I am holding up. Well.

Ranking all the Jesuses from every version I've watched/listened to so far

without further ado let's get into it 🙌

Ian Gillan - 1970 Original concept album

The True Doer that you cannot outdo. The og who made this role what it is today. And since the og album was were I got my start and obsession with jcs, I have a huge fondness for him. There's just something so- so... about him. His vocals? Insane, fantastic, the golden standard. His Gethsemane is Everything. He raised the bar so high (literally lol) and made this role harder for everyone that came after him and I respect that. I also love his characterisation. He is a rockstar and he knows it. Adore this whiny ass messiah and his dramatics. 9/10

Ted Neeley - 1973 movie

Sad little mouse man. He's like some small rodent to me. His gethsemane is iconic, but beyond it I don't care to much about his Jesus. He's perfectly inoffensive, but I find him a bit boring. Poor guy also had the disadvantage of performing against Carl Anderson, who's too powerful and who commanded every scene he was in, outshining Jesus. Tedsus is not for me personally, but he's definitely not bad. 6/10

Camilo Sesto - Madrid 1975 album

I like him! He reminds me of Ian's Jesus but sadder (love to see it). Really good vocals. That 'POR QUE' ate. And his Gethsemane in general too. I don't have that much to say besides that, but Señor Sesto is really good in this role. 8/10

James Whitson - San Jose Civic Light Opera's 1990 production

Uhhhhhhh. Watched this in a discord watch party and for half of it we were thought this was Ted. It wasn't. Don't really know what to say, there wasn't anything really memorable or notable about him. Also has the disadvantage of being pared up with Carl Anderson, except it's even worse here. If Carl was anywhere near him, no chance I was paying attention to Jesus. Um... he chased Santa out of the Temple! That's something! 3/10

Steve Balsamo - 1996 London revival album

Steve Balsamo Jesus, my dearly beloved. How can you not love him. Just rewatch his Gethsemane for the 1000th time. His vocals are out of this world, man has organ pipes in place of vocal chords. Props to him for actually crying in gethsemane and still killing it. Absolutely fantastic. And his beautiful hair and those brown eyes really add to it. He's such a sad pathetic man, it's great. No complaints 10/10

Glenn Carter - 2000 movie

I'm shaking, please buy him brown contacts. I am a glensus hater, although I have to admit that during my second viewing I didn't dislike him as much. Easily my least favourite gethsemane (lmm excluded), except his delivery of "what you started, I didn't start it", that was surprisingly good. Again, I'm a hater but bonus points for the entertainment factor. 4/10

Paul Nolan - 2012 Broadway revival

BORING! Sorry your trouple doesn't save you from being so incredibly bland. It's like looking at a white wall that has just been painted over and you're watching it dry. Gethsemane is solid vocally, I like his interactions with others. But Jesus himself? No thanks. The staging of the crucifixion was so great, but then there he is with his mouth agape like a baby bird being fed and unconvincing "suffering". Also, no blood? 3/10

Ben Forster - 2012 UK Arena tour

THIS IS THE ONE. My roman empire. My most dear blorbo. He's been living in my head rent free for months. I love him so much. He's just so incredibly stressed out and angsty and pathetic and constantly on the verge of a complete mental breakdown. His gethsemane is my favourite. Just pretty much everything I could want from a performance of it. The way he curls up on the floor? The little moments when his voice breaks a bit from emotion?? The knee thing??? Great, fantastic, stunning, no notes. Also I adore his costuming, finally Jesus is given something more interesting. 11/10

John Legend - 2018 NBC

Hot take, but he's not nearly as bad as people make him out to be. He's just fine. I do enjoy his voice, Poor Jerusalem is especially good. Although I don't love his acting in the second act, but I really liked him in the first one. This Jesus just seems really nice and friendly and I love that. Gethsemane is solid vocally, even without the G5. Anyways he's not bad at all! 6/10

Andrew Latobesi - 2018 Villanova College

This was another wildcard from the watch party. Jesus didn't stand out much because we were all a bit distracted by Judi. And Mary. He was bland and the acting was not fantastic, but this is a high school prod, and for what it's worth he's not bad. Gethsemane was solid enough considering everything. The crucifixion surprisingly hit, good crying there. ??/10 since I don't think it would be fair to rank him against all those adult professional performers.

Jack Hopewell - 50th Anniversary North America tour

The only Jesus that made me cry while watching. He suffers real good (and looks very pretty while doing so). He's just so- so... I just wanted to wrap him up in a soft blanket and give him a kiss on the forehead and feed him soup. Tbh I think he's one of the best vocally too. His high note is my fav. Gethsemane in general is just great too. Love how much he's just some silly guy who then has to face the Horrors. He's just very cute :] 10/10

Jeangu Macrooy - 2024 Netherlands national tour

The most poor little meow meow Jesus ever. He's so pathetic it's great. Him smiling and being happy was also so cute. Really good vocals too, man killed those high notes. His gethsemane too... Jeangu Macrooy absolutely steels the show and it's fantastic and incredibly heartbreaking. Want to see his performance again so so badly. In the meantime everyone should check out a snippet of his performance 10/10

Health Inspector Blues

“…and there’s the employee washrooms in the back.” Bev finished rattling off, popping her nicorette gum for emphasis. She waved her hand magnanimously at by far the cleanest washroom Ben had ever seen in a restuarant. “Any questions, new kid?”

Ben shook his head, trying to remember everything the tiny redhead had told him in their ten-minute tour. He was only the bar back for now, taking over from Bill, the main bartender when he “went on a retreat”. He had thought that was a euphemism until Bev, the FOH manager, winked at him and told him Bill liked to fuck off to the woods for months on end and emerge with some weirdo short stories.

The whole restuarant was sparkling clean, not just the washrooms. It was almost surreal, coupled with the aggressive amount of informational posters in the staff areas. Everything from hand-washing instructions to the dangers of botulism when canning was plastered over every spare bit of wall that was out of sight of the customers. And the posters themselves were scribbled over in the margins, neat edits mixing with jokes and doodles and even what Ben swore was a recipe for pho ga over an official poster describing unsafe food temperatures.

It did clash horribly with the actual restaurant’s decor, which was bright, colourful and almost a bit too loud if someone had asked Ben (he wished the designer had taken advantage of the lovely vintage wood wall in a way that didn’t involve kitchsy neon, but no one ever asked him), but he couldn’t help but feel reluctantly charmed.

Reluctantly charmed was also the likely response people had to his new boss, chef-owner Richie Tozier.

Richie was friendly, funny and a bit loud but Ben didn’t mind. His friend, Mike, worked here as a server between shelving at the library and said he was paid on time and had family meal every day they were open. So that was nice.

Ben was watching Bev walk him through changing a keg (it felt too awkward to tell her he knew how to do that already) when he noticed a very pretty, very grumpy looking short guy standing outside the door.

“Should I, um, tell him we’re closed?” He offered, indicating the door.

Bev’s face lit up and she whipped her head around to holler at the back: “Richie, your beau is here!”

“Fuck yeah, let him in!” Came an equally loud holler in response.

Richie’s beau turned out to be a health inspector with a clipboard named Eddie Kaspbrak. He wasn’t wearing his uniform but he introduced himself as “Eddie Kaspbrak, health inspector” to Ben before Richie came barreling out of the kitchen.

He skidded to a stop by almost crashing into the bar, grinning widely.

“Eds!” He crowed, “You came!”

“You invited me.” Eddie snapped back, “And don’t call me Eds, I’ve told you a million times—.”

“Look, look, I fiddled with the bleach ratio and it should be perfect now.” As he spoke, Richie opened the bar door and pulled Eddie through and into the back with him, ducking around Stan.

Beside Ben, Bev returned to the keg.

“Don’t stress about the health inspection, new kid, that’s just Eddie.” She told him. “He gave us a passing grade months ago but Richie’s invited him back basically every week to show off just how clean the restuarant is now.”

“Why?”

Stan, the other chef, was now digging into the bar fridge.

“Richie’s obsessed with him and they’re both stupid.” He said, emerging with a single lime. As they watched, he started peeling it like a clementine.

“You okay to slice some lemons?” Bev asked Ben, digging around in her apron until she found a package of cigarettes. Ben nodded.

Now alone, the restaurant as as quiet as it could get. There was the hum of the sanitizer behind him, the soft clacks of his knife hitting the chopping board.

It was quiet enough that he could hear people talking softly behind him.

Ben’s momma had told him not to easvedrop. But in this case, he couldn’t help it.

“…understand why you keep doing this.”

“Aw, Eds, you know why.”

A soft groan of frustration. “It’s not you, Richie. I don’t eat at any restaurants.”

“You’re killing me here.” Richie’s voice was softer than Ben had heard before. “I’m really trying.”

“It’s not… I know. No one’s ever tried as hard as you before.”

“At keeping a clean kitchen?”

“You know what I mean.” Eddie sounded fond. It was sweeter than reluctantly charmed.

“I swear, you won’t get tuberculosis from my food or whatever. Scouts honour.”

“I don’t even know if that’s what I’m worried about anymore.”

“What if…” And Ben had to strain to hear. “What if it wasn’t here? What about my place?”

“…Would you literally cook for me?”

“Of course, Eds. I’ve been trying to for months.”

“Jesus.” A laugh. “Fuck it. Okay. Yeah, Richie, I’ll let you cook for me.”

Ben expected him to cheer. But Richie was quiet, so quiet that Ben jumped as he suddenly opened the BOH door.

“Hey,” And Richie’s whole face was lit up, smile wide but sincere, “new kid. Can you tell Bev and Stan that we’re not opening today? I’ve got a private dinner date.”

And he did just that.

@reddieweek

do you think dave was there when klaus got the klaus loves dave tattoo? what wouldve been his reaction?

“You don’t actually have to tell me what it means,” Dave says. “If you don’t want to.”

He’s looking at the tattoo again, mostly as an excuse to touch Klaus’s bare stomach, not that he needs much of an excuse at this point, but also because it’s the most beautiful tattoo he’s ever seen in person. Every line is delicate, perfectly balanced between his ribs. It’s symmetrical, but when Dave gets close enough, he can spot all the little natural variations in strokes that show it was done freehand.

“Nah, I’ll tell you,” Klaus says.

Dave should probably check over his shoulder to make absolutely sure they’re still alone, but Klaus’s skin is right under his nose, so he leans in the rest of the way and kisses it before he pulls back.

“Okay, Klaus says, scooting up until he’s nearly in Dave’s lap in the dirt, “keep in mind that my Thai is rusty, and dad only really ever taught us how to do PR and negotiate hostage release anyway, so I’m taking Phichit’s word on some of this, but it looks right, I think? It doesn’t not look right. The top line is right, I know that.”

“Start there, then.”

Klaus leans back on one hand, which stretches out his whole torso, and Dave almost reaches out and grabs his waist, but Dave’s been asking this question for five days, so he doesn’t immediately derail things by getting handsy. Klaus’s hips will still be there in a few minutes, probably.

“So this,” Klaus says, pointing to ยู with his free hand, “that’s U - basically U, an english U - and that,” he points to เอ, “is A.”

“Umbrella Academy?”

“Yep,” Klaus says, popping the p.

“I love that,” Dave says. “It’s like - it’s a tattoo for your family?”

It’s not surprising. For all that Klaus insists he doesn’t mind hanging around in this decade until Dave can finish his tour, there’s a look he gets when he talks about his brothers and sisters. It’s probably why he understood so easily when he asked Dave to come home with him, and Dave said he would, but that he needed to go home first, too.

“Sort of, I guess,” Klaus says. He taps the ยู with his finger again, then the เอ.

“So the rest is - what, all their names?”

“My name’s the next line,” Klaus says. He runs his finger along the boxes that spell out เคลาส์. “That’s pretty close to Klaus, which is cool. Maybe that’s why dad had me do Thai? I always thought Thai, German, and Tamil were a random main three to give me, but - yeah, that’s K, L, these little guys,” he points with two fingers at เ and า, “that’s like, owu.”

“Is this Hargreeves?” Dave touches the เดวิด along the bottom row, which is maybe playing with fire in terms of keeping them on topic, but also, Klaus is nice to touch. “It doesn’t look long enough.”

“Not, um,” Klaus says. “Not Hargreeves, no.”

“It can’t be everyone’s names, there aren’t enough spaces for that, either. Is it Ben?”

“Not Ben.”

“I recognize this,” Dave says, and he traces over the character at the start of the row. “Owu.”

“Part of it, yeah.”

Dave glances up at Klaus’s face, which is a little more flushed than it usually gets while Dave’s still above the belt. 

“This one was sort of the hard one,” Klaus says, all in a rush, “because like, obviously when you’re going between languages, there are sounds they have and sounds they don’t, there are a ton of sounds in Thai that it takes like a million English letters to make, if you even can, so this - we had to get creative, I guess, and we, here,” he points at วิ, “this is technically a W sound? Because there’s no, um. There’s not really a V.”

Dave looks at it.

“So it’s not perfect,” Klaus says. “These are D, though,” and he points to the ด on either side, “and that - I think it mostly gets the point acro-“

Dave grabs his waist and kisses him.

Klaus makes a soft noise and slips his arms around Dave’s shoulders, and they do what they inevitably end up doing whenever they have time to themselves. They’re both scratchy with stubble and Dave’s mouth probably tastes how the rest of him smells, but Klaus presses forward and licks between his teeth anyway. Dave likes Klaus’s body no matter what state it’s in. Maybe that goes both ways.

“You are crazy,” Dave says, when he can bring himself to pull away.

Klaus nips at Dave’s lip. “S’that the good kind of crazy?”

“The best kind of - Klaus, you got my name,” Dave says, and then he laughs, he can’t help it. “You better hope we don’t piss off anyone who reads Thai.”

“If we do,” Klaus says, “I can - well, I can either be really formal or really aggressive, and I might accidentally call you a prisoner? But-“

Dave kisses Klaus some more.

They have time together tonight, but not that much time, so they let the kisses trail off after a while. Klaus is fully in Dave’s lap now, his legs wrapped around Dave’s hips, his fingers in Dave’s hair. He’s beautiful, even coated in a layer of dirt from the last four days of marching. He’ll be beautiful after four more weeks of it, four more months, right up until they march all the way out of here.

“You’re not mad?” Klaus asks, softly.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been less mad.”

Klaus hums and tucks his nose into Dave’s curls.

Dave rests the tips of his first two fingers on the รัก at the very center of the temple. “What’s this one?”

“Ah,” Klaus says into Dave’s forehead. “Well.”

“It’s just one letter, right? Or two?”

“No, that’s actual Thai.” Klaus sits back enough to look at his own belly again. “Yeah, rạk.”

“Rak.”

“Loves,” Klaus says, “is, um. Is what that means.”

Dave opens his mouth, but nothing comes out of it, so he shuts it again.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Klaus says, “don’t-” and he swipes his thumbs over Dave’s cheeks, which are wet. “You already knew that. I tell you all the time.”

“I know,” Dave says.

“Do I need to tell you more often?”

“No,” Dave says, and then he sniffs, embarrassingly. “No, it just.”

He’s not actually sure what it just was leading up to, so he lets Klaus pull his face into the curve of his neck instead. He wraps one arm around Klaus’s waist, and keeps the other between them. The skin is a little raised everywhere the tattoo gun landed. Maybe Dave can learn the shapes of the letters by touch before they heal.

“This is it,” Klaus says, “just FYI. This is, like - this is the gesture. I don’t know if I really have another one in me.”

“I don’t think I could handle another one.”

“I do,” Klaus says. “Love you, a lot, so.”

“I love you, too.”

“I know, baby.”

“I really,” Dave says, “really, really wish we had a door that locked, right now.”

“I’m not saying I’m counting down,” Klaus says, “but-“

“Four months,” Dave says into his collarbone.

“My lucky number.”

Dave lets Klaus hold him a little longer while he gets himself together. He doesn’t start bawling the moment he pulls back and sees Klaus’s stomach, which is a good sign. That’d get inconvenient, with Klaus’s shirt allergy.

He steers Klaus back off his lap and onto the dirt so he can get in close and look at the tattoo some more, and then he kisses it again, right where it says how Klaus feels about him.

“I’ll get one for you,” Dave says. “Once we’re home.”

“Nah, you don’t gotta.”

“I want to. Does anyone in your family speak Yiddish?”

“Just Five,” Klaus says. “He used to, at least. I dunno, forty years in the apocalypse, conjugation is probably the first thing to go.”

“So if I get something really romantic-“

“Oh god, do it, I wanna see his face.”

“Okay,” Dave says. “I’ll get it, and then I’ll wait five days to tell you what it means.”

