#so like whenever my ed jumping up back up for no reason particularly because i got a head cold this week could stop doing that
Note
For the kids prompts, Can you do 45 and Reddie?
Hi Nonnie! Of course, I’m happy to fill 45. Thanks so much for the ask 😊 hope you like it ♥️
45) Kisses exchanged as they move around, hitting the edges of tables or nearly tripping over things on the floor before making it to the sofa, or bed.
Fuck Fight Club and Pretty Woman too
“You wanna fill me in on why you’ve been a grade-A asshole all night, Eddie?”
Richie was pissed. More pissed than Eddie could ever remember him being.
And it was all his fault.
Not that he’d admit it
He took his time hanging up his coat, staring doggedly at it and ignoring Richie’s piercing gaze burning a hole into the side of his head.
“I don’t know what you’re—
“Oh cut the crap, Kaspbrak, you know exactly what I’m talking about,” Richie practically growled, shirking off his jacket, draping it over the couch and throwing his keys onto the coffee table instead of the key holder in the exact way he knew drove Eddie up the wall.
Eddie did in fact know what he was talking about. His sour mood had not gone unnoticed among some of Richie’s associates the entire latter half of the evening. It hung over him like a dark cloud as he grew quiet and withdrawn, excluding when he threw more than a few barbed comments at one of the particularly obnoxious attendees.
But Eddie was never the type to give in this early on in an argument. Well, unless it was against his ex-wife back when they were miserably married and he just gave her her way to avoid having to talk for long periods of time. With his best friend/roommate, though? He only dug his heels in deeper. Always had. Since the day they met in third grade.
“No Richie, I don’t know,” he replied through a clenched jaw, snatching up the keys and depositing them in the little dish by the door, where they were meant to go, “why don’t you enlighten me?”
Richie stormed into the kitchen, wrenching open the fridge door roughly and pulling out a beer, twisting the cap off and angrily guzzling it.
Eddie watched him, a spike of irritation beginning to form under his skin.
Richie’s infuriation was infectious.
“Don’t throw the—”
The words died in Eddie’s throat as he watched Richie fling the bottle cap towards the garbage can like he did most nights, despite nine times out of ten missing the shot by a mile.
The cap bounced off the lid and clinked to the floor.
Eddie saw red.
“Oh for fuck’s sake, Richie! Why do you always—”
“Were you jealous?”
Eddie blinked.
The atmosphere in the room began to shift.
Heat rushed up his neck, to his cheeks as Richie tilted his head, an unreadable expression on his face.
“Why would I be jealous?” Eddie asked, gaze lowered as he bent down to pick up the bottle cap. “You’re entitled to flirt with whoever you want.”
Richie snorted, and even though Eddie couldn’t see his face, he knew he was rolling his eyes.
“I wasn’t flirting with him, Eds. He was flirting with me.”
Eddie’s entire body tensed as he straightened up, shuffling over to the trash can and muttering over his shoulder, “Whatever. It’s not like I’m your boyfriend or something.”
He could feel Richie’s stare piercing into the back of his head as he continued, “We…we’re just best friends who get each other off, Rich. And that…that can change whenever you want.”
A beat of silence met those words.
Eddie refused to turn around.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He couldn’t decipher anything in Richie’s voice, it sounded almost robotic, but a dart of pain shot through Eddie’s chest, right under his scar anyway as he tried to prepare himself for what he had to say next.
“It means…” he began as evenly as he could, moving across the kitchen to get a glass, his back still turned, “if you wanna date, or…or fuck other dudes, or whatever…have at it. We’ll…we’ll stop this…” he waves a hand over his shoulder to where he estimated Richie was standing, “arrangement. No questions asked.”
Because if anything was obvious to Eddie after seeing him flourish tonight, it was that Richie…he deserved more. More than their little arrangement allowed. And Eddie would be damned if he held him back from that for his own selfish reasons.
Another silence followed his words. He had to turn around sometime. He knew that.
He managed to delay it just a little longer by walking over to the sink and turning on the faucet, resting his palms on the counter, hunching his shoulders, making no move to fill his glass. The rush of water almost drowned out Richie’s quiet reply, barely above a whisper.
“Do you wanna stop, Eddie?”
Hell no.
It had all begun three months earlier when Richie accidentally walked in on Eddie ‘punchin’ the upside down clown,’ as Richie so fondly called it. Their eyes had locked, Richie frozen in shock, Eddie in embarrassment. Richie could have hightailed it outta there, they could have brushed it off, marked it down as one of the hazards of being roommates and maybe, after a time, even laughed about it. Instead, Eddie had choked out Richie’s name, his cock still gripped in hand, so impossibly hard as Richie’s eyes began to lower.
They had just watched each other, breaths ragged as Eddie’s hand began to move, slowly at first, then gradually speeding up, pumping his cock hard, over and over and over, a surge of confidence flowing in him that was fuelled by Richie drinking in his every move, until his orgasm started to rake through him, causing him to cry out and begin to come all over his stomach.
That had lit a fire under Richie, he scrambling over to the bed and dropping to his knees, his giant hand covering Eddie’s, squeezing and moving in time with his jerks.
“Shit, fuck—Richie,” Eddie gasped, his voice broken as they pulled the last of orgasm from him together.
“Eds—I—can I…?”
Eddie had nodded, happy to grant him anything, whatever he could possibly want in that moment.
Turned out, what Richie had wanted was his mouth around Eddie’s dick.
Wildly, all Eddie could think as Richie’s head lowered to his lap was how Dick wants my dick.
He almost passed out when the wet heat enveloped him, hissing a little as his over-sensitive nerves tingled.
“R-Richie, oh my god,” he wheezed, his hand reaching up and clawing at his hair, pulling it tightly through his fingers.
Richie groaned, the vibration heading straight to Eddie’s cock and causing his back to arch off the bed.
It was then that Eddie realised three things.
One, the hand currently buried in Richie’s hair was covered in Eddie’s come, it smeared into his locks in a way that should have had Eddie recoiling in disgust, but instead sent a bolt of arousal through him, despite his exhaustion. Two, Richie’s mouth was ridiculously talented—the type of talented that could get a 41 year old man’s refractory period shaved significantly down—holy shit. Eddie may never call him a Trashmouth ever again after this. And three, Richie was rock hard. His erection pressing into Eddie’s side from where he kneeled along the bed.
At that revelation, Eddie’s free hand had wandered almost unbeknownst to himself, out to cup Richie through his pants, causing him to jump in surprise, his mouth pulling off Eddie’s dick with a pop that had him shivering.
They stared at one another, Eddie marvelling at Richie’s plump, crimson-stained lips that had a bead of Eddie’s come gathered in the crease of his mouth.
A beat passed where their eyes met, they on a knife-edge, the precipice of something unknown.
Then Eddie squeezed his hand a little tighter, causing Richie’s breath to hitch.
And the rest…was history.
It became a regular thing, then. Just them…tending to each other whenever they needed it. Quick hand jobs before Richie had to meet with an exec, sloppy blowjobs to celebrate Eddie’s promotion and Richie’s Netflix deal and one very memorable rim-job on the eve of Eddie’s one year ‘death-day.’
They hadn’t talked about it much. But they had unwritten rules.
One — don’t talk about Fight Club. AKA The Arrangement.™ So no spilling the beans to any of the Losers.
Two — don’t talk about Fight Club. Seriously. If the Losers found out they would be un-fucking-bearable and put a screeching halt to the most (and best) sex either of them had had in years. (Maybe ever.)
Three — no kissing. Eddie had deemed that a step over the line. Which, Richie had easily countered with, “Oh, so you can have my tongue in your ass, but not your mouth? Some logic ya got there, Eds.” But Eddie wouldn’t budge. So Pretty Woman rules it was.
And Four — no fourth base, going all the way, the whole enchilada, whatever you wanna call it.
They both agreed that that would definitely be over the line.
And so, with those firm set of rules alá Fight Club and Pretty Woman in play, Eddie and Richie made it work, it somehow slotting almost seamlessly into their daily lives, their friendship and cohabitation hardly changing at all.
Until Eddie’s green-eyed monster reared its ugly head, of course.
Except…that isn’t exactly true, is it? You were compromised from the start, asswipe.
Eddie ignored his inner-voice that sounded irritatingly like a thirteen-year-old Trashmouth as he shoved his glass under the water, letting it fill.
“That Eric guy seemed pretty into you,” he murmured, pivoting from the question as he shut off the faucet, “it would probably be a good idea to uh…call off The Arrangement if you wanted to call that number on your hand.”
He turned, then. Just in time to see Richie blink in surprise.
Yeah. Eddie had seen the exact moment the hot, young blond had reached across and playfully tugged on Richie’s hand, scrawling something onto the palm of it. It didn’t take a genius to know what.
“Eric’s a kid,” Richie snorted as Eddie’s eyes finally met his.
“He’s 29.”
“Exactly. He’s a millennial.”
“Your new fan base is made up of mostly millennials, Richie. And Gen Z’ers,” Eddie rolled his eyes, crossing the kitchen and realising in his haste that he had left his water but was too stubborn to turn back, trudging on towards the living room.
Only to have his way blocked by the garish, tuxedo T-shirt that Richie had insisted on wearing to his press junket despite Beverly desperately pleading with him no to. In compromise, she had designed him a very sexy faux-leather jacket that highlighted the breadth of his shoulders very nicely.
Not that Eddie noticed, or anything.
Liar liar pants on—
He slowly raised his gaze, eyebrows furrowing as he saw an enigmatic expression cross Richie’s face.
“That Ron guy seemed pretty into you.”
Eddie frowned.
“You mean Ross?”
“Whatever,” Richie waved a hand dismissively, his eyes bouncing around the room, “he was flirting up a storm with you at the bar.”
Eddie snorted, “Ross was just being friendly, Richie. He saw that I was on my own when you were—”
“He was flirting with you, Eddie. He couldn’t have been more obvious than if he shoved a rose between his teeth and asked you to tango.”
Eddie’s lips, the traitors, twitched at that. He cleared his throat.
“I’m pretty sure I know when someone is flirting with me, Richie.”
“Really?” Richie scoffed, the pitch of his voice climbing as he threw up his hands in exasperation, “see, I don’t think you do, Eds. Fuck, I’ve been flirting with you since 1986 and look where—”
He cut himself off abruptly, but it was too late.
Eddie watched as Richie froze, his eyes as wide as saucers behind his glasses.
His heart began to race.
“You…what? Rich—”
“Nothing, forget it,” Richie held up his hands in surrender and that’s when Eddie caught it.
The remnants of a dark smudge.
Eric’s phone number.
Or what used to be his number anyway.
Eddie’s own hands shot out before he knew what was happening, both grasping the larger hand and tugging it closer.
“Did you rub it off?”
He kept his gaze carefully trained on Richie’s palm as he heard his breath hitch.
“…maybe.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t wanna get ink poisoning—why the fuck do you think, Eddie?”
His grip tightened around Richie’s fingers as his eyes slowly lifted.
They stared at one another, the silence ringing loud in the kitchen.
“I…” Eddie floundered, desperately wracking his brain for some words to form a coherent sentence.
Don’t get your hopes up, Kaspbrak. You know how that always ends.
Richie must have taken his hesitance for a dismissal however as he heaved a heavy sigh and began pulling out of his grasp.
“Forget it, Eds, I’m tired and a little tipsy. I’m just gonna go to—”
“I was jealous.”
Richie stilled, his eyes darting back to Eddie’s, his hand still firmly in his grip.
“You were?”
Eddie heart hammered against his rib cage so hard he felt it might burst out of his chest Alien-style any second now.
What the fuck are you doing, dickwad?! This is not a part of The Arrange—
“Yeah, Richie, I was. Am. Jealous,” he swallowed the lump in his throat, squeezing Richie’s hand tight as he forced himself to continue. “I—that guy was hot and young and I’m not and—”
Richie closed the space between them, crowding Eddie back against the kitchen counter, bending his knees to catch Eddie’s eye.
“Eddie, trust me when I say this, man. You were the hottest person in that entire bar tonight.”
Eddie let out a loud snort, refusing to meet his stare.
“Yeah righ—”
Fingers clasped his scared cheek, forcing his head up.
His breath stuttered at the sheer sincerity in Richie’s eyes.
“I’m serious, Eds. I could barely take my eyes off you all night. I—all I kept thinking about was getting you home and…” he trailed off, his hand breaking from Eddie’s face to drag down his neck, chest, stomach, to finally rest, feather-light on his belt.
A bolt of arousal shot through Eddie’s abdomen.
Along with his mouth, Richie had very, very talented hands too.
But they were getting off track.
Shaking his head, Eddie forced his foggy, horny brain back online, stepping around Richie and trying to catch his breath. This was important, he couldn’t get sidelined with the promise of sex. He had known that this was a long time coming, pretty much ever since they started in the first place.
All good things must come to an end. Literally and figuratively…
“We need to call it off, Richie.”
He watched as Richie’s shoulders sagged, his entire body deflating like a balloon as he drained the last of his beer and shuffled across to the recycling, avoiding Eddie the entire way.
“Okay, Eds. If that’s what you want. Consider Fight Club disbanded.”
There was that almost robotic voice again. Completely void of emotion. So very hard to read.
“It’s…it’s not what I want,” Eddie found himself admitting before he could think better of it, “but it’s what you need, Rich. What you deserve.”
Richie whirled around suddenly, brow furrowed, eyes shining bright.
“What I deserve ? The fuck does that mean?”
Eddie sighed, not wanting to have to explain himself further but knowing he had to. Shrugging, he ran a hand through his hair, forcing himself to maintain eye-contact.
“You just…you deserve more than my dry hand-jobs and amateur blow-jobs, man. I—I know when we started this it was a way for us to blow off some steam but…you’re out and proud and deserve so much more than our arrangement. So much more than what I…”
He trailed off, eyes lowering.
“I just want what’s best for you, Rich.”
And it’s not me.
“Did it ever occur to you that I might already have what’s best for me?”
Richie didn’t sound robotic, anymore. Now he sounded downright incredulous.
