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eddieeatsass · 3 years

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On the Edge of an Avalanche

Summary: Graduation was upon them and Eddie Kaspbrak was eager to leave Derry behind. His one last hurrah would be the senior ski trip, earning him an escape from his mother and the looming stress of college admissions. It was supposed to be a relaxing vacation, until he got slated to look after resident pain-in-everyone’s-ass, Richie Tozier. Pairing: Richie Tozier/Eddie Kaspbrak Rating: E Chapter: 3/5 Read Chapter 2 Here / Read on AO3

The next morning felt like a slow-motion scene unravelling before him. Eddie had spent most of the night replaying the events that him and Richie had engaged in, dissecting it for all he could and trying to figure out what it all meant. He hadn’t fallen asleep until the birds were waking up, singing a morning song that rang more like a lullaby to Eddie’s tired ears.

The first time he woke he felt a warmth pressing up against his back, arms curling around his torso, and smelled sickly-sweet cinnamon that was unfamiliar but undeniably soothing. He fell back asleep not long after.

The second time Eddie woke he felt rustling beside him, a gentle press to his cheek, and just barely heard something whispered. He never opened his eyes, sleep already pulling him back in.

The final time he woke that morning was very different from the others; a booming voice announcing an arrival had shaken him out of slumber and almost out of bed.

“JESUS CHRIST WHAT THE SHIT-” Eddie clutched his blankets in a death grip, holding them up higher as if they could shield him from the onslaught.

“Wakey wakey Eds and bakey!”

Eddie groaned internally, already upset at his body for having such a visceral reaction to the sound of Richie’s voice even while it was so tired, and Richie was so loud. Did he have any self respect?

Eddie peered out from behind his sheets, eyes meeting a ruffled bed head and an early morning smile.

Okay, maybe Eddie didn’t need self respect when Richie looked that good.

“I brought breakfast.” Richie stated, holding the plates up as a peace offering.

Eddie didn’t even have to think before he scooted over, making room for Richie and patting the open spot.

Richie hobbled over, handing one of the over-stacked plates to Eddie and plopping himself down with a small “oof”.

Choosing to avoid the elephant in the room for a while longer, Eddie speared what he assumed to be an egg with his fork. He couldn’t be certain, as Richie had coated everything on both plates with a healthy serving of hollandaise sauce.

“How’s the ankle?” Eddie asked tentatively.

“’s fine.” Richie said through a mouthful of food. His cheeks were puffed out like a chipmunk, but rather than being off-putting, it was annoyingly charming.

“You really shouldn’t be walking on it.” Eddie mentioned.

“I’ve had worse.” Richie shrugged, as if that was supposed to be comforting to Eddie.

“Where did you get the food?” Eddie asked, changing the subject once again to avoid the hovering topic. It was well past breakfast time, and Eddie knew the buffets were never open past 9am.

“I snuck into the kitchen.” Richie shrugged, as if that were a totally normal thing to do.

“What- Richie! You could have gotten in trouble!”

“But I didn’t.” Richie smirked triumphantly.

“Anyone could have caught you! And you could have been sent home, or worse, the staff could have called the police! I mean it is technically stealing, and trespassing, and could probably be charged as breaking and entering, and-”

Eddie was cut off by a fork full of food being shoveled into his open mouth. A fork that wasn’t his fork. A fork that had been in someone else’s mouth, that should have grossed him out, that should have sounded off the alarm in his head. But instead, the fork sat in his mouth as nothing more than a slight inconvenience; not a trigger for his neuroses or a reason to grab his mouthwash, just a fork. What kind of spell did this boy have over him!?

“Now chew.” Richie ordered, pulling his fork out and leaving the food to sit inside Eddie’s mouth. He did as he was told, chewing a few times and swallowing the food that, in any other case, would have disgusted him.

“There. Now, do you hear any sirens outside?”

“No, but-”

“Is your body getting ready to violently regurgitate everything?”

“No-”

“Then just enjoy the food, spaghetti man.”

Richie said it like it was so easy… And maybe it was. Eddie could be a bit rebellious, couldn’t he? Richie had gone out of his way to get them breakfast, no matter how irresponsible it had been, and Eddie had done nothing but complain. He hadn’t even thanked Richie. Besides, how was it any different from when Eddie snuck into the school’s kitchen to get Stan his special lunch?

The difference, Eddie realized with his heart skipping a beat, was that Eddie didn’t care much about his own wellbeing. The wellbeing of Richie, however, was a completely new ballgame, and Eddie suddenly found himself at bat.

“Sorry, it’s hard for me to keep my anxiety in check sometimes.” Eddie admitted, poking around his plate and eating a few more bites. Admittedly, the food was really good.

“Hey, no need to apologize, I get it.” Richie assured, shooting Eddie a smile that melted him to the core. “Just know that I’d never put you in any real danger.” Richie added with an honesty that watered something warm and vibrant in Eddie’s chest.

And somehow, Eddie knew that was true. Richie might be reckless at times, but he wasn’t stupid, and he protected those he cared about.

Eddie wondered if he was in that category now.

Before Eddie could dwell on it any longer, there was a knock at their door followed by Mr. Daniels’ voice giving them a half hour before they head out. It seemed that while Eddie had been busy sleeping in, the bus had been repaired and returned to their motel.

As they filed into the vehicle, Eddie noticed that the teachers had switched buses for the day. Mr. Daniels made no mention of the seating arrangements (to which there had been more changes than just Richie and Stanley). This, of course, resulted in absolute mayhem as everyone that had been assigned to different seats now reverted to their original spots. As a result, the bus soon returned back to its chaos.

Eddie glanced over at Richie, his fingers twitching as he held himself back from reaching out and clutching Richie’s arm to keep him close. Of course, Eddie wouldn’t mind sitting with Stan again, but he’d grown attached to Richie, and even though he felt like they were treading unfamiliar waters now thanks to last night’s unspoken tryst, he still wanted to be close to him.

The bus hadn’t started moving yet, so kids were still flying from row to row, taking advantage of their newfound freedom thanks to Mr. Daniels more lax approach at chaperoning. Eddie bit at his fingernail as he watched Richie out of the corner of his eye, too afraid to speak but just as afraid to take his gaze off him.

Richie, on the other hand, seemed completely unaware as he happily tapped away at something on his phone. His shoulders were hunched forward in poor posture and he was wearing the same clothes as yesterday, now wrinkled from sleeping in them, but he was still the picture of beauty as far as Eddie was concerned.

Eddie got caught staring as Richie’s head turned without warning, but it was only met with a smile and an endeared laugh.

“Is it cool if I switch with Stanley for a bit? Bill’s been harping on me for not texting him back all night, that clingy son of a bitch.” Richie held up his phone as evidence, even though the screen was black and gave Eddie no hint as to the topic of their conversation.

He hoped in equal parts that it was and wasn’t about him.

“Yeah, whatever.” Eddie tried to feign indifference but overshot and ended up sounding rude. He winced at his own tone of voice and swallowed back the urge to apologize immediately.

“Uhh, okay.” Richie seemed confused, but his face stayed open and inviting despite the quirk in his brow. Liquid lapis eyes training on Eddie for a beat longer than necessary before he was hopping up and heading down the isle.

As soon as Richie was gone, Eddie let his head fall against the frostbitten window with a thunk, his eyes closing instinctively as he retreated inside his brain.

He was exhausted, both physically from lack of sleep, and emotionally from all these new unfamiliar emotions. It’s not that Eddie had never had crushes before; there was Steven from summer camp, Harry who worked at the bookstore, and Isaac who’d been their mechanic for six years, and had taken Eddie under his wing after his father died.

However, of all the infatuations Eddie had had, Richie was the first one that actually made sense. Steven had been too far away, and straight. Harry had been too busy, and straight. Isaac had been too old, and straight. But Richie… well, he lived in the same city, wasn’t bogged down by work, and was the same age as Eddie… and was… possibly not straight?

Eddie felt the seat dip beside him, but refused to open his eyes. Call it a protest of the outside world for being too confusing, he’d open his eyes again when someone had the answers for him.

“Hey.”

Okay, well maybe Stan would have the answers.

Eddie grumbled his greeting, pulling his body away from the window only to let it slump the other way, right into Stanley’s shoulder. He wavered a bit at the sudden impact but righted himself quickly, supporting Eddie’s weight easily.

“So, are you the reason Richie’s walking with a limp today?”

“WHAT?” Eddie’s head shot up, his brain working in overdrive to try and wipe his slate clean, erase any sign of culpability. Did Stan know what they’d done? Did everyone know what they’d done? Oh my god, Richie told someone and now everyone was going to know that they-

“I mean, I just assumed Richie crossed the line at some point and you had to deliver some swift Kaspbrak karate moves to shut him up.” Stan held his hand up in fists and, with delayed relief, Eddie realized Stan was making a joke.

Eddie let his head fall back into the cushiness of Stan’s shoulder, his body somehow even more drained than it had been thirty seconds ago. Eddie wasn’t fully certain how he planned on getting through today.

“He was actually really respectful.” Eddie responded. He didn’t realize it was so out of character until Stan fell quiet, followed by a prodding question.

“Are you okay?”

There it was, the question Eddie couldn’t even answer for himself. Was he okay? He didn’t feel okay, but nothing had actually gone wrong, right? In fact, if anything, things had gone in Eddie’s favor. So why did he feel this heavy weight in his chest, baring down on his lungs and slowly squeezing the air out of him?

When Eddie had returned from the bathroom the previous night, steeled to have the inevitable conversation that came after dry humping a guy you’ve been familiar with for no more than a day, he’d found Richie fast asleep.

Not knowing what else to do, Eddie has simply crawled into bed beside him.

But those hours laying awake had left him with too many thoughts, the most prodding being his fear that he’d been used as a prop for Richie’s experimentation. Did he even like guys? He’d never mentioned it, never seemed to show any interest past a couple of jokes. But that was all they were, right? Maybe the jokes had been the first signs Eddie should have noticed, subtle hints Richie was dropping to insinuate that Eddie would be the perfect contender for a round of ‘am I gay or just horny?’. Eddie had practically opened himself up to it after coming out to him.

