#really sorry for this my brain is being absolutely scrambled by some shitty personal stuff so i'm allowed. i'm allowed

[deermouth]

There's a post with a bloody and deranged looking Laios on it that says "I know things are going downhill for me when i start thinking this is the hottest Laios looked in the manga," and yeah understandable, but may I submit: this one.

[kenmaash]

valentine- a kiribaku fluffshot

hey hoes happy valentine’s day :D

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Bakugou

I held a rectangular box of chocolate in my nervous hands and took a breath. I stood in front of the door to my last class of the day.

C’mon, do it. He’s right there. You can do it, idiot. Get some balls!

Nope. 

I spun around without opening the door and walked right back to my locker. Before I could open it and put the chocolates away, a hand landed on my shoulder and turned me around. I whipped my head towards the source of the hand and glared right into a pair of black and golden eyes. Ashido Mina, the only person other than myself who knew about my plan to give chocolates to someone this Valentine's Day.

“Katsuki! I saw you walk away, you fucking chicken,” she taunted. Her hands rested on her hips and she stuck her tongue out at me mockingly.

“Shut up, Alien Bitch. Have you ever done something like this?” I growled.

“No, but think about it.” Mina raised one eyebrow defiantly. “It’s really not that hard. You just walk up to him and hand it to him. Or put it on his desk. Then you can walk away or stay and see his expression.”

“No. That’s my final answer.” I opened my locker and stuck the chocolates inside. “He probably wouldn’t want them anyway.”

“Katsuki.” Mina’s voice was gentle. “You know he loves you. Eij-”

“Don’t say his name!” I quickly slapped my hand over Mina’s mouth and looked around. “You know I don’t want anyone else to know I have a fucking… crush... on him.”

“There’s no one around. You’re just being paranoid at this point.” Mina’s hands went back to her hips and her eyebrow lifted again. “You know, I could always give them to him and tell him they’re from you.”

“It wouldn’t be the same.” I started to close my locker, but Mina put her foot in the way of the door.

“Put them in his locker, then.”

“What?” 

“Put them in his locker. You know the code to the lock, right? Just put them in there and let him find them.” Mina tapped on Eijirou’s locker, just a few down from mine.

I hesitated for a moment, trying to think it through. It did seem like the best course of action…. No confrontation or explanation, it was hidden from other classmates, and he could reject me by just not mentioning the chocolates.

“Alright. Move.” I shoved Ashido aside and opened Eijirou’s locker. I stuck the chocolates on top of his gym bag, knowing he would grab that first when he left for the day.

“And you’ll see what he thinks about it when we hang out tonight,” Mina added.

“Oh shit, I forgot about that.” I groaned inwardly. Our friend group had decided to go to Eijirou’s dorm for Valentine’s day since we were all single. That meant I had to face him with the whole group about the chocolates…. “Maybe this whole chocolates thing is a bad idea after all.”

“Nope. It’s time for class, so we’d better go. No backing out now.” Mina slammed Eijirou’s locker shut and shoved me towards the classroom with her palms on my back. I sighed and let her push me, stumbling when she practically threw me through the doorway to class 1-A.

“Watch it, bitch.” I glared over my shoulder and gathered sparks in my hand.

“You watch it, Blasty,” she retorted with a roll of her eyes. I scoffed and turned away, stepping around groups of people chatting to get to my seat. Right in front of Eijirou. I sat with my feet up on my desk and leaned my head backwards over my chair, staring at the ceiling with stars in my head. A spiky mess of red hair popped into my field of vision, followed closely by a tanned face and a blinding grin.

“Hey, Bakubro!” Kirishima Eijirou’s eyes closed when his grin grew especially wide as he said my name.

I sat up and sat backwards in my chair to face him. “Hey, Shitty Hair.”

“Did you get anything for Valentine’s day so far?” Eijirou asked excitedly. When I nodded, he pulled out a few packages of chocolates from under his desk. “Me too! Some girls and guys from class C gave me these. I didn’t want to hurt their feelings, so I just kinda took them. I hate milk chocolate… do you want them?”

I did a mental fist pump over the fact that the chocolates I had gotten him were dark chocolate. “Nah, I hate milk chocolate too.” I shrugged. “Mina will probably want them.”

“I’ve been summoned?” Mina stepped into the conversation with a mischievous smirk playing across her lips -no doubt because she had heard the chocolate offer.

“You want Shitty Hair’s shitty chocolate?” I asked, resting my chin on the back of my chair.

“Don’t mind if I do! I’m glad we have a few pretty boys in the Bakusquad, otherwise we’d surely starve,” Mina mumbled around her mouthful of chocolate hearts.

Denki and Hanta, who had been trailing behind Mina for a moment now, laughed at this. While it was true that the four of us guys got plenty of confessions and food from people, Mina got more than any of us. It seemed that every day, a new girl was daydreaming or another guy was learning to cook for her. To absolutely everyone’s surprise but our little friend group, Mina had no interest in accepting any of the confessions, so she did her own thing. She allowed people to like her, but multiple confessions or pleads to date them were off the table.

“How much have you gotten today, Mina?” Hanta asked, hoisting a bouquet he had been given and tossing it to Eijirou to examine.

“Mmm, not much straight to my face, but my locker pile is starting to build up.” Mina shook her head.

We all laughed, but were cut off by Aizawa clearing his throat.

“Class, don’t make me expel you all on Valentine’s day,” he said, his voice droll as he stared directly into the eyes of the entire class. Everyone scrambled silently back to their seats and waited while Aizawa stepped out of his sleeping bag and started the lesson.

During the entire period, while Aizawa went on and on about hero history and whatnot, my mind was elsewhere. Stuck on red hair and red eyes, an eye scar and thick lashes. On a shark-toothed grin and an arm on my shoulder. Walking across campus with a hand so close to mine, it would be so easy to just reach out and hold it, but I never did. Strong arms and a powerful quirk paired with passionate ambition. Smile lines creasing on the brow of a beautiful face.

“Katsuki!” A voice shook me from my daydreams. Hanta was waving his hand in front of my face, trying to get my attention. “Time to go.”

“Oh, yeah. I was falling asleep, that lesson was so damn boring,” I scoffed with a roll of my eyes. I stood from my chair, trying to wipe the remaining thoughts of Eijirou from my head. Mina grabbed me by the arm and dragged me out of the classroom; bolting past Denki, Hanta, and Eijirou while I protested.

When we got to my locker, I yanked my arm away and glared at her. “The fuck was that for?”

“I wanted to talk to you about the chocolates. I think you need to tell Ei straight up becau-”

I cut her off. “No. We’ve been over this, and it was your idea to put them in his locker anyways. This is the one thing I’m not confronting him on.”

“Well he might bring it up tonight and then the whole group will know.” Mina crossed her arms defiantly.

I waved my hand in dismissal. “He won’t. He’s too moral or whatever to out me to everyone.”

Mina hesitated. “Well… if you’re sure….”

“I am.” I shoved past her and started walking away. “Don’t fucking bring it up again, what’s done is done. And it’s too late to do something else with it anyway.”

I heard Mina’s soft sigh behind me as I walked back to the rest of our friends.

“There you are!” Eijirou waved at me and Mina as we rounded the corner to the hallway where they stood. “Let’s go! Hanta went to pick up our bread order- I got you curry buns, is that alright?”

“Whatever.” I shrugged.

“What about me?” Mina lunged forward and hugged Eijirou’s shoulder.

“Apple cinnamon rolls.” Eijirou ruffled her hair, making her grin.

“Yay!” Mina hugged Eijirou tighter.

“Can we go please?” I exchanged an exasperated glance with Denki.

“Yeah, sorry!” Eijirou reached up and scratched the back of his neck. “Oh crap, I need my gym bag. Go ahead, I’ll meet you there.”

Kirishima turned and went back to his locker. Denki, Mina and I started our way to his dorm. The campus was mostly empty, since people were going out with their partners or friends to celebrate or mourn this fucking horrible day of love. While we walked, Kaminari rambled about homework and minecraft and other things that just happened to pour from his mind. We stopped at Kirishima’s dorm and I ducked into my room next door to get our party food and drinks from my minifridge.

When I came out of my room, Hanta and Eijirou were standing with Mina and Denki. Eijirou’s gym bag was slung over his shoulder, but the box of chocolates was nowhere to be seen. Mina glanced at me, gaze flickering from Eijirou to me and back again. I shook my head sharply and she stopped.

“Lets go, singles!” Mina raised her fist in excitement and clapped her hands when Eijirou unlocked his door and let us in.

“I’m putting the party stuff on your desk, Shitty Hair,” I said. I brought the three bags of chips, pocky, soda, and cup ramen on Eijirou’s much-too-large desk. Denki plopped onto the floor beside Eijirou’s speakers and put on some music. I felt glad that we were probably the only students left in the school when the Disney Hercules soundtrack started blasting through the room, most definitely carrying out into the hall.

“Oi, Ei.” Mina elbowed Eijirou in the side. “What’s that?”

I looked over to see her pointing at something red sticking out of Eijirou’s gym bag. Oh, fuck. He had taken the chocolates. My brain battled between relief and fear as Denki and Hanta gathered around to look.

“Oh, a few people left chocolates in front of my locker.” Eijirou waved them off.

“Who’re they from?” Hanta wiggled his eyebrows.

Mina’s head snapped up and her eyes met mine, anticipation drifting between us.

“There’s no name on it,” Eijirou said. “They’re my favorites, though! So they either did their research or just got really lucky.”

“Hmm, interesting. A mystery.” Mina stroked her chin. “Anyways, wanna watch a movie? Or play paranoia?”

“Movie!” Denki  and Hanta cheered in unison.

“Totoro!” Eijirou added, causing everyone to clap appreciatively.

“Totoro it is. Thotsuki, can you hand me the strawberry pocky?” Mina blinked at me with innocent eyes.

“Get it yourself, Asshido,” I growled, snatching up a box of chocolate pocky for myself.

“Awwwh, rude.” Mina pouted. She stood up and went to get her own pocky, leaving Denki to put on the movie. “Denki, put Big Hero Six and Howl’s Moving Castle in queue.”

