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occasionaloneshots · 3 years

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Club Mom- Losers Club

Sequel to Gang Mom (technically I’m writing them together so I don’t lose interest in my own writing.)

summary/blurb

words 557

Everything felt wrong that year, seeing her on her own like that. The pink jacket that once covered her arms now abandoned, no one had seen it since before the, bowers incident. The old leather replaced by a green sweater that made those who took pity on the girl frown in her presence. Those who didn’t take pity on her however, let the rumors spread like wild fire. Some said she asked Henry to kill the others, a last result out of the friend group. Others thought it had been a trap for her that she barely escaped. There was even some of rumors that she planned to run off with Victor Criss and Henry killed him to stop it. And there was nothing she could do to stop them, because how do you tell the whole town that an evil clown possessed your first grade best friend to kill the other two? That would get her locked away with him for sure.

It was even more confusing when they saw who she was around now. The losers club tided to her hip and in ways, the group seemed to fit her more. The gentleness that once seemed to out of place beside Henry and Patrick made perfect since between Mike Hanlon and Stanley Uris. She still would carry snacks and band-aids in her bag but they changed, picking up new things and being careful of allergies she never had to worry about before. Now a spare inhaler would fall from her bag from time to time, obviously not hers and people just, knew. And then there was little things that made new rumors fly, just like back when she was with bowers. People seemed to believe she moved on to younger guys. It was in the way she would ruffle Eddie’s hair, the gentleness of her helping Mike by picking him up to carry his deliveries. That blue trans am she bought off Ms. Higgins being his god sent when he needed to run deliveries in the rain. It was in the way that Bill looked to her to relax when his stutter seemed to worsen and the way that she seemed to be the only one that could make Richie quiet. The times you’d find her in the library with Ben or the park with Stan. She was always there with one of them, many wondered if it was guilt, making up for what Henry did. But those rumors that she would be with one of them never truly faded no matter what group the girl found.

Everyone in town remembers the day she graduated, six boys all pretending they weren’t going to cry in the crowd next to her parents. And the day she left, no one out side of the losers club ever saw her cry that hard, and they hadn’t seen it since ‘89. Then it was University of Maine and moving to Atlanta. And for the first time, in her middle school classroom, Hailey felt at peace. Becoming friends with the aunt of one of star students who introduced her to accountant husband (who was truly a big help during tax season). And something about the two of them felt so safe and nostalgic, the friendship just seeming to click. But then there was the phone call, and Hailey Black realized she may never truly have the peace she craves. And she could never have a happy ending with childhood friends.

Hailey “Hales” Black

“I bleached my hair in college and I just remember thinking ‘He’d say you were copying him’ and to this day I’ve been trying to figure who it was. But, Victor, it was Victor.”

nostalgic (luvsick) - renforshort

“ Always thought that we weren't like the rest/But I guess the world knew we were bluffin'/Lookin' back, we were all that we had/How did that just go and turn into nothin'?/Now every time that I drink Jack/I get those flashbacks/And go down a rabbit hole.”

Richard "Richie" "Trashmouth" Tozier

“You see, that sign never stopped me as a kid, can’t stop me now. Dance with me, ladies!”

The story- Conan Gray

“ And when I was younger/I knew a boy and a boy/Best friends with each other/But always wished they were more/'Cause they loved one another/But never discovered/'Cause they were too afraid of what they’d say/Moved to different states”

Stanley “Stan” Uris

“You will be at dinner next week right? Patty will be disappointed if you aren’t. So will I, of course.”

27 - MGK

“What is a beautiful life without a beautiful death?/What is a beautiful mind, how is our beauty defined?/Is it for you to decide, is it my duty to die?/No matter how I’m remembered, just let me be remembered”

Beverly “Bev” Marsh

“They really did grown into a handsome group of old men, didn’t they?”

Love song- YUNGBLUD

“ All I learned growing up/Was that love chewed me up/Spit me out on the pavement” “ Sweetheart, you are/Changing my mind/Nobody taught me how to love myself/So how can I love somebody else?/There ain’t no excuses/I swear that I’m doing my best”

Michael "Mike" Hanlon

“You know, I always knew you’d end up working with kids, you were always so, maternal.”

Long Story Short- Taylor Swift

“ Actually/I always felt I must look better in the rear view/Missing me/At the golden gates they once held the keys to/When I dropped my sword/I threw it in the bushes and knocked on your door/And we live in peace/But if someone comes at us/This time, I’m ready”

William “Bill” Denbrough

“You know what Mister? She was fast enough to beat the devil.”

Almost is Never Enough- Ariana Grande

“ If I could change the world overnight/There’d be no such thing as goodbye/You’d be standing right where you were/And we’d get the chance we deserve, oh”

Edward "Eddie" Kaspbrak

“That’s going to take forever to burn”

favorite crime- Olivia Rodrigo

“ It’s bittersweet to think about the damage that we’d do/'Cause I was goin’ down, but I was doin’ it with you/Yeah, everything we broke and all the trouble that we made/But I say that I hate you with a smile on my face/Oh, look what we became”

Benjamin "Ben" Hanscom

"I mean, it's weird right? Now that we're all here everything just comes back faster."

Best Friend - Rex Orange County

“ I should've stayed at home/'Cause right now I see all these people that love me/But I still feel alone/Can't help but check my phone/I could've made you mine/But no, it wasn't meant to be and see, I wasn't made for you/And you weren't made for me/Though it seemed so easy”

#it movie #it #it chapter two #mike hanlon #beverly marsh #ben hanscom #bill denbrough #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #Reddie #stanley uris

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sewerfight · 3 years

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Okay in my controversial phase but the IT movie was a piece of shit cause it never had the guts to show Henry bowers in his hot pink jacket like he had in the book

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bumblebaby · 4 years

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coffee bean kiss

hi i finished this a little bit late but that is okay because i’m actually kind of proud of it lol. this is my gift for @s-onora for the secret santa hosted by @itfandomprompts! hope you enjoy it hehe

reddie / 2.6k words / good ol fluff / no warnings apply

Evidently, nothing about them has changed since old times. Not the humor, not the bickering, and… definitely not Eddie’s feelings. It shows in how they continue to bounce banter off of each other the entire way there, and it shows in how Richie holds the cafe door open for Eddie, giving him a bow and a “M'lady” that prompts the classic-Eddie response of rolling his eyes and suppressing a smile, and it shows in how the small action that was meant to be taken platonically still makes Eddie’s heart skip a couple of beats.

read it on ao3

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

The winter months are overall bittersweet if Eddie had to describe them in one word. Finals have been clawing at his mental state (and admittedly his physical state; the constant greasy takeout gives him the worst stomachaches) to the point where he’ll often pass out at 2 AM with a face-full of textbook. But the enjoyable parts of winter have mostly made up for it. He likes spending time with his friends, he likes the new Starbucks hot drinks, he likes giving gifts, and he likes receiving gifts – call him greedy for that, but the mini vacuum his mom got him last year that is perfectly dorm-sized has brought so much joy into his life it’s almost embarrassing.

The ’whirr’ of that vacuum makes its way around his earbuds and Freddie Mercury’s high notes as Eddie tries to clean up the mess that has begun to build up from a lack of care on both his and his roommate’s part. For how long Eddie has been cooped up in this room, he sure hasn’t been taking care of it. He never learned to juggle, and that was especially true of having to juggle his grades, his health, and his tidiness. But it’s whatever. He’s on break now. A twenty-minute break, but a break nonetheless.

