#only good things for marsh forever and ever thank you very much | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

amporella · 1 year

Note

hi! this is mpreg anon from a few months back lol. i just wanted to say i finally got to reading the fic and im sooo!!!!! sobbing and crying, a puddle of love on the floor! you were right. i Know now why you talked about it often.

i really love holly's stankyle. theres something about them that feels very.. desperate? like they know they belong together and sometimes not even physical touch can satiate that need/want?? idk! but agh! i love them sm. holly is also really good at capturing the overall weirdness of south park and thats why she can come up with aus/ideas that are weird or silly and make them work. i also really appreciate that she went for kinks/tropes that not many people give style.

something else i really loved about this fic was that it felt very like.. omg a dream come true in a way? sometimes i just wanna read a fic where stan and kyle do fuck all all day, just real type of normal maybe even domestic shit and its just them. and this fic came pretty close to that? they are so wrapped up in each other and have so much love to give and g OD i thought the baby was gonna come in and ruin that or like i was gonna get annoyed w the baby but no!!! 😭 i was so neutral about elway in the beginning and was actually loving how kyle was thinking/approaching the whole thing. idek when that started changing?? before they talk about the name elway though. and when she was finally born and the days kyle spent fighting to get her?!! and then he gets her and its the three of them and its like.. yeah.. okay, she's perfect. she really is a miracle stan and kyle created and theres no way she could ever come between them bc stan and kyle's love is endless, its forever and ever, they can share that love with their child 🤧

as for creek, hmm. i think craig and tweek just arent characters i've seen holly write for and like? so even though they are/were together i just didnt rly care for them u_u. im really glad i started finally reading fic where theyre not together in style fics though. it still hurts a bit lmao but ive been enjoying some stories i had passed on before and stuff and yeah, ty for giving me that little push >w<!!!

sorry this ask is so long! i didnt want to bother you every time i finished a chapter lol. i was also going through some stuff and this fic was the only thing keeping me sane. and actually i have just the epilogue left but im so sad its gonna be over after that so i've been delaying it :(! but yeah, aahhhh herbert garrison's night school for unwed fathers enjoyer 🫡 TY! 💙💚

YOU HAVE NOOOO IDEA HOW HAPPY I AM THAT YOU READ THE FIC AND SENT ME THIS AMAZING ASK??? I saw this in my inbox and immediately went to my friends and like BRAGGED ABOUT GETTING THIS? I'm going to respond to every part so bear with me but in the meantime THANK YOU!!!

I think you are so so right about them being desperate... it is key for stanky that regardless of how close they get physically, it's like it'll never be enough? Like they are soulmates in every sense of the word, and can never actually satiate their pull... SIGH!!!! IT'S TRUE!!! And holly's ability to nail absurdity is absolutely one of her strongest suits, and something that definitely contributed to how iconic she is. South Park is an absurd show, and holly meets it with such absurdity that Stan and Kyle can stay perfectly in character, because so many of her plots are something that could legitimately BE a South Park episode involving the characters when they're older. Like, Craig and Clyde fucking in the Marsh shed and Craig telling Sheila Kyle needs a psych eval? A+, can and will happen at some point. It's so ridiculous yet somehow believable, and the mpreg fic is literally the BEST example of it. It's a concept that's frankly a huge turnoff for a lot of people (understandably), but she puts it in such a light that she makes it appealing for a ton of people. It's one of those fics that i would recommend even to the most vehement mpreg hater, because there IS something about it that differentiates it from typical fics like that.

AND DESCRIBING IT AS A DREAM COME TRUE IS SO CORRECT? Everything you said in that third paragraph specifically was so fucking real. The fic starts off as such an absolute disaster situation, and despite the multiple disasters along the way, you can absolutely tell that it was like fate in a way? Holly does an incredible job of balancing the understandable stress with the joy and all the happy moments, as well as acknowledging the fact that in the end, Elway seriously did enrich both of their lives. I LOVE THAT YOU POINTED OUT HOW YOU WERE WORRIED ABOUT THE BABY COMING BETWEEN THEM... because it's true!!! It's such a real concern, but she is so good about wrapping it up; the scenes after Kyle gets Elway feel like a dream sequence in how floaty and happy everyone is, and while reading it I was like (as someone who does not want kids), huh. Maybe I need to have a baby? LOLL but seriously you are so right. It IS endless and now they have even more love to go around because of Elway... whatever. WHATEVER!! I'm not even crying. I'm NORMAL!!!!

I totally get your feelings about creek!! I ended up feeling kind of similarly. I'm happy you started expanding your horizons!!! There's nothing wrong with sticking with exclusively creek fic, obv, but there are some real gems out there if you're able to push some of the icks to the side. And maybe you'll even figure out a new ship you like? I remember that I was afraid to read Other People's Tupperware at first because Tweek is literally dead, and Craig hooks up with Kenny? But then I decided to read it (and felt neutral about it!) and it was valuable to me. And then when I read it a few years later, I really loved it. It got me thinking that first time!!! I'M HAPPY I COULD HELP GIVE YOU THAT PUSH!!!

Talking about holly (or any other fic) to me will NEVER bother me so pls feel free to do so!!!! I HOPE YOU ENJOY THE EPILOGUE!! It is sweet and so delightful. AND PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF I CAN EVER GIVE YOU ANY OTHER SUGGESTIONS!!

Thank you SOO much for this ask!! It seriously made my day.

#asks #<3

4 notes · View notes

jess-rewatches-prodigalson · 3 years

Text

Take Your Father to Work Day (S2, E4)

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

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

SPOILERS AHEAD:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

120 notes · View notes

its-reddie123 · 3 years

Text

A head cannon of Richie Tozier being a hoe:

Okay first of all we don’t slut shame in this house so even though Richie is a massive hoe we respect him for it: (also note obviously they are all of age in this) (and it’s over several years/months not weeks)

-has Richie slept with all the losers? Yes yes he fucking has, do any of them know? No they definitely don’t

-the first one surprisingly wasn’t Eddie it was Stan, things had got heated one night when they were joking around in the club house when everyone had gone and Stan kissed him (partly just to shut him up), now by this point Richie had basically kissed all the losers because he’s that type of friend to suggest spin the bottle and shit like that but this time with Stan it was different and they both got very into it 👀

-Stan was the first to start taking off clothes and Richie gay panicking stumbled getting up to join him that he fell over😂 they both continued kissing and though they don’t go all the way by the end they were both spent, they almost got caught the next morning by Mike coming into the clubhouse but luckily they heard him coming before it was too late

-the next person of course was Bill, Richie had the strongest crush on him out all of the losers and for the longest, he admired him so much so it was only a matter of time before he put his foot in his mouth and let it slip, he always hinted he had crushes and all the losers but hid it behind his jokes but what happened with Bill was not that sort of situation

-At a party both Richie and Bill had found there way to the roof, both considerably drunk (but not enough that they weren’t both fully aware of what they were gunna do) Richie, actually fucking quiet for once in his life sat there trying not to stare at Bill but Bill noticed laughing “what?”

“You’re fucking gorgeous!” Richie said giving him a small shove

“What??!” Bill laughed

“You are so beautiful!”

“Shut up stop joking around” Bill laughed

“I’m not I will keep telling you till you believe me! You’re a literal god Bill and I’ve had the biggest crush on you forever...”

Then Richie realised he had got carried away and what he had said so stopped in silence he blushed

“I didn’t know you llll..liked me like that”

“Don’t go telling anyone” Richie continued to look at his feet

“Of course I won’t, ...you know I really like you like that too” Richie looked up smiling and both of them leaned to kiss

-did they do stuff on that roof? Yes yes they did, and after decided to keep things staying casual as friends cause Richie confessed he really loved Eddie and Bill understood

-who was next you may ask? well Beverly of course they fully fucked several times to tell the truth, mostly when the hung out to get high together but also just if they happened to both be horny, as they talked the most of the losers there little to absolutely no secrets between them and they both loved to be with each other as they confessed several times, they kept it very secret though and always as a friends with benefits relationship until one day they decided just be pure friends instead

-then came Ben, aaaaaaaa I can’t think of a situation Ben and Richie would ever hook up cause I see Ben as straight, you know what I got this far I’m following through

“What’s up Haystack?” Richie sat next to him on the floor of the high schools hallway leaning against lockers,

“Oh you know...stuff” tears rolling down his face as he tried to crack a smile

“What sorta stuff?” Richie said looking concerned

“I don’t feel so great about myself, and I feel very lonely sometimes”

“Marsh still hasn’t sorted her shit out?”

“No”

“Look Ben you’re an amazing guy, I think you are literally perfect, don’t worry if it’s just taking some time for others to see this”

“I’m not perfect!” he chuckled

“Did I ever tell you that I’m bi Ben?”

“ no... i didn’t know that... how’s that related though?”

“Well if you hadn’t guessed already I am totally head over heels in love with Eddie, has his noticed yet? No, am I hopeful yes cause it’s just bound to happen”

Ben leaned on Richies shoulder as the last tears fell from his face

“I’ve never kissed anyone before, no ones gunna want me” whispered Ben

“Ah see ah see well Benny boy how about we change that? I have plenty of experience” Ben lifted his head looking at Richie

“No strings attached” so Richie holding up his hands

“Okay but outside under the bleachers” even though everyone was in class it was still to risky to do in the hallway

-they kissed, Richie guiding him through making out and showing tips of where to put his hands he even through in some things he knew Beverly liked (without saying her name of course)

-Mike the man, the farmer, the rock of the group, the king, he loves Richie gets very protective over him (over all the losers tbh but Richie the most) it’s something about knowing he will keep putting his foot in his mouth and Mike knows he means no one any harm, there have been several fights Mike has broken up and saved Richies ass many times, one day they were running from Henry Bowers and his gang, after losing them a couple of blocks back they found themselves in the woods

“You okay?” Mike looked at richies black eye and broken glasses

“Well I can’t see a fucking thing but yeah I’m good” touching his under his eye gingerly “thank you for saving me! My knight in shining armour!” He said going to hug Mike but then he tripped and Mike caught him there faces very close Richie leaned in (not really sure where exactly to aim for) and kissed Mike, he pulled back realising maybe Mike wasn’t into guys out of all the losers he wasn’t really one to talk about that stuff

-but as soon as he pulled away and inch Miked lips instantly came back Richie shocked managed to trip again! And this time took Mike down with him they both laughed and continued to make out on the forest floor, did things happen?yes, yes they did, did it go all the way? yes, yes it did (I will leave it up to you to decided who was bottoming)

-so yeah Mike was richies first time fully being with a guy but of course Eddie was his second! Finally to the relief of all the losers cause the sexual tension was becoming fucking unbearable, they hooked up but not before both confessed their love each other one time when left alone at a party, Richie did also tell Eddie this wasn’t his first time but Eddie didn’t mind it was his first time and he knew Richie could/would take care of him👀

-then we come to the point of a very interesting game of two truths one lie several years later, everyone was out of their heads drunk, Richie and Bev were also stoned as hell and Richie decided this was the perfect time to say a truth of he had basically hooked up with all of the losers without any of the others knowing, his other truth was he was bi (which everyone of course already knew) and the lie that he was once abducted by aliens, so it was pretty clear straight aware it was the truth, Eddie actually found this hilarious completely understanding cause he found most of the losers very attractive as well, everyone else was in complete shock Richie immediately being bombarded with questions, but in the end everyone just ended up laughing about it and Richie was named the hoe of the group

#richie tozier #itmovie #it #it 2017 #mike hanlon #ben hanscom #beverly marsh #bill denbrough #losers club #stanley uris #reddie #eddie kaspbrak #IT #it losers #it chapter 2

54 notes · View notes

binniedeactivated · 3 years

Note

Hi! Can you do number 86 with Beomgyu? Fem!reader if that’s okay ^^ Thank you!!

「 ► 𝐛𝐞𝐨𝐦𝐠𝐲𝐮 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

► 086: "I knew it was a mistake to get the twins matching clothes" 🖇

►𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟!𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞

► 𝐰/��: 686

√ 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 」

“come on lucas! you have to take a bath”. you called, rolling up your arm sleeves while the warm water settled in the tub. as soon as beomgyu slips the small four year old boy out of his bed shorts he immediately takes off down the hallway crying.

“I don’t wanna take a bath!! i don’t wanna!”.

beomgyu tries his best to chase after him, “you have to take a bath we’re going to take pictures today!”.

“don’t you want to take pretty pictures with your brother today?”. you coo from the bathroom trying to get him used to the idea.

“no! leave me alone”. he pouts, wanting nothing more than to just sleep all day. butt naked in the middle of the kitchen floor he crosses his arms. although he was misbehaving beomgyu still thought he was the most adorable thing in the world. he looked just like him, with his little brown bowl cut and tiny lips. beomgyu laughs at his attitude.

you sighed. “fine then! jacob come take your bath”.

the other identical tiny boy was laying on the couch sucking his thumb gently while watching ‘Little Einsteins’ before he heard you words. “okay mommy”. he says dangling his feet before jumping off the couch. he waddles into the bathroom with you glaring up into your eyes innocently waiting.

you thought it was unfair at first how both of the boys looked nothing like you but it was so adorable how much they looked like gyu. you squatted, pulling his shirt off of his head. “you’re taking christmas pictures today! aren’t you excited?”.

he nods his head, “is santa going to give me more presents?”.

after undressing him you lift him into the bathtub. “if you smile nice and pretty I’ll tell santa to get you extra presents okay?”.

beomgyu gasps at lucas who was still crossing his arms being the stubborn boy that he was. “you hear that? mommy is telling santa to get jacob extra presents because he’s being good! don’t you want extra presents?”.

the smaller boy kept his lips pouted and curled them tighter. “i-i don’t care”. he tried to convince himself. not so much his father. within the blink of an eye beomgyu snatched the boy up and threw him over his shoulder. to which lucas began screaming and crying while kicking his feet. beomgyu couldn’t help but chuckle, he was always amused by his behavior.

“no daddy! I don’t want to take a bath!!”.

“it’s going to help you get clean lucas--if you keep acting like this I’m going to tell santa to take your presents!”.

“no!!!!”.

finally arriving in the bathroom beomgyu playfully dumped lucas in the tub beside his brother. lucas splashed the water with his hands once he was finally in.

“hmph!”.

you continued cleaning the back of jacob’s ears, “why are you misbehaving lucas? do you think santa will keep you on the nice list forever?”.

“I don’t want to take a bath! and i’m hungry”.

“when you get out I’m going to give you a small snack and after the photoshoot me and daddy will take you out two for breakfast. how does that sound?”.

you could see him began to soften up a little at the thought, “why does jacob have to come?”.

you lifted jacob out of the tub and you could hear beomgyu sneer while he wraps him in a towel. “be nice to your brother. what if we just leave you home?”. he says before picking up his small wrapped burrito and kissing him on his wet forehead. jacob laughs softly under the towel.

“don’t laugh at him gyu. he’s being mean and he knows mommy doesn’t like when he’s mean to his brother”. you say, lathering more soap on the wash cloth for lucas.

“fine”, beomgyu says just before peering down at jacob. “you ready to get dressed buddy?”. he asks while strolling out anyways.

you began washing him. “if you want to have a good christmas you have to start behaving better. your preschool teacher told me about what happened yesterday”.

“I didn’t do it!”..

“so your teacher is lying?”. the boys nods looking as sincere as possible. it worried you how good of a liar he was sometimes. “lucas are you lying?”.

“she doesn’t like me very much!”.

“you drew all over her desk with sharpie marker. i would be angry if i was her too. you have to start being good”.

“b-but...she didn’t say we couldn’t draw on it”.

“because she taught you that you’re only supposed to ever draw on paper didn’t she?”.

he pouts. “no...”.

“I’m not trying to be mean I just want you to be good alright?”.

“will I get extra presents like jacob?”.

“yes you will. now go to your father so he can get you dressed. we have to leave in a few minutes or we’re going to be late”.

you quickly grab a towel and help him step out of the bathtub while you drained the water. a now dressed jacob in his denim overalls and red sweater crawled on the couch to finish his cartoons. lucas approaches his father next.

“are you done misbehaving?”. he laughs while pushing the green sweater over his head. “hmph. daddy I’m hungry!”. he whines. he pushes his arms in the sleeve holes. beomgyu lowers the overalls so the boy could stick his feet into them. “you can get a snack after you’re done getting dressed. here put on your shoes”. after buckling his overall straps beomgyu proceeds to push his feet into the small doc marten boots.

“jacob! come here so I can brush your hair”. you call out. “okay mommy”. he mutters before jumping off the couch again.

“one snack lucas and then me and mommy are taking you guys out after”. beomgyu confirms and lucas nods, racing to the kitchen. he wonders a bit before opening the lower cabinet where all their snacks were. his eyes grazed over everything hungrily. if he could eat every single last thing, he would.

“yummy!”. lucas jeered, snatching the box of chocolate moon pies. he rips off the wrapper and shoves it in his mouth disregarding how much chocolate fell onto his sweater or how much marsh mellow residue got on his cheeks. he chewed to his heart’s content. he wipes his sweater with his hands, smudging the chocolate all over the front of his overalls and his sweater.

“oh my god you guys look so cute!! i can’t wait to send these photos to your grandparents, aunties, and uncles...”. you trail off brushing jacob’s hair. “I want one in the living room”.

“mommy do you think santa’s elves can take pictures with us? that would be so cool!”.

“that reminds me. santa elves are at the shopping mall today, do you guys want to take pictures with them before we go home?”.

“yes!!”. jacob shrieks with excitement. beomgyu grasps his phone, wallet and car keys along with the kids coats and hats. “babe you ready to go? we have to be there in 10 minutes”.

“yes just send me lucas really fast so i can brush his hair!”.

beomgyu strolls toward the kitchen. “lucas go to mommy really quick”. he called but to only get no response. “lucas?”. he repeats, hearing loud smacking on the other side of the kitchen island table. beomgyu’s mouth dropped at the sight of the little chocolate stained disaster sitting in front of the cabinet with little to no moon pies left in the box. and lucas was too busy munching and smacking away on the delicious treats to care.

“babe!!”.

“yes?”.

“we’re going to be late. I told you matching outfits was a bad idea”.

#beomgyu #choi beomgyu #tomorrow by together #txt fluff #txt imagines #beomgyu fluff

58 notes · View notes

socialwriter · 4 years

Text

If I Die Young

**gif by @somebodylikeaguardianangel**

Pairing: John B Routledge x Female! Reader

TW: Angst (duh), death, hospitals, not eating, fainting/passing out, near death experience, grief, sadness

1.4k+

Based off of the song If I Die Young

Series masterlist

A/n: Here it is, the first chapter of my glee song fic sereis! A huge thank you to @girlsru1eboysdroo1 for reading this through and encouraging me to post this, ily boo <3

The sharp knife of a short life,

Well, I've had just enough time

The pain was agonizing, all encompassing. It drowned out the sounds of the rain pounding down, drowns out the sounds of Kiara and Pope’s tears, JJ’s screams. He’s gone. John b’s gone, lost at sea because some stupid cops that didn’t care about him chased him out there for no good reason. He was innocent, but because he was just a pogue and just a teenager, no one believed him when it mattered. The hurt didn’t leave you. Not when you were taken away from what was now a crime scene. Not when you arrived at the chateau, glaringly empty. Not when you went to bed, enveloping yourself in sheets that still faintly smelled like him. You were too hurt, too broken, left behind by the only boy you had ever loved.

