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littlemisspascal · 2 years

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Formula 101 - Prologue: September

Summary:

Vulpecula picks Oddball to replace Juan Badillo for F1 2023

Formula1Daily - 5 minutes ago

Vulpecula reserve driver, known by the racing community as Oddball, is set to replace Juan Badillo as one of the team’s two full-time drivers in the 2023 Formula 1 season…

Pairing: eventual Javi/Fem!Reader "Oddball" (OFC)

Word Count: 7000+

Rating: T

Warnings: Formula One AU ft. multiple Pedro Pascal Cinematic Universe characters, Canon Divergence, Switching POVs, Worldbuilding, Social Media Fic, Headlines inspired by true events but edited for this plot, Usernames were created for PPCU characters and if they do exist irl there's no affiliation, Slowest of Slow Burn, Language

Author Note: I've been a longtime fan of Media Fics ever since my days in the Captain America fandom and I decided to finally give it a shot writing one of my own. This might be the most fun I've ever had working on a fic--and it's also been the most challenging by far 😅 Hope someone out there enjoys this! Can't wait to share more with y'all 💗

Also, in real life, CEOs and team principals are 2 separate jobs but for this fic I decided to combine them :)

Special shout out to @beecastle for keeping me sane! Looking forward to documenting our many adventures together with BBB 😉

A03 Link | Series Masterlist

Summer was in full swing, afternoons hot and Sorgan's forests green all around, when your dad took you to watch your first race. It was a karting championship at the track near the Common House. You remember the electric thrum of excitement in the air, the roaring drone of the engines as the wheels devoured the concrete, how the drivers were mere blurs whizzing by, distinguishable only by the colors of their gear. And despite being only seven, you knew right then and there you wanted to race too. Your dad raised an eyebrow when you told him your desire, but he didn’t say no. He didn’t say much at all, really, just got that wrinkle between his eyebrows he always got when he was thinking particularly hard about something.

You hadn’t known that motor racing was a predominantly male sport. Didn’t know how hard it was for a girl to get her foot in the door of the racing community without some kind of connection (usually in the form of a father, brother, or husband). You just thought it looked like fun. Like something new and exciting and nothing at all like the tedious krill farming the rest of your village loved.

That night, your dad brought it up at dinner. You remember your mom had seemed to freeze for a second, biting her bottom lip, meal momentarily forgotten. And then—

“Well, there’s nothing wrong with trying new things.”

Your dad hummed in agreement. “If she starts practicing now, she could be ready to join the local team next season.”

“She’ll need gear, of course,” your mom stood up to grab a piece of paper and pen to start a list of necessities. “And a kart—maybe one of Myra’s boys has an old one we can borrow for now. They haven’t gone down to the track in months. We’ll go ask first thing in the morning after breakfast.”

A grin spread across your face as you listened to her continue to ramble on, your dad occasionally chiming in once he’d swallowed his mouthfuls. The way your mom talked, it all seemed so easy, so simple.

Years later, you’ll laugh at your own naivety. There’s nothing easy about the world of racing. It’s a roller coaster of ups and downs, the thrill of success and the brutal disappointment of failure, never knowing what’s coming next. It’s high speeds and long hours and harsh words screamed in your face, telling you to quit, telling you that you don’t belong.

And later still, when you’re making history in Formula 1 and opening doors for future generations of girls to follow after, you’ll think it was all worth it.

There isn’t anything you would change.

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Formula1Daily

All You Need to Know About Formula 1: A Beginner’s Guide

Ginger Ale ─ June 20, 2022

What is Formula One?

Formula One (aka Formula 1 or F1) is the highest level of international motorsport where 20 drivers compete in the fastest single-seat, open-wheel, and open-cockpit racing cars in the world. The word ‘Formula’ comes from a set of rules the constructors, mechanics and drivers of the car must strictly follow which were devised by the Fédération Internationale de l'Automobile (FIA).

What’s so special about a F1 car design?

Formula 1 cars are designed to achieve high speeds by generating aerodynamic downforce. They are capable of top speeds of 360km (223mph). Therefore the cars are also equipped with rear wings and diffusers to keep them grounded on the track or else the drivers would have little steering control.

How to become a F1 driver?

Most drivers begin their racing careers in kart racing competitions, then gradually progress through other single-seater series, and then onto Formula 3 and Formula 2. Champions of F2 are commonly recruited onto F1 teams, but it is not a requirement for F1 drivers to have competed in F2.

Drivers must develop high stamina and quick reflexes, as well as intense concentration. They are required to commit a lot of time maintaining their physical and mental health both during the season and off.

When driving around corners, a driver’s head will be pulled sideways by a force of 2 to 6Gs (the equivalent of a force 6 times their weight), making breathing and focus challenging for the duration of the race which could last from one to two hours. Formula 1 drivers are known to spend much of their training sessions strengthening their neck muscles in order to withstand the pressure.

Drivers must also be at least 18 years old, pass an official FIA knowledge test, and have a FIA Super License which allows them to annually compete in the motorsport.

How many people are on a Formula 1 team?

Drivers in Formula 1 compete in teams which are each supervised by team principals, aka CEOs. There are 10 teams overall and they must compete with two cars apiece. There may be upwards of a thousand members on a team when including engineers, mechanics, designers and support staff.

How many races are there?

There are 21 races which take place all over the world during the F1 season. Each race is called a Grand Prix (or GP) and lasts the length of a weekend. Typically, the season lasts from March to November.

How to win?

There are two championships which take place each season in F1: the World Drivers’ Championship and the Constructors' Championship.

The driver who finishes a race the fastest is determined to be the winner. A points system is used at each race and the top ten fastest drivers earn points. The amount of points decreases the lower a driver’s finish. For example, first place receives a hefty 25 points whereas tenth place only earns 1.

At the end of a season, all the points are added up. The driver with the most points is declared World Champion, and the Constructors’ Championship goes to the team with the most points accumulated by both of its drivers.

What’s it cost?

Formula 1 teams must pay an entrance fee per season starting at $500,000. The cost for building a brand new car, staff expenses, and transportation to each of the races are different for each team, but typically every one spends at least $50 million. A budget cap of $145 million was introduced in 2021 to make a fairer playing field for all the teams.

Why should you watch?

If the speed, strategies, and incredible technology of the sport hasn’t already hooked your interest, then stick around for the controversies, the rivalries, and, most hilarious of all, the reaction from social media. Whatever reason prompts you to start watching, it’s a guarantee the endless drama will make sure you always stay invested.

_________________________________________________

Present Day - September 5, 2022

“I see no Ferris wheels,” Javi’s father used to say whenever Javi complained about the unfairness of life during his preteen years. The phrase is an odd mix of humorous and poignant, meant to make whoever hears it stop and take a look around at the world, to notice life isn’t a fairground to entertain us. Back then, the words usually provoked Javi’s temper rather than quenched it, but now that he’s older he finds them coming to mind more and more.

“I swear you’ve been looking at your phone every five minutes, Javi,” Frankie says, taking a seat on the other end of the couch. As far as teammates go, Frankie isn’t so bad. He’s quiet mostly, keeps to himself and doesn’t cause unnecessary drama in the paddock.

“You got a secret girlfriend or something?”

If not for his irritating obsession with Javi’s non-existent love life, Javi might even call him a friend.

Javi doesn’t have to look at the man to know he’s smirking. “Or something,” he answers, only a little prickly sounding.

Frankie sits up straighter and braces his elbows on his knees, leaning closer into Javi’s space. He actually looks a little concerned now. “Shit, man, I was just kidding. There really is something going on?”

Here’s the thing: there’s always something going on when you’re an F1 driver. If he isn’t racing, he’s practicing; if he isn’t practicing, he’s reviewing data; if he isn’t reviewing data, he’s standing in front of a camera answering questions for the press or fans or God knows who else; and if he’s not doing that, then he’s usually passed out in a hotel room in whatever country they are in for the week. For as much as it’s a dream come true for this to be his career, it also has the tendency to turn his life into a roller coaster of chaos.

I see no Ferris wheels.

Javi lifts his cap off his head just enough to drag a hand through his curls, and says, “I’m expecting a call from Gabriela.”

His PR agent is quite possibly the closest thing to an angel on earth. She keeps his schedule organized, his interviews short, and doesn’t take any bullshit from anybody who dares try to stand in her way. Other drivers can only wish to have someone as efficient and quick-witted as her on their team. Javi honestly would rather lose a limb than lose her.

“It’s like pulling teeth with you,” Frankie mutters, shaking his head, though he doesn’t seem truly irritated. Javi can count on one hand the amount of times he’s seen his teammate angry and each of those times were out on the track in the aftermath of a shunt. “Wait, don’t tell me you got dropped again?”

The team polo Javi’s wearing does absolutely nothing to hide the way his shoulders tense up. Irritation flares in his chest—not at one particular person, that would have been easy to deal with, but at a whole list of names and things.

At the top is his younger self who agreed last year to be transferred from Black Gold to Triple Frontier for the current season, believing Maxwell Lord’s promise his seat would still be available for him to return to in 2023. Such an idiot. Next there’s Dave York announcing not only was he returning to F1 after two years of retirement, but also that he’d be joining Black Gold.

The media was shocked, the fans were shocked, Javi was shocked. And also hurt and a little—no, a lot pissed off.

Dave York is a two-time world champion so Javi gets the appeal. Hell, if he had to decide between himself and York he’d choose the other man without hesitation. Still, the betrayal from his former team had stung worse than a venomous snake bite, not to mention they didn’t have the consideration to even call ahead and warn Javi they were breaking their contract with him. If they had, Triple Frontier could have arranged to keep him as their second driver next season along with Frankie instead of devoting their time to finding a new rookie to fill the spot.

For the first two weeks of the summer break, Javi’s future looked helplessly bleak. He’d been an F1 driver for four years, barely given the chance to make a household name for himself and it was scary to think it could all be over. His career, his childhood dream— finished. Just like that.

I see no Ferris wheels.

But August proved to be another strange and unpredictable month within a strange and unpredictable year.

Pietro Alvarez announced his impending retirement. Vulpecula wanted an experienced driver to fill the seat. And all of the sudden, after a long phone call and no less than a dozen signatures, Javi’s future didn’t look so miserable anymore. He would be trading his dark green Triple Frontier kit for Vulpecula’s cobalt blue next year.

“No, Vulpecula hasn't dropped me,” Javi says stiffly. Frankie at least has the decency to look abashed for jumping to the wrong conclusion. “They’re supposed to be announcing my teammate today.”

“Poor guy,” Frankie says, wincing in mock sympathy. “He has no idea what an intolerable asshole you really are.”

Javi rolls his eyes. “I’ll miss you, too, Morales. No one else will ever compare.”

The other man beams at that, but his response is interrupted by the chime of a new text message. Javi’s not sure what surprises him more, the fact Gabriela—who notoriously condemns texting, claiming 99% of misunderstandings occur as a result of a text’s tone being misinterpreted—is the sender, or the actual text itself.

From: Gabriela (11:15)

Don’t say or do anything until I’m there

To: Gabriela (11:16)

What’s going on???

From: Gabriela (11:17)

Vulpecula officially announced your teammate

From: Gabriela (11:17)

Next season’s going to be interesting

“What the hell does that mean?” Frankie asks, unashamedly reading the texts. He sounds as confused as Javi feels.

Ignoring him, Javi exits out of the conversation and looks to the internet to make sense of Gabriela’s crypticness. He takes one look at the breaking news headlines and—oh.

After the whirlwind of last month, he hadn’t thought anything else could stun him. And yet here he is, five days into September, gaping at his phone like an idiot.

Frankie nudges him. “So, who is he?”

“It’s—” Javi swallows against the dryness of his throat. “It’s not a he.”

_________________________________________________

HoloNet

September 2022 Latest News

Vulpecula picks Oddball to replace Juan Badillo for F1 2023

Formula1Daily - 5 minutes ago

Vulpecula reserve driver, known by the racing community as Oddball, is set to replace Juan Badillo as one of the team’s two full-time drivers in the 2023 Formula 1 season…

Third female driver in F1 history has signed a multi-year contract with Vulpecula

BBB - 1 hour ago

Oddball makes it to F1, taking over for Badillo, what a turn of events! She’ll compete with Gutierrez…

Vulpecula F1: Oddball will partner with Javi Gutierrez next season

Weekly Motorsports News - 2 hours ago

“We’re ecstatic to have Oddball join us as a F1 Vulpecula driver,” said Vulpecula CEO Vivian Etten…

_________________________________________________

“I hate you so much right now,” Ben says, appearing out of nowhere. You look up at him, tucking your phone away back in your jacket pocket. He glares back at you, expression indignant. “How the hell did you get a seat before me? And with Vulpecula? Seriously?”

“There’s nothing wrong with being a late bloomer, Benny,” you retort.

“Takes one to know one,” he shoots back, pointedly looking at your chest.

“Wow, a joke about my boobs.” You slowly clap your hands in mock applause. “How original.”

“Oh, don’t mind him, Odds,” Eggsy says just as his arm drapes loosely over your shoulders. He pulls you in for a side hug. “He’s just mad he’s not the center of attention around here anymore.”

Ben scowls. “I hate you too.”

You’ve known the two boys for several years now, moving up the different series from karts to cars together. There’s a common misconception that anyone who is a rival is therefore an enemy, but Ben and Eggsy have become as close as brothers to you. Ricky, too, even though you scarcely see him nowadays since he’s too busy being one of the best rookies in F1. He’s already texted you congratulations about your promotion, followed shortly by: When I podium, I promise I’ll wave down at you amongst the peasants :)

It was nice to see Ricky’s trash talk game hadn’t improved in the slightest. Poor kid uses proper grammar and emoticons like he’s a seventy-year-old man. It’s ridiculous. Even your own father knows how to send gifs every once in a while and he’s one of the most technologically impaired people you’ve ever known.

“Oh, quit it already,” you say with an eye roll. “Everyone knows Santiago’s gonna pick you for Triple Frontier next season. He’s just being a drama queen and taking his sweet time getting the contract ready.”

Ben grumbles under his breath and crosses his arms. He doesn’t deny it though.

“And then there was only one,” Eggsy says with a chuckle, but the way he fiddles with his glasses gives away his nervousness.

You and Ben exchange subtle looks. It’s been a tough season in Formula 2 for all three of you, but while you and Ben have been vying against each other for first place, Eggsy’s been struggling a bit further behind. With only two races left before the season ends, he’ll have to have high finishes for a chance at fourth or third place in the Drivers’ Championship. And the higher he finishes, the better his odds of impressing the F1 team principals.

“It’s only September,” you say, trying to lighten the mood. “Plenty of time left for recruitment.”

“You’ll make it.” Ben’s voice is uncharacteristically serious, full of such raw certainty it has you and Eggsy blinking at him with surprise. “We’ve been through too much together to be torn apart now.”

“That,” you start, just as serious, pointing a finger in the air, “might be the nicest thing I’ve ever heard you say, Benjamin Miller.”

Ben offers you the sight of his middle finger as a response.

