#I call them EdSie
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The most beautiful Kaya Scodelario looked in "The Gentlemen". And the overall scene is something that can actually be so personal. Him seeking her out. Like ending episode 6 thinking mom and dad (mum and dad) are going to war with each other...and then this...and then still the last two episodes being a roller coaster of whether or not they are going to be the literal death of one another. I have never had so much Good Stress from a ship that was Bad Stress when I was actually going through it. I aged and greyed so much through parts of this show, my poor heart.
To me, they have this low-key Bruce Wayne x Selina Kyle dynamic (sooooo, Bobby Glass would be Carmine Falcone? I can work with that), which, given how BatCat is one of my lifelong OTPs, I am sure subconsciously pulled me in. Like posh boy that can get down and dirty (so his ski mask era would be his Batman era 😅😂 "We're not criminals, Freddy"), however much he sees himself holding a higher moral ground over the underworld he must move through. And working-class girl, street smarts, that can no less look "elegant and stylish" and navigate the upper echelons; but at the end of the day is who she is and matter-of-factly💋💋💋💋a career criminal. (Kaya honestly even works as a face claim for Selina though her eyes may be closer to blue than green. I mean, the Gunnverse has to cast a Catwoman eventually, depending on the age range of their Batman... I will just leave this here for you for free, James.)
And then Princess Roseanne, the Countess of Tournai, would be Talia Al-Ghul especially when Susie lets slip some jealous vibes towards her (made me think of Anne Hathaway's snark about Marion Cotillard in the last Nolanverse film...the characters, not the actresses). Though ultimately I do see Eddie and Princess Roseanne as Just Friends and no conflict in that direction unless further miscommunication. (So much Misunderstanding Drama in this series and between OTP. When a good romantic comedy is not a romantic comedy; or even entirely a comedy.)
But really it comes down to their having such an *easy partnership*, naturally yielding to one another when it comes to it. The way Susie has her way about things -- most notably when she invites herself to meet Stanley Johnston -- and Eddie smoothly submits to her without in any way seeming whipped. Like their actions are always in agreement, even when their words are not. Those two are more married than most married folks I have seen on screen. Should have blacked out in Nevada than on the estate.
(Also, gotta love how she has him saved in her phone as "The Duke". Like forget Bridgerton...I would watch an entire season of TheoKaya going at each other in, Bridgerton ways. As it stands with this though, I could see how the greater artistic choice might be to just make this a stand-alone, but I would be greedy for any subsequent season. This is already technically an expansion on a film -- that I have yet to see -- so Guy Ritchie does not mind a revisit. I could use any more of these 2 families who fully drive the story of this world.)
#OTP: Refined Aggression#OTP: Not Without Danger#Eddie Horniman x Susie Glass#Eddie x Susie#Edward Horniman x Susan Glass#Edward x Susan#I call them EdSie#but their shipping name is Horniglass#Guy Ritchie BatCat#I need Susie to be the next (unconventional) Duchess of Halstead like I need in every universe Selina to inherit Martha Wayne's pearls
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i love workplace (romance) aus so so much and so i’m imagining an au where richie and eddie are coworkers in the same office, and eddie happens to be richie’s work crush but richie never actually makes a move bc he knows that it’s against company policy for coworkers to date, plus he doesn’t even know if eddie’s into guys, and he wouldn’t want to make things awkward. so he just admires from afar, and tries to keep his flirting to a minimum.
except one night richie and a few other of his coworkers go out for dinner, and richie maybe has a few too many drinks. he doesn’t remember much after his sixth beer, except for one of his coworkers hauling his ass into a taxi and somehow getting richie to his apartment safe and sound. he gets not nearly enough sleep that night, and is rudely woken up only a few hours later by his alarm, and richie wakes up with the dreaded reminder that he has to go to work. he considers calling in sick, but then he remembers the important meeting that his boss scheduled for today, the meeting he knows he’ll get in major trouble for if he doesn’t attend, so he pulls himself out of bed and gets ready for work.
he manages his way to the office, and figures that showing up ten minutes late is better than not showing up at all, and makes a beeline straight to the break room for some coffee. he’s so tired and he can barely keep his eyes open, so he doesn’t see the other person in the break room and accidentally bumps into them while trying to find the coffee machine, and as richie starts to apologize he finally opens his eyes wide enough to see the person... and is suddenly woken right up when he finds that it’s eddie.
richie’s mumbled “sorry”s turn into a real apology as he starts to help eddie clean up the coffee that he made eddie spill, but eddie doesn’t seem to be upset. richie starts to explain his hangover, and that he may not may not still be slightly drunk, and eddie just laughs softly and replies like, “yeah, i figured as much.”
richie looks at him, confused, and with the realization that richie doesn’t know what he’s talking about, eddie just takes a sip of the new cup of coffee richie poured for him, tells richie to check his phone, and walks out of the break room.
after hearing what may be the worst thing to hear after a drunken night out, richie immediately whips out his phone. he checks his all his social media, but there was nothing posted from the night before. he checks his camera roll, and again, nothing out of the ordinary there. richie’s starting to think that maybe eddie was just messing with him... until he opens up his texts, and sees at the very top, a conversation he drunkenly had the night before with eddie.
