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thegoodgayshit · 3 years

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Luz’s mother really doesn’t want to send Luz to camp. She knows once she leaves, there is no going back. But Luz has a knack for getting into trouble, and one day she stumbles into the same type of people her mother would have preferred she avoided. After helping Luz dissolve her high school bully into dust, Eda and Lilith know right away that this kid is just like them - a child of the gods. So Luz hops on a Pegasus and heads to Camp Half-blood, where she embarks on a dangerous quest that makes her both friends and enemies... and she might even save Olympus along the way.

Chapter Three: I Make My Second Enemy

Luz thinks her first night at Camp Half-Blood was a success. She laughed along with her new friends at the campfire, singing songs and telling stories before she went back to Cabin Eleven and got her first night of sleep.

But then the dreams started.

It seemed innocent enough. Luz was standing in the hallways of her school alone, grabbing books from her locker. But then she felt her body slam against it, once again being thrown just like she had by Lina earlier that afternoon. She couldn’t see anything as her body turned, and she realized with a panic that something cold and sharp pressed into her spine.

“Yes, little hero,” the voice whispered coldly against her. “Play the pawn, be the god’s pet, just as we were. You are a fool.”

Just before she thought for sure she would get run through with a sword, she threw herself awake in her bunk, breathing heavily.

It was sometime early in the morning, just before dawn. She had been so exhausted from the night before, she had fallen asleep in her hoodie and shorts. Not that she had pajamas, but she would have at least just worn her leggings and a tank top. The dog tag necklace she had stolen from Lina was still around her neck, and Luz took it off as quickly as she could with her shaky hands.

Careful not to wake her sleeping cabinmates, Luz carefully crept to her chest she shared with Jerbo, opening it and taking out her phone, sketchbook, and some of the hanging tacks.

She crept back up to her bed, hanging the dog tag necklace on her portion of the wall using a tack and pulling the blanket over her head, using her phone flashlight to open the sketchbook and start drawing. She drew what she had experienced in her dream, being pressed against the floor and pushed down by a stranger holding a sword. Shivering at the scary drawing, she flipped the page and decided to just draw some fanart to calm herself down. She didn’t have a lot of room left in her book, but she figured it was worth space. She drew herself as Azura from her favorite book series, and she felt her mood already start to go up as she worked.

Before long the rest of the cabin got up and the day began. After eating a quick breakfast in the pavilion, the Hermes cabin began their activities for the day.

Viney had explained to Luz what it meant to be claimed at the campfire last night, and she said that at any moment now a god would give some kind of sign she was their daughter. But the moment at the campfire never came. Luz had the feeling Viney was letting her give things a try, to see if she picked anything up in particular that would give away her godly parent.

She wasn’t very good at archery, but she wasn’t terrible either. She did have to apologize to Skara, one of the Apollo kids, after almost skewering her while she went to go pick up her arrows. She didn’t mind canoeing, but she confessed to Jerbo that she was a little nervous about falling in the water. Luz knew how to swim, but right now she only had this set of clothes, and really didn’t want them to get wet.

After archery and canoeing, the Hermes cabin gathered in the arena to practice sword fighting. Viney fit Luz into some of the practice armor and handed Luz a four-foot blade that felt clumsy in her hand. She wasn’t bad at sword fighting either, but she felt like she couldn’t move quickly in the bulky armor, and got knocked down by Jerbo more than once.

After that, they had an hour for a break. Luz was supposed to meet Willow and Gus by the shed outside Cabin Six in half an hour, so she figured she would walk to the camp store and buy herself some more clothes.

The store was pretty cute looking and had a decent selection of supplies. The cashier today was a camper, one Luz thought she recognized playing basketball the previous day. He nodded to her when she walked in.

She headed to the counter, meeting him with a smile. “Hi, Eda said my mom sent me some money here. It should be under the name Luz Noceda?”

He smiled breezily, looking unbothered. “Yeah sure, let me get that for you.”

Her mom had sent over a hundred dollars for her to spend. She couldn’t help but grin ecstatically. She had never had that much money before. She’d have to text her Mami thank you.

She cruised through the shop, picking up a couple of the classic orange t-shirts, a hoodie, a pair of extra shorts, and a pair of jeans in case it gets cold. She grabbed a set of pajama shorts and a clean white shirt to sleep in, a toothbrush, and some other toiletries off the shelf. As she was piling it on the counter, she grabbed some of her own sticky tacks to decorate her bunk. When she brought it to the front and paid, she only had a couple of dollars left in change when she saw a beautiful black sketchbook sitting right by the front wall.

“How much for that?” She asked, gesturing to the book.

“Five fifty,” he says.

Luz counts her change and sighs, crestfallen. With her Mami’s change and the change left from the candy store, she’s only got four fifty left.

“This sucks,” she mumbles, taking her new purchases from the camper, preparing to just leave the store. “I only have four fifty left.”

Then the strangest thing happens. The cashier straightens up, and his eyes get misty like he’s forgotten where he is. He looks at the sketchbook then at her.

“Four fifty’s fine.”

Luz blinks in confusion, but then she grins in excitement, handing him the change. “Really? Thank you so much!”

He shrugs his shoulders, “It’s no problem at all. Have a nice day.”

Luz takes the sketchbook and puts it in the bag with the rest of her items, ecstatic. She couldn’t believe how nice that camper was.

She takes her new stuff back to the Hermes cabin, changing into a new orange shirt and shorts. She packs the rest of her stuff on her side of the chest, including her new sketchbook, and then leaves the cabin to go meet Willow and Gus.

She finds them waiting right where they said they’d be, around the back of Cabin Six. They’re standing next to a decent sized metal shed that extends past the cabin, and they both smile as she approaches them.

“Hey Luz, nice clothes,” Willow says approvingly.

“Thanks, I was really dreading wearing the same stuff over and over,” Luz admits sheepishly.

“Well, now it’s time for the best part of it all! Picking out your weapon,” Gus cheers, gesturing behind him to the shed. “You can find a weapon you like in lots of places… if you want something newly made Cabin Nine is the place to go, but Cabin Six collects a lot of classics, so we have a pretty good selection too. Our goal is to match the right hero with the right weapon. My siblings said you can help yourself if you find anything cool.”

“Awesome!” Luz says in excitement, pumping her fist in the air. She had to admit, lots of stuff about being a half-blood was cool, but the idea of getting her own weapon like what Eda or Lilith had? That had been what Luz was the most excited for.

The trio starts digging around the shed, looking for something that suits Luz. She struggles to find something right… there’s a huge sword she can barely lift, then one that’s so small she has no control over her swing. She even holds a Mossberg shotgun in her hands that shoot celestial bronze. While she agrees with Gus that it’s cool, it’s really not her style.

Then she’s digging underneath a pile of bronze swords when she stumbles across an ancient-looking bronze ring, shimmering on the floor of the shed. Luz blinks at it curiously, before she scoops it up and slides it over her ring finger on her right hand, almost like instinct. She peers at it and realizes the shape of it reminds her of her Mami’s college ring from when she studied medical science. Using the edge of her shirt, she does her best to buff it up.

“What’s this?” She asks her new friends, but before they can respond she touches it and screeches, stumbling backward. The ring had transformed into a two-foot bronze xiphos that Luz had to catch in her hand. She gaped at it in awe and turned it, examining the blaze and realizing the balance was perfect.

Willow and Gus glanced at one another awkwardly, before Gus crossed his arms nervously. “I don’t know if you want that one Luz…”

Luz blinked at him. “Why not?”

“That was Peleus’ weapon,” Willow said slowly, and Luz’s mouth dropped open again.

“Peleus? Wasn’t he the father of like… Hercules or something?”

“Achilles,” Gus corrected quickly.

“Then what’s it doing in the Athena cabin’s shed!” She exclaimed, holding it out as if it might break at any second. The sword shrunk back to a ring in an instant, sitting comfortably on Luz’s hand. “Shouldn’t it be in like… a museum or something?”

“Celestial bronze weapons are meant to be used by demigods,” Gus said with a shrug. “Not be kept in a museum.”

“So why shouldn’t I want it?” Luz asked, now more confused than before. Gus put up his hands like he didn’t want to have this conversation. Willow sighed, taking over for him.

“The ring was enchanted by Hermes for Peleus to use. But after he died a lot of half-bloods have come to the conclusion that it’s cursed. They’ve tried to use it and found that it brought them bad luck.”

“He called the sword Aletheia, which means “disclosure” or “truth” in Ancient Greek,” Gus added helpfully, and Luz hummed, looking down at the ring thoughtfully.

“I want this one,” Luz said certainly, and Willow and Gus shared another look but shrugged, not going to warn her off any further.

“Alright then, the half-blood always knows best,” Willow just said.

“Plus it’s a super cool sword,” Gus said enthusiastically. Luz met his smile with an excited grin of her own, touching the ring to get it to transform again. This time, instead of a sword, Aletheia turned into a bronze knife, about half a foot long. The leather hilt of this blade matched the one of the sword, and Luz’s first thought was to panic.

“I broke it!” She exclaimed in terror, and Gus snorted, doubling over with laughter. Willow blinked in surprise and leaned in for a closer look.

“I’d heard the legend that Peleus also had a knife, but I didn’t think Aletheia could shift twice,” she said with interest. “Is the shifting random?”

Luz tried shifting the weapon multiple times. Eventually, they determined there was no pattern, and the choice was in fact random. Willow disagreed with her, but Luz had a feeling that it favored the sword and shifted into that more often.

“Isn't it so cool?” Gus exclaimed, and Luz couldn’t help but grin from ear to ear. He was right, it really was a cool weapon.

Luz thanked Gus and asked him to thank his siblings as well for letting her browse through the shed, which he promised he would do. Then the three of them had to head back to their activities for the day, so Luz waved goodbye and went to go look for the rest of the Hermes cabin.

She had her first run on the lava rock wall with the Ares cabin, and Luz barely managed to scrape her way to the top without getting burned. As she climbed down and Viney offered her some water, she couldn’t help but express her annoyance with her performance.

“Curse my weak little nerd arms,” she huffed, and Viney smiled sympathetically. Behind Luz, she heard a scoff, and she turned to look in the direction of the noise.

“I was surprised you even made it to the top at all, you were so slow I thought the lava was going to swallow you up.”

It was a girl she had never seen before from the Ares cabin, with pink hair and a sneer that was so cold it could knock Luz flat. A couple of her siblings stood next to her, eyeing Luz like she was fresh meat.

Luz narrowed her eyes. She knew she wasn’t supposed to pick fights anymore, her Mami had asked her not to, but she was at camp now. She had every right to be there just like them.

“Don’t talk to me like that.” Luz retorted, and she noticed some of the other Hermes cabin kids eyeing Luz nervously.