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Wonder World Sports

Oddball: The young woman set to make Formula One history

By Steve Trevor, WWS

Friday September 9 2022

(Picture : Oddball, brow furrowed with concentration and lips pursed, studies her recent track data alongside Vulpecula engineers. Caption: Oddball is on course to become the third female F1 driver in history.)

(WWS) – It’s a cloudy September morning when I meet Oddball at a coffee shop in downtown Los Angeles. She’s dressed casually—a National Treasure graphic tee, blue jeans, and well-worn sneakers—looking like a local university student rather than someone who was recently announced to become the third Formula One female driver in the sport’s history.

“It was one of the best days of my life,” says the 20-year-old, reflecting back on the day she learned she’d be on the grid next season competing against nineteen other elite racing drivers.

What began as an ordinary race weekend for Oddball at August’s Swedish Grand Prix quickly changed with a single phone call from Vulpecula CEO Vivian Etten asking to meet with her.

“Vivian’s wonderful and hilarious. Everybody loves her,” Oddball says of the chief executive, who first recruited her as a junior driver for Vulpecula back in 2020. “When you go to a race or to headquarters, it’s always a positive environment—and that’s all because of Vivian. She looks after all of us.”

(Picture: Oddball, dressed in full cobalt blue Vulpecula driver kit, gives CEO Vivian Etten a thumbs up in the Vulpecula garage. Caption: Oddball began her racing career at the age of seven.)

READ: Marcus Moreno wins fourth world title

READ: Javi Gutierrez to replace Pietro Alvarez at Vulpecula

Vivian Etten, who has repeatedly described Oddball as “a fabulous driver” and “immensely talented,” made the decision to promote the young reserve driver to help the team improve and become a force to be reckoned with once again after several years of struggling in midfield.

Once Etten told Oddball she would replace Juan Badillo, a driver ten years her senior, for the upcoming season she was required to keep it a secret from everybody until an official announcement was made. Even her own family. She admits, “It was almost impossible keeping it from my mom. I tell her everything that happens to me, but somehow I managed to keep it under wraps.”

Oddball was born and raised in Sorgan, developing an interest in motorsport racing after watching the Outer Rim Kart Championships at the local kart track. “My family’s encouraged me from the start,” she says, smiling. “I travel so much, always on the go since I was seven, and I’m lucky to have their constant support.”

(Picture: Oddball photographed during a practice lap at the Spanish Grand Prix.)

She speaks fondly of her parents. They agreed to allow the 15-year-old Oddball to quit school and focus entirely on her racing career. “I thought it was great at the time,” she says now, looking amused. “No more math or vocabulary tests.” Homesickness, though, was a feeling she struggled with immensely once she began living on her own at eighteen. “It was so much harder than I thought it would be to move away from home. I called my mom every night the first six months and we’d both start crying. But over time, Vulpecula has become my second family of sorts. And I have more friends at the track than I ever did back in class.”

Oddball enjoys a strawberry lemonade while we talk, preferring the tart, citrusy flavor over the long list of coffees and teas on the menu. Her answers are polite and thoughtful, not a trace of smugness to be found. Her social media accounts are full of movie quotes, comedic gifs, and sarcastic one-liners. The fact that her name will go down in F1 history behind Anita Moreno and Ahsoka Tano hasn’t inflated her ego.

She has lived in an apartment in Altair for two years, about thirty minutes from Vulpecula headquarters. “No, I love it too much to move,” she says when I ask if she has plans to reside in the Mos Espa region where many past and present F1 drivers call home. “The food, the people, the closeness to Vulpecula—Altair is the best place for me right now.”

These past few months she gracefully balances the increasingly thin line between the worlds of F1 and F2—where she is currently second in overall standings—and also manages to squeeze in a plethora of interviews into her hectic schedule. September is a particularly busy month with two more races for Oddball to prepare for following this last weekend’s Romanian GP. The California GP is next weekend and then the Paradise Island GP will follow on the 30th. In general, Oddball says she enjoys the whole experience, but admits it can also be “pretty crazy at times.”

“It’s all part of the job, though. I’ve learned to become adaptable over the years.”

Of course, an interview wouldn’t be complete without mentioning four-time world champion Marcus Moreno, son of Anita Moreno, the first female F1 driver in history. “I knew he was going to come up at some point. He always does,” Oddball says, but her tone stays light, good-natured.

Similar to Oddball, Moreno was once a reserve driver for Vulpecula before making his F1 debut in 2013. However, he received additional insight and training from his legendary mother to propel his career forward, while Oddball has had to learn the tricks of the sport one step at a time.

She mentions she has talked to Moreno a few times, but she has learned the most from Vulpecula’s Pietro Alvarez, the three-time world champion who has announced his retirement at the end of the season.

They first worked closely together at the Ando Overland in January during F1’s offseason, taking turns driving during the 24-hour event.

(Picture Gallery 1 of 40: Marcus Moreno on first place podium sprays second-placed Din Djarin with champagne. Caption: Moreno and Djarin celebrate at the Florida Grand Prix before the midseason break.)

READ: Pietro Alvarez accomplishes Ando Overland dream

“It was a great experience teaming up with Pietro,” Oddball says about the endurance race, where the team came in twelfth out of fifty. “He gives everything 110% effort, even if it’s just reviewing data or rewatching footage. His advice on how to prepare myself for F1, both physically and mentally, has been extremely helpful.”

According to Alvarez, he sees “a bright future” ahead for Oddball. “She’s smart and has a natural instinct for this sport.”

Despite there being seven races left before Alvarez’s retirement, Oddball has already begun preparing to make an impact on the grid next season. What goals does she have for her debut? “Honestly? Just have fun,” she confides. “Everyone always says they want to start their career by beating their teammate or finish in the top three, but I…I just want it to be a good time, you know?”

And with that, the future F1 history-making rookie takes the last sip of her strawberry lemonade and steps outside onto the busy streets of Los Angeles.

_________________________________________________

Trending

#OddballMakesHistory

Oddball

Javi Gutierrez

Vulpecula

_________________________________________________

Busy Bee Blog (BBB) - Vlog Post #57

Thursday September 15 2022

Summary: The F1 world is abuzz right now with the news of Oddball joining Vulpecula. I asked some of the other drivers at the California Grand Prix what their thoughts were about the announcement and their answers may surprise you.

Bee Castle holds her signature black-and-yellow striped microphone, standing in the middle of the paddock walkway with a bright smile directed at the camera. “Hello everybody! Tis I, your Queen Bee, coming to you live from the paddock at the California GP.” She gestures towards the blue sky overhead. “It’s a beautiful Thursday morning, the teams are looking forward to a great race weekend while I’m looking forward to getting some drivers’ opinions on the new addition to next season’s grid, Oddball.”

The camera is zoomed in on Marcus Moreno’s grinning face. Bee coughs once, twice, and there’s a moment of fumbling before both Bee and Marcus are in view side by side. In the background, Sunspear’s motorhome is full of fancily dressed people and team members in gold shirts enjoying brunch, including Marcus’ teenage daughter Missy.

“Look who I found,” Bee says, gesturing with her thumb. “How are you doing today, Marcus?”

“Fantastic,” he replies, bobbing his head. “I love coming back here every season. Definitely one of my favorites.”

“I won’t keep you long so you can get back to enjoying everything, but BBB readers and I are dying to hear your opinion on Oddball joining next season.”

“I think it’s great news. F1 has been without a female driver for too long since my mom and Tano retired.” His smile widens at the mention of his mother. “It’s going to be great for girls to have another role model to look up to. My daughter even told me she would be rooting for Oddball instead of me!”

Pero Tovar glares at the camera.

“Good morning, Tovar.” Bee nervously shifts in place when the Spaniard remains silent. “Um, what’s your opinion on Vulpecula’s new driver?”

She tentatively holds out her microphone towards him, biting her lip.

“If she can race,” Pero says, voice a low grumble, still glaring at the camera, “she deserves a place.”

And then he’s stalking away down the paddock walkway, people all but leaping to get out of his way. His PR agent offers a quick apologetic smile before hurrying to catch up.

There’s a moment of silence. Bee looks at her camerawoman, arching an incredulous eyebrow.

“I’ll never understand why he’s your favorite driver, Rae.”

“I heard you were going around, asking opinions,” Nico Loro leans against a wall inside the Sunspear hospitality suite and places a hand over his heart, lips pulling down into a pout, “I gotta admit I’m a little hurt you didn’t come to me, Bee.”

“Well,” Bee extends her microphone with visible reluctance, “what do you think about—”

“I’ll tell you my opinion,” Nico interrupts, leaning in closer so his mouth practically touches the foam cover. “It’s most likely an advertising ploy, you know what I mean? A novelty to draw in more viewers. A gimmick. Not that I mind though. It means I have one less competitor to worry about next season.”

The camera pans to Bee’s face, catching her uncomfortable expression before she’s able to hide it with a strained smile. “Thank you, Nico,” she says through gritted teeth. “It’s always nice hearing your view on things.”

Bee, unaware the camera is recording, holds the microphone under her arm and attempts to fix her hair as the breeze picks up, ruffling it.

“Be honest, Rae,” she frowns, “does it look as much like a bird’s nest as it feels?”

“I think you look beautiful as always, Bee.”

Bee jumps with fright as Frankie Morales steps into view. She recovers quickly, offering him a beaming grin, and there’s the quiet noise of someone behind the camera snorting.

“Frankie,” she says, sounding pleasantly surprised by his appearance. “I didn’t think you’d get here until tomorrow.”

“And miss meeting with my favorite reporter? Not a chance,” he replies with a teasing wink.

Bee gasps. “Favorite?” She laughs then, delighted, and aims a fierce look at the camera. “Steve Trevor, eat your heart out.”

Frankie watches her, hands stuffed in his jeans’ pockets. It’s hard to tell if the rosy tint to his cheeks is from the sun or perhaps something else.

Turning back to the Triple Frontier driver, Bee resumes her professional blogger persona, asking, “How are you feeling about this weekend’s race, Frankie?”

“Good. Excited. Javi and I have both been preparing on the simulator, so fingers crossed one of us will end up on the podium.” He glances at the camera. “Preferably me, obviously.”

“Speaking of Javi, what do you think of his future teammate?”

“I’ve been keeping up with the F2 results and Oddball’s doing a great job holding her own against her competitors,” he replies, scratching at his scruffy jawline. “I think she’ll definitely make next season an interesting one.”

A voice off-camera calls out to Frankie, catching his attention. He waves, then holds up a finger asking them to wait for him.

“Nice seeing you again, Bee,” he says.

“You too, Frankie. Best of luck at qualifying tomorrow!”

The camera zooms in closer on their smiling faces.

Bee power walks through the paddock, in-between the motorhomes, talking over her shoulder to the camera rushing to keep up with the brisk pace. “Let’s try to get one more opinion. I think I see Dieter Bravo up ahead.” She pitches her voice higher, waving a hand in the air, “Dieter! Over here, Dieter!”

The Van Chance driver spins on his heel, lifting up his sunglasses to get a better look as Bee slows to a stop. She takes a second to catch her breath, missing the way he squints at her in silent confusion.

“Hi,” Bee greets.

“...Hi.”

“I’m doing a vlog for BBB asking drivers what they think about Oddball officially joining F1 next season.”

There’s an expectant pause which follows. Dieter merely stares at her blankly.

Bee jiggles the microphone, prompting, “What do you think about Oddball officially joining F1 next season, Dieter?”

“I had no idea she’s joining,” he answers distractedly, tonguing at the inside of his cheek. “Who’s she replacing?”

“Juan Badillo.”

“Right. That’s a shame.” Dieter looks appropriately dismayed at the news.

Bee subtly exchanges a look with Rae behind the camera.

“Is…is that all you have to say on the matter?” she asks.

He scrubs a hand through his thick curls, grimacing. “Listen, I’m sorry, I’m trying to care, but it’s way too early for this conversation.”

Bee stares with disbelief at his departing backside. “But it’s already eleven thirty…”

Bee leans against the balcony railing of a suite overlooking the pitlane.

“Thanks for tuning in to watch your Queen storm the paddock!” She gestures to the side where a like button appears on screen resembling a giant smiling bumblebee. “Let me know what you liked and what you didn’t about this video, I love hearing all your feedback. Rae, any thoughts about today’s vlog?”

“When’s lunch?”

Bee stares at the camera flatly.

_________________________________________________

Just because Javi’s never officially met Oddball doesn’t mean he’s not aware of who she is. She’s one of only a handful of female drivers who’s ever competed in F2, let alone F1, of course he’s damn well aware of her.

He’s seen her around at races, usually hanging around Vulpecula’s motorhome, decked out in their cobalt blue apparel, sometimes out on the track when the team lets her take Badillo’s place during practice laps.

She’s fast, whipping down the straights and around the corners like it’s second nature. She still needs some more time and experience behind the wheel to adapt to the changes between a F1 and F2 car, but she’s definitely got potential. He can see why Vulpecula’s taking a chance on her.

Javi has watched some of Oddball’s interviews with reporters after races. Some of her own personal Youtube content, too. Half to get a sense of his future teammate’s personality, half because once Gabriela told him Oddball creates her own videos he couldn’t resist his own curiosity.

The casual way in which she seems to handle attention is as admirable as it is surprising. When she wins, there’s no arrogance. No look at me, look at me attitude. When she loses, there’s understandable disappointment, but there’s no badmouthing her competitors. Just a fire in her eyes, determination to do better next time.

She knows she’s making history (not that she ever has a chance to forget given the amount of times the press brought it up), but she doesn’t expect special treatment for it. In comparison to how many drivers he’s met over the years, sons of politicians and millionaires, who expect the world to bend over backwards to accommodate them, Oddball’s equanimity is…refreshing.

Before the announcement Oddball was joining Vulpecula’s F1 team, she didn’t have much of an impact on Javi’s life. And even now, he hasn’t been formally introduced to her yet, only has a vague impression of what she’s like when not in front of a camera, yet somehow she’s taken up a corner of his mind. Makes him wonder about their future together at Vulpecula. If she’ll be able to hold onto that fiery determination.

Javi hopes she knows what she’s getting into.

_________________________________________________

Speed Beasts Magazine

United States' Top Motorsport Weekly

September 26 2022 Issue

Outer Rim's Next F1 Star

Can Oddball find success with Vulpecula?

How she’s making history in F1

What can she do to end Vulpecula’s bad luck with young drivers

Why she’s passionate about racing

(Cover Photo by Fennec Shand: Oddball, wearing a Vulpecula polo, offers the readers a wide smile.)

In This Issue:

4. Ricky Hauk nabs Aurelac seat 6. Pietro Alvarez retirement plans 7. Paradise Island Grand Prix first look 10. A chat with BBB’s Bee Castle 12. A chat with Speed Beasts’ chief editor Darren Eigan 13. Fan opinions on who’s hot and who’s not 14. Can Oddball find success with Vulpecula? 22. The next rising female F3 stars 24. Inside the Bravo twins’ garages 32. Be kind rewind: 2020 season highlights 36. Stats of Sunspear SS4/1 38. Remembering Paul De Santo 48. De Santo’s top 10 fastest F1 drives 52. Early predictions for the 2023 season

_________________________________________________

The second floor of the Vulpecula motorhome is a bustling hive of activity all hours of a race weekend. Drivers, mechanics, and management coming and going up and down the stairs, disappearing into the different rooms where they’re needed. The seating in the main center space has been arranged so no matter where you sit there will always be a good view of the three giant screens constantly displaying the current happenings including drivers’ standings, highlights, and weather patterns.

