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#yes it is eddie water u talking about
incorrectbuddie · 3 days ago
Eddie: Look, Buck, I appreciate you're trying to deal with this in a healthy way, but creating a montage of all the times you've been hurt set to "It's a Hard Knock Life" may not be the best way to do that.
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knullanon · 6 months ago
how the symbiotes stole you from one another #3
this took 5 hours in total yay
words: 4627
warnings: manipulation, kidnapping, dads being assholes, lmk if I missed any!
Routines in the area where Knull had dropped you off were almost nonexistent. The only reason why you woke up at all was because of the fact that it was already something you did before you got here.
Here, as in this place where Knull seemingly… owned? It was weird. He didn’t just own the land, either, he owned the symbiotes, and by that, Knull, whenever he wanted to talk to you, would just go inside one of their minds, take over, and talk to you. He had done this one multiple occasions, with him always being an asshole about everything. From trying to stop you from going outside, to bitching about your old life, and how you must be enjoying this one. It was really annoying to have to deal with him every damn day, and it was starting to become borderline creepy.
He wouldn’t care about your privacy, only how you were holding up. Literally nothing could stop him from entering your room. He removed the lock when you first got there, and then just left you. Nothing to do besides clean, fuck around, and be bored to death. The only thing you could really do otherwise bsides talk to that asshole, is just try and find something to look at.
So far, you’ve been able to tell that the previous owners of the land were evicted: probably by force by the numerous blood stains all over the place, hiding under whatever Knull didn’t want to clean. Another thing you noticed was that the area you were in used to be covered with trees, but they seemed to be all cut down recently. They smelt fresh and didn’t have any dirt or grime on the stumps. You had to assume it was a safety precaution. For him, at least.
It didn’t take long for you to start snooping around and finding different things, like a hidden diary, all written in russian, an old art kit, and a calendar dated to that year. These items, and their good conditions they were found in, only solidifies your theory that Knull just found a random property and killed the people living there. It also solidified the fact that Knull really didn’t know you existed until that night. Or, morning. Whatever time you were at the gas station. You were able to tell how long you had been taken. 2 weeks just tonight.
It was annoying the hell out of you how long staying with these assholes would seem. Two months with Eddie and venom, and then 3 months with carnage and cletus.
And now 2 weeks with this asshole, probably more. You really wanted out of this damn place. Actually, you wanted out of this weird game they had. Whoever got you first got to keep you until someone else came along. And tried to do the same thing.
As you grabbed some random clothes, and walked into the bathroom, you tried to remember before everything had happened. Before you decided to walk back home alone, like an idiot. That's what you were, wasn’t it? A fucking idiot for thinking it was a good idea. You really thought that nothing would happen, would it? And now this.
Shoving open the bathroom door, you almost didn’t see the 7 foot tall symbiote sitting in the chair across from the bed. This one was known for having a more emo look to them. With being dark blue and with little streaks of even darker red, they were always quiet and silent when you saw them. They were usually the ones to bring you food, guard the house you were in. They were also the one that Knull preferred to get into when he decided to speak to you.
The symbiote themselves were rumble, and he was… actually quite pleasant. It seemed Knull had let this batch keep their personalities, maybe at the price of kneeling before him. You didn’t know.
What you did know was that Knull was now controlling Rumble through whatever bullshit he did to be this powerful. Rumble, or, Knull technically, was reading an old newspaper dated a few months ago. It was from somewhere in Idaho, where you would assume you were located. Yes, Eddie lived in San Francisco, but when carnage took you wherever the hell he took you, and then Knull, well, it was confusing to say the least.
Anyways, the one good thing about Knull was that he really didn’t care what you thought of the place, as he said it, “a temporary arrangement on both our parties''. Pretentious bitch.
Knull put down the newspaper, and gave a smile, before gesturing with his arm to the bed you had just made. “Ah, _____, sit. Let's talk shall we?”
You didn’t want to talk to him, or even look at him, but you followed his command anyway. You tossed your clothes into an old bucket that you had placed in the corner of the room and walked towards the bed, before sitting on it. Knull smiled again with that weird mouth. Rumble never smiled, so of course it would look weird when he did. Of course, not of his own will, but still.
“So, how have you been liking your new enclosure?” Did- Did he just-
You brushed it off, not wanting to anger him. “It’s… fine. Every home comes with its ups and downs.” you hoped he would get the message about calling a home an enclosure. It makes you feel like a pet rather than a person. If Knull noticed your wording, then he ignored it. Instead, he picked up the newspaper again, saying, “Good, good. I’m glad you could understand the circumstances of your predicament.”
You tried hard not to roll your eyes, remembering what Carnage or Venom would say- even now, if you had no idea where they were, their words and opinions still sat with you months later. Instead, you nodded your head to his words, and sat in silence waiting for him to say anything else. Knull did not say anything for a few minutes. Long, agonizing minutes. It reminded you of being with Eddie and Venom, those two assholes. When they were working, they required the utmost silence otherwise they couldn’t focus. They never got mad at you, but they would always try to put you up to something, like reading. Which is why you would read all their books on crime rates, detectives, natural disasters, anything to pass the time while they were working.
It got you entertained for the most part. Sitting in a room with nothing to do, for 2 months was more difficult than you ever thought it would be.
“Are you thinking of your previous hosts and their accommodations?”
Knull pulled you from your thoughts, and even though he was reading the newspaper, you were able to tell he wanted an answer. You shifted from your spot at the edge of the bed, before answering with, “U-Uh, yeah, I am.”
He continued to read for a moment, before he pulled the newspaper down a little to view you. “Are you not tired of them?”
“What do you mean?”
This time, he put the newspaper in his lap. “Venom and Eddie. Carnage and Cletus. How have they treated you in the few months you’ve known them?”
You had to sit there and think for a moment, wondering where this conversation was going. What was he trying to do this time?
“Well, venom and Eddie were… constricting. I never had anything to do. Besides reading the books on the shelf, but even then I had to do that discreetly. They didn’t like me doing those things. Or, rather, reading those things. They said it was too… graphic.”
“Ah, I see.” he acknowledged, picking up the newspaper again. “And Carnage and Cletus? How was their company?”
You really wanted to hide in a hole now. “They were… fine.”
“Were they, though?”
You wondered if it would just be worth it to tell everything: how you felt about Eddie, how you felt about Cletus, and how you felt about this asshole doing the same thing the rest of them had done.
“...No, they weren’t.”
He gave a small smile, before he asked, “Oh? Please do tell me more.”
You knew what he was doing, what he was playing at, and yet, you fell right for it. “They would tell me… they would say that no one was going to come for me. No one cared. Not my family, not Eddie, no one. Only them.”
He nodded along, and when he realized you were done venting, he said, “well, aren’t you glad that you’re with me now?”
Turning to face him, you gave him a glare. “Excuse me?”
“Think about it. With one of them, they gave you limited resources to entertain yourself, and the other made you feel like nothing. With me, I give you free reign to do whatever you please. You may ask for whatever you wish, visit whoever you choose, as long as you plead your loyalty to me.”
You stared at him, before you turned your back towards him, mumbling, “Liar.”
He chuckled, and you heard the newspaper crinkle. “I’m not making any jokes. Pledge our loyalty, and you will receive anything you would ever want.”
“Would that include being let go to see my family again?”
“Yes, actually. You would just have to come back when you were done with your visits.”
That caught your attention. He would let you go back? Really? He did say you would go back to him when you were done with your “visits”... but still, better than what the other two were offering.
You thought for a moment before the doubts started to kick in. How do we know he won’t betray you when you do pledge your loyalty to him? How do we know he won’t just keep you here forever? What ounce of trust should we put in him when everyone has kicked us when we were already down?
Almost as if he heard your thoughts, Knull said, “I will give you time for your answer. After all, I have years and years to spare.”
With that he folded the newspaper, setting it down gently, before you saw something spark in his eyes and Rumble returned to his own mind. He sat there unmoving for a few moments, before he sat up and looked at you. “I assume he just wanted to talk?”
You sighed, feeling tired only at 7 in the morning already. “Yes, Rumble, that’s all he came here for.”
He gave a hum of acknowledgment before he got up and walked to the exit to the room. Before he left, however, he said, “Do not be surprised if the water runs out: this was called a temporary enclosure for a reason.”
Before you could say anything, he left you to watch the door again, just before you could ask him to stop calling the home an enclosure, he shut the door softly. You were about to say something, but decided it was not worth it, so instead, you opted to just continue on with what you had to do throughout the day.
As Rumble looked on as you would clean and dry out clothes on line and leave them for the hot summer day to dry, hopefully by the end of the day, you had mumbled out when first getting out the big hamper. Next to it, you had a couple pieces of clothing sitting in another basket covered by water and soap. Currently, you were wringing out all of the water from a white top, trying to not stretch it out.
Rumble grumble out something, before he heard him in his head:
“Rumble, I would assume you would have the decency to not talk badly about my daughter behind her back.”
Rumble froze up before he quickly set his posture more straightened as he watched you put the shirt on the line, before going to grab another piece of clothing. “No, Lord Knull, I was just noting the… strange enclosure you had chosen for her.”
He heard Knull chuckle, before responding with, “Oh, Rumble, you should know my plan by now.”
Rumble sent a wave of confusion to Knull, indicating that no, he had no idea what his plan was.
Knull simply sighed, before he continued. “I have had plans to bring her to Klyntar, our homeworld, and yet, I have a feeling she will not be able to live there. For a while, I thought I would only be able to visit her through the symbiotes already on earth, or just get there myself, with obvious consequences. However, I’ve found a third option. There is a way to bring her here without having to worry for her safety.”
Suddenly, Rumble received a vision, or more specifically, a live feed of what Knull was looking at. It looked like a symbiote, and yet, it was… odd. It did not have a mind of its own, it's like it was waiting to be filled by something. And this one did not need a host, either. From Knull’s own memories, it seemed he created this one to rely solely on its own, however, for the need to do normal things, it needed someone to fill its mind. Rumble suddenly realized where this was going.
“Lord Knull, you aren’t saying-”
“Yes, I’m saying exactly what you are thinking of.”
Rumble saw Knull walk up to the symbiote, and stroke it with his claw. It did not respond. “This symbiote that I have created will need a mind, someone who has already been born, only their mind. I am planning on giving it to ______ and then letting her rest there, before taking away her body and giving her mind to.... Well, I have not named this one. Maybe I will name it… _______. After her.”
You laid the last shirt in the bucket, and when you tried to grab another and felt that there were no more, you sighed and grabbed the dirty water, and poured it out on the grass, not caring if the soap would kill the already dead plants. Then you put the hamper and the bucket on top of each other and carried it back into the house. When you reached the sink, you put the buckets in the sink and turned the tap: only for nothing to come out.
“Do not be surprised if the water runs out: this was called a temporary enclosure for a reason.”
Fucking hell. You got the hamper out and when you saw that it was relatively clean, you let it go, but the dirty water one…
Yeah, you had to clean this before the next laundry day.
It did not help that there were dishes that needed to be washed. You sighed and left the bucket on the counter, and you were about to walk back up to your room, when you had an idea. You walked outside and saw Rumble standing near a cut down tree, waiting for something. Walking up to him, you said, “Hey, Rumble, is there another water source around here?”
He gave you a look, before he said, “Yes, there is one, why must you use it? We will be moving next week to a new location.”
“Well, if it's gonna take a week, I hope you have some form of water to bring up here for the dishes, or showers, or clothes, or-”
“Alright, alright I get it.” he stalked over to you and looked towards another symbiote, probably trying to talk to them before the other symbiote simply nodded and walked to another part of the property.
“I will take you to a river, but after that, the others will gather the water for you, am I clear?”
You nodded. “Good, lets go.”
Anti-venom stood at the clearing, looking at the decomposing bodies, just two women and two men. He could tell they had been there for more than a week, but not enough for them to completely decompose.
Anti-venom looked around before he tried to smell where they were from. Unfortunately, whoever dumped their bodies was smart in how they covered up the scent. There was almost nothing out here, and with the fact that someone covered up their scent made it more unnerving.
He didn’t try to think of how they died, only giving them his wishes before he started to walk away. Just a couple meters away was a little river that he knew expanded as you went up the stream. He walked over and saw nothing of old blood on the rocks, so they must’ve died somewhere else-
What was that?
He whirled his head towards the start of the river, upwards maybe by a few miles. Even out here, the stench of Knull and his underdogs were there. He growled, remembering how Knull used them for his own gain. He quickly theorized that for some reason, Knull was here and he had killed these people- but why? What would make him do this?
Anti-venom decided to find out on his own, as he started to sprint his way up the river.
“Why did Lord Knull choose you, anyway?”
“Choose me as what?”
You were currently at the river, cleaning out the dishes in the bucket, and then rinsing them off. Rumble was nearby, sitting in his own little area, and he was also bored. He wanted to know things that Knull would not tell him: would not tell anyone, to be more precise.
You looked back at him, before you turned back to the dishes. “I don’t question it anymore. I never had a choice, I was just… chosen. It’s something I’ve had to get used to for the past months, and even now I don’t have anything to do, anything to say.”
Rumble quirked an eye. “But Lord Knull gave you a choice, did he not?”
“Oh, yeah, please tell me, what did he give me a choice on?”
“On being free to do as you please.”
You stopped washing the little plate you had, and you turned back to face him. “What?”
“He gave you a choice. You could swear loyalty to him, or-”
“Ok, enough with the loyalty bullshit, I’m tired of hearing it.” You had gone back to the dishes, scrubbing furiously at the plate. “I get it, it's a better option than Carnage or Venom, but could I at least have the option of never seeing you fucks ever again?”
Rumble did not say anything more, letting you get out your anger by scrubbing the dishes that were left, and tossing them into the bucket.
When you were finally done, you tried to pick up the bucket, but all of that scrubbing and cleaning made your arms sore. Rumble decided to restore his reputation with you by getting the bucket for you. You didn’t complain, as your arms were extremely sore from your anger washing.
The walk back to the property was peaceful. You weren’t angry at Rumble: to be honest, he was a sweetheart. He would help you out with so many things it was almost unbelievable. He was much more pleasant to be around than Knull, that was for sure.
Even if he had to call Knull “Lord Knull” each time you met, it was fine. The little trail that you two took was getting more smoother as you got closer and closer to the property. When you reached the clearing, you saw the normal sight:
5 symbiotes around the area stalking, waiting. They were most likely on guard, and even then, they had their eyes on you, making sure there was no funny business between you and Rumble.
Walking up to the one story house, you felt… wrong. Of course, this had always felt wrong, but this time it was like someone was watching you from afar. Before you got onto the porch, you turned to look at all the symbiotes watching you. Nothing unusual, the normal amount that would stand guard in this area. Maybe one of them is looking too long, you thought, as Rumble opened the door for you and you both went inside.
Unfortunately, no one noticed the speck of white in the bushes, hiding. Waiting.
It was almost time for you to start getting ready for bed. You already had dinner, and now all you needed was just a nice warm bed. You sighed as you made sure everything was in its place, before you walked back in the hallway and into your room. You got out your favorite pair of pajamas, and started to change. You already had a shower last night, it wouldn’t matter if you had one today.
As you changed, your mind went back to the conversation with Knull earlier that day. Would he really let you do whatever you wanted if you just… spared your loyalty, as he called it? Could you see your family and friends again? Could you tell them you were ok and not harmed?
But, he did say that you couldn’t stay there… you would have to go back with him… where did he live, anyway? He was an alien god, so… space? But… where?
Maybe he lived on some random planet and acquired a bunch of power, you had no idea-
That didn’t sound good. You rushed out of your room, pajamas halfway on, and peeked outside of the kitchen window, where you saw everything.
In the middle of the clearing, stood tall and bloody, was another symbiote. He was white with some black accents here and there, and most importantly, he was holding fire.
You already knew that symbiotes didn’t like heat, or fire. Especially not fire.
You remember one time when you tried to escape Eddie with fire. It did not work out well. You were locked in a closet, and fortunately for you, that was where you stored your books.
Anyways, you had no time to think of those times, when you were running from whatever the fuck is going on outside the house. You ran back to your room to put on a shirt, and when you were finished putting on your socks, running was heard from the hallway.
Rumble came through the door and dragged you by your forearm down towards a specific spot in the floor. He then lifted a larger floorboard that revealed a crawl space. He shoved you in, gently as possible, before he said, “Stay. Here. I’ll come for you when I beat him.”
“Who?” You were about to ask, but he slammed the door shut, leaving you to fear for the next few minutes.
You sat there for a few more minutes, before you heard crackling. Crackling of fire. You were desperately trying to open the door, but it seemed to be glued shut: there was nothing that could open it.
At this point, you were starting to cry. The symbiotes couldn’t stand fire, how would they stand this? You were desperate to leave, to escape: you never wanted to be here, with these people who thought they could help you. You wanted to go home, to see your family, friends, the people who loved and cherished you, and actually respected your boundaries.
The door was broken inwards and you felt every muscle in your body stop. You crouched a little from the trap door, hoping they didn’t hear you. From they're desperate steps and quick feet, it was obviously not Rumble or any other symbiote you knew.
You were pulled from your thoughts as the steps went into the hallway. As they walked by, slower, you held your breath. If they found you… well, you knew what happened when new symbiotes would find you.
You let out a silent sigh when they passed the door… only for them to come rushing back. Without even knowing it, they ripped open the trap door, revealing you, tired, scared, and cold.
The symbiote you saw was the exact one that was outside, who was attacking all the other symbiotes.
He looked shocked, as if he didn’t know you were there. “Child…” he asked, as he reached down to try and grab you, “what are you doing in a place like this?”
He picked you up with the utmost gentleness and care, like you would shatter if he just yanked you out. He cradled you within his arms, like you were a baby. He was a giant compared to you, being almost 7 or 8 feet tall.
“Where are your parents?” he asked, taking you with him, walking out of the house. You tried to crawl out of his palm, but he stopped you each time. “I-I don't know.”
He tried to give you a sympathetic look. “Oh, my sweet dear, don’t be afraid. I will k-”
He suddenly jumped into the fire, and you screamed expecting to be burnt along with all the weeds.
However, you didn’t feel anything. Turns out this was because the symbiote had taken you up into the air, so while he was holding you by your waist, he was also holding you out of the reach of the fire. He held his hand up high, not only to make sure that you wouldn’t be hurt, but as you saw Rumble on the ground, close to the fire, you realized it was to get you out of his grip.
“Rumble. You used to be such an open minded symbiote. Now look at you. You are just leeching off of Lord Knull, the one who enslaves you and the rest of our kind!”
The white symbiotes seemingly noticed you again, and said, “and you have the audacity to bring an innocent child into this mess! How dare you!”
With that, he started to walk into the fire, which surprisingly was not burning him. He still held you up high so you wouldn’t be burnt by the flames, which was nice. You looked back at Rumble, who was trying to get up, but the injuries on his legs seemed severe. The fire was closing in on him as well.
You felt bad for him. You reached out, but before you could do anything, Anti venom started to sprint away from the house. The last thing you saw of Rumble was him collapsing onto the ground, broken and beaten.
When you were out of the fire, the symbiote lowered you to his eye level. “My name is Anti-Venom, tiny child. What is yours?”
Rumble sat on the remains of the house: nothing was left of it when Lord Knull appeared. It was a miracle he had even gotten the distress alert, a bigger one he had arrived in time to save rumble himself. Every other symbiote was gone, either from the fire or the white symbiote. Anti-Venom was his name.
“So, you failed at getting back _____ for me?”
“... Lord Knull, I am deeply sorry, but-”
“I don’t want to hear excuses, Rumble, I want to see my daughter! I want to seeher before the other two get her, or worse she falls for that idiotic Anti-Venom, do you hear me?!”
Rumble sat there waiting for Lord Knull to be done with his rant, before he said, “Yes, Lord Knull. I understand.”
Lord Knull stood up and started to walk away. “Good. I will try to locate her myself. In the meantime, find out everything you can about this Anti-Venom. I want his secrets, every dirty little thing about him, do you understand?”
“Yes, Lord Knull, it will be done.”
And with that, Lord Knull was gone, leaving Rumble to dwell in his own failures.
almost forgot, @anxiousnerdwritings this was for u
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novelconcepts · 8 months ago
Jamie & Dani short prompt- Online Dating au meeting online and being from bad past relationship. Thank u
This is probably a bad idea. It is, isn’t it? Almost certainly.
Why is she here?
Dani Clayton has been playing this particular set of thoughts--bad idea, terrible idea, why would you do this?--on repeat for three days. Ever since setting up that dating profile. Ever since realizing there isn’t much use in setting up a dating profile if you’re not going to use it. 
Oh, it’s all fun and games, building the thing. Find a photo that accentuates all the best parts of your face--Dani, after an hour of careful consideration, wound up going with one that accentuated her hair, more than anything, but she suspects the same idea counts. Then, the profile. What do you like? Teaching, long walks, new experiences, bad coffee. What don’t you like? 
Men, she’d thought, and snorted aloud into her wine before settling on: Deep water, accordion music, expectations, being called Danielle. 
A little more flourish, tipsy keystrokes, a casually-framed short-version of her life. Perfect. And then...well, then you hit the publish button, don’t you? You decide, for better or worse, to jump off this diving board and see just how far you can stand to swim before the energy gives out on you.
The faces appearing before her hadn’t been bad, certainly. Pretty, most of them. Interesting, a few. Still, she hadn’t swiped right on any--once or twice, because she’d forgotten which way meant yes please, but mostly because no one seemed quite...right. Which, she’d thought, was silly. The whole point of an app like this is to cast as many nets as possible and see what comes up. The whole point is to have fun. 
But every time she’d hovered over a promising image, a woman who likes dogs, or plays the violin, or goes rock-climbing in her spare time, she’d thought of him. Eddie. Who had taken one yes to a single date, and tried to make a whole life with her out of it. 
Eddie, who had taken her two decades to pull away from. 
What if the women here were the same? Not Eddie, exactly, but--presumptive. What if they believed a swipe-right was as good as a marriage proposal? What if she got bound up in conversation, and then a date, and then a relationship with someone else who just didn’t fit right?
Left. Left. Left. 
And then: the mistake.
She hadn’t meant to swipe right. Exactly. She hadn’t planned, maybe is the better way of putting it, on swiping right. She’d only wanted to look at the woman’s profile a little longer. Only wanted to inspect the facets this woman had put out on display with almost resigned simplicity. 
Some people, Dani had by now realized, wrote poetry and paragraphs to describe themselves. 
Jamie Taylor had bullet points.
“Gardener. English. Likes: Plants. Stories. Tea. Dislikes: Bullshit.”
The end. That had been quite literally the sum of it. Gardener. English. No bullshit.
But the picture, somehow, Dani hadn’t been able to look away from. Not because of carefully-arranged lighting, not because of a curated model-clean image--but because the woman appeared to have posted the photo almost under duress. It came in profile, as though someone else had done the job, her head turned toward the camera as if interrupted. Her hands were buried in a flower pot. Her clothes were simple--a tank top, a silver chain resting against the jut of collarbones, a pair of worn-looking jeans with holes in the knees. Her eyes--some fascinating color Dani couldn’t quite place--looked somewhere between amused and irritated. 
She looked real. 
