#and maybe shuffle some events around? like maybe eddie still gets shot but by a disgruntled former patient this time and

[try-set-me-on-fire]

Ok well i had the brief thought “what about an ER nurse Eddie au?” and then this popped fully formed into existence so fuck it Friday pt 2.. warnings for smoking and vague references to critically injured kids

“That doesn’t seem very healthy.”

Smoke curls up from the cigarette held loosely in Eddie’s hand. “It’s not, particularly.”

Buck’s hands are in his pockets as he strolls away from the glass doors out into the ambulance bay where Eddie is doing the mature, professional equivalent of playing hide and seek. He comes to a stop barely a foot or two away from where Eddie leans against grimy concrete. “Didn’t know you were a smoker.”

“I’m not,” Eddie sighs, “Particularly.” He looks over Buck’s face as he takes a drag, cataloging bruises and cuts. He hadn’t been the one to look him over before he was discharged, probably because he was out here avoiding having to do so. “Only when it’s- only after the bad shifts.” And only once a month, even if the bad shifts come again and again. He bought this pack in January, it’s stale as shit.

Buck’s eyes follow the smoke as it drifts skyward. “Rough one today?”

Eddie thinks he probably doesn’t have to explain to Buck that it’s sometimes better when a kid is dead on arrival so he doesn’t have to try his best to administer care he knows will be useless. He doesn’t have to explain a day where nothing goes right and he loses more people than he can save and he still has to walk away from someone’s parent or wife or sister, left behind forever in a waiting room on the worst day of their life, and go on to lose the next person too. Doesn’t have to explain why he’s out here, and not in there. “Mm. We’ve got this repeat customer, always hate to have him back.”

Buck’s eyes flick to his face before they settle somewhere around his elbow. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. He seems like a nice guy. I worry about him. He’s here too often.”

Buck doesn’t look up. “What was he in for this time?”

“Minor concussion. Bruising. Lacerations.” Eddie sucks cancer into his lungs. “Heard a house fell on him.” Exhales it into the night.

Buck does look up this time, eyes a darker blue out here in the shadows. “Part of a house. Just a staircase and the- like, the balcony, really.”

“Maybe he should stay away from those.”

“From houses?” Buck asks, half his mouth twitching into a smile.

Eddie rests his head on the wall behind him. “Guess that’s not really practical.”

“No.” Buck is quiet for a moment, one hand slipping out of his pocket and running through his hair. Eddie wonders what he looks like, when he’s not here. He’s more styled, sometimes, when things aren’t very bad. He wonders if he’s usually all gelled up and neat. Eddie kind of likes the loose curls. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“Making your day worse.” Buck looks genuinely apologetic, and Eddie shakes his head.

“The guy made it out okay this time.” Buck is just close enough that Eddie can kick at his boot with his sensible orthopedic sneaker. “You didn’t even need stitches.”

“That’s good.” Eddie’s left foot is pressed along the inside of Buck’s right, and Buck is staring down at them. “His favorite nurse was on break. I would have missed you if someone else had to do them.”

Eddie laughs, just a few bursts of soundless oxygen. “You gotta find new ways to see me before something happens that I can’t fix.”

Buck moves, taking the few steps necessary to lean against the wall beside him. Carefully, he takes the cigarette from Eddie’s hand, holds it between two of his own fingers, and takes a drag. Eddie watches it happen like he’s monitoring somebody’s pulse ox, and when Buck coughs he laughs again, louder this time. “Fuck,” Buck says, laughing too. “Thought that would be cooler than it was.”

“Smoking isn’t cool, firefighter Buckley,” Eddie says, taking the cigarette back and pulling from it again between smiling lips.

“Hm,” Buck says, grinning out into the night. Then he sighs, and rolls his head along the concrete to look at Eddie. “I think there’s nothing you can’t fix.”

They’re very close. “There’s lots I can’t fix.”

Buck shrugs like he disagrees. “I also think I’d like to find other ways to see you.”

Buck’s eyes are even more in shadow at this angle, and they’re the color of the lake back in El Paso that he and a bunch of kids went to after graduation, drunk off beer somebody’s cousin got for them, skinny dipping with breathless terrified delight under bright constellations. “Then ask me.”

Buck inhales as Eddie exhales. “What time’s your shift end?”

“5:30 AM. So, probably 6:15.”

Buck traces the two fingers he’d used to hold the cigarette down Eddie’s arm. “You wanna get breakfast with me?”

“Yes. I would.”

Buck smiles, and Eddie snubs out the cigarette on the wall between them. “I’ll meet you here?”

“Alright.” He takes a step forward, then a step to the right so he’s standing in front of Buck. “Two hours.”

“Uh huh.”

He should really get back inside. They’re understaffed, as always, and there are too many patients, as always, and not enough beds, as always. “See you then.” He doesn’t make any move to leave.

“See you then,” Buck almost whispers. He leans forward, and Eddie still doesn’t move, so he presses a tiny kiss to the corner of his mouth for just a moment. His lips are warm. Eddie hadn’t noticed it was cold outside.

Buck pulls back and leans against the wall again. Eddie smiles, puts a hand in his pocket, and walks back toward the doors.

#my writing #fuck it Friday #i swear I’m going to finish trapped buck and Chris and work on proposal fic before i work on this more #but it would be a bunch of glimpses of Buck’s various hospital trips from Eddie’s nurse perspective #and maybe shuffle some events around? like maybe eddie still gets shot but by a disgruntled former patient this time and #so he does a stint in the maternity ward and buck shows up there #and Eddie is like you’re having a kid? #and bucks like no my sister is what are you doing here #and when buck gets the story he’s like fuck. shit. im sorry i wasnt there #and eddies like picturing seeing buck in that moment of violence and says im glad you weren’t #also Eddie could still be the one who restarts his heart after the lightning strike #this bit is maybe the last scene actually sorry for posting the end first #have a good breakfast boys #buddie #evan Buckley #eddie diaz #911 abc

[buckleyblueyes]

if you're doing the soft prompts thing, could i request " i knew you wouldn't go to sleep willingly, so i brought you some chamomile tea and a blanket. twenty minutes of shut-eye, okay? " + buddie? preferably post shooting but whatever you like, thank you ❤

At long last! I am finally filling this prompt! It didn't turn out to be a recovery fic, but it's definitely impacted by the events of 4x14, so I really hope you like it! It's very soft.

Buck is being ridiculous. Absolutely irrational. He’s well aware of this fact. And yet, he finds his thumb hovering over the call button.

It’s not like it’s Christopher’s first sleepover. He’s eleven years old, of course it’s not. It’s not his first sleepover since the pandemic, either, or since Eddie was shot. He’s had quite a few since then, actually. It’s not even his first sleepover since he and Eddie went from work partners to life partners.

But it is Christopher’s first sleepover since Buck moved in with them. The first time he spent his evening cooking dinner for only two. The first time he didn’t have to help with homework or watch a movie that Christopher picked out. The first time in a month that Buck has had to go to sleep without kissing his head goodnight.

And sure, there were good parts. There are certain benefits to being alone with his boyfriend and not having to worry about being unknowingly interrupted by an eleven year old. But it’s nearly midnight now and all that’s left to do is sleep--or at least, pretend to sleep while actually staring at the ceiling and wait for a panicked middle of the night call because something went wrong.

He’s sitting up in the bed he and Eddie now share, phone in hand, willing himself not to call Christopher and check in. He knows Christopher is a pre-teen now, that he’s probably having a great time, that his calling would just be embarrassing, and probably (hopefully) wake him up. He sighs, tossing his phone down on the empty pillow beside him. It’s going to be a long night.

Eddie is supposed to be in bed with him, and he’s sure being alone is making it worse. He’s not even sure where Eddie is--he said he would follow Buck to bed after getting some water and brushing his teeth--but it’s been a little too long for just teeth brushing, so Buck has a feeling his boyfriend is up to something. His suspicions are confirmed a moment later when he hears the tea kettle whistling. Odd, considering the tea kettle is Buck’s, something he brought with him when he moved in--Eddie isn’t a big tea drinker, usually only drinking it when he’s sick, preferring to caffeinate with coffee.

Buck only has to wonder what Eddie is doing for a few moments before Eddie shuffles into their bedroom, a blanket Buck recognizes from Christopher’s bed piled under one arm and a steaming mug in the other hand.

“Whatcha got there?” Buck asks, glad for a distraction at least.

“Well,” Eddie sets the mug down on Buck’s bedside table. “I knew you wouldn’t go to sleep willingly, so I brought you some chamomile tea and a blanket.” He tosses the blanket at Buck’s face. It smells like Christopher’s no-tears kid shampoo, and Buck inhales deeply. “Twenty-minutes of shut-eye, okay?”

Buck spreads the twin sized blanket out over his side of the bed. “You made me tea?”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “Are you or are you not going over every possible worst case scenario in your head right now?”

“Uh.” Buck swallows, sheepish. “Maybe?”

“Exactly.” Eddie crawls into bed next to Buck, picks up Buck’s phone from his pillow, stretches to place it next to the mug, and finally wraps an arm around him. “I just want to help you relax.”

“Even though I’m being totally irrational?” Buck asks, leaning into Eddie’s embrace.

“Yup.” Eddie drops a kiss onto the top of Buck’s head. “I remember Christopher’s first sleepover. I sent that mom so many emails. And then I didn’t sleep at all, I was just waiting for something to go wrong.”

“But he was younger then, and this isn’t his first--”

“It’s your first, though.” Eddie cuts him off. “I know you’ve loved him for a long time, but this is the first night since you moved in that he hasn’t been here.”

Buck sips his tea and grips the blanket a little tighter. “I miss him.”

Eddie chuckles, low and warm. “I know.”

“Do you ever...get used to this feeling?” Buck asks carefully.

“If you mean, will you ever stop worrying about him when you’re not around to protect him, the answer is no,” Eddie shakes his head. “That’s what being a parent is.”

“I’m not a--”

“Evan, you better not have been about to say you’re not a parent,” Eddie says, voice so firm and serious that Buck has no choice but to listen. “You’ve loved Christopher like he was your own since before we were even dating. You take care of him, you worry about him, you always help him when he needs it.”

Buck’s heart feels like it’s about to burst out of his chest. “Of course--of course I love him so much, but you’re his dad. But it’s not like I’m--maybe if we were--but I’m just your boyfriend.”

“Maybe if we were what?” Eddie narrows his eyes. “If we were married?”

Buck’s throat is dry. Sometimes he really hates how easily Eddie can read him. “Uh.”

“Because we could do that,” Eddie continues. “If that’s something you want.”

And now Buck’s brain is short-circuiting. “Is it something you want?”

Eddie bites his lip. “I didn’t think it was, not after Shannon. But…” He sighs. “I told Chimney once that tomorrow isn’t promised to anyone, and I know that you’re it for me, and it’s not like Shannon and I had much of a wedding anyway, so it might be nice to, I don’t know, do it right? If it’s what you want.”

“I do,” Buck answers hastily. “Want that. I already know we’re forever, but I think it would...help. With some of my doubts. If we made it official.”

Eddie beams. “Then I guess we’re getting married.”

Buck can’t quite remember how to breathe. There are so many words he wants to say, but none of them seem right, so he just pulls Eddie into a soft kiss, which Eddie reciprocates eagerly. “I love you so much,” he murmurs when he pulls back. “Of course I want to marry you.”

“I love you so much, too.” Eddie presses a kiss to his temple, and then one to his jaw, and a few to his neck.

They fall into a comfortable silence for a few moments, the only sounds in the room the sounds of soft breaths and Buck sipping on his tea.

“Are you feeling better?” Eddie asks, breaking the silence.

Buck considers this for a moment. There’s still worry gnawing at him, but he feels less silly about it now. And most of him is simply overwhelmed with happiness. “Yeah, yeah I am.”

“Good.” Eddie gives a brisk nod. “Now shut up, drink your leaf water, and go to sleep.”

“Actually, chamomile tea is made with the blossoms of the--”

“Buck.”

#buddie #this is SO domestic #idk how this prompt turned into a lowkey proposal fic??????? #but here we are #I just liked the idea of Buck being worried about Christopher #buddie fanfic #buddie fic #buddie drabble #my fan fiction

[madamewriterofwrongs]

May and the Rainbow Kingdom

911/Buck & May

Written for @cirrius-akiyo who wanted a Buck & May friendship.

The station was unusually quiet when she walked through the front door. The trucks were still in their place, being polished and restocked by other crew members – most of whom paid her no mind or recognized her as the ‘captain’s kid’. She’d only been called that once, but she remembered the uneasy feeling and the sneer of the probationary officer’s voice. A well-practiced eyebrow raised, and her best customer service smile, ensured he never bothered her again.

Today she wasn’t here as the ‘captain’s kid’, she was here as a friend in need of help from another – older and wiser – friend. A glance at the ambulance missing from its usual station dampened her expectations slightly.

“Hey, May.” She looked up to see a familiar face waving at her from the loft and she jogged to meet him.

“Hey, Buck. I was hoping to talk to Hen, is she around?”

The blond-haired firefighter returned to his task of tidying the upper floor (the table smelt comfortingly of bleach and lemon so he was nearly done) while she knelt on the couch to watch him work.

“Sorry; she just left on a call with Chim and Bobby. Is there anything I can help you with?”

She tried to keep the dejected sigh from her voice. “How versed are you on Bioethics of Non-Existence?”

It was almost comical, the way Buck paused in his sweeping to take in her question. “I definitely recognize some of those words.”

As she suspected; May turned to collapse onto the couch with a groan. “I really needed to talk to Hen.” Not that she didn’t trust the other adults in her life – Maddie had tried to help, but she’d been out of Medicine for too long – Hen was her last hope.

“School going that well, huh?” She didn’t have to look to hear the amusement in the man’s voice.

“It’s actually pretty good.” She admitted, still slumped half-off the couch. “I just have mt midterm on Friday and I really need someone who can test me on this stuff.”

“I’m sure you’ve got a handle on it. You were always a smart kid.”

May did smile at that. It was easier to accept being called a child from someone who actually knew her as a child. Granted, she and Buck weren’t overly close, but he was always nice to her, and Bobby seemed fond of him.

“I’ve studied this stuff over and over but I just don’t feel ready” she admitted to the ceiling. Maybe Buck should clean those rafters (he was certainly tall enough). Better yet, maybe she could do it. “I either need a distraction or another month of review.”

Maybe if she hid out at the station, she could lie to her professor and say she had a medical emergency. Or maybe, she could convince him to let her take her exam tomorrow and put her out of her misery. She hated the waiting game. The more she reviewed the material, the less secure she felt in her knowledge. It just needed to be over and done with so she could start stressing about the next thing. Her English essay was due next week. It could use a third rewrite.

