#you can choose whether to include him and Eddie or just Eddie or neither | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

liesyousoldme · 3 years

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the last WIP of eddie month! i saved the longest for last (it’s over 11k words lmao) and hopefully you all enjoy it even though it’s forever unfinished. this was meant to be my big bang fic and then life happened and i was never able to finish it - it even has a few plot points outlined at the end (but even those don’t take you to the actual end of the story, oop). anyway, happy eddie month everyone!

this was a fun experiment in which i combined my favorite parts of each canon - book, miniseries, and movies - into one weird amalgamation that probably only makes sense to me. there is canon-typical violence, homophobia including slurs (henry bowers), and mentions of suicide (stan lives, but it was close).

“Eddie?”

He groaned out loud, turning his computer monitor off and turning in his desk chair.

“Yeah, Ma?” He shouted.

“Eddie come down here, please,” she said, her voice traveling up the stairs. He rolled his eyes and left the home office and found her standing at the bottom of the stairs. He stood on the landing at the top, looking down at her. “Down here, Eddie.”

He fought the urge to roll his eyes again as he took the stairs two at a time.

“Eddie, stop that! You know how dangerous that is! What if you fell and broke a leg? You know how easily bone fragments travel, Eddie, you know –“

“Yeah, Ma, I know,” he answered, ignoring her demand. “What is it?”

“I wanted to let you know you have plans on Friday evening,” she told him, beady eyes staring into his own. He walked past her, squeezing by to get through the hallway and into the kitchen. It was about time for dinner anyway, he told himself, might as well make something while he was here.

“And what plans would those be, Ma?” He asked, assuming he had to take her to bingo or the pharmacy or the emergency room.

“You’ll be taking Vicky Beck to dinner.”

He turned to look at her, eyebrow raised. “Who?”

“Vicky Beck, dear,” she repeated, as if saying the name again would stoke the embers of his memory. He just looked at her blankly. She sighed, annoyance radiating off of her as she plopped down into a chair at the kitchen table. “She’s Marjorie’s daughter, Eddie. Very nice girl. Around your age, too. She’s a receptionist at one of the local doctor’s offices. I gave Marjorie a photograph of you to show her – she’s very interested.”

“No,” he said without making eye contact. He used the excuse of taking out ingredients for dinner from the pantry and refrigerator to not look at her. “I’ve told you so many times, Ma, I don’t want to date. I’m not interested.”

“Oh, Eddie,” she frowned. “I just worry! Who’s going to take care of you when I’m gone? Your health is so delicate, someone needs to be there –“

“I’m an adult, I can take care of myself,” he told her, pouring tomato sauce from a can into a pan.

“Clearly you aren’t if you think it’s okay to use canned sauce, young man!” Sonia said, standing and smacking his hand. He huffed, putting his hands up and stepping away. “You don’t even know what’s in the disgusting preservatives they use, this stuff is full of chemicals, you’ll get cancer if you eat too much of this. I’ve told you so many times to stop buying things like this. You think you’re an adult but you don’t know, you need someone to steer you right, you make terrible decisions when no one’s around to stop you…”

“Buying canned sauce is a terrible decision? I’m the one that pays for the groceries, Ma! I should get to choose what I buy!”

She glared at him. “Edward, I’m not in the mood for your foolishness. When you stop purchasing cancer and bringing it into our home then we can talk. In the meantime, you will be going out with Vicky Beck on Friday evening. You’re too old to be alone, Eddie. My own health is beginning to falter, you’re going to need someone to take my place when I pass.”

He blinked at her. “You want me to find a woman to be my new mother when you die?”

“Do not use that tone with me, young man!”

“I’m 20, I hardly think I need to be taken care of by a surrogate mom!”

“Eddie,” she said, placing a sweaty hand on his cheek. He could smell the stench of her perfume and he did his best not to wrinkle his nose. “You have always been so… strong-willed. So full of ideas. And that would be okay, were you not sick. But you are sick, Eddie. Your delicate immune system can’t handle what others can… I’ve spent your whole life making sure you don’t go too far, to get yourself sick or hurt. And that’s what I’m doing now, with Vicky. I’m protecting you, because you need protection. No matter how hard you try to fight it, it’s the truth. So. You will see Vicky on Friday, take her to an early lunch after church on Sunday, another dinner next Wednesday, and she’ll be your girlfriend in a week’s time.”

He knew his horror was evident on his face but he couldn’t do anything to stop it. “That’s ridiculous, Ma, you can’t pick out a girlfriend for me! I don’t even want a girlfriend! And you know, just because I have asthma doesn’t mean I need protection from the big bad world, okay? I take my meds and I use my inhaler and that’s all I need! I don’t even need you! All you do is smother me, and force me into things I don’t want, so –“

“You stop that right now –“

“You know what?” He said, a burst of adrenaline-fueled courage shooting through him. He left the kitchen and started back up the stairs. “I’m leaving. I can’t stand it here anymore.”

“Eddie!” She screamed, and he knew the crocodile tears were starting. He ignored them as he grabbed a suitcase and began to pack everything that would fit.

Twenty-six year old Eddie Kaspbrak answered his phone, wincing when his mother’s voice came through the tinny speaker.

“Eddie? Eddie!”

“Yes, Ma, it’s me,” he said, barely containing his annoyance.

“Eddie you have to come home,” she said, sniffling. “I’ve been put in a wheelchair, Eddie, I can’t get around like I used to. I need help, you need to come home and help me.”

He sighed, massaging his temples as he felt a stress headache blooming behind his eyes. He eyed the medicine cabinet in the kitchen that held the Advil. “I’ll hire an in-house nurse, Ma, how’s that?”

“No!” She shouted, leaving him cringing. “Those nurses don’t know what they’re doing, Eddie, they’re the rejects that the hospitals and doctors offices won’t take, and I refuse it!”

He looked around his small house. He had a spare bedroom downstairs, and he supposed it wouldn’t be too difficult to add a ramp to get through the front door. With a little bit of self-hatred settling in his stomach, he said, “I’m not coming home, but you can come live with me.”

“You’re 32, right?” Angela asked, her fingers running through the condensation on her glass. Eddie nodded, only thinking about how disgusting it was that she wasn't using a straw. (Dishes and silverware and cups at restaurants are breeding grounds for disease, Eddie, his mind mother reminded him.) “So what are you doing living with your mom?”

He huffed. “My mom lives with me, there’s a difference.”

Angela raised an eyebrow at him.

“I take care of her. She’s old and sick, she needs help with just about everything.”

“You know…” Angela trailed off, glancing around the room. They sat in a small booth in the corner of an Olive Garden only twenty minutes from Eddie’s house. He wasn’t about to pull out all the stops for a date with yet another girl his mother set him up with. “You’re not a very good date.”

His eyes widened. “Excuse me?”

She laughed a little. “I mean, sure, you’re cute, but… Nobody wants to date a guy in his thirties who lives with his mom. You probably should save that bit of information until like, date three, at least. You won’t look me in the eye, and it makes me a little nervous because you don't seem to have a problem making eye contact with anyone else. Everything about your body language screams that you don’t want to be here. With me, specifically.”

“Do you do this on all your first dates?” He asked, offended.

“Just the bad ones,” she answered. “You know, the ones with men.”

He choked.

“Oh, come on, dude, look at me,” she said, gesturing to herself. Eddie frowned; he thought her flannel and boots looked comfortable. “This look is about as gay as you can get. My mom can’t accept it; she's constantly setting me up. Usually I tell her no but she showed me a picture of you and… well, I just had to find out what your deal is.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” He asked. His face was hot.

“Eddie,” she said in a voice meant for a young child. “Your mom has a lot in common with my mom. I mean, I hate to assume, but I can almost guarantee that, just like mine, your mom is sending you on dates with the opposite sex as a very clear nudge in the right direction.”

He gaped at her, unable to form words.

She laughed, but this time it was a bit more sympathetic. “Did you not know?”

He shook his head, then reached into his pocket to take a hit on his aspirator. She raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment.

“Well, whether you are or aren’t, your mom thinks you’re gay.”

“Fuck,” he whispered to himself, heart pounding against his ribcage. “I don’t – what? Why?”

“I mean, you’re a single 32 year old, for starters. I’m assuming you’ve never had a girlfriend. Had any boyfriends you kept secret? She probably would’ve caught on.”

“I’m not – I’m not –“ He couldn’t bring himself to say the word. Angela’s expression was changing quickly from one of amusement to one of pity. She opened her mouth to say something when the waiter stopped at their table, placing their food in front of them. They began to eat in silence (Eddie had already sanitized his knife and fork), and when they started to talk again, neither of them brought it back up.

There weren’t enough people for a funeral so instead they had a simple graveside memorial service in the Bangor Cemetery. One of his aunts spoke through crocodile tears so much like hers about what a good mother Sonia had been, and Eddie’s eyes stayed dry.

After, he met his three aunts at a café for a small lunch, and they got onto him when he didn’t order salad. They got onto him because he didn’t cry during the service. They got onto him for constantly keeping his poor mother in a state of such stress. They got onto him for leaving her for New York in the first place. They got onto him for not being married at 35, for not giving his mother grandchildren before she died.

He nodded and kept his mouth closed.

There was a method to his madness, he’d swear by it. Vitamins in the morning, followed by an anxiety pill if he needed one (he always needed one), followed by breakfast, which usually consisted of eggs (he enjoyed variety, so he made his eggs differently each day of the week – Wednesday was scrambled) and wheat toast with margarine spread on one side, the crusts cut off (the crusts are too easy to choke on, his mother’s voice said from inside his head), and then brushing his teeth. He got dressed, checked his email and the weather on his phone (a sunny day, cloud-free (but you never know, storms can just crop up out of no where – best bring your boots and rain jacket and umbrella just in case, you wouldn’t want to catch a cold and end up with pneumonia just because the weather forecast was wrong) and cool), and stepped out the door of his Queens apartment.

He walked to his stop and got on the subway, used an antibacterial wipe to clean the place where his hand would be holding onto the rail (his mind mother reminded him how easy it was to catch something that way – all you have to do is rub your nose, Eddie, and suddenly you’re sick with whatever the germ-infested subway rider that stood there before you had), and held onto his phone for the 30 minute ride. He exited at the financial district and walked for 2 minutes to his office building. He used the stairs to get to the eleventh floor (take the elevator, Eddie, you don’t want to aggravate your asthma) because he liked the slight burn in his legs by the time he made it to his floor. He stopped in the bathroom to wash his hands (you have to wash your hands, Eddie, you have to), said hello to Brianne at the front desk, and sat in the chair in front of his computer in his cubicle.

The work day tended to be boring. He spent a lot of time typing up reports, and even more time responding to emails. By his lunch break, he usually felt as though his brain was going to melt out of his ears. He popped two Advil to stave off the oncoming stress headache.

He ate lunch with his co-workers – they walked together a few blocks to a deli that made great sandwiches, and though he sat with them he didn’t talk much. In the beginning he fielded a lot of questions he didn’t want to answer, but after fifteen years they knew not to ask.

Except Daniel, who had started two weeks prior.

“So, Eddie,” he said, as they sat in the break room. He gestured at Eddie’s left hand. “I see you’re not married.”

“No,” Eddie agreed, taking a bite of sandwich. He hoped it would send a solid shut the fuck up message, but Daniel kept on.

“No? You got a girlfriend, at least? You’re what – 45?”

“40,” he said, his voice clipped.

“You’re 40 and not married? That’s rough man, what’s up with that?”

Eddie breathed in deeply, hand patting his pocket to feel for his aspirator. “Just never met the right person, I suppose.”

“Not even divorced?” Daniel asked, his voice getting higher with incredulity. Eddie bristled; it felt very much like he was being made fun of, but he didn’t know what to say. It reminded him of childhood bullies, calling him names before he even knew what they meant. He'd always talked back to - well, to whoever his tormentor had been back then. Now his brain wouldn't supply him with any quippy response, any thinly veiled insult. How had he been so brazen as a kid and so timid now? He tried but he couldn't even remember much of his childhood, like everything before he was 18 and living in Bangor with his mom had a thick haze covering it.

“Never married, no girlfriend,” he said plainly, unable to come up with anything better. He looked away.

“Boyfriend, then?” Daniel said. Eddie’s stomach turned and he flushed.

“I’m single, Daniel,” he said, before wrapping what was left of his sandwich (almost all of it) and standing. “I’m going to have lunch at my desk today, if you don’t mind.”

He didn’t wait for an answer before leaving the room, ignoring Daniel’s exclamations of “I wasn’t trying to upset him!”

He sat at his desk, fuming. He could hear the voice of someone he’d been out with once, laughing in his head.

Your mom thinks you’re gay.

But he wasn’t. And it wasn’t that strange for someone to be 40 and single. He knew plenty of people his age that weren’t married! Granted, most of them were divorced, but the point stood. Marriage wasn’t everything. Love wasn’t everything. He’d made it on his own for 40 years, and besides that he wasn’t interested in anyone. Couldn’t remember ever liking anyone enough to do anything about it. He could recognize when women were attractive, but it didn’t go beyond that. Can’t a man live alone with no romantic relationship and not get shit for it?

“Hey, Eddie,” said a voice from behind him. He spun in his chair. Jeanine stood there, a regretful frown on her red lips. “I’m so sorry about Daniel back there. Apparently he’s the type that doesn’t know when to shut up.”

(Your mom thinks you’re gay)

“A lot of that going around,” Eddie said, trying to ignore the voice in his head telling him to ask Jeanine out. He couldn’t even tell if it was his mother or someone else. It wasn’t his own voice, though.

Jeanine smiled awkwardly, like she wasn’t sure what he meant. “Right. Hopefully you’ll still eat with us tomorrow. We told Daniel to cool it.”

“No worries,” Eddie lied. “I needed to get some work done anyway.”

Jeanine glanced over his shoulder at his computer that he hadn’t turned back on. “Of course. And I wanted to let you know… This office is very accepting. There’s no… Judgment here. Just… So you know.”

Eddie pulled his aspirator from his pocket and took a hit.

(You’re sick, Eddie, you’re delicate, but I can protect you from yourself, a wife could protect you from yourself, you’ll always be sick but)

“Thank you for the sentiment, Jeanine,” he said, turning back in his chair. He heard her walk away and sagged against the backrest. Moments later, his phone rang.

He picked it up and frowned at the area code. Derry, Maine? He was… He was from there, wasn’t he? That was where he’d lived with his mother before they moved to Bangor. Derry was the town covered with thick haze that he couldn't completely conceptualize.

He answered the call with his heart in his throat, unsure why his hands were shaking so badly.

“Edward Kaspbrak speaking.”

“Eddie?” The voice said. He didn’t recognize it. “Eddie, it’s Mike. You need to come home. It’s back.”

The haze began to lift.

“I’m glad you made it, Eddie,” Mike said, offering a hug. Eddie warily wrapped his arms around Mike before glancing around the restaurant.

“If I’d remembered more before I got on the plane, I probably wouldn’t have,” he said honestly. Once he started getting flashes of a rotting leper, of a decrepit house, of a clown’s drool on his face, he wanted to turn right back around.

“How much do you remember?” Mike asked.

Just before he could answer, another voice joined them.

“Hey, guys.” Eddie turned and smiled. He would recognize Bill Denbrough anywhere (though he hadn't, had he? He owned his books, had seen his picture on the back cover, and he'd never thought twice about it). He stepped away after another hug, letting the other two catch up. He stood looking into the large fish tank, anything to get a reprieve from the memories that were hitting him, and then jumped when something hit the large gong next to their table. He spun, his eyes catching on red hair first. Beverly was smiling, and another man stood next to her, tall and thin and handsome, and somehow Eddie knew it was –

“Ben?”

“That was my reaction!” Beverly said with a laugh.

“You acknowledge Ben before you acknowledge me? Some kind of best friend you are, Eds.”

“Don’t call me Eds,” he said, the words spilling from his mouth without thought. He looked to Richie, wearing an ugly mustard color shirt beneath a leather jacket. He wore glasses much like the ones he’d worn in childhood, though they magnified his eyes a little less, and his hair was messy. He'd seen Richie's face, too, on a Netflix special he'd felt oddly compelled to watch. “You actually became a comedian.”

Richie’s cheeks turned pink and he took a few steps closer, hands in his pockets.

“I mean,” Eddie continued, “It’s not ventriloquism but not half-bad!”

Richie laughed loudly, his head thrown back. “Fuck, even I forgot I wanted to be a ventriloquist!”

“You would’ve made a terrible ventriloquist, Rich. Eddie was just too nice to tell you.”

They turned at the new voice, smiling at the curly hair and sweater.

“Stanley!”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said through a smile. After Eddie felt like he’d hugged everyone twice, they took their seats. He sat between Richie and Ben, right across from Bill. Stan was on Richie’s other side, already talking about his accounting firm and his wife Patty.

“She sounds lovely,” Beverly said with a smile.

“You’re not married?” He asked, pointing to her left hand.

She frowned, touching her ring finger. “Uh, technically I am. I guess I kind of… left him?”

Eddie’s eyes widened.

Beverly shrugged, waving them off. “It’s fine! What about everyone else? Anyone else married?”

“I am,” Bill said. “Her name’s Audra; you guys would probably recognize her if you saw her –“

“Oh shit, she’s that movie star!” Richie said loudly. “And you’re an author, I’ve totally bought your books before, dude!”

“I have, too,” Eddie admitted. He hadn’t known why he bought them at the time, but it had felt like something he needed to do. He thought he might even own a jacket from Rogue & Marsh.

“Nobody else is married? What about you, Ben?”

“No,” Ben said, cheeks pink.

“But dude, you’re so hot, how are you single?” Richie said, punching a shocked laugh from Eddie’s chest.

Ben rolled his eyes playfully. “I mean, I’m not lonely by any means –“

Richie cut him off to whoop loudly.

“Anyway, what about you, Trashmouth?”

“Nope!”

“Divorce?” Bill asked with a smirk.

“I’m offended, Big Bill. No, no divorce. Haven’t had a serious relationship in… probably fifteen years. Kinda hard to hold anything down when you’re touring all the time.”

“Makes sense,” Beverly agreed, before her eyes met Eddie’s. He groaned. “What about you, Eddie?”

“Uh, no marriage, no divorce, very boring. Next.”

“No way, Eds, you can’t get off the hook that easy!” Richie exclaimed. “C’mon, when was your last relationship?”

Eddie looked down at the table. “Haven’t really had one. I was never really interested.”

