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teenwolfmarvel-obsessor · 1 year

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Summary: Eddie Munson is different from other people you've interacted with. Sure, you've dated your share of weird guys, but Eddie was different. He had his own way of showing affection, whether it be teasing or subtle actions. Changing for someone you're in a relationship with isn't usually something you should do. After you graduated and he continued on with high school, you noticed that you were slowly changing for a certain someone.

A/N: Okay, I know that this is very, very, very late. I always run into writer's block, especially when I'm trying to base a story on a song. Hope you all enjoy it!

Notes:

Y/N/N: Your Nick Name

Robin -> Your Younger Sister

Warnings:

Language

Angsty

Eddie Munson x-reader

Good girl, sad boy, big city, wrong choices We had one thing going on I swear that it was something ’cause I don’t remember who I was Before you painted all my nights a color I’ve searched for since

Goosebumps appeared on my skin as the wind hit me. I tightened the jacket around me. Eddie came outside with a bottle of water and a beer for himself. I thanked him, grabbing my drink. He sat down and leaned back.

His hands propped him up. The two of us stared at the sky, the sun slowly being replaced by the moon. I noticed Eddie turn to look at me. Eddie took a sip of his drink and set the can beside him. I sat up, resting up against the tree behind us. I could see the stars begin to form just as the moon rose. I always found the night sky to be rather comforting. When I was younger, my mom and I would sit outside to watch the sky.

Her favorite part was to journal the different colors and draw the stars. She'd quote some random author before saying it wasn't her who said it. "Hey, could you help me with the campaign tomorrow?" Eddie asked, "Dustin's been on my ass about some new ideas."

Even though I didn't understand half of it, Eddie still wanted me to help him with his DND events. He always tried to help me understand. I nodded with my eyes remaining on the sky. "What?" he said. He sat up and looked at me. I turned to look at him with furrowed brows, asking with my expressions.

But one thing after another Fuckin' situations, circumstances Miscommunications, and I Have to say, by the way I just may like some explanations

"Do you not want to help me with the campaign?" he said. Eddie sat up with the can beside him. He bent his legs, his arms resting on his knees. "Eddie, I feel like you would get things done quicker," I paused, "if I wasn't there with you."

My boyfriend sighed, sitting up straight. He took his arms off his knees and played with his rings. "I thought you liked helping me with DND stuff?" he said. "I do, and it's really fun. It's just not something I like to do," I replied. "Have you always felt like this?" he asked, "how many other things have you said yes to?"

I opened my mouth to speak, but he interrupted me. "Why are you just now telling me this?" he asked. "Because I-I didn't want to say anything," I replied.

"You didn't want to say anything? So, you thought lying to me was a good idea rather than just telling the truth."

"You like it so much. I-I didn't want to, I don't know, ruin your spirit," I said. "Ruin my spirit?" he questioned, "Wow, great choice of words, babe." He stood up from the grass and grabbed the grocery bag of snacks. "Eddie," I followed after him.

"You've got a shift at Family Video in the morning. I'm going to head home. I don't want to keep you up late," he said, "Jeff is always asking to help anyways. Maybe he'll enjoy it more than you." I watched him throw the grocery bag in the back of his car and unlock the driver's side. "I'll see you after work," he said, "Tell Sir Harrington I said hello." He looked at me one more time before driving away.

Can I ask you a question? Did you ever have someone kiss you in a crowded room And every single one of your friends was makin' fun of you But fifteen seconds later, thеy were clappin' too? Then what did you do?

_______

(The Next Day)

"And he drove away just like that?" Robin asked, handing me one of the movies. I nodded and set it on the shelf. The two of us walked over to the other column. My sister set the basket on the cart between us. She grabbed the first case, putting it on one spot on the metal shelf. "What were you two arguing about?" she questioned.

"He asked if I could help with his campaign, and I said that it wasn't my favorite thing," I answered, "Eddie questioned if I've said yes to other things he likes to do." Robin's brows raised. She motioned for me to continue before pulling the cart behind us. "Then he got mad and left," I finished.

Did you leave her house in the middle of the night? Did you wish you'd put up more of a fight? When she said it was too much? Do you wish you could still touch ...her? It's just a question

She mouthed a response and walked over to the counter. She pushed open the gate, letting me through. "I feel like it's my fault. Maybe I'm just overreacting," I commented. My younger sister handed me a crate of movies. I typed in the returned movies, clicking the check mark to the side.

Steve leaned against the counter with crossed arms. Robin stood beside me, helping me log in the movies. "I don't think you're overreacting," Steve said. "I'm not?" I broke my attention away from the computer's keyboard. The bell above the store's door rang. A girl around our age walked into the store wearing a Hell Fire Club t-shirt.

"Hi, I'd like to return these movies," she said, carrying a cardboard box. I nodded and took the box from her. "Okay, all I need is your receipt and the card you paid with, and then you're ready to go," I explained. She smiled and pulled out her purse, looking for the receipt and her card. After a few seconds, she found them.

The girl set it on the counter. Robin went back to another aisle to re-organize a shelf after some kids messed it up. "I like your shirt," I complimented. She looked down at her shirt and smiled. I finished logging in the second movie. "Thanks. Mine was in the wash, so a guy in our club let me borrow it," she said.

Steve appeared by my side. He took the box after the movies were completed. "My boyfriend's the leader. Eddie Munson," I said. She broke out into a big smile. "Oh, you're Eddie's girlfriend?" the brunette said, "He's a great campaign leader. Do you play?"

Half-moon eyes, bad surprise Did you realize, out of time She was on your mind With some meathead guy that you saw that night, but you were on something

I shook my head in response. The girl's smile faded. "Oh," she said, "Well, I'm going to look around. Thanks..." She paused and glanced down at the name tag attached to my green vest. "Y/N," the customer smiled. She fixed her jean jacket and walked to the other side of the store.

"She's a joy," Steve muttered. I chuckled and set the box underneath the register. Robin came back with a sigh. "I swear, if I have to redo a whole damn aisle, I am going to blow this place to bits," she said, pushing open the gate with her foot. We went back to our conversation.

"I just feel really bad. I mean, as his girlfriend, shouldn't I feel obligated to help him out?" I spoke, "I just-I've noticed that I've changed."

Robin took a sip of her water. She exchanged a glance with our friend before looking at me. "Isn't that a good thing?" Robin asked. I explained how I've been changing for Eddie. "Every time I'm with him, I feel like I need to be a totally different person. I mean, you saw me snap at Dad the other night," I glanced at my sister.

She nodded and motioned for me to continue speaking. "That's not me, and it's never been like that," I added, "I don't like it." I kept my voice low, making sure the Hell Fire club member didn't hear our conversation. I'd hate for her to tell Eddie without my knowledge. Steve asked if I have told Eddie, but I respond with a 'no'.

I was planning on telling him last night, but when he asked me about the campaign planning, my plan kinda went sideways. I sighed and rubbed my eyes. "I don't know what to do. I don't want to break up with him, but I feel like I need to," I said. Steve walked over to me when the customer was making her way over to the counter.

"Y/N/N, you shouldn't be changing for someone you're in a relationship with. It's not healthy for you, or him," Steve said.

It was one drink after another Caught in politics and gender-roles And you're not sure, and I don't know Got swept away in the gray I just may like to have a conversation

_______

(Later that day)

Robin sat on my bed, flipping through a magazine. She grabbed a pair of scissors to cut out a picture. She walked over to my corkboard and pinned the picture. "Do you think it's weird what the girl said earlier today?" I looked up from my notebook. "I mean," Robin sighed, "It is a little weird how she reacted to you not playing DND."

"That doesn't help my nerves," I said. Robin let out a sigh and set the magazine on my side table. She sat up from the bed. "Sorry," she apologized. I closed my notebook and then dropped it into the big pocket of my backpack. "What're you going to do?" Robin questioned.

I shrugged my shoulders, turning to her. During and after work, I had a few hours to think about what to do. It took me a bit to think about myself and really understand what I needed. "I'm going to break up with him," I sighed, taking a minute to think. Robin nodded and stood up from the bed.

She walked over to my desk and leaned against the edge. She stared at my bedroom carpet before speaking. "I think that's a good choice," Robin said. Robin saw my expression and went to finish her statement. "Y/N/N, I know you more than you think, and from watching you date Eddie," she paused, "I can tell that if this relationship continues, you're going to tire yourself out for not being the person you've always been."

Can I ask you a question? Did you ever have someone kiss you in a crowded room And every single one of your friends was making fun of you But 15 seconds later, they were clapping too? Then what did you

Robin put an arm around my shoulders to bring me in for a hug. She squeezed me tightly before letting me go. She watched me grab my purse and head over to the front door. My sister followed me. "Good luck," she said. I thanked her and walked over to my car, parked in the garage.

_______

(A Few Minutes Later)

I noticed a black car sitting in the grass that neither Eddie nor his uncle drove. I gathered up the courage and walked over to the door. Sounds of people talking could be heard when I knocked. "Hold on a second, guys," Eddie spoke mid-laughter.

He opened the door with his smile slowly going away. "Y/N," he said. "Hey," I replied, holding onto the strap of my pocketbook. Eddie looked behind him at the group and then at me. "Can we talk?" I offered. He told everyone that he'd be back. Eddie closed the door behind him.

Eddie and I walked to the middle of the neighborhood, where the picnic table was. "What's up?" he smiled, sitting on the edge of the table. I fiddled with the hem of my jacket. "Y/N/N, what's wrong?" Eddie questioned. I swiftly wiped a tear and looked to the side to prevent me from making eye contact with him.

"I think we should break up," I said.

Does it feel like everything's just second-best after that meteor strike? And what's that, that I heard, that you're still with her That's nice. I'm sure that's what's suitable and right, but tonight...

He was taken aback by my answer. Eddie sat up in his position, resting his arms on his knees. "What?" he replied. He sat down on the seat rather than the table. I put my purse on the table and faced him. I repeated my sentence, with him stating he heard me the first time. "Why?" he asked. "Because I've changed," I answered.

Eddie's brows furrowed. He scoffed and looked at his house. "You've changed? How the hell is that a bad thing?" he said. "Because I'm not the same person I was," I claimed. "Okay, that's a good thing. It's a good thing to change," Eddie stood up from the bench. His hands rested on his hips as he tried to digest what I was saying.

"It's not when you look in the mirror and see a totally different person," I said. He sighed and began to pace back and forth. I watched him with my eyes as he changed spots every once in and awhile. "Eddie, we're the exact opposite. And even though I try to impress you or-or like the same things you do, I don't like what I see."

"So, you're saying this relationship was a mistake?" he pointed at himself, then to me. I shook my head no. "Y/N, it sounds like you are," he laughed slightly. "No," I stood up from the table, "It's not. I don't know who I am anymore. I was talking to Steve, and...." Eddie's head turned to me, his face contorted with annoyance.

"Oh, great, you were talking to Steve," Eddie rolled his eyes, throwing his arms up in the air. I hoped that nobody would come out at the sound of our argument. "Eddie, he and I work together. And my sister is best friends with him. Of course, I'm going to be talking to Steve," I waited a second before adding, "Steve said I shouldn't be changing myself for someone."

Can I ask you a question? Did you ever have someone kiss you in a crowded room, and every single one of your friends was making fun of you, but fifteen seconds later, they were clapping too? Then what did you do?

He rolled his eyes again and sat back down. He refused to look at me directly. "So, Steve knows all about our relationship," Eddie remarked, "I knew this was going to happen right after you graduated, and don't say that we could've graduated together. I am very aware of my academic state right now. Also, are you and him, like, buddy-buddy now?"

"We're co-workers. Steve and I are just friends. Just like Nancy and I are friends," I said, "And why is that the only thing you're grasping right now?"

"Because that's the only thing about this argument that makes sense," he said, putting his hands back on his hips. "We're not arguing," I said. "Really? Because I'm pretty sure you were the one that started it all," he tilted his head as he spoke. "All I said was I thought we should break up, and then you continued it," I countered. "Of course, I'm going to continue it. You said you wanted to break up," Eddie said.

I huffed in annoyance and stood up from the bench, grabbing my purse. I began walking over to my car. "What're you doing?" Eddie asked. "Leaving because you clearly don't understand what I'm saying," I said. Eddie grasped my wrist, preventing me from leaving him. He turned me around.

"Oh, I understand perfectly. You think that this relationship wasn't a good idea," he held up a hand to stop me, "You think that you've changed, whether that be negatively or whatever shit you think. You think that it's better for us to split because we're not who we were at the beginning. And I can't say I disagree."

I looked up at him. "You don't think I've noticed?" Eddie said, "Your hair's different. You're not wearing the same clothes you were before, and despite me trying to tell you to dump the thought of college, you've still held onto that."

He sighed heavily and backed up. Eddie ran a hand through his hair and returned his hands back to his hips. "So, we're breaking up then," I said. "We're breaking up," Eddie repeated. Someone yelled from the door of the house. I turned away from our conversation to see the girl from Family Video.

"I'll be right there, Peggy!" Eddie exclaimed. I looked at Peggy, to which she glared at me and walked back into the house. "Peggy seems nice," I said. "Yeah, she is," Eddie said. It grew quiet between the two of us. I went to open my mouth to speak but closed it when I thought it was best not to speak.

"I should probably get back to Peggy and the others," Eddie said. I nodded, staring at the grass. "I'll see you around, Y/N," he walked past me, patting me on the shoulder. I heard the door open and close, with Eddie hollering at his friends.

Did you leave her house in the middle of the night? Did you wish you put up more of a fight? When she said it was too much? Do you wish you could still touch ...her? It's just a question

Taglist: @b-ritney @midnightstar-90 @ramaalkayyali

#stranger things #stranger things season one #stranger things season two #stranger things season three #stranger things season four #Joseph Quinn #Joseph quinn x-readers #Joseph Quinn imagines #Joseph Quinn fluff #Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson x-reader #Eddie Munson imagines #Eddie Munson fluff #song inspired #Spotify

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harpsthings · 1 year

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rhapsody ch.2

[Full fic on ao3 here! Chapter one on tumblr here!]

Contrary to popular belief, Eddie knew when to shut up. It wasn’t hard to sense when someone wanted him to stop talking, their emotions quite literally broadcasting how much they wanted him to go away. Sometimes it took him a few interactions to piece together what each of their emotional signatures meant, but irritation was always one of the easiest to pinpoint.

It had cowed Eddie when he was younger, being able to physically feel how much someone disliked him. He was too talkative, too loud, too different for most people in Hawkins, Indiana to be able to tolerate. At first he had tried to conform and act like the other teens, but he kept slipping up. He would melt down in a room of overwhelming emotions or read a stranger so well he creeped them out. It had quickly earned him the “Freak” title despite everything he tried.

In the end, Eddie had embraced it. He wore his personality like armor and became the freak everyone told him he already was. He climbed on cafeteria tables, shouting louder than all the auras around him, and bit back when bullies bared their teeth. His hair grew long, tattoos appeared all over his skin, and he stopped hiding.

So, yes, Eddie knew when to shut up, but usually he didn’t want to.

Except currently he was driving his van to the Harrington house with Steve Harrington riding shotgun and he, quite frankly, didn’t know what to say. The broken piano of Steve’s aura was growing louder every minute they inched closer to their destination. Steve himself was staring out the window, hands clenching and unclenching rhythmically. If Eddie had to guess, he would say that home was the last place Steve wanted to be.

But what could Eddie do about it? He sighed, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel to the beat of Cirith Ungol’s “Toccata in D Minor” that was playing on low in the background. Eddie could out-talk the best of them, but sometimes he had a hard time figuring out anything of substance to say. But—

But maybe that was what Steve needed right now. Nothing of substance. A distraction.

“Gareth doesn’t think Cirith Ungol is ‘edgy enough’, but I think Gareth is a ‘fucking idiot’,” Eddie caught on to the first conversation thread he could think of, taking his right hand off the wheel to emphasize the quotation marks. “They’re fucking legends and this album is the best shit they’ve made so far. It’s, like, completely their own, not following any trends, which is what metal should be.”

“Uh,” Steve said, his head turned to Eddie and mournful music interrupted by a strum of confusion. “Who?”

“These guys, Steve, keep up!” Eddie gestured towards the radio. “They named themselves after a mountain pass Frodo and Samwise were lead through by Gollum in Lord of the Rings. I mean, the band pronounces it Cirith Ungol and it’s supposed to be pronounced Kirith, but I’ll forgive them. Cause you can totally see the influence Tolkien had on them in this album, and for that alone they deserve respect, am I right? I’m so right, fuck off Gareth.”

“Lord of the Rings?”

Luckily, they were at a stop light so Eddie could bodily turn to Steve. “Do you not know Lord of the Rings? Please tell me you know Lord of the Rings and your taste isn’t completely hopeless.”

“I know what it is,” Steve said defensively, shoulders and music raising. “It’s a book, right? Fantasy or something? The light’s green.”

Eddie sighed loudly, turning back around and putting his foot on the gas. “It’s a book series, Steve, a series, and a classic one at that. But I guess I should give you credit for even knowing that much about it. I bet Hagan probably thinks it’s some guy in Ireland with an extensive jewelry collection.”

Oh, shit, Eddie thought. That’s his friend. You just made fun of-

Steve snorted, mirthful chimes playing around him. “Yeah, probably. Tommy hated anything that might make people think he was into ‘nerdy shit’.”

Hated. Past tense.

Rumors came swirling back into Eddie’s mind. Harrington and Hagan fought. Harrington and Hagan aren’t talking anymore, what’s going on with that? Harrington drives off during lunch now, wonder where he goes. The murmurs had quickly died off once something more interesting had happened, and at the time Eddie had thought that meant they probably made up. Because the popular kids stayed together, right?

Even though he hadn’t seen them together since then. Even though Steve’s aura had become quiet and strange whenever Eddie passed him in the halls.

Fuck, Eddie was an idiot.

“Hated?” He murmured, “Past tense?”

“Yeah, uh—” Steve cleared his throat and that muted violin was back, but each stroke of the bow was harsher, more violent. “We had a falling out. Haven’t really talked since then.”

“That sucks, man. I’m sorry,” Eddie said, surprised how genuine the sentiment actually was. Despite how much of an asshole Hagan was, it was still awful being alone. Though, maybe being surrounded by people who you don’t really like and who don’t really like you was worse.

Steve shrugged but turned his body towards Eddie, leaning against the van window. “It’s better like this. He’s a douche and I’m… trying to stop being one.”

Eddie nodded. “I can get behind some self improvement, man.”

“Yeah… Don’t know how well I’m doing, though,” Steve gnawed on his thumb and Eddie fought the urge to pull it away from his mouth. “Considering no one has really noticed.”

Eddie flapped his hand dismissively. “The population of Hawkins wouldn’t notice the apocalypse if it happened in their backyard, don’t let it get to you.”

“They really wouldn’t,” Steve huffed. The broken piano rose and fell like a wave, mixing with the chimes of humor. Huh. Wasn’t that foreboding as hell. The sounds were quickly muffled by the soothing orchestra Steve used when he was hiding an emotion. “So… You were talking about Ciril Ungoth or something?”

Eddie took note of that swift topic change but let it slide. Even an empath could get behind people needing their privacy. He decided to let the excitement of being asked about one of his interests overtake him, bouncing in his seat, and began to talk.

As they drove through the dark Hawkins streets, Eddie was ecstatic to learn that Steve was actually a great listener, asking insightful questions and making little comments. It was nice to have, for a few minutes, the attention of Steve Harrington rather than the faux derision of King Steve. He doubted they would ever talk like this again, the world just didn’t work that way, but he was going to allow himself to relish in the moment.

The Harrington house came up before they knew it and Eddie watched as Steve tensed up like a wounded animal facing a predator, broken piano clanking loudly as a horror score began to play. Eddie blinked rapidly, the aura hitting him full force. It was almost too overwhelming to be able to think, but that didn’t stop him from realizing that Steve was terrified of his house.

Harrington’s parents are always out of town, so he can have parties whenever he wants! Isn’t that awesome? Isn’t that the best thing? I wish I was him.

So, was he scared of being alone in that big, empty house. Or worse… Were his parents home and he was scared of them? Eddie didn’t want to think about it, shouldn’t think about it, but he couldn’t stop the questions rushing through him as the music swelled.

What ever happened to people’s emotions not being his business? Why didn’t that apply to Steve Harrington?

Steve was gripping the door, but he hadn’t moved to open it. He was staring into the distance.

“You alright?” Eddie managed to ask, murmuring under the noise only he could hear.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.” Steve nodded jerkily. “It’s just—”

Steve’s mouth opened and closed, eyes flickering to Eddie, like he was trying to decide if the other teen was trustworthy or not.

“It’s just?” Eddie led encouragingly.

“I… don’t really want to be alone right now,” Steve lowered his head and looked away, a short diminuendo of shame twisting through the air.

“Okay,” Eddie said.

Don’t get involved.

“Okay,” he repeated.

Don’t get involved, not any more than you already have.

“My uncle works nights.”

Steve’s head jolted up towards him. “What?”

Do. Not. Get. Involved.

“Yeah, he works nights, which means the trailer’s all mine, so…”

Steve tilted his head. “So…?”

“You could come hang with me for the night… If you wanted.”

Goddamnit, Eddie Munson.

He could have slammed his face against the wheel. Why did he say that? His whole rule for himself was not to get involved with people, and he already broken that by even driving Steve home. He should just kick him to the curb. Besides, it wasn’t like Steve Harrington was ever going to say yes to spending more time with Eddie Munson.

“Okay.”

“What?” Eddie blinked up at Steve, who had taken his hand off the handle.

“Okay, I wanna hang,” Steve said, before he paused, stressed strings rising. “I mean— That is— If you meant it cause if you were just trying to be nice that’s okay I’ll just—”

“No!” Eddie interjected, louder than expected, shocking them both. He tried again, quieter this time. “No, I totally meant it, dude. We can go to my place if you want.”

“I want.”

“Okay, cool.” Eddie nodded. “Cool, cool, cool.”

“Cool.”

“Put your seatbelt on and we can go, then.”

“You’re not wearing a seatbelt,” Steve helpfully pointed out.

“It’s my van, I do what I want,” Eddie snarked. “And besides, if the cops pull me over and find a drunk Harrington in my van with no seatbelt they’ll throw me in the slammer, no questions asked.”

“Hopper wouldn’t do that.” It sounded like Steve was pouting, and when Eddie looked over… Yep, he was. What?

“Hopper totally would. That guys has it out to get me. But, how do you— You know what? Never mind. You’re putting your seatbelt on or I will.” Eddie leaned over Steve and grabbed the seatbelt, intent on buckling him in.

He had not anticipated that putting him nose to nose with Steve.

“Hi,” Steve said, harps thrumming.

“Hi,” Eddie replied, before forcing himself back and tugging the seatbelt over him, ignoring the weird flutter in his stomach.

Clicking the belt into the lock, Eddie sat back in his seat and cleared his throat. “Alright, let’s get this show on the road.”

“You sound like a sitcom dad,” Steve snorted as they pulled away from the Harrington house. As soon as they were in motion his aura calmed, trauma signature beginning to die down.

Eddie scoffed, secretly reveling in the lush string quartet that Steve was radiating. “Sitcom dad? Sitcom dad? I’ll have you know, Steven Michael Harrington—”

“That’s not my name.”

“Okay, Stephano Chrysanthemum Harr—”

“That’s not even close!”

“I will have you know, Steve, if that is your real name—” Eddie was grinning with delight at Steve’s laughter. He raised a finger high in the air. “That…!”

“That what?” Steve asked between chuckles.

“That I… may have forgotten what I was going to say.”

“Oh my god, Eddie.”

The rest of the ride to Eddie’s trailer went similarly, with Eddie making Steve laugh and secretly listening as his aura evened out and softened. It made something in Eddie’s chest curl up and purr at the thought that he was calming someone down rather than freaking them out, especially since that someone was Steve Harrington.

The nerves only began to creep up when they were pulling up to the trailer park. Talking with Steve almost made him forget that they were living in completely opposite worlds. Bringing him here, to Eddie’s world, had that reminder coming back with full force.