“Uh—”
“No, ‘course it didn’t,” he continued, stepping closer, ducking his head to catch Eddie’s eye, “‘cause instead of asking me, you just went ahead and decided you knew what was best for me. But you’re wrong, Eds. So fucking wrong I—I don’t even know where to begin explain—”
He cut himself off, tilting his head to the ceiling as if asking the heavens for help. Which, for Richie, was really saying something.
Shit.
“Why were you jealous, Eds?”
Richie’s voice was small, now. Resigned. As if fearful of his answer.
“Was it—was it that a hot, young blond was flirting with me and not you?” he asked, tilting his head back down from the ceiling and staring straight into his soul, laser-focussed.
“Or was it that I was flirting with a hot, young blond and not you?”
Eddie’s heart leapt into his throat.
“I thought you weren’t flirting?” he gasped out, biting his bottom lip.
Richie let out an awful, humourless laugh, his eyes shining in a way that had Eddie’s stomach twisting painfully.
“Okay. Okay, Eddie,” he held up his hands again, taking several steps backwards, out towards the living room, “I hear you loud and clear. Say no more,” he paused, sounding more resigned than Eddie had ever heard him, lifting his shoulder in a one-armed shrug, “‘S like you said. We’re just best friends who get each other off. That can change whenever you want. I get it. Good night.”
Eddie watched as he turned on his heel and began walking out of the room.
“I was jealous that he was flirting with you and laughing with you and…fucking touching you when that was all I wanted to do!”
Richie stopped dead in his tracks.
Eddie scrambled forward, his mouth running away from him, “I was so fucking pissed that some hot fucking himbo got to drape himself all over you, without a care in the world as if you were free and single because—”
The rest of his sentence lodged in his throat.
He swallowed, taking a deep breath, staring at the hard line of Richie’s shoulders, his heart samba drumming in his chest.
Well, you’ve come this far, Kaspbrak.
“Because I…I want you. All the time. Not—not just since The Arrangement. Since…shit, since I was a kid. And these last few months have given me just a taste of what life would be like if I could…if I could have you. And I…I hate that it’s just made me realise that I want more. Not just hand jobs and blow jobs here and there. I wanna…I wanna flirt with you in public, and flaunt you on my arm and…and fucking kiss you goodnight and good morning and just because I feel like it. I wanna sleep next to you and fuck you and get a fucking dog with you. I want all of it. All of you.”
A horrible, heavy silence followed his words, marred only by Eddie’s gasping breath as he fought to catch it. His heart sank lower and lower with each passing beat. He couldn’t ever remember a time that Richie had gone this long without making some kind of noise, so he did what any good risk analyst would do. He started mentally making contingency plans for how he could salvage their friendship.
I’ll move out immediately. Leave the group chat for a while. It’ll be awkward, but eventually we might be able to—
“Himbo?”
Eddie gaped as Richie finally turned around, staring wide at him, a small but definite smile on his face.
“W-What?”
Richie’s smile grew bigger.
“You called Eric a himbo. I didn’t think you kept up with today’s slang, Eds,” he tilted his head, apparently amused as he started to close the distance between them.
“Really?” Eddie groused, staring at him, “that’s your response to everything I just said? What the fuck, Rich—”
Lips crashed into his, a large hand clutching his cheek and another squeezing his hip, propelling him backwards, colliding them both into the kitchen counter. Eddie let out a rough ‘Oomph!’ but there was no way in hell he was breaking this kiss. Whose dumb idea was it to enforce Pretty Woman rules anyway? To withhold oneself from a mouth as talented as Richie’s? That was just fucking martyrdom.
The kiss was feverish, desperate as they clung to one another, knocking over various knick-knacks that Richie insisted on keeping on the kitchen counters, Eddie’s tongue tracing along Richie’s bottom lip, his teeth nipping just slightly. He sighed as Richie groaned, opening his mouth and deepening the kiss, his hands raking up and down Eddie’s body as if he couldn’t decide where to rest them. Eddie buried his own hands in Richie’s hair, clutching tightly, using the leverage to do a little pushing of his own, shoving him back against the kitchen table.
Richie let himself be manhandled, stumbling backwards, almost tripping over his own feet if Eddie didn’t have a firm grip on him. The back of his legs bumped up against the table with a soft thump. Eddie’s grip left Richie’s hair to fly to his waist, tightening as he urged him up. Richie took a second to get with the program, too preoccupied with sucking on Eddie’s tongue to do much else. But eventually, he scattered the place-mats and newspaper and stress-ball from off the table and he heaved himself up, arms reaching down to clasp the back of Eddie’s legs, lifting him up with him until he was kneeling, knees either side of his hips.
The kiss broke.
Their eyes met.
Eddie’s heart skipped a beat when he saw moisture gathered behind Richie’s glasses as he stared at Eddie like he was the greatest gift he’d ever received.
“I’m in love with you, by the way,” Richie murmured, quietly but firmly, as if they were words he had long since lived with, “have been since I was twelve years old. In case that wasn’t clear.”
A little line formed between his eyebrows as he cleared his throat, “It’s—it’s okay, though. You don’t have to say it back or anything, I know it’s a lot and—”
“I’m in love with you too, dickwad. In case that wasn’t clear.”
They stared at one another, twin smiles gracing their faces before Richie leaned forward, capturing his lips once more.
This kiss was softer, slower, but god…
Eddie could feel thirty years of emotion flowing between them, as if Richie was pouring every ounce of pining, yearning, ache and love that he had ever felt for Eddie into it.
The burn of tears welled up behind his eyes as Richie’s hands clasped his cheeks, his thumb gently tracing his scar. They eventually had to break for air, but didn’t go far, their lips barely an inch apart as they heaved in breaths, until Eddie leaned forward again, pecking the tiniest of kisses against Richie’s mouth.
Fuck Fight Club and Pretty Woman rules.
Richie leaned up, returning the kiss that was more the pressing of smiles but still had Eddie’s stomach flipping with butterflies.
“God, Eds. I’ve wanted to kiss you practically my whole life.”
Eddie hummed, raking a hand through his hair and straightening his slightly askew glasses.
“I’m sorry I made you wait so long,” he sighed, resting their foreheads together, “I just…I just knew that kissing you would be too much. Would make me wish too much and hope too much and—”
“Me too,” Richie nodded, bumping their heads gently, practically going cross-eyed as he fought to keep eye contact, “you were right. I wouldn’t have coped with kissing you without constantly wanting more and hating myself for it. Even though I did anyway. Always have,” he laughed a little self-deprecatingly, “but ya know, I’m used to that.”
Eddie’s heart panged.
“Fucking Derry.”
“Fucking Derry,” Richie agreed.
“Dumb Eddie.”
“No,” Richie shook his head, leaning back to properly look at Eddie, “not dumb at all, Eds. We—that shithole fucked both of us up, right? All seven of us. So, don’t feel dumb about not picking up on my giant heartboner for you back in the day, alright? I…I did everything in my power to hide it ‘cause I was scared shitless. Homophobic clowns and Bowers, you know? And now…now we’re so fucking repressed I still marvel we managed to con ourselves into The Arrangement in the first place.”
Eddie snorted, silently agreeing until that snort turned into a groan, this one of discomfort as his knees gave a painful twinge.
“We’re too old to fool around on the kitchen table, Rich…” he breathed, his breath bouncing off Richie’s mouth, “my knees are fucking killing me.”
Richie huffed out a laugh, squeezing his hips and nudging him back down to the ground and shuffling to stand up himself.
“Fuck!” He hissed as his thigh roughly collided with the leg of one of the chairs, knocking it over with a clatter.
“As graceful as ever, Rich,” Eddie teased, reaching down to gently rub his palm along the back of Richie’s thigh, a small smirk spreading across his face.
“If you take me to bed, I can kiss it better. And other places too.”
Richie Tozier had never moved so fast in his entire life. And that included the time he was chased by a murderous space clown.
They collectively collided with no less than four pieces of furniture, one novelty-sized pencil that Richie insisted on keeping in the hallway, and tripped over a copy of Bill’s new book before they made it to bed. But that just meant there was more to kiss better.
They were allowed to do that, now. Kiss and so much more.
And all because they stopped living their lives using the ‘logic’ of two dumb ‘90s movies.
Read my other friends-with-benefits Reddie fic here
@tinyarmedtrex @reddiegays @richietoaster @and-thats-when-she-snapped
#reddie#richie tozier#eddie kaspbrak#friends with benefits fic#they’re way too in love to make it work though#my fanfiction#hope nonnie enjoys
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“I read your diary.”
Prompt inspired by one line of dialogue.
Read on AO3
Eddie reads a diary he believes to be Richie's and is pretty sure he just admitted to being in love with him.
3k+ words. Oneshot
That day at lunch, when Richie had announced that his parents would be out that evening, it was decided they would have a little Losers get together at his house. At least once a week they gathered at one of their houses for a game night or to view a movie or TV show they all wanted to watch. All seven of them squished on a couch, under blankets and just enjoying being with one another. Not having any parents around to yell at them when they got too loud was always a bonus.
Upon entering the Tozier home, they kicked off their shoes before going up to Richie’s room to peruse his collection of movies, ditching their backpacks by his bed. The only downside to being at Richie’s, for Stan and Eddie at least, was that most of his movies were of the horror genre and neither particularly liked them. There was a good chance Eddie would end up staying over at Richie’s so that his mom didn’t find out he’d watched something scary in case he woke up with nightmares.
Eddie sat on Richie’s bed while the rest looked, knowing that nothing he said about their choice of movie really mattered. Either way he’d be traumatized for the next week. He looked at the movie posters on his walls and the scattering of polaroids of the seven of them he’d taped up haphazardly. They’d spent so many years together and with their senior year coming to an end, Eddie couldn’t help the feelings of anxiety that gripped him whenever he thought about going their separate ways. Stan had asked once if they’d still be friends when they were older, and Eddie thought about that a lot now. He hoped so. He didn’t want to lose any of them, but they couldn’t be sure what would happen until they lived it.
“Eds, we picked a movie, let’s go.” Richie said with a grin that made Eddie fall in love all over again.
He looked to the door to see all of his friends were already leaving the room. When he stood to follow, he bumped their bags and knocked a few of them over, spilling the contents. He cursed under his breath and knelt down to pick up the things that had spilled while also mentally berating his friends for leaving their bags unzipped. Stuffing a textbook back into Bill’s bag, he went to stand only to stop when something under Richie’s bed caught his eye. Amongst the clutter that littered the floor beneath his bed was a blue notebook with a sticker of the hear, speak and see no evil monkeys on it.
Eddie glanced at the door to see he was alone, his friend’s voices carrying up the stairs. Reaching for the notebook, he felt like he was doing something he wasn’t supposed to. Sure, it crossed his mind that it could have just fallen from one of their backpacks when they fell, but it was far under the bed, partially covered by a sweatshirt. Given the number of things under his bed, there was a chance it had just been dropped and forgotten. Still, Eddie couldn’t stop thinking that it had been hidden there on purpose. Listening carefully for any of his friends coming back up the stairs, he cracked the notebook open and read at the very top “Dear diary”.
He let the cover fall from his fingers and close. There was no denying it then. Richie kept a diary, and this was it. Eddie knew he shouldn’t read it, but he was so, so curious. Richie was the last person he expected to keep a diary and he had to know what kind of things he wrote about. He’d honestly been expecting it to be filled with jokes he’d thought up.
Maybe it was because Eddie had been secretly in love with Richie for years, or maybe it was just curiosity getting the better of him, but he opened the notebook to the last entry and began to read.
“Dear diary, I’m in love with my best friend.”
Eddie inhaled sharply and read that first line over and over again. Who did Richie consider his best friend? Sure, Eddie wanted to say it was him, but there were six of them to choose from. He could mean any one of the Losers. He had to know, so he kept going.
“He was cute again today.” That ruled out Beverly.
“Everything about him is cute. He’s shorter than me, not by a lot, but enough to be adorable.” Richie and Bill were the tallest of the group, with Bill standing an inch taller, so that ruled him out too.
“At lunch there was a spider on the table, and he freaked out. It was so cute I couldn’t stop looking at him.” Eddie, Stan and Ben had all three been afraid of the spider, and Mike had been the one to kill it. So, not Mike either.
“His locker is by mine and I just stand there and stare at him when he gets his books. I don’t think he’s noticed.” Stan’s locker was in a separate hallway, down by Bill’s. Both Eddie and Ben had lockers near Richie’s.
“His locker is so organized and clean and precise, not at all like mine. I’m probably too messy for him.” Ben’s locker wasn’t a mess, but it was usually cluttered, and he often dropped things while trying to pull out books. Eddie’s on the other hand…
Eddie closed the notebook, unable to read anymore. He’d read enough to confirm that it was him that Richie was writing about. Richie was in love with him and Eddie didn’t know how to proceed. Did he tell him that he knew? Did he confess his own feelings and hope that he wouldn’t deny that he loved him too? Not in a million years did Eddie expect this. Richie was always talking about the girls in their classes that he liked and making vulgar jokes about them. Maybe he liked boys and girls. Or girls and Eddie.
“Eds! Are you coming?” Richie’s voice came from the stairs, causing Eddie to jump and throw the book back under his bed.
“Yea…I’m coming!” He shouted back.
Eddie stood and placed his hand to his chest, trying to calm himself down. He had to go downstairs, squish on the couch next to Richie and pretend like he didn’t know they were both in love with each other. Easy, right?
*
Occasionally Eddie was brave, but when it came to matters of the heart, he was a coward. He’d chosen not to stay at Richie’s that night, too afraid to have that conversation with him about what he’d read. Too scared to admit that he’d read what he wasn’t meant to. Instead, he let it torture him over the weekend, the words playing in his mind repeatedly. Every dream he had was about Richie, he invaded his every thought, causing his stomach to churn with a mix of butterflies and anxiety.
When Monday came and he could no longer avoid facing him, he thought he might actually become sick. He’d met his friends like he did every morning. He was the last one to pull up the bike rack, locking his bike up and avoiding eye contact. His first two classes of the morning he was alone, but by third hour he was with Richie again, sitting side by side and pretending like he wasn’t on edge. Apparently, he wasn’t doing a very good job of it as Richie noticed and stopped him after class when he tried to speed off.
“Eds, what’s going on with you?” He asked, pulling him to the side of the hallway by some lockers.
“Nothing.” Eddie answered too quickly.
“You’ve barely spoken all day and won’t look at me. Did I do something?”