Everyone gathered their snacks and sat together on the floor to watch the movies. Mina and Denki were sprawled on their stomachs next to each other, sharing a bowl of popcorn that Denki had popped with his quirk. Hanta sat with his legs crossed beside them, eyes stuck to the TV but still taking with the rest of us. Eijirou and I sat beside Mina, leaning against the side of Eijirou’s bed with a bag of chocolate covered pretzels between us.

The movies played peacefully, partially serving as background noise to our seemingly never ending conversation. About halfway through Big Hero Six, we stopped talking and the movie captured everyone’s attention. Mina was the first to fall asleep, shortly followed by Hanta, who slid slowly sideways and eventually slumped over onto the carpet with a quiet snore. Denki’s eyes grew heavier and heavier each second until he, too, fell asleep in a heap on the floor. I clinked my iced coffee with Kirishima’s and we grinned at each other; victoriously the final two awake.

Eijirou opened his mouth for a second before closing it again and saying nothing.

“What?” I nudged him softly.

“Well, I was going to ask if you got a mystery Valentine too, but, well, it wouldn’t really be a too. Since I didn’t get one either.” Eijirou’s voice sounded slightly nervous as he spoke.

“What do you mean? That box didn’t have a name. So it’s a mystery,” I said dryly.

“Ah, no. It… it had a name.” Eijirou’s eyes went straight down into the ice of his coffee, refusing to look at me.

“It did?” My heart lurched in my chest. I knew I’d signed it… but why had Eijirou lied before? Was he embarrassed by it and didn’t want our friends to know? Or maybe it was his way of rejecting me? “Um, who was it?”

Eijirou said nothing. He just nodded and scratched the back of his neck. “Yeah. I’d love to be your Valentine.”

His words caught me by surprise and I did a double take. “Really?”

He finally looked up at me. “Does it go both ways or do I have to ask you to be mine?” His voice was soft.

“I’m already yours….” I whispered.

Eijirou’s eyes flickered across my face. The room seemed to grow warmer. Which was why my face was burning…. Yes, that was the only reason. Not because Eijirou’s hand rested in my palm, or because his eyes were locked into mine like they were reading my soul. No, it was just the temperature. My heart raced and my mouth opened slightly.

“You’re beautiful.” Eijirou’s gaze broke from mine as he shifted so that he could rest his head on my shoulder. “I just wanted you to know that.”

I stiffened for a moment, but when the warmth of Eijirou’s body seeped into mine, I seemed to melt. I felt my right arm go around his shoulder and my left hand reach for his.

“Thank you for saying yes,” I whispered, leaning my head on top of his. “Will you… still be my valentine tomorrow?”

“For as long as you’ll have me, Katsuki.” Eijirou replied, his head sinking deeper into the crook of my neck. He squeezed my hand with the last word.

I turned my head towards Eijirou, pressing my lips gently to his forehead. He smiled and returned the gesture, bringing up our clasped hands to his mouth and kissing the back of my hand. He then laid his head back down on my shoulder and I felt our bodies melt together.

Forever. I want to be like this with you… forever.

I have never been more at peace.

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i hope you all liked that :) i haven’t written kiribaku in so long, so that was super refreshing for me

word count: 2534

-ash

[theres-a-goldensky]

32 Reddie Fic Recs

In honor of the joy I feel in finally getting out of this miserably terrible fucking year of my life, I thought I’d do something fun and make up a list of Reddie fic recs, since this has fandom has taken over my life recently. Strap in, friends. This is gonna be a long one.

These recs are in the order in which I read them. 

As ever, feel free to reblog and check out my other rec lists for the following fandoms:

IT chapter 2 list part two - Reddie

Good Omens fic

The Untamed list one and two - various pairings, mostly Wangxian

Various BL Series fic (fandoms: Love By Chance, TharnType, 2Moons series, My Engineer, Until We Meet Again, 2gether, History3: Trapped)

Or just head over to my bookmarks on AO3.

All fics are Reddie, all are complete.

** - denotes personal favorite

1. first love / late spring by vowelinthug - ~36,000 words, explicit - They both survive It, but not without some injuries, both physical and psychological. Richie takes Eddie to a secluded cabin to help him recover. And then they accidentally make a podcast. Nice slowburn, a good Richie characterization. I liked the conversations between the two of them, in particular one about Richie’s disdain for shoes that was pitch perfect.

The doctor’s evil eye is on both of them now. “Your friend is gonna be fine. Broken collarbone and a lot of blood loss, but the arm stays on, for now anyway.” Probably at the way Richie sags in relief so hard he groans in pain, the doctor stops looking so severe. “He’s a tough guy. I’ve never seen anyone regain consciousness from that much blood loss just to give me a full medical history.”

“Oh my god,” says Richie, covering his mouth. “I like him so much.”

Bill pats his shoulder in sympathy.

2. the fireworks that go off when you smile by zach_stone - ~10,000 words, teen - Post-movie the adult Losers, including Stan, go on a vacation together. There’s just lots of Richie staring at a wet, shirtless Eddie and pining.

Richie blinks at him, his stomach doing a fucking somersault, pinned under Eddie’s weirdly passionate stare. He swallows another mouthful of beer to stall for time, shifting his gaze away. Spread out before him, the lake looks like flat, black glass. “Jeez, is the risk analyst really telling me to ignore the risks? What’s the world coming to?” he manages to joke.

He expects Eddie to roll his eyes, to huff and lean away again, but he doesn’t. He says, still earnest, “I just think some things are worth the risk.”

And Richie doesn’t know  what  the fuck to do with that. He resolutely tells himself not to puke on Ben and Beverly’s porch, because he thinks if he did it would just be the words  I love Eddie Kaspbrak a hundred times over, all puddled on the slats of wood. He stands up rather abruptly. “I should go to bed,” he says, aware that he’s talking too loud, being too fucking obvious. “I’m jetlagged as fuck. Also maybe a little drunk.”

3. oh, i want the truth to be known by ShowMeAHero - ~7000 words, explicit - Richie sees Eddie die in the deadlights and then manages to save him at the last second, but It skewers him instead. I’m honestly not sure why there isn’t more fic with this premise, because Richie sacrificing his own safety for Eddie and then Eddie losing his shit is absolutely, 100% my jam.

The claw isn’t in Eddie’s chest. Instead, it’s in Richie’s, caught in his side, pinning him to the ground. He chokes on a scream, caught in his throat, and pushes at Eddie, just trying to get them away. He rolls into him, ripping Pennywise’s claw through his side to get away, but once he’s free, he’s scrambling into a half-stumble and dragging Eddie with him until they’re hidden under an outcropping of rock. His side is bleeding, he can feel it, and his entire fucking abdomen hurts, and, for a moment, it’s all he can process.

“Holy shit, Richie,” Eddie exclaims. The pain shuffles to the back of Richie’s mind so he can focus on Eddie instead. He sounds winded, but he’s fucking alive, unhurt and breathing and okay, and Richie huffs a laugh. He’s in so much fucking pain, but he can’t even figure out where it’s all originating from, and the only thought cycling through his brain is it’s okay, he’s okay, Eddie’s okay, it wasn’t real, it wasn’t real, it wasn’t real, over and over.

4. we'll be a fine line (we'll be alright)  by buckyjerkbarnes - ~9,000 words, teen - Richie and the other Losers in the hospital after killing It, waiting for news on Eddie. Richie has a bit of a breakdown.

The ambulance ride had been the longest twenty minutes of Richie’s life. He'd tried not to get in the way of the EMTs who worked frantically to keep Eddie alive; who were far more patient with him than Richie likely deserved. By the time they'd rolled up to the emergency entrance at the hospital, Ben stamping his breaks as the rest of the Losers came to a grinding halt not fifteen yards away, Richie was still a sobbing mess. He couldn't see through the cracked lens of his glasses, and when Eddie, who had not opened his eyes or said a word since they were still in the sewers, was about to be wheeled out of sight, Richie made like a battering ram and lunged towards the pair of swinging doors.

“Sir!" An orderly yelped. "You can’t—!"

And Stan, who had materialized at Richie's elbow, told the orderly: "He's the husband."

5. ** It’s Hard to Tell Sometimes by gallopingmelancholia - ~21,000 words, explicit - Eddie divorces his wife and moves to LA to live with Richie. Richie promptly has like five emotional meltdowns over it. So much pining. So much. This is one of very few that has Eddie in the hospital for a realistic amount of time, which I appreciate. When writers have been hoping out of bed after a day or whatever, it really throws me out of the story.

“When can we see him?” Mike asks.

“He’s asleep, but we’ll send in a nurse when he wakes up. I wouldn’t expect it until tomorrow morning at the earliest. He’s been through quite a lot, eleven hours of surgery, and is on a lot of pain medication.”

“Will he survive? What’s the percentage? He’ll want to know the probability, he’s a risk analyst,” Richie says.

The doctor hesitates. “The chances he makes it through the night are 65%.”

“That’s not bad!” Richie says even as his heart drops to somewhere in the region of his feet. The others look at him pitifully. “Tell him we’re here and we love him. Tell him the Losers are here and we’ll see him soon.”

6. ** it’s a nice day to start again by eddiespaghetti (foxwatson) - ~6000 words, teen - Post-movie, Eddie wakes up one morning to discover that Richie and a woman had a shotgun wedding in Vegas the night before. Great, sad-but-trying-not-to-show-it Eddie here. (And yes, Richie is a total disaster gay who marries a woman on a whim.)

 “Are you sitting down?”

 “I didn’t even get out of bed yet! Bev please just tell me what the fuck is happening.”

 “Sorry, I’m sorry. Just- Richie got married.”

 “What? No he didn’t,” Eddie scoffs, throwing the covers off. “I’m not - he’s not even dating anybody, I see him all the time. It’s probably just a big joke or something, that’s-”

 “He got married, in Vegas. It’s all over Twitter, and he- he sent pictures to the group chat last night. She’s some other comedian. None of us have ever met her, he didn’t invite any of us.”

7. Oh, But He Makes You Laugh by MellytheHun - ~9,000 words, mature - Teenage Eddie has to deal with some serious jealousy when a new friend enters their group. This one has a good, slow realization on Eddie’s part.

The boy is in their grade, though not part of their social sphere; he’s nearly as tall as Richie, with light eyes, and walnut colored hair. Eddie recognizes him from his AP bio class, but can’t inwardly recall his name.