Viney, thankfully, stood up and tossed her an equally annoyed look. “Just walk away, Boscha. We don’t need this right now.”

The girl, Boscha, narrowed her gaze. “Why are you defending her? Your fresh meat over here hasn’t even been claimed yet. It’s obvious enough, even the gods don’t want her.”

Luz felt that in her core, but she swallowed hard, willing away her insecurity. Her dad would come through soon, the gods had promised to claim all their children by the time they were thirteen. She had to believe it would happen at any minute.

“We want her,” Viney argued with a low growl, and Luz felt affection for Viney spring up in her chest.

But Boscha wasn’t interested in being nice. “Why? She can’t even climb a rock wall, never mind do anything useful.”

“I’ll show you useful.” Luz finally snapped, stepping forward to run at Boscha, only to be stopped by Viney holding out an arm.

“She’s not worth it, Luz,” Viney said with a whisper, and Luz felt her face get red with embarrassment when Boscha laughed.

“See? You don’t even think she’s good enough to fight me.” Boscha stepped closer and bared her teeth at Luz, who returned it with a furious expression. “You and I are on opposite teams tomorrow for Capture the Flag. I can’t wait until we destroy you.”

She and her siblings stalked off, and Luz grit her teeth in frustration. “Why do I keep making enemies?”

Viney shrugged, keeping her green eyes locked on the back of Boscha’s head. “She’s one of Amity’s friends. If Amity didn’t like you, neither will Boscha. I already guessed that the Ares cabin would be on Aphrodite’s team tomorrow, but I guess now it’s a done deal.”

Jerbo, who had been climbing the rock wall and only heard the end of the conversation with Boscha, wiped his face with a towel. “So who do we have on our side?”

“Athena, Demeter, Hecate, Nemesis, Tyche, and Hebe so far.” Viney mused, starting to look nervous. “We have numbers on our side, but I’m hoping to get Nike to side with us too. They always have a habit of joining the winning team…”

“We’re totally going to win!” Luz said determinedly, “I won’t let Amity and Boscha’s team win if I have anything to say about it.”

Viney and Jerbo shared a look, and then Jerbo shrugged. “If you say so. But they’re going to be one tough combo to beat.”

“Athena’s cabin promised me a good strategy,” Viney added with a smile. “If we pair that with Luz’s confidence, I’m sure we’ll do great!”

Luz was now more determined than ever to get better at her combat skills. She knew campers would think she was an easy target since she was new, so on their next break before dinner, Luz went alone to the arena to practice.

When she got there, she was surprised to see Eda and King together in the arena. Eda was slashing through some of the practice dummies with her spear, and King was taking a nap on the grass a few feet away.

After ripping the stuffing out of the chest of a dummy, Eda caught sight of Luz. “Oh, hey kid. What are you doing here?”

Luz rubbed the back of her neck in embarrassment. “Capture the flag is tomorrow, and I don’t want to let my team down. I need to learn how to use this sword.”

Eda’s brow furrowed, and she looked at Luz like she had two heads. “Kid… you don’t have a sword with you.”

Luz reached over and touched her ring, and showed Eda Aletheia. Thankfully this time it was a sword and not a knife. Eda looked at it and nodded interestedly, before turning back to the dummy.

“Alright then, I’ll teach you.”

Luz’s eyes widened. “Wait, seriously?”

“Well sure, kid. I am one of the Camp Directors. It’s my job to make sure you’re in tip-top fighting shape.” Eda spun her spear like a baton, and Luz expected it to transform back into Owlbert, but instead, Eda was holding a three-foot bronze falcata. Luz blanched, and Eda just grinned crookedly, showing off that gold fang again.

“Why are you so shocked? You’re not the only one with a transforming weapon, kid. You’ve seen my spear before.”

“It’s just so cool,” Luz said in awe, and she blinked when she realized she was now sounding just like Gus. Eda cackled at her expression, stepping closer to start the lesson. She showed Luz the proper way to stand with a sword and explained the mechanics of how to move your body with the sword, rather than have the sword move for you.

“A hero's best tactic is their adaptability,” Eda explained, pushing her hands against Luz’s shoulder to adjust her stance. “Anyone can swing a sword, but real heroes? They use it as an extension of themselves rather than a tool to make ends meet.”

Luz nodded furiously, already picking up so much more than she had in the arena earlier. Not only was the weapon in her hand now balanced, but Eda was a much more unconventional teacher than Viney. Eda’s unique teachings were helping Luz think creatively with her sword when she was swinging.

After a couple of practice rounds against Eda, (“remember that when fighting an opponent with a longer blade, you need to move inside their own strikes”) she spun Owlbert again to change it back into a spear. Luz began to get a feel for engaging with different kinds of weapons, and soon King had even woken up from his nap to come over and watch, offering sarcastic criticism or yells of encouragement every once in a while. Eda then switched back to her sword, and Luz did much better this time, even managing to disarm Eda once or twice. Each time she did it, Eda would push Luz a little harder, making it more challenging to knock the blade out of her hand.

Luz hadn’t even realized how much time flew until both Eda and Luz were drenched with sweat, completely out of breath.

“Well kid,” Eda said inhaling for air. She spun her sword and it shifted back into Owlbert, who cooed and perched on Eda’s shoulder. “I think that’s the best you’re going to get before tomorrow. You’ve made some really great progress. I’m actually kind of impressed.”

“I feel ready,” Luz said with a grin, touching Aletheia to turn it back to a ring. “Thank you so much, Eda.”

“Don’t thank me,” she said with a thumbs up. “This was fun!”

Luz heard the pair of footsteps from behind her before she heard the voices.

“Oh, have you decided to help train Luz, Edalyn? That’s very out of character for you.”

Luz saw Eda’s sour expression before she turned around, seeing Lilith walking towards them in tow by Amity, who made a point to glare at Luz and look away, crossing her arms.

Luz didn’t understand what she did to have Amity hate her so much, but before she could think about it any further, Eda tossed an arm around Luz’s shoulders and squeezed until the air was knocked out of her, all while smiling smugly. “I sure have, Lily! Luz here is a natural, she’s going to do great tomorrow.”

Lilith hummed, tilting her head humorously. “I’m so glad to hear that Luz is picking up sword fighting skills so quickly! Maybe one day she’ll even be good enough to Amity.”

Luz felt a competitive bubble begin to rise up in her chest and she squared her shoulders challengingly, but Eda beat her to it.

“Oh yeah? What makes you think my student can’t beat your student?” She retorted, and Lilith laughed.

“You mean besides the fact that you’ve been training for all of one day?” She shot back breezily, and Eda scoffed.

“Who cares? Time has nothing to do with it.”

Lilith raised a brow in disbelief. Turning to Amity, who had been standing there quietly, she gestured over to one of the training dummies.

“Would you mind giving a demonstration, Amity?”

Amity looked over at Luz and smiled, but there was nothing nice about the gesture.

“With pleasure, Lilith,” Amity said, drawing a polished short sword (a xiphos, like Luz’s) from her belt. It was two feet long, like Luz’s, and studded with what looked like small amethysts on the hilt. Luz blinked, it was the prettiest weapon she had seen so far.

Amity moved like a storm, slashing and hacking the dummy to pieces using moves that Luz could only dream of learning. Within seconds, the dummy was completely destroyed, pierced in multiple places, and totally decapitated. She finally sheathed her sword and walked back to stand next to Lilith completely unphased.

Eda huffed, crossing her arms. “So you’re girl has some moves. That doesn’t mean she’s going to win tomorrow. Unless she plans on taking out a whole army of campers all at once.”

“I plan on it,” Amity said without hesitation, staring Luz right in the eye as she said it. Luz gulped, now nervous again. She swallowed her anxiety, trying not to give Amity anything more than she deserved.

“Well I’ll see you on the field then,” she said, trying to sound confident, but the crack in her voice gave everything away.

“I’ll see you there,” Amity promised. She wanted to keep arguing, to say something to wipe that rude smile off her face, but before she could muster up the courage Eda had her hand on her shoulder dragging her out of the arena with King on their heels.

As they left, Eda was grumbling angrily under her breath. “Stupid Lily, always thinking she can get the better of me.. well she’ll see tomorrow…”

King was huffing at their heels, “That green-haired girl has a serious attitude problem. I don’t like it.”

When they were out of eyesight from the arena, Eda reached into the pocket of her cloak and began rummaging around. “I’ve got something here that’ll do the trick… ah! Here it is.”

Eda pulled out a bronze device and gestured for Luz to hold out her hand. She wrapped the thing leather strap around her left hand, so the tiny device was pressed into the middle of her palm.

“Eda? What’s this?” Luz asked, reaching over with her other hand to touch it. Eda slapped her hand away quickly, and Luz recoiled.

“Ow!” She exclaimed, and Eda chuckled apologetically.

“Sorry. You just probably shouldn’t touch that. This is a nifty little device I had Cabin Nine make for me a long time ago. If you meet Amity in the forest tomorrow, just touch her skin under her armor with this, and she’ll be immobilized long enough for you to take her down.”

“Take her down?” Luz recoiled, eyes wide at what Eda was saying. “I don’t like Amity, but I’m not going to kill her!”

Eda laughed, patting Luz’s shoulder. “I didn’t mean that. But if you point your sword under her throat and stop her from attacking you, she’s out. Just do that.”

Luz glanced at the little item in her palm anxiously. It looked a lot like a hand buzzer that a prank shop would sell. Luz hadn’t been a half-blood for long, but she had figured out that everything here was a lot more hardcore than she initially expected.

“Eda, this won’t like… seriously hurt her right?”

“It won’t kill her,” Eda said with a shrug. “But I never said it wouldn’t hurt. It’s got enough of a current to bring a Cyclops to their knees. Don’t ask how I know that.”

Luz didn’t like the sound of that at all, but Eda had been pretty helpful so far so she wasn’t going to refuse a gift like this. But there was another worry nagging at the back of her mind.

“Isn’t this kind of cheating?”

“Nah,” Eda said with a wave of a hand. “It’s capture the flag. All magic items are allowed. The other team will be using stronger tricks than this to win the game. You've got to get on their level to win.”

“There’s nothing like a nasty trick to subdue your enemies!” King chimed in with glee.

Luz still wasn’t sure about this, but Eda was giving her this encouraging look that she couldn’t ignore. So she braved a smile, mustering all the certainty she could. “Well, alright then. I’ve got nothing to lose, right?”

“That’s the spirit, kid!” Eda cheered, clapping her again on the shoulder. “Now, you better head back to your cabin before dinner. If this is going to work, and Lily’s team is going to go down big time, I need to talk to Cabin Twenty about some of their magic glitter bombs…”

Eda and King headed off towards the minor god’s ring of cabins, and Luz sighed. She wondered if all she'd managed to do today was squeeze herself more trouble than she was already in.