The table had quieted, like Eddie had dropped a blanket of discomfort on all of them.

“It’s not a big deal,” he said, finally looking back up. He could feel Richie’s eyes burning a hole in the side of his head but he didn’t look. “I like living alone. I have friends at work and I always have nice chats with the pharmacist and... Look, it’s not like I’m lonely, okay? It’s fine. I’m fine.”

The conversation moved on quickly, Eddie’s discomfort obvious to everyone. Richie kept looking at him as though he were a puzzle, and as soon as the waitress returned to their table Eddie ordered himself a shot of whiskey and a bottle of beer, not even thinking about the fact that he would be drinking straight from the glass and don't you know, Eddie, dishes and silverware and cups at restaurants are a breeding ground for germs! Now that he'd remembered his asthma was fake, his aspirator a placebo, he felt like he could count the hours wasted on sanitization and worry about his delicate system. It made him boil with anger, that she had taken so much from him while giving him so many issues. He didn't want to waste more time. His system was fine.

The night was long and draining, as much a reunion as it was a horror show. He was almost positive he remembered everything now, as did the others, and Mike claimed to have a plan. For now, though, they had some time to sleep. No point in heading into Neibolt exhausted, Bill had said with a shrug, and everyone had agreed. Eddie was finding it hard to sleep, though, with images of the leper running through his mind -

I’ll blow you for free

- And leaving him terrified and shaking. He thought back to being a kid, the same fear had kept him up at night then, too. He remembered talking to Richie about it as they read comics in the room above the Kaspbrak house garage, and Richie admitting he was having trouble sleeping, too. Kept seeing the werewolf, his own name written on It’s letterman jacket.

He turned the bedside lamp on and picked up the phone without bothering to sanitize it even as his mind mother screamed at him. He looked at the directory and tried to remember which room was Richie’s. He was almost positive it was 207, one floor down and one over from his own, so he dialed the extension and waited. As the ringing sounded in his ear, someone knocked heavily on his door.

His heart seized up in his chest and he grabbed his aspirator from the side table and took a hit, even though he knew it was a placebo.

“Who is it?”

“Eddie Kaspbrak?” A male voice from just outside the door said. “There’s an urgent message for you at the front desk.”

“Hello?” Richie’s sleepy voice said in his ear. He sighed in relief, not answering him yet.

“A message from who?” He asked loudly.

“What are you talking about – Eddie?”

“A message from… Your wife,” the voice said, and Eddie froze.

“Uh, one second,” he said to the person on the other side of the door, then lowered his voice and spoke into the phone. “Rich, someone’s at my door saying I have a message from my wife.”

“You don’t have a wife,” Richie said, confused.

Eddie huffed. “Yeah, exactly!”

“Oh, fuck,” Richie said, and Eddie could hear shuffling on his end of the phone. Then, another noise, somehow both quiet and the loudest thing he’d ever heard. He watched with wide eyes as the lock on his door turned slowly until it clicked.

He opened his mouth to tell Richie whoever it was at his door had a key and to hurry the fuck up, but the line was beeping like Richie had already hung up. Slowly, he shoved the blankets off, putting his feet securely on the floor. He glanced around for something he could use to defend himself. A lamp? The phone? Why the fuck hadn’t he brought a knife or a gun to this clown fight?

The door slammed open, hitting the wall and revealing a man in a tattered jumpsuit. He had a knife in his hand.

Panic seized Eddie’s chest. The irrational part of his brain wanted to grab his aspirator for another puff but he knew it would be his last, so instead, without thinking it through, he charged forward as fast as he could, throwing his weight against the door as it bounced off the wall and back toward the man.

Both men screamed. Eddie out of pure adrenaline and fear, some part of him wondering why the fuck he’d done that, and the other man because his foot and arm were smashed in between the door and the frame. Eddie kept his weight against the door knowing he didn’t have a lot of time; he didn’t weigh much, and this guy seemed particularly strong. He looked at the hand holding the knife, the small rivulets of blood dripping where the edge of the door had cut into the skin, and he grabbed a hold of it with both hands, trying to pry meaty fingers from the handle without cutting himself.

He didn’t manage it before the man pushed back with his own full body weight, throwing Eddie to the ground. He landed with a muted thud on his back and the man pushed into the room, spotting Eddie immediately. In the brief eye contact, Eddie realized with certain clarity that this man was Henry Bowers.

Henry Bowers, who had held him down and broken his arm with his bare hands. Henry Bowers, who had punched him in the nose more times than he could count. Henry Bowers, who had beaten Richie up again and again, who had mocked Bill’s stutter and Stan’s religion. Henry Bowers, who left even Beverly, the strongest of them, trembling. Henry Bowers, who had killed Mike’s dog.

Eddie’s eyes flitted to the knife in his hand and a chill ran down his spine. Just yesterday he couldn't remember this man's name, but he remembered he used to fight back.

As a kid, he fought back against Henry Bowers, who somehow had the same knife he’d used to carved Ben open, the same knife with which he’d murdered his own father.

Henry lunged at Eddie, still on the floor. He kicked upward, one foot landing in the soft pudge of Henry’s stomach, the other his groin. Henry didn’t seem to notice, which left Eddie feeling terrified – what if this wasn’t Henry at all? What if this was something much, much worse?

“How ya doin’, little queer boy?” Henry asked, his voice hardly having changed at all. “Ready to get all cut up? Teach you to throw rocks!”

Eddie kept his foot wedged against Henry’s stomach, though the weight of him was causing a steady throb down his leg. Moving quickly, he pulled his other foot back and kicked again, this time aiming for the hand with the knife. Henry seemed taken off guard but he didn’t drop the knife, just leaned more of his weight onto Eddie’s leg. He cried out, giving in and planting his other foot against Henry’s stomach to hold him back. Henry didn’t seem to mind that he was leaning all his weight against Eddie’s feet, hovering over him like a ghost.

“Not quite strong enough, are ya, fag?”

Eddie grimaced - the first time Henry called him that, he hadn't even known what a fag was.

Henry brought the knife closer, almost able to reach Eddie’s face. With fear stronger than he’d felt in a long time thrumming through his veins, he grabbed Henry’s wrist with both hands, pushing him back. He let his fingernails dig into the place where the door had cut him, and Henry screamed, finally dropping the knife. Eddie glanced to his left and saw it, and with one hand still gripping into Henry’s wounded arm he reached over and grabbed it, plunging it upward into Henry’s chest just above where his feet held him up.

Henry’s eyes widened and Eddie sobbed as blood dripped onto his hand where he held the handle of the knife. He yanked it back out but Henry had become dead weight and his legs crumbled beneath it. He yelled, and then heard another voice.

“What the fuck!”

“Rich, help,” he said, hardly able to breathe under Henry’s weight. He was still wriggling, but Eddie kept a tight grip on the knife. Then Henry’s weight was being lifted a bit and Eddie helped, shoving until he landed on his back next to Eddie, blood seeping into the front of his shirt. Eddie stabbed again, but Henry caught the blow with his hand, and Eddie screamed as the blade sliced through the rough palm. Henry stared up at him, with a look that Eddie could almost describe as confused.

“Eds, Eds, what’s –“

“It’s Bowers,” he shouted, finally gathering the nerve to rip the knife out of Henry’s hand. Henry yelled and swung, smacking Eddie in the side and knocking the breath out of him. His uninjured hand came at him curled in a fist and managed to land on his eye. He stumbled backward a little on his knees, eyes closed against the blow, and without looking plunged the knife down again. Henry’s shrill scream and Richie’s Jesus fucking Christ oh my God oh my God let him know whatever he hit wasn't pretty but it wasn’t enough to be fatal.

A final time, he lifted the knife and opened his eyes. Henry’s face was covered in gushing blood, what was left of his eyeball hanging out of the socket. Eddie felt the Chinese food he’d eaten threaten to make a reappearance. From the corner of his eye he saw Henry’s arm begin to move and he flinched, not ready for another hit, but then Richie’s foot slammed the hand into the ground and Eddie plunged the knife back into Henry’s chest, over what he was pretty sure was his heart.

He pulled the knife out and threw it on the ground. It slid across the floor and stopped beneath the TV stand. Eddie pulled himself off of Henry, uncaring if he was still alive; if he was, Richie could deal with it. His own head spun, pain radiated down his legs, and his eye socket throbbed. He fell onto the bed with his eyes closed. For a moment he only heard the slight noise of movement from Richie, and then:

“Holy fuck, dude, you fucking killed him.”

Eddie let out a long breath of relief before saying, “don’t say it like that. It was self-defense.”

“Well obviously,” Richie agreed, and then threw up. The sound and smell made Eddie’s stomach turn again, and he leaned over the bed, grabbed the wastebasket, and lost his own dinner.

They had migrated to Richie's room, after a brief talk with the rest of the losers to inform them of what happened. Everyone was appropriately horrified and offered to come sit with them for the rest of the night, but Eddie insisted he just wanted to sleep and he wanted to do it in a room without a dead body. Richie had offered his own, promising to keep quiet so Eddie could get some rest.

Eddie had been unable to sleep, though. By the rigidness of Richie beside him, he was sure he wasn't the only one.

"So what's it like, being famous?" He said quietly into the darkness. He felt Richie jolt and he apologized with a laugh.

"No, it's fine, uh," Richie sighed. Eddie felt the comforter jostle like he was resituating himself. "I dunno, honestly. Kind of boring? I mean, don't get me wrong, in the early days I partied a lot. Slept around, got into things I shouldn't have. But… being clean and telling jokes you didn't even write? Kinda shit, not gonna lie."

"God, I fucking knew you didn't write your own shit," Eddie said. "I don't even know how I knew, but I'd watch all your stupid specials and like, be annoyed at myself because this guy is so obviously a fraud, why the fuck do I religiously watch everything he puts out?"

"Could have been my charming good looks," Richie joked, and Eddie felt his cheeks heat up.

"Definitely not that," Eddie said with a hollow laugh. "Apparently somehow I just knew you were my best friend and I was pissed because I know you're so much funnier than the shit you say onstage."

"Oh," Richie said. Eddie squeezed his eyes shut. He didn't know how to fucking do this. How do you have conversations with people that aren't too much but don't feel like fucking small talk? Richie was his best friend once upon a time, would've been his best friend their whole lives if Derry hadn't fucked them up.

But would they have been? Would they have been best friends if they'd grown up together? Navigated their early twenties together? Would he have dropped Richie the second he got into whatever shit he got into in LA? Would Richie have dropped him when he realized Eddie was fucking boring, with a desk job and a mother he couldn't escape? Would he have been just another person shoving him on dates with girls he didn't want to date? Another person asking why he wasn't married yet? Another person to think -

Your mom thinks you're gay.

He bit his lip. He couldn't think about that right now, not when their literal lives were on the line. He'd been putting off his sexuality crisis for years, it could wait another 24 hours.

Because that's what it was, and he knew it. He remembered the feelings from being a kid. He remembered the swooping sensation in his stomach, the blushing, the constant need to be the center of Richie's attention. He didn't think he knew what it was back then, but now? Now he knew what all those things meant. He knew what they meant when he felt them sitting next to Richie at dinner, and now, laying next to him in bed.

But that was for a later date, if he even made it to a later date.

All Eddie could hear in the room was the whirr of the air conditioner, Richie's breathing right next to him, and his own heart pounding in his ears. He closed his eyes, willing himself to relax enough to even doze, but the quiet was broken when Richie cleared his throat.

"Yeah?" Eddie asked, when Richie didn't follow up with anymore sounds.

"I just - " He sighed. "You remember how we thought… When we were kids… That some of our power, or whatever, came from the lucky seven? None of us could have hurt It on our own but we could together, and we worked together and we all loved each other and looked out for each other."

"Yeah, I remember that."

"I don't feel like we're the lucky seven anymore," Richie admitted. Eddie didn't know what to say. "We're not… Together… the way we used to be. We were like one single unit back then. Even with Ben and Bev and Mike, we'd barely met them but they just fit with us. And now we just feel like…"

"Like seven adults who haven't spoken in over 20 years?" Eddie finished for him.

"Yeah." Richie's voice was sad. "We're not kids anymore, you know? And we don't know each other. Eds, I don't think we can even say we're friends anymore."

"That's not true," he argued, turning his head on his pillow to see the outline of Richie's face in the dark. He wasn't wearing his glasses but he was facing the ceiling. Eddie couldn't tell if his eyes were open or closed. "We all fell right back into old habits at dinner! It was like nothing's changed."

"But it has changed!" Richie said, his voice rising a little. Eddie jostled when Richie pushed himself up, sitting on the bed with his head in his hands. Eddie stared at him and chewed on his lip. "God, are you telling me you still act like that as an adult? I can just look at you and tell you're not somebody who trades sarcastic insults with anyone. And I don't still joke about fucking people's mothers and I don't constantly slip into shitty Voices all the time and I don't just fucking make fun of people like an asshole! But we both - we both regressed! Like, some shit happened when we got back together and all of a sudden we were both shitty little teenagers again! All of us! Bill's stutter came back, for fuck's sake! Ben's an awkward fucking mess around Bev, as though that guy isn't swimming in pussy right now -"

"That's fucking gross, Richie," Eddie muttered, pushing himself against the wall.

"I'm just saying," Richie continued, "that we all get along as 13 year olds. Not as the people we are now."

"That's - " Eddie paused and blinked hard, surprised to find his eyes filling with tears. "It's just because that's how we're used to acting with each other. If we all spent time together again I bet we'd end up acting more like who we are now."

Richie scoffed. "Eddie, who you are now would hate who I am now."

"I wouldn't hate you." He reached out hesitantly, rested his hand on Richie's broad back. "Why do you think I'd hate you?"

"You - You hate getting dirty! And you dress like you're ninety, your hair is like, combed, and you've clearly never used a drug in your life. You -"

"I'm gonna stop you, dude." Eddie readjusted himself so he was sitting facing Richie, who's blue eyes were clearer than ever without his glasses on, even in the dark. "The actual regression I experienced was turning back into the person I was before that summer, before I found out about my asthma. The scared kid who carried a fanny pack full of disinfectant wipes became a scared adult who kept disinfectant wipes in his briefcase and Advil in his pocket right next to his aspirator. I have been alone for the last 20 years. And I've wasted so much time being the delicate child my mother wanted me to be. Who I was at 13 is more me than who I am at 40. And I think - I think that's why we all regressed the way we did. Because we were happy together, at 13, and I don't think any of us are happy now."

Richie stayed quiet.

"Well," Eddie amended, "except for Stan. But he acted like an adult as a kid, so I don't think that counts. Anyway, I don't give a shit about what you've done in your past. I lived with my mother until she died in my mid-thirties. I've never had -" He cut himself off, feeling his face heat up. "Never mind. The point is that we are still the same people we were at 13. The people we've been for the last 20 years? That wasn't really us. This is us. Lucky seven."

"Okay," Richie whispered. Eddie ignored the way he swallowed thickly. "I think I - I think I'm just scared. Just going over every single way we could fail. And even - even if you're right about us, how we're all still the same… There's so much about each other we don't know. We don't really know much about how we've each spent the last two decades. Or where we've worked, where we've lived, who we've fucked. It's like we're strangers…"

Eddie cleared his throat, willing his blush to disappear. "Maybe… Okay, this might sound stupid, so if you laugh afterward, I'm giving myself permission to hit you."

Richie snorted. "Alright, go ahead."

"We should find a way for all of us to know each other again. So we're not strangers. We should be the strongest version of the losers club when we go into the sewers, right? Losers club doesn't have secrets. Maybe we - you know, we bond with each other again. By telling each other stuff. You know?"

"Are you saying you want to sit in a circle and tell each other secrets?"

Eddie huffed. "Essentially, yes."

Richie laughed a little but held his hands up in surrender. "I'm not laughing at you! Just - I mean, why not? It couldn't hurt. Maybe we could re-do the blood pact, too?"

Eddie grimaced. "Yeah, Rich, let's physically weaken ourselves before we go fight a demon space alien. That's a super good idea."

"Well you don't have to be mean about it, dickhead."

Eddie laughed and shook his head. "How about, if we all live, we'll -"

"If we all live?! Don't say shit like that man!"

"I've already killed a man, Richie, I don't think death is completely off the table."

"Fuck, you killed a man." Richie sounded awed and a little scared.

"And you were very helpful, by the way." Eddie smirked.

"Listen, Eds, you've always been the brave one, we all know that, Mr. This is Battery Acid."

"I think I called It Fucknuts, too," Eddie recalled. He remembered spraying his aspirator at It, but even still he couldn't picture It clearly. "Do you remember what It looked like? It's real form, not any of the glamours."

Richie paused. "I don't - I don't think so? I just - I remember the eye in the sewers. When we all stood around like idiots and you screamed at us to step the fuck up. But other than that…"

Eddie remembered that, too. He'd lost his shoe in the eye, kicking it and screaming at the others to help him. It almost shocked him, to remember himself as being brave. But he had been. He'd attacked first, both the eye and… Whatever It became, in the end. His aspirator had really hurt It.

"I wonder if we really saw It…" Eddie said. Another memory had hit him, one of Richie holding a baseball bat, of Bill trapped under Pennywise's arm. "I think - I think we hurt It while It was the clown. Maybe that's - maybe part of why It didn't die is because it was still using a glamour. It escaped before we hurt it enough to see the true form."

"That's - I mean, it was weird that Pennywise just bolted…"

"And Richie?" He reached out again, a little more confident, and touched Richie's arm. The contact made his chest clench. "You're brave, too. Don't you remember? Now I'm gonna have to kill this fucking clown."

Richie laughed quietly. "I hadn't remembered that until you said it."

Eddie hadn't remembered the battery acid or the eye until Richie brought them up, either. He wondered if it was because neither of them were the kind of people who looked for the good in themselves, and if there were other things they'd done that they could be proud of and just hadn't remembered yet. He hoped so. He hoped they still had some of that bravery left.

Richie flopped back down, head hitting the pillow as he released a loud sigh. Eddie followed suit, his face warming when he realized Richie had landed closer than he was before. They weren’t touching, but he could feel the heat from Richie’s arm only inches from him.

“We should probably try to sleep before… Well, we should try to sleep.” Richie’s voice had quieted. Eddie could barely hear him over the whirr of the air conditioner. “Goodnight.”

“Night, Rich,” he murmured. He hoped Richie couldn’t hear the fondness in his voice over the sound of the AC. He breathed in deeply and closed his eyes. He was asleep in minutes.