The look on Richie’s face was worried and it made Eddie feel bad for making him make that face. He didn’t like a sad Richie. He liked when he was smiling and cracking lame jokes that made him laugh. It was his fault he was looking like that and he couldn’t keep it in any longer. Had to let him know what he’d seen and admit that he’d done something wrong. Betrayed his trust. Hopefully he wouldn’t be too upset when he told him he felt the same.
“I…read your diary.” Eddie lowered his voice, leaning in a bit so only Richie could hear.
“You did what now?” Richie cracked a confused smile as his eyebrows knit together.
“I’m sorry. I know it was wrong. I found it in your room and I only read one page, but it was where you were talking about your crush. Richie…I know…”
“You know what?” Richie was full on grinning now and it made Eddie nervous for some reason.
“I know who you like!” He said in a harsh whisper, darting his eyes around the hall to see if anyone was listening.
“How could you, Eds? That’s such an invasion of privacy.”
“I know. I’m really sorry, but I think we need to talk about what I read…”
“What did you read?”
“That you like m-.”
“Richie!” Eddie’s words were drowned out by Bill, who was rushing toward them.
“What’s up, Billy?” Richie asked, his eyes lingering on Eddie’s red face a moment longer before turning to their friend.
“I think I left s-something at your house last week. Can I come by after school to look for it?”
“Yea. What did you lose?”
“It’s my…um…noteb-book.” Bill said, his face flushing slightly.
“What’s it look like?”
“B-b-blue, with a monkey sticker on the f-front.”
Eddie felt like time slowed down around him as he came to a very abrupt realization. It was Bill’s dairy he’d read. He was talking about Stan. Stan was shorter than him, Stan had freaked out about the spider, Stan’s locker was by his, Stan was just as organized as Eddie was, if not more. He felt his cheeks heat up and felt like he’d been punched in the stomach. Just a minute ago, he’d been about to confess his feelings because he thought Richie felt the same. Now he felt sick and so, so stupid. God, he was so stupid! Of course, Richie didn’t keep a diary. He didn’t love Eddie.
“You ok, E-Eddie?” Bill asked.
When he focused on them again, they were both staring at him. His eyes met Richie’s and his fight or flight instinct kicked in. He chose the latter. Turning on his heel, he took off down the hall. He heard both boys yelling after him, but their voices only pushed him to run faster. He pushed through the doors that lead out to the fields where he made a beeline for one of the dugouts. They were well hidden and wouldn’t be in use this time of day. Sometimes other students made out there or smoked there, but usually not so early in the morning. He sat on one of the benches, dropping his bag by his feet, and put his head in his hands.
If Bill had interrupted them even a second later, Eddie would be in a much worse spot. At least this way he didn’t have to deal with rejection and messing up their friendship. He’d think of an excuse for why he’d ran away, think of what he was going to say to make up for the misunderstanding. For now, he was going to wallow and deal with his self-loathing in peace. Part of him wondered if he should call his mom, tell her he wasn’t feeling well so he could go hide out at home for the rest of the day. As it was, she was probably going to get a call that he had missed his fourth class of the day. He didn’t really care about that at the moment though. Her lecture would be a welcome distraction from the noise in his head.
Eddie heard the footsteps approaching and tried to make himself small so he wouldn’t be seen. There was a chance it was someone looking to use the dugout for some debauchery, but they could use the other one. This one was occupied, and he wasn’t leaving. It could also have been a teacher doing a scan for students breaking rules because of course they new what they were used for. What Eddie hadn’t been expecting was for the person to jump down and sit beside him on the bench.
He tilted his head to the side and looked up to see Richie sitting there, leaning back slightly on his hands and looking up and out at the sky. Eddie’s stomach sank as he kicked himself for not just going home where Richie wouldn’t be able to find him so easily. He dropped his hands from his face but stayed hunched over, his elbows on his knees.
“You ok?” Richie asked, still not looking at him.
Eddie nodded. It didn’t matter that it was a lie. He didn’t want to talk about what was going on in his head. Especially not with Richie.
“What happened back there?”
“Nothing. I made a mistake. Sorry.” Eddie pushed up off the bench and stood, but before he could walk away, Richie grabbed him by his wrist.
“You said you read my diary.”
“Yea. It was Bill’s. I know that now. Like I said, I made a mistake.”
“So, you aren’t upset anymore?”
“I wasn’t upset in the first place.”
“You can’t lie to me, Eds. You looked like you were about to cry. So, who did you think I liked that was so terrible and isn’t now that it’s Bill who has a crush?”
“I can’t tell you that. It would be betraying Bill.”
Richie huffed out a laugh and tugged lightly on Eddie’s wrist, willing him to sit back down. Eddie complied but kept a distance between them, gently twisting his wrist out of his grip. They were quiet for a moment and Eddie wondered why he wanted him to stay if he wasn’t going to speak. He still wanted to be alone, to be very far away from Richie. He could practically feel the heat radiating off the other boy and he was too hyper aware of every small move he made next to him.
“It’s Stan, right?” Richie finally said, startling Eddie out of his thoughts.
“What?”
“Bill’s crush. It’s on Stan.”
“Yea.” Eddie said, because obviously they all knew.
“So, you thought I liked Stan?” Richie grinned.
“Yea.”
“And it’s a bad thing if I do?”
Eddie’s throat went dry and he thought about bolting again. He didn’t want to hear Richie say he had a crush on anyone else. Especially not another boy, especially not their friend. It would kill him, and he definitely could not handle it.
“No…” His voice came out in the whisper.
“Well, I don’t.”
Eddie closed his eyes and let out a silent breath of relief, thanking whoever was listening.
“Eddie.” There was something in Richie’s voice that made all the hairs on Eddie’s arms stand on end. A softness when he said his name that was so laced with caring it made him want to cry. How could he not love this stupid mother fucker?
“Eddie. Look at me.” He said when he got no response.
“We have to get to class.” Eddie said, ignoring him and reaching for his bag.
“I love you.” Richie said as Eddie stood again, stopping him in his tracks.
Eddie opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. Seconds turned to minutes, Eddie standing with his back to Richie, not responding to his confession. He screamed at himself inside his head, tried to will himself to move, to say anything instead of leaving Richie to sit there agonizing over what Eddie might be thinking. It wasn’t until he heard Richie move to stand up, that he finally snapped out of it and turned to face him. The frown on Richie’s face was enough to knock the wind from his lungs and make his heart hurt for him.
“Richie…” Eddie managed to say.
“Sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.” Richie said. “Just forget it.”
“No. No, I can’t. Richie…” The tears began to fall before Eddie could stop them. It was too overwhelming, too many thoughts racing through his head all at once. “Richie, I love you.”
His hands gripped the front of Richie’s shirt, his knuckles turning white against the fabric. Richie’s raised his hands to softly hold Eddie’s face between them. His expression was unreadable as his eyes searched Eddie’s face.
“You know I don’t mean as a friend, right?” Richie asked.
Eddie nodded, afraid to try to speak as the tears wouldn’t stop. He loved him so much. So much that it hurt sometimes. He was all he wanted, all he thought about. Knowing he felt the same was too much. Richie’s thumbs swiped at the tears that trailed down his cheeks as he continued to stare at him for a long moment. It made Eddie nervous but the look in Richie’s eyes was enough to push those feelings away. A look like he was gazing upon something so precious.
Richie leaned down and kissed him on his forehead before pressing his own against it. Letting his eyes drift close, Eddie let himself enjoy the moment of closeness with the person he loved. Let himself get lost in the feel of his hands on his face, the way he could feel his chest rise and fall beneath his hands as their breath mixed together between them. This, Eddie thought, was a little taste of what heaven must be like.
“You really love me?” Richie asked.
“Yes.” Eddie said without hesitation. “Only you.”
“Can I kiss you?”
Eddie nodded and a second later, their lips were pressed together causing his breath to catch. He released Richie’s shirt with one hand and trailed it up to rest against his neck. Richie brushed his fingers against Eddie’s cheek as he let go to grab Eddie’s other hand with his, lacing their fingers together. In this moment everything was perfect, and they felt indestructible. Together.
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Possession
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Summary: A spirit takes control of Max’s mind and body for the day, and does something a little peculiar to distract Isaac when he gets too close to figuring it all out. Now, the two-- or, more accurately-- Isaac, deal(s) with the aftermath. After all, Max still remembers everything that happened, so why won’t he talk to Isaac about that... thing?
So, he guessed they weren’t gonna talk about it.
They weren’t going to discuss the paranatural elephant in the room, or in this case, whatever Max was feeling about the situation, let alone how he felt.
It wasn’t like they hadn’t run into spirits that took over bodies before-- Hijack being one particularly memorable example-- it just usually didn’t take them so long to figure it out. Puppett (Puh-Pett, not puppet) had done an excellent job of masquerading as Max the whole day, made a few good snarky remarks here and there and pulled enough backflips out of awkward situations to genuinely fool Isabel and Ed and even Mister Spender... even Isaac.
He coughed into his hand, cheeks turning red as he glanced away.
That had all been earlier in the day, around noon and earlier, and Isaac had to say-- the affects of Puppett still hadn’t entirely worn off... on him.
He had never been possessed by her.
Max, on the other hand, seemed just fine for being the sock on a spirit’s conniving hand, and everyone else-- but Isaac-- seemed happy about that.
“Is there a reason you won’t stop looking at me?”
“Wh-what? I-I’m not--!” Isaac twisted his head his the other direction, avoiding the heated, annoyed gaze Max sent in his direction. “Sh-shut up!” He said he remembered everything. He said that he was well aware of everything Puppett did with him under her control, and the sheer fact that he wasn’t fumbling over himself in Isaac’s company after what Puppett did, the fact that he was acting like things were perfectly normal between them, well...
That had to mean it was all Puppett.
If he had to guess, he would have thought her powers revolved around distant manipulation and astute observation, what with the way she clearly read him like she did.
Towards the end of third period, he’d started catching onto her, started seeing the magenta in Max’s blue eyes-- and he’d looked into his eyes well enough to know there was never any trace of magenta. He bit down a whine, internally cringing at his own overdramatic, romantic behavior. He’d stared a little too long at him on their way passed each other to fourth period; that had to have been what clued her into him being clued into her-- because it was at lunch time that she tried to distract him the only way she possibly could without attracting too much attention.
And Max acted like it never happened.
Isaac blew out of his nose sharply, digging his hands into his pockets, consciously falling a few steps behind Max, who seemed just as oblivious to his disappointment as he did earlier that day. Whatever, Fine. It didn’t happen. It didn’t count. He was stupid for hoping for anything else.
He raised one hand to his lips, tips of his fingers brushing against the skin, against the place he could still feel Max’s lips. He remembered the pressure, the way Max’s hand felt against the nook of his neck, the way they melded together, and how gently he’d been handled, like Max had been cautious in the act, and brave in the venture. He’d tasted like potato chips and off-brand soda, and even when he’d gone to pull away, Max followed him with another kiss, and another.
But that hadn’t been Max.
Isaac grimaced, squeezing his eyes shut as he raised his sleeve to his mouth and scrubbed the surface clean-- red, swollen, skinned, and clean.
Max glanced back at him over his shoulder, one eyebrow raised, lips quirking in that way they always did when he was trying to keep himself from dropping to his knees in hysterical laughter. “Um, what are you doing?”
“Nothing.”
“Sure looks like something.”
Isaac couldn’t be mad at him, he guessed. Max had no reason to go “Hey! Remember that I kissed you today? Except it wasn’t me and I was under an evil, world-dominating spirit’s control? Yeah! This isn’t awkward!” It would, in all honesty, only serve to embarrass both of them. Why would he bring it up? Ya know, unless he wanted to clarify that he did actually like him like that... which apparently he didn’t. He sighed and shrugged, trying his best to be nonchalant. “Just... trying to get a bad taste out of my mouth.”
Max halted for a moment, eyes wide, lips in a thin line. Isaac turned around, pausing to let Max catch up with him, whenever that would be. “Umm?”
Max said nothing, just watched him with the same, insulted expression. He didn’t even move, and for a moment, Isaac had to look around and be sure he hadn’t walked into a spiritual cobweb or something of the sort. Was there something on the edge of attack? He glanced around-- no, nothing. “Max?”
He seemed to blink, and shake himself out of his train of thought, grimace still etching wider, more prominently, across his face. “I-I’m fine. Just” he started walking again, eventually catching up, then passing Isaac. “Just had to take a moment to consider something... Hey Isaac?”
“Yeah?”
“Are you mad about what happened earlier or...?” He felt his face burn again, and he glanced away. Max sighed beside him. “... I thought so. Isaac, look--”
Before he knew what he was doing, he’d raised both hands up in defense, one corner of his skinned lips twitching. “It’s cool! I know! You were under Puppett’s control! It’s cool! We’re cool! Everything’s cool!”
Max watched him with the face he used to deliver his annoyingly deadpan jokes, eye unblinking, lips in a straight line. “Isaac.”
“Hey! It’s about time to wrap up afternoon patrol, don’t you think?” He twisted on his heel, miming shotguns in the direction of the clubroom. “Let’s mark this conversation down as settled, shall we?”
“Would you just--!” Max reached out and gripped him by the shoulders, and usually that might have stopped him in his tracks, but the earlier memory, the familiar pull of Max’s hand tugging him closer, made him fight-- made him pull away because he couldn’t stand to be that breath-takingly close to his face again. “Stop! Hey!”
“Let! Go!”
“Just listen to me for a-- Isaac!”
He froze, eyes falling to the floor because Max was just too, too much to look at right then. Max didn’t move, didn’t take a single chance that he’d go off running, and he was right not to, because getting away was the only thing on his mind right then. “Would you just sit still and have a conversation with me like a normal flipping person?”
“Sorry...”
“Look,” Max’s hands loosened at his shoulders, but moving wasn’t a risk he dare take. “I wasn’t in control of--”
“--your body, I know--”
“--Isaac, just let me finish--”
“-- I get it, okay? You don’t have to explain--”
Max’s hands tightened around his shoulders.
“-- Isaac, I’m trying to tell you--”
“-- anything to me! I know you would never--”
“-- OH FOR FLIP SAKE!”