#the owl house #percy jackson au #lumity #luz noceda #amity blight #shelby speaks

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geneclarksboobs · 4 years

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The Great Peter Infodump of March 2020

yo @brackets-and-woolly-hats @mijaco-geo and @mike-nesmith-for-mayor I have recently been informed that yall would really like me to infodump about Peter and I want to thank yall because I think if I held it in any longer I would explode

Also thanks to the coolcherrycream articles and various interviews that I learnt all these from in the 5-ish months I’ve been thinking about the monkees for

But before I start going hnngggg Peter I would like to warn you that despite my tone this is going to contain some heavy stuff. We’re talking brief mentions of blood, and suicide and death so be careful about that

This is gonna get hella long so *cracks knuckles* let’s begin

Childhood

let’s start from the very beginning: a very good place to start

Friday, 13th February one bb was born and he would always say that Friday the 13th was a lucky day for years onwards

He was born with a lot of diversity in his parentage

He’s Irish and German-Jewish on his mother’s side and Norwegian on his dad’s side

Speaking of Jewishness (is that a word???) I rememeber an article saying that he used to randomly say Hebrew words in interviews and I think he taught Mike how to say something too?? I dont know

Peter was a very friendly boy even when he was just a toddler cus he would drag any new friend he had home

Anyway, he was born in Washington DC

Once on Christmas he went missing and his mum and grams panicked and looked all over the house for him

Turns out he was just waiting at lampost in the snow because he wanted to make sure that Santa would bring him a present

Speaking of Grams, when he was 3 (i think im doing this from memory) he was at a post office with his mother when she came in.

He got uber excited and shouted “THAT’S MY GRAMS. HER NAME IS CAIT!”

And so everyone turned to look at her and he squealed

He would also often ride on the top part double deck buses and whenever the bus slowed down, he would wave to nearby people and say “HI MY NAME’S PETER WHAT’S YOUR?” to which those people who wave back and sometimes answer him. I mean, wouldn’t you?

Also he started to play with pianos when he was 3 and also he liked dancing so that’s cute

One of his first memories was of being at the hospital where his brother Nick (who they called Nicky and that’s what I’m going to call him) was born

Soon after Nicky was born they moved to Germany Yeet. He was 4 and the time and Nicky was like 18 months or smth

Germany

Right so I dont know why people dont talk about this part of his childhood because like,,,it’s interesting??

In Germany they had two maids

They had to put sugar in every food so that Peter and Nicky would actually eat the strange German food

He became very fluent in German and would help his mother with translations

He was also fluent in French for some reason

Someone made a statue of his 4 year old head and it became a famous minor art piece that featured in calendars

It probably now sits in his house because I saw in in the background of the short documentary that his son, Ivan Ivanoli made about him which you sould check btw

Anyway, when Peter was 5 he made his first official best friend Ule who was two years older than him

Once when he was playing hide and seek with Nicky he ran at full force at a closed glass door that he thought was open, shattering it, and getting a shard into his arm. Reasonably he screamed

Apparently, he was hurt a major artery and would have bled to death if not for someone being in the house to call a doctor

Once he was out and about wandering around, as you would do if you were Peter when he was stopped by some official looking guy from going back into his own house.

It’s important to note that Peter looked very much like a German boy and would ONLY talk in German outside. God knows why he did this. Reasonably, the dude thought he was lying and he had to call for his mum

Anyway, in Germany school starts when you’re five but his birthday was in the middle of the school year so his parents sent him in early which set him up for some outcasted child syndrome later

And then the moved back to America yeet

AMERICA (LAND OF CAPITALISM)

So he moved back into America but it didn’t stop there. No. They had to move around like a 100 different times and as someone who went to a total of 4 different schools (so far oh no) that sets you up with outcasted child syndrome. What also sets you up with outcasted child syndrome is if you’re an undiagnosed neurodivergent which Peter seemed to think he was when he was in his 50s (either ADHD or autism) so uhh keep that in mind

So he was in school and as mentioned earlier he was a year younger than his peers so that’s fun

He was very very clever. Often he would finish his work first and his (4th grade) teacher would make do some reading or creative writing. She encouraged him to do creative writing because she saw some talent in there

Not only was he acadmically gifted, but he was also musically gifted. Playing not only the piano (which he got lessons for) but also the guitar, the banjo, the bass, and the french horn which he got an award for when he was in highschool playing in a band made out of college students for some reason

Speaking of awards, he was once given an award for maths

This giftedness would later set him up for Gifted Child Burnout he had in college

Also he changed schools like a total of 13 times so that’s fun

He went to a private school but apparentl, according to his parents, he hated it (but he remembered liking it???)

Also, he made a lot of jokes in class

Remember Nicky? Yeah, Nicky would often write songs for him to sing and stuff (Nicky would later write songs for Peter’s solo album and a bunch of other stuff what a great brother we stan)

The family had some kind of barn once where he would do puppet shows his siblings

Anyway, school life was all fine and dandy until 5th grade hit and he changed schools and everyone lost interest in him because he was one year younger

Also his dad was apparently very disconnected with him. Needless to say, Peter felt like his father didn’t like him

Once when he was 9, he told his father that he noticed that when the clouds were around at night, it would be warmer during the day to which his father shouted at him saying that “he has no proof of that” and that he shouldn’t say anything without proof

This of course led him to feel like no one wanted to listen to what he wanted to say

poor baby

I think his father would have been the reason why Peter would later say in an interview that he hated “loud abusiveness” the most

He would also later say that a combination of his dad and feeling like he was weird and different would lead him to his drinking problem

So umm we dont stan his dad ok

Once when he was 13 he picked up a loaded shotgun and put it against his head. But he decided that he didn’t want to do it at the last second.

Overall, life from 5th grade till highschool was terrible for him

He didn’t have any friends in his school

So when he moved to a new school in Conneticut where he was surrounded with people of the same age, he was really happy all the way until college where he flunked out twice

Hippie Time (Honestly this part is just me talking about him and Stephen Stills because Steter Stirk changed me)

And so Peter became a hippie in Greenwich Village

In the Village, he became a sort of entertainer. Not just singing and playing, he was also a comedian.

And then he kept hearing about this dude who looked like him from other people.

This dude turned out to be Stephen who was also hearing the same kind of talk for about the same amount of time

Pete and Stephen VIBED im not kidding they started to play with each other and also Stephen’s room mate who was also there

Also it turns out that they liked to talk about the same things so that’s neat

Peter went to Venuzuela apparently and when he came back the Monkee thing happened yeet

Once when Stephen was waiting to move into his new house Peter was all like “hey dude live with me”

For a while they also lived in the same house when he was Monkee and if that doesn’t fuel any ship fics I dont know what will

Im serious the ship is here and its real I saw fics and fanart

Dont ask about Stirk

They played with the colour tv and would “pick apart each other’s brains” umm

Also Peter’s favourite band was buffalo springfield and we stan a friend who would say your band was their favourite band

And I think this is where my knowledge starts to fade because I haven’t really heard any cool facts from here on afterwards

Last Final Cool Facts

He was a teacher for quite a while and taught about Maths, basketball (despite not liking any sport except swimming) and Easter Philosophy,,,yes easter philosphy the man was into that kinda stuff

Also he was a big reader. Always having a smoll book in his pocket that he would read while on set with the Monkees. But he was particularly a non fic kinda guy

He would write poetry on the back of scripts

In the 2000s he said that his sister thought he might have ADD

Also autism but when asked about it he’d be all P E R H A P S

which is very unhelpful Peter pls give us a straight answer

I mean he cant give us straight answers because he was the gayest monkee (he fricked a dude once but he didn’t like it)

Hey look I ended on a gay note yeet. Thanks for reading this mess

#the monkees #peter tork #blood tw #death ment tw #suicide tw #i think that's all the tws #im finally free of this knowlege #i feel so good #just wait till i come back with a truck of knowledge in 5 months

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philosophersandfools · 4 years

Note

dude I’ve been reading and loving your fic The Collected and then I just looked at the replies to one of my posts and I saw you reblogged it and said I inspired you a little (not taking the credit at all just thought you were super sweet) and honestly I just wanted to say I love your fic and the whole Declan/Adam/Gray concept is just so intoxicating. I love it, bye ❤️

DUDEEEE I love how small the internet is!! I honestly think half of what I’ve written in TC was inspired by fanart or meta or someone else’s fic somewhere along the line and it’s awesome. Declan welding a shotgun for example was 100% inspired by Declan’s character in Wrap My Flesh In Ivy and Twine by @comicsohwhyohwhy & @toast-the-unknowing

It’s like we’re all crowd sourcing our creative fan works, and rather then getting mad at anyone for ‘stealing my idea’ or something it just hypes us all up more.

This fic by @toast-the-unknowing is the only other one that comes to mind where we get to see Adam & Declan & Gray interacting... if anyone has other fic recs my ask box is always open lol.

For folks following along at home this is the original post in question 😍

#the collected #omg i love when ppl message me about my fic

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deerskewl · 4 years

Note

2, 3, 4, 5, 7, 8, 10, 11, 14, 15, 19, 23, 25, 26, 27?

2. Favourite merc?

Don't make me choose :( but if I absolutely have to, it's Spy or Medic. For obvious reasons, I think.

3. Least favourite merc?

I don't want to say that I have a least favourite merc, because I love all of them, but..... I suppose I don't have as much of an attachment to Soldier? Which sucks because he's really cool I just don't hold him as much as I do the others?

4. Casual or Competitive?

Imagine being good enough at the game to play Competitive, this post was made by the me gang. Yeah no I play Casual on Attack/Defend and Payload exclusively.

5. First map you ever played?

I honestly don't remember, probably Upward? That sounds about right. Or uhhh Dustbowl?

7. How many hours do you have for TF2?

*quickly loads up Steam to check* uhhh that's 234 hours exactly :)

8. When did you start playing TF2?

I. uhhh don't exactly know? I got into it about 2016 but I didn't know how to play it— wait I can check my achievements uhhhh 2017 it seems! Whack.

10. Favourite song from the TF2 soundtrack?

I gotta be honest with you, I actually love More Gun a lot?? Of course all three of Medic's themes and specific Dapper Cadaver I love a lot too but there's something about Engie's theme that just makes me go :)

11. If you had to main any merc for the rest of your life, who would you choose?

Either Pyro or Sniper, actually. While I don't have as many hours on Sniper I think I could play him just as well, and I think both of those are the most versatile for me? Because while I love playing Medic sometimes you just need to go feral and burn shit down but also stand 20 ft away from everyone at all times and I already live in a constant state of anxiety I don't need to play in a constant state of anxiety as Spy.