“I don’t know about the review.” Visions of Buck peering over top of her, pulled May out of her spiral. “But if you’re in need of a distraction, I could use a co-babysitter tonight. I’m watching Christopher while Eddie’s out on a date and I’m sure he’d love to hang out with you.”

An evening spent with her stepdad’s friend, and her stepdad’s other friend’s son was not exactly what she had in mind for a Monday night, but it was better than nothing. Besides, she liked Christopher well enough; he was a cute kid with a sensible head on his shoulders. And Buck was nice – if a little bit accident-prone for the amount of times she’d visited him in the hospital – plus it was an excuse to get out of her routine for a few hours. Maybe she could come early and ask Eddie some questions (an army medic had to have some thoughts on ethics in medicine, right?).

“Sure,” she smiled up at him. “why not?”

Which was how May found herself squished between a surprisingly calm 10-year-old, and an overly-energetic 29-year-old, splitting the difference as she scrolled through their Netflix Kids’ queue.

Christopher had insisted that they didn’t need to use the kid’s channel as he was absolutely old enough to handle all the scary movies. She remembered Harry, not too long ago, with the same attitude (along with the same nightmare he’d had for weeks about a clown in a sewer). While Buck didn’t have the same experience, he was with her decision to stick to the lighter stuff for tonight. Perhaps he was being overly cautious as he always was with the boy.

Everyone in their circle knew about how Buck had saved Christopher during the tsunami and how close the three of them had become afterwards. It was no wonder he wanted to do everything in his power to protect him – even from the CGI monsters.

As they continued to scroll, she paused on their ‘Continue Watching’ bar, to see if there was anything they wanted pick up. She wasn’t about to watch whatever they chose for their post-dinner treat; she had her textbook and laptop in her bag all charged up.

Just as she was about to continue the search for the perfect movie, her eye caught one of the titles with a half-full red bar and shot a confused glance to Buck. The man kept his eyes purposefully trained on the screen, eyes darting to hers once, as a sign that he knew what she was looking at. Still, he showed no sign of explaining himself so she moved on. For now.

They ended up settling on one of the dinosaur documentary movies, but May kept her promise to herself and reviewed through the entire 90-minute event. It was easy enough to tune out, the graphics were fine, the story was predictable, but at least the boys on either side seemed to be enjoying themselves. Every once in a while, Buck would elbow her to pull her attention back to the screen but it never held her interest for more than a few minutes. Then Christopher would do the same, asking her questions or feeding her facts about the various dinosaurs. That did help for a little while, but even that kid’s endless enthusiasm couldn’t keep back the voice in her head that told her she should be studying.

As far distractions went, this night seemed to be a bust.

When she heard the water run in the bathroom, signally the beginning of Christopher’s bedtime routine, May found herself reaching for the remote once again; if only to keep her hands occupied while she waited to say goodbye to Buck. The least she could do was thank him for his attempt to distract her – even if it had failed.

That was when she found the ‘Continue Watching’ bar once again, and her curiosity got the better of her.

“What’s True and the Rainbow Kingdom?” she asked once her companion had returned. “’Cause it doesn’t seem like something Christopher would be into.”

Buck huffed as he flopped on the couch next to her. “Okay,” he began his confession by raising his hands in surrender. “I watched an episode to see if it was something that’d be appropriate for Nia, but I kind of started watching it on my own.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really” he matched her mocking tone. “Not all the time. But I’ll admit, when I’m having a bad day, it’s nice to turn my brain off with some mindless fun.”

She wasn’t laughing at him – maybe she was, but she wouldn’t tell him that – it was that the image of this grown man, sitting at home, watching what was clearly a Sophia the First carbon copy (if the design was to be believed), was very amusing to her.

“Wow, I see how it is.” Buck lightly pushed May as she shuffled over to create more space. “I try and help and instead you mock me. Very nice.”

Even as a joke, she saw his point and the laughter turned into a smile, which morphed into an eyeroll.

“You’ve got to admit, this doesn’t exactly fit your image.”

“I have no image” he protested. “I’m allowed to like whatever I like.”

“So, you wouldn’t mind if I text my mom that” she had barely begun picking up her phone from the coffee table, when he reached the device first.

“Don’t you dare.” More laughter did make her heart feel a little lighter.

He only handed her phone back once she’d half-heartedly agreed not to text her mom this fresh blackmail material. “I bet you’d like it. It’s about a girl and a cat, and she gets these wishes from a tree, and she uses them to help others.”

“The cat gets wishes?”

“Just” Buck rolled his eyes, grabbing the remote from the cushion between them. “we’re going to watch it right now.”

Without waiting for her response, Buck tapped the first episode and shushed her failed attempt to protest.

The first scene introduced a reasonably catchy theme song with bright colours, along with the main character True and her talking black cat named Bartleby. There was something about a party and a bitchy princess and a weird walking pill they called…something Banjo? Admittedly, when the cat said something sarcastic towards the girls, she cracked a smile, but her mind was still reviewing the differences between Potter’s and Callahan’s philosophies.

The next time she tuned back into the episode, they were sitting on mushroom stools under a tree, attempting to solve a problem as a group. When they took a deep breath, May found herself exhaling with them, and her forehead ached from holding tension for so long. Admittedly, it felt nice to relax her shoulders.

Okay, so this was clearly a kids’ show and nothing else. Mining wishes from a tree and using a book to decipher what all the wishes could do, as though they were Pokémon characters.  It was ridiculous, why was she still watching this? She needed to get home to study.  

“Sure, they get to use the ‘wishopedia’ but my professor won’t let me use Wikipedia as a starting source?” she grumbled under her breath.

“What was that?” She startled when Buck smirked at her.

May tucked back into the arm of the couch with a half-hearted glare. “Nothing.”

She really should be reviewing. The more time she wasted outside of the classroom, the worse her chances of success. She shouldn’t be wasting her time watching this kids’ monstrosity. This really was a stupid show. Why would True forgive Grizelda after she was such a bitch to Bingo-Bango? She was always so positive and patient. And she only used her special powers to help people. That was pretty nice.

That theme song was pretty catchy.

Before she knew it, she was four episodes in, watching two mushroom people win a motor race after everyone got detoured by falling crystals and Grizelda being a bitch (again).

“She should just toss the Cu-Bigly over the cliff and then throw Grizelda.” At Buck’s look of amused indignation, she shrugged. “What? She deserves it for sabotaging the race. It’s not like she’d die from that height.”

A quick glance at her phone told her it was after ten and she had a class in the morning. What astonished her most, was that she hadn’t thought about her course work in an hour. For the first time since starting university, she’d let herself escape her thoughts just for a little while; and honestly, she felt lighter for it.

Still unbelievably guilty for not spending every waking moment of her life preparing for her next test or assignment – but just a little bit lighter.

“Hey, Buck?” She turned to the man barely hiding the fact that he’d begun to doze off. May smirked when he awoke with a snort. “Thanks for your help, I really needed this.”

For a moment, she saw the ‘puppy dog’ that her mom liked to call him: the puffed chest and kind smile and excited eyes. She saw what won over her, somewhat cynical, mother; it made her smile brighter.

“Glad I could help.”

Buck was scrolling mindlessly through his phone two weeks later, when it buzzed with a new text notification, and his mood instantly improved.

87%

Also I may have finished the first season of TatRK

I totally ship True and Zee

Do you want me to wait for you to catch up?

“Hey, May passed her Bioethics Mid-Term” he announced to his friends sitting in the loft; the rest, he would keep as his own reward for a job well done.

Bobby looked up from his usual place in the kitchen, buttering a pan for some dish most of them wouldn’t get to eat. “Since when did May start telling you about her exam results?”

There was no honest answer that wouldn’t make him feel embarrassed, but Buck blushed regardless. “I, uh, helped her study.”

Eddie slapped his shoulder jovially as he passed on his way to grab a bottle of water. “Is there something you want to tell us? You have a secret Bioethics degree?”

Buck brushed him off with a smile. “No, but you do what you can to help out family, right?”

His eyes met with his Captain’s and there was a fondness he only saw with May and Harry. Something he hadn’t seen for himself in a long while.

“Yeah, kid, you do.”

#cj writes things #911 fox #911 fic #evan buckley #may grant #true and the rainbow kingdom #fire fam #friendship #cirrius-akyio

[wrestlingisfake]

Bound for Glory preview

Eric Young vs. Rich Swann - Young is defending the Impact Wrestling world championship.  This is only Swann’s second match since suffering a legit knee injury in January.  He returned to the ring for  a five-way title match at Slammiversary on July 18, where he eliminated Young.  Eric “reinjured” Swann’s leg to cost him that match; when Swann was forced to “retire” on August 4, Young assaulted him again.  Since then Young has gone on to win the world title, while Swann has been doing a whole “come out of retirement for revenge” storyline.

It’s funny to think about how these guys are headlining this show, considering that most fans would probably remember them best for being lost in the shuffle at WWE.  But this is Impact’s level, and it has been for years.  Just because these guys would be working a dark match on Smackdown doesn’t mean they can’t have a compelling main event here in a much smaller pond.

The basic “Rocky movie” approach to booking this feud would be to have Swann overcome adversity to conquer his most dangerous rival and finally win the big one.  But Impact has a long history of trying to outthink that logic, and I have a long memory of them swerving away from big coronation moments.  It was only a few months ago, in fact, that they were building up Ace Austin for an inevitable run on top, and then they just...didn’t do that.  So Swann might win, or they might tell a story that he has a lot of ring rust to shake off before he beat Young.  Nevertheless, my gut still says Swann wins the title here.

Alex Shelley & Chris Sabin vs. Doc Gallows & Karl Anderson vs. Ethan Page & Josh Alexander vs. Ace Austin & Madman Fulton - This is a four-way match for the Impact tag team title, currently held by the Motor City Machine Guns (Shelly and Sabin).  Per standard four-way rules, the only way to win is by pinfall or submission, and the first man to score a fall on any opponent wins the match and the title for his team.

The North (Page and Alexander) held the title for just over a full year as various other teams broke up or drifted away from Impact, so they got to be able to say they cleaned out the division.  Then Sabin and Shelley came in as the wily veterans to get a big push (which is sort of ironic when you consider their history with this company).  Austin and Fulton came together earlier this year as a “rising top heel and his enforcer” act, but they ended up as a tag team when they began feuding with the Good Brothers (Gallows and Anderson).  All along, there’s been a sense that the Machine Guns are just keeping the titles warm until they put over the Good Brothers.

I could see any of these teams getting the title, but it’s pretty clear Gallows and Anderson are top attractions in this company, so one way or another the title picture is going to revolve around them.  One interesting wrinkle is that the Good Brothers plan to work for both Impact and New Japan, and New Japan has a tag team tournament coming up, leading into their biggest show of the year.  If I’m Don Callis, I want to send Gallows and Anderson to Japan for a couple of months to soak up that exposure, and I’d want them do it while wearing Impact title belts.  I’m probably getting ahead of myself with that speculation, but since I’ve got no other clear way to pick a winner, I’ll let that be why I’m going with Doc and Karl.

Deonna Purrazzo vs. Kylie Rae - Purrazzo is defending the Impact women’s title.  Kylie earned this title shot by winning a battle royale on July 18, the same night Purrazzo won the championship.  Since then Kylie has won the Warrior Wrestling women’s title, but that belt isn’t at stake here.

It was just about a year ago that Kylie debuted here, coming off a surprisingly abrupt exit from AEW.  It’s always felt like Impact wanted to do a slow build to her as the face of the women’s division.  And yet, Impact has also given Purrazzo a strong push since her debut in May.  Each of them would be my pick to win against any other woman in the company right now.  But against one another, it’s real tough to choose.  Feels like almost every match on this card is a pick-’em, which is a good thing.

I’m gonna go with Kylie to win just because she makes me happy.

EC3 vs. Moose - Moose has spent most of the year as the self-proclaimed “TNA world champion,” but EC3 stole his belt and I’m not sure what happened to it and I’m not sure either guy still cares about it at this point.  EC3 gained his widest exposure to fans in his NXT/WWE run, but Impact viewers know he really made his name in this promotion, back when it was called TNA.  “EC3” literally stands for “Ethan Carter III,” from when his gimmick was that he was the (kayfabe) nephew of longtime TNA owner Dixie Carter.

The story is that after EC3 was laid off from WWE, he decided he had to exorcise his old failures, which I guess are symbolized by Moose carrying around the belt he once held.  So EC3 started interfering in Moose matches and stalking him and playing cryptic videos for him and other weird stuff.  This has been going on since July but EC3 has yet to wrestle for Impact in all that time.  Aside from a couple of indie shows, and some ROH stuff that hasn’t aired yet, this will be his first match in 2020.

Back in July I assumed that EC3 would sign with Impact.  Then when I heard he was doing stuff with ROH, I figured it was a side project before he fully committed to Impact.  But after three months with no Impact matches, I’m starting to wonder if his Impact deal is a one-and-done.  Actually, the fact I’m wondering that helps the match, since if I was sure he was sticking around, it’d be super obvious that he has to beat Moose.  As it is, I’m still leaning toward EC3 winning, but that little doubt in my head will keep it interesting.

Eddie Edwards vs. Ken Shamrock - I lost the plot on this one, but as I recall Edwards had a vicious feud with Sami Callihan in 2018, and then Shamrock had a vicious feud with Callihan earlier this year, and now Shamrock and Callihan both hate Edwards for some reason.  Incidentally Shamrock is being inducted into Impact’s hall of fame this weekend, so it’s kind of weird that they decided now is the time to turn him heel.

I think the easiest way to sum both of these guys up is that neither of them knows when to quit.  They both look grizzled and stopped-giving-a-fuck, which makes them scary in the way that convicts in movies seem scary.  Now that I think about it, I’m surprised it took so long for this match to happen.

The x-factor here is Callihan, who will undoubtedly be interfering on behalf of Shamrock.  I don’t know who the hell Eddie can get to counteract that; usually when he needs backup it ends up being his wife Alisha, which works better than you might expect but still not all that well.  I guess if Davey Richards was going to return, this would be a cool way to set it up.  But failing that, I don’t think Eddie can win this match.

Rohit Raju vs. Chris Bey vs. TJP vs. Jordynne Grace vs. Trey Miguel vs. Willie Mack - Raju’s “X division” title is on the line.  This is being billed as a “six-way scramble match.”  I tend to think that’s just a cute name for a standard six-way match, where whoever scores the first fall on any opponent wins the match and the title.  Of course, in WWE a “scramble match” was a specific stipulation where whoever scores the last fall in a specified time period is the winner.  But I think if Impact was trying to bring those rules back, they’d have made a bigger deal about it, and I would have heard something about it by now.

