#the marsh nickname is getting to me I hope you know that. it’s SO funny. Morse. marsh horse

[totaled-drama]

Morse you draw jcu chase ripper and Zee in the saw bathroom please. And the bro moment they had

Morse😭

Fun fact I have never seen a Saw movie before. Not sure what happens in the bathroom in those films but I’m glad these guys got their bonding moment I guess ajdhsjdhsh

[fruitcoops]

Hi!! I was wondering if you could do another fic involving jules and coops together? Just like sweet moments between the three? I loved the baby sitting series you did and could not stop thinking about it❤️❤️ Thank you!!

Yeah, of course! I love writing my boy at any opportunity. SW credit goes to @lumosinlove, but the relatives are my ocs!

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Sirius asked under his breath as Remus finally—finally—appeared from the mass of people.

“It’s fine,” Remus said around a forced smile to a middle-aged man across the yard.

Sirius hid his mouth by pretending to look down at the nearest casserole dish. He didn’t even know what was in it; nobody had bothered with labels, and everyone’s dishes were the same basic florals in different colors. “I love you, Re, and I totally get the whole ‘meet the parents’ thing, but this is a bit much if I’m being honest.”

“Honey.” Remus’ shoulder pressed against his own. “I’m sorry you’re not having a good time, but my Aunt Jen would skin me alive if I didn’t bring the man I’m marrying to the family reunion. We can leave tomorrow if you really hate—oh, no.”

“Remus!” a shrill, excited voice called. Sirius felt his fiancé straighten up as a tall, redheaded woman in star-painted jeans hurried across the grass with three other women in tow. She reached up and gave Remus’ cheeks a squish, then leaned in a planted a lipstick-stamped kiss to his forehead. “How are you, my duckling? Was your flight alright? Make sure you stay away from the salt or else your feet will swell.”

“Hi, Aunt Jen,” Remus said, grimacing a little at her rib-crushing hug. “I’m doing well, and our flight was fine. How are you?”

“Peachy keen,” she assured him. Dark brown eyes lasered in on Sirius half a second later and he felt his fight or flight kick in. “And who are you?”

“Aunt Jen, this is—”

“It was rhetorical, honey,” Jen interrupted with a pat to Remus’ arm as she stepped closer to Sirius and immediately hauled him in for a hug. She was as tall as Remus, but broader in the shoulders and hips; he had never felt so engulfed by someone. It was a strangely enjoyable feeling.

“Aren’t you a handsome one?” the shortest of the group cooed, as if she was talking to a particularly small dog in a purse. “Our Remus always knew how to pick them.”

Remus furrowed his brows. “Aunt Lisa, this is the first boyfriend I’ve—”

“But he’s not just a boyfriend!” Jen trilled, giving Sirius’ cheek a pat. “He’s a fiancé, something I learned from your mother. Not from your father—oh, I gave him a talking-to about that—and not from you, duck.”

Sirius bit back a laugh at the nickname and spared a glance to his left, where Remus had gone pink all the way to his ears. “Sorry.”

“Introduce us!” the shortest insisted, taking the other two by the hands as pulling them forward with an eager smile.

“Everyone, this is Sirius Black, my fiancé.” Remus gestured between them, and the four women beamed at him. “Sirius, this is Aunt Jen, Aunt Lisa, Aunt Allison, and Aunt Mary, my dad’s sisters.”

“It’s lovely to meet you,” Sirius said, holding a hand out.

“No need to be so formal,” the brunette grumbled with a teasing grin. “We have heard so much about you from Lyall. After those damned pictures—”

“Allison,” Jen hissed.

“—after the damned pictures,” Allison repeated with a pointed look. “I was about ready to drive up to Gryffindor myself and give that lousy son of a bitch a piece of my mind—”

“Allison!”

“—but Lyall talked me down and I have been waiting to meet you ever since.” She finished with a soft huff and gave his arm a quick squeeze. “Remus is a lucky boy to have you. It’s very exciting to see you in person at last.”

Sirius’ heart gave a happy little ka-thump and he smiled. “I’m glad to be here. Thank you for having me.”

“He is so polite,” Lisa said to Remus out of the corner of her mouth with a wink and a thumbs-up. “Good choice.”

“You know what I just realized? We haven’t said hello to Jules yet. We’ll see you in a few, yeah?” Without waiting for an official answer, Remus wrapped an arm around Sirius’ waist and practically carried him away from the table. Once they were out of earshot—and the aunts had busied themselves with one of the younger Lupins—Remus relaxed with a slow exhale. “I am…so sorry.”

“For what?”

“I had no idea they were going to corner you like that. I mean, I did, but I was hoping it wouldn’t be for another few hours. They tend to move in a pack at reunions, like sharks. Or wolves.”

“They’re really sweet.”

“They are,” Remus said grudgingly, though Sirius could read the affection dripping off him like his favorite book. “My dad’s the youngest of five, and I was the first nephew. You can imagine how that went.”

“Baby of the baby?”

“Exactly.”

“Can I ask one thing?” Remus nodded, visibly confused, and Sirius found he couldn’t keep his grin down any longer. “Duckling?”

“I hoped you didn’t hear that,” he groaned as they headed toward the kids’ play area beneath a large oak. “Long story short, it involved five-year-old me, a pond, and a sinus infection that made me sound like a duck when I sneezed.”

“Oh my god,” Sirius laughed, earning himself a light elbow to the ribs. “And the name stuck?”

“Considering she was the one that had to stay with me while my folks were working, she could call me whatever the hell she wanted. Please don’t ask her about it unless you want a thirty-minute TED talk about the ins and outs of my sinuses.”

“She’s a doctor?”

“No, she just overshares.”

“Sirius!”

Sirius looked up and saw a herd of small children racing toward them, led by his favorite person under the age of eighteen; Jules crashed into his legs and squeezed him tight around the waist. “Hey, I missed you!”

Jules propped his chin below Sirius’ sternum and stared up at him with the classic hazel-gold eyes that were far more common than Sirius believed before they arrived in the Lupins’ backyard. “I missed you, too! How’s the team? How’s Harry? Is he still super small or did he do that weird thing that babies do where their legs grow and the rest of them still looks normal? How was your flight? Did you have turbulence?”

Sirius thought for a moment. “Good, also good, growing normally, and yes.”

“Sweet! Come play cornhole with us!” Jules grabbed his hand and dragged him along the grass at the closest thing he could manage to a sprint with Sirius’ added weight—the pre-teen years had lent him gangly legs, though he didn’t seem quite sure how to use them yet. He looked more like a foal than a sixth-grader.

“What the hell is cornhole?” Sirius muttered as the flock of kids ran ahead to grab armfuls of beanbags.

Remus grinned. “Something I’m about to kick your ass at.”

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

By the time the sun set, Sirius was exhausted. He had been introduced to dozens of people who looked just enough like Remus to be eerie, as well as plenty who seemed to have been acquired by one Lupin or another over the course of their life. Jules fluctuated between laminating himself to Sirius’ side and disappearing for an hour at a time, only to return more grass-stained and rumpled than ever as he begged Remus to swing him around by the ankles again. His ass had been thoroughly kicked at cornhole and freeze tag; it was a true miracle he hadn’t already passed out into a food coma. For all of his earlier griping, Sirius couldn’t think of a time in recent months when he had been more content.

“You’re a brave soul,” Remus remarked as they sat in the grass together and watched the fireflies wake. Though it was a warm night, it seemed the citronella candles littering the tables were doing their job of chasing off mosquitoes.

Sirius leaned his head on Remus’ shoulder. He smelled like grass and summertime and sunbaked warmth. “Am I?”

“Mhmm. I’m sure most people would have run screaming by now.”

“I like your family.”

A beat of silence passed; Remus rested his temple against the top of Sirius’ head. “I’m really glad to hear that. They’re weird and loud, but I love them.”

“And I love you.”

“Are you saying I’m weird and loud?”

“On occasion.”

“Asshole,” Remus laughed, giving him a nudge that hardly qualified as more than a gentle sway.

“Language, there are eight million kids around.”

“They’re busy.”

Sirius watched as small group run by in a wave of giggles, all clutching mason jars of fireflies with their names written on masking tape. “Thank you again for asking me to come with you.”

“Like I said, Aunt Jen would—”

“Remus.” He fell quiet. Sirius didn’t remember the last time he said Remus’ full name aloud. “Your family loves you so much. They’re everything I ever wanted growing up, and it means the world that you wanted to share them with me. All they want is to see you happy. It was amazing to finally meet them.”

“They really, really love you,” Remus said softly, his voice a little thick. “I had about twenty people tell me how wonderful you are. They all thanked me for bringing you, and not a single one mentioned the celebrity thing. Even my Uncle Jay didn’t say a word about hockey.”

“He was the one in the jersey?”

“I’ve known him for my entire life and I’ve never seen him without one.”

“Huh.” Sirius tucked his face closer to Remus’ neck and let the sound of the bullfrogs in a distant marsh lull him. “What time is it?”

“Almost eleven. The adults will be up for a while, but the kids will start crashing soon.”

Footsteps on the cool grass rustled to their right and Sirius looked up. “Who wants pie?” Aunt Allison singsonged, breaking their quiet bubble with paper plates and utensils. “This one is blackberry, but we have peach, pumpkin, and a few others on the table if you’re still hungry.”

“Just a small piece, please,” Sirius said.

Allison paused and cocked her head, then burst out laughing. “Oh, you’re funny!”

“I am?”

“Don’t fight it,” Remus whispered.

“You are a growing boy,” Allison said as she cut a thick slice and plonked it onto his plate. “And there’s no such thing as too much pie.”

I’m 26, Sirius wanted to say, though he held it in. “Just a small one for me, as well,” Remus said.

“Ha!” Allison snorted. “You’re already too skinny. Eat your pie or you’ll end up a string bean like your father. The NHL might have given you muscle, but it’s useless if you don’t enjoy some of your favorite aunt’s—”

“—woah, hey now—”

“—pie once in a while.” Allison kissed the tops of their heads once both plates were secure and bowing in the middle. “I’m going to make sure the kids aren’t poking around in the river again. Sleep well, you two.”

Sirius stared down at his plate as she wandered away. “I’m honestly going to die if I eat this.”

“Yeah, please don’t make yourself sick on pie. You really don’t have to eat all of that. The aunts and uncles are convinced that none of us are eating properly once we turn eighteen.”

“Really?”

“I wish I was kidding. You’re going to sleep so well tonight, though.”

As if on cue, Sirius stifled a yawn with the back of his hand and cuddled under Remus’ arm again. A familiar shadow bounded over not two seconds later and he barely held down a groan. “Hey, can I join you?”

Remus shrugged. “ ‘course.”

“Sweet.” Jules settled himself across their laps, staring at the sky with his head pillowed on Sirius’ thigh. “Did you have fun? I’m really glad you could come.”

“I had a great time,” Sirius answered honestly. Now please move on so I can take a nap.

“Mom and dad and me got here yesterday, and Aunt Jen kept checking the door for you guys even though she knew you weren’t coming until today. She was worried you wouldn’t like us, I think.”

“That was never an option, Jules.”

“Yeah, I know.” A devilish grin flickered over his face. “Remus is the weirdest of all of us, and if you want to marry him—”

“Get off,” Remus grumbled, shoving Jules’ legs onto the picnic blanket. “You know, you were a lot nicer before you turned eleven. Can I return you and get a new one? I have the receipt somewhere.”

“Nope.”

“That’s all a birth certificate is, right?” Sirius raised his eyebrows. “If you bring it back in good condition, I hear they give you a ten percent discount.”

Jules scowled. “That’s so not true.”

“How do you think I got Regulus?”

“Isn’t it past your bedtime?” Remus asked with a pointed look. “Run along, problem child.”

“Of the two of us, I’m the least problematic.” Despite his words, Jules clambered to his feet and dusted his hands off over Remus’ head. “I’m not the one that got a secret boyfriend and got engaged in a year. I’m so easy. Mom and dad want two of me.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Remus sighed as he stretched out on the blanket. “They had a second kid because they wanted two of me.”

“You’re adopted.”

Remus cracked one eye open in disbelief. “No, I’m not.”

“How do you know?”

“Because—y’know what, go to bed. Or go find the stampede, I think they’re by the river.”

Sirius whistled lowly as Jules scampered off again. “That was impressive. Isn’t your aunt over there?”

“Yep.”

Realization clicked into place. “She’s going to make him go to bed.”

“Yep.”

“You’re brilliant.”

Remus smiled without opening his eyes, and tugged Sirius down by the sleeve to lay next to him. “You’re just figuring that out now?”

The stars were brighter than anywhere Sirius had ever seen; for a moment, he was struck speechless by the endless rivers of sparkling white overhead. He stared until his eyes burned from dryness, then put his head on Remus’ chest and kept on looking. There was no way he could tear his gaze from it. A few shooting stars streaked across the clear sky and he felt his heart skip a beat in pure amazement when he realized there was nothing else he would wish for in that moment. He could listen to Remus’ heartbeat and the sound of his new family talking against a backdrop of the night, relishing in a full belly and cool wind, and simply stay there for as long as he liked.

[jess-rewatches-prodigalson]

Take Your Father to Work Day (S2, E4)

As many people have said: This is one of the STRONGEST Prodigal Son episodes to date. It was incredible. My time-stamped thoughts for this episode are below. 

I reference Malcolm’s mental health and sexual violence in this one. So if that’s going to be a trigger for you, don’t keep reading.

SPOILERS AHEAD:

0:16 - OMG. Destiny’s Child. Whoever is in charge of the soundtrack for this show needs a raise. Or an award. It’s SOO GOOD.

0:18 - How great is this montage of Martin’s prison life too? I mean the insane mundanity of it combined with “Survivor” and Michael Sheen’s incredible acting is some perfect mix between hilarious, captivating, and just brilliant. 

1:06 - I feel so bad for Mr.David. He has to deal with Martin’s theatrics every day. Poor guy looks done in this episode.

1:35 - CAN HECTOR BECOME A BIGGER CHARACTER?! PLEASE. He’s hilarious and I love him. “Bro. You got your ass jumped at Sunday School.”

2:09 - Wait. What? Jerry’s getting released?!? I mean, I understand that he’s no longer in need of psychiatric care......but he still killed someone. Shouldn’t he just be getting transferred to a different prison?

2:25 - Does Jerry have a death wish?!?! He’s talking about being released in a room full of jealous murderers. Everyone looks sooooo pissed at Jerry. 

2:54 - Martin is such a liar. However - Michael Sheen’s performance is astoundingly good. Like he shines brighter than usual in this episode. 

 3:17 - Poor Malcolm. “What’s going on?” Poor boy looks terrified. 

3:23 - I love everything about this scene. I love how freaked out Malcolm is. I love you extra Jessica is. BUT HANS. Holy shit. I want Hans in every episode. He’s crazy in a good way and such a beautiful comedic relief. 

3:30 - OMG.  “Skinny milennial” might be the best thing anyone has ever called Malcolm. Someone please tell JT and Dani - hell, even Gil. They would tease him forever and I want to see it. 

3:45 - 1) Malcolm is a terrible liar. 2) Jessica knows he’s lying. 3) This story about the wine is interesting. I wonder when and how Malcolm first told Jessica the story. Was it the same night? AND HOW DID ENDICOTT’S BODY END UP IN ESTONIA?!? I WANT MORE INFORMATION ABOUT THAT NIGHT. 

3:54 - “Ainsley and I came back from the hospital after Gil’s stabbing.”....we never saw Ainsley at the hospital. Was she there and left before Malcolm got there? Or is this a plot hole I need to ignore?

4:05 - The way that the flashbacks of Endicott’s murder is spliced into this scene with Malcolm’s cover story is so perfectly executed. It’s so captivating and so so well done.

4:14 - Malcolm’s eyes look quite manic during the retelling of this story. Poor guy is desperate to have everyone believe the story. Poor guy probably wants to convince himself that the story is true. 

4:16 - Wait. What? Ainsley has always been clumsy? .....interesting. I’ve seen no evidence of it but I’ll believe it for the sake of the plot. 

4:23 - “At least one of you has a soul.” Holy shit.  hahaha Hans is brutal. I love him so much. I also love how this line makes me, as a viewer, think “does that mean the writers want me to think that Ainsley doesn’t have a soul?” ...or more likely that she doesn’t feel emotion (which can be interpreted as a lack of a soul). That she’s a psychopath like Martin?

4:27 - OMG. Jessica loves Hans. He speaks to her dramatic rich woman soul. So entertaining. 

4:30 - Poor. Malcolm. This boy is always in some sort of emotional turmoil. For once I wish he was happy (but also I love the emotional whump so if that could continue that would be great). 

4:44 - “It’s so much more than that.” *chef’s kiss* comedic genius.  I would watch a whole episode of Mr.David making fun of Martin. But can we all just take a minute to appreciate that Martin doesn’t seem bothered at all that Mr.David is basically verbally telling him that he sucks? It’s almost like Martin thinks they’re friends?

4:50 - Martin is strangely chill talking to Mr.David in this scene. It’s a little off-putting. He almost seems normal. He’s not putting on his usual theatrics or ranting about doctor stuff. It makes you wonder how many different sides of Martin that Mr.David has witnessed. 

5:01 - “Oh no. Not Jerry.” LMAO. HOLY SHIT. Michael Sheen needs an Emmy. His delivery of that line might be the funniest thing this show has ever given us. hahahahaha

5:29 - Damn. This is not Gil’s month. First Jessica dumps him. Then he has to deal with Martin Whitly in the flesh. That plus the on-going drama of worrying about Malcolm’s mental health and the stress of reintegrating into work after a STAB WOUND.

5:31 - Gil’s face. hahahahaha he’s like, “Kill me. This can’t be happening. I hate everything. I wish the ground would open up and swallow me whole.”

5:37 - “Yeah. Why’d you do it?” GIL. OMG. I’m so proud of Gil for dissing Martin to his face. BUT ALSO I worry that that’s going to give Martin more of a reason to hate Gil. I’m genuinely scared that the writers have Martin escaping as the pre-finale episode and Martin trying to kill Gil as the finale. Maybe Gil shows up trying to save Malcolm, AInsley, and Jessica (whom Martin is trying to abduct or hurt or something) idk I just feel like it’s going to be a likely subplot somewhere. I don’t want an attempt on Gil’s life to become a season finale tradition. 

5:56 - Ew. “Gilly” That is a terrible nickname. I think I threw up a little. 

6:00 - Damn. I love this scene. I could watch Martin and Gil pretending to be civil to each other for years. So entertaining. 

6:29 - hahahahaha OMG. Gil’s reaction to Martin saying, “Thank you” PLUS Edrisa’s sudden excitement at realizing she’s 10 ft away from Malcolm’s Dad - a medical legend, is magical.

6:35 - Not gonna lie. When Edrisa said, “Ok. I’m gonna play it cool.” I had to pause my TV and walk away to calm down. I was experiencing a mixture of second hand embarrassment for Edrisa’s inevitable behaviour, excitement for what is to come, and fear that Martin would be a jerk to our precious Edrisa. 

6:44 - Edrisa and Martin interacting was everything I’d hoped. It was strange, funny, sweet, and disturbing at the same time. The sweet, eccentric girl who attends cuddle parties is getting buddy-buddy with a literal serial killer. Hilarious. Even better is Gil’s background reactions as he desperately tries to keep Edrisa away from the psychopath. hahaha <3 

7:12 - Gil is currently living in a nightmare. hahahahaha 

7:47 - I love this. I love how Malcolm and Ainsley interact. Malcolm is such a good big brother. IDK something about these two adult siblings chilling on a couch and warning each other about Mom’s current rampage reminds me of myself and my younger brother. <3 Warms my cold dead heart. <3 PLUS has anyone else noticed that (as long as Ainsley isn’t hounding Malcolm about a story or airing out his mental health diagnoses like the bs from Q&A) Malcolm is extremely calm around Ainsley. Like maybe the calmest we’ve ever seen him?

8:20 - “Oh Ainsley, that’s a horrible idea.” This is adorable. Malcolm is totally acting like Ainsley’s surrogate dad. He’s trying so hard to protect her. <3 

8:42 - There’s something about the way that Malcolm says, “Hey Gil” that makes my heart swell. Idk why. I just their father/son relationship. So much. And it makes me so happy to see Malcolm having semi-normal interactions with people in general. 

8:48 - This. Is. The. Funniest. Episode. Of. Prodigal. Son. To. Date. Holy shit. The comical dread on Malcolm’s face. Martin’s glee on the phone. Gil’s general “done with life” body language. Ainsley’s utter joy at her luck. MALCOLM DRAINING THE ALKA-SELTZER. Ainsley saying “chug chug”. So perfect. 

9:27 - Is it just me or has Jessica been showing way more concern for her children’s well-being this season? At first I thought it was because she was so happy with Gil....but that’s not a thing anymore (because Jessica is a MORON - seriously if this show gets cancelled before Gil and Jessica are living happily ever after I will riot) so now Idk. 

10:02 - EDRISA WHY DID YOU NOT TELL GIL AND MALCOLM THAT THE SURGEON WAS ON THE PHONE?!? For a hot second, poor Malcolm looks like he thinks he’s hallucinating. 

10:40 - Gil hanging up on Martin and then telling Edrisa that she needs to make new friends is everything. It’s vicious. Gil looks absolutely furious in this scene and I love it. 

11:07 - Yo. Edrisa’s got some baggage. hahaha Malcolm looks soooo uncomfortable with her outburst.

11:18 - I would pay good money to watch Martin and Gil have a pissing match in front of Malcolm every episode. It’s amazing. They’re constantly trying to one-up each other. The tension is palatable. And someone Malcolm is the only one acting like a mature, working adult. Malcolm. My mentally unstable, skinny millennial. 

11:34 - OH SHIT. Martin did not just bring Jessica into this. Oh SNAP. Does Martin know that Jessica dumped Gil?!? 

11:56 - “I’m going to need a little more than that.” Damn. Malcolm looks pissed here. Pretty sure he hates that Martin just brought up Gil/Jessica. Malcolm’s bio-dad and real dad are fighting and it’s very clear that Malcolm is on Gil’s side.

12:17 - The look that Gil and Malcolm share here is perfect. I love it so much. You can see how annoyed they both are, how much they hate that they need Martin on this case, how much neither of them want Martin’s help. <3 

12:23 - SOMEONE GIVE GIL A MEDAL. This man just grit his teeth, smiled, and let MARTIN WHITLY - the man who tried to KILL HIM work on his case. Why? Because Malcolm silently asked him to. Because Gil loves Malcolm and knows that it’s better for Martin to work with them officially than for Malcolm to work with Martin in secret. At least this way he can look out for Malcolm. 

12:42 - “It’s taken Dr. Marsh years...” soooo was Dr. Marsh the name of the Asian doctor leading group therapy last season? Is this just a new actor, same character scenario? OR am I supposed to forget that Asian doctor existed last season? 

13:04 - I can’t tell if Gil hates this whole “father-son in group therapy idea”. He looks kind of like he hates it (although he is looking at Martin in the shot). I’m inclined to think that Gil is worried. He doesn’t like how nice Martin is acting toward Malcolm. He doesn’t want Malcolm to get hurt again. BUT I also think there’s probably a part of Gil that thinks group therapy might be beneficial for Malcolm’s mental health? I mean it was only ever going to be terrible or amazing. Nothing in between. 

13:12 - “They hate you don’t they?” GIL BRINGING THE FIRE. hahahaha angry Gil is really funny.

13:43 - OH HELL YES. More Hector. <3

13:46 - hahaha YES. Hector this is Malcolm - the son. You know, the one you had to role-play? hahaha I feel like Hector is a really cool dude (aside from the murder). 

13:53 - Damn. Hector pays attention in group. He has a lot of info about Malcolm. I would’ve thought the other inmates would just tune Martin out when he starts his monologues. 

13:59 - “He’s got a thing with hands?” hahahaha OMG. How did I never connect the hand thing. DOES Malcolm have a thing with hands? ....I kind of want that to be cannon?

14:00 - “You’re crazier than me.”  Ouch. That must’ve hurt. Think about it - Malcolm is ridden with guilt about Endicott. He’s haunted by what he experienced as a kid and by what his father is. Malcolm believes he’s broken beyond repair. On some level Malcolm thinks he’s crazy. Now a literal killer just told him he’s crazy. That just affirms what Malcolm already believes about himself. :( PLUS right after Hector tells Malcolm that he’s crazy - the camera pans to Martin. MARTIN looks scared. Martin is losing control of the situation and he doesn’t like it. Martin knows on some level that he ruined Malcolm’s mental health. He almost looks a little guilty?

14:31 - FINALLY. We have a cannon occurrence of someone calling Malcolm “Mal” (or “Malc” if you’re going by HULU’s subtitles?). I hope the writers start having people call Malcolm by Mal/Malc more often. 