14. How did you hear about TF2?

I'll be completely honest. I have no fucking idea. I think I just.... somehow saw one of the Meet The Team videos and went HOLY FUCK, combined with my cousin introducing me to the game?

15. Favourite thing about TF2?

Every part about it, it's fun. The game is fun to play, the characters are so interesting and wonderful, the ideas people come up with, the fanart and fanfiction is creative and brilliant. Of course I'm sidestepping around problems like the aimbots and the people with horrifically bad takes, but if you know where to keep yourself, then TF2 is just overall really nice and fun.

19. Loadouts?

OHH BOY OK. I'll go with the ones I have actual loadouts for sjdnjs:

For Pyro I usually have stock Flamethrower (Smalltown Bringdown Mk.II warpaint) or Backburner, Shotgun and The Lollichop for weapons, then Candy Cranium (painted A Deep Commitment To Purple and renamed "no braincells only candy"), Party Hat and The Sub Zero Suit for cosmetics.

For Medic I have the Blutsauger, stock Medi Gun (Night Owl Mk.II warpaint) or Quick-Fix, and Ubersaw (Smissmas Sweater warpaint) for weapons, and some combination of the Dad Maddendoktor, Madmann's Muzzle, Derangement Garment and Pocket-Medes.

For Sniper I have stock Sniper Rifle (Autumn Mk.II warpaint) or the Huntsman, stock SMG and the Shahanshah for weapons, and only Wagga Wagga Wear (painted Mann Co. Orange) for cosmetics :')

For Spy I have the Diamondback, Your Eternal Reward or stock Knife (Seriously Snowed warpaint), either stock Sapper or Red Tape Recorder (I really want the Ap-Sap tho,,) and the Cloak and Dagger for weapons, and........ no cosmetics lmao. I actually put The Spirit Of Giving on him because since I've never given any gifts it shows no heart on it and I just think that's really funny, and I was half tempted to put the Ghostly Gibus that I got while playing Pyro on him just to look like One Of Those Players but I ended up not doing it lmao.

23. Funniest moment while playing TF2?

I don't remember many but I think the best one was playing Medic on 2Fort, sitting in intel with my friend who was playing Engie, and just. somehow managing to mow down like three Scouts with just the Blutsauger because they just kept running at me in a straight line and whatever damage they dealt I healed near instantly. Rip to them but I'm different.

25. Favourite cosmetic? (Any class)

Honestly I love the pocket cosmetics so much. They're so cute!! I would kill for like. Actual pocket plushies in real life. I would like one (1) Pocket Medic please. And a Pocket Pardner. And an Itsy Bitsy Spy-der. Hold them soft and gentle.

26. Favourite voice line? (Any class)

LISTEN I LOVE ALL THE VOICE LINES SO MUCH but NOTHING will compare to like. All of Engie's voice lines. And Medics!! I love both of them. Engie's Bam Pow Bap with the Gunslinger and his I'm wolverine mean you son of a bitch and Medic's GET THEM, RAUS RAUS are such wonderful repeatable statements. Though nothing will be funnier to hear in-game than SPY_PAINCRITICALDEATH03.WAV.

27. Favourite weapons? (Any class)

The Backburner is a really fun weapon to play Pyro with if you're sneaky! Getting around people do deal critical hits 100% of the time is WONDERFUL, but only in certain situations because of the +150% airblast cost :/. I actually wanna try playing with the Thermal Thruster to be able to get behind people easier in open-air maps? And I think Your Eternal Reward is a good knife for Spy if you're like me and can't switch from knife to sapper quick enough to get the Engie and then the Sentry? Plus it works well with the L'Etranger and the Cloak and Dagger (in theory! I don't actually have the gun in-game I only put this together via looking at stats). Also the bows for Sniper are really good too, not just for Medieval Mode. I actually find it easier to use than the actual rifles at times but of course that means you have to get closer to the fight, and therefore closer to death.

#ask box

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maggiemaybe160 · 5 years

Text

Wandering Angel

Fanfic by MaggieMaybe160 on Ao3 Fanart by blueeyesandpie on tumblr (full photo is on my A03 fic!) MCD WARNING

Castiel sits with the small group of hunters. He had been summoned, but instead of a rescue, it’s a celebration. The hunters are celebrating and thanking him for coming to their rescues over the years. Right now, in front of the small bonfire, Castiel is handed a beer that he will not drink.

His eyes are watchful of the party around him and quickly drop to the ground when two people kiss. He sucks in his breath, the sting in his chest a reminder.

“Who broke your heart?” someone nearby asks. Their tone is half jest, but the words stab into the angel. His eyes close.

“Dean Winchester.” The entire party goes silent at the sound of the deep voice. The two words sound painful in his mouth. The first time any of these hunters hear the angel of tears speak, it is the saddest sound they have ever heard. A deep voice, scratchy with disuse.

“Please, Castiel,” someone says gently. “Tell us.”

There’s a heavy pause as the crowd waits, hungry for the stories that he’s reluctant to relive. He twists the silver ring on his left ring finger. It is the same ring that had once circled Dean’s right fourth finger.

“There’s a grief that can’t be spoken,” Castiel says, his eyes on the flames. It remains completely silent except for the snapping of the fire, the flames licking up toward the sky that the angel doesn’t dare look up at. Not anymore.

“There’s a pain,” Castiel looks over his shoulder where his hunter’s car is parked. The black is still gleaming, the silver accents still shining. The memories, preserved with his ongoing care of the now ancient car. “It goes on and on.”

The angel looks back at the full beer bottle in his hand and remembers the times that he sat in the Men of Letters Bunker at the table beside two of his favorite hunters. He remembers the small green cooler that was kept in the backseat of the beloved car, always a war between beer bottles and health smoothies. He remembers the clink of his bottle against Dean’s, the small smile on his hunter’s lips.

“Empty chairs at empty tables.” Cas whispers, staring into the empty Impala. He can feel the weight of the keys in his pocket. His seat in that car had been any but the driver’s. The driver was always Dean. Forever and always. Except now.

“Now my friends are dead and gone.”

Dean stares up into Cas’ face. His hands are covered in his own blood as he reaches for Cas. There’s blood bubbling up onto his lips as he gasps for breath. Cas can’t heal him. Not this time. He has Dean’s blood on the side of his face and in his hair.

“I don’t want to go,” Dean says. His eyes are filled with despair. His hand land on the lapel of the trench coat, right over Cas’ pounding heart. He grabs it tight, his knuckles turning white. “I can’t go where I won’t see you again.”

“You’ll see me again,” Cas promises, though he knows he’s lying. He doesn’t know when he had started crying, but his tears are landing on Dean’s cheek. Dean doesn’t seem to notice or care. “If they won’t let me, I will fight for you, Dean Winchester.”

“Cas,” Dean smiles.

“Dean,” his angel answers breathlessly. He clutches at the hand on his lapel. Their fingers twine together, Dean’s grip tight even as his face pales.

“I won’t go without you,” Dean chokes around the bood. He coughs weakly and Cas pulls Dean against him. They embrace, Dean’s head against his angel’s shoulder. Dean has his arms wrapped around Cas, his hands tangled into the thick dark hair. Cas is holding Dean against him, unwilling to let his hunter go. “I love you.”

“I love you, Dean Winchester.” Cas presses his lips against Dean’s, ignoring the metallic taste of blood. His hand is on the side of Dean’s face as his warmth fades. Their kiss ends, breath mingling between them, as Cas presses their foreheads together.

“Cas.” The word is a whispered, final breath as Dean leaves him, his body going limp in his angel’s arms. Cas sobs, shaking and silently begging for Dean to wake up.

“Here they talked of revolution,” Castiel says, forcing himself out of the memory.

He sees the bunker again, Sam standing before a concept board, explaining to the group from the apocalypse world what their world was like. He taught them new techniques and explained how they were going to take down Michael. His heart sits heavy in his chest. They called him Chief. Dean hated it. “Here it was, they lit the flame.”

“Here, they sang about tomorrow.” He recalls every time they talked about a world without monsters, a world that didn’t need hunters, a world they could retire in. A world they never saw. “And tomorrow never came.”

“From the table in the corner, they could see a world reborn.” With every soul saved, every monster killed, their morale lifted. They were winning no matter how many times the world attempted to crumple and die. They had been there time and time again.

“And they rose with voices ringing.”

Saving people, hunting things: the family business.

I’m Dean. This is my brother, Sam. We kill monsters.

Let’s kill some evil sons of bitches and raise a little hell.

I think what we have here is a miscommunication. We’re not stuck out here with you. You’re stuck out here with us.

Cas? You got your ears on?

“And I can hear them now,” His blue eyes close, his face becoming a mask of anguish. “The very words that they had sung became their last communion.”

“Dean, no.”

“I am your sword,” Dean says, stepping toward Michael. “Your perfect vessel. With me, you’d be stronger than you’ve ever been. If we work together, can we beat Lucifer?”

“Dean!” Listening to him is a fresh wound with every word.

“Can we?” Dean yells over Cas, obviously feeling the same pain as his angel behind him.

“We have a chance.”

“You can’t.” Cas wants to reach out and protect his hunter, embrace him.

“I don’t have a choice!” Dean yells back, his eyes locking with Cas’. They both ache, but he pulls away again. “If we do this, it’s a one time deal. I’m in charge. You’re the engine, but I’m behind the wheel. Understand?”

“Oh my friends, my friends forgive me.” His voice is weak. The intense blue eyes open again, filled to the brim with shining tears. His steady gaze is finally on the stars above him. He allows the tears to spill over, sliding down his cheeks as he looks at the stars, the sky, the heavens for the first time since Dean Winchester died.

“That I live and you are gone.” His voice cracks and he can feel his heart, already a broken thing in his chest, splintering again.

“There’s a grief that can’t be spoken. There’s a pain that goes on and on.” Cas’ head falls again, his tears dripping down the point of his nose. His hands are shaking. The bottle of beer drops from his hands and shatters between his feet. Where everyone else around him flinches, he does not. He doesn’t seem to notice his wet shoes or the glass sparkling up from the ground.

He steps down onto the glass, a cruel crunching under his shoes. He turns and takes a few steps away from the fire toward his hunter’s car. He chokes on a sob and swallows it down, yelling, “Phantom faces at the windows.”

Dean is supposed to be in that windshield, his hands on the wheel. Loud music should be playing. Sam should be sitting shotgun, fighting about the volume while he tries to study. They are supposed to be there, their faces behind the windows of the beloved car.

“Phantom shadows on the floor.” Dean’s bowed legs, long on his shadow self. Sam’s shadow slightly behind him making them the same height. He lets himself cry. “Empty Chairs at empty tables, where my friends will meet no more.”