Stupid, Dani thinks now--because that was probably the idea, wasn’t it? This woman, Jamie, had planned to look exactly this way. Real. Vexed at the idea of putting herself out there. Reluctantly available. 
It was a ploy, certainly--but one that seems to be working, because not only did Dani accidentally-not-accidentally swipe right, she found herself texting the woman. For hours. She’d expected much less, had figured this Jamie person would be as brief in text as she had been in bio, but...
Jamie had talked to her. Willingly. Teasingly, with more humor than truth, maybe, but with no sign at all that she was sick of Dani’s questions, bad jokes, nervous assessment that I really don’t do this, I honestly don’t get it. 
I don’t, either, Jamie had replied, and that had felt like enough of a reason to keep testing the waters. Enough of a reason to keep the conversation going back and forth, back and forth, until nearly two in the morning.
Shit, she’d said. I need to be at work in four hours. 
Shame, Jamie had replied, her tone already searingly familiar over text. Own your own business, make your own hours. Far wiser approach. 
I’ll make a note of it for when I found an elementary school, Dani had replied, laughing. She hadn’t said she’d already been in bed for an hour, the phone resting on the pillow beside her head so she wouldn’t miss the buzz of a new message. It had seemed perfectly reasonable at the time, with wine-warmed blood and the happy haze of good conversation. Jamie made her laugh. Jamie put her at ease. Jamie might not have been real, but she felt real, and that was good. 
Better than anything she’d felt in years, if she was honest with herself. 
Still, when the next day had come and gone with no message, she’d thought, Fair enough. Jamie had been good virtual company for one night. It was more than she’d expected to get out of this app.
Far more than she’d expected, particularly when Thursday night rolled around and her phone buzzed.
Teacher, yeah? No school on Saturday?
Correct, Dani had replied, as amused by the out-of-left-field text as she was irritated with how her stomach had flipped over upon receiving it. You have figured out the complexity of the American school system. 
I am a genius, Jamie sent back, followed quickly by: Drinks tomorrow night? 
Drinks. A thing that people do. A thing that adult people do for date reasons. 
She isn’t real, she’d thought, even as her thumb was punching back: How’s 8? Miller’s?
A mistake. Definitely a mistake. Because the app had been a lark, and the conversation had been too easy, and the fact that she can’t quite pick out the colors in Jamie’s eyes from a single photo is making her crazier than she’d like to admit. 
A mistake, saying yes. A mistake, suggesting the local pub-like establishment around the corner, whose beer-and-burger specials had kept her fed on too many evenings spent working late. A mistake, because once this goes south--as it’s absolutely bound to, as everything Eddie-shaped always has--she’s going to lose her favorite hangout in the deal, too.
And yet: here she is. Standing at the door, wondering if the outfit chosen for the evening festivities--tight jeans, pink blouse, hoop earrings--is too much or not nearly enough. 
What am I doing here?
Maybe, she thinks with mingled alarm and hope, she won’t even have showed up. Maybe it’s all part of the ruse: look approachable, look human and normal, look a little too beautiful in the most grounded way possible--then, cheerfully, invite a woman to drinks and just don’t show. A fun story for whoever comes next. Can you believe she thought I’d want to meet her after one night of texting?
English, Dani thinks with a sudden rush of heat. Right. Somehow, she hadn’t quite been prepared for the accent, which--coming out of this woman, draped with languid ease at a table--is truly a little more than Dani thinks she can handle just now. The accent, combined with the mess of curls dragged back from her face, and a dress sense that manages to be both casual and deeply attractive at the same time, is...
“Jamie,” she says, her voice a little lower, a little more hoarse, than is truly necessary. The woman pushes up from her seat, a small-framed figure in a black button-down, suspenders, ripped jeans. She’s pressing a hand toward Dani, offering a firm shake as though they are business partners, not an off-the-cuff bad idea of a date. “You look--”
“Never been here before,” Jamie says, almost apologetically. She gestures for Dani to sit before dropping back down in a sprawl that implies exactly the opposite of what her mouth is insisting. “Wasn’t sure about the, ah, dress code.”
“You--you did fine,” Dani tells her, wishing suddenly she’d gone for a dress. Or a  different human body altogether. She feels too tightly-strung, too anxious for the easy smile on Jamie’s lips. “Um. You’re very. In person.”
“Very,” Jamie repeats, a hint of uncertainty in her voice. “Is very American for wish I’d gone left, after all?”
“No. No. Absolutely not. That.” Bit too forceful, she suspects, judging by the smile spreading into a grin. “No, it’s just--your picture didn’t--tell me you’d be so...”
“Clean?” Jamie suggests innocently. She raises her hands, wiggling her fingers in a small wave. “Scrub up fine, when I need to. Seemed to call for it.”
“And you...sure did answer,” Dani says stupidly. “The. Call, I mean. I’m sorry, I really don’t do this often.”
Something seems to soften in Jamie, her smile less teasing as she leans across the table. “Hey, no worries here. Same person you were talking to the other night.”
Dani nods, embarrassed, and flags down a server. Drinks ordered, she draws in a deep breath.
“I mean, I haven’t done this in years. Or. Ever, I guess.”
“A first date?” Jamie asks. When Dani doesn’t answer, she adds in a knowing tone, “A date with a woman?”
“Both,” Dani says honestly. “My last relationship was--well, I mean, we were engaged--”
Jamie whistles under her breath, reaching up to scratch her head. “Blimey. What happened?”
“He’s...him.” It’s too much to go into on a first date, too much to explain, even though talking to Jamie over text had been so dangerously easy. “My best friend growing up, but that was...growing up.”
Jamie nods thoughtfully, tilting her chin in thanks when the server deposits two full pint glasses and a basket of fries on the table. “Rough time, sounds like. I can relate. My last relationship also did not go well.”
“Was he also a man who thought you’d be all too happy to quit your job and take care of a bunch of babies?” Dani asks, perhaps a little too bitterly for the occasion. Jamie flashes another grin, sipping her drink.
“She was a woman who thought I’d be all too happy to take the fall when she got busted for possession.”
Dani gapes. “Oh. Oh--I didn’t know--I’m so--”
Jamie shrugs. “She wasn’t wrong. I was nineteen, and deeply stupid. Live and learn, as the poets say.”
“Which poets?” Dani asks, smiling a little. Jamie’s brow furrows.
“John...Lennon, possibly? Hard to say. Anyway, relationships are a chore and a half, but the greatest people in the world tell me thirty is too old to play musical bedframes, so. Here we are.”
No bullshit, thinks Dani approvingly. For what little she’d put into her profile, Jamie evidently hadn’t been lying about that.
“You haven’t been in a relationship since you were nineteen?”
“In my mind, I was still in the relationship at twenty-four, when they let me out. She didn’t agree. Found out she’d been married two years, by then.” Something darkens in Jamie’s eyes for a moment. She sighs. “Like I said. Not my finest. But I am, as they say, a shining beacon of reform these days.”
“Now, when you say they,” Dani teases, grinning. Jamie nods decisively. 
“John Lennon. Definitively.”
There it is, thinks Dani, watching Jamie pop a fry into her mouth. There, the easy roll of conversation from the other night. As though they’ve known each other forever. As though two people who have thus far failed irrevocably at relationships make a perfect match.
Easy, she thinks. Don’t go wild, now. 
“So,” she says, when the comfortable silence between them has grown a bit too comfortable for the setting, “who are the greatest people in the world? The ones who tell you thirty is too old for...did you say musical bedframes?”
Jamie laughs. The ring of it curls gently around Dani’s head like a soft hand, a sound she’ll find herself replaying later with a skipping heart. 
“Not many willing to put up with a grump of my caliber, but Hannah and Owen fight the good fight. So long as I at least pretend to try.”
“Let me guess. They set up the account for you?”
Jamie makes a sort of gesture in the air with the hand not holding her glass. “Threatened to bury me in puns and children, respectively, if I kept putting it off. Owen’s still grumpy about the photo choice.”
“I liked it,” Dani says without thinking. Jamie raises an eyebrow.
“Well, you did swipe as much. Mind if I ask why?”
Walked into this one. Still, she doesn’t mind as much as she probably should, not with the genuine curiosity in Jamie’s eyes. “You looked--don’t laugh.”
“No promises,” Jamie says, but with the gentle tone of one who knows exactly how much to tease before it’ll hurt. The idea warms Dani in a way she’s not quite ready to look at yet.
“You looked real,” Dani says. “Like you weren’t going to play games, or waste anyone’s time. Like you just wanted to be happy in peace.”
“That is,” Jamie says, holding out a fry for Dani to take, “sort of the idea, yeah.”
There’s an almost puzzled cast to her smile, like she didn’t entirely expect this answer, and is pleased by it at the same time. That same sense from the photo sweeps over Dani now--that this woman is authentic, even if she’s not always shiny, that she’s kind even if not entirely clean. That she doesn’t have any interest in muddled expectation or living a comfortable lie.
“And me?” Dani asks. She doesn’t entirely mean to--but she’s sure, in asking, that Jamie will answer. Jamie is unlike anyone else she’s ever met, the first person she’s ever known to meet each question head-on. 
Dani nods. Jamie seems to consider it, turning it over in her head as she twists a fry between her fingers like a cigarette. 
“All of it.”
“That’s,” Dani begins to laugh, “that’s not--”
“No,” Jamie says, and she isn’t smiling, exactly. Her eyes have a sort of shine Dani likes very much, but there is no hint of teasing in them now. “Really. All of it. You’re...very pretty, and that’s--but the way you described yourself. Like you didn’t care to be anyone in particular. You like new experiences, and bad coffee. You hate being called Danielle. I...I wanted to know why.”
“It’s not my name,” Dani says simply. Jamie gives a brief laugh, her hand moving across the table to lightly brush Dani’s fingertips. 
“I wanted to know why all of it. Why do you like bad coffee--”
“It’s the only kind I know how to make,” Dani says automatically. “Just sort of leaned into it.”
“--and teaching--”
“I want to make a difference,” Dani says. 
“--and where you most like to go on those long walks--”
“Anywhere I can breathe,” Dani says. Her fingers are hesitant, tracing the tips of Jamie’s. There’s something electric about this, about barely touching, about barely knowing someone and still wanting to give them neatly-packaged secrets shaped like the mundane. 
Jamie is smiling. “See, that. I like that. All of it.”
It’s nothing, Dani thinks reflexively. A collection of details. A sparse approximation of a life. Eddie knows all of this, and then some, and never matched up to knowing her.
But this woman, leaning across the table with one hand outstretched, looks so different. Watches her with steady interest. Is listening to every word Dani says, though the bar is growing crowded around them, and soon, conversation will become a task instead of a gift.
“Would you,” Dani says, feeling certain that some mistakes are not as bad as they seem, “like to take one of those walks?”
“Yeah. Tonight.” Emboldened by the smile, by the curl falling into Jamie’s eyes, by the knowledge that she still can’t quite make out what color those eyes are, Dani takes her hand. It’s so easy, she thinks she could do it even without looking. “Right now.”
No bullshit, she thinks. No expectations. Just Jamie looking at her like she can’t quite believe what she’s seeing. Dani can’t blame her. This isn’t at all what she’d thought she was getting, walking in tonight. 
But there’s something about it--something about the feeling that she’s been here before, or should be here forever, or will always find her way back to a woman who looks at her just like this--that almost makes her feel brave. Almost makes her feel wonderful. She rises from the table, laying cash beneath her half-empty glass, and feels a pleasant jolt in her chest when Jamie follows without another word.
If this a mistake, she thinks as they step out into the brisk evening air, it’s one she’s hungry to make. 
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briightcopperkettles · 4 months ago
ok bhah ch1 reread thought dump lets goooo
@youngbloodbuzz  @romanitwontletmetagyouuuu??? thank u for writing this. in return I gift u this lightly unhinged commentary
oh the opening quote “Do you think it all meant nothing, all the longing? The longing for home?” violence
lmao ok I started this ages ago and then got distracted for a week because that’s just who I am as a person lets try that again
eddie n his glowing glasses nice we love a canon nod
ok I remember getting really emotional reading the chapter where Dani’s car died bc of what it represented to her n now I’m being reminded of it all again with the ‘poor little car’ comment oh dear we’re like 2 paragraphs in and I’m already compromised
the wavering reflection in the water in her hands..... Dani posessed by the ghost of comphet..... I am Drawing Conclusions
eddie “we can hang out more” dani “aha wouldn’t that be neat”
god the prom photo... remembering Dani’s meltdown at the prom bc she missed Jamie... I’m dying Jack I’m dying
lil palm kiss... I know u will not ever love hm that way Dani but fuck I’m a sucker for a palm kiss
lil nerd ass w her folder tabs I love her
god the tone of this is so comforting like I can just hang out n imagine each scene progressing so naturally. wish I did not have to suffer emotionally at the same time but at least it’s a smooth read
Dani feeling like an invader amongst all the physical representations of her relationship w eddie BABY U DON’T HAVE TO LIVE THIS WAY STOP LETTING OTHER PEOPLE INFLUENCE UR LIFE AND RUIN UR HAPPINESS
“Hannah Grose, seamlessly elegant” yes
Hannah: congrats on ur engagement. Dani, with tears in her eyes: thank
Dani relaxing when they’re talking about teaching pls I love her love for it so much
Dani at the blackboard with the “Miss, Ms?” confusion now I am thinking about the Ted Moseby professor/proffessor scene. HIMYM my beloved
mikeyyyy my boy
the image of Dani w chalk dust on her skirt is v endearing.
oooh the library trip gay foreshadowing yes
wait the silver stars on his backpack......... cup of stars crying time
Mikey correcting her on his name when she was the one to give him the nickname in the first place... feeling some kind of way
Dani fostering the talents she sees in her kids is so sweet and mikey shy lil math genuis is also so sweet pls i love this duo
i do wonder if part of her is like I know a Mikey Taylor but I literally refuse to believe it is the same one bc his sister broke my heart and we are absolutely not in the business of confronting hard feelings in this house!!
keys on a lanyard... ok lesbian
“You’re still here?” the love I have for canon lines being used when I can hear them being said in my head
awww bonding over Wonder Woman. cute!!!! When Dani becomes Mikey’s official second mum (everyone be quiet I am manifesting) my heart will explode
eddie ur really just gonna rock up and toot at her. jail for 1000 years
ooohhh Dani is Realising who the sister is. honey you got a big storm comin. oof (the ‘wonder woman punching stars out of her foes” to “dani feeling like she’s just recieved a blow to the ribs.” the cinnamontography). aw baby :(
“Jamie. Jamie, here. Jamie, home.” please i am thinking about her last letter and I am not strong enough
“Somehow Eddie didn’t notice.” sum up a relationship in a sentence
“Jamie would appear, as if summoned by the gravity of Dani’s pounding heart” fuck this hits on so many levels I need to go think about my life for 45mins
CARSON MY BOY. in his studded leather. a fashionable gay never loses.
I looove how soft n caring Dani n Carson are with each other thank gods she has him.
god this post is already so long n I’m only halfway through why do I have so many silly thoughts
god just the... expectations of affection from her by eddie w that placating cheek kiss she gives him is like... I cannot imagine Jamie ever asking that from her in the same way even when they are in a relationship!!! and it’s not even wrong of him to do that??? but it’s just a lot to think about the kind of person Dani makes herself to be to stay with him vs the kind of person Jamie lets her be by not expecting anything of her. they’re such opposites
dani not even feeling at home in her own (former) home pls when is she going to find a soft place to land (it’s also making me think v hard about the title like... the haunting of Dani and Jamie’s relationship (and what that represents for Dani) on Dani’s whole life and Jamie coming home and bringing that to Dani’s doorstep. resurecting a ghost so to speak........ too many homes to think about. I don’t know if I fully understand but I am Thinking)
dani and her inhaler... asthmatic bitches represent
oh my god not the box of memories. been trying to erase that from my own for weeks now let me live
ooh the line about her feeling like an archaeologist at the start of this section and then her ‘exhuming the past’ w the photos of her n Jamie i love a consistent narrative.
THE MIXTAPE. THE MIXTAPE. is there a playlist for this chapter I would like to take that aural journey
oh no i cannot remember where the flower comes from but aahhh this box of memories pain.
this description of carson in a tight white undershirt tucked into his jeans makes me think of freddie mercury. didn’t mean to make you cry etc
lmao Dani trying to get info from Judy abt Jamie in a roundabout way... international superspy she is not
Dani entirely uncomfy in church... i feel it. godd the repression of it all w the movie and the feelings and the Jamie-influence on the feelings my heart hurts.
God knowing how much Judy loves her but the weight of that love also stifling her... pain
they’ve really got her all shacked up w a house and a husband and a kid on the way can we let the girl be a lesbian in peace (also lowkey hoping Dani gets some time on her own at some point no Eddie no Jamie no weight of expectations pls she needs it we all need it)
the thread of Dani refusing to do things for herself in order to make other people happy throughout this entire piece hits so fucking close to home and is entirely heartbreaking to read thank you
Jamie: appears. Dani: every single emotion all at once
Judy and her girls back together is v sweet even if Dani is dying inside at it all
“Jamie only had eyes for Dani.” Again, sum up a relationship in a sentence.
What do you even say to a girl who *the sky goes dark as i attempt to even summarise a fraction of their relationship*. Apparently the answer is “Jamie. Hi.”
It’s ahh. fairly entertaining to be going through Dani’s emotional journey alongside her and knowing that Jamie is also Going Through It on some level but having 0 insights to it bc she keeps her emotions so in check.
oooh how much of a gut punch is this engagement revelation for Jamie??? like on some level I’m sure she always knew this was coming but I’m sure another part of her still desperately hoped one day Dani would choose her. god I would kill for Jamie’s POV in this scene
Jamie’s scarrrr. Literally Dani’s impact
oh fucking hell that moment of like... familiarity and almost a coming home for Dani when Judy is talking and she meets Jamie’s eyes... she really was entirely screwed from that moment on huh.
oof god this is a hell of an opening chapter lets see if my attention span will let me continue this journey (also @ myself reminder to read this all in chronological order one day for a real nice session of emotional destruction)
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soulwillower · a year ago
buttercup • richie tozier
(richie tozier x reader)
requested: Would you mind writing a Richie Tozier X reader soulmate AU where Richie is VERY self conscious and he finds out that the reader is his soulmate and the reader is well known and very pretty, so he’s just like djjdjfgjjcbvnfnf but once they actually meet she really likes him? :0 thanks if you consider!
warning: swearing, angst, richie being edgy and also a bit unstable (king shit), neuroatypical richie!!!, fluff, soulmate au!! <33 also sorry this may be rough, i havent edited it at all
[reader + losers are in college]
lmk what u guys think of this one,... idk LOL
4.1k words
richie was about to be sick. yes, he really, really was going to vomit in approximately ten seconds and he didn’t know what he was going to do. the room, full of barely-adults chugging jungle juice was sweaty and bustling and the walls were closing in on him quick. those people who weren't in the main rooms were doing sniff in the bathrooms and blocking his pathway to heaven (the toilet) so he quickly stumbles towards the sliding-glass door.
he passes a guy who claps his shoulder and says in a deep voice, "you good, bro?"
no, no. he's not good, bro. thanks for asking, though.
as he finally breaks free of the plastic, out of the crusty balloon that was holding his body hostage, he takes a deep breath and sprawls himself on the back deck, staring up at the clouds in the nighttime sky. maybe he should go home and mull this over, before he crams it down his own throat and chokes to death, alone and broken on the back deck of a 22 year old business major's rental house.
he laughs to himself - an image which he's sure would be a full on maniacal scene to an onlooker - as he lights a cigarette with very shaky fingers. even if he chooses to give this situation some thought, he will end up being forced regardless because this is, quite literally, richard tozier's destiny.
y/n y/l/n is richie's destiny, and it makes him feel like complete shit.
you see - his whole life, richie knew about the fucking soulmate tattoos. of course he did, everybody did - it was, like, one of the first things you learn, ever. he knows that there's basically a soulmate for every person and often times the soulmate marks were different, the ways of finding your soulmate were wide and far.
for most of richie's life - actually, almost all of it up until the last month - he'd had a big, fat 0 tattooed on his arm and below it a humiliating phrase that was quite the epitome of richie himself.
yet it never changed, which led him, his friends, and his parents to determine that he'd gotten a time-counter soulmate mark, which he likes to pride himself on believing he did not give a single fuck about.
the number is supposed to count the amount of time that you've spent with your soulmate, and there's usually a sentence or phrase that's associated with your soulmate's first thoughts of you below it. and yeah, of course the first thing the lucky guy or gal thought of richie is 'wow, those are the ugliest socks ever.' pretty fucking on-brand, if richie says so himself.
so yeah, he never really paid attention to his soulmate mark - partly because the thought of emotionally opening up to someone enough for them to know his whole and true self was repulsive and terrifying enough to make him physically ill, enough for him to develop a crazy sense of humor as a less-than proficient coping mechanism for the insecurity and fear that lives in his mind rent-free, 24/7 365. but mostly he didn't pay attention to the mark because, you know, he thought it was lame.
that is, until it changed from the 0.
it happened on the first day of classes fall semester of this, his freshman year of college.
which, honestly, was a huge fucking bummer, because he literally came into contact with almost 800 new people that first day through classes, dorms, walking around campus, and the dining hall. and yet, as he got back to his dorm and smoked a bowl with bill, he'd noticed that his arm had said 00:51:26.
bill had been so excited he'd almost lifted richie through the roof, because 'holy sh-shit, rich, y-you did it!'
it was hard to believe someone was out there for him, though. and yeah, he didn't give a fuck about it, but he also kind of did.
richie, now thinking back on that day, groans a bit. if he'd just known, if he had just fucking looked at the thigh of the girl in front of him with the soft-looking grin and the alluring scent of orange creamsicle shampoo, who'd smiled a bit when he borrowed a pen - if he'd just known then that y/n was meant to spend the rest of her life with him, he could've... well, he's not really sure what he could have done.
he thinks to that moment in time, as he was blowing smoke out the dorm window with bill and giggling as he ate an entire bag of cheez-its, and how much he wanted to know who it was back then.
but tonight, it had become a nightmare when the information practically fell into his lap. he's at this house party in late september, and about five minutes ago it was just boring enough to warrant sitting on the rug in the living room and just fun enough to actually stay.
“-yeah, she said the first time you guys met was in microeconomics, right?” ben says, and richie huffs in agreement as he picks at the skin on his nails. ben was talking about her again, and richie's heart was beating stupidly hard. y/n, one of his closest friends that he'd made outside of the losers, never failed to make his heart run a goddamn marathon.
“-she told me the first thing she noticed was that you were wearing socks with sandals. and she thought that your socks were really ugly.” he finishes with a laugh and richie’s head snaps up at that. he feels chills spill over back as if he’d been doused with ice water and he gapes at ben. “wait, what?” richie shudders, the words escaping his lips quietly enough that his friends mistake it for a forceful exhale brought on by offense at the word 'ugly.'
“well she was right to think that.” stan says from behind his solo cup, carefree, as if richie’s life wasn’t crashing to an alarming and unbelievable halt. eddie giggles faintly somewhere from the floor where the losers are sitting, but richie’s mind is reeling too much for him to react to or even comprehend anything.