And I'll be wearing white when I come into your kingdom

I'm as green as the ring on my little cold finger

You all had promised each other that you wouldn’t wear black to the funeral. The color was too dark, too real. It represented too much for the four of you to handle, so you had agreed to brighter and happier colors. Which is why you were in the bathroom of the chateau, smoothing out the wrinkles in the white dress you wore. It hung loosely on your body, making you look like even more of a shell of your former self. Your eyes were sunken in and red from all the crying and lack of sleep, unable to rest without the soothing lullaby of John B’s heartbeat. You looked much thinner than you remembered, probably from the lack of food the past week. You couldn’t bring yourself to eat anything or care for yourself. You did it for him before, not wanting to worry him, but now what was the point? You fiddled with the rings on your finger, stopping when you feel the cold metal on your ring finger. You hold your hand out in front of you, smiling sadly at the small green jewel.

It had been three weeks since you had had a proper date night, or really spent any time, with your boyfriend John B and you were completely and thoroughly pissed off. He’d been avoiding your calls, texts, and barely spoke a word to you when he got home after long days out. None of the other pogues would tell you what was up and frankly you were fed up with it. So, instead of getting dressed up for the date John B had told you about earlier in the day, you sat around moping in sweats and one of his old t-shirts.

“Hey babe are you ready to g- why aren’t you getting ready?” John B’s voice rang out through the chateau, causing you to pull your knees up to your chest, staring at the ground. John B’s shoulders fall when he sees your demeanor, approaching you slowly. “What’s wrong?”

You shrug your shoulders at him, letting out a deep sigh. “You cheating on me or somethin’?” You mumble, tears filling your eyes as soon as you say the words out loud.

“W-what? No, I’m not why would you even think something like that,” John B says instantly, sitting next to you on the couch and placing a gentle hand on your cheek, forcing you to look at him.

“Well I mean, you’ve been avoiding me the past couple of weeks and no one’s telling me anything so what else am I supposed to think?” You ask him, your voice raising slightly in irritation.

John B makes an ‘o’ with his lips, suddenly connecting all the dots. “I’ve been working a lot of overtime, for the money.”

You scoff, pulling away from him. “Cut the crap JB, we get by fine without you working so much.”

John B sighs, fishing something out of his back pocket. “Well I mean, I was hoping that I could give this to you in a more romantic way, but here.” He hands you a small box containing a small ring with a little green gem on top. You gasp as soon as you see the present, easily the most beautiful thing anyone had ever given you. “What is this?” You ask breathlessly.

“A promise ring, like a representation of our love. It sounded a lot better when Kie explained it to me..” John B trailed off, suddenly nervous that you wouldn’t like the present or think it was stupid.

“JB I love it,” you whisper, a small smile gracing your lips. He instantly perks up, grinning at you. “Yea?”

You nod, slipping the ring on your finger. “Thank you JB,” you say, pressing a small kiss against his lips.

“Anything for you princess.”

I've never known the lovin' of a man

But it sure felt nice when he was holding my hand

There's a boy here in town says he'll love me forever

Who would have thought forever could be severed

Your home life wasn’t the best. You were a pogue, living alone after your mother had left you for some kook. You never knew your father, never got to experience that love. The only love you experienced was what you had with John b. And now that too had been taken away from you, the world playing yet another cruel trick on you. That promise ring meant that the two of you would love each other for the rest of your lives, what felt like forever. Apparently forever isn’t very long at all. Love wasn’t as strong as you had once thought it was, because it was able to be completely shattered by life, or rather the ending of one. You had never known what love was before John B came into your life, and now that he was gone, you feared that you would never experience love again.

So put on your best boys and I'll wear my pearls

What I never did is done

The four of you all stood looking over the marsh, grieving the one person that had kept you all together. None of you knew how to handle this, how to cope. You couldn’t look out for one another because each of you were falling apart on your own. Your mind wandered to what could have been. The kisses you never gave him, too shy or fearful of rejection. The words you never said, emotions getting in the way. It all felt silly and stupid. Why hadn’t you simply done everything you wanted with John B while you still had the chance? All the what ifs crushed you, made you feel like you couldn’t breathe and your vision blur, until eventually everything just went dark.

The ballad of a dove

Go with peace and love

Gather up your tears, keep 'em in your pocket

Save 'em for a time when your really gonna need 'em oh

Pope caught you before you hit the ground, instantly in a frenzy. “Guys she’s barely breathing.”

Both Kie and JJ turned to look at your all but lifeless form, panic in their eyes. “Shit she- what do we do?” JJ’s frantic voice echoed throughout the marsh, only increasing the tension and worry in the environment. Eventually, despite the money it would cost, the three of them were speeding off to the hospital, trying their best to keep you breathing and comfortable. As soon as Kie pulled into the hospital, JJ slammed the car door open, picking you up and running inside with your limp body in his arms, Kie and Pope not far behind him. Doctors and nurses were all over you in a matter of seconds, pushing the three pogues away whenever they tried to see what exactly was happening to their best friend. The situation felt eerily similar, the painful events that lead to John B’s death still fresh in their minds. All they could do was stand there, wondering if they were going to lose yet another friend. There were no more tears left to cry, all of them already spent on John B.

The ringing of a phone pulls them out of their stupor. “Who’s damn phone is that?” Kie questions aloud, prompting JJ to pull the buzzing device out of his pocket.

“Mine.” He mumbles before answering the call. His eyes widen as soon as he hears the voice on the other end, earning questioning glances from both Pope and Kie.

“John B?”

Taglist: @thelocalpogue @rae131415 @goldenhanna @scandalousfemale @obx-direction-sos @rafecameron @paradigmax @anonymous0writer @x-lulu @futuretaxcheat @olsenholic @jjaybank @starlightstarkey @girlsru1eboysdroo1 @Theyrealldruggy @pit-zuh @tomfreakinghollandneedsaoscar @simonsbluee @outerbongs @stfukie @yxseminx @ilovejjmaybank @abbiesthings @captain-molls-of-the-small-world @kikinuke2 @maddymfperez @pogue-writings @rudths @i-love-scott-mccall @strangerthanfanfiction713 @jj-iz-bae @sguymon21 @kookkyra @wallflowercal @maybanksbaby @jiaraendgame @copper-boom @sunwardsss @starksweasley @trashmouthpogues @allielozoya @vindictive-hearts @kaitieskidmore1 @teenwaywardasgardian @diverrdown @lynniep @apoguecalledjj @dancer0614 @jjtheangel @deathcompass @dpaccione @canibeoneofthepogues @arianabrashierstuff @bolaurel @outerbanksbro @beth-winchester21 @ifilwtmfc

Frenz: @sortagaysortahigh @bluesiderudy @ad-infinitums @midnightmagicmusings @spideymyluv @diverdcwn @softstarkey

254 notes · View notes

chrysalispen · 3 years

Text

iv. never give the heart outright

AO3 link HERE Chapter under cut.

====

The day Aurelia Laskaris left Gridania dawned damp and foggy: as mundane and unremarkable a sendoff as one could possibly wish. The heat wave had relented overnight and the wind with it, and the trees’ leaves hung still and sparkling with droplets of dew. Pale rays of early morning sun filtered through the low-hanging wisps of cloud and collected dust motes and small insects in their wake. The quality of it reminded her of L’haiya’s lace curtains, the way their softness and the delicate patterns and filtered sunbeams had always framed the sitting room windows of her girlhood home.

The driver of the chocobo carriage aimed to set out from the city before full daybreak. Thus she stood in drowsy silence along with half a dozen other passengers set to board, watching the lalafellin teamster as he and the Canopy’s porters secured the larger bags. Barring any unforeseen incidents, the carriage’s route would take them south past Quarrymill, through the marshes near old Amdapor, and south into the high desert of northeastern Thanalan until they reached Ul’dah.

It had taken her all of three days to conclude her affairs: there was, after all, no property for her to sell, nor any anxious relatives to wheedle her into remaining.

Watching the small man loop his handfuls of hempen rope to secure over boxes and bags and other people’s assorted belongings, Aurelia felt a certain twinge of wistfulness that she had not expected. The forest city was not quite home, but it had served as the closest thing she had to one for nearly five years. But it was not enough to keep her. The excitement of the road ahead had not left her, and she faced the morning with bright eyes and a clear mind. The sun was up and so was she.

Keveh’to did not share her optimism, that much was obvious with a mere glance. The Miqo’te stood at her side with an expression one could only describe as pained. His ears lay flat against his fluffy hair, and his fawn-colored bottlebrush tail lashed emphatic and agitated beats against her leg.

“I know I’ve asked you half a dozen times now,” he said quietly, “but are you absolutely certain about this?"

Her answer was the same as it had been each time he had asked:

“As certain as I shall ever be.”

“That isn’t reassuring.”

“Yes, well,” she felt a twinge of annoyance at his pessimism surface at last, “as one recalls, ‘twas you who made the suggestion that I consider further study afield.”

"When you told me you’d give the matter some thought, I didn’t expect you to come back to Miounne’s place the same day with a letter of introduction already scripted and sealed.” His arms folded over his chest and he stared up into the canopy. “E-Sumi-Yan must have had that letter already waiting to give to you, whatever he said.”

“Perhaps. It’s not as though he would have told me if he did.” Aurelia looked down at herself and smoothed the pleats of her skirt yet again. All of it, from head to toe, was new. It felt so odd; she couldn’t remember the last time she’d had new clothing. “Thank you again,” she continued, somewhat awkwardly. “For the traveling attire. It's quite fine.”

Keveh’to shrugged. A dull rosy flush crept up the sides of his neck. “It’s Ul’dah,” he said. “They’ll toss you out the gates on your arse if you show up looking like a beggar.”

“Hells below,” she tried to make a jest of it with a soft laugh, “you make it sound as though they’ll have a fashion inspector awaiting my arrival.”

“No. But I’ve known my share of that lot, and ‘tis not unlikely they’ll hit you with a demand for a hefty bribe at least once.”

“Yes, I’ve heard stories from some of the others.”

“And for goodness’ sake, Relia- please do yourself a favor and be careful about the company you keep. No one needs to know about you-know-what.” He tapped his temple with a humorless smile. “Ul’dah is a great deal more cosmopolitan than our humble little forest abode, but even they might balk at that.”

The stare she gave him could best be described as obstinate, with the hard set of her jawline. “...I might be ignorant of many Eorzean customs, but I should like to think I am not that much of a fool.”

“I’m trying to watch out for you.”

“Rest assured, I do appreciate the thought.” Still so glum. She frowned at him, “I thought that this decision would have pleased you. You made no secret you were tired of watching me mope about.”

“I- yes. But-”

He opened his mouth, stuttered into empty air, then sighed.

The other passengers milled about them in a somnolent shuffle, muttering to each other and passing bags back and forth. A pair of snowy-haired elezen twins in clothing as new and fine as her own brushed past Aurelia and Keveh’to without sparing a second glance, their identical braids and hair-ribbons stirring in a cool and sluggish breeze from the riverbank. She waited for the pair to pass well out of earshot before she continued, as gently as she could manage:

“This isn’t goodbye forever, you know.”

“I know.”

“They gave me honorary citizenship. I think I’m obligated to at least visit from time to time.” Another jest, one which failed in a like manner as the other to crack his solemn visage. “But I do fully plan on returning once I’ve completed my studies.”

“Right. I understand that. It’s…” His ears swiveled forward, then back, still flattened unhappily against his hair. “...Never mind. It’s not important.”

“No, go on.”

“It’s a trifling personal matter. Naught that you should worry about.”

“If you have something to say-”

That stony stoicism faded at last, relaxing into a smile, but it was as sad a smile as she had ever seen Keveh’to Epocan give anyone. “Matter of fact, I did. Once. But I see now that I’ve gone and waited too long,” he said cryptically. “Saying it now won’t change anything, and I wager I’d only feel worse if it did.”

“I’m sorry.” Aurelia worried at her lower lip with her teeth. “Truly, I am.”

His smile stretched into a grin. It made him look far more like the man she had come to know, the friend who teased and needled her and let her talk herself into momentous decisions. “You’ve no cause to be sorry for anything, my friend. The fault is mine own if there’s fault to be placed. I’m just being sentimental, I suppose. And, mayhap, a touch selfish.”

“Last call for luggage,” bellowed one of the porters. “If ye don’t bring it up now, ye’ll be carryin’ it yerselves! ‘Tis a long road ahead! Last call for luggage!”

Aurelia looked down at herself, then the bags at her feet. She only had the three pieces: her salvaged field kit, her herbal bag, and the pack which held in it those few trifling personal possessions she owned, including her mother’s memento mori. The field kit’s thick carbonweave strap perched on her shoulder, its tripartite-link imperial insignia long since removed by her own hand (Rhaya Wolndara’s angry reaction to the sight of it had been a valuable lesson in precaution) and its once-hefty weight now considerably lightened with even her most conservative usage of its contents over the years.

“Well,” he said after a moment, with transparently forced cheer, “let’s be about it. This lot won’t load itself.”

“The field kit needs to stay with me,” she drew out of reach when he stretched out a hand to take it from her shoulder. “Too many fragile items. Glass and the like. I’ll not trust it to the vagaries of a draught chocobo.”

“Fair enough.”

He picked up the others and made his way toward the waiting porter as the small collection of passengers began to mill towards the slatted steps. A Highlander man drowsed near the front of the carriage, hand wrapped loosely about a wine bottle and otherwise oblivious to the world. Aurelia double-checked the small leather belt she wore to make sure the letters Miounne and E-Sumi-Yan had penned were intact; a fine mess it would be if she were to lose them on the journey.

“Aurelia!”

The matronly Duskwight proprietress of the Carline Canopy stood head and shoulders over most of the passengers, and she quickly drew their attention as she made her way towards the small gathering with a swift and decisive stride. The Garlean offered her a small smile.

“Good morning to you, Miounne,” she said. “Come to see me off, have you?”

“I certainly have. I hope you weren’t planning on leaving us this morning without breaking your fast, girl,” was Miounne’s brisk reply, though she returned the smile as she held out her hands. In them, she carried a steaming tin cup and a small cloth-wrapped bundle. “I set aside one of my eel pies for you. ‘Tis a bit chilly as well, so I thought some hot tea might do you well on the road. Don’t worry about the cup; I have plenty of them.”

Touched by the gesture, Aurelia carefully took the cup and the wrapped pie, one in each hand.

“You didn’t have to do this-”

“I know,” Miounne said, a wry smirk tilting her lips. She wiped her hands on her apron. “But I did. The pie is heavy and should keep your belly full for a day or two. You’ll be changing carriages at the station in Highbridge to the Sunroad trail; you’ll want to get more supplies while you’re there-- make sure you have plenty of fresh water. There’s naught betwixt Drybone and the city save malms of scrubland, and this time of year the water holes will be too low to sustain travelers. I imagine the Calamity will have made the pickings slim for hunting as well.”

Aurelia nodded.

“Once you pass through the city gates, make your way to the Quicksand. That’s where the Ul’dahn Adventurers’ Guild operates; the proprietress’ name is Momodi Modi. I sent word ahead that she’s to expect your arrival within the sennight. All you need to do is give her your name and mine.”

“I... yes. I’ll do that.”

“And please, Aurelia dear- do take care in Ul’dah. It is a very different sort of city from ours. You are a kind woman with the best of intentions and there are those who would…” Miounne hesitated. “...Well. I’ll not fearmonger; I’ll wager you’ve heard enough of that. But I would ask the Twelve to watch over you nonetheless- if that’s all right, of course.”

She didn’t say anything for a long moment. Instead, she watched Keveh’to’s back, the way his officer’s overcoat pulled taut across the shoulders as he passed her bags to the porter, then cast her eyes down at Miounne’s parting gifts.

The sight brought back a memory of the last time she had left behind the familiar to set out for the unknown: fresh from her schooling, set to board a train at the capital’s processing center after she had enlisted in the imperial army. No one had accompanied her. Not to give her well wishes or helpful directions, or even to wave their farewells from the platform as the train departed for the tunnels bored beneath the mountains and into the heart of Castrum Pinnaculum. She had gone to the station alone, had left alone, and for the first few weeks of basic training, she had struggled alone.

But she was not alone now. Perhaps she no longer owned a marvel of a garden, or slept in a fine bed, or wore silks, but since coming to Eorzea she had made more friends in this past handful of years than in the previous decade. That had to count for something.

Aurelia stared into the steaming teacup and swallowed past the sudden constriction in her throat with considerable effort, then looked at the other woman with glassy blue eyes.

“I’d like that,” she said at last. “And thank you, Miounne. For everything.”

Before the woman could muster a response Aurelia had turned away and hurried towards the lowered carriage steps. She didn’t want to lose her nerve or shed tears, not today, and she still had one more farewell to give.

Keveh’to reached the steps first; he plucked the carbonweave strap from her shoulder and slung it over his own the moment she drew near. “Let me pass that up to you once you’re seated,” he said. “You can’t carry both your breakfast and this great bloody thing onto the carriage.”

She was the last to board. The wooden stair was showing its age and it creaked even under Aurelia’s slight weight as she made her way onto the covered deck. The platinum-headed Elezen twins she had seen earlier sat in the back near the cargo across from the last empty space: the one in blue was wholly absorbed in perusing a tome while the one in red dozed upon their companion’s shoulder. Neither of them paid her any mind as she set her teacup and snugly wrapped meal upon the open seat. Nor did any of the others, for that matter.

Mayhap this part was not so very different from that long ago train ride after all.

Aurelia chuckled aloud, though the sound lacked humor, and turned towards the other end of the carriage at the sound of swift footsteps. Keveh’to had come up behind her to deliver her remaining bag. The half-empty imperial field kit, still large and cumbersome for all it lacked much of the weight it once bore, smacked with a quiet dull thud against his thigh with each step. His expression was unreadable as he set it down at her feet.

“Suppose Mother Miounne already said it so I don’t need to,” he said, “but I will, anyroad. Take care of yourself and be careful who you trust. And if there is trouble and you need to leave for any reason, you always have a home here.”

“Keveh’to-” Before she could finish what she had meant to say his arms had wrapped about her shoulders in a heavy embrace, tail wound around her calf.

“Write to us once in a while, will you?” he muttered in her ear. “Just… just so we know you’re doing alright. Even if it’s something about your alchemy that I- I mean, we don’t understand.”

“Or care about,” Aurelia said wryly. She knew full well that Keveh’to was not asking her to write to Miounne. Her arms tightened about his shoulders in return, just for a brief moment. “...I’ll write as often as I can manage.”

“Good.”

The Miqo’te looked for a moment as though he wanted to say - or do - something more, but instead released her with all haste, tail flickering and ears swiveling with his discomfiture as he went. Aurelia said nothing further as she took a step backward and turned to the seat where her tea and morning meal awaited. It was easy enough to spare him his blushes, to pretend that her focus lay upon how best she might secure her bag under the seat. Once that was done she picked up the teacup and took a thoughtful sip, placing Miounne's eel pie upon her lap. She was too full of nerves to be terribly hungry but that would no doubt change within a bell or two.

His retreat down the narrow steps came just in time for the porter to lift and shutter the low-slung door behind him with a brisk snap. Aurelia felt her eyes prickle and burn but her composure held fast, and when she turned about and lifted her free hand to wave at her friend it was with a bright smile on her face.

Her minder - her friend, now - gave only a half-second’s hesitation before he waved back. At his side, Miounne too lifted her hand in silent farewell.

“Quarrymill!” the driver shouted. “Next stop, Quarrymill!”

Following upon the heels of the teamster’s call came the draught chocobos’ twin kwehs. She braced herself and her teacup a moment before she felt the sharp initial jolt of the carriage’s forward motion. Within seconds it smoothed into a sedate and seamless drift as the wind aether filled the balloons overhead, and they were off down the half-paved cobbles that led to the Blue Badger gate. In moments they would pass out of the city and turn onto the southbound road.