Klaus says, “Fair’s fair,” and kisses the tip of Dave’s nose.

oh shit... are we in love?

summary : in which everyone thought of them to be oblivious but they're already a step ahead.

pairing : ben barnes x reader

warnings : language

author's note : i love this man. and there's an acute shortage of ben barnes fics on here, so here you go. <3

also, im think im gonna make this a series so here's a couple things you should know :

a) inayat is y/n's character name in shadow and bone and she's a grisha, of your choice but im gonna write it as a heartrender im not sure tbh

b) y/n and ben were together in the netflix orginal series of the marauders era ( messrs and miss ) and her character's name was aurelia

part ii

part iii

part iv

masterlist

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liked by benbarnes, kittheyounger, amitasuman_ and 3,189,823 others

y/n_ let's gooo!! so excited for this

tagged shadowandbone

87,628 comments

username SO EXCITED !!

username i can't wait !!!!!!!!!!

username YAYYYYY!! BEN AND Y/N FINALLY IN A PROJECT TOGETHER AFTER MESSRS AND MISS

benbarnes 🖤 can't wait to work with you again darling

-> y/n_ <3 me too love!! it's gonna be so fun

jessie_mei_li i love you

-> y/n_ not more than i love you

username the cast is so fucking beautiful

username i can't wait for all the alina and inayat, aleksander and inayat, kaz and inayat content

username can't wait till they're on press tours, doing interviews and stuff so we can get content like 'ben and y/n being in love with eachother for 8 minutes'

freddycarter1 yk you're supposed to meet us at the cafe, you're already 15 mins late

-> y/n_ it's ben's fault, i swear it's that hair of his

username ben and y/n ben and y/n ben and y/n ben and y/n ben and y/n ben and y/n

username this cast is bi panic

username ahhhhh this is so exciting

amitasuman_ come back soon, we're gonna binge watch b99

-> y/n_ ofc wifey <3

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liked by aarontjohnson, archierenaux3, y/n_ and 3,86,829 others

benbarnes she made me her personal photographer and stopped every 5 minutes to get a photo

tagged y/n_

71,628 comments

username they're in love

username (yourshipname) ready to sail !!!!

y/n_ don't act you didn't secretly loved it 🙄🤚

-> benbarnes i don't have to act, i didn't

username they give off so much sirius and aurelia vibes i miss them

andrewgarfield *wink wonk*

-> benbarnes ??

daniellegalligan_ stfu and take bLoOdY amazing photos of my wife

username i love one(1) healthy relationship even tho they're not dating

-> username ...yet

jessie_mei_li i love her and i love this photo keep doing what you're doing

lbardugo please guys, get back to the set. we're literally filming

kittheyounger this is why she called me from the set to take candids of her when you refused to?

-> benbarnes yup she did

-> kittheyounger and you sat in the cafe nearby drinking tea?

-> benbarnes yup i did

username post more videos of you both playing the piano and singing!!!

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liked by calahan.skogman, freddycarter1, andrewgarfield and 3,729,628 others

y/n_ heLP MY BOYFRIEND'S SO CUTE

tagged benbarnes

79,826 comments

username OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG JSKFNDJKSKDKDKDKDK

lbardugo so happy for both of you <3

username IM CRUINH WTF

freddycarter1 🤍🤍

username AHAHHHHHHHSHHSHSBXJXHXHZJ

username ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh

benbarnes i'll stop when you stop being so beautiful

-> y/n_ sir-

username i love them my lord

tchalamet that's my disowned brother y'all

-> y/n_ ben says go and get some swimming lessons

aarontjohnson not cuter than me ofc

-> y/n_ um, obviously 🙄🤚

username HOW CAN THEY JUST DROP SOMETHING LIKE THIS AND PEACE OUT

username please. give. us. another. season. of. messrs. and. miss.

username HAPPIEST DAY OF MY LIFE

amitasuman_ i love you both :)

username IM NOT OKAY IT'S FINE I DIDN'T NEED A HEART ANYWAYS

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liked by tchalamet, freddycarter1, jessie_mei_li and 3,67,829 others

benbarnes thank you so much for being in my life and making me the happiest man alive. from messrs to miss to shadow and bone and till forever, you've been here with me and i couldn't be more grateful for you. here's to the love of my life, you have my heart <3

tagged y/n_

89,782 comments

username CRYING SHAKING SCREAMING THROWING UP

username THEY'RE SO CUTE

andrewgarfield fucking finally!! it was getting hard not to say anything

username DUDJIAKJXFDZNIZKAODUDBCKAK

jessie_mei_li TAKE CARE OF MY WIFE OR I'LL GET ZOYA TO KICK YOUR ASS

y/n_ wtf i'm crying- who gave you the right to do this?

-> benbarnes please don't cry, i love you and don't lie, you live for this

username THEIR LOVE STORY IS EPIC

username this is gonna make the press tour even more fun ahhh can't wait

calahan.skogman so happy for you guys much love <3

lbardugo i feel like a proud mum

daniellegalligan_ im literally crying i love you both so much

username the cast supporting them i love this

username congratulations!!!!

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You Have My Blessing: Part 1

Part 1: First Meet

//Warnings: Mentions of A!DS//

~~~

When he first got the news, he was beyond excited. He had gotten the part of John Richard Deacon for the new Bio-Pic, Bohemian Rhapsody. The movie was all about the rise of Queen as well as some of the hardships that the band’s Front Man, Freddie Mercury went through. Miraculous enough, when Freddie found out he had gotten AIDS, he had been able to get treatment for it and the treatment was successful. Now, he was still touring with Queen. All four members were still rocking out in their 70′s. 

~~~~

“Okay guys!” Brian Singer, the director of Bohemian Rhapsody shouted, getting everyone’s attention. It had been a few weeks since the cast of the movie had arrived in London to film. Joe was beyond excited to learn that he would be acting, once again, with one of his best friends, Rami Malek, who was playing the man himself, Freddie Mercury. “We’re going to be having the actual band Queen coming in about an hour. We are also going to be having a photoshoot of Rami, Ben, Gwil and Joe in their costumes for Live Aid. So, actors, please start heading towards makeup, hair and costumes!” Brian shouted. The cast and crew gave their cries of thanks for the announcement and everyone started working at twice the speed they had been. Since Rami was playing Freddie, he was the first to get into costume and makeup since he also had to wear false teeth to get the overbite that Freddie has. After getting in costume and makeup, the four actors made their way to the fake stage of Wembley Stadium. There was the sound of five car doors shutting and the legends themselves walked out and stopped dead. They stared in aw at the stage that had been built by hand. 

“Holy shit,” Freddie muttered, running a hand over his face, wrinkled by age. A woman with [h/l] [h/c] hair was standing between John and Freddie. She chuckled at the legend’s reaction. 

“Does it look identical, Papa?” She asked. Freddie gave a breathless laugh of amazement. 

“I-it looks just like the stage from all those years ago.” He said softly. The woman smiled softly. She looked at her grandfather and their uncles. She could tell that they had all been transported to that day; July 13, 1985. She moved to stand in between her two uncles, gaining the attention of the older rock stars. She linked her arms with Brian and Roger’s. 

“Well, shall we go and meet the younger you’s?” She asked. Roger and Brian chuckled at the young woman’s energy. Roger affectionately patted their hand. 

“Yes. Let’s go and meet our younger selves. Shall we, lads?” Roger asked, looking at his friends. Freddie’s aw-struck expression then turned to one of mischief. 

“Yes. I look forward to giving those young lads a scare.” He said. The woman chuckled and shook her head. 

“Papa Freddie, behave.” She chided playfully. Freddie scoffed playfully. 

“Oh, always, darling.” 

~~~

Butterflies filled Joe’s stomach as the four aging Queens ascended the stairs to the stage, ready to assess how accurate the actors and costumes were to themselves. Joe’s breath was caught in his throat when he saw a beautiful woman, her arms linked with Brian and Roger’s. He assumed that she was one of the rock stars’ grandchildren. The woman’s jaw fell open when she saw the four actors lined up. 

“Oh my gosh. You all look, identical to Papa, Uncle Roger, Uncle Bri and Grandad.” She said astounded. She made her way down the line, assessing the boys. She had some criticisms with Roger’s actor, seeing as he didn’t have the short hair he did during Live Aid, but she knew it wasn’t his fault. She stopped in front of Joe. “Especially you,” she said. Joe swallowed nervously. 

“Um, me, miss?” He asked. The woman smiled and nodded. 

“Yes you, silly. You look a lot like Grandad did when he was at Live Aid. The hair and everything,” she said. She then gasped and chuckled, her cheeks flushing. “Sorry, where are my manners,” she stood back and addressed the actors before them. “I’m [Y/N] [M/N] Deacon. Granddaughter of John Richard Deacon.” She introduced. Joe smiled. [Y/N] [M/N] Deacon. What a woman. 

//okay. So I know I said I would try and keep it Gender neutral, however it’s pretty difficult for me to do that. I’m so used to making the reader in series and imagines I write Female. I want to make this clear. This does not, under any circumstances mean that I have anything against the non-binary community. It is just a little bit harder for me to make the reader in imagines and series that I write gender neutral. I hope that you understand and continue to give this series love regardless. I’m not trying to force anyone to do anything, it just brings my confidence up when I see that my imagines and series are getting love despite the fact that the reader in the writing isn’t gender neutral.//

~~~

Here’s the first part of the “You Have My Blessing” Series with Joe. I hope you all like it. 

just some uhh um post show headcanons

THESE GUYS ARE ALL I'VE BEEN THINKING ABOUT LATELY so i'm going to share some headcanons for the characters after they finally get home haha

ben

- very chill and easygoing, yet somehow still very alert to his environment

- doesn't care for his appearance much anymore, much to his mother's dismay. his hair is constantly messy and, rather than collared shirts and khakis, he opts for more comfortable clothes when he can, like t-shirts and sweatpants

- has severe nightmares about his experience in jurassic world

- joined an art club in school and takes drawing classes in his freetime

- also joined track because he has a lot of built-up energy that he needs to burn in healthy ways. also, i reckon he really looks up to yaz and enjoys competing with her, which is why i think he'd do track lol

kenji

- tries to talk to his father more often, but they still bump heads a lot

- still lazy, but is working to improve his grades and such since being with the others helped him realize his issue with procrastination

- constantly convinces his dad to pay for trips so the camp fam can meet up often

- took up piano for fun and realized he really enjoys playing. he got his dad to sign him up for lessons and can play quite a few songs by memory already

- still struggles with keeping his feelings bottled up, but is slowly learning to open up with help from darius and sammy

darius

- his mom and brother are a LOT more protective over him now, which can be a bit exasperating for him to deal with

- adopted a pet dog to help cope with trauma, probably named it a dinosaur pun or something stupid like that

- tries to avoid a lot of his directly jurassic world related interests, such as the video game he used to play all the time, but still loves dinosaurs and such all the same

- very irritable, his family will talk to him and he'll lash out for no reason whatsoever. he often needs to talk to brand for comfort

- even though his dad's death still hurts, he's come to a better standing with it and is learning to move on. he finally painted the model dinosaurs in his room and is more open to talking about his death with his family

yasmina

- likes to draw the camp fam a lot, especially sammy. when they have group calls, she gives them little sketchbook tours

- she gives ben a lot of art tips in individual calls, and lowkey loves seeing his drawings even though they're not that great

- her hurt ankle still affects her, and she's started wearing a brace to help quell the pain during competitions and practices. it sucks, but she's very grateful that it isn't worse

- cut her hair short after she got home

-after getting closer with brooklyn, she has a newfound interest for makeup and fashion in general. she likes to practice when they meet up, although she's not very good at it. ben jokes about it sometimes since she jokes about his drawings so much

brooklyn

- still travels around the country for her channel, and whenever she's near where her one of her camp friends live, she insists that she must visit them before they go back home

- started doing ballet, but has a lot of trouble keeping up with the schedule due to her youtube filming schedule

- went on hiatus on social media for the first couple months that she was back home, but has since gotten back into the groove with encouragement from her friends

- kenji and her are especially close, and they love doing stupid youtube challenges whenever they're together (i/e chubby bunny challenge, friend does my makeup challenge, etc)

- loves singing, but only does it for sammy and darius at the moment

sammy

- she constantly apologizes to her family for leaving home without permission, but they've definitely forgiven her. no matter how many times they say that she's forgiven, she still feels horrible

- loves baking!! whenever she's with the camp fam, she makes them baked goods to share during their activities

- very into hockey and american football

- joined show choir and has performed a lot of shows ever since. she absolutely loves the rush of dancing and singing on stage, and it's especially nice when the camp fam comes to watch her

- made them all friendship bracelets and mailed them to everyone :D

and that's it for the headcanons so far! i want to write/draw something for a couple of these but i might not since i'm lazy lol

The Owl House: A Blight on Gravesfield (Chapter Five)

Five

The sun rises over Gravesfield.

...so the first essay topic will be up online this afternoon. Now back to weird local myths!

In 1660, King Charles II was restored to the English throne, and the whole Civil War period came to a close. Sort of. There was still a lot of political and religious controversy in both the British Isles and in the colonies; but that’s mostly a topic for another course. We are going to be following the continuing adventures of the Wittebanes.

John died in 1672 of pneumonia, but before he did, he had a family house constructed on his estate; that house, the Historic Wittebane Home, is still, and access is free to all Gravesfield residents, so if you have some time it’s well worth a visit. Although it looks small and uncomfortable now, in the 1660s it was the height of colonial luxury.

John left his estate to his son, the confusingly named John Philip Wittebane. We’ll call him John Philip to avoid too much confusion. Before John Philip took over the estate, he had sailed both as a merchant and as a buccaneer in the Caribbean; we believe he sailed with Henry Morgan in the raid on Maracaibo in 1668-69. While there, he purchased investments in a number of industries, and while he divested from them when he returned to Connecticut to collect his inheritance, they had made him a very wealthy man.

He immediately put his wealth to use by buying up most of the small farmers around Gravesfield, and by 1690, it was reckoned that most people in Gravesfield were employed by him. It became effectively a Wittebane company town, with John Philip even serving as the city’s mayor several times.

This is where our next myth comes to play; that in 1687, John Philip Wittebane had a woman put to death for witchcraft, and that consequently, her ghost haunts the Historic Wittebane Home.

Now, I’m a historian, I can’t tell you ghosts are real. That’s a job for ghostbusters. But was a woman really hanged in Gravesfield for witchcraft, nearly twenty years after the end of the Connecticut Witch Trials?

The local newspaper tell us that on June 13th, 1687 - a Friday - a ‘vagrant, suspected by some of heresy and witchraft, was duly hanged by the magistrate on account of the cruel and vicious murder of Henry Finch, who had been struck down while attending the ��pigges’ on the Wittebane estate.’ So we have a clear cause for the hanging, and a ‘suspicion of witchcraft,’ but we don’t have a connection.

Frustratingly, this newspaper doesn’t tell us how poor Henry Finch died. Was he cruelly hexed? Well, if we go digging about in the archives, we might find a different story…

----

A brisk and foggy dawn was breaking over Gravesfield.

Ben Frakes was not a man of means by any stretch of the imagination, and as he stepped out into the cold air, he wished he could afford a car. (Well, he could, but it was hard to justify the expense.) It had been an uncomfortable night. Life in his one-room apartment had its charms - chief among them proximity to the college - but on cold nights it could be miserable, especially when his radiator was still broken.

Still, he was in fairly good spirits. His course on Gravesfield’s myths, and the truths behind them, was going very well, and the students seemed engaged. And it was a very good time of year to be in the history business; the annual Gravesfield History Fair was coming up, something he always looked forward to. It was always a riot; apart from a small county fair, there would be historical talks and tours of the old battlefield and the Historical Wittebane Home, and even the yearly battle reenactment; one which Ben had taken part in every year for his whole time in Gravesfield.

He was always on the Redcoat side and therefore always lost, but having fun was the main thing. Even if it was a bit of historical revisionism on the part of the townsfolk.

He was just starting off down the sidewalk to the college grounds when he spied a rustling in the nearby bushes. For a moment, he was prepared to dismiss it as a rabbit or a bird, but then, to his astonishment, a little white head poked out.

“Is that a cat?” he asked himself.

Slowly and gently, he crept forward, leaning down behind the bush. The cat emerged, gently headbutting his outstretched hand.

“Hmm… too much grooming to be a feral,” mused Ben. “Have you gotten out of someone’s yard?”

Carefully, he picked up the cat.

“Am I gonna have to print out a wanted poster for you?” he asked, chuckling. “I’ve got some milk in my fridge, maybe… what the?”

His gaze turned to the cat’s paws. Just under one of the back paws, he could see a peculiar mark, almost like a lock. He frowned.

“That doesn’t look healthy,” he mused. “Okay, pre-class prep can wait, I think you need a vet.”

He started off in the direction of the vet. He wasn’t concerned about making it to his class; that was still hours away, and he’d been planning on spending the morning doing some marking. But that mark… cats did not have marks like that.

At least, not in his world.

----

Camila was not an oblivious woman, especially when it came to her daughter.

She had had some suspicions the night before; most people wouldn’t jump through a portal into the unknown to get their friend to help, after all. But things were messy and upsetting, and people did irrational things under stress, so she’d shelved that thought.

When she walked into her living room the next morning and found them sound asleep in each other’s arms - well, suffice it to say, her suspicions grew a bit.

When Luz eventually blinked open her eyes, she found her mother sitting on the couch with a cup of tea in her hand, smiling wryly down at her.

“Good friends, are you?” she asked.

Luz blinked, and then glanced over to Amity.

She yelped and pulled herself out of her friend’s arms, which in turn woke her up with a start. Both sat up, Luz turning bright red.

“What’s going on?” demanded Amity. “Are we being attacked?”

Camila took a sip of her tea.

“Don’t worry,” she replied. “If we are, I’m sure Luz is very well protected.”

“Mooo-oooom,” groaned Luz, burying her head in her hands as Amity turned red too.

“Uh, Ms. Noceda, it’s… I’m…” Amity scratched the back of her head. “Please don’t get mad, Luz…”

“Mad?” Camila tilted her head. “Why would I be mad?”

“I… um… I…” Amity stammered.

“I need to take a shower!” exclaimed Luz. “Far away from here! Goodbye!”

She darted off the inflatable mattress and out the door.

Amity buried her head in the blanket, moaning softly. Camila frowned, moving a little closer to her.

“Amity,” she asked. “Is everything alright?”

“Sure,” sighed Amity. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

Camila reached down and put a hand on her shoulder. She was surprised to see Amity jolt away from her; her frown deepened.

“If you ever need to talk,” she said. “Just remember that I’m here.”

“Thanks,” replied Amity, looking away, “But I don’t think I will.”