14:35 - I can’t ignore it anymore.  DID HECTOR HAVE THAT SCAR ON HIS FACE LAST SEASON?!? I DON’T REMEMBER IT. 

14:38 - YES YES. Malcolm looks angry. I LOVE IT. Scream at him Malcolm! Give him hell!

15:03 - Yikes. Malcolm sounds like he’s about to cry here. :( My heart breaks for him. .....I wonder if this is the first time Martin has ever heard how much pain he caused Malcolm straight from Malcolm? Martin looks hella uncomfortable here. 

15:25 - The inmates (literal murderers) empathizing with Malcolm is twisted, beautiful, and haunting. These guys understand how much it sucks to hang out with Martin. These guys can see the real pain in Malcolm’s expression. They know he isn’t lying. Part of me honestly wonders if one of them is going to try and hurt Martin for Malcolm. They looked pissed enough by the end of the conversation that I kind of believe they might. 

16:00 - Malcolm is not acting here. For once he’s not projecting his problems onto potential suspects. He’s just venting to suspects. No pretence. I love it. BUT 100% of me wants to know where Gil is during this session. Is Gil listening? Is the session being recorded for evidence? There’s no way Gil (or Dani) wouldn’t confront Malcolm about this. Even if they just asked him if he’s okay. 

16:10 - hahahaha look at Doctor Marsh. He’s like “ooookkkkkaaaayyyy. I’m a psychiatrist in a psychiatric facility for people who have committed violent crimes. BUT THIS IS THE NUTTIEST THING I’VE EVER SEEN.”

16:12 - Look at the way Martin narrows his eyes. He’s trying to figure out if Malcolm is acting. He’s finally realizing that Malcolm truly hates what Martin subjected him to as a child. I honestly think this interaction will cause Martin to shift his “become a murderer like me” agenda from Malcolm to Ainsley. He’s finally seen the depth of Malcolm’s hatred and pain and knows deep down that Malcolm will never turn into a serial killer. But there’s still hope for Ainsley. That’s not to say that Martin won’t stop gaslighting Malcolm - he totally will.

17:10 - Martin has been at Claremont for 20 YEARS. How is it that he didn’t know a gold card existed?!?

17:21 - I honestly thought Marsh was going to get shanked. For the gold card. No other reason. 

18:07 - It’s not supposed to be funny but Burt freaking out and punching Marsh is HYSTERICAL. hahahahaha

18:10 - That guard who pushed Malcolm out of the room and into a safe area? He’s in my good books. Every time I watch him push Malcolm to safety I want to give him a hug. Just for doing his job. What the hell is wrong with me?!?

18:18 - UGH. I hate that creepy, satisfied look that Martin gives Malcolm. It’s the same look he gave baby Malcolm in the pilot. It’s the “we’re the same” look and it clearly bothers Malcolm. :( 

18:26 - Oh look. 18 minutes into the episode and we finally have a Dani appearance!! annnnnnd no mention of JT. I mean, I get it. He’s on paternity leave. I’m happy for him. BUT TWO EPISODES WITHOUT A JT APPEARANCE IS TORTURE. At least give me a throw away line about how happy JT is or about the baby!?? Honestly - it’s my biggest gripe with this episode. 

18:56 - soooo either Dr. Marsh is a terrible psychiatrist OR you can’t “cure” murderers. 

19:08 - The NYPD knows that Martin cured Jerry?!? HOW? Did Mr. David get Martin to admit to shocking him? Did Mr. David tell the police?!? I don’t remember Martin telling Malcolm. I specifically remember Malcolm saying, “I don’t want to know”

20:02 - Damn. I want Ainsley to go dark so badly. I want to see how badly it would destroy Malcolm and Jessica. I am evil. 

20:52 - Malcolm’s burgundy jacket is gorgeous. That is all.

21:10 - Malcolm knows that Martin wants to escape. This is good. I love this. 

21:55 - THERE’S A WOMENS WARD?!? REVOLUTIONARY INFORMATION. I THOUGHT THEY HAD A SEPARATE HOSPITAL. 

22:00 - Oh wow. Finally - a perk to gender inequality. 

22:52 - This Brightwell scene is so cute. I love watching Malcolm be excited about solving the crime. I love watching Dani gently tease him about how weird he is. I love watching them subtly flirt. Is Malcolm ready for another relationship - hell no. Do I think Dani has forgiven him - not totally. If they got together now it would end badly. But I do want them to be endgame. 

23:11 - Andre is really suspicious throughout this whole scene. I’m convinced that if Dani and Malcolm weren’t too busy flirting Andre would’ve become a suspect really fast. 

23:15 - Why do people get released from psychiatric prisons?!? This is a genuine question. I would’ve thought that everyone in Claremont has committed some seriously heinous crimes and only a very small portion of them are actually sick. The rest of them just pleaded insanity and had good lawyers. But even if they are/were sick. I don’t think the types of mental illnesses that drive people to murder and/or rape is something that can be cured.  Sooo why are they getting released? I guess I just wonder because there’s this guy that’s been in my local news on and off for like 10+ years. He’s molested/raped many young women between the ages of about 16-25. He’s been arrested and released multiple times. He keeps getting released to different major cities in my province (usually a city with a big University) and reoffends within 6 months of being released. Most recently he was arrested last month after being released in October 2020. Clearly he’s going to keep reoffending - so why does he keep getting released? I guess I just don’t understand what the criteria are that allow an inmate who has committed that sort of crime to be released. Here’s a link to one of the more recent news stories if you’re interested: https://vancouverisland.ctvnews.ca/police-warn-of-high-risk-sex-offender-moving-to-victoria-1.5149264

23:23 - hahaha Andre is like, “Yo. This dude is freaky.”

24:15 - Look at how proud Malcolm is of his whole “lobster = murderer” profile. <3 So freaking precious. <3 and Dani looks so amused with him.  <3

24:37 - Sooooo Mr. David isn’t listening to this conversation? He left the room?

24:40 - Jessica going to Martin for parenting help is terrifying. This is a woman in crisis. 

25:20 - But Jessica was right to be paranoid in 97′. She wasn’t being cheated on romantically but her husband was murdering people. 

25:24 - Martin is so selling his kids out here. He knows it. He doesn’t care. He’s having too much fun torturing Jessica. He’s rejoicing at the fact that he gets to play the “I turned the kids to the dark side” card. 

26:40 - Poor Jessica. She looks suspicious and scared. Scared that she raised a killer even though she tried desperately to prevent that very behaviour. 

26:56 - Damn. Martin is having a really good day. First he gets to annoy Gil Arroyo in the flesh. Then Edrisa talks medical with him. Then he gets to work with Malcolm. THEN his ex-wife calls him and he gets to toy with her mind. THEN his daughter, who has literally murdered someone comes to visit him. He is a proud Dad right here and he’s having an amazing day. 

28:00 - Rhonda is terrifying. This girl has perfected the “I’m sweet and unthreatening” while lying and manipulating people. I swear she’s a teenage Queen B personality with a side of violence. 

28:30 - I love how protective Malcolm is of Ainsley. Look how positively livid he is that Marin is talking to her. Malcolm is terrified that Martin is going to purposefully and successfully turn Ainsley into a serial killer. Malcolm doesn’t want to lose his sister. He doesn’t want Jessica to lose her ‘stable’ child.

29:09 - This scares me. This is the kind of Ainsley behaviour from last season that made me believe she is the Whitly child most like Martin. Her ruthlessness and lack of a conscience when it comes to looking for a news story is extremely upsetting. 

30:11 - What the hell happened to Tevin? AND WATKINS?!? We got no closure on those guys. Are they dead? In prison? Is Tevin still in Claremont? Were they transferred to facilities outside of New York State?

30:28 - Malcolm yelling at Martin is perfect. *chef’s kiss* Finally this boy is being honest with his father and he isn’t holding back. 

30:40 - Michael Sheen is an incredible actor. This is an Emmy worthy scene. By Sheen AND Payne.

30:48 - I love how you can see Mr. David just chilling. Sitting outside the door and staring across the hall during this scene. It’s just....can’t he hear the screaming?!? Is he just like, “I can’t take anymore of this today. Not my circus and not my monkeys.”

30:55 - Soooooo this is Martin showing his true colours. There’s definitely a part of Martin that hates Malcolm. I honestly wonder if that part of Martin actively tries/tried to emotionally torture Malcolm now and throughout his childhood. 

31:00 - “And your mother. And you ruined HeR!!!”....does this mean Martin was trying to make Ainsley a serial killer? Maybe after the camping trip when he realized Malcolm was too “weak” to kill anyone? Is this Martin saying that Ainsley is ruined because she didn’t become a serial killer? Or that Ainsley is ruined because she killed Endicott?

31:05 - “But that’s not me.” hahaha OMG. Michael Sheen just flipped between two personalities like nobody’s business. Respect.

31:08 - Martin’s outburst hurt Malcolm. Badly. You can see it all over his face. Even now, when Malcolm is being strong and showing some backbone to Martin, Martin can wound Malcolm with a single phrase. :( 

31:41 - soooo where has Gil been for the past 10 minutes of this episode?

32:02 - Sooooo did Andre kill Jerry for Rhonda? Or did he just know about the murder and keep quiet for Rhonda? Or is his oblivious to the fact that Rhonda killed Jerry? I’m honestly confused here. 

32:20 - Holy shit. Rhonda is crazy. Andre is dead now. Right?

32:48 - Wait. Why did Andre have a gold card? Mr. David only has red. What kind of qualifications does a guard need to get a gold card vs blue, green, or red?!?!

32:55 - Claremont isn’t a punishment for Martin. Solitary is. Martin should live in solitary. He deserves to suffer for his crimes (and the ongoing torture of his son). 

33:05 - How messed up is it that Mr. David’s job is to protect a serial killer? I don’t think I’m brave enough to do something like that. I also don’t know if I could do that for moral reasons. 

33:14 - Damn. That elevator looks like it hasn’t been cleaned since it was installed. It’s sooo much nastier than the hallway outside of the elevator. 

33:50 - Sooo does this mean Martin is eventually going to try and murder someone down here?

33:54 - HE CALLED FOR BACKUP <3 <3 <3 OUR BOY IS GROWING UP AND I’M SO PROUD. <3 

35:40 - FINALLY SOME MALCOLM WHUMP. <3 THIS SEASON HAS BEEN LACKING IT. 

36:00 - This is really interesting to me. I honestly wonder if Martin has some sort of split personality disorder (personality #1: murderous, selfish, psychopath; personality #2: loving, concerned father and lawful doctor). You can see how desperately he wants to escape. But also how much he loves his son. I honestly thought he was going to leave Malcolm to die. 

36:06 - Ugh. Look at his whumped face. <3 <3 <3 ....one thing that I couldn’t stop thinking during all the tazing (which was amazing FYI, I’m not complaining) is this: in QxA (1x07) Mr. David says that he only has a single shot tazer. Why did Andre have a multi-shot tazer? Is this a gold card vs red card thing?

36:40 - WHY THE EFF DOES BACKUP NOT INCLUDE GIL?!?! I KNOW HE’S STILL IN THE BUILDING. 

37:03 - MARTIN, IF YOU TOUCH A HAIR ON DANI’S HEAD I WILL PERSONALLY HUNT YOU DOWN AND KILL YOU MYSELF. He honestly looks like he wants to murder her. 

37:50 - Martin’s speech is not going to help Malcolm’s mental state. At all. 

38:31 - No. No. No. Martin you do NOT get to talk to Dani on a first name basis. Look at how much Dani hates it. 

38:35 - I love how soft Malcolm looks as Martin lifts him up. Look at how Malcolm gently leans into the touch. It breaks my heart. After 20 years Malcolm is still comforted by physical contact with his father. :( 

38:37 - “Put your hands on me again Dr. Whitly, and I’ll blow your head off.” OH HELL YES. Dani is my hero. Iconic. Also - anyone else notice that Dani is chewing gum in this scene (I don’t think she’s chewed gum on camera since the pilot?) it makes her look like so much more of a badass in this scene. 

38:55 - Oh look. The rest of the backup finally showed up. Where were these assholes 5 minutes ago when DANI WAS ALONE? AND WHERE IS GIL?!?!

39:00 - Malcolm thanking Dani is so so precious. And the fact that he’s clearly struggling to breathe and stay conscious is giving me life. ALSO Dani saying, “YOU’re welcome.”?!? *chef’s kiss* :) :) <3

39:30 - So Malcolm definitely knows that Martin almost left him to die so that Martin could escape. 

39:33 - ......Ainsley is currently living with Jessica. Why is Ainsley not at the family dinner? We literally see her in the house in like 30 seconds. 

39:35 - Malcolm in a polo shirt. Malcolm in a polo shirt. Why is it so attractive?!? He looks like a baby cinnamon roll? <3 

39:51 - WHO THE EFF LET AINSLEY INTO THE MURDER BASEMENT?!? WHY AM I EXPECTED TO BELIEVE THAT JESSICA DIDN’T RE-SEAL IT AFTER WATKINS?!?!

40:15 - Jessica desperately tearing apart the living room is heartbreaking. :(

40:29 - Question: Did Jessica send her staff home before she tore apart the living room? Because I can just imagine two of them staring into the living room from the hall like, “She’s finally snapped. Should we call someone?”

41:00 - Jessica is the queen of drama. HOLY SHIT. This reveal was so extra and so perfect. 

41:13 - “I killed him.” “You’re lying.” I love this interaction between Jessica and Malcolm. Malcolm has spent his whole life trying to convince people that he’s not a murderer. To protect Ainsley, his baby sister, he will say the words “I killed him”. Even though that is literally killing a part of Malcolm. Jessica knows it. I love that Jessica can see that Malcolm is lying. She’s not trying to convince herself that he’s innocent. She literally just accused him of murder. She’s scared. Because Malcolm just admitted to killing someone - his biggest fear - and it was a lie. 

41:35 - Watching Bellamy Young’s facial expression as Jessica realizes that Ainsley killed Endicott is a thing of beauty. This woman needs an Emmy too. HELL, CAN WE GIVE THIS WHOLE EPISODE AN EMMY?!?! 

42:00 - Poor Jessica. The guilt she must feel. She’s always thought that Malcolm was the one at risk of being a murderer. He’s a boy (they’re statistically more prone to violence than girls), he was older than Ainsley, he remembers terrible things, Malcolm had continued exposure to Martin throughout his childhood (Ainsley didn’t - I think?). But the child she neglected, the child she thought was safe, the child she thought remained free of Martin’s evil killed someone. It’s a plot-twist that just ripped Jessica’s heart into a million pieces. 

42:30 - Yep. I promise you Malcolm has been psychoanalyzing Ainsley’s past behaviours since the moment she killed Endicott. He’s found traits common to serial killers and he’s terrified that she’ll become one if she remembers what it felt like to kill Endicott. He’s probably kicking himself for not noticing sooner. He’s probably questioning his ability as a profiler and as a big brother. AND the fact that MALCOLM has to protect Jessica AND Ainsley is heartbreaking. It’s way too big a burden. No wonder Malcolm’s mental health is on a downward spiral. 

42:33 - This is the moment Jessica begins grieving for Ainsley. The fear, disbelief, and horror on her face. It’s torture that I can only describe as someone telling a mother that her daughter is dead. Because Ainsley is dead. The person Jessica believed Ainsley was - that little girl is dead. Because Jess just found out the truth. 

42:55 - Jessica is now terrified of her own daughter. That is maybe the most upsetting thing this show has given us. 

43:00 - I saw an interesting theory about how Ainsley is regressing back to her childhood (crawling into bed with Mom, moving back in with Mom) and I must say - that would be a really interesting way for this story to go. Ainsley regressing to a child-like state as she is convicted of murder. As a result she ends up in the women’s ward of Claremont because she can plead insanity. 

This episode was amazing. Seriously, one of the best Prodigal Son episodes to date. Definitely the best of season 2 so far. If you’ve read this far - thanks for hanging out. 

[fan-girling-101]

Switched

Request by Anonymous: Hello can I please request a imagine where the ready has a twin sister and they decided to switch and see how long it takes everyone to notice. The reader is also dating JJ!! Thank you!!

JJ Maybank X Reader

Summary: Request^

Warnings: Swearing, underage drinking, slight rape just a little bit sorta

Word count: 2880

The twin Sadie, her nickname by Rafe is Die I hope someone gets the reference. Also thank you so so so much for my first request I was so happy. Please continue sending them in. And I’m very slow at updating so sorry in advance if I take a long time to respond. 

Part two

Not edited sorry for mistakes 

When me and my twin sister Sadie where younger we’d switch places all the time. I was amusing being someone else for the short time we’d do it. As we got older it stopped happening as much until the last time we did it was grade 6. The two of us have lived on the rich side of the Outerbanks our whole life The rich people were never my scene though, so I made friends with the pogues. I was closest to JJ out of everyone in the group and slowly I found myself falling for the blond headed idiot. And somehow that’s how I ended up here, two months into dating JJ but scheming with my sister.

“Come on Sadie just for a little bit.” I pleaded with her, between the two of us Sadie was always the level headed and calm sister. It was my idea in the first place to switch places back in kindergarten.

“I am NOT kissing JJ.” Was the main argument to why she didn’t want to do it.

“I don’t want you to kiss him. He’s my boyfriend, it’s not like I’m going to kiss Rafe the lo-” I got cut off with a hand over my mouth. The love of your life was the ending to that sentence. Sadie doesn’t like talking about it but she’s in love with Rafe Cameron.

“If we do this you need ground rules.” She states looking around my room for the notebook we would write the rules in everytime. She finds the dark read notebook on the bottom of my bookshelf and grabs a random pen from my desk. “1. No kissing anyone. I won’t kiss JJ and you don’t kiss you know who.” she says gesturing with her hand.

“I’m never going to kiss Voldemort.” I joke as she starts in her effortlessly perfect handwriting.

“Your so funny I might die of laughter.” Her bitch face on as she glares at me. “2. Don’t make and life altering decisions.” I nod along thinking of what else to add.

“4.” “What about 3 stupid.” “3 is a stupid number I don’t like it. 4. I pick what you wear and vice versa.” She starts writing it down writing three instead of four. “I think that’s it. There’s a bonfire tonight at John B’s tonight wanna start then?”

“Yea that’s good I’m supposed to go over to Sarah’s. And take a picture of it because if you do anything wrong I’m going to kill you and throw you in the marsh.”

“And remember no kissing ya know.”

Day one

Y/N’s Pov

Sadie dressed me in a white summer dress and I took her car over to the Camerons. When I park outside of the huge house I text Sarah to let me in. I pull down the sun visor and open the mirror looking at my appearance with the light make up and my Y/H/C slightly curled. 

“Your name is Sadie Y/L/N, your 16 and in love with Rafe Cameron.” I take a breath getting in the mindset of my twin. “I can totally do this.” I hop out the car making it to the first step when Sarah opens the door. “Hey.”

“Hi you know you don’t have to tell me you’re here. You just walk in.” She opens the door wider so I can slip through. I awkwardly laugh nodding my head unsure what to do. “Go up to my room I’ll get snacks.” 

I walk up the stairs trying to remember where her room is. I’ve only been here a few times before Midsummers so we could all get ready together. I look both ways before deciding on going right. I get to the door I think is Sarah’s opening it praying to God I was right. But God decided on taking a vacation, instead of the light purple walls I was hoping for I got grey ones instead. 

“Fuck!” I hear, the person in the room faces me calming down once he sees who opened the door. “God Die what the hell. Next time knock, and what are you even doing here.” 

“Umm.... I’m lost. I think my brain stopped working I thought this was Sarah’s room.” I say looking around the room my eyes landing on a white substance on the desk he stood up from. “What’s that.” I ask hoping it’s not what I think it is and Sadie’s crush is a druggie.

“Nothing, two four doors down.” I slowly nob. closing the door trying to forget what I ‘didn’t’ just see. “And Die you didn’t see anything ok.” I nod again opening the right door this time sitting waiting for Sarah.

Sadie’s POV

“Hey princess.” JJ greats me as I get out of Putt Putt Y/N’s car. His hand finds its way to my denim clad hip from the shorts Y/N put me in. I really just want to push his hand off me, this is my sister boyfriend for God sake. He leans down to press him lips to mine but i turn my head his lips landing on my cheek instead. 

“Hi.” I wave to the rest of them pulling away from JJ. I try to ignore the stare coming from the blond as I sit in one of the lawn chairs. The sun was going down as I got here Y/N telling me what time to leave and what to wear before heading out way earlier to the Camerons. 

“Late as always Y/N/N.” John B shakes his head sipping the beer in his hand. Never once has my sister been early for anything and it stresses me out so much I don’t know how she does it. 

“It’s called being fashionably late Booker. But you wouldn’t get that would you?” I laugh knowing that was something she would say to her best friends. JJ sits beside me still staring so I turn to face him giving him a smile, he relaxes a little bit wrapping an arm around my shoulders. My or Y/N’s phone rings in her backpack I grab it out seeing the text from ‘My Person’, it was what we agreed on for our contact names after we repeatedly binged Grey’s.

                                                   My person

Bro what do you and S talk about????

                                                                       The latest drama at school

Sooo....                                                                                                        What is the latest drama

                                                  God do we even go to the same school                                                                           Immanuel P. kissed Madison B.

Seriously!! 

In a few hours it hits midnight and I was freezing. The cropped AC/DC shirt and shorts doing nothing against the cold autumn air. The night of Autumn in the Outerbanks were always so cold for a place that’s supposed to be hot. The fire was helping but I wanted something more. I got up to check Putt Putt for one of Y/N’s hoodies but I was pulled back landing on JJ’s lap a small shriek leaving my lips. 

“Were you going Princess.” His arms tightly around my waist while my arms go around his neck. His eyes staring into mine with nothing but adoration. I was happy that Y/N had someone in her life that loved her, but the way he looked at me thinking I was my sister makes me want to tell them a little . But I have to admit this is so fun.

“I’m cold and just going to find a hoodie.” He still doesn’t let go, instead one hand moves off my waist to grab something beside him. In his hand is know a black hoodie that would be way too big for me but as he hands it to me I slip it over my head. “Thanks.”

“You ok, you seem, I don’t know... off.” 

“I’m fine.” I give him a reassuring smile but I can she he doesn’t buy it.

“Are you sure you know you can tell anything right.” His thumb starts rubbing circles on the exposed skin under my shirt. I am so taking a long bath when I get home. I like JJ, it’s not like I hate Pogues or anything it just weird though.

“I 100 percent fine J, if something was wrong I’d tell you, you know that”

“Yea I do.”

Day 2

Sadie’s POV

Nothing was happening with the pogues today so I got an off day, but then I had to go and say something I wish I didn’t. 

                                              🥰My Surfer Boy🥺

You doing anything                                                                                      Can I come over 

                                                    Sadie is dragging me to a kook party

Well then I’ll just have to score an invite

Now JJ wasn’t going to stop till he could come which wouldn’t be hard as Sarah was inviting John B.

Y/N POV 

We pick out each others clothes before going to the party at Topper’s. I go to find Sarah lookinaroundud for the blonde. But instead of finding that blond I see Sade and JJ, his arm wrapped around my sister making me jealous. 

“Hey Die.” A voice says right behind me making me jump not at all expecting Rafe. He chuckles at me reaction before handing me a drink.

“What’s in it.” I ask, Sadie doesn't normally drink so I don’t know if I should take a sip of the dark liquor. “Trust me.” Is all he says back. I take whiff smelling how strong it is. Me personally would never trust Rafe, but this is Sadie not Y/N. I take a cautious sip. The second I take a sip I almost gag at how strong it is. I could handle alcohol but that is to much. Rafe starts laughing so I grab the front of his shirt and pour the rest down his chest.

“Hey Hey.” he pushes me back but it’s to late his shirt now had a dark stain on the front. “Okay maybe I deserved that.” He shakes his head at mumbling something about changing his shirt. There was a tug on my arm and I was faced with myself, well my sister. JJ behind her laughing putting his hand up for me to high five. Which I did.

“What are you doing. I would never do that.” She scolds me in a whisper so JJ won’t hear. When we switched Sadie was very serious about staying discreet. 

“Well I can’t kiss him as you what do you want me to do?” I laugh as she scoffs walking away JJ following behind her still laughing.

Day 4

Sadie’s POV

Four days nobody really suspected anything, well other than JJ he keeps asking if I ok. And I’ve had to dodge every kiss he tried to give me, and when I tell you JJ loves kiss Y/N it’s an understatement. It was the night of a boneyard kegger hosted by the pogues. 

I was chatting with Kie about turtles when a very drunk Kelce came over. He slung his arm around my shoulder, his drink spilling out of his cup and onto Y/N’s favorite shirt. I never really liked Kelce he just made me uncomfortable. Any time I saw Rafe, Topper and him out I’d always say hi, bothe Rafe and Topper would respond with a hi while Kelce would look me up and down before saying anything.