For the final time, Aurelia allowed herself a glance over her shoulder, back over the lip of the carriage and in the direction of the Carline Canopy. Keveh’to, it seemed, had chosen to remain outside the chocobo paddock. He stood stiff and unmoving save for the tail that lashed erratically at the air, his hands shoved into his deep pockets and his mouth turned in a downward bow she could see even from here.

His words drifted across her mind like errant clouds.

I’ve waited too long. Saying it now won’t change anything.

She kept her gaze upon the dwindling figure until the carriage had rounded the bend and that splash of bright yellow was no longer visible through the foliage.

~*~

Watching the commotion below from his perch upon a flight of corrugated metal steps, Nero tol Scaeva knew what was coming next. The cohort’s work had come to a screeching halt and several of the engineers had gathered about to investigate the rear quarter panel of the left leg. None of them seemed to know what orders they were to give or be given if any, and the resulting confusion left them milling aimlessly about like ants puzzling at a stray piece of food someone had dropped on the floor.

Thus it fell to him to restore order, as much as he would rather not: his presence alone would subject him to fearful kowtowing and stammered excuses. He knew he could be a hard man when the situation called for it, but he liked to think he was also a fair one, and even the greenest of the signal corps had no reason to fear his wrath so long as they could explain themselves to his satisfaction. Still, he was a Garlean, and the provincial fear of his countrymen was deeply ingrained into the army's conscripts -- ingrained when it was not beaten.

No help for it, I suppose.

He made his way beneath the iron scaffolding that surrounded the warmachina's exoskeleton at a brisk pace. The clatter of his sollerets upon the metal tiling set an easy and unhurried rhythm as he crossed the open floor until his stride slowed to a full stop mere fulms away. The engineers’ chatter, quiet but idle, dwindled into an anxious silence.

One of the engineers, a tiny Auri woman with her lavender-tinted hair bound in regulation braids, went visibly pale at the sight of his approach but to her credit did not make a show of flinching from him, and even had sufficient courage to offer up a salute as was proper. He folded his arms over his chest and peered down at her through the visor of his helm. They stood close enough that he could see how her forearm - still stiffly crossed over her chest - trembled at his proximity.

“Architectus,” he said very calmly.

“Y-yes, my lord?”

“As you were,” she dropped her salute, but her back remained ramrod straight and the tension did not leave her shoulders. He continued as if he had failed to notice, “I mark a number of you performing a very serious study of this warmachina’s leg joint, in lieu of performing your assigned tasks.”

Her swallow was audible even through his helm’s transceiver, but her stone-faced stare did not waver. “Apologies, my lord. There is-”

“I believe I have stated on multiple occasions that we have a schedule to keep, and not a terribly lenient one at that. Perhaps the cohort is in need of a reminder.”

“My lord, please,” the woman blurted, then winced almost immediately, “I am sorry to interrupt. But you see, there’s a problem.”

Shite and swiving hellsfire, if I never hear ‘there’s a problem’ again in my lifetime it will be too soon. Still, unlike sas Junius it was not in Nero’s nature to vent his spleen upon hapless messengers. He released a long-suffering sigh instead - only somewhat dramatized for her benefit - and watched those large ocean-blue eyes break their impasse at the sound. They flickered nervously up at his face, then down, then back out to stare at that fixed point past his waistline.

“Of course there is,” he said aloud.

“My lord?”

His own fault, he surmised, for expecting any other response to his bit of japery. “Never mind. Continue.”

“Yes, my lord. We ran the initial tests using the Vanguard H-1’s specifications, as dictated. The operating system ran as expected upon startup. But when we tried to proceed with full activation... well, we tried to switch over from the H-1 but it caused a power surge and nearly started a fire- as you see here. As it is we’re dead in the water. She won’t power on at all now.”

“I assume our engineering teams ran down their checklists for aught that might have compromised structural integrity, prior to attempting the activation.”

“Just so, my lord. Circuitry, fuel lines, motherboards-- it was all green.” She bit her lip. “If… perhaps we might speak to the quartermaster and requisition another part. Or perhaps a larger-”

“The next step up would be the specs for a low-velocity assault craft,” Nero interrupted dryly. “While I share your readiness to explore all possible options, I think it unwise to blindly run through every single spare part at our disposal hoping for a result. Aside from the obvious risks, ‘tis inefficient. We do not have a great deal of time to make what amounts to an educated guess.”

“I- yes,” she stammered. “I apologize, my lord, I should have thought-”

He waved an impatient hand. She fell silent as instantly as if he had slammed a door shut in her face. “Who is your immediate superior?”

“Valens nan Varro, my lord.”

“Kindly inform him that the activation test has been delayed pending an internal review. We will reschedule after I have spoken with the legatus.”

Now she was staring at her feet, her face pale once again. “...He will be sorely displeased if he discovers we have failed you, my lord. Sorely.”

“Ah, yes. A terrible burden indeed, the primus architectus' personal inconvenience. Unfortunately, we shall all have to bear it,” Nero said briskly. He did not care to argue the matter with a subordinate; such behavior would undermine his authority, and the engineers present were well aware that his word was the final say.

“But-”

“If nan Varro is displeased with the decision and wishes to contest it, then he may take his grievance up with me directly.”

Her shoulders slumped forward ever so slightly, not in relief but defeat. Beneath his helm, Nero raised his brows at the response but said nothing further.

“Yes, my lord.”

“And I expect an incident report on my desk by 0700 tomorrow morning. Posthaste.”

Her answering salute was stiff and formal, expression as stony and unyielding as a statue’s. Whatever emotion he had spied was carefully hidden now; the wall was back in place. Curious. Irrelevant. He had neither the time nor the wherewithal to waste in wondering after it.

Nero passed her without another word, her fellows hastening to clear a path for him as he approached the enormous back leg. There were scorch marks on the edges of the chassis panel, he noted; exposed copper fibers trailed from the opened casing like wilted ivy creepers. The ends were blackened and a thin line of smoke still curled in slender lines; the smell was acrid and familiar and the castrum's ventilation system would disperse it within a half hour.

One hand hovered just over the scorched plate as he studied the sight, with a furrowed brow and pursed lips.

Retrofitting Allagan technology was not a precise art, as much as it pained Nero to admit it. Some artifacts worked so readily with Garlean magitek that the process was utterly seamless, as if it had been meant for their hands. Others were far more complex, and thus more time-intensive. The Ultima Weapon had been his longest project to date, and the tribunus laticlavius had to remind himself that the machina had been experimental even to the greatest scientists of its age: a groundbreaking anti-eikon countermeasure that partnered the arcane with the mundane. A seamless blending of aetherology and engineering, borne of man’s ingenuity.

Blended---

Ah.

“My lord?” a timid voice echoed at his back. The engineers were watching him; they had gathered a respectful six fulms away.

“...This is not a public spectacle,” his hand fell away from the plating. “See to this mess. I want the machina checked from top to bottom for aught that could possibly cause further delays. Exposed joints, chassis warping, blown fuses, exposed wires, all of it.”

"My lord, the test-" "Is no longer your priority," his impatience filtered through as a short, barked command. "Attend to your tasks. I will not ask you twice." The gathered cluster of engineers sketched their salutes and scattered like mice, scrambling to obey before any of them could experience the implied consequences for perceived insubordination. Nero watched them in silence for a few beats before taking his leave. He made his way back along the catwalk and up several flights of steps, to one of the administrative bays that oversaw the hangar. Once he was certain of his privacy, he removed his helm with a soft and relieved sigh. It was a mere press of a button after that to open the transceiver link and set it to a specific frequency. Static hissed in the confines of the empty office for one second, two, before the link became stable and there was smooth air and Gaius van Baelsar's gruff baritone:

“State your business.”

“Lord Gaius. Have I interrupted something?”

“Yes, but naught of particular importance. For a small blessing.” The legatus of the XIVth Imperial Legion sounded vaguely put out, but not irate. An encouraging sign which meant he was like to be at least somewhat amenable to the discussion Nero wished to have. “I take it you have something you wished to discuss.”

“I do. The activation test failed. I should have an incident report within the next 24 hours that will list the particulars.”

“Again?”

“Indeed. This is why,” Nero took a deep breath, “I should like to request that the Weapon and all hands involved in the project be transferred to the research facility in Agelyss Wyse.” “The Vylbrand coast? That is not exactly shouting distance from Gyr Abania. And there are certain dangers present which make your proposition quite risky.” Refusal to take risks will not garner the results we seek. "With all due respect, my lord, you did not assign me this project with any fond hopes that I would remain complacent,” he could almost feel his commanding officer bristling at his bluntness, “and these failed tests have made it abundantly clear that - as you will recall that I posited, against protest from certain quarters - ceruleum combustion alone will not be sufficient to bring the Weapon back online. Not at full capacity.”

“What do you propose?”

“I will get to that eventually, but first and foremost: I need data. Current data. Simulations and conjectures will only get us so far.” He glanced out the bay window at the massive machina, a dormant monster, each opened claw the size of a juggernaut. “The Weapon was designed to do far more than subdue eikons, and we have merely scratched the surface of its capabilities. But scratching is all we will manage if we remain here.”

Nero managed - only just - to keep the excitement out of his voice. The Black Wolf of Garlemald was a straightforward man, he knew from long years of experience: interested in results, not theories.

“I understand this, but you are also asking to upend our timetable for the sake of a hypothesis.”

“A hypothesis with its foundation in the methods the Allagans used to create and maintain Dalamud- as Lord van Darnus would attest, were he still with us. I think it a safe assumption that the Ultima Weapon operates upon a similar methodology.” Van Baelsar’s only response was a sigh of consternation. Nero continued, “And yes, it would move our overall timetable forward a few weeks. I admit it.”

“Nearly two months,” the legatus said sourly. “You understand that even if I agree to your proposal, it is not something that can be immediately enacted.”

“I would not expect to presume thus, my lord, of course.” There was bureaucracy involved, and the logistics of moving entire teams between castra -- not to mention the machina itself. Well, Solus zos Galvus had not built the Empire in a day, either. “I realize there are protocols to follow. I only ask for consideration-”

“And due consideration will be given, tribunus- in due time. At the very least I must needs contact the Occidens praefectus and discuss the matter. We will speak on this anon.”

“Yes, my lord.”

He could afford the wait. In the meantime, there was much yet to be done- and new plans to be made. When the legatus called for him again, as he inevitably would, Nero would be prepared to explain what must be done ere their goals could be met. Allag’s mighty Weapon would awaken from its slumber by his hand, and he would receive his fair due at last. There was no one and nothing now to keep him from reaching forth to take what was rightfully his.

This victory shall be mine and mine alone, he thought. And you, old friend, will be as chaff in the wind. Discarded and forgotten.

Beneath his twin veils of tempered glass and chromed crimson steel, Nero tol Scaeva began to smile.

#aurelia laskaris #garlean warrior of light #keveh'to epocan #gaius van baelsar #nero tol scaeva #mother miounne #werlyt cameos sort of?#and the leveilleurs #you get a cameo! and you get a cameo!#this concludes reborn by fire #off to ARR we gooo #upon pale dawns #chapter 4

10 notes · View notes

addicted2escapism · 4 years

Text

Make it Double | JJ Maybank

Pairing: JJ x Reader

Summary: You’re a Kook, who was introduced to JJ by Sarah, and you’re so similar to each other it’s like having two JJ’s around. The Pogues are slowly going insane from your antics.

Warnings: none

Distancing yourself from the Kooks to hang out with the Pogues was probably the best decision of your life. You were so fed up with the stuck up rich kids from your side of the island that meeting new people was like finding gold at the end of a rainbow. Or at the bottom of the ocean. You had always been a bit of an outcast amongst Kooks, only truly getting along with Sarah and managing to maintain civility between everyone else. You just weren’t good at acting prim and proper. Being with the Pogues allowed you to let loose.

They were hesitant to open up to you at first, which was understandable considering all the shit Topper and the other boys continuously put them through. Eventually, though, they came to realize that you were not a spoiled brat who couldn’t get their hands dirty.

The first time they realized this, you were drunk, so it kind of didn’t count. There was a party at The Boneyard, but instead of assuming your usual spot with the Kooks, you were dancing with Sarah and the Pogues. JJ was making sure that your red solo cup stayed full, until he grew a conscious and decided that maybe it wasn’t the best idea to give you alcohol poisoning. So you were throughly drunk, even when the party was beginning to wind down. The Tourons were getting called back to their hotels and the Kooks wanted to hold an after party in the comfort of their three story homes.

Since the Pogues had hosted, it was also their job to clean up, but you were not having it. You wanted the party to go on forever! JJ was closest to you, so you snag him by the arm and dance backwards towards the water. He smirks, letting you pull him away, dancing slightly to your imaginary music.

“JJ!” You begin, and then pause to let out a burp. “Let’s swim!”

JJ’s smirk transforms into a full-fledged grin as you turn around and start running (stumbling) towards the water.

“Little Kook wants to swim in the freezing cold water with all her clothes on?” He questions, but moves his feet to match your speed. “If you say so!”

“No! JJ!” A voice calls out from farther up the beach, which you recognize as Sarah. Her warning is too late, though, because you splash into the water, with JJ right on your heels. You didn’t seem to care that your clothes were going to be absolutely soaked, traveling deeper and deeper into the water until you actually had to swim to keep your head above the surface.

“JJ, she’s drunk! Come back!” Another voice yells, your hazy mind is slowly able to decipher that it’s Kiara. You call her name, your hand shooting out of the water to wave at her, but you couldn’t wave and swim at the same time. The lack of control over your body movements plunges you under the water, but a firm hand grabs your arm and instantly hauls you back up. When you surface, all the Pogues are yelling things like “Jesus, JJ!”, and “come back, now!”.

“She’s fine, I’m holding her up!” JJ hauls you back to shore, making a show of his hand holding onto your arm. You laugh and agree with him, too drunk to fully comprehend why everyone was so concerned.

—

The second time, you were fully sober and could actually attest to your actions.

“Are you sure that she’s gonna be cool with fishing in the marsh?” Pope questions, looking to Sarah for an answer. Everyone was loading up John B’s boat with enough supplies for a full day out on the water. You had texted Sarah earlier that day wanted to hang out, but she had already made plans with the Pogues, so naturally she asked if you could come along.

“Yes, Pope, I am totally confident in that fact that she can handle being on a boat.” Sarah deadpans, staring at him disapprovingly. She understood why the group was reserved towards you, because from the outside you came off as ever Kookier than her. You came from a large family, a descendant of old money, meaning generations have gone by without anyone having to work a single day in their life. You never liked to talk about it, but you were much richer than her. It seemed like after years and years, you were the first one to break the mold of your family and actually care about something other than wealth and reputation. Unfortunately for you, your family’s reputation had tainted yours from the moment you were born.

“We know, we’ve seen her on very expensive boats.” JJ snorts, digging through the cooler of beer that Kiara had brought.

“Then what’s the big deal?” Sarah argues, looking to John B for backup. “You guys accepted me! She’s not really any different.”

“No offense, Sarah, but her house could put yours to shame.” John B adds, extremely unhelpfully.

“You know what? I’m going to invite her, and you can see for yourselves that you’re all being ridiculous.”

After about a half hour of being in the marsh, the Pogues realized that they were being ridiculous. You weren’t grossed out every time John B dumped a net full of fish straight onto the boat, in fact, you were actively helping. Kiara and Pope had taken to reading and listening to music, sprawled out on the back half of the boat, away from where JJ was trying to chase you and Sarah with live fish.

“JJ! Stop! Ew!” Sarah squealed, attempting to use John B as a shield. To her dismay, he reached down and picked up a fish as well, turning on her with a mischievous grin. “No, not you too!”

She called your name for help, but you were too busy being cornered by JJ. You didn’t know what he planned to do to you if he actually caught you, but you weren’t too keen on finding out. So you dart to the left and scoop up a fish of your own, trying not to shiver from the slimy texture of it between your fingers. JJ looks at you in surprise as you discreetly tilt your head towards Sarah, who had resorted to running to Kiara for help. JJ nodded, understanding what you had in mind, and turned towards Sarah as well. With his attention drawn away from you, you released your fish back into the water, feeling a bit bad for keeping the whole net just laying on the deck for so long.

Sarah screams out something about being betrayed, noticing that JJ had let you go, and that you were doing nothing to help. Fortunately for her, you weren’t planning on a single betrayal, but a double. You run across the boat, the fast movement making JJ and John B turn towards you. Sarah takes the opportunity to grab John B and push him off the boat, who latches onto her and drags her into the water with him. When you head for JJ, he already knows what you have in mind, so he captures you in his arms before you can push him and jumps off. When you surface, you can see Pope and Kiara looking at the four of you judgmentally. You laugh them off and start sparring JJ in the water.

—

If you were a bit of a Kook outcast in the beginning, you were completely ostracized now after choosing Pogues over Kooks for months. Even your family started to notice that you would go out with friends and come home “looking like you were from The Cut”, which, to be fair, was exactly where you had been. But you didn’t like their tone, and spent less and less time going to Kook functions. Pogue life had made you a complete wild card.

You couldn’t hide the fact that you were a Kook, though, but you weren’t trying to. It was quite obvious because of your clothes, your phone, and the car that you drove. You simply liked to think about the resources you had access to as a way to help the Pogues if need be.

Once the Pogues looked past your rich-kid exterior, they realized that you were very much like them. And then a certain Pogue started to like you. As in, like you. It was JJ, of course. You both found it easy to be around each other, and more often than not whenever one of you did something a little questionable, it was because the other was spurring them on. When you and JJ were together, you were an unstoppable force that the Pogues struggled to control.

“Guys, please, don’t break anything.” John B sighs, watching you and JJ play fight while he stood in the kitchen, making a peanut butter sandwich.

“We won’t!” You assured him, not wanting to disrespect his house or anything in it. You blocked a “punch” from JJ and swiftly ducked under his arm, laying a “punch” of your own into his abdomen. He gasped and stumbled backwards in fake pain, and you took the opportunity to kick him in the leg. JJ’s leg fights with yours, swiping you off balance. You yelp, realizing that you’re actually going to fall, but JJ reaches out and catches your arm just in time. You open your mouth to thank him, but the only thing that comes out is another yelp when he picks you up and slams you onto the couch.

There’s a loud crack, and suddenly the couch drops out from underneath you, dipping at an unnatural angle.

“Dude!” John B cries out, taking his mediocre sandwich and running over to you. You climb off the couch to assess the damage yourself.

“JJ, why’d you throw me like that!” You accuse, shoving him to the side. He fights you off and annoyingly bats you on the arm.

“I didn’t think you’d break it! How heavy are you?” He retorts, dropping to the ground to look underneath the broken sofa.

“Sorry, John B.” You sigh, squeezing his shoulder. You also take the chance to kick JJ again while he’s down.

—

Kiara’s dad had offered everyone the leftover food from The Wreck, so that’s where you all went to feast for dinner. You’d offered to take them out somewhere for fun, but they all felt strangely about accepting things like that from you. It made sense, but you wished that they wouldn’t view it as a handout. Everyone sat in silence, enjoying their food and each other’s company. The silence was broken when a French fry hit you on the cheek.

“JJ.” You start, not even bothering to look up from your food to see if he really was the culprit. “We’re in a restaurant.”

Quite the hypocrite, you pick up the fry that hit you and throw it back. It hits him right in the forehead.

