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kafka-ish · 4 years

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the act of being a boy-friend | r.t.

y/n’s plan to make her crush, or ex crush, jealous backfires when she realizes she’s been the jealous one all along.

word count: 6.7k

warnings/included: fluff, losers aren’t friends anymore, fem!reader

a/n: i just rlly love writing love triangles hgeoigso also fake dating tropes ftw🥳

“What’s ruh-ruh-wrong? Juh-juh-hust tell me what I can do, and I’ll ff-fix it.” Bill sat next to y/n on his worn sofa. The two were watching a movie but he couldn’t put a pin on what was wrong until he noticed y/n wasn’t making her usual commentary. y/n always talked whenever they got together to watch a movie—either letting her petty remarks be known to the rest of the viewers or judging the style choice. And if she wasn’t talking, her face was stuffed full of popcorn or sour candy.

But y/n wasn’t doing either of those things.

She sat in a ball—her bare feet on his couch and her kneecaps digging into her stomach. Her eyes were wide and focused on the screen ahead of them that blared ET. Her nails that were in tip-top condition when she first showed up to Bill’s house, neatly trimmed and polished with a layer of topcoat were now bitten to the bed, ragged and raw.

“Why would you think something’s wrong?” y/n said, surprised that she was able to even squeak out the words after zoning out for so long. Something was wrong. But it wasn’t like y/n would tell him. This is what she wanted, right? Just the two of them—Bill’s arm wrapped around her while she pressed into his side while the only light in the room came from his television set.

So why did everything feel so wrong?

Richie and y/n had dated two months prior. Well… ‘dated’. The relationship wasn’t real, but the butterflies whenever Richie called her a dumb pet name or kissed her on the cheek (because kissing on the lips was too far) certainly felt real. And the heartbreak that came from him talking about other girls felt more real than the time y/n got stood up at the eighth-grade dance.

“I don’t wanna be your fuckin’ boyfriend,” Richie protested. His mouth was full of the turkey club sandwich he snagged from a detention buddy and his perfectly straight nose was now scrunched in disgust at the absurd idea his friend had to offer.

“I don’t get why you’re being so pissy about this.” y/n took the sandwich from him, taking a bite of her own and cringing at the taste of mustard that was hidden under the lettuce.

“Grow up.” Richie laughed at y/n who was using a napkin to wipe the tangy aftertaste off her tongue. “You know.” He took another bite. “This sorta shit never ends well.”

“What shit?” y/n prodded. She was still hooked on the idea of getting Richie to play house with her.

“The game where you and I pretend to be boyfriend and girlfriend and eventually one of us falls for each other.” Richie was taking an oddly rational approach to y/n’s suggestion. But Richie was logical in a sense where he just knew.

“Who says I’d fall for you?” y/n poked at his shoulder. One of her eyebrows raised because in what world would she let herself catch feelings for Richie Tozier?

In this world. In this lifetime, y/n would let herself fall for one of her best friends, only to be dating her longtime crush.

“How could you not?” Richie smirked but y/n could tell he was just joking. “I’m irresistible, love.” His stupid British-man Voice made yet another appearance and y/n had to refrain from hitting him.

“What about me?” y/n didn’t care whether or not Richie found her attractive, but to say his response never left her mind after that day would be an understatement.

“Well, just look at you.” Richie put the sandwich down. “If it’s anyone, I’ll be having a harder time.”

“So does that mean you’ll go through with it?” A new light hit y/n’s eyes; the sparkle almost blinding Richie who was shaking his head.

“I don’t get why you’re so hung up about this.” He sighed. y/n could tell he was getting annoyed, but y/n was also persistent. If she wanted something, she’d get it; careless about the lengths she’d have to go through for her fantasies to become a truth. Her truth.

“I’m just saying there are benefits for both of us.” y/n’s head tilted to the side, trying to get a better glimpse at Richie now gnawing at his lunch like an animal.

“Benefits?” Richie asked mid-bite.

“Yeah. I can make Bill Denbrough jealous and he’ll fall madly in love with me. Same for you and your ex.”

“Bill Denbrough?” Richie ignored the mention of his ex-girlfriend. He was fifty-percent sure he was already over her, but the other fifty percent of him still stole glances in her direction and kept a copy of her school picture in his wallet. But Bill Denbrough? y/n had a crush on the Bill Denbrough? Richie had to take a moment for his ears to adjust to this staggering news.

Bill Denbrough was a baseball player and Richie’s old childhood friend. Him, Bill, Stan Uris (who was coincidentally also on Derry’s baseball team), Mike Hanlon (who didn’t play baseball but football), Ben Hanscom (he was on the track team), Eddie Kaspbrak, and Beverly Marsh were all a group back in middle school. And Bill and Richie went way back—back to elementary school. It was until the end of freshman year when Stan tried out for baseball (Bill tagged along but made the team anyway) and Mike brought up how he wanted to go out for football next year.

Everyone’s interests started to diverge. Everyone started to diverge. They still went to Mike’s games at the beginning of their sophomore year, but their lunches together only seemed to happen on Wednesday and their afternoon hangouts at the quarry turned into just Richie smoking puffs on the edge; the only company being his portable radio.

Richie befriended y/n sophomore year, around the same time he and his friends fizzed out in January’s crisp air. He met her in his new art class when Derry High released students’ new schedules for the second semester. They’d stayed friends ever since; sharing their lunches and staying after school to finish up on a Social Studies project that wasn’t worth the grade they received. y/n was the one to comfort Richie after his breakup with Vanessa Jennings, but this was the first Richie had ever heard of y/n’s crush on Bill. He didn’t even know she knew Bill.

“You like Bill Denbrough?”

y/n nodded. “So, what do you say? Partner…”

Richie gave in. Although it wasn’t in his interest to get back with Vanessa, he’d still go along with y/n’s scheme.

He’d pick her up at her house before school at seven o’clock sharp—whether it was in his dad’s old Chevy or by foot in his red Converse.

y/n rushed to her front door as soon as she heard a ring. Her hair was half done, and she hadn’t had enough time to do her makeup yet. Luckily, she was already dressed in her school clothes—the denim of her jeans scuffing together when she walked, and her red blouse having to be pulled down every time she rose her arms.