1:07am
Richie: heyy edsei
Richie: eddie*
Richie: r u siingle
Richie: do u likke men
Richie: you knoew you;re like the secondd cutest in the office... after me of coursse ;)
Richie: we should go out s ometime
Eddie: Are you drunk?
Richie: nooooiioooo
Richie: may be
Eddie: You know you have work in the morning, right?
Richie: yessss
Richie: will u be rhere?
Eddie: Yes, I will be at work.
Richie: yaaaaaaaaaayy
Richie: see u tomorrow edsie
Eddie: See you tomorrow, Richie.
Eddie: Get home safe.
richie stares down at his phone in shock, completely, absolutely, 100% mortified that he actually said all that to eddie. he refuses to believe that he had a drunken conversation where, over fucking text, he confessed that he’s into eddie. to eddie himself, no less!!!! he prays that eddie only thinks it was a joke, that since he knows that richie was drunk that he will think it doesn’t mean anything at all, that they can both just forget that this happened and move on…
except, he’s not the only one panicking. while he’s worrying about the drunken conversation, richie doesn’t realize that he happens to also be eddie’s office crush, and now eddie is sitting at his desk, unable to concentrate all day long, because he can’t stop thinking about the texts that richie had sent him the night before. obviously richie was drunk, but did that make his words more truthful, or less? what was that saying, drunk words are sober thoughts? did that apply here? eddie didn’t really want to ask richie about it in case it was all just a drunken misunderstanding and richie really doesn’t feel that way, but…
a part of eddie can’t help but hope that it is true as he rereads the conversation, and hope that maybe richie will actually ask him out now… when he’s not drunk, of course.
#i need a reddie workplace rom com and i need it now#richie tozier#eddie kaspbrak#reddie#reddie hc#reddie headcanon#it#it au#it hc#it 2017#it 2019
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"Eddie's hot but if he changed his whole... everything he'd be hotter." Imagine Eddie actually does try to win Steve over by changing himself but Steve takes one look at a polished up Edsie who acts 'normal' and is like, 'Where's my gross guy who grabs my ass any chance he gets and calls me petnames? I don't know this man.'
yes!!!!! Steve is attracted to Eddie *because* of these things, not in spite of them. He's obsessed with Eddie as a weird gremlin man who smells like weed and loves bugs and is forever talking in his own language of Tolkien quotes, heavy metal lyrics and redneck slang. Also omg am just thinking of lech Eddie now who has zero boundaries and just grabs Steve's ass all the time dhdhsh
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Eddie Balthazar's Application;
Name: Edmund Seraiah Balthazar.
Known Aliases: Eddie, The Rat, The Informant, and Detective Balthazar.
Nicknames or Other: Balthazar Jr, Balthazar, Ed, Eds, Eddie Spaghetti, Edmister, Eddie Teddy, Steady Eddie, Mund, Eddo, Edsy, E, Eddie B, E.B, and E-Man.
Date of Birth or Best Guess: November 10th, 15 years ago.
Place of Birth: Isle of the lost.
Favorite Color: Grey.
Favorite Activity: Going out for midnight slurpees.
Favorite School Subject: Lunch. It's the only time of the school day I'm awake.
Father's Name (or alias): Edgar Balthazar.
Mother's Name (or alias): Sarah Brown.
Father's Profession: None. He's in no condition to work anymore.
Mother's Profession: None. She's in no condition to work anymore.
Who is your favorite of the first wave of VKs? There is no wrong answer.
This is a dumbass question and I'm not gonna kiss anyone's ass by pretending that I like anyone from the first wave of Vks enough to deem as my favorite.
Also who even came up with the term Vks and Aks? It's stupid.
I'm not a vk. I'm a kid.
There's nothing that makes me any different from any of your so-called Aks so stop acting like there is.
I didn't ask to be born here. You made it to where I would be. So don't go punishing me for it.
In your own words, tell us why you want to come to Auradon. There is no wrong answer.
Because I don't know how much longer I can go on taking care of my parents by myself.
They're old. Really old and really sick.
And I'm just one person and a kid in an environment that doesn't really allow me to take care of them in the way one should be able to.
I can't find medication to ease their pain.
I can't find enough clean enough water for them to bathe in.
I can't bathe them.
I can't find food fresh enough often enough to not worsen their condition.
And I can't find anyone trained to help do any of these on the isle.
So while I don't want to go to Auardon I don't have a choice.
I have to.
Because if I don't, my parents will die.
My mom doesn't even recognize me anymore and she keeps asking where 'Jamie' is. She always sounds so terrified, it breaks my heart.
And my dad's mobility is getting more and more limited, and he broke his hip awhile ago.
I don't think it healed properly.
He gets more frustrated as the days go by and I don't know what to do.
I don't want my parents to die.
They might have been old when I was born and I might have gotten a lot of health issues because of it but they were good parents.
They don't deserve to die like this.
To die here.
Please.
Get us out of here.
I don't know how much longer I'll be able to take care of all three of us.
I'm always so tired and hungry now.
I don't want to worry my friends by telling them since I know they'd probably starve themselves trying to help me and my parents.
But I really don't know what to do.
Please.
Take us out of here or send someone.
We need help.
I need help.
Signature:
Eddie B.
