#turns out it’s Eddie the kid she used to play with every summer when visiting

[eddies-house]

something something an au where reader sees Eddie and it’s instantly lover playing in the background something something like that moment in the summer I turned pretty where she sees Conrad in the first episode

[carolmunson]

you get me closer to god | kas!eddie (dark)

entry for my fall frenzy requests. this request comes in from @edsforehead: 'something with kas!eddie in a graveyard.'

a/n: y'all, i don't know. i kind of snapped with this one. sort of canon compliant. inspired by a post that i saw that said that after vampires feed they have an insatiable desire to breed afterwards. steve also makes an appearance cause i love him.

tw: 18+ MDNI, dub-con, dub-con, dub-con (reader does get into it). use of hypnosis, coercion. blood play, blood drinking, biting. very obvious power dynamics at play here. death of minor character mentioned. p in v smut, rough and sensual. oral (f-recieving), monster-type-fucking. mild chasing trope. some religious elements if you squint??? anyway i listened to closer by nine inch nails on a loop for this if you wanna know the general vibe. let me know if there is anything i missed and need to put on here!

October 31st, 1998

Your niece had a better haul than you ever did at this age, it seemed like every house on the fancy side of Hawkins was giving out full size candy bars. No one ever gave you full size candy bars. The Harrington's had outdone themselves this year, hoards of kids picking out wrapped caramel apples and passing out spiked cider to the parents. Humming and smiling while the adults hugged their parkas to their chests, kids running up and down the stairs of the cul de sac of Hawkins Mansions. Decorated to the nines -- you were happy that most of the street would tire her and all of her friends out. "Auntie!" she calls out, hurrying over to you while her pink and purple puffer coat swishes with her. Alycia glitters against the lights of the houses in the dark of the night, the red sequins on her leotard making her easy to find. Your sister-in-law made her a headband fitted with red horns with a pointed tail sewn into the back of the red tu-tu from her Spring recital to match. A Dancing Devil she called it -- for newly six, she was a pretty creative little bug.

"Auntie look," she yells, running into your legs. The spiked cider sloshes in your cup that you hold high over her head so it doesn't spill onto her. She holds up a decorated caramel apple covered in eyeballs made out of sugar.

"Gross, Leesh," you giggle, "It's got eyeballs all over it!"

"They're fake eyeballs, Auntie," she explains like you're stupid, "They're not real eyeballs."

"Oh, thank you for telling me. I didn't know," you giggle, catching Steve watching the two of you chat. Your cheeks burn, that crush from when you were fourteen and he spent the summer working at the mall never fully fading. He's married with four kids now so you should probably get over it. "How're things?" he asks from the curb, coming over to sneak Alycia a couple of Reese's cups. "They're good," you shake your head with a shrug, "They're fine. Out here with the rugrat while her mom's at work." "How's the family, your mom?" he presses, arms crossing over his broad chest that stretch the sleeves of his tan workwear jacket.

"She's doin' okay," you smile tightly, "Always a little hard for her this time of year."

"Five years now, isn't it?"

"To the day," you say with a lilt, "Gonna go visit him after I drop her with her grandparents. My dad'll be so thrilled to steal half her stash."

Your laugh is a little hollow when he squeezes your shoulder comfortingly, he slips a candy bar into your hand, too before saying his goodbyes -- set of twins running around his ankles.

Hawkin's bravest fireman somehow off duty on a night like this turns before you take your niece's hand to leave, "Be careful out there at night. You know it's not always safe."

"You don't believe in all those rumors, do you Harrington?" you laugh.

"Don't have to believe them or not," he says seriously, pushing his wire rims up his nose, "I know they're not rumors."

"Happy Halloween, Steve," you say dully, "Goodnight." You both wave, Alycia's little hand in yours while she rattles off a million words a minute about the skeloton outside of the Sinclair house. The moon glows down over the street, dark clouds slicing it like a broken plate.

You rarely visit your brother on the day of, especially since there's always idiot teenagers running around the place. Not exactly easy to mourn when some loser in a Scream mask keeps trying to scare you.

It was quiet, your Docs crunching on mid-fall frosty grass -- some of it already half dead with the season. Commotion from the town in the distance had dulled into mostly nothing now that the kids had turned in for the night. Families turning their porch lights out, settling in for scary movies and sugar highs.

You squeeze the bouquet of baby's breath and eucalyptus a little hard in your hands when you walk through the tombstones. The low lamps along the walk way casting the grass and asphalt in a looming orangey glow -- not offering much light beyond their posts. The moon does the work, still looking shattered amongst the thin gray clouds sliding through the sky.

You hear some giggling, the rustle of leaves, the snap of twigs. Always an outlier of kids doing spells or a Ouija board out here this time of year -- old Chief Hopper coming down to make them scatter and take their weed. You walk off the path when you get a decent way in, crossing away from where the cemetary mostly turns to forest. Four 'Happy Birthday To Yous' into the brush and then a left, two head stones, then a right -- it's the third headstone on the fourth row. No light to shine down on you this time, just whatever's left in the sky. You take your big yellow scarf off from around your neck to lay over the grave, giving yourself a place to sit so your spandex covered thighs didn't have to touch the grass. Your mom would kill you if you got grass stains on the red trench she let you borrow -- a makeshift Carmen Sandiego costume if anyone asked.

You sit, laying the bouquet right at the granite edge, tracing his name before letting your hand drop. You don't say anything for a while, letting the cool wet air run over you in waves. You wonder if the wind blowing is him saying hey.

A few cemetery patrons come by, pay their respects to their loved ones and leave. Some superstitious, some religious. They fade out after a while. The loneliness is comforting, just you and your brother hanging out together like before. Despite being six years apart, it felt like you both always had some weird wonder twin telepathy. He was never really one for a lot of words.

"Didn't that guy tell you not to come around here so late?"

You jump at the sound of an unfamiliar voice, turning around to see an even more unfamiliar person. Wild curly waves messy around his face, cut in 80s shag perfection. His face chiseled, jawline pronounced with soft stubble, soaked in fake blood. It trails down his neck and stains the white of the baseball tee underneath a leather jacket; fitted over top with a battle vest that rivaled the metal heads of the 70s.

"Who're you, huh? You following me?" you ask. You swallow nervously, finding solace in seeing a few other cemetary visitors mosying around. The faint giggle of more mischeif causing teenagers in the distance.

"Sorry," he laughs, a warm laugh that meets his eyes, "Didn't mean to scare you. I um, I saw you over by the cul de sac, overheard him say somethin' to you. I was with my little cousin -- dressed like a mermaid, I don't know if you remember."

You think back to Leesh's pal of trick-or-treaters, scanning them in your head to recall a little girl with big brown eyes and a makeshit Ariel costume on under her jean jacket -- covered in patches much like his.

"Yeah," you smile, "I remember. But that didn't answer my question -- are you following me?"

"Nah," he grins, shaking his head, "I'm visiting someone -- this was just a happy accident."

"Oh," you respond quietly, "Who're you visiting if you don't mind me asking."

"My mom," he shrugs, scrunching his nose, "Halloween was her favorite holiday so I always try to come say hi."

"Oh, I'm sorry," you offer in condolences, "Did you um -- did you grow up here? I feel like I'd remember you."

"Nope," he sighs, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans while his wallet chain jingles next to his thigh, "Grew up with my uncle."

"Oh, nice," you nod, "Well um --"

"Who're you visiting?" he interrupts, sitting on the gravestone next to your brother's; hardware tinkling prettily as he does.

"Pete," you say, hand out to gesture towards the shiny granite in front of you, "My brother."

"Nice to meet you, Pete," he turns his head, curly hair flouncing over his shoulder, "Pleasure."

You laugh, he laughs with you -- you have to laugh about it or else you'd have to deal with the alternative. You're pretty sure you're all cried out about your brother now.

"What happened, if you don't mind me asking?"

"He worked construction," you shrug, "Took an overnight shift five years ago by the quarry, an' it was Halloween so he was workin' by himself -- no one to spot his safety gear. Must've fallen off the rigs or something and since it rained a lot that year the quarry was basically a lake at that point, hit his head and drowned. His body was completely banged up and waterlogged, they could only ID him from his pass in his pocket."

"Shit," he nods, "That's -- that's fuckin' awful. I'm sorry."

You shrug, "Bitch of living, I guess."

"Hm," he nods, "I wouldn't know."

"What do you mean?" you ask with a cocked head, eyes lingering on him while his linger on you. "Don't worry about it," he smirks, the kind that makes your heart flutter; cheeks getting hot at the sound of his voice. "You know something," you start, "With this whole get up -- and you're not from here so you might not know -- you look just like --"

"Eddie Munson?" he asks, with raised brows, "Yeah, my aunt's been telling me that forever. That's why I sorta dressed up like him for Halloween."

"That's dangerous around Hawkins, especially this time of year," you warn him, standing up from your spot and picking up your scarf. You shake it out to get some of the grass of the underside. You hardly notice the way his eyes trail from your shoes over your calves to your thighs.

"Some people say that he went right to hell after that earthquake since he killed that girl," you explain, shrugging the trench off some to fit the scarf on under it, "And now he's a demon that haunts Hawkins and terrorizes the town."

You both laugh, though his drops to a low and guttural hum. Nearly a growl. You lift your head to see him just a foot in front of you now, and you can really look. You can really see him. The paleness in his skin, tendrilled navy veins raising through it as he leans close to you.

At this distance it's clear that the hollowness in his eyes isn't makeup, but the sparkling brown is sunken into his skull. His brows darkened and determined while he looks at you.

At this distance, it's clear that the blood on his jaw is real.

"They're close," he says with a sly smile, "Really should've listened to Harrington, sweetheart."

You swallow hard, icy sweat in a film on your body while he takes a step forward.

"Those rumors are true."

The icy air shreds your throat as you run, heaving it in and out in gasps. Your calves scream, thighs aching while you sprint through the brush of the forest; trench and scarf long forgotton somehwere amongst the trees. You try to ignore the way twigs and branches swipe at your face, slicing you and scratching you with unforgiving whips. You let out a cry while you speed, leaping over roots and piles of leaves all while trying to listen with peak percision. Is he close? Is he getting closer? Can he see you?

You stop behind a log near a dip in the earth, rocks above it. Climbing in you heave, trying to catch your breath -- you aren't really made for this. You don't know how girls in the movies can run that long without needing a break.

With a deep inhale in, you hold, using the quiet to try and hear him but there is nothing to be heard. No rustling, no creaks in the wood or in the wind.

You catch your breath, slowly creeping out of your hiding space while the darkness hones -- trees blocking out some of the moonlight. You take a step and then another, trying to make as little noise as possible.

Your efforts are of no use though -- you stomach turns at the sound. The flap of wings, leathery wings -- big. A shaky breath in gives you the courage to turn your eyes up. On one of the taller branches above you he sits, pale and domineering, "Hi, sweetheart."

You bolt again, depserate and sobbing while the cold air is no longer a hello from your brother but mother nature's cruel bite on your wet cheeks. You can barely take in breaths without pain in your throat and chest, turning left and right and left again to lose him but from above he can predict your every move.

When you hear silence again you take another turn, a mausoleum broken down a short distance away. You crawl your way in, wet earth and cement hitting your nose while you gasp and heave for the second time. You listen for the wings for moment, a few moments -- a calm washing over your back when you're sure he's gone.

You take a step back further into the darkness to be sure you're unseen. Deep breath in through your nose and out through your mouth. One, twice, three times.

Another step back and you bump into a pillar making you jump, a screech wrenching from you.

Not a pillar no, not by the way a set of claw bites into your shoulder.

"Would've been a good hiding spot if it wasn't for me finding it first, right?" he quips, "Bummer." "Y-you can't d-do this," you cry, "The r-rumors are true they'll -- they'll look for me! Steve knows about you!"

"Oh, babe, that's so cute," he muses with a giggle, "Why do you think I'm still here, huh? Steve's just like me, he's bitten too."

"B-but--"

"Why do you think he believes in all those rumors, huh baby?" he asks with a lilt, "Cause he's one of 'em. Well -- not all the way, I guess. Not like me."

"He blows my cover he blows his whole operation," he grins, sharp teeth bearing themselves at you, "Why d'you think he only works night shifts?"

"I -- don't -- I don't," you sputter, "Pl-please d-don't bite me, d-don't eat me I -- I'll do whatever."

"You're too funny," he says in your ear, deep and grizzly while you're rooted to the spot under his clutch, "I already ate, sweet girl. But you'll make a fine dessert."

You don't know how you get there but it's not like home -- it is but it isn't -- dark and deadly; covered in slithering vines. You're too petrified to ask; but whatever this place was, despite the spores in the air and the rubble from the walls -- it was much nicer than the trailer he grew up in.

"Shh, shh, shh," he coos, claws deep in your shoulder while he wrenches you to a bed covered in plush linens -- satin and full. In the blur around you it could almost be a movie set; the booms of red lightening, dripping pillar candles in heaps around the room.

You whimper at first when his claws release, hot blood oozing against your sweater. The pain pulses like a dull thud, spit flooding your mouth while you move to your side to wretch but he catches you by the root of your hair. You wail in fear, smelling the decay in his breath, the sweet subtle rot of your surroundings.

"It's not polite to cause a scene in a stranger's home, right princess?" he asks with a soft lilt. He holds your gaze, warmth spreading over you when he smirks again -- and despite your fear, you can't look away. You aren't even sure if you want to look away.

Your body goes slack on the comforter, melting into itself like a dropped marionnette. "Very good," he purrs. Hazy, you feel his hands on you -- losing their warmth while they sneak under the hem of your sweater. The pads of his fingers are soft in comparison to the tips of his nails, grazing your stomach and sternum before reaching up to cup your breasts. He lets out a shallow breath, squeezing the delicate flesh softly in his palms -- so gentle despite his rough demeanor.

His thumbs graze your nipples in slow circles earning him a mewl from your dry throat.

"So easy," he giggles in a whisper. You nearly pout when his hands slide down and away from you; beginning the unhurried removal of your clothing. He moves glacially, eyes remaining on yours, wraiths of whispers in a lanuage you don't understand fluttering in the air around you -- in one ear and out the other. Part of you wants to scream and thrash while he slides off your spandex, rips the seams of your panties, destroys your socks.

His clawed hands shred your sweater, snap your bra at the straps until all your clothes are left in a heap on the dusty floorboards by a forgotten desk. He crawls over you like a predator, undressed himself now: some how bigger, more hulking than before. His shoulders are broad, muscles flexing while skin so white it's nearly blue stretches over it. Whatever is down here has completely infected him, you can see it in the color of the veins beneath his skin, the slight red in his pupils, the dark blue hues under his eyes.

His wings lift high around him in an arched half circle, tips appearing behind him like a hybrid of horns and halo at once.

"Could smell you from here," he leers, "since last night. Christ, fucking drooling over you like a kid."

You whimper again, body jolting in pain when his nails pierce your thighs when he parts them. Fresh ichor spilling from the wounds in deep sanguine and he doesn't seem to care about the mess he's making while it drips onto the sheets. His cavalier manuevering comes off as though he likes to play with his food before he eats it.

"And I don't know what it is, angel, how my senses find the right ones," he rasps while he leans forward to your blood soaked shoulder; serpent tongue slipping out to lave over it, "But you really called to me this year; think you might be the one."

"The o-one wh-what?" you sniffle. His tongue slides over the lacerations on your shoulder again, sucking slightly from the new wounds. He lets out a groan, using free hand to rest on the side of your rib cage for support.

He deatches from the well he drinks from, tip of his nose running over your decollatage and up your neck. In inhales over your jugular, pressing a wet kiss under your jaw before getting to your ear.

"The one I mate with, sweetheart," he breathes, "The one I breed."

Breed? You heart sinks like a stone into your belly, body tensing in a freeze while you think of what to do. How to get out of here.

"Wait," you gasp, arms coming up to push at his chest and push him away, "No, please, wait -- you can't."

You push and push but he's a stone pillar, he barely moves, his muscles barely push inward at your assault. He tuts, the click of his tongue between his teeth almost a chitter. He noses your cheek before looming over you, tips of your noses brushing. He catches your gaze again, the whispers start while the air blows in through the broken window. Obedire domino tuo, obedire domino tuo, obedire domino tuo. His lips aren't moving but you can hear his low voice in your ears, barely there, swirling around in your subconcious while the wind whispers with it. Another flash of red lightning illuminates him in a streak, the rumble of thunder vibrating your belly and chest. His hand floats up from your rib cage while you settle, cupping your cheek to slide down to your jaw and over your neck. The touch is nearly comforting, dipping you back into a haze like before.

"You were saying?" he asks.

"Hm?" your brows pinch, his voice muffled and far away.

"That's what I thought," he says smugly, head dipping back down to your neck where his lips drag over your delicate skin. His breath leaves a patch of wet heat that lingers when he moves down over your chest, fangs peeking out behind his full lips when he drags them over the swell of your left breast.

A gentle gasp escapes you, eyes fluttering closed when the tip of his tongue teases your pert nipple, blowing cool air against it once soaked with his spit. He flicks against it again, alternating sides, presses kisses over them in clear ownership. The more he tasted of you, the more it belonged to him.

With each touch and tease of your tits the more you gasp and whine beneath him, he chuckles from his belly, moving down to your sternum.

"And I died a virgin, can you believe it?" he asks with a cocky lift to one of his brows, "Now all I gotta do is smile and girls like you 'll just fall into bed with me."

There's cotton in your ears, all you can do is nod slowly while blood still leaks from your shoulder and thighs. All you can feel is his mouth and hands travel further and further down. The wind howls and the low chant in the back of your head changes tune but in the same cadence; over and over again: vis, sentis, obedis. Vis, sentis, obedis. Vis, sentis, obedis.

He licks a stripe up the back of your thigh to catch a bead of blood before it reaches the mattress, savoring you. He feeds from the gouges he left behind for a moment before inching forward to the apex of your thighs. Eddie inhales your scent deeply, the earthly musk of you making his mouth water in a mix of metal and spit. His nose brushes against the untrimmed hair of your mound, ghosting himself over it drunk with attraction.

Your body heats up with mild embarrassment, flexing while your hips writhe slightly underhim. Almost as if he can hear your thoughts he kisses the crease of your thigh, "Nothing to be embarrassed about, baby. Girls don't let it grow like this anymore n' it's such a shame."

You want to speak up and explain it's just 'cause you haven't had the time but your tongue doesn't know how to move anymore. Too tired to speak, too caught up in how he feels, how he touches, how he takes what he wants. You relent again, body relaxing; pliant while he spreads you apart for him a desperate moan pulling from you when his tongue -- still soaked in your blood -- glides from the pool of slick at your opening all the way up to your clit.

You almost gag at the way your body betrays you, sending a spread of electricity over your nerves from your core to your finger tips. "More," you whisper, not even believing you're begging for him, "Please, more."

Eddie's smug in his response, smiling with his eyes while he looks up at you from between your legs, "And good manners? You spoil me, princess."

Your back arches in a soft curve when your hips push back into the mattress, pressing yourself into his waiting mouth. He groans again when your body drips for him, leaving a damp sheen on his cheeks and chin. It's not about your pleasure despite how much of it he's bringing you, but about your consumption. He's devouring you. Licking his plate clean from the outside in.

The moans he takes from you spur him on, getting you further and further away from the fight you put up before. Spilling over for him like a puddle while you writhe, a hand reaching out to rake through his hair. His own reaches up from aroud your thigh to hold you by the wrist tight to your side.

"Hands to yourself," he murmrs, soft lips wrapping around your swollen clit to suck expertly on the bud. You whimper, tugging at his hold but it only makes his grip more intense, pinning you there without much a fight. Not even enough to distract him from the task at hand.

When his tongue sinks back down into your soaking core you feel it, the heat pulsing through your belly while he lets the muscle dip and swirl in your wetness. Your thighs twitch and shake when his nose bumps your sensitive clit, his free hand coming up to gingerly rub circles over it in tandem.

"Oh my god," you whine, "Oh my god -- K-kas don' -- oh my god, ohmygod." He snickers, contining his movements, murmuring a quiet, "God's not here, baby."

Another roll over your hips sends you reeling, his tongue gliding in long strokes when finally the coil in your belly snaps. You fall apart beneath him, loud moans and high pitched squeals while he consumes you through it. Your body vibrates, thighs clamping down over his ears, blood from the slices in your flesh staining his hair and jaw.

He hums low when you settle, gasping for breath on your already dry and scratchy throat while you come down. 

Eddie rises slowly, shoulder blades and wings moving with him while he crawls up your body. Smooth and languid like a snake, his torso hovers above yours while he settles his hips between your thighs. You look up at him, his shape, the way his eyes have blown black, the newfound sharpness in his features. A creature, a monster in your wake — not the same person you saw at the cemetery. 

“Oh,” he coos when he sees your eyes glassy and rounded upon him, “So precious.” 

You're much weaker now, mind and body, the stings across your skin from the broken branches and his sharpened nails a pain you've become better accquainted with. You take another breath of calm, arms resting by your head with your palms up towards the ceiling. He takes the moment of surrender to hold them down against the bed. The pressure of his hips against yours keeps you pinned, but you barely fight -- maybe squirm, maybe whine. No thrashing, no screaming, the whispers echo through the wind again:

Vis, sentis, obedis. Vis, sentis, obedis.

"So, so, precious," he whispers while he leans forward, kisses pressed to one cheek and then the other slow and controlled. He inhales again when he dips down to your neck, piercing fangs dragging over the vein there. You feel the push and then the pain, the unbearable blinding pain of his teeth ripping through you. Through your skin, through the muscle, the pulse of his mouth while he holds himself there.

You cry out, nearly a scream while he holds himself there -- just enough to infect you, just enough to get the poison in. The pain reaches a blinding peak, bile growing up your throat, eyes filling with a white hot surge of anguish and then -- Nothing. Euphoria. An unknown lightness you hadn't felt before.

He releases, still holding tight to your wrists above your head when he raises up over you again.

"Open," he instructs, and in your hazy gaze you obey. Your tongue flattens against your chin without command.

"Very good, sweetheart," he praises, collecting the blood left on his lips and in his cheeks to spit it directly into your waiting mouth.

"You can close now," he grins, "And swallow."

He grunts, hips sliding against you so that you can feel his length between your legs; the girth alone sends a chill to the part of you that is screaming inside your head. How is it supposed to fit? How is he supposed to get this inside you? "Don't worry," he laughs, "It'll fit."

When your vision snaps up at him he laughs again, "I can hear you in there, princess. I can always hear you."

He dips down again, tip of his nose sliding over your cheek to your ear, "So be very careful what you think about."

He doesn't need his hands to guide the head of himself into your already needy center. It's a stretch, delicious but nearing painful. It's not something you've ever even dreamed of taking before; thick, large, inhuman.

Your legs lift on their own accord while he pushes in further, getting half way while you let out a choked sob.

"Aw, shh, shh, shh," he mocks, easing in more, "C'mon you can take it."

"You can --" his hips snap in hard for the rest of him, letting out a ragged grunt when the rest of him disappears inside you, "--take it."

You mouth hangs open in a desperate oval, face crumpling when you become so full of him -- all encompassing. A part of you now, buried deep within. He moves, dangerously slow and controlled; methodic in how he thrusts himself deeper and deeper inside. "Mmm, that's it," he growls, chest to chest with him while his hip grind at a deliberate pace. You feel his hot breath fan out over your lips, forehead pressed against yours. He's not hot, he's not cold, just skin against yours while it flashes with heat. You go from shaking to sweating with minutes in between.

When your hips roll to meet his thrusts you moan, the tip hitting you so deep in your core that stars burst behind your eyes. "There we go," he grins mischeviously, "S'at feel good, pet?"

"Ooh, yes," you hiss through gritted teeth, actively trying to bounce yourself againsth him now that your body has started accommodating his sheer size. He raises himself up on his hands like a cobra, snake like peering down at you while he meets the roll of your hips with an unforgiving thrust.

"Good," he oozes the word out like smoke, deliciosly deep seated in his belly when he thrusts hard again. He mumbles a quiet musing to himself that you can't hear -- too gone in the lightness in your body, in the way nothing hurts, in the way you're so full.

Can finally fuck you how I wanna.

He gets up, sitting back on his haunches while still inside you, pushing your legs up so your knees end up by your ears. With this leverage he sinks in deep. You don't even know how far in he is, just that he's in and he's there, he's everywehre, he's outside and in.

Eddie locks eyes with you, that same smirk from the cemetary that made your stomach flip dancing across his devilish features, "Tell me you like it."

Your mouth moves before your brain can hesitate, "I like it." "Tell me you need it," he demands, tone measured and sure.

"I need it," you say back, your voice coming out broken and weak, "Please, I need it."

He pulls back and punches forward, hard enough that you gasp at the impact. He grips you hard by the backs of your legs, thrusts starting slow and building at an unrelenting pace. His eyes are wild; boring down at you through from under furrowed and determined brows. If you had any mind left, you'd think that he hates you by the way he stares.

"Fuck," he snarls, leaning forward over you, one hand pressing down on the mattress next to your head, "Shit -- fuck, that's it. That's fuckin' -- shit, you're fuckin' mine." "Say you need me."

"I need you," you choke back without thinking, barely able to breathe at his speed. The coil tightens deep inside of you again, tears pouring down your cheeks in waves -- not even crying, just recieving. Absorbing him. Your body rocks like a boat on unsteady waves pinned beneath him, the only sounds are the whispers in your subconcious, his growls and sputters like an animal above you. The lewd slaps of skin against skin, the squelches of him pushing you to your limits.

He steadies himself over you, nose to nose again while he fucks you. Really fucks you. Impressed with himself, he lets out a breathy chuckle when you throw your head back -- eyes shutting tight with a pornographic scream.

"Oh GOD!" you cry out, "Oh my god."

His fingers and claws catch your chin with a firm shake, eyes snapping open to meet the knowing glare of his ruddy brown ones.

"Your god," he starts, panting into your mouth, "is right here in front of you."

You swallow, mouth falling agape again when you feel the bite of his nails on the fat of your cheeks. "Right here," you repeat, dazed and overwhelmed, "N'..n'fronname."

"Right here in front of you," he nods, leaning down to brush his nose against yours while his thrusts slow to a steady pace. It's then that his lips meet yours, the kiss searing with desire and claim when his tongue slides into your mouth. You can taste the metallic twang of your blood in his mouth, sighing into it while he guides the kiss. Breaking away and coming back in; rushed and heated each time while he feels himself get closer to his peak.

His forehead presses against yours, one hand finally releasing your wrist to hold your head in place over your hair. You keep eye contact with him, not even sure if you're blinking, if you even need to blink. You rasp breaths, mouth and throat dry and aching while you breathe into him. You're close, teetering on the edge while he pushes you up with his hips to rest your lower body on his knees and thighs.

"Come undone," he murmurs, "Let go for me."

The command ripples through you, bursting through your belly with a warm heat. You welcome it, eyes rolling, cries pouring from you in words you don't think you understand. He encourages you, offering you rough sweet nothings while you pray to him, beg for him, ache for him.

That's enough to send him over; seeing you completely at his mercy now. Obedient, trained, devoured.

He snares and snarls, growling while he comes deep inside of you. The hand on your head wraps painfully in your hair like it did before you started -- uncaring, brutal. The heat of his seed pools deep within you like the heart of your orgasm. Glazed over you groan, hips rolling up in one final cant to receive him fully. Your vision vingettes while he unsheathes from you; fluids leaking onto the sheets. You're empty and the room spins with a new blackness, you're fading. Fainting? Dying?

The fuzziness continues to darken arouns you, around him, until he's all that's left in the tunnel of your vision. "That's a good girl," he soothes smugly, "Very well done."

Your gaze and mind fade fully to a staticky black.

You wake, you’re not sure how much later. 

Still on the bed and still undressed but your arms feel tight – a tug reveals your current state. Bound to a post on the headboard by a triple handcuff knot, dense hemp rope keeping your arms above your head. 

You whine and struggle, coming to your senses now – no one knows where you are, you barely know where you are. An underworld – hell. Somewhere. 

“Don’t look so terrified, sweetheart,” his smooth honey voice is heard before he appears in the candle light again, “I’m right here.” 

“Wh-why am I –” you swallow thickly, coughing and sputtering with how dry your mouth and throat are now, “Why am I tied up?” 

He looks at you with faux concern, brows raising, “Oh honey, are you okay?” 

He reaches out, pushing your hair away from your face, “Don’t be stressed. Y’know something – I just realized, I never offered you anything to drink.” 

“My uncle always told me you should take a girl out to dinner before makin’ the van rock and look at me,” he gestures at his chest, tutting at himself, “Where are my manners, huh?” 

Your lip wobbles while he looms over you, “Are you thirsty?” 

You nod, he grins – cheshire like, fangs glinting in the light, “I thought you would be.” He gets up, lazy and confident in his walk across the room. His body looks like marble, chiseled with the running and hunting you realize he’s been doing for over a decade. Stronger than ever; ethereal in his post orgasm glow. 

He pulls his hair back while he walks, holding it up away from his neck while your eyes travel down his back where his wings have tucked in under the skin. You gag when you see them move above his blades, rippling beneath the tattoos he has there. He’s dressed in only shorts; silk – likely stolen to really own the whole vampire thing he has going on. 

You take in a shaky breath when he gets what he needs, dropping his hair back to his shoulders when he makes his way back to you. 

He holds the dagger coolly in his hand before gliding the tip down the center of his wrist. Blood blooms from the wound; he doesn’t even flinch. 

“Open, princess,” he murmurs. Your lips clamp shut, shaking your head no while fear takes over – rot in your chest. He catches your chin again, forcing you to look at him like before. 

“Open,” he repeats, slower. His voice reverberates like a gong between your ears. 

Your mouth opens on its own accord and the smell of his blood becomes the most alluring scent you’ve had pass your nose in years. You latch on to the laceration, swallowing and sucking deeply on the wound while his blood and body quench and feed you better than any meal you think you’ve ever had. You feel revived as you devour him, eyes fluttering closed while the fill feels never enough. 

“That’s it, keep goin’,” he encourages under his breath, “Won’t have to keep asking you to do things twice once this is all over with.” 

You break away to breathe, gasping like you’re coming up for air, drowning in him. 

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean you’ll be just like me, sweetheart,” he says, chuckling when you eagerly lean forward to drink him again, “After a night of some deeply insurmountable pain; and then nothing. Just mine. Undead and mine.” 

“But y–you said you were – I’m –” your brows knit in confusion, “You didn’t h-have to d-do this; whatever you um – whatever you bred me with will die if you do this.” 

“Oh, no, no,” he laughs evilly, “I didn’t breed you quite yet.” 

He pulls his arm away, wiping the blood from your chin with his thumb roughly. 

“Consider what we did a, uh…hmm,” he takes a second to think about it with a hum, shrugging cheekily, “A soul bonding experience.” 

“You’re disgusting,” you spit. 

“I’m delicious,” he corrects, smearing his blood from your chin to your cheek, “If you do say so yourself.” 

He gets up again, pulling the covers out from under you to tuck you in. The chill getting to you in a way it never gets to him; you might as well be warm while you turn into actualized death. 

“I can hear you, remember?” he asks, tapping your head, “You won’t be totally alone with me. There’s…shit there are plenty just like us.” 

“Like Steve,” you pipe up groggily. 

“More than just goodie two-shoes Harrington,” he groans, “God, do you ever shut up about him?”

You sniffle in response.

“I mean this place, this – dimension,” he says, “It’s more than just Hawkins, and there are so many more like us; even up there.” 

He points upwards with a sharp nailed finger, “All around.” 

“And now that you’ll be just like me,” he smiles, sitting on the edge of the bed next to you in the crook of you waist, “There’ll be all the time in the world to breed you.” 

Your vision blurs, either from tears or from another fade, you aren’t sure. You can feel a slow burn through your veins, a rush of blood. You whimper. 

“So it begins,” he smirks, running the tip of his finger over your nose bridge. 

“Oh!” he says, eyes bulging, “Before I forget, and before I lose you – because you’ll be such a pretty blank slate when you come to – I felt like I should be honest.” 

He gestures dramatically, a maniacal grin pushing his cheeks up to his eyes while they spark, “Again with my manners, it was so rude of me to introduce myself to Pete’s grave at the cemetery. We’ve met before! Can’t believe I had almost forgotten.” 

Ice in your body fights the burning in your veins, you gag, bile coming up to singe your throat. 