Having finished with your required duties for the day, you grab Diana, a spare video camera from the PR team, and sit down in one of the corner stools, out of the way of everyone else. It’s been a while since you’ve updated your personal Youtube channel, too busy dealing with the media circus exploding in the wake of your F1 drafting announcement.

“You feeling up for some fan questions today?” Diana asks, already pulling out her phone and pressing the Twitter app. This isn’t the first time your performance coach has doubled as your videographer, so she knows the drill by now.

“Yeah, sounds good,” you nod, though you’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel a flutter of nervousness in your stomach. You love your fans and interacting with them on social media, but there are also a couple rotten apples in the bunch who find joy in harassing you with rude remarks and invasive questions about your personal life.

Fortunately, Diana immediately skips over those with a derisive wrinkling of her nose, seeking out the thoughtful and funny queries instead. Although, sometimes those are hard to wrap your head around as well. Why on earth does it matter if you prefer Winnie the Pooh or Paddington Bear more? It seems like a total waste of a tweet.

The answer’s an obvious one though: Paddington Bear all the way.

Diana presses a button on the video camera, turning it on with a quiet beep and a flash of green light indicating a full battery. You give yourself a once-over, hoping nobody notices the stain on your jacket sleeve from lunch earlier, and then meet Diana’s patient gaze with another nod of your head.

She mouths, three, two, one—

“Hi everyone,” you wave at the camera, “Diana and I are here in beautiful and sunny Themyscira at the Paradise Island Grand Prix. Fun fact for those of you who don’t know, Diana grew up here. Which explains why she’s such a hardass coach—”

Diana chimes in with a cheerful, “You mispronounced badass.”

“I said what I said.” Your mouth curls up into an amused smile. “So if you want to see some of her favorite spots, I’ll be posting a couple of pics on my Instagram later today. But right now I’m going to answer some of your questions, whatever ones you’ve got, and uh,” you shrug, smile turning sheepish as your brain fails you. “Yeah, here we go.”

Hopefully there will be enough watchable material to post after you edit the hell out of the footage. You’re sure your hands are fidgeting too much, your voice too high, tongue too clumsy. Probably look like a total idiot who doesn’t know what she’s doing, but you’re trying, alright? That’s got to count for something.

“An easy one to start with,” Diana says with a smile, reading the question off her phone. “What is your favorite drink?”

“Lemonade,” you say immediately. “All kinds, though especially strawberry or lavender. Unfortunately, I can’t drink them during races. Gotta just stick with water, water, and more water.”

“Where’s somewhere you want to visit but haven’t yet?”

Your face scrunches up, imagining a world map in your head and looking for noticeable blank spots. Travel is a major element in the sport of motor racing. As both an F2 racer and Vulpecula’s reserve driver, you’ve been to every continent except Antarctica. And that doesn’t include all the years competing in karting, F4, or F3. You consider yourself incredibly lucky having seen so much when most people your age are in college right now, stuck in one spot.

“I guess…” You chew on your bottom lip. “Maybe the Water Gardens in Dorne? I know it’s impossible to go there, that only members of House Martell are allowed, but from what I’ve read it’s supposedly the most beautiful place in the whole world.”

Diana clears her throat, prompting an eye roll.

“Next to Themyscira, of course. I mean, what can beat a place literally called Paradise Island?”

“Exactly,” your coach hums affirmatively. She looks down at her phone, reading the next question. “This one is a popular one. Why are you called Oddball?”

Diana isn’t wrong; it is a popular question. So popular, in fact, it’s followed you around ever since you were seven-years-old. You wish your nickname had a cool origin story, like the superheroes from your favorite comics growing up, but life is unfortunately not a wish-granting factory.

“When I first started karting, I was the only girl competing at the time. I didn’t have sponsors like a lot of the boys, so my suit didn’t have as many advertising patches and stuff. There’s an old Disney movie, 102 Dalmatians, and in it there’s a puppy who doesn’t have any spots. I think you can guess where I’m going with this,” you look directly at the camera, shrugging a bit. “An article came out calling me Oddball and the name’s stuck with me ever since.”

“And how do you feel about it now?” Diana asks.

“Good,” you say, and you mean it too. “Both Ahsoka and Anita have nicknames—Snips and Daybreak. I think it’s actually pretty cool to have one too. Like we’re in a special club or something. Plus, if you have ever watched 102 Dalmatians, you’ll know Oddball is the G.O.A.T.”

Diana looks at her phone and whatever she sees has her shoulders shaking with restrained laughter. Oh God. “Alright, I like this next one. Would you rather have fingers as long as arms or arms as long as fingers?”

You bark out an embarrassingly loud laugh at that. “What the hell, D?”

“Don’t ask me! I didn’t write it,” she counters through her own snickering.

“Um,” you rub your hands over your face, trying to imagine the two scenarios without dissolving into another round of giggling. You only partly succeed, another snort escaping before you can stifle it. “I dunno. They’re both awful. Let’s just go with…Fingers as long as arms.”

The Q & A session continues for another few minutes. Most questions are about racing—how to get started, what’s your favorite car, best driving advice you’ve ever been given, etc.—and then there’s a couple more weird ones you suspect Diana only purposefully includes so she can laugh at your reactions, the most notable one being would you ever eat yellow snow? Hell to the no.

“This is the final question,” Diana announces, tone mimicking the overdramatic seriousness of a television game host. You school your features into an expression of intent listening, hands folded on top of the table. “Are you excited to have Javi Gutierrez as a teammate next season?”

You force yourself not to squirm. Ask anyone else the question and they’d probably give a positive or negative answer right away. Even after being faced with dozens of similarly phrased questions from the press, your brain fumbles for words each and every time. How do you say you're excited to meet him while also simultaneously feeling like you’re about to fall off the edge of a cliff—but in a good way? He’s one of your favorite drivers, been keeping up with his career since he was in F3, and when the realization sunk in he was going to be your future teammate you almost passed out. You can only hope you don’t do anything to embarrass yourself when you finally meet him.

However, there’s no guarantee you and Javi will become friends, let alone get along in a civil manner. Most of the grid doesn’t spend much time with each other off-track or consider each other anything more than teammates and fellow competitors. Javi could be a total asshole, for all you know, his whole persona on camera just a ruse to gain support from sponsors and fans. Only time will tell, you suppose.

“I am, yes,” you finally admit, hoping your smile conceals your inner turmoil. “He’s a great driver with a lot of talent and experience. I’m sure I’ll learn a lot from him next season.”

#javi gutierrez #javi g x reader #javi g x you #javi gutierrez x reader #javi gutierrez fanfiction #pedrostories #my fic #my writing

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eddiesasspbrak · 3 years

Text

Familiar

Eddie is dragged to a comedy show by his coworkers and something about the comedian is so...familiar.

Part of my “I’d rearrange the alphabet to put U and I together” series

Read on AO3

A B C D E

7k+ words

Minors DNI

Something about this man felt familiar.

When Eddie’s coworkers invited him out for a drink, he was inclined to say no. He wasn’t one for socializing outside of the workplace and drinking in front of them added the risk of getting drunk and saying or doing something stupid. The last thing he needed was a joke about his behavior going around the office for years because of the one night out he chose to let loose.

Then there was the Myra of it all. If she knew he was going out for a drink, she would harass him through text and phone calls until he came home. He knew she had an app that allowed her to track him via GPS and he couldn’t figure out how to turn it off. She could just as easily find out where he was and show up, ready to cry or scream to manipulate him into doing what she wanted. Of course, Eddie would let her because she was his wife and he’d chosen this life with her.

Still, there was a part of Eddie that wanted to be carefree for one night. As long as he limited himself to two drinks and stayed hydrated, he would be ok. He texted Myra and told her that the pub they were going to was run by a potential new client for his insurance firm and she believed him easily. He rarely lied to her, so it was easy to get away with it when he did. There were some bigger secrets he kept from her. Like how he wasn’t sure he loved her as more than a friend and how he realized he only liked men and often dreamed about reliving some college one-night stands with other men he’d met along the way. It wasn’t important for her to know.

A simple lie about where he was going and why was innocent enough. He wasn’t interested in any of his coworkers romantically or sexually, so it’s not like he’d have to lie any further to cover up an affair. He didn’t have it in him to cheat anyway. He may not have loved his wife romantically, but he’d be damned if he took the cowards way out. If he found someone else he wanted to be with, he’d end it with her first like a decent human being.

His coworkers were ecstatic when he agreed to go with them. He never wanted to go out with them. The club they were going to had special events that required tickets and one of them had acquired nine at a discounted cost thanks to a connection with the club owner. Eddie didn’t have much interest in the comedy act that would be going on around them and planned to stay focused on his level of intoxication instead. A night of freedom was just that and he was going to enjoy himself no matter what he had to do to accomplish that.

There was a line going down the street of people waiting for admission. Due to Harold’s connection, they were able to bypass the line, much to Eddie’s relief. Standing in a line in the heat for hours was not worth getting a few drinks. Inside was already bustling with people and Eddie’s attention went immediately to locating their waitress and flagging her down.

The jokes at his expense already began as his coworkers made comments about him letting loose. They’d never expected him to be a drinker. They thought for sure he’d sip on water and iced tea (not the long island kind) all night. When he ordered a shot and a beer (the shot was mostly ordered to shut them up), they quickly quieted down. Though he was actually a light weight from years of barely drinking at all because of Myra. He could tell they were trying to assess if they really knew the true Eddie Kaspbrak and he could easily answer that for them. No. Nobody knew the real Eddie. Not even Myra.

The room went dark, a spotlight trained on the stage and the crowd erupted in applause as the comedian for the night took the stage. Curious, Eddie followed suit and looked up the man. They had a relatively close table, able to see the guy perfectly from where they sat. Eddie immediately recognized him. He’d seen his shows on Comedy Central a few times. He used to think he was funny but in the last few years, his routine completely changed, and Eddie didn’t think he was good anymore. It was like someone else entirely was writing his material. Myra always hated him.

As he began his routine, a strange feeling struck Eddie. There was something oddly familiar about this man. He told himself it was just because he was familiar with his work, but it was more than that. He had this feeling, like a distant memory, that he had spoken to him before. He’d called out his name, touched his hands. Maybe it was a dream. After all, he wasn’t unattractive, and it wouldn’t be the first time Eddie had had a dream about a celebrity he was attracted to.

He barely listened to the jokes as he chased the fleeting memory, trying to figure out just what had happened in his dream. Hopefully, nothing too graphic as he was in public with the people he worked with and he didn’t need to get himself worked up. Especially given the actual man himself was on stage.

“Richie!” He heard his own, younger voice calling out in his head. If they were children in his dream, that opened another line of questions that he couldn’t quite answer.

Harold was laughing beside him and clapped a hand down on Eddie’s shoulder. “He’s funny, right?” He asked.

Eddie focused on what the guy was saying for a second, wondering if he’d reverted back to his actual funny jokes. He only heard the tail end of a joke, specifically, “try telling that to my girlfriend.” Eddie scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“That dude does not have a girlfriend. He’s full of shit.” He mumbled mostly to himself.

“Are you sure? Maybe he’s talking about an ex-girlfriend.”

Eddie wasn’t sure how he knew, but he believed with every ounce of himself that Richie Tozier did not and never did have a girlfriend. He didn’t know why. Richie had never once talked about being gay. No one really speculated that he was either. Other than the fans who shipped him with other comedians he was friends with and that was all fantasy. Part of him wondered if it was just his wishful thinking. Not that he would cheat on his wife and hook up with a random comedian if he were gay. And interested in Eddie.

The show went on and Eddie kept himself delightfully tipsy but not drunk. Enough to get through the painfully unfunny jokes but keep himself from making a fool of himself. His coworkers were laughing along with the rest of the crowd while Eddie quietly heckled. He didn’t want to draw attention to himself, but he just couldn’t keep his mouth shut. Usually something that only happened when he was comfortable with someone. His coworkers seemed to be enjoying this side of him but the people sitting at the table next to them, did not.

“Dude, shut the fuck up. I can’t hear the jokes.” The man sitting closest to him snapped.

“You’re welcome.” Eddie quipped and when he looked back toward the stage, Richie was looking right at their table.

Their eyes met and he stuttered his words, an unreadable expression passing over his face before he caught himself and picked back up where he’d messed up making a self-deprecating joke about forgetting his lines. Eddie sat frozen, a chill going through him. He’d felt something and he was sure Richie felt it too. For the brief second their eyes were locked it felt like he was looking up at an old friend. Part of him wanted to get up and leave with some lame excuse to his coworkers that his wife needed him home. He didn’t need this uncertainty of being drawn to someone he’d never met like he was a past lover. It was unfamiliar and made it hard to breathe.

A memory of a conversation with Myra clicked into his mind. She’d been talking about soulmates, saying that they always find one another from one life to the next and the connection is instantaneous. She was talking about the two of them and Eddie had just nodded along, not contributing because he knew she was wrong. If there was such a thing as soulmates, she was not his. The idea that Richie fucking Tozier could be his soulmate was ludicrous and he felt like a jackass for having that thought at all even if it was just a passing thought.

“I have to pee.” Eddie mumbled as he staggered to his feet and made his way through the tables toward the bathroom. As he pushed through the door, forgetting to use his elbow instead of his hand, he heard Richie on stage saying, “I’m Trashmouth Tozier, goodnight!” and he felt dizzy. Echoes of his own voice calling out “Trashmouth” filled his ears as he made his way to the sink, pressing his hands against the cold porcelain to support himself.

Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe he was drunker than he realized and that’s why his head was spinning. Either way, he felt like he was strapped to a chair, his eyes pried open being forced to watch images flash by on a screen. Images that were being crammed into his brain through his ear making his head throb, but he couldn’t actually see them. That distant dream you can vaguely remember when waking but it slowly fades away into oblivion again.

“You ok?” Eddie startled at the voice. He hadn’t even heard the door open.

“I’m fine.” He said, turning on the tap and splashing water in his face.

“Too much to drink?” Eddie didn’t respond this time. He just wanted to get out of there, go home and sleep. The intruder on his mini breakdown wasn’t taking his silence as a hint though. “Don’t I know you from somewhere?”

Eddie finally lifted his head, taking a look at the guy though the mirror. What he saw, had him whirling around, a bad choice with the way he was feeling. He stumbled back against the sink, catching himself and hitting his wrist against the edge of the sink. Richie was leaning against the side of the stall door, his hands in his pockets.

It took a second for Eddie’s brain to reconnect to the present situation. When it did, the first thing to tumble from his lips was, “that’s a really shitty pickup line.”