“Morning, sugar.” Richie’s lazy grin and tired eyes never failed to bring a smile on her face even before they started ‘dating’. His hair wasn’t brushed at all, making y/n feel better about her appearance. His body leaned slanted against the doorframe while he waited for her and the white tip of his Converse made its attempt to dig into the porch.

“Sugar?” y/n asked, bemused. She grabbed her keys from the table next to the door, using them to lock the door behind her.

“You look different today.” y/n’s head raised from its once concentrated position from the lock on her door.

“Different how?” She inquired, mostly wondering if this difference was a good or bad thing.

“You look good.” y/n’s cheeks couldn’t help but heat at the compliment. Richie was always calling her cutesy names or saying shit like actually, now that my glasses are on, your ass does look good in those jeans. This should be no different, right?

It only felt different because they were… an item is what y/n convinced herself somewhere along the drive to school. Richie opened the door for her when she got in (and out), but in return, she’d have to let him play his favorite station.

“it’s only courtesy, babe.” Richie shrugged but his eyes kept on the road. “I scratch your back, you scratch mine.”

But two weeks in, y/n found out she liked what this rock ‘n roll guy had to offer. She liked the loud beat of the drum and how the guitar sang in her ears. She liked Richie’s voice that overpowered Elvis’s when he sang along to the lyrics, knowing every word by heart.

“I don’t get why you’re taking me anywhere,” y/n said. She sat in the passenger’s seat of his car like she usually did. “We don’t have to pretend unless we’re, like, in public.” Her voice became small, almost regretting the words that came out of her mouth. Secretly, she hoped Richie wouldn’t turn the 1965 Chevrolet Camaro around.

“It’s not like we aren’t friends.” Richie’s thumb made a tap, tap, tapping sound against the steering wheel. “Friends hang out, right?”

y/n smiled but didn’t answer. It never occurred to her that they weren’t dating. After a while, it just seemed so natural; the hand holding under lunch tables; the way he held her binder for her.

“Is that heavy, sweetheart?” Richie stood next to y/n, intently watching as she struggled with her books in one arm: her other hand turning the combination lock. His gaze never left her figure. He was thoughtful, caring…

“Kind of, but you don’t need to—”

Ignoring y/n, Richie took the books from her hold. He already had books of his own to carry, but he couldn’t let his girlfriend struggle with hers.

“Yeah… friends.” y/n couldn’t seem to face him while uttering the words. Friends. The declaration felt so distant. After all, they had been more than friends—or pretending to be more than friends. But at the end of the day, y/n didn’t know if she wanted to be just friends with Richie Tozier. That was new considering, she never saw Richie as something else. Something that greeted her with flowers before school and held open the door for her. Not until now, no. Richie was always… Richie.

Richie Tozier who was always caught doing his homework last minute in art—because that’s the easiest class, babe. Richie Tozier who liked detention because he could catch up on a few extra minutes of lost beauty sleep. Richie Tozier who stopped bringing his lunch to school because you’re the only sugar I need.

y/n rolled the window down, letting a breeze sweep through her hair and tickle her skin. She needed a distraction because the recent epiphany of the boy next to her being the reason for her heart palpitations was something to need a distraction from.

The sky bled orange and purple—the colors perfectly melted into one another—and y/n wondered if this wasn’t their world after all. Maybe they were being controlled and the puppeteer behind her was playing some sick joke by making her catch feelings for Richie Tozier. y/n didn’t even notice they came to a stop until the click of Richie’s seatbelt grabbed her ears from their trance.

“You comin’?” Richie asked from outside of her side of the car. He was hunched down, his forearm resting on the door to help prop him up.

“Yeah.” y/n swallowed but it hurt. It felt like acid ripped through her esophagus but the only thing she had to drink that day was water. She reached for the door handle, but Richie was faster, already opening the door himself. “Such a gentleman,” y/n snickered.

“Of course.” Richie stayed behind to lock the doors.

“So, you drove me, just a friend, all the way out to the best milkshakes in town?” y/n asked, eyeing the neon-lit sign that read

Hwy 90

The highway to your stomach.

They served other things, but they specialized in milkshakes—something neither Richie nor y/n would care to pass up. But nothing y/n would drive thirty minutes for just for some glorified ice cream in a glass.

“It’s the least I could do.” Richie opened the door for y/n once again. The entrance door to the diner made a jingling sound as the top corner hit the bells which hung from the ceiling.

“The least you could do?” y/n wondered aloud, but Richie wasn’t given the chance to answer her question when a waitress scurried up to them, a stack of menus in one arm and a bundle of silverware in the other. She was taller than y/n but shorter than Richie and she wore black and white bowling shoes to match the wide-legged jeans and polo underneath her apron. “Is it just you two?” She asked sweetly, hiking the pile of menus up higher on her arm.

“Yeah,” Richie said. He stuffed his hands in his back pocket, not knowing where to put them.

The waitress showed them to a small booth that sat in the corner of the brightly lit restaurant. It was too bright for y/n’s eyes under the red, blue, and pink hues that reflected across the shiny white tile, But the corner table the girl had brought them to would do. There was a certain coziness to it, or maybe it was the thought of sitting so close to Richie in a public setting that settled y/n’s eyes.

“I’m Annie. I’ll be your server today,” the girl said as soon as Richie and y/n slid into their respective sides of the red pleather seats. She was fast-talking and all shades of nervousness as her left hand went to grab the number two pencil that fastened the blonde curls that were pinned in a knot on top of her head. “Can I get you anything?”

“A menu would be nice,” y/n said. In front of them sat a table, salt and pepper shakers, and a half-empty Heinz ketchup bottle. Annie had forgotten to give the two a menu.

“My apologies!” She exclaimed, bashful. She handed them each a menu to sift through.

“Don’t sweat it.” Richie winked in her direction and y/n felt herself grow… what was that? Anger? Annie’s pale skin blushed a bright red and y/n could tell it wasn’t the apron making her feel hot.

It took Richie a full-fledged thirty seconds and two skims through the laminated paper for him to decide what he wanted, and it took y/n at least two minutes. “I’ll have a Cookies n Cream. Extra sweet.” Just like you.

y/n was biting her thumb and still reading over the same three flavors that caught her eye while Annie stood patiently waiting for her response. Richie was messing with the saltshaker. His leg found hers under the table and gave it a quick kick.

