#eddie for sure thinks its some secret nerd shit

[whathehonestfuk]

Give me Steve that doesn't give a fuck about the ndas

What's the gov going to do kill him? Worse things have tried and failed

It's not like anyone would believe him anyway

Post season 3 pre season 4 Eddie runs into Steve while he's carting the party around and asks how exactly he came to know his newest sheep

Steve just shrugs and says fighting monsters

[harmonictechnicality]

Eddie's Memory Log: Day 30

part 1 here | part 2 here | part 4 here | part 5 here | part 6 here

(ao3 link here)

After one whole month of documenting Eddie Munson’s semi-fucked memory levels, Steve has come across a few crucial bullet points:

Eddie never forgets his own name.

If Eddie’s pain levels are bad, so are his memories.

Eddie likes the lime jello better than the chocolate pudding, except he always forgets.

Eddie’s memory is worse after the weekend, but it gets better throughout the week.

Eddie can hum the theme songs to all of the shitty soap operas (even on bad days).

Eddie’s memory is at its best if he’s had multiple visitors the day before.

And maybe the most important bullet of them all:

Eddie always remembers three people (Wayne, Dustin, and Steve).

Memory Log: Day 31

It’s Monday, which means Steve hasn’t seen Eddie all weekend. The knuckleheads and Hellfire lemmings take the weekend shift since they don’t have school. Steve should be grateful for the time off, but he can’t help but wonder how Eddie is feeling - if he’s throwing hissy fits or being confectionery sweet to all of his guests.

The curiosity and concern has settled its way into Steve’s routine during his days off. That’s just how it is.

And that’s exactly why Mondays are becoming Steve’s (secret) favorite day, despite Eddie’s brain managing the slightest soft-reset after the weekend.

“Is he a Hyde or a Kathy today?” Steve asks the nurse at the visitor check-in counter.

He knows the majority of the staff by now, and they’ve all adopted his Eddie Behavioral Lingo. Steve is getting far too cocky about being the hospital trendsetter.

“He’s um…” the nurse's gaze drifts up to Eddie’s door.

Shit. Steve bursts into the room because he already knows exactly what that translates to.

It’s a high-pain day. Eddie affectionately calls them Grendel Days - he finally decided to play along with their lackluster literary references.

Oh yeah… Eddie remembers Beowulf

“Hey, hero.” Steve speaks in a lower volume because loud noises are brutal on days like this. “I heard that Grendel crashed the party today, huh?”

Admittedly, Steve had Dustin retell the important chunks of Beowulf to him cause there’s no way in Nerd Hell that Steve was going to read that fantasy bible of theirs.

Eddie squints one eye open to look at Steve. “That son of a bitch is trying to slice open my goddamn kidneys, I swear.”

“Should I get my nail bat?”

“You’re what?”

Damnit.

Eddie remembers zero fucking percent about their monster battles (and it’s probably best to keep it that way while he’s still recovering).

“Not important.” It is but whatever. Best to just change topics. “Can I interest you in any pain distractions?” 

“What are you gonna do exactly - open your letterman jacket and offer me a lollipop?”  Eddie snorts at his own joke before slumping over, holding his sides.

Steve wags his finger at him. “See, that is karma for being so mean to me all the time.”

“That?”

“All this pain you’re having.”

“Actually, I think it’s because I’m some type of Demonic Tinker Bell.” Eddie offers, fake coughing into his hand. “If not enough people are calling me freak, I start to die.”

It’s just a joke, but Steve is not so keen on his friends joking about things like Mortality anymore.

Still, he laughs. Plays along easily. “All hail the freak.”

Eddie stops his fake coughing fit.

“And just like that, my wings of darkness have returned.” Eddie flicks his wrist theatrically, giving Steve the weakest smile. “See? Much better.”

But it’s not Much Better. Eddie spends the rest of the visit seething with internal pains. Switchboard style - one area inflicting jolts of throbbing agony, then another. Eddie grabs wherever it hurts the most. Sometimes he can’t touch every pain point, it’s just too widespread.

Maybe Steve should… No. He’s not sure his hands could stop the hurt any better. He’s not a doctor and he’s not fucking magic. Steve is just the guy that wears offensively bright sweaters and watches Eddie’s torture spectacle from a front row seat.

They don’t talk much after that. 

Eddie can’t talk through the pain. And apparently… neither can Steve.

Memory Log: Day 35

The pain has been monstrous all week long. They’ve had to plug Eddie’s heart monitor back in because his heart rate tends to skyrocket when waves of pain hit. It used to be easy to forget that Eddie suffered anything other than head trauma.

Not anymore. Not with his room beeping like a terminal metronome at all hours.

Steve stops asking Eddie’s novel-based behavior levels because he already knows the answer. Wishes he didn’t.

“Munson?” The lights are off, which helps with Eddie’s headaches. That’s good. Less pain in his head, behind his eyes. Small victories.

“Go home.” Eddie’s breathing sounds labored.

Steve settles into his chair anyways. “Can’t.”

“I’m not in the mood.”

“Me neither.”

“Steve, I swear.”

“Like a sailor.”

Eddie chuckles. “Hurts to laugh.”

Seeing Eddie like this is god awful. He should be shredding on his guitar or mocking Dustin senseless for his clashing pattern combinations. He shouldn't be wrapping his arms around his torso, confining the pain that’s mangling him from the inside out.

“We’ve gotta find a way to get Grendel out of your system, man.” Steve bends down to Eddie’s eye level. “Cause this fucking blows.”

Eddie opens both eyes this time - they’re so sunken in. “… Grendel?”

Shit no.

If Eddie’s pain levels are bad, so are his memories.

Steve tries again anyway. “You know… from Beowulf?”

“Sounds cool.” Eddie eye’s close again. “Are they a band?”

Eddie doesn’t remember Beowulf.

“You think everything sounds like a band name…” Steve mumbles, ignoring the disappointment pinging in his mind.

Eddie reaches for the guitar pick on his neck - one of his bandmates brought it by a couple weeks ago. He rubs his thumb over it as if he can transfer memories through fingerprints.

“Hometown Slut.” Eddie sends a sideways smile over towards Steve. “Snatching virginities and record deals.”

Okay. Fuck. Eddie remembers inside jokes. That seems like a big fucking deal.

Steve attempts to not overreact with this revelation. Avoid another hair ruffling/thumbs-up situation. “Did you have to use the word ‘snatch’ in your weird little slogan?”

“Oh the word choice was very unavoidable, Stevie boy.”

Steve shuts the notebook, focuses on keeping Eddie distracted from his pain. “What about your band?”

“What about it?”

“Do you remem…” Steve searches for another phrase. “Do you think you can tell me the name?”

“Alright, please stop treating ‘remember’ like it’s a dirty word.” Eddie whines. “I’m not the fucking cable version of Breakfast Club. Stop censoring yourself around me.”

“Right.” Steve opens the binder back up.

Eddie doesn’t remember…

“Corroded Coffin.” 

Phew. Eddie does remember his band.

“Do you remember what instrument you play?” Steve puts emphasis on the un-censored word.

“Accordion.”

“Be serious.”

“Polka is dripping in sincerity.”

Steve pinches the skin between his eyebrows. Truly, it’s impressive that Eddie can still manage to be a massive prick, even when he’s writhing in pain. It’s like he’s going for the goddamn gold medal of assholery.

“Guitar.” Eddie dangles the pick around, somewhat peeved. “Now can we chill with the third degree for today, officer?”

Steve notices Eddie’s monitor is beeping faster than it was when he first entered the room. That sobers him up from his irritation.

“Yeah, sure.” He sighs. “No more questions for today.”

Eddie cuts him a devious look. “Well I didn’t say that now, did I?”

“Huh?”

“Oh the vapid look is not nearly as cute as you think it is.” Eddie lifts himself up slightly from his stack of pillows. He flattens them out and into a pillow wall as he sits upright. “How about I ask the questions today?”

“Why? I’m not the one who’s struggling with brain stuff.” Steve walks over to give him a hand. Eddies seems to be struggling with his strength, which is to be expected after becoming a fucking bat buffet.

“That’s debatable.” Eddie mumbles.

Steve’s close enough to feel his breath as he pushes the pillows comfortably around Eddie’s new sitting position. 

It’s not weird, the close contact or the breath. Steve has been helping Eddie with gross shit for a month - holding his hair when he starts puking or coughing up blood. Unraveling him from tubes and cords because Eddie is notorious for twisting himself into a medical straight jacket with this shit.

It’s not weird… it’s just weird how aware Steve is of Eddie’s breath. How warm and jagged it feels, even through his layered clothes.

Maybe Eddie is aware too, because he starts breathing through his nose the longer the silence is drawn out between them. Steve finally takes a step back, creates a non-breath-touching distance once again.

“Humor me then.” Eddie fills the tense pause.

Steve crosses his arms. “Don’t I always?”

“No. Usually, you aggravate me.” But see, why do Eddie’s eyes get all shimmery when he says snarky shit? And why does Steve suddenly use words like shimmery to describe Eddie Munson?

Why does it remind him of those sequined dresses that girls wear to homecoming dances when Eddie’s eyes do that shimmery thing? It’s like his mind is taking the insults and turning them into compliments, which is so bizarre.

“Steve?”

Shit, right. Say something instead of thinking about Eddie’s sequined eyes, goddamnit. “Yeah?” 

Real original, asshole.

“Just… look.” Eddie taps his fingers against this side of his bed. “There’s sharp pains shooting through every fucking limb on my body right now. I just need a distraction today - not a pop quiz.”

Yeah, Steve offered the distraction idea at the beginning of the week. But really, that’s not what he’s here to do. He’s here for the kids. He’s here to fill his jobless life with a meaningful task. Help Eddie the way he couldn’t help him in the Upside Down.

But the kids have no idea what it’s like every day. How some days, they are friendly and comfortable with one another. How some days, there’s a verbal boxing match between them - and on those days, they’re both the losers.

How some days, Steve is the one getting flustered instead of Eddie (who’s usually being called out for staring at Steve’s hair or arms or whatever else his eyes decide to fixate on).

Nobody else knows how many climates this hospital room can hold. Nobody besides Steve and Eddie.

“Fine.” Steve decides after mulling it over for far too long. “I’ll be your distraction.”

“Careful, Steve.” Eddie breaks the non-breath-touching distance, poking Steve’s wrist. “You almost sound flattered.”

“Hardly.” Bad time to bring up the word hard - when they’re seesawing between taunts and flirtations. Thank god for the binder Steve’s holding, obscuring any part of his anatomy that could potentially betray his coolness at the moment.

“Go ahead, Munson.” Steve backs away from Eddie’s touch. “Ask your questions.”

Eddie runs the entire thing as if he were a late night talk show host. Uses his hospital side table as his interview desk. Pretends his empty jello container is his microphone. Calls Steve his ‘special guest’ the whole time. Steve scoots his chair right next to Eddie’s bed, just to keep up the talk show charade. 

An hour into it, they’re both feeding off one another’s energy and attention. Steve can tell by the way Eddie’s fingers unclench from his sides and his teeth stop gritting together, that his pain is subsiding - or perhaps it’s no longer at the focal point of his mind. His heart monitor is at a tempo that seems ideal - less fast and less choppy. More like a ballad than a pop song.

Eddie’s questions range from common to outright strange. He asks Steve shit like, ‘what’s your favorite breakfast food?’ And then follows it up with, ‘okay - but if you could only eat scrambled eggs for dinner, would they still be your favorite breakfast? Or does time of day play a vital role in your food preferences?’

“Does it fucking matter?” Steve rolls his eyes. More than annoyed by Eddie’s constant need to play devil’s advocate.

“Nothing matters, Harrington.” Eddie replies. “And please stop answering my questions with more questions. This isn’t a goddamn improv game.”

Eddie remembers how to be a pain in the ass.

Steve doesn’t write it down, doesn’t really need to. “What the hell is an improv game?”

“I swear to Johnny Carson, I’ll kick you off my show.”

“Whatever.” Steve isn’t any less confused, but what’s new. “I guess time of day does matter a little bit.”

“Ha! Knew it. You’re so predictable.”

“And you’re a fucking handful.”

“That’s high praise coming from such an esteemed guest of the show.” Eddie’s hand is splayed over his chest, over his heart. The heart that’s beating like a ballad and not a pop song according to his monitor.

Okay stop.

Steve knows this is a game. A shtick. So why is his face heating up? Why are his palms sweatier than they were twenty minutes ago? Why does Steve keep wondering what Eddie’s eyelashes feel like against his cheek when he flutters them in that overly dramatic way?