Richie cracked a smile. “All pickup lines are shitty. I’m being serious though. Do you come to my shows often?”

“No. First time.”

“Did you enjoy the show?”

“Not even a little bit.” Eddie hadn’t meant to say that. He’d intended to lie and say it was great, but something about this guy made him want to be honest. He wasn’t afraid to tell him the truth. That feeling of familiarity sat tugging at his mind.

“Yea, I kind of noticed. I didn’t see you laugh once.”

“That room was packed. No way you were paying attention to me. You’re attempts to hit on me are really lame.”

“I was, though. I was trying to place where I know you. And I always watch the crowd to see if everyone is laughing. It’s kind of a blow to my confidence when there’s someone out there who doesn’t find my jokes funny.”

“They aren’t funny. They’re full of shit. Your old stuff was better.”

Richie appeared shocked. “So, you’re familiar with my work then. I thought you said this was your first show.”

“First live show I guess. I used to watch your stuff online. Before you stopped being funny.”

“Let me get this straight…you’re a fan but you don’t want me to hit on you in a public bathroom?”

“I’m not a fan, there’s no way you could get anything straight and I’m technically married. So, no.”

“Technically married? Like, separated? Getting a divorce?”

“No…I’m…I guess I’m actually married.”

“Oh.”

Eddie felt sick again, the waves of nausea crashing down and making him want to puke. He sounded disappointed and Eddie hated that. Why did he get married? Oh yea, because he shoved himself in the closet and she was obsessed with him. He used her and that knowledge was a constant pit of guilt sitting solid in his gut on a daily basis. He’d been so freaked out on their wedding day he’d almost run away. Having sex the first few times was awkward, and he had to drink quite a bit at the reception to even get hard and then he thought about the guy he used to hook up with in college. Tall, broad shoulders, thick biceps and thighs. He could hold Eddie up against the wall while he fucked up into him hard and fast.

That was not a memory he needed in his head while standing alone in a bathroom with someone he was definitely attracted to. Immediately he was picturing Richie pushing him up against the bathroom door, fucking him while he held a hand over his mouth to keep anyone from hearing his loud, slutty moans. A shiver went down his spine and he had to look away.

“Well, if I were hitting on you that would suck.” Richie chuckled awkwardly.

“What do you mean if?” Now distracted by Richie’s bullshit, Eddie was back to treating this perfect stranger as if he’d known him for years and was close with him. Could he really blame it all on the alcohol and the feeling of familiarity? Was it because he was attracted to him and really wanted to feel those big hands on his skin? “You were clearly disappointed when I said I was married.”

“I…have a girlfriend. Didn’t you hear my jokes about her?”

“That was bullshit. You didn’t even write those jokes.”

Richie’s eyes widened as his genuine smile returned to his face. “Why are you so sure I didn’t write my jokes?”

“Because your jokes used to be funny and they aren’t now.”

“Maybe I used to have someone else write for me and I write for myself now.”

Eddie hadn’t actually thought about that being a possibility. He was just so sure that the old jokes were his own words. He was beginning to think maybe he insulted him by saying his new stuff is bad since he didn’t write it when Richie began to laugh. He tried to keep it together, but the way Eddie’s eyebrows furrowed together, and his lips dropped into a frown of concern was so cute he couldn’t contain it. Eddie’s eyes snapped back up to Richie’s face and all at once his expression changed to one of annoyance.

“More bullshit. I take it back, you’re not funny at all and never were. And you’re definitely at least bi.”

“Why do you say that?”

“I can tell.”

“Ah, I just kind of assumed you were married to a woman, but I guess I was wrong. Cause like, only fellow gay people can tell right?”

“What kind of dumbassery is that? And I am married to a woman.”

“Oh. Wow. I cannot read people at all. I really thought you were gay.”

“I am.” Eddie felt like his heart stopped. He’d said it out loud for the first time. He used to think he was bi but ever since realizing his truth, he’d never said it out loud. Why the fuck was he blurting it out to this man in the middle of a public bathroom where anyone could walk in? He just couldn’t understand what was making him feel like an old friend he could confide all his deepest darkest secrets to. This was dangerous and he needed to leave. “I have to go.”

Eddie made his way to the door but was stopped by Richie using his long legs to get in front of him. “Wait, you can’t go without telling me your name.”

“What? Why?”

“You know my name.”

“You’re a celebrity. Everyone here knows your name.” Richie made it clear he wasn’t going to move until he gave it up and Eddie sighed in annoyance. “Fine. I’m Eddie.”

“Eddie…?”

“Kaspbrak. Now can you please move? My coworkers definitely think I’m taking a massive shit or passed out on the floor.”

“Sure thing Eddie Kaspbrak.”

Richie stepped to the side and Eddie wasted no time crashing through the door back into the dim light of the club. Outside the door stood a big buff bodyguard and a line of men stood waiting to pee. He’d actually stopped anyone from entering the bathroom after him. He definitely intended to seduce Eddie into fucking in the bathroom stall. Ignoring this, he made his way back to the table and found his coworkers still there discussing the show.

“Hey, Eddie, we thought you ditched us.” Harold grinned.

“No, sorry, there was a line in the bathroom.” He kind of lied. There had been a line, he had just sort of been the cause of it. “I do have to go though. I’ll see you all at work Monday.”

They each said goodbye and then Eddie was off into the night before Richie decided to follow after him. He wasn’t sure he could ignore the desire to drag him back to this car and ride him in the backseat if he saw him again. Better to rush home before he made a mistake.

----

When Eddie arrived home, Myra was unsurprisingly still awake waiting for him. He told her the meeting went well but she should head to bed without him as he needed a shower to wash the smell of the club off of him. Really he just needed to be alone and it was the only option. He’d banned her from sneaking into the shower with him after she tried to use two in one shampoo and conditioner on him. That wasn’t a thing and he only used professional hypoallergenic products recommended by his stylist.

Once under the hot stream of water, he closed his eyes, resting one hand against the wall to help support himself. That night wasn’t the first night he’d been tempted to go home with a stranger, but this time was different. He hadn’t actually touched him, but he swore he could feel his hands on his body, his fingers in his hair. A shiver went down his spine, his skin tingling where imaginary fingers traced over his body. The sound of his name from Richie’s mouth filled his mind as if he were there, whispering it over and over.

Before Eddie could even think, his fingers were wrapping around his dick, already hard just from his own imagination. He closed his eyes, focusing on how his face looked so close and in person, the sound of his laugh, the way one side of his mouth lifted up higher than the other when he smiled. He let his mind run wild, imagining what would have happened if he’d given in and stayed in that filthy bathroom with Richie.

“Eddie…Eddie…” His voice echoed in his head, making him shiver. With the door blocked by his bodyguard, there was no need to cram into a tiny stall, he thought. Instead, Richie would bend him over one of the sinks, his hands gripping the cold porcelain, his bare belly pressed against the edge. He wondered what it would be like to be fucked by Richie. How big he was, how long he could hold out. Had he even been with a guy before and did he prefer to receive? It didn’t matter really, because this was his fantasy and in it, Richie was perfect and knew exactly what Eddie needed.

In real time, Eddie had his shoulder pressed hard against the shower wall, one hand still jacking himself off, the other knuckle deep inside him while in his head Richie was pounding into him. He was close and part of his brain told him to bite down on his lip to stay quiet, so he wasn’t heard. He told himself it was because they were in a public bathroom, but he knew the real reason, the one who was likely listening outside the door for any noise. She would barge in and say she thought he fell in the shower if she heard any unusual noise, so he bit down until it hurt because he didn’t want to think about that. Not when Richie was deep inside him, moaning out his name and Eddie was close, so close…

He took a sharp inhale, spilling over his fingers and onto the shower floor. He knew that wasn’t great for the pipes as it washed away, but just a little wasn’t so bad, right? His head was a muddled cloud of post orgasm bliss and while the fantasy was quickly fading, he could still hear Richie’s voice echoing his name in his head. Over and over while Eddie reaching around the shower curtain for toilet paper to clean off his hand, while he quickly washed himself up and let the water run cold to calm himself down before leaving the safety and privacy of the bathroom. It continued as he shut off the water and wrapped himself in a towel and then his robe, repeating as he wiped the fog from the mirror and stared into his still wide pupils. It wouldn’t stop, he couldn’t will his voice away and then… “Eds!” the voice was younger, but he was absolutely sure that it was Richie.

The shock caused him to gasp, that same dizzy feeling he’d felt in the club coming back to him. A knock came from the door a second later followed by Myra’s frantic voice. “Eddie? Are you ok? I thought I heard something!”

Trying to calm himself, he took a deep breath before responding. “I’m fine. Just thought I saw a spider. I’ll be out in a second.” He knew she’d been sitting there ever since she heard the water start up. She always did. He could hear her footsteps going back down the hall toward the bedroom and he knew if he didn’t hurry she’d just come right back and demand he open the door. Grabbing another towel, he dried his hair a bit before bringing out the dryer. His mom had told him at a young age that it was never good to go to bed with wet hair and Myra felt the same way.

Hair dry and head calmed, he left the bathroom and the fantasy of Richie Tozier behind.

----

SpaghettiMan: Is it cheating to masturbate to someone else?

Eddie sat at his desk at work a few days later, the guilt of his almost-but-not-really with Richie sitting in his stomach all weekend. He’d wanted to talk to his friend about it, but it wasn’t safe to communicate with her at home. He’d met her in an online support group a few months before. She was also in a bad, controlling marriage though her husband was violent toward her and constantly accused her of cheating. They didn’t know each other’s real names, it wasn’t allowed in the group, but they’d become close and had moved to a private room where they could talk just the two of them. He’d created a stupid username that had been stuck in his head for years without any explanation but definitely hid who he really was. Now, he waited for her to respond, chewing the inside of his lip.

WinterFire: I’m sorry…what?

SpaghettiMan: I had the opportunity to cheat and I didn’t! I’m a good man…but I did go home and masturbate while thinking about them.

WinterFire: Wow, um…ok. I guess it’s better than screwing your wife while thinking about them, maybe?

SpaghettiMan: Oh god…

WinterFire: Does your wife know?

SpaghettiMan: Of course not! I don’t even sleep with her anymore unless she gets me really, really drunk.

WinterFire: So…who was it?

SpaghettiMan: What?

WinterFire: The almost. Who was it?

SpaghettiMan: Is that important?

WinterFire: Absolutely. If you want me to judge you then I need all the details.

Eddie’s fingers hesitated over the keys. He hadn’t told her that he was gay. It was anonymous, but if he gave her the name of a celebrity thought to be straight, it would open a whole can of worms. He decided it was ok to tell her about himself, but he wouldn’t give away Richie’s name.

SpaghettiMan: It was…a guy.

WinterFire: Oh

His heart pounded in his chest as he watched the typing bubbles appear and disappear several times. Part of him had always been afraid that she was really Myra pretending to be someone else to get information out of him, though he didn’t know if she was actually capable of that. Finally, the chat chime came from his speakers.

WinterFire: So, you’re bi? Or pan?

SpaghettiMan: I’m gay

His fingers shook as he hit send. Twice now he’d admitted it in just a few short days. It was terrifying and liberating all at the same time. Like the weight of the world was lifted off of his shoulders for just a moment while laced with fear of the unknown. How would she react? Before she could, his fingers were flying over the keys.

SpaghettiMan: I thought I was bi for a long time. I slept with men in college but also some women.

SpaghettiMan: I met my wife and she loved me, and I thought I loved her, so we got married and then I realized.

SpaghettiMan: I didn’t want to hurt her but also she’s…well you know what she’s like from the stories I’ve told you. I don’t know if I could get away if I tried. She’s so manipulative, I don’t know what she’d do if I told her the truth and left.

WinterFires: Hey, it’s ok. You don’t have to defend yourself to me. Sexuality is a crazy thing.

WinterFires: I’ve for sure had more than one woman in my bed. Sometimes at the same time.

She added a little winking emoji after that, and Eddie felt himself calming down.

WinterFires: Maybe this is something you should tell the group. I want to help but I’m not really sure what to say. I don’t think what you did counts as cheating, but I do think you need to find a way to tell her the truth. She deserves a man who can handle her toxic ass and actually wants to sleep with her, and you deserve to be happy and live your truth.

He contemplated what she said for the rest of the day. She wasn’t wrong, but if it were that easy, he’d have done it already. Still, he trusted her and her opinion so the next meeting they had, he’d bring it up. He’d already said it twice, what was once more?

----

As the days went by, Eddie couldn’t get Richie out of his head. He haunted his dreams, sometimes they were younger and sometimes they were nightmares where they were running from…something. He could never fully remember the dreams all he knew was that Richie was there. Sometimes there were other people. Always five, always blurred so he couldn’t see them. Only one had any discernible features – red hair. Beyond that, it was as if he was looking at them through foggy glass.

One thing was certain, Richie Tozier had burrowed his way into Eddie’s brain and taken up permanent residence. He started watching his older routines again, finding clips online and on streaming services. Eventually he made it to his new stuff. And, while he still didn’t think the new stuff was funny, he couldn’t stop watching.

When the weekend rolled around once more, he felt like a teenager who hadn’t seen their crush all week. So, against his better judgement, he approached Harold with an invitation to go back to the club for drinks. Harold had definitely been surprised but had agreed and invited along a group of their coworkers to join, making a night of it. Eddie told Myra they had to go back to the club to go over some paperwork with the owner. This time, the lie made him feel guilty. He wasn’t lying to enjoy a night of relaxation; he was lying so he could attempt to see the man he was interested in. This definitely counted as cheating, right?

The line wasn’t as bad this time as there were no big-name comedians performing, so they’d waited their turn to be allowed inside. His coworkers chatted happily while Eddie felt like he was going to crawl out of his skin from nervous energy. Where were the odds he was even there? He’d only been at the club last weekend because he had a show. He was paid to be there. This was stupid. He was stupid. He should just fake illness and go home to his wife. But then they were at the front, paying admission to see a band he didn’t know, and he didn’t stop.

The inside was the same as before, but this time a band occupied the stage playing a song he’d never heard before. They claimed a table and Eddie’s eyes scanned the room for a familiar face. There was no sign of him, or his big bodyguard. Of course, he wasn’t there. Eddie was just a one time attempted pick up and he hadn’t thought of him since. Anything Eddie had imagined was just that…imaginary.

“You ok Kaspbrak?” Harold asked.

“Yea, I’m fine. I just suddenly feel really tired. I think going out today was actually a bad idea.” He felt so sad and then felt stupid for feeling sad.

“What? Really? You created this night out and now you’re tapping out just as it’s getting started?” Harold looked disappointed.

“I’m really sorry. Maybe I’m coming down with something. We can try again next week, ok?”

He didn’t wait for a response as he stood and headed for the door. As he exited onto the nearly dark street, he wondered what he was doing. He was married, what was he planning to do? What if Richie had been there? It wouldn’t make a difference or change his circumstances. If he wanted to pursue hot guys in clubs, he needed to first get a divorce. He was acting on impulse and it was time to reign it in.