The boy nods toward Stanley while keeping eye-contact with Richie, and informs him, “alligators - they can grow up to twenty feet.”

Richie opens his mouth to argue with the new kid, but he’s cut off.

“Which is weird, cause they usually only grow four.”

Eddie watches in abject bewilderment as a hearty, genuine laugh  is startled out of Richie.

8. Richie Tozier: Pray Away the Gay by QueerOnTilMorning - ~4,500 words, teen - The official transcript of Richie Tozier’s comeback Netflix special. A lot of writers try to do Richie’s stand-up routine, but not many can nail it. This one feels realistic and contains actual, like, jokes and stuff.

Because I grew up in this little town called Derry, Maine--nope, absolutely not, do not cheer for that. Fuck Derry! I had this friend, for years he thought I was lactose intolerant, because he'd mention dairy and I'd be like "fuck Derry! Derry tried to fucking kill me!" No, I can eat cheese, I just hate my hometown. They did not fuck with the gays, in Derry. That's probably why I dress so shitty. It's a survival thing. I was already super into dudes. If I had developed fashion sense on top of that? No. Oh my God. It was so--I was so fucking scared all the time.

 And like, to put this in perspective, has anyone ever heard of Henry Bowers? Any true crime fans in the house? Henry Bowers, the baby serial killer? Yeah, you listened to that podcast! My friend Bill was on that podcast, doesn't he have a sexy voice? Anyway, Henry Bowers, also known very creatively as The Derry Killer, murdered a bunch of kids the summer we were thirteen. I say we, because that dude was in my fucking class. There was an active serial killer in Derry during my childhood and still, still my greatest fear was that someone would find out I was gay.

9. RICHIE TOZIER IS...THE COMEBACK CLOWN by owlinaminor & tinypersonhotel - ~11,500, teen - An excellent multimedia fic about Richie’s life with Eddie post-movie.

While Richie Tozier never stops talking, Eddie Kaspbrak never stops moving. Listening to a conversation between the two men is akin to watching a pinball machine with two balls going at once, slamming into each other and the walls and the levers and each other, lighting up their surroundings in a trance as mesmerizing as it is chaotic. (Kaspbrack laughed when I told him this metaphor—apparently Tozier spent many an afternoon at the town arcade when they were kids.)

Over the course of one twenty-minute walk with their dog, a beagle named Stanley, through their L.A. neighborhood, they manage to call off their engagement, call it back on, invite me, uninvite me, call the engagement off again, debate eloping, call the whole thing back on but disinvite everyone except me, and finally agree on what color napkins to have at the reception.

10. ** The Jenga Dream Date by stitchy - ~15,000 words, explicit - Richie and Eddie domestic fluff that starts at Ben and Bev’s wedding. It feels so sweet, and you can just see the happiness radiating off the screen. This is truly the ending they deserve.

Then a seriously, unbearably cute thought occurs to Richie. A thought he can’t immediately share with Eddie, because Bill and Mike each independently cornered him and made him swear not to steal Bev and Ben’s thunder.

Ah, fuck it.

“I can’t think why we would possibly be in another situation in the near future where there’s dancing but also my mother is there for some reason, but holy shit, Eds! I have got to see you dance with Mom. During this very special situation. For which I will make hand calligraphed invitations and hire a photographer and-”

Eddie’s eyes dart in either direction before he lets out a short, slightly hysterical laugh. “Uhhh, I  also have no idea when or why that would happen, or what sort of event that would be appropriate for.”

11. Bad Parts In by 50artists - ~9,000 words, not rated - It’s Richie that ends up in the hospital after it all goes down, and Eddie who has the crisis. And also some serious misapprehensions.

"I feel like Richie might be  slightly  weirded out," Eddie says dryly. "Like oh, hey, we've not spoken for decades and you're the straightest man I know, but it turns out I have been subconsciously in love with you since we were teenagers. I dunno, might make things a bit awkward."

"I'm sorry," says Beverly, "just to clarify, Richie Tozier is the straightest man you know?"

"Dude, have you seen his comedy? It's all, 'I love fucking chicks while drinking beer and watching football'."

"You mean the material that Richie doesn't write himself?'

12. ** We Found Love in a Chili’s ToGo by Amuly - ~14,000, explicit - Richie confesses his feelings to Eddie in the airport before they both headed back to their own lives. This is such a lovely story about friendship and love and putting yourself back together. And there’s some A+++ phone sex.

“Nah, Eds. It’s because I had a big gay crush and needed Stan to bitch at about it.”

Eddie frowned, then shook his head. “That doesn’t explain why you couldn’t bitch at me about it.”

“Well bitching about your secret crush to your secret crush is generally frowned upon, Eds. Kinda fucks up the ‘secret’ part.”

Eddie, bless his tiny heart, didn’t get it for a second. His expression scrunched up, about to say something stupid back to Richie, when his brain processed Richie’s words. In a second his expression fell open, jaw actually agape.

“Oh look: drinks!” Richie grabbed his marg, licking and drinking without even letting the waitress set it down onto the tabletop. Eddie barely had the courtesy left to let her set his down before he was grabbing at it.

13. ** Ask Me About My New Material by twoseas - ~7,000 words, explicit - I could read 10,000 stories about a confused and horny Eddie jerking it to Richie’s stand up without understanding why before they meet again in Derry. This one has a great Richie, who reacts like he got hit in the face with a bat when the truth comes out.

In the restaurant, as the gong resounded around them, Eddie looked up at a four-eyed, messy, middle aged Trashmouth and suddenly it all clicked.

 He had two thoughts.

Oh, he realized, it’s because I’m in love with the dumbass.

And, Aw fuck.

14. No Parenthesis by pineapplecrushface - 13,000 words, explicit - In the deadlights, Stan gives Richie some instructions on how to bring him back. Spoilers: it involves an orgy. And Richie and Eddie dealing with their feelings.

“Okay,” Mike said, holding his hands out to placate him, and honestly Richie was really fucking sick of Mike saying crazy shit and then somehow—somehow!—convincing them to do it anyway. “I’m not saying we have to do it. I’m just saying, the ritual exists and we could do it, and now that it’s out there, I feel like you should all have the choice.”

“Great. I choose no. I’m fucking leaving before I get ritualed into giving all my money to a cult leader and I end up spending the rest of my sad short life on an alpaca farm,” Richie said, standing up too fast and stalking across the room.

“Richie,” Bev said, and she sounded, unbelievably, like she was not thinking this was completely insane.

“Are you fucking serious?” He whirled around to look at them. They were all giving him varying levels of Richie, be reasonable, which was a look he was familiar with, but not when it came to sex rituals, for some fucking reason.

15. ** Stupid Deep series by anonymous - ~50,000 words, explicit - Richie has a huge dick, and Eddie is obsessed with it. Come for the super, super hot sex, stay for the sweet romance, twist of angst and happy ending.

It’s been five months since then, and Eddie has spent at least 40% of that time thinking about Richie’s big fucking dick. He spends about 20% working from home, 20% arguing with Richie about dumb shit, and the remaining 30% sleeping—this adds up to 110%, but that’s because there’s overlap between the sleeping and the thinking about Richie’s huge dick in the form of extremely graphic dreams.

He thinks about Richie’s dick in the shower. He thinks about Richie’s dick when they’re watching TV together. He thinks about Richie’s dick when he’s trying to eat breakfast. He hasn’t even seen it hard. But god, he thinks about it. Thinks about it hot and thick in his hand, thinks about it twitching as Eddie strokes it, thinks about it stretching his lips, thinks about it leaking precum all over Eddie’s fingers and tongue and stomach. And, most importantly—most vividly—he thinks about Richie’s dick inside of him, filling him up, fucking him.

At the same time, Eddie also spent a good amount of time, woven through the rest of his daily activities, falling so deeply in love with his best-friend-cum-roommate that it was disturbing at best. There was pining. There were lingering glances. There was lying on Richie’s bed while he was out just to ease the ache in his chest with Richie’s warm, familiar scent, which is disgusting and Eddie hates to think about it. There were, in Eddie’s darkest moments, daydreams about Richie holding his hand and kissing him and telling Eddie he’s in love with him. Like a fucking sap.

16. I’m quite alright hiding today by remusjohn - ~7,000 words, explicit - Eddie kisses Richie out of the deadlights, but Richie doesn’t know if that means anything.

On the first night they don’t do much of anything. They unpack (well, Eddie unpacks his massive bags while Richie tries to figure out how to sign in to his Netflix account on the tiny TV in the living room), and they order in, and they argue over what to watch while they’re eating, and Eddie falls asleep some hours later with his head tucked into Richie’s shoulder, and Richie tries not to think too much of it.

There’s been a lot of that, the last couple of days. Richie doesn’t know how to say, You kissed me to wake me up from the deadlights and I don’t know if you did it to save my life or if there’s something else too, but it’s kind of killing me, man.

So Richie doesn’t say anything at all.

17. Haunt Me, Thrill Me, Kiss Me by Vulcanodon - ~20,000 words, explicit - AU where Eddie and Richie are ghost hunters who get stuck in a very trippy haunted house. This concept really shouldn’t work, and I’m not big on AUs in the fandom, but the relationship between the two of them really sells it. And, obviously, the pining. There’s so much.

The only time Eddie has ever witnessed Richie freaking out was when they had been fucking about in the woods near Montana for their werewolf episode. Eddie had been walking backwards, trying to get Richie and a creepy footprint in frame when he had suddenly felt nothing but air behind him. He had fallen for an impressively long time down the hill, blacking out briefly when a branch caught his head and when he came to Richie had been leaning over him, white and frantic, hands all fisted up in Eddie’s shirt.

Eddie, Eddie, Eds, Richie had said, nearly crying. Are you alright, can you talk?

Is my camera broken? Eddie had managed woozily to say, and for a moment Eddie had thought Richie might do something crazy like slap him or even kiss him.

He hadn’t done either in the end and Eddie remembers the disappointment, even with the haze of a mild concussion.

18. Five Times The Losers Gave Richie Permission by toomuchrootbeer -  ~11,000 words, mature - Each loser tries to let Richie know that they know in their own special way.  

“No I don’t mind,” Stan says evenly, shrugging his shoulders like it’s the simplest thing in the world. “I don’t mind any of it.”