“Hey babygirl. God you don’t know how many times I’ve dreamed of fucking you are you sister, to have the two of you under me screaming my name. Why don’t we make it reality.” He drops his mostly full cup silling it on the converse I was wearing. His hand going to my waist and his lips attaching to my neck.

“Get off me! Stop!” Suddenly he was ripped off me. JJ’s fist colliding with his face. Kie grabs my hand asking if I was okay. I nod hopping into the van. Soon enough John B, Pope and JJ came to the van, JJ sitting right beside me wrapping me in his arms hugging me as no one said anything. 

“I don’t know how many times I’m going to have to punch him in the face for him to stop.” JJ said as we park at John B’s. I grab my phone leaving the van before it’s fully stopped I ran inside Dialing my number. 

“Yo Sade how’s life on the cut.”

“Were you ever going to tell me about Kelce.” I ask angrly pacing around the small bathroom.

“About that.” She nervously laughs not continuing. “Maybe should've warned you Kelce is in love with us before you went to the party.”

In Love with us! Y/N he tried to have sex with me!.”

“I know.”

“I hate you sometimes.”

Day 5

Y/N’s POV

I was at a small party just some friends over and some games at Sarah’s. We were all sitting in the living room talking about all the drama at school which I knew nothing about. A hour in Rafe and some of his guys friends walked in. Just as Sarah was going to tell them to leave Carmella asked them to stay, while practically eye fucking the kook king himself. Instead of walking over to the girl begging for his attention he sat beside me on the couch. I put Sadie’s phone I was currently texting her on so she could keep up with everything down.

“Nice to see you here Die.” 

“Hi Rafey.” I replied back using the nickname I usually call him. He rolls his eye as Carmella sits basically on top of him and starts a conversation about some boring kook thing. I felt bad for Sadie if this is what she has to deal with. “Come on. We’re out of snacks.” I grab his hand pulling him with me to the kitchen.

“Why do I have to come.” He whines like a baby as we get into the hallway, but follows even when I let go of his hand.

“Because I need help getting snacks.” JJ please forgive me for what I’m about to do. I grab the front of his expensive polo shirt putting my lips to his. He starts to kiss back but I pull away grabbing Oreos and walking back to the living room. Soon Rafe walks in clearly shocked of what just happened in the kitchen. Rule one and two broken. Oops.

Sadie’s POV

After hours of sitting in the sun on the boat I’m practically dying. I mean sure living in Obx you get used to the heat but someone turn the heat down. JJ has been asking me nonstop questions about things which I find weird but I answer.

What star sign are you? Virgo

Who’s the president? Trump

How many states are there? 50

9x7? 63

Our favorite thing to do together? Surf

What does www mean? World wide web

What university are you going to? UNC

Dream job? Not sure

I was confused what was happening the Pogues all asked what JJ was doing but he just said nothing.

“Sadie.”

“Yea-shit.”

“HA I knew it.” JJ jumped up startling everyone. I sighed, everytime it was always me that messes up if people find out. 

“How did you find out. Was it that I knew was www meant?” I question texting Y/N to get to John B’s. As we pulled up to the dock Kie got out laughing that I should be an actress. 

“No it’s that you answered 9x7 so fast. Also next time dream job is opening a surf shop together.”

Y/N’s POV

When I show up I knock on the door fiddling with my fingers. The door opens with the blond headed, blue eyed boy kissing me. He wraps his arms tightly around my back like he hasn’t kissed my in forever. I giggled kissing his nose wrapping my arms around his neck.

“Took you long enough. Five days surfer boy, gotta do better next time.” I push past him into the Chateau. “Hey guys miss me.” They shake the heads at me calling us crazy.

“I just thought it was that time of the month or something.” JJ said wrapping his arms around my torso resting his head on my head. I hit the back of his head causing him to playfully bite my ear. “Don’t ever do that again I was worried you were mad at me.” He looks between me and Sadie and I turn to face him giving his a salute.

I sit beside Sadie whispering in her ear that I kissed Rafe earlier tonight. “WHAT!” She jumps up. “You broke rule one and two!!! I have to go fix what you messes up now!”

“I didn’t break rule four though.”

“I hate you!” She runs out of the house starting up her car and driving off to the Camerons.

Later that night I’m curled into JJ on the bed in the room he claimed as our. The shirt he was wearing now over my shoulders enclosing me in the smell and heat that is JJ Maybank. My head on his chest listening to the rhythmic heartbeat. In the five days without JJ this is one of the things I missed most. His smell was just intoxicating and his arms tightly around me felt safe.

“Oh JJ I may have kissed Rafe.”

______________________________________________________________

Part two

[thiswasinevitableid]

98. I’ve been hired to kill you, but you don’t seem that concerned???

Super/vigilante/mercenary au? I feel like it would be really cool if one of them has known the other’s secret identity for a while but doesn’t have anything against them. The two have also been becoming /close/ friends with mutual pining, so the hit is actually just a good excuse to reveal their identity before asking them out. Indruck, nsfw, please!

Here you go! I tried to work in as much of this as I could

Content warning for mentions of guns and mentions of death

It’s a dark and stormy night, because of course it fucking is.

Indrid steers the borrowed car down the street, rain hammering the car while his heart tries chiseling it’s way from his chest. He doesn’t want to be here, circling the block like a shark on a reef, the light from the top floor, left corner of the apartment building telling him there’s no pretending his prey isn’t home. He doesn’t want to think about the instructions he burned, the lethal object hidden in his clothes.

He doesn’t want to kill Duck Newton.

“Excuse me, but I have a rather odd question; which of these trails is the least traveled?”

The ranger looks up from the map between them, grin friendly and a little lopsided, “Lookin to do some birdwatchin or somethin?”

“I like to draw but I, ah, I also get easily overwhelmed by crowds.”

“Try this one” The man circles a trailhead, “not super popular this time of year. Watch out for mud.”

“I shall, thank you.”

He didn’t.

Which is why he’s back in the visitor center, trying to get enough of the mud off so that driving home isn’t miserable. Worse, the ranger from earlier walks in, takes one look at him, and snickers.

“I tried! Truly, I was careful, but there was this-”

“Patch of stones in the trail?”

“...Yes. How did you know?”

“Fell flat on my ass two days ago thanks to them. Wait here a sec.” The door swings shut, then opens again while Indrid is rinsing mud from his glasses. The ranger holds out a packet of body wipes, “this’ll get the worst of it.”

“Thank you ranger...Newton.”

That same smile, reaching a pair of mismatched eyes, “Just call me Duck. It’s a nickname.”

Indrid parks in a spot far from any streetlights or cameras, pulls the hood of his sweatshirt over his head and starts towards the apartment complex.

“These are fascinating.” Indrid peers over the edge of the dock at the early blooming bulbs.

“Glad you like ‘em, thought they might be alley after you showed me those drawings of the marsh.”

He imagines Duck seeing the flowers on his rounds and thinking not of the seasons, the weather, the way their petals look near the water, but of him. It’s the sweetest thought anyone’s ever spared for him.

The lobby door opens easily, courtesy of the copy of the keycard left in his mailbox. He knows he should take the stairs; fewer people use them.

He calls the elevator.

“Duck? The sign on the door is, that’s just temporary right?”

“Nope.” Duck sets his hat on the counter, runs a hand right through the grey streak in his hair, “they’re closin the whole park until further notice, which is probably gonna be never. Laid all of us off.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“S’okay.”

Even Indrid could tell it wasn’t. That from their occasional conversations, Duck’s work was akin to his heart, kept life flowing through him on even the roughest days. The assignment had told him not to worry, that he was almost doing his target a favor, ending a life he wanted over anyway.

Indrid knocks on the door, tossing his options about in his mind as slow footsteps approach. He could do what he was sent here for. Or he could offer Duck Newton something to brighten his days.

The door opens, Duck standing there in boxers, a plain white t-shirt, and a confused expression.

“Indrid? Jesus, come in, you're fuckin soaked. This is some storm.”

“At least it will help with the drought.” Indrid closes the door, slips off his shoes, lets Duck take his sweatshirt to hang near the heater, angling his body so he won’t see or feel the handgun tucked in his waistband.

“Yeah. Assumin it don’t just mudslide all the hills that lost their cover durin fire season.” Duck sighs, plops down on the couch, “sorry, ain’t exactly in a chipper mood.”

“That’s sort of why I came to see you. I, ah, I wanted to see how you were getting on after the park closing.”

Duck gestures to the messy apartment, then at himself.

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Not unless you got enough money to reopen the park indefinitely.”

He chuckles, “I wish I did.” He picks up a small, wooden ship, “goodness, did you make this?”

“Yep. Know it’s an old man hobby but, uh, I dunno. I just like makin stuff. Putting things into the world, even if it’s just a model ship on the shelf or a mint plant on the windowsill.” His smile is tired, but there’s a determination to it that makes up Indrid’s mind for him. He’s about to make his offer when Duck adds, “mind grabbin me some water since you’re closer to the kitchen? Cups are in the middle cabinet.”

“Of course.” Indrid crosses into the small kitchen, mind wandering to what their first date will entail as he sets his hands on two glasses.

The cold metal at the base of his neck hurtles him back to earth.

“Someone set you up, slim.”

“I, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Duck’s hand goes instantly to Indrid’s gun, pulling it free and tossing it away before roughly patting him up and down. The barrel on his skin never wavers.

“Duck, please, I, I can explain.”

“No need to. Thought you seemed familiar, went diggin and found out who you work for. Bet you thought I hadn’t seen your nine mil, but I ain’t lived this long by bein careless.”

“I don’t understand. The file they gave me didn’t say anything about this.”

A bitter chuckle, “Wasn’t always a ranger, slim. The fact they didn’t tell you that makes me think they’re hopin I off you, not the other way around.”

“But, but I didn’t do anything.” The crack in his voice is why he was never cut out for this, he told them that, over and over again.

“And you ain’t gonna.”

“Duck please I, I wasn’t going to do what they told me.”

“If your bosses are who I think, then helpin me would be a goddamn death wish on your part.”

“It would have been worth it. One date with you would have been worth whatever they did to me if they caught me after I ran.”

“That’s mighty funny” the barrel disappears, and the ghost of a kiss takes it’s place, “I was busy weighing whether askin you out was worth the risk of gettin shot.”

Duck sets the Glock on the counter as Indrid slumps against it, turning to find the ranger watching him carefully.

“What do we do now?” He sort of wants him to kiss him, sort of wants to storm out and find whoever thought he could be gotten rid of so easily.

“I say we-” Duck freezes as three, sharp knocks come from the door. He crouches to the floor, Indrid following him. The ranger grabs Indrid’s gun from the floor, whispers, “stay put, follow my lead.” Then he calls, “who is it?”

“I have a package for you to sign for, Mr. Newton.”

“Be right there. Actually” he lowers his voice slightly, “uh, Indrid, you’re right by the door, could you-”

The shot breaks the wood right where Indrid’s head would be. Duck fires two shots, both of them sighing when there’s a tell-tale thump of body meeting carpet.

“Glad yours had the silencer. Buys us some time, but someone is bound to come outta their apartment eventually and find the fucker.”

“Our hitmen also have to report completion within a certain time frame or back-up is sent. And no, I can’t do it for him, it has to be voice contact.” Indrid stands, calmer than a moment ago; this part he knows.

“Good to know. In that case, slim,” he raises an eyebrow, “think it’s time you and I take a vacation.”

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

“You really got no clue what they’re after you for?” Duck winds them along highway 50 as the sun peers anxiously over the horizon.

“None.” Indrid fishes out the roll of mini doughnuts he bought near Donner Lake, the first place Duck had deemed safe to stop since they left the coast. They’re in his car, Indrid knowing full well the one he borrowed has a tracking device installed, “I’m mostly a numbers man; they give me scenarios and I give them likely outcomes. I, ah, I also helped with clean up, but I suspect they did that when they were annoyed I’d given them what they thought was an inaccurate prediction. I don’t like the aftermath of disasters, even if they’re small. And I was never, ever assigned a hit until last night” He worries a hangnail, “I thought they were satisfied with my work. Even if they weren’t, they could easily do away with me. There was no point in sending me on a fake mission and hoping you’d kill me instead.”

“Unless they got something against me too, which they could.” Duck drums on the wheel, “I, uh, I joined a, uh, guess you’d call ‘em a vigilante group when I was younger. I was eighteen and they recruited me, sayin how there were certain folks who were chosen to protect the world from evil. I avoided it for a few years, but they were persistent, and honestly I thought I could make a difference. That we were just protectin folks who the system didn’t. And we did. Kinda.”

Indrid offers him a doughnut, which he takes and chews before continuing

“Trouble was, not everyone agreed on who needed protectin. It got so convoluted and so goddamn dangerous that I decided I wanted out. Wanted to spend the rest of my life makin things grow, lookin out for the woods, that kinda thing. It almost worked. But if I could go back in time to talk to that kid, I’d tell ‘im there are enemies you can’t unmake, things you can’t undo.”

“Very true.” Indrid murmurs, “I suppose I’d tell myself I did not blame him for throwing in with who he had to in order to survive.”

“Pretty sure that’s what you’re doin’ now, too.”

“No.” Indrid shakes his head, “right now I am on the run with someone I like a great deal.”

Duck flashes him a smile, flips the blinker to turn them into the only sign of civilization for miles; a cluster of buildings calling itself Cold Springs Station. The groggy teen at the counter gives them the key to a cramped cabin.

Indrid tosses his bag--the one he hid in the trunk of the borrowed car, knowing the likely outcome of his visit would involve flight of some kind--down on the right side of the bed, Duck doing the same on the left. It’s only when they’re under the covers, both half-asleep, that he notices he forgot something.

“Drat. I meant to stick something plush in my bag. I, ah” he blushes, “I sleep much better with something to cuddle.”

A strong arm drapes over his waist while Duck tucks his head under Indrid’s head, “how’s that?”

Indrid winds his limbs around him, feeling like a little kid who’s just had his favorite teddy bear returned to him after hours of tearful searching, “perfect.”

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

The plan is to weave through the Southwest like a drunk bee before turning North; they need to put off visiting any places with friends or family for as long as they can. They spent a morning on the floor of a run down motel with a map and some pens, marking off the safest routes and places they’d like to visit. Duck picks state parks, Indrid any place likely to have lots of sweet food.

Whenever they stop for the night, they never bother asking for two beds. While they’ve yet to go further, Indrid delights in waking Duck with a kiss on the cheek each morning.

On the Nevada border Indrid spends two hours playing Blackjack, counting cards enough to win several thousand dollars but not enough to get caught. In a pizza place outside of Salt Lake, Duck wins Indrid a stuffed mothman from a claw machine (“just in case you gotta sleep alone some time”).

And fifty miles from Alamogordo, they get into trouble.

Indrid carries his weapon near constantly, but he really didn’t think he needed it at the Motel 6 Breakfast Buffet. When the man waiting for the waffle maker next to him says “outside, Cold, let’s get this over with” he goes still, wishing they’d at least given him time to eat.

Then he hurls his scalding mocha into the man’s face, striking him in the ribs and breaking his nose before he even hits the floor. Orange and red liquid splashes his face, two shots hitting the juice dispenser behind him. The other two assassins don’t get a second chance to fire; Duck takes out one with a chair, jabs the other with the splintered leg, and gathers both their guns with an ease that Indrid admires.

As they’re sprinting for the parking lot, Indrid slapping an extra two hundred dollars on the lobby desk in apology, he realizes admiration doesn’t quite capture his feelings. Duck is so calm in the face of danger, so commanding, and so very, very...hot.

The moment he allows himself that thought is the moment he dooms his focus for the remainder of the day. He contributes to the planning of their next stop, to driving and watching the mirror for cars that follow for too long, but his mind is back in the dining room, hoping Duck will turn the fire in his eyes onto Indrid, bend him over the beige table and take him while the people who tried to hurt them whimper and bleed on the floor.

“‘Drid? I’m gonna go shower, didn’t get a chance this mornin. You wanna scope out dinner?”

“Of course, but I fear it might be the vending machine special again.”

“Eh, I can live with that, especially if they got those Oreo packets.” Duck blows him a kiss and shuts the bathroom door.

Duck’s showers are between five and six minutes in length; Indrid’s certain he can get himself off in that time. He slips his pajama pants down, spits in his hand, and pretends the fingers pressing on his neck are not his own. That Duck’s voice is in his ear the same way it was that first night, low and so firm Indrid has no choice but to bend.

“You droppin hints, slim?” Duck leans in the bathroom doorway, towel around his waist.

He bolts upright, pants tangled around his knees, “Nono, I’m, I’m so sorry, I thought you were going to be a few minutes more.”

“Wanted to shave and forgot my dop kit. Now I’m kinda disappointed that I was gonna miss the show.”

“I, ah, I, it doesn’t bother you?”

“Thought we established we were into each other.” Duck’s smile falters, “wait, fuck, if you decided you ain’t I’ll back the fuck off.”

“No!” Indrid crawls to the edge of the bed nearest Duck, not caring how silly he must look, “it’s the opposite, I want you even more now than I did when we started this trip. After this morning I--ah, never mind. The point is, I would very much like to get you into bed sooner rather than later.”

“How about now?”

“Only if you…” Indrid’s brain screeches to a stop as Duck drops his towel. Now he understands where the urge to create phallic sculptures comes from; he wants to preserve this sight for all time.

“Glad you approve.” Duck chuckles, joins him on the bed, “gotta say the, uh, feelin’s mutual.” He slides a hand along Indrid’s dick, gone soft from his alarm, and lets out an approving groan as it hardens against his palm, “that’s it, sugar, get excited for me.”

“If I get any more excited I will explode.”

“Can’t have that, it’s a pain to clean blood off of walls by yourself” a kiss finds his cheek, “you got a preference for how we do this?”

“I, I’d like to, ah, receive. At least for tonight. Is that alright?”

“Hell yeah.” Duck growls, abandoning him on the bed and laughing when he whines, “gimme two seconds, slim, then I’ll take care of you.” Two condoms and a small bottle of lube bonk into Indrid’s foot, “packed those just in case. You’re gonna get one of ‘em out and open yourself up for me while tellin me just what got you so riled up. Shirt off, c’mon, get to it.”

The gruff tone means Indrid is blushing on every inch of skin by the time he’s fully naked. As Duck’s gaze moves over him, all traces of dominance wash away, leaving expression tender when their eyes finally meet.

“Christ, ‘Drid, you look better than ever coulda pictured. Shoulda been bookin more places with pools just to get you shirtless.”

“It’s January, dear.”

“Hot tubs, then.” Duck nudges him onto his back by kissing his shoulder, and the sight of the ranger above him reminds Indrid’s fingers what they should be doing. He fumbles the condom open, gasps when one digit feels like a massive intrusion.

“Easy slim, easy, you’re probably still tense from this mornin.”

“I thought that much was obvious.” Indrid grins as Duck bends to kiss his collarbone.

“It is, so start tellin me what got you so horny you jerked off the first free second you had.”

“It’s a, a bit embarrassing OH, ohthat'snice” he sighs as Duck kisses a slow trail towards his hips, “but I find the moments when you demonstrate a certain...ruthlessness in-incredibly arousing.” He wiggles his hips happily as Duck drags his lips across his belly.

“Keep goin.”

“You’re brave, and calm even when things are awful, and that makes me feel so very safe with you. But then there are those times when I remember how dangerous you could be, AHnnn” the second finger goes in easier than the first, “that when it, it comes down to it you are more seasoned in lethal matters than I am and I, you could render me utterly helpless, have me, use me, hurt me, but instead you offer me more tenderness than I deserve.” He glances down to where Duck’s chin rests on his chest, the ranger’s eyes overflowing with affection.

“You want the gentle me or the rough one tonight?” Duck tucks a strand of Indrid’s silver hair behind his ear.

“Rough.” It’s so quiet he’s amazed Duck hears it.

“Okay. In that case-”

“AHgod!” Indrid’s hand is pulled free as Duck first flips him over and then hauls him onto his knees.

“Hands on the wall. Now.”

Indrid sets his palms on peeling grey paint as foil crinkles behind him. When the head of Duck’s cock rubs his entrance he whimpers, hoping the prep was enough.

“Here’s how this is gonna go; I’m gonna use this cute little ass however long and however hard I want, and you;re gonna keep your hands there the whole fuckin time. You move, or you mouth off, and I shove some fingers in along with my dick just to remind you who’s boss.”

“Ohhhhhyes” Indrid rests his forehead on the wall.

“It gets to be too much, say stop.” A kiss to his neck, “much as I wanna ruin you, wanna be good to you even more.”

“Understood. Now please, please fuck meEEEh, ohgoodnessAH, ahhhgod.” He scratches the wall as Duck stretches him open, the prep proving enough but only just and tears pricking his eyes by the time Duck bottoms out.

One hand stays on his hip while Duck’s right arm wraps around his chest, keeping them close, “Fuuuck, now I see what your job was; ass this nice, you were the fuckin cocksleeve for the entire Organization, weren’t you?”

“Not at all” Indrid rolls his hips at the taunt in Duck’s voice, “I was a very valuable asset.”

“Yeah, I’ll say you’re an asset.” A sharp thrust, the menace of which is broken by Duck giggling at his own joke, Indrid hiding his face in his arm to do the same.

“I say in, ahgod, an office all day, no one saw me, I was not h-hired for my looks, I promise you.”

“If you say so. I say it’s their. Fuckin. Loss.” Three thrusts and Indrid’s cock is dripping onto the pillows, and he moans as Duck settles into a demanding rhythm.

“Got another theory for you, slim.”

“D-do tell.” Whether the stammering is from his teeth clacking together or his thoughts being bounced around his brain from the force of Duck pounding into him, he can’t say.

“I think you stuck around as long as you did because you get off on it danger.”

Indrid sucks in a breath, whimpers, “No. I, I was there because I was apprenticed out and, as you knowOH it’s, it’s hard to leave such places.”

Fingers on his throat, pressing but not squeezing, “Liar. Bet you got off at least once a day, let everyone from the hired hits to higher ups cum in you as long as they made you think they could off someone. Oh fuck, heh, you like that?” Duck smirks as Indrid tries to fuck himself in time with the pumps of his hips.

“Yes, goodness, I’d never want it, only want you, but, but the idea is divine.”

“Too bad, because now you’re all mine and anyone who tries to take you is gonna be in for a world of hurt.”

His climax curls in his stomach, begging him to touch himself and free it, but he’s determined to be good.

“Duck, please let me cum, please, it’s so good but I can’t-”

“I’ll help you out sugar, don’t worry. But you gotta do one thing first.” Duck nips his ear, “say you’re my personal toy from now on. C’mon” the fingers on his throat tighten, “say i-”

“I’m yours, I’m your toy, only you can have me, you can do whatever you wish to me and I’ll take it with a smile, anything, sweetheart, please, pleasepleasepleaseAHhhhn.” His cum splatters on the wall, Duck’s hand leaving his dick the instant it does to dig his fingers into both hips and fuck up into him with ecstatic groans.

“That’s it sugar, take it, be good for me and lemme fuck you until you can’t move, ohfuck, fuck, ‘Drid, yes, fuckyes.” He holds him tight as he cums, breath warm against his back. Then he’s pulling out and slumping forward as Indrid falls back into his arms.

“Ooops” he snickers, spotting the cum, “still easier to clean than blood.”

“Indeed.” Indrid bites his lip, “I, that was wonderful but there’s one thing more I would like. Will you kiss me.” He looks over his shoulder to say it. Duck cups his face, turns it so he can bring their lips together. It’s far slower and twice as tender as anything else they’ve done together.

“Can’t believe I forgot to do that until now. Gonna kiss you silly.” Duck kisses him again as Indrid turns in his lap. When he pulls back, his face is serious, “Y’know, it’s easy to be brave and calm when I’m doin’ it for you. You make me feel like I can face any goddamn thing, long as it’s for your sake. That make sense?”

Indrid studies his face in the half-shaded light from the bedside lamp, sees the curves and colors, sees the man he was willing to run away for.

“Yes, sweetheart, it does.”

[blondekasp]

Absolutely Smitten

hihi!! so this is my gift to @november-hydrangea for the @itfandomprompts gift exchange, i’m sorry it’s a little late (had some internet troubles haha) but i hope you like it!

read on ao3

“Hey there, blondie. S’it okay if I sit here?” He wasn’t expecting to interact with someone so soon. But this is good, he supposes, it’s better to get the weight of first interactions with new people out of the way right out of the gate—he’ll maybe feel more prepared for class, later.

So he smiles, nods n’ watches the man sit down on the bench at the other side of the table, chunky ringlets bouncing around his head as he offers a braced grin. “Are ya just starting here?” Eddie short circuits for a moment, then remembers what the man must be talking about, n’ he sits up a little straighter.