Part of his mind kept telling him to go back. Just because he wasn’t there, didn’t mean he wouldn’t show up. That was precisely the kind of thought he was trying to remove, so he ignored it and kept walking.

----

The rest of the weekend, Eddie stayed home and watched things that had absolutely nothing to do with a certain comedian. He had lunch and dinner with Myra and on Sunday, over a dinner of all her favorite foods, he told her.

“What are you talking about? Don’t be silly, Eddie.” She said with a wave of her hand, dismissing what he’d just said.

“I’m serious, Myra. When we met and got married I thought I liked women too and maybe on some small level I do, but I want to be with a man. I want a divorce.”

She slammed her glass down on the table, her face turning red. “Who? Who is this man you want to be with?”

“There isn’t anyone specific. I just think it’s time I find someone.”

“You already have someone! Me!”

“You know what I mean, Myra. And you deserve to find someone too.”

“You’re just being ridiculous. You’ve got a fever and are delirious. I’ll call your doctor in the morning.”

“I’m not sick, I’m not delirious. This has been on my mind for a long time. I’m sorry. I never wanted to hurt you, but it’s time.”

“I won’t hear anymore of this!” She stood from the table. “I’m going to have a nice hot bath and then I’m going to bed. In the morning we’ll both be thinking a lot clearer and you’ll see that this was just foolishness.”

Without giving him a chance to respond, she left the room. A moment later, Eddie could hear the water running in the bathtub. Sighing, he cleared the table, loaded the dishwasher and put away all of the leftovers. With her still in the bath, he went to the room they shared and packed a bag with pajamas, toiletries and a suit for work. He was in his car and headed to a hotel before she emerged from the bathroom.

----

Eddie was sat at his desk the next day, chat window opened on his screen and feeing exhausted. He’d tossed and turned all night, anxiety about how difficult things were about to become plaguing his mind. He’d checked out of the hotel that morning, his things in the trunk of his car, but he figured he’d be back there or at another hotel that night.

SpaghettiMan: I did it. I told her everything (mostly) and slept in a hotel last night.

WinterFires: Holy crap! Good for you, dude! I’m proud of you.

SpaghettiMan: Thanks. It was pretty awful. I actually left when she was bathing, and my phone has been turned off, so I have no idea what she’s doing or thinking right now.

“Hey, Eddie.” He turned in his chair to see one of the assistants standing close by. “You’ve got a visitor. They said to meet them out in the parking lot.”

“What?” He looked toward the front entrance and saw no one standing there.

“Yea, it’s kind of weird. Do you need me to call the police or…?”

“No, it’s ok. I’ll handle it.”

SpaghettiMan: She may have just shown up at my work. I have a visitor waiting in the parking lot. If I’m not back in ten minutes, I’m probably dead.

WinterFires: Oh shit, be careful ok?

Eddie’s stomach twisted in knots as he road the elevator down to the ground floor. He tried to see who it was through the front windows but there were several people outside and he didn’t know who it was waiting for him. He went to the desk in the lobby and approached the security guard.

“Hi, so I’m Edward Kaspbrak, I work upstairs. I’m about to go meet some stranger out in the parking lot. I’m sure it’s nothing, but if you see anything go down can you…interfere?” He felt so stupid.

“Do you…want me to go out there with you?” The guy looked out into the parking lot out of curiosity.

“No, that might be bad. Just…if a woman tries to force me into a car, call the police and tell them it was my wife.”

“Right. Ok.” The guard seemed confused and maybe a little amused, but he watched as Eddie exited the building and stood close to the window to observe.

Eddie stayed close to the building and scanned his surroundings. He didn’t see Myra, but then a tall figure with a hood and sunglasses waved in his direction. So, not Myra. A hitman maybe? Or someone hired to kidnap him and take him home? Either way, he looked back to the security guard in the window and then made his way through the parked cars to where the person was standing.

“Before you say anything, I’m guessing my wife sent you. I don’t know what she’s paying you or what she told you to do but know that I’m planning to leave her enough money in the divorce to be comfortable for a few years. Also, there’s a security guard watching us, and I’ve instructed him to call the police if you try anything.” He tried to sound confident, but his voice squeaked on the last bit.

The person smiled and removed their glasses. Richie.

“You’re a hard man to find Mr. Kaspbrak.” He grinned, tucking the glasses into his jacket pocket.

“Why are you here?” That might have sounded harsher than he intended.

“I’ve been looking for you since that night we met. I went back to that club a few times, figured it was a place you frequented. I saw the people you were with last time, but you were nowhere in sight.”

“I…was there. I just left. I was sick.”

“Well, I talked to them anyway and they told me you all worked together and after a few rounds they told me exactly where to find you.”

“Are you stalking me?” Eddie ignored the flutter in his chest and his quickly increasing heartrate.

“Flat answer, yes. I wanted to see you again. I haven’t been able to get you out of my head and I needed to find out why.”

“I…me too. What the fuck is happening?” Eddie took a step back, suddenly feeling breathless.

“Fate?”

“No, I keep having these dreams where we’re kids, and I’ve never seen you as a kid but I know it’s you and there are five others but they’re all…”

“Blurry?”

“How did you know that?”

“I’ve had the same dreams. And there’s this thing that’s trying to kill us. I think. I just know we’re scared of it.”

“You’re lying. You’re full of shit. You’ve been talking to someone. Winter…you’ve talked to her. You are her, aren’t you?”

“Who? I haven’t talked to anyone. I swear, I’m telling the truth. It’s been going on ever since I saw you that night.”

Eddie felt sick, a panic attack creeping up on him as it became harder to breathe. “Whoa, shit, you ok?” Richie asked, stepping forward. “Do you have your inhaler?”

“How?” Eddie asked between shaky breaths. “How did you know I use an inhaler?”

“Uh…lucky guess?”

Eddie shook his head and took a deep breath, holding it for ten seconds and letting it go then repeating. Richie stood close by and watched, concern in his eyes.

“Look, people are starting to stare and if I get recognized it could be a whole thing so why don’t we go get lunch somewhere and I’ll tell you everything that’s happened to me since we met, ok?”

Eddie nodded, letting out his breath in one long blow, finally feeling himself begin to calm down. “Fine, but you’re paying.”

----

Two weeks later and they weren’t any closer to finding out what their dreams meant or why they knew strange facts about each other they shouldn’t know. However, dinners and drinks and long nights talking until the sun rose, and they didn’t care anymore. Maybe it was fate bringing them together. Some cosmic thing that can’t quite be explained.

They agreed that they wouldn’t pursue a relationship until Eddie’s divorce was final, which would probably take a while with all the fits Myra was throwing. He couldn’t take care of himself, he needed her, she might be pregnant, etc. Eddie would listen to her and then make it clear that he was going forward with the divorce. Getting her to sign would be another obstacle all together but Richie put him in touch with a good lawyer, so he was hopeful.

He was driving back to his hotel afterwork, stuck on yet another call with Myra, her begging him to reconsider. This time she had decided that it was ok if he kept male lovers behind closed doors as long as they stayed together, and he gave her a baby. She was planning it all out when another call came in. The ID read “Derry, Maine” and a chill went through him. He told Myra to hold on and switched over.

“Eddie? It’s Mike.”

Oh.

----

So maybe Eddie had an entire life that he couldn’t even remember. Filled with friends he’d known since childhood. And Richie. That’s what was happening with them. Why they seemed to know each other. It was because they did. Intimately. They were friends for years and then in the 8th grade, they started dating. They dated all the way until they each left Derry and then…nothing. They both just, forgot. As did the others.

Eddie was frantic as he stood outside Richie’s door, knocking rapidly until his knuckles began to hurt. When Richie opened the door, he had his phone pressed to his ears, his eyes wide as saucers.

“Yea, I’m gonna have to call you back.” He said, dropping the phone to his side.

“Was that Mike?”

“No, Mike called just before. That was my manager wanting to know why I’m canceling my shows to go back to my hometown I didn’t even know existed until fifteen minutes ago.”

“Do you remember?”

“What, that we were in love and ready to start our adult lives together and then we completely forgot each other?”

“Yea…that.”

Without missing another beat, both surged forward and wrapped each other up in their arms. Richie stepped back into the apartment, pulling Eddie with him and shutting the door.

“I can’t believe you married a woman.” Richie laughed.

“Fuck you.” Eddie’s voice was muffled by Richie’s shoulder, but the message got across. “I cheated on you. A lot.”

“Hey, me too. Forget about it. It was…another life.”

Eddie pulled out of Richie’s embrace but stood close, looking up at him. “I still can’t do anything until I’m divorced. I just…can’t.”

“I got it. But I feel nineteen again like we haven’t lost anything when we really lost like twenty years.”

“I don’t want to think about that. I can’t.” Eddie shook his head as if willing the thought away. “So…are we going to Derry?”

“Our friends need us. Don’t we have to?”

“What if we forget again…”

“I guess we’ll just have to rely on fate to bring us together again.”

“So, back to Derry.”

“Back to Derry.”

#It (2017)#it (2019)#reddie #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #Ro writes

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sillyrabbit81 · 3 years

Text

Her Heavy Cross

Summary: Three years after tragedy hits, Lana she decides to start dating again. She meets Will through a dating app and they begin an online romance. After months of constant requests, Lana relents and agrees to meet and go on an irl date with Will. But is Will who he says he is? Lana is quickly pulled into an intense relationship forcing her to confront her tragic past. Will Lana face it or will she close her heart forever?

Pairing: OMC x OFC

Word Count: approx 3k

Warnings: swearing, angst, implied smut

Authors Note: The story started as a Henry Cavill fanfiction but I changed it to be an original character, but shades of Henry are still there. Hope you enjoy the story and thanks for reading.

Part 10 Part 12

Part 11

The next few days were monotonous. Most mornings, I would go to the gym. Then I'd head off to work. After work, I'd take Perrin for a walk. We stopped at the dog park a few times to throw the ball. Then I'd go home and read or watch tv. After dinner, I would FaceTime Liam before falling asleep.

Although I missed him terribly, it had been good to have some space. I was able to think about us a bit. Liam was always great on the phone, a gentleman even. Yes, he flirted with me and made inappropriate comments, but they were always in context. I'd be lying if I said I didn't flirt with him back. But it was nice to get to know him better, and I decided I definitely liked him as a person and a lover. He was sweet, sincere, funny and warm, the same as he was when he was Will. He seemed to accept who I was. There were no digs at me, maybe some friendly ribbing, but it seemed he liked me too. We spent a lot of time laughing. We had a similar sense of humour.

He opened up about some of his past relationships, how he felt about them and what went wrong. A lot of the times, he admitted to fault, especially in the early ones. I talked a bit about Andy but kept a lot back. No doubt, he noticed.

Thursday afternoon changed everything.

Liam called me when I was driving home from work at about four-thirty. It broke with our routine. We usually spoke around nine o'clock. I answered the phone, and Liam's voice came through the speakers.

"Hello, Sweetheart. How was your day?"

I smiled at this now familiar greeting. "Really good, Liam. How was yours? Have you finished work already?"

"Yeah, good. I'm supposed to stay for another hour, but I wasn't needed, so I left." Liam paused and said, "Listen, Lana, I have to tell you something."

"Oh, no."

"Yesterday, a parent from your school saw the pictures of us." I went cold. I was 10 minutes from my house, but I pulled over. "She left a message on one of the pictures that you look like a teacher from her kid's school." Oh shit. "Anyway, this morning, you were on duty at the "kiss and drop", whatever that is."

Robotically I said, "it's where the parents drop the kids off at school without getting out of the car." I could see where this is as going.

"Right." He sounded strange but continued. "Well, they took a picture of you, put that side by side with the others. Long story short, Sarah was called to confirm your name."

"Oh, for fucks sake." I was pissed off. "What did she tell them?"

"She said she couldn't confirm or deny."

"In other words, yes, but my boss said, don't say anything."

"That's a bit unfair, Lana. She can't lie to them, or they won't bother calling her when they get a story. They will just run it because they can't trust what she says."

"Fuck this," I said and hung up on Liam.

I slammed my foot down on the accelerator and spun the tires. I had a Toyota Camry SX. It's sort of sporty, but it's not meant to be driven like that, but I was fuming. Liam rang again, but I ignored it. I backed off and slightly and rounded a corner, tires chirping as I went. I fumbled in my bag, driving one-handed until I found and lit a cigarette. As stupid as it was, I drove the rest of the way home like that.

When I got home, I quickly changed into my Draggin jeans, leather jacket and riding boots. I grabbed my helmet, gloves and went for a ride.

I loved being on the bike. Andy was the first guy I'd been with who rode. I remembered the first time he got me on the bike. He hadn't even let the clutch out, and I screamed and jumped off. The second time was better, and I went around the block before I got off. The third time, I was hooked. I loved holding onto his waist as we rode, my chest pressed against his back, my thighs touching his, my hands under his t-shirt. I loved the heavy thrumming of the bike, the wind whistling past. It was exciting, erotic, but also calming. Calming is what I needed.

I was so angry. Not at Liam or Sarah. Or even the bitch who outed me or the others who put my photo out there in the first place. I didn't know who I was angry with. Hollywood? Gossip? Social media? Myself? Maybe I was mad at myself. I deserved it. I'd turned my back on Andy, fucked another guy, and now I'm in a relationship with him, according to public record. Every time someone googles my name, his will come up.

The parents at school will give me looks, and I won't know what they are thinking. Will they be laughing at me? And if it didn't work out, everyone would know. I would have to go through a break up while everyone watched, picked at it, chose sides and commented.

I rode for about an hour up through the Blue Mountains. When I stopped for petrol at Wentworth Falls, my thoughts had settled, and I was thinking clearer. I stopped at a cafe, got a coffee and checked my phone. Liam had called twice more and sent a few messages. Riza had called and texted me.

I checked Riza's first. It was a link to an article, Liam Cross's Secret Aussie Lover. Her text simply said, "Jen just found this. Call me if you need me." I didn't click the link.

I checked Liam's. He said he wants to make sure I'm ok. Then he said he wants to come over and talk to me.

I called Liam. He seemed to answer before it even rang. "Sweetheart. Are you ok?" He sounded a bit frantic.

I took a deep breath. "I'm sorry I snapped at you."

"I knew you'd be upset."

"Upset is one thing. I snapped at you and blamed Sarah. You're right. It's not her fault."

"Lana, don't worry about that. Did you read the article?"

"No."

Liam was quiet a while. Then he said, "Are you ok now?"

"Yeah, I'm ok. I just needed some time to calm down." I let out a short laugh. "I am a redhead after all. I have a temper."

Liam laughed, "Do I have to be worried about being stabbed in my sleep?"

"Nah, being a redhead wouldn't make me do that. I get that part of me from being a Scorpio."

"I don't know whether to be scared or turned on right now."

I smirked, "Why not be both?"

Liam laughed and then got serious. "You sure you're ok? Do you want me to come over? I almost did get in my car when you wouldn't answer."

"Stalker," I teased.

"And that's why I didn't."

"I'm not at home anyway."

"Where are you?"

"I took off on the bike to clear my head. I'm in the mountains right now."

