”

I turn around and I immediately call her. Disappointed, I turn back wondering to myself, “Why’s her phone busy—”

My words die in my throat. Alex has his phone against his ear. “What makes you think she’d pick up your call?” I wonder out loud, pacing towards him. Dan comes in between us.

Dan’s physically closer to me than Alex so only I hear him when he says, “Jake, honey, we already got a situation. We don't wanna create another.” He sings it urgently while keeping an eye on Alex.

Alex answers my question. “Most probably, I am the reason she ran away in the first place. So I believe it's me who should be talking her out of any stupid act she's up to.”

“Jake, honey—”

“Shut up, Dan.”

“Hey! It's my car she took!”

“Do you care about the car or her?”

“Both are equally involved in my life—”

“Can both of you shut the fuck up?” Alex stops our futile argument.

“Who the fuck are you to tell us to shut the fuck up? It's a private matter.” Dan targets him now.

Alex says, “A person whose eardrums are being harmed because—”

I walk away as Alex falls prey to Dan’s stupidly provoking arguments. I try Amelia’s number again. This time, it rings. But she doesn't answer.

Fuck it, I need a computer.

“Dan!” I call out to Dan who's still busy arguing with Alex. He shakes his hand at Alex as if Alex said something too stupid for Dan to comprehend and walks towards me. Alex follows him though no one asked him to come.

When he is near enough, I speak, “Amelia isn't answering her phone. I need to trace her location. In other words—”

“You need a nice ass computer. Got it. Follow me.” Dan says and gestures me to follow him.

Alex tags along when— again, no one asked him. He hurries towards me. “You can hack?”

“How else did you think I found out your name?” And some extra information.

“I thought it was Truecaller.”

I halt. “Truecaller? Is it legal?” I ask him.

“Yes.”

I start pacing again. “That concludes why I never heard of it. I don't rely on legal sites anymore.”

Once we’ve reached the place Dan mentioned on the way, I sit down in front of the computer, motionless. Three pair of eyes on me.

I clear my throat. I look at Dan who's a little late to understand but finally gets my hesitance. He suddenly laughs out loud, putting a hand on the older person who lended us the computer of his shop. He stands directly behind me and I can't do anything when's he standing on my head.

“He needs to talk to his girlfriend. He’s shy.” Dan slowly sends him away and comes back to take the owner’s spot over my head.

I connect my phone to the computer, and try to pin point her location with the help of her phone. I am glad she hasn't turned off her phone. The map of Duskwood isn't that complex or huge, it takes a few minutes for me to know her exact location. She's near that plain areas where I gave her and Lilly a clue. I’m surprised she remembers it.

I lean back to the chair. “I know where she is. How do we get there? Do you know anyone who can lend us their car?” I ask Dan.

“I can.” Alex chimes in.

Dan and I slowly turn our heads towards him. I eye him. “You wanted me to give you a ride thirty minutes ago.” I fold my arms at my chest.

“I was trying to get close to her again.” He reasons.

I raise my eyebrow at him. “Again?”

“We were close when she used to live in Boston. I need that bond back to take her home.” He explains.

I wanted to tell him that he’s getting neither of it back. Neither their bond nor her.

Instead, I stand up. I don't wish to waste any time now that I finally know where she is. I never wanted Alex to come with us but I guess I can't kick him out of his own car.

After twenty minutes of driving, we finally spot Dan’s car. My face is expressionless as Dan beams about the car being alright. Alex stop the car and I get out but lean back. “Stay here.” I tell both of them, glaring especially at Alex.

There are no lights here. I switch on the flashlight of my phone and as I walk a few steps, I spot another flashlight. My eyes travel to the hands of the person, then to the face.

My chest rises and falls in relief. She initially looks shocked but then she relaxes. Then sadness creeps to her face and I frown. As I move towards her, her hand goes to her side, the flashlight now focussing on the road.

She speaks first. “I know. I just needed some time to—”

She's cut off by my lips on hers. I kiss her slow, and passionately. My hand around her neck caresses her skin. I don't ever want to let go but I pull back, slightly.

“If you need some time then you need to fucking tell me before going in search of it in the middle of nowhere.” She has to look up to meet my gaze. At least, she's not avoiding looking at me like earlier. My hand goes to her cheek. I say, softer than before, “Why wouldn't tell you me?” I am not talking just about her running away. And she realises it too. “Did you assume I'd judge you? Or it will change anything?” I'm in no position to judge her.

“No. Jake— I— how did you get here?” A sense of disappointment tackles me as she tries to change the subject. I know she already is aware of the answer but I'll entertain her.

“I traced your phone.” I simply say.

“Oh.” She looks down at her phone.

I move my hand from her cheek to her chin and force her to look at me. “The only thing I am upset about is that you came here without telling me. I’m not upset about the things you kept from me. I understand that. For a while, I did that too. And I am not upset that you pretended to be happy or about your arranged marriage with Alex.”

Realisation hits me. She doesn't know about the arranged marriage. If she did, she would have told me. Keeping everything from me, she would have at least told me if her family arranged her with some guy. She would have told me. That's something I expect her to tell me.

But the previous disappointment only rises as I see no change of expression on her face. No shock.

I take a step back from her.

“You knew.”

I feel my expectations, reality, and my hopes for an unconditional love laughing at me.

Part 8

-------------------------------------

Heyyyyy

Lemme know your thoughts in the replies!

Also, there's a huge (sort of) difference in the likes of my first few chapters and the recent ones. Does that mean my fic is flopping? Should I still continue? ( I really want to)

This is my first fic and I have no experience about these things.

Anyways

Love y’all !

Enjoy ~~~

[tinyarmedtrex]

Reddie, fluff, 16?

“Would you like to stay?” 

It had been three weeks since Derry 2.0: The re-Derrying. Three weeks since the trauma and terror that happened in the sewers. Three weeks since they’d fought the clown and had nearly died. Three weeks since dragging Eddie out- thank god Stan had showed up when he did- and three weeks since Eddie entered a coma.

It was two weeks since Eddie had woken up, surprising Richie and the others by demanding water and the time. Two weeks since Myra had shown up and whisked Eddie away, saying that her husband deserved only the best medical care. She’d left without even introducing herself- not that any of them needed an introduction. It was obvious who she was- Sonia reincarnated. After Eddie was gone no one had a reason to stay in Derry. Slowly, everyone had gone back home, promising to stay in contact.

And, so far, they had. The group exchanged constant calls and text messages. They had been doing group zoom calls every Wednesday and they were the highlight of Richie’s week, seeing everyone alive and laughing.

In all forms of communication Eddie was the quietest, usually just replying with an emoji or one word answers. At least he was there, responding. Richie tried to make that be enough, to know that Eddie was breathing.

The longest text Richie gotten from him had been after he came out to the group. Everyone was amazing and supportive and Eddie had sent him a long, private text, telling Richie how proud he was and how he hoped that it would improve Richie’s shitty comedy routine. He had resisted the urge to frame his screenshot of the text. 

At first Richie had tried to call Eddie but every time Myra answered and told him that Eddie was in no state to talk. Richie tried not to let it sting, she was Eddie’s spouse after all, she had more rights than him. But still, it sucked. Richie wanted to hear Eddie’s voice, to listen to him complain or to make him laugh. He couldn’t help it. Ever since his memory had come back Eddie had been on his mind 24/7. It was an endless loop of memories and maybes, things that had happened and things that could have happened if only Richie had the balls to tell Eddie how he felt. 

It probably wouldn’t have mattered. Eddie was married and, presumably, straight. But maybe if Richie had been rejected he could start to move on, give up the ghost of his first love. 

Hating himself, Richie picked up his phone. He’d missed a slew of texts from the others but skipped them for now, instead pressing Eddie’s number. It rang for a few seconds before going to voicemail. He listened to Eddie’s clipped and professional voice asking him to leave a detailed message before hanging up and falling back on his couch. He knew that he should order something for dinner, or at least reheat leftovers. 

He had just pulled himself off the couch when his doorbell rang. Richie frowned, trying to remember if he was expecting someone. He walked to the door and flung it open, gaping at the person behind it. 

“Eds?”

“Richie I- shit- I know this is out of nowhere- and I haven’t talk to you in weeks but I- I left Myra. I left her. I can’t do it anymore. I don’t even like women! Yea, I’m gay too- that took me all of a day to figure out. Made a lot of my life make a lot more sense honestly-

“I know this is sudden but fuck, I didn’t know where else to go. I’ve missed you so much. The others too but you the most. I needed to see you. I can stay in a hotel though, I know how much unexpected guests suck. Myra’s sister would always drop by and stay for a week. I hated it.  She smelled like cat litter. Can you imagine? It was awful.” 

Eddie’s nose wrinkled as he finally took a breath, staring up at Richie. “You can tell me to leave. I’ll go. I shouldn’t have come. What the fuck was I thinking? You probably have a date or like- a celebrity here. You don’t want your weirdo friend from middle school staying here. I’ll go.”

Eddie turned, still muttering to himself. Richie’s hand shot out and grabbed Eddie’s arm. Slowly, Eddie turned to look at him. “Please don’t make fun of me now Richie. I just got off a dirty plane. I can’t handle it. I need a shower so badly. The person next to me had fish. Fish!”

Richie shook his head. He’d tease Eddie later but for now there was only one thing he wanted to say. 

“Would you like to stay?”

[lu-undy]

Un-alone, Chapter 17

Here it is!

“So, how’s your uncle?”

“Not too bad. I was tellin’ the others that he probably could come but the physio’s insisting for him to not rush things. At his age, stuff takes a real amount of time to heal up.” Mundy took a sip of his drink while Larry returned to one of the couches. Richie went to the other end of the counter, tending to other customers. That left Mundy and Mark alone. 

“How long before you think he’ll be alright?”

“Physio reckons it’s gonna be an extra month, maybe a month and a half.”

“Ah, I see.”

“Why? Does he owe you money or somethin’?” Mundy chuckled.

“No, I just miss talkin’ to him. He’s a cool guy.”

“Could still visit him at home. I'm sure he’ll be happy to see some people.” Mundy said, without thinking too much.

“You think so?”

“Yeah. I mean…”

“If you don’t wanna, it’s fine.” Mark answered, and now for Mundy, it was clear. Mark was not asking to visit his uncle as much as he was scouting Mundy’s heart. As one would dip his toe in the water of a calm lake to measure its temperature, Mark was testing Mundy’s mood, where he stood with respect to him.

“Wanna play some darts?” The blonde asked. 

“Sure.”

Better leave it blurry, Mundy thought. There was no point anyway… Or was there? 

Both men stood a few metres away from the target and Mark threw his first dart. 

“Ha, not bad, eh?” He proudly said. 

“Yeah, true.” Mundy closed one eye and took aim. He looked at the target and saw the blurry dart in front of his face. “Hm!” He threw it.

“You gotta be kiddin’ me…!” Mark laughed and shook his head. “A bullseye? on the first try?”

“Well, if there’s somethin’ I can do, it’s aim.” Mundy said and took a step away for Mark to replace him in front of the target.

“Oh, that I know, Aussie.” Mark threw the second dart. “Ha! I’m gettin’ closer, man!”

Mundy smiled under his hat. He took Mark’s place and shot again. 

“What?! How d’you do it?!”

“Told ya.” Mundy’s raspy voice chuckled through his words. “I can aim.” He raised intense eyes to Mark. The American looked left and right. 

“Wanna get harder targets?”

“Pff, Mark-”

“It’s ok if you don’t like the challenge, eh.” The blonde quipped. “I’ll just let you win and assume it’s your luck.”

“Told you, Mark, I’m a hunter, gimme darts, arrows, a rifle, anything, and I can aim with it.”

“I'm a hunter too.”

“Are ya now? Where’s your game then?”

“Maybe…” Mark looked left and right. He took a step towards Mundy, leaving hardly a few inches between them. “... I need a few lessons from someone who's clearly better than me, and a little bit older, huh?”

“You could ask yer Dad.”

Mark's head swooshed to Larry on the couch. 

“He’s too busy right now, I wouldn’t want to bother him while he plays God knows what with his friends.”

“So you prefer to bother me?” Mundy answered and the blonde raised lustful eyes to him. Ha, Mundy had never been too good at telling the hints, seeing the signals, but the way that Mark stared at him with his hazel eyes was louder than sirens.

“Yeah.” Mark blinked delicately, or maybe he fluttered his eyes slightly. “So? Is your van free for another lil’ trip?”

Mundy pondered for a split second. His head was showing him wild pictures. Was it worth it? Would he end up living in New Mexico with Mark? Would he introduce him to his parents? Nah, he wouldn’t. Mark was way too hot-headed, Mundy did not really like that. But…

But his guts screamed at him. It had been a while since anyone had hit on him, and his ego was more than pleased with it all. The colder Mundy looked at Mark, the colder he behaved with him, the harder the young American clung to him. Gosh, Mundy loved the feeling, looking down in his eyes and seeing how much the other wanted him… When was the last time that it happened? Far too long.

“Alright.”

THe night was as dark as the last time that it had happened and the privacy of the van wasn’t enough for Mundy. He raced through the dry and golden desert of New Mexico, which now was as deep as the night could be. The Moon wasn’t there.

“Oh, yeah, M-Mundy… Take me - arh!”

The Aussie shut his head and listened to his body, to his blood pumping everywhere, to this feeling of sharing something with someone, doing something exceptionally not alone. Well, yeah, he could just lay there in his bed and do it with his hand. But nah, he was there with someone. And as Mundy looked under him at the man laying on his stomach, he felt everything mix within him. As the thrusts of his hips resounded in the slapping of his sweating skin against Mark’s, as the groans of the blonde filled him, as the golden streaks of sweat raked Marks skin under the old, yellow light in the van, Mundy realised he heard nothing and saw nothing either. 

Only his thoughts were there. The same thoughts he had when he was alone. Was that person the right one? Did he like them? Was there something in his heart that would push him to do the unthinkable for that person? Would he drop hunting for them? Would he drop hunting beasts for them? Would he drop hunting… men? Would Mark fill the part of himself that unbearably itched for decades now? Could Mundy let that itch irritate him and burn him instead of deafening it as best as he could with one-night stands? 

What did his heart think? Heart? Heart? Is there anything there for Mark and me or…? 

Ah, yeah, well… 

“Mundy, I’m gonna-I’m gonna… Arh!”

Mundy almost stopped thrusting as he rose back from his daydream. The blonde had somehow risen to his knees and elbows, and as Mundy recovered his ability to see, he realised that Mark had been frantically using his hand on himself until, well, the end. And it pulled the Aussie to finish too. 

“Oh, man… It was even better than last time…” Mark concluded as he rolled on his back.

Mundy’s lips pursed into a smile, but the voice inside him still banged at his heart’s door. 

Heart? Heart! Tell me! You can’t just not answer! C’mon! Tell me if I can hope for something with this bloke? Yes or no?! How hard can it be?!

He banged again and again, as both him and Mark cleaned up and lay down to sleep, this time together, in the narrow bunk inside the van. 

Heart?

-- A few weeks later --

It had become a habit. Mundy would meet with Mark and spend his nights with him, without either of them questioning it. And it took less and less for Mark to ask him. As of late, a simple nod of the head towards the pub’s main door sufficed to signal to Mundy that the American was in the mood.

Mundy indulged every time. Why? Because it never felt bad to have someone to do it with rather than his own hand, to be blunt. But of course, the more they met, the more Mundy wondered. And the more he wondered, the more he harassed his own heart and his head for an answer, because quite frankly, if he asked what he had below the belt, his relationship with Mark could last forever… 

During his days, Mundy became more familiar with the geography of the city and the overall State of New Mexico. He appreciated dearly the patch of desert not too far from his Uncle’s and spent time there when he wanted a corner of solace, an outer haven. And he spent his time there alone, as always. Not that he would fight anyone who would like to join him, but no one ever did want to come along. 

Not even Mark.

Mundy had asked him one day. 

“D’you wanna stay here tomorrow mornin’?”

Mark was half asleep, naked next to the Aussie in his warm van. 

“Nah…” 

“You sure?”

“What would we do here in the middle of nowhere?” The American spoke half into the pillow.

“We could spend the day huntin’, under the sun, just you and me. We’d be far from people and uh, y’know, just enjoyin’ ourselves.”

Mark chuckled in the pillow. 

“You’re a funny guy, Mundy… See ya tomorrow.”

The Aussie thought about that slice of conversation again and again, it was playing on loop in his mind as if it had been recorded on a broken disc. Was Mark just too tired to have a chat after their usual meeting? Or did he genuinely laugh at Mundy’s suggestion?

The Aussie sighed. In the silence of his lonely van, he thought about it. Hold on. Mundy may not know Mark’s intentions but he knew how he behaved. The American would always ask to be cleaned, then roll to his side and sleep. The only thing Mundy would hear from him was sometimes praise of his performance of the day, and a “Night, night.”. Well, then maybe he did not really laugh at him…?

The Aussie finally decided to exit his van. He had been parked in front of the pub for a long enough while, just lost in thought. He needed a distraction, and a beer would surely-

“Hey, Aussie.”

Mundy gasped. 

“Oh, hey, Mark. Sorry, I didn’t see ya.”

“No worries.” The blonde chuckled. “You came here early today.”

“So did you.” Mundy answered. 

“I’m just playin’ the taxi driver for my Dad. He wanted to have a chat with Richie to organise the next big party here. Samantha’s gettin’ married with Jerry.”

“Oh, alright, congrats to them then, eh…?”

“Yup.” Mark nodded. “But what're you doin’ here this early?”

“I just wanted a beer or somethin’.”

“Mind if I tag along?”

“Sure.”

Both entered the bar and got served quickly. It was too early to be really busy, although a few patrons were enjoying their lunch there. 

“So, uhm, Mark…?”

“Yeah?”

“D’you uh… Would you like to maybe spend some time in the desert?” Mundy asked with his eyes down on his beer. Mark laughed. 

“Again with the desert stuff? You like it more than lizards do!”

Mundy smiled. 

“Yeah but, I mean, it’s nice out there. Nice and calm. We could go for a bit of hunting, eat what we catch.”

“Pfff, and then what? Grill under the sun for some wild thing to make us their dinner? Nah, Mundy… You go and get roasted if you want, I like it better in the shade.”

Mundy frowned slightly.

“Right, then uh… What about somethin' else?”

“Like what? You’re not tryin’ to take me out on a date, are ya?”

“N-No, nah, I'm not the date kind of guy…” Mundy shook his head. “I just… Gets quite lonely out there, just lookin' for some company, and uh… You’re a hunter too so I thought that uh…”

“Well, it’s my father who’s big on the whole hunting thing. I follow him sometimes when I’m bored but I’m not huge on it.” Mark took a gulp of his fresh beer and Mundy’s eyes dropped to the floor.

“So you don’t wanna hang out with me sometime?”

“I think we’re good the way we are.” Mark answered. “Why change it?”

Mundy sighed. He looked at his beer and he didn’t want any of it anymore. 

“Right.” The Aussie took off and left the bar, his pint still almost completely full.

“Mundy?”

He turned back to Mark with a hand on the pub’s front door still. 

“What?”

“You angry at me?”

“No.”

“What? What’s this mean then? You just leave and you haven’t finished your beer?”