#descendants#disney descendants#melissa de la cruz#detective eddie balthazar#eddie balthazar the rat#eddie balthazar#eddie descendants#descendants eddie#the badun agency files#the badun detective agency files#the badun detective agency au#the badun detective agency#disney descendants applications#descendants applications#disney descendants application#descendants application#descendants au#descendants aus
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So I saw this video on Pinterest of a dude with long curly hair showing his hair care routine or whatever that's called, and all I could think about was steddie. Like, imagine Steve having a spa day with Edsie and doing his hair or like them going on their first date and Eddie wants to impress so he does his hair real nice and either way the story goes Steve's foaming at the mouth wanting to swallow Eddie whole in the end
Anyways, here's the video
#steddie#hair centric headcannon#What can I do they're a couple with great fucking hair#and I'm only human#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things
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look im sorry
im single and on the market i find a hell of a lot of people attractive and call them all my wives
yk who is my wife
laia codina
~edsy
mom has a good solution to offer... @georgiaswifey ... tell her
(I mean... she comes after you - you have the same taste in women)
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@haaaawaiianshirt says: how about the renaissance of the Neibolt kids.
I say: ah, did you mean just post the literal first thing I Ever Wrote about them two years ago in a very weird second person perspective thats honestly probably really confusing where I was trying to get some sort of grasp of Neddie in my brain.
If thats not what you meant I'm terribly sorry but here you are:
~
Your name is Eddie. Just Eddie.
Eds, Eddie Spaghetti, Edsie Wedsie, a loud, familiar voice crows in your head, you want to swat it away, clap your hands over your ears and make it leave you alone- but the familiar voice cackles that ignoring him would be a bad, bad idea. You inform the voice that that’s bullshit, because it is, but you listen to him.
He seems amused by you.
He fills your lungs with tar, thick and gooey and pleasant in a way that is really not very pleasant at all. It weighs you down, until now you feel as though you’ve been floating entirely ungrounded in nothingness, but with the slime in your throat your feet scrape the very bottom of the aforementioned nothing.
It scratches uncomfortably at your bare toes.
Edith Kaspbrak, another voice informs you after a while, all round, soft vowels and warmth, too warm. The familiar voice that keeps calling you Spaghetti doesn’t like it.
You decide you don't like the name Edith Kaspbrak, Eddie is much less saccharine sweet when you roll it over your tongue. Eddie slurs well with the goo that coats your mouth, Edith cuts through it, squeaky clean and cutesy.
Your name is just Eddie.
The warm voice chuckles when you inform it of this and apologizes to you, you don't really know for what, it’s I am sorry, child is far too sad sounding to just be for calling you the wrong name. Or maybe it’s not, you don’t know much of anything at all. Maybe you should ask.
But then the voice is gone and you are alone.
Your name is Eddie and the world around you is itchy-cold and dark. There is a layer at the very top of the nothing made up of graying padding and half-torn fabric. Before, when you were just floating entirely untethered, it had arched high above your head but now that you are close to the floor it’s almost within reach.
That feels wrong but you don't know nearly enough to question it.
You float in the dark just below it, gripping at loose springs that corkscrew from the fluffy roughness of the ceiling’s stuffing, sometimes the ends of the springs pierce your palms and the sticky black bubbles from the holes and down your arms.
You fade in and out.
It’s not particularly nice, you like being in control, your life your body yours yours yours, but it isn’t as bad as it could be. You don’t really know how bad it could be but a nasty voice in the back of your head hammers in that it could be worse.
You ignore it and try to escape anyway, partially because you are a delightful little asshole who likes to push buttons, but overwhelmingly because you need to find Your Richie.
You don't know what a Your Richie is, well, you think it’s more of a who Your Richie is, because you are in love with her.
Pennywise, that is the familiar voice’s name, informs you, gleeful, accusing, and blood smeared in a way you have gotten fairly used to, that you and Your Richie are dykes.
He says it like it is something disgusting but you like gross things so it doesn’t really bother you.
Lines blur a little after your first few moments of consciousness, the words Your Richie and Pennywise and Loser and YourRichieYourRichieYourRichie slurring together in your muddled, here-but-not-fully-there brain.
Eventually after what feels like secondsyearsdayshoursalwaysnever of floating your feet hit the ground, the patchy padding splits and you poke her head through eager to see something more than your own hands in front of you; an opening that will lead you to Your Richie.
She is right in front of you.
Well, kind of, it's not Your Richie, you don’t know exactly what a Your Richie looks like but it isn’t this. She isn’t this loud, wide eyed, sloppy girl in front of you and that makes you angry. You want to kill her. She is an imposter and not Your Richie.
You just want Your Richie and you don’t think that is too fucking much to ask.
Pennywise is yelling in the back of your head to scare her, scare her, scare her and that’s good enough for you.
You ask her, angry but grinning so wide it hurts, if she wants to play loogie. She just stares.
Pennywise makes a suggestion, so you tilt your head and ask if maybe she wants to swap spit instead. The black slime in your lungs begins to spill from your lips. You didn’t know it could do that but it’s fun. You laugh because Pennywise tells you to. You look pretty manic but you don’t quite care because fake Not Your Richie acts afraid (scare her to death) and stammers and wobbles and looks stupid until another girl drags her out of the room.