The clock interrupts his questioning. Probably for the best.

They exchange goodbyes. Eddie always gets a little concerned that Steve might not show up again. Steve always tucks his bitchiness away to reassure Eddie that he’ll be back on Monday.

It’s their routine. Not just Steve’s routine. It’s theirs now.

Memory Log: Day 38

It’s Monday. Soft-reset day. Steve’s new favorite day.

“Hey, Steve.” One of the nurses stops him on his way to Eddie’s room. 

Her name is Sam - Steve likes Sam the best because she lets him stay longer on days when Eddie feels his shittiest. She also gives him gum to help with his nerves. 

Hospitals do that sometimes. They just activate his nerves like glow sticks. Snapping and crackling the radioactive colors that make his stomach churn.

Anyways, the gum helps.

“What’s up?” Steve asks.

“Just wondering,” Sam gives him a pleasant smile. “Do we have a code for Eddie’s good days?”

“Good days?” They don’t hear that phrase often around here. “I don’t think so.”

“Maybe you should think of one.” She starts flipping through some files. “He’s been in great spirits for three days now.”

Three days? Steve rarely gets three hours of Eddie being in great spirits. The guy is a perpetual ghoul, so this is definitely something to celebrate.

Steve makes a pit stop to the vending machine. Grabs them a couple of root beers and candy bars for the occasion. Look, it’s not champagne and hors d’oeuvres, but it’ll suffice. Besides, Eddie doesn’t strike him as a ritzy kind of dude anyways. He’d probably make some joke like, ‘you mean to tell me that a whore made these d’ouevres?’

Jesus christ, Steve’s been hanging out with Eddie for too long.

“There’s my favorite lady killer.” Eddie is already grinning as Steve walks in the door. 

Still remembers Steve is a Hometown Slut (of all the things that would stick to his brain… why that?)

“Seriously, you look sharp today.”

Steve’s knees lock at the compliment. “Um. Thanks. So do you.”

And the crazy part is, he means that. There’s a peachy color returning back to Eddie’s skin. The bags under his eyes are a faded gray instead of an Almost Black. 

And his hair. Eddie’s hair is actually untangled. His curls are fluffed out, sort of feathery at the ends. Maybe somebody trimmed all of the dead pieces off because it looks... Well, it looks nice.

Steve kind of hates to admit that.

“Guessing your pain levels are better?”

“You guess right.” Eddie nods. “Whatever meds they gave me Friday night finally kicked Grendel’s lousy ass.”

Eddie remembers Beowulf again.

“Glad to hear it.” Steve is trying to process how great things are going. Eddie’s complexion. Eddie’s memories. It’s never this clear on Mondays. Steve tries to just be grateful to have a day like this, but he can’t help but wonder why.

Why now?

“Eggs for breakfast?” Eddie is fiddling with his necklace again.

Steve jerks his head up. “You… didn’t forget?”

“Don’t get too excited.” Eddie gestures to Steve’s pants. “Because I wish I could forget those ridiculous khakis that you always wear on Mondays.”

“Shit, really?”

“What’s the deal with that anyways?” Eddie’s nose scrunches up at the question. “Laundry day or something?”

“I…” Yes.

“Or do you think your ass just looks better in lighter colors?”

“Well…” Also yes.

Eddie winks. “Looks like your ability to complete a sentence is just as fucked as my memory, huh Stevie?”

Steve nervously runs his hands through his hair. “This is just a lot to process, sorry.”

And it is. Steve starts jotting everything down before he starts to forget:

Eddie remembers Steve’s favorite breakfast food.

Eddie remembers Steve wearing khakis on previous Mondays.

Eddie remembers Steve’s Memory Fucked inside joke.

Eddie remembers a shit ton about Steve.

Eddie remembers.

Very lightly, Steve scribbles on the corner of the page:

Eddie notices Steve’s ass…

The rest of the visit is pretty awesome, one of the best ones they’ve ever had. Eddie recalls practically everything from Friday, which is blowing Steve’s mind. They talk about his visit with Dustin on Sunday, and how excited Eddie is to see Wayne on Thursday. Steve doesn’t even bother with taking more notes because Eddie remembers it all.

They talk like real friends today. Friends that occasionally notice other friend’s asses or get lost in their sequined eyes, but still. It’s somewhere in the ballpark of friends, right? Whatever it is, it’s better than ripping each other apart with insults. That’s gotta count for something.

Eddie falls asleep an hour before visiting hours are over. He falls asleep still smiling from the last joke he told before dozing off. Steve studies his facial features because he can finally see more of them (Eddie’s bangs were trimmed too, thank god). 

He’s still pretty banged up. Cuts that overlap and bruises that change gradient the further up they spread. As if the softer parts of Eddie are still freshly wounded. That’s not how it works, Steve has been beaten up enough to know that people don’t bruise like fruit. Not really.

Steve can just see more of Eddie now, which is proving to be a dangerous road to travel down. Way too many detours to let his mind wander. Think. Overthink.

He thinks Eddie is attractive. That’s the detour he’s taking tonight. And if this person didn’t already occupy so much space in his mind, that detour might be more shocking to him. But it’s barely registering on the shock-meter.

Eddie’s unharmed features are highlighted in attractiveness against the purples and grays and reds. It’s almost impossible not to notice that he’s attractive when his face has this many colors. This much character.

Steve doesn’t know what’s going on. This could all be his exhaustion kicking in. Or maybe Eddie’s great spirits has twisted Steve’s outlook on things. Or maybe it’s an illusion from the Better Day they’ve shared together.

The only clear answer that Steve has right now is that Eddie remembers him. And that fucking means something.

Steve stops by to tell Sam the good news on his way out.

“I think he’s getting better.”

Sam nods once. “He definitely feels better, I’ll give you that.”

“Sure, but…” Steve begins. “I think his memory is getting better too. He remembers the littlest details about me.”

“Steve.”

“That’s huge, right?” Steve is so awestruck. “Like… I don’t know, Sam. Maybe he’ll get to go home soon.”

She doesn’t respond right away. Her eyes just keep shifting between Steve and Eddie’s door.

“I think I need to show you something.”

That can’t be good. Her tone is very, ‘speak with me after class, young man.’

They quietly walk back into Eddie’s room. Sam motions her head for Steve to approach Eddie’s bedside. Cautiously, Steve does.

She gently pulls back Eddie’s thin blanket, and Steve feels the air vacate his fucking lungs.

Eddie’s arms. There’s tape and IVs and tattoos and scars - all of the usual stuff. 

But then there’s writing. Eddie is covered in black ink, scribbled notes filling in all the gaps of his pale skin. Steve can’t make out most of the words - it’s all messy.

But there’s one word he spots over and over again.

‘Steve.’

It’s all messy, sure. But it’s all about him.

“Holy shit.” Steve whispers, quickly looking towards Sam. “Sorry, didn’t mean to swear.”

“No, that’s an appropriate response.” Of course she’d be cool about him swearing.

Without waking up Eddie, he begins to decipher the notes as best as he can: 

Scrambled eggs. Extra hold hairspray. Hyde or Kathy. Yellow sweater. Khakis on Mondays.

There are notes on things they haven’t talked about as well. Things that Eddie has just observed:

Steve visits Mon-Fri.

Steve laughs at all of your jokes, even the mean ones.

Steve applies chapstick when he’s nervous.

Steve will untangle your wires without making it weird.

The name Steve no longer sounds the same after reading it fifteen times over.

“I’m so sorry, sweetie.” Sam places a hand on Steve’s back. “It’s not that he’s remembering everything again.”

“Oh.”

“He just doesn’t want to forget you.”

No. That can’t be right. That can’t be possible. Of course Eddie knows who Steve is. Of course he does.

Steve finds a shitty excuse to get the hell out of this place. He’s polite about it because Sam is a kindhearted person, but this is so fucking unfair. Every last bit of it, down the last ink stain on Eddie’s nondominant arm.

Max isn’t awake. Eddie still has a skim-milk memory. Nothing has gotten better?

Well that shit ends today. Because whatever detour Steve’s mind discovered tonight, it’s leading him down a fucking freeway of tenacity. He’s fueled by whatever attraction or feelings he’s developing for Eddie. Whether it’s friendship or something more, it really doesn’t matter. Not after tonight.

Steve just cares about Eddie way too much to let his mind rot away like this. He’s too close, too connected to the problem to let it go unsolved forever.

As soon as Steve gets home, he calls Robin.

“Really, dingus?” Robin answers the phone like that. Annoyed and groaning already. “It’s late and I’m neck-deep in a John Hughes marathon.”

“It’s about Eddie.” Steve gets right to it.

“Is he okay?”

“I don’t know.”

“Oh fuck.” She exhales loudly. “How can I help?”

“You’re friends with his bandmates, right?”

“Yeah, kinda. Why?”

Steve flips through the memory log. Locates one of his crucial bullet points:

Eddie can hum the theme songs to all of the shitty soap operas (even on bad days).

“I need you to ask them to make a mixtape of Eddie’s favorite songs.” Steve requests. “And it should be in chronological order. From stuff he liked as a kid, to stuff he’s into now.”

“Okay…” Robin pauses. “And you think this will help?”

“I don’t know.” Which is true, it could be a big waste of time. “But I’ve gotta try something.”

This might be dumb. But music helped them defeat(ish) Vecna. So there’s a possibility it could massage the knots in Eddie’s mind. Relax him enough to remember his life. All of it.

“Oh, and one more thing.” Steve adds before hanging up.

“What?”

Steve hits the accelerator on his freeway of tenacity.

“I need my fucking car back.”

[thoughtfullyyoungduck]

And he said, I hope you know how to swim

A/N: this is for the gift exchange from @itfandomprompts! My giftee is @iheartthoreau who asked for shy skinny dipping lovers and jealous Eddie. I’m sorry it’s out so late, I hope you enjoy it anyway! 

Summary:  The Derry midnight breeze is freezing, Eddie notes, still dressed in a shirt and pants and dreading having to get rid of them. He’s bare foot now, standing on top of the quarry and peering down into the glinting lake. Next to him, also bare foot, Richie looks over his shoulder, and laughs, bright and innocent. 

warnings: skinny dipping, mentioned of nudity (but nothing graphic)

read on a3o

The atmosphere of six best friends who’ve just moved past the worst stages in their life cackles in Eddie’s brain.

He’s buzzed up, energized beyond all logic by the laughter and loving gestures so carelessly tossed around in their group. Pennywise is dead, and with it the looming threat following each of them around and the teasing unhappiness hinting at what they were missing but not giving any clues as to what.

It’s all over now, and a road full of new opportunities lays ahead of them. Everyone is acting loose, ecstatic with the weight that fell off their shoulders. Eddie’s feeling a tad guilty too, for calling Myra and informing her that way about their upcoming divorce that he’s going to set in motion as soon as he’s had a good night sleep, but he felt so brave after surviving a literal killer clown, that he wanted to get it over with as soon as possible.

A part of him was also frightful that he’d lose his courage, between now and getting home, that he’d look around his house and accept that this was all he was destined for, a mediocre life with a wife he didn’t love and a job that sucked the joy out of all employees. Myra deserved better though, and that’s why Eddie’s guilty eyeing his phone, debating on calling her back. He won’t take back what he said, because he’s relieved to have put it out in the open, but he’s unsure if he should have been more empathetic towards her feelings in all of this. If he should have ended the call after telling her to take care.

Bev notices his wandering eyes from where she seated beside him on the couch, the woman still laughing a stitch, shifting forward and hiding his phone in between seat cushions. Out of sight out of mind so to speak.

‘We’ve got time to worry about it tomorrow Eddie.’ She says, and she’s right. Tomorrow both him and Bev will have to deal with the intricacies of divorce and separating a company and a home. Tonight is reserved for the losers only.

‘Yeah Eds, and here I was assuming that after twenty years we’d have some stuff to catch up on.’

Richie regards him from the floor, legs tossed up upon the couch with his body upside down. His glasses are sliding off, but he’s lazy to fix them, so he looks like even more of a goofball than normal. If Eddie could, if he didn’t feel like his intentions would be even more noticeable if he did, he’d scoot over to Richie, adjusting his glasses and letting his fingers trail his cheek and bask in the skin to skin contact.

‘You never did anything interesting before we went to college, what makes you think you’ve done something interesting after?’ Eddie’s tongue is sharp, a façade he builds to stop speculation about his feelings towards Richie, though the truth is that he is intrigued and he craves to know every small detail about his life outside of Derry.

‘No you guys are not starting this again. I’m sick of your bickering,’ Bill interjects, rolling his eyes at the pair.