The backstory here is that Bey was getting a big push and beat Mack for the title, and Raju started lobbying to be his henchman.  This led to Bey vs. Raju vs. TJP, with the idea that Raju would help Bey against TJP, but Raju went into business for himself and won the title.  So now everybody is gunning for Raju, including Trey for some reason I forget, and I think Grace just got thrown in there to make it more interesting.  Basically, Raju was a prelim guy before any of this happened, and he’d be the underdog against any of these opponents, so you’re supposed to think he’s doomed in a match against all of them.

I’m a tad surprised Grace is involved, because it wasn’t all that long ago that it was Tessa Blanchard as the woman chasing the X title, and then the world title, and that didn’t work out so well.  Then again, Tessa’s gender was hardly the reason that run fell apart, so maybe Impact is determined to do it again until they get it right.  Thing is, if you want to seriously present a woman winning a men’s championship, you want the champion that puts her over to be stronger than Rohit Raju.  So if they’re gonna do it, I’d say they should do it later, with Grace challenging one of the other guys for the title one-on-one.

Anyone could win this match, but it’s a real old trick to have the most hated heel be the biggest underdog, and then he steals a win after his opponents destroy each other.  So I’m going with Rohit to retain.

20-person “Call Your Shot” gauntlet match - This is a timed interval gauntlet match, similar to WWE’s Royal Rumble.  Two participants start the match, and each additional participant enters at regular intervals.  (I don’t think they’ve said how long the intervals are, but I’m guessing 90 seconds or two minutes or something.)  For most of the match, a competitor can only be eliminated by leaving the ring over the top rope and placing both feet on the floor; however, once all but two wrestlers are eliminated, the rules change so they can only lose by pinfall or submission.  The last person left in the match is the winner and earns the right to a title match against the champion of their choice.

So far Impact has confirmed eleven participants, seven men and four women:

Acey Romero, of the XXXL tag team

Alisha Edwards, whose last singles victory in this company was in 2018 against AEW’s Rebel/Reba

Brian Myers, formerly known as Curt Hawkins in WWE

Havok, aka Jessicka Havok in the indies

Heath, formerly Heath Slater in WWE, with the gimmick that he hasn’t yet secured a contract to work for Impact

Hernandez, once a rising star in TNA, now some sleazy guy backstage with a giant wad of cash

Larry D, Romero’s partner in XXXL

Rhino, the former ECW/WWE star who’s been trying to help Heath get signed

Taya Valkyrie, probably best known from AAA and Lucha Underground

Tenille Dashwood, formerly Emma in NXT and WWE

Tommy Dreamer, the ECW legend, who has been feuding with Myers

The order of entry is supposed to be random, but the results of an October 20 match slotted Hernandez as the last entrant and Rhino as the first.  The added stipulation for Rhino and Heath is that their jobs are on the line: If either of them wins, Rhino stays and Heath is signed, but if neither of them win, Rhino is fired and Heath can’t keep coming around asking for work.

It feels like this match has to end with Rhino or Heath winning, to pay off that storyline.  In fact, I could easily see it being a deal where one appears to be eliminated, and hides off-camera until the other is thrown out, and then Josh Matthews can play Michael Cole being all shocked that there’s still hope.  It feels so obvious that I’ve seen speculation that Heath needs to turn on Rhino right after one of them wins, to keep it interesting.  But I think we’re all overlooking the alternative, where they’re both kicked out of the company but nevertheless keep appearing in comedy skits for weeks until they get some other chance to earn contracts.  Personally, I’d just keep it simple and have Heath win leading to Heath and Rhino challenging for the tag title.

Dez & Wentz vs. Cody Deaner & Cousin Jake - This is being advertised for the pre-show.  Dez (Desmond Xavier) and Wentz (Zachary Wentz) are, along with Trey Miguel, the stoner team of the Rascalz.  Cody Deaner has been Impact’s resident redneck good-ol’ boy on and off for years.  Jake is better known on the indie scene as Jake Something, the current Black Label Pro champion.  Between the two teams, I think Impact is more committed to pushing the Rascalz, but this is another one where it could really go either way.  This whole show has been really hard to predict.  Let’s hope it still seems unpredictable after it’s over.

#impact wrestling #bound for glory #eric young #rich swann

[eddie-boii]

Never Let You Go (part 9/14)

Fic info: Both Eddie and Stan live because I do what I want. Multichapter.

Rating: Teen and up (may change). Language.

Pairings: Reddie, Benverly.

Ao3 link: here

Summary: The Losers prepare for a wedding. Here’s some fluff before the wedding happens. In this house, we love and appreciate Audra and Patty.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14

*

Richie awoke to a pillow slapping his head and a pleasant greeting of “Wake up, fuck-face!”

“Good morning to you too, sunshine,” Richie groaned, rolling over in bed and burying his face deeper into his warm pillow so as to ignore the tiny hypochondriac man currently trying to force him out of bed. A brief glance at the window told him it had snowed overnight, and he’d much rather stay in his cosy bed than venture out there.

“Come on, asshole, today’s the big day!” Eddie said, pulling the sheets off of Richie magician-style before immediately releasing a sound not-unlike one of those rubber chicken dogs toys and clapping his hands over his eyes. “Where the fuck are your clothes?!”

“Why the fuck would I wear clothes when I was supposed to be sleeping alone?!” Richie said, finally dragging himself out of bed to slip on a dressing gown and smirking slightly at Eddie’s red face. 

“Are you decent yet?”

“Morally?” said Richie. “Hard to say.”

“Do you have clothes on, dipshit?”

Richie rolled his eyes. “Yes, Eduardo, you can look again without gagging.”

“Why would I gag?” said Eddie, finally lowering his hands, and Richie swallowed the urge to make a blowjob joke.

“So what brings you here this morning, my dear spaghetti?”

Eddie scowled at the nickname. “Maybe because this is my fucking assigned room, jerk-off.” When Richie raised an eyebrow at him, he rolled his eyes. “Bev kicked me out and your presence is requested to help the bride prepare for her special day,” he explained, fluttering his fingers about sarcastically as though disgusted by the romantic notion of it all.

“Well why didn’t you just say, spaghetti-bear?” said Richie. “You mind giving me some privacy while I shower and get dressed first? Unless you wanna get all steamy with me?” he added with a wink, grinning when Eddie’s face flushed red once more even while he wore that adorable scowl.

“Whatever, asshole, I’m going to help Ben get ready.” He retrieved one of his many suitcases - the one containing his suit - and made his exit, leaving Richie to get ready for the day.

Nobody could say Richie didn’t make an effort to look nice; he’d had a haircut a few days ago, and now he actually shaved and put on deodorant after his shower before putting on his fanciest outfit: jeans and a tuxedo t-shirt.

“Don’t all fawn over me at once, ladies,” he declared as he flung open the door to Bev’s room to find Stan, Patty and Audra all fussing over Beverly’s hair and makeup.

“Nope,” said Stan, taking one look at him. “You are not wearing that, no fucking way.”

“Bev said I could wear whatever I wanted!” Richie protested as Beverly tried valiantly to hide her grimace.

Stan gave him a deadpan look. He walked over to a suitcase and pulled a suit bag from it, shoving into Richie’s arms. “Go change.”

“Why do you have this?” said Richie, frowning down at the bag. It was black and opaque so he couldn’t see what the garment it held looked like.

“Because I knew you’d try to pull some shit,” said Stanley. “Go. Change.”

“No offence, Staniel,” said Richie, eying Stan’s bird-patterned tie, “but I don’t trust your fashion taste.”

“I picked it especially for you,” said Stan, and shook his head when Richie looked even more apprehensive. “You’ll like it, trust me.”

Richie wasn’t convinced but went into the en suite to change anyway. As soon as he unzipped the bag, he grinned. He’d never doubt Stan again.

“Now you’ll really have to try not to fawn over me, ladies!” said Richie, grinning widely as he stepped back out of the bathroom all decked out in a suit, except this one wasn’t boring and black like all the ones he had to wear to red carpet events that he hated so much; this one was colourful and patterned with bright flowers all over, not unlike his favourite Hawaiian shirts. The shirt underneath was black, but Richie didn’t care as it made sure the whole look wasn’t too over-the-top. He looked pretty hot if he did say so himself. “You really outdid yourself, Stan-the-man!” he said, pulling Stan into a tight hug.

“You’re welcome, Trashmouth,” Stan laughed. “Patty helped me pick it out,” he added, and Richie gave Patty a big hug too, momentarily distracting her from doing up Bev’s hair.

“You actually look really handsome,” said Bev, looking him up and down.

“You sound surprised,” said Richie, feigning offence.

“More handsome than usual,” Bev rectified. “That nightmare outfit actually suits you.”

“It does scream Richie, doesn’t it?” said Stan.

“Alright, I think we’re done here, hon,” said Audra as she made a final sweep of blusher across Bev’s cheekbone. “You want any makeup doing, Richie?”

Richie blinked at her, momentarily caught off guard. He joked about that sort of thing a lot - a way to detract attention from the fact that he really was a huge ‘fairy’ like his school bullies always said - but Audra seemed completely serious. Richie hadn’t really considered actually indulging in feminine things now that he was out and proud without making it a joke.

“Uh,” he said, “what kind of makeup?”

Audra tapped her chin thoughtfully. “I reckon you’d look really hot with some eyeliner and painted nails.”

“Careful you don’t make Eddie have a fit,” Stan murmured, and Bev snorted as Richie shot them both a glare.

Audra didn’t seem to hear as she was too busy retrieving a bag containing about a hundred little bottles of nail varnish. “Wanna pick a colour?” she said, passing Richie the bag.

Richie perched on the edge of the bed and shuffled through all the bottles, marvelling at just how many colours there were. He contemplated picking a pink that matched some of the flowers on his suit, but decided to play it safe and pulled out a plain black instead.

Audra took the bottle off him and sat beside him on the bed, pulling his hand into her lap. She filed down the jagged edges first - courtesy of a nail-biting habit Richie had never managed to get rid of despite his mother’s wishes - then opened the bottle carefully. Richie stayed perfectly still, watching the little brush sweep over his nails one by one.

“Wow, you actually got Richie to shut up and stay still,” said Stan. “We should’ve made you an honorary Loser sooner.”

Richie flipped him off with his free hand but was careful not to move the one Audra was working on.

“It’s part of my charm,” Audra said simply, not looking up from what she was doing.

“All done, Bev!” said Patty from across the room, and Richie looked up to see the finished result of Bev’s makeover. 

Her makeup was done to perfection thanks to Audra and her movie-star expertise; her eyeshadow blended expertly across her lids and the colour bringing out the green in her eyes, her eyeliner perfectly neat and even on each side, her cheekbones highlighted expertly and her lips painted a pretty pink. And her hair was flawless, pulled back in a loose bun bordered by a braid that had been woven around little silver flowers, wavy strands of amber locks falling free to frame her face.

“You look gorgeous, Bev,” said Richie.

“Thanks, sweetie,” said Bev, smiling at her reflection in the mirror. “And thank you, girls, you did amazing.”

“You’re welcome, honey,” said Patty, smiling softly. “You make such a beautiful bride.”

“Yeah, I’m only, like, ninety per cent jealous right now,” said Audra and Bev laughed. “Alright, handsome, don’t touch anything while that dries,” she said to Richie as she finished painting the last nail. “Now, let me see what I can do about eyeliner.”

“Ooh, I think your hair might be long enough to braid,” said Patty, coming over. “Can I?”

“Suddenly I’m eight again and acting like a doll for my sister and her stupid friends,” said Richie, but he didn’t protest as Patty grabbed a brush and some hair ties.

“You love it,” said Bev and Richie just stuck his tongue out at her.

Stan had to run off to take a phone call before Richie’s makeover was complete. He stood in front of the mirror admiring Patty and Audra’s handy work. Thankfully, Patty hadn’t gone too overboard with the braiding, and Richie didn’t match a certain photo his mom had on her fridge depicting him with about twenty bunches and bows in his hair and glittery eyeshadow all over his face. This look was far more subtle.

“You look like a Viking-emo-hippy,” said Bev. “It shouldn’t work but it does.”

“I look hot as fuck,” said Richie humbly.

“Twenty-bucks says Eddie pops a boner,” Bev whispered not-so-subtly to Audra.

“You’re on.”

“Will you please stop with the fucking bets,” said Richie. “Or at least let me in on them, I bet I could make big money.”

“You wish, sunshine,” said Bev.

Stan reentered the room a moment later, a frown creasing his face. It must have been serious because he didn’t even look twice at Richie’s makeover.

“Uh, Beverly, don’t freak out, but we have a problem.”

“Oh no,” said Bev, paling instantly. “What is it?”

“There’s been a lot of snow overnight and the minister can’t make it,” said Stan.

Beverly stared at him. “What?” she cried, her voice cracking with panic as she grasped Richie’s arm for support and Patty rubbed her back comfortingly. “We can’t have a wedding without a minister!”

“Bev, it’s going to be fine,” said Stan, holding out his hands giving her a calming look. “I can perform the wedding, my father made sure I was ordained.”

“But we’re not Jewish,” said Bev, still far from calm. “Can you still do it? Is that going to be a problem?”

“I’m not a Rabbi, it’ll be fine,” said Stan and Beverly gave a great sigh of relief before rushing into his arms and giving him a tight hug.

“Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you,” she said emphatically before pulling away so as not to smudge her makeup. “Oh no, but who will walk down the aisle with Mike?”

“Don’t worry, babe,” said Richie. “Your man has two hands.”

“God, this wedding is just getting further and further away from traditional,” sighed Bev.

“Did you expect anything less?” said Stan.

“Good point.”

“You better get going, babe,” said Audra after checking her watch. “You don’t wanna be late.”

“We’ll see you at the second ceremony,” said Patty. She hugged Bev then gave Stan a quick peck on the lips. “Good luck.”

“You’ll be fine,” said Audra, giving Bev’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “That is one good-looking hunk you’ve snagged yourself.”

“And so respectful,” sighed Patty dreamily.

“I’m standing right here,” said Stan.

Patty soft smile turned into a grin, her eyes glinting mischievously. “No one can beat my man’s sweet little behind,” she replied, reaching her arms around her husband. He yelped suddenly, his face turning red, and Richie realised she’d pinched his ass. He couldn’t blame her.

He gasped dramatically. “You married a girl with a wild side, Stanley!”

Stan shot him a glare but Patty winked at him.

“Oh, he’s got wild side too.”

“Patty!” Stan squawked, and Patty giggled, reaching up to kiss his nose.

”See you later,” she said, then she linked her arm with Audra’s and the two made their way out of the room.

Stanley was still blushing and Richie nudged him playfully. “Man, I really wish I’d been at your wedding.”

Stan rolled his eyes at him but then looked at the ground, his smile falling slightly. “Me too,” he said softly.

Beverly moved forward and took his hand, squeezing it gently. “We’re all together for this wedding at least.”

“Yeah,” said Stan, looking up at her and smiling. “You ready?”

