#richie doesn’t clean his glasses

[kdbleu]

Costuming and The Bear...

So, costuming on TV, in a movie always means something even if it’s only a representation of the character. The Bear seems to use that on the next level, too, on the more thematic/symbolic level.

Richie wearing only Beef merchandise is the most obvious use of both these ideas, because it’s not subtle, like Richie is not subtle. His adherence to the Beef dress code shows that his character is tied more to the past than the present/future, and that he’s outside the rest of the group as the kitchen staff dons the new blue aprons. The only exception Richie makes in the present is when he’s on a date. Which says something too. That Richie knows how to fit social expectations. Even how to impress if he keeps his mouth shut.

Clear, color separation is used with Sugar. She wears civvies because she doesn’t work in the kitchen, but she’s in orange, the opposite of blue on the color wheel in the pilot, and pink, a social opposite of blue later when she comes to clean up the shot-out glass and search the office for the tax paperwork. This makes it obvious that she doesn’t work in the restaurant, and she doesn’t like it. In the season 2 trailer, talking to Cicero, she coordinates with Carmy and Sydney, showing that she’s coming around.

There’s a distinct present quality in the blue apron uniform as Mikey’s kitchen staff only adds Carmy’s apron to their usual personalized work wear while Carmy and Sydney wear more personally standardized white tops and black/dark pants that not only are consistent but coordinate with each other, already making them a unit within the unit.

This apron/group dynamic is heightened by it not only being pointed out by Tina, but by Tina going from not wearing the blue apron to Carmy remarking that she looks like Sydney when Tina finally does and Tina in return saying to him she’s “profesh” now. It's interesting that Tina wears a white blouse, like Sydney, before the blue apron. It’s the apron and Carmy she resists not the kitchen uniform, but it hints at the future before she joins the present. And before she sheds her individualism.

This desire for individualism leads to Sydney’s scarves, her show of individualism and how she works the fact that she has to hold her braids back into something distinct and bold within her personal uniform that she likely spent a lot of time working towards as she figured out how stand out as herself in a professional kitchen in a way that could not be argued with. Although she also probably played closer to the rules in an attempt to almost hide, wearing something very discreet until she found a place and acceptance at the Beef with Carmy. She wears a more subtle version of her scarf in episode 1 with it rolled then she does in later episodes with the triangle point showing off more color. I envision her wearing the rolled version while catering and interviews because it’s a little sleeker while still hinting and her boldness.

Carmy keeping to his own version of a very classic chef look shows his insecurity even as he comes into his own. He wants to wear something he’s comfortable in that hints at the denim collection and keeps him close to Mikey, but white tee and black work pants with a blue apron is still very professional kitchen. Carmy shows off on the plate, not in his uniform, which he keeps no matter how he’s working in the restaurant or where he’s cooking. Except at home, which is notable. This is echoed in his off-duty clothes, muted colors, and denim, as opposed Sydney’s prints, stripes and screen tees.

All of this is a very winding way to say that all the costume choices mean something. It’s something that the new girl will have a uniform that matches Sugar’s life outside the Beef/Bear. That Richie has Berf merch hidden in someone’s basement, a further tie to the messed up past. That Tina seems to be doing better in culinary school than Ebra. That Marcus and Fak have their own flair.

(There’s not enough of Marcus in the trailers to really guess at his path forward, just rumors, so I’m going to hold off on him in season 2, but in season 1 he falls between present and past but definitely in action looks to his future. I mean, he’s obsessed with possibility and donuts.)

But it also signifies a lot that Carmy and Sydney match in one chaos menu scene but not in the other. Just like it’s important they’re in his home. So, yeah, Carmy and Sydney standing outside their evolving restaurant with Carmy in his personal uniform and Sydney in a personalized inverse of that uniform is a moment that ties them as equals who fit together and complement each other. The fact that they’re together day and, if BTS shot are to be believed, night looking up to the future means they’re a pair. No matter what that future might hold. (the picture is from @devisrina's blog. Thank for posting it.)

[incorrect-losers]

any stozier friendship hc's?

looking for a friend

AHHHH OH MY GOODNESS I LOVE THIS QUESTION OK UMM

Stan and Richie 100% created their own language when they were 8 and 9 respectively and have continued using it forever. (It’s mostly used to talk shit about the other losers (Bill))

Stan gets really choked up when under pressure/when all attention’s on him (mostly because of his dad), but Richie is always able to see the signs that Stan’s panicking and derails the entire subject (it’s what he does best). They don’t talk about how that’s why Richie did that but Stan’s always grateful

Richie’s usually the only one that picks up on Stan’s overly complicated jokes (he ended up laughing too hard at a joke Stanley said about Bowers being Pavlov given the way he gets his dogs to drool, the losers thought he was mocking Stan)

Stan carries around a cloth to clean Richie’s glasses, them being dirty doesn’t bother Richie but it drives Stan up the wall

They both did little league together, Stan was really good, meanwhile Richie was in outfield picking daises. Stan ended up making the middle school baseball team. After the whole It debacle he told Richie if he had swung at a ball half as well as he swung at that clown he might’ve actually made it onto the team with him

Richie bought Stan his first puzzle as a joke when they were kids, calling it the lame joke present before giving Stan his real gift. Stan absolutely loved it though, it started his love for puzzles and he ended up glueing and framing it

They do a daily lunch swap because Stan loves Wentworth’s egg salad sandwiches and Richie can’t get enough of Andrea’s famous pasta salad

They’ve always 100% without question not skipping a beat said the other was their best friend when asked. Yes, all the losers are all best friends but Stan and Richie have always been the closest and everyone knew it.

[reddiesworldsblog]

daily reminder day 266: eddie k-tozier is alive and well and right now he’s trying to put something together by only looking at the pictures.

daily reminder day 267: eddie k-tozier is alive and well and right now he’s fucking up his iced pumpkin spice latte and he almost bit richie’s hand off for trying to take a sip of eddie’s drink without asking.

daily reminder day 268: eddie k-tozier is alive and well and right now he’s making richie help him put up all of the halloween decorations because he could really use the extra strength and height and also he just really likes the way richie’s back muscles shift when lifting things….or whatever.

daily reminder day 269: eddie k-tozier is alive and well and right now he’s trying to knit together a sweater for richie as a Christmas gift to him. but it’s seriously failing and it looks like shit. probably because he’s never sewn a damn thing in his life. but it’s the thought that counts which is why he knows richie will wear it anyway. or at least in a box where no one will ever find it. either or.

daily reminder day 270: eddie k-tozier is alive and well and right now he’s eating hot wings and downing them like a champ. meanwhile richie is crying from how hot his wings are and is currently CHUGGING down his 2nd glass of milk. eddie doesn’t mean to laugh, but…

daily reminder day 271: eddie k-tozier is alive and well and right now he’s fallen back into the longtime role of Dr. K. richie somehow managed to sprain his wrist while doing whatever it is that richie toziers do to do that. after eddie finishes wrapping up his wrist, he kisses it per richie’s request; though half-heartedly/jokingly on richie’s part, eddie had rolled his eyes and did it anyway. “thanks, Dr. K,” richie says followed with comically puckering his lips. eddie only rolls his eyes but leans up to kiss him anyway.

daily reminder day 272: eddie k-tozier is alive and well and right now him and richie are taking a late night drive.

daily reminder day 273: eddie k-tozier is alive and well and right now he’s wondering wtf do you think you’re doing??

daily reminder day 274: eddie k-tozier is alive and well and right now he’s working in his shadow work journa- nevermind he just threw it at the wall because it got mad that it was right about something about him.

daily reminder day 275: eddie k-tozier is alive and well and right now he and richie are recreating their first date from when they were teenagers. it had been awkward at first back then despite their many years of friendship, but eddie feels like that was normal. it had made eddie appreciate it more, oddly. their first date included a picnic at the quarry under the stars. and though no quarry in reddies backyard now, they still had a sky full of beautiful stars and sweet kisses shared between them.

daily reminder day 276: eddie k-tozier is alive and well and.

daily reminder day 277: eddie k-tozier is alive and well and right now he’s stress cleaning the kitchen. he has no idea why he’s anxious but he’s this close to pulling up the kitchen tiles and gnawing on them like a fucking beaver….yeah, just come back later.

daily reminder day 278: eddie k-tozier is alive and well and right now he and richie are taking a shower together and singing along to the music they have playing in the bathroom. they do this a lot — sing, laugh, help wash each others backs and hair, etc. y’know, married shit.

daily reminder day 279: eddie k-tozier is alive and well and right now he’s really missing his husband while he’s at work.

[moments-on-film]

I really enjoy watching and analyzing The Bear. On my rewatches, I have noticed and written about numerous themes, connections, lines, acting choices and plot points that weave and connect together in beautiful ways. Rewatching and analyzing often exposes other things as well. Some are a little odd to me, to the point where I made the list below:

Season 1

The Timeline. I’m not going to fully get into this, but the timeline on this show is confusing. I think it’s because they shot the pilot episode in the summer and the rest of S1 and all of S2 in the winter/early spring. I’ll just leave it at that, but for example, how we get from a few months after Michael’s death (February) to his birthday, (in November) over the span of the first 3 episodes doesn’t gel with the dialogue. The prop of the card that shows Michael’s birthday and day he passed is what I am basing the dates on. Was this a props error? The pilot is so clearly summer in Chicago and in the rest of the episodes in S1 it is clearly freezing.

Cigarettes. Throughout S1 snd S2, the cigarettes Carmy smokes vacillate between light cigarettes with white filters, and regular ones with dark beige filters. No one just switches between lights and regulars who seriously smokes, as Carmy does, making it feel like a props mistake.

Chain. Carmen is wearing a complexly different chain necklace in the pilot episode vs the rest of S1 and S2.

Hand washing/double spoon use. The scene where Carmy “washes” his hands at the end of 1x2 is bizarre. He puts soap on them and then dries them off immediately with paper towels without using water again or looking down. It’s the only time we ever see him wash his hands so it really sticks out as abnormal and totally out of character. He’s a smoker and coming from fine dining and there has been/still is a pandemic. He would have washed his hands throughly here to show how much attention to detail his character puts into his work. Michael, by contrast, is seen washing his hands fully in 1x6. Was this an editing error? It might have been. It really took me out of the scene the first time I saw it. After he does this, he uses a spoon to taste something, puts it into his mouth, and then uses that same spoon to move chicken in a pan. I think this was an editing mistake, like maybe they cut out the part where he uses a new spoon, but as is, it makes it look like Carmy doesn’t care about cleanliness, which, after watching him obsessively scrub the kitchen on his hands and knees earlier in the episode, makes no sense.

Possible contamination. Carmy touches his face while making hotdogs in 1x4. Uncle Jimmy is telling a story and he’s laughing and it’s clearly very cold outside, but he wipes at his nose and face and then shakes his hands off over the food he’s prepping. This was one of the very, very few moments to me that felt out of character. Carmy would have reflexes to not contaminate food from his years of service, especially the years under microscope scrutiny from the chef in New York.

Camera is visible. You can see the camera person in 1x8 in the reflection of the glass door when Carmy goes to open the door and get the order from the delivery guy.

Carmy’s fingernails. Throughout S1, and in S2, Carmy’s fingernails are trimmed, buffed, neat and clean. I looked for this in every scene, as it helps us understand his character and how seriously he takes his himself and his craft. It also provides a sharp contrast to Richie (in S1), whose nails are visibly dirty, causing us to distrust him and not take him seriously as someone who should be handling food. However, in arguably the most important moment of S1, when Carmy texts Sydney, and then opens the envelope from Mikey, his thumbnail on his left hand is too long and looks unclean. Actor’s nails fall under the jurisdiction of the makeup department so I’m confused why they didn’t realize there was going to be a major closeup on his hands in this scene and fix them if they were not camera ready. It’s the only time in S1 or S2 his nail looks off and it’s an extreme closeup. I noticed it the first time I watched this scene and it really took me out of the moment. I cringe every time I see that nail. In the next scene when he’s making the spaghetti, this nail is neat and clean again, so to me, the prior scene was a mistake.

Season 2

Lockers. Carmy has switched his locker to the other side of the wall. In S1, his is on the left. In S2, it’s on the right. Usually your locker is YOUR locker. This was odd, but it set up the Sydney/Carmy scene well and maybe Carmy moved to be closer to Mikey’s locker.

Tattoos. You can see the actor Jeremy Allen White’s personal E.Z. tattoo on his arm when he’s in his apartment before he sits in the chair in 2x1. There’s no makeup on it at all. It’s completely visible. This tattoo is not Carmy’s, it’s the actor’s, and I think he has said before that it’s his mother’s initials. This tattoo has always been covered with makeup. I don’t understand how this oversight from the makeup department made the final cut.

Different vs differently. In 1x5, Sydney tells Carmy about her catering company, Sheridan Road. “Not a night goes by that I don’t think about what I could have done different.” In 2x3, Natalie tells Carmy, “I don’t want to be treated any different.” In both instances the word differently should have been used. It’s not proper English otherwise. The characters don’t need to speak perfect English, that’s not the point, but these episodes were written by the same person, so that might be why both characters use the same word.

