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augiewrites · 3 days
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augiewrites · 18 days
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if book knox were real his entire life would be transcribed on r/niceguys
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augiewrites · 19 days
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"valley reverie" - sebastian
summary: the timeline of sebastian and the farmer’s relationship based on canon dialogue
pairing: sdv sebastian x farmer
word count: 2.5K
a/n: this may be my magnum opus
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The sun was beginning its descent behind the mountains when Sebastian emerged from the house for the first—and only—time that day.
He shot a glance to his mother and Demetrius, who were standing at the edge of their property, looking over the valley bathed in golden light. His mother sent a small smile back, followed by a pointed disappointed look at the carton of cigarettes held loosely in his glance. Demetruis didn’t acknowledge his existence.
Sebastian knew it was a nasty habit, but he spent most of his life with not much thought to the future—he was surprised he made it this far. Maybe his life would have been different if he had planned better; if he had considered for a moment that there was such a thing as life past sixteen, then eighteen, then twenty-one. He supposed he should start to consider a life past twenty-four, but quickly dropped the thought as he placed the cigarette between his lips and continued his stroll to the lake.
He saw it then, as his lighter sparked to life and helped the cigarette take eleven minutes off his.
Someone was sitting in his spot. A humanoid blob of denim focused intently on the bobber floating in the water.
He hesitated, then decided to keep moving—his trajectory now locked in past the stranger and across the rickety planks of wood to the smaller islands in the middle of the lake. His mother had been saying for years that she needed to build something more structurally sound, but had yet to get around to it.
As he got closer, he took in more of the scene. There was a muddy bucket next to the stranger, and he noticed a couple slimy carp flopping around inside. Whoever this was, they clearly didn’t have enough experience to catch the tricker creatures in the lake.
Just as he was about to slip past toward solitude, he locked eyes with the stranger. Their bored expression quickly turned to worry.
“Sorry, am I in your spot? Robin said it was okay for me to fish here.”
Recognition sparked in his brain—his mother had told him about the new resident of Pelican Town. The words she had used to describe them flashed behind his eyes: sweet, a little lost, cute. That last one was sent his way with an exaggerated wink and met with a scoff from him.
“Oh. You just moved in, right? Cool.”
The farmer didn’t respond, just looked on waiting for an answer to their question. Sebastian didn’t gratify them with a response, instead looking across the lake at the tree line and abandoned quarry.
“Out of all the places you could live, you chose Pelican Town?”
The farmer scrunched up their mouth slightly, beginning to reel in their line. There was nothing but a limp worm dangling from the hook. Sebastian took note of the grieving look flashing on their face before it was gone in a blink.
“Better than where I was.”
Sebastian didn’t bother responding as the farmer heaved up the bucket—they were a lot stronger than they looked—and walked away without another word.
Robin smiled at the farmer with a wave and shouted goodnight before sending another disapproving look to her son.
_________________________________________
Sebastian heaved open the door of the house, exhausted from band practice. Sam was his best friend, and he enjoyed spending time with him more than he would admit, but the newest addition to the band was definitely a hindrance.
He didn’t dislike Abigail, and he couldn’t deny that she was a talented drummer, but he had been hoping for years that her little crush on him would fade away. He could only take so much of puppy dog eyes and over exaggerated laughter at his quips that definitely aren’t that funny.
He was so absorbed in his thoughts on how to shake off the purple-haired girl—more importantly, how to shake her off without actual confrontation—that he didn’t notice the farmer leaning against the shop counter until their voice pierced through. His mother was nowhere to be seen, so they had to have been talking to him.
“What? I didn't hear you...I'm busy thinking about something. What do you want?”
The farmer narrowed their eyes at him, leveling him with a glare. “You know, I get that you’d rather be listening to My Chemical Romance and jerking off to Nietzsche than interacting with a human being, but you really need to work on your people skills.”
Well, he hadn’t been expecting that.
He expected avoidance from the farmer, based on their first meeting and subsequent run-ins where they gave him a nod of acknowledgement before going back to acting like he didn’t exist.
He realized that the farmer wasn’t as timid and one-dimensional as he let himself think.
The moment was saved by Robin entering the shop room and dropping a workbench on the floor with a heavy thud. “You’ll make better use of this than I have lately—it’s pretty old,” she looked up from the dusty bench, noticing her son frozen in the doorway, “oh, hi Sebby.”
“Sebby?” the farmer questioned with a smirk.
Sebastian rolled his eyes, brushing past his mother to get to his lair.
“Sorry about him,” he heard his mother as he descended the stairs.
“It’s fine,” the farmer laughed, “he’s cool.”
He couldn’t help the smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. _________________________________________
Sebastian looked down at the frozen tear in his hand with a neutral expression on his face, though his heart was quickening its pace.
“Gunther told me it’s fabled to be the frozen tears of a yeti.”
He met the farmer’s grin with one of his own, “I really love this. How did you know?”
They shrugged, “Seemed like some emo shit you’d be into.”
A breathy laugh escaped him before he could stop it. “Well…thanks.”
“No prob. I’ll keep an eye out for more when I’m in the mines.”
“The mines?,” his brow furrowed, “how far down did you go?”
“Not super deep, I think I stopped at sixty since it was getting late.”
Sebastian gaped at the farmer—who he now realized he really misjudged—as they shouldered their backpack and turned toward the door.
“Oh,” they stopped just shy of the threshold, “your code is wrong, by the way. Third line down.”
He looked to the screen, baffled, seeing that there was, in fact, a mistake in his code.
He began to ask the farmer how they knew that, but they were gone. _________________________________________
The sun was setting on the valley, and Sebastian found himself sitting by the lake’s edge with the farmer, who was reeling in sturgeon and bass with ease.
“I’m sure the city’s different for other people, but it was corporate hell for me,” the farmer spoke softly as they baited their hook—it was different than any bait he had ever seen, and the farmer had informed him that the wild man living behind their house had taught them the recipe.
Sebastian hummed, “I guess that makes sense.”
“You guess?” the farmer teased him, flicking water at his face.
He blew a puff of smoke in their face.
The farmer coughed, then began to laugh as they fanned the smoke out of their face, “asshole.”
Sebastian grinned, leaning back on the palms of his hands and gazing across the water.
They sat in comfortable silence as the farmer cast out their line and half-heartedly focused on the bobber—they didn’t really need it anymore, but liked the safety net.
“You and Sam are probably my only friends in this town.” Sebastian broke the silence, but continued looking straight ahead.
“Well I am very likable.”
Sebastian knocked their shoulders together with a scoff.