“Guys, please, don’t start.” Kiara warns, mostly pleading with you since JJ was a complete lost cause. You nod, your days of etiquette training in the Kook academy wasn’t for nothing, and fixed JJ with a glare. He got the message and returned to eating his food, leg pressed snugly against yours.

“You two are going to get us in serious trouble one day.” Pope states, shaking his head as he munches on a carrot stick.

“Hey, at least she has a good effect on JJ. Look at him, he’s quiet as a mouse.” Sarah teases. You snort and JJ rolls his eyes. Both of you have heard this conversation before.

“In my defense, she instigates!” JJ throws you under the bus and you gasp incredulously.

“Me?” You object, ready to argue about who’s the real troublemaker in the relationship. All of the Pogues groan and complain, but the fondness in their eyes show that they’re happy to have you.

#jj maybank x reader #jj maybank imagine #outer banks imagine #obx netflix #outer banks netflix #my writing #gem writes

387 notes · View notes

billiejeanisnotyourlover · 4 years

Text

GREEN — OBX

PAIRING: John B. Routledge x Fem!Reader

REQUEST: “Hey! I was wondering if you could do a John B x reader where the reader is Topper’s ex girlfriend and is now dating John B and maybe a jealous John B at a party or something 🥺🥺🥺 thank you so so much!!!” by Anonymous.

WARNINGS: Mentions of drug and alcohol usage by minors, I think that’s it actually.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: first request! i apologize if this is bad, i literally haven’t written anything in years, so this is quite the throwback. the beginning kind of drags but it gets better (i think) as it goes on. hope you all enjoy!

Okay, listen. It wasn’t like you were planning on going full-Pogue over the summer. No, you hadn’t been mischievously scheming your conversion to the “dark side” at all; you just broke up with your Kook-y boyfriend and started hanging around the local lowlifes a little more than you thought you would.

I mean, between the hours they spent at The Wreck—where, by the way, you’d been working for a good six or so months now after your parents basically told you that you couldn’t leech off of their money anymore—and the number of times you’ve bumped into them on your way home, hanging out with them turned into something a little more inevitable than avoidable.

It started out small, with little conversations that weren’t entirely based on the Kook vs Pogue rivalry that the group of teens were so set on keeping alive.

Kiara, your boss’ daughter, had been the first to show you even an ounce of kindness; another unruly customer had dumped their water all over you (whether or not it was on purpose depended on who you asked about the incident), and she had been the one to take you to the back, let you release some frustration, and then gave you a new shirt to wear.

After that, it had been Pope. While you were serving him and the two other boys one night, he mentioned something about school and scholarships, to which you opened up an entire conversation with him about, seeing your siblings had all gone through the interview process, so you knew a trick or two. You could tell he regarded you a little more kindly after that.

The next to break was John B, the cute, wavy-haired brunet boy. He’d been the easiest to break, even if not the first. While Kiara and Pope still treaded water, John B dove in head-first. You weren’t even sure why; one day, he’d been giving you a side-eye, and the next, he was inviting you around town with them.

Of course, the final Pogue left was JJ. Blond hair, blue eyes, and a total troublemaker. He didn’t take very kindly to you at all; sometimes you could hear him arguing with his friends about how they were associating with a Kook, even if you hardly qualified anymore. Sure, your parents were rich and you wore nice clothes, but all the people in Kooklandia were dull. Shallow. Boring. You wanted depth—and the Pogues could give you that.

Even now, months later, you could tell JJ was still sketched out about you, but you learned to ignore it as time went on, and every once in a while, he would extend an olive branch—with the olive branch being a blunt or a beer, most days.

Though, in all honesty, the hardest part of it all had been Thomas. Topper, as everyone else knew him. The two of you grew up together, practically joined at the hip since diapers, though there was a period of a few years in middle school and freshman year of high school that he would barely give you the time of day.

Maybe that was why you agreed so quickly when he asked you out one day. Maybe that was why the two of you started dating, because he finally was giving you the attention you craved.

Okay, wait, that sounded shallow. You weren’t shallow. You were just... lonely. Missing the human connection. Something like that. Being with Topper filled those holes in your heart and made you happier and happier as each day passed.

Until it didn’t anymore.

You remembered breaking up with him like it was yesterday, even if it had been at least three months ago now.

He yelled at you. You yelled at him. He blamed your new friends. You blamed his ego. It went on and on until, eventually, you just walked away. Told him not to call. Told him not to come by your house. You two could talk about it later, when you weren’t at each other’s throats, but it was still over. You and Topper were over.

Then, the next day, you joined the Pogues on their handy little boat and went off into the marsh. There were drinks and blunts and jokes and laughter. Then the process basically repeated the next day, and the next day, and the next day, and the next day...

...and now, it was July. You and the Pogues were as thick as thieves (quite literally, in JJ’s case). You did everything together, and you finally found the friendships you’d been craving for so long. The friendships that engaged you, that kept you happy, that made you feel unconditional love. You felt like everything was finally complete for you.

And then you fell. Hard.

John B had always been nice to you. So incredibly nice. He let you in on Pogue things. He made sure you were happy. He always made you smile, and with all of that added together, it really wasn’t surprising when you realized that maybe, just maybe, you liked John B as more than just a friend.

Turns out, he felt the same, and only a few weeks prior just as summer break started, he kissed you.

Yes, John B kissed you. And you kissed him back.

Since then, you two were inseparable, always spending your days together and most of your nights, although you still had a family and had to go home eventually. Those nights, though, you stayed up for hours on the phone with him. Literally. Sleep never came to you until three or four in the morning then, and you’d get up at a whopping nine to meet him back at the chateau that very day.

Of course, the hurricane that blew in ruined it all. The island was a mess and the power was out, meaning there was no signal and you were forced to spend your nights at home in solitude.

That’s what last night had been like, but hours had passed and you met up with John B and the Pogues not too long ago, your group of friends and yourself now at the boneyard for an infamous OBX kegger.

“Hey! Watch this!” comes JJ’s voice from a few yards away. The blond boy had situated himself on a tree branch, and once he was certain he had his friend’s attention, he leaned back. He was holding himself up by his legs, now dangling haphazardly above the ground as he... tilted his beer can back and started drinking?

The liquid was going everywhere. All over his chin, dripping to the sand, and covering his face because he kept missing his own mouth.

You, of course, have to laugh. “Does he not realize that’s not going to work?” you ask, looking at the boy whose arm was wrapped lazily around your waist.

John B glances down at you with an crooked grin. The sight makes you mirror the expression. “He’ll realize eventually. After he chokes, probably.”

Sure enough, JJ starts coughing, the beer having gone down the wrong pipe as he struggles to sit up and correct himself.

You laugh even more, sipping from your own beer can and simply enjoying the amusing show. JJ kept coughing, and you and John B kept laughing, joined in by Kiara’s questioning of what the hell were you thinking would happen? and Pope agreeing with her entirely.

A squeeze on your hip draws your attention back up to John B, whose hand has situated itself on the exposed skin above the waistline of your shorts. His gaze meets yours, shining with a happy sparkle that only makes you smile.

“Yeah?” you ask.

“Come walk with me?”

“Yeah, of course.”

The two of your begin to walk away from the crowd, the cheers and laughter and chatter of conversation fading away just the slightest—until a voice calls out your name.

“Y/N!” It’s all too familiar, and slowly, you turn around in John B’s arms to face Topper.

Topper. What was he doing here?

“Topper?” you call back, furrowing your brows before a small pit of anger bubbles in your stomach. You don’t show to outwardly, though, not wanting to give him the satisfaction.

He jogs up in the sand to meet you, now standing just a few feet away. In his hand in a can of beer, but by the way he crushes it, you know it’s empty. You’re surprised he doesn’t toss it behind him and leave it.

“Still slumming around with these guys, huh?” questions Topper. You roll your eyes, and he smirks knowingly. “When are you coming back to the real world, princess? This little fantasy of yours can’t last forever.”

Next to you, John B bristles. “Shut up, dude,” he demands, a shadow now crossing over his face. You’ve only ever seen him upset maybe once or twice, so this was new even for you. “Do you have to come over here and harass us?”

Topper laughs. “You think I want to be anywhere near you, John B?” he scoffs, his gaze flickering to you. “I’m just coming here to remind Y/N what she’s doing. We still have to talk, anyway. Remember?”

“Yeah, I remember. But that was three months ago, Topper,” you remind him, and he stiffens for a moment. “We—” you gesture between you and him. “—are through.”

The blond Kook just scoffs quietly again. He doesn’t have a response right away, but that doesn’t mean he wasn’t digging for one. Eventually, he sighs, “Whatever. You’ll come to your senses eventually and realize that life just isn’t as sweet when you’re hanging around with a few dirty Pogues.” He pauses. “Give me a call when you’re ready for that talk.”

Then, he walks away. The confrontation is short and not at all sweet, but it’s still enough to keep John B quiet even after a few minutes pass. The two of you continue down the beach together, but his arm is at his side and he refuses to even look at you.

You know what it’s about. It’s about the same thing he’s expressed to you time and time again. Why would you leave a Kook for him? Money, a good life... for someone from the Cut? He couldn’t fathom it.

“Hey,” you say gently, stepping in front of him. You’d been in silence for too long. “Look at me, John B.”

He does, and you sigh. His eyes are full and his face crestfallen.

“Just ignore Topper, okay?” you ask. “He thinks he’s some hot rod. He’s not.”

“I don’t like the way he looks at you,” John B replies. “Like—like he thinks he still has some claim over you. Doesn’t he realize he doesn’t? That—that you two are over?”

“He will. With time,” you promise. He’s still tense, though, and for a moment, his eyes flicker over to where Topper is now with the rest of his Kook friends. “John B.”

He looks at you again.

“You,” a finger is pressed to his chest, “are the only one for me.”

“I don’t—”

“No, don’t question it.” You shake your head, then smile as you stand on your toes and wrap your arms around his neck. “You’re the only one for me, John B. I don’t care about Topper.”

At that, he cracks a small smile, and for you, that’s enough. But you still press a little kiss to the corner of his lips.

“Besides, green isn’t your color,” you tease then.

“I’m not... I’m not wearing green?” he states, but the sentence comes out more like a question than anything, and you can’t help but laugh. He’s confused for a moment longer before it processes with him.

He was green with envy, and it wasn’t cool on him. He scoffs, a gateway to a little laugh.

“Okay, that’s it,” he decides, wrapping his arms around your waist and lifting you up with no warning. You squeal, and he lugs you towards the water. “I’ve had enough of your bullying!”

Your laughter drowns out the rest of the party, and you can’t help but feel beyond elated that finally, you’d found your place. Even if your boyfriend is a little green.

#john b routledge imagine #john b imagine #john b routledge #john b #outer banks imagine #outer banks #obx #outer banks netflix

196 notes · View notes

ghost-in-the-hella · 3 years

Note

63. “I need a place to stay.” PriceMarsh

Roughly 1 million years later (in fandom years), here it is.

CW for homophobia and implied domestic abuse.

---

When Chloe answers the door at 9pm on Christmas Eve, she isn’t expecting to see her girlfriend. She especially isn’t expecting to see her looking tear-stained and puffy-eyed in her best church clothes, soaked to the skin and carrying a hastily packed backpack.

“Kate! What’s wrong?” she asks, heart immediately hammering anxiously in her chest.

Kate barely manages to get the words out. “I need a place to stay.”

“O-of course, yeah.” Chloe holds the door open and steps back, ushering her inside. It’s too cold and rainy outside for Kate to be standing there without a heavy coat.

“I’m sorry,” Kate starts babbling as soon as she’s over the threshold. “I didn’t know where else to go; the dorms are closed until after New Years and--”

“Hey, hey,” Chloe says soothingly, pulling Kate gently into her arms. “I’m glad you came here. I just wasn’t expecting you, that’s all. But I’m glad you’re here. I missed you.”

Kate hiccups something between a laugh and a sob into Chloe’s shoulder as she hugs her back so hard that Chloe’s ribs ache. “I missed you, too,” she mumbles wetly.

“What’s going on?” David barks from the living room over the sound of the television. “Shut the damn door, girlie; you’re letting all the heat out!”

Chloe gives Kate an extra squeeze, feeling the way she tenses at David’s gruff voice. She kicks out one foot, pushing the door loudly shut.

“Who is it?” Joyce asks, poking her head out of the kitchen, her hands still dripping soap suds. Her eyebrows rise in concern when she sees the state that Kate is in. “Kate, darlin’!” she exclaims, leaving the kitchen and wiping off her hands on a dishcloth. “What’s the matter?”

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Madsen,” Kate says through a fresh wave of tears. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your family so close to Christmas. I’m sorry I didn’t call ahead; she took my phone.”

Chloe’s heart sinks down to her toes and her head starts buzzing numbly. Shit. She’s been dreading this moment ever since she and Kate started dating. “Your mom?”

Kate nods, looking heartbroken. She turns to Chloe. “I didn’t mean to tell her anything,” she says in an agonized rush. “It just slipped out. One of my cousins came out over Thanksgiving, and she was talking all about how he was going to hell and I just meant to defend him and… and… It just slipped out.” Kate’s mouth tightens into a pained snarl. “She was just so convinced that none of her perfect daughters could be ‘like that,’ so convinced it was something his parents did wrong and that he would go to hell, and I couldn’t let her. I couldn’t let her keep saying those things as if she wasn’t talking about her own daughter, too.”

“So she kicked you out,” Chloe says numbly.

Kate nods again, and Joyce’s frown deepens as she sweeps in to put her own arm around Kate’s shoulders. “Well, you’re welcome to stay here as long as you like, Katie, darlin’. I’m sure your mother will come to her senses--” she glares at Chloe when Chloe snorts angrily “--eventually,” she continues determinedly, “but until then you just stay right here with us. Have you had supper?”

Kate shakes her head. “Th-thank you, Mrs. Madsen. I’m sorry to impose, I just didn’t know where else to go; the dorms are closed over break.”

“Never you mind; it’s no imposition. Chloe, would you set up a dinner plate for our guest?”

“Yeah, ‘course.” Chloe lets go of Kate and looks her up and down. She’s sopping wet and shivering. “You wanna grab a shower and warm up while I’m heating the leftovers? You can borrow some of my pjs if you need a change of clothes.”

“Thank you,” Kate says once again, pressing her cold lips gratefully against Chloe’s cheek as Joyce returns to the kitchen and starts bustling about in the refrigerator. “I managed to grab some things before she locked me out, but I don’t know if I’ve even got a complete outfit apart from what I’m wearing.”

Chloe scowls. “I can’t believe your dad let her do this. And on Christmas Eve; what the actual fuck.”

Kate shrugs sadly. “He tried to reason with her, but when she gets like this…” She sighs. “Maybe he’ll be able to talk her around, eventually. At least enough that I can go back and get the rest of my things.”

“He’d fucking better. And if he doesn’t, we’ll break in and take them back,” Chloe promises.

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

“Parents kicked you out, huh?” David says, suddenly looming in the doorway with a nearly empty beer bottle dangling from one hand. “That’s rough.”

“I… Yes, it is, Mr. Madsen.”

David nods contemplatively, eyes darting back and forth between Kate and Chloe, and Chloe wants to go over and smack his eyes shut. “Well. Sorry t’hear it. I s’pose we can fix up the couch for you ‘til the dorms reopen.”

It’s more than Chloe expected from him but less than Kate deserves. “Kate can stay in my room. We’re both adults.”

David’s expression sours. “Miss Marsh can stay on the couch,” he replies. “Your mother and I already tolerated enough shenanigans when that Amber girl used to stay over. This isn’t a bordello.”

Chloe’s anger flares and she steps forward to say something well-deserved but ill-advised, halted only by Kate’s gentle hand on her elbow. “I can sleep on the couch,” Kate says. “I don’t mind. I fell asleep on the bus ride here; the couch will be much more comfortable, I’m sure. Thank you, Mr. Madsen.”

Step-douche nods at that and disappears back into the living room like some vile ghost. Chloe wishes he’d fuck off and find some other house to haunt. Chloe’s distracted from her thoughts by the soft, cool press of Kate’s lips on the corner of her jaw. Kate slips her fingers into Chloe’s and gives them a squeeze. “I’m going to go shower and get changed. Maybe I’ll feel a bit more stable then. We can figure everything else out afterward, okay?”

“Okay,” Chloe says, turning to kiss Kate back, just a light peck at the edge of her lips. “I’ll heat up some food for you. We can talk it out once you’re warm and dry with a full stomach.”

Kate nods. “I’m probably going to cry a whole lot,” she warns. “I feel sort of numb right now, but I don’t know how long that’s going to last before I break down again.”

“I’ve got two good shoulders,” Chloe tells her. “You can cry on them all you need. I’ve got your back, Angel.”

Kate already looks a bit teary when she pulls Chloe in for a hug. “I should be calling you Angel. You’re the one saving my life here. I don’t know what I would have done tonight if I didn’t have you to run to.”

Kate wouldn’t have to run anywhere if it weren’t for Chloe, but Chloe knows that if she says that out loud Kate will only deny it, so she gives Kate a squeeze and sends her upstairs. Chloe busies herself in the kitchen, trying to focus on setting up the best dinner she can for her girlfriend rather than on the bottomless anger welling up inside of her.

“I just can’t imagine,” Joyce sighs. “And on Christmas Eve, no less! I thought you said they were Christians. What good Christian woman would throw her daughter out on Christmas Eve?”

Chloe shrugs because if she speaks she’ll only shout, and she doesn’t want Kate to hear her yelling and get upset.

Joyce stares at Chloe’s tight shoulders for a moment, her brow furrowed and jaw tensed in contemplation, and she gently takes the plate from Chloe’s hands and puts it into the microwave. “You know that I love you, Chloe. Don’t you?”

Chloe nods, feeling like she might cry or be sick or very possibly both. It isn’t fair. Kate’s the good one. Kate deserves a family that loves and protects her. She deserves better than her mother’s rejection, her father’s inadequacy, Chloe’s bony shoulders to cry on, David’s barely-there tolerance. She deserves the world, and Chloe doesn’t know how to give it to her.

“Oh, Chloe.” Joyce pulls her into a gentle hug, and Chloe’s upset enough that she lets her, sobbing wetly into her mother’s shoulder before she can stop herself. “Chloe, Chloe. We’ll take good care of that girl. She can stay here as long as it takes.”

“Step--”

“I’ll talk to David. Don’t you worry about anythin’, Darlin’.”

Chloe wants to say something cutting about why hasn’t Joyce ‘talked to David’ about not berating her constantly, not invading her privacy, not smacking her around whenever she talks back to him rather than take his shit. But she can hear the shower turning off upstairs and she doesn’t want to get them both kicked out on Christmas Eve with nowhere to go. “Thanks, mom,” she mumbles, wiping her eyes as she pulls out of the embrace. The microwave beeps and Chloe goes to check on the food.

Kate comes downstairs a few minutes later with damp hair hanging around her shoulders, wearing one of her own sleep shirts paired with a severely oversized pair of Chloe’s pajama pants. She’s rolled the cuffs several times and they still drag on the floor. She looks soft and sweet, and Chloe just wants to wrap her up in the protective warmth of her arms and keep her safe forever, never let her go. Chloe draws back the chair in front of Kate’s steaming dinner plate. “Hope you’re hungry. Joyce always makes enough food to feed the whole town around the holidays.”

Kate sits and picks up her fork, giving Chloe a bigger smile than Chloe would’ve expected considering how traumatizing Kate’s night has been so far. “You know, I wasn’t sure I would have an appetite at all, but I’m actually famished.” She scoops up a big dollop of mashed potatoes and gobbles it down, closing her eyes in bliss. Chloe has to smile. Kate really is just too cute. She reaches over and thumbs away a smudge of gravy at the corner of Kate’s mouth. “Your mom’s a really good cook.”