“And y’know, I didn’t mean to drop him in the quarry when I was done with him,” he says with a scrunch of his nose, like he accidentally wrote the wrong tip on a restaurant check, “Really, my mistake, but Christ did he hit every piece of limestone on the way down.” 

He lets out a hearty laugh while he remembers it, your brother's body bouncing off rocks and metal before slipping under the water. You swallow your sick only or it to rise back up with a vengeance, staining your skin red while it seeps out of the corner of your mouth. You tug on the ropes in retaliation, hot angry tears stinging your eyes. 

“All that fallin’ did a number on him – which is good because it really took the heat of anyone knowing it was me. I just wasn't as clean about it back then. Much better now though,” he nods, finishing with a superior and charming look like he just told a bedtime story. 

He leans forward close to your face while your vision pulses in fuzzy black, browning out while he looks down at you. 

“And I’ll tell you something, babe…” 

Fading, fading, fading.

“He tasted divine.”

masterlist | fall frenzy | ko-fi

[cranberrymoons]

i'll be home for christmas

prompt: no upside down au (@steddieholidaydrabbles) rated: t word count: 909 words tags: flirting, bartender eddie, college student steve

welcome to Day 9 of the fic advent calendar – bite-sized fics posting every day during the month of december. enjoy!

Nancy dumps him a few months after he moves away for school, and so he doesn’t come home that summer or the one after that, until a couple years have gone by and he ends up stuck back at his parents’ house during Christmas break. 

He hasn’t seen them in a while, but truth be told, he’d kind of rather just be back in South Bend hiding out in his dorm or maybe at the bar with Robin, the only other person from Hawkins who’d ended up at Notre Dame. He hadn’t even known her before they were there, and she’s a year below him, but – whatever. When you leave a small town, you sort of tend to find each other after a while.

She’s not there right now, though, so it’s not like it really even makes a difference. She’s off on some trip with her own parents, one that they take every other year, back to visit her mom’s old hippie friends in Berkeley, because Robin has the sort of parents who have old hippie friends back in Berkeley. Maybe Steve could just get adopted by them, and then he'd never have to come back here at all.

Anyway.

He’s here now. That’s the problem.

And of course he got into a fight with his dad on the first night back. Of course he did. I wasn't even over anything worthwhile, just – Whatever. It doesn’t even matter. He doesn’t even care, just. He really does hate his dad sometimes.

He clenches his jaw in rhythm to the song that’s playing from the tape deck in his room, turns his head on the pillow to squint at the glowing red alarm clock in the corner. 

8:50 PM

It’s barely even nighttime. He can’t just sit here like this, like he’s waiting for his parents to leave, because they’re not going to fucking leave, so maybe – maybe he should –

He catapults himself off the bed and reaches for his keys on the dresser, shoving them in his back pocket before he can overthink it. Down the stairs, slipping into his shoes by the door, shrugging into his coat. Calling over his shoulder that he’s going out, don’t wait up, and –

He doesn’t actually know where he’s going, but he gets in his car and starts driving. Just drives until he ends up parked in front of the Hideout, the run-down little dive bar on the complete opposite side of town. 

It’s open, and there are a few people hanging around out front, so he turns off the car and goes inside.

It’s dark in here, the ceiling low and the music kind of weird and more guitar-y than he’s used to, but it’s medium-crowded in a way that makes him feel like he can probably just grab a seat at the bar and blend in and not have to worry about anyone trying to talk to him about –

“Harrington?”

Fuck. 

He turns with a big fake smile on his face, prepared to deal with Tommy, who he hasn’t seen in at least a year, or maybe even Billy, who he hasn’t seen in about as long. Worst of all would be the Byers kid, the one he got dumped for, but Jonathan’s probably not bold enough to actually say anything to his face, but still. The last person he expects to find is –

“Munson?” 

Eddie gives a little jerk of his head and drops a dish towel over his shoulder. He braces his hands on the opposite side of the bar, arms spread wide, and Steve’s eyes flicker down, just for a beat, to the way the thin cords of muscle flex under his skin where it’s lined with a twisting pattern of black tattoos.

Eddie clears his throat, and Steve sucks in a breath, blinking back up to his face. Eddie raises his eyebrows. 

“What’ll it be?”

“Um. Just a – beer, whatever,” Steve says as he tugs his coat off and slides onto a stool. “You work here?”

“No, I’m just a really creative burglar,” Eddie says. He reaches for a glass and pulls the tap as he eyes Steve up and down. “Playing the long game. If I stand back here long enough, they’ll stop noticing me, and that’s when I strike.”

He sets down the drink and slides it across the bar, and Steve grins as he accepts it, letting out a surprised laugh. 

“Well now you’ve given it away,” he says, raising his eyebrows as he takes a sip. “Your plan is ruined.”

“You’re going to turn me in?” Eddie asks. He folds his arms over his chest and leans back against the countertop behind him, and Steve’s eyes drop down again like he can’t help it. “What if I cut you in? Ten percent?”

Steve feels a pleased little flush wash over him as he looks back up to Eddie’s face, shoulders relaxing as he takes another sip of his beer. Eddie’s smile is slow and a little sweet, and it makes something in Steve’s stomach do a weird little flip. He tears the corner off a bar napkin to distract his hands from fidgeting too much, and leans forward across the bar. He narrows his eyes.

“Twenty.”

Eddie’s smile grows. He lifts his chin. “Fifteen, and your next beer’s on me.”

Steve laughs, feeling a warm glow settle in his chest. “Sounds like a deal.”

[also on ao3]

[schrijverr]

Life Is Ours, We Live It Our Way 10

Chapter 10 out of 18

Genderqueer Stevie with platonic soulmates Robin and Eddie living their best queer life.

In this chapter, Stevie has a talk with Mike. Then he goes off to the city and has an insightful talk with Madame Tucker, before deciding to try and forget about life and try something new. Drag.

On AO3.