“Sure, keep telling yourself that.” _________________________________________
Sebastian was indifferent—and sometimes loathful—toward most events held in their little town, but tonight was an exception. It was hard to not be in awe of the midnight jellies, and he was excited for the farmer to see them for the first time.
They were perched at the edge of the dock, along with Sam and Abigail, their feet dangling inches above the water.
It was a lot colder than expected, and the farmer was bundled in his black jacket. He couldn’t help but feel bad about the sad glances Abigail was sending their way.
The farmer looked content, and Sebastian recalled something they told him at the beginning of the season—the used to be terrified of the ocean before moving to the valley.
He nudged their shoulder with his own. It didn’t take much effort—they were sitting a lot closer than he realized. A light blush dusted his cheekbones.
“I thought I saw something moving in there…” he pointed to the void of the ocean and leaned closer to their ear, whispering, “something big, something dark.”
The farmer’s eyes widened as they looked across the vast darkness before they narrowed and turned to him.
“Just trying to scare you...” Sebastian laughed.
The farmer smiled, knocking their knee against his, muttering an all too familiar “asshole.”
It wasn’t too long before Lewis sent out the first lantern, and the water surrounding the docks was filled with glowing jellyfish.
“It’s beautiful,” the farmer breathed out as their head landed on his shoulder.
“Yeah,” his eyes landed on a glowing green jelly before looking down at the farmer, “it is.” _________________________________________
Sebastian never saw the farm in its full glory—before the farmer’s grandfather grew old and passed away—but he had been there plenty of times when it was overgrown and abandoned.
He had told the farmer this as they sat on the newly installed swinging bench on their porch. They joked that they would be suing him for trespassing, since it was technically their property at the time, even if they hadn’t known it.
It was a chilly fall day, but the farmer had made a pot of coffee to keep them warm.
“I thought this was your busy season,” Sebastian lit up a cigarette and moved the ashtray closer to where he sat. It was a newer addition to the farmer’s decor. He thought about the prideful look on their face as they held it up and told him that Leah let them use her pottery wheel. It was painted with little creatures that looked like the much happier cousins of the slimes living in the caves.
The farmer hummed, holding their mug close to their face, but not taking a sip, “Yeah…a lot busier than I thought it would be, actually.”
He grinned at them, “so, you’re slacking today, huh?”
The farmer laughed.
“I’d rather hang out with your sorry ass than work.” Despite the insult, the farmer’s tone was soft and earnest. Sebastian felt his cheeks heat up.
“Could you picture me living on a farm? It seems ridiculous, but I have been thinking about it lately.”
“If I could do it, then so could you,” the farmer linked their pinky with his, “it’s a lot more freeing than you’d think.” _________________________________________
Boxes filled with Sebastian’s things lined the walls of the farmhouse, but Sebastian and the farmer lay in bed, choosing to ignore them. 
They had all the time in the world.
The farmer was twirling the pendant dangling from Sebastian’s neck, “there’s steam coming out of your ears, Seb,” the farmer giggled and smoothed out the wrinkle between his brows with their finger.
“I’ve just been thinking,” Sebastian turned his attention from the ceiling to the farmer, “The older I get, the less I'm drawn to the city. It had a certain mystique to it, once. But it turns out that was just a romantic fantasy. The city's so busy, so full of people... I don't belong there. I'm a loner.”
A beat.
“Present company excluded, of course.”
The farmer laughed, “Well I would hope so,” they tugged gently on the pendant, pulling him closer, “because you’re stuck with me.” _________________________________________
Sebastian and the farmer had joined his family for dinner, and his mother had shooed them away with one hand as she cooed at the bundle held tightly in her other arm.
The valley was coming to life, but the ghost of a winter chill was in the air. They settled down by the lake despite the cold. It was no longer his spot, but theirs.
The farmer was skipping stones across the lake when he grumbled about how being in that spot made him want a smoke.
“No one’s stopping you,” the farmer laughed.
“I am.”
The farmer still held a loose smile as they raised their eyebrows at him, “oh?”
“I'm trying my best to quit smoking now that we're married…” He avoided their gaze and brushed some mud on the palm of his hand onto his jeans, “I don't wanna die on you. It's a bad habit. I want to have a future together.”
A baby cried in the distance. Sebastian and the farmer smiled at each other. _________________________________________
The farmer was surprised to find Sebastian’s side of the bed empty when they woke up. It wasn’t a rare occasion, as they usually found Sebastian in the kitchen after a restless sleep, but he was nowhere to be found.
They couldn’t help but worry a little bit as they pulled on their boots and opened the screen door. They paused out of instinct to let the dog run out before them only to realize that the dog wasn’t hot on their heels like usual.
They had only gotten two steps onto the porch before a mass of fur and slobber crashed into their legs.
“Oh hello baby,” they cooed down at the dog as it rolled onto its back, breathing heavily out of excitement, “good morning stink.”
“Good morning to you too.”
The farmer was so caught up in giving the dog attention that they hadn’t noticed Sebastian leaning against the porch railing.
They straightened from their crouch, smiling at him as the dog whined from the loss of affection.
“I couldn’t fall back asleep, so I went ahead and fed the animals,” he pushed off the railing and took a few steps forward to fix a rogue piece of the farmer’s hair, “one less thing for you to do.”
“Thanks, Seb,” the farmer said softly, suddenly bashful, “I’m going to check on the pumpkins. Thought I could make some soup tonight if any of them are ripe.”
They took a few steps off the porch, “feel like being a country boy today? Or did you get your fix?”
He smiled, leaning his forearms against the railing, “I'll just watch you from here. I enjoy watching you.” _________________________________________
Sebastian and the farmer found themselves sitting on the porch swing once again. It was a mild summer evening, and he was looking on as a toddler played with the dog in the yard.
He tore his attention away from the rowdy scene in front of him to look at the farmer, who was curled up at his side reading a book. He felt his heart swell.
“This is so different from my old life, but I'm really starting to like it. I feel like I really belong here.”
The farmer looked up from the book in their lap, smiling.
“I don't often show it, but I'm really happy that I'm your husband. Marrying you was the best decision I ever made.”
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augiewrites · 2 months
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rewatching criminal minds….expect some tomfoolery from me soon…
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augiewrites · 2 months
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"bartender" - dallas winston
request: Hi! I love your work and was wondering if you could do one for Dally from the outsiders where he's helping bartend for Buck to earn a couple bucks and Curtis!Reader is just sitting at the bar teasing him about it.
pairing: dallas winston x curtis!reader
word count: 618
a/n: i can't tell if i'm writing dally too ooc, but i was aiming more for shithead vibes than meanie vibes
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Dally was too aware of Y/N Curtis sitting all by her lonesome at the end of the bar. She was wearing a nice dress and more makeup than usual, but Dallas hadn’t seen her speak to anyone since arriving. She looked good—a fact that Dally would never admit out loud.
