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thoughtfullyyoungduck · 5 years ago

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a little jealous

A/N: this was requested by anon, I hope you enjoy, let me know what you think!

request: Could you write a fic post it chapter 2 where Richie and Eddie start dating, but then Richie starts to feel jealous of Eddie with an attractive coworker?

warnings: a few curse words, a very brief mention of homophobia, a bit of self doubt

They’ve been officially dating for two months when Eddie invites Richie to join him on a work related business party. It’s not the first one Eddie has had to go to, but up until now he had always made up an excuse so that he only had to stay for about an hour, not nearly long enough for Richie to tag along to.

The difference between this one and the others he has already been too, is that this time he needs to stay to the end. Eddie might be up for a promotion if his boss takes a liken too him, which is why he is determined to make a good impression. If Eddie gets turned down, he’ll probably leave his job and search for another one, Richie thinks, since Eddie had been going on none stop about quitting.

Richie has been to his office before, on more than one occasion, when Eddie was so stressed he forgot his lunch, so it’s not his first Rodeo. He knows a few people that will attend, like Anisa who is the secretary on the bottom floor, Emmet who is Eddie’s coworker and works in the office adjacent to his, and Karen who is about as much a pain in the ass as Eddie’s mom, but Richie loves to fuck with her.

Anisa is his best friend in the office, well of course besides Eds, but whenever he stops by, he always leaves some form of candy on her disk, a references to the first time the two met, when Richie accidentally dropped all the candy he was planning to surprise Eddie with. It had been Halloween, and even though Eddie didn’t celebrate it, none of the losers actually, Richie still felt the need to do something. They hit it off straight after, especially when Anisa confided in him that she had never seen Eddie smile as much as when he got together with him.

Emmet is a bit of a hardass, work till he drops, party till he drops kind off guy. Full-on in everything he does, which sometime is a little of putting, but it can also cause hilarious comedy gold moments, which Richie has used multiple times in his sketches.

He’s pretty sure his winning Karen over aswell, since he has even managed to get a small smile out of her, which is a hell of a lot more than he ever got from Sonia.

The others he knows only vaguely by the nicknames he gave them, ranging from boss man to toilet man, the latter spending all his time on the toilet if Eddie is anything to go by.

Still, Richie is very excited when he gets permission from Eddie to go with him, so much so that he’s practically bouncing on his foot whilst he gets ready. Eddie is less keen on going tonight, but that has nothing to do with the fact that Richie is going.

Ever since returning from Derry, the two of them don’t go out much. They meet up with the losers, but apart from that they usually spend their time inside of the confinements of their home, either fighting over he gets the remote, cooking, working or annoying the shit out of each other.

Neither of them want to either, they enjoy each other’s company, and those of the other members of the losers club. When they do go out, they always seem to run into someone they know giving them shit about being gay. ‘Oh Eddie, I thought you were still married to your wife?’ or ‘If it isn’t the trashmount with a boy. What happened couldn’t get enough girl anymore?’

Most of them don’t mean bad, and Eddie nor Richie are ashamed of their love, they’re just tired of having to explain over and over again, so they stay in.

Work parties are the worst for Eddie, who doesn’t even like most of his coworkers to begin with, but sometimes they are mandatory, and he has no choice but to drag his ass over there.

So Eddie grumbles his way through getting ready, shaving and brushing his teeth with a stern look on his face, picking out his and Richie’s cloths. ‘There’s no way I’m letting you dress yourself, you’ll look like a walking Christmas tree.’

They lose some time while they get ready because Richie tries to cheer Eddie up a bit, by threatening to dose him in cold water, welcoming the snappy warning Eddie sends his way.

By the time they make it to Eddie’s workplace, where the party is going to be held, it’s a quarter past nine, while they were supposed to be there at nine.

This does not do any wonders for Eddie’s mood, who’s scowl turns impossibly bigger. He almost trips over his own two feet in his haste to make it inside, but before they do, he tugs Richie aside by the hem of his sleeve.

‘Please act normal, I need this job alright?’

‘My Eds, you wound me. You think I would throw away your honor just for a few laughs from a couple of lads, I could never.’ Richie’s British voice thick his words with an accent, having the intended effect. A smile tugs up the sides of Eddie’s mouth, even when he desperately tries to hide it, rolling his eyes extravagantly.

‘See that’s what I mean dickhead, don’t do the fucking British guy or I’m dumping you.’

He’s clearly joking, so Richie doesn’t dignify it with a response, though he does snort a little in amusement. ‘Sir, yes sir.’ He calls out long after Eddie has turned his back, cackling when Eddie flips him the bird behind his back. Fondly, Richie follows him through the long corridors, first turning right, then left, left again to eventually enter a massive open space, not to far from the bathroom Richie always uses when he comes to visit.

‘Hey, if you want to get out of here, just use the word salmon for whatever, than we’ll skoot on right out of here, Eddie Spaghetti’, Richie whispers inconspicuously to Eddie, trying to avoid being heard by somebody else. He hopes he succeeded, but by the looks of it, he did.

Eddie shakes his head fondly, his hand interlocking with Richie’s with a warning squeeze.

‘Shut up you idiot’, he mumbles fondly, the look in his eyes radiating nothing but love for the man in next to him.

They spot Anisa first, the sour look on her face melting away when she sees the two of them entering. She grabs two more drinks, balancing a total of three drinks in two hands, and offers it gracefully to them.

‘What took you guys so long?’ The voice of Bon Jovi booms through the room, originating from a djs-table in the left corner, making it hard to understand what she’s saying.

‘Mister clean over here had to be completely dosed up for this occasion, I think he changed cloths like three times, isn’t that right Eds?’ to be fair though, Eddie looks horrendously handsome, it’s almost criminal. His suit accentuates all the good features of his body, which is everything, his dress shoes make a squeaking noise every time they walk over the floor, and his hair is neatly combed back, making him look even more attractive than he already is daily.

A huff is forced out of him when he feels Eddie’s elbow dig slightly into his side. Eddie glare is turned up to a hundred.

‘Do you know how unsanitary it is to not wash every day? Do you know how many germs are transferred onto your hand by just touching a doorknob? If I didn’t wash up you know statistically speaking I have a 40% change of catching a disease? You know this asshole, why would you need to-‘

He’s intercepted by Anisa; ‘you two are so cute together’, and Richie couldn’t agree more. He takes a sip of his drink; which is champagne apparently, and is seconds away from asking Eddie who his boss is supposed to be, when a man Richie has never seen around the office makes an appearance, sliding in front Eddie’s left to give him a tight hug. By doing so, he breaks the link that Richie and Eddie hands still had, rudely shoving Richie slightly back.

He frowns, but does nothing as he waits for Eddie to introduce them. Anisa, who is still standing with them, looks to be as flabbergasted as he is.

‘Eddie, look at you. Handsome as always’, the man compliments while pulling back, his eyes shamelessly raking over Eddie’s form.

Eddie laughs politely, thanking him while reaching for Richie’s hand again. ‘Yeah, good to see you to Seth, this is my boyfriend Richie Tozier’, Eddie explains when the guy, Seth, makes no move to introduce himself.

Seth forces a curt nod towards Richie, not so much as a hello. It irks Richie to no end, but this might the one Eddie’s trying to impress, and Richie is not enough of an asshole to ruin Eddie’s chances because he’s annoyed.

‘I’m going to find Emmet, I’ll see you guys later’, Anisa tells them, as she turns around and walks off, something Richie would love to be doing now too.

He stays rooted to his spot though, trying to make himself as big as possible. It must look a bit ridiculous, but he can’t help it, there’s something about this guy.

‘So, have you managed to talk to the boss man yet? The guy really likes fresh workers.’ He tries to joke, but it falls flat, and Richie can’t help but feel smug and a little sympathetic towards the guy, so he laughs a bit awkwardly. It’s better than not responding at all, he argues, but then Seth levels him with such an annoyed look that Richie can’t help but feel a little intimidated by.

He hasn’t seen that sort of look since Sonya, and for all his joking about her, he really was terrified that she would manage to convince Eddie to stay away from for good. Uneasiness sweeps it’s way through Richie’s body, the only thing keeping him slightly calm and stable, is the hand he’s holding.

Richie tries to change the subject, to distract himself from how weird he finds the guy, by asking how he and Eddie know each other.

‘We collaborate on projects from time to time, Seth works for one of our client companies.’

‘Yeah, and we wouldn’t be coming back to the same firm if it wasn’t for Eddie over here,’ he gestures to Eddie as if Richie didn’t know who the fuck that was, ‘I’ve never had a more dedicated, ambitious, articulated, clever –‘

While he continues to dish out compliments, Richie reaches his arm over Eddie’s shoulders, pulling him flush to his side. Obviously it’s wonderful to hear compliments, and god knows Eddie deserves nothing but that, but it’s quite off putting that the same guy keeps praising him at every turn, and not even acknowledges his boyfriends presence instead being rude.

Eddie response by pressing a kiss to Richie’s cheek, which is a lot of PDA for him, maybe to sooth Richie, maybe because it was an automatic reflex, either way, Richie takes a deep breath and manages to hold his tongue till the guy is finished talking.

‘Yep, that’s my Eds, nothing but the best. I’m lucky to have him.’

He looks up from Eddie’s face to smile brightly in Seth’s vicinity, not even trying to compete with him, just being brutally honest.

‘He’s just as ambitious at home by the way, you should see the poses he can bend into when we’re-‘

‘Beep beep, Richie’, Eddie’s voice, sharp as the edge of a knife cuts in. ‘Don’t you dare finish that sentence you prick. And don’t call me that.’

Richie cackles, gripping his stomach with the one hand that isn’t occupied to stop himself from doubling over, Eddie’s angry face only making it worse.

‘Why do you call him Eds? He told you he doesn’t like that.’

Richie’s head snaps back up again, and this time, he feels actual anger. It’s one thing to flirt with Eddie in front of him, or be rude to him, Richie can deal with that, at least on the outside. But insulting their nicknames? He knows for a fact Eddie only tells him to stop calling him that out of habit, Eddie having admit to that himself, but this guy had no right commenting on it.

Eddie himself seems agitated now, in a truly fashion, one that he has never used to talk to Richie, but before he can say anything, another man steps their way, extending his hand and waiting for Eddie to shake it.

‘Mister Duke, how are you sir?’ Eddie asks a little nervously, and Richie lets his arm drop down. He refuses to let Eddie be denied this opportunity by homophobia, even if he isn’t sure that the man is homophobic, he’s not ready to take any changes.

With a gesture over his shoulder, Eddie follows who Richie presumes is his boss over to a table with man who looked like they stepped right out of the TV show suits, but Richie declines to walk with him.

Eddie needs a chance to prove himself, and Richie was just going to support him from where he was standing.

For a minute, he forgets Seth is still standing with him, until he opens his mouth again.

‘You know you’re only dragging him down right?’ He asks cruelly.

Richie frowns at him, his hands closed in fists, trying to lure himself away from his breaking point.

‘He would do much better with me. What do you have to offer? Money? I’ve got plenty of that, and at least I have status. Some small town comedian who flunked at his show that one time, and still hasn’t made a comeback yet. You look about as disheveled as a homeless men, and I can’t say I see much love between the two of you. You annoy him, and you might find it funny, respectable people don’t. Leave him before you ruin him like you ruined yourself. I could take better care of him than you ever could.’

After his monologue, he stares Richie down with a cocky expression, seemingly daring Richie to respond. When he doesn’t get one in ten seconds, he trudges on, probably to on to the next person to bother.

Richie feels like all the bones in his body have turned to liquid as he struggles to stay upright. For a moment he gazes around the room in shame, because it seems like a scene from a movie where everyone looks on to the bully annihilating some nerd, as that is the exact same emotion Richie comprehends, before he realizes that everyone is caught up in their own conversation, and he too walks off, going to the bathroom.

He knows Eddie will search for him when he’s done with his conversation, but for a moment that thought is put on the back-burner as he starts to get a little faint. It takes longer than it usually does to reach the toilet door, in the meanwhile he’s had to shrug Emmet of and ignore Anisa’s callout, but none of that matters when he finally gets there.

As soon as the door closes behind him, a loud sob leaves his throat. Only one sob is allowed to leave his lips, he argues with himself, so he resumes to silent tears only after that.

Overreactor, his traitorous mind hisses at him, and he knows it’s right, but he can’t help how he feels. He survived a fucking clown alien attacking him, and even that didn’t make him cry until he thought Eddie might have died.

However, he knows that Seth had a point, Richie is really not good enough for Eddie. And maybe Seth could be, at the very least, he did have a stable job, and he thinks highly of Eddie, maybe he was right, and he should leave Eddie so he can grow to his full potential.