She got up and walked away.

----

Luz spat her toothpaste out into the sink (she was surprised at how much better-tasting human toothpaste was than the stuff they used on the Isles, although it probably didn’t provide the same magical plaque protection) and washed her hands, whistling to herself. She didn’t know why - it wasn’t as though she was calm or cheerful - but perhaps music calmed the soul.

“Okay,” she said to herself. “Gotta go back to the historical society. Maybe there’s a lead to getting Amity home on that creepy curator guy’s conspiracy board… also wanna see if the bookstore’s still there. I think Amity would like it.”

She turned to the door and immediately froze.

Camila was leaning against the closed door, arms crossed.

“I think it’s time we talked, mija.”

Luz pursed her lips.

“...do we have to do it in the bathroom?”

i | THE BIRDWATCHER.

SYNOPSIS: You spend some time brewing over big news, and Ben has a favor to ask.

GENRE: Coming-Of-Age, Drama, Angst, Romance, Slow Burn.

PAIRINGS: Stanley Uris/Reader, confusing Richie/Reader, Unrequited!Beverly/Reader, Bev/Ben, Pining!Eddie/Richie.

WORDCOUNT: 4.5k

WARNINGS: Profanity, semi-nudity, gay pining. Bullying, homophobia, etc in future chapters!

SONG RECS: 'She' by Dodie.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: I made a post about my choice to rewrite this series, so here's the first chapter! The Losers' Club are all fifteen here, but this is still set in 1989. Pennywise doesn't exist. Reader is bisexual, or at least interested in guys and gals (& maybe non-binary pals! Whatever floats your boat!) Also if this all over the place don't come at me pls. Slightly edited and idk if it is even good so— 🤪✌🏻

There's been quite a few changes :)

MAY 1989.

DEAR LOSERS' CLUB,

No, that wasn't personal enough. You wanted each of them to know what they meant to you. Each of them.

DEAREST BEVERLY,

Why must your thoughts always drift to her first? Why can't she be third or fifth?

TO RICHIE,

You huff dramatically and crumple the notebook paper, attempting to toss it into the waste bin a few feet away.

A detached sigh tumbles from the wide desk across from you, and your history teacher slowly retracts his novel from in front of him to reveal an unamused expression.

He rolls his tongue against his cheek, and waits. When he is met with silence, he shifts in his seat. "... Aren't you, uh... Against wasting trees or whatever?"

You blink. "Yeah, obviously."

"Yeah, obviously!" Mr. Ellis laughs bitterly, and rolls his eyes. "Well, can you waste them a bit quieter?"

Before you can respond, he puts up a finger like he's suddenly been enlightened. "Or, better yet— Leave."

You tap your fingertips against your thighs, and kick your feet up onto your desk. "You know, if I didn't know better, Mr. Ellis, I'd think you didn't like me or something."

He stares at you blankly. "And where on Earth did you come up with that idea?"

You shrug, "No clue. Mr. Ellis, can I confide in your honest feedback on something?"

"I imagine you will anyway—"

"—So, listen... I'm going on a personal journey when summer break is over and I'm afraid I won't ever see you again," You explain, curving your brows inward. Your teacher uses his index finger to trace a single tear gliding down his cheek. "And, um, I don't— I don't know how to.. How do I tell the only true friends I've ever had?"

He pretends to think it over long and hard. "Let me see..."

"I don't care," He finishes, picking up his novel where he left off.

You scowl, and drop your forehead against the surface of your desk, the echo reverberating throughout the empty classroom, save for two people.

Mr. Ellis unwraps a cookie and takes a large bite, and glances at you intermediately between pages. He sighs again. "Will you leave if I tell you what to do?"

"Faster than when the lunch bell rings," You chirp, grinning brightly and leaning forward eagerly on your desk.

He rolls his eyes and puts his feet up on his desk, and pressing his back into his chair. "Go have some fun. Get high. Jump off roofs and ding-dong ditch. Just go be a kid, and tell them when the time is right. Okay?"

   A light breeze rushes through the windows propped open with history textbooks, rustling the papers stacked on Mr. Ellis's large desk. Outside, the faint echo of laughter and summer jitters resounds within the four walls surrounding you.

You nod firmly, and skip to an open window.

Tossing him a grin, you give some finger guns. You crawl up onto the large sill, and before you hop out, Mr. Ellis calls your name.

He has the softest expression you've ever seen on him. "Listen— It's been a pleasure having you. Even if you were the loudest, most persistent, and possibly the worst student I've ever had. Just, uh— Be honest with your friends, okay? Don't wait 'til the last minute. They'll never forgive you if you do."

You give him a two-finger salute before hopping out the window.

You found out you were moving away from Derry in early April, due to an accident involving your grandfather's motorcycle obsession, but there was never really a good time to tell the people you've been slumming it with since you were eleven. The first time you tried, Richard Tozier pushed you off a cliff (a story for another time), and the second time, Ben burned himself on Beverly's flat iron (also a long story). The third time, the words fell dead on your lips when Stanley Uris told you you were the closest thing to a best friend he had.

You swear he was on the verge of tears.

So, you postponed. Now, it's late May, and you haven't said a word to them.

You know you have to tell them— You know this, you do, but the timing is never right. At least, that's what you keep telling yourself— Because somehow the words "you're a coward" are far too intimidating to admit.

Especially to yourself.

Heat swells across your cheeks, the massive, and rowdy, kitchen bustling with voices and feet. Your apron hugs your waist and you peer over your shoulder at Beverly, whose red hair is vibrant against the pale walls. Her blue eyes glance up to meet yours, and they are gentle. Bristling, you face Stanley on your right, who is speaking softly with an elderly woman on the other side of the counter.

The soup kitchen is a bit vacant in terms of people to serve, as it's the first few minutes before the dinner crowd pools in at seven. This time is the most peaceful— Pots and pans full of nutritional foods are filling up quick, and you're all anxious to help anybody who walks in the doors.

In Derry, there isn't much funding for volunteer work, so you do what you can— The local church offered up lodging for the soup kitchen, so you're all pretty thankful for the church leaders.

You study Stanley silently, his eyes focused and mild as he speaks with the woman. He's grown quite a bit since last summer, and he let his hair grow out a bit, so now it's a wild mess of curls. You like that he's eased up on the product, so he's all-natural. In order to catch what the woman is saying, he leans forward, in all his 5'8" glory.

He glances at you and places a hand on the woman's shoulder. "Thank you for telling me, Louanne. I'll see what I can do."

She smiles. "Bless you, Stephen."

You snort while she waddles off, and Stanley leans on the counter with his attention locked on you. There's a hint of amusement in his eyes.

"She seems sweet," You say, "How you liking volunteering, Stephen?"

He tries to prevent himself from laughing. "Stop! That's so mean, she's sick."

"What ever do you mean?" You quip, leaning on the counter next to him. Stan rubs your hair into a frizzy mess and stands tall.

"Uris, I need you over here on dishes," Willow, your team leader, shouts from across the kitchen. You can only briefly catch her curvy figure before she disappears behind the doorway.

"Nah, Willow, I got it! Stan's good with the old ladies. Real player, this one," You respond, poking Stan's stomach, "Maybe you'll get lucky."

"That's gross! Go away."

You laugh maniacally.

The dinner rush is heavy once seven hits, but it fades out at about 7:45. People are ecstatic that's it stew night because they are allowed to take a styrofoam bowl on the go. A few stragglers are permitted to camp the night out in the main hall, as the homeless aren't taken to kindly in Derry. Mayor claims it's 'bad' for traffic and tourism, but you know that Derry is the last place anyone would want to tour in. You're pretty sure it's been wiped off the maps, but that's a conspiracy theory for another time, one that Richie had so kindly coined.

Most of the kids who volunteer at the soup kitchen in the church are hoping to capture some hours for the college applications, but you volunteered because you felt like it was the right thing to do; It was simply convenient that it looked good on apps.

There's light shuffling and clanging as volunteers work to clear up the church for Sunday mass. You balance a tray of plates and glasses pressed against your chest with one arm, while you wipe down a table. There's a hand on your shoulder that suddenly startles you, causing you to drop the tray on instinct.

Glass shatters everywhere, then silence.

"Fuck!" You whisper violently, and you drop to your knees, frantically trying to pick up as many shards as possible before Willow comes screaming.

Beverly is beside you, as is Stanley, and all three of your try to clean the mess.

"God, I'm so sorry," Beverly says, "I didn't mean to freak you out."

"Uh, no, no, it's okay," You reply quickly, looking up at her. She smiles softly.

You flush and revert your attention back to the problem at hand. Your cheeks burn a bit, so you try to ignore it— But it leads to carelessness, and you give yourself a clean cut across your forefinger.

Hissing, you retract your hand and examine the damage. The minute you notice red, you become uneasy. Beverly and Stanley both take a sharp inhale.

"Oh, God— Uh, Stan, you got this? I'm gonna go get her cleaned up," Beverly says.

"Yeah, I got it."

"Thanks. C'mon, let's go," Beverly tells you, but you shake your head.

"I'm fine! S'just a cut. I can slap a bandaid on it later," You reassure her, but she's not having it.

"Now," She warns, gripping your arm softly.

Bottom line, Beverly Marsh can make you do anything she wants you to.

You kick your legs out in a steady beat, seated on a counter, while Bev digs around the first aid kit in the storage room. Her back is facing you, so you have a chance to study the freckles up the top of her spine and into her hairline.

You hold your right hand with your wrist, squeezing harder each time your wound throbs.

"Got it," Bev whispers, and she turns quickly. Positioning herself between your knees, she takes a hold of your finger and wipes it briefly with a wet cotton ball. Next, she uses a clean one to wipe disinfectant across the slit. "How bad does it hurt?"

You lie. "Not much."

Her blue eyes look at you with amusement. "Please."

"Okaaay. A bit more than 'not much'."

"Hm," Beverly applies a bit of cream on your cut. "What kind of bandaid do you want?"

She holds up plain, princess, and car bandaids.

"What the fuck are those? Gender-specific bandages?"

She says your name sternly.

You sigh. "Princess, please."

Beverly smiles and opens the package.

The room is quiet for all except the rustling of the paper, and you pop your mouth awkwardly.

"Hey," Bev says slowly, "Um, listen... You do realize that Stan—"

The door is cracked open and the curly head of Stanley peeks through. "Hey... The cut isn't bad, is it?"

You and Bev glance at each other, and Bev shakes her head.

"No, not at all. Just finishing up," She replies, sticking the pink bandaid on your wound. You hop down and wiggle your finger at Stanley with a grin.

"Good as new!"

He smiles softly. "Glad you're okay. I cleaned up all the glass, so don't worry about it."

"Okay! Thanks, Stan," You say, hooking your arm around his neck. He prickles a bit but relaxes immediately.

Beverly unties her apron and lays it on her forearm while she walks on your free side. "M' still upset Ben couldn't make it."

"Me too," You agree, "He was really looking forward to it."

"He can always go without us," Stan adds.

"It's not the same, though!" You say.

Stan shrugs.

It's humid outside the church, but that's to be expected during the summer. The sky is a deep cloudy sapphire, with the buzz of bugs filling the air. The older volunteers disappear into their cars while you, Stanley, and Beverly talk amongst yourselves. Bulbs above the entrance are the only source of light within a few yards.

Beverly puts her weight on her left foot, the gravel beneath her crackling while she recites a story Bill told her about local legends.

Just as she reaches the climax, the church doors creak open and Willow appears. She keeps her back to you while she locks the entrance, and once she turns, she eyes the three of you.

"Y'all need a ride?"

All of you glance at each other, and Stanley checks his watch.

"We'd love one!" You chirp, giving him a light shove.

"If it's alright with you, of course," Bev adds.

"I wouldn't have asked if it wasn't!" Willow says sharply, but without venom. "Hop in."

Somehow, you end up squeezed in the middle, with Stanley and Beverly on each of your sides. You scowl, eyeing the passenger seat with a purse in it.

Stan's clearly uncomfortable, his shoulders curved inward while he anxiously taps his kneecaps. He seems to be looking everywhere but at you and Bev.

"Everything okay?" You whisper.

He shrugs. "Yeah, just, uh— My mom isn't big on me getting home so late from the kitchen; She wants me to quit."

"That's fucked," You say.

"Hey!" Willow barks, glaring at you through the rearview mirror. "I may your super cool team leader, but I still don't appreciate you using a dirty mouth in my car."

You snicker, and she bursts into laughter.

Beverly pokes your shoulder. "Hey, um— Would... Would it be cool if I stayed with you tonight? My dad, he, um... He went out drinking when I woke up, so—"

"Of course," You interrupt. "Stay however long you need."

"Thanks..." Bev says quietly, and she leans against the window of the car.

Willow pulls up into your driveway within five minutes, and Bev steps out. You make an effort to give Stan a brief hug before you go, and he gives you a little wave as Willow leaves.

You and Bev remain quiet when you sneak into the house through the front door, in fear you might wake your mother. When you enter the living room and see the woman's knocked out cold with the television on, you wave Beverly upstairs. She obliges.

You creep up to your mother and crouch next to her head. She's got a bit of drool pooling on the cushion, and you crinkle your nose.

Retrieving a pillow from a loveseat, you tuck it gently beneath her head and pull a blanket over her. Giving her a quick kiss on the forehead, you leave a glass of water and ibuprofen on the coffee table.

"Does she always do that?" Is the first thing Bev says when you reach your bedroom. You're a bit taken aback, but you regroup swiftly.

"Yeah. She gets these really bad migraines," You explain, leaving your bag on the floor and kicking off your sneakers. "And, um, they can sometimes turn into seizures, so we try to let her sleep as comfortably as possible."

"Oh," Bev says, "Can I borrow some pajamas?"

"Yeah!" You reply, "Just grab something from the closet or my drawers."

"'Kay," She snags a blank tank while you pick out a yellow nightgown. You're facing the mirror when Beverly pulls off her t-shirt, and you nearly choke. You can't seem to take your eyes off her back, even when you know you've been staring for too long. "Is your little brother asleep?"

You drop your attention to the floor and quickly pull off your shirt. "Yeah, should be. I'll kill the little shithead if he's not."

Bev smiles. "He's a good kid; If he's awake, he's probably reading. He likes to read, right?"

"Yup," You pop the 'p', "He's into numbers and all that. I'll never understand it."

"He probably thinks the same thing about your art, you know."

You hum and pull the nightgown over your head. "Everybody thinks that way about art, Bev. If you're not dedicated to a nine to five office job, then you're somehow a deadbeat, leaching off the productive middle class."

Bev laughs gently, and it's airy and elegant and perfect. "You're always opinionated, you know that?"

When you toss her a quizzical look, she elaborates and walks over to face you. "Not in a negative way; It's like... It's like you must have all these thoughts swimming around in that pretty head of yours."

Pretty?

Beverly continues. "I mean, you're just so... I don't know? Most people don't care about anything, let alone the world or society. You're bound to make a difference."

You blink at her, your fairy lights hanging loosely from your window and spreading a gold light. Her ocean eyes are iridescent. She's iridescent. Her pink lips curve into a smile, and she glances at the floor.

"What?" She whispers.

You sputter. "N-Nothing. Just, um— Thanks. Thank you, really. I— I just, nobody's taken me that seriously before," You explain, tucking a thick strand of hair behind your ear. "I've always just been Loudmouth."

Bev's face melts into one of sympathy and curiosity, her long eyelashes brushing her cheeks. Gingerly, she places a hand on your shoulder, one that shoots electricity throughout your skin. Her grip tightens. "Listen. Quiet people don't do shit, okay? People who keep their opinions to themselves don't make history."

You shrug a shoulder and give her a lopsided smile. "I can't even make a difference in backwater Derry. How the hell am I supposed to change the world?"

Outside, rain begins to patter restlessly against your windowsill, keeping the stars awake. Inside, Beverly looks at you like she just might think you're a goddess.

"You've already changed mine."

Your entire life, people have told you how the world has to be: Simple, honest, and conservative. They've told you who to be, who to love, what to do. It's always been "you'll meet someone who makes you feel like the world is glowing", followed by, "don't rush, you'll find him soon". What if you don't want to find him? What if you want to find her?

What if you already have?

Beverly Marsh is incomparably the prettiest girl you've ever seen when she's jumping from the cliff into the lake below.

Scratch that, she's incomparably the prettiest girl you've ever seen, and she makes your universe glow.

She's a flash of red, shimmering, shining, iridescent; A ruby tossed into the sky like a plain penny into a wishing well.

   She's radiant, tomboyish, and beautiful.

Beverly, in all her elegance, has learned to tame your chaotic hair, your wild eyes, and the crooked pair of overalls that swallowed your thighs. Her, that gentle smile, rendered you speechless daily. You, notoriously nicknamed Loudmouth or Mouth, were silent for her.

You've already changed mine.

"Hey, Mouth! The hell are you gawking at?"

Richie Tozier waves a hand in front of you and you crank your eyes up to his squinting face. His freckles surround the massive pair of glasses on the bridge of his nose, and his black hair nearly blinds him.

You throw up a palm to block the sun, but his giant head is doing most of the work. "Your mother over there in her Sunday best."

If he swung his body around any quicker, his head might have popped off like a Barbie doll. He gazes off into the woods across the quarry, his lips upturned in an unattractive flytrap.

Beverly slips her cream-colored gown off her pale shoulders, drawing all eyes to her. The sun beats down on her chopped red locks, accenting the constellation of freckles along her nose, and warming your flesh under its rays.

Catching the way they all gaze at her, as starstruck as yourself, it hits you like a freight train— you weren't looking at her like you should have been.