“Oh, yeah, it’s my first year. Are you?” He receives an enthusiastic nod and a flash of buck teeth emerging from behind curved lips. His glasses are clunky, maybe a little too big for his face. The lenses are thick, too, magnifying his eyes to the maximum, n’ it’s maybe not a conventional look but it somehow completes his appearance. “Do you need directions or something?”

“Nah, I’ll figure tha’ stuff out, don’t worry, pal. I was actually wondering if ya wanted to join, a club, maybe more of a group, of sorts that me n’ my best girl Bev are starting?” He nudges his coke bottle glasses a little further up his nose, “It’s for, as Bev likes ta say, ‘friends of Dorothy’, so, would ya happen to be one?”

He’d heard about friends of Dorothy before, mostly whisperings between them in high school, n’ maybe it was because he paid too much attention, but he knew what it meant. Something twists achingly behind his ribs.

“Oh, I, uh, no! Uh, I…”

“Hey, hey, s’only a question, promise. M’not trying to catch you out.” The man’s eyes widen a little, azure irises covered over by pale lids, n’ then revealed again as he holds up his hands, as if to show that he meant no threat. Eddie suddenly feels his cheeks begin to burn like the eventide. “If you’re not, tha’s cool, but if you are, tha’s swell, too. N’ if ya wanna hang out after your classes or somethin’, we’ll be at the café across the street. Five o’clock.” He jerks his thumb behind him, n’ Eddie’s line of sight follows. He memorises the name, even if he’s not going to go.

Rather than open his mouth n’ embarrass himself further, Eddie nods. The man breaks out into a grin, “Neat, m’Richie by the way. I didn’t get your name either, blondie.”

“Oh, oh, it’s Eddie.” Richie holds his hand out, Eddie takes it slowly, shakes it, n’ lets it go soon after.

He’d thought that Richie would leave right away, now that the conversation is over, but it appears that he plans to stay. It’s silent, mostly, other than Richie making a passing comment or two about the weather, or people walking by. He asks Eddie about his classes, what his major is. He finds out in return that Richie is a drama major— it makes sense, Eddie thinks.

“Okay, I have to go, I have class now.” Eddie rises from the bench, gathering up his water n’ backpack, sun catching in his eyes for a moment before he raises his hand to shield them. “It was nice meeting you, Richie, you’re an interesting character.” He chuckles in spite of himself.

Richie stands, too, picking up his own things n’ smiling to Eddie. “You too, Eds, you’re a real cutie.” He winks, overly playful, a little ironically, n’ Eddie’s grip on his backpack tightens a little.

“My name is Eddie.” He reminds the man, face betraying him with a small smile. “I don’t usually go for nicknames.”

He’s met with a faux thoughtful expression, “Isn’t Eddie already a nickname?” N’ he can’t seem to think of a response to that, “See ya ‘round, Eds!” Before he can protest, Richie’s already bouncing away, but Eddie doesn’t have time to see where he goes off to, he has to go to class.

College isn’t what Eddie had thought it would be. Honestly, he’s not too sure what he’s been expecting until now, but he knows that it’s different. Classes are more laid back than they were in high school, the people are friendlier—though it wouldn’t be hard to find people to be nicer than most he’s met before, having grown up in the murder capital of Maine. Generally, though, the entirety of it is a breath of fresh air. He gets to stay in a dorm, by himself, away from the prying eyes of Ma, away from church, away from everyone who’d had a ruthless comment or two to make about him back home.

Five o’clock comes faster than he’s been anticipating, n’ as much as he dislikes the fact, he’s actually considering going to the little café across the street. It would be a nice way to wind down, ‘cause even if he’s elated to be here, the transition is stressful. But he wonders if he will be admitting something to himself if he goes.

By the time he makes it to the café, it’s gone quarter past five—if he hadn’t spent time fussing over whether or not he was actually going n’ walking back n’ forth between the college n’ the sidewalk where he’d have to cross, he’d probably have gotten there earlier.

Upon entering the café, he feels slightly intimidated. He hopes people aren’t staring at him, in Derry they stared a lot. “Eds, hey!” Thankful that he won’t have to awkwardly search for them, now, he gives Richie a tight lipped smile, n’ slowly walks across the room to their table. There’s seven of them, he realises, all very different looking people.

“That’s Miss Marsh, otherwise known as Bev.” Richie stands from the table, gesturing towards the red-headed woman who approaches him, holding out her hand. “She’s a real spitfire.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Eddie. D’ya like coffee?”

Eddie nods, “Oh, yeah, I like coffee. It’s nice to meet you, too.” He doesn’t like coffee, not really, anyway. It’s too bitter for his taste, even with sugar to sweeten it. He drinks it, though, every morning, if only to spite Ma. She’d never let him have coffee, or any caffeinated drink—said it would damage your heart, Eddie bear, you know how fragile it is. It hadn’t, of course.

“Great, I’ll go order you some.” She winks, reminiscent of the one Richie had thrown his way earlier in the day. He’s greeted by five others, Stan, Patty, Mike, Bill n’ Ben, or as Richie likes to call them—Stan the Man, Patpat, Micycle, Billiam n’ Haystack. They introduce themselves one by one, with kind smiles n’ a hug or a handshake to offer. He watches all of their eyes briefly flicker to his left shoulder, where his shirt is tied off n’ there’s a distinct lack of an arm, but they don’t ask, or look at him strangely, like he’s used to people doing.

Bev comes back a few minutes later, sits a cup n’ a small plate with a cookie on it down in front of Eddie, “Oh, thank you.” He smiles, finally pulling his jacket down from his shoulders n’ draping it over the back of his chair. “I’m Eddie, by the way.”

“Thanks for coming, Eds. We just thought this would be a good way to meet some new people who have things in common. Make things easier, have some good chucks.” Good chucks? “Stan, Patty n’ Mike are together, Bill has a girlfriend called Audra but she couldn’t make it n’ me, Miss Marsh n’ Haystack are all single pringles. Ya got a sweetheart yourself, Eds?”

“Oh, no, I don’t. Not many options where I lived, before I came here.” He explains, taking a sip of coffee. They all nod, murmurings of understanding coming from around the table. “Are all of you in college?”

Mike starts first, “I’ve been working on my family’s farm back home for years, I’m here with Stan an’ Patty while they get settled in n’ then I’ll just be visiting at weekends.” Stan takes Mike’s hand n’ squeezes it gently, Patty watches, smiling softly. “The rest of you are in college, right?”

“Yeah, n’ it’s already better than high school.” Richie interjects, “My comedic genius went very underappreciated in high school.” He explains solemnly, dramatically, n’ Eddie can’t help but chuckle.

“I’m yet to hear some of this ‘comedic genius’ that you speak of.” Eddie remarks, n’ Richie gasps, throwing a hand over the right side of his chest.

“Oh, you wound me, Eds! Already broken my heart n’ I’ve barely known you a day.”

“Your heart is on the left side, Einstein.” Richie waves him off, leaning over the table. Eddie feels himself lean closer, narrowing his eyes playfully. “Can I help you with something?”

Richie pinches his cheek gently, “You're a real cutie, Eds. You’ll be positively chuckalicious in no time, I promise m’hilarious.” He sits back, wiggling his eyebrows obnoxiously at Eddie, before taking a bite of his sandwich. He rolls his eyes at Richie, shaking his head as if in disagreeal. “Don’t believe me?”

“No, not really. How could I?”

“Alright, let me prove it.”

Suddenly, it’s six-thirty n’ he’s been watching Richie prove his comedic skill for an hour. About forty minutes ago, he was trying his best to blow Eddie away with his impressions which yes, even if Eddie tried hard not to show it, he thought were actually very funny. Twenty minutes ago, he decided that he wanted to showcase his ventriloquist act, but explained that since he doesn’t have his doll with him, he’d have to draw a face on his hand n’ improvise. Eddie’s almost thankful for the lack of preparation for this act, ‘cause the sight of Richie using his hand to flirt with Eddie is truly something else.

The others have almost faded into the background, ‘cause, unexpectedly, Richie is right at the forefront of his attention. He’s almost mesmerising, his confidence n’ charm to be admired. “Awh, come on, Eds. Whatddya say, my buddy here has all the top tier characteristics required of someone who can treat you right.” He moves his hand up n’ down rhythmically, as if to make it nod along with him, “He can be real handy when you need it.”

“Oh my God, Richie.” Eddie pushes him back a little, rolling his eyes n’ giggling as his face blooms red, “M’sorry but I think I’ll have to reject your hand, I already have a great one. I can write with it n’ everything.” He waves his right hand in front of Richie’s face, n’ proceeds to have it ‘kissed’ by Richie’s hand-puppet.

“That’s too bad, you two would’ve been great together, pal.” Richie nods solemnly at his hand, before putting it in his pocket. “So what’s your verdict, Eds? Do you deem me funny enough to be worthy of your friendship?” He casts a hand over his eyes, dramatically awaiting Eddie’s ‘important decision’.

Eddie giggles, “Yes, okay, but just know that even if I’m rejecting him, it was your hand friend that convinced me. He’s funnier than you.” He watches, amused, as Richie goes on another spiel about his poor broken heart n’ how he’ll never recover. When Richie’s finally done, n’ he’s flopped back down into his seat, Eddie finishes off what’s left of his coffee, still smiling to himself. Putting his cup down, he checks his watch, “Alright, I think I’m gonna go back to m’dorm now, m’kinda tired.”

“Okay, no worries, Eds. Think I’ll turn in for now, too. I could walk you back, if you like.” He offers, starting to pack up his bag as Eddie does the same. “Only if you want me to, of course.”

A little more time with Richie would be nice, he thinks. “Oh, sure, Richie. If you want to.” He nods, standing up, “It’s been great to meet you all. I hope we can hang out again soon, it was fun.”

“Of course! I’m glad you had fun, Eddie.” Ben pipes up, reaching up to pat his arm. Bev nods beside him, delighted, n’ the others all share murmurs of agreement. They’ve been kinder to him in a few hours than any of the people in his hometown in eighteen years.

Eddie says his goodbyes, lets Richie do the same, n’ then they’re off. The walk isn’t too long, the weather is still nice n’ the sun is just setting. It’s still busy on the streets, presumably other college students going out with their friends. “My dorm is just over here.” He points to the block closest to them. Richie nods, walking him over to the bottom of the building.

“Did ya have fun, today?” Richie asks when they stop outside the door, finally facing Eddie fully. He shoves his hands into his pockets, rocking back n’ forth on his feet. “I hope I wasn’t too, uh, loud, for you.”

Eddie shakes his head quickly, “Oh, no, of course not. I had a lot of fun, actually. More than I’ve had in a long time. So thank you.” Richie grins, looking sort of relieved. He pushes his glasses up again, Eddie thinks it might be a nervous tic of some sort.

“Of course, Eds, I’m glad.” He pauses for a moment, like he’s picking his next words carefully, “Say, uhm, would you maybe like to have breakfast with me, tomorrow? If you’re free?”

“Oh.” Eddie begins, taken aback. He hadn’t been expecting any of them to ask for more time with him outside of meeting all together. It’s a good thing, though, he supposes, to have made a new friend so quickly. Hell, to have made seven by the end of his first real day here. This is why he’s here. He doesn’t need Ma anymore. “I think that would be great. What time?”

“Ten o’clock? I’ll meet you out here? I saw a little diner a few streets away, we could maybe try it out.”

“I’d like that.” He agrees, “I’ll see you tomorrow, Rich.”

Richie comes a little closer, n’ bends down to press a short kiss to Eddie’s cheek. “Bye, Eds, see you tomorrow.” Then he’s moving back, waving briefly, n’ walking off the same way he had this morning. Eddie's heart picks a little, just enough to send a warm buzz around his ribs, into his fingertips.

“Yeah, tomorrow.”

[soulwillower]

how to remember • ben hanscom

(ben hanscom x plus size!reader)

requested: Hi! Can I request a Ben Hanscom x plus size reader, if you're ok with that? The reader is the youngest member of the losers club who had a crush on Ben. When the losers reunite she realises that she still like him but believes that he would never go with her. Angst with a fluffy ending, thanks!

i love ben! i hope u enjoy!!

warning: swearing, a little angst, fluff :) also unedited

[everyone’s aged up! this takes place during chapter 2]

2.1k words

♡

you walk into the back room of the jade of the orient apprehensively, totally unsure of that's going to happen or, frankly, who's even waiting for you on the other side of the wall. you walk into the room to find three men who turn and look at you. you blink at their familiar and yet strange faces - you feel completely removed from them and yet somehow completely connected. you recognize mike hanlon, who had called you last night to summon you. there was a pit in your stomach. "y/n." mike says, and you pull him into a hug, smiling into his shoulder.

"m-mike." you stutter, memories of a smiling, laughing boy driving you around in his pickup truck and stargazing with you on your roof coming back to you slowly. "y/n?" you hear and you stare at the two, your face melting into a grin as you recognize them, "eddie? bill?" you ask and they laugh in disbelief. you pull them in for hugs, remembering all those late nights on bill's roof, building forts and playing chicken with eddie and so many childhood memories previously abandoned.

a gong makes you all jump and turn towards the entrance of the room. your jaw drops as eddie calls out something stupid. you're distracted though, because your world has just stopped.

first, it's just a name. ben hanscom.

next, you lock eyes with a man and his eyes make flashes of blushing grins, old books, walk-mans, and laughter fill your memory. you can't breathe.

and then, memories hit you like a ton of fucking bricks. you blanch, feeling your chest fill with ice. ben's lost a lot of weight and has definitely gained some back in muscle. he looks relatively the same, though. the same kind eyes, the same smile, the same soft voice that you fell in love with-

holy shit.

you had loved him. it all comes back to you and as he pulls you into a tight hug, his hand rubbing your back the way it always used to, you almost want to cry.

you remember when you met him, that summer in '98 when you'd made the blood oath. you can't remember why you were all there in the sewers of derry, or why all you can recall are feelings complete terror and fear; but you can remember ben's jokes, the way he used to walk you home, and the years that you and him spent together with the others in the clubhouse at the middle school, and then the high school.

you remember how shy you used to feel whenever richie would tease the two of you. you remember in high school how ben would drive you to and from school since you didn't get your license until a year after them, or the hours you spent hanging around the library with ben during his shifts, messing around with eddie or reading patiently for ben to clock out.

you remember the hours that you spent in anxiety and self disappointment over an unrequited love. ben was ben, and you were just you.

and you remember how lost you were when they all left. you were a year younger, so when they graduated and left to meet all of their separate futures, you were stuck in the awful town by yourself, not sure if you'd ever see them again. you barely remember saying goodbye to him, wanting to tell him you loved him but knowing he could never love you back. but you vaguely remember that you'd given him the photo that'd been taken of you guys in the photo booth at the arcade as a parting gift, your cheeks wet as he promised he'd come back and visit.

he never did, though.

but now, ben pulls away from your hug and effectively breaks the trance you'd been lulled into. "it's been so long," he says warmly. "you look just how i remember you." he says softly and certainly not unkindly. but your stomach still twists at his words, that familiar insecurity creeping up on you. "oh, yeah." you say with a fake laugh, trying not to look hurt by his words as you tuck your hair behind your ear. "you- um, you look great." you say with a smile. he returns it, "so do you, y/n/n."

you still get butterflies when he uses your childhood nickname.

"y/n." you hear in a whisper, and you turn to see beverly marsh - how could you have ever forgotten her? she pulls you into a tight hug, just like she used to when you were younger. your heart hurt.

the dinner was going smoothly, all of you downing drinks and rowdily spewing out your childhood memories right when they came to you. "didn't... y/n, didn't you work at that one diner? and haystack used to always play new kids on the block on the jukebox!" richie says, pointing to you. you raise your eyebrows as you remember, "wow, yeah... i got fired because i wouldn't wear the uniform." you say, remembering with a sheepish expression.

you'd stopped trying to fit into the ugly uniforms that your shitty manager made everyone wear, because he refused to buy them in the size that fit you. he'd said that you needed to 'solve the problem himself,' and you'd felt like shit for his words. it was terrible, but nobody else who worked there stood up for you. to them you were a loser, of course.

but you also remember when you'd told the losers and stan had gotten so mad that he'd started tearing up, richie and eddie went to egg the diner, bev and mike dumped shakes on the floor in front of the manager, and mike and bill had sent countless letters filled with very... untasteful doodles of the manager on them. he'd also reported him, though, and the losers actually got him fired. it was good to know that they were always there for you, even though you felt awful after what had happened - but they helped you learn to love yourself.

you remember that ben had found you the night you'd been fired, sitting at the quarry with tears leaking out of your eyes. he hadn't done anything except put his arm around you, letting you cry as he rubbed your back. he'd brought cookies and so you shared them under the moonlight and you remember thinking that you were invincible, the eight of you. forever.

now, as richie brings up ben's weight loss, you play with your fork on your plate, feeling hollow. you were so happy and very glad (although nervous) to be back with them. you watch as bev and ben catch eyes and you suddenly realize that even if you still love him, it doesn't matter.

for the same reason it never would have mattered if you'd said those words all those years ago. you couldn't be enough for him.

ben was just as perfect now as he was then - passionate, dedicated, teasing but in a gentle way, and above all caring. as you and the others reminisce in your memories, you accept that you'll never get to be with ben, and you feel like you're living through this heartbreak all over again.

as you pace in the lobby of the inn, you run your hands through your hair and try to calm your breathing. stan was gone. he was gone, you'd been attacked by fucking demon fortune cookies, and you just remembered your entire childhood. including the terrorizing demon clown who ate children and tried to kill you when you were thirteen. how did you guys get through that? you can't believe anything that's happening. "y/n." ben's voice makes you snap your head up, your breathing ragged. "y-yeah?" you ask, your voice cracking. you clear your throat though, nodding to yourself. this is okay, you've gotten through so much shit in your life, you can get through this too.

"so...you were a year younger right?" ben asks, making you look up. you nod, resisting the urge to point out that you still are. he takes a breath, "what- uh, what happened when i left? i can't remember why we didn't keep in touch."

you feel sick to your stomach and you shrug dejectedly, "i don't really remember. i didn't really talk to anybody my senior year because.... well... you guys were all gone and never called. i didn't understand what had happened, but everyone else in town..." you trail off. ben knows just as well as you that the people in derry did not take kindly to the losers club, especially back in those times when people's bodies could make them an easy target. it was fucked up. "yeah, i don't really remember much." you finish. it's quiet for a moment.

"i don't understand how i could have forgotten you." he says quietly, sounding bewildered. you blush but you shake your head. "it's not your fault. something weird happens when you leave this town." you say, eyes trained on your legs. you wanted to cry. "what, and that makes it okay?” ben says softly, sitting next to you on the staircase. your stomach hollows when his hand falls on your back, just like old times, and you shake your head. "well, i guess." you mutter, shrugging. you never really looked at it from that perspective.

"i'm so, so sorry." he says and you shake you're head. this was all too much. the boy that you loved - the man that you still love - is sitting next to you, right there for you to hold. you've lost him once before and you never want that to happen again, but you know he's not yours to hold.

you pull your face into your hands, shaking your head. "y/n, what's wrong? i mean- today has been crazy, i get it. how can i help?" he asks and you want to chuckle and scream and cry all at once. he's still the same kind and caring person, even after all this time. "it's okay, ben. i'm sorry, this is just... a lot." your voice is watery and weak.

"i keep trying to remember all this stuff from back then... but all i can remember is being around you. you were the most amazing kid, y/n. i looked up to you so much, you were so full of life and you were so funny, i just feel like... i just-" he cuts himself off, rubbing his face with his hand. your

"hey, it's okay, ben. it's me, i'm no stranger." you say lightly, making you both chuckle at the irony of your statement. but your smiles melts and you realize you're becoming too hopeful, knowing you're about to have your heart broken as he opens his mouth.

“y/n...i feel like i've missed out on a whole lifetime with you.” he says quietly. your stomach flips as you look at him, his hand coming up to your cheek. your eyes meet and his honey ones are searching yours for something, desperation and adoration swimming through them. "ben, what are you saying?" you whisper, watching as his eyes flicker to your lips and your stomach flutters like you were about to have your first kiss all over again.

"i'm saying i think i've loved you since we were thirteen." he says with a swallow and you beam. he's still staring at you and you bite your lip. "ben, i love you too." you whisper. he smiles, his hand rubbing your cheek with a fond smile.

he leans in slowly, allowing time for you to lean back, but as soon as your lips are touching he's surging forward, pressing his body to yours. his lips are warm and soft on yours and you almost want to cry. you feel like even though everything is crazy, ben is the one constant - he's the one that got away. but he's here now, he loves you, he always has, despite everything. or because of everything. he kisses you like he loves you. you know he does.

"oh, hey! this is new." a voice breaks the peace as eddie's feet land in front of you. as you and ben pull away from each other, you're both grinning sheepishly but you're slightly annoyed that eddie interrupted you. eddie plows through in his classic panicked fashion. "hate to bother you, but can you guys come in here for a sec? we've got a little problem." he says breathlessly. you roll your eyes but ben stands, watching as eddie walks back into the other room.

he pulls you up and towards his chest and you blush darkly at your proximity. he leans towards you again though, catching your lips with his in a deep, passionate kiss. his hands fall to your hips, pulling you even closer and you try not to gasp at the feeling of his lips on yours. your hands wrap around his neck and you pull away, biting your lip as you look at him. he smiles at you, whispering softly, "let's go," before slipping his hand into yours and following eddie.

you waited more than thirty years for this, and you think it was worth every fucking second.  

[octoberobserver]

I recently had a dream about a plot for a fic where reddie get a duck from mike on their wedding day and the note makes it seem like it’s meaningful to their relationship and they spend their whole honeymoon trying to figure out what the deep meaning of this duck is and it turns out stan and bev dared mike to do it to fuck w/ them and when i woke up i immediately was like SOMEONE HAS TO WRITE THIS and i immediately thought of you! (literally u don’t have to it’s just funny how i thought of you)

Hi Nonnie! This *probably* isn’t what you had in mind, but I hope you like it anyway ^_^ ♥️

Your Love Life’s DOA (read on ao3)

“...a chick.” 

“Pretty sure it’s a cock, dude.”

“It’s a chicken, asswipe. Cocks are roosters.” 

“Huh. And here I thought cocks were—”

“Don’t,” Eddie Kaspbrak held up his hands, cutting Richie Tozier off mid-terrible-joke. 

Richie just smirked, his eyes alight in a way that never failed to make Eddie’s stomach swoop.

“Cock, chicken, whatever it is,” he waved dismissively with the hand not cradling the miniature poultry, “it’s cute as fuck.”  

Eddie stared at Richie staring down at the (probable) baby chicken, warmth spreading across his chest. 

He only basked in the feeling for .2 seconds however as the irritation he had felt this morning when he opened the door to go grab their mail and nearly stomped on the little feather-ball, made a swift resurgence. 

“But why the fuck was it outside our door?”

“...”

“Richie.”

“...”

“Rich.” 

“...”

“Trashmouth!” 

Richie’s head snapped up from where he had been gazing down at the chick that looked comically small in his ridiculously large hand. 

Eddie’s treacherous stomach did an impressive (if annoying) front handspring. 

“I don’t know, Eds. Maybe it was meant for the butcher shop down the street. Or a petting zoo,” he tilted his head, looking pensive, “maybe it’s Erica Delaney getting her sweet revenge on me after I broke our egg-son in the first five minutes of class. Or it’s the chicken god’s gift to us to raise in his image, fucked if I know. All I do know is,” he shrugged, gently, with one shoulder as to not jostle the chirping baby bird, “we're definitely keeping it.” 

Eddie blinked.

“We can’t keep a chicken in the apartment, Richie.”

Richie’s eyebrows raised halfway up his expansive forehead.

“Why not? I own the building, and I say it’s all good for lil Chick-Fil-A to stay.”

“We’re not naming it after a homophobic chicken restaurant, dickwad.” 

A slow smile spread across Richie’s face that had Eddie’s pulse simultaneously racing and screeching to a halt. 

“...But we are keeping it?”

Fuck.

~*~

“Chicken Little?”

“No.”

“Chicken Run.”

“What?”

“Chick Flick.”

“Hell no.”

“Oh! Wait! I got it - Chicken Carbonara! Carbs for short.” 

“You’re an idiot.” 

“I agree,” Stanley Uris piped up as he meandered his way over to where Eddie and Richie (baby chick loudly making her presence known in his shirt pocket) were arguing at the sink, glass in hand, topping up Patty’s Merlot.

“You don’t have a horse in this race, Staniel,” Richie dismissed his input, gently running a finger over the chick’s fuzzy head, adopting a sickening sweet baby voice, “Isn’t that right, Carbs? Uncle Stan the Man wouldn’t know a good nickname if it kicked him in the face.” 