“Ouch.” She looked up from the menu, averting her attention to the boy in front of her with a fix glare. “Can I have Vanilla? With a cherry on top?”

Annie scribbled down both of their orders in messy writing before making her way across the floor and to the kitchen.

“Vanilla?” Richie laughed and y/n didn’t know what was so funny. “’Cause you’re vanilla?” He covered his mouth with his hand before another fit of laughter would consume the table.

“Shut up.” Swiftly, y/n’s leg propelled into his which caused Richie’s laughs to die down, replaced by a single yelp.

“So…” Richie’s eyebrows wiggled. His nails, which were painted a shade of deep blue by y/n and already chipped, thumped against the surface of the table. y/n could tell whatever he was beginning to suggest wouldn’t be something she liked just from the tone of his voice.

“So?”

“Why Bill?” Oh.

“I don’t know what you mean.” She knew exactly what he meant.

“Why do you like ole Big Bill?” The nickname had slipped out unconsciously. The nickname Richie hadn’t heard in years. The nickname Richie hadn’t said in years. It felt exotic on his lips, but comforting, like a hug from his mom.

Why did she like Bill? y/n asked herself silently. She was gnawing on the inside of her cheek when the question popped up again and the sound of Bill’s voice startled her.

“What’s ruh-ruh-wrong? Juh-juh-hust tell me what I can do, and I’ll ff-fix it.” What was wrong? Seemingly, everything was perfect. The boy y/n had been crushing on for years was finally in her reach—her grasp, even. Bill’s head turned to face y/n, but his arm stayed tightly coiled around her side. It wasn’t the same as Richie’s possessive hold from two months ago. His hand that played with the fabric of her shirt felt cold. Bill felt cold.

It couldn’t be that she missed Richie, no. Richie was busy—probably swapping spit with one Vanessa Jennings. Vanessa with the light brown hair and curls that framed her not-too-big head ever so perfectly. Vanessa who never needed a tan. Vanessa with the long legs that were probably wrapped—

But it didn’t matter. y/n was busy, too. The Bill Denbrough was at her side and she couldn’t have asked for anything else. She didn’t need anything else. Not when his red flannel hugged her torso because are you could? My parents won’t let me turn up the heat, but I can offer you this. Like a gentleman, he proceeded to strip the flannel from his bodice, leaving him in a white baseball tee.

“Why would you think something’s wrong?” y/n looked at Bill then looked down to see the nails she had just painted were now ruined. She looked up again. “Nothing’s wrong,” she assured, not all convincingly.

“You just… yo-you ha-haven’t-t s-s-said anything since you cuh-cuh-walked in.”

“I haven’t?” y/n asked, now picking at the tip of her thumb, hoping what had taken two weeks to grow out would magically regrow in seconds. Saving his voice, Bill only shook his head.

“You nuh-know you can tuh-tell me. Ruh-right?” y/n nodded but what could she tell him?

Sorry I’ve been holding a massive crush on you for years like one holds a cleaver over their head but all of a sudden I’m into this guy I met in my art class who never brushes his hair and writes ‘smoking and smoking hot’ on his college resume.

“I think I’m just tired,” she lied while also feigning a yawn. She covered her mouth when it opened, pretending to be sleepy.

“Do-do you want me to tuh-take you home?” Bill asked. He was just as thoughtful as Richie. He was just as handsome as Richie, maybe even more. So why couldn’t y/n bring herself to like him as much as Richie? His arm left from her side and he used it to pick up the remote, turning the tv off. The worst part was, that when Bill’s hand stopped playing with the fabric of the flannel she wore and his arm left her frame, she didn’t feel a coldness that would usually wash over her when Richie’s arm left her. She felt free.

“I don’t want our afternoon to be spoiled,” y/n said. Her eyebrows furrowed and even though she knew she was lying through her teeth, she wanted to make this work. After all these years of pining for her study partner and favorite Derry High baseball player, she needed for this to work. To see the vision she’d created in her head, just a mere two years ago, collapse in front of her very eyes broke her. But at the same time, she was indifferent. Why should she care about the boy in front of her when the boy she actually wanted was a neighborhood away?

“Tr-trust me. It-it’s not.” Bill shrugged. He stood up and offered y/n his hand which she didn’t take. Instead, she sat there, planted in her same seat, waiting for him to continue. “I can tuh-take you home. And wuh-we can hang out to-tomorrow. You nuh-know when you’re well rested.” All of the sudden, this felt very real. Hanging out with Bill felt real. Being at his house felt real. And though his efforts were valiant, y/n couldn’t accept the offer.

A smile graced her lips and Bill mirrored that. “Yeah, okay. Uh, take me home—please.”

y/n stood up and Bill guided her to the door and to Zach Denbrough’s car as if she hadn’t had the place memorized from when she first came over for a History project they’d been assigned to do.

What did she ever see in him?

“I don’t know.” y/n’s shoulders bopped up and down and even though her figure was hunched, Richie still thought she looked graceful.

“Are you just sayin’ that or did you end up falling in love with little ole me and you can’t think of anything?” Just then, their milkshakes arrived. Both in frosted glass and both with a cherry on top. A feeling of relief swallowed the lump in her throat, or maybe that was the taste of vanilla ice cream now that she was given some time, and a reason, to stall. y/n hated how on-the-nose Richie could be. But she also loved that about him. He could be so, so unexpectedly smart about some things. Things that were right in front of her that she’d never even notice until Richie pointed it out. “Oh, come on.” Richie’s words would’ve sliced through the silence in the air if it weren’t for the chatter of other people and jukebox playing in the background. “Seriously, y/n/n, there’s gotta be something that drew you to him.”

“Well… he’s nice.”

“Okay cut the crap.”

“What?” y/n asked, finding herself annoyed that she not only had to reveal her feelings to a boy she may or may not like but also because he’s nice apparently wasn’t a sufficient enough answer.

“I need an actual answer. Not some bullshit response like he’s nice or he’s funny. Anyone can be nice or funny, y/n.”

“Well, whether you like it or not, Bill is nice. He’s genuine, and cares about the people around him… Selfless.”