His pessimism may have been clouded by past experiences, but after what Eddie had been through, it was no wonder he jumped to conclusions. The only experiences Eddie had to speak for were secret rendezvous with nervous classmates that inevitably ended with Eddie being ignored the next day. It was a pattern, and Eddie was the invariable. He was the small, quiet twink that every questioning athlete and nerd alike seemed to peg as an easy target for their sexual experimentation.

It wasn’t all bad; it was how Eddie got his first kiss, his first hand job, and so on and so forth. It had, however, left him feeling skeptical of anyone who showed even the barest of interest in him, writing it off as nothing more than curiosity.

The thought of that being the case with Richie left Eddie’s stomach souring. He’d never gotten attached like this before. Quite honestly, he felt like he was standing on the edge of an avalanche, just waiting for Richie to speak and cause it all to collapse above them.

“What do you think about people experimenting with… New things.” Eddie braved forward.

“Uh, I mean that’s a pretty vague question.” Stan pointed out.

“Okay… say you’ve only ever eaten hamburgers your whole life, right? Through and through you’re a hamburger guy. Until one day you see a hotdog and think, well, maybe I’ll try that today. What if you try it and you don’t like it? Are you just going to throw it away? How is that fair, to just use the hotdog and then discard it like it’s nothing?”

Eddie hadn’t realized that his voice had become fast-paced and high-pitched until he noticed the look on Stan’s face. Clear confusion was evident in the way he gazed at Eddie with his brows knit in the middle and his mouth slightly agape. Eddie immediately wanted to disappear.

“Nevermind, it’s stupid.”

“No! No, sorry, I just…” Stan took a breath and sat up straighter, angling his body towards Eddie. “Okay well, experimenting with new… foods doesn’t always end up in distaste, right? Lots of people end up discovering some of their favorite… foods through exploration.”

Hearing the metaphor come out of Stan’s mouth made Eddie realize how nonsensical it was. God, he was about two seconds sway from digging himself a hole and hibernating until springtime.

“But if you’re worried about someone… Not enjoying the hot dog, just talk to them about it. Maybe they didn’t realize how their actions might hurt the… hot dog…”

Eddie and Stan stared at one another for a long pause until Stan cracked a smile, and it radiated so much warmth and comfort that Eddie couldn’t help but smile back. Soon they were falling into giggles, easing themselves into full-blown laughter at the absurdity of the conversation.

Stan had to have figured it out by now, but Eddie was thankful that he didn’t push him past what he was ready to talk about. Stan was a quality friend, and Eddie had never appreciated his presence in his life more than he did right now.

“Thanks Stan.” Eddie said honestly, bumping shoulders with him as the last of his chitters died out.

“Anytime.”

“You might want to consider the possibility that this isn’t their first time eating a hot dog though.”

“What?” Eddie blurted.

“I just mean, you’re assuming they’ve never had a hot dog before, right? Maybe they tend to lean more towards hamburgers but that doesn’t mean they’ve never been intrigued by hot dogs before. Maybe they just needed to find the right hot dog…”

Eddie’s face heated up as Stan continued to talk.

“All I’m saying is if it was truly just some reckless experimentation, they’d probably wait until college like the rest of us.”

Eddie’s head hurt, the metaphor finally losing its last small thread of sense.

“Right… wait until college to… eat a hot dog…” Eddie repeated slowly.

Stan opened his mouth to reply, but the voice that rang out wasn’t his.

“Who’s got hot dogs?”

Eddie just about jumped out of his skin, his eyes darting up to connect with Richie’s. Eddie felt like he had just been caught talking about him, which he sort of had, but Richie was none the wiser and, hopefully, neither was Stan. The only one floundering was Eddie, but boy was he in the deep end.

“NOTHING. NO ONE.” Eddie exclaimed much too loudly for the situation.

Both Stan and Richie stared back at Eddie, equally puzzled expressions on both their faces. He felt like there was a single ping pong ball bouncing around in his head at light speed, desperately trying to find an appropriate response to save himself. Thankfully, Stan was always one step ahead of him.

“We were just talking about how Eddie’s mom makes the best hot dogs.”

Eddie’s nose instinctively scrunched up at the mention of his mom during a metaphor about his sex life, but he quickly schooled his features and nodded along.

“Mmm, I’m gonna have to fight you on that until I’ve tasted them for myself. Otherwise, the best hotdogs in Derry are undoubtedly the ones from Kelso’s Diner.”

Eddie short circuited at the insinuation that Richie would indeed one day be trying Eddie’s mom’s cooking. Meaning he foresaw them continuing to be friends past this trip. Meaning, and this made Eddie’s head spin, Richie didn’t seem to have the intention of dropping Eddie the minute he got what he wanted.

What exactly did he want?

“So, Stan the man, if you don’t mind, I’m going to kick you back into the strong arms of Bill Denbrough and reclaim my rightful seat here.” Eddie couldn’t help but notice the way Stan’s face flushed just a shade darker. Was there something there that Eddie didn’t know about?

He didn’t have time to ponder Stan’s reaction to the mention of Bill Denbrough or his strong arms. Stan shot a quick ‘talk to you later’ Eddie’s way and was retreating to his seat as Richie settled into his.

Eddie’s head was swirling as his senses reacted to Richie’s proximity. He forced himself to speak through the rush of endorphins, even though all his body wanted to do was curl into Richie’s side.

“What did Bill want to talk to you about?”

“Relationship drama.” Richie answered, shrugging it off. “There’s always something with that boy.” The way Richie spoke wasn’t annoyed or exhausted, but rather amused by his friend and his ongoing antics.

“I’m glad you were able to help him.” Eddie responded genuinely.

“Yeah, me too.” Richie’s smile felt intimate, as if it were just for Eddie, even though they were talking about someone else entirely.

Eddie began to smile back but was overcome by a yawn, his face distorting as his jaw dropped on its own, too motivated by exhaustion to wait for the queue from his brain.

“Didn’t get much sleep last night?” Richie pondered.

“Uhm, yeah, I guess not.” Eddie answered sheepishly, hoping Richie didn’t connect his insomnia to their late-night encounter.

“Bummer, I slept better than I have in months. You’re a good cuddler.” Richie’s comment was dropped so casually that Eddie almost didn’t catch it, but his ears were awake enough to tinge a bright rose in response.

“Well, anyways, Mr. Daniels said we have about an hour until we get to the resort so…” Richie tapped his shoulder invitingly, and even though Eddie had been in the exact same position mere minutes ago with Stanley, it felt vastly different when the shoulder was attached to Richie.

“T-thanks.” Eddie stuttered, dipping his head low into the crook of Richie’s shoulder fast enough that he hopefully didn’t notice how much redder Eddie got.

He was sure his heart was beating too fast for him to possibly fall asleep, but the closeness to Richie rejuvenated him in another way. He let his eyes slip closed as he slowly relaxed into the comforting presence beside him.

“-ddie, hey, Eds.”

“Mmmm ‘s not my name.”

“Fine. Edward Kaspbrak, king of slumber and bearer of drool, it’s time to wake up.”

Eddie’s surroundings slowly came into consciousness as he was pulled back into awareness. The first thing he noticed was that he was in a very different orientation than when he’d last been cognizant. The second thing he noticed, and much more dreadful, was that his cheek was indeed covered in drool.

He brought a hand to his face and wiped away the moisture as quickly as he could, riding himself of any evidence Richie might be able to use against him.

Who, speaking of, was currently underneath him in a way he very much hadn’t been before.

At some point, Eddie had ended up with his head in Richie’s lap. Richie’s hand was in Eddie’s hair at the nape of his neck, gently playing with the strands as if it was an absent habit he did all the time. The act was so domestic it made Eddie want to burst into tears; whether they were sad or happy tears, he wasn’t sure.

He sat up slowly, careful not to have the blood rush to his head too quickly. The last thing he needed was to pass out in front of Richie. Who knows what kind of intimate position he’d wake up in the next time.

“We’re here, everybody’s already outside.” Richie offered as explanation for Eddie’s disrupted sleep.

“What? Why did you wait to wake me?” Eddie asked with only a tinge of annoyance. Luckily, Richie seemed to be charmed by it.

“You’re cute when you sleep, let a man indulge.”

Before Eddie could form a response, Richie was already standing up. He slung his backpack over his shoulder and made his way towards the front of the bus, leaving Eddie to fumble to catch up.

When Eddie stepped off the bus, the first thing he noticed was how white everything was. It was to be expected, of course; it’s kind of hard to ski without snow. But it was such a stark difference from where they’d been just an hour ago. The difference a small distance could make was staggering; this didn’t even feel like it belonged in the same universe.

The view was gorgeous with its tall log cabins, ski lifts moving like carousels, and snow-covered evergreens on every surface. Eddie was half tempted to throw himself down in the snow and make a snow angel.

�� But the cold nipping at his nose was a reminder that before he could indulge in any snow activities, he had to actually get equipped for the snow.

To their left, Mr. Daniels and Eric were unloading everyone’s bags from the storage compartment beneath the bus. Eddie could already spot his small suitcase, a bright pink flamingo covered hand-me-down from his mom, sitting in the snow.

While they waited, Richie’s friends sauntered over, Stan happily alongside them.

“I can’t wait to hit the slopes.” Bill greeted them as he bobbed up and down eagerly, his enthusiasm contagious.

“I’m just excited for the hot chocolate.” Beverly countered, as she wrapped her sweater a little tighter around herself. All their winter coats were stuffed in their suitcases, the cold air taking advantage of their thin jackets and exposed skin.

“Here Beverly.” Ben had shrugged off his sweater and was offering it to Beverly with a shy little quirk of his lips, but Beverly regarded it for only a moment before shaking her head. She took the sweater and threw it back over Ben’s shoulders before crowding her way into his space and snuggling right up against his chest.