“Coming from the man called ‘Trashmouth.’” 

“Eds gave me that name, so blame him,” Richie quirked an eyebrow, elbowing the man in question. 

Eddie’s Chardonnay tipped dangerously close to the rim of the glass. 

Richie ignored his murderous glare. 

“Now all we need,” Richie beamed with pride as ‘Carbs’ gave another loud chirp from her cloth perch, “...is a duck.” 

Eddie winced, “You need to stop binge-watching Friends, Rich. Who are we, Joey and Chandler?” 

“Dibs on Chandler!”

Eddie rolled his eyes, gesturing up and down at Richie. 

“Well duh.” 

Richie merely smirked, tilting his head at him, “You’re definitely more of a Monica than a Joey, though.” 

“So in this scenario, you two are married?”

Both Eddie and Richie whirled around to blink at Stan who had attracted the attention of the rest of the Losers, each now awaiting some sort of response with rising interest. 

Eddie refused to give one. 

He also refused to look at Richie not give one. 

“Ooh we’re playing the Which Friends Character Are You game, huh?” Richie asked, stepping around Stan, eyes still focussed on the chick. 

Stan rolled his eyes, “There’s eight of us, it doesn’t work.” 

“Spoken like a true Ross.” 

Stan shook his head and sighed.

Like the Ross he was.

“Alright, I’m game,” Bev piped up, raising her glass from across the room, her eyes glinting at Richie. 

“Do your worst, Trashmouth.” 

Richie smirked, clearly tickled by the challenge. 

“Alright, Marsh,” he cleared his throat, beginning to pace the room like Columbo at the end of every episode, where he explained how he solved the whole damn case with nothing but a moved potted plant, “You’re Phoebe obviously, because you’re a fiery but lovable enigma who’s cooler than all of us combined.”

Bev chuckled, “Damn straight.”

“Haystack here,” Richie whirled around, cradling Carbs to his chest in one hand and pointing with the other, “is our Joey for his actor good-looks and lovable nature.” 

Ben sank down into the couch next to Bev, picking up her socked-feet and rubbing them, “I’ll take it.” 

Bev grinned, “I did always think Joey and Phoebe should’ve got together. Although Paul Rudd was great.”

“Which leads me to,” Richie turned to his left, smirking.

“Oh no,” Mike held up his hands, “count me out. Black people weren’t even a thing on Friends until like season 9 or whatever so—”

“Oh yeah, the diversity sucks ass Mikey, no one’s disputing that,” Richie agreed with a nod, “but hear me out. You’re Mike, Mike! A sexy, African-American Paul Rudd. Think about it...you may come in late in the game but you win everyone over instantly with your good looks, nerdy charm and wicked air-piano skills! Just like you did with the Losers Club!” 

Mike blinked, amused.

Stan tilted his head.

“I don’t think that’s exactly—”

“Same with Patty!” 

Richie cut Stan off, clearly on a roll, whirling around to point at his wife.

“It feels like she’s always been with us, right?” he asked the group at large, smile pleased when everyone nods in agreement, Bev winding an arm around her from where she was perched on the arm of the couch, causing Patty to flush and grin behind her wine glass at the compliment. 

“And you know who was always with the Friends? Always there, like an honorary 7th member? Or 8th in this case?” 

Eddie rolled his eyes, not quite believing he was going to participate in this.

“Gunther.” 

Richie winked, “Gold star for Kaspbrak.” 

“She does make a mean Cappuccino,” Stan mumbled almost absentmindedly as Patty gave her charming snort-laugh, letting her head rest against her husband’s shoulder as he stood next to the couch. 

“Which leaves…”

Richie slowly turned on the spot, like the dramatic bastard he was. 

“Congrats, Bill. You’re Rachel. Our Jen Aniston. People are gonna start copying your hairstyle soon.” 

Bill chuckled, “Yeah, don’t think ‘The Bill’ has quite the same ring to it, Rich.” 

Richie gave a dismissive wave. 

“It’ll catch on. Then you’ll become a mega movie star and forget the rest of us exist. Except for Eddie, of course.”

Bill frowned.

“Why just Eddie?”

Richie threw him an exasperated look.

“Because he’s Monica! Courteney Cox. Best friend of Jen to this day. Duh.” 

“So you two are married, then?” 

Eddie felt his throat tighten as Richie squared his shoulders at Stanley, gently putting Carbs in her bed before huffing out a laugh.

“Nah man, we’re still in the friends-who-help-friends-give-their-dates-orgasms-in-seven-steps, stage.” 

Stan rolled his eyes.

“Right.” 

Eddie watched as the two friends stared at one another, a weird tension draping over them.

And in true Phoebe-style, Bev broke it.

“Hey, who wants to hear my Smelly Cat rendition?” 

Richie’s analysis was flawed, of course. Bill didn’t know jack about fashion (that was Bev), Ben built stages not performed on them, Stan actually loved, cherished and respected his partner, Patty wasn’t desperately in unrequited love with Bill (that was Mike, though it was requited), Mike wasn’t married to Bev (that was Ben) and Bev…

Well.

Bev was spot on, actually. A riddle, wrapped in an enigma, shrouded in mystery, all while being simultaneously cool and lovable. 

And Eddie?

He was Monica Geller and proud of it, dammit.

A damn shame Courteney never got the Emmy-nom, in his opinion. 

As for Richie?

Richie wasn’t Chandler Bing. Chandler Bing was Richie Tozier.

“If only they had let Chandler be gay,” Richie sighed wistfully as Eddie closed the door, waving off the last of their guests, Bill and Mike as they hopped in an Uber headed for Casa Denbrough. 

“Why? So you could fuck Ben instead?” 

Eddie knew how his voice sounded as he slowly leaned back against the door, reaching out to pull Richie towards him by his collar, crashing their lips together in a bruising kiss that he had ached for all night. 

Richie gasped into his mouth, his hands roaming Eddie’s body like a hyperactive octopus, pressing him back against the door and rolling his bottom lip between his teeth.

Eddie groaned, breaking the kiss, staring up at his best-friend-turned-secret-boyfriend. 

“So, when do we tell them we hooked up at Ben and Bev’s wedding?” 

Richie chuckled, leaning down and pressing his lips against Eddie’s neck, right over the spot he knew drove him crazy, breathing hot against his skin. 

“Not until I ask Bill for his eyelash curler and Ben figures us out. Duh.”

~*~

They really should have been all fucked out after three weeks of eating, drinking, sleeping and sex-ing in Barbados, and yet, as soon as they got back to their apartment, they christened their old bed, their leaking shower and the living room floor because they just couldn’t get enough of each other.

Married.

They were fucking married.

Husbands. 

Legally bound.

Til death—

No, not even death could stop them. They proved that already.

“You’re heavy,” Eddie groaned, his chest vibrating under where Richie had his face squished against it. 

“It’s all the Barbadian food, dude. S’gone straight to my thighs.”

Eddie brushed his hand along said thigh, squeezing roughly.

“Hmm. I like your thighs.” 

“I like you.”

“You better. You’re kinda stuck with me now.”

Richie lifted his head off Eddie’s sweaty chest, smiling softly, interlocking their left hands, pressing their rings together. 

“Guess my love life isn’t D.O.A anymore, huh.” 

Eddie groaned, and not in the sexy way he had been five minutes before. 

“Those Friends references grew old in the nineties, dude. Stop.”  

Richie pecked at his lips, letting out a sound of disagreement. 

“I’ll have you know, Eds, I—”

The unmistakable sound of a knock echoed throughout the apartment. 

They blinked at one another.

“Who the fuck is that? No one knows we’re home yet.”

The post-Honeymoon-fuck had come (heh) above all - including texting the group chat that they had made it back safely onto California soil. 

Marriage had made them selfish like that.

Eddie shrugged, “I don’t know. Could be Rosa dropping off Carbs. I did tell her we’d be back today, and she might have like...sensed us. You know what she’s like.”

Rosa was their downstairs neighbour, a lovable, elderly woman who seemed to have had a sixth sense for everything Richie and Eddie-related even before they had become a couple, often calling them out for the pining bullshit before they got their act together, got tipsy at Benverly’s wedding and jumped each other. 

Or as Richie put it once - “She high-key ships us, man. Wants us to bone it out.” 

To this day, Eddie had no idea what that meant. 

Another knock came, this one louder.

“Alright, I’m coming,” Eddie called out, pushing a whining Richie off his chest before he could make the obvious joke and forcing himself to sit up, grimacing as the sheet stuck to his back. 

He’d have to be the one to answer. No way he was unleashing a half-naked Richie onto Mrs Hernandez. 

Eddie actually had the decency to pull on sweatpants and an old Trashmouth-tee before padding to the door.

He knew his husband did not.

Husband.

Eddie smiled to himself, his stomach doing its usual somersaults that he knew would never fully disappear. 

Richie Tozier, his lifelong best friend, was now his husband too. 

Crazy. 

“Sorry Rosa, we were—”

His incredibly made-up-on-the-spot excuse died on his lips as he opened the front door to reveal - nothing. 

Frowning, Eddie stared into the empty air, turning his head to glance down the very vacant hallway.

And then, he heard it.

Quack! 

“Oh, not again.” 

“Duck!” 

Richie said it like fuck.

Like he had been human-autocorrected.

“Yes, Richie, I see that,” Eddie sighed at his husband who had appeared over his shoulder, still shirtless, staring down at the baby duck sitting pretty in a box, much like Carbs had two years before.

“We’re not naming him Daffy,” Eddie grumbled, bending down to gently pick up the box, cradling the duckling against his chest and kicking the door shut.

Richie opened his mouth.

“Or Donald.” 

Richie closed his mouth. 

One quack called Donald was enough. 

“We’ll brainstorm,” Richie grinned, leaning down and capturing Eddie’s lips, before softly patting the new addition to their family on the head.

They’d find the note later. The one that read, 

To Chandler and Monica, 

You two were the last to find out.

Not Stan. 

Here’s a brother for Carbs.

We left her with you as a prank, for Richie’s Friends obsession, but you became the best dads ever instead. You’ll do it again. 

Just don’t get them stuck in the Foosball Table. 

~The Losers

[trashxqueen]

Friends to Lovers (Richie Tozier x reader)

Request - Hello lovely! I just read your headcannon about dating Richie Tozier and it was sooooo cute! I loved it! Could you do an imagine about a friends to lovers with Richie? Like maybe they’re in high school and they’re both pining after each other but they don’t know the feeling is mutual so the losers set them up on a blind date and they both (Richie mostly) get all blushy and cute? Thank you sooo much and I hope you have a wonderful day! 💕

(A/n) Thank you!! I tried my best but I still haven’t written a lot of fanfiction so it’s kinda crappy sorry. I tried to write Bill’s stutter as best I could but I didn’t really know how so I hope it’s okay. Also I turned into a thing where like the reader doesn't know who shes going on a date with but Richie does, I’m sorry im terrible at this lmao.

(n/n - nickname)

y/n’s pov

Since day one, Richie Tozier and I have been the best of friends. We’ve done everything together and it’s always so much fun, between our weekly Saturday movie nights to waiting till the last possible moment to do science projects. He taught me how to play videos and ride a bike. We are inseparable.

The only problem is, I’ve been in love with him the entire time. Even though we aren’t together, he’s always made me feel special and happy. The only person that knew of my crush was my close friend Beverly Marsh.

“n/n you need to tell him how you feel! You obviously both love each other, he’s just too shy to say anything,” Beverly said sitting on her bed while you sat on her floor.

“Really Bev, Richie? Too shy? Literally two weeks ago in lunch he stood up on a chair and screamed the chorus of “Total Eclipse of the Heart” cause Eddie dared him to, he’s not too shy to do anything he just doesn’t like me like that.”

“You’re full of shit y/n but fine. If you truly believe he doesn’t like you then whatever. But I can’t stand to see you upset so I’m gonna set you up on a blind date tonight.”

“Please don’t, I’m perfectly happy ignoring my problems and also tonight is my movie night with Richie.”

Beverly rolled her eyes, “You can miss it just once, he’ll understand, please y/n, I won’t stop bothering you about this.”

“Fine! But I’m not going to like it and if he tries anything I will punch him.”

“That’s my girl! Now let’s go pick out some nice clothes for later.”

…

Third person pov

Richie sat at home thinking about what he was going to do without y/n tonight. He’d just gotten a call from her saying she was going to have to miss movie night because she was going on a date; he was upset. He had been in love with her for so long but never thought she loved him back so he always kept quiet about it.

The doorbell began to ring so he went up to answer it given he was the only one home. As he opened the door, Bill, Ben and Eddie walked in and immediately began talking.

“Okay so you’re gonna take her to that Diner on Ford street and what the hell are you wearing you’re not wearing sweatpants on a date what is wrong with you-” Eddie began ranting before Richie cut him off.

“Eddie what the fuck are you talking about, I’m not going on a date with anyone I don’t even like anyone.”

“B-bullshit Richie, e-everyone knows you’ve liked y-y/n for f-forever,” Bill retorted, “A-also we’ve arranged for y-you to go on a date w-with y/n tonight.”

“Yeah but she doesn’t know it’s you, it’s gonna be a surprise, Bev planned it,” Ben stated.

“No, there’s no way I’m doing this! She doesn’t even like me, there’s no point and I’m just gonna embarrass myself and she’ll end up hating me,” Richie protested.

“Yeah well tough shit Richie. Beverly told Bill she liked you and she’s already agreed to the date. It doesn’t matter that she doesn’t know it’s you, she’ll be so happy when she sees you! You have to agree, how’s she gonna feel when she gets there and no one else is there huh? She’ll feel like shit, you have to go, you both have been pining after each other for years now so you’re going, end of story.” Eddie stated before walking into Richie’s room to look at the clothes in his closet.

“Fine, but if she hates me after this, this is on you guys,” Richie finally agreed walking into his room.

Ben and Bill smiled at each other before following Richie, getting him ready for later tonight.

…

y/n’s pov

“Oh my god n/n you look so cute!” Beverly exclaimed smiling.

I looked at myself in the mirror and smiled. ( http://pic-collage.com/_tJGdT93e ) I did look pretty but I’d rather be wearing sweatpants and sitting next to Richie binge watching movies together. There was one time he put his arm around me and I melted.

“Thanks Bev, but do I have to do this?”

“Damn right you do. Just trust me I promise you’ll love it.”

I rolled my eyes and signed, “Fine, let’s go.”

…

No one’s pov

Beverly and y/n pulled into the parking lot of the dinner and y/n got out nervously.

“Remember he’s wearing black dress pants, a white button up shirt, black tie and he has glasses,” Beverly said, “Have fun girly!”

y/n walked into the diner looking at all the tables looking for her “mystery date” until she settled on a familiar face.

“Richie is that you, why are you here?” She said looking at her best friend.

Richie looked up nervously blushing with some red roses in his hand.

“H-hey y/n, you look beautiful and I am here as your date,” he stared at y/n blushing furiously.

She looked at him in shock before smiling and sitting across from him.

“These are for you,” Richie said handing her the roses.

“Thanks Rich but, what’s going on?”

“Well,” Richie looked down at the table before continuing, “I really like you y/n, actually I think, wait no, I know I love you and I have been in love with you for forever. I-I guess Bill and Beverly knew and wanted to set us up. And oh my fuck you really do look so pretty tonight holy shit. You’re so kind and smart and funny and I’ve never loved anyone before but I know I love you. You- you’re my world and-”

y/n cut him off by placing her hand on his and looked at him softly.

“Rich, calm down you sound like Bill, I love you too and I’m so fucking happy to hear you feel the same, I’ve loved you since the day I met you,” y/n stared into his eyes before glancing down to his lips.

He looked back at her and began to smile before leaning in placing his lips on her own. It was a gentle soft kiss, that made the two of them melt.

“n/n will you be my girl?” Richie asked after pulling away.

“Of course I would,” she replied.

“Oh hell yeah!”

Richie and y/n looked across the diner to see Beverly, Ben, Eddie and Bill sitting together staring at the new couple. Eddie face was extremely red realizing he just blew the four’s cover and they all got up and ran out of the diner.

The couple returned their gazes to each other before laughing.

“Well this is a great start to a first date,” said the boy.

“It certainly is,” y/n replied lacing her fingers with Richie’s smiling softly at her new lover. The blushing couple leaned back in for another kiss before spending the night together.

[reddielibrary]

Secret Santa: Rey | @heknewwellenough

Gift for: Mary | @allahlav

Special Message: Surprise I’m your secret santa hehe. I hope you enjoy this, sweetie!! I hope you have a happy holiday as well, and a great new year!!! Mwah

Word count: 3,113

“Almost seventeen and you still don’t know how to tie your fucking shoelaces.”

Richie scoffs, kicking his feet into the air as he swings his legs back and forth from where he is sitting on the countertop. “At least I didn’t wear Velcro shoes until I was thirteen.” He aims a kick at Eddie’s arm where Eddie is digging into the small first aid kit.

“Yeah, but at least I can tie my shoelaces. You— on the other hand— fall on your face every other day. It’s like you want to trip.” Eddie retorts. He manages to find a cotton ball in the jumble of items in the little first aid kit, smiling triumphantly. He grabs the hydrogen peroxide bottle from where it’s standing next to the stool that he sits on and twists open the cap, placing the cotton ball against the mouth of the bottle and pours a generous amount onto it.

“You know me so well, toots. Why wouldn’t I want to trip and fall on my ass, with the treatment you give me?”

Eddie scratches behind his ear, tucking a lock of hair behind it. He looks in front of him at Richie’s bloodied knee and starts to dab at it with the cotton ball. “And at least I don’t wear fucking shorts in December. You’re insane. You’re going to freeze to death. And toots, hm? What do I gotta do to make you stop calling me names?” He leers. He hopes Richie won’t take it entirely seriously— he probably won’t, with a track record like his, but the small feeling that he will lingers in the back of Eddie’s head and refuses to diminish.

“I don’t think there’s anything you can do, Eds, to make me quit— ow, shit—” he hisses as Eddie starts to apply the cotton ball more forcefully, hands gripping the edge of the counter and matching the stark white of the marble, “can’t believe you don’t appreciate my nicknames. They’re picked thoughtfully and with care, no lie.”

“Mm, okay. What about the others then? What’re theirs?” Eddie asks, almost absentmindedly.

“The others? Well, Bill’s is Big Bill, of course. For obvious reasons—“ he wiggles his brows as Eddie chances a look up at him and frowns.

Eddie’s brows crease in the middle. He starts to prod at Richie’s knee a little more forcefully than necessary, agitation settling in every crook and corner of his mind. The thoughts floating in Eddie’s mind irk him. He knows Richie talks about anything below the belt frequently— regardless of gender— but it still makes him feel a little queasy when Richie talks about his friend’s under-the-belt-parts unaccompanied. Without them and all. “Like you’ve ever seen Bill’s dick.” He glares at Richie’s knee, avoiding his gaze that he can feel boring into the top of his head.

“I wasn’t talking about his little Jimmy, heathen. I meant it ‘cause he’s tall.”

“Not as tall as you.” Eddie says automatically. Thoughtlessly. And alright, that wasn’t what he meant to say at all. He blushes slightly, avoiding Richie’s gaze that he can almost feel piercing his skull.

“Not as tall as me, huh? Guess I should be Big Rich, then?” Eddie can practically hear the giddy smile in Richie’s voice. He doesn’t need to look up to know the joke that’s coming next. “Or Big Dick—“

Eddie groans. “That truly was the worst joke imaginable. That took the cake.” He can’t help the small laugh that bubbles up his throat as he opens a bandage and places it steadily on Richie’s knee.

Richie stretches out his leg, flexing it and staring at the large PacMan patterned bandage. “I didn’t finish the others.”

Eddie looks up from where he was staring at it too, looking at Richie. “Hm?”

Richie rolls his eyes. “The nicknames, Eds. Get with the program, toots.”

“Oh, right,” Eddie nods, but then a thought occurs to him, and he squints up at Richie, frowning, “all of our names are already nicknames, though. So technically these are nicknames of nicknames.”

Richie waves him off, making a funny pft noise. “These are classier, Eds.”

“Okay, well,” Richie situates himself on the counter, folding his hands together on his thighs, businesslike, “Stan is Stan the Man because he’s basically a mini-man. Stanley the Manley,” he counts down on his fingers, looking up and frowning, his tongue sticking out between his red wired braces, “Bev is Miss Marsh because she’s a lady,” the word lady had the unfortunate bringing of a horribly done English accent as Richie counted down three on his right hand, “and ladies are misses. My dear Benjamin is Haystack because, well—“

Eddie rolls his eyes with a slight frown. He looks down at the printed reindeer on his fleece pajamas, flexing his fingers on his knees. “That one’s kinda mean, Richie.”

Richie shrugs. “Well, you wanna live a lie your whole life, Eds? You’re short, Stanley’s uptight, I’m a sexy piece a’ meat, and Ben’s pretty large. I don’t tell anything but truths, my love.”

Eddie can’t help but laugh, but he quickly covers it up with a cough when Richie looks triumphant. “Continue, then,” he says, still coughing slightly.

“Okay, well,” he rubs his hands together quickly and continues on, “my dear beautiful Michael is Homeschool, you know, cause he was homeschooled. And you, Eddie, are Eds, Eddie Spaghetti, regular ol’ Spaghetti, my love, my dear, and a cutie.” He finishes, pretending to take a slight bow.

Eddie can feel himself getting warm as he looks up at Richie. Nicknames are Richie’s specialty, one could say, but the excessive amount of Eddie’s is alarming; Eddie doesn’t think it matters how much you specialize in nicknames. He can’t decide if it’s a good thing or a bad thing. “Why do I have so many and the others don’t?”

“Because you’re a special work of pasta, Eds. You’re the meatball on top of a good plate of spaghetti, the sauce to my noodle—“ he wiggles his brows suggestively and lunges down to place a smack of a kiss on Eddie’s cheek. He nearly topples them to he floor with the applied force of the kiss.

“Oh my God, get off, dorkus—“ Eddie wriggles out of Richie’s surprisingly strong grip. “Can’t have you getting another injury, right?” He chuckles, nervously. A blush dots his cheeks and he looks away, spotting the peroxide and placing it into the first aid kit, shutting it and fiddling with the handle on top. He looks up and stares at Richie’s knee, snorting as a thought occurs to him. “You’re such a dumbass. Out in the snow with shorts on. I can’t believe you.”

Eddie can see Richie shrug out of the corner of his eye. “It’s not that cold out. The only trouble I had was my knee hurting like a bitch when I fell. Plus, I was planning on changing.”

“Into what?”

“PJs, stupid.” He says with a little kick to Eddie’s pajama-clad knee. “They’re not as sexy as yours but they’re getting there.”

Eddie giggles, standing up slightly abruptly. He braces his hands on Richie’s shoulders, swaying slightly. He hadn’t banked on being so close to Richie when he stood up, but now Richie was right there. Personal space pretty much gone.

“Well, hello there,” Richie says, also steadying Eddie. He’s gripping Eddie’s arms, smiling stupidly. Endearingly.

Eddie swallows, gazing at Richie’s slowly pinking cheeks. His eyes sway to the curls poking Richie’s cheeks, and then to the curls that seem to constantly be bouncing on top of his head. They need a cut, wildly curling over his forehead and eyebrows, swooping down on to his temples and tucking behind his ears slightly.

“You should probably get a haircut,” Eddie blurts.

“I don’t want a haircut.”

“I don’t want you to get a haircut, either.”

Richie grins. “Then I won’t get one.”

Eddie nods thoughtfully, extracting himself from Richie’s grip weakly.

“Wait!” Richie says loudly. His hands slide down to Eddie’s wrists, gripping them. He smiles widely, and he leans forward slightly, excitedly, and it looks— feels like he might— might —

But Eddie doesn’t let his mind venture that far— can’t let his mind venture that far. The slight speed up of his heart rate means absolute shit. Eddie wasn’t even aware that Richie had access to his heart until now.

“I— hmf, what, Richie?” Eddie says frustratedly, staring at Richie’s knobby fingers wrapped around his own wrists.

“Can you make me a hot chocolate?” He whispers, bending down to look into Eddie’s eyes with that smile that makes it feel like Eddie’s insides have turned into something like jelly. Eddie stares at his braces glittering annoyingly in the artificial light of the bathroom.

Eddie’s eyes flicker between Richie’s, alarmingly embarrassed but hoping his cheeks don’t give him away. “No.”

Richie pouts. A crease forms in between his brows and his nose wrinkles. Eddie stomach twists funnily. Richie shouldn’t be allowed access there, either.

“Please?” He whines, swinging their arms back and forth, please drawn out from his pouty lips.

Eddie cracks a smile and rolls his eyes. “Yes, fine. Just stop being annoying.”