Bev returned his smile a little shakily, wringing her hands together. “As I’ll ever be,” she replied.

They all bundled into thick winter coats, obscuring most of their outfits for the time being.

“We’re really doing this outside?” said Richie, eying the garden through the frost-flecked window which had become a winter wonderland overnight.

“For the aesthetic,” said Bev, giving him puppy-dog eyes. “And for me.”

“Ugh, fine,” said Richie.

“Shouldn’t take long,” said Stan. “Then we’ve got the second ceremony inside where its warm.

“Can’t wait,” said Richie. “This better be fucking spectacular in the meantime.”

“I hope so,” said Bev. She stepped between them and took their hands. Richie squeezed her hand and she squeezed back, smiling up at him, nervous but… Excited. Really excited.

“You’re about to marry Ben,” Richie whispered, and Beverly nodded, unable to speak, but her eyes were bright and glistening.

The words still didn’t feel quite real. Everything that had happened, everything they’d been through, and here they were. Alive. Two of his best friends in the world getting married. Only a year ago, weddings to him were just boring events he attended for the benefit of the press. Just turn up, smile, eat the free cake and leave. But he hadn’t had real friends back then, or at least, he hadn’t remembered them. He’d spent twenty-seven years with a pit in his chest he couldn’t seem to fill and no idea how it had gotten there. But now, standing here holding Beverly’s hand with Stan, preparing to go meet the others, he felt whole again. Finally. He may not have remembered the Losers for those twenty-seven years, but he’d missed them so much more than they could ever know. They were more than just friends to him; they were soulmates, all of them. Their absence had left a huge gap in his life, but now they were back, and he was never letting them go.

Beverly sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly. She squeezed the hands of both the men either side of her tightly, drew her shoulder’s back, and they all turned as one to face the door. 

“Ok,” she said. “I’m ready.” 

Richie smiled down at her. “Alright,” he said. “Let’s go get you married.”

*

Previous Next

#it chapter 2 #it chapter two #reddie #benverly #it 2017 #stephen king #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #stanley uris #beverly marsh #fic #writing #fluff #fanfic #fix it #EB writes

[timeisacephalopod]

Belated

I thought hmm, lets write a little Tony/Eddie/Venom thing for Reasons. And yeah I know Tony’s bday was two days ago but still. I’ve decided that this is a thing I have written for a fictional character’s belated birthday!

*

Tony’s half buried in paper work ready to throw all caution to the wind and throw himself out a window when Eddie walks in looking pleased with himself. Probably means he sniffed out a good story and he’s found something compelling but he doesn’t look like an absolute human disaster so he’s not too deep into it yet. Once he is he kind of looks like he’s homeless and Rhodey doesn’t really get the charm but Tony once watched Eddie overheat to the point of just fucking losing it and sitting in a lobster tank at one of the fanciest restaurants in Manhattan so he thinks Eddie is the best. Venom being around doesn’t seem to help that except now maybe he’ll eat the lobsters instead of just bothering the hell out of them.

“Happy birthday,” he says, walking over to him and behind his desk, greeting him with a kiss.

Except Tony’s kind of confused. “Wasn’t my birthday last week?” he asks and Eddie frowns.

“No, honey its today. I... who forgets their birthday? And why would you assume everyone in your life also forgot your birthday?” he asks. He looks extra confused but that’s probably just the way Eddie’s expressions work. Rhodey finds his over expressing annoying but Tony thinks it's endearing.

“You all have lives, its fine,” Tony says. Pepper’s always busy running around doing things for him, Eddie seems to have found himself some new thing to rip apart for the next couple months, and Rhodey regularly gets shot at so he figures they all have more pressing concerns. 

Eddie sighs. “Sometimes I think you’re a prick and then you do something sad like make excuses for why everyone in your life would forget you were born. We didn’t forget, Tony, you got the date wrong. How did you forget when you were born?”

He shrugs, “I don’t memorize useless details. And in your defense I am a prick,” he says. They both know it, though Eddie is obviously a lot less hostile then when they met. He seems to have fallen for Tony’s charms, which he’s been reliably informed are pretty disarming.

Eddie leans in and gives him another kiss, “no you’re not, but you play one well,” pulling away and dropping his bag on Tony’s desk. Its disrupted his thread bare attempt at organizing his own life- not exactly his strong suit admittedly not that he’d tell Eddie he's managed to mess up what little organization he had. He pulls a stack of files out of his bag and drops them on top of Tony’s already too large pile of paper work. “Happy birthday, an organized list of all the moral and ethical problems I have with your company,” he says, grinning like its the best gift ever.

Tony snorts and starts laughing, shuffling closer to Eddie. He lays one hand on Eddie’s hip and pokes at the pile of folders with the other. “Well this is... intimidating.”

“Yeah, but you’ll look through it all because you do genuinely want to be a good person. You should be glad I didn’t go with V’s gift,” he says, wincing.

Fuck, Tony can only imagine when one of the first five things he did in Eddie’s body was eat several people’s heads. Sure, V turned out to be an overly sappy romantic ass goo alien but that’s a pretty rough start to things and now Eddie has to live with kind of eating people that one time several times. “Was it flowers?” he asks.

Eddie laughs, “that was suggestion like... fifty two. After I banned violence, drugs, sex- don’t give me that look it was a soft ban because that’s not a present, terrorist activities, harassing children, petty crimes of all varieties, eating heads, murder, grand theft auto, breaking and entering, space, possession, and about a half a dozen other things. He’s not too good with presents.”

“Well, he did alright with the cat,” Tony points out. V doesn’t really get Christmas, turns out his species wasn’t too cuddly and had no holidays, but he does have all Eddie’s memories of it. Conveniently, he tends to lean more towards Eddie’s view of Christmas as mostly a capitalist holiday that’s far more about big businesses making money, overworking retail employees, and present buying pressure that leads to suicide than the happy stuff. And that doesn’t even touch on Eddie’s view of religion. Though to be fair V probably gathered a lot more religious vitriol from Tony than Eddie.

“He’s threatened to eat that cat at least once a day since he decided to pick it out. Claims he’s a dog person,” Eddie says.

“Dogs are bigger, usually, so I’m not really surprised. More meat.” Given the look on Eddie’s face Tony’s going to assume V has agreed with that statement.

“We are not eating dogs,” Eddie hisses. Mostly he only does that around Tony, but its hilarious when he does it in public because most people don’t really recognize him anymore so he looks like a homeless loon being led around by a celebrity. Or at least he did before he became recognizable again through Tony’s fame and yeah, Tony knows all Eddie’s opinions on celebrity culture. None of them are positive and yeah, Tony can see why that is.

“Tell V to go hunt New York rats at night. He might have fun with that,” Tony says. “Wait, does Venom have a birthday? That a thing his species does?”

Eddie shakes his head. “Says he doesn’t have a proper earth date translation for his hatching day and I know he didn’t come from an egg so that’s a horrifying term to use. Do not enlighten me, V. I’m happy to stay in the dark.” He makes another face and Tony assumes V has let out some detail Eddie didn’t want to hear.

“That ever get annoying, the voice in your head?” he asks. Feels like it’d be exhausting. Tony doesn’t even like his own voice in his head let alone some random alien who decided pretty much on a whim to save the world strictly because he likes Eddie. Though to be fair Riot was an asshole and Tony was sick of being compared to Carlton Drake anyway. Guy was like cartoonishly evil. Though Tony will admit that he was good looking and damn smart, even if that didn’t really turn out to be a good thing later.

“Sometimes,” Eddie says, “but mostly  V offers some good entertainment on human customs. Turns out his species tended to eat each other to solve problems. He thinks our petty politics is fun to watch.”

Yeah, an alien would find that funny. Or everyone outside of America at least until America decides to invade for oil or some other resource. “So who did he want to possess?” Tony asks, grinning.

“No!” Eddie says, presumably to him and Venom.

*

Tony’s laying in bed pretending to have died when Eddie walks over and crawls over him, laying his entire weight on Tony’s back. He sighs because of course Eddie would find the most inconvenient way to get him to stop taking up the entire bed. “This is a king and you’re like three feet tall. How is it that you take up so much space?” Eddie asks as Tony starts wiggling around.

“Ask the cat, she’s a hell of a lot smaller than me and she always manages to take up at least half the bed.” Eddie rolls off and Tony props himself up. “Thanks for the present by the way, half the stuff you pointed out happens to be things I was already looking to fix.” But Eddie is a fuck of a lot picker than him and its nice to have someone trying to hold him to account. And Eddie has no problem doing so, he gives Tony his opinion on a lot of things all the time whether or not he wants to hear them.

“Yeah, I got you something else too but its taking eighty years in the mail so I had to improvise,” Eddie says.

“Let me guess, you refuse to use Amazon,” Tony says.

“Look, that fuckstick can’t even pay his workers and he’s the richest guy in the world, and what’s all that crazy shit about pissing in-” Eddie starts but Tony cuts him off before he really gets going.

“Jeff Bezos is a prick, I get it. Actually, might get stuck at the same charity event with him next week so I can bring you along if you want to punch him,” Tony says.

The bright look of unbridled glee in Eddie’s eyes makes him smile. Yeah, he’s maybe argued a lot about Tony’s wealth, but he at least appreciates that Tony does his best to spread it around a little. Its just that he has trust issues and he knows how corporate charity works- its all tax write offs and siphoning money out of most of the ‘donations.’ So he does his best to do his research and lucky him Eddie is probably a little too good at it so he’s got some more reputable charities to share with. And he thinks its fun to pay off random people’s debt. If he’s having a bad day he’ll pick a person and bam, debt free. He likes making people happy so Eddie only kind of side eyes his money.

Generally that means he only brings it up like twice a day instead of non-stop and if nothing else Tony can appreciate that he’s passionate about his views. Rhodey thinks he’s annoying but Rhodey isn’t dating him so he can deal with it.

“Yeah, alright,” Eddie says but the way he says it tells Tony that he’s not talking to him.

“Do not eat his head, V!” Tony says, panicked. “I do not want to deal with the fallout of that. Just ruin his life like a normal person. Get JARVIS to help, he’s been helpful in my long standing efforts to ruin Hammer.”

“Yeah, pretty sure all you two have managed to do is turn Hammer into the knockoff version of you, but he uh... seems to like that so I don’t know.”

Tony damn well knows he looks offended because that’s the fucking rudest shit he’s ever heard. “What did you just call Hammer?” he asks.

Eddie realizes his mistake right away and Tony fucking resents that he looks a little dead behind the eyes because he was the one who damn well decided Hammer was good enough to be the anything version of him. “I would sooner take Carlton Drake as the cheap version of me than Hammer,” Tony hisses. “At least Drake was actually smart and hot! What’s Hammer? He looks like he came out of the womb dressed as the class clown who decided to be an accountant!”

Honestly Tony resents that Eddie sighs at that. “No V, you can’t eat Hammer’s head,” Eddie mumbles.

“Yes you can,” Tony tells him.

*

Tony’s attempting to make coffee while also ignoring Eddie due to his previous transgressions. Compare him to Hammer on his birthday. The disrespect. Eddie walks out of their bedroom and Tony resolutely ignores him as he starts looking around the pent house for some reason. Tony side eyes him as he moves a bunch of papers around- Eddie’s, not his, knocks the pillows off the couch, and picks up the cat. He looks at Cotton for a moment, frowning before he shakes her a little. She meows in an annoyed, disgruntled way and Eddie sighs, releasing the cat.

“Uh, the fuck are you doing?” Tony asks eventually.

Looking for me says a voice in his head and Tony throws his coffee cup, startling so badly his entire body jerks and he slips, falling on his ass.

“Oh thank god I thought he went and possessed some random secretary so he could go eat heads!” Eddie says, rushing over to him.

“Oh no, you stay back there you don’t get to come near me or V after comparing Hammer to me!” he says, pointing an accusatory finger at him.

Eddie sighs. “Tony-” he starts but Tony has already picked himself up and turned around with his arms crossed, ignoring him.

So rude. Venom agrees. We should eat Hammer V says, perhaps a little too enthusiastically.

Tony sighs and it pains him to do this, truly. “V, we can’t actually eat Hammer,” he says in perhaps the most dejected, upset tone he’s ever produced.

Eddie gives him, Venom technically, an offended look. “You decided to crawl into him in the middle of the night and risk killing him so you could eat someone?” he asks, hand pressed to his heart quite like an offended PTA mom. “V, you better get your ass back in here!” Eddie tells him, pointing at himself.

He compared you to Hammer. We should leave him, go sight seeing V says.

Tony rolls his eyes. “V you aren’t going to manipulate me into carrying your ass out of here because Eddie put you in the dog house.”

“Venom!” Eddie says, voice rising.

Tony swears to god he feels Venom extend from his body and that is some worrying fucking shit how’s Eddie put up with that? “Tony thinks you sound like an offended PTA mom,” Venom tells Eddie and Tony squints.

“Since when the hell are you a rat?” he asks.

Venom turns to face him, “you take that back! I am not vermin!”

“No, technically you’re a parasite now get back here,” Eddie tells him.

“Maybe I will find a new home with hosts who appreciate me,” Venom says, sinking back into Tony and he does not like that.

“How do you get these things out?” he asks.

Eddie walks over and leans in, squinting at Tony shrewdly except he’s actually looking at Venom and Tony’s not sure how he knows that. “If you don’t get back in me I will play Bohemian Rhapsody at top volumes with Tony pressed against the speaker!” he hisses.

“That kind of sounds like fun minus the speaker thing,” Tony says.

“They don’t do so well with loud noises and vibrations,” Eddie explains and oh, that makes sense. Tony watches as black goo extends from his hand to Eddie’s and it almost looks resentful for it. Or maybe Tony’s imagining that.

Tony gives Venom a sad look as the last of him disappears back into Eddie. “I’m so sad he won’t ever experience Freddy Mercury like the rest of us,” he says, hand pressed to his heart.

Eddie sighs. “V says your music taste is heinous and he would rather listen to my music.”

He listens to exclusively shitty electronica music. “I’m leaving you both,” Tony tells him, turning and walking away.

#tony x eddie brock #tony x eddie brock x venom #fanfiction #alternate universe

[clean-bands-dirty-stories]

Wait... WHAT? (Richie)(part 2)

A/n: Here's some x Richie lmao sorry

Warnings: Same pairings, but things are shifting in this story. Cursing, homelessness, It, angst, the usual

Writer: Pidge

Bev had begun to drag me everywhere with the Losers. I guess we were Losers now too. I always felt separate from them, even though Bev's constant pushing me and Stan together worked only to create some sort of acquaintanceship between us.

"How long are you going to drag this out?" Stan asked me as we walked, drifting behind the others.

I sighed. He asked this often, but as time passed, I could see definite chemistry between Bev and Bill and I just felt that I couldn't butt my head in. "You know why I'm not saying anything, Stan."

