lohstthenfound

[lohstthenfound]

you’re my, my, my lover

[lohstthenfound]

will roland and lauren marcus sing touching my hand at the june 5 post-show hang

[lohstthenfound]

i want you to feel more loved than you ever felt or thought was possible.

[lohstthenfound]

She was lying in bed, just like she had been all day, and shimmery Mary-Kate Olsen was sitting on the foot of it. 

YOU REALIZE HOW PATHETIC YOU’RE BEING RIGHT NOW, RIGHT BROOKIE?

Brooke nodded, hair rubbing against the pillowcase as she did. She needed a shower. She needed to eat. She couldn’t do either of those things.

BECAUSE YOU’RE PATHETIC, WE JUST WENT OVER THIS.

She knew her total silence and inability to move was worrying Rich. He’d been twitchy - HE’S GOING TO BREAK UP WITH YOU, BROOKE. YOU DIDN’T LISTEN TO ME, AND NOW YOU’RE GOING TO BE HEARTBROKEN. - and he didn’t linger too long at her side over the course of the day; he did, however lay a hand on her shoulder and force out a stuttery “I love you” in the afternoon. LIES, BROOKE.

She rolled over and tugged the blanket further up over her face. YOU CAN’T HIDE FROM ME, BROOKE. I’M INSIDE YOUR BRAIN.

It didn’t mean she couldn’t try.

[lohstthenfound]

Good morning and happy friday ☺️

[lohstthenfound]

[lohstthenfound]

“Oh yes way! I know Cute Boy and I’ll answer any and all questions to the best of my abilities.” A hum left his lips at the ensuing queries. “He’s… living in a big city with his beautiful girlfriend and he’s living his best life. Like, he’s feeling the greatest he’s ever felt. And I’d say he’s definitely still cute. Absolutely still cute.” The smile that had been painted across his lips widened at her promise and he nodded. “I believe you. It’d be pretty silly to break up with someone only to immediately start dating them again.” A brief pause ensued before “Surprise! I, Rich Goranski, am the supposed Cute Boy.”

Fingers tugging through his hair again, Rich managed a shrug. “And, from what I can gather, you’re my Cute Braces Girl.” he admitted. “I saw you across the hall a few times between classes and stuff and thought you were really fucking cute but, uh, I was lame back then and the thought of talking to a cute girl terrified me so! I never… said anything. But I admired you from afar.” And he was pretty sure that if he texted his brother asking if he remembered Cute Braces Girl he could 100% attest to the fact that Middle School Rich was way far gone for the super cute girl with the wild hair and braces he passed in the hallway sometimes.

Brooke blinked. “No fucking way.” She looked at Rich, really looked at him, and then back at the picture - she practically shoved her nose in the notebook, trying to see-- 

Yeah, that was Rich’s nose, and half of his smile, and... She looked back up at Rich, and then back to the picture, and back up before shouting “Oh my god! Cute Boy!” and throwing her arms around his neck; she kissed him hard, grinning like a fool. Somehow, miraculously, she had found her cute boy without even knowing. Her heart was a genius and totally knew what was up, even when she didn’t, she guessed. Oh my god, Chloe is gonna lose her mind, this is amazing.

But then she shoved back, breaking the kiss and leaning far enough away that she could clearly see Rich’s face. “Wait, you had a crush on me? When I looked like this?” She waved the picture in his face. “Richie, oh my god. This is so fucking crazy. What are the odds, babe?”

Her thoughts floated back to that time of her life, and she couldn’t help but laugh at the idea of Rich being too scared to talk to her. “Okay, like, I totally get the being terrified to talk to a cute person, ‘cause I was the same way, but Rich I would’ve lost it if you’d asked me to hang out. Like, I would have straight up screeched worse than I did when you actually asked me out.”

[lohstthenfound]

Rich leaned in close, incredibly interested in seeing what sort of mischief baby Brooke and baby Chloe had gotten themselves into through the years. A smile seemed affixed to his features and he vaguely wished that he, too, had embarrassing pictures he could share from moments from a childhood long gone. “Well. Y’know, Mulan is the shit, so like. You both had good taste in backpacks. Mulan bitches gotta stick together.” Absolutely adorable, Rich concluded. No trace of terrible in sight.