Ships: none

Warnings: none really

~~~~~~~~~~~

Princess Dingus

Stevie feels giddy about hosting DnD at his house. It has never been a possibility before since he didn’t want to risk exposing her friends to her parents, no matter how unlikely, but now their looming shadow has receded and he is hosting alongside Eddie.

Eddie is picking up Robin, Will and Dustin, while Stevie makes the rounds past the Sinclairs and Mike.

He and Lucas talk about how his training for cross country is going, while Erica rolls her eyes. When they get to the Wheeler house, Mike is already waiting outside, which isn’t that unusual, but he looks more annoyed than is standard.

After he’s slammed the car door shut, Stevie turns back and asks: “Are you okay there, Wheeler?”

“I’m fine,” Mike spits, obviously not fine. However, Stevie knows that sometimes ‘I’m fine’ is closer to ‘don’t push me’ or ‘I don’t want to talk about it,’ so she lets it go for the moment and decides to ask again later.

As the drives goes on and the Wheeler house disappears in the distance, Mike relaxes and gets pulled into the conversation, laughing with Lucas by the time they get home.

Stevie is the first one back and unlocks the door, letting the kids get settles around the couch like they did at Eddie’s place and giving them something to drink. Before long Eddie gets there too and it’s a bit of a commotion before they’re seated.

“Why is Robin here?” Mike asks. “She doesn’t even play.”

“Because it’s at my boyfriend’s house, dingus junior,” Robin sticks out her tongue. “I get to hang out here whenever I want.”

Robin always hangs around during DnD nights, because she likes being out of her own house. Her parents are judgmental and it’s stifling sometimes. Before now that’s never been an issue with any of the kids, but now Mike scowls: “I didn’t have El hanging around when we hosted at mine and Lucas didn���t bring Max every time.”

“That’s because you ignored Will and didn’t play DnD for that whole summer and after that it became a moot point, Wheeler,” Stevie tells him, not letting Mike push his foul mood on everyone else.

Mike looks chastised, but not giving up just yet. “I just think that it’s stupid that you have to hang around all the time.”

“Okay, something’s up with you, kid,” Eddie steps in, backing Stevie as he always does with the kids. “Now you get your shit together or I won’t start the game. If something’s bothering you, talk about it with someone, don’t take it out on others.”

“There’s nothing wrong,” Mike snaps, even if it comes across as a lie.

Stevie wonders what could be bothering the kid. He was already annoyed at his own house, so it must be something there, but he seemed okay when they got there only to snap at Robin’s presence, so what-

Oh. Of course. Nancy’s back in town as well as Jonathan, they’re set to come by and visit on new years, so he hasn’t spoken them yet, but he can imagine they’re wrapped up together now that they’re here. Based off Mike’s comments after thanksgiving, he’s not happy with that.

“Hey, Mike,” Stevie speaks up and Mike’s head whips around to him, confused by the switch to the soft tone and the use of his first name. “Walk with me for a sec.”

Reluctantly, Mike gets up and follows Stevie to the back porch. This one looks out over a little grass clearing, before it turns into forest. The view is truly stunning and Stevie feels lucky for managing to sign the house.

Mike crosses his arms and pouts, as he asks: “What?”

“I know you’re not my number one fan,” Stevie starts, which is an understatement – though he likes to think they’ve gotten closer and they’re at least somewhat friends. “But you can talk to me. If anyone knows what it’s like be ignored by Nancy for Jonathan, it’s me.”

The deer in headlight eyes she gets only confirm his suspicions, before Mike scowls: “I’m not upset because I’m getting ignored by Nancy. You’re projecting. I can’t believe you still have a thing for my sister when you have a girlfriend.”

“Ugh what is it with you shitheads? I don’t have a thing for Nance,” Stevie rolls her eyes. “All I’m saying is that you’re in the same scowl-y mood as you were after thanksgiving. You called it the Nancy-show, remember?”

Mike blushes and ducks his head. He frowns to his own shoes, looking much like the twelve year old Stevie first met in ‘83. Mike mutters: “It’s just stupid.”

“If it makes you upset, it’s not stupid. I won’t judge, promise,” Stevie tells him, which earns him a disbelieving look. “I’ll trade you something that made me upset for what’s making you upset. I think mine’s more idiotic.”

“Don’t doubt that,” Mike snarks, but he looks grateful about Stevie’s offer.

“Last week I nearly cried because we were out of milk,” Stevie says. She’d been home alone and with all the stress, she just wanted some milk in her coffee, but the universe couldn't grant her that and the little thing was enough of a push on top of everything else.

“That is pretty stupid,” Mike agrees.

“I know,” Stevie nods, because it was pretty stupid in hindsight. It hadn’t come out of nowhere, but it was small in the grand scheme and he wasn’t that torn up about it. “So what about you? What’s bothering you?”

“It’s stupid,” Mike begins, “because it’s not like me and Nancy have ever been the best of friends or something. We’re siblings, but not the closest. Of course I get that she would rather spend time with Jonathan than with me. And she’s in college doing all these new things and of course mom wants to know about that and talk about it. I don’t know, it would just be nice if she asked how I was doing and at least talked to me for a bit. I- I missed her.”

“That’s not stupid at all, Mike. You and Nancy have been through a lot and going from seeing her daily to once every few months is a lot,” Stevie says. “She probably hasn’t realized you felt that way, but I’m sure she’ll make time for you if you tell her.”

“I don’t wanna tell her,” Mike pouts, face stuck between petulant child and moody teenager.

“You don’t have to,” Stevie assures him. He knows this age is hard, especially for someone who’s as emotionally constipated as Mike. “I heard Will mention that he and El are going to skating with Jonathan on Sunday. Nancy will be free then. I’m sure if you suggest doing something together then, she’d love to.”

“Maybe,” Mike says, but Stevie can tell he’s considering it.

“Just think about it,” Stevie smiles, giving him a moment, before asking: “Are you good to go back in again?”

“Yeah,” Mike nods, still a bit in thought, but more settled than earlier.

“Good, because it’s cold out here,” Stevie jokes, shivering. She should have put on a jacket before going out.

Mike laughs at her pain and they go inside, where Mike actually apologizes for snapping. God, these kids are all growing as people and if Stevie doesn’t look out, he’ll get emotional. After that, they start the game, having fun as they always do.

When they’re done, Robin is draped over Stevie. Apparently she got lonely sitting at the small table with her book and bothering Stevie is her favorite pastime anyways.

Stevie doesn’t know when she fell asleep, but know she can use it. Robin doesn’t get nightmares that often, but her overactive brain keeps her awake from time to time. So, he shushes the kids and carefully twists so that he can cradle her in his arms. Then she carries her to their room and puts her in bed, kissing her forehead and leaving a note that they’re taking the kids home.

While she was away, Eddie herded the kids outside and Erica is waiting next to the passenger door, glaring at Lucas and Mike. She has won the shotgun, it seems, Stevie grins, unlocking the doors.

The drive back is peaceful. They say goodbye to the Sinclairs and Mike clambers to the front seat, growing silent as his house appears. So, Stevie slows down and asks: “You going to be okay, Wheeler?”

“Yeah, I think so. Jonathan will likely be there, but I don’t feel like hitting him anymore,” Mike says, surprising Stevie with the honesty.

“That’s good,” Stevie laughs. Then sobers up: “Anything else?”

“I’ve just been thinking about what you said about ignoring Will that summer,” Mike admits. “I hadn’t considered it, but now I feel like a bad friend.”

Stevie is again surprised by Mike’s words. He knows how torn up Will was that summer and with how he looks at Mike, it’s not exactly difficult to figure out why Mike’s indifference had especially hurt.

He never thought the two would talk about it, but his own mouth might become the push. If only she handles this well right now.

“Well, I’m not going to sit here and say it’s fine,” Stevie starts. “However, it’s not like I don’t get it either. Getting a girlfriend or boyfriend is always exciting, especially when it’s all new and you didn’t do it alone, Lucas also got distracted by Max, he was just lucky that Max was allowed out of the house. But it did hurt Will. Did he ever mention it to you?”

“No,” Mike shakes his head. “Spring break was a little weird, seeing him again, you know. I was a bit of a dick too, but I feel like we sort of made up again. He’s my best friend and I don’t want to loose him.”

“Did you ever tell that?” Stevie asks. “Because it might be good to tell him that you care about him and that you’re sorry about how that went.”

“Maybe, but then it’s also weird between us sometimes,” Mike shrugs, semi-hugging himself.

Stevie realizes this might be a conversation that needs more of her attention, so she pulls over at the end of the Wheeler’s street and asks: “Weird how?”

“I don’t know, it’s like he sometimes expects me to pick him over El,” Mike says. “And I know he’s my best friend and that we’ve known each other for years, but El is my girlfriend, you know. I love her. And she doesn’t have many people, I can’t just leave her on her own.”

“I thought El was settling in at school okay,” Stevie frowns, wondering if he missed something in the girl, if she is okay.

“She is,” Mike assures her, “but all the social aspects are still new and it doesn’t help that she’s associated with us. We’re the nerds, you know.”

By god does Stevie know. She hates it so much, but he knows. He’s been the guy that pushes people like Mike and Will around and at the end, he had to keep his head down not to be one of the people that got pushed around. He softly says: “I know.”

“And Will is also my friend and part of that group, but he can’t be my focus,” Mike says.

Something in the way he says it pings for Stevie, who frowns. The ‘can’t’ especially stands out to her. He might not be the brightest, but social clues are his strong suit. Cautiously, he asks: “Why can’t he be your focus?”

Mike looks at him like he’s insane and says: “Because I have a girlfriend?” like Stevie is the idiot between them.

“I know,” Stevie placates. “But that doesn’t mean, you can’t focus on your friends from time to time. It’s healthy to invest in other relations than your partner. You need friends. They make life better. You can’t make your partner your entire social circle. So, why can’t Will be your focus every once in a while?”

Next to him Mike falls quiet. He opens and closes his mouth a few times, before slouching in his seat. However, Stevie isn’t giving him the comfort of breaking the silence and waits patiently for Mike to say something.

Finally he does. It’s quiet, like he wishes Stevie won’t hear him. “It will make me sound like a horrible person.”

With what Stevie has gathered he knows exactly what kind of horrible person Mike is afraid of being and he mentally steels himself as she answers: “For tonight this car is judgment free. Just tell me what’s bothering you.”

“I think Will has a crush on me and it makes me feel weird,” Mike blurts out, before immediately defending himself. “I’m not homophobic or something, but I just can’t.”

Stevie notes he used ‘weird’ instead of ‘uncomfortable’ as he nods and thinks, not giving Mike an indication that he’s hurt by the words. Slowly he asks: “Why do you feel weird about it?”

“I don’t know,” Mike tells her, sounding anguished.

“Would you feel the same kind of weird if you thought Max had a crush on you?” Stevie asks.

“I’m not homophobic!” Mike exclaims.

“And I’m not saying that you are, I just want you to think about it,” Stevie soothes the boy. “Do you feel weird about it because Will is your friend? Because he’s a boy? Would you feel the same if you thought Lucas or Dustin had a crush on you? Just work through it for a moment. It’s okay. Take your time.”

Thankfully, Mike doesn’t argue with her for once. He frowns, still ducked into himself in the passenger seat of Stevie’s car.

The silence drags on, but Stevie doesn’t mind. Mike needs to work through this.

After what seems like an eternity Mike finally mutters: “I- I think it’s because I like him too, but I- I can’t. I have a girlfriend, I love her. I’m not- I’m not gay.”

“You know, I thought something very similar when I realized I was bisexual,” Stevie tells him kindly, looking intently to check if Mike is listening. “I can’t make decisions about your sexuality, but you can like Will and El, there’s nothing wrong with that Mike. You can do whatever you want and be whoever you want with whomever you want.”

He hasn’t thought of Brook’s words in the bar for a while, but they helped him in the stage Mike is in now, so he repeats them for the kid.

“I can?” Mike asks. “It’s not weird?”

“It’s not weird,” Stevie assures him. “There’s nothing wrong with you. You can’t help who you like.”

“But it feels wrong to like Will while I’m dating El,” Mike says, nearly tearing up. “It feels like I’m cheating on her or something, like I don’t love her.”

“Oh, Mike,” Stevie sighs at the boy’s turmoil, awkwardly hugging him over the console, though Mike doesn’t seem to mind the awkward angle, burying his face in Stevie’s neck as he started to cry.

Once Mike’s crying slows down, Stevie says: “It’s up to you how to deal with this and it’s not going to be easy. Feelings never are.”

“I don’t even know where to start,” Mike admits.

Stevie thinks for a second then says: “You have to contemplate if you want to grow over these feelings and move on or if you want to do something with them. And you have to let Will know you will always care about him. Even if you don’t try to pursue anything romantic with him, you can still make space for him in your life. Me and Robin haven’t dropped Eddie, right? You don’t have to leave either of them behind.”

The situation with him, Eddie and Robin is a bit different than this, but Mike doesn’t know. Besides, they have always left open space for romantic partners in their future. They won’t leave each other behind for romance. They’ll just mold around it.

“I guess,” Mike says, pulling back from Stevie’s arms and resolutely not meeting her eyes in that embarrassed teen way. Classic.

“You don’t have to decide right now, Mike,” Stevie assures him. “Just take your time and think about it. Or it’ll keep eating at you. I’ll be here for you if you need to talk again.”

“Thanks,” Mike replies.

“No problem,” Stevie smiles, driving the last bit to the Wheeler house and pulling into the driveway.

Nancy is at the door with a frown. “You guys are late.”

“Sorry, Nance,” Stevie says, not sounding all that sorry. “You know how Eddie can get lost in his theatrics. No need to worry. Hope you had a good Christmas.”

She looks between him and Mike, who is hiding that he was crying, while Stevie tries to convey not to ask with his eyes. She picks up on it, because she nods: “Alright. Uhm, I had a good Christmas. You too?”

���Yeah,” Stevie says, before calling out: “Bye, Wheeler. Bye, Nance,” and driving away.

When she gets back to house, Eddie is smoking on the front porch, calling out: “There you are! I was about to send out a search party. I thought you had the short route, what happened?”

“Child in crisis,” Stevie responds, Eddie is only partially joking about the search party. They all get uneasy when some runs late. Still, she can’t help but joke: “You look like a worried mother.”

“Oi, you’re the mother,” Eddie responds, but he’s laughing.

Eddie finishes his smoke and they do the dishes together, before waking Robin, so she can brush her teeth. Then they all climb into bed and fall asleep.

The next morning, Stevie tells Robin he’s going to the city today and she pouts about not being invited. He’s unsure what to tell her, but she must see something in his eyes, because she drops it and blows a raspberry at him and proclaims that she and Eddie will be having loads of fun without him.

Stevie rolls her eyes and pretends to withhold pancakes from her until she caves and promises that they’ll miss her loads.

Their goodbye is maybe a bit dramatic for one of them being gone for one day and night, but they don’t care. They haven’t been separated really since the summer and Stevie wonders how he’s going to sleep with everyone so far away.

The drive to the city seems much longer without Eddie and Robin there and he pathetically plays their music to make herself feel better.

She’s going Saturday, because the shops will still be open and indeed hunts for gifts for the better part of the afternoon, loading up his trunk with all sort of shit, careful with the nail bat that she meant to leave behind. So, it’s nearing 5:00 PM when he finally finds the address Madame Tucker gave him.

He worries a little as he knocks. They’ve called a lot since meeting her, but he’s only hung out with Madame Tucker once – twice if you want to count the show – can he invade her home like this, she wonders.

However, all her worries were for naught, when Madame Tucker throws open the door, it’s with a big smile and a hug as she exclaims: “Stevie, honey, it’s been so long! God, your hair had gotten so long. How pretty!”

“Hey,” she can feel the grin pulling over her face as she hugs back. “How are you?”

“I’m perfect, doll,” Madame Tucker tells him. “Here, come in and make yourself comfortable. I have a show tonight if you want to join me. It’ll be a bit chaotic tonight, but I have the time before dinner. I’m not a hero in the kitchen, I have to warn you.”

“That’s okay, I can cook if you don’t mind? I like it,” Stevie offers. It’s true and she want to be a good guests.

“If you’re sure?” Madame Tucker asks and he nods. “Alright then, I have the stuff for pasta in the fridge, make yourself at home.”

And Stevie does. He looks around the small apartment. It has a kitchen/living room mix like his own house, but two doors. One bedroom and one bathroom. However, the small space is homey with a rainbow flag hanging over the couch and picture everywhere.

They end up on the couch talking about all sorts of things. They regularly kept up on the phone of course, but there’s something different about talking in person.

Madame Tucker is telling Stevie all about her Christmas with Brian when he moves to the kitchen preparing them food as he listens. It’s really cute how much Brian cares for her, he thinks. She looks absolutely smitten.

It’s not until they’re seated at the bar that functions as a dining table in the small apartment that Madame Tucker turns serious and asks: “So, honey, what did you want to talk about?”

God, these past few days have been nothing but serious talks, first Eddie, then Mike and now Madame Tucker. Though, Stevie knows this is good for her and she should do this. So, he sighs and says: “You have to promise not to judge.”

“I won’t, honey, you know I won’t,” Madame Tucker assures him. “I promise.”

“Do you know anything about BDSM?” Stevie rips the band aid off, hoping the answer is yes, because he’ll be horrible at explaining it.

“Yes, I do,” Madame Tucker luckily answers, her curiosity obviously piqued.

“Okay, so, uhm, this is a bit embarrassing, but after I came home Thursday, I- I fell into- uhm, Eddie called it subspace,” Stevie softly confesses. “I didn’t even know that was a thing for me, but it was nice, soothing. Eddie talked me out of it, said he didn’t want to risk doing anything to help when I was under – iffy consent and all that – but we talked after. He- He offered to help, that it could be a thing, but I haven’t given an answer yet.”

“I’m glad he didn’t do anything to you,” Madame Tucker tells him. “Murder isn’t a good look on me, you know. I’d look horrible in orange.”

Stevie laughs, feeling warmth at the protectiveness. Still, he assures her: “Don’t worry, Eddie is very much on the talking about everything train.”

“Good,” Madame Tucker nods, seemingly satisfied with that. “So, why don’t you know? Is it because of Eddie helping or you not wanting to be helped?”

And while it’s the exact reason he wanted to talk with Madame Tucker, Stevie hates this. Hates having to reflect on her own feelings and talk about the with another person. Especially vulnerable, mushy feelings.

Because Stevie can’t ignore that she fell into subspace that night. That is just a thing that happened as a natural de-stress response. After white-knuckling it through the stress, his body did that, which means it can happen again. And the possibility of it happening again means that Stevie has to acknowledge it and plan for it.

If she just collapsed into sleep for twenty hours or something, then this would be a lot easier. That way he could just fall asleep again next time and that was that. But this subspace made him vulnerable. Made her need someone.

Needing someone scares her.

This whole thing has been terrifying, if not also a little exhilarating. He should at least consider talking with Eddie and making up boundaries that if this happened again accidentally, he could help her like he wanted to last time. She thinks it would be less scary to follow Eddie’s lead if she’s already under.

Because that’s truly the thing, isn’t it? He doesn’t know if he’ll be able to do this as a more regular thing, like Eddie was implying.

She remembers how comforting the fuzzy headspace was when she was in it. How peaceful she felt during it. Even how she felt more settled afterwards. But he also remembers he couldn’t just snap out of it. How if Eddie had been a different person, the whole thing could have ended up so, so much worse.

But it is Eddie, who’ll be with her. And he trusts Eddie with his life, with his soul, with his entire being. Plus, the man has more than proven himself not to toy with that trust, should she place it in him. They’re soulmates.

Still, he can’t help but think of what will happen if he’s under and the Upside Down comes back or one of the kids is in trouble. Of what will happen if the others find out. Would they revoke their trust in her? Would they think he’s weak? Would they hate her?

He can’t imagine what it would do to her if she got shunned by the party after everything they’ve gone through together.

And it’s worse that he doesn’t know. It scares him. He doesn’t want to loose these people. It’s the same reason she hasn’t told anyone beyond Eddie and Robin about the gender thing. She cares about their opinions too much. It would hurt too much. He can’t recover from their reactions, should they be bad.

Yet she also knows she carries stress like a second skin. The nightmares may have lessened by not being alone at night, but that doesn’t stop him from always watching over his shoulder, always worrying when she can’t see the kids and always being on the edge, waiting for it all to come crashing down again.

Just because she’d gotten at hiding it, doesn’t mean she isn’t always a bit tense. Except for when he’s with Eddie and Robin or with the kids. They make him feel safe, like he can let go for a moment.

But whenever she is with the kids, she still has to watch them and make sure they’re alright and when he is with Eddie and Robin, he keeps thinking, keeps watching over them.

If he wants to carry on, he needs a way where he can let go and not think for a moment. Eddie is offering that to her on a silver platter, so why is she refusing? DnD is a nice escape, it helps the kids and Eddie, she knows, like books help Robin, Eddie too. Jonathan has/had drugs and Nancy has her school and work. Stevie doesn’t have that. DnD is more fun, hanging out, not unwinding in the sense the others do it.

“So which one is it?” Madame Tucker prompts when he has been silent for too long. “Eddie helping or you not wanting to be helped?”

“Me not wanting to be helped,” Stevie sighs as she admits that.

Madame Tucker makes a sympathetic face, then says: “I know I don’t know every detail of your life, honey, but I can listen. You do so much for everyone around you and I rarely hear you talking about yourself. Why don’t you let people in, Stevie?”

“It’s just who I am,” Stevie shrugs. “I like helping people. I’m good at helping people. And I don’t like feeling helpless.”

“Letting yourself be helped isn’t the same as being helpless, doll,” Madame Tucker reminds him. “I know, it’s hard, but you can’t keep walls around you for the rest of your life. If this is something you want, you shouldn’t stop yourself from accepting the offer.”

“Maybe,” Stevie sighs again. “I just- I don’t know. What if I’m bad at it?”

“Oh honey,” Madame Tucker smiles, “you can’t be bad at this, unless you’re not doing it safely, but from what I hear Eddie is taking safety seriously.” Stevie nods. “If you don’t like it, then you tried and it isn’t for you and you can’t stop. You don’t have to agree for a lifetime, you know.”

She’s not wrong. Eddie has promised her that no matter the answer, it won’t be awkward and he knows Eddie can keep it. It’s just…

“It feels like something that can ruin things, you know,” Stevie sighs.

“Elaborate?” Madame Tucker requests.

Stevie scratches the back of his head, before ordering his thoughts out loud. “We’re, like, soulmates, me, Eddie and Robin. We’ve made all these plans for the future, you know. I don’t want to risk all that just for something that might not work out.”

“And in this future you planned, I know you’re not dating Robin, but do you- do you picture yourself dating Eddie?” Madame Tucker asks tentatively.

“No,” Stevie shakes her head. “I love him, sure, but like I love Robin. But I know that I could love him romantically, but I try not to. Just like I got over Robs, you know. They both mean more to me than any of my romances ever meant and I don’t think it’s worth it. Eddie hasn’t shown any signs of liking me like that. So, why put myself through it, you know?”

Madame Tucker hums thoughtfully, then says: “That is something to consider if you decide to put so much faith in him. People in these sort of dynamic become attached to each other. You’re going to have to talk about boundaries surrounding this, if you don’t think he likes you and if you don’t want to like him. For both your sakes.”

“See, that’s why I don’t want to,” Stevie says. “It’s just too damn risky. I actually don’t like taking risks like that. I just want everyone to be safe. Playing with the order isn’t safe.”

“You’re going to deny yourself a lot of happiness if you think like that, doll,” Madame Tucker points out.

“But also a lot of hurt,” Stevie retorts.

“I don’t know about that, honey,” Madame Tucker raises an eyebrow at him. “It sounds to me like you’re setting yourself up for a life full of hiding. I’m not saying you have to shout who you are from the rooftops. God knows I know how dangerous it is. But you have to find the risks that are worth taking or you’ll be dealing with hurtful comments from people who don’t want to hurt you for the rest of your life.”

The words silence Stevie for a second. He knows that Madame Tucker is talking about more than saying yes to Eddie. Stevie has told her about coming out to the kids as bi and with permission from Eddie also about his coming out, as well as alluding to the fact that kids themselves might not all be straight.

She is adamant that he found the right people and that he should come out so that she can have some spaces to be herself, since the world isn’t going to be that for him.

And it’s not like Stevie hasn’t thought about it. He loves these kids, he trusts them. But she doesn’t know if it’s worth the risk.

For all Eddie says about Stevie being a hero while he is a coward, Stevie doesn’t like taking many risks, while Eddie takes them all the time. But she has her excuses. Like him coming out will put eyes on Robin and it’s a bit more odd than being gay or bi. It’s not like she’s a girl, so he would have to explain it all to them and hope they will listen and get it. Hope they can keep their mouths shut.

Besides, what about Joyce and Hopper. He hasn’t told them about being bi, despite them being cool with Will. And he needs them. They’re more her parents than her own. He values them too much to risk it all. Same goes for Wayne.

She can never bring herself to risk it.

But- But sometimes, he wants to. Whenever he watches Erica play Lady Applejack, he wishes he can join her as Lady Stevie. When Dustin calls her ‘dude’ she wants to ask the kid to stop. He wants to let Max and El do his nail polish, not because they need bigger nails, but because Stevie wants them painted, wants to be included in their giggling gossip. She wants Hopper to call her kid like Wayne does, instead of son. God, he wants…

Eddie and Robin know. He took the risk and it paid off. They’re both so nice about it. Robin hasn’t gotten the chance to do his makeup yet, but she’s very excited about it and Eddie was almost more invested than her in taking the vanity.

Risks have paid off before. Not just the big Upside Down risks, but the small ones. Like when he said yes to Madame Tucker that first time in that backroom or when he flirted with the barman in DnD or when she told the kids that she was bi or when he encouraged Will to come out to Joyce and Hopper.

He’s shocked out of her thoughts by a hand on her shoulder and when she looks up, Madame Tucker is giving her sympathetic eyes. “You don’t have to make any decisions right now, honey, but just think about it. You can take your time,” she tells him.

It’s the same advice he gave Mike yesterday, so he can’t really argue with her, even if she doesn’t know that.

“You think I should say yes to Eddie,” Stevie replies.

“I can’t tell you that, that’s up to you,” Madame Tucker says. “I just know that you have a habit of denying yourself things, because they scare you and you told me it was nice and you trusted Eddie with this. And I feel like you don’t consider that in favor of being scared.”

“Fuck, I hate it when you get wise on me,” Stevie groans, burying her head in her arms. “I do want to try,” he admits. He hasn’t admitted it like that yet, but now it’s there in the open. “I want to feel that again. I want to try and take more risks. I just wanted someone to talk me out of it, so I wouldn't have to face that.”

“Sorry, honey, but I’m the wrong person for that,” Madame Tucker says.

“I know,” she tells her. “That’s why I came to you with it. That and the fact that the list of people I could tell is very limited.”

She grins: “I’m choosing to take that as a compliment.”

“You should,” she assures her.

“Good,” she winks, before she turns genuine. “Seriously, I’m glad you talked to me Stevie. I’m always here for you. You have your own support system back home and I’m happy you do, but I’m glad that I can take you under my wing, like someone did for me.”

“I’m glad you did too,” Stevie says softly. He doesn’t know where he’d be without meeting Madame Tucker back in June. “And I get it, with the kids, you know. They look up to me, I can help them. It’s nice.”

“Yeah,” Madame Tucker smiles. The she claps her hands: “Now, I have to get ready. Do you want to come with me tonight?”

“Hell yeah,” Stevie immediately answers. “I never get to go out and last time was amazing! I didn’t see you after the show, but you were stunning.”

“Thank you, doll,” Madame Tucker blushes. Then she quirks a brow and says: “Do you want to try drag? It’s a bit more risky getting to the club, but you could be a girl for a night, find out how the other side lives.”

Stevie’s eyes grow wide. She isn’t the best at makeup and she hasn’t tried much, but the idea of getting all dolled up is tantalizing. To be seen as a woman for a night instead of a man.

He bites his lip for a second, then smiles: “I mean, I’m going to try and start taking risks, aren’t I?”

“That’s the spirit!” Madame Tucker cheers, dragging her to the bedroom.

Madame Tucker explains that getting in drag is less glamorous than the end result and that she should trust the process. She teaches her how to tuck (warning her that it can be dangerous), hoist Stevie into a spare corset (luckily saying nothing about the scars, because they all have their stories, don’t worry, honey) and pads her hips and chest. And that’s all before they can even get into makeup and outfits.

She has to sit and wait, while Madame Tucker gets into her own undergarments, but she doesn’t really mind. It still feels intoxicating, like they’re doing something that isn’t allowed. It feels a bit like snooping during a sleepover. Like Max and El whispering and giggling together while the others play DnD.

When Madame Tucker is done getting dressed, she puts Stevie onto a chair in front of the mirror, a table of makeup in front of it. Stevie is staring at it with big eyes as Madame Tucker stands behind him and asks: “So what’s the vision?”

“I- I don’t know,” Stevie says, a bit overwhelmed.

“Can I do something?” Madame Tucker asks, like she’d done at their first meeting. Stevie smiles and nods. “Okay, so were are not the same body type, but I have a few clothes here from one of my sisters, so I’m matching it with the outfit, alright?”

Stevie nods again and lets Madame Tucker go to town. At first, he wonders what the hell, he’s gotten himself into and it’s not until she’s done that he can only gasp at his own reflection.

She looks good.

Madame Tucker has carved out a new face shape on his own. Her cheeks are fuller and sharper as is her nose and her eyebrows sit higher. There’s a blush dusting her cheeks and the false lashes do their work perfectly. The eyeshadow is bright pink as are his lips. It’s magical.

“As much as I love your hair, we’re putting a wig on you. That okay, doll?” Madame Tucker asks, running a hand through his hair.

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Stevie says, trying not to lean into the contact too much.

He is thrilled to find that she can braid it before putting something called a wig cap on her, before sliding on a magnificent blonde wig. It’s big and swoop-y and Stevie feels like a princess, even if the undergarments look a bit dumb.

She can’t stop looking in the mirror – much to Madame Tucker’s amusement and delight – while the drag queen does her own makeup, going for a more grungy, dramatic style. When Stevie asks about it, she shrugs: “You have more a sweet vibe to you, honey.”

The dress she hands Stevie to put on is pink, like the makeup suggested. It has a polo like top, though more feminine and a cute heart-shaped breast pocket, while the bottom is pleated. The dress is a bubblegum pink, however, she’s also been given a hot pink petticoat for underneath, which gives the dress volume, giving him more of a shape.

They discover that they’re the same shoe size and Madame Tucker tells him that’s good, because that way she won’t have to subject him to heels just yet. Then promptly hands her a pair of pink cowboy boots that make Stevie wonder why she owns them.

When Stevie is fully dressed, Madame Tucker can’t help but clap her hands excitedly, saying: “Oh, I knew you could pull off a southern bell!”

The she takes out a polaroid and asks if she can take a picture, to which Stevie agrees, striking a silly pose. She tips an imaginary hat, cocking her hip with the other hand on it.

Once it’s fully developed she explains: “When you put someone in drag for the first time, you become their drag mother. I like having the first look for every one of my girls.” She points to a few more pictures on the mirror, names scrawled under it. “What do you want your drag name to be? It can be whatever you want.”

Stevie thinks about it for a second, then decides: “Princess Dingus.” It’s a combination of nicknames given to him by his two soulmates and she thinks it’s perfect.

“I love that,” Madame Tucker grins, writing the name under the picture with a flourish, before hanging it on the mirror.

There’s a knock at the door and Madame Tucker tells her it’s Brain, who will be their ride and if Stevie wants to her to tell him that it’s Stevie under there or not. Stevie knows Brian is cool and decides it’s good if one other person knows that he’s not from the city, new to this and can be trusted in Madame Tucker’s home. So, he nods.

Brian, as it turns out, is as much of a sweetheart as Madame Tucker gushed and it’s absolutely adorable how he lights up when he sees her, complimenting her until she’s giggling and hiding her face.

It’s a bit funny to see Madame Tucker in her full fishnets, black corset, small cheetah print dress, with a black beehive wig, standing next to Brian, who is an unassuming man. Both are in their early thirties, but Brian is already balding a bit and looks like he could be a manager at any grocery store in town.

When Madame Tucker explains who Stevie is, Brian grins and holds out his hand, saying: “Well, you look lovely, Stevie. Pleasure to meet you.”

“Thank you, the same,” Stevie says. “I’ve heard only good things.”

“I’m glad,” Brian grins. “And the same. You’re a good friend.”

“Okay, before either of you can embarrass me, lets get this show on the road,” Madame Tucker interrupts their meeting.

Stevie is fine with following, but Brian stops them before they can leave, asking if they have a picture together yet. When the answer is no, he insists on taking one for them.

He ends up taking a few pictures, but he gifts Stevie her favorite. In it, she and Madame Tucker have their faces pressed close together, both sending the camera a kiss, though they barely manage through the laughter. On it he writes: ‘Indy 27-12-‘86 Madame Tucker and Princess Dingus’

The club is thriving with life and while Stevie has been terrified on their way there, once within the safety of the walls, she feels alive. She might not be preforming, but Madame Tucker introduces her to all the girls as her drag daughter and he gets cooed over by all sorts of drag performers.

This time, he’s in the crowd with Brian, which is a bit awkward, but Brian is nice and Stevie is good at small talk, so they make it work until the show starts.

It’s as awe inspiring and intoxicating as the first time and Stevie feels bad about blowing through most of his cash today on presents, but he tips what he can miss.

She feels alive watching these people. Feels less worried about life back in Hawkins. Just exists as part of the crowd.

After the show, she stays and talks at the bar with Madame Tucker and a few of the others. He gushes the entire time about them, which buys him more favor with them. She listens to their advice with rapt attention. He doesn’t mind being inexperienced for once, it’s nice to not be expected to have answers and, who knows, with her kids, she can use all the advice to pass on.

They pile back into Brian’s car at about 4:00 AM, Stevie the sober one behind the wheel. When they get back to the apartment, Stevie barely makes her way out of drag, before crashing on the couch.

When he wakes up, it’s 9:00 AM, which is better than expected. And while he wakes up with a start, it isn’t with a scream.

She makes coffee and starts on breakfast with what she can find in the fridge, guessing that if she woke up tired without a hangover, Brian and Madame Tucker will suffer more with theirs. And a good meal is something that you crave when you’re done vomiting.

Sure enough, Madame Tucker comes padding into the room soon after and groans: “How are you up and running?”

Stevie laughs. “I was the king of high school parties and showing up the next day like it hadn’t touched me,” he says, not telling her that he has become so used to functioning on a little after all the nightmares and didn’t drink anyway.

“Should have guessed you were a popular kid,” Madame Tucker snorts.

“I’m trying to do better,” Stevie jokes in a way that’s not a joke. Though Madame Tucker gets that with how she nods sagely.

Then she says: “Brian isn’t a morning person – neither am I, honestly – but I figured you wanted to head back home early and I didn’t want you to do without saying goodbye.”

“Thanks,” Stevie smiles. She had indeed half thought to leave a thank you note and sneak out if the two wanted to sleep in, but he has to admit it’s nicer to be able to say goodbye in person. “Last night was fun. So also thanks for that.”

“Of course,” Madame Tucker replies, sounding pleased. “You deserve to let loose a bit and you could use a distraction after this month.”

“Tell me about,” Stevie snorts, plating the food and sliding onto the bar with Madame Tucker as they started to eat.

“You know, you don’t have to wear drag outside of the house,” Madame Tucker breaks the silence after a second. “God knows I started out far away from others doing the most horrible makeup looks that I am glad never saw the light of day.”

“I have roommates,” Stevie points out, picking up on what she is putting down.

“Nice, supporting, soulmates for life roommates,” Madame Tucker argues. “Look, doll, all I’m saying is that you had a blast and if it made you feel good, you shouldn’t deny yourself the little pleasures in your own home.”

Stevie hums, not agreeing but not really disagreeing either.

“Hell, you don’t have to go the whole nine yards with it, but there’s nothing wrong with buying a few more feminine items to wear around the house to make yourself feel nice,” Madam Tucker says. “Stop with that Christian mindset of self denying.”

“Hm, never thought about it like that,” Stevie says after a second. “And I- I do have some items, I just don’t get around to it very often.”

“My advice is to try and make a day out of it every so often,” Madame Tucker tells her. “In this day and age there’s enough to bring you down, finding moments of joy should be treasured, honey. Take a moment for yourself. The world is better for it.”

“You are truly a beacon of wisdom, but it’s also early morning,” Stevie groans, though they both know she’s considering the advice and tucking it away for later.

So, Madame Tucker gives in with an: “Alright, alright, an old lady’s crazy must stop somewhere,” which makes Stevie laugh, though she later offers to send him some zines from the big city with news and updates from the community as well as new terms that are popping up.

They finish the rest of their breakfast, before saying their goodbyes. Stevie hugs Madame Tucker tightly and thanks her again for everything, while Madame Tucker tells her it was her pleasure and to not be a stranger.

When Stevie drives home, he feels lighter than when he drove there. He has a plan now, a resolution, something to do. It’s nice.

At home, it’s not just Eddie who is there, but Robin too. Together they bounce off the couch to come hug her and ask how she’s doing.

Stevie smiles widely and says: “It was good. I- I needed the trip. Madame Tucker is comforting and she gives good advice. It was nice to leave the past month of stress behind me.”

“And you couldn't do that with us?” Robin pouts, still not entirely happy by being left behind while Stevie went of to the city without an explanation.

“I’m sorry, Robs,” he kisses her forehead. “I just had to talk with someone about me and you know I’m bad at talking about that. I needed to talk with someone who isn’t caught up in the whole Upside Down thing.”