Three short knocks on the door woke Eddie a few hours later. His left side was warm and he mindlessly moved into the heat before his muddled and tired mind remembered it was Richie next to him, still sleeping with breaths so loud it could almost be called a snore. Light poured in through the window so that Eddie could see Richie’s relaxed face, and staring down at the other man distracted him enough that he jolted at the sound of more knocks.

“Rich? Eddie? W-w-wake up, we’re meeting d-d-d-downstairs in twenty!” Bill’s voice drifted through the door and Eddie sighed, sitting up and shaking Richie’s shoulder.

“Mph,” Richie said, rolling away from Eddie.

“Wake up, didn’t you hear Bill?”

“Was ignoring him,” Richie answered bluntly. Eddie rolled his eyes and got up, heading toward the door just as Bill began to knock again.

“Hey,” he said, opening the door to find Bill’s fist mid-air. “We’ll be down soon, but can I talk to you first?”

Bill nodded, and Eddie closed the door behind them.

“Rich and I were talking last night and… Well, we were talking about how we don’t really feel like the lucky seven anymore. We’ve lost some of the connection we had as kids, and that connection is a huge part of why we survived last time. I just think – We think we should do something to bond again, like how we bonded at the Jane but… More. Maybe – Maybe we could go downstairs and just… share things about ourselves. You know, the kind of important things you share with your closest friends.”

Bill’s eyebrows had risen and Eddie bit his lip awkwardly. If Bill didn’t go for it, it wasn’t going to happen, and something in Eddie’s chest told him it needed to happen if they were going to survive.

Finally Bill shrugged. “I m-m-m-mean, it couldn’t hurt.”

“Right,” Eddie agreed. “So… If you could let everyone know what’s going on? We’ll meet you downstairs soon. I’m probably going to have to physically yank Richie out of bed, so…”

Bill nodded. “That’s fine. I’ll see y-y-you down there s-s-soon.”

Eddie thanked him and went back into the room, surprised to see the bed empty and the bathroom door closed. He sighed in relief that Richie had gotten himself up and went to his suitcase to pull out clean clothes. Richie finished in the restroom quickly and they switched, Eddie hurrying through his morning routine and dressing, anxious to get downstairs.

He stepped out of the bathroom without looking up, his pajamas folded in his hands, and after a few steps toward his suitcase he raised his head, confused by the silence.

He swallowed thickly at the sight of Richie standing in the middle of the room in just jeans, the hem of his boxers visible, the trail of hair leading down into his boxers all Eddie could see.

“Sorry,” he choked, looking away as quickly as he could force his head to move, feeling the heat light up his cheeks. He cursed himself in his head, power walking the rest of the way to his suitcase and focusing all his energy on making sure all his things were placed neatly and organized inside, trying not to think about Richie, half-naked, a few feet away.

He could hear Richie clear his throat behind him, but his voice still came out strained. “No worries.”

Eddie nodded without looking up. His hands were clenched into fists.

“Um,” Richie said awkwardly, when Eddie didn’t move. Eddie let out a breath and stood up, turning to face Richie, only to find himself again faced with a bare-chested Richie.

“What the fuck!”

“Sorry!” Richie said, not moving.

“Put your fucking shirt on!”

“Right.”

Richie bent over to reach into his suitcase and Eddie stared with his mouth open at the way the muscles in his arms moved, the way his back arched. He realized as he stared that there was no longer any attempts at denying his sexuality. This was it. He couldn’t look away as Richie pulled a shirt over his head. His cheeks were still hot and he waited for some joke from Richie, something like take a picture, it’ll last longer, or like what you see, Eds?, but Richie remained quiet.

“So,” Eddie said once Richie was fully dressed. “We’re meeting the others downstairs.”

“To share secrets?”

“Shut up,” Eddie said, walking out the door. They could hear the chatter of the others as they headed down stairs, and Eddie realized without surprise they were the last to make it down.

“Hey!” Beverly greeted. “Good thing you’re here, we were about to start without you.”

“Actually we already finished without you,” Stanley said, sly grin on his face. “Guess you guys don’t get to be part of the club anymore.”

"How dare you, Stanley," Richie said, skipping over to plop onto the floor next to Stan's spot on the couch. Beverly and Ben sat on the loveseat while Bill, Mike, and Stan took up the couch. There was a single armchair waiting, empty, between Richie's spot on the floor and Ben and Beverly, and Eddie took his spot.

"We decided Bill will go first," Mike said, and Eddie nodded. It made sense in a way he couldn't explain. Of course Bill would go first. Bill would always go first.

"So," Bill started, then stopped. He cleared his throat and turned his face to the floor. Eddie bit his lip nervously, his heart beginning to beat faster as he waited for Bill's secret. "I wasn't s-sick. The day G-G-G-Georgie died. He - he wanted me to go out and p-p-p-play with him, but I didn't - I didn't want to. It wasn't that I didn't l-l-l-love him, or -"

"It wasn't your fault," Beverly said to him. "Nobody could've known what would happen."

Bill's face was red but he didn't cry. His eyes were resolute as he looked around at each of them. "I feel so g-g-guilty for what I d-d-did. And I feel g-g-g-guilty that I hadn't th-th-thought about G-Georgie in over 20 years."

"Pennywise wiped our memories, man, that's not -"

"I knew I had a l-l-little brother thatd-d- died. I knew his n-n-name, how old he w-was. And it was like… I d-d-didn't care. It d-d-didn't m-m-mean anything. I re-re-re-remembered him and it didn't m-mean anything."

"Fuck that," Richie said suddenly. "Seriously, Bill, fuck that shit. You didn't really remember Georgie, because if you did you would've spent the last 27 years feeling like you feel right now. We all know it. It's not your fault you didn't remember and it's not your fault he died."

"I know you probably don't believe that," Eddie added, "but it's true. None of it was your fault. And you're the one who led us to beat Pennywise the first time. You ended the cycle early, man. You saved lives."

Bill shook his head, still avoiding meeting anyone's eyes. "W-W-We all did that."

"Then maybe we should all get a pat on the back for it," Ben suggested. "We all did something that saved who knows how many lives. We should all - you know, give ourselves credit for it."

Eddie thought back to the night before, discussing all the things with Richie that he hadn't remembered doing. All the moments he was brave, strong, powerful. How he and Richie didn't remember them because they struggled to see their own strength.

"I agree," he said, nodding to Ben. "We all need to give ourselves more credit for what we did. Yeah, It came back, but we stopped it back then. The killings, they stopped. We were all brave as fuck, guys. And we can be brave as fuck again."

"I don't recall being brave as fuck," Stan said quietly. "I only remember being terrified out of my mind."

"That's what being brave is, though," Mike told him. "Doing something even when it scares you. And you're being brave right now, just by being here, Stanley. All of you are. We're all terrified but we're all here, and that, as Eddie so eloquently put it, is brave as fuck."

"Well said." Beverly smiled softly. "You should go next, Mike."

Mike looked surprised for a moment, eyes widening a bit, but he quickly nodded, shuffling in his seat.

"Well," he started, looking around at each of them. "I guess you know I've kept up with each of you, but not - not quite the extent that I've kept up with you. I've read all of Bill's books and seen every movie adaptation. I've seen every television appearance Richie's ever made. I've read every article ever written about Ben. I've driven up to Bangor a few times, to one of those fancy department stores, just to see Bev's clothes in person. Couldn't afford to buy anything, but -"

The group paused as an uncomfortable undercurrent swept through the room. Eddie noticed he wasn't the only one who wouldn't meet Mike's eyes.

"Don't be weird about it," Mike said with a soft sigh. "It is what it is. And this - this tension, this discomfort… That's what Eddie's talking about. To be the Lucky Seven we have to push through what makes us uncomfortable. You guys can't walk on eggshells around me anytime finances come up. We can't walk on eggshells around each other at all. This is the point of this. We've got to share the hard shit, too."

Eddie didn't know what to say, so he kept his mouth shut. He looked up, though, and Mike was giving a comforting smile to them all. Eddie breathed in deeply and let it out slowly as Bill agreed with Mike, and the awkward tension began to dissipate.

"Anyway," Mike continued, "it's been hard to be the one to stay here. I won't lie, there were so many times over the years that I thought about calling one of you. And there were times over the years that I even resented you guys a little, for being able to leave. But this was what I was meant to do. This was my job. I accepted that, and I'm okay with it. I've made my peace with it."

"I'm sorry you had to stay here, Mike," Ben said. Mike just shrugged good-naturedly.

"Well, if we're going to be talking about the uncomfortable shit, maybe I should go next." Eddie raised his eyebrows at the bluntness in Bev's voice. She huffed a short laugh. "I mean - I mentioned leaving my husband at dinner but… There's so much more to it. He - Well. I'll start with - I have one very close friend. Her name's Kay, and I've known her a long time. And it's… it's funny, you know, when someone knows you, how they can see through your bullshit? Kay can see through my bullshit. But she never called me on it. Don't get me wrong, she told me to leave him for years, before we were ever even married, but she never… She had to have known, you know?"

Eddie swallowed thickly as Bev rambled, her voice catching a few times. His hands balled up into fists, a response to the anger that was slowly building inside his chest as Beverly spoke.

"But I'm glad she never brought it up because… I don't know how to talk about it, especially with someone who never met… Well, someone who never met my father. I didn't know how to talk about the shame I feel for running from my abusive father into the arms of an abusive husband. I don't know why I did it. I don't know why I stay."

Tears were dripping down her cheeks now, and Eddie had the urge to reach over and hold her hand, but Ben already had an arm around her shoulders and Stan was clutching her hand.

"Anyway, I - I left him. I had to… He didn't want me to. And part of me is… so fucking scared that I'm going to go right back to him after Derry."

"That's n-not going to h-h-happen, Bev," Bill said quickly, leaning closer to her to put a comforting hand on her knee. "We won't l-let you."

“It shouldn’t be like that. Isn’t it the same thing? Putting my wellbeing in the hands of yet another man? Trusting in you guys to keep me from going? It needs to be my own decision, and it needs to come from my own strength.”

No one spoke for a moment. Eddie watched as Beverly wiped her tears with her free hand. Finally, Ben turned to face her and said, “we won’t make the decision for you, but no matter what you decide we’ll be there to support you. Obviously we all want you to be safe and not go back to him, but no one here is your keeper. We just love you and want the best for you. And if you leave you won’t be alone. We’ll all be there for you.”

The others murmured their agreements and Bev smiled through her tears, thanking them quietly.

"I'll go next," Stan offered, raising his hand a little. "I… Well, I guess I'm sort of Twitter famous? I've got a blue checkmark and everything."

"I'm sorry?" Richie asked, voice rising in pitch. "It took me two years to get a fucking checkmark and they gave one to you?!"

Stanley shrugged. "I had a commercial for my accounting business go viral."

No one said anything. Eddie stared blankly at Stan as though he'd grown a second head.

Stan huffed. "Patty and I made a commercial when I first started the company. We filmed it ourselves because we didn't have money to hire anyone and it was just - it was just me at my desk, and Patty standing next to me. And I'm just talking, you know, about why people should choose me as their accountant. But Patty apparently found it absolutely hilarious because she kept, like, laughing - snorting while I was talking. And in my head I'm thinking, there's no way we're going to use this, this is ridiculous, and I smile at the end - well, Patty says it's a grimace but what's the difference, really? - and Patty, completely unscripted, yells "call Uris Accounting for all your accounting needs!" and then I started laughing. Anyway, she posted it on Facebook without telling me and it went viral -"

"Holy fuck, I've seen that!" Richie yelled, throwing his hands up. "It's - there's a YouTube video, one of those compilations, called 'People Breaking and Laughing on Camera (Almost Entirely Richie Tozier Laughing at His Own Jokes)'! We're in the same compilation YouTube video!"

"You have the name of the video memorized?" Eddie asked. Richie laughed.

"That's terrible news," Stan said. Richie laughed harder. "Anyway, now the company's Twitter has thousands of followers who think my deadpan humor and random observations are hilarious. My actual secret is that I don't actually write any of it - Patty does. She's the funny one but she isn't a big fan of too much attention so people think it's me."

"Aw, it's okay, Stan, Richie doesn't write his jokes, either," Ben said with a grin. Eddie laughed, watching happily as Richie began to yell indignantly.

It took a few minutes for the group to calm down. Eddie sat and soaked it in, trying to ignore the twisting in his gut that told him this lighthearted fun was going to end soon. That they may never get this feeling back again.

"Anyway," Stan said finally. "Patty's very funny. She calls my car The Sedanley."

"Aw," Bev cooed, grinning. "That's cute! You guys sound really happy together."

"We are," Stan agreed, his cheeks pink. "Anyway, who's next? Eddie?"

Eddie's stomach clenched and he bit his lip. He cleared his throat, finding a spot on the floor to stare at so he could avoid the eyes of his friends. This was his idea in the first place, he certainly couldn't back out now.

"Before I say anything, I just want to say I've never told anyone this, and it's… Well, it's quite embarrassing and I'd really appreciate you all not making fun of me."

"W-We'd never m-m-make fun of you," Bill assured him immediately. Eddie gave him an incredulous look. Bill laughed a little. "Okay, f-f-fair enough, we d-definitely would. B-B-But wew- won't! You can t-t-tell us."

"Yeah," Eddie muttered. He took a few deep breaths and opened his mouth. “I’ve never… you know, done it. Like…” His eyes darted around at each of them and his cheeks pinked. He lowered his voice to a whisper, “Sex.”

Stan laughed. “Clearly, if you feel like you have to whisper the word sex.”

“We promised no laughing! Nobody laughed at your stupid Sedanley!”

"Oh, honey," Bev said. "Why not? You could get any woman you wanted!"

Eddie didn't look up from the floor. His hands were balled up into nervous fists.

"Or man?" She continued. A question.

Before Eddie could speak, Richie's voice broke the tense silence. “No! You aren’t allowed to come out!”

“I kn-kn-know you’re not about t-t-to be homophobic,” Bill interrupted.

“Like you can talk,” Richie answered, annoyed. “Have you ever written a character that wasn’t straight?” Bill tried to answer but began stammering worse than usual. “And I’m not being homophobic. But if Eddie comes out right now and steals my goddamn thunder then that would be biphobic. Because I’m bi. That was my secret. So. Now, Eddie, if there’s anything you’d like to say…”

“You’re the fucking worst,” Eddie told him. “And I don’t… I don’t know. I’ve never had feelings strong enough for anyone, man or woman, to ever do anything about it. I suppose I’ve found men attractive before, but never anyone that I knew or liked or – I suppose mostly celebrities, strangers on the subway, things like that. I never… I guess I haven’t met many people that have caught my interest.”

"Sounds like you need to lower your standards,” Stan said bluntly.

“Nah,” Ben said, smiling at Eddie. “I get what he means. I never really formed any connection with anyone either. Before you guys I was lonely, and after you guys I was lonely. I suppose I had been interested in someone when I was younger, but… I forgot about her. Maybe eventually you’ll remember someone, Eddie. Someone who caught your interest.”

Eddie finally glanced up, his eyes immediately finding Richie, who was staring resolutely at the floor. He chewed on his lip. Finally he looked over at Ben and said, “I think I will remember. Eventually.”

"Well," Richie said loudly, and Eddie jumped. Richie's cheeks were bright red and he shoved his glasses up his nose with his pointer finger. "Since I already spoiled my secret, I guess I don't have to go."

"We're very proud of you, Richie," Bev said with a soft smile. "Even though you ruined Eddie's moment."

"Sorry 'bout that, Eds," Richie said with a small shrug and a sheepish smile. "Couldn't let you steal my gay thunder."

Eddie furrowed his brows. "Didn't you just say you were bi?"

Richie waved him off. Eddie noticed his face was still flushed. He pushed his glasses up his nose again. Eddie clenched his hands into fists as he watched Richie fidget, knowing the other man was nervous but not being completely sure what he was nervous about. Eddie had said he would probably remember someone he had feelings for… Could Richie be figuring him out? Could Richie already know that Eddie had those feelings?

And now that he knew Richie was into men as well… Could he return those feelings?

"-but like I said earlier, to Eddie, I feel like I'm only just remembering the girl I loved…" Eddie realized he'd been ignoring Ben, who was obviously talking about Beverly. The two of them were still next to each other, but Eddie could sense some discomfort in Beverly's body language. He thought about how her entire life had revolved around men and felt a pang in his chest for her. She deserved a break.

"So, w-w-what do you th-th-think, Eddie?" Bill said. Eddie startled, tearing his eyes from where they'd rested on Bev. Ben had finished talking and Eddie was hit with a wave of guilt that he'd been too inside his own head to really listen. But he knew the gist of it, right? Ben loved Bev, Ben had been lonely as an adult. He was basically just repeating Eddie's life story, although probably without the virginity aspect.

"I mean… I dunno. Do you guys feel closer?"

Bill shrugged helplessly. Eddie's heart sank. He didn't feel any different, either.

"I think this was good," Richie said, stepping up beside Eddie and wrapping an arm around his shoulder. "At the very least we're better off than we were before. It was like a trust exercise, you know? It - it worked."

Eddie looked up at him. He was giving Eddie what was probably supposed to be a reassuring look, but from the angle Eddie was at, looked more like a grimace. Eddie laughed a little.

"W-Well, alright th-th-then," Bill said, heading toward the front door of the Inn. "Let's g-g-go."

By the time they made it to the small door that led to It's lair, Eddie could barely breathe. Nothing had happened the entire way. Why had nothing happened? Where was It?

"Well…" Richie said with a shrug. "No news is good news, right?"

"I don't think that applies here," Stan said, his voice trembling.

"Are we ready, then?" Mike asked. Eddie gripped his aspirator and shot it into his mouth. The others nodded grimly. Mike pushed the door open, and they went inside.

Amidst the chaos - It turning into a giant spider with Pennywise's face, chasing them down tunnels that lead to nothing good, three doors with no right answer - Eddie had clutched his aspirator in his hand. He hadn't thought about it, but now, as he watched Richie's body float into the air, eyes white, he thought that perhaps he'd known all along. He remembered spraying the aspirator into the giant eye, remembered - this is battery acid, fucknuts! - and he stepped forward.

He didn't utter a sound as he sprayed the aspirator at It, watching as the mist hit one of the spider legs. It's head swung around to face Eddie, so close Eddie could smell It's rancid breath.