Isaac jumped when Max kissed him again, body gravitating closer almost naturally as their lips melded for the second-- maybe third or fourth-- time that day. His eyes were wide, but Max’s were shut tight, brows furrowed, nose pressing into his uncomfortably as he grew even closer. It was less tender than the other kiss, and messier, but it was a kiss nevertheless, and Isaac melted in his hands.
Almost literally.
Blood rushed from his legs to his cheeks, leaving them pink and glowing as his knees buckled; he fell forward into Max, tips of his shoes turning inwards and brushing together and he lost control of his feet. His eyes didn’t quite close, but they were around halfway there by the time Max was pulling away. Much to his surprise, Max held him there, kept him upright, probably because he could tell he’d fall to the floor in a mess of feelings if he let him.
Max’s cheeks were red versus his pink, eyes wide, challenging him.
And then he realized he was waiting for him to say something.
Isaac popped up straight, hands pressing and pushing back against Max’s chest as he struggled to straighten himself out, but Max kept him close with a firm hand, eyes narrowing. He was shorter, dang it! He shouldn’t have been so intimidating! “I-I- wha--?”
Max’s eyes fell lidded, nose scrunching. “Really? That’s all you have to say?”
“Y-you kissed me!”
“Yeah! And it was really me this time!” Max paused, face turning an even darker shade of red, closer to crimson than blood. Both of them, at this point, were red, gushing, messes of emotion, bordering on explosion as the silent seconds ticked by in what felt like excruciating minutes.
Isaac stuffed his face in his hands, chin to ears burning red hot and tingly. He felt like somebody hot turned the heater on in the middle of summer in a house he couldn’t leave. “I-- bu-- guh-- why?”
Max’s snark face was back, and Isaac had never wanted to punch a deadpan expression before so much in his entire thirteen-year life. “I’ll give you three guesses.”
“I mea-- I mean I know why, I- I just don’t--!”
“Guess I broke the Isaac machine.”
“Max.”
“I’ll have to take my money elsewhere.”
“Max!”
“Seriously though, dude, you get it, right? I don’t have to say it?” Isaac nodded with no words because he couldn’t think of any good ones and his entire body felt like it was short-circuiting, and Max nodded right back. “Cool.”
Cool, indeed. Mister Spender called them back to the classroom soon after, signaling the end of the school day at long, painful last. Neither Isaac nor Max brought up Puppett again after that, but one wouldn’t say it was like it never happened. Isaac, for his part, was less angry a lot of the time, smiled more, even if it was just at Max. Max, who afterwards had taken to backhandedly flirting at off moments, side comments like “My eyes are here, but that poltergeist’s eyes are up there, Ginger Sprinkles” and, one time after Isaac caught him mid-fatal-fall with a storm cloud: “Really swept me off my feet this time, huh?”
They still snarked at each other (uh... Max still did most of that), and threw punches (Isaac was guilty of this one, though he felt guilty when the electricity his body naturally conjured what was meant to be a playful tap to the arm a more “shocking” punt across the schoolyard). Puppett was a memory, not exactly bittersweet but neither good nor bad. Isaac, somewhere along the way, had come to the conclusion that what they had was obvious, that Puppett had merely manipulated a variable that he and Max should have already acknowledged; Max, despite never speaking a word of it, seemed to have known that before Isaac had. There hadn’t been another kiss, but there had been wordless touches to shoulders and conversations they could leave unspoken if they just looked at each other.
He wasn’t sure what they were, if they were boyfriends or friends or just more-than-friends, but what was more than clear was this: Max belonged to Isaac; Isaac belonged to Max. What everybody had known long before Isaac did had become a simple truth. He was his, and the labels didn’t really mean anything-- at least they didn’t have to yet.
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9x11: Details Part 2 + My Wacky Carzekiel Theory
Okay, welcome to Details, part 2. I’ll mostly talk about Carol and Ezekiel stuff in this post, but trust me there are a lot of Beth ties. For I’ll talk about the details I saw in the episode. Then I’m gonna throw out kind of wacky theory I’ve had swirling around my head lately. Let's get started.
So Ezekiel and the Kingdom go on an elk hunt. Obviously, the deer reference is important because of the Deer Theory.
I noticed that when he's first talking to Diane, she says there's about 100 elk in the herd. That stuck out to me because 100 is a number we've heard before. I don't think we've heard it for a while, but I concluded some time ago that it represented the path home to TF. So, one hundred elk is kind of interesting. Diane says that there are 200 walkers coming in. They have about six hours to get to the elk before the walkers do. Both the elk and the walkers were headed to a place called Falls Church. I don't know if Falls Church is important, but they give the name, so I figured it was worth noting.
We don't see the hunt but we do see that they get some elk. Now, having dead deer in the shot suggests someone getting hurt but surviving (Deer Theory). It could be Beth, but I have a theory about what else this might be about. I'll come back to it.
It also occurred to me that this is the second time Carol has been heavily associated with deer. Back in in S4, she was associated with them because of Lizzie and Mica. But also remember that she told Tyreese's Ed’s stupid hunting joke. The one about beer nuts vs. deer nuts. The punchline was, "deer nuts are just under a buck." So, she was specifically associated with large, male deer (bucks) in that episode. I suppose seeing the big antlers just made me think of that.
I never realized it before, but there weren't any bucks around Lizzie and Mica. The deer she tried to get Mica to shoot, which is standing there after she shoots Lizzie, is either a baby deer or small female.
It would make sense for it to be a baby, since Lizzie and Mica were children. So again, just pointing out that Carol has been associated with this before, and I think that's important. Again, I’ll come back to them.
Let's have a comedy appreciation moment for Zeke and Jerry in this episode. Zeke tries to trick Carol out of going to the theater. Guy has no poker face. And of course there was Jerry. Between his goofy grin and his lip-synching, he kept me very entertained this episode. 😉
They’re after a projector bulb, which is a light bulb. It occurred to me it's it really is a type of lamp. Often the bulbs in projectors are referred to as lamps. So, we can connect this to the Lamp Theory.
They also say the phrase “cobra strike” over and over again. Snake reference, which we always relate back to Still.
Ezekiel also talks about “bringing cinema back from the dead." Sounds like a resurrection reference to me.
The movie theater reminded me very much of the Big Spot. There was the lighting, of course, but we see that lighting in many places. Just the dim interior with the much brighter exterior. Still, any place to go with those lighting reminds me of Grady and I relate it back to Beth.
Diane mentions a whole bunch of tubs of butter-flavored coconut oil. That stuck out as odd to me because it was unnecessary. Yeah, maybe you'd find something like that in a movie theater, but it wasn't like they needed that detail to establish this is a movie theater. She’s very specific about what it was, heavily drawing attention to it.
Besides, in my experience, butter flavored coconut oil is not what’s a general used in movie theaters. They used a synthetic form of butter for the popcorn to be sure, but coconut oil is actually an expensive product. A movie theater probably wouldn't have it stockpiled. So, I’m not even sure this is particularly accurate. Maybe some theaters do it, and it’s possible, but most wouldn’t. They’d want to be more cost effective than that.
I looked up symbolism for it, and I don't see any symbolism specifically for coconut oil, just for coconuts. But I figure it's all the same since the oil comes from the coconuts. Coconuts have symbolism in many different cultures and places, but it almost always represents healing and regeneration. So again, this could be a Beth/resurrection thing, but also might just point to the fair and how they're hoping it will heal the communities.
Okay, let's get to the good stuff.
We see a walker with three deep gouges in its head. Jerry kills it. He does so by sticking his sword upward through its chin and face.
That really jumped out at me because at the Big Spot, Sasha killed a walker in exactly the same way.
The only reason I remember that is because Sonequa really liked that kill. She said it was the coolest kill Sasha had ever had, and she really enjoyed doing it. So, when I saw Jerry doing that, I knew they were paralleling this with the Big Spot.
And why do that? Again, I’ll go into it with my theory, but if nothing else, it’s yet another callback to S4 among many this season, and there must be a reason for it. The Big Spot was in 4x01, after all, which also includes the Bethyl hug and was the beginning of Beth’s arc.
There's a huge wheel on the popcorn cart.
It just caught my attention because we see wheels a lot on bikes and such. Whenever I see a big wheel like that, the thing it reminds me most of is this wheel that we saw in 6x02, when the wolves showed up. Just saying.
We later find out scratches on the head of the walker Jerry killed came from crawling underneath the popcorn cart. In a very disgusting sequence, we see another walker do it. It took me a couple of times of looking at it to realize there's a pitchfork sticking down through the popcorn cart.
So, it's not the cart itself they’re being cut on. It's the pitchfork that's leaving with three gouges in the four head.
We're not sure what the pitchfork represents, but it's important to note that we do see a pitchfork in the opening credits, now that they’ve changed this season.
It's probably an important symbol. The biggest thing is that it can represent farming and that always leads us back to Herschel's ranch. It can also represent the devil, or a mob mentality (think walkers in general).
More importantly, we see a light-haired walker crawl under the popcorn cart. It looks female, with long, light hair, so sort of like one of the blond, Beth walkers. In a thoroughly disgusting sequence, it not only gets the gouges we saw in the earlier walker, it actually loses the top of its head.
That’s really interesting because the part of its head that it losses is the very tip top, the crown. In other words, right where Beth was shot.
So I was thinking that the pitch fork representing something negative (the devil, evil, mob mentality, etc.) could work as well because S5, when Beth disappeared is the bad stuff, and we think she disappeared in a horde of walkers. Just really interesting the way they do this symbolism.
I had to laugh when Jerry took the bulb out, talking about how he had to be careful. He actually used the line, "this is going to be surgery." What you mean, Jerry? Surgery like…Grady? Like Dr. Edwards? Like Beth is coming back? Like you know she's gonna be here soon? 😆😉
Okay, next one’s huge. When Zeke gets his poster box and Carol goes to help them, I noticed a poster hanging on the wall in the background. It's very difficult to see because it's washed out. I did my best to mess with the lighting so that it's easier to see what's on the poster.
I’m fairly sure there's a woman getting piggyback from a man. We don't see the full-body picture of it, but if you look at the white streak on the left side, that's her arm and it looks like she's slightly above him and has her arms wrapped around him from behind.
I was still a little unsure about what I was seeing when I noticed that Carol said something interesting to Ezekiel. She says, "You were serious before..." Yeah, guys, this is the representation of a “serious” piggyback.
Now, the interesting thing is that we've seen this before with Carol. Back in S7, she read the book that had the piggyback on the cover.
This is super interesting to me because it proves that this wasn't just about her meeting Ezekiel. Back then, I don't know if anyone did, but people could theoretically have argued that maybe it just showed that she was going to meet her soulmate, just as Beth and Daryl were soulmates. If that's all it meant, then we couldn't really point to it in a way that suggested Beth was returning.
Now, none of us serious (Sirius) TDers actually bought into that argument. Because it's a serious (Sirius) piggyback and Sirius is the dog star that always returns, we knew there was more to it. This proves that it couldn't have just been about Carol meeting Ezekiel because at this point (in S9) they’re already together. It's unnecessary to show the symbol again. So why is it showing it? Again, bear with me. I have a theory.
The other interesting thing to me, as far as the plot of the show goes, was that Carol suggested asking Hilltop to take them in if things got worse.
I know about you guys, but I didn't realize things were that bad the Kingdom. We saw that things were kind of falling apart in 9x06 when Jerry and Henry were trying to tape up a water pipe, but it sounds like their home is really falling apart and they are going to need to find a new place to live. Not sure what that's leading to, but it's interesting.
One of the Kingdom guys comes in to tell Ezekiel the boombox has died. Really? As in the music just died?
And then when Jerry drops the light, he dropped down some sort of chute. We don't get a very clear view of it, but it reminded us a lot of the elevator shaft at Grady.
And remember, if Beth is the lamp, we had it being dropped down an elevator-shaft-like chute, just as Beth went down the elevator shaft, and then one of the Kingdomers comes to tell Zeke the music has died. Just saying.
At one point, Ezekiel suggests, "maybe were done losing for a while."
*Shakes head* Zeke, Zeke. Haven't you learned yet? You on TWD. You’re never done losing stuff.
Okay I think that's all the stuff that I noticed.
Now for my wacky theory.
Okay, so here's the thing. One thing I didn't mention was that the very first shot we get of this episode is a 10:10 clock.
(Okay, technically, it's a 9:10 clock, but the shape of it is the same as the one that hung on the wall in Beth’s room at Grady.) And remember per THIS POST, watch manufacturers often set their watches to that time because it represents something specific.
According to legend, it's the exact time at which various historical figures and leaders were assassinated. Whether that's true or not is up for debate, but that's the legend of it. In other words, having that clock on Beth's wall isn't actually a resurrection symbol. It was just a foreshadow of her getting shot and TF believing she’s dead.
Then there’s the 8:20 clocks, which are a perfect mirror of the 10:10 clock represent the opposite thing. So, if the 10:10 clock represents death, then the 8:20 clock represents resurrection.
I think one of the best proofs we have of this theory is the fact that we saw the 8:20 clock around Rick in Carl's vision of the future.
As far as Michonne, Carol, Daryl, and Judith are concerned, that vision can't possibly come to pass in the way Carl wanted, because Rick is dead. Or so they think. I think the 8:20 clock was there to show that, in TF’s eyes, Rick will be resurrected, and that future will come to pass.
And now, we have this 10:10 clock in the first scene with Ezekiel. My first thought was that it represented that someone's going to die. I'd love to believe that it's just Jesus, since we know we already lost him, but honestly probably not. It would be an unnecessarily symbol, which TWD never does. And remember that callbacks always double as foreshadows. So, it must apply to someone else. I started wondering who it could be, and went through everyone in the scene before realizing the answer was right in front of me. It's Ezekiel's watch. It's on his wrist. So, it probably applies to him.
Now here's the thing. (Bringing together a whole bunch of variables, here.) About a week ago, a bunch of articles came out implying that Ezekiel was going to die soon. Probably not until season 10, but we’ll still be losing him soon. I was disappointed to hear that. I maintain that he probably won't get his comic book, death, and that someone else (you know who if you’ve read spoilers) will be getting his comic book death. Of course, just because he doesn't get his comic book death doesn't mean he's not going to die. That hasn't been the case for any of the characters. But I'd simply hoped that we could keep Zeke around for a little longer.