"The mountains?"

"Yeah, the Blue Mountains. Look west tomorrow, and you'll see them."

"I'll do that." Liam paused. "I'm really looking forward to seeing you tomorrow."

"I'm looking forward to seeing you too. Bye, Liam."

"Bye, Sweetheart."

I finished my coffee and rode home.

I texted Riza to let her know I was ok. I played with Perrin. I texted my brother to remind him to pick Perrin up tomorrow afternoon. I ate some dinner before packing my bag for tomorrow and went to bed. It was a long time before I finally fell into a restless sleep.

Liam Cross's Secret Aussie Lover

"Pictures of Liam Cross, 38, with an unknown female were circulating on social media earlier this week, and tongues were set wagging.

"Users were quick to put their detective hats on and tracked down Cross's new flame late yesterday. The woman was identified as Mrs Alana Walker, 30, Sydneysider, and special education teacher. Not much else is known about Mrs Walker other than she was widowed in 2017. Her husband, Andrew Walker, and father Brian Kelly were killed in a horrific Boxing Day crash when his car was destroyed by a truck driver who had a medical incident behind the wheel.

"Sources close to Cross say that he has been elated the past couple of months, and now they know why. They hope for his sake that this relationship will not be plagued by scandal like his previous relationships.

"For now, Cross's camp is remaining tight-lipped on the situation. While they don't deny a relationship, they will not confirm it.

"Cross is currently in Sydney for an adaptation of the widely popular and romantic fantasy epic Beyond the Stones series by C. W. Taylor. He will co-star alongside Australian Myra Roberts with an expected release in the northern hemisphere winter of 2022."

I woke on Friday morning and laid in bed for a while. I should have gone to the gym, but I just couldn't get my body to move. I wanted to chuck a sickie, blow off the whole day, maybe go for a swim, or just watch movies all day. I had an urge to watch Kill Bill for some reason. But I couldn't do that to the kids.

I knew I was just trying to avoid the parents at school. I'm sure most of them know by now. Gossip runs rampant at the school gate. We've all seen Big Little Lies. Probably all the staff knew too. It was one of those days where I wish I could just press fast forward and get to the part where I see Liam again. I didn't want to miss out on that.

In the end, I got up, showered and got ready for work. I tamed my hair, put on my war paint and dressed in black work pants, ballet flats and a pink knitted cardigan.

I started to pack my bag for the weekend, trying to work out what outfits I needed. I had decided what I wanted to wear for dinner tonight, but I didn't know what to wear to bed. Would I even need anything to wear? I blushed at the thought. I packed a basic set of pyjamas. I added jeans and a couple of t-shirts, a hoodie and my Dr Martens. I put some pretty underwear in there too. I didn't have much, just a white lace set which Liam had already seen and two black lace sets. I packed them all.

My phone beeped, and I got a message from Liam. It was a picture of his face all sweaty from working out. He had his tongue sticking out. He had written, I was going to send you a picture of my cock but thought that was a bit vulgar. So I decided to send you a picture of another part of my body that's going to fuck you tonight. Can't wait x.

My whole body grew hot, my stomach filled with butterflies, and I giggled. I started to reply with 'cheeky bastard', but then I had an idea. I sent him a picture of my face with my mouth open in an O shape, and I rested a finger on the corner of my lower lip. I wrote, I was going to send you a picture of my pussy but thought it was a bit obvious. So I sent you a picture of another part of my body that's going to get fucked tonight. X

Within a minute, I got a reply of: Game on, Sweetheart.

Well, if Liam wants to play a game, I can play a game.

I pulled my pyjamas out of my bag and put in a satin shift, pretty much my only sexy bedclothes. I thought about what other sexy photos I could take and packed a few other things. Then I made my lunch and headed off to work.

I rang Riza on the way to work. She asked me about how I was feeling. I told her I was dealing with it, but I said no more about it. I asked Riza about how she and Jen were going, and she said we would meet up soon.

"I miss you," she said.

"Yeah, I miss you too. Talk soon, ok?"

"Yeah, have a good weekend slut! Tell Liam I said hi."

"Suck a dick Riz."

We hung up, and almost immediately, Dave calls.

He doesn't say hello or anything, just launches in with, "Are you dating Liam Cross?" Fuck. "One of Lucy's friends just sent her an article about you and him."

No use denying it then. "Yeah, I am. He's the one I'm spending the weekend with." I braced for his reply.

"Fuck me dead. My fucking little sister is rooting Liam fucking Cross." His voice didn't sound angry. He sounded impressed.

I rolled my eyes. "It's not a big deal. Just don't forget to get Perrin and don't tell Mum."

"Not a big deal? The kids will go crazy when they meet him."

"Dave, we are hardly at the point where we are meeting families."

"Yeah, alright, keep your shirt on."

"I'll come by Sunday arvo to pick Perrin up?"

"Wanna stay for dinner?"

"Yeah, ok. See you then."

I ended the call and got to work not long after that. I went straight to my classroom, trying to avoid everyone. There was one person I couldn't avoid, and that was Marla, my teacher's aide. She was in her late 50s, though, so I thought she would be pretty safe. She didn't mention anything all morning, which was a relief.

At lunchtime, I stayed in the classroom. I told Marla I had some work to do, so she left me alone. I checked my phone and found a message from Liam.

It was a picture of Liam drinking from a bottle of pineapple juice, and it said, Me hydrating for tonight x.

His innuendo made me chuckle, but I had planned for something like this. I took a selfie of myself with a banana in my mouth and sent it with the caption: Presumptive much? Me carbo-loading for tonight.

Liam replied a little later with, I can't decide if I'm winning because my pics are better or if I'm still winning because yours are better.

Marla came back into the classroom about halfway through lunch. She pottered around the room, trying to look busy. She kept looking over at me. I felt myself start to panic. She wasn't acting like that this morning. She must know now. They all must know. I started wondering what everyone was saying about me in the staff room. They had probably sent Marla back to the classroom to see what information they could get out of me. The panic receded, and anger filled the void.

Eventually, I lost my temper. "Have you got something to say, Marla?"

Marla had the good grace to look ashamed. "No. Nothing."

I crossed my arms. "What are they saying?"

Marla sighed, "honestly? They're mostly pretty stoked about it. Happy for you."

I let my arms fall. My vision went a bit blurry. "Really?"

Marla came over and leaned against the table, and rubbed my back. "Oh, Darl, yeah, most of us remember what it was like for you. We just want you to be happy."

I smiled at her, but the tears still came. Marla gave me a tissue. "Thanks, Marla." I sniffed, "ugh, the parents, though. I'm not looking forward to that."

Marla smiled and said, "don't worry about it, Darl. I'll fill in for ya this arvo, and you can do my Wednesday lunch duty. How's that?" I thanked her. Relieved, I hugged her and cleaned myself up.

When school had finished, I made a mad dash to the car park. I knew I was just putting off the inevitable. I'd have to show my face in front of the parents sooner or later, but I decided it was Monday's problem.

I checked my phone before I headed off to Liam's place. He had sent me a shirtless picture of himself with some rope curled up around his shoulder and written, One of my costumes has a rope. It made me think of you. I'm about to leave. See you soon.

Dammit, I couldn't think of a response to that one! I sat and thought about it for ages. I was not about to give in easily. Then it came to me. I got my water bottle and one of my spare undies from my overnight bag. I wet them a bit, put the underwear and water bottle on the bag and took a picture of them both. I wrote. My water bottle leaked in my bag, and my panties got wet. It made me think of you. I'm on my way.

The three circles came up within seconds, and Liam sent, You are in so much trouble, Sweetheart. Park around the back.

And because I can't control my tongue in real life or texts, I wrote back, That's what she said.

I didn't wait for a reply. I just put an audiobook on and drove.

Part 12

#original character #original fiction #romantic story #happy ever after

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anxiouslymalicious · 5 years

Text

Losers Club Plus One Part 7

A Richie x daughter!reader series.

Read the previous part here or go here for the complete series-masterlist!

A/N: So here we go! The next part is here. I really am scared of posting this, you’ll see why once you finished this chapter. This is about 4.5k words so it’s a bit longer and, as always, trigger warnings apply.

I hope you enjoy!

Numbness took over. It was like she was in no control whatsoever over her body. Like her mind had shut off, and she had turned into a puppet, being controlled by a vicious being, not wanting any good for her.

Almost comically, she popped the balloon before throwing on a new, unbloodied and untorn jacket. She struggled to put it on over the towel slung around her arm to somewhat stop the bleeding, but it worked in the end and, finally, she left the room. The hasty movement of walking down the stairs caused a stabbing sensation in the wound, but she felt she needed to get away from the place. Away from the clown. Anywhere in that god forsaken town seemed safer than the hotel room she was attacked in twice.

A harsh wind blew in her face. The cold air of late September bit at her face but calmed her a little. The stinging felt good, almost natural and normal. This was a sensation she knew. This was something she had encountered several times before. When her father was on tour with her and they visited northern states in the autumn months, for one. Or when they packed their bags short before Christmas one year and decided to spend their holidays up in the mountains, spending their days watching Netflix with hot cocoa because they realised that it was actually fucking freezing up there.

All in all, it just felt like something that naturally occurred and happened. A wound caused by claws from a psychotic clown-being that was actually some supernatural being in a place it shouldn’t have been at really wasn’t close to being normal. And it scared her. It scared Y/N to the point where she wondered what the next day would be like. Or the day after. She wondered if she would ever fall asleep without finding the quietness suspicious. She wondered if she would ever walk down the streets at night without being scared by the rustling of leaves because it could be IT. She wondered if, once they left Derry, her life would ever go back to normal.

It wouldn’t be, she thought, not if that damn clown was right.

Slow steps took her through the streets. They were mostly empty except for the occasional family passing her, happily laughing with their children around them. Y/N could swear that she caught something of a ‘canal festival’ but decided to ignore it for now. It didn’t seem important to her situation. What was important, was finding a drug store to fix herself up a little. Maybe being in a lively place where people could be witness to whatever the clown might do. Her hand kept twitching towards the shard in her pocket. The small object made her feel a little less helpless.

“Uhm, excuse me, ma’am.” Y/N finally pressed out as she spotted a relatively young woman. Her dark hair fell over her shoulders in messy locks, her face one Y/N decided she could trust for the moment.

The woman looked up from her phone, curious as to who stopped her in her tracks.

“Do you know where the next drug store is? I’m kind of new around here.” Y/N asked, trying to smile a little to seem less tense, but the stinging of the towel loosely rubbing against the wound was getting worse and worse. It wasn’t yet unbearable, but it was beyond the point she could nor wanted to tolerate much longer.

“Oh, of course. It’s on Center Street.” The unnamed woman replied, a confused expression on both of their faces as she tried to explain the walk to Y/N. She thanked the woman before making her way through the foreign streets, a little unsure, but she didn’t have another choice. Y/N had managed to run out of mobile data just the other day, so google maps wouldn’t be of any help.

Once she had turned into different streets two or three times, the girl started to notice the streets were slowly getting crowded with people. Everything seemed a lot more alive and she felt herself relax at the sight of children as well as adults walking down the streets. From there on, it wasn’t much farther until she found herself on Center Street, drug store in sight. An involuntary smile of relief tugged on her lips as she opened the door, stepping into the kind of run-down place. A slightly musty smell filled her nose, along with the sharp smell of medical alcohol. Instead of bothering her, though, like it would under any other circumstances, she felt at peace, welcoming said smell.

Quickly, she moved around the store, looking for disinfectant and bandages. The place was a little unorganised, like it hadn’t been taken proper care of in a long time. Once she had grabbed what she needed, Y/N noticed that she had no purse with her, meaning, she didn’t have any money on her.

“Fuck.” She mumbled, examining the products in her hands.

Someone was screaming, followed by hectic stumbling before she heard a door open and saw a familiar face run through the store. All eyes were on Eddie. Y/N quickly looked around, ducked down a little, and stuffed the disinfectant, cotton pads, bandages and whatever else she needed in the pockets of her jacket and sweatshirt before getting up. She watched as Eddie struggled to open the door before he left in his still panicked state. Quickly, the young girl moved to follow him.

Her vision almost blurred with tears of pure joy as she saw Eddie’s figure mere steps away from the door.

“Uncle Eds-“ she started, pure horror marking her face. Y/N wished that Eddie hadn’t heard her, but he turned around as if she had never called him anything else. Eddie’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion and he stood still for a moment, questioning why she was here and not at the hotel. Warily, his eyes remained on the insecure girl, outweighing the possibility of her being a trick by IT, but Eddie decided that there was no way in hell IT would call him ‘Uncle Eds’ and so, he moved fast to embrace Y/N.

The second he came closer, Y/N started sobbing. She hugged the man tightly, burying her face in his jacket, letting her tears drop freely. Eddie surely wouldn’t mind. Especially not as his clothing was already dirtied with whatever the black substance on him was.

Carefully, Eddie held the girl, at first awkwardly patting her back, but finally relaxing a little himself. After that nightmare, a familiar face was very much appreciated.

“What are you doing here?” Eddie finally asked, puzzled by her presence.

“Uhm… There was… IT was in the hotel room. And it got me,” she moved her hurt arm a little, “So I went outside and got something to treat it.” Eddie’s eyes widened at that, gently shoving the girl into a lonely alley where he made her sit.

“Show me.” Eddie said, worry prominent in his voice. Y/N complied, very carefully taking off the jacket. Eddie winced a little once he saw the blood on the towel. She removed that as well and Eddie was immediately thrown back to the day when he had patched up Ben after his run in with Bowers. He smiled a little at the memory of the strange bunch.

“What did you get, Y/N?” Eddie asked, looking up at the girl’s face. Sheepishly, she pulled the few appliances out of her sweatshirt and jacket, handing them to Eddie. His eyebrows furrowed a little, deep in thought, before he got to work.

“Why don’t you have a bag for those?” he was focused on the wound, but still a little curious.

“Because we need to take care of the environment.” She replied stiffly. Eddie looked up at her again, the look on his face silently asking her if he looked that stupid. With a sigh, she tried again.

“Because they forgot to give me one. They were too busy watching you struggle with the door.” Eddie looked at her, an annoyed look on his face. Why did Tozier’s always feel the need to tease him?

“Because I forgot to pay.” She finally admitted through gritted teeth, sugar-coating the act.

“You stole all this?!”

“Shh! We don’t want to get caught, now do we?”

“WE?! This is your doing!”

“You’re using this shit. We’re in this together now, asshat.” Y/N whisper-yelled at the older man. To Eddie, it felt almost like bickering with Richie. Just less swear words and insults thrown his way. He shook his head but chuckled a little as he got back to work on her arm.

“What?” Y/N asked, cringing visibly as Eddie disinfected the wound.

“This just reminds me of what the Losers and I once did.” Eddie replied, continuing to tell her how Ben had stumbled into them, how they had seen him all beaten-up, how they had their first actual encounter with Beverly that day, too. How Richie hadn’t let him off, not for a single second, as he tended to Ben’s wounds. Y/N smiled a little at the story, smile deepening when she saw the look on Eddie’s face as he told her about the bickering between him and Richie.