Richie was upset at her response. Not because y/n countered his argument in a way he was left speechless but because she was right. Bill was the nice guy and Richie… wasn’t. Bill was the one who looked out for others, making sure they were okay. He was the one who made sure no one got left behind. He was the one everyone looked up to—not Richie, Bill. It was always Bill. Whereas Richie’s just the guy who stands in the background making funny noises only to be told to shut up.

“Yeah… Bill is nice.”

“Don’t tell me you’re my competition, Tozier.” y/n laughed at the oddity of fighting with Richie for the chance to be with Bill.

“Nah,” Richie shook his head, his hair flying in any direction possible. “You’re lucky I’m not, though. You wouldn’t have the chance, babe.”

y/n wanted to eat her heart out at the usage of babe in such an informal setting where they didn’t have to pretend, but the maraschino cherry resting on top of the pile of whipped cream would suffice. “Do you still like Vanessa?” The words tumbled from y/n’s mouth like they were nothing. But embarrassment replaced the blood flowing through her veins once she was aware of what she just said.

“It’s… complicated,” Richie said honestly, not caring that y/n might’ve crossed boundaries just then.

“What’s complicated?” y/n cocked her head like a puppy questioning why its master was making weird hand motions.

“You’ll understand when you’re older, kid.” Richie didn’t mean to come off as condescending, but he did.

“I’m the same age as you.” y/n crossed her arms after pushing away the half-empty, frosted glass in front of her.

Ignoring the red straw in his drink, Richie brought the edge of the glass to his lips and swallowed the thick shake. “Here’s the thing. Vanessa and I go way back.”

“How far is way back if you only dated her for four months?” y/n regretted even bringing her up. Maybe it was different back then, back when the two were actually dating. But now, y/n couldn’t remember a time when someone said the name ‘Richie Tozier’ and her heart didn’t feel like it would explode into a collision of fireworks.

“Four and a half,” Richie corrected with a grin breaking out on his lips. “But I dunno. She’s just special.”

“Special as in…?” y/n probed, and she hated herself for her big mouth that wouldn’t stop applying lemon juice to an obviously open wound.

“I love her.” Richie took another drink of Cookies n Cream, which was more cream than cookies, and y/n sat there in shock. She would be silly to think that after all these weeks, Richie would feel the same way about her. After all, he had a life outside of the fake one they’d construed. Or maybe Richie was just less emotionally confined to these sorts of things. He knew better than to get caught up in a fake relationship. Of course he would.

But knowing Richie still loved his ex, struck something in y/n’s core. And the fact that he was able to say it in such a nonchalant manner—such casualty—only dug deeper at the pit in her stomach.

“You love her?” y/n asked, her mouth still full of the sweet treat he’d pay for later in the evening.

“Love. Loved.” Richie shrugged like this was nothing—well, maybe this was nothing. Maybe y/n was the speck of dust on his shirt and him shrugging was the last of her existence from his being leaving. “What’s the difference?”

“There’s a big difference.” y/n wanted to scream. Luckily, she had enough self-perseverance to keep her composure. She swallowed. “One is past tense, and one is present tense.”

“How ‘bout I put it this way.” Richie set aside his drink so now nothing was blocking his view of y/n. He leaned forward and rested his hands on the table. “I don’t like…” He paused. Revealing that he had no intention in getting back with his once first love would possibly wreck this whole thing. “If Vanessa asked, I’d probably get back with her,” Richie finally said, thinking that must’ve been a suitable way to word the jumble of letters floating around in his head like alphabet soup.

“You would?” y/n asked, feeling like a little kid all over again.

Richie didn’t say anything.

“Do you and her still…”

“Still what?”

“Talk, I guess is what I’m trying to say.” y/n messed with her fingers, pulling at a hangnail she’d know she’d regret doing when it got to later in the night.

“Nah. But don’t worry about it, sweets.” Richie took out his wallet only to be met with a picture of the dreaded girl they’d just been talking about. He gulped. His spit tasted like Oreos and he knew he’d have a stomachache later. Richie thumbed out a ten-dollar bill and five ones to keep Alexander Hamilton company. “Ole Vanessa could never get in the way of you if that’s what you’re wonderin’.”

It was what she was wondering.

But she’d never let Richie know that. y/n crossed her arms tighter around her torso because right now it felt like Richie could see right through her.

Richie drove her home in the same way Bill would a month from that night. But Richie had a better taste in music and y/n was actually sad to part from him when he left her at her doorstep.

“I’m really sorry I had to cut our time short,” y/n said. She was sorry.

“It’s ff-fine. I al-already sai—”

“Yeah, but I feel awful, Bill.” y/n finally mucked up the courage to look him in the eye. Those blue eyes that’d been searching for hers all afternoon. “This was probably like… the worst first date in the history of first dates.”

“Ih-it’s not so bad. But that duh-depends on how muh-many first dates you’ve been on.” Bill laughed and y/n was trying to figure out what was funny about what he said.

“You’ve been on worse ones?” y/n asked anxiously.

“Luh-let’s just say th-they duh-didn’t get a second date.”

y/n nodded while her hands started to search for the keys in her purse.

“I’ll ss-see you tuh-tomorrow?”

“Or at my funeral. Whichever comes first.” For a moment, the bad thoughts cleared from the surface of y/n’s head. Laughter was the only thing she was aware of for a moment.

“Bye, y/n/n.”

“Bye, Richie,” y/n said bashfully. Her hands were strewn behind her back because she didn’t know what they would do if they weren’t. He was about to walk off—off into the moonlight. And y/n would have to wait until Monday to see him again. It was one day too long because she knew even though the two of them had nothing better to do tomorrow, he’d see it as just friends whereas y/n would see it… differently. “Richie, wait!”

“What?” Richie turned around. His hands sat inside of his front pockets and his posture was slumped, as always.

“Thanks… for tonight.” Richie nodded, and validation from him served as a sick kind of ego booster that egged y/n to keep going. “They really are the best milkshakes in town.”

“Yeah.” Richie’s scratchy voice soothed y/n under the frosty air that came from winters in Maine. y/n stepped closer, her hands still behind her back.

“Did you have a good time?”