But the more I think about it, the more suspicious I am with how they're dealing with this. This idea of Ezekiel���s impending death wasn’t leaked by the spoiler site. It's being said by the clickbait sites, which many of us believe are informed by AMC. Of course this isn’t something AMC has officially confirmed or anything, and they won’t, but these sites get info from “sources close to the show,” so it feels like AMC is preparing us for Ezekiel’s death.
Why would they release something about Ezekiel's death? Putting the spoiler site aside, this isn’t something AMC ever does.
There been several times that we've been able to guess the character was going to die (again, outside of spoilers). For example, with Sonequa Martin-Greene and Chad Coleman, they both got jobs at other networks that were announced. AMC can't do anything about that, and so because they were leaving the show, it was obvious that they would be dying on TWD. (A similar thing is happening with Sydney Park right now.) But those are outside influences. AMC does their best to hide character deaths, not talk about them a year before they happen.
So here’s what I’m getting at. They have released information about official character deaths exactly 2 times: with Beth and Rick. One of those characters we know is alive because he left them a helicopter with Jadis, and the other one was believed and have been saying is alive for five seasons and the powers that be have never actually looked us in the eye and denied it.
With Beth, AMC tried to say their “leak” of her death was accidental, but we’ve never believed that. With Rick, it turned out to be a bald-faced lie. SO many articles (same sites now talking about Zeke) talked about Rick’s death because Andrew wanted to leave. It was mostly true, but he didn’t actually die at all, now did he?
Furthermore, even though this clock represents death, it's not like we've seen it around every character who’s died. In fact, the only one I can think of (please correct me if I’ve forgotten an instance) is around Beth.
So, Ezekiel is being paralleled with Beth here. Then we have Carol and the serious piggyback ride, which is obviously parallel to Beth and Daryl. And we have the fact that in 9x01, Ezekiel fell through the floor, looking exactly like the walker from 4x01, and nearly died. He was saved, of course, and Carol was relieved. That’s an awful lot like what happened with Richonne in 7x12, which foreshadowed Rick’s death fake out.
I think Ezekiel's "death," whatever it ends up being is going to be a fake out. I think that's what this is leading to. When Carol first met Ezekiel, we saw the serious piggyback ride because at that point, the relationship really could be heavily paralleled with Beth and Daryl’s. At that point, they weren’t actually in a romantic relationship yet. Carol and Ezekiel were just getting to know one another, like Bethyl when their serious piggyback happened.
Now were seeing it again, as though to remind us, and it's coming in the same episode in which we saw a death omen for Ezekiel in his watch.
Think back over everything else I said above: the serious piggyback, the snake references, the parallels to the light falling down the chute, the music dying, him falling through the floor in 9x06, even the deer. It could be there to represent that, like Beth, Ezekiel will be presumed dead and yet be alive. And I don't know if this will be a death fake out for us, the audience, like Beth was, or more of a Rick thing, but at the very least I believe Carol will think he's dead.
Even the Big Spot parallels work here. Big Spot happened in S4 and Beth disappeared in S5. This happening now in S9, and they’re suggesting we’ll “lose” Ezekiel in S10.
Also remember that, between Carol and Ezekiel, Ezekiel represents Beth (the dreamer, the optimist, has faith, etc) while Carol is just like Daryl (more prone to negativity and practicality). So paralleling Zeke with Beth and repeating this arc in exactly this way makes perfect sense.
Now, I also want to add that, while saying all this may make it seem like all the symbols I named in this episode don’t actually point to Beth. Please know that I don’t think that at all. While I DO think they point at a coming arc for Carzekiel, remember, once again, that Rick is alive. Seeing these symbols, even just as foreshadows of this arc being repeated with another character, makes me believe more than ever that Beth will be returning, and soon. These symbols are alive and well because these resurrection arcs are still very much in play.
So that's my first wacky Ezekiel Theory. That Ezekiel isn't actually going to die, but that it will be another fake out of some kind. A repeat of Beth and Daryl’s arc.
The thing is guys, my theory is really a lot bigger than this. I need to talk about Carol vs. Alpha, because things are coming together over many seasons for me, and I’m seeing some interesting patterns. I feel strongly that the Carol/Alpha dynamic is and always was going to lead to Beth’s emergence, and I can tie it in to what I’ve said here about Ezekiel, but it’s a sprawling theory and I need to look over some previous episodes and check a few things, so I’m not sure when this theory will be finished. I’ll try to get it out to you by the weekend. No promises, though. ;D
Thoughts on Zeke?
#beth greene#beth greene lives#beth is alive#beth is coming#td theory#td theories#team delusional#team defiance#beth is almost here#bethyl
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it was final - (richie tozier) part 3 of 5
part 1 / part 2 / part 4 / part 5
Pairing: Richie Tozier x Reader / Eddie x Reader? kinda
Summary: Apparently, after everything you and your friends had been through, it wasn’t enough. Now you were alone in Derry, and the very thing you thought had an ending, was coming back.
Author’s Note: this is kinda in eddie’s pov but i thought that would help considering richie and the reader aren’t in the same place also i hope someone out there is proud because i persevered even with writer’s block
Word Count: 1,967
Warnings: Swearing
When you had first become friends with Eddie, you would spend every waking moment with him. Even on a far too rainy day, you’d talk to him for hours on the home phone, much to the displeasure of both of your mothers (and Richie).
“Eddie dear, do you know how many germs there are on a telephone? Eddie? There’s more germs than on the seat of a toilet!”
“Y/n, you’re racking up the phone bill! Can’t you stop talking to your friends for one minute?”
In fact, he had been the one to introduce the idea of sneaking into your bedroom, and was the main reason you were terrified of the dark. On one particularly boring Thursday when the phone lines had been cut due to a storm, the tapping on your window had you almost pissing your pants. You thought it was the neighbour’s cat again, trying to paw at a moth, but you became doubly frightened when the curtains opened to show a very much human face rather than a cat’s.
“Eds, what the hell are you doing? My mom is literally in the other room,” you whispered, as you slid open the window to invite him in. If anyone else had called him ‘Eds’ he’d be scowling and throwing fake punches, although whenever you did, his stomach felt sick, but in a good way. The only downside to this, was that Richie had caught on too, and had tried sneaking in a few ‘Eds’ here and there himself. He was met with a, “fuck you Trashmouth,” or the occasional middle finger.
You knew deep down, that Eddie would die for you if he really, really, had to. So it was only by instinct that you had called him first after seeing the clown.
-
“Y/n? Y-you thuh-thuh-thuh-there?” Bill called, after hearing the phone supposedly fall from your grasp. You kept your eyes on the person or… thing standing outside and fumbled hastily to pick up the phone.
“Uh- yeah sorry Bill, I- I think I have to go, I was supposed to do some ch-ch-chores after school-“
“Y/n, is ev- is everyth-thing oh-okay?”
“Huh? Yeah of course don’t worry,”
“I-I mean, I know tha-that yuh-you and R-Richie had b-broken up, b-but,”
“Yeah Bill that sounds great, I’ll call you soon, okay?” you hung up the phone, still locking eyes with who- or what you had believed to be dead. It had been almost six months since you last saw IT, and that whole ritual had seemed so final, so either you were going crazy, or you were staring death quite literally in the face.
You took a step forward, then looked around to make sure there was nothing behind you, but as you looked back outside the kitchen window, IT was gone. In the few moments it had taken you to bite down your scream, and feel your heart pumping again, you had subconsciously dialled the number for Eddie’s new phone. You hadn’t spoken to him since he’d left, and when his father had passed the phone to him, you almost jumped at the sound of his voice.
“Hello-“
“Jesus please us, Eds! Your voice! Have you started doing impressions now or have your balls finally dropped?” just hearing him laugh in reply was enough to make you forget about your current situation. But not totally enough.
“The first thing you say to me in almost five months offends me, you’re unbelievable.” There was a soft silence that followed, comfortable, as if you both hadn’t gone through hell and back. “Hey, I really missed you,”
And then you were crying. Dear god why am I crying? “I miss you too Eds, you have no idea what it’s been like since-“
“No yeah I know, do you need to catch me up on anything other than Romeo and Juliet’s breakup? Have any of you died yet?”
“Oh fuck Eds, haven’t you heard? Romeo’s skipped town, and apparently Juliet’s gone insane, seeing clowns and shit-“
“What?”
“Richie’s moved-“
“No, I know that. What was that about ‘seeing clowns and shit’?” you could hear the concern in his voice, it was even more prominent as you heard him take a pump from his puffer.
“Oh yeah- that’s what I was calling you about, I was on the phone to Bill, and I just turn around and I see fucking IT outside my window,” now you were twirling the phone cord as if you were gossiping about boys, and makeup, and what Tiffany was wearing last Tuesday; and not discussing the very thing that had almost killed you and your friends numerous times.
“Okay, have you called Richie? He’s moved to this town like an hour from you- I wasn’t supposed to saying anything but-“
“I’m not calling him.”
“What? But he could just ask his parents-“
“Eddie, I don’t wanna get into it. I called you, now what do I do?”
“I dunno, I’m not exactly Big Bill intuitive,”
“If you throw around the word ‘intuitive’ at our age, I’d think you’re pretty close to ‘Big Bill intuitive’. You got us out of that place without a map Eds, just… tell me if I need to… just tell me what to do. I trust you.”
-
“You have to tell him that you like him!” Eddie’s heart hurt as he said this, but he saw the way Richie looked at you, and as your best friend, it was Eddie’s job to pressure you into doing things you didn’t think you were ready for. “If you don’t do it, I will,” he made a gesture of cupping his hands over his mouth to call Richie over, and laughed as you basically tackled him to the ground.
“I swear to God, Eddie Kaspbrak, you will do no such thing, or I’ll be shoving that middle finger you like so much up-“
“Woah, okay, okay!” he blushed, noticing how close you were, and how you were basically sitting on him. “My mom wouldn’t be so happy with that idea, she’d be disinfecting me for weeks,” and tried to cover his red cheeks with a mock look of horror.
“Eds, what if he doesn’t even like me back?” you sat yourself up, and looked at Richie doing somersaults in the water. You giggled as he came up for air, his hair plastered to his face and his glasses.
“Are you fucking kidding me Y/n?” now he sat up, looking at you in disbelief, “how could anyone not like you?”
“Well for starters-“
“Okay shut up before I do something that not even you would be proud of,” his blush returned at having made you laugh, “but- okay he made us swear not to tell you-“
“Tell me what?”
“Well… everything? He can’t stop talking about you, I’m surprised you haven’t even noticed the flirting. You’ve known him longer than any of us!”
“Oh please, Eds, he talks to me the same way you do,” Ouch. Eddie could feel the butterflies in his stomach attacking each other, a mixture of sadness and guilt of not having made his feelings more obvious to you before it was too late.
-
The second you had hung up the phone, Eddie’s fingers flipped through the yellow legal pad on the kitchen counter, looking for an answer. He found Bill, which was just as good. Eddie had reassured you that you probably hadn’t seen anything, reminded you what you had all gone through to kill IT.
“Hello, Zack Denbrough speaking,”
“Hi sir, this is Eddie Kaspbrak, I need to-“
“Bill’s already been on the phone today, he’s eating dinner,”
“Please sir, this is important-“
“Honey, food’s getting cold!” his wife called from the dining room.
“But Mr Denbrough,” Eddie couldn’t so much as fit in another word when he heard the phone line ‘beep’ in showing that adults really do not care about anything. He groaned, calling the others one by one but being turned down by mothers and fathers alike. Mike’s at the movies, oh she’s doing her homework, Stan can’t come to the phone right now. Eddie hesitated before calling the last person on the list. He was sure that he’d be willing to help, but unsure that you would want it.
He sighed with relief as he heard Maggie Tozier call her son to the phone.
“Hey Eds, long time no see, seenyor,”
“Just because I am physically unable to punch you, doesn’t mean I’m not thinking about it Tozier,” there was an unspoken tension between the two boys. Whether it was the oncoming fact that you were in danger, or just plain missing each other, they were unable to tell. Both feelings made them sick, as there seemed there was no way to fix any of it.
“If you’re calling about what I did to Y/n-“
“What did you do to her? She called me and – no, it’s not about that,” Eddie could hear Richie’s intake of breath, as if he had just breached out of water for the first time in ten minutes. Or as if he were in the middle of sobbing.
“Eddie, I don’t know how to help her, I did everything I could to make sure she wouldn’t get the fucking barrel,”
“The barrel?”
“Of the gun! Could you not feel it? There was nothing final about what happened when we thought we killed IT. Don’t you think there’d be some sort of explosion, or I dunno, something big?”
“Rich-“
“It’s like Bill said, Derry is IT, and IT is Derry. And Derry, in case you hadn’t noticed, is perfectly fine, which is not perfectly fine-“
“What the hell are you talking about? Derry isn’t a thing, we can’t kill Derry,”
“If we don’t find a way Eddie, Derry’s going to kill Y/n.”
-
As easy as it was to get out of Derry, no one had given it a thought. It was as if by some other force, the town needed its people, as if it survived off of them. But by the end of 1985, there was a brief period in which that thought had crossed everybody’s mind, like they had woken up from a coma and finally realised how shitty of a town Derry was. Sure, it had its charm, with the town library, and the enormous Paul Bunyan statue, but it wasn’t until now people begun to notice the smell. You couldn’t escape the smell of the sewer. If it weren’t coming from the drains or gutters, the Kenduskeag stream would happily supply its aroma of runoff grey-water. Beverly Marsh was the first of many to leave, and perhaps her leaving had been the one to wake up everybody else. Or maybe it had something to do with the eight kids that had gone into the sewers without much of a notice.
But now the situation had changed, and those very kids that had started the farewell party, wanted to come back. And as hard as the task seemed, to convince their parents to go back to Derry, Bev, Eddie, Bill, and Richie, were already on their way.
-
You sat on the edge of the sidewalk in front of your house with a cigarette gripped between your teeth, daring Mr Arnold to yell at you to put it out. But despite the exaggerated drags and coughs, he hadn’t even given you a glance, as if you weren’t there at all. You stepped on the cigarette to put it out as you stood up, and as you turned to say, “It was fun hanging out with you, sir!” your feet had hit the curb and sent you falling backwards onto your ass. Mr Arnold seemed to be hanging from his porch light, yet there was no rope.