“Body heat works better.” She teased lowly.

Richie let out a long, slow whistle, summing up what everyone was thinking; Beverly was sly as hell and Ben was gleefully in way over his head.

The exchange made Eddie crave Richie’s warmth, yearn to be back in that motel bed, blissfully unaware of how intimate they were being in their sleep.

There was no more being blissfully unaware, not with how Eddie’s heart beat to a different rhythm every time Richie’s arm would brush up against his.

“Alright, everyone grab your bags and follow me.” Mr. Daniels announced, finally closing the now empty compartment of the bus.

The seven of them sauntered over to the pile of suitcases and duffel bags, searching out their own among the many.

Even though Eddie had already spotted his suitcase, he pretended to search for it for a while longer until Richie found his. Only then did he grab the bright pink monstrosity by the handle and begin lugging it up the hill, Richie wordlessly in tow behind him.

They managed to reach the top of the hill without Richie stumbling too much, but as soon as Mrs. Harrow came into view there was no hiding Richie’s injury anymore.

With hawk eyes homing in, Mrs. Harrow walked over to Richie with a displeased expression.

“What happened here, Richard?”

She sounded almost exasperated, and it made Eddie want to step in and defend him.

“Oh, you know, just my bum leg. It acts up every now and then, ever since that terrible kite flying accident…” Richie looked off into the distance as if remembering a tragedy of great proportions.

Mrs. Harrow rolled her eyes. Eddie’s anger flared once again.

“Well, we can’t send you home now, so you’ll just have to spend the trip indoors. Absolutely no reckless activity, you got that Tozier?”

“Aye aye, captain!”

Mrs. Harrow didn’t acknowledge his response, simply turned her back towards them and began her search for the next student in need of scolding.

As soon as she was out of ear shot, Eddie began fuming.

“What the hell, why does Mrs. Harrow have it out for you? Can’t she see you’re hurt? Is she even capable of sympathy?”

When Eddie looked over to Richie, he saw something soft and sweet in his expression, a contrast to Eddie’s bubbling temper. “You care about me.” Richie mused with a smirk.

“W-what- no I don’t- I mean I do but- not like- shut up.” Eddie grabbed his suitcase once again and began walking away.

“You can deny it all you want, Kaspbrak. I see right through you!”

Eddie flipped Richie off over his shoulder as he disappeared through giant mahogany double doors.

Their rooms were small, a single bed meant to be shared between the two classmates who signed up to room together. Normally on school trips, the school tried to cram as many students into one room as possible, but they must have known from prior visits to the lodge that these rooms just couldn’t hold more than two at a time.

However, despite the small quarters, they were undeniably beautiful. Every surface seemed to be made from the same rich darkened wood, and every accent was bronzed. One wall was taken up by giant windows that overlooked the mountain below them, able to be hidden behind heavy curtains that took Eddie’s full force to pull closed.

Eddie and Stan didn’t spend much time in their room, stopping only briefly to drop off their luggage and get bundled up in preparation for the slopes. Eddie was practically buzzing at the opportunity to teach himself something completely foreign; it’d been a long time since a new sport had been in his reach, and he was planning on taking full advantage of the absence of Sonia.

“Are you almost ready?” Eddie bounced on the balls of his feet as he waited for Stan by the door, one hand already on the knob in anticipation.

“Yes, for god sake Eddie, I just need to find my gloves.”

Eddie’s eyes glazed over as he thought about the adrenaline rush he’d longed for. He still played tons of sports but there was something about learning a new one that left Eddie especially excited. He didn’t care much for the competitiveness of sports, and while he didn’t mind the sportsmanship of it all, it wasn’t why Eddie was motivated to get involved. Quite simply put, Eddie just wanted to play. He wanted to live out the experiences he missed out on, that pure rush that came from scraping your knees while playing soccer or face planting while diving for the volleyball. It may seem uninteresting to those who had already lived it out in childhood, but to Eddie it was nothing short of euphoric.

“Here they are!” Stan exclaimed, holding his pair of gloves above his head as he tucked everything else back inside his suitcase.

“Good, now come on, let’s goooooo.”

Eddie was already out the door before Stan could answer, but he knew he was following by the distinct sound of swishing snow pants.

They made their way down to the lobby, eagerly chatting about how fun their afternoon was going to be, when they ran straight into a brick wall of a body.

“Fucking move, queers.” Henry ground out, placing a flat hand on Eddie’s face and pushing him aside with ease.

“Henry, don’t you have anything better to do than project your internalized homophobia onto others.” Stan replied flatly.

“What the fuck did you say to me?” Henry hissed, flipping his attention to Stan with a new temper flaring.

“Stan…” Eddie warned, reaching for Stan’s hand to pull him away from the rising confrontation.

Stan seemed to pale as he realized his comment wasn’t going to be shrugged off. He tried to keep himself composed but Eddie knew his tells well enough to notice the change.

Henry’s gaze flicked down to where Eddie was trying to join hands with Stan, and a wicked grin soured his face.

“Oh, I see…” Henry began, stalking closer to the pair and causing them to stumble back. They didn’t fear Henry like they used to, but he still held some power in those eyes that had never fully ceased to make them tremble.

“You two fucking fairies together now? I should have seen it coming, pansies aren’t potted too far from one another. So, tell me, who made the first move, huh?”

Eddie’s throat was thick with fear, his eyes unable to move from where Henry’s gaze pinned them.

“Wait don’t tell me… It was you, wasn’t it, Uris? Eddie here is too limp wristed to do anything, just a little girl in sheep’s clothing. But then again, I guess if the rumors are true, you’re not completely useless. At least you give good head.”

Eddie’s face burned as he held back the tears that threatened to give him away. He was fine, Henry’s words were hollow. Eddie had already heard every gay slur Henry had in his vocabulary.

“Too bad you’re not pretty enough to turn any of them into faggo-”

Eddie’s fist moved before his brain did, lining up perfectly with Henry’s jaw and landing the punch exactly where it would hurt most. Stan flinched beside him as the sickening crack rang out in the empty hallway, followed by a wail that made snow drop from the treetops outside. Eddie didn’t move, refused to let himself back down even as the tears broke free and streamed down his face.

“KASPBRAK.”

Eddie jumped, whipping around in horror as Mrs. Harrow’s voice broke through his resolve.

“WHAT THE HELL.”

Eddie stared in shock. He’d never done anything worthy of breaking a teacher’s ‘no cursing’ rule before, though he’d seen many teachers reach their point of profanity with other students before. It sort of felt similar to when you see a teacher outside of school and are reminded that they don’t just exist inside the bubble you’ve put them in. Well, the bubble had popped, and Mrs. Harrow was now stalking towards him with a new air that absolutely paralyzed him. He wasn’t sure how to respond, so he didn’t. He just continued staring back at her, watching as she passed him and rushed over to Henry, taking his face in her hand and angling his head to assess the damage. Luckily, there was no visible injury past some reddening (though the same wouldn’t be true once the bruising began to set in).

“Eddie.” Mrs. Harrow sighed. She released Henry’s face and brought the hand up to her own, pinching the skin between her eyes as if she was fighting back a cresting headache.

She probably was.

“I’m sorry Mrs. Harrow, I didn’t-”

Eddie was interrupted with a single finger, held up intimidatingly as Mrs. Harrow continued to try and gather her patience.

“No skiing.”

“What!?”

“What about that needs clarification, Edward?”

“But I didn’t do anything!”

“I watched you punch Mr. Bowers across the face.”

“Well, yeah, but-”

“No. Skiing.”

Eddie fidgeted in place as he desperately grasped at straws in his head that could possibly get him out of this situation. Maybe if he could get Mrs. Harrow alone and just explain to her what Henry was saying-

With an exasperated sigh, Mrs. Harrow placed a hand on Henry’s shoulder and began leading him back down the hallway from which she’d appeared.

“Come on Henry, we’ll get you some ice.”

Eddie couldn’t move, he’d become cemented to the floor at some point during his meltdown.

“Eddie?” Stan’s soft voice penetrated the space between them, but it sounded distant. Anger bubbled up inside Eddie, anger that he wasn’t at all certain how to process.

“Hey, Eddie, I’m so sorry. You know none of what Bowers said was true, right?”

Like a kettle blowing its whistle, Eddie’s top popped.

“OF COURSE IT’S TRUE.”

Eddie whipped around to face Stan, his cheeks red hot as he filled with steam.

“I’M GAY, STANLEY. DON’T YOU KNOW? I’M A FUCKING FRUIT CAKE. AND NOT EVEN A GOOD FRUIT CAKE, I’M ONE OF THOSE CHRISTMAS FRUIT CAKES THAT EVERYONE JUST PUTS IN THEIR FREEZER AND FORGETS ABOUT UNTIL SUMMER. THEN THEY THROW ME OUT, BECAUSE NO ONE EVEN LIKES FRUIT CAKE STANLEY.”

“Hotdogs like fruitcakes.”

Eddie sputtered; his mind unable to connect the pieces while he was burning red hot.

“WHAT?”

He could probably stop yelling, but if Eddie let himself think too long about how he just came out to his best friend, he might melt the rest of the way into the ground and become nothing more than carpeting.

“Hotdogs. I hear they go well with fruitcakes.” Stan repeated calmly.

Eddie felt like he was going to combust.

“What are you-”

“Richie is your hotdog, right?”

At the mention of Richie, Eddie’s anger began to simmer down, exhaustion pulling at his muscles. All he could do was nod.

“Look, Eddie, if it wasn’t obvious enough already, I don’t care that you’re gay. I’m a Jewish boy scout whose nerd repertoire is more extensive than that of most comic book writers, what space do I have to judge.”

Eddie’s heart rate was settling down, the reassurance from his friend a comforting constant. This was Stanley, he’d never cared what ‘secrets’ Eddie had kept from him before, and this was no different. Well, this was a little different from the time he stole Stan’s pudding cup and then confessed an hour later out of guilt. But even then, Stan had been nothing but understanding.