Area codes. I am so baffled by this, I’m still thinking about it. In the beginning of 2x6, there’s a sign on the wall in Donna’s house with everyone’s name and phone number written on it. On this prop, the name Michael is actually spelled wrong, as “Micheal”. Carmen and Michael’s area codes are both listed as (913). Carmen’s area code is well established as 773, which he literally has tattooed on his arm, and it’s in the script, as he verbally says his phone number to the fridge guy and then Claire in 2x2. Michael’s area code was (847), per the script, via Richie to Uncle Jimmy in 1x4. The (913) area code is for Kansas. I don’t understand why the area codes would be for Kansas and not the ones that we already established were theirs, for Chicago, and the suburbs of Chicago, 5 years before present day in the timeline of The Bear.

Eleven Madison PARK. Richie insults Carmy in 1x1, calling him “Eleven Madison Park dic@&ead.” In the coda to this line in 2x8, Carmy calls Richie “Eleven Madison dic@&ead.” Park should have been part of that line for it to fully connect, as it’s the name of the NYC restaurant where Carmy worked, and he’s saying the line, so it should have been the same here for consistency.

The card from Michael to Carmen “I love you dude. Let it rip” is written differently in S1 and S2. The handwriting doesn’t match. It looks like a different prop.

Left handed staff/actors. In 2x9, Carmy freaks out about the pan station. “These should be on the right side because we are all right handed.” This line of dialogue is not true of the actors on this show. If you watch closely in season 1 and 2, BOTH actors portraying Tina and Ebrahim are actually left handed. The actor playing Manny is left handed, and the actor playing Richie favors his left hand as well. This line should have been cross checked with the various Actor’s actual physicality because it doesn’t really make sense.

Food runners. Why are the food runners not running food in 2x10? They stand in the background most of the time and don’t move, even when Carmy and Sydney are yelling for hands. No one moves when Carmy says he needs hands please for PX table 31, Claire’s table, but three food runners are standing directly behind him and completely ignore him. It’s their first night on the job and Carmy is the Executive Chef and owner. They should have helped run food or not been in the shot because it’s confusing.

I really enjoy analyzing this show, and see and greatly appreciate all of the creativity, energy, effort, talent and passion that has clearly been poured into it by the entire creative team. This post is not meant to do anything other than point out the few moments I noticed that made me pause and say, wait, what?

Are there any others that you noticed?

[bearsinpotatosacks]

Evolved a fic idea yesterday from a simple, Eva’s sick, Richie argues with Carmy and leaves to take care of her anyway fic to a longer one that's making my whumpy heart leap.

Tiff and Frank are out of town for his sister’s wedding. Carmy already didn’t let Richie have this Saturday off because "we have a shift schedule for a reason, you’re off every other Saturday already," so he's dropping her off at a friend's for a sleepover.

He gets a call from the mum at midday saying Eva’s been sick. He races over there to pick her up despite what Carmy says and fully prepares to just drive home but realises he left some of his things in his locker in his panic to leave.

When he gets back, he sets Eva down, goes to get his things, and gets in another argument with Carmy because he's not letting him leave, he doesn’t get why Tiff’s parents can't have her. Richie flips out, telling Carmy that his daughter is infinitely more important to him than this restaurant, that he'd set it on fire to make sure she was okay.

He takes her home, promising to make her Galushki like his grandma made him when he was sick, and tells Carmy he'll see him on Tuesday.

Eva doesn't get better. Richie’s trying hard not to panic, getting her to eat little bits, keep her fluids up even when she throws it up, her fever doesn't break. She's sick in the night, Richie’s reminded of Mikey’s bad nights as he cleans it up, and holds her through nightmares when she sleeps in his bed.

It's only in the morning, when she’d talking to Mikey, and has a rash that doesn't go away when he rolls a glass on it that he gets worried. He's getting up to call her doctor when she slumps on the sofa and starts seizing and he fully freaks out, shaking her, asking her to wake up, please Eva, baby, wake up.

He picks her up, grabs her sleepover bag and some essentials and speeds his way to the hospital where he carries her to the triage nurse trying not to cry and throw up begging her to do something because his baby girls way more sick than he thought.

They check her out, take some bloods, do a throat swab and even do a lumbar puncture that has Richie desperately trying not to cry as Eva cries all the way through. She's started on IV antibiotics and moved to her own room in the ER while they wait for a room in the paediatrics unit.

Richie calls Tiff, she and Frank are on the next flight home. They get the results soon after, she has meningococcal disease, a kind of meningitis. He's confused, she's had all her vaccines. The doctor explains there's a low chance with all vaccines that you get catch the disease, and that if she’s been in a communal space recently she has more of a chance. He mentions how she went to ballet camp recently.

Richie updates the work group chat. They’re all panicked. Eva gets a room and Tiff arrives. Eva gets a scan on her head to see if there’s any damage. There isn't any and they have to go home when visiting hours are over. Richie, 3 Xanax in, has a horrific panic attack when he gets home, and gets no sleep.

The Bear crew show up with food and support, but Richie tells them to keep their distance as it's very contagious. He cries to Tina about how he keeps thinking about how small she was in the bed, how scared she must've been all night alone, about the high mortality rate.

He doesn't go into work for the week she’s in hospital, Carmy forcibly keeps him off anf apologises, he wants to visit but they're limiting contact. They go home, after she has lots of tests to see if there’s any permanent affects. There are none. Eva doesn't like doctors for a long time, Richie hates hospitals but buys a thank you gift for the entire team who looked after her and is terrified to let Eva out of his sight

[fleurmatisse]

Not All Death Scenes are the Same

or, why it’s been five years and i still want to challenge andy muschietti to a duel over the death of eddie kaspbrak

Eddie was always going to die. He’s mirrored to both characters who open the cycle of It on-screen; his death is the tragedy that finally ends It’s cycle for good. But in It Chapter Two his death is not given the same weight as Georgie or Adrian, and it’s not the tragedy it is in the novel. There are a few reasons for this. Let’s start with the setup.

Eddie is an anxious person, but that doesn’t make him a coward. This has been said before, but in both final confrontations with It, he acts when the other Losers are frozen. As a kid, he ignores the voice of his mother when his friends are in trouble; his love for them (and theirs for him) helps him be brave. He may have been the last to agree to fight as an adult, but he followed through. And most importantly, he knew what he was doing when he attacked It, which brings us to the death scenes themselves.

Here is my biggest problem with movie!Eddie’s death: he doesn’t see it coming. He threw the fence post at It, thought he killed It, and ran to Richie, triumphant. When he gets stabbed, it’s through the back. His death is a shock to himself and the audience. No amount of Bill Hader screaming for him will make up for this.

In the novel, Eddie runs at It and sprays It with his inhaler, which he believes with all the power of his childhood belief will hurt It like battery acid. And it does. He wounds It, gets It’s attention, and keeps fighting. His arm ends up in It’s mouth and he sprays more battery acid down It’s throat. He saves Bill and Richie at the cost of his own life, knowing the danger he’s put himself in and doing it anyway because they’re his friends and he’s brave. By taking that away from the scene, you are taking away a core part of his character and cheapening his death. Which unfortunately leads us to…the joke.

This might actually be the most egregious part of his death. I will grant a slight amount of grace to the movie for the fact that it is, in fact, a movie, and conveying the internal machinations of a character is a difficult thing to do in a movie without coming across as cheesy. But why…why did they have him make an “I fucked your mom” joke as his last words, to Richie of all people?

Novel!Eddie has a moment of perfect clarity in which he feels all the impurities leave him, like cleaning a glass so all the light can shine through. He’s dying, but he finds total peace…almost. As Richie cries over him, Eddie touches his cheek. He wants to tell him something. And while he’s thinking it over, he dies.

The first time I read that scene, I cried for the rest of the book. And the movie just makes me angry. Making his last words a joke has none of the impact of an unfinished thought. Refusing to let that moment be serious makes it cheap. The source material is not perfect, but Eddie’s death very nearly is. He was brave and he saved his friends and he wanted to say something. It’s a goddamn tragedy! So let it be tragic.

There are a lot of ways to make a character’s death hit the audience like a truck. And It Chapter Two just does not land the jump. The end.

(PS if you were going to mirror the scene in chapter one with ben and bev, eddie should have kissed richie to get him out of the deadlights. im right, cowards.)

(PPS without audra involved they could have fucking carried him out. you ignore every other aspect of the novel version but keep that? [screams])

[carmenized-onions]

Okay so I loved the last chapter (I was speechless)

The one before this I'd vented in the comments but now I'm like okay fine I'll do it is your asks AHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Black turtleneck, blue pants— To match the stupid fucking Executive Chef’s eyes, or whatever, shut up! The pants are not actually that bright, but you think they’d still pair well with Carmen.

SO CUTE I MEAN 😭

Yeah, fuck it, hard launch this situationship. You toss it over your shoulders. Okay, okay, one last last final fit check. Hm. Yeah, you’ve definitely gotta put the necklace away. You kiss the plastic pendant for good luck, before tucking it under your shirt. Not ready for that story, just yet. You will be, eventually. But you certainly don’t want Carmen to notice and ask about it. Soon, though. You will, soon.

AHHHHYH (CAUSE JACKET) AHHHHHHHH (PENDANT)

Alright, you know it’s not the shoes you’re worried about. Just get out the door, Chip. It’s gonna be fine, Chip. Dinner’s gonna be good, and normal, actually, because two people having their first real one-on-one conversation after their mutual best friend killed himself just under a year ago is historically always super calm and chill and normal, actually. That’s how that works. It’s not gonna be tense, at all.

Not tense at all :)

Syd puts a hand over her mouth, heavy exhale of laughter still escaping through her nose. Schadenfreude.

Okay I laughed for two reasons

1. I love Syd

2. She voices Envy in inside out and they were going to add a character named Schadenfreude who was going to have a German accent and chuckle (of course you know the meaning so I won't explain why chuckle lol)

“Don’t talk about your sex life like it’s a restaurant.” He waves his hand in the air, immediately regretting asking. Listen, it was just the first metaphor on the brain.

RICHIE ITS FUNNY YOU ASKED

Doesn’t make you a fan of the slicked-back hair look, though. That’s what made you yell— Like when a dog or a baby doesn’t recognize their parent. Like when Mikey shaved for the first time after you met him, and you considered him completely unrecognizable. You practically ignored him until some stubble came in. What did he expect?

Good. Mikey with beard >>>>>

Ew slicked back hair

You also just don’t like it. Clean-Shaved Mikey nor Hair-Gel Carmen. The pomade is overpowering your shampoo, and now he doesn’t smell like you. Doesn’t smell like him. His curls are all gone— Man, his pattern was just starting to revive, too. He looks just too clean, too cookie-cutter, too… Someone else. He just doesn’t look like— “No, Bear, you look good— I just— You look— Don’t look like the Carmy I’m used to, is all.”

He doesn't smell like you was so AHHHHGG

Doesn't look like "my carmy"😭

Who are you to tell him what he looks like? You don’t know why, but the energy today is just making you feel like… You’re intruding, you’re stepping in on a space that has nothing to do with you, but that couldn’t be further from the truth, right?

I WAS SO SCARED

“You’re certainly trying—” “You’re fucking this up tremendously.” At least Richie is honest, and usually you are too, but, when it comes to a trainwreck, you’ve gotta tell the train they’re doing a great job. You just can’t bear to let it know it’s on fire.

Yes you do 😭💀😂

When your glass of water starts to overflow, you take the pitcher from Fak’s hand so he can’t keep overpouring it in his fugue state. Jesus Christ, what happened in the kitchen? Who died? Actually, probably don’t joke about that.

Mikey.

Richie looks to you, letting you make the call, here. You look at him and sigh, your plan has been utterly ruined, your speech— Dashed. He adds. “Intermission?”

This is sweet

Carmen stops short of his aggression, when he sees you. You can’t tell if you like that. You’re pretty sure you don’t. What’s that stupid idiom? Mean to the world, good to your girl? Don’t like that. Don’t like two faces. Don’t like the shade on the old sandwiches— Mikey’s sandwiches, either.

I hate the mean to the world good to your girl thing like you can't ever tell who the person is

“Oh.” You take a beat, then remember this is what your job is, “Oh!” You feel around the pockets of your pants. Should’ve expected to bring a screwdriver, at the very least, it’s The Bear. Get with the program. The tools are in your car, to be fair, but for a quick simple check-up—

ITS THE BEAR CARRY A SCREWDRIVER SHIT IS ALWAYS BROKEN 😂

Jealous, is he? Oh, that’s cute. That’s very cute. He’s the one that said he wanted to host— Whatever, no time to tease or bicker, you’re pulling the oven out, trying to lift as much as possible with Syd’s help, to keep from scrapping tile, but it’s inevitable.

I laughed so fucking hard

“I already know what’s wrong with the oven.” You pull out your wallet, flitting through the bill fold with your fingers— You keep band-aids there, in case of emergency, because of course you do. Syd tries to tug her hand away, again. Her blood is rubbing onto your fingers. It’s not a big cut, but it’s enough. You can’t help remember the ye old days of you as teens, hearing about the concept of blood brothers for the first time, and genuinely considering going through with it. Funny what time does. Funny who it brings back.

Microwave expert Tony

“The Miles Morales feels racially targeted.”

I love Syd

“Love you, Inky.” Oh my God. Chippy’s a flashback, Inky is like a history textbook.

This is so so cute

“Love ya, Squid.”

I need a back story!!!!

You should put oven expert on your business cards, when you eventually get to making new business cards. This is like, the third oven fix you’ve done in two weeks? And you just changed a thermocouple a few days ago! It takes you maybe five minutes tops, to switch the old wire for the good one.