He doesn’t hear the knock at the door, despite how loud and repetitive it is, and “Bohemian Rhapsody” continues to play on while Eddie stays distracted from the original vacuuming task and gently bounces on his toes and mouths the lyrics. It’s not until he notices the movement out of the corner of his eye that he turns around and flinches at the sight of Richie standing in the doorway.

Eddie plucks an earbud out and furrows his brow. “How’d you get in?”

“What?”

The vacuum is still going. Eddie turns it off and repeats his question.

“Your door isn’t locked,” Richie answers.

Dammit. Eddie props the vacuum against the wall and tosses his phone onto the desk. “I don’t have money to go grab lunch today. I’m on a crunch this week.”

“I wasn’t gonna ask to get food, actually,” Richie says, giving Eddie a tight-lipped smile and raises an eyebrow. “Am I not allowed to just want to hang out?”

“I dunno, man.” Eddie huffs and drapes himself over his desk chair. “Sometimes I wonder if you just use me for lunch money. Like a glorified high school bully.” Richie takes a seat on Eddie’s bed and the first thing Eddie notices is the mud all over Richie’s sneakers and how much he brought into the room. So much for vacuuming.

Richie chuckles at Eddie’s remark. “You say that like I didn’t try to crack Henry Bower’s kneecaps with Stan’s baseball bat senior year.”

“Keyword is ‘tried’.”

“Whatever.” Richie sighs and flops back onto the squeaky mattress. “There’s actually a new cafe a little ways downtown-”

“Did you forget the entirety of what I just said?”

Richie raises his hand. “I’ll pay, relax.” He strains his neck to look up at Eddie. “Maybe the nice, warm coffee will loosen up that stick in your ass.” Eddie scrunches his face at that. “It’s a short walk.”

“I have to study,” Eddie argues.

“Didn’t look like you were when I came in. You can spare an extra twenty minutes.”

“Okay, well, it’s freezing cold outside and I don’t feel like walking anywhere today.”

“…I’ve got to go awayyy-”

“Please don’t start singing.”

“I can be the Idina Menzel to your Michael Buble.” Richie stands up and takes Eddie’s hands, pulling him up from the chair. “I’ll hold your hands-”

“Richie-”

“They’re just like ice-”

“That should be my line,” Eddie finally laughs, letting his hands go limp in Richie’s.

Richie grins. “You sing it then.”

Eddie’s stomach flutters as he stares up at him. Glasses smudged with fingerprints, a couple of crooked teeth, light scruff spread across his jaw.

Shit.

Richie continues: “I ought to say no, no, no-”

Eddie giggles again and pushes against Richie’s shoulders, but the other pulls Eddie into his chest. “You are intolerable,” Eddie mutters against his jacket.

“We either stay here and sing a duet together or you can come grab coffee with me.”

Eddie squints at him, but there’s a faint smile stretched on his lips. “This a date, Tozier?” It’s joking, but… he wouldn’t be opposed to it-

“There’s only enough room in my heart for one Kaspbrak, and, I hate to break it to ya, it’s not you, babe.” Eddie gives a disgusted groan. “Come on,” Richie says, finally releasing Eddie and walking over to the door. “You still need a jacket?”

Eddie knows for a fact he has one of his own. “Sure,” he says.

It had been snowing all week up on campus. The few inches of what was leftover from last night’s storm crunch beneath both Eddie and Richie feet as they walk down the street, passing through the part of town with all of the small businesses. Eddie’s never been particularly fond of snow; it’s wet and it’s cold and his fingers go numb and having to warm back up is such an inconvenience. But he does have a lot of fond memories involving it. He remembers seeing the losers running up his porch steps after school was canceled for the day, and getting bundled up and going out to build a snowman after ignoring his mother’s protests about how he’ll get sick and to come back in as soon as his nose starts to run. His nose is running a bit now. He doesn’t give it a second thought.

Also, Richie’s sweatshirt is, unsurprisingly, too long. Like, way too long. The sleeves are a good couple of inches past his fingertips and the bottom hem is halfway down his thighs. It’s funny because Richie is ridiculously skinny, just ridiculously long. Eddie can hear the dick joke in his head. He’s glad he didn’t say anything out loud.

“Cold?” Richie asks him, his voice followed by a cloud that Eddie isn’t quite sure whether it’s from his breath or the cigarette dangling from Richie’s lips. Probably both.

“Duh,” Eddie replies, shuddering. He lifts a hand to take the cigarette and drop it into the snow, seeing Richie shaking his head out of the corner of his eye. “You told me you were quitting.”

“I said I was working on it,” Richie grumbles, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

Eddie bumps Richie with his shoulder. “Don’t get cranky with me. I’m looking out for you.”

Richie bumps him back. “The whole point of college is to be able to do whatever you want.”

“Not with me here.”

“Well, maybe I should’ve gone to California.”

“Pfft. You wouldn’t survive without me.”

Richie wraps an arm around Eddie’s shoulder and pulls him into his side. The extra warmth is graciously comforting. “You give yourself too much credit, Eds. I’m a big boy.”

“Yeah, right.”

“In more ways than one.”

There’s the long-awaited dick joke. Eddie smacks the hand dangling over his shoulder and Richie yelps in response.

They take their seats at a small booth by the big windows at the front of the cafe. There’s a good amount of people strolling through the streets, and Eddie notices a few couples, holding hands as they walk together. He has to pry his eyes off of them.

Richie sits with his back against the window and his legs sprawled across the entirety of the booth seat, propping the menu on a raised knee. Eddie gives him a funny look for it and only gets a shrug from the other in response.

“Whatcha gonna get?” Richie asks him.

Eddie skims over the options. He’s not really the type to branch out coffee-wise. “Mmm… the cinnamon latte looks good,” he answers.

“Lame.” Richie closes his menu and slaps it down on the table. “I’m getting a strawberry milkshake.”

“…It’s 9 in the morning and the middle of winter.”

Richie gives him a blank look. “And?”

Eddie lets out a long breath and places his menu on top of the other. “By 'big boy’ you meant twelve years old and not an adult man.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say.” Richie sits up normally and leans on an elbow. “So how’s that studying you mentioned earlier going?”

Eddie shrugs, sinking into his seat. “Hard, I guess.”

“You always do just fine.” Richie reaches over the table to pat his shoulder, and the touch buzzes through Eddie’s skin. “Fuckin’… smart cookie.”

“Thanks,” Eddie says with a forced smile.

The waitress takes their orders and then sets down their drinks after a couple of minutes of waiting. Richie asks for another straw for the milkshake, and the waitress initially gives a confused look but pulls one out of the apron pocket and slides it in Eddie’s direction before walking off.

“I didn’t want any,” Eddie tells Richie, pulling his mug towards him.

“Just in case.” Richie doesn’t bother with the straws at first and instead takes a sip from the rim of the glass, leaving a stripe of bright pink across his upper lip. “Can’t have you drinking from my straw. Too many germs.”

“Well, your mouth just touched it so you’ve technically already contaminated it.”

Richie wipes his mouth with his sleeve, but there’s still a bit stuck to the pitiful excuse of a mustache he has growing there. “That’s unfortunate.” He unwraps both straws and puts them in the drink. “It’s good, you should try it.”

Eddie shakes his head. “I’ll pass. You could be sick and that is the last thing I need right now.”

“I don’t feel sick,” Richie says.

“Yeah, well,” Eddie replies as he lifts his cup from its saucer and stares down into the foam, “You can still carry bacteria or viruses, or both, even without showing symptoms.”

“Thank you, Dr. K. They teach you this in med school?”

“You would not understand a word of what I learn in med school,” Eddie giggles, sipping from his drink.