Some times goes by while he’s thinking it over, and in the meanwhile he has moved to wash his face by the washing bins, scrubbing the area around his eyes to make it appear like he wasn’t crying. As he’s doing this, he hears Eddie call out to him. ‘Hey dickhead, you in here?’

The door whips open, clashing against the wall with a loud bang so hard that Richie flinches for a moment. A worried looking Eddie is standing in the door opening, his tie undone atop his blazer, and his frantic eyes searching the door, calming down slightly when he sees Richie.

‘Hey, why are you taking so long, you fall in the toilet or something?’ Eddie tries, a futile attempt at ignorance, Richie can clearly see how perturbed he is, but he’s kind enough to let Richie come to him.

Instead of telling Eddie the things that are on his mind, Richie tries to force a way around the topic, by using humor and creating a joke. ‘Well Eds, I was just about to call your mom, to declare my love for her.’

‘Richie’, Eddie sighs, running a hand over his face like he’s trying to mentally prepare himself? By the tone of his voice, Richie understands that Eddie is asking him to tell the truth, to speak what’s on his mind, but that can be so hard sometimes, so in lieu of having a conversation with Eddie, Richie starts to cry.

A hand pushes it’s way up to his mouth, trying to desperately to muffle the cries of despair, shame was again white hot present in his mind. Eddie looks shocked for about a second flat, before rushing over to Richie, grabbing his neck and pushing his head against the crook of his shoulder, rubbing his own hand up and down Richie’s back, and the other one through his hair.

‘Rich, it’s okay. You can talk to me dumbass, that’s what boyfriends are supposed to do.’

There’s nothing but silence for a few minutes, which Eddie grants Richie, just trying to get him to calm down.

‘do you ever doubt our relationship?’ Richie finally asks, feeling the way Eddie’s entire body freezes up as if he was told Pennywise was back.

Richie hurries to continue. ‘I mean, if I’d had to choose between me and Seth, I’d pick Seth too. He has a good job and I might be out of one after waiting so long to go on stage again, and I look ridicules, and I push your buttons,’ Richie takes a break to gulp in a large gush of air. ’I’m just saying, I’d get if you would want to break up with me.’

Yet, when Eddie pulls back slightly, Richie panics before letting him get too far. Eddie laughs again, still close enough that their noses are pressed together with Richie bend down the way he is.

‘Hey Rich, you’re really fucking stupid you know that?’ Eddie says with a voice so incredibly soft and fond, Richie nearly melts to a puddle. He’s still stroking curl after curl on Richie’s head, comforting him best he can when they’re in a public bathroom.

‘You’ll have a job. You’re so good at being funny Richie. Even if I don’t say that enough. Besides, let’s say you don’t, you will but just hypothetically, I don’t care about that. I only want to spend time with you. You dress like a toddler, but I like that, it makes you look goofy, just like your personality.’

With a smile that’s showing his teeth, Eddie presses a quick kiss on Richie’s mouth, pulling back fast and firing two more in rapid succession.

‘I love you Rich. Not fucking Seth, Fuck that guy. I could never want to be with him, ever. I mean it when I say I love you dickwad, despite my questionable decision, I choose you.’

Richie giggles, hearty when Eddie stands on his tippy toes to kiss his forehead, and for a moment he feels like he’s five years old. He’s glad to have Eddie, and he’s even more satisfied that Eddie wants him back. Not amnesia could stand in their way, he’s so idiotic to believe a guy from Eddie’s fucking job could.

‘Now, come on. First I have to kick Seth’s ass for making my boyfriend cry. I have to set an example here. Then we’ll go home and cuddle okay? We'll clean the salmon or whatever the fuck sentence I'm supposed to make with that and skoot on home’

Richie shakes his head negatively, ‘what about your job promotion?’

As if suddenly remembering so, Eddie grins like a cat that go the cream.

‘Don’t worry about that, I got the job.’

When they cuddle at night in their bad, after a heavy make out session, and a small skype party with the losers in honor of Eddie’s promotion, Richie falls asleep, safely knowing that Eddie was with him, and he no matter what, he wasn’t leaving.

#reddie #reddie fluff #some jealousy #eddie kaspbrack #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak imagine #richie tozier imagine #My writing #it chapter two imagine #I wrote this way too late

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angelofthequeers · 5 years ago

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Ladybug and Reine Nuit: Chapter 20

Pixelator

Disclaimer: I don’t own ML.

Okay so I’m extra salty about ‘Animaestro’ and That Guy’s self-insert tantrum but by god am I gay for Buninette

I really don’t like Pixelator, but I do need to introduce Uncle Jagged within this story’s universe, so…yeah, I basically used the necessary intro scene.

@miraculousl4dybug @livinthebilife tagged as requested :)

Check out my Ko-fi for writing commissions!

Chapter 19 | Chapter 21

“I like it!” Tikki chirps. Marinette hums in indecision as she turns her head, examining her reflection from all angles.

“I haven’t worn a bun in years,” she says. “I found the pigtails way cuter and easier. I’m not even sure why I decided to try this today.”

“The bun makes you look cute too!” Tikki says. “You look cute and mature. Not that I don’t like your pigtails!”

“No, no, I know what you mean.” Marinette twirls a lock of hair framing her face to give it a slight wave. “I actually kind of like it.”

“Well, you’ve got about two more minutes to decide before you’re officially running late.”

“What?” Marinette springs into action to grab the nearest pair of jeans and a flowy pink top that’s just big enough to tie it at her waist fashionably. Once she’s dressed, she snatches up her purse and tries to balance hopping down the stairs with pulling on her usual ballet flats, which she thankfully pulls off without tripping and breaking her neck.

For once, she’s actually not late to school, which is probably thanks to Tikki keeping track of time because heaven knows Marinette can’t. She’s still sweaty by the time she makes it there, though, and she needs to collapse on the stairs outside the front of the school to catch her breath. Not only is she not late but…she’s early. She actually has time to relax beforehand rather than freaking out and trying to get to class.

“Dupain-Cheng,” sneers a familiar voice as a shadow looms over her. Marinette rolls her eyes and looks up to see Chloé blocking the sun, hands on hips and smirking widely.

“What now, Chloé?” Marinette sighs. Chloé reaches out and flicks Marinette’s bun.

“After what happened last year, I’m surprised you’ve got the nerve to wear that thing again,” she says. Oh, that’s right. That’s why Marinette’s been wearing pigtails. Her hair used to be long…until Chloé had thought it would be very funny to stick a wad of gum in her bun. As a livid Sabine had carefully and soothingly cut a bawling Marinette’s hair to the length it is now, that’s one of the only times Marinette can remember being terrified of her usually quiet, cheerful mother.

“It’s called change, Chloé,” Marinette says. “Something you don’t seem to understand. You can’t even be nice when it’s Adrien asking.”

“Adrikins and I will always be friends,” Chloé scoffs. “Even if he’s being utterly ridiculous right now. I wouldn’t expect someone like you to understand true friendship like ours.”

“Are you done?” Marinette’s not even annoyed at this point. Honestly, Chloé’s daily antics have just grown exhaustingly bland with the knowledge that she’ll never change and that she’ll just keep being the same old nasty girl, even when she’s lost both her best friends. It’s not like she’s harmless, what with how many people she’s bullied to the point of vulnerability to Hawkmoth. Just…more like a mosquito hanging around and buzzing, rather than a venomous snake constantly striking and biting.

“I’m sorry, am I boring you, Dupain-Cheng?” Chloé says.

“It’s old, Chloé.” Marinette stands up, brushing the dirt off her blue jeans. “You show up, say some mean things, then walk off laughing while I get angry. You can’t even be original when it comes to bullying me.” She turns to head into school.

“Original?” Chloé storms in front of Marinette to block her way with crossed arms and a dangerous scowl. “I am original! Everyone looks up to me! I’m original and exceptional and you’re just a ridiculous –”

“Oh, back off, Chloé,” says Alya from behind Chloé, her arms crossed. Marinette climbs to her feet. “Picking on Marinette is the least original thing about you. Although you are exceptional at being a bully.”

With a snarl, Chloé shoves Marinette out of her way as she storms up the stairs. Marinette shrieks and teeters on the edge of the step, then topples forward and would have cracked her head and ribs if not for Alya rushing to grab her.

“Um…thanks!” Marinette says with a sheepish grin. “Nice reflexes!”

Alya just smirks and pulls Marinette back to her feet. “I gotta have good reflexes with you around, girl. Love the bun, by the way.”

Marinette rolls her eyes with a grin as they head after Chloé at a more sedate pace.

“Marinette!”

Marinette and Alya pause at the top of the steps to let Nino catch up. Before Marinette can react, Nino’s throwing his arms around her and saying, “Thanks again for getting Reine Nuit to take me to see Luka, dude.”

Marinette smiles as warmth blossoms in her belly. “Of course, Nino. I’m glad she could help.”

“Sorry, wait, what exactly am I missing?” Alya says with her hands on her hips.

“Never mind,” Marinette says as Nino releases her. “Just something I did for Nino.”

The three of them head inside for class as the bell rings, Alya pestering Nino for details the whole way there. They’re the last ones into the room, which has erupted in drama with half their classmates on one side and the other half on the other side. Only Chloé’s sitting separate from the drama, painting her nails with a scowl.

“Uh, what’s going on?” Alya says.

“My last video got nuked for graphic violence,” Adrien says sullenly. “Again. I’m losing subscribers because people don’t see the point in sticking around for someone whose videos keep getting taken down.”

“Uh, I can help you make your own blog,” Alya says. “Then you can post whatever. Why didn’t you ask me before?”

“It didn’t occur to me!” Adrien’s eyes start to sparkle. “You’d do that for me, Alya?”

“Yes, yes, because I am a kind and gracious queen.” Alya sits down next to Adrien and pulls out her laptop.

“I get the feeling that’s not what the drama is about,” Marinette says. She’s immediately confronted by Alix, whose eyes are narrowed at her.

“Which team are you on?” Alix demands. Marinette blinks.

“Um…what?”

“Which. Team?” Alix says. She jabs her thumb at the people on Adrien’s side of the room. “Those losers think that Ladrien is where it’s at. But we are dedicated LadyNuit fans.”

“Ladrien? LadyNuit?” Marinette stares at Nino, who just shrugs.

“Ship names!” Rose chirps from the LadyNuit side. “Ladybug with Reine Nuit, or Ladybug with Adrien!”

“Wait, as in…romantic?” Nino says.

“Oh, come on!” Ivan says. “Adrien’s always running after Ladybug! And she’s always saving him! He’s the Lois Lane to her Superman!”

“Yes, there is an eighty six percent chance of Ladybug and Adrien eventually realising their feelings for each other within the next year, what with their obvious fondness for each other,” Max says, adjusting his glasses. “LadyNuit only ranks at –”

“Excuse you, but Reine Nuit is Ladybug’s partner,” Juleka says. “They’d die for each other. They’ve always got each other’s backs.”

“You weren’t there when they kissed!” Kim boasts. “But I was!”

Marinette freezes as ice coats her insides. Out of the corner of her eye, she notices Alya’s cheeks darken furiously. “K-Kissed?” she says.

“Yep!” Kim slides down to the front of the room and slings an arm around Marinette, no doubt thinking that he can lure her to the LadyNuit side. “When I was Dark Cupid and hit Ladybug with an arrow! Reine Nuit kissed her to break the spell after destroying my akuma so she could use Miraculous Ladybug!”

“Because true love defeats hate!” Rose squeals, bouncing up and down.

“It could be platonic love,” Mylène pipes up. “There’s no reason why Reine Nuit’s platonic feelings wouldn’t break the spell.”

As her classmates argue, a dazed Marinette sits down in her usual seat. Nino sits with her, since Alya is currently helping Adrien establish his new blog.

“The Ladyblog!” Alya declares, waving her hands. “It’s perfect!”

“But I like being called Ladybugreste,” Adrien sulks.

“Just use that as your pen name,” Alya says. “And Nino can make up his own name. Duh. Look, you can livestream and upload videos and pictures and posts – I can handle the blog posts, by the way, since I’m the journalist around here – and fans can interact with you and – it’s gonna be so cool!”

“You’re just living vicariously through me, aren’t you?” Adrien says.

“Of course,” Alya grins. “If I can’t be the Ladyblogger then I’ll just have to settle for leading the school blog and nudging my little sunshine apprentice who got in first.”

“Good morning, class!” calls a voice over the din. Everyone immediately shuts up and scrambles to their seats, saying good morning to Ms Bustier as they do so. Alya and Nino switch their seats back in the chaos.

“LadyNuit and Ladrien?” Marinette hisses to Alya, who just shrugs.

“I’m personally on team LadyNuit.”

“Alya!”

Apparently, today is their year’s work experience today at Le Grand Paris, although Marinette can’t be sure if she’d just forgotten this or if she’d been actively trying to block it out. The latter seems more likely when their class arrives at the hotel and not only are Alya and Marinette assigned trash sorter and gopher as jobs respectively, but Chloé’s job is specifically to hang around an uncomfortable Adrien and cling to him. This is payback for the confrontation that morning, isn’t it?