“When she has time, yeah. I, uh. I’m actually a pretty decent cook, too. Had to pick up some of her skillz when it was just the two of us and she was pulling doubles at the diner all the time, y’know?”

“Hmm, good to know.” Kate slowly sets down her fork. “You know… I keep thinking I should feel worse. I should feel worse, shouldn’t I?”

“Probably hasn’t sunk in yet.”

“Maybe. I keep thinking: I should be breaking down, my mother threw me out of the house, my sisters were crying, she’s going to tell them horrible things about me, my father failed to protect me… Most of my life is in that house. My phone, my computer, Alice. But all I can feel is relieved.”

“Relieved.”

Kate nods pensively. “Relieved, and grateful.” She shrugs. “My family knows now. There’s no big secrets left to hide from them. I can stop worrying about what’s going to happen when they find out, because it’s already happened. I can just be my complete self now and not have to worry that it’ll get back to them somehow.” She places her hand over Chloe’s and smiles softly at her. “And grateful because I have you. Because I have a place to go and a person to go to. So many people don’t have that, but I do, and I’m so, so grateful that it’s you.”

Chloe sniffs a little even though she’s not crying - she’s not - and shifts her hand to lock her fingers with Kate’s. “I’m the one who’s grateful for you. I… I wish I had a better place for you to go. Without…” She flails her free hand inarticulately. “Fuckin’ family drama. Without having to look over your damn shoulder in case Sergeant Dickhead’s getting his rage on.”

Kate squeezes Chloe’s hand. “Maybe… Maybe this can be a good thing. Maybe it can be an opportunity for both of us. I was thinking that when I graduate, I’ll want to move out of my parents’ place anyway, find an apartment of my own… I was, um. I was planning to ask if you wanted to join me.”

Chloe blinks rapidly, struggling to keep up. “Wait, like… Get an apartment together? Like, move in together?”

Kate nods shyly. “If you wanted. And now… Maybe it makes sense to start looking sooner. I don’t know if they’re going to keep paying for my dorm room now that I’ve been kicked out, and if they don’t… I mean, even if my dad is willing to keep paying for it, it’s probably better for me to get some distance.” She blushes. “If you want to, of course. It’s okay if you don’t; I didn’t mean to spring this on you so suddenly. I was going to work up to it, try to get a sense of what you wanted to do, if you even wanted to live with me--”

Chloe leans over and kisses Kate hard on the cheek to interrupt her spiral. “I’d love to.”

Kate lights up. “Really?”

“Really. Seriously. I can’t think of anything I’d like better. Our own place? Just you and me, able to decorate shit the way we want, to not have to lie or hide anything or walk on eggshells to keep from pissing off our parents?? Hella yes, I want that!”

“We probably won’t be able to afford anything too nice, and we’ll have to get jobs, but--”

“Fuck, I’m game if you are. I’ll wait tables at the fucking Two Whales if I have to.” Chloe shuts up so that Kate can kiss her. “You and me, Katydid.”

Kate rests her head on Chloe’s shoulder. “You and me. We’re going to make it work.”

“Hell yeah, we are.” Chloe presses another kiss into Kate’s wet hair, and she sits and holds Kate and, for the first time in years, looks forward to the future.

#prompt fill #prompt fic #life is strange #fanfic #pricemarsh #chloe price #kate marsh #ghost writes

20 notes · View notes

teacup-crow · 4 years

Text

Sunset

It’s Zombies, Make! day 2, session one! Thanks @puptart :)

This one was harder than the other two but I got something eventually! Based on prompt 2 (Girls Just Wanna Have Fun) and prompt 3, some really pretty forest pictures!

Jody and Cameo meet up to talk about old times, post S5M40.

CW: implied/referenced torture but nothing graphic at all

“You know, things don’t always have to be death and murder and sadness. We can just hang, like normal people.”

Jody glances at her friend in some disbelief. The two of them are parked out in trees, high above the forest floor, concealed from any zoms or Ministry loyalists who might wander down the path. But it’s quiet, at least for now. She has a flask of ersatz coffee with far too much honey in it, Cameo’s attempt at making things more palatable. In the distance, there’s even birds cooing. Her hands itch for her bow and arrows just hearing the sound, and the thought strikes her as funny. Six years ago, in that other life when she was a bank clerk, the idea of shooting a pigeon for lunch would be absolutely grim to her. Now, she’s already mentally pairing it with wild onions and that red wine stash Ian had stored in the farmhouse cellar, imagining people’s delight around the dinner table. Her people’s delight.

It’s a warm day, and for the first time in a long time, they’ve nowhere to be. She could maybe even let her guard slip for half a second if she isn’t careful.

“You sound like Eleven,” she replies at last, her smile a little thin.

“Well, we spent enough time together. Our stupid boys and their stupid dreams, huh.”

That hurts. Owen’s dopey lovestruck smile shutters into her head with a camera flash. Next, Kytan’s earnest, beaten face, offering her fingerprint-marked bread through the bars of her cell. Even Tom, shaking her awake on a bad night, asking her to hold him until he falls back to sleep.

“Have you seen him since everything happened?”

“Ky? No. He writes me letters, but I’m… not ready for that, you know? I don’t know if I ever will be.”

“I mean… that makes sense. But he didn’t mean to hurt you, Cam. He was only trying to stop you from getting-”

“Doesn’t matter very much what he was trying to do. He still betrayed Five, and that means he betrayed every single one of us. If I choose to be insubordinate to a lunatic, that’s my choice, right?” Cameo shakes her head, her auburn curls finally beginning to grow out again where they were hacked off for some infraction or other glowing warm in the evening sunshine. “Hey! Aren’t I the one who said it doesn’t always have to be death and murder and sadness? Let’s not dwell on it.”

Jody nods, swinging her legs. “Remember how it used to be when we were roommates?”

“Oh my God. The original barracks were an actual nightmare.”

“Kids these days with their four person rooms, they don’t even know they’re born!” They both laugh. “Remember karaoke night?”

“I will never forget karaoke night, unfortunately. Three’s dance moves are printed on my brain forever.”

“I did not expect Five to be a Mariah Carey fan, but there you go.”

“Eugene’s rendition of Girls Just Wanna Have Fun,” Cameo giggles. “Are you going to be reinstating those nights during your leadership Commander Marsh?”

“Don’t call me that,” Jody puts her head in her free hand. “It’s terrifying!”

“Are we going to have to salute you?”

“Stop. It.”

“I can only manage ironic saluting, I’m afraid,” Cameo waves her hand near her forehead mockingly, the universal signal for crazy.

“I’m sure Ian loved that.”

“Oh, he was my biggest fan,” she smirks. She’s expertly whittling some wood, one of those many, many extraordinary skills alongside hacking and beekeeping and being brave to the point of stupidity. Before meeting her, Jody had felt quite accomplished, but Cameo managed to be good at everything she ever tried. And that was valuable.

“Come back home, Thirteen. I need people like you, now more than ever. If I’m going to be in charge of this disaster, I need people I know I can still trust with me. You’ve been there since the very beginning, and…”

“Oh. So this is what this is.”

Jody didn’t expect her tone to be so bitter or accusatory. “What is it?”

“It’s not a catch-up for old time’s sake. It’s not a reminder of things being better. It’s not for fun. It’s trying to drag me back to fulfil a duty I didn’t ever sign up for. My boyfriend is dead; my other boyfriend has lost half his marbles, and I can’t go back because Abel is… it’s tainted. Ian took somewhere I loved and he warped it and now I can’t think of it without feeling this gnawing hunger in my stomach.” Her hands tremble around the knife she’s holding. “You’ve heard of the Stanford prison experiment, yeah? Ordinary people don’t do well when you give them guns and a whole fucking town to beat up on.”

“I’m – I’m sorry. I was supposed to die. Would have, if Tom hadn’t rescued me. I wasn’t supposed to leave you behind.” I never wanted to leave anyone behind.

“I know, but Four… it got so much worse. You left us for so long. And she, she, she let it happen. She let him poison everything, slowly. Turned us all on each other. And it’s broken me. I didn’t know it back then, because I was just trying to survive, but…”

She falls silent, staring down at the wood she’s whittling, her next words so quiet they barely carry between the trees.

“You have to stop her. You just… have to. But I can’t help anymore.”

Jody nods. The sunset glows in the trees. A chapter ends, a new one begins. She begins to climb down, feeling her radio buzz in her pocket.

“Will I see you again?”

“I’m sure you will.”

It isn’t a promise. She didn’t expect that much, but still.

“You’re a stronger woman than me, Jody Marsh.”

“I disagree. But Cammie… one day you are going to see a future. You’re going to heal. You lived through the first time your world ended, and you thrived. You can do it again.”

A thin face peers down from the leaves. “You know, I think you’re going to be a great leader.”

“I’m going to try.”

Cameo nods, and smiles again, and it’s genuine, not borne from forced bravado. Jody smiles back, and turns to run home.

#zombies make #zombies run #zrs5 spoilers #cameo wood #jody marsh

16 notes · View notes

yurtletheturtlehenderson · 4 years

Text

Dating Beverly Marsh Would Include...

Requested: [I'm sorry I can't remember who requested this or if this was an anon, I'm sorry!] Hey, could I request some headcanons about dating Beverly? (Also if you could add in the reader having homophobic parents 💕)

Warnings: obviously there will be homophobia, [at the end so people can skip if they need to read safely 😊] specifically from the readers parents so please feel free to skip if need be. And remember my blog is a safe space 💕 oh yeah theres also plenty of grammar/spelling errors i'm sure

A//n: This was WAY longer than I anticipated. I just kept coming up with more stuff and holy crap I love writing Bev x readers???? Please request more Bev Edit: this was in my drafts forever and again as much as i have been trying to get requests out in order, it's been pretty tough but at least this way stuff gets out sooner so here ya go.

Okay

First of all..

Y'all make the CUTEST COUPLE, OKAY?!

Like no joke

You know that cliche about girls stealing their boyfriends hoodies/clothes??

Well that goes for both of you and you both are always swapping clothes cause you both love each other's sense of style

Plus, ya know, it's got that great boyfriend girlfriend smell

It's cheesy and played out, but it's honestly so wholesome, and again, you guys each have an interest in each others senses of styles

If you're bigger than her, and her clothes don't necessarily fit you, pfffttt no big deal, she had a million blankets that smelled like her and then you two got together and now she can only find like,, two. But that doesn't mean she doesn't love stealing your clothes!! They're baggier on her but oH MY GOODNESS DOES SHE LOVE THAT. She just loves being able to completely immerse herself in your stuff. Especially when she isn't feeling safe in her own home and you aren't around, the best thing for her is to wrap herself in her your stuff and be comforted by you. Uggh, its hella sweet

But let's start from the beginning...

Both of you knew about each other from school

You definitely heard the many rumors about "Beaver-ly Marsh"

Not that you participated, but you were always overhearing rumors from gossiping girls and bragging boys in your class

Your school wasn't huge but it wasn't small either

But it was kill or be be killed, and rumors spread like the damn plague

It was inevitable

And it was just a matter of time before you overheard the several rumors of the "slut" who did it with every guy in school.

You'd roll you're eyes at the word and the ridiculous insinuations, knowing the massively overplayed game of telephone that ruled your school was not necessary the most credible source of information

And you were positive there were rumors about you, I mean, it really wasn't possible to go to that school without a rumor going around

Everyone had one

Anyways, you never paid much attention to them, but then you met her...

And oh no.

Immediately, it was:

You already never paid much mind to the rumors, but when you got to know each other??

Nuh uh.

No way

Not Beverly

No no no no, no

She was way too sweet, and shy, and beautiful, and awesome, and funny, annnd oh no the damn butterflies were back and shit she made you feel things

And you??

Bevery had no clue she was into girls until you came along...

You were her gay awakening and her being so used to all those nasty things people said about her and all those boys??

Even though it wasn't true, any of it, she still always expected that eventually one day she'd get her first boyfriend, to love and cuddle with and everything normal

Again, then you came along and her heart was all like

BOOM BOOM BEECH

You both danced around each other a lot. Seeing as you were two precious little gay beans that lived in a conservative town in the 80s, it wasn't exactly the most accepting environment and you guys didn't know if the other was into girls at all

On both sides it was "does she like me or is she just really laid back and friendly???"

It took way too long to figure out you were both into each other

If I'm being completely honest here, y'all were like the female reddie

Two girls who became best friends and always bickered like crazy to hide your feelings

The way you two found out you had feelings for one another was bumpy and awkward but silly and cute nonetheless

It came off in a passing comment that just slipped out

The two of you were having a sleepover like you did every Friday night you were available

and you two were laying on her bedroom floor talking about anything and everything staring at the ceiling

Her radio was playing in the background and the two of you were surrounded by various snacks you had been munching on all throughout the night and the conversation drifted to gossip about your peers at school

It went a little something like this:

Y: "Did you see so and so today??"

B: "Yes!!"

Y: *laughing* "Yeah, what the hell was that?"

B: I have no idea what goes on in her head...

B: but I guess I gotta give her some credit, she's always super confident and I'm like, 90% sure that's what makes her the most desirable girl in the 8th grade"

Y: "I guess that makes sense"

B: "I do wish I had her confidence. Maybe I'd have better luck romantically"

Y: "Oh please, like you need that. You're infinitely more attractive than her"

B: "What?"

Y: *panicked* "What?"

B: *slowly sits up with smug ass smirk on her lips* are you saying you find me... attractive?"

Y: ..."what?" *sweating*

B: *still smirking* "Wait,"

Y: "WhAT?"

B: *stILL smirking* "do you-?"

Y: *full on gay panic* "No!"

B: *smirking and blushing*

B: *lays back down* "well, I think you're pretty attractive yourself, if it's any consolation"

She's still so nervous though so it comes out in a whisper

She's 99 percent certain you just accidentally revealed your crush to her but her heart was p o u n d i n g anyway

What if it just came out wrong and that's why you panicked???

Had she just revealed her crush to you by mistake???

But no

You both were a blushing mess and it did not go unnoticed by either one of you

You're hands kinda accidently brushed and you both just had a heart attack on the spot

But the connection you two had that night

You both just... knew

You guys kinda just... happened

After that you both were aware you liked each other

But it was kind of unspoken

At first

It's not like you guys never talked about it, but you two definitely became more touchy and flirty

Holding hands when no one was looking

Shortly before you guys happened and before that night, she had introduced you to losers and they just totally accepted you as one of their own

You got along especially well with Richie (wonder why)

But Bev wasn't too happy about this particular fact...

Especially after you two got together

She wasn't necessarily jealous, especially cause she already had a sneaking suspicion about his feelings for another loser, but because he took up a lot of her time with you

But then, to her chagrin, Richie found out about you two

the eight of you were hanging out in the clubhouse, and Ben had to make some adjustments so him and the others left momentarily to help him get the resources

Except you, and Bev

You two volunteered to hold down the fort [literally]

aaaaaaand you two wanted to have a few minutes alone together too,

Nothing scandalous or anything like that, but you two didn't get be close around the losers

Then Richie returned way earlier than expected [turns out he was doing more harm than good and they sent him back]

He was just outside the entrance and he overheard you two

"I wish we could tell them,"

"I know. And it's not that I don't think they'll accept us, it's-" *sigh* "I'm just not ready... I'm sorry"

"Don't be. It's okay, we can tell them when we're both good and ready."

"Thank you, Y/n."

Richie just kinda stood there thinking about what he just heard

I mean, it made sense, you guys were really close, but then again, that's just how he thought all girls were

But everything else kinda made more sense the more he thought about it

And, it honestly reminded him of him and Eddie

More specifically, how he felt about his best friend

Now naturally this was a very emotional moment, but Richie Tozier being Richie Tozier wasn't about to waltz in there and give some sappy speech about he accepts you guys and he's here for you no matter what

No, no, no

He laid down on the forest floor, sticking his head in the clubhouse scaring the shit out of you two and said

"You guys should really be more quiet, Ben may be a suspiciously good overnight kid architect sensation but he has yet to soundproof this baby"

He then stuck his arm inside the clubhouse, patting the ceiling, shaking a couple spiders loose from his his hand in disgust

"Richie...!"

You two jumped apart and you about nearly shit your pants

"Relax, I'm not gonna tell anyone,"

You both were startled as hell and absolutely disgruntled but the two of you looked at each other, simultaneously breathing a sigh of relief

He got up and joined you two in the clubhouse, and began lounging in his usual spot in the hammock, arms behind his head

"So, this means you two are both into girls, huh?"

Once again, you looked at one another and back at him, nodding shyly

He plastered on the most mischievous smirk you had ever seen and nodded his head, his huge eyes squinting slightly from behind his glasses

"niceee"

This of course was followed by simultaneous eye rolls, Bev even threw her gum wrapper at him but you laughed

It was a relieved laugh

Here you were, exposed and unintentionally outed to Richie "Trashmouth" Tozier and sure enough his reaction was "nICE"

It was honestly a relief and kinda hilarious

You guys just kinda broke out into laughter

It was nice moment

***TRIGGER WARNING FOR [PARENTAL] HOMOPHOBIA BELOW***

And for a while, everything was great. That was, until your parents began to take note just how much time you were spending with Bev

They kept an eye on it at first

Then they started asking questions

You knew this day would come one way or another

Hell, you grew up with them after all, you knew what they thought about people like you and it broke your heart

It terrified you

And it's exactly what you heard every night when you tried to fall asleep, their voices speaking to you clear as day; how disgusted they were. They weren't really there of course and it wasn't until you became a loser that you found out what that voice was...

The point is, your deepest fear was being realized so you did what you could do

Lie

And it seemed to work. Briefly

Your mother had come in to check on you two for the fifth time - usually she checked on you two four times since their suspicions - and found you two snuggled up on top of your sleeping bags

Your mother screamed, scaring the crap out of you guys and you jumped apart

Your mother was thrown into hysterics and went to fetch your father, wailing like a damn baby

Needless to say that night was a long one for everyone

And as if things couldn't get any worse, just days later you found out that Beverly had been taken by It

Immediately, every doubt, every fear, every inkling of shame your parents and your community had drilled into you was forgotten and all that mattered was getting her back

You and your friends literally went through hell to get her back

Needless to say it was a terrifying ordeal but you all had each other's backs and everyone came out okay

When you left Neibolt, you and Beverly were hand in hand

You couldn't give a flying fck about it, you just fought a shape-shifting demon clown you could face your small minded parents

And more importantly you knew even if your parents didn't support you, you had other people who did that and that was enough

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Hope you enjoyed, sorry it's so long and again this is out of order of who requested it so I'm sorry to those of you who had stuff in before this, but I've just been stuck for too long and I needed to get things moving again. Anyways, I hoped you guys like this and again, omg I love writing Beverly!!! I would not be offended if you guys asked for more Bev fics/hc when I open up requests again

#beverly marsh headcanon request #beverly marsh imagine #beverly marsh x reader #beverly marsh #headcanon #head canon #beverly marsh headcanon #beverly marsh head canon #bev head canon #beverly hc #beverly marsh hc #bev marsh hc #hc #hc request #homphobia #homophobia warning #it #it requests #it request

139 notes · View notes

shipaholic · 3 years

Text

Omens Universe, Chapter 14, Part 1

Warnings! Asphyxiation, child endangerment.

Link to next part at the end. (From the beginning)

(last part)

(chrono)

---

Chapter 14

Oh.