GO TONY EXPERT

When you push the stove back against the wall and test the burners— It works, thank God. You might’ve hyped yourself up a little too much before even checking that. Once you do, though, before even saying it’s fixed, Syd violently shakes your left shoulder, as a point of approval. Tina, on your right, slaps you on the back several times as her vow of praise, too. This is like riding a roller-coaster, and not in a good way.  

PRIDE

You nod back, happy. You don’t wait for him to change his mind. You take one quick overview of their wine rack, noting what they do and don’t have, and then you’re off, out the door, to the front of house, to a warzone.

I love this so much (I probably had more thoughts as to why I copied this bit but I think I've forgotten the aggression)

The motherfucker at Booth Twelve sticks out like a sore thumb. There’s something about the aura he radiates, that tells you immediately that it’s him, despite not knowing his face or name. Bet it’s fucking Tony, somehow.

LMAO

He’s doing his best to peer into the kitchen window without being obvious about it, which, he’s currently failing at that. Richie sat his party in a good booth, it’s just the worst booth for a good view of the kitchen. Smart. This guy is an asshole, and it’s clear from his stupid equally punchable looking friends, that he’s doing all of this on purpose.

LOVE RICHIE

The big party, unexpected. The him, unexpected. The asking for a wine menu. He wants you all off guard, he wants Carmen off-guard, he wants Carmen’s breath to hitch, he wants Carmen to sweat, and most importantly, he wants to watch.

No but fr what an asshole

You stand in front of his view, on purpose. “Hi, pleasure to serve you lovely people tonight, I’m—” No shot you’re giving this guy your real name. “—Jack, I’m your sommelier. I heard you wanted to look over a wine menu?”

The Tony to Jack pipeline is real

“Well, actually, we don’t carry a wine menu because we at The Bear believe in a personally curated dining experience.” You don’t miss a beat, you don’t hitch, he hates this and you can tell. “I like to think that I’m your wine menu, flip through me at your leisure.”

THATS SUCH A LINE

Your eyes crinkle, as you do an expert customer service smile. This stupid fucking table laughs at the lukewarm joke, he just smirks, because rich men don’t have time for laughter. So, their cronies do it for them.

I love tony

Oh, that’s the one Carmen made for you, weeks back, you know that one. “Ah, one of my personal favourites. I’d recommend a young Pinot Grigio, maybe a 2006 Gravner?” How the fuck did you remember that? Doesn’t matter. What matters is this motherfucker is not getting under your skin.

YES GO TONY

“We have a fantastic Barolo Brunate to pair with that, Giuseppe Rinaldi 2019.” You have no idea if it’s fantastic. Who fucking cares. It’s expensive, you know that much. You only bothered to review the top rack.

YES AGAIN MAKE THE ASSHOLES SPEND

It does not end there. No, why would it? No, he and his compatriots go about naming every single fucking thing on the menu, asking you to pair it. And not to toot your own horn too much, but this is, really, the one job you feel the most trained to do. All those games with Syd, all those men at Eden’s, all the parts and tools and forty different types of wrenches you have to keep track of and memorized as a repairman— Your brain is trained for this. This isn’t easy for you, sure— But you are maybe more equipped for this than any other person you could possibly think of. Good think you don’t have to think of people, you have to think of wines.

I LOVE HER

But seriously the level of asshole

“I want him dead.”

Truth (let's kill him)

He daps you up, it is difficult to hide your pride. “That’s my fuckin’ Chippy!”

YES MAKE RICH ASSHOLES SPEND MONEY

“You didn’t see it?!” Carmen’s always liked it, when the two of you speak in unison. Carmen hates it, when you and Richie speak in unison. “You’d love it, Carm.”

JELLY

Despite the fact that both of you are just as nice as the other… This fucking guy is absolutely giving Richie more attitude, in comparison to you. You have a feeling the only reason he didn’t shut you down earlier with the menu is because you’re a hostess. Yeuch. Gross man senses are tingling, but maybe it’s just you.

Ew

Richie whispers to you, when you’re walking back to the kitchen, “He’s a fuckin’ creep, eh?”

Yikes 😭😭😭😭 men noticing it

You open the card, flitting vision between the dish, the note, and Carmen. Digesting the recipe he’s written for you and your eyes, only. He knew he wouldn’t have time to explain it verbally, so he wrote it down for you. You could throw up, honestly.

I could cry honestly (I was puking my guts out the night I read this)

…Did you just think love?

NO STOP

You already made your decision, when you saw the plate. When you read the note. When you saw the frantic scribbles at Carmen’s station, loose pieces of paper everywhere, all crumpled. He can’t come up with shit for the man in his head. You already made your decision, when the four other plates showed up on expo for his table, and all that’s left is the surprise dish, for The Man.

I cried so hard PLEASE NO TONY

You will not be eating the most perfect, most complex, most personal, most thoughtful thing anyone has ever made for you. The man out front, the man in Carmen’s head, will.

😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

Syd was, though. She looks like a puppy watching another puppy get kicked. You swallow the feeling down, ignoring her stare. You don’t need to reread the card, it’ll stick in your head, for the rest of your life.

Plus she's got those big eyes so I bet she looks like a puppy 😭

“Lamb saddle, roasted, pink. Aigre-doux eggplant, means sour sweet sauce, with lamb confit, fresh spring garlic, Montmorency sauce— It’s a dark red cherry sauce, topped with cherries and baby basil.”

😭😭😭😭

You wouldn’t know any of the French terms, if they weren’t defined for you in the margins. There’s a parenthetical, next to the lamb— Mentioning that it’s roasted, explaining why saddle is a superior cut of lamb, noting why it’s best served pink— Mentioning that it’s similar to pork. Your favourite. There’re exclamation points next to the cherry additions, because it’s your favourite Italian ice flavour. They need to be emphasized, in the recipe. There’s another parenthetical, next to baby basil, ‘(yours)’. It’s your basil, from your balcony to his, now to his kitchen, now to your plate.

I COULD SOB REALLY

THE BASIL THE CARE

But he is. It hurts, because he is. Carmen is still under him, and so, you, being by his side, are under him too. You know you made the right call, giving the plate up, but the meaning behind it all hurts insurmountably.

😭

“Heard, Chef?” The crowd is confused but they’re not gonna stop you.

I laughed so fucking hard

Syd eyes you, on the sidelines, perplexed. You shrug, “You and Carmen are not the first people that tried to get this fuckin’ kitchen in order, check yourself.”

😂💀

You didn’t do all the French bullshit, but some days at The Beef definitely ran better when they had a former Lead EMT barking at them— With love, though. Always with love. Syd just laughs, shaking her head. It’s a delight, to always be learning new things about you. How overarching your handful of talents are. You really are a Jack of All Trades.

AWESOME

“Just, just kinda… Made fun ‘a—” Richie pauses, clearing his throat. “He made fun of my voice. To his fuckin’ friends. Called me unprofessional, said the suit’s prol— Probably a knock-off— Which, it is, but—”

DON'T BE MEAN TO RICHIE YOU'LL CATCH THESE HANDS

“I’ve been reading her Frog and Toad, almost every night, by the way, Mickey loves it.”

UM??????????

But there’s a handful of film photos with the two of you— Just the two of you— Richie’s in one or two, but it’s mostly just you and Michael. His arm, over your shoulder, in again, most of them. Mikey looks non-plussed in half of them. You’re always holding some sort of cupcake or cake, in all of them, and there’s always a numbered candle, being blown out. There’re a couple different times there’s a One candle, a few Twos, only one Three.

EXPLAIN

Carmen is going to fucking throw up. Why are there multiple ones? One week-iversary? One month-iversary? He has never imagined his brother to be some fucking sap sentimentalist, and it’s making his skin crawl. You dated his fucking brother? He is just a fucking gap filler, he is.

NO NO NO NO NO

I dont believe they dated at all

Max they kissed and it was one of those ewwww type kisses like kissed sure but there were no feelings so laughing it off and continuing to be best friends

You fucking trusted him with your credit score— You loved Mikey enough to ruin your life— You wanted to go under together. That’s what you fucking wrote, isn’t it?

Omg😭

I love mikey so much

Every fear Carmen ever had is more than affirmed. He is here to fill a void, he’s here because his brother isn’t. He is nothing but a series of stories his brother has told you, to you. Nothing but another Berzatto man that you desperately try to rehabilitate and fix and inevitably fail with, because they’re all fucking hopeless, before moving onto the next.

NO NO CARMY NO

Oh, so it’s a fucking Beef thing, too? That’s so fucking cute. It’s so cute, how you’re everywhere, in everything. It’s so goddamn tender how he finds you carved into tables, finds you in filing cabinets, finds you under his booths, finds you in his walk-in, finds you in his shower caddy each morning, finds you on his balcony in a plant pot, finds you in his fridge in a spray bottle, finds you with Syd, finds you with Richie, finds you with Tina, Marcus, Jimmy, Mikey.

😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

Carmen Berzatto doesn't need anyone to ruin his own life except for him. He'll prove it.

CARMY NO WDYM

I do love this--- I will say, i promise I will always remember the context LMAO you don't have to copy the whole paragraph, but it's cute, i just feel bad clogging people's feeds AH

Thank you for being made speechless.

Always love making Tony's fits. Base them on my own, half the time. Turtleneck + palazzo goes HARD dude. Also his eyes or wtv.

Secretpendantsecretpendantsecretpendant

not tense at all.

I did completely forget Ayo voices Envy, but that is very fun in retrospect. Is that movie out yet? Cried like a motherfucker watching the first inside out, if they let me down i'll sue pixar

IF YOU ASK YOU GET AN ANSWER RICHIE!!

Genuinely, watching the S3 trailer and seeing Mikey no Beard just made him fully just Jon Bernthal to me and not the character he's portraying and I went WHAT THE FUCK IS JON BERNTHAL DOING HERE?

Slick back sucks. Burn it. I've gelled my hair back before, it just don't feel good. don't smell good neither DONT SMELL LIKE YOU!! dont look like her carmy!!

I do not think Claire is a great character for Carmen in the first place, but I also do think the way he acts like a completely different fucking person around his partner was SUCH a sign that that shit was not gonna work. NO FAKERS CARM!!!

I said before, I'll say it again, Fak, where are you. Mil for Mil this time bro. SQUARE UP!!!!

.....Microwave? let me make fun of you let me do it it's only fair i'm sorry

Can you tell me they WEREN'T targeted band-aids? Yes I know it's hard to see through the parchment, what's that got to do with anything.

The Squid/Ink backstory is so boring I promise it's essentially the same back story as me and my real life Cyd. You'll see.

Just yelling pride during pride month for the Syd Tina Tony moment did make me think you were decreeing all of them gay. And you know what. Why not.

I would like to state for the record, it's more like Jack to Tony-- Jack's the first nickname she was ever given. It's honestly more like Jack to Inky to Chip to Tony pipeline.... no one cares about this---

I'm glad the lines I intentionally write to be like mid like the flip through me still come off as very cool. Thats nice.

But yes yes yes, tony's a good egg when it comes to biting her tongue around these mfs

If Carmen just saw ratatouille he wouldnt need to be jealous frfr

gross man just dropped! GET HIM!!!

SORRY, YOU DON'T WANT ME TO SAY LOVE IN A ROMANTIC FIC? No problem. Let me just take it out for ya,,,, Ya want a pizza with nothin!!!

I wonder if anyone cried in the literal tears sense, reading this chapter. I don't think I got all the way there, yet. I don't know if that dog is in me or my writing. Though I try.

Syd's got probably the most shattering puppy dog eyes frfr. So much care in that dish. AGAIN THANK YOU LE PAVILLION I STOLE IT FROM THEM

AND THE CROWD GOES CONFUSED!!! But really Tony is a fixer and an emt, I can only imagine how much watching the way Mikey led stressed her the FUCK out she had to take a shift

I DIDN'T DO SHIT TO RICHIE THE GUY DID I JUST WROTE IT MAN OKAY

I will clarify: Frog and Toad, fully Nat saying that in the background. I simply did not make that clear enough apparently lmao.