“I don’t understand a word of what you tell me already,” Richie says. Eddie looks up at him from his coffee and he’s staring at Eddie with this… look, with a faint smile and raised eyebrows.

“What?” Eddie questions.

“What?”

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Cus you’re too smart for me, Eds.” Richie breaks the eye contact and stirs the whipped cream into his shake with one of the straws. “You’re gonna… go and be a doctor and do some great damn things. I mean, who knows what I’ll end up doing.”

“Rich,” Eddie murmurs, setting his mug down and giving Richie a gentle look. “You know you’re smart too, right?”

Richie shrugs. “Yeah, but… not in, like, a useful way.”

“Define a 'useful way’.”

The other lets out a strong exhale. “I’m not gonna be a doctor, or a lawyer, or any of that shit. I’ll probably end up a fuckin’ starving artist while the rest of you are out making six figures.” When there’s a pause of silence, Richie just shrugs again and leans back into the seat. “Whatever. Sorry to kill the mood.”

“You don’t have to have it all figured out right now,” Eddie tells him. “And I’ll be here every step of the way while you do figure it out.”

Richie looks up and warmly smiles. “See? You’re too smart and too wise for me. You got a coffee in winter and I got a god damn strawberry milkshake.”

Eddie laughs, reaching for shake’s glass. “You know what, maybe I will try it just to make you feel better.”

“That’s the spirit.”

They finish their drinks and begin the walk back to Eddie’s dorm. Eddie got a cheesecake slice to take with, since he thoroughly believes he deserves it after how hard he’s been working.

As they’re making their way up the sidewalk that leads to to the building, Eddie secretly prays that Richie doesn’t ask about the sweatshirt, as he’s realized through the thirty minutes of wearing it how comfy it is. It smells a little bit like weed if Eddie buries his nose far enough into the collar, but the faint scent of the cheap body wash and deodorant Richie uses is pleasant, Eddie guiltily admits to himself.

Eddie leads them up the steps and turns to Richie with a smile. “That was actually fun. Thank you for taking me,” he says.

Richie shrugs and returns a smile of his own. “Would’ve brought the others with, but they were either busy or asleep.”

Eddie chuckles, but he knows deep down how much he appreciated getting to hang out with Richie outside of a group setting.

There are a few seconds of silence alongside eye contact that Eddie knows holds something with meaning from how heavy it is. He can feel himself subconsciously start to lean towards the other.

“Richie-”

“Are you gonna kiss me?”

Eddie immediately recoils and he can feel his stomach lurch. “What?”

Richie’s shoulders visually stiffen. “Are you- are you gonna kiss me?”

“Why would I try to-”

“B-because like if you’re gonna kiss me I just-”

“-kiss you?”

“-wanted to warn you that I, um, I probably have cigarette breath and-”

“Richie-”

“-I have mints on me, if you… if you want to kiss me. If you want to.”

They’re staring at each other again. Eddie has a deeply knitted brow and the panic in Richie’s fair is clear as day.

Richie clears his throat after a few moments and begins to turn away. “I should, uh, probably… go.”

No, no, no, don’t leave right now!

The adrenaline spike is almost painful.

“Do you want me to kiss you?” Eddie chokes out.

Richie turns his body back towards Eddie, giving him a worried expression. “…More than anything,” he says.

There’s another pause. Richie blinks at him. Eddie takes a shaky step forward and places his hand on Richie’s cheek, the skin warm underneath his numbingly cold fingertips.

“More than anything?” Eddie echoes, looking up into Richie’s deep brown eyes.

Richie nods, and Eddie connects their lips.

The air is fucking freezing, and Eddie is dying to get inside. Regardless, he wraps his other arm around Richie’s shoulders. There’s a hand on his waist and another on the back of his neck, and when Richie pulls back a mere inch, his breath is hot against Eddie’s face.

“Your mouth really does taste like cigarettes,” Eddie quietly tells him. Richie tilts his head back and lets out a loud bout of laughter. Eddie giggles himself before peppering kisses along Richie’s jaw while Richie reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a little box of Tic Tacs, opening the lid and pouring way too many into his mouth.

“Can we go inside?” Eddie asks, snaking his arms around Richie’s waist. Richie waggles his brows in a suggestive manner, and Eddie punches his arm. “Not like that, stupid. I’m cold.”

“Can we kiss inside?”

Eddie rolls his eyes with a grin. “Yes, we can kiss inside.”

And so they do.

#hehe #mae's stuff #my writing #reddie #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #it 2017 #it 2019 #it chapter 2 #it chapter two #secret santa

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thefabulous-mostgroovy · 4 years

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YOURE TRYNA FUCKIN TELL ME

THAT HENRY BOWERS

HAD A

PINK BIKER JACKET

AND THIS WASNT INCLUDED IN ANY LIVE ACTION VERSION OF IT????

#henry bowers #it 2017 #it 1990 #it chapter 1 #it chapter 2

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morewyckedthanyou · 4 years

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Henry Bowers in the book has a pink motorcycle jacket and I must say (even though I hate that character's guts), we were severely robbed by both the miniseries and the 2017 movie.

#i want to see that pink jacket damnit #stephen king's it #wycked reads it

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bettercalllacho · 5 years

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I'm gonna see Nic at a convention in France in October ! I'm weak for the Bowers Gang and especially for Hen (Nic) and Pat (Owen)

I will be with my dear @shi-n0-tenshi

And there will be @ittakesmanyf0rms

So excited !!!

I want to made him sign the art I asked as a commission by @chrisfroot and also the pink eagle leather jacket of Henry in the novel !

#henry bowers #bowers gang #nicholas hamilton #dreamscometrue

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emulateharry · 5 years

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Five Weddings

Written as a gift for goseaward as a part of Grylesfest 2019 on ao3.

ONE

The sun was just past the zenith and starting its descent, splashing golden light on the gathering at the edge of the black sand. Nick stood at the end of the aisle with Pig and Aimee, who, by virtue of her online ordination by the Universal Life Church, was officiating. When the string quartet began playing Pachelbel, he looked up to see Meshach standing under a bower of tropical flowers at the other end of the long white walkway, Stinky on a leash at his feet. With a wide smile, Mesh began his slow walk past family and friends to his groom, Stinky padding proudly beside him. Nick looked around trying to fix all the details in his memory. He tried to look serious but could not contain his smile. He was getting married. On the beach. In Paradise.

Images flitted through his mind of all the years he thought this day would never come for him. First because it wasn’t legal (such bollocks) and then because he never thought he would find someone (not so much bollocks). Well, not someone that he truly fancied who fancied him back. He slid his eyes to his left, pausing on Harry, who was half-turned away from him. Harry’s expression was serious, almost stoic, as he watched Mesh walk down the beribboned and flowered runner. With a tiny shake of his head, Nick brought his attention back to the man he was about to pledge his life to. Just as Mesh reached Nick and Aimee, Pig let out one of her grunting barks, an inelegant sound that inspired her name, and the guests laughed.

“Meshach, I promise to love you as much as I do our dogs. From this day forward, I will lint roll the chairs whenever your parents visit. I will love you in sickness and in health, as long as you help with the vet visits. I promise to cuddle you as much as I do Pig and Stinky and to pick up treats for you whenever I get some for them. When you’re having a bad day, I promise to sit close by and nuzzle you until you feel better. I promise to be your biggest fan, to encourage you to pursue your dreams. I promise to love you enthusiastically and fiercely and forever.”

Nick’s voice cracked slightly on ‘forever’ but his smile grew wider, if that were possible, as he turned back to Aimee. She took both their hands.