Steve is different, said the voice in Eddie’s head that liked to hate him. Steve isn’t like you. Steve is richer cooler kinder better and he’s going to remember that and leave you. Maybe even get a punch in before he goes.

Shut up, thought the rest of Eddie as he parked in front of his trailer. Shut up, shut up, Steve isn’t like that.

How do you know what Steve is like? You don’t know anything about him, not really.

Ignoring the temptation to slap himself, Eddie gestured to the trailer. “Here we are, la casa de Munson… or however you say it.”

“Don’t ask me,” Steve shrugged, unbuckling his seatbelt. “I’m failing Spanish.”

“God, same,” Eddie chuckled, reaching into the back and grabbing his lunch box. “I hate that fucking class.”

They both slid out of the van and Eddie led the way into the trailer. His nerves peaked as he opened the door and ushered Steve in, but the only thing Steve’s aura gave away was the thrumming of that familiar harp. Whatever that meant.

“You’ve got a lot of mugs, Munson,” Steve chirped as he wandered inside, looking around.

“Yeah,” Eddie chuckled fondly, shutting the door behind him. “Wayne likes them and they’re easy gifts so—”

He gestured at their Mug Wall. “Mugs!”

Steve laughed but a melancholy flute whistled through his aura. Thinking back to Steve’s empty house, Eddie could understand why.

“So,” Eddie clapped his hands together. “I was thinking I could make us grilled cheeses. You could use some sobering up and I’m starved. So, my solution: food!”

“You’re a real genius, Eddie,” Steve rolled his eyes, though a smile was playing at his lips. “I’m pretty much sober already, but yeah, I could eat.”

That’s how Eddie ended up in his tiny kitchenette, cooking up some grilled cheese and a can of tomato soup while he and Steve debated over whether a ham and grilled cheese should legally be food.

“I’m just saying,” Steve argued. “That ham and cheese sandwiches are meant to be cold, man!”

“That is such small minded thinking, Steve. I expected better from you!”

“Just because it’s edible doesn’t mean it’s right. I mean, you could technically eat grass—”

“Actually you shouldn’t, the silica in it’ll ruin your teeth—”

They were both quiet once the grilled cheeses were finally done (ham and cheese for Eddie, cheese with the singular tomato in the fridge for Steve), eating in companionable silence. It was nice, Eddie decided.

He had never really had anyone to simply exist with besides Wayne. Even with his friends he had to put on the act of Eddie “The Freak” Munson, but right now he felt like he could just… be Eddie.

Don’t get used to it, said the voice that hated him.

Shut the fuck up, Eddie replied, mentally giving the voice two middle fingers.

Once they were done, Steve thanked him for the meal and Eddie tossed the dishes into the sink. He grabbed two mugs of water (Garfield for Eddie and #1 Fisherman for Steve) and lead Steve into his room.

He was just setting the mugs down onto his desk when Steve said, “Oh, wow, is that a violin?”

Water sloshed out of Garfield as it clunked onto the desk, Eddie turning around in a rush.

Yep, there it was. In her case on the plush chair in the corner was Eddie’s biggest secret— his violin, Alfonsina. She was older than all his memories and more hidden than his porno mags. The only living person who knew about her was Wayne, and even then Eddie only played when he was alone.

Also, he was pretty sure that Alfonsina was worth more than the trailer. After his accident, Mel had told him that Alfonsina was a family heirloom that he had received from his grandmother, but her emotions had been so strange while she said it that he didn’t believe her. Even Wayne was squirrelly about Alfonsina, never really wanting to talk about her. Eddie didn’t push it, but that didn’t stop every cell in his body from wanting to know.

Eddie stepped in front of Alfonsina, blocking her from view. “Whaaaat? What are you talking about? There’s nothing there.”

Steve stepped around him. “It’s a violin. Right there. You have a violin.”

“Uh. Um,” Eddie moved between Alfonsina and Steve, waving a hand in front of Steve’s face. “This is not the violin you’re looking for, Steve Harrington.”

Steve huffed. “Can I please see the violin, Eddie?”

“What violin? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Bringing his clasped hands in front of his chin, Steve continued to beg. “Please? Please, please, please?”

Eddie, emotionally broken down from Steve’s attempted puppy dog eyes, sighed. “Why do you want to see it so bad?”

“Well, at first I just thought it was cool, but then you got all cagey about it so now I really wanna see,” Steve shrugged. “What, do you think having a violin will ruin your ‘metal’ reputation or something?”

“Violins are totally metal, jerkwad,” Eddie said, putting his hands on his hips. “Everything I do is metal. It’s just…”

“It’s just what?” Steve cocked his head.

“I dunno, man, personal?” Eddie crossed his arms over his chest, looking away. “It’s the last real memory I have of Mel.”

“Mel?”

“…My mom,” Eddie admitted. Steve was looking at him strangely and his music mellowed. “I only really knew her for, like, six months before she died, so…”

“Oh,” Steve murmured. “She died when you were six months old?”

Eddie rubbed the back of his head. “Nah, when I was fifteen. It’s a long story, but basically I got into an accident when I was fourteen and lost all of my memories. I know it sounds like some kind of cheesy novel, but I swear it’s true. I even have the scars to prove it.”

“No, no,” Steve shook his head. A solemn melody was playing. “I believe you it’s just… God, that really sucks man.”

“Yeah…”

“I’m— I’m really sorry I brought it up,” Steve shuffled his feet. “You don’t have to show me or anything, I’m sorry for imposing.”

Eddie looked at Steve and then back at Alfonsina.

He hadn’t played her in front of anyone in months. The last time was on the anniversary of Mel’s death. Every year he and Wayne would go to her grave and Eddie would play until either tears or blood spilled.

But then he remembered how ecstatic Mel was every time he had played for her in those short few months, singing along and dancing around him. He thought about how, one night when she was really sick, she had pleaded with him to find someone to share his music with. Eddie had cried when she had asked, telling her she was the only one he wanted to share with.

He had kept that one-sided promise, but…

She would be sad, wouldn’t she? If she knew Eddie never played for another soul?

Eddie was sure of the answer.

“Actually, I could play for you,” Eddie said, turning back to Steve. “If you want.”

“That— I mean, I’m not pressuring you, am I?” Steve was rubbing an arm with his hand, a nervous flute jumping. “Cause we can, like, totally forget about it.”

“No, man,” Eddie grinned reassuringly. “I haven’t played her in front of anyone in ages and I think it’s time to change that.”

Harps again.

Steve blinked rapidly before a matching smile spread across his face. “Okay, then. I’d love to listen as long as you wanna play. I haven’t heard someone play a violin in ages”

“Well, prepare to have your mind blown,” Eddie said with confidence he didn’t really have. “Now go sit.”

Steve obeyed, plopping down on the edge of Eddie’s bed and looking up at him with wide eyes. His attention was so rapt Eddie felt it like a physical presence. Even Steve’s aura was quiet, as if waiting for Eddie to join in.

Eddie blew out a breath, turning to get Alfonsina from her case. He took the moment to steal his nerves and convince himself not to run straight out of the trailer and into the woods.

He’s going to hate it, the Voice taunted. He’s going to hate you.

Bleh, bleh, bleh, Eddie retorted. Shut the fuck up, man.

Once he held Alfonsina and her bow in his grip, Eddie let out a fond sigh. It always felt right whenever he held her. And when they played together it was like magic was happening.

Drawing strength from Alfonsina, Eddie turned back around and presented her to Steve. “Say hello to Alfonsina, Steve!”

“Hello, Alfonsina,” Steve said with a wry grin. “I thought you hated Spanish, man. Isn’t that a Spanish name?”

Eddie chuckled, bringing Alfonsina up and getting into position. “I named her after Mel’s favorite song, “Alfonsina y el Mar”. It’s not my fault she was into Argentinian music and, like, super morbid stories.”

“Morbid stories?”

“Yeah, the song is about how the Argentinian poet Alfonsina Storni walked into the sea and drowned.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” Eddie shook his head, “But that’s music for another time. Right now, me and Alfie are gonna play you some Tartini.”

Eddie brought the bow up to Alfonsina’s strings but the feeling of Steve’s eyes on him made him pause. “Can you look away? Alfie gets stage fright.”

“Yeah, sure, Alfie does,” Steve rolled his eyes but fell back onto the bed, freeing Eddie from his gaze.

Eddie closed his eyes and took a deep breath in. He thought of playing Alfonsina for Mel, how she would tell him little facts about every song he played. He breathed out, bringing the bow to Alfie’s strings.

With the quiet hum of Steve’s aura accompanying him, Eddie began to play.

It was as easy as breathing for Eddie to fall into the music, concerns about Steve and Mel fading away as his bow danced through the notes of the “Devil’s Trill Sonata”. It was a technically difficult piece, but each movement came naturally for Eddie after years of practice.

He and Alfonsina had spent long hours on Tartini’s work, toiling through the night to make the piece their own. Each time Eddie was ready to give up on it, he had remembered that the Devil had composed an even more beautiful work than even Tartini could capture.

So, if it wasn’t as hard as what the Devil had created, it couldn’t be hard at all, could it?

That’s what made Eddie keep going, even when the pain in his fingers was almost too much to bear. He wasn’t going to let any piece, whether it be for violin or guitar, win. Not without trying his damnedest.

Music was one of the only things Eddie felt like he could truly control. In a life run by other people’s emotions, this was something that was all his own. When it was just Eddie and his instruments, it felt like anything could be possible. Even the most technically difficult song could be wielded to work in his favor with enough effort.

He could create something beautiful, something no one could ever take away.

Before he even realized it, Eddie was coming up to the final bars of the sonata. He held on to the last few notes, letting them ring out into the night, before finally letting go.

He didn’t know when his eyes had fallen shut, but for several moments after his bow left Alfonsina, Eddie kept them closed. He simply breathed. In and out. Letting the silence take over once more.

Only there wasn’t silence. A quiet replica of the sonata was playing, underlaid with a fluttering harp that somehow matched the piece perfectly.

Steve’s aura had latched onto Eddie’s playing and was continuing to fill the trailer with sound. It was beautiful, gorgeous in a way that very nearly brought Eddie to tears. He knew Steve’s music was something else, but he had never heard it sound like this.

Eddie opened his eyes.

#steddie #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #my writing

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buckttommy · 2 years

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Soooo. Which one of Eddie's parents is dying/will die, huh?

#Go with me here:#this episode was very Oldest Sibling Eddie coded. Again I am a youngest sibling Eddie truther #but this is the first time we have seen Eddie interact with May or ANYONE younger than him in the capacity which he did tonight #Usually when Eddie interacts with someone younger than him they are MUCH younger than him (i.e. Christopher/Charlie) or only #a few years younger (i.e. Buck/Ravi) so that the age difference doesn't matter.#May is an adult in her own right but she's also significantly younger than him and he immediately assumed a Big Brotherly role #like it was natural to him.#Keeping that in mind and also looking at the call with the mother who died #Maybe I'm reading too much into it but Oldest Daughter/Eddie seemed to have stories that follow the same/similar trajectory #both with a parent who is there but not #who goes through life thinking Everything Is OK not even noticing that their child has pulled away from them #I said it before but an episode that so heavily centers around choices (sometimes bad ones) having parents making choices for #their children that they think are for the best but only end up hurting them #and placing enormous burden of responsibility on their eldest (even unintentionally)....#Maybe Eddie goes home to face his demons but while he's there he is going to learn that either Helena or Ramon is sick and/or dying #and he's going to be the first one of his siblings to catch it. And whatever death comes next is... probably not going to fix everything #between them. But it's going to clear the air enough that Eddie can heal in his own way #just like the Oldest Daughter whose mom technically died before they got any real emotional closure but whose last words were enough #to buoy and anchor her so that she could be there for her younger siblings #End of Season 5 and beginning of Season 6 is not going to fuck around #Let's talk about healing when the parent who fucked you up is too dead to even fully understand the grasp of what they've done #to you and how you rebuild when - for all you said - there is still so much you did not get the chance to say to them #Holy shit. If this is how they take this story.... bye <3 #tv: 911 #911: 05 x 15 #911 spoilers #jack.txt

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beepboop358 · 3 years

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My Byler theories/predictions for S4

Since s4 is already confirmed to not be the last season, I don’t think Byler will officially get together in s4. I do think that we are definitely going to get a large amount of Byler’s development in s4 though, we just aren’t at the finish line yet. Since Byler has been being developed all through each of the seasons, I think the writers are playing the long game with Mike and Will. I really appreciate a queer romance that is so well developped, especially in something so popular! I think the season will end on a note where it’s understood what Mike has been struggling with, It’s made known that Will is gay, and that Mike has feelings for Will, and Will has feelings for Mike.

My predictions/theories for Byler in s4:

Mike might be acting a little off at school and Dustin is going to notice his odd behavior and ask what’s up

I think Mike will be getting in trouble at school and at home (based on whenever he doesn’t have Will/El around he does stupid things - like graffitti the bathroom wall, plagiarize essays, curse at adults, etc.) I don’t know if Mike knows about Eddie dealing drugs, but he might and he might get drugs from Eddie and do them to cope with everything he is struggling with. His parents might ground him for doing drugs, and forbid him from going to visit the Byers, and then we could get our runaway smalltown boy montage! LOL

Lonnie might come to visit the Byers in California for Will’s birthday. He will probably show up because he thinks they have money now, or he wants to sue Starcourt like he wanted to sue the quarry in s1. Mike will also be there visiting for Will’s birthday. Lonnie will mock Will and make fun of him like he always did, but he will also hate Mike. Lonnie will definitely notice Will and Mike’s dynamics and he will definitely comment about it. He might even call them homophobic slurs like we know he used to do with Will when he was younger. Lonnie will probably make Will cry and Mike upset. Lonnie might possibly “out” him and Mike before they are out and confirm it themselves. Some of the movies on the stranger writers twitter for s4 also hint at this, as well as having the baseball references. There are also hints to Will’s birthday throughout the show: The rainbow happy birthday mug seen in the crazy together scene, the “sorry i forgot your birthday card” in Will’s room from Lonnie, and Joyce’s speech in the shed discussing Will’s 8th birthday and his “rainbow ship”. Jonathan also mentions how Lonnie made him kill a rabbit on his 10th birthday and he cried for a week after, just more hints that if Lonnie shows up for Will’s bday, it’s gonna be bad.

Mike might get Will a watch for his birthday. This would reference the clocks being central to the s4 plot, and “not wanting things to change/turning back the clock” in Hopper’s letter

Will is being homophobically bullied at his new school again, possibly references to Will having HIV/AIDS because the height of the epidemic was in the 80’s and it was very stigmatized

Mike will call Will more than he will call El. Will might be slightly surprised by this, El’s frequent calling will annoy Mike and he might turn off his walkie talkie. (basically the reverse of what Mike said would happen in the s3 ending mileven scene)

Mike and Will will be in the same location for most of the season, like s2. They will not leave each other’s sides for the majority of the time they are together.

S4 Group Predictions:

- El, Will, Mike trio together with Jonathan and Argyle. (we will get some obvious tension between El, Will, and Mike, and Mike will hate Argyle at first)

- Robin, Steve, Erica, Max, Dustin, Lucas, Vickie, Eddie, Nancy

- Joyce, Murray, etc?

- Hopper and the other Russians (Dimitri, etc)

The rift between Mike and El will continue to grow.

When Mike comes to visit, she will notice he seems much more interested in Will.

El will ask why the bullies call Will those things (queer/fairy/gay/homo, probably f slurs too), what it means and if he really is “a queer”.

I don’t know if Will is going to come out to El. They have never interacted before, and I doubt Will trusts her or really likes her much mainly, because of Mike. Unless they get super close during the time not portrayed on screen between s3 and s4, or by being all each other has in California, I don’t know if he will come out to El. I could see this going either way depending on how their friendship develops. I definitely do not think Will is going to tell El he likes Mike, even if he does confide in her he is gay. I think she will find out eventually but in some other way, probably just from Mike’s behavior towards Will.

El will eventually realize she doesn’t actually love Mike and let go of the ‘romance’ aspect of their bond, but still highly value him as a friend.

Mike might be called homophobic slurs at school as well. Mike will definitely be teased (regardless of his sexuality) because he is in the hellfire club and since satanic panic is sweeping the town, people look at D&D as if it is a satanic game, and he will be teased because of that.

Based on the leaked bts pics, I have a theory a cheerleader, or someone else, might show interest in Mike. Mike will not reciprocate and she will call him out for it asking why he doesn't like her because “any other guy at this school would” or something like that, maybe even ask “what are you gay or something”. It would certainly be good for Mike’s narrative but idk if it will happen.

Will may confide in Jonathan about his feelings for Mike and the things the bullies say to him at school. Jonathan will be supportive of Will, as will Joyce. I think he will also try to protect Will from Lonnie and they will both defend Will to Lonnie.

I think we need a scene of Mike with his Mom telling him to follow his heart, like who you like, etc. because life is too short to waste it being miserable or something like that. This could be inspired by Mike’s parents seperating, but idk. This could also encourage Mike to initiate more romantic things with Will.

I would love to get a scene of Will confronting Mike for “Joining another party”, after Will said he wouldn’t.

Will and Mike need to discuss what was said in their fight.

I think since Mike's been holding in a lot of turmoil and struggling with his sexuality for so long we might get a small breakdown scene from him, of him telling Will he’s really sorry for how he treated him last summer, and for all the things he said to Will. Mike will profusely apologize and also hint at how he’s confused and been dealing with a lot.

I think Mike will be the first one to break down and confess he has feelings for Will and has been struggling with coming to terms with his sexuality.

Once Will has confirmation Mike is also struggling with his sexuality, Will might come out to him. I would love for him to reference the fight being like “You were right. I don’t like girls.” (from @itsonlystrange ‘s 4x07 byler script it’s so good!) I don't know if Will will confess he likes Mike to his face or not. I don't think it's likely given how shy Will is and how afraid he is of Mike not reciprocating, but who knows.

Mike may initiate a kiss between him and Will - towards the end of the season probably (eyewitness parallel - explained in my byler proof google slides)

I think Mike and Will might write letters to each other, with some love-y connotations. There is a lot of evidence for this in the canon comics of them writing notes to each other, and that cryptic tweet from stranger writers twitter with a blocked out message and the date Will went missing saying it wasn’t about a couple or hopper. Maybe byler related? This tweet may not be a letter but it might be. The most popular theories are that the message is to Will, “love mike”, which I love. https://twitter.com/strangerwriters/status/1184945905973153792?lang=en

Will has a new haircut (bts pics) and Mike will gush over it. Maybe some gay-panicking too hopefully

I think El will be either physically or at least emotionally distant the entire season from the other kids (again following the pattern of even and odd seasons) El needs some personal development this season, since she didn’t get any in s3.

El might confront Mike and ask if he is gay and if he likes Will, which could be El’s motivation to go off on a journey of her own to learn more about her own life. I don’t think it will be a huge fight, but El might make some references to him always lying to her. I think Mike might just kind of try to talk his way out of it at first, but he will eventually break. This might be a two part discussion and Mike doesn’t admit she is right until later. I don’t think it makes sense for El to be heartbroken (explained in my byler proof slides), just slightly annoyed. This is based off of the movie Tootsie which they borrowed the “gift” idea from in s3 already. In the movie, the girlfriend then after receiving the gift asks “Michael” if he is gay.

I really think eventually El will realize it’s okay because she doesn’t love him romantically either, and once she realizes that her own personal development can really begin.

I think we will see a noticeable change in Mike’s demeanor. I think Mike will mainly just be trying to hide that he is gay now. He joined the hellfire club so we know he’s playing d&d again meaning he is reverting back to his true self, not the weird act he put on in s3 trying to be straight and change himself. He is still struggling, but he knows he likes Will. Regardless that doesn’t mean he is going to be super clear about how he feels. He is going to be extremely afraid of opening up and then getting hurt by Will. He will probably do some of his usual ‘lead Will on and then shut it down’ thing. And I really want Will to call him out on this. This could also lead to Mike breaking down in front of Will and confessing. I think we are going to get a lot of 'Mike gay panicking' moments, he's going to be extremely afraid of being found out/suspected.

Byler things I really want to happen that we may get because they would have narrative significance:

I really want flashbacks to those 3 months of summer between the starcourt explosion and the Byers moving, of moments between Mike and Will when they hang out alone together, with some obvious romantic tension. Like where they are super playful and almost kiss, or they are kind of touchy, or something in the realm of that. I think we need a flashback of something that explains Will’s flirty nature at the very end of s3 with Mike, because he doesn't normally act like that. I want noticeable “is something going on with them?” vibes. This could also happen during the thanksgiving/christmas flashbacks.

I hope we get flashbacks of Mike going to the Byers for Thanksgiving, and the Byers coming back to Hawkins for Christmas. Preferably of some Mike and Will moments that hint at Mike’s confusion or how he feels “so alone” without Will, maybe with some “crazy together” references too! I’d also love some tension between the 3 of them, maybe this is when El starts to get suspicious of Mike liking Will.

Hopefully we get some shots of Mike biking past the byers old house and going to look at castle byers and reminiscing.

I’d love to get a flashback of Mike the day the Byers moved away, of him crying or being upset, alone in his room/basement while looking at Will’s drawings or pictures of Will and him together. Mainly to confirm for people that Mike was upset about Will moving, not as much El.

This one does not seem super probable, but it is a very popular theory. Idk if it’s possible because of location logistics, but if they spend enough time together, I’d love for Mike to get to know Robin better, and Will too. Maybe once everyone comes together at the end of the season, she will notice their dynamics and could help guide and inspire them to be themselves. Hey maybe thats for s5 :) But I do think it’s a possibility that Mike may work at the video store with Steve and Robin, and she will pick up on Mike’s behavior and understand, whether she communicates that to him or not.

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nyanhart · 2 years

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hello, im gonna add my 50 cents that no one asked for, because apparently on tumblr, we say shit about stuff that has nothing to do with us without the slightest bit of tact behind it for reference, im friends w flaaffy, but im going to stay away from my bias as much as i can look, i’m not saying flaaffy hasnt done ‘wrong’/questionable stuff before, but to condemn for her the actions that eddie also commits to...... let me put this into perspective. as a reference, im 25 years old, clearly an adult. my partner is 3 months older than me. most people i talk to are anywhere from 19-20 to as old as 30. i dont go out of my way to talk to kids (by definition for clarity’s sake, 17 and under). sure, ive modded a server of 50/50 between adults and minors before. i am in servers where minors are. it’s not that me as an adult can’t coexist with them; as an adult, i can’t call myself ‘friends’ with someone that much younger than me. perhaps on a coworker-to-coworker basis would be a bit different. other than that, i don’t talk to minors usually there are a few occasions where one pops into my dms every now and again, but that’s all it is; casual banter. i don’t have an established relationship of any kind with them. to put another point of reference, eddie (eddiemakesart) claims that their body is over 18. eddie, as an alter, ranges from 20-30. (its literally in their pinned)

look, i’m not the pinnacle of morality, but i know a power imbalance when i see one. you can’t jump on flaaffy like a pack of wild dogs on them interacting with minors but then not the issue with eddie a) constantly interacting with minors, b) minors making callouts about flaaffy on eddie’s behalf and c) the fact that eddie can barely behave himself in discord servers that may or may not contain minors. yes, he got kicked out of ask-edd because he broke the rules multiple times. i also booted him out of my server because of the aforementioned issues in ask-edd, as well as several testimonies about eddie (or so he claims ‘mike’) mistreating my friends in the past. but going away from all that, eddie could very well be older than me or flaaffy. any sort of impression of flaaffy’s behaviors were taken out of context. and even then, we’re capable of fucking up. not everyone can interact appropriately without a few hiccups, especially with a mental illness on the table. i’m really not a fan of eddie getting a bunch of kids rallying around him and witch-hunting someone on tumblr over personal beef. ive been off and on this site since 2011, and this is some juvenile shit. let me also clarify that i am not accusing eddie of doing anything weird/law-breaking with this point. i don’t have the grounds to do so, and i wouldn’t do that anyways. as someone who’s friends with flaaffy, she’s not perfect. she has her quirks and issues. but you wanna know something wacky? there was an issue with people oversharing in my server’s vent channel. while i didn’t direct it at anyone in particular, i made an announcement to cut it out, and go figure, people actually listened! flaaffy appreciated the heads up, and she’s even actually improved how she presents herself and is seeking healthier outlets. it’s almost as if just talking to people like a normal fucking human being solves issues! goddamn my crosshairs are set on eddie. i’m not blaming any minors or kids or w/e tied up in this. eddie’s an asshole and a shitty manipulator, and the fact that he can just sit up on his high horse and laugh at someone being unnecessarily hate-mobbed is fucked up. you’re so caught up in your own personal beef with another person that you would do literally anything to watch them burn. and getting kids to do your bidding for you? bro, that says a lot about you, mister 20-30 years old

#discourse #eddsworld discourse #and if eddie's s/o is stalking my blog #send this to eddie with love <3 #goat.txt

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ezgithechaotic · 4 years

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The Parent Trap | Chapter One; two sides of the same coin

pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

AU: The Parent Trap, dad!harry

series summary: Identical twins Benjamin and Edward, separated at birth and each raised by one of their biological parents, later discover each other for the first time at summer camp and make a plan to bring their wayward parents back together.

chapter summary: Benjamin and Edward tries to convince their parents that they aren’t children anymore, but it’s harder than they think.

author note: I’m sorry in advance if I have any fault. English is not my first language. But please let me know if you see anthing that doesn’t seem right. And an important note about Harry and Y/N; They probably won’t see each other for a long time. But I plan on mentioning their thoughts about each other from time to time as I did in this chapter. So, buckle up, It’s gonna be a long way :)

Please leave a comment about what you think, love you.