I will also not explain any of the other stuff, though. TOUGH! (soon though, soon)

GIRL WHAT THE FUCK YOU THINK HE MEANS HE'S GONNA NUKE US ALL !!!!!

thank you for enjoying the chapter <3

[ggengariite]

nvm i don’t care what y’all think

here’s a few i found buried deep in my notes app

- eddie has multiple uses for each of his fanny packs, and specifically has one for when he’s hanging out with all the losers at a sleepover or something and one specifically for richie that has stuff like glasses cleaner, a fidget toy or two, bandaids, etc

- everytime richie gets into trouble (not exactly a fight, because richie canonically doesn’t believe in violence if i remember correct, but if richie says something stupid and gets beat up for it) eddie always has to clean up his wounds for him and PRETENDS he hates it, but he appreciates that richie comes to him when he’s in a more vulnerable state

- richie thinks things through very often, surprisingly. like he’ll specifically plan to hang out with eddie at things like roller rinks because he knows eddie can’t skate which means richie would get to hold his hand the whole time to help him

- eddie would probably be terrified of skating, worried he’s gonna break his neck or his arm or his leg and he has to wear someone else’s shoes and just EW yk- but then he’s also like “but richie will hold my hand 🥺🥺” and even if he eventually gets the hang of it and can definitely do it without richies help he won’t admit it

would y’all get upset if i started posting my random IT headcanons in the year of 2023

not even hyperfixated on it anymore but i still have so many feelings 🥺🥺🥺🥺

[sunshinereddie]

au where richie and eddie are both baristas at the same coffee shop but they work at different times. richie works closing and eddie works opening, and every morning when eddie goes into work he has to clean up the mess of the person who closed the day before because they didn’t clean properly. eddie doesn’t mind at first, but after a week, then a few, he starts to get annoyed. so he leaves a note for the closing staff to clean up their shit properly.

the next morning there’s a reply from the closing staff, something like “well i’m not the biggest fan of how you leave things either but you don’t see me throwing a fit about it.” so for the next few days eddie is exchanging angry notes with the night staff arguing over who is making the bigger mess

after about a week of this, eddie is working when someone comes up to the counter. he doesn’t even have the chance to ask for his order before the guy says to him, “so, are you the one who’s been leaving me those little notes?” eddie stares at him for a moment, trying to register the fact that the really cute guy standing in front of him with cute curly hair and cute big glasses that magnify his cute eyes and a cute smile on his face is the same guy he’s been getting mad at for a month for not putting cups away properly and taking the trash out on time. eddie is immediately embarrassed because out of all the people it could have been why does he have to be hot???!!!

while eddie is still stammering for a response richie laughs and goes “you know, with the way you were getting mad at me i was totally expecting a middle aged mom or a grandma or something but definitely not... you” (richie has to bite back the urge to say “a cute guy like you”) and eddie blushes and replies “well with the way you were leaving the place i had assumed a raccoon had gotten in. didn’t think it was possible for a person to make so much mess.” richie laughs once again, then says that he came to apologize for the mess, that he’ll try harder to keep the cafe clean.

the notes don’t stop, though. often times eddie will come into work and there will be a sticky note on the counter saying “have a good day, eds” or something like that, and eddie finds his heart racing with excitement every time one is there, and his hand shaking slightly as he scribbles a reply.

after a few weeks of flirty friendly note passing, richie comes into his shift and sees, like always, that there’s a sticky note on the counter. he smiles as he picks it up to read it, but his heart skips a beat when his eyes scan a phone number, and then written underneath, “text me what time your break is. i’ll come around, if you want to grab a coffee together. -E”

richie reads and rereads the note a few times, making sure that he understood correctly. was eddie.... asking him out? richie laughed under his breath as he typed eddie’s number into his phone; richie had been planning on asking eddie out for a while now, but looks like eddie beat him to it.

[seecarrun]

I Slipped Away

For as long as Richie could remember, the first and third Saturday mornings of the month in the Tozier household were reserved for chores.

Maggie would open up all the windows, Went would turn on the stereo loud enough to be heard all through the house, and each member of the family would march off in different directions, brandishing brushes, rags, spray bottles, feather dusters, mops, or vacuums, not to return to the central location until their mission was accomplished or to pick up more ammunition.

It horrified Richie as he got older; his parent's vehemence on their Saturday morning chores no matter the fucking circumstance, even when his friends had stayed the night on Friday and got roped into the routine in the morning as well, but the guys always made clear how little they actually minded.

Bill, their fearless leader, always ready to help out whenever he could, Stan, who would honestly clean just for the joy of it, and of course Eddie, who immediately jumped at any and all opportunities to stay over just a little longer than his mother originally insisted, and how could even Sonia Kaspbrak find fault in her sweet boy wanting to help out around his best friend's house?

And so, Richie drags his feet and whines and complains, but completes his chores, and it always goes faster than he expects, so before he knows it, he's being released and tearing through the neighborhood once again.

It's just Eddie over this morning; the sneaky little shit had followed Richie home directly after school, inviting himself to stay for dinner, and ultimately to spend the night as well. He had managed to charm Went and Maggie years ago, so there was no argument on their part, and after a tense phone call to his mom just after curfew about how it would actually be the irresponsible thing to go home now that it had just gotten dark, Eddie was in the clear.

They'd stayed up way too late eating way too much junk food and playing way too violent video games way too loud, a stark difference to the current bright and sunny, airy, Tozier kitchen with Maggie in her eternal battle against the grease stains on the stovetop, and the boys putting away the freshly washed dishes as the radio reminds them all they're listening to WKIT, playing all the best hits of the 70's, 80's, and today!

The advertisement ends and a familiar tune begins, just in time for Went to come bopping into the kitchen, spinning a feather duster between his fingers like a baton and whistling along to the music, a playful glint behind his glasses.

Maggie susses him out immediately, spinning on her heel to point at him threateningly. "Do not," she warns, but Went just keeps dancing over to her without breaking his stride.

"I looked out this morning and the sun was gone," he sings, swaying over to Maggie and brandishing the feather duster like a microphone. "Turned on some muusic to start my day. I lost myself in a familiar sooong. I closed my eeeeyes and I slipped awaaaaay."

"Went," Maggie sighs, the barest hint of a smile creeping onto her lips. Across the kitchen island, both Richie and Eddie giggle as Went turns his feather duster microphone into a guitar and starts strumming along.

"It's more than a feeling!" he cries, making Maggie groan in faux embarrassment.

"More than a feeling!" Richie echos, joining his dad excitedly though his giggles, making Eddie groan out in embarrassment along with Maggie.

"When I hear that old song they used to play," he goes on, unabashedly, and Maggie covers her face to hide her giant, obvious grin and shakes her head, Richie chiming in with all of his perfectly timed and overdramatic More than a feeling!'s right on cue, sending Eddie into absolute hysterics, which was Richie's goal all along.

(Like father, like son.)

"I begin dreaming!"

"More than a feeling!"

"Till I see Maggie-Ann walk awaaaay!" Went belts out, emphasizing the slight name change, just in case Maggie somehow missed him practically screaming it across the kitchen. "I see my Maggie-Ann walkin' awaaaaay..." he croons, sliding up next to her and wiggling his eyebrows.

Maggie attempts to bite the smile right off her lips and fails miserably, gazing up at him, fond and amused. "You are a nut," she tells him, simply. "My middle name isn't even Ann."

"Eh. Po-tay-to, po-tah-to," he chuckles, pecking her once on her bemused lips before shaking the feather duster in Richie's face, causing him to sputter and gag at all the dust, just to get Eddie laughing again, and saunters back out of the room, continuing to play the feather duster like a guitar and singing along to the radio as he disappears out of sight.

Maggie tuts tenderly at the whole event and turns back to the still laughing boys, shaking her head. "These Tozier men are a handful, Eddie dear," she says simply. "Run while you can."

And Richie doesn't have time to think about what the fuck his mom means by that, before Eddie is shrugging, a faint, barely there blush dusting his cheeks, and says, crytpically, "I think I can handle that."

Richie blinks after him, his mouth agape, as Eddie crosses the room to help Maggie with the stove grease.

Eventually, he clears his throat, returning to halfheartedly stacking plates in the cabinets and trying not to dwell too hard about what just happened between his mom and Eddie, no matter what his traitorous heart insists on thinking.

Under his breath, he sings along softly as the song comes to an end, "When I'm tired and thinking cold I hide in my music, forget the day. And dream of a girl I used to know, I closed my eyes and she slipped away..."

[soulwillower]

tozier (vii)

(tozier!reader smut)

requested: okay so once regular requests open, here’s my idea. so the reader and richie are siblings and they absolutely hate each other and to get under his sisters skin, he fucks her best friend. so in sheer anger she decides to fuck all of his

warnings: smut, unprotected sex, dirty talk, also minor violence, bit of blood, sub reader AND dom reader, BOTH baby, light choking, mild mild cumplay, oral (fem recieving) 

part 7 of the tozier series [  i  ii iii  iv v vi ]

guys!! finally the last part, thanks for all the love on this series :) this was rly so so much fun to write for yall, pls let me know how u feel about this/the series in general

(losers and reader are 20+ and in college in this)

4.5k words

♡

"i fucked your friends, anyways." you say with a grin. 

"funny, y/n. as if any of them would settle for you." richie snarls, smirking as if he's proud of what he'd said. it makes you smirk, shaking your head. if only he knew. 

"richie, i don't think she's joking." ben speaks up. everyone's eyes turn to ben, and your heart pounds as you bite your lip. you look at each of the others quickly - ben's gnawing on his lip and looking at richie uncertainly, mike is staring at the ground in thought, eddie's staring at his lap with an amused grin, bev is smirking between the two boys with her eyebrows raised, and bill is looking at ben with a small look of realization.

your eyes land on stan, who's staring back at you intently, a suggestive look on his face as he tugs a small part of your underwear from his front pocket as he thumbs it with his finger. you send him an intent look back, trying to beg him not to do it. 

when you look at richie, he's shocked, mouth agape. "what?" richie says quietly. "you fucked my best friend. it was only fair." you say with a shrug, smiling at him. he looks like he might punch you. 

you stifle a laugh, trying to keep a straight face but failing. richie looks furious as he walks up to you, the two of you standing in the middle of the make-shift circle the losers formed in the living room. 

"which one?" he says through a clenched jaw. 

"all of them."

the room is silent as everyone's jaws drop except yours, bev's, and surprisingly stan's - the latter of whom are smirking. richie looks like he's in utter disbelief. it's silent for a few moments, until someone breaks the quiet. 

"who was the best?" 

you turn bright red at that. 

"shut the fuck up, eddie!" richie yells, no sign of joking on his face; he's red as he stares you down. you don't cower at all in front of him - in fact, you're definitely the one with the most power in this situation, and you smirk. 

"so... a-all of us slept with y/n?" bill says in shock. everyone looks around and you're just smirking, your brother furious. "i can't fucking believe you. this isn't funny at all." richie snips. 

"this isn't any different from what you did, richie. c'mon, it was just some fun. it's not like it meant anything more to any of us." mike says. you're shocked that they're all taking it so well.. you never expected them to find out, but they seem to be on your side. thank god. 

your eyes dart to stan, who's still sat on the couch. he meets your eyes and doesn't back down, his gaze piercing and intense. his eyes course over your figure and you feel a twinge of emotion as you remember his hands on your skin, his lips.... you clear your throat as you look away, hoping to god nobody will notice your lace undies sticking slightly out of stan's pocket. 

"-why are you taking her side?" richie hisses, shoving everyone away. his eyes barely leave yours, his fists clenching down by his sides. 

"because you are in the wrong, richie. you cannot possibly be mad at me for this." you say with a grin. "sorry, you're just overreacting. plus you're not just fucking cecily, now you're actually dating her. which is way more shitty. and clearly they all wanted me, richie. i'm an angel."

bill snorts from where he's standing, "yeah r-rich, you're the one who always says that girls who suck fingers without being told to go to h-heav-"   

richie throws his empty cup towards bill, missing by only an inch as he yells, "can it, denbrough! shut the fuck up!" 

you're bright red from bill's words, looking from him, to richie, and then catching stan's eyes again. you swallow, throat dry. 

"-wait, who was the best?" comes from bev this time. you bite your lip, watching as richie shoves her lightly. you grin, "well, ben was the sweetest, but mike was the most surprising-"  "you better shut the fuck up right now y/n." richie mutters. you shrug, "you talk about cecily all the time to me!" you yell. "plus, i'm not finished. eddie... well, that was the dirtiest." you smirk at him and he grins at the ground, richie moving towards you. you back up swiftly, still talking. "-eddie fucked me in your bed, you know." 

richie shoves you hard, looking the angriest you ever have seen him. everyone else gasps or rushes towards the two of you, but as your back hits the wall near the fireplace you barely wince, laughing. "then there was bev... that was the hottest. you were in the other room." you wink.

bev gives mike knuckles out of the corner of your eye and you almost laugh, watching richie as the others tug him back from you. "y-y/n, stop. we get it, r-richie's gotta calm down." bill says as he holds back richie's seething form. 

you tilt your head, grinning at bill. "what, you don't want richie to know that you have the best dick game?" 

everyone stops, and richie freezes in bills arms. "wh-" bill starts with a cocky smirk, but then richie's wrestling bill to the ground, and your eyes are widening. "richie, knock it off!" bev yells, laughing as richie shoves bill's head and bill just laughs on the ground. 

mike and ben get him off of bill, who's sitting up with a disheveled shirt and smirking. "jesus, richie." stan mutters, still on the couch seemingly unbothered.  

you feel the need to make it worse, just to rub it in. "richie, it's okay. he felt bad at first, fucking me in my bedroom while you were asleep next door-"

"shut up y/n!" richie yells, loud enough that you think the neighbors could have heard. stan laughs from the couch, and richie turns to stare at stan, who's lounging as if nothing's happening, looking entirely amused and unbothered. it’s hot. 

it's quiet for a moment, and it seems like everyone thinks you're done. you mutter, "but stan was the most recent, like ten minutes ago, actually." stan doesn't even really react to your words, he just grins devilishly at richie, dimple popping in his cheek. 

you clench your thighs. 

richie turns to you again. "you're a fucking bitch. you’re so disgusting, it's no wonder you couldn't get any of my friends to want to date you. so you just tried to fuck them all instead. you're embarrassing." richie spits. your eyebrows draw together and you almost quip back but a movement makes you look to your left. stan rises as he states, "richie. shut up." you and richie both look to stan, as do the others. 