“You know I always have a good time when I’m with you.” Richie nudged y/n’s elbow with his but was taken aback by her hands that now gripped his shoulders and how suddenly close she was against him.

y/n kissed him on the cheek, not daring to go for his lips because who’s ever heard of a kiss goodbye on the cheek? Is probably what Stacy Howards would retort back to her after she’d spill the happenings of Saturday night to Derry High’s favorite cheerleader in study hall.

His cheek tasted like salt and Irish Spring—that is, if she knew what Irish Spring tasted like. Which she definitely didn’t.

She didn’t linger long. Richie wished she stayed longer. The kiss was short and sweet and the taste of vanilla on her lips replaced a fraction of his cheek that tasted like body wash and sodium chloride.

“Goodnight,” y/n said, now finally coming to her senses.

“Ye-yeah.” Richie blinked, an alternative to pinching himself in front of the girl he’d been pretending to date. “Night.” But after pretending for so long, Richie couldn’t help but notice the less it felt like pretending.

y/n closed the door behind her with a slam, making sure to lock it in case intruders were in the neighborhood. Now that Bill was gone, her first instinct was to call up Richie—tell him that the date went well, and how he was such a great friend, and thanks for the help. But there were only so many times she could lie to a boy she felt feelings so deeply for. The first, coincidentally, was when Richie had asked how things were going with Bill.

“Make any progress so far?” Richie asked with a face full of ham. They were eating lunch together, per usual. But this time, unlike the many times before, the hand that wasn’t holding his sandwich was rubbing circles on y/n’s small hand that Richie’s swallowed.

“Comme ci comme ça.” y/n smiled to herself at her basic understanding any French One student would master. “It’s going alright…” y/n had never been a natural liar. Whenever she told her parents she had cleaned her room when she, in fact, didn’t, the hairs on the back of her neck stood to attention and her forearm broke out in an itch she could never quite scratch. But her internal biological workings had given her a break today. There was no itch and her hairs stayed in place from when she styled her hair that morning.

“What’s alright?” Richie questioned, though it sounded more like an interrogation.

“He started talking to me more.”

“He didn’t already talk to you?” Richie’s eyebrow rose because how were you supposed to fall for a guy you barely talked to?

“Well, yeah, he talks to me.” The pad of Richie’s thumb that was drawing slow circles onto y/n’s knuckles turned into lines. Back and forth. Back and forth. “But he used to talk to me about classwork and… you know, like, school.” Richie smiled when she talked. He was happy for his friend. He truly was. But he couldn’t stand the fact that the guy she was talking about wasn’t him—let alone, his former best friend. “And in APUSH, instead of asking about my grade or whatever, he… asked about me.”

“What’d Mister Charming have to say?”

Mister Charming sat two seats away from y/n. But that didn’t stop him from talking to her. Every now and then, Bill would steal glances at the girl from his peripheral vision. Sometimes, if he were feeling bold, he’d turn to face her—but that action only occurred when she was speaking. Today, however, was different. Today he’d talk to her.

Lucky for Bill, the pencil sharpener sat in the back of class—close to where y/n’s seat was.

“Hey.”

y/n looked up from her textbook. She didn’t want to assume the hushed voice was for her—but she had to figure the tap on her shoulder was.

“Hi.” She set her pencil down and folded her arms flat on the desk. “What’s up?” y/n swore she sounded insane. Who says what’s up—

“Th-the sky.” Bill’s smile made cloudy days seem cloudless. “I was wuh-wondering ih—” He swallowed the trail of saliva that gathered in the back of his throat. “If… are yo-you and Ruh-Richie like…”

“No!” y/n said quickly and a little too loudly.

“Good.”

“Good?”

“Muh-maybe we cuh-could hang out… This Saturday work?” A stroke of nervousness flitted across his features for a second even though Bill didn’t have anything to be nervous about. The rest of y/n’s words got caught in her throat and she instinctively found herself writing down her number on the scratch piece of paper Mr. Ferguson passed out for notetaking.

“Call me.”

Bill did call. Which was precisely how y/n was stuck frozen in time; her back slanted against the door and her thoughts racing against one another.

She had two options at hand. Call Richie. Find Richie. Or wait it out for tomorrow when Bill’s same car would be in her driveway, waiting for her.

But a third option was already at y/n’s doorstep, contemplating ringing the doorbell.

Richie Tozier stood outside of y/n’s front door, palms sweaty and unusually anxious for confrontation. His pale fingers knotted together. It was their way of stalling from interacting with y/n for as long as possible—or as long as curfew would allow him to.

“Hey.” His stalling attempt was left unsuccessful when y/n opened the door. Ironically, he was just the person she had hoped to run into. “What are… what are you doing?”

“Me?” Richie’s eyebrows stitched together, and he pointed to himself with his index finger.

“You’re the only one here,” y/n deadpanned.

“I was just in the neighborhood, y’know. Doin’ neighborly things.”

“You don’t live in this neighborhood.” Richie feigned laughter but this time y/n didn’t laugh with him. “Seriously, Rich, why are you here? You knew I had my date with Bill and—”

“And what?” His tone grew firm, like it had grabbed her by the hand and urged whatever was eating at her insides out of her.

“And I don’t think you should be here, after I just got done with my date with somebody else!” y/n said with a shaky breath. She could feel her heartbeat almost burning through her chest that rose and fell harshly.

“How was it? Your date?” Richie had calmed down, but y/n didn’t.

“It went bad. Is that what you wanted to hear?” y/n muttered, but it could’ve been mistaken for a yell.

“No, why would you think—hold on. What’s up with you?” Richie’s hands stuffed themselves in his front pocket. His posture was hunched over, and his face now screwed together, trying to understand the girl standing before him.

“I don’t know.” The flame that had once ignited y/n’s lively spirits had died down. “I just. It didn’t go well, that’s all,” y/n said, unable to coax the words she actually wanted to say out of her lips.

“He wasn’t an asshole, was he?” Richie’s tone was protective—nothing y/n would expect from him two months ago when she’d gotten themselves into this mess.

“No! No.” y/n was complicated. First, she’d spew off about how her date was bad and now she was defending said date?

“God, y/n/n, can you just make up your mind?”

She could do that.

“You were right,” y/n declared.

“What?”