Mundy sighed and looked left and right. The last thing he wanted was his private life and his interest in men exposed to people who knew Phil very well. He entered back and went to Mark. 

“Listen, if you're just with me for the nights, I’m not in anymore.”

The bluntness with which he spoke shocked Mundy himself. 

“I thought you liked it better that way?”

“No-Yeah, I don’t know and it doesn’t matter.” He spoke between gritted teeth. 

“So much for tryin’ to make me believe you're not mad…” Mark said with a scoff. “If you don’t know what you want, I can’t answer you, Mundy.”

“Alright, then. Here’s what I’d like to know, Mark.” Mundy removed his hat and slammed it on the counter. “Are you just with me for the nights?”

“I mean, that’s what we’ve been doin’ and I-”

“Answer me.” Mundy’s fierce glare made Mark gulp down audibly before he frowned. 

“Yeah, guess I am.” The American finally admitted. 

“D’you wanna go on like this or d'you wanna…?”

“Do I wanna what?” Mark frowned, now he was as mad as Mundy. 

“I don't know!” The Aussie answered. “Maybe we could do stuff together instead of just using each other like that?”

“And what’s wrong with that?” Mark asked. 

“Nothin’!” Mundy got his face closer to the American’s. “I just don’t like bein’ used, is all.”

“For someone who doesn’t like it and who’s a grown up man, you never said no, you never even raised the concern and you were the one fuckin’ me.” Mark spoke between gritted teeth for his shouts to be muffled into hard whispers. “You were the one to open your van, you were the one to get me out of my clothes, and you were the one to put it in me! Now if you didn’t want any of that, you never even gave me a clue about it! How could I have known?!”

Mundy sighed. 

“Look, I don’t know, I just… I can't go on like this.” Mundy answered and spun on his heels to leave again.

“Alright then, go back to spendin’ your days alone in the desert, see if that does you any good!”

Mundy stopped sharp. 

“What did you just say about me?” He said, slowly, and growling menacingly.

“I said: go back to the desert you like so much, I bet you’ll feel better there.” Mark repeated. 

“Pray that I never find you again, Mark.” Mundy pulled the hat down on his eyes and left.

“Or what, huh? What're you gonna do, huh? Hunt me down like I’m a deer?!” This time, Mark had raised his voice, but as he did, Mundy left and was already outside. 

The Aussie slipped in his van and drove back home. No. He needed the desert. He shifted gears to reverse. 

“Mundy! Mundy, wait!”

The Aussie  almost didn’t hear the voice calling for him. Larry came running to the van and banged the door on Mundy’s side. 

“Mundy, hold on!”

The Aussie lowered the window, his face as dark as his boiling rage made it. The shy Mundy within him wanted to blush. After all, Larry was Mark’s father. 

“Your mum’s called here, they’re asking you to go back home.”

Mundy’s eyebrows jumped and his face brightened, as if the storm raging within him a second ago had been pushed by the sun.

“Oh, uh, ok, thanks, Larry.”

“Pleasure, son, see ya!”

Mundy nodded and drove off. It took him the usual fifteen-ish minutes to reach back home. 

“Mum? You wanted to see me?” Mundy said as he entered. “Oh? What’s all that?” As he had pushed the door and entered, Mundy’s feet bumped on wicker bags. That one had towels at the top, oh, there was a cool box there. 

“Yeah, Micky, come in and go help your Uncle, will ya?”

“Sure… What’s with all the bags?” The Aussie entered the kitchen to find his mother making sandwiches. 

“We had a chat with your Uncle today. They say the weather’s gonna be real hot and sunny for the next week at least so we decided to go to the beach for a few days.”

“Oh…” Mundy’s eyebrows jumped out of surprise. “Alright, sure. You said Uncle Phil needed my help?”

“Yeah, he’s packing his stuff. I already dealt with your things and I assume you have some swimming shorts in your van, haven’t you?”

“Yeah, I have.”

“Then it’s all good. I’ll drive his car and you get your van with Marty next to you, yeah?”

“Works for me.” MUndy nodded with a smile.

“Perfect, now go before he goes mad. I’ve been hearing him grumble to himself…!”

“Sure, thanks, Mum.” Mundy came to leave a kiss on his Mum’s cheek. 

“No worries, baby.”

About an hour later, everything had been loaded into the van and the car, and Marty happily joined Mundy in his van, on the passenger’s seat. 

“How long is it till we get there?” Mundy asked.

“We’ll have to drive through the state and then through more or less the entirety of Texas to get to the sea.” Philip answered. “But if you ask me, better Texas than California!”

“Alright, you know your business, UNcle Phil.”

“It’s a twelve hour drive but of course, we’ll make a lot of stops and we’ll sleep on the way there. I know a few good places along the way. Used to make the trip with some colleagues at work once a year at least in summer.”

“Wow, twelve hours… I don’t think I’ve ever driven for that long.” Mundy answered. 

“It’s fine, son, we won’t do them all in one bite, eh?”

“I know, I know.. Still…! Right, let’s get started then.”

“You’ll just have to follow your mum, I’ll be with her to guide her.”

“Ok, thanks Uncle Phil.”

“Thank you, son.”

Mundy climbed in the van, on the driver’s seat. As he did so, Marty who was sitting on the passenger’s seat started wagging his tail.

“Hey, Marty, ready for the journey?”

The dog leaned into Mundy’s hand to enjoy some good head scratching. 

“Right, gimme a paw then, eh?”

The dog obeyed.

“That’s a good boy right there, good puppy. Right, Mum’s starin’, you sit and be a good boy while I drive, yeah?”

[l8rhader]

DIRECTOR'S COMMENTARY ON: Your favorite pop culture reference in any of your works you don't think anyone got?

Ooooh I love this question! I have a couple, though.

Instead, Richie found himself staring at the TV until Saturday Night Live came on.  Knowing that the pretty blonde girl from ...Married With Children was hosting, he’d left it on, hoping for anything to take his mind off of everything else.  As he drifted off, to the soft jazz sounds of the goodnights, he had a very strange but pleasant dream of himself and Eddie packing it all in and moving through the country in a van.  Weird.

Sometimes, I put pop culture references in to use as a specific timestamp for my fics. So, this one, specifically, dates this moment in the fic as May 8, 1993. It's helpful because it does give you a good benchmark for the passage of time. [You Can Change Right Next To Me, Chapter 8]

ALSO, because I do write a lot of aus, especially movie/music inspired crossovers, sometimes, I'll have them mention going to a movie or whatever and use it as a plot device because it's like, you know what, my mental health cannot have me coming up with a whole ass My Girl AU because "He can't see without his glasses on! Put his glasses on!" but you know what I can do? Work it in as an innocent first date for them and have them come out of the movie theatre like what the fuck that's not a funny movie!!

“He was allergic to bees,” the dad answered.  And chocolate.  And cashews. And cats.  And ragweed. And soy. And Penicillin.  The mental list in Richie’s mind started to roll and he shook it away.  It was just a movie. Just a movie.  The little boy wasn't Eddie, despite the slight similarities and his own panic.

The little girl’s brow furrowed.  “He’s okay, isn’t he?”

Eddie pressed his face into Richie’s chest.  He couldn’t watch. “There were just too many of them.” Eddie was nearly killed.   In the back of his mind, Richie was sucked back to the summer of 1989, the rotten, crumbling floorboards of that fucking house on Neibolt street beneath him, trying his best to get Eddie out.  If he couldn’t get him out, he was going down fighting because if Eddie wasn’t leaving that house alive, neither was Richie. He’d begged for Eddie to look at him because he couldn’t imagine the last thing Eddie saw being Pennywise.  He wouldn’t let that happen. Fighting with Bill on the street that day felt like the one thing that had to happen. It had to. He was so scared and he couldn’t take it out on the clown. Bill was the next best thing. Bill had dragged them down there.  They were all there for him. He couldn’t imagine what he would have done if Eddie had died that day. He didn’t want to think about it. Instead, he dug his fingertips into Eddie’s shirt, pulling him as tightly to him as he could manage.

They were both too wrapped up in the movie now to go back to ignoring it.  Eddie’s tears left wet marks on Richie’s shirt where his cheek was pressed to his chest.  Richie had kicked up the armrest on Eddie’s other side so they could lay like they were on one of their couches.  As the little boy’s funeral came around, Richie shifted, looking for the little girl. When she slowly started to make her way down the stairs to the parlor, Eddie whimpered.

“Wanna go tree climbing, Thomas J?” she asked, nearly climbing into the coffin with her best friend.  “His face hurts! And where are his glasses? Put his glasses on!” She dissolved into sobs, leaving both of the young men in hysterics.  Richie laced his hands into the back of Eddie’s shirt and tried not to insert himself into the movie. “He can’t see without his glasses.”  Eddie, on the other hand, was succinctly wrecked. He hadn’t quite had the immediate fear of Richie’s death put into his head, but he still knew just how close they’d come to this being one of them, what felt like a lifetime ago.

And things like that are some of my favorite ways to work in a pop culture reference because it's a good way of using something familiar to hammer home an emotion without having them have a really heavyhanded conversation. A conversation about those fears that have been there so long would have probably come out like an afternoon special if they'd had that conversation. Plus, at 15/16ish, neither of them would have been having that conversation unprompted, but when, later, they're talking about why they were crying so hard, you have that "He was allergic to bees" to call back to and realize that Richie knows all of Eddie's allergies by heart and the near-death experience of your childhood best friend and if you know My Girl, you have that second layer of emotion to guide where the pain is coming from. [Feeling Like I've Missed You All This Time, Chapter 4]

But, sometimes, it's just something offhand that I sit there and smile like an idiot when I write because it's just so perfect. like the comment about Richie being disappointed that he couldn't make jokes about Lance Bass's Ass being out of this world.

Eddie was quiet for a moment.  He thought it over, knowing that Richie meant it.  “But wasn’t one of them going to be an astronaut?  He had to be-”

Nodding evenly, Richie answered, “Yeah.  I was disappointed I wasn’t going to get to mention that his ass was out of this world.  Not that I had anyone to talk to about it.”  It was a quiet, lonely thought.  But Richie didn’t much care.  It didn’t matter anymore.

“Rich-”

Especially in that context, it's a little more like an in-joke with myself because I WAS the boyband girl when I was younger, but like... This one clicked so well when I was writing it, I felt like I just had to stop and pat myself on the back for the setting. Like, even Repression Era Richie had some Real Richie in him and like, I think that specific joke is something that is just... It's so telling that that's like 100% something he'd have said to Eddie at 15 for sitting on a rocket popsicle, or at 40 because Newly Out Eddie is getting adventurous and got a pair of underwear that has all of the planets on and Richie would not have been Richie if his boyfriend was going to /space/ and he didn't make at least one joke like that, but he didn't have anyone to make that joke to. That wasn't his world. And that's why it would never have worked, no matter how self-conscious Eddie gets about it because like... Richie may have loved Lance (or something) but Eddie is Eddie. I think, sometimes, it's fun to have a useful way to highlight that contrast, especially with a character like Richie. [Show Our Dedication]

To be honest, one of the reasons I think I love writing for It more than any other fandom I've been in is because I get to flex those nostalgia muscles that are all things that have been living in my head since I was way too young to be watching TRL and E!, you know? Like, I'm a little younger than the Losers, but my siblings are all right around the same age so, if any of you have older siblings, you know about the trickle-down pop culture knowledge, the ambient stuff that you know you're too young to remember but you DO and then you think about it and it's like oh... yeah. That's because my brother used to watch that, so even though I wasn't "watching" it was on in the background. Or, yeah, I'm a little young for this to be my specific memory of this videogame, but we were broke so my sister's old genesis was the one console i had until i got a used ps2 years and years after it was relevant. Like, I'm the baby in my generation of the family, plus, my parents are on the older side, so I have a lot of weird knowledge and memories that it's like "well why did you see the first scream movie in theatres. ditto to titanic." "because my sister that lived with us the longest was born in 1980, so my mom took her and i was just kind of... there."

Plus, I'm just generally fascinated by pop culture and it's effect on people and the times, so i tend to try to diffuse that into my writing because i want people to have that kind of visceral response to my writing, where it all feels very rounded and homey.

[amanda-teaches]

Til Death Do Us Part? (1)

Series Summary: At a work party with your best friend, Dean, you panic when your new boss asks if you’re couple. Lying to protect your promotion, you wind up fake engaged before you can take it back. When Dean agrees to go along with your lie for a weekend retreat, you end up finding something neither of you had bargained for: love.

Pairing: AU Dean x Reader

Square filled: Fake Dating/Marriage for @spndeanbingo​, Fake Marriage for @spngenrebingo​, Mistaken for a couple for @spnfluffbingo​, “He’s always been there for me through all my terrible relationships and shit, and I can tell him anything” for @spnquotebingo​

Word Count: 2135

Warnings: A hint of future angst, some swearing, fluff

A/N: This is the first part of a little mini-series I’ve been working on. It will probably be around 3-4 parts, or more depending on how much fluffy cuteness I plop in the middle, but I’m pretty excited about it, so I wanted to share the first part with you all to see what you think. I hope you like it! Let me know! I haven’t finished writing yet, so you never know if your reactions may influence the series. ;)

Til Death Do Us Part? Masterlist

In the dead of the night, sitting on a deserted train station bench in the middle of the pouring rain, you finally felt safe enough to let yourself cry.

So, you sobbed. All alone, in the silky, golden evening gown that you’d felt so goddamn beautiful in, you sobbed, the tears running down your face and into your already-wet hair.

You pulled the note out of your pocket, watching as the words began to smear and run down the page.

To the Future Mrs. Winchester,

You look gorgeous tonight. Just like every night. Remember to save me a dance.

D

You closed your eyes and cried even harder, the sobs wracking your body. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. It was all supposed to be fake, a means to an end, one friend helping another...

You weren’t supposed to fall in love. 

Damn that Dean Winchester.

One week and two days earlier…

You opened up the dating app on your phone, and scrolled through the dozens of “hey, sexy” and “what r u wearing?” messages before closing it again in disgust. “Oh my God, what’s the point of this stupid thing?”

Your best friend, Francesca, plopped down on the couch beside you, a bowl of popcorn in her hands, and looked over at your phone with a smirk. “The wonderful world of online dating?”

“How did you ever guess?” you answered sarcastically, amusement softening your tone. “Geez, it’s crazy! For every nice guy I find, there’s like 100 creeps.”

“Hey, what happened to that one guy? The therapist?”

You groaned. “He tried to psychoanalyze me all night. Wound up crying on my shoulder over his repressed daddy issues.”

“The architect?”

“Drew up the plans for our dream house within the first 10 minutes of the date.”

“The musician?”

“Texted his ex the whole night.”

She laughed and shook her head. “God, am I glad that I’m married.” Then, she turned to you, tucking a leg underneath her. “Hey, when are you going to give up on this whole online dating thing and just go out with Dean?”

Rolling your eyes, you shook your head. “I’ve told you a thousand times. Dean and I are just friends.”

“Oh, sure,” she laughed. “Just friends who text everyday, spend hours on Facetime with each other, and act as each other’s emotional support systems. Y/N, you’re practically married. The only thing missing is the sex.”

“Francesca!” you cried, an undercurrent of laughter running through your voice. “We are not practically married. Look, I love Dean, he’s always been there for me through all my terrible relationships and shit, and I can tell him anything, but that’s all it is. We’re just friends, I swear.”

She looked at you for another moment, skepticism filling her eyes. “Mhmm, keep telling yourself that. I’m just saying, you could do a lot worse than Dean Winchester. You don’t snap him up now, someone else will. And, ‘just friends’ or not, Y/N, I can guarantee, if that happens, you’re gonna regret not going for it.”

She sat back, focusing on her popcorn and queueing up the movie for the night, but you stayed staring straight ahead, her words lingering in your head. You wanted Dean to be happy, to find someone, just like you were trying to. You wouldn’t regret that if it happened...right?

Picking up your phone again, you stared at the picture of you and Dean that lived on your lockscreen, a smile playing at the corners of your mouth. You were going to see him tomorrow. He was your “date” to a party your new boss was throwing to get to know everyone, but you’d only asked him because you didn’t want to go alone. He was always your plus one to these kinds of things, and vice versa. You both knew it was strictly as friends, there wasn’t anything more than that. Besides, you were sure that the two of you could never really work. 

At least that’s what you kept telling yourself.

The sound of Dean’s Impala rumbling up to your house the next morning made your heartbeat a little faster than you were willing to admit. Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath to calm yourself and grabbed your purse and phone, heading towards the door. You were sitting in his passenger seat in no time at all, with him smiling at you from across the bench seat.

“Ready to impress the new boss?”

“Hell yeah,” you nodded. “Thanks for coming with me. I hate doing these things alone.”

“Course,” he replied, shifting the car into gear with an easy smile on your face. “You know how impressive I naturally am.”

“Mhmm,” you laughed, shaking your head slightly. He grinned and winked at you, pulling the car into the street on the way to the “garden party” as your boss was calling it.

You were expecting some sort of outdoor barbecue/picnic situation, but when Dean pulled up in front of the mini mansion the address led to, and you saw the valets parking the cars, you were glad you’d worn your nicest sun dress.

“Damn,” he whistled, under his breath, staring out the dashboard. “Who’s your new boss, Richie Rich?”

“Apparently,” you muttered, still in disbelief. “I was not expecting this when I woke up this morning.”

“But, good news,” Dean pointed out, stopping his car in the middle of the circular driveway. “I bet the free food’s gonna be out of this world.”

You laughed as Dean got out, rushing around to your side of the car to open the door for you. You smiled and thanked him, and, after watching him warn the valet to treat his baby better than his own mother, he escorted you inside, your arm intertwined with his. He whispered something that made you laugh again, and you leaned into him, whispering back, as if being this close was the most natural thing in the world. If only it was this easy with every other guy.

When you got to the backyard, Dean dropped your arm, making a beeline for the rows of white-linen tables stacked with food. You started to follow him, but, when you spotted your new boss out of the corner of your eye, you changed tactics, wanting to make a good impression on her before she was inundated with too many people.

“Clarissa, hi,” you stammered, a little awkwardly, once you reached her. “You have a beautiful home.”

“Thank you,” she said politely, turning to you. She studied you for a brief second before recognition registered, and her eyes lit up, a genuine smile replacing the formal one. “Oh! Y/N, right?”

“Uh, yes, yes!” You couldn’t believe she remembered your name already. Since you were one of four people vying for a coveted promotion at the company, this could be your big chance. “I’d really love to get a chance to talk with you about my thoughts on the Newman project.”

“Oh, of course, dear,” she humored you, dismissing the work talk by looking around. “Where did that nice young man that you came in with go?”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “Oh, Dean? He went to get us some food.”

“That’s so sweet of him. You’ve got yourself a good one there.”

“Oh no, we’re just…”

“You know,” she said, cutting you off. “There’s a couple’s retreat next weekend for some of the higher ups in the firm, a little bonding experience, so to say. There’s an open spot left. Maybe you and your young man could come?” She leaned in and gave you a conspiratorial wink. “We’d have plenty of time to talk more if you were there.”

“A couple’s retreat?” you repeated back, growing flustered. “But, Dean and I, we aren’t…”

She glanced at your ring finger. “Oh, dear, you two aren’t married yet. Such a shame. Unfortunately, the retreat is for married and engaged couples only.” She sighed, staring down at her mimosa. “Oh, I guess I’ll have to give Stuart your spot.”