Under the intensity of her icy blue gaze, you feel so small; so homely. Your chest aches, but that girl doesn't give you time to grieve. She is in the air in a split second, high like an angel, falling towards the murky waters below.

  The boys crowd around the cliff's edge, mouths gaping, eyes bright. It strikes you from the heavens, like a harsh cacophony: These aren't your boys anymore.

  You had slipped out of the world briefly, and before long, you are alone at the edge.

Sandy curls appear in front of your face, tilting to reveal the kind eyes of Stanley Uris. His mouth forms a firm line. He seems to be at war with himself as he stares out into the blue sky, dotted with white clouds.

  He stays silent for a moment, searching for the right words. "I want to go last," He finally breathes, seemingly triumphed in his verbiage, "I don't want them to see me cross my fingers behind my back before I go."

  The vulnerability he expresses warms your heart, and you grin up at him, having gained your confidence back. You are grateful he didn't pry into your dilemma. You didn't expect otherwise, but it was still nice. Stanley is a boy of few words, but the word 'shy' doesn't fit right, as it implies bashfulness or a sweet innocence.

   Rather, he prefers the quality of speech over quantity, believing that the chattiest voices aren't always the loudest. A respectable notion, sure, but you tend to believe it in theory rather than in practice.

   Stanley's thin frame makes no unnecessary movements, but rather awaits yours. One of his hands cuffs the other in front of his hips. The cool breeze had only an inch to squeeze between within the crevice of your shoulders.

You pull your yellow scrunchie from your hair, and wrap it around your wrist, as Stanley speaks, "Promise not to tell?"

“Pinky promise,” You insist, holding up the smallest finger on your right hand. When his wraps around yours, you toss him a childlike grin. “I never break them.”

   You're gone, cascading down towards the green waters, each wave crystallizing in your descent.

     "I know."

Stanley crosses his fingers behind his back and steps off the cliff's rocky edge.

Stan’s dive is a flash of gold: Like a bird, graceful in its dip, his curls like its wings.

  You find yourself wanting to ask him what it's like to fly.

The water is cool, luckily fizzling the heat out of your cheeks when Beverly appears beside you, grinning softly at—

Bill.

You swallow thickly and turn your head to Richie and Eddie arguing about something pointless. Richie's skin is set ablaze every time Eddie points a finger at him or moves closer.

Across from you, Ben's eyes are set on your face, and you nearly jump when yours land on them. He sputters silently and glances over to the boulders near the trees.

You tilt your head in question, "Ben, what is it?" It's too late now, but you realize you weren't very subtle. At all.

He facepalms. "Can we, uh...?"

Nodding in understanding, you doggy paddle through the lake and onto the shore. Ben is quickly beside you.

The boy leads you over to the boulders and sits on a large one. His hands are glued to his knees, and you can tell he's anxious.

You lean your elbows on your thighs and wait.

"U-U-Um— Can I..? Would you..?" He shakes his head suddenly and regroups. "I need— I need help with something..."

"...Okay..?" You gesture for him to elaborate.

"Can you help me write love notes to Beverly?" He spits out softly, and you choke on your own spit.

You stand up abruptly, like you sat on a pin, and cross your arms. Your brows curl inward in confusion, embarrassment, and anxiety. "W-What? Sorry, I don't— Why?"

"Because... You are a girl, you know? You know a lot more personal stuff about her, I think, right?" He asks, rubbing his clammy palms together.

"Uh," You run your fingers up your arm, "I guess? I don't think... That would be... She doesn't..."

He gives you an awkward crooked smile. "I mean, it's okay 'cause you're a girl. I wanted to ask Bill or someone else but since they're guys it might be different..."

"H-How so?"

"Well— You know. They might secretly like her or something," Ben says, staring at the dirt by his feet.

You swallow, and glance out to the water; To where she is. Beverly meets your eyes and smiles gently. Your stomach does a flip.

"Can I— Can I think about it?" You inquire softly, and Ben nods swiftly.

"Yes! Yes, of course. That's okay," He sounds a bit sad.

You reach out and rub his shoulder. "You're an amazing person, Ben, you know that? She'd love anything you wrote to her."

You smile crookedly, the corner of your mouth twitching.

Ben nods slowly and shakes his arms a bit to free himself of nerves. "You're right— I should just be more confident..."

He's obviously trying to convince himself more than you.

"Bev—" He shouts suddenly, and she looks over with a grin. One of her hands runs through her hair, and you can feel her eyes burning holes in your face just seconds before she focuses on him. "You look beautiful today!"

Beverly Marsh smiles ever so gently, her cheeks blossoming in a shade of scarlet. The freckles lining the bridge of her nose accent the brightness of her eyes, and you swallow thickly.

She really does.

Tapping a pen against a thick sheet of paper, you push your tongue against your cheek and read over the words again.

PROS:

♡ helping ben!

♡ practicing writing!

♡ practicing stationary!

♡ getting ben and bev together!

♡ making bev feel good!

♡ getting over the butterflies?

You scowl. The hell does that mean? You glance at the clock, which reads 8:37. You consider the pros to writing anonymous love letters to Beverly, which seems to be a lot— And the selfish part of you tells you that it would be beneficial to you— How so? You're not quite sure, as admitting to yourself that it even took nearly an hour.

Within your friend group, you've always been relatively open— Keeping up with honesty, kindness, and always wearing your heart on your sleeve. Stanley said it was naive to do so, but you feel that in a world that is so blatantly harsh and negative, being real with those around you is a heap of good. So why is it suddenly so difficult to be honest with yourself?

You concentrate your thoughts of Beverly, so that you might understand, or in the least identify, what exactly your true intentions with her are. Immediately, your stomach curls, and you feel your insides turn to mush. These sensations are familiar— You've had countless encounters with them.

You picture her in your head, memorize the features of her that always seem to stick when she's around. Her red hair, her freckles, those eyes... And her lips. The curve of them when she grins, or laughs— And briefly, ever so, you imagine what'd they'd be like pressed against yours—

"Hey," Your mom says, your door now swung open, and you scream, tipping out of your desk chair. You land flat against your back and groan.

Your heart beats painfully in your ribcage.

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you. Come do the dishes," She tells you, and you nod profusely.

You inhale through your nostrils and run your fingers through your hair, sighing. Once she's gone, you push your head into the crook of your elbow.

Tears unravel into your arm.

Why did it have to be Beverly Marsh?

[ 🌱 ] taglist (from original write):

@hannarudick @cedricisnotonfire @russian-romanova @pacifythepanda @queen1054 @thebitchiestnerdtowalktheearth @delicrieux (you get to be on here cuz.. i said so).

Baby Mama-Reddie X Surrogate! Reader Imagine

Request: Anonymous: Hiii could you maybe do a hc or imagine either is fine where Richie and Eddie (it ch 2) are married and they want a baby so they ask the reader who’s best friend with both of them to be their surrogate and she says yesand after that babies born they ask reader to be godmother! If you don’t wanna that’s fine thanks

A/N: A bit of an auish where Eddie is actually a doctor also, the name I chose is an Easter egg to my babe @hellsgrove​ and her great story of them adopting a kid it’s so cute go read it here!

Warnings: None

Tonight felt great you were out to dinner with your best friends, who do to your busy schedules you hadn't seen in a while. You with just your higher up position at the office in general, Eddie at the hospital, and Richie with his most recent tour finishing up. 

It was nice when the three of you had some downtime to just relax and joke around, even if the restaurant they had chosen for then night was on the fancier side. 

And when they had told you they wanted to ask you something, also do to the restaurant choice you assumed it was important, and you always made sure to listen to your friends concerns. 

You were about half way through the dinner when Richie puts his fork down and sighs."I can't take it anymore Eds can we tell her?"

Eddie rolled his eyes at the nickname, considering he married this asshole he knew he'd have to deal with it for life at this point. After that he also nods allowing Richie to start whatever their proposition would be.

 "Okay so we've been talking about this a lot and really trying to think it through so-," he gets cut off by Eddie chiming in.

"And you could totally say no, it'd be okay and we would understand." 

"Yeah we would. Okay so we really want to start a family, and we considered all of our options, and thought that we would...,"

Richie freezes for a minute, a rare sight, which made you tell he was very nervous about everything, Eddie sense that and takes over.

"We wanted to ask you if you would be our surrogate? We know it sounds crazy and out of the blue, but we really did think of all of our options over, and when we decided on having a surrogate we knew we wanted someone we trust more than anything, rather than interviewing a bunch of candidates, and both our minds automatically went to you."

You were stunned by their offer.

"Well I um-"

"You don't have to answer tonight if you don't want to. Take as much time as you need," Richie adds.

"I just have some questions. First off whose....ya know....is going to be used?"

"Mine," Eddie answers.

"Yeah we talked about it and like the fewer kids that have my genes the better. They'd be too beautiful, but also blind as shit" Richie remarks, making Eddie roll his eyes again.

"Plus I mean we both have dark And dark eyes so it would look a bit like both of us in some way," he finishes. 

You just nod, really trying to think about it. You wanted to support them you did, but at the same time it was such a huge commitment, and a life changing one at that. 

On the other hand, it also warmed your hear that you were both of their automatic thoughts for something like this.Sorting through everything quickly in your mind as you wanted to give them an answer tonight, you weighed out the pros and cons and then decided.

"I'll do it."

"You will?," Richie asks, both their faces lighting up.

"Yes. I love you guys and after all you've done for me it's the least I could do for you."They each hugged you, thanking you so much for this.

Boy did you have no idea what you would be in for. 

When Richie and Eddie proposed the the idea to you, it was clear you were definitely nervous about the whole thing, but now however 4 months into your pregnancy, you couldn't have been happier to have said yes. 

You did always want kids, and while this child wasn't exactly yours you knew that the guys would let you babysit them and see them enough to where you would still have a bond. 

Your body wasn't the only thing that changed either -which was already showing a lot-, of course since you had a relatively normal life compared to Richie when the news was announced the press was all over it. 

You had an immense gain in followers across both Twitter and Instagram, along with having to go with the guys to events, or at least as many as you could for pictures next to the guys with their hands on your belly and what not. 

You even had a camera man or two stop you in the past few months on the street. While it was all very overwhelming, you understood that "celebrity baby" news was big. 

They also stayed outside your apartment sometimes for shots of Richie or Eddie when they came over with whatever you happened to be craving that day. 

While Richie came over a lot, Eddie was at your place nearly everyday giving you vitamins and supplements to make sure the baby would be more than healthy. 

They also accompanied you during each hospital visit, only time they didn't come in was during the appointment where you could find out the gender, them both wanting it to be a surprise.

As it went on the next few months, if you thought the middle of your pregnancy was tough, the near end of it was like torture. 

Now at 7 months you were more than showing, and if you didn't know any better you would think that you were pregnant with twins, although the doctor assured you that was not the case.

"Hey mama," Richie greets as you enter their place.

"Hey."

"How you feeling?"

"Good. Good. Ah!"

"What?! What's wrong?!"

"Nothing the baby just kicked."

"Really?", he asks with a spark in his eyes 

"Yeah. This kid is definitely a mix of you and Eddie with how feisty they are."

"We picked names today."

"Really? What are you thinking?"

"If it's a boy Toby and if it's a girl Rachel," he smiles.

"Those are nice."

"Took us forever to settle on ones we both liked. If it was a boy Eddie wanted to name him Xavier or Graham like do you know a kid named either of those names that doesn't get the shit kicked out of him?"

You laugh.

"Can't say I do. Then again I don't know many kids in general so who am I to judge?"

He shrugs and asks if you want anything, for the moment you decline and then just talk about all kinds of stuff they have started getting a few things for a nursery, Ben having built them a great quality crib for the baby. 

The closer it got the more excited and on edge they seemed.Time flew by and soon enough it was time for this baby to get out of your body. 

You had pretty much lived with the guys these past few days as the baby was ready to come out any second. And it chose today when this morning shortly after waking up, your water broke. 

After rushing you to the hospital, came so many hours of labor.Richie was trying to lighten the mood with some jokes, but they were doing anything except helping. 

"Richie I'm in immense pain and about to be split in half by your child so if you don't shut the fuck up I will punch you in the dick so hard, it will make it impossible for you to have another one."

He threw up his hands in surrender and looked at Eddie terrified.Soon enough it was time, after a whole lot of pushing, their baby was born.

"It's a girl!" the doctor announced.

"She's beautiful," you say holding her.

"Welcome to the world Rachel Kaspbrak-Tozier," you coo as you rock her.

"Eddie she has your eyes, and the mix of our noses kinda makes hers look like yours Rich."

"Thank you so much for all of this Y/N," Richie says.

"Seriously we couldn't have had a better mom for her, but we have one more thing to ask."

"What is it?"

"For doing all of this, and putting up with us during it, and everything else would you be her God Mother?"

You started to tear up, and unlike their initial question of them asking you to be their surrogate no thought was needed here.

"Yes. Oh my god you guys of course."

Shortly after everything you moved out of your old apartment complex and into theirs, that way your little family could be even closer and so you could watch Rachel grow up. 

Honestly for as much as they panicked Richie and Eddie made great dads, and as you had thought you were the number one babysitting option when they needed it. 

She adored you and it warmed your heart that you actually got to have an even stronger bond with her than expected.

THE LONDON SUEDE - interview with Simon Gilbert (1997)

Interview Featuring Drummer Simon Gilbert, Who Is Actually a Nice Guy Unspoiled by Success

By Daiv Whaley, MOO Mag. Archived here.

One of MOO's many mottos: "When you can't interview the main member of the band, grab the drummer. He's always starved for attention." Daiv Whaley talks with The London Suede’s beatmaster Simon Gilbert.

MOO: Alright, so Suede has returned to the airwaves after a two-year absence with Coming Up. What's different about this one? Simon: Well, it's a lot more direct and easier to listen to than, certainly, Dog Man Star; a lot more rhythm-based ... MOO: Which is great for a drummer! Simon: Oh yeah, it's great for me -- we spent about six weeks just doing the drum tracks; we took a lot more time than we normally do. Plus, it's got a lot of keyboards on it cuz we've got a new keyboard player, Neil, who's my cousin. MOO: Um ... was that a riddle? Or an interview question? I don't know who your cousin is -- I'm supposed to be asking the questions! Simon: No, Neil is my cousin.

Hugely entertaining, 20/10. Full interview under the cut.

When British upstarts-with-attitude Suede first burst onto the fertile London music scene in the early 90s, they were note only performing and recording a statement against the tranced and lethargic shoegazer scene (remember My Bloody Valentine, all you mod listeners?), but also fueling frontman Brett Anderson's love-affair with all things glam-rockish; i.e. Bowie, T-Rex, leather posturings, androgyny, ass-shaking audience flirtation, and potent pop rock. Melody Maker, the "Big Ben" of English music culture, even named them "best new band" of 1992. Then, they changed their name to the London Suede due to technicalities, got all arty on Dog Man Star, and performed a submarine dive from public view as Oasis and Brit-pop rose to the surface of the toilet ... er ... the pond of the microcosm which is the British rock scene, though several critics credit Suede as being the forerunners of Brit-pop, anyway. Now it's 1997, and the London Suede have risen again to deliver their third full release, Coming Up. Whether the "coming up" refers to Suede's bank account figures or a vomitous reaction from their fans at their new sound is a subject MOO's Daiv Whaley tries to discover, oh-so-politely, as he chats with drummer Simon Gilbert, all the way from the gray shores of England.

MOO: Alright, so Suede has returned to the airwaves after a two-year absence with Coming Up. What's different about this one?

Simon: Well, it's a lot more direct and easier to listen to than, certainly, Dog Man Star; a lot more rhythm-based ...

MOO: Which is great for a drummer!

Simon: Oh yeah, it's great for me -- we spent about six weeks just doing the drum tracks; we took a lot more time than we normally do. Plus, it's got a lot of keyboards on it cuz we've got a new keyboard player, Neil, who's my cousin.

MOO: Um ... was that a riddle? Or an interview question? I don't know who your cousin is -- I'm supposed to be asking the questions!

Simon: No, Neil is my cousin.

MOO: Oh, sorry.

Simon: So, we have some very good pop songs on it -- there's going to be five singles, and we could have done seven or eight, to be honest. It's just a much more accessible album, and it's opening people's ears who haven't been listening to Suede before, particularly in Europe and Britain. We're selling a lot more records than we ever have before.

MOO: That's riffing.

Simon: Yes, it is riffing.

MOO: So then, is Suede a pop band or a rock band?

Simon: We're a prock band!

MOO: My fave songs on your discs are always the audio-experimenia ones, like "Dandy's Speeding," "Introducing the Band" or "Moving" ...

Simon: That's one of the first tunes we ever recorded! We don't play it live anymore -- the drum bit's too fast for me nowadays.

MOO: Well, those types of songs really seem to distance you from the more plebeian, predictable, 90s-modrock types of bands. Are those kinds of songs written with that type of production in mind?

Simon: Well, "Introducing the Band" certainly was -- it was one of the last tracks we recorded for Dog Man Star, and after we heard it, we just thought, "What was that?" But it was intentional to make it a bit weird.

MOO: Did Brian Eno approach the band about doing an incredibly long version of the tune ...

Simon: That incredibly long, incredibly boring version? No, we approached him for some bizarre reason, I don't know why. I'm not criticizing the bloke -- he does amazing work, but at the end of the day, all we were left with was the reverb; he took everything else out but the echo ... I was expecting a little bit more of the original version -- I bet there's not one person in the fucking country who's played the whole thing all the way through. I know I haven't!

MOO: Yuk yuk. Your former guitarist and co-songwriter Bernard Butler ...

Simon: Bernard Buttocks!

MOO: ... exited Suede after recording Dog Man Star and has been replaced by the very young Richard Oakes. What, is he 19 now?