“Cool,” Richie chirps, grabbing his backpack off of the grass and pushing himself to his feet. “Pip pip Edward,” he calls. “Shall we endeavor to find you a cleaner wardrobe?”

“Fuck you,” Eddie says back, but there is no venom behind his words.

But then Stan is reaching out, gripping Richie’s arm, “Dude what are you-”

“I don’t mind any of it, Tozier,” he repeats, voice lower and his words somehow more weighty, fixing Richie with an indecipherable look. “And I don’t think any of the other Losers would mind it either. If you wanted to,” he jerks his head in the direction of Eddie, “you know.”

19. String Theory by neverfaraway - ~17,000 words, mature - Richie starts slowly regaining his memories and has a disturbing experience in the deadlights.

The thing is, Richie knows this is a version of himself and Eddie that never existed. He can taste the pretence on the tip of his tongue, but the sticky air seems to sharpen and solidify around him. He can’t remember where he was before this moment, watching his fingers alight on the buckle of Eddie’s hundred-dollar belt.

The Voice wavers and Richie comes pouring through the cracks. It's painful to watch the careful way he places his hands on Eddie’s skin. "Fuck, I missed you," he says. "Even when I couldn't remember, I had a hole right through me, straight through the middle. You left a fucking entry and exit wound."

"Damnit, Richie," Eddie mutters, blinking rapidly. "Beep, beep."

20. hoping to be found by eddiespaghetti (foxwatson) - ~25,000 words, mature - Things don’t magically work out after Derry for Eddie. He doesn’t know what else to do, so he goes back to Myra and his depressig life. But at least now he has his friends. He has Richie.

With his memories back now, with all the knowledge of his mother and his placebos and his fake inhaler and his friends, it feels like Eddie has been living the last 27 years in sickly, yellow sepia tones. His memories and even the brief time he spent with everyone at the Chinese restaurant shine in his mind in vivid technicolor, and everything else pales in comparison.

He thought he would die, and now he doesn’t have a plan. His life in New York is miserable and cramped and leaves him feeling small, so he puts it off as long as he can.

The drive isn’t long, even with Eddie taking his time. He takes a detour just to drive along the coast and see the ocean, and stops at any given exit or National Forest along the way that strikes his fancy. He’s still home before nightfall.

21. After Derry series by pineapplecrushface - ~47,000 words, explicit - Richie and Eddie are both pining and miserable disasters post-movie. Until they finally get their shit together and figure some things out.

He woke when Eddie sat on the edge of the bed and touched his back, under his disgusting shirt. “Hey,” he said. “Your turn. I mean, your turn after I wash my hand again. What did you lie down in?”

“Your mom,” he said, sitting up and glaring at Eddie, who was half-naked, a towel wrapped around his waist. “How do you all look so good and I ended up looking like fucking Christopher Lloyd? Like, not young Christopher Lloyd. Present day.”

Eddie’s hand was still tucked under his shirt, rubbing a path across his lower back. “I guess you did grow into your looks.”

“Oh, fuck you, you weirdly muscular little shitweasel,” Richie said, escaping to the shower so he didn’t have to look at the slope of Eddie’s arms. He was weak for that, the line of a man’s shoulders and back. He was weak for all of Eddie, really. After everything he had seen, he guessed it was something he could admit to himself. There was no panic left in it.

22. for better, for worse by kaspbrak_kid - ~26,000 words, not rated - Eddie has just gotten through a messy divorce and is trying to deal with the fact that he’s been in love with Richie for 30 years, and then he has to go to Ben and Bev’s wedding. Not a great combination of things.

Eddie blows out a shaky breath and puts down his phone, then picks it back up again, restless. He scrolls up through his and Richie’s texts.

They’re not that frequent. They talk in the group chat, mostly. Eddie thinks about texting him all the time, several times a day, and then never does. It’s all just stupid shit, anyway. A dream he had or a movie he saw on TV that he remembers Richie used to like, and does he still like it? Some things his therapist tells him he should say, like that he’s been in love with Richie for somewhere between six months and thirty-odd years.

Instead, most of their private texts are just inane bickering, or Richie trying out jokes on him, or Eddie telling Richie how to clean the cut he just accidentally gave himself opening a can. He could have just googled it. But he asked Eddie.

23. feet on the ground, head in the sky by peggyolson - ~21,000 words, teen - I’m kind of a sucker for the slowburn, falling in love over distance trope. This one does it well, with bonus Richie dealing with his issues and figuring shit out.

Mostly, though, it’s just a slight tug at the back of his mind, another part of his day. A mumbled  let me call Eddie, like an afterthought, while he’s tapping his foot in line at Whole Foods.

Eddie always, always answers.

“Edward Kaspbrak,” he chirps during business hours, dry and glib, and Richie will respond in a deep, exaggerated baritone with something awful like  Mr. Kaspbrak, your test results are in and unfortunately you  will  keep shrinking at an alarming rate for the rest of your life, something barely funny that he says just to get a reaction.

(It had been  such  a mistake to give Richie his work number.)

24. it’s about time that you just unwind by fuckener - ~9,500 words, explicit - Eddie finds out that Richie is gay via his stand-up and promptly loses his mind.

“Yeah? Mine was weird, guys, I’m not going to lie. I came up with this really good idea on how to cause total chaos at a family event, you wanna hear it?” There it was - glasses adjustment, not even past the one minute mark. “If you really want to shake up another dull as fuck Thanksgiving with your parents, just wait ‘til you’re in your forties and your elderly father is spooning out his first helping of mashed potatoes for the night and then drop the bomb that you’ve been gay the whole time. Boom, happy Thanksgiving. Pass the sweet corn, I want to fuck the huge green dude on the can.” People laughed. Richie did that thing with his face between a smile and a scowl. “It’s the long game, yeah, but -”

Eddie slammed his laptop shut.

25. feel this burning, love of mine by floatingonthelehigh - 17,000 words, mature - The clown is a bastard. Richie gets a second chance.

“Don’t leave,” Eddie says quietly, and god  fucking  damn it, it breaks him that Eddie thinks he ever would.

“No,  fuck no, Eddie. I’m not going to.” He adjusts his grip on the jacket against Eddie’s stomach, winces when Eddie gasps in pain. Richie’s lip shakes again as he just keeps talking. “Frankly I’m insulted that you’d think I’d leave you, after just remembering you're my best fucking friend in the world, after twenty seven fucking years. My clown-murdering partner in crime! How could I ever leave you? Fuck no, I’m not leaving you, Eds. Idiot,” He laughs emptily, rubbing Eddie’s cheek, and pauses, beginning to nod to himself as a goal flits into his mind. “I’m going to pick you up, I’m going to get you out of here, to a hospital. Right now. And—” Eddie’s grip on his arm tightens, and he stops.

26. hey there demons (it's me, ya boi) by dharmainitiative - 12,000 words, teen - Is this another ghosthunters AU? Why, yes it is. I don’t know why there are two of these, but I enjoyed them both. This one is much lighter, and I really liked the way that the writer creates a very lived-in feeling as soon as you jump into this universe.

 As it was, BuzzFeed wasn’t a bad place to work, despite all the shit Richie gave it. He was paid well, there were always a bunch of cushy chairs everywhere, and the food that got brought in for lunch everyday was way better than the shitty grilled cheeses he ate at home for dinner. And despite what Richie expected, his coworkers were actually pretty cool, all things considered. Sure, they were all millenials who thought landing an internship at BuzzFeed was the height of success, but most of them were friendly, and occasionally funny, and like Richie, just excited to get paid to do something that required little to no effort.

 Most of them, at least. There was also Eddie Kaspbrak.

 Richie met Eddie his first day at BuzzFeed, when he was shown his desk and the incessantly chatty intern that sat at the desk right next to him. Working side by side — literally — let Richie learn a lot of things about Eddie Kaspbrak: he was a neurotic hypochondriac, exclusively owned Polo shirts, and talked faster than Richie could even blink.

27. New Page, Same Old Book by Rend_Herring - 17,000 words, explicit - Post-movie, Eddie divorces his wife, moves across the country and makes himself comfortable in Richie’s home. Richie is totally fine and not freaking out at all.

He clips the wall coming into the foyer, practically crashes over the little table he uses to stack mail—fumbles around with the chain, the deadbolt, before finally wrenching open the door.  It doesn’t occur to him until he’s sending it bouncing back against the doorstop, that it might have been a good idea to check the peephole and make sure it actually  wasn’t  some asshole out for a smash and grab in the middle of the night, or worse — a  fan.  

Richie would be less dumbfounded by either option.

He squints at the person standing in front of him, blinks.

“I’ve had this dream before,” Richie says, voice still croaky from sleep, “usually you’re wearing less clothes.”

“Jesus christ,” Eddie sighs, and rolls his eyes when Richie jumps back a bit, genuinely startled that it’s  not some manufacturing of his sordid imagination.  “I knew I shouldn’t have come here.”

28. Drives Me Wild by rustywrites - ~4,000 words, explicit - Eddie and Richie have hotel sex after RIchie wins himself an Emmy.

"I thought I told you no more jokes about how much you love my dick," Eddie says, shifting to straddle Richie's waist in earnest, rolling his hips downward just to emphasize his point, no doubt. His hands are braced on both of Richie's shoulders, pinning him back with his bodyweight, while Richie's hands are on his waist, holding him in place. It's not the most comfortable position, all things considered--Richie's knees are bent over the end of the mattress, his feet still on the floor, and they're both still in their fucking monkey suits.

Richie had tried to make the case with his agent and his manager that he should be allowed to attend the Emmys in the same clothes he always wore (jeans, a shitty t-shirt, a semi-fashionable jacket, you know, the works.) They were good enough for his specials, one of which had earned him the nomination to begin with, but both Anna and Johnathan had pushed back hard, and when Eddie had not-so-subtly sided with them, well. Suit and tie it was.

29. Rewrite by sachi_sama - ~13,000 words, mature - Stan is dead, but somehow only Eddie can see him as they race to beat It. That’s...probably not a good sign. (note: Stan stays dead in this fic.)

“Whoa. Hey, Eds, you being a weepy drunk over there?” Richie asks, and he scoots over into Stan's seemingly empty chair, and Stan vanishes as Richie's hand is suddenly on Eddie's shoulder.