“Ain’t it past your bedtime?” He asked, sitting a fresh beer in front of her. The bottle she ordered at the beginning of the night had been long finished, the label picked clean and laying in a little pile on the bar.
“Aren’t you the one always telling me ‘sleep is for the weak’?” She smirked at him, taking a long drink from the bottle, “Just taking a page out of your book.”
He leaned against the bar, “Your brothers know you’re here?”
“What they don’t know won’t kill them,” she rolled her eyes, “I deserve to have a little fun too.”
“Being all depressing by yourself isn’t exactly what I’d call fun.”
Y/N glared at him as he moved to take another patron’s order. After a few short minutes, he returned to his spot across from her and gave her an expectant look.
They stared each other down for a few seconds before Y/N rolled her eyes at him, looking away.
Dallas opened his mouth to tell her to either stop being a sad sack or go home when she cut him off, still not meeting his gaze.
“I was supposed to meet up with Scott Davis, but he never showed.”
“Davis? That guy’s a fuckin bum!”
She finally looked up at him, anger flaring behind her eyes, “Well it’s not like I wanna marry him or anything! You’re not exactly fit to be lecturing me on who to hang out with.”
“Oh, I think I’m perfectly fit, dollface.”
She rolled away the anger in her eyes and sent him a teasing smile, “I guess it takes a bum to know one.”
He glared at her, but only half heartedly, flicking a small piece of ice at her forehead.
“Yup—that right there. Bum behavior.”
“I guess it takes a bum to know one,” he mocked her, “at least I have a job.”
“Not sure if you’re gonna make six figures by over-serving people and being mean to lonely girls at the bar.” Y/N finished her drink and slid the empty bottle across the bar.
Dallas continued glaring, “Y’know, you’re a mean drunk, lady.”
Y/N laughed, and Dallas couldn’t help the smirk pulling at his lips.
“Two beers is hardly enough to be drunk.”
“Alright, then. You’re just mean,” Dallas popped the cap off another beer and sat it in front of Y/N. “Gonna start correcting people when they go on about how ‘Y/N Curtis is just such a nice girl’”, he shook his head, “if only they knew.”
Y/N scoffed, “I don’t think anyone’s ever said that.”
“Yeah, right, with your whole ‘Saint Curtis’ act—helpin’ old ladies cross the street and tutoring dumbass kids.”
“Devil in disguise I guess,” the pair smirked at each other, holding the gaze for much longer than they should have.
Y/N cleared her throat, looking around the bar, “Shouldn’t you be doing your job?”
He took the bottle from her grasp before finishing it off in one last swig, “Shouldn’t you be going home?”
She scoffed and started collecting her things, standing up from the bar stool. “That towel,” she pointed to the dish rag tossed over his shoulder, “makes you look stupid, by the way.”
Dally removed the towel to swat at her, “Go home, stupid.”
Y/N moved toward the door, sending Dally one last smile, “Go back to work, bum.”
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augiewrites · 2 months
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Hi! I love your work and was wondering if you could do one for Dally from the outsiders where he's helping bartend for Buck to earn a couple bucks and Curtis!Reader is just sitting at the bar teasing him about it.
Thank you so much!! Yes absolutely I love this <3 Keep an eye out over the next week! :)
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augiewrites · 2 months
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"boundaries" - dallas winston
summary: dallas carries y/n to bed
pairing: dallas winston x curtis sister!reader
word count: 478
a/n: idk if this is a dead fandom but at least three times a year i remember that the outsiders exists and become obsessed again lol
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Y/N hadn’t been sleeping well lately, so when she fell asleep on the couch Darry couldn’t bring himself to risk waking her up. The most he dared to do was drape a blanket over his sleeping sister before retreating to his bedroom for the night.
Dallas, however, didn’t give a shit.
He needed somewhere to sleep, and she was in his designated spot.
Dally had just lifted Y/N into his arms when her eyelids fluttered open, still weighed down by sleep.
“Darry?”
“No—shut up and go back to sleep.”
Y/N’s eyes snapped open at Dally’s unexpected voice and briefly registered him carrying her across the living room.
“Where we goin’?” Y/N’s voice came out in a mumble as her eyes fell shut again.
“Bed. Need a place to crash tonight.”
“And you chose my room? Gonna be a tight fit.”
Glory, she’s annoying even when she’s barely conscious, Dally thought, but he was too tired to be his usual combative self.
The hallway was dark, but he could see the shimmer of her eyes looking up at him from the void. He never liked the way she looked at him—there was too much hope, too much recognition, too much of an implication that she knew something he didn’t.
Dallas wasn’t exactly known for being respectful, but Darry’s acceptance of him meant a lot more to him than he would ever be willing to admit—even to himself. So, despite becoming quite fond of Y/N, he kept his distance. If there was one thing Dallas loved to do, it was to test the boundaries of every relationship he’s ever had, both friendly and romantic.
This was one boundary Dallas had reservations about crossing.
“Do you hate me, Dallas?” There was a softness in Y/N’s voice that was rare to hear coming from the girl.
Dallas paused in the threshold of Y/N’s bedroom and dared a glance down into her eyes, but quickly snapped out of it and kept moving across the room to her small bed.
“No, stupid.” He unceremoniously dropped her on the bed and turned to move out of the room, but he was stopped by her calling out to him.
“You not gonna tuck me in, Winston?”
He threw a glance over his shoulder and was met with the knowing glint in her eyes that he was ever-growing uneasy of.
Catching himself, he snapped back into character, scoffing and throwing a stupid plush dog at her head. He remembered the gang’s trip to the state fair a few years back, remembered how excited she was when Soda won it for her after seven tries at the ring toss, and he remembered her shoving it in his face while teasing that the K-9 unit was coming for his sorry ass.
“Go to bed.”
The door closed behind him with a solid thud.
Stupid girl.
~~~
i'm trying to get back in the writing groove but i'm so uninspired lol—feedback is appreciated as usual :)
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augiewrites · 3 months
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"unknown / nth" - richie jerimovich
summary: y/n reflects on their relationship with richie (inspired by hozier's unknown / nth)
pairing: richie jerimovich x reader
word count: 1.4k
warnings: angst, a lot of hurt with no comfort, reader and richie are toxic :(
a/n: i've been staring at this draft for so long idk how to feel
previous
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The question kept ringing in Y/N’s head for days to come.