Stuart? Oh, no way in hell. That guy had been gunning for your promotion for well over a year. You panicked, looking over at Dean, who’d piled two plates full of food over at the buffet. Watching him, you imagined your promotion flying away, and you blurted out the only hail mary you could think of. “Wait! Dean and I are engaged!”

Clarissa’s eyes widened with excitement. “Oh, really?! I didn’t see a ring, so I just assumed.”

“Oh, well,” you bluffed, struggling to think of a believable cover. “It’s all pretty recent, so the ring’s, uh, getting resized. But, yes, we’re engaged. Fully committed and engaged to be married.”

“That’s wonderful!” she exclaimed, clapping her hands. “Then, you two can come to the retreat next weekend! It’s up at the Mountview, all inclusive.”

You whistled under your breath. Damn, the Mountview. It cost like 1,000 a night to stay there. Suddenly, you realized what you were doing, and you knew this innocent little lie was spiraling way out of control.

“Actually…”

She waved you off, looking over your shoulder. “This is so great! I’ve heard really great things about you, Y/N. I can’t wait for you and your fiance to knock the socks off our executives. Now, if you’ll excuse me for just a second.”

Before you could stop her, she was gone, having spotted someone across the room. You were left standing alone, and, looking up, you spotted Dean smiling at you from across the lawn, holding up his plates of food triumphantly.

Oh God, were you screwed.

“YOU SAID WHAT?!”

You looked around for a second, putting your hand on his chest to quiet him. “Shh, someone might hear.”

“So fuckin’ what if they hear, Y/N! You told your boss we were engaged!”

“I know, I know,” you whispered. You grabbed Dean’s hand and pulled him further into the hallway off the doors to the backyard, so your argument would be blocked from where the party was still going on, in full swing. “I’m an idiot, okay? I fully admit that.”

He looked down at you and exhaled heavily, running his hand through his hair. “What the hell were you thinking?”

“I don’t know!” you sputtered, beginning to ramble. “She thought we were a couple, and I tried to explain we were just friends, but then she kept talking and talking, and the retreat was all BAM, Mountview! And, then, then, she wanted to invite Stuart, I mean Stuart, of all people, and I just panicked, and, I...”

“Okay, okay,” he chuckled, placing his hands firmly on your shoulders. “Chill before you pass out on me. Deep breaths.”

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, leaning into him. He immediately wrapped his arms around you, the argument instantly forgotten, and pulled you into a warm, safe hug. “I’m so sorry…” you mumbled against his chest. “I just wanted that promotion so bad, I think I went a little crazy. I’ll go out there right now and tell her the truth.”

He sighed, his breath ghosting against your hair. “Maybe you shouldn’t.”

Pulling back, you looked up at him, puzzled. “What?”

“Well, you already told her we were engaged, and if you backtrack now, she’s going to think you’re a crazy liar. Besides, it’s only one weekend, right?”

“Wait, are you saying we should actually go? And, pretend to be engaged?”

His face split into an eager smile. “Yeah. We’re best friends, so we already know everything about each other. How hard can fake marriage be? We pretend to be engaged for a weekend, you get your promotion, then we ‘break up’ and decide we’re better off as friends. No one’s any wiser.”

You stared at him for a second, the ramifications of his plan running through your head. Francesca’s words came screaming back at you. “Y/N, you’re practically married. The only thing missing is the sex.” Dean was right, you did know everything about each other. How hard could it be to fake a relationship for a weekend. “Are you sure?” you asked sincerely. “I mean, really, really sure.”

He nodded, taking your hands in his and dropping to his knee with a dramatic flourish. “Y/N Y/L/N, will you fake marry me?”

You laughed looking down at him, the sight of his goofy grin instantly bringing a smile to your face. You nodded, agreeing, but, no matter how much you tried to ignore the voice in the back of your head, Francesca’s other words lingered. “You don’t snap him up now, someone else will. And, ‘just friends’ or not, Y/N, I can guarantee, if that happens, you’re gonna regret not going for it.”

Shit, you really were in over your head this time.

Forevers- @atc74​ @babypieandwhiskey​ @be-amaziing​ @carryonmywaywardcaptain​ @deans-dirty-writer​ @deanwanddamons​ @deanwinchesterswitch​ @dolphincliffs​ @edgeofreality35​ @emoryhemsworth​ @focusonspn​ @hannahindie​ @heyitscam99​ @impala-dreamer​ @impandagrl​ @karikatz12481​ @katymacsupernatural​ @maddiepants​ @masksandtruths​ @mrsdeanfuckingwinchester​ @mysterious-398​ @ohmychuckitssamanddean​ @pinknerdpanda​ @roxyspearing​ @spnbaby-67​ @squirrel-moose-winchester​ @wi-deangirl77​ @wonderfulworldofwinchester​

Dean Tags - @adoptdontshoppets​ @akshi8278​ @alexwinchester23​  @dean-winchesters-bacon​ @squirrelnotsam​

[nblesbianbenhanscom]

2 + reddie?

“You love me like I deserve you.”

Thank you for the prompt! I’m sorry it took so long, but uh... it’s a whole ass fic! Lol.

Weep Little Lion Man-- on ao3

***

Eddie stumbles into his apartment, totally exhausted. All he wants to do is fall onto the couch and sleep for 27 years, but he can’t. Richie is staying with him and he’s going to want food.

“That you, spaghetti?” Richie calls. Eddie doesn’t even have enough energy to be annoyed at the stupid nickname.

“No, it’s the Zodiac killer, come to eat your guts,” Eddie calls back. Richie comes out of the bedroom and pulls Eddie into a hug.

“The Zodiac killer wasn’t a cannibal. You’re thinking of Hannibal Lecter,” Richie says. Eddie bites at Richie’s pec, and Richie winces, laughing. “How was your day, my love?”

“Ughhhhhhh!” Eddie groans. Richie kisses his hair.

“That good, huh?”

“I can’t wait for the divorce to be over,” Eddie says. “I want to live in LA and be with you all the time already.” They are in New York in a small ass apartment that Eddie is renting month to month. Richie is there for a few weeks having just gotten off tour.

“Soon, babes, soon.”

“Myra is such a bitch,” Eddie mumbles.

“I know, love, I know.”

“I just hate how she’s insisting on dragging this out,” Eddie mumbles. At first he’d offered to give her whatever she wanted, ready to move on. Myra had gotten mad, saying he would tell all their friends she’d taken advantage of him. Eddie offered to give her what she came with, and a small alimony check, but it wasn’t enough. Splitting everything was too much. It felt like nothing would be good enough, and Eddie is about 3 seconds away from dropping everything and just running.

“The meeting went that well?” Richie asks.

“Sorry, Rich, I’m just tired. Let me go take a shower and we can go grocery shopping.” He kisses Richie’s cheek and starts to pull away.

“Why don’t you just take your time in the shower? I can go,” Richie offers and Eddie bristles.

“No. I’ll be quick.”

“Eds, you had a long day. I don’t mind,” Richie says softly.

“I said, ‘no.’” Eddie snaps. “I’ll be quick.”

“Are you sure? Cause I don’t mind. Really.”

“Beep beep, mother fucker. I’m perfectly capable of doing my own grocery shopping!” Eddie yells. “I’m not some pathetic baby! I am a grown ass adult. I know I’m a fucking mess right now, but it’s not like I can’t fucking grocery shop!” Eddie doesn’t even know what he’s saying. He doesn’t know why he’s so angry.

“Whoa, Eds!” Richie takes a step back holding his hands up in the air.

“My name is Eddie! What the fuck dude! You know how much I hate it when you call me Eds. It’s such a child’s name, and I am not a child!” He’s nearly screaming now. “And let’s say I do let you go grocery shopping? Do you even fucking know what brands I like? What foods I can eat? Do you know what I’m allergic to? Do you?”

Richie doesn’t say anything, just lets Eddie rant.

“Are you going to say something, Richie? I asked you a question. You never fucking shut up, and now I ask you a question and you can’t fucking say anything?”

Richie licks his lips. He’s about to say something, but Eddie doesn’t want to hear it so he just pushes past the taller man.

“You don’t have to coddle me, Richie! I’m capable of doing my own errands!” Eddie leaves Richie by the door and goes to take a shower. His hands shake as he undresses. He gets frustrated with the buttons on his shirt, and one of them pops off. When he’s naked, he leaves his clothes in a pile on the floor and jumps in the shower.

He takes his time, washing his hair and body vigorously, his mind racing. What the fuck is wrong with him? Richie was just trying to be nice because he loves Eddie and knows how completely overwhelmed Eddie is. Eddie know Richie is nothing like Myra or his mother, but Eddie can do his own fucking grocery shopping.

When he gets out, he’s still angry, but he feels mostly in control until he sees Richie on the couch watching TV. He’s still wearing his sweats and a sleep shirt.

“Are we going grocery shopping or what?” Eddie snaps and Richie jumps.

“What the fuck Eddie!” Richie says. “I thought you wanted to go alone.”

“I didn’t say that,” Eddie says. “When did I say that? What could have possibly lead you to the conclusion that I wanted to go alone?”

“Um, maybe because you keep yelling at me when I’m just trying to be nice?” Richie says.

“Fuck you!” Eddie yells. “I don’t need you to be nice to me. I’m perfectly fine!”

“Clearly,” Richie says. Eddie rubs his face.

“Just fucking get dressed.”

“If you yell at me in public, we will end up in the tabloids.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing. Doesn’t that just give you fodder for your failing comedy career?” As soon as the words leave his mouth, Eddie’s whole body flushes. He feels like garbage. He and Richie tease a lot, but this doesn’t feel like teasing, and he hates himself for it.

“Eddie, stop,” Richie says softly. “Just talk to me.”

“I am talking to you.”

“No, you’re screaming at me,” Richie says.

“I’m fine, Richie! I just need you to get dressed! I’m tired and hungry.”

“Why don’t we just order something?” Richie asks.

“Because, Richie! I like cooking! And I want to cook you a fucking nice meal. But I need to go to the fucking store.”

“So go!” Richie says. “I’m not stopping you!”

“Fine!” Eddie goes to the door and starts to put on his shoes, but his hands won’t stop shaking. Tears fill his eyes and he slumps into the door.

“Eddie!” Richie says. He gets up and kneels next to Eddie, hesitating.

“Richie-” Eddie gropes for Richie’s shirt and pulls him close. “Oh, God, Richie. I’m so fucking sorry.” Richie pulls Eddie close, stroking his back.

“It’s ok, Eddie, you’re ok,” Richie whispers. Eddie just cries. He cries and he cries and he cries and he cries.

He cries until he feels empty and then he just lays limply in Richie’s arms while Richie kisses his hair.

“You’re ok, my love,” Richie says. “I’m here. I’ve got you.”

“I’m sorry, Richie. I- I don’t know where all that came from.” Eddie sits up and wipes his face with his shirt.

“You’ve been under a lot of pressure lately.”

“But that doesn’t make it right to treat you like shit,” Eddie says.

“I know you didn’t mean it, Eds-dee. Eddie.”

Laughing softly, “It’s ok. You can call me Eds. I don’t mind. Not really.”

“I just didn’t want to upset you again.”

Taking a deep breath, Eddie leans against the door. “I- I think I got upset because I actually like shopping. It was one of the few times I got to be alone when I was married and-” He takes another deep breath. “I’m sorry, baby.”

“It’s ok, really,” Richie says so gently, so softly. Eddie’s eyes fill up with tears again.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Do what?” Richie asks.

“Be nice. Act like I deserve it.”

“But you do deserve it,” Richie says. He scoots a little closer to Eddie but doesn’t touch him.

“I don’t.”

“You do. I love you, and you deserve to be treated nicely.”

“Even when I’m a little asshole?”

“Especially when you’re a little asshole,” Richie says, and Eddie leans into his shoulder. They fall silent. Eddie is still hungry, but now he’s more tired than anything, and he’s wondering if Richie will still order them food.

“How do you do it?” Eddie asks eventually.

“Do what?”

“Love me. You love me like I deserve you,” Eddie says. His throat is tight with emotions, he can barely get the words out.

Richie tugs Eddie into his lap and grabs Eddie’s face in his hands. For the first time that night he looks angry. Really angry.

“Edward Kaspbrak,” Richie growls, and Eddie’s eyes go wide. “You do deserve me. You are such an amazing person, and I love you so fucking much. I- What-” He stops and closes his eyes. He’s trying to get himself under control. “Your mother and your wife-” He stops again, biting back tears.

“Richie-”

Opening his eyes, Richie says, “You deserve everything you could ever want in the world, Eddie. Everything. You are so amazing, and sweet, and loving, and funny, and real. Yeah, sometimes you’re an asshole, but that’s ok. We all have our moments. If you need to let off some steam, that’s ok. You’re allowed to be angry and hurt.” He pauses. “There’s still so much that we don’t know about each other, and it’s hard to know what’s going to set one of us off. Today I set you off. Tomorrow you’ll probably set me off. So long as we talk about it, it’s going to be ok.”

He pulls Eddie close, and kisses him so, so gently. He kisses him like Eddie’s worth Richie’s whole attention, like there’s nothing he’d rather be doing, even when Eddie has spent the better part of the last hour screaming at him about nothing. It’s too much for Eddie, and when they break apart, he’s crying again, but so is Richie.

Neither of them say anything for several minutes. They just sit on the floor in front of Eddie’s door, foreheads pressed together as they hold each other and cry.

Eddie can’t believe this is happening. If this had happened with Myra, he would have left for the store and when he got home, they would have fought some more. Eddie might have cried, but he would have done it alone, in the bathroom or on the couch after Myra had gone to bed. When it got late enough, he would have curled up in bed next to Myra and try to make himself as small as possible, wanting to make sure Myra couldn’t touch him without making an effort.

But with Richie. Richie is right there. He’s holding Eddie, talking him through it, telling him it’s ok. And Eddie believes him. He really does. He knows everything’s going to be ok. It is just a bad night, but Richie still wants him close. Not like Myra would have, not in a way that he wants to control Eddie’s emotions. Richie wants Eddie close so he can help Eddie through whatever lies his brain is telling him, to make sure he knows he’s loved and supported.

After a bit, Eddie kisses Richie again, and they get up slowly. Richie orders them take out, and they spend the evening curled up on the couch, just holding hands and watching something stupid on TV. When they go to bed, Eddie curls up into Richie’s arms, and falls asleep on Richie’s chest. They sleep the whole night through.

[marvelslut16]

Can’t live without you

Pairing: Stanley Uris x reader (adults)

Synopsis: (Y/N) finds out that her best friend didn’t arrive back in Derry with the rest of the losers club, and finds out that he tried to kill himself. Glimpses of her past with Stan are seen as she visits him in the hospital. Will the best friends that have been pining over each other since they were kids finally get their happy ending, or will Patricia and the very different lives the lead get in the way?

Word count: 5,314 this is a lot more than I originally planned, guess I got carried away.

Warnings: Attempted suicide. Talk of self harm. Blood/gore/violence, typical for the IT fandom. Brief implication of domestic violence from a father and a wife. A little angsty at times, but fluffy. Swearing. Tooth rotting fluff near the end.

A/N: Stan may be OOC, but I tried my hardest for my first IT story. Stan the man Uris is fantastic and deserved so much better. AU where the characters I love don’t die. The reader in this story isn’t Jewish, if you are Jewish, I apologize. There is a cute little story-line that relies heavily on the reader not having the same faith as him.

It had been just over twenty years since you were last in your home town of Derry Maine, and you hadn’t thought if it once. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to remember, you just couldn't. There were days when the name Stan would randomly pop in your head, and from a place buried very deep in the back of your brain, you were sure he was an important person in your adolescent life. 

When Mike Hanlon called to tell you that Pennywise was back, your heart started pounding so hard you were convinced it would leap from its place inside your chest. You didn’t exactly remember Pennywise, but you remembered the fear. You also remembered a mop of curly light brown hair that you immediately associated with Stan. 

Upon arriving at the Chinese restaurant in Derry flashes of your childhood came back, they were so unfamiliar it was like watching somebody else's life. Stan was the center of almost all of them, your old best friend and boy you had been in love with since you were six. It was great catching up with your old friends, but it didn’t feel right without Stan. 

The other six members of the losers club opened their fortune cookies, spelling out; ‘I,’ ‘cut,’  ‘not,’ ‘it,’ ‘guess,’ and ‘could.’ Your heart falls into the pit of your stomach as you open your own and see the thick black letters spelling out Stanley. 

“No,” you gasp out a plea to no one in particular. You lean forward and numbly move the papers around to say, ‘I guess Stanley could not cut it.’ The rest of the losers club had remembered enough over dinner to remember just how much Stan meant to you, causing them to stare at you as you try to blink back tears. 

The group running from creatures breaking out of fortune cookies happens in a blur, your head isn’t clear until the cool night air hits it. Mike gives you Stan’s number as soon as he comes to his senses. You walk away from the group, wanting privacy for whatever you get on the other end of the call. 

“Who is this?” a female voice answers the phone. Your furrow your eyebrows in fear and glance over at Mike who is watching you closely. 

“Uh, (Y/N) (Y/L/N),” you state nervously, picking at your already chipped nail polish. “I’m sorry, I thought this was Stan Uris’s number.”

“It is,” the voice says slowly. “How do you know him?”

“We grew up together, we were best friends,” you smile as you remember gripping onto his hand as the wind whipped around you two the first time you jumped into the quarry. “Our friend group was having a mini reunion back home, and we got worried that he didn’t show up.”

“He’s in the hospital,” she says with no real emotion in her voice. 

“What?” you ask in disbelief. Not your Stan. 

“He’s in the hospital,” she snaps. “Do I need to say it slower for you? He slit his wrists and lost a lot of blood.”

“Oh my God,” you murmur, knees going weak at the thought. “Which hospital? I’d like to visit him before I go back home.”

She tells you the name of the hospital and hangs up before you can say anything else. Your knees buckle as soon as the line clicks dead, causing you to fall and scrape up your knees on the dirty pavement. Tears stream down your face and silent sobs shake your body. Ben and Bev immediately rush to your side, Bev kneeling beside you as she rubs soothing circles into your back. 

“(Y/N)?” she asks nervously. 

“He’s in the hospital,” you sob out weakly. “He tried to kill himself.” Bev helps you stand and sets you in Richie’s car so you can head to the hotel.

The rest of your time in Derry is a blur, it’s over so quick, but feels painfully slow. You instantly knew that your token was the menorah necklace that you’ve worn everyday since you had gotten it in sixth grade. Stan had bought it for you for Christmas as a joke, his father had made a not-so-pleasant comment about you not being Jewish the week prior. You knew you loved him the moment you tore the ribbon off of the box; he knew you better than anyone else, he let his guard down when he was with you, and he was the kindest, sweetest boy you had ever met especially when he stood up to his father about your religion.

Before you know it you’re assaulted by the smell of bleach and shiny white floors as you walk into the hospital Stan is in. After finding out the room number from the receptionist you slowly head to his room, wondering if you should really be there. 

Through the small window of Stan’s hospital room you see a blonde woman sitting on a couch on the far side of the room, typing away on her laptop. When you enter the room she slams her laptop shut and walks over to you, making sure to stand between you and Stan’s bed. 