Good fucking riddance.
You set out to find Your Richie, hours later than you would like but you need to wait until Pennywise is distracted and pouting and plotting to tug yourself out of the mattress that has kept you floating and trapped. It’s tacky from the slime you haven’t really figured out how to stop, your mouth is like the worlds’ leakiest faucet and more liquid is spewing out than staying in. You really don’t mind it much at all.
You find her in a room full of clowns. Well, not real clowns, at least you don’t think. They look enough like the image of Pennywise you have hidden somewhere in the recesses of your mind, despite being a lot dustier, much more colorful, and far quieter. They don’t even move. You kick one over, frustrated by its lack of reaction at your incredibly scary entrance, but it just topples, hollow head thunking dully against the hardwood.
The coffin nestled in between the rows of clowns is much more enticing. It creaks when you open it, which is a nice touch, really makes all of this seem much more thrilling than it really is. You’re just opening a box but the box has hinges that squeal, rusty and sharp, when you shift them, an adventure created by a single, grating sound.
There is a poster plastered to the lid, thick black letters that spell out MISSING, not that you really know what that means, a grainy picture of the Not Your Richie printed below it, all toothy smiles and poofy pigtails, all wrong wrong wrong.
You appreciate that half her photo is marred with a bloody smear, it seems appropriate. For some reason you can understand what the letters written across the inner lid of the coffin in blood say, though you can’t seem to place how they make you feel.
SEEN AND NOT HEARD.
You decided with the certainty of a twelve year old who was only born today that the words make sense but you are more than glad that they aren't aimed at you. Though, Your Richie is yours and you can’t quite shake the annoyance at having them aimed at her either.
She’s laying in the coffin, the second you see her something so intrinsically right clicks into place within your chest that it almost hurts. The slime dribbles to a stop.
Your Richie (now that you’re seeing her just Richie sounds more correct than adding Your in front of it, though she is yours, all yours, only yours and you you won’t let her go) lays just as still as the ugly, dusty clowns, save for the maggots that wriggle in her broken cheeks.
She is a doll. Hands folded politely on her stomach from where they had been placed and whited out eyes staring unseeing into the ceiling. You wonder, anger suddenly bubbling over before you realize it’s even there, before you can even hope to control it, why the fuck the universe would decide you were hopelessly in love with something so boring.
She’s wearing shiny little black shoes that buckle at the sides and have a strap over the top. That is perhaps the epitome of boring. Well, that and a stupid doll who can’t even move.
The only thing even remotely interesting about her is her mouth, stitched shut with thick black thread. It’s a sort of sloppy stitch job despite how cleanly the needle clearly jabbed through the porcelain of her face, crooked and stained slightly copper-brown with something your mind is telling you is blood even though that really doesn’t make much sense. Dolls don’t bleed. They’re too boring.
You go to leave, huffy and feet stomping loudly on the creaky, thinned out floor boards. It would have been a somewhat gloriously bratty exit, something you could push past your anger to be proud of, but something grabs your wrist before you can.
Without thinking you tug your arm hard away from whatever it is, off off off get off, and the something comes with you. An uncertain sounding crack that echoes through the empty, disappointing room.
Your Richie’s hand, broken at the end in an awkward sort of slant, stays tight, fingers bruising in your skin for just a second, long enough for a spider to scrawl it’s way through an over-bent knuckle-joint and across your thumb, before it falls, scattering porcelain across the floor with a shattery-crashy sort of sound you decide quickly you Do Not like. You Do Not want to hear it again.
Your Richie tilts her head in the coffin, looking just as silent and just as annoyingly dull, but also put out in a way you weren’t aware was possible.
And then the Yours, but maybe not in name, but still Yours, you're still figuring it out, Richie unfurls the middle finger of her remaining hand up at you.
For the first time in your day long life, you actually laugh. Not because any of the voices told you too or anyone said to. But because she made you. Because she did something funny. Because she’s yours and she’s almost smiling in the same way she’s almost upset at you for breaking her hand off, and she’s fucking gross which has to count for something against all the boring.
At least you think it does.
And you also think, as you tuck the spider between your back molars to get it out of the way, and offer your hand to drag her out of the coffin, that maybe, this whole existing thing might not be half bad.
#neibolt kids#fem neibolt reddie#It does Say the D-slur once and also is generally gross just a warning#neddie#n!richie#love them dearly this might make NO sense and for that im like sort of sorry but I also wrote this two years ago#which is its own apology#Ghjklghjklghjkl
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Edwina never thought she’d actually be glad to go to school, but she needed a distraction from everything that had happened that weekend. Perhaps the anxiety of the math test she had to take was better than remembering the gore strung up on the walls and on the bodies of her classmates. Edwina was mid teeth brush and giving herself her usual pep talk in the mirror before she faced her day when she heard her mother call for her.
“Edsyyyy, you have a visitor!”
Edwina rolled her eyes. It was probably Raq looking for some toast and trying to flirt with Susan Clussy like usual. She spit into the sink and made sure she looked presentable in the mirror before heading down the stairs. Instead of pink hair and a leather jacket standing in her doorway talking to her mother, she saw Jamie.