"i don't want to hear shit from you, uris. fuck you, i've told you for years to keep your paws off my sister." he spits, and stan tilts his head. 

"she's a grown up, richie. she's not just your sister. if she wants me to go down on her in the backseat of your car, why the hell would i say no?" 

and then richie's swinging at stan, punching him hard in the face.

"richie!"the others call, bill and mike pulling him away and holding him firmly this time, shocked that he really did it. "stan?" you call, moving toward him as he flexes his jaw and holds the side of his face. he stands all the way up and licks his lip, a smear of blood leaking from the fresh split on his lip. richie's shaking his hand, face bright red under his glasses. 

"fuck all of you." richie hisses, turning and shoving eddie and ben out of the way as he grabs his car keys and storms out the front door. 

it's quiet after richie leaves, and everyone decides that he needs cool off time before he comes back or before anyone tries to talk to him. so they then get the message to trail out and head to the basement in groups of two or three until just stan remains. "stan, i'm sorry." you say weakly, offering a hand. he lets you lead him to your bedroom upstairs, silently looking at the ceiling as you re-enter the room with a shitty first aid kit. 

stan is impossible to read as you tear open a wipe to clean around the cut. your hands shake as they rise to his face. "i'm sorry." you whisper, the guilt getting to you.

 you jump a bit as one of his hands lands on the bare skin of the back of your thigh. you meet eyes and stan stares directly at you, "i'd do it again."

you smile shyly, looking down and swiping across his bottom lip to collect the blood. "i never meant for this to happen, i guess. i was just so angry, and i- yeah."

it’s quiet again. 

"when did you and bill fuck?" is all he asks after the silence. you blink at him, thinking. "um... a few weeks ago? when we went to kiera gross's party." 

he hums, his hand still rubbing your bare leg and making you feel weak. his fingertips graze the skin of your ass before moving back down, making you exhale shakily. you feel like you want stan to know that you don't have anything going on with bill - but you're nervous. "i promise, i- god, would you stop fidgeting?" 

your hand grabs his jaw, but he jerks his head away and he tosses you a glare. "i'm fine." he mutters. 

"i don't have to be doing this, i can just go back downstairs." you snap, crossing your arms. 

"yeah, perfect, why don't you go let bill fuck you again?" stan quips. "he was the best, right?" you roll your eyes, shaking your head as you look at his pouty lips. "stan, come on. and tilt your head up." 

it's silent again and stan's staring up above you, avoiding your eyes as you wipe a bit of alcohol over his busted lip. "y'know, i hate to say it, but this is kind of hot." you whisper. 

he stares at you dryly. "you think your brother socking me in the face is hot?" 

you laugh, "no, i think me telling you what to do is. you take directions well." his face blooms light pink at your words and you feel proud. he’s watching you carefully, "really? that's cute coming from you. i seem to remember you begging for me to tell you what to do not even an hour ago." 

you swallow, cheeks going red, but you notice his are too. "maybe you just need to be put in your place, stan." you whisper, leaning forward to capture your lips together. he winces slightly, his busted lip tender against yours, but his hand grips your ass immediately, tugging you towards him. 

you slide onto his lap, straddling him easily. the kiss starts slowly, but quickly heats up when he pulls you down to grind on him, causing you both to let out shaky moans of pleasure. then you gently push his shoulders back, “wanna feel you inside me.” you whisper, noticing his knowing smirk as he lays back, propping himself up on his elbows to watch you. 

you slide back on his lap, undoing his pants and sliding them down his legs. his cock springs up and you bite your lip, hand wrapping around his base. you pump slowly, watching as he bites him lip and tilts his head back. you're filled with desire as you take in his size, desperate to feel him. then you're pressing a kiss to his lips, balancing up on your knees and teasing him against your slit, spreading your wetness. he groans, bucking his hips up but you shush him, kissing him again.

he pulls off your shirt, and you quickly do the same to him, taking in his toned torso. you silently thank whoever made stan so goddamn good at baseball. he groans as you place his hands down and off your body, gently sinking down onto him.

you both let out loud groans, relishing in the feeling of him stretching you out perfectly. his head falls onto the wall behind him as you start to move on top of him, stabling yourself on his chest. “fuck, y/n.” he groans lowly, eyes shut in pleasure. 

he looks so perfect under you and you move yourself quicker, loving how he fills you. one of your hands slips into his hair, pulling and making him groan, his hips stuttering. “stan…” you moan as he places kisses on your neck and chest, moving your hips as you bounce. his teeth nip at your skin, his hands rising to grip your ass, hiking up your skirt. 

leaning forward, you find a new angle and bite your lip to keep from screaming at the feeling. stan's biting his own bruised and split lip, his face flushed and chest heaving. he’s hitting deep inside you and you feel full, moaning as you bounce up and down. you moan into his skin, sucking dark marks up and down to column of his throat, 

you lean to press your hands against his chest, changing the angle again. “fuck.” he mutters and you moan, your legs burning but the pleasure flowing through your body. he all but growls, his head falls against the wall again with a groan of pleasure, his hands raising to your hips and fucking up into you, eyes scrunched. his hips are stuttering and he’s flushed, looking like heaven under you.  "stan," you moan, "you feel so good, fill me up s'good." you whisper, unable to stop yourself as you moan. 

through breaths, he's whispering into your ear. "sorry, who did you say fucked you the best?" he asks as you clench around him. 

"shut up." you whisper into his ear as you bounce on him, your hand rising to his throat.

 his eyes lace shut, screwing with lust as he moans, hands hard on your hips as he fucks you down onto him. you squeeze his throat lightly, feeling him swallow under your palm. your lips meet and he bites down on your lip hard, moaning at the feeling of your hand on his neck. 

"who fucks you this good?" he says, and you can feel his voice vibrate under your palm, his lips in a sexy grin as his eyes flutter shut. "shut up, stan." you say again, "don't make me leave and let you finish yourself off." you whisper in his ear. 

he moans at that as you move your hips, your hand still around his throat. 

his hand rises up your back, palm sliding over your bare skin and then gripping your breasts, starting to thrust up. you moan loudly, forehead falling to his shoulder at the new angle as stan stretches you and hits perfectly deep inside you. your hands fall to his chest, clenching around him as you whimper. 

your legs burn and it's almost like stan can tell, because he's lifting you off him and then swiveling you so that your back falls onto the mattress. he hums, "no, you won't leave." 

you raise your brows as he grabs your legs, pulling you down towards him on the bed. "what makes you think i won’t just get up right now?" you ask. 

but then he's sliding into you, one leg held by his hand and the other behind him. he fills you up and makes your toes curl and your vision cloud in pleasure with one stroke. and then he's thrusting, your whole body bouncing as he pounds into you, hitting your g spot perfectly and making you gasp sharply in pleasure. 

"because," he whispers into the shell of your ear, "nobody can make you cum like i can." 

you let out a shaky breath, the last ounce of dominance gone from your body as he fucks you into the mattress. he slips his thumb into your mouth and you wrap one hand around his forearm, sucking on his thumb and swirling your tongue over the tip of the finger as he stares into your eyes. 

he bites his lip, grinning. "what was it bill said? that girls who suck fingers without having to be told go to heaven?" 

you blush at that as he thrusts into you, and he coos as he slips the finger out of your mouth with a light pop. "yeah, guess he's right. you are my good girl."

and then he's rubbing your clit gently with that thumb, his hips rocking into yours and making your legs shake. you moan loudly, the pleasure making you squeeze your eyes shut. 

he hums, "you'd better be quiet or everyone's going to know who's really your favorite." he whispers cockily against your lips, and your eyes roll back as you moan quietly. 

he smiles at you, other hand smoothing your hair. your eyes fall to the marks from your fingers around his neck, and you get shiver of pleasure knowing the effect you have on him.  "you need me. say it." he whispers against the skin of your chest. 

you let out a strangled, "n-need you, stan... i n-need you." you rush out, feeling dangerously close to your second high of the day. he smiles, kissing you sweetly as he thrusts deeper than before, making you moan into his mouth a low whimper. the aching need is becoming almost unbearable, and you pull him closer to you, clenching around him as you near your high. 

"it’s okay, i need you too, babylove." he whispers into your ear, kissing your hairline as he tugs your leg up more, hitting a different angle. the new sensation pushes you over the edge and you're moaning his name in ecstasy, eyes screwed shut as you pulse around him. you feel euphoric as he rocks you through your orgasm, kissing you softly. 

his name falls from your lips as you hold him tight, your nails leaving small half-moons in his skin. you come down from your high and stan's right behind you, only a few more thrusts until he stills slightly, his breath shake as he props himself above you.

 he pulls out and pumps himself, biting his lip as a bit of blood lingers from the split. you're breathless as he cums in spurts on your stomach, enthralled by the sight of his beauty. "god, y/n." he whispers, the david star charm on his necklace glinting in the light against his bare chest. 

"didn't want to cum inside you." he whispers against your lips, but you pull him closer, "it's okay, i'm on the pill anyways." you whisper. he swallows, sighing in relief as he collapses next to you. "good girl." he whipers breathlessly. you smile into his neck as he pulls you closer to him, your naked limbs warm against each other's bodies. you lay there for a few moments, listening to his rapid heartbeat calm down as he plays with strands of your hair. 

he gets up suddenly, though, and pulls on his own underwear and then pulls your own from his pocket of the pants on the floor. you swallow, watching him as he slowly slides your underwear up your legs slowly. he watches you, too - "did you fake it?" he asks. 

you blink at him. "no, actually." you admit, face red. "never with you." 

he smirks, kissing your bare legs as he makes his way up your thighs. you swallow, heart beating quick. "wh-what are you doing?" you ask. he shrugs, "you look so beautiful when you cum. i want to see it again." 

your throat dries up as you try to swallow to avoid choking at his words, shock coursing through you along with desire. holy fuck. "but your lip-" but he shakes his head, "-don't care." he says, eyes already focusing on your heat. 

"o-okay." you say shakily, "god, please," you add, looking at him as his breath hits you. he watches you as his tongue sticks out, licking a stripe up your pussy before swirling on your stimulated clit, making you gasp in pleasure.

the feeling is sharp and pleasant as he wraps his lips around your clit and sucks lightly, tongue running over your folds. his hands move to hold your thighs as he delves in, your moans quieting as the pleasure increases after already being so overstimulated. 

you're already shaking. his mouth moves on you expertly, his tongue sliding to fuck up into you and making your hips buck, his nose brushing against your clit. you tug on his hair and he groans, sending vibrations through your body that make your toes curl. "stan, f-fuck," you say quietly, whimpering. 

its soft as he looks up at you, his tongue working you so well that within a few minutes, you know you’re already about to cum. your fingers tug his hair hard and then he's reaching to cup your face.

 his thumb presses against your lips and you kiss it softly, making smirk in between your thighs as he kitten licks your clit and draws a gasp from your lips. “stan, oh my god, i’m so close.” you sigh out, overwhelmed by how good you feel, by the pleasure coursing through you and the affection for the boy you’re with.

he just holds you tighter to his face, lapping your juices up and flicking against your clit before sucking, your thighs tightening. “stan, please, i’m gonna-” and but yourself off with a high moan, hand covering your mouth as you hit your high. you cum for the third time on his tongue, your legs shaking as you ride it out, your fingers combing through his curls. you sigh in bliss as you come down from your high, full of affection and need. 

stan rises from between your thighs, pressing a kiss to each before pulling up your lacy underwear and kissing your lips. 

he's wordless as he leaves the room, coming back moments later with a warm washcloth to clean himself off your stomach. you watch him the whole time as he smiles, your handprint fading from his neck. your stomach flutters as you pull on a sweatshirt and press a kiss to his nose. 

but the door opens and shuts from downstairs and you both share a look: now is not the time to test richie. 

stan looks to your window, then back to you, "i'm going to go. it's probably best." 

you pretend not to be disappointed. "y-yeah. makes sense." stan stares at you for a second with a gentle smile before standing and quickly getting dressed the rest of the way. 

you watch silently with an aching heart as he pulls his shirt on, grabbing his shoes and then leaning to kiss you quickly. "hey." he says softly, and you meet his eyes. "i'll... see you soon." 

"okay." you whisper as he slips out your window and down to your roof. 

you don't see stan for almost eight days after that. he doesn't phone the house, the losers don't come by much, stan not at all. richie doesn't speak to you, only in passing and only micro aggressions. it's lonely.

it's almost sunset when the door knocks, and you take your time walking to open it. 

you swing the door open and do a double take as you see the boy standing on your doorstep, hands in his pockets. he looks nervous, but when his eyes catch your figure, his face turns red. 

stanley uris looks devastatingly gorgeous in the dying light of the afternoon. 

"-oh, i thought..." he clears his throat. "i thought richie'd be here." he says, swallowing. you raise your brows, "he's at work right now, actually." you respond, toe drawing circles in the ground. "why did you even try to come and talk to him? he's a nightmare right now, he'd definitely try to beat you up again." you say softly. he chuckles a bit and your heart keels over and surrenders to him. 

stan shrugs, "he's been my best friend since we can remember. it's not as bad as he seems to think, i know we can get through this." 

you nod, heart then deflating as you realize that stan's intending to apologize to richie and beg for him to forgive him - of course friendships are more important than hook-ups, but after last time... and the way stan had stood up for you when richie was being mean... you'd hoped things would be different with him. 

because you think you've loved stan for a long time. 