“Oh my friends, my friends!” His heart is being ripped from him. He never should have opened his mouth. He’s dropped to his knees, his hand clutching at his chest. His cry echoes as he sobs.

“Don't ask me what your sacrifice was for.” His voice is raw again, a small sound that is wracked with grief and loss than none at this celebration could ever understand. Not truly. For they haven’t lost and lived on for a century with much more time to pass. They aren’t exiled from their lover’s resting place. They aren’t eternally alone.

They had sacrificed everything one bit at a time. Sam’s education and career. Dean’s life for his brother’s. Sam said yes to Lucifer. Dean said yes to Michael. Around and around with their imprisonments, demon deals, self sacrifice… and for what?

The Winchesters may have died, but the monsters persist. The world goes on because they saved it. They saved it countless times and for what? For monsters to pursue and kill? For innocent lives to be lost when their hunter saviors are too slow? For Castiel to watch it live, alone. Alone, dulling the beauty around him.

“Empty chairs at empty tables, where my friends will sing no more.” Castiel doesn’t bother wiping his tears from his face.

* * * * *

Dean’s hands are tight on the device that Ash had rigged up for him not long after he’d died. In the monitor, he can see Cas.

Tears stream down Dean’s face. “Cas!” Dean chokes.

Sam looks over from his seat at his brother. He runs over as Dean screams, “CASTIEL!”

“Dean, he can’t hear you. He can’t hear you. Dean.” Sam is pulling at Dean’s arms. Ash comes out of his room at the sound of the screams and rushes to Sam’s aid. “Dean!” “CASTIEL, HEAR ME!” Dean screams, the words raw in his throat. “I PRAY TO THEE, CASTIEL! HEAR ME! CAS, YOU PROMISED!” Dean’s fingers are pulled from the screen and he goes limp, sobbing as his angel currently is on Earth. “You promised, Cas.”

Thank you @blueeyesandpie

@telefunkies @qenericqueer @ain-t-bovvered @adventurous-blob @royalrowena @iamcharliebradburylevelperfect @deanwinchesterswitch @righteouscomeuppancejogstheliver @castibella-shipper-of-the-lord @destielhoneybee @k-lewis @thekingofselfloathing @skittles-rainbow-cat @awkward-penguin-in-a-trenchcoat @spn-thot @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @destiel-honeypie @soloarcana @fandomismymiddlename @lily-t2019 @anarchiana @samatedeansbroccoli

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richiefuckfacetozier · 7 years

Text

Chapter 5: Heroes

Story: It’s Not My Fault

Note: @slashpalooza made this fanart as a Valentine’s gift to me. Love you Alex!

Title - Heroes by David Bowie

That’s right friends a Loser’s car trip with Reddie.

It can also be found on Archive of our own

For other chapters - | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 |

“Eddie, my precious snicker bar! Let’s get going.” Richie implored. Richie’s new bit of the week was to call Eddie different candies. Eddie thought it was kind of funny and just proved Richie only ever thought about sugary sweets.

Eddie had spent the last 20 minutes packing what felt to Richie and Stanley like all his belongs. He was really worried about forgetting something important.

“I am just making sure I packed everything and did not miss anything,” Eddie said looking at his list for the billionth time.

“Eddie, you were very thorough in your packing,” Stanley said reassuringly. “You got everything on the list I made for all of you.”

“What list?” Richie asked lazily.

“Damn you, Tozier,” Stanley grumbled.

“We have to get on the road. WE ARE BURNING DAYLIGHT!” Richie shouted dramatically.

Eddie looked outside and could see Bill’s big blue van, affectionately called Mama, parked in his driveway. Beverly and Ben had gotten out of the car, so she could smoke. Stanley and Richie were supposed to be bringing Eddie’s stuff down so they could get on the road, but this was proving a challenge. “Shit!” Eddie went into overdrive grabbing the rest of his supplies.

“Richie’s right, Eddie,” Stanley said glancing at his watch. “Driving in the dark will not be fun.”

Richie and Eddie looked at Stanley horrified. Then Richie’s face broke out into a huge smile, “We all heard it. Stan the man Uris said I was right. Let it be known. Let it be written! Hell, tattoo it on my arm.”

“Shut the fuck up, Richie,” Stanley said. “But seriously, we have to get on the road. I scheduled out the trip down to the minute and you are holding us back 22 minutes now.”

“Yes, ok fine! Let’s go.” Eddie grabbed his backpack and toiletry bag, while Stanley picked up his suitcase. Richie grabbed Eddie’s dad’s skiing gear. Eddie wanted to rent his own at the skiing range, but his mom insisted he take them since they were collecting dust at this point. It was hard for Eddie to think about his father. Sometimes, he wondered how his life would have gone if his dad had not died. Maybe his mom would be less protective and they would be happier. Then he would feel guilty for feeling this way when his mom had tried to do the best she could with a terrible situation.

“I like your dad’s skis. They are so cool.” Richie said admiring the black skis with hand painted stars on them. Eddie smiled at him as they made their way downstairs. Fortunately, his mom was out today. They had been arguing every day about him going on this trip. She got fed up with a final plea last night. Eddie did not back down once, even if his mind wanted to give in. He knew Richie would be really disappointed if he did that to them.

Eddie held the door open for Richie and Stanley. “We are only going to be gone a weekend, Eddie!” Ben said shaking his head. “We still need to fit Mike’s stuff.”

“You’re our resident architect, Benny boy. So start architecturatoring and fit all the stuff in Bill’s car!” Richie put the skis under the tarp on the roof.

Stanley fixed him with an exasperated look, “Architecturatoring is not a word, you idiot.”

“How does Richie get better grades than all of us?” Ben teased.

“My theory is he has a photographic memory,” Eddie grumbled. “I call shotgun!”

“Challenge!” Richie yelled. The two of them flew at the passenger door handle. Bill’s head shot up to watch them shoving each other. He was sitting in the driver's seat looking at the map but raised it slowly to hide behind. Eddie wiggled his way in front of Richie and wrenched the door open, trying to climb in.

“G-g-guys...chill. Don’t hurt, Mama. She’s a sensitive car.” Bill said nervously at their squabble. Richie caught Eddie’s legs to pull him out before he could sit down.

Eddie yelled trying to free his legs, “I get car sick!” Eddie complained while kicking at Richie. He had managed to turn Eddie around, but Eddie was holding onto the door frame for dear life.

“You lie, dear lollipop! You just get so nervous when others drive you that you make yourself sick.” Richie was grinning smugly because he knew Eddie would not be able to hold on for very much longer.

“Same difference!” Eddie could feel his hands start to slip. “Fuck.”

“This is not how I pictured getting between your legs for the first time,” Richie laughed crudely. Every single loser groaned at the horrible innuendo.

Eddie aimed a well-placed kick to Richie’s chest for revenge. The lanky boy stumbled back rubbing at the new pain. Eddie slammed the door and locked it, then rolled down the window to stick his tongue out. “HA! Suck it, Richie!”

“Buy me dinner first,” Richie choked out as Eddie flipped him off. “You kicked me! The jelly bean of my eye kicked me.” Richie was in total shock.

Stanley glared at them, “You deserved it.” He checked his watch again. “Get in the fucking car everyone. We need to get Mike. I’ll sit behind Bill since I am navigating.”

Bill and Eddie looked at each other anxiously from inside the car. Ben, Beverly, and Richie stood staring at Stanley in surprise.

“Stan...is that such a good idea?” Beverly said hesitantly.

He looked at her incredulously, “Why wouldn’t it be? It’s my family’s place, I know how to get there.”

Ben piped up, “Sure, it's just that...when you are under pressure...you kind of…” Stanley’s gaze darkened and Ben lost his courage to continue.

“That is to say,” Beverly tried to explain sensitively, “When you have to be in charge of directions you...it’s just…”

Richie interrupted because this was taking too long, “What Benverly are so eloquently trying to say is YOU have a terrible sense of direction, will get us lost, then freak the fuck out in a typical Stan the Man way. Eddie should navigate.”

“Don’t bring me into this,” Eddie said warningly from his seat.

Bill leaned over Eddie to speak out the passenger window. “Eddie can just do it, Stan. He’s a really good n-n-navigator.”

Stanley gapped at all of them trying to hide his hurt, “I will not freak out! And I can read a stupid map, Bill!” Stanley went to Eddie’s window and grabbed the map from Bill’s hand.

“I’m n-n-not s-s-sayin yuh-yuh-you can’t…” Bill always stuttered worse when people were upset at him.

“I will be perfectly fine to navigate, stuttering Bill. Let’s GO!” Stanley stormed to the other side of the car. Eddie saw Bill flinch at the harsh use of his usually endearingly spoken nickname. Bill leaned back in his seat looking straight ahead.

“So excited to spend the weekend with my besties!!” Richie cheered sarcastically. “We are so good at communication.”

“Beep beep, Richie,” Beverly said quietly. “I’m going to sit in the middle because I get a bit car sick on long rides if I can’t look forward.”

“I call next to Bev!” Riche yelled. They put the back seat down so Ben could climb into the way back. Eddie tried to glance at Stanley for reassurance that he was not too mad, but his face was hidden behind the map. Beverly gingerly sat down in the middle seat beside Stanley, as Richie squished next to her slamming the door.

Eddie saw Beverly slowly place her hand on Stanley’s arm. He tensed, then folded up the map taking a deep breath, “I’m sorry, Bill.”

“All good,” Bill shrugged and the subject was dropped for now. “Play some muh-music Eddie.” He started the car and drove out of the driveway.

Eddie went into his CD holder, “What do we want to listen too?”

“AC/DC!” Richie shouted.

“Joan Jett!” Beverly countered.

“Journey!” Ben said.

“I’d listen to some Journey.” Stanley agreed.

“Alright, Journey before Mike gets here and judges us.” Eddie popped in the CD.

“I’m judging us.” Richie pointed out.

“We’ve got 4 and a half hours in this car together. I will only be judging us.” Stanley said smiling as the rest of them laughed.

They got to Mike’s place and Ben worked to fit everything in the car. It was jam-packed with their bags, coolers for drinks, and snacks galore. They said goodbye to Derry and were off on their adventure.

HOUR 1:

“I want to listen to Michael Jackson.” Mike pretested. Currently, the car was filled with AC/DC music.

“No Mike, we always listen to Michael,” Beverly said. “How about Tears for fears?”

“THRILLER!!!” Mike sang.

“That’s such a spooky song,” Ben said.

“It's close to midnight and something evil's lurkin' in the dark,” Mike kept singing. Eddie turned in his seat so he could look back at Mike. He was giving Ben crazy eyes, which made everyone laugh.

Ben giggled nervously, “We should be listening to Christmas music, it is December.”

“That’s not fair to Stan.” Beverly pointed out patting his hand.