Rich nearly snorted at the sight of the shirt in question, a loud laugh leaving his lips. “Oh my god, babe, did you choose that shirt yourself? Please, please, tell me that lil Brooke Lohst saw that shirt with a horse and said ‘yes. perfect. this is the shirt for me!’ God.” It could’ve been worse, of course, but “The yarn mane really fucking makes it.”

And then Brooke hugged the notebook to her and made an announcement before showing him the page she’d turned to. Rich’s heart jumped and a soft gasp left him as he recognized the girl in the picture as the subject of his middle school crush. “No fucking way… Cute Braces Girl?” he murmured. Brooke was Cute Braces Girl? That’s so fucking wild! He’d crushed on her throughout, like, all of middle school and without even knowing he’d gotten to know her throughout high school and now? He was dating cute braces girl?

And while he was still wrapping his head around this discovery, Brooke brought his attention to another figure in the photograph. “Oh, hey! That’s—“ Cute boy? Rich couldn’t help the light grin that quirked his lips. “You had a crush on him?” he asked, one hand lifting to run through his hair. This just kept getting wilder. “Holy shit, babe, that’s… amazing.” He hummed, eyes glinting in that mischievous way as he piped “If you really wanna know what he’s up to, I could tell you. I know your mysterious so-called “cute boy,” babe.”

There was something incredibly comforting about Rich teasing her like this, and she couldn’t help but smile the whole time. “I totally chose that shirt myself,” she admitted quietly. “It was my favorite shirt for like, a solid month. I don’t wanna talk about it.”

Brooke heard Rich mumble something that sounded like “cute braces” and she leaned back, curious. “What about cute braces?”

But before she could get her answer, Rich was dropping a fucking bombshell - “wait, no way, you know Cute Boy? You have to tell me everything. Oh my god. This is amazing. What’s he doing? How is he? What’s his name? Is he still cute? Rich. I can’t believe you know my middle school soulmate.” She giggled a little, excited and nervous and feeling incredibly ridiculous - admittedly, she hadn’t thought about Cute Boy in years; once she started flirting with Rich, her long-term romance fantasies switched to living quietly with him instead of the bizarre, lavish life she’d dreamed up for her and Cute Boy. But part of her had a nostalgic attachment to him, and she could admit that. “I promise I won’t, like, break up with you to go date Cute Boy. I’m way too into you.”

[lohstthenfound]

Rich was sat crosslegged across the way from Brooke, unpacking his own box of bullshit and glancing over whenever Brooke found something interesting. At the mention of Twelfth Night, he made a face. “Ugh, me? Voluntarily read Shakespeare? That shit’s a snooze fest.” Not to mention that the small print in those stupid books and the old English was absolute fucking hell on his dyslexia, but he wasn’t about to mention that.

He went back to digging through the box in front of him, a growing pile if vinyls stacking up on either side, until Brooke called his name and he perked up, glancing over to where she sat, gaze following her as she moved to the couch. He scrambled to his feet, curious, and made his way over. Before Rich could open his mouth to ask the obvious, she spoke up and a grin spread across his face.

Like an eager child waiting to be read a story, Rich made his way onto the couch, settling down beside her. “Oh fuck yes, please. Let me see these so-called “terrible” pictures so I can tell you how cute you actually looked in ‘em. C’mon, let’s see!”

Brooke laughed at how eager Rich seemed, and as soon as he sat next to her she was leaning into his side and opening up the pink notebook. “Okay, so. This was our first day of second grade,” she said, looking at the first page. “We were in the same class and we both had Mulan backpacks so we decided we were gonna be best friends.” The picture was honestly kind of adorable: her and Chloe hugging each other and smiling for Chloe’s mom behind the camera. “This one’s cute, though. Lemme just...”