“Great.” Richie grins and hops down from the sink, letting go of one of Eddie’s hands and swinging the other back and forth. “Do you have mini marshmallows?” He asks with a sideways glance, skipping down the hallway.

Eddie’s lips crease in a frown. “You can’t eat marshmallows.”

Richie shrugs, hopping onto the counter once they make it into the kitchen. “What’s life without a little edge, hm?” He purses his lips and raises his brows.

An abrupt laugh escapes Eddie’s lips as he opens the cabinet by Richie’s head. “Living a rebel life, huh?”

“You betcha, toots,” Richie states promptly.

Eddie rifles through the cabinet, looking for marshmallows and Nesquik powder, when he feels a slight kick to his hip. “You know I’m trying to get your hot chocolate started, right?”

“Si, si. Of course Eds. Estoy muy agradecido—“ Eddie can’t see his face, but he knows he’s smiling like a goon. That stupid smile.

Eddie rolls his eyes, but contradicts it with a triumphant smile when he finds what he’s looking for in their messy cabinet. “Can you stop flaunting your Spanish grade and tell me what you want?” There’s no bite to it, but he says it with a slight scratching tone.

“I wanted to know if you could make it foamy the way you do.” Richie says, hopping off the counter. “Also, I’m going to go change. Don’t wait up for me, sweetheart!” He presses a fleeting kiss to Eddie’s cheek and bounds out of the room, presumably to the bathroom to change into something more suitable of the weather.

Eddie smiles weakly to himself, shaking his head. “Oh, Richie,” he murmurs with a heavy sigh. He digs a small pot out of a drawer by his leg, placing it on the stove and fiddling with the knob to preheat it. He grabs the milk from the fridge and finds a broken up chocolate bar in another cabinet, pouring a good amount of milk into the pot and breaking up a few small chocolate chunks and throwing them into the pot. The Nesquik powder doesn’t make too much of a powdery mess, which he’s grateful for, when he pours some in, and before he knows it he feels a small tap on his hip.

Eddie can’t help but squeal tinily, jumping. He doesn’t look up at Richie, but he hears him laugh boisterously, hopping onto the counter again. “Finished.” Richie says with a toothy grin. He kicks his legs back and forth, peering into the pot and frowning. “That doesn’t look finished yet though…”

“That’s because it’s not even close to finished, dingus. You changed too fast,” Eddie retorts, stirring with a wooden spoon he had grabbed from the drawer next to him. He peers up at Richie finally, smiling at his change of clothes. “I like your pajamas.”

Richie looks down at his legs like he forgot what he was wearing, kicking even higher with a satisfied smile. “What? These old things? Pretty cute, hm?”

Eddie agrees absentmindedly. Richie does look cute, annoyingly so. His faded ringer tee clings to his lanky torso and arms endearingly, washed too many times and kept from middle school, and his own Christmas pajamas aren’t fleece like Eddie’s, but the gingerbread people on them do look soft and the pants themselves look worn and comfortable. Eddie can’t help but stare at him a little longer than intended, making the mistake of looking into Richie’s magnified eyes and the wide smile he’s got on his lips aimed at Eddie’s direction.

Eddie just shakes his head, turning his attention back to the task at hand. He reaches up and opens the cabinet by his head, pulling out a mug and placing it down next to him, then turning off the stove after a couple more stirs of the liquid in the pot.

There’s another kick, this time to the side of his leg. “Thought you said it wasn’t even closed to finished?”

“I lied.” Eddie says simply, taking the pot off the stove and pouring it carefully into the mug. The bag of mini marshmallows is snatched off the counter, half a handful dropped into the steaming mug. “Okay, hear you go. It’s like, super hot so don’t go and burn off your lip like you almost did last time.” He hands Richie the mug carefully, watching as Richie’s gaze turns to something akin to a weird sort of food-induced lust.

Richie breathes heavily, seemingly taking in the steaming fumes, then breathes out. “I think I owe you my life right now.”

Eddie laughs. “You’re welcome.” He leans against the counter, folding his arms across his chest and watching Richie lust over his hot chocolate, when he notices something moving outside. A couple things moving outside, actually.

“It’s snowing,” he states, smiling slightly. He and the snow have a complicated relationship; him believing it to be quite fascinating but never being allowed to play in it like most regular kids. Regular being the keyword.

Richie perks up immediately; his posture straightens and his eyebrows rise up into his hairline. His head turns so fast towards the small window above the sink that Eddie hears a small crack, making him cringe. He hops down from the sink, careful enough that he doesn’t spill his drink, rushing over to the door that leads to the back porch and opening it, beckoning Eddie to follow with and excited glance.

Eddie follows, grabbing the blanket draped around the back of the couch on the way towards the door. He drapes it around himself and follows Richie out the door, shutting it and sitting on the bench under the awning over a small part of the porch. Richie is standing in the middle of the porch, staring up at the sky with his hot chocolate cradled in between his hands. Eddie can only smile at the sweet sight; Richie has always loved snow.

Richie turns around with an face splitting grin, bounding over and sitting next to Eddie. “I can’t believe you don’t have hypothermia.” Eddie drapes part of the blanket over Richie’s shoulders, not exactly disapproving, frowning.

“Guess I���m just lucky.” Richie says, face splitting grin not leaving his face once.

Eddie peers over at him, brushing some hair from his own face. Richie’s lips are redder than ever, and his cheeks are pinker than ever, standing out strikingly in the white background. White flecks are scattered in his jet black hair, caught in his curls and on his nose and on his eyelashes. Toothy grin in place. All seems right in this moment.

So Eddie leans over and does what he thinks fits perfectly in this moment. He kisses him.

Richie’s face would be comical if this were any other situation. But it’s not, so Eddie doesn’t feel the desire to laugh, or smile, or anything really. He feels like hiding, if he were being fully honest.

“I— um, sorry—“ He says, pulling back, awkward and tight sounding. “I didn’t mean—“

But then he feels a press of lips on his, more forceful than he was, and he stops blubbering abruptly.

Richie’s lips are slightly off-centered, and it’s more of a press of lips on lips more than anything, but Eddie couldn’t ask for better. Eddie’s hands make their way to Richie’s cheeks, framing them carefully. Eddie tilts his head to the side, and it’s slightly better; he can taste something on Richie’s mouth, along with the hot chocolate, but he’s not entirely focused on that, until he actually remembers the hot chocolate. He pulls back slightly, looking down at Richie’s empty hands. “What’d you do with the hot chocolate?”

Richie doesn’t answer immediately, looking dazed. He nods to somewhere behind him, shaking his head slightly. “It’s uh— it’s over there.” He answers lightly.

“Oh.” Eddie responds, nodding distractedly. “How’d it get there?”

“Magic,” Richie answers lazily. The look in his eyes is still a little glazed, but he’s smiling again, a lazy smile.

Eddie nods distractedly again, rubbing his thumbs into Richie’s cheeks. His thumbs stretch to Richie’s mouth, pulling it up slightly when he remembers the unidentified taste on Richie’s mouth. “Did you brush your teeth?” He inquires, confused, the fiddling with Richie’s upper lip halting for a moment.

For the first time today a light blush makes its way across Richie’s cheeks and he grins sheepishly. “I was planning on kissing you, actually. Funny coincidence, hm? Small world?”

Eddie shakes his head fondly, snickering. “Not the correct way to use that phrase.”

Richie shrugs. “Tomato tomato. Pish push. It doesn’t matter—” Eddie laughs, loudly, “there are more important things to worry about, like kissing a cute boy while it’s snowing outside and living out the fantasy…?” He trails off with a hopeful glance.

Eddie laughs again, giving him a soft nod, and leaning in again.

Richie’s hands make their way on top of Eddie’s, cold and large and right, and he smiles widely into their kiss.

Now Eddie can say that all seems right in this moment.

[stellarbisexual]

A Memory of Love (2/?)

Summary: Richie and Eddie, who haven’t seen each other since they were kids, get cast as the lead couple in an indie film.

Canon-divergent, Reddie are in their 30s.

Previously: Chapter 1

READ ON AO3

Chapter 2: TABLE READ

When Richie arrives at Greg’s house a few short weeks later, his co-star is already sitting by the pool, just a tuft of fluffy, chestnut hair peeking out over the back of a lounge chair, one bare foot skimming the surface of the water in a hypnotic left-to-right motion.  

“Ah, there’s the love of my life!”  Richie’s booming voice disrupts the quiet, prompting Eddie to peer around the side of the chair, his mouth agape, squinting in the bright sun.

Richie’s heart lurches violently in his chest, nearly taking his breath away, to the point where he makes a mental note to pick up some Prevacid on the way home—but as Eddie unravels himself to approach, one nervous hand righting his hair and the other clutching a curled up copy of an already heavily marked-up script, Richie exes out that note.

He and Eddie didn’t connect before today.  He’d thought about it, but something held him back, maybe a desire to have this moment.

Eddie’s eyes flicker amber in the sunlight as he takes Richie in with a sweet smile.  “Hi, Richie.”

“Long time no see, Eddie Spaghetti.”  The nickname is out of his mouth before he even knows what the hell it is (like most everything else Richie ever says—and he wishes he could blame the improv background), and Eddie giggles, a high, musical thing that inspires Richie to pull him in for a tight hug.  Eddie’s still pretty tiny, his hair tickling Richie’s clavicle.

“You two know each other?”  Greg looks both perplexed and pleased.

Richie tries conjuring an image, anything, from when they were kids, but there’s that black hole again.  He holds Eddie at arm’s length, watching an elaborate cycle of emotions flit across his expressive face, feeling helpless without a key to decipher them.  “We’re both products of Shittown, USA, AKA Derry, Maine.”

“Where dreams go to die,” Eddie says without missing a beat, squinting up at Richie.

*

Richie begins the table read a little nervous and a little on his guard; despite having taken proper acting classes and doing theatre in college, this is still totally new to him, and he fully expects Eddie to make him feel out of his league, not just because Richie’s a lowly fucking comedian but because he’s never had a serious relationship with a man in his life.  He doesn’t expect Eddie to be a dick about it, but he expects him to want to take control and subtly steer him right if he goes off course, maybe even get frustrated with him from time to time.

But there’s no sign of that, at least not today.  Eddie is open and kind, complimentary, even, reassuring Richie You’re so perfect for this role when he makes his first of many self-deprecating remarks before they actually start to read.  Plus, it’s clear three pages into the script that they’re both still just seeing how the words taste in their mouths, taking the pressure off considerably.  

It never occurs to Richie that Eddie might be nervous as hell, too, but he admits just that as they drive away from Greg’s house, the sky beginning to go orange and pink.  Richie’s offered to take him back to his hotel, as Eddie’s only in town for a few days and isn’t getting a rental.

Eddie pushes a big breath out of his mouth.  “I was so fucking nervous about today.”

“You were nervous?”  Richie’s eyebrows shoot up.  “I actually puked this morning.”

“No you didn’t!”  Eddie smacks his shoulder playfully.  

“Scout’s honor,” Richie says, flashing two fingers, his smile threatening to break his face.  “Strap yourself in; the daily embarrassments of Richie Tozier have only just begun.”

Eddie stares at his profile, face naked in a way that nearly tears Richie’s eyes away from the six lanes of freeway traffic.  “I’m really excited we’re working together.” His voice is soft.

For all that Greg has expressed the director’s concern about creating enough intimacy between her two lead actors, it sure feels fucking intimate in Richie’s car right about now.

Richie resists the urge to make a joke, taking a deep breath.  “Me too.” He licks his lips, swallows. “Hey: you wanna get a drink?  I’m not ready to go home yet. Still feel buzzy, like the night after a show.”

Eddie smiles, relaxing into the passenger seat, his body still slightly angled toward Richie’s.  “Sure.”

*

Once they’re settled in at the bar, Richie takes the opportunity to look at Eddie the way he couldn’t in the car, deciding he hadn’t given his face enough credit.  Eddie’s pretty fucking gorgeous, truth be told, all big, sparkling hazel eyes and dark, elegant eyebrows. He watches Eddie’s mouth purse as he examines the drink menu, wet and pouty, and wonders hopefully if they’ll end up hooking up during filming.  

Richie has to mentally smack himself for even thinking it.   You’re here to work, you fucking idiot, so get serious for once in your life.

“I hope this is okay,” he says, gesturing vaguely at their surroundings.  He chose one of his go-to dive bars in Culver City (seems like an oxymoron with how expensive the area’s gotten) since he wanted to be able to hide.  “I know you don’t spend that much time here, so I wasn’t sure if you wanted to go to one of those chichi twenty-dollar cocktail places on Sunset just for the experience.”

“No, thanks, this is way more my speed.”

Richie orders himself a pickleback, which inspires a full-body shiver of disgust from Eddie, and Eddie orders a gimlet.  

“So,” Richie says, after shooting the whiskey, then shoots the pickle juice.  “Teach me all about method acting.”

Eddie giggles that sweet, melodic giggle again, then surprises Richie with his retort: “I thought you were going to teach me how to get on TFS.  That’s the only reason I agreed to even do this movie.”

“I still couldn’t tell you how I got on that show, so you’re out of luck there, my friend.”  Richie starts playing with the empty shot glasses, flipping them over and sliding them around on the bartop like a street performer doing a trick.  “Seriously, though. I want to know more about how you work and what you need from me, how I can help you do whatever you need to do.”

“I mean, I want this to work for the both of us, first and foremost.  And I’m not Daniel Day-Lewis; I don’t need the full enchilada. I’m not going to make you or the entire crew call me Thomas between takes or anything,” Eddie says, referring to his character in the film.  “Did Greg tell you I was this big method actor? I’m really not that crazy with it; I just take bits and pieces, whatever works for me—and I like being experimental. But I’ve worked with a lot of actors who don’t subscribe to it at all, and it’s fine.”  Eddie’s nose crinkles as he smiles at Richie’s expression. “You look disappointed. Were you hoping to try it? Because if you’re open to some of it…”

“I’m definitely open,” Richie says decisively.  “I just want to do well.” Eddie seems to perk up considerably at that, which gives Richie an odd feeling of pride.  “Let’s not talk about work anymore. How long have you been in New York?”

Eddie’s response is quick and sounds rehearsed.  “Since I was eighteen. Left my mom’s house and never looked back.”

“Shit.  Your mom.  Big lady?” Richie opens his arms wide, eyes narrowed, trying to recall her face and failing.  Eddie nods quietly. “I met her at least once, right?”

“A few times.”

Richie watches him sip generously on his gimlet.  “How much do you remember from when we were kids?  I’m getting the impression it’s way more than I do.”

Eddie studiously stares at his half-empty drink.  “Not much more than you, probably. You did tease me relentlessly; I do remember that.”

“Ugh,” Richie grimaces.  “I was such a pain in the ass then.”

“No, you meant well, I think.”  Eddie shakes his head, lifting his eyes at him in a way that threatens to give him heartburn again.  “It was cute.”

Richie inhales sharply, clearing his throat.  “You haven’t been back to Derry at all?”

“...Well.  For my mom’s funeral, back in 2010.”

“I’m so sorry.  You should’ve—.”

Eddie shrugs.  “It never changes.  Derry. It’s kind of freaky that way.  New York is changing all the time. People coming and going.”  Eddie stirs the tiny straw around his drink, though it’s down to almost just ice.  “I saw you once—in New York. You came to do stand-up.”

Richie lights up.  “What? When?”

“Uhhh.”  Eddie’s eyes drift up to the ceiling, trying in vain to read the date there.  “2008? 2009? You were at Gotham.”

Richie shudders.  “That sounds right.  The dark ages.”

“You were great,” Eddie says encouragingly, and either he’s a really good actor or he really means it.

“...Why didn’t you say hello?”

Eddie cuts his eyes at him, teasing, “Would you have remembered me, asshole?”

Richie cackles.  “Bev and I reconnected, you know, a few years back.  We hang out all the time.”

“Beverly Marsh?  Wow.”

“Yeah.  She’s in fashion and she does production design sometimes—when they pay her enough.”

“That’s really cool.”  

Eddie looks terribly fond.  Richie understands; Bev’s got a way about her.

“She remembers even less about Derry than I do.  Or so she says. But she remembers you. Was very eager to pore over your IMDb page when I told her the news.”

“My whopping five or six credits.”

“Five or six dramatic credits, at least.  My page is just TFS, a stoner movie, and a bunch of Funny or Die videos.”

“Okay, we’ve already established that we’re both feeling really insecure about this.  So here’s to being on even footing, at least.” He raises his empty glass to Richie, and Richie lifts one of his empty shot glasses from the table, not bothering to flip it upright before clinking it against Eddie’s.  Eddie motions to the bartender, then quietly asks Richie, “Do you want another?”

Richie opts for something lighter, a beer, since he’s driving, though he anticipates they’ll be here long enough that they’ll both come right back around to sober by the time they finally leave.  The conversation just has that feeling about it. He and Eddie just have that feeling about them, between them. It’s thrilling and a little scary.

Once they’re all set for drinks again, Richie leans on one of his fists.  “I’m not sure I ever had you pegged to become an actor.”

“I didn’t either; it just sort of happened.  My therapist pushed me into drama therapy when I was in college, and it was more effective than any session we’d ever had.”  Eddie rolls his shoulders, clearly trying to relax them. “I had a lot of anger to work through. Still do,” he smiles ruefully.

“So you were being method before you even knew what it was.”

Eddie’s smile turns into a sweet, generous thing.  “Yeah, you can say that. It was the best place for me to start because it wasn’t about being good; it was just about being honest.”

Richie can’t remember a time, even as a kid, when he wasn’t dead set on being good, on being funny, on being liked.

“There wasn’t really a proper audience, so the audience didn’t matter—and it still doesn’t, for me.”

Richie makes a distressed sound.  “Can’t relate, my friend. If I’m not getting a laugh, I’d rather walk into oncoming traffic.”

Eddie looks at him.  “I’ve never been funny—not intentionally, anyway—so I can’t relate to that.”

“Do you wanna—?” Richie starts impulsively, stopping to take a drink when Eddie looks at him again, all endless eyes and open mouth.

“What?”

Richie takes another drink, fortifying himself.  “I have a crazy idea. For Blue Valentine, Michelle Wiliams and Ryan Gosling lived in a house with each other for a whole month leading up to shooting, so they could be in each other’s space and learn about each other and develop a real relationship—so it would hopefully translate in their performances as this couple who’s been together for years.”  

“So I’ve heard.”  Another smile threatens the corners of Eddie’s mouth.

“...Do you have anything going on before we start rehearsals?”

“No.”

“We don’t have to do a whole month—I’m probably a nightmare to live with—”

Eddie laughs, and Richie’s heart can’t help chasing the sound, wanting more.

“But maybe a couple of weeks?  There’s plenty of room at my house.”

“Okay, easy, TFS,” Eddie teases.

Richie’s even more thrilled at this bit of playful snark.  He actually doesn’t have a comeback, or maybe he’s just too hellbent on getting Eddie’s answer.

Finally, Eddie puts him out of his misery.  “I’m just kidding. That’s a great idea.”

And that’s how it starts.  

permatag list: @reddie-to-fight @hurleyhugo @raspberrywind @losver-kaspbrak @lilgeorgie @geckolover001 @its-stranger-than-you-think @gazebo-motherfucker @waypunsarelife @reddietofall @happytozier @librablossom @aesteddie @tapetayloe@spagheddi-kaspbrak @sadhelianthus @adhdtozier @justcallme-trashmouth @fuckboyrichie @thetheatregal @bandaids @20gayteeneds @richietoaster @burymestanding @reddiepop@notsugarandspice @peniswises

a memory of love list: @artofhely @trippy-alexissss @feelinsorad @where-ismy-miind @justanothetfangirl

[thestarsaroundyourscars]

I met you in the dark, you lit me up, ch 4

Chapter 4: The day of their first date

Summary: In which the awaited first date between Eddie and Richie finally takes place.

Pairing: Richie Tozier x Eddie Kaspbrak

Words: 4,755

AO3 link

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Tag list: @daddyphantomtbh @yes-dillman-yes @richietoaster @beepbeeprichiellc @thetheatregal @its-stranger-than-you-think @lemonaayyee @pennys-pet-kitty Enjoy ♥ 

A/N: I hope their first date lives up to your expectations! This is my favorite chapter so far, I just love writing these two together.  I’m working on new ideas for future chapters, if you have any suggestions, let me know ♥♥♥ 

Richie Tozier woke up early on Saturday to get ready for his date. He made himself some breakfast and took a long shower, but when he went to get dressed, he realized he had absolutely no idea what to wear. He knew he was being ridiculous, it’s not like they were going somewhere fancy or anything and he had a lot of clothes to choose from, but his friends didn’t call him dramatic for nothing.

He had few options on what to do, he could call Stan or Mike and ask for their advice, they were surely awake by now or… he could wake Beverly up. He didn’t want to do that, the thought alone made him flinch, Bev was whole heartedly against waking up early on the weekends, even more so than Richie himself. They had some sort of agreement where, if they had to wake up early for some reason, they had to be as quiet as possible so as to not wake the other person up, they usually managed to do it but on the times they didn’t, it could get pretty ugly.

Remembering the last time that had happened and how he had ended up with a bruised shin from Beverly kicking him, he figured it was safest to just call his other friends.

As luck would have it, neither Mike nor Stan picked up though. He called them three times each but nothing. What the fuck could they possibly be doing so early on a Saturday? He thought as he tried calling their house phone.

“This is Stan and Mike’s voicemail, we can’t come to the phone right now, but leave a message and we will get back to you” he heard Mike’s voice say before the beep. Richie groaned and hung up.

He went through the mess of clothes on his bed and closet and floor, hoping he wouldn’t have to resort to asking Beverly for help but came up with nothing. So, he walked to her room and stood in front of her door, taking a deep breath before knocking.

“Bev, I’m so sorry for waking you up but I need your help” Nothing, he knocked on the door a bit louder, “Bevvy? The peanut butter to my jelly? The cheese to my macaroni? The… the salt to my pepper? The…” He stopped abruptly when the door opened and an angry looking Beverly Marsh stood in front of him.

“What in the shit could you possibly fucking need at” she turned to check her bedside clock, “nine thirty in the fucking morning on a Saturday, Richard?” she growled.

“I…. uh… Have I ever told you how radiant you look in the morning; Bev, darling?” He said with a nervous smile. He wasn’t lying, Bev was always radiant but right now she looked more murderous than anything.

She narrowed her eyes at him and went to close the door on his face.

“Wait!” he yelled and stopped the door with his hands, “my date with Eddie is in a couple of hours and I am trying to figure out what to wear, but I can’t. And I know I’m acting like a 12 year-old here but this is important to me. I’m so sorry for waking you up, I tried calling Stan and Mike but they’re both MIA. Please, Bev, I need you.”

She closes her eyes, taking a deep breath, probably counting to ten as a way of not killing Richie right there and then.

“Fine. I’ll help. But you’ll owe me for this, Tozier” she said while pushing past him and heading towards the kitchen, probably looking for coffee. Richie was glad he made enough for the both of them, there is only so much Beverly was willing to forgive him for.

Even though she glared at him the entire time, Bev was actually a big help. In the end, they decided on his nicest pair of ripped jeans, a white band t-shirt, a black and blue plaid shirt, unbuttoned and with the sleeves rolled up and a pair of white converse.

He knew he could have chosen these clothes himself, he was sure he had worn that same combination before, but it was nice knowing Beverly approved.

With her help he was ready by nine thirty. He still had over an hour left before he had to go, which he spent sitting on the couch with Bev, watching some cartoons, because there was nothing else on the TV.

“You wanna know why there’s only cartoons playing, Rich? Because only overexcited children watch TV this early on a Saturday” Bev had said, while he handed her another cup of coffee. They sat in silence, letting out the occasional chuckle, because no matter what Bev said, she loved cartoons.

Richie had been feeling nervous since he woke up that morning, but the more he sat there, the more his nerves increased and the more anxious and jittery he felt. He could see Beverly occasionally glance at him, probably annoyed at the way his legs would make the couch shake with it’s bouncing or the noise his car keys made when he moved them around in his hands, but she never said anything.

When it was finally time to leave, he was feeling like a complete mess, his throat felt dry, he was sweating and he felt like his stomach was in knots.

Beverly must have noticed because before he could leave, she had reached for his hands and looked him in the eye before she said, “You have nothing to be nervous about, Rich. This may be your first date, but you already know each other and have talked to each other and he likes you, okay? So, just be yourself and have fun. Show Eddie a real good time.”

He took a deep breath and nodded, she was right, they had been talking for an entire week and they got along great so, nothing to worry about. Just be yourself and have fun, he repeated in his head.

“Thank you, Bev” he said with a smile. Richie kissed her cheek goodbye, grabbed his wallet and cellphone and left the apartment.