Simon: No, he's actually 20 now and getting up in the double digits!

MOO: This is the first disc he's done with Suede. Was he up to the task?

Simon: More so than we'd ever expected, to be honest. We did a few demos before the album and after three or four, it was just no problem with him at all. Easy peasey! For someone so young and so inexperienced, I don't know how he did it, but he did.

MOO: Did you just say "easy peasey"? Never mind, what about this new keyboardist? Some cynics say that when a guitar band takes on a keyboardist, the band's death knell has begun, and now your own cousin, Neil Codling, is an official Suedester. "Codling," what a great last name.

Simon: Yeah, Codling, like in "molly codling." Have you heard that expression?

MOO: Yes, I studied English literature, with a minor in advanced cybernetic design.

Simon: Hmmnn. But about those cynics, they're wrong, at least in Suede's case -- Neil has done nothing but improve upon what we can do and the limits we can reach on our albums. Also, live, our sound is so much fuller. And we can still fuckin' rock out as well. Now, if we got a brass section, that might kill a band.

MOO: I've heard that Bowie is a fan? Has the band had any dealings with him as of yet?

Simon: Yes, he is. Um, we played with him last summer, in Spain, in the Pyrenees Mountains. He requested we play and we opened for him and he watched the whole gig from the sidestage, which was a bit nerve-racking. But yes, he's a big fan and he's fifty years old now.

MOO: Rockstar, painter, actor and Suede fan ... What more can you ask?

Simon: Not very much!

MOO: Speaking of playing live, you guys toured America for Dog Man Star -- how would you say a US audience compares to a British crowd?

Simon: Well, it really depends. I couldn't really generalize that much, because in L.A. or someplace like San Francisco, they're probably wilder than a British audience, but then you look at some place in Texas ... they sort of spit on us, they don't really like us there. It's a bit different in America, but there are some parts of it where it feels like you could be in London.

MOO: So, I take it while you're almost worshipped in Britain, America really hasn't caught on yet?

Simon: Hasn't caught on yet ... we're not saying we're giving up on it at all, but we're just playing it by ear. I believe that's the expression for it. We're gonna come over and do 10 dates and see how the album is received, but there's no real point in banging your head against a brick wall. If America on the whole doesn't get it, then fair enough, but I really hope they do, cuz it's a great album, a lot more America-friendly as well.

MOO: I've read Brett describe the band as being "political." I know Suede had been involved in the animal rights movement, and gay rights, and freedom issues. Do you find American music to be more or less politically-motivated on the whole than British stuff?

Simon: Well, I'd say that quote was probably taken out of context ... We're a political band in a human sense, not in a government politics kind of way. Yeah, we'll stand up in the House of Parliament and say, "This is wrong and blah blah blah," and we'll protest like that, but in the songs, there's no political manifesto of any kind -- it's purely human "politics" in our music. As for American bands, I really can't say ... I'm very stuck in the 60s and 70s in terms of music, and I don't really ask myself if this or that band is American or British, but rather, are they good or bad bands?

MOO: There's been a bit of a buzz in the US over the Brit-pop scene -- particularly Oasis and Blur. Where does Suede seem to fit into that whole genre, anyway?

Simon: Blur? They're shitty. Oasis is actually pretty good. Suede doesn't really fit into that scene at all; it was lucky we were away when it sort of kicked-off, and luckily we weren't lumped into that whole thing, cuz now the scene is dead, there's no such thing as Brit-pop anymore in England, and when a scene dies off, all the bands die off with it. So America, don't bother with it. It's really just the media sticking another tag on some scene -- it's useless crap, really.

MOO: Okay, how about the whole androgyny/bisexuality slant of a lot of Suede's songs -- if it's not just image-mongering to get attention ...

Simon: No, it's not.

MOO: So, why is Suede so revelatory about their sexual preferences?

Simon: Because the people we hang around with ... we hang around with each other, we're all friends, and the other people who come from lots of different areas of society, and at the end of the day everyone's aware of sexuality and the different types of sexuality, and consequently Brett writes about the people we hang around with and the way we live. It's just about being open and honest, really.

MOO: Right -- skinstorms together and all that.

Simon: Exactly; singing about things that other people don't sing about -- we don't sing about birds and flowers and the sky and things like that.

MOO: Speaking about singing -- there's lots of stories and rumors about your Brett Anderson. He seems like a real character.

Simon: All the stories are probably true!

MOO: Considering he'll probably never see this interview, what do you have to say about Mr. Anderson?

Simon: About Mr. Anderson? He's become one of my best friends; he's perceived as being aloof and stuff like that, but at the end of the day, he's one of the most genuine people I know. He's a lovely bloke, that's my honest opinion, and make sure he doesn't see that or I'll become really embarrassed.

MOO: Last question. Before '92, critics and clubs seemed to hate you. Then, you end up on the cover of Melody Maker, your disc goes to number one and beats out Depeche Mode, and you're big-time rock stars. What happened?

Simon: Well, that Melody Maker cover did help, let's be honest.

MOO: The power of the press!

Simon: Yeah. But even before that ... I don't know what happened. We played at this place called the Falcon in Camden, which is a famous sort of indie hangout. We played there one weekend to, like, eight people. Then the next weekend we played there again and the place was packed. All these stars came down there, people like Morrissey, and things just started to happen. I really don't know what happened -- I think people really got bored with the scene at the time, there was a lot of techno and shoegazey stuff going on and the indie scene was boring. We kind of laid that stuff to rest when we got going. There were people who I think were bored with not seeing real entertainers up on stage, and we were a band that was entertaining, which might have been why people didn't like us at the time -- they were so used to seeing the shoegazing stuff going on.

MOO: Yeah, let's look at our sneakers for an hour and play guitars!

Simon: Right, how entertaining is that? Might as well just sit at home and listen to their records.

MOO: And the rest is history, as they say.

Simon: Yeah, something like that.

You love me?

Richie Tozier x (M) Reader

Requested by: @roygbivvie

Warnings: Langauge

“Are you nervous?”

“Always”

“Oh come on babe. I’m just meeting your friends. This isn’t one of your shows”

“I know I know. I just want them to like you as much as I do” Richie smiles wrapping his arms around Y/N’s waist as he laughs a bit to himself before kissing him lovingly.

After a short drive to the Denbrough residency, Richie found himself sitting in the car for a while as Y/N stayed with him the entire time. He enjoys the moments Richie has when he talks about his friends because he considers them family and he’s proud of them. They mean the world to Richie, so of course Y/N is nervous but there’s something else coursing one Richie’s head that he can’t quite pin.

Meeting his friends

Is like meeting his parents

Well to him—

Fuck.

Shit. How am I gonna tell him

Wait no

Shit—

That can wait till after introducing him to your friends

Fuck but

No! I want to be alone to tell him

Richie snaps out of it when Y/N put the car in park before taking the keys out so he’d stop running the battery.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, are you?”

“Yeah” Y/N laughs a bit leaning in kissing Richie’s cheek before getting out of the car.

As they walk up to the door, Richie instantly wrapped his arm around Y/N’s waist startling him slightly. He smiles easing into it as he rings the doorbell. Richie frowns feeling Y/N tense up a bit when the dork opens revealing a very happy Beverly.

“Honestly thought Bill would answer the door to his own home” Richie laughs as Bev pulls him into a hug making Y/N step back a bit.

“You must be Y/N” Bev smiles parting from Richie. “Richie talks about you all the time, but your reviews also say a lot”

Living in LA, as a critic? Is shit sometimes. Y/N laughs a bit to himself even more anxious than before but he was reviewed her work. He enjoys it. It’s original. But what a weird way of pointing him out seconds of meeting him.

“Yeah, what can I say? A lot” Y/N smiles watching Bev laugh a bit before letting them both in.

Y/N walks into the main room before freezing to the extremely tall men in front of him.

“Shit—Is everyone taller than me?”

“You’re taller than me, love” Bev smiles resting a hand on Y/N shoulder. The nicknames. Hm. “You’re also taller than Bill. So, in the middle when around all of us”

“Ah. Great. Um I’m Y/N” Y/N smiles holding his hand out to Mike as he happily took it.

“Mike, it’s great to finally meet the man Richie’s been keeping away from us” Mike laughs a bit with the losers as Richie rubs the back of his neck. “So how’d you meet Richie?”

“Hey don’t ask those questions without me here. I wanna know too” Bill enters the room they’re all in and instantly recognizes Y/N. “You were that guy that won trivia night, what like nine months ago?”

“Yep. Where Richie met me. A bar” Y/N laughs a bit to himself feeling anxious. “I still beat your asses though.” the ten second confidence kicked in.

“If Eddie was around, he probably would’ve beaten you in trivia” Ben adds watching Richie give him a defeated look when Y/N looked perfectly fine.

Eddie Mentioned Counter: 1

“So what’s your poison?” Bev asks stealing Y/N from Richie going to get themselves some drinks.

Mike wraps his arm around Richie smiling. “He’s a catch huh?”

“Yeah, yeah he is” Richie smiles settling in with the rest of the guys as the two hung out in the kitchen.

“So. What are you having?”

“You got tequila?”

“I bet Bill has some somewhere” Bev states as she moves a stool over to reach the cabinets. “When we Uh...had a reunion. Everybody was doing tequila shots. Or was it vodka? I don’t know. But Eddie wouldn’t stop staring at Richie when he was doing’em”

2

“Are you talking about the time you went back to Derry or wherever your hometown is?”

“Did Richie Tell you?” Bev asks as she climbs down handing Y/N the bottle.

“Yeah, after like five months. He thought I wouldn’t take it seriously-“

“I would be surprised if you did. Heavy shit happened those few days”

“Yeah...I’m sorry about your losses by the way. I’ve been told how much...Eddie and the other guy...Stan? How much they meant to you guys” Y/N frowns setting the bottle down on the counter.

3

“Did he...tell you everything? With Eddie?”

4

“Uh-“

“Hey what’s taking you two so long?” Ben smiles. “Bev, can’t hog the boyfriend from the rest of us”

Y/N slips through while taking the bottle with him. He stops to look at the two embrace one another. His heart started pounding in his ears making him bump into the wall on the way to the living room.

“Shit-“ Y/N frowns pinching the bridge of his nose as Richie got up quickly from his seat going to check up on Y/N.

“Are you okay?” Richie frowns resting his hand on his cheek watching Y/N light up at the touch.

“Hm” Mike watches the two getting a confused look from Bill.

“What?”

“Nothing” He shrugs getting up and taking the bottle from Y/N. “I’ll go get some shot glasses, make yourself at home”

Y/N grabbed onto Richie’s jacket indicating something but Richie wasn’t catching on that he only did it because he was getting anxious. Richie wrapped his arms around Y/N feeling him squeeze him.

A couple shots later...

“You critiqued all my books? Where the fuck were you during book tours?”

“Publishing my articles my good sir” Y/N laughs setting down the empty glass.

“Want another?” Bev smiles sliding the bottle as Y/N refused. “Aww come on. Live a little”

“I’m good” Y/N laughs feeling Richie rest his head against his shoulder after having a few shots himself. “Are you?”

“Hm? Yes. Dandy” Richie smiles straightening up and bringing Y/N close to his person.

“I’m definitely...calling an Uber”

“So responsible. How in hell did Richie catch a catch like you?”

“Well it’s definitely not for the jokes” Y/N jokes catching a gasp from Richie before laughing with him and sneaking in a kiss.

“Sounds like Eddie”

5

Richie and Y/N tense up a bit from that as Richie pulls away from Y/N seeing his confused expression before smiling nervously. Y/N got up to take a minute as Richie looks at his losers confused on where they were getting at.

“You really think it’s appropriate?”

“What? We can talk about Eddie-“

“But with every thing he does?”

“Well Richie you so have a type hun”

“Oh my god” Richie gets up from the couch about to get Y/N to leave.

“Richie, I know what happened happened some time ago but you loved Eddie. You were very expressive of it and we were just worried that you’d forget or something-“

“Okay—No. I would never forget Eddie. But if he knew how I felt, hell even if he didn’t, he would’ve wanted me to move on. And I did! I fell in love with a guy who is willing to take all of my baggage. He lets me talk about it without turning away! He doesn’t think I’m weird in a bad way. He...” Richie frowns looking at his losers. “I may not know...if he loves me. But I love him. FUCK—I love Y/N. He makes everyday WORTH IT. I love him and I was nervous all fucking night that my friends wouldn’t like him. Shit. I’m nervous right now because I confessed my love for him to my friends? Y’know. That’s history repeating itself and I’m not going to have it” Richie turned around immediately running into Y/N who heard everything he said.

“You love me?”

Richie felt all his anxiety build up more than before as he brought his head down. His four losers were silently watching the two have a moment. Y/N smiles resting his index under his chin lifting it to make him look at him.

“Richie...”

“I mean...do you want me to repeat it? I kinda did already just not to your face”

“Nervous, baby?” Y/N smiles instantly being pulled into Richie’s embrace catching a laugh from Y/N and a few squeaks and gasps from the peanut gallery.

“Nervous in a good way sexy” Richie smirks making everyone laugh a bit at that but Y/N felt his face heat up.

“I love you too Richie Tozier” Y/N whispers in his ear making him instantly pick him up throwing him over his shoulder.

“Where are you going?” Bill asks catching Richie turn around while Y/N rests over his shoulder.

“I love this man and I don’t think the losers want to see me show him how much I love him in THAT way” Richie teases getting smacked in the back by a very angry but flustered Y/N.

Poems and Mistletoe

Pairing - Ben Hanscom x reader

Word Count - 3,343

A/N - so I feel like there is never enough of all the Losers out there so I’ve decided I’m going to try and write a piece for some of the Losers who don’t get as much love starting with Ben! I really loved this idea and I hope you guys enjoy it as much as me because Ben really deserves more love!

Prompt - Ben Hanscom has liked Y/N L/N since they met on his first day of school. It being the Christmas season and all, Ben finally decides to admit his feelings towards the girl in the form of a poem. It just is a matter of getting the poem to her that was the problem.

The day Ben Hanscom met Y/N L/N was the day that Ben knew he was a goner. It had been his first day at a new school, having only just moved to Derry a couple of days before, and he had been introduced to his tour guide Y/N by the principal.

Ben swore he had never seen someone as beautiful as the girl that had stood before him. Her h/c hair fell down to just below her shoulders, her e/c eyes so mesmerizing that Ben could do nothing more than gawk, and her smile—oh her smile was unlike anything Ben had ever seen.

It was the kind of smile that brought butterflies to his stomach and made his cheeks heat up. It was the kind of smile that made him feel like his heart was bursting with pure joy although he had been in a bad mood ever since he moved there. He knew then and there that he would never get tired of that smile.

Y/N had been a great tour guide and Ben remembered staring at her in admiration as she greeted so many different people as they walked down the hallway. He had no clue, but the four boys she had smiled and shared hugs with would end up being his best friends by the end of the following summer.

In that moment though, no one else seemed to matter and somehow along the way Ben mustered up enough courage to talk to the girl. And boy, when she sent him that smile of hers in his direction, he knew he was done for.

From that day on, a friendship flourished between the two, Y/N being the boy's only friend up until the summer had began. Then came the dreaded summer of 1989 and something about fighting a demonic clown and barely escaping with their lives and brought the two even closer together with both each other and their other friends—Stan, Mike, Bill, Eddie, Richie, and Beverly.

Ben still remembered the events that had taken place that summer, something that would never be able to leave him and that lived on in his nightmares. He had never been so scared in his life, but the worst of it had been when he saw Y/N floating in the air, having been caught in the dead lights by It and not showing any signs of breathing.

Ben shuddered slightly at the thought before quickly shaking his head. Now wasn't the time to be thinking about things like that, especially not when he was desperately trying to finish the poem he was writing. It had to be done in the next five minutes or he wouldn't be able to give it to Y/N in time.

Ever since the summer, Ben had realized that his feelings for Y/N were a more serious than he had thought. What had started off as a crush had turned into what he could only describe as love. But Ben had no idea how to tell her, afraid of what he might hear if he did.

So that was where the poem came into play. It was a way for Ben to express his feelings without coming out and saying them, that way, if Y/N didn't seem to notice just what the poem meant, then it wouldn't hurt him in the end. The only problem was getting the poem to her.

The Losers were having a Christmas party at Y/N's house and had decided to have a Secret Santa. They had each drawn names and Ben had been secretly hoping he would get the girl that was always on his mind, but he had ended up getting Stan much to his dismay.

However, Ben hadn't let that stop him and was planning on giving Y/N the gift in private, that way the other Losers weren't at all offended by not getting a gift and he wouldn't have to hear a bunch of crap from Richie about the poem.

It took Ben the whole entirety of the five minutes to finish the poem before he was rushing out the door with Stan's gift in his hand and the poem for Y/N in his pocket. Riding his bike with the present in his lap was quite difficult, but Ben didn't want to have to have his parents drop him off so he just sucked it up in the end.

Luckily Y/N's house wasn't too far from his own, so Ben was there in only a couple of minutes. He could already see some bikes laying on the ground outside, so Ben ditched his beside the others before taking in a deep breath and walking up to the door.

He was just about to knock on the door when it opened up to reveal Y/N who was laughing and beginning to walk outside. She jumped slightly in surprise at the sight of him before smiling widely. “Oh, hello, Ben. I was just about to check and see if I could see any of you coming down the street,” Y/N said happily.

“H-Hi, Y/N,” Ben muttered, his cheeks growing a bit red as he stared at the girl in awe. She was standing there with a white sweater, black jeans, and her hair in a messy braid. Ben swore his heart swooned at the sight of her.