The Parent Trap Masterlist

Between all the paperwork, Y/N was feeling like she could go crazy any minute. When she had decided to work from home, she didn’t think that anyone could reach her at any minute. It didn’t matter whether it was weekdays or weekends. She was either answering some phonecall from her customer or choosing the right fabric for her designs. Well, except the times she was with her son, Edward.

Y/N loved her job. She started at a very early age, it would even be proper to say that she had nothing or no one but her family when she had started this job. Now, she was one of the best designers across the world. She truly loved her job. But if there was one thing she loved more than her job, it was her son. The only person who could brighten her after a long day in her study room. He was the best thing Y/N had. So, when he brought her a cup of hot coffee while she was dealing with her job's most boring side, paperwork, he brought the sunshine inside the room with him.

When Edward knocked on the door she was so focused she didn't even hear it. So little boy quietly sneaked in and gently put the cup on the big desk. When Y/N realized, she looked up and saw her son, smiling at her. With his bright green eyes and long brown locks, Edward reminded everyone of his father. At least, the ones who knew him. Y/N was very cautious about her son’s and her private life. He was her treasure that she kept away from the whole world.

"Since when are you serving coffees, young man?" Y/N smiled as she raised an eyebrow to her nine-year-old son.

Edward shrugged and made himself comfortable at one of the leather sofas. "I thought you could use some break. I know you wouldn't stop if I didn't come in."

"You know I don't need you to be the mother, it's my job."

"It's not like I'm the mother every day. I'm okay with being the mother every once in a while. I know you love your job." Y/N got up from her chair as her son kept talking. Watching him talk was like watching a flower bloom. She would give everything to stop him from growing old. "Plus we have Nate to be the mother, I'm more like, the cool aunt of family."

"Don't ever let Nate hear that. Poor guy would be devastated."

"I think he would prefer my sassy remarks rather than yours."

Y/N sat beside Edward on the leather sofa and raised an eyebrow. "What is that supposed to mean?" She couldn't help but laugh as her son giggled. "Well, you can be very mean sometimes, mom."

"Ouch, I'm bruised, Eddy."

Y/N hugged her son with one arm. He laughed as he let his mother embrace him. Edward loved physical contact even though he didn't show it. He loved resting his head on his mother's chest as they did nothing. He wasn't a very social child, he liked staying inside and being alone. He didn't have friends at his age and was never a team player unless he trusted the people around him. But with Y/N, he felt safe.

"I haven’t seen you around today."

"Well, it's because you spent your whole Saturday trapped in here. I planted those flowers in the garden with Nate today. It was fun until he started to give me lectures about being responsible."

Y/N knew her assistant could be a bit much sometimes. But he still helped her a lot, not just as her assistant, but as her friend too. Edward loved him. He was one of the best friends Y/N had. Y/N knew growing up without a dad was hard for Edward. So she was grateful to him because, after her father, Nate was one the father figures for Edward.

"You know he loves you."

"Yeah, I know."

They sat there in silence for a moment. Y/N closed her eyes as she stroked her son's hair and listened to his breathing.

"Mom?" Edward said as if he was checking his mother.

"Yes, baby?"

"You know, my birthday is coming..." Y/N frowned but still kept her eyes close.

"There are still two months until your birthday, you know. Not two days."

"I know, mom." He rolled his eyes. "I was thinking... Since I'm turning ten this year maybe you could buy me a computer. I'm not a child anymore."

"You will always be a child for me. Your age doesn't matter."

"Moooom."

Y/N laughed at his son's reaction. "I thought we talked about this before, honey. I'm not comfortable with you interacting with social media. People can be cruel."

"I'm not saying I want to have a social media account or something. But, you know, it would be good to have a computer."

Y/N took a deep breath. "I will think about it." She said and smiled. Edward hugged her with joy and thanked her for even considering it. Y/N knew people on the internet could be cruel. All she wanted was to protect him but she knew she couldn't keep him to herself until forever. He was already homeschooled and didn't have as many friends as children of his age. People were eventually going to find out. She knew it was inevitable.

"If you want to be more social, you can always think about that summer camp that Zayn was talking about."

"Mom, I don't want to be social. I don't need friends."

"Friends can be very helpful. I had a lot of friends when I was your age."

"We both know that they were Aunt Abby's friends." Edward laughed when he saw his mother's face. It wasn't wrong. Her big sister, Abigail, had been her best friend through childhood. And she was still her biggest supporter. "Plus, I have Becky. She's my age."

"Becky isn't always around."

"Yeah, because Aunt Abby isn't always around."

Since Abigail was always traveling her daughter, Becky was traveling with her too. Becky was two years younger than Edward. And Edward loved his cousin like a sister. He was happy to be her big brother.

"They won't be here for summer. So, you can always take the opportunity and go to that summer camp." Although Edward wasn't eager about it, his mother wanted him to have friends. "I will think about it."

With that, Nate stuck his head through the open door and eyed two of them. "Sorry for interrupting your mom and son time. But are you guys hungry? Because I'm dying over here."

Y/N groaned as she rested her head against the sofa. "I'm starving."

"So, tacos?"

"You know I will never, ever say no to tacos," Edward said.

Y/N laughed but before she could answer her phone started to ring. She got up and found her phone inside the whole mess. "I need to answer this. Why don't you guys go ahead and order?"

Before he got up, Edward looked at her mother with meaningful eyes. "You will think about the computer, right?" Y/N smiled and planted a kiss on top of his head.

"I will, baby."

While Edward made his way to the kitchen, Nate stayed back.

"How long are you planning on keeping it secret from him?"

"As long as I can, Nate."

"He deserves to know."

Y/N took a deep breath. "I don't need a lecture about it. I know he will eventually ask. I will just let future Y/N deal with it."

"This is one of the worst answers you've ever given."

"You're being very helpful, Nate, thank you."

"You're welcome." Y/N shook her head and answered the call as Nate returned to the kitchen.

At the same time, Y/N made her way to the kitchen, Harry was walking towards Benjamin's room to wake him up, in a completely different country.

Harry knocked three times on his son's door. Even though he knew it was going to take more than three knocks to wake Benjamin up, Harry still had faith. But Ben was still asleep at the other side of the white-painted door. After a second or two, Harry opened the door with a sigh.

"It's time to wake up, buddy!"

Benjamin was tangled between his dark blue sheets. His short curly hair lying on the pillow, his green eyes shut. It was still mindblowing how much he looked like his father. At times like these, Harry never wanted to wake him up. If someone looked at him from where he stood, they would think that he was an angel. The only thing was that his son was the devil himself. And he didn't know if he should be proud or disappointed.

"Benny, breakfast is getting cold," Harry said as he opened the curtains. "Get up, now."

Benjamin groaned into his pillow. If there was one thing he hated most, it was waking up. He was never a morning person. The resemblance between Benjamin and his mother always made Harry a little bittersweet. It was like the universe didn't want him to forget her. As if forgetting her was an option. She was in every song he heard or wrote.

"Why can't I sleep more?" Benjamin asked, his eyes still closed. "Why do you have to be so cruel to wake me up at the crack of dawn?"

"It's almost noon, Ben."

"Well, still the crack of dawn."

Harry laughed at his son's reaction. Benjamin had always been sassy, but he always found a way to people's hearth, especially Harry's. He was something Harry couldn't explain. Benjamin was everything Harry had and he would give everything up for him without a doubt.

"So, should we let Jeffrey eat all the pancakes?"

Benjamin peeked through one open eye with a smile on his face. "Pancakes don't sound so bad. I like Katty's pancakes."

Katty was Benjamin's nanny and she usually helped Harry around the house with chores and dinner. She was one of the exceptional people around Benjamin. He liked her, and she helped him when he needed some woman influence.

Benjamin never held back what he thought about the person across him. Whenever Harry found some nanny he either scared them with his pranks or his remarks. But Katty was the only nanny who could have fun with him rather than running away from him. She was more like a sister to Benjamin. And Harry was happy that Benjamin could trust Katty as much as he trusted Gemma.

"Sorry, pal, you have to settle for my pancakes because Katty won't be here today."

Benjamin sighed. "So we're eating burnt pancakes, again?"

Harry acted like he was annoyed. "You weren't saying that before Katty."

"Because I didn't know chocolate chip pancakes existed."

"You always have something to say, don't you?"

Just like your mother.

" And I'm not even awake, yet. Think about the things I would say if I was awake."

"You sound pretty awake to me, buddy." He let Benjamin free from all the sheets. "Time to get up."

After five pancakes and two glass of orange juice, Benjamin was awake more than ever. While he was playing a game on the big television, Harry and Jeffrey were talking about upcoming projects.

"...for June we'll be recording the album and then you have that project with Gucci in July."

"I thought we were going to go to Holmes Chapel and see grandma this June," Benjamin questioned, suddenly not so interested in his game.

"I don't think we'll be able to do that, buddy. We'll be in Los Angeles."

"Will Camille be with us?"

Camille was Harry's current girlfriend. And Benjamin did not like her at all. After Y/N, Harry didn't have any relationship for a long time. Not just because he thought it would be hard for Benjamin if it didn't work out, but also he wasn't ready for getting heartbroken again. Camille was his longest relationship despite Benjamin's dislike for her.

"Yeah, probably."

Benjamin grunted with vexation and let himself fell on the couch again.

"Do I have to be there?" Benjamin looked at his father with hope. "Can't I just stay with grandma?"

"A month is a long time Benny."

"Yeah, dad, I know. That's why I don't want to spend it with Camille."

"I would appreciate it if you just tried to like her."

"Or you could just send me to the summer camp I've been talking about."

Harry took a deep breath. "We talked about this, Benny. I can't send you somewhere I've never heard before."

"But Freddie is going too." Benjamin whined.

"What's up with this summer camp?" Jeffrey asked when he couldn't help his curiosity.

"Something he heard from Freddie, I guess. He's been talking about it non-stop."

"Why don't you just let him go?"

"You know why, Jeff."

"You're just being paranoid, Harry. Let him have some fun. It's already hard to be the son of a famous pop star."

Jeffrey made Harry hesitate. He was right and Harry knew that. It was just scary to be away from him for more than a month. And since Benjamin wasn't a calm kid, it made it harder for him to decide. He wasn’t going to be there when things were going to go bad. But when he saw his son sitting there not even giving attention to the game all devastated, he couldn't help but say yes.

"You can go as long as you promise to be nice."

"Really?"

"Really."

"You're the best, dad!"

Benjamin hugged him so tight and smiled so bright that it made every bad thought Harry had, vanish. He hugged his son back. Apologizing to him without words for everything he took away from him, for everything he could have if he and his mom hadn’t been so stubborn.

If he only knew that Benjamin would take everything back with a simple summer camp.

#harry styles #harry styles au #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #one direction imagine #the parent trap au

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angerissue · 3 years

Text

Character Survey.

Real name: Dr. Robert Bruce Banner, Ph.D..

Single or taken: Single, and this probably isn't going to change anytime soon. He has a number of ingrained emotional issues, and ideological issues that pertain to his condition, that prevent him from seeking romantic relationships and even just becoming close to someone. One-night stands are possible, because they don’t involve emotional commitment from either party, but real relationships scare the hell out of him. The closer that someone gets to Bruce, the more he fears hurting them or being hurt himself.

Abilities or powers: He has an extremely high IQ, almost unprecedented intuition when it comes to the sciences and its numerous technologies, and a great ability to think outside the box and solve complicated, confounding problems. Also, he can turn big and green, which makes him capable of inhuman physical feats and gives him a ridiculous healing factor. This cannot be understated; he can literally recover from decapitation if the conditions are right. It's debatable whether these qualify as gifts or curses, because of the experiences they've created for Bruce in the past, but they're definitely abilities at the least.

Eye colour: Brown. Sometimes green if he’s in a mood.

Hair colour: Dark brown with some grey.

Family members: Rebecca Banner (mother / deceased), Brian Banner (father / incarcerated), Jennifer Walters (cousin / alive), Susan Drake (adoptive aunt / unknown), Elaine Banner (aunt / deceased).

Pets: In The Persistence, he owns a white knockout mouse named Eddie, who came from a selection of ailing lab mice that he experimented on with the Hulk's plasma. He doesn’t have pets in other verses, though he wouldn’t mind a cat, or a dog with a calm and mellow demeanour, as long as his living situation and overall routine is constant and undisturbed. Otherwise, it will never be a possibility. Back when General Ross' squad broke down his door in Brazil, he needed to abandon a mutt named Rick, and it hurt because he’d become very fond of him. He doesn't want to do this to another animal.

Hobbies or activities: He loves hiking and jogging (with trails in forested areas being his preferred location), cooking and baking, gardening, reading textbooks and science journalism, bait fishing, programming and experimenting, travelling, sightseeing, meditation, yoga, collecting and listening to vinyl records, and being a rebel by listening to police scanners and going after bad guys if he doesn't have much else to do. But even if it seems like he's not outwardly doing anything, he's probably still occupied — he tends to spend a profuse amount of time in his own head, ruminating and reflecting on future goals, whether it involves anticipating or dreading them. He also likes to contemplate new concepts and designs for technologies.

Animal that represents them: Definitely a pangolin, because you can’t look at a pangolin and the way it carries itself and not think of Banner from a purely visual perspective. Add on the fact that their bodies are covered in hardened scales for defense, and how they curl up into a ball whenever they're upset and threatened, and you have a metaphorical version of Bruce, who tends to shy away and retreat into himself whenever he's having a lower moment, and has a lot of deep-seated defensive mechanisms on display during social interactions. But seriously, these animals just want to walk around eating ants, minding their own business. They don’t have a bone to pick with anyone... Which is also similar to Bruce. And did I mention that pangolins are endangered, because they're frequently hunted and trapped by humans for their supposed “beneficial properties” in medicine (none of which are proven)? That's similar to how Banner has been followed all over the place by the U.S. military, just because they perceived his condition to be useful somehow.

Worst habits: Take your pick. Distancing himself from other people even when he could use the company, self-flagellation, humouring his guilt complex even when he's not responsible for certain negative outcomes, repressing or suppressing his emotions when he needs to express them (or the opposite, staying as the Hulk so he can stew in those strong emotions and therefore punish himself for whatever he “did wrong”), running away from connections that involve real commitment, especially romantic ones.

Role models: Steve Rogers for his patriotism and overall sense of morality, Neils Bohr for his defense of the Bohr atomic model (which had been a radical theory for the time) and subsequent successes, Ernest Rutherford for similar reasons, and his mother when he was younger, though he doesn’t remember much about her because he was only six when she died. Same goes for his aunt, Susan; while he spent more time around her than Rebecca in total, he was rather emotionally absent by this point because of all the trauma earlier in his childhood. In general, his role models tend to be people who remain strong in the face of adversity and judgement, and stick to their values for the benefit of others. All the above people qualify in that sense, for different reasons.

Sexual orientation: Heterosexual.

Thoughts on marriage and kids: Nope, and bigger nope. He would love to have a close connection with someone, however much he's actually repressed the desire for the time being, and some part of him does want to have a child — however, he always concludes that it wouldn't be worth it. Bruce believes marriage would be a shackle for anyone who's unfortunate enough to become his partner, and it would open them up to potential threats from people who could use them to get to him and his condition. And children are a no-go because Bruce doesn’t want them to have a father like him; he might be absent for a lot of their upbringing, and either unstable or otherwise unaccommodating in temperament if he’s upset. And he'll constantly be trying to hide his condition from them as well, because god forbid they find out their father is a monster, and they feel like a freak because of it. He's been in a position where he felt like an anomaly as a child, and he's not interested in subjecting his children to this. He also loathes the idea of bringing children into the world because he would not be able to ensure their safety — after all, he can’t even ensure his own. So to Bruce, he'd be setting them up for endangerment just because they’re related to him, similar to how his partner would become a target as well.

Style preferences: Safe and conservative, and not flamboyant by any means. He usually sticks to warmer and neutral palettes, and cuts/styles that are classic and unlikely to fall out of style; this includes his suits, jackets, pants, and shirts. We're talking chinos and slacks, poplin dress shirts, wool sport coats and blazers. Most occasions will see him wearing the dress shirt, slacks, and sport coat together. If he's feeling more adventurous, he'll pair a sport coat with a crewneck, or he could even go with a polo shirt and jeans, but the latter is rare. In general, Bruce's most interesting piece is a brown leather bomber jacket, which he usually wears in the warmer months; colder weather will bring out a peacoat (and he loves to pop the collar in lieu of using a scarf). As far as cost goes, Bruce is fairly well-off between the royalties from S.H.I.E.L.D. and other work he's done here and there, but even so, he doesn't purchase outrageously expensive clothing and tends to go for the mid-upper brands. He'll do made-to-measure, but not full bespoke. He finds any further spending to be superfluous.

Approach to friendships: Cautious and uncertain about them, and tends not to approach people first, because he would hate to overstep his boundaries / make someone uncomfortable. Rather accommodating to people he considers friends, but he's extremely quick to duck out if they can’t meet him eye-to-eye regarding touchy topics, like decisions that affect the well-being of many people. This is the reason he shunned his friendship with Tony after they debated about the Sokovia Accords. Being an introvert, he’s one of those people who doesn't like bothering his friends; even if they make it abundantly clear that he's welcome anytime, he'll hesitate, but he’s completely okay and even happy if those friends approach him instead. He doesn't always like when his personal space is invaded, or if someone touches him, but he'll start to make exceptions if he becomes more familiar with someone. He loves the people that he can consider friends, but he always views the friendships as something that could dissolve in a heartbeat. On some level, even unconscious, he's always expecting things to end.

Thoughts on pie: An acceptable desert. Bumbleberry, strawberry rhubarb, and pumpkin are his favourites. He prefers the homemade variety, and because of it, he tends to make his own, butter crust and all, avoiding store-bought unless it’s particularly memorable — or if someone buys a slice for him. He’s appreciative like that.

Favourite place to spend time: Somewhere he can guarantee that he's not being watched; these are most commonly his labs in the Northwind Observatory, quiet and secluded trails, or his chambers in the Crown City citadel on Sakaar. Not only do these locations ease his anxieties about being studied, inspected, or followed, but he feels less of a pressure to put on false pretenses and exhaust himself with social niceties, many of which may be fabricated. He doesn’t need much external stimulation, because he’s fine simply turning inward and thinking, without paying much attention to his surroundings, but he’ll certainly admit to spending a ton of time tinkering with pet projects if he’s in the labs. Obviously, Bruce prefers to be alone in most of these cases. But if he's with someone he cares about, whether a friend or a romantic partner, and can openly express himself around them, that's nice for him too.

Swim in the lake or ocean: Lakes, without question. He has some bad memories of being in the ocean, whether it’s about the time he was tossing and turning in glacial waters after his failed suicide attempt, or clawing his way out of a quinjet that crashed into the water while his alter started to take over. Bruce remembers all that, and it's not pleasant. The openness of oceans perturb him as well; lakes are usually far more intimate and amniotic because they’re often surrounded by forests, which allows him to feel safer and less exposed.

Their type: Someone who is, and is comfortable with showing, some semblance of dependence on him, which would placate his need to fill a provider role and not simply be a charity case; he's had enough of that between begging on the streets and asking Tony Stark for boarding. (This doesn't mean he's looking for someone who's a total pushover, cannot make their own decisions, or is emotionally needy, because those would make him run in the other direction, frankly.) Someone who can hold their own and stand up for their beliefs when necessary. Someone who can challenge him intellectually, though not necessarily in an academic sense; it really just depends on how much they can expand his own perspective by giving their own. Someone who really understands his needs and issues. And obviously, someone who isn't scared of his condition, because it's going to manifest a lot. It needs to; he doesn't really have a choice in the matter. Hulk is another story, but fortunately, he doesn't show up enough to really be an immediate concern, and Bruce and his partner can cross that bridge when they reach it. Physically, he's usually attracted to women who are slightly shorter than him; their hair can be anything from blonde to brown, and he prefers body types that are similar to his own; more on the slender side but not necessarily fragile.

Camping or indoors: He’d rather be indoors. He isn’t extremely fond of camping, if we’re using the most common definition of "pitching a tent, cooking with a fire made from sticks and tinder, and spending the night in the woods with the bears and the bugs". There are indeed occasions where he cannot stand to be indoors, whether because he’s feeling claustrophobic (a common symptom of abstaining a little too long from transformations), or he simply needs some time away from other people in the geographic sense, but in those cases, he’s more likely to go for a walk or hike, not set up an entire campsite and spend the rest of the night outdoors. For him, camping is meant for a survival-type situation rather than a recreational one. The closest thing to camping he'll do is living in a cabin with a wood stove and local water supply, which he’s done a few times over the years. He's even purchased a few cabins by the time his Persistence verse rolls around, so if one of the properties are compromised, he could always retreat to another one.

Tagged by: @mynameisanakin! Tagging: @fallencomrade , @asgardianhammer , @alongingwithin , and anyone else who wants to do this.

#( meme response. )#( headcanon. )#( multiple. )

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anxiouslymalicious · 5 years

Text

Losers Club Plus One Part 3

Richie Tozier x daughter!reader series Read the previous part here or go here for the series masterlist.

A/N: Thank you all so fucking much for the amazing and overwhelming feedback! I appreciate all of this so much! The word count on this is almost 3000 words so lean back and enjoy the ride. Warnings apply as usual, but I hope you enjoy!

Silent tears had been rolling down Y/N’s cheek as Richie drove them back to the Town House. Her whole body felt cold, adrenaline was wearing off and the young girl could feel her throat burning, her joints aching, her eyes stinging as hot tears created an unwelcome contrast on the skin of her cheeks.

Richie was trying to crack her up with jokes, desperate to get any kind of reaction out of her but she remained quiet, safe for the occasional whimper leaving her lips although she bit her lip in hopes of keeping them in. Y/N didn’t want her father to worry more about her than he already did. She knew that she had to keep herself together until they got back home. Home. Where she was safe, where she could build walls and crumble behind them, just like she knew her father would. His walls were more out there but concealed very well. He had always used his humour as a wall to shut the people out, but the wall had a weak spot for his little girl. She was the only one who cared to look behind that wall, the only person he felt comfortable with, enough so to tell her honestly about how he felt.

“We’re not going home, dad.” The girl suddenly spoke up. Richie felt his eyes fill with tears again that he quickly tried to blink away.

“Yes, we are. I’m not arguing about this. I am your father. I say we are going home.” Richie replied, anger seemingly filling his slumped over body. His body felt too heavy to sit upright for another minute. But it wasn’t hot anger that was running through his veins, no, it was ice cold fear.