He had told Eddie he remembered the way to his apartment from their cab ride last week, after all he hadn’t been that drunk. Now, he is glad Eddie didn’t believe him and insisted on texting him the address, because he might have trusted his drunken memory more than he should have.

Once he gets there he texts Eddie to let him know and he answers with a text of his own, saying he will be down soon. Richie gets out of the car and leans against it to wait for him. Less than five minutes later he sees Eddie exit the building and start walking towards him.

Richie’s memory of Eddie definitely did not do him justice, he was so much more beautiful than he remembered. Today, he was wearing black shorts, not the same he had worn last week but he looked just as good in them, a white polo shirt with red and black stripes and white socks and sneakers. He hadn’t seen Richie yet, he was looking down, putting away his keys inside the fanny pack around his waist. A fucking fanny pack, could he get anymore cute? He thinks.

Eddie finally looks up and spots Richie, he smiles brightly at him and Richie feels himself choke on air at how handsome he looks. How in the hell did I score a date with this kid?

Richie smiles back and then he is panicking because he doesn’t know how they are supposed to greet each other. Do they shake hands? Hug? Wave awkwardly at each other?

He doesn’t get to make a decision on that matter though because when Eddie finally reaches him, he stands on his tiptoes and kisses Richie’s cheek.

“Hi, Rich” he says taking a small step back. His cheeks are a bit pink but nothing compared to Richie’s, which are bright red and burning hot, especially where Eddie kissed him. He is staring wide eyed at him and he is so flustered it’s not even funny.

“Uh… hey. Um… yeah, hi Eds” He struggles to say. Then he clears his throat and adds, “How is my Eddie Spaghetti?” in a somewhat more composed manner.

Eddie scrunches up his nose, “God, there’s that nickname again” he says but the corners of his mouth still curl up in a smile, “I am good, what about you?”

“Better now that I’ve seen your adorable face and that cute as fuck outfit you’re wearing” Richie says with a wink and Eddie rolls his eyes but he blushes a bit too. Then in a more serious tone he adds, “You really do look great, Eds.”

“You look pretty good yourself, Trasmouth” Eddie says with a shy smile, looking up at Richie.

God, we are both nervous wrecks right now, he thinks, you would think talking nonstop for a week would take some of the anxiety away but it’s like we are meeting for the first time.

“So, you finally going to tell me where you are taking me?” Eddie asks for the hundredth time.

And for the hundredth time Richie replies, that no, he is not telling Eddie a thing.

Eddie pouts, and it makes Richie melt, but he made it this far without telling him and he’ll be damned if he spills it now, so he just opens the passenger door for Eddie and gestures for him to get in.

“Your carriage awaits, Eddie my love, smile, because you and I are going on an adventure” he says in a British accent so awful it makes Eddie laugh.

Once they are both in the car, Richie looks at his date and asks, still with the silly accent, “you ready, darlin’?”

Eddie looks at him and humors him by saying in an accent himself, “Drive away, dear” and with a smile Richie does just that.

Last night he had memorized the route so as to not ruin the surprise by having to look for directions on Google Maps. It’s a short ride, less than twenty minutes, and they make small talk while Eddie looks around trying to figure out where Richie is taking him.

“You really don’t like surprises, do you, Eds?” he chuckles and Eddie just shrugs his shoulders.

When Richie makes the final turn and the place they are going to comes into view, Eddie sits upright on his seat and gawks at the huge sign that has the words “Adventure Aquarium” written on it.

“You fucking didn’t” he says and he’s smiling so wide it distracts Richie so much that he almost rolls over a woman pushing a stroller across the street.

He chuckles, “Oh but I did. You sounded so excited when you told me about your trip to the aquarium, that I figured you would like this” he pauses and adds, “You do like it right? It’s not childish or anything. Shit, it is, isn’t it? I knew I should have just… taken you to the movies or something like that.”

Eddie places his hand on the other boy’s knee and smiles at him in a way it leaves Richie gasping for air.

“Rich, I freaking love it, okay? This is the best surprise ever”, he says and Richie relaxes.

They find a spot to park and walk to the main entrance, Richie holding their tickets in his hands. Eddie is practically bouncing with excitement and Richie makes a mental note to get Beverly something extra nice for her birthday for coming up with this great idea.

Once they are inside, they make their way through different exhibits and attractions. Richie has never been to an aquarium before so he finds himself getting excited over the hippos and the sharks and the fish from Finding Nemo. Eddie might have been to one before but it was a long time ago and he is just as excited as if it was the first time.

While they walk they talk about different things. They talk about their jobs and their friends, Eddie tells Richie about the project he is working on for his physiology class, and he listens when Richie explains how he still hasn’t decided if he wants to major in physics or engineering. Every once in a while Eddie will blurt out some random fact about the animals they see and then proceed to get all flustered at how dorky it must sound, even though Richie insists he finds them really interesting and the fact that Eddie knows them at all, extremely endearing.

They were at the penguin’s exhibit now, watching the African Penguins. Richie was surprised when he saw that there was no snow or ice, he didn’t know there were penguins who could live on warm climates. He said so to Eddie, who of course knew they existed.

“They live in colonies on the coast and islands of southern Africa” he said, before he chuckled and added, “Did you know they are called jackass penguins? Because they make this weird sounds, donkey-like braying sounds to communicate.”

Richie did not know that, but listening to the penguins right now, it made sense. They do sound like a braying donkey.

He looks at the other boy and smiles mischievously, making Eddie’s eyes widen once he realizes what Richie is about to do, but before he can do anything to stop him, Richie opens his mouth and starts braying like a donkey himself, as loud as he can.

Eddie covers his face with his hands in embarrassment but soon enough he is doubling over with laughter. That is all the encouragement Richie needs to carry on making those awful noises. By now, the people around them are staring, some in annoyance but most of them in amusement, there are a few kids around and, like Eddie, they find Richie’s antics hilarious. Some of them, to their parent’s dismay, actually start copying him.

“Oh my god, Richie, stop” Eddie says between giggles, he is in tears by now and holding on to Richie’s arm for support, “please stop, my stomach hurts” he wheezes.

Richie stops and supports Eddie by placing a hand on his side while he recovers. Eddie looks breathtakingly beautiful right now, the corners of his eyes crinkled, his face flushed from laughter. Richie realizes that he doesn’t care how badly he has to embarrass himself, he’d do anything to make Eddie laugh like this.

“You’re so embarrassing, oh my God” Eddie says, and he is still a little out of breath, “Everyone is staring at us.”

“Trust me, they are only staring because you laughing like that is the most beautiful sight” he says, and squeezes Eddie’s side.

“No, they are staring because you are crazy and they think you belong in a mental hospital, you dork” he giggles.

“The only crazy I am, is crazy for you” he says and Eddie snorts, he grabs Richie’s hand and pulls him away from where people are still looking at them.

“C’mon Romeo, all that laughing made me hungry. Let’s go grab some lunch.”

Richie doesn’t answer because he was rendered speechless by Eddie holding his hand and not letting go even after it was clear Richie was right behind him. Crazy for him indeed, he thinks, with a silly smile.

They find a café, where Richie orders a Philly cheesesteak and Eddie gets chicken tenders and fries. Eddie insists on paying for the food, since Richie had bought them the tickets. He only agreed after Eddie promised to let him buy them some ice cream later.

They sit down and eat in comfortable silence. Richie steals some of Eddie’s fries and even though the smaller boy glares at him, he angles his plate so that it’s easier for Richie to grab some more if he wants.

“So, we’ve seen the hippos, the sharks, the giant octopus, the eels, what else?”

“Nemo” Richie answers after swallowing a bite of his sandwich, “and Dory.”

“Right, a bunch of different types of fish and the seahorses too, what are we missing?”

“Um… the turtles, they have at least three different species, I read some of them were rescued from the coasts. There’s also the stingrays and the piranhas and…. One last surprise I have for you” he finishes with a smirk.

“Wait, what? Another surprise?” Eddie asks alarmed, making Richie chuckle.

“Uh huh and before you ask what it is, know that I’m not going to tell you” he says pointing at him with a stolen French fry.

Eddie is about to argue, when his phone starts ringing. He opens his fanny pack, takes it out and frowns.

“It’s Bill” he says, confused, “Do you mind if I answer?”

“Of course not, go ahead.”

“I’ll make it quick, I promise” he stood up and Richie heard him greet Bill before he walked through the door.

Richie took the chance to check his own phone, he had been so focused on Eddie and the animals, it hadn’t even crossed his mind all day. He replied to some texts and checked a Facebook notification, while he ate his food and finished Eddie’s fries. Then he noticed the time and his eyes widened. It was already 3 o’clock in the afternoon, it had been nearly four hours since they had gotten there but for Richie it had felt like less, he had been having so much fun he hadn’t noticed how long they’ve been there.

Richie looks up when Eddie returns and sits down in front of him again.

“Everything okay?” he asks.

“Yeah, everything’s fine, Bill just… did you ate all my fries?” he says frowning at his plate.

“Uh… no… you did” Richie answers unconvincingly.

“Right, so is that why you have ketchup all over your mouth?” Eddie replied with a raised eyebrow.

“Shit” Richie muttered and tried to wipe it off but missed.

“Here” Eddie said and used his thumb to wipe it off himself, while Richie stared at him like a deer caught in the headlights, he couldn’t believe how cliché the whole thing was. Then Eddie put his thumb in his mouth, and Richie honest to God, whined.

That made Eddie realize just what he had done and he blushes furiously. Richie was feeling pretty flustered himself. They stare at each other until Richie talks, in an effort to break the tension.

“What did Billy Boy want?”

“Huh? Oh, he just needed to know where my car keys were, he is taking my car to work today, since I’m not there to drive him.”

“Where does he work?”

And just like that they were back to normal, talking in between bites of food and sips of their drinks and if they stared at each other’s mouths more than they did before the ketchup incident, neither of them said anything.

-♥-

They made their way through the remaining exhibits. When they got to the piranha’s tank, Richie was freaking out over how cool the piranhas were up close and Eddie seized the opportunity to tease him for it.

“What are laughing about?” Richie asked and looked up at Eddie, he was currently sitting on the floor, intently watching a piranha eat its lunch.

“It’s just… You look like a kid, sitting crossed legged on the floor, all excited about a flesh-eating fish, it’s cute” he explains with a fond smile.

Richie just replies with a “Nah, babe, you’re the cute one,” and goes back to watching the water tank in front of him, missing the way Eddie blushes at the pet name.

They go get ice cream after that, mint chocolate chip for Eddie and rocky road for Richie. They walk around aimlessly while they eat it and every once in a while the back of their hands brush together, giving Richie a minor heart attack every time it happens. After the hundredth time it happens, he finally gathers enough courage to grab the other boy’s hand in his own. This makes Eddie choke on his spit and start coughing. Richie tries to retrieve his hand so that he can hit him on the back or something but instead of letting go, Eddie intertwines their fingers together and gives Richie’s hand a squeeze. Once Eddie recovers from his coughing fit, both boys smile shyly at each other and continue walking with their joined hands swaying between them.

One look at his watch told Richie it was time for Eddie’s surprise. He guided the other boy in the direction of the sea cliffs exhibit. Once they arrived, Eddie caught sight of a sign that said “Sea otter exhibit ahead” and stopped in his tracks.

“Richie look! There are otters! You didn’t tell me! Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks confused, then he turns to Richie and sees that the other boy is smiling at him, “This is my surprise, isn’t it?” he adds with a smile of his own.

“Not exactly” Richie says, making Eddie frown. He then reaches into his back pocket, pulls out two tickets and shows them to Eddie. He tilts his head to read what they say, and as he does his eyes widen.

“No way” he said, “no fucking way.”

Richie smiled, “Surprise, surprise, Eds. Today you get to feed and pet your favorite animal.”

Richie had expected Eddie to smile, jump up and down or sprint to where the otters were, what he didn’t expect was for Eddie to wrap his arms around his neck in a hug.

He stood there, frozen for a second before wrapping his own arms around Eddie’s waist tightly. Forget buying something nice for her birthday, I’m taking Beverly to motherfucking Disneyland for this, he thinks, content to be holding Eddie in his arms.

They break apart and Eddie is staring at Richie with such affection and happiness in his eyes, that he feels like he is going to combust. They smile at each other and walk towards the exhibit.

-♥-

Richie decides that if he and Eddie officially start dating he is going to find a way to buy him an otter or maybe steal it, whatever it takes because this right here, Eddie sitting on the grass, feeding the otter that is sitting on his lap and petting it with a huge smile on his face, is the cutest and happiest he has seen him and it makes Richie’s heart feel like bursting out of his chest.

They stay there for as long as they are allowed which is something close to half an hour and as they are walking away, hand in hand, their clothes wet and grass stained, Eddie looks up at Richie and says, “Thank you, Rich, for everything. This has been an amazing first date.”

And Richie lets go of this hand, puts his arm around Eddie’s shoulders and says, “Anything for you, Eds.”

Before leaving, they make a stop at the gift shop where Richie buys Eddie a Sea Otter stuffy and in return he buys Richie a piranha keychain, on which he excitedly hangs his keys right away.

It’s around five o’clock when they leave. The ride to Eddie’s apartment is quiet, they are both tired after walking around in the sun all day so they just listen to the radio, Richie tapping his fingers on the steering wheel to the rhythm of the music and Eddie mouthing the lyrics to the songs he knows.

Once they reach Eddie’s place, they both get out of the car and Richie walks Eddie to the front of the building. There, they both stand awkwardly, waiting for the other to do or say something.

“Do you… Would you like to come upstairs? We could watch a movie or something?” Eddie says without looking at Richie, nervous that maybe he is being too forward.

“I’d love to” Richie answers without thinking but then he remembers about his shift starting in about an hour and frowns, “shit, I can’t though. I have to be at the station by six thirty.”

“Oh, right, some other time then” Eddie deflates a little but tries to hide it behind a smile, Richie wishes he could blow off work and stay, but he can’t and he knows Eds wouldn’t let him anyways.

“You can bet I’ll take you up on that” he says and Eddie’s smile feels more genuine this time.

“I had a lot of fun today, Rich. I know I already said it, but thank you. It was perfect.”

“You don’t need to thank me, Eds, I enjoyed myself too.” And he did, more than he had in a long time.

C’mon Tozier, ask him out again, you both want to, so just do it, he tells himself. But it turns out he doesn’t have to, because then Eddie says, “But next time, no surprises, okay?”

With a raised eyebrow and a smirk, Richie says, “Next time, huh? Did I miss you asking me out on a second date at some point?”

Eddie chuckles, takes a deep breath and looks at Richie straight in the eye, “Richie Tozier, would you like to go out with me again sometime?”

“Why, my dear Eddie Spaghetti, I thought you’d never ask” he says fluttering his eyelashes and putting a hand on his chest in a dramatic gesture, making Eddie laugh. He sobers up and adds “That was a yes, in case you’re wondering.”

“Yeah, I kind of figured.”

They smile at each other and Richie’s eyes drift to Eddie’s mouth and before he can realize what he is doing, he leans forward and catches Eddie’s lips in a kiss. Eddie stays frozen for a millisecond before his brain catches up and then he is kissing back and pulling Richie closer by the lapels of his shirt. Richie goes along and cups Eddie’s face in his hands before deepening the kiss. They both feel like they are flying and Richie can feel Eddie smiling into the kiss and he knows he is too.  

Eventually, they end the kiss but they still don’t let go of each other. When they open their eyes, Eddie starts giggling and Richie would be offended at such reaction if he didn’t look even cuter while this close to his face.

“Are my kissing skills that laughable, Eds?” he asks, which only makes Eddie laugh more.

“No, no, your kissing skills are great, is just, your glasses make your eyes look big all the time but with your face so close to mine they look fucking huge” he says in between giggles.

“Oh, I’ll show you something huge” Richie says waggling his eyebrows suggestively and their faces are still inches apart, so when he does that it makes his eyes look even funnier than before and Eddie bursts out laughing.

“Oh god, I’m going to end up with abs if you keep making me laugh like this.”

“You know that’s only going to make me try even harder to make you laugh, right?”

“Oh, shut up.”

“Make me” Richie answers with a smirk and Eddie looks like he is considering taking him up on that dare but before he can kiss Richie again, someone clears their throat and they both turn and find a girl standing on the stairs in front of Eddie’s building.

“Uh… I’m really sorry to interrupt, but you’re blocking the entrance and I kind of need to go inside” she says sheepishly.

Both boys blush and awkwardly move apart so that she can go inside. Once she is gone, Richie turns to Eddie and says, “So, uh… I guess I’ll leave now.”

“Yeah, I should get inside.”

“I’ll call you tomorrow, yeah?”

Eddie nods and just like he did hours ago, steps on his tiptoes and kisses Richie, only this time he kisses his lips instead of his cheek. And just like hours ago, it turns Richie into a flustered mess.

“Goodbye, Rich.”

“Yeah, goodbye, Eds.”

He waits until Eddie is inside and out of sight to start walking back towards his car. He has to resist the urge to pump his fist in the air like the guy from The Breakfast Club at how amazing their first date was.

He gets in the car and as he drives away, he thinks about how bad he has it for for Eddie Kaspbrak, because even though he literally just said goodbye to him after spending an entire day together, he can’t wait to see him again.

[minteegems]

I need to tell you something ; Richie Tozier

A/N: Hey guys, this is my very first imagine! Hope it isn’t too bad, enjoy!

Requested: Nope

Word Count: 1873

Type: Fluff

Warnings: very slight cursing 

Y/N: Your name, N/N: Nickname, H/C: Hair color

The Loser’s Club were huddled up at the quarry, occasionally speaking over one another on their current argument. You sat with your legs crossed, one arm extended behind you to hold your upright position, and the other with your ring finger nail between your teeth. You bit your nails quietly, observing your friends babbling amongst themselves in amusement.

You were always the quiet one of the group, the one who never really spoke her mind but when you deemed necessary, everyone always took their time to listen, knowing it didn’t happen often. The Losers didn’t seem to mind your introverted nature, in fact, you found many of them coming to you when they wanted a to spend a quiet and peaceful evening with someone, rather than having it filled with loud and obnoxious chatter.

Your eyes shifted from one of your friends to another, witnessing the entertaining scene unfold. You chuckled beneath your breath, unaware the soft sound was heard by the one and only Trashmouth Tozier until his neck snapped in your direction from his spot right next to you.

“Since you happen to find this situation so funny, Y/N, please enlighten us with your opinion,” Richie’s eyebrows quirked up in an urging manner, causing the rest of the the Loser’s heads to face in your direction.

Your eyes widened slightly from the sudden spotlight, but your smile quickly returned to your face and you shrugged, unable to pick a side.

“Oh c-come on, Y/N,” Bill piped up next. “You h-h-have to agree that M-Michael Jackson is like the K-King of Pop.”

Richie’s eyes seemed to roll all the way back into his head, his already enlarged eyes whitening entirely. “Yeah fucking right. I can name at least ten other artists who could take that role. Even Eddie’s mom would agree with me. Trust me, I would know,” Richie’s eyebrows wiggled suggestively while motioning towards his poor hypochondriacal friend.

Eddie scoffed disgustedly but made no comment, already used to the trashmouth of the group making crude comments about his mother.

Your mouth breathed out a chuckle once more, gaining back the attention of your friends. “I have to agree with Billy on this one,” you spoke almost inaudibly, your friends almost unable to hear you if you all weren’t so close to each other.

Richie’s face fell, defeated. “I liked you better when you didn’t talk,” he mumbled, pushing his glasses back up to his face with his finger, a simple gesture which made you smile subconsciously. His frustration caused most of those who agreed with Bill to laugh and give you proud glances.

However Richie’s moment of fake disappointment didn’t last long because he quickly threw his arm around your shoulder and grinned. “It’s okay though, I make up for it, ain’t that right, Hotness.” He turned to face you, a cocky grin dripping sideways on his face.

It was your turn to roll your eyes, but you couldn’t help the blush that crept up your neck as you did so. It was common for Richie to flirt with you, yet every time it would still cause a fluorescent red tint to light up your cheeks.

You were pretty sure everyone in the group already knew about your crush on the trashmouth, seeing as the signs you radiated were pretty unintentionally obvious. Yet somehow, Richie found a way to be completely oblivious to your swooning symptoms. You were sure he didn’t feel the same way, forcing yourself to believe his flirting was only part of his nature, and not to actually charm you (even though he seemed complete that goal long ago without even realizing). Little did you know he felt the exact same butterflies in his stomach at the simple mention of your name and the same exact heartthrob every time he saw you place a loose strand of your H/C hair back behind your ear. He felt the same odd sensation on his skin when it accidentally brushed against yours, though was careful to be less evident about it all, seeing as even the talkative boy couldn’t form words to express whatever strange thing he was feeling inside. Therefore, he too kept it hidden, both of you hoping the feelings were only the significance of a short term crush and it would fade away anytime soon.

It did not.

It came as a surprise to the others at first, regarding your obvious personality differences, but they all quietly accepted it, leaving it up to you two to figure it out on your own.

“You know I’m a little surprised you didn’t side with Richie this time N/N,” Beverly chimed after noticing your change in attitude, a discreet but still identifiable smirk on her bright, pink lips. “Him of all people.”

Her words earned her a sharp glare from you, internally telling her to shut it. Being the only other girl in the group and all, Beverly was the only person you’ve actually told your feelings about Richie to (despite the others already knowing by catching on). You told her how he was the only one to make you laugh up until you had tears in your eyes. You told her how his smile made your heart want to melt into a puddle beneath your feet. You told her how you wanted to care for him in a way his parents never did. At the time, you weren’t sure what all that meant, but Beverly already knew what it was, silently hoping you could one day learn to decipher it.

The redhead laughed at your reaction, only making the crimson color on your face darker. Richies face contorted in confusion as he looked at you.

“Woah, Y/N, your face looks redder than Eddies mom’s underwear during that time of the month.” His statement caused someone to groan, most likely Eddie again, but your head was held too low in embarrassment to confirm your suspicion.

As much as you adored Richie, his lopsided grins, his thick framed glasses that were too large for his face, and everything else that came with him, you couldn’t help but want him to shut his trap at times.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re blushing because you feel all hot and flustered sitting next to me, huh?” he continued, shrugging innocently and leaning back, though you could hear the teasing that laced his words. “It’s fine, I totally get it, I can be quite the smoke show for some people.”

You heard the rest of your friends snicker slightly, enjoying the sight of your flushed face because of Richie’s flirty bickering. You were about to hit your breaking point of embarrassment before he continued even further.  

“I truly am a gift. I know you can’t resist all of thi-” You cut him off before he could finish by placing your index finger on his lips as if shushing him. The out-of-no-where action caught both you and him completely off guard, and quite frankly everyone else as well by the way their body movements ceased and their eyebrows lifted upwards.

You brought your finger back and used it as a way to tell him to approach you closer. You weren't sure where you found this sudden confidence as you looked at him mischievously. You figured you were done his constant with his teasing and flirting; now it was your turn.

His eyes appeared like saucers and his mouth was slightly parted open, still dumbfounded by your silent command. His pale face leaned closer to you, only inches away from your face. You used your thumb and index finger to turn his chin away from you, his skin feeling like flames underneath your fingertips from the small contact. You leaned in close to his ear, fully aware of the Losers’ Club intense stare on you both.

You understood why. Your current behavior was completely unsuspected, as if it fell from the sky as an apple would from a tree; random and alarming. Never would you have suspected it yourself, yet there you sat, making Richie flustered for the very first time, and you secretly loved it.

“I need to tell you something,” you whispered in his ear enticingly so only he could hear, and you could hear him gulp from your close proximity.

He waited what felt like seconds to hear what you had to say, and rather than continuing your act, you decided on a more fun approach to completely turn the tables.

You inched ever so closely, feeling his curly mop of hair tickle your nose as he shuddered from the feeling of your breath hitting his neck. “BEEP BEEP RICHIE!” You yelled all of sudden, causing him to jump a foot in the air.

The rest of your friends remained stunned for a second, both from Richie and the fact that you weren’t one to speak that often, much less speak loudly. After a moment, they all burst out laughing, a sweet giggle emitting from your lips soon after.

“You got him good Y/N,” Mike laughed and clutched onto Ben who was doubling over right next to him, pointing his finger at the loud boy whose face was currently the color of a freshly picked strawberry.

Your triumphant grin however, only lasted for a mere second before you felt a pair of lips press up against your own, causing the group to go silent for the second time that day. The only sounds that could be heard were Beverly Marsh’s gasp, along with the slight rustling of the nearby trees as if cheering the pair on.

You froze, eyes the size of golf balls, suddenly unsure if you would ever regain the feeling of your limbs again. Your body proved against your thought as you began to relax, your hand finding its way to Richie’s cheek while you began to kiss him back.