“rich, i th-thought i got you to st-stop wearing socks and sandals so long ago.” bill adds, laughing into his hand. but richie’s barely registering any other fucking information because he’s staring at ben, who is finally noticing his friend’s perplexed face. “you good, rich?” ben asks carefully.
“wh-er, wait. what exactly did she say?” richie asks, really not wanting to know the answer and yet wanting to know more than life itself. it can't be her. he’s getting odd looks from everyone now, but he's starting to breathe quickly and he thinks he might vomit. he kind of regrets never showing anybody but big bill his soulmate mark, because he's suffocating right now in embarrassment and bill is a little too drunk to assume what richie's assuming right now.
“wait, y/n y/l/n, right? from my dorm. she’s here tonight, she told me- oh, y/n!” stan calls, looking directly over richie’s shoulder. it happens so fast. y/n, in the flesh, walks past at just that moment, breaking out into a breath-taking, world-halting smile. richie's chest hurts worse than it ever has before as she waves and bustles over to plop herself next to richie. and holy shit, she's wearing shorts because even though it's cold out, the house is warm and richie can see dark ink on her thigh. a soulmate tattoo. he can't draw his eyes away even though his brain is screaming to knock it off because there's going to be something there he doesn't want to accept, but he then does it anyways.
he almost hyperventilates as he reads the words emblazoned on her thigh,
27:36:08 and right below it: "holy hell her hair smells like orange creamsicle"
he almost sobs right then and there as she greets him with a soft hand on his shoulder, completely unaware of their fate and richie has to stand up abruptly because he can literally feel the numbers changing on his arm as the seconds go by with y/n at his side.
and now, mere minutes later he's out here, laying in self pity as anxiety claws at every inch of his body and fear tingles on him like the slight presence of snowflakes falling on his skin - briefly he wonders if, as an older man, he'll wonder how he never got cold wearing nothing, vulnerable as he welcomes in that falling snow.
he would be totally daft not to wonder how he ended up with a soulmate like her, someone not only so fucking attractive but so kind and undeserving of a monstrosity of a human like him. she is, in every place he isn't, a complete and utter success of a person; he's a hurricane where she's whitecaps in the sea, he's loud and abrupt while she is kind and outgoing. maybe they do work well together, hell - they spend enough time on study dates outside of class for him to know that he does really like her. but richie also knows his standoffish, happy-go-lucky and untamed personality paired with his unwillingness to make himself appear vulnerable to most people will probably have a very large impact on... whatever it is that happens with y/n.
because that's really the point, isn't it?
she is stuck with him. bucky beaver, the trashmouth, mr. i-can't-keep-my-trap-shut-for-three-seconds. y/n, the most incredible person in this world, is the kind of person that was designed for richie to admire from afar, as he is so willing to suffer through. because as much as it hurts to watch her and to love her without loving her, it is a thousand times safer for both of them than the inevitable look of disappointment that will befall y/n’s angelic features when she discovers who her burden of a soulmate is.
the thought makes richie choke out a weak sob, sitting up and digging the heel of his palms into his sockets, trying to scrub out the image of himself from his brain. awful, awful, bad.
he takes a long drag from his cigarette and for a brief moment he wonders if, just maybe, she’ll love him back eventually. the thought makes him feel like crying all over again.
huge nose, big teeth, awkwardly skinny and too tall. maybe he's got nice hair, but he sometimes wakes up too late and can only brush his teeth and swipe on deodorant before he's sprinting out his dorm with his pickle socks and stan's old sandals, trudging to class and getting in the way of y/n's future.
but he is her future, after all - how can that be right?
he doesn't have enough time to take another drag from his cig as he hears the glass door open, the noise from the party bursting through the gap in the foundation of the house and sending him back to five minutes, ago, inside. he cranes his neck and can't bring himself to be surprised when he sees her, backlit from the party inside and figure in his mind standing like the only being in the world.
she thinks he looks devastatingly beautiful tonight. she loves the awkwardness in his bones, the way he carries himself with confidence although she's not sure he always really has it. he's wearing some dumb socks again as usual, though they're mostly covered by his black pants and red high-tops this time. it makes her smile softly.
she wants to know him, really know him, as more than just a classmate, a crush, a boy who's friends with stan uris from the floor above her own room. she wants to feel his large hands on her in more than just fleeting greetings, knucks to the shoulder or jaw. she wants the sharp taste of nicotine and mint from those life savers he was always sucking on in her own mouth as he holds her tightly against him, she wants to know everything about him and be with him, even if they aren't somehow destined to be forever. which, she thinks with an array of wild animals tumbling around her chest, they might be.
after all, someone at this party is her soulmate, and she's almost 99.8% sure it's richie. it gives her the most beautiful butterflies she's ever had, even when he stares at her from the deck with glassy eyes and tear-stained cheeks.
"what’s up, buttercup?” is all she says, in her mind because he's stunned her to near-silence once again by just existing, and in his mind because she is the most perfect being.
he doesn't respond despite being completely charmed by her, because he's breathing in the nicotine and its making his fingers twitch and even though he's sober by now, he thinks he may be tweaking a bit, mostly from the overwhelming set of information that just smacked into his face when y/n walked over into that room.
he watches as suddenly she's dropping herself so she's sat next to him, her legs swinging off the edge of the deck. she eyes his cigarette. "that's so unhealthy, rich." she says softly, teasing but with a lacing of truth behind it that really makes richie itch to never smoke ever again in his life. but he's a stubborn ass, so he instead takes a deeper drag, maintaining eye contact. he can feel one tear slip from his eye and he feels so fucking melodramatic as he does so, but he's at the lowest he's been in a while, so he gives himself a bit of credit.
she reaches out and pulls the cigarette directly from between his lips, sending him a pointed look as she presses it out on the finished wood of the deck. he wipes the tear away when she's not looking. and as she turns back he smirks, unsure what else to do, as he blows the smoke out of his mouth towards her face.
"hi, toots." he says in what he hopes is a normal tone, despite his blotchy and tear-trailed face. she blinks her eyes owlishly at him but just shrugs, "you left a little prematurely back there. what, do i smell that bad?" she jokes. no, he thinks, you smell like orange creamsicles.
it's bittersweet, the irony in her statement. because he knows that she probably knows what she smells like every day, as it's literally tattooed right on the meat of her leg, on display for her and whoever else lucky enough to find themselves being acquainted with the skin of her upper thigh. the thought leaves a sour taste in his mouth.
maybe if he were feeling a little less in-the-dumps, a little less like a complete and utter disappointment and failure that ruined this sweet girl's life, he would have ribbed her back a bit. you know, grind her gears in typical tozier fashion.
but he's exhausted and so distraught that he can't bring himself to even look at her. "i'm not in the mood" he grumbles, his heart pounding. she frowns, tilting her head.
"okay, what's wrong, richie?" she asks, and it's in that caring voice that she uses that isn't pitying but simply solicitous in nature. her calming force on him is obvious and immediate and his teeth stop rattling around in his head
he wants to scream because she's burning warm and perfect while he's frigid cold inside his body; a wasteland full of broken slinkies and half-formulated 'your mom' jokes that are melded to the crust of him with the tar that's been sucked straight from those damn ciggies. for crying out loud, if he were to so much as touch her, she'd get corrupted.
she notices as he scoots a bit away from her, and her heart hurts. he's so upset, clearly, and yet it hurts her that he can't trust himself or her enough to open up; no fault of his own surely, but heartbreaking all the same. "i care about you, and i really want to be here for you." she says it like there's going to be more, but the words kind of die in her throat as she realizes the extend of her words.
holy shit, she thinks, i'd go to the ends of the earth for him. if richie asked me to, i think i'd probably kill the queen.
"i stubbed my toe, and it really hurts." he says then, and the absurdity of his excuse makes her laugh out loud, head tilting back towards the moon as the bubbly giggles tumble from her lips. she looks at him after and his face is a twisted mix of affection and utter pain, a combination that hurts her to her core but lights a fuel in her that makes her want to help him.
"it's true." he mutters, motioning to his shoe limply, and she looks at his foot, the tip of his converse scribbled in sharpie with the word 'half-brain' and then a bunch of hearts.
"i like your socks." she says absentmindedly, grinning at him as she says it, voice teasing. but the reaction she was hoping for was nowhere to be seen as richie suddenly heaves a hiccup-sob, one so upsetting and quiet that she thinks she misheard it.
but he's keeling over and clutching his face with his hands, shaking his head, and her heart breaks. "richie, honey please tell me what's going on. or i can just sit here, if you'd rather-"
her sentence is cut off with richies own rushed words, expelled from his mouth so quickly that it's almost as if they were trying to escape while his lips tried to hold them in.
"-you're going to have to spend the rest of your life trying to force yourself to love me, and that terrifies me.”
as he says it, his stomach twists itself inwards at his admission and he thinks he's going to be sick. he doesn't deserve you, you're going to resent him for it. she's silent for a few moments, and he doesn't dare look anywhere near her as tears trail down his solemn cheekbones and drop onto the black corduroy that wraps around his jittering legs.
"richie, please, what are you trying to say?" she says quietly, sounding scared, nervous, upset... richie did that. it's his fault. he tilts his head back, his brain buzzing in guilt. "fuck," he says, and it comes out broken, "you... i- you're my soulmate." he says, looking down to where his chest rises and falls almost unnaturally, a consequence of muscle memory being tampered with by the lethally college combination of nicotine, alcohol and marijuana on an empty stomach.
earlier he was afraid that if he opened his mouth too wide he would lose control of his tongue and then the words would come out without him wanting them to, but he knows he's basically sober by now, as sober as y/n is next to him - he's just neurotic, but he doesn't want her to know that, because oh god, what if she hated him for it?
she wouldn't, right? isn't she supposed to find a way to love him?
this was a really stupid idea, but in his mind it was one that had to be done. shutting his eyes, he tugs the sleeve of his left arm upwards, taking a shaky breath. again, it's silent as she reads the words written there. wow, those are the ugliest socks ever.
she stares at the words, and the number above it, then she looks at her own thigh, where the exact same number counts on in time with his.
he wastes no time, though: "-don't worry, doll. i've got it figured out, we can just- maybe we can get yours covered and you don't have to think about it anymore. fi-find someone better, like, oh, bill - he'd treat you nice i think. just- we don't have to think about it, i'm sorry." he says in one breath, not looking at her at all.
"richie, how can i be yours if you're not mine?" she says thickly because she's fighting off tears wondering how someone so incredible and full of life could feel so undeserving.
"you can't want me, you can't." he insists, not looking at her as she gapes at him because if he were to look at her expression he may lose it. it's quiet again in their own little world here, the air silent and numbing as y/n takes a breath.
"oh my god, wait richie how are we this stupid?" she asks, perking up and lightly slapping his arm. he looks at her in shock as she begins to laugh, "we've been alone together so many times. how did we not notice?" she asks, and he chuckles a bit, shrugging.
"maybe we're not the sharpest crayons in the drawer, toots. all i'm sayin' is that i figured it out first." he says cheekily, and secretly both of them are shocked to see how quickly they fell together, as if the knowledge that they were made for each other made all their insecurities fall away.
her face softens again. "you know, i saw my timer counting tonight and i was hoping more than anything that you'd be here. that we'd be-" she adds softly, a hand landing lightly on richie's thigh, sending licks of flames up his body. she takes a breath and restarts. "do you know how fucking bad i wanted it to be you?"
and just like that, y/n unintentionally provides a luscious mix of words and tricks that fill him with barely enough confidence to let him bet when he knows he should fold.
what's life without a little risk?
he meets her eyes for the first time in a few minutes and hers are large and hopeful as they wait patiently for him to give her something. but he still can't speak without running his mouth, so instead he cups her cheeks. her lips part slowly and he stares in awe at her raw beauty, unable to hold it in longer.
he presses his lips to her quickly and to her it feels like he is trying to prove something. it makes her heart soar as he comes alive against her, pressing as enthusiastically as she is into him. he tastes, as she'd guessed, like nicotine but mostly like a mint and it makes her grin as he pulls back.
"is this okay?" he's asking then, his thumb soothing over her cheek sweetly and giving her the same butterflies she gets when he smiles; the very same butterflies that release when he says anything to her, when he comes to her dorm for a study date with two red bulls in his hand, and when she realized their tattoos beat the same.
"yeah, of course." she whispers against his lips, the feeling of his teasing lightly making her sniffle. she presses their lips together again, this time warmer, more comfortably and his hands move to her hips and tug her closer, her hands winding to his neck as his own hands explore her body, caressing her sides gently. he pulls back and holds her softly.
"your hair smells nice." he says sheepishly, and she grins so widely she thinks she may split in two. her heart flutters as she looks into his eyes, finding nothing but love. "orange creamsicle, huh?" she asks with pink cheeks, and he laughs lightly, nodding his head. "best smell ever, babe."
"you make me happy." she says it onto his lips again, and the shiver that runs down his spine is a feeling he wouldn't mind feeling forever. his heart soars because he believes her, he trusts her. she wouldn't lie to him.
"we're so dramatic, aren't we?" richie jokes, his walls sliding back up a bit, but as y/n cuddles into his chest, head against his beating heart as she presses kisses to his neck, he realizes she accepts him.
"yeah, well. we're made for each other, aren't we rich?" she asks gently as his hand falls to brush over her thigh, right over the words. "that's right, toots." he says softly, looking down at her hairline softly, still in disbelief that it worked out for him. she turns to look at him, cheeks dusted a bit as she leans up to press a kiss on his lips.
tag list: @gabiatthedisco @blisshemmings​ @stenbrozier​ @simplesammyx​ @dickology64​ @clownsloveyou​ @baby-yoda-a @moon-shine-baby​ @daughter-of-the-stars11 @lets-vibe-bro​ @trashedfortozier​ @oceandog13​ @finnskindofwoman​  @kait-tozier​ @upamongthestarss​ @fiantomartell @beverlyparkerr @beauregard-s @diorbubs 
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blindlesbian · 11 months ago
A christmas buddie fic
This fic is for @fyeahbuddie​ for the 911 gift exchange. @officerrxyes​ Buck was in Eddie's kitchen baking festive cookies with Chris on Christmas Eve. He thought it would be the perfect way to wind down, but it ended up being harder than he imagined. Eddie accidentally added way more. Instead of twenty cookies, they were now baking forty. All three had spent the day out, hanging with friends and family. Unlike last year the 118 wasn't scheduled to work for the holiday, which everyone was thankful for. "How much longer is dad gonna be," Chris asked. Eddie was out buying more frosting because they'd run out. Chris was eager to finish decorating his cookies, and so was Buck. 
"Soon, don't worry." By the time the last batch of cookies finished baking, Eddie had arrived. "Hey guys, I got the stuff!" Chris squealed, "hurry, dad, I wanna decorate my snowman!"  After about an hour of eating and decorating, Chris was put to bed a little past his bedtime. Buck was still in the kitchen, washing dishes because they didn't clean up while they worked. "Buck, thanks for doing this tonight," Eddie said, leaning against the door frame. "Yeah, of course, no problem. You know I love hanging out with Chris." Eddie walked over to the sink, "let me help you out." Buck sat down at the kitchen table with a tired sigh after they finished, "next time, let's not bake cookies from scratch. It's more stressful than rescuing people from burning buildings ." He joked, and Eddie chuckled. He loved making Eddie laugh. "Do you want a drink?" Eddie asked, pulling out a bottle of wine from the cabinet. "Yes, please," Buck said. Eddie handed him a full glass, and they walked over to the couch. "I'm glad we have these two days off. Last year was a bit of a bummer," Buck stated. "You did an amazing job with the surprise Christmas dinner last year. It was super sweet." Eddie said. Buck blushed, "it was nothing." They were lying on their backs on Eddie's living room floor, Buck's head resting on Eddie's chest. Neither of them dared to move; they wanted to stay like this, however long it would last. Moments like this started happening more often, where they would hold each other or touch on another as if they were together. They kept talking and drinking and time flew by. By now, they were drunk and having conversations about their childhood Christmases. "I remember when I was a senior in high school, my parents forgot about Christmas for like, the third year in a row. They were too busy trying to sell the house," Buck said. "They were always too busy for Maddie and me. But always had time to go to some stupid work event."  Eddie ran his fingers through Buck's hair. He stayed quiet, trying to figure out the most comforting to say.Buck sighed, "I'm sorry; I'm treating you like a therapist." "No, you're not," Eddie said. "Yes, I am. You don't even care," Buck stated. Eddie held Buck's chin, gently turning his face so he could look at him. "No, don't say that. I care about what you have to say." There was a moment of silence, and they just stared into each other's eyes. "I want to make you feel safe and heard." Eddie realized he was still holding Buck's face, nearly caressing it. Eddie wanted to kiss him so badly, but they were drunk, and he had no idea how Buck felt. "Eddie," was all Buck could mutter. His heart raced, he hopped Eddie couldn't feel it. Buck was just drunk enough to lean in, just a little. He hoped Eddie got the hint, but his hand let go. "It's already late. Maybe we should get some sleep; we've got a busy day tomorrow." Eddie suggested. Buck's heart sank. "Yeah, you're right," Buck sighed and slowly sat up. Words couldn't explain how stupid he felt; he couldn't believe he thought Eddie would feel the same way. "Goodnight," Eddie said, quickly exiting the living room, leaving Buck with the stupid wine bottle and glasses. ---Eddie woke up the next morning feeling like an idiot. How could he just leave like that, Eddie wondered? Last night's memories were hitting him like a wave, the conversations, how close they were, how drunk they were, Buck's head on his chest. He let his mind wander, thinking about all the things he and Buck will never have together. His alarm went off, disrupting Eddie's thoughts. It was only six-thirty, and Chris wasn't going to be awake for another hour and a half. And Buck was still here, but he didn't want to face him. He didn't want to ruin the perfect memory of last night with reality. Eddie tested the waters with a "u up" text and immediately cringed. "Yea, wanna make breakfast together?" was what Buck sent back. Eddie grinned at the reader like a child. He skipped out of bed and quickly brushed his teeth. "Hey, Merry Christmas," Buck said. His beaming smile made Eddie's heart skip a beat. "Merry Christmas," Eddie said. He looked at the kitchen counter; it was already a mess." Why does my kitchen look like this," Eddie asked. "Because I was looking for bacon," Buck said. Eddie rubbed his temple, "I don't have any bacon." "Oh," Buck giggled, and Eddie couldn't help but laugh too. "Let's just make pancakes," Buck suggested. After putting everything back into the fridge, they began working. Buck knew he was the better cook between the two, and things would've gone a lot faster he did it himself, but he loved doing things with Eddie. "How come mine keeps ending up like that," Eddie asked. They were both standing over separate burners, cooking the pancake mix. "Because you're holding it wrong, lean the pan a bit," Buck instructed. "Like this," Eddie asked. He was still holding it wrong. Buck hesitated for a moment before walking behind Eddie and snaking his hand over Eddie's. "Like that," Eddie asked. "Yeah, like that, Buck assured.  Buck's chest was pressed against Eddie's back. It was just like the night; they didn't mention how close they were to each other; they just enjoyed it. They were on their last pancake. "Good job," was all that Buck could say. He didn't want to make it weird, but this whole situation was strange. He wanted to be with his best friend, who had a kid and was married a few years ago. Buck let go of his hand and walked back over to his burner.  —- It was New Year’s Eve, and Eddie was replaying those two days in his head over and over again, trying to figure what he did wrong. Buck had been distant for a week, only a few conversations at work. “See you guys tonight,” Bobby said as they exited the firehouse. “Captain Maddie and I can only be there for an hour. We don’t wanna be away from the baby for too long,” Chimney informed. “Yeah, Mia is the same way. So I’ll also be leaving early, Hen stated. “No worries, guys,” Bobby said. “But you two will be there all night right,” Bobby asked. “Yeah, you bet, Cap,” Buck said. “Yeah, Chris and I be there all night.  He’s going through a don’t tell me when to go to sleep phase,” Eddie said. They all chuckled, said their goodbyes, and entered their cars. —-Eddie arrived with Chris on time, and the party was already in full swing. Their coworkers, family, and friends were there. “Hey Eddie, hi Chris,” Athena greeted them at the door Harry by her side. “Do you wanna play video games in my room with Denny and me,” Harry asked. Chris turned to look at Eddie, “go ahead. Be safe.” Eddie said, and the boys went off. “What’s been going on between you and Buck,” Athena asked. “Nothing’s wrong, we’re fine,” Eddie lied. Athena raised her eyebrow, “you two are usually joined at the hip, but you came here alone.” “Wow, those detective skills are top-notch,” Eddie joked, but she didn’t laugh. “Buck has been on the phone with Bobby every day, asking him for advice about you. It’s interfering with my life, so please just apologize so I can sleep peacefully,” Athena said. “But that’s the thing. There wasn’t a fight; he just stopped talking to me. I don’t know why,” Eddie explains. “You don’t know why you’re best friend is upset,” Athena asked. Eddie thought about last week for the hundredth time. Did Buck have a problem with how close they were? Did he make him uncomfortable? “Maybe I do know why,” Eddie said. —- "Hey, there you are," Buck heard Eddie say. Eddie had been searching for Buck almost all night. He was sitting on a swing bench in the backyard of Athena and Bobby's house. Eddie stood a few feet away from him as if he was terrified to go near him. "Yeah, here I am," Buck muttered. There was so much Buck wanted to say but said nothing at all. "Can I sit next to you," Eddie asked. Buck nodded, and Eddie walked over and sat down. "Did I do something wrong," Eddie asked, breaking the silence. A look of confusion swiped Buck's face. "No, of course not," Buck said. "Then why are you telling Bobby that we're fighting," Eddie asked, a little annoyed. "I never told him we were fighting; I told him that I messed up our friendship," Buck said. Now Eddie was beyond annoyed, "why would you say that. How could you have ruined our friendship?" There was a long pause. Eddie was sick of the silence."Because... I have feelings for you," Buck confessed, "and we can't be friends if I like you. It's just too weird." He couldn't even look at Eddie while he said this. "Evan, look at me," Eddie begged softly, "please." Buck scanned Eddie's face trying to figure out what he would say next. Eddie's eyes were watery, but Buck couldn't tell if it was because of the cold wind or if he was upset. Eddie held Buck's face, and Buck nearly melted. "I have a feeling for you too," Eddie stated, his voice a little shaky. And just like that, Buck was crashing his lips onto Eddie's. Everything they've ever wanted to say to one another was spoken at that moment. Eddie's hand found their way to Buck's hair, and Buck was holding on to Eddie's waist for dear life. They heard the New Year’s countdown starting, and Eddie pulled away. “Maybe we should join everyone,” Eddie suggested. Buck groaned, “fine.” They shared one last kiss and walked back into the party. A new year, a fresh start to their relationship.