"anyways, he has to learn to accept that i have feelings for his sister. i'm not going to sacrifice my happiness just because he's acting like a child, or that he's mad that i spend all my time thinking about you." 

your head snaps up to him and your eyes widen, heart soaring at his words. "wh-wait what?" you ask, suddenly shy. "you-" you just smile, not knowing what to say. stan shrugs, as if it's as simple as saying the sky is blue. 

"i think about you all the time, y/n. i like you as more than a friend, more than just a good fuck. i want to be yours, i want you to be mine. always have." 

you smile so big you think your face may split in two. "i think about you too, stan. haven't stopped in a few years. i missed you last week." 

"then can i take you out?" he asks boldly. "promise i'll hold your hand and buy you dinner." 

"he'll kill us." you say, looking into stan's bright honey eyes. they're full of confidence and mischief and you think he's absolutely irresistible. stan's large hand finds purchase on your waist lightly as he smiles, "has that ever really scared you, y/n?" he asks. 

you smile as you take his hand. "of course not." 

he kisses your forehead as you step towards him, his arm pulling you closer and releasing hordes of butterflies in your stomach. "think we should go visit him at work? order a shake with one straw and make out in the corner booth?" stan asks, the light catching the purple and yellow skin of his fading bruise.

you laugh as you walk towards his car, shoving him a bit. "you're an asshole." you say, butterflies rampant. his laugh makes you warm and he leans towards you. "you can say that all you want, but i know you've had a crush on me since we were kids." he teases. 

you roll your eyes. "you're really testing me, uris." 

"it's okay, tozier. i think you're beautiful even when you're mad." he says, pecking you on your nose. "well you better get used to it, i guess." you mutter, and he chuckles a bit as he kisses your forehead. 

"i will never get tired of you, no matter what you do or what your brother thinks." 

tag list: 

@gabiatthedisco @blisshemmings @stenbrozier @sft-core @clownsloveyou @moon-shine-baby @daughter-of-the-stars11 @trashedfortozier @oceandog13 @kait16xo @upamongthestarss @fiantomartell @beverlyparkerr @beauregard-s @diorbubs @leighjaenikhowell @cowbellies @deepestofwaters @psykronium-cube @ruefulposts @letmereid @topper-mostofthepopper-most

© all content belongs to soulwillower 2020. do not modify, repost, or redistribute

[farmhandler]

My Everything

Rated: T

Pairing: Shifty/Richie from “Rockababy”

Word Count: 3k~

Summary: Shifty wants to know why Richie likes taking photos of him so much, and he gets his answer--and much more.

A/N: So this comic by the amazing human being @c2ndy2c1d is just really special. And then I wrote a fic because somebody had to, so please read the comic!! I was so charmed by all the characters, and I cannot resist this kind of nerd/jock/coolkid dynamic so here we are. I got permission to write this, so I hope I don’t butcher their characterizations! I tried to keep my interpretations as true to the comic as I could. Enjoy <3

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“How long do I gotta sit like this?”

“Just a minute!” Richie says. It’s the same thing he said ten minutes ago, and then five minutes before that. He adjusts his camera lens and then poses again, taking another several photos for god knows what reason. “Just don’t move. I need to get the right shot…”

Shifty doesn’t move as promised, but his tail gives the table beside him a solid thwap to show Richie just how thin his patience is starting to run.

“Why do you want these photos anyway? You’ve taken like—thousands already, I swear.” 

“This is the first time I’ve gotten photos with your tail entirely intact.” He snaps another photo. Shifty lets out an explosive sigh and turns his head to give his neck a break. He’s lying on his stomach, ass up in the air, posed to give Richie ‘every valuable angle’ to get all the photos he needs for his research.

Research, research. It’s always about that damn research of his. He’s always makin’ Shifty turn this way and that, exposing every part of himself to Richie’s camera. Shifty can feel his face starting to turn pink, and without a doubt he knows the rest of his skin is sure to follow soon. It’s easier when he’s a human and there’s only so many places that can turn colors.

“I was hoping I could find a remedy to make your tail grow back faster,” Richie says forlornly, lowering his camera. “I’ve still got a lot of work to do.”

“Hey, you’re doing great,” Shifty says. He sits up, ignoring the look on Richie’s face and lifts one leg to his chest to give his arm something to lean on. “You helped make that medicine that took my pain away. That was pretty good.”

“Yeah,” Richie agrees reluctantly, staring down at his camera as if a medical marvel isn’t comparable to fixing Shifty’s tail—which was gonna grow back anyway. “But I wanted to figure this one out. I was so close…”

Shifty shrugs. “You’ve got time. Why worry about one little thing?”

“It’s not little,” Richie says, looking up at him. Even through his huge, nerdy glasses, his eyes burn with a passion that always leaves Shifty feeling strangely breathless. “I want to help you, any way I can.”

“So you’ve said,” Shifty says, off-hand, like his body isn’t changing colors. Richie’s gaze doesn’t shift, and Shifty keeps his eyes down at his feet, ‘cause otherwise he’ll never get the color to go away. “Why do you care so much about taking photos of me anyway? I mean—” While Richie stares at him, Shifty wrestles with his words, suddenly finding it hard to articulate something that’s been running through his mind since this whole thing with Richie started.

“What is it?”

“You’re always taking all these pictures because you think the way I look is—”

“—fascinating,” Richie finishes for him.

“Uh huh. Right, fascinating.” Shifty looks around for the pack of smokes Richie keeps for him and finds it on the shelf behind him. He lights it, once again ignoring Richie’s sharp look. No smoking inside, he’s always saying, but Shifty’s been dying for one for hours, and the rooms got great ventilation. “But let’s be real for a minute—don’t you prefer it when I look human?”

It’s not insecurity that makes Shifty ask the question. Well, not completely. Sure, he sometimes feels insecure about being so different from everyone, but he doesn’t wish he was a human.  Hell no—they’re fragile as hell.

Richie blinks at him. “Why would I want that?”

“Well—” Shifty pauses; stares down at his hand and starts the shift, lifting human fingers for Richie to see. “I don’t know, don’t you like it more? I look like you.”

“But you’re not like me,” Richie points out. Shifty shifts uncomfortably, weighing Richie’s words. The way he says it—it shouldn’t hurt, but it unexpectedly does.

Something in Shifty’s face must give him away, because in the next moment, Richie steps forward, his eyes wide. “And that’s a good thing! You’re not like me, you’re like you. And sure, the Shifty I knew at school and around town is a handsome guy, but I also really like the real you.” At Shifty’s continued silence, he continues. “Would you prefer it if I looked like you?”

“Well, no,” Shifty admits. “You’re a human.”

“Exactly. You’re perfect just the way you are.” Richie walks up to him, even closer now, those damn chocolate brown eyes boring into Shifty and makin’ him turn fucking pink. He can feel it happening because it always does around this guy; he’s the only one that can do this to him as often as he does, and the nerd has the gall to act like he has no idea what he’s doing.

He lifts his hands and cups the sides of Shifty’s face, the warmth of his hands seeping into his skin. The way Richie is looking at him—it’s more observational. Maybe he’d even describe it as clinical. Almost like business as usual, with Richie ignoring his personal space and putting his warm hands all over Shifty, only this time, with the topic of their conversation at hand, Shifty can’t take another second of this one-sided embarrassment.

He shifts, his body morphing and skin swirling until he’s almost entirely human. By the time he’s got his human face on, Richie has realized exactly what kind of position they’re really in. With his eyes still stuck on his, Shifty feels a vicious sense of satisfaction when Richie’s cheeks start to color.

“I—you—”

Shifty lifts his hand up over the back of Richie’s hand—the one that’s still hovering by his face uncertainly. “What was that you were saying about me being handsome?”

Richie’s glasses slip down his nose. He flicks his eyes down, and then the color in his cheeks darkens.

Do I have something on my face? Shifty wonders.

“You’re naked,” Richie squeaks. His hands snap to his face so fast that he basically slaps himself and ends up stumbling back, still trying to cover his eyes from Shifty’s naked form.

Huh, he thinks, looking down at himself. Forgot I was wearing real clothes before.

“Come on, sci-fi, it’s not like you’ve never seen me naked before. I’m naked all the time, in a way.”

“Yeah, but—” Richie turns and peeks out from between his fingers, then whips around again. “That’s different! You’re usually wearing clothes why aren’t you wearing clothes now.”

“They’re usually such a pain that I always morph ‘em, but today I decided, why not try wearing some?” He scratches his chin. “Then I forgot about ‘em.”

Seeing Richie so flustered by his human self when he doesn’t seem to give a damn about a naked alien makes him feel…annoyed isn’t the right world.

“Hey,” Shifty says, stalking up to Richie with his cigarette still in hand. He takes a drag and slides up behind him, wrapping one arm around his waist. Richie jolts with a gasp; Shifty does what he does best and shifts, letting Richie feel the way his body changes, morphing back into his alien self. “You don’t think this part of me is handsome?”

“I’m not answering that question,” Richie says. His ears are red. Shifty feels the oddest urge to bite them.

“Oh, so human me is hot, but not real me.”

“I’m not—you’re not—that’s not what I’m saying!” Richie turns around, fixes his warm eyes on Shifty, and points an accusatory finger at him. “I have to remain impartial. It’s bad enough that you’re all around me at home, being…the way you are—”

Shifty takes a drag. “The way I am?”

“Like that! Just like that. Handsome, cool, mysterious,” Richie starts ticking things off his fingers, to Shifty’s disbelief. “I mean, does smoking even do anything to you? What do your lungs look like?”

“I thought you hated all that stuff?” Shifty asks, ignoring the question.

“Well—” Richie’s flush still hasn’t dissipated. He takes off his glasses and starts cleaning them. “Even I can acknowledge that from an objective standpoint, you’re attractive.”

“You think I’m hot?” Shifty says, meaning it as a tease, but it comes out like a genuine question. Richie looks up at him, all intense as usual, and something in his face shifts.

“Yes,” he admits, face flushed and looking a little shaky on his feet. But his eyes—there’s that glitter; the glamor of intrigue that he always directs at Shifty and anything worth a dime in his mind. “I do.”

Shifty goes to take another drag of his cigarette—he isn’t sure what to say—but his damn hand is shaking and he’s reached the butt end, so he lets his hand fall and stares up at the ceiling instead. “Huh,” he says. “Well, uhm, thanks.”

Richie doesn’t reply; instead, he walks up to Shifty and takes the cigarette butt from his hand and tosses it in the nearby trashcan. He has to reach over to di it, and their fingers brush; it feels electric. Shifty inhales, his heart pounding, and chances a look at Richie.

He’s now staring at him with such an intense look that Shifty wants to laugh. But man—those eyes. Shifty would never say it out loud, but he loves the color of Richie’s eyes. He likes the way he looks at him when he’s taking photos, or when he’s sleepy, or when he’s found something new and exciting to fixate on.

Richie’s hand slides over his. He leans forward, and Shifty leans back on instinct, bracing himself against the desk behind him. He’s so close that Shifty can practically smell the aftershave he uses, even though he’s barely grown a single hair on his chin—

“Richard, dinner’s almost ready!” Richard’s mom calls from the landing leading to Richie’s mini laboratory set up in their basement, cutting straight through the tension and demolishing it.

They separate lightning fast. Shifty morphs into a human (with clothes) on instinct, and Richie’s looking down at the table, his face red.

“Richie? Carrot?” She’ll cycle through all the petnames she can think of if he doesn’t answer soon. “You down there?”

“I’m here!” Richie calls. He glances at Shifty, face full of an unnamed emotion. “I’ll be up soon!”

Once her footsteps fade, he sighs and drags his fingers through his hair. Without his glasses on his face, and with his hair slicked back— Shifty wishes he had something to put in his mouth, keep him from saying something he might regret.

“We had better get up there,” he says lamely, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Before the food gets cold.”

“Yeah, we should…do that.”

They’re quiet for a few minutes, both of them lost in their own thoughts, reluctant to leave this space. Richie’s mom never comes down there, so it’s practically theirs: the two of them. Shifty is still thinking about Richie’s hand on top of his. Humans run so hot, and Richie’s like a furnace running in the high heat of summer.

Goddamn it, he thinks, grinding his teeth. He feels unexpectedly angry, for reasons he can’t explain.

He turns and starts walking towards the stairs, and that’s when he feels Richie take hold of his arm.

“Wait!” Richie cries, stopping him short. “Shifty, wait.”

“What is it, Richie?” he says, without turning. “I’ve got my eyes on your mom’s monthly meatloaf—”

Before he has a chance to say more, Richie grabs him by the labels and yanks him forward, straight onto his mouth. It’s not graceful by any means—Richie’s glasses nearly poke Shifty in the eye, and the angle’s all wrong, but it’s good. Hell, better than good, it’s great.

It’s chase, with no tongue, but Richie pulls away to adjust the angle and nearly trips backwards over his own damn feet, so Shifty ends up being the one to wrap his arms around Richie’s waist and pull him in for another kiss. And another. And then maybe a few more after that, until Richie has his face in his hands again and—god, his mouth is so soft, and his hands are so warm. Shifty could just melt in him. He’s just glad he’s not shifted, ‘cause otherwise he’d be pink up to his eyeballs. Plus, it’s easier to kiss Richie like this.

The series of kisses lasts probably only a minute or so, but it feels like forever. And when they pull away, hell, Shifty’s really glad he’s not shifted, because the look Richie is directing at him could make fireworks light up.