“Have you and… my father always been this close?” Y/N finally asked, thumb nervously flying up, teeth carefully digging into the nail. Eddie blushed violently at the question, not sure how to reply to it. The small man awkwardly coughed, thinking of Myra, his wife, for the first time since arriving. Were he and Richie close? Close enough for anyone to assume something would be going on between them?

“How did you… Why do you think we’re close? I mean all of us Losers are really close friends and- I mean- technically… We have all gone through trauma together. Something like that really brings you closer together.” Eddie stammered.

“Can I be honest with you?”

Eddie nodded.

“You always follow him around. You’re always standing close to him. You’re the only one who offered to walk us back to the hotel. You two mercilessly tease each other. More so than the other Losers. You both just always take that extra step, you know what I mean?” Y/N asked, looking into Eddie’s eyes. He gulped a little. A cold wind blew through the alleyway, slightly cooling Eddie’s burning cheeks. His face resembled a tomato.

Now that he thought about it, actively thought about his actions, Eddie really did notice that he was closer to Richie than the other Losers. Not because he favoured Richie, definitely not, he would have felt incredibly lost as a kid without Big Bill around to lead him. Without Stan to back up his opinions. Without Mike educating him and the others on the history of Derry, warning them about the dangers this place hid. Without Ben who stayed with Eddie as he ran out of medicine and Bill raced into town on silver to get a new inhaler. Without Bev who protected him more times than he could count. But with Richie, it had always been a little different.

Eddie remembered how often he had climbed into the hammock with Richie, openly infuriated at Richie’s disregard towards the rules, but secretly excited he got to do it again.

Eddie remembered how often he had bickered with Richie, throwing insults and swear words at each other without missing a beat, not stopping until one of the other Losers made them.

Eddie remembered how often they messed around together in the quarry, water fights, pushing each other into the water. Eddie always struggled with himself those days. The germs and potential dangers emitted from the quarry held him back. Until Richie challenged him. Until Richie pushed him in. Until Richie came and did something.

“I- uhm… I’m not sure… This is probably just one-sided. I mean according to Richie I’m probably a push-over anyway.” Eddie mumbled, hopeful that she would disagree. And she did. A shake of her head was enough to make Eddie’s heart leap out of his chest as he wrapped the bandages around the girl’s arm.

“What is this?” Y/N finally asked, catching Eddie by surprise.

“What do you mean?” Eddie asked nervously.

“You said ‘this is probably just one-sided’ so what is ‘this’?”

Eddie finished wrapping her arm up, stopping still. Well, what was it? Did he feel more for Richie? But he was married, and he was sure he loved Myra. In some way at least. He wouldn’t have married Myra if he hadn’t. Right?

Eddie couldn’t deny the way he felt. When he first saw Richie again after all these years, he felt a different spark than with the other Losers. Like a bubble of air that had been caught under the ice all winter long had finally burst through the slowly melting ice, popping at last. It was rapid, strange, unexpected yet so welcome.

But hadn’t he felt that way for Myra too some time earlier in their relationship? Eddie wasn’t sure. He really wasn’t. He couldn’t even remember if he had felt somewhat of a spark when they had met. Richie had already teased him about the resemblance between his late mother and his wife and how their marriage must have been a result of his mommy-issues. It had hit close to home when Richie uttered those words but for what reason? Because Eddie felt insulted and loved Myra? Or because Richie was spot on with his suggestions?

“I don’t know.” Eddie finally croaked out. He seemed equally, if not more disturbed than Richie had only hours earlier. “I- I think… I mean I have a wife. I’m married. I don’t think I could… Richie means a lot to me. I know that much. But I never thought about how much and in what way…” Eddie felt hot embarrassment rise in his chest. Tears filled his eyes, threatening to spill at any given moment. His lips quivered. Shame nagged on him, tearing him apart although he didn’t know why exactly.

Y/N nagged on her lower lip. She never knew how to act around Eddie. She had already had a soft spot for Eddie in her heart. He reminded her a lot of herself. Anxious but brave when need be, careful and calculating, but still very dependent on his heart. She shuffled a little closer to Eddie, carefully wrapping her arms around him.

“It’s alright to feel that way. It’s okay to be gay.” Y/N mumbled, making Eddie sob into her shoulder.

“Can I ask you something?” Eddie asked, voice strained as he muttered. Y/N simply nodded in reply.

“Do you know if Richie… If he feels… the same?” Eddie was now anxiously fiddling with his fingers, scared to hear the answer the young girl would give him.

“Well I know if he does. He just asked me not to tell anyone. You’ll have to find out yourself.” She smirked a little, winking at him and, judging by the huge grin spreading like a wildfire on Eddie’s lips, she was sure that he knew exactly what she meant.

Eddie sat up a little straighter again, wiping his eyes with a dry spot on his otherwise dirtied jacket before standing up. He had pocketed the items Y/N stole.

“Come on, let’s get back to the hotel.” He said, holding out his hand for the girl to take. She did, and was helped up rather clumsily, but she appreciated the effort. The two made their way back to the street, where Eddie stopped a taxi to take them back to the place Y/N now dreaded the most.

Y/N fidgeted in the car. Playing with the zipper on her jacket, fiddling with something on her jeans, toying with the shard she had moved from her jeans pocket to the one on her jacket, it went on and on, until she started toying with the top of her bandages that peeked out under the slightly rolled up jacket and sweatshirt sleeve. Eddie swatted her hand away and gave her a pointed look.

“What has you so wound up?” he asked, and she just shrugged in reply. Maybe, if she didn’t speak it out loud, it wouldn’t be true. Maybe that would save her dignity and whatever of her sanity she had left since arriving in the forsaken town that is Derry.

“Come on, you can talk to your uncle Eds.” He smiled at her, a teasing smile, asking her to join in on the friendly banter. She didn’t.

“I’m sorry for calling you that, Eddie.” Y/N mumbled, turning her back a little towards Eddie, looking out the window instead, watching the world pass by. The town looked so pretty, so calm and peaceful. It was incredible to Y/N that something as evil as IT could be lurking somewhere among them.

“No, no…” Eddie’s face was furrowed, fearing that he might have said something wrong, something to push the girl away from him. He wanted to protect the girl, not push her away from him. “I-I appreciated it. Please don’t feel sorry for calling me that!”

Y/N smiled a little, but remained as inexplicably cold towards Eddie as she had been since climbing into the stuffy car. The heater was at full blast, giving the car an uncomfortable heat contrast to the chilly outside. It was like Y/N had been exchanged in the few seconds Eddie hadn’t paid attention, when he had gotten into the cramped car and checked his seatbelt twice, thrice to make sure that it really would protect him.

“What’s going on, little one?” Eddie asked, met with only a shrug and a soft sigh in reply. He wiped his face with his hand, it still smelt like disinfectant that he had used on the girl (and, admittedly, a little on himself) earlier. It made him smile for a short moment, giving him some sense of safety. It wasn’t much, after all he was still covered in the black goo vomited up by the Leper IT had turned into, but it made him feel a little cleaner.

“Funny story,” Eddie started, hoping to catch the teen’s attention and take her mind off whatever was bothering her so much, “down in the basement in the drug store, I was thrown up on by IT. That’s- that’s why I’m covered in… this shit.”

An airy chuckle sounded through the car. It was huffed, barely there, but he heard it. Eddie looked at the girl, spotting the smallest trace of a smile on her lips. It was worth making a fool out of himself for.

“I was attacked by IT down there before. When we were kids. No idea why I was stupid enough to go there again.” He chuckled to himself, glancing up at the rear-view mirror where he was met with the questioning, almost disturbed look of the taxi driver. His eyes left Eddie and the man focused back on the traffic before him.

“Maybe we shouldn’t openly talk about this in front of people who aren’t involved.” Y/N whispered, a sad smile on her lips as she leaned closer to Eddie. He gulped a little, embarrassed that he forgot about that, and nodded before a chuckle burst out of his chest. He pushed the girl playfully. Y/N pushed him back.

The atmosphere in the car seemed so much brighter. The sun, although it shone weakly through the dirty windows, felt much warmer, nicer, and even the rattling heater didn’t bother her anymore. She was almost compelled to confessing to Eddie.

Fuck it, she thought.

“Eddie… Uncle Eds, before I came to the drugstore something happened.” Y/N started suddenly, her eyes trailing over his dirty face for a moment before she couldn’t bear seeing his curious eyes watching her intently anymore and looked down. Her hands kneading themselves in her lap suddenly seemed so much more interesting. The taxi driver lifted his eyes to watch them, suddenly seeming strangely curious. Eddie nervously glanced at the rear-view mirror for a minute, not sure if he wanted her to continue right there, but he really wanted to know, needed to know to help her.

“I was in the hotel room and IT was there. IT attacked me again. Hurt me. But you know about that part. What you don’t know is that IT left me a little message and- “

“We’re here.” The taxi driver rudely interrupted Y/N’s confession. Her palms were sweaty and she could still feel her heart painfully hammering in her chest. A groan escaped Eddie’s lips as he hurriedly pulled a few dollar bills out of his wallet, giving them to the driver with a muttered ‘keep the change’.

Eddie and Y/N got out of the car, standing before the hotel that was connected to so many bad memories already. Y/N sighed while pushing the doors open, Richie’s frantic, desperate voice hitting her ears immediately.

“IT took her! I know IT did!” Richie’s voice was almost booming through the lobby. Beverly had wrapped her arms around the shaking man, desperately trying to calm him down. Richie’s back was facing the door and Bev was too concerned with Richie to look up and notice the girl walking in.

“She’ll be alright, she’s a tough-“

“Y/N!” Ben exclaimed as he spotted her and Eddie in the entrance of the hotel. Richie lifted his head from its place on Bev’s shoulder, whipped around and, not wasting a second, ran to embrace the girl. His arms wrapped tightly around her shaky body, pulling her into his chest and kissing her head. To the Losers, Richie seemed to be in a frenzy, but none of them could blame him. He was left thinking that his daughter might have been taken, hurt or killed. They understood.

Y/N loosely wrapped her arms around him as a strange cocktail of emotions bubbled up in her chest.

“Where have you been?!” Richie now asked, his anger catching up with him as he looked at her. It wasn’t anger so much as worry.

“Why do you even care?” Y/N asked, trying to pull out of Richie’s iron grip.

“Why do I- fuck, you’re my daughter! Of course, I care!” Richie was puzzled at her reaction, lacking understanding for what was going on. Had he missed something? He loosened his hold on her to look at her face. Eddie had been meanwhile embraced by Ben and Bev who looked worried but kept listening in on what was going on. And the Losers were confused. Y/N and Richie seemed like they had an incredibly close relationship, none of them could understand why she was acting like that.

“Am I?!” Y/N asked, tears stinging in her eyes as she hit Richie’s chest, pushing him away from her. He stood shocked. Silence swallowed the room. No one understood.

“Am I your daughter? Your fucking flesh and blood? Because I’m pretty fucking sure that you’re not my dad. I’m pretty fucking sure I’m adopted!” she continued, breaking the thick silence weighing them down. She pushed Richie again as hot tears uncontrollably rolled down her cheeks, over her jaw, until they united just under her chin, turning into one fat tear that finally dropped onto her shirt.

Ben wanted to speak up, wanted to interfere and hold the girl in his arms, calming her down, but something stopped him.

“I- What- what makes you think that?” Richie asked, tears of his own leaving trails on his cheeks, hurt evident in his voice. He was sure he had just witnessed not only his heart, but his whole world shatter right before him.

“Wh-what happened? Y/N what happened?” he continued before the girl even so much as had a chance to explain herself. Eddie, Ben and Bev couldn’t speak. They felt as though their breath had been stolen from their lungs, their minds blank. Richie sounded just like he did when he was 13 years old. They had barely seen him cry back in the day, but if they did, it was brutal. The Losers felt their hearts break as they watched their best friend turn into his insecurity-ridden, hurt 13-year old self.

“IT came back. IT fucking attacked me and I was all alone,” she cried, taking a few steps back from the group of friends, hands balled into fists, “and IT left me a little truth. IT left me a balloon with a message on it, telling me that I’m fucking adopted. You’re nothing but a fucking liar.”

“Y/N, please. You can’t trust IT. IT lies and-“

“Oh yeah? Last time IT talked about Stanley, it was telling the truth. Before any of you fucking knew. Richie fucking lies for a living, how can I be sure he isn’t lying to me too?” Y/N interrupted Beverly and pushed past them, shaking their hands off her as the Losers tried to gently get a hold of her. None of them felt capable of moving though.

Richie felt his heart ache. He felt as though his heart had been stabbed, blood filling his lungs, killing him slowly from the inside. He didn’t know how he felt, what he felt. He felt the world crashing down on him, he felt heartbroken and scared and lost altogether, but he most importantly felt numb, overwhelmed. It was like his mind had been set to auto-pilot.

Richie, standing a mere two or three steps away from the stairs, was the first to move, letting his body drop.

Eddie was the next one to work himself out of his stupor, rushing over to embrace Richie tightly. He felt Richie’s arms around his waist, but Richie was still too rigid to let himself fall completely.

“Is it true?” Ben asked, uncomfortable, but he managed to suppress the shakiness in his voice. Eddie pulled out of the hug a little, his arms still resting on Richie’s shoulder as Richie’s remained loosely around his waist. Eddie looked into Richie’s eyes, seeing the hurt in them, waiting for the answer. Fat tears filled Richie’s eyes as he looked at Eddie, then glancing over at Ben and Bev who had moved to sit next to the pair.

“I don’t know.” Richie whispered. “I really don’t fucking know.”

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diverse-hearts-moved · 3 years

Text

Tweleve people I’d like to know better. tagged by: @floralcrowncd

tagging: Anyone who wishes to do this! I’m not sure on who has yet ^^;

ONE ( ALIAS / NAME ): Mira, Myra or Mirakell. Usually Mira :3

TWO ( BIRTHDAY ): April 19th

THREE ( ZODIAC SIGN ): Aeries

FOUR ( HEIGHT ): 4′11 (I say 5ft to feel better thou T_T)

FIVE ( HOBBIES ): Writing, reading, playing games, making world maps, screaming over my novel that is in such a mess..and talking to friends /o/

SEVEN ( FAVOURITE BOOKS ): The Old Kingdom Series by Garth Nix, His Dark Materials by Philip Pullman

EIGHT ( LAST SONG LISTENED TO ): I’m Gonna Win - Rob Cantor

NINE ( LAST SHOW WATCHED ): BSD Wan

TEN ( INSPIRATION FOR MUSE ): *Stares at all her muses* WELL - they are manly characters that just jumped out at me and I was all, okay fine I’ll try and write you and not cry over how bad I portray you. My Yugioh muses were my first on tumblr which is why they’ve returned recently xD

ELEVEN ( MEANING BEHIND YOUR URL ): Many muses from many fandoms! Diversity /o/ and then I just liked the name. When I’m trying to think on urls I tend to toss them at people and see how it sounds to them lols

#ooc - Mira Speaking Now #//Thankies for the tag <3

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sporklift · 4 years

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Correctly Portraying the Losers

One thing I’ve noticed about the It fandom, is that a lot of the wank and discourse tends to revolve around how people interpret the characters. People seem to get bogged down in what’s the “right” way to interpret and portray the characters.