“Don’t make me say it again.” Her voice lowered to a whisper, but Richie could still make out what she was saying.

“Well, I’m always right, toots. I just need context—”

“About the fake dating thing. How eventually one person’s bound to fall for the other…” Her toes curled from under the white Converse she hadn’t had time to slip off. They were worn and the bottoms were yellowing from the number of times she’d matched them to an outfit. “And you don’t look like you’re on your knees, so.”

“So, what?” y/n didn’t notice the smirk edging on the corners of Richie’s lips.

“Tozier, don’t make me say it.”

“You have to, or God knows how long we’ll be standing on this fuckin’ porch,” Richie said patiently. Patient. Richie was never patient—always the one to urge his friends to hurry the fuck up, always the one to ask are we there yet? But this time he was. His figure stood still and ominous, like Santa on Christmas Eve. His breathing held steady in his lungs that had seen more smoke than his mother’s kitchen and his feet stood planted on the concrete stoop of y/n’s house and they’d stay there until she told him the very damned thing she didn’t want to.

“I like you, okay?” y/n knew if she blinked, the dam of tears in her eyes would finally burst and the last thing she wanted was having Richie Tozier see her cry. Well, second to last thing. The first thing on that list had already happened. “Look, I know you’re still in love with Van-Vanessa.” It hurt to say the girl’s name because she wasn’t just a girl, she was Richie’s ex. “But you asked me to say it and I did. So there.”

y/n was about to turn back. Back into her house and back out of this friendship. It was only because Richie laughed that y/n stopped. His chuckle was like music, not the kind that Richie blasted in his car with the windows down, but like a symphony. And if y/n were any less mortified right now, maybe she’d stop to admire it—him—for one second more.

She was about to ask why. Why are you mocking me when I’m so clearly in a vulnerable state right now? Why are you mocking me after I’d just shared something so deep and personal with the likes of you? About the likes of you? But y/n didn’t get the chance when Richie surged forward and pressed a kiss against her lips. She could feel her heart pick up even more at the taste of him: spearmint and tobacco. She thought it’d stabilize itself once his lips left hers, but it didn’t. His taste lingered and at the time it felt permanent, like a red stain on white furniture.

“Like I said. Ole Vanessa could never get in the way of you.” His breath hit her face, warm and intoxicating, and y/n could only think that kissing Richie on the lips was way better than kissing him on the cheek.

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kittyprincessofcats · 4 years

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RWBY Volume 8, Episodes 8-12

All caught up with RWBY now! (Except for the premium only episode.)

So, two things first: 1. From now on, my blog will no longer be spoiler free for RWBY! I don’t have premium access, so no spoilers for that, but beyond that, I might now reblog spoilers for everything that’s been released to the public. Blacklist “#RWBY spoilers” if you don’t want to see them.

2. I was going to ask what the spoiler policy in this fandom in general is when it comes to premium access. From what I’ve seen, Youtubers usually wait a week before uploading their reaction videos, which I appreciate – but here on tumblr almost no one seems to hold back. I saw a spoiler for “Creation” before it was released publicly. The day episode 13 was released for premium access, I had to unfollow people for posting untagged spoilers for it. And when I went into a RWBY-related tag for one second, I saw a really big spoiler that put me in a very sour mood because it also happened to be very aggressively worded against fans of a certain character (basically, along the lines of “I’m glad X bad thing happened to Y character because I hate them and their fans”). So, that scared the shit out of me and I ended up looking up more specific spoilers about what exactly happened because I wouldn’t have been able to sleep otherwise. So, from what I’ve seen, this fandom’s spoiler policy is just “fuck anyone who doesn’t have premium access” 😒. Always nice to see people being so considerate.

With that said, let’s get into my thoughts on episodes 8-12. Under the cut, because unlike some people, I try to be considerate of others who might want to avoid spoilers.

- So, the Hound really was a person. Specifically, a person with silver eyes and that’s probably what happened to Summer. THANKS, I HATE IT. This is exactly what I feared it would be and what I didn’t want it to be. (I don’t want Ruby and Yang to have to fight and kill their grimm-ified mom, that’s too sad, okay?)

- I love that Whitley really came through and came up with a plan for evacuating everyone! He’s a good bean after all! And that he managed to press that button on the computer before running from the Hound? Amazing.

- Willow Schnee being one hell of a mama bear and summoning a thing to protect Whitley was epic. She was so close to breaking down before that, but then her child was in danger and she just jumped into action right away. Protective mom instincts ftw!

- Blake’s talk about how she looks up to Ruby and how she herself lost the youthful optimism Ruby still has was SO sweet! (Also, Ladybug is an underrated ship/friendship and I really don’t get why people say they never interact? Have you all just forgotten volume 1 and how Bumbleby’s first meeting happened because Yang was trying to wingman Ruby who was trying to befriend Blake??)

- Penny fighting the virus from the inside was amazing, she did so well! I also loved seeing Nora encourage her (and echo Blake’s earlier words back to her).

- Unrelated to these episodes specifically, but I tried to think about who my favourite RWBY charactes even are right now, and I find it super hard to narrow down because I love so many of them, but if I tried to somewhat narrow it down, then (in no specific order because don’t ask me to also come up with an order): all of Team RWBY (though Blake is a personal favourite), Ilia, Penny, Salem, Cinder. (But then again, I also love Winter and Qrow and Robyn and... you get it, it’s hard to narrow down. Oh, and of course Pyrrha, but... you know.)

- “Witch” was honestly my favourite episode of the bunch. That one was just so full of epic stuff. (And now I’m wondering if Salem being one of my favourite characters has anything to do with my love for witches. I used to be obsessed with witches as a kid. In every story I read that had a witch, the witch was always my favourite character.)

- Yang and her team sure found a way inside that whale fast! Also, really handy that Ren’s semblance evolved just in time for when they needed it. But hey, I don’t want to complain about convenient plot stuff too much. Sometimes the heroes are allowed to have a little bit of good luck.

- Hazel listening to Oscar and deciding to get both him AND Emerald out of there was amazing! He really does have a soft spot for kids and wasn’t kidding about not wanting more kids to die – we love to see it! I also think it makes for an interesting parallel that Hazel decided to do this right as Ironwood was sending students to fight on the front lines and Marrow was calling it out.