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ghostnebula · a year ago
*fills water gun w tap water and points it at you* bratty sub eddie headcanons if u dont mind (ill pay u back w some domspace richie hc if u want) 🤍
Oh Milo you know you hold the key to my wee little heart bby
Richie really loves his boy and he definitely wants to be a little too rough with him but towards the beginning of their relationship he’s not so sure about it. Like he doesn’t want to scare Eddie off or hurt him, y’know, so he kind of quiets that part of himself in favour of something more vanilla for his baby boy who he’s worried will FLIP if Richie tries to do something weird or dangerous or whatever
Unbeknownst to him, Eddie is experiencing a similar problem, but he’s also begun to realize something: if he talks back and generally acts like a little shit, Richie (subconsciously or not, it’s hard to tell) will be kinda rough with him and he fucking loves that. He wants Richie to hurt him and do gross shit and humiliate him so he wants to see how far he can push things. He’ll make snarky comments and take too long to listen when Richie tells him to do something (or outright refuse to) just to get a rise out of him. He’ll try to jerk himself off and Richie will push his hand away all “Hey, no, I want to do that. Stop being a shit.” and Eddie’s like “Well okay maybe if you would get a fucking move on I wouldn’t have to do these things myself.” 
He starts seeing cracks in Richie’s composure after the first few times Richie has to escalate from politely asking him to get on his hands and knees to flipping him over and shoving his face in the bed, mumbling about, “You make me do everything for you, Eddie, seriously -- if you want it like this so bad you gotta put in the fucking work. I’d swear you just want me to have to do shit for you.” Like, yes! Duh! But Eddie’s not gonna ask. He’s gonna cross his arms and humph and turn his nose up and refuse to listen, and he’s going to tease Richie about how he bets he can get fucked better if he just does it himself until Richie’s got a bruising grip on his hips and he’s fucking into him so hard it’s making Eddie dizzy, just to prove him wrong.
And it reaches a boiling point when Richie comes home from work to find Eddie riding a dildo on their bed. He only has one, and it’s something he very sneakily purchased when he was about 20, because it took him a while to work up the courage even though he was free from his mother’s influence and he was a full-fledged college student, all independent and everything. That was before he and Richie started dating, back when the most he could do was fantasize, and now it’s nothing compared to Richie’s dick, obviously, but he wants Richie to get jealous. 
Richie freezes in the doorway for a second, and something close to the reaction he wants (anger, jealousy, possessiveness) surfaces briefly on Richie’s face. “Thought you threw that away,” he says, closing the door behind him.
Eddie goes on fucking himself on the dildo like it’s the most normal thing in the world, hips tilted at just the right angle to get the head rubbing over his prostate, and he’s been at it just long enough he thinks he’s getting close despite the fact that he wishes it was Richie fucking him. “I didn’t,” he says, then adds, “You’re late.”
“Yeah, there was traffic. What are you doing?”
“Getting myself off, since you weren’t here to do it for me when I wanted.”
“You don’t have to be all sassy about it.” Richie’s Adam’s apple bobs while he watches Eddie rock back on the toy. “You’re such a little bitch sometimes,” he says, but it doesn’t come out as harsh as it should. It sounds like wanting and Eddie’s heart soars. “Would you stop that already? I’ll fuck you, just give me a sec.” 
Richie’s already unbuckling his belt and shimmying out of his pants, but Eddie shakes his head, lifting a hand from where he’s balancing himself on the bed to wrap it around his cock. “I’m close anyway. I told you I can fuck myself better.”
Richie slaps his hand away, and the next second Eddie’s being shoved over onto his back and the weight of Richie’s hand is pinning him by the chest as the dildo is ripped out of him. He lets out a broken gasp at the sensation, hole clenching suddenly around nothing. “You’re such a little bitch sometimes,” Richie growls again. “I know you want me to do everything for you, okay? I get it. And I want to, but you’re gonna have to be real fuckin’ nice if you’re gonna get what you want right now.”
And Eddie’s resolve finally snaps, while he watches Richie stroke himself to hardness above him and his hole clenches around nothing, and the haze of being just too fucking horny has weakened that resolve too much. “I want you to hurt me,” he demands, and all he gets is a, “Fucking good, then,” before Richie slaps him full across the face and tells him to stop being such a fucking shit about everything.
Eddie does not heed that advice. Like, ever. 
-likes wearing collars; only likes if Richie puts them on him; WILL pout and get all huffy if Richie does not remember to do that, especially before they fuck
-(Richie learns pretty fast that pretty much ANY time Eddie is pouting and bitchy, it’s because he either wants to get railed, or he wants Richie to put a collar on him, or both)
-still taunts Richie to rile him up, and it still works every time, whether Richie’s aware of the effect or not
-breaks out the dildo sometimes because he likes how nasty Richie gets when he catches him using it
-wants to wear a plug; only wants Richie to put the plug in him, will not do it himself (he just wants Richie to finger him open to prep him for it lbr, Richie’s fingers are probably Amazing)
-cockwarming?? fuck yes. Eddie wants to just sit on Richie’s dick, like, CONSTANTLY, but he NEVER asks nicely for it so rarely gets what he wants
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misfits1a · a year ago
you mad, bro?
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request: @raveenasblog Can u do evan-buckley x reader where buck transfers to texas firehouse and he and the reader are in a relationship after sometime and when reader tries to talk members 118 they are rude especially. Eddie And for buck that is too much he takes a stand for himself and reader as well .just some buck and reader fluff and some angst
warning(s): language; a friend being a jerk; some angst; unedited
other notes: alright so i wasn’t exactly sure how you wanted this so i just did my own thing. i hope you like it :)
word count: 885
originally posted: 12 april 2020
keywords: f/f (favorite fruit)
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you and buck met shortly after he’d transferred to the 126. you’d met through marjan, your best friend.
her captain, owen strand, had hosted a dinner to welcome him to the team, which she’d invited you to. she was eager to introduce you to everyone, and once she introduced you to buck . . . well, the rest was history.
you and buck hit it off right away, eventually going out on “friendly” outings, which soon turned into “are we dating, are we not?” outings, which eventually became “yes, we’re dating” outings. 
you began spending every other weekend at his apartment.
this was one of those weekends.
your six month anniversary is today, and you’d wanted to make him a special meal and dessert to celebrate this milestone.
you’re in the kitchen watching over the roast you have simmering in the crockpot along with chopped baby potatoes and cut up carrots; currently you are slicing butter to place atop the white cake mix you spread over f/f filling.
and you’re not exactly sure what buck is doing until—
“eddie!” you hear him exclaim from the living room. over the course of your relationship, you’d heard quite a bit about the members of his old team, the 118.
so of course you knew about eddie diaz, buck’s best friend. they were like brothers.
“hey, there’s someone i want you to meet,” you hear him say. “hold on. i’ll be right back.”
he appears in the kitchen, giving you a nervous smile.
“so,” he leans against the wall. “i’m talking to eddie right now. want to meet him?”
you give him a bright smile, nodding. he turns around, walking back into the living room and taking his seat in his chair. you sit on the arm next to him, craning your neck so your face is in the frame.
“eddie?” he calls out, realizing his friend isn’t around right now. all he can see is the kitchen area of the 118 firestation. “eds?”
eddie’s camera spins around the room, and comes to settle on not only eddie but the entire 118 and the wife of the captain of said fire station, athena grant. buck’s old coworkers all give bright smiles and wave at the camera, cries of “we miss you so much!” and “why did you leave?” and a single “how’s texas?” from athena.
“it can get hot,” buck answers with a small laugh. “but i like it here a lot. everyone is so nice—”
you let out a silent scoff, recalling marjan’s story of the racist and homophobic old lady who’d called 9-1-1 on her spanish neighbors for cooking underground steak.
“hey, who’s that gorgeous lady?” hen exclaims cheerily, the first to acknowledge you
a blush crosses your face and you cover your mouth to hide the growing smile.
“guys, i’d like you to meet y/n. she’s my girl.”
“hello!” everyone says to you, all smiles and bright eyes. all except eddie, who doesn’t say anything. he reaches off screen instead, bringing a water bottle into frame. he unscrews the cap, takes a sip.
“uh, hey everyone! i’ve heard so much about all of you. especially you, eddie.” you smile at the dark-haired firefighter in the center of the group.
“glad one of us has heard something,” he sneers.
“you didn’t tell him about me?” you quietly ask buck. you’d figured he’d at least tell eddie about you.
“no, he didn’t.” eddie continues, eyes narrowing. his next words are to buck. “i mean, he did tell me he found great reasons to stay in austin, but i just can’t believe you were one of them.”
your brows shoot up.
“eddie,” nash growls under his breath.
“you’re not even his type,” eddie continues. “trust me.”
“oh?” you query, crossing your arms. “and what is buck’s type?”
eddie shrugs. “not you, babe.”
“dude!” buck snaps. “what is your problem?”
eddie scoffs, rolling his eyes.
“you know what? i don’t care.” buck concedes, throwing his hands up. “everyone else, i hope to talk to you later. bye.”
buck slams the computer shut. you swear you can practically feel the steam coming from his ears. you rest a hand on his shoulder, thumb massaging into his blade.
“i’m so sorry that happened.” buck mumbles, wrapping his arms around you.
“it’s fine,” you say. “i mean, i get it. he’s jealous. i’m not going to lie, i was a little upset when my best friend got her first boyfriend.”
“he’s acting like we’re ten years old and you’re going to take me away from him forever.”
“i would never dream of it.” you softly chuckle, placing a hand on his chest. “hey, buck?”
“i love you,” you kiss his chin.
you stand up, walking into the kitchen to check on the roast, leaving him in momentary shock. you turn off the crockpot, as you notice it’s ready to eat.
“ugh, the butter’s all melted!” you groan, as you notice the little wet spots on the cake mix under the slices of butter atop the cake mix. “uh, let’s just see how it ends up. can’t be that bad.”
you grab the handle of the pan, and are about to place it in the oven before you feel buck’s strong arms wrap around you.
he kisses your cheek.
“i love you too.”
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after story notes
i suck i’m sorry this took so long honey; also I didn’t want all of them to be rude sorry so I just had Eddie be an eggplant emoji
permanent taglist
@anything-and-everything-20 @allthatgl1tters-1sgold @biqherosix @rowanthomasknapp
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© 2020 misfits1a. all rights reserved. do not repost, translate or claim my work as yours; please credit if you want to repost my work in a fic rec
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tinyarmedtrex · a year ago
Rinse Charming
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A birthday gift for @ayyyymichele​ on behalf of @whatidoisxsecret​ 
Happy Birthday!! I hope it’s amazing! <3 <3 
Read on AO3 or below 
Eddie loved his Thursday late nights at the laundromat. Things were quiet, usually just him and the gentle hum of the machines. Everything smelled fresh and clean and he could use as many washers and dryers as he wanted without feeling guilty. It was easy to bring some homework and finish it while he watched the stains tumble out of his clothes. It was a nice, quiet routine. 
Until this week. Eddie had just transferred his clothes to the dryer when the door opened. Eddie’s head snapped up to look at the new arrival. It wasn’t anyone he recognized, none of his usually laundry partners. No, this guy was new, about Eddie’s age, and soon Eddie concluded that he’d never done laundry in his life. 
When he came in he was carrying his clothes in a trash bag. Eddie watched as the man unceremoniously dumped everything into a washing machine, not bothering to separate them by type or color. Eddie’s lip curled in disgust as the guy poured at least three times the recommended detergent in. He couldn’t stop watching, it was like a slow motion car crash that he couldn’t look away from. His brain kept silently correcting everything the other man was doing wrong. 
Eddie thought he was being subtle, watching him, until the guy looked right at him and said, “Hey cutie, do you wanna take a picture? It’ll last longer.” He added an obnoxious wink at the end that made Eddie flush. 
“I’m only watching because you’re fucking it up.” Eddie snapped back.
The guy looked down at his laundry. “I put the clothes in and added detergent. Isn’t that what you do?” 
“No!” Eddie strode over and looked in the washing machine. “You overfilled it. And you used way too much detergent. And you didn’t separate out your clothes! Have you ever done this before?”
The guy shrugged, looking embarrassed. “I didn’t know you could do it wrong.” 
Eddie was already elbow deep in the clothes, pulling out the ripped jeans and denim jacket. “These need to go in a separate load.” He threw them into the new washer. “And so do-” He paused, realizing that he had grabbed a pair of hot tamale boxer shorts. 
Eddie dropped them, knowing he was brought red now. “These.” He finished lamely.
“Man at least buy me dinner first.” The guy said, grinning at him.
“Fuck you.” The retort didn’t have any heat. Eddie looked back at his pile of homework. “I have better things to do.” Eddie started to turn, utterly embarrassed by what he had just done. Just because the guy was an idiot didn’t mean Eddie needed to plunge his hands into the man’s clothes. 
“No, hey wait.” The guy called and Eddie looked back, seeing that the other man was watching him helplessly. “Can you help me? I’m clearly an idiot.” 
Eddie hesitated, looking the guy over for the first time. He had curly dark hair pulled into a bun, thick, smudged glasses and he was tall, obnoxiously so. And lanky. He reminded Eddie of laffy taffy, pulled and stretched. He was cute, Eddie realized, annoyed with himself. He was cute and Eddie had been a jerk. Pretty standard for Eddie if he was being honest with himself. 
“You aren’t an idiot.” Eddie mumbled. “You’re just- an adult who doesn’t know how to do laundry.”
The guy laughed, his head tilting back and exposing his Adam’s apple. “Not sure those two things are much different.” Then he stuck his hand out. “I’m Richie.”
Eddie put his hand in Richie’s, somehow unsurprised when Richie gave it three hearty pumps. “Eddie.”
“Well Eds what do you say? Will you help a fellow laundry-er out?”
“It’s Eddie. And yes. Only because you’re so pitiful.”
“Pity is exactly what I was going for.” Richie replied, a wide grin stretching across his face. Something about it made Eddie’s heart beat a little faster. 
He ignored it though, instead pointing to Richie’s laundry. “You need to separate out lights and darks and-” He paused on the boxers again. “Delicates.”
“Aw baby, nothing about me is delicate.” 
“The hole in the ass of those says differently.” Eddie said, pointing to a pair of boxers that had different types of dice printed on them. 
“It’s a hole of opportunity.” Richie replied, grabbing the boxers and sorting them. Eddie opted not to reply to that one, answering questions Richie had and occasionally correcting him. Richie cracked jokes the entire time. Eddie had had no idea how many laundry puns there were but Richie seemed to find and use all of them in that short span of time. It was strangely adorable, like much of Richie seemed to be. 
“There, now you can finally start.” Eddie said ten minutes later. “Use the lid of your detergent to measure.” Carefully, Richie poured detergent into the washers then, finally, put his quarters in and selected a wash cycle. Eddie had the satisfaction of watching it fill with water, knowing that Richie’s clothes would come out perfectly laundered. 
“How can I ever repay you? You’re a laundry godsend.” 
Eddie shrugged, wondering if he dared offer a date, when his dryer went off, the buzz ratcheting through the small space. 
“Do you want help folding?” Richie asked, following Eddie as he went to the dryers, pulling his warm clothes from the dryers. 
“Do you know how to fold?” Eddie asked, chuckling when Richie shook his head. “Then no.” 
As Eddie started to fold and separate his laundry Richie hopped up on the dryer, leaning towards him. “So, come here often?”
“That’s a terrible line.” Eddie muttered, ignoring how close Richie was. He smelled like bubble gum and cigarettes and Eddie knew he’d be thinking about that smell for days. 
“Not if it works.” 
Eddie glanced up, meeting Richie’s bright green eyes with his own. “Every Thursday.” 
Richie’s face broke into a delighted grin. “I love a man with a schedule.” He pulled out his phone, pushing it towards Eddie. “You should add your number, in case I have more laundry related emergencies.”
Eddie hesitated for only a second before reaching over and putting his number in. The excitement on Richie’s face gave him butterflies. 
“I’m about done.” Eddie said, putting his neatly folded laundry back into his carrying bag. He was reluctant to leave. “But I’ll be back next week?”
“It’s a date.” Richie promised. 
Eddie was barely out the door when he got a text from an unknown number. It was a picture of a red sock and underneath it said ‘I can throw this in with all my white shirts right?’ Eddie was about to turn around and stop Richie when another text came in, ‘ha ha just kidding, even I’m not that dumb. See u next week Eds’.
For the next week Eddie was on cloud nine. Richie texted him constantly throughout the week, mostly about random things. Eddie found out that Richie went to a nearby college and was living on his own for the first time, his roommate had just moved in with his boyfriend. He seemed lonely, like he’d never had to spend time alone. Eddie had lived alone since he was eighteen but had to admit he liked having someone to talk to. 
Thursdays quickly became Eddie’s favorite day of the week. He loved seeing Richie and learning more about him. And Richie seemed genuinely interested in Eddie. He found himself telling stories that he normally wouldn’t, ones about his mom and childhood. Richie never made him feel strange or awkward about it, he would just listen, occasionally taking Eddie’s hand if he got too overwhelmed. The two had an immediate connection, something that Eddie hadn’t felt in a long time. 
He forced himself to enjoy it and not overthink the situation. It had been nearly a month and Richie still hadn’t asked him out on an official date. Not that Eddie didn’t enjoy their chats on the washing machines but he wanted more, he wanted late night dinners and early morning coffee. 
Finally, after a lot of complaining to his friends, Eddie decided to take matters into his own hands. He was going to ask Richie to dinner that night. If he said no, well, at least Eddie would finally know where they stood. He changed his outfit at least three times before reminding himself that he was going to do laundry. 
To his surprise Richie was already there, his laundry already separated. “How’d I do?” Richie asked, grabbing Eddie’s bag as he walked in. Richie probably didn’t need Eddie to inspect his laundry anymore, the man had even purchased his own dryer balls, but Eddie got a small thrill every time he asked. 
“It looks good.” He said, looking over the piles. Then he noticed a small separate bag with drawstrings. “What’s in there? Dirty socks?”
“Um,” Richie hung a hand on the back of his neck. “Not quite.” He pulled the bag open, revealing an assortment of cheese and crackers and even a bottle of wine.
“I thought we could-” Richie paused. “I hope this isn't weird. I wanted to ask you out that first day but I chickened out. And now it’s been weeks and it feels weird to just ask but I still wanted to but I didn’t want to pressure you so I thought this would be cute- well my friend Bev thought it would be- and she’s usually right about this stuff. Unless she’s not? Fuck I don’t know. Did I make it weird, I made it weird didn’t I?”
“Richie!” Eddie stepped forward, taking Richie’s hands and interrupting his ramble. “You didn’t make it weird. I was going to ask you out tonight.” 
“Yea?” Eddie nodded and Richie exhaled, looking relieved. “Well you still should. I’m not sure this actually counts as a date.”
“It does.” Eddie promised, looking back at the spread. Richie had brought all of his favorites and he even saw hand wipes stuffed in the back. It was one of the sweetest things anyone had ever done for him.  “It really does.” 
@wheezyeds  @constantreaderfool  @jem-carstairs-is-perfection  @moonlightrichie @lifesucksheres20bucks @thorn-harvester-ven @eddiefuckinkaspbrak @andaleduardo @xandertheundead @s-s-georgie @s-onora @spirited-marvel  @roobarrtrashmouth @njess04 @gczebos @kasp-brakz @sourmoist @playing-jim @princesass-theresa @theandrewhurley @mimiharu @kaspbrak-tozier-reddie​ @no-she-wasnt-reddie​  @oldguybones​ @sloppybitxch   @lumiereandcogsworth​ @sedanleystanley​ @kaspbrak-king​ @ticomat​ @hadererer​ @da-damned​ @purplepoisonedgem @sparklingrainbowdragon @richietoaster​ @sxndythinkstoomuch​ @overcastedhills​
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dcountess · a year ago
Buck and Bobby got him to the ambulance quickly, Chim waiting ready while Hen finished taking the gear off Eddie, it was all a blur of movement for Buck, everyone moving too fast or maybe he was to slow, but all his attention was on Eddie, everyone else on the background of his mind ‘he almost lost him’
Bobby’s hand on his shoulder brought him back “you ok kid?"
“I- I, yeah, yes, all fine, im not the one who almost drown on mud” he was trying very hard to smile “i swear, im ok Bobby”
A faint voice reach them from the ambulance “what?- whats wrong with buck?” Eddie is trying to get up but Chim stop him with a hand “nothing is wrong with him, stay put or I will strap you to the gurney”
“come on Buck, we will see if the drill crew need help” Bobby tug his arm, he goes silently but looking behind every other step, he didn’t want to loss sight of Eddie again, the news people was all around the house of the boy, in the disaster area was only the excavation crew, and another firefighters from other station who arrived after the fall of the drill “watch it” bobby stoped him before he stepped over a puddle where, where the pipe was supposed to have been, where the boy had been trapped, there wast just water “its all full of water now”
And that was it, that frase brought Buck to his knees, Bobby following to the ground “whats going on Buck?” Bobby hold his arms because Buck was shaking so much “i almost lost him, he-he would have drown, down there, alone”  gasped Buck “Bobby I couldn’t do anything” he was full on crying now again just like when the hole got filled with mud and rocks
“breath with me Buck, 1, 2, 3” he coached him “Eddie is alright, he is with Chim and Hen, come on breath” he cupped Buck face with his hands “look at me son, we have him back, is ok, he is ok, you are ok, we all are going to go home in a moment we just need to finish here and we are out”
“Capt Nash?” Interrupted a woman in firefighter suit “im Capt Avery with the 338, you can get your boys home, we will finish the work” she smiled at the two of theme
“you hear that Buck, we are going home now, come on, I got you” he put Buck arm around his shoulders and helped him back to the trucks
“i need to call Carla, she has to know that she has to stay with Chris for the night” he took his phone out but Bobby stoped him
“she knows Buck, you called her before, remember?”
“Cap!, can you bring Buck back? Eddie is being insufferable” Hen called from the back of the ambulance “hey Buckaroo, u ok?” She asked after seeing him
“Buck!?” Eddie’s voice called stronger than before
“he had a little panic attack, I think is best if we get them together”answered Bobby helping Buck climb to the ambulance
“please, before I give up on this one!” Smiled Chim
“hey” Buck voice was too little that Eddie had trouble hearing him, and tears burst again from the blue eyes
“come here, come here” Eddie opened his arms and Buck fell on them, hugging him wile shaking and crying “its ok Buck, im here” “no llores, todo está bien”
“im going to give you two a moment” said Chim closing the doors after him
“i thought-“ “im sorry, im sorry, you are hurt and freezing and im here crying” he tried to put space between them but was squeezed harder
“don´t go, I kind of need you here right now” he muttered under his breath “down there- I- I was thinking about Chris, about all the choices I made in my life… and you, I was thinking of you, with me, about how I need you in my life, in Chris life too”
“i love you guys” talked buck hiding his face on Eddie's neck
“i love you too, we love you too” said Eddie moving his face to search for Buck eyes
“we have to go!” Screamed Hen from outside and both male chuckled “i hope you are decent!” She opened the doors “come on Buck you have to give me some space to treat our patient here”
“all yours” he smiled a little more relaxed, and a lot more red int he face “im going with cap” he got up “i see you in the hospital” he jumped off the ambulance
“come on you guys lets go!” Called bobby closing the doors smiling at Buck “feel better?”
“yeah, thanks cap”
“you have nothing to thank me for Buck, I think you just won me a bet” smiled Bobby while walking to the firetruck, Buck sputtered before running after him
“what are you talking about!?” “what bet?”.