"Battery acid," he said coolly, before shooting off the aspirator again. He was close enough now that the mist sank into one of It's eyes. Pennywise's voice bellowed around the cavern, screaming in pain, and Eddie sprayed again, this time aiming for It's open mouth. Just as his finger pressed down, just as the HydrOx filled It's mouth, Eddie was slammed into from the side. He lost his grip on the aspirator and landed hard on the ground, but his eyes didn't leave the spider. He watched as the mouth, filled with razor-sharp teeth, clamped down where his arm had just been.

"You're a fucking idiot, Kaspbrak," Stan said, helping Eddie up.

"Holy shit," Eddie said, breathing heavily and looking at Stan, who was shaking. "You saved my life."

"Yeah, well," Stan said. Then, more quietly, so low that Eddie didn't think he was supposed to hear it, he said, "You saved mine first."

"We gotta save Richie," Eddie said, as It's yell pierced the air again. It was rounding on Mike and Ben on the other side of the cavern, and Richie still floated in mid-air.

"Hey!" Stan screamed, his voice echoing in the lair. Eddie's eyes widened and he grabbed Stan's arm. "You're not real, clowns are human and don’t have spider legs, either you’re a human or a spider, make up your mind!"

Eddie watched in horrified shock as It began to shrink, spider legs pulling in toward its body. The others began to join in, yelling what seemed like nonsense to Eddie, who suddenly could only focus on Richie, collapsing to the floor.

He rushed to Richie's body, lying on the ground, and began to shake him.

"Clown! Clown! Clown!"

"Rich, wake up, man," he said, patting Richie's cheek. Richie groaned. "Yeah, hey, buddy, open your eyes!"

"Eds, wha-" His eyes widened as he took in Eddie's form. He grabbed tightly onto Eddie's right arm, staring at it in wonder. "Fuck, you're -"

"Come help us!" Ben's voice carried over to them. Eddie looked over to where their friends stood in a semi circle around It, now shriveled and small and not a clown at all. Eddie helped Richie to his feet and, feeling more powerful than he ever had in his life, squeezed It's heart until It was no more.

Richie saw Stan kill himself and Eddie losing his arm and dying in the deadlights and when they’re out of the house he grabs Stan’s arms and looks at his wrists angrily and Stan realizes what it means and Richie asks “Why didn’t you do it?”

“First I didn’t remember… I was in the bathtub… I was… Ready. I could only remember promising Bill, the blood oath… But then I remembered Beverly saying she saw us all as adults… And I remembered that I had, too, when I was in the deadlights, and that Eddie was going to die. I knew – Somehow I just knew that if I killed myself Eddie would die, and if I came back he wouldn’t. I could – I could end my own life, but I couldn’t bring myself to end Eddie’s. So I came back.”

not even the author knows what happens next :-)

#eddie month

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ckret2 · 4 years

Text

Personhood

Written for @symbruary Day 22: "hero". I came up with symby's speech like a week ago in the car while driving and I went oh heck, by the time I can type this up I'll have forgotten half of it. And then I forgot half of it.

you ever wanna just holler at Peter for repeatedly implicitly denying the personhood of symbiotes?

###

"Most evil corporate mad science labs have at least a couple redeeming traits," Spider-Man said. "Potted plants. Clean floors. Funny cartoons taped on the office doors, something. But I hate everything about this place." He was weaving back and forth behind Venom to see around them down the hall. "Can't wait to get out of here."

"Neither can we," Venom grumbled. "Both to get away from the oppressive atmosphere... and the oppressive chatter."

"Oh, har har. As if you wouldn't be going stir-crazy in here if you didn't have a conversation partner. I would be."

Loftily, Venom said, "We already have a conversation partner."

"Right. I forgot. You're already stir-crazy."

Venom turned around to shoot Spider-Man a dark look.

Spider-Man went on, "In fact, you passed 'stir' and went on to 'heavily blended' some time ago."

Venom shook their head and turned forward again.

Spider-Man peered down a dark hall as they passed, pausing to see if anything pinged on his spider-sense, then hurried to catch up to Venom. "So how much farther to the—what I assume is going to be a giant room with hundreds of goos in green jars? It's always something like that."

"Not sure," Venom said. "We know it's this way," they pointed ahead, "but we can't tell exactly how far. The strength of the collective psychic signal my other is picking up could be impacted by how thick the walls are and the number of prisoners contributing to it?"

"'Prisoners'?" Spider-Man said, head jerking up. "You mean they're also keeping people here, or—?" He cut himself off. "Oh. No, you're just talking about the slimes, aren't you."

Venom stopped walking so abruptly Spider-Man almost ran into his back. "Yes," they said sharply. "Yes, we're talking about the slimes. Those prisoners. Those people. The imprisoned Klyntar people we're here to save."

Spider-Man was silent for a long moment, then went around Venom and kept walking. "Right, sure. I'm more concerned about making sure they don't get used against humans."

"Oh yes, of course," Venom said sarcastically, following Spider-Man uncomfortably closely. "As we well know. You don't mind a whole facility of enslaved people as long as they aren't used against the people you like. What a big hero."

"'Enslaved people' is a stretch," Spider-Man snapped, "when 'being a living weapon' is their favorite national pastime. In fact, it's a stretch just to..." He huffed, leaving the sentence unfinished, and shook his head.

It was Venom's turn to fall silent. Venom's silence was more menacing.

"What?"

"Say it," Venom said. "We want to hear you say it, if that's what you really believe. Say that you think symbiotes aren't people."

Spider-Man didn't speak.

Venom sneered audibly. It was a wet sound. "In your heart, you know they are."

"In my heart, I know you'll try to beat me to a pulp before we can find the jar room if I say they aren't!" Spider-Man turned around, walking backwards as he spoke. "If you really wanna stretch the definition of ‘person’ to include a single-minded cocktail of horrible-impulse-enhancing obsessive vengeance chemicals—"

"That's not what a symbiote is!" Venom roared. "They don't do that!"

"Oh yeah, Eddie? You sure? How many murders did you commit before you got that thing in your head?"

Venom demanded, "How many did I make you commit?! Did these obsessive vengeance chemicals make you do anything you didn't want?"

"That d—" Spider-Man paused mid-step. "'I'?"

Venom closed the space between them, looming over Spider-Man, fangs snapping in his face as they snarled, "You KNOW that I'm a person! Maybe you didn't when you abandoned me, but you do now! Have been inside your head!"

Rather than backing away, Spider-Man froze, shoulders stiff, staring up at Venom.

"But you still talk about me—about my kind—like we're not. Like we're some kind of dumb fungus that controls your mind. We think you aren't oblivious that we're people. Know you're not that stupid. You just don't want to believe it. You want to believe I'm not a person. Because as soon as you admit I am, you admit you took an alien to a planet where it knows nothing and no one, rejected it for being alive instead of a suit, and locked it up like a lab animal. You don't want to be responsible for that. You don't want to have to look at yourself and admit that you kidnapped, imprisoned, and abandoned a person! So you keep telling yourself I'm not a person at all!"

Venom raised a hand and Spider-Man finally flinched back; but they just thumped it over their own chest. "But am a person, Spider-Man. As long as you keep telling yourself I'm not, you're going to keep abandoning and hurting more innocent people. People like them." Venom pointed down the hall. "Not asking you to make up for what you did. Telling you not to do it again. Telling you to act like a hero for once. Act like us."

When Venom's rant ended, Spider-Man just stared up at them. After a moment, he shrugged jerkily, looking away down the hall where Venom had pointed. "Well—I—we were—I'm already here to get them out, aren't I?"

Venom glowered at him, daring him to say something else—question their credentials as heroes, perhaps—then, when he didn’t, they looked away with a grunt, stalking down the hall.

Spider-Man trailed meekly behind. After they'd passed a couple of halls, he asked, "You still in there, Eddie?"

"You didn't see me get out, did you?"

"Yeah. Right. Just wasn't sure, with—It sounded like the symbiote took over there for a bit."

"It didn't take over," Venom said. "Eddie usually speaks the other's feelings into words because he's better with English. But the other has been choosing those words for a long time. We wanted you to hear its own words."

"Oh."

"We don't think you would have respected its message if it wasn't shaped like a 'person' and talking like a 'person' when it told you that." Venom held up their hands high enough that Spider-Man could see over their shoulders as they did the finger quotes.

Spider-Man winced. "Oh."

At last, they reached a heavy airtight door that Venom easily dispatched. Behind it was the expected room with hundreds of slimes in jars. (The jars were unexpectedly purple.)

Venom stopped in front of the nearest jar, hand hovering as close to the glass as they could get without being pushed back by the supersonic field surrounding the jar. The symbiote pressed up to the glass.

Spider-Man passed them, looking around for the controls. "You know," he said, "we can't really just... let them loose on Earth. I mean, there's hundreds of symbiotes here, at least. We'd be dealing with a major invasive species."

Venom turned to glare at Spider-Man, waiting to see whether his follow-up was going to make that lede better or a whole lot of worse.

"So, uh, I guess... once we herd them all out of here, we're gonna have to find someone to taxi them home," Spider-Man said. "Right? Unless there's a Klyntar Uber I haven't heard about."

Taxied home instead of shipped home. It was a step in the right direction.

“We’ll worry about that once they’re free.” Venom left the jar—"We'll be back for you soon"—and began searching for the controls with Spider-Man.

###

Crossposted to AO3, link in my description. If you enjoyed the fic, I'd appreciate a comment or reblog!

#symbiote #venom symbiote #venom #spiderman #symbruary #fanfic #my writing

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curtisandlewis · 4 years

Text

ML Relationship through the Perspective of a Fanfiction Writer

Listen to the Spotify playlist I made as an auditory companion

For their anniversary I would like to discuss from my perspective as a writer of fanfiction the many layers of ML’s relationship

Onions have layers as well as cake! I learned that from Jerry’s friend Eddie Murphy.

We all know how much the boys love cake…

Layer One Partnership

I wouldn’t be writing fanfiction about two guys who worked at a gas station. Their act is the reason we know about them and celebrate them today. What all of America saw was two men equally skilled at their art (though many were too stupid to realize), both in awe and each other’s biggest fan. What was not presented to the public was the communication it took to pull off their act. It took negotiation to set up a gag and trust as well as the sense to know when not to push when doing a stunt. Their natural rhythm made adlibs come off better than scripted material. They were so attuned to one another they could do the impossible.

Layer Two Friendship

Dean and Jerry most likely met in 1942 that’s four years of friendship before they ever were on stage together. They hung out, had more fun than anyone, and were emotionally supportive of the other. A subset of this aspect is when they act like boys. Wrestling each other to the ground, play fighting, playing football in the hall in nothing but your boxer shorts, and innocent kisses are all the actions of boys not yet taught the rules of manhood. In my writing I sometimes explore the idea of them having a romantic friendship. More than friends, less than lovers. Their relationship isn’t physical and neither has a sexual attraction but are deeply attracted to each other emotionally. This love can be (and Jerry often has!) compared to romantic love. They are affectionate sometimes in the form of kisses but that’s only to communicate their strong emotions for the other.

Layer Three Family

Some people are uncomfortable with them having a romantic friendship. What part of it was a LOVE STORY do you not understand? Often these people will say they loved each other like BROTHERS. In the past I have compared them to brothers but I meant only in the sense that they have a family-like bond. Brothers are protective in this “no one beats the shit out of my brother but me” kind of way. No real life brother relationship I know of is anything like Dean and Jerry. I do, however, get strong father/son vibes from them. Dean is protective, caring, gives Jerry discipline when he needs it, and loves him without condition. It’s important to note these are all things Jerry’s biological father didn’t provide.

Layer Four Marriage

Now we’re getting deep. When I talk about their marriage I don’t mean romantic love or a sexual relationship. I’m speaking strictly of their domesticity. Their act made it so they had to live on the road, sharing hotel rooms and a bed in the early days. As Jerry once said, LIVING AND LOVING TOGETHER. It’s canon that Dean moved in with Jerry more than once. They know what the other is like in a domestic situation. Jerry knows that Dean cuts corners when doing house work and can be a slob. Dean thinks Jerry should relax and not be so fussy. They learned to accept the other’s irritating quirks and create a harmonious environment where they can enjoy each other’s company. Dean and Jerry have to work together to (Jerry would love this analogy!) nurture their baby (their act). This requires...you guessed it! COMMUNICATION. When they communicate and I mean TALK, exchange words and make hard decisions, nothing can break them. In real life their little spats were like the arguments that married people have. In my fiction when they can no longer communicate what they want or need that’s the beginning of the end.

Layer Five Dom/sub

I’m not talking about in a sexual relationship or even within them practicing an alternative lifestyle. When Dean is dominant over Jerry it makes him feel owned. For Jerry to be owned is the highest form of love. He willingly submits to Dean’s loving authority and to serve him brings him great joy. The roles often switch back and forth depending on what the other needs. When Jerry is dominant over Dean it gives him a chance to breathe. For most of Dean’s life he had to appear dominant and in control because that’s what is expected of a man. Jerry is seen as the wife, the female half and naturally the more submissive. But when Jerry takes over the dominant role Dean can just be. He doesn’t have to worry about appearances. Sometimes a man just likes to be led.

Layer Six Romantic

This is when I write Dean and Jerry as lovers. Call them boyfriends, husbands, whatever you want. They are romantically attracted and deeply in love. If you would like a description look up any quote from Jerry about their relationship.

Layer Seven Supernatural

I’m not planning on doing any crossovers with the TV show if that’s what you were thinking. I’m speaking of all the things related to their connection that cannot be explained. They were mythological. In real life they spoke of a connection so deep they knew when the other was sick, in pain, or even angry at them before they were in the same room. I create stories that hint at this connection. They were fated to be together. No matter how stupid they act or how badly they fuck everything up a force beyond their control will always bring them back together.

Layer Eight Sexual

I have left this to be the final layer because it is the most deepest and intimate aspect of their relationship. When I write them having sex all of their aspects work together. Their professional partnership, especially the part where they must know the other’s limits, prepares them for a sexual relationship. As boys they can wrestle and play and as men these games can become something more meaningful than harmless fun. If you replace father with caretaker then that aspect also plays a key part. Making love is what married couples traditionally do. Dominance, submission, the switching between the two awakens their deepest desires and fulfills their deepest need. In Dean’s case it’s a need he didn’t know he had. When I write them practicing an alternative lifestyle I include pain and that sex doesn’t have to be gentle to be deeply romantic. Sex and physical touch on it’s own is how Dean can express his love for Jerry. Words fail him but his hands never do. I write that they can feel the love as if it was something tangible and passed to the other. As for the supernatural aspect, imagine how satisfying sex could be with your soul mate who knew when you would take your next breath and who knew your body as well as you did. This is why whenever I write Dean and Jerry having sex or experiencing sexual intimacy it is always more than that. It does not matter what they do or the lies they tell they are experiencing a deeply emotional act that can sometimes border on the spiritual.

I remember hearing the writer of a TV show talking about writing sex scenes. He used sex scenes as an opportunity to show who the characters were. That always stuck with me and as a writer I prefer examining their relationship and personalities through sex scenes. I mainly write them in a sexual relationship for this reason and also because it’s fun.

Below the cut is my personal experience with writing their sexual relationship, particularly penetrative sex. None of this will be included on the version posted to AO3

It is very important for me to know if and when my characters engage in certain acts, especially penetrative sex.

I am very protective of my Jerry character. Once upon a time, I wanted Dean to be his first everything. I think we all like the idea of Jerry being in control of his experiences with men and for those experiences to be really special. But when I would attempt to write Jerry as shy and innocent it felt like I was writing an original character that had the same name. Jerry’s experiences whether good or bad make him who he is. I can’t logically write that Jerry never acted on his attraction towards men in sixteen years because his soul mate was out there waiting for him. Also, Dean’s possessiveness would take over when he found out Jerry was untouched. He would think of him as “pure” and that never sat right with me.

Jerry kissed boys and men, was held by some and maybe even developed romantic feelings for one of them and Mr. Martin is just going to have to accept that.

Another thing Mr. Martin has to deal with is that Jerry very much enjoys penetrative sex and wants that in his sexual relationships. I write Dean as his first experience with homosexual intercourse because I want that experience to be special for him. If the idea weren’t so laughable I would have Dean sprinkle rose petals on their bed. Jerry isn’t losing his “virginity” he’s had sex before. Intercourse isn’t any different from any other sexual act. Any way men choose to have sex or get off with each other is valid, intimate, and as romantic as they feel.

However, intercourse is a riskier act than the others. The first time for any gender can be tricky and a lot can go wrong. I want Jerry to be with someone gentle and caring enough that he can receive the maximum amount of pleasure. I want this person to be someone he’s in love with and only gives him positive emotions during. Most importantly I want him never to regret this happened and when he thinks of it throughout the decades he feels good.

Quite recently, I’ve decided on a specific time when they do this. Drum roll please... Dean and Jerry share this special experience in 1947 when Jerry is twenty-one.

Why such a specific time? Because in 1948 Jerry goes to Hollywood and reunites with his oh so special friend Tony. When I first joined this fandom I thought Jerry met Tony in 1948 and in my fanfiction writer mind because of their strong sexual chemistry they instantly started a sexual relationship. They did EVERYTHING. Jerry didn’t have to worry about the rules that men were supposed to follow or if he was acting too feminine in bed or not feminine enough. There was no hesitation or holding back with Tony. He bottomed, he topped, dominant, submissive he explored every side of himself. To be with Tony he has to be a fully blossomed flower of a man and when the fifties hit he knows exactly what he wants sexually and completely accepts the desires he has for whichever gender he has a relationship with.

It’s beautiful isn’t it? Tony and Jerry definitely have their problems but when it comes to their sexual relationship I always write it as positive and satisfying for the both of them. When I started writing fanfiction for them it’s what I loved the most.

#ML74 #Fangirl Writing #jerrylevitch #fuzzysebastainstan #anarchistemma #nerigby96

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shewantedtobeasecretgirl · 4 years

Text

10. Bathroom wall a.k.a. a queen bee, Prince in the shower and a backup Casanova (Part One)

„After all… it could be worse. It’s definitely nicer than the apartment I shared with the Friels in L.A.”

“Spare me the details…” Stone mumbles as we’re walking with our bags and suitcases to our rooms. Every second neon light is flickering, which, apart from making me tic, creates a Hitchcockian vibe here. But we have no choice, this is the only motel in the smalltown in which we are stuck for one night on our way to Charlotte. The tour bus of the crew broke down and after two hours of consultation, the drivers confirmed the case requires a car mechanic. Since we were in the late afternoon, Eric decided to cancel our hotel reservation for this night and we checked in the first and only motel we found here.