“Wow!” Chloé gasps. An annoyed Marinette turns to see what Chloé’s so stunned over, only to feel her jaw drop to the floor at the sight of Jagged Stone walking into the hotel! Jagged Stone is here? Here?

“Mr Stone, welcome to Le Grand Paris Hotel!” André rushes to simper to Jagged Stone. “I am Mayor Bourgeois, the owner of this luxury establishment; in fact, the most luxurious in all of Paris! How might we serve you?”

“How d’you think?” Jagged Stone says in his British accent. Marinette giggles behind her hand. “I didn't just come here to admire your lobby.”

“Jagged would like to check into your most luxurious suite,” says Jagged Stone’s assistant, a woman with bright purple hair that’s still not as bright as Jagged Stone’s.

“And Fang better get a real bathtub, not a tiny water hole like the one in that hotel across the street!” Jagged Stone adds.

“We have everything you need, Ms Fang,” André says to Jagged Stone’s assistant. “Even a state-of-the-art entertainment centre!”

“That’s Penny,” Jagged Stone says. “Fang’s me crocodile.”

André lets out a nervous little laugh at the sight of the collared crocodile at Jagged Stone’s feet. “Mr Stone, we have everything you require for your…Fang. Would he, um…enjoy a bubble bath?”

“Crocodiles don't like bubble baths. That dries their scales out!”

Marinette frowns at Fang as he trots around a large planter box to where a blond man is hidden with a camera. She nudges Alya and points.

“Oh no, not him again,” Jagged Stone groans when the blond man is frightened out of hiding by Fang.

“Remember me, Mr Stone?” the blond says. “Vincent Aza! Just one photo to show everyone in the world that we're best buds! Come on, please! I'm your biggest fan!”

“I know, you've been to my last thirty-six shows,” Jagged Stone snaps. “But we are not friends.”

When Vincent tries to take a photo with Jagged Stone, Penny promptly ejects him from the hotel. Once the stalker fan is gone, André personally escorts Jagged Stone, Penny, and Fang to their room, with Marinette and Ms Bustier following, although Marinette can’t figure out why she’s being dragged along. Not that she’s complaining when she gets to be in the same elevator as Jagged Stone!

“Mr Stone is going to need a new pair of shades for tonight's gig,” Penny says once Jagged is settling into his room by playing hoops with Fang. “Red, white, and blue, with two large Eiffel Towers on them. Can you get that for him?”

“Of course we can!” André says. “Marinette here is our gopher. She'll take care of that for you.”

“Huh?” Marinette says. André leans in to whisper in her ear.

“A gopher is an employee who goes for anything a customer needs. Anything at all. So, go ahead. Goph!”

With a sigh, Marinette trudges out of the room and leans against the wall. “How am I supposed to find those sunglasses?” she complains. “They don’t exist! Ugh, I knew Chloé was setting me up to fail.”

“Then don’t give her that satisfaction,” Tikki says, poking her head out of Marinette’s purse. “So what if they don’t exist? Get creative!”

Marinette gasps as an idea strikes. “You’re right, Tikki!” she says, speeding down the hallway. “Let’s go!”

Once at home, she rummages in her drawer until she finds an old pair of sunglasses, then pops the lenses out and gets to work. It takes the better part of an hour, but she manages to create a pair of sunglasses with two large Eiffel Towers over the lens holes in the French flag colours, and so she runs back to the hotel to deliver them. She’s gasping and panting as she hands them to Penny, who looks a little concerned for her wellbeing but promises to pass them on to Jagged Stone when he’s finished resting.

Just as Marinette’s about to enter the elevator to head back down for her next assignment, a bright flash of light bursts behind her. Her eyes widen at the sight of the bright blue and black figure standing in the doorway to Jagged Stone’s room, and she ducks into the elevator and cries, “Tikki, spots on!” Her work experience is going to have to wait a while. Hopefully she doesn’t fail from lack of effort in the meantime…

BONUS:

“I'd like to dedicate this song to the girl who saved my life!” Jagged Stone announces at his concert that night, wearing Marinette’s sunglasses, while everyone in Ms Bustier’s class minus Chloé cheers from the front row. “This one's for you, Ladybug!”

Best. Day. Ever.

#miraculous ladybug #aotq fic #aotq: reine nuit au #chat!alya #marinette dupain-cheng #alya cesaire #autistic adrien agreste #nino lahiffe #chloe bourgeois #miracuclass #ladynuit #ladrien #ship wars just got real #pixelator #also chloe stfu #marinette is done with chloe's crap

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lit--bitch · 5 years ago

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Current-Reads (13/04/20 - 18/04/20) 🎺🐝

(Disclosure: I know one of the writers (Annie Dobson) I’m featuring in the current-reads this week through Writing Squad. I also know Tom Bland who runs Spontaneous Poetics but I don’t personally know the two writers whose work I’ve enjoyed on the zine. And I don’t know anybody else sadly, probably because I’m a loner and a loser).

Here’s the standard preface: every Sunday without fail I throw up the freshest literature and photography I’ve read over the week, sometimes it’s a book, sometimes it’s a piece I saw in a magazine or an online zine, sometimes it’s something I saw on social media, etc. Sometimes I add ‘RECOMMEND’ next to a few of the titles, but that’s not to say I don’t recommend all of them, I just love some pieces more than others. C’est la vie. And any titles that you see in bold are hyperlinked so if you click or tap them they’ll direct you straight to the source... or shopping basket.

Anyway I’m just gonna get right into it.

So this week I’ve been reading C.C. Hannett / kmwgh’s Lockdown Life and Charles Theonia’s Two Poems on Queen Mob’s Teahouse, I’ve read Haibun/Uncertainty/A Promise To Your Clothes from Jane Burns on Spontaneous Poetics and I flipped right back to September 2019 and re-read E.A.B’s have a wank because it’s fitting advice for our current predicament. I’ve returned to Patrick Süskind’s Perfume and I’ve been falling in love with Ariana Reines’s The Cow all over again, (whose new collection, A Sand Book, I’ll be reviewing in a few weeks time). Also been reading Annie Dobson’s Before The Ghost Town on the Writing Squad’s Staying Home series which boasts brilliant work. I can never get over how many amazing writers there are in the world. I’ve also discovered a new photographer with a brand new book out from Palm* Studios, Molly Matalon’s When a Man Loves a Woman.

***

E.A.B’s have a wank, Spontaneous Poetics (21/09/2019): I keep going back to this specific piece because this poem makes you feel like you’re stood outside the John Snow in Soho, completely wasted, having a cig with a friend who’s also pissed up too. That’s the feeling I get from E.A.B’s work. She’s memorable and familiar and probably has a decent right hook. This poem is short, succinct, and means exactly what it means. I love work that is entitled quite plainly, in a way doesn’t subvert expectation—it’s tongue-in-cheek and funny. It’s also pretty good advice for when you’re in the midst of a global pandemic... or a personal crisis, I’m not sure what the difference is anymore. She also has another one up on Spontaneous Poetics, which is equally brilliant, blue balls at the end of humanity.

Jane Burn’s Haibun/Uncertainty/A Promise To Your Clothes, Spontaneous Poetics (17/04/2020): This is a deeply sad poem eclipsed by grief and time’s relentless push and pull. It also has some absolutely beautiful personification, and it’s in the description of these vernacular objects that you really feel the subject’s hurting. ‘You’ is so empowering here, because it attempts to universalise the reader’s accessibility to the ardour of experience in this work, but is equally an attempt to sever the writer’s ‘You’ from themselves as ‘I’. This poem tells us that some pain is so painful, we can never fully accept that it has been ours to bear.

Annie Dobson’s Before The Ghost Town, Staying Home from The Writing Squad (RECOMMEND): I’m not saying this just to be kind, all of the work on Staying Home is absolutely brilliant (discluding my own work, I promise I’m not that full of it) but Annie’s piece happened to be one of the first I read and I still think about it. Annie probably doesn’t know this but I stalk her writing. I’m her big fat secret admirer. Quintessentially British, her work smacks of kitchen-sink realism and cherry chapsticks you get in the chemist’s. I always get a noughties vibe from Annie’s writing, I always know what she’s on about. She doesn’t make the banality of life mystical, she treats the ordinary as well, just ordinary, and that’s magical enough anyway. Before The Ghost Town is a mish-mash of genres, it’s an essay but it’s a thought piece but it reads like a diary-entry and is formatted like poetry in some places. More than anything it’s a document on civilisation in Lewisham during the Covid-19 pandemic, and how full the world is still despite the reductive effects of a worldwide crisis. It’s a political critique on how fucked the UK government is, and how community is still one of the most valuable things we have in a world that is trying to make you fight over the last bag of fucking bread flour. It’s honest and sad and retrospective. It’s also filled with promise. I absolutely loved it.

Molly Matalon, When a Man Loves a Woman: For a long time I shot pictures of men on 35mm to 120mm. I often felt strange doing it. I was used to the dogma of typical male politics; boys don’t cry, having a tough dad, penis envy, etc. It didn’t interest me anymore; the object of masculinity in its most vulnerable, in its deepest sensitivities was the impetus behind my desire to photograph men. Molly Matalon takes pictures of men I wish I had taken. But I don’t think she reverses the power dynamics, per se, although you can absolutely make the case for this, even argue her work is a case for the female gaze. But for me, she strips away these typical power dynamics, she doesn’t polarise herself as the subject, or the object. I don’t see tensions between sexes in these images. I see vulnerability, I see trust, I see relationships. I see men just as worthy of depiction as flowers, as fruits. I feel softness, I feel curves. The photographs in When a Man Loves a Woman are works of of idealisation of woman is implied by man, man as woman, woman as man, the fragile unity in these two creatures, and their reciprocations. She’s absolutely one to watch.

Ariana Reines, The Cow (RECOMMEND): Ariana Reines is a writer so dear to me, that I can’t really contain in words just how much impact she’s had on me. I salute Elizabeth Ellen (a wonderful writer, and an editor at HOBART magazine in Los Angeles) who, one day, was moving apartments and very generously sent me a box of books all the way from the USA to my parents’ house in Manchester. In that box amongst many books lay Tiqqun’s Theory of the Young-Girl translated by Ariana Reines, and her debut collection, The Cow. So if it wasn’t for Elizabeth, I wouldn’t have read any Ariana Reines until probably much later on in life. At least, I’d like to think I’d have come across Ariana at some point anyway.

The Cow was published in 2006 by my all-time fav magazine/publisher, Fence. The Cow isn’t poetry, isn’t prose, it’s not an essay, it’s just not any genre at all. And the fact you can’t categorise it is just really is emblematic of Ariana Reines as a writer, because she doesn’t redefine the dimensions of genres, she fucking blitzes them up in a big genre-food-processor. The Cow is the mythologisation and de-mythologisation of the woman as cow. It is the consumption and defecation of woman as cow. It is a lamentation. It is raw. It is beastly. It is thoughts and statistics and menstruation and abbattoirs. It is a dark work of art, and it’s one of the most beautiful, angry and strong texts I’ve ever read. It’s one of those books I think about often. I’d be engrossed on London tubes re-reading this over and over. It’s absolutely everything.

Patrick Süskind, Perfume (RECOMMEND): Ah, the mothership. Patrick Süskind is... one of a kind. I borrowed the book from my best friend James and after reading it, I read it again. I still haven’t given back James’s copy (which I really need to), and I recently bought a UK first-edition of Perfume so now I can say it’s on my bookshelf. Reading Perfume is an intoxicating experience... I guess it’s because of the way Süskind writes about smell, and he writes about it so vividly that, for me at least, it can induce olfactory hallucinations. It’s not just about the story of a murderer with a superhuman power for scent, it’s about our relationship with different smells we come across throughout our life, their pungency and their ability to kind of tattoo our memory. You can recall scents in a way that you might not be able to with sounds. I don’t remember fully the way my maternal grandmother sounded, she passed when I was a little girl, but I still know her smell. It’s Youth Dew and sweets. Perfume induces sensations and memories in me. It’s a text I go back to time and time again.

C.C. Hannett / kmwgh’s Lockdown Life, Queen Mob’s Tea House (03/04/2020): Queen Mob’s Tea House is a new fav of mine and their zine kind of reminds me of the Richmond Tea Rooms in Manchester’s Gay Village. They’re a bit Alice in Wonderland, a bit occult, a bit down-the-rabbit-hole, pink and sparkly, with black lace. If that description of the zine borders on pretension then, sorry. I have zine synaethesia. So these poems from ‘C.C. Hannett / kmwgh’ (I’m not sure I understand the name) were awesome little tidbits on living through a global pandemic. An ellision of pop culture, absurdity and tenderness. A reminder that we will never get this time back, and that if you’ve got the luxury of being with your loved ones right now, cherish it. I also really loved the last line of this guy’s bio, no social media handles or website, just: “You can find him if you want to.” Lol.