The girl knew exactly what her mother must be thinking for she knew her all too well. Sure they had agreed to start “dating”, but Edwina needed at least a week worth of mirror pep talks to try and have the “I have a boyfriend” talk with her devote Catholic parents. Seeing Susan talking off Jamie’s ear was more horrifying than when she saw someone’s kidney oozing near the beer pong table.
“Edsy baby! Your little friend was just coming in for some eggs. Weren’t you Jamie?” There certainly was nothing little about Jamie, but anyone under the age of twenty was essentially a fetus in her eyes. “You didn’t tell me you started making new pals! And he’s such a cutie pie too! Look at his cheeks!” Susan turned to the boy, beaming with glee that a suitor of the male variety had shown face at her doorstep for her daughter, “Wee doesn’t hang out with many people except Raquel. I tell her all the time that she should just invite the kids at school over for pizza rolls. . . Hmmm actually. . . Where’s Raquel, Edsy? Did you two have a fight? Are you two fighting over a bo ”
“MOM, I’M FINE. RAQUEL IS FINE. I THINK YOUR EGGS ARE BURNING THOUGH.” Edwina interrupted, putting herself between her mother and Jamie to halt further conversation. Susan got the message, smirking at both of them before winking at Jamie. “It was very nice meeting you, Jamie. I’ll pack some breakfast for you both and leave it on the coffee table. I’ll let you two talk.”
Once her mother skipped back to the kitchen, Edwina slammed the door shut behind her. The fear still lingered on her face from first seeing Jamie and her mother talking as she looked up at him. “What the hell are you doing at my house?? You’re lucky my dad left for work already or else you would’ve gotten interrogated instead of eggs!”
// @devilsward
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mistletoe
happy holidays all!!!!!! merry christmas eve to those that celebrate!! (and merry christmas to some already lmao). here is a piece of Christmassy, modern au, 15yo reddie fluff for @uhhcanigetabyeler for @it-secretsanta-2018 !!! I hope you enjoy it and that you have a wonderful holiday season! much love ❤❤❤
(warning: I'm on mobile and so I can't put a cut so....long post forgive me)
A fifteen year old Richie Tozier annoyed many people throughout the year, but at the Toziers' holiday party he was doing a really spectacular job of it.
He had brought a few bundles of mistletoe, shoved into his pockets, and was doing his absolute best to try to goad as many people into kissing as possible. He'd already dangled it between Bill and Stan and Bill had turned red and almost punched him. Stan, wearing his Hanukkah sweater and really only there because of the food, had looked bored out of his mind with Richie's antics.
When Richie had shoved it between his parents, he'd made a show of shouting "EWWWWWWW" when Wentworth gave a small peck to Maggie's lips. He confiscated that bundle of misteltoe afterward.
The threat of impending mistletoe had been enough to make Eddie wary any time Richie was near all night. Eddie's crush on Richie was forced to the forefront of his mind with all the stupid kissing, and it was really stressing him out. Plus, what was he even supposed to do if Richie tried to get him to kiss someone else? Eddie didn't like the thought.
The losers club had been at the Toziers', like every twenty-second day of every December since they were eleven, since five that evening. They'd played several rounds of Uno, the final round ending when Stan and Eddie had bickered for ten minutes because Eddie was sure thay Stan had cheated. Their bickering had only ceased when Richie dangled the mistletoe between them and they'd both shoved him so hard they'd been afraid he would fall into the Toziers' Christmas tree and then they'd all be kicked out.
They were up late. They always were at their parties. They'd played their Uno, and their Dirty Santa, and they'd all stuffed themselves with all of Maggie and Went's cooking, and were slumped all over the den's furniture watching How the Grinch Stoel Christmas, which Stan was having a really great time making jokes about. It was putting them all in stitches, anyway, because if anyone could come up with witty and snide jokes it was Stan - especially at the expense of a Christmas movie that he'd watched with them several times.
Eddie wound up leaning against Richie, but that wasn't exactly the most comfortable place to be. Richie kept laughing at Stan's jokes, and he laughed with his entire body and kept jostling him. He kept poking Richie in the ribs to try to get him to quit moving, and maybe to hide that he was really smitten every time he looked up to see tears of laughter in Richie's eyes, and his glasses crooked on his nose, and his grin so big that his cheeks must hurt.
Leaning on Richie got even more distracting after that, and Eddie got restless and stood up.
"Where ya goin', Edsie?" Richie asked immediately, reaching out and grabbing onto his shirt. Eddie batted his hand away, blushing.
"I'm getting a drink," he told him, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "And don't call me that, jackass."
"I'll come with!" Richie said, ignoring any qualms Eddie had with his nicknames, and he popped up and threw his arm around Eddie's shoulders.
Eddie slipped out from under Richie's arm, but didn't complain when Richie followed him into the Toziers' kitchen to find drinks. Richie opened up the fridge and tossed Eddie a pop, then grabbed one for himself. They were both facing the fridge, and didn't notice anyone else in the kitchen, but when they turned around they were met with a loud,
"GOTCHA!"
Beverly was there, beaming a toothy grin at them, and the rest of the losers club peeking into the room from the entry. Dangling from Beverly's fingers right between Eddie and Richie was a sprig of mistletoe.