“No, I’m sorry,” Robin says, backing off. “I know you need and deserve a break sometime and if we’re going to spend the rest of our lives together I have to accept that sometimes that includes taking a break from me. I’m sorry for being pushy.”

“Thank you,” Stevie tells her, because it’s always nice to hear that he can have privacy for some things as well as get the reassurance that life with Eddie and Robin is still there. “But I rarely need a break from you,” she adds, because she can’t have Robin thinking she’s annoying or unwanted.

“So, anything scandalous happen while you were away?” Eddie asks to break the tension.

By the tone he asks it in, he isn’t expecting a positive answer, so Stevie takes great delight in taking out the picture Brian took and holding it up as he says: “I did drag.”

“What?” Eddie yelps, as Robin plucks the picture out of her hand with a: “No way!”

They both study the picture closely and Eddie wolf whistles and Robin grins cheekily while somehow managing to look touched as she reads: “Princess Dingus?”

“It felt like it fit,” Stevie shrugs, blushing and not meeting their eyes.

He is tackled in another hug by the two of them, before they go to place the picture on the vanity together. Their room is already more personal than Stevie’s old one ever was. It’s thrilling and exciting to have that now.

She is very aware of the fact that Eddie knows why she went to the city and what she talked about with Madame Tucker. However, he never sends him a questioning glance or gives a look to indicate he’s trying to read what his reply will be.

Sure, it could be that it is because they’re keeping it from Robin (for now at least, though Stevie isn’t sure how or if they want to keep this from her). But he knows it’s not that. Eddie is giving him all the space, letting her set the pace.

It’s nice to be considered like that. She’s getting more and more used to it with Eddie and Robin around.

Stevie vows to make talking to Eddie about it all a new years resolution.

~~

A/N:

Stevie deserves to try drag, I don’t make the rules <3 (seriously though, I made myself emotional writing about it, idk man, it just got to me)

((also if there are fan artist out there, who are bored **eye emoji**))

Also, again, I love Madame Tucker so so much and I have deep lore about her and Brian, okay, I would sell my soul for them. Home made blorbo’s baby xp

[in-ky]

An Old Scent [1] - Negan x Reader (A/B/O AU)

Summary: During summer break, you decide to come back home to visit your dad, Rick. Over the course of your stay, you realize that your dad's friend is pretty hot.

Warnings: Eventual smut, A/B/O dynamics, cheating, age gap, Negan

A/N: yay first fic! this will have four parts! i hope everyone enjoys. this is an au where the apocalypse never happened. 3.2k words

I squinted as I stepped out into the bright Virginian sun. People swarmed all around me, creating the steady hum of airport ambience that I had grown accustomed to over the years. I had just gotten off a four-hour flight home from college and all I wanted to do was shower and curl up in bed. But I couldn't. Oh, no. First I had to endure a fun thirty-minute car ride with my best friend since second grade. I scanned the curb in front of me for her small black car and caught sight of a tall woman waving at me. I grinned and walked forward, tugging along my baggage behind me.

"Ugh, it's so good to see you, Bee." I sighed as I enveloped my friend into a large hug. She let out a laugh and swayed us gently.

"It's good to see you, too," She hummed, rustling my hair "I forgot how short you were." Bee was an alpha; tall, muscular, and very quick to remind me of our differences. Of course, it was in a 'joking with love' kind of way. I was an omega; small, rounded, and very quick to punch her gently in the abdomen.

"I forgot how much of a jerk you are." I quipped, huffing and wheeling my bag to her trunk.

"Oh, come on, babes, don't be like that," Bee laughed, opening the driver side door and waiting for me to walk back to my side. "Now get in, we've got a lot of catching up to do."

---

"How are your heats going?"

"Jesus, that's what you want to start with?" I scoffed, crossing my arms over my chest. Bee shrugged.

"We don't have to if you don't want to," She clarified, turning out onto the street "I'm just saying, I know they've gotten pretty bad as we've gotten older. Did you try out those tips I sent you?"

"Yea, I did," I said quietly, looking at the trees rushing by on the side of the highway "They worked for a while but..."

"But you need an alpha," Bee sighed, finishing the sentence for me.

"That's the plan for this summer," I agreed "Might finally settle down."

"You know, I'm always here if you need me." She said with a wink. I scoffed at her.

"I'm not that desperate," I laughed, shoving her lightly "Not yet, at least."

"Anyone take your interest back in Colorado?"

"Not really," I hummed, tilting my head in consideration. "There was this one guy. We dated for a few months but towards the end he became a total knot-head. He couldn't keep his hands off me. I thought it was cute at first, but after I started to miss a few classes...well, that shit got old pretty quickly." Bee made a disgusted noise.

"Ugh, men," She grunted, wrinkling her nose "I'm glad I never went through that phase. I'm perfectly happy with chicks, thank you very much. Much less of a pain in my ass."

"Oh, they're not so bad," I smirked "I think it's just alphas in general." She glared at me momentarily and I stuck my tongue out at her. We drove in a comfortable silence for a few moments, just enjoying each other's company. That was always something I loved about Bee. We never had to fill every second with chatter, we could just exist together in the same space and be just as content. She started to hum along to the song that buzzed softly from the radio and my eyes tracked a hawk. Soon enough, we reached our exit and Bee turned the car onto a smaller road, starting the countdown to my arrival home.

"Are you excited to see your dad?" Bee asked, killing the silence.

"Yea, I am," I smiled. We hadn't always had the best of relationships, but the distance that college gave had done wonders for us. A few texts and calls had worked perfectly for us. When he invited me to stay a few weeks during summer I gladly accepted. I wanted to see just how well our relationship had strengthened. Plus I knew he really needed someone.

"How's he doing?" There was genuine concern in Bee's voice. A few months ago, my mom had revealed that she had been having an affair with one of dad's work buddies. She left with him and took my brother down to Georgia.

"I think he's okay. But you know dad, he's not really an emotions guy. He was starting to get some closure but then the divorce papers came in the mail. That really hurt him," I told her, twisting a strand of my hair around my finger. "I just don't know how Lori could do that to him, you know? She won't even let Carl up to visit. The new baby's cute, though. Looks just like Shane." Bee hummed in acknowledgement.

"Well, tell him I said hi, alright?"

"Will do." A few more seconds of silence passed. Until we stopped at a light. Bee looked up and spotted a billboard that sported a very familiar, very handsome face.

"Holy shit!" Bee shrieked, slapping my arm.

"Ow, what the hell?" I hissed, grabbing my shoulder. She pointed frantically at the sign.

"That guy! Isn't that, shit- the hell's his name?" Pulling my eyes from my lap, I let them settle on the object of her excitement. All of the color drained from my face. It was an add for a law firm. There was an old geezer posing proudly on the left, and to his right, was the man who haunted my wet dreams for the majority of high school.

"Negan." I gulped.

"Yea, your dad's hot friend you never shut up about." Bee groaned, pressing on the gas and moving us away from the sign. Negan was a lawyer/make-shift-law-professor and baseball coach at the local community college. He had a sort-of contract with my dad's department. Many times I had come home after school to the two of them puzzling out a case on the kitchen table. Negan was an alpha of alphas, something that got my little omega heart (and other things) pumping until I couldn't breath. His humor and dominating persona made me blush a deep crimson color any time I saw him. Sometimes I would spend hours sitting on the stairs just listening to him talk to my dad. His voice was something else. I had gushed to Bee about him countless times during our times at high school. But I hadn't seen him since my graduation party.

"I wonder if you'll see him again," Bee teased, nudging me again to pull me out of my trance of memories. Then, she did a dramatic gasp. "What if he's your mate?" It was my turn to slap her in the shoulder.

"He's older than my dad!" I squealed, burying my now-blushing cheeks in my hands.

"You're an adult I don't think it matters."

"I think he's engaged."

"Just 'cause there's a goalie doesn't mean you can't scoooore." Bee pulled a face at me and I returned her grimace.

"Whatever, you're lucky we're almost at my house." I huffed, falling back into my seat with my arms crossed over my chest.

"Oh, yea, omega? What are you gonna do?" I rolled my eyes as she laughed off my grumpiness. We rolled to a stop in front of my driveway and a leaned in to give her a kiss on the cheek.

"Thanks so much, Bee, I really appreciate you," I grinned, popping open the door.

"No problem, babes," She winked, unlocking the trunk "But I swear to the gods, you better fucking call me and give me updates on everything, especially if you run into Mr. Hotcakes." I rolled my eyes once more and promised her I would before closing the door. I retrieved my bag and gave her a wave as she drove down the street. When she was out of view, I took a deep breath and turned around, walking up the driveway to the front door.

I knocked heavily on the dark oak door. While I waited for someone to answer, I decided to look around at the home I had left behind about a year ago. My childhood home had changed now and then over the years, but there were still some iconic pieces of memories in the front yard that could never be forgotten. My personal favorite was Eddie the garden gnome. He was a standard gnome: small and stout with a large white beard that led into a pointy red hat. His eyes were shut and his mouth was curved into a smile. However, he was missing a nose. I grinned as I recalled the unfortunate mishap that caused Eddie to become deformed. I was about twelve, and carl was five. He had gotten a kid's baseball from Negan for his birthday and had begged me to teach him how to play, since I was on the local softball team at the time. I relented and set it up in the front yard. Eddie was our outfielder. Eddie didn't have a mitt. Well, he did, but it was his face. Carl absolutely smashed the first pitch I tossed at him and hit poor Eddie right in the face, shattering his round, pink nose into pieces. Carl bursted into tears and I had to promise him that he did not in fact kill our precious protector of our house. Lori ran out frantically and comforted her son before giving me a thorough chewing out for damaging Eddie. We never used the set again. That she knew of, anyways. Negan always let us play in his yard, though. I smiled at the memory, but the clicking of the lock to the door pulled me from my train of thought. The door swung open and I was met with the smiling face of my father.

"Sweetie, I'm so glad you made it!" He laughed, pulling me in swiftly and squeezing me tight.

"It's good to see you too, dad." I croaked, letting out a small chuckle. I tapped on his shoulder as a signal for him to let go.

"How was the flight?" He asked as he stepped out to grab my bag. I told him it was good but that the screaming kids had given me a bit of a headache. He gave a small laugh and gestured for me to enter. I thanked him and he rolled my bag in behind me. We exchanged a few words but as soon as I walked through the kitchen into the doorway of the living room I was hit by a wall. Not literally, no, but rather a wall of overwhelming scent. It was a delicious swirl of campfire and whiskey, with a hint of cigarettes and leather. I paused for a moment, my eyes forced closed and my lungs taking a deep breath of the intoxicating air. Colors danced across my eyelids. My whole body was flooded with warmth and my toes tingled. I felt safe and calm, and there was something else; something deep within my stomach that I couldn't quite identify, something I never felt before. My eyes snapped open when I felt my father's hand rest firmly on my shoulder.

"I hope you don't mind, sweetie, but I invited company over while I was waiting for you to arrive," He smiled at me. I got a good look at him then. He looked the same, his hair was a bit longer, a bit greyer. But his eyes were different. They were darker, rounder, rawer. I gave a soft smile and told him it was fine. He guided me into the living room. It was then I realized where that deadly smell was coming from. Or, rather, who it was coming from. "Negan, you remember my girl." In that moment, I held my breath as I scanned Negan. He looked fucking amazing, just as he always had. Perfect dimples guarding a charming smile, all surrounded by a gorgeous salt and pepper beard. His hair was longer than it was when I had left, not slicked back, but it still framed his face perfectly. Negan's body was draped casually over the sectional couch, legs crossed at the ankle on the ottoman. His arms were on the top of the couch and his wrists were dangling. He knew he was hot. That bastard. I suddenly became aware of his eyes raking over my form and I shifted from one foot to the other.

"'course I do, Rick," Negan said, voice silky and deep. I couldn't help but let a small shudder run down my spine. All I wanted to do was kneel down in front of him and curl up at his feet. I forced my inner omega down, shaking the thought from my head. "How could I forget the little slugger?" I cringed inside at the nickname. Especially the use of the word 'little'. I begged that he didn't still see me as the kid down the street. Instead as a grown woman. A grown omega.

"Hi, Negan." I greeted with a small smile, swallowing to relieve my dry throat. Now that I was next to him, his scent was clogging all my senses. I gripped onto the couch and lowered myself onto the cushion, hoping to ground myself. It helped, just barely. My heart was pounding, my instincts telling me to submit to this man in front of me. Why, though? Why now? He had never smelled this good before. No alpha had. Was I getting close to my heat? I did have a stomach ache, but that could be from Negan alone.

"Hey, sweetheart. How's college goin'?" Negan asked, sipping on his drink. He kept eye contact with me the whole time. Rick handed me a glass of soda and I thanked him.

"It's good!" I said after taking a sip, thankful for the hydration in my coarse throat "Towards the end it got a little hectic, but I was able to stay on top of everything, thankfully."

"You're studying film, right?" He asked, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees.

"That's right," I grinned, crossing my legs to relieve some of the pressure the movement caused to build up in my lower abdomen "You still teaching law?" This caused him to chuckle. Literally music to my ear.

"If that's what you want to fuckin' call it." Negan sighed, falling back to his original position, hands resting in his lap "I talk, the kids kinda listen. I just do it for the coaching job, really. You remember how much I love that damn sport, right?"

"Baseball?" I asked, raising a brow "You mean the only thing you talked about at all of the Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners you were invited to?"

"Touché." Negan grinned. Goddamn that smile. Butterflies erupted in my chest, beating hard against my ribcage, begging to throw myself at his chest and bury myself in him. Rick cleared his throat and smiled at me to get my attention.

"I want to know more about your college experience!" He beamed, rubbing a hand through his beard "Any special alphas you've got your eyes on?" I heard Negan choke slightly on his whiskey. A small bubble of pride rose in my chest. I laughed at his words.

"Dad, I don't think Negan wants to hear about my love life."

"Shit, doll, I don't mind," He grumbled "I don't get to hear any drama now-a-days"

"What do you mean?" I giggled, tilting my head "You argue for a living. Your job is to literally deal with drama."

"Yea, but that's complex drama," He growled, waving his hand dismissively "I wanna hear simple, schoolgirl 'he loves me, he loves me not' kind of bullshit."

"Well sorry to disappoint," I snorted, running a hand through my hair "but no, there's no one I have an eye on." Dad's smile turned into a frown.

"Shame." I heard Negan whisper. I wasn't sure if I was supposed to hear it. It was quiet, barely above his breath, and he said it while twirling his whiskey, following the words with a large gulp.

"You really should start looking, dear." Dad said with a sigh "You know it only gets harder as you get older."

"Dad please, I don't..." I cut him off "Listen, I appreciate you trying to understand this stuff, I really do, but I don't really want to talk about it with my father." He looked at me with an understanding smile.

"Sure," He nodded "But if you ever need anything, anything at all, you just let me know, alright." I nodded.

"Well, this sure has been fun, Ricky-boy," Negan grinned, getting to his feet and stretching his arms far above his head. "We do have that big court case in the mornin', though, and I need my shut-eye."

"Big case, eh?" I asked, rising from my seat as well. Dad nodded and excitement sparked in his eyes.

"You should come! It's an open court and I would love for you to see what I do. I know you always wanted to as a kid, but your mom made you wait until you were older. Well, now's the perfect time!" He rambled, grasping my shoulders.

"W-Well, I dunno, I don't want to be a distraction," I stumbled, taken aback by my father's display of enthusiasm. I turned to Negan, as if asking for permission. He just laughed.

"Oh-o, doll, I don't get distracted. Not in there, not anywhere. Don't you worry about a goddamn thing. You should come, Rick seems like he really wants you to."

"Okay, then," I grinned, nodding in commitment "I'll see you there in the morning then." I looked up to Negan and we locked eyes for a brief moment. But in that moment, something within me quivered. He brushed up against me and smirked down at me.

"See you tomorrow, sweetheart. It was nice to see you. You're lookin' great." It took all my willpower not to let out a whimper as he walked past me, taking his glorious scent with him.

My dad said that he should also get some rest, but that I could stay up as long as I wanted to. I was pretty wiped from my flight so I opted to follow him up the narrow staircase, tugging my bag behind me. I hugged him goodnight and stepped into my room. It hadn't been touched since I left last summer. The forest green bedspread was still perfectly tucked into the mattress and two plump pillows were perched at the head of the bed. My muscles ached for the soft release of sleep. I put my suitcase down by my dresser, taking a moment to smile at some old photos of me and Bee as kids. I showered and brushed my teeth before getting into the comfortable bed. I looked up at the ceiling and giggled softly at the glow-in-the-dark stars shining overhead. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. I wasn't thinking of anything in particular, but for some reason, all of my dreams were plagued by the sweet smell, sound, sight, feeling, and taste of Negan.

[novelconcepts]

FOUND IT!!! Consider this an official ask for 3 and 14 combined! #wheee

smiling into a kiss and play wrestling

Having a best friend again is strange. She’d gone so long imagining the phrase as a sort of neon sign staked firmly in the past: Best Friend, already spoken for. Eddie had always been it; no other volunteers need apply. 

But Eddie’s gone now, out of her life, living out wherever his might go in another country altogether, and Dani finds the position has--slowly, without really planning for it--been filled once more. Not that she planned for it. Not that could ever could have. 

She didn’t come to Bly looking for Jamie, and if you’d told her the gardener who refused to so much as meet her eyes, much less introduce herself, would become the most important person in her life--well. Life is full of surprises.

There is so little of Eddie in Jamie, she sometimes wonders how both could have occupied the same shape in her heart. Sometimes wonders how Eddie--who prized cleanliness, routine work hours, dinners at his mother’s once a week--would look at Jamie, if he could see her. Jamie, all tousled hair, happiest with a cigarette between her teeth and both hands buried in soil. Jamie, who has never kept a nine-to-five, never craved Sunday afternoons with her parents, never looks at Dani like she expects firm posture, bright smile, neat clothes. 

They couldn’t possibly be more different--and yet, somehow, Jamie is her best friend. Unfair to think it, maybe, but she might be the best friend Dani’s ever had. Her sense of humor is dark, her vocabulary wallpapered with curse words and shorn letters; she smells of nicotine and sunscreen, dresses in wrinkled flannels and torn jeans. Where Eddie looped an arm around her shoulders, Jamie nudges her with bony elbows; where Eddie pressed his lips to her temple, Jamie leans carefully away. Different, in every measure. 

And it isn’t that she likes Jamie more. That wouldn’t be fair--not after so many years in Eddie’s company. It’s just that when Jamie looks at her, eyes bright, dirt smudged on one cheek, sometimes, she feels...

“You’re thinking,” Jamie observes. She doesn’t say it the way Eddie would--the way he always pointed out when she was clenching her fist under the table, or picking at her nails, his voice edged with concern bordering on condescension. Her voice is light, her lips curved in a small smile. 

Eddie never quite smiled at her like that. Or, if he did, it didn't pluck the same chord in her stomach. Not that that matters. Not that that affects the sincerity of friendship. 

Not that it’s making her feel weirdly flushed this afternoon. 

“Am I not allowed to think?” she asks. The sun, she thinks, is responsible for the goofy smile on her face. The heat of the day, which stretches on and on the way only early July knows how.

“Not arguing,” Jamie says. “One of us ought to.”

She’s on her knees, pulling weeds, her face shining with sweat. There’s something about days like this--afternoons where the kids are occupied helping Owen bake cookies, leaving Dani to nurse a glass of water and pleasantly-meandering conversation--that feels almost too good to be allowed. Eddie would have wanted to do something with a day like this: hike, or clear up the yard, or go visit family. 

Jamie, on the other hand, pushes to her feet and surveys the bed she’s spent all day working. “Think that’s good enough for a break. Here, budge over.”

Dani obediently scoots to the edge of her seat, amused when Jamie flops down half in her lap. A year of working at the manor, and Jamie’s gone from a woman who couldn’t make eye contact to save her life to this: gangly limbs tossed haphazardly over Dani’s, sweat-slick skin sticking where it lands against Dani’s shoulder. It’s too hot for cozying up like this, but she can’t seem to convince herself to push Jamie away. 

“There,” Jamie sighs, tilting her head back against the plastic of the lawn chair. “Christ, feels good just to breathe.”

“You breathe,” Dani says, “and I’ll think. Together, we make an almost-functional human being.”

“Almost,” Jamie says wryly. Her hand loops around Dani’s, teasing the sweating glass out of her grip long enough to take a sip. Dani nudges her. 

“Could get you one of your own, if you ever learned to ask politely.”

“Don’t like me polite,” Jamie says with a shrug. “My brand is prickly-yet-charming, and we both know I’m your favorite for it.”

“Technically,” Dani corrects, “Flora is my favorite. Mainly because she doesn’t make me remind her to say please.”

“Please,” Jamie says without missing a beat, “keep pretending you aren’t captivated by my winning personality.”

Dani laughs. “Oh, is that what I am?”

“Mm.” Jamie takes another sip, reaches over her to set the glass down on the table, closes her eyes. “S’what you were all pensive about just now, I’m sure. How entranced you are with my witty banter.”

“Entranced,” Dani repeats.

“Beguiled. Mesmerized. Drunk with adoration.” Jamie’s face is pink, a bead of sweat neatly lining her upper lip. Dani only realizes she’s staring a fortunate beat before Jamie rolls her head to the left, peering at her with lazy amusement. “Go on. Tell me how much you love me.”

“Love how ridiculous you can be, maybe.” And how sweet, and how unquestioningly soft, though she doesn’t see a need to put that into words--or a way to do it without sounding entirely out of her head. The heat, she thinks, is absolutely getting to her. 

It’s the heat, making her want suddenly to slide an arm between the plastic back of the chair and the cotton of Jamie’s tank top, pulling her even closer. The heat, making her want to displace the normal back-and-forth ease of friendship with something else entirely. 

She’s had a best friend before. She’s never quite wanted to do with Eddie what she is, more and more, thinking about with Jamie curled up beside her. 

Distract, she thinks, because Jamie is still watching her with that half-lidded expression she gets when the sun is particularly bright, the day’s work has been well-tended, and Dani’s shoulder is a cushion beneath her head. More and more, it’s been feeling like a dangerous sort of moment, Jamie’s face lingering near the crook of her neck. Jamie’s breath coasting down the neckline of her dress. Jamie’s smile sweeter than should be allowed, given the grumpy way she slouches around the grounds. 

“Thinking,” Jamie says, her voice almost soft. Dani shakes her head. 

“It’s not illegal.”

“Is,” Jamie says, “if you’re gonna just stare at me all googly-eyed while you do it. C’mon, what gives? Is today some holiday I’ve forgotten?” She sits up a little straighter, her face comic in its sudden concern. “Shit, Poppins, it’s not your birthday.”

She almost wants to say it is, just to watch Jamie turn fascinating new shades of maroon. “No--just--it’s hot.”

Jamie sags back with palpable relief. Her arm is freckled, Dani notices, beyond the norm; the summer is drawing all sorts of secrets from her skin, and it’s suddenly painfully tempting, the urge to trace her nail along these newfound constellations. 

Distract, she thinks again, more urgently this time. Without thinking it through, without considering the consequences, she dips two fingers into the glass of water and flicks the still-cool moisture directly into Jamie’s face. 

Jamie, to her credit, hardly jumps. She’s just blinking at Dani like their conversation has taken an unanticipated left turn into another language, water dripping from the end of her nose. 

“Okay,” she says. “If that’s how we’re playing it.”

Her arm reaches across without hesitation, replicating Dani’s playbook: two fingers dipped, flicked, landing back in her lap as Dani sputters. 

“You got me in the eye.”

“Cooled you off, though?” Jamie asks, almost politely. Dani laughs, and suddenly, it’s war. There’s barely enough room on the chair for the both of them to sit like adults, much less to squirm around, hips knocking, legs tangled up as the remainder of the glass finds its way--droplet by droplet--into Jamie’s face, down Dani’s neck, sometimes missing entirely and disappearing into the sizzling summer air. 

Dani is ultimately the victor, an upset decided when she grasps the glass--now containing maybe two inches of water--and upends it directly over Jamie’s head. She’s laughing almost too hard to breathe, particularly when Jamie gives a firm shake of her hair, looking like a rumpled dog after a bath.

“That,” Jamie says in a low, dangerous tone, “cannot stand.”

She’s up before Dani can stop her, sprinting toward the garden hose uncoiled in the grass. Dani twists in her seat, knees drawn up to her chest, arms extended.

“Don’t you dare!”

“All’s fair,” Jamie says, almost apologetically, depressing the trigger. 

They are, Dani notes somewhere in the back of her mind, full-grown adult women. They are thirty years old, gainfully employed, responsible for the upkeep of an entire house and the well-being of two small children. 

They are also now chasing one another across the lawn, Dani sopping wet, Jamie laughing so hard she nearly trips over her own feet taking a corner too fast. The hose is growing more and more tangled by the minute as she dashes in a zig-zag pattern, periodically firing a jet of water over her shoulder, and Dani has no prayer of catching up--not with her shoes squelching, slipping on wet grass, her lungs clenched around a soundless jag of laughter. 

Adults, she thinks, as Jamie makes the insurmountable error of trying to bolt past her like a quarterback dodging a tackle; she makes a successful leap over the tangled hose, but forgets at the last second to factor in the edge of the lawn chair. Dani has her around the middle before she can dart out of reach, the both of them tumbling over in a cackling heap of grass clippings, puddled hose water, freckled limbs. 

They’re rolling, shouting wordlessly around giggles, Dani struggling to pry the hose out of Jamie’s hands. It’s harder than it looks; Jamie is small, but strong in an annoyingly wiry sort of way. Even when Dani manages to get her onto her back, the water is inescapable, dousing in short jets across her chest, down her arms, pooling awkwardly between them. 

“You are,” she laughs, “a child.”

“Could a child do this?” Jamie replies, jerking upward at the hips with unexpected force. Dani rocks up with her, one hand grasping the sodden front of Jamie’s shirt for balance, and drops back down without budging from her seat. Jamie releases an oof as her back makes rough contact with the ground again, giggling too hard to successfully shove Dani over.

“Yes, actually, I think a child would be exactly that effective,” Dani informs her. Her body has never felt quite this alive, her muscles aching with the effort of an unplanned run. Jamie, chest heaving for breath, is practically glowing. 

“Just want to remind you,” Jamie says, “you did start this.”

“Does that mean I win?” If she hasn’t, she can’t imagine it would feel any better than this: straddling Jamie’s hips in the soft grass, cool water seeping down her back, her dress sticking pleasantly to warm skin. Jamie allows the hose to drop from her grip at last, her head tipped back, eyes closed.

“Call it a draw.”

“What if I wanted to win?” She slides a hand up without thinking, pinning Jamie by the wrist before she can decide to take up her watery weapon again. Jamie draws a deep breath, face flushed, grinning. 

“Guess you’d have to work harder for it.”

Children, Dani thinks--but suddenly, it doesn’t feel childish anymore. Suddenly, she’s overly aware of her dress rucked high around her thighs, of how short Jamie’s shorts really are, how her body is considerably less obscured than usual with her shirt plastered to her frame. Suddenly, she’s aware of Jamie’s hand flexing against the grass, pinned beside her head with a loose enough grip to break--though Jamie isn’t breaking it. Isn’t even trying.

Jamie is, instead, gazing up at her with hair mussed, eyes bright. Jamie, whose free hand is sliding up to rest along the curve of Dani’s hip. 

She’s Dani’s best friend, like he was, but this doesn’t feel like it belongs in the same category as late-night stories swapped by the fire, or letting each other steal the vegetables the other doesn’t care for off their plate. This feels like a category all its own: the way Jamie licks her lips as Dani’s head lowers, the way Dani’s fingers graze the freckles painting her wrist on the way up to notching her palm against Jamie’s. 

Her hair is wet, and Jamie’s face is sweaty, and there’s so little romance to the whole picture, it takes her by surprise. She’s always thought there should be talking before a thing like this, at least--a decision made on equal footing. 

“I don’t have to,” she says, even as Jamie is saying, “Do you want to?”

Children would laugh again, go back to wrestling, go back to how it all felt just a few minutes before. They are not, Dani notes as she lowers her head--as Jamie shifts up at the shoulders to meet her--children. 

She’s hyper-aware of all of it now: the sun beating against her shoulders, the hand Jamie is using to grip the back of her dress, the exact angle of Jamie’s mouth parting beneath her own. Her tongue is gentle, brushing Jamie’s, and the sound Jamie makes into her is anything but. 

She’s smiling, she realizes, so hard, it hurts--that deep, wonderful hurt of laughing too hard for too long, of slipping in the grass and landing in a heap with someone who couldn’t help catching her on the way down. She’s grinning into Jamie even as she’s kissing her, even as she’s letting her body stretch out to press Jamie more firmly against the damp ground. 

And Jamie, fingers curled between her own, making soft sounds of appreciation into the kiss, is grinning right back. 

“This was your plan all along,” she accuses, brushing the hair from Dani’s eyes when they break for a breath. “Awful lot of work, for a kiss.”

“All’s fair?” Dani suggests--and she genuinely, honestly cannot decide which she likes more: the way Jamie kisses, or the way Jamie kisses and laughs at the same time. All of it, she feels, goes a country mile beyond best friends. All of it goes a country mile beyond anything she could ever have dreamed up, walking away from him the way she did. 

It couldn’t possibly be more different.

[escxpiism]

( olivia holt, 23, she/her ) * hey, i’m looking for the office of ALICE ADAMS. they’re the EMPLOYEE who’s known around the office as THE MASK if that helps ? not to be a gossip, but i’ve heard that they’re ADAPTABLE but JADED, is that true ? i also heard that they’re the one who CATFISHED DAVID HASSELHOFF. anyways, here’s the coffee they ordered.

hi y’all !! i’m may ( 21 // est // she/her ) and i am super super pumped to be here !! i’m also very much writing this against my better judgment ya girl’s running on four hours of sleep and has the option to sleep more but......... is not tired ?? so i do apologize if my mind is secretly tired and makes this intro,,,, even worse than it would be fahouedn. on with the show !! anyway anyway!! feel free to like this if u wld like 2 plot and i will hit u up!!

( also, for some vibes if you so choose to read, here’s the link to her playlist ! )

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

QUICK FACTS:

full name: alice audrey adams

date of birth: october 26th, 1997

*will not perfectly reflect the zodiac big three below because that’s.... math.

zodiac big three: scorpio sun, virgo moon, taurus rising

gender & pronouns: cis woman & she/her

sexual orientation: bisexual

education: ged, bachelor’s degree in film — pratt institute

enneagram: 4w3

mbti: enfp

temperament: sanguine-melancholic

label: the mask

various inspirations: “nutshell” - alice in chains, “santa monica” - everclear, “polly” - nirvana, “jennifer’s body” - hole, “creep” - stone temple pilots, kate wallis ( cruel summer - shhhh ), heather davis ( crazy ex-girlfriend ), satana hellstrom ( marvel comics ), bojack horseman - without the amount of problematic ego ( bojack horseman ), eddie huang ( fresh off the boat ), the great britney spears evolution ( temporarily stopping at circus era )

BACKSTORY:

triggers in order: toxic family dynamic, grooming (nothing super in-depth), kidnapping (? like it was ‘willing’ but no. see next trigger for why), toxic “relationship” (and 11yr age gap w/ a 16y/o we hate it), straight-up captivity, very brief mention of suicide + heroin (very!)

*would like to quickly preface that this isn’t just Dark for the sake of being r/im14andthisisdeep but that’s for a later time **(also! i have markers for where the grooming + Super Dark parts begin and end! -- also, the Super Dark part is all very public knowledge. had articles. media frenzy. first thing that comes up if you google her name) *** also. if u need it then a tl;dr is below this section hfkldsa

alice audrey adams was born to the type of family that names all of their children alliterative names ( however, they sadly didn’t get their own kardashian-style show )... alexis adams (working name, utp if taken as a wc)... alfie allison adams (working name, utp if taken as a wc)... born to anna adams and allen adams... we hate it here.

as u can see... all of the kids were basically named after allen... they all had ‘al’ names.... extremely confusing 

plot-twist: THAT’S the darkest part

the adams were very concerned with public image. as a family in the upper echelon, they simply had to be! a narcissist father, a distant mother, put in competition with her siblings — there was no truly healthy dynamic in the household. but they looked good. they went to church every sunday, a ‘wwjd’ sticker on the back of her mother’s car. they did just enough activities and took just enough trips together to get the image across. they threw parties. they attended parties. they were the picture perfect american family — they even had two cats in the yard! life used to be so hard! 

of course, in reality, this all left ms alice quite the lonely gal. but don’t worry! she didn’t turn to hedonism! lord no! instead, she turned to other people. a lot of friendships — couldn’t tell if they were real or #fortheclout — but at a point, did it matter? 

grooming tw: it all came to a screeching halt when she met luke johnson, the son of their neighbors. he came back from california to georgia to visit family, care for his ailing father. oh, he was a good man! sure, he was ‘somewhat’ older than her — 27 when she was 16 — but he was such a good, handsome young man! and they were all still calling him young man, after all. 

alice ‘began’ a torrid affair with luke after about a month into his visit. although she saw no immediate wrong in it, he insisted she keep it a secret ‘for the time being’ — which really just made it all the more exciting! he made all the storm clouds that hovered disappear.

one day, the levee broke for alice (still figuring out what exactly happened because i don’t wanna go too dark since this is already extremely dark, but trust that it had something to do with her parents and was just enough to push her over the edge). convinced luke was the only safe person, she turned to him. knowing their small community would catch on and essentially exile him, he took that opportunity to convince her to go back to santa monica with him where they could ‘start anew’ after his father’s death.

there are a few details i plan on adding regarding like. how legality playing into it. but i may just reserve those for an official bio lhakfsdfj

**BEGINNING OF SUPER DARK** for a while, there was the question of whether they should consider it a kidnapping or not. she went with him willingly, but she was still underage (and… you know, that age difference… the power dynamic... gross y’all). the adams insisted that it was (bc it basically was lbr) — primarily because it would make them look far better — but the community still questioned the logistics and legalities of it all… ugh. did the police really wanna deal with that? ugh. 

in any case, on the other side of us america, autumn was nearing. alice would have the very occasional inquiry over how school would work (very occasional! don’t worry, luke!), over the logistics of her new life… and, after receiving multiple calls from various friends (in addition to her siblings) that sounded genuine, began wondering… if she’d made the right choice. questions about him.

when she began bringing up the idea of going back — at least for the school year!! — he would continuously remind her that she was not old enough to buy herself a plane ticket (and he was not about to do that). she also couldn’t rent a car yet (and he certainly wouldn’t let her take (one of) his car(s)!). but most importantly? he loved her. and she loved him. (what a creep!)

so, for a hot second, it seemed like she was stuck. damn legalities!! damn love!! you know, until she texted her older sister back with all of the problems that only being 16... and “in love”.... caused. her sister offered to fly down, buy her a plane ticket, and fly back with her. 

when luke saw this (with all the unrestricted access to her phone he had so he could block, delete, and manipulate as he pleased), he confronted her. things went awry. she wound up in his budding wine cellar (which he soon emptied, of course… those merlots :( ….). he messaged back and, as her, said it was actually all good!! luke had figured out the logistics and she could call whenever she wanted!!

and those calls became frequent! because she would pick up when luke held it up to her! because she was pretty sure luke would kill her if she didn’t!

she wasn’t sure how long it was until she was officially Found. it took what was ruled a suicide by luke, a shot to the head and heroin in his system, to finally get any authority’s attention. all she knew was that she went to santa monica in mid june and she stopped seeing regular daylight by late july. so some time in august to some time in april… **END OF SUPER DARK + GROOMING**

she was returned to georgia shortly after and everything was different. from herself to her friends. but everything was also the same. from her room to her family. it was all… teasing. she began going to therapy, but she really sucked at it?? so she just let her therapist rely on various articles that covered the event. because it had been a media circus. good enough, amirite?? 

she didn’t have the will or patience to put on that peppy facade she’d had before, but there were still a few things she found a smidge of joy in. music (although her taste had… slightly altered and wow! it’d been almost a year since she’d picked up that bass!), videography… just those small things, you know?? 

for the first half of the ~ 2014 fall semester ~, she attempted actual school. really was not working out. with, for probably the first and only time, her parents’ approval and understanding, she dropped out and studied for a ged -- shorter and self-led -- instead. 

she passed with a pretty decent grade... but it’s been argued that she really shouldn’t have gotten into pratt institute (she was at least realistic and didn’t apply to, like… cornell), but she did. national news helps. 

while in the concrete jungle where dreams are made of, she learned of masters. she submitted an application as a joke — because her grades sucked!!!!! — but guess who got a job?? oh, she could pretend it was because her selected portfolio was actually genuinely good… but, man… we all know…

fun fact: my uncle applied to harvard as a joke. some twenty-five years later, we still haven’t heard back :\

she… continues to suck. like… she kinda wants the place to eventually burn down?? figuratively speaking (or is it…) but ya, for all the monopolizing she has seen turn people Evil?? but the hell can she do about it… just gotta make sure she keeps her in-house videographer job… maybe she can do something about it when she like… is capable. fuaihoelwdjkn

she sees an in-house therapist and i’d say ‘good for her,’ but it was mandated l m a o 