Charles Theonia, Two Poems, Queen Mob’s Tea House (24/05/2017) (RECOMMEND): I loved both of these poems but I mostly wanted to talk about ‘shame’. I enjoyed ‘shame’ for its density—it’s a single block paragraph—the format has a weight to it, like that of feeling shame. I know this was published in 2017, basically I was just surfing the zine’s website and clicked on Queen of Pentacles (I was intrigued bc I read Tarot) and this was the latest entry on there. I enjoy the bluntness and conversational-ism of these two pieces, but I particularly loved ‘shame’ for the way it unpacks shame as a multi-faceted, festering spawn that drags you under, and under, and under. Its resonance is powerful.

*** Anyway that is enough from me zis week. Next Friday I’m reviewing Charlotte Geater’s poems for my fbi agent which is again from Bad Betty Press. Stay safe, eat cake. xxxxxx

#currently reading #poetry #contemporary literature #books #reviews #litbitch

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bigskydreaming · 5 years ago

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Shit. I need to start writing all of these down in one place. Y’know, since it’ll literally never be relevant but since when has that mattered to me.

Kalen’s Ideal X-Film Casting (no it does not matter that this is too many characters to fit in a single film USE YOUR IMAGINATION gdi)

and in no particular order other than Iceman first because that one is very important to me look it just is:

Iceman - Manny Jacinto

The Frost Siblings, Adrienne, Emma, Christian and Cordelia - Ming Na Wen, Lucy Liu, Godfrey Gao and Elodie Yung (who here is their half sibling, with a Cambodian mother and the same father as the others)

Dazzler - Janelle Monae

Richter (I know its actually Rictor, but that’s been bugging me for decades, I say we ignore canon and go with the idea his codename makes more sense as his last name and his last name’s spelling makes more sense for his code name) - Michael Trevino

Cyclops - Chris Pine

Jean Grey - Nicole Beharie, because I have to fancast her somewhere in every fancast I do as Justice for Sleepy Hollow, its the Law, but also I just really think she has that “I am the caring headmistress that all students should feel comfortable coming to with their problems, but also sometimes I devour suns and destroy solar systems, nbd” energy. Also also, casting her as Jean ALSO means potentially casting her as Maddy Pryor and Nicole!Jean vs Nicole!Maddy? COULD YOU IMAGINE?

Also, I am a shallow, greedy bisexual, and the second I pictured Chris Pine and Nicole Beharie together my brain exploded and I am typing the rest of this from The Other Side, Adele says to say hello.

Havok - Dead and irrelevant

Cece Reyes - Rosario Dawson (there definitely need to be a wider pool of Afro-latinx actors drawn from for fancastings, but she’s freaking perfect for Cece and this is the role that Claire Temple should have been anyway IMO)

Gambit - Gaspard Ulliel

Rogue - Angelica Ross (credit to @gingerjab for this one, I’m STUCK on it now and its all his fault, ugh he’s so problematic)

Monet (and she needs her full name dropped at least once, obvsly: Monet Yvette Clarisse Maria Therese St. Croix) - Anna Diop

Destiny - Jane Fonda

Cannonball - Ryan Kwanten

Quicksilver - Jesus Castro

Neal Shaara - Karan Tacker

Dani Moonstar - Julia Jones

Banshee - Ewan McGregor (I’m aware he’s Scottish and casting him as an Irish character is a crime but I’m Irish and thus I’m allowed to say its okay I’m pretty sure it says that in the Bible so shh)

Tom Cassidy - David Giuntoli

Ink Leon Nunez aka the actual mutant responsible for Ink The Fraud’s powers in canon, and who deserves the focus canon has actually given that loser skinhead in his place, Redemption For Leon Nunez - Diego Tinoco (also I just really like him in OMB and wanted to cast him as someone and I couldn’t decide between Velocidad or Hellion and then I thought of this guy instead)

Colossus - Danila Kozlovsky

Magik - I gotta come back to her because I actually have like, three different ones depending on which age ‘Yana you go with but I can only find two of them and I can’t do an Incomplete, wtf

Longshot - Daniel Henney

Blink - Dominique Tipper because it just works but also she’s of Dominican descent and Clarice Ferguson was originally black and from the Caribbean, with all due respect to Fan Bingbing and Jamie Chung who likely had no idea given most comic book fans don’t even know.

Captain Britain - Trevor Donovan. Look, he’s big, buff and goofy and really what more do you need when casting Brian Braddock? Those are the three essentials, don’t overthink him. Also, Trevor Donovan attempting a British accent through several movies sounds HILARIOUS to me and worth the price of admission alone, and after so many British actors attempting American accents with varying degrees of success in superhero films, turnabout is fair play.

Northstar - Zachary Quinto cuz he’s gay and his years playing Spock can be deemed prep work for playing Jean-Paul’s arrogance

There’s like thirty more because that’s how many X-Men there are and that’s not even getting to the students, but I gotta stop now because Adult Responsibilities and also I can’t find the one I came up with for Lila Cheney and its BUGGING ME cuz it was perfect and I have to find it before I can keep going.

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thesydneyfeminists · 6 years ago

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Netflix’s “Sex Education” Review

The Netflix original show “Sex Education” was released less three weeks ago, but it’s already creating quite the stir on social media. And its popularity is not surprising. In the span of just 8 episodes, “Sex Education” packs a large and memorable punch. As one review states, “The show, starring Gillian Anderson (Jean Milburn), Asa Butterfield (Otis Milburn), Emma Mackey (Maeve Wiley) and others, tackles tough topics that are central to teens’ lives - homosexuality, body shaming and female solidarity - in very real, digestible scenarios” (click here for link). In its first season, “Sex Education” confronts a range of raw and relatable themes, while embracing the full awkwardness of sex and life in general. It’s a great show of its own accord, and one I would highly recommend to all feminists, especially younger ones. Unlike many shows, “Sex Education” doesn’t just throw around catchy buzzwords – it does a magnificent job of establishing and following through on its feminist messages.

At first glance, “Sex Education” is a just another show about teens having sex. One might be tempted to make parallels with Netflix’s “Big Mouth,” due to the somewhat raunchy nature of both shows. Others have drawn parallels to Netflix’s “The End of the F*cking World” (click here for link) because of their shared British humor. The setting is a quirky blend of British and American culture, which encompasses both 80s/90s nostalgia and modern references and technologies. In many ways, the series draws on a long heritage of teenage dramas and romcoms. However, as another review suggests, “that stereotype-laden summary fails to communicate how Sex Education brilliantly subverts the assumptions made through labels like jock, mean girl, dunce, weirdo, therapist, popular, loser, gay, lesbian, slut (or slag), and virgin” (Click here for link). Once you delve into the series, you realize “Sex Education” is much more than it appears. It is a formidable addition to any feminist’s to-watch list.

For starters, the representation on “Sex Education” is expansive and not forced in the least. LGBTQIA+ relationships abound, people of color characters have some of the most compelling storylines in the show, and different class backgrounds are explored in depth. The heartthrob of the school is a young, black athlete with two moms battling anxiety. One of the main characters in the show lives alone in a trailer park, after her father and brother deserted her and her mother left due to addiction. Another main character, also black, is the most openly gay person at his school and loves to experiment with makeup and feminine dress. Of course, Netflix shouldn’t be lauded for FINALLY upping its representation game. It’s been a long time in the making. However, it is refreshing to see people from so many and varied backgrounds in one show, especially one that explores sex and sexuality as openly as “Sex Education.”

Another big draw for any feminist viewers of “Sex Education” is the largely women-led writing team. For a show about sex, the inclusion of women writers is truly a breath of fresh air. On the topic of their writing team, Laurie Nunn, Australian-British writer/ playwright and creator of “Sex Education,” commented, “it’s a show with a very feminist heart and having a female-heavy writing team definitely helped bring certain issues to the forefront of storytelling” (click here for link). Although there is a lot of sex and nudity in the show, none of it comes off as inappropriate or pornographic. Instead, the show speaks about women’s and girl’s desires in a candid and unabashed way. A similar show could have been written by men, but it’s hard to believe it would have been done with half as much wit and sincerity surrounding the experiences of its female characters.

The show “Sex Education” also does a better job of educating people on sex than most high schools (mine included). The running joke throughout the show is that Otis, the main character and son of a sex therapist, is better at running sex ed than the teachers. Alongside heavier topics such as STIs and abortion, the show engages with genitals in a powerful and transformative manner. One episode focuses extensively on the shame many young women feel about their vaginas. Emma Mackey, who plays main character Maeve Wiley, states, “There are lots of young women who feel like they have an ugly vagina … I just find it so sad, and I really hope … this show will open conversations around topics like that” (click here for link). Even as an adult, the episode referenced in this quote reassured me that all vaginas are perfect just the way they are – a much needed message for all to hear.

Many of the reviews for “Sex Education” focus on the amazing women creator, writers and characters on the show. They certainly deserve praise. However, I also want to bring attention to the ways in which the show treats its male characters. Even the one signature “tough guy” has a rich and deserving backstory, dealing with his traumatic relationship with his father. But there are also plenty of examples of wholesome relationships between boys and young men. In one of my favorite scenes of the show, Otis apologizes to his best friend Eric by asking him to dance during the “couple’s song” at their school dance. Seeing two young boys with no romantic interest in one another dance together in front of their entire school was a moment of pure joy for me. Feminism has always included in its goals the abolishment of toxic masculinity. So, any show that promotes healthy relationships between boys and young men scores an A+ with this feminist.

The final reason I personally recommend “Sex Education” is because it is a quiet yet mighty feminist show. Plenty of corporations have profited from the most recent rise of feminism. It would be naïve to suggest Netflix didn’t cash in on this type of corporatized “wokeness.” Still, “Sex Education” does not reek of the same kind of desperate appeal towards mainstream feminism as some other Netflix shows. You can tell the producers and writers are not trying to drop just the right amount of activist lingo, without actually unbalancing the status quo. They are simply telling the stories of young people, with a thoughtful commitment to inclusivity. As one reviewer writes, “Each character's journey, whether a main plot or side story, is an amalgamation of quietly unexpected revelations. Sex Education … delivers a story about real people and the complex mess of contradictions that we are” (click here for link). And it does so with careful attention to many of feminism’s main goals.

By: Brittany L.

Image Sources

Otis, Maeve and Eric: https://www.hindustantimes.com/tv/sex-education-review-netflix-pops-2019-s-cherry-with-its-best-show-in-months/story-TmGKfmBEaQgOT7z3ZFLqxI.html

Eric and lesbian couple: https://www.pride.com/tv/2019/1/08/netflixs-sex-education-lets-teen-hormones-run-wild-even-gay-ones

Otis and Jean (mother): https://www.rollingstone.com/tv/tv-reviews/sex-education-review-774591/

Otis and Eric: https://www.popsugar.com/entertainment/Funny-Memes-Tweets-About-Eric-Netflix-Sex-Education-45703556

Disclaimer: The views expressed in this piece do not necessarily reflect the views of The Sydney Feminists Inc. Our Blogger and Tumblr serve as platforms for a diverse array of writers to put forth their ideas and explore topics.

#Sex Education #netflix sex education #feminist #feminist review #review of Netflix's Sex Education #Netflix #intersectionality #intersectional feminism #feminist TV shows #review

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chuckaliclous · 7 years ago

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7 minutes in Heaven//Reddie

Here’s a high school Reddie 7 minutes in heaven fic for you guys!

tag list:

@trashrichie

@stan-ur-is-my-son

@bostergold

@plsshutuprichie

@steve-harringtwin

Bill’s house was booming with the trash music playing from the speakers, Eddie was sure the house itself was shaking from it. His parents were gone for the weekend, so Bill naturally decided to throw a rager. Eddie didn’t want to go, but evidently had no choice once Trashmouth showed up at his door and practically forced Eddie into his car, making fun of his little red shorts with the rainbow patch on the side all the while.

“You’ve really out-gayed yourself, Eds!”

“Beep fucking beep asshole!”

Richie made fun of those shorts all the time, but he’d never admit that he secretly loved them. He loved how Eddie’s legs looked in them and he loved how he wore white knee socks with them but shoved the socks down to his ankles anyway. Richie absolutely adored Eddie in every way. But that’s probably the only thought that would never leave his mouth.

They arrived at the party “fashionably late” as Richie called it, while Eddie just called it late. Richie pulled out a Winston from the pocket in his leather jacket he stole from lost and found at school and stuck it in his mouth before entering the house.

The house was alive with Derry High kids crawling like ants with plastic red cups that they clung to like their lives depended on it. Eddie wrinkled his nose at the smell of strong alcohol wafting in the air. “C’mon, Eds.” Richie muttered as he threw his arm around Eddie, leading him to the living room where the Losers were gathered.