“Dad, you knew why he was calling from the start. Don’t act like you thought this was going to be a happy little get together with old friends. You threw up after Mike called and I know that it wasn’t just your usual nervous stomach. That wasn’t a new set, not a new place, you knew what you were getting yourself into. And who says that IT will not follow us if we run away now?” Y/N replied angrily. Richie parked the car in front of the Town House, shortly followed by Eddie’s car.

“Listen. We are going to get out of this car, get our shit, and walk away from this place without ever looking back. I am not going to risk your life or mine to fight that stupid bitch again.” Richie told his daughter before getting out of the car, harshly slamming the door behind him.

“So, you would rather see your friends die fighting without you?” she yelled through the hotel lobby where Eddie was already waiting for the pair, ready to walk back to their rooms with them. Eddie was shocked to say the least. The girl who had looked so vulnerable only minutes ago, crying and shaking in her father’s arms, was now looking so incredibly strong and out there, a fearless warrior who was ready to join the losers in their fight against Pennywise. She intimidated Eddie for a moment.

Richie ignored his daughter, instead going with Eddie to their respective rooms. Rather than joining her father, Y/N stayed in the entrance hall, sitting down on the stairs, elbows resting on her knees, head in her hands.

“You’re right.” Eddie said softly, walking back down to the girl. “We are cowards and we would rather run from this than face it again, but we have been through a lot as kids and Richie is scared of losing you. You couldn’t imagine what we have seen.”

“So blood spraying out of a fortune cookie and kids that turn into men to kill you are pretty fucking normal in this town?” Y/N asked in return. Eddie remained quiet for a minute, then sighed deeply.

“IT really did pay you a visit, huh?” he asked with a hummed sigh before sitting down next to her.

“I’m assuming that’s what it was. Kids usually don’t turn into adults in the blink of an eye back in LA.” Y/N joked, looking up at Eddie for the first time.

“I’m honestly sorry. But maybe that’s one more reason for you to listen to Richie. He only means well. He’s worried.” Eddie moved one of his arms to rest on Y/N’s back, hoping to provide some sort of comfort in this nightmare of a day. Y/N slung her arm around the skinny man’s waist, leaning against him for a second. He knew that she would remain as headstrong as she was before, after all, she was Richie Trashmouth Tozier’s daughter. The two separated again, Eddie going his way to pack up while Y/N was still sitting on the stairs, trying to understand or even get a grasp on what was going on.

Little did the two know that their beloved Trashmouth was watching their talk, the sweet little interactions, with a heart that felt like it would burst from being so filled with love. For a beautiful moment, everything seemed to be good. His daughter and the man he had more than platonic feelings for were getting along so well, for a moment they looked like they could actually be a family. Like they could grow to be a family. His family.

Richie scurried back into his room, telling himself that he just kept on watching because he feared IT might get back to the girl if he didn’t watch her at all times, telling himself that this was just a stupid childhood crush bubbling up again which he would forget about as soon as he left town, then threw what little clothing he had unpacked back into his suitcase, gathering Y/N’s possessions once he was done.

Ben and Beverly arrived not soon after, walking straight to the bar to get some drinks. Y/N watched them interact; they seemed anxious, stressed out, but Ben seemed strangely determined. Y/N felt weird watching the two from the shadows, thus cleared her throat as Ben and Beverly stepped a little too close to each other for comfort, effectively diverting their focus onto her.

“Might want to keep things PG around here.” She told them with a small smile on her lips. Beverly and Ben gave her a shocked look before Ben chuckled a little, muttering a ‘Peep-peep.’ Which confused Y/N for a second before another voice made her shake off the thought.

“You really are Richie’s kid.” Beverly said with a soft smile directed at the younger girl.

“Yep, she is. And that’s why she’s going home with me. Eduardo! Ándale, let’s go!” Richie replied, raising his voice at the last part to reach Eddie upstairs in his room. Y/N could make out that her father also carried her bag, making her clench her fists in anger and pull it away from him. He, although reluctant, complied. Richie knew that she wouldn’t stop fighting him until he gave in. After all, he wouldn’t act much differently.

“There is something you’re not telling us. You knew how Stanley died. You knew.” said Ben, hopeful for a reaction from the now very distant Beverly. Her eyes weren’t as bright, Y/N noticed. Glassy. Unsure.

“Wait what?” Richie was speechless, confused.

Beverly ignored Ben and Richie as she walked towards the front desk, ringing the bell for someone to help her, but ultimately choosing to pick one herself, in dire need to escape the uncomfortable situation.

“I’ve seen all of us die.” Beverly finally said, knowing that she couldn’t and wouldn’t get out of the situation without talking. Neither the men nor the girl said anything, but Y/N began piecing things together. Or so she thought. Because, admittedly, the girl was still feeling about as smart as she did when she was on the plane with her father. She had caught up snippets of memories during lunch along with being Richie’s mental storage unit, but none of the things the adults were saying made any sense to her, really. And it was starting to irritate her. So, Beverly had seen each of her friends die when they were kids. But why? And how did they fight IT? If they even did fight IT. Would they fight IT again? What even was IT? And what in hell was up with that clown?

Eddie came stumbling down the stairs, two huge suitcases with him, more than ready to leave the hellhole he grew up in when he spotted the four people. Y/N had subconsciously moved closer to her father again, suitcase carelessly dropped on the ground as she, like the adults, was stuck insider her head, trying to understand what the revelation might mean.

“What did I miss?” Eddie suddenly asked, dropping the heavy luggage on the stairs. Everyone was quiet for a moment before Y/N spoke up.

“Beverly has seen you all die, but that’s not really something special here in this town, right? I mean I have barely spent a few hours here and have been told that I would float, whatever that’s supposed to mean, and was almost killed when I tried to take a shower. Oh, and my fortune cookie made me look like a serial killer. This is perfectly normal and I’m not going insane. Right?” Y/N was desperate for someone to tell her that she was fine, that all of them were simply pulling cruel pranks on her, but no one did. The adults simply looked at her helplessly, pain clearly visible on their faces, as they watched the girl struggle with what she had gone through already. Tears were stinging in her eyes, her father trying to pull her into him, but she pushed him away with a whimper, walking away from the adults to sit on the stairs. Y/N felt like her knees were about to give in under her. And she wasn’t about to break down in front of her father. Y/N was too scared it might be the last straw that might make him take her home. Although going home didn’t sound so bad, she felt that this was bigger than just them. Hell, one of their friends had died after being asked to come back, this must be the real shit. The girl, once more, hid her face in her hands, with her elbows resting on her thighs with the intention of blocking everything out.

Hoping to calm herself.

Find comfort in herself.

Eddie laid a hand on Richie’s shoulder as they looked back at the girl who was now sitting on the bottom of the stairs. Richie sniffed shortly before giving Eddie an appreciative smile, lasting until the smaller man turned away from him and shifted his attention to Beverly.

“What do you mean you’ve seen us all die?” Eddie now asked, anxious to hear the answer.

“Yeah cause I gotta be honest, that’s a fucked-up thing to just drop on somebody.” Richie joined in.

The red-headed woman went on to explain her nightmares, causing Eddie to grow hopeful because ‘everyone has nightmares, right?’. Bill and Mike, who had returned to the group, looked rather distressed at the confession, knowing that Beverly’s nightmares weren’t just ordinary nightmares but more. The consequences should they not act. Their future should they not kill Pennywise. And, one after another, the other losers realised just that.

Y/N didn’t listen to their discussions about death, IT, nightmares and what other weird kind of bullshit they had on their minds. The young girl was still too frustrated with herself and them and decided to take a fucking break. She slipped her phone out of her jeans pocket and read the messages her friends had sent her. No one was really worried when she told her friends that she wouldn’t be coming to school because of a family emergency. No one had questioned her, and, seemingly, no one really missed her. The only messages she received were in group chats, asking for homework or whatever, no one had asked the young girl whether she was alright, her family was alright, or to see if she was even still alive.

‘Poor litte Y/N’ a message suddenly popped up. No number, no name, just the message. She tapped on the chat and only seconds later, more messages filled the screen.

‘No one really cares’

‘No one really loves you.’

‘Who are you? She texted back, heart hammering against her chest. The young girl gulped, anxious for an answer.

‘Oh, you know who I am.’

‘I can be anyone I want to be. Like Stanley in the bathroom.’

‘But who are you?’

‘Are you sure you know who you are?’

‘You are IT, right? Why are you doing this and what do you mean?’ Y/N’s fingers were shaking as she hastily hit the keys on her smartphone.

‘You’re scared. And scared children always taste better.’

‘You’ll float, too Y/N. You’ll float with Stanley and Georgie and all the other children. And no one will stop me from taking you.’

‘I can almost smell your fear. Taste it. I’m right there with you.’

And suddenly, pictures were sent to her phone. Pictures from the destroyed bathroom in their room.

Their room.

The door to the hallway.

The hallway.

The stairs.

“Come on, Y/N. We’ve got to go.” Beverly said gently, making the girl gasp as she finally tore her eyes away from the display of her phone. Short breaths were coming from her mouth, heart hammering painfully against her ribcage, almost like it was about to burst out of her chest. She looked at Beverly with fearful eyes, quickly locking her phone as to not show anyone what had just happened. Beverly looked at her, a clear question in her eyes. ‘Are you alright?’ And, silently, with a watery smile and a curt nod, Y/N answered before taking the hand Bev was holding out before her, letting the woman pull her to her feet.

Richie was watching the scene with a small, slightly pained, but mostly happy smile. He loved his daughter and he loved that the losers accepted her as one of them, but he hated that she had to be here, in this place, at this moment.

“You know, it’s no shame to talk. We all had to overcome that when we were children. Especially your father had a hard time accepting that Pennywise was real. I think it took him two or three encounters with IT to realise that none of us were joking.” Beverly said, a small smile gracing her lips as she pulled the shaking figure closer to her.

“I’m not doubting that whatever IT is, is real. I’ve seen it. I think ITs name was Stanley though. IT keeps- kept talking about him when it attacked me.”

“What did the man look like? Richie mentioned the incident several times.”

“He was tall. Curly hair. But at first, he was about my age. Light, curly hair. Brown eyes. Thin lips. Then, I looked away from him for a second and when I looked back, the kid was grown up. His hair was darker, but just as curly. And his wrists… He had cuts on them, leading up his arm. Like he killed himself.” The girl told her, Beverly nodding along with a heavy heart. Pennywise had taken on Stan’s appearance, IT knew what had happened to Stan, hell, IT was probably responsible for Stan’s tragic death!

“I think you might be right. The man you saw could have been Stan. Stanley Uris. He was one of us losers. A kind soul. A gentle soul. He was a bit scared back in the day, but who wasn’t? He always tried to be as rational as possible. I miss him. Stan and his bird book.” Beverly replied, her vision going blurry with unshed tears that she tried to blink away. Y/N nodded, feeling bad about mentioning Stan. She still had many questions but decided not to ask them in fear of causing Bev even more pain.

The pair finally reached the door where Richie was standing, holding the door open for the women before getting engaged in a conversation with someone again.

Just as the hotel door had closed behind them, Y/N received another message. She quickly opened it to see that it was a picture.

Of her back. Walking through the door.

The tiny hairs on her arms and neck stood up straight, her whole body running cold and numb with fear. Slowly, as to not draw more attention to herself, she looked back, just in time to see a clown in a silvery costume and orange hair, the most evil smile on his make up covered face and a single red balloon in his hand.

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Tags: (tell me via ask, message or comment if you want to be tagged in the next parts!)

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softlass27 · 4 years

Text

So... I had a couple of comments on my Robron foster parenting fic from last week, asking for more of this universe. I don’t know if I’ll ever properly write it as a full story, but what I do have are some little character profiles for each of the kids mentioned, as well as their ages when the Home Farm move takes place :)

Seb (11)

So Aaron and Robert had many (so many) discussions about – and with – Seb before they started fostering. They were initially very worried about the risk of Seb feeling neglected or sidelined by them bringing more children – some of whom may require extra care and attention – into the home. Robert was especially concerned about this, considering his own bad experiences when his parents took in Andy.

But Seb, being the good (fantastic) kid that he is, takes it all in his stride. For the most part, he loves having a big family, even if its not the most conventional. He was already pretty mature for his age, so he understands why sometimes the other kids might need some extra support with things. Before he came to live in Emmerdale permanently, his home life with Ross and Rebecca wasn’t exactly stable (thank god his dads got him out of there – he has a feeling that’s what gave them the fostering idea in the first place), so he knows a little of what it’s like to come from a difficult environment.

As much as he’s cool with his living situation, he does occasionally ask for a bit of one-on-one time with his dads, which they will go above and beyond to give him no matter what’s going on with the family.

Rather enjoys being the eldest – and therefore the leader – of the bunch. Aaron says he gets that from Robert.

Very witty for his age, and never without a good comeback. Robert says he gets that from Aaron.

Really likes cooking with Robert, and has been ever since he was just a wee boy.

Once showed his parents a 10-slide powerpoint presentation on why he and Eddie should get a super-cool race car bunkbed from Ikea.

Eddie (10)

Eddie is, well… loud. A chaotic boy. But a very sweet one.

He has ADHD, so he struggles a little at school and gets into trouble every now and then (mainly for talking), but for the most part his teachers can’t help taking a liking to him.

Eddie loves attention, but he’s harmless in the way he seeks it. Telling jokes, presenting pictures he’s drawn (he loves comic books and often likes to create his own), showing off a new trick on his bike or skateboard. It’s rare for his foster family to go longer than a day without someone hearing him shout, “Hey, watch this!” Aaron and Robert often have to gently remind him to use his inside voice, and not to railroad the others when they’re trying to say something or pick an activity.

More than anything, Eddie just wants to be noticed. He never got much of that with his mum, who fails to turn up for their supervised visits more often than not. It’s agonising for Aaron and Robert to watch him be let down by her over and over again, trying so hard to cover up his hurt by shrugging and saying it doesn’t matter, then acting like there’s nothing wrong by throwing himself into playing video games with Seb as soon as they get home. But one of them will normally find him curled up crying a few hours later, and it takes lots of cuddles, ice cream and a super hero movie to make him feel better.

Eddie’s only six months younger than Seb, which Robert was initially worried about (again, his memories of Andy coming into play there), but the two of them are thick as thieves. They’re kind of chalk and cheese personality-wise, but they actually balance each other out pretty well.

Will do literally any dare he’s given. This has led to more than one trip to A&E and more than one grey hair for Robert.

Theme parks are his favourite places in the world.

Would live on pizza if he could.

Clumsy as hell. Never put anything breakable in Eddie’s reach.

Lottie (7)

Lottie is by far the shyest, quietest of the kids. She didn’t bring any toys or games with her, but she did bring a small backpack of books that she clung onto like a lifeline. This gave Robert (as we all know, an avid reader) something to bond over with her, and he soon discovered that a way to get Lottie talking was to ask her which books she likes.

The answer, as it happens, is anything fantasy-based. The Narnia series, The Hobbit, Peter Pan, most fairy tales… anything with some magic and maybe a princess and she’s sold. They have a feeling her books have been a bit of an escape from reality for her in the past, so they make sure her bedroom has a nice little bookcase so she can keep them close.

Her favourite thing after reading is playing in the garden or around the village. Sometimes with the others but again, she’s quite happy in her own little world. Before coming to live in Emmerdale, she’d been brought up in a cramped flat in a city centre, surrounded by traffic and concrete. So living in somewhere like the Yorkshire Dales (and all the space that comes with it) is a total novelty to her. She takes to it like a duck in water though, loves the green fields and the streams and the animals. She’ll spend hours running around in the dirt (usually spreading it all over the house when she gets home, too) and becomes a proper country girl. Robert gets her the complete Beatrix Potter collection, combining her two loves.

Because she’s so content with her nose in a book, Aaron and Robert do have to prompt her to join in with the others sometimes. But once she’s been given a nudge, she’ll usually put down whatever she’s reading and interact with her foster family. She does like having fun with the others, she just likes to have her space, too.

Aaron and Robert have lost her in Waterstones more than once.

The biggest cuddler, and the most likely to crawl into Aaron and Robert’s bed on a weekend morning.

A huge fan of beans on toast, and therefore prefers Aaron’s cooking to Robert’s.

Cannot do maths. Will never be able to get the hang of maths. Thinks maths is the stupidest thing ever invented.

Has just one or two friends at school and likes it that way.

Takes it upon herself to be the one to read Tasha’s bedtime story most nights.

Mike (6)

Mike was initially the most… difficult in terms of behaviour. He was too small to do much damage, but his first few weeks with them involved a fair bit of biting and scratching, and he got very easily wound up. Lots of tears and mood swings.

Aaron was so good with him. Robert was too, but from the beginning Aaron had a real knack for calming Mike down when he was distressed. It took several months to really get him settled (he tried to run away more than once – not that he got very far in their tiny village), but with a lot of patience and the right support, they figured it out in the end.

Now Mike is much calmer, and much happier. He still has his moments, but he never lashes out like violently like he used to. He gets some additional help from the school, and Aaron and Robert both have a lot of meetings with his teachers to check in on everything.

As mentioned in the original fic, he’s really not great with the dark. But they’ve managed to work their way from him needing the big light on at night, to his bedside lamp, down to a single nightlight, so he’s getting there.

Absolutely idolises Eddie, and tries to copy everything he does. Aaron and Robert are both praying this hero worship will transition from Eddie to Seb, just so they can have a slightly easier life.

Also adores their ginger tabby cat, Pumpkin (named by Seb when they got her one October). All the kids love her, but she and Mike have a Special Connection, and when he gets home from school, he will not rest until he’s tracked Pumpkin down, snuggled up with with her and told her all about his day. He finds her purrs very calming.

Loves a good LEGO model. Him and Robert will spend hours on them.

Karate-obsessed. He’s been into it every since his first lesson, but has to be told more than once that he is not to try out any moves on his foster siblings.

Will inevitably lose most things. Toys, gloves, crayons, homework, shoes (one time while he was wearing them – Aaron and Robert still can’t work that one out)… he simply cannot keep track of where anything is.

Hates reading and never picks up a book unless he has to for English homework. Lottie is scandalised by this. Scandalised.

Natasha (Tasha) (4)

The baby of the group, and the youngest Aaron and Robert have ever fostered, which they were initially a little hesitant about. When they first brought her home just after she’d turned 3, she had very limited speech for a child her age. Even her crying was near-silent.

But with time, effort, and some speech therapy, she comes along leaps and bounds. Once she starts picking words up from her foster parents (as well as the nonstop chatter from the other kids), she doesn’t stop, it’s amazing how fast she gets the hang of it. Now it’s a miracle if they can get her to stop talking.

A very big fan of Postman Pat.

Will do almost anything for a chocolate biscuit.

Steals Aaron’s hoodies and uses them as blankets.

Has the biggest eyes anyone has ever seen, and her foster parents are dreading the day she works out that this helps her get away with stuff.

Can usually be seen wearing fairy wings.

Likes to sit on the floor and watch the washing machine when it’s on.

#yeah apologies if this isn't the most coherent #it's late and i'm rambling #but i'm already so attached to these babies!#robron #fostering au #my writing #also i should mention i have no direct experience with fostering #or being fostered #just putting that out there incase of any inaccuracies!

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yikestripes · 4 years

Text

Same old

A/N: Here you go anon!!! I hope you enjoy!!!!

Pairing: Bill x Reader

Request: May I request a fic with Bill Denbrough x reader that has Bill saving the reader from her worst fear that Pennywise is putting her through? (which can be something related to bullying or some sort of phobia). And I do think it’s more fitting as adults considering what happened in the second movie, but it’s also fine if they’re written younger—

(Y/D/J) = Your dream job

You swallowed hard, pulling up outside of the Chinese restaurant Mike had picked. You weren’t particularly prepared for the potential horrors waiting for you inside; you felt anxious as hell, being reunited with the people you’d called friends your entire childhood with barely any recollection of their names or virtually anything about them. As a matter of fact, you hardly remembered anything Mike had brought up during your brief phone call the night before about your childhood. You never had any reason to bring it up in conversation, or think about it for any other reason, so why would you remember? But then again, how could you forget? Isn’t that someone everyone does, forget? Especially when they grow up and move away? Apparently not.

You shook away the negative thoughts that swirled around your aching brain, and got out of your car as another car pulled into the parking lot. You paid no mind to the other car, too distracted by the restaurant looming overhead and what awaited you inside, when someone calling you from behind brought you back.

“(Y/N)?” You turned at the sound of your name being called by a distinctly deep, male voice, and were met with a man around your age squinting at you behind his glasses, seemingly confused. You stared for a second before it clicked; Richie “Trashmouth” Tozier stood before you, hands tucked sheepishly into his leather jacket, with his hair wild from running his fingers through it moments before.

“Oh my GOD! Richie!” You felt yourself running at him and attack him in a hug. He didn’t move at first, still slightly taken aback by having seen someone he hadn’t seen in 27 years look so painfully familiar but like a beautiful stranger. He moved to hug back but you’d already stepped back to get a better look at him.

“You look great, Trashmouth! What the hell!” You laughed and Richie’s awkwardness eased up as he smiled a bit.

“Look at you, you look gorgeous! What the fuck happened to me?” He glanced at his reflection in the glass of the window and shook his head a bit.

“Oh stop. When did you get in?” You asked, stuffing your own hands in your pockets, quickly becoming re-acquainted with the chilly air of Maine.

“Last night. You?”

“Earlier this afternoon. Have… have you seen anyone yet?”

“Nope. You?”

“Not yet. Wanna go in?”

“Not at all.”

“Alright, let’s do this.” You took your hands out of your pocket with a deep breath to calm your racing heart, and ripped the door open as Richie followed behind you.

The restaurant seemed nice and was brightly lit, which helped to relax you a little bit.

That might make it easier to recognize everyone.

The hostess led you and Rich to a private room aside from the main dining room, where 3 grown men near the fish tank, becoming readjusted to each other once again.

“Wow, take a look at these guys!” The shorter man in the red jacket said, attempting to relieve some of the tangible awkwardness.

You pressed your lips together as you made eye contact with the taller man, who seemed to be familiar in a different way than the others. His muscles contracted as he crossed his arms over his chest, his silver watch winking at you in the light. His blue eyes were bright, and full of hazy memory.

“Look at her TREMBLE girls! She’ll be a laughing stock by the end of the day!” Gretta Keene was cackling as you shook like a teapot, your back so far against the lockers that the locks were pressing into your back. You had no idea why Gretta was so terrifying, but she just was. There were no limits with her torment, and that certainly didn’t exclude you. She’d thrown wet trash on you, poured paint in your backpack in art class, and hid your clothes after gym class. She made you miserable at any opportunity, purely because she knew it bothered you; plus you were an easy target, you had no one to protect you. She had all the power. Especially since she found your sketchbook, filled with embarrassing drawings of one Bill Denbrough.

“Oh s-shut up, G-gretta.” The all-too-familiar lanky boy stepped out from behind Gretta, meekly followed by a few other boys you’d recognized from your classes through the years, who were always with Bill. Gretta whipped her ponytail around to look at who’d interrupted her fun, allowing you to sneak a bit closer to the boys.

“Aw would you look who it is, Stuttering Bill Denbrough! Coming to protect your little girlfriend, huh?” Bill’s blue eyes hardened, ignoring Gretta’s comment.

“Just leave her alone, she never did anything to you.” Bill crossed his arms over his chest.

“Oh yeah? Or what?”

“O-or I'll r-r-remind the w-wh-whole school a-about how R-Ri-Richie p-p-pulled up your skirt d-during the cl-class play i-in 4th grade.” Bill smirked as Gretta’s face turned a shade of pink.

Richie snickered as he adjusted his glasses, clearly still amused by the memory. Eddie glared at him and Richie shrugged.

“You win this round, Denbrough,” Gretta glared at him, clearly trying but failing to intimidate him. “Next time, Stuttering Bill won’t be around to save your ass, you little slut.” Gretta lunged at you and you slammed back into the lockers, trying to hide your wince after hitting a lock particularly hard.

She sashayed away as you recovered, rubbing the lower part of your back.

“Thank you.” You whispered to Bill, casting your eyes down. You were extremely shy, especially after Gretta’s torment had begun. You looked back up and Bill smiled kindly at you, extending his hand to help you up.