“I just—I saw...” Eddie pauses, and he wipes his hands over his eyes, sniffling. When's the last time he cried? It makes his head hurt every time. “Fuck. I'm sorry, guys.” He stands abruptly. “I'm gonna go splash some water on my face.” He hurriedly exits the room and he hears Mike asking what he saw, but Eddie is already power-walking across the restaurant to the bathroom, aware Dead Stan is hot on his heels.

“Lucky. The bathroom is empty,” Stan says as he leans against the wall. Eddie looks at him, really looks, and he sees the blood on Stan's wrists.

30. ** we are all going forward, none of us are going back series by theappliepielifestyle - ~21,000 words, teen - Richie gets stuck in a time loop and forced to repeat their last stand at Neibolt over and over until he gets it right.

Richie hears himself finish saying Let’s kill this clown  and it’s only when he finishes forming the  n  that reality sets in. What the  fuck -

He whirls around. Everyone’s standing around him, just like they were last night - they’re in front of the fucking house, it’s standing again.

“What the fuck,” Richie croaks. “No, come on - what’s going on? Ohhhh fuck.”

He only lets himself stare at it for a few seconds of unbridled hate before he keeps looking at the others, who are now staring at him, pausing from where they’d all taken a step towards the house before looking back and stopping to watch Richie’s nervous breakdown.

31. ** keep talking. i’ll keep walking toward the sound of your voice. by theapplepielifestyle - 16,000 words, teen - Eddie dies, sort of, and meets Stan in the afterlife. The two of them realize that they can communicate with their friends in their dreams. Eddie has to watch Richie slowly breakdown in his absence.

32. ** happily ever afters all the way around series by theapplepielifestyle - ~35,000 words, teen - I have so much appreciation for this author’s desire to fix the ending by any means necessary. In this one, that good old turtle lends a hand and sends Richie back in time to fix everything. It’s...a lot.

Then it smooths out into an actual scene, if jumpy: a sigil on wooden boards that look a lot like the floor of Richie’s apartment. The sigil is probably drawn in blood, but it could also be red paint. Although Richie’s being  very  optimistic about that. Anyway, the dream is mostly that: the sigil being drawn, slow and precise, by Richie. It’s dark in the dream, and the sigil being drawn is overcut with more fleeting images, chased with sounds: Stan’s bloody hand dangling out of a bath. Stan as a kid, on the tail end of saying something as he walks home in the evening. Eddie with blank eyed, slumped in IT’s lair. Eddie as a kid, in mid-argument in the clubhouse. A voice so deep and impossible that it hurts, a voice that reminds him of the turtle’s gaze:  come back come back you can change the -

At the end of the dream, the scene will stabilize. Dream-Richie will say some shit he can't make out. Then he'll say the one thing he can make out, which is: I’m coming.

And then he’ll wake up.

LINK TO REDDIE FIC REC LIST PART TWO 

[whatwouldfrogsdo]

Peeling Back the Layers (Part ii: After Hazeapalooza)

In terms of Fresh, this fic lines up with chapter 5, but it's actually more of a sequel to Mistake. It also repeats a part of Surprise because it didn't make much sense without that section. (actually it's more accurate to say that I used an extract of this for Surprise).

Nursey finally tells Dex about his bipolar

Content warnings: - Discussions of bipolar (including paranoia and dissociation) - Discussions of medication, and mixing medication with alcohol

AO3

Part i (does not have to be read to understand this part): Tumblr | AO3

“Oh, hey,” Skye said, glancing up as Derek walked into their freshman suite after class the day after Hazeapalooza. Derek raised an eyebrow. Skye was the quietest of all the girls in their suite, and he wasn’t sure that she had ever spoken to him directly before. “A girl came by looking for you. I let her into your room.”

Derek frowned. He wasn’t expecting anybody. Lardo, perhaps?

It wasn’t Lardo sat in Dex’s desk chair and looking incredibly amused as she pushed his pens slightly out of line with each other.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. He flips out if I touch his stuff.”

She turned to grin at him. “And here I thought you’d learnt not to touch other people’s things after I confiscated Tigger.”

“You didn’t confiscate him, you stole him, Lei. And I was three, you could have just let me play Barbie with you.”

She laughed, and jumped to her feet to throw her arms around his neck. “I missed you, Der-bear.”

“What are you even doing here?”

Her expression turned to serious when she pulled away. “Shitty rang me.”

It took Derek by surprise, sometimes, that Leila and Shitty were friends. He and his sister hadn’t overlapped at Andover at all, her being five years older than him, but she had been there the same time as Shitty. In fact, she had known him before he became Shitty, and it frustrated Derek no end that she wouldn’t reveal his real name. “What did he ring you for?”

“He said you weren’t doing so well.”

Derek groaned, and backed up so that he could sit on his bed. “I’m doing fine. I stopped sleeping, so I went on the antipsychotics and my first day on them they decided to do hazing. It just took me by surprise, and shit happened, but I’m fine. I’ve been taking benzos, too, just to be sure. It’s all chill”

“Have you seen a doctor?”

“I rang my one in Andover.”

Leila sighed and flopped down next to him. “Okay, aboowe , I’m glad you’re trying to take care of yourself, but you do need to get a doctor closer to here, and you need to let other people look after you properly when something happens.”

“It’s chill.”

“It’s okay if it’s not, though,” she told him. “And I’m serious about the doctor. If only because it’s ridiculous to have to drive up to Andover every time you need a prescription.”

Derek let his head come to rest on his sister’s shoulder and breathed out a sigh. “Okay.”

“Promise me you won’t deal with all of this on your own.”

“I promise. There’s a few people now, on the team, who know at least bits and pieces.”

“Including your roommate?”

“Er, no. Dex doesn’t know anything.”

“You know it’ll be easier if he does.”

Derek didn’t know what to say. Leila had no idea of the relationship between him and Dex, and trying to explain the complexities of how they got along, or the way that there was only a small collection of things Derek could actually talk to Dex about, was impossible.

When he didn’t respond, she just knocked her shoulder against his and pulled his laptop onto her knees, guessed his password right on the second try and brought up Netflix. Derek tried to remember the last time things were so calm and simple between he and Leila. Childhood had been arguments and tension and the constant feeling of being overshadowed. Even at Andover, the upperclassmen had all looked at him and immediately said “You’re Lei’s brother.” That had become his persona for two years until everyone who had known her had graduated. Derek wondered if what fixed their relationship was just them growing up or him finally going to a school where the only person who knew her was Shitty.

“I’m glad you came,” he muttered, and when she looked at him, he could see she wasn’t expecting him to say anything like that.

“Of course I did. You’re my baby brother. It wasn’t too bad a surprise, then?”

“Nah.”

They watched a film, and then two episodes of Brooklyn Nine Nine, and then Dex walked in. As Leila scrambled to cover her hair with the scarf she had abandoned on his pillow, Derek tensed. They had barely spoken the past couple of days — not since before Hazeapalooza. Dex didn’t look over at Derek’s bed as he strode across the room and dropped his bag in its place under his desk. He froze, head bowed over the desk, then a shaking hand came up to slowly fix the crooked pens. He turned back to Derek, eyes narrowed.

“That was her,” Derek said quickly, pointing at Leila.

“You always were a tattle-tale. Hi. I’m Leila. Sorry about that. He was late.”

Dex looked between them. “Derek’s sister, right?”

“That’s me!”

“He didn’t say you were going to be visiting.”

Derek scoffed. “Ch’yeah, you need to talk to me for—”

“Well, to be quite honest, I didn’t tell him, either,” Leila interrupted

Dex flexed his hand. “Oh. Just… I mean, no offence or anything but I kind of thought you two didn’t really—”

Leila snapped her head towards Derek. “What the hell have you told him?”

“Nothing about you!” Dex said quickly, hands up in surrender. “Just about your parents, and—”

Derek sucked in a breath. “Shit. Shut up, Dex.”

“What did you say?” Leila asked in Gujarati.

Derek flinched. “Nothing, just— Fuck.”

“Tell me,” she demanded of Dex.

“That they forgot his birthday,” he replied.

Derek flinched. “Lei, it’s not—”

“You ungrateful little brat,” she snapped, and he shut up.

“Is that not—?” Dex looked bewildered now.

“Ever since I went to Andover we’ve celebrated birthdays in the school holidays,” she told him, then continued in Somali for Derek’s sake, “And Diri knows better than to use mental illness as an excuse to be a dick about it.” Derek sunk backwards in shame.

Dex blinked. “That was a different language.”

The comment made Derek snort. “Yeah, ‘cause she doesn’t know how to say mental illness in Gujarati. That’s something we’ve only ever talked about in English or Somali.”

“Mental— What— How many languages do you speak?”

“English, Gujarati, Arabic, some Somali and AP Spanish,” Derek listed off.

“Oh my God, AP Spanish doesn’t count, you nerd,” Leila interrupted. “And fucking tell him before I do, because you need someone who can keep an eye on you so that the shit show of Monday night doesn’t happen again. You notice he wasn’t sleeping?” She pointed at Dex, whose eyes were bulging out their sockets.

“Uh… Maybe, yeah, I guess. But I didn’t think— That’s just college, though.”

She huffed. “Yeah, for some students it might be. Where’s your bathroom?”

Derek sighed and pointed the way she needed to go. When she had slammed the door behind her, he spent a few seconds pulling at the blankets where she had been sat. Finally, he looked up to meet Dex’s eye. “I’m sorry I lied about my parents. That’s not why that birthday sucked, but it was always the easier thing to say. It’s always what I told everyone else, and soon as I knew the truth about yours, going back on what I’d said seemed like it would hurt you more. I can’t— I don’t want you to think I’m a mess if I tell you.”

“I already think you’re a complete train-wreck, Nursey, it’s okay.” An amused smirk played on his lips, but he quickly seemed to realize it was the wrong thing to say, because he got up and took up Leila’s vacated spot on the bed. “Shit, I don’t mean that. I mean, you let me think you had shitty parents just because mine are dead, which is a bit messed up, but whatever it is, you can tell me, okay? No judgement.”

“I don’t know how to—” Derek shook his head and fell silent.