- I really liked Ren telling Yang she doesn’t have to hide her fear behind jokes. Ren being able to see emotions is going to bring about so many more good moments, I just know it!

- Emerald and “Hazel’s” talk with Salem gets so much better when you know “Hazel” is actually Oscar – Emerald has gotten so much better at illusions and fooled Salem herself! That’s impressive!

- It’s really practical that Ren could sense Emerald’s fear. But also, the group really didn’t have the time to discuss if Emerald was trustworthy – they needed to get out of there asap.

- The way Salem spits out the word “semblance” when she talks to Emerald shows again that she not only underestimates these “new humans” and their powers, but also considers them inferior. It’s a nice little detail how just her tone when she says that word says so much about her worldview.

- Yang straight-up running up to Salem and blowing her up was epic. It didn’t last of course, but it was still a super bold and epic move. I’ve talked before about how cool Yang is and she just keeps getting cooler.

- Yang calling Salem out was amazing and epic, too! And when she referred to Summer Rose as “my mom” that made me tear up just a bit 😢. (I really don’t like Salem’s smile when she says “her again”, though. I don’t want grimm-ified Summer, I really don’t want it, okay? keep it far away from me where I won’t have to see it.)

- I’m a bit sad about Hazel’s death, but it was a really fitting end for his character and a really cool way to go out. The way he looked at all of those kids in danger (proving again that that’s what it’s about for him), whispered “No more Gretchens” to Oscar, punched Salem in the face as she was about to hurt Emerald, injected all of those crystals into his skin (which looked epic, by the way), told Emerald to go, fought an epic fight against Salem and then grabbed her and set himself and her on fire, burning her like a witch – it was epic stuff! RIP Hazel, you died as a hero and went out in an incredibly epic way!

- Hazel’s sacrifice must have been super tough on Emerald. He died protecting her (and JOYR) and it worked. She got away from Salem, but only because someone else, a friend, died for her. Not only must it be awful for her to lose Hazel, she probably also blames herself. (And, as I’ve seen others point out, it was probably the first time in her life an adult did something to protect her. Wow. Someone get this girl therapy, please.)

- The whale getting blown up was an absolutely epic moment. From the music to the cinematography, I loved everything about it. (That said, I will miss the whale. RIP coolest villain lair ever.)

- I loved Watts’ speech to Cinder – and I’m saying this as someone who became a huge fan of Cinder this volume. I love her, but I also love roasting her, and a lot of what Watts said was stuff she desperately needed to hear. I honestly didn’t even like Watts before that moment, but that speech might have made me like him just a tiny bit. The way he just laughed when she dangled him from a building, the way he spelled it out for her that her methods haven’t been working and threw her failures in her face, the ending with calling her “a bloody migraine” – Like I said, I’m a fan of Cinder, but that was glorious and cathartic and beautiful to witness. But what makes it really perfect is Cinder’s reaction: The fact that you’d expect her to kill him or at least scream at him, but instead she spares him and just sits down and cries. I really love what they’ve been doing with Cinder this volume and that they’re finally showing her as someone way deeper than just a power-hungry villain.

- In general, let me quickly talk about Cinder, because even without having seen the last two episodes I can already tell you that she’s my standout character / favourite character of the season. (It was Ilia for Volume 5, Salem for Volume 6, Penny for Volume 7 – and now it’s Cinder.) I said back in my post about Volume 5 that I wish they’d do more with her because after becoming rather interesting in Volume 4 they just went back to making her a pretty flat villain – and I officially have to eat my words and apologize to RoosterTeeth right now! This volume proved to me that they know what they’re doing with Cinder and explained so much about her. I’m sorry for ever doubting the writing. I now want to go back and rewatch the whole show while paying more attention to Cinder and I can’t wait to see where her arc goes from here (yes, I want an eventual redemption, and what about it?). This volume is obviously setting up something big for her – I just have no idea what it is. And at the end of the day, she’s still the Maiden of Choice. She’s the key to the Beacon relic, and that’s going to become important eventually.

- Oh, and can I mention, just by the way, that I think Cinder looks amazing? I don’t understand all the people who say they miss her red outfits when this is clearly her best look yet. The black eyepatch, the cape, the earrings, the short hair, the high boots, the shorts instead of a dress, all the black – this is her absolute best look, period.

- I’ve also noticed that the scene between her and Watts is the first time Cinder has referred to Penny by name. She’s always referred to her with phrases like “some toy” or “Polendina’s creation” before, but this time she just called her “Penny Polendina”, then “Penny” again, and asked Watts how she’s supposed to take Penny’s power “if she’s dead” (not “destroyed”, which is what Watts said, but “dead” – something you say about a person, not a machine). I think somewhere down the line, Cinder has started to see Penny as a person and respect her as the Winter Maiden. Maybe it’s because of how Penny won the fight at Amity, or maybe (though this might be wishful thinking on my part) it’s because Penny questioned why Cinder serves Salem and showed her and Emerald mercy.

- Also, side-note: While I loved Watts’ speech, it sure is bold of him to call Cinder entitled when his own villain origin story is getting overlooked for a science project.

- Neo is an amazing little troll and I love her. From stealing the lamp and skipping along the ruins of the whale happily to those texts to Cinder, all of her moments were brilliant and hilarious.

- Some characters not just forgiving Emerald is totally fair and realistic. But, as I said before (and as Oscar also points out), they don’t have to. People think a “redemption” – or let’s just call it switching sides instead of using such a loaded term – has to include everyone’s forgiveness, but it doesn’t. If Yang and Jaune never want to personally forgive Emerald, that’s okay. They don’t need to forgive her to recognize that she’s changed and work with her. And, as Oscar and Ren point out, Emerald’s abilities would be very useful to have on their side. So, personal feelings are fine and all, but right now they don’t have the luxury to dismiss a potentially very useful ally. (And same for Oz, by the way. It’s fine if they’re still mad at him, but they also need his help.)

- Also, have I already said that I’m very happy for Emerald? Because I’m very happy for Emerald for getting out of there! (Mercury’s and then Cinder’s redemption next, please!)