Bev, Mike, Ben, Bill, and Stan were sitting in a circle around a bottle and all jumped up as soon as they saw the two boys enter the room. “Hey! Trashmouth and Wheezy are here!” Bev yelled, slurring her words heavily.

Richie gave her a friendly peck on the cheek and held his nose in a showy way. “Is Miss Scawlett a wittle tipsy?” He mocked, and she shoved him a little harder than she intended.

He wobbled and fell into Bill, who barely caught him. The Losers were all pretty tipsy it seemed. “Now, what ah we doing heyah?” Richie asked in his British voice, plopping down next to the other Losers and making room for him and Eddie in the circle.

Bev giggled. “I bet youuuu want to go next, Richieeee.” She hissed like it was some secret everyone knew but Eddie and Richie.

The Losers laughed along with her. “C’mon, Rich!” Bill chastised. “Give it a spin!”

“Will someone tell me what the fuck we’re doing first?” Richie spat out, annoyed at his friends.

Stan walked over and whispered lazily in Richie’s ear, “Seven. Minutes. In. Heaven.” He laughed a breathy laugh and the Losers exploded into more laughter.

Richie put his arms out in front of him in the surrender position. “Are you saying you’re gay for me, Stanley?”

Stanley laughed and ruffled Richie’s hair. “No, but I know someone who is!”

Eddie jumped, shooting Stan a wide-eyed panicked expression. Thankfully, Richie looked confused as hell.

“C’mon Richieeee!” Bev squealed, forcing him up and shoving him in the closet. His cries of protest were barely even audible over the roar of music and laughter after she slammed the closet door.

“Bev!” Eddie grabbed onto her shirt hastily. “What are you doing!”

She chuckled a bit, spraying Eddie with leftover beer spittle. He quickly wiped it off his face and gagged. “This is what you want!” She nudged him towards the closet. “Don’t tell me you don’t have a crush on Ri-”

“Shh!” He put his hand over her mouth so Richie wouldn’t hear. “Are you crazy, Beverly?”

“Eddie he wants it too!” She yelled in his face.

He ignored the alcohol on her breath. “Wh-What?”

She laughed. “Get in there Eddie!” She pushed him into the dark closet and shut the door behind him, Eddie toppling over straight onto Richie, sitting on the floor.

“Ow!” Eddie yelped.

“Are you okay?” Richie helped him get settled in the dark, sitting in front of him.

“Y-Yeah, I’m fine.” Eddie was glad Richie couldn’t see him blushing.

Richie knew what was going on. He wasn’t drunk. And he wasn’t stupid. The drunk Losers had just revealed what Eddie had been dying to tell Richie since they were 13. And Richie wasn’t upset.

The silence was deafening. Eddie didn’t like the dark, and he kept inching closer to Richie. “Rich?” He whispered.

“Shh.” Richie muttered, putting out his hand to find Eddie’s face.

Eddie felt Richie’s hand gently grasp his cheek and his breath caught in his throat. “Richie, what are you-”

Then before Eddie knew it, Richie’s lips were pressed against his fervently. The two boys kissed feverishly, wrapping their arms around each other and Eddie’s fingers running through Richie’s hair clumsily. Richie tasted of cigarettes, but for once, Eddie didn’t mind the smell.

Eddie shut his eyes tight and swore he could feel colors on the older boy’s lips. Richie liked the taste of cherry chapstick on Eddie’s soft lips, and made a mental note that they really should have done this sooner.

The boys got lost in the moment, and the door swung open loudly. They broke apart quickly, but there the Losers stood, having fully witnessing Eddie and Richie locking lips.

They broke out into fits of mirthful giggles. “Do you know how long we’ve been waiting for that?!” Beverly shouted in the boys’ red faces, causing the other Losers to chime in their “yeah!”’s.

“I guess I have too,” Richie mumbled, gazing up at Eddie with a soft gaze Eddie had never seen before. Eddie smiled, and that was all the response Richie needed.

Richie glanced up at the others expectantly. “So, you Losers gonna leave us alone now, or what?”

“Beep beep, Trashmouth,” Eddie laughed before smashing his lips into Richie’s again.

#reddie #reddie fic #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #trashmouth #eds #beep beep richy

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sorenserotonin · 7 years ago

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Momentary Losers Chapter 2

AO3 link

chapter 1 chapter 3

Summary: Richie and his bandmates get back from a tour to meet Stan's boyfriend Bill, and Bill's small and anxious best friend Eddie. From the moment they met, Richie was infatuated, but he was sure Eddie hated his guts. How could he not? Richie was everything Eddie wasn't. Little did Richie know, everyone has a little bit of a "Total Disaster" in them.

there are mentions of doing hard drugs and mentions of alcohol use so like,, just a warning also richie makes some gross jokes but hes richie so

Ships: Richie Tozier/Eddie Kaspbrak, Stanley Uris/Bill Denbrough, Beverly Marsh/Ben Hanscom, Mike Hanlon/Richie Tozier, Stanley Uris/Mike Hanlon (eventually)

The sun is shining, it’s summer. Four teens sitting on the ledge on a cliff. “We’re gonna get out of here as soon as we can, right?” the red headed girl asked.

The boy with the dark skin and soft smile placed his hand on her thigh. They looked each other in the eyes. “Yeah. Yeah, we are.”

“Before we go, I gotta give Stan’s mom a kiss,” Richie added, not quite ruining the moment. Mike put his arm around Richie’s shoulder.

Stan rolled his eyes as Beverly laughed. “How can you kiss her if you already drowned?” Stan smiled at his best friend.

“Stan the man gets off a good one.”

Richie was being shaken awake and he slowly opened his eyes. He was laying face down on the couch in the living room. It took him a few seconds to realize he was home, and not in a moving vehicle. He looked up at person who woke him up, unsurprised to see a familiar blur. He blinked his eyes, forgetting that he just has terrible vision.

“Wake up dumbass, make me breakfast,” it was Stan.

Richie smiled. “I come home and the hubby wants me to make him food as soon as I wake up. Cassandra I wanna leave him, but what about the kids?” Richie’s voice was high pitched and he managed a pretty southern drawl, sounding like a housewife from Kentucky. He sat up, rubbing his eyes, and replied to himself in a different version of the same voice, this one a bit lower. “Well I dunno Vicki, I just do what Mark asks me to,” he stretched and yawned.

“I don’t know, I kinda wanna just stab him and end it, Cassie,” Stan did an awful version of the first voice.

Richie laughed, grabbing his glasses off of the coffee table. “God, I’ve missed you,” he stood up.

Stan smiled. “I’ve missed you too, nerd. Now, go make breakfast. Mike left last night with Bev and Ben and I have a hangover.”

Richie smiled, glad that he didn’t drink last night. He did however, do a line of coke with Bill. Ah, bonding with one's best friends’ boyfriend can only go two ways with Richie Tozier. Stan had gotten hammered, kissing Bill sloppily, and crying about how much he missed Bev, Mike, and especially Richie. Richie wouldn’t be surprised if Stan was still a little drunk.

They all had gotten a little high that night, except Eddie, he wouldn’t go near any of the drugs. Richie was the only one that hadn’t touched any alcohol. Eddie, had drank the most, rambling about how nervous he was. He explained how weird it was being around so many people, but he slurred his words as he talked to himself. He laughed at everything anyone else said, and Richie called him adorable.

They had all left, Bill and Eddie taking an Uber. Eddie had laughed about the irony of an Uber driver calling for an Uber. Ben was the most sober out of them all, drinking a little at the beginning of their small gathering, and sobering up enough by the end. He took Mike home with him and Bev.

Now Richie was wearing nothing but his boxers, one sock, and his glasses. He put his hair in a messy bun so he could cook without having a hairy disaster. Stan lifted himself onto the counter, and pulled his phone from his pocket. He turned it on and winced at the brightness, immediately turning it down. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Ay, dare I say that this is the effect of alcohol,” Richie smiled as he flipped the vegan bacon. He did a british accent, winking at Stan.

Richie isn't vegan, but Stan is. When with Stan, Richie adheres to veganism to support his best friend. He understood that Stan’s reason for it was that it was the best way for him to respect himself, the world, and his religion. Richie didn't have the same concerns, being raised Catholic but dropping religion for a carefree lifestyle, however he wanted to help Stan in anyway he could. That meant having vegan products in the house, that meant going to vegan kosher restaurants together, and he even went to Stan's bar mitzvah when they were just middle schoolers in Derry, Maine.

Stan glared at him. “Shut the fuck up,” he rolled his eyes.

Stan usually was the one to cook. Richie wasn’t the best cook, but he wasn’t bad. “Did you take an aspirin?” Richie asked.

Stan noodded. “Yeah and I threw up as soon as I woke up. Darted right into the bathroom, then I woke you up.”

“Aw, such a blessing that you thought of lil ol’ me as you blew chunks,” Richie laughed, licking his lips.

Richie missed this. Having breakfast with Stan after a party. He missed spending time with Stan. Stan was always busy running the lgbt youth center while Richie was gone. He kept himself busy.

Now, they were eating breakfast and drinking orange juice. Stan was wearing a neon t shirt that Richie had given him a few years back. Along with a pair of Marilyn Monroe sweatpants, Stan was wearing his pajamas. Richie was wearing his pajamas too. Minus the other sock. He usually just slept in his boxers and a pair of socks, half the time kicking either one or both socks off in his sleep.

“You've been wearing your glasses a lot recently,” Stan said after a long silence.

Richie shrugged. “Easier than putting in my contacts.”

Stan noddded. “Some girls on social media have already photoshopped flower crowns onto pictures of you in your glasses.”

Richie cracked a smile. “Was your mom the first one to start the trend?”

Stan rolled his eyes. This was normal. Richie liked making jokes about Stan's mom. Stan rolled his eyes at these jokes. It didn't matter now that Stan was texting his boyfriend. It didn't matter that Richie was kind of sad that his best friend was splitting his attention. This was normal to them.

“I promised the kids that you would be there today. Do you want me to come?” Stan asked after he finished his food.

“I know I made you breakfast and all that but I don't think Bill or the kids would appreciate me making you come,” Richie winked.

Stan scoffed. “As if.”

Richie smiled, doing his best Jamie Kennedy impression. “Oh really Alicia? ‘as if’?”

Stan finally laughed. “You're a mess.”

“And you love me.”

When they arrived at the youth center, Richie was wearing his contacts. He also was wearing a button up that looked like a bowling alley carpet, with plaid pants with ripped knees. Stan said that the clashing patterns gave him a headache, but Richie just stuck his tongue out and stuck up his middle finger.

When they stepped inside, Richie greeted the 18 year old volunteer at the desk. She gave him a big smile. When Stan stopped at the desk, she took a deep breath as a light blush spread across her face. Richie crouched, putting his elbows on the desk. “Y’know Al, you gotta show me how you do your makeup,” he waved his hand in front of his face. “Love the pride colors,” he smiled.

Al smiled. She was wearing a nude lipstick and her eyeshadow in the bi pride colors. The pink and purple were used as a smoky eye base, and she used blue eyeliner. “Takes a lot of practice, I’ll tell you that.”

“I’m sure Bev would also like some tips, right Stan?”

Stan shrugged. “I’m sure that if she saw how talented Al is she would love some tips,” That’s what Richie was looking for. He knew that a compliment from Stan would make the girls day. “Let’s go check on the others and make sure no one is dead,” Stan grabbed Richie’s arms and lifted him up.

Richie saluted Al as he and Stan walked inside. “Stanthony you can’t lead the poor girl on,” Richie put his arm around Stan’s shoulder.

Stan rolled his eyes. “She’s 18, Richie. I also have a boyfriend, y’know because I’m gay.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, but you haven’t told her that it’s inappropriate, for all she knows you’re playing hard to get,” Richie pursed his lips and paused for a second. “Maybe that’s why Mike never asked you out.”

Stan sighed. “Richie we all know that Mike never asked me out because he likes you more. May God help him.”

Richie scoffed. “Just because he blows me-”

Stan lightly punched Richie as a group of teenagers ran over to them. Richie immediately recognized all of them. He gave each of them a hug and listened to them as they told him about stuff they or Stan did while he was gone. Zoe showed him some of their art and he couldn’t help but praise the kid. They had such great talent. Richie couldn’t wait to give them their binder on Christmas.

One of the teens took Stan to turn on the radio. As soon as the music started, Richie knew Stan would change the song. “Leave it!” he shouted, then heard Stan groan.

“Rich, this isn’t even one of your good songs!”