Shit.

Zadkiel grabbed Adam. His hands engulfed the boy’s shoulders. Had he always been this tiny? Focus, focus -

“Adam, reality will listen to you. You are in control. Anything that you believe will come true.” Desperation tried to worm into his voice. He held it at bay. “Listen to me. You can hear me talking, right? That means there’s air. You can breathe, you just have to believe there’s air. Come on now.”

Spacedog was hollering. Adam clutched the dog to his chest, painfully tight. His arms were as pale as death.

Zadkiel made a strangled noise. He pulled Adam into a bear hug and dived.

Proxima Centauri B rushed up to meet him. He was breaking most laws of physics right now. He punched through the atmosphere, and didn’t bother to slow his descent as they streaked to the ground, miles of hard earth and marbled mud coming in fast -

Zadkiel burned through the alien sky, flaming like a meteor, and pasted himself on the rocky landscape.

His one safety protocol was to make sure Adam landed on top of him.

With a small explosion, Crowley and Aziraphale were flung apart like rag dolls.

Spacedog wriggled free and tried to lick Adam’s face. The space helmet got in the way. Spacedog pushed it into Adam’s cheek and frantically licked the glass. He whined, a piteous, unbroken sound.

The sprawled bodies did not move.

Then Adam’s face gave a twitch.

“Stop that, you silly Spacedog.”

Spacedog yapped his head off and ran around in circles.

Adam flexed his fingers, experimentally. They still held the Book.

Crowley and Aziraphale realised they had escaped being discorporated. To their dismay, this meant they had to move. They managed to roll over and flop towards Adam and each other. Sitting up could wait.

“You alright, Adam?” Crowley said without moving his lips.

Adam got the gist, even with none of the consonants. “Yeah. Thanks. It’s cool that you did that without being in a rocket.”

“Hell yeah,” Crowley managed.

“I’m so sorry, my dear boy,” Aziraphale said to Adam, just slightly more coherently than Crowley. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“He’s fine, children bounce,” Crowley said, his eyes closed.

Aziraphale tutted. “You’re incorrigible,” he said. Or tried to. It proved a little too difficult in his current state.

Crowley cracked an eye open. “Did you say I’m ineffable?”

“In. Corri. Gible.”

“Good. We don’t use that kind of language in front of the kid.”

Adam sat up, wincing. Spacedog leapt into his arms and tried once more to mash the fishbowl helmet into his face.

~*~

When they’d all recovered a bit, they took in their surroundings.

Crowley had been to the Grand Canyon. Proxima Centauri B was like that, but stranger. Its winding rock tunnels and quarries were an odd, half-melted brown. The sun was low in the sky, either setting or rising, no-one was sure. It was a shockingly pinkish-red, in a night sky tinged a deeper, richer purple than any twilight on Earth.

Crowley tried to appreciate it. It was home, now. And presumably, forever.

Perhaps he just wasn’t in the mood. They were all a bit on-edge. Aziraphale kept sneaking glances at Adam to check he was still breathing. The damn green dog seemed perfectly at home, but that just put Crowley in a worse mood.

He skulked at the back of the group, hands in his pockets. Aziraphale fell back and stood beside him.

“You changed back,” he said, nodding to Crowley’s outfit.

“Eh, yeah. White was never my colour.”

“I suspect it isn’t mine, either,” Aziraphale said, softly.

Crowley’s gaze slipped over the brown and blue and gold of him.

“No. You’ve a bit more character than that,” he said.

Aziraphale smiled up at him from under his lashes. There was a flicker of intent to that look. Heat crawled up Crowley’s neck.

Adam giggled nearby as Spacedog swam laps around his head. They turned to watch him.

“Do you think he’s still the Antichrist, out here?” Aziraphale said.

“Is that a, strand the King of Spain in outer space, is he still a King, kind of thing?”

“I suppose that’s an interesting question. Although I meant it more in a, does he still have his powers out here, kind of thing.”

Crowley’s eyes lingered on the frolicking dog. He sighed. “I think he probably does.”

Aziraphale looked grim. “Poor old Earth,” he murmured.

Crowley shook his head. “If we’d just got on the portal and not let him yammer on about the dog…”

“I didn’t think,” Aziraphale said, sadly.

“Me neither. And I’ve got no excuse. Beelzebub briefed us on that hellhound for an entire Thursday afternoon.”

They watched the boy and dog in silence.

“I suppose it is the Earth that will still - ahm. Be affected by his powers?”

“How do you mean?”

“There’s no chance he’s brought Armageddon with him?”

They stared at each other. They peered at the sky. No sudden rains of blood or other omens appeared.

“Nah, reckon it’s probably still going to happen on Earth.”

Aziraphale looked miserable.

Crowley put a hand on his arm. “Hey. All we could do was get out.”

“I know.”

“Don’t torture yourself.”

Aziraphale mustered a weak smile.

They watched Adam rooting around for a stick to throw for Spacedog. He found a sturdy one right at his feet that was the right size and hurled it across the marsh. Spacedog took off after it, yipping. It was unclear how, in the helmet, he was going to bring it back.

“There isn’t any wood on this planet,” Aziraphale said, carefully.

Crowley nodded glumly. “Guess that confirms it. Reality still bends to his will.” He thought for a moment. “Come to think of it, I doubt this planet has much of an atmosphere.”

“Mmm, yes. That should have been our first clue.”[1]

“I think a regular child would have frozen to death while he was floating in space.” And/or exploded. Crowley felt he’d seen something like that in a film once.

“...This wasn’t a very child-friendly plan, was it?”

“You’re just noticing this now? We kidnapped an eleven-year-old from his parents.”

“You talked me into it.”

“Of course I did. Demon.”

“A temptation worthy of a commendation,” Aziraphale said, with only a trace of a scolding.

Crowley turned and slipped his arms around Aziraphale’s neck.

“They’ll have to put it in a cannon and fire it into space. Hope it reaches me in a few thousand years.”

Aziraphale chuckled. It was a wonderfully warm, wry sound. It always sounded like he knew he was getting away with something. Crowley watched the tips of his hair stain pink in the alien sun.

Suddenly, Aziraphale’s face fell.

“Crowley, we don’t have to teach him maths, do we?”

~*~

Half an hour later, the euphoria wore off.

Adam trudged across the squishy, marshy ground, investigating his new territory. Spacedog trotted at his heels. Aziraphale and Crowley stood and kept an eye on him from a distance. It was nice, like an amiable family walk across a muddy field in late September.

And then, like an amiable family walk across a muddy field in late September, the mood soured. The mud that had been fun to tromp through sunk through the soles of the walking shoes that were supposed to be waterproof. The rustic landscape grew dreary. That cow had a mean look in its eye.

In other words, it dawned on Adam that he hadn’t eaten for hours, the alien planet all looked the same for miles around, there was a shocking dearth of cinemas, sweet shops or comic books in this area of the galaxy, he would never see his family again, and he had very recently almost died. Also, he forgot to bring snacks.

A suspicion had brewed at the back of his mind for a few hours now. It bubbled away, growing, gaining certainty. Now, grubby, cold and hungry, it was time to ask.

“Are you two actually aliens?”

Aziraphale and Crowley were having a murmured grown-up conversation behind him. They stopped. Their faces went blank in the way grown-up’s faces went when they were thinking how to lie to him.

“Perhaps it’s time to drop the pretence,” Aziraphale whispered.

Crowley frowned. “It’s not like the truth is any less weird.”

“I dislike lying, on general principle.”

“I’m in favour of lying, on general principle. Let’s compromise and say nothing.”

“You know full well that would be a lie of omission. Don’t think I’m going to start falling for tricks like that after six thousand years -”

“Would you both just stop talking?” Adam said loudly.

They shut up.

“You’re always talking rubbish and I don’t understand it.”

Adam frowned. He held the Book under one arm. For a moment, he heard its pages rustle.

“My whole life is just everyone talking rubbish at me, all the time. Nothing anyone’s ever told me made any sense. Like the stuff about how I was going to destroy the world. And then you two, with the alien stuff. I just believed it because everything was so weird, it’s not like aliens could be any weirder. The only person I’ve ever met who seemed like they properly knew what was going on was that woman back in the car. She’s the one who left me this.” He hefted the Book in his arms. “I’ve got more proper answers from this than I’ve got from anyone, ever.”

“What is that?”

Aziraphale took a step towards him.

Adam’s arms tightened around the Book. Spacedog leapt in front of him and growled.

Aziraphale blinked and halted. Crowley held out an arm.

A chill wind picked up.

“That woman was the only person who seemed like she wanted to help me and tell me what was really going on, and she said I shouldn’t leave. She said it was a mistake to leave. And I didn’t listen. And you zapped her away.” Adam pointed at Crowley.

Crowley inched backwards. “Hang on, I was under a lot of stress…”

“And you grew wings and flew around that bookshop. Aliens don’t do that. You didn’t look like an alien, back then, you looked more like…”

Adam stopped.

“I shouldn’t have come with you,” he muttered.

Aziraphale and Crowley stared at each other.

“You remember you forced us to bring you, right?” Crowley pointed out. “Just saying.”

Aziraphale frowned and nudged him.

The wind whipped at them. Adam was only in a t-shirt. He wasn’t cold.

“I want to go home,” he said.

It was not the lament of a lost child. The words resonated around the landscape. Aziraphale and Crowley felt them down to the bones.

A whirring pulse sounded from high above them, faintly. Nobody glanced up, but a prickle of warning ran up their necks.

“I don’t have to be here. You said reality will listen to me. She said the same thing. In this book.”

An emerald-green spotlight shone down on Adam. The wind became a roaring gale. It whipped Adam’s t-shirt. He stared down Aziraphale and Crowley through eyes that were suddenly dark under the livid green light.

Crowley squinted into the sky.

He said, “What.”

Aziraphale kept his eyes on Adam. Carefully, as though the boy were a skittish animal, he raised his hands towards him.

“Adam, we were not honest with you. I apologise. It is our fault you are in this mess. There are forces at work that it was too difficult to explain to you. You see -”

“Angel, you should take a look at this,” Crowley interrupted.

“Not now, Crowley!”

“Aziraphale, it’s a goddamned flying saucer.”

Aziraphale looked up.

A round, whirring alien spacecraft hovered in the sky above them.

“What,” he said.

Adam stood in the disco-glow of the green spotlight. Furious pulses of wind flapped down on him. He met Crowley’s eyes with a long, hard stare. Spacedog’s hackles rose.

Crowley blinked first. He edged back, one hand on Aziraphale’s arm.

The flying saucer whirred and spun. In a series of loops, it meandered down to the surface of Proxima Centauri B. It let out a gust of steam as it settled like a soggy cake.

A door opened in its side with a hiss.

A ramp descended, and three aliens got out. Two of them were green. The third was a small hump with wheels and an egg-whisker sticking out of it. It quickly got stuck in a marshy patch and made some angry distress noises that the other two ignored.

Adam stood like a king greeting foreign dignitaries as the remaining two aliens walked over to him.

“Hello,” he said.

The alien leader, who had a face like a duck,[2] approached first. “Adam Dowling?”

Adam squinted up at her. The spotlight was still blinding. “Yeah, that’s me.”

“All right, sir. I believe you called for a taxi service.” The alien looked slightly put out to be used as such, but she hid it well. “We’re here to take you back to Earth.”

“Erm,” Crowley said. “Hang on.”

Everyone ignored him, to his relief. He had no idea what he would have said next.

Adam followed the aliens back to their saucer. The slightly taller alien helped the pepper-pot alien back up from where it had tipped over in the mud.

“Wait - Adam -” Aziraphale called.

Crowley put an arm around him. Neither moved to follow. Without speaking, they conceded that this was going to happen whether or not they found it plausible.

The three aliens shuffled back up the gangplank. The round, beeping alien left a long streak of mud as it trundled inside the spaceship. Adam and Spacedog walked behind them.

A scrap of paper flapped loose from inside the Book. The wind carried it directly to Aziraphale. He caught it reflexively.

Adam reached the top of the gangplank and vanished without a backward glance. The spaceship door sealed shut.

The spaceship made a Whomm Whomm Whomm noise and floated into the air. It wobbled a bit, and then streaked into the stratosphere, leaving a green comet trail behind it.

The howling gale abruptly blew itself out. The planet’s surface was deafeningly quiet.

Nothing broke the calm but a tiny green speck in the sky, already winking out of sight.

---

[1] When you only breathe out of habit, you stop thinking about things like oxygen.

[2] “Ducks,” Crowley almost blurted, as a Pavlovian response.

(Link to next part)

#omens universe fic #omens universe #good omens fic #good omens #ineffable husbands #steven universe #ahhhhh the most batshit chapter of all #bless #I enjoy those aliens #the Dalek-y one is from Book Omens #I'm pretty sure I stole all the jokes about it from there but it's been a little while since I read it #I'm sorry about how hard I went with the cartoon physics I don't know how space works and none of these idiots do either

3 notes · View notes

mitchsmarners · 4 years

Text

i took too many hits off this memory [i need to come down]

pairing: eddie kaspbrak/richie tozier [reddie] & beverly marsh/kay mccall [mcmarsh] rating: teen audiences and up chapter warnings: q slur, internalized homophobia, sexual content, word count: 4,777 chapter count: 2 of ? summary: Eddie Kaspbrak doesn’t remember much from his childhood. He doesn’t really know he doesn’t remember. He also doesn’t know why he’s so drawn this terrible comedian on tv, but when Eddie runs into him in a bar, and they spend the night together, Eddie’s life is changed forever. It’s finally back on track- and he doesn’t know anything about it

read on ao3. moodboard by @kaspzier

perma taglist: @jwilliambyers, @stebbins, @kaspzier, @s-s-georgie, @chaotickaspbrak, @eddiefuckinkaspbrak, @edstozler, @emgays, @anellope, @thorn-harvester-ven, @wheezyeds, @vipertooth, @tozierking, @billdenbrough, @sydinastans @itfandomprompts, @loserslibrary (let me know if you want added!)

TWO YEARS LATER

Eddie Kaspbrak cringed as the stench of the place hit his nose. He turned his face away and tried to discreetly press the sleeve of his sweater to face to ward it away. Kay McCall turned to face him and grabbed hold of his arm. “What have I been telling you?” She said sharply. “Stop passing judgement before you’ve experienced anything.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. In the two years since he’d walked away from his relationship with Myra- or more accurately, forced her to walk away from it- Eddie had grown to accept that part of him he was sure he’d been running away from since his youth. There were dim, blurry memories of being a kid with sweaty hands and a pounding heart but he could never touch them. Sometimes, in his dreams, Eddie was sure he did- but they were gone when he woke up, leaving only a vague feeling of yearning left behind.

He’d met Kay McCall nearly a year and a half earlier at the community center when Eddie had been having meetings to help with some ongoing mental health issues. It seemed that over decades of repression couldn’t just be turned off by coming out of the closet and ran much deeper. Kay had been an irreplaceable piece of Eddie’s self acceptance. Without her persistence that Eddie go out, that Eddie experience all these positive things, Eddie didn’t doubt for a second that he would have been sitting alone every weekend for the last two years.

And he hadn’t been, that was a beautiful thing. Eddie had gone out, he’d gone to clubs and bars and parades. He’d painted his body in neon colours and danced under black lights. He’d had a few short lived relationship with men Eddie would have allowed himself to look twice at before. Eddie had come to trust Kay blindly in every activity she suggested. Until tonight.

“I fucking hate comedians.”

“So you keep saying,” Kay said. “But you refuse to give me any sort of reasonable explanation to why that is, so I’ve chosen to continue to ignore you.”

Eddie shook his head, and scowled at the ground. He wasn’t entirely how to begin to explain his animosity towards comedians. How could he explain the broken, faded memory of a comedian, a hotel room and a name that always seemed to be on the tip of his tongue?

“I’m only doing this for your stupid date.” Eddie said stubbornly. “You say this girl is the real deal, and I’m choosing to believe you. This better be serious.”

Kay rolled her eyes. It was, of course. Eddie knew that Kay had had many partners since they’d become friends, some lasting for weeks and Eddie possibly even getting a name, but Kay had never - not once- invited Eddie to meet one of her girlfriends before now.

“I don’t know anything about this guy. I Googled him, he’s some white dude. Reggie or something. Very mixed reviews.” Kay said simply. “Beverly seems to think he’s the best thing that’s ever happened to comedy, and I’m letting her pick the date so here we are.”

Eddie raised his brow but knew better than to say anything. Kay grabbed Eddie by the arm and didn’t so much guide him through the crowd as yanked him. This was fine. This was used to and expected. What wasn’t expected was the soft, almost bashful smile when a short, redhead girl pushed her way through the crowd and ran up to them.

‘Hey,” she said, almost out of breath. She and Kay held long eye contact until Eddie cleared his throat. When Beverly turned and met Eddie’s gaze, his breath caught suddenly in his throat and he wondered for the first time in many years if he’d need to use his inhaler. Beverly’s eyes blew wide for a moment, her mouth opened then clapped back shut just as suddenly. She seemed to almost shake herself, then offered her hand out.

“Beverly.” She said with a sweet smile. “My friends can call me Bev.”

“Eddie.” Eddie shook her hand quickly, and Beverly didn’t say anything when Eddie immediately pulled a small bottle of hand sanitizer from his jeans pocket. “Tell me more about this bozo, but Kay is not convincing at all.”

“I understand the skepticism.” Beverly said as she draped an arm around Kay’s shoulders. Eddie watched for a moment and waited for Kay to shrug her touch off, but no rejective motion happened. “But trust me, this guy Richie is actually good. He’s come a long way in the last couple years, and I don’t know, he talks about chicks a lot but I get a bit of a gay vibe-”

Eddie’s hearing buzzed out, brain seemed to float right out of his ear and out of the bar. Richie… comedian… his heart was suddenly at risk of exploding right out of his chest. He pressed his hand against his hand to his chest, able to feel his heartbeat through his shirt and sweater. Blurry memory began to ring into focus.

“I fucking hate comedians.” Eddie lied under his breath. Nobody listened. They moved to their seats that was being held by a tall, thin man with blonde hair that seemed to already be balding at the top and an orange stain on his shirt. Eddie stopped and turned to the two women.

“I didn’t agree to a double date.” Eddie said sharply. “Especially not a blind, surprise double date.”

Beverly glanced away, biting at her thumb nail but Kay held Eddie’s gaze without a flinch. “Eddie. You haven’t been laid in what- four months? Just give him a chance.”

Eddie glanced back at his supposed date and watched as wiped snot from his nose on the sleeve of his hoodie. Eddie and Bev pulled mirrored looks of disgust. “Not fucking happening.”

“Sorry.” Beverly said quietly to him. “He was kind of the only person available and Kay didn’t tell me until tonight that she wanted a date for you and-”

“And you don’t have to fuck that guy, because he’s pretty disgusting.” Kay broke in with exasperation. Eddie glared at him. “But are you getting some tonight, I’m going to make sure of it.”

Eddie thought of how his stomach had been in butterflies since he’d heard Richie’s name, and how his face was still burning, and wasn’t so sure that was going to be an issue. The lights began to dim before Eddie could give any sort of response, negative or positive, and they all quickly moved to their seats. Eddie silently thanked a God he wasn’t sure he believed in that there wasn’t time to introduce him to the dirty date before the show began.

In complete honesty, Eddie couldn’t tell you much about the show itself. He thought at one point, he’d noticed that Richie’s jokes had gotten better than what he’d listened to years before but he didn’t have enough memory of the old stand up to be sure. It still wasn’t good by any means, but the crowd seemed to eat it up. He thought maybe Richie seemed a little more passionate, a little more comfortable, and that made a world of a different even with shitty dirty jokes.