Our usual duo was interrupted by Richie sidling up next to me. "What's up, Hot stuff?"

I snorted. "Nothing that involves you, Trashmouth."

Richie wiggled his eyebrows. "Does it involve Stan?" He leaned close, draping his arm around my shoulders.

Pulling away, I rolled my eyes. "Not Stan either."

No matter how hard I tried, he kept up conversation without problem as we walked, talking about the Quarry and school and Eddie's mom. I found myself easing around him. His jokes always got me to laugh and his presence was easy to get used to. At some point he put his arm around my shoulders again but I let it stay this time.

This whole time I'd been so focused on losing Bev to the Losers and losing Bill to Bev that I hadn't really reached out to the other Losers. I mean, yeah, Stan and I talked but that's because Bev kept shoving us together. I'd even meant to make friends with Ben and bond over losing Ben and Bev to each other. If just never gotten the courage or the right moment to approach any of the others. Richie had some sort of magic or initiative or mix of both, though, because he found endless openings to suddenly approach me and start talking. He had popped up here and there, joking and talking to whoever would listen- which was usually me. The others seemed to listen to him fairly often but in those moments when he'd exhausted all of them he would come and talk to me.

He was easy to talk to and be around. There was no awkward silence I felt obliged to fill or probing questions I wanted to avoid. There was no hesitation or straint or anxiety. It was just him talking, leaving the spaces for me to respond in such a way that he was basically telling me what to say back to him. No conversation was boring or lulled and even though I relied heavily on him to carry it, he didn't mind. In fact he was quite happy that I just sat and listened to him without losing attention, more easily than either of us thought I would be able to as he talked and bounced around and then ended in the complete opposite direction of where he started going.

Recently he'd started flirting more and it got me to laugh if nothing else. It was only too easy to fall into step with him and tell him everything.

For the first time since we'd begin talking, though, he seemed to sense that my subconscious had something to say because as one second stretch to two and we kept taking or in syncronized steps, I found myself mindlessly beginning, "I just don't be-" My words cut off, eyes widening. Richie was the closest of the Loser to actually being friends with me. Stan and I were acquaintances for sure, but I was thiking he was more intrigued by me than actually wanting to be friends.

Richie tilted his head. "I mean, we’re the group of those that don’t belong." I blushed, feeling exposed and vulnerable without being prepared. "I think that’s the biggest thing we have in common. We don’t belong anywhere else. We make it work somewhere else and friendships form but that’s how it starts." He shrugged, his grin sudden;y coming back. "We all know that I’m a Loser just because no one can deal with my size."

For a second my eyes had searched his face, surprised by the love for his friends and the thoughtfulness he was showing. But the last comment ruined it and I snorted, rolling my eyes. "Yeah Rich I don’t know what else it would be,” I stated sarcastically.

"Guys keep up!" Eddie called. I wa sure if he was irritated or worried. We were in the middle of the woods and Richie and I had fallen really far behind. Either way, I lengthened my steps, catching Richie’s hand to pull him after me when it dropped from my shoulders.

Once we had caught up, I dropped it without much thought. My eyes were caught by Bill, but not for the same reasons as usual. Right now, to my horror, I was watching him sift through the little nook under the Kissing Bridge (distracted by Richie, I hadn’t at all realized where we were in the woods. We’d just planned on meandering around lazily on this Saturday that didn’t hold anything to do that we weren’t bored of doing.).

My heart began racing, seeming to grow in size as it pressed painfully against my ribs, rising into my throat and choking me.

"I wonder who lives here," Beverly mused, Pitt and sadness in her face.

Eddie shuddered. "No one sanitary. Look at how disgusting it is. Do you know how many diseases we could catch just standing here..." he shuddered again and I flinched, feeling shame fill me to he brim, triggering my anxiety.

“They must feel so alone,” Beverly mused quietly as she moved to Bill’s side. Her face drooped, her eyes wide and sad. “Being out here in the cold every night. Alone, in the dark... It doesn’t look very comfortable.”

Sta tilted his head. “It’s weird to think someone lives here. Ferry’s a small town and people come to the bride all the time. Wouldn’t someone have seen or heard someone?”

“Maybe th-they aren’t always- aren’t always here,” Bill offered. “Like in the day- the day time too, you know?”

“Well if they’re busy in the day and gone at night, when they hell do they come back here and sleep?” Mike asked, crossing his arms.

Ben shuffled. “Guys maybe we should leave. They could be back any moment and the sun’s gonna be going down soon. This is where someone lives. It’s like walking into someone’s house and poking around.”

Bev’s gasp caught everyone’s attention. “She’s a girl.” She held up a tattered, faded box held together desperate with duck tape, holding my extra clothes all neatly folded and my cleaning supplies. She then put it down, running a hand through her hair. “Looks to be our age, too.”

“Guys I think Ben’s right,” I rushed, feeling my panic start to overwhelm me as I shoved my hands behind my back to hide their shaking. “These are someone’s things. We shouldn’t be poking around in it.”

The Losers frowned but nodded, Eddie, Ben, and Stan leading the group eagerly as they wanted to get away. Bill and Bev lingered as I met with Richie and Mike, following after the three in front of the group. “Come on, guys, no underwear is worth poking through that long,” Richie drawled, making Bev and Ben both blush and come join the others as Beverly shot her middle finger in Richie’s direction.

It occurred to me then that Richie, despite his reputation, had stayed quiet the whole time. He hadn’t made any jokes or rattled off any insults or innuendos. He’d been completely quiet for the first time since I’d known him, choosing to pull his friends away from the scene instead of investigating it for humor material like he did everything else.

Maybe there was more to Richie Tozier than I gave him credit for...

As Ben had predicted, the sun began to sink dangerously low. We all made our way back to the piles of bikes we’d left at the bridge, which is why we’d headed back in this direction. Our walking adventures were over and everyone was turning in for the night. Goodbyes were exchanged and I drove Beverly home.

Hopping down, she caught my wrist before I could take off. Our eyes met and I recognized the same sadness and concern the young woman had shown while under the bridge, looking at my little makeshift house. “Y/n, I can’t bare thinking about someone living like that. Someone our age. I bet they go to our school, have friends they hang out with just like us.”

Trying to keep myself calm, I sighed. “It’s probably one of the dickwads that push us around. It would explain why they’re either bored or insecure enough to be so mercilessly brutal to other people.” Bev’s face didn’t change so I continued. “Or worse, it’s one of the kids that sit back and watch or bow their heads and pretend nothing is happening. The ones who do nothing and pretend that that’s okay. That doing nothing somehow doesn’t make them just as guilty.”

Bev sighed, the sound even heavier than mine had been. “They’re still a child though. We’re all still just kids. Stupid kids doing stupid things in situations none of us should have to deal with. The kind of trauma someone would endure, living on their own at this age. And why did they leave? We’re they abused? Kicked out?” Her eyes grew watery. “Raped?” I flinched. She’d hit too close to home with both of us.

“You’ve never said it out loud before,” I whispered.

She cleared her throat, never one to show weakness for long if at all. “Help me figure out who it is?” She asked quietly. “So we might be able to at least make another friend? Give them something? Anything?”

I almost told her right then and there. Almost let it all come out and broke down and was vulnerable and open. Almost told her about my parents and fears and the cold and loneliness and how everyone seemed so far away and how sometimes weeks would pass and it would feel like hours, causing weeks and months and years to blend together into one mass of general events with no time line. I almost told her about how much it hurt me to see her with the Losers when I felt no part of them. How much it hurt to see her with Bill when all I’ve ever wanted in this shitty life of mine was to feel his arms around me and his lips on mine. See him draw me. Hear him say my name differently than he said everyone else’s...

Almost.

But I didn’t.

“Yeah sure Bev.”

She smiled. “Thank you, Y/n.”

“No problem. Goodnight.” She returned my words and then turned away, her shoulders sagging and the life draining away from her as usual as she approached her house, the dread taking place over the strength and bravery she had anywhere and everywhere else.

How did she think she could help me? She couldn’t even help herself. It was better that I kept my mouth shut- the Losers had their own problems to worry about without me adding mine to the pile.

I biked back to the Kissing Bridge the exact way I had just come from the get to Bev’s house. I was exhausted and it was completely dark, the cold seeping into my skin and musicle straight into my bones. My back hurt with how tense my body was. I dropped my bike in the same spot I had picked it up from not too much earlier, taking an extra precaution to cover it with branches and leaves and general foliage unlike I had done when I had been with the Losers. And then I moved around to the bottom of the hill, maneuvering between trees and undergrowth to the bottom of the bridge where I settled in my bed without changing my clothes, pulling my blankets around me.

Unfortunately for me, this seemed to be one of the nights that sleep didn;t overtake me. I thought my exhaustion from all the biking and walking would overtake me the second I was laying down but nope. I wasn’t so lucky as to have that pleasure. INstead, I started crying. I started crying and crying until my eyes could only see black and dark blue blobs of the nighttime colored world around me. My soft sobs - I had long since learned how to cry silently but I was slipping on the control factor tonight and the sounds made me feel even worse - exchoed against the underside of the bridge, like lighter in an empty house.

Except I was crying. And all this echoe did was remind me how empty I was inside and how lonely I truly was.

There was a sudden, loud POP that made me jump and stopping my crying instantly. I sat up, raising my arm to wipe my tears so my vision would be cleared and I could see what was going on. When I lowered my arms, though, I screamed and scrambled back. There was, for just a second, a pair of glittering golden eyes inches from my own. When I was far enough back, though, they had turned into Beverly’s green eyes as she stood up straighter.

“Bev?” I whispered, shaking already as I realized that she had seen me here, at night, all alone, sleeping in this dingy little nook.

Her face wasn’t full of pity as it was before though. It was full of anger. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Something was off. She looked like herself, but she stood without any... life. She looked at me with nothing behind her eyes, her body sagging despite her animated facial expression in a way it only did when she was absolutely exhausted. She always stood up as straight as was comfortable, making herself bigger and as strong and intimidating as possible. “What you don’t trust me?” She sneered, sounding more like Greta from school than the bets friend I knew and loved. “You were just going to let me worry and wonder, weren’t you?” She scoffed. “You’re a terrible friend. I’m glad I have the Losers. They’re so much better than you.”

My heart began to ache as I sat there, eyes wide and lips in a soft ‘o’ as I tried to process. “Wh-what?”

“Now you sound like me.” I jumped as Bill walked into view, crossing his arms over his chest and standing beside Beverly. Except this Bill was different too. He stood straight, his eyes the same empty and dead as Bev’s, his face twisted with the same anger as well.

Bev smiled when Bill came up, but it was more creepy than genuine. “Hey Bill,” she mewed in a way that made me shiver in disgust. And then she leaned over and they kissed and my insides twisted.

They only parted when Stan and Richie came from the same direction Bill had. He looked ore disgusted than angry as he called to the two, catching their attention. I looked at the curly haired, tall boy for comfort - which surprised me - but there was none to be found. She scoffed, taking a step away. “It’s time to go,” Stan sneered. “I don’t want to be here anymore. It’s disgusting.” And for a moment, even though he said ‘it’ and not ‘her’, I wondered if he was talking about me and not the location we were at.

My eyes fell to Richie, but the boy was silent. He wouldn’t look at me and a sense of dread sunk into my soul, replacing the cold and heartbreak of Bev’s harsh words and Bill’s rejection and Stan’s insults. There was something about Richie not even giving me recognition or time or attention. Something about his lack of acknowledging my existence with a look, let alone dropping a dirty joke or a snide remark or an innuendo to make me laugh or blush. There wa something about his silence that sit me so hard and deep I started crying again. I sat there, raw and exposed, as the only four people who could hurt me (more than I thought could, it here we are) left me to my own devices.

To my own surprise, I scrambled to my feet. “Richie?” I croaked. He paused, the others already gone somewhere in the woods. He paused, but he didn’t look at me. “Richi?” I whispered. He had to look at me. I just needed him to look at me. “Richie please? Please don’t leave.”

And, before my eyes, Richie turned to me. But I blinked and when his eyes found mine, he wasn’t Richie anymore. He was my father. My throat closed and I froze, eyes wide in horror. “Leave,” he growled. “Leave... and never come back. You ungrateful, stupid little shit.” The exact words he had told me the night I’d run away. Except he wasn’t drunk or swaying. He met me with even eyes. “LEAVE!” I stumbled back, slamming my back into the wall of the bridge. He growled and began to run at me and I screamed, turning my head and pressing as for into the wall as I could, too perizlized by fear to even think about escaping.

Silent stretched. Pain didn’t come. Nothing did. I opened my eyes, looking around, and my eyes landed on a single red balloon. It floated in one place for a few beats and then moved up, crossing towards the bridge and out of sight.

I didn’t move for a long time but once I did, I numbly moved back to my bed and lay down, pulling my covers over my shoulders. My eyes remained wide with panic, my heart never slowing and my body never ceasing its shaking.

At some point I fell into a half sleep daze, my eyes closed and my ody relaxed but my mind still screaming, the image of Bill and Beverly making out and the balloon hovering and my father, come back, running at me at full speed, and their eyes too vivid and horrifying to truly settle.

Their eyes. All of their eyes. Richie. Bill. Beverly. Stan. Even my father. Empty and blank. Lifeless.

#bill denbrough #richie tozier #It #2018 #jaeden lieberher #finn wolfhard #imagine #imagines #x reader #fluff #angst #lots of angst #I usually don’t converse in my tags but guys there is so much angst #at least I think there is #amyway good luck

[notsugarandspice]

SFB

Note: If you get confused about the events of the night before, this is kind of a continuation of a one-shot I did on ao3. 

Warning: VERY GAY AND VERY EXPLICIT + INEXPERIENCED RICHIE (PURE PORN BYE)

Summary: As of last night, they are more than best friends. And Eddie has an idea on how to spend their first morning together -

- sex for breakfast.

Eddie opens his eyes slowly, pleased that the thick curtains are drawn. There is the smallest bit of light peeking through the material, mostly casting shadows around the multiple inanimate objects and the outline of Richie’s body. Richie. The other’s entire back is bare, and the grey cotton sheet is covering his legs and a small swell of the buttocks. He is hugging one of the pillows, his back to Eddie, with one leg bent and slightly hanging off the edge of the bed. The small boy’s entire body is on fire.

His best friend (he’s still my best friend if we’re fucking, right?) is lying right next to him, naked, after the most eventful twenty-four hours in Eddie’s life. Well, maybe he did have his share of fun beforehand, but it’s different when there are feelings involved. It’s the first time in his life that Eddie actually wants to wake up next to someone. But he’s definitely glad that Richie’s hand isn’t draped over his waist - he loves his sheets cold and body temperature next to a dead man when he’s sleeping. He actually never slept naked before, but this makes for a nice change.