doesn’t talk about herself all that much!! but that might not matter for some people, yk?? ugh journalism <3 

y’all im so bad at ending intros.

TL;DR:

(consult above trigger list): bright kid in a super rich and toxic family because obviously. everything they did was just to look good <3 also they all had ‘a’ names which is the biggest tragedy of all :( ‘fell in love’ when she was 16ys/o with a 27y/o who was visiting to care for his father in his final days. had a torrid affair. creep. creep (luke) basically made her ‘fall in love.’ she thought creep was the only safe person at one point and creep was like ‘wanna go back 2 santa monica w me?’ and she was like ‘yes.’ and everyone was like ‘was this kidnapping... we cant tell....’ then he became even more possessive when she started questioning him and some logistics. when she finally found a way she could go back to georgia for a spell, he was like ‘no u can go in my wine cellar btw i will be taking all of the wine out.’ he kept her there from august to april and... only reason he didnt keep keeping her was bc he was Caught so. back to georgia where the devil went down. everything was Worse. even the things that were the same. but hey, the sob story that landed her in the news plenty of times got her into a college she shouldn’t have gotten into and gave her a leg-up in a joke application for a job at masters (in-house videographer). really bad at doing her work but like... fuck the man i guess?? 

PERSONALITY + HEADCANONS:

has no time for Fake Nice (which, as a born southerner, she’s really good at sniffing out!). has no time for arrogance. kind of makes her at odds with the nyc upper class...

on that note, still got a lil bit of some georgia twang

she lets herself indulge in various vices, but has left a previous hedonist status. weed and alcohol are still pretty common, but everything else is kept at arm’s length.

also, while on that topic, she Does Not drink wine. being trapped in a cellar... kinda makes u averse. like. literally despises it. will go on autopilot and make it KNOWN if offered wine.

also ALSO while on that topic, after looking it up and seeing she fits the new york city requirements, she has a medical marijuana card <3 the one good thing, if u ask her, to come out of therapy/psychiatry <3 will not show it off unless absolutely NECESSARY bc then it gets personal or <3 will lie about why and say it’s like for epilepsy or sumn unless ur rolfe but <3 she has it <3

at odds with herself. enjoys the company of others, definitely has a history of being an extrovert, but has become very selective with the company she keeps. 

VERY private person! has had enough public standing! 

...has occasionally used her story to advance her tho bc it’s her national newsworthy tragic story and she can exploit it if she wants <3

when good charlotte said “i don’t wanna be in love”?? she felt that. her last ‘relationship’ ruined that for her <3 save her <3 

used to be really into pop! bc pop is fun! she loved some britney (i mean... she still does... how can u not!)! but. her taste has changed drastically. rarely listens to pop. has traded britney for like.... hole and the like.

her parents didn’t use this as the basis for her name but,, 2 me,,, she’s named alice for a reason <3 gotta luv alice in chains <3

y’all i found a youtube comment on a video called ‘nirvana - half the man i used to be’ (the song was, in fact, ‘creep’ by stone temple pilots) and it’s <3 her music taste <3 click here for it <3

the above said, dresses like she’s in seattle in the early 90s. 

her rumor is true btw she DID catfish david hasselhoff and she will proudly tell u. it’s her best accomplishment.

completely stopped talking to her parents and got cut-off a while back ago so now she’s livin like the Prols

which is how a rich kid one of my profs once advised referred to his classmates.... hilarity ensues.

the above in mind, her parents say she’s testing the waters as a ‘normal person’ to save face. they can’t have anyone knowing their family isn’t perfect <3

she has a pet turtle whom she named “dr. turtle,” although he’s constantly referred to as “doc” or “the doc.” he has his own youtube channel and tiktok account.

she has a wall full of evidence that courtney love did not kill kurt cobain... it makes sense, believe me.

became a vegetarian...... partially because it was different from her original life and a way to control something, partially because this commercial made her feel SO BAD.

literally her default mode is stoned like... a totally sober alice is rarer than a nessie sighting

when she was 18, before she could ‘hold her liquor’ as well as she can now, she got a lil too drunk and now has a portrait tattoo of courtney love on her forearm. but it was done well at least!!

kind of ironic considering her career, but RARELY posts on any social media site except twitter. after the media circus in 2014 and All Eyes On Her, she’s just..... so tired...... of ppl seeing her face and being like ‘omg ur that wine cellar bitch!’

(drugs tw) has become more and more Addicted to playing around with fate. j chill on a ledge, talkin to some pals, but deciding it’s a good idea to swing her legs on the wrong side of ledge? totally! mixing a lot of alcohol with opioids which she is not accustomed to? DEF!! (end tw)

more to come!!

CONNECTION IDEAS:

i have two (2) queued up!! but while we wait for them to post, i’ll just… link them over here: 1, 2

muse u <3 the other half of her subplot from the main <3

her older sister!

her younger sibling!

some of the basics!! you know: close pal, roommate, drug buddies (but she gotta hit them up), fwb, ons, frenemies, enemy

ppl who recognize her from the 2014 luke johnson articles and have either brought it up or,,,,,,, act Awkward™

cld be fun 2 just have like. a jam bud. someone who plays any instrument and they j. jam sometimes.

ppl she sells. some of her medical marijuana to. bc yk what weed may be legal in nyc now but,,,, she’s still found a way to be broke she will accept anything. and also it just became legalized THIS YEAR so!!

i have a budding wc page @ https://escxpiism.tumblr.com/wcs (and when i say budding, i MEAN budding) so feel free 2 check it out!!

more to come!!

[saltytyrus]

hi, ariana! if the losers were a superhero group what would their powers be and how would they have gotten together? would they be popular as heroes or would they be considered vigilantes/menaces?

Hi!!! I had a lot of fun with this, thank you for sending it in Jack! 🤗 

Powers - I honestly kinda struggled here and couldn't choose just one for some (also warning, some are about to be very unoriginal :') 

Bill - Super strength (imo it's very useful but also... kinda basic??? it just feels right 😂) + force field generation

Ben - Invisibility

Bev - Pyrokinesis + telepathy

Eddie - Super speed

Mike - Memory manipulation + Panmnesia 

Stan - Zoolingualism (?? basically just the ability to communicate with animals bec!! imagine him with an army of loyal crows! he would always have a friend, this reddit thread is literally Stan living his best life :')

on top of that, just mind reading in general. He'd probably have a never again rule set in place after making the mistake of reading Richie's once. the material for that is endless 👌

ALSO, I'm being greedy but I'd love for him to have serenity inducement (here's to hoping that I'm getting all these powers/words right 😂)  

Richie - Telekinesis + Teleportation (he would have so much fun with it) 

Popular as heros or as vigilantes / menaces?

I think out of all of them Bill would definitely be a popular hero. I can see him actively and constantly seeking out situations where he can help people. 

While for the other losers, I can see them just trying to lead normal lives. I don't think they would be all that interested in being put on a pedestal or in a spotlight (of any kind). And it's not to say that they wouldn't use their powers to help someone out if need be, just that they wouldn't go out of their way with a purpose of finding something/someone to save. 

But also!!! because of Bill, they would find themselves often tagging along to make sure his dumbass doesn't die 😂 like one week it could be bill, richie & bev, and another just bill & eddie or ben etc depending on whatever he's trying to accomplish

Apart from that I think they all could easily end up being seen as vigilantes/menaces at some point. They would 100% set out to change/fix a system that they see actively harming people instead of helping, and because of that it would be a toss up on who sees them as a hero or vigilante/menace.

How they came together: 

This is where I both blanked and somehow ended up over complicating it 😭 

my brain refused to imagine them ever being separate and unaware of each other, so I was going to stick with them being school/childhood friends

but then I thought of a sky high situation where powers (if any at all) come in randomly throughout teenage years

So for this version powers would come in from age 17-20. The losers would be completely unaware of each other & Georgie still would've died as a kid, but instead by getting hit by a car while out playing. Bill would have a constant need to try and save people and it would later on be a double edged sword because: 

I thought it would be fun to bring Pennywise into this. The losers would each have a neibolt version of themselves that would come out once their powers came in. They'd mirror their abilities, but would only be as strong as the individual loser based on however much they'd use/practice their power. 

(I would probably have to change Stan's power to shape shifting for this to justify the random spider head running around town 😂)

Every single loser would end up being viewed (/framed) as a vigilante/menace of varying extents at some point. And because of Bill's power usage, Neibolt Bill would end up on top- both with being the strongest and fucking up the most shit around town 😭

The neibolt crimes would start out extremely small, like barely even punishable or noticeable aside from those around to actually witness it due to the losers themselves newly having powers.

But as it would add up the losers would begin to receive more and more dirty looks from peers & strangers and rumors would eventually follow. The losers would get so used to being accused of shit at a certain point that it would just roll off their backs. They'd probably chalk it up to bullies targeting them. 

For Richie maybe it would even result in a cop visit to his house- but with nothing more coming of it due to having a solid alibi.

It would be annoying but bearable up until the moment that the rumors got swapped out for video evidence as the crimes became more and more frequent + serious.

I feel like Ben, Mike, and Stan wouldn't surpass the rumor phase while Bill, Richie, Bev and Eddie's neibolt half would definitely land themselves on tape due to their excessive power usage in comparison. 

I love Eddie, he's my favorite character but the idea of him being the first of them to end up on tape is sending me. And it wouldn't even necessarily be over anything crime related, but something extremely embarrassing. Like imagine his neibolt self being found casually lounging in a dumpster on trash day and making the news over it. Just a story along the lines of "halted trash collections earlier this morning due to grimy teenager (Derry news would be that shitty imo 😂) found asleep in a dumpster. We're told that workers had to forcibly remove him after twenty minutes of refusal to leave" 

And with his powers, Neibolt Eddie would've zipped away as soon as he was set on the ground before anyone could've even done anything with him or offered to take him somewhere. 

...I am once again making a disclaimer that I love Eddie dearly, because what if the night before that he had done a little act of rebellion against Sonia & dyed his hair blonde, which in turn just ended up making him look even more guilty 😭

Okay, now for how they actually end up meeting:

For everything to work Bill would probably have to be one of the last to get powers (otherwise he'd end up on the news within months due to his usage & it wouldn't work for how I want it to play out)

Bev and Richie would definitely be one of the first two to get their powers & meet. Richie would randomly teleport into the convenience store she was working at, all out of breath and crouching behind some shelves. Initially she'd be spooked by his random pop in but would take pity, whether it was out of boredom or curiosity, and offer him a hiding space behind the counter (which he'd immediately accept & hop over for some reason despite probably being able to teleport behind it). After some small talk and Richie telling her that he was being chased by Bowers over some shit he didn't do, they'd come to find the common ground of being the brunt end of recent Derry high rumors and from there they'd stick together.

They would later track down the others (minus bill & eddie) by following frequent rumors with the goal of seeing if the same shit was happening to them as well. 

6/7 losers would only realize that everything probably wasn't exactly a rumor once the crimes start getting recorded/aired. They would have Eddie's experience on the news to support the "devil duplicate" theory they'd come to after seeing Bill Denbrough, Derry's beloved hero and now apparent villain make the news. From there they'd set out to track down Bill to find out wtf is happening.

_

my brain is absolutely f r i e d, but I'm jumping back to go over how they found Eddie as a treat for myself  :')

there are 2 versions, not all that different from each other, but one just really highlights Eddie's (knowingly or not) continuous pining over Richie. It 100% follows his neibolt dumpster news report & unfortunate hair-dying-timing.  

Scenario #1 is Richie and Bev walking into the theater to see a (much cleaner!) blonde Eddie. Beverly would manage to keep Richie from immediately running up into his row, but would find her efforts useless five minutes into the previews when he teleports himself into a seat next to Eddie, nearly scaring him half to death. He'd playfully lean on the arm rest with a dopey smile like

"I personally favor the dumpsters up in Bangor but hey, I'm all for going local if you'd like to show me around sometime."

(??idk.idk.idk 😂 originally his opener was just "hey, weren't you on the news recently?" but eh). So anyways, Eddie would be a mess, nearly popping a blood vessel but would later find himself near tears of laughter due to Richie's commentary throughout the movie. Bonus if he tried holding in his laughter out of spite to the point that he broke with a full on snort and turned to see Richie staring straight ahead at the screen, red cheeked & beaming, already preparing his next joke.

Scenario #2 is that Richie works at the Aladdin for the concession stand and recognizes Eddie as he steps up to pay. Opening with "I dig the new look" (referring to his hair that's now growing brown at the roots) and Eddie's confused because he's 98% sure that he's never seen this person before but it clicks immediately as Eddie watches the shit eating grin grow on Richie's face. Eddie, wanting nothing more than to run away again, simply stays put and mumbles out that it wasn't him

And the last response he ever expects to hear is an "okay", sounding just genuine enough for him to look up and see a much softer smile.

It would catch him off guard, having someone finally believe him, or at least not openly fight him on it (even if he's sure that Richie is just humoring him) that he'd often find himself showing up to the theater thirty minutes before his movie, just hovering over the stands by Richie. Clinging to the excuse that it was just someone to talk to while he waited away from the harsh summer weather and the grips of his mother.

Panic wouldn't set in until the day that Richie asks him what movie he's waiting for and completely blanks, not having the slightest clue until peeking down at his ticket.

[papermoonloveslucy]

NEW LIFE IN LUCY

July 20, 1952

By WILL JONES, Minneapolis Tribune Staff Writer 

WITH HER SECOND BABY on the way and her second career in its peak, Lucille Ball is busy trying to make the facts of real life jibe with the facts of TV life. 

The complications are going to affect all fans of the nation's No. 1 TV star -  particularly those in Minneapolis. 

Her pregnancy may delay the return of her TV program, "I Love Lucy," to the air this fall, for one thing. 

And it has already meant, for sure, that she won't be in Minneapolis for the Aquatennial. (1)

"I Love Lucy," now off the air for the summer, is supposed to resume Sept. 8. Miss Ball and her husband and co-star, Desi Arnaz, are trying to stall the starting date until sometime in October. (2)

Exactly what good that will do when her baby isn't due until January is one of those facts of TV life that will take some explaining. Miss Ball explained a few things to me in Hollywood last week, and I'll try to pass them long. 

Movie studios have been known to speed up shooting schedules of single pictures to accommodate motherhood. But Miss Ball can't shoot 39 films (3) in a hurry, before her condition begins to show. It already shows. 

BY THE TIME I had my talk with Miss Ball, the full Impact of the news had already hit her and her organization; They already had decided - with kibitzing from the Columbia Broadcasting System, the sponsor, and other interested parties - one big point: 

Miss Ball's unborn child, come winter, is going to have to be part of the act. 

They were in the midst of working out some of the details. Scripts for all of next season's "I Love Lucy" programs already had been outlined when Miss Ball discovered her condition. The outlines have been set aside, and the writers have been told to think up some funny new slapstick routines for an enceinte heroine. 

Fortunately, "I Love Lucy" is a Mr.-and-Mrs. program. Its family comedy, while often outlandish, has been accepted by its fans as still being pretty true-to-life. 

There should be enough funny situations involving expectant couples to keep the subject from getting tiresome. 

IMPENDING PARENTHOOD isn't a new subject for comedy, but there has been little of it on TV, there hasn't been much on radio and it's been rare in the movies. 

And there's never been an expectant mother quite like Miss Ball. 

Even if it were possible to hide her condition - other actresses have accomplished it with the aid of special costuming, trick lighting and such devices as keeping partially hidden behind furniture and bushes - Miss Ball would be against it.

"If I turned up one week suddenly standing still behind some camouflage, it wouldn't be me," she said. "It'd be a fraud. I've got to move around." 

Miss Ball had just come from a visit to her doctor when I saw her at her orange ranch in the San Fernando valley, about an hour's drive from Hollywood. (4) She had been discussing her condition with CBS executives, as well as with her doctor, on the same visit to town. 

"The doctor told me the baby's going to come a little earlier than we expected," she said. "He says about Jan. 15. (5) He also told me I could work as long as I feel all right. 

"At first we thought I might have to quit work in October. Now I don't know."

WORKING BEFORE the cameras while with child isn't entirely a new experience for Miss Ball. She was pregnant when she made the "I Love Lucy" audition film that won her and Arnaz their present contract with the network and sponsor. 

But her year-old daughter, Lucie Desiree, was born before she had to go on the air with the new series. 

Five of this fall's programs are already filmed. ("I Love Lucy" normally is shot five weeks before it goes on the air, so Miss Ball and Arnaz were five programs ahead before they started their summer vacation.) (6) They plan to resume shooting in a week or so. That will put them 10 programs ahead by Sept. 8, the date they're scheduled to return.

If they get to postpone the program a month they'll have a 14-week backlog of films by the time it starts. Some of the best of last year's programs will be rerun during the weeks Miss Ball won't be able to work. (7) Just how much of a part the baby will play in "I Love Lucy" after it arrives is matter that hasn't been decided.

"I ASKED THAT QUESTION down at CBS this afternoon, and all I got was blank stares," said Miss Ball. 

"I'm sure we won't have a situation involving the baby every week, though." 

"You could have a funny baby sitter for a character," put in a her publicity man, Ken Morgan who also is her brother-in-law. "You could build a very funny program around a funny baby sitter." 

"I'm sure we could," said Miss Ball. She glared at him with mock ferocity: "And what do I do while the baby sitter is being funny?" 

Arnaz, a real-life rumba bandleader, plays a rumba bandleader named Ricky Ricardo on "I Love Lucy." The plots usually Involve the wacky things that happen when his wife, Lucy, tries too hard to help him get ahead. 

Although the names have been changed, and the Amazes' private life isn't anything like the Ricardos'. TV life, followers still associate the performers closely with the roles. 

As long as they're forced to bring one child Into their TV world, I wondered If they might not try to get their TV life in line with their private life. 

"That's another question I asked at CBS this afternoon," said Miss Ball. "They didn't have an answer for that, either, "Everybody's been on vacation. We haven't even had a chance to sit down and talk these things over yet." 

THEY'VE TALKED over a few things, of course. Miss Ball showed me an "I Love Lucy" baby - a doll set with clothes, feeding equipment, soap, gadgets, etc. - that has been put together by a toy manufacturer in anticipation of the event. The set includes a letter about the baby from Lucy and Ricky. (8)

"It blows bubbles, wets its pants, everything," said Miss Ball proudly. She also played a record, "There's a Brand New Baby at Our House." ("...she's changed our happy house to a home..."), sung by Desi. He wrote the music when Lucie was born. A friend, Eddie Maxwell, wrote the words. (9)

Desi hasn't made any records for a long time, so nothing much happened with the tune. The recording companies are after him again since the success of "I Love Lucy," however, and "Brand New Baby" may be his first new record. (10)

The sudden success of "I Love Lucy" - in one season, it topped Arthur Godfrey, Milton Berle and Red Skelton (11) in all popularity ratings - has left the Amazes amazed. 

I was sitting in Morgan's office when he got the news that "Lucy" had hit a rating of 70 - an unheard-of-high figure in one of the TV popularity-rating surveys.

Arnaz came into the office at that moment Morgan told him the news. 

ARNAZ LOOKED WORRIED. "You're kidding," he said. 

"That crazy Cuban is scared," confided Morgan after Arnaz had left the office. "He doesn't know what to make of all this. He thinks of all those people tuning in, and he worries." 

In 20 years as a movie star, Miss Ball never had the acclaim she's had in one year on television. 

"People stop me on the street and talk to me now," she said. "That never happened when I was in movies. I was in Ohrbach's this afternoon, and I had to ride up and down four times In the elevator just listening to people tell me about the show. 

"The only time people In the street bothered to talk to me before was when I made ‘The Big Street.' (12) But It was nothing like what's happened In the past year. And Desi and I are the two most grateful people in the world. 

"You have no Idea what It's meant to us. We're real hams, you know." 

BESIDES GLORY, "I Love Lucy" also has meant shorter hours and a happy home life for Mr. and Mrs. Arnaz. Before TV, Lucille had to get up at 5:30 or 6 every morning to go to the studio. She didn't get home until 7 or 7:30 p.m. and she was exhausted. If Desi wasn't on the road with his band, she had to go to a nightclub to be with him In the evening. 

Their marriage almost broke up because of the schedule. Lucille once filed for divorce, but never followed through. (13) In the movies, Miss Ball had to work five or six long days a week. Now she puts in four eight-hour days. 

Arnaz, who Is president of their company, Desilu Productions, has to attend to production and business matters in addition to his acting. That usually means a 10- or 12-hour day for him. But he, too, insists on a three-day week-end. 

"We don't think about the show we don't even mention it from Friday night to Tuesday morning," said Miss Ball. "They wanted me to look at the scripts a week ahead, so they'd have more time to work on the clothes. I design all my own. But I wouldn't even do that, for fear I'd start worrying about next week's show over the week-end." 

AS VICE PRESIDENT of Desilu productions, Miss Ball gets a chair on the set with "Veep" printed on back. Occasionally she signs some papers. "But may I say that I don't know what I'm looking at?" she said. 

Desilu now is producing the TV version of "Our Miss Brooks," starring Eve Arden, which will go on the air this fall. (14) As executive producer, Arnaz has had to be on hand during much of the "Miss Brooks" filming this summer. 

"But all I hafta do," said Miss Ball, "is go over and pat Brooksie on the shoulder now and then and ask her where she got those clothes. She comes in with some wonderful things." 

"Our Miss Brooks" is being filmed exactly the same way as "I Love Lucy." It's a combination of movies, TV and summer stock, a system worked out by Desilu. 

The Amazes are especially proud of it because, before they started, everybody told them it wouldn't work. Nobody figured a couple of actors could run a complex producing organization. 

They film their shows in an independent movie studio that was all but abandoned before they moved in. (15) Now the place is bustling with other TV people, including Burns and Allen, who are copying the Desilu system.

BLEACHER SEATS for 300 people were built into one side of the sound stage. Part of one wall was cut out to make a street entrance for the audience. A small sign, “Desilu Playhouse," hung on a wrought-iron support outside, adds to the summer-stock atmosphere. 

The schedule goes roughly like this: Tuesday is devoted to learning the script, which al ways runs more than 40 pages. Miss. Ball sketches her clothes and gives the designs to the dressmaker. 

There are rehearsals Wednesday. The program is rehearsed straight through, like a play. Thursday there's a full dress rehearsal, with cameras and lights. There's a bull session afterwards, with the writers present, to weed out the weak spots. 

When the program started audiences were invited to the dress rehearsals, but Lucille and Desi found they got all worked up and gave better performances Thursday night than they did on Friday, when the program is actually filmed. 

NOW THEY RELY on the laughs of the crew on Thursday nights to tell them what to keep in and what to change. 

Three movie cameras, moving in and out among the actors like TV cameras, record the Friday night performance. The program is played straight through, the only stops being for costume changes. The audience is allowed to whoop it up as much as it wants. Audience laughter is recorded and used in the final soundtrack. 

The photographer, Karl Freund, a roly-poly man with a thick German accent, was all but retired when Miss Ball asked trim to film their show. She liked the way he had photographed her at MGM. ("We fought like cats and dogs, but when it came off on the screen, I never looked lovelier.") 

He spent a week in New York studying TV methods, decided everybody there was all wet, and dreamed up his own system. (Freund was the first Hollywood cameraman ever to move a camera during a scene, mounting it on a rubber-tired arrangement known as a dolly. Without his invention "I Love Lucy" now would take two or three times as long to shoot. Many inventions now incorporated in Hollywood studio cameras are his, too.) 

ARNAZ' STUDIO CHAIR has "Prez" painted on back. (When Freund wants him, however, he Just yells for "Young man with old face!" Arnaz' black hair is shot with gray that doesn't show on TV.) 

William Frawley and Vivian Vance, the character actors who play the couple next door, have special chairs, too. Frawley's is labeled "William Frawley, Boy Actor." Miss Vance's label is "Vivian Vance, Girl Actress." Their work is admired so much around Desilu that they got a raise before they ever asked for it. 

"I don't know how long they're signed up for," said Miss Ball, "but by God if it isn't for a long time, I'll have to speak to Desi." There's a sign in the Desilu rehearsal hall: "anyone that enjoys work can have a hell of a good time in this institution." Everybody, apparently, does. 

There's a board with names of the cast members painted on it. There are gold stars stuck behind the names. Anybody who gets off a good crack, goofs, or otherwise relieves the tension that, comes with the hard work gets a gold star. 

ON SHOW NIGHTS, Arnaz, cook and gourmet, serves everybody in the crew a big dinner in the rehearsal hall. The Amazes have a bungalow on the lot in which they live during the day. The living room is decorated with water colors of and oil paintings by Miss Ball, who goes in for landscapes when she paints. (16)

There's also a large dressing room and a bright yellow kitchen. They stayed there over night during Los Angeles' floods a few months ago, (17) but otherwise they go home to the ranch every night. 

"I hate to get up in the morning in the same place I'm going to work all day," said Miss Ball. 

An extra project is under way at the Desilu studios this summer. The TV show has caused so much talk that people in non-TV areas have demanded to see what all the conversation is about. 

Three of the best "Lucy" programs from last season have been selected for showing in theaters in areas not yet reached by TV. They're being tied together with a story about a couple who have trouble getting tickets to the program. (18) (That's a real problem. Handling tickets got to be such a headache that Desilu turned over ticket distribution to CBS. Now the people at Desilu often can't get their friends in.) 

The "I Love Lucy" feature movie is being put together by Ed Sedgwick, a director who used to make some of Miss Ball's movie comedies. I've never considered Lucille a comedienne." Sedgwick told me. "She's a comic. There's a difference." 

SUCCESS OF "I Love Lucy" has opened the way for all kinds of other sidelines. Desi wears smoking jacket. Tailors want him to spearhead a campaign to revive the smoking jacket. Other clothing men spotted the narrow lapels on all his suits, and want him to endorse Desi Arnaz narrow lapels. (19)

Manufacturers want Miss Ball's clothing designs. There's a line of Lucille Ball blouses being readied. Now, of course they're talking maternity dresses, too. (20)

Another outfit is ready to put out Desi Arnaz bongo drums. (21) "Ethel" (Vivian Vance) wore an old-fashioned kitchen garment known as a swirl on one program. Now there's, a merchandising tie-up for "I Love Lucy" swirls. (22)

Even before word got around about Miss Ball's upcoming maternity, doll manufacturers were proposing deals. So there's going to be a red-headed Lucille Ball doll. (23)

Since one-third of the pro grams fans are figured to be small fry, the doll is expected to be a popular item. Morgan, a native of Devil’s Lake, N.D. looks after most of such details. And then there's talk of an "I Love Lucy" radio program. Miss Ball was on the air with "My Favorite Husband" a few seasons ago, but radio acting is a new experience for Desi. 

THERE'S A POSSIBILITY the sound tracks of old TV programs may be used for a new radio program, with some narration to fill in what the audience can't see. (24)

So, with all the success, has come more and more yearning to get away from on week-ends. 

The Amazes figure they see enough of each other during the week. So, although they're homebodies, they do quite a bit of getting away from each other on week-ends. 

Miss Ball usually sticks to the ranch, a quiet, five-acre place lush with vegetation. The orange groves are there because they look nice. "You know, I've never eaten one of our oranges," said Miss Ball. "I tasted one once, and it was so sour I couldn't finish it. We get our oranges at the market." 

They have a deal with the Sunkist people, who tend the crop, harvest it and keep the place in shape in exchange for the oranges. 

Arnaz, who has a mania for fishing, spends all or part of every week-end on his 35-foot fishing boat. He doesn't shave when he's fishing. He was away on the boat when I visited the ranch. 

MISS BALL was out back, in a cluttered yard she calls "the farmer's market," sitting in a wooden lawn chair. She looked tired. Her face, in the evening light and against her shocking-pink hair, looked paler than it probably was. Her mother, Mrs. Desiree Ball, was looking after Lucie, who was toddling around the edge of the swimming pool. Three frisky spaniels bounded up to meet me. 

Miss Ball called them away sharply. "They stink," she said. While we talked, she watched nervously to see that they didn't knock the baby into the pool. 

Presently Mrs. Ball said good-by, and headed for the house with Lucie. "Tell Ethel I want a demitasse!" Miss Ball called after her. "And tell her I want it to get rid of the garlic she put in the meat!" (25)

After she settled down with the coffee, she said: "There's one thing I really like about television. I don't have to worry about glamor any more. Well, my hair is still combed. But I don't have to worry if it isn't." 

From her chair, she started conducting a visual tour of the place, pointing out behind her an overgrown shelter with lawn furniture Inside. ("It's some kind of a Cuban hut that Desi built. I think they call it a bohio.") She pointed, too, to a huge outdoor fireplace. ("Desi built that, too. But we found out it's too far from the house. We don't use It any more.") 

Across the swimming pool she pointed out a strange lath structure, also built by Desi. "We never found out what he had in mind," she said. "We've never used it for anything." 

We walked across the lawn to inspect one of Arnaz' more practical bits of carpentry: a place they call a bathhouse, which is really a huge cottage used for parties. It has a long rumpus room, finished in dark pine, with a film projection room at one end, and a behind-the-bar kitchen that's exclusively Desi's. It's fitted with a large, black, old-fashioned gas oven, another barbecue and outsize copper utensils. 

Miss Ball peered suspiciously into a huge copper kettle on the stove. "Desi uses this for soup, she said. "He spent three years getting the recipe from Antoine's."  (26)

When Arnaz cooks, he always makes a large mess. He never cleans it up. 

"I enjoy spoiling my husband," said Miss Ball, "and he enjoys spoiling me. I don't expect him to clean up." She thought a moment. "I don't know what he doesn't expect of me." 

She pointed out a mounted marlin of which he's proud, some built-in seats he designed and constructed, and then led the way to the house. It was dark outside now. 

"Be careful," she said. “There are wires on these trees, and people are always falling down." 

INSIDE THE HOUSE, in a long tile-floored room facing the yard, we came across a third barbecue. 

“Desi isn't happy unless he has a barbecue at his fingertips," she said. Another thing the Amazes are well supplied with is TV sets. They have four, including the one in the bathhouse. 

"We always watch our show," she said, "usually with friends. Monday is our canasta night. Sometime we're over at the Charlie Ruggleses, sometimes at the Dean Martins. (27) Wherever we are, we stop for a half hour to watch." 

We took a fast walk through the house. "It won't take you long to see this place," said Miss Ball, leading the way through the long early-American living room, the bedroom, Desi's study, Desi's dressing room, and then down a long corridor, past an enclosed patio, to the nursery wing. 

"Desi built this, too," she said. "We keep a carpenter here full time to help him. Since we started the show, Desi hasn't had any time for building, but we still keep the carpenter busy." 

THE NURSERY - a three-room affair designed to accommodate two children - cost more than the house itself. The center room Is a gleaming-white, clinical-looking place Miss Ball calls "the laboratory." 

It's loaded with sterilizing equipment, kitchen equipment and laundry equipment. The Amazes keep a nurse, as well as a maid-cook and the carpenter. Desi's mother and Mrs. Ball both live nearby, and look in frequently, so Lucie gets plenty of attention when her parents are at the studio. 

Miss Ball has taken her to the studio for visits, but never takes her in for a day when she's working. Arnaz's band appears on one out of about every four "Lucy" programs. It's pretty much the same one he started with in Florida. He formed it after he broke away from Xavier Cugat in the '30s. 

The band doesn't travel or make public appearances any more, but the musicians are as glad that Arnaz has settled down as he is. They have a family life now, too. 

They work around Hollywood, playing at the movie and recording studios and at various clubs. And they're always on call when they're needed for "Lucy." 

Miss Ball and Arnaz planned to come to the Aquatennlal on the way to New York for a series of magazine interviews. One of the things that had convinced them was a two-page wire from Arthur Godfrey singing the praises of Minnesota and of Cedric Adams, who would have been their host. 

WHEN THEY found out about the baby, they still planned to come. Then Miss Ball's doctor ordered her not to. He ruled out the New York interviews, too. They went to Sun Valley instead, for a rest, but cut their visit short when they found themselves the center of attention from other guests. (28)

The act they planned to do here was one they had to dream up in order to prove to CBS that they could do "I Love Lucy." Before the program started, one of the big objections they got went like this: "Nobody will believe that Lucille Ball and Desi Arnaz are husband and wife." 

Arnaz had a simple answer: "We are." But nobody paid much attention to him. 

The two made a theater tour with a Mr.-and-Mrs. routine, just to see if audiences would accept them that way. It clicked. That's what made CBS decide to go along with their first notions about TV.

#   #   #

FOOTNOTES FROM THE FUTURE

(1) The Minneapolis Aquatennial is an annual outdoor event held in Minneapolis, Minnesota, during the third full week of July. Originating in 1940, the Minneapolis Aquatennial celebrates the city's famous lakes, rivers, and streams.

(2) Instead of September 8th, the second season of ��I Love Lucy” began on September 15, 1952, not in October as was first considered.  It kicked off with the now iconic “Job Switching” (aka Candy Factory episode), which had been filmed in late May 1952, before this article was published. 

(3) Although season one of “I Love Lucy” had produced 35 episodes (the most of any “Lucy” sitcom), season two only clocked in with 31 new episodes. If their original goal was 39, they were 8 short.  

(4) Before her Beverly Hills mansion, Lucy’s dream house was in the San Fernando Valley. Desilu Ranch, as it was called, was a ranch-style home on five acres at the intersection of Devonshire Street and Corbin Avenue in Chatsworth. The home was demolished in the mid-1970s to make way for subdivision development.

(5) Lucille Ball gave birth on January 19, 1953. Because it was a Caesarean birth, Ball had some leeway with the date. Naturally, she opted for a Monday so that her real son and her TV son could be born on the same day, making television history in the process.  

(6) The five shows that were already ‘in the can’ for Fall 1952 were:  "The Anniversary Present" (filmed May 9, 1952), “The Handcuffs” (filmed May 16, 1952), “The Operetta” (filmed May 23, 1952), “Job Switching” (filmed May 30, 1952), and “The Saxophone” (filmed June 6, 1952).  Although “Job Switching” was filmed fourth of these five, everyone knew it was a knock-out hit, and it was aired as the season 2 premiere.  This explains why the photos that accompany this article are glimpses from two as-of-then unaired episodes: “The Anniversary Present” and “The Operetta.”  

(7) Desilu also came up with Flashback Intros (filmed without Lucille Ball) to introduce repeated episodes. Fred, Ethel, and Ricky would open the show with a “remember the time...” premise and then a repeat episode would be aired. These were not included in the syndication prints, but some have turned up as DVD extras. 

(8) The ‘I Love Lucy’ baby doll was a big seller for Christmas 1952.  The doll’s gender was deliberately kept vague until after the birth of Little Ricky in January 1953, after which a new infant doll branded “Little Ricky” was released. There was also a Little Ricky puppet baby doll.

(9) “There's A Brand New Baby (at Our House)” was first sung on “I Love Lucy” in “Sales Resistance” (ILL S2;E17), the first flashback episode after Lucy went into the hospital to have the baby.  The lyricist Eddie Maxwell was the real-life husband of Eve Whitney from  “The Charm School” (ILL S3;E15).

(10)  After the above episode aired on July 26, 1953, announcer Johnny Jacobs promoted that the song (he calls “The Baby Song”) was available on Columbia Records (a division of CBS, naturally) with the “I Love Lucy” theme song on the flip side.

(11) Arthur Godfrey’s show “Talent Scouts” was “Lucy’s” lead-in on Monday nights. Godfrey himself promoted the show, asking viewers to ‘stay tuned.’ Red Skelton had a variety show on CBS, competing with NBC’s “Ed Sullivan” on Sunday nights. Milton Berle hosted “Texaco Star Theatre” on NBC, another variety program. If Monday nights belonged to Lucy, Tuesday nights were owned by Uncle Miltie. All three performers guest-starred on “Lucy” sitcoms.  The above 1953 TV Guide cover makes it clear who is top of the TV totem pole. Red Skelton is not depicted. 

(12) The Big Street was released in August 1942. If people were stopping Lucy on the street, it may have been to compliment her performance in what was her favorite film. They may have also been curious about performing in a wheelchair. 

(13) Lucille filed for divorce from Desi twice. The first time was in September 1944, citing infidelity and incompatibility.  Ball returned to him before the interlocutory decree became final, nullifying the divorce.  The second divorce, in April 1960, stuck. 

(14) “Our Miss Brooks” had been a big hit on radio starring Eve Arden and Gale Gordon, who would repeat their roles on television. Although not formally produced by Desilu, it was produced at the same studio and used many of the same actors (Gordon, Richard Crenna, Mary Jane Croft, Frank Nelson) that would appear on “I Love Lucy,” including, in one episode, Desi Arnaz. The show started one year after “Lucy” and ran one year shorter. 

(15) General Service Studios was located at 1040 North Los Palmas Avenue, in Hollywood. It started life as a movie studio in 1919, and was variously known as  American Zoetrope, Hollywood Center Studios, and now, Sunset Las Palmas Studios.  Desilu outgrew the location in 1953, and moved to larger digs known then as Ren-Mar, now Red Studios. 

(16) Not much is known about Lucille Ball’s painting pastime.  We know that she signed her paintings ‘Balzac’.  