He looked as if he were floating.
AN: i kept on rewriting the last few hundred words over and over again but i finally! came up with something im somewhat happy with, and i hope you guys are too!!!!
tagged: @riverdalerebel @johnsonxstilinski @littlepaperaeroplanes @tn22220-blog
#richie tozier#richie tozier imagine#richie tozier x reader#richietozierluv#it cast#it cast imagine#it movie#finn wolfhard#finn wolfhard imagine#finn wolfhard x reader#stranger things#stranger things imagine#stranger things cast imagine#mike wheeler#mike wheeler imagine#mike wheeler x reader#it was final
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Remember Me
Chapter 2: Dream A Little Dream Of Me
Word count: 3,120
Chapter 1
Lol sorry for any typos I just really wanted to get this up today and I type super fast
——————————————
Richie wasn’t a stalker, nor did he plan on becoming one or ever has been one. He only knew what room the boy lived on because he saw him moving in. However, he still felt very stalkerish when walking down the hall and up to the said boy’s door. He wanted to be friendly. He hadn’t met anyone who he was actually interested in even possibly being friends with until this kid. Richie wasn’t even totally sure why it was him specifically but he felt drawn towards him. He couldn’t even explain it to himself. In a way it felt like a magnet was pulling him in. This was strange because Richie is very good at detaching himself from people and things but he hasn’t been able to shake the tugging feeling in his gut.
So here he was, standing in front of some (kinda) random persons door, about to knock and feeling like a slight creep. He raised a closed fist to tap on the door but it opens just before he has the chance, and a small framed body bumps into him lightly and the jumps back a little. Richie smiles brightly at the shocked look on his face.
“Good mornin’ sunshine.” He says adding a southern drawl to his words. Then continued in his normal tone of voice after getting no response. “As soon as I walked out yesterday, I realized we didn’t actually introduce ourselves. So, hi.” He shoves a hand out in front of him. “I’m Richie Tozier.” He wiggled his fingers a bit to try and get him to accept the handshake but the boy only stared back at Richie blankly for a few seconds before speaking.
“Eddie Kaspbrak.” Richie’s head fogged up after hearing this. He had met someone with that name. Maybe it was a similar...name? Eddie took the extended hand and shook it, interrupting Richie’s thinking and attempt to recall any memories of the name. Eddie smiled up at him with sealed lips.
“Maybe I didn’t tell you my name because I didn’t want you to know it.” Richie withdrew his hand and stepped back a bit, shoving the hands deep into the pockets of his jacket.
“It’s a little late for that suga.” Eddie stepped into the hall, ignoring the comment, and shut the door behind him. He began to walk away but Richie jogged to follow. “So what’s your first class?”
Eddie responded quickly, “Calculus.” Richie nudged him with his elbow.
“Hey! Me too. You know what this means right?”
“I won’t be rid of you as quickly as I thought?” He sounded very unamused. Richie hooked his arm through Eddie’s.
“Nope! Now you have someone to sit next to in class. I mean you know how nobody ever knows anyone in class so you just sit by yourself and it’s a little awkward? Well now you have a friend to sit by. You’re welcome!” Jesus Richie never shuts the fuck up. He knew how annoying he could get, his father never let him forget it, but he just couldn’t help it. As annoying as he knew he was that wouldn’t stop him. It took so much effort to tone it down. He tried his best though because sometimes he was just too much for people. He looked over at Eddie who now held a strong smirk.
“What made you think we were friends?” Richie felt a buzzing excitement grow in him. He fucking loved when people played along with his bullshit as stupid as it sounds. It was a form of validation that he needed, one of many.
“Well, you haven't told me to fuck off. So, I take it you like me.” They were almost to the classroom now.
“Okay. Fuck off.” Eddie opened the door.
“Ah, but you see Eds, I know you don't mean that. You only said that because I said something.”
“That’s not my name. Impressive, you forgot already considering I told you about five minutes ago.” Eddie slid into a seat and Richie sat directly to his left, very close to him. Richie starts pulling out his old laptop from his messenger bag and he can feel Eddie’s eyes on him as he does. When he turns back around to face Eddie, he feels some heavy deja vú. He can’t think about anything except: This has happened before I’m so sure of it. That is, until Eddie speaks up, voicing his exact thoughts.
“Did you just get some serious deja vú just now? Because I did and what the fuck that was spooky.” He looks flustered. Richie was very quick to answer.
“Yes.” They stayed in the silence for a few minutes, trying to recall a memory of this, a memory of anything really. But nothing came to mind. For once Richie didn’t know what to say. They stayed like this for the remainder of class. With Eddie constantly shushing Richie when he made a dirty joke. Eddie caught him staring a few times (Richie couldn’t not stare) but didn’t call him out on it until after he caught him the third time.
“Wow, I’m just that pretty, you can’t look away?” Richie looked away, feeling his face heat up. He didn’t know Eddie noticed the staring. He tried not to stare but it was difficult. At least he wasn’t alone there, whenever Richie looked away for a second, Eddie’s eyes were immediately on him until he looked back. They continued with this, more jokes, more shushing, the staring. They both seemed to be greatly enjoying the other company. They stood after the professor dismissed the class and made their way to the door.
“So. Would you consider me your friend now? Because we did just sit and talk for a whole ass class and oh, well, I don’t know you really seemed to enjoy my being there. Just sayin’.” He gave Eddie a lopsided smile. God he was a little too cocky sometimes. Richie received an eye roll and a sigh alone with the response-
“Fine.” Eddie looked over it on the surface but there was a little smile playing at the corners of his mouth (no Richie was not looking at his mouth, no sir), threatening to show itself.
“Really?” He raised his eyebrows at the smaller boy. Another sigh was delivered.
“Yes. I don’t have any friends here because I moved out of state. And if I get past the mom jokes, I actually like you.” The smile made an appearance and Richie felt his chest tighten.
“Well a’right, it’s settled ‘en.” He didn’t mean to say it in a british accent but when he was nervous he did the voices a lot more often and unintentionally. He dropped the voice forcefully and continued. “Glad I could be your first.” He winked, and Eddie’s cheeks went pink but he still maintained his nonchalant expression. Eddie turned and went left, raising his hand to wave goodbye without turning around. Like he knew Richie was watching him. Richie went right after he was out of sight.
——————————
Richie went through the rest of his classes that day like normal. No more deja vú or weird flirtatious encounters, and no more Eddie. After his final class, and he was back in his dorm room, Richie slid off his shoes and fell face first into his twin sized mattress with a groan. His last class was probably his latest out of the rest of them through the week, it ended at 9:30. Richie had always been more of a night person, so he chose an evening class. He focused better at night. It was sometimes a curse. He thinks so much more at night and that brings on the insomnia. That and nightmares. This was all something he had struggled with for as long as he could remember. He would get little to no sleep because his head was so full, and if he did sleep he had horrible nightmares. He can’t remember the nightmares once he is awake, but he does remember the fear he feels in them, that sticks with him long after he is awake. He jolts up in bed, shaking and in a cold sweat. He’s not able to shake the feeling for days and he would get too scared to sleep.
So there he was, laying face down on his bed with his glasses crooked and smushed. He was indeed tired, there was exhaustion running through his body. It was tugging him into unconsciousness and he did his best to fight it. Richie had a particularly terrifying dream a few nights ago and since then he has put off sleeping besides naps for as long as possible. He couldn’t stop the feeling of comfort and relaxation the swept over him and he unwillingly drifted off to sleep.
His heart was beating in his throat as soon as he heard the cry of pain from below him. And he couldn’t breathe. Why couldn’t he fucking breathe? Richie was sure it was Eddie’s voice. It echoed through the whole house and into the room Richie was still in. He needed to move. Move! He concentrated on making his legs walk out of the room. Once he managed to get out he was met with Bill who looked just as frightened as Richie felt. They kept down the stairs together and stood with the rest of the losers, all looking at Eddie cradling his arm and backed into a corner with that horrible thing, with It, looming over him. It turned the other 6 kids and lunged towards them.
Richie sat up so fast he probably got whiplash. This was the second time this week. He stayed hunched over in bed for a few minutes, trying to steady his breathing and erratic heart rate. After it became somewhat normal, he threw his sweat soaked shirt off and lied back on the bed. There was something different about this dream. He remember something. He actually remembered something. It was Eddie. He was in Richie’s dream, but he was younger. He tried to recall what was happening in the dream but fails. All he knows is that Eddie was definitely there.
He was still trembling when he brought his fingertips to the bridge of his nose. He remembered Eddie. Why Eddie? Why would he be present in such a horrifying dream? Richie reached over to the night stand, pulled a cigarette out of the package, and lit it once against his lips. He exhaled slow and shaky then ran the free hand through his matted curls. He kept his hand tangled in his hair and lied awake the rest of the night.
—————————
Eddie liked to think of himself as a calm and collected person. If his anxiety didn’t get in the way he could keep his cool and that was a quality he took pride in. Now even with this helpful attribute, he was not calm right now and there was no fucking reason as to why.
He was sitting on his bed alone with a text book open across his legs and The Smiths was playing softly through his Bluetooth speaker in the corner of the room. He had probably read the same sentence three times over but he just couldn’t retain the words that his eyes scanned over. Again... Richie had asked Eddie if they could study together one day at the end of their shared class. The two had become good friends over the course of a week. They were now very close and it happened in such a short amount of time it was kind of astounding how quickly they clicked. It was so easygoing. Richie said he would stop by and come to Eddie’s dorm to study together. According to Richie, he needed help. However, Eddie was pretty skeptical of this, he had seen Richie in class and he seemed naturally smart. Of course, this didn’t stop Eddie from saying yes. He really did enjoy Richie’s company, more then he thought he would, and more then he would like to admit. He couldn’t figure out if this was a good thing or a bad thing. He didn’t want to become dependent on anyone. He wouldn’t do that, it’s fine...he won’t let that happen.
There was a rhythmic knock on his door and Eddie snapped out of his thoughts to get up and open it for nine other then the man of this thoughts. Richie stood in the doorway wearing a rainbow knit sweater and the signature black jeans with clunky boots and bright blue painted nails to tie the whole look together. He looked exhausted, Eddie couldn’t help but focus on the bags that stood out from under his eyes. He felt a pinch in the back of this throat.
“G’afternoon Eddie Spaghetti, looking as cute as ever on this fine Friday of September.” He gave a two finger salute as he entered the room. Making himself right at home, he flopped down onto Eddie’s neat bed. Eddie cautiously sat down next to him, keeping some distance between them as an attempt to listen to his previous thoughts.
“Not my name.”
“Yes it is and you love it.” He reaches up to ruffle Eddie’s hair. Eddie shoved the arm away before he could mess it up further and shifted the book back in front of him as Richie took his boots off.
“Okay so, I was thinking we could start off with the theory of... what are you doing?” Richie was pulling the sweater over his head and his white undershirt had ridden up with it, exposing the smooth skin underneath. Eddie had to resist the urge to reach out and out his hands there and move them up, up, up... He forced his eyes back to Richie’s face.
“It’s hot in your room.” He threw the sweater over the back of Eddie’s desk chair. “I mean I get that it’s September and all, but it’s really not that cold out yet.” He settled himself back on the bed and put his head on Eddie’s lap where the textbook once was. Eddie made a note of what was happening but didn’t dare move. They stayed in this position and talked for awhile. They started off with study materials but got distracted easily and moved on to other subjects; they talked about their roommates, music, their families, a few high school things, touching just on the surface of each subject, careful not to go too into depth. It was all just so easy, it was so easy to talk to each other. It was comfortable.
“You’ll never guess it. I’m telling you, give up now.” Eddie said with a smirk. His hand had ended up playing with the ends of Richie’s curls subconsciously. Richie was trying the guess Eddie’s top three favorite bands and or artists of all time. He had only gotten the first two so far, The Smiths and David Bowie. These were too easy to figure out, Eddie’s playlist he had going currently gave him away.
“Is It Beach Boys? I feel like you would like them.” Eddie tapped his forehead with the back of his hand playfully.
“No it’s not. Wrong again, I’m telling you to give it up.” Eddie carted a hand through Richie’s hair at the roots and felt the boy relax over his legs and sigh softly.
“Hey Eddie, you wanna know something?” He asked completely dropping the previous subject. Eddie stiffened some when he heard the change of tone in his voice. He swallowed.
“Yeah sure.”
“You were in a dream I had the other night.” Eddie laughed lightly at this.
“Ha. Was it a sex dream? More importantly, was I any good?” Richie’s mouth grew into an intoxicating smile.
“Well I don’t remember it, but it sure as hell can be if you want it to be.” The smile lingered for a moment and then a more earnest look too hold of his sharp features. “It’s just that. I don’t remember it. I don’t ever remember them. But this time was different because when I woke up, I remembered something. And that something is you. You were there.” Eddie’s eyebrows were now furrowed in thought after hearing this.
“Tell me about them. What do you know about these dreams? When they occur and stuff.” Richie nodded and moved on the bed until he was sitting in front of Eddie with his long legs crisscrossed. Richie proceeded to tell him about how he has had nightmares for a long, long time, for as long as he could remember. And how they were so terrifying that he tried to stay awake to prevent them and that’s what brought the insomnia. And how no matter how hard he tries, he can’t remember anything from the dreams.
Except me. He remembered me. Eddie thought. When Richie finished, Eddie didn’t know what to say. He was biting his finger nail nervously and trying desperately to find the right words somewhere in his mind. He wanted to help Richie so badly. Eddie hated to admit it but listening to Richie talk about this -something that obviously bothered him deeply- broke his heart. He has to help.
“Richie. Why do you think you remembered me?” That was a pretty good place to start, Eddie thought so.
“I’m honestly not sure. Maybe because I trust you? I value you greatly as my friend, and my subconscious was telling me to go to you- someone I trust -for advice.” Richie was looking down at his hands instead of Eddie’s eyes when he spoke. Eddie watched him take his glasses off and nervously clean the lenses with the end of his tee shirt. Eddie took the glasses from his hands and breathed on the glass to fog them up and clean them better.