“Yeah, he’s the hot dog.” Eddie’s voice was beginning to level out as well, the heat of the moment passing on.

“Richie isn’t like all those other hot dogs. He’s sure of himself in a way I’ve never met anyone else to be. The way his friends speak about him leaves no doubt in my mind that he has himself figured out; at least enough not to hurt you. He’s one of the good guys, Eddie.”

“One of the good hotdogs.” Eddie corrected.

“Yeah, I’m gonna have to drop that now that we’re being transparent with each other. I don’t like having to think about Richie’s… hotdog every time we tiptoe around your metaphor.”

Eddie’s cheeks blushed a furious shade of fuchsia as his mind also began to wander towards Richie’s hotdog.

“Richie’s stuck indoors for the next few days too, right?” Stan prompted.

“Yeah, Mrs. Harrow was pretty clear about that.” Eddie scowled at the memory. “So, you guys are stuck in lockdown together; seems like the perfect romance scenario to me.”

The more Eddie thought about it, the more things seemed to fall into place. Eddie had been excited about skiing, but what he was more excited about was this budding energy between him and Richie. Mrs. Harrow had unknowingly set up the perfect circumstance for them to spend as much time together as possible, and if Eddie could muster up the courage, he just might try to take advantage of it.

Stan and Eddie had parted hours ago, but Eddie was just now beginning to rouse back into existence.

After the fight with Henry, Eddie’s lack of sleep from the night before finally caught up with him. The nap on the bus had been helpful, but not enough to regenerate all the energy he’d lost to his anxiety the past 24 hours. As soon as he’d returned to his room he hadn’t been able to fight it anymore. He’d barely gotten his shoes off before collapsing into the inviting plush bedding and zonking out for three hours.

Lucky for Eddie, three hours didn’t put him back that much. It was dinner time, but Eddie knew most of the students were prepared to stay on the slopes until the late hours of the night (or at least until teacher enforced curfew).

Eddie was overheating, having fallen asleep with his winter coat and snow pants on. He was surprised he hadn’t died in his sleep from a layer induced fever. Could that even happen? Well, Eddie wasn’t keen on finding out today. He promptly stripped off the stifling clothing and did the same with his undergarments. While the suffocating layers may not have killed him, they had certainly left him covered in sweat.

Eddie trailed into the bathroom, catching a glimpse of his naked form in the mirror and stopping. He turned fully towards his reflection, squinting as if sizing himself up.

He wasn’t very buff, but he was nicely filled out from years of dabbling in sports. He definitely still had a thinner body, his waist dipping in elegantly before flaring back out into hips that, quite honestly, were pretty generous for a man. Eddie didn’t love his body, but who did? Everyone had issues to point out if they took a magnifying glass to themselves, but overall, Eddie was pleased with his appearance.

He hoped that Richie would be too, if they ever ended up there.

Eddie turned to the side, assessing his profile. He wondered what it would look like if Richie was slotted in behind him, arms wrapped tight around Eddie’s thin waist to hold him close. The height difference alone would cause Eddie to look small in comparison; Richie was an absolute tree. The thought shouldn’t have made Eddie feel as hot as it did, but he soon found himself heating up again.

Eddie leaned over the sink, resting his elbows on the edge so he could lean in close to his figure. His cock brushed up against the cold wood surface of the counter and he gasped in surprise, looking down to find it peering up at him in intrigue.

Eddie’s wonderings about Richie must have gotten him a little more worked up than he’d anticipated.

Glancing back up at himself in the mirror, Eddie let one hand trail down to the spot between his legs. He grasped himself as he pictured Richie behind him, staring back at him through their reflections with that enticing grin.

‘What, Eds. Don’t think I’ll fuck you right here in the bathroom?’

Eddie moaned quietly to himself, picturing just how he’d respond to Richie’s teasing.

‘I bet you won’t, Tozier. Too afraid of someone walking in on us. You’re all talk but no game.’

Eddie would dangle the challenge in front of Richie knowing full well that he wouldn’t back down. He’d take Eddie’s hips and thrust himself inside without hesitation, just one single move would be all it took for Richie to fill him up.

Eddie’s wrist cramped from the awkward angle he held it at, but he refused to move from his spot bent over the sink, too caught up in the fantasy.

He replayed the moans he’d committed to memory the night before, those sinful sounds that Richie seemed to let slip out like he didn’t know they were poisonous darts striking right through Eddie’s skin.

‘Richie…’ Eddie moaned, the sound echoing in the empty bathroom.

‘Eddie…’ He could hear Richie say, pounding into him at a relentless pace that would leave bruises on Eddie’s skin from where he slammed into the countertop.

And then Eddie was releasing into his fist, cum pooling over and dripping into the sink. His body shook with shock and his toes curled, eyes squeezing shut as he milked the last bit out of himself before going completely slack.

He was grateful that counter was there to hold him up, because if not he would have probably fallen to the floor.

It took a moment for Eddie to finally open his eyes again, but when he did, he was surprised at how disappointed he was that Richie wasn’t actually there. He knew he’d gotten lost in his mind, but it didn’t ease his despondency.

Eddie stepped into the shower, committing himself to not think about Richie at least until he returned squeaky clean.

It didn’t work.

Eddie had thought about Richie the entire shower.

Eddie tried to let his worry be soothed by Stan’s words, though it continued to flare at the least opportune times. Eddie accepted that he probably wouldn’t be completely placated until he had Richie do it himself, hopefully through tender hands and soothing touches.

Eddie redressed himself, this time forgoing the heavy layers in favor of a warm wool sweater and comfortable sweatpants. He didn’t bother styling his hair, too set on hunting down Richie to care whether his locks were combed to the left or to the right.

He quickly pocketed his cellphone and room key, setting off in search of the only other student in the building.

Eddie didn’t know Richie’s room number, so he took a gamble and wandered into the lobby. There was a pool table in the center of the room, looking lonely as those around it chose to read a book by the fireplace or chat quietly by the windows. There weren’t many people to speak of, so it was easy to quickly spot that familiar face that made Eddie’s heart skip.

Richie was laying across one of the couches, arms flung across his chest in protest. He was grumbling lowly to the man sitting a seat away, which Eddie recognized as their bus driver.

“And so, in walks the other prisoner.” Eric drawled as he noticed Eddie, an easy smile on his face.

Richie’s head popped up quickly, his curls bouncing as they tried to keep up with the swift change in position. Once Richie saw Eddie, the rest of his body followed enthusiastically as he jumped up from his seat.

“EDDIE!” Richie cheered loudly, before quickly clearing his throat and lowering his voice to a more lobby-appropriate volume. “What are you doing here?”

“Uhh, I sort of…” Eddie chanced a glance over Richie’s shoulder, noting that Eric wasn’t paying attention to their conversation. “punched Henry Bowers.” He mumbled lowly.

“YOU WHAT!?”

“SHHHHH!” Eddie grabbed Richie by the arm and pulled him back down to the couch, looking around them anxiously to see if Richie had drawn any eyes. “It’s not a big deal, okay?” Eddie added once he was sure no one was listening in.

“Uhm, I’d say punching the guy who’s made everyone’s life a living hell for the past four years counts as a big deal.” Richie challenged.

Eddie sighed, letting himself lean back into the leather couch as he chewed on his bottom lip. Richie wasn’t wrong, it wasn’t not a big deal, but Eddie wasn’t the violent type. He hadn’t meant to do what he’d done; he’d just snapped. He didn’t regret it, but he didn’t want to dwell on it either, especially since dwelling on it meant remembering all that lead up to it.

“Can we talk about something else please?” Eddie asked, his voice small and begging.

Richie was clearly itching for more details, but he still dropped the subject as he copied Eddie’s position sinking into the couch.

“So, what are you doing here?” Eddie asked, grateful that Richie had respected his request.

“Eric’s on babysitting duty.” Richie nodded over to Eric who sent them a thumbs up without looking away from his phone. “Mrs. Harrow doesn’t trust me to stay inside.”

“I mean, to be fair, neither do I.” Eddie mused, a smirk playing on his face.

Richie bumped his shoulder into Eddie’s, feigning offence even as laughter spilled from his chest.

“Fine, but at least leave me with something to do, you know? I’m not a convict, I’m injured!” Richie lifted his leg and pointed to his ankle as if to prove his point.

“As the convict here, I take offense to that.” Eddie teased.

“Well, Eddie, how do you feel about reformation?” Eric asked. As Eddie regarded him, he saw that Eric had pocketed his phone and was now leaning towards them in engagement.

Eddie narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Depends on what sort of reformation.”

“Why don’t you take over guard duty?” Eric offered, nodding towards Richie. “Personally, I’d have let Richie stay in his room anyway, but I was given my orders. If you make sure he doesn’t leave, then at least the two of you can spend your evening watching TV or something. Just don’t let anyone see you outside your rooms, I don’t want to get in trouble for abandoning post. Mrs. Harrow is scary when she’s mad.”

Eric mimicked a shiver running down his spine before shaking it off, smiling at the two of them warmly.

“Eric, as per usual, you are the BEST.” Richie cheered.

“Yeah, I know.”

Richie and Eddie wasted no time before scrambling to their feet and jetting out of the lobby. They didn’t discuss whose room they were going to, but once Richie pressed his floor number on the elevator keypad it was unspoken.

Eddie was going to be alone in a room with Richie. Unsupervised. For hours.

Eddie was going to shit his pants.

#reddie #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #reddie fanfic #reddie fanfiction #reddie smut #reddie lemon #my posts #my writing #OTEOAA

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colonel-insomniac · 4 years

Text

Read more of my spongebob work here.

10,000 years will give you such a crick in the neck

Just a quick note, Red Light is a song by The Regrettes and I absolutely love their music style it just feels very 80’s girl pop. So that’s where the song is from, and Lacy Loo, another song by them, is referenced as well. Also a certain voice actors Instagram was the inspiration behind Sponge In The High Seas . It was Tom Kenny, his Instagram handle is TomKennyandthehiseas. I just couldn’t resist.