“It doesn’t matter much to me-”

Mike put his hands on Stanley’s shoulders, startling the poor guy. “Under the moonlight you see a sight that almost stops your heart.”

“You just about stopped my heart,” Stanley put his hand on his chest.

“Gay,” Richie said.

Eddie smacked Richie’s leg and watched as Mike removed his hands from Stanley’s shoulders then unbuckled his seatbelt. Eddie shook his head about to say something when Mike sang louder, “You try to scream but terror takes the sound before you make it,” Mike crawled half over the backseat between Stanley and Beverly.

“Mike!” Stanley yelled, “Put your seatbelt back on!”

“Sit down Mike!” Bill said harshly glaring at the rearview window. Eddie watched Ben struggle to pull Mike back but the taller and stronger boy would not budge.

Mike’s voice was drowning out the AC/DC music at this point, “You start to freeze as horror looks you right between the eyes, YOU’RE PARALYZED!” Everyone was shouting at Mike to sit down, except Richie who had joined in singing.

“JUST PUT THE SONG ON EDDIE!” Stanley shouted looking at him with terrified eyes. Stanley, Ben, and Beverly managed to yank Mike back into his seat. Stanley hurriedly buckled Mike as the guy just laughed at his friend.

Eddie went into his CD case, took out his Michael Jackson Disc and popped it in the player blasting Thriller.

“Don’t do that,” Stanley said berating Mike.

“Aw, Stan! You care so much for me. Now shush! The king of R&B is singing.” Mike and Richie sang thriller doing the dance moves in their seats.

They kept listening to Michael Jackson but when Billie Jean came on, Richie was getting bored. “Why is every love song so fucking straight,” Richie complained.

Beverly laughed, “Rich, I keep telling you to give David Bowie a chance.”

“No, I refuse.”

“You have no reason to not like him. You just don’t because he’s different from other rockers.” Eddie huffed out.

“I am not that shallow, Eds.”

“Don’t—“

Beverly interrupted, “Richie you are a self-proclaimed bisexual man, you should try to listen to him!”

“Just because Bowie is bi doesn’t mean I’ll like his music,” Richie argued.

“I always thought Richie was Eddie sexual,” Mike said aloud.

“MIKE!” Eddie yelled horrified as he buried his red face in his hands. Everyone laughed and Eddie heard a hive-five behind his seat.

“Anywayyyy,” Beverly continued, “He’s so provocative and incredible. Please, let’s listen to one song.”

Richie considered it for a moment then conceded, “Fine. Put him on.”

“WHAT!” Eddie spun in the passenger seat. The seat belt prevented him from turning fully. “Ow,” He gasped rubbing at where the belt jabbed into his neck. He went to unbuckle his seatbelt so he could look at Richie properly.

Stanley reached forward and put his hand firmly over Eddie’s hand. Eddie glared at him viciously. “What the hell, Stan?”

Stanley did not back down or remove his hand, “You aren’t pulling a Mike. Only one of us can give heart attacks over seat belt behavior. Keep it on!” They kept staring daggers at each other until Stanley slowly removed his hand, ready to prevent Eddie from unbuckling if he had too.

Richie leaned over Beverly to make eye contact with Eddie and give a shit-eating grin, “Here’s my beautiful face for you to yell at, you tasty gummy bear.”

Eddie’s gaze sharpened on him, “I spent HOURS trying to convince you to listen to Bowie but you kept stubbornly refusing. Beverly barely even tried.”

“Beverly’s my best friend, you're my boyfriend. Not listening to you is my job. Keeps your ego in check.” Beverly laughed behind him. She pushed his head down so she could make innocent eyes at Eddie.

“Un-fucking-believable.” Eddie turned back to face front. Richie poked his side and he jumped reflexively.

“Put it on, marshmallow.” Richie cooed. “Give me some of that sweet Bowie sound.”

Eddie blushed as the rest of the car laughed at them. He grabbed his CD case and put in his David Bowie mix. He scrolled to the best song he could think of and let it play.

The smooth rock sound began with a clever rhythm. Everyone stayed silent to listen. Eddie lip-synced along to the words.

“I, I will be king

And you, you will be queen

Though nothing, will drive them away

We can beat them, just for one day

We can be heroes, just for one day...”

Eddie heard, “I love this songggg.” From Ben in the back but someone shushed him so Richie could really focus.

“...We can be heroes

Just for one day

We can be heroes…”

When the song ended Richie immediately said, “THAT IS LITERALLY OUR LOSER CLUB THEME SONG. PLAY IT AGAIN.”

Bill laughed, “You s-s-said Africa by Toto was our them-m-me song last week.”

“I spoke too soon! I have now been blessed with Bowie’s Heroes. EDDIE PLAY IT AGAIN!” Richie grabbed his sides to poke him repeatedly.

“Do...Not...Richie...don’t!” Eddie was trying to hold back laughs as he was tickled. “I’m pressing play! Chill dipshit.”

HOUR 2:

“Beverly, did you pack cigarettes?” Richie asked worriedly.

“Yes, I...wait...Richie, I left them on my dresser.” Beverly moaned.

“Fuckkkkkkkk.”

“This will be good for you two,” Ben said encouragingly. “You both have talked about quitting.”

“Not cold turkey!” Richie whined. Eddie was watching the road carefully and saw as Bill drove past where they were supposed to merge.

“Hey, Stan…” Eddie said anxiously. He turned his head to look at Stanley. His curly head was buried in the map, hands shaking a little, and legs fidgeting. Eddie and Beverly made eye contact both thinking the same thing.

“What,” Stanley said barely controlled.

“I think we were supposed to get on the other highway just now.” He said with caution.

“We’re lost.” Richie guessed.

“We are not!” Stanley brought down the map to glare at Richie.

“Let go of your pride and give Eddie the map,” Richie said with a casual tone. He truly lacked any tact.

“I am not being prideful!” Stanley defended. "And we are not lost!"

“Get off here, Billy,” Eddie interjected. “We need to turn around.”

“How do you even know that?! I have the map.” Stanley huffed.

“Memorized it,” He really did not want to fight with Stanley but he was not going to let them get lost.

“You’re all against me!” Stanley roared.

“No we aren’t Stan,” Mike’s calm voice came from the back. “I trust you with my life and you are amazing at many things. Directions just aren’t your strong suit.”

Eddie expected another explosion but it was completely silent. Then he felt the map being shoved into his hands. He looked back at Stanley as the boy crossed his arms and stared out the window frowning.

“Let’s play a car game!” Beverly said to break the tension.

“What game?” Bill asked a forced cheeriness.

“Padiddle!” Richie yelled excitedly. “It’s the best game!”

“Padiddle only works if we can see taillights are out. The sun is still out, so you can’t really tell.” Stanley pointed out. There was only a little bite to his voice, maybe he did not want to stay mad.

“And I am not striping in front of everyone for padiddle,” Eddie added over his shoulder.

“Only for me,” Richie laughed.

“Shut up, Richie!”

“I’ve got one.” Ben jumped in. “I used to play it with my mom. You look into other cars and make up stories about what might be going on. Someone starts it then it goes to a new person to continue the story. Does that make sense?”

“Start us off Ben,” Beverly insisted.

Ben cleared his throat, “Alright, see the car on the right a little ahead of us? There are three teenage girls inside.” Eddie turned to see a red jeep with the three girls. “Tiffany, Tamera, and Tina decided to run away from home because everything was becoming too overwhelming...”

Mike spoke up, “So they packed up everything they could and took to the road not looking back. However, Tina had a secret...”

“That secret was um…” Stanley hesitated, “That she wanted to marry Tamera and Tiffany’s older brother Terri. He was planning to meet them in Vegas in a week so they could get hitched...”

Beverly continued, “Tamera and Tiffany would later be enraged that their friend would lie to them and make a plot to get even...”

“They would lure Terri and Tina into a false sense of security,” Richie said in a spooky voice. “By saying the wedding was a great idea but really they were going to kill them both for their treachery...”

Eddie piped up, “The murder would be slow and painful. However, Terri and Tina found out about the murder plot and decided to plan their own murder!”

“The wedding was a mess of murder and chaos and only one of them survived. The end.” Bill finished.

“Bill,” Ben said, “What the fuck, who survived?”

“Yeah!” Richie hit Bill’s shoulder, “You can’t leave it there.”

“You’ll never know.” Bill grinned.

Stanley laughed to himself, “I’m more concerned that we turned it into a murder spree. Do we need therapy?”

“Definitely,” They all said in unison.

HOUR 3:

“Are we there yet?”

“No.”

“What about now?”

“Do you see us at the cabin yet?”

“When will we be there?”

“Richie, shut up.” Stanley and Richie had been going on like this for a couple minutes now. Richie’s constant stream of thoughts unyielding. “Eddie, make him stop.”

“If I knew how I would,” Eddie said lazily.

“Pull over Bill! I have to take a piss.” Richie said.

“Can you hold it another hour?” Stanley said frustratedly.

“No can do Stan the Man. When Mother Nature calls, you don’t ignore it. Just pull over—”

“Actually, can we go to a gas station so I can go?” Beverly asked.

“Sure,” Bill put the indicator on to get off the highway. Ben, Beverly, and Richie got out much to Stanley’s complaining.

“Get me skittles while you're in there!” Mike yelled to them. Richie gave a thumbs up.

“I feel like one of us should follow them,” Stanley said anxiously.

Eddie turned his head to look at him reluctantly. “By ‘someone’ do you mean me?”

Mike waved his hand dismissively, “Ben’s there, he’ll make sure they behave.”

“Ben has the backbone of a chocolate eclair,” Stanley said deadpan.

It took a moment for the joke to sink in but slowly Bill, Mike, and Eddie started laughing. They were cracking up so hard their sides hurt. Eddie was wiping away tears as he said, “You should have a fucking standup act, Stan.”

“B-but his only audience would b-b-be us.” Bill said turning in the driver's seat to smirk at Stanley.

“It’s the only audience he needs,” Mike put his hand on Stanley’s shoulder good-naturedly.

“Bunch of softies,” Stanley mumbled smiling.

Bill’s eyes shifted to Eddie’s window. He squinted with his mouth slightly agape. “Why are they running?” Eddie whipped his head to look out the window. He saw Richie yelling something; with Ben a little before him running faster than Eddie had ever seen him run; and Beverly taking up the rear.

“Richie is shouting something,” Eddie rolled down the window. His heart beating a little faster.

“START. THE. FUCKING. CAR.” Richie screamed. They were almost to the van.

Eddie looked to Bill, whose eyes were wide in confusion but he started the car saying, “Shit shit shit shit.” Over and over.

Ben got to the van first his momentum banging into the car then wrenching the back door open. He climbed into the middle seat saying, “COME ON BEV!” Out the open door.