“That was one helluva kiss, Richie,” Shifty manages.

“Your skin,” Richie replies, brushing his thumb across Shifty’s cheek. For a second he’s worried he’s shifted back, or worse—this form now comes in the same shade of pink, too, but when he looks down at himself he can see that speckles of his scales have crept into his skin. They’re probably on his face, just under his eyes.

“Guess I just lost a bit of control for a sec,” Shifty admits, rubbing the back of his neck. Richie’s eyes widen, the look on his face is the same look he gets when he’s filing away important information for later. “Jesus, Richie, not that I’m complaining, but…what was that for?”

“I wanted…well I—I wanted to do that. Kiss you, I mean, even though I’ve never done it before, so it was probably bad—”

Shifty opens his mouth to interrupt and say that it wasn’t, but Richie continues quickly, the flush on his face down to his neck now. Maybe humans can turn completely pink when pressed.

“But I also wanted to say that I’m sorry. Shifty, if I’ve ever made you feel like you’re just a specimen or—or a lab experiment, then that’s not right. You’re more than that.” He takes Shifty’s hand and squeezes, eyes locked on his. “You’re a kind and intelligent and amazing friend, and you’re so beautiful. No matter what form you take.”

Shifty ducks his head. Praise isn’t really his thing; he doesn’t like being the center of that kind of attention, but on the other hand (and literally, he’s holding his hand), Richie has become an important part of his life he’d rather not do without. He likes having him around, even if it’s for his ‘research’.

“Hell,” he says, not sure what else to say. Richie gives Shifty’s hand another squeeze, and the place where they’re touching tingles. Shifty’s heart is still beating fast, and the words he’s been thinking about just slip out of his mouth. “You saying you wanna go steady, or what?”

It’s almost phrased like a joke, and for a minute Shifty wants to take it back, because how is that anyway to ask somebody out? There’s no way Richie would take that and go with it, but when he looks at his face, Richie’s mouth opens, and then his eyes light up.

“Are you seriously asking me?” he asks, and adds hastily after a long pause, “because the answer would be yes. I would. Very much so. If, um, kissing you wasn’t obvious enough.”

“I’m seriously askin’,” Shifty says, then realizes that while Richie gave him a nice little speech, he hasn’t really returned the favor. “You’re a nerd, Richie. There’s no gettin’ around that.”

“Hey—”

“But,” Shifty continues, raising a hand. “That’s how I like you. You’re wicked smart, and you get me, maybe more than anybody else around here. You’re one of my best friends, aside from Buttons, and when you’re in your element you’re pretty damn cool.”

A smile slowly splits across Richie’s face, until he’s grinning from ear to hear. That hand that’s still holding onto Shifty’s tugs him forward. For a second Shifty thinks he might try to kiss him again, but maybe he used up all his confidence when he did it the first time, because all he does is hold his hand and smile.  

Fuck. Shifty clears his throat. “So we gonna eat, or stand here all night?” Not that he would mind.

“Oh! Yeah, my mom’s probably waiting for us. Come on.” Richie pulls him towards the stairs and Shifty goes without protest. They’re still holding hands, and when they reach the ground floor it isn’t until Richie’s mom finds them that he finally let’s go.

“Honey, I’ve been waiting for ages. What were you two doing down there?” She takes in their appearance and the flushed look on Richie’s face. “Carrot, your face is so red. Are you feeling all right?”

Despite the completely innocuous question, Richie’s face makes a complicated expression and he flounders for a response. “Ah— we— I mean I— "

“Science,” Shifty answers smoothly, flinging his arm around Richie’s shoulders. “You know how it is.”

Richie’s mom looks at them, her eyes flicking between the two, and then she claps her hands together. “Oh, don’t I ever! Well, enough science for the night. Let’s eat!”

“Very smooth,” Shifty says to Richie after she’s gone ahead. Richie frowns at him.

“You’re one to talk.” He raises an eyebrow. “’Science?’”

Shifty shrugs. Richie’s frown softens into a soft smile, and before he can metaphorically attack Shifty with his warm eyes, he steals a kiss from Richie’s half-open mouth, grinning when he sputters at him indignantly.

“Come on, sci-fi, meatloaf’s waiting,” he says, letting his hand linger at his lower back, just a while longer.

[reddiesworldsblog]

daily reminder day 240: eddie k-tozier is alive and well and right now he’s laughing his ass off because he just snuck behind richie in the kitchen (who was standing there looking out the window while eating cereal with his back to eddie) and scared the bejesus out of him, making him yell and drop his froot loops on the floor. eddie knows richie is gonna get him back for this, he knew the consequences when he decided to do it, but eddie found that he didn’t care and felt like being a menace. yeah, totally worth richie (playfully or course) chasing him around the house.

daily reminder day 242: eddie k-tozier is alive and well and right now he’s screaming because he really needed a good scream. after hes done he decides to go back to coloring in his adult, anxiety reducing coloring book, his therapists suggestion. the coloring, not the screaming.

daily reminder day 243: eddie k-tozier is alive and well and right now he’s on the phone with richie and close to falling asleep after talking for a few hours. richie’s in another city right now for a big meeting, he won’t be home until the next day. but embarrassingly enough, eddie can’t fall asleep without him. and even though richie isn’t really /there/ with him, he’s at least on the phone and they’ll probably both sleep like that through the night. because frankly, richie can’t go to sleep without his eddie either.

daily reminder day 244: eddie k-tozier is alive and well and right now he’s snug as a bug in a rug in on this much needed rainy day, fluffy blankets pulled to his chin and richie’s big arms wrapped around him and holding him close.

daily reminder day 245: eddie k-tozier is alive and well and right now he and richie are getting high. richie shotguns the smoke into eddie’s mouth and eddie closes the gap between them with a smiley kiss.

daily reminder day 246: eddie k-tozier is alive and well but don’t talk to him right now he’s like really really busy on this work assignment right now (he and richie are making out in his office because richie came to visit him for lunch).

daily reminder day 247: eddie k-tozier is alive and well and right now he’s sipping a glass of wine as he watches richie clean their pool and pretending like he’s not checking his husband out (as if richie doesn’t already know, eddie is anything but subtle).

[bleep-bleep-richie]

part one

part two

He's not panicking.

Just because he knows Eddie had court at 9am and they had plans to talk at lunch, and it's now 7pm and he still hasn't called.

Nope, definitely not panicking.

He isn't pacing the apartment either. No, he's just taking a leisurely stroll back and forth across his living room. There's just nothing good on TV. He isn't panicking, there's no reason to panic.

He had texted him at 1 and, after getting no answer, again at 5. He picks his phone up where he'd thrown it not even five minutes ago face down on the couch. He swipes his way to his messages.

Nothing.

He clicks "💖Edwardo💖" and scrolls through their messages from the last couple days. He sighs and clicks the text box.

Hey, I'm gonna stay up until I hear from you, so call me whenever.

He sends it and throws the phone to the side, collapsing against the back of his sofa. He picks up his laptop, clicks on the video chat app, and stares at the stupid picture Eddie had chosen as his icon. The edge of his mouth lifts in spite of the sick churning in his stomach. "Eddie fucking Kaspbrak," he mumbles with a shake of his head. He's still looking at Eddie's picture when he starts to doze off.

He has no idea how much time has gone by when he's woken up by the sound of a call coming through his computer. His vision's blurry, he pushes his glasses back up on his face, and sees Eddie's smile way too close to the camera. He accepts the call. "What the fuck, man?"

"Richie!" Eddie cries. "Did I wake you? You said you were staying up."

Richie stretches and yawns before picking the laptop up and putting it on his coffee table. "Guess I fell asleep." He narrows his eyes. "Where are you?"

"Out! With Matt!"

Richie wants to ask who the hell Matt is but the camera is on the guy before he gets the chance.

"Look, Matt, it's my boyfriend," he hears Eddie say, "the guy I was telling you about!"

Richie has a moment of disconnect. "Uh," he says cleverly.

Matt leans closer. "Wait, holy shit, you really are Richie Tozier." He grins. "When Eddie said he was dating a celebrity, I didn't believe him."

"Fuck you!"

"Uh, hi?" Richie says. He's still reeling from 'boyfriend' and 'dating.' "Sorry, who are you again?"

Eddie turns the phone back, his face swims into view unsteadily. "My new manager! I hired him last week, he's gonna manage the New York branch when I leave."

"Okay, you're screaming."

"I'm celebrating!" he yells, raising a glass. He knocks it back and drains it to prove his point.

It's loud, Richie can hear the sounds of other people talking and laughing. He guesses they're in a bar. "Can you go outside or something? I can barely hear you."

Eddie's nodding as he gets to his feet. "Shit, yeah, sorry," he says when he swallows. "Matt, I'll be right back."

"Take your time, boss. Nice to meet you, Mr. Tozier!"

Richie makes a face. "Did he just call me Mister Tozier?"

Eddie laughs. He leans against the cool bricks of the building once he gets outside. "Yeah, he's like that."

"So," Richie starts after a beat, "how'd it go?"

"Oh! We found a place!"

"A place?"

"Yeah, an office building," Eddie replies excitedly. "Matt found it on the computer. And! He put up an ad for people to email me their resumes. It was so much easier than I was making it, big shocker there, right."

Richie tilts his head for a second. "That's fantastic, Eds, but what about court?"

"Oh, oh! Richie!" Eddie's smile splits his face. "She signed the papers! She dropped everything she was asking for, a share in the company, all the alimony. She told me on the way out it's because she's already engaged, and all I could think was 'that poor schmuck." He laughs, open and cheerful. Richie doesn't know if he's ever seen him so happy.

"Wow, that's awesome. Congratulations."

Something in his voice must give him away. Eddie's eyes soften and his smile fades. "Oh, Rich, I'm so sorry. I was supposed to call. I was just so excited to get everything done, we worked right through lunch. I'm booking a flight to LA tomorrow. Richie, we're going to he together before the end of the week." His eyes are so bright and happy, Richie wants to drown himself in them.

"That's- Wow, Eds, that's amazing." He pauses. "You're amazing." Eddie's eyes start to water and Richie figures he must be way drunker than he's letting on. "Wait, how are you video chatting from your phone?"

Eddie blinks. "Oh, there's an app for it."

"Yes, I know there's an app for it. How in the hell did you know there was an app for it? The only app you have on your phone is a calculator."

"Matt downloaded it for me. I saw your text and mentioned I needed to call you, so he showed me how to do it."

"That's great," Richie says flatly. "Matt's great."

"Yeah, he really is a whiz at the technology stuff."

"That's what happens when you hire a 20 year old."

"He's 25." He considers Richie a moment. "Wait, what was that?"

"What was what?"

Eddie eyes him. "That tone was hostile and, like, jealous. Are you-"

"I'm definitely not jealous."

Eddie's eyes widen. "You're lying! That's your lying face!"

"I have a lying face?" Richie asks, raising his eyebrows.

"You do, and you're making it right now. Why would you be jealous of Matt?"

"I'm not!" he protests. He sighs. "I dunno, man, it's just like, the most important day of your life and that's who you're celebrating with."

"Richie," Eddie says. His voice is gentle, like trying to coax a wild animal into a cage. It makes Richie want to punch a wall at how ridiculously easy it is for Eddie to turn him to mush. "I would rather celebrate with you than anyone in the world. But, baby, you're not here."

Richie's mind short circuits so hard over the word 'baby' that it takes him a full 30 seconds to process the rest of that sentence. He scoffs a laugh, completely humorless. "Yeah, and whose fault is that?"

Eddie's face crumbles and he looks down and away from the camera, like he's ashamed. Like Richie is embarrassing him.

He instantly feels like a jackass. "I'm sorry, Eds, I'm not trying to rain on your parade. I was just worried, when you didn't call."

"I said I was sorry. I got busy."

"I texted you three times," Richie replies. He feels like a petulant housewife who spent all day cooking a dinner that her husband never came home to eat. He guesses that's exactly how he sounds, too.

Eddie turns his sad eyes on Richie. "I didn't even look at my phone until like fifteen minutes ago. I called as soon as I saw them."

"I know, I know." He shakes his head. "'I'm sorry, 'm being a dick."

Eddie smirks. "Imagine that."

Richie breathes out his nose and wills himself not to be angry. Always understanding, never upset. Always with a joke but never with a complaint. How he's been all year, all his life with Eddie, if he's honest with himself. Never too emotional or serious, just in case it overwhelms. "I'll let you get back. Just let me know when you book your flight, I'll clean the guest room."

"The guest room?" Eddie's face falls. "I have to sleep in my own room? You're that mad that I forgot to call?"

"No, it's not- I just didn't want to assume-"

"Or is it because I'm out with Matt?" Eddie continues like Richie hadn't even spoken. "Because I barely even know him, Rich. I was just in a good mood and we both needed to eat. It doesn't- I don't know if he's even gay."

Richie feels green. "He's cute," he says neutrally. "He's there. You're drunk."

"Richie."

He shakes his head, rubs his palms against the denim on his knees. "I know, I know. I'm being stupid because I miss you and I missed today and I- I'm sorry."

Eddie eyes go big and wistful. "I would never- Rich, I've spent the entire time since I've met him waxing poetic about you. Besides business shit, you're the only thing we've talked about. He's probably getting sick of it, honestly."