I'm gettin' bi

Oh yeah, I'm lettin' my bi flag fly

Not gonna hide it, not gonna lie

I'm a bi kinda guy

There’s no reason to be shy

My oh my, it's a fact I can't deny

I'm bi, bi, bi until the day I die

After a few hours of making sure everything was okay at the center, and that it would be ready to be a shelter that night, Richie and Stan picked Mike, Ben, and Bev up for lunch. Mike was vegan, but Bev and Ben weren’t. The couple still agreed to have a vegan meal with them.

When Stan left the table to go to the bathroom, Bev picked her food up with her fork and put it on Richie’s plate. “I don’t like it,” she said quietly. “It’s not real chicken.”

“Then you should have gotten something that didn’t have a meat substitute,” Ben shrugged.

Richie nearly choked on his food. “Ben, I didn’t know you needed a substitute. Bev, why didn’t you tell me? I would happily-”

“Beep beep Richie,” Mike said, with a small smile on his face. He liked the joke, but he at least had enough manners not to laugh at that joke in public.

Bev snorted. “As if you could do any better in bed than Ben.”

“Is that a challenge? Ben, you wanna watch while I fuck your girlfriend?”

Ben coughed, his face going red. Bev let out a loud laugh, clapping her hand on Ben’s back. Mike bit his lip to keep from laughing too loud. Stan approached the table, a small frown on his face. “Did Richie say something about me while I was gone?”

Mike didn’t stop himself from laughing this time. Bev hadn’t stopped laughing, tears were now streaming down her face. Ben rolled his eyes. “No, they’re laughing at me.”

Stan gave a small nod. “Gotta watch what you say around him.”

Tag list:

@lousytrashmouth @beepbeepbabe @queertrashmouth @gospelofthewitch @presumptuousofyou @festive-wheeler @rochibi @burymestanding @i-is-gazebo @ohheydatsme @supernaturalslytherinintheimpala @maisy-the-fangirl @novopsi @sugarandsaltandeverythingthot @colorful-dodie @aristosachaiov @bitchierrichie @sweetbadheart @arklcat

#it #momentary losers #band au #reddie #stenbrough #benverly #hanzier #richie tozier #mike hanlon #stan uris #stanley uris #beverly marsh #bill denbrough #eddie kaspbrak #ben hanscom #my fic #tell me if you caught the reference

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readyreddie · 7 years ago

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Coming Out

It is now officially National Coming Out Day. I just want all my followers to know I love and support you all through all your trough tough times and all your good times as well. If you plan on coming out today good luck! If not, don’t worry about it. Go at your own pace. In the mean time have 4 chapters of how I think 5 of the Losers would come out. Starting with Bev and Richie! (I am still trying to get back into the swing of writing after a year or two off so please give me any feedback you have)

also @bxxpbxxprichie asked to be tagged so here ya go. If anyone else asked I might’ve missed it so just shoot me a message telling me to tag you in the future chapters. and this is going on my ao3, here

At 14 years old Richie Tozier had lived a… fairly complicated life. Killing a psycho demon clown, getting bullied relentlessly, having parents who don’t give a rat’s ass about him, and lacking a pure common-sense filter for his mouth were all things that had assured him a strange upbringing. He was sure that he really could do without any more drama coming into his life for at least the next 7 years; however, his body and mind had decided to give him one last fuck you before he could settle down. His huge fucking crush on his best friend, Eddie Kaspbrak, and just all-around attraction to other boys.

Now, Richie still thought girls were plenty hot. He had no trouble picturing himself making out with a girl like Molly Ringwald, but he also could just as easily occupy his mind with thoughts of Rob Lowe’s lips on him. Even more so than Robe Lowe, Richie could picture himself holding hands, and cuddling with Eddie.

The thought of keeping his opinions on both boys and girls a secret did not appeal to Richie at all, so he decided he needed to tell someone. Eddie was immediately out due to the fact that he was the boy Richie was crushing on, and Richie didn’t feel too comfortably telling any of the guy losers right now. He trusted them all but for some reason it just didn’t seem right to him. He decided to tell Bev first and the others all at once with Bev’s help.

On October 11th 1990, Richie Tozier had somehow found himself standing in front of Bev Marsh’s house, he had no idea how he got here or what he was going to say now that he was here, but he rang the doorbell anyway. Ding dong, ding dong, it rang twice and not 5 second after the second dong did Bev open the door. As Molly Ringwald stood there staring at Richie Tozier expecting him to say the first word like he always does, Richie just let it slip.

“I LIKE BOYS!”

Beverly Marsh knew the different rumors that had seemed to follow her around for what seems like her whole life. Slut, bitch, and piece of shit were just some of the colorful insults girls and guys alike had taken to calling her. None of those ever quite hurt her as much as the word dyke. Every time someone called her…that word, it seemed to leave an extra terrible feeling in her body. Beverly did not think it was because she was gay. She knew she had feelings for at least two boys, but she also knew that she had no problem seeing herself falling in love with a woman one day.

Beverly never thought much of it. She didn’t really flaunt it, nor did she see the need to tell anyone unless she was explicitly asked by someone she trusted. The red headed girl kind of just wanted to make it through high school by blending in with the crowd, and coming out to people would make that very difficult. Bev had thought she could keep to that plan, telling loud mouthed Richie Tozier did not seem like a great way to keep her secret. Yet, here Richie was, telling her something of equal value, and trusting her with one of his biggest secrets. How could she not trust him in the same way? Trust is a two-way street after all.

“That’s cool Rich, I also like boys.” She grinned at him, he was still wide eyed after blurting out something he clearly had not meant to say. “Girls are pretty hot too.” Her grin turned into a wide smile, as her cheeks flushed as she finally said the words aloud.

“Haha, I think so too Molly.” After that brief exchange at her door way she invited Richie inside to hang out. They talked normal stuff for a while before getting back to the topic they had started with.

“Richie, have you told anyone else yet?” Bev stroked his arm to grab his attention and reassure him that everything was okay.

“Not a soul, madam” The British voice was coming out which meant Richie was nervous as hell. Beverly thought of her next words carefully, Richie acted tough but when dealing with him you had tread very carefully otherwise he would shut down. She knew that it would drive him insane to have to keep a secret from any of the Losers, and that even if he could do it for a while he would eventually get torn apart deciding how to tell them.

“Well…do you wanna go tell them together?” She saw his face go on a whole road trip. His emotions clearly showing at each road sign: surprise, to confusion, to worry, and finally landing at resolve.

“Well that just sounds like the swellest idear, mah—”

“Beep beep Richie. No voices for this answer”

“Yea that sound’s nice, I think the sooner the better will be good for me. I will call them and get everyone together sometime this week. Are you sure you are okay with this?” Richie’s face seemed to express actual concern, an emotion Beverly had only seen him wear openly two other times. Both included when Eddie was hurt.

“Yea, I don’t mind telling you guys. It is the other towns people that scare the shit out of me.”

Two days after that conversation Eddie, Bill, Stan, Mike and Ben all sat in a circle at the quarry. Eddie and Stan had been there for about 10 minutes before the other 3 had shown up together. They had been growing impatient at the tardiness of the group, specifically Richie who had called this meeting of the 7.

“Where the hell is he?!?” Eddie yelled at no one in particular, and a silence began to fill what had already been quiet conversation between the small group.

Mike responded once it seemed like no one else was going to. “No idea, Eddie. But, you know how he is, he will probably be here soon.” About 5 minutes later just when everyone was sure Eddie was about to lose his shit they saw a Trashmouth barreling down towards them at a pace that would give a cheetah good competition. His long lanky legs propelling him forward faster than any of the Losers had seen him run before. Beverly could be seen in the distance casually sauntering behind the hyperactive loser.

“GUESS WHAT GUYS!!!!!!” Everyone heard Richie yell. He reached the little clearing the Losers were sitting in and stood trying to catch his breath. A little winded from his sprint down to the area.

“What, Richie?” Eddie snapped at him, “I don’t suppose you are gonna apologize for being late.”

“Oh, no. Nothing like that my dear Eds.”

“Don’t call me th—” and before Eddie could finish telling Richie off he yelled something that only one of the seven losers were expecting.

“I LIKE GUYS!!!” He yelled beaming like he hadn’t just said something as surprising as revealing his sexuality.

“W-w-wait, w-wa-what?” Bill asked, stutter worse than usual showing that he was just as taken back as the other 5 who had just been sitting in the quiet, the only noise just 30 seconds earlier being Eddie’s seething anger.

“I like guys. Like, I like the idea of my tongue down Eddie’s Spaghetti’s cute little mouth.” He pinched Eddie’s cheek.

“Fuck off Trashmotuh!” Eddie pushed him off but Stan and Ben could’ve sworn they saw him blush. “And when did you figure this out about yourself.”

“Hmm, I think it was right around the time your mom, Ms. K, brought a second man into our sacred bed. At first I was surprised bu—”

“Beep beep, Richie.” Bev cut him off once she decided he was no longer being productive.

“Oh right! Our very own Molly Ringwald has something to add.” Richie bowed and gestured over to Beverly who was standing right between Bill and Ben.

“Did you know?” Stan asked the girl, just out of curiosity since they seemed to have come to the quarry together.

“Yeah, he told me two days ago. But that isn’t what he meant. He called everyone so that we both could come out. TOGETHER.” She glared at Richie who looked away whistling. “He just yelled it before I could get down here. But, yeah, I like girls and boys. Richie still likes girls by the way. I would let him tell you himself but I don’t think he is gonna be very focused right now.”

“Well that’s cool g-g-guys, you know we don’t care.” Bill said first, as the honorary leader of the group everyone had kind of looked to him to respond to big news first.

“Yea, what Bill said. I am just glad you guys trusted us to tell us.” Mike smiled as he pulled them both into a hug, which all the losers quickly followed him into.

#reddie #national coming out day #losers club #it 2017 #richie tozier #beverly marsh #Eddie Kaspbrak #bill denbrough #stanley uris #mike hanlon #ben hanscom

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dirt-goth · 7 years ago

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answer all the numbers

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stargleeksil-blog · 7 years ago

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Criminal Minds S06E18 “Lauren” review - or more aptly named, FUCK!

Episode 18 – Lauren

Hey ... I know, that was a very tepid ‘hey’ and I think you guys know why. Holy fuck, I hope this isn’t going where I think this is going, but as always, trying to be hopeful.

Also, this episode was directed by Matthew Gray Gubler ... so I don’t know what to expect anymore.

Let’s see what happens.

Flashback. Wait. Is this when ...

“Jack told me you were provisional IRA.”

“Except … Ian … That’s a protestant name, isn’t it?”

“Not a lot of protestants in the IRA. Or is that how you proved you were a good fighter, defending your mother for giving you that name?”

“Right now I’m trying to get into business with a former IRA captain. He’s gone freelance. You might have heard of him.”

“Valhalla.”

It’s when Lauren met Ian ...

Oh, she is so fucking hot.

Back to the present.

“I got four names on the bottom of the list Prentiss gave us. Luke Renault, Lawrence Riley, Lila Rafferty, Lyle Rogers.”

“All with the initials L.R.”

“The CIA uses cryptograms like that to assign to non-official cover agents working the same case.”

“So do other foreign countries.”

“These last four names are covers … spies.”

Considering the gravity of the situation, this shouldn’t be turning me on so much. but Derek in an authoritative/teaching position always gets my juices flowing.

“Wait. No. This isn’t right.”

My genius goddess to the floor.

“Do you see this space? That shouldn’t be here.”

“Could it be a formatting error?”

“No, this is a spreadsheet template. Formatting doesn’t allow for this.”

“There’s a missing name here.”

“It’s another spy whose cover is L.R.”

“Lauren Reynolds is dead.”

FINALLY!

“Lauren Reynolds is dead.”

“What?”

“Lauren Reynolds is dead.”

“Prentiss said that on a phone call seventeen days ago. But her intonation wasn’t surprise or grief. It was like a mantra, like she was reminding herself.”

“Lauren Reynolds. L.R.”

“If Prentiss is the last name on the list, she’s on Doyle’s list, too.”

“That explains her behavior the past month. The secrets, the evasion.”

“She’s been biting her fingernails again, too.”

“Guys.”

Oh dear fuck.

“She left her badge and her gun? Why would she do that?”

Oh my innocent babies.

“That doesn’t make sense. Why run?”

“We’re her family. We can help.”

“Doyle’s killing families.”

“She’s not married, not close to relatives. He was read to wipe us out.”

“She ran to protect us.”

Oh my fucking god, please find her soon.

“Battery’s dead, Fahey.”

“She’s a trained spy. She doesn’t want to be found.”

“She knows all of our tricks. We don’t know any of hers.”

“All right, then how do we find her?”

“Here’s how.”

“Ian Doyle’s our unsub, Prentiss is our victim. We profile their behavior and we treat it like any other case.”

“Because terrorism isn’t an area we specialize in, I’ve reached out to an expert from the State Department, someone who can also shed light on Prentiss’s past.”

“Who?”

“Her.”