“Why don’t you start with what happened on Monday night. At Hazeapalooza, does she mean? You weren’t even drinking that much, so—”

“Yeah, but I was on pills that I’m not supposed to drink anything with. Well, technically, the ones I take every day say not to drink with them, but I know my limits with them normally and I can work around it. When I’m taking the extra lot I can’t. I got paranoid quicker, and dizzy and shit which didn’t help. But, uh, the short of it is that I have bipolar. And recently I’ve been slipping into a manic episode, so— Uh. Yeah, so that’s a thing, and now you know.”

Dex reached out and wrapped his hand around Derek’s. “What, uh… What exactly does that mean? For you. If you don’t— I mean, I can Google symptoms and stuff if you don’t want to talk about it.”

“Right. Yeah. Uh, well before I was on medication, it got really bad. I used to hallucinate. It was like someone was sat there telling me to do things, and I had no sense of why it was a bad idea. There was this one time I was absolutely convinced that me and my friends would be able to go clubbing even though we were fifteen and none of us had fake ID. Mostly back then it was compulsively buying things, booking holidays, that sort of shit. I don’t sleep, and just feel really pumped up. I could do anything.”

“But Monday—”

“Monday we fought, and then I found out something I shouldn’t, and I got about as stressed as is possible for me. I hit a limit and it’s like my brain short circuits, and I dissociate. It’s like having an out of body experience, but… less spiritual or whatever. It wasn’t too bad. Shitty sort of knew what was going on, and caught it early. The further I’m into it, the harder it is to get me out, but Monday I was aware. I don’t think I even lost any time.”

Dex frowned and rubbed his thumb over Derek’s knuckles. “How long can it last, then?”

“I’ve lost three days before. I woke up on Monday thinking that it was Friday. The whole weekend had just gone. The longest I’d count as normal for me is a couple of hours, though, if I’m on lithium.”

“And bipolar… That’s swings, right? So you have, uh… downs? As well?”

“Depressive episodes. I guess I have a few months of mania and then some time of just normal, and then a few months of depression. But I’m on mood stabilisers, so you shouldn’t have to worry about that happening.”

“Let me know if it does, though. Please? You’re my d-man, I’ve gotta have your back. I won’t ghost you again, I promise. I just— it’s hard to fight with you when we can’t get any space from each other to cool down after. But me having your back is more important than a stupid little fight.”

Derek sighed and rested his head on Dex’s shoulder. “Okay. Thank-you. I will. Let you know, that is.” He felt the brush of Dex’s lips over his forehead and he smiled softly.

“So everything’s okay?” Dex asked, “With your parents?”

“They’re the best. They’re both coming to family weekend, actually, so you’ll meet them.”

After a moment’s silence, Dex spoke again. “AP Spanish definitely doesn’t count. I did that, too, and got a 5 and I only count myself as speaking one language. It’s like knowing a bit of ASL doesn’t count. I couldn’t hold up a conversation with a native speaker.”

“Are you saying you know ASL?”

“Not much. Most people can at least do the alphabet, right?”

Derek shrugged. “You wanna take Spanish with me next semester? Get the language requirement out the way?”

“Couldn’t you just take Arabic?”

“It’s more interesting if I get to learn something new. We only have to do one course of it if we got a 5, right?”

“Your sister’s right, you’re a nerd.”

Derek grinned and snuggled into Dex’s neck. After a pause, Dex tugged on him so that Derek ended up in his lap, and lay back against the wall, cradling him in his arms.

“Tell me what helps?”

Derek hummed. “This is helping. Touch. It’s grounding. I have my blanket and Tigger for that too. Reminders to eat and drink and take my pills are important but I’ll probably get irritated with you for not trusting me to remember them on my own. It depends on my mood, I guess. But… Yeah. This is helping a lot.” He suppressed a yawn. Dex’s lips brushed against his forehead, and Derek lifted his chin for a proper kiss.

They sprang apart when Leila walked back in, Derek tripping over himself to get out of Dex’s lap, but she regarded them both with a discerning look and shrugged. “Hey, I’m not going to judge what you two get up to in your own bedroom. I’m craving Thai.”

“Okay, let’s go get food.” Derek pulled himself up off the bed, and looked back at Dex. “Are you coming?”

“Uh, no, I told Chowder I’d meet him at dinner so we can work on some coding. Uh, and I think I need a bit of time to process. Research. Stuff like that.”

Derek nodded and walked away without saying anything else. He wasn’t sure how to handle the fact that he really wanted to kiss Dex again to say goodbye. That wasn’t something they did.

[bettycper]

we’ve never met but, can we have a coffee or something? (1)

Betty has had a shitty morning and is recovering in the local coffee shop…. only to be pushed over and called an asshole by a stranger (Jughead). Jughead immediately realises they aren’t the person they thought they were (a friend who played a wicked prank on him). Jughead apologises and asks Betty if they can buy them another coffee (which of course ends up basically being a date). Based off the prompt here + http://otpprompts.tumblr.com/post/162911421425/person-a-has-had-a-shitty-morning-and-is

chapters 1 / 2 / 3

ao3 link

Betty Cooper was having the worst morning of her life, which was almost the same as every morning, if it weren't for her receiving the news that she'd be dropped from her AP classes next year due to grades that didn't surpass qualification. She got the call at the crack ass of dawn, seeing the number on their home phone and hoping it would be a teacher calling her about the next years AP classes. Instead, her summer was officially started off as the worst summer yet. Her mom advised her to work hard this summer and try out again next year, but Betty knew there was nothing she could do. Her grades were slipping as she fell deeper into a depression spell, and there was nothing that would bring her back unless that thing was a miracle known otherwise as Archie Andrews. It didn't help that Jason Blossom, the king of Football and Water Polo, ended up 50 feet below in Sweetwater River on June 4th; everyone was affected, and it didn't help Betty's mood in the slightest. She decided to go to the local café, earbuds blasting some pretentious indie girl music straight in her brain.

She walked up to the counter, fisting a 10 that was already wrinkled in the pockets of her denim shorts. She ordered an even more pretentious drink that cost a whopping 6 dollars, taking herself and her beverage to the table with tons of creamers, sugars, and anything else that made coffee taste less like coffee. She poured tons of exotics into her concoction, strapping on a cheap foam lid. On a walk to the umbrella seats outside, she felt someone calling in her direction. "Emily. Emily what the hell! Face me, you asshole." She looked back and saw Jughead Jones, a Junior at Riverdale High, running towards her as fast as possible, knocking her and her elixir over on impact, both spilling out on the concrete.

"You... aren't Emily. Oh, oh god. I'm so sorry, here let me help you-" He reached a hand out and she took it, scrambling to pick her post-shock body up off the ground. "Are you okay?" He dusted off some rocks that landed on her shoulders and back while she examined the scrapes and scratches she was awarded. "Yeah! I'm sorry I'm not who you're looking for. Jughead, right?" He nodded in response. "Yeah, I've seen you around school once or twice," "I'm sorry that that happened, my friend Emily put this god awful sauce stuff in my shoes and I was stuck all morning washing them," Her nose wrinkled at the thought of putting your feet into sauce-filled sneakers. He apparently thought that was cute, dipping his head down and letting out a soft chuckle. "Ew, that sucks. I hope you find her and sock it to her," She smiled in return to his. "Hey, um. The least I can do is grab you a drink?" He looked over his shoulder at the café she was at just a few minutes ago. The words played through her ears. "One summer can change everything", "Time goes too fast to waste", "Take chances, Betty". After a moment of hesitation and imagining going on a coffee date with some emo from school would look, she smiled and replied. "Yeah, absolutely! I think i brought my wallet with me-" She reached to get it and his hand outreached and held her wrist, them locking eyes before he pulled it back. "I almost just burned you alive, I think I can manage it"

They sat at an umbrella'd table across from each other, Betty opting out for a cheaper tea so she didn't feel bad about him spending money, and him sipping an even more pretentious drink than she bought earlier. "So, what do you do?" She quizzed him, wanting to get to know the stranger better. "I work at the Twilight Drive-In. Practically live there, too," "Really? I love that place! I used to go all the time with my friend Archie-" "Archie? Archie Andrews? Ginger breathtaker?" "That would be him, yeah!" "We used to be best friends, before some dumb teenage bullshit tore our friendship to shreads," Betty's glowing face turned sulky, a question forming on her lips, but before she could ask, he changed the topic. "So, cheerleading?" She shook her head and smiled on the inside, glad she could talk about some good thing at school. "Yeah! It's really fun," "Even Cheryl Blossom?" They both laughed and shook their head as a response to his question. "Absolutely not! Have you ever tried shaking around while a witch is screaming at you to go harder?" "I have not, but I can imagine you shaking around would look nice no matter if there's screaming or not?" An eyebrow raised and Betty hid her blush under her hands. "Oh. My god. I swear, you're no good, and I've known you for about..." She looked down at her phone. "10 minutes-" "And that, Betty Cooper," He took a swig of his coffee, trying to hide the fact it just burned his tongue, "Is a definite issue. My place, 8?" She skimmed through her daily plans that she had neatly laid out on a Word document to 7 PM, 8 PM, and 9 PM. All she had was studying for something she could handle for the next 3 months and a shower, which would absolutely be taken care of prior to their hang out. "Sure! Wanna text me your address?" She slid her phone over to Jughead, the LEDs displaying a contact sheet. He punched the digits in, sending a text just to be sure. He was not going to miss out on Riverdale's finest, Betty Cooper, coming over, especially not at 8 PM. "I'll see you, yes?" He raised an eyebrow just to be sure this wasn't some crazy wet fever dream "Absolutely. 8 PM. Sharp" They exchanged a smile, and soon enough she was picking up her drawstring and tea and heading off.

Her phone dinged a few minutes later "See you tonight." The contact name above displayed Juggie. "What an interesting nickname you put down here" She responded. "Yeah, you have a problem with it?" "Shut up, I'll see you tonight." She replied, putting her phone in her pocket and walking home.

[titriwrites]

Scoop! - Chapter 9

A/N: Oh Gosh, I’m so sorry! Real life got in the way of writing a little bit. Also, no real Tom in this chapter, and it’s a little shorter and dialogue heavy, but they needed to talk about the stuff, because the part about Sam and his job may be significant for things to come. Chapter 10 will have Tom, and fluff and The Jungle Book! But have fun with chapter 9 first!