I just wanted to take a moment to say that absolutely any way you want to portray/interpret them, is fine. It’s all good, guys.

Do you take issue with how Ben’s body issues are portrayed and want to see him get confidence without the transformation? Go for it. Do you want him to have to deal with his feelings of self-loathing after he’s done so much externally to make himself feel better? Great!

Do you want to write a story where Maggie and Went are neglectful or cruel to Richie? Fine*. Do you prefer the book version of loving but emotionally distant Tozier parents? Wonderful! And you can write one story where it’s the former and one with the latter (I did).

Do you want to write a story where Myra takes the divorce really well and gets her ass in therapy? Sendmethatfic,pleasethanks. Do you want to write a story where the divorce results in plates being thrown against walls and Myra trying to get everything she can out of the alimony? Yeah, living for that drama!

I’m not gonna go through all the Losers, or all the interpretations I see getting eye-rolls, but this is what I mean:

The Author is dead. Canon isn’t sacred. We’re here screaming about the scary clown movie and the love between the friends there. And so, however you interpret the characters, and however you want them to be interpreted for one story, comic, song, cosplay, etc is fine.

And, in a fandom like It, where we’re often patchworking things between all three of the monstrously huge content sources we have, and where they all differ, it’s very possible for five people to have five different interpretations of the Losers. Hell, the book, the movie, and the mini-series all have different versions of the characters and the story. We’re transforming the text. We’re adapting the charactes.

Some people write fic with the source material open, rereading pages or watching scenes over and over again. Some people like the characters or ideas and just want to take it someplace new, someplace they love and don’t bother looking back at canon. And that’s all chill. That’s all good.

I don’t know if anyone needs to hear this. But, I know I would’ve before I became a bitter fandom wine-aunt: Everyone has things they jive with and things they don’t in fandom. Just because someone doesn’t like something doesn’t mean it’s bad or inherently wrong. Someone else likes the interpretation you like. Just find them and have fun in your sandbox. Don’t let anyone tell you how to make your sandcastle.

*tbh if the 2017 film had shown Maggie and Went I have to believe that they would’ve been kinda bad, given how Andy seems to interpret Richie’s home life and that the 2017 film removes any and all sympathetic portrayals of adult.

#fandom wank #it (2017)#it (muschietti)#it chapter 2 #talkin fic #fandom thoughts #sporks for ts #oops i had an opinion #it 2017 #it fandom

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capinejghafa · 1 year

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Scream 6 is a fun time. Idc what anyone else says, Sam deserves a many hugs and a nap.

#finished my rewatch!#myra watches scream series #why are people so mad about fun k*lls lol #you all are boring #wish one of the legacy characters had d*ed tho... they should of d*ed lol #the core four are my fave final people #random

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femaledarkiplier · 5 years

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7. Having to Leave

I spend the next few days trying to figure out a way to leave her while also making her not want to come with me. This is going to be so hard for me to do because I don’t want to hurt her, but I know I do not have a choice. If I am to truly make her not want to come with me, I’m going to have to get mean. I’m going to have to be everything I hate everything Mark has said I am. I can only pray that I don’t hurt to too much.

I began to take note of things I could use as a reason for me leaving. I decided to go with things about her ADHD. These things she couldn’t really control, but if I was going to be manipulative and mean that was my best bet. I hated the idea, but I have no choice.

A few days later I began to get a bit distant from her. She asked me what was wrong and I began laying her faults down. I began to get manipulative and mean. She was completely crushed and I was too. I walked out with my stuff before I was able to change my mind and start crying. I was a monster to her. The things I said I didn’t even mean. I hope I can move back in with Will. Mark didn’t even seem to miss me or even know I was gone. That saddened me a bit knowing he probably didn’t care what happened to me. As I approached our building in my suit, I sighed and text Will that I was here. He told me there was a meeting and to just come in. As I put my bags in Will’s car, sighed again knowing I probably ruined my relationship with one of the few people who cared so much about me. It had been months since I left. I hoped they would be happy I came back, but I knew some wouldn’t be.

I braced myself not wanting to show any sadness as I walked in and made my way down a few flights of stairs. Suddenly, I was bland sided by a hit to my face and was sent tumbling down the stairs. I heard someone say as I fell “Why don’t you go back where you belong freak?!” I instinctively reached out and grabbed the railing jerking my back and shoulder very roughly as I stopped myself from falling. It hurt my back so much that I could barely stand, but I shrugged it off and made my way down the rest of the stairs. I walked in the door while everyone was talking and they all went silent when I walked in and sat down. Will was up there with another brilliant plan and I watched him proudly show it off. After about a half an hour, my back started to kill me as well as my eye started to throb. My emotions started betray me as everything was getting worse both my physical pain and emotional pain. Will seemed to notice and stopped talking and looked in my direction as well as everyone else.

“You okeeeeey?” Will asked me in his drawn out speech.

“I…I have to go.” I managed to choke out. My back was hurting me so much I was almost at the point of tears. I stood up visibly wincing much to my dismay and slowly made my way out of the door. I only got about a good ten feet down the hall when physically couldn’t make myself go any farther and collapsed against the wall in a crying mess. I placed my head in my hands and held back most of sobs that were a mixture of the regret I had and the pain my body was going through. First day back and already I have a black eye and my back is screaming at me. I should’ve just stayed with Myra. It wasn’t a minute later when Google came walking out and rushed to me when saw me. I just looked him my eyes filled with tears.

“Will told me to go out and check on you. My scans indicate you’re in a lot of pain. Can you get up?” Google asked me. I just shook my head as I sobbed harder having an emotional breakdown right in front of him. He seemed to just nod and wrapped his arms around me one of his fingers sliding into the back belt loop of my pants the other arm wrapped around my shoulders as he hoisted me up to help me stand. I clung to him for support as he slowly helped me walk over to the lounge area and help me lie down on the couch. I held myself as I cried more. Google nodded his head and left. It wasn’t unusual for any of them to see me in pain from my back. I would just lie and say I was stiff from sitting or something else like that, but I was in way more pain than usual and no sooner than Google nod then he was gone. I tried to calm my breathing, but every breath was misery. I heard a lot of footsteps start down the hall some were faster than other, but they all seemed to be heading my direction. I sighed and covered my face with my hands taking in shaky breath. I felt a hand on me and removed my hands to see Will.

“What haaaappeeeen?” Will drawled skipping a few syllables.

“I fell.” I half lied.

“Will, my scanners indicated two injuries. Look under his hair.” Google said and Will gently lifted my bangs to revel my eye looking purple and swelling shut. Will gasped.

“You want an I pack?” Will said his speech skipping a few syllables. I nodded and he got one from the freezer and gave it to me. I put it on my eye sniffing. After about five minutes I took the ice pack off and set it on the coffee table in front of me. Just as I did Dr. Iplier came running in holding something. He knelt down beside the couch and placed a hand on my shoulder.

“Can you sit up for me and lean forward against me?” He asked. I nodded and winced when I sat up leaning against him for support while he ran his hands down my back. After a good fifteen minutes, Iplier stopped.

“Looks like he really jerked his backed. Whoa! It’s messed up. I didn’t know you had a bad back. Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked.

“I didn’t want to tell you.” I said.

“Well, I guess he would have.” Iplier muttered. “Stay put I have something for you.” He said in a normal voice. What was that about?

“I’ll let him lean on me until you get back. You’re going to look at his eye right?” Bim said. Bim being nice to me? Something was up. Bim replaced Iplier and I leaned against him. I closed my eyes.

“Yes.” Iplier said as he hurried off. I stayed still my hands loosely holding the back of Bim’s jacket. Something was defiantly up. None if these people around me right now have been nice to me except Host who tolerates me and Will who is always nice and Iplier when he has to be. I laid there while Bim tried to ease my pain by rubbing my back. I made small pathetic whimpers as he did.

Iplier came running back with a back brace one with sturdy fabric for the back of it and a series of pules to support the back of the person wearing to as much as they needed. He came up to the couch. “Can you stand up?” he asked. I nodded my head and slowly got to my feet using Bim’s shoulders for leverage. I stood there as Ipler took off my jacket and tie, and started undoing the buttons on my shirt when I grabbed a hold of his hand and lust looked at him. He seemed to understand as he’s seen me shirtless in the past and knows how uncomfortable I am to have my shirt off due to the scar in the middle of my chest.

“I know. I have to.” Iplier said and just nodded my head. I sighed as the shirt came off and I was completely shirtless.

“So it’s true.” Silver said.

“What you mean?” I asked.

“Your backstory.” Silver said.

“What?” I asked.

“We’ll show you after this. We’ll need to use you Google.” Will said and Google nodded his head. I knew something was wrong.

“Can you turn around” Iplier asked.

“I can.” I said. It hurt to turn around, but I managed. Iplier opened the brace and slipped it around my waist and hooked it tightly around my front making sure my sides were covered. It felt weird and stiff, but it slowly started to help me the pain not going away completely, but turned to a smell dull ach that I could tolerate. It would restrict my movements a bit, but it felt like heaven to me. I let out an audible gasp at how good it felt.

“You need me to adjust anything? I might need to as your back swells because it will due to being pulled.” Iplier asked helping me to put back on my shirt, tie, and jacket.

“It’s wonderful.” I said laying down on the couch again.

“Let me know ok? You almost pulled your back out. Now, let’s see that eye.” Ipler said and looked under my bangs. My eye was purple and really swollen now. Iplier gently felt around the eye and felt my cheek bone. “Nothing’s broken or cracked. How on Earth did this happen?” He asked.

“I fell.” I half lied.

“Dark, a black eye wouldn’t be caused just by just falling. There’d be more signs on your face if you hit you face when you fell. Did someone hit you and make you fall down the stairs?” Iplier asked.

“Yes, but I couldn’t tell who. I was hit and falling before I even saw anyone.” I lied I knew exactly who hit me due to the fact that the voice had a southern accent. I just didn’t want to say anything, but just as looked around I saw Ed wasn’t there in the lounge area. He just incriminated himself by not being there. I see Will just nod knowing Ed is absent and Ed has been known to give me black eyes in the past.

“Alright.” Iplier said.

“I pulled up the videos for Dark to watch.” Google said as he knelt down near the couch so I could watch. It was four videos on Mark’s Youtube channel called “Who Killed Markiplier.” I hit play and when I was done, I was in shock. Mark had told something that was personal and that I told him not to talk about. He changed a lot of things and added things to make a story, but still I told him about my nightmares and memories I couldn’t explain in secret. So that’s why everyone has been nice. I’m like the cripple or the three legged dog now. I don’t want pity or sympathy. I want to be treated normally.

“I..I..I told him those things in private.” I said quietly ready to break down again,

“I know. I was shocked too.” Will said.

“So are you really two souls in one?” Google asked.

“No and don’t treat me like I’m something to pity. Yes I love you guys being nice and helpful, but don’t treat me like a cripple. Please. I just want you guys to a little nicer.” I said starting to cry again. Iplier sat a pill bottle on the table.

“They’re prescription strength pain relievers for your back and if you need a muscle relaxer for the very bad days you let me know because the next few days to be really bad and we’ll try to be a bit nicer. I’ve seen all the injuries you get when you come in at least. They don’t seem very fun.” Iplier said.

“Yeah. We can be nicer I guess.” Silver said. I nodded my head. I was so glad that people were going to treat me a bit better

“How abou we finish the meeting here?” Will said skipping another syllable in his speech. Everyone seemed to agree because this place was much softer than the chairs at the office. After a few more hours of meetings, Will helped me up and into his car. Once we got home, Will helped me in with the bag of cloth I had and I sat down on the couch with my head in my hands. I began to tear up again as Will sat beside me.

“I had to leave her Will. I had to leave hurt her and leave her. There was no way I was going to bring her with me none of the other Egos would be ok with that.” I said my voice breaking slightly.

“You know I wouldn’t haaaaaaaave minnnnnd.” Will slurred out.

“I know you wouldn’t have. I made a mistake and I can’t reverse it.” I said shaking my head.

“Youuuuu can alwayssssss go back to heeeeeeer in a feeeeew weeeeks” Will drawled out.

“I guess you’re right. I can explain the whole thing even though I acted like a total monster.” I started crying near the end. I had acted just how Mark had wanted me to be. I got up and went to the spare bedroom and changed my cloths to a sweat pant outfit and took of the brace for a while. Will and I cooked our supper and then I practically sobbed as Will said he would let me cuddle with him tonight. As I curled up beside him to sleep, knew I messed up big time with Myra.

That night, I had the nightmare I always have. I’m falling and I can’t wake up no matter how much I try I can’t wake up until I hit the ground and die. I woke up screaming. As I sat up with quite a bit of pain, I held my head trying to slow my frantic breathing. Will was rubbing my back as I started to tear up. I didn’t have that nightmare for months. Why now? I looked at the clock and it read about 9 in the morning time to get up anyway. I tried to get up, but was met with lightning bolt pain all up and down my back. I cried out collapsing back down onto the bed. Will came rushing to help me stand and gave me the back brace. I slipped it on and sat back down for a bit. Once the pain had diminished, I went over to my phone to check Myra’s channel. There was a video up and so I watched it with Will.

“Sheeee’s good. Is sheee theee one you talked abou?” Will asked.

“Yes she seems ok. Thank goodness. At least it looks like she’s ok.” I said sighing.

“Yeah. Sheeee seems nice an sweeeet. Sheee’ll underrrrstan.” Will said.

“I really hope so.” I said closing out of YouTube on my phone and getting up. I went to living room and laid back down on the couch. I started tearing up again. My eye felt like it had a heartbeat.

“What’s wrong?” Will asked.

“I just hurt.” I said my voice cracking a bit at the end.

“You want an i pack?” Will asked.

“Yes please.” I said back letting the tears softly fall now. Will went into the kitchen and came back with an ice pack. I pressed it against my eye and sighed sniffing.

“It was Ed wasn’t it?” Will asked.

“Yes.” I said back. I began to tear up more.

“What’s wrong?” Will asked.

“He called me a freak.” I said.

“Heee called you a wha?” Will asked.

“He said ‘Why don’t you go back where you belong, freak.’” I said quoted word for word what Ed had said.

“Where you belong?!” Will asked.

“Yeah. Even if I knew where back was, I wouldn’t know how to get there.” I said.

“I know Dark. Ed’s just beenin an ass. Probably reeeelated to the damn thins too.” Will said. That got a laugh out of me. Will then let me rest. The next few weeks were a mixture of pain and sorrow as my body healed as much as it could. Once I was healed, although my eye was sill back, but at least it wasn’t swollen shut, Will called a meeting. This is going to be good Not. It’s going to be mess. And possibly a blood bath if Will gets Ed alone.

#Sorry this took so long #WKM Reference #7th chapter

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