“Let’s get to work.”

YES!

“How many men does Doyle have, Jack?”

“Any surprises?”

She already knows he’s there.

“I already do.”

“What are you gonna do, tell him?”

Did Prentiss just fucking shoot Jack? HOLY SHIT!

Elizabeth Bear: “The secret to getting away with lying is believing with all your heart. That goes for lying to yourself even more so than lying to another.”

“Okay, so I talked to a friend from Langley. He couldn’t give me Emily’s full CIA history, but he could give me this.”

“She assumed the identity of Lauren Reynolds as part of a special task force called JTF-12.”

“I heard about them. They were profiling terrorists, weren’t they?”

“Yeah, assembled after 9/11.”

“CIA and western agencies contributed their best and brightest.”

“But serial killers and terrorists have different personality traits. How does Doyle fit in?”

“He was their last case.”

“And now the JTF is on his hit list.”

“Jeremy Wolff was victim number one, from Germany’s BND. Sean McAlister at Interpol was the second. He was the one that brought the JTF in to work on the Doyle case. He was murdered last week in Brussels with his wife and daughter.”

“Tsia Mosely of France’s DCRI. She got engaged to Jeremy earlier this year. After he died, she fled to DC.”

“And team leader, Clyde Easter, British SIS. He hasn’t checked in since Tsia’s murder. He was also in DC.”

“Did JTF make the arrests?”

“No, the host countries handled that. The team moved on to the next case.”

“If all they did was deliver the profile, how does Doyle even know about them?”

“Well, considering the shadowy nature of terrorist cells, they utilize a skill we don’t … infiltration.”

“Who was undercover on Doyle?”

“Emily. She made contact with him in Boston to get intel on Valhalla. She was posing as another weapons dealer.”

“Look at how she’s dressed. She seems awfully comfortable.”

My hurt puppy.

“How close did she get to Doyle as part of her cover?”

“The recon they did on Doyle included a background of all of his romantic relationships.”

“Emily was his type.”

“She asked you to stop here yesterday?”

“Yeah.”

“Change her boots and … get whatever she needed, I guess.”

“It’s never easy, you know, having to dig through ha friend’s life.”

“But that’s not what’s bugging you, is it?”

“You’re angry because she crossed the line with Doyle.”

“No, I’m not.”

“I’m angry because a group of mercenaries just shot at me. I don’t much like being shot at, Rossi.”

“Prentiss knew exactly what was going on, but she didn’t bother to tell any of us.”

“She couldn’t without putting us at risk.”

“Come on, man, we don’t know that. All we do know is that she slept with a terrorist for a profile.”

“And instead of coming clean with us about her dirty laundry, she just ran with it.”

“You think it’s that simple?”

“Till there’s a reason not to be.”

“Well … here’s one.”

“That’s her passport, the real one. Now, if you wanted to vanish, wouldn’t you take that with you?”

“That doesn’t mean anything.”

“I worked with that woman for five years. I put my life in her hands. I called her my friend.”

“But right now I can’t even say that I ever really knew her. Can you?”

“There’s something down here.”

In the toilet? Ew.

“What do you got?”

“It’s called a Gimmel ring. The husband and wife-to-be wear individual bands during the engagement and at the wedding.”

“You see the markings in the middle? Gaelic. Doyle gave it to her.”

“The ring is more than just a souvenir. Otherwise, why hang on to it all this time?”

“Why hide it from us?”

“What makes you think she went to Boston?”

“Well, the Doyle case started in Boston. Maybe she’s going back to old locations trying to hunt him down.”

“If he had us in his crosshairs, she wouldn’t run. She’d take the fight to him.”

Hot Prentiss doing surveillance.

And shoot, now I’m gay.

“You always ride in the second car, why?”

Cuz the first car is always the one to get hit. God, that Ian is scaring me.

“Are you going to … take care of me?”

“Good.”

“I just … assume you’ll tell me when you’re ready to tell me.”

“It’s … it’s beautiful.”

I’m going to barf up my tea.

“Sir, Tsia got a hit on one of Clyde Easter’s cover. He’s on a plane to Boston as we speak.”

“Have him detained as soon as he steps off. We need to go. “Garcia, you’re coming with us.”

“Okay, yes.”

“Step back, sir. You’re being detained as a suspect in a murder investigation.”

Well, that’s gotta suck.

“Hey, it’s me. Hotch asked me to try all your numbers, and I have this as an old listing, and you probably don’t even use it anymore, but if it is you and you’re out there, come home, please.”

“God, Emily, what did you think, that we would just let you walk out of our lives? I am so furious with you right now!”

“Then I think about how scared you must be, how you’re in some dark place all alone.”

“But you’re not alone, okay? You are not alone. We are in that dark place with you. We are waving flashlights and calling your name.”

“So if you can see us, come home. If you can’t, then …”

“Then you stay alive. ‘Cause we’re coming.”

My fucking heart. I’m going to take it out of my chest and put it on hiatus.

“I only want Doyle.”

God, she’s fierce.

“Where’s Doyle?”

HE FUCKING SHOT HER!

“Emily walked into a trap.”

“It looks like Doyle got into the SUV, but from this angle, you can see that he didn’t. Which I wish the Boston PD would have told me before I started watching it.”

“Sorry again for the screaming.”

Oh my innocent honey.

“She threw a flash-bang grenade into a car.”

“She’s lucky the three people inside didn’t die.”

“Is anybody else bothered by that?”

“Well, three bad guys.”

“Illegal as it is, I think Prentiss knows she has to be as ruthless as Doyle.”

“He’s come to the US to wage a public vendetta and hired a group of mercenaries to remain loyal to him. He has nothing to lose, so she has to act the same way.”

“So how did Doyle know she was waiting for him?”

“Well, the mole must have told him, right? The same guy who’s been feeding Doyle the contractors and agents?”

“And our best suspect was just arrested with a suitcase full of cash.”

“How do we get Easter to talk? He won’t cooperate willingly.”

“I’ll handle that. The rest of you focus on Doyle’s location.”

“I hate to be the one to ask this, but how long does Emily have?”

“Her best chance is also the most troubling. Doyle saved her for last because he views her as his stressor. Which means he’ll take his time.”

I’m seriously worried right now. I am not liking this at all.

He’ s seriously asking her about the ring? It’s that important to him?

“I flushed it.”

She has tattoos?

“Yep.”

“And that’s enough ink, thanks.”

Oh my fucking god, he’s going to sear it into her flesh. STOP IT!

“Who’s that?”

“Jack Fahey, Irish mob. He called Easter’s call phone twelve times in six hours.”

“Any connection to Doyle?”

“Boston PD says he’s low level.”

“But the Irish mob has long-standing ties to the IRA, see if you can get anything out of him.”

So basically their only connection and possible lead is a fucking moron loser. Nice.

“Why are you doing this? Why are you keeping me alive?”

“I know what you want.”

“You want Lauren Reynolds back.”

“I can do that. I can be her.”

“I have no illusions. But I’m tired of this. Of being afraid.”

“October 2006, ‘In closing, I have never worked with a finer agent that Emily Prentiss. Her skill at analyzing and predicting terrorist behavior is unparalleled.’ Signed, name redacted.”

“You used all the right buzzwords, told us everything we wanted to hear.”

“You sold her to us the same way you sold Doyle to the North Koreans.”

“It takes a skilled sociopath to betray his team and the cause he held dear for self-preservation. If you cooperate with us and we save Agent Prentiss, then maybe we could talk about a deal.”

“But if anything happened to her, I will destroy you. You can count on that.”

“We’ll get Doyle with or without you. Pack lightly. Guantanamo gets humid.”

“You’re not the sociopath. Doyle is.”

“I thought you were a better profiler.”

Ooh, burn.

“Why were you calling Clyde Easter so much, Jack?”

“What do you think?”

“Narcissism masking deep-seated insecurity.”

“So if we puncture his self-image, this hood rat will talk.”

“Well, you look like one.”

“You smell like one.”

“You smell that?”

“Hood rat.”

“Hey, Jack. Do you know what a hood rat is?”

Nope.

“See what I mean? He’s just gonna have to learn the hard way.”

“What happened to it?”

Prentiss happened to it.

Oh shit!

“Where’s Prentiss?”

“Lauren Reynolds. Where is Lauren Reynolds?”

“You tell us where she is right now, or I swear, I’ll send you to a prison where they’ll teach you what a hood rat is.”

Son of a bitch, I’m terrified of Rossi right now.

“200,000?”

“What other leverage do we have?”

“Is he an addict?”

“He’s having a nicotine fit.”

“We wouldn’t let him smoke.”

“We could use that. He’d relax, open his big mouth.”

“Is that enough?”

”Well, I’m pretty good with narcissists. Dated a few.”

“I’m looking to get into business with a former IRA captain who’s gone freelance. Valhalla.”

“I just wanted …”

Someone get Doyle already. Damn.

I love Rossi’s defensive side

“Mind your manners.”

“You’re already extorting us for Prentiss’s location.”

“So, just out of curiosity, what’s it like working for Doyle?”

“No! This was about you and me! That’s what you said! You and me!”

“Whatever you want to do to me, I accept, but leave them out of it.”

“Shoot Fahey. If he dies, my team doesn’t have anything.”

“Wow. I bet you’re his hookup, aren’t you? I mean, after all, you’re the man.”

Bad cop/sexy cop? Really?

Fuck. They took out Fahey.

“Down!”

FUCK!

“That’s not going to come out.”

“I know.”

“Ashley, we have a problem. Without Fahey, there’s not much left.”

“We all want to save Prentiss so bad that we can’t see this case straight.”

“We depend on the team member with the freshest eyes.”

“You haven’t worked with Prentiss for five years. You’re unprejudiced.”

“Now, what’s been bugging you since we left Quantico? How about the affair? That bugs me.”

“How does the two of them sleeping together change Doyle’s profile?”

“I don’t know.”

“Come on, Ashley. It’s textbook.”

“I haven’t read every textbook.”

“You want me to hold your hand?”

“Fine. What doesn’t fit?”

“Just say it!”

“What are you thinking?”

“Spit it out!”

“Why families?”

“Keep going.”

“Prentiss is Doyle’s stressor. He wants revenge on the woman who betrayed him, and I understand that. But why kill that child in DC?”

“There’s the agent I’m looking for.”

“Come on. Let’s get you a new shirt.”

One of the best scenes so far.

“So, assuming Clyde isn’t the mole, we looked through the JTF’s personal records again, and Jeremy made some fancy plans before his death.”

“Specifically, he bought a large estate in Spain …”

“He signed all the documents with one of his covers. Made a down payment in cash, deposited the rest.”

“So Jeremy sold the list to Doyle.”

“He was the first victim, killed quietly.”

“Doyle didn’t any attention until he was ready.”

“Did Tsia know?”

“I can’t tell.”

“If I were running from a terrorist, I would cash in my IRA. Not that one. The other … you know what I mean.”

“My point is, Tsia didn’t touch that money, so I don’t think she’s in on it.”

Lordy, I needed this scene. Both information and preciousness.

“Did you know that Jeremy sold the list to Doyle?”

“So when you got to DC, you couldn’t trust Tsia either. Prentiss read your doubt as duplicity and so did we.”

“Would you have told me?”

“Someone we both care about is in trouble. I need the original profile when Doyle was a terrorist. We combine that with who he is now as a serial killer.”

So they’re going to work together. About fucking time.

“Okay, so how does this fit in with who he is as a family annihilator?”

“And Prentiss’s role in it.”

“Annihilators have a romanticized view of who their family is.”

“Well, they think of their family as their possession, until some law shatters that and starts them killing.”

“Children?”

“You run your profile that he carried out his murders with surgical-like precision.”

“With no collateral damage.”

“Perhaps this child was a surrogate for one he had.”

“Say Doyle had a child and you didn’t know about it. Is it possible that Prentiss did?”

“Who else was in the compound the day that you arrested Doyle?”

“All Irish?”

“That’s a start.”

Oh dear fuck, that is so fucking cute!

“Four, five, six … Seven, eight, nine, ten. Ready or not, here I come!”

“Aww, I’m gonna get you!”

“I don’t see you. Ahh! I’m gonna get you!”

“Having kids?”

“Be a little hard with what we do, don’t you think?”

“I ... I thought he was your housekeeper’s.”

“I can’t do that. Not here.”

“Or … I could get you out.”

“I have resources. Contacts. He would be safer. And he’d have a father.”

“You want me to raise your son so he can have your life?”

“There are so many things I would do to make you happy. But … I can’t do this.”

So Emily gave Interpol photos of his dead son? WHAT THE FUCK?

“There’s something you don’t know about those photos.”

“I got him! Matched Irish immigration records based on Doyle’s employees.”

“Declan Jones, he’s the only boy who matches. He settled in Boston eight years ago, adoptive guardian Louise Jones.”