“I’m Patricia Uris,” she makes no move to stick her hand out for you to shake, but makes the diamond on her left hand noticeable. 

“I’m (Y/N),” you give her a small smile that drops as you look behind her, seeing Stan’s body lay there unmoving. “We briefly spoke on the phone the other night.”

“Right,” her eyes squint as she looks you up and down. “What happened to your face?” She’s referring to the healing cut that reaches from your hairline diagonally to your eyebrow, you should really look into getting side bangs or something. Pennywise was always great at mentally and physically scarring everyone. 

“I was taking a shortcut through the forest in Derry when I slipped and cut it on a sharp piece of bark,” you lie effortlessly. She rolls her eyes but seems to believe your terrible excuse. “Is Stan getting any better?”

“The doctors say he should wake up any day now,” she doesn’t sound as excited about that as a wife should. “They say he should be awake, he just doesn’t want to. It’s all psychological apparently. It’s just like Stan to not want to do anything, always wanting to bird watch instead of going shopping with me.”

“Stan always loved to bird watch,” you smile at Patricia, pushing away the anger you feel at her ignorance and disdain she seems to hold for her husband. “He used to always drag me to the park in Derry to show me the different types, I was the only one in the group to enjoy it with him.”

“Yeah, well, it gets old fast,” she rolls her eyes, turning around to pack her laptop in her bag and grab her purse. “I’m gonna go home and shower, sit with him as long as you want to.”

Her heels click loudly on the linoleum flooring as she walks past you without a second glance towards Stan. You frown at her back as she walks down the hall to the elevator. You pull up a chair next to Stan’s bed and lightly grab his limp hand, running your thumb over the back of his hand.”

“You can’t leave me alone in this shit world, not after I finally remember,” tears spill down your cheeks. “I need you Stan the man. I’ll even go bird watching with you. Richie said, and I quote, so you can’t get mad at me for saying this when you wake up and remember me saying this, that you need to wake your ass up Urine, there are still a shit ton of birds to go look at. It’s all over Stan, we killed IT. And we all made it out, so you definitely need to wake back up. I’ve lived twenty years without you Stanley, I can’t go twenty more without you. I can’t even go one more without you.

Richie and Eddie finally got together, it was really cute. Eddie thought he was dying, he got stabbed by IT, so he confessed his love to Richie. But Richie was determined to get him out of there alive, and he did. So now they’re finally together, even though he married a woman that’s essentially his mother. Ben and Bev finally got together, we used to always say that they were made for each other. Ben is super fit now, but he’s still the biggest sweetheart I have ever met. And Bev is still so strong willed and fierce. 

Bill is a horror writer now, which to me is pretty ironic. They’re making his stories into movies, where they always change the ending because they want something happy. He married some actress, who he’s divorcing as we speak. She isn’t great, insulting his work and not really caring that she’s hurting his feelings. Mike has been living in Derry this entire time, he took over his family's business. He was waiting these past twenty-seven years for IT to come back. Trying his hardest to protect the next generation from the horror that we faced. 

I guess that just leaves me, I moved to Colorado, far far away from Derry. I worked my ass off to become a lawyer, the dream you always pushed me to go after. Even when I couldn’t remember you, your encouragement was in the back of my head, keeping me going when it got difficult. There were days that I would get foggy images of us getting ice cream, or splashing each other in the quarry, all of those times when you would let your guard down and have fun with me. Even after the losers club drifted apart as we went into high school, you stayed at my side. You defended me to your father when he hated that we were so close, even though I wasn’t Jewish. We were always there to pick each other up when Bowers or Greta and their friends would tease or beat us up. Stanley Uris, please wake up. I need you, we all miss you, and I definitely miss you the most.”

--

After spending hours with him, you head to the nearest hotel for the night. The next morning you stop by the hospital with the intent to say goodbye to Stan before heading home. When you walk up to the room Patricia and the doctor are talking. 

“There was more brain activity yesterday,” the doctor’s voice drifts out through the open door and into the hall where you’re standing. “Whatever you did, do it again, because it was the first time we saw evidence that he could wake up.”

“Great,” she has a fake grin on her face, and she’s using a fake tone. Why doesn’t she want Stan, the most amazing man you have ever met and her husband, to wake up? “What are you doing here again?” she snaps as she notices you in the doorway. 

“I have to head back home, so I wanted to say goodbye to him,” you nervously fiddle with the hem of your sweater. 

“Didn’t you have enough time with him yesterday?” she glares at you. Why is she so defensive about you seeing Stan again?

“You were here yesterday?” the doctor's eyes widen as he looks at you for the first time. 

“Yeah,” you answer shyly, flattening the side bangs you cut last night. Making sure they cover your stitched up forehead. His eyes light up in excitement and goes to talk to you once more, Patricia cuts him off. 

“Well, as Stanley’s wife, I’m not sure I feel comfortable having you spend more time with him,” as she goes to continue with a string of complaints, a hushed and broken sound comes from the hospital bed. 

“Oh my God,” you whisper, your hand covering your mouth. Your knees go weak, almost collapsing with relief as Stan repeats the sounds he had just made. 

“I’m right here Stan,” Patricia forces her excitement once more, limply grabbing his hand. 

“(Y/N),” his voice is clear this time, and your heart flutters as your old best friend says your name again. You rush over to his other side, gently grabbing his hand since that's where his IV is.

“Stan?” your voice breaks as you try to keep a relieved sob from escaping. Stan slowly and carefully flips his hand over, threading his fingers with yours. “It’s over. IT is gone, we got rid of IT this time.” His eyes open at your words, head turning to look you in the eyes. Tears finally escape the moment you can finally look into his deep brown eyes again. 

“Did you call me urine?” his voice is rough and scratchy from not being able to use it for a week. More tears spill down your face as you laugh, because that was the first question he decides to ask you. 

“I said I was quoting Richie,” your whole body shakes as you laugh, far too relieved to care if Patricia thinks you’re being over the top. 

“I can remember,” his voice is softer, just like his eyes. “I remember everything. What ever happened to your necklace?” his other hand reaches across his body, but stops and hovers a few inches away from where the necklace once hung. You instinctively reach up to touch your chest where the pendent once fell. 

“We needed tokens of our past, the most important thing from our childhood, that was mine,” he grips your hand tighter, the other one falling to his lap and away from Patricia. “I wore it everyday these past twenty seven years.”

“What necklace?” Patricia’s strained voice brings you back to Earth. You carefully let go of Stan’s hand and pull it back to your side. You had forgotten about Patricia, forgot that you aren’t allowed to love him anymore. 

“I got her a menorah necklace,” Stan laughs at the memory, not noticing that you got awkward and pulled away. “She’s not Jewish, and my dad always hated that we were so close and she wasn’t. I used to joke that I would convert her one day, so I thought it would be funny to get her it for Christmas.” The doctor grins at you and Stan with a knowing look before backing out of the room quietly. 

“Cute,” Patricia rolls her eyes and glares at you. You frown in response, wondering what on Earth you ever did to her. Ignoring Patricia, you hand Stan the unopened water bottle from your bag, sure that he’d need some water. He smiles gratefully at you before taking a large sip.

“What are you even doing here?” his stern gaze landing on Patricia. You furrow your brows, the Stan you knew would never treat his wife this way. 

“I’m your wife!” her voice is shrill, hurting your ears and making you cringe. Stan on the other hand doesn’t seem amused with the outburst. 

“We aren’t married anymore Patricia,” Stan’s voice is harder than you have ever heard before. “I divorced you three years ago, the only reason you're here is because I haven’t changed my emergency contact.” 

You run your hands through your hair as you process the new information, Stan was available. You could love him without being guilty. You could finally tell him that you love him, that you always have. 

“Well have fun with your deformed klutz over there,” she gestures towards you with a mocking grin. You had pushed your bangs back a moment prior without realizing it, Stan’s gaze on you quickly goes from confused to anger as he pieces together what happened to you. 

“Leave Patricia,” the anger in his voice is kinda hot. “I never want to see you again.”

“Don’t come crawling back to me when you get bored with her,” and with that she leaves, slamming the door loudly behind her. 

“What happened?” Stan brings his hand up and gently glides his fingers over the stitches Eddie put in. 

“You aren’t married?” your heart is beating so fast you swear it would break out of your chest and fly away. 

 “No, I divorced her a while ago, I realized she was treating me terribly,” you start crying at his words. “Why are you crying?”

“I thought you were dead, and then I thought you were married and slowly dying,” you sob. “But now you’re suddenly single and very much alive. It’s a lot to process. 

He lifts his hand back up to your face, wiping away your tears even if they’re being replaced as soon as he moves his thumb away from your skin. His hands are a little rough, but soft enough to know that he works behind a desk. His hand starts to caress your cheek, you have to fight the heat from rising to your cheeks and push away the excitement you feel from the tender touch. You’re just an old friend he hasn’t seen in twenty years, nothing more. 

“What happened to your forehead?” his voice is soft again, and his fingers brush along the angry red cut once more.  

“I was facing my fear,” images of a young Stan abandoning you in order to save himself, saying that you mean nothing to him, after you had fallen and your abusive father was closing in on you, race through your mind. “And Pennywise, as my father, cornered me after a young you pushed me down and ran away. As my father was hovering over me with a knife, he morphed into IT and he used his long sharp nail to cut my face, and try to gouge my eye out. I got lucky because there happened to be a large rock next to me, which I hit IT with so I could run away.”

“I would never leave you,” Stan says sadly, a hurt look in his eyes as he stares at you but can’t look into your eyes. “I’m sorry you had to see him again, even if he was just IT’s illusion.”

“It’s fine,” you reach up to play with your necklace, forgetting it’s not there anymore. Playing with the necklace had become a coping mechanism for your anxiety. The nervous tick had developed almost immediately after you received the present. “Really, everything is in the past now. I’m fine.”

Stan gives you a disbelieving look, you look around the room to avoid his gaze. Your eyes lock onto the clock, causing them to widen as you take in the time. How had that much time passed already? It felt like you had entered the room five minutes ago, it certainly didn’t feel like two hours had come and gone. 

“What is it?” Stan grabs your hand, keeping you from standing from the uncomfortable hospital chair. 

“I have a plane to catch, in an hour,” you pull your hand from his grasp, standing and backing away from the bed as well. “I need to go now if I have any chance of making it through TSA and to my plane in time.”

“Don’t go,” his voice is soft, broken even. “I lost you once, I can’t lose you again.”

“You’ll be fine Stan,” you flash him a watery smile. “You have healing to do, and then you can go bird watch all you want. We’ll remember each other this time, we can keep in touch.” You walk over to the side of his bed, pushing the curls off his forehead so you can give him a soft kiss. A tear slips down your cheek and lands on his curls as the fall back into place. “Goodbye Stan.”

--

It had been weeks since you had left Atlanta, and you’ve thought of Stan every hour of every day since. It’s like your mind is punishing you with thoughts of him since you had forgotten him for so long. You and Stan texted a couple times, you still had his number from when Mike gave it to you. And just like Mike gave you Stan’s number, he gave Stan your address. Because two and a half weeks after you arrived home, a small package from Stan arrived in the mail. 

You stare at the package in shock for a few minutes, before finally opening it. You gasp as you see a menorah necklace inside, almost identical to the one you had gotten so many years ago. Your heart thumps against your rib cage at the thoughtful, heartfelt gesture. 

You immediately send Stan a text, thanking him for the necklace, while lightly chastising him for spending money on you, and asking him to give you a call as soon as he could. It has been almost twenty four hours since your text, and you've gotten no reply. You start to fear the worst, that this could have been his last act before trying, and succeeding, to kill himself. As you contemplate finding a way to get a wellness check on him, there's a knock on your apartment door. Probably just the guy from down the hall that doesn’t understand that rejection isn’t playing hard to get. 

When you open the door Stan is standing in front of you; his dark brown curls are styled instead of the chaotic mess they were at the hospital, his face clean shaven, his striped button up and pressed khakis are reminiscent of the outfits he would wear as a child. This is how you always imagined Stanley Uris would look like as an adult, well without the small almost unnoticeable scars on the side of his head. 

“Come in,” you finally snap out of your trance and step to the side, leaving more than enough room for him to walk into your modest two bedroom apartment. He takes in the living room and kitchen, but his eyes light up when they land at the necklace hanging delicately from your throat. “Wh-what are you doing here?” you glance down at the small carry on he’s holding.

“I thought I should tell you why I did it,” his voice is strained. “And I didn’t want to do it over the phone, since I know you were getting ready to make some smart ass remark about telephones.” Stan really was your best friend, because he’s spot on with his prediction about what you were just about to say. “I don’t know if it’s because I saw the deadlights for so long or something, but as we kept getting closer to twenty seven years I started to remember. It started with you and the rest of the losers a few years ago, but as soon as Mike told me IT was back I remembered all the pain we went through. I knew that we all needed to go back to Derry, but I knew I couldn’t do it. I knew that if I went my fear would be putting you in danger. I thought suicide would be the only way to keep you safe and where I didn’t have to face IT again.”

“Bev saw visions of everyone's death, how we would all die if we ignored IT. She saw you in your bathtub, and ironically she saw me bashing my own head in with a law textbook,” you laugh awkwardly, changing the subject from his reasoning and proof that he isn’t alone in this. “IT found a way to get to us, no matter how strong we are or how far away from Derry we were. Do I think you and Bev had it worse because you two saw the deadlights? Yeah, I do. I’m sure you got memories back as IT was waking up, you saw the deadlights the longest. You never should have made it out of those sewers alive that summer, but I’m glad you did. That probably made you more susceptible to that rush of fear you got again. And I just want you to know that you aren’t alone Stan.”

“I’ve missed you,” his voice frail as he pulls nervously at the bottom of his button up. 

“It’s been two weeks Stan,” you try to ignore the warm fuzzy feeling growing in your stomach. “You couldn’t have missed me that much. Plus, you could have called to talk.” Stan takes a deep shaky breath, and you frown in concern at his actions.  

“I’ve loved you my entire life (Y/N), it’s been two and a half weeks and I can’t stand to be away from you,” Stan says earnestly, his words warm your broken soul. “Not for two weeks and three days, I don’t think I can even go a day without you near. I love you (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

“I love you too, Stanley Uris,” a grin spreads across your face, the joy mirrored in your eyes. “I knew I loved you the moment I got my first menorah necklace from you. It showed me just how special I was to you, you stood up to your father for me and you got me something that would forever remind the two of us of that moment.” 

Stan doesn’t say anything, he just leans forward and captures your lips with his. The kiss is electric, you swear there are fireworks, just like those cheesy movies. With your left hand you caress the scars on his head from all those years ago, and your right tangles into his styled curls. Stan’s hands grip your hips tightly, like he’s afraid you’ll float away if he lets go. When you pull apart your lips are tingling, both you and Stan panting heavily. 

“Can I stay here tonight?” Stan breaks the mood smiling shyly, causing you to laugh. “I kinda just threw stuff in a bag and got on the first flight out of Georgia, didn’t really plan ahead.”

“Who are you, and what have you done with my Stanley?” you laugh lightly, his ears turning red at your teasing. “He would never leave the house without having a well thought out plan first.”

“What can I say?” his smile grows, and so does yours as you watch the dimple on his right cheek deepen. “Your spontaneity and want for adventure always rubbed off on me.”

“You can stay for as long as you want,” you lean in, gripping his shirt and pulling him into you. This kiss isn’t soft this time, it’s rough and needy. Twenty seven plus years of wanting this and it’s finally yours. The kiss is all teeth and tongue, you sure as hell weren’t going to complain about the amount of passion in it. The kiss was finally a way in which the two of you could express every deep and long buried feeling. 

--

It was four months to the day since Stan showed up at your doorstep, and the two of you had only been apart for a week the entire time. You couldn’t get away from work again so soon and Stan had to go back to Georgia to pack up his belongings. The apartment that you had resided in soon turned into a home, all thanks to Stan. You two invited the rest of the losers over to visit, figuring that you had settled into your new relationship so easily you didn’t want to hide it from your friends. This time there would be no IT, no life threatening tasks to complete, and it’s the first time in twenty seven years that you would all be together. What you don’t know is that Stan is planning a big surprise, with the help of the most important people in your lives. 

You run out to grab salsa from the store you swear you picked some in preparation for today earlier in the week, but Stan said there was none in the fridge. You drive as fast as you can, the losers club should be over within an hour, and you didn’t want them to beat you home. 

The apartment is strangely quiet as you swing the door open; Stan isn’t muttering to himself as he goes over a client’s finances, and he isn’t sitting at the table working on a puzzle. Where is your Stanley?

Before you can get too worried, your brain immediately racing to the possibility that he is in your bathtub, that seeing everyone after all this time was too much for him, Eddie appears from the kitchen. You go to guilty greet him, feeling bad for being a bad hostess and not being there when he and Richie arrived, bet the hypochondriac cuts you off. 

“Your smile that can light up a room,” he grins cheekily at you, like he knows something you don’t. 

“Your smokin’ bod,” Richie joins the two of you, his laugh ending when Eddie smacks his gut. “Fine, fine, your eyes that sparkle when you’re truly happy.”

“How incredibly smart you are, especially when you find holes in the other lawyers arguments,” Bev winks at you, you look around desperately for Stan. Where is he? And what's going on?

“Your perseverance, you always make the hard days look easy,” Ben walks out and wraps his arm around Bev’s shoulders.

“How caring and understanding you are,” Bill stands beside Richie, the grocery bag with the salsa in it, on the floor and long forgotten.

“And that your voice can calm me with just one word,” you furrow your brows at Mike. 

“Those are all things I love about you,” Stan’s gentle voice comes from behind you. You whip around to see his grinning face, no trace of fear or sadness from his past anywhere to be seen, only excitement for the promising future. “I could write a whole book of things that I love about you, but that still wouldn’t cover it all.”

“Stan?” your heart leaps at the glint in his eyes and the softness of his voice, things you want to experience for the rest of your life. 

“I love you (Y/N) (Y/L/N), with my entire being. I always have. When we were kids I knew I would marry you one day, I knew, even then, that there was no way I could live without you. So (Y/N)-” Stan pulls out a little black box from his pocket as he gets on one knee. 

“Yes!” you exclaim a little too loudly as soon as he flips the lid open. The diamond is sparkling up at you, your eyes fill with tears. 

“I didn’t even get to finish,” Stan pouts, humor and happiness twinkling in his eyes.

“I don’t care,” he laughs, sliding the one carat ring on your finger. It’s a perfect fit, meaning good luck through some old superstition. “Just kiss me.”

Stan shoots up from the ground, grabbing your cheek in one hand and caressing it softly, the other slipping into your hair. You pull greedily at the front of his freshly ironed button up as he deepens the kiss. A moan escapes one of you, and from the sounds of how deep it is, you’re sure it was Stan.  

“Get a room,” Richie wolf whistles, you and Stan pull away embarrassed. 

“I can't wait until I can finally call you Mrs. Uris,” he breathes, ignoring Richie, as he rests his forehead on yours. 

“Neither can I,” you close the distance and kiss him again, not caring about the audience, or the quiet sound of disgust from Eddie. Just because he makes out with Richie often, it doesn’t stop the thought of thousands of germs being passed back and forth when he sees someone else kiss.  

You finally get your happy ending with Stan, after all of those shitty years without him, you two will never be apart again. And there is no better way to start the rest of forever together than with the help of the losers, your chosen family.