Richie opened the front passenger seat door. Eddie was so confused he did not have time to process as Richie plopped onto his lap, slamming the door after him. Eddie made an “Ugh” sound at the surprising weight on his knees.

He tried to speak, “Richie! What the…”

Richie interrupted him, “Bill, put it in reverse, fucking be ready to go,” He leaned his back into Eddie’s chest putting his upper half to one side, so as not to squish Eddie. He could feel Richie’s heart beating a mile a minute.

“Babe, what happened?” Eddie asked trying to stay calm. He pushed back the curls sticking to Richie’s forehead, staring at him with concern. Richie leaned into the touch with his eyes closed taking deep breaths.

Suddenly, the weight of the car shifted as Beverly got in, “DRIVE BILL!” She screamed sliding the van door closed.

It was then that another voice could be heard through Eddie’s window. An angry vicious voice, “You shithead kids! I am calling the police!”

Bill was already putting the car in reverse then floored it out of the gas station and back on the highway. Eddie wrapped his arms around Richie’s waist tightly. Richie had his right hand gripping the grab handle above the door frame and his left on top of Eddie’s arms holding on for dear life.

Bill accelerated the car, they hit a pothole and everyone screamed as the car got a bit of air. Richie’s body lifted off Eddie’s for a moment then smashed back down on his lap as the car landed roughly. Eddie’s eyes prickled with tears at the impact on his crotch and he tried to muffle a scream as he instinctively tightened his grip around Richie.

“Rich,” Eddie said through gritted teeth, “Motherfuckingshitballs shift over a bit. That fucking hurt my dick.”

Richie chuckled, “Now’s not the time for dirty talk Eds.” He shifted to relieve him. Eddie pressed his face into Richie’s back, to hide his pained face and let the familiar cologne calm him down from a potential panic attack. Acting as a seat belt for Richie was proving terrifying.

“Someone explain what happened immediately,” Stanley said in a tone reminiscent of an angry parent.

“Not telling you, dad.” Richie responded immediately.

“Beverly and Richie are...are...IDIOTS.” Ben said in exasperation sounding on the verge of breaking down. “Sorry Bev, I don’t mean it but what you did was so dangerous and frankly careless.”

“I know I am so sorry,” Beverly choked out. Eddie could hear the coming of Beverly crying, so he tapped Richie to tell the story.

Richie got the hint, “Well as you all know...Beverly and I have an addiction to cancer sticks.”

“Already don’t like where this is heading,” Mike said from the way back.

“So just like when we used to swipe cigarettes as kids, we did operation ‘Flirt and grab’,” Richie explained.

Eddie shifted so his mouth was free. “Beverly, I hope Richie didn’t pressure you to um…”

“Whore myself?” She let out a small laugh even though it sounded watery from tears. “Don’t worry Eddie, I was not doing the flirting. I was not the man’s type.”

Eddie groaned, “Don't tell me…”

“That’s right!” Richie said passionately, “I took one for the team and turned on the Trashmouth charm. My flirting was going great and...”

“I somehow doubt that.” Stanley interrupted.

“Yeah Richie, you can barely flirt with Eddie.” Mike laughed, “You are a garbage can of Mom jokes, innuendos, and saying Eddie is cute.”

“That’s cause he’s the cutest!” Richie turned to kiss Eddie on the mouth. He did not reciprocate, peeved that Richie was even trying to flirt with someone else. “Don’t be mad at me, Laffy Taffy, it did not go in our favor.”

Eddie made a disgruntled noise, so Richie turned back forward trying to get comfortable against Eddie’s chest. Richie let both his arms settle on top of Eddie’s arms, which were still clutching around his waist for safety. Eddie put his chin on Richie’s left shoulder, their heads leaning into each other. “As I was saying, I flirted then Beverly snatched cigarettes while the foolish man was distracted. However, we did not count on him propositioning me, so I tried to shut down the mission too soon and the guy looked at his camera screen to see Beverly stealing. So I did the only sensible thing, hit a display of snacks to distract, grabbed Benny Boy’s hand and screamed ‘HAUL ASS BITCHES’.”

Eddie placed a hand over Richie’s mouth, “Inside voice.”

Richie pulled his hand away, “Oh! And nicked candy,” Richie reached into his pocket and threw a pack of skittles toward Mike’s direction.

“Thanks!” Mike said cheerily.

Richie opened his own pack of starbursts. He took out a red one and tried to feed it to Eddie. He grimaced, “Did you wash your hands after going to the bathroom?”

Richie rolled his eyes, “Yes, gumdrop.” Eddie let him plop the candy into his mouth, savoring the cherry goodness.

“Bill?” Beverly said nervously, “You’ve been quiet.”

Eddie shifted his head to look at Bill. His friend’s eyes were slits, brows furrowed and hands gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles were white. He was breathing harshly through his nose trying to stay calm. “I’m really disappointed in you guys.”

Eddie raised his eyebrows looking over his shoulder to see Stanley’s surprised eyes and Ben’s hurt face. He could not see Beverly with Richie’s body preventing any more movement but assumed she was none too happy. No one commented on the fact that Bill did not even stutter.

“We are sorry, Bill.” Beverly said in a small voice.

“I’m not, we got the cigarettes,” Richie shrugged. Eddie rolled his eyes toward Bill’s enraged expression.

“Suh-suh-sorry about this, Eddie.” Bill seethed before taking his right hand off the wheel and aiming for Richie’s crotch. Bill hit home and Richie yelled in pain. His body convulsed on top of Eddie as he put his hands over his hurt manhood. Richie automatically tried leaning forward but Eddie’s arms were a vice.

“Fucking hell, Big Bill.” Richie put his hands on both sides of his legs taking deep shuddering breaths of rage. Eddie rubbed his hands in slow circles above Richie’s stomach making shushing noises. This seemed to help a little. Eddie definitely did not feel sorry for Richie, he was always getting himself into these situations.

“Ok. We are even.” Bill said cracking a smile. The rest of the car exploded into laughter. It was about 20 more minutes before Bill asked if they should pull over so Richie could sit in the back again.

“No, I like sitting in Eddie’s lap. He never lets me.” Richie nuzzled his face into Eddie’s neck brushing his lips over his skin. Eddie’s mind began to swim at the distracting lips.

“That’s because you weigh too much,” But Eddie realized this was a weak excuse. He actually really liked Richie being on his lap. Ever since he was a kid, people wanted Eddie to sit on their lap because he was “small and cute”. It was different having someone important to him sitting so close. It actually felt very adult. Richie started pressing his hot mouth against his throat making Eddie’s pulse quicken. Richie ran his teeth lightly over the sensitive skin by Eddie’s ear then trailed wet kisses across his jaw. Eddie wondered briefly if Richie knew what he was doing to him. Then the lips smirked into Eddie’s neck and it was all too clear...Richie was aware of exactly what he was doing.

“Still think I weigh too much for ya?” Richie laughed into his ear. Then he shifted on his lap getting even closer to Eddie’s body making him gasp.

“Pull over,” Stanley mumbled. “Eddie and Richie are making me nauseous.”

Eddie felt mortified that he let Richie be so bold in front of their friends. His face was on fire.

“Just as I was about to give him a lap dance,” Richie laughed.

“Beep Beep Richie,” Eddie hissed.

“Also, does the car feel unbalanced?” Bill wondered aloud.

“Probably the extra Richie weight in the front,” Mike shouted.

“Everyone stop roasting me about my weight. Fucking rude.”

HOUR 4:

“Yep, the tire has definitely lost a lot of air pressure,” Ben said with a sigh, his breath showing in the air. They all stood around the wheel shivering from the cold. Richie was hugging Eddie and rubbing his arms to keep him warm.

“P-probably the p-p-pothole we hit,” Bill kicked the tire. “Mama deserves better than us.”

“You gotta use a straw to blow air back into the tire,” Richie suggested.

They all ignored him, “You got a spare?” Mike asked heading toward the trunk.

“Under all our shit,” Bill said miserably.

“Let’s work together to get it then,” Richie followed Mike. Eddie looked at him in surprise. He must feel guilty for being the reason this happened. Together they took out all their stuff that was blocking the latch where the spare tire lived.

“Oh good, it’s the same as the other tires. So we don’t have to get a replacement.” Ben said as him and Mike heaved out the tire. Bill picked up the Jack and lug wrench.

“Bev, can you…” Bill began.

“On it!” Beverly went into the glove compartment grabbing the driver’s manual.

Beverly, Ben, Bill, and Mike went to the front to start replacing the tire. Stanley and Eddie went to work on putting everyone’s stuff back in the trunk. Richie stood around smoking a cigarette giving terrible directions such as:

“You have to put your head under the car to get a proper angle, Benny boy.”

“It’s lefty hefty, righty titties.”

“Those directions are in Chinese.”

“You have to remove everything then quickly throw the tire underneath and pray to God it latches.”

Most of these joke made Beverly and Ben laugh but the rest ignored him. When Stanley and Eddie finished putting everything back in the trunk, Stanley said, “Since I don’t know anything about cars...I’m going to sit in the car before my ass freezes.”

“Rich,” Eddie said getting the attention of the crazy boy. “Leave them alone and let’s wait in the car.”

“Coming my Reese's Pieces,” Richie cooed. He turned to Beverly, “The old lady needs me.” She put her hand up to her mouth stifling a giggle.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Eddie glared. “Just get in the car, you idiot.” Eddie got into the front while Richie hopped in the back.

Stanley was already sitting in the car reading his copy of The Shining, his legs under a blanket he got from his bag. Richie scooted in the middle seat, grabbed half the blanket and snuggled next to Stanley, who promptly rolled his eyes but went back to reading.

“Stan the Man is so warm,” Richie said putting his head on Stanley’s shoulder. “Hope this doesn’t make you jealous, Eds. You are still number 1 cuddle bug.”

Eddie laughed, “I don’t get jealous when it comes to you.”

“Liar,” Stanley mumbled.

Eddie’s eyebrows raised, “Excuse me? What does that mean Stanny?”

He cleared his throat still not looking up, “Do you think Richie likes Bill better than me?” Stanley had raised his voice in a clear attempt to mimic Eddie’s voice. Eddie’s eyes went to Richie who was grinning from ear to ear.

“Oh come on,” Eddie said seriously, “I was like 10 when I felt that way.”

Stanley glanced up at him, “Stan, I think Richie has a crush Beverly. They always smoke and hang out. Richie knows I hate smoking, so they don’t invite me.”

Eddie crossed his arms, “14! I bet you can’t find a recent example.”

The trunk opened with a gust of cold wind, as Mike and Ben tossed the supplies and old tire in the back. Bill opened the driver’s side door and Beverly opened the back door to bring the seat down for the guys to pile in.