“I’ll help you Rich. In anyway I can. I trust you too. I don’t know why I trust you so much. It’s strange because I’m normally... I don’t know... closed off I guess. But I do trust you and I will do whatever I can to help.” Eddie offers a warm smile and puts the frames back onto Richie’s face, accidentally brushing his cheek when he pulls his hand back.
“Thank you Eds.” And Eddie is taken aback a little by how sincere he looks and sounds right now. Like he is giving himself up and Eddie can really tell he means it when he said he trusts Eddie.
“You’re welcome.” They are silent until Eddie speaks again. “Okay well we should probably actually do some studying because it’s 9:45 and we haven’t done anything.” Eddie grabbed the long forgotten textbook and Richie rolled onto his stomach to listen.
———————————
Thank you so much for reading!!!❤️ Let me know if you have any notes or comments or anything! and if you would like to be added to the taglist!:)
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Eddy furiously packs a suitcase with several items such as clothes, his records, and anything of value to him.
The impact of this scam is so serious that the Ed’s need to run instead of hide. Remember how Edd stores food, water and other emergency products of need under his bed. This situation is more serious then the time Ed dressed as a monster and stuck the kids to his bedroom wall.
Eddy is scared. It’s rare whenever we see Eddy scared. He is fearless. Or so we think. He does a great job masking his inner fears.
Eddy jumps up and down on his crammed suitcase until it finally locks.
Eddy is famous for taking advantage of cartoon physics. He would have made all these belongings fit inside as if it were no problem.
Since Big Picture Show is suggested to take place a year later Eddy is presumed to be 13 years old. He’s scared of growing up. He doesn’t want to face challenges. He thinks too hard making him forget who he once was.
The only chance audience witness at seeing the real Eddy is at the very end of the movie where he admits that he’s worn a Bro mask for a long time.
Eddy has always been a confused and shy boy. Eddy has his own unique personality which disappeared after season 2. He became scared to face reality, ditch his true self to portray someone who could never love him.
Eddy tries to drag the suitcase off the bed and run for his life.
I love the stretchy bendy arms throughout this scene.
Were the Ed’s planning to meet up in a specific spot so they could make their escape? Ed runs into Eddy’s house. Eddy’s room is a safe place for Ed. His friend makes him feel welcome and secure. Ed relies on Eddy to be his protector because his parents won’t.
To Eddy’s luck, the suitcase explodes. A pinata of Eddy’s valuables pop out of the suitcase and fly around in viewers faces. There are a bunch of cool Easter eggs.
I love Eddy’s valuables.
His room is very different from all the other characters. He’s more of an old fashioned person who likes records. the eighties, magazines. It’s a chance to see who the real Eddy is.
Bro and Eddy DON’t have the same taste in music. Believe me you will understand my point at the end of the movie.
Maybe this is why Eddy thought nobody would like him. He has much different interests. He also has a more unique lifestyle. Eddy has never thought too highly of himself. Every character, even Ed and Edd, have made a snide remark towards Eddy’s character. To the best of his ability Eddy ignores it. So we think.
Remember how Eddy used to juggle, play piano, and improvise nun chucks out of dice? Eddy had a much different personality in season 1. He was easy to get along with and always looked out for his friends. It’s hard to understand why the kids wouldn’t accept him. Of course the main reason is that he has been scamming them for ages, but not every day. Sometimes his scams are creative and well thought out.
Why didn’t the kids want to befriend Eddy?
Is this the guidebook from May I Have This Ed?
Look very closely in this screenshot and you will notice a page from a calendar.
Does this film take place in May?
I always had the summer vibe because there is no mention of school. There is also a no worries feel. Ironic seeing how the Ed’s are on the run, nearly chase one another way, and witness a horrible beating.
It may just be a random calendar page, but I hope the movie is set in either late June or early July.
Eddy hears pounding on the door.
I like that shirt hanging off from Eddy’s bed in the background. I sort of wish the Ed’s could have worn other clothing. I guess fans got their wish in season 5 when the Ed’s were dressing in different clothing every now and then. It should have been more often because their clothing reflected their personality.
Eddy’s trademark shirt is a big reflection of Bro. In the flashback of Every Which Way But Ed, Ed and Edd are wearing semi different clothing while Eddy is wearing this over sized yellow shirt.
Hand me down from Bro? I’d say it’s possible because Eddy wants to be the perfect mirror image of his brother. He’s also trying to remain close with him as he has been gone for so long. Eddy never realized how long his brother has been gone for until the events of Ed in a Half Shell.
My head canon is that Eddy has not seen Bro for eight years. And Eddy was pretty young when Bro was around. He was not old enough to understand what was really going on. Now that he is older the events from when he was a child affect him.
Season 5 was Eddy’s downfall. He was on edge, had a bigger temper, and looked more anxious. He mellowed out more in season 6 because he was trying to be himself. Bro was still there because he remains a big question on Eddy’s mind.
The door is about to break off its hinges.
Doors play an important role throughout this movie.
Doors are "ways in" or "ways out" of (or to) something. We usually don't think about the door when we get to it - unless it is a particularly eye catching one! When opening a door we’re brought out into the world where anything can happen. Only each character has seen a little part of the world. We need to explore what is on the outside more then what is on the inside.
Side Note: Is that a purple dress? Also, I didn’t take a screenshot of this, but there are a pair of women’s heels in Eddy’s closet. There are times when Eddy cross dresses mainly for the sake of a scam, but Eddy’s sexuality has come into question multiple times.
Eddy tries to impersonate his mother while working with a silent vacuum.
Eddy’s mother was off screen cleaning Eddy’s room in one episode. She must do this a lot.
I love Eddy’s mom. We’ll get into that more as the analysis go, but she is always a sweet woman. She and Eddy’s dad are strict, but for very good reason.
The door is thrown off its hinges!
Oh no, the kids?!
Eddy begs for the kids not to hurt him.
Eddy is terrified about getting hurt. He is also a magnet when it comes to slapstick comedy. As the series went it felt like Eddy was given all this bad luck on purpose. He always got hurt and his character was made dumber. He had no idea how to eat spaghetti! How could the writers do that to their protagonist?
No character is perfect. They won’t always have a happy ending. Eddy has been through it all and yet he’s only twelve years old. There are so many kids Eddy’s age these days who have a powerful story to share. Characters like Eddy have inspired the world. Don’t be afraid to share your past. Don’t let the past change who you are.
Ed gallops into the room.
Eddy hiding behind the vacuum cleaner reminds me of the security guard who hid behind a car in Jurassic World. This is a great opportunity for the characters to get away and yet they hide.
Ed’s massive sock-bag gets stuck in the doorway causing him to fall on Eddy.
See I thought this sock-bag was going to have a bigger part in the movie’s plot. It gets in the way.
Believing that it is the kids Eddy begs for them not to hurt him.
Poor Eddy.
Any type of pain or when he is running away is a trigger from his days with Bro. Bro tormented him. This expression and pose Eddy is in looks like Bro is playing uncle with him. Is Eddy defending himself or grabbing hold of his leg?
Finally realizing that it’s Ed Eddy calms down a bit.
Ed asks Eddy what they’re going to do. Ed and Edd rely on Eddy for everything. Eddy never minded that. He loved being the leader and leading his friends around because in season 1 Ed and Edd were so helpless. The theory about Ed and Edd being better off without Eddy was switched around. It almost felt as if Ed and Edd were the ones holding Eddy back from being friends with the cul-de-sac kids.
Maybe that’s another reason why the kids didn’t like Eddy.
Eddy never thought to abandon his friends. Ed and Edd have grown over time because of Eddy. Their social skills have grown. Still, they have never thought to leave Eddy even when his behavior was beginning to grow on the lines as abusive towards them.
The stress of being the leader starts to wear down on Eddy by season 4. The best example is in Stuck in Ed when Eddy has scam block. His friends help him out, but they never take charge. Even in season 5. No matter how Edd stands his ground he will always turn to Eddy to make sure his ideas are okay. Anxiety builds up within Eddy such as this moment here where he is running around in circles.
Eddy asks what happened to Edd in this very panicked voice.
I think separating to pack belongings must have been Eddy’s idea. He’s going to beat himself up for the rest of his life is something happened to Edd.
Here’s Edd! Phew, I thought Edd was traveling behind Ed, but then got caught by the kids when I first watched this scene.
He was inside Ed’s filthy bag.
Edd is covered in muck. Surprisingly, Edd never complains about being filthy. There is no time to.
I have a head canon that Edd gets over his germophobia in the movie. I will analyze more on that once time comes.
Edd is so dazed for a moment that it takes him a few minutes to notice Eddy put a suitcase in his arms.
Every single shot of this movie is pure perfection. Expressions, actions... all of it is amazing! Another applause to the crew of Ed, Edd n Eddy.
“We’re fugitives, Eddy!” Edd warns Eddy. “Are you aware of the consequences we're about to endure? All because of our misguided chicanery!"
Chicanery - The use of trickery to achieve a political, financial, or legal purpose.
Lots of talk will go on about the unknown scam throughout the movie. This scam was nothing like the other failed attempts.
Ed senses something wrong.
A shadow passes along the window. This is turning into a horror movie.
This is my favorite set of animation and blocking. Something is not right. The Ed’s are in deep trouble. They have to run, not hide.
#Ed Edd n Eddy#eene#ed edd n eddy big picture show#Ed#Edd#Eddy#character analysis#A Fistful of Ed#eene analysis#eene season 4#eene season 5#EddEddy#Stuck in Ed#Every Which Way But Ed#the eds#Eddy's Brother
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Ship: Richie/Eddie, (side) Mike/Stan
Description: Based on this Article (because every fandom should have a version of this story)
“I don’t have a problem with you liking guys. As long as I’m the guy you like.” [Or Straight guy worries he’s being homophobic to gay roommate, realises he’s fallen in love with him.]
Warnings: Homophobia mention
(Sorry if there’s any mistakes, this hasn’t been read by anyone else. Feel free to tell me if there is and I’ll fix it!)
Read on AO3
Eddie was desperate to move out when he started University but there was absolutely no way he could afford to do that on his own, so he knew he was going to need to get a roommate. He’d asked one of the guys he worked with, Bill, if he knew of anyone looking for a roommate- thankfully he did and suggested his friend, Richie.
The first time he met Richie, Eddie was very apprehensive about living with the guy- he didn’t seem particularly responsible, can he be trusted to pay rent on time? Plus he kept making crude jokes about having sex with Eddie’s Mom. Regardless, Eddie had no other options and needed to get out of his house as soon as possible.
When they first moved in together, Richie had told Eddie about him being gay almost immediately to avoid making things awkward later down the line and Eddie hadn’t had a problem with it.
Over the course of them living together, almost a year, Eddie had grown to really like Richie- sure he could be intense and never knew when to shut his mouth but he was funny and made Eddie feel comfortable- even if he did have an unhealthy obsession with jokes about screwing Eddie’s mom, although recently there was a shift in their dynamic.
Eddie wasn’t homophobic, or at least he didn’t think he was, it’s super cliched but most of his friends are queer and he never had any issue with them, however whenever he walked in on his roommate making out with some dude on the couch or escorting a guy out the flat the morning after Eddie experienced a feeling of disgust in the pit of his stomach.
He had absolutely no reason to feel like this, god knows he’d accidentally witnessed his friends doing much worse (seeing Stan straddling Mike was an image he desperately wished he could erase from his memory) but he’d never experienced this kind of reaction towards anyone else.
Eddie wasn’t too sure when he first started to feel this way but it was apparent that Richie was starting to notice. About a week ago he had come home early from a lecture to see some guy sitting on the couch, sipping at a can of coke, the guy nodded when he noticed Eddie come in and got up to greet him. “Hey, I’m Kyle.” He said with a smile, holding out his hand.
“Eddie.” He said bluntly, with no intention of taking the man’s hand- merely looking at it before placing his keys on the table beside him. When ‘Kyle’ realised that Eddie wasn’t going to shake him hand he awkwardly pulled his arm back, and rubbed the back of his neck, feeling a bit uncomfortable. He coughed before speaking again “Um, Richie’s just stepped out to pick up some pizza and snack for the movie, he should be back soon.”
Eddie just looked at him for a moment. He wasn’t sure why but he felt an overwhelming sense of hatred for this guy, it’s not like he did anything to deserve this reaction but Eddie couldn’t help it- he utterly despised the guy. “Cool.” His voice oozed with condescension. He picked up his charger and a book from the coffee table before walking into his room, shutting the door behind him, leaving Kyle to wonder what he’d done wrong.
...
Later than night, Eddie left his room to make himself something to eat. When he saw Richie standing with the flat door open with Kyle on the other side of it he breathed a sigh of relief. Finally. He wasn’t sure why he cared so much about Kyle being here, he’s just glad that he’s leaving.
He heard the front door close and he turned to Richie with a grin, although his smile was only met with furrowed brows and down-turned lips. “Why were you a dick to Kyle?”
Eddie thought for a moment, unsure “I, um… I really don’t know, I guess I was just in a bad mood or something.” He suddenly felt awful for how he’s treated Kyle, he hadn’t meant to upset Richie, so he moved to open the fridge to avoid his gaze, not really aware of what he was looking for.
Richie, clearly unhappy with that answer, shifted his weight and let out a heavy breath. Eddie could feel Richie’s gaze on him but made no effort to turn around and meet it, there’s an uncomfortable silence for a moment before Richie speaks up again. “Do you have a problem with me fucking guys or something?”
Eddie whipped round to face the other boy. “N-no, not at all! It’s not like that, I-”
“Then what’s your fucking problem then?” Richie was visibly upset but trying to hide it behind anger.
Eddie didn’t know what to say, he couldn’t tell Richie that he had just hated Kyle- and every other guy he brought home for that matter- with a burning passion without sounding just a little bit homophobic and a big bit ridiculous. “I don't have a problem. Whoever you choose to sleep with is private, it's none of my business.” Eddie watched his converse covered toes as he replied.
Richie scoffed. “What-fucking-ever.” He roughly rubs his face before storming towards his room. He came out a second later, shoving on a hoodie and pulling his satchel over his head. “I’m staying with Bill tonight.”
“Richie-”
“Don’t.” Richie cut him off, stopping at the front door gripping the handle. “So, you’ll be okay if I fuck Bill, as long as I don’t do it here, right?” his voice dripped with venom but his eyes showed clear hurt. Eddie doesn’t get a chance to reply before Richie storms out, slamming the door behind him.