She flipped through a half-dozen pages, stopping only briefly to smile at the notes Chloe had left and the little doodles she’d squeezed around each picture. She did stop on one photo from “fifth grade - look at this fucking horse shirt I was wearing. Why did anyone let me leave the house in that?”

The year after that was what she was really looking for, though, and as soon as she found it, she stopped and hugged the notebook close to her chest. She wanted a big reveal for what was easily the worst picture of her in existence. “Okay, so, middle school. I got braces in the summer before sixth grade? And then my hair was, like, a fucking nightmare? So. Don’t judge me too harshly. I got my shit together, obviously.”

With that clarification handled, she lowered the notebook and showed him - her and Chloe in matching Aeropostale polo shirts, her in yellow, Chlo in hot pink. Her hair was a gigantic frizzy mess, and her braces were awful. “God. This is so much worse than I remember it being.” Brooke looked a little closer at the picture, laughing at Chloe’s terrible crimped hair - seriously, whoever let crimping be a thing should be imprisoned - before she noticed something else about the picture for the first time.

In the background, slightly out of focus but clear enough to be seen, was the shaggy-haired kid with glasses that she’d been totally in love with all through middle school. “Oh my god! That’s cute boy!” She pointed to the kid excitedly, beaming at the page. “So, like, I had the worst crush on him for years and I never got the nerve to ask his name and we were never in the same class. So I just called him cute boy. Like I had plans to marry that kid, y’know? The way you do when you’re 12 and have a crush?” Sighing, she laid her head on Rich’s shoulder. “I wonder what he’s up to now - I hope he’s good.”

[lohstthenfound]

@putsthebiinbitch

There were no more IKEA boxes scattered around their apartment - all of their furniture, miraculously, had been built and their relationship was intact. The rest of the unpacking, however, was... going a little slower, and there were still loads of boxes of things they needed to take care of. At least the apartment had places to sit and eat that weren’t their bed or the countertop now.

Brooke was sitting on the floor in front of the bookcase, digging through a box she’d so helpfully labeled “random shit” - it was mostly books and CDs and old framed photos, which she sorted out around her. She had a bowl of ice cream balanced on one of her knees, and she kept pausing to eat it.

So yeah, unpacking was going really slow.

She moved a couple of beat-up old paperbacks onto a shelf, leaning them up against the side so they didn’t just fall over. “Oh, shit, I think I totally stole this from Mr. Reyes’ class,” she said, looking over her shoulder towards Rich. “But hey! We totally have a copy of Twelfth Night if you ever wanna read it!”

Taking another bite of her ice cream, she sat up a little bit straighter and looked into the box. “Ugh, this is gonna take forever.”

After another spoonful of ice cream, she set the bowl aside and reached in, grabbing a stack of random notebooks. Why she’d kept her notes from high school, she’d never know; the notebooks got tossed in a haphazard pile behind her to be dealt with later, and she turned back around to look at the last thing in the stack she’d pulled out.

“Oh my god.”

Brooke had forgotten about what Chloe had given her for her 18th birthday - her 18th birthday had kind of been a non-event, considering it was right in the buildup before prom, but Chloe had still brought her balloons and a cupcake to school, using Michael’s lighter to light the candle she’d stuck in the frosting, and she’d handed her a prettily bound notebook.

“Rich, oh my god, you have to look at this.” She stood up and carefully stepped over her empty ice cream bowl and the stacks of stuff she’d built around her, flopping down onto the couch and flipping through the pages. “So when I turned 18, right? Chlo put together a whole, like, scrapbook of our friendship. There are so many terrible pictures of me in here, c’mon, lemme embarrass myself a little.”

[lohstthenfound]

[ you really know how to get someone down ]

Brooke had been trying her hardest to be more positive every day. For years, she’d existed in a near-permanent cloud of negativity – being a popular bitch in high school kind of lent itself to that. But every morning when she woke up, she made a conscious effort to be a little less bitter about everything. She’d left New Jersey behind, she’d gotten away from the past, and she did it all with a man she loved a lot. She was happy. Life was good.

Some days tested her, though, and letting go of the bitterness was a little bit harder.