Eddie is fighting between going to the kitchen and cooking breakfast, or staying in bed pretending to be asleep until Richie actually wakes up. But knowing that his friend is a rather late sleeper, he decides to get started on the food. First things first, as much as he wants to literally never wear clothes in Richie’s apartment, he feels awkward walking around like that by himself. He walks towards the bathroom and takes the dark blue cotton robe that’s hanging on the back of the door. He quickly peeks into the bathtub cringing at the dried line that the vanilla bath bomb made. Eddie takes the shower head off and sprays it around, rubbing it a bit with his hands. Satisfied with the result, he finally exits the room to make breakfast.

He stops dead in front of the open fridge door, realizing that he has no idea what Richie eats for breakfast anymore. They used to eat ridiculous amounts of waffles and pancakes, covered in bacon and drenched in maple syrup but both wanted to get in shape as soon as they hit their 20s, and now it’s all fucking avocado toasts and boiled eggs. Eddie hates that he let himself become another fitness obsessed millennial. To rectify the situation (and the lost naked breakfasts together), he pulls out the eggs, butter and (unfortunately) almond milk. After mixing it all together in a bowl, he finds some chives and tomatoes, then dices and throws them in.

Eddie pulls out the biggest non-stick pan he can find and throws a couple of tablespoons of butter in. It starts sliding instantly, the heat of the gas melting it as soon as it hits the pan. He whisks the mixture and goes to turn on some music on Richie’s phone, peeking his head around the corner to make sure that the bedroom door is closed. He unlocks the phone, and his eyes instantly fall on the background photo, covered in app icons. He has to slide to the very last page of the apps (most of which are fucking games), but he knows he wasn’t wrong - it’s a photo Bev took of the two of them when Richie was leaving for California. Eddie’s head is in the crook of his neck, and he’s hanging off the tall boy. Eddie remembers that his face was beet red from crying and he wanted to kiss Richie more than life itself at that moment. But this version of the photo is edited in black and white, and the sentimentality of it all makes Eddie tear up.

He instantly remembers the photo on his own background taken Junior year of high school when they had a sleepover at Bev’s, and she gave Richie a makeover with pigtails and makeup and everything. He is grinning really hard in that one, eyes shining and just all happiness and teeth. It’s Eddie’s favorite photo of him, and as many as he got after, he could never replace it. He turns on Bea Miller’s outside and lowers the volume to only be heard around the living room area. He pours the mixture in and spreads out the veggies evenly, leaving it to fry for a little while.

There’s nothing else in the fridge that would go for a fulsome meal, so he decides that they’re just going to have to go to lunch somewhere else. And Eddie is trying to cut back on coffee, so he cuts that out of the list of possible drinks. He stands there swaying in the kitchen for a little while, keeping a close eye on the puffy omelet. As soon as it’s done and bored starts playing, Eddie is elated, happy, and too relaxed for his own good. He’s feeling the tug on his lower abdomen return when he remembers how Richie looked when he woke up, and almost squeals in anticipation.

He takes out two plates and splits the omelet in half, making sure to be extra careful. He can’t cook much of anything else, but omelets are kind of his thing. He turns on a playlist named R because it’s all Richie’s favorite songs and almost all of them are some sort of sexual innuendos, so it works. He taps shuffle, and the first one to play is Mac Miller’s God Is Fair, Sexy Nasty, and Eddie snorts loudly, unable to contain himself.

He pushes the bedroom door handle down gently, trying not to make too much noise. It creaks a bit when it opens but doesn’t seem to make much of a difference because Richie is still asleep, although now he’s sprawled across the bed on his back. Both arms are reaching out to almost either side and the cotton sheet it still hanging off his lower body but much lower this time. Eddie can prominently see the dark patch of hair peeking through it, and his dick twitches in response as soon as his eyes land there. He swallows thickly and silently puts both plates on top of the dark wooden dresser.

The music is softly flowing through the apartment, making its way into the room and amplifying the mood that Eddie is already in. He is practically drooling as he makes his way to the bed, head heavy from the amount of filthy thoughts running through his mind. Richie’s brows furrow in his sleep and Eddie bites his lip, freezing on the spot. But Richie doesn’t wake up and stays in his position, merely putting one of the legs to the side under the sheet. Why thank you for the easy access.

Eddie crawls from the bottom of the bed, putting one knee on the mattress on the side of Richie’s straight leg. The other stays on the floor, keeping him steady and devoid of unwanted movement. Richie is still fast asleep, his chest rising and falling slowly. Eddie gets distracted by its movement for several seconds, watching how it resonates in the motion of skin against the other’s ribs. Richie opens and closes his mouth, breaking Eddie out of the reverie, and he continues on his mission to have what he goddamn actually wanted for breakfast.

Richie’s straight leg is almost completely bare because the bent one dragged the sheet under it, and Eddie wants to just rip it off but he kind of wants to delay it a bit too. So he starts by slowly trailing his finger on the inside of the exposed thigh and sees that Richie almost instantly starts squirming a bit. He smiles and makes it go higher, going under the sheet. He feels himself get very close to Richie’s balls and pulls back, wanting to continue the rest of the way with his mouth.

Eddie bends down and starts planting kisses on top of the bare thigh, putting his other hand between the other’s legs for balance. Richie squirms again but doesn’t wake, and Eddie is practically singing from the pride he feels in the smoothness of his movements. He gets to the little triangle of the sheet that’s barely holding onto the beginning of Richie’s thigh and kisses over it, not wanting to move it just yet. He kisses above it, and a little higher than the dark patch of hair is, struggling to keep himself from deep-throating Richie right off the bat. He remembers the sounds he was making last night, and it makes him restrain his hips from bucking onto the other’s leg.  

It’s a losing battle at that point because Eddie can’t really contain himself anymore, and he bites Richie’s abdomen gently, right below the navel, wanting to hear him. Richie starts to wake up slowly, but instead of straddling him, Eddie just keeps kissing lower, now finally tugging the sheet down to expose what he can only think of as holy grail. Not that he’d ever tell Richie.

He tries to keep his eyes on the other’s face, kissing down the dark patch, his own dick hard as a wooden headboard of the bed. He puts one hand on Richie’s bent leg, rubbing it soothingly as he reaches the other’s cock that seemed to have reciprocated without the tall boy's conscious will. Smiling smugly, Eddie kisses the tip of the head that has the tiniest amount of pre-come on it already and trails the rest of the kisses lower. He notices Richie’s eyes instantly shoot open and he lifts his head to look straight at Eddie. The small boy smiles mischievously in response, giving Richie’s thigh another squeeze.

“Eds?” asks Richie in a holy raspy voice, his face still thick with sleep. He looks like sticky sweet candy and Eddie restrains himself from literally licking him all over. Beyoncé’s 6 Inch starts playing in the distance.

“Yes, baby?” asks Eddie flirtatiously, kissing the tip again. He hears Richie hiss and sees the muscles on his stomach clench.

“W-what are you doing?” Richie’s voice is all sleepy and wrecked, and Eddie feels like he died and gone off to heaven.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” asks Eddie and licks the entirety of Richie’s length.

The other’s head falls back, and he seems to be rubbing hands all over his face. Then he lays motionless for a couple of seconds, and Eddie thinks he screwed everything up. Maybe he doesn’t want this. Maybe morning sex isn’t his thing. Wait, how many-

Eddie yelps when he feels rough hands under his armpits, and he only recovers when his back hits the bouncy mattress. He wants to be upset but giggles instead, squeezing Richie’s shoulder. The other is hovering right above him, a dark halo of unruly strands surrounding his face. Richie leans down and kisses the corner of Eddie’s mouth, and the small boy realizes that he’s probably unsure whether Eddie would want to kiss him before he brushed his teeth. Set on proving his friend wrong, Eddie tugs Richie down by the neck, opening his mouth for a passionate kiss. He can feel Richie’s arms shake on the sides of his body, dropping to the elbows. Their tongues connect, and Eddie’s hips lift up involuntarily, and he feels Richie’s hard-on pressing into his thigh.

Richie pulls back and looks at him, dark eyes and chest heaving. “Why are you wearing clothes?”

Before Eddie can respond, the other starts kissing the exposed parts of his chest, pushing the robe to the sides with his face as he goes down. He tugs on the strand around Eddie’s waist with his teeth, untying the knot. Eddie’s lower abdomen feels like exploding, mirroring the feeling in his balls. Richie pulls back more and finishes the job with his hands, opening the robe completely, both sides falling on Eddie’s arms. He looks him over for long several seconds, drinking him in and Eddie wants to feel embarrassed, but the intensity in Richie’s eyes is leaving no room for doubt regarding his attraction to Eddie.

“Jesus, you’re so hot, it’s sickening.” Richie’s hands drop to Eddie’s waist, four fingers trailing in the back and thumbs rubbing all over the other’s torso.

Eddie moans when he feels Richie’s thumbs on the hollows of his hips, and he feels his dick twitch against Richie’s arm. He must feel it too because he smiles, leaning down to give Eddie an overwhelming longing kiss. When he pulls back his face is flushed, and some of his chest is too, and Eddie thinks he’s nervous.

“I want to fuck you. Can I, please?” Richie is practically purring, staring into Eddie’s eyes intensely. He honestly didn’t think Richie would be ready so soon, what with no experience with men and all, but he thinks this might be better for him to start off with.

“Why do you need my permission? Do you think I’ll say no?” asks Eddie, tugging on Richie’s lobe with his teeth. The other whines quietly, keening towards the bite.

“I have to ask. I’ve never done it, so you need to guide me through it.” Eddie sits up on his elbows, their faces impossibly close together.

He gives Richie a sweet kiss and smiles, rubbing their cheeks together soothingly. “You’re so sweet in bed, Tozier. Who would’ve thought.”

Richie’s eyes are shiny and cheeks even more red after Eddie’s sweet gestures, and he can’t help the tug in his chest at how vulnerable Richie is right now.

“Just wait until I’m pounding your hole into oblivion, Kaspbrak,” answers Richie grinning. Aaaaand, he’s back.

Eddie groans and pushes the lanky man off him. “Go get the lube and start warming it between your hands. Just don’t put too much. I’ll be right back.”

When Eddie comes back from cleaning himself, Richie is pushing the substance between his palms, odd sounds forming in the process. Eddie rolls his eyes and strolls towards him, lifting his chin with a finger. “I told you not to take too much.”

Richie looks up innocently, his eyes full of love and Eddie thinks he might melt straight through the fucking floor. “Spaghetti, it’s fun to play with, don’t complain.” 

Richie smiles wide, and Eddie’s knees are suddenly weak. He kisses the tip of the tall boy’s nose and rounds him to plop back on the bed, both completely naked now. Eddie strokes himself a couple of times to get the hardness back, and it hardly takes long when Richie starts watching him, his expression screaming DROOLVILLE.

“Come here, Don Quixote,” says Eddie nodding to the space between his legs. He instantly notices that Richie didn’t open the curtains while he was away and he’s thankful - it’s better like this, for now, in case it gets… messy.

Richie enthusiastically shuffles towards him on his knees, a hard cock bouncing side to side. Eddie snorts and covers his mouth instantly, afraid of ruining the mood. But Richie doesn’t seem to mind and nervously smiles instead, holding his hands awkwardly between Eddie’s knees. Eddie instantly softens and takes a deep breath, thinking of how to make it easier on both of them.

“Okay, here,” says Eddie taking Richie’s hands in his and spreading some of the lube into his own fingers. Delighted that it’s already warm, probably from the other’s nervously hot hands, he brushes it on the pads of his fingers. His eyes nervously fall to Richie’s hands, but he closes his eyes in relief when he sees that they’re perfectly manicured. A trip for the nail clippers would definitely ruin the mood.

“Can you grab that pillow?” asks Eddie and nods towards the one that's hanging on the edge of the bed.

Richie nods and wipes the left hand on his stomach, now almost devoid of lube, and reaches out to get the pillow. Eddie lifts his hips, and Richie’s eyes get stuck on his crotch for a second, a new blush forming on top of the cheeks. Fuck, I love it when he’s blushing. Eddie settles on the pillow comfortably, leaving enough space between them for Richie to see what he’s doing.

“Okay, watch what I’m going to do. I’ll prep myself a little, but I kind of want you to do it too, so pay attention?” Now it is Eddie’s time to blush. Richie nods nervously and shifts on the back of his heels, still working the lube in his right hand.

Eddie slowly circles his middle finger around the rim, getting used to the stickiness which always takes him a while. Richie is watching with apparent fascination, his lips a little parted and Eddie has to bite his lip to prevent a pleased whine. He pushes the finger in a little, carefully guiding it deeper. Richie shifts closer, probably unable to contain himself and his left hand drops to Eddie’s thigh. The small boy’s breathing is getting ragged under the other’s dark eyes, and the muscles inside the hole are unclenching as if on command. He pushes in more, now the second knuckle in and gives it some time, trying to wiggle the tip of the finger a bit. After he feels the hole relax again, he pushes in more, the whole finger tightly trapped inside. Eddie merely brushes over the familiar pleasure spot and moans quietly, imagining what it would be like to have Richie there.

He takes a finger out and spreads more lube between them to add another. Now with two fingers, he’s pushing in slower, breathing heavily, his eyes never leaving Richie. The other is just staring, and his hand is squeezing Eddie’s thigh relentlessly, making the small boy’s dick twitch. Richie’s forehead is sweating a bit, and he’s breathing hard too, barely holding himself. Eddie is slowly pushing the two fingers in, the first knuckle in, and tries to breathe evenly to avoid slowing down the process. Richie’s free hand is twitching towards Eddie’s dick but doesn’t get there, rubbing the lube between the fingers non-stop. Eddie takes out the two fingers and grabs onto Richie’s hand.

“Now. Try it.” It surprises Eddie how affected his voice already is, and they haven’t even started yet.

Richie looks at him nervously for a second and then leans down more, bringing his hand close to Eddie’s hole. He looks him in the eye for permission and Eddie nods, releasing the other’s hand. Richie pushes in the pad of the middle finger first, testing the response. Seeing that he wasn’t hurting Eddie, he pushes in further, easily going in to the last knuckle. His breath hitches in surprise, and he wiggles his finger inside a bit, making Eddie moan. He pulls out slowly and after spreading more lube, pushes the two in, going steady and carefully.

Eddie is infinitely grateful for the care that the other is putting into making him feel good. He wants Richie to feel good too. He watches the crease forming between his brows as he’s pushing in more, afraid of hurting Eddie, the little beads of sweat on the temples, and the plump redness of his lips. Eddie feels his heart clench from love and arousal. He throws his head back when the two of Richie’s fingers are finally fully in, brushing him in all the right places from the length. Richie smiles triumphantly and pulls out slowly, prepping to go in one last time.