Permanent tags: @crimson-knuckled-queen​ @rexorangecouny​

[softest-cinnamon-roll]

Hi! Could you possibly give some of your favorite finished chaptered reddie fics?❤

Well do I ever! Enjoy these amazing fics by some amazing people! Its an extensive list so I’ve put it under a read more so as not to clog the tag! 

Is there somewhere by @tozier-boy | 11/11 | complete | explicit

Richie didn’t belong in boring, old fashioned, small Derry, that was for sure.

Richie Tozier wore leather jackets and ripped jeans. Richie Tozier had his ear pierced and he painted his nails black. Richie Tozier wore combat boots and let his curls grow wild and messy. Richie Tozier always had headphones around his neck and sometimes he wore eyeliner. Richie Tozier smoked weed on the school ground and told teachers to shut the fuck up. Richie Tozier was tall and skinny and he wore bands tank tops. Richie Tozier was the reason why Eddie had started biting his lower lip way more frequently than he did before.

Zero Characters Left by @stellarbisexual | 18/18 | complete | explicit 

Eddie works in social media at a tech start-up in Boston, and Richie's been hired to do some video production for the company.

Characters are aged-up to their late twenties, and this takes place in 2017.

Bright as yellow by @speakslowtellmelove | 30/30 | complete | mature 

“‘Remember that hot guy I couldn’t stop turning around to stare at while watching the movie? Y’know, the one I stalked? He’s being hilarious in my math class full of nerds.’ You honestly think that’s my fault, Eds?”

Eddie felt his cheeks heating up, because Richie was right about all of it. Well, most of it. “My name is Eddie, not Eds. And I didn’t stal–”

“Nice to meet you, Eddie. See, isn’t that better? Eddie and Richie, Richie and Eddie. R plus E. It has a nice ring to it.”

the sea around us by @eddiefuckinkaspbrak & @tozier-boy | 26/26 | complete | explicit 

Prince Edward, is due to marry Princess Myra in order to help secure his kingdom financially. In a last ditch effort to be free and fulfil a lifelong dream of travelling the world, he sneaks out of his window and on board a pirate ship. Captain Richie Tozier’s pirate ship.

or Prince Eddie & Pirate Richie AU

Beep-beep, Eddie Kaspbrak by Ragno | 5/5 | complete | mature

Eddie Kaspbrak is 14 years old and he just defeated a demonic clown along with his friends.

Eddie Kaspbrak is 16 years old and he's fighting against himself and the way he feels and the way he thinks.

Eddie Kaspbrak is 18 years old and he'd much rather fight a demonic clown all over again than face his true feelings for Richie Tozier.

The Order by @s-s-georgie | 10/10 | complete | mature

“You guys lost too?”

“Nope. Believe it or not Silent Hill is my actual destination.”

- The Silent Hill Au Literally no one asked for but you're getting anyway.

far too young to die (part one) by @catsbrak | 17/17 | complete | explicit

Eighteen year old seamster Eddie Kasprak is forced to put his survival skills to the test when he’s selected in the reaping for the 27th Annual Hunger Games, where twenty-four young ‘tributes’ who are gathered from each of the twelve districts must fight to the death. Eddie forms close bonds, his priorities undergoing a drastic shift, and he instead takes on a more difficult task: to try and protect his friends.

(in other words, the reddie hunger games AU no one asked for, and everyone will hate me for)

Kryptonite by hoeziertozier | 13/13 | complete | explicit

‘Richie looked down and scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “There’s a reason I came to New York.”

“Isn’t it because of your job?”

“Yeah, but there’s a reason I specifically chose New York. I mean, it’s Wonder Boy’s home.”

Eddie choked on air. For the first time in ages, he wanted to use his inhaler. “What?“

"Yeah, I’m kinda obsessed with him. He’s, like, my idol.”

So, his new roommate was his superhero persona’s fanboy. Yep, that was definitely not going to be a problem.’

Or, the self-indulgent Superhero!Eddie and Superfan!Richie AU that literally nobody asked for.

Just Survive Somehow by @s-s-georgie | 21/21 | complete | mature

When the world ended, and the dead rose to eat the living, it turned into kill or be killed, but how do you survive when the creatures around you are constantly evolving?

Wishes by strictlyamess | 14/14 | complete | mature

It's one thing to vacation at the Happiest Place on Earth with all your friends.

Working there with them is another thing entirely.

(or: the Disney World Employee/Cast Member AU written by a former Disney World Cast Member that some people asked for but most did not)

Operation: Hawaii Honeymoon by @tinyarmedtrex | 9/9 | complete | mature

A plan formed in Eddie’s head. One that would benefit them both. “Does your ex have an instagram?” Eddie asked. Eddie shook his head. “Do you want to make her jealous?”

“More than anything.”

“Hear me out then.” Eddie said, plunging forward even though he knew his idea was ridiculous. “What if you came to Hawaii with me? We’ll act like the perfect couple- she’ll get jealous, maybe want you back, and Myra will have to accept that I’m gay and will leave me alone.”

Richie looked up at him, a noodle dangling out of his mouth. “What?”

[ or Eddie and Richie meet on a plane to Hawaii and strike up a deal. Pretend to be lovers to make Richie’s ex-girlfriend jealous and convince Eddie’s ex-fiance Myra that he’s gay. What could go wrong?]

Inexhaustible Source of Magic by @jem-carstairs-is-perfection & @tinyarmedtrex | 17/17 | complete | teen 

The Triwizard Tournament is back at Hogwarts and this time, two students from each school will be chosen to participate. When Richie Tozier and Eddie Kaspbrak are elected by the Legendary Goblet of Fire to compete, they must come together as a team and overcome their differences to prove to themselves and to others what they are capable of.

ask me to stay by @richietoizer | 7/7 | complete | teen

“Your lip is all busted,” Eddie said, as though pointing out that Richie’s lips were injured would somehow make it okay that Eddie was paying attention to them. Richie’s hand came up, long fingers wrapping around Eddie’s tiny wrist, and he gently guided Eddie’s touch away.

Eddie finally wrenched his eyes away from Richie’s lips and met his best friend’s gaze. There was a softness there that he rarely got to see, not even the smallest hint of teasing or joking there. It was just Richie, just Richie looking at him and Eddie looking back. For a single moment, it was just Richie and Eddie alone in the world. Nothing to bother them, nothing to live up to.

[or: the year is 1994, and Eddie Kaspbrak is in love.]

Sex, Money, Murder by @studpuffin | 8/8 | complete | explicit

“The only sin is mediocrity.” ― Martha Graham

the years go by like days by georgiestauffenberg | 4/4| complete | mature 

It’s Eddie he wants to get a hold of, though, and he does, tucking him under his arm, and ruffling his hair, making him laugh. He’s startled when Eddie looks at him with such happy, shining eyes. And, for a split-second, he’s tempted to kiss him right then, right there in front of everyone.

He wants to. Badly. He doesn’t.

He leans in, instead, and he smacks a loud, wet kiss to Eddie’s cheek, punctuating it with a “mwah!” He does it again and again. “I’m so proud of my little Eds Spagheds!”

“Get off me!” Eddie says, laughing and shoving him away, swatting at his hands.

AU. in the 27 years in-between, Richie and Eddie forget a lot, but they don't forget each other.

Fall Away From Me (I Just Can’t Take It) by @thelazyeye | 6/6 | complete “ explicit 

It’s okay, though, Eddie tells himself. It’s all fine. This is part of their arrangement. This is a casual thing they have going. It’s his own stupid fault for catching feelings for someone he agreed to casually fuck. Especially when that person is his best friend from childhood.

It Was Always You by eddie_kaspbraktozier | 12/12 | complete | teen

Eddie, miraculously, survives the fight with Pennywise. Richie is still hopelessly in love with him, even after all of these years. As Richie stays with Eddie to help him with his recovery and divorce, he tries to find the courage to tell Eddie his true feelings.

Eddie wakes up after the fight with Pennywise to realize his whole life has been a lie – his asthma, his marriage, god, his whole adult life. Although now, Eddie is finally free to decide what he wants out of life. Eddie slowly comes to realize his feelings for his best friend.

Told in alternating point of views – Richie and Eddie’s.

OR

IT Chapter Three. The ending we deserve.

IDK, spooky stuff by varnes | 3/3 | complete | explicit 

“You’re a ghost hunter, aren’t you?” Georgie reminded him. “And he’s a ghost, or something. So obviously the police won’t find him, but you guys can, with all your equipment. You can find him and make the murders stop.”

From the couch, Richie’s whole face was lit up with delight. That was always a bad sign.

“I don’t know, Georgie,” Bill said, but before he could get the words all the way out, Richie was leaping up and yanking the phone out of his hand.

“Murderous ghost circus performer, love it, love it,” he announced. “Georgiekins, say no more, not one word, we are absolutely going to come bust the shit out of this clown.”

-

Or: the quasi-BFU AU where Bill, Stan, Bev and Richie go to Derry to hunt a ghost. Featuring a one-armed boy out for revenge; a Tiny Smol hotel clerk who can't decide if he wants to fight Richie or marry him; The Hot Fireman From LA?!; a local librarian who just wants to read books to children in peace; and, of course, Pennywise the clown.

[lothioriien]

richie tozier and his zoomer teen: headcanons

A/N: I tried keeping this as gender neutral as possible, but idk it’s a lil implied that the kid’s a girl. i’m trying to learn how to write gender neutral stuff :”)

By teenager, I mean around 16-17! High school age!!

Enjoy!

Sometime in the early 2000s, famous comedian Richard Tozier went to a party and came home with a woman.

oh yeah they deffo got it on that night

But that was a one night stand kind of thing, and Richie didn’t have any contact with her until about a year later.

He got up the couch one early evening to the ringing of his doorbell, and found a basket and a bag filled with baby food, diapers, and clothes perched on his doorstep

And in the basket? A small child, an apology note from the mother, and a birth certificate with his name listed as the father.

Oh boy did his life completely change after that.

It was him and the child, against the world.

but let’s skip the details on him struggling to take care of an infant first and move on a bit to when the kid’s older.

You, of course, are the baby that was left on his doorstep, and Richie tried to be the best father he could be despite his touring career as a comedian.

He’d bring you to the shows, even if you didn’t understand a thing that went on, though eventually when you’d help him write some material when you were older.

Constantly touring with him as a kid meant you were homeschooled. But that didn’t stop you from having a social life. You’d be friends with a lot of his fellow comedians, and John Mulaney was your ultimate favorite friend of his.

you just loved the very tall and gangly twelve year old looking man named uncle john.

Your academic life though was not too bad. You’re pretty intelligent, but when it came to maths, oh boy.

As a kid, you’d ask Richie constantly about math. He’d hate the school curriculum you had because math was different back when he was younger. He’d always help you, but it was mostly the internet just teaching you both.

You’d introduce him to vines (through iconic vine compilation videos), but mostly because he was so confused with this new language you were speaking.

Eventually he’d say some vines back to you and it’d come off so weird cause he’s a 40 year old white dad. You love him, nonetheless, and appreciate the effort

A lot of your instagram stories or snapchat stories are you filming him as you sing “You are my dad! You’re my dad! Boogie woogie woogie!”

He found it cute at first, where he would smile at you hiding behind your phone and hug you after cause dang he loves his kid so much and would die for you

then later, he’s evidently so annoyed because you do it constantly. As in he takes off his glasses, puts his head in his hands and just sighs so loudly.

When tiktok became the new vine, you were on the app every single day, making it a goal of yours to become tiktok famous.

You’d force your dad to do tiktoks with you

“I love my daddy. he is my superhero”

“Famous relative check!”

BUT THE PERFECT AUDIO

“Don’t look at me like that.” “YOU’RE MY DAD. BOOGIEWOOGIEWOOGIE!”

Gaining some clout because he is a pretty famous comedian 👀

Saying “ok boomer” to him when he’d annoy you

But then he’d clap back by being like “What the fuck Y/N. I was born in 1976, i’m not that old.”

“Yeah but sometimes you think like a boomer.”

“Ok, zoomer.”

“Dad. No. Get out.”

He’s really chill with you swearing. You definitely got that habit from him.

“What the actual fuck, Richard.”

“At least have the fucking decency to call me dad, Y/N.”

He got you into video games at a young age. Every time there was a new console or a new interesting game out, you’d both be up early to go out and get the said console/game.

And in each game you’d play, there would be hilarious commentary.

it’s basically that video with bill hader playing god of war with conan but imagine that and a zoomer’s feral energy combined.

He also got you into becoming a cinephile. Though unlike him, you read the books before watching the movie.

Marathoning a bunch of tv series together and you can never watch any new episode without him. Friday nights were reserved especially for it.

Richie can’t fucking cook for the life of him. Growing up, it was always take out, pizza, instant noodles, or mac and cheese.

He tried learning how to cook, he really did. But it was just so bad that eventually you’d learn how to do it. Then you’d try to teach him how too.

But did he get better as a cook?? Not really.

He once accidentaly set almost the whole kitchen on fire when he tried making pasta when you were 15.

“DAD, YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO PUT WATER IN THE POT FOR PASTA.”

“HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW THAT? I JUST WANTED TO DO SOMETHING SPECIAL FOR YOU!”

“I APPRECIATE THE GESTURE BUT PLEASE DON’T EVER TRY TO COOK AGAIN.”

The following morning, he got up and learned how to make pancakes with sausages, bacon, and eggs.

It was damn good, and by far the best thing he ever made.

So his pancakes became a regular thing.

On casual dinner nights at home, he’d let you have a drink with him and be drinking buddies. He taught you how to drink and be safe with drinks (cause we stan a protective father amirite)

Speaking of protective father, he’d be so picky and open about the people you’d date

“Really Y/N? That person? They’re fucking trash and you know it. You deserve better, sweetie.”

“But dad. They’re hot.”

“That’s still a no from me, kiddo.”

Having the most random, yet somehow meaningful conversations with Richie, yet roasting him at the same time.

“Y/N, do you think I would be classified as a papi by people.”

“No. You still wear hawaiian shirts over a t-shirt. You’re too tacky for that. You’re a papa, not a papi.”

But somehow, you also adopt his fashion style?

Cause hawaiian shirts are pretty cool? Very John Deacon ala 80s aesthetic?

And then he roasts you back from the time you called him tacky.

“Respect the drip, Richard.”

Even though you always poke fun at each other, you guys are actually so open with each other and just talk about anything and everything.

Oh no when you first got your period, he was panicking and nearly bought the entire aisle of pads and tampons because he was so clueless

Meeting the Losers Club was exciting and nerve-wracking at the same time. You didn’t know what to expect of them or what they’d expect from you.

You clung to your dad the whole time, watching him reunite with his childhood friends. Each one of them had a look of surprise and confusion the moment they laid their eyes on you.

They found you to be like a mini-me of Richie, as both of you were clad in printed/hawaiian shirts and glasses.

“Jeez, Richie. Why’d you decide to bring a fucking clone of yourself?” asked Eddie.

“That’s my kid, you dumbass! Eddie, this is Y/N.”

“No shit, you have a kid! You got married, dipshit?”

“No, uh, it’s just them and me.”

You decided to butt in jokingly, “Joe was in the picture for a while too,”

“Joe? Who the fuck is Joe?” The minute Eddie asked this, Richie knew what was coming next.

“Joe mama.” Thus receving a high five from your father and a groan from Eddie.

at first, everyone else would not believe Richie ‘Trashmouth’ Tozier had his very own kid, but the minute you started to get comfortable and joke around, it really clicked for them.

“There’s no doubt they’re Richie’s kid. Look at them! They’re basically a carbon copy of him!” Eddie would have exclaimed.

You‘re very liberal and open-minded, supporting the LGBT+ community and such, but you didn’t really know Richie’s stance on it.

Perhaps it was because he’d been surpressing his feelings for a specific boy from his childhood for almost his entire life, and he didn’t really talk about that topic so much.

But when you saw the chemistry between your dad and Uncle Eds, you sensed a little something there on both ends.

always saying a specific vine under your breath when you see them “two bros, chilling in a hot tub, five feet apart cause they’re not gay” (thank you to for this hc)

OKAY UNCLE EDS LIVES IN THIS AND HE’S DEFFO A BIG PART OF YOUR LIFE AFTER ONE SPECIAL TRIP TO DERRY, MAINE.

You’d say the vine so much, Richie eventually heard it and pulled you aside.

“Y/N, I- how did you know?”

“Know what dad?”

It took a little while for him to come up with the proper words to say. How was he gonna break this to you?

“Y/N..honey, I’ve had feelings for your Uncle Eds ever since we were kids. I-i don’t know, it really scared me as a kid to feel that way so I never talked about it. I guess what I’m trying to say is, kiddo, I’m gay.”

“Huh? I thought you were American?”

the man was basically on the verge of tears. He was so tense, he almost forgot to breathe. But the moment you hugged him and told him that it’s okay, that you love him so much, and that you’re so proud of him, he wrapped you in the biggest bear hug and cried. You cried too.

A/N: Imma end it here for now :)

So sorry it took forever!! I hope you enjoyed!!

Let me know if you want a part 2! 🤪

[playitaagain]

in gentle moments

a mayward miniseries

masterlist

Part 8 of 9

sloppy kisses at the corners of someone’s mouth.

JJ doesn’t really know how he ended up with someone so smart, but Pope rattles facts off like they’re nothing and JJ is sure he’d be able to win Jeopardy if he ever got on the show. For now though, JJ was simply impressed by the fact his boyfriend was going to graduate school and was considering getting a PhD after. It left JJ with a lot of bragging to do. 

“Fuck man, why the hell don’t you just marry this guy already.” 

The comment comes from one of his coworkers at the garage (a surprising and unexpectedly accepting group of people) when JJ is off chatting about Pope’s first day of graduate school. The coworker - Will- was one of his closer friends at the garage and even attended Pope’s graduation party only a few months ago. He was one of the few JJ had been nervous about when he first started, wondering if he’d have a problem with JJ dating another man, but he ended up being the most supportive of the group, even yelling at one or two of the guys who grumbled a bit when the word eventually got back to them that they’re coworker was very gay and very much so in love with his best friend, who was a male. 

The words toss around in his head for days after that. What if he asked Pope to marry him? JJ had never really seen himself getting married, but he also never saw himself getting off the island, finding someone who loved and supported him. He was sure as a teenager that he would end up miserable and alone. 

He comes to the conclusion three weeks later that he’s going to ask Pope to marry him. 

He doesn’t really have a plan. He ends up calling John B up and asking for advice but he’s a bit clueless and JJ ends up calling Kie instead. It’s maybe a mistake because she simply gushes over the phone and tells him that he’ll know the right time to propose. Neither of his friends are very helpful, but both insist that Pope will say yes and that does ease some of his nerves. 

(Because sometimes he still thinks Pope will leave, will realize that he isn’t worth the time and effort, realize he’s broken beyond repair. He wouldn’t blame him either, because he knows he doesn’t deserve this but he was going to hold on for dear life.) 

He freaks out over it a bit, trying to figure out what the heck to do until he realizes that he doesn’t need to really do anything. Pope wouldn’t want some big proposal. He’d just want a quiet night with the two of them and JJ goes about making the night special without making it obvious. 