“Today is all about love. It has been my honour to officiate your ceremony and now I get to say something you’ve been looking forward to. I now pronounce you married. You may kiss your husband.”

The kiss was sweet and hot and gentle and filled with promise. As they parted, Nick whispered an “I love you” that only Mesh could hear over the applause of the guests. Mesh pulled him into a hug and Nick tucked his face into his husband’s neck. When he opened his eyes he saw Harry standing and clapping but Harry wasn’t smiling like everyone else, in fact, tears were streaming down his cheeks. Alexa handed Harry a tissue and he dabbed at his eyes. Meshach released Nick and they both bent down to love on the dogs, who had been miraculously well-behaved during the short ceremony. Handing their leashes to Aimee, Nick took Mesh’s hand and they walked back down the aisle together, the sun still smiling on them.

The dinner reception was a blur. The toasting and the roasting and the champagne and lack of food, combined with the energy and anticipation of the day, had pushed Nick just over the line of intoxication. Mesh was dancing with Aimee and with Nick’s sister Jane when Nick finally got a chance to sit with Harry and Alexa, his suit jacket long since discarded somewhere in the room. Alexa was teasing him about the vows he had written while Harry watched quietly, a smile on his perfect pink lips. Nick recognised it as his public smile, not a real heartfelt expression of happiness. Nick knew that face better than its owner sometimes. His gaze slid up to Harry’s eyes and locked there. He almost gasped, those green eyes undid him every time. Even today, his wedding day, those eyes captivated him and drew him in. And he saw… sadness? What was that about? Harry quickly looked away, and Nick winced at the loss of connection, so he did what had always worked in the past to cheer Harry up.

“Okay, Styles. What’s with the teary eyes? I saw you blubbering away there.”

The flush that crept into Harry’s cheeks only made him more attractive, damn him.

“I always cry at weddings,” he murmured defensively.

“Your mum’s, Jay’s, Ben’s—no tears.”

“Not that you saw, Grimmers.”

“Mmhm. Well. Not today, Henry, not today!” Nick stood up and grabbed Harry’s hand, pulling him up too. “Alexa, be a darling and commemorate this auspicious moment of my wedding day...the moment that Henry Stars smiled.”

Harry’s lips began to curl up in the corner of his mouth, whether from the silly tone or the physical contact, Nick wasn’t sure. He reached up and squeezed Harry’s cheeks between his fingers and cooed at him. “Come on now, give us a grin.”

“Stop, Nick!” Harry barely managed to contain the giggle that threatened.

“Who’s got a pretty smile? Who’s got a pretty smile?”

Harry laughed at the silliness of the situation and posed for Alexa. At her “Got it”, he turned and hugged Nick fiercely.

“Wish you all the happiness, Nicholas. You deserve it.”

Nick felt his throat constrict and his own eyes prickled. He looked at Harry’s expression and could not help himself. He reached up to stroke his cheek. Later, he would put it all down to the high content of alcohol mixed with his blood and bathing his brain, but in that moment, the life that would never, could never, be flashed before his eyes. He felt a momentary stab of pain, a pain so great that he gasped out loud.

“Are you okay?”

“Cramp. Big toe. Fuck’s sake that hurts,” he said, bending down to massage the supposedly offending digit through the shoe leather. He hoped that the distraction had worked on his friends … and himself.

With the perfect timing of his profession, Mesh glided over and drew his husband onto the empty floor for a romantic ‘first dance’. Nick’s attention was thankfully fully captured, and he didn’t notice when Harry excused himself for the evening. Only later in the weekend did he realise that Harry must have left Hawaii early without saying goodbye, because he didn’t see him again.

TWO

Nick sat at his assigned table on the left side of the room. He was attempting to entertain Ellie or Emmy (or whatever her name was, Nick couldn’t be arsed to remember) while Harry was toasting his sister and her newly minted husband. It wasn’t easy because Elspeth seemed immune to irony and inflection and thus his humour was falling flat. He was about to try a knock-knock joke on the model when Harry returned at last.

Nick averted his gaze as she pulled Harry close and tried to choke him with her tongue, at least that’s what it looked like to Nick, and he swallowed down a retch. He reached for his glass of water and distracted himself from the show the waifish mannequin was putting on. What the fuck was Harry thinking? He saw the woman’s hand slide to Harry’s crotch and give a squeeze. Harry giggled. Ugh. Of course. He was thinking with his cock.

God, Nick felt bitchy today. Understandable, really. It had been less than a year since his marriage had dissolved like a fizzy pink bath bomb in a giant tub of water, and weddings still rubbed the wound painfully. Mesh seemed to be recovered and happy, he had moved on before the ink on the dissolution was dry. It was taking Nick a lot longer. It’s because you’re getting old. It was a constant refrain in his head, these days, a reminder that life was slipping away and everyone around him was settling down. Well, except for Harry. He was still happy sampling the smorgasbord of women the world had to offer him. And Nick? Nick couldn’t even get a decent date to a friend’s wedding. So unfair. Gah.

“Oi! Nicholas! Over here!” Harry was snapping his fingers at Nick after having extricated himself from the octopus.

“What are you on about?”

“D’ja like my speech? Michal almost choked on his champagne,” he said proudly and with only a slight slur.

“Yeah, Harold, it was really good.”

“I told Mum Gems would like it. Doesn’t she look great, Grim?” Harry’s face shone with happiness as he watched his mother and sister on the dais. He turned to Nick, seeking his

confirmation.

It took Nick’s breath away. That face, those eyes, the light of a thousand suns. The first time Nick had seen that expression was years ago, after the Brits. Nick was still on the Breakfast Show and him and Harry had stayed out until the wee hours partying. They went back to his flat so that he could shower and change clothes before work. Harry was a cuddler, especially when he was drunk, and he’d snuggled up to Nick in the car and it was like freeing himself from a koala to get them both into the flat. They were giggly and breathless and once the door was closed behind them, Harry had turned to Nick and kissed him. A soft, happy kiss. A taste of the nectar that ancient bards sang about. As first kisses go, it was perfection. Nick had been instantly sobered yet impossibly drunk on Harry. When they pulled apart, Nick saw Harry’s expression, his innocent look of adoration, and knew that nothing else in life would ever compare to witnessing it.

“Yes. Beautiful.”

Harry grinned at him before his attention was snatched away from Nick by... Dora? Nora? Nick watched them together and was puzzled. What did Harry see in her, besides the obvious? Yes, she was pretty in that cookie-cutter model way, but forget being able to have a conversation. Her IQ was south of 90 and her repertoire seemed to be limited to 5 or 6 topics on a good day, basically a troll with a pretty face. Meanwhile, Harry was innately intelligent and constantly challenged himself to keep his mind sharp. He was well-read and well-travelled and could conduct himself respectably whilst conversing on almost any subject. Nick found himself assessing the odds that this ‘relationship’ would last longer than a month. Not that Nick had any room to throw stones on that account.

Harry leaned over to kiss her, (what was her name? Philistia? Phlegm?) but was stopped by her finger on his lips. She had just applied lipstick and didn’t want him to muss it. Harry smiled and moved to kiss her cheek instead. Nick nearly goggled at her stupidity and swallowed a snarky comment with a sip of water. When one is given the opportunity to touch that beautiful mouth with one’s own, one never, ever turned that down. Yet she did. Several more times before the evening was over, in fact. Idiot.