“I’m happy we only have to spend one night here. Not that I’m picky but this Bates Motel scares the hell out of me…” Judy glances around nervously, reading in my mind as usual. “It’s that a cockroach trap?” she squeaks.

“Don’t worry, I know how to deal with insects, I grew up on a farm, these bastards show up very often around animals.”

“…aaand that’s exactly why we have to worry…” Stone adds having us in stitches.

“Stoney, your only luck is that I can handle any sort of animals.” Jeff retorts grinning as he walks a few steps backwards to see Stone’s reaction but he tactically waits with his retort for him turning back.

“Oh yeah… and you can’t wait to show her your one-eyed trouser snake.” he mutters and I try to mask my snorts by faking a cough. However much I like Judy and however much I have no idea what’s going on exactly between her and Jeff, Stone’s remarks about their bashful kindergarten romance are just hilarious…

“I’ve got bugs in my room…” Ed shows up in the door we’ve just passed.

“Bugs… and no TV.” Beth puts her head out too.

“Great. All I’ve wanted was to stare random sports coverages with glazed eyes and not to think about anything…”

“Since when have you needed any outside help to do that?” Stone targets our bassist again.

“Well, Mike, you’ve won the jackpot. One night with Stone without a TV… What do you think, Jeff, how long it’ll take until he knocks on your door begging you for cutting his cochlear nerves out of his skull?” she asks raising one eyebrow.

I must admit Stone has met his match in this girl. Honestly, I can’t stand when they are yelling with each other but a healthy level of wrangling can’t hurt. At least he leaves us alone while he’s busy with hating her… and she’s not that damsel in distress what she looks like at first sight, even if Stone isn’t willing to acknowledge that.

“Why does nobody care about ME?” Stone whines. “One night without TV… in the company of Mike McCready’s infamous right hand…”

I jinxed it.

“You know, Stone, I still can strangle you with the left one…”

“EWWW!” the others groan in unison, probably visualizing the scene. Now that I think into it, it’s rude, truly…

“Mike, behave yourself, we have now a lady in the crew; we can’t act like wild boars anymore…”

“But wild boars can’t even…”

“A lady. Of course. And what I am? Or who? Wilma Flintstone?” Karrie shakes her head with folded arms standing in the next door.

“Oh, you’re such a badass that we always forget you’re a woman… Okay, that definitely sounded better in my head.” I duck my head seeing the reproving expression of the others. “What I’m trying to say is that you survived several tours with punk bands, I’m sure we’re innocent lambs in comparison to them…”

“Pure, immaculate babies…” Jeff bats his eyelashes.

“You’d better prepare for getting dirty… since there’s no shower in the rooms…”

“What?” Judy lets out a short scream that reminds me of the squeak of a random exotic bird.

“I’m serious, there’s only a toilet with a small sink.” she opens the door in her room. As I enter to peek in, the smell strikes me. Everything in the room, including the furniture, the tapestry, the curtain is saturated with the massive smell of cigarette smoke. I don’t even know if one could get rid of this level of smell… maybe by demolishing the whole building and sowing salt onto its place…

“Does that mean there’s no shower here at all?” Judy inquires one octave higher.

“No worries, it’s here…” we hear Dave’s voice from the end of the hallway. Judy drops her backpack on the ground and hurries in his direction; after a collective shrug, we decide to follow her. On entering, I count two sinks and a rickety classroom chair in the forefront; I go on with my expedition and find myself in a wider room with each four shower compartments on both sides.

“What do you think, is that the women’s shower or…” Judy wonders. We exchange an amused look before bursting out in laughter.

“Judy, I doubt there’s another one in this building.” Jeff throws one arm around her shoulder. “But I’m sure we’ll find a solution to this problem.”

“S-sure.” she reddens in a second. “D-did I mention I lived in a dorm in my first two years on Juilliard? Actually, there were separate showers for girls and boys but you could never know whom you could encounter there…” she jabbers examining the nose of her shoes.

“And which one did you visit more often?” Stone asks in a phlegmatic manner not showing much interest in the answer since he begins to discover the room with both hands in the pocket.

“Actually, showers have great acoustics so I would use the evenings when everyone was away and sneak in with my bassoon to practice…” her face lights up. The poor girl hasn’t suspected yet what I already know: Stone will use the occasion to embarrass her all the more.

“So you practiced on your bassoon there. Finally, I’ve learned how classical musicians call it!”

“Tell me Stone, what makes you think about penis all the time?” Jeff grins while Judy is only staring in front of herself completely mortified. “We’re talking about animals… PENIS! We notice the lack of TV… PENIS! Judy mentions a musical instrument… PENIS! What would Freud think about that?” he takes his chin between his thumb and index finger and starts scratching it with them, pretending cogitation.

“We should call Amber, the guy needs urgent treatment.” Dave snorts.

“Or I can leave you alone for this evening…” I place my hand on Stone’s shoulder with a meaningful expression.

“Okay guys… I leave you alone and give you five minutes to discuss your pubescent wet dreams or to do whatever you collectively want to, I’m not interested in the details, what happens here that stays here but after the blood returns in your brain, we should decide what to do in the evening since I want to spend here as little time as possible. I saw a bar opposite the motel, maybe they have a TV or maybe we could play pool or foosball…”

“Great idea. Now leave.” Dave tosses her jokingly to the hallway.

I do like her idea, I’d be anywhere but here… but I already know the signs. The knives in my stomach… it’s coming…

***

„Look, Judy and Scully are sitting there!”

“…and that’s why we’re gonna choose another table…” Stone mumbles.

“I tell you a secret: you won’t catch leper just by sitting next to her…”

“I don’t wanna hazard, how would I look with one ear or… whatever…”

“A smaller nose wouldn’t hurt, though…”

“I must say, Stone’s right…” Dave turns back to me. “You shouldn’t breathe down her neck all the time.”

“I don’t…”

“You do.” they answer in unison and Dave goes on like he was the dating guru of the band. “If you like a girl and follow her everywhere like a puppy, she will take it for granted. But if you sometimes act casual and don’t treat her like a princess…”

“… she will have no clue whether I like her or not and nothing will happen between us in the rest of our lifetime.” I cut him off.

“No, it’s all about tactics! You show interest, then you pull back, but you’ve already piqued her curiosity so she takes the next step, then you make a move again and this time you try to get closer than last time, then you take back from the pace again making her jealous… and so on…”

“Come on, it’s not like a basketball match, I hate playing games and dancing things around, I just go and ask her out and tell her how I feel and if she rejects me, at least I can tell I didn’t run circles… I hate making a fool of myself.”

“As you want, Jeff… but one thing I know: the most exciting girls all play “the game”. All of them. I’ll grab the beers.” Dave sums up with a meaningful grin before heading to the counter.

“You should leave her alone. I mean not because of what Dave said, obviously, neither is she exciting, nor is she a player and I’m scientifically not convinced that she’s a girl at all but seriously… you can’t expect much from her…”

“I don’t really care about your opinion, you can’t stand her, fine, but I…”

“… you can’t expect much from her…” he repeats taking a deep breath “because she’s a virgin.“

“Hahaha, Jesus, Stone, forget this bullshit finally, not all decent girls are nuns or spinsters!” I shake my head glancing to the direction of the decent girl in question. Luckily, the TV screen over the counter and the broadcasting of a basketball match on it serve as unquestionable excuse for me following what’s happening at our friends’ table.

“Bashfulness is one thing… and her potato bag-like dresses weren’t designed for seduction either but… I’ve heard something…”

“What? Her reading her gynecology record?” I snort.

“Very funny… you think I’m kidding… it happened at the SNL set. Between our appearances, I went back to our dressing room and when I entered she was… begging Eddie to show her how to use a condom…” Stone gets finally to the point pushing the ash tray back and forth with his thumb.

“Are you high or what? You mean she… she… she asked Ed to grab his dong and…” I’m trying to overcome my laugh attack.

“Jesus, no!!! She wanted him to do it with a banana. Plus, Beth was there too.”

“This story is getting better and better.” I keep snickering as I bury my face in my hand, not that me tearing off my own face would bother Stone in finishing the presentation of his theory.

“Well, it sounds pretty sick at first but if you think into it… she’s inexperienced… she gets on well with Beth… who tries to enlighten her about sex stuff… and she gets the idea that her boyfriend could help her with the male side of the story…”

“Stone?”

“Yup?”

“You’re a fuckin’ perv, you watch too much threesome porn.” I lean closer looking in his eyes.

“Since when has been threesome a perverse thing?” he asks back avoiding my eyes with a lopsided smile.

“I didn’t say that. But fantasizing about Judy discussing sexual topics with a couple who happen to be our friends is definitely only the product of your twisted mind.” I poke him in the forehead with my index finger. “Anyway, this whole incubus is full of contradictions. Like, you know too that Ed can be pretty shy about certain topics, if this scene had happened the way you told, he would have got embarrassed and…”

“I know, it was weird to me too but he even began to joke about it suggesting that we should write a song about ejaculation…”

“Haha, I always thought Mike would be the first to come up with that…”

“You know, some people write songs about it, some people practice it… Anyway, admit it, it makes sense. She’s shy, she reddens all the time, she even makes up a ridiculous excuse just to avoid being kissed…”

“…which is also only your theory, let’s make it clear.” I interject but in the meantime, I catch myself observing Judy’s body language. She talks to Scully with folded arms, as if she was trying to squeeze in and take up as little space as possible. Noticing my distraction, Stone also glances towards them and goes on with his mental leap, not taking his eyes off them.

“Of course… it’s possible that I misheard them. Maybe she was talking about bandanas and I thought it was about a banana. Maybe she didn’t even say “condom.” Maybe she said bottom… or bonbon… or pontoon… or…”

“Just shut up finally!” I grunt still focusing on my target who now tucks both palms under her thighs and listens to our guitar tech with undivided attention. I wish there was a manual on the typical moves of sexually inactive girls… shit, Stone’s tactic works. As always. He’s got that annoying skill to bug with you his impossible ideas again and again until you realize he’s put a bee in your bonnet and crawled totally into your mind. “Anyway, even if you’re right, what does it change?”

“Right about what?” Dave rejoins the conversation and distributes the three bottles of beer before he sits back on his place.

“Whether Saint Judith has already popped the cherry.” Stone grins against the rim of the bottle with sassy eyebrow twitches.

“Geez, don’t you have anything better to talk about?” Dave shakes his head and I reward his reaction by clapping appreciatively. “Anyway” he goes on with a little break while he’s taking a sip “if you’re that curious, why don’t you just go and ask Karrie?”

“I’M NOT CURIOUS ABOUT IT!” I raise my voice. “Excellent idea Dave, I don’t even know why it hadn’t occurred to me before… like, “hey Karrie, has your cousin banged recently? I mean, since she was born?” After all, she would probably only tear my head off and play basketball with it stomping on my dead body. It’d be totally worth trying.”

My reaction makes Dave laugh so hard that he ends up dropping the cigarette he’s just put into the corner of his mouth. As he places it back approaching it with the lighter, I hear a female voice over my head.

“Have you got light?”

The owner of the voice is a tall, slim girl. She isn’t pretty in the conventional meaning but the contrast between her dark hair and eyes and her pale skin gives her a femme fatale look. The red lipstick she’s wearing only multiplies this image; due to the striking phenomenon, it takes me a few seconds to notice the two other girls standing behind her. They are nice but obviously not nice enough to eclipse the vibe of Lipstick Girl. After all, ladies-in-waiting have never been allowed to look better than their queen…

“Sure” mumbles Dave offering the lighter, not that he’s got any choice because Lipstick Girl has already taken place on the fourth chair after her rhetorical question.

Stone and I glance at each other confirming that we don’t have any other choice either than reaching out for each one chair at the surrounding tables and pulling them closer to ours, so that the other two girls don’t have to be standing miserably around us.

“You’re those guys from Pearl Jam, right?” Lipstick Girl inquires blowing the smoke lazily. For no reason, though, since knowing the answer, she goes on with the next question. “And where’s your singer?”

I should have known. They are interested in the famous Eddie Vedder. As ninety-nine percent of people who know the band.

“He stayed at the hotel. With his girlfriend.” I try to answer in a dark voice.

“Oh. That’s too bad. I’m Claudia, by the way.” her face lights up as she reaches out her hand to Stone and I can’t decide whether her sudden enthusiasm is real or she’s a serial killer who’s just found her backup victim.

“That Guy From Pearl Jam.” Stone shakes hands with her.

“And these are my friends, Jordan and Wendy.” she goes on with the introduction, ignoring Stone’s sarcastic response. Wendy can’t help giggling excitedly hearing her own name while Jordan sends a shy smile towards us.

“Actually, we rather call him Stone. It’s shorter and simpler. Sort of… classy.” I explain.

“Yes, and since we’re all “That Guy From Pearl Jam”, we had to find out another names, otherwise we’d never know who’s talking to whom. That’s why we call him Jeff.” Dave points at me cracking the girls up with his joke, of course Claudia’s laughter is the loudest from the trio.

“Actually, we found this dude in a dumpster. We decided to adopt him and named him Dave.” I point back at our drummer keeping our company entertained. Tit for tat. ”By the way, Stone is our guitarist…”

“Rhythm guitarist…” he feels necessary to specify the name of his position.

“Oh my god, I love rhythms.” Wendy exclaims pressing her hand against her chest.

“But Dave is our rhythm master-in-chief, he plays the drums.”

“Actually, bass belongs to the rhythm section too… by the way, I’m the bass player…” I add although I doubt they could distinguish between the types of guitars.

“And aren’t you playing a show tonight?” Jordan finally speaks up but before we could answer politely her dumb question, Claudia humiliates her saying out loud what’s probably not only on my but also my bandmate’s mind.

“Of course they aren’t, what do you think, they have clones or what? Anyway, what are you doing here?” she suddenly turns back into the chatty Catwoman, sending an irresistible smile at Stone. She must be bipolar.

“We’re just hangin’ out… talkin’ about stuff… mostly manly stuff. Porn… tuned cars…” Stone shrugs.

“Oh my god, I love tuned cars!” Wendy clucks in, obviously her sensor for sarcasm isn’t working, in case she has one at all.

“…guns…” Dave adds and despite my expectations, Wendy doesn’t express her enthusiasm this time.

“…and basketball…” I throw in my contribution but I immediately lose interest in the conversation, when Dave nudges me nodding towards Judy and Scully. I immediately decode his signal and glance there too to realize Judy is staring us. And as far as I can see, her expression is curious and confused at the same time.

“You see? It’s working…” Dave mutters between his teeth pretending to listen to the rambling of Wendy and Claudia. “Now make her clear she’s not the center of the universe, you notice other girls too…” he advises pulling out the next cigarette of the pack. As always, Stone reaches out for it too knowing Dave always spares him and pardons his grubbing.

“Wow, may I check your hands?” Claudia uses the occasion and like every time since they joined us, she does what she wants regardless to the answer, which means this time her grabbing Stones right hand and starting touching it enthusiastically. “Your hands are beautiful… how can fingers be that long? And they are so soft!” she also narrates the process, making Stone let out a silent chuckle. Despite being the sarcastic commenter of our life, he can be pretty aloof with strangers and I’m sure he’s embarrassed this time too. Driven by a sudden idea, I basically push my hands in the face of Jordan.

“Look, bassist hands look totally different!”

“Yeah… your finger seems… stronger. I like your rings…” she flushes but I find more interesting the outraged grimace of the girl behind her. Is it possible that Dave was right? She’s flailing as she’s explaining something angrily to Scully, still looking at us… Is she maybe…jealous? Yass!!!

In the meantime, music starts playing from the speakers, it’s Hot Stuff by Donna Summer. Weird choice at a pub without a real dance floor but the girls at our table don’t feel bothered by that fact since they all start screaming grabbing for each other’s hands.

“Oh my god, I love this song!” Wendy shrieks. How surprising.

“I can’t help dancing every time I hear it!” Claudia sighs and in the next second I see her pulling Stone – whose hand she’s still holding in hers in the middle of the bar while our bandmate turns back and sends desperate S.O.S. signals to us.

“Yes, let’s dance!”

The two other girls follow them and they encourage us to do the same by shouting back at us. Dave silently grins at me and I immediately know what’s on his mind.

“No. No way. Forget it.”

“Come on Jeff, let’s finish what you’ve started. Everything for the cause.”

As his smile grows wider I realize I have no choice.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this.” I groan as I pinch the bridge of my nose, even closing my eyes tightly as if it could help me turn invisible. “Okay, let’s do it.” I exhale deeply and drag myself after Dave.

I honestly hope this works… And if it does, I’ll want to get a very generous reward for it.

***

„I gladly help you, Judy but don’t you think it’ll be too much? You want to learn everything at once. I mean, I’m not saying you’re not capable of it but I’m not sure that my experiences would be useful… even Brett’s task is closer to that of Karrie’s, so…”

“The more I work with the team the more I feel that I know nothing. N O T H I N G. Karrie’s done this job for years and I only have weeks to become her replacement… Jesus, I was a goddamn idiot when I said yes.” Judy leans her forehead against her palms with a desperate sigh. “This whole job is about physics that has never been my strength…” she lifts her bottle to her lips, which is a move she’s done very often tonight. Actually, I don’t mind it, she hasn’t been very talkative to me but seemingly, beer proves to be an effective tongue loosener at her.

“Come on, do the others look like rocket scientists?”

“Of course not. But everything what they learned by experiencing step by step, I have to compensate in like… weeks? A degree in physics or electrical engineering would be more useful than my skill to recognize chords by ear or analyze a fugue theme or…

“And why do you think that the guitar tech could introduce you into the mysterious world of sound waves and frequencies? I basically just tinker with Stone’s guitars, prepare him cold beer on the amp and hand him the towel between songs…”

“You forgot to mention your supernatural ability…”

“…which would be…?”

“First, being able no to vomit of the look of his sweaty body… and to bear him, generally. Seriously, man, you should receive the Nobel Peace Prize, it’s some achievement.” she glimpses narrow-eyed at the three-fifths of the band. It’s beginning. They don’t even need to be in any interaction to find excuses for sparring. “Sorry, I know you get on well with each other, he’s your friend, yadda-yadda… but he simply gets on my nerve and he even enjoys it.”

Actually, that’s exactly what Stone keeps telling about her too but I rather swallow my remark. When the guys arrived, I was about to wave them so that they came over but she almost broke my arm and categorically declared she couldn’t even bear the sight of him. I thought her liking the other guys could make her overcome her aversion but I was wrong.