“I-I’m Bill D-D-Denbrough,” You shook his hand with a shy grin. “I-I know w-we’ve had c-cl-classes together f-for a few y-y-years, b-but I d-don’t thi-think we’ve e-ever spoken.”

“I’m (Y/N).” Bill nodded.

“I’m Richie!”

“Edward Kaspbrak, but you can call me Eddie.” “Call him Eddie Spaghetti, he LOVES that!”

“I told you to stop calling me that!”

“Alright Eds, have it your way.”

“I hate Eds too! It’s Eddie!”

“Calm yourself, Eduardo.”

“RICHIE!” Richie snickered again as Eddie crossed his arms, huffing in frustration.

“I”m Stanley, Stanley Uris.”

“Oh, yes! We have math together.” You smiled at the curly-haired boy. He sat behind you at math, always answering the teacher’s questions.

“Bill?” You whispered, frowning slightly. Bill broke out into a grin and approached you slowly, memories streaming back.

“(Y/N).” He said almost breathlessly, pulling you into a tight hug. Your knees almost buckled beneath you at his familiar scent and feeling of him holding you so close and so tight.

“I can’t believe it’s been so long, I just, I can’t believe it…” You trailed off, an eruption of memories causing your previous headache to return. You grimaced slightly, and shook it away, not allowing something so silly to ruin your evening.

“I know. It’s been what, 18 years? 17? Right after college, I believe, is when we last saw each other.” Bill took a step back, suddenly feeling like he was back in high school with the way his emotions were running so rampant.

“Something like that. How have you been?? What’s been going on? What do you do?” You became readjusted quickly, the other Loser’s looking on with a familiar feeling, as if they’d seen the same sort of interactions between the two of you. As a matter of fact, they had. When you were all much, much younger, and a lot more unable to speak your feelings.

You and Bill caught up very quickly as you awaited the other’s arrivals, one by one. You learned he followed his heart and became a writer, and you’d actually read a few of his books! Contrary to popular belief, you thought his endings were not that bad. He’d been married for a few years, but it never quite worked out, so they ended up divorcing on civil terms. He found out you hadn’t married; never quite finding the right person. Little did you know, the right one had been only a few hours away, subconsciously writing your personality into book characters. You’d become (Y/D/J), traveling the world like you’d always wanted to, and settling down in a place that was the complete opposite of Derry. Not that you’d remembered what it was like in Derry, but once you returned, you shuddered at how much the place had affected you.

You left the Chinese restaurant feeling a heavy weight on your shoulders, weighing down on you like never before. Between finding out about why Stanley hadn’t been at dinner, the fortune cookie massacre, and your feelings for Bill all coming rushing back at once, there was almost nothing keeping you from leaving. Almost.

“I-I’m gonna go w-w-with Mikey to the library, you o-okay to get back by yourself?” Bill asked, mentally cursing for allowing his stutter to rear its head.

“Yeah, I’ll be okay. I’m probably gonna go to bed and mull things over.” You rubbed your hand up and down his arm, watching as he untensed a little bit. Your touch was always enough to relax Bill, especially back in the days after the first battle.

You slept over his house pretty often, sneaking in and out of his window on the days you were afraid his parents would think you were spending too much time there. Half the time when you would wake up in the middle of the night by yourself, usually after a Gretta or Pennywise induced nightmare, and sneak over to Bill’s and climb into bed with him; your safe space. He would crack an eye open, smile, and open his arms to you. You climbed in and wiggled up next to him as he held you close, a smile gracing both of your faces.

“I’ll see you back there, then.” He smiled at you and his hand lingered on your shoulder for just a moment, before joining Mike in his car. You made it back to the motel without incident, and fell into a dreamless sleep.

The following morning, you woke up and found yourself shivering for the first time in years; and you knew it wasn’t because of any sort of draft. Along with the horrid memories that poisoned your childhood, the ones that remained untouched by the horrors you experienced also recurred. It was almost as if you were reverting to the person you were while living in Derry, complete with your need for Bill Denbrough to protect you.

“It’s only going to work if we split up,” Mike said, glancing at each Loser.

“No way, statistically speaking we’re much better off if we remain together as a group!” Eddie said, nervousness lacing his already edgy voice.

“W-we can’t. You w-won’t b-be able to find y-your tokens, it’s a sort o-of… personal journey. E-each of us h-has to par-partake.” Bill said, clapping a hand on Mike’s shoulder.

You shrugged and started climbing the ladder, squinting in the filtered light of the Barrens as you walked forward, feeling propelled by some unknown force. Just as Mike had advised, you all split up. You’d crossed paths with Bill a bit later in the day, who looked extraordinarily pale. Assuming he’d already grabbed his token by the look on his face, you just pulled him into a hug.

You pulled away with a smile, quickly realizing your mistake. A mangled sort of Gretta Bowie stood in front of you, hair matted and her typical blue eyeshadow was replaced by something red and gooey, assumably blood.

“Did you miss me, freak?” A voice that was only partially human seemed to be coming from Gretta, even though her mouth didn’t move.

You stood in frozen horror, mouth agape.

“I missed you, I thought you’d never come back to talk with me.” The creature that resembled your former tormenter remarked. “No one ever wants to talk with me.” The creature flipped its matted hair. “Look at you TREMBLE! The whole school is gonna know about your pathetic little crush on Bill Denbrough, the boy with the stutter. You know he never loved you, right? He thought you were a freak, like the rest of us. Just a quiet, little freak. He only pretended to like you, because he’s such a nice guy. Look at you now! All grown up and the same little crush on Big stuttering Bill Denbrough!” Gretta cackled in the most sickeningly familiar way, and you dropped to your knees in tears.

It’s not real.

It’s real.

You felt like you were going to throw up, all the anxiety and shame rushing back at you all at once.

Bill had crossed the street near his old neighborhood, still slightly unnerved by his encounter with Pennywise. Subconsciously, he had been hoping to run into you on the hunt for your token, looking for some sort of excuse to see you. He hated the idea of the whole group splitting up, despite the visions Mike had forced him to see the previous night. He knew it was the only way but the reality of the situation sat heavy like a rock in his stomach; he couldn’t stand the idea of losing another loved one to the goddamn clown that had been terrorizing him since he was just 13 years old.

An ear piercing scream rang out suddenly, breaking Bill from his thoughts. A very familiar scream.

“(Y/N)!” Bill whipped around wildly, looking for some sort of direction to go in. Another scream rang out and he followed the sound to Jackson Street, where he found you on your hands and knees, screaming unintelligible words. It was almost as if you were screaming at someone, not just something.

“(Y/N)!” He yelled again. You hadn’t heard him, and just kept on screaming your head off. Suddenly you stopped, and curled up in a ball, sobbing uncontrollably. You were clutching something to your chest that Bill couldn’t quite see as he tried to ease you into sitting up.

“H-hey, it’s okay. It’s me.” You looked up at him, your face completely tear stained with mascara running down your cheeks. Bill’s heart clenched a little bit.

“What h-h-happened?” You jumped into his arms, and began sobbing all over again. “Shhh, it’s o-over now. T-the clown c-c-can’t hurt you any-anymore.” He whispered into your hair, trying to get you to relax a little bit. Your heavy breathing eased as your breaths became more even, and you sat back on your heels.

“It was Gretta.” You said, your throat feeling raw from screaming. “She was telling me all these horrible things, and I-I just lost it.” You hugged the book tight to your chest.

“Well,” Bill’s eyes darted from the book to you. “At least you got your artifact.” He smiled his same old smile, making you feel a little bit warm inside. That smile could make anything seem a little bit brighter.

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skeletonscribbles · 6 years

Text

Wishes - Chapter 13

as promised - the penultimate chapter, as told from our least biased Loser, Ben Hanscom <3

Title: “Reflection” (Ben)

Warnings: not everyone is good at conflict resolution, disordered eating, Eddie is a dumbass about pop culture

Read on Ao3!

Tag List: @roobarrtrashmouth @jem-carstairs-is-perfection@tozier-club @aizeninlefox @stanheartsbill @imrichie @softeds@pretzelstoday @melancholypurple @wheezygreens@ayyyymichele @loser-marsh

Other: if you want my full opinion on the Losers’ Hogwarts houses, hit me up!

BEN HANSCOM IMAGINEER Currently in UNIVERSAL STUDIOS: ISLANDS OF ADVENTURE JUNE 15th 12 P.M.

Universal Studios didn’t make any fucking sense to Ben Hanscom.

He knew a lot of people liked it better than Disney, and that those people generally had valid reasons. They were right to say that there were more thrill rides at Universal. There were certainly more motion simulators - and good quality simulators, too. Ben was particularly fond of the Spiderman ride, to the point where it had been a major inspiration for some of the Star Wars projects he’d pitched over the course of the last year.

They were also right to point out that the Harry Potter sections of the park were well done. After the construction of Disney’s Animal Kingdom in 1998 and the subsequent fallout around how the company handled the opening of that park, a lot of Imagineers jumped ship to Universal, and their influence was obvious in the narrow, winding paths of Hogsmeade Village that Ben and his friends were currently meandering down. It was all true to the story of Harry Potter in a way that was impressively theme-park functional, right down to the frozen Butterbeer that Ben currently had clutched in his hand.

The rest of the park, though...well, to say he didn’t care for it would be an understatement. It was confusingly set up, and more importantly, it was, in his opinion, kind of lifeless. Disney worked so hard to make sure that every detail of every square inch of their parks were perfect - there were Rapunzel designs INSIDE of the toilets in Fantasyland, for goodness sakes - so to see so much bare concrete and thoughtless palm tree decor at Universal was a little disappointing.

He kind of wanted to share that observation with his friends to see if they agreed, but initiating conversation with them with proving to be...difficult.

The primary issue as far as that was concerned was that he was Bev-less. They were all supposed to be on this outing, and as of two days ago, they had all solidified their days off and had been set and ready to go...but then Bev had been late to work and gotten a point on her record, and none of them had wanted her to risk getting fired by taking a personal day after that.

He loved his friends, but it was easier to be in a group when you had a point person with whom to interact if things got cliquey, and Bev was definitely his point person.

Mike was usually his second choice of people to turn to when he was feeling socially awkward, but Mike had his own issues to focus on today. It was the first time since February that they had invited Bill to hang out with them as a full group (Ben, Bev, Richie and Eddie had spent time with him separately, but having him together with Mike and Stan was uncharted territory) and making sure that things remained tension-free was proving to be a little bit exhausting. The energy of the group wasn’t bad at the moment, per-se, but it was also obvious that there were a lot of things left to be discussed between Mike, Stan, and Bill, and none of them wanted to be the first to bring up anything difficult. As it was, they were trying their best to stick to neutral topics, which currently meant that they were deep into an assessment of which of them belonged in which Hogwarts house.

“I thought I was a Hufflepuff,” Eddie was saying, wrinkling his nose in confusion. He and Ben were the only ones without Harry Potter apparel on: Eddie was wearing a Spiderman baseball shirt, and Ben had chosen his trusty Dr. Strange tee, but it was obvious that of the two of them, Ben had more Harry Potter expertise. Eddie’s knowledge of the Potter series was like his knowledge of Star Wars, which was to say: spotty at best. “They’re the ones that are just kinda nice, right? Like, just kind of there? I don’t know as much as you guys. My mom wouldn’t let me read the books when I was younger, and I’ve only seen the movies on TV.”

Richie looked down at him thoughtfully, adjusting the arm that he had slung over Eddie’s shoulder. “I mean, you’re sweet and loyal and stuff, but I also think you’re pretty brave, Eds. You might just be a Gryffindor.”

Eddie still looked perturbed, so Ben helpfully volunteered, “That’s the one Harry Potter was in, Eddie.”

“Oh.” A pleased flush spread across Eddie’s cheeks. “That’s good, right? I don’t know. though...that sounds like more of a Bill thing than a me thing, I think. Harry Potter’s REALLY brave.”

Ben watched nervously as Stan and Mike looked quickly at one another, and then carefully over at Bill. Ben’s drink shook in his hand, and a little bit spilled on the ground, but it was probably for the best. It was starting to melt, anyway.

“I think that fits,” Mike said slowly. “Bill, what do you think? Gryffindor?”

Bill shrugged, but his smile betrayed an amount of relief. “Sure. That’s where Pottermore usually sorts me...that or Slytherin. I guess it thinks I’m polarizing.”

There was clearly more that Stan wanted to say on that point, but to everyone’s relief, he kept his mouth shut.

Eddie looked overwhelmed by all of the information he was receiving. “What’s Pottermore?”

“Harry Potter online...thing, I don’t know what the fuck it actually is,” Richie tried to explain. Ben almost wanted to cut him off and take over the explanation himself so as not to give Eddie a brain aneurysm, but Richie seemed pretty committed to saying his piece, so Ben backed off. “There’s a sorting quiz on there that the author of the books designed herself. It’s like...the Big Deal quiz.”

“Oh, okay.” Eddie tugged on Richie’s sleeve to pull him towards a shop that appeared to sell a variety of stuffed owls, and mechanically, the rest of them followed suit. “Where did it sort you?”

“Ravenclaw,” Richie said, beaming amusedly. “Fucking hilarious, I think.”

“That’s the smart house, Eddie,” Stan said before Eddie had the chance to ask, “and it is fucking hilarious, definitely, given that he hasn’t even had enough forethought to let me know that he’s moved out.”

Richie stopped dead in his tracks in front of the plexiglass shop window, and the rest of them congregated around him, shuffling wearily into a circle. They’d all known that eventually, someone was going to break and lead them into conversations that none of them really wanted to have, and the resignation on every single one of their faces was proof that each and every one of them had been quietly waiting for this moment since they’d piled into Ben’s car that morning.

Ben bit his bottom lip anxiously and tried to ignore the way his butterbeer was melting down the sides of the cup it came in. He shouldn’t have bought the damn drink. He knew he wasn’t going to be able to muster up the nerve to drink it. Liquid calories were so fucking difficult…

“I’m surprised, Stan,” Richie said, knocking Ben out of his spiral. “I thought you’d go after Bill first.”

Mike frowned and opened his mouth to begin telling Richie off, but Stan put a hand on Mike’s shoulder to quiet him and shook his head - once, twice, three times.

“That’s not fair, Richie,” Stan said, voice surprisingly neutral. “It doesn’t matter that you’re constantly balls-deep in emotional denial. You’re not the only person here, and some of us want to address the bad shit so we can move on.”

Richie scoffed. “You can’t accuse me of that stuff, Stan...not when you do the same thing. You know I could be really mean about this and bring up a bunch of examples, right?”

“Yeah, yeah. We’ve had this argument a thousand times, Rich, I know…’just because you don’t like it doesn’t mean you can treat it like it doesn’t exist’.” Stan ran an agitated hand through his hair. “But I don’t like that you’re never in the apartment anymore and I really can’t pretend that that’s not happening, so.”

Eddie spoke up next. His voice was timid. “I’m sorry about that, Stan. We would have been over more often, but I thought you might not like to have us in your space all the time…”

“I appreciate the apology, Eddie, but it’s not even really about the space,” Stan said, eyes locked on Richie. “I mean, Richie and I haven’t even been talking. I had to find out that he was thinking about quitting the company from Beverly. Quitting the company! That’s fucking huge! And I understand that we’re all friends here, but...but...I knew you first, Richie.” Stan crossed his arms, embarrassed. “I knew you first. Why didn’t you tell me?”

The silence after that was thick, to the point where even the crowds of tourists around them seemed inconsequential. Stan’s statement had obviously affected Richie, but the amount of panic apparent in the way Richie was wringing his hands was too great to have been brought about by Stan alone…

The realization that Richie hadn’t told Eddie about quitting the company either seemed to dawn upon all of them at once. With a sharp collective intake of breath, they all swung their heads towards Eddie, who looked like he was one angry word away from bursting into tears.

Ben tightened his grip on his Butterbeer, and some more of it splashed out and on to the ground. He couldn’t bring himself to care - no, he was far too busy trying to frantically brainstorm ways of de-escalating the situation in front of him. That was what he was good at; that was what he could bring to the table here - and he suspected it was also a pretty big part of why they’d insisted that he still come after Bev had backed out. They needed him for this exact moment.

If only he had any idea what the fuck he was doing.

“Richie…?” Eddie managed to ask softly, voice squeaky with the effort of not breaking. It was obvious that he was sending up a plea: please be lying, please be joking, please don’t tell me you’ve actually been keeping this huge thing from me .

Richie had his eyes screwed shut, and his face had paled significantly, which was a real feat considering how pale he was in the first place.

“Okay, I promise you, Eddie, I was going to tell you--”

“More excuses, Richie?” Ben was startled by the sudden anger in Eddie’s voice. It seemed that he was pushing aside his feelings of grief and helplessness in favor of lashing out. “More excuses?! You always have an excuse for not telling me stuff! You’re too busy? Too nervous? What the fuck, Richie! Why should any of that stuff get in the way? I’m your boyfriend! You should feel comfortable telling me anything! What the fuck is wrong with me, huh?”

Richie gaped. “Wrong with you ?”

“Something must be!” Eddie had wound himself into near hysterics already. Beside him, Ben felt Mike tense up, as if he were readying himself to leap into action, and Ben wondered crazily if Mike would actually pick Eddie up and carry him out somewhere if his current meltdown got any more intense. As it was, the people around them were starting to stare. “Something must be wrong with me, Richie, because you don’t trust me!’

“There you go, Richie,” Stan agreed. “That’s how you make people feel when you pull shit like this. I told you it wasn’t just me.”

Mike held up a finger. “Hold on, honey. You and Eddie aren’t dissimilar when it comes to expectations for communication. Maybe Richie--”

“I’m good, Mike, you don’t have to defend me on this,” Richie insisted.

“Then defend yourself!” Eddie screeched, fists clenched at your side. “Explain!”

The argument continued for five minutes, and then ten, and then it had been almost twenty minutes, and at that point Ben began to realize that the storm he was trying to weather was showing no signs of stopping. The massive, multi-faceted disaster that Stan had pushed them into had obviously been coming on for quite some time now, and as hurricanes went it was a Category 5.

Wordlessly, he stepped away from the circle to throw away his Butterbeer. It didn’t seem worth it (and he knew that was dangerous behavior, he KNEW it, but he was losing his mind and the Butterbeer wasn’t helping).

What could he do to help any of this, really? His friends were counting on him to mediate, but how the hell was a person supposed to mediate when all of them had agendas he didn’t understand and he couldn’t even keep himself together enough to have a sip of a goddamn Butterbeer?

“Guys--” he tried, not knowing where he was going with the sentence but throwing it out there anyways, “guys….”

They weren’t listening, and Ben almost couldn’t blame them. Mike was in the middle of trying to calm down a wheezing Eddie, and Richie was trying to both get to Eddie and fend off Stan at the same time. As for Bill…

...huh. Bill, who had been surprisingly silent through all the fighting, was making his way into the epicenter of the action. He came up behind Eddie and put a hand on his shoulder, and Eddie abruptly stopped crying out of surprise.

“B-Bill?” Eddie asked, voice cracked and hiccupy.

“Enough now, Eddie,” Bill said, tightening his grip a little bit on Eddie’s shoulder. A hush had fallen over the group, and Ben was surprised to see Bill roll his shoulders back as if filling in all the empty, silent space he’d been left.

Beverly’s voice lit in the back of Ben’s mind. It’s destiny, Ben. The seven of us. It’s fate.

He kind of wished Bev was here to see this. The Bill that she so often spoke of - the collected leader that Ben had wished would emerge earlier - was finally making an appearance, it seemed.

“Bill,” Eddie tried again, more coherently this time, but Bill wasn’t finished.

“Be careful what you wish for,” Bill said, turning slowly to look at each of them individually, “right?”

Nobody met Bill’s gaze. Instead, they all looked around at each other in confusion - no one was really sure what Bill was trying to say.

Stan’s impatience ultimately broke the silence. “Get to the point, Denbrough.”

“It’s been a weird couple of months for me,” Bill continued, nodding at Stan in acknowledgement. “I’ve had a lot of time to think about all of this - all of us.”

“Please don’t give us a ‘this is what you all should be doing right now ’ talk,” Mike said quietly, looking at the ground and the people passing by and really everywhere but at Bill. “We’re past that point.”

The Bill that Ben had known five months ago would have fired off a hasty response to Mike’s underhanded accusation, but Ben was impressed to see that Bill had apparently grown enough to rein himself in. He put his head down, processed, and then looked back at Mike neutrally.

“I’m not going to. You’re right. This isn’t about ‘should’ or ‘should have’, or anything in the past. It’s about figuring out what to do next.”

He looked down at the top of Eddie’s head, and tapped him lightly on the shoulder. Eddie turned around hesitantly, and shot Ben a quick, pleading look that Ben didn’t really understand before turning his eyes up to Bill.

“Why did you want to be with Richie in the first place, Eddie?” Bill asked, and Eddie inhaled sharply. Richie’s face began to contort up into a grimace - he was obviously bracing himself for the worst. In the background, a show was starting up on the small Hogsmeade stage, and the music from it was providing a peppy soundtrack to their otherwise somber conversation.

“Um,” Eddie said, and looked over at Richie’s legs. “Do we...do we really have to have a group therapy session while the Beauxbatons Girls are singing in the background…”

“We’re apparently incapable of doing any emotional work in private,” Bill said flatly, “so unless you want to go back to your argument--”

“He was nice,” Eddie said quickly. His breaths were coming fast and shallow, now, and his hand ghosted down to his pocket as if there was something there that could help him. “He takes care of people. He was funny. He made me feel special.”

Judging by the delighted surprise in Richie’s expression, that was not the answer that he had been expecting. He took a tentative step forward, and Eddie’s eyes snapped up to his face.

“And when you found out about how much of a disaster he can be sometimes,” Bill continued, “did any of that change how you felt about him? Were you just clinging on to the person you thought you wanted, or what?”

Stan’s eyes narrowed and he stepped up next to Richie with a tight frown plastered firmly on his face. He was ready to fight...and Bill should have seen that coming, Ben figured, given Stan’s penchant towards attacking anyone that was cruel to Richie. He was probably beating himself up on the inside for his earlier comments, too - that was how dedicated he was to that particular friendship.

Richie didn’t seem angry about Bill’s words, though. His eyes were locked on Eddie, and his concentration was unwavering. It felt like he was treating Eddie’s response like a jury verdict.

Eddie deflated a little bit under everyone’s gaze.

“No,” he finally said, “I like the disaster parts, too.”

Richie exhaled loudly in relief, and Bill nodded knowingly. “So you got what you wished for, avoidance tendencies and all.”

“I guess I did,” Eddie said softly. He still couldn’t bring himself to meet Richie’s gaze.

“And you,” Bill said, turning to Richie. “You wanted Eddie so bad. You thought he was going to make you happy again.”

“Bill, you’re referencing a private conversation--” Stan cut in angrily.

“If it helps, it helps, Stan,” Bill said, crossing his arms. “And none of us really have secrets from each other any more. Now. Richie - you stayed even though Eddie wasn’t a magic cure-all. Why?”

Richie responded almost too quickly, as if he’d been turning it around in his brain for so long that it was ready to pop out at a moment’s notice. “Because why would I want a cure-all when I could have the real Eddie Kaspbrak instead?”

That was enough to get Eddie to look up. As soon as they made eye contact, it felt like some kind of spell had broken - one of the corners of Richie’s mouth turned up, and Eddie clasped his hands sweetly in front of his stomach.

“So...why don’t you tell me things, then?” Eddie asked carefully. “Why secrets?”

This time, it was Richie who couldn’t make eye contact. He jerked his head off to the side, electing to stare at the side of Mike’s head instead of engage fully with the situation.

“I don’t want you to go,” Richie said in a low, private voice. “I’m scared you’ll, um….I’m scared you’ll leave if you find out that I’m doing outside stuff, you know, like...non-Disney stuff. I know that’s something you’re nervous about, and I….I can take care of myself, if you don’t want to be with me anymore. I don’t want you to worry about that. I just…”

Eddie stepped forward and reached up to slide his hands around Richie’s jaw. Slowly and deliberately, he brought Richie’s face around so that they were making eye contact again.