‘I reject that big Bill, we’re hilarious, you can’t be sick of us bickering when you haven’t had the pleasure of hearing it for the last twenty years. Michael, back me up here buddy.’

‘Sorry Rich, I’m not getting involved in the slightest.’

‘Yeah guys come on, can’t we have one quiet night in?’

‘What so Eddie can just call me boring and I’m supposed to let it slide? Me? I’m the fireworks on the Fourth of July, the highest roller coaster in the park and the whipped cream on strawberries, but I am not boring.’ Richie changes positions, almost accidentally knocking over his beer bottle. He theatrically waves his arms back and forth, trying to animate his words and add conviction.

‘Okay, okay you’re not boring, but don’t overrate yourself either. The most adventurous thing you ever did in high school was skip a class to read a comic book in the school’s bathroom. Not exactly daredevil behavior.’

Bev sips from her whiskey, winking at Richie whose face turns beet red for a reason Eddie can’t decipher. It’s not until Bev conspicuously blows out a gust of air with her lips puckered that Eddie connects the dots.

‘Didn’t you say you ditched because you were smoking with Beverly? Dude did you fucking lie about that? I was worried you’d die and get cancer ever since that day you piece of shit.’

‘No I definitely did smoke. I swear.’

‘You’re not kidding anyone Rich, I vouched for you all those years ago, but I’m not doing it again. Little Richie was a comic book nerd who just pretended to be really cool. We never ever smoked together.’

The losers all holler, clapping their hands together and cheering on the exposure of their foulmouthed friend, debunking all the story Richie apparently made up where he and Be had to sneak out at night to smoke inconspicuously, with the exception of Eddie and Richie. Eddie, because he’s busy glaring at Richie and Richie because he’s busy tapping Bill’s hand away, teasingly disheveling his hair.

Eddie wishes he was brave enough to give these little affections to his friend, especially after witnessing how soothed Richie got when Eddie hugged him after Neibolt, when he had dropped his face into the nape of Eddie’s neck and stayed there, swaying on his feet of exhaustion. It would only make him a good friend, a best friend, but Eddie is still so damn afraid.

He might have had the power to separate from his wife and kill an abstract form of his deepest fears, but Bowers angry yelled words, such as fairy and faggot, swung to his head any time he and Richie graveted closer while walking, haunt him even now.

Touching is off limits the words tell him, so he shows affection the only way he’s ever known towards Richie, by bickering and pulling pigtails.

‘I should have expected that.’ Eddie nods vehemently, laughing as Richie’s mouth drops open in a shocked manner.

‘Are you kidding me? Eddie Spaghetti is the one telling me I’m a loser?’

Eddie flips him off, ignoring Mike’s whispered; ‘he’s got a point’, in favor of levitating his full attention on Richie. The giggling in the room elevates an octave higher.

‘You all laugh’, Richie addresses the entire group, ‘but was I not the one who came up with the idea for the list?’

Abruptly, all sounds snap off, as everyone is snapped back to the past. Even Richie is, at face value, confused about the word he spoke, until the concept and creation of the list is brought to the forefront of everyone’s mind.

‘Holy shit.’

‘Oh my god Mike please tell me you still have it.’

Mike shakes his head with a far-off look. ‘Sorry guys, I don’t know who had it last but I never found it again.’ He’s saddened by it, like he did them all an injustice by not holding on to a flimsy piece of paper.

The List, capital L, was nothing more but a checklist, composed with all the fun and dangerous things the losers all had hopes of doing after graduating high school. Eddie remembers now, the hushed laughter and uncompromisable joy that came with the simple idea of these things, how everyone pitched in and added dare after dare while him and Stan exchanged glances and hoped to god that some things would never be executed.

‘That’s okay Mike, I’m just happy we can all remember making it.’ Ben smiles reassuringly Mike’s way, who smiles back and takes a deep breath.

‘Wait, I think I can recall some of the things we wrote on there. Hold on’, Bev squeezes her eyes shut and snaps her finger in the hope it will get to her faster. ‘Oh’, she exclaims, startling Bill who chokes on his own saliva, ‘we were going to visit Europe, do a high rope parkour, rock climb and some other things I can’t remember right now.’

‘Didn’t we also agree to volunteer in a hospital and go camping in the national forest?’ Ben asks, awaiting confirmation.

‘Yeah we did, Stan was throwing a fit over going camping because of the environment and the dirt, but we were well on our way to convince him.’

‘Wow,’ Richie breathes, chest puffing up and head dropping back into the couch so his face isn’t visible to the rest. ‘I forgot all about that, but come to think of it, I’m pretty sure I did most of those things with Bryan.’

And who the fuck is Bryan? Certainly not Eddie, sweating in fear from the things that were being listed, searching for the most extreme dares he’d seen happen on tv to suggest, doing anything he could to impress Richie. Eddie was terrified of most of the activities on the list, like Bev’s idea to waterski in the ocean, or Mike’s zip lining idea, but he would have done them if it meant he could bask in Richie’s attention, impress Richie to rid himself of scared baby Eddie was so sure he must have been in Richie’s eyes. So who the hell was this Bryan stealing his thunder like that?

‘Who’s Bryan?’ Bev inquires with a smirk, winking at Richie blush ridden face. Eddie’s jealousy rears its ugly head, flaring up and making his head woozy. He simultaneously both considers choking Bev and thanking her for the question.

With Richie’s secret fresh on his mind, the way he’d so shamefully admitted that he was gay and they were the first people he’d ever found the courage to tell, Eddie wondered if Bryan was perhaps someone Richie had been romantically involved with.

Richie would have deserved it, Eddie argues in his mind, to at least for a short period of time have someone love him back as fiercely as he dons it out, but Eddie’s also furious that he stole Richie out from under his nose.

Which is illogical, because even if he and Richie had managed to stay in touch, and Eddie confessed – not much chance there, as Eddie didn’t even tell anyone he was gay when Richie did - there was no guaranty that Richie would’ve reciprocated.

‘No one snoopy’, Richie argues with a jittery leg, ’just some guy I hung out with for a while.’

Bev appears unconvinced, but she’s also respectful towards Richie's decision to not say anything. ‘So which ones did you complete?’

‘I went to Europa senior year of college, smoked a bunch of weed, went zip lining. The normal kind of stuff.’

Zip-lining, or smoking weed for that matter, causes Eddie skin to crawl, not that he’d ever admit it. He hates that that’s not the case for Bryan.

‘Well thanks Rich, none of us ever did anything on the list without the other losers. I guess you didn’t miss us too much.’ It’s not fair, of course it’s not. He can tell by the eagerness to spend time together that Richie was very lonely, and experienced the same aching emptiness where his friends were supposed to be as the rest of them.

The bitter tone of Eddie's speech, and the way Richie’s eyes turn a little dimmer extinguishes the fire of Eddie’s envy. Richie deserves better than him in every way. An apology lies at the tip of his tongue, ready to jump into the open and hopefully aid the wounds before they’re fully developed.

Sensing the impending hurricane of trouble on the horizon Mike is eager to intervene, playing mediator for two forces that are about to collide. ‘Well I mean, we probably wouldn’t have gone through with most of them anyway.’

‘Speak for yourself’, Eddie waves him off, spiteful that Mike has a good point. He would have found a way to undermine their plans and make it so that he could back out without appearing like a meek lamb, for at least half of the activities. If he had known about Bryan’s existence though, he would have done anything. He feels ready now to do anything, to one up him and establish his spot as Richie’s number one.

‘Prove it,’ Bill dares with a lopsided smirk, certain he’s got Eddie beat. He sustains eye contact, reaching for the bag of chips on the table and gnawing on it with the most smug aura Eddie has ever witnessed him having.

‘I would’, Eddie defends fiercely, ‘but we can’t do any of the things in Derry.’

‘Sounds like a cop out to me.’

‘Yeah, sure Big Bill, because you can easily find a zip line here in Derry. The town that refused to spend money on renewing the library back in the eighties is no doubt going to have that installed by now.’

‘What about skinny dipping?’ Ben proposes innocently, having no idea the kind of strain he’s putting Eddie under.

‘That’s a great idea Ben, I forgot we put that one on the list.’ Beverly acknowledges despite Eddie’s frantic head shaking. The room temperature drops down and rises back up steadily, at least according to Eddie. He’s starting to sweat, something he never does and takes pride in – in the office he’s the level headed one, and that’s saying something – and he pulls at his collar to allow some air to ventilate.  

Everything except that. A swim in a dirty lake that was most likely infected was a whole plate of different bacteria, and being naked in front of the man he’s in love with is not something Eddie is particularly fond of. He almost asks for a different thing to do, but that would truly be a cop out, and he both refuses to back down in front of Richie and give Bill the satisfaction of being right.

‘Good luck with that Eds, question before this all goes down, am I allowed to use this in my next bit?’

‘Actually,’ Bev interrupts, ‘I think you should join him too.’

‘Hey I wasn’t the one that said I’d be willing to do anything.’

‘No, but you were the one who added it on the list in the first place. C’mon Richie, It’ll be fun. For us, not for you guys, but we’ll get a good laugh out of it.’

Richie is hesitant, same as Eddie, readjusting his glasses again. Eddie is sure that if he says the word Richie will tell everyone to back down for him. He wouldn’t even make fun of Eddie for it, should Eddie give any indication that he wouldn’t want him too. He thinks back to Bryan, and how he wouldn’t have backed down for such a thing, and how in awe Richie must have been seeing the man abandon all safety precaution and go for it, Eddie’s mind is made up instantly.

‘Let’s do it.’ He says without leaving room for argument, nodding at Richie as he looks to him. He hopes Richie will go with it, but is also confident that of course he will. As kids they followed each other everywhere, and surely that hasn’t changed.

‘Really? I mean yeah – sure I guess. Bring it on.’

-----

The Derry midnight breeze is freezing, Eddie notes, still dressed in a shirt and pants and dreading having to get rid of them. He’s barefoot now, standing on top of the quarry and peering down into the glinting lake. Eddie’s jumping from one foot to the other, annoyed that dirt is clinging to his skin and branches are piercing his soles, even more aggravated at the idea of cleaning them in infection filled lake water. Bev better keep her end of the promise, and be waiting near the end of the lake with a pair of fresh pressed towels.

Next to him, also bare foot, Richie looks over his shoulder, and laughs, bright and innocent.

‘I forgot how high this was.’

It is high up, but they’ve done this jump at least a hundred times before, so Eddie’s not worried about the plunge. He’d assume Richie isn’t either, but the man keeps glances towards the path they took to get up here, uncharacteristically silent.

‘It’s okay if you're too scared to go through with it Eduardo, I won’t tell the others.’ Richie smirks when he notices Eddie’s glance, crossing his arms over his chest.

The movement makes his shoulders bulk, highlighting just how much bigger Richie is compared to Eddie. Eddie’s mouth waters, and he starts to worry about how he’s going to have to get through seeing Richie’s naked shoulders in the flesh.

‘Just get undressed will you? Hurry up.’

‘Why? Eager to see my bare ass?’

‘Yeah, because who doesn’t think jumping naked into a lake they frequented as kids is the epitome of sexiness? No you self-centered idiot, I want to get it over with so I can go back to the Inn and grab a warm shower.’

With one last peek, Eddie moves backwards, standing away from the ledge and begins to unbutton his shirt, before thinking better off it. Richie picks up on his hesitation, shifting backwards too and motioning his head towards the ridge.

‘Do you want me to show you how it’s done?’

‘No,’ Eddie objects, ‘I’ll go first.’

‘Why? I’m not going to stare at your junk while you're jumping in if that’s what you're worried about Eddie. I’m not that kind of gay.’ Rarely does Richie toss aside an opportunity to grant Eddie another humorous nickname, so the use of his real name spooks Eddie just enough that he opens his mouth to apologize without even realizing what he’s apologizing for.

Richie’s facial expression, set in a grimace and squinting his eyes defensively, are a dead give away that Eddie’s words are being taken the wrong way. If only Richie knew that Eddie wanted him to go in first so he could avoid the same temptation Richie thought he was forcing on him.

‘Richie no, that’s not what I meant I-.’ Heartfelt compliments are not something Eddie has had a lot of practice for these last few years, and he’s not doing a good job catching up on them either. Therefore he sighs and hopes that he can find another way to prove to Richie he’d never accuse him of something like that. ‘Whatever, just go first already.’

‘Fine but turn around okay?’

Eddie listens to him, back towards Richie and the jump off, though he doesn’t really understand the request. With Richie comes a lot of flair, and he was more or less been prepared for a joke about how Eddie got to confirm how big his dick is in reality.