“That guy was hilarious.” Eddie’s “date” said as he wiped the barbeque sauce from their chicken wings his hands on his jeans.

Eddie looked through the crowd at nothing, simply for an excuse to not look at the date he hadn’t bothered to learn the name of. In his haste to keep his eye line away, it took Eddie a moment to realize where it had landed. Not until he realized that he’d accidentally caught the eye of none other than Richie Tozier himself.

Eddie as good as vomited his heart up into his mouth when Richie winked at him. His stomach fluttered and he broke out into a cold sweat across the back of his neck. Richie whispered something to the shorter man by his side- a boyfriend? His manager, maybe- and then he was walking towards them.

“Heya, Eds.” Richie said with an easy grin. “Long time no see.”

Kay turned to Eddie with wide eyes, mouth half open, and Beverly had a confused frown on her face. Eddie wanted the Earth to open up and swallow him whole. “Yep.” Eddie said begrudgingly. “Richie, this is my best friend, Kay, and her friend Beverly.”

“Friend?” Richie challenged as he took and shook Kay’s hand.

She raised her brow at him. “Girlfriend.” She said angrily. “Is that a problem?”

Eddie pursed his lips to hide a smile as Richie let out a soft laugh. “Trust me, ladies. It is the opposite of a problem.”

Beverly gasped and slapped at Richie’s shoulder. “Hey, hey! Careful, Red!” Richie said, but he was laughing. “If security sees you knocking me around, it won’t be too good for you.”

Beverly just laughed at him. “I knew you were gay. I fucking knew it.” An odd expression came over Richie’s face then, and Eddie almost felt bad for him. “We gays have a sense about this. You’ll get there. It comes with coming out.”

Richie’s face blocked them out. “I’m out to the people who matter to me.”

“And portraying yourself as straight asshole for the world to see.” Beverly said with a shrug. “Sure, it’s funny and it sells, but don’t you think it would be more impactful if you were a gay comedian?”

“I AM a gay comedian.” Richie said sharply. “And if I started telling jokes about being gay and fucking men from bars, I’d be an unemployed gay comedian.”

“Hey.” Eddie said softly. His eyes were on Kay and Beverly, put he hoped that Richie could sense that the words he directed at them were for his benefits. “It’s not an easy thing to do. You should know not to push people.”

A silence settled over them, the buzz of the bar behind them, and Eddie began to fidget where he stood. Richie cleared his throat and scratched the back of his neck. “Listen-” he said, pursing his lips. “I’m supposed to go to some sort of big name after party now, stupid publicity garbage.”

Eddie tried not to feel disappointed, but Richie kept talking.

“But that’s not really my thing. I’ve never cared about publicity before.” Richie said with a grin. “So, I’ve got a bunch of better ideas. If you guys are down.”

Beverly’s eyes blew open wide. “For real? Are you serious?”

Richie reached out and pinched Eddie’s cheeks. “Course. Any friends of Eds are friends of mine.” Eddie swatted Richie’s hands away, stubbornly refusing to look at Kay despite how much of an effort she was putting into meeting his gaze.

“Well, hell yeah!” Kay said as she pushed on a dazed Beverly’s shoulders. “Let’s fucking go!”

“Let’s fucking go!” Richie repeated, looking at Kay with a mixture of awe and wariness. Richie wrapped an arm around Eddie’s waist and squeezed his hip once. Then let go quickly, gesturing wildly towards the back door. Richie walked towards it and Beverly began to immediately skip after him, her face light up like that of a child.

Kay turned slowly to Eddie, brows raised and a soft smirk settled on her lips. “So… does he have anything to do with you hating comedians?”

Eddie frowned. Did he? Eddie hadn’t thought about Richie Tozier since… well, probably since Richie had gotten on that plane in New York that same day. He had vague memories of meeting a guy in a bar who prompted his spilt from Myra, a weird twinge in his stomach that told him it was the best sex he’d ever had, but until tonight he hadn’t been able to put that memory to a face. But now? Yeah. That face was Richie Tozier. But Eddie didn’t hate that experience, not at all, it was a good one. A life changing one. Not one that prompted hatred or hard feelings.

“No.” Eddie said with a roll of his eye. “I hate comedians because they make their living being not funny about minorities and as a marginalized person,-”

“Alright.” Kay tossed an arm around Eddie’s shoulders and started guiding him towards the back door. “We all get it. You’re a big-time activist now, we did a good job with you, Kaspbrak. Now our next task is getting you to let your hair down.”

“My hair is always down.” Eddie said with a smile. Kay bounced on her toes and kissed him on the cheek. They pushed out the back door at Eddie’s mouth dropped open at the sight of the limo parked out back. Beverly was inside, her head poking out the sun roof. Richie was leaning against the car door, smoking.

“Hasn’t anybody ever told you those things will kill you?” Eddie asked, knowing his voice was all too cheerful. Richie looked up at him and grinned.

“With the lifestyle I live?” Richie asked with a wave of his head. “Something is going to kill me long before my smoking habits do.”

Eddie didn’t like the twinge that settled in his stomach at Richie’s joke and he forced a smile. Richie clasped Eddie on the shoulder and he helped usher Eddie into the back. Kay dove in after them, and Eddie found himself pressed right up against Richie’s side. He could feel the heat radiating off him and Eddie’s heart began to race in his chest. He fought the urge to lean up against him completely, telling himself that he needed to maintain at least the slightest hint of dignity in this situation.

Beverly kept her head out the sun roof for the first several minutes of the ride, and her hair was a bird’s nest when she dropped back inside, grinning from ear to ear. Eddie couldn’t help back grin back. “So where are we going?” Beverly asked, messing with her hair in a furitious attempt to tame the mess. “Never did tell us.”

Richie let out a long, exhale of smoke from the joint between his fingers and grinned lazily at her. “You get into car’s with strangers and it takes you nearly fifteen minutes to ask where they’re taking you?”

Beverly shrugged, still grinning. “I’d get in anybody’s limo, stranger or not.”

Richie shook his head, eyes half open. He offered the joint over to Eddie, who’s breath caught in his throat. “Oh, no, I have-”

“ASTHMA, ASSHOLE.” Eddie cried, smacking at Richie’s shoulders. Richie laughed, and fell backwards against the dirt and grass. They were sitting up at the top of the Quarry, feet dangling over the edges, as the sun went down in front of them. Richie had been working at a joint for the better part of a couple minutes, and Eddie had been choosing to ignore it until Richie had offered it over to him.

“I think we both know that you don’t.” Richie replied, and there was something all too appealing about Richie when he was high. Eddie supposed he always found Richie appealing, though he’d never admit it to another living, breathing human (and certainly not to Richie) but the way Richie almost seemed to turn into lower power mode when he was high just held Eddie’s interest so intensely. It was Richie he was still getting to know, barely beginning to understand. And that captivated him.

“Put that shit out.” Eddie demanded. “Put it out or I swear to God I’ll throw it over the edge.”

“Oh, really? And you’ll buy me more then.” Richie said and waggled his eyebrows. “For all you know, Eds, this could be all I’ve got left.”

“I don’t care how much you have!” Eddie cried. “And I would not be buying you more because it’s illegal and you shouldn’t even have this in the first place, you know? You know all about the health risks just as well as I do!”

“Nobody knows any health risks as well as you do, Eddie Kaspbrak.” Richie pointed out, before taking another hit of the joint. Eddie watched his lips intently as the smoke blew out through him and he tried to force his heart race to slow down. This was a new feeling for Eddie, over the last few months. Richie doing little things that made Eddie feel like he’d just run a marathon. It was harder to pretend that Richie Tozier didn’t affect him deeply.

“You know things people tell you about health is bullshit, though.” Richie continued, but Eddie was a little more focused on Richie’s fingers pulling on his own bottom lip as though he’d just remembered he had one. His legs and hands kept occasionally twitching and Eddie’s eyes followed the motion each time. “It’s just what the man wants you to think. Weed is good for us, and they want to keep it from us because they can’t make money off it.”

“You’re such a fucking a stoner, Rich, oh my God.” Eddie rolled his eyes but he couldn’t help the little giggles that were building up in his chest.

“So you really aren’t going to have any? Not even for me? Your bestest friend?” Richie held the joint out towards Eddie, and spending so much time with Richie, Stan and Beverly the smell of the weed didn’t bother him as much as it used to. That fact made him uneasy.

“Bestest isn’t a word.” Eddie replied, turning his eyes back to the sky.

Richie scoffed. “Oh, okay. Whatever. You aren’t gonna have any at all? Eddie? Eds? Ed-”

“Earth to Eddie!” Kay’s voice suddenly caught through his mind.

Eddie jumped in the seat, suddenly aware that the limo was moving and Richie was still holding the joint out in his direction. Eddie looked slowly over Richie’s face, his heart hammering in his chest and his brain reeling to find a grasp on reality. Real or not real. “What?” He asked, voice coming out almost a hoarse whisper.

“Do you want a hit?” Richie asked him lazily, the paper burning and wasting between his fingers has he watched Eddie.

“No, I have-” Eddie broke off again, brain buzzing inside his head and heart picking the pace back up.

Richie raised his eyebrows. “Have what?”

Eddie cleared his throat and reached his fingers out for Richie’s joint. “Nothing. Give it to me.” Richie handed it over willingly and as Eddie put the joint between his lips, something deep inside told him that this wasn’t his first time smoking weed.

Richie patted his back, and made soothing sounds as Eddie coughed and his chest burned. “It’s alright, dude. The more you cough, the higher you get.”

A familiar phrase. Familiar. A word that Eddie Kaspbrak would like to stop applying to Richie Tozier, because it never failed to make him feel on edge. Before Eddie could feel anything besides the tightness in his chest, the limo was suddenly taking a left and skidding across something that felt much more like dirt than any real road.

“Where are we going?” Beverly asked, from where she’d draped herself across Kay’s lap once returning inside from the sun roof. Eddie thought that maybe this weed was laced with something, because there was no way Kay McCall was just letting some girl lay in her lap and there was zero possibility that she was actually running her fingers through the girl’s long red hair. And yet-

“We’re not going anywhere.” Richie said with a grin. He popped the back door of the limo open before the vehicle had slowed to a complete stop, and Eddie rested his head against the seat of the limo to watch him. “We’re already here.”

Eddie tumbled out the limo on Richie’s tail, with Kay and Beverly following and whispering behind them. Eddie squinted out the darkness around him, unaware that he was leaning against Richie’s side. “Central Park after dark? So you’ve taken us here to be murdered?”

Richie let out a little awkward half-laugh, hand unconsciously going to spread around the small of Eddie’s back. “Nothing so sinister as that.” Richie said. “Just that most of the times I’ve spent in New York have been spent in a bar or in a hotel room.”

Eddie’s face burned, but even more than embarrassment over Richie speaking of the night they’d spent together, Eddie felt a weird sense of jealousy of the verbal acknowledgment of other people being with Richie like he had been. Before him, and worse, after him. Eddie knew perfectly well that he couldn’t be mad that Richie had slept with people before they’d met, and he had even less right to be mad about Richie may or may not had slept with after their literal one night stand. He had been the one to say no, to go home and ignore what he’d also felt.

Eddie shivered almost violently as he walked through the grass, knowing it was getting his shoes wet and likely ruining them completely. Oh well, Richie’s career was starting to really take off- Eddie could bill him for new shoes. Something fancy and expensive no doubt. He could afford it.

Arms wrapped around Eddie’s middle and he startled as he looked down at Kay, who grinned back up at him. “Oh, Miss Kay gets cuddly when high? Nice to know.”

She laughed, and squeezed Eddie’s middle until he coughed then released him. She turned away and moved over to Beverly, taking her back the face and kissing her deeply. Eddie frowned awkwardly to himself, and turned back towards the dark park. He felt Richie walk up beside him but he didn’t turn to look at him.

“You know, it’s kind of weird.” Richie said, but he wasn’t looking at Eddie either. “Until I saw you tonight, I don’t think I even remembered you. Which makes me sound like an absolute monster, but-”

“Nah, don’t worry about it.” Eddie said lightly. “I didn’t remember you, either. At least not… specifically. I remembered an intense dislike for comedians, but it wasn’t you that I remembered. Until your show started at least.”

Richie snorted and took a drag of a cigarette. Eddie watched the smoke flow through the dark, and tried to pretend he thought it was gross rather than attractive. “Don’t know why you’re walking around hating comedians. You’re the one who ripped my heart out at an airport, all I did was give you some sweet, sweet loving.”

Eddie made a rough noise at the back of his throat. “You sprialled my entire gay crisis and prompted me to have to change my entire life. I think I deserve a little bit of resentment here, man.”

“Man, I met you at a gay bar. I don’t think I started anything. You were already on your way there yourself.” Richie laughed. “Besides, don’t you feel better now? Rather than marrying some chick because you thought you had to, and playing the role of some straight husband when you were really miserable and craving some good dick. I think you owe me a thank you, actually.”

Eddie shook his head and finally turned to Richie. “You’re right. Thank you, Trashmouth, for being just hot enough that I confessed fully to myself that I wanted to suck dick.”

Richie grinned at him. “Well, you’re here with me now, aren’t you? There must be something about me you like. Besides the fact that I have a dick.”

“You also have a limo, and I didn’t have anything better to do tonight.” Eddie said slowly, letting the words roll off his tongue. Richie continued to look at him, head tilted with a goofy smile on his face. “Did it… I’m not going to apologize for not getting on a plane with a stranger that day. I still think I made the right call.”

“Yeah, you probably did.” Richie said slowly. “I knew that even as you did it, but Eds… God, I still can’t shake the feeling that I knew you. That we’re somehow supposed to meet.”

Eddie didn’t say anything, keeping his eyes on Richie as Richie dropped his cigarette and crushed into the ground. Eddie didn’t even lecture him on the littering, waiting for Richie to finish whatever train of thought he was going down. “And what are the odds that your best friend would just so happen to drag you to see that comedian who asked you to drop your life for him two years ago? On the one night I performed at a small bar for nearly a year. Come on, that can’t be coincidence, Eds.”

“You’re a believer in the universe, I admire that.” Eddie said dryly. “You’ll ask a stranger to run away with you after one night. It’s sweet and it’s insane. Sometimes coincidences do exist.”

Richie looked at him, face suddenly somber. He reached out and took Eddie’s hand in his. Eddie tried to ignore the electric shock it sent running through him. “It’s not just any stranger, you know. There’s something about you, Eddie Kaspbrak. And I think, for you, there’s something about me, too.”

“Maybe.” Eddie agreed. “But I still don’t know you, you don’t know me. Our lives are so different, it’s like we have anything in common or even live on the same side of the country. We ran into each other twice in two years. That’s not exactly some great romance story.”

“It could be if we let it be.” Richie said wistfully. “But don’t fret, Eds. I’m not asking you to run away with me this time. I tried that, but it didn’t work. I don’t offer up potentially life changing decisions to the same dude twice, no matter how drawn I am to him.”

For whatever reason, disappointment settled itself in Eddie’s stomach. He’d already worked himself up, gotten himself ready to tell Richie no, and to find that Richie wasn’t going to ask was a let down. Why he wanted Richie to ask him, he had no idea. Probably the same reason he had no idea why he was more comfortable around Richie Tozier than he was around people he’d known most of his life.

Richie turned around and grinned at Kay and Beverly, who were running through the park fountain. “You’ve got a good thing going here. Much better than last time I met you. Good people in your life. You shouldn’t turn your back on that, and I don’t even want you, too. Like you said- you don’t even know me. And maybe I don’t know you. But they-” he gestured to Eddie’s friends. “They’re good people. Keep them around.”

“I plan to.” Eddie said, throat suddenly dry. “You’re good people, too, Rich.”

Richie turned to look at him, a soft smile on his face. “Thought you said you didn’t know me.”

Eddie shrugged one shoulder. “I’m good at reading people. You put on some big show, but you’re the kind of person who’d stopped to pet a cat no matter how late he was running… and he believes in romance. Soulmates. You’ll find yours, Richie. Someday.”

Richie let out a loud sigh as something in his suit pocket started beeping loudly. He rolled his eyes. “My team has officially realized that I haven’t made it back to my hotel yet. They’ve got me on a tight lease these days.” He held his hand out and Eddie took it without a second thought. “Hey, ladies! If you want a ride back, let’s move it.”

Beverly and Kay stumbled into limo, giggling, and Eddie tried to ignore their kisses as Eddie gave Richie the directions to Kay’s apartment- and Richie gave the directions to his driver. It wasn’t a super far drive, the streets of New York surprisingly calm as they drove through. Eddie kept his eyes trained out the window, and his hand resting on Richie’s bouncing knee.

He watched Beverly and Kay tumble back out of the limo outside Kay’s apartment and moved to follow them, but Richie’s hand wrapped around his wrist. Eddie turned back to him, and his heart fluttered as Richie leaned forward and tucked a piece of paper into the front pocket of Eddie’s jeans.

“If you ever find yourself wondering about the universe,” Richie said, his voice cracking through a dry throat. “Give me a call. I think I’ll be seeing you again, Eddie Kaspbrak.”

Eddie reached out, cupped the side of Richie’s face and kissed him deeply. He let their foreheads press together for a moment before pulling back and climbing out of the limo. He watched the limo drive off until it completely disappeared from view.

#reddie #reddie fic #my writing #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #rip my tag list getting these spams i'm sorry #memories #i should have paced these out but fuck u

18 notes · View notes

pack-the-pack · 5 years

Note

Any thoughts on the aftermath of mating bites? I have a headcanon that taking care of the other's bite until its healed is a huge part of strengthening a pair's mating bond. Do you think Alphas would take pride in changing the Omegas bandages every day? Or feel guilty for for causing them pain? Would Omegas fret over using the best salves and anti-inflammatory medicine?

Honestly I adore this idea. But as in most of the asks I answer my response is not just “yes, pretty much” or “No” lol Yeeea, sorry about that guys… I do think that overall the biting and the care for it is an intimacy majority of couples take pride on, but I also think the process and importance itself might change depending on personal preference of the couple, culture, time period and social and economic status. Yes We are going there again, fasten your seat belts kids, cause it’s time for a History lesson, Pack style!!!

Warning: Mentions of death, abortions, mental illness, sexual stuff and all sorts of ancient hi jinks in an incredibly lengthy post (cut possibly unavailable on mobile cause tumblr is garbage).

Disclaimer: A lot of what I’m basing these fictional concepts in is very eurocentric because that’s what I know best, I am not a historian, I am not an archaeologist or a biologist, I have no degree on no nothing let alone an specialisation on anything relevant enough to be used as educated sources for what I’m about to write. This is just for fun okay, guys? So no need to rub your years of hard work and experience on my face or be like “well actually-!”, cause it will be like just, cool to know? But very unlikely taken into account past that, so just, relax m’kay? Thanks…… Also a lot of my knowledge on these things just comes from the “History of the entire world I guess” video so yeaaa.

So first and foremost, the types of things one would use to treat mating bites. Again, I think there are variants regarding time period and culture, but I think every culture would end up coming up with rather similar things, or overlapping methods of treating such scarring, and I made a little drawing for it :3 Nothing, great, nothing awesome, but because this ask inspired me to draw something.

(Kind of messy, my pottery is kind of crooked and I totally intended for the background to be grey and didn’t just fuck up cleaning up on the wrong layers and had to pretend that was the original plan, you’re imagining, but it’s from the heart c’mon).