She checked Facebook while she waited for her tea to brew in the kitchen; she only really cared about the memories from years past, not so much the… everything else. And today it had an unfriendly reminder for her – years and years ago, on this day, Madeline had stolen the guy she’d been talking to. “so sick of fake friends. so glad i have chloe valentine.” her status had said. It was done intentionally to piss Madeline off, and Chloe had hugged her so tight and dragged her over for a long sleepover with lots of rom-coms and ice cream.

Chloe Valentine, her absolute best friend.

Chloe Valentine, who not four months later would be hooking up with Brooke’s first boyfriend, Dustin.

And then the next year, who would be making out with Brooke’s next boyfriend, Jeremy.

Chloe, as much as Brooke loved her, was the ultimate fake friend in high school, and she’d been too lonely and scared to leave her behind, even with all the shit she’d pulled.

She tried to shake off that thought as she went through her day, grocery shopping and applying for jobs online and singing blink-182 loudly at Rich while he tried to focus on something, but the thought was haunting her and wouldn’t leave her be.

She was dwelling on it, which is something she’d told herself she’d never do again.

It shouldn’t have bothered her, Jeremy jokingly implying he’d never done anything wrong. He did that kind of thing all the time, and most of the time, she and Michael and Rich and Jenna would roast him and everyone would laugh and say they loved him and move on. But the bitterness had taken root, and she couldn’t help it.

She snapped. She mentioned the worst night of her life, in front of everyone, just to shut him up.

She didn’t realize Rich would be curious. She didn’t realize Jeremy would cave so easy and tell the entire world something she’d tried so hard to keep secret.

She felt like every nerve had been exposed, raw and vulnerable in a way she hated being. All of these people – all of these random strangers she didn’t give a single shit about – were now getting a blow-by-blow recap of the bullshit she’d been through.

She’d had to put her phone down; she curled up in the corner of the couch, knees pulled close to her chest. Brooke put her walls back up, doing everything she could to protect herself from that horrible raw feeling she hadn’t felt since the day after Halloween junior year.

This is your fault, her brain told her as she watched Rich get more and more worked up. You’re bringing up all these horrible old memories and making life miserable for Rich and Jeremy. This is all you’re good at.

“I’m gonna fucking kick his bitch ass the next time I see him!”

This is why they cheated. Chloe isn’t like this. Chloe wouldn’t bring up junior year. Rich would be better off.

She wordlessly held out her hand, not looking up from where her face was hidden in her knees. “Richie. Please.”

His fingers slipped in between hers, and the contact brought her back to a solid place, a few steps away from where the insecurities were assaulting her from every side.

“I didn’t… want you to find out,” she confessed. “I didn’t want you thinking less of me, or Jeremy, or Chloe. It’s… just a thing that happened. And it sucked, but a lot of high school just sucked.”

“Brooke, hey, I would never think less of you. Never. And I’m not, like, upset or anything that you didn’t tell me.”

He’s too good for you.

“Just… don’t blame them. It’s not Jeremy’s fault. It’s not anyone’s fault, okay? It just... happened. If we're gonna blame anyone here we're gonna blame me for... I don't know. Not being around to stop them or... keeping Chloe around after the first time she hooked up with the guy I wanted or... I don't know. but it's not their fault. If I’d just... been there. Or been enough, Rich, it wouldn’t have...”

Rich squeezed her hand, cutting off her rambling. “It’s not your fault. You aren’t to blame,” he said, voice serious in a way she wasn’t accustomed to. “Brooke, baby, you are enough. You’re so enough. And anyone who doesn’t see that is fucking stupid.”

She looked up, tears in her eyes, and Rich looked so earnest and honest. He really thought that – it wasn’t a line, or something he was saying just because. He believed it.

She lowered her knees – and her walls – and pulled him close, letting the vulnerable feeling back in.

Maybe, even if it was just for this quiet moment on their couch, she could believe that she really was enough for once.