“Richie,” Eddie said, and Ben wasn’t sure if it was a question or an assurance.

“I like you so goddamn much, okay?” Richie mumbled, screwing up his face as the words left his mouth. “I just want to have as much time with you as I can.” He leaned back a little bit, just enough to gently ease himself out of Eddie’s grip. When he spoke again, it was loud, and addressed to everyone. “Fuck all of you for making me admit that out loud, by the way.”

Mike let out a relieved bark of a laugh, and Stan groaned, burying his face in his hands. Ben stared at Bill in wonder - by some miracle, he’d just cut the group tension in half, and all he’d done was ask a couple of bizarre questions.

Well, he’d mostly dissipated the tension, anyway. Richie apparently wasn’t finished.

“So,” Richie said, crossing his arms and looking down at Eddie. Ben could see his knuckles turning white from where his hands were gripping his arms, and felt a pang of sadness for his friend - this was obviously not easy for him. “Do you want….are you going to break up with me?”

Eddie’s expression shifted rapidly from confusion to horror to embarrassment, and as such it took him a moment to respond. The extra couple of seconds of silence were obviously agonizing for Richie, who was rocking back and forth on his heels with a sort of possessed intensity.

“Of course I’m not going to break up with you, dumbass,” Eddie finally managed to choke out. “I can’t believe… .no. It scares me that you might not be at Disney, I won’t lie about that, but I’m not…. Richie.”

Richie unclenched his hands from around his arms as Eddie reached up, and they found each other somewhere in the middle. Eddie grabbed his collar and pulled him down, and Richie slid his hands over and on to Eddie’s upper arms.

“Oh,” Richie said, staring down at Eddie in disbelief and wonder. “Oh.”

“Just kiss and make up already if you’re not breaking up,” Stan interjected, raising a hand to hs face in an effort to pretend he wasn’t smiling, “for fuck’s sake, you idiots.”

Eddie looked seriously back at Richie.”You had turkey leg for lunch, right?”

“Yes,” Richie said blankly.

“Then we save the kiss for later.” Eddie stepped back, smiling wanly up at Richie and then around at his friends. “When your mouth’s not gross.”

Richie blinked, nodded, smiled, and then began to laugh - stiltedly at first, and then sort of normally, and then somehow, he was in hysterics. The fact that Eddie wasn’t actually leaving seemed to be belatedly catching up to him. “That’s...oh my God, that’s….oh, fuck, Eds, I’m...you….come here!”

Before Eddie could protest, Richie had swooped him up in his arms and was kissing him soundly. A couple of passerby cheered, and Richie held up a peace sign to them without ever detaching himself from Eddie’s mouth.

Eddie pushed away, spluttering, but he was smiling in spite of himself. “Okay, okay, jeez. We’re good now, right? Thanks, Bill.”

Bill smiled and shoved his hands in the pockets of his jean shorts. “It was all you, Eddie.”

Richie made to say something in response to that, but was stopped by a hand on his shoulder. Stan had been tapping his foot restlessly behind Richie and Eddie for the past minute or so, and now it looked like he’d finally pieced together what he wanted to say.

“I’m sorry too, Richie,” he said, making sure to hold eye contact with him so as to properly convey his sincerity. (Stan was very good at eye contact, Ben had realized - to the point where it was sometimes unnerving.) “I was jealous and stressed out, and I was wrong to call you out like I did. It’s okay that you’re moving out, and um. In fact. I’d, uh...I’d like to talk to you about maybe making that official? I’m not kicking you out, I just--”

Mike came up behind Stan to smile sheepishly at Richie from over Stan’s shoulder. “I was thinking that maybe I could move in instead, if you’re not going to be at home? I mean, if you and Eddie...I don’t know what the deal is, really--”

Richie shrugged exaggeratedly and looked over at Eddie, who rolled his eyes.

“You live with me, Richie. You haven’t been back to your other place in months. Might as well get your name on some of my paperwork so you can start pulling your weight in this relationship.”

Richie let out a short laugh and clapped Stan on the shoulder. “All right then, Stan my Man, apparently I live with Eddie now. I’m sorry, too, though. I miss you, mi amor .” He leaned in next to Stan’s ear to whisper the last part, and Stan beamed at him as he shoved him backwards into the nearest trash can.

Ben noticed with a jolt that Mike’s eyes were on him. He stared back, wondering what on Earth Mike was staring for...until he realized that Mike’s moving out meant that he would be alone.

‘You okay?’ Mike mouthed, and Ben found that he didn’t really know the answer to that question.

He knew what it was like to be alone. He’d done it before...but after all of this, after having these wonderful friends for the better part of the last year - could he do it again?

Before he was finished processing, though, Stan was speaking again. “And I think...I think I’ve been wrong about a couple of different things, lately.”

Ben knew that Stan was going to turn towards Bill after saying that - they all knew it, really, but Bill still seemed taken aback. He stared openly at Stan, half-curious and half-afraid, and did not respond.

A rare burst of confidence lit in Ben’s chest. When everyone had been screaming about their own issues, it had been too overwhelming for him to untangle, but now that there was one specific problem to solve, Ben knew that he was the man to do it - especially now that Bill had a personal stake in what was going on. They needed an outside party.

(It was damn nice to feel needed - and that was part of the problem, part of what he was going to have to talk to Mike about later, but now it was time to focus.)

“You guys,” Ben said, and everyone turned towards him in surprise.

“Jesus, Haystack,” Richie said slowly, “you were so busy minding your own business over there, I almost forgot you were suffering through this with us.”

“Beep beep for a minute, Richie,” Ben said kindly, “this isn’t about you.”

Eddie cackled at that, and Richie sighed, pushing a hand back through his hair. “If you weren’t so damn nice…”

Ben ignored that in favor of turning back towards Stan, Mike, and Bill. “Guys, this is a ‘ be careful what you wish for’ kind of thing too. I think.”

Stan nodded, seemingly relieved to have a direction for the conversation to follow that wasn’t just him having to apologize to Bill. “I mean, sure. I entered this relationship back in the fall hoping that it would be one in which both of you understood me perfectly, and when you didn’t, Bill--”

“Oh.” Bill looked contemplative. “Huh.”

Stan nodded. “Richie and Eddie had a kind of desperate desire to be together - no offense, nerds, but you did - and I...didn’t have that kind of need, I think.”

“Me either,” Mike agreed. “I wanted the same thing, Stan. And some friends, but that was a whole separate deal.”

“Did you have a desperate desire for me, Rich?” Ben heard Eddie murmur teasingly over to Richie.

“Yes,” Richie replied promptly, and Eddie squeaked a little at the non-joke response, which he had obviously not been anticipating.

Bill flinched a little bit at Eddie’s squeak, but then registered it for what it was and rolled his eyes. It took him another moment to re-formulate his sentence. Eddie had knocked him out of his thoughts pretty soundly.

“I...I just wanted to be in love, I think. I was falling in love left and right in the fall.”

“And we were the ones that stuck, huh?” Mike asked, and although it was something of a biting question, Mike’s intention was clearly not to be mean. Bill knew that, and he smiled quietly, shrugging his shoulders.

“I guess you did. And it was good for a while...really fucking good, wasn’t it?” he asked wistfully.

“It was good.” To everyone’s surprise, Stan was the one who stepped forward and agreed. “Until it wasn’t.”

Bill sighed. “Until the two of you realized that I’m a whole dumbass.”

Mike winced at Bill’s wording. “Getting what you want is complicated.”

“And it helps to not jump right in,” offered Stan. “I think, actually, that if we’d taken things a little bit slower, like Richie and Eddie, that we might have been able to resolve our issues more neatly. Not that I’m saying that Richie and Eddie did everything or really anything right, but.”

Bill raised an eyebrow at Stan, and Stan flushed a little bit, jamming his hands in his pockets and scowling. Richie and Eddie, for their part, were whispering to one another, and seemed to have missed Stan’s dig at them entirely.

“So you’d take me back?” Bill asked pointedly, and everyone went silent again.

Well, no. Everyone went silent except for Richie, who had just started listening again, and felt the need to contribute by letting out a long, dramatic gasp. For once, though, Richie’s humor actually diffused the situation instead of making it worse - everyone groaned, and the question immediately felt less heavy than it actually was. Eddie clapped a hand exasperatedly over his boyfriend’s mouth, and Mike made to speak.

“Wasn’t it you that told us to be careful what we wish for?” Mike asked, voice strained, and Bill threw his head back and laughed.

“Yeah, yeah. No, I’m kidding. Probably not smart to try again right now. I still like you both as people, but.” Bill’s smile was sheepish as he said his next piece. “You guys are too mean to me.”

You could practically hear the collective eye roll that Bill’s statement garnered..

“Just because we don’t like being bossed around--” Stan started hotly, but Mike nudged him gently and he lost track of his rant.

“Anyway,” Bill said softly, smiling as he looked between Mike and Stan. “Maybe in a couple of years, we’ll see, or maybe not. We’ll get there. I just wanna make sure we stay friends.”

That was exactly the right thing to say. Stan and Mike looked at one another and then back at Bill, obviously impressed with how collected he’d become, and Ben found himself approaching Bill gratefully.

“Agreed,” he said, holding out a hand for Bill to shake. “We probably should have thought about that before we all jumped into crazy relationships, huh?”

Bill took his hand and tugged on it, pulling him into a full embrace. “So says the man whose relationship has literally never been a source of drama for the group. Ben, you’re astonishing.”

Ben hugged him back awkwardly - he’d never been good at hugs, he’d had very little practice, and so he found himself trying to convey sentiment through stilted back-pats. “I mean, you dated Beverly, too.”

Eddie’s jaw dropped as Bill and Ben pulled away from their embrace. He looked incredulously at Bill. “I thought you were gay!”

The group erupted in laughter, and Eddie’s ears turned red.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, nothing,” Bill assured him through wheezy giggles, at the same time that Richie crowed, “Hands on your head, Denbrough! It’s Eddie Kaspbrak from the gay police, here to remind you that no gay diet means no gay powers---”

Stan elbowed Richie in the stomach. “Enough, Wallace Wells.”

With a start, Ben noticed that the crowds around them were dwindling. It was starting to get late - they’d really lost track of time.

“Should we be moving?” Ben asked, wondering what on earth the Universal Team Members in the area had been thinking about their little drama circle for the past however many hours. “This is weird, right, that we’ve been standing here this long?”

Murmurs of assent rose around the circle. “Weird that no one’s told us off,” Mike said, frowning at the storefront they’d parked themselves in front of. “Richie’s said ‘fuck’ really loudly quite a few times during this conversation.”

“Me?” Richie gestured wildly towards everyone else in their little circle. “Eddie almost cried...and he outed Bill to all of Universal Studios! That’s not good Hufflepuff behavior.”

“You thought I was breaking up with you!” Eddie retorted, tugging at the front of Richie’s ‘Mischief Managed’ t-shirt. “That’s not good Smart House behavior! Is there a dumb house?”

“Yes,” Stan said neatly. “It’s called your apartment, Eddie.”

Mike put a hand over his face to mask his amusement at Eddie’s responding squawk. “Okay, guys, seriously. Do we need anything else here? Eddie, did you want to buy a stuffed animal?”

Eddie gazed wistfully into the store window. “Oh. I...no.”

Ben made a mental note to remind Richie to buy Eddie a stuffed owl for his birthday.

“If nobody wants anything else, we should go,” Stan agreed, tugging at one of his curls. “We’ve already done Forbidden Journey...there’s nothing else here, right? And we’re not doing the Hogwarts Express because fuck the Universal Studios side?”

“Fuck the Universal Studios side,” they all chorused, grinning.

“I don’t want to do Kong again,” Ben said meekly, “if that’s okay.”

“Same,” Richie and Eddie said loudly, glancing at one another in terror. They’d done Kong first because it was a new ride and they had wanted to beat the inevitable mid-day line, and the experience had been nothing short of a mess. It had been fifteen terrible minutes of dinosaurs, giant bugs, and a huge, horrible Kong animatronic in graphic 3D, and it had taken Eddie a full forty-five minutes to calm down afterwards, mostly because Richie was also panicking.

“What about Jurassic Park?” Mike suggested. Eddie looked a little conflicted about that, but after a quick moment, he nodded.

“If I’m gonna die, I might as well be thinking about Chris Pratt when I go,” he sighed.

Richie squinted at him. “Chris Pratt, huh?”

“You guys go ahead,” Bill said, turning to face Ben. Ben felt suddenly nervous, as if Bill had put him under a spotlight or a magnifying glass, and tried to keep his face from contorting stupidly. “I want to buy Ben a new Butterbeer real quick. He didn’t end up drinking any of his last one because we were being dumb.”

Everyone’s face fell. One by one, their eyes flickered over to him, and Ben could tell that the regret they were projecting was sincere.

God, it was amazing to have friends.

“We’re sorry, Ben,” they mumbled disjointedly, and Ben couldn’t help but smile.

“I love you guys,” he said earnestly. “I don’t care about Butterbeer. I just want to help.”

Richie promptly bounded forwards and wrapped Ben up in a terrible, bony embrace. “You’re the best of us, kid. We love you.”

“We love you,” Eddie echoed, scampering after Richie to attach himself to the parts of Ben that Richie hadn’t already wrapped himself around. Mike and Stan followed suit, and finally, Bill completed the circle, fitting in neatly between Mike and Richie.

It felt like home.

Almost.

“I wish Bev were here,” he said before he could stop himself, and the hug promptly evaporated; they fell off of each other, laughing agreeably.

“If Bev were here, all of this would have been solved three hours ago,” Mike pointed out.

“Cheers to that,” Richie agreed. “It’s okay, though, Haystack, we’ll have her soon enough. Go get your Butterbeer.”

“Bill really doesn’t have to,” Ben said, suddenly over-cognizant of the fact that he’d thrown away his Butterbeer from before because he was afraid, not because of their conversation.

Bill looked at him knowingly. “Bill wants to. Save us a place in line, Rich.”

“Roger roger,” Richie said in his best Star Wars Droid voice, saluting and then turning towards the bridge to the dinosaur section of the park. “Tally ho, Edward! Chris Pratt awaits.”

“You’re jealous, so you break out the British Guy?” Eddie asked, nose wrinkling in distaste. “Really?”

“You know, Ben kind of looks like Chris Pratt from some angles,” Stan offered dryly, pushing past the two of them to lead the way to Jurassic Park, and they followed noisily. Bill, Ben, and Mike watched them go until the last of Richie’s “That’s not funny, you dickless fuck!” s faded into the din of the dwindling crowd.

“I wanted to talk to Ben, too,” Mike finally said before either Bill or Ben could ask him why he stayed. “Okay if I crash?”

Bill shrugged amiably. “Fine by me.”

“Yeah,” Ben agreed, eyeing the Butterbeer cart warily. “But Bill, you really don’t--”

“Bev wants me to make sure that you’re eating,” Bill explained, shuffling his feet. “She worries. And also, um. I worry.”

“We all worry,” Mike confirmed, looking at Ben seriously.

Ben felt a mix of exasperation and warmth overtake him. He didn’t need to be watched over like a child...but then, what were friends for if they didn’t care about stuff like this?

Would he ever be used to having friends?

“Fine,” Ben conceded, moving to get in line. “I’ll try.”

“You can do it, Ben,” Mike said reassuringly, and Bill nodded along. “We’ll be right here.”

That was a cheesy way of framing their support, but Ben found himself grateful for it nonetheless.

“Thank you,” he said, looking readily at Mike. “Thanks. Is that what you wanted to talk to me about, too?”

“Oh, no, actually.” Mike joined him in line, squeezing in front of the two girls that had gotten in line immediately after Ben and garnering incredibly hostile looks from both of them. “I wanted to apologize for not letting you know before now that I was thinking about moving in with Stan. I’ve been trying to bring it up with you for awhile, but I never figured out how to do it. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to blindside you.”

Ben almost laughed. He’d just about forgotten that piece of the conversation - it felt like so much had happened since then.

“It’s okay, Mike,” he said, clapping Mike on the shoulder. “I think it’s good that you and Stan get some space. Don’t worry about me.”

“We do worry about you, though,” Bill chimed in, sliding next to Mike and earning more angry, muttered curses from the girls behind them. “We want you to be happy and well.”

“I’ve managed alone before,” Ben pointed out, crossing his arms defensively over his chest. “I’m still alive, aren’t I?”

“We don’t want you to be alone if you don’t have to be alone, though,” Mike explained, and Bill made a small noise of agreement. Ben looked between the two of them in vague amusement - it was nice and also kind of funny to see them getting along again.

“I have an idea about that, actually,” Bill said, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

Ben had a feeling he knew where Bill was going with this, and he shoved his hands in his pockets resignedly. He’d thought of this himself, of course...hell, he’d thought about it a million times, but…

“Haven’t we already gone over ‘be careful what you wish for’?” Ben asked sadly, smiling a small, appreciative smile back at Bill. “Who knows what would happen if I asked Bev to move in with me?”

Mike stared at him in disbelief. “Well, for starters, she might say yes and be really happy about it...so you have that to consider.”

“We’ve only just started having sex,” Ben protested, flushing red, “we’re hardly ready to be roommates.”

“And they were roommates,” Mike muttered, and then winced as Bill let out a loud cackle.

“Oh, Stan has really wormed his way into your brain, hasn’t he,” Bill said fondly.

“He definitely has,” Mike agreed, and Ben couldn’t help but smile at the pride in Mike’s eyes.

“But anyways,” Bill continued, “what does that have to do with anything? You and Bev are together practically all the time anyways. This would be a good way to see if being official with that changes anything.”

Ben felt a little lost, and wanted to say so, but didn’t know how to phrase it. Instead, he asked, “Why would I want to see if living with her changes anything? I don’t want anything to change. Things are really good right now.”

Mike sighed, but his eyes were fond. “You do want things to change, Ben. I think so, anyway. You’ve been window shopping in a lot of jewelry stores lately.”

Ben could absolutely not deny that Mike was right about that. He’d spent what had to be hours staring at rings in glass cases at the Mall at Millenia, wondering if he’d ever be able to work up the nerve to buy one (because just like Bev knew that their little group of seven was destined, so Ben knew that he was never going to love another human being the way he loved Beverly Marsh).

When Mike put it that way, it did make sense to move in with Bev as a sort of trial run.

“How should I ask her?” he asked quietly, and Bill let out a short whoop of excitement.

Unfortunately, the question had to be put on pause - they’d reached the front of the Butterbeer line, and Bill was looking at him expectantly.

“What’ll it be?” the Team Member serving drinks at the cart asked wearily.

“One frozen Butterbeer, please,” Ben said meekly, and the Team Member set off to making it. Beside Ben, Bill began fishing around in his pockets for his wallet, and was fortunately able to procure it by the time the girl was back with Ben’s drink. He paid and handed Ben the drink, and Ben took it with shaky hands.

He could do this.

“Do you want something elaborate, or something bare-bones?” Bill asked as soon as they were away from the cart and en route to Jurassic Park. “For a move-in proposal, that is.”

“He needs a proposal?” Mike asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow at Bill. “Can’t they just have a conversation?”

“That would be bare-bones,” Bill said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Ben stared at his Butterbeer, and then looked back out towards the dinosaur theming area they were moving into. The “jungle” aesthetic they were going for was undercut by concrete walls and steel vending carts, and Ben found himself longing for Disney.

In that moment, he realized he had an answer for Bill.

(He could do this.)

“Let’s say I wanted to go elaborate,” Ben said, smiling softly to himself. “What would I have to do to impress Bev into agreeing to live with me?”

Bill’s face lit up, and Mike’s eyes widened in surprise.

“I have a couple of thoughts,” Bill said excitedly, tapping Ben’s arm erratically. “I’ll tell them to you in line, and you can tell me what you think, yeah?”

Ben thought of the way Bev had lit up on their first date when the fireworks had started - the starry look on her beautiful face as she’d registered exactly how much attention to detail Ben had paid, and the way she’d grabbed for his hand afterwards, as if trying to thank him through her fingertips.

He took a careful sip of his Butterbeer.

“I’d like that very much.”

He could do this...and damn it if it wasn’t going to be perfect when he did.

#ben hanscom #reddie #reddie fanfic #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #stanlon #stanley uris #mike hanlon #bill denbrough #benverly #it 2017 #it 2019 #stephen king's it #it fanfic #wishes #disney au #this chapter is like...full degrassi #bill stans rejoice #fun fact i hate universal studios butterbeer i am probably the only person on earth that does but i HATE it

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theonceoverthinker · 6 years

Text

OUAT 1X18 - The Stable Boy

I’m very interested to see my reaction to this episode this time! On my first watch, I didn’t like it (At least the past portion), but with time and more insight into Regina’s character, that just might change!

It’s not because of you, Reggie! i love you!

But what was my deal then, and how has it changed?

Find out alongside me under the cut!

Press Release Emma continues her exhaustive search for evidence that will prove Mary Margaret’s innocence in the murder of David’s wife, Kathryn. Meanwhile, in the fairytale land that was and before evil blackened her soul, Regina must choose between betraying her mother, Cora, and marrying for true love, or betrothing royalty and living a regal - but loveless - life; and the event that caused the Evil Queen to loathe Snow White is revealed. General Thoughts Past It’s weird. I know Cora is an amazing villain, and it may be the fault of time, but I sometimes forget just how menacing and evil she was. So seeing the evil she’s capable of show itself again with such intensity was like when you touch someone else after getting a good dose of static shock going through you. Just as with Regina’s villainy up to this point, Cora’s is overt and strong. Even when she’s praising Regina, it’s a backhanded compliment (“You’ve finally done something right”). But oddly enough, it’s when the abuse is less over the top that it’s at its worst, and by that, I mean accepting Leopold’s proposal on Regina’s behalf and getting Snow to divulge Regina’s secret. How Cora’s lunges at insecurities and just makes the bold yet quiet moves to get everyone to do what she wants is terrifying. I don’t have a lot to weigh in on the plot, but I do think that watching it on the second go did a lot more for me to highlight Cora’s abuse and make me realize the quality of the flashback. See, for me, I always felt that Daniel was the main thing for Regina’s revenge about Snow, and I felt on the first go that that was a pretty lackluster approach for such a cool villain because I found Daniel boring (I still do, and I swear that I tried to like him). However, it’s occurred to me recently that this isn’t so much as the main point, but the final straw after a long line of Cora’s abuse. Cora’s abuse is what drives Regina’s character and with this in mind, I went into my rewatch of this episode and found it much more compelling. I mean, all you have to do is look about to see the impact Cora had on me.

Also, as I said before, I don’t like Daniel. I find his character boring and bereft of chemistry with all who he interacted with despite his decent dialogue. Given that a lot of (Not fully, but still a fair amount) Regina’s backstory is dependent on their interactions, it sucks, but I just wasn’t feeling like there was much of a character to connect to.