…
A week later and he’d barely spoken to or even seen Richie. He had come home the next night, not saying a word to Eddie and only really coming out of his room to eat before leaving again.
Eddie had tried to apologise once, only to have Richie slam his bedroom door in Eddie’s face- so he thought it best to just leave him alone for a while. But that was a week ago, and he was getting anxious. What if Richie never speaks to him again? He’s really lost for what to do so decides to ask for some advice.
Stan and Mike, two of his closest friends, now sat in front of him in his and Richie’s shared living room, he was filling them in on the situation. At first, he was apprehensive about telling them considering they’re both queer and dating each other- he didn’t want them to think he was homophobic- but he knows that they would never judge him (or at least Mike wouldn’t).
“... and then he left. He came back the next night but he hasn’t spoken to me since.” Eddie pauses for a second. “So, how do I deal with this? I never thought I was homophobic, but just the thought of Richie’s sex life makes me uncomfortable.” Grimace twists onto his face as he says it.
Stan and Mike share a knowing look but neither speak up.
Eddie notices “What?” Mike opens his mouth to speak but changes his mind. “What is it?” Eddie’s clearly agitated now.
Stan speaks up. “Are you… Are you sure that what you’re feeling isn’t jealousy? I mean, it only seems to bother you about Richie specifically.”
“What am I supposed to be jealous of?” Eddie thinks. “He definitely has a more active sex life than I do, but it seems kind of irrational for me to react like this over that.”
“Yeah,” Mike says, “but maybe… you don’t like seeing Richie with other people, not because you don’t like him being with guys but because you want to be the guy he’s with?”
Oh.
“So you think… I want to… date Richie…?”
The pair nod cautiously.
oh…
oh
Oh…
It sort of makes sense, he’s never really had a crush on anyone before so he kind of just presumed that he was straight (which was really dumb of him, come to think of it).
“Oh my god!” Eddie’s words were muffled by his hands covering his face. “What do I do? Do I tell him? But what if he doesn’t feel the same way? I’ll have to move out, get a new apartment. It’d be too awkward to stay. What if-”
“Eddie! Calm down!” Stan says, putting a hand on his shoulder. The other boy looks up at him with glassy eyes. “As uncomfortable as it might be, you should probably speak to him. Give him an explanation for your weird behaviour.”
“You’re right.” He groaned, stuffing his face into a couch pillow. “Why’re you always right?”
Their attention is drawn to the door as it opens. Of course, Richie chooses now to come home.
There’s a noticeable awkward tension in the flat as Richie closes the door behind him and walks over to the fridge. The three boys in the living room watch as Richie riffles for something to eat.
“Um… we’re gonna go…” Stan announces as he stands, grabbing hold of Mike’s hand and dragging him towards the front door. “Bye.”
Mike mouths ‘Good luck’ and gives Eddie a thumbs up before being hauled outside by Stan.
The door slams behind them, the thud echoes before letting a deafening silence descend over the flat. The quiet seems to drag forever before Richie speaks up.
“Your friends left pretty quickly.” he says casually, pulling a cheese string out from the fridge and opening it “They hate me for liking dick too?”
“What? No!” He jumps up off the couch. “I don't! They- they’re together, they’re both queer too.”
Richie steps closer to Eddie, pulling off a strip from his cheese string and tossing it in to his mouth. He chuckles lightly. “So it’s just me liking dick you have a problem with?”
“No! Y-yes, sort of.” Eddie is clearly flustered, not sure how to word how he’s feeling. He wished he could have spent some time thinking about what he was going to say before doing this.
Richie tosses his snack onto the coffee table as he moves closer to Eddie again, closing the gap between them. “What do you mean, Eds?”
Without really thinking, Eddie roughly grabs Richie’s cheeks to pull him forwards and smashes their lips together. The kiss is brief and a little awkward but it gets his point across. There’s a pause for a second, Eddie watches as Richie gently touches his lips before looking up at the other boy.
“I don’t have a problem with you liking guys. As long as I’m the guy you like.”
Richie breaths out a small laugh. “I can live with that.” He smiles, bringing his hand up to the back of Eddie’s neck, carefully running his thumb over his skins.
They’re still for a moment, taking each other in, before Richie moves down to connect their lips for a much gentler kiss.
Hopefully, the first of many.
...
Send me a prompt, if you fancy
#reddie#richie tozier#eddie kaspbrak#stanlon#stan uris#stanley uris#mike hanlon#bill denbrough#my stuff#fanfic#roommates au#college au#homophobia mention#richie x eddie#eddie x richie
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Part 2 (Part 1)
AU - Between episodes 3x05 and 3x06 of Gotham, instead of Oz being the one to realise how he really feels about Edward, it’s Ed that comes to that conclusion. Now it’s the following day and Ed is trying to confirm what his feelings really are for the other man by facing his problem head on.
Edward Nygma x Oswald Cobblepot - Gotham AU
It was a good job Edward was particularly organised when it came to his work, or this morning would have been a disaster. Despite wanting to cling to the many distractions the role of Chief of Staff could offer, he found he couldn’t keep his attention focused on anything for more than a couple of minutes at a time. But that was fine, because he was already ahead of his to-do list. Oswald’s schedules for the day had been pre-prepared of course, written in advance the day before, and checking through them earlier that morning had only taken a couple of seconds. The files for the city clerk only needed a couple of signatures and then they were done, and Ed had been tinkering with the little ‘gift’ for Nicky the Nail for days now, so that was all ready to go as well.
Which meant when Edward found himself lazily gazing out of the window behind his desk instead of actively doing... anything else, he didn’t have to feel too guilty for not working. The sound of a cough did make him jump though, as one of Oswald’s staff members demanded his attention from where she was hovering at the end of his desk. He found himself clearing his throat self-consciously and turning towards the files she’d come to pick up without acknowledging the fact he may have been slightly daydreaming when she’d walked in.
“These go directly to the city clerk’s office,” he began, pushing the necessary papers into an envelope and handing them over to her, before turning to the more interesting delivery. “And this...” he said slowly, trying to ensure he didn’t shake the strange wooden box too much as he placed it down in front of her. His hands stayed protectively on the top of his little creation as he listed off instructions for her, attempting to get the sense of urgency across to the woman about its contents through just his tone (although the large wick sticking out of the side of it may have given that away already). “Leave this outside Nicky the Nail’s place. Knock twice. Light it. And then run.”
He finally removed his fingers as she went to pick up the box, only responding with a confused, “Okay...” but then this wasn’t the strangest task she’d been asked to do in this job so far anyway. He was just about to turn back to the remaining papers on his desk, now nothing but Oswald’s schedules really, when he heard the sound of footsteps approaching, with a very familiar lob-sided gait, and he glanced up again to see the Mayor entering the room.
And Ed’s heart stopped for a moment.
Oh dear.
Well.
That was quite powerful evidence, wasn’t it?
Oswald had made it all the way over to Ed’s desk before he’d managed to do anything more than stare at the advancing figure with an almost dazed expression on his features, and it had clearly been noted. “Good morning my Chief of Staff. Is something the matter?”
Though it was clearly too late to act ‘normal’, Ed jumped to his feet quickly with the two schedules in hand, hoping to make up for the time he’d lost in wondering why the hell his heart had suddenly begun beating faster once it had deigned to start up again. There was nothing different about Oswald today than any other day, there was nothing new, nothing special about this meeting compared to any other - except for what he’d been dwelling on all of last night. Had he just talked himself into this reaction? Had he got himself so wrapped up in figuring out this mystery that the adrenaline of getting close to an answer had spiked such a physical response?
Or was it really just as simple as seeing his best friend in a different light for the first time? Were the butterflies in his stomach the same ones he’d felt every time he’d laid eyes on a pretty girl back in high school? This was the reaction he’d been looking for after all, wasn’t it? When he’d been concocting a plan this very morning to identify the true reason for his insomnia, it was this exact response he’d been expecting if the answer was in fact love. And even he could tell his vague attempts to brush it off as something else were weak and desperate. But still, fighting it felt better than just accepting the truth.
It couldn’t be the truth.
But what other options were there for why his chest felt so tight he could barely breathe as he met the increasingly worried gaze of his friend? “No, sorry, I just, didn’t sleep very well last night. So I’m a little bit slow today, my apologies Mr Mayor.” It wasn’t the strongest excuse in the world, but it wasn’t exactly a lie either, and his mind was running too sluggishly to come up with anything better.
“Are you sure? I told you we should have taken you to a doctor, I will kill Butch the next time I see him!��� Oswald’s concern quickly shifted into anger as he latched on to Ed’s apology with enough vigour to make the taller man breath a silent sigh of relief.
It caused Ed to smile a little too though: he still wasn’t quite used to someone defending him so ardently like that. It was... nice. “I have your schedules for the day,” he continued, hoping to breeze back into work talk as though there was nothing at all different about today. He handed over the two thin bundles of paper as he spoke, explaining, “This covers your duties as mayor, and this as kingpin of the underworld.”
That seemed to be enough to distract Oswald for now, who frowned slightly at the quick change of subject but otherwise let his gaze run down the list of activities for the day. “You really are settling into your role here, aren’t you Ed?” the mayor said, almost proudly, as he smiled up at the taller man.
And again, Ed just melted.
He tried to return the smile, but he seemed to have lost any control over his jaw, so his lips just sort of twitched into vaguely the right shape instead. And his exhale was almost audible, the slightest hint of a sigh carried out on it as though he’d deflated with the action. He hadn’t felt so overwhelmed by something as simple as a smile since back in the GCPD whenever Kristen had voluntarily come over to talk to him. And even then, this felt different. He’d been clinging to something he knew wasn’t quite there with Kristen, trying to extend every moment she was in his company because he knew she didn’t quite want to be there. In hindsight, it had been a little desperate and she’d obviously seen that. But Oswald wanted to be here, wanted to talk to him, and that smile had been genuine, and h-
“Ed?” Oswald looked concerned again, more so than last time now, and Ed internally cursed at himself for being the cause of that expression. He hadn’t realised how long he’d been staring in silence, again, how long he’d been lost in his own thoughts. It was a fairly common occurrence for him, and it had annoyed people for years, the way he would stay focused on a task or a train of thought even while someone tried to speak to him. But he’d been making a very conscious effort not to do that around Oswald - the man was important enough to demand all of his attention after all.
“Sorry, I was, distracted again, I was just thinking about what you said about Butch.” Again, it was a stretch, but he wasn’t about to explain what he really was thinking about. The evidence was practically undeniable by this point, but until he had decided on a follow up course of action, he was going to ignore it with all of his might. “I... came up empty tracking him down.” It suddenly felt so much harder to say what he’d planned to on this topic, and he found himself floundering at the end of his sentence, gaze dropping to the floor like maintaining eye contact was too difficult. He knew failing at the task was letting Oswald down, and ever since he’d started putting out feelers for Butch’s location he’d been more bothered by that fact than by his own fury at letting the brainless oaf slip away from him. It certainly didn’t help that his morning had not been half as productive in that field as he’d hoped, what with his inability to stay focused on any one task for more than a minute.
Perhaps with a little more effort this afternoon he could do better, but it didn’t look promising. And he didn’t want to admit to Oswald that it had been his own lack of motivation this morning that had slowed the process. Who would have thought he would be so preoccupied by something other than tracking down Butch? His fool-proof scheme to catch the man red handed as the leader of the Red Hood Gang had been all-consuming from the moment he’d worked out the secret of that pocket square, and yet now it felt like a distant memory. It meant he’d lost the anger behind the words he’d planned earlier, and instead his tone sounded entirely apologetic. “He managed to disappear somehow, I suspect he’s hiding with his old crew but...” He didn’t openly want to admit that he’d failed a task, but there was no way to easily wiggle out of this one either. “Oswald, I’m so sorry, I’ve let you down, I should have been able to locate him easily, I should hav-”
Oswald didn’t interrupt him often. He certainly had the authority to, and Ed knew to quickly stop talking when that hand was raised to halt his speech, but the Penguin didn’t like to enforce such a thing on his friends. But he recognised the self-destructive loop Ed could get trapped in if given a free enough rein to do so. And hearing him apologise multiple times would do nothing but make both of them feel worse. “Ed, you have done nothing of the sort, not at all. Is this what you’ve been worrying about?” Oz took a step closer to him, placing a comforting hand on his friend’s upper arm. “Butch is a coward if his only plan is to run and hide; we’ll just wait until he surfaces for air and then snatch him out of the ground like a worm. But you have done more than enough for me already in this area, so please, don’t concern yourself with him.”
Honestly, Ed hadn’t heard much after Oswald’s hand had touched his arm, instead trying his hardest not to look down at the gesture as though a wasp had landed there and was waiting to sting at any moment. Again, this was nothing new. Contact like this had happened numerous times before and yet this time he was suddenly struggling to keep his feet on the ground.
Maybe he was sick. Maybe it wasn’t love at all, maybe he was just deathly ill and all these strange reactions were symptoms. It was starting to sound just as plausible as Option A by this point.
“Thank you, Oswald,” he settled on in the end, hoping to cover all bases with such a blanket statement. It got a smile back so it must have worked at least somewhat, and Ed quickly took the opportunity to move them back onto task before his sudden allergic reaction to any sort of proximity with Oswald did anything else to get him in trouble. “We should be going though; you’re touring a school first, and the press will be there so we don’t want to be late.” He made a swift movement past Oswald as soon as his words were out, heading for the door as he heard his friend mutter something about his love of children under his breath. He was out into the corridor before Oswald had taken a step, and took the momentary solitude to breathe an over-dramatic sigh and rub his hands across his face. That was their first meeting of the day, and Oswald’s schedule was busy. There were still hours of time left that Ed had to spend in his company today, and yet he barely seemed capable of holding a conversation with the man at the moment.
Whatever happened, today was going to be long...
#Sig writes#Nygmobblepot#fanfiction#I should probably come up with a name for this AU if I'm going to write more for it =P#I like 'three words eight letters' because it's super cheesy and Ed would definitely announce his love with a crossword clue#Gotham#Gotham AU#Edward Nygma#Oswald Cobblepot#Riddler#Penguin#DC
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