“You can’t love me, you’re not allowed to…”

Patrick Starr was absolutely smitten with the leader of the popular 80’s style band, Sponge In The High Seas. The band’s leader was a short young boy, 19 years old. He had slightly curly auburn hair that bounced slightly when the music called for it. This boy’s whole aesthetic was mainly pinks, but branched to pastels too.

“‘Cause if you did, I’d probably run from you…”

Tonight, his outfit was a large pink sweater tucked into a pair of shorts with what Patrick can only assume are either cherries or strawberries. Maybe flowers? Anyways, he also had these circular pink sunglasses perched on his nose, although the indoor location and the time of day didn’t really call for them.

Patrick sat in his usual spot, towards the back so as to not be noticed or bothered. Next to him, Sandy was perched on her chair, fidgeting and nervously tapping her fingers against one another. It reminded Patrick of a squirrel, but he wouldn’t dare say that to Sandy.

There are other things he’d never tell Sandy. Like, for example, that he used to know the lead singer of Sponge In The High Seas. Bobby is his name—well, Robert, technically, but he always went by Bobby. He didn’t like his full name for some reason so he would always opt to go by the shortened version.

“You can’t hate me, though you probably do…”

They didn’t have a falling out or anything. Pat had had to leave the beach town he grew up in for a while. It’d been after a fight with his parents, he left and only grabbed his phone, charger, wallet, and car keys. He left and didn’t tell anyone. Didn’t message anyone because he was so desperate to try and keep himself from breaking down. But when he got that first phone call from Bobby, and heard the teary voicemail left when Pat didn’t pick up, he’d had to pull over onto the side of the road. Too many tears, he couldn’t see.

He came to the town roughly a month ago, and found that with no reason to stay, his parents had left. It was kinda disheartening, Patrick thought, to find that his parents hadn’t cared enough to try and find him. And when hed came to his favorite diner and found Bobby on the stage, he had made sure to sit where Bobby wouldn’t be able to see him. He wasn’t ready to face his best buddy yet.

“Cause then I might just die and have to blame you…”

Other than Bobby, the band consisted of one Edward Telford. That part was a shock to Pat, Eddie couldn’t stand Bobby when Pat had skipped town. It was one of his favorite things to think about when he was alone at night.

Pat had managed to come up with all sorts of crazy theories, but none that were probably real. Stranger than Eddie willingly being in a band with Bobby, he was also playing guitar. Pat didn’t know that Eddie could play guitar. Pearl was on drums, which was entertaining to watch, because he knew there had to be some sort of conversation with Eugene Krabbes, Bobby’s manager at the Krusty Krabbe. Or was, Pat didn’t know if Bobby was still working there. Obviously.

“I think it’s about time you go up to him.” Sandy whispered to Patrick, still watching. He knew she was probably right, because Sandy is super smart, but the thought made his stomach clench.

Sandy and Pat had met when Patrick had first come back to town. He was sitting in a grassy park, and she approached him, big smile and country twang. When she’d mentioned Bobby, Patrick had immediately trusted her enough to tell her everything. If Bobby truly let her be close to him, then she’s got to be a good person.

Because although Bobby’s always been super kind to everyone, only a few people got allowed into his close circle.

“I can’t breathe, well maybe that’s okay…”

When Patrick shrugged his shoulders, Sandy let out a quiet sigh: “Now Patrick Starr, you listen to me. Bobby misses you, yer all he talks about.” Patrick shrugs agains and crosses his arms. He doesn’t wanna talk about this right now.

“Do you know why he formed this band?” Pat shakes his head and clamps his hands over his ears. He can’t know. He has a feeling if he knows, he’s gonna spiral out of control.

Sandy pushes gently on his arms, sympathy filling her eyes. “He’s doing other to find you. He told me all about it. Thinks somehow you’ll show up at one of his concerts and approach him.” When he looks at her, she hurriedly adds “don’t give me that look, you oughta know I ain’t told him yet. But that doesn’t mean I feel good about lyin’ to the poor boy. Half these songs are about you, Patrick. I know you ain’t a dimwit, you must’ve figured that out by this point.”

“Maybe I’ll just save it for another rainy day…”

He thinks of the song Lacy Loo, thinks how he thought maybe that song was about him. He’d dismissed it at the time, figuring he’d read too deep. But now, there’s a possibility that it’d all been true.

“I can’t…I’m not ready yet.” Is his response, and he can see Sandy roll her eyes in the dim light. He’s watching her intently, looking for any sign of deception.

“I reckon you’re ready Pat.” She pats his arm lightly. “‘Sides, I told Bobby I’d meet him after he finished tonight.” Pat could feel the blood drain out of his face as he spluttered, managing to hiss out an incredulous ‘what?!’

“I can’t sleep, well maybe that’s alright…”

Sandy nods, and they turn back to face the stage when Bobby talks into the microphone. “Alright folks,” Pat notes the pleasant smile on Bobby’s face. “This is the last song of the night.” Bobby proceeds to laugh at the protests from the audience. The laughter gets a smile out of Patrick, a tiny one.

But now all Pat can think about is the reunion in just a few minutes. He’s so nervous, he can hardly hear the number over his thinking.

Sandy must be able to tell that Patrick is debating running out of the diner because she rests her hand on his wrist and gives him a stern look that glues him in his place. He doesn’t want this, but he’s also too scared of Sandy to shake her off and leave. She knows where he lives, too, so he stays put. Maybe he can slip out before without her noticing.

“I can save my sleeping for another empty night…”

The song ends, and Patrick stands when everyone else does, giving the band a standing ovation. Bobby bows and gestures at Eddie and Pearl, who also bow. Pearl also gives a peace sign at the hoots regarding her as the background vocalist. Pat has to admit she deserves it, her voice is amazing, angelic, Pat thinks.

“Before you all go for the night, please, if you know Patrick Starr and have any information of his whereabouts or safety, please don’t hesitate to let me know.” Patrick’s cheeks heat up in shame, the pleading look in Bobby’s eyes like a stab in the heart.

Sandy grabs Patrick’s arm and steers him towards the stage. Bobby’s turned around and pointing at something as he chats with a crew member. Eddie and Pearl are also not facing him, which is good for the moment. Patrick watches as Bobby runs a hand through his messy hair, and smiles when he catches sight of pink nail polish. Pearl must’ve put it on him.

“Kiss me at the red light one more time…”

Sandy politely waits for Bobby and the care guy to finish talking before she reaches up and taps Bobby on the back.

This happens in slow mo for Patrick, and each second that passes feels like an hour, and he grows increasingly panicked. Adrenaline kicks in as a result, and he has to fight the urge to turn on his heel and leave.

Bobby turns and gives Sandy a beaming smile, hopping off the stage to give her a hug. He hasn’t et noticed Bobby, and that’s the thing everyone loves about him. When Bobby’s talking to you, he gives you his full attention and it makes you feel like you’re the only thing that matters in life.

But it makes Pat shift from foot to foot. He freezes when Sandy gestures in his direction. “I brought someone for you.” Bobby turns, brows scrunched in confusion, but they fly up when he makes eye contact with Pat. His mouth falls open into an ‘O’ shape.

“Every time I think of you feels like a crime…”

Patrick smiles sheepishly, offering a half a wave. Bobby’s hand covers his mouth and his eyes fill with tears. Patrick falters, and sucks in a breath. Go figure he’d mess this up somehow. He gives a pointed look at Sandy, who shakes her head and mouths the word “wait.”

“Bobby—“ is all he whispers before the boy in pink launches himself at Patrick, openly sobbing into Patrick’s hoodie.

“I never thought you’d come back.” Bobby sniffs after a minute, pulling away and apologizing at the tear stains on Patrick.

Pat waves the apology away, claiming it’s not a big deal. And then Bobby’s face gets serious and he grabs Pat’s hand, dragging him to an empty table. “Where were you and why wouldn’t you answer my calls and texts?” He demands and Pat knows that he owes Bobby so much more than an apology, so much more than an explanation.

He explains everything to Bobby, that night in detail. The raised voices, his parents telling him he’d never get anywhere in life because he couldn’t make above a C in anything other than his photography and music classes. Him shooting back claiming he wanted to study in music and photography. Trying to get them to understand that school just didn’t make sense to him. The terms they slung at him that night, hurling each one like a punch to his body.

He explained the split second decision to run away, pulling over when he heard Bobby’s voicemail. How he’d never stopped feeling bad about leaving Bobby. How Bobby hadn’t left his mind once in his absence.

“I could be green, red, orange, purple or blue…”

When he finishes, Bobby’s crying again, eyes swimming with muted anger, sorrow, and hurt. Pat’s heart pangs, because Bobby should never cry. After a moment of silence, Pat whispers “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left and not told you anything.”

Bobby shakes his head, and pulls Patrick into a hug, gripping the fabric of his hoodie like Patrick will disappear if he doesn’t. “I get why you didn’t. You needed to have a bit by yourself.”

Pat rests his chin on Bobby's head, holding his freckled friend close. “Still. I shoulda said something. You woulda known how to keep me from running.”

“Next time come to me. I don’t wanna lose you again Pat.” Pat nods, and he smiles as Bobby draws images into the back of Patrick’s hoodie with his finger. His skin lights up despite the clothing.

“But you’re also amazing on stage. I promise that I won’t run without going to you and even then I’ll try not to run as long as you’re not beside me. Figuratively and literally.”

Bobby pulls away, smiling, and cups Patrick’s chin with his hands, and kisses him once. Patrick’s startled, and Bobby pulls away, muttering a “sorry.”

Patrick’s the one who grins first. “Don’t worry about it. I like you, so….” he trails off, unsure of what to say next.

Bobby laughs. “I like you too, you big dork. I wouldn’t get upset over just anyone leaving me like that.” He rolls his eyes playfully, but the comment stings Patrick a little, and Bobby’s quick to realize it. He cringes, opening his mouth to apologize but pat kisses him. “Don’t worry ‘bout it.”