Y/N smiled at the boy and titled her head before pointing behind her. “You want to come in? We’re just waiting on Richie to show up and then we were thinking about exchanging gifts and watching a Christmas movie,” she said.

Ben nodded weakly and Y/N’s smile widened before she turned to walk inside. The boy could feel the poem burning in his pocket and gulped slightly before going to reach for it. “Uh. . .actually, Y/N-“ Ben began, but he fell silent when the girl turned back to look at him, her e/c eyes staring at him making him forget what he was about to say.

“Ben?” she questioned and that seemed to snap the boy out his thoughts. Ben stuck his hand into his pocket and had just grabbed ahold of the poem when a voice exclaimed from behind them, “Look at you two, standing out here in the cold when the warmth of a house is literally right there. Fucking losers.”

Y/N chuckled softly and rolled her eyes to look behind Ben where Richie was standing. “Says the boy who is also standing out in the cold. So fuck off,” Y/N joked, earning a laugh from Richie while Ben just sighed and took his empty hand out of his pocket.

“Nice one,” Richie smirked before nodding towards the door. “So we allowed to go in or are we all just going to continue standing around like a bunch of dumbasses?”

Y/N chuckled and opened the door for the boy. “Thanks,” Richie said, smiling softly at the girl before ruffling her hair and walking inside. Ben was about to follow behind him, but a hand on his arm stopped him.

The boy looked to his right to see Y/N looking at him curiously and almost hopefully? “You were going to tell me something,” Y/N pointed out.

“Oh. . .um. . .it can wait,” Ben assured her.

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows, her smile falling slightly as she asked, “Are you sure?”

If Ben didn’t know any better, it almost seemed as if Y/N wanted to stay out there with him. But he was only kidding himself. Why would Y/N want to be alone with him?

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Ben told her, giving the girl a tight lipped smile in response.

Y/N stared at him in silence for a minute before nodding. “Okay then. Let’s go inside and do the gift exchange!” Y/N exclaimed as she grabbed the boy’s arm and quickly drug him inside.

Before Ben knew it, Y/N was pulling him into the living room where the other Losers were all conversing, Richie having already situated himself between Eddie and Stan on one couch while Mike, Bill, and Beverly sat on another.

“Ben!” Beverly greeted, a bright smile on her face before the other Losers quickly greeted the boy as well.

“Hey, guys. Sorry I’m a little late,” Ben told them, but Bill waved his apology away.

“It’s f-f-fine, Ben. No n-n-need to apologize,” Bill assured him.

Y/N smiled and sat down on the ground before patting the spot next to her for Ben. “Come on then. Let’s get this started shall we?” she asked. “I’ll go first.” She then reached under her Christmas tree and pulled out a small bag before turning to Ben and holding the bag out to him. “I had Ben.”

Ben’s eyes widened in surprise and he set Stan’s gift down in front of him before gently taking the gift from Y/N. Shyly, the boy took the tissue paper out before he pulled out the gift inside. He smiled brightly at the sight of an architecture book, architecture being something that he had grown an interest for over the past couple of months.

“Wow, Y/N,” Ben whispered in disbelief as he ran a hand over the book.

“That’s not all. Open the card,” Y/N said excitedly as she grabbed the boy’s arm and shook it gently.

Ben gave her confused and amused look before pulling the small card out of the bag. He pulled the card out of the envelope and chuckled softly at the cheesy Christmas card before opening it, his eyes widening at the sight of two slips of paper on the inside.

“You’re joking,” Ben muttered in disbelief, his eyes flickering over to the girl in surprise. “Y/N!”

The girl just shrugged and the Losers all tried to crane their neck to see what was inside, but Ben was quick to hide it, not wanting the others to see it. Only Y/N and Beverly were the ones that knew about his obsession with New Kids on the Block and he was not about to let the boys see the two concert tickets Y/N had gotten him for the New Kids on the Block concert that would be coming in town in a couple of months.

“I got two so you could enjoy it with someone else,” Y/N whispered so that the others wouldn’t hear. Ben looked to her with a goofy smile, already knowing he wouldn’t want to go to the concert with anyone other than the girl in front of him.

“Thank you,” Ben whispered, still in shock.

Y/N smiled and reached out to hug the boy before saying, “Merry Christmas, Ben.”

Ben didn’t have time to say anything else before the others began to exchange their gifts. Ben didn’t even notice the other gifts, his attention still on the book and concert tickets which he couldn’t believe the girl had gotten him.

He finally managed to pull his attention away long enough to watch Y/N open her gift from Richie, the boy having gotten her the Bruce Springsteen record Born in the U.S.A. and a framed picture of the two of them from when they were toddlers, Stan, Richie, and Bill hugging the two from behind while the young Richie and Y/N laughed at each other.

Ben couldn’t stop himself from smiling at the look of pure happiness that had dawned the girl’s face, Y/N instantly going over and hugging Richie tightly while the boy tried to act like it was no big deal.

When everyone was finally done opening gifts, the Losers all crowded onto the couches and began to argue over which Christmas movie they should watch.

“A Christmas Story!” Richie exclaimed as he squirmed between Eddie and Stan, trying to get comfortable.

“What the fuck? No way! We’re watching A Christmas Vacation,” Eddie argued as he shoved the boy back. “Quit shoving!”

“I say we watch A Christmas Carol,” Stan suggested.

“No!” Eddie and Richie both exclaimed automatically while Stan pouted.

Y/N chuckled and shook her head at her friends before standing up and wiping her hands on her pants. “Well, I’ll leave you guys to figure out which movie we watch while I make some popcorn,” Y/N said before walking off, not noticing the way Ben’s eyes followed her figure out of the room before he reached into his pocket and pulled out the piece of paper.

“I’m going to go see if Y/N needs help,” Ben announced quickly before rushing out of the room, the others not noticing because they were currently trying to stop Eddie and Richie from shoving each other.

It was like Ben could hear his heartbeat and his own breathing in his ears, the realization that he was about to be alone with Y/N and give her the poem he had made for her making him grow nervous.

He made it to the kitchen in time to see Y/N putting a bag of popcorn in the microwave, the girl turning around upon hearing footsteps and smiling at the sight of Ben. “Oh, hey! Did you need something?” Y/N asked sweetly. “A drink maybe? Or some food?”

“Oh, no. No. I’m good,” Ben assured her. “I just. . .” He took a deep breath. Here is goes. “I wanted to give you something.”

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows and watched as Ben shyly walked over to her before holding it his hand that was holding the piece of paper. She smiled slightly at him, a curious gleam in her eyes as she gently took the paper from him.

Ben was quick to look at his feet as he heard the crumbling of the paper as she opened it up. Y/N stared at the paper for a moment before it dawned on her that it was a poem, that Ben had written a poem for her. Ben cringed as he heard the girl softly whisper out the words on the paper, suddenly realizing just how awful it sounded.

Before long, she had finished reading the poem and a silence had fallen along the two. Ben squeezed his eyes shut, the fear of rejection washing over him. But then he felt something soft on his cheek and his eyes opened up in surprise as he saw that Y/N had kissed his cheek.

His whole face went red as the girl pulled away, a bright smile on her face as she looked at Ben with an unreadable expression. “Thank you, Ben,” she whispered as she held the paper close to her heart. “I love it.”

Ben gawked at her for a second before nervously scratching his neck and saying in a low voice, “I just. . .I wanted to give you something for Christmas. I was actually hoping you would be my Secret Santa, but I knew either way I still wanted to give you something. Sorry it’s not anything expensive. I don’t really have the money.”

Y/N smiled warmly and quickly shook her head. “I didn’t care about the money. This is probably the best gift anyone has ever given me, Ben. It was thoughtful and from the heart and I couldn’t ask for anything better,” she assured him, her words making Ben smile slightly.

He let his eyes flicker up to meet her eyes and the two stared at each other in silence for a minute before Y/N whispered, “I have feelings for you too, you know.”

Ben blinked in surprise, silently wondering if what he had heard was right and if Y/N had actually been able to pick up on the hidden message in his poem. But then he seemed to realize just what she had said and his eyes widened.

“You. . .you do?” he asked, Y/N nodding in response. Ben didn’t know what to do as he looked at the girl, his eyes wide while his mouth fell open slightly hit let agape.

It was Y/N who broke the silence with a small chuckle before she went to grab the finished popcorn. She returned a minute later and held out her empty hand to him. Ben blinked and looked to her hand before looking back up at her face. Y/N just smiled warmly at him, “Come on. They’re going to wonder where we’ve been.”

Ben could merely nod in response as he hesitantly reached out and reached for Y/N’s hand, the girl intertwining their fingers together almost instantly while Ben continued to look at her in awe, his face growing redder by the second.

Y/N gently tugged him along and out of the kitchen, but Ben failed to notice that they had gone out a different way than they had entered until Y/N stopped just below a doorway.

Ben furrowed his eyebrows and went to question the girl encore he noticed she was staring above them with a smile on her face. The boy slowly let his gaze flicker up and his face instantly reddened at the sight of the mistletoe above them.

His eyes flickered back down to Y/N with wide eyes and she chuckled before beginning to lean forward, her face pausing inches away from the boy. Her breath mingled with his own and she seemed to crowd all of his senses. She hesitated there, waiting to see if Ben would pull away, but when he didn’t, Y/N leaned forward the extra couple of inches before her lips brushed against his own.

Ben had never felt anything like he did in that moment. For kissing Y/N under the mistletoe was something he had never expected to happen and all he could feel was pure bliss and euphoria in that moment. It was like his heart was bursting with joy and love while his hand that was holding onto Y/N’s shook nervously.

He didn’t even know if he was doing any of this right, Y/N being both his first kiss and the only girl to have ever liked him.

Her lips were soft and for a moment it felt like Ben was on cloud nine. But then she was pulling away and Ben had to remind himself to breath before he managed to open his eyes once again.

He was still face to face with Y/N, their noses brushing against each other as they stood there red faced. Y/N had never looked more beautiful than in the moment with a light blush dusting her cheeks and her eyes glistening with happiness.

Ben couldn’t even comprehend what had just happened, the reality of having finally kissed Y/N being enough to make him speechless. But then she was giving him that damn smile of hers, only this time he knew that it was out of love.

He would never get tired of that smile.

Y/N finally pulled away from the boy and Ben swore it looked like she was glowing. How he had managed to get someone like her to have feelings for someone like him was beyond his imagination and he knew he couldn’t have been luckier.

She gently let go of his hand and smiled in his direction one more time before disappearing from the doorway and into the living room to join their friends for the movie. That left Ben standing there in the doorway, the young boy still trying to comprehend what had just happened.

Finally, it all seemed to hit him and Ben couldn’t stop himself from grinning widely and touching his lips before whispering to himself, “Holy shit.”

It took him a couple of seconds before finally managed to move his feet once again, his legs carrying him to the living room where he would end up sitting beside Y/N and holding her hand as the Losers all watched a Christmas movie.

Ben had never been happier.

* * *

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Group 3

(Story Post)

The first week with the twins felt like a disaster. Thankfully, Nathan wasn't alone. Dax went back to class on Tuesday but he made himself available all of his free time and spent his nights in the hospital ward with Nathan. Sydryn, not having the ability to be everywhere at once, switched Köbi off of Gardi duty and over to werewolf duty, with Aoife taking over watching Reid. The dragon figured the angel was the least likely to get injured should anyone get bitey. The hardest part of taking care of them was their constant seemingly sporadic shape changing. While Nathan was trapped in a moon cycle, they changed at random, making it very difficult for him to keep track of what the routine he was supposed to be establishing for them. At night, when he was the wolf, he couldn't care for them properly when they stayed human and Dax was the only one who could get up to soothe them as they cried at night, needing changes, wanting attention, being hungry. There were nurses on night shift around to offer advice, but wolf Nathan wouldn't let them anywhere near the twins, leaving all the work to Dax. When they did turn to animals though, Nathan curled up with them, trying to get them to sleep, nursing them into food comas while he rested. By Friday, no one had slept properly, but they had survived. By the evening, Nathan had the twins asleep, and Köbi was there helping change the dressing on his c-section cut. Dax texted him to let him know he’d be a little late, as he was going to go out to get them food. Nathan’s wolf cycle had just ended that day so he looked forward to being in more control that night. Once Köbi was done, there was a knock on the door and Nathan said he could let them in. While he was expecting Dax, he was surprised to see Camilo coming in. Thankfully, Nathan had his shirt back on by then and felt decent enough for guests.