Eddie could have kicked her right in the shin, but he was frozen. His mouth had dropped open, and he whipped to look at Richie, whose eyes looked even more huge than normal, and whose cheeks and ears and neck were bright red.
"Go on, big shot," Bev said teasingly to Richie, still grinning at them. When Eddie caught her eye she winked at him - winked! Damn her! "Put your money where your mouth is!"
"More like his mouth where his mouth is," Stan piped up, and then snickered at himself.
Eddie turned back to Richie, right as he swooped down. His glasses and nose hit Eddie in the face awkwardly, and Bill told Eddie later that he made a noise a lot like a mouse squeaking right before Richie's lips pressed against his.
It was quick, only a few seconds, but Eddie thought he might turn into a living puddle in the time it took. When Richie pulled away, Eddie had a blush to match Richie's and all the rest of the club were oohing and aahing at them.
"You've had yer fun, now get yerselves outta here!" Richie said loudly at them, in a flustered attempt at an accent.
They filed out after a minute, and Eddie set down his pop on the counter next to them; he'd just realized that his hand was cold. He wiped it on his pants.
"Guess I got what was comin' to me, huh, Eds?" Richie said, and when Eddie looked at him, he actually looked nervous. His smile was lopsided but he looked a little tense.
Eddie nodded at him thoughtfully. "I guess you did. But it was kind of a shit kiss," he added with a surge of confidence. Then he blushed, and grabbed his pop, and rushed back toward the den.
"Hey! What's that supposed to mean!" Richie called after him.
Eddie plopped down on the couch, asked himself why the holy hell he had said that, and tried to focus on the movie and not on the fact that Richie was still away. He had popped open his pop and drank a third of it by the time Richie came back.
Richie sat down next to Eddie quietly for several minutes, and there were a few inches between them that made Eddie unreasonably antsy.
Then, after ten minutes, Richie leaned over and planted a kiss on Eddie's cheek. Eddie's eyes widened, and he felt his cheeks redden, and he froze up for only a moment before leaning back into Richie.
Maybe the mistletoe wasn't all that bad overall.
#itsecretsanta18#ashton writes#reddie#i hope you enjoy! ahh#mistletoe didnt look like a real word to me for like two hours after writing this lmao#it fanfic#it fanfiction#the losers club#stan is just here to roast people
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this is awkward for reddie
this is CUTE!!!! i love my gay sons
warnings; nope
“Who the hell are you?”
“Um… I’m Eddie. Is Richie home?”
“Hm. You must be one of his loser friends— That little drunk is in his bedroom.”
“… Okay, thanks.”
It was a Sunday morning, and Richie Tozier was sleeping off the alcohol from last night.
Knock knock knock.
The curly haired boy frowned slightly as he sleepily turned in his bed, resting his cheek against the pillow so that the other side of his face pulled up.
Knock knock knock.
He was trying to ignore the sound.
Knock knock.
“Richie?”
The boy now growled as he pulled the pillow over his head.
“Go away,” he spoke against his mattress, not really caring who was behind the door; he’d put a lock to his door once he’d gotten older, to keep his dad out of his room from beating him, and it was coming very handy in other situations— like this one here.
“Richie, it’s me, Eddie— open the door!”
Eddie?
Richie sighed.
“Come on, Rich!” There was a light chuckle in Eddie’s voice; whether it was out of being amused, in a come-on-buddy-open-the-door-already way, or in a please-your-creepy-booze-smelling-mom-is-staring-at-me-from-the-living-room way; Richie didn’t know.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming,” Richie mumbled as he got up from the bed; not remembering a major detail from last night.
8 HOURS AGO
“Ayyyyyyyy shots!” Richie called out as he stood on the table, raising the plastic shot-glass holding hand up.
“AYYYYYYY SHOTS!” Everyone cheered in response before the drunken students swung the alcohol down their throats.
Richie’s face scrunched up from the burning sensation, but he just shrugged it off and threw the now empty glass somewhere to the floor before jumping down from the table.
“Another round—?” A guy asked from him, but Richie just shook his head, a little burp forming in his throat.
“Nah man, I’m gonna go take a smoke first.”
He made his way outside, glancing around the few people in packs. It was always a little quieter outside than inside.
Richie didn’t see anyone he recognized, until his gaze stuck on a brown haired boy in the swing, a red cup in his hands and his gaze on the ground.
A smile grew to Richie’s face as he jumped over the stairs and then made his way over to Eddie, falling next to him on the swing, the brunette’s head lifting up immediately.
“What’s up, Edsie?” Richie asked, placing a cigarette between his lips and then lighting it up, keeping eye contact with the other boy the whole time.
“Nothing,” Eddie mumbled, glancing away; not in the mood to argue with Richie about the nickname. Richie frowned lightly as he noticed the supposed-to-be subtle swipe of tears Eddie did.
“What was that?” He asked.
“Nothing.” Eddie shrugged.
“Was that a tear?” Richie asked, leaning closer.
“No, it wasn’t a tear.” Eddie snapped.
“Don’t lie to me, Eddie-Spaghetti.” The dark haired boy said with a playful glare. “I recognize sad eyes when I see them. What’s wrong?”
Eddie looked at him for a moment before sighing and turning his gaze down to the ground.
“Do you… do you think I’m stupid?”