He chooses one of the nights that they cook together. Pope is happy and cheerful when he gets back from work (volunteer tutoring because he gets Wednesday off from his internship at the morgue) and he goes about putting his stuff away before he joins JJ in the kitchen with a kiss on the cheek. 

JJ has all the ingredients out so he’s prepared when Pope comes home and the two go about getting everything ready, moving around each other in an easy, practiced dance. It’s only when the food is in the oven and they’ve fallen onto the couch for a break that Pope turns to him with a smile. “Why’d you choose one of my favorites tonight?” 

“I thought it would be a nice surprise,” JJ answers. It’s only part of it but JJ was trying not to give away that he had a ring hidden away and he was planning on asking tonight. Pope is satisfied with the answer though and rewards him with a deep kiss that promises a nice night. 

The night goes pretty easily after that. They talk about Pope’s day over dinner and he excitedly talks about some of his younger kids, how much progress they’ve made since the beginning of the year. JJ listens to him intentently, probably a little love struck but Pope just smiles and keeps going. JJ washes the dishes after dinner and pulls out some pastries from the one of their favorite bakeries, one of their first adventures when they moved to Boston for school. 

Pope smiles in surprise and the happy look on his face, the love on his eyes, has JJ asking before he even planned to. 

He doesn’t get on one knee. He simply sits across from Pope and takes his hands in his. He looks into those dark eyes he loves so much, smiling at the curious crinkle on Pope’s brow. 

“I had a whole speech planned but I honestly forget when you smiled at me,” JJ starts with a nervous laugh, because yeah, he practiced his speech in the mirror but he doesn’t really remember his speech. He’s always been good at winging it though. 

“I don’t know how I got this lucky because I wasn’t supposed to leave that island. I wasn’t supposed to have this life, but then I met you. You made me realize I could have this life and then I realized I wanted this life with you and you made me realize I could have this life with you. I couldn’t believe that you kissed me back that day you got your acceptance letter because I didn’t think I deserved it, deserve you, but you always make me feel like I do, like I’m special. I don’t know much about life, but I do know I want to be with you for the rest of mine. So, will you marry me?” 

He can see the tears in Pope’s dark eyes, waits with bated breath. Pope doesn’t say anything at first though, lunges forward and misses his lips, and kisses the corner instead, messy but radiating happiness before he pulls away. 

“Yes! I love you,” Pope says and suddenly JJ is crying as he pulls Pope into a bone crushing hug, laughing with happiness. 

He stays like that till he realizes he doesn’t have the ring and he hurries off, not answering Pope’s curious gaze as he rummages through the junk drawer in the kitchen and pulls a box out from the back. 

Pope is laughing when he comes back, slipping the simple gold band onto his finger. The smile on Pope’s lips is irresistible and now he is the one missing, kissing the corner of Pope’s lips with a laugh. He’s too happy to care as he pulls Pope into another hug.

@ronnieweasley​​ @dreamypope​​ @pope-obx​​ @thistreasurehunter​​ @midsommers​​  @eddie-and-richie​​ @robbingthebank​​  @frenchmarshmalloww​​  @lionhearttedgrrl​​  @asteroid575​​  @drewswannabegirl​​ @rainforestrat​​ @loveop5500​​ @laorbust01​​  @hmspogues​​  @babygirl-thewriter​​  @verified-dumbass​​ @spideymyluv​​ @charlie-theduckgoose​​  @walker-friendly​​  @psycho-dork​​  @katie-mcgreat​​​ @heartbelongs2zouis​​​  @ethereal-honeygold​​​  @shreckluver7​​​ @elegantmail​​​  @shipperssafehaven​​​  @magmavee @kingnae@originalstarlighttiger @angelbeee @the-pogues @halfkook @lemon-patches

If you want to be added or taken off the tag list please let me know!

[tinyarmedtrex]

You should write a fic where Richie and Eddie secretly get married before they go off to college and then forget each other and then when Eddie and Myra try to get married they can’t cause Eddie is already married.

“I can’t believe that you would do this to us Eddie! I thought you wanted this! Have you been lying to me this whole time?” Myra wailed next to Eddie, sobbing on the arm of the couch, as she had been for the last twenty minutes.

“Myra! I didn’t do anything! I don’t even know who this guy is!” He stared down at the piece of paper with a name- Richie Tozier. The guy he was supposedly married to. But there was no way, Eddie had never even met a Richie, let alone married one. It made no sense. 

Besides he wasn’t gay, he was marrying Myra. He knew this and yet the very official looking paper from the licensing bureau said otherwise. 

“Two weeks Eddie! We’re supposed to be married in two weeks!” She sobbed. Eddie had to hold himself back from snapping at her. She was acting like he had cheated on her, like this was the worst thing anyone could ever do rather than listening to him. 

“I’ll call my mom.” He said, unsure what else to do. The license said he’d only been 18 so he would have still been living at home, maybe she would know something.

At this, Myra perked up, her tears suddenly drying up. “Oh do put her on speaker Eddiekins, I love talking to your mom.”

Eddie suppressed a shudder at this but did as he was told. His mom answered on the third ring, “Eddie, baby, it’s been too long.” Her voice was cloying sweet as always. “Did you get sick again?”

“Sonia, he’s had this cough-” Myra tried to cut in but Eddie stopped her.

“Ma, I need to ask you something.” He didn’t want this to turn into a discussion about symptoms that he didn’t even have. 

“Eddie don’t interrupt your wife. Happy wife happy life right?” Both the women tittered and he had to stop himself from rolling his eyes.

“Ma, please. We went to get our marriage license and-”

“Oh Eddie. I’m so excited for you! What a wonderful step this will be. You two make such a lovely-”

“Ma!” Eddie barked into the phone, earning a shocked look from Myra. He forced himself to soften his voice. “Please, listen. The agency said that I was already married, to Richie Tozier? Do you know who that is?”

Sonia was quiet for a moment and Eddie was about to apologize for snapping. But then she spoke, her voice cold.

 “Of course I do Eddiekins. That dirty boy, always hanging around you. I think he used to sneak inside your window too but I never caught him. I’m surprised you don’t remember him, you spent all your time with him and those other awful children. I hate him, banned you from seeing him but it never worked. You never listened to me Eddie.” She sighed like he was such a burden. He wasn’t listening to her tone though, the words had shifted something in him and a memory jolted to life. Him with six others kids, a gangly boy at his side.

“He sounds awful!” Myra said, looking at Eddie with astonishment. “Why did you spend time with him?”

“I don’t even remember him!” He hated being blamed for something that, as far as he knew, never even happened.

“You two,” Sonia sighed. “He never left your side. Even took you to prom. Well the church hated that as you can imagine. The scandal.” 

Eddie frowned, trying to remember anything. “Wait were we-” A flash of something, thick coke bottle glasses and buck teeth. “Together?” He didn’t remember dating anyone before Myra. 

“Maybe. You wouldn’t have told me if you were.” Sonia’s voice was full of self pity. “You hid so much from your dear mother and I only ever tried to protect you. You know Eddie he had you sneaking out of your room. Can you imagine? What if you had fallen? He was a dirty boy Eddie, no good for you.” 

Sonia kept talking but Eddie had fallen into a memory. He was sixteen, crouched in his window sill, someone was telling him to jump but he couldn’t. He was too scared.

“Come on Eds, I’ll catch you. I always do.” 

“Fuck off Trashmouth, I’ll do it when I’m ready!” 

He knew suddenly that he’d jumped. He had trusted that voice, whoever it was. 

“Eddie are you even listening?” Myra asked, pinching his arm. “Your mother asked you where she’d be seated for our wedding.”

“Oh I- table one Ma, like you asked.” He handed his phone to Myra, needing a minute to recover. The two women kept talking but Eddie was distracted by the sudden image of a curly haired boy in his head, of the two of them holding hands, kissing. 

He pressed his palms to his eyes, confused how he couldn’t have forgotten all of this. His mother remember it all so clearly but for Eddie it was blank, like someone had erased the memories.

Knowing that the women would talk for a while he wandered to his computer and searched for Richie Tozier. What came up was a loud mouthed radio DJ in Chicago. Eddie flipped through pictures of him, hoping more would come back to him but nothing did. 

“Eddie bear,” Myra called, causing him to snap his laptop shut. She wandered into the living room, sitting next to him. “You’ll handle this right baby? I can trust you to fix this?” 

“Of course Myra.” She tapped his cheek and he pressed a kiss there, swallowing down how much it reminded him of his mother. “I need to go to Chicago.”

“What?” She squawked, indignant. “Why?”

“That’s where this Richie guys lives. We have to do this in person.” He didn’t know if that was true but he had to see Richie, had to know if these memories were real, if Richie remembered him. “Just for the weekend.” He promised. 

She pursed her lips but nodded. “Pack warm, you know how cold that place is.”

He nodded. “Of course.” She started listing all the things he’d need, all his medications. He nodded along dutifully but he wasn’t listening. He was thinking about the name next to his on this marriage license and the boy from his memories. He was thinking about Richie. 

@spastuetheobsessedphylosopher @chaotickaspbrak​ @wheezyeds​  @constantreaderfool​ @purplepoisonedgem​  @queen-sock  @pink-psychic @bowersgangvslosersclub​ @jem-carstairs-is-perfection​  @reddie-to-cryy​ @moonlightrichie​  @eduardoandale​ @anellope​ @inthebreadbinwrites @sparklingrainbowdragon​ @madi-personal @lifesucksheres20bucks​ @appojoos​ @upsidedownlosers​ @thorn-harvester-ven​ @eddiefuckinkaspbrak​ @andaleduardo @xandertheundead @state-of-longing​ @fandomgirllover​ @adhdtrashmouth @rielysian​ @uppperteeeth @s-s-georgie​ @for-peanutbutter​ @tobobeebub​ @edstozler​ @s-onora​ @notmyspaghetti​ @twoidiotsinl0ve​ @spirited-marvel​ @lover-mouth  @roobarrtrashmouth​ @njess04​ @wilding-throught-thehallways​ @star-gore​ @gloire-celeste​ @stansbooty​ @reddieobsessed @myeverythingisyourstruly​ @onlykatelyn​ @no-she-wasnt-reddie​ @isabelleritma​ @gczebos​ @ransonelovebot @stanleuyris​ @kasp-brakz​ animalfacts  @spastuetheobsessedphylosopher @animalfacts

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Hobbit Soulmate Pt 37

“You’re doing it again,” Tracy said once in the set with you for your next scene post lunch you’d mostly read through while Lee continued to bask in the hype of the news of how his film was doing numbers wise. Head turned your eyes fell on her and she said, “You are sulking. Are you sleeping?”

“Ya,”

Inching closer she asked in a try to be playful tone to ease out a smile from you, “Your teddy bear miss a phone call?”

“No, Richard called and messaged twice yesterday.” Her brows arched up through a smirk and you sighed, “He hid something in the closet. Spent weeks making sure I didn’t ‘know’ anything was there under his clothes and he left and now the cubby is empty.”

Her hand planted on your arm, “Oh, like a second phone? Or something?”

“Lee said he saw him at a jewelers in town while I was in New York for my table reads.”

“Oh,” she said with tone perking up.

“And I don’t even expect gifts, but he’s gone for months away from me and he left me a sweater and I’m trying not to pout at not getting the gift he’s so terrible at hiding that he has for me, but,” after a quick sigh you said, “A gift would have been nice.”

That had Tracy giving you a hug, an action luring Lee’s gaze from across the set to you and your moment of allowing your sunken expression read across your face, “Honey bunny, maybe it’s a welcome home to England present for when you see him again. I knew he was up to something, he is terrible at hiding things from you, even my sharing I was taking you for a manicure he was ready to explode for our weekend out while he was off on those night shoots.”

“I’ll be fine, and I’ll stop sulking.” She chuckled again and rubbed your back walking with you across the fake bar for your first marks and where she could find her drink covered tray prepped and ready to go.

“If my teddy bear left the country with the chance of more than a sweater I’d be sulking too. Don’t you feel bad, besides, I don’t think I’ve seen you with more than those studs in your ears since I’ve known you. You need some bling girl.”

“I really do,” you said twisting the ring on your left ring finger of metal flowers for this role feeling the necklace cold against your skin shifting under the collar of your furry collard coat once again.

.

All over the news the footage of the Oscars was being replayed, namely the clip from Adrien’s award for Lead male when he forced a kiss upon Halle Berry making you bury your face in your hands. “Didn’t even ask,” Lee muttered at your shift to plop your covered face on his thigh.

On your other side Tracy said, “And you have to work with that asshole. I look forward to the press of you bashing his face in.”

Lee said, “You and me both,” rubbing your back.

Tracy, “I still don’t like him, and you have to kiss him? I wouldn’t kiss him.”

Turning your head you looked to the replay and sighed, “Certainly don’t want to, but it’s just the one scene if I can’t talk Peter out of it.”

The press certainly didn’t help and while given the equivalent of a wag of the finger Adrien celebrated the win as the youngest male to ever receive it for Lead Male. Three days after his ride of that press wave and interview circuit the truth came crashing down to news of who was hired to play Ann Darrow. One sigh was his response to the question from a photographer on his path out and about for what he thought of the news only doubling down the urge to break down the actor’s resolve to loathe your being part of the franchise at his side.

 *

“Fifteen bucks, you are telling me you bought those for fifteen bucks?!” Chris all but shouted when his brother displayed the rings upon their arrival at his home from the airport.

Richard just had to show someone and figured Chris would be the best ally in this as he had helped him patch things up with you every time he flubbed things. “I bought the cabinet I found them in, and,”

“Oh I heard that part. Still don’t get how the pair of you can luck into that. These are incredible, I mean she certainly deserves this ring. Just leaving the question,”

“Don’t ask me when, Joe loves the ring and knows I have it, I just have no bloody clue when I could possibly hand it over. And I’ve had it for weeks with her out in Canada and the only time I could actually get it on her finger was when she was asleep. How the hell am I supposed to find some mysterious ‘perfect’ way to ask her when she’s conscious to marry me?! You know me!”

Chris nodded and said, “You got a point,” turning his head, “I idea list, that’s what we can do!” Crossing the room to fetch a notepad and pen.

.

Five episodes on Ultimate Force to the infidelity casual Cold Feet role the slump of one kiss after another not feeling right or orders to strip and redress again and again for those not you only deepened for Richard while growing ready for his next role. A tv mini series called Between the Sheets, another unfaithful role and one with the biggest drama and to his impression depth to the character also doubled for his most sexual. From a faked blow job to his several love scenes with the lead female to whom his character was married worry seemed to bubble up concerning what impressions would be once it aired. All the way from his parents to you and friends who might think it was the wrong choice of roles. Calls to you however seemed to bolster his hopes you might like it and not be jealous or upset of his behavior with another.

“Today was odd,” he sighed through the line on his phone call to you.

“Oh I think whatever it was it will be amazing.” You teased back mid swipe of your sponge over the dish you were cleaning with phone pressed to your shoulder.

“My co-star raked her nails across my butt cheeks, at least the sex scenes and my arrest are over with, now I just have my breakdown scene where I reveal my infidelity.”

“I’m beginning to think there’s a pattern growing in your roles, dying and dirty deeds.”

Lowly he chuckled, “Well I do play a good villain.”

“Oh psh, you wouldn’t hurt a paper swan.” Making his smile creep wider imagining your smile and what you might be wearing, “I am glad you will have tons of work coming out so we can have some more parties for you. I do love celebrating you Richy Bear.”

“I love you,” he hummed smile locked wider at the nickname knowing the smirk you always had when you said it. “Can’t wait for you to be back here. How’s the show?”

“Uh, tad bit insensitive and a touch racist but it’s certainly unique for a resume. Spring scenes should be better, even have that kid from Disney, Spenser something, has a spot on the show. I get to pin him to a wall.”

“Sounds like fun, I know it will be fantastic with you in it.”

“Either way I just can’t wait for it to be out already. It’s the waiting that will end me, ’05 is when it’s coming out, same as Kong but a few months earlier, over a year, Lee waited nearly three for his film.”

“We’ll just have to keep you distracted then won’t we?”

“Oh really now? And just how will you do that?” You asked drying your hands at the end of the dishes heading to your couch to lounge for the rest of the call feeling his smirk through the line.

 *

Another month hadn’t seemed to help things on that front with questions still lingering on how you could morph from one lead role to the next. Re-using your playful purple low dipping dress alone on Valentines Day you sat in the town car sent for you with hands interlocked on your lap waiting for this film to just be over. Eyes shut you forced yourself to relax in this communication lull of a supposed to be romantic holiday where you still had no bling to show off.

Brad and JLo fresh off their engagement alongside Jennifer Garner with a hopeful relationship on the horizon only made things worse on your painfully throbbing heart. Colin Farrell however seemed to save the day for you latching onto your bare side for the whole of the carpet at your reaching his location and even in the flash of the $1 Million triple pink diamond engagement ring on JLo’s finger made you grateful for the instant carpet buddy eager to catch up with you and hear about what you were up to in Canada after having seen your film twice now. Alone however your seat was bumped back to the row of extras who shared your curiosity on how little you would be fleeting across the screen of this film. Loud and boisterous at the club they had chosen for the after party the crowd helped in your slip out of the venue to hail a cab home to yet another empty apartment. Stretched out across your bed to wait for the time to leave and catch your flight to England where a late romantic morning bagel might help to make up for how you feel right now.

.

Right off your feet into a tight hug you were lifted. Still in your dress with Richard’s sweater and your coat over the dress hinting that you had to leave the party to make your flight in a rush down to the tall heels you had to take off for most of the day long flight. Already outside the cameras snapped away ready to spread that assumption when, post loving kiss, Richard took hold of your suitcase and duffel bag murmuring sweetly, “You bought a second bag.”

“Yes, seems I have picked up more clothes recently, and the shoes I got with the Jens didn’t help either.”

“I am just glad you have more things, I wasn’t fond of all your things fitting in one bag alone.” Leaning in he pressed another kiss to your forehead, “Let’s get you home, got a nice breakfast planned for you and day of relaxing before our table read tomorrow.”

Waiting on the set table a stuffed rhino sat beside a candle holder, around its head in a crown of sorts rested a silver bracelet with five round emeralds. “Happy late Valentines, they were out of roses,” he hummed lifting the bracelet that around the wrist he raised to lovingly secure it. Awkwardly a grin split across your face in the press of his lips to your palm and knuckles afterwards.

“It’s really beautiful, perfect gift, thank you, and I love the rhino too.” Spreading his own smile as you added, “My dad tell you I love emeralds?”

“Might have mentioned it,” he hummed back, “Sadly it was that one or some large joined bangle type design a bit too flashy I think for subway wearing for you to feel safe.”

“You would be right in that, bangles drive me a bit crazy too, have to wear some for the show. Thank you, really,” you said crashing into his chest for a tight hug he melted into holding you close to your murmur of, “Don’t know how you managed to keep this a secret so long.”

To himself he chuckled easing his arms more across your back, “Nearly killed me. I hate secrets from you.” His smile easing out more at your shift closer to his chest unaware of the much bigger jeweled secret hidden in his house Chris had aided in finding the least conspicuous place to put the rings. Time apart was shared in the joint task of fixing up a breakfast cuddled through and after. Lunch again was alone however supper happened to be part of a potluck ambush from the Armitage brood here to welcome you back again and plan out more time together.

.