(17) From January 13 to 18, 1952 heavy rains hit the Southern California area. On January 18 alone, 3.17” of rain fell in Los Angeles in a 24-hour period. The storm was responsible for eight deaths due to flooding in Los Angeles.

(18) The “I Love Lucy” Movie consisted of three episodes edited together: “The Benefit” (ILL S1;E13), “Breaking the Lease” (ILL S1;E18) and “The Ballet” (ILL S1;E19). New scenes were filmed to help connect the three episodes into one cohesive whole. Also, new wraparound segments were filmed. The opening segment shows the studio audience filing in for the filming. Desi Arnaz welcomes the audience and introduces the cast as he typically did before every filming. In the closing segment, Arnaz thanks the audience and Lucille Ball and the cast take their final bows. The film was given one preview before it was shelved. It may have been pressure from MGM, who had their own “Lucy” movie in the works, The Long, Long Trailer, or it may have been felt that the film diluted the television programs value. Either way, it was Lucy and Desi’s final call to shelve the project. It has since been released on DVD. 

(19 & 20) Merchandising was a big part of selling “I Love Lucy” to the public.  When actual items were not mass marketed, patterns for the items were available. Advance had the license for “I Love Lucy” patterns. 

(21) The Desi Arnaz Conga Drum (not Bongo drum) was made in 1952 by A & A American Metal Toy Company of Brooklyn, New York. It was nineteen inches high. It is one of the rarest of the original “I Love Lucy” collectibles valued at $2,000 to $5,000! 

(22) Swirl was a brand of house dress that often buttoned up the back, had pockets, and a tie belt. Vivian Vance wore several designs by Swirl on the show, including one of her famous arrow Swirls advertised in magazines and newspapers. 

(23) Long before Mattel made their Lucy Barbie, there was a Lucy Ricardo rag doll. The doll had orange hair, blue eyes, bow lips, and an apron with heart-shaped pockets, just like Lucy.  It  was given away by their sponsor Philip Morris in 1953.

(24) On February 27, 1952, a sample the “I Love Lucy” radio show was produced, but it never aired. This was created by editing the soundtrack of the television episode “Breaking the Lease”, with added Arnaz narration (in character as Ricky Ricardo).

(25) It sounds as though, quite coincidentally, Lucille Ball’s Chatsworth cook / maid was named Ethel!  Either that, or Ball is joking. 

(26) Antoine’s Restaurant was also mentioned in Eleanor Harris’s 1954 book The Real Story of Lucille Ball. 

(27) Charles Ruggles (1886-1970) was a character actor who appeared in over a hundred films. Like Lucille Ball, he made the transition to television with a series called “The Ruggles” (1949-52). He was married to Marion LaBarba. Dean Martin (1916-95) was a singer and comic actor.  He appeared as himself on “The Lucy Show,” in one of Ball’s favorite episodes. From 1949 to 1973 he was married to Jeanne Biegger, who appeared as herself on the “I Love Lucy” episode “The Fashion Show.” 

(28) Sun Valley, Idaho, was a favorite getaway location of the Arnaz family. It is a is a resort city where tourists enjoy ice skating, golfing, hiking, trail riding, cycling, tennis and (of course) skiing. The world’s first chair lift was erected in Sun Valley in 1936. Lucy and Desi set a 1958 episode of “The Lucy-Desi Comedy Hour” in Sun Valley, and even went on location to film. 

[thoughtfullyyoungduck]

This is awkward

Summary: could u maybe do a reddie x daughter where she gets her period, but wants to hide it from richie and eddie bc they’re guys, so she steals richie’s phone and calls bev for help. but like as she goes over to bevs house (maybe they live close) richie and eddie think she’s missing or lost and they freak out? i just feel like that’s such a reddie situation lmao

warnings: period talks 

In retrospect, she really should have seen it coming. All the signs they taught you about in health class presented themselves full force, from having abdominal pain and a bloating stomach after eating a cracker, to using the bathroom more than she usually has to. 

Never the less, it remained a shock when she wakes up at five in the morning to searing throbbing in her lower abdomen that leaves her helplessly whriting. The clock strikes six am at the exact moment she groans, curling her body into a fetal position and covering her stomach with her arms.

She lays still for a while, tossing and turning in an effort to find a pose that won’t hurt, but nothing helps, and so she decides to go to the medicine cabinet and fish out medication to reduce the ache. In order to do that, she removes the heavy silk comforter off her body, and shivers as her temperature reduces from the added coldness that sticks in the room. It’s nearing summer time, so the sun is gleaming up every last detail of the room even at six o’clock, rendering the lightbulb hanging from the ceiling useless.

She gets up, and as soon as turns around to readjust the comforter out of the corner of her eye she spots a red blood stain, soaked into the covers of her one person bed. Ellie’s first instinct is, embracingly enough, to cry, the sight of blood leaving her squeamish and ready to do whatever it takes to get rid of it.

Her pain tolerance is high, but the second a blotch of blood presents itself anywhere near or on her, it needs to be removed point black.  

It clicks in her mind what this situation means and what the logical explanation is, but she’s still in a daze that allows her to calmly rip the covers of the bed an paddle downstairs to the washing area, carefully avoiding to touch the blood itself, free of any panic or discomfort, beside the continues stabbing sneers. Only after disposing of the covers in the washing machine and shutting it with a small click, she sobers up and worries.

Ellie grabs a towel of a mountain of dry-cleaned clothes that Richie was ordered to organize room by room but forgot after a last minute stand up show the night before and wraps it around her middle. The towel specifically is her favorite, colored blue with the animations of winx club printed upon it, as a child her favorite cartoon show, with her name embroider on the top thanks to her uncle Mike. A trait she copied from Richie was that she lost stuff so much that Eddie got sick of it and started writing her name on article of clothes and shoes so that if someone found it they returned it to the right person, and because at the time Mike was practicing embroidery, he sowed her name in the towel as a gift.

The edges of the towel are worn out and frayed, but the texture is soft to the touch and smells like sunscreen, in a way tied to a few of Ellie’s preferred treasured memories. It’s the only at hand though, and time is of the essence, and she wants to wants desperately to avoid any more blood spillage.

Scanning the floor while hurrying to a bathroom Ellie cautions that she stays upright and doesn’t hit her toe against the doorframe like she idioticly does time and time again. She reaches the bathroom she unlocks the door from its hinches and opens it soundlessly, her parents lost in dreamland a door over. She feels weirdly docile about the whole thing, not at all trembling or making rash decision like she foresaw whenever she thought of this moment. The bathroom door shuts behind her, and she silently awaits for any sound to emerge from Eddie and Richie’s bedroom, but none materialize, thankfully.

At that point, there’s not much she can do. The house is empty of anything remotely resembling pads, with Richie and Eddie not needing them and Ellie hadn’t required them so far either.

Having two fathers is a blessing that Ellie is magnificently proud of, and most of the time she forgets that core families usually exist of one father and a mother. Richie and Eddie fill up any void that a mom could possibly leave behind, and so she is often oblivious that her home situations isn’t ‘normal’. There is nothing that a mother adds that Richie and Eddie don’t provide her, but maybe this is the one exception.

Ellie learned about menstrual cycles and how to deal with them via sex ed in school, but at home not a word was ushered about this. Unintentional no doubt, since Richie took it upon himself to bring up as much cringe-worthy conversations to shy her away from trying anything stupid. She never brought the topic up, and it must have slipped from Richie and Eddie’s mind too.

She debates waking up Richie and Eddie to drive her to the store, but it’s too early for that, the sops opens at nine, and there honestly sounds nothing worse but rousing her fathers for something like a period.

Richie will joke, and Eddie will research the whole thing down to the smallest details to aid her with all the knowledge found on the internet, but what she would really benefit from is a girl simply explaining the whole thing to her.

The solution literally falls in her lap, as Ellie accidentally knocks over the parfum Beverly left behind last time she visited. Aunt Bev and uncle Ben live two streets away, in a giant modern home they fosters pets in, at the edge of a forest.

They reside there any time they aren’t on their boat travelling around the world, but with Beverly six months into her pregnancy, they swore to not go on any outings up to the birth of their very first child.

Both Ben and Bev work every weekday, but if Bev is home, she’ll be happy to help, Ellie is certain. She should call first, to let Bev know she was on her way and to ensure Bev won’t contact the police on her, a figure appearing out of the blue early morning might not present well. The only problem with that is that Ellie’s phone was dropped in the water of a bath, cracking the phone’s screen from the hard landing and drenching it in water, causing all the phone’s functions to give out.

Calling aunt Bev is only an option if Ellie locates a phone, and her best bet on that is her pops.

Richie obsesses over his phone, and while he says that’s not the case, Eddie humorously hid it once and it send Richie in such a frenzy he explored the whole house top to bottom and discarded any and all cabinets to locate it.

Eddie chides the overexercise usage and resorts to conking Richie over the head if he dares to divided his attention to it for over ten minutes, but it’s all in a loving way, Eddie wouldn’t ever dream of hurting Richie.

A compromise was formed, Richie promising to leave his phone unattended on the bedside table at the end of the bed, and Eddie dialing down his complaints. The phone can’t ramify it’s toxic radiation from that far, but it’s close enough that the alarm clock rouses them up if necessary.

Invading Richie and Eddie’s bedroom is a dangerous game to play at, Eddie’s hearing out of this world with precision and picking up on the smallest, barely there clamor, but assisted with a tad of luck, Ellie might be able to evade waking them. After all, she’d rather get caught sneaking in, than having to provide a valid reason she ought to shop.

------

The clock strikes eight a.m. when Richie stirs awake, the light streaming through the window in such a way it glistens directly in Richie eyes, and in order to avoid it he swivels around on his stomach. His arm covers Eddie side, snoring loudly right net to his ear. Huffing out a laugh, Richie retracts his arm to cover his eyes from the sun that maliciously demands him to wake.

Eddie sniffles, his hand lifting in search for Richie and sighing happily when his fingertips bump against Richie’s shoulder, tugging his arm back in position.

‘Too early’, he grumbles, smacking his lips to rid himself of his dry mouth and burying his head further into his pillow. Richie laughs, kissing his husbands bare shoulder and readjusting Richie’s shirt he’s wearing after.

Weekends are a synonymous with rest and sleep, but Richie starts the day bright and fresh anyway, cooking a giant breakfast with Ellie to lure Eddie out of bed under the guise of food.

It strikes Richie as odd that Ellie’s not up and about it yet, he strains to hear any movement in the house but he comes up empty.

‘Aren’t you gonna make me breakfast, babe?’ Eddie asks his lips curled in a teasing smile, accustomed to their morning routine.

‘Sure thing Eds’, Richie says gooey, slobbering a kiss on the first part of Eddie he can reach, his temple, knowing that Eddie revolts the thought of kissing without brushing teeth first.

‘Wait I was kidding come back,’ Eddie whines, outstretching his arms to stop Richie from getting up but failing.

‘You’ll be so much happier when the food’s ready, trust me. I’m going to wake our munckin up too.’

He steps away from the bed, pulling his shirt, bunched up thanks to the wild gestures he performs in his sleep, down in the meanwhile and yawns so wide his jaw protests.

His limbs feel lose and relaxed of waking up not so soon ago, and they seem to be begging Richie to crawl back under the cover and cuddle with Eddie some more, but tour life stretched itself through all the aspects of Richie’s life these past months, and he really long for some time to spend with his daughter.

As he stumbles blindly, his hand scours the miniature table, but the only thing he can find are his glasses, neatly tucked away in what must have been Eddie’s doing after Richie zonked out.

At first he thinks he missed it, but then his glasses help him see clearly, and he notices that the phone is no longer there.

‘Hey, Eds?’

The only answer he receives is a grunt, muffled by the blankets Eddie hides under.

‘Did you hide my phone again?’ Richie asks, his eyebrows knitted together in confusion. Eddie shakes his head without looking up, napping on.

‘Huh’, Richie responds, deciding to let Eddie wake at his own terms. He probably ditched the phone somewhere and is drawing blank on where it could be, but it’ll be found again soon. With a deflated shrugs, Richie leaves the room to wake up his daughter, excited like a kid on Christmas to rope her into mischief.

Eddie huffs, forcing the blanket of off him and screwing his eyes open, scratching at a spot on his back that insistently itched all night.

Soon, Ellie will run in with coffee, with a meticulous steady head so none of it spills, and announce that breakfast is prepared. Some of it will be burned, other things will be so delicious Eddie will look forward to it every day of the week till he eats it again. Regardless of how good the food is, the most important thing is that it’s family time, and that no interruption or distractions occur but the laughter and unprovoqued leering both Richie, Ellie and Eddie gathered throughout the week.  

Eddie smiles contently, resting his eyes a tad longer and imagining the inviting warm smell flowing up from downstairs. What he gets instead is frantic running up the stairs, loud thuds that rattle the foundation and follow each other quickly, subsequently followed by the bedroom door ricocheting of it’s hinges.

The urgency behind it spooks Eddie, who scrambles out of bed before Richie manages to utter a word.

‘Ellie’s not here.’

----

‘Thank you for helping me aunt Bev’, Ellie reinforces Bev, who brought out mint tea and joined her on the sofa to watch tv.

The movie provided background noise to the conversation they previously held, Ellie a little intimidated otherwise.

‘Any time honey you know this.’

Bev smiles brightly enough that her pearl white teeth show, her hair in a braid swiped over her shoulder, she radiates happiness to a degree Ellie has never seen.

‘I love dad and pops, I do, but you know how they get’, Ellie grimaced, his hands twisting nervously in the hem of the shirt she wormed herself in on the way here. A laugh bubbles out of Bev, already nodding her head.

‘They mean well but yes. I’m glad you confided in me.’ On instinct, Ellie dropped her hand down to pet the soft fur of Ben and Bev’s dog, a lifelong companion to them but also to her. She swiped nothing but air, Ben took the dog on a walk in the park, leaving the two girls to discuss thing among themselves. It was sad she didn’t get a chance to say hi to them, but she figures she’ll visit again later.

‘I really should get going,’ Ellie starts, her hand enclosing the plastic bag filled with supplies Bev landed her gracefully. ‘Pops and I love arranging breakfast, so I should really get home before they wake up to me not hanging around the house.’

Bev blinked innocently, surprise grazing her features. ‘Well, it is nine am, will they not be awake yet?’

‘It’s not that late yet is it?’ Bev’s phone rings loudly, startling Ellie out of her stupor. Even from her angle on the phone, she deciphers her pops names before Bev announce that it’s Richie.

‘Oops’, Ellie mutters, grimacing as the severity of the situation begins to down on her. She’s in big trouble now. Accepting the call, Bev puts in on speaker, a hand apologetically stroking Ellie’s arm conveying that yes, Bev’s sorry, but Ellie might get killed today.

‘Beverly’, Eddie distraught voice shakes through the microphone. A sinking stone weighs Ellie down, flushed with guilt, she hadn’t thought she’d be here so long, she only counted a five minute drop by.

‘Do you know where Ellie is? She’s not in her room or in the backyard either.’ In the background something smashes to the floor, in addition to cursing that sounds more like roaring, and Richie running out.

‘I really think she snatched my cellphone. Maybe she called someone to pick her up?’

Bev attempts to capture their attention goes unheard, the bickering between Eddie and Richie hardly begun.

‘I fucking told you Richie, dump the goddamn phone so much.’

‘How the fuck is that my fault? It has nothing do with that’, Richie argues frustrate, it’s obvious from the way he snapped back at Eddie he is equally as overwrought as Eddie.

‘You’re right, it’s mine. I’ve pushed her away by being to hands on. I should have given her more freedom to do what she wanted and I-‘

‘Eddie no. I honestly don’t think there’s anyone less strict as you. You remember when she was ten and she asked for two ice creams in a row and you just gave them to her because we were on a vacation?’

‘Stop dad. Pop’s right, I’m not running away for fuck sake’, Ellie yells out eventually, frustrated by the conversations taking place.

‘Ellie?’ A chair is pushed back and screeches across the floor, intending on the floor Eddie hammered on about being careful on.

‘Stay where you are, we’re on our way.’ Richie grounds out, seizing hold of his jacket and racing to the car. The connection then severs and dead silence is left in its wake.

‘Good luck with that.’

----

Though Bev, Ben, Eddie and Richie live nearby, Ellie is shocked by the fast response as the car halts not fully parked, Eddie and Richie jumping out in pajama’s.

Bev opened the door, so they waltz right on it without regarding Bev, seizing Ellie in a close knit hug both Richie and Eddie participate in.

‘Don’t you ever, ever scare us like that again. You hear me?’ Richie threatens, his words crackling with relief that his daughter is fine.

‘I’m sorry, I won’t. I honestly thought I would be back before you knew it.’

‘Why are you here in the first place?’ The family remains close, Eddie’s hand holding Ellie’s forearm loosely.

A blush shoots up her cheeks, coloring them bright red at the question. 

‘Yeah about that, Is it not enough for me to promise to never do this again?‘

[good-doctor-imagine]

Scar » one

Pairing: Richie Tozier x Fem!Reader

Summary: You thought you were leaving everything behind when you moved to Derry. Turns out, you were wrong. (soulmate au)

Word Count: 2410

A/N: I’m so excited to post the first part to this! I’ve been writing it for the past couple of days and it’s gotten so long that I decided to split it into a few parts. I hope you all like it! <3

You had no clue why your parents wanted to move to Derry, Maine so abruptly. It wasn't like there was much opportunity in a small town like that. Actually, you did know. Your dad got transferred because of the increase in missing kids cases and the Derry police force needed extra hands. Now that you look at it, you understood the need to move but you couldn't wrap your head around why they would move. You were a kid for God's sake. If there was an increase in missing kids cases, then why would they bring you along?

You tried arguing that your dad should go and work until the cases were solved. Of course, being the thirteen-year-old you were, they wouldn't listen to your argument. Instead, they insured you that you were in good hands, your father was a police officer and the whole town had a 7 pm curfew to ensure the safety of its citizens.

Scoffing, you went back to your room, slamming the door behind you to show your disappointment. It was August, right before you started school again. The summer was spent outside with your friends, riding bikes until the sun set, splashing in rivers until you were soaked. Nothing could have prepared you for the sudden goodbye. You tried not to show your heartbreak as you hugged your best friend for the last time, holding each other for what seemed like hours.

To put it lightly, you were pissed. You didn't even attempt to hide your disappointment in the backseat of your dad's Ford Sierra, giving short answers every time your parents asked you a question. It took so much of you not to roll your eyes when your dad told you to behave. Sure, you were being a brat, but your life was ripped away from you in a matter of 3 days. Three days ago your parents told you were moving. Two days ago you said goodbye to some of your closest friends. One day ago, you were packing your bags, your best friend helping you pack the most valuable items that you've accumulated over the years. Birthday gifts, goofy polaroids, and treasured memories were being stuffed into containers, turning into just some cherished moments of your life.

Now, you were on the road to start your new life. You didn't want a new life, all you wanted was to go back home and spend time with your friends. As you sat in the back seat, your head rested on your right hand. Subconsciously, your gaze traveled to the inside of your left hand. There was a scar that showed up a few days ago, a long jagged mark across the palm of your hand. The moment you saw it, you knew it was from your soulmate. You tried to recall what happened that day, wondering if you slid your hand on a rock and scratched it, but you never remembered the pain. Your skin wasn't bothered either, it was just a dark mark across your skin.

A part of you was relieved knowing that your soulmate was there. Besides the scar on your left hand, there was nothing on your body to show you that your soulmate existed. Some days you wondered if you even had a soulmate. When you were little, you would search for any tiny mark you could, determined to find a mark that showed you that they were there. After a while, you gave up. You thought if they didn't have a scar now, then you probably didn't have a soulmate.

All of your friends had scars as well. Whether it was from your intense playing and skidding on rocks or just plain roughhousing, everyone had a scar from something. You even had one.

It was easy to miss unless you were looking closely. Being the rambunctious and rebellious toddler you were, you didn't listen to your parents whenever they told you to stop. Before you knew it, a piece of glass from a wine glass your mom dropped a few seconds earlier was buried in the bottom of your foot. Although it was pretty light, a line was drawn on the center of your foot, a permanent marker of your rebellious action.

Being able to see your soulmate's scar was comforting and nerve-racking. The conflicting emotions made your head spin. One part of you was so elated that there was confirmation that you had a soulmate. The other part of you was anxious that you just left your soulmate. Ever since you were a child, you would create scenarios where you would find your soulmate outside your house one day. In one scenario, they were your new neighbor, knocking on your front door to introduce themselves. In another, they ran into you as you were biking with your friend. Your favorite scenario was meeting your soulmate in the arcade, your relationship starting with a friendly competition. Since you were little, you convinced yourself that your soulmate was back home. Your soulmate was waiting for you back in (Hometown). You balled your left hand into a fist, covering the scar from your view. It was too painful to look at.

When you went to go tell your parents about your newfound scar, a huge grin adorning your face, they told you that you had to move. Before you knew it, your grin fell and disbelief surrounded your whole body. You were just overjoyed knowing that your soulmate was actually alive, but now a sense of dread filled your body. Saying goodbye to all your friends, memories, dreams, and all for what? Your dad's job transfer?

You couldn't have hated the road trip more, clenching your hand into a fist as your parents sat in the front seat, their own hands entwined on the center console.

Richie was a toddler when he attained his first scar. His parents were shocked when they looked at the bottom of his right foot, finding a line etched on his skin. At first, they thought it was some sort of marker that Richie used on his skin but it didn't disappear when they tried to wash it off. Then, they asked their son if he stepped on something sharp while they were at work. Richie shook his head, his mouth slightly hung open in confusion.

Then, it clicked into their minds. Richie's soulmate must have cut their foot somehow. Of course, they would explain it to him later. Trying to explain soulmates to a toddler was not something they wanted to get involved with.

When Richie was 7, his parents finally explained the concept of soulmates to him. They told him about the scar on his foot and how his soulmate would have the same mark. Richie found it a bit weird that soulmates existed, his second-grade mind not able to grasp the concept of loving someone yet. Hell, some boys in his class still believed that girls had cooties. As Richie aged up, he began to understand the concept of soulmates even more. Popular TV shows and movies would contain soulmates, often between two best friends that didn't know they were connected in that way until one of them got injured. People at school started to pay more attention to the marks on their bodies, searching each other for the familiar marks with the hope of finding their other half.

Richie never tried that hard to search for his soulmate. He couldn't exactly go up to someone and say "Let me see the bottom of your feet". He knew that finding his soulmate would be a challenge but he didn't mind that much. He was 13 and wasn't interested in the concept of love. He was too busy entertaining himself with Street Fighter, not to mention the killer clown that he and his friends defeated that summer. The last thing that was on his mind was his soulmate.

All of the losers knew about his soulmate's scar, they all saw it from their frequent visits to the quarry. Eddie and Beverly liked to tease him about it, asking him if he had some kind of foot fetish. Richie ignored their comments and bit back at them. He wasn't bothered by his soulmate's mark and, in fact, he would often forget about it. It wasn't like he could look at it every day, it was on the bottom of his foot and he didn't have much flexibility.

After the defeat of the killer clown, Richie dedicated himself to his game Street Fighter, determined to exceed his highest score from last year. Eddie would join him every few days before complaining about Richie's obsession. Tired of Richie's lack of attention, Eddie decided that he wasn't going to the arcade with Richie that day. Instead, he was going birdwatching with Stanley. Richie didn't hold back his complaints, calling the popular hobby incredibly boring. Eddie wasn't bothered by his words, leaving Richie by himself at the arcade machine.

Your mom kicked you out of the house, giving you some money before sending you out the front door. She was bothered by you spending the rest of your summer indoors so she told you to go out and make some friends. Your mood was sour as you grabbed your bike from the driveway. You remembered passing by an arcade on the way here and decided that it would be the perfect place to go. You could spend your money, play some games, and convince your mom that you made some friends (even if you didn't).

Taking a step in the arcade, you looked around at the people occupying the machines. There weren't that many given the small space. Walking over to the quarter machine, you put in a five dollar bill to get some change. While it was spitting out some coins, you took the time to look at your options. There were a few machines across the wall: a pacman machine, a rampage machine, and a popcorn machine stuffed into the corner. What caught your eye was the Street Fighter machine in the middle of the arcade but there was already a boy occupying it. Taking your quarters out of the machine, you stood back for a while, waiting for the kid to leave the game.

One minute turned to five, then to ten, then to fifteen. By this point, you were getting annoyed. The boy was constantly replaying, entering quarter after quarter to start a new game. Right before he put in the next quarter, you came up behind him and spoke up, your voice sharp.

"Can you move on already? There's other people in the arcade too."

The boy turned around with furrowed eyebrows, his squinted eyes magnified by the large glasses resting on his nose. "You talkin' to me?"

You scoffed, folding your arms in front of you. "Who else would I be talking to? You're the only one hogging a machine."

Richie took a few quick glances around the arcade before turning his focus back onto you. "Looks like there's other games open still, sugar."

Your eyebrow twitched at the nickname but you held yourself back from snapping at him. "Well, I want to play this game."

Richie smirked at you before gesturing to the game screen in front of him. "See this, sugar?" He pointed to the high score on the screen, "This is my high score. Unless you can do better, I suggest you go play some other game." Ignoring his comment, you pushed next to him, entering your own quarter in the game. "H-Hey did you hear me?"

"Loud and clear," You responded, shooting him a fake smile. "Now are you going to play or what?" You gestured to the second set of controls.

Richie's frown turned into a smirk, the corner of his lip tipping upwards. "You're on, sugar."

All you could hear was the jamming of buttons and the occasional groan from your opponent. Your focus was on the game, determined to defeat the arrogant boy that stood next to you. You won the first round, making Richie grumble in disappointment. When he won the second round, he let out a victorious shout.

"You need to be faster than that to defeat me."

You rolled your eyes at his comment, stretching out your fingers to get ready for the next round. "There's one more round, you haven't won yet."

Richie bit his lip, concentrating on the combat game in front of him. He couldn't let this girl defeat him, not at his favorite game. Unfortunately, his health started to drain as you jammed the buttons, fingers working tirelessly to defeat the arrogant prick. Richie also got your health down pretty low, but it wasn't enough. With one final hit, you were able to knock down his character.

Mouth turned down in disappointment, he stared at the screen with hard eyes. Your mouth was turned up into a grin, feeling victorious as you got to enter your name into the screen.

"Best out of three?" Richie offered, looking at you with pleading eyes.

"Sure," You complied, "But you have to pay since you lost."

The two of you lost count of the score by the tenth game, the loser having to pay for the next round. The game kept going and before you knew it, it was already 5:30.

"Sorry I have to go," You spoke up before Richie could insert the next quarter, "My mom will kill me if I'm late to dinner."

Richie's grin faltered, looking over at the girl next to him. He had such a good time with you that he even lost track of time. For some reason, he wished he could pause time just so you could keep playing. He liked having someone as competition. Eddie was a good friend and he did play the game with him, but he wasn't much competition. Richie was bound to win every round. With you, however, there was a challenge to it. He would win a few rounds and you would win a few rounds. You were both testing each other's skills.

"Oh," Richie finally spoke, the hand holding the quarter slowly dropping, "Will you be here tomorrow?"

Your eyebrows drew in slightly at his question before giving him a few pats on the shoulder. "Yeah, I can play a few rounds tomorrow."

two

Masterlist

[yurtletheturtlehenderson]

Scars That Heal || Eddie Kaspbrak x Reader Series

• Ch. 8: Somebody's Watching Me •

     Since the day of the rock fight, the Losers had been inseparable. And not only had that day come to be known as the day their bond had been forged but the day they had found a place to call their own: the clubhouse. A small subterranean dugout that Ben had found while playing in the Barrens one day. After many a reinforcement, he had transformed it into a habitable space for him and his six, now seven best friends. After their defeat of the Bowers gang, Ben had taken them into the Barrens, and just across the Kenduskeag Stream to the aforementioned fort where their bonds were furthered forged.

     And apart from their dark confessions at the park and the overcast of fear looming over their heads, Y/n had suggested another trip to the clubhouse as a morale booster. They each found themselves there with one another quite a bit, particularly when things were looking gloomy. It had quickly become a sanctuary for the children. And since their taking residency, the dingy little dugout had filled with trinkets and treasures of their own, slowly but surely growing far more homely with each visit.

     This particular trip to the clubhouse was less than exciting, everyone was still fairly unsettled from their conversation at the park earlier that day. And the journey through the barrens and across the Kenduskeag was considerably silent apart from the trickling stream and the singing birds. And every so often they would hear the scuffle of Ben readjusting his backpack over his shoulder.

     When they had left the park, he had suggested stopping by his house to pick something up and the others complied, curiously. Before they could debate on whether or not to follow him inside, he had returned from his house with a thick brown burlap cloth folded up under his arms. He was unzipping his backpack as he walked across his front lawn, tucking some more unseen things inside before storing the large piece of cloth and ropes in as well.

     "What is that, Ben?" Y/n had asked, balancing herself on her bike as it stood still on the pavement, her toes reaching for the concrete.

     He had closed his backpack and threw it over his shoulder before grabbing his bike.

     "Oh, it's our old hammock." Everyone's face's lit up at his words, the first they had perked since the park. "We had it at our old house, but, we don't really have a good place to hang it here, so I figured we could find a spot in the clubhouse."

     "That's a great idea," Mike beamed.

     Ben smiled at the comment and turned a little pink. He had always found it odd his interest in architecture, the kids at his old school always gave him grief for it. And over time it became an instinct to bury his interest, to never bring it up. But when he showed the Losers the clubhouse, they were enthralled. With the structure and his abilities. Ben was still getting used to their fascination and support in his passions, but he sure did enjoy it.

     And soon enough, the eight Losers found themselves descending the ladder into the place each and every one of them could call home. From the moment they entered, their noses were filled with the overwhelming and concentrated aroma of dust, and fresh layers of earth still damp from previous rains.

     It was intoxicating to the Loser's as it became the smell they associated with the clubhouse, their hideaway. Their hideaway from the Bowers gang, their hideaway from the world, and if they believed hard enough, a hideaway from It. A place where they could be stronger than the world told them they were, a place that reminded them that they were stronger than the world told them they were.

     But even this trip didn't seem to quite do the trick for each of them.

     "I don't see why we're here," Richie snorted, waltzing over to the crooked beam and slapped it gently - learning from Ben's mistakes. "Unless this fucker is demon proof or whatever the fuck that thing is I don't see how this is gonna help."

     "Doesn't mean we can't try and have fun while we can," Y/n argued. "Or at least try and clear our heads, calm down a little bit and collect ourselves. We can work something out some other day if we want, but not today. I mean, look at us,"

     Y/n gestured around the small circle the Losers had formed at the center of the clubhouse. Apart from Y/n, everyone was quiet and closed off, arms either tucked at their sides or they were wringing their hands. It was not the same seven misfits that stood together against Bowers, but the seven lonely children that were isolated and afraid when It had found them.

     "Look, I'm scared too. But somethings telling me we need to enjoy this while we can."

     Y/n sighed, her waving arms falling to rest at her sides in exasperation and her eyes fell to the dirt floor. For some unfathomable reason, she would never be able to explain, the turtle from that day at the quarry popped into her mind, and a faint ghost of a smile dusted her cheeks. She looked around at her friends with a reassuring sense of confidence and some of them seemed to take to her words.

     A similar thought crossed Beverly's mind and she smirked at her best friend and nodded, hands now tucked into her back pockets.

     "Y/n's right, let's just enjoy the rest of the day while we can. It's summer!"

     Bill fought the urge to roll his eyes at the familiar argument, but even he couldn't deny the whole idea of forgetting sounded tempting to him.

     Poor Eddie - who had been clutching his inhaler tightly to his chest in between puffs of the device - looked around the circle, then up at Richie. Richie looked down at his best friend and shrugged, slapping the kids back and the inhaler nearly flew out of his tiny grasp.

     "Whatdya' say, Eddie Spaghetti, you up for some good ol' fashioned repression and denial? Shouldn't be too hard for ya pal, that's what - every Wednesday night for you huh?"

     If Eddie wasn't still holding the albuterol captive in his swollen lungs, he would've snapped at Richie for saying such things, and above all that God-awful nickname again! But instead, he rolled his eyes and looked to Y/n, ignoring that his heart was beating just a twinge faster, and hesitantly nodded.

     "Great" Y/n smiled, relieved Eddie agreed.

     She less than gracefully twirled around - her ankle ached in reply - to look for the boombox Bill had brought last time. Swallowing a wince, Y/n reached the boombox and turned the radio on, giving the room a lighter ambiance already. They soon quickly recognized the song New York Groove, by Kiss as it was fading out.

    Y/n turned to Ben and gestured to his backpack.

     "So, should we hang up the hammock?"

     "Oh! Uh, yeah sure."

     Ben took the faded backpack from his shoulder and unzipped it, retrieving the thick burlap cloth as the radio station announced the next song of the previous decade.

     The Losers dispersed, making room for Y/n and Ben as they unfolded the hammock, the ends of the ropes trailing in the dirt after them. From the boombox in the corner, came the gentle tune of a piano, and a soft voice spilled into the atmosphere as the last rays of the sun shone through the entrance to the clubhouse.

     Ben gestured between two beams structured across the room and the pair made their way over as the song, Our House by Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young swelled, giving the rest of the Losers the sense of home and comfort.

     "I'll light the fire

You put the flowers in the vase that you bought today"

     "Come to me now and rest your head for just five minutes, everything is good"

     Ben began instructing Y/n on how to hang the hammock, and the two set to work. Stan and Bev had begun gathering stray leaves that made their way into the clubhouse while they had been gone and set to tidying up. Between the two, it wasn't long before a competition formed to see who could get the most leaves and twigs out.

     Meanwhile, Eddie, Richie, and Mike had begun playing a game of cards with a deck that Richie had left last time. Of course, a game hadn't been decided yet. The three boys - mainly Richie and Eddie - had begun arguing over what to play. It was between Bullshit, Sevens and Mike just wanted to play Palace.

     "Such a cozy room, the windows are illuminated by the

Sunshine through them, fiery gems for you, only for you"

     Ben, Y/n, Bev and Stan had finished with their respective tasks before the trio could decide on a game. Everyone's attention was drawn back to Y/n and Ben when they put the finishing touches on the hammock.

     "Our house is a very, very, very fine house with two cats in the yard,

Life used to be so hard,

Now everything is easy 'cause of you and our—"

     "Alright," Y/n said, dusting off her hands after pushing herself off the dirt floor. "The hammock's all-"

     Before she could finish her sentence Richie had leaped to his feet - cursing profusely under his breath when he bumped his head on a low beam - and ran for the hammock. Making sure to go out of his way to shove Eddie to ground for no particular reason and his small frame hit the dirt with a rather loud 'umph'. Protests were thrown across the room but Richie merely stretched out his long lanky legs and rested his head under his folded arms, sighing in content.

    "Welp," Richie sighed, popping the 'p'. "You were right, toots. Coming down here wasn't so bad after all. And good thinking with the hammock, haystack. You got a good nugget in there."

     Richie winked at Y/n and nodded firmly at Ben. The Losers rolled their eyes in near-perfect sync - a feat easier around one another than one might think - and Richie closed his eyes, ignoring their glares. Eddie was extra furious given he was still feverishly dusting several spots of dirt off himself.

     "Alright, wake me when It's dead."

     "Enough, Richie." Y/n warned, before turning to Ben. "Ben, what I tell ya? Within the minute."

     Ben chuckled and Stan stepped forward.

     "Richie, we're sharing the hammock, you have to get up one way or another" He warned.

     "Yeah, yeah, sure thing, Stanley the Manley." Richie retorted, still never opening his eyes.

     Stan rolled his eyes and stepped around the hammock. Catching Y/n's eye, he gestured silently to the hammock and an unsuspecting Richie. Smirking, she made her way around the hammock and gestured for the others to continue talking. About what, she didn't care. They caught on almost immediately, but Eddie choked. Mike was quick to cover.

     "Eddie, if you really want we can play-"

     THUMP

     "THE FUCK?!"