The Troubles

You think it’s easier To put your finger on the trouble When the trouble is you And you think it’s easier To know your own tricks Well, it’s the hardest thing you’ll ever do

“The Troubles” by U2

The next days were strange for Josefine. She felt like she was in some kind of limbo. She had a story, one that would get her readers, one that William certainly would approve. And still, she hadn’t told him, and she didn’t write it down. Of course, she made some notes, thought about how to approach the topic, but didn’t even outline the article. Jo told herself that it was simply because she still had time until the middle of January before she would have to show it to William, or – being the deputy editor-in-chief – to Sam. Lots and lots of time, so no need to write the article now. After all, she still had to do her regular work.

Well, she needed a few days, and the weekend, for that conclusion. Tom had written her the evening he arrived at the UNICEF camp to tell her he’d arrived safely, and again on Saturday, just because he wanted to. The fact that she was extremely giddy about that caused a phone call with Eva on Sunday evening, when Jo couldn’t concentrate on anything anymore.

“How’s the boyfriend?” was the first thing Eva asked. “Do you have any news? Did you sleep together? Are you going to move to Germany? Or did you find all of his dirty laundry?”

Jo rolled her eyes. “He’s not my boyfriend, Eva. We had a date, like I told you.” She twirled the wine in her glass as she sat on her couch on the gallery. “We made out, and before he told me he cheated on his girlfriend he had some years ago. Nobody knows about that.”

On the other side of the line, Eva almost choked. At least, it sounded like it. “Wow. So, you’ve got your story?” to which Jo only mumbled something even she wasn’t sure about, which prompted Eva to ask her friend again. “Jo? You’ve got you story, right? So, you’ll end this?”

“Yes, I guess.”

“What do you mean, ‘you guess’? That’s the story. You told me it was about the story, so now you have it. You can stop meeting him, tell him some lie, why you can’t see him anymore, and then by the beginning of February, he’ll know why. But then it won’t matter, because this was just one date – or three dates – and nothing more. Right?” Josefine knew that sound in Eva’s voice. It was the ‘I repeat everything you told me, but I know you’re wrong, but look how much I support you’-voice. Jo hated it. Mostly because Eva was almost always right.

“Well, I’m not even sure if it’s that good. Maybe I’ll find something better.” Eva’s silence told Jo her best friend saw right through that lie. “Or not,” she muttered.

“You’ve fallen for him!”

“What? No!” That was ridiculous. They’ve known each other for a month. She didn’t fall for men that quickly. Except that other men weren’t him, and that you could probably fall for him in thirty seconds, just by looking at him.

“Maybe I believe you, if you shout that a little louder next time,” Eva snickered from the other side of the line, then sighed, “You’re in big trouble, Fine.”

“I –“

“You are. I’ve known you for a long time. I’ve seen and heard you falling for your boyfriends. I know I’m not there, and I know you can’t tell me, and that he won’t be your boyfriend, but it’s in your voice.” She paused, then added, “He won’t be your boyfriend, right? I know you’re panicking at the moment, because of your job, the money, the flat, and London, and that’s why you’re doing this ‘going on dates to get information’-thing, but that’s not you. You won’t go as far as faking a real relationship with him, right? Because that’d be fucked up.”

Jo didn’t say anything for a long time, and Eva didn’t, either. Her best friend was right. Stringing people along wasn’t something she would normally do. Faking feelings wasn’t like Jo as well. So why was she so willing to do this with Tom, to Tom?

She groaned when the realisation dawned on her. “I won’t. And I’m not faking the dates, either.”

Josefine had to hold the phone away from her ear when Eva let out a scream. “Ha! See? I’ve told you! You’ve fallen for him!”

“No! Really, I haven’t! But I guess, I could, if I continue this.”

“So, either you don’t continue, or you will both end up heartbroken, hm?” She could hear the sympathy in her best friend’s voice, but it didn’t really help either way.

“I guess so.”

“Or...well, you could just drop it, tell him now, and you’ll have a great long-distance relationship as soon as he realises, you didn’t cause any damage, and he’s madly in love with you.”

“You know, I don’t want to go back. I’ll just have to not fall in love, and have him not fall in love, either.”

“Yeah, sounds like a plan,” came the sarcastic reply. “But I guess I support you anyway. Just for the record, I think it’s a stupid idea.”

“Duly noted.”

“And another thing; I think it would be way easier to talk about this, if I knew who that man was.”

Despite the situation she was in, Jo managed a grin. “Yeah. No.”

After the phone call, Jo felt better. She still didn’t know what exactly she should do with the information, since she still felt uncomfortable exposing a man she spent a lot of time with like this. But at least, Jo knew that she had support in Eva. She might yell at her, but she would be there.

Jo’s good mood lasted all Sunday night, and she almost made it to the whole Monday as well, if it wasn’t for a text from Tom, and a dinner with Nick and Sam in the evening.

T: I’m back in London, darling! All safe, just tired!

J: I’m so glad to hear that!

T: I missed you.

J: I missed you, too. How was it?

T: I can’t even begin to explain the things I saw…

J: You want to talk about it?

T: Right now, all I want is a hot shower and then sleep for a week. But I’ll be on the BBC tomorrow to talk about this, and then I’m off having all sorts of meetings. I’ll be free on Thursday, though!

J: Me, too ;)

T: You want to come over?

J: Would love to! And now go to sleep! And shower first!

T: And think of you.

J: That, too, if you want.

So, they’d have another date. No big deal. Jo actually was a little giddy, and couldn’t wait to listen to Tom speaking about South Sudan. She’d definitely make sure to watch his interview on the BBC as well. She missed his voice, his eyes, and his mouth. Gosh, how she missed his mouth. His hands as well, or just sitting next to him.

“Jo?!” Nick’s voice brought her back to the present, sitting at the dinner table with her two roommates, a nice roast and mashed potatoes in front of her.

“Hm?” was her not that well-articulated reply as she looked into the two grinning faces of Nick and Sam.

“Are you still with us?” Sam grinned. “I think we’ve been talking to you for five minutes now.”

“Yes, sorry. Just…thought about something.”

“Something or someone?” Nick chimed in, earning a high-five and a large grin from his boyfriend, but only a glare from the woman at the table. “Oh, come on! It was your handsome actor boyfriend you just thought about!”

“Not –“

“Not your boyfriend, we know,” Sam said, rolling his eyes. “You told us, multiple times actually. But you date, you can’t deny that. And I saw that look on your face just now. He may not be in town at the moment, or be your boyfriend, but you want him to. One thing or the other, or both, I’m not sure yet.” The grin around his red-bearded chin was large, and his eyes sparkled. Nick looked equally giddy, stuffing his face with the last of his mashed potatoes. Great, at least they had fun with this.

Jo sighed. Maybe it would be easier to just give in and go along with it. “It’s nicer when he’s here, yes. And maybe I miss him a little bit. We’ll meet Thursday night.”

“Oh, that’s our date night. He can come over when Nick and I aren’t here then.”

“That’s very considerate of you, but we’ve already made plans for me to go over to his house.” Jo could see the disappointment in both men’s faces, and looked at her plate to hide the grin spreading on her face. She was sure her roommates would have gone on their date a little later to catch a glimpse of Tom. “Maybe next time.”

“So there will be next times. Nice. I must say, I really admire his trust in you.”

Jo raised her eyes to look at Sam. “What do you mean?”

“Well,” he shifted a little bit. “Obviously, I don’t mean you personally, but I just mean that he must really like you. It’s not easy for actors to trust journalists enough to actually date them. And for Tom, after the summer he had, it must be especially hard. So, kudos to him,” he then explained, before chewing on the last of piece of roast.

“He’s right. After everything the media did to him and that relationship, he must really put a lot of trust in you.” Nick stopped a moment and then looked at Jo, suddenly alarmed. “Is everything alright? You’re pale. We didn’t mean it critically. It’s a compliment actually.”

She felt horrible, absolutely horrible. It was bad enough when she talked about all of this to Eva, but it remained anonymous then. Hearing them both talk about the past summer, Tom’s relationship with the media, and his trust in her made Jo feel sick. It scrambled her brain to think about it, and she tried to come up with an explanation for her behaviour, but there was nothing, just empty space. They all would hate her when the story would come out, right? Sam and Nick, Eva, and let alone Tom.

“Hey, everything’s alright. Remember, I’m a journalist, too. I know our reputation is quite shitty sometimes depending on where we work, but I promise you, you’ll be fine.”

“Yes,” Jo answered, finally finding her voice. “Yes, you’re right. Thank you, Sam. I guess, I really shouldn’t screw this up then, right?” She forced an easy smile on her face, but wasn’t really sure, if she succeeded, especially with Sam and Nick looking at her all concerned and with pity.

“Have you never talked about that? You being a journalist? Hell, Sam and I talked about it on our first dates, and he’s not even remotely covering my field of expertise…yet.”

Jo shrugged. She really just wanted this conversation to be over. “I told him what I do for a living in the beginning, told him it was okay to leave. But he stayed, and we never mentioned anything about trusting each other again. We’ve known each other for a month, mind you.” She paused, looked up, and saw the looks Sam and Nick threw at each other when it dawned on her. “Wait, what do you mean, he’s not covering your field of expertise ‘yet’?”

Sam sighed. “I didn’t want to tell you tonight.” He shot a look at Nick, before he continued, “but I’m resigning. I’m going to start at the London Times in February. The financial news department searched for a new head. And here I am.”

“So, we won’t be co-workers anymore?”

“We won’t be co-workers anymore,” he nodded. “Are you alright with that?”

“I’m going to miss you at work, I guess. But I’m proud of you, Sam. I’m really proud.” She swallowed, but beamed at him. Tonight was a bit much for her. Sam always kept her grounded at work. She wasn’t sure how it would be working without him. That didn’t mean she wasn’t happy for her friend, though.

“Thank you. What are you working on, by the way? I feel like I always see you and William whispering. It’s one of his secret projects again, isn’t it?”

The laughter didn’t sound real, even to her ears. “Nothing. Absolutely nothing.”

“You’re working on ‘nothing’?” Nick asked, eyebrows raised. “Well, that’s not suspicious at all.”