What are we? I mean, we’re friends, right?
Y/N didn’t know if they could be friends with Richie. He had been breaking their heart for as long as they could remember.
1995
The flashing lights and thumping bass was giving Y/N a headache. They never thought they would hate senior prom so much. 
It wouldn’t be so bad—Y/N thought, bringing a cup of spiked punch to their lips—if Richie hadn’t run off to god knows where with Mikey.
Richie wasn’t a bad boyfriend, per se, but their relationship wasn’t always conventional. Hell, they didn’t have a label until nearly a year into their relationship, when some jock hit on Y/N right in front of Richie. He started a fight with the boy—one he wouldn’t have won if Mikey wasn’t there—but he made one thing clear: Y/N belonged to Richie, and Richie belonged to Y/N.
A small smile made its way to Y/N’s face at the memory, but fell quickly when they remembered their current situation. It had been thirty minutes, and there was no sign of their date.
With a huff, Y/N shoved their unfinished cup into Fak’s hand—Y/N didn’t care to know how he snuck in to the function—and headed for the gymnasium doors.
If Richie was going to run off into school with Mikey, then Y/N would run off altogether.
They made it halfway across the parking lot before rapid footsteps approached and they heard a yell of, “hey! Where are you going?”
Y/N halted against their better judgment, letting Richie catch up to them.
“What’s up? Where are you going?” Richie’s hand found Y/N’s waist as he tried to catch his breath.
Y/N was disappointed, but not surprised. Richie had a track record of fucking up without realization—it was just something they had to accept when they got involved with the boy. 
Y/N continued walking, letting Richie’s hand drop. “I’m going home, Rich.” Richie scoffed and started following once he realized his partner was serious.
“What do you mean you’re going home? I thought we were having a good time?”
“If we means you and Mike, then yeah. I’m sure you were having a good time.” It was uncharacteristically cold for May, and Y/N shuddered as they rubbed their bare arms.
Richie draped his tux jacket over their shoulders without skipping a beat. “C’mon, we just had some business that needed taken care of.”
“Well what about me? Don’t I deserve to be taken care of?” Y/N couldn’t even look at him as they continued, “I swear, you should just leave me and marry Mikey. You’d probably be a lot happier.”
“Hey,” desperation seeped into Richie’s tone as he lightly gripped Y/N’s arm, bringing the two of them to a halt. “I’m here now, why don’t we just take two on this shit and try having a good time? Together.”
Y/N finally met Richie’s eyes, “We’ll have a good time, but for how long? Huh? How long before you ditch me again? You always do this, and I always just go along with it.”
“I don’t always ditch you.”
“Oh really? What about homecoming? The holiday party? Last weekend at Little Greg’s? I can go on.”
Richie guffawed, flailing his arms out.
Y/N continued forward, “I’m going home. I don’t know why I expected anything else from tonight.”
“Y/N—wait,” he caught up to them again, “at least let me take you home. You’re not walking alone this late.”
They ignored him and kept going.
“You either get in the car or I’m walking right behind you the whole way there.”
Y/N walked the whole way home, only acknowledging his presence to hand him his jacket before closing the door firmly in his face.
They were back together by Monday.
1998
Three years. It was the longest Y/N and Richie had ever gone without breaking up.
Y/N had taken a gap year after graduation before making the decision to attend a university in Nowhere, Pennsylvania. The couple had gotten pretty good at the long distance thing—call schedules, risque polaroids crammed into letters, Y/N spending all breaks and long weekends in Chicago, and Richie coming to them when he could pawn his weekend shifts onto someone else.
It worked at first, but the relationship was strained once Y/N finally began to settle into their new life. Their classes got more demanding, trips home were more infrequent, and they were down to one biweekly call if they were lucky.
Y/N should have seen it coming, but Richie should have had better timing.
Y/N was on a plane to Chicago two hours after their last final was handed in, and the pair was nearly inseparable for the two weeks leading up to Christmas. Everything seemed fine—perfect, even—and Y/N was so happy to finally have their man right there, in the flesh.
Against their better judgment, Y/N found themself at the Berzatto Christmas dinner. It was loud and multiple fights had broken out throughout the evening, but Y/N had gotten through dinner relatively unscathed.
That was, until Richie pulled them into an empty room.
“I think we should break up.”
The melody of loud conversations and playful scuffles throughout the house fell deaf on Y/N’s ears as they felt the walls close in on them.
“Wh-what?”
“I just think we need some time apart, is all.”
“Time apart? Practically all of our time is apart.”
“Yeah, I mean…” Richie trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck and looking everywhere but at Y/N. “I guess that’s part of the problem.”
Y/N didn’t want to cry. Not here, not now, not when they’d have to push through a crowd of the most overbearing people on the planet to make an exit. They cursed the hot tears flowing freely down their cheeks. 
“It’s not just on me to come here to you, you know. You never come visit me at school.”
“C’mon, Y/N, you know I work.”
“And I don’t? I’m constantly putting my life—my livelihood—on hold just so you’re not lonely for a weekend.”
“Look, I’m not trying to fight about this,” Y/N scoffed at Richie’s words, but he continued, “having you here has just been a reminder of how much I hate this long distance shit. It ain’t fair to me.”
“It’s not fair to you? You think it doesn’t kill me to not be able to be here with you?” Y/N hated how pathetic their cracking voice made them sound.
Richie’s eyes finally locked onto Y/N’s.
“Well, you were the one that chose to leave.”
Richie’s words sunk their teeth into Y/N’s heart, and they could feel a chunk being ripped out as they turned to leave the room without another word.
They were barely aware of their surroundings as they made their way through the house to the front door. Blood was pumping so loudly in their ears that they didn’t hear Sugar asking if they were okay or the harmony of Carmy and Mike assaulting Richie with varying versions of “what the hell did you do?”
Y/N grabbed their coat, but didn’t take the time to put it on before moving swiftly out the door and into the cold, letting its finite slam ricochet through the empty street.
Present
Y/N spent a lot of time thinking about all the things they wanted to say to Richie at that moment. They wanted to tell him about how the distance never made a difference to them—that they were just happy to know he was out there and they would be back home full time in just a few years. That they loved Richie—even being all too familiar with his bad side. That they couldn’t imagine a future without him.
Richie was a chapter of their life Y/N was never able to fully close. Over the years following the breakup, Y/N would visit home and end up in Richie’s bed more times than they were proud of. 