Three fingers squeezed together he starts pushing in slowly, taking his time to do it properly. Eddie is barely holding off at that point, The Neighborhood’s Flawless playing in the background, Richie’s hand on his lower abdomen intensifying the growing pressure there and he’s truly struggling now, scared of coming too quickly. He tries to think of something gross but doesn’t want to lose a boner, so it’s hopeless either way.

Richie’s fingers are almost all the way in, and he spreads them slowly from time to time, and Eddie is done for. He’s so overstimulated at that point that he is sure once Richie gets inside him, he’ll come instantly. He prays it doesn’t happen, or for Richie to be as affected as him. Judging by the look in the other’s eyes he is, but it’s still hard to tell. Three fingers are finally in to the brink, and Eddie feels his eyes sting with tears of pure pleasure. Richie’s hand involuntarily goes to Eddie’s dick and the other swats it away.

“I’m gonna come, Rich. Don’t.”

Richie’s curls his fingers inward and Eddie’s moan is louder than the music. “Isn’t that the point?”

“You idiot, I want you inside me.”

Richie finally gets with the program and slowly pulls the fingers out reaching out for the condom at the end of the bed. He slides it on confidently and lines up with Eddie’s hole, holding him below the knees momentarily. He leans down to give Eddie a longing kiss, and the other is all but screaming at this point, trying to reach for Richie’s dick between them. Richie grins against his lips and covers Eddie’s small fingers, pushing in slowly. Eddie instantly grabs onto Richie’s bicep, all heaving breaths, his back sweating from anticipation. Richie seems to be barely keeping it together, his hand squeezing Eddie’s hip relentlessly.

He’s pushing in slowly, not teasingly but it still gets to Eddie, and he just wants to ride him for fuck’s sake. Eddie is tugging Richie closer, trying to hint at speeding up and the other gets the message, pushing in faster now. The room is filled with strained breathing and the sounds of both of them clutching at each other’s skin for grounding. Richie finally pushes all the way in and drops his head on Eddie’s knee, bracing himself for a second.

“M-move, please, god, fucking move,” says Eddie breathlessly, feeling so full and aroused that the words are all but a scramble in his head.

Richie bites into the other’s knee and pulls out a bit before moving back in, moaning out loudly. “Jesus, Eddie, fucking fuck, shit - AH gooood.”

He’s pushing in faster now, the stretch of Eddie’s hole comfortable enough for both of them to move quicker. Eddie starts to move in the direction of Richie’s body, trying to make the motion more intense.

“FUCK, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuuuuuck,” groans out Eddie when Richie gets at a pace that makes his insides boil.

Richie starts moving closer, encouraged by Eddie’s loud sounds and he sits back a bit, pounding into the other. Eddie’s moan is suddenly almost a scream, and Richie pauses for a second, visibly terrified, but Eddie slaps him on the chest and starts moving against him. Seems like the other gets a hint because he sits back even more and Eddie rolls his eyes backward, brows burrowed and nothing but ‘oh, ah’ coming out of his mouth.

“Shit, fucking h-hell, Eddie I’m so close,” breathes out Richie, clutching onto both sides of Eddie’s hips and pounding into him desperately. Christina Aguilera’s Sex for Breakfast starts playing in the kitchen.

Eddie suddenly stops rutting against Richie and quickly pushes him on the side, with the other’s dick still inside him. “Wha-“

“Shut up, shut up, shut up-” says Eddie and starts riding Richie relentlessly, whining loudly from the intense pressure right on his prostate.

He opens his eyes for a second and Richie is staring at him, hands clutching at the hips and pink lips parted. Eddie is in full overdrive, his legs shaking, hands clutching Richie’s on his hips and their moans mixed together is the best sound he’s ever heard. When Richie starts pounding into him from underneath Eddie’s lower abdomen tightens almost too painfully, and his orgasm is close enough that if cold air hit his dick right now, he’d come instantly. And as if reading his mind, Richie grabs onto Eddie’s cock, and all it takes is one pump for orgasm to ripple through him, more intense than he’s had in his entire life.

Eddie feels like he’s floating, he feels the corners of his mouth lift up after a drawn-out moan. Richie doesn’t feel as long and hard in him anymore, and he knows he finished too, remembering hearing the other’s moans through the haze of his own ecstasy. He pushes his palms into Richie’s stomach, wobbling from the high, and finally open his eyes slowly taking in the sight of a spent Tozier.

Fuck, this boy is a vision. Richie’s chest is wet in the middle and so is his hairline. His cheeks are red, and lower lip matches the color, swollen from all the biting. His hands are limp on Eddie’s hips, but they’re still there, and Eddie feels his fingers twitch as he comes down from his own high. Richie’s face is relaxed and tranquil, a sleepy smile stretching on the lower part of it. His lashes are moving slowly, and he sees the effort with which Richie tries to open his eyes. He giggles and Richie finally does, looking up at him half-lidded and ethereal.

“Hey,” says Eddie, biting his lower lip.

“Hi, babyyyy,” purrs Richie and Eddie finds that for the first time in his life, he doesn’t mind being called ‘baby’.

Eddie leans down and kisses him softly, their tongues barely touching, breaths still strained as they struggled to calm down. It eventually gets too uncomfortable, and Eddie pushes up, hearing Richie wince as his dick leaves the hole. He quickly takes off the condom and throws it on the floor, spreading his arms wide and grinning.

Eddie is still hovering above him smiling in response. “I made us breakfast, you know.” He points at the two plates behind them on the dresser.

Richie looks behind Eddie and lies back down. He pinches Eddie’s butt cheek at which the other squeals. “I’d rather eat you over,” he starts sitting up, “over,” even more, “and over again,” he finally presses himself against Eddie’s chest and puts both palms on the other’s back, pushing them flush against each other.

He starts biting all over the small boy’s neck, making exaggerated sounds and Eddie is laughing hard, not caring one bit about come spreading between their abdomens. He lifts Richie’s head and kisses him longingly, long enough to feel something stir inside him again. He gets up and stretches his hand out. “Let’s go shower, baaaaby.” Richie jumps up enthusiastically and slaps Eddie on the butt with playful affection. Eddie starts running towards the bathroom, the other on his toes, trying to get another slap or squeeze in.

I could get used to that.

#reddie #richie and eddie #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #reddie one shot #my writing

[bxxpbxxprichie]

Part three bichie soulmate au??

Part One / Two / Three

Didn’t edit this because I’m a piece of shit, but here it is.

Dedicated to @bcckybeaver for the amazing moodboard 

Warnings: Violence, Pain, Self-Harm

Word Count: 1719

“Rich, calm down.”

They'd now gotten the attention of Eddie and Stan, who were rushing back to them.

“It's okay, Eddie. I s-should’ve kept m-m-m-my mouth s-s-shut.” Bill recoiled a bit.

“Stay out of it, Eds. Go frolic with your soulmate.” Richie reared on the smallest of them, almost spitting the word ‘soulmate’ at the two of them.

“Don't talk to him like that!” Stan stepped closer, as if wanting to shield Eddie.

“What the fuck is your problem, Bird Boy? Don't tell me how to talk to my boyfriend! It's none of your god damn business!” Now Richie was chest to chest with the curly haired male, their noses almost touching.

“Richie! Stop!” Eddie's plea’s were unheard.

“He's not your boyfriend anymore. Get that through your head.” Stan pushed him back, not too violently, but wanting the other out of his space.

“We haven't broken up! He is still my boyfriend!” Richie gave a shove back.

“Yeah? Well guess what, asshole? He's my soulmate! You know what that means? He's mine!” Stan pushed him back once more, trying to keep distance between them.

Richie started in on Stan again, his arm raising to throw a punch, before a much forgotten Bill tugged on his arm and pulled him around.

“Stop this.” Bill spoke, his voice all commanding.

Something in Richie's stomach dropped, the command in the taller males voice breaking through to him. But he was fighting it. Just like he was wanting to fight someone.

His fist connected with Bill's cheek, and both Stan and Eddie grabbed his arms. Richie elbowed Eddie roughly in the stomach, and the smallest male fell into the snow.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Richard?!” His voice was laced with pain, but anger overpowered it all.

Richie turned quickly, all anger dissipating at seeing his boyfriend in the snow. His cheekbone throbbed with a short amount of pain he shared with Bill.

“I'm so sorry, Eds.” Richie offered a hand down.

Eddie slapped his hand away. “You're acting like a fucking idiot asshole. You know who you remind me of, right now?” His eyes were narrowing with his words, as Stan helped him up.

Richie froze.

“You're acting like freshman year Richie. And he'd better fucking retreat before you lose your best friend.” Eddie brushed the snow off his ass.

Richie didn't respond.

He just ran.

Bill didn't know what was happening anymore. For a moment, he and his soulmate were getting along. But maybe that was the problem.

Richie didn't want to like him.

He understood it. Nothing about this was easy for any of them. He felt like he was losing Stan, and he was sure Stan felt the same way. He was just blinded by the beautiful boy standing next to him.

Bill would be blinded too, at some point. But he was trying to guard his heart. He knew this would get harder before it got easier.

He rubbed his throbbing cheek as he sat in the back of Stan’s jeep. It wasn’t very often, but Bill would sometimes get this deep rooted sadness, a pain in his chest he was unable to rub away. He thought that maybe he was depressed or something because of everything that happened with Georgie. And it wasn’t that he didn’t have some sort of problems from his childhood, but this pain didn’t feel like his.

It felt like a second-hand pain.

He hadn’t heard of it before. Feeling emotional pain. But maybe that’s because most people don’t feel the terrible sort of sadness that accompanies certain events before they meet their soulmates.

Bill had, when he lost Georgie.

And he knew Richie had too. He didn’t know what those events were, but he’d felt the chest pains before.

He felt them now, and he knew exactly what they were for.

His chest ached, and he sucked in a shuddering breath. It was overpowering. He felt like sobbing. Sure, he wasn’t happy in the situation, but he wasn’t feeling this bad over it. This was majorly Richie.

He didn’t understand it.

“You alright, Bill? I’m sorry, again. I’m going to have a talk with him and try to make things better.” Eddie turned in the passenger seat to look at Bill.

“Y-y-y-yeah. I’m okay. T-t-t-thanks. J-j-j-ust k-keep in t-touch, alright?” Bill gave Eddie a slightly sad smile.

“I will.” Eddie smiled back.

“Let me walk you to the door.” Stan’s even voice broke through it all.

The two of them got out of the jeep, and Bill climbed up to settle himself in the passenger seat once both doors were shut. He kept his eyes downcast, not wanting to know if the two kissed, hugged, anything.

The drivers side door opened minutes later, and Stan looked conflicted. He brushed a hand through his curls, before putting both hands on the steering wheel and gripping it hard.

“I’m gonna kick that guy's ass.” Stan growled.

“No you’re not. He’s just hurt, Stan. I’m hurt. And if you beat his ass you’ll be hurting me too. Don’t forget.” Bill sniffed, his hand still rubbing at the pain in his chest.

Stan gave a heaving sigh, brushing another hand through his hair, “I know, I know...That’s the only reason I won’t kick his ass.” He put his jeep into gear and pulled away from Eddie’s place.

The drive back to Derry was quiet, other than a random sniffle, or a cough. They made it back to the Uris household, and the two boys shuffled up the steps. Stan knew he had to tell his parents he met his soulmate today, but now was not the time.

The two of them began undressing. Things felt different now. Not in a bad way, just that they both knew today was their last day of messing around. Stan was going to be so gone on Eddie within days. Bill wasn’t going to push it.

He just hoped he would still have his best friend.

“So, did you kiss him?” Bill asked, his voice a little thick as he tugged his sweatshirt over his head, his shirt coming off right with it.

“What-?” Stan choked.

Bill turned and looked at him. Even through puffy, red eyes, a ‘you know what I said’ look was shot, along with a thin eyebrow raising in amusement.

“I-uh...no, not on the lips. We hugged, and I kissed his forehead. I just...with Richie going as insane as he is, I don’t want to kiss Eddie and then Richie do something stupid. It’ll just end up with all four of us in too much pain.” Stan explained, exchanging his jeans for flannel sleep pants.

Bill hummed in response, shucking his jeans off and crawling into Stan’s bed in nothing but boxers and socks. “We can still cuddle, right?” He asked, a childish grin on his face as he rubbed at his chest.

“Right...and you need to stop doing that, you’re making it red.” Stan crossed to the bed and pulled Bill’s hand away from his chest to show the impressive red mark that marred his sternum.

Bill looked down at it with a furrowed brow, before his eyes caught on a different spot.

“What the-” He shifted from his knees to his ass, and looked at his right thigh. His boxers were already riding up from gravity. He pulled them back more, eyes brushing over the purpling spots on his skin.

“Should we…? I’m gonna call Eddie.”

Richie had ran. He had ran so far his chest was heaving and the cold night air was biting his lungs. He had ran all the way home. He didn’t know how long it had taken him, really, but he was here.

His hands were shaking so much he was having a hard time unlocking his front door, the key missing the lock about a billion times before actually sliding in. The lock clicked and he pushed the door open, not bothering it shut it behind him as he trampled up the stairs to his room.

His bedroom door slammed behind him. He vaguely heard his father yelling up at him for making such a noise at this time of night. He ignored it though, his mind still reeling from the whole day.

It had been so good. So good that morning. He finally got to mark up his boyfriend the way he always wanted too, they were happy, in love, and going to have a great day.

And now they were in a fight, probably not boyfriend’s anymore, and he punched his soulmate.

His cheek ached slightly where he’d punched his soulmate, but it wasn’t enough.

He wasn’t being punished enough.

Richie threw his clothes off, scarf and all suddenly feeling very suffocating on his thin body. He was naked in moments, standing in front of his mirror. He was disgusted with himself. How could he get so angry at Eddie? He almost hit him. He probably would’ve, if Bill hadn’t caught his attention again.

His fingers curled into a tight fist, short nails digging tightly into his palm. It started small, really. A light tap of his knuckles against his thigh. His other fingers drummed against his other thigh, trying to rid his still body of some energy. His arm lifted a bit more, before coming down harder onto the meat of his thigh.

The pain was dull, achey. But, bruises were easy to brush off. People would believe him when he said he didn’t know how they happened.

His hand lifted further, driving down harder against his reddening skin. A soft whimper left his lips this time, but he kept at it, his fist speeding up now.

Smack! Smack! Smack!

On and on it went, skin slapping against skin as his fist pummeled into his thigh. He couldn’t stop himself at this point, it was automatic. His brain was wandering elsewhere, a blank slate as his skin started bruising under his ministrations.

He finally stopped after a while, panting lowly. He didn’t look at his leg, not wanting to see the damage. But he felt it. The throb was a good reminder. He deserved this. He deserved to feel this pain.

Richie crawled into bed and curled up into himself, crying for the thousandth time that night.