“What?” Richie asked, taking a drag from his cigarette.
“Yeah.” Eddie said, turning his gaze back to Richie now.
“Why would I think you’re stupid?” Richie let out a laugh, confused.
“Because apparently— I’m a stupid faggot.” Eddie said, and Richie’s eyebrows raised lightly.
“Yeah.” Eddie nodded. “That’s what Keith McKinley said. Eddie Kaspbrak— you’re a stupid ugly faggot, and you should get out of this party, before I wreck your face.”
Richie’s jaw dropped.
“Okay I am gonna wreck his face—” he started and jumped up, only to have Eddie pull him back down.
“No, you’re not,” he said.
Richie stared at him, confused.
“Are you kidding me?” Richie asked. “After what he said to you—?”
Eddie felt his tummy turn around from Richie’s reaction.
“It doesn’t matter.” Eddie shrugged.
“It— it doesn’t matter–?” Richie raised his brows. “Eddie! How can you say that doesn’t matter—?”
“Because I don’t wanna make a big deal out of it!” Eddie snapped, staring at Richie for a while before turning his gaze with a sigh and a shake of his head.
“You’re not a stupid faggot, Eddie.” Richie said, staring at the boy next to him intensively even though he wasn’t doing the same. “And definitely not ugly.”
Eddie wanted to believe him; but the moment with Keith and the other kids around laughing replayed in Eddie’s head, his eyes closing as he squeezed them shut tighter, tears falling down his cheeks.
Richie looked at the brunette with his brows furrowed— he didn’t like seeing Eddie cry.
And suddenly he went with the feeling in his gut; he leaned towards Eddie and grabbed his face, turning it— Eddie could only have his eyes widen for a split second before Richie closed the gap between their mouths.
Eddie felt his cheeks blush— he wasn’t moving for a moment, just trying to process what was going on, before he finally kissed the boy back softly.
As Richie felt Eddie’s lips move towards his, he felt something in his chest; something that got him scared.
So quickly he pulled away.
“Feel any better?” He just rushed to ask with a clearing of his throat, and Eddie looked at him, basically starstruck, as he nodded.
“Well, great!” Richie blurted out and jumped up, taking a quick drag from his smoke. “I’m gonna go now.”
“O…kay?” Eddie asked, confused.
“Bye!” Richie said, before he shoved his cigarette down to the ground and stomped over it, before starting to rush back over to the house.
“You are stupid you are stupid you are stupid—!” He hissed to himself.
PRESENT MOMENT
Lazily the boy in sweatpants and a t-shirt slid the lock open and then opened his door, facing Eddie.
“Are you here to cure my hangover?” Richie asked, one eye still shut.
“Well, I brought coffee.” Eddie smiled, holding up a small paper bag.
Richie raised his brows.
“Wow. Um… You… didn’t have to do that.” He mumbled, surprised that he actually was there to try and cure Richie’s hangover.
“Well… I guess so– but I wanted to!” Eddie shrugged.
Silence.
“Can I… come in?” The brunette let out a little nervous chuckle.
Why did he wanna come in?
Richie didn’t understand. It wasn’t like he didn’t want Eddie to come in his room; quite the opposite, actually. For some reason the second he half asleep heard the knocking on his door, he had subconsciously hoped it would be Eddie.
He was just confused as to why the boy indeed was now in front of his room.
“I guess so,” Richie rubbed the back of his neck before he stepped aside from the door, Eddie stepping in to his room and glancing around the messy place.
“Wow,” he said. “Very, uh… you.”
Even though the kids had been friends for a long time, being now in the age of 17; Eddie had never been inside Richie’s house, yet alone his room.
The reason for that was simple, and everyone who knew Richie knew it; his parents. Which only made it weirder that Eddie had decided to show up. He knew Richie didn’t want anyone there.
“Yup.” Richie murmured, closing his door. “What time is it?”
“It’s 10am.” Eddie said.
“Ten am?” Richie blurted out. “Jesus, Eds— what time do you get up at? Five?”
Eddie laughed.
“Very funny.” He said, shoving the takeaway cup to Richie who glanced at it.
“How did you even get in here?” The curly haired boy frowned, before sipping the coffee.
“Your mom let me in,” Eddie said. “She’s very, uh…”
“She’s horrible.” Richie said.
“I was going to say unique, but sure. That works too.” Eddie nodded in agreement.
“What are you doing here, Eddie?” Richie mumbled again, rubbing his face with his gaze on the floor— the hangover was killing him.
Eddie raised his brows lightly; what did he mean? Did he not remember?
“Uh…” Eddie mumbled. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, what are you doing in here?” Richie asked. “Even though I very much appreciate this friendly gesture of yours; I don’t really recall us sharing hangover mornings together. Like, ever. In the history of hangovers. Also, you know I’m really not a fan of open-doors at my house. So, what’s up?”
Eddie felt disappointment drop in his stomach— of course Richie wouldn’t remember. What was he even thinking? This was Richie Tozier for crying out loud! He kissed everyone. Why would it be any different this time? Why did Eddie think that he might be welcome at Richie’s house, even though none of the other losers weren’t?
“God, you’re stupid,” Eddie whispered under his breath to himself as he closed his eyes momentarily.
“Huh?” Richie asked.