“I mean, of course, I’m working on things. Like, regular things. A lot of regular things, premieres, books, music. You know?”

“You’re rambling.”

“I’m not rambling, Sam. I’m not. I just have a lot of work, as you know, and yes, William asked me to do a little research on something. But I can’t really tell anyone. So, stop making me nervous.”

“Okay.”

“Okay, good.” Jo stood up from the table. “Hey, are you alright with cleaning up? I mean, I cooked. And I really need to use the bathroom. Thanks.” Without waiting for an answer, Jo marched to the bathroom, closing the door a little harsher than necessary. This was all becoming a big mess. And dating an actor didn’t mean she could act herself, as she just realised.

At the kitchen table, Nick and Sam shared a look. “Well, that wasn’t strange at all,” the redhead then whispered, receiving a nod in return.

Tagging @devikafernando, because she asked me too ;)

[james-bionic-barnes]

Friendly Neighborhood Bucky

Summary: You and Bucky are neighbors, speaking only to say hi to each other. But when a spider appears in your bathtub, Bucky comes to your rescue.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: ~1800

Warnings: Language, & a spider (but Bucky comes to your rescue).

Based off of a list of prompts/au’s: “this is totally awkward considering before this the only interactions we’ve ever had have been casual nods to each other in the hallway but there’s a huge fucking spider in my bath tub and you seem like the friendly neighbor type please help me” au

A/N: I’m really stuck on my new series so here’s this random one-shot to have something new out there. Hope you enjoy :) Also, sorry the formatting is a little messed up?? I can’t get it to work no matter what I do. It’s correct in the document but not after posting. 

         Trudging up the stairs to your apartment, you feel heavier and heavier with every step you take. Your day hasn’t exactly been the best – for one, work had been incredibly busy, all the work you were doing causing your entire body to ache, and your head to hurt from all the yelling your boss threw at you during the chaos. Every metallic clang of your boots hitting the steps just makes your head pound that much more – no matter how softly you step. And not to mention you are absolutely drenched. Mother Nature decided on your walk home that you could use a second shower, and so it practically deluged on you, soaking you completely, even through your coat. You are soggy and cold and all you want to do is take a nice, calming bath to get over your shitty day.

         When you reach the hallway leading down to your apartment, you sigh in relief – you’re almost home free. Just a few more feet and you’ll be home, in your own little bubble, where there’s no one yelling at you, no customers demanding the impossible from you, where you can relax in peace.

         But, of course, fate decides you need a bit more crap in your day, so you see your neighbor walking up the other set of stairs opposite of you. It’s too late to duck behind the corner – he’s already in the hallway with you. Looks like you’re facing him head on.

         “Hey,” he greets warmly as he always does, stepping up to his apartment door as he begins to unlock it.

         “Hi,” you respond, trying to keep your head down – you’re sure running mascara and soaked hair isn’t a very good look for you. Nevertheless, you make it inside your apartment (after dropping your keys trying to unlock the door, of course) and slump against the door with a huge sigh. You’re more than ready for this shitty day to be over and for the good parts of the day to take over – but it appears it’ll be a struggle to get to that point. The bad things kept walking right up to you, it seemed.

         The day you moved in to this apartment complex, you ran into your neighbor as you were carrying boxes up. You literally ran into him. As you were struggling to keep the box you were carrying upright, you rushed down the hall and didn’t see him coming. Luckily, after the two of you collided, he managed to stop you from falling, as well as stopping the box from dropping. You looked up to thank him, your eyes meeting his dark blue ones. Naturally, you were lost for a moment, and you didn’t hear him asking you if you were all right. You managed to come back to reality after probably a very awkward silence, and you smiled at him, thanking him and practically sprinting into your apartment out of sheer embarrassment.

         It was only after you replayed the event in your head later that day that you realized that he seemed a bit familiar to you – and when you remembered how hard his left arm felt against your waist, the pieces came together, allowing your scrambled brain to realize that your neighbor was none other than the Winter Soldier. Why he was living in an apartment complex instead of at the Avenger’s Compound was a mystery to you. But he seemed nice enough, and he never caused too much noise, so you didn’t mind.

         You and Bucky never talk apart from greeting each other whenever you see one another in the hallway. But those little moments are wonderful – in your mind, anyway. His smile is one of the best things you have ever seen. Plus, occasionally, he’ll either be leaving for or coming back from a mission, so there are some days you see him in some of his combat clothes – naturally, he wouldn’t walk through an apartment complex with all his weapons visible, but you’re sure they are somewhere on him. You have to admit he looks good in leather. You’re honestly sure he’d look good in a potato sack.

         Doing your best to clear your head of Bucky, you let your bag fall to the floor as you peel off your coat, letting that drop too, continuing to walk toward your bathroom as you strip off the layers of clothing on you. You’ll pick them up later – right now, you need to get your bath started – this will be what will make your shitty day disappear and will relax you enough to let you just fall asleep. You grab some of your scented candles and light them to help create the relaxing atmosphere you want this bathroom to have. Before stripping down out of your undershirt and leggings, you reach down to close the drain on the tub.

         And come face-to-face with a massive spider.

         Well, maybe not a huge one – it’s no bigger than your palm, but the fact remains that it’s there and it’s practically staring you down, as if it’s the last test in your shitty day, as though it’s just daring you to try and do something to make you feel better. You hate spiders, and so, naturally, you let out a quick scream in reaction, flailing backwards. Luckily, you don’t trip over anything and manage to back up toward your vanity counter, putting a bit more distance between you and the monster.

         You hear a loud series of knocks on your door, and before you can even answer, your door is being kicked open. Your scream gets stuck in your throat from the shock of seeing Bucky running into your apartment, holding a gun. He’s still dressed in some of his combat gear, but you notice his jacket is missing, revealing just a fitted black athletic shirt. His eyes glance around the apartment before locking onto yours, and narrowing slightly in confusion – but you’re the one who’s  really confused. You’re relieved at the fact it’s him and not a murderer, but still you’re confused.

         “Are you okay?” he asks. “I heard you scream, what’s wrong?

         “Uh… yeah, I’m okay. Well, kind of. I just have a small intruder in my home. N-not a person or anything, just a spider,” you quickly add after seeing Bucky’s expression at the prospect of someone actually being in your apartment. He sighs, tucking the gun behind his back after you finish.

         “You mean to say… you only screamed because of a spider?” Bucky asks, folding his arms across his chest.

         “Don’t you dare judge me,” you reply, pointing a finger at him, and then at your broken door. “You broke down my door because of a spider. And it’s not like it’s a tiny one, it’s a massive one.”

         He rolls his eyes, laughing. “Excuse me for thinking my neighbor was being attacked. I’ll fix your door, I promise. Or cover the cost for it if I can’t fix it.”

         You nod. “Good. But since you’re here so ready to defend me, will you please remove that monster from my bathtub? You don’t have to kill it, but just… relocate it far away from here.”

          Bucky laughs again as he uncrosses his arms, stepping past you and into your bathroom. He’s silent for a few moments before he speaks. “I’m not finding it.”

         “Oh, hell no. I’m moving, I’m out of here,” you say, backing up out of the bathroom.

         “Okay, okay, I’m kidding. Wow. You must really hate spiders,” Bucky says, bending down to reach into the bathtub.

         “I think I hate you more right now,” you reply, staring at him angrily, but nonetheless playfully – even with him joking around with such a serious matter such as an eight-legged monster in your bathtub, you can’t help but smile a bit. He just has that effect on you, it seems.

         Bucky walks past you, his hands cupped together to keep the spider from escaping as he slips through the door, disappearing for a few moments. He returns with a sigh, his hands empty, thankfully.

         “Your little intruder has been successfully relocated to a dark corner on the second floor,” Bucky tells you. “You can rest easily now.”

         Sighing in relief, you smile softly up at him. “Thank you. Even though you did break down my door.”

         “Oh, speaking of which, let me get to fixing that,” he replies. “I’m just going to go grab some stuff from my apartment.”

         You start up a pot of coffee for the both of you as you pick up your clothes and change into some dry ones. Way to make a great first impression, Y/N, dirty clothes everywhere and freaking out over a spider. Great job, he’ll totally fall in love. Well, he did kick down my door. We’re even, I guess.

         Bucky returns a couple minutes later, a toolkit in hand. He kneels in front of your door, starting to work on repairing the door jamb.

         “I’m sure this wasn’t what you were expecting today,” Bucky says. You shrug, hopping up onto your kitchen counter as you watch him.

         “Oddly enough, it’s not that surprising. My day has been terrible, life just needed to throw a few other things at me,” you reply. “But I will admit, you breaking down my door, gun in hand, was very unexpected. So props to you.”

        Bucky laughs again, shaking his head as he turns to look at you. “I was prepared to shoot whatever I needed to. Didn’t think the threat would be a spider, though, so you surprised me too.”

         “Spiders are threatening. Well, I don’t hate them, I’m just scared of them,” you replied. “Is the Winter Soldier afraid of any creepy crawly creatures?”

         He shrugged. “Bugs don’t bother me. Snakes are a little sketchy. Cool, but sketchy.”

         You smile. “Huh. Okay. So you’ll go into a firefight and risk your life constantly, but get a little jumpy when you see a snake?”

         Bucky laughs. “Says the girl who screams when she sees a spider.” He closes the door, opening it and locking it to double check that it’s fixed before wiping his hands, turning to you. “You know, I’m pretty sure you know my name, but I don’t know yours.”

         Smiling, you hop off the counter, extending out a hand. “I’m Y/N.”

         “Nice to meet you, Y/N,” he says, shaking your hand. Your skin practically buzzes at the contact, and you can’t help but blush a little as he smiles down at you. He bends down, picking up the toolkit. “And you know where to find me if you ever need rescuing from spiders again.”

         “What if it’s to ask if you want to get a cup of coffee or something?” you ask him. You’re not sure where the flirty demeanor comes from, but you’ll take it while you have it, especially if a guy like Bucky is standing in front of you.

         He smirks, opening your door. “Well, if that’s the case, then I’ll be waiting for a knock on my door, doll.”

         As Bucky shuts your door behind him, your hand still buzzing from touching his and the blush still prominent in your cheeks, you know you would gladly take on more spiders if it meant Bucky coming to your rescue.

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