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dark-mei-rose · a year ago
here is my commentary for crazy rich asians that no one asked for! :D
crazy rich asians (2018)
my text commentary (obviously there will be spoilers)
(yeah I for some reason never watched this when it came out. all I know is that people thought it was really good)
wow china music already. cool
there’s years? oh okay
i hate the hotel person already
cool love racism in the first 2 minutes
oh go fuck yourself hotel person
omg the complaining in the phone booth. that’s just my mom
I thought the gambling was weird
is her voice like really high pitched?
that louis vuitton phone case is already so outdated
lol the texting is cute
“lah” is a very singapore thing
eh I don’t care for religion in china. it’s a european thing. you know. when they took over. like with everything else.
…yeah I feel weird wearing red. it’s such a traditional colour
why isn’t she more like. why are we in first class lol
what… does nick do? exactly?
god. i fucks with kitty
astrid is too nice, something is horribly wrong with her
god i’m so hungry
something is up with astrid
astrid’s husband is giving me weird vibes
nah nah nah he’s cheating on her or something
oh he’s poor. (well in comparison I guess)
so he’s stupid and dumb
ugh the table manners at the best friends house lol
“I DON’T WANNA IMPOSE YEAH I’LL FUCKIN COME” you have to say no at least twice lol
i love the best friend
I hate eddie
oh we have one of those plants. I’ve only seen it bloom like maybe 4 times in my entire life. It is really cool
i do not understand mandarin but it’s nice to hear
wtf guy talk. go fuck yourself
I wouldn’t mind going on a tropical trip again at some point
that tassel necklace is the worst
Is that uhh hermes? also I was expecting him to have a ring too but why bring it to the party?
oh ew, they used to date. nick and girl
yeah I figured he was going to leave the family maybe
who tf is elenor again? the mom? yes
awwww this makes me sad
oh astrid looks very different when she’s dressed down I barely recognized her
yeah it’s true. he should have told her
i really should learn how to make dumplings from my mom
the subtitles don’t really match the chinese somettimes but that’s okay
oh the ring is beautiful holy shit
you can chase your passion and still have family
the grandma is nice but kind of scary
time to explore house for some reason
oh the grandma and mom are not related okay. I was wondering why there was tension
god this is traumatizing
i’m a banana tbh
M A K E O V E R   T I M E
is that one hand dress like gucci
wtf cover is this song
is the pink flower dress from rodarte?
i can never remember that guys name the HAAA GAAAAY actor (it’s Ken Jeong. Did you know he’s actually a real doctor?)
ohh that’s a nice dress holy fuck (rachel’s dress)
cheating husband’s first hint is missing the daughters birthday or son. sorry lol
cheating husband IS GASLIGHTING YOU
god michelle yeoh is beautiful
who’s the yellow dress lady
what the hell are those orange boutonnieres
oh first english song. I love (can’t help falling in love you) it always sounds good
oh god the water is so extra i love it so much actually
oh god i’m crying
I’m crying
I’m crying
i can’t
i love weddings
… wait are they like knee deep in water lol
is this the same song from earlier??? I swear it is. like they played it when they were eating food from the street trucks (too lazy to check if it is)
i do love a man in a good suit (I had an ex that used to work at a suit store and I wanted to jump him constantly)
that one lady had a very vietnamese accent it was weird (after all the chinese accents)
you forget to cherish her ;___;
awwww did she really walk all the way to her friends house?
that is not sunrise light. that’s sunset light. oh maybe it was supposed to be sunset
awwww the kids are cute “this is your dinner.”
aw I’m sad
…does she say yes??
MAHHJOONNNGGGGGG god I can still hear the clacking sounds of the pieces when my grandma used to play from when I was a kid
oh. this is foreshadowing maybe
yeah they’re gonna fite for your rite. to paaaRRTAYYYYYY
i actually don’t know how to play mahjong
yeah chinese people can still be racist towards other chinese people 100%
I wish I understood what the tiles meant. because what she’s doing clearly has meaning.
did she beat her. i can’t tell lol
i hope they still get married but now my hopes are low
oh i bet. I bet. he’s gonna be in new york for her.
are they gonna meet at the airport actually?
is he fucking proposing again on the plane
okay I paused the movie for about 10 minutes just to cry. and just. the parental approval. is so hard for asians to deal with. you never feel like you’re good enough and then when you get it. it’s like f u c k- ? i feel good now
oh my god
oh my god
awww this party is cute
“MAKE BABY” MAKE BABY” am I kitty? lol
that was an experience
oh wait mid credit scene
oh that’s it? k cool fuck astrid’s ex husband though. he’s still trash
10/10 healed my asian childhood feelings of being a failure.and I am now healed and I know that I’m not a failure and that everything will be fine in the end
pretty excellent in all parts
cinematography could have been a SLIGHT bit more interesting, but I’m willing to excuse it due to the overall light heartedness of the film.
10/10 someone propose to me with that emerald ring holy fuck
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pineapplecrushface · a year ago
Do u think the losers ever skinny dipped when they were teenagers? Poor richie! But also yay for richie!
Okay, YES. Yes they absolutely decide when they're like 15 that the tighty whiteys have to go and skinny dipping is the thing, and Richie is the one who suggests it as a joke and then his life flashes before his eyes when Eddie shrugs and is like "Okay." And thankfully he's too afraid to get a boner, but when they're in the water it's a totally different story. He spends the entire time they're swimming coming up with joking reasons why he might have a boner, and he hardly talks at all and everyone thinks it's weird except Eddie, who doesn't notice because he's busy being unusually quiet too. And later that evening Eddie stays at Richie's house for dinner and they're both still really quiet, and they both just kind of gravitate toward each other while they're watching a movie and Richie rests his head on Eddie's leg while Eddie pets his hair. Richie wants to say something about it because it seems like swimming naked together was significant to Eddie too, but then he would have to admit there's something different - between them, between them and the other boys, between them and anybody else who can just carelessly take off their clothes in front of their friends and have it mean nothing. So they don't ask each other any questions but it's kind of nice anyway to be together on a summer night, knowing something is happening but not needing to give it a shape by saying it out loud. There's a pleasant ache that comes with loving someone who you think might love you too when neither of you can admit it. Richie knows that every single action is charged with electricity. Eddie's fingers in his hair might as well be writing a story just for him. The story says I dream about touching you and it hurts but it feels so good, and it's only for the two of us to stretch out this thing between us until it snaps. It will snap eventually, he thinks. Someday.
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mk-tozier · a year ago
Losers are 15 here, Bev came back from her aunts because i can, x reader
warnings: swear words, a bit heated and just Richie being richie, sorta fluff? plot twist, kinda short because I’m just trying to get out some writing. ok peace
Here I was sitting in Bill’s room, carelessly staring at him, I have a huuuge crush on Bill. He’s adorable, he has a great personality and he’s just so ughhhh 😍. I sat up from Bills bed, sitting criss cross apple sauce. “So Bill?” I look down at my legs. “Yes Y/n/n” Bill says almost immediately, my name flowing with the sweetness of his voice. Something about hearing him say my name makes me flustered.
“I was wondering, do you u-um like anyone?” I ask looking up at him. Bill looks off to the distance for a second. “I don’t know, maybe.” He shrugs a bit. “D-Do Y-you?” “Yea, he’s the most amazing boy I know.” I smile slightly. Bill smiles at my comment. “W-well who is the m-m-mystery boy?” He asks beaming happily. This is it. I’m going to admit my feelings to him. Little do I know, I wouldn’t be the only one who would decide to do this. Before I could say anything the doorbell rang, echoing through the whole house. “I-I’ll get it, but y-you’re telling me a-afterwards.” Bill giggled and winked, swarming my stomach with butterflies once again.
Bill went downstairs and I waited patiently, sitting on his bed, smiling and thinking. After 5 minutes I realized he was taking awhile. I got up from the bed and began walking down the hallway and down the stairs. I stop at the bottom of the stairs. “Hey Bill! What’s up it’s been taking awhi-“ I cut myself off seeing Bill and Beverly, lips locked, pull away. “O-oh.” I say lowly. “S-s-sorry, I didn’t mean to d-ditch you, this k-kinda just h-h-happened.” He blushed madly. Tears swell up in my eyes, I feel a lump in my throat. “N-no it’s fine Bill, I h-have to meet up with Richie at the arcade a-anyways” My voice cracks a bit. “A-are you o-okay?” Bill asks. “Yeah, you seem a bit upset Y/n/n?” Bev says worry In her eyes. “No, I’m fine, I really have to get going though, wouldnt wanna be late or Richie might kick my ass” I joke, faking a smile, running up the stairs, into bills room.
Of course he likes her, I don’t hate Bev, its the exact opposite. She’s sweet and funny, she’s soo beautiful, just the dream girl, perfect for any guy, I don’t exactly hate myself, but I’m obviously not enough for Bill. I grab my back quickly, wiping my cheeks and swallowing the lump in my throat. I go downstairs. “Bye guys” I say quickly before walking out the door, not even waiting for their goodbyes.
Time skip
“Tozier!” I exclaim, hugging him from behind. “Your day just got a thousand times better!” I giggled, trying to get the thought of Bill Denbrough out of my head. Richie turned around and faced me, looking down and grinning. “You bet it fucking did sweetheart.” I hugged him again, tightly, smiling into his chest. “I missed you Rich” I say. “I missed you too sweet cheeks.” He chuckled slightly. My smile died down as I pulled away from the hug. “You okay there y/n/n?” Richie bites his cheek slightly. When he says my nickname, its different from Bill, my name flows with the sweetness of his voice, meanwhile with Richie, My name just fits with his raspy voice, like a puzzle piece. “Y-yea I’m fine!” I fake a smile. “Don’t lie to me, I’ll beat your ass if you don’t tell me” Richie looks at me sternly. “F-fine.” My voice lowers.
“Bill” is all I can let out before I get the same lump in my throat. “Did he hurt you, I’ll beat him up, wh-what’d he do to you?” Richie’s eyes fill with worry. “No, not that. He, he kissed Beverly” I say lowly. He frowns looking into my eyes. “Your amazing doll and if he can’t see that, he’s fucking blind, Blinder than me. I need glasses and i can tell you’re beautiful Don’t be sad over a dumbass like him, I’d pick you over any girl any day.” Richie hugs me. “Thanks Rich.” I sigh slightly. “I just wish it were him who would pick me over any girl, you’re  my best friend, that’s different, obviously you would pick me.” Richie sighs lowly, biting his lip slightly, he looked hot with his lip tugged between his teeth,concentrated- ohfuckno, I did NOT just call Richie Tozier HOT. Okay maybe I’d be an idiot if I didn’t realize my best friend was cute, not only cute tremendously hot but I don’t like him, I’m just smart enough to know he’s got good looks. Richie put his hand under my chin, making me look up at him. “Then let’s make him jealous, show him what he’s missing, sound good doll?” He smirks, licking his lips slightly. I smile up at Richie. “Sounds great Rich, but how.” “Okay so you get a makeover right? Look like a whole art piece, not like you don’t already” Richie winks at me before continuing. “And follow my lead.” I nod and smile at him.
Time skip to a couple days later.
I rode my bike next to Richies. “are you sure this is gonna work?” i ask him. “Of course its gonna work, and if it doesn’t then its still a win, we get to pretend to date. I get to act like I’m with the most beautiful girl in the world and you get to act like your with me, the hottest and funniest guy ever.” Richie smirks. “yeah yeah” i roll my eyes, smiling. We pulled over by the quarry, about 2 feet away from everyone else. I got off my bike, laying it down next to a rock. “its way too hot out today, if we go in the water, there’s about 20 diseases we can get but if we stay in the sun, we could get heat strokes” Eddie rambles. “It’s hot out because of me and Y/n!” Richie exclaims. I roll my eyes again, this kid is something else. “shut up Richie” Stan groans. “Eddie we’ve been in the quarry billions of times and every time we come put fine, why are you still worried” i say, reassuringly. “you never know” He replies. “hes just making up excuses because hes too afraid to jump” Richie smirks. “whatever” Eddie says, going back to doing whatever. I look over to see Bill sitting on a rock, staring at me and Richie, i give him a small wave before turning around so i can undress, my swimsuit under my clothes. I watch Richie take off his shirt, his skin pale but slightly toned, he has slight abs which is confusing since the kid almost never works out. I eagerly take off my shirt and shorts/skirt, I feel eyes on me, i look over, seeing Richie looking me up and down. “eyes to yourself Tozier” I giggle. “Hey! I’m just admiring the beauty! Cant a guy look at his girlfriend!” Rich snaps. “girlfriend!?!” Everyone mutters from behind us, shocked. He winks at me. “called it!” Bev says. “its about time you two got together, the sexual tension is unbelievable” Sexual Tension? But there’s nothing between me and Rich, what is she talking about? This whole thing is fake. “Yeah seriously, I’m surprised you guys havent fucked by now” Stan says. What the hell are they talking about? But I’ve always liked Bill. Yeah, Me and Rich flirt all the time but there’s no feelings involved, right? I feel my cheeks burning, not from the sun either. Richie smirks, staring at me. “Who says we havent” He shrugs, the smirk staying on his face, as if it were glued there. “RICH!” I squeaked, my cheeks burning even more. “forget i ever said anything” Stanley gagged. “DO YOU GUYS NOT KNOW THE AMOUNT OF DISEASES-“ “yes we know, we know, and Richie is only joking” i roll my eyes. “Bill, you okay?” Ben asks. Rich winks and elbows me softly. “y-yea I’m fine” he replies. “you sure? You’ve been awfully quiet” Ben asks again. Richie nudges me again. I don’t wanna make Bill jealous anymore, what if this whole time, i only told myself that i like Bill to cover up the fact that i like Richie? No I’m just being stupid now, I’ve never liked Richie. Hes just my best friend and hes just helping me out, thats all. “i-I’m okay, l-l-lets just swim!” He says, smiling slightly.
Time skip
The whole time, me and Rich splashed each other and messed around, flirting a lot too. Richie dunked me under the water before pulling me back up, grabbing my waist, our bodies touching, our faces inches apart, his lower body brushed against my leg,holy shit,rich was hard. My face heated up, why is he hard, he doesn’t even like me.Just breathe, its probably just a teenage boy thing. His thumb rubbed circles on my bare waist, our faces inched closer,only about 2 inches away from eachother now, i felt his warm breath against my lips. This can’t be happening, worst part is I’m not stopping it. “RICH! Y/N! C’MON WE’RE GETTING OUT! WE’RE GONNA GET ICECREAM” One of the losers yelled. Me and Richie pulled away, both of us blushing, Richie blinked before swimming away. My face heated up thinking about what happened in the Quarry. Why’d I allow us to get that close. “H-hey Y-Y/n can i t-t-talk to you for a s-s-sec?” Bill asks. I look over at Richie, who sends me a smile. His eyes look sad, why would he be sad? This was his plan afterall.
I followed Bill into a small opening away from the losers. “I-i know I’m k-k-kinda later but i l-like you. It’s o-okay if y-y-you dont like me. i-i k-kn-know your with richie.” Bill admits. “actually I’m not with Richie, it was to make you jealous because i liked you but what about Beverly, I wouldn’t want you to lead her on, she obviously likes you” i say. “y-yeah i kn-know. the k-kiss happened o-o-out of nowhere. i t-t-told her I wasn’t s-sure of m-m-my feelings” He says. “w-wait...l-liked?” “yeah...i- i think i like Richie.” i say softly. “o-oh. okay..” Bill says. “he d-d-definitely likes you b-back. You sh-sh-should shoot your shot” i smile. “thanks Bill” “o-of c-course! G-g-good luck!” he says
I walk back over to Rich, who was trying to put on his shirt but was failing miserably, i giggled. He finally got on his shirt. “Jesus this damn thing hates me or something” He mutters, causing me to giggle again. “oh hey! sooo how’d it go with Bill” Richie smirks. “um...i actually rejected him” I say. Richies eyebrows furrowed, he frowned, but i could tell he was trying not to smirk. “why? i thought you liked him?” he asks. “Beverly likes him, it wouldnt be fair to her. aaaand I’m pretty sure i like someone else.” i say. “oOoOoO and who might that be” Richie smirks. I put my hands on his shirt, pulling him closer to me, connecting my lips with Richies. This was a Kiss waiting to happen, Richies eyes went wide but they soon relaxed as he put his hands on my waist, kissing me back. I pull away, out of breath. “does that tell you who i like?” i ask. “nah, i think you’re gonna have to try again.” Richie smirks. I roll my eyes smiling before connecting our lips once again. This kiss was much more rough and passionate, our lips glided against eachother, smoothly as if our lips were made for eachother, like puzzle pieces connecting. His tongue glided against my bottom lip, asking for entrance, i part my mouth slightly, Richie entering his tongue right away, exploring my mouth. The kiss got more heated and rough, both of us out of breathe but not wanting to pull away. “THATS DISGUSTING” Eddie yells. “hey lovebirds we’re gonna get icecream” Beverly chuckles. I pull away from Richie, panting. “we’ll catch up, i still have to put on my clothes” i say. The losers start to get on there bikes and talk amongst themselves. I grab my shirt and short/skirt putting it on quickly. “sucks those have to go back on” Richie winks. “RICH!” i squeak. “whaaat? I’m only telling the truth, I’d rather watch you in your swimsuit” he replies. I roll my eyes. “so...Wanna be my girlfriend?” Richie asks. “no because i just made out with you for no reason. Of course i wanna be your girlfriend Rich” i reply, he rolls his eyes smiling. “Now lets go before the losers forget about us!” i say hopping on my bike.
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intoanothermind · a year ago
Beauty Queen - Chapter 4
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B E A U T Y  Q U E E N
Synopsis: You are the Ice Princess of Narnia during the Long Winter. Your sister Jadis, the White Witch, hates that you’re always helping Narnians escape prision. She decides to hunt you down and you have to run away from the palace. What happens when you find the four humans lost in Narnia?
- Edmund Pevensie x reader
<Chapter 3 | Chapter 5>
C H A P T E R  F O U R
“Come on” said the beaver, rushing them. “It’s not a good idea to be here after dark.”
They crossed a large stone wall and, far below, in a valley, saw a very large beaver dam, with orange lights streaming through the small windows.
“Ah, how wonderful!” said the beaver. “It seems that my wife has already heated the water for an cup of tea.”
“How cute” said Lucy.
“A modest dike. There is much to do, I am not yet finished. It's going to be a rough job.”
He starts or moves down the valley cautiously so as not to run in the snow. But Edmund held Y/N's wrist.
“Are you sure he is trustworthy?” he asked, afraid.
Y/N, however, was almost irritated by this. And when had he talked to the Witch and agreed to take his siblings to her? He had trusted her for a handful of Turkish delight and a false throne.
“I think you need to review your priorities, Son of Adam.” she said dryly, going back down to the dike.
There it was. Again. The same tone of voice, the same striking intonation. Y/N seemed, at that moment, so much like the Witch, so different in that moment of weakness in the cave of Tumnus. Edmund had even shivered when he found himself comparing the two.
“Beaver, are you?” asked one beaver, walking out the door dike. “I was worried. If you know you went out with the badger again...”
She interrupted herself when she saw Mr. Beaver accompanied by four more humans and the witch.
“Ah, not the badgers.” she said excitedly. “I never thought I would live to see this scene. Look at my fur!” she said to the beaver. “You could have told me to get ready.”
“I would let you know a week in advance if I knew.” said the beaver, making everyone laugh.
“You can come in.” said the Mrs. Beaver. “Let's see if we can get any food...” She turned to Mr. Beaver. “And a civilized company.”
“Watch out. Look where you step.” said Mr. Beaver, entering and being followed by others.
“Sorry about the mess.” said Mrs. Beaver. “I couldn’t get the beaver out of his chair.”
Edmund stopped for a second, looking at the hills where the castle of the White Witch was. Y/N, who was waiting for everyone to join, noticed Edmund's hesitation.
“Better not do that.” she warned, and he was startled to see who had caught him.
“What?” he asked, really confused.
“You know what I'm talking about.” she said, but in the dry and cold way that she had spoken to him before. Y/N was just... disappointed? “Come on , let's go in.”
Edmund nodded, agreeing, and they entered. Edmund sat on the stairs, away from the others and, for some reason unknown to him, Y/N sat beside him, even though there were empty seats at the table. Y/N, however, had sat there for a single reason. Just a single attempt she would try when he made up his mind. But she knew it was inevitable. It was already written by fate. And fate is never wrong.
The others were sitting at the table while Susan helped Mrs. Beaver fill all the teacups.
“Is there nothing to do to help Tumnus?” asked Peter.
“He was taken to the Witch's house and you know what they say.” said Mr. Beaver. “Few are the ones that pass by the gate” he turned his gaze to Lucy “ and back from there.”
“Fish and chips?” asked Mrs. Beaver, trying to improve the tense atmosphere.
“But there is hope, dear.” said Mr. Beaver, putting a hand on Lucy’s shoulder in support. “Hope.”
Mr. Castor choked on the tea he was drinking.
“Ah yes.” he said. “Much more than hope.” he lowered his voice, making suspense. “Aslan is on his way.”
Everyone looked at him, understanding nothing. Y/N knew, she knew everything, but she didn't think it was appropriate for her to speak. Edmund then, without getting up, asked.
“Who is Aslan?”
The beavers started to laugh.
“Who is Aslan?” mocked Mr. Beaver. “He's very funny.”
He continued to laugh, but stopped when he was elbowed by his wife.
“What is it?” He asked her. She then indicated the kids, who were still looking at us confused. “You don’t know, do you?”
“Well...” said Peter. “We've not been here for very long.”
“He's just the Lord of the Woods.” said the beaver. “The real King of Narnia.”
Edmund, without saying anything else, stood up, but felt his wrist being pulled. As he lowered his gaze, he found Y/N's blue eyes.
“Think about it, Eddie.” she whispered, just for him to hear. “It's not worth it.”
Edmund didn’t answer her, much less look at the blue of her eyes again. He thought that if he did, he would no longer be able to do what he intended. He was about to leave when Y/N tightened her grip. When Edmund turned his attention to the girl, she took something out of the folds of her dress. A small piece of glass, which reflected like ice. She placed it on the brunette's palm, and closed his fingers on the glass, as if to say it was a really important object. And it was.
Edmund looked at her confused, but she just smiled sadly. “Take it with you, it's important.”
He nodded, and put the piece of glass on his robes and went out into the cold of the snow. And as much as Y/N felt disappointed, she knew it was already written. Fate wasn’t always something that could be shaped. In this case, for example. A prophecy, long written, stated about a betrayal. It wasn’t something that even she, the Ice Princess, could change.
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joshie-the-jinxed · 7 months ago
Bearable | A Reddie Fanfiction
Read it from the beginning
Chapter 5
Weak, cold, autumn light seeped in through drawn curtains, accompanied by the sporadic brrrrrringing of an alarm. The sound split the morning silence, tearing Eddie from his sleep, echoing through the entirety of the house more effectively than it was meant to. Eddie let out a groan, trying to reach out a hand and silence the mechanic screaming but just not being able to reach it- frustration sparked inside of his stomach for just a quick moment, and then someone else's hand came down onto the machine, cutting it off mid-ring.