Y/N stopped coming home after Sugar broke the news that Richie and Tiff were engaged.
Even after all the years, Y/N could never find the courage to tell Richie how they truly felt about him. Even now, they could break beneath the weight of the goodness they still held for him.
It was like a cruel joke that their lives were aligning again. Y/N had to fight the hope blossoming in their chest—it never did them much good with Richie, anyway.
~~~
feedback is appreciated!
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augiewrites · 4 months
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hiiii, how are you??
busy!! currently working a part time job alongside my full time one and haven't had a single moment to think ://
i'm hoping to get out of my rut and post something soon, just not sure what lolol
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augiewrites · 5 months
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part two!
“scott street” - richie jerimovich
summary: y/n is back in chicago for the first time in years and reunites with an old flame (inspired by phoebe bridgers’ scott street)
pairing: richie jerimovich x reader
word count: 1.2k
warnings: angst, grief, family/parental death, the usual warnings that come along with the bear
a/n: i love emotionally unintelligent men
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Y/N was never good at making decisions. Big, life changing decisions? No big deal. Abandon everything they know to move across the country for college? Didn’t even think twice. Their last living family member was not-so alive anymore and left a massive mess behind with no one to clean it up? The U-Haul was packed before the week was over.
The cooler of soft drinks in front of them right now? Y/N had been staring at the frosted doors for well over five minutes, periodically opening the doors but taking nothing out.
“Y/N?”
Holy shit, he grew up.
“Carmy?” Y/N smiled at the young man, pulling him into a brief embrace, “What the hell are you doing here?”
“I could, uh, ask you the same,” Carmy smirked.
“I’m taking care of Ma’s old building.”
Carmy’s brows knitted together, “Right—I’m sorry about your mom, by the way. Shame.”
“Yeah,” Y/N shuffled their feet, “you avoiding the question?”
“Maybe,” he smirked, “I took over the Beef. Been back in town for a few weeks.”
“Oh? How’s that going for you?”
Another smirk. “It’s not, really.”
“Wow, look at us,” Y/N knocked his shoulder with theirs, “both said we’d never come back and here we are…dealing with a couple steaming piles of shit.”
He let out a breath that slightly resembled a laugh, “Yeah—listen, you should come by for family tomorrow afternoon. Take a look at the pile for yourself.”
“Oh, Carmy, I don’t know—”
“I’ll make sure he stays in line.”
“We both know that’s not possible, Bear.”
“Still, everyone would love seeing you.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Carmy opened the cooler and wordlessly pressed a Diet Coke in their hand before walking out of the store.
It took everything in them to not cry.
_________________________________________
Y/N knew it was a bad idea, but the next day they found themselves standing outside the Beef, willing themselves to go in.
They scoffed and opened the door.
Pussy, they chastised themself.
The restaurant was pure chaos, and Y/N stood there for a moment, completely unnoticed and taking it all in. They would be lying to themselves if they said they didn’t miss the mayhem.
Unsurprisingly, Richie was the first to notice them—he had a habit of doing that.
“Yo, what the hell?”
Y/N was barely able to get a word out as they were suddenly flanked by Tina and Ebra, who were simultaneously saying how good it was to see them and chastising them for being gone so long with so little communication.
It was Carmy that intervened, gently pulling Y/N away with a small laugh and saying, “okay, guys, let ‘em breathe.”
Richie was frozen in his spot behind the counter, feeling like he just saw a ghost.
Which, in a way, he did. It had been years since he saw Y/N, and no matter how much he tried forgetting about them, they haunted his thoughts. They had been high school sweethearts, and even though things didn’t end well between them he couldn’t help but still care deeply for them.
First loves were like that.
Y/N’s mind was on overdrive as Carmy walked them around and introduced them to the new faces working in the kitchen. Richie was being too quiet. Usually when he was avoiding a topic he didn’t like, he talked about everything else under the sun. Richie being quiet was dangerous territory.
They were pulled out of their thoughts once Tina slammed a large pot in the center of the larger tables in the dining area and yelled, “Family!”
Y/N took a seat between Tina and Fak, and was for once thankful for the man’s dedication to rambling. He was currently going on about how he should come inspect the building they were now the owner of, despite the building already having been cleared by state inspectors and having a fully staffed maintenance team.
“I wouldn’t waste my time if I were you, Fak,” Richie broke in, “it’s only a matter of time before they leave and make that place someone else’s problem. Right, Y/N?”
Y/N didn’t have it in them to fight back, even though they knew that was what the man wanted. They were too tired.
“That’s what you do best, huh, Y/N? Run away from all your problems and leave everyone else to pick up the pieces?”
Carmy sent Richie a warning glare, “Cousin.”
“No, Cousin,” funny how Richie can manage to make a term of endearment sound like an insult, “you had no right inviting them here.”
“I have just as much a right to be here as you do,” Y/N glared at Richie.
“That’s a load of shit, and you know it, toots.”
That was all it took for a screaming match to break out between the former lovers. Their voices drowned each other out, and all Carmy could make out was a slew of insulting names, curse words, and years of unpacked baggage.
He let them go at it for a couple of minutes before he dragged Richie out the front door with a cry of “enough!”
Y/N could hear the two men arguing outside from their place at the table before deciding that they’d had enough. They muttered a lame “excuse me” before moving through the kitchen to the back alley, their face heating up in embarrassment. It was nothing that most of the Beef’s staff hadn’t seen before, but Y/N could feel themselves reverting to a version of themself that they hadn’t been for a long time—they couldn’t help the embarrassment that came along with it.
They were halfway through their second cigarette when they heard the back door open and a familiar pair of track pants entered their field of vision.
“I got you those over a decade ago,” they exhaled the smoke and pressed their lighter into Richie’s outstretched hand, “isn’t it about time you get some new clothes?”
Richie kicked his leg around, inspecting the pants, “Ain’t nothing wrong with ‘em. Why get rid of something that works?”
“Big words coming from you.”
He met their half-assed glare with a furrowed look, “you were the one that left.”
“Not before you ended it.”
“We would’ve gotten back together. Always did,” a scoff, “You left.”
“And you moved on, had a kid—seems like things worked out.”
“Toots, if this is things working out, I don’t wanna know what it would have been like if they hadn’t.”
Y/N needed to change the subject before the tension killed them.
“How’s your girl doing, anyway?”
Richie grinned at Y/N, “Ev’s doing real good. Loving her new gymnastics class. Just turned nine last month.”
“Shit, that makes me feel old.”
“Well, what does that make me?” Richie asked with a rough laugh.