“Hey Bill, what did Eddie say to you a couple months ago about Richie being neglectful?” Stanley asked mischievously.

Bill looked at Eddie with a cheeky grin, “That Richie is neglectful b-because ‘he never hangs out with m-m-me anymore. I thought we were d-dating. He hangs out with everyone more than me. Don’t people d-dating see each other all the t-t-time? I miss him’.”

“That was at the beginning of our relationship!” Eddie said in horror. Richie had doubled over with laughter laying sideways on Stanley who had the biggest smirk on his face.

“But Eddie, you see each other every single day.” Beverly chimed in.

“I-I well...I mean…” Eddie did not know what he meant. This conversation was starting to be really embarrassing.

“I got one!” Mike said jumping into the way back with Ben following behind him. Beverly got in letting Richie stay in the middle seat. Bill started the car and they were back on course.

“Shut it Mike!” Eddie seethed glaring at his friend.

“No…” Richie said between laughs. “Please go on Mikey!”

“Last week, Eddie found out that a girl in homeroom likes Richie. So he made sure she knew you two were seeing each other by kissing in front of her locker the next day.”

“Traitor!” Eddie screeched.

“You said you were kissing me in public because I looked hot that day!” Richie said in mock hurt.

“Eddie thinks he plays it cool. It’s all an act.” Bill chuckled.

“I looked up to you once!” Eddie punched Bill’s shoulder.

“Eddie, it’s funny come on…” Stanley said through tears in his eyes.

Eddie pointed at Stanley, “JUDAS!” Everyone’s laughter got stronger.

“That’s it, I’m going to make this weekend unbearable for all of you. You think Richie and I were gross earlier? Just wait.” Eddie turned forward and opened the map harshly to make sure they were on the right track. “Beware my revenge bitches.”

“Do I get a say in this?” Richie asked poking Eddie's side. Everyone had quieted down a little at Eddie’s threat but were still cracking up.

Eddie frowned, “No, you’ll take my PDA and like it.”

“Fine by me, my jawbreaker.”

“Gross, I hate you.”

“Whatever you say, sweet tart.”

#Reddie #Eddie Kaspbrak #richie tozier #bill denbrough #beverly marsh #stanley uris #ben hanscom #mike hanlon #TheTheatregal Reddie Fanfiction #fanfic #it 2017 #kissing #gay #cursing #the losers club #i am a loser #It's Not My Fault #Shannon writes

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pugszler · 2 years

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21, 28, and 60? For the ask game

21. obsession from childhood?

kingdom hearts. it was truly my first hyperfixation and bc i was a child i did not understand the concept of "toning it down" so i was very loud and excitable and obnoxious about how much i loved the game (we're only talking about the first one here yall) and i could never Shut Up about it and i basically scared a lot of friends and classmates away bc as soon i found out that they played, or let alone knew about, the game i would hassle them endlessly about what they liked about the game and what their favorite world was and do you need help beating this one boss here let me write you an extremely in-depth three page walkthrough on how to do it right.

i also technically started writing fan fiction bc of kh (albeit the stories were in the form of screenplays/scripts more than actually written fiction) and i had a huge 2 inch binder FULL of weird funny stories and i'd try to get my friends to read them even if they didn't know anything about kh. i was also obsessed with a kh fan website that posted anything from news to game screencaps to forums to fanart. i saw my first ever slash fanart and my ignorant 10 year old ass spammed the comment sections that expressed how icky i thought it all was (i then proceeded to spam my weird fan fiction in the comment sections too).

i played through the game literally more times than i could count bc for several months after first obtaining the game and a ps2 i did not know how to save the game or what a memory card was and neither did my parents so i just kept starting new game every single day and played for as long as i could before i had to stop for the night and then i'd start all over again the next day (i usually always stopped around tarzan's world. don't think i ever made it to agrabah during these no-save days).

it was a chaotic experience for my elementary/middle school self getting into kh but honestly? it may have been the most Innocent of fandom experiences i've had and at the time i rlly was having the time of my fucking nerd life lmao. i still really love the first game to death (haven't played it in prob over a decade tho) and i have... conflicted feelings about kh2 (that's a Whole other topic entirely do not get me started) and everything else after those games and whatever the fuck happens in the fandom today all means nothing to me :)

28. five songs to describe you?

"F.I.N.E." - too close to touch

"lonely" - palaye royale

"american blood" - dead poet society

"S.O.S. (sawed off shotgun)" - the glorious sons

"the old me" - memphis may fire

60. if you were a character in an anime, what kind of anime would you want it to be?

ROMANCE ROMANCE ROMANCE esp the shoujo-y kind happy fluffy cute inspiring little to no angst happy ending ROMANCE

#thank u so much grace!!!#replies #ask game

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zaccomstockhuman-blog · 7 years

Text

I Found a Bunch of Money in my Neighbor’s Living Room

There was a quiet thumping coming from the apartment above me. I woke up and the sound stopped, but I heard an argument, no distinguishing noises to give a hint to what might be going on. It was annoying, but none of my business, so I did my best to go back to sleep. When it was quieter I managed to doze off. My sleep lasted only a few minutes, because there was soon more noise, this time louder. It sounded like furniture was falling over and hitting the floor. One of the people upstairs started groaning and the other was kept yelling something. I heard the word money come up a lot. There was a big crashing sound, then quiet, then footsteps through the house, down the stairs, and past my window to the building’s porch.

I went to call the police of course, but right as I had gotten out my phone I heard sirens coming in my direction. Several policemen and an ambulance arrived on the street outside and the police rushed upstairs. Watching out my window, I could see they had a lot of protective gear on like bulletproof vests and helmets. They were also carrying shotguns with flashlights attached, that occasionally shined through my window. I guess they didn’t know the perp had already left the house. After a lot of quieter commotion in the crime scene, a police officer knocked on my door. Opening your front door for the police is one of those things you never want to have to do. With the way I saw police, it was scary to open the only barrier between me and them. I opened the door. The police officer looked a little sleep deprived. She asked me to give my account of what had happened, so I told her about the noises I heard and when I heard them. Fighting around midnight and 12:30. The man who walked past my window was around 6 feet tall, the same height as me, and it was too dark to see what he looked like. She thanked me for my time and left.

I had known the guy upstairs pretty well. He was a weird guy, writing comics about random, strange, creepy stuff, and cooking mexican food to make his living. This guy - colin was his name - was on the surface a normal guy , but it was his personality and drug use that made him appear so interesting. My roommate and I met him for the first time when he came over to ask us if we were cool with him having a party. We live in an old house that has been sectioned off between first and 2nd floors to make two rentable apartments. We decided just to go to his party and have a fun time rather than tell him to keep it quiet or something like that. The weird college art major people crowd was the type of people to show up. I liked mixing with those type of people, although some of them were overloaded with their philosophy, art, edginess. So anyways, by the time it was morning the police were gone and I still had to go to work. My closet was full of stuff to wear. There were clothes. And a shirt. I liked that shirt. Well dang, might as well wear it to work. But there was my shiny white uniform.

The room where the front door of my apartment and the front door of colin’s apartment both intersect was cold, damp and a little foreboding. The door was open to the hallway and a strong winter wind blew itself into the room. Dang, that was cold. I had to turn my head away, and I when I did so I noticed: Colin’s apartment was wide open. There couldn’t be anyone in there - he was in the hospital, and he didn’t have a roommate. I started getting really curious about it. What did it look like in there? Did people clean up the mess? It felt like the wrong thing to do, but still, the curiosity got to me. THe next thing I knew I was walking straight through his house. It looked like some of the furniture had been removed, probably after getting broken. I was about to leave again, when I noticed something hiding in the air vent across the living room. The grate was hiding it, but I saw something was in there. I stepped closer to the vent and squinted my eyes right up on the grate. It looked like stacks of money. The vent was screwed on with only two halfway in screws. I removed them, and took off the cover. Inside was probably 12 or 13 stacks of money, filling up half the space. Probably left some space for air to keep travelling through. Was this the money the guy had been yelling about? It was hard to believe he hadn’t found it. Probably one of the worst decisions of my life came in the next 30 seconds. I thought it would be a good idea to take this money, maybe just to count it and see how much my neighbor had. It was $200,000. And there was a note hidden in between two hundred dollar bills. The note was on a crumpled and dirty sticky-note. It read: 45-23-16 . 907 Boulevard ave.

My mind went off thinking about what could be hidden at 907 Boulevard ave. There could be more money there , maybe a stash of drugs. I still had to go to work though, but maybe I would look at the place tommorow.

The corner of boulevard and rosemary st. contains an old run down structure of unknown origin or function. It looks like a gazebo combined with a bank. There is a bland two-story tall windowless block attached to it. I walked down the boulevard until I reached the corner. It was the same address. It confused me that the note would point here, where there wasn’t any place to put a combination lock on. It was a really sketchy area, at the bottom of the hill where the buildings were all run down and most of the stores were closed down, except for gas stations, pharmacies, and liquor stores. I was wary of walking through the place, but I really didn’t have much to do, and I consider myself a brave person. I started exploring the little building. I guessed that it really was a bank at one point, but that most of it was torn down. There was a small, singular safe right there on the ground in the old doorway. It was locked with one of those cheap locks you might see at a gym. I tried the combination. It worked. I carefully lifted the lid of the box. Inside was a bunch of my little pony fanart about some stuff that I would rather not share with anyone. Why this would be locked away in a box in the middle of an abandoned building I do not know.

The curiosity of my neighbor colin was, to say the least, racking my brain for weeks. After a few weeks in the hospital recovering from his injuries, colin moved back into his apartment and did his best to go about his daily life like normal. Apparently, the police had caught the assaulter a few days after the incident, he told me. I was a little skeptical about their detectiving abilities, but I accepted it. My stash of cash - now 197,000$ was starting to make me feel really quite bad. I knew that it was probably colin’s money. After a while when he had probably checked his vent, I heard him yell and run off. But I know that he thinks some affiliate of his attacker had gone back into his apartment and searched the place. Or something like that.

My friends and I were keen on making up theories about what happened. The most obvious one was of course that colin was a drug dealer and he just happened to have worked a long time and saved up the money. Some guy probably found out how much he had saved and decided to have a go at it. But something told me that there was more to it. Sure, we knew he had drugs in his possession. However, upon further review of the drugs he had: I found that there had actually been only a small bag of weed found in the apartment. I questioned myself, my reasoning to think that he was a dealer. Sure, that is the most logical source for a giant stack of cash in one’s vents, but maybe it was something else. Yesterday, I was taking the bus to work, when I saw a large man much similar to the person I saw out of my window that night. When I got out of the bus and followed him a bit, he ended up right at the corner of boulevard and rosemary. And he came out with the box. Maybe I missed something really important in there.

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