“Are they still alive?”

“Declan and his mother went missing seven years ago. Bodies never found.”

“Wait, what is this?”

“God, someone took pictures of them being shot.”

“Is there an address?”

“That looks like a warehouse.”

“It’s gotta be big enough to house a small army. That’s weapons, supplies.”

“Let’s see … which means, it has its own perimeter. I got it, 1518 Adams Street.”

“After your arrest, I relocated Louise and Declan. And then I got a call.”

“Interpol had sent back our profile. The Head of the Terrorism Division wanted more dirt on you so they could break you.”

“No. I wouldn’t let him be a pawn.”

“The things they would have done to get you to talk …”

“But I knew, even if I didn’t cooperate, they were going to find him eventually.”

“So I had to …”

“I had to end his suffering before it could begin.”

Did he just fucking slap her?

“Wait, wait, look at that.”

“Morgan, come look at this.”

“I put him in the profile after the pictures were taken.”

Okay ...

“It’s black clothing and a hand, Reid.”

“No, look at the fingernails.”

“Oh, my God!”

Oh shit!

“You don’t know when the pictures were taken. You don’t know that.”

“I’m the one holding the gun.”

“You want to hear his last words to me?”

“He said, ‘I looked pretty good for a dead kid, didn’t I?’”

“And then he got on the plane and I never saw him again.”

“Just because I held a gun to him doesn’t mean I shot him.”

“I only had to make you and the North Koreans believe he was dead.”

Hold up. She made it look like she killed Declan, but he’s actually alive? And they tortured Ian with it? OH MY FUCKING GOD! People are awful.

“Agent Prentiss is the only friend in the building. Rescuing her is our primary objective.”

“Our only advantage here is stealth. Once they know we’re on site, there’s nothing to stop them from killing her. So we keep it quiet until we get her.”

“I beat you, Ian.”

“Before you even got out of North Korean. I beat you.”

“’Cause I gave Declan his life back.”

“No, you won’t.”

“Ever since you told my people about Fahey, I’ve been stalling you.”

“Cut the power.”

FUCK!

“I got her!”

“I got her in the basement on the south side.”

“I need a medic.”

“Prentiss.”

“Hey, it’s me, I’m right here.”

“You’re gonna be all right.”

“Stay with me, baby.”

“Come on, stay with me.”

“Let me go.”

“No, no. I am not letting you go.”

“Help me!”

“Listen to me, I know why you did all of this. I know what you did for Declan. I’m so proud of you. Do you understand that?”

“I am proud of you because you are my friend, and you are my partner.”

“No, Emily!”

“Come on, stay with me.”

“If you can hear me, please just squeeze my hand.”

“Just keep squeezing.”

“No.”

The perfect word.

“She never made it off the table.”

“Spence.”

“I didn’t get a chance to say goodbye.”

“Come here.”

This is too much for me. I don’t have anything to say.

Why are they talking behind closed doors?

Fuck.

“Passports from three different countries, and a bank account in each one to keep you comfortable.”

“Thank you.”

“Good luck.”

You have GOT to be kidding me! And Hotch knows

Walter Langer: “People will believe a big lie sooner than a little one. And if you repeat it frequently enough, people will sooner or later believe it.”

So ... once again I’m speechless. I just .. I can’t come up with a witty ending for this. So I’ll leave this hear, with me emotions frazzled, and I’m seriously hoping that this will rectify itself soon.

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austinpanda · 5 years ago

Text

Dad Letter 120119

1 December, 2019

Dear Dad--

Happy Thanksgiving and welcome to December! I got a couple of gifts from you, and I want to thank you for them! It looks like one is a paracord bracelet (which I’m going to keep in my car in case of emergencies) and the other looks like a big scary knife! That’s a really good-looking knife! I am ready to be the heavy in a Steven Segall movie. Thank you thank you! I may keep the knife in my car too, just because I don’t have anything for self defense in the car, other than a viciously-thrown handful of sugar-free Werthers. Being here in Yankeeland, I’m supposed to have an emergency survival kit in my car, in case I go off the road and get stuck in snow. I believe it’s supposed to contain warm clothing, and a snow shovel, and food. (What I really need in that situation is a tow truck, so I’m going to have to be better about taking my phone with me wherever I go.

Job hunt! I have an interview tomorrow at a temp agency called Bangor Area Staffing Solutions (BASS!) where they will take my references, review the results of four assessment tests I will have taken by then, and hook me up with a job. I’ve taken the first two assessments, which were a typing test and a clerical skills test (math, grammar, punctuation). I have to take another assessment on my abilities with Microsoft Word, a word processor program, and a final assessment to gauge my abilities with Microsoft Excel, which means spreadsheets. I’ve worked with spreadsheets before, but never created one, or did anything really complicated in Excel, so I’m watching tutorials on YouTube. They not only have Excel tutorials, but they have tutorials specifically geared to help you through an Excel assessment as part of a job application, so I’m getting that knowledge packed into the ol’ brain in preparation.

I believe I’ve made a new friend! Found him on a website that specializes in, not to put too fine a point on it, fat gay guys, and their admirers. It’s a bit silly in concept, but it’s also how I met Zach. Now most of the guys who go on this website are trying to find love, or, more likely, trying to get laid. I am the rare exception to this rule. I’m one of the few who use the site because they just want to make a new friend, and specifically NOT do any fornicating. And I got lucky! I found a big friendly fellow named Josh, and he even lives in Old Town (and not Bangor) like me, so he’s quite close. I’ve been chatting with him online. I’ve learned a few things.

I thought I liked decorating for Christmas. Nope, I’m an amateur with no hopes of ever going pro. Josh is a pro. While I was chatting with him, he sent me a pic of his Christmas tree, which he had decorated. It was gorgeous. It had red and white lights on it, with blue accent lights nearby, just like the tree in my living room! Then he mentioned that he was decorating another tree. This made me stop and think, because how many single people have multiple Christmas trees, much less the stuff to decorate them? Turns out, Josh does! I asked him how many trees he had, and he wasn’t sure (!), but he thinks 7 to 10. He mentioned getting 15 totes full of Christmas shit at a yard sale once.

So that’s my new friend Josh’s big secret; He has a vicious Christmas addiction. It’s cunning and baffling and powerful, and the first step is admitting that he has a problem. I saw snowshoes in one of the photos, and mentioned that he owned snowshoes. He had to correct me; he doesn’t own snowshoes that he can use to walk in the snow, those are antique snowshoes he borrowed from a friend for purposes of a Christmas display near the entryway in his apartment. They’re decorative holiday snowshoes.

So now I’m fascinated by this guy. You don’t meet too many people in life who are so committed to Christmas. I don’t have many friends who are that committed to anything. And he’s allergic to beef, and nuts, so we’re going to cook his ass a lasagna with pork Italian sausage in it. I think he’s earned a lasagna for his holiday efforts.

So...exercise. Fucking exercise, bane of my existence. I figured I would get more outdoor time and more long walks once I moved north, and so far I’ve been right. It’s a lot more fun to go walking through an empty park covered with snow when it’s 30 degrees (for me) than it is to walk through a park full of hip, young, pretty people when it’s 100 degrees. Yesterday, before going on our walk, I checked my cell phone to see if it had a built-in fitness app that would track how far we walked, and lo, it did! Once I turned that shit on, my phone became a pedometer, and it turned out we ended up walking 1.46 miles. It was about 22 degrees. We really froze our nuts off, but it was a beautiful trail we were on (I’ll include a pic or two) and I slept better last night than I’ve slept since we moved here. Fucking exercise, hahaha! And my depression isn’t noticeable today...I hate when everybody except me gets how healthy exercise is, and then my own body proves them right. I shall have to walk again today.

I’ve discovered a new TV show I like, and it’s strange but fascinating: The Great British Bake-Off. Start with ten of the country’s best amateur bakers, have them compete against each other, eliminate the biggest loser, and repeat until they have an ultimate winner. The thing to enjoy about the show is just how British everything is. Everyone is super polite, and so eager to bake something perfect, and disasters happen, but because they’re British, they don’t hurl a coffee mug across the kitchen, they just get kind of quiet while they chastise themselves for their feeble effort. One baker was icing his cake, then turning it slightly, then icing some more, then turning it slightly. Only every time he turned it, he was also shoving it forward just a bit, which he didn’t notice. So he turned it one too many times and gently shoved his whole cake onto the floor. The judges (because, remember, it’s England) came over to help him pick up his cake and encourage him to finish the competition as best he could. I think if it were America, the judges would run up and start yelling at him, and make him do push-ups.

I’m going to get started on my test preparation and take my assessments now! Wish em luck. Thank you again for the paracord and the knife; I’m now much better prepared in case of robbers or grizzly bear. Much love to you both!!

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brxxklyyn · 8 years ago

Note

1-60! if u hav time

1: Do they drink coffee? nope

2: Are they left or right handed? right

3: How do they do their hair? Facial hair? (If they have it) ruffled n cutely to the side

4: What’s their favorite animal? cATS5: What is their relationship status? in a relationship with me, thank god6: What is their favorite band/singer?ed sheeran !! also v fond of the ollam 7: Are they more a cat or dog person? catcatcat8: What does their laugh sound like? vanilla n soft music n dimples all in one9: Do they know multiple languages? Which ones? english irish and spanish my trilingualbabe10: How old are they? How old are you? 18, 17 11: One word that describes them. masterpiece12: Do they have any pets? cute kitties and dogs plus i’m basically an extra pet13: What is their favorite TV show? brooklyn 99 and great british bake off aw bless14: What is their favorite movie? about time and WTWTA plus a couple others15: What car do they drive? none lol loser16: What ethnicity and/or nationality are they? Irish !!17: Where did you meet them? at a poetry event awkwardly but properly on our first date in a cafe18: What was your first meeting like? adorably awkward19: What is their zodiac sign? Are your signs compatible? sagittarius, very much so as far as i know (gemini)20: What month is their birthday? December 21: What is your favorite outfit on them? cute blue hollister tshirt and their cool yellow shoes and also a dinosaur onesie22: Are they good texters? yass23: Your favorite feature about their appearance. dimples n eyes n shoulders n hands n ears24: Your favorite thing about their personality. gentleness n humour25: Do they make you laugh? very much yes26: Do you make them laugh? to the point where they need their inhaler27: Are they good huggers/ kissers? heckin YES28: What is your favorite “flaw” that they have? they’re a little awkward like me n it’s so sweet 29: Are they nice to strangers? they’re nice to everyone tbh34: Ever dreamt about them? What happened in the dream? a good few times tbh including one where we were married and lived in a carpet store35: How tall are they? How tall are you? we’re both just over 5 foot neither of us are quite sure36: Do they have a booty? a cute booty37: What are their hobbies? watching vines and going on dates with ME also petting cats and being savage af38: What are their talents? acting, singing/music, arts n crafts, poetry, making french toast, burping and being lovely39: What would your dream date be with them? a day by the seaside or snuggled up on a couch with movies and chocolate40: Does anyone know about your crush/love? literally everyone they’re all i talk about41: What do you guys have in common? quite a lot including humour and loving each other lmao42: Do they go to the gym? they do44: What is their favorite color? yellow45: How far apart do you live from them? about an hours drive46: What songs remind you of them? the blowers daughter by damien rice, falling in love at a coffee shop by landon pigg, friday i’m in love by the cure, take me home by us the duo, green eyes by coldplay, tear in my heart by tøp, emmylou by vance joy, the piano duet in the corpse bride, the earth prelude by ludovico einaudi, toothpaste kisses by the maccabees, gooey by glass animals, into you by ariana grande, boats and birds by gregory and the hawk, eskimo kiss by years of rice and salt, open season by high highs, fireflies by owl city, sea of love by cat power, switzerland by soccer mommy, the moon song from Her, there’s a lot lmao47: Do they listen to a lot of music? yess48: What do they smell like? vanilla and home and warmth 49: If they were in a book (protagonist or antagonist or supporting character, up to you) how would the writer describe them? probably as shy n a little mysterious with a calm voice and gentle features50: How often do you see them? usually once a week51: The last text/ message they sent you? “i love you so much”52: The last thing they said to you in person? “i love you, stay safe”53: What is the most embarrassing thing that’s happened to you in front of them? i’m literally the clumsiest and most ridiculous person ever so i can’t even choose54: Do they have any tattoos or piercings? once tattoo and cute lobe piercings55: What color are their eyes? grEEN56: What is their clothing style? gay af with a side of slick57: What is one thing that makes them really special? they’re my best friend n care a lot about people58: Will you tell your crush your feelings? lmao they know pretty well i’m a smitten dork59: How long did you know them before you started falling for them? maybe a day into talking was around when i was like “ oh shit love me”60: Was there a defining moment when you knew you liked/loved them? we were lying in bed at 7am just cuddling peacefully and time just slowed down it was beautiful

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