“Fucking ancient.”
Another laugh. Maybe things would be different between them this time.
“You in town for good, then?
“Yeah, I think so. Got a good thing going. Think I might start renovating some of the units in the apartment next year.”
“Hmm, sure,” Richie muttered absentmindedly around his cigarette.
Y/N decided it was better to not say anything.
Richie finished off his cigarette, tossing it in the general direction of a makeshift ashtray.
He made to walk back to the back door before turning and offering Y/N his hand, helping them pull themselves off the ground. He wiped his hands off on his track pants before finally going to move away.
“Anyway,” he gave them one last look before turning around and walking away, “don’t be a stranger.”
~~~
part two
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augiewrites · 5 months
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"end of beginning" - richie jerimovich
summary: y/n struggles against the ghost of who they used to be (inspired by djo's end of beginning)
pairing: richie jerimovich x reader + platonic carmy x reader
word count: 1.1k
continuation of scott street | next
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“So you came back just to gentrify the city?” Richie had a smile on his face, but Y/N saw through it. The man didn’t handle change well, and they knew he hated looking around the place he grew up and realizing that nearly everything looked different.
Y/N hated it too, but they knew change was inevitable. Most times it was easier to just accept it, move on, and eventually forget the way things used to be. Some things were more difficult to forget than others, though. “It’s just a coffee shop,” Y/N fought hard to not slip into old, aggressive habits, but it was difficult when it came to dealing with Richie. “And not some corporate bullshit—locally owned, sourced, all that ethical junk.”
He scoffed, “Ain’t it enough that you’re renovating that building? Probably skyrocket rent, force people out, bring in the rich. The hell are you here for, anyway?”
“People were paying way too much for that shithole in the first place. I’m just making it liveable.” Y/N knew it was worthless to fight with him, they might as well be throwing punches at a brick wall. “I’m here to see Carmy. Talk business.”
“You’re roping him into this shit now!? Kid’s brain is already always five seconds away from blowing up.” He cut himself off to give a grandiose greeting to one of the regulars and pass a sandwich to another. “She’s just using Carmy as an excuse to come see me, Jerry,” he playfully whapped the customer’s arm, “I’m irresistible.”
“You’re an unfortunate fixture of this place,” Y/N tossed over their shoulder, walking away toward the little office in the kitchen. There was probably a level of truth to what he was saying, but Y/N would never admit that to him—or themself—in a million years. Chicago reminded them of a version of themself that took a lot of work to leave in the past. People may change as they grow, but the person they used to be never really dies. It just lays dormant, buried deep within until something wakes it up.
Carmy’s hand momentarily clapping them on the shoulder saved them from the downward spiral of introspection. “Sorry, this place is a mess.” He scrambled to move a stack of papers off the spare chair, sitting them on the desk and nearly causing an avalanche. Y/N sat down before he could tell them to. “He bother you? What’s up?”
Y/N suddenly felt bad for taking up Carmy’s offer to go over their business proposal. He barely spared them a glance as he shuffled through papers and periodically rubbed his forehead.
“He always bothers me—I can handle him.” Carmy scoffed, mumbling “sure you can” as he inspected an invoice hopefully before shoving it back into a folder.
“Is this a bad time? I can go if you’re too busy.” Y/N knew their offer was futile—it was always a bad time and Carmy was always busy. He snapped out of his search and gave Y/N an apologetic look. “No, no, I got time. Sorry, I just—”
“I get it, Carm. No need to apologize.”
“Yeah, yeah, right,” Carmy rubbed his eyes and gave Y/N a quick once-over before giving them a quick smile, “I guess, uh, if anyone gets it, it would be you.”
Y/N held Carmy’s gaze, but they didn’t break the silence. They knew that Carmy had more to say, and the only way to ensure that he’d say it was to leave the ball in his court.
“Some days I feel like my head’s ‘bout to explode,” the ghost of a sad smile was on his face, “but I’d rather keep busy than think too deeply into things.”
The manila envelope in Y/N’s hands mocked them along with Carmy’s words. They both knew Y/N was sinking on the same boat. Y/N could easily deflect by giving him some bullshit advice, but it would just be hypocrisy. The pair fell into a beat of silence as Y/N looked at the floor, contemplating their next steps.
“When I first moved away, I hated coming back to visit. Seeing all the places I used to hang out, the people I used to be close with…” Y/N trailed off for a moment before locking eyes with Carmy, “so I just stopped coming back. Pretended to be someone I’m not in a place I’m not sure I even belonged in. I thought I had changed, but being here just makes me realize that I’m the same person I always was. The same person I’ll probably always be.”
Carmy was softly nodding his head when Y/N continued in a much smaller voice, “I don’t know if that’s a good or bad thing, but it is what it is. Might as well keep going until I can’t anymore.”
He furrowed his brows, frowning a bit, “sorry for making you come here. I know it’s not eas—”
“Jesus, Carmy, quit apologizing.” He wasn’t wrong, though. Y/N felt antsy at the restaurant. There were too many memories in that place—both good and bad—and Richie was a very loud reminder of their past. “If I didn’t want to put up with him—with all of it—I would just not come. Can’t hide forever.”
He made to say more, but was interrupted by a loud “yo!” as Richie’s lanky frame entered the room. “My ears are ringing,” he gently shoved Y/N’s shoulder with the back of his hand, “talking shit?”
“On you? Always.” Y/N wasn’t lying when they said they were fine being around Richie. The man’s presence brought a confusing mixture of anxiety, anger, and comfort. There’s no fool like an old fool—whatever that means.
Y/N fell into their own thoughts as the two men argued about the front of house coverage. They were pulled back into reality when they heard Tina yelling for Carmy in the kitchen. Y/N didn’t realize they were staring at Richie until Carmy passed in front of him to leave. Richie furrowed his brow as he looked back at Y/N.
“You good? You look like shit—got that thousand yard stare.”
“I’m fine.” The pair slipped into a staring competition. This wasn’t a conversation Y/N wanted to have, and they could feel him inspecting the darkening circles under their eyes and their frizzy hair.
He broke the silence, “what are we?”
“I know you’re not asking me this question right now,” Y/N sputtered.
“I mean, we’re friends, right?” Richie gestured vaguely between them, and the scattered mess of thoughts Y/N had been having for the past few months dropped on their head like a bucket of cold water.
“I don’t know, Richie.”
His head bobbed as he turned to the doorway, offering Y/N nothing in response but a mumbled “right.” He didn’t look back, and Y/N didn’t follow.
Y/N wasn’t sure if they knew the answer to that question back when they were together, and they sure as hell didn’t know the answer now.