“Karrie hasn’t allowed me yet to do anything with her soundboard during the gigs but she gives me smaller tasks at sound checks and encourages me to experiment with the setups… although I feel like I’m wasting everybody’s time and I’m just pushing buttons senselessly like a lab chimpanzee… I mean, the others tell me too if I don’t manage to do what they are asking me for but I also receive positive feedback from them when I’m accidentally doing something right. But Stone… he basically disagrees only for the sake of tension and he changes his mind in every two seconds… so even if I sometimes start feeling useful, he ruins this feeling with one single word or a smug face…” she goes on talking faster and faster, putting accent on every mentioning of Stone by beating her bottle against the table.

“I don’t want to desperate you but you’d better begin to prepare for new challenges… it’s already April, the season of outdoor gigs has just started… which means you can forget everything you’ve already learned because those are completely different than shows in smaller smoky clubs…” And they give Stone infinite number of variations for finding flaws and mistakes in her work but I keep this information for myself, seeing she’s stressed out enough even without that.

“Great. You really know how to soothe people, you know?” she remarks with a bitter half-smile. “And here we are…”

“What?” I ask and follow the direction of her look as she nods towards the guys who are now surrounded by a few girls, probably local bar beauties. “Oh, it’s nothing serious… it happens from time to time and I’m sure it’ll too more and more often. But they’re not interested in girls who are interested in rock stars.” I shrug.

“ ’Course. Not at all. Guys who are not interested in girls. Sure.”

“I’m serious, I mean, they don’t practice celibacy but neither of them is into hookups with fans.”

“That’s what I’ve heard too. And they do seem to be honest guys but who believes in fairy tales?” As we keep observing them, we witness the ladies settling down at their table and engaging into a lively conversation with them. “You see?” she comments on the scene but despite the victorious confirmation she’s right, I discover hints of other feelings on her face too… maybe… envy?

“Okay, you’re a little right. Dave is a huge flirt. He loves being surrounded by girls, complimenting them, chatting them up and apart from a few exceptions, that’s all.” I admit trying to direct the conversation to neutral fields since I suddenly realize what triggers her reaction. I’m a moron for catching on so slowly but better later than never… She obviously feels neglected by Jeff. They’ve just begun to hang out together, they’ve already had a sort-of-a-date… and now she thinks he’s lost interest in her. “But Jeff is a very loyal type, he’s like a brick wall with bimbos…” I put him on pedestal but she doesn’t seem convinced.

“Jesus, those typical, trivial girly tricks, I can’t believe he buys them.” she goes on as if she hadn’t even heard me.

“I… I wouldn’t think anyone of them is his type, I mean of course I didn’t know all of his exes but…” I babble effortlessly and my words finally reach her brain.

“What? Exes? Whose exes?” she tilts her head furrowing her eyebrows uncomprehendingly. Okay, that’s definitely not what I expected.

“Jeff’s..?” I ask back with the same helpless expression.

“Who the hell cares about Jeff?” she startles impatiently. What. The. Fuck. “I mean of course I care. About Jeff. And when I say “care” I mean “care”, like, we all care about him, right? We care about him since he’s our friend. We’re happy when he’s happy and we comfort him when he’s sad because he’s like our…”

“…brother?” I help her out since her version about the concept of care sounds more and more like the kindergarten edition of Oxford Dictionary.

“Uhmmm…” she hesitates and I’m sure she’s fast-backwarding all their interactions in her head, sorting out the potentially incestuous ones. “He’s a guy who doesn’t owe me anything.” she defines finally the situation.

Thanks, Judy, I feel a lot smarter now.

“Seriously, groping a guy’s hand??? Couldn’t she be cheaper?” she exclaims flailing outraged. As I follow her gaze, I spot a black-haired demon sitting next to Stone who’s playing with his fingers fliratiously.

“Stone??? Were you talking about him the whole time?”

“Of course, about whom else?” She rolls her eyes as if she was just explaining that one plus one is two.

“But you hate him…”

“Yup. I do.”

“Then why does it bother you?” I glance at the hand porn scene.

“It bothers me because he’s the only one of them who’s got a girlfriend and look how he’s behaving…”

“How is he behaving?”

“Are you blind, man? She’s flirting with him and he doesn’t stop her while that poor girl is waiting for him somewhere in Seattle…”

“Look, “poor girl” is the last thing I would say thinking about Amber… Anyway, you don’t even know him properly. He doesn’t encourage girls in whom he’s not interested but the fact he doesn’t take them seriously doesn’t mean he has to be rude with them either.” I defend my friend involuntarily.

“I get it, the only girl with whom he has to be rude is me.”

“What the hell does that have to do with you? And think what you want but I’m sure he’s not cheating on Amber, that girl in Utrecht was only a misunderstanding…”

Oh, fuck, I should have kept my mouth shut.

“THAT GIRL IN UTRECHT? I KNEW HE’S A WHORE!”

She’s probably trying to sound like an enraged lion but she rather reminds me of a furious kitten.

“It was just a stage diver girl… she climbed up on the stage, complimented his guitar play and asked him for a kiss… and since he only kissed her on the cheek, she stole a peck from his lips and then jumped back in the crowd, that’s all!”

Jesus, there’s no chance I get away with this.

“A peck on the lips, an orgy, what’s the difference?” she spits the words disgusted.

“He claimed she had been sweaty and smelled like cheap red wine, he shotgunned three cans of beer until he felt human again, I saw it with my own two eyes!” I lose my temper too and force her with my index and middle finger to keep eye contact with me. By this time we’re basically yelling with each other since the music got louder in the meantime and we have to outshout an evergreen disco hit of Donna Summer.

“Then be ready to spill bleach in those two eyes!” she points towards the guys and I can hardly believe what I see.

The three girls are already dancing in the middle of the bar and… Jeff, Stone and Dave… are joining them?

“Actually, Jeff is a better dancer than I thought, I would have assumed he moves like a bear… but he’s not bad at all…” Judy giggles surprised at our bassist who picked up the rhythm successfully by mixing basic disco dance steps with the moves of belly dancers. Meanwhile, Dave is swaying his hips back and forth keeping his two hands on the nape like a parody of male strippers. The girls appreciate them fooling around, apart from the black-haired one who’s too busy with activating Stone.

“But Stone… he seems to have left his dance shoes at home.” she acknowledges shaking her head with a half-smile. She’s basically reading my mind; he’s the only static feature of the scene, bobbing his head and tapping the beat with his foot, digging both hands in his pocket.

“Well, yeah… he doesn’t feel comfortable without his guitar. I remember them playing a gig in Stockholm when something went wrong with his Les Paul. He couldn’t fix it but his other guitar wasn’t tuned back… and it happened during the last song so it wouldn’t have made much sense to do it, I could have made it only by the end of it… So he put down the guitar but didn’t really know what to do, like you just don’t start to dance to Leash but standing on the stage like statue while the others are playing out of their minds looks also lame… So he tried to move to the music but to be honest, I thought he was getting an epilepsy attack…”

“Hahaha! Truly, he doesn’t seem to be familiar we the concept of dance at all…” she giggles staring at him, while he’s still standing at the same spot as if he was pinned to the ground. Only his bobbing gets more intense as the black-haired girl begins to dance him around with seductive hip circles.

“Maybe we should hang a guitar on his shoulders to make him bounce on one leg at least, as he does it at the gigs… WHOA! This so disgusting and vulgar! Look, how much he enjoys it!”

“How much?” I roar back since apart from the repeating hair flips and the constant smirk, the girl doesn’t receive much feedback from our Stoney. But for some unknown reason, Judy seems to be watching a different movie than me.

“He’s basically drooling…”

“Why? Because he’s smiling? Come on…”

In the meantime he’s forced to make a few almost dance moves in order to keep his balance since his partner decided to stimulate him by rubbing her back to his… which drives Judy completely out of control.

“GET A ROOM!” she jumps to her feet kicking her chair back. “I have to pee.” she announces with a sudden and suspicious nonchalance to compensate her outburst. But after making a few steps towards the restrooms, she turns back as if she realized she forgot to mention something. “To be exact, I also consider puking.” she adds sending a last icy look towards the target of her anger before she leaves with indignant gasps.

***

I still hate public toilets, especially those of bars. The compartments are narrow and dirty, and the bolt is mostly just a decoration without any useful purpose. Just like here. I have to hold onto the door handle, balance over the toilet bowl and try not to bang my head against the door at the same time; of course the seat is missing, not that I’d ever sit on it at a place like this one. At least I can tell I’ve done something for my abs today… Everything resonates to the pulsing rhythm of Hot Stuff; the song that have always landed on the record player whenever Effie or I or both of us have wanted to dance some shit out of ourselves… until now. It’s like it’s got stolen from me, it’s my song, it’s our song, and now they’ve desecrated it. I can’t imagine I could ever dance to it again without seeing that pathetic mating ritual in front of myself. At least the usual obscene drawings and messages on the wall distract me from playing that scene over and over again in my head. I’ve always enjoyed examining the scribbles in restrooms…. The only thing I can’t figure out is the huge amount of phone numbers, what’s the point in writing them on the toilet wall? Has anyone ever called a phone number found here? And if the answer is yes, what might the caller have said? “Hey, I saw your number at the loo while I was pooping and I immediately liked it so would you go out with me?”

Shit, that distasteful squeezing… I haven’t put much past him, anyway but somehow I thought he’s a more thoughtful guy, I mean, he’s a fuckin’ idiot but him being only a stupid fuckboy kind of surprised me. Whatever, it’s not my business. His girlfriend will be certainly happy for the “little gift” he will bring home for her, if he goes on like this…

I’m already with one leg out of the compartment when I hear the door of the room opening and the loud giggle of female voices makes me startle and pull back to cover.

“Oh my God, I still can’t believe we encountered them right here, right now!” a high-pitched voice peeps. It reminds me of the sound of a rubber chicken.

“Yes, I thought they stayed at fancy hotels and went to party to exclusive bars… and yet, they show up in our boring little town… and they are so nice guys!” someone else joins the gushing.

“Oh my God, Dave is so funny!” Rubber Chicken chirps.

Great. I’ve got trapped by the cheerleader group.

“Yes, he is… but I like Jeff the most… he’s got a good sense of humor too but he seems to be a serious guy at the same time… did you hear him mentioning he’s a painter too? Artists are very sensitive people… and Jeff alliterates with Jordan…” the speaking partner of Rubber Chicken adds sighing. “And Stone is a very handsome guy too but I don’t understand all of his jokes…”

You don’t even know how lucky you are, my child…

“That’s not a huge problem, since you won’t talk much with him, he’s mine.” a deeper, confident voice puts an end to the distribution of testosterone. She must be the Alpha Female who wrapped herself around Stone. Jesus, I don’t want to listen to them raping the guys verbally… I take a deep breath and walk out to the sinks… or I’d walk there if they weren’t blocked by the Three Graces who are very busy with fixing their makeup.

“Ahem… sorry…” I clear my throat because my silhouette showing up behind them in the mirror doesn’t really bother them in the process.

“Oh, I’m ready, come…” the admirer of Jeff turns back and sends a smile at me. She seems to be a kind girl, anyway. Alpha Female is still rubbing her eyelids, trying to remove the dark spots of superfluous mascara, while Rubber Chicken is following the procedure with undisguised wonder.

I squint in the mirror as I clean my hands under the running water. Alpha Female is tall, like, very tall, I look like a garden gnome next to her. Her skin is pale, even paler than mine but she’s not afraid to wear dark, smoky eye shadow and fiery lipstick. How do these girls do it? Every time I try to do something with my face, I feel and look like a five-year-old little girl who stole the content from her mom’s drawer. Even the tiniest change seems to be conspicuous and makes me want to tear my skin off… but she looks just gorgeous. It’s not fair.

“Oh my God, Claudia, that rouge looks so beautiful on you!” Rubber Chicken purrs.

So her name is Claudia. Why does that make me think of chlamydia?

“It’s beautiful and very functional.” Alpha winks as she pulls out the item in question of her purse to thicken her juicy-looking lips. “Water- and kissproof.”

Yeah, beautiful. Lipstick on a pig.

“Whadh?” Alpha freezes with slightly opened mouth.

Shit, did I say it out loud?

“Noothing… I just… sneezed…”

“Aha… hey… I shaw you adh dhe dhable widh dhadh dhudhe…”

“Really?” I ask back to win some time to decode the message behind her sloppy articulation.

“Yeah… Jeff said you’re with them too.” Alpha talks on to her own reflection before pressing her lips together for the sake of even texture. “Are you someone’s sister?”

Our eyes meet it the mirror.

“Oh yeah, I am, just like the massive majority of the female population of Earth.” I mumble as I tear a piece of paper towel.

“I mean, the sister of someone in the band or the crew, smarty-pants.” she rolls her eyes.

Oh. So we’re having a chitchat. As always, I start feeling uncomfortably of watching myself too long in the mirror so I begin to check my hair, even if it makes absolutely no sense since I braided it as tight as possible in the morning, my braids could survive even the shock wave of a nuclear explosion.

“I’m in the crew. As a member.”

Okay, I’m only the second cousin of a crew member but I doubt she would understand that degree of family relationships.

“Then you must know Stone very well.”

I know him better than I wanted to…

“Uh… yes, I kinda know him.”

“Ish he shingle?” Alpha inquires still finding tiny flaws in the artwork she’s creating.

“No, he’s got a girlfriend.” I answer quickly. “It’s a serious thing… I mean, as far as I know.”

Okay, I don’t know shit about his love life but he’s been touring for months and they are still together so it can’t be just a fling, I didn’t lie.

“Is she here too?” she turns suddenly towards me, drawing a circle with her index finger in the air.

“Oh no… no… she’s ahem, in Seattle.”

“Hahaha, then he’s single.”

Okay, I can’t really argue with this attitude properly.

“And what is he like? What type of girls he digs?” my interrogation goes on.

Should I say deaf-and-dumbs?

“Uhm… he’s an aloof weirdo so honestly, I have no idea.”

He’s the most distant member of the band and sometimes he does have an alien-like manner, so this time I didn’t lie either…

“You mean he’s shy?”

Jesus, if that’s the equivalent of “aloof weirdo” in your poor dictionary then yes, he’s shy, whatever…

“Sort of…”

“We can fix that, shyness is no problem to me… Yes, the lanky one is mine.” she smacks satisfied at her mirror image, examining the result with a content smirk.

“Do you have further questions or may I…?” I point with my thumb towards the door.

“I know everything what I need. Thanks, Peanut!”

Peanut? PEANUT??? My head is pounding as I escape back to the bar. It takes me long seconds to spot that Scully relocated to the table of the band members, he’s the only one there right now, though, since the others are standing at the counter to provide the supplies.

“Hey, what’s that?” I ask pointing at the shot glass in front of him as I plop down.

“It’s tequila but it’s mi…ne.” he waves resigned since I grab and guzzle it in the blink of an eye.

“Sorry, I needed it.” I shiver and frown. I’ve realized again that I hate tequila but it seemed like a good idea. “I met them in the restroom.”

“Whom?”

“The Slut Squad. They’re about to hunt the guys down.”

“So what? I think you’re overreacting, anyway, they are big boys and already know how to take care of themselves…”

I doubt it… The trio joins the guys and now they don’t even try to hide the official result of the sharing. Rubber Chicken and Jordan at least show some self-restraint but Claudia shifts to next gear, or maybe she even skips a few one since she laughs hysterically at every comment of Stone and tries to mesmerize him by staring at him with an irresistible smile And obviously, she uses every imaginable excuse to touch him. The guys offer their drinks gallantly to their temptresses who are now heading to us with awkward snickering. Of course Claude didn’t forget to stroke Stone’s upper arm to express her gratitude for the beer…

“Shit, they are coming… act naturally!” I nudge Scully.

“I act naturally, it’s you who’s turned into a rabid squirrel…” he grunts back.

“Shh… HI GIRLS!” I greet them hoping my voice doesn’t sound too fake and try to ignore that I can see Scully burying his face into his palms from the corner of my eye.

“Hi Peanut… and…?”

“Scully. Guitar tech.” he waves still keeping the facepalm with one hand.

“Oh my God, I love guitars!” Rubber Chicken exclaims.

“I used to love them too. But if you tune them so many times in a day that you start dreaming about them, taste changes fast, trust me. Nowadays I’m rather into trumpets.” he adds with a serious face.

“Oh… really?”

Poor Rubber Chicken, she’s obviously too slow to follow the usual pace of our conversations.

“Flea from Red Hot Chili Peppers plays the trumpet too…” Jordan remarks.

“You’re right, have you heard their latest album? It’s…” I greedily seize the first reasonable topic they throw in but Claudia insists on discussing her project.

“He seems to have taken the bait. Dear God, he’s so sexy, I can’t handle…” she moans.

“And he’s got a first-class butt…” Scully sighs dreamily, which makes me bite my lips to suppress the laughter developing in my chest.

“Don’t torture me… do you think he likes me?”

Yes, I was thinking the same about the quitting of torture, you’re monomania is pure torment to us. But how can she ignore the fact so shamelessly that he’s not independent? Not available, forbidden fruit, taboo…

“As I said he’s got a…” I’m about to remind her of the relationship status of her victim but I realize it wouldn’t make any sense. I fell into the trap of thinking her mindset is similar to mine… motivation! That’s the key, in crime series, police officers always catch the murderer only after finding out about their motivations… And her motivation is… sex, of course. “…a charm. He’s so sweet, right? A real cutie pie!” I groan with the most plastic smile I can put on. Scully freezes for a second, and then almost chokes on his beer, probably thinking I’m losing my mind, but I’ve never been saner.

“Sorry, it’s just my reflux.” he hits himself in the chest with his fist.

“Look at his smile! And his laughter…”

“Yeah, his laughter, exactly…” that is as pleasant to hear as a chalkboard scratching “It’s such a pity for him…”

“How do you mean?” she jumps immediately on my remark.

I take a deep breath. If I go on, there’ll be no way back… and I should think about the consequences… But seriously, Judith Emilia Camden, just think back how he’s treated you since you met! You’re not his doormat. He deserves it, he’d deserve even much more. As I glance at him only to see his smug grin, I already know there’s no point in hesitating, I know what to do.

“I mean such a nice guy… but with his preferences, it’s so difficult for him to find the right girl…” I pretend concern.

“His preferences? What preferences?”