Back in sweaters, boots and jeans you and Richard were off for the day. Hand in hand through the building you were directed to you arrived at the desk outside the appointed room where a smiling aid showed you both inside the lounge filled with couches and armchairs facing inwards towards the rug coated area in the center clearly for acting out the scenes if need be with named binders on each cushion. Tucked in one of the loveseats you and Richard were assigned your spots nearest to the director and with her darting off to fetch you some tea the binders were lifted to allow you to settle in. With a bashful grin between you at being the only ones here so far. “I think we might be a bit too early.”

“No such thing,” he hummed smiling at you then to the door as it opened again.

Through it Anna Martin, playing Bessy Higgins came through the door with a relieved sigh, “Not too late then, got stuck in that roundabout, vans wouldn’t let me over, Anna,” she said crossing the room with hand extended shaking Richard’s hand first in his quicker pop up then yours.

“Richard,”

“Jaqi, hi.” Releasing her hand to say, “Bessie, right?”

“Yes, I could have sworn you were British, but I must have seen you with several accents in your work.”

Richard chuckled, “Halfway at least by our math.”

“I do spend a good bit of the year here had tons of time to pick up the accents.”

Kay Lyon was next beside Brendan Coyle, playing Mary and Nicholas Higgins with the latter muttering about the same roundabout then joined in on the introductions. Brian Protheroe was next for Mr Bell followed by the two Thorntons finishing up Richard’s on screen family, Sinéad Cusack and Joy Joyner. Tim Pigott-Smith, Pauline Quirke, Lesley Manville, Rupert Evans filled in your family, Richard, Dixon, Maria and Frederick for the Hale household. For the Lennox brood Travis Oliver, John Light and Emma Ferguson were to be the captain, Henry and Edith. Jane Booker for Mrs Shaw led in the Boucher brood played by William Houston, Caroline Pegg and Spencer Wild. Seats filled one by one and with tea handed out the Director smiled taking their seat beginning their welcoming speech to open the first scene when the work was to get going.

One week this room was your daily stop with the floors below used to help each of you with your first fittings for your outfits through the show. Hair and makeup tests were next and surprised by the stretch of your curls a lovely few choices to pick from the team loved with ample spots for your unruliest of curls to slip out and dangle around your head gracefully helping with the scenes you would be playing exhaustion. Playful twists at Richard’s side fluffed and twirled your skirts luring the blushing grin from the top hat wearing brooder formerly scowling in focus while apart from you. Clearly the brooding surly side to John he had down, for everyone else it was how Richard looked at you adoringly between speaking to others that melted doubts on how convincing the blossoming love would show on screen.

.

Broken hearts came first, amid the drama of the brewing strike ready to bubble over courting another woman and pained glares came from Richard. Curt interactions and gruff inquiries and responses out of John to Margaret while he meant to uncover why she was not choosing to share her troubles with him. This was post betrayal when he deemed her to have been free with showing affections to some mystery man you’d yet to film yet, starting right in the pain of it all to bubble out to both the beginning and end while the country turned greener again when Spring came back around. Some might have imagined it to be rough to split from that harsh contrast, those who did not notice each teasing smile or face from you tearing a chuckle filled smile from Richard between the blush inducing pecks you stole on toe top pecks on his nose with each hushed argument.

The darkest of scowls came on the day the strike would break and if you hadn’t stayed close to show how much of a teddy bear Richard was the other men, especially Boucher who ‘threw’ the stone to knock Margaret unconscious in front of the mob in her try to save John from the harm’s way she pushed him into. Five takes of the brewing stress came with ease after the first try to see Richard not jump the rail and rush to throttle the actor. A rubber stone by a staff member above on a camera platform who lined up the toss to hit the spot a hidden makeup artist would sneak out once you’d done the collapse take enough times to play out the sprawled position for the streak of blood along your hairline. A task filled with hushed giggles from you until action was called again for Richard to lift you up and carry you inside again.

From this the next week would be scenes apart to meet up at the wardrobe building on the way to supper. The depression of the winter months and hardships of the funeral scenes bubbled to just one. In the midst of filming the scenes of the Hales arrival to Milton giggles slipped out between jokes traded between you and the female cast members who had been buried and still showed up to work still. Hints of green on the first flowering bushes outside had Richard smiling knowing that the romantic ending was coming up along with that devastating refusal or marriage for John he hoped to be the only time he would get a refusal to a proposal from you. He never had the thought pop into his head before, there wasn’t a reason for you to refuse to marry him. True it’d just been a slightly teasing glimmer in the distance with close friends and relatives but forever was his goal and to his own mind he had made that apparent. Now the question had bubbled up again of how.

Brendan smirking in your latest break between sets inched over in the gentle blow you gave to the steaming tea helping to warm you up on the nippy end to winter. “You are actually adorable you know.” Having caught Richard’s stolen kiss on his way to head to his office for more scenes post street interaction with you.

Smiling up at him you said mid giggle, “Thank you, you are quite adorable yourself.”

Deeply he chuckled to himself and said, “I have to admit I was a bit intrigued to see how things would go between the pair of you with all that press around you and that brunette out in Canada.”

“Oh,” you said lowering your mug to let it cool accepting help from one of the aids taking your shawl to shake the fake cotton off the back of it, “That’s Lee, my best friend from Drama School, out in Canada we’re on a show together picking back up in the end of Spring.”

Anna who’d snuck up said, “That’s good to hear, you do make a perfect couple. Some guys I know would be up in arms over a flub like that.”

That had you giggle after another blow on your tea, “Well he knows Lee, we’re all good friends so I think that’s part of it. Plus he is a tad amused that he’s been called my Boy Toy,” making the pair chuckle as you giggled again, “We’ve gotten used to long distance and I suppose it really comes down to trust issues for guys, hell even one of the women on set, another of my former classmates who I’m rumored with. All just fluff, even they get giggles out of it.”

Brendan asked, “Boy Toy? They really looked at him and picked that?”

“Exactly his amusement. At least he didn’t take it as a demotion from Partner, just let them make up their own stories.”

On his own the title had been used by Brendan between takes with his scenes with Richard luring a blushing laugh from the lanky man meant to be towering over him helping to ease the tension from their scene, one of many of their battles of wills. By far helping to improve a friendship of sorts with one of his scene partners he spent the longest with aside from his fake family.

.

It was a Monday, like any other, but the big day had come, the day John’s heart and trust would shatter in Margaret and be seen with another man at night un-chaperoned in a loving embrace. The start of a trio of night shifts on the set had come and let Richard sneak in his plan. “Be right at the car, forgot my notepad.”

“Ok,” you said stepping out of the front door with his keys in hand, “I’ll start the car,” wiping your eyes still half asleep nothing seemed to be off in Richard’s double back to grab something, just what he needed. Post peek out the curtain on the window by the door he turned shifting the coat tucked in his arm hurrying to the spare bed. Off the top shelf high above where you could reach he pulled the two now wrapped ring boxes with notes on them. The one with the note for you he left in the center of the table with the second he settled in the cupboard above the fridge you wouldn’t bump into. Off the counter he grabbed the notepad tucking that under his arm to go and join your no doubt napping self already waiting for him in the car.

.

Betrayal was swiftly followed by refusal, in the brighter gray of the morning once the proposal turned argument with him storming right out of the set was the beginning and end of your shift. Ready to be out of your corset tears were close coming to blurring your vision for how emotional these scenes were and what you had to draw from to get to the reactions required. Out from the men’s wardrobe room eyes had shifted over Richard at his own anxious shuffling his way through getting dressed again and out to the hall to meet up to head home.

Awkward silence seemed to fall over the car between stops to pick up lunch from a fancier eatery than you frequented paired with a bottle of wine from there to go with the dinner. All the scents of the meal had you glancing over at Richard who glanced back with a flash of a wide smile then looked away again. “I think it went well today.” You squeaked out and he looked back with another smile.

“Everyone loved it. Yes, I think we really did the argument and the suspicion behind Frederick fleeing justice. Now we just have to do the hiding period where John can’t come inside only heightening things before the trips away to film the whole convention portion.”

“Ya, then we just have to kill off Mr Hale and do the whole Southern scenes before the big reunion scene at the station. Then I think it’s just more meddling from Mr Bell, right?”

“Yes, and your face off with John’s mother at the empty mill after my goodbye from Nicholas.” Again he looked you over asking, “You are enjoying this film?”

“Oh ya, no question about it. I mean I do miss the actual mental play by play from the book, especially John’s,” making him smirk at your hand tapping his arm, “You do impeccable with subtle things it’s just, I love the words it makes him so much more adorably soppy compared to his rough shell.”

“I get that,” he hummed back patting his hand on your knee not ready to take your hand to give away his thundering pulse. “I do love Margaret’s words over her own swooning. Plus I do miss the private moment where he clings to her after being struck in the head.”

A twinge more of the awkward was gone at his hand moving from the shifter to stroke his fingertips across your knee drawing shapes to distract himself ready to no longer have to live without the weight of that ring on his finger. This would be bold, insisting on wearing his ring as well for his own engagement ring and most likely could explode on the news when the press would catch onto the matching rings and assume that you had already run off and eloped. Which could be more likely in the next slew of auditions and the magazine spread you were to film that Peter had set up to your schedule for the cast of King Kong with another for you and Richard around the Beast of Bards film and its progress so far in theaters. But that all came after his having to ask the question.

You did as you always did, taking the bag of food while he grabbed the wine, sturdier hands when it came to glass he followed you inside. With a smirk he failed to hold back right across his face hidden by his turn to lock the door saying practically in a hum, “If you’ll set out the food I’ll pop the wine.”

Behind you he crept smiling wider on your path to the table, inside the kitchen he set the wine bag down leaving his coat beside it to sneak the cupboard open to grab the wrapped box he palmed. His eyes fixed on your back for full view of the pause you took eyeing the box on the center of the table beside the candleholder you didn’t notice he’d put out the night before along with the special table setting. Carefully the bag was set down and to the box you moved lifting the indigo ribbon wrapped box with white paper coated in blue floral outlines and a note. ‘Give me to Richy Bear.’ A heart was drawn beside the words and lifting the box that adorable puzzled smirk he loved spread across your face.

Nice and confused into the kitchen you walked finding him looking you over, smile split free as you held out the box, “This is for you?”

“Thank you, trade you, my Dearest Love.” He said accepting his box for the one in his hand identically wrapped. ‘I pick the wine, you chose the spoons, My Dearest Love.’

Watching him your eyes narrowed with hold of the puzzling box while he eased the ribbon off his to pull the side of the paper off. His smile wide in his glance up to say, “Don’t wait for me,” back to the box in your hands your eyes dropped and with your free hand the end of the ribbon was undone to set aside with the note left on the counter. Out of the side of the folded paper you eyed the box inside keeping the lid side upright unwrapping the rest of the paper set aside too.

Upon opening his wrapping paper Richard blinked eyeing the message that was meant to be on your box alone Chris must have written across both. ‘Marry Me?’ Lifting the lid he flashed your way he hummed out in a means to pretend this was planned, “Of course I’ll marry you!” Instantly your eyes shot up and the distance was closed while you read the lid he was holding. Eyes eased shut for a lingering kiss that in the thunder of your heart almost had your knees give out.

In the pull back his eyes dropped to your box reading the same message that your free hand moved to take the lid off in his silent hint, the smile inducing rock inside found you gently reaching in with your fingers to ease it out. A task taken slower in noticing the top lifting up while he dangled his pouch from around his thumb. Richard smiled taking the box away to let you hold the geode box you eased open revealing a velvet pouch.

You must have skipped a second because in the view of the box Richard appeared in your view now on his knee with hands tenderly folded around your wrist making shapes in your skin asking, “Will you go on this adventure with me?”

“I love adventures,” you wisped out making his smile split wider.

“Well then open the pouch.” He hummed with eyes following your hand in his timid rise hoping he was doing this all perfect for you to look back on for years to come in claiming the geode box when you lifted the pouch.

Wide eyed you gawked at the ring, “You did not buy this!”

Your eyes met his and he shook his head, “Nope, you did.”

“Oh really? And how did I do that?” You asked with an instant playful challenging smirk to his deepening smile.

“I didn’t hunt down the old owner of that cabinet over some pens and a music box.” He drew out his ring showing you that one while sharing, “Hercule thought he lost these rings in that house fire. The geode box was inside that cabinet and that contract I told you about was about these rings. They were scuffed up and I took them to get cleaned and appraised.”

“Rich, how much is this ring?”

“No less than you deserve.” Your lips parted and he smiled saying, “They both have spoon engraved inside.” Again your smile split awkwardly out across your face.

“That’s why you wrote that note on mine, like their story.”

“Exactly,” he wet his lips and reached for the ring on your palm along with your left hand, purring, “You don’t want to wear it?”

“Rich you didn’t have to buy me a ring.”

“Yes I did, I wanted a ring! Be rude not to get you one to match.”

“Will it even fit? It’s huge.”

“It fits, you nearly didn’t give it back when I tried it on your finger.” He said easing it back onto your finger with eyes shining brightly as he did to your gasp.

“Where was I when that happened?”

“Sleeping,” he chuckled leaning in to kiss you again, just melting around you at the loop of your arms around his neck for the celebratory embrace lasting even after the kiss had ended, for a close eyed hug to cling to one another.

“I would have woken up if you put this on me.”

That made him chuckle into your shoulder, “You almost did, rolled over burying your hand into the pillow. You like it?” He murmured inching back to see your face.

“I love it, it’s still huge though.” In front of you he dangled his pouch that you smirked in accepting, “This is your ring?”

He nodded and said, “Which I plan on wearing.”

“Today?” You asked with a smile and he nodded.

“Right here, right now and every day from here out. You bought it for me and I intend on boasting endlessly.” Once out of the pouch this ring widened your eyes as well and he lifted his hand saying, “They’re absurdly big compared to what I could have afforded until Bard is out of theaters. But you have to admit, fifteen bucks for these second hand suits us.” Up his finger the ring slid and came to rest and he said, “If you must know, both are 24 karat white gold. My center emerald is seven carats and the onyx and diamonds are a half a carat each. While your emerald is eight carats and the diamonds and smaller emeralds are one carat each. That’s all I’m telling you about them, other than the jewelers I went to said when you want we could go there to design your wedding band, on which I was clueless.” He looked you over in your moment of pause, “What are you thinking for bands?”

“Well, my cousin we went to her wedding,” which he nodded at remembering the ceremony at the courthouse and party on the family land while you were filming Elektra before her husband shipped out so he could leave her charge of his property that wouldn’t go to his family. “She picked one of those eternity bands with hearts, I did like that design.”

His grin eased out again, “That sounds beautiful.”

“Though hers was nearly three grand,”

“Don’t you worry about the price. I have money saved up, money is not an issue.” His hands eased on your hips to draw you closer to his chest, “I know getting through school was so difficult, I’ve been scraping by too for a decade before I had even met you finding what I loved. I will always do my best to ensure that we have a solid financial footing, and I do know you are getting paid crazy amounts of money for your roles. Even if I never get another check like off of Bards, I will be here, and I will never use that as any sort of,” he sighed and said after wetting his lips. “I am so proud of you, and where some men may feel they have to be the bread winner even if you out earn me I will never let that get between us. And I will do all I can to make you not feel like you can’t depend on me to help fund our lives.”

“I never thought that. I would never.”

“I know, but it may come up for others, I couldn’t afford this ring on my own if not for having found it, but I do hope one day comfortably I might be able to afford one half as much as this without worry on bills around it once this Bard money is gone. So you pick the band you want and we’ll get it for you. If it helps your dad loves the rings.”

“How did you show him?”

“Sent him a picture when I got them cleaned. And I bet you he’s shown them around.”

“No wonder his voice has been squeaking, you made him wait months! And where the hell did you get that geode box?”

He chuckled again, “They were both in the geode box, they were scuffed up from it when I found it, so that’s why I left yours in the pouch. I’m gonna open the wine.”

“Right,” you said breaking your smile up at him, “Food,” you said turning back to setting the table for the start of the rest of the romantic evening until it was bedtime. Calls to family put a lot of people out of their joint misery and kicking the plans into a slow grind for what and when you might want a ceremony to be. And in cleaning up came the start of an adorable habit where you would tap his side or arm to say with a smile, “We’re getting married,” or “Fiancé,” always splitting a massive smile across his face in his move to scoop you up for a loving kiss and tons of cuddles.

That evening for another shoot however you stood looking at your ring through cooking before heading out, “We wear them to work, right? I mean we have those lockers, they seem pretty sturdy with cameras.”

“Other actors wear jewelry to work, we will be safe wearing them.”

The fact proven to be true from the sight of the new rings security took mental notes to mark you among the cast working with jewelry to have that locker room under surveillance ensuring that it remained off limits to those not assigned there. Cameras stationed outside the studio however with view of the parking garage on the way in and out honed in on the new sparkle on your finger mirrored by his in a wave to them upped the shadows on the path out the morning after.

Pt 38

Hobbit – Soulmate - @evyiione​​, @deepestfirefun, @rhaenaatargaryen, @anastasialovers

X all Rich. A - @abiwim​, @deepestfirefun​, @thestorybookmistress

X Lee P - @tigereyesf​

All –

@himoverflowers​, @theincaprincess​​, @aspiringtranslator​​, @thegreyberet​​, @patanghill17​​, @jesgisborne​​, @curvestrology​​, @alishlieb​​, @jogregor​​, @armitageadoration​​, @fizzyxcustard​​, @lilith15000​​, @marvels-ghost​​, @catthefearless​​, @imjusthereforthereads​​, @c-s-stars​​, @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore​​, @mariannetora​​, @shes-a-killer-kween​, @ggbbhehe4455

[stunt-lads]

what do you think happens with richie and ben after they leave derry in that one au that you wrote for me lol

(I’ll be nice and say the Losers don’t lose their memories again) 

When they leave Derry Richie is scared. He’s always nervous about being seen with Ben because it’s new. He breaks down and cries a lot, a few unflattering photos of him end up in the tabloids and Ben hurts when it happens. Rumors fly about him and Richie, especially since he moves in with Richie almost immediately after leaving Derry again. 

He doesn’t have to, it could have been any of them to keep an eye on him, but Bill was married, Mike wanted to travel, and Bev just didn’t have the time. But Ben did. And he feels like he needs to. 

He knows how vulnerable Richie is at the moment and he needs someone there, someone who will be there when he wakes up and goes to sleep. Even if Ben sleeps on the couch for the first few weeks, giving Richie his space. At least he’s there. 

And he meant what he said before, if Richie only wants and sees him as a friend then Ben will accept that. He doesn’t mind and he doesn’t hold it against anyone. He just doesn’t want to lose another important person in his life. 

So it’s a few weeks before Richie comes home fucking plastered. Ben has no idea why he went out and got drunk but now he has a sad drunk man on his hands. So he helps, he makes Richie drink a glass of water, shower, drink another glass of water, brush his teeth, piss, and get into bed with a third glass of water on the end table by his bed just in case he needs it. And he tries to leave after tucking him in but Richie grabs his wrist and Ben looks at him. Really looks. And he sees the tear tracks and he smiles sadly at Richie. 

“What’s wrong, Richie?” He asks, running his other hand through Richie’s hair.

“Don’ wanna be ‘lone.” His words are slurred and Ben sighs gently. 