Nick stayed through the first dance, through the karaoke, through Mr. And Mrs. Mlynowski’s well-choreographed departure. He had a lovely conversation with Anne, ate more than he should have and then pleaded a headache so that he could escape, escape the presence of so much happiness and hope. It was far too painful to contemplate, and watching Harry with, er, Consomme’ only added to the hurt and loneliness that he felt.

Nick was waiting for the valet to return with his car when he heard his name.

“Nick!” Harry was hurrying out to the queue line.

“‘M so glad you could make it, Nick.” Harry reached out to hug him. Nick hesitated for only a fraction before allowing himself to be drawn in. He let himself relax into Harry’s arms, let the scent of alcohol and spicy cologne envelope him. The brush of Harry’s lips against his cheek made him smile, his first genuine smile of the day.

“Call me next week, k?” Harry said, and then he was gone.

Nick was left stood alone on the kerb and the valet was holding the car door open for him, so Nick went home and watched ‘The Notebook’ and indulged in ice cream and maudlin thoughts of romance and impossibilities.

THREE

The breeze smelt of brine and freshness as it blew over the castle walls and into the courtyard. Nick lifted his face to the sun and enjoyed its warmth in the cool air. November 1. Samhain. A legendary good day to begin a marriage, the end of the harvest and the beginning of the quiet time of year.

It was early yet and he had come out to the garden to take in the beauty of the day and sip his tea. At the clink of china, he looked up to find Harry walking towards him carrying a cup and saucer of his own.

“Morning Nick. Beautiful day for a wedding.”

“Harold! When did you get in?”

“About 2 this morning. Had to drive up from Manchester. There was a mix-up in the travel plans and Glenapp Castle is not the easiest place to get to. On a side note, I’m looking for a new assistant.”

Nick laughed at his obviously false grumpy tone and stood to hug him. “Well, whatever. I’m glad you’re here.”

“I wouldn’t miss it.”

There was a certain gruffness to his tone that he tried to cover with a cough. Nick smiled indulgently and offered him a scone. They caught up for a few minutes, Nick laughing at one of Harry’s jokes and then falling silent. He closed his eyes and smiled, trying to catalogue all the emotions running through his veins. Happiness, joy, hope, and a bit of nerves if he was honest. He was grateful to have his best friend there with him.

“Where is Adam?” Harry asked, bringing Nick out of his reverie.

“Not sure. Sleeping in maybe. And it’s Calvin—you know that.”

‘Yeah, like my name is Harold or Henry Stars.”

Nick snickered. “Yes, Henry, my MUM asked about you last night.”

Harry shook his head, smile growing. “Will she ever learn my name?”

“Dunno. Got her so confused with Adam Richard Wiles and Calvin Harris—she calls him Dickie and that’s that.”

Harry laughed out loud. “Dickie and Nickie. I’ll have to get you some personalised pillows or some such.”

“Don’t you dare! By the way, I had the weirdest dream last night. You and I were running through my old neighbourhood in Oldham wearing kilts and trying to find all the sweets. An old crone was laughing at us and grabbed us both by the ears. She gave us each a coin, filled our sporrans with candy, and sent us out the door, whacking our bums with a broom made out of rosemary.”

“How much did you have to drink last night?” Harry asked with a laugh.

“Not enough for that kind of dream. Anyway, when I woke up this morning there was a sprig of rosemary and a sixpence under my pillow.”

“That’s really weird.”

“Oh, shut up Henry.”

They finished their tea and, realising the time, headed to their rooms in the castle to get ready for the ceremony which was scheduled for 1 pm. Harry got dressed in his room then headed upstairs to help Nick with any last minute details. Nick looked up when Harry entered and gave a low whistle. Harry was wearing a traditional Highland tartan kilt complete with jacket, waistcoat, a sporran and hose. He had a white lace jabot at his throat. His only departure from tradition were custom Gucci brogues. Damn but the man was beautiful.

“Are you…” Nick began but Harry interrupted him.

“Of course.” Harry turned his back to Nick and flicked up the edge of his kilt, mooning his best friend.

Harry greeted Aimee and made conversation while Nick recovered himself. Unlike his first wedding, Aimee was not officiating this one. Instead she was Nick’s best man, a role Harry would have been honoured to fill but he hadn’t been asked.

“So what are your duties Aimee? Hold the rings? Calm down the groom? Or at least one of them?”

“Yeah, Harry. Oh, I get to help with the hand-fasting too,” she answered.

“The what?”

“It’s a Scottish tradition. Cal always wanted to include it when he got married,” Nick explained.

“I still have no idea what you are talking about,” Harry said.

“Here, it’s like this Harry. Do you have a cord or a ribbon?”

Harry reached into his sporran and removed a banana, his mobile, and a Gucci tartan scarf.

“The scarf, give it to me. Okay. So you and Nick hold hands. No, both of them. Yeah, like that. Then the ribbon, or in this case the scarf, is wound around your hands and then tied loosely. A blessing is offered and voila’. You’ve tied the knot.”

She was grinning at them. Nick rolled his eyes and shook the scarf loose.

“It’s all bollocks if you ask me. But my fiancé wanted it, and I want to make him happy.”

“Well then, Nicholas, that is what you should do.”

***

Tuesday morning, headlines in The Sun and Daily Mail screamed about the secret wedding of legendary DJ Calvin Harris, nee’ Adam Richard Wiles, and television and radio presenter Nick Grimshaw. The happy couple was said to be honeymooning at an undisclosed location. The paps had been out of luck and only the official photos released by the happy couple were used. Harry meanwhile had been caught at Heathrow and dozens of shots were circulating the internet. Fans were disappointed that he was not smiling in any of them.

FOUR

“And Chris told me that Gwyneth sent them a gift,” Nick muttered conspiratorially to Harry before taking another drink of champagne.

“No! What was it? Poisoned fruit or summat?”

“It was a set of holistic linen sheets, handmade while the crafter thinks happy thoughts about the recipient. Oh! And it came with an aphrodisiac candle and some aromatherapy good mojo spray.”

“Did Alexa toss them into the rubbish bin?”

“No, she said she’d use them in the guest room. One of them at least.”

Their laughter was interrupted by the return of Harry’s date, Clarissa. She plopped onto the seat next to him and affected a pout. Nick used every ounce of his self-control not to roll his eyes. Harry had dated some vacuous women in the past but this one was the worst. He could not understand what Harry saw in her.

Avaricious, spoiled, and damn near anorexic; she wasn’t even pretty. Nick worried about Harry sometimes. Okay often, he worried about him often. As Harry got closer to his 30th birthday, and he’d just turned 29 in February, he seemed to be more and more restless and determined to find the perfect mate. It was like his biological clock was ticking or something.

Nick hadn’t been to his friend’s last birthday party. He had been in the throes of his second disintegrating marriage. It was all his fault, really. At least that’s what Cal had said just before he slammed the front door and then whooshed out of the garage never to be spoken to again. Why couldn’t he remain friends with his exes? Other people seemed to have no trouble. The only one he had managed to keep was Harry, and they had only dated briefly a decade ago.

Had it been that long?

They had both been so young. Harry had still been in One Direction and the Nazi-like management had nearly ruptured an artery when they found out he and Nick were an ‘item’. Harry had quietly listened to their ranting and threats and then turned and walked out of the meeting. He had gone straight to Nick’s and holed up there for almost a week, refusing to speak to anyone except Nick until his mother called him, worried.