Maybe it’s the anger, maybe it’s the tequila but as I go on, my tongue gets totally out of control…

#Pearl Jam #pearljam #PearlJamfanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #eddie vedder #stone gossard #mike mccready #jeff ament #dave abbruzzese

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charlienick · 6 years

Note

☕️☕️☕️☕️☕️☕️

ALL OF THESE???? OR JUST ONE???? ILL SPILL U FOUR TEAS

☕️ the first: “reddie is overrated, stozier bichie and kaspbrough are superior” has been said so many times that THAT TAKE is overrated at this point

☕️ the second: shipping bill with either eddie or richie romantically is an inherently screwed up power dynamic due to the intense hero worship both characters have for bill. he can do no wrong in their eyes, and discussing whether or not bill would abuse that power (i think as an adult he definitely would but that’s neither here nor there) is moot because it was doomed to be unhealthy from the start

☕️ the third: bill was an inherently selfish character. this tea is HELLA complicated, so buckle up. he is working from a place of intense trauma and guilt due to the shitty way he treated his little brother before he died, and from the amount of hero worship georgie had for him and feeling like he failed him (separate but why do all these characters worship bill i’m serious because if you’re saying from a standpoint of stephen making everyone worship his self insert, it’s moot bc i don’t even think bill is the self insert in the story but that’s a whole separate tea)

so he had a lot of trauma that he stifled by trying alleviate his guilt by putting the losers in the thick of danger as kids. but the real problem i have with bill is towards the very end. bill, feeling guilty that he cheated on his wife and then had her go catatonic because of what he believes is his own misgiving, chooses to bring audra’s body out of the sewers instead of eddie’s. he literally FIGHTS richie on this until richie gives in (ahem abuse of the power richie gives him) even though eddie was effectively the brother he lost narratively speaking and DIED THE SAME WAY, AND NOT ONLY THAT, BUT DIED THE SAME WAY TO SAVE HIM. but he chooses the guilt of choosing to hurt audra by cheating on her over the guilt of eddie dying for him because, well, at least i didn’t ASK him to die for me! and thus forces the remaining losers to leave their best friend’s body underground with the dirt and the grime to be forgotten without even a proper burial or headstone. another forgotten child, lost to the sewers. another forgotten child, lost in the minds of the losers’ club.

☕️ the fourth: stephen king killing eddie instead of bill was, narratively speaking, stupid as fuck. bill dying instead of eddie would’ve completed his character goal: to see his brother again, and to avenge him. if bill had died to defeat pennywise, his whole arc would’ve made sense. a character so lost in the wake of the senseless killing of his younger brother, that he would do anything—including give his life—to make it right, even 30 years later. but instead he killed EDDIE, the THIRD gay coded or explicitly gay character who died at the hands of pennywise, because… why? what did eddie dying solve, or accomplish, narratively? how did it push the plot forward? he gave a half-assed page and a half death scene and then that was the end of it. a lot more plot-related things would’ve been accomplished if stephen king hadn’t slain his own self-insert. YEAH! EDDIE IS THE SELF INSERT! SECRET TEA! but i’m too tired to tell you all why bc i have to clean up all this tea, but, yeah,

#ask #anonymous #i had some shit to say i guess

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richietozierluv · 6 years

Text

miscommunication - (richie tozier) part 1 of 2

part 2

Pairing: Richie Tozier x Reader

Summary: You and Richie Tozier are, to put it simply, deeply in love with each other. But neither of you know that the feelings are mutual. Richie sadly gets jealous, and Stan shares some news that, whether you choose to believe it or not, make you doubt whether Richie is worth the wait.

Author’s Note: Okay so this is something that nobody asked for but if anyone wants a second part, please hmu because I’d love to write more

Word Count: 1,306

Warnings: Swearing and ?Angst?

You couldn’t take the constant yelling anymore, nor the eerie silence that followed it when your parents would slam their respective doors. So you left your house, or rather you ran, and somehow ended up four blocks away without a thought. What stopped you was your untethered shoelace and a glimpse of something- no, someone, staring at you behind a tree.

“Ah shiiiiiiit,” you sat up, on your knees, and looked back towards the trees. The wolf whistle behind you almost cost your mother a hefty sum of hospital bills, and your heart was still racing as none other than Richie Tozier offered you his hand up.

“If I hadda known you would meet me on your knees, I would have run here faster.”

He winked. You hit him.

“Shove off Richie.”

“Make me, y/n/n.”

You gave him the side eye, hoping he wouldn’t notice the blush creeping up your neck, or at least take it as a sign that you ran here too. And then it dawned on you.

“Wait, how did you know I was here?” It was his turn to blush.

“I- I saw you r-r-running down Th-the street, and I just h-happened tobewatchingyou,” he said this last part very fast, and you almost didn’t catch it.

“Oh great, so not only do I have to worry about our buddy It watching us, but now I have to worry about you too?” you grinned, loving that you could literally see your best friend’s face turning red as if he were in a cartoon.

“I- no, I mean-,” he stumbled. Anyone would have thought you were talking to Big Bill at this point instead of Trashmouth Tozier.

“I’m joking Rich! I think I actually wanted to see you anyways.” Your smile reflected on to his face. He took your hand and you both started walking towards the Barrens. Normally you would have swatted him away, but he had a look in his rather magnified eyes that you supposed you shared. How the universe worked, you wondered. Where a boy you thought deserved nothing but the best, had to face the same scenes you did, when he walked through his front door.

But Richie didn’t know you knew this, and felt his heart jump through his chest when you didn’t let go of his hand.

After a few minutes of walking, and a worried Richie hanging onto each word of your monologue of what your parents were yelling about, you had reached the Barrens.

“Wait, before we see the others, can I just tell you something?” he started to look nervous, and you noticed the sun setting in his glasses. You could swim in those eyes-

“Y/n?”

“Oh- oh yeah, you- what- huh?”

He also happened to notice the way the remaining sunlight bounced off of your hair, so he filed a lingering piece behind your ear. “I just wanted to say, that you’re super badass for putting up with your parents, and,” he laughed awkwardly, “you’d be doing much better than I would if I was in your situation.” You both stared at each other for a long time, your mouth opening and closing, looking for a way to kindly scream, Richie! You can talk to me! I know you have shitty parents! Let’s run away together! We can forget about IT and live off of Eddie’s fanny pack! But before you could even say a single syllable, Richie had leaned in and kissed your forehead. Once again, both of your blushes’ were hidden among the light of the starting-to-pinken sky.

“I love you, y/n/n,” is what Richie wanted to say, but was cut off by the fond look you gave Stan Uris when he came running over to greet you both. So he gave Stan a hug, and followed the two of you to the rest of the group, with his head down. If only he had glanced up once, he would notice you staring at him, and not Stan.

Mike, Beverly and Bill were watching a heated discussion between Ben and Eddie, when you and the boys showed up. After accepting a cigarette from Bev, you pulled Stan to the side, asking him for more details about his Bar Mitzvah, “So, Richie,” you smiled at just the thought of his name, “told me you were a little bit of a shit, and not only am I proud of you, I am so angry that you didn’t at least let me watch from the window!” You punched him in the arm lightly, and while you laughed along to Stan’s story about what his mother had said to him after the ceremony, Richie looked on sadly.

“Richie, does a fucking cat have your tongue? Why aren’t you backing me up here?” Eddie’s voice cracked as he threw a rock at the boy in thought.

“Huh? Oh sorry I- I was just thinking back to when- well it wasn’t a cat, but your mother, Eds dear.” It took a moment for the group to register what he had said, but when they did, Beverly fell off of the rock she was sitting on in laughter, Ben had made a disgusted face, and Mike and Bill were quite literally rolling on the ground. Eddie threw a bigger rock at Richie, cursing him out, but this had no effect on him, as he grinned from ear to ear, disgustingly, as Eddie would put it. However, as he turned to catch your reaction, his face dropped again when he instead saw you and Stan having a heated conversation of your own.

By all means, you could tell Stan anything, and it came as no surprise to him two years ago when you confessed your ‘could be’ crush for Richie. But as you explained in detail about the walk over here (including every moment his thumb rubbed against your hand) and the kiss he had planted on your forehead, Stan’s mouth dropped open.

“That is a record amount of time that he has stayed serious for!” he gasped jokingly.

“Stan! I know you don’t think-“

“Of course I don’t think it means anything! He always acts that way around you Y/n!”

“But you should have seen the way-“

“I’ve seen the way he looks at you! It’s not like he keeps it a secret! The whole group knows what he thinks of you. You’re just another girl he makes a challenge of getting-“

“What does that even- what other girls are there?!” you hadn’t noticed that your voice was rising, but the group did, and they slowly ceased their own conversations.

“Look, I just don’t want you to get hurt… I saw him and Bev hanging out at the quarry yesterday, and she had her arm around him… and- he didn’t push it off or anything.” Stan whispered this, eyeing Bill as he did so, in a way of saying mind your own business. The group got back to their chattering quite easily, but Richie had stood up and made his way over to you guys. He noticed that you looked paler than usual, and that your eyes were closed. He knew you too well to know that you were trying your damndest not to cry.

“Y/n, are you alright?” He reached for your hand, and it was as if everything went in slow motion for you and Richie. You opened your eyes, wanting to smile and subconsciously count the freckles on his face, but you didn’t. His hand held yours for a split second as he searched your own eyes, the y/e/c ones he had fallen in love with, looking for an answer. “Hey- what’s wrong-“

You let his hand fall through yours, and replied “It’s okay. Don’t worry, Stan’s got me.”

You might as well have punched him in the gut.

AN: tbh I’ll probably just write a second part regardless because I don’t want it to end on a sad part, but!! if you enjoyed please let me know! and if you didn’t! let me know too!! thank you if you read this :)

#richie tozier #richie tozier imagine #richie tozier x reader #it cast #it cast imagine #it movie #finn wolfhard #finn wolfhard imagine #finn wolfhard x reader #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things cast imagine #mike wheeler #mike wheeler imagine #mike wheeler x reader #richietozierluv #miscommunication

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gamerszone2019-blog · 5 years

Text

Everything You Need to Know About Madden 20's X-Factor Abilities

New Post has been published on https://gamerszone.tn/everything-you-need-to-know-about-madden-20s-x-factor-abilities/

Everything You Need to Know About Madden 20's X-Factor Abilities

Last Edited: August 6, 2019 at 6:37 AM

Abilities and Zone Abilities (the latter also called X-Factors) are new additions to the Madden NFL series starting with Madden NFL 20. Both are tweaks to how players perform at their position, but there are important differences between them.

Abilities are given to about 80 players who are denoted in-game as “Superstars.” These abilities are passive and always on. Most players have no abilities, some have one, and others may have multiple. In the screenshot below, we see Baker Mayfield is one such Superstar. He has two abilities: Last Ditch (which gives a better chance at getting a pass off in the act of being sacked) and Roaming Deadeye (which gives perfect pass accuracy when a pass is executed from outside the pocket).

Note that in Mayfield’s case, Roaming Deadeye’s boost is relative to the receiver rather than the game situation. Just because Mayfield throws a “perfectly accurate” pass doesn’t mean it can’t be deflected or intercepted. It just means that it will be delivered to his target’s hands assuming he’s not getting sacked or otherwise pressured. Depending on the target, even a perfectly accurate pass could still be dropped.

X-Factors are given to 50 players who are denoted in-game as X-Factor players. X-Factors are passive like abilities, but they are not always on. If a player has an X-Factor, they have only that one. Below we see Drew Brees who, in addition to having four abilities, also has the Fearless X-Factor. Fearless allows him to throw every pass with its accuracy unaffected by any defensive pressure.

When a game starts, X-Factors will be off; the player needs to perform specific actions during the game. As they do these actions, they will start to get “in the zone.” All X-Factor players will have an X under their feet on the field, and when they are fully in the zone, the X will start sparking and flashing to indicate it’s on. It can be turned off and on without limit during the game assuming the conditions are met.

The indicator that shows the charge level of your X-Factor players is subtle. It’s shown only during play calling screens and you may miss it in the heat of choosing a play. In the screenshot below, the Cincinnati Bengals are the active team. Look for the large red circle in the bottom-right corner. The interface shows the QB and HB both are X-Factor players and that neither have achieved any goals toward how they need to activate their X-Factors.

Note that the status of opposition players is not shown to you on the play calling screen. In the game shown above, the Baltimore Ravens have Earl Thomas III, the free safety, who is also an X-Factor player. However, because this game is a single-player one, Thomas’s status of X-Factor is not shown despite him being actively on the field.

Opposition X-Factor players are shown briefly during pre-snap coach cam. After a play is chosen and prior to the snap whether you’re on offense or defense, hold R2/RT to bring up the coach cam. You’ll see your X-Factor Players either on the left or right part of the screen, and the opponent’s X-Factor players on the other side.

While the coach cam is on, you can also tilt the right stick up or down to view the exact locations of any X-Factor players. Note that the play clock continues to tick down while you’re doing all this, so if you’re on offense you’ll need to make and decisions quickly so you’re not hit with a delay of game penalty.

On the main menu and on player cards in Franchise, you can see what conditions are needed to toggle the X-Factor. Continuing the Drew Brees example, notice below that he must make consecutive passes that travel at least five yards in the air. With enough consecutive passes done, his X-Factor will activate. However, the X-Factor will turn off as he takes sacks.

Note that if you play Face of the Franchise or Be a Player in a standard Franchise file, your character will always have an X-Factor. You can change it freely between games, and you can unlock more when you reach 85 OVR in each archetype for your position. Either way, you can view what a given ability or X-Factor will do before selecting it.

If you play a standard Franchise file in Be a Coach or Be an Owner mode, most players will not develop abilities or X-Factors. Players who already have them cannot change them.

From the main menu as seen above, you can view all the X-Factors and standard abilities of all players within the league. Head to the Settings tile (with the little gear), then select “View Superstar X-Factors.” In a Franchise file, there is no quick way to view the entire league like that, so instead you’ll need to look for their player cards.

Below is a list of all the players in Madden NFL 2020 who have X-Factors, which team their on, what position they play, and what their X-Factor does. The list is current based on the most recent downloadable roster as of August 5, 2019.

Arizona Cardinals[edit]

No X-Factor players

Atlanta Falcons[edit]

Julio Jones, WR Double Me: Increases chance of aggressive receptions in single coverage Activated by making catches of over 20 yards (including yards-after-catch) but needs to be targeted by passes consecutively

Baltimore Ravens[edit]

Earl Thomas III, FS Zone Hawk: Increases the chance he’ll make a deflection or interception in zone coverage Activated by forcing incompletions and not allowing yards

Buffalo Bills[edit]

No X-Factor players

Carolina Panthers[edit]

Luke Kuchly, MLB Shutdown: Tightens coverage on WRs and increases the chance he’ll make an interception Activated by forcing incompletions and not allowing yards

Christian McCaffrey, HB Satellite: Increases chance of RAC and possession receptions in single coverage Activated by making catches of over 10 yards (including yards-after-catch) but needs to be targeted by passes consecutively

Cam Newton, QB Freight Train: Increases the chance the next tackle attempt will fail Activated by scrambling for over 10 yards and not taking sacks

Chicago Bears[edit]

Khalil Mack, LOLB Unstoppable Force: Quicker block shedding Activated by sacking the QB and not allowing yards

Eddie Jackson, FS Zone Hawk: Increases the chance he’ll make a deflection or interception in zone coverage Activated by forcing incompletions and not allowing yards

Cincinnati Bengals[edit]

Geno Atkins, DT Unstoppable Force: Quicker block shedding Activated by sacking the QB and not allowing yards

AJ Green, WR Double Me: Increases chance of aggressive receptions in single coverage Activated by making catches of over 20 yards (including yards-after-catch) but needs to be targeted by passes consecutively

Cleveland Browns[edit]

Odell Beckham Jr, WR Rac ‘Em Up: Increases chance of RAC receptions in single coverage Activated by making catches of over 20 yards (including yards-after-catch) but needs to be targeted by passes consecutively

Myles Garrett, RE Unstoppable Force: Quicker block shedding Activated by sacking the QB and not allowing yards

Dallas Cowboys[edit]

Ezekiel Elliott, HB First One Free: Significantly higher chance of success on the first juke or spin during a run or reception Activated by rushing for over 10 yards and not taking tackles for losses

Byron Jones, CB Shutdown: Tightens coverage on WRs and increases the chance he’ll make an interception Activated by forcing incompletions and not allowing yards

DeMarcus Lawrence, LE Unstoppable Force: Quicker block shedding Activated by sacking the QB and not allowing yards

Denver Broncos[edit]

Von Miller, LOLB Fearmonger: Pressures the QB (and lowering their accuracy) even while engaged by a blocker Activated by sacking the QB and not allowing yards

Chris Harris Jr, CB Shutdown: Tightens coverage on WRs and increases the chance he’ll make an interception Activated by forcing incompletions and not allowing yards

Detroit Lions[edit]

No X-Factor players

Green Bay Packers[edit]

Aaron Rodgers, QB Gambler: AI-controlled defenders of all positions cannot make interceptions, only deflections. Player-controlled defenders can still intercept with proper timing. Activated by completing consecutive passes that fly at least 5 yards in the air and not taking sacks

Houston Texans[edit]

DeAndre Hopkins, WR Double Me: Increases chance of aggressive receptions in single coverage Activated by making catches of over 20 yards (including yards-after-catch) but needs to be targeted by passes consecutively

JJ Watt, LE Fearmonger: Pressures the QB (and lowering their accuracy) even while engaged by a blocker Activated by sacking the QB and not allowing yards

Indianapolis Colts[edit]

Andrew Luck, QB Pro Reads: The first open WR during a passing play will be highlighted on-field if the QB stays in the pocket Activated by completing consecutive passes that fly at least 5 yards in the air and not taking sacks

Jacksonville Jaguars[edit]

Calais Campbell, LE Unstoppable Force: Quicker block shedding Activated by sacking the QB and not allowing yards

Jalen Ramsey, CB Shutdown: Tightens coverage on WRs and increases the chance he’ll make an interception Activated by forcing incompletions and not allowing yards

Kansas City Chiefs[edit]

Travis Kelce, TE Double Me: Increases chance of aggressive receptions in single coverage Activated by making catches of over 20 yards (including yards-after-catch) but needs to be targeted by passes consecutively

Patrick Mahomes, QB Bazooka: Maximum throwing distance is increased by 15 yards Activated by completing passes that fly at least 30 yards in the air and not taking sacks

Los Angeles Chargers[edit]

Joey Bosa, LE Unstoppable Force: Quicker block shedding Activated by sacking the QB and not allowing yards