Tag List:

@beepbeeprichie @killerxqueer @spoookyboi @spooky-kaspbrak @lemon-drop-writings @ithinkthe4thkindisabuttthing @antisociallilbrat @reddietoziier@toziergazebos @multifandomimaginings @godhateslil @cupcakeatl @richie-n-eds@paperboat-bill @ssmirking @acerichie @crutchiedeservesmore @trulytozier @richiestoziers

#bbrbs #bichie #richie tozier #bill denbrough #reddie #eddie kaspbrak #stanley uris #stan uris #steddie #stenbrough #tw: self harm #Anonymous

[bitsy83]

Sing 2 - Duets

(Just the first chapter of my fan-sequel to my new favorite movie. I just hope I can get this posting down ok.)  

Chapter 1 - A New Day

“I remember when I was a kid, my dad always told me to never let failure stop you from achieving your goals. After all, if all roads to success were easy, then everyone would be a winner. And you have to know how to lose in order to know what winning is really all about.

“Less than a year ago, I was an optimistic, but struggling, theater producer who barely had two pennies to rub together. My shows were failing, money was practically nonexistent, and I had more death threats than an Internet troll. My best pal, Eddie, told me time and again to just give up and let the theater go so I could move on to bigger and better things. What he didn’t realize was this was my bigger and better thing and I wasn’t letting it go for anybody. So, in a last ditch effort, I decided to do the one thing I knew would pack my theater to the brim: a singing competition! I won’t go into too much detail, but let’s just say this was both the greatest idea I ever had and the biggest mistake I ever made. I may have stretched the truth here and there about the prize money and maybe have put a bit too much pressure on my contestants and myself, which eventually led to the collapse - both figuratively and literally - of my beloved theater.

“I was a failure. A washed-up clown. A loose cannon, I believe someone stated. I had hit rock bottom, which meant one thing: the only place left I had to go…was up. But I didn’t do it alone…

“While I still had Eddie and dear Ms. Crawley in my corner, the competition introduced me a lively group of characters I would later on call my friends and close knit theater family. Johnny, Rosita, Gunter, Ash, Meena, and Mike. (Well, Mike when he wasn’t avoiding the loan sharks and killer Russian bears).  With their help, I was able to not only put on a fantastic show, but my theater was restored to its former glory, thanks to the illustrious Nana Noodleman.

“I swear, I’ve never seen this place so popular, not even when I was a kid! Obviously, I had to make some changes if I was able to make this second chance last.  Dear Mrs. Noodleman oversees the productions and gives insight on what should and should not be performed. We still put on various plays and concerts, but we’ve even gotten requests to use the stage as a wedding venue and other private events.  This is always good for a little extra spending money for any future shows we have, especially for my little theater family.  They still put on their shows and even help out backstage when their talents are not required onstage.

“For example, Rosita has offered to help out with prop and set design.  I guess when you are raising twenty-five children and one husband, organization and good imagination just come naturally to you.  Gunter has offered to be our official choreographer.  He’s an excellent teacher, though sometimes his students get a bit embarrassed when he breaks out the sequenced leotards.  While Meena has finally gotten over her stage fright and does occasionally perform, she happened to take quite a shine to working as a stagehand.  She’s hoping that it’ll help beef up her college resumes.  Poor girl’s been stressing herself out in getting into a good school so she can major in music and maybe even theater (a girl after my own heart).  

“Our up-and-coming rock star, Ash, has set an all-time record for rebounding after her ugly breakup with what’s-his-name.  Not only has she written countless new songs since her first solo performance, she reunited a few old schoolmates of hers and started a new band: Nature’s Rejects. (Not my first choice for a band name, but what can you do?)  This girl’s been getting gigs all over the city and has become a local celebrity.

“Last, but not least, Johnny.  I knew the second I looked at him that this kid was going to be a whiz on the piano and I was right.  He still gets lessons from Ms. Crawley, but he’s such a pro now that I think he only does it to have access to a piano.  Hearing him sing while tickling the ebony and ivory just melts your heart.

“The hands of fate has given me a new beginning. I may have taken a final bow at my old theater, but this revival will live on for generations to come! Or my name isn’t Buster…”

A knock on the door interrupted Buster’s monologue. “Good morning, Mr. Moon,” said Ms. Crawley as she shuffled into his office, holding a cup of coffee.

“Hold that thought, Ms. Crawley,” said Buster and quickly went to his camera tripod, turning off the recording button. “Looks like my auto-documentary will have to be put on hold. So, what is on the agenda today?”

“Well, let’s see…” With a shaky hand, Ms. Crawley pulled out her notepad. “Meena and Eddie will be working on the new sound system and lighting fixtures we ordered. Johnny will be in for his usual piano lesson. Oh, and Ash and her little friends will be using rehearsal room A for practice until about one, and then we start rehearsals for the new play. Rosita will be here early to help with the set design.”

“Excellent!” said Buster, sipping his coffee. “Just like a well-oiled machine.” He walked over to his window, taking a deep breath. “It’s gonna be a good day, Ms. Crawley. And there will be plenty more to come after that!”

***

“Honey, have you seen my car keys?” asked Norman as he was wiping Casper’s face with a paper towel.

“Coat pocket,” said Rosita, pulling an action figure out of Hannah’s mouth. “Ok, where did I put my binder?”

“On the counter near the coffeemaker.”

It was just another chaotic morning at the breakfast nook for Rosita and family, though the morning routine has had some upgrades. Ever since Rosita performed her song with Gunter, Norman saw her in a whole new light. After a long, heartfelt talk, he realized that he had been taking his wife for granted and should have been helping her with the kids as well as her new job at Moon theater. So now, Norman gets up with Rosita and together they help the kids get ready for school and getting their own schedules on track. Rosita was never one to complain, but she was so happy to finally get a little extra help in the morning as well as around the house. Although they still kept up her strange contraption to get the kids out of bed and do the cleaning while they were both at work.

So, after giving the kids their backpacks (Rosita did the girls while Norman got the boys) and sending them on their way, Norman and Rosita took a moment to fix each other up.

“Bye Norman,” said Rosita, straightening his tie.

“Bye bye, Rosita,” said Norman, handing her her purse. “Tell Gunter I said…what’s hello in German again?”

“Guten Tag. And I will.” Rosita chuckled and gave her husband a loving kiss. “See you tonight, honey. Have a great day at work.”

With that, Norman went to the car while Rosita hummed down the street in the opposite direction. It was gonna be a good day; she could feel it.

*** Meena hummed to herself as she was preparing the pancake batter. Since she was plugged into her tunes, she didn’t hear her grandfather come up behind her, trying to steal a few extra chocolate chips. His attempt was thwarted thanks to Meena’s mother smacking his trunk.

“No dad,” she scolded. “You remember what the doctor said about your blood pressure: cut back on the sweets!”

Grandpa just harrumphed and went to sit down at the breakfast table. “I still think I need a second opinion. That doc’s a quack.”

“He’s a duck, dad…”

“So I got a bit of a sweet tooth,” he continued. “I’ve been eating like that since I was Meena’s age and I still made star quarterback on the college football team.”

“Well, you’re not her age now, so you’re gonna have to follow doctor’s orders. Besides, I made you a nice bowl of oatmeal instead.”

“I can make something else,” said Meena, who had taken off her headphones.

But her mother shook her head. “You finish up on the pancakes, sweetie. You know how you grandma loves them. Speaking of which, I better go see if she’s having trouble finding her glasses again.”

After placing the bowl of oatmeal in front of her disgruntled father, Meena’s mom left the kitchen to head upstairs. Once the coast was clear, Meena picked up the bowl of chips and went over to the table. She held a finger to her lips and sprinkled a few chips on his oatmeal. Grandpa chuckled. “That’s my girl.”

“Mom does have a point though,” she said. “I don’t want you getting sick.”

Grandpa laughed as he took a bite of his breakfast. “Aw, I’m as fit as a fiddle, Meena. Don’t you worry about me. Or should I say ‘Don’t you worry ‘bout a thiiiing!”

Meena giggled. “Very cute, Grandpa.” She gave him a small kiss on his head, then went back to the stove.

“That reminds me, baby girl. Did you ever hear back from that dream school of yours?”

“Lincoln?” Meena shook her head. “No, not yet. Although I’m starting to wonder if I still have a shot…”

“Of course you do! So the other schools you applied for turned you down. So what? If they had half a brain, they’d have taken you in a heartbeat! Once you become a world-famous singer, they’ll be kicking themselves to their graves.”

Meena rolled her eyes. Once again, her grandfather was promoting her as a superstar singer. “Grandpa, I know you want me to make it big, but I want to do more with my life than just sing. I wanna learn everything I can about music. The history, the styles, the impact it has on different cultures. And thanks to Mr. Moon, now I’m kinda interesting in theater production.”

Grandpa coughed. “You mean, you’d rather go back behind the curtain again? I thought you were over your stage fright.”

“I am!” she said, placing the fresh batch of pancakes on the table. “I just want something to fall back on, that’s all. I can’t put all my eggs in one basket.”

Shaking his head in both admiration and frustration, Grandpa took another bite of his oatmeal. “Well, I can’t argue with your logic, baby girl. Just don’t deny the world your gift, that’s all I’m saying.”

“Who says I only have one gift to give?”

Grandpa laughed. “That’s true, that’s true. Nice to finally see some backbone growing outta you. Make me some coffee, baby. I’m gonna get the paper.”

***

Ash grumbled as she dragged her feet to the kitchen. She hated mornings, whether they be the crack of dawn or eleven o’clock. She was strictly an afternoon, evening, and night kind of girl.  She was about to start the coffee when she saw a cup for her was already made. Ash smirked and reached for the creamer. “Thank you, Olive,” she said over her shoulder.

Ever since her breakup with Lance, Ash wasted no time in moving forward as much as possible. One step forward including patching things up with her old friend, Olive; a raccoon Ash knew back from the third grade. Olive was loyal and friendly, though gifted with a sarcastic wit that she wasn’t afraid to unleash. They had been very close in the past, but once Ash started dating Lance during their junior year in high school, their friendship faltered.  Once the breakup happened, Ash contacted Olive again and the two of them were finally able to talk things over.  Everything connected to Lance (including music posters, clothing, old CDs, and his weird collection of bottle caps) was successfully removed from the apartment, Olive moved in and they got along swimmingly.

Olive chuckled as she sat at the table with the morning paper. “Figured it was either that or break out the air horn. How is it that I’m a nocturnal animal and still get up before you do?”

“You got messed up DNA?” said Ash. “So, anything about zombies in the paper?”

Olive shook her head. “Not yet, though apparently a piece of sand covered in oyster mucus is touring the country.”

Ash looked over Olive’s shoulder to see what she was referring to. The front page of the paper said Priceless 600 Year-Old Pearl To Be Displayed at City Museum. Below the headline, a picture of a large white orb was displayed on a velvet pillow in glass box. Ash let out a low whistle. “Wow, imagine having that on your eBay page.”

“Seriously. Hey, we rehearsing at the theater today?”

Ash’s second step forward was working on her music career and Olive was just the boost she needed. Olive was already great at the bass and was friends with a drummer named Brandy: a sweet, bubbly teenage skunk who was addicted to all forms of social media.  This actually wasn’t a bad thing since Brandy was in charge of the band’s Facebook page and Twitter account.  

“Yup,” said Ash as she downed the rest of her coffee. “Be sure to text Brandy.  I don’t want her missing the warm-up again.”

“Don’t worry; she’ll be there,” said Olive, wiping her glasses on the corner of shirt. Especially if she wants to see Johnny…

***

“Thirty-six…thirty-seven…thirty-eight…”

Johnny blinked away the sweat in his eyes as he finished up another set of curl-ups while hanging upside down.  He kept catching glimpses of the news broadcast during his sets.  

“The pearl will be displayed at the Cornea Museum for exactly one month before continuing its global tour,” said the cat announcer. “The pearl has been in the Mundabi family for nearly ten generations and is part of a very important tradition.  Whenever the current owner of the pearl passes away, the pearl must make a global voyage to various cities in the world before being handed down to the next heir. The pearl is said to be worth over five-billion dollars in American currency. Mayor Olsen has promised the Mundabi family that the pearl will have only the best security protecting it. Mr.  Mundabi almost rejected the city of Cornea after learning about the botched gold heist that took place last year.  The culprit was none other than Marcus “Big Daddy” Greystone, who is still currently serving time…”

Johnny turned off the TV and sighed heavily. He hated it when the news brought up his dad’s gang. Sure, his dad was a criminal, but he only stole money. He had never broken into homes or stolen personal items, even if the item in question was beyond priceless.

Thinking of his father led Johnny over to the collection of pictures he had sitting on the makeshift shelf in his room. All the pics were of happier times when he still lived in England and before his father had become “Big Daddy Greystone.” Most of all, it was when he still had his mother. His eyes fell upon his favorite photo of her.  Unlike Johnny and his dad, his mother was brown-furred gorillia.  She had a kind face and hazel eyes that always eased Johnny’s heart.  In the photo, she was wearing her favorite pink sweater and was holding Johnny when he was a toddler.  The young ape in the picture wouldn’t look at the camera, but kept his eyes on his mother, who returned the gaze with a beautiful smile on her face.  But what Johnny remembered the most was her voice.  Her passion for singing matched his own.  Every night before bed, he would sit on his father’s lap while she played the piano and sung him a lullaby, her melodious voice lulling him to dreamland. She was the exact opposite of his dad: kind, gentle, soft-spoken. She really brought a sense of balance to their family, until…

Johnny shook away the memory. Don’t think of that now, Johnny thought to himself.  He then looked over at the picture of him and his dad.  He must have only been about three or four and was propped on his dad’s shoulder, smiling and waving to the camera.  His dad had a large smile on his face as he looked up at his son, every bit of him shining with pride.  Next to the photo was the newspaper article of his father getting arrested, complete with mugshot.  It was like they were two different apes.  The news would always see his father as a notorious, heartless criminal who didn’t deserve a second chance.  But to Johnny, he’d always be his dad.  

Johnny picked up a marker and scratched another day off the calendar.  “Almost there, dad.”  Flipping ahead, he saw that there were only six months left before his father’s parole.  The prison visits had been helping him cope with the absence.  It was the first time he and his dad actually sat down and really spoke to each other as father and son and not gang leader and henchman.  Marcus promised Johnny, over and over, that things would be different once he got out.  Johnny believed him, but was still worried.  He knew that having a criminal record meant it’d be difficult to get a job.  Still, he couldn’t afford to give up hope.  

Looking down at his watch, he saw that it was time for him to get cleaned up and head to the theater.  After a quick shower and breakfast, Johnny grabbed his skateboard and locked up the garage.  

#sing movie #sing Ash #Johnny #buster moon #fanfic #sing 2016 #sing 2