[lohstthenfound]

[some high school-centric headcanons for brooke!]

her and jeremy did date for about two months leading up to halloween in their junior year.

she was, like, super into jeremy. she didn’t see them getting married or anything like that, but she could see them going to prom together, which was the big thing for her back then.

she told chloe how into him she was. chlo still pulled that bs on halloween. but brooke never held a grudge because chloe was her best friend and she really didn’t have anyone else.

she’s never told rich any of this.

jeremy was - and still is - incredibly apologetic. she doesn’t blame him. she doesn’t blame chloe. she just wants to forget about it.

she kind of encouraged rich’s general asshole-ery in high school? like she thought it was kinda funny. she feels pretty guilty about that, even if she treasures all the little quiet moments they had together in high school.

she used to skip class to smoke with rich and whatever girl he was hooking up with that week and sometimes jeremy. they’d hide in the bushes and get high and sometimes make out. this normally happened while she was in french or english, which is why those were always her lowest grades.

she is one of three people from their friend group in jersey that jeremy has opened up about his mental health with - her (because everything he did to her could never be justified, but he wanted to explain himself), christine (the nicest person any of them have ever met), and michael (duh). she’s honored, and that’s why she’s so protective of him even after everything.

rich and her went to prom together as the only two without plans. it was a blast. the whole squad spent most of the night dancing with each other and floating around in different combinations, but they were the ones who spent the most time together (aside from michael and jeremy).

her only job in high school was babysitting. she’s great with kids as a result.

her dad got her a car on her 17th birthday - she always assumed it was because he knew the divorce had wrecked her.

her parents divorced around valentine’s day in her junior year.

her mom doesn’t keep in touch that much - she’s off traveling a bunch, and she sends postcards when she can. her dad is just... not good at being a dad. he loves her to the moon and back, but he’s just not meant to be a parent. her parents are loving and she know that they might suck at being good parents but they’re not abusive and she likes them well enough. they’re just more like... a cool aunt and uncle and not her mom and dad.

her car currently lives in their apartment building’s lot. it barely gets used. this summer, though, she’s stealing rich from everyone and they’re driving to the lake house for a week alone together. (then she’s going to invite michael and jeremy up to join them. maybe josh if he and chris want.)

she wasn’t around for The Fire itself, but she still hates being around large fires anyway. small, controlled campfires are fine, but anything bigger or more chaotic see her anxiety off.

she’s scared by her own capacity for cruelty. she knows she was a bitch in high school. she hates that.

she carries a lot of residual guilt from high school with her, even now. she’s trying very hard to leave all that behind because she’s becoming a better person, but it haunts her still.

she went to community college for a year (because most of her friends went to college right out of high school) before she dropped out. she felt like she wasn’t getting anything out of it, and that it wasn’t for her. she refuses to be ashamed about this no matter what her mom says. her dad was fine with it and helped her get a job at his office instead.

[lohstthenfound]

rich goranski // be more chill

“Rich was under a lot of pressure at home. With his SQUIP disabled due to the alcohol, it seems he lacked the proper… coping mechanism.”

[lohstthenfound]

[ i’ll fight the doubt & give you faith ]

There were still more boxes than actual pieces of furniture in their apartment, more than half of the stuff they’d picked up at IKEA still untouched against the far wall of what would eventually become the living room. They’d built a bookcase – that was easy enough, a good place to start, or at least that was their logic – and part of the afternoon had been spent unpacking the boxes of movies and books and her tiny little vinyl collection she’d started a year ago. The place was starting to look like home; it had felt like home the moment they’d closed the door and sat on the floor, kissing through Brooke’s happy tears. They were (very) slowly but surely making the place someplace two young adults lived.

Now, though, Brooke was in the kitchen, dancing to a playlist they’d made together when they’d first started dating – they’d kept adding onto it as time went on, and it was Brooke’s go-to most days. She was making pancakes for dinner, just because she could. She dumped some (okay, way too many) chocolate chips into the bowl of batter, stirring them in as she shook her hips to the beat of the blink-182 song that was playing – a song Rich had picked out that she’d fallen in love with. It reminded her of late summer nights spent anywhere but at home; they’d driven out to the shore one night they’d both felt particularly bad, and they’d put this playlist on and sat on the hood of her car under the stars. They held hands quietly, neither of them really talking, until she’d mustered up the courage to say “I love you.”