Melvin Gordon III, HB First One Free: Significantly higher chance of success on the first juke or spin during a run or reception Activated by rushing for over 10 yards and not taking tackles for losses

Derwin James, SS Reinforcement: Increases his chance of shedding run blocks, tackling runners, and deflecting passes Activated by forcing incompletions or performing tackles for loss, and not allowing yards

Philip Rivers, QB Fearless: Negates pass accuracy penalty when pressured by the defense Activated by completing consecutive passes that fly at least 5 yards in the air and not taking sacks

Los Angeles Rams[edit]

Aaron Donald, RE Fearmonger: Pressures the QB (and lowering their accuracy) even while engaged by a blocker Activated by sacking the QB and not allowing yards

Todd Gurley II, HB First One Free: Significantly higher chance of success on the first juke or spin during a run or reception Activated by rushing for over 10 yards and not taking tackles for losses

Miami Dolphins[edit]

No X-Factor players

Minnesota Vikings[edit]

Harrison Smith, SS Reinforcement: Increases his chance of shedding run blocks, tackling runners, and deflecting passes Activated by forcing incompletions or performing tackles for loss, and not allowing yards

Adam Thielen, WR Double Me: Increases chance of aggressive receptions in single coverage Activated by making catches of over 20 yards (including yards-after-catch) but needs to be targeted by passes consecutively

New England Patriots[edit]

Tom Brady, QB Pro Reads: The first open WR during a passing play will be highlighted on-field if the QB stays in the pocket Activated by completing consecutive passes that fly at least 5 yards in the air and not taking sacks

Stephon Gilmore, CB Shutdown: Tightens coverage on WRs and increases the chance he’ll make an interception Activated by forcing incompletions and not allowing yards

New Orleans Saints[edit]

Drew Brees, QB Fearless: Negates pass accuracy penalty when pressured by the defense Activated by completing consecutive passes that fly at least 5 yards in the air and not taking sacks

Cameron Jordan, LE Unstoppable Force: Quicker block shedding Activated by sacking the QB and not allowing yards

Alvin Kamara, HB Satellite: Increases chance of RAC and possession receptions in single coverage Activated by making catches of over 10 yards (including yards-after-catch) but needs to be targeted by passes consecutively

Michael Thomas, WR Double Me: Increases chance of aggressive receptions in single coverage Activated by making catches of over 20 yards (including yards-after-catch) but needs to be targeted by passes consecutively

New York Giants[edit]

Saquon Barkley, HB First One Free: Significantly higher chance of success on the first juke or spin during a run or reception Activated by rushing for over 10 yards and not taking tackles for losses

New York Jets[edit]

Le’Veon Bell, HB First One Free: Significantly higher chance of success on the first juke or spin during a run or reception Activated by rushing for over 10 yards and not taking tackles for losses

Oakland Raiders[edit]

Antonio Brown, WR Rac ‘Em Up: Increases chance of RAC receptions in single coverage Activated by making catches of over 20 yards (including yards-after-catch) but needs to be targeted by passes consecutively

Philadelphia Eagles[edit]

Fletcher Cox, DT Fearmonger: Pressures the QB (and lowering their accuracy) even while engaged by a blocker Activated by sacking the QB and not allowing yards

Pittsburgh Steelers[edit]

Ben Roethlisberger, QB Pro Reads: The first open WR during a passing play will be highlighted on-field if the QB stays in the pocket Activated by completing consecutive passes that fly at least 5 yards in the air and not taking sacks

JuJu Smith-Schuster, WR Double Me: Increases chance of aggressive receptions in single coverage Activated by making catches of over 20 yards (including yards-after-catch) but needs to be targeted by passes consecutively

San Francisco 49ers[edit]

George Kittle, TE Rac ‘Em Up: Increases chance of RAC receptions in single coverage Activated by making catches of over 20 yards (including yards-after-catch) but needs to be targeted by passes consecutively

Richard Sherman, CB Shutdown: Tightens coverage on WRs and increases the chance he’ll make an interception Activated by forcing incompletions and not allowing yards

Seattle Seahawks[edit]

Bobby Wagner, MLB Shutdown: Tightens coverage on WRs and increases the chance he’ll make an interception Activated by forcing incompletions and not allowing yards

Russell Wilson, QB Blitz Radar: Highlights on-field any non-linemen who are blitzing after the snap Activated by scrambling for over 10 yards and not taking sacks

Tampa Bay Buccaneers[edit]

Mike Evans, WR Double Me: Increases chance of aggressive receptions in single coverage Activated by making catches of over 20 yards (including yards-after-catch) but needs to be targeted by passes consecutively

Tennessee Titans[edit]

No X-Factor players

Washington Redskins[edit]

No X-Factor players

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haroldgross · 5 years

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New Post has been published on Harold Gross: The 5a.m. Critic

New Post has been published on http://literaryends.com/hgblog/oscars-2019-final-call/

Oscars 2019 - Final Call

Well here we are at the end of the awards season rainbow. And since the nominations, there have been a slew of awards given out: The Annies, The Eddies, PGA, Art Directors Guild, ASC, SAG-AFTRA, Directors Guild, Writers Guild, BAFTA, CDG, etc.

Normally, these other ceremonies would have given a strong indication of who was likely to win tomorrow night, but this has been an odd year for a number of reasons. First, the talent in competition is all very good and all very different. Second, a lot of the nominees weren’t in direct competition in the same ceremonies and some of the winners weren’t nominated for Oscars. And third, Netflix. There is a love/hate thing going on in Hollywood with the rise of the streaming giant which could help or hurt it.

I think the public is well ahead of the Academy in making its decision about the legitimacy of streaming services and the release window. The viewing public makes little distinction between a theater and their home screen anymore. It is a meaningless distinction because TVs and sounds systems have gotten so much bigger and better and because of the ongoing shift to on-demand entertainment and the quality it offers.

My biggest concern as this continues is how it will affect the studio choices for what ends up on the large screen. A steady diet of action and musicals would not be my favorite result. I like the smaller scope and surprising films. It would have been criminal for BlacKkKlansmen, for example, to miss a theatrical release, or The Wife. But neither needs a big screen to succeed, though I saw both in theater, whether or not they are filmed well. The rise of AMC’s A-List and Cinemark’s club, not to mention the dying-in-the-dust MoviePass, are removing that barrier as well. The Academy needs to catch up to the reality or risk simply becoming irrelevant amidst the sea of other awards bodies.

OK, enough banter. On with the predictions…

THE MAJOR AWARDS

Actress in a Leading Role

Yalitza Aparicio, Roma Glenn Close, The Wife Olivia Colman, The Favourite Lady Gaga, A Star Is Born Melissa McCarthy, Can You Ever Forgive Me?

While this has always been between Close and Colman, I had thought Colman had the edge with the voters until recently. I think the number of unsatisfied nominations for Close, not to mention the incredible performance, are likely to take the night. Though, as I originally said, there isn’t a nomination in this category, including Gaga, who aren’t worthy of the honor.

My choice: Glen Close Likely win: Glen Close

Actor in a Leading Role

Christian Bale, Vice Bradley Cooper, A Star Is Born Willem Dafoe, At Eternity’s Gate Rami Malek, Bohemian Rhapsody Viggo Mortensen, Green Book

Given the options, I really felt this should have gone to Bale, but there is no momentum for him. Given Malek’s number of wins and current societal glow, I’m thinking he’s going to walk away with it. Should he and Bale split the votes, Cooper may come up the middle, but the even money is on Malek.

My choice: Christian Bale Likely win: Rami Malek

Actor in a Supporting Role

Mahershala Ali, Green Book Adam Driver, BlacKkKlansman Sam Elliott, A Star Is Born Richard E. Grant, Can You Ever Forgive Me? Sam Rockwell, Vice

Supporting roles are hard to pin some times. But this year, Ali has swept the awards for his phenomenal performance. Richard E. Grant had a good shot, but he couldn’t even pick up BAFTA this year, so it would be a hard win for him, though it is also a great performance.

My choice: Mahershala Ali Likely win: Mahershala Ali

Actress in a Supporting Role

Amy Adams, Vice Marina de Tavira, Roma Regina King, If Beale Street Could Talk Emma Stone, The Favourite Rachel Weisz, The Favourite

I still think Stone and Weisz should have to mud wrestle for the win here. And Weisz should take it. However, King has been consistently snagging the statuettes and has quite the reputation.

My choice: Rachel Weisz Likely win: Regina King

Adapted Screenplay

The Ballad of Buster Scruggs, Joel Coen & Ethan Coen BlacKkKlansman, Charlie Wachtel & David Rabinowitz and Kevin Willmott & Spike Lee Can You Ever Forgive Me?, Nicole Holofcener and Jeff Whitty If Beale Street Could Talk, Barry Jenkins A Star Is Born, Eric Roth and Bradley Cooper & Will Fetters

I think the lack of adherence to the absolute facts, regardless of artistic merit or commentary, is going to cost BlacKkKlansman (and Green Book, for that matter, in its category). Beale Street has its own momentum, and I think there is sympathy for that film. But Can You Ever Forgive Me? has always been my choice here and it is a wonderful and tight script. The movie has little other chance to win anything and it’s surprise win at the WGA, with a substantially similar field, certainly gives the possibility of a win some weight.

My choice: Can You Ever Forgive Me? Likely win: Can You Ever Forgive Me?

Original Screenplay

The Favourite, Deborah Davis and Tony McNamara First Reformed, Paul Schrader Green Book, Nick Vallelonga, Brian Currie, Peter Farrelly Roma, Alfonso Cuarón Vice, Adam McKay

Here, again, the WGA ceremony shifted the possibilities. Outside of the problems around truth and Green Book (some background and info to refute the misinformation) it is a tough field. Favourite had some early momentum, but Roma has been overtaking it. And, depending on how Best Picture swings, this is often a consolation prize. But then the wonderful Eight Grade walked away with the WGA, and it wasn’t even nominated for an Oscar. Of course, WGA had a significantly different field as well. I’m suspecting a lot of vote splitting here and a likely surprise. Being forced to choose, however, here’s what I’m thinking…

My choice: Green Book Likely win: Green Book

Cinematography

Cold War, Lukasz Zal The Favourite, Robbie Ryan Never Look Away, Caleb Deschanel Roma, Alfonso Cuarón A Star Is Born, Matthew Libatique

Cold War’s win at the ASC awards put it ahead of the presumed choice, Roma, since it won from a nearly identical field by a lot of the same voters. I loved Cuarón’s use of the camera, both in visuals and as a character. I haven’t had the chance to see Cold War yet, which leaves me at a disadvantage here, though from trailers and samples I can see it is an equally beautifully filmed movie. With the ASC win, this has become a toss-up between the two. Because Cuarón also used the camera as moving eye, incorporating it as part of the action rather than just as a capture device, I’m inclined to keep my choice there and hope that the other voters agree.

My choice: Roma Likely win: Roma

Directing

Spike Lee, BlacKkKlansman Pawel Pawlikowski, Cold War Yorgos Lanthimos, The Favourite Alfonso Cuarón, Roma Adam McKay, Vice

Roma has the momentum going in here. But I think that BlacKkKlansman may just edge it out as Lee has never been nominated in this category before. It’s time he had some recognition and I don’t think he can take Best Picture and I don’t expect him to get best screenplay. Typically the two categories are tied, however, so if the Netflix factor doesn’t shift the vote, Cuarón may pick this up as well.

My choice: Spike Lee Likely win: Spike Lee

Best Picture

Black Panther BlacKkKlansman Bohemian Rhapsody The Favourite Green Book Roma A Star Is Born Vice

I don’t even know what this category means anymore. Is it by what’s popular, what’s fun, what’s brave, what took the most skills? Roma and The Favorite are certainly the big guns with momentum… but that also gives voters more chance to recognize them without having to hand over the Best Picture award. Winners from the other events are all over the place. With the exception of Black Panther (fun and surprising as it is, it just doesn’t hold up on rewatch), any of the nominees could legitimately win for their quality. And Best Pic is a preferential ballot, so Green Book may come up the middle as everyone’s second choice is there isn’t a clear first round winner. So, crap shoot.

My choice: Green Book Likely win: Roma

THE NEXT TIER AWARDS

Animated Feature Film

Incredibles 2 Isle of Dogs Mirai Ralph Breaks the Internet Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse

Nothing in the intervening time between nomination and tonight have changed my opinions. Add to that its near sweep at The Annies and Spider-Man should walk away with this award.

My choice: Spider-Man Likely win: Spider-Man

Foreign Language Film

Capernaum (Lebanon) Cold War (Poland) Never Look Away (Germany) Roma (Mexico) Shoplifters (Japan)

Shoplifters would have been my early bet here, but Roma is truly a great film and has huge momentum and a ton of noms. And the two cover similar territory in their stories. Those who have no interest in voting for it for Best Pic are likely to balance that by voting for it here. It may well cost Roma as Best Pic ultimately that the safety valve exists. Then again, if it is really aiming at Best Pic, then I don’t think it will get the votes here and Shoplifters could come to the top…which I think is the more likely scenario. But Roma could surprise and win both (or neither).

My Choice: Shoplifters Likely Win: Shoplifters

Documentary Feature

Free Solo Hale County This Morning, This Evening Minding the Gap Of Fathers and Sons RBG

How Won’t You Be My Neighbor and Three Identical Strangers missed this list, I don’t understand. However, this is the field we have to work with. But I’ll also admit I’ve not seen the majority of the nominees. Given the current state of politics, however, I’m going with our SCOTUS rep even if Free Solo wow’d audiences consistently.

My Choice: RBG Likely Win: RBG

Documentary Short Subject

Black Sheep (The Guardian) End Game (Netflix) Lifeboat A Night at the Garden (Field of Vision) Period. End Of Sentence

Likely Win: Period. End Of Sentence.

Animated Short Film

Animal Behaviour Bao Late Afternoon One Small Step Weekends

Likely Win: Bao (cause, Pixar)

Live Action Short Film

Detainment Fauve Marguerite Mother Skin

Likely Win: Marguerite

THE TECHNICAL AWARDS

Production Design (production; set)

Black Panther, Hannah Beachler; Jay Hart The Favourite, Fiona Crombie; Alice Felton First Man, Nathan Crowley; Kathy Lucas Mary Poppins Returns, John Myhre; Gordon Sim Roma, Eugenio Caballero; Bárbara Enríquez

An incredibly diverse and difficult field. There are no apples to apples here to choose from, so it is wide open. Black Panther, to my mind, had the most challenging issues and best results. They got to play in the past and future as well. But I’m thinking it will go more traditional. This is where The Favourite could get some consolation prizes or Mary Poppins, which is mostly ignored this year, could get a some love.

My choice: Black Panther Likely win: Mary Poppins Returns

Costume Design

The Ballad of Buster Scruggs, Mary Zophres Black Panther, Ruth Carter The Favourite, Sandy Powell Mary Poppins Returns, Sandy Powell Mary Queen of Scots, Alexandra Byrne

With Panther and The Favourite having picked up equal awards from the Costume Designers Guild in different categories, it doesn’t make this category any easier to predict. The Oscars usually go for period pieces, with science fiction being snubbed other than for f/x.

My choice: Black Panther Likely win: The Favourite (though Mary Poppins could sweep in)

Film Editing

BlacKkKlansman, Barry Alexander Brown Bohemian Rhapsody, John Ottman The Favourite, Yorgos Mavropsaridis Green Book, Patrick J. Don Vito Vice, Hank Corwin

I’ll say again, all of these films have solid editing, but only one lived and died by its edits: Vice. However. Vice wasn’t even nominated for an Eddie this year, so the fact that Bohemian Rhapsody and The Favourite won there wasn’t much help. But against those, Vice did pick up the BAFTA. And, of course, this is one of those which could become either part of a sweep for a juggernaut or a consolation prize for a film that may otherwise go unnoticed. But I’m sticking to my guns on this one. From a story-telling point of view, I didn’t think either of the Eddie winners came close the impact editing had for the remaining nominees. And of those, Vice was the only one to use the craft to enhance the story rather than to just shock or move it along. I will admit, every time I’ve thought along these lines, I’ve been wrong, so if Bohemian takes this, I won’t be shocked, I’ll just be disappointed.

My Choice: Vice Likely win: Vice

Original Score

Black Panther, Ludwig Goransson BlacKkKlansman, Terence Blanchard If Beale Street Could Talk, Nicholas Britell Isle of Dogs, Alexandre Desplat Mary Poppins Returns, Marc Shaiman

If old-school Hollywood wins out, Mary Poppins will be a runaway. It is certainly one of the more classic and evident scores in the field, and complex while trying to maintain and reflect on the original. Music certainly pushed along the tale in Isle of Dogs in an engaging, if repetitive, way, and the others were more subtly supported.

Likely win: Mary Poppins Returns

Original Song

“All The Stars” — Black Panther “I’ll Fight” — RBG “The Place Where Lost Things Go” — Mary Poppins Returns “Shallow” — A Star Is Born “When A Cowboy Trades His Spurs For Wings” — The Ballad of Buster Scruggs

There is only one song here that has any traction to my mind. It isn’t perfect (and story-wise it shouldn’t be) but just try to get it out of your head.

Likely Win: Shallow

Visual Effects

Avengers: Infinity War Christopher Robin First Man Ready Player One Solo: A Star Wars Story

Despite the wealth of blockbusters here, one is infinitely better than the rest in scope and seamlessness…

Likely win: Avengers: Infinity War

Makeup and Hairstyling

Border, Göran Lundström and Pamela Goldammer Mary Queen of Scots, Jenny Shircore, Marc Pilcher and Jessica Brooks Vice, Greg Cannom, Kate Biscoe and Patricia DeHaney

Typically, I’d stay the period piece would get this hands-down, but Vice has magic in its blood with its makeup and hair, completely remaking its actors and capturing the period perfectly.

Likely win: Vice

Sound Editing

Black Panther Bohemian Rhapsody First Man A Quiet Place Roma

The MPSE awards certainly confused this category. Roma, Bohemian Rhapsody, and A Quiet Place each walked away with sound editing honors in different categories. For the Oscars, they are all dumped into the same bucket. The momentum and recognition is likely to be with Bohemian Rhapsody, though the surprise hit A Quiet Place might get some love here.

My choice: A Quiet Place Likely win: Bohemian Rhapsody

Sound Mixing

Black Panther Bohemian Rhapsody First Man Roma A Star Is Born

My choice: Bohemian Rhapsody Likely win: Bohemian Rhapsody

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