~~~
part three
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augiewrites · 5 months
Text
so sorry to anyone that followed me for one fandom but inside of me there are two wolves
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augiewrites · 5 months
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Did you write those poem's in the Dead Poet's Society series yourself?! They're so good!
yup those were me! thank you so much :))
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augiewrites · 5 months
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“under the neon glow” - charlie dalton
summary: charlie convinces y/n to sneak out
paring: charlie dalton x gender neutral reader
word count: 1.1k
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Y/N knew they were pushing their luck being in Charlie’s room so late at night, but Cameron was on a rare trip home and the couple would be stupid to pass up the opportunity.
And what an opportunity it was.
Y/N and Charlie were tangled up with each other in his small bed, the boy leaving a trail of kisses from Y/N’s lips to their neck.
“Don’t you dare give me a hickey, Dalton,” Y/N’s voice was stern, but there was a smile teasing their lips and they made no move to make him stop.
Charlie blew a raspberry into their neck before lightly sinking his teeth into the soft skin, “I wouldn’t dream of it, sweets.”
Y/N held back a squeal as best as they could—they didn’t want to take any risks to make this night end. They softly grabbed Charlie’s face and led his lips back to theirs.
“We should go somewhere,” Charlie mumbled against their lips.
“You’re joking, right?” Y/N laughed, breaking the kiss.
Charlie smiled, a mischievous glint in his eye—one that Y/N knew very well.
“Why not?”
Y/N mocked a thoughtful look, “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because your partner is currently in your bed, and your roommate isn’t here to barge in on us?”
“You know I’d never let him stop me.”
“You’re disgusting, Charlie,” the smile on Y/N’s face took any bite out of their words.
“Come on Y/N, live a little.”
“If we get caught—“
Charlie expertly untangled himself from Y/N and crawled over them and out of the bed before they could even finish their thought. He had thrown on a sweater and had one shoe on before Y/N even made it to a sitting position.
One of Charlie’s sweatshirts gently smacked them in the face and fell into their lap as they moved to pick their own shirt up off the floor.
“Really?”
Charlie feigned innocence, “I wouldn’t want you to catch a cold, Y/N.”
Y/N rolled their eyes at the boy, but pulled the sweater on nonetheless. It was one Y/N had their eye on for a while—oversized, a soft fabric of their favorite color, and (most importantly) it smelled of Charlie.
They were both aware he wouldn’t be getting it back any time soon.
“Where are we even going?”
“You’ll see,” Charlie pressed a chaste kiss to their lips before pulling them toward the door, “you’re going to love it.”
_________________________________________
Thanks to the dead poets society, the couple had become experts at sneaking away from Welton in the dead of the night. In mere minutes, Charlie had hijacked Knox’s bike, and Y/N was perched behind him on the seat as he pedaled toward town.
Y/N always felt so free when they were with Charlie. Tonight was no different—Y/N’s heart was soaring as they wrapped their arms tighter around his torso and felt the wind blowing through their hair.
Charlie was going much faster than he should have been with two people on the bike, and they arrived at their destination much faster than Y/N would have liked. Steadying themselves with their hands on Charlie’s hips, they maneuvered off the back of the bike. A bright neon sign buzzed lowly through the window in front of the bike rack.
OPEN 24/7
Charlie wrapped his arms around Y/N from behind, pressing a kiss just below their ear and murmuring, “Hungry?”
They turned their head to meet his lips, “Starved.”
He moved in front of them, opening the door and beckoning them through.
“Such a gentleman.”
“One of the last living few.”
Charlie took Y/N’s hand and led them to a booth in the corner. A bored looking waitress dropped off two menus that Charlie promptly pushed aside and ignored until she circled back around.
“What’ll you two have?” The waitress drolled.
“A basket of fries and a chocolate malt,” Charlie winked at Y/N, “two straws.”
The waitress didn’t bother to say anything, walking away once she wrote down the order.
Y/N raised their brow at the boy sitting across from them. Charlie simply smirked back.
“You trying to live out your Archie comics fantasy?”
“I wouldn’t correct you if you called me Archie for the rest of the night.”
Y/N hummed as they tapped their chin, pretending to inspect the boy’s features.
“You look more like a Jughead,” Y/N tisked, “my view from here, at least.”
Charlie held a hand over his heart and dramatically leaned forward in his seat, “I think you need a closer look.”
Y/N scooted closer to the window as Charlie moved around the table and slid into the booth next to them. He wrapped his arm around their waist and pulled them away from the window and into his side.
“How about now?”
“I think your main character syndrome is kicking in, Archie,” Y/N teased.
“Aren’t I though?” Charlie grinned. “Breaking out of prison to have a night out on the town with the most exquisite creature I’ve ever laid eyes on? Sounds like a main character to me.”
“Oh,” Y/N scoffed, “so you get to be the main character, but I’m a creature?”
“An exquisite one, Y/N.”
“You are so—“
Y/N was cut off by the waitress unceremoniously placing their fries and malt on the table in front of them. She pulled two straws out of her apron and not-so subtly rolled her eyes at the couple as she tossed them on the table. Charlie stopped the straws from rolling off as she turned and walked away.
“This diner has a Michelin star, did you know?”
Y/N burst into a fit of giggles as he blew the straw paper at their chest.
Charlie beamed at Y/N and popped a couple fries in his mouth. They fell into a comfortable silence as Y/N sipped on the malt.
Charlie moved to take a drink of the malt, but quickly darted his head to the side to press a kiss to Y/N’s cheek just as his lips were about to meet the straw. Y/N pulled back from their straw, gently grasping Charlie’s chin and pulling him in for a soft kiss.
“Can I tell you something?” Y/N blurted out as they pulled away.
“I’ve never stopped you before,” Charlie grinned, “don’t plan on starting now.”
“I think I’m in love with you.” Y/N’s cheeks flushed and their pulse quickened despite their best efforts to calm themselves.
“Well, I know I’m in love with you,” Charlie kissed Y/N again as relief flooded their system, “it’s a main character thing.”