     Stan and Y/n had flipped the hammock and Richie was pulling his dirtied face from the ground with a wince.

     "The fuck was that?"

     "We all know you weren't m-moving otherwise, Richie." Bill shot.

     "Hey, don't throw a fit just cause you guys were too slow."

     Richie turned to see Stan sat in the hammock, smirking at him.

     "You were saying?"

     "Oh, come on! That's not fair!" Richie gestured widely at Stan, looking desperately around the room for scraps of sympathy.

     Ignoring Richie's protests, Y/n turned to the others and raised a brow.

     "How about we each have ten minutes? That way it's fair."

     The Losers looked at one another and a chorus of agreement rang out.

     "S-s-sounds good."

     "Okay." Mike nodded.

     "Yeah, alright."

     "I call next!" Bev called.

     "Oh, for fuck sake! Don't I get a say in this? Wasn't I the one just violently thrown from the hammock? Eds, come on! Back me up!"

     Eddie wore a deadpan look as he met his best friend's eyes, bits of twig that Beverly and Stan had missed unknowingly caught in tufts of his hair.

     "Oh, don't try that with me, dickhead!" Eddie shot back. "You're the one who threw me in the dirt, why the fuck would I help you, and for fuck's sake stop calling me Eds!"

     Eddie took a deep breath after his small rant and glared at Richie. Scattered chuckles bounced across the Losers, Y/n's loudest of all.

     "Good for you, shrimp" Y/n giggled.

     "So just fuck me then, right?" Richie grumbled from the ground.

    Richie was not quite expecting a chorus of agreements echo off the Losers though he couldn't say he was surprised.

     "Pretty much."

     "Yeah,"

     "Uh-huh,"

      "Yep,"

     Huffing, he sat near the hammock and began finding ways to make Stan's turn in the hammock unpleasant. Stan didn't take this, of course, having many years under his belt of dealing with the loudmouth. Y/n looked at the pouting Tozier boy and felt a smile creep up and a twinge of guilt. She maneuvered around the hammock, and knelt down next to her friend, resting her ankle on the dirt floor where it wasn't strained.

     "Oh, don't look so glum, Tozier. It's not a good look on you," She rested her elbow on the boy's shoulder and he quickly scoffed, brushing off her words.

     "Oh please, everything looks good on me, toots, and you know it." Richie shot back, turning to meet her eye. "And I wouldn't be surprised if you wanted a piece of this either."

     Y/n guffawed, grabbing the attention of the Kaspbrak boy across the room, who was now watching them curiously. Her laughter bubbled into a small chuckle that would be bouncing around Eddie's head for the rest of the day like a catchy song. He watched fondly as the two engaged with one another and he noted how well they always got along.

     Y/n shook her head, trying at no avail to shake the smile from her lips. "You wish, Tozier."

     Richie held a smile of his own as he looked to her, that was until he glanced past her head and across the room to see the captivating gaze Eddie was held in. His big brown eyes focused on the girl beside him and that familiar pang that always returned when he caught Eddie staring at her like that. Richie swallowed thickly, his quick wit and sharp tongue taking over and he returned his attention to Y/n as if nothing happened.

     Richie shrugged, clicking his tongue. "No need to be shy, babe. Everybody wants a slice, and there's plenty for you."

     He puckered his lips and exaggeratedly smacked his lips at her and it was enough to do the trick. Her smile was gone, quickly replaced by her lips pressing into a firm line as she shoved his head away playfully. The Losers chimed in almost immediately. Various disgusted and disgruntled 'Beep beep, Richies' rang out after that comment and Y/n finally rose to her feet with a simple grunt.

     "Ech, I told you not to call me that, you dick." She grumbled, though she bit back a defeated smile, as she walked away.

     "That's my name, don't wear it out-" They said in sync, Y/n joining Bev on the bench on the far wall. "Yeah, yeah, I walked right into that one."

     Richie sniggered triumphantly, and with his new burst of confidence, he returned to his attempts to aggravate Stan. Ben meanwhile, had begun making plans for another seating arrangement in his head, to divert some attention away from the hammock. He remembered he had some spare rope he kept with him in his backpack for such occasions - spur of the moment projects - and there were some sturdy enough boards laying around the place. By the end of the day - hopefully, with help - he could fashion a small swing seat for him and his friends. Not to swing, of course, there wasn't enough stability for that, but for sitting.

     He shared his plan with Bill and the two got to work. Bill thought it was a terrific idea, given how much fuss was being made over the hammock. Occupying the far corner of the room, was Mike and Eddie sat at the low coffee table the Losers had found last Wednesday. Mike had made the discovery, passing through one of the smaller neighborhoods in Derry when he saw someone had left it out on the street for the taking. The Losers gathered that morning and hauled it to the clubhouse, took all day to get it there but at least they had a surface for cards and such. Between Mike and Eddie, it was a bit easier to decide on a card game. They landed on Palace, and Eddie was finding he was having loads more fun than he did with Sevens.

     In between turns, he would find his eyes wandering past Mike at the bench on the wall. Y/n was thoroughly invested in Beverly's story, she was nodding along eagerly with a smile creeping up on her face. Eddie hadn't realized one was creeping up on his own, but he jumped slightly when she burst out laughing. Perhaps he was startled by the noise or he was just on guard from staring. Eddie looked away but he cursed himself when he realized she was looking at him.

     She had seen it.

     As for Y/n, she felt her stomach do a small flip when she felt a certain pair of brown eyes on her. Still smiling, she looked past Beverly, and on the ground, sitting curled up on a mat at the coffee table, blushing profusely and attempting desperately to avoid eye contact was Eddie.

     A small hum of a laugh vibrated through Beverly's chest, and without looking at him, she knew.

     "Is he looking at you again?" A smirk painted her face.

     Y/n hummed a response she knew Eddie wouldn't notice. With a fleeting burst of confidence, Y/n looked at the small boy, meeting his eye, and winked. She returned her attention to Bev, smirking yet she couldn't help but keep an eye on him. The poor boy blushed instantaneously, his neck and face grew hot and when Mike returned his attention to his friend - he had been too caught up in what cards to play - became very concerned. Eddie was now completely red. But this time he didn't look away, and despite his racing heart and raging blush, he allowed himself to meet her eye once more and much to his surprise, the ends of his lips even twitched into a smile.

     Y/n was attempting to hide blushes of her own, but not much time passed until the topic had changed along with the music. Each of them was swept back up in their own conversations in no time, though their minds replayed the small moment over and over. By now, several songs had come and gone, filling up the minutes of the time that wasted away in the company of the Losers.

     The eight misfits were not fully immersed in their own activities, but still very much engaged with another. And it wasn't long until the looming threat of their previous subject at the park was briefly forgotten. For now, they were safe, tucked away in their own private corner of the world, lost in the blissful moments of childhood.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

     Bill inserts the last tack into the wall, the large map reading 'DERRY SEWER SYSTEM' now hangs in the garage. As usual, the Losers had arrived at slightly different intervals. Mike and Stan arrived first, and Mike helped set up the projector while Stan was hanging blankets over the windows to prevent as much light as possible from entering. Ben had arrived shortly after, be had brought the slides that Bill had requested, and the last to show was Bev and Y/n who had left their complex together and ran into Richie and Eddie on the way.

     He could hear their conversation coming up the driveway, and the sounds of Bev eagerly greeting Ben and the others - seemingly happy to get a break from being the fourth wheel.

     "What's the matter, Eddie? Don't tell me you're afraid of the shape-shifting clown, are ya?" Richie spoke, as the three came to a stop near the garage where they discarded their bikes.

     "Oh, fuck off, Richie!" Eddie huffed.

     Y/n laughed, but it was very weak and sounded almost forced. "Don't worry Eddie. Richie and I have your back. Right, Richie?"

     Instinctively, her hand found Eddie's back and she pats him gently. Y/n smiled weakly, and it was clear she was just as nervous. Her hand fell from his back and immediately, Eddie missed it being there. Eddie didn't know how to respond, all he could muster was a shaky smile in thanks. It wasn't much, but he knew she had gotten the message.

     In turn, Richie began ruffling Eddie's hair and the boy flinched trying to escape his friend's grasp.

     "Hey! Hey, what the hell are-?"

      "Why, of course, we got to protect ol' Eddie Spaghetti! In fact," A light bulb went off over Richie's head and he looked to Y/n who was listening amused. "Y/n and I, are the proud co-founders of... P.E.K.S"

     Eddie finally manages to escape from Richie's torment and he huffed, attempting to adjust his hair. Eddie looks up at Richie, giving him an odd look, unknowingly Y/n was just as taken aback.

     "The what? What the hell are you talking about?"

     Richie swung his arm around Eddie and the three continued their journeys into the garage, finally joining the others. The rest of the Losers were just finishing laying out chairs and pillows for them to sit on.

     "You don't know? It's P.E.K.S, that is 'p', 'e', 'k', 's' my friend, P.E.K.S. Protect Eddie Kaspbrak Squad and we take our job very seriously, don't we toots?"

     An honest laugh escaped Y/n and for once she was relieved she had stayed quiet and went along with Richie's antics to find out, cause she agreed wholeheartedly. Swallowing her surprise, a smile found it's way onto her face and she looked to Eddie.

     "Damn straight, shrimp."

     Mike reached the garage door and reached for the handle, he paused taking one look around the room at his friends.

     "Everyone set?"

     Mike was met with scattered confirmations and with one swift tug of his arm, he pulled the door shut. All remaining sunlight - apart from a few weak rays peaking through the roof slats and the edges of the blankets - had vanished. All that illuminated the garage was the pale white light of the projector where Bill had just put in the slide Ben had brought of Old Derry. The same slide he had found in Ben's room the day they had gone to the quarry.

     The group dispersed, getting situated around the projector. Unfortunately, they weren't able to find many seats so that left Mike and Bill standing near the back and Y/n opted for a floor pillow in front of the projector where she could see.

     It also didn't hurt that she was near Eddie. But she did feel a bit exposed, she was front and center and the others were tucked in with one another in a way. However, it did give her the benefit of stretching out her bad leg. And yet, Y/n could not quite shake the feeling rooted deep inside her. To her it felt eerily similar to a common phenomenon experienced by millions of people around the globe, to her it felt as if she - and her friends, in their anxious huddle - were gathering around preparing themselves in front of their screen. Accompanied by the sickly feeling of dread and anxiety, mere butterflies - the special kind of butterflies - in her stomach that migrated only when a scary movie was about to start.

     And decades in the future her brain would tell her it was nothing more than that. That that awful, nauseating feeling that had bubbled in the pits of her stomach that day was nothing more than a product of special effects and a cheesy plotline. And anytime coworkers would talk about movie nights they had as kids, and engage with her about such things, her mind would show her nothing more than a hazy ersatz memory it had painted for her.

   Of her, under blankets and pillows, surrounded by kids - she would never stop to realize the faces were fuzzy, people she didn't know, she always felt alone in these memories. Her at the front of the pack, all crowded around a white television screen, her and the blurry kids, jumping back in fright at the blank white picture of static. This is all she would come to remember. A scary movie, with some blurry faces, five or six at least - one of the faces always stuck out stronger than the others, just a little bit clearer and wildly familiar but the thought would never linger long enough for her to recognize them. Y/n wouldn't remember that she was in fact with Stan Uris and Beverly Marsh, or even Richie Tozier, Mike Hanlon, and Ben Hanscom all stuffed in Bill Denbrough's garage on a hot summer day in July, investigating the darkest mystery of their small hometown.

     But at the moment, all Y/n knew was that they were simply looking at Bill's projector, and he was sharing his theory and where It lives. Truthfully, Y/n did not know what to expect beyond that, but she could not shake that pit in her stomach. The pit that reminded her of the sickly feeling one gets when they are about to watch a horror movie. When the harsh violin plays, and the thunder strikes and one can feel the adrenaline coursing through their veins and they're trembling in all the excitement.

     Y/n didn't like that she felt this way, but she tried to dismiss it. Even if there was credit it to it - she didn't want to admit there was but if she did at least she was surrounded by her friends. The slide came into the focus, and the words 'MAP of the city of DERRY' appeared in the corner. Suddenly, all the details of Derry were splayed out perfectly in line with the Derry Public Works system Bill had hung up. The children could now see the entire town of Derry, including the interconnecting pathways and tunnels below, represented by a strangely ominous bright red line. It branched out from the far left corner of the map, skewing off into many different branches, touching every corner of Derry.

     "Look," Bill said, gesturing to something he had scribbled on his map. "T-T-That's where G-G-Georgie disappeared."

     Everyone's eyes fell on the small 'x' marked on a red line on Jackson street. Scratched in black ink next to it were the words, 'Storm Drain'. Bill gestured to another familiar location that overlapped a red line.

     "There's the Ironworks. And The Black Spot."

     Sure enough, sprinkled across the map of Derry were the mentioned locations of Derry's biggest disasters. Each of them bordering the sewers.

     "Everywhere it happens, it-it's all connected by the sewers," Bill said.

     Every red branch, every red line, all came from one spot, one source on the map where everything overlapped. The pits in everyone's stomachs bloomed and they all knew.

     "And they all meet up at the-"

     "The well house." Ben realized aloud.

     Eddie looked back slowly and tentatively towards the screen. Much like his friends his heart was pounding faster and faster. But Eddie could feel the familiar grasp around his lungs, and it only tightened at Stan's words.

     "It's in the house on Neibolt Street," Stan said, in a similar realization.

     Eddie remembered all too well the last time he had been there. But part of him had hoped it was all a nightmare. Some sick and cruel elaborate scene his mind had conjured up.

     "You mean that creepy-ass house where all the junkies and hobos like to sleep?" Richie asked.

     Shakily, Eddie pulled out his inhaler and gave it a good shake before bringing it to his lips. He tried his best to keep the medicine in his lungs long enough for it to take effect but he choked down a gasp, as he hunched over. Y/n moved closer to Eddie and her eyes fell to his free hand. Cautiously, she took it, looking to him for silent confirmation, he seemed too involved with steadying his breathing to notice it seemed.

     "I hate that place," Beverly mumbled nervously, unaware of the pair in front.

     Y/n assumed he was too frightened to notice her acts of comfort. That was until she felt the muscles in his hand relax, only slightly, and gave her palm a gentle squeeze in thanks.

     "It always feels like it's watching me." Bev continued.

     Letting out a shaky breath, and slowly but surely regaining his composure, Eddie sat up. Though he neglected to release Y/n's hand, and he was sure in any other moment he would be a blushing mess but this felt stable to Eddie. It felt like a lifeline, a reminder he wasn't alone. Not like Neibolt.

     "That's where I saw It." He gulped. "That's where I saw the clown."

     Y/n hadn't realized immediately that she had been tracing circles into the back of his hand with the pad of her thumb. It was a habit she had developed since that first night of summer, anytime she was nervous she would tuck in her legs against her chest, and her fingers would absentmindedly find their way to her bandages. The pads of her fingers fidgeting with the frayed ends just to satisfy the creeping feeling of restlessness.

     "Tha-That's where It lives," Bill said.

     Eddie took another sharp breath of his inhaler, and this time around had better luck holding his breath. Y/n continued to stare at the big red dot on the map, it almost felt as if she were to look away it would disappear. Like finding a spider and leaving the room to find something to kill it with, only to return to find it had crawled away.

     "I can't imagine anything ever wanting to live there," Mike said shakily.

     Eddie jumped from his seat suddenly, his hand leaving Y/n's and they all watch as he scrambles to front, the projector illuminating his small frame.

     "Can we stop talking about this?" Eddie yells, gasping for air his arms waiving desperately as panic overwhelms him. "I-I-I can barely breathe. Th-This is summer. We're kids. I can barely breathe, I'm up here having a fucking asthma attack. I'm not doing this."

     Eddie whirls around and grabs the map of Derry's Sewer System and rips it off the wall.

     "What the hell? Put the map back." Bill snaps.

     Eddie shakes his head firmly. "Mm-mm."

     A loud click grabs their attention, and the screen over Eddie darkens briefly before it changes to another slide.

     Y/n turns around to look between Bill and the device.

     "Bill, what are you doing?"

     "N-nothing, that w-wasn't me."

     Another click.

     And another.

     The projector began clicking forward on its own, and it had now reached the beginning of the reel. Photos of the Denbrough family on vacation began to play, the photos changing at a regular pace.

     "What's going on?" Stan asked impatiently.

     Eddie backed away slowly, his eyes never leaving the projector. Y/n cautiously shifted back on the pillow, farther away from the wall.

     "I got it. Hold on." Mike offered gently.

     He fiddled with the projector, he pressed every button several times but it was no use. It must have been jammed. At the very least, he hopes it was.

     "Guys," he mumbled nervously, words dying on his tongue.

     Several photos had come and gone, and the projector now focused on a shot of the four Denbroughs in their Sunday best. They were all holding hands and Mrs. Denbrough's red hair was being whipped around in the wind, blocking her face.

     The projector clicked again, but the scene did not change. The shot was brought closer to Georgie, and Ben was instantly reminded of his trip to the library before he met the rest of the Losers.

     "Georgie," Bill croaked, as the image zoomed closer and closer to boy's toothy grin.

     "Bill?"

     By, now Y/n had risen from the pillow and scrambled back into the stool Eddie had previously occupied.

     The speed picked up and the pictures grew faster and faster as the projector flew through the slides. The picture moved more like that of a stop motion animation than a movie, every other movement caught on film. The camera angles itself up and changes focus to what is supposed to be Mrs. Denbrough. The red tendrils of hair begin to move, rapidly increasing until it isn't every other fragment but more like a regular picture movie.

     And to their horror, the hair is cast aside and underneath is the painted white face of the clown. It's unnaturally buck teeth sinking into the flesh of It's own bottom lip. A wicked smirk drawn all the way up to past It's yellow eyes.

     Y/n jumped back, her arms outstretched behind her and she began herding Stan, Eddie and herself away from the wall.

     "What the fuck is that? What the fuck is that?" Richie hollered, pulling Eddie and Y/n toward him.

     Eddie nearly tripped over Richie's chair as he was pulled into his grasp and Y/n still had her arms out herding them backward. She could hear Eddie's shrieks clearly from behind her.

     "I DON'T FUCKING KNOW!"

     "Stan!" Y/n cried.

     Stan had somewhat frozen in place, much like Ben, Bev and Bill had but even they were backing away slightly. He didn't seem to hear her and looked around frantically at her friends. Beverly, Stan, and Richie had not seen the clown before even though they had each encountered it. It had never appeared to them before as a clown and if she wasn't in immediate danger Beverly would have stopped to think about how this thing was in the living room with Y/n while she was asleep.

     "Turn it off!" She shouted quickly. "TURN IT OFF!"

     Y/n's top priority was ensuring Stan's safety, so she lurched forward and grabbed Stan by the back of the shirt, and yanked him back. He crashed into Mike and Eddie she glanced at the projector, trying desperately to bury the overwhelming thoughts and possibilities. Her eyes landed on the cord and she ripped the plug from the socket but the picture kept moving and she could feel the clown's eyes smiling at her, smugly. Her now in It's direct sights, It began to mimic that night, the clown blinked and the white's of It's eyes had disappeared. Nothing but dark chasms and two glowing yellow irises floating in the center.

     It all became infinitely more real to Y/n. And It pissed her off. She raised her good leg, and with a forceful grunt, she kicked the crate and the projector toppled onto the ground. Light from the machine had bounced all around the room on its journey to the floor and it landed upside down, picture crookedly aimed at the wall behind her and to the right of the four boys.

     Everyone froze, too fearful to move. Y/n most of all. She had gotten Stan to safety - she could only hope - but now she was in his place when another click echoed throughout the silent room. Frozen on the screen was the clown. It was blurry and It almost looked stuck but all Y/n could do was try and catch her breath, and calm her racing heart. Another click. She felt as if she was stuck, her body not her own and just like a nightmare no matter how much she was begging her legs to move they wouldn't budge. Another click. The image went blank, and several shaky breaths were released.

     Another slow click and the gigantic clown popped out of the picture, barely missing Y/n. She shrieked, and only then did her limbs catch up with her brain's signals. She cursed herself and her dumb fucking luck when she felt her footing slip out from underneath her. One of the dozens of slides had scattered the garage floor around her and caused her fall. She landed squarely on her backside and she scrambled back as far and fast as she could as the clown crawled forward after her. It's unnaturally giant size took up the entire garage.

     There wasn't a Loser who didn't scream after her. Richie snapped into action and while Y/n had made it pretty far on her own for It's speed and her aching leg, Richie quickly hooked his arms under hers and dragged her across the garage, not bothering to waste time by stopping to drag her to her feet. The others were tumbling across the garage to get the door tripping over one another as they ran and Y/n watched in horror as the clown reached out it's long and thinning twig-like arm after her. It's sharp talon-like claws soaked with her blood - as it had been that night - reached for her and as her legs were scrambling across the pavement. Trying desperately to retract them from his grasp and the last thing she saw before a flood of light engulfed her vision was the clown's black eyes glaring at her as it reached for her legs.

     Y/n felt as if her lungs might explode from how fast she had been inhaling air. Before she could process what had happened she found herself looking up at the ceiling of Bill's garage, several faces looking down at her. Sunlight was flooding into the room and she could barely register that the garage door was now open.

     "Y/n!"

     "Oh, my God"

     "What the fuck was that?"

     "Y/n? Y/n!"

     "I don't know, man!"

     Y/n could feel herself shaking horribly, and she suddenly noticed several hands on her shoulder and back and she realized she was sitting up. She flinched at their touch and she looked around the room quickly, afraid she would find It lurking somewhere.

     "Y/n, are you okay?"

     "Jesus, fuck!"

     "Y/n?"

     Blinking several times she looked around and saw the scattered faces of her friends. Everyone was panting heavily. Her face collapsed in the palm of her hands and she was breathing frantically, reminding herself to at least try and slow her lungs and heart. Her body rocked back and forth slightly, her adrenaline still pumping, needing an outlet. Needing to move. Finally, her breath began to slow and she looked up, nodding at her friends to ease their minds.

     "Thanks... Richie," she managed between breaths.

     "No problem," he panted, just as jarred. "Just for fuck sake, run next time, will ya?"

     Beverly and Eddie came into view and extended their hands for her and she gladly accepted both. Y/n hissed slightly at her aggravated leg and when she looked down she was relieved to see no further damage had been done. Shakily, Stan spoke up.

     "T-thanks, Y/n," His eyes held relief, but also a hint of guilt.

     A weak and broken smile was all Y/n could manage. Eddie had finally gathered enough air in his lungs to speak and he did just that, albeit quite shaken.

     "It saw us." He panted. "It saw us, and it knows where we are!"

     "It always did," Bill said, striding out towards the pile of bikes in the driveway. "So, let's go."

     "Go?" Ben asked, dumbfounded.

     Bill turned to see his friends still in the garage, rooted in place and looking at him incredulously.

     "Go where?" Ben asked again, this time his voice wavering.

     Bill couldn't believe what he was hearing.

     "Neibolt." He shot. "That's where G-G-Georgie is."

     Stan angrily threw his arm back, gesturing to the remains of their previous encounter.

     "After that?"

     "Yeah, it's summer. We should be outside." Richie said timidly, a tone they had scarcely heard him use if at all.

     Bill felt anger boil up in his chest at the words, his stutter flaring up with it as it usually did.

     "I-If you say it's s-summer one more f-f-fucking time..." He snapped, and he felt the anger redirect itself.

     Neibolt. He was going to Neibolt with or without his friends. He was going to get his brother. Bill shook his head, dismissing the conversation. He picked up his trusty bike and hopped on. He took off down the long driveway, leaving his friends behind.

     "Bill!" Beverly called. "Wait!"

     The seven friends look around at one another in disbelief, as Bill disappears around the corner on the back of Silver. He was going to face it alone, and in turn, he gave the Losers no choice less they surely lose their friend.

     They had to follow him.

+++

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[myrandomfandomramblings]

Arrowverse Science Fair AU

~2004 National Highschool (Gr. 8-12) Science Fair

Projects:

Felicity Smoak (Gr. 9) – Computer software to detect card counters. She may or may not have hacked into online card games to test it (this wasn’t included in/on her project.)

Cisco Ramon (Gr. 8 or 9) – Piano playing robot. He thought it played better than Dante. His parents didn’t agree.

Caitlin Snow (Gr. 9) – Analysis of physiological response to various stimuli. She wanted to find stimuli that would help kids cope with traumatic experiences (say crashing their bike or losing their father.) If she was able to find something that made her mom show some/any emotion that would be a bonus.

Barry Allen (Gr. 9) – Growing crystals (lots of different and cool ones). His project started out as an attempt to make something special for Iris for her birthday but turned into an elaborate project. It ended up being a good choice because 1) it reminded Barry of his parents (the first science experiment they did together was grow Borax crystals on pipecleaner and 2) it followed Joe’s ‘your science fair project must make, not destroy things’ rule instated after Barry’s Gr. 6 project.

Alex (Gr. 9) and Kara (Gr. 8) Danvers – Birds in my Backyard. Eliza had insisted on Alex getting Kara involved in her science fair project this year. Alex was excited to show Kara the science fair experience she enjoyed but wanted to pick a topic she knew more about that Kara (her knowledge of math and science was intimidating enough without the superpowers). Seeing Kara’s interest in birds they decided to study birds in their backyard. With Alex’s design and Kara’s powers they built tall post’s and attached bird houses and feeders with differing properties. They then monitored which kinds of birds built nests and ate from where (with some help from Kara’s flight and X-ray vision). Alex also picked 5 nests from different species to chronicle the embryo and chick development. Kara enjoyed doing the project and learning about birds from Alex. The actual science fairs, not so much but those were Alex’s favourite part. Note: Streaky was locked in the house for the duration of the project so he wouldn’t eat any of the birds.

Winn Schott (Gr. 11) – Pop-up room/ room in a suitcase. Being in the foster system for the last couple years inspired Winn to design a room that collapsed to the size of a suitcase for easy transport but could expand in less than a minute into a nice-sized, fully-furnished, sound-proof room, so no matter how many times a foster kid was moved around they always had their own space and stuff. Also good for camping, travel and special short-term events (like waiting in line at conventions).

Lena Luthor (Gr. 5) – Oxygen absorbing/releasing crystal that could allow breathing underwater. After her Mum drown when Lena was four, she was determined to develop a simple way for people to breath under water. She was able to do just that by synthesizing a substance that absorbed and stored large amounts of oxygen then released it slowly (so if someone held in in their mouth, they could breathe underwater). She was happy and excited that her mom and older brother were interested in her project but a little frustrated and concerned that they were so focused on its ability to absorb all the oxygen from a room (in a big enough amount). Although she supposed it could be used in that capacity to control/extinguish fires. Note: although in elementary school, Lena got to compete against the high schoolers since her project was so advanced for her age.

Sara Lance (Gr. 11) – The Biomechanics of Dance and Martial Arts. As punishment for skipping classes, then sassing her teacher and principal when they tried to discipline her for skipping classes, Sara had to complete a science fair project. To make the best of it Sara chose something that interested her. In hindsight she wished she hadn’t. Her project was so good she was chosen to represent her school at the state and national science fair.

Ronnie Raymond (Gr. 9-12?)- Structural design to minimize Superman related damage in Metropolis. Ronnie was proud of his project and had enjoyed analyzing the powers of Metropolis’ hero, but he lost any chance he had at winning when he decided to leave his project to go flirt with Caitlin. At least Kara, whose project was next to his, seemed interested.

Hartley Rathaway – something to do with sound waves

Lily Stein (Gr. 11) – designing and comparing different miniaturized forms of renewable energy sources. She had some help from her dad.

Patty Spivot – Recreation of crime scene evidence using food models. A bunch of her friends (her whole cabin actually) from her summer camp for those interested in law enforcement came to support her.

-       Maggie Sawyer – seemed really interested in the bird project

-       Ralph Dibny – found every project that said it was OK to touch. His favourite was slime. To Patty’s surprise he didn’t break anything.

-       Dinah Drake – hung out with Patty most of the time. Talked to Hartley, beside her, about his project on sound waves for a bit (seemed kinda interested). Patty joined her when she got into a conversation with Sara, across the way, and Laurel about the implications of her biomechanics project in fighting and self-defence. The rest of the time they talked about that Vince guy from camp Dinah thought was cute.

-       Eddie Thawne – he hung out with Patty most of the time too but did do a lap of the fair with Iris, who was there supporting Barry, when she accepted his offer to buy her something at the concession.

Notable events:

- Clark came to see Alex and Kara’s project and brought James and Lois with him. Kara and Clark (very subtly) tested the models on the project beside them that had been abandoned and were said to be superman proof/resistant. They were very impressed to discover the models did indeed stand-up to heat vison, freeze breath and super-strength leading Clark to believe the student had a bright future. James spent most of his time talking to Winn about his pop-up room project because, “Don’t you think these would be way better than cubicles, the Daily Planet should definitely purchase some.”

- Cat Grant, a young reporter from the National City Tribune pushing a stroller, came around and interviewed all the contestants because, “What better place to find the next world changing innovator or innovation” as she put it when she stopped to talk to Clark (more like flirt Kara thought). Alex used Clark distracting Cat as an opportunity to play with the baby in the stroller. This was the only time during the entire science fair Alex was distracted, except maybe when Maggie had come, but they mainly talked about the project like Alex did with everyone, which left Alex wondering why it felt different. During their entire interview Cat called Kara Kira, much to her annoyance. At least the baby seemed to like her. This interview sparked a conversation between Kara, Lois and Clark about journalism which Iris overhead while she was visiting Barry and joined in.

- Graduate students Ray Palmer and Curtis Holt were volunteer judges and ticket takers. Curtis wore a varsity jacket over his shirt and tie which covered his name tag, but at every project he judged he would describe every aspect as terrific, so the contestants started calling him Mr. Terrific. While judging Barry’s project they began a discussion about their favourite elements/minerals/gems. Barry couldn’t decide so joked he liked Barium. Ray shared his love for dwarf star alloy with a ‘quick’ lecture about its rumoured properties and potential uses. Curtis listed at least 10 compounds essential for modern tech as he flip-flopped back and forth trying to decide a favourite and Lex Luthor who was visiting his sister’s project beside them interjected that he favoured kryptonite. While taking tickets Curtis witnessed the following interaction. He asked Damian Darhk, who was carrying baby Nora, what brought him to the science fair. He responded with “These are the brightest young minds in the country and being young means they are malleable. So, there is nowhere better to recruit future talent for my enterprise.” Malcolm Merlyn, who was behind, him added “I know exactly what you mean with what the world’s coming to we’re going to need a bright mind to save it.” This led Tommy, who was accompanying him, to say “I thought we were just here to support the Queen’s.” Then one of the other judges, Dr. Harrison Wells aka Eobard Thawne in disguise, added “No your Dad is right. This world’s next HERO could be in this very room. I’ve already made a list of students to keep my eye on.” He pulled out a small piece of paper from his pocket. On it Curtis saw four names: Hartley Rathaway, Cisco Ramon, Caitlin Snow and Ronnie Raymond. This led to a long conversation between the three men about numerous threats to society, the country and the world and the possible drastic solutions that would need to be employed to stop them. When they left Curtis turned to Ray and asked, “Was it just me or were those Doomsday Dudes really creepy?” “What” Ray replied his attention clearly being pulled from elsewhere. But before Curtis could answer a voice behind him said “Doomsday Dudes is a terrible nickname you should call them the Legion of Doom.” Curtis turned to find Cisco. “Just saying,” he continued, “anyway I heard there’s free Big Belly Burger for the contestants. When’s that coming?” Ray had missed the entire conversation Curtis was asking about because he had been making funny faces at baby Nora the whole time hoping to make her smile or laugh but she had just stared at him with her big blue eyes.

- Queen consolidated gave out a $1500 scholarship and a summer internship at the applied sciences division. This year Moira and Robert had made Oliver come and brought 9-year-old Thea. Oliver was tasked with watching Thea who ran around the entire science fair wanting to look at and touch all the projects even the ones with big ‘Do Not Touch’ signs on them. She spent at least an hour trying to get everybody around the robot pianist to sing and dance with her. Most people ignored her although she was able to get Cisco, Winn, Stein, Joe, Kara (who kept trying to get Alex to join) and to Oliver’s surprise Malcolm Merlyn all to sing with her and they were all surprisingly good. She also got many people to dance including the Lance girls. She even convinced Cisco to make the robot play some of her favourite songs from Disney movies. Barry was very happy that he was able to convince Iris to dance with him for a couple songs with just a little encouragement from Thea and despite Kara’s constant encouragement Alex only agreed to dance when Maggie asked. Oliver had to present his family’s award which went to Felicity. When her name was announced Donna yelled “Woohoo, that’s my daughter! Way to go sweetie!” which earned a whispered “Mom, ssshh” and accompanied eye roll from Felicity as she headed to the stage with her head down and cheeks flushed. When she got onstage Oliver presented her with her award and Felicity began to babble, “Thanks. This is so cool. I’m such a big fan of yours… well not yours… your company… your family’s company. But uh you seem cool too. I could be a fan of yours, but not like a creepy stalker fan just like a normal supportive fan, ya know. I’m sorry, I’m rambling, it’s just, I don’t know what to say. Your very handsome… and I just said that out loud. I’m so sorry.” She stops and whispers “come on Smoak, pull yourself together,” then takes a deep breath before addressing Oliver again, “Thank-you again for the award and I look forward to working with you, or for you. I’m just gonna go now.” Oliver couldn’t help smiling as she left and thinking that just maybe if she had been around when Thea was partnering everyone up to dance he may have just participated.

- Kara quickly got bored of standing by her project and started wandering around to talk to the other contestants. She spent a good chunk of time talking to Barry. Tried to join in on a heated debate between Felicity, Cisco and Winn about the best language to code in but quickly left when she had no idea what they were talking about. She ended up spending most of her time with Lena. They talked about their projects, their lives and interests and about dealing with new and scary situations especially when you feel different from everyone else and learnt that they were both adopted. However, the whole time they were talking Lena’s eyes kept scanning the room as if waiting for something to jump out and scare her. Kara learnt why when a woman Kara thought must be Lena’s mother showed up and menacingly questioned why she was distracting her daughter.

- J’onn came in disguise to check out the Danvers sister’s project

[captainkippen]

A History of Two • A Reddie Fic

Eddie Kaspbrak's first crush came in middle school. It was on his best (and only) friend, Big Bill Denbrough. Bill was the kind of boy who made everyone he spoke to feel special - a leader right down to his bones. He could have any friends he wanted in the whole world even with his stutter, that much Eddie was certain of, yet he still chose to hang around with the short asthmatic kid he'd met in the park when they were five. This was a mystery to Eddie who was not blind to the fact he wasn't exactly the coolest kid around.

He was on the smaller side size-wise. His mother, liked to call him 'delicate' while everybody else called him 'scrawny'. When he went outside he would be laden down with an aspirator and a fanny pack of medical supplies, and God help him if he came back with so much as a scratch on him or his mother would haul him down to the emergency room in a second. This had had the rather depressing effect of making Eddie a target for bullies.

At school, older boys would laugh and call Eddie names, they'd shove him around and sneer at him, often asking Bill if it got annoying having his little boyfriend following him around like a lovesick puppy all the time. Bill never laughed along with them. He never defended himself either - never yelled "I'm not gay!" or put deliberate space between himself and Eddie even though they both knew he'd have an easier time of it if he did - something which Eddie was eternally grateful for. Instead he'd flip those boys the bird then turn to Eddie and joke "Don't worry, I know you could do much better than me."

Eddie would smile back and roll his eyes, pushing down on the urge to blurt out how wrong he thought Bill was about that.  

So for several years, it was just the two of them. Eddie would show Bill how to fix his bike the way he wanted all the while trying not to get oil on his pants so his mother wouldn't yell at him, and in return Bill would tell him stories as they worked. Bill's stories were wonderful - filled with adventure and friendship, dashing knights and beautiful maidens. Listening to them made Eddie's heart swell. Once on his birthday, Bill had gifted him a book of those same stories written down and Eddie could've sworn his heart would burst from joy. He wondered if he would ever stop loving Bill Denbrough.