Bobby grins, and intertwines their fingers as he pulls pat behind him so he can finish cleaning up for the night, trying to make sure Pat won’t disappear. For once, Pat can’t be bothered to even try and complain about cleaning. He just wants to be with Bobby.

“Only if it means that I’m keeping you.”

#spongebob #patrick star #mr krabs #patrick #squidward #sandy #volcano #patbob #patbob spongerick #spongerick #bikini bottom #my work #my writing #spongebob musical live on nick #spongebob the musical live on stage

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aion-rsa · 4 years

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Psych 2: Lassie Come Home Easter Egg and Reference Guide

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The following contains spoilers for Psych 2: Lassie Come Home.

As fun as 2017’s Psych: The Movie was, its 2020 sequel Psych 2: Lassie Come Home will likely supplant it in Psych-Os’ hearts, because it’s got 500% more Carlton Lassiter (Timothy Omundson). But how does it stack up to its predecessor in terms of Psych callbacks and pop culture homages? Using our Spencer powers of observation, we’ve tried to catch every recurring inside joke between Shawn (James Roday Rodriguez) and Gus (Dulé Hill), plus all the episodic-specific bits. It’s a feature-length Hitchcock homage, but it’s also the toughest Easter egg hunt of your life. C’mon, son!

Psych 2: Lassie Come Home Easter Eggs and References

The title is a reference to Lassie Come Home, the 1943 Lassie movie about the beloved dog making her way home from Scotland. A German-language remake came out early in 2020.

It’s always a treat to hear the Psych theme song “I Know, You Know,” performed by creator Steve Franks and his band The Friendly Indians.

Lassiter wakes up to Shawn and Gus hovering above him at the recovery clinic is a throwback to when they kidnapped him for his bachelor party in “Deez Nups” and he came to with them screaming “Surpriiise!”

Morrissey the rescue dog reprises his role from Psych: The Movie in being adorable, incredibly nosy, and oblivious to Shawn’s hissing commands.

Sarah Chalke’s nurse character Dolores is most likely a nod to San Francisco’s Mission Dolores church and cemetery, the location for Carlotta Valdes’ grave in Vertigo.

Right out the gate, Dolores is treated to the requisite Gus nickname: “My name is Shawn Spencer, and this is my partner Bill Poopingtons.” However, Shawn and Gus take a sidebar for a very meta argument about their ongoing bit (while fitting in another bit):

“Gus, don’t be the night your dad fell asleep inside your mom. We can’t just stop doing bits we’ve been doing for ten years. We have fans, they have expectations, there’ll be a huge backlash.”

“Shawn, we are two dumbasses, we do not have fans.”

Compromise: Gus gets right of refusal until they land on a nickname he prefers. And so:

Bill Poopingtons > All the Pips in One

Ding-Dong Ditch > Claude O’Dern > Big Poppa Pump > Lemon-a Lemon-a Lemon-a Liiime

Leggo My Eggo > Norman Brown Butter > Dijon Hounsou

Gus also calls himself Jermajesty, channeling some Jackson Five energy.

“Black Jello” was Gus’ nickname in their adult dodgeball league.

The Herschel House is likely a nod to Herschel Daugherty, who directed over two dozen episodes of Alfred Hitchcock Presents…

Gus and Shawn are still bickering over driving the drivers ed car, even if we don’t see it in the movie. They do manage to be just as bad at turning the right direction when riding a motorcycle together.

“Now I know this ‘goofy little white guy/sexy black dude’ routine the two of you have going like the back of my scrubs.” Sarah Chalke played Elliot on Scrubs, whose JD/Turk bromance walked so that Shawn/Gus could run.

Shawn calls Dolores “the nurse from Color of Night,” the 1994 Bruce Willis erotic mystery thriller that won a Golden Raspberry for Worst Picture.

The boys get Jamba Juice because you never turn down an opportunity for a Jamba.

Shawn likens Gus’ pubic hair to Eddie Murphy’s mustache in his 1987 stand-up film Raw.

Shawn offers the dismembered hand to Gus to “knuck it up softly,” per their penchant for fist-bumping.

They later do fist-bump outside the old Psych offices, but not before channeling Han Solo and Chewbacca in Star Wars: The Force Awakens: “Gus, we’re home.” “[Wookiee sound]”

Psych has become a French-themed cat café… for now, at least. It’s not an alternative universe from Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse, but the current subletter’s pop-up business. The proprietor (not the girl from Orphan) is played by Allison Miller, James Roday Rodriguez’s co-star in A Million Little Things.

“I am a psychic. He is a sympathetic pooper.” Poor Gus’ intestinal system gets called out again.

Henry’s (Corbin Bernsen) put-on voice gets compared to Tom Waits, Kathleen Turner, Harvey Fierstein, and Diedrich Bader.

Shawn neglected to tell his landlord that he’d moved, which tracks with his behavior in the series finale “The Break-Up.”

Henry reveals that in addition to telenovelas, he enjoys zeitgeist-y sobfests: “You left behind a slow cooker with a three-pound roast in it. You nearly This Is Us-ed the entire block.”

“This Is Us—Dad, why are you watching that show? They have the same show on ABC but newer”: Shawn’s shoutout to A Million Little Things.

Lassiter mistakes Reese Kessler, his supposed shooter, for country music singer Conway Twitty.

Lassiter’s to-do list includes “tape Galavant,” the short-lived musical comedy fantasy series created by Dan Fogelman (This Is Us), in which Timothy Omundson played King Richard. It also includes items poking fun at Lassiter’s crankiness (“yell at nature,” “chirping bird d-day plan”) and tenacity (“solve black dahlia”), and heartstring-tugging items (“pre-register for ironman” as in the triathlon). He also has written down Shawn’s S.E.I.Z.E. mantra from his short-lived career as Lassiter’s life coach in “S.E.I.Z.E. the Day”: Seize Eggs I don’t know Zebra Eighties.

Juliet (Maggie Lawson) lying to Shawn sounds strange, though not as strange as Lupita Nyong’o—the Tethered Lupita—in Jordan Peele’s Us.

Shawn’s “romantic dinner” for Jules is the menu from A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving (jelly beans, pretzels, buttered toast, popcorn, and ice cream sundaes) because it’s all they had at the gas station on the way home.

That prompts an iconic “C’mon, son!” from Gus.

Gus’ ringtone is “I’m Mr. Bootyman,” which is both Henry’s ringtone and the song featured in Buzz McNab’s bachelorette party stripper routine in “Deez Nups.”

Gus’ (technically Jules’) green snuggie bears a striking resemblance to official Psych contest merch.

Lassiter spotting mysterious bleeding figures out his window is an homage to Rear Window.

Richard Schiff (as Dr. Herschel) was Dulé Hill’s co-star in The West Wing.

Potterhead Gus wants to know if there are any people hiding in the pipes of the Herschel House, “speaking in their own tongue, perhaps Parsel.”

The Psych boys’ map of suspects briefly includes the Hell Hag from Gus’ dreams in “A Nightmare on State Street.”

Shawn has only been to Norway once with his brother-in-law Ewan O’Hara (John Cena), but they don’t talk about that… Maybe that’s where Psych: The Movie went after its cliffhanger ending?

Ova’s Norwegian song/chant toast at the Viking’s Ice Den is very similar to the Swedish toast in “Right Turn or Left for Dead.”

Ova’s violent son Per is first described as “the bearded Daryl Hannah.”

Shawn’s excuse to Detective Buzz McNab (Sage Brocklebank) for being in Santa Barbara is that he forgot a frisbee signed by German writer/director Florian Henckel von Donnersmarck.

Shawn’s first reaction to Jules potentially being pregnant: “You know the windows in the loft don’t even fully close, right? I’m gonna have to replace them, otherwise this is Baby’s Day Out all over again.” As Gus reassures him, he always did get worked up over John Hughes’ worst idea.

At the old Psych offices, Shawn pulls out the jousting lance from “100 Clues”—as well as a pineapple! He looks about to ask, “Should we cut this up for the road?” (his question during the pineapple’s first appearance in the pilot, plus at the end of Psych: The Movie) but stops himself.

When Lassie believes that fellow patient Mr. Wilkerson (Kadeem Hardison) has been walking around, Shawn and Gus have to go “full Dirty Rotten Scoundrels” to interrogate the supposedly catatonic patient.

Shoutout to Jessie Spano’s infamous “I’m so excited, I’m so excited, I’m so scared!” speed speech from Saved by the Bell.

If it’s not Scrubs, the boys are getting compared to Ren and Stimpy.

Mary Lightly (Jimmi Simpson) returns in another incredible, extra-hallucinatory look into Shawn’s brain… this time as a baby, since Shawn’s got fatherhood on the brain.

“We got jackaled!” Gus shouts upon learning that Wilkerson can walk—a reference to “hitting the jackal switch,” or going into stealth mode.

Shawn has always had a thing for singer Jewel, even after the Civil War movie (1999’s Ride with the Devil) and the Bollywood song.

Of course there’s a nasty dance when Shawn and Gus figure out who they think is behind everything.

Gus declares that “I am not going to let you shoot Shules’ baby!” only for the Chief (Kirsten Nelson) to ask, “What’s a Shules?” That’s the fans’ name for Shawn/Jules, a cute nod to a series OTP.

And of course, we can’t forget the fact that Jazmyn Simon, who plays Selene, is Dulé Hill’s real-life wife.

More than once, Shawn quotes The Handmaid’s Tale in reference to Gus and Selene’s baby: “Praise be” and “Blessed is the fruit.”

Dolores compliments Lassiter’s “chest of hair plentiful enough to wake all of Destiny’s Child.”

Shawn comes up with possible names for Gus’ child: Shaft, Shaftie, or D’Shaft—just like Gus’ nickname Sh’Dynasty (with a “God’s comma,” or apostrophe) from “Santabarbaratown.”

They also both coo “c’mon son” to Selene’s womb.