The sudden leap of his stomach makes him want to puke. "It's okay, Eds, you don't have to-"

"Richie," Eddie cuts him off. He pulls the phone closer to his face. "Richie, I'm crazy about you. You know, sometimes-" He laughs, blushes, glances away for a second. Richie wants to look at him forever. "Somtimes after we hang up, I jerk off to the memory of the sound of your voice. It's kind of pathetic. I'm completely gone on you, is the point I'm making."

"I-" he stops himself. He'd sworn at least a hundred times over the passed year that he wasn't going to say it until Eddie is in front of him. And he's going to keep that promise. "You're- you're everything, sweetheart. I- You know how I feel about you, don't you, Eddie?"

Eddie's smile is blinding. "Yeah, I think you waiting on me for almost a year while I got my shit together is a pretty big clue."

Richie grins back.

"I have to go settle the tab," Eddie says after a moment.

"You could call me," Richie tells him, "when you get back to your room. Jerk off to my actual voice, instead of the memory. I could say something worth jerking off to."

Pink rises on Eddie's cheekbones and flushes down onto his neck, right where Richie wants to bite him. "Thanks, now I have to go back in there at half mast."

"Oh, you are so very welcome. No need to thank me. The pleasure's all mine, really." The sad thing is, he isn't lying. Nothing gets him going faster than the mere idea that Eddie wants him. The evidence of it, the confession, has him rock hard in his pants already.

"You're insufferable."

"Insatiable, Edward. The word is insatiable."

Eddie rolls his eyes with a chuckle. "I'm going to call you in 45 minutes," he promises.

Richie nods. "I'll have my script ready. The never ending list of things I'd do to corrupt the pure and innocent Eddie Kaspbrak."

"Insufferable!" He pauses, still smiling even though he's griping. "45 minutes."

"I'll be here, Eds." He flushes with the honesty of it. "I'll always be here."

[thoughtfullyyoungduck]

Birthday

Summary: could you do a hs losers x reader where the readers new to town and hates her bday bc each year her past friends and family had always forgotten or did nothing so when richie finds out her bdays coming up he tells the losers and they all plan a special surprise party and richie saves up and gets her something super special and the losers r all like wow he’s never gotten anyone anything like this b4 so she finds out that he likes her or something so it’s like the best bday she’s ever had

Richie bikes swiftly passed you, faster than he usually does, which can only mean he’s trying to surpass you. You barely refrain from flipping him the bird in public, as you too throw your weight into peddling. It’s no use, Richie is more athletic than you by a long shot, and he’s been practicing with Eddie for track. You’ll never be able to catch up with him with no viable effort.

‘You asshole,’ you yell out to him, noticing an elder woman pledging through her yard too late to stop your exclamation. She regards the both of you with malcontent, stabbing her hark too brutally in the soil of her allotment for it to be a coincidence.

‘Not my fault your short legs can’t reach the peddles.’

You growl, lifting up from your saddle to race faster, but Richie sees you do it and does nothing but laugh.

Any other time you might give him hell for it, but today, you are in no mood to indulge in Richie’s escapades.

It’s your birthday, and while for most that equalizes a fun day stacked with presents and cake, to you it stands for a day full of misery.

Your birthday is cursed. And no, that is not you being dramatic. At your ninth birthday, your cake got slammed into floor, therefor ruing the gift your parents had been working on for weeks, and which was their only present.

At age ten, you fell off your brand new bike into a ravine and had to go to the hospital to get eleven stitches. On your fourteenth birthday, you and your parents got into such a huge fight they send you up to your room and forbad you from sneaking down at any point in the day.

There are more examples to back up your claim for the terrible birthdays, but you have tried to desperately block them all out, so you won’t rehash them.

That’s why your so peeved that Richie is forcing you to the quarry.

‘If you could tell me where I’m supposed to be going to bet u could find a short cut and be there faster than you.’

‘Nice try Dora, I’m not telling you anything. It’s a surprise.’

‘Alright, I get two attempts. If I can’t guess where we’re going, I’ll do your homework for a week.’

‘And if you do guess it?’

‘Then you owe me a favor and no matter for what reason I cash it in, you don’t get to complain.’

‘Fine, bring it miss know it all.’ Richie slows down to slide next to you, the wind picking up as the two of you descend down the mountain. His smile is mischievous and cheeky, probably too confident to think you’ll be able to reckon the spot he has in mind.

If only he knew that you had limited the possibilities to two places, the exact amount of guess you were granted.

‘Hm, are we going to the arcade?’ Your first theory is. Richie doesn’t have anything on him right now, except pennies that have been rinkeling inside his pockets the entire bike ride, the only thing he needs to go to the arcade.

Richie smirks, and shakes his head. ‘Try one my dear, may I say that the odds aren’t in your favor right now?’

His impressive ego in the way he taunts you with the right answer fuels your desire to be right. ‘Are we going to the Barrens?’ You sing, smiling wide as Richie’s shrinks.

‘Eh, no?’ He says, but he sounds petulant. ‘Fuck this shit, what gave it away?’

‘A girl never reveals her secrets’, you say covertly, forgetting momentarily about the agitating day. You suspect that might have been Richie’s intention.

It’s not like the Barrens is such a stretch in the first place, the losers and you have made that place your own, but you do hypothesize that he may have planned something special for you.

Your theory turns out to be true, as you can spot a long table at the end of the dirt path you and Richie are currently riding on to get to the clubhouse. The table is stacked with a variety of candies, your favorite, drinks that are sweet enough to rot your teeth, something Richie should be more aware off - having a dad who is a dentist-, and a giant cake with eight candles on. Each one representing a loser.

You say nothing as you approach, in a sneaky way torturing Richie a bit more before revealing that you’re at the verge of tears of this nice gesture. Richie slows down his speed by dragging his shoes along the dirt, glances darting nervously towards your face.

‘I know you said no parties, but how else was I supposed to show off my rocking dance moves?’

‘Do you mean the moves you make that look like you’re dying?’ Stan chides, him and the rest of the losers rolling up behind you two. They’re all walking next to their bikes, and Bill’s hands are smudges with cake residue he somehow missed while cleaning up. They didn’t want to be here before you and ruin the ‘surprise’, but it’s clear everyone has worked hard to organize this for you.

‘Fuck you Stan the man, the color green doesn’t fit you.’

‘Happy’, Bev grounds out, leveling Richie with one look, the way only Bev can, and then address you. ‘Birthday.’ She hugs you despite you still holding your bike, and you let it clatter to the ground with a loud bang.

‘Thanks Bev.’

‘Happy Birthday’, the other losers also call out, because there’s just too many of them for each to wait their turn.

‘We hope you don’t mind we don’t have any presents, we spend basically all of it getting ingredients for the cake, which we had to redo- twice.’

They don’t offer any other explanation about why the cake had to be remade two times, but by Eddie’s scowl you can fill in the blanks.

‘No, honestly, this is already too much.’ It is too much, but their efforts are so kind and heartwarming that you have to bit back a happy squall. No one has ever bothered to organize anything for your birthday, whether it be purchasing a two dollar present or even ordering a cake, but these people that you had met less then a year ago were willing to scramble together all the money they could, just so they could turn your day special. Thank god for moving to Derry.

For the first time in years, your birthday has brought smiles and laughter, and no tears and weeping moods.

‘Nonsense my dearest young lady, this is but a blip on our radar, a speck of dust on the tv, nothing compared too-‘

‘Can we please cut the cake now? Before something else goes wrong with it?’ Eddie glowers, refuting to wait for an affirmative.

‘Don’t forget the candles,’ Ben says as he follows Eddie to the table. You’re about to join them, when a hand on your wrists stops you.

‘Hey, Y/N? You really don’t mind this right? I know you said you didn’t want anything but I know how nice it is be caught off guard with something like this.’ Richie rubs the back of his head as if that makes him see any less anxious. It’s incredible how smart someone can be while simultaneously also being so dense.

‘Richie’, you say as you smile, unable to hide it any longer. ‘It’s amazing, thank you so much. If there is any way I can repay you I’ll do that. I’m really happy with this.’

‘That’s good, not that I was worried about it, who isn’t a fan of everything I do?’

Rolling your eyes only spurs Richie on, but it’s become an automatic response now, you can’t help but do it.

‘Oh, I almost forgot. I did get you another gift. Two actually, if you count my huge dong as one.’

‘Gross Richie, why do you always have to add something sexual to everything?’

‘It’s my game babe, love it or leave it. Anyway, here is the gift if you want it. If you don’t that’s fine too.’

‘Don’t get all shy on me now Rich’, you tease as your bump your arm into his while grabbing the package. ‘I’ve just gotten used to your antics.’

The package isn’t heavy, but it also isn’t light. It’s wrapped in enough layer that you can’t feel what’s inside of it just by holding it, but that was probably Richie’s intention. That or he is simply horrible at wrapping up.

While you carefully peel off each layer, you begin to speculate on what it could be. It could be a gag gift, but Richie looked sincere, and his eyes behind his glasses are magnified in true anticipation, a gag gift wouldn’t illicit that response.

As soon as the final layer is detached, you gasp, armored by the actual gift. It’s a blue bracelet, covered in butterfly pattering. You once mentioned having a similar one as a kid that you loved but lost one day while playing outside and had been sad about for weeks.

You can’t believe Richie had kept it in his mind, and had gone out to look for it.

‘Richie… I don’t even know what to say right now.’ You exclaim, squeezing the bracelet in your hand tightly, a blush covering your face. Richie’s mimics yours. ‘Thank you’, you say while reaching out to him and kissing him on the cheek. Richie face burns a brighter red.

‘Yeah… glad to be of service.’ His mind is ball parks away, and he is left dazed.

‘Come on Y/N, it’s time for you to blow out the candles.’

You go easily, letting your hand linger around Richie’s, deciding mentally that you’ll do it tonight before you go home. Your birthday has already been better than anything you could have imagined, and maybe it has one more miracle left to give. If Richie says yes to your question about going on a date, then this will truly have been the best birthday you have every had. By the love struck expression Richie is walking around with, you have an inkling as to what his response might be.

You blow out your candles, but you don’t need to make a wish. You already have everything you could possibly want.

----

‘Off course that asshole buys her a gift, but never returns the money I loaned him so long ago. I’m not a fucking bank.’

‘I think it’s cute.’

‘No, Eddie is right, I’m also waiting on my refund.’

‘It’s adorable he bought her something, he really can’t hide his crush anymore.’

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

How do you imagine Draco, Harry, Hermione, Ron and Tom look physically in base of what is write in the books??

Tom is described as handsome but I want to see him form your eyes.

Well, a picture paints a thousand words and since I like to think myself something of an artist, I’ll throw those in. (Note that as I’ve never actually sat down to draw Draco, Hermione, or Ron none of those are in any way finished. Same with Harry as I mostly end up drawing the Death variety of him which is, well, something I made up.)

And, I fully expect to offend quite a few people with this. I actually have from time to time when expressing my opinion of what I think these characters look like to reviewers. So... heads up for that.

With that, let’s go.

Draco Malfoy

I never pictured Draco as particularly attractive. The books describe him as having very pinched features and generally having an unpleasant sneer on his face.

I always pictured a Richie Rich type looking kid. Very blonde, great hair cut and clothes, would look okay but that sneer just takes it up to eleven. In Hogwarts I imagine he goes through a gangly period much like everyone else and as an adult looks like some mixture of Lucius and Narcissa (but as those two look weirdly like siblings it makes really no difference).

Harry Potter

The first two are Harry as a child, pre-Hogwarts, and the last is Harry somewhere in the midst of Hogwarts as a teenager.

I always pictured Harry very dweeby looking and not particularly attractive. The glasses certainly don’t help his cause but, in general, I just picture him looking... Well, like the above. Not unattractive, but just very dorky and teenager looking. People have actually gotten upset with me about this, insisting Harry is very attractive.

The square glasses are more of a preference thing. 1) I’m a bit contrary so if everyone else goes with the round glasses I go with the square 2) for me it places him more in his time period. In the 80′s those giant square glasses were all the rage, and probably what Harry would have been wearing. Later in the 90′s the Dursleys are just too cheap to get him new frames.

Hermione Granger

I picture Hermione as not as pretty as Emma Watson but not bad looking either. She could clean up very well but she doesn’t want to for the most part. So you get her ridiculous, out of contorl, hair as well as small things like unkempt eyebrows.

Ron Weasley

If there’s a Wizarding World equivalent of a bowl cut, Ron Weasley and all his brothers have it. Enchanted Scissors, the cheapest pair, and Mrs. Weasley buys them for all her boys (and Ginny until she reached the age of eleven and burst into tears). Otherwise, again, not a super attractive guy, very gangly teenager looking for the most part. Very expressive face, freckles, oversized clothing that’s also always rumpled.

Tom Riddle

I picture Tom Riddle very classically handsome, I tend to use Peter O’Toole as a reference, with very British/refined features. I go for the light eyes because, again, I’m contrary and I got tired of people always describing Tom Riddle with very dark eyes (or else eyes to match Harry’s because that’s a thing I guess).

Misc Thoughts

I personally don’t headcanon POC!versions of the characters, though kudos to those who do, because I just didn’t see it in the source material. It didn’t come up for Hermione or Harry, even with things like SPEW or the general treatment of Harry by the Dursleys, and so to me there’s just not enough evidence to support it being a thing. 

But that’s also not the point of making POC versions of the characters, but oh well.