He waits and listens carefully for the sounds of clothes being dropped on the ground, and he can’t stop his mind from secretly imagining how Richie looks like without them once he distinguishes it.  Eddie shakes his head, scolding his own mind.

The next few moments are filled with raspy breaths originating from Richie, footstep sounding further away and then closer again in an erratic pattern. He must be scared of the jump. Under normal circumstances, Eddie would ask to jump in at the same time, but since Richie asked Eddie not to turn around, he won’t.

‘If you don’t jump in the next five minutes,’ Eddie teases, the way Richie used to tease him, ‘I’ll push you in.’ A second later Eddie hears Richie’s loud whooping as he plunges down into the dark water.

Eddie spins, the only thing greeting him the dark with very little light clearing up his path, from the moon. He’s having a hard time to even see where the cliff ends, and he can’t disguise Richie in the water at all.

‘I’m coming in’, he yells to the void, in case Richie can’t discern his body in time and needs to move out of the way. He takes off his clothes, goosebumps erupting on his skin, and folds his pants and t-shirt up neatly, touching the ground with his hands to find a dry spot to lay them on. The air is cold, and so Eddie refuses to linger on top any longer than he has to.

He jogs up to the ledge and darts off before his mind can conjure up the thousands of things that can go wrong from swimming in the dark this late at night. His body flies through the air and connects with the water in one swoop, a pit of glee bursting in Eddie’s stomach. Jumping from the quarry equals freedom, a hot summer day and love for all of his friends, but in particular Richie.

Eddie keeps his head underwater until his lungs burn, eyes closed and allowing himself to just feel all the sensations. Then, something tickles the back of his leg, and the peaceful moment is over. He kicks back the surface, away from the spot where he could swear something touched him, and searches around for Richie.

Richie, with his wet black hair clinging to his forehead, strands of it sticking out in every direction, and his droplet covered glasses, roving more of Eddie’s heart each minute they’re near each other. He’s never looked more beautiful, and Eddie has never had to fight the urge to kiss him as much as he does now.

‘See, I told you I wouldn’t stare Eds, I can’t even see anything with all these splatters on my glasses.’

The moon reflects on the water, so that it’s impenetrable, and neither Rich nor Eddie can look down and see their lower body parts.

What Eddie can see is enough anyway, Richie’s shoulders and part of his chest hold Eddie’s attention, and he forgets to respond to Richie’s comment.

His eyes land on a dark bruise, just on the bottom of Richie’s neck, a remnant of their fight with Pennywise earlier that day. Without thinking, without standing still on the consequences of such an action, Eddie swims closer, stretches his arm out, and lingers his fingertips over the bruise. He carefully positions his body to not touch any other body part of Richie’s except for his fingers on his neck.

He makes an inquisitive noise, thumb stroking over the injury in what he hopes to be a calming matter. He physically can’t pull away, entranced with the way he moves and responds to him, trying but failing to get his fill of Richie clenched.

‘Eddie’, Richie whispers, scared to break the silence and the intimate moment. ‘It’ll be fine. And hey, at least he didn’t do anything to my dick.’

‘Yeah, would have been a shame if it were to become even smaller.’

Richie snorts, retaliating the jest with a wave of dirty water aimed at Eddie.

Eddie gasps, spitting out a bit of water that managed to sneak into his mouth. ‘Oh you’re on.’

The two of them chase each other, and if it weren’t for the fact that they were both naked, Eddie would have thrown his entire body weight in the game to push Richie underwater. As it stands, they just splash back and forth until they’re exhausted and the remnants of their laughter dies out, barely enough energy left to stay afloat side by side.

‘Did you have this much fun with Bryan?’ Eddie asks, a bit envious. He hates how he’s still stuck on the Bryan thing, hates that his mind keeps popping images of them doing the exact same thing only to end it with a kiss.

‘What?’

‘With Bryan, the guy you did all that other stuff with?’

‘Oh no, me and Bryan – we were never together like that.’ Back at the hotel room, Eddie figured that that was a ploy to distract Bev, something Richie just said because he couldn’t comfortably admit the real intent of their relationship. But he’s never lied to Eddie, and his eyes, magnified by his glasses, seem so sincere, Eddie has no other option but to believe him. ‘I-I’m- some other guy already has that place all taken up.’

Eddie stupid, oblivious and dense and everything in between. He knows Richie isn’t talking about him, he knows he could never be the guy Richie would hold all hope out for – he also secretly hopes it’s none of the losers -, but he wants to be so bad. Just one time, just one kiss and he’d be sated enough to let go of his feral behavior towards any potential love interest Richie might have. Just one time.

‘Richie’, Eddie starts, biting his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. He’s taking a huge risk, by foreseeing a rejection but hoping that Richie won’t drop him as a friend because of this. If Eddie doesn’t do this, he’ll never stop wondering what it feels for their lips to meet. He’ll never get over Richie because he never got to experience any with him.

‘Can I kiss you?’ He risks releasing his lip.

Richie is visibly shocked. ‘What? What the fuck? Eddie is this a joke?’

The joke is, as usual, all on Eddie who regrets ever opening his mouth in the first place. He could try to laugh it off, say that it was a joke, but that would mean that he pretends to make a jest out of something Richie has struggled with for his entire life. He’s stuck between a rock and a hard place. Left with no other options but to further dig his own grave, Eddie decides to be honest. At least that means he gets to keep part of his integrity.

‘No Richie of course not, I wouldn’t do that to you. I’m sorry. Look I like you but it’s obviously one sided and I just wanted to know what it felt like to kiss you but it was a stupid request and I shouldn’t have asked you that. Oh god, I never even asked if you were dating someone –‘

‘Eds?’

‘- Fuck can we please forget I said anything so we can still hang out?’

‘Eddie?’

‘What?’

‘Yes. Please kiss me.’

Eddie gapes with his mouth open, struggling for breath and for words. He’s half convinced he misinterpreted  the words, but his tilted head proves otherwise. Eddie doesn’t question it further, counting his lucky start for once, and leaning in to his emotions and Richie, breaching the water to get to him.

Their kiss is surprisingly gentle for the ungovernable lead up prior to it. Richie’s lips taste like lake water, but deeper underneath lies a tang of something distinctively Richie. Eddie can’t wait to devour him whole once he’s cleaned up. Their lips move together in tandem, a perfect harmony that for once neither are willing to break.

They pull back, Richie’s arms circling Eddie’s waist, and he smiles. His smile mixed with the love stricken gleam in his eyes, mysteriously tells Eddie that Richie feels the exact same way he does. His chest caves with happiness.  

‘I like you too, if it wasn’t obvious. A lot more than Bryan.’

‘For the love of God can we never mention that again? It’s embarrassing. No, Hush’, Eddie says urgently, covering Richie’s mouth with his palm when he opens his mouth to conjure up another joke.

‘Fine,’ Richie says while pulling away from Eddie’s hand. ‘How about we talk about something else then? How the fuck are we supposed to get to our clothes?’

[stellar-alley]

•The One With The Monster•

Hey guys! Just a little warning before this chapter starts, I will be touching on religion, but it is in no way accurate and I am not trying to offend anyone in any way. This is all simply for the story, so if I say anything please do not take offence.

Also: This story is based on the song Monster by Dodie, so if you'd like to listen to it while reading then it can help set the mood.

Enjoy!

~

"So what are we going to do with him?" The arc angel glances over at his associate.

"Well, I suppose we could always assign him to an unsolvable case, someone who can not be saved. That way he will stay on earth forever" The lower level angel suggested.

"We could always assign him to-" The arc angel tapped a name the list he held with his index finger.

"Hm... Good choice. A demon he's bound to fall in love with, he will be gone within a decade. Clever" She smirked at him.

"Would you like for me to inform him? Or shall I?" He asked as she shook her head.

"Oh no don't you worry, I will tell the boy about his new and permanent position"

(Basically, our little angel was just assigned a case to a demon where he'd inevitably fall in love and die, all because they couldn't accept that he was gay)

~

Tell me again about how it hurts

"Okay... Eddie please, just tell me again how much it hurts" Richie leaned forward to cup Eddie's face with his hand. The shorter boy pushed him away. Suddenly Eddie was up and of the bed, pulling at the ends of his hair as pain flashed through his eyes.

"I-It feels like someone stabbed me in the back with a needle and I can feel the fucking venom spread through my system. Like roots of a fucking weed growing" He hissed.

Shit... This is what I was worried about

Being awfully loud for an introvert

There was a moment where Richie didn't speak, he just let Eddie rage.

Eddie sat down on the edge of the bed, practically hugging himself, with blank eyes and an emotionless face, "God, I can feel it seeping into my blood" he sighed. "Rich... Baby, what's happening to me?" Eddie's fear-filled voice cracked as his eyes grew watery.

Richie couldn't even meet his gaze as he muttered a guilt-filled, "E-Eddie... I'm so, so sorry".

Eddie's brow scrunches together, he tilted his head like a confused puppy. "Richie... what did you do?".

~

Richie moved out of his family's house at the young age of 22. His parents were very reluctant to let him live on his own, worried that he'd somehow spill the family secret, start the next set of witch trials or something. He was a demon after all. He loved Maggie and Wentworth with his entire heart, but as Panic At The Disco once said, if you love me let me go.

He wasn't a monster, neither were his parents. They were just two angels in love who made a wrong choice, so of course, they were thrown down to earth, banished. And heaven forbid there be any angels on earth that aren't guarding a human, so Maggie and Wentworth there stripped of their white angelic feathers and gifted new ones, darker ones.

Still, they were just as magical, just as magnificent. Long and elegant,  they shimmered like the dark night sky. Their wings only came out when they wanted them to, unfurling like a red carpet being rolled out, it was one of the best feelings in the world to Richie. But if not then they just kinda went poof, disappearing. Although they would have to let their wings out at least once a week or else they'd wake up with major back pains. Sometimes Richie would even do it subconsciously in his sleep, he'd wake up from a nightmare and he'd just be curled up in his own dark wings. It was oddly comforting. When they went full dark angel, they had the wings as well as small black horns that would peak out through Richie's equally as dark curls. There were also dark eyes and sharp fangs.

There were other things that came with being a demon. They had magical powers, to a certain extent, they could make things happen, some call it miracles. Oh and also if they were to lash out and lose control, one would be able to see their pointy fangs and blood-red eyes. Richie had always been in love with his demon eyes. Their normal brown colour turned to a deep red, and the rest of the whites in his eyes turned black, making him look like a total satanic worshiper. Which they weren't by the way just cause they were demons didn't mean they had to worship the dark lord.

His place was magnificent, to say the least. It was a one-bedroom apartment with a kitchen and living room and just enough space for an office corner. But he made it work. He was only one person after all. He tried to keep everything organized, only half failing, which had surprised even himself. The apartment wasn't messy, he kept the dirty clothes in the hamper and the trash in the bin. Although he did always have a couple of dirty dishes in the sink and way too many papers on his desk, but he didn't mind.

Everything changed about two months after he moved in. He was sitting at his desk, some chill music on the in the background (Fly by Bloodwich to be precise. Recommended by Stan) when he heard something smash and fall from outside in the hallway. Richie waited a moment before he decided to go make sure no one was like... bleeding out on the floor.

Stepping out into the hallway that connected all the apartments, he noticed another male figure. Richie couldn't make out his features as he was crouching down on the floor in front of his door, back towards Richie. The guy had dropped a vase, pieces of porcelain scattered across the floor.

"Shit shit shit! Mom's gonna kill me!" The guy whispered, he frantically tried to collect all the pieces.

Richie knew he could help, alongside his miracle abilities, he also had a little bit of mind control. And he couldn't bear to hear this guy whimper about this damn vase any longer. He was going to command the guy to back away and he'd miracle the vase back to its original state, then just clean up the boy's memories a little before letting him go, so he wouldn't question the now fixed vase.

Before he gave the command he allowed his eyes to roll back into his head, they reverted back into their demonic state as he commanded, "Stop". Richie's voice stern and deep, it always got that way when he commanded someone to do something.

The boy froze.

"What?" He suddenly jumped up from his position on the floor. Richie wiped his eyes away, they changed back to their normal brown just as his eyes met the eyes of the other boy's. For a moment he could've sworn that the other's eyes were blue, but not like, blue but blue. A blue that could give the sky and sea a run for their money, a blue that'd make someone have to shield their eyes cause it was so bright. But he blinked just as Richie tried to focus on their colour, and suddenly they were brown, just brown.