The answer was yes and no because love changes, fluidly switching between romantic and platonic as it pleases with no concern for the heart to which it is attached. Eddie would grow to love Big Bill Denbrough as a brother while the romance in his heart fell to another.

Richie Tozier was nothing like Bill and he was even less like Eddie. He was a loud brash boy with coke-bottle glasses that made his eyes look almost comically wide. He met Bill in sixth grade who in turn introduced him to Eddie, much to Eddie's own dismay. In class he would often mouth off to teachers in a fashion that suggested he couldn't really help himself. This irked Eddie, but what irked him even more was the way that Richie would call him cute and laugh at his own jokes all the while telling him to lighten up when Eddie scowled. Sometimes he would pinch his cheeks or shorten his name to Eds,  and even though Eddie did not believe in violence it would often end in him threatening to punch Richie.

So yes, Richie had the most annoying habit of grinding Eddie's gears like it was his full-time job. Consequently, Eddie spent several mornings complaining to Bill asking why they had to hang out with such a jerk, to which Bill would reply by saying Richie was cool when you got to know him. Eddie had his doubts.

Until...

"Hey, runt! You can't run from us!"

It's a good thing Eddie is so fast because it's the only reason he's managing to escape the wrath of Henry Bowers and his gang of miscreants right now. His legs carry him forward without him even thinking about it. All his focus is pointed towards getting away and surviving the afternoon.

It's a hot summer day, so hot that hazy little heat waves emanate from the surface of the sidewalks. When Eddie had left the house this morning he'd intended to head down to the Barrens, he and Bill's preferred place to play, thinking maybe the two of them (and probably Bill's kid brother George too) could play swords with some of the sticks they'd found last time. This was not to be the case though, as he learned when he knocked at the Denbrough's door. Bill and George had gone with their father to buy tools from the hardware store. Eddie didn't feel like waiting around for them to get back - Mrs Denbrough had offered a glass of milk but she always looked at him with such pity for reasons he didn't really understand and it made him uncomfortable. So he had politely declined and wandered off into town in search of something to do.

Unfortunately for him, Bowers and his gang had been looking for something to do too. As soon as they spotted him it became apparent that knocking him around would be amusement enough. Eddie had had enough sense to start sprinting.

He would have escaped entirely if it were not somebody stepping out of the corner shop door as he flies by it. The resulting collision is an epic mess of limbs and surprised shouts. When Eddie looks up he finds Richie staring back at him.

"Where's the fire, Eds?" He asks, then he spots Bowers coming towards them and his eyes widen. Quickly he's tugging Eddie up and they're running once again.

It seems hopeless. Pain shoots up Eddie's ankle and he thinks 'Oh God, another trip to the emergency room.' They're never going to get away. The gang is gaining on them now, all cruel laughter and insults, but then-

Richie kicks a dustbin backwards as they pass, he kicks it hard, and it goes flying into Bower's. There's a noise of pained rage but it's enough of a distraction for them to finally get away. The clanging and the yelling is joined by adult voices asking what the hell is going on out here, and when Eddie and Richie turn the corner they're free.

They head for Richie's house, he explains his parents aren't home, and when they get there Richie's fingers are tender as they wrap Eddie's ankle in ice.

"Gotta be more careful, Guv'na! Or 'em damn rascals 'll getcha!" He says with a cheerful smile as he pays Eddie's knee. It's what he calls his 'British Constable voice', which Eddie usually hates but this time it draws a laugh out of him.

It was in that moment that Eddie realised Richie's teasing words were not deliberate attempts to get a rise out of him but rather his own special, and slightly irritating, brand of affection. That was the first time he knew for sure that they had become real friends.

By eighth grade Eddie and Richie were no longer allowed to sit next to one another in class. In fact, they were often put on opposite sides of the room. In all honesty, this was through no fault of Eddie's. It was Richie who was unable to keep his mouth shut, and it was not Eddie's fault that the boy had a certain talent for making laughter bubble up inside him exploding in an unwanted burst of giggles. Richie remained unable to keep his mouth shut whether he was next to Eddie or not, but at least when they were apart he had less incentive to crack jokes every five seconds.

They may have been able to separate them in a classroom, but the teachers at Derry Middle School had no place preventing laughter on the playground and so it became normal for Eddie to watch the clock in class counting down the minutes until one became three for lunchtime. He, Richie and Bill would throw themselves down under the large oak tree on the playing field and share torn off pieces of sandwiches while pouring over the latest issues of their favourite comic books.

Eddie's mother did not like Richie. He was too loud for her aging ears and he had a tendency to knock things over by accident while gesturing. The Kaspbrak house was filled with many a delicate antique, or at least what Mrs. Kaspbrak liked to think of as antiques, and several had met their doom as a result of Richie's flailing limbs. Despite this, she was helpless to stop him from visiting because by that point Eddie and Richie had become EddieAndRichie, attached at the hip and seen everywhere together or not at all, and so she was forced to accept that desperately hiding her precious china when she heard footsteps coming up the porch was a tedious forever part of their lives.

Their group expanded from three to five and then on to seven when they hit high school. First to join them was Stan Uris, a neat bookish boy whom Bill had met through bird watching. He had a sneaky wit about him and enjoyed going on runs with Eddie in the morning. On group outings he began bringing along his friend Mike Hanlon, who up until recently had been home schooled. Mike gave the best advice and saw more reason than his friends, often getting them out of trouble. Eddie was grateful for his friendship.

Then along came Beverly Marsh and Ben Hanscom, two other regular victims of Bowers gang boredom. Beverly was fiesty and unafraid - she and Richie got along like a house on fire. Eddie was never sure which he felt for her more: envy or admiration. Probably the second one. He hoped it was the second one. Ben was sweet and spent many afternoons in Bill's garage with them building all sorts of strange structures. He looked at Bev like she was the sun and he would paint the skies for her. Eddie wondered if he realised she looked at him the same way or he was too blinded by his own low self-esteem to realise.

The group became his lifeline; the Loser's Club they called themselves. For the seven of them, weekends were filled with visits to the Aladdin, the local movie theatre, and picnics down at the Barrens. They would start campfires and have Bill tell stories. Richie would butt in with his terrible impressions and Ben would laugh so hard he got a stitch. Everything felt right when they were all together.

At some point during that time, though Eddie couldn't pinpoint exactly when, they had knit together and become a family of sorts. He loved them wholly and completely, and he knew they loved him back in a similar fashion. It was a blinding sort of unquestionable love, which is probably why it took so long for Eddie to realise what he felt for Richie was different for what he felt for the others.

It was in twelfth grade that Eddie Kaspbrak finally realised he was in love with Richie Tozier, and it hit him like a ton of bricks.

[kronos-the-timelord]

Dude, do all of the numbers for that getting to know you better ask! Or half bc 200 is a lot :0

ahhhhhh,, you so nice

1: My name? - Margaret

2: Do I have any nicknames? - maggie, mag, mags, maggles, at one point my friends called me parky

3: Zodiac sign? - libra

4: Video game I play to chill, not to win? - i’ve never been too good at video games (but i like watching ppl playing them) and i’ve only ever had a wii so my sims kingdom was a favorite of mine

5: Book/series I reread? - divergent and pjo

6: Aliens or ghosts? - yes

7: Writer I trust enough to read whatever they write? - @kata-chthonia

8: Favourite radio station? - 103.3 fm, although i mostly listen to spotify now

9: Favourite flavour of anything? - grape and blue raspberry

10: The word that I use all the time to describe something great? - great or cool

11: Favourite song? - a to b by matt hires

12: The question you ask new friends to get to know them better? - it usually has to do with what drew me to them in the first place followed up by a version ‘why do you think that?’ i like knowing how ppl think bc it gives me a better way to start understand their view

13: Favourite word? - aurora

14: The last person who hurt me, did I forgive them? - i can’t really remember, so i dont know what that says :/

15: Last song I listened to? - serial killer by moncrieff

16: TV show I always recommend? - dexter or if they don’t like blood and violence, any of john mulaneys specials

17: Pirates or ninjas? - i liked pirates when i was younger, but ninjas are cool

18: Movie I watch when I’m feeling down? - any studio ghibli or song of the sea

19: Song that I always start my shuffle with/wake-up song/always-on-a-loop song? - lately its been SLUT by bea miller

20: Favourite video games? - i really love boderlands, the art style is great

21: What am I most afraid of? - snakes and failing at something i’ve been saying that i wanted to do my entire life

22: A good quality of mine? - im nice??

23: A bad quality of mine? - im a bit aggressive and im really blunt about things

24: Cats or dogs? - dogs!! I like cats too but i dont know how to interact with them

25: Actor/actress you trust enough to watch whatever they’re in? - he’s a voice actor, but crispin freeman is really cool!

26: Favourite season? - fall and spring

27: Am I in a relationship? - yeah, but it’s long distance during the school year ;-;

28: Something I miss? - my boi,, he’ll be back soon tho

29: My best friend? @keencheckerboard and @memeathon

30: Eye colour? - brown

31: Hair colour? - brown with red and blonde highlights

32: Someone I love? - my mom

33: Someone I trust? - @keencheckerboard

34: Someone I always think about? - @memeathon

35: Am I excited about anything? - finals to be over!

36: My current obsession? - bnha tbh

37: Favourite TV shows as a child? - i loved avatar and ed, edd, and eddy

38: Do I have someone of the opposite sex that I can tell everything to? - to an extent, but i dont tell them /every/thing

39: Am I superstitious? - kind of

40: What do I think about most? - right now, school

41: Do I have any strange phobias? - not really, i mean i overthink a lot of things, but there’s no phobias

42: Do I prefer to be in front of the camera or behind it? behind

43: Favourite hobbies? - drawing/reading/writing/sleeping

44: Last book I read? - i think it was called stung, i actually finished it bc i wanted to complain about it properly

45: Last film I watched? - dumbo, my friend wanted to go see it, it wasnt good

46: Do I play any instruments? - i played clarinet for 3 years

47: Favourite animal? - dogs

48: Top 5 blog on Tumblr that I follow? - @wemakuu @wemakuutwo @keencheckerboard @memeathon @kata-chthonia

49: Superpower I wish I could have? - teleportation

50: How do I destress? - getting cozy and warm under my blankets with the lights off

51: Do I like confrontation? - i can be aggressive so i will be confrontational if i have to but i don’t go out of my way for it

52: When do I feel most at peace? - in my bed with the lights off

53: What makes me smile? - my friends, my boi, and goofy animal videos

54: Do I sleep with the lights on or off? - gotta be pitch black

55: Play any sports? - i played roller derby for 3 years

56: What is my song of the week? - really feeling be by hozier

57: Favourite drink? - …..water…. and a slushee

58: When did I last send a handwritten letter to somebody? - i think last summer???

59: Afraid of heights? - nope

60: Pet peeve? - slow walkers

61: What was the last concert I went to see? - does my high school’s band count???

62: Am I vegetarian/vegan/pescatarian? - nah

63: What occupation did I want to do when I was younger? - ob nurse, i still do

64: Have I ever had a friend turn enemy? - no, i’ve had ppl i tolerated turn into ppl i hate tho

65: What fictional universe would I like to be a part of? - bhna, but i feel the hero drama would get annoying after awhile

66: Something I worry about? - failing my classes

67: Scared of the dark? - nope

68: Who are my best friends? - this is the same as 29

69: What do I admire most about others? - their drive and where their motivation comes from

70: Can I sing? - no ;-;

71: Something I wish I could do? - sing

72: If I won the lottery, what would I do? - pay off my loans and (hopefully) for the rest of my college and then put whatever i had left into a savings account

73: Have I ever skipped school? - yes

74: Favourite place on the planet? - i think the smoky mountains are really pretty and i loved vacationing around them, but colorado was really neat too, so probs one of those places

75: Where do I want to live? - somewhere on the northeast coast!

76: Do I have any pets? - yeah!! He’s a doggo named dageus,,,, here he is,, the big boi!! (hes 121 pounds of love!!!!!)

77: What is my current desktop picture? - something @memeathon drew me

78: Early bird or night owl? - night owl

79: Sunsets or sunrise? - im usually awake during sunset, but sunrise is really pretty

80: Can I drive? - yeah!

81: Story behind my last kiss? - i was saying bye to my boi at the airport

82: Earphones or headphones? - earphones

83: Have I ever had braces? - yeah,, they weren’t fun

84: Story behind one of my scars? - i have a couple little ones from acne on my back but other than that i don’t have any

85: Favourite genre of music? - i think indie rock?? Is that a genre?? Punk maybe????

86: Who is my hero? - florence nightingale,, she was hella cool and i went to her museum in london

87: Favourite comic book character? - i didn’t read a lot of comic books but i always liked spiderman and witchblade

88: What makes me really angry? - when ppl make fun of my friends >:l

89: Kindle or real book? - i like real books but ebooks are nice for traveling!!

90: Favourite sporty activity? - roller derby or skating

91: What is one thing that isn’t tight in schools that should be? - im not really sure what this question means????? But i didn’t like that in my middle school that the behavior coach(es) would already pick sides or would already hate kids that did nothing wrong and then in my high school no one cleaned up after themselves bc ‘the janitors can do it’ :/ it was really annoying

92: What was my favourite subject at school? - english/creative writing and art!!

93: Siblings? - i got an older brother who’s a big nerd

94: What was the last thing I bought? - i went to target last night and i got $68 worth of stuff including planty stuff, food, and gift stuff for my boyfriend’s moms

95: How tall am I? - 5’6” but i will not hesitate bitch

96: Can I cook? - yeah!

97: Can I bake? - yeah!

98: 3 things I love? - my friends/family, animals, and plants

99: 3 things I hate? - slow walkers, rasict/homo/trans/biphobic (anyone who just hates ppl for no reason tbh), and rude ppl >:l

100: Do I have more girl friends or boy friends? - more girl friends,,, i’ve kinda lost contact with most of my guy friends over the years,,,,

101: Who do I get on with better, girls or boys? - i feel more comfortable around other girls now but when i was younger i was okay with everyone

102: Where was I born? - in the cornfields of the midwest (i fucking hate this state)

103: Sexual orientation? - straight

104: Where do I currently live? - in the cornfields of the midwest, i am the creature you’re warned about, don’t walk alone at night

105: Last person I texted? - @memeathon : D

106: Last time I cried? - yesterday,,, finals hit me hard but i feel better now :D

107: Guilty pleasure? - uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh,,,,,, looking at gross stuff,,, like surgeries and sometimes those pimple popping videos,,,,,,,,

108: Favourite Youtuber? - i’ve been watching a lot of gordon ramsay videos lately but i think brandon rogers or sovietwomble are up there

109: A photo of myself. - heres one i took on my break at work

110: Do I like selfies? - no,,, i don’t really like looking back on photos of myself bc i think i just look weird,, like even in my super nice senior photos,,, or baby pictures,,

111: Favourite game app? - does neko astsume count???

112: My relationship with my parents? - it’s p good :D

113: Favourite accents? - i’m not really sure,,, i think just a flat accent, like midwestern bc its the one im most familiar with so its like homey???????

114: A place I have not been but wish to visit? - japan,, nowhere in specific i just want to see the country

115: Favourite number? - 23!!!!

116: Can I juggle? - no

117: Am I religious? - im a polytheist (a bad one, but oh well)

118: Do I like space? - i love space!!!! Its so neat!!!!!!

119: Do I like the deep ocean? - no!!! Its awful!!!!

120: Am I much of a daredevil? - i think my friends think i am, but i dont really think so, i mean i’ll try anything if it sounds fun, but not everything

121: Am I allergic to anything? - not that i know of

122: Can I curl my tongue? - yes

123: Can I wiggle my ears? - no

124: Do I like clowns? - not really

125: The Beatles or Elvis? - a little bit of each

126: My current project? - my creative writing portfolio ;-; its not that hard but im trying to figure out how to get this character right

127: Am I a bad loser? - depends on what i lost in, like if it was a game i didn’t really care about than no, but if it was something that i cared about a lot than yeah

128: Do I admit when I wrong? - i always try to, but sometimes i don’t

129: Forest or beach? - forest,, i don’t like the beach,, too much sand

130: Favourite piece of advice? - it’s not really advice but just the reminder that your current situation is not your final destination

131: Am I a good liar? - i think so

132: Hogwarts house / Divergent faction / Hunger Games district? - slytherin (its funny bc im scared of snakes)/ dauntless/ and i think district 6 (i live in the crossroads of america so yeah)

133: Do I talk to myself? - all the fucking time

134: Am I very social? - sometimes, i am kinda a social introvert

135: Do I like gossip? - i like to hear it but not be part of it

136: Do I keep a journal/diary? - i have a bullet journal and i try to keep up with my habit and mood tracker daily

137: Have I ever hopelessly failed a test? - no, but i have gotten like high d’s and low c’s before that make me sad

138: Do I believe in second chances? - depends on what they messed up on the first chance, like if someone cheated then no

139: If I found a wallet full of cash on the ground, what would I do? - i would like to say that i would return it with no money taken, but im just not sure :/

140: Do I believe people are capable of change? - yeah, if they’re really trying and realize that they need to, but even if they do change i know not everyone will accept them back into their lives and it shouldn’t be expected that they should after someone changes for the better

141: Have I ever been underweight? - no

142: Am I ticklish? - very and i have this weird tactile thing thats like i dont like ppl lightly touching me, it freaks me out

143: Have I ever been in a submarine? - no

144: Have I ever been on a plane? - yes!! I love flying!! Its so much fun!!

145: In a film about my life, who would I cast as myself, friends and family? - uhhhh,, im going to go by face,, i think for me - shailene woodley bc when she had her short hair ppl told me i looked like her @meme - liana liberato, she got the round face @keen - winona ryder (but back in beetlejuice) boyfriend - tucker west, i know he’s not an actor but he looks so much like him,,,, also it took me forever just to find these guys so im not finding family :p

146: Have I ever been overweight? - no

147: Do I have any piercings? - i have my ears pierced!

148: Which fictional character do I wish was real? - hari jurono,,, i love him ;-;

149: Do I have any tattoos? - no, but i already have some picked out that i want

150: What is the best decision I have made in life so far? - ummmm??? Im not sure?????

151: Do I believe in Karma? - yeah

152: Do I wear glasses or contacts? - contacts during the day and glasses at night

153: What was my first car? - i have a subaru crosstrek named inko!!! I love her!!

154: Do I want children? - no

155: Who is the most intelligent person I know? - my mom tbh,,, shes really smart

156: My most embarrassing memory? - omfg,, so this goes to show how oblivious i am about social interactions, but it was my first week in college and this junior was talking to me and i didnt realize he was flirting with me until after we traded snapchats and he left, so i panicked and never said anything to him again and blocked him

157: What makes me nostalgic? - when i walk around my neighborhood sometimes (i live near the preschool i went to) and i was over at my elementary school almost a year ago now, but i remember walking down the hall and seeing all the different teachers there now and it made me sad

158: Have I ever pulled an all-nighter? - yes, just last week

159: Which do I value more in others, brains or beauty? - brains

160: What colour mostly dominates my wardrobe? - darker colors like black and blue, but im trying to get lighter ones in there too

161: Have I ever had a paranormal experience? - yes, many times, but the one that sticks out to me is that one night i woke up at like 5 am for no reason, but i was just suddenly wide awake and something felt off, so i was trying to get comfy again and flipped over on my other side so i was facinging the door into my room instead of my wall and in front of my door was a tall black figure with red eyes staring at me and when i blinked it went away,, now i know this can be explained by some other things but with my family it seems more likely to be paranormal

162: What do I hate most about myself? - uhh, i procrastinate way too much

163: What do I love most about myself? - i always support my friends

164: Do I like adventure? - depends on the adventure,,, i like traveling, but not too much walking bc i have bad knees

165: Do I believe in fate? - not really

166: Favourite animal? - question 47

167: Have I ever been on radio? - no, but i was on my school’s announcements and i hated it

168: Have I ever been on TV? - no

169: How old am I? - 19

170: One of my favourite quotes? - “The Gods envy us. They envy us because we’re mortal, because any moment could be our last. Everything is more beautiful because we’re doomed”

171: Do I hold grudges? - im petty

172: Do I trust easily? - no,, im just cautious around ppl bc i just don’t know them

173: Have I learnt from my mistakes? - some of them

174: Best gift I’ve ever received? - im not too sure,,, i got a p cool backpack for my birthday tho that i use everyday

175: Do I dream? - yeah, cant remember too many tho

176: Have I ever had a night terror? - no??

177: Do I remember my dreams, and what is one that comes to mind? - can’t remember a lot after i wake up, but i just recently had one with some bnha characters in it, i can’t remember what happened, i just know that they were there

178: An experience that has made me stronger? - i know this might sound a bit morbid, but my aunt’s funeral, it was the first funeral i went to where i understood what was happening and it made me more open to learning and accepting death

179: If I were immortal, what would I do? - want to fucking die,,, i’ve never understood ppl who are scared of dying/want to live forever,, like why would you want that??? What’s the point??? You’ll just watch everyone you love die,,, i know it’s going to be hard on me when that happens to my closer family members, but even the new ppl you befriend,, i just couldn’t

180: Do I like shopping? - yeas

181: If I could get away with a crime, what would I choose to do? - tax evasion

182: What does “family” mean to me? - the ppl who i care about deeply and who love me, not all of them are blood related and not all the blood related ones are part of it

183: What is my spirit animal? - idk?????? Maybe a turtle???

184: How do I want to be remembered? - tbh, i don’t really want to be remembered

185: If I could master one skill, what would I choose? - drawing

186: What is my greatest failure? - im not sure

187: What is my greatest achievement? - uhh, i feel like its hard to point at a specific point and be like “that was the best thing i could have done, if i didn’t do that i wouldn’t be who i am today”

188: Love or money? - money

189: Love or career? - career

190: If I could time travel, where and when would I want to go? - probably to some point in the future,, i dont know where tho

191: What makes me the happiest? - the ppl i care about being happy

192: What is “home” to me? - the house i currently live in,, my family is here and im surrounded by ppl i love,, it’ll probably change with time, but for now its here

193: What motivates me? - spite

194: If I could choose my last words, what would they be? - it’s important to keep moving forward, don’t let the past hold you down

195: Would I ever want to encounter aliens? - kind of, i think it would be p cool

196: A movie that scared me as a child? - it wasn’t a movie but i know the animated wolf from peter and the wolf freaked me out

197: Something I hated as a child that I like now? - i hated mushrooms, but i love them now

198: Zombies or vampires? - vampires

199: Live in the city or suburbs? - suburbs super close to city

200: Dragons or wizards? - DRAGONS

201: A nightmare that has stayed with me? - its silly but when i was younger it would be my mom and i going to the mall downtown and the escalators were missing the part that connected them to the floor so you had to hop over it and when we would get to the 4th floor i would miss the jump and fall

202: How do I define love? - i know a lot of ppl are like “i would die for you or kill for you” something along those lines but i think it’s more living for someone, wanting to see them accomplish everything they wanted, being there for them during their lows203: Do I judge a book by its cover? - yeah, i wont pick up something that doesnt catch my eye

204: Have I ever had my heart broken? - no

205: Do I like my handwriting? - yeah!! Its loopy

206: Sweet or savoury? - sweet

207: Worst job I’ve had? - ive liked all the jobs ive had

208: Do I collect anything? no

209: Item of clothing or jewellery you’ll never see me without? - a hoodie/sweater of some kind

210: What is on my bucket list? - going to greece

211: How do I handle anger? - i usually rant for a bit, maybe cry to get the extra hormones out, maybe break something

212: Was I named after anyone? - no, but i did have the same name as my great grandma

213: Do I use sarcasm a lot? - yes

214: What TV character am I most like? - im been watching bnha a lot so i think either kirishima or uraraka

215: What is the weirdest talent I have? - i can cross my eyes and then move one of them

216: Favourite fictional character? - ,,,,, im not sure,, i really love eric from divergent

[nicpotyedki]

Celestial Waterfall

English is not my native language, sorry for all mistakes! Please, be forgiving! I do my best! It’s my first fanfic in the fandom and probably last one (I think comic are better for me but I wanted to try fanfic anyway). The story is short, uncomplicated and the plot is simple. Look at it with a pinch of salt and try to have fun! Feel free to write your opinion if you want! And thanks for reading!

Thank you for request, @eene-fangirl! ~~ ^^

It was the middle of summer. A very hot summer. Usually at this time of year Peach Greek was vibrant. But not today. Anyone who was outside the house could swear that the temperature exceeded 200 degrees Celsius. Even the water in the pools was so hot that it resembled a Jacuzzi. Kevin wandered around the garbage dump to find entertainment. Among the used old and nothing worth of trash, you can sometimes find real treasures here. He knew it well. He once found a broken bike pump, which, thanks to the help of his father, worked today as new or at least medium-used. Kevin saw in the heap of old boxes a metal pipe that looked like a bicycle's steering wheel. He immediately extracted the metal part from under the rubbish heap. However, it turned out that it wasn’t steering, or any other part of the bicycle. Kevin paused for a moment, turning a strange metal object in his hands. It looked very familiar. He was sure that he already saw it already. Sure! It's a garden tool for watering the lawn. Through small openings, water flowed under great pressure like in a fountain. The perfect thing for today's weather. It looks like the garden hose is broken, but it's not a big problem. Kevin contentedly cleared his find. Suddenly, he heard someone shout behind his back.

-          Don't dare to touch it! It belongs to me!

It was Eddy's voice. Kevin looked at the pile of broken furniture, at the top of which stood Eddy with rage in his eyes.

-          “To me”? - Kevin mocked. – Get lost, Dork! I found it first!

-          This zone belongs to us! - Eddy jumped and stood opposite Kevin.

-          There are no zones here, Dork. And I won’t give it to you because I need it. Air conditioning broke down in my house. - Kevin tried to settle the dispute peacefully, but eventually waved his hand. – No matter. I have to go. Bye.

He grabbed the equipment carefully so as not to stain his blouse and he turned towards the exit. But Eddy grabbed the garden tool and yanked it.

-          I don’t care, Kevin! You will have to pay me to use it!

They both pulled with all their strength, and none of them had any intention of resigning. Finally Kevin shouted:

-          Enough! Stop it, Dork!! Let's deal with it like men! - Eddy blinked a bit confused.

-          …What? What do you mean? No negotiations. This… this “Celestial Waterfall” belongs to me!

Kevin pushed Eddy away and proudly tensed his chest.

-          Let's play a small beach ball game. The winner takes this miracle. - Kevin rested the trophy on his shoulder.

-          It's a provocation, right? - Eddy smirked.

-          It’s a challenge! - Kevin gave him a lofty look. - Tomorrow. In the afternoon. You and your team. On the beach. And if you really want your Niagara, don’t forget to bring luck with you, Dork.

-          I happen to be in a generous mood and I will grant your boon. You will need more luck, anyway.

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The next day, they both appeared on the beach with their teams.  Kevin’s team consisted of all kids of Cul-De-Sac.  The promise of winning a waterfall on this hot day was enough to motivate everyone to take part in the game. Kankers joined Eds’s team. It wasn’t difficult to encourage them, because Eds's visit made them very happy, and the opportunity to compete was something they could not give up apsolutely. The sun was still high in the sky when Kevin appeared on the beach with a large sports bag on his shoulder and a volleyball ball. Everyone was already there, and the atmosphere of competition was strongly felt in both teams.

-          Your presence here is proof that you want to compromise yourself. - Eddy took off his sunglasses when he saw Kevin. - Where's the trophy, cheat?

-          Word has been said! - Kevin threw his bag on the sand. - The winner takes the bag along with its contents!

-          And there's a fountain inside, right? - Jimmy beamed at the thought of it.

-          “Waterfall” - Sara corrected him. - That's what Kevin claims in any case. - She added with some doubt.

-          How did you manage to put a See cascade in such a small Tasche? - Rolf lifted the black bag gently in disbelief.

-          Hey! - Kevin shouted and snatched the trophy from him. – Not now! We will enjoy it when we win!

-          Kevin, is the water in this waterfall pleasantly cool? - Nazz asked, whose forelock was already stuck to her forehead because of the sweat.

-          And is it enough for all of us? – Jimmy asked.

-          I've already told you! All in good time! We’ll win the match first! - Kevin replied impatiently, irritated a bit by the constant questions.

-          I’m afraid that you’ll have to pour money to enjoy our miracle of nature. - Eddy put his arm around Jimmy with a sly smile. - Although only winners have the right to use the “Celestial Waterfall” but we’ll give you the opportunity to take advantage of our prize for the appropriate payment.

-          Eddy… - Edd began with some anxiety. - According to my superficial calculations, this bag can accommodate 6 liters of water, so it’s impossible to have a waterfall inside.

-          Wait for the win, Sockhead! - Eddy rubbed his hands. - It will be a hit of the summer season and a good profit.

 Everyone took their part of the pitch, and after a while the game began. Kevin and Eddy stood under the net, exchanging rival looks. However, the atmosphere of competition could be felt not only between team leaders. Nazz felt like at home. Fiercely and with a certain dedication she bounces every ball. It didn’t matter to her that she had fallen on the hot sand that was sticking to her sweaty body and getting caught in her hair. Kevin honored every bounced ball with a triumphant exclamation. Sarah constantly reprimanded Rolf, who couldn't quite understand the rules of the game, and his throws were so strong that each time the ball was out of the pitch. Due to not very nice comments directed towards Rolf, Sarah usually missed her balls, which additionally brought the nervous atmosphere in her team and the atmosphere of joy in the opponent's team. The situation was saved by Jonny, who to everyone's surprise knew the many tricks that Plank told him. However, the weak Jimmy felt pain at every stroke of the ball, and his well-groomed and delicate hands suffered so much. At one point Nazz, wanting to hit the ball, fell into Jimmy with impetus and drove him into the sand. Jimmy's mouth was full of sand and his orthodontic appliance contorted. For this reason, he was forced to leave the playing field, which resulted in one player missing from the Kevin team. It seemed, however, that only now the odds in both teams were equal, because despite the fact that the composition of Eddy's team consisted of six people, in fact Edd was a ghost player. Traumatic fear of balls made Double D avoid every ball that flew in his direction. He usually turned away or covered himself with his hands to protect his face and head. In addition, the persistent sun stung Ed's skin like a pins, which made both teams nervous with his groans. It seemed that Ed didn’t quite understand what was going on around him because he was only standing in the spot letting the ball bounce off his head. However, it gave great results so nobody in his team really didn't mind it. Kankers absolutely did not care about the rules of the game and often bend the rules, laughing aloud at the same time. Only Eddy tried to protect the team's honor by proving that a small man can cast a big shadow. Despite his short height, he jumped very high, and that allowed him to defend almost every ball. However, the most joy was given him by points scored by his team in a dishonest way.

The match was fierce, but the teams went head-to-head. It was a tie. Everyone was sweaty, tired and burnt by the sun when the leaders finally ordered a break. Sarah and Jimmy immediately ran to cool off in the lake. Edd rubbed all sunscreen into his skin. Kevin and Eddy were breathing hard and rubbing sweat from their faces, but they were still giving each other a hostile look.

-          What shameful fouls! - Eddy labored for a lofty look, but the sun was blinding him.

-          It's not art to be good when it's cheated. - Kevin gasped with difficulty.

-          Do yourself a favor and give back what belongs to us. - Lee interjected. Fatigue was barely visible on her.

-          We also want to collect our payment. – May gracefully arched and blinked toward Ed who, if not the fact that he was already wet, would sweat immediately.

-          It was me who found the waterfall and regardless of everything it belongs to me. - Kevin was clearly nervous. – And I proposed this match just to bring you down a peg, Dork! – Kevin shouted.

-          Hey, guys, stop it immediately. It’s just fun. - Nazz tried to calm down the situation, but there was no doubt that she also wanted to win.

-          You should choose words better, Kev! – Eddy said with satisfaction. - Because it looks like you're making a fool of yourself by your rashness.

-          The break is over!! - Kevin turned red on his face. – Team, get out of the water and return to the playing field!! In a jiffy!!

Everyone was lumbering and not willingly returned to their playgrounds.

-          Sarah, I am tired already. I can’t wait to chill in our waterfall. - Jimmy has sunk in dreams.

-          There is no problem, Jimmy! - Proudly shouted Eddy. - Just don’t forget the wallet!

-          Eddy! - Edd was clearly annoyed with the whole situation. – Don’t you think that charging for such basic and necessary raw material as water is at least a lack of tact, in fact I would say ...?

-          GUYS! - Kevin could not stand it. – It’s a tie! This is the decisive ball! Rolf! Where are you?! - Kevin was furious to see an empty seat on the pitch.

-          So, I found this waterfall… suposlly. -  Rolf held the garden tool that was previously in Kevin's bag.

-          Rolf, you silly! - Nazz snorted with sincere laughter. – It’s not a waterfall! It's a piece of scrap metal!

-          Rolf,  what are you doing? – Kevin didn’t have the strength for it all anymore. – Not yet! We need to get one more point, but this is a pure formality.

-          Rolf wanted to find only a Flasche of Wasser in the Tasche, but he found something that he remembers ding to his Nana’s Tracker. – He tried to justify himself.

-          One moment! What's that supposed to mean? - Sara became nervous.

-          Where’s “Waterfall”? - Nazz was clearly worried.

-          Plank says it’s a trash! - Jonny shouted.

-          Not exactly. - Edd noticed. - It seems to be an old sprinkler.

-          I feel cheated! - Jimmy was in despair.

-          Rolf sacrificed all Tag to play your comic Spiel while he should cut the sheep. - Rolf dropped the sprinkler into the sand.

-          We all played in this murderous heat to win a waterfall! Kevin, how could you?! – Nazz couldn’t believe it.

-          What a misery! Play it yourself! - Sarah shouted furiously.

-          Why is fate so perverse? - Jimmy whined.

-          Eddy! - Edd crossed his arms over his chest. He intended to give a sermon, but for lack of strength he gave up. He just sighed. - What did I expect?

-          Not nice, my dear! - Ed waved reproachfully his finger, but he didn’t really look angry.

-          Hey, sweety! - Kankers stood in front of him.

-          It's time for our payment. - Lee gently smiled.

Eddy  was confused, not only by directness of Lee, but also by the reactions of Double D and Ed.

-          Wait! The payment is only valid for the won match. We haven’t won anything yet. - Eddy tried to get out of this situation somehow.

-          Rolf’s got enough of your muddle. - Rolf got angry. - Rolf returns to the farm! It's time to drink Ruebe juice and feed Huehner!

-          Chickens!! Ed goes with Rolf! – Ed was immediately happy.

-          At least DU are useful, gross Ed! – Rolf smiled.

Ed eagerly ran after Rolf, without turning to his team.

-          Kevin, it was really mean! - Sweaty and furious Nazz shouted. She grabbed her beach bag, then without turning back to him she called. – You are so childish!

When she went away her sunglasses fell out. May noticed it. She grabbed it and ran after Nazz.

-          Hey, Blonde! You lost something!

-          Oh, thank you! - Nazz turned and took her property. - I'm so silly. - She tried to calm down.

-          Wow! - May screamed when she saw Nazz’s hand. - You have so beautiful nails! They have such a lovely color!

-          It's the color from the new collection! – Nazz was pleased to hear such a compliment. – My own mix! I have it with me if you want to try it. If you love nail polishes then come with me. At home I mix and test new colors. - Conversation with May clearly calmed her emotions.

Meanwhile, the rest of Kankers  didn’t bother with Eds anymore  too. Marie was charmed by Jonny's tactics and tricks that’s why Plank agreed to show her some tricks. Lee said that the guys are liars and pigs with which Sarah immediately agreed. That's why they left the beach in their company. They also found many common features and themes. It turned out that both of them aren’t very well liked in their environment due to their temperament and determined nature.

Jimmy, at the sight of sunburned back of Edd, immediately offered him his sunscreen cream and a cold drink at his home. Edd was really grateful to him, but Jimmy understood him well because he also had a delicate skin that would give him a lot of trouble on sunny days.

Soon only Kevin and Eddy were left on the beach. Both were confused and embarrassed by the situation. Eddy tried to keep a stony face, and Kevin just sighed.

-          Maybe… - Kevin finally began. – Nazz was right?

-          Yeah. - Eddy nodded without looking at him. – Where’s your team? - he asked with a mockery in his voice.

-          There where is yours, Dork. -  Kevin replied with no idea how to react to the existing state of affairs.

There was a moment of silence that no one had the courage to break. Eventually, Kevin broke through.

-          It's late. I promised my father that I would help him clean up the garage. I have to go. – Kevin said still feeling stupid. – Take “Waterfall”, I mean…  sprinkler. I won’t  have time to use it anyway and…

-          No, YOU take it! - Eddy suddenly interrupted him, and he was ashamed that he care so much for such stupidity like an old sprinkler. - Your air conditioning is broken and I… I have a lot of other ideas. - He smiled trying to look proud and confident. - Why do I need an old sprinkler?

-          Right! - Kevin smiled uncertainly. - If you want, you can borrow it at any time. - he laid his hand gently on his shoulder, fearing he would be pushed away and he smiled honestly.

-          You can count on it, Kev! - Eddy carelessly put his arm around him. – Listen! Let's make a party in my garden! You’ll take a “Waterfall” and we’ll invite everyone to the Waterparty!

-          Hey, that’s sound like a great idea, D-.. Eddy! - Kevin returned the embrace. – I feel that it’ll be great fun!

THE END <3