"You set your alarm late," It was Stan, and, not really a surprise, he was already entirely prepared for the day, "Hurry and get up. I'll go make sure Bill is awake. Water is boiled on the stove and I made eggs, too." Stanley was dressed in a pair of bluejeans, as well as a knitted blue sweater he'd loved and worn for the last three years. His hair was styled into it's chaotic, curly perfection, swept gently to one side- he was smiling, a morning person, bright and ready for the day even though it was hardly 7:00 am. Eddie envied that constant 'ready-to-go' attitude Stan faced each new day with, when he- Eddie- had to will himself out of bed every time he opened his eyes.
"Thanks," He mumbled as Stan left the room, sitting up with a sigh and scrubbing his hands over his face to shake the sleep away. Eddie's jaws stretched wide in a yawn, and then he forced himself to abandon the comfortable warmth of his bed and crawl from under the covers. The air around him had a biting chill, the remaining after-effect of the rain that had been coming every now and again since Saturday, sending goosebumps breaking out over Eddie's skin as he made his way to his drawers, pulling open the topmost one to dig out a shirt. Settling on something simple enough, he pulled out a dark grey long-sleeved tee reading 'Back Pages' in bold white lettering and then 'Used Books and More' right underneath, in smaller print- Back Pages had been an- obviously- used bookstore from back in Derry, one of the only places his mother was actually moderately okay with him visiting. Along with the shirt Eddie pulled out brown pants and some miscellaneous belt, throwing the outfit together and running a comb quickly through his hair to tame the unruly bedhead.
"E-Eddie?" Bill's voice came from outside his door, probably in the kitchen, still thick with sleep, "Do you wuh-want tea? Coffee?" Eddie continued around his room, stumbling through the semi-darkness, shouting back his reply,
"Do you know where my chamomile is? Do we have honey?" Eddie grabbed his phone, head tilted towards the door as he waited for Bill's reply- at last, he heard something akin to an 'okay', but more of a grumble than that. With one last glance in the mirror and a silent 'you can do this, Eddie' that was meant to pep him up, he jammed his phone into his pocket and swiped his backpack from where it had been set by the vanity. Grabbing the doorknob and pulling the door right open, Eddie stepped out and hurried across the hall to the kitchen. "My tea?" He asked right away, his gaze darting between Stan, and then Bill, both seated at the small dining table in the far corner- a tall, open window sat behind them- the sky outside was dull and grey with the promise of yet more rain.
"Yeah," Stan nodded, motioning towards the counter right to Eddie's left, "It's poured and ready. Come eat, and hurry- I don't want to be late."
"We won't be late, Stan, w-we've got over an hour." Bill patted Stan's back as he reassured him, partially amused by the constant anxiety and worrying Stan never seemed to stop with- though, of course, that anxiety was pointed towards more realistic things, when Eddie's own anxiety was, in his opinion, stupid and trivial and downright annoying. Eddie poured honey into his chamomile tea, sliding the rest of the scrambled eggs onto a plate, and then took a seat at the table. "Wuh-what classes do you guys have? I have English all d-day. Lit-literature and then luh-languages."
"Biology first, and then Mathematics." Eddie's eyes brightened at Stan's words.
"I have math second, too! Thank fuck- I suck at that stuff," Just as Eddie was about to continue, saying something regarding Stan and Bill's natural ability to do almost anything right, his phone beeped in his pocket and he remembered that he hadn't turned it on a single time since last night. He was quick to pull it from it's place, looking at his newest message- his brows screwed together, and he caught the skin of his cheek between his teeth, racking his brain to see if he recognized the unknown number that had texted him.
"What's wrong with you? Are the eggs bad?" Stan tilted his head, leaning in his chair to try and glance over Eddie's shoulder to catch sight of the screen of his Nokia. Eddie held it just out of sight.
"Do either of you know this number?" Rapidly, Eddie read it out, and it didn't ring any bells in either other boys brain. Bill shrugged, Stan lost interest- they both returned to their breakfast as Eddie read over the message once more. All it said was,
What ur schedule look like, penne?
It didn't make any sense. Eddie texted back and then put the phone down on the table to dig into his own food.
Who is this?
The eggs were great, as usual- Stan was one hell of a cook even though he'd only ever learned from his own personal trial and error. A light conversation was picked up again, the first topic being that of the rain. Eddie barked out a few complaints about the grey weather, how he was afraid to catch a cold and wished he had a thicker jacket and maybe rain boots, or a car, actually, yes that would be ideal. Bill said he liked the rain, Stan said he was indifferent but was enjoying the weather for what it was. Through bites of food and sips of early-morning tea, the three finished up their eggs and tossed the dishes into the sink, ready to go any minute now. Before Eddie could slip into his shoes his phone beeped again and he was quick to swipe it up and look at the response.
Come on conchiglie! U rlly dont rmmber me?
Eddie scoffed, his brows knitting together once more. Through his sleep-haze he couldn't think of a single person he knew that he didn't already have in his contacts- at least, no one that would care about his schedule. He had a few aunts and uncles that he hardly saw but they wouldn't be messaging him now of all times, he didn't think. And what the fuck was 'conchiglie'? Eddie was clueless- Big Bill, one shoe on and the other in his hands, pulled up at Eddie's side in a silent request to be shown what was so odd. Without complaint other than a sigh, Eddie shifted the phone over, and Bill scanned the texts before letting out a bark of laughter and sharing an amused glance with Stan that seemed to communicate everything.
"Oh?" Stan said with a cheeky grin, realization donning itself on his face, pressing in on Eddie's other side to read the messages for himself, "He finally texted?"
"What?" Eddie tried to ask, but he was ignored as Bill said,
"What's with the pasta names?" Eddie was way more confused now. Again, he repeated his 'what?' and again he was ignored, "Penne? Conchiglie? I don't g-get it. What an i-idiot." Oh- just like that it clicked together and Eddie's jaw dropped open. Penne, conchiglie- pasta... spaghetti... Eddie Spaghettie- Eds- Eddie- Richie.
"No, no no no no- Which one of you gave him my fucking number? What the hell?" Eddie jammed his phone into his pocket, rounding on Bill and taking in the expression on his face- it was amused, sure, but Eddie could already read the tiniest lines of innocence forming in his features. The way Bill's gaze flickered for a tenth of a second towards Stan told Eddie everything that he needed to know. "Stanley Uris what did you do?" Eddie spun to Stan, hands on his hips, glowering upwards at the much, much taller boy. Despite forcing every ounce of intimidation into his words as he could, Stan was grinning from ear to ear, sinister and ultimately unthreatened- his eyes were bright as stars and gleaming with mischief. "You know I hate that guy! He's- He's- He's so annoying! He's loud and he's rude and he's- I can't believe you!"
"Edward," Stan said in an even, polished tone, redirecting his gaze to slip on his shoes, "One of these days in the near future you'll be thanking me for getting you out in the world," Bill let out a snicker, and Eddie jammed his elbow into his ribs, silencing him effectively, "You need friends who aren't just me and Bill. Richie, Ben, Beverly, Mike- they're nice people, and you need to get out of that shell of yours."
"Oh, you're on to talk!" Eddie crossed his arms, and then uncrossed them just after to put on his shoes in a huff, "You're ten billion times more shy than I am, Stanley. I'm just fine with only you two as my friends, I don't need other people- I mean, I went 19 years of my life with no one but you two! I survived Henry fucking Bowers with just you guys to keep me safe! I don't need other people in my life." Now, Bill was cutting in and the tension in the hallway to the front door spiked upwards. Eddie realized now that the entire topic of conversation was about to change for the worse- shit, he'd let his mouth run, and now he was going to be pitied. Eddie hated pity. It made him ill.
"E-Eds, you cu-can't go your entire life with o-only me and Stan. I mean," Bill chuckled, his eyebrows slanted sympathetically, "I know we're g-great and all, but your muh-mother has kept you from having healthy social t-ties for your whole life. It's healthy to have more than o-one or two friends." The mention of his mother sent a tidal wave of homesickness propelling right over Eddie's head- a bitter, frightening, nasty homesickness- and suddenly he felt like curling up underneath his covers and crying his eyes out, but he wouldn't. He balled his hands into fists, gritted his teeth together, and turned to the door. His bag was slung over his shoulder.
"Let's go." Eddie kept his head low and pulled the door open, pushing out into the hallway and going straight for the elevator without another word. Bill didn't want to let the topic drop just yet, but a nudge and a shake of the head from Stan was enough to get him to do just that- the shake of Stan's head said let him have this one, Big Bill. It's his first day of school. Give him a break. And so, the conversation was over, to hopefully be picked up again at a later date.
Richie, earbuds in, King of Rock 'N' Roll playing at full volume, burst in a flurry from his music classroom and made a beeline for the stairwell at the end of the hall. Like some agile snake or cat, he dodged and weaved between other students as they poured from their own respective classes, determined to break out into the sunlight and share his contentedness with his friends.
"Tozier! Don't run in the halls!" Some teacher scolded him, but as Prefab Sprout continued jabbing away at his eardrums he didn't hear it- and he didn't really care to hear it either- he was too busy riding the high that the schools new set of drums had given him. Ever since Richie grew so involved with the rock genre and everything alike, he had wanted to learn to play the drums but had never been given the chance until today. Now, Mr. Carr had basically had to chase Richie from the class with a broom like he was some sort of radical street rat. With his big, goofy grin Richie sent himself flying down the stairs, taking them three at a time and not even wincing at the way his knees protested with every heavy landing. The doors to the outside were within his sights as soon as he touched down onto the first floor. Still pushing past other students, not even bothering with any courteous 'pardon me's' he was at them in an instant. In time with the thudding of the music, he shoved the doors open and went, quite literally, dancing and spinning out into the warming sunlight, which had just begun to peek through the clouds. From across the large expanse of concrete just outside the doors sat an emptying bike rack, and leaning against it he spotted more than the usual quantity of familiar faces.
"Top 'o tha afternoon to ye, Haystack, sor! An' Mr. O'Hanlon, awful good!" As Richie pulled out his earbuds, music so loud it was still audible even as they dropped to hand at his side, he took a dramatic double-take and let out a loud gasp, "Well, if it isn't so!" Now, Richie was the Southern Bell rather than the Irish Cop, and he was taking Bill's hands in his and fluttering his lashes through his thick-framed glasses, "Sir Bill, and your noble companions! What have I done to be graced with your presences, my fair gentlemen?"
"You know you'll ruin your eardrums listening to your music that loud, right? You can't fix Tinnitus- and if you go deaf you'll have hearing aids for the rest of your life." Eddie gripped the straps of his backpack, his eyes flickering down to Richie'e earbuds, which were dangling dangerously close to the dirty ground- much too close for comfort. Eddie almost shuddered.
"Aw, thanks for the concern Spaghetward!" Richie let go of Bill, moving for Eddie instead, and slung his arm enthusiastically over the shorter boys shoulders. In return, as if it were instinct, Eddie let out a sound like the croak of a frog and ducked away with a grimace.
"Don't call me that, jackass!" Out of the entire group, the only one who was observant enough to note the faint red tint on Eddie's face was Mike, and he wasn't going to call the poor boy out on it.
"I see you're all getting along swell, huh?" Richie's dark gaze shifted from Ben and Mike to Bill and Stan, and then, lastly, to Eddie, where they lingered for just a second longer.
"Stan and Eddie were in math with me," Ben says with his small, kind smile, "Stan is some sort of super-genius or something- Eddie, too. I don't get it." Without missing a beat, Eddie let out an exasperated sound, shaking his head furiously.
"No, no no, don't lob me in with Stanley. He's the super-genius, I just nod my head and act like I know what he's talking about." Stan was quick to decline.
"Oh, don't say that. You're getting it."
"Hey, Bev's in working at the cafe today- are you guys interested in stopping by with me, Rich and Ben?" The next one to speak was Mike, and his offer was met with a cacophony of different replies; Ben seemed content with the idea, his smile going wider at the thought; Bill was quick to agree, and Stan was much the same, though Eddie didn't see to thrilled. He let out a sound as if he was going to speak, but then he clamped his jaw shut, mouth a straight line, and bit his tongue. Richie himself was positively ecstatic. His already bubbly mood was only amplified by this suggestion, and his grin was so bright it could blind.
"Oh, you have to come! The sun is out for once, you can't go curl up in whatever cave you're renting. Whaddaya say?" Swinging his backpack off his shoulders, Richie pulled his walkman free and clicked the 'pause' button, then proceeded to, unceremoniously, jam both it and the earbuds in his bag once more.
"I'm down," Bill said, glancing at Stan, who nodded, and then at Eddie, who shrugged curtly and stared intently at the ground below his feet.
"Great!" Zipping his bag back up and throwing it onto his shoulders, Richie moved to lead the way, and before the group knew it they were off, headed for the campus' outskirts and following their trusty guide, Richie Tozier, towards Portland Authentic. The stroll was quaint, amiable- Stan hung near the back with Mike and Bill, pointing out the different types of birds they spotted on the walk. Richie had thought every bird here in Portland was just some old rock pigeon, but now he knew that there were actually mourning doves as well. Ben was at Richie's side, hands in his pockets, his neck craned so that his face was upturned towards the sunlight. Eddie was, though reluctant, to Richie's other side, desperately trying to tune out the bird talk behind him. His annoyance was evident, but there was also a subtle fondness in his soft, brown eyes that showed how much he cared for Stan and his passions.
"Does he talk about pigeons a lot? You seem peeved." Eddie almost jumped right out of his skin at Richie's sudden words, having been totally spaced out in his desperate attempts to disassociate. Awkwardly, he lifted a hand and scratched at the back of his neck.
"Oh, uh," Eddie's gaze darted over his shoulder towards Stan, and then to Richie, and then back at his shoes, his worn black Converse sneakers, "Yeah. He loves them, but... I don't know why. They kinda-" Eddie cut himself off with a shrug, his hand dropping to his side once more, "Kinda gross, don't you think? With their weird feathers and their gross feet? All of their, like, diseases and shit?" Richie's cheeks had begun to hurt from the stretch of his smile. Something today was just making him giddy. His chest was tight with unadulterated glee, and it felt like something was pushing around in his stomach, like butterflies. Eddie was so impossibly earnest. The affection in his gaze directed at Stanley was heartwarming, the exact same kind of best-friend love that Richie had with Bev, Ben and Mike. Despite Eddie being disgusted by birds he was clearly still glad that Stan had something to be so passionate about- cute.
"I dunno," Richie said, a tilt to his head, "I think birds are kind of cool. Especially magpies? Oh, God," Richie took a few steps ahead, and then spun on his heel to walk backwards, facing Eddie and talking animatedly with his hands, "If I had the chance I would have a pet magpie. They're so pretty- their feathers look all blue in the sunlight and stuff, and they get so fluffed out when they're pissed." Eddie looked dumbfounded, his brows furrowed, his jaw dropped- disgusted, that was the word for the expression he wore.
"Are you fucking kidding me? A magpie? Those stupid, nasty black birds with the white chest? Jesus, what's wrong with you?" Running a hand over his face, Eddie let out a huff- Richie's smile grew, somehow, if that was even possible, at the distress his words seemed to have caused in the smaller boy. Seeing him all worked up like this made that weird feeling in Richie's chest grow tenfold. Brushing that thought away, still walking backwards, he let Eddie continue. "They don't know how to shut up. Every Spring, ever Autumn- they would be screaming away at the crack of dawn. I could never catch a wink of sleep. My mommy used to fire at them with my dads old BB gun, but she never hit any of them."
"And thank fuck for that!" Richie scoffed, playful, "Those poor things don't deserve to be shot." Eddie countered with a quick 'yes they do', and then the bickering continued. Their back-and-forth, the lighthearted, heated-on-Eddie's-end banter felt perfectly natural. Richie would say some quip, some little thing about magpies that he found nice or cute or interesting, and then Eddie would come right back at him with why that was false. Richie probably should have been listening to these comebacks, but he found himself getting, more often than not, distracted by little things like the cinnamon-dusting of freckles across the bridge of Eddie's nose or the way his chocolate-toned hair was swept so tidily to one side, not a single hair out of place. Sooner or later, Portland Authentic had come into view, the glass windows showing through to the bustling interior. The after-school rush had just hit, and boy was Richie glad he had the day off today. As he pushed the door open, the bird conversation cut short, he noted exactly how busy it was. The line was huge, nearly reaching the entrance, and almost every single seat was taken except for one four-person table in the back corner.
"I'll get the table." Stan's tone was serious, his gaze determined, "Get me a-"
"B-Black coffee, yeah," Bill was smiling, waving Stan off with one hand. At once, with a final nod of affirmation, Stan sped away to secure the seats. Though Richie didn't say anything, he thought to himself how the hell can someone like black coffee? because there were so many other options, sweet drinks, savory, peppermint or rich chocolate- drinking straight black coffee as a regular was basically a sin in his eyes. Slow and steady, the line progressed, Bev behind the counter working with two other people named Britney and Mason. Richie wasn't too fond of them and honestly pitied poor Bev having to deal with them all alone. It had been a good two or three weeks since she's been stuck in a shift without Ben or Richie at her side. Finally the group of five arrived at the till and Beverly's face brightened like a Christmas tree.
"Rich! Ben! Mike, Bill, Eddie- Great to see you guys, my God, today has been absolute hell-" She seemed to notice she was getting sidetracked, and shook her head, frazzled, getting back into her working head space. "Sorry. What can I get you guys?"
"An affogato for me, my dear, and- Hey, Eds, do you like ice cream? Whatever- Get a second one for him, too. He needs to branch out a little." Eddie gaped, seconds from a retort as Richie ordered for him, but then Richie stepped aside and shot him a glance that was unusually sincere. "Hey, don't worry. It's another low-caffeine one, and it's more vanilla ice cream than anything else. You'll love it, I swear."
"Yeah, fine," Eddie set his jaw tight.
"One bl-black coffee and an amer-amer-am-" Bill bit his tongue, screwing his eyes shut, and then, with a sigh, forced out the words, "americano. Jesus." Bev gave him a calm smile, a silent 'it's alright, dude' and turned to Ben and Mike who ordered a coffee with two creams and two sugars and a lemonade. Richie offered to pay, abusing his employees discount, and then the group all turned to the table in the corner where Stan was still seated with a book in his hand. As the group approached he placed the small origami crane he used as a bookmark between the pages of The Shining and tucked the novel away- the front cover had been battered and frayed, a sign of having been read and reread for years and years. Clearly, the book was cherished.
"Great choice, Stanny," Richie complimented with a nod towards Stan's backpack, where the book had been hidden away, "You a fan of horror?" Stanley was quick to shake his head, hugging himself gently and running his hands along his upper arms.
"I hate it. Bill is making me read it. It's torture." Bill let out a barking laugh as he took his seat, having pulled up an extra chair from another table. Two people would have to squish into the corners since this spot was only meant to seat four- no one seemed to mind.
"So you're the horror fanatic, then. Glad to see we have something in common! What's your favourite movie?" Taking his own seat on Stan's other side, Richie held his head up with his hand, elbow planted on the tabletop, his curiosity officially piqued. Ben and Mike weren't fond of the gore-packed stuff Richie enjoyed, so Bev was the only one who ever went to the theater with him; the idea of having another friend to catch some films with was just swell.
"That's tough to suh-say," Bill tapped his finger against the table, glancing sidelong at Eddie, "We went to see H-Halloween a few years back. I luh-liked that one a lot, but now wh-whenever I see it I think of when your m-mom found out-"
"Shut up, Bill," Eddie cut him off with a harsh glare, and then forced his expression to soften, covering up his snappiness with a red face and a sarcastic, "D-Don't remind me." It was clear he was embarrassed- Richie would have pressed, since he couldn't keep his trashmouth shut sometimes (all the time), but Beverly saved the day by hurrying over with a tray balanced precariously on one hand. Atop that tray sat the array of beverages that the group of six had ordered. With Beverly's fantastic memory, she began to hand out cup after cup to exactly who had requested them; Ben got his double-double, Mike his lemonade, Bill his americano, Stan his black coffee (Beverly knew it was for him even though he hadn't been at the till- not many people ordered coffee black and she remembered him from that first night.). Richie and Eddie were given their double order of affogato, an Italian coffee-based dessert consisting of a scoop of vanilla ice cream and a shot of espresso on the side.
"Thanks, Bevvie," Richie bid her adieu with a two-fingered salute and then turned all of his attention towards Eddie, "Alright," he began, "Eds,"
"-Don't call me that-"
"-you're about to taste the best thing you've ever had in your life. Follow my lead," Richie plucked up the small one-ounce shot glass of espresso, and, reluctantly, Eddie did the same. In tandem, they poured the coffee over the ice cream, then grabbed their spoons. Eddie was the first to take a scoop, shooting Richie a glance that he couldn't decipher before taking the bite. For the quickest second his eyes seemed to light up, and then he swallowed down the obvious delight and simply shrugged his shoulders.
"It's alright, I guess," He grumbled, and then proceeded to devour the next bite of the treat. Richie grinned wide, taking a scoop of his own and lifting it into the air, accepting his victory.
"I would like to propose a toast!" He called, and all eyes turned to him, "To Stuttering Bill, Stan the Man, and Eddie Spaghetti- Welcome to the Losers Club!" With a cheer from nearly all- Eddie settling for a small smile- the group burst into friendly chatter. Richie's toast held some sort of unseen monumental weight- everyone felt it- even Beverly, who was behind the counter and working away, had paused to raise her water bottle with bright eyes. Though everyone felt it- it, being that feeling of rightness- no one said a word. It wasn't necessary. Richie, Ben, Beverly and Mike had been a quartet for a few years now, as thick as thieves- they had called themselves the 'Losers Club' and, until Eddie, Stan and Bill arrived, the four of them had been the only members. No one could be certain what had changed, but, just like that, all seven knew that they were a singular unit. It was no longer Richie, Ben, Beverly and Mike. Now, it was Richie, Ben, Beverly, Mike, Eddie, Bill and Stan. The Losers Club with a capital L and a capital C.
In a fleeting moment, Eddie caught Bill's gaze, and held it. The redhead was wearing his leadership smile, that easy-breezy full-face grin that so easily gained him respect. Once the two's eyes clicked, that smile shifted into something else, something softer, something that Bill reserved for Eddie. It was a brotherly smile- After all, Bill was the brother Eddie had never had. Bill was the rock, the island in the middle of the ocean, the one thing that never failed to keep Eddie sane, the solace in the storm that had been his mother, and was now the unfamiliar territory of Portland. In that smile was an unspoken promise, as well as something else. The promise was These people will keep you safe. The 'something else' was Bill's pride- his pride in Eddie. I'm proud of you, Eds, the smile said. You're doing great. For the first time in his life, Eddie was fearless. His own smile said Thank you.
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soulwillower · a year ago
i hate you  • bill denbrough
(bill denbrough x reader smut)
requested: ‘hate sex w bill.. just saying..’ do it.. just saying 😳  +   girl if u do hate sex with bill... we have no choice but to stan!!    +   GIRL if you post hate sex with bill i will PASS OUT please do it
warning: swearing, smut, hate sex, kaspbrak!reader oop, brother’s best friend!bill bc im a slut for that shit, rough smut, mild degradation, dirty talk, some cumplay ngl, choking, unprotected sex, unedited lol
jesus u guys i’m...., wow
[losers + reader are 18+ in this.]