Finally, I wanted to take this moment to drop a theory I’ve held for a while about this episode. I feel that Regina has a secondary purpose for going after Snow. Now, of course, she blames Snow for Daniel’s death, but that’s lead her to be mislabeled as overly petty. However, I think that that blame has something behind it. Regina doesn’t have magic at this point, and her beloved was taken from her. She has a lot of anger, and no place to responsibly place it. Of course, it belongs with Cora, but Cora just killed her boyfriend and has been magically binding her for quite some time. What chance does Regina have up against someone like that? But Snow? Snow’s just a little kid. Snow’s vulnerable and trusting. Snow was the one to tell the secret. And suddenly, for as wretched as it is, you see how the cogs turn. Present I loved August’s advice to Emma here. Sometimes, I find that skill helpful when I’m writing fanfiction, and the way it fits into the murder mystery was interesting. Their rapport, alongside August’s mystery is a large driving force behind the plot as Emma looks for the way to connect the crime to Regina. They also did a really good job establishing Sidney and then exposing him with that flower pot. For a while, one can forget that it’s there, but once you see it, you know what’s going to happen. Still, the journey to using the plot device was an engaging one. As for the rest of the plot, I cover more of it in “Arcs,” but I found that it was well placed and dramatic. Mary Margaret’s conversation with the DA was especially helpful in reinforcing after last week’s “breather” episode just how bad things are and how important it is that Emma solves this case and fast. Insights -I love watching Rumple and Regina negotiate. Theirs is such an engaging push-and-pull relationship and even in the case of foregone conclusions like the one the audience goes in knowing here, the exact what and how are never what you expect it to be. Because of their power, influence, and shadier dispositions, there’s always something up their sleeves and seeing them poke and prod in search of those secrets is just the best. Also, I love that clash of tones. Regina’s harsh words clash brilliantly with Rumple’s more flowery language. -Hair and makeup really did a wonderful job on the younger Henry Sr.! -”She’s getting a little old for fun.” “Stop coddling her.” I like the implication that Cora’s abuse of Regina started out smaller than it is today and that Henry Sr. was allowed to have a bigger influence on Regina’s development during her childhood. -”I’m not criticising you. I’m helping you.” Holy shit. That is such an abuser line. If it wasn’t coming out of Cora, I’d almost call it heavy handed, but since it s Cora, it’s such a good moment of character establishment. -There’s this great frame where Henry Sr. is walking towards Cora with a face that screams “I’mma kill you if you harm a hair on our daughter!” Even though Henry Sr. was definitely afraid of and overpowered by Cora, it’s clear that he was always on Regina’s side. -The segues on this show between the past and present crack me the fuck up! -In regards to young Snow...HOW DOES THIS SHOW CAST PEOPLE SO PERFECTLY?! -Thank you, Gold for acknowledging the skeleton key! -Gold just has the best expressions during the Q&A with the DA. Every look he gives MM just says “you’re lucky your daughter is breaking this curse.” -Mary Margaret, that’s not true. After Kathryn hurt you, it was your denial of David that kept you two apart. Not saying you were wrong for that you definitely weren’t - but facts are facts. -Regina looks so cute in that blue dress! I’m pretty sure anyone on OUaT can pull off a blue dress! -I love how Henry Sr. reflects both Regina and the audience’s reaction to this horrifying proposal. -So is Daniel just the Mills’ family’s stable boy or both theirs and Snow’s family’s stable boy? -Regina unknowingly gave Snow and Charming the perfect lyrics to their big show-stopping musical number about how they’d overthrow her! XD -I love Regina’s suit in the warrant scene. Red and black - despite her rocking blue as well - are totally her colors! -That whole sequence of Cora trapping Regina and Daniel in the stable reminded me of The Haunted Mansion! -Snow looks so cute in her flower girl dress! -So, the camera doesn’t show Regina’s face as she’s telling Snow how Daniel ran away, but you can just hear the pain behind the monotone in her voice solely because of how different it is from the rest of her lines. Regina’s lines usually host such passion and ferocity, but here, she’s bereft of it. Arcs Kathryn Nolan Case - So, we sort of come to an ending here. Now all that’s left to find out is the “who-dunnit,” so to speak. Personally, I found the case itself boring as well as the conversations about the proceedings. That said, in a way, I’m glad we had it. I’ve seen fics without it happening and they leave David and Mary Margaret with so little to do. Besides, we got some really good character moments because of it, mostly those that go through Emma and I feel comfortable saying that this doesn’t have to do with the fact that Emma is my favorite character because for everyone else (Barring Rumple and Regina who also had amazing interactions), the events of this arc for everyone else become completely irrelevant going forward. Emma and her interactions (Barring those of the other awake people’s) are the only moments that retain prevalence for their characters in the future That’s not a problem: The character moments still stand out - I still adore everything with Ruby and the scene with MM and David in the jail cell was powerful - but it needs to be accounted for. The Mystery of August Booth - We finally get those first glimpses of Pinocchio. It reminded me a lot of Michael’s symptoms in Season 3 of Jane the Virgin. They’re so small that you forget about them with the plot, but as they happen, they make you wonder just what it is. Why throw in a splint? ...I guess we should say a splinter! XD Favorite Dynamic Snow and Cora. I know these two only had one scene together, but damn, it was a good one! When Cora talks to Snow, she’s so warm and very much like a grandmother in the way she speaks, and you can see through Snow’s expressions just how much that paired with what she’s saying is preying on her still present grief over her mother. It’s like that study about the bullfrogs when the water gradually increases. Snow’s about to hurt her friend, and she doesn’t even recognize that she’s being played because of Cora’s delicate manner of approaching things. Writer Adam and Eddy did a really great job here! They have a way of writing very iconic lines, and “Love is the most powerful magic of all” has proved itself lasting - both in verbal and song form! XD In addition, A&E know how to make a villain sympathetic while not forgetting that they’re evil and following through on that. I’ve seen a lot of bad writing of villains (And some of it comes from OUaT too) where they just throw a sob story on a villain and then just flip a switch from villain to hero, but Regina still retains her villainy even as we’re learning about her tragedies, and that makes her feel more alive! Rating 9/10. I love all of the character development we get here. The introduction of Cora gives us that taste of all that’s to come and she’s fucking petrifying, even with the knowledge that she dies! And seeing Regina’s awful childhood really sticks where this resentment of Snow and Mary Margaret is coming from and it makes it glorious! Additionally, the present had a great story too and delivered a cool sort-of ending to the Kathryn Nolan case while giving Emma and August an interesting conflict to work with. I took off a point for Daniel just because of his impact on the story that I actually got compared to what I felt that I needed. ()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

Thanks to @watchingfairytales for putting this project together and to everyone who read! I’ll see you next time when we...RETURN! ...These puns don’t get all that subtle. Season Tally (157/220) Writer Tally for Season 1: A&E (50/70) Liz Tigelaar (17/20)* David Goodman (33/50) Jane Espenson (36/60) Andrew Chambliss and Ian Goldberg (29/40) Daniel Thomsen (8/10)* Vladimir Kvetko (9/10* (* = Their work for the season is complete)

Operation Rewatch Archives

#ouat #once upon a time #watching fairyt #ouat 1x17 #ouat rewatch #jenna watches ouat #aniti-daniel #basically every character in this episode is discussed

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mikeshanlon · 6 years

Text

he’s all that: chapter two

fandom: it

pairing: reddie (richie tozier/eddie kaspbrak)

word count: 5k

one | on ao3

summary:

Richie smiled smugly, “You’ve got spunk Kaspbrak. I like that.”

“Why don’t you try shutting the fuck up Tozier,” Eddie retorted as the line moved forward, “So what is this, if not some ploy to get me to tutor you? Some sort of dork outreach program? Because I’m not interested.”

—

Or: The one where Richie Tozier has six weeks to get into a relationship and make someone fall for him. Only problem? That someone is the anxiety ridden, goody two shoes Eddie Kaspbrak, and he can’t even stand to be in the same room as Richie.

warnings: there is drug use in that bev/mike/richie are HUGE stoners. also this chapter there is mentions to maggie being an alcoholic.

a/n: hey! decided to post two weeks in a row just to get the ball rolling (which is why i still dont have all the chapters figured out as promised, my apologies). i'll probably start the every other week thing for next update (so chapter three should be up by march 4th). i would try to do every week but im a college student who has Stuff to do and also makes gifs and im horrible at finishing my writing so, giving myself a realistic deadline that will still hopefully produce quality work. anyways, richie and eddie finally interact this chapter! it's....................... a bit messy though. and we get to see the rest of the losers club in this one too.

tag list: @richietoaster, @wintersember, @howellhxlic, @ed-txzier, @clara-farl3y

After standing in the hallway arguing with Bev for ten minutes, (“I mean really Bevs, fuck!” “You said anyone.” “How do we even know he’s gay?!” “Richie, please.”) Richie resigned himself to the fact that he was going to find some way to charm Eddie. Maybe Beverly would let him borrow that spellbook she bought junior year when she had become obsessed with witchcraft and hexing the patriarchy.

Once school was finally over, Richie dropped off Mike at his farm per usual, ranting about the bet the whole ride over. The farm boy nodded along, but he knew the words ‘told you so’ sat on the tip of his tongue.

They pulled up to his house, the engine idling so he wouldn’t have to spend time getting it to start again, “Don’t wait up for me tonight if you wanna smoke. Got lotsa research in store,” Richie said as Mike grabbed his backpack and got out of the car.

Mike raised a brow, leaning into the passenger window (which in its broken state always stayed down), “I’m surprised Rich. You never do your homework.”

“Homework shmomwork,” he tapped the end of his cigarette out the window before taking another drag, “Gotta figure out what little ol’ Edward likes. Time for some deep dark internet exploration.”

“Ah, you’re gonna stalk him. Wasting time on social media does sound much more in character,” Mike smiled.

“It’s not a waste Mikey darlin’, a shit ton of preemo dank is on the line.”

The other boy laughed and shook his head, “Godspeed Tozier.”

Richie saluted Mike as he reversed out back to the main road, Bigmouth Strikes Again blasting on the old car radio.

He weaved through the streets filled with kids walking home or trying to find something to do in this shit-hole town. Long afternoons spent at The Aladdin watching the newest releases or aggressively slamming his fingers down on his favorite game at the arcade came to mind; along with going out of his way to bother just about everyone in his path. Richie never really had many friends when he was younger, spending most of his time alone. He was grateful he crossed paths with Bev and Mike, to fate, luck, God if it existed. The universe was rarely kind to him, but finding them was the best thing that ever happened to him.

Plus, the first time he had smoked weed, but that was with them too.

Turning onto his street, Richie pulled up to the unsuspecting two-story white house. It was straight out of a handbook on the American Dream; but the closer one looked, the imperfections started to appear.

The box overflowing with bottles once filled with alcohol next to the recycling bin, which was already too full with more empty bottles. A crooked ‘Home Sweet Home’ sign by the front door. Dying grass, overgrown and conquered with the little weeds Richie used to make wishes on before blowing the seeds into the summer air (I wish for friends. I wish for better parents. I wish to be loved).

He parked the station wagon on the curb, saving the space next to his Mom’s car for his father.

Maggie’s car hadn’t been driven in months (years?), and Richie absently wondered if it would even work anymore. It was nice, a decent heater and it drove well, at least it did when she had bothered to drop him off at school as a kid. Despite her general lack of care for the wellbeing of others, Mrs. Tozier did not drink and drive. Meaning, she didn’t drive at all, as she was drunk off her ass most of the time.

Richie grabbed his books from the backseat and clambered out, fumbling to find his house key among the mess of weird keychains he bought while high.

He didn’t bother stating his presence, even as a pretense, giving up the habit long ago.

Maggie Tozier sat outside, her back facing the screen door in the kitchen. A cigarette rested from her fingertips, and Richie wasn’t sure if she was actually smoking it or just watching it burn. Of course, her other hand gripped a bottle of beer, and a wine cooler sat at her feet.

Richie scoffed and bounded up the stairs to his room, a ‘KEEP OUT’ sign and band posters adorning the door.

It was often said that one’s room reflected who they were as a person, and Richie was no exception. That is, to say, his room was an absolute fucking mess. His bed was never made, and clothes and knick knacks littered the floor (he had already tripped over some beat up sneakers as he walked in). Old mugs, comics, a lava lamp, lotion, and an ashtray Bev had made him in ceramics sat on his bedside table (read: an old wooden apple carton). The only thing that he kept clear was his record player and vinyls at the edge of the bed, which were meticulously organized.

He tossed his notebooks on his desk, alongside stolen pens, his laptop, and his bong. If his parents actually fucking talked to him he would bother to hide his shit, but it didn’t really matter.

Picking up his laptop and its charger, Richie was on his way out again. He could stay home to conduct his research, but he hated the stuffiness and how lifeless the house felt. It wasn’t really even a home, at least not his. Plus, coffee. It was a necessity, especially for the amount of bullshit he’d have to go through just for the tiny brat.

Richie drove to the Starbucks on Main and Belmont, strolling up to barista and ordering his usual: venti quadruple-shot, black. While he often gorged himself on sweets, his need for caffeine could only be sated by the purest form the coffeeshop could offer.

Per usual, the barista gave him a look, “You sure?”

“Listen, I’ve already made a shit ton of horrible decisions today. Trust me, this is not the worst of them,” Richie answered, sliding the cash across the counter

She raised her brows but said nothing else, handing him the change.

He set up shop at a table by the window in the back, away enough from the other patrons. Most of the time Richie threw caution to the wind, but he figured it would suspicious if someone saw him furiously stalking someone who looked like they hadn’t even graduated from middle school.

After retrieving his coffee, opening his MacBook, and plugging his headphones in, Richie scoured Instagram first. ‘Eddie.k’ didn’t post much, mostly some artsy photos, including ones of Bill and Stanley Uris (their other best friend). There were only one or two selfies, much to Richie’s disappointment. Eddie wasn’t actually too bad looking if you ignored his clothes, his hair, his… everything. Freckles dusted his face, concentrated around his little nose, a few on his lips. Cute lips. Cute cheeks. He had the urge to pinch them. But Jesus, that combover. What was he, a balding man in the 80’s?

Other than those pictures, Eddie hadn’t really posted to Instagram in months. He moved onto his tagged photos. They had some more substance, although Eddie had pretty much only been tagged in pictures by Bill and Stan. It wasn’t like Richie wasn’t in the same boat of having only a few close friends, but at least he hung out with other people.

For the most part, the pictures were pretty normal, the three of them hanging out. Richie couldn’t help but snort at a picture of the three, presumably after a sleepover. They looked exhausted, hair messy, and were brushing their teeth. Pretty mundane, but Eddie had pulled a ridiculous face in the mirror. It was silly, but Richie hadn’t even thought Eddie was capable of making jokes or doing weird shit. The fucker was always uptight, serious even when they had a substitute. Unsurprisingly, Eddie did not appreciate the post.

eddie.k: literally stan delete this!!!!!!

stantheman: @eddie.k, sorry sweatie (:

Richie grinned and continued to scroll, stopping at a picture of Eddie lying down on the grass, laughing. He wore a red tracksuit, the one students wore to P.E. when the bitter chill of autumn came to Derry. His hair must’ve been a little sweaty, because it was curling up into a messy halo around his grinning face. Richie wanted to know this Eddie, see him curl up laughing, but he knew that would never happen.

He perused their profiles for a while before growing bored, downing a third of his coffee before moving on. Except Eddie didn’t seem to have a Twitter, or a Snapchat. A quick google search of his name only came up with a few images and… a Facebook profile?

Richie prayed that it was an old one Eddie had never deleted, but after the page loaded he saw that the most recent status was made last night.

“Oh my fucking god,” he whispered to himself.

Eddie’s profile picture made him look particularly child-like, a weird picture of him pointing to the camera like he was cool, even though the same hand had a clunky old watch wrapped around it. His header picture displayed the quote ‘there is bravery in being soft’.

Richie snorted, “Yeah, a soft fucking dick!”

Another patron scoffed at his fowl mouth, and he shot her a smug grin.

Eddie only had 40 friends on the site, which consisted of Bill, Stan, some of the other nerds at Derry High, and his mother and her friends. It wasn’t like someone’s Facebook friends actually mattered, especially because only middle aged mothers who posted minion memes about their alcoholism used it anymore, but it was still kinda pitiful.

His posts were generally uninteresting, stuff like ‘super nervous for the math test’, or ‘soooooooooooo bored ://///’. Otherwise, he mostly just shared pictures of cute dogs and DIY videos.

It was hard to find any useful information on Eddie, since he obviously lied a lot. Not in the way of bragging, or saying that he did things he didn’t (like Richie did). But there were comments from Mrs. Kaspbrak’s friends calling him a lady killer, or a few posts calling Carly Rae Jepsen cute (please, Run Away With Me is the one of gayest songs of all time). Eddie was closeted, and Richie knew from experience that someone could never really be themselves around others if they weren’t out.

What his profile lacked in useable information, it more than made up with blackmail material.

Take, for instance, little Eddie in possibly the gayest fucking hat imaginable.

He screeched as he saw the picture of the eleven year old, a white fedora-bucket hat hybrid sitting atop his tiny head, before breaking out into a full on wheeze. Richie was laughing so hard he couldn’t breathe, and then he thought about Eddie using his inhaler in that gay ass hat and laughed even harder.

The other customers began to stare, some concerned, and others pissed off at the disturbance.

Once he had collected himself somewhat, Richie sent a screenshot to the group chat.

the losers

bev: oh my fucking G O D

richie: I CANT FUCKIN BREATHE ELRNKKLNERG

richie: LIKE F U C K !!! KLJKLGRJKLLEJK

richie: LOOK AT HIS GAY HAT

richie: LIKE, IT’S GAYER THAN WEARING NOTHING BUT A PRIDE FLAG AND GLITTER

richie: HE LOOKS LIKE A TWINKY SKIPPER

richie: HOW IS THAT HAT MORE GAY THAN EVERY SINGLE ONE RYAN EVANS WORE IN THE ENTIRE HIGH SCHOOL MUSICAL FRANCHISE COMBINED

bev: i’m muting you

mike: me too

mike: also that hat isn’t that bad

“‘Not that bad?!’” Richie squawked, not that he’d be able to hear him.

(Really, Richie had no authority on the subject. He still donned the occasional Hawaiian shirt over his tees).

He refreshed Eddie’s profile, seeing that he had made a new status.

Eddie Kaspbrak: big night friday, nervous but excited !!!!

Richie raised his brows in intrigue, seeing that Bill and a handful of other people liked the status. What was going on Friday?

He checked to see if Bill had posted anything, if Eddie was going somewhere, chances were Bill was too.

Bill Denbrough: almost the weekend, finally ready to let loose

Seriously, it would’ve been so much easier if Bill was the guy Richie had to woo. Kid was probably fucking nervous for a party, a place where you threw caution to the wind and had a good time. Still, he made a mental note about finding out what their Friday plans were.

Richie sighed, taking another swig of his coffee, “God, what a fucking loser.”

Suddenly, his headphones were being tugged out of his ear by an angry middle-aged woman with short-layered hair and eye bags.

“Hey, what the fuck?” Richie glared, snatching back his headphones.

The woman returned the look, putting her hands on her hips, “Don’t you have respect for the other customers?!”

“Sweetheart, I don’t have respect for myself, let alone some PTA moms-- like the post-divorce haircut by the way.”

Apparently, his finger guns did not soften the blow, because the lady started to scream at him.

And, apparently, this lady was also the manager, and was pushing him out the door.

So great, Eddie and his dumb gay hat got him banned from Starbucks.

Even though he was wounded from Eddie’s betrayal, (because Richie getting kicked out was definitely not his fault-- it was Eddie’s homosexual headwear. An anthropomorphic device of chaos, that Eddie owned, so, yeah, it was Kaspbrak’s fucking fault.) Richie still skipped smoking on Thursday to spend his lunch with the tiny fuck.

Obviously, they hadn’t made plans to do so, but Richie had, and he really couldn’t delay starting the bet. There was a lot on the line.

So, after getting out of econ (turning in an unstudied for but probably aced quiz), and throwing his shit in his locker, Richie detoured to the cafeteria.

The place was a fucking mess, and it reminded Richie just why he avoided the place. It was pure chaos, loud and overwhelming, a million things to get distracted by. Freshman with their stupid rolling backpacks kept whizzing by, making Richie trip or get his feet ran over. The tables were already filled, the honor roll kids, the partiers, Gretta and her gang. Fucking cliches.

He got in line, picking up a tray and proceeding to fiddle with the buttons at the cuff of his black and white flannel; trying to tune out the buzz of conversation. It was weird, at parties he thrived on the noise and disorder, but here all it was doing was fucking with his ADHD.

Richie drummed a beat onto his tray as the line moved forward and picked the most edible looking slop from the menu. The lunch lady glowered at him as he reached for his money only to realize he had put it in the other pocket, fumbling to put the bills and coins on the counter.

As she put the money in the register, Richie looked around the room, checking to see where Eddie was sitting. He was sat near one of the exits, carefully taking out his lunch and swinging his legs. And he was alone. Perfect.

“Kid, do you want a receipt or not?” the lunch lady snapped from across from him.

Richie blinked back into focus, “Uh, sure, sorry.”

She sighed and printed out the receipt, slamming it down on the tray, “Next!”

Grabbing his tray, Richie plucked up some plastic cutlery and made his way through the sea of students to Eddie Kaspbrak. He had to twist and lift his tray a bit, but eventually the crowds started to part a bit. A chorus of whispers started to erupt. Stupid small town.

“Is that Richie Tozier?”

“I think, but doesn’t he always get high with his stoner friends?”

“What is he doing here?”

“God, he’s so hot.”

Richie smirked, sending a wink at the girl’s praise before sitting across from Eddie. He watched for a moment as the boy continued to focus on on unpacking his utensils and napkins before clearing his throat.

Eddie’s eyes snapped up from his lunchbox, widening when he saw Richie.

“What the fuck?” It was meant to be a whisper to himself, but Eddie’s voice was louder than expected.

Richie grinned at the blushing boy, “Well, hello to you to Eds.”

“Don’t call me that,” Eddie snapped, returning to his food.

Richie waited for him to say something else, at least fucking look at him, but the little fuck kept his eyes glued to his grapes, nails aggressively ripping the fruit from their stems.

“Okay,” he started, taking a sip of his apple juice, “So, you may be wondering why I’m sitting with you—“

Eddie interrupted, annoyance apparent in every fiber of his being, “Is this gonna be quick or not?”

“I’m hoping it’s not quick, although given how hot I am it’s difficult for people to control themselves.”

A long, deep sigh came from Eddie’s (cute, soft) lips. Eddie grabbed at Richie’s hands, flipping them over so that the palms faced upwards.

“Wow, a bit forward, but I’m liking your style Kaspbrak,” Richie winked.

Eddie rolled his eyes and proceed to take out hand sanitizer from his fanny pack, squirting the floral scented product into Richie’s hands.

Honestly, what the fuck?

He must’ve sent the same message to Eddie with his face, because Eddie said, “You obviously aren’t gonna leave me the fuck alone, and if you’re gonna be in my space, you need to be clean.”

Richie raised a brow at this but rubbed the hand sanitizer into his hands anyways.

Jesus Christ, what a weird, defensive little bitch.

Eddie watched with focused eyes, and only spoke when Richie was finished.

“Continue.”

It took a moment for Richie to gain his bearings once more. This mission seemed dead on arrival, but he had to keep trying anyways.

“So, Eddie…” Richie trailed off, twirling the pasta on his plate before his eyes lit up, “Eddie Spaghetti, Eduardo, what’s up?”

Eddie scowled, “That’s not my fucking name!” he squeaked, “And ‘what’s up?’ I mean, we’ve barely even talked before. You think I’m just gonna put up with this because you’re Richie Tozier? I swear to god, if this is some fucking bullying thing...”

Around them, people began to stare and eavesdrop at the sound of Eddie yelling. Fucking perfect.

Richie blinked back at the boy across from him, now red in the face for a different reason, “Calm down, I’m just trying to get to know you.”

“Fat fucking chance.”

Okay, wow. Richie had more work cut out for him than expected. He thought of what to say next as he watched Eddie finish his grapes.

“This isn’t, like, a joke,” (it wasn’t real either), “I just wanna hang out.”

“Hang out?” Eddie’s chocolate brown eyes met Richie’s, his tone mocking.

Richie nodded, “Yeah, ya know, kick it with the homies. Make out a little if you’re down. Friend stuff.”

Eddie’s jaw clenched, “You’re unbelievable. Just fucking unbe— you know, how can you even say any of that shit? How can we be ‘homies’ if we’ve never ‘hung out’ before? And don’t want to-- I’m not-- you don’t know me!”

There was something underlying in Eddie’s voice as he snapped, wavering at the end. Richie, like most things in life, was completely and utterly fucking up.

“Well then, how about we fix that?” Richie leaned forward, “I was wondering if maybe you’d wanna—“

Abruptly, Eddie stood up, grabbing his food and walked off, making his way towards the cafeteria line where Bill and Stan were paying for their lunch.

Richie looked around at all the watching faces, some snickering and others as shocked as he was.

“...Embarrass me horribly in front of all these people.”

He took a deep breath, and shoved some spaghetti in his mouth, his frown growing larger at the disgusting taste. Richie was often considered a wild card, but this was when routine was a good thing. He should’ve just avoided this and sparked up with Bev and Mike.