"Sorry... I uh... Thought you were my neighbour, they party a lot and I always tell them to shut the fuck up" Richie told a terrible lie. No one on his floor partied, they were the Losers floor after all. He knew how weird he sounded so he quickly kept going, he tried to get rid of the awkward tension. "Sorry about the vase" Richie rubbed anxiously at his neck.

"W-What vase?" The guy asked with a lifted eyebrow.

"The one that broke..." His voice drifted off when he looked over and saw the vase that sat perfectly on the ground beside the other boy's feet. "oh" was all he could say at that moment.

Good going trashmouth. What the fuck just happened?

"I'm Eddie," The guy, who is apparently Eddie, said, forcing the awkwardness away. He stuck out his hand for Richie to shake.

"The name is Tozier, Richie Tozier" He replied and shook Eddie's hand. "Moving in I see?" He motioned to the boxes that line the hallway.

Eddie's eyes went wide for a moment, maybe a moment too long before let out a laugh mixed sigh, "Yeah, this is me" he pointed to the door right across from Richie, the sight caused the trashmouth to smile a little bit more at the thought of having a cute neighbour.

Now that Eddie was no longer crouched on the ground he was finally able to get a good look at him. Eddie was a petite guy, for sure a couple inches shorter then Richie and had a smaller build as well. He had a head of neat chocolate brown hair that flopped into his eyes, which he constantly swatted away, Richie found it adorable. He wore a pastel blood hoodie and black skinny jeans and some nameless runners.

"Welcome to the Losers floor" He said with a wink.

"The what?" Eddie asked.

"The Losers floor, that's our name. You've got me, Richard Trashmouth Tozier, the leader of course" He nods, "Beverly Marsh, the badass" Richie points to the apartment beside his own. "Benjamin Hanscom, the nerd" He points to the farthest room, the one after Bev's. "Mike the animal lover, he has a cat, but don't tell the landlord" Richie smirked, he gestured to the room across from Ben's. "And then there's Bill and Stanley. God, I don't know how they fit two people in that fucking apartment, let alone a god damn bird".

Eddie's eyes went wide at the statement, "A bird?".

"Yeah, Staniel loves them. I think her name is like Alley or something" Both of the boys turn to the camera like it's the office.

He leaned casually against the doorframe to his apartment, "Need a hand with the boxes, Edwardo?" Richie asked.

Eddie had to resist the urge to shoot the nickname down and deny his offer, but he knew that be seeing more of Richie in his life. Eddie was his guardian angel after all (;

~

Eddie was an angel, well he was pretty sure he still was. Eddie always had an enteral battle going on inside of him. They fought over what was right if he should be listening to his lord and saviour or to his heart. He repressed his feelings for centuries, but love always won. Coming out was something. (I don't feel comfortable going into details). But everyone seemed okay with it, sure some hated the idea but everyone liked Eddie. And as luck would have it, a week later he got his first official Guardian placement, Richard Tozier. They'd given him everything he needed, a book full of fake memories and a storyline to follow, it was all set, well... kinda. They basically just gave him the job, no further explanation on why Richie needed to be guarded or anything at all for that matter. They just told him he had 3 days to prepare before being shipped out.

Living on earth was something. But the guys above gave him some books and tips to keep his heavenly side a secret.

Don't fly in the city, don't use your powers unless necessary,  and never, ever tell your person about your secret.

All they said was don't fly in the city, they never told him he couldn't just sit in his apartment with his blinds drawn and his wings out, so that's what he did most nights. He had specific shirts and hoodies with little slits in the back so his wings could come and go with ease. Sometimes he'd just opt to sit shirtless on his couch while watching Will and Grace reruns.

With no knowledge of what he needed to guard Richie against, Eddie simply chose to be the friendly neighbour that was always there to help. But then he realized how dreadfully annoying Richie can be, and then their iconic banter began. But during all of their arguments and bickering, a spark was lit. The two went from friendly neighbours to each other best friends. They'd developed countless traditions that were carried out throughout the week, Taco Tuesday, well that was just the day they went to eat at Burrito Gringo. There were also Sunday laundry nights, where they'd spend countless hours in the creepy basement laundry room laughing their asses off about some random ass shit since anything was hilarious after 1 am. Although on Mondays, both of the boys always seemed to be oddly busy. Maybe it's because these are the days when they both hiked to different parts of the city, heading deep into the forest, away from civilization before letting their wings out and taking flight.

Around the one-year anniversary of Eddie moving in, Richie had no doubt in his mind about 2 things. 1) That he was head over heels for Eddie fucking Kasbrak, and 2) that said Eddie fucking Kaspbrak was also an angel. How did he know this? Well, the first day the two met, Eddie literally miracle-d the vase with shiny blue eyes. These eyes were not only a one-time occurrence, sometimes when Eddie laughed a little too hard, the times he got a little bit too embarrassed, or when he sneezed too hard, or if Richie's touch lingered a little bit too long on Eddie's body, they'd appear. Even though it was always only for a moment, blink and you'll miss them, Richie always noticed. And one day when Richie was walking home from the radio station he may or may not have noticed that he could see perfectly into Eddie's apartment. From there, he watched the short boy grow angelic wings from his fucking back. So, yeah Richie kinda knew Eddie was an angel.

He never brought it up, for various reasons. Richie knew a lot about demons but he also knew his fair share about angels, and he knew that if word got out to the people above about someone knowing Eddie's secret, he'd be in deep shit.

Even though the trashmouth knew what he saw, he could practically feel the angelic powers pour out of his little angel, but he didn't want to face the facts. He didn't want to believe that the boy he loved was an angel. They could probably be together, to hell with the sides! They'd make it work... But then came the inevitable, the biggest thing that stood in their way. Something everybody knew.

An angel and a demon could never share a kiss. It was a curse put upon the first angel and demon who fell in love, all those years ago. The curse states that when the two opposing creatures kiss, the being of light will lose their spark, it will go dark, they will go dark. Basically it means that Richie was to kiss Eddie, Eddie would lose his wings, and he'd turn into the same beast that Richie was. Or even worse, Eddie could die, if he wasn't able to survive the turn.

So Richie suppressed everything, his thoughts, his ideas, his feelings. Anything that could lead to having a crush on Eddie was shoved into a box and stuffed into his metaphorical closet. He wouldn't allow himself to be the reasoning behind Eddie's banishment, he couldn't... Richie wouldn't be able to live with himself if he knew that he was the reason his little angel was turned dark. So he made a vow to never kiss Eddie.

So Eddie kissed Richie instead.

~

It had been officially one year and one month since Eddie moved in across the hall from Richie, and it has been exactly one month since the two started dating. Richie was the first one to make a move, he was reluctant since he couldn't kiss Eddie, but he could see the yearning in his angel's eyes and he really just wanted to be happy, to make Eddie happy. That's all he ever wanted.

So he gave in. Eddie confessed his feelings one night after Richie's failed attempt at a tinder date with some asshat named Connor. Eddie spilled his guts out about since the first time he saw Richie in the hallway, he has been living on this high, the feeling that he only got when he was with Richie. And that feeling gave him life. What Richie didn't know was that the life Eddie was feeling was the feeling of finally living. He was doing what he wanted, on his own terms, with the man he loved. That night forward they were officially boyfriends.

Eddie found it kind of odd that they didn't share their first kiss after they both confessed their true feelings. Instead, once Richie finished spilling his guts, he simply wrapped Eddie up in his arms and the two held each other, their hearts beating as one. That night they slept together, no sex, just being wrapped up in each other's arms was enough. And Eddie was okay with that.

~

It was just another morning that the demon and the angel had woken up together. Eddie had woken up first. To no surprise, he found his limps were tangled up with Richie's. But once the demon had woken up, the two sat facing each other in bed for a while. Until Eddie practically jumped on Richie, cupping his face and kissing his lips.

Richie was left in shock. They'd kissed. And it was amazing. There was only a single moment where Richie's mind burst at the thought of their lips touching, but instead, he drowned it out by passionately kissing Eddie back. Eddie had pushed Richie onto his back, playing with his hair as the made out on the bed, that's when Eddie jackknifed off of Richie. That's when he started to turn, and that's where we are now.

~

"Eds, baby I'm so sorry. I should've told you sooner" Eddie snapped his head to face Richie. His angel eyes were showing, and they were blazing like a roaring fire. The flames so burning hot that they turned sky blue.

"What the hell did you do?!" He hissed, anger and confusion laced his voice.

Richie could barely let out a stuttery, "I-I'm..." that's when he let his eyes roll back. With regret he let his demon eyes roll forward, he hoped it would be more than enough of a response.

His blue eyes snapped open wider than ever, "Y-You!" he shrieked. Eddie went to stand and get the fuck out but before he knew it, he'd stumbled over his own feet and landed on the carpeted floor of Richie's bedroom. With the pain that radiated through his body, he felt something, stress relieved from his shoulders, but now there was more weight on them than usual. His wings. Eddie curled up, the pain simply had more space to cover.

Richie slid out of his bed and shuffled over to Eddie. "Please can I just-"

"No, NO! Get away from me" Eddie backed away, "You demon fucker, you did this to me" he hissed. Hastily he got to his feet,  he stumbled out of the room.

Get out of my room, smile wiped clean Isn't it weird to be so mean?

Eddie had sworn Richie out countless times, but nothing stung as badly as the words that just slipped out of his mouth. He couldn't even begin to imagine the pain Eddie was going through. The guys below always described it as the feeling of what it's like to burn in the deep pits of hell. But the least he could do was make sure Eddie didn't have to go through this alone.

He marched into the main area of his apartment where he spotted Eddie had sprawled out over the couch. The demon moved quickly to crouch down beside Eddie. The angel's eyes were in a half-open stat, but once they caught sight of Richie they reverted back to their blue shocked look. But now they were focused on something just above Richie's eyes.

I'm guessing that I've grown horns I guess I'm human no more I can tell I've rotted in your brain

"Oh... Sorry. This happens sometimes" He smirked down at the shorter boy. His hands wandered up to brush up against the small horns that had appeared in his dark curls.

The shorter boy was hugging himself, the pain pounding in his head. "I can't believe you'd do this to me. Turn me... Make me into a monster" Eddie breathed breath after breath, each word filled with a hatred that was new to the both of them, and Richie hated every moment of it.

Oh, how easily passion twists You think I'm a crazy bitch I craft my words to fit your head 'Cause no one listens to the dead

"You think I wanted to do this? Do you think I wanted to turn the fucking love of my life into the same thing that haunts me? The thing that looms over my fucking head every goddamn day of my life? Eddie I always wanted what was best for you, that's why I joke and I play and I never let you in because I didn't want to get close. I didn't want to feel anything for you but I couldn't" Richie's emotions were about to overflow when he realized the amount of stress that sat on his back. So with a roll of his kneck and a stretch of his arms, he allowed his pitch-black demonic wings to magically roll out behind him.

If Eddie's eyes could grow bigger then they already were, then they did. "LIES! That's all your kind does. It's all been lies, and to think I fell in love with a fucking spawn of satan".

The words burned like a slab of meat over an open flame. There was one way that Richie knew he could capture Eddie's attention, grab his attention by the balls and tell him what's what.

So maybe I will talk to you The only way I know how to I've said my speech through sharpened teeth

"Edward mother fucking Kaspbrak. Do you think, that I would spend over a year, lying to my dumbass neighbour just to turn him? 365 days, 8760 hours, 525600 fucking minutes, all so hell could have one more damned demon? Eds, Eddie, light of my life, I never, ever, planned on turning you" Richie's voice was stern and serious. It was something that was new for Eddie. He couldn't help but notice the fact that Richie's teeth had sharpened into fangs, poking out from behind his lips as he spoke. They must have unconsciously lengthed as his emotions grew stronger.

Although he wasn't focused on Richie's new way of talking. He was focused on the words, the phrase he just said. Light of my life. A direct quote from The Shinning, the same words Jack Torrance told his wife Wendy during the climax of the movie. It was their safe word, the phrase they said when something was happening when they needed help, when they needed each other. If something was happening and the other needed help, no questions asked. Suddenly everything became so much more serious to Eddie.

Eddie curled deeper in on himself, with closed eyes, and a weal voice, he wept, "Then why am I dying".

Richie's dark heart broke at the sight of his boyfriend who crumbled before him. "oh... Spaghetti" He muttered, collapsing beside him, throwing his arms around the angel. "I-I'm gonna figure this out".

With that declaration, the two stayed like that for a while, Eddie curled on the couch with his wings behind him with Richie's arms wrapped around him. Their foreheads pressed against each other's. Richie's wings even lowered down and wrapped around the angel. When the dark wings touched the lighter ones, it was like the first time their hands brushed up against each other. It sent a shiver up both of their spines.