- F*ck Harriet for trying to get Winter in trouble for letting JYR go. I’m hating her more every second. And then she seriously said “Who cares?” about Ironwood’s plan to nuke Mantle? She’s the most unlikable of them all.

- Everyone’s reunions were so sweet! I loved Ruby and Yang hugging 😭. And Yang cupping Blake’s cheek and their forehead touch had me all 🥰 🥰 🥰.

- After he threatened to nuke Mantle, I hope we can all agree that Ironwood is a straight-up villain now. The most infuriating part is that he didn’t even have to do anything! Whitley and Weiss had figured out a way to save everyone in Mantle and the SDC ships to evacuate people were already there. All Ironwood had to do was let them evacuate everyone to Atlas, and then Penny would have opened the vault willingly and Ironwood could have used the staff to raise Atlas as planned. Problem solved! He should have just sat there and ate his food – but he was so pissed about things not going his way (or maybe he just genuinely hates Mantle that much) that he thought sabotaging the rescue plan and threatening genocide was a better option.

- I loved Marrow’s arc in these episodes and how you could tell more and more that his conscience was making him turn against Ironwood. First he questioned Winter when she was going to nuke the whale before JOYR were back, then he seemed shocked when he thought they were dead, then he tried to talk sense into the other Ace Ops after Ironwood’s ultimatum, and then he straight-up called out Ironwood himself. That last one was dangerous though, and he was lucky Winter was quick enough to jump in and pretend to arrest him, because Ironwood was going to just shoot him in the back.

- Speaking of, I wonder how long Winter has been planning to double-cross Ironwood. How long was she already disagreeing with him, but waiting for the right moment to make a move? Either way, I’m glad she was there to save Marrow.

- The Renora confession scene was so sweet and got me a little choked up 😢. I’m glad they sorted out their issues and told each other how they feel. But like I said before, I think Nora’s arc of trying to find out who she is without Ren is really good and important and Ren respecting that was really good and important as well. It was just a very wholesome scene. Also, I like that we got a little bit more backstory for Nora (her mom abandoned her? that’s awful), and Jaune awkwardly leaving the room was hilarious.

- Robyn telling Qrow he’s a better Huntsman than Clover because he chose to do the right thing was a really important moment for Qrow, imo. (And just a side-note: I’m sure most Fair Game shippers are pretty chill – and I’m a strong believer in ‘ship and let ship’ – but a certain subset of them is starting to get on my nerves with how they ignore Clover’s canon character and story (acting like he would have rebelled against Ironwood if he were alive as if the whole reason he’s dead wasn’t precisely because he cared more about Ironwood’s orders than doing the right thing) and how they make every new plot point about their ship somehow (Oscar’s semblance? Better be a time-travel thing so Clover can come back. Staff of Creation? Better be able to bring people back from the dead so Clover can come back.) It’s so annoying.)

- Yang and Ruby’s talk about their mom was really intense. Ruby’s been holding all of these feelings in for so long, so seeing her say out loud what we’re all fearing (that Summer was turned into a Grimm) and seeing both her and Yang break down over it – that was a lot. I loved seeing Yang comfort Ruby and tell her that her plan for Amity wasn’t useless. Their sisterly bond is so sweet.

- Penny asking Ruby to kill her was another really intense moment. The look on Ruby’s face in that moment really said it all. Ruby has been through so much, has lost Penny before, so hearing that request – even though they fortunately didn’t have to go through with it – must have still been a lot for her.

- I really loved Emerald’s cute “newly reformed villain” moments. (“You guys have been getting your asses kicked… some of that my fault” & “I’m just going to be super pissed if you all finally decide to give up the moment I switch sides.”) I’ve said before (in my She-Ra posts) that my favourite part of any redemption arc is the “former enemies, now awkward around each other” stuff, so this was right up my alley!

- “The girl who fell through the world” was referenced twice now. Between that, the image of everyone falling in the opening, and the lyrics “sometimes it’s worth it all to risk the fall”, I’m going to predict that someone – most likely all of Team RWBY – will fall into that void and potentially end up in a different world.

- The group’s plan to defeat Ironwood, stop the bomb, and get to the vault was amazing all-around. I love the parts Emerald and Winter got to play in it, I love how we saw the plan’s execution before seeing how they came up with it and I love how everyone got to help, even the Schnees and Klein. I also love that the hole Oscar blasted through the ground of Atlas became relevant again.

- The design of the vault and the door are really nice and now I wonder what the other two are going to look like.

- Saving Penny like that was super risky, but they really were out of options. Just the fact that Ruby had to be quick enough to use her semblance and get to the staff before the virus kills Penny… jeesh, that was close.

- Ambrosius is a super fun character! I love that he looked at Penny and said “I’d love to meet whoever did this.” Also, the staff seems more useful than the lamp. The lamp only lets you ask three questions per century, while the staff can be used as often as you want – as long as you’re okay with whatever it previously created disappearing.

- I honestly still don’t completely understand what Penny is now. Is she meant to be human now? Or is she just a being made up of pure aura? How does this work? Ambrosius only created the copy that destroyed herself, so what’s left is Penny’s aura – but she somehow also has a body now? I guess we’ll find out more about what exactly this means later.

- Also, while I wasn’t sure how I feel about this decision re:Penny at first, now that I’ve thought about it for a bit, I think it works. It fits with the Pinocchio story, and I like that they didn’t phrase it as “she’s a real girl now”, but as “this is the girl who’s been in there all along”. Also, Penny saying “wow” after hugging Ruby and then going on a hugging spree was adorable.

- Watching “herself” self-terminate must have been really traumatic, though. Even if that copy was just a robot, it was still a disturbing scene.

- Who shut down communications in the middle of Jaune’s broadcast? I’m assuming it was Cinder, Watts and Neo.

- The whole dimension with the doorways that Ambrosius created looks amazing. (A while before watching this episode, I wondered if Raven could theoretically save Atlas by getting everyone to safety with her portals. It might not have been Raven, but I’m glad I was at least onto something.)

- “Do not fall.” So, about that… they’re all falling in the opening, (and we referenced “the girl who fell through the world” twice now), so I don’t have a good feeling about that. Also, Watts has been dangled from somewhere high twice now, so the third time has to be when he actually falls down.

- And Cinder is there to ruin the plan because of course she is.

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