They hooked up in the backseat shortly after that, and she definitely cried, and it was probably the best night of her life so far – not that that was a high bar to clear, but still. It was a great memory in an otherwise not-so-great time.

The song ended, and a Taylor Swift song came on – Rich loved Taylor Swift more than Brooke did, and it was one of the things on her very long list of Things Brooke Loves About Rich Goranski. She kept singing along, turning around to look at Rich, see if he was enjoying this as much as she was.

And when she did, she caught Rich staring at her with the most incredulous smile on his face.

Oh, wow.

Her voice faded away, and the bowl of batter got forgotten for a moment; the Rich across the room from her wasn’t the Rich she went to high school with. His expression was soft and full of light and happiness in a way she’d never really get used to. For so long, Rich had always put up so many walls, surrounded himself with a cloud of standoffish anger, kept everyone at arm’s length if he didn’t push them away totally. She’d always been fine with that, being just cool with Rich in high school; they weren’t all that alike, but he was funny, and he was never outright mean to her. Chloe was meaner to her, and that was her best fucking friend. But then The Fire had happened, and once Rich had come back to school, he’d been different.And she and Jake were the first ones to wrap him up in hugs and welcome him back to their table in the cafeteria.

Soft Rich was still a rare thing, right up until they started going on dates. But god, once she saw Soft Rich, she was hooked. It was moments like this, with him just smiling at her, that she was reminded that Rich’s Big Heart was one of the reasons she loved him more than anything. He had so much love to give, and he was finally starting to allow himself to do it. She wanted nothing more than to make Rich look that soft and happy and peaceful every day for the rest of forever.

Rich’s smile got a little bigger and he laughed. “Brooke, you good?”

It was then that she realized she’d been standing there, staring at him, half-mixed pancake batter in the bowl on her hip. “Oh, uh.” She put the bowl down on the counter next to her and nodded. “Yeah, just… thinking.”

“’Bout what?”

She took a few steps forward and placed one hand on his chest, the other cupping his cheek gently. “Just about how proud of you I am,” she said, voice soft as Taylor Swift played on. “You’re, like, so much lighter right now. And I know that that’s definitely a little bit because we’re out of fucking Jersey, but… you’ve been getting better for years now. And you’ve come so, so, so far. If I didn’t know you, baby, I would think you and the old Rich were two totally different guys.”

With that, she leaned forward to give him a quick kiss; she hated bringing up Old Rich, and she always felt like she had to apologize for it somehow. She figured a couple soft kisses would help chase the horrible feelings that came with discussing the past away. “But I’m lucky enough that I do know you, and I know how hard you’re trying. And you’re kicking ass, Richie. Every single day you get better and you let that huge heart of yours shine through, and I just… really love you.” Brooke closed her eyes and took a deep breath, fighting back the tears that were definitely already threatening to fall. “You’re amazing. And I don’t want you forgetting that, okay?”

Rich kissed her, a little more forcefully than she had kissed him, and she melted into it. Rich was perfect for her; it was in the way that his hands settled on her hips and pulled her close, and the way he coaxed her mouth open to kiss her thoroughly for just a second before pulling away and leaving her wanting more. “I love you,” was all he managed to say, and she leaned forward to press their foreheads together. He mumbled it again, and Brooke swallowed it with a kiss of her own.

They stood there in their little bubble of peace until a loud Green Day song startled them both, and Brooke jumped out of her skin. Rich laughed at her, and she swiped at his chest but let him kiss her one more time.

“C’mon,” she said, one of her hands slipping down to take Rich’s and tangle their fingers together. “Fuck unpacking - help me finish these pancakes so we can eat. The boxes’ll still be there later. Be domestic and gross with me for a little.”

Rich picked up the bowl of batter that they’d been ignoring, smiling that beautiful, soft smile at her and making her melt all over again. “Anything for you, babe.”

[lohstthenfound]

brooke lohst in “the pitiful children” music video