Selene’s proposal to Gus includes his negotiation that he and Shawn have adjacent homes with connecting pools, a callback to Shawn and Gus talking about their dream setup in “The Break-Up”; as well as Pluto! She asks, “Will you make me the happiest woman on this planet, on Eres, and Pluto?”

Shawn tells Juliet that “you’re my person,” the iconic Grey’s Anatomy line (though one would argue that Gus more accurately is his person).

When Lassiter stands (shut up, you’re crying) to meet Marlowe (Kristy Swanson), they place their palms together—like they did when he would visit her in jail, like they did at their wedding. My heart.

Join us on the Easter egg hunt—let us know what references we missed!

The post Psych 2: Lassie Come Home Easter Egg and Reference Guide appeared first on Den of Geek.

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warehouse13pod · 6 years

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Show Notes 103 "Magnetism"

Agents, you are getting sleepy… Very sleepy…

Click play on the player above to listen to this week’s episode while you read, if you so choose.

Wow! We covered so much this week! Where to start… Where to start…

Well, first of all, we had a lovely Warehouse Agent from our Patreon page where people can be Patrons for our show (Hey, did I mention we have a Patreon) introduce us!

This week’s Warehouse Agent was a representative from Emp-RSS.com, an online presence dedicated to empowering women to find their voice and providing mentors for young women entering the workforce. I can’t think of a Patron more appropriate to Myka’s arc this episode.

So, the first thing we had questions about was what all the jurisdictions were for the Secret Service, CIA, FBI, and NSA. I linked the answers above, They’re pretty dry, BUT—

The interesting thing I found—as a person who is decidedly NOT a law enforcement agent or a lawyer—is that basically the Secret Service’s jurisdiction is basically whatever protects presidents, vice presidents, former presidents and their spouses and children. Unlike other agencies that have geologically defined jurisdictions, the Secret Service’s jurisdiction seems pretty vague. I can definitely see how that could be exploited by the Warehouse. Pete and Myka are technically protecting those people but also protecting, like, literally everyone else in the world. LOL.

The episode opened with Pete and Myka in France taking the blade of the guillotine that took the life (and head!) of Marie Antoinette. Want to know more about Marie Antoinette and her grizzly end? Boy, oh boy do the History Chicks have you covered! They have an amazingly detailed and informative two part episode dedicated to her fascinating life—there was much more to her than a beheading and a misquote about some cake (Part 1, Part 2). The link to each part links to the audio for each episode as well as the show notes for each respective section. Don’t worry about the fact that the episode is called a “reboot.” You’re not missing something. The first episode of the History Chicks ever recorded was about Marie Antoinette, and it was very poor audio quality. They deleted the original file, re-recorded the episode, and included new information the second time around—hence, reboot.

Still not enough Marie? Don’t worry! There’s more! On the History Chicks’ side podcast, The Recappery, they recap the 2006 film, Marie Antoinette. That episode is also a two-parter (Part 1, Part 2).

There are so many emotional moments in Marie Antoinette’s life that could have led to the creation of artifacts. The History Chicks cover those and anything else you want to know, too! They did a series of Biography Channel mini-documentaries on famous historical women. Three(!) of them focused on Marie Antoinette: a general one about her life, one about the scandalous but rarely discussed affair of the diamond necklace, and one about her small house called the Petit Trianon on the grounds of Versailles.

Moving on, we talked about the famous Mission Impossible scene that Pete was attempting to imitate with perhaps, ahem, a tad less grace. This is the image we were talking about:

Miranda brilliantly discussed the importance of Affect Theory to the Warehouse and its artifacts. Here’s a very brief overview about that.

Miranda made a reference to the purple goo shower that Artie inflicted on Myka and Pete being like slime. For those who didn’t grow up watching the American television network, Nickelodeon, here’s what you need to know about getting slimed. It was a huge thing when we were growing up. On kid/family game shows on Nick (the affectionate slang name for Nickelodeon Network), contestants who lost or got a wrong answer or who won a prize were punished/rewarded with being slimed—i.e. having green goo rained down upon you from above. Why were punishments and rewards both related to slime??? 1) Because it’s always funny to see adults have copious amounts of green goop poured onto adults heads. 2) It supposedly tasted like vanilla pudding!

To this day, adults attending or presenting at the Kids Choice Awards (presented by Nick) should be wary…anybody can be slimed.

We also mentioned that Myka and Jill share a love of True Religion flap-pocket jeans. Here’s what those are.

We talked about the collaborative involvement between M.C. Escher, Nikola Tesla, and Thomas Edison in the early days of the Warehouse.

Tesla and Edison didn’t like each other very much. And the internet is full of links that can fill you in as to why. I wouldn’t even know where to start. So, instead, please enjoy this rap battle between Tesla and Edison from the legendary Epic Rap Battles of History YouTube channel. (I can’t speak for Miranda, but I am totally #TeamTesla).

We also went into a little more detail on M.C. Escher. In particular, we discussed his art works, Relativity and Drawing Hands.

We also discussed his vital contributions to science and to mathematics (Math Link 1, Math Link 2).

Jill also talked about how much second-hand embarrassment she felt when Myka started talking about how much she hated men to Father Braid. Here’s actual footage of Jillian watching that scene.

That scene and earlier discussions of Myka’s feminist rage led to a discussion about the Bechdel Test. The test is a huge part of feminist theory, media studies, and film studies. And, honestly, it’s a super low bar that you’d be astounded how few pieces of media even reach. Want to see if your favorite movie passes the test? Click here! There’s actually a film festival dedicated to celebrating films that pass the test. The theory is not without its critics, however. Many people think that the bar of the Bechdel Test is not high enough and we need to expect more of female representation in media than their mere existence in scenes together and the absence of discussions about men. I’m inclined to agree that we should expect more, but I also think that the Bechdel Test is still a great way to assess if a piece of media is able to do a basic job of representing women on screen. Interested in the criticism? There’s an op-ed from The Washington Post and The Verge that might pique your interest.

When discussing magnetism, with Jill and with our incredible and intelligent guest, Kameron Sanzo, Miranda mentioned her (not really) favorite song (LOL). Here’s that song that asks the ever important question, “Fuckin’ Magnets. How do they work?!”

If you’re actually interested, this is how magnets work.

Anyway…

Other things Miranda discussed with our guest, Kameron Sanzo, include animal magnetism and mesmerism as well as hypnosis. Some cursory information about the founder of Mesmerism, Anton Mesmer, can be found here. A fun exploration of mesmerism can be found in the eleventh episode of the Audible original podcast, Stephen Fry’s Victorian Secrets, which has been linked before in a previous episode’s show notes, because of its relevance to Spiritualism. You can purchase the podcast from Amazon or with an Audible subscription.

Of course, this episode would not be complete without addressing the creator of this week’s artifact, James Braid. There was some discussion of the similarities and differences between hypnosis and mesmerism especially before and after the development of the scientific method.

Now, I’m not a doctor.

(And yes, I know that fans of Brooklyn Nine-Nine and Parks and Recreation just said “Not a doctor” in the voice from the end credits. Don’t worry, Internet. I’ve provided a clip of that for you, also)

Now that we’ve got that out of the way…

I’m not a doctor and don’t want to seem like I know too much about the evolution and modern usage of hypnosis/hypnotherapy in a medical sense. But what I can say is that—while mesmerism is widely understood by scientists to not be a real thing—hypnotherapy is actually still quite relevant to modern medicine. Its origin may share the outlandish nature of mesmerism. However, there is apparently a difference between traditional and modern hypnosis. There is also a difference between hypnosis and hypnotherapy. The Mayo Clinic goes into more detail on the topic as does Psychology Today.

Kameron Sanzo also compared mesmerism and hypnosis with Reiki. Here’s a couple links that provide more information on what Reiki is (Link 1, Link 2).

Finally, we also discussed the use of filmic language and angles and how they can induce feelings of fear and anxiety. No one was better at this than Alfred Hitchcock. Here’s some information on the filmic language he created (high-angle shots, other techniques).

Now, let’s delve into some ~Heavy Themes~

We gave a shout-out to Eddie McClintock to celebrate his 18 years of sobriety! A monumental achievement!

Addiction is a serious issue and if the themes covered in this episode of the podcast or show regarding addiction affected you in any way and you need or want help, here are some links that may provide what you’re looking for.

For substance abuse, please consult Alcoholics Anonymous or Narcotics Anonymous. If you are a loved one of someone who struggles with alcoholism, there are resources for you, too! Please check out Al-Anon—not to be confused with Alcoholics Anonymous.

The episode also with issues of suicide, abuse, and gun violence. Please, please reach out if you are struggling with trauma or mental wellness as a result of abuse, mental illness, or any other reason.

Some resources that may help (where possible, phone numbers are listed beside links to resources in case your web usage is monitored and you don’t feel safe clicking links):

The Suicide Prevention Lifeline: 1-800-273-8255

The Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration: 1-800-622-HELP (1-800-622-4357)

For LGBTQIA+ listeners who are struggling, here is a whole list of resources.

The Domestic Violence Hotline: 1-800-799-7233

Finally, if you are non-verbal or are deaf/hard of hearing/unable to use a phone for any reason: THERE ARE STILL RESOURCES FOR YOU!!!!

Please, don’t give up hope.

Check out the Crisis Text Line: Text HOME to 741741

We love you. Stay safe, Agents.

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spideyyverse · 7 years

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Grease! AU

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3| Part 4

Chapter: 4/7

Characters: Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak, Beverly Marsh, Ben Hanscom, Stan Uris, Mike Hanlon, Bill Denbrough, Audra Phillips

Pairings: Reddie, Stenbrough, Benverly, Madura (Audra x Mike)

Warnings: Homophobia, swearing, underage drinking and smoking

Word Count: 1,986

Author Notes: Chapters will be based on a song from the movie, I’m not sure I’ll do each song but if there’s a specific song you would like me to include, let me know in my ask box!

Also, the losers are very ooc. I understand they’re nothing like the way I’m portraying them in my story. Please do not get angry for the way I’m writing them, it’s solely apart of this au and this is not how I actually view them.