“Nothing— well uh, this is awkward.” Eddie stated, glancing away.
“What is?” Richie frowned.
Eddie breathed out, his cheeks widening puffer-fish style.
“You uh…” he started, before clearing his throat. “You kissed me last night.”
Richie’s eyes widened as he stared at the boy.
“I what?” He asked.
Eddie suddenly pretty much wanted to cry; the shock in Richie’s voice only made it more clear he didn’t mean it, which only made Eddie that much bigger of a fool.
“You know what—? It’s… it’s nothing. I’m just gonna go and, we can, you know— pretend like this never happened.”
The brunette was trying to walk out of the room but Richie jumped up- which was bad for his head and caused him to flinch a little- and grabbed Eddie’s arm.
“No, wait,” he spoke.
Eddie swallowed.
“I kissed you?” Richie asked quietly.
It seemed surreal. Eddie was his best friend.
“…Yes.” Eddie said.
Richie frowned lightly at him.
But if it seemed so surreal— why did everything suddenly make sense?
Why did it suddenly make sense, that every time Eddie laughed so hard his eyes were squeezed shut and he couldn’t even see it; Richie found himself smiling at the sight?
That every time Eddie was sad, Richie went off-the-hook with his jokes, until Eddie was laughing again; and that was the purest joy the curly haired boy had felt?
That when Eddie came out, and asked Richie if he’d think of him differently now, in a bad way— Richie realized he’d thought of him differently. But not in a bad way.
“Richie?” Eddie asked, as the taller boy had been standing there quietly, caught inside his thoughts.
“Huh?” Richie blurted out, back in the moment now.
“Did you just fall asleep?” Eddie asked, confused. “Like with your eyes open. Cause I swear it just looked lik—”
His sentence was cut off by Richie’s lips on his.
Eddie was taken aback, even more than last night, because this time Richie was sober and kissing him.
But he still answered to the kiss, a lot more carefully than the night before— but as he felt Richie’s tongue on his lower lip, the boy basically swooned against the taller boy’s chest— and then Richie pulled away.
“What’s going on?” Eddie breathed out. “Because I am very confused. You can’t just keep doing that.”
“I’m sorry,” Richie blurted out. “I’m just… very confused.”
“Well, Gee, tell me about it,” Eddie raised his brows as Richie had just stolen his words. But honestly, Eddie had zero fucking clue what was going on at this point.
Richie tilted his head, trying to learn his best friend in a whole new light now.
“Have you… liked me?” He asked.
Eddie’s eyes widened.
“Have I liked you—?” He blurted out. “Are you kidding me? Richie, I have liked you ever since I can remember!”
“Wow,” Richie just said.
“Yeah.” Eddie said. “Wow, indeed.”
“How did I… how did I never see it?” Richie frowned.
“I don’t know,” Eddie shrugged. “I guess you were too busy with the girls of our grade.”
Richie bit his lip as he stared at Eddie, who stared back at him. Richie’s gaze was getting way too intense, so Eddie decided to speak before it was too late;
“Okay, are you about to kiss me again? Because I’m gonna need a heads-up.” Eddie said.
“Am I gay?” Richie asked.
“Gay?” Eddie asked. “I don’t think you’re gay, Richie.”
“I’m about to kiss you again.” Richie said fast, not really even listening to Eddie, before he leaned down to press his mouth on his, their tongues colliding now softly. This time the kiss was shorter than any of the times before, but definitely more relaxed. It was like the two of them were getting more used to the idea with every kiss exchanged.
It felt… more normal, more meant to be, every time they did it again.
Then Richie pulled away.
“Oh yeah.” He said. “I’m gay.”
Eddie let out an amused, yet gladden laugh.
“Richie, you don’t have to be gay. You can also be b-”
“I don’t care. Let’s do that again,” Richie said, grabbing Eddie from the waist and pulling him to the bed, the smaller boy still chuckling as his hands were now tangled in Richie’s neck. Richie’s, who was still shocked over how he’d never understood his feelings towards his best friend; because look at all the fun he’d been missing out on!
“Our coffees are gonna get cold,” Eddie reminded between one of the kisses.
“Eddie Kaspbrak, with all due respect—” Richie started. “I couldn’t give two shits about some coffee right now.”
“Okay,” Eddie just nodded; at this point, frankly, he’d rather take Richie’s kisses too. The curly haired boy gave him a quick smile, and was about to kiss him again but stopped.
“Also—” Richie said. “This is the best cure for a hangover I can think of.”
Eddie looked at him and smiled, basically floating on cloud 9.
“Good.” Eddie said, and now he pulled Richie’s head down to his; knowing he was gonna have to smother his lips in chapstick that night.
@nopetaking @xbell22 @donthateonk8@stenbroughbros @reddiebrekmyheart @itsgreywaterrichie @donvex @blueeyespurpleskies @ageorgymi @oh-youre-the-worst @eddiekaaspbraak @whipashwhipash @rissyq @richietoaster @edskasqbrak @waterlouis @wyattghouleff @urtury @bukiminajimu @kcutieeesblog @stansmansuris @adorefack @reddieaddict @icyeyes102 @denbroughbill @graveyardshipper @taletellingsir @anxiety-freak-yuuri @rheddie
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