Actually, he was going to do just that. There was still some left in lunch, and no reason for him to stay in the cafeteria if Eddie was giving him the cold shoulder. More like a giant fucking iceberg but still, pointless. Besides, he really needed to get high now. Eddie ruined his whole mood and pissed him the fuck off.

Richie got up and tossed out the inedible garbage before going to the usual spot, finger itching for a joint.

He used his foot to push open the door, which would’ve been cool, except with his clumsiness and horrible luck he tripped forward, narrowly avoiding falling down the steps and face planting by grabbing the railing.

As Richie caught his breath and stabilized himself, he could hear his friends laughing.

“Back so soon?” Bev smirked knowingly, taking a drag.

Richie huffed, “Ha ha. Let’s yuck it up for my misfortune,” he grabbed her joint and took a long hit, “This fucking kid, Bev. I don’t think I can do this!”

“As in, you’re morally incapable of leading him on?” Mike asked hopefully.

“Please, let’s be realistic here Mikey. No, that kid is like, the fuckin devil incarnate. Shithead is fucking crazy!” Richie paced, smoking from the joint.

Bev laughed, “What makes you say that?”

“Why don’t ya ask the whole fucking school?” Richie snapped, though the anger wasn’t directed at her, “They were watching it all go down. If that wheezy asshole ruins my reputation—“

“What reputation?” Mike interjected.

Richie rolled his eyes and flipped him off.

Another voice spoke up, “I dunno, Richie’s pretty well known. I like him well enough.”

Richie whirled around, just noticing a new face among the usual group, Ben Hanscom.

The eternal new kid, since no one ever moved to ass backwards Derry, was not someone he’d expect to be behind the art building. Maybe reciting poetry or some shit, but not blazing. Ben was sweet and genuine, albeit a little shy. He was no longer the chubby kid he once was, more stocky and muscular now. They weren’t too close, as the tawny haired boy spent more time with Mike and Bev, and if not them, the other dorks (like Eddie and his friends). But either way, dude was pretty chill. Richie just didn’t really want him there mid-meltdown.

“Haystack?! You smoke?!” he whistled, “Ho-ly shit, who woulda thought!”

Ben shook his head, “Uh, no I don’t. Mike and I just had to study for history next block.”

His deep brown eyes flitted to Beverly, who had now stolen back her joint and was playing with the key that hung from her neck. Yeah, studying was the only reason. Not Ben’s excruciatingly obvious crush on the red head.

“We would’ve just gone to the library, but Bev and I made a bet about if you’d be successful or not today,” Mike said.

Richie gasped, “Betting on my failure? Fuck you guys, Benny Boy is my new best friend.”

“I didn’t sign up for that.”

“Hey, I bet on you succeeding,” Mike put his hands up in surrender, “She’s the one who thought you’d screw it up.”

“And I was right. Pay up,” Bev smiled, holding out her palm.

Mike dropped a candy bar in it with a deep sigh. She tore open the wrapping, taking a savage bite of the chocolatey sweet.

“I think you have a gambling problem,” Mike quipped.

Bev shrugged, “Not a problem if I keep winning.”

She grinned, her teeth covered in chocolate and spit. Gross. Ben still looked enraptured. Double gross.

“Anyways, can we focus on the important bet, and the fact that this fuck is impossible! Seriously, Bev, babygirl, pick anyone else!” Richie whined, plopping his bony ass on the cement.

“First off, don’t call me ‘babygirl’,” she flicked the ash off the end of the joint at him, “Second, the deal was anyone. You either woo him or you don’t.”

Richie opened his mouth to complain again but Ben beat him to it.

“I’m sorry, but what are we talking about?”

The other three looked at each other in panic. Ben was friends with Eddie, there was no way he could find out what was going on. The whole thing would be ruined before it started.

“Nothin!” Richie squeaked, “Just uh… bet that I couldn’t ace a group project. I usually just bullshit a lot of that stuff and leave it up to the others if I can. Partner’s just a little… high strung.”

Bev groaned and Mike sighed. A horrible fucking lie. Richie was already trying to formulate a better one in his head.

Ben smiled, “That’s nice, a wholesome, supportive bet. But you really should just communicate with your partner. They might be nervous because of your history is all.”

Richie let out a sound of relief before realizing Ben’s advice could actually be helpful.

“Sure, but I already tried to talk to him and it didn’t go well,” he explained.

Bev and Mike raised their brows, catching on.

“Well, how did you talk to him?” Ben asked, “Was it an ambush or a friendly conversation?

Bev snorted, “Ambush, knowing Richie. He doesn’t do friendly conversations.”

“Maybe with you, because you’re on my ass all the time,” Richie shot back, “But uh, she’s right. Shouldn’t matter though, everyone knows that’s how Tough Guy Tozier does his business.”

Mike groaned, “Please don’t call yourself that ever again.”

“You’re just coming on too strong. You have to consider what he likes, what he wants. A good partnership comes with compromise and communication,” Ben nodded sagely.

Richie ruffled his hair, putting on his trusty British voice, “Thank you Advisor Hanscom. Your wisdom is greatly appreciated.”

Ben smiled awkwardly, his eyes going to Bev once again, “Course.”

He took the joint from Bev, inhaling the musty smoke and blowing it out his nostrils, the burning sensation familiar and welcome.

“And maybe, you should talk to him sober next time,” Mike suggested.

Richie laughed, “Don’t be ridiculous.”

By the time the final bell rang, he was still feeling defeated and unsure of his next move. Sure, he’d have to dial back his trashmouth charm, try to seem actually invested in Eddie but… that wasn’t going to happen if the brat never talked to him again. Richie had to find a way to break the tension between them, start fresh.

He sulked to his locker, pulling out his shit from the looming mess. Loose binder paper and pencils fell onto the ground, and Richie just wanted to bang his head against the wall of metal. Also, go home and smoke while playing video games but, mostly, hit his head repeatedly. Maybe he’d lose enough brain cells to forget the entire day.

After a few moments of excessive cursing, Richie grabbed what he needed and got everything that fell back into the locker. He noticed a new post it on the door just before he closed it.

Don’t give up :) <3 - mike

Richie smiled, and slammed the locker shut with a resounding clang. With a little stretch and a fix of his glasses, he strolled through the halls, making his way to the parking lot to wait for Mike.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Bill and Stan loitering around the halls as well, engaged in (an undoubtedly boring) conversation.

He remembered Bill and Eddie’s facebook status’ about exciting plans for tomorrow night and decided he should investigate.

“Billiam! Staniel!” Richie called as he approached them, “What’s up?”

The two stopped talking and looked up, Bill smiling while Stan rolled his eyes.

“H-hey, Richie,” Bill waved. Richie noted that his stutter had gotten a lot better just over the past year. The two of them had shared a few classes when they were juniors and were pretty friendly with one another. At least compared to his relationship with Eddie and Stan, who also seemed to hate him for no reason.

Speaking of, the prim and proper boy was glaring at him, “Didn’t get enough of being a nuisance at lunch?”

Richie raised a brow, “Whatever do you mean?”

Stan scoffed, and opened his mouth to respond, but Bill put a hand on his shoulder, “N-nothing. Stan’s just… on edge. What’s up w-with you?”

“Not much, just trying to figure out what my plans are for tomorrow,” Richie shrugged, “Got any suggestions?”

“The only thing on your mind is where to party? Not surprised,” Stan quipped.

Richie shoved his hands in his pockets, biting his tongue. Snapping at Eddie was what caused his whole operation to go south, and he couldn’t mess up this second chance.

Bill ignored the tension between them, “Well, usually w-we don’t do t-t-too m-much, but it’s s-senior year. Probably going to Peter Gordon's party.”

“That kid’s an ass.”

“Coming from you, that’s rich,” Stan commented, his arms crossed.

His grinned, “Well, yeah, I am Rich.”

Stan sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Yeah, he is, but he’s also s-super wealthy,” Bill avoided another ‘rich’ pun, “Meaning he’ll h-h-ave q-q-quality shit.”

Richie beamed, “Ah, I get it. You’re Robin Hood-ing that fuck. I like your style Billy Boy.”

He clapped Bill on the shoulder, and the other boy blushed slightly, “W-well, it wasn’t j-just my idea. Eddie and Stan helped.”

“Eddie? He’s coming with you guys?”

Bill shook his head, “N-no. He was supposed to, b-b-but that art thing came up so he h-had to cancel.”

“Art thing?” Richie asked, suddenly intrigued. This was the information he wanted.

“Yeah,” Bill nodded, “It’s this show that happens every month. At Jester Theatre. He always goes.”

Stan not so subtly elbowed Bill in the ribs, hissing at him to shut up.

“W-what?!”

“Yeah, what’s got your steamed panties in a twist Uris?” Richie smirked.

Stan sent him a scowl, “You know very well Tozier. Eddie told us all about what you did at lunch. Back the fuck off.”

“S-stan, I don’t think he meant--”

“No, Bill, he did,” Stan interrupted, “I don’t know what your game is, but if you hurt him…”

Richie put his hands up in surrender, “Hey, I’m not going to hurt him. He seems pretty strong anyways. I mean no harm.”

Stan didn’t look convinced at all. Fair enough.

The air between the two was tense, but Bill broke it by clearing his throat, “So, uh, will w-we see you at the p-p-party?”

Richie shook his head ‘no’, “Probably not. I have some more sophisticated plans lined up.”

a/n: hope you liked it! next chapter is p much all richie and eddie so get excited. if you enjoyed i would love hearing your feedback

oh and this is eddie’s gay hat if you were curious

#reddie #reddie fic #he's all that #my writing #it fic #yeah still have no idea how to tag this

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capnebula · 6 years

Text

Winter Cherry - II

A/N: This chapter is a bit shorter than the last, but there's a reasonable amount of story to it so I felt like I could leave you guys with this. I'd also like to extend thanks to those on my taglist for enjoying the first part enough to want to be tagged.

BLURB: It was always said that if you met a mutant with the opposite power as you, that person was your soulmate. Stan Uris, who steals life with his power, didn't believe in superstitions like that until he met Mike Hanlon, the boy who gives life.

PAIRINGS: Stanlon (main), Reddie (side), Benverly (side)

WARNINGS: main character with negative self image (will update as needed)

WORD COUNT: 1,452

Part I - AO3

The next thing Stan knew, he was being led outside and Richie and Eddie were waving goodbye to him. His suitcase was still in the building, and he was feeling very overwhelmed by it all. He blinked rapidly and took a deep breath to calm down without crashing into something. Mrs. Denbrough was walking well ahead of him, he noticed, so he scrambled to catch up. “Glad to see you made it to your tour, finally,” she smiled. Stan couldn't help but laugh and reply with a ‘yeah’. “Richie has told me about your power already. I’m sure it’s a hard thing to live with,” Stan thought about it before nodding. “It is, but I’m used to it,” He was, after all. Right from birth he nearly killed his mother. Luckily his power wasn’t strong enough to kill her at the time. His second encounter was actually with Richie, who hadn’t known about the power yet and accidentally grabbed his hand. That was why he started wearing gloves; he didn’t want to hurt anyone ever again. As he grew, he sort of closed himself off from others just in case he came in contact with someone who could be killed. “Considering that you were born with it, I’m not surprised. All of us kind of have to be. It’s rather sad you were born with what you have, though. Here, however, we’ll help you hone and control your power so that there won’t be any more accidents,” Stan wondered how he could control a power with such destructive force. A power like his wasn't meant to be controlled. That's what he had always thought, at least. “How so?” he asked after a moment. He was genuinely curious, after all. Mrs. Denbrough went right to explaining. “Well, I think that due to the way your ability works, it won't be something you can stop and start, like someone with a mutation similar to myself. This will be more figuring out if you can make the power more or less strong of your own will, or if we'll have to tailor something that will protect your ability from others so no one gets hurt. I want you to be able to interact with people still; that's my prime function here,” Stan nodded and went back to thinking. He figured it made enough sense to try and pulse the energy so that he didn't always kill whoever it was touching him right away. He looked around, seeing people practising with their abilities. There was a group of kids with various elements conjured straight from their hands that they were passing right then. “There's a few people I want you to meet and get to know, Mr. Uris. They're friends of Mr. Tozier, and I think they will be good companions for you to have in the future,” They were approaching a group of five people, only one of which was a girl. There was one boy who looked significantly younger than the others, but the ready seemed to be of the same general age. The first who caught his eye was the girl. She was the odd one in the group, with what looked like tattoos all over her freckled arms. Her hair was a sort of reddish ginger, and she was laughing as they came to a stop next to the group. They looked at him when he stopped behind Mrs. Denbrough, and though there was only five of them there, it was almost overwhelming. “Stan, this is Beverly, Ben, Mike, and my sons Bill and Georgie. Everyone, Stan,” she placed a hand on Stan's shoulder as she went to leave and whispered “You'll like them, I promise. Have fun,” While Mrs. Denbrough had pointed out who was who, Stan had already forgotten most of their names. He took a deep breath and made an attempt to say hello or introduce himself, but he realised the last time he had made a friend was Richie, and that was more natural than this. “So, Stan, what’re you here for?” asks one of the boys. He was wearing overalls and a loose maroon tee shirt over his dark skin. “To learn how to get my mutation under control,” “I mean what makes you a mutant? You can sit, too, you know,” Stan slowly lets himself down to sit on the cool grass. He sighed. “I don't like talking about my ability, but I kill with one touch,” The girl piped up. “Hey! Exact opposite of our boy Mike here. He gives life,” she said with a grin. Her voice was very friendly and peppy; it had a sort of bounce to it. Stan looked at the boy she had referenced, the one in the overalls. He wasn't sure how to feel about it all. “Oh, cool. Could you remind me all of your names? I'm usually okay with them but my head was swimming when she told me and, well, I honestly didn't really hear them,” Stan asked in attempt to remember their names and keep something of a conversation going. “No problem! I'm Beverly. Most people call me Bev, though. You can too. Then I already mentioned Mike, and-” “I'm Ben, Beverly’s boyfriend,” introduced a slightly heavyset boy who was sitting next to the redhead with a warm smile. The youngest looked up from his little play world and grinned. “I'm Georgie, and this is my big brother Bill!” he introduced, indicating the boy beside him who had a quiet look about him. Stan nodded slowly, mentally noting each of their names and faces so as to not forget them later on. “Nice to meet you all… Mind if I ask what makes you guys mutant?” he continued. He figured he could navigate a conversation well enough if he thought of the nonfiction books he had read over the summers. The boy Georgie had called Bill looked at Stan a bit more directly to address him. “I'm not a mutant. Just here with my mom since she runs the place,” Georgie said nothing, but instead showed off what he had been doing earlier. Stan now realised that he had been using his power to make shapes out of water from a small tank of sorts. The kid was pretty talented despite his age. Not much of a surprise to Stan, considering the boy was the son of the school’s owner. On the other side of the circle, Beverly shifted. Stan turned to look at her and noticed her tattoos seemed to be moving along her arms. They unfurled themselves and suddenly her arms were bare and there were beautiful wings reflecting the late morning sun. What Stan had thought were tattoos ended up being a part of her power. “I fly, as well as breathe air in which there is little oxygen,” She let her wings go back around her arms, delicately sliding along like snakes, though much smoother. “I do essentially the opposite. I breathe underwater and at very low levels below sea,” Ben said once she had settled and laid her head on his shoulder. Stan nodded and turned to Mike. He knew they had opposite powers, since Beverly had said so. Yet still, Mike smiled and took a moment to locate where he could demonstrate. He stood after a moment and walked to a small patch of dead grass, letting his sandals slip off behind him. His eyes closed and Stan watched along with the group to see the brown become green and the dead become living. It was a rather beautiful ordeal, Stan thought. “Wow,” was all he could say in response to the group's amazing abilities. He somehow felt smaller and more terrible. They could make things seem beautiful, new, and cause people to appreciate the beauty of what was around them, while Stan was left with a power that did nothing but destroy and kill. But he saw Richie walking over, and remembered why he was here. This wasn't for anyone else, it was for his best friend. His really annoying best friend, but still. “Mike. Mrs. Denbrough would, wouldn't she?” Mike quirked an eyebrow questioningly at the boy who was now sporting pink hair. “She's so superstitious, believes all those old kid stories. She's matchmaking like there's no tomorrow, even though her pairs generally work out,” A chorus of “Shut up Richie” sounded from everyone's mouths except Stan and Georgie. “No, Rich, explain. What do you mean?” Stan asked, turning towards the boy. Richie grinned strangely and then leaned toward Stan, so close he backed himself up in case their noses touched on accident. “Don't you remember what your parents always said about mutants with opposite abilities, Standra?”

TAGS: @rhubarberous @alex-twy

#winter cherry #winter cherry part two #stanlon #benverly #reddie

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fairyling · 6 years

Text

mismatched // part 3

summary: everyone has marks on their body that match their soulmate. stan doesn’t belive that there’s someone out there to complete him while richie dates people left and right in hopes of finding the person to finish his life.

a/n: i wanted to have each character play an important role in this story so this chapter is very bill and richie centric! with some minor interactions from the other losers! there’s also some georgie content! let me know what you think.

word count: 1517

part 1 // part 2 // part 3 // part 4 // part 5 // part 6 // part 7 // part 8

George had had his soulmark since he started preschool. He came home excitedly to tell Bill about it and Bill revealed his to his younger brother when Georgie shared the news. There was a little boy in his class that had the same mark as Georgie so Bill explained what that meant to his younger brother. It wasn’t something that Georgie fully understood or got the chance to. Before he was old enough to understand what a soulmate really was, Georgie disappeared. Bill held on to hope that one day he’d find his brother and he swore that he’d explain anything Georgie wanted to understand to him.

Instead, Bill found a clown that was responsible for the disappearance of his brother.

At Georgie’s funeral the crayon etched into the back of his hand, right near his thumb, stood out to Bill like a glaring neon sign. He had only ever heard Georgie talk about the person with his matching soulmark. It was usually stories about how they shared their lunches or took turns pushing each other on the swings. It was so precious that Bill often looked forward to hearing his little brother’s stories and would always brighten his day. While Bill had yet to find his soulmate, he loved to hear about Georgie and his. Even if Georgie still believed that it meant they’d be best friends forever, it was too cute for Bill to correct.

Georgie’s friend was at the funeral, though. Bill spotted him by the matching mark on his hand. After the casket was buried, the boy lingered at the grave with Bill. When the boy saw Bill lingering he had walked over to look up at Georgie’s big brother. His eyes were full of tears and he reached out to grab his hand. It wasn’t something that he was expecting and the small touch brought a fresh set of tears to his eyes. The mark on his hand was now a bright red, a forever reminder of Georgie.

“Are you Georgie’s big brother?”

“Y-yeah.”

“He always talked about you.”

“H-he did?”

“Yeah. I miss him. He always brought an extra sandwich because I forgot mine.”

“He is--- w-was a good kid.”

Now Bill searched for soulmarks in all of his friends. Even though Georgie died before he could fully understand the weight of a soulmark, he died having found the person meant for him. He wanted to help his friends find their soulmates so maybe they could be as happy as Georgie once was. It was arguable that Bill paid closer attention to soulmarks than Stan did. There was a reason for all of this, though, unlike Stan who simply watched. Bill knew that Eddie had yet to find his soulmark and that Richie was still trying to find his. This lead Bill to his own conclusions, but he kept his thoughts to himself.

When they went swimming at the quarry, Bill seemed to be the only one who noticed the bird on Stan’s hip. It was usually hidden by the waistband of his underwear, but he still managed to catch sight of it a few times. Ben had the same bird in the same spot, but he didn’t seem to take as much care in hiding it. Bill assumed that it was because Ben thought that the universe got his soulmate wrong. It was no secret that he was holding out for Beverly who had a cigarette on her collarbone. She seemed to take this as a sign of her being her own soulmate and spouted it off with pride, but Bill could see a sadness behind her eyes when she talked about it.

It was several months after Richie and Stan started to date that Bill noticed a mark starting to show up on Richie’s collarbone. It was beneath a poorly hidden hickey on Richie’s collarbone. They were watching movies and Stan had gotten up to go get more popcorn with Beverly following. Eddie had excused himself to the bathroom which left Bill with Richie, Ben, and Mike. He scooted closer to Richie and tried to get a better look at the mark but the other boy was too busy moving about as he explained how he already knew the ending to the book. Ben was warning him not to spoil it for anyone, but Richie didn’t seem to care much.

“Hey, Rich. D-do you want a cigarette b-before we hit play on the m-movie? You know we w-won’t pause it again unless we r-run out of popcorn.”

“I think I’ll be good, Big Bill. Anyway---”

Bill cut him off by grabbing a hand that was dangerously close to his face. The look that Bill gave Richie seemed to silence him so he tugged the other boy up from the ground and led him out the front door. Once they were outside and away from everyone else, Richie gave Bill a confused look that the boy completely missed as he tugged at the collar of Richie’s shirt to get a better view on the mark that he thought he saw.

“Bill! What are you doing? If you wanted me so badly, you should really talk to Stan about a threesome. He’s the one you hav---”

Richie was cut off once more when he felt Bill’s fingers graze the mark. He tried to look at what Bill was inspecting but the angle was awkward and he couldn’t see past Bill’s hand. After a moment, Bill pulled away and held out his hand for Richie to hand him a cigarette. It took several moments for Richie to realize that Bill was waiting for a cigarette. While he inspected the mark blooming underneath the hickey, Bill dug his hand into the pocket of Richie’s windbreaker to get one for himself. He lit it and waited patiently for Richie to make the connection.

“Did you--- Does Stan have this, too?”

Bill frowned and shook his head, taking another drag from the cigarette. He tapped some ash off the end of the cigarette and glanced at the door while he waited for Richie to realize.

“No.”

“Y-yes.”

“It has to be Stan.”

“I-it isn’t.”

“Well…” Richie trailed off, pulling a the crushed pack out of Bill’s hands and light his own using the end of Bill’s. The boys stared at each other before Bill sighed and took another drag once it was handed back to him.

“Well w-what?”

“I don’t know! I have spent my whole life believing this bullshit. Now I don’t know. I just… This has to be wrong. You know I don’t have any issues with that person, but we both know they aren’t who I’m supposed to be with.”

“W-what are you going to d-do?”

“Stan can’t know. Even if he doesn’t believe it, I don’t want to find out how he’d react.”

“I th-think my mom has some m-makeup. We can h-hide it.”

“You know how to use that shit?”

“K-kinda.”

Stan reentered the living room with a bowl of popcorn in his hands. Beverly was holding the other two and she went to sit beside Mike. On her way through she set a bowl in Eddie’s lap since he was sitting on the other side of the room and wouldn’t have access to popcorn otherwise. He mumbled a ‘thank you’ and popped a couple of pieces in his mouth. Stan surveyed the room and caught Bill and Richie heading up the stairs. “Hey! We’ll start the movie without you!” he threatened, knowing that the others wouldn’t agree to starting the movie without Bill. Richie, maybe. Not Bill, though.

“Where are they going, anyway?” he asked as he gave up his seat with Richie in favor of sitting beside Ben. The movie had gone on long enough that he knew they were toeing a dangerous line of Richie revealing the ending of the movie which would undoubtedly end with Stan hitting Richie. Ben tended to stay quiet during the movies so maybe Bill or Eddie could deal with Richie’s incessant talking for the last half. Stan only had a number of ways he could attempt to shut Richie up before it lost it’s cuteness and became downright annoying.

“I’m not sure. Bill insisted that they take a smoke break.”

“Without me? That fucker owes me at least a pack of cigarettes.” Beverly piped up before throwing another piece of popcorn into Mike’s mouth.

“Which one?” Ben was now looking at Beverly. Stan bit his cheek to keep from demanding Ben keep his attention on him.

“Richie, obviously.”

“Maybe it’s better that he doesn’t give it to you. I want you to still be able to breathe in twenty years.” Eddie piped up from the corner only to have Beverly throw some popcorn his way.

“Okay, well they can’t smoke upstairs.” Stan commented, glancing at the staircase that his best friend and boyfriend had just gone up. Only to see them coming back into the room.

“We’re not! Why are you sitting over there, Stanley? Is it that hard for you to keep your hands to yourself when we sit together?”

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