Harry had agreed to attend a meeting whereupon the management dicks hammered at him again about ruining the brand until he threatened to walk away from it all. They had quieted down when they realiszed that this charming, soft-spoken kid was absolutely prepared to make good on his warning. Harry ended up giving them an ultimatum before heading back to Nick’s. Nick, who had been scared shitless for his boyfriend, was truly terrified when Harry recounted the relevant points of the meeting he’d just attended. All he could see was the glorious career Harry was prepared to throw away for him… and he couldn’t let him make that sacrifice. He told himself that Harry didn’t realisze what he was about to give up, that he worried that Harry would regret it and blame him.

Their friendship had survived the break-up, barely. Harry felt that his grand gesture hadn’t been appreciated for what it was: a declaration of love for Nick. Nick felt that Harry was too young to realisze what he was doing. They repaired the relationship one night when Harry was off tour with 1D and showed up at Nick’s with an armful of romantic comedies and a couple of bottles of tequila. They drank and watched movies and hashed out the hurts until the wee hours of the morning. Then they curled up in Nick’s bed and cuddled until they fell asleep.

The tens of millions of One Direction fans had no idea how close they had come to losing their beloved boys two and a half years before the ‘hiatus.’

When Nick had first heard Made in the A.M. he had been shocked. Though he hid it well at the station, he had taken the CD home and listened to one song over and over again. Though they had never talked about it, Nick knew that “If I Could Fly” had been written about him. He had spent the weekend drinking and crying over opportunities lost.

His rumination was ended abruptly by Clarissa’s long fingers snapping at him. “Wake up Sleepyhead! Do you want another drink or not? I’m going to the bar.”

“I’m good. Thanks,” he said.

Harry had been summoned by yet another friend of the happy couple to pose for selfies with them. Nick was watching him so intently that he didn’t hear Alexa swish up to the table. He pulled his features into a mask, but it was too late. She had seen.

“Why don’t you talk to him Nick? I mean, really talk to him. Tell him the truth.”

“Tell him what? That a forty year old man with two failed marriages fancies him?”

“Thirty-eight.”

“Oh whatever. Close enough.”

“You are selling yourself short. And you’re not giving him enough credit. You will never be happy if you keep trying to find a substitute for the real thing.”

What is this? Relationship advice from the woman who has been married for exactly…” he looked at his watch, “90 minutes?”

“Fine. Ignore my advice. But I know I’m right. Oh god, gotta run. Carlotta is steaming her way over here.”

“Clarissa.”

“Oh whatever, Grimshaw. She wants me to make her the spokesmodel for my brand. I don’t know what Harry sees in her,” she said softly over her shoulder as she hurried away to a group of friends and family to hide from Clarissa.

“No one does,” Nick answered, but she didn’t hear.

FIVE

“Calm down, Nicholas! You said it yourself. ‘Third time’s the charm’.”

Harry smiled at the groom fumbling with his bow tie. Nick stood in front of the full length mirror, shirt untucked and trousers unbuttoned, grappling with the piece of silk. Pausing again, he met Harry’s eyes in the mirror as he found another thing to panic about.

“Sam was subdued at the dinner last night. He wouldn’t tell me what was wrong. What if he’s got cold feet? Everyone’s out there—Harry I don’t think I can take the humiliation of another failed marriage. I’m a punchline now—even to myself.”

“Nick, it’s okay to have jitters before your wedding. Sam’s probably just excited and nervous just like you.”

“I need another glass of wine,” Nick said and moved to the table across the room.

“You might want to take it eas--” Harry was interrupted by Nick’s yelp of pain as he stubbed his toe on a chair leg.

“Shit, that hurt!” he yelped, reaching down to rub the offended appendage. “If I broke it, the shoes will never fit. Wait! My shoes! Where are my shoes?”

“They’re right here,” Harry replied with a smirk. Opening the box containing the shiny black oxfords he offered “Come here and tie your tie. I’ll tie your shoes.”

Nick walked back to the mirror and Harry knelt down, slipping the patent leather on the proffered left foot and tying securely. Maneuvering the right shoe on Harry grazed the stubbed toe and Nick howled out a protest.

“Hold still, it’s almost in there. Come on now, push a little.”

The door burst open and Nick’s fiancé barged in. He took in the sight before him, his brain jumping to a conclusion.

“Sam! It’s bad luck to see each other before the ceremony,” Nick’s voice sounded strained.

“H-how could you? On our wedding day?” Sam’s face was suffusing with red.

“What? What are you on about?”

“You know, you’ve called me his name at least a dozen times.” Sam’s eyes were looking dangerously moist.

“What? Who?”

Harry rose slowly and moved to stand behind Nick’s right shoulder.

“Last night even. You called me ‘Harry’.”

Nick stood frozen as the colour drained from his face.

“I came in to reassure myself that we were going to be okay and find him on his knees and your trousers undone!”

“Sam! I was tying his--” Harry began but Sam cut him off.

“You shut up! It’s always you! He moans your name in his sleep. He even called me ‘Harry’ when I was sucking him off. You’ve ruined my life!”

Sam made a move towards Harry but Nick stepped between them.

“Harry’s done nothing wrong. He’s just--”

“Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! Ramon told me you were cheating with him but I didn’t believe him. Now I see it with my own eyes. It’s over! How could you ever say ‘I do’ to me when you never stopped saying I did to him?”

“Sam--” Nick reached for him.

“No! I’m going back to Ramon!”

“But our guests!”

“You mean your guests Nick,” he said, then stifled a sob with his fist as he stumbled from the room.

Nick stood stiffly staring at the door while Sam’s wails echoed down the hall. It was a while before he felt Harry’s hand on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry, Nick. I didn’t mean to--”

“No. It’s alright. I knew it wasn’t going to work out. I think that’s why I was so nervous. I’m not in love with him.”

He hung his head as Harry squeezed his shoulder. Nick reached up to pat his hand after a moment and took a deep breath.

“I guess I’d better go tell my guests that the wedding is off. At least they’ll have the reception to look forward to.”

“Wait, Nick. Don’t tell them.”

“What? I can’t leave everyone just sitting there when they’ve surely heard him carrying on. I’ll just tell them I’m a three time loser and we’ll move on to the dinner and the party.”

Nick headed for the door but Harry grabbed his arm.

“Was it true? What he said? About me?”

“C’mon Harold, let go. I’ve got to—“

“Was it true, Nick?”

Nick steeled himself to look into Harry’s eyes, those green eyes that he loved so much.

“Yes,” he managed at last.

Harry searched his face, questioning then made a small nod.

“Good. Then marry me.”

“What?!”

“You heard me. Marry me instead. Today. Right now.”

“Have you gone mad?”

“Do you know why I’ve never got married? Because I didn’t love any of them. Not one. And I tried.”

Nick just stared at him.

“Do you know why I’ve never dated another man?”

Harry paused for a reply but Nick was dumbstruck.

“Because you’re the only man for me. Nicholas Peter Andrew Grimshaw, I love you. I have loved you my whole life. Will you marry me?”

Tears filled his eyes and his voice cracked when he answered. “Yes, Harold, I will.”

“You know my name isn’t Harold, right?”

“Shut up and kiss me.”

And he did.

At the first strains of the music, the small crowd turned to see Harry and Nick standing at the back of the room together. As Shania sang ‘Still the One’, they walked hand in hand down the aisle, both men beaming. They stopped to hug Anne and Gemma, both of whom were crying. Just before he released her, Anne whispered to Nick “It’s about time.” That was when his tears started.

Next stop was Eileen and Jane and Andy, who hugged them both fiercely. Eileen reached up to whisper to Harry “He’s always loved you Henry. As have we all.”

“Mum, his name’s---”

“Harry. Yes dear, I know. But he’ll always be Henry Stars to me.”

Harry bent down to kiss her on the cheek.