Eddie's body had almost grown used to the pain, it was numbing, his body ached, but the feeling of Richie's touch made everything just a little bit better. As much as Eddie wanted to be mad about this, it was Richie's fault, deep down Eddie knew his boyfriend didn't mean it.

The angel felt the demonic presence that cuddled against him shift and move, followed by the all too familiar 'Click' sound of Richie's phone turning on. He tilted his head upwards and saw Richie's head was perched on top of his own while he scrolled through the contacts on his phone. "Seriously rich? Ruining our moment? I'm literally dying you asshole" Eddie's voice had a little less pain and some more confusion mixed in there, and maybe even a little laughter.

The demon's lips turned into a little smirk. He slowly slipped off of the other, "I've got this angel, just give me a moment. Don't die!" He hollered whilst he walked into the other room.

Richie had his parents on speed dial and the phone rang three times before they answered. He cut to the chase and asked what to do if an angel was turning. Of course, Maggie informed him that there's nothing he can do, the change will most likely kill the angel.

Richie's voice came out sounding way too chirpy for the situation he was in, "hmm, no. My angel won't be dying today. So we need another way".

There was a sudden muffled sound, followed by a very quick argument of few words before Wentworth picked up the phone, "Son? yeah, I'll call you if I find anything until then, keep the angel awake and alive. Love you son" and the line went dead.

You break the rules and spikes grow from your skin

Eddie had heard the stories, every angel knew them. The ones of the curse and what it's done to the angels that were stupid enough to fall for a damned demon. But for some reason, Eddie knew that deep down he would've kissed Richie again if he had the chance to go back, he'd do it again and again, no matter what the cost. Because deep down he knew that this boy.... this demon, was the only person Eddie truly ever felt this way about. He's never cared about anyone the same way he cared about Richie, it was love.

The angel could sense the demon when he re-entered the room. At that same moment, another jolt of pain shot into his body. This time it started at his lower back and spread like roots to a virus up his back.

"H-Holy shit" Eddie's eyes snapped up to meet Richie's, worry washed over him when he noticed that the demon's face had gone as white as a ghost.

"What? Rich, what is it?" he questioned. Richie stared in shock as black veins slowly kept up the back of Eddie's neck. They edged their way up to his neck and into his wings. They trained the whites of his wings as they. It seeped into the feathers and kept growing, black spikes in a world of white.

"Eddie, hey, sweety, trust me okay? It looks bad, I won't lie. But we're gonna beat this, you and me" Richie's voice was reassuring, but Eddie still needed to see what was happening. He rapidly sat up, ignoring the pain that it caused. He moved towards the full-length mirror Richie had proper up against the wall in his living room.

His voice was weak, only able to let out a soft "No....". Richie stood behind him, which was good since Eddie basically collapsed after seeing himself, the shock had overtaken his body.

Please let the devil in

Richie, of course, caught his boyfriend. He cradled the boy in his arms, softly stroking his hair while he wept into his sweater. The apartment was silent, the only sound to be heard was the soft sobs and sniffles that the angel.... that Eddie let out as Richie held him close.

A meter apart, we blankly stare

The demon wasn't that strong so at one point he had to slowly lower himself and the boy who laid in his arms to the ground. That's where they laid for a while. The pain pulsed through Eddie's body which caused the tears to keep falling. Richie held him tight, one hand holding the other's while the other would run through Eddie's hair, in slow calming motions. The two laid on the kitchen floor, Richie's back was leaning against the counter for support. Both of their wings were sprawled out everywhere as they laid together.

After countless minutes, Eddie's weeping stopped, so did the rising and falling of his chest as he breathed. "Eds?" Richie asked, voice low. When he was left with no response he asked again. "Eddie?". Now worry filled his face as he turned his boyfriend over to see his face had gone soft, eyes closed, lips slightly parted. "HEy, Eddie, Eddie?"

We shout in our heads, "Are you still in there?"

"no, no, NO... no" Richie winned, he ran his hands along Eddie's body. He moved his index finger and his middle finger along the boy's neckline, he tried to find a pulse, anything. But there were no signs of life.

Well, this ends bad then, we knew it would

"It can't end like this... I-I won't let it".

The sound of his phone ringing cut through the air like a knife. He grabbed his phone from his pocket, he smashed the answer button when he realized it was his father who was calling. "What?" His voice came out weak, hopeless even.

"Son... Blood" His father sounded out of breath. "A demon's blood can change him, bring him back".

"What? Dad, no... No, I can't turn him, h-he's an angel"

"Richie, either you turn him or he dies. You don't want him to die, do you?" The question made something snap deep within the demon. He knew what his dad was doing by the tone in his voice. He'd used it in the past to manipulate Richie, not in a bad way, but he needed it right now. His dad knew he wouldn't want to lose Eddie, so he left him no choice.

"Fine" Richie hissed, he clicked the end call button before dropping his phone.

So we won't eat our words, 'cause they don't taste good

(Mild blood warning)

The demon slowly moved his boyfriend off of him and laid him carefully onto the cool tile floor beneath them. Richie moved quickly through his kitchen, he got one of the various knives from a drawer before he took a seat again beside Eddie.

"Okay... Eddie, I'm so sorry" Richie apologized again for the 100th time. He took his own hand and with the knife, he made a clean cut across his palm. The demon hissed, fangs poking out from his mouth, at the pain.

Before he could change his mind, the demon carefully picked up his boyfriend's hand from where it sat on his chest. He studied it for a moment, examing the soft skin against his. He shook his head, cleared his mind. It was hard, his hand began to shake the moment he gripped the knife.

Just do it. He thought.

"I love you," He said as the knife drew blood.

The moment he was done with the knife he let it clatter to the ground. Instead, he put Eddie's hand in his, pushing their cuts together in hopes that enough blood would enter the boy's system for this cult-like ritual to work.

He held their hands together, he pressed his lips up against the back of Eddie's hand, and just held them.

Eddie's eyes snapped open. His heart beat strong and hard inside his chest. He looked over and saw Richie, a demon, his demon. He held their hands together to his chest, his head tilted downwards.

His voice was weak, tiered from the aches and pains, "Rich..." he whispered.

The demon's head jolted upwards. He was overwhelmed by emotions, he's alive. A smile spread across his lips as he let out a small, "Eds".  Without missing a beat he jumped at him, wrapping him in his arms and hugging him.

The sudden action caught the former angel by surprise. "H-Hey... It's good to see you too trashmouth".

Tears began to fall from Richie's eyes, unable to hold back his emotions any longer. He slowly let go and moved to face his boyfriend, "I, thought you were dead. You flatlined" he looked into Eddie's eyes and suddenly his face fell a little.

The angel's eyes were still blue, but there were no whites to them. They were actually similar to Richie's, which he loved. The only difference was that instead of red, it was blue, and everything else was pitch black.

Eddie noticed immediately and mirrored his emotions, fear, and worry. Which Richie caught on to and quickly changed this up, "I have something to tell you". Eddie simply responded with a small nod, "So you know the curse right?".

"Of course, everyone does".

"Exactly. So, uh... Yeah we kissed, and you almost- um, ya know... died. But I brought you back! You're here now, and you're alive. But y-you aren't the same" He glanced away, unable to meet his gaze, suddenly ashamed of his red and black demonic eyes. "I-I guess it's better if I show you".

Richie slowly got to his feet and helped Eddie to stand, the boy's legs were a little wobbly but he wrapped an arm around Richie's waist for support as he led the shorter boy towards the mirror. What stood before him sent a little shiver down Eddie's spin. He looked into his new eyes, the blue he was used to seeing remained the same, but instead of the normal white that usually surrounded them was replaced with a black as dark as night. The darkness grew wide for a second, his eyes stared at himself in shock. His wings had changed as well, the black veins were now gone, and so were the white feathers he knew so well. Although his wings weren't black like Richie's (Which Eddie kinda found dark and sexy), his new wings were a silver-grey, they shimmered under the light, slightly changing as he moved and tilted his body.

I'm guessing that I've grown horns I guess I'm human no more

The no longer angel noticed something else. Little spikes poking up through his brown messy hair. The little horns felt smooth to the touch.

"I'm so sorry Eddie. I never meant for any of this to happen" Richie kept his eyes on his hand, where the cut had already healed.

"Richie... We could've never been together before. An angel and a demon? That's insane, totally against every rule, on both sides" His voice was stern, anger slowly building up as he went on. It all changed within a moment, "But I'm not an angel anymore..." His voice drifted off a moment before Richie realized what he meant. The dark-haired boy stared wide-eyed at his boyfriend,  not 100% sure what was going to happen. His heart began to flutter. Then the smile he's grown to love spread over Eddie's lips, even going up to his demonic eyes.

"So it's just you and me now" Without missing a beat, Eddie closed the gap between Richie and himself, he moved his hand to grab the collar of Richie's shirt before he pulled him down towards him and kissed him.

~

"So what now?" Richie asked his boyfriend, who's head was leaned against his chest as the two laid together in Richie's bed after a hot and intense makeout session. It left both of them sweaty and speechless. The power that the two shared was something neither of them had ever felt before, leaving them both a little mad that they hadn't done it sooner.

Two ugly creatures, two sinister preachers

"Well... Now that we're two ugly creatures, two sinister preachers" The jokes rolled off his tongue. Richie could get used to these demon themed jokes.

Blind to the past, like a couple of monsters

The newly deemed demon rolled over to lay propped up on his elbows, facing Richie. "Rich there's one thing I know for sure. Heaven can't get to me, and I have a feeling Hell can't get to you". Eddie hadn't a clue about Richie's past, but he knew he'd find out sooner or later since they were in this mess together. Two separate sparks that by some miracle collided, creating something amazing.

"So it looks like it's just us..." Eddie's voice drifts off.

"You and me" Richie confirms.

"Us, together" The two smiled at that thought, "Just a couple of monster".

~

Word count: 6119

D A M N

Guys, I'm pretty sure this is the longest chapter/oneshot I've ever written. I had so much fun writing this chapter! Exploring their backgrounds and giving the whole angel x demon thing a go, and I really enjoyed it, I hope you guys did too!

As I said this chapter is based on the song Monster by Dodie. I knew the moment I listened to this song that there was some deeper story behind the lyrics and I needed to bring it to life.

Anyways that's all for me! I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter, and don't forget to like and comment, it shows that you like my work and encourages me to keep writing.

Until next time

so long and goodnight.

[cinnabea]

caramel and Kacchan

Forgot to post this here! Originally a gift twitter thread for @bergbath cuz she loves that sweet Kacchan smell, here is some bkdk fluff with just a sprinkle of pining angst (with a sappy, happy ending) after the cut! (cw for mention of panic attacks and symptoms)

~~

The first time Satou made caramel in the dorm kitchen, Izuku had such an intense, visceral reaction to it he had to excuse himself back to his room. 

His heart was throbbing in staccato bursts like he had just imbibed a gallon of coffee. Leaning back against the inside of his closed door, Izuku clutched at the front of his shirt. What was happening? Was he having a heart attack!? Izuku was too young for that!! 

Although, Izuku lead a pretty stressful life. Maybe this was just the result of that. Yes, Izuku's anxiety and multiple brushes with death had taken their toll and he was left with the cardiovascular system of a seventy year old. 

With a sigh he sank to the floor, resigned to his early demise from a weak heart.

After a few minutes of waiting to die, his racing heart slowed down, and Izuku realized.. he was fine.

Well. Okay then. 

The second time that sweet, burnt sugary smell wafted its way from the stove to his nose, Izuku went to see Recovery Girl.

He had calmed down considerably by the time he got there, and he almost turned right around at the door. 

But the little old woman heard him and chased him into her office with her cane.

“You’re alright,” Recovery Girl said when she finished checking him over. “But it sounds like you might have had a panic attack.”

“Oh,” Izuku replied dumbly. Those weren't new. 

But Izuku didn't think it was a panic attack. 

Satou switched to lemon meringue pie, and Izuku forgot about it.

Until his next sparring match-up with Kacchan. 

They were fairly evenly matched, but a quick twist and roll that Izuku didn't predict left him flat on his back with Kacchan's chest pinning him to the ground.

Pressed over his face. 

Trying to inhale through the uniform material suffocating him, Izuku's airways were suddenly assaulted by the overwhelming scent of burning sugar. His heart, already beating fast from the fight, spiked so hard he was sure it cracked his sternum. 

Izuku struggled wildly, forgoing the protocol of tapping out in favor of panicking. Kacchan held him down at first, waiting for the yield-- but rolled off after a few moments.