Before people had this fancy thing called modern medicine, they had to rely solely on instinct, anecdotes and superstition to make their medication, and of course, bite treatment wasn’t any different.

Whenever an Alpha would bite an Omega or a Beta or vice verse, the glands around the bite area would get irritated, itchy and achy. The most ancient method of soothing these aches was mud, just plain out wet dirt, applied to the area and left there to dry and reapplied only when the entirety of the first batch cracked and fell off naturally during daily activities. It was the hottest trend amongst packs 50.000 b.c. - Though there is also evidence of animal fat being used for the same purpose as well as snow.

With the end of the Paleolithic period and the invention of agriculture things started to get more advanced, now people have bowls, and lots of seeds… and grains! Grains and seeds that they can squeeze really hard and it makes residue come out of them. This is when various types of oils started to pop all around along with various simple mixtures of flour and water. Many clay statues and other rudimentary paintings from these periods show a variety of deities and rituals that existed around the manufacturing of these products and there are indications that the importance of treating bite wounds only then started to become somewhat of a significant part of mated couples’ lives. It was believed that these smaller human settlements created by the first sedentary packs, aka warrens, didn’t make distinction between the Eleusinian¹ and Asterian² dynamics when it came to mating bites and the treatments of such. Omegas would bite and care for the marks they inflicted on Alphas just as much as Alphas and Betas to one another or other Omegas. It was only when these warrens started to grow into full blown villages and subsequently distinctive cities that these differences started to develop.

Once these villages and cities started to gain shape and power, social hierarchy took on a new dimension beyond sole survival. Alphas no longer concerned themselves solely with the survival of their own small pack and hunting food to provide for their mates and children, Betas no longer concerned themselves with just assisting Alphas and Omegas in their daily activities as well as primarily caring for crops and animals, and Omegas no longer only cared to make sure their children and pack were in good health and cared for. Farming and the domestication of animals allowed everyone to have more time for architecture, writing, laws, politics, dancing, music, religion and most important of all: Figuring out how to divide people in a way that totally doesn’t benefit everyone equally, as one do. So now you got social classes and cultural diversity, and these come with different ways of treating mating bites. So around the period of the Bronze age to when the Greeks were like really important (specially cause a lot of the terminology and ideas about the dynamics carried nowadays comes from them and the Romans in western society) methods and materials started to shift a bit, but not drastically. Herbs like mint and parsley, flowers like lavender and aconite, roots like ginger and marsh mallow, and oils like that from olives, frankincense or sesame seeds as well as animal derived products such as wax from bees or blood and fat from animals and sometimes even metals like iron started to pop up all around from east to west as cures for all sorts of ailments and diseases. Brought through the sea or through land by merchants (rhizotomiki) who crossed nations and continents, carrying with them they brought all sorts of new superstitions and beliefs about mating bites. Flowers said to be born from rivers or lakes of eternal youth, roots and spices made of fire itself, honey directly from the mouth of deities or roots that’d kill any spiritual disease started gaining popularity quickly with pretty much everyone seen as a lot of these were said to provide for good fortune and happy and prosperous marriages if incorporated on biting rituals. Oracles and religious leaders would advise their followers and rulers to consume certain things before mating and to care for their bites and their partners with extra amounts of care because all of a sudden they started to become super important. Deaths, famine, bad luck, abortions and mental illnesses started to be blamed on the lack of care or the improper care of mating bites, said to either cause the body to perish in account of some malignant aspect of a specific plant or to have angered the gods in some manner.

The high mortality that could come with infected mating bites became more and more apparent the more society advanced, but they didn’t know it was because of the infection itself yet, so surviving these was not only a sign of strength or luck, but a sign of status, power, money and higher spirituality. Emperors, Empresses, feudal lords in the orient, etc. All took pride in having enough money to buy rare ingredients from merchants from far away lands as well as hundreds of slaves and servants to care for their gardens, plantations and animals which provided them with an immense diversity of always available plants, herbs and roots that gained favour in aiding with biting marks. To be the chosen mate of one of these people would grant one with a similar status and privileges, such as not dying and having better flavoured bread or something.

This also meant that they didn’t really want other people but them using these miracle medicines, because they thought that for the common people to use “divinely provided” forms of care would inevitably result in corruption of said methods and subsequently the fall of society. So now you had:

The rulers of nations and cities/nobles: Using and manufacturing refined powders from roots, grains and metals from far away nations in order to bind and cure mating bites. Rare Oils from plant eradicated anywhere but the palaces and gardens belonging to the highest circles, bandages made from the finest silks and sown and painted with all sorts of religious meanings. Concoctions that took hours, months or even years to be finished for a single claiming treatment, with recipes and processes kept secret and many times lost forever with trusted doctors/shamans that’d tend to royalty only.

Generals, Priestesses, Shamans, Politicians: Using plants and roots that were common, but difficult to come by, expensive, difficult to use or “required” a specific ritual that’d grant them some sort of untapped potential from these plants otherwise, providing them “enlightenment”, “strength”, “wisdom” and “spiritual clearance” in order to win all things from wars, to new knowledge and insight on the gods’ wants and needs to political feuds. Alcohol and other fermented blends such and wine and grape must with marsh mallow, made to clean and close wounds as well as soothing burns were prioritized here. The immediate pain was considered cleansing and efficiency. Mandrakes were rather popular as well, but for treating “deep spiritual diseases”, such as when ones mate falls ills some hours or a day after the bite is consummated, or to ensure healthy and strong offspring coming from the union since it was considered to aid on sexual prowess. However given its “immense” power and magical properties it was rarely ever given or prescribed to the masses without the supervision or blessing of a highly spiritual attuned authority.

Lords and wealthy merchants: Using, manufacturing and selling all sorts of blends, mostly creams and perfumes said to help with pain and itching. These would change depending on the city and the deities they worshiped and superstitions they carried as well as the plants naturally available in the lands (the ones that haven’t been eradicated or hogged by other classes of people). These were the ones usually gifted by acquaintances, and friends of the newly mated couple as offerings of good fortune, prosperity and fertility. These varied hugely in ingredients and price as well. Though there were other ingredients and recipes guarded with an amount of secrecy by these as well, gifted and used just by the family to other members of the same, these tended to be tended to and made with a higher degree of care, utilizing plants one would have at their disposal in their own home.

Common soldiers, artisans and lesser merchants, sailors and farmers: The people that didn’t really have much money, time or social status to dedicate to bite wounds would resort to simpler and cheaper methods of soothing their pains. Simply dousing the wounds with olive or fish oil was a common practice, as well as using salt water to wash the area. Clay of various kinds as well as coal and ground up seashells were popular on various cities as ingredients for lotions and creams and many times were offered to the gods as well as a form of prayer for good health and happy mateship. Lamb and goat fat was also very popular with the poor for its healing and relaxing properties, people would collect an array of herbs and flowers that’d fancy their partner or the both of them to incorporate into it, in order to symbolise their union as one as well as to mask the strong foul smell from the fat.

Slaves: Slaves were usually prohibited to mate by their masters, but the ones that happened to mate someone or being mated would be punished with not being able to treat their wounds. It was seen as a disgrace and distasteful to not treat ones bite wounds, and people thought only fitting that slaves who step out of line would have their favour taken from them entirely on the eyes of their gods or polite society. As a result slaves had to resort to only using water and cool mud, many succumbing to the infections and fevers that were attributed by most as a corruption of the spirit and not worthy of pity.

So as you can see, there was a divide in how they treated their wounds based on many things, and while some of these methods and rituals sometimes overlapped between classes the distinction was stark enough that you could clearly tell what type belonged to whom. It was around that time as well that the Eleusinian and Asterian dynamics started to get divided more and more as time passed. Omegas were treated as borderline property and in many places like Athens were not granted the right to mark their mate back, with exceptions occurring just in certain occasions (such as the soon departure to a losing war on the mate’s part, or to save the mate’s life though a spiritual treatment), Beta females and poor Omega females being forbidden to use certain plants and to take part in certain rituals by law claimed to be belonging solely to Omega females of higher social status, Omega males being prohibited of using any sort of soothing agents if not prohibited of being bitten altogether. Alphas having or not marks as a form of weakness or a show of strength varied ridiculously from city to city and from nation to nation (So much so that to this day there is not full agreement on that in society). And a whole lot of other rules and random crap just around mating bites alone.

With the invention of modern medicine, these things started to change obviously, people had a better grasp of what helped and what just made things worse, creams, pills, oils,,and ointments started being patented and people would gradually only look to more naturalistic methods of treating claim bites as an element of a different all-natural life style or a belief (misguided or not) that natural = better. With all that said one thing has remained true: Yes, caring for ones wounds is something that is and was believed to strengthen and solidify ones bond with their mate. People always tended to care a great deal for it, doing everything in their power to provide for their mates in the best way they knew how, if it were through giving them private care by more servants then they can count, with the best ingredients in the world at the moment, or simply by choosing smells and things that they’d like in order to show how much they care, they took and still take great pride in caring for that very fragile wound in their necks. As whether or not this is more an Alpha thing or a Omega thing, or if Alphas hate or take pride in causing pain to their partners, that varies in belief, culture and time period. I particularly think that overall it’d be a mixture of both. They don’t want to cause excessive pain to their partner but they also want their bonds to be solidified forever. The Eleusinian dynamics were always the ones more intimately connected with the production and rituals surrounding bite soothers so to me it makes sense they prioritize its quality more than Asterian dynamics, but that also is a highly individual thing.

Overall I hope this wasn’t a complete departure from what you asked >.> But I really wanted to explore this a bit more and your ask gave me the opportunity to. Remembering this is all just my interpretation and applies to my verse (PTPverse) which is completely open for creative use in fanfictions, RP sessions and others, so if you don’t agree with what I said here that’s 100% fine, to each their own, I just hope this somehow was able to help anyone ;) any lingering questions try checking out my other history posts such as the Ancient Greece Headcanons one or make another ask on my inbox for clarity. Peace.

¹ - Eleusinian dynamics: Referring to Omegas (of either gender) and Beta females.

² - Asterian dynamics: Referring to Alphas (of either gender) and Beta males.

114 notes · View notes

londone-fog · 4 years

Text

This Was A Home Once

AO3 Link

“This is fine,” he whispered to himself once he was safely in the driver’s seat of his car. “It’s fine that Eddie probably hates me. It’s fine.”

It was not fine.

(In which Richie comes back to Derry for the first time in four years, and Eddie doesn't know how to leave.)

Chapter 1

Richie graduated from UCLA on a sunny day in May. He smiled, shook hands, and gripped the fancy slip of paper that said he was qualified to do things related to communications and broadcast as though it would run away from him if he loosened his grip. Peers clapped his shoulders, and his mother was a teary eyed mess while asking for pictures of him and his father together. The whole thing was rather bittersweet in his opinion.

Later that night, after Richie’s parents had gotten back on their plane to Maine, Richie was going to go back to his tiny, over-priced apartment, and put everything he hadn’t already put in a storage unit into his car.

Richie’s job at his college’s radio station had been over the second he walked across that stage, and his lease would be up a week after that. The way the end of his last semester had gone, he hadn’t been able to get a job lined up in time for him to find a new place. So, when his mother had called a few weeks before graduation offering to let Richie come back to Derry to stay with them until he heard back from any jobs, he’d had no choice but to say yes. He packed up all his things and drove across the country to a tiny, middle of nowhere town that he hadn’t been back to in nearly four years.

It had been four long, strange years since he’d been back to Derry, Maine. Back to the place where he used to ride his bike everywhere, where he would splash around in the quarry, where he’d met his oldest friends. It was also the place where he first learned what it was like to get the shit beaten out of him for just being who he was.

No, Richie had not been back to Derry in a very long time, and that was by design. He’d worked very hard to make sure that he stayed as far away from that town as he possibly could, and now here he was, returning back to her gaping, suffocating maw. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d spoken to any of his old friends. He was sure they were off doing important, successful things with their lives, far away from Derry. Far away from him. He couldn’t blame them. The Richie of now was very different from the Richie who ran away from Derry, and that Richie was very different from the Richie who they had befriended so long ago.

And yet, while Richie might have changed drastically over the years, Derry had not. It was almost as if the entire town was encased in a bubble, where nothing new came in, and nothing old ever left. When Richie finally drove past the “Welcome To Derry” sign, it was just as faded and peeling as he remembered. The streets still had the same uneven asphalt that threatened to shake apart entire cars. He recalled old, dusty memories he hadn’t thought about in years driving down the streets. There was the alley where they'd patched up Ben after finding him bleeding after a run in with Bowers. There was the pharmacy, and the movie theatre, and the Paul Bunyan statue that used to scare the shit out of Richie when he was younger for reasons he no longer remembered.

When he pulled up to his childhood home, he was almost taken aback by how little it had changed there as well. He hugged his mother when she ran out to greet him, and allowed his father to clap him on the shoulder. Together they moved his last couple of boxes into his childhood bedroom.

This was really the only thing in the house that was significantly different. He’d either packed or gotten rid of most of his belongings when he went to college, so the walls and shelves were mostly bare. The bed had fresh, plain sheets and coverings. The room itself felt stale and unused.

“We figured it was a good idea to make this a guest room of sorts after you left,” his mother explained. “All of your things are in the closet though, in case you wanted to sort through them.”

“Thanks, Mom,” he replied, gently.

She gave him an understanding sort of smile and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“I’ll leave you to it. Let me know if you need anything.”

With that, Richie was left alone.

He opened the closet door. Sure enough, most of his old comics and action figures were on the top shelf, a few old random shirts hanging from the rod. Something caught his eye, however; an old shoebox pushed into the top corner of the shelf, almost completely hidden by shadow. He reached up and pulled it down, blowing dust off the top. When he pulled off the lid, he couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his lips. Inside were a random assortment of cassette tapes, thrown haphazardly into the box by a much younger Richie. He pulled out the top most one, instantly recognizing the handwriting on it as Beverly Marsh’s. Bev had loved to make tapes in high school for him to play in his shitty car while they drove around town. He rubbed a thumb over the neat, loopy letters. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d spoken to Bev. He suddenly missed her like a lung.

Richie shook his head, and put the tape back in the box, placing the whole thing on the bed. He looked around at all the boxes around his room.

He spun around until he found where he’d set his backpack down, digging in one of the side pockets until he found his rarely used Swiss Army knife. He figured he might as well start unpacking. He searched the stack of boxes to find the one labeled “clothes.”

He found it sitting at the bottom of the pile. Of course.

He set the pocket knife down on the window sill, but something made him do a double take. On the edge, barely noticeable in the shadow, was a place on the edge of the window where the white paint had been rubbed clean off, revealing the wood underneath.

Richie recognized this as damage from him climbing out of his window almost every night when he was younger. Climbing out his window and getting on his bike to climb into Eddie’s room without his mom noticing, to be more specific.

He may have fallen out of touch with his childhood friends over the years, but he pointedly hadn’t spoken to Eddie since the night he left for college. He gently touched the exposed wood, remembering how his heart had been full of a peculiar, sinking feeling as he’d climbed out of this window for the last time, knowing that he was going to tell his best friend goodbye forever because he was never coming back to Derry if he could help it. Yeah, and look how long that fucking lasted, he thought, bitterly. He turned around and set to pulling his box of clothes free, but his thoughts still swirled dangerously around his head.

What was Eddie even up to these days?

He grabbed the pocket knife and kneeled down, pulling a blade out and digging it into the tape holding the box shut.

Was Eddie still upset at Richie? Did he even still think of him at all?

The knife caught on a snag in the tape. Richie tugged hard.

Does Eddie know that Richie lo-

The knife suddenly pulls free, gliding through the tape and sliding painfully across the tops of his fingers. Richie jumps back with a hiss, dropping the knife as blood immediately springs forth from the wound, a few drops of red dripping onto the carpet. He looked around the room, and seeing no immediate solutions, jammed his injured fingers into his mouth and rushed down the stairs to find his mother.

“Richie, please get your hand out of your mouth,” she said as he entered the room. He pulled his fingers out with a pop.

“Do we have any band aids?” he asks, brandishing his wound. His mother looked at his hand, shook her head, and handed him a tissue from the table next to the couch.

“We need to go get more. What did you do?”

Richie awkwardly scratches the hair at the base of his neck.

“I got distracted cutting open boxes.”

His mother sighed in a tired sort of way.

“I won’t even ask. You’ll have to go to the pharmacy or something. Do you remember the way?”

“Yeah, of course. I’ll be right back,” he said, wrapping the tissue around his fingers and grabbing his keys from the hook by the door.

The drive to the pharmacy was a short one.

The bell above the door chimed the same tone that it always had. Richie made a beeline for the aisle with the sign ‘bandages’ advertised above it, and quickly scanned the shelves for the bandaids. He found them and turned, speed walking to the checkout counter. He set the box down with a little too much force, which startled the clerk behind the counter.

“Find everything okay?” the clerk asked, his voice slightly shaky and… familiar?

Richie looked up. He made eye contact with a pair of warm brown eyes surrounded by dark circles and the remnants of what might have once been freckles long ago. Eyes that he recognized as belonging to-

“Eddie?”

Eddie looked taken aback, like he’d seen a ghost.

“Richie? What the hell are you doing here?”

The situation immediately felt strange to Richie. What the hell was Eddie doing in Derry?

“Uh, buying bandaids? I cut my hand, I guess.” He held up his injured hand to punctuate his point. Eddie’s eyes drifted to the bloody tissue, then snapped back to Richie with a look of confusion. He slowly reached over to scan the bandaids, gaze never leaving Richie’s face. He looked like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

“I mean, what the fuck are you doing here? In Derry?” The last word came out as a sort of half hiss, half whisper.

“I could ask you the same question.”

Eddie blinked, like he didn’t hear him. Richie sighed.

“I’m in town until I hear back from a job in Cali,” he reluctantly answered. He wrestled a few loose bills out of his back pocket and slid them over in a wad. Eddie took them numbly and looked down to count them. Richie took the time to really examine this older Eddie.

First of all, he looked so tired. The circles under his eyes were a dark, bruise like purple. His shoulders were slumped forward, like he was struggling to hold himself up. His skin was paler than Richie remembered, like Eddie spent all of his time inside, away from any kind of sunlight. He looked like a deflated version of the loud, neurotic boy that Richie used to know.

But, despite his pallad exterior, Richie saw the sharp glint in his eye that he’d recognize anywhere. The glint that showed how quick witted he was, how he was always thinking. His mouth quirked in the way that showed he was uncomfortable.

Was Richie making him uncomfortable?

“So, uh, how’s Ms. K? I’m sure she’ll be glad to know that I’m back in town.”

Eddie’s face turned a peculiar shade of red.

“She died about a month ago, actually, but thank you for asking.” His tone was calm and even, but Richie could tell he was pissed.

Way to go Trashmouth, he thought. You’ve barely been talking and you’ve already ruined everything.

“Oh… I had no idea.”

“Yeah, how would you?” Eddie’s tone was very flat.

Richie’s mouth felt suddenly dry. His bandaids were thrust back across the counter. He grabbed them, almost having completely forgotten about why he’d come in in the first place. He turned to leave, but thought better of it.

“I’m sorry for your loss. It’s good to see you, Eddie.”

Eddie looked up.

“Yeah. I’ll see you around Richie.”

He did not sound like he had any intention of seeing Richie around. Richie just nodded and walked out the door and back to his car.

“This is fine,” he whispered to himself once he was safely in the driver’s seat of his car. “It’s fine that Eddie probably hates me. It’s fine.”

It was not fine.

#reddie #it 2017 #it 2019 #it stephen king #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #au #my writing

7 notes · View notes