They arrived at the end of the aisle and stood looking at each other as the song faded away. The minister gave a speech and had them repeat traditional wedding vows. He pronounced them married, and then Nick turned to Harry. He looked into those eyes, so green he could get lost in their depths. Harry took Nick’s face gently in his hands and stared into his eyes.

“I love you. I am so proud to have married you at last.”

And then he kissed him. And then kissed him again. And then again. Nick was giddy when they finally pulled apart to applause from their guests.

#gryles #five weddings

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junk-yard-hearts · 6 years

Text

Poly Bowers Gang HC’s

o lookie lookie

Belch (I prefer calling him Reg or Reggie to Belch tbh)-

· I see Reggie as more of the enforcer within their group dynamic.

· The other guys can get kind of carried away and he’s the first to tell them to leave you the hell alone if he thinks they’re making you uncomfortable

· After a thorough fucking he’s the one who’d gently kiss your temple and tell you how good you were

· He always lets you sit in the front seat and glares over his shoulder at the others when they whine about it. As far as he’s concerned, it’s HIS car and you deserve the front seat, dammit. (He actually just wants to watch the sun hit your face and keep you away from Patrick)

· The other guys give him hell because he’s so sweet on you but he just can’t help how much he adores you awe

· The others laugh because you would never call him Belch and he blushes every time you call him Reggie

· He’s the one you’d call after all your best friends stood you up for your girls-night-in sleepover plans. He’d hear your disappointed voice and the sniffles and sigh. He shows up at your house 20 minutes later with the fuckboy squad in toe.

· You ask if he’d do a face mask with you and he looks panicked as fuck

· But the second you hit him with those lovey eyes, he relents

· The other guys sit around and snicker as you apply cerulean goo to his face but he couldn’t care less because the smile on your lips is everything to him tbh.

· Henry tells him he’s such a girl, and Belch hits him with some “a real man would do anything to put a smile on his girl’s face” shit and Henry just slinks tf away

· He drives you to school every day, and sometimes when your parents aren’t home, he comes in and eats breakfast with you and helps you finish getting ready.

· He helps you pull your hair back and ties your shoes for you awawawe

· Always opens your car door for you

· You wear his t-shirts to school after spending the night with him and he gets all heart-eyed and thinks you look so cute.

· He sees you in your faded jeans, with a bow in your hair, and his ratty Judas Priest shirt on and his cheeks get all hot cause he just thinks you’re the cutest.

· For his birthday, you go to his house while he’s at work and you and his mom cook him his favorite dinner (chicken parmesan and fettucine), and you and the gang hang up a banner and surprise him.

· You didn’t have much money so you made him a cassette mix tape and take them to the bakery on main street for cupcakes, and you all serenade him right there on the sidewalk outside the shop.

· He tries SO HARD to keep up with your friend drama because he likes that you come to him to talk but fuck, you have so many friends. Who’s Trish?? Where tf did Emma come from? When the hell did Lisa come into the picture?

· Takes care of you on your period like his mom told him to.

Victor

· Vic is the one you go to about your friend drama and knows exactly what you’re talking about.

· “Oh my god who does Lisa think she is talking to Gemma about you like that? I’ll kick her ass idc.”

· Says goodbye with a firm slap on the ass

· Smiles at the tiny squeak you make every time he slaps the ass

· Always gives you candies out of the pockets of his vest

· He says he keeps them to put a smile on your face and you know he stole that shit

· Loves to rest his head in your lap and let you play with his hair

· He gets this blissed out, barely conscious look when you gently scrape your nails across his scalp

· Stares in slack-jawed appreciation when you wear those little skirts that sway when you walk

· When you’re having a bad day, he paints your nails

· He notices you getting nervous and scraping the polish off and just grabs your hand away and squeezes it.

· Smacks Patrick over the head for making lewd comments about your body in public

· “Dude, watch your fucking mouth, she’s a lady.”

· You have study hall together, and you sit with your Walkman cassette player in between you, listening to KISS and holding hands, and reading your English class assignments

· KISS is so not his cup of tea but he doesn’t mind them.

· He knows you love them so he sits put and listens anyway

· He learns all the words to all the songs on Smashes Thrashes and Hits from how often you listen to it.

· You two smoked weed together and the guys found you laying outside staring at the clouds together being sappy

· But he kicked their asses for making fun of it

· You bleach his hair for him because he tried to do it himself and got burns on his head

· You teach him how to put coconut oil through his hair to prevent burning, damage and uneven processing

· Henry and Patrick laugh and look on, telling him how soft it is to dye his hair.

· You turn around and tell them how harsh and dangerous bleach can be to the body and offer to put some on THEIR heads.

· They scurry tf away

· He loves to watch you masturbate, and loves when you wear lingerie for them.

· When you and your boyfriends crashed a party, they went off to torture some people but you and Vic were making out on the stairs while all the girls with crushes on him watched

· He lowkey loves showing you off at all times

· For Christmas you made him the coolest sneakers he ever saw

· You bought a pair of canvas kicks from the thrift store and spent hours painting them, and he fREAKED when he saw them

· He loves when you wear that peachy smelling lipgloss but he always ends up with shimmer all over his mouth and the guys laugh at him. Worth it tho.

Henry

· You tell him you got your nails done and he gets this “The fuck are you tellin’ me for?” look on his face.

· You frown. He realizes you just want him to act interested and suddenly he’s like AH YES, THE NAILS, THE FINGERNAILS YES THE NAILS ON THESE PARTICULAR FINGERS ARE LOOKING MIGHTY SPIFFY TODAY YES INDEED

· He notices you painted them his favorite color and has to physically restrain himself from squealing like a schoolgirl because he loves that you love him lmao

· Talks a major talk about what a ladykiller he is but the first time you take your clothes off and he sees your body in only soft lingerie he just stares in awe and appreciation

· He thinks you don’t know (but you definitely know) he stole one of your silky pink camisoles and keeps it stuffed under his mattress.

· He actually wasn’t being pervy, he holds it to him when he sleeps and breathes in that precious smell of delicate perfume and something distinctly you and it blisses him out no matter how stressed he is.

· Always puts his arm around you in public or holds your hand

· When its cold and you didn’t wear a jacket to school, he scolds you because he’s concerned for your health and comfort, and puts his jacket around your shoulders.

· Will beat someone up just for looking at you wrong

· Always is the guy who says he needs to “Defend your honor”

· Its endearing but can be a bit much.

· Always hitting Patrick for disrespecting you

· Always being hit by Reggie for disrespecting you :^)

· Is 90000% outraged when you confess an insecurity

· “What on god’s green earth would you hate your tits for?! Have you fuckin seen them? Your body ‘so fine I’m havin to chase off every man in this damn town, cause they all want my girl.”

· I think he’d be that boyfriend who if you wore a low cut shirt in public would walk around with his hand covering your cleavage cause that shits his eyes only thank you very much.

· “Only yours?” you’d tease. “Damn straight.” he’d reply. “But what about Belch? N Pat n Vic?” you’d say, laughing. “OK, now listen here.”

· Is totally fine sharing you but constantly refers to you as HIS girl.

· Likes you to know who’s in charge.

· One time you sucked his fingers clean after he fingered you and he is still recovering tbqh

· Also one time you called him daddy in public and he came in his fccuccking pants.

· You didn’t know what to get him for his birthday so you just had him over to spend the night and wore pretty underthings and had a night just the two of you.

· You cut his hair. You’re always begging him to let you cut the fucking mullet off but he just won’t hear of it. He thinks he looks badass.

· His hair is really soft tho and you put the mullet into a tiny braid and giggled endlessly.