He stared down at Izuku, eyes blazing; furious and pissed off but something more. 

“The hell, nerd? I hit you that hard?”

Izuku was panting, breathless, heart slamming against his ribs and pulse trying its hardest to burst right out of his skin. He could feel how hot and red his face was.

No good, no good!! Izuku had to get out of there, fast. 

“Panic attack,” he wheezed, before shakily clambering to his feet and booking it out of the gymnasium.

But instead of going to Recovery Girl, he went straight back to his dorm room, barely making it under the covers before he started to break down. 

Of course.

It wasn't caramel, it was Kacchan. 

Izuku didn't know why he didn't make the connection before, it was so obvious. It's not like he had never smelled Kacchan's smoky, signature scent before, a side effect of his nitroglycerin sweat.

But Izuku only just now realized he was in love with him. 

Was so in love, in fact, that the same burning sugar aroma from other sources caused Izuku physical pain.

Tears dampened his pillow as they leaked out from scrunched up eyelids.

For it should have cause his heart to swell, to lift, sending him in eddying whirls of happiness. 

But how could it, when Kacchan would never love him back? 

Izuku's door banged open.

Izuku froze.

If he didn't move, if he just stayed perfectly still, maybe whoever had burst in wouldn't notice the lump hiding under his bedsheets and blankets.

Sure, Izuku.

“Oi, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

That's a very good question!!! 

His barrier of bedding was ripped away, and Izuku yelped. He quickly rolled to hide his pitiful tear-stained, reddened face, but not fast enough. Never fast enough for Kacchan.

“Seriously, the hell happened?” Kacchan's voice was strangely soft.

“Deku.” 

“M’fine, Kacchan, you can go,” Izuku mumbled. “Th-thanks for checking on me but, really, nothing is wrong-- gah!” he gasped, roughly grabbed by the shoulders and yanked upright.

“Don't you dare fucking lie to me, Deku,” Kacchan hissed.

Izuku hiccuped. 

The way he saw it, he had two options: deflect and deny until Kacchan gave up, and Izuku would take his secret to the grave after years of pining in silence and misery; or, confess, and Kacchan put him into an early grave personally.

Izuku went with option three. 

With a flash of green sparks, Izuku surged forward, shoving out of Kacchan's arms and tumbling to the floor in a tangle of blankets twisted around his feet. Scrambling, he burst out of them, making for the door-- but they had snared him long enough that Kacchan caught his ankle. 

Izuku's face slammed into the carpet.

Kacchan was on top of him in an instant, pressing his sugar-sweet body down into Izuku's back. The smell was cloying, smothering. Izuku sobbed.

“No, no,” he cried, practically moaning. He began to hyperventilate, heart pounding, wheezing. 

Kacchan nearly vaulted up off of him.

Izuku was rolled over harshly, and he found himself staring up into horrified red eyes hovering directly above him.

“The fuck,” Kacchan whispered, voice strangled.

Sniffling, Izuku wrapped his arms around his wrecked face, shielding it. 

“Sorry,” he said quietly, voice muffled behind his forearm. “I just found out I'm in love with you.”

...

Izuku waited for death. 

With a thump, Kacchan fell back on his butt, his back against Izuku's bed and his wrists on his knees. His head hit the mattress and he stared up at the ceiling.

Izuku watched him through a gap in his arms, barely able to breathe. 

Maybe he should try to make a run for it again? His eyes flicked to the door.

“Don't even think about it, idiot,” Kacchan growled.

Izuku squeezed his face. His heart had slowed slightly now that Kacchan had backed off, but the dread of anticipation kept his anxiety high. 

There had been no explosion, no expletive, no HAHH or Tch or What The Fuck. Nothing that Izuku had expected, and now he had no idea at all what was going to happen.

Kacchan continued to sit in silence.

Izuku continued to stew in sniffles. 

“So,” Kacchan finally said. “You're supposed to act like.. that,” he gestured sharply at Izuku's crumpled form still prone on the floor. “If you're in love?”

Izuku slowly unwrapped his arms, pushing himself up onto his elbows. He stared back at Kacchan. He sniffled. 

He had no idea what Kacchan was going to say, but he never would have guessed that.

“Um,” Izuku said, swallowing. “I don't know? I don't think so, I just. Have a really strong reaction when, I, uh. Smell you.”

Kacchan raised one eyebrow, before his face split into a grin. 

“Always knew you were a freak, nerd.”

Izuku felt his face grow incredibly hot. He pulled himself up to sitting so he could hunch over and wrap his arms around his chest instead of his face.

“Not like that, Kacchan,” he protested. 

“No?” Kacchan asked, voice suddenly dangerous, setting off warning bells in Izuku's brain. Before he could heed them, however, Kacchan had pushed off of the bed and into Izuku's space, bringing his unbearable sweet scent back into Izuku's nostrils. 

“So this is fine, then.”

Kacchan was so close! Too close!! Izuku tried to scoot back, but Kacchan caught up his wrists and pulled him forward.

Izuku's heart near punched right out of his chest as he was completely drowned in caramel. 

“You love me?” Kacchan asked, voice soft but full of salt.

Izuku nodded, tears continuing to drip down his flushed face.

“Idiot.”

And Kacchan got even closer. 

If Izuku though Kacchan smelled good, it was nothing compared to how he tasted. Just as sweet and decadent as a carnival confection, with notes of raw power and fire as an aftertaste.

Izuku's heart really was going to give out at this point. But what a way to go. 

Kacchan drew back, licking his lips, smirking.

“Does.. Does Kacchan like me, too?” Izuku asked, breathless. He could hardly let himself hope, even with the kiss that had just happened. The kiss!! Kacchan had kissed him!!

Kacchan rolled his eyes. “What do you think, nerd?” 

Izuku grinned, wet and wobbly.

Kacchan pushed his face away.

“You smell like shit, though.”

[end]

[derryhawkins]

pleaSe write headcanons for the losers club’s kids im in Love with the idea of them as parents!!!

I wrote this with everyone in the same town even tho that’s very unrealistic but oh fucking well, I’m not gonna change a fucking thing. this is more just the kids & their friendship with each other?? if you want me to do one with the Losers as parents, I will! I loved writing this out omg

also i got so invested in this, i gave them names oh my god-

ok this is definitely going to get long lmao so sorry in advance!

their kids would be as close as their parents. lets be real, they probably didn’t have a choice

but they all didn’t like each other at first-

wait ok lets get this straight: Benverly has 1 kid, a girl. she’s got red hair like Bev & blue eyes, but her personality is more like Ben’s & she’s poetic but also other kids are intimidated by her (no one knows why tho she’s just a sweet little thing? maybe it was time she punched a guy in the middle of a soccer game for another girl). her name’s Allison but everyone calls her Ally

Mike & his wife would have 3 kids. 2 boys, 1 girl who’s the middle child. oldest’s name is Mark, the girl’s name is Tiana, and the youngest’s is Ryan. They’re all super caring and make sure their friends smile at least once and they’re the closest bunch of siblings anyones ever seen? Everyone likes them too & they get popular in high school bc of that & they’re all athletic in some way.

Tiana & Ally are same age so they’re bffs instantly and Mark and Ryan by default become Ally’s friends too bc the Hanlon kids are very close. if people wanna go with the ‘original group’ stuff they would be it tbh

then comes in Stenbrough’s kids! 2 boys, Peter and Thomas. Bill & Stan adopted Peter, a Vietnamese boy, around the age of 3 & he’s very shy and anxious and not that sociable. They adopted Tom when he was 13 (Peter’s just one year younger). He’s half-black half-white, biological parents gave him up, and people would think he’s sensitive about it but…he’s not? he doesn’t mind, Stan and Bill are the best parents tbh and he gloats about it. He’s a very outgoing kid but secretly awkward

finally Reddie! they have one boy, one girl. Blake and Kelly. Blake’s the oldest by 2 years, same age as Mark & Tom, and they adopted him when he was a literal baby. growing up he acquired more of Eddie’s personality. when Blake was like …6 they adopted Kelly when she was 4, same age as Tiana & Ally. she acts more like Richie. she’s almost the exact female replica of Richie but she doesn’t have ADHD.

ok now we can back to the kids’ friendship

the 3 Hanlons and Ally were fuckin close. they became friends around ages 6-8 and stuck together ever since. they tried to get Peter to join their friend group but the shy, anti-social, kid he was never really did until loud, obnoxious and loud, but kind Blake and Kelly brought them under their slightly chaotic wings

don’t worry they were nice about it

but Peter didn’t like either of them at first

Kelly teased him a l o t but out of kindness ofc & never stopped calling him Peter Pan or Peter Parker/Spider-Man. Blake was calmer but still loud and sometimes was too idk nice (wow who knew that was a thing). Peter just thought something was up bc he’s used to kids doing mean af things to him after being extremely nice so Peter’s just like a constant state of expecting hurtful shit from both of them

they’re offended bc he tells them out right one day during the summer, around age 10 & K&B are just like… “dude it’s been 3 years wtf”

that’s when Peter finally actually considers them friends bc they explained they care a shit load about him & by the start of the next school year, Ally’s friends with them too and that just brings Tiana, Mark, and Ryan as well

2 years later Tom is in the picture & Peter is once again like “i do not trust the boy where did he come from, he’s gonna shit in my bed or soMETHING”

turns out they get along GREAT & Peter is once again “i hated you” but Tom’s like “same I thought you were a snob bc you’d never talk” “…is this how Kelly & Blake felt” “probably”

all the teachers loathed the group bc even with cute Ally, nice Tiana, shy Peter, and sweet Ryan & Mark, they were all so fucking…wild

hallway fight in high school? probably 5′1′’ Kelly Tozier-Kaspbrak not backing down when she’s in a situation to fight someone both verbally & physically ok. she & Ally are literally the 2 smallests but pack a good punch and/or kick

after school detention? regular attenders are Kelly, Tom, Mark, and Ally. Peter got it once bc someone said the n-word to Ryan and he went off. that’s the first time anyone saw shy Pete red in the face. Blake got it a couple of times for getting into fist fights after someone talked shit about his friends. Ryan got it defending Peter & for spray painting something about the government on some lockers. Tiana get’s it AT LEAST once a month bc she back talks whatever teacher gives her shit

 i’m gonna say it, Tiana and Kelly fucking date

Kelly and Ally are like Bev & Rich 2.0 as best friends ok? ok

idk about the others, if I think about it too much I’ll get even more too invested so lets just leave it at that, you guys can figure out the rest of the dating stuff

Pete has his first panic attack in freshman year of high school in front of the class but Mark, Tom, & Blake are a year above him & the girls and Ryan were still in middle school so he literally had no one & that made him panic more? poor kid :’(

he tries to hide it, as in he tries to not let the others know and lie about how the presentation went

Blake sees through his bullshit instantly, so does Tom ok they’re brothers. Mark doesn’t at first but then he’s like…what’s up with our shy boi after Peter snaps at him for the 1st time

its not until when they’re hanging out that weekend & Peter just starts crying after Kelly asks about it

cue confused and worried Kelly but Peter eventually tells what happened

cue a giant group hug and caring words and a few more tears

the boys are all protective of the girls + Ryan bc they’re the youngest. even Ryan’s protective of the girls too & vice versa. the girls & Ryan are also super protective of the older boys

they just don’t want anything happening to one another bc they’re group is like…a target for bullies. 3 of them are black, one’s Vietnamese, one’s mixed, a few are Not Straight At All

the bullying stops tho somewhat when the Hanlons get recognized for their athletic abilities & when Blake and Tom are deemed as the two hottest guys in school & when Ally is said to be the sweet but slightly scary girl with her cheerleader bff Kelly who you cannot piss off ever or else you’re screwed (& Ally’s secret gf Tiana who’s good af at soccer). Peter’s the cute nerd everyone giggles about – that just makes Kelly call him Peter Parker/Spider-Man more

i need to end this soon & go to bed omg

….but no..

random but they’ve all kissed at one point

whether it be bc of dares or they started dating or hook ups (when they’re of age ofc) or what, they’ve all kissed

they all deny it but everyone sobbed when Mark, Tom, and Blake left for college

and when Peter went the next year

and then the girls

and then small Ryan, ‘The Baby’/’Baby’ ended up being his nickname for them all over the years & he loathes it (but loves it bc..yeah he’s the baby)

their parents call them the losers 2.0 bc they’re all so fucking close

Stan totally got onto Richie & Eddie bc their kids taught Stenbrough’s kids curse words

Ally already knew & taught Mark, Tiana, and Ryan & that ensued with Mike going over to Benverly where Ben just smiles sheepishly and Bev doesn’t really care lmao

Bill & Richie help with any prank the kids wanna do

i wanna write more but I can’t let this get out of hand so

a giant thank you for requesting this!!!!

peace, hope ya liked it 

ONE MORE THING: (holiday bonus) Tom & Peter grow up Jewish bc of Stan so the others do their best to learn about Jewish culture & Hanukkah & other things like that so they can participate in their friends’ traditions & not be confused when either boy starts talking about it

ok now i’m done (sorry for any spelling mistakes or something)

[queencanaries]

The Flash | “Pilot”

“Barry Allen was 11 years old when his mother was killed in a bizarre and terrifying incident and his father was falsely convicted of the murder. With his life changed forever by the tragedy, Barry was taken in and raised by Detective Joe West, the father of Barry's best friend, Iris. Now, Barry has become a brilliant, driven and endearingly geeky CSI investigator, whose determination to uncover the truth about his mother's strange death leads him to follow up on every unexplained urban legend and scientific advancement that comes along. Barry's latest obsession is a cutting edge particle accelerator, created by visionary physicist Harrison Wells and his S.T.A.R. Labs team members, Caitlin Snow and Cisco Ramon, who claim that this invention will bring about unimaginable advancements in power and medicine. However, something goes horribly wrong during the public unveiling, and when the devastating explosion causes a freak storm, many lives are lost and Barry is struck by lightning. After nine months in a coma, Barry awakens to find his life has changed once again – the accident has given him the power of super speed. Thrilled with his new powers, Barry learns how to control them with the help of Dr. Wells and his team. However, keeping his secret from his best friend Iris is proving to be harder than he thought, especially when Joe's new partner, Eddie Thawne, catches her eye. When another meta-human attacks the city, it's time to put Barry's new powers, and himself, to the test.”