1.8k words
"ma, we're home!" you hear eddie call as he walks through the door. you grin, glad that your brother's finally back and you're not alone with your mom in your boring house. 
you fly down the stairs, "eddie, i have to show you thi-" you cut yourself off when you see he's not alone. "oh. why's he here?" you say, gesturing to bill denbrough, one of eddie's best friends, as he toes his shoes off behind your brother. 
he's always been a dick to you - so you've always been a bitch. he deserved it, though. no matter what your brother said.
both of them roll their eyes, but bill speaks first. "g-good to see you t-too, sunshine." he says sarcastically, shooting you a sneer that had no business being as sexy as it was. "why are you here?" you direct it at bill this time. "he's staying over. ma said he could have dinner with us." eddie says quickly, brushing past you with a warning look that says: behave, y/n. 
bill winks at you as he slips past you, chest pressing against yours. you cross your arms as your cheeks heat up.
"does he have to be here?" you whine, glaring at bill's head as he talks to your brother at the dining room table. "y/n. be nice, he's a good boy." your mom smacks you lightly on your arm and you sigh, shaking your head. you look to eddie and he sends you a look, making you roll your eyes again.
 everyone in this fucking house likes bill more than you. "no he's not." you mutter as your mom thumps out of the dining room and towards the kitchen. bill looks at you, "you kn-know, y-you're not very f-fun to b-be around yourself, y-y/n."
you scowl, "fuck you, bill. can you just leave? nobody wants you here." you spit as you sit at the dining table, crossing your arms.
"i-i think im w-wanted here more than y-you." the boy says, lifting a brow at you with a smirk. you gasp and look to your brother, who holds his hands up. "c'mon, don't make me do this again. i'm staying out of it." eddie mutters sassily, rubbing his eyes. you kick him in the shin and he glares at you. bill butts in. "i know that y-you're happy to h-have me over for d-dinner, y/n. you d-don't have to lie." he says with a teasing grin. you want to punch that cocky grin off his stupid sexy face. 
"i would rather marry that trashmouth asshole than willingly spend an hour with you." you state, glaring at him. he rolls his eyes, jaw clenching. “i’m gonna strangle you.” bill responds with a dirty look, making you scoff. “you wish you could." you spit. he glares at you but before he can speak, eddie slams his phone on the table.
"DON'T!" he yelps, face red in anger. you roll your eyes as you look to bill, who smirks at you.  you have to tear your eyes away at that look and you listen as eddie starts to harp on you for being rude to his best friend, all of you shutting up when your mom walks in, serving dinner. 
when dinner was done, you'd escaped to your room after clearing the table without a run in. you'd just finished showering, wearing only panties and a shirt as you sneak down to the kitchen for some water. you jump as you walk in to find bill scrolling on his phone, face lit up by his phone. you immediately scowl as he looks up at you.
"i l-like the look." he says, eyes running up your figure suggestively. although his eyes make you clench your thighs, you turn red and scowl. "why are you even still here? eddie's just went to help bev with homework." you mutter. bill shrugs, "h-he's coming back in an hour. im s-staying the night, it's p-pointless to go home for an hour and a h-half."
you roll your eyes. "whatever." you say, watching warily as he rakes his eyes over you. "what? you like what you see, douchebag?" you ask, snapping your fingers so he looks up at your eyes. he smirks, "k-kind of. if only you weren't such a-an unbearable b-brat."
your jaw drops and you stalk up to him. "says you. you couldn't fucking handle me, denbrough. you're too much of a coward." you spit. he drops his phone on the counter and it clatters in the quiet. "r-right. and now you're just trying to p-piss me off, huh? s-so desperate." he whispers, green eyes dark as he looks at you. 
"i hate you so much." you say, mustering the best glare you can. he raises his eyebrows. "oh, r-really? is th-that why you're s-so wet right now?" he says. your jaw drops - how did he know?
he laughs at the look on your face. “you’re so t-turned on already? th-that was fast,” he says, moving closer but not touching you. you're breathing heavily through your nostrils. "did you get wet when you saw me walk through that door earlier?" he whispers, smirking like the devil he is.
"you'd like it if i did." is all you can say. he just chuckles and before another stupid thing can leave his mouth, you're pushing up onto your toes to kiss him harshly.
he laughs mockingly into the kiss, his hands gripping your hip and pushing you into the kitchen island. his tongue is strong and warm as he slides it into your mouth, making you let out a small, involuntary moan.
 "what? d-does that feel good?” he says against your lips. you roll your eyes as you pull back. "fuck you, denbrough." you say breathlessly, your lips plump and chapped from being mauled by his own.
he smirks, head dipping to nip at your neck and you grip his shoulders. "don't leave any marks." you order, making him mutter against your neck, "y-you don't get to t-tell me what to do, princess." 
he bites down on your neck after this, making you yelp. his head snaps up, "sh-shut up, y/n. d-don't want s-sonia hearing, hm?" he asks lowly, rutting his hips against yours. you whimper quieter this time, rolling your eyes despite it. he’s already hard and you feel him against your stomach, waves of lust coursing through your body.
you fucking hate him. "think you can fuck me like you mean it, denbrough?" you say. it's a challenge, and the look in his eyes shows that he knows that.
quickly, he flips you around, pressing you against the island so your chest lays against the counter. he squeezes your ass in his large hands before pulling your shorts down. 
you crane your head to look at him with a glare, "if we get the kitchen messy, eddie and my ma will kill you." you spit. he leans forward with a glare of his own and you feel his bare cock against you, big, warm, and dripping with precum. in a quick moment, you thank god for birth control.
"i'll have to cum inside you then." he whispers, hand pressing your back so you lay flat against the cool marble of your kitchen island. you shiver at how how that was but quickly become impatient as he teases himself on your slit and rubs your clit, making you buck your hips in need. his hand stops your movements and he pushes you harshly against the counter. “s-stop it.” he barks, lining himself at your entrance finally. 
he pushes into you swiftly, making you gasp in pleasure and discomfort. he's so fucking big, but you bite your lip so he doesn't get the satisfaction of seeing you like this. "th-think you can take it?" he asks mockingly. you mutter a shallow, breathless and broken "i fucking hate you."
he laughs mockingly and pulls out, slamming into you at your words. you gasp, hands clutching the edge of the island as he thrusts harshly into you, the feeling of his cock stretching you making you whimper in bliss. 
a sharp pain on your ass cheek accompanies the sound of a smack and you drop your head onto the marble, loving the stinging of bill's hands smacking your ass as he pounds you into your kitchen counter.
"t-taking me so well. f-fuck, such a d-desperate bitch." he mutters, hands running up your sides as he fills you, hips snapping into yours. you hate how hot his words are and how good he feels pounding into you. 
you can't say anything and your legs are weak as his arm sneaks up, his fingers gripping your throat. you moan weakly as he squeezes his fingers and you think back to dinner. good to know he was not joking when he said he could choke you.
“you like my hand wrapped around your th-thoat, d-don’t you?” he says into your hear, squeezing and smirking at your flushed face as he snaps his hips. “s-say it.” he mutters. 
you let out a broken half-moan half-sob, nodding, “yes, f-fuck. i love it when you-when you choke me.” your face is red as you speak, feeling humiliated in the best way. he laughs at your words, hips snapping impossibly deeper and making your toes curl in pleasure. “wh-what do you say?” he mutters, fingers squeezing again. you gasp, “th-thank you, bill.” you mutter. 
he laughs maliciously, kissing your cheek as he fucks you into the counter. it’s delicious in the best way and you hate yourself for loving it. 
"bill!" you whimper quietly as you clench around his cock. he groans, hitting you deeply and squeezing your throat harder. you whimper, tears forming at the corner of your eyes. 
the feeling is overwhelming and his size and skill alone makes you realize you're about to cum. "oh my god." you mutter, voice broken as his grip on your throat doesn't let up.
"already cumming around my cock, hm? pathetic." he mutters into your ear. you squeeze your eyes shut as you cum, whimpering as your legs go weak and you hit a peak higher than any you ever have before.
"aw, are y-you crying?" he says tauntingly, making you whimper, the feeling of his cock thrusting hard into your sensitive pussy making you weak. "poor y-y/n." he whispers, sucking a mark onto the spot under your ear, hand still on your throat.
he pounds into you a few more times before his thrusts get weaker, groaning into your hair as he stills, muttering your name as he cums. he pulls out of you without any warning, making your legs almost give out and he chuckles, pulling your chin to the side and kissing you hotly on your mouth.
you hear him pull up his sweats and then he's pulling up your panties, rubbing your sensitive clit over the fabric and making you yelp quietly. he pats the seat of your underwear. "k-keep me in there, why don't you." he spits in your ear teasingly, slapping your ass as he pulls away, walking out of the kitchen.
you stay leaning against the kitchen island for a few moments, catching your breath and trying to comprehend what you and bill had just done, and why it had been the best sex you'd ever had.
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set-phasers-to-whump · a year ago
is something burning?
Prompt: fire, heat exhaustion
Whumpee: Eddie Diaz
Fandom: 911
hey whats up!! hope u like this fic! 
It’s been a long day, and they’re only ten hours into their shift. Call after call, fire after fire. As soon as they’re back to the station, the alarm is ringing again. They’re all handling it in various ways, from Chim’s griping to Buck’s staring wistfully out the window of the truck as they rush to yet another accident. Eddie, though, feels he’s handling it far worse than the others.
Not because he’s being especially irritable about it, or snapping at anyone, or having any kind of emotional reaction to the seemingly neverending calls. He just feels bad. If he didn’t know better, he’d say he felt feverish, but that wasn’t quite right. He’s sweaty, yes, weirdly thirsty, and tired, but he doesn’t feel sick. Just...bad.
He wonders, briefly, as they’re climbing into the truck to go to their second structure fire of the day, if it’s because of the heat. But he looks around at everyone else, and they all seem fine. Maybe a little tired and grumpy, but none of them look like how he feels. There’s no point in bringing it up, then, he figures. He’s not sick and they’re not feeling it. He can just ignore this, anyway. It’s not that bad, and he’s still got a lot of work ahead of him. He pushes the bad feeling to the side.
They arrive at the fire a minute later, and it’s a big one. Normally, they’d all be a little more excited about such a fire, but the stress of the day has worn on them, so that they all just do their jobs, with little conversation passing between them, something which suits Eddie just fine. He’s too tired to focus on anything but doing what he needs to do. 
The fire is in a small, one-story home, something which Eddie is deeply grateful for. No ladders to climb this time. The family that lives there is gathered safely outside, but looking considerably distressed. 
“You have to go in there and get Benny!” a little boy says to Eddie, running up to him as he’s pulling equipment off the truck.
“Who’s Benny?” Eddie asks, alarmed. There shouldn’t have been anyone still inside. 
“He’s our dog, he was hiding under the couch and we couldn’t get him out!” the boy responds tearfully. “Dad was going to go back to get him, but it was too hot. You have to save him!”
“I will,” Eddie promises, and hurries to relay this information to Bobby, who tells him to get the dog as quickly as he can so they can start with the hoses.
As Eddie enters the burning house, he feels briefly faint, stumbling over his feet for a second. As soon as the smoke engulfs him, though, the feeling fades, and everything unimportant goes away. 
He locates the dog quickly enough. He’s shivering and a little dusty, but seems otherwise unharmed. Eddie picks him up and carries him outside, setting him onto the grass and watching with a smile as he goes running up to the little boy.
He starts walking back to his team to help them extinguish the fire, but he doesn’t make it more than three steps before that faint feeling comes back, and his head starts to spin. A wave of nausea hits him all of a sudden, and he scrabbles to get his mask off. The second it’s away from his face, he turns to the side, thinking he’s going to be sick, but instead the faintness increases tenfold, the world spins rapidly around him, and he collapses to his knees on the grass, not unconscious but not fully present, shivering and sweating at the same time.
And then, there’s a cold hand on the back of his neck, and he flinches away from it, then leans back into it, not sure if he’s hot or cold. He hears voices talking above him, hears water being pumped from the hoses, but all of it blurs together so that he can’t pick out anything distinct. His head is spinning. He thinks he’d be lying on the ground if it weren’t for the hand on his neck and the other one on his chest, holding him up. 
Suddenly, the hand on his neck is moving, and then he feels someone undoing the zipper of his turnout coat and pulling it off of him. The first gust of hot air that hits his chest feels like the best thing in the world, and then the hand is back on the back of his neck, this time pressing something much cooler and much more wet into his skin. It drips down his back and makes him shudder, but whoever is holding it there doesn’t move it. 
He’s not sure of how long he stays like that, half out of it, with someone - multiple someones? - keeping him from collapsing, cooling him down. Eventually, though, his hearing clears up, and then Buck is talking to him, and Eddie thinks that he would really like to respond, but he is far too tired to even open his mouth.
Buck asks if he feels up to moving, and he shakes his head, wincing when it brings a brief wave of dizziness with it. 
“Can you drink some water, at least?” Buck asks, and Eddie nods, feeling suddenly as though he’s never been this thirsty in his life. 
Then there is a cool bottle being pressed into his hands, and he drinks half of it at record speed, only stopping when he nearly chokes. Someone takes the bottle from him, then, and presses another cool cloth to his forehead. He leans unconsciously into the touch, no longer shivering at the cold. 
Buck is speaking to him again, about nothing in particular, and he listens, slowly but surely feeling some of his strength come back, feeling some of the overwhelming heat leave his body. Finally, after what might be minutes but might just as easily be hours, he feels well enough to stand on shaky legs, nearly falling right back to his knees until Buck’s arm wraps around his shoulders. He leans heavily on the other man as they start walking - where to, he can’t tell. 
They stop after what feels like a mile, and then Buck is gently pushing him down onto something, and he recognizes, through his now mostly-cleared-up but still unfocused vision, that he’s in the back of the ambulance. He feels Buck sit down next to him, far enough away that none of his body heat is affecting Eddie, and then he feels someone else - Hen, he knows, instinctively - touch his forehead, and his cheeks, and his neck, and so on. She asks him how he’s feeling as she hands him another bottle of water, warning him to take it slow this time. 
He tells her he feels okay in between sips, which isn’t completely true considering he still feels like shit, but he certainly feels better than he had before, at any rate. 
“What happened?” he thinks to ask. 
“You almost passed out from heat exhaustion is what happened,” Buck says from next to him, sounding angry.
“Oh,” Eddie says, eloquently. 
Hen sighs. “Why didn’t you tell us, Eddie?” she asks. “You must’ve felt it coming on.”
Eddie shrugs halfheartedly. “Didn’t seem like a big deal. Nothing I couldn’t handle.” 
Buck scoffs. “Really, Eddie? You didn’t think heat exhaustion was a big deal? People die from that.”
“Sorry,” Eddie mutters. “I really didn’t think anything was wrong. Not seriously, anyway. Didn’t feel sick. Just kinda bad.”
Now it’s Buck’s turn to sigh, his voice softening from that angry-yet-concerned tone. “Eds, you gotta tell us stuff like that. Even if you don’t think it’s important.”
“I’ll try,” Eddie says, knowing that he probably won’t. He’s just not that kind of person. He never has been. He keeps his problems to himself.
And then those problems overwhelm you, says a voice in the back of his head that he hates because he knows it’s right. 
He is spared the pain of having to think on that particular subject anymore by Buck’s hand coming to rest on his back, a presence that feels blissfully neither warm nor cold. 
“We’re a team, Eddie,” he says, like a promise. “We’re always here for you. You just have to let us be.”
Thanks so much for reading this!!!!!! I hope u enjoyed and sorry for any errors, i didnt edit alot bc i gotta go watch the amazing race bc its finally back on!!! idk if any of u like it but i’ve been watching it w my family for as long as i can remember lol
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thecrenellations · 8 months ago
Return of the Thief Notes, Part One: The Book of Pheris, Volume I
Notes from my first read, October 2020. (Part Two | Part Three | TaT)
Contents:  "So, so, so” watch, Costis watch, swearing, trashing the king’s attendants, being objectively wrong, boundless enthusiasm and love 
I promise I’ve had more developed thoughts since these often incoherent ones, but I’ve enjoyed having these notes to refer to - for sentimental reasons and for  entertainment, so here they are, for others who enjoy liveblogs and/or being whisked back in time to their first read of this wonderful book.
Format: Page number. My thoughts (Context?)
Dedication, Table of Contents, Exordium:
There it is – to Sounis
Exordium – vocab #1
Interregnum?!? Alyta?
Yeah I love him from the first page
A new level of unreliable narrator
Moira, messages of Gods, Pheris, messages of __
Wtf is going on in this study? A zoo?
high king vs great king vs annux?
okie dokie dude
Chapter 1
1. Susa – Costis
2. Infirmity – who gets to be hero/tell story (I started reading right after the book launch, in which mwt spent some time talking about her writing influences and decisions connect to this question - Pheris isn’t her first disabled protagonist and storyteller, of course, but it was lovely to meet him properly directly after hearing her talk about it. Book launch foreshadowing part 1...)
Is this why he wasn’t taught to read?
3. Always the summer
4. Hunting cat… hm…
Ok … shrine … 😬
5. Once again we start with a disaster or having to flee
Which Eugenides precipitated
Little monster :(
6. Falling…
7. :( :( :(
His purpose? D:
Chapter 2
9. Hello there! (Gen!)
Massive chair?
10. CRACKED WATER JUG (amphora motif???)
11. Triangle from seal!
Gen that’s rude to Pheris :( (“He will fit in very well with my attendants”)
Wait. This must have happened before ACoK! (nope)
12. :(
Xikander … never made an impression before
How old is Pheris? (lol)
13. Philologos come thru!
Royal closet reappears!
14. Hello weird secondhand scene!
He is Eugenides
15. Petrus? GALEN? OH SHIT! 
Is this why Galen was called? (nope)
16. Hell yea Petrus
Miras’ golden balls oh no
All these previously unnamed sucky attendants!
17. Ula – goddess of hearth and healing
Ok … Galen … or a god? Eugenides????? (why did these options occur to me before Mr. Shows Up At Your Bedside At Night himself)
18. Finally the attendant floor plans I crave + hunting scenes!
19. EXCUSE ME he slept through Sounis + Eddis wedding!!!
Again – high king!
20. So Ion is beautiful … hmm.
Yeah … Sejanus has facets. I like it.
21. Clearly no one would know what king would do … lol
Don’t mind me just sorting the attendants on a spectrum of awfulness!!!
22. SO SO SO – ION!!!!!
How many fucking attendants are there and how many are on my hit list!
Is “the necessaries” bathrooms or like … him stealing? (just the bathrooms ... the Gen-Pheris parallels were really getting to me at this point)
Also … frogs. Frogs.
24. Big day for Gen huh
Definitely an aura of Something as he writes about Gen
26. Sorry Kamet, Pheris does the physical descriptions better. They’re beautiful
I’m blacking out at Eddis and Sounis
27. Jesus Christ. The bear.
Cousin time!
Under the table is the new up on the roof!
Uh… twin imagery ….
Gen’s feet!
Jesus. The matching
28. Cleon … wtf? A cousin?
A trial for Sophos?
Show! Us! Sophos’s! Shoes!
29. If u throw things out the air shaft you might hit the king
Was it a chicken?
Lol nvm the guy at night is Gen. That is … very sweet
- Showing up at night
- Accent
- Complaining about Petrus
- Swearing
- One hand
I am judging Costis and Sophos for not describing the paneling in Gen’s room!
Chapter 3
30. Was it a chicken?
An earring huh, good hand huh
31. Literally screaming “NO!” at Gen. Don’t joke about dying! I am killed by Gen on annux day. This is. My boy. Yes he is perfect. Yes he will refuse to get up. I love him. I died on page 31
Philologos is still the best of them
32. Dancing bear indeed
Always the powdered gold
Ruby!!!!! <3
Aww a smile!!! <3
Pheris he likes you!
33. They both love invisibility and lost it … I cry
Erupt like the sacred mountain excuse me!
OR WORSE return to bed! Lol
34. He’s Eugenides when he’s talking to Attolia
Ouch hero talk
! from Irene!
My queen!
Hey Phresine!
They way we do <3 he’s hating it but he’s so comfortable with her
Sister and bro mention! C’mon!
I love them
35. Honestly that’s a yes (“I have no idea what you mean, my queen”)
It’s so cute they hang out in the morning … like how long was it even since they’ve seen each other lol
:( tough walk for Pheris
Is it prophecy time?
Lol how long does this construction take?!
Also … she’s pregnant, huh? but no one knows (nope)
Is befriending someone weaponized as a prank count for Gen’s enemies to friends list?
Also SHOW ME the magus. I know he’s here!
36. Pheris excuse me, why not recreate this!
Lol cast off language of history indeed
Feel the thrum of the goddess!
EXCUSE ME… a minor goddess? Mystery goddess? Or Philia?
Oh Gen
37. Well, Gen, someone is having a worse day than you.
Damn, how far we come.
Aww Sounis, babe, I love you and so does Gen
[drawing of the four of them sitting in a row]
38. Artadorus???? Pomegranate?
39. HEIRO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! A friend! Also lol. Two smiles, for Pheris and Heiro..
40. Yesss Melheret joke in action.
Costis has left tho right?
Jesus, Melheret
SHE GAVE HIM A HORSE (I COULD NOT DEAL with this entire conversation, but then again I could not deal with this whole book.)
41. I love them all so much
“on that horse, you will look like a king” I can’t with her sense of humor
He sure did say that
I feel like I’m missing something with the fight on foot thing … remembering battles?
Helen called him Gen!
Sophos stop talking about yourself and bringing apricots into everything lol
Lol these bystanders don’t know how lucky they are. Nor does Pheris, yet
42. She’s protecting him
Also … Gen … you didn’t want to be a soldier.
43. Guards have capes
2 startled men … hm …
Oh Gen. The fucking brutal echoes…
44. :( :( :(
Gen tell your wife you’re sick!
The attendants are so dumb
45. So, so, so :(
Tell who? Petrus?
46. Bleeding! Salt! Lemon! Heck no! What is he, a piece of meat?
47. “savoring each bite as if it were my last” ... Same … but with this book
Hmm… Alyta! Goddess of the gentle rain! (despite this “hmm,” I did not put the pieces together)
48. Oh no Teleus! And someone?
Aw he realized <3 lemon water
49. Gen eat your broth lol
50. I love them.
Ion’s really trying to make up for what he did that one time
51. Without the approval of the great goddess HAHAHA
I love them. Cousin time! Growl?
Idk whether or not to be reassured, Gen.
Wow Cleon I do not like that. Also didn’t he die? (...)
Comma (“I am not, Eddis”)
Go smack him!
52. Gen I love you.
Helen I love you.
He’s so bad at self care but I love him
Chapter 4
55. love that our narrator just disappears and reappears
56. Attolia’s brother’s bedroom? Yikes. Ominous. A detail in a story we’ve already gotten, different every time <3
57. fucking attendants. 3 good ones. Medander you were beneath Costis’s notice before but I hate you. Costis didn’t have time for you or Xikos or Xikander and nor do I
58. interesting pawn talk!!!
59. <3 Pheris :(
The Gen comparisons though
:( :( :( :(
60. flamboyance <3
Cemphora bush
61. I love him
62. I love them
Also lol “Your majesty?”
63. Name … hm … (“I have deliberately omitted [my tutor’s] name here”)
64. more twin imagery I swear
WAIT … it was his birthday! Not just Annux day?!! Gen was born in late summer???