· He just quirked his eyebrow up at you and asked If he looked sexy.

· Lives for validation

· Tries to offer you aftercare but lowkey useless at it

Patrick

Patricks are the dirtiest

· Rarely allowed to be alone with you

· Loves to say creepy shit just to watch you squirm

· By far the most dominant and thinks aftercare is stupid lmao

· He likes that you somewhat want to impress him

· JEALOUS as hell of how much Henry adores you

· And really, how much they all adore you

· One time he got the sense that you might actually be real

· Which freaks him out, and he can’t shake the feeling

· He compensates for this by going out of his way to make you uncomfortable

· Says creepy shit in public

· Puts his hand up your skirt at the lunch table

· More or less only touches you because he’s allowed to

· He likes your hands a lot, he likes holding them, he likes when you touch him with them because they’re so gentle and soft

· Comes and visits you at night because he just likes to be near you

· At first it was unsettling but now you’re used to it and know he won’t try anything

· As scared as everyone already is of the whole gang,

· They’ll never fuck with you because Patrick is too damn scary

· You had a one-on-one night once

· The next day, the gang came over to hang out and you had welts on your chest from where Patrick dripped candle wax on you, bloodied bite marks on your collarbones and were limping

· Belch punched him in the fucking face

· He knows you probably liked it but the idea of Patrick getting too carried away without anyone there to stop him worries him

· (I honestly think he’s just always looking for reason to punch Patrick lmao. If asked why, he’d shake his head and say “that boy ain’t right” mister fuckin hank hill)

· He likes to brush your hair which is weird to the other guys but you seem ok with it, so…

· The first time you met his mother she was visibly shocked that someone actually wanted to spend time around him yikes lmao

· You wear one of his rings on a necklace because it slides off your fingers

· Gets the roughest with you during sex and the guys are always wary of the fact that you actually seem to enjoy it.

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tossertozier · 6 years

Text

He Really Knew Well Enough - a corrected meta

so when I came into this fandom, it was so gung-ho on this one line. I made it my blog title. I write an entire fic based off this one line. This one line is the Entire reason I am invested in a romantic relationship for reddie. And no one was talking about it, so I was like alright everybody lemme school you.

now it’s a certified ThingTM and lemme tell ya a bitch is a little bit proud. but let me tell you Why it should be such a thing. (& finally correct myself for the other meta with too many notes to be wrong.)

(for those who have no context for this question: in the book, after eddie dies, richie cries. upon the realization he has to leave him where he is to ensure the safety of everyone else, he kisses him on the cheek, promptly grows absolutely enraged and attacks the door that the Very dead pennywise is on the other side of. when everyone is like …wtf, bev asks why he did that. he verbally replies “i don’t know” and the narration tells us ‘but he knew well enough.’)

I want to paint a picture out of that, for a second, though. We’ve got five characters in this scene. We’re in a dark, upsetting sewer. One person is Eddie, who is dead. Then we have Ben, who just freshly smashed some eggs and he’s... tired. Then there’s Bev, whom, moments before, was nearly as distraught as Richie. And then there’s Bill, who says next to nothing for this entire scene.

Bev / Richie / Eddie is such an interesting dynamic in this book. The boys love Bev, and she loves them. And Bev was sobbing in the moments before, because her friend, whom she loved dearly, died.

And Richie loves both of them. In fact, when Richie re-meets IT as an adult, he’s taunted by IT about both of them, and just the two of them:

He says something akin to “we’ll have a party. Bev can come and bring her wedding ring, and Eddie can come and wear saddle shoes.”

Which. That wedding ring comment I think is just another knock at Richie, who, I believe, never knew as empathically as Ben and bill whether or not he liked Bev, but it was always at the back of his mind. The saddle shoe comment is interesting, because in the fifties they were commonly worn by everyone (thanks to Elvis) but before that and then after they were really just seen as women’s shoes (they’re the shoes sandy and the pink ladies wore in grease.)

What I think IT is really getting at here, if he were a sneering childhood bully and not an all knowing space monster is that: “you can bring your girlfriend who doesn’t actually like you, or you can bring your other girlfriend because you like him like that, too, don’t you?”

so. Eddie is dead, bev is crying, all of this leads to upset Richie: and he freaks out and kicks a door.

But here’s the thing about IT: these people are not what most adults would consider to be true friends. They haven’t, as far as we know, seen each other, in upwards of 25 years. They are not impactful in each other’s every day lives.

For Bev to even ask why he would (react so emotionally, when she herself is crying), means that Richie must have been absolutely fucking ballistic.

the thing about it is: richie is stated, over and over again, by 6/7 members of the losers club, as confusing. As “not quite getting him,” or “not knowing what he was all about.” Richie thus far has had difficulty expressing his emotions. he hides a Lot under characters. the only exception to this rule, is bill. bill thinks that Richie A MAN HE HASNT SEEN IN 27 YEARS knows him/understands him better than ANYONE ELSE IN HIS LIFE. And he feels the same way in the opposite, too.

I Truly Hate Stephen King, bc in a very believable way, he isolates the reader from richie, the way richie isolates the other characters. richie, as a man especially, is set up to the reader as not a liar, but a half-truth teller. he does this with his boss at the beginning, he does it to the woman he’s with. he doesn’t lie to them, he just doesn’t necessarily disclose the entire truth.

it’s stated over and over again: what Richie is really scared of is who he really is.

it’s in his narrative as a child. When he watches the werewolf movie, he fears seeing himself that way:

“The Teenage Werewolf was somehow scarier, though... perhaps because he also seemed a little sad. What had happened wasn’t his own fault. There was this hynpotist who had fucked him up, but the only reason he’d been able to was because the kid who turned into the werewolf was full of anger and bad feelings. Richie found himself wondering if there were many people in the world hiding bad feelings like that. Henry Bowers was just overflowing with bad feelings, but he sure didn’t bother hiding them.”

“Stitched on the bloody left breast of the Werewolf’s jacket, stained but readable, were the words RICHIE TOZIER”

Richie Tozier is scared of his own emotions, and he’s scared of who he really is, and he time and time again shoves that under some voice or another.

But he knew well enough is not the the first time richie does something of this nature. It’s very similarly stated when he’s a kid:

“I don’t get you dad,” but he was afraid he did.

And he does the same concept without the wording, not disclosing what he was truly thinking/feeling, constantly.

And if his answer were authentically “my friends just got eaten by a spider” it would have been easy enough to say that. But Richie knows it’s not.

“I don’t know.” But he knew well enough. fucking DESTROYS me because it discloses to the reader 1. that he lied to bev 2. that he knows why he’s upset. 3. but not why he’s upset.

IT’S SUCH A FUCKING RICHIE TOZIER MOVE. it kills me. fyi. he’s upset because he loves eddie. it’s crashing over him how much he loves eddie. & he died saving richie’s life. he loves him, he’s gone, and there’s nothing he can do about it.

And bill says nothing. Probably because bill knows. Bill just doesn’t have to ask.

and non-reddie people can take it as any kind of love they wanna take it as -i have my own reasons for thinking it’s romantic,-, but this is really what i get out of it:

“why did you do that?” “i don’t know.” Because he loved him.  “why did you do that” “i love him.”

which richie would never just out-right say - probably not even in his own mind which is another fucking ted talk this is not well written i’m so sorry. put but he knew well enough on my fucking gravestone.

Oh, and if you’re thinking: “but what, how can one line make u ship a whole ass couple.”

I respond with: “Richie Tozier Knew Well enough and so should you.”

#reddie #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak

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