It hurts my soul that Barry was bullied. He is too pure for this world.

Nora & Henry are such beautiful humans and parents

“Sorry I’m late”

Iris is already my favourite -- she took his chips, and called him a nerd. I love her. I love them.

BUT HE HAS ALREADY MET THE RIGHT PERSON AND ITS YOU IRIS DAMMIT THIS IS FRUSTRATING HOW DID I SURVIVE THIS

“My name is Harrison Wells” and so it begins...

I just realised they introduced Linda Park in the pilot as a cameo but eventually introduce Linda Park as an important reoccurring character later on. This feels like the Sara Lance thing all over again, haha!

I thought it was so flawless how they incorporated this scene originally aired on ARROW into THE FLASH pilot.

“I’m family.” IRIS IS BREAKING MY HEART </3

CAITLIN AND CISCO

“I need you to urinate in this” hahaha caitlin chill bro

This is literally my least favourite version of Harrison Wells. He genuinely bores the living shit out of me. Ya’ll be hating on HR but at least he’s entertaining.

“Also she’s hot” Cisco is me. Everyone recognises Iris is a babe.

THAT BARRY AND IRIS HUG/REUNION IS EVERYTHING

Joe feels like such a different character in this episode. I feel like they really opened his heart up as the series progresses. He’s quite stiff in his reunion with Barry.

HE’S SUPER SPEEDING ALL OVER THE CITY OMG

oh god the costume they give him to begin with is ridiculous

Iris/Eddie still bugs me. I remember going into the pilot absolutely blind and being so freaking shocked when they kissed. For some reason I just expected Iris/Barry to get together immediately and was like NOPE.

I hate this Joe West. Fuck offffff.

Oliver looks so young here. But oh my god I get chills at the “cool” scene.

THE FLASH SUIT <3

“I am god” “shut the hell up” okay joe I guess I like you again

“Run, Barry, Run!” I guess boring was the wrong word. Harrison can just be a bit of a buzzkill. Star Labs gets fun after he’s gone.

I love how you can see hope return to Caitlin’s face after all of this.

Joe’s entire world is being flipped. He apologised, oh my god. Yes Joe! OH MY GOD HE SAID HIS DAD WAS INNOCENT. LOOK @ THIS DEVELOPMENT. But dammit I hate that he told her not to tell Iris but I completely understand.

No. Nope. I don’t like seeing Henry in prison. My heart </3 breaks.

I can’t handle Barry crying :(((( THIS SCENE IS THE GREATEST

“THE FLASH” (its gonna catch on)

Harrison just stood up and walked and I laughed because it reminded me of Felicity standing up and walking out on Oliver lmao

THE NEWSPAPER HOLY SHIT

Overall, I really love the pilot. It gives me serious Smallville vibes and with that being my favourite show of all time, it’s what hooked me into this show so quickly. Iris was an instant favourite. I forgot that Joe was very anti-Henry and never believed Barry, but that he also had that flipped on its head by episode’s end so it was jarring to see him so different in the first half of the episode. Whenever this show fell onto fatherhood, whether its Barry/Joe or Barry/Henry it always made me tear up. This show is a literal punch to the feels, and that end scene between Barry and his dad was brilliant. I can’t believe how important Caitlin and Cisco are for the show and how little their presence is in this first episode -- that was definitely something I didn’t remember. I think Harrison Wells overshadows them, and once he’s finally off the show (this version of the character who I don’t like) then they kind of evolve and the whole atmosphere at Star Labs changes. That’s how I remember it at least. Outside of those, I’m not a huge fan of Eddie and I hate Iris/Eddie. And I forgot that Iris is kept in the dark for soooo long. So this is going to be a long rewatch for sure. 

[somehow-on]

Notes - 2018

Jews are hipsters, only liking the old books. Christians are bandwagon fans, only into God now that he's popular.

In principle I’m pro-choice, but in practice I’ve never performed an abortion, so I guess I'm a hypocrite.

I like my meat Eddie Murphy-style. (Raw)

I don't have a team. I'm just a spectator calling the balls and strikes as I see them.

A dimwit and a nittit.

Give me.

I don't like sex cause it requires two people. It's basically liking helping someone move, or driving a friend to the airport.

It feels good to know where you are going, even if you do not know and you do not go there. Doubt. Are not sure.

Oh, honey, I have this much fun with everyone.

Kill is a strong word, I prefer to say I “out-competed” them.

Anonymous Grey Figure.

Bright Lights, Dimwits.

“An exchange can be beneficial to more than one party!!!”, I scream as I wring your neck as part of our pareto optimal BDSM.

You think that everyone has their own rich individual life, but if you talk to them for 40 minutes you realize they all have the same one.

xxxxxWomen are only dating their boyfriends to make me jealous.

Is having a breakdown, a jazzy breakdown. Funky.

I'm a chocoholiphile, I can only cum inside a chocolate stout.

More like Washington, I.T. Those clowns. ICP.

If you look at this chart plotting the murder rate over time.. Wait, are you saying TIME is causing these murders?

When you get hit in the groin, it's a Dongy Konk.

Is a pall-caster.

Banter with my fates. With the gods.

The none and only.

Is the opposite of a drama-queen, I'm a comedy-commoner.

In recupery.

There's no higher virtue than suitablity. I want nothing more from the world than to suit me.

It takes a lot of disgusting secrets to appear this sexy.

Who would Jesus want me to kill? Probably him.

Anything that can be destroyed by freedom of choice should be. Isn't worth protecting.

Is sexier than Jesus.

xxxxxHard-won tautologies.

xxxxxGrey-supremecist.

xxxxxMy future-late-wife.

The Bane of my Gotham city.

The best case scenario for a marriage is you die together orgasming, surrounded by your children and loved ones.

Everyday was always going to be a struggle, whether your’s is harder or easier than most is neither comforting nor troubling.

The church of hard knocks.

Indigenous People, or ingens for short.

There's no shortage of ways to be boorish.

xxxxxI'm not just a dime-piece, I'm a conversation-piece.

I eat toilet paper for dessert so I don't have to wipe when I poop.

Pay it backward.

If all you try to hard to be grateful for your bowl of shit, you’ll never go to the fucking store for a bowl of ice cream.

Just play with someone else. Just hang out with someone else.

xxxxxScream while you bleed out.

xxxxxGod bless you and fuck off.

Jesus doesn't exist, it was just your parents dying for your sins while you slept the whole time.

My list for not dying.

xxxxxI don't even have subject permanence.

Is soothing/staving.

Honed anticipations/regrets.

Itty bitty libidity.

Good fences make good wives.

xxxxxI’m a criss-cross dresser, it's my same clothes but I wear them backwards.

Meaning reduces the world, writing away its chaos and uncontrollability. I don't need to understand everything, just my empty surroundings and call that understanding.

Knowing that words are empty can kill their fun, but it can also give us the freedom to redefine them in more fun ways.

Cynicist

People don't really want meaning, they want prizes.

It's like taking babies from a candy store.

Gum, candy, sharp objects.

The solipist and the empath.

Sex is like writing a good mystery novel, it's easier if you start with the ending first, and work back from there.

I’d like to settle down and start a family, I just haven't met the right baby yet.

People want to feel valuable.

All of human intellect is an elaborate device for convincing others to give you shit / do things for you.

Image is important because without it you’re invisible.

If you put yourself within spitting distance of enough people you’ll eventually be spit upon.

Structure unstructured problems. List, rank, iterate.

Backwards-looking punitive justice versus forwards-looking best available decision making.

Movable bedroom/living room apartments that plug into bathroom/kitchen units. Lower the switching costs of changing apartments.

Just the none.

Dribble-down sex-onomics.

Pussy nerd.

Banana bread: flour, baking soda, butter, sugar, eggs, bananas, cinnamon

I don't have sex, I make whoopee.

Limited Liability Cool J

xxxxxEver tried, ever failed. No matter, try again, fail again, fail ever.

Moral suspicions.

Ambivuous

Control your breath, control the world.

Medium Hap. Average Hap.

Nietzsche in the streets, Derrida in the sheets.

James Vandercreek.

The real magic was the gatherings we made along the way.

xxxxxOaken Promises.

The day you slid out of your mother's DM’s.

My hard-won defeatism.

It takes a lot of effort to look this tired.

xxxxxHeavy-pegging.

xxxxxI don't tell dad jokes, I tell DILF jokes.

Tis better to go bear-mauled than palled-bare.

I only listen to dubstep remixes of lenord Cohen songs.

Selfless hedonist.

Yadda, yadda, blah. Blah, blah, yadda.

I don't believe anything because why bother.

Your house is burning down and you only have time to put one thing in it, what do you pick?

I don't like hurting people, but neither do I like being kind to them.

Fuck you, mommy and daddy!

Frampton is God.

Is self-compelled

I do all my own stuntin.

It's an expensive country.

Give us this day our daily spray.

Let me get those knuckles, girl.

Richie Richiculous.

xxxxxThe DM is the message.

What we need to talk about when we need to talk about Kevin.

Done with porn, getting into peeping.

xxxxxNate, short for Natherine.

Grana. Clothes.

Collecting dirt.

Gun’s rights.

I'll put my nose to the rails.

Everything is masturbating.

Calculus: love it or liebnitz.

You can stop, but you can never slow down.

A spoonful of cinnamon helps the medicine go down.

xxxxxDon't even talk to me till I’ve had my siesta.

Obvious state.com

Are you good in bed? Eh, I mostly hold my own.

Kaiser request records: 510.752.6026

Make America grey again.

Take a long jump off a tall pier.

Brutulful. Beutulful. Brutulful.

A hunk of hard beef.

Snowflake hot-takes.

Let go my prego.

I talk to god, but the motherfucker never listens.

You can't make an omelette without breaking a few hearts.

Love and spite. Lust and spite.

A casket is just a smaller box.

I don't want to be happy I want to be wealthy.

Chops are made to be busted.

Cynical depression. Cynical-strength.

The value of nothing.

Nihilistical.

The war on shrugs.

Ethan Hawke-type seeks Julie Delpy-type for Before Sunrise-style whirlwind romance, drunken park-sex, ghosting for 9 years.

Let them eat shit.

Beodine soundclash

xxxxxExploring the reward-space.

xxxxxReward ho.

Hermetically Sealed.

I can drive inside the lines.

Cloud 11. It's two clouder, innit?

The problem with people is they think words are real.

Spacebar Cowboy.

A don't believe in words.

Flat Stan Lee #trivia

Adult onset birthmark.

Shorty Boom Boom.

xxxxxEven a rooster tells time once a day.

I like my woman like I like my cocoa, a Swiss Miss.

Some diggity. Diggity, diggity.

There is a high correlation between correlation and causation. #trivia

Do not suscitate.

xxxxxFavourite US president? Probably Jefferson...Davis.

Other people's qualia.

Denzel Dryington. Denzel Washinfold.

I am what I aim.