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augiewrites · 5 months
Note
need another charlie dalton fic 😩 your dps series was so scrumptious and i LOVEEEE how you kept the characters in character and the writing styleeee. long story short im obsessed and need moreee (at your own pace ofc 💗)
tomorrow 🤭💖
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augiewrites · 5 months
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LOVING UR FICS SO MUCH ESPECIALLY UR RICHIE ONE 💖💖
tysm!! i was so nervous to post that one idk why lmao
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augiewrites · 5 months
Text
“scott street” - richie jerimovich
summary: y/n is back in chicago for the first time in years and reunites with an old flame (inspired by phoebe bridgers’ scott street)
pairing: richie jerimovich x reader
word count: 1.2k
warnings: angst, grief, family/parental death, the usual warnings that come along with the bear
a/n: i love emotionally unintelligent men
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Y/N was never good at making decisions. Big, life changing decisions? No big deal. Abandon everything they know to move across the country for college? Didn’t even think twice. Their last living family member was not-so alive anymore and left a massive mess behind with no one to clean it up? The U-Haul was packed before the week was over.
The cooler of soft drinks in front of them right now? Y/N had been staring at the frosted doors for well over five minutes, periodically opening the doors but taking nothing out.
“Y/N?”
Holy shit, he grew up.
“Carmy?” Y/N smiled at the young man, pulling him into a brief embrace, “What the hell are you doing here?”
“I could, uh, ask you the same,” Carmy smirked.
“I’m taking care of Ma’s old building.”
Carmy’s brows knitted together, “Right—I’m sorry about your mom, by the way. Shame.”
“Yeah,” Y/N shuffled their feet, “you avoiding the question?”
“Maybe,” he smirked, “I took over the Beef. Been back in town for a few weeks.”
“Oh? How’s that going for you?”
Another smirk. “It’s not, really.”
“Wow, look at us,” Y/N knocked his shoulder with theirs, “both said we’d never come back and here we are…dealing with a couple steaming piles of shit.”
He let out a breath that slightly resembled a laugh, “Yeah—listen, you should come by for family tomorrow afternoon. Take a look at the pile for yourself.”
“Oh, Carmy, I don’t know—”
“I’ll make sure he stays in line.”
“We both know that’s not possible, Bear.”
“Still, everyone would love seeing you.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Carmy opened the cooler and wordlessly pressed a Diet Coke in their hand before walking out of the store.
It took everything in them to not cry.
_________________________________________
Y/N knew it was a bad idea, but the next day they found themselves standing outside the Beef, willing themselves to go in.
They scoffed and opened the door.
Pussy, they chastised themself.
The restaurant was pure chaos, and Y/N stood there for a moment, completely unnoticed and taking it all in. They would be lying to themselves if they said they didn’t miss the mayhem.
Unsurprisingly, Richie was the first to notice them—he had a habit of doing that.
“Yo, what the hell?”
Y/N was barely able to get a word out as they were suddenly flanked by Tina and Ebra, who were simultaneously saying how good it was to see them and chastising them for being gone so long with so little communication.
It was Carmy that intervened, gently pulling Y/N away with a small laugh and saying, “okay, guys, let ‘em breathe.”
Richie was frozen in his spot behind the counter, feeling like he just saw a ghost.
Which, in a way, he did. It had been years since he saw Y/N, and no matter how much he tried forgetting about them, they haunted his thoughts. They had been high school sweethearts, and even though things didn’t end well between them he couldn’t help but still care deeply for them.
First loves were like that.
Y/N’s mind was on overdrive as Carmy walked them around and introduced them to the new faces working in the kitchen. Richie was being too quiet. Usually when he was avoiding a topic he didn’t like, he talked about everything else under the sun. Richie being quiet was dangerous territory.
They were pulled out of their thoughts once Tina slammed a large pot in the center of the larger tables in the dining area and yelled, “Family!”
Y/N took a seat between Tina and Fak, and was for once thankful for the man’s dedication to rambling. He was currently going on about how he should come inspect the building they were now the owner of, despite the building already having been cleared by state inspectors and having a fully staffed maintenance team.
“I wouldn’t waste my time if I were you, Fak,” Richie broke in, “it’s only a matter of time before they leave and make that place someone else’s problem. Right, Y/N?”
Y/N didn’t have it in them to fight back, even though they knew that was what the man wanted. They were too tired.
“That’s what you do best, huh, Y/N? Run away from all your problems and leave everyone else to pick up the pieces?”
Carmy sent Richie a warning glare, “Cousin.”
“No, Cousin,” funny how Richie can manage to make a term of endearment sound like an insult, “you had no right inviting them here.”
“I have just as much a right to be here as you do,” Y/N glared at Richie.
“That’s a load of shit, and you know it, toots.”
That was all it took for a screaming match to break out between the former lovers. Their voices drowned each other out, and all Carmy could make out was a slew of insulting names, curse words, and years of unpacked baggage.
He let them go at it for a couple of minutes before he dragged Richie out the front door with a cry of “enough!”
Y/N could hear the two men arguing outside from their place at the table before deciding that they’d had enough. They muttered a lame “excuse me” before moving through the kitchen to the back alley, their face heating up in embarrassment. It was nothing that most of the Beef’s staff hadn’t seen before, but Y/N could feel themselves reverting to a version of themself that they hadn’t been for a long time—they couldn’t help the embarrassment that came along with it.
They were halfway through their second cigarette when they heard the back door open and a familiar pair of track pants entered their field of vision.
“I got you those over a decade ago,” they exhaled the smoke and pressed their lighter into Richie’s outstretched hand, “isn’t it about time you get some new clothes?”
Richie kicked his leg around, inspecting the pants, “Ain’t nothing wrong with ‘em. Why get rid of something that works?”
“Big words coming from you.”
He met their half-assed glare with a furrowed look, “you were the one that left.”
“Not before you ended it.”
“We would’ve gotten back together. Always did,” a scoff, “You left.”
“And you moved on, had a kid—seems like things worked out.”
“Toots, if this is things working out, I don’t wanna know what it would have been like if they hadn’t.”
Y/N needed to change the subject before the tension killed them.
“How’s your girl doing, anyway?”
Richie grinned at Y/N, “Ev’s doing real good. Loving her new gymnastics class. Just turned nine last month.”
“Shit, that makes me feel old.”
“Well, what does that make me?” Richie asked with a rough laugh.
“Fucking ancient.”
Another laugh. Maybe things would be different between them this time.
“You in town for good, then?
“Yeah, I think so. Got a good thing going. Think I might start renovating some of the units in the apartment next year.”
“Hmm, sure,” Richie muttered absentmindedly around his cigarette.
Y/N decided it was better to not say anything.
Richie finished off his cigarette, tossing it in the general direction of a makeshift ashtray.
He made to walk back to the back door before turning and offering Y/N his hand, helping them pull themselves off the ground. He wiped his hands off on his track pants before finally going to move away.
“Anyway,” he gave them one last look before turning around and walking away, “don’t be a stranger.”
~~~
part two
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