Attendant list thank you
65. laying it all out there, huh … (that one Gen quote)
Lol they’re the same but Pheris likes horses
66. Insellia! Hello nice to meet you
67. Gen that’s mean. (“He is hardly even half of one.”)
68. Coleus leves???
“I am Eugenides.” <3
Gen why
69. Gold cups???? Hmmmmm. Also lioness. Def invoking Costis. (they’re probably not the cups, but STILL)
70. Moira! Hi!!! Rainbow shawl!
Like a rabbit!
I’m … very sad he uses his Attolian accent with Helen
71. Aaah so good
Moira knows another messenger?
Does he think he can’t die in battle?
72. hmm are they WRANGLING?! (Galen and Petrus and my Fire and Hemlock word association)
Kill that pastry Irene I love you
morning training with his … guard? (Is that the whole guard or a guard? Costis senses tingling once again.)
73. Oh gen.
Ouch! (“to send people to their deaths and not risk my own is contemptible”)
Is she implying he’s paying Therespides?
74. Interesting Cleon plan. So many doubles
OUCH. (“Only if he comes back from the dead.” I assumed Lader had died in the war; it’s a different ouch now. I love that they both accidentally say things to each other that poke old wounds, and it’s not a big deal but it’s also not dismissed! Their relationship has come so far, and I love them so much.)
75. Verimius – Lavia – Celia??? Somebody is queer in there!
This scene confuses me. Xortix? Layteres? Aris! but dice thing is less political … so maybe? (just wait....)
76. So many reasons to hate Medander
Hey Costis! You exist! KoA happened!
Gen is just … still so uncomfortable and miserable. He chose, he has people, but still.
RIP Clopius also WHAT
77. Lol Hilarion’s grand statements
78. Yorn Fordad Hello!
Luxurious mustache
The mighty Pents?
Besin Quedue – she’s coming 4 you watch out
79. RIP Baron Hippias
Chapter 5
80. Spring! Plays! Cenna!
81. Oh dear
Oh dear
At least they said he was pretty
83. ?!? :( wine
Uh oh. Stockpiling
85. What even.
86. Omg Irene. Hissing. I love her.
Also … Gen’s the viper
Also this scene was written by Pheris.
87. oh no.
What better man
She fucking quoted Howl. I love them.
Also, bees (this scene killed me)
90. Falling?
Oh shit
Also … Juridius and Pheris, Susa and Costis (comparing demands for information)
93. oh my god (IT’S THE WINDOW SCENE)
Oh my god
94. She! Called! Him! Gen!
I love this and it scares me
Lol Chloe
Irene you learned from her though
95. D:
96. :(
97. water stuff
98. what the heck
OH NO (Quedue scene)
100. yikes
102. yikes yikes YIKES
103. a blade has protruded from his chest (tbt to The Thief)
106. shit
Did Gen hit him?
108. lol Phresine
109. lol
I want genuinely every character’s reaction to this shit
Chapter 6
111. what the heck Gen.
112. like a god [crown doodle]
114. Perma?
116. Gen. Gen. Gen. Do not.
117. AAAA (god intervention)
122. Juridius to Dite
124. bye Iolanthe and Ileia! Tell us about Caeta and Silla.
125. did not expect so much Ion
Chapter 7
127. Fryst god of winter
She laughed!
They’re so married
128. OH SHIT (Costis ship is sighted and I remember what’s about to happen next)
Interesting timing
He rode the horse home?
131. Beauty and good, beauty and kind
134. The gods’ goodwill
Keep them safe <3
135. Is that his MOM?!! Wtf (it was!)
Pheris steal those earrings!!!
137. AMPHORA EARRINGS (and flowers)
138. I love Phresine
139. Why do I feel like all the game birds are pigeons
140. meanwhile Gen’s been hanging out with Kamet. Shit. I cannot.
141. lethium soup! The reversal
Safe for you
142. of course he knew <3
143. Kamet time! I love him. We get to see Kamet!!!
Also … echo of Gen’s notes on Mede
145. very handsome. … gaycostis vindication (referring to @costis’s url at the time and this post. Little did I know what else was to come in the next chapter and then a few months later with the adaptation news...)
Do you know who I am?
Chapter 8
147. Of course he’s a cartographer
A favorite huh
148. of course she didn’t tell us his age!
149. the angsty window staring I crave
151. adventure, huh
I do have a soft spot for Melheret
152. concerned about amphora gift
153. Glad they can be well and united in spite!! (Gen and Melheret)
154. Pheris loves math and I love him
155. Hello Teleus. Hello olives
Lol Relius is not into math
156. pigeons. Inkpot!
157. yeah honestly. He tortures people. He was NOT tortured by the king
159. lol (“I have noted the elective nature of certain behaviors” ... I love Relius and Pheris.)
160. The Invitation! I <3 it
FOLKS HERE WE ARE (I cannot overstate how wonderful it was to read this page. I did not know who the poem was from, and “Someone loves me very much, even with all my faults” is even sweeter to reread, but it’s just ... his confidence is so different from the tentative consideration of a new philosophy of trust and love we see in KoA. And there is subtextual queerness in the books before this one, some more apparent and some more subtle (and what is obvious to one reader may be subtle or invisible to another, in these books especially), and there is the attendant love triangle a few chapters back, but HERE - here, Pheris acknowledges the real feeling and love in Legarus’s disastrous relationship and tells us directly that his lover was a man, here he seamlessly makes it clear how bi and poly Relius is, and he quietly ties these relationships and realities to his growing understanding of the world. It’s not subtext. And there’s a lot more to come, but this page really hit me, and sort of promised the “more to come” while assuring me that what had come before, more subtly, was there. I used to have heteronormative readings of both these books and myself, and when Thick as Thieves brought them crashing back into my heart after years away, I knew better about myself, and I saw that - or the possibility of that reading -  reflected in the new book, and it was such a good surprise. It meant a lot, and this page meant a lot, and that is why I’m writing a small essay to accompany this note.) 
Lol wow
162. Where are you traveling, man (this question remains)
163. Fuck you, Orutus
164. Stole an inkpot!
165. the map!!! (Kamet’s)
166. I love them!
167. The Math Master hmm
Am I an oracle (Nope! :) )
3 notes · View notes
thehumming6ird · 2 years ago
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So here we are, Tom Hiddleston and me, in a boat in the middle of the Serpentine as the sun sets on a lovely autumn evening. He is doing the rowing. ‘Shall we turn the boat around?’ the star of Thor and War Horse says as we reach the bridge. ‘I want to go downstream, show you how fast I can really go!’ It’s almost embarrassingly romantic. If this were a date, I’d probably make my move right about… now. He has already told me he is single. He pauses from rowing to dab a bead of sweat from his curls, the handsome bastard.
Then a cloud passes over and it strikes me suddenly that if I wanted to grab the oar and do a Talented Mr Ripley on Hiddleston, I will never get a better moment. He does make his life sound rather enviable. ‘I always stay by the ocean when I’m in LA,’ he is saying now, paddling the boat round in a gentle U-turn. ‘When we were shooting Thor, I’d commute 20 minutes south down the 405 freeway from Venice to the Marvel Studio… On Saturdays, I’d run along the beach, along the shimmering Pacific and I remember thinking: “You know what? This is all right.” ’
I suppose it’s lucky for Hiddleston that he’s so impeccable, so sweet. It would feel a bit mean to stove his face in and steal his identity. ‘I know that’s going to be pretty galling to read when you’re on your way home from work on a wet October night,’ he adds, sparing a thought for those readers who don’t hang out with Natalie Portman and have pretend sword fights with Chris Hemsworth for a living.
We decided to take the interview outside, since we both felt a little cooped up, and Hiddleston, who divides his time between Chalk Farm and Venice Beach, wanted to enjoy the park. He had spent a long and arduous afternoon being photographed at The Dorchester. I had spent a long and arduous afternoon waiting for him, sinking martinis and reading Tom Hiddleston fan fiction on the dedicated Tumblr, (One of the stories is billed as ‘14 pages of pure Hiddleston smut’.) The boat was a spur-of-the-moment decision, but, as it turns out, a rather good idea. The mild exertion seems to relax him. ‘I love that we’re doing this!’ he says.
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Hiddleston, 32, can look back on his career and trace a neat trajectory through Eton (where he was a classmate of Eddie Redmayne), Cambridge (where he acted opposite Rebecca Hall), Rada (where he was in the same year as Andrea Riseborough), the Donmar Warehouse (where he was spotted by an LA casting agent) and now Hollywood. He proves to be not only highly courteous, insisting on paying for the boat trip himself, but mindful enough to deflect his own actorliness. ‘I’m soooo aware of the borderline pretentiousness of my conversation,’ he says shortly after a 15-minute-plus discourse on identity and narrative. Still, when he quotes Shakespeare, at length, it doesn’t come across as overly pretentious.
We have actually met to talk about Thor: The Dark World, in which Hiddleston reprises the role of Thor’s evil brother Loki. By 2011, he had earned glowing reviews for plays such as Othello and Ivanov and small British films such as Joanna Hogg’s Unrelated, but it was playing the villain in the first Thor film, directed by Kenneth Branagh, that took him global. He has since appeared in Woody Allen’s Midnight in Paris (as F Scott Fitzgerald) and Jim Jarmusch’s Only Lovers Left Alive (as a vampire) as well as the superhero spin-off Avengers Assemble. ‘I’ve got to be honest. Loki is the thing that has opened me up beyond audiences who come to the Donmar. I’ve had a riot playing him. If you’re going to be a god, you may as well be the god of mischief, right?’
Actually, Hiddleston and Loki are a good match. Hiddleston gained a double first in Classics: ‘so my knowledge is more of the Greco-Roman variety, but I did learn a bit about the Norse gods.’ (At one point he says, ‘Ah, tempus fugit,’ and it takes me a while to realise that it’s Latin for ‘time flies’.) Not only does he get to continue the tradition of English villains in Hollywood, just when we were beginning to be out-evilled by Islamic terrorists and Russian gangsters, he also brings a depth of characterisation often lacking in the superhero genre. ‘This is going to sound really wanky, but because Kenneth Branagh and I are both such lovers of Shakespeare, we made Loki out of Shakespearean characters,’ he explains.
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Branagh forged a bond with Hiddleston when they both appeared in Chekhov’s Ivanov in the West End in 2008. Hiddleston recounts how he burst into Branagh’s dressing room, dressed as a 19th-century Russian doctor, brandishing a water cooler as a Nordic battle-axe — inspiring Branagh to cast him there and then. (The two have also appeared together in the BBC adaptation of the Swedish crime drama Wallander.) For the character of Loki, ‘we talked about King Lear, with its two brothers; we talked about Macbeth and his ambition; and we talked about Iago, the way he spins every situation for self-interest…’
Shakespeare is very much where it all started for Hiddleston — he describes the 2007 Donmar production of Othello in which he was spotted as ‘one of the happiest times of my life’. He is now returning to the small theatre to play Coriolanus in Josie Rourke’s production. The play is one of Shakespeare’s lesser-known tragedies, though he believes its combination of war, politics and weird mother/son relationship to rival that of Hamlet and Gertrude’s will resonate. ‘It’s about the greatest general in the Roman army, who becomes a national hero and so is corralled by the elite to become a politician. But he’s not equipped for politics; he’s equipped for soldiery. It plays upon this very true characteristic of human nature, how we build people up and then we tear them down.’
He declaims a speech to some passing ducks: ‘What would you have, you curs/ That like nor peace nor war? The one affrights you/The other makes you proud.’ (This goes on a while.) ‘That could be the Americans talking about Obama. It could be about Syria,’ he explains. I remark that he’s beginning to sound like his mentor Branagh. Would he ever go into directing himself? ‘One day, yes, not now, I’m not sure I’m ready. But I don’t know if one ever is.’ Of Branagh, he says: ‘I’ve always found him very impressive. He’s a person who confounds your expectations — he is not how you expect him to be. He’s one of the most industrious, impeccable actors and directors that we have.’ And then, just as I’m about to take over the rowing, the boat guy comes speeding towards us in his motorboat. We have gone over our allotted half-hour.
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Back on dry land, I question Hiddleston more on his past. His parents divorced when he was 13, though relations remained amicable. He is the middle child, with two sisters. ‘I’m so close to my sisters. They’re my best friends.’ His older sister Sarah is a journalist based in India, while his younger sister Emma is an actress.
Contrary to what you might expect, his lineage is not exactly aristocratic. ‘I’m an inheritor of so many different parts of the British experience,’ he says. His father James is from Greenock, a working-class district of Glasgow. The son of a shipbuilder, he spent many of his teenage years working in a butcher’s shop, but managed to ‘educate himself out’ of his environment via the local grammar school and Newcastle University. He ended up as a managing director in the pharmaceutical industry. Hiddleston’s mother Diane was from a ‘well-to-do’ English family whose parents used to run the Aldeburgh festival at the time when Benjamin Britten was still composing. She plays the organ to a high standard and has worked as a stage manager. ‘They’re both very curious people,’ says Hiddleston. ‘I feel as much defined by their tastes and their complexities as anything else.’
He says that as a boy he was never very confident but always conscientious. ‘I was always concerned about wasting time. I don’t ever want to look back and think: “Why wasn’t I doing something or making something?” I used to read obituaries obsessively. They always started with a birth date and maybe the county where the subject was raised — and then the life would start at 25. What happened to those 25 legitimate years of good living time?’
I wasn’t supposed to ask about Eton — the source of so many leading actors it’s a wonder they don’t build a pipeline from Berkshire to the Hollywood Hills — but I sense that it is on his mind. If all you have to define the first 25 years of your life is one place name, he must forever fear being ‘Old Etonian actor Tom Hiddleston’, right?
‘I know, that’s what’s so odd about narrative,’ he muses as we stroll through the autumn leaves. ‘People are formed by love and loss. By family, friendship, grief and courage… and failure and heartbreak and fun and all the things that make life colourful and interesting. But the narratives that people then form out of all that colour and interests are always so neat. It’s all chaos.’
He mentions an actor friend of his, half-Scottish, half-Malawian, who grew up between Zambia and Dorchester-on-Thames. ‘Now, as a mixed-race actor, everyone wants to cast him as some East End character on a council estate, but he has absolutely no connection to that world.’ Would Hiddleston ever play council estate? ‘I’d love to. It’s exciting when you have the chance to do something that isn’t your natural inheritance.’ He says he doesn’t mind so much coming off a production line of frightfully handsome young English actors. It’s just he doesn’t like being judged on his background: ‘Most people are running towards what they want to be and running away from who they are. The narrower that gap, the happier you are. Does that make sense? My point is that no one wants to be judged for who they are.’
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I’m prepared to leave Eton there, but he comes back to it. ‘So, I’m 13 and it’s time for me to change schools. My dad has had this extraordinary life, he’s made himself from the ground up. He comes back from looking round the school and says [Glasgow accent]: “There were 15 football pitches. Can you imagine? Fifteen. Amazing. There’s a theatre with its own lighting rig. There’s a building just for painting. You have to go. Have to.” ’ Hiddleston pauses. ‘So once you’ve seen that, someone who’s come from nothing, trying their hardest to give their child the best education, and then you get out the other side and everyone throws fruit at you…
‘Look, it’s fine,’ he adds. ‘I’ve been blessed with an extraordinary education. I feel privileged and I know I’ve had an enormously pleasant life. But it also has its complexity. I’d love to round out the rosy picture with some shade that would give you some more detail, but it’s not my past. I feel like baring that in public would be ungracious. And anyway, we’re in the present. Look at what’s in front of you.’
The sun has set over the park, the sky is pink, the trees silhouetted. It is beautiful. ‘Extraordinary,’ he says. ‘This is why I love this city. Honestly, I wouldn’t trade an evening like this for anything. Why would you want to be anywhere else?’
Photographs by Tomo Brejc. Styled by Anish Patel. Fashion assistant: Jess Wright. Grooming by Amanda Grossman at Frank Agency using Nip+Man.
544 notes · View notes
savedbythedel · 9 months ago
Eddies in a box
or Flowers in a Box but it’s cyberpunk. anyway here u go
Chapter 1 – The Beginning
autors note: okay just so you know i dont like this game. well sorta, but not really. but my older sister really like it though so i'm writing it for her as a present for her birthday. :) i hope that she likes it!
dedcated to my sister, haley :)
-okay beginning now-
Vee walks into the flat megabuildign 10. he is wearing a scarf and has squinty eyes. then he sees johnny sitting on the chair in the flat. the flat is pretty and has many BDs in it.
"hollo johnny" he says
"hello Vee" jonnhy says but bitchily.
"what are you on your period of something?" said ve also bitchily (but Johnny can sound way more bitchy because Koala Reeves plays him)
"you should knows i'm not a girl after you spend all night sucking my dick ;)" said johnny (johnny has the hots for v even if he has squinty eyes)
(i bet johnny has a squinty eyes fetish)
"what?' said ve e because he was smoking and not paying attention.
"oh nothing i guess that was a dream" said jonnhy sadly
"oh cool" said vee (hes kind a dumbazz lol) "anyways i came back from the store because rogue says we have a new case"
"oh really?" johnny said. He got up and walked over to eve. "Wow that's cool :)"
"We should go" said vee. "rouge will be wondering where we're going"
-some time later-
The crime scene was very bloody. It was at a muesum. everyone was there. even Takemura (everyones a bitch in this game and so is takemura). Takemura walked over to veee and there was some black chick by him (she kinda looks like the girl from being human, lol i love that show you sould watch it)
"Hi freak-v” Takemura said. (hes a jerk but he gets alot of dick he's like a pimp lol)
"why don't you go fuck a dinosaur taekmura" said Eev. 'jerk and also your cheating on your Wife."
"WHAT" said tkaemura (even though he's pimp hes still lame :)) and then he run off (but he didn't fuck a dinosaur like frea-v said)
(i know i'm not that good but the story isn't that bad :D please review)
Then Rouge came by and that made stuff more interesting. (i like her shes cool).
"Hi vee" she said. "how is this case going"
"Good" said V. "I think I know the killer"
"wow vee you're so hot" Said Jhonny.
"what?" said v.
"I mean smart" said johnyn.
"i know right?" Ve says
"can you just tell me who the killer is?"
V looked down at the body and narrowed his already squnty eyes. then some white words (it happens in the game guys don't flame me) appeared in front of him.
"the killer is takemuar;" said Vee e. "because he is a douche".
"Ok arrest him guys" said Rgoue. "Thanks vea for your help".
"no problem," said V.
then they took away takemura, but someone was watching from the shadows. Someone who would want revenge.
-authors note: please r and r! i'll write more i have a great twist coming up :)-
Chapter 2 - The Skull
autors note: FCK H8TRS ! but for that 1 person who liked my fic thnx you 3 ! ! keep reviewin guyz! :)
-2 days earler-
takemura stempted through the doorway of the door. in side was a bunch of creepy stuff like spider web and a fish tank with deadly fish and a hammer head shark in it. and so was adam smasher.
(i hate yorinobu i like to call him Adam MASHER :))
Tkaemura sat down at the tabel across from smasher. "hello" he said.
"hello takemura why are u here" said smaher
"well yor i was wonderi ng if uo could fix somthing for me." said Taekmura. (get it cause in the game they say 'adam can u fix it for me? :O)
"wat?" said smaser
"well u see in the future this guy caled V-" said takemura
"oh i know him hes tawsome" said smashr
"ikr anyways he arrests me in the da future so i ned you to kill him." said taekmura
"how do u know the futre" masher saided
"well you see" said takemura
Takemura is in the megabuild10 wen he touches Vees skull (not his REAL skull under his ksin lol his UNREAL 1 on the s helf)
then he (dun dun dun)… COULD SEE THE FURTE
-flashnack over-
"cool faslback" said smsher
"i know right"
"you no takemura you're really pimpin (well it's true real the first chatper of my sotry) so I think i will kill him for you"
"thnx then" said takemura.
"your welcome" said smashre
-back at the flat in the presnt time-
"i wonder what adam is doing now" sid vee
"yea me to," said johnny wisfuly "last time we saw him was at the hq. remember it blew up becasue u shot the bomb then the elevator began to explode. Yorinoub jumped away on his mototcyle-copter and smasher fired up his lazers into the smoke and climed up them. i pushed you in too the water beloe and (can you guys tell im trying to add more desription to make it god :)) saved us botg. then rouge came in and saved us. we never saw adma agan after that night.'
"yea johnyn …. i know i was there." Veee said.
johnyn did not like smasher much he liked to call him MASHRE haha (like me) because vee obvously liked him better. vee was a smart man who neded someone to kepe him intrestd johnny was simply a borin rockstar terrorist. he wold nevre me as good as adam..
he looked over at the skull which lay on the shelf… … . . and had an idea.
(okay guys do u like it? i added some more long bits and i tried to make it good and post some good scifi stuff in it :) :) :) please REA DAND REVIEW
Chapter 3 – The Kill
athorus note: thnx for all the revews guyz! I really aprciate it :) btw I found some bold font on my compter so now I;m going too bold some fstuff to mke it more dramatic ::)
-presetn time-
Vee and johnny were having dinner at a resuatrant. Mama welles was theyre (it's funny because JACKIe and yea) and they were eatin g gphagetti because thats what italina people eat (or maybe mama welles is spans hi cant remember) and she brouhgt over some candles and it was nice BUT THEN
a guy with a gun crahsede through the widow and shot vee dead and he fell to the floro dead and johnny said "OH NO" and held him in his arms
a single tear dripped donw his check add it was sad. every one of the cnadels in the restuarnt was blone out. it was sad.
it was a sad day.
-back at the flat-
johnyn was stiging theye sad when all of a sudden the dore opend. in came a fmalr face- it was (dun dun dun) VEE.
"WOW SAID JOHNNY" "your mback!"
"i know" said eev "wait wat do yu o mean"
"you died"
"no i didnt" said v
"yea i didnt why do u say i did."
"because you did!"
"hmmmph" said veee
"okay" said jhonny and then he went aoutside
then he saw misty (who is uhso tarot reder) and she said johnny i need "to talk to you"
"oka" he said
mitsy said "look eve died"
"yeah i know :(" sdia johnny
"but hers here"
"yea i know" said johnny
"see what happned is when vee touched the skull he sthins he saw the futue but realy his future self was swraped with his past self so his ptas self died and his futre self lived"
"oh" said johnny. "okay"
"lok smashre is trying to kill vee's fture slef you have to help him"
johnny thought about what would happen if vee wa s a striper "I DEDUCE THAT UOU ARE SEXY" he said
"what" said mistey
"nothing okat bye" said johnny going back
futurev was there and he said "hi johnny"
"hi Veea"
-1 day later-
"okay hi" said takemura "you said you killed him but hes skill alive"
"i know" said smashr. "because he touched the skull too"
"oh no"
"yes. which means that your past self has been aresttd and is in hail right now"
"good" said tkaemura
"no not good"
"i mean tnot good " said takemura
"godo said" adam "anways we need to kill the other vea too okay"
"okay" wait no
"pahy me"
"okay i'm a pimp so i have lot of mony"
-1 day earlier-
vee touhec d the skull
-1 day later, at the flat-
John y touched the skull. (dun dun dun) (dun dun dan)
autors note: thnxs for reviwing guzy! keep it up 3! :):)
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