It was really only an awkward peck that lasted no longer than three seconds due to the inexperience and suddenness of it all, but those three seconds felt like bliss. You were no longer sitting outside in the summer heat at the quarry, nor surrounded by the stares of your friends, but rather it felt like it was just the two of you in the middle of space and time. It was at that moment that you knew what Beverly wanted you to figure out; you were helplessly in love with Richie Tozier.

Richie was the one to break away first, lips still pouty and ears painted a dark shade of scarlet. No doubt you looked the same, and you were surprised that no one was able to hear the rapid pounding of your heart as it drummed in your ears.

“That was hot,” Richie blurted out, referring to your quip and making your face redden more (if that was even possible).

You both stared at each other for what felt like hours, but you knew it was only a couple seconds. Richie’s lips broke apart as if he wanted to say something else, but was left at a complete loss of words. A voice startled you both back into reality.

“Well that's one way to make him shut up,” muttered Stan.

[spideyyverse]

Soulmate {StenBrough}

Quick Side Notes: I AM SO SO SO SORRY THIS TOOK THREE WEEKS TO WRITE I REALLY TRIED MY BEST TO WRITE BUT I DIDN’T HAVE TIME I REALLY HOPE THIS MAKES IT UP TO YOU

Also I have other concepts for a soulmate au! Let me know what you guys’ think? :)

Requested: @thesniffler

Ships: Reddie, Stenbrough, Benverly, 

Warnings: Swearing, my awful writing

Requests: OPEN

It happens at the most inconvenient, but oddly, the most convent times. It doesn’t matter if you just met your soulmate or have known them since you were in diapers, when the time is perfect, your skin is engraved with two symbols; One to represent you, the other to represent your soulmate. 

“Happy birthday big Bill!” A rather obnoxious but familiar voice boomed through my room causing me to wake up. Not too long after the loud voice screamed in my ear, I was bombarded with silly string, air horns, and a weight sat on top of me.

“Beep fucking beep Richard” I muttered trying to close my eyes to continue sleeping.

“I think the fuck not Billiam, get your ass up kind fellow! I do believe lady Marsh has gathered our fellow mates for a lovely all day celebration!” Richie threw on his oh-so famous British accent and dragged me out of the comfort of my own bed and onto the floor. 

I sighed as Richie ran off to the kitchen to where my younger brother Georgie was most likely at. Having the trashmouth live with me was both a blessing and a curse.

Blessing, because it meant he was free from the disgrace he used to call parents; curse, because it meant I had deal with that every day. I can’t complain, he’s my best friend, I would take a bullet for the fucker if it meant I got to keep him around.

Forty five minutes later, the lanky curly haired boy was shoving me out the door and down the street to the usual meet up spot - a café on the corner of 3rd and main street. As he eagerly dragged me down to the café, I saw his tattoo peaking out of the corner of his sleeve, a flower and a guitar. The flower representing Eddie Kaspbrak himself. The guitar representing the trashmouth.

It was funny actually when we all discovered that the flower represented the hypochondriac, all the losers - including myself - all knew that Eddie and Richie were meant to be since the day they met. I had an ongoing bet with Mike that Eddie’s symbol would be an inhaler, his money was on something aesthetically pleasing the day Eddie switched his fanny packs for flower crowns. So, the day Eddie Kaspbrak turned up to the quarry with two tattoos, Richie Tozier almost threw himself into the water after finding out he had matching soulmate tattoos with the boy he’s been in love with since the second grade. Sad to say, the rest of the losers club were either robbed of twenty dollars or gained twenty dollars. Who knew that the others had secret gambling deals. Stan being the mastermind that he is, managed to make a deal with my younger brother

Needless to say, I was forty dollars broke and Mike Hanlon and Stanley Uris were both twenty dollars richer. (Georgie almost didn’t see the light of day after he asked me for twenty dollars).

The guitar represented Richie in more ways than a few. For the loud mouth that he is, he actually can sing. The boy is extremely talented, it was only a few months ago that we discovered that he’s been playing the guitar and singing since he was six. As someone who has known the kid since I was four years old, I always distinctively knew that music was his escape from reality. He and I know each other probably better than anyone else in the group. Despite starting the losers club as the “core four” and somehow along the way Ben, Beverly, and Mike managed to wedge their way in, Richie and I always managed to have a special bond.

“Land ho! I do believe I see our good friends awaiting our arrival good sir!” Richie stopped in front of the cafe’s big window and pointed to our friends sitting at our usual table. Bev noticed us right away and waved excitedly. I smiled back and entered the café.

“Happy birthday Bill!” All the losers simultaneously cheered. The other usuals at the café continued the happy birthdays and the waiters and waitresses brought out an ice cream cake singing their own version of the birthday song. I was smiling so much I was beginning to feel my cheeks hurt. I said my thank yous and blew out the one and eight neatly placed in the center of the cake.

“I can't believe our leader is officially eighteen! I remember when we threw him into the quarry for his fourteenth birthday!” Ben fake cried.

“He’s eighteen not eighty one dumbass” Stan rolled eyes but still let the smile spread across his face.

“Welcome to the eighteen club” Mike patted my back. He had just turn eighteen a few months prior along with Stan and Richie.

“Haystack has a point actually” Richie chimed in, “I mean, that’s shit is crazier than the times I’ve fucked Eddie’s mom-”

“Beep beep Richie” We all groaned, he gave us a sheepish smile but continued, “I mean we’re all going to college soon, as in next week soon, thank God we’re all near each other though, honestly full offense but I’d be in jail if you guys weren’t my friends.” Richie shook his head while Eddie took his hand and placed it into his. “We know love.” Eddie sighed causing Richie to blush at the nickname.

Of course he wouldn’t admit to it though.

“Look on the Brightside Tozier. half of us will be at USC while the other half” Mike jokingly narrowed his eyes at Eddie, Stan, and Ben, “At UCLA. I don’t care how long we’ve been friends, I can’t believe I’m going to be friends with the enemy.” He shuddered causing everyone to laugh. 

“Who knows Hanlon, maybe your soulmate goes to UCLA. Maybe your egotistical ass will shut the fuck up.” Stan rose an eyebrow and smirked. I scoffed and smiled at Stan.

Something about Stan always left a funny feeling in my tummy. Sure, at one point I thought Bev was my soulmate. It really was just a silly middle school crush. Besides, the small ball and needle tattoo placed on her shoulder that represented her love for fashion and Ben’s small open book tattoo perfectly placed on his ribcage that represented his love for poetry were oddly perfect for each other. 

Nonetheless, it was something about the way his hair was perfectly but messily curly, or the way he always had to grab my hand and pull my hand towards a bird he saw. Whether he means it in a friendly way or more than friendly way, it always left a special feeling in my heart whenever he touched my hand. Every time our fingers do the slightest brush against each other, I always check my body, impatiently waiting for the tattoo appear. Hell, even Georgie has a tattoo. a small paper boat aligning itself with a paper airplane on the side of his right hand where his thumb is at- He’s eleven for fucks sake. Nothing ever shows up.

“I think it’s time to open presents!” Bev cheered taking me out of my thoughts.

“Me first!” Richie screeched pushing Ben out of the way.

“Richie say s-sorry to Ben!” I laughed trying to maintain a motherly tone. It something I did whenever the group referred to me as the ‘leader’ of the losers club- they did refer to me as the leader not too long ago after all. My stutter on the other hand has gotten significantly better throughout the years despite my troubles with a couple of words.

“Sorry Ben-” Richie began

“It’s okay Rich”

“For kissing your mo-”

“Richie!” Bev and Eddie shouted.

“You're right. Eds is the only person who gets to taste these delicious lips!” The now contact wearing boy made kissy lips to the slightly shorter boy.

“Unfortunately.”

“Hey!”

“Guys! I wanna see what Bill got!” Stan shouted over the two arguing boys. Stan gave me a soft smile making tummy feel fuzzy and my heart pound just a little faster. I felt a weird feeling in my arm but ignored it as I opened Richie’s gift. 

A small photobook. Polaroids from when we were four till now.

“Don’t read the card yet yeah? I want that to be personal.” He shrugged and smiled. I returned the smile, both of us clearly holding back tears. I hugged him for a little longer than usual but I couldn’t help but feel eyes burning in the back of my head. More specifically, eyes coming from Stan’s direction. I pulled back from Richie and looked at Stan who immediately changed his face from jealously to happy. 

He couldn’t be jealous, could he?

Slowly one by one I opened each of the losers presents. Bev got me art supplies, Mike got me a new baseball hat and mitt, Ben got me a journal of prompts and a sketchbook, and Eddie got me tickets--well technically all of us tickets but he claimed I can choose whoever I wanted to take as if I knew another six people in California-- to go to my first Dodger game. It didn’t take me long to figure out that only one person didn’t gift me anything. I didn’t expect presents but it was odd to not receive anything from all the losers.

We all looked at Stan who had a shy smile on his face, “Um, I figured it would be best to give you your present at a specific place.” Placing emphasis on the specific. 

“Woah Stan the man! Making moves on Big Bill? You gotta talk to me first!” Richie began putting on some sort of deep accent.

“Not like that.” He muttered twiddling at his fingers.

I placed my hand on his shoulder and smiled at him, “Let’s go then!” He returned the smile and motioned for everybody to follow him. We all followed him down a familiar path, a path we all know too well. It was the trail to the quarry.

“Stan?” I questioned but abruptly stopped in my tracks when I saw the quarry decorated with lights, a campfire, a small table filled with junk food, but my attention was caught on my famous bike, Silver.

“Silver! How’d you find it? I thought it was for sure gone after-”

“After Bowers threw it into the barrens and we couldn’t find it because of the rain and sewers. Yeah, I know. I managed to find it in some junkyard. I got it before some dude in a shit stained hat got it.” He shrugged but was clearly trying to hide his unnecessary embarrassment. He continued, “I figured that you’re gonna need to get to your classes somehow and you guys are only gonna have one car for a while. So I just-”

“Thank you.” I could have kissed him, risked everything and kissed him. Instead, I hugged him. The feeling once again coming back. Another weird sensation in my arm but ignored it when a voice shouted behind us, “Happy Birthday Billy!-Oh am I late?” Georgie blew a party popper but stopped when he saw all the losers. We all laughed and for one final time before Mike, Richie, Bev, and I set out for California before the other losers tomorrow, we all jumped into the quarry. We played chicken fights, marco polo, becoming the kids we once were. Stan and I always partnered up. Making eye contact and smiling at each other. 

The night was slowly coming to an end, each loser slowly leaving one by one. Giving one final goodbye and some tears. Georgie crying each time a loser said goodbye, it was honestly heartbreaking. The tears clearly wore him out when he slowly fell asleep with his head on my lap, “I’ll take him home? We’ll meet you back there.” Richie softly suggested. I nodded as he scooped Georgie in his arms and walked away with Eddie. 

This only left me and Stan.

We stood in comfortable silence. It wasn’t broken until an owl was heard somewhere, I peaked over at Stan who was excitedly trying to find the bird and grabbing my hand. I laughed and helped him find the bird. We didn’t give up until we reached another familiar spot, the old losers clubhouse. 

“We haven’t been here since-”

“Since we were fourteen.” Stan laughed softly.

“Wanna go inside?” I suggested.

Stan was already making his way in but being careful with the old wood. He shooed away any bugs he saw as I turned on the flashlight on my phone. Looking around, I found an old vinyl we used to use back when we were younger, “Think it still works?” I turned over to Stan after I dusted it off.

“Isn’t it battery operated? I think there’s some batteries back in Georgie’s walkie talkie at the quarry?” 

“Let’s go!” 

“With what vinyl? Dumbass.” Stan raised an eyebrow and laughed.

I looked around and conveniently enough, The Smiths 1981 record, Louder Than Bombs, was perched on an old shelf. I grabbed it along with the vinyl player and Stan’s hand, making my way back to the quarry. The way our fingers laced together, intertwining perfectly like a puzzle, it just seemed right. After what felt like a lifetime, we managed to make it back to our destination and fix the vinyl. I got it to work on the first try instantly placing the stick onto the vinyl.

Good times for a change / See, the luck I’ve had 

“Mr. Stanley Uris, I do believe I should have this dance” I tried my best to impersonate a British accent, restarting the song because the song was too short. I wanted to hold him for as long as I can. Stan only smiled and pulled me under the fairy lights he set up. 

So please please please / let me, let me, let me / let me get what I want

“Bill?”

“Yeah?”

“I-”

We were interrupted by the owl we heard only a while ago. I noticed Stan grin become wide when he motioned over behind me. I whipped around, the owl perched on a branch. I only shook my head and stared at Stan.

“Can I see your arm?” I asked.

“Excuse me?” He laughed.

Haven’t had a dream in a long time / See, the life I had / Can make a good man bad

I picked up his arm without questioned and rolled up the sleeve. an owl tattoo placed on the side of where his fore arm was slightly under where the elbow area was. It was neatly placed next to tattoo of ink and quill. I picked up my sleeve and held out my arm towards him.

The same owl and the same ink and quill placed on the exact same spot on my arm. 

So for once in my life / Let me get what I want / Lord knows, it would be the first time

He only pulled my hand back towards the spot where we were dancing. Our foreheads touched each other. Hands wrapped around each others waist. The owl still hoo’d, the vinyl record occasionally scratched due to its old age, but a pair of soft lips met mine. I felt myself kissing back. 

“You leave for California tomorrow.” He whispered.

“You leave on Tuesday.”

“But we’re both road tripping. You get there Tuesday, I get there Thursday.”

“See you Thursday?”

“See you Thursday.”

We held onto each other just a little closer.

[kutekasplon]

It’s just a small cut

A/N: This was requested by @kitaruhakiashi I hope you like it. 

Paring: Ben x Beverly

Description: Ben get’s in a fight with Henry Bowers, which results in Ben ending up in the hospital. Beverly visits him and feelings are confessed.

Warning: Cursing, very little angst, and they kiss. (There aged up to about 16/17, so don’t have a cow)

Word count: 1479

Edited: Yes 

Ben was walking home from the quarry when he spotted Henry Bowers and his friends hanging out just across the street. Of course, they would be hanging out right next to the spot where Ben walks almost every day. In the hope that they would just ignore Ben he continued to walk, he was almost past them when Henry called out to him.

“Hey, fat boy where do you think you’re going?” Ben ignored Henry and kept walking, someone came up behind Ben and pushed him to the ground. When he looked to see who it was Belch was looking down at him with a smirk.

“Henry, was talking to you?” Belch said.

“Really?” Ben asked. “I couldn’t hear him over over the lousy nickname he was calling me, the smirk on Belches face dropped and quickly turned to a glare. He grabbed Ben by the arms and dragged him to where Henry was standing. Once they were there, Belch threw Ben on the ground and stood next to Henry.

“When I’m talking to you, you don’t just keep walking,” Henry spat.

“Then what do you want do you want me to do?” Henery ignored what Ben said and asked a question instead.

“Where are the rest of your loser friends?”

“They were walking right behind me they should be here any minute,” Ben was lying, and he was pretty sure Henry could tell. The other Losers weren’t even close to leaving the quarry, Ben had to go early because his mom didn’t want him walking around by himself too late.

“I think you lying,” Henry stated. “Now I have a question for you, I know that you like that slut Beverly Marsh, and I was wondering if she’s given any of you guys aids yet?” Henry’s friends snickered. Everything in Ben’s sight turned red, and the next thing Henry knows he’s being kicked in his groin.

Before Ben could think about what he was doing he started to run, he could faintly hear Henry yell, “I’m gonna fucking kill you.” Ben turned into the alleyway hoping that no one saw him. He watched as the Bowers gang ran right past the alley. Ben smiled to himself and walked out the other end, but was quickly grabbed by Henry.

“You know,” Henry stated, “You and your friends are some of the dumbest people I have ever met.” Henry’s grip on Ben’s arm tightened, “You’re going to pay for what you did back there.”

“Yeah, what are yo-,” Ben’s sentence was cut off by a loud cracking noise and his own scream. Ben felt a searing pain in his arm and knew that his arm was broken, Henry let go of Ben and pushed him on the ground. Ben fell on his back, and the Henry kicked him in the stomach then spit on him. Once Henry was done with his torment he walked away from Ben and left him on the street.

Tears were running down Ben’s cheeks, and he could feel the sting of the cuts on his body. Ben heard someone walk up. “Oh my god Ben, what happened?” it was Eddie. All Ben could whisper out was a faint Bowers, and then he passed out.

When Ben woke up he looked around and saw that he was in a hospital room, he also noticed Beverly asleep in one of the chairs in the hospital room. He was a little surprised to see Bev there considering that Eddie was the one to find him. Beverly Marsh was one of the most beautiful girls that Ben has ever met. She’s strong, smart, funny and most importantly nice to Ben. Beverly, along with the losers, was one of the few people who didn’t bully him. Even when she found out that he was the one who wrote the poem, she didn’t tease him about it.

Ben tried to sit up but his body screamed at him in pain, he let out a small yelp and saw Beverly open her eyes and look at Ben. She stood up and walked over to him. “Hey, you’re awake.”

“Um, yeah, who brought me to the hospital?” Ben asked.

“It was Eddie, he said when he found you that you were on the ground covered in dirt and bleeding. Then he saw that your arm was broken and asked someone to help you bring you to the hospital.”

“Oh,” was all Ben said.

“Yeah, who did this to you?”

“It was Henry and his gang, I kicked him in the nuts, and he got pissed.”

“Ben why the fuck did you do that?”

“He said something rude about you, and I guess I got mad.”

“What did he say?”

Ben sighed, “He asked me if you have given us aids yet?”

Bev went quiet for a little bit and then spoke. “You didn’t have to that Ben,” she whispered.

“Of course I did, you’re my friend, and I care about you. If he said something about any of the other guys I would have done the same thing.” Ben hoped that Bev didn’t notice the blush on his cheeks.

“That’s very sweet, thank you.”

“Are any of the other guys here?” Ben asked trying to change the subject.

“Um, I know that Eddies here, and he said that he called the other guy’s so they should be here in a little bit.”

“How did you get here so fast?” This time there was a blush on Bev’s cheeks.

“I ran here, I wanted to make sure you were okay. When Eddie said that were hurt, I got anxious.”

“Really?” he said in disbelief.

“Yes, really I-I care about you a lot Ben way more than you think, and I have something really important to tell you. I talked about it with Mike and Richie, and they said that I should just tell you so here it goes. I like you, I like you a lot, and I have for a really long time. I’ve wanted to say this for a while, but I was scared that you wouldn't  have the same feelings, but I really needed to tell you how I feel and this seemed like a good time.”

When Ben heard these words he was utterly speechless, Beverly Marsh actually like him. After all these years of pining after her, she says that she wants him. Ben realized that he hadn’t said anything yet, and finally spoke.

“Are you serious?”

“Um, yeah,” she said a blush forming on her cheeks.

“That’s amazing Bev, you have no clue how long I’ve been waiting to hear those words for years. I was scared to tell you about my feelings because I thought you still liked Bill.”

“No, that stopped after I realized that he liked Stan.”

“So what does that make us?”

“I don’t know Ben you tell me.” Beverly moved closer to Ben and looked him in the eyes.

“D-do you want to be my girlfriend?”  Bev was right in front of Ben’s face. If he moved forward just a little there lips would be touching, so that’s what he did. At first, Bev didn’t respond, and Ben started to get nervous. Then she began to kiss back, Bev’s lips were very soft and unchapped. Ben moved his uncasted hand up to he cheek and pulled her closer to him. He ran his tongue over her lips asking for entrance, she gladly opened her mouth. Beverly licked the roof of Bens moth, then situated herself to where she was straddling his lap. Once they were out of breath, Ben pulled away and she started to attack Ben’s neck. As soon as Ben felt her lips on his neck, he let out a content sigh and spoke.

“Um, B-Bev?”

“Yeah,” she muttered still kissing his neck.

“Someone could wal-,” as Ben was saying this the door to opened and Richie walked in.

“Holy shit, Haystack, look at you making the moves,” When Richie said this Ben and Bev both quickly turned Bright red. The rest of the losers ran in to see what Riche was screaming about. They saw Bev straddling Ben, and they all had different looks on their faces. Richie was giving them a knowing smirk, Eddie and Bill were both smiling at them, Stan had a look of expectancy on his face, and Mike had a look of surprise on his face.

Stan was to one to finally break the silence. “Thank god, the sexual tension between you two was getting unbearable.” Everyone broke out into laughter when they heard this. Beverly was still on Ben’s lap and whispered in his ear.

“Don’t worry we can finish this later, I promise,” She kissed his cheek and got off of him. Ben was pretty sure that he was the shade of a tomato, he couldn’t believe that Beverly Marsh really liked him.

[orcinus-ocean]

Not a water buffalo

Please, from me to the world, learn the difference.

The two animals have nothing in common but their black color and the name "buffalo". As does the American bison, and they too have nothing to do with the other two animals.

Time and time again I see on the internet, "water buffalo", with the picture being an African buffalo. I see someone saying they're planning to farm or train water buffalo, and some well-meaning but ignorant person says "But those are VICIOUS! They can gore a lion!" I've even seen an article on "alternative bovines" for farming (an excellent article otherwise), talking about yak and water buffalo, and the photo is of... an African buffalo.

Now then.

African buffalo

Also known as the Cape buffalo or Caffer buffalo (in my native Swedish tongue, I've always known them as "Kafferbuffel", but even my mom was horrified when I said we are going to keep "vattenbuffel" - sigh).

Scientifically known as Syncerus caffer, they are not closely related to any other bovines. They live exclusively in Africa (mostly the eastern south and central Africa. There are two additional subspecies with a different range, but they are so different from the main animal they are probably actually different species, and I will not talk about them here), are known as one of the "Big Five" of wild game in Africa (the others being elephant, lion, leopard and rhino), and are extremely aggressive and dangerous.

They are said to kill over 200 people every year in Africa, and the species has even earned itself nicknames like "the Black Death" and "Widowmaker".

They are large and bulky, 100-170 cm in height, and weigh 500 to 1000 kg.

They have never been domesticated, and I imagine it might be impossible (see zebra vs. horse, or why zebras can’t be domesticated).

They are never, and have never been called water buffalo, so I don't know where this confusion came from.

Water buffalo

The water buffalo, or "Asian water buffalo" (though there is only one water buffalo and it's from Asia, making this name redundant), is a bit of a taxonomic confusion since it's said to be one species, the domesticated form of the wild water buffalo, Bubalus arnee, while the domestic animal is called Bubalus bubalis.

There are however two distinct types of water buffalo, called marsh buffalo and river buffalo. The marsh variety was domesticated in China and Southeast Asia, where it's used as a draft animal, and for meat. They are chunky, short-legged, with huge, backwards curving horns, and are never used for dairy.

The third image above in the right row is either a wild or marsh form, the fifth are marsh, and the rest are river.

The river buffalo was domesticated in India, from a different subspecies of wild water buffalo. They are much more cow-like in appearance, are used for dairy as well as meat and leather (their skin is twice as thick as on a normal cow, and is often used to make the bottoms of shoes), and have much smaller, curved horns (many different breeds exist, with different horns, but their horns never get as big as on the marsh buffalo).

Funny thing is, many Indians get away with the ban on eating beef, by simply eating buffalo instead.

These two varieties should probably be recognized as different species, as they have different numbers of chromosomes. The swamp buffalo has 48, while the river buffalo has 50. African buffalo by the way have 52, and cattle and bison have 60.

Both varieties have been domesticated for thousands of years, as long as horses and camels (~5000 years).

As you can see especially in the fifth image of the two buffalo in the field, the water buffalo are related to the Anoa and Tamaraw, and not to domestic cattle or bison. Domestic cattle can hybridize with bison, yak and more, but not with water buffalo. Neither animal is close to, or can hybridize with (it is thought) the African buffalo.

There are about 170 million of them in the world, and despite the world's 1.4 billion domestic cattle (almost ten times as many), more people depend on water buffalo than on any other livestock animal in the world.

We consider them “exotic” in the west, but they are no more exotic than our domestic red jungle fowl from east Asia (chicken), horses from central Asia, or cats from Egypt.

Unlike the African animal they are constantly compared to, they are very mild-mannered and considered gentle even when compared to domestic cattle. They are frequently ridden and trained for draft work.

The wild buffalo is larger even than the African buffalo, at 1.6-1.9 meters at the shoulder, and 800-1200 kg in weight, they are absolutely massive. The domestic water buffalo is much more modest in size.

They get their name, obviously, from their love of water. They frequently wallow, lay down in, even swim and dive underwater. Their skin needs it, so if you have domestic water buffalo at home, they need a water hole to wallow in.

Now I hope that anyone who read it, or even just looked at the pictures, will never confuse the two again!

They have as much in common as camels and alpacas, or leopards and domestic cats.