“Hey, Nathan,” Camilo said, walking over. “How've you been today?” “Oh, you know… Tired,” Nathan admitted. “And you?” “Same, but I'm sure it doesn't measure up,” Camilo said, rubbing his neck. “So, we started our group session about an hour ago, but the guys wanted to come up and visit you. You know, congratulations and everything. I wanted to ask you first to make sure that's okay.” “Yeah, thanks. Um, yeah, okay…” Nathan looked around. “It's not a big room, but it could work.” “Awesome. I see the twins are asleep so we'll try to be real quiet,” Camilo said before heading back out. A moment later, the group members were all coming in, sliding around the sides of the bed and making room for each other. Each one greeted and congratulated him as they got in and Dari was carrying a gift basket for him. Even new boy Jeffrey was there with his kid. “So, everyone, as you heard, Nathan delivered the twins on Monday,” Camilo said. “They're absolutely precious, aren't they Nathan?” “They are,” Nathan said, putting his hand into the bassinet beside the bed to rub Grace's cheek as she slept. “I still can't believe they're real…” “You can believe it. You're a father now,” Dari said. “Life's going to be completely different.” “Yeah…” “Can I hold them?” Dari asked. Fay nudged his arm. “Dari, they're asleep.” “Right, sorry…” “You can hold Ben,” Jeffrey said passing over the baby. “Thank you, Jeffrey,” Dari said taking the child. “Hi, Benny baby boy…” “Thank you guys for coming to visit me,” Nathan said. “I probably wouldn’t have even remembered it was Friday if you weren’t here…” “That's alright, I'm sure you've been working really hard getting into the care of your little ones,” Fay said. “Twins can't be easy.” “Well, you'll see soon too, and I can't imagine it'll be easy with other kids to take care of too,” Nathan said. “I'm pretty excited,” Dari said, rubbing his stomach. “Wish I could meet them sooner…” “Maybe they can be friends with Grace and Gabriel,” Fay suggested. “Twin friends.” “Yeah, maybe,” Nathan agreed, though he wasn’t sure how safe it would be for his were-beast children to play with other kids. “Yori, um, your kids can change form when they want, right?” “Yes, of course,” Yori said. He rubbed his stomach. “This one won’t though…” “How did you manage it?”  Nathan said. Yori shrugged. “I did it with them most of the time.” “Right, you have that…” Nathan said. “Still, triplets is a lot.” “Three kids, three dads,” Yori said. “Oh, right…” Nathan rubbed his arm. “The extra help I'm sure is great.” “You have extra help too,” Camilo said. “You have this group.” “Yeah, I know, I know…” “You have a boyfriend now too, right?” Yori said. “Two kids, two dads.” “Oh, you know about that too, huh?” “Of course,” Yori said. “I set you up.” Nathan blinked. “What?” “You know, when we met at the teacher meeting thing before the beginning of school, I invited you and Dax to my home,” Yori recalled. “You seem good for each other.” Nathan blushed. “Um, well… Thanks, I guess?” “Quite the match maker, aren't you?” Fay commended Yori. “Now find Jeffrey a new boyfriend,” Dari requested. “Hey, you wish you had what Bler and I have,” Jeffrey defended. “…” Dari looked at Fay and smirked. “I think I'm good.” Jeffrey huffed in annoyance, but Camilo rubbed his shoulder. “We're not going to get into that right now.” “Oh, where's Marcita?” Nathan asked, realising they were short a member. “She has a meeting with a client tonight,” Camilo said. “She'll be back next week.” “I think she mentioned having twins before and I wanted to know what the recovery was like for her,” Nathan said. “I can get her to visit as soon as she has the chance,” Camilo said. “She'll tell you everything she knows.” “I appreciate it,” Nathan said. He hadn't seen Sydryn yet that day, but the doctor took that time to come to check on him. Syd wrinkled their nose at the crowded recovery room and just walked around them to Nathan's bedside. “Quite a few visitors you have…” “It's our pregnancy group,” Nathan said. “Camilo started it himself. We meet Fridays.” “Oh, I heard about that…” Sydryn sighed. “I commend you for your leadership skills, Camilo.” “It's not that big a deal, but thank you, Syd,” Camilo said. “The group mostly grew word of mouth. I just had to pick the spot and time.” “Community is key for your species'…” Sydryn said. “Although I'm surprised you joined, Yori. While I assume this means you've conceived again, I can't imagine you gain much considering the ease of your reproductive abilities.” “I've learned a lot actually,” Yori said. “And this pregnancy is different for me.” “Yori's actually been a very active member,” Camilo said. “You'd be surprised that even a spirit like him can have pregnancy concerns, but he does. Maybe…you'd like to join us sometime?” “Me?” Sydryn narrowed their eyes. “Why would I join a pregnancy group?” “Well, uh… It could help to have a doctor around,” Camilo suggested. “I think not. If any of you have medical concerns, you can make appointments to see me directly,” Sydryn stated. “With my replacement out of commission and more and more of you pumping out spawn, my work is very much more pressing than any group…” “Okay, okay…” Camilo sighed. “But just know we’re here.” “Obviously.” Dax got back with dinner for himself and Nathan and was a little surprised to find so many people in the room. “Hey! Um, is this the, uh…” He looked between them, noticing Camilo and Dari's shape. “Is this the group you go to?” “Yeah, this is my pregnancy group,” Nathan said. “And I don’t know if you've met Camilo, my case worker?” Camilo waved and offered his hand. “Hi! Dax, right?” “Yes, that's me,” Dax said, shaking his hand. “And obviously I know Yori…” Yori grinned. “We are Dari and Fay Demers,” Fay said shaking Dax's hand as well. “I also work as a case worker here, and I believe we met when I toured the school.” “That's right. Nice meeting you again,” Dax said. He turned to Jeffrey. “And you are…?” “You can call me Jeffrey,” the youngest said, offering a fist bump. “Dari has my son Ben over there.” “Oh, that's your kid?” Dax said, looking between Ben and Jeffrey. “…Wait, Jeffrey Matthews?” Jeffrey blinked. “…Mr Olivier?” “Yes, that's right!” Dax said. “Wow, you haven’t changed a bit.” “Ugh, yeah…” Jeffrey rubbed the back of neck. “Puberty barely did shit for me…” “You taught him?” Nathan asked. “Yes, I was Jeffrey's 10th grade French teacher at my old school,” Dax said. “How long's that been?” “Um, math isn't my forte, but I'm 21 now, so…” Jeffrey took a moment. “What's that, four years?” “Five. But you're a father already?” Dax commented. The whole group sighed except Jeffrey who seemed very proud. “Yeah, Ben's the best thing that happened to me! I love him so much,” Jeffrey said. “Trust me, I wasn't doing much before he came into my life.” “…I believe you,” Dax said. “Isn't that funny though?” Jeffrey went on. “If you don't have any other kids, then I became a Dad before you and you're, what, twice my age?” Dax frowned. “I'm not that old. But yes, it is surprising, I guess… But no one's life happens at the same pace.” “True enough,” Jeffrey chuckled. “Nathan, I can't believe you're dating my old teacher. If teachers were our parents, you'd be my step dad.” “…Sometimes I feel like your dad…” Nathan mumbled, not loud enough for Jeffrey to hear. Dax smiled and rubbed Nathan's shoulder. “Looks like you have a very friendly and diverse support group.” “Yeah, they're all good people,” Nathan said. “But, as much as I love you guys, I really want to take advantage of my time with twins asleep at the same time, so I can catch some winks too.” “Right, of course, Nathan. We'll head out,” Camilo said. “Dari left you a gift basket we collected up on that chair over there. Open it when you get the chance. There's some useful stuff in there.” “I will. Thank you, guys, so much.” They all shuffled out and Dax smiled and gave Nathan a kiss on the forehead. “Sorry I didn't get back sooner but I got us some Freshii, and yes yours has a lot of meat in it. It's up to you if you want to sleep first or eat.” “Thank you, Dax,” Nathan said. “I'll eat. I just said that to get them to leave…” Dax started unpacking their dinner. “Oh? Not a good time?” “No, they're great. I just get upset when I'm reminded of how young that kid is…” “Right? That would be my fault though, sorry,” Dax said. “No, no. He was your student. Of course you'd remember him.” “Not gonna lie, while I'm uneasy about him being a father so young, I'm not too surprised,” Dax said. “Very good kid. Not the brightest.” “It's not my place to get into it, but his whole pregnancy story makes me mad…” Nathan said. “I think it's probably just because it's a bit like mine, but possibly worse…” “Oh no,” Dax sighed. “But he seems so happy.” “‘Seems’ is the right word. He might not be clever enough to realise he has it bad…” Nathan said. “But Fay's working with him now, so if he's any good, the kid should be better off.” “I hear Fay's the best,” Dax said. “When he's not sleeping with or marrying his patients.” “No. Dari's a patient?” “As far as I've heard.” “You're so nosy. I shouldn't know these things…” Nathan sighed. “But I think that would explain a lot about Dari…” “Really?” “I'm not gonna get into it. It's not my business.” “Alright, alright…” Dax handed Nathan his bowl and a fork. “Have the twins been good today?” “Relatively…” Nathan said. “I think I'm starting to get what kinda things make them want to switch forms… Like if I even try to put more than a diaper on them, or if there's meat around…” “Well that's good. Sounds like it's not random after all and they have some control,” Dax deduced. “I imagine they'll be able to learn when they want to switch when they're older.” “Yeah, like Yori's kids…” Nathan sighed. “I wish I could control it like that…” “Well, if your kids can do it, maybe you can,” Dax said. “They're born into it, but it's a learning curve for you.” “Maybe…” Nathan started eating his food. “This tastes great. Thank you.” “No problem. Anything for you.” Sydryn cleared their throat. “I came to make sure you're recovering well.” “Right. Syd, forgot you were there,” Nathan said. “I think I am.” “Has your dressing been changed today?” they asked. “Yeah, Köbi did is a little while ago.” “Good, so I can assume we haven't popped any stitches.” “Nope. They've stayed put.” “And your cycle ended so you should sleep better…” Syd went over by the twins. “Let me know when they're awake, I'll do a quick exam. I see they're both in human form now though which is ideal.” “Yes. They're going hours now in the same forms,” Nathan said. “They seem to like to be the same thing at the same time.” There was a knock on the door so Dax went to grab it. Pierce came in, mock saluting. “Hey guys, glad I caught you both,” he said. “I'm definitely not going anywhere,” Nathan muttered. “Right, yeah. Actually, I wanted Dax most, though I also wanted to see how you're doing your first week a parent,” Pierce said, smiling. “We're alright. Getting into it.” “Good, good. Congratulations again.” “You wanted me?” Dax asked. “Yes. So, we're well aware you've been here helping Nathan with the twins, so Ms Liu and I pulled some strings and we've got substitutes lined up for both of you now,” Pierce said. “Nathan, you don't have to worry about me covering your class and Dax, we're allowing you a short parental leave.” “Parental leave?” Dax's eyes widened. “But I'm not… I don't qualify.” “Technically neither does Nathan because of how short a time he’s been with the school, but we sorted it out for him and we've sorted it out for you,” Pierce said. “Of course, it's optional, but you don't have to come in Monday.” “Wow. Um…” Dax couldn't help grinning. “How long is it?” “Full 35 weeks for Nathan, 18 for you,” Pierce said. “That's all we could get from the board.” “That's four months,” Dax said. “That's a lot, are you sure?” “Well, do you want it?” Pierce asked. “Of course! Well, only if Nathan wants me to,” Dax hesitated. “I wouldn't want to use him just to get out of work.” “I need you. You're taking every day,” Nathan said. “Pierce, this is actually so great. I don't know what to say.” “Don't mention it. The kids are beautiful but we all understand they can be handfuls,” Pierce said. “Take the time you need to care and bond with your little ones.” “We will, thank you.” “No problem. You can thank Ms Liu mostly,” Pierce admitted. “Anyway, I'll leave you be. I'll email you specifics about the leaves, but it's paid so you don't need to worry about that.” “Right. Thanks again,” Dax said, shaking Pierce's hand. Pierce shook it back and patted Dax's arm. “Don't mention it. See ya.” Dax smiled and saw him out, before turning back to Nathan and beaming. “Isn't that amazing?” “It is,” Nathan agreed. “Again, we need to treat them to dinner when we're properly settled.” “Speaking of, you should be discharged Monday,” Sydryn stated. “Every test is coming back as expected so you're all in good health and now that the wolf cycle is over, we can trust your stitches won't be at risk.” “Oh, okay.” Nathan smiled. “I can finally go home?” “Precisely.” “Phenomenal. Monday night, I'm going to cook for us,” Dax promised. “The twins will get to sleep in their proper beds.” “I'll get to sleep in my proper bed,” Nathan stated. “Now I imagine in three weeks time, when you're back on wolf cycle, you'll be bringing the twins with you,” Sydryn assumed. “We'll have a bigger place ready for you like I promised.” “Thank you, Syd,” Nathan said. “It all seems too good to be true.” At that, Grace rolled over and started crying which got her brother to start crying too. Nathan sighed and chuckled a bit, picking them both up. “…Ah, there's the rub.” “Should I take one to the hall so they're not playing off each other?” Dax asked. “No, I think they're just hungry. It's been a bit…” Nathan pulled open his robe and got them positioned. He grabbed a blanket from beside him and draped it over them. “I want them to go right back to sleep after this… I really need a nap.” “Understandable…” Dax sat down on the edge of the bed with him. “I can do the next feeding if you'd like.” “Thanks… Yeah, I really need a nap,” Nathan said. “That's why I'm here, No worries.” Sydryn went to the door. “I'll come back a little later for the measurements. Rest well.” “Okay. Thanks, doc.” “Don't mention it.”

Peace Like A River Part 1

A Gwilym Lee x Reader Story

Summary: Reader is a stand up comic with a pretty dark past. She has a three new lights in her life: her daughter, Violet; her anonymous correspondent, Dear Friend; and Gwilym Lee. 

Word Count: 3.4K

Tag List: @psychosupernatural @someone-get-a-medic @bensrhapsody @deakyclicks If you’d like to be added, let me know!

A/N: Sorry this took so long! I had like the snippet of an idea for this and then needed more for a plot, but I think I’ve finally got it together lol. Hope y’all like it!

Part I here we go!!!

Grinning, you read over the letter once more from backstage. His words in that graceful, loopy handwriting warmed you from your heart to your toes. You sighed contentedly, stuffed the paper into your back pocket for luck, and waited for your cue.

“Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome to the stage, Y/N Y/L/N!” the host cried. 

You shook out the last of your nerves and walked out on the stage, waving and grinning at the huge crowd that stood and applauded for you. You had never done a show for an audience this large and it was both intimidating and exhilarating. 

“Thank you!” you said, as you waited for them to stop cheering. “Thank you. Thank you all for coming. Really, I appreciate it because whenever I have to go out and do things, I think about killing myself.”

A nervous titter went through the crowd and you smiled again.

“Seriously, I do. I’ll think about killing myself over nothing. Like, the other day, I was in the car on my way home from the store and my sister called me and asked me to stop by her place and help her and her husband move furniture. And I actually thought ‘If I crashed my car right now and died, I wouldn’t have to go move any fucking furniture.’”

They laughed.

“It’s crazy, I know, but I casually think about it any time I’m even minorly inconvenienced. But what stops me from doing it - like, my next line of thought - is something equally meaningless. Like, in that scenario with my sister, the thing that held me back was like, I thought ‘But fuck, Bohemian Rhapsody is coming out in like two months and I really wanna see that.’”

A couple cheers came through the laughter and you smiled.

“Oh, we got some Queen fans in here tonight?” you said. 

More cheers.

“Yeah, cheer, clap, fuck yeah!”

A swell of shouts and whistles went through the crowd and you joined them.

“Fuck yeah, y’all were raised right,” you said when it settled down. “Queen is a great band. Just four sexy dudes making banger after banger. They’re legitimately my favorite band. I’m not gonna lie, they really got me through some shit, but we’ll come back to my trauma later.”

You paused for a small bit of laughter.

“Now normally, I don’t like when comedians talk about Queen. And by that, I mean, I don’t like it when comedians talk about Freddie Mercury,” you said. “And it’s not for some pretentious reason like they’re not real fans or something. It’s literally just that when people joke about Freddie Mercury, they joke about the same two things - his teeth and his sexuality - two extremely fucking boring things to joke about.”

You took a sip of water.

“Not only are they boring, they’re just rude. Like, these are things this man was born with and couldn’t change about himself - he had no control over that. What he did have control over - the fucking ridiculous lyrics of Under Pressure.”

A giggle went through them. You smiled.

“I’m serious. Have any of you ever looked up the lyrics to that song? Most of it doesn’t really bother me, it’s just those weird scat-like shit Freddie does between verses. Like, they have these great, meaningful lines followed by Freddie going ‘Um, bah, bah, bay.’ What the fuck?”

They laughed.

“That shit is in the official lyrics of that legendary song and I think about that every goddamn day. That and fucking ‘dee, dah, day - ok!’ Shit like that is how you know these dudes were on drugs. One of those guys came up with that, pitched it to four other people - if not more - and they all went ‘fuckin genius’ and bam! Under Pressure is one of the greatest hits of all time.”

They laughed harder.

“I guess I’m not as disturbed by that as I am by the fact that the people ate it up like they did. It’s one thing for those guys to say it’s genius, but then for us as the public to say it as well just fucks me up. The first time I heard that song I was like ‘what the cinnamon toast fuck am I listening to?’ Shit was weird.”

You took another drink as they laughed. 

“But honestly, I don’t understand why people go for Freddie’s sexuality when there are clearly much more roastable things to talk about. I don’t care how rich and famous he was, if you’re a straight white guy making fun of gay brown guy for being either or both of those things, you’re punching down, dude, and that’s not comedy, that’s just being an asshole.”

For that, they applauded. You continued on through your set, and this audience was great for you. They were responsive and you held their attention throughout. You were almost ready to close the show.

“I always like to end my shows with the most important person in my life,” you said. “I’ve talked about her already tonight, and she’s my daughter, Violet.”

The tech guys put a picture of her up on the projector behind you. You beamed at it. 

“That’s her. She’s three years old and she’s my everything. She’s the reason I get on stage and in front of cameras. She’s the real reason I don’t crash my car to get out of moving furniture.”

With one final laugh, you bid them goodnight. You took a little bow at the roar of applause and smiled widely. You said a few more thank yous before the spotlight dimmed and you walked off stage to the sound of cheering and clapping. It never ceased to amaze you how far you had come. 

Someone took the mic for you as your assistant approached. She was a recent hire, and something you initially resisted. But now that your name and brand had grown, you really did need the help. Her name was Stacy, and she was incredibly efficient. You liked her, as did Violet, which sold you on hiring her.

“Great show,” she said with a smile. “Vi is asleep in the green room. We’ve got a couple VIP guests for you to meet before we take you both back to the hotel.”

“Alright, lead the way,” you replied.

You followed her to another room backstage where you saw a group of men. Most of them had their back to you, but one face, you recognized. Gwilym Lee, who you considered a friend, even though you hadn’t spoken in a while.

Before you had really thrown yourself into standup, you did a bit of acting. You and Gwilym shot a pilot of a sitcom that unfortunately never aired, but while filming, you had become really close. You even felt like he was flirting with you a few times, but back then you were nowhere near ready to start a new relationship, so you’d kept things strictly platonic. Nowadays, you mostly liked each others pictures on Instagram as your main form of communication. But life was busy for both of you. You were on tour and he had gone on to films.

You started to smile but then froze when the man next to Gwilym turned his head. You grabbed Stacy’s arm harshly.

“Holy shit is that Brian May?” you wondered.

She chuckled. “Yeah! The VIP guests are Queen and the cast of Bohemian Rhapsody.”

“Shut the fuck up!” you cried. “Really?!”

“Yep,” she assured you. “Go on in and say hello.”

Your stomach dropped with nerves. Again, you shook yourself free of them and donned your stage personality. Slipping into that mask was where you were most comfortable. While you talked about the things you had endured in your comedy, there it was lighthearted, and you did not have to face it head on. You could throw a joke out and dodge it. 

“Well, hello!” you said brightly as you entered the room. 

They all turned eyes on you and smiled as you were introduced. Brian May and Roger Taylor were without a doubt the most thrilling to shake hands with, but Rami Malek, Joe Mazzello, and Ben Hardy were also exciting. When it came time to shake hands with Gwilym, you offered a warm, friendly smile. 

“It’s great to see you again,” you said. “It’s been two years or so now?”

“Just about,” he replied. “You were wonderful.”

“Thank you!”

“Gwil was the one who convinced us to come tonight,” Joe explained. “He said you were hilarious on set when you filmed before.”

“That’s sweet,” you replied. “It is a shame that show never took off, it was a good one.”

“I certainly loved it,” Gwilym said. 

You chatted with them for a bit. They all were calming to be around. Brian and Roger were complimentary of your bit about Under Pressure, which eased some of your nerves about the set. Even though you were, you didn’t feel like you were putting on a show for them. In minutes, it felt like they were your friends. 

The door opened shortly after and in walked Stacy, hand in hand with your very sleepy daughter. She clutched her stuffed dog close to her chest as she ran right to you and crawled into you lap. You wrapped your arms around her and held her close, kissing the top of her head. She eyed the guests warily. 

“What are you doing awake, sweetie?” you asked gently, stroking her hair. 

“She woke up for a little while,” Stacy explained. “I tried to get her back down but all she wanted was Mommy.”

You smiled. “That’s okay. You can have Mommy whenever you want her.”

She snuggled into your chest, turning her face away from the strangers. 

“You don’t want to say hello?” you wondered, and she shook her head. You looked at the guys. “Sorry. She’s kinda shy.”

“That’s alright,” said Brian. 

“She’s grown up,” Gwilym said. “Last time I saw her, she was just learning to walk.”

“Oh, yeah,” you remembered. “She actually walked right into you during a scene.”

You both chuckled at the memory.  

“The director was almost mad, but she was so cute,” he continued. 

He knelt down in front of you and gently touched her arm. She turned her face to just barely peek at him. 

“Hi, Violet,” he said sweetly, smiling at her. “It’s been a while.”

Her brow furrowed. 

“You were still a little baby,” you explained to her. “But you’ve met Gwilym before.”

She relaxed and looked between you and him. 

“Daddy?” she questioned. 

You stiffened and cleared your throat uncomfortably. Then shook your head. 

“No, baby,” you told her. “No Daddy.”

She pouted at you and then hid her face again. You looked apologetically at Gwilym, who shrugged it off. He started to get up, but hesitated to pick something up off the ground. It was your letter that had been in your pocket. He held it out to you. 

“Is this yours?” he asked. 

You quickly took it, your face flushing with embarrassment. Even though there was no way he knew what it was, you still felt really shy about the whole situation. 

“Yeah, thanks,” you said, not meeting his eyes as you stuffed it back into your pocket. 

“A letter?” he questioned. 

“Just some particularly touching fanmail,” you lied. 