“Let me clean up a little and then I’ll be right back.” And he sees the hesitation in Richie’s eyes, “I promise, Rich.” The nickname is important to him, he knows it in the way Richie’s face looks desperate for a moment, and Richie lets go finally, gently releasing Ben’s wrist. 

Ben leaves the room but comes right back after making sure the door is locked and doing his own nightly routine. He slides into the bed beside Richie, assuming he’s asleep, but he rolls to face Ben, eyes wide and visible even in the darkness of the room. 

“I miss Eddie.” He whispers so softly that Ben almost misses it. 

“I know you do, I do too. He was a good friend.” He reaches out and gently runs his hand through Richie’s hair before sliding his hand down and cupping his face gently. Rubbing his thumb along the stubble there. 

“I loved him so much Ben.” 

“I know.” 

“Do you think he knew?”

“Yes. I’m sure he did.” 

“I wish we could have seen Stan.” 

“Me too. I bet he would have beaten that clown without even trying.” 

Richie laughs at that, it’s just a soft huff of air but it’s something. 

“He would have yelled at it for making him go back to Derry at all.” 

“Yeah, he would have. He would have thrown his phone at Its head and called it a day.” 

“Eddie would have been braver if Stan had been there.” 

“Eddie was very brave even without Stan.”

“He saved my life.” 

“I know he did.”

“I love him so much Ben.” He can hear the way his breath hitches, can see the tears in his eyes threatening to spill over again. 

“I know, Richie, I know you do.” Richie presses a kiss to Ben’s mouth and Ben lets him for a moment before he pulls back, pressing his forehead to Richie’s, “Sleep, Richie. It’ll be alright in the morning. I’ll be here.” 

It’s not long after that Richie does fall asleep and Ben stays there, holding him gently, cheek pressed to the top of his head. He doesn’t get a restful sleep but that’s okay because when he sees Richie’s vulnerable smile in the morning it makes it all worth it. 

[onlyyyariii]

The Beginning

I’m hoping to make two more parts to this, called The Middle, and The End.

*******

I was walking through the mall when I suddenly bumped into someone.

"Ow," I yelled as they shoulder checked me, "watch where you're going f****r."

I glance behind me at the man, he has dark hair and hazel eyes. The man next to him seems to look identical, just a bit taller and more muscular.

"Sorry, I wasn't watching where I was going. It won't happen again." He says, staring at me.

"Yeah it better not."

+++++

I sit on a bench and continue to eat my salad. I love being at the mall. Many of the employees here are very helpful. They don't care about what size you are either. I also love watching the many different types of people that walk by me. The goths, the stoners, the popular girls who love nothing more than getting mani pedis and buying new dresses. Then there's the frat boys who try to throw compliments at me. I'm sorry frat boys, but you're not my type.

"Oh hey, it's the girl who bumped into me."

I look up to see the same guy from before, his clone by his side.

"Hey, you shoulder checked me."

He sits down beside me and his twin sits on my other side.

"What do you want?" I ask, setting my fork in the plastic bowl along with my salad.

"Your name."

"What? No, f**k that. I want yours first. How do I know you don't want to kill me?"

"First off I'm 23 years old, I don't want to kill anyone. But to appease you, I'm Ethan and that's my twin brother Grayson."

I glance between the two, "So does Grayson talk?"

"Of course he does why-"

I turn towards Grayson effectively cutting Ethan off, "Hi Grayson, I'm Liana. Liana Summers it's very nice to meet you."

He smiles and grabs hand brining it up to his lips, "Hi Liana, I'm Grayson but you could call me Gray."

"Uh hello? I was talking first."

I turn back towards Ethan, "I'm sorry sir but could you shut up? I'm trying to talk to my new friend here."

His jaw drops and Grayson giggles.

"Well I was going to ask you out-"

"My answer would be no."

"How come?" Ethan's smile drops slightly.

"I don't even know you. All I know is that you're Ethan and you have a twin brother and you guys are 23 years old."

"Okay... my favorite color is yellow, I'm dairy free, I'm also vegan. Grayson and I like to work out a lot. We're YouTubers, we got popular from vine. Our channel name is the Dolan Twins if you want to check it out."

"Hmm okay we'll see."

"What about the date?"

"You know nothing about me...?" I question, wondering why someone would want to go out with someone they know absolutely nothing about.

"Then tell me, tell me about you."

I smile, "Okay, my favorite color is purple. I'm vegan as well. I'm not some famous hot YouTuber, but I get by. I'm 22 and I work as a photographer. I've always liked make up so I wanted to start a YouTube channel for my make up videos."

"When's your birthday?" Grayson asks.

"It's in December. December 28th."

"Ours is the 16th."

"Oh, that's cool."

"So," Ethan starts as I turn to look at him, "can we go out now? Please."

I smile, "Fine but only one date. That's it."

"Yes," he jumps up off the bench, "here give me your phone."

I pull out my phone and unlock it. He takes it and starts typing away. He hands it back to me about three minutes later.

"D**n what took so long to add your number?"

"I made you follow my socials too."

"Oh my god. Are you serious? Your fan girls are going to come after me."

"Nah, I doubt it. I'll follow you back when we get home."

"Okay," I say, standing up.

"Wait, where are you going?"

"Home. I have a shoot tomorrow."

"For yourself or are you taking the pictures?"

"Both," I smile and start walking away, "see ya guys. Bye Gray!"

+++++

The date was set for later this afternoon and I couldn't help but feel jittery. I worked out for 3 hours this morning hoping my body was a bit more defined for tonight. No, I'm not going to sleep with the guy on the first date. I just don't want him to think I'm ugly. I'm currently watching one of their YouTube videos. I have been watching them almost daily since Ethan had told me about the channel. Ethan and I talk a lot too. We mostly call, I don't really have the time to text. Only in between shoots, I usually text Grayson and call Ethan. I'm also trying to decide on what to wear tonight. I want to look enticing, like, you get me? I want him to look at me and want to f**k me but like understand that he doesn't get to. Is that mean? My thoughts are cut off by the phone ringing.

"Hello?" I say answering the phone.

"Heyyy Li."

"Oh hey Ethan, aren't you like coming in an hour and a half?"

"Change of plans."

"Oh," I suddenly find myself disappointed. He doesn't want to go out with me anymore? I was kind of excited.

"No! I'm not cancelling on you! I'm coming a little earlier if that's okay. Grayson just brought a girl in the house and he's like signaling for me to leave so I-"

"Oh no, you're fine! You could come to my apartment I guess. I'll text you the address."

"Okay," he chuckles, "thanks."

"Yeah of course."

"Hey, um would you just like dress comfortably?"

"Um, how do you mean?"

"I don't want to give it away but like sweatpants or shorts and a T-shirt or something."

"Oh," where could we be going, "sure."

"Alright I'm sure you'll look hot either way."

I giggle, "Thanks."

"Okay, just lemme know the address I'll be there soon."

"Okay."

He hangs up and I text him my address. (Top is her outfit without the sweater) I hurry and get dressed before Ethan gets here. I do a no make-up make up look. I just put on some mascara and a shiny chapstick. The door bell rings as I'm putting my socks on. I finish slipping the sock over my heel and open the door.

"Hi," Ethan says smiling.

"Hey, uh come on in." I smile and motion behind me.

I walk over and sit on my couch to finish putting on my shoes. I look up to see Ethan holding a picture of my ex boyfriend and I.

"Who's this?" He asks, looking at me.

"Um that was my ex."

"How come you still have the picture up?"

"I just haven't gotten rid of it yet. Most of his stuff is in my closet. I can't bring myself to look at it."

"Do you mind me asking what happened?"

I look around and suddenly his jacket is hanging on the hook and he's walking through the door.

"Hey baby, I'm home. Who's this?" He says, looking at Ethan.

I wipe away the tear that trails down my face and turn back towards Ethan, "Yeah, I'll tell you. Um follow me to my bedroom, if that's alright with you."

I get up and walk to my bedroom, I hear footsteps behind me letting me know Ethan is following me. I sit on my bed and he looks around at all the pictures hanging on my memorial wall.

"Who are all these people?"

"They were my friends."

He turns towards me with a confused look on his face, "Were?"

"They died two years ago," I grab one of the pictures off the wall and point to the people in it, "this is Morgan and Xavier, they were my friends from elementary school. They got engaged a few days before the accident. This is Aliyah and Marina, they became our friends in middle school. Then those two right there are Richie and me. We were dating and planning on getting married but then the accident happened."

I look at him trying to process everything. He looks up at my face and wipes away the tears that are running down my cheeks. I haven't been on a date since I was with Richie but being here with Ethan feels right.

"What was the accident?" He asks, his hand still on my cheek.

"We were in Minnesota, we went for a skiing trip. It was just the six of us. Morgan had this big hippie van that she had just bought. It was older but worked just fine. On our way up the mountain the tires slipped. The car flipped multiple times. When I woke up there was this terrible ringing in my ears. I look around at my friends and they were all still passed out. I crawled out and had to go farther down the mountain to get service. I called for an ambulance and when they arrived they picked me up and we drove back to my friends. Aliyah, Richie, and Morgan has all climbed out of the car but Xavier and Marina were still in the same positions I left them in. I tried to pull them out but they wouldn't move. I found out later that they'd hit their heads when we flipped and their brains swelled. They died during the time I left them there. I should've helped them it's all my fault that they're dead and I-"

Ethan pulls me into his arms and I bury my face in his neck, "Shhh it's okay. It wasn't your fault, it wasn't your fault. You can't blame that on yourself."

He places a kiss on my forehead. I find the strength to pull myself together as I tell him the rest of the story.

"Aliyah and Morgan has pulled Richie out from underneath the car. He had a broke leg, arm, and his ribs were cracked. They told me he had severe damage to his brain. He had to undergo serious brain surgery. Aliyah broke her nose, ankle, and her hand. The bones were shattered. Morgan didn't die until last year. She found out she had cancer, stage four. There was nothing she could do about it because it was too late. Aliyah was murdered a few months after the accident. Richie, after the surgery, forgot who I was. It was hard getting him to remember me again, when he did it was the day before he died. He remembered me and then we had a moment. He asked me to marry him and I didn't care that I was only twenty I said yes. I told him I would come back the next day but that night I got a call. The hospital called me at two in the morning and told me he went brain dead. I was his emergency contact and the only family he had around. They told me that after I had left that day he signed a DNR. I was heartbroken but I had to decide whether or not to pull the plug and I did. He wouldn't have wanted to stay alive like that. All I have from the accident is scars. Internal and external. There's scars on my back from the broken glass, I climbed out the window so I could call for help. It scraped open my back and I had to get stitches. I- I'm so sorry, I shouldn't be dropping all of this on you we haven't even gone on our first date yet I-"

"I'm completely fine with it. I want to know about your life. You would've told me sometime anyways right?"

I look back up at him, "Yeah I guess you're right."

"Hey, how about we just stay here tonight? We could watch a movie, have popcorn. I'll make you a vegan dinner?"

I smile and wipe the rest of the tears off of my cheeks, "That sounds nice, however Grayson told me you're not the best cook."

"Not the- oh he's gonna get it."

"Okay," I giggle, "we could make it together."

"That sounds perfect."

*******

Tell me if you guys want the next two parts lol, I didn’t write them yet but I would love to.

Taglist: @grantzarrr @fangdolan @luxplsr @blindedbythelightt @rhyrhy462 @333dolans

Message me if you want to be added to my tag list!

[loserslibrary]

pairing: Bill Denbrough & Eddie Kaspbrak, Bill Denbrough/Mike Hanlon [Hanbrough], Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier [Reddie] written by: Diana rating: Teen word count: 1,594 prompt: Hi!!!! This is such a cool idea I’m excited to see what you guys come up with it! Can I get some adult losers, like married with kids maybe? Specifically Reddie and Hanbrough if possible

“Oh, thank fucking God!” Bill cried in relief as he scrambled to the front door. He opened it to reveal Richie and Eddie, the latter of which was holding their adorable daughter. “I thought you two would never get here!”

Eddie gave him a sharp look and shushed him as he made his way into the Hanlon house. “I just got her to sleep on the way here.” he whispered as he sat himself down on the couch, covering his daughter’s ear with his hand. “Do not wake my daughter up Bill- not unless you want to face the wrath of a cranky three year old.”

“Sorry, my bad!” Bill whispered back before adding, “Do you wanna go lay her down with Ellie? Mike’s reading her a book, trying to get her to fall asleep.”

“Is he reading her the ending of one of your books?” Richie teased. He smirked at the annoyed look Bill shot him. “Sorry, dude, as one of your best friends, I’m obligated to tell you the truth. Your books are bor—OW EDS!”

Eddie elbowed him, stopping Richie from finishing his sentence. As their daughter began to stir, Eddie elbowed him again and hissed, “Shut up, Richard! If Alex wakes up, I’m making you put her back to sleep.”

Richie rubbed at his side as he nodded his head solemnly. “I would rather not. You know I hate to see her cry.”

Eddie smiled at this, his angry face going soft. “Yeah, and she knows how to take advantage of that.”

“Okay... not that I don’t like a cute domestic moment,” Bill began, interrupting their conversation, “but I asked you guys over for dinner for a reason.”

Richie and Eddie exchanged a glance before looking back over at Bill. “What’s up?” Eddie asked at the same time that Richie said, “Are you two getting divorced?”

Bill just stared at Richie with wide eyes, unable to process what he had just asked. “Wha—NO! We’re not getting divorced...W-Why would you even ask that?”

“Sorry, I don’t know man.” Richie shrugged, not looking apologetic in the slightest. “Your tone was kind of serious. And we all know Mike’s too good for you anywa—OOF”

“That’s it! Get out of here, Rich.” Eddie said as he elbowed Richie again. He handed their daughter over to him. “Go take her to Ellie’s room with Mike.”

“Aww but Eds,” Richie whined as he complied and accepted Alex into his arms, “I wanna hear the hot gossip!”

“You can find out later,” Eddie said with a roll of his eyes. He pointed towards the hallway leading to the rooms. “You know I tell you everything anyway.”

Richie smiled and leaned over to give Eddie a quick kiss on the cheek before getting up. “You sure do. I have all the dirt on all our friends because of you, my love.”

“God, get a room.” Bill said and pretended to gag as Richie left the room. “You two are disgustingly sweet. I can’t stand it.”

Eddie laughed and leaned back into the couch and crossed his right leg over his left. “Says the forty year old man that cried just last week when Mike came home with—”

“Ok, ok, yeah I get it!” Bill lifted a hand to stop Eddie from continuing. “We’re all fools madly in love with our husbands. Can I just tell you what I have to say?”

“Alright,” Eddie said as he crossed his arms. “I’m all ears.”

“Well, Mike and I…” Bill hesitated, unsure of how to begin. “Listen, this is...this is beyond us. We’re going to need back up. I just don’t know how we’re going to handle this!”

Eddie gave him a puzzled look, trying to understand what Bill was saying. He watched Bill gesture wildly for a couple more moments before he reached over to stop his arms from continuing to move. “Alright, enough. What the fuck are you talking about, Bill? You’re kind of scaring me.”

“I just...We really need help, Eddie.” Bill pleaded. “We have no idea what the fuck we’re doing.”

Eddie sighed in frustration.. “Help with what Bill? Come on man, spit it out! I have no fucking idea what you’re talking about.”

“Ellie! What else?” Bill groaned. “Am I not making myself clear?”

“Uh...no??” Eddie looked at him as if he’d grown two heads. “Literally nothing you’ve said has made any sense?? It literally sounded like you were trying to tell me you and Mike were having issues…”

“No! Mike and I are fine. We’re great, actually.” Bill assured him. “It’s just… this whole parenting thing is even harder than we had expected.. Ellie’s our first child, and I don’t want to fuck this up! You know how it was growing up for me, Eddie.”

Eddie watched him worriedly and motioned for him to continue. If Bill needed him to listen, then that was exactly what he would do.

“M-my parents sucked.” Bill said as he choked back a sob. “I mean... my own father hit me with his fucking car and then barely batted an eye. I’m terrified that I’ll fuck this up, Eddie. I don’t want to be a bad father, I want Ellie to have all the love and attention that Georgie and I never got growing up. You and Rich have two adorable daughters that have everything they could ever want...That’s what I want for Ellie. Please, Eddie, tell me how to be a good father.”

“Jesus, Bill…” Eddie wiped a tear from his cheek as he placed a comforting hand on his friend’s back. “Listen…”

Eddie paused and tried to find the right words to say. Bill was right; his parents had been neglectful towards him and his brother growing up, but that didn’t mean Bill would be the same. Why would he be the same? Eddie could see just how worried Bill was about being a father, and he understood. He and Richie had been the same way when they brought home their first daughter, Emma.

Eddie had been scared of smothering her like his mother had done to him. He had even been too scared to hold her at first, worried that he would somehow harm the fragile human being he was now tasked with protecting. Richie had talked him through it, he’d patiently coaxed Eddie into holding her gently in his arms. Now, Eddie was more than happy with the family he had, and he wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.

He wanted that for Bill, too. He wanted Bill to see that his experience as a father would be nothing like his experience as a son. Bill was scared, and considering his childhood, it was a completely valid feeling. But Bill had a good heart, and he clearly cared so much about his daughter; he had what his parents lacked—an interest in the well being of his child.

“Listen, Billy...” Eddie said softly while he rubbed soothing circles on Bill’s back. “The fact that you’re even worried about fucking up shows just how different you are from your parents. You would NEVER in a million years neglect your daughter the way your parents neglected you and your brother.”

“Yeah but—“

“If it’s actually parenting tips you need, I’m here for you.” Eddie continued, not letting Bill protest. “I’ve got some nice, healthy recipes I can pass on to you that will trick Ellie into eating her veggies without a fuss. I can send you links to some nice classical music playlists for kids that’ll have her knocked out in no time. You’re bound to mess up, but not the way you think you will. You AND Mike have got this. We’re here for you. Hell, you took care of Georgie by yourself for years. There’s really no reason for you to be worried about messing up, you’re more than capable of taking care of Ellie.”

“Thanks Eddie,” Bill smiled at him, leaning over to rest his head on Eddie’s shoulder. “Mike’s been telling me we have nothing to worry about, that being a new parent is a process. I just...I guess I needed to hear it from an experienced parent that I’m not doing something wrong. I love Mikey, but that man can’t change a diaper to save his life. I’ve been so worried about Ellie getting diaper rash that—Why are you laughing?”

“Oh, it’s just—” he burst into more laughter now. “God, Bill, you sound just like me when we first became parents. This is literally...like this is literally step two of becoming a parent. Step one is the giddiness, the excitement of having a child. Step two is when the panic sets in. Trust me, you’ll get over it and before you know it, you’ll be on step three: relief.”

“Can’t wait for that.” Bill sighed and dreamed of the day he wouldn’t feel anxiety over being the caretaker of a small and vulnerable human being. Eddie was right though, he had taken care of Georgie for years all by himself. He could do this, he just needed someone to reassure him.

“You’ll get there soon.” Eddie assured him as he patted him on the back before standing up. He motioned towards where he had sent Richie. “Now, let’s go check on our husbands. This is the first dinner out we’ve had in weeks and I don’t trust Richie not to ruin it by waking up Alex or preventing your daughter from falling asleep with his Voices that, for some reason, all the kids fucking love.”