MAJOR NOTE: I’m so so sorry it’s taken me weeks to update, I recently just returned to school and things have been hectic. I’ll try my best to write more frequently but updates may be slow. I haven’t been too active on my account recently, I’m sorry, I’ll try to be better. I hope you enjoy this chapter.

Tags: @universal-gay

This song was featured during the school dance scene. The original singer is Frank Sinatra but the band covered it.

------------------------------------------------------------

Blue moon You saw me standing alone Without a dream in my heart Without a love of my own

Eddie--Nor Richie-- didn’t intend for anything to happen that summer leading up to now. It wasn’t like Eddie wanted to visit Derry in the first place, but the constant “Eddie Bear you need to visit!” and “Your aunties miss you!” from his aunts irritated him to the point where he booked the flights to Derry himself. After a long and extremely worded lecture (and a lot of yelling) from Sonia Kaspbrak, both of them set off on a summer that would change everything.

Now don’t get Eddie wrong, he loved his aunts to death (and would much rather live with them than that momster), but he couldn’t take an entire summer of endless cheek pinches and sloppy kisses on the cheek. He knew he had to make the most of his time so he may as well explore the town--Not that there’s was much to explore anyway.

It wasn’t until he found himself walking through a forest that lead him to a quarry. He found himself not staring at the summer day in front of him, not the way water sparkled nor the way the soft summer breeze blew every now and then. No, he found himself staring the boy in front of him. He didn’t understand why, he only knew what the back of the boy looked liked. For all Eddie could know, this boy could be a serial killer. Maybe he was surprised that someone was here, someone was in this dead beat town.

After an awkward greeting--well mainly awkward for Eddie, Richie didn’t seem to ever stop talking once he uttered a noise--Eddie found himself falling easily for a boy he’d only known for what? An hour? Or could it have been six? Richie truly didn’t know when to stop talking, but Eddie loved it.

It was a shock to Eddie that Richie had a loud personality. He’s never one to judge so quickly but Eddie found the boy sitting by himself, listening to Africa by Toto, while smoking. He seemed like a loner.

“Says Eds, tell me something,” Richie spoke slightly lowering the radio.

“Yeah?” Eddie looked up, “Also, stop calling me Eds,” He quickly added.

“Cute! Cute! Cute!” Richie leaned over and pinched his cheeks, “Ever been in love?”

Eddie practically choked on air but it did get him thinking, has he ever been in love? Sure he’s had a couple of boys here and there, some relationships lasting longer than others, but he’s never actually been in love. Maybe some feelings towards his previous boyfriends had been stronger than others but nothing to ever consider being in love. Love was almost foreign to him.

“No,” Eddie broke the silence but continued, “My turn to ask you a question!”

“Hit me with it spageds,” Richie chuckled, taking a puff from his cigarette.

“Spageds? That’s the best you can do?”

“It’s a work in progress.”

Eddie took a deep breath but bit back a smile anyways, “As someone who’s only been visiting for two days, do you ever think about leaving this town? I mean, there’s nothing here.” Eddie looked around the quarry.

“No.” Richie simply replied.

“No?”

“I’ve never thought about it. Not until now anyways,” Eddie patiently waited for Richie to continue, “I’ve never thought about it because I didn’t need to. I’ve never had anything to run towards but now, today in this very moment, I know where I need to run to,”

“Where?”

“You.”

Blue moon You knew just what I was there for You heard me saying a prayer for Someone I really could care for

It was finally the day of the dance. Most high schools would get into the spirit, hanging posters and the constant PA reminders that ticket sales go up every week. However, Derry high had been nominated by a TV station to host a dance competition during the event. Eddie didn’t pay much attention to the eagerness from everyone at school, it was something about the two winners getting a pretty big money prize. But in all honesty, Eddie could care less. He was more worried about being outed to the entire school--and on national television to make matters worse.

Eddie was not--and will never--be ashamed for being gay. Richie neither will ever be ashamed to be bisexual but living in a conservative town where almost everyone will absolutely shit on you for being anything less than straight can be alarming--to say the least.

As much as both boys wanted to hold onto each other and dance together just like every other straight couple, it just wasn’t possible.

Both boys walked into the gym, their entire ensemble of the Pink Ladies and T-Birds following right behind them.

“Says Eds, how about I get us some punch?” Richie awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck.

“As long as you don’t spike it Tozier,”

Richie smirked, “Can’t make any promises my love!” He walked away with a wink, giving Eddie the familiar feeling of butterflies in his tummy.

“Everything all right Bev?” Ben asked. Bev sticked out like a sore thumb, a hair wrap was around her head. Whatever she was trying to hide, wasn’t subtle at all.

“Peachy Benjamin,”

“Bev?” Eddie slowly asked.

“Eddie I’m fine! Everything is alright!” Bev tried to reassure the boys but failed. Bev ended up stomping away to the bathroom with a poor Ben following behind in her in hopes to cheer her up.

Eddie went ahead and found a table large enough to hold the nine leaving the remaining four at the entrance of the dance.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t sunshine and rainbows for the rest of the group.

While Audra and Mike were a happy couple, that still didn’t stop them from being racially discriminated against. It took Mike ages to convince his parents to let him go to public school once homeschooling for middle school ended. He didn’t realize exactly why his parents didn’t want him going to public school once he experienced how cruel kids can be. Being in the T-Birds gave him a place, but he still felt he could be much more than this.

Audra was Mexican (A/N: There’s not enough latinx representation nowadays so I’m making Audra Mexican-American. Also ya girl is Mexican so this is me trying to live through my stories.), both of her parents were immigrants, but Audra herself was born in America but being the daughter of the only two Mexicans living in an almost-all white conservative town was more than difficult.

Being something other than white or straight instantly made you a bad person. No one could look past your skin color or your sexuality, they define you because of that. They don’t define you because of who you are.

While Audra and Mike got nasty and dirty looks from practically the entire gym, they pushed it to aside and let themselves be together.

This wasn’t the case for Stan and Bill.

While most of the school suspected Stan liked boys, they couldn’t think the same for Bill. It was one thing to suspect but to completely out someone is another thing.

Stan was the rabbi’s son, he had to live up to expectations. If his father even heard a word about Stan being gay, it was over.

Bill was close with his parents, but he still hasn’t come out to them--thinking of the idea scares him. His little brother Georgie on the other hand, he knew. When Georgie was nine, he found a fourteen year old Bill crying in the middle of the night. After a long talk and explanation of what being pansexual meant, Georgie was quick to accept him. Now being twelve, Georgie still loved his older brother with everything inside of him.

Despite the rabbi’s son, Stan himself was never religious. Sure, he attended every ceremony at the temple and even read from the torah at his bar mitzfah, but he was required to do that. Stan wasn’t religious, but if there was just one thing he could pray for, he would pray for Bill. He would pray to find happiness with Bill.

From the corner of his eye, he could see Henry and his gang smirking at them. Bill seemed to notice this because he quickly made his way over to the table.

If a prayer truly worked, Stan was praying for a miracle.

And then there suddenly appeared before me The only one my arms will hold I heard somebody whisper please adore me And when I looked to the moon it turned to gold

The TV crew had been setting up for the big competition, people lining up at the restrooms to fix themselves up while others began to make their way towards the dance floor.

“Hey Eds! We should join!” Richie suggested.

“Sure if you want the entire country to find out we like dick,” Eddie remarked then continued, “And stop calling me Eds!”

“Aw yeah! Spaghetti man with the dick jokes!”

“Beep beep Tozier.”

“Hey! Hey!” Richie put his hands up in defense, “You’re technically not wrong but that’s not the point. We don’t need to get up in each others ass to win the competition--I’ve already got your mom for that--the teachers will be on us if we even try. It’s disco isn’t it? We don’t need to do anything couply we just need to do something entertaining.”

“I hate the fact that you actually have a brain in that head of yours.” Eddie sighed while Richie smiled.

“What should-”

“Richie!” A voice squeaked from behind.

Richie whipped around and saw his ex girlfriend heading towards him, her arm locked around the one and only Henry Bowers.

“Greta, hi.” Richie clenched his teeth together and took a deep breath.

“Who’s this?” Eddie whispered from behind Richie.

“Hi hun, I’m Greta,” She stuck her hand out in front of Eddie the continued, “I’m sure Richie has told you how great I am in bed?” She sneered.

“He would have told me if you really were,” Eddie muttered under his breath. Both Greta and Richie heard this, Greta bit back the urge to launch herself at Eddie while Richie tried to subtly hide his laugh with a cough.

“See you in the competition Richie-kins!” She blew a kiss towards his direction and dragged Henry away.

“Richie-kins?”

“Let’s not talk about it.”

“Ladies and gentlemen! Gather around! Our annual high school dance off is about to begin!”

Everyone gathered with their respective pair and waited until the principle stopped talking about the rules.

The principle finally walked off stage and the music began. Some couples were immediately eliminated while others tried to out-dance other couples. Some couples went for a simple attempt at the disco while others went for hand-jives.

The cameras were going around the dance floor, people tried to make their selves seen but were removed from the floor. Eddie could feel himself getting more and more nervous as the camera got closer. Richie didn’t seem to care, he was in his element. As the camera reached the two boys, Eddie instantly made a B-line for anywhere but the camera.

Richie’s face dropped, he tried to follow Eddie but was stopped when someone pushed him back. This ‘someone’ happened to be Greta herself.

“Where you doing handsome?” Greta whispered.

The pair were one of the only few standing left and it didn’t help that the host was encouraging them to dance while pointing the camera at them. Richie had no other choice but to finish the competition with a new partner. He seemed to forget about Eddie in that moment, but Eddie most certainly didn’t forget. He saw the whole ordeal go down.

Eddie ran out of the high school gym and ran all the way straight home.

#eddie kaspbrak #richie tozier #bill denbrough #stan uris #beverly marsh #ben hanscom #mike hanlon #audra phillips #the losers club #losers club #losers club grease au #reddie #reddie au

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