“Not enough people write letters anymore in my opinion,” said Roger. 

“Why sit and write a letter when you can send a text?” Ben replied. “It’s much faster.”

“Yeah, but I sort of miss the anticipation involved in letter writing,” Brian said in agreement with his bandmate. 

You continued to visit with them as Violet slowly fell asleep again against you. For a while, you felt Gwilym’s eyes on you intensely. His expression was odd. It appeared he thought he knew something more about you. It made you shift in your seat a few times before at last, he seemed to let go of whatever question was burning in his mind. 

They visited for about another half hour before you really did need to get back to your hotel, and so did they. You said fond farewells to all of them, reassured them that you would see the movie, and then it came to Gwilym. 

“We’re in New York for a few days,” he said. “Let me know if you’d like to get coffee or something and catch up.”

“That would be great,” you replied with a smile. 

You gave him a side hug since you had Violet on your hip, sleeping soundly. Her stuffed dog slipped from her hand but Gwil caught it before it hit the ground and handed it to you. 

“Can’t have that,” he said lightly. 

“Thank you,” you returned, taking it. You looked at all of them. “Have a wonderful night, guys. It was so great chatting with you.”

They all bid you one final farewell. Gwilym was the last to leave and you shared a lingering look with him before he closed the door. You continued to stare at the spot where he disappeared, realizing now how much you had missed him these last couple years. 

“Ready to go to bed?” Stacy asked. 

With a yawn, you nodded, and she ordered an Uber to take all three of you back to the hotel you were staying in. It wasn’t far from the venue, since you would be doing three shows there this week before moving on Boston. Stacy eyed you with an odd smirk as you stared out the car window. Finally, you looked at her. 

“What is it?” you asked, a bit snappier than you intended. 

“You and Gwilym Lee seemed to have a little something going on,” she said with a sly smirk. 

You rolled your eyes. “We just knew each other a couple years ago. Besides, you know I’m...involved with someone.”

“Ah, right,” she said, rolling her eyes now. “The ever elusive Dear Friend.”

“Hey, if anyone’s elusive, it’s me,” you said. “I was the one who made the arrangement what it is.”

“Y/N, you write letters to some mystery man,” she replied. “He could be anyone. Gwilym Lee is a real person and right in front of you.” 

“Dear Friend is a real person,” you argued. “I’ve just never met him.”

“And yet you’re convinced he’s your soulmate,” she returned. “I just don’t get it. How can you fall in love with someone through paper?”

“You don’t understand,” you said. “You’ve never read his letters. He’s so...eloquent and smart. And I can be myself with him. I can share my deepest thoughts and desires without any fear of judgement. He does so with me as well. It’s a real connection. The strongest I’ve ever felt with anyone.”

“You don’t know anything real about each other,” she insisted. “Not your names, not your jobs, where you live-”

“Those things don’t matter,” you cut across her. “The real stuff is deeper than that. And that’s where Dear Friend and I meet.”

“Whatever,” she said dismissively, weary of having this discussion yet again. “You’ve got your family reunion on your last day in town. I suggest you find a man in person to go with you. If you show up without someone again, I think your mother will actually lose her mind.”

You considered this. She was right, your mother absolutely hounded you about your romantic life since Violet was born. You told her you weren’t ready since your marriage had left you so scarred. You didn’t tell her about Dear Friend, though, since you knew she could never understand something like that. Plus, you had only been corresponding for a year.  

“I think Gwilym would go with you,” Stacy said, nudging you with her elbow. 

“I was thinking more along the lines of hiring some actor to be my boyfriend,” you replied. “I don’t want to expose Gwilym to my family. He’s been nothing but nice to me.”

She chuckled. “At least take him up on the coffee. I really think you should explore your options in case this Dear Friend isn’t who he says he is.”

“I will take him up on the coffee,” you assured her. “But it’s not a date. In the meantime, find some poor struggling actor to go with me and get my mother off my back.”

“I’m on it,” she assured you, already looking through her phone to get started. 

You reached the hotel at last. You took Violet to your room, bidding Stacy goodnight as she went to her room next door. You tucked your daughter into bed and kissed her on the forehead before heading over the desk. You pulled out the letter from Dear Friend that was still in your pocket and read it once more. Then you pulled out your stationery and pen to begin your reply. You were halfway through your letter when you remembered Gwilym. 

You opened your phone and pulled up his number, which you had from your days of being coworkers. You opened up a text to send to him and found yourself blanking on what to say. You had written paragraphs to Dear Friend, but when it came to asking someone to get a simple cup of coffee, you had no idea how to phrase it. It made you all the more certain Dear Friend was your person. Words came easily when talking to him. 

You went with your stage personality. You sent a casual, “Is tomorrow too soon for that coffee?” with a silly emoji. Then you returned to your letter. Gwilym texted back almost right away and suggested meeting around nine in the morning, which you agreed to. Then you finished writing your letter and sealed it in an envelope for Stacy to send off in the morning. 

The letters always took some time. One thing you knew about Dear Friend was that he was from the UK. The PO box you sent the letters to was in London, but you could also tell from the way he spelled things. You often teased each other about these differences. So of course, they took longer to send and receive. But, you agreed with Brian May that the anticipation of getting one was one of the most exciting parts of the experience. 

Another benefit of him being across the pond meant that your opportunities to meet were few. In fact, you hadn’t had one since you started writing. It was a bit of a relief. You knew you loved Dear Friend, but keeping him at arm’s (well, ocean’s) length felt safest. And after your brutal marriage to Violet’s father, Henry, being safe was of top priority for you. And yet, the desire to be with Dear Friend grew daily. It just terrified you to face the reality of it. 

The next morning, you dropped the letter and Violet off with Stacy while you went to meet up with Gwilym. You went to a local coffee shop and ordered. You paid, and he protested, but you insisted, and assured him that he could get it next time. You grabbed a table and started talking. You told him you were still living in Los Angeles and that you were mostly doing shows out in California. You tended to avoid New York, since Henry and his friends and family were still there and he was still an NYPD officer. You couldn’t avoid it on tour, though, nor your family reunion. You told Gwilym about the reunion, but not the part about you ex-husband. 

“You’re hiring someone?” he asked, baffled. “A stranger?”

“Yeah,” you said. “Some guy that was rejected from Broadway or something. I’ll pay him, and we’ll come up with a story for my mother, and then the next time I see her I’ll tell her how we tragically broke up.”

“That’s ridiculous,” he said with a laugh. “I’ll do it for you.”

You blinked. “You really don’t have to-”

“I don’t mind,” he said. “We’re friends. I know meeting strange men is difficult for you.”

Gwilym knew that Henry had abused you because you talked about it in your sets. You never got into gruesome detail, although you had confessed a few things to Dear Friend. You talked on stage about not dating because of what you had been through. It was extremely kind of Gwilym to offer this, and you weren’t sure how you could thank him. Your comedian mask slipped on again. 

“I’m not sure I can afford your rates, Mr. Lee,” you teased. 

“How much was my coffee?” he returned. 

“Five dollars,” you told him. 

“Well, it turns out, for friends, I offer a discounted price of five dollars,” he joked. “So, consider it payment for the coffee.”

Your brow furrowed. “Are you sure about this?”

“Really, it’s fine,” he reassured you. “It’s just one day.”

“I can’t tell you how grateful I am,” you said, seriously. 

He raised a curious eyebrow at your tone. 

“I mean, it’s just one of the nicest things,” you continued, blushing once again under his gaze. “You’re a very generous person, Gwilym.”

“Perhaps,” he said. “Or you’re just still getting used to kindness.”

You smiled, unwilling to go any deeper. 

“Let’s chalk it up to a combination of both,” you said lightly. 

You finished your coffees and headed to the door. He had to go to an interview and you were going to take Violet around the city since the weather was nice. As you hugged goodbye, you smiled up at him. 

“See you Saturday?” you asked. 

“Saturday,” he affirmed.

(Not-At-All) Dirty Little Secret

Summary: On National Coming Out Day, Richie gathers the Losers together for dinner before the first show in his new stand-up tour.

After the show, he & Eddie have a Conversation.

Warnings: Usual Richie trashmouthing.

Word Count: ~2200.

Author’s Note: How many different fix-its can I write that involve Reddie getting together? Idk, but I’m having a blast doing it. :D.

In honor of National Coming Out Day. To all my LGBTQ+ friends & readers, you are seen & heard. Don’t let anyone ever let you feel like you’re less than your worth.

CROSS-POSTED ON AO3

Richie Tozier checked his phone one last time as he finished rehearsing for his new stand-up show, pulling up the Losers group text thread and scrolling back to the beginning of the conversation about his show that night. Hey so, uh, my new tour is kicking off at the Laugh-Out-Loud Comedy Club in San Antonio on October 11th and I'd love for you all to be there. I'll be there all weekend if you guys want to come.

He had held his breath as the replies started rolling in from everyone but the one person he most wanted to hear from.

BEV: Ben and I will be there!

BEN: We wouldn't miss it for the world.

MIKE: Of course, man.

BILL: Absolutely.

Finally, after what seemed like forever (although it probably was really only 20 minutes) the last reply came.

EDDIE: I'll be there.

Richie had let out a huge sigh of relief and responded with, Thanks, guys. I'll tell my manager to arrange everything and get you all VIP tickets. Thinking we can do dinner before the show. 

BILL: Sounds great!

MIKE: I'm down.

BEV: Losers' Reunion Dinner! :) <3

EDDIE: No Chinese though. I still have an aversion to fortune cookies.

Richie had laughed before replying. I'm with Eddie on this one. I'll check for some recommendations.

They had ultimately decided on The Esquire, a tavern near the club that had come highly recommended by some of the locals from the club. 

Richie's manager had booked everyone at the same hotel that Richie was staying at for the weekend, at Richie's insistence. Since Richie had to rehearse, he had told the other Losers that he would just meet them for dinner and had arranged for a car to take them from the hotel to dinner and the club and back. He had arranged for his own transportation just in case what he had planned tonight didn't go well.

A new message came in. 

BILL: Richie, you said a CAR was picking us up from the hotel. This is too much.

Richie grinned. Technically, a limo is a car. Besides, I told you guys you were getting the VIP treatment.

EDDIE: What he means is thank you.

BILL: Richie knows what I mean.

EDDIE: We'll see you soon.

Richie's mouth went dry. He grabbed the bottle of water he had stashed by the microphone and took a long swig. Showtime.

He climbed into the Uber he had called and greeted his driver, then practiced the speech he had prepared in his head the entire ride over to the Esquire, his hand shaking nervously. Come on, Tozier. Get your shit together. You can battle a psychotic killer space-clown twice, you can do this.

Soon (too soon?) the car stopped in front of the Esquire.

Richie thanked his driver and headed inside, taking a deep breath as he headed to the private room he had reserved for their party.

"What's up, fuckers?" he said, entering the room.

"Richie!" a chorus greeted him.

Ben wrapped him in a hug first, followed by Bev, who also gave him a kiss on the cheek. Mike, then Bill shook his hand, then finally, Eddie. 

Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. Eddie was wearing jeans, a button-down shirt that was open at the collar, and a black leather jacket, and Richie honestly thought that Eddie had never looked hotter. He suddenly got nervous again. Fuck, I can't do this, he thought.  Actually, shit, I have to. It's not right to let them find out later with everyone else.

They sat and ordered drinks, with Richie making his a double. He had promised his manager that he wouldn't get drunk before the show, but he never said anything about a little liquid courage.

After their drinks were delivered and they had placed their orders, Bill had raised his glass. "I'd like to make a toast to the man of the hour -- Richie, who has brought us together -- but we're not fighting a multi-dimensional demon clown this time, are we?"

Richie looked around. "Well, no, I don't see Eds's mom anywhere, do you?"

"Hey, fuck you, bro," Eddie said, but with no heat to it.

Richie cleared his throat. No time like the present. "Actually, I do have something to talk to you guys about."

Five pairs of eyes watched him expectantly.

He fiddled with his glass. "I, uh… I'm, well…" He looked up to the ceiling as if it could give him the courage to say what he needed to say.

He felt a hand on his wrist, then glanced down to see Eddie's black leather-jacketed arm give him a gentle squeeze before retracting. Suddenly his own words came back to him: You're braver than you think.

He took a deep breath. "I'm gay."

Silence followed his statement until Beverly stood up, walked around the table, and wrapped him in a hug. "Thank you for being brave enough to tell us," she said, which prompted the others to also get up and give Richie a hug and their own words of affirmation.

Richie was probably imagining things, but it felt like Eddie lingered in his embrace a little longer than necessary. He didn't have time to dwell on the thought though because soon after, their food arrived.

Dinner went normally, with the only mention of Richie's sexuality being Ben asking politely if Richie was seeing anyone.

Richie shook his head. "No, no, not seeing anyone right now. Honestly there really haven't been too many guys I've been interested in lately." He had shot a quick glance over at Eddie, who was currently studying his gluten-free turkey burger like it was the most fascinating thing he had ever seen. Just one in particular.

After dinner, Richie joined the others in the limo on the way to the club. With six people in the car, it was a bit crowded, but Richie definitely didn't mind Eddie sitting close to him.

Once they had gotten to the club, Richie headed backstage while the Losers went to their seats.

Soon it was time for the show. Richie pumped himself up while he waited to be announced. You fucking did it, man. You came out to your friends and the world didn't end. You're not dirty, or wrong, or broken. You're still Richie.

He was surprisingly calm as he made his way onstage, knowing that he had the support and love of the people who mattered most to him.

"What the fuck is up, San Antonio?" he greeted the cheering audience. "How you guys doing tonight?"

He grabbed the mic off of the stand. "It's so fucking great to be kicking off my new tour here. So I was near my hotel earlier, and…"

Richie fed off of the energy of the crowd, getting more laughs with his all-original jokes than he had ever gotten with his old writer's stuff.

"So I had my sexual awakening at 13," he continued, grabbing ahold of the mic stand for support. "And I'm gonna preface this by reminding you guys that I grew up in the 80's. Any Gen-X'ers in the house?"

Hoots and whistles pierced the air.

"Awesome, Ok, so yeah, anyway, I had my sexual awakening at 13. I had this group of friends, and the summer I turned 13 we all went swimming at the quarry in my hometown, and this group of friends had this one particular girl - you know the type. I mean she was beautiful -- milky white skin, fiery red hair, she was just gorgeous." He sent Bev a cheeky wink before continuing. "So anyway, all us guys are staring at her while she was sunbathing and all of a sudden it hit me -- I had no attraction towards her what-so-ever."

He paused and let his words sink in before continuing. "Then I look over to another one of my friends and it was like a chorus of angels started singing. Beautiful, amazing girl -- nothing. Pale, skinny little white guy -- instant boner. You guys have no idea how hot a pair of long legs in some short-shorts and a fanny pack were to teenage me. They say if you jerk off too much you could go blind…" He exaggeratedly pushed his glasses further up oh his face. "Well, I guess that was pretty much the truth in my case." He paused as the crowd laughed.

"So yeah, in honor of National Coming Out Day, surprise, motherfuckers!"  Richie chuckled as the audience cheered. "Thank you so much for being so supportive and such a great crowd -- I'll see you next time!" He waved before making his way off stage.

"Richie, that was brilliant!" his manager said, handing him a napkin to wipe the sweat off his brow. "You killed it! Listen, I've already been fielding calls from Out Magazine and a couple of the late-night talk shows…"

Richie shook his head. "Can we talk about this tomorrow?" he said. "Tonight I just want to celebrate with my friends." 

"Sure, sure. I had them escorted back to the limo since you already did your meet & greet with the other VIPs."

"Thanks, man." Richie tossed the napkin in a nearby bin and made his way to the back of the club, where the limo was waiting for him.

He threw open the door and climbed in. "So what did you guys--" he cut himself off.

The limo was empty except for one person. Eddie looked up from where he was sitting. "Hey, Richie."

Richie looked around. "Where's everyone else?"

Eddie looked uncomfortable. "They, uh, they said they'd meet us back at the hotel and went ahead and got an Uber. Can we talk?"

Richie froze. Shit. "Um, yeah, sure Eds." He closed the door behind him and made his way over to the seat, leaving a good bit of space between him & Eddie. "What's up?"

Eddie bit his lip. "I didn't announce this during dinner because I didn't want to overshadow you coming out, but… I divorced Myra once I got back to New York."

Richie had been so distracted by Eddie in his black leather jacket, exuding just a *hint* of bad-boy appeal, that he had never really looked at Eddie's hands. Sure enough, Eddie's ring finger no longer bore the gold band that he had been sporting the last time Richie had seen him. "Holy shit, dude. I honestly wasn't sure if you had it in you."

Eddie smiled softly. "Well, a wise man once told me that I was braver than I thought, so as soon as I got home I packed the rest of my stuff and told Myra that I wanted a divorce.  I played it safe for so many years and was so warped by my mother that I pretty much wound up marrying her clone. Myra was just like her, even down to her buying my clothes."

Richie blushed and cast his eyes downward. "Um, yeah, I kind of noticed you looked different tonight. You uh, you look good."

Eddie shrugged and smiled shyly, then took Richie's hand. "Tonight, in your act, when you publicly came out… You said you had been attracted to one of your friends who wore short-shorts and a fanny pack. You were talking about me, weren't you?"

Richie squeezed his eyes shut. Fuck, fuck, fuck. "Um--"

"Rich? Please tell me that wasn't just part of your act." Eddie's voice sounded so hopeful that Richie's heart squeezed. He dragged his eyes back up to Eddie's. "No, not at all. Shit, Eds, you have no idea how much I lo--"

He was cut off by Eddie's lips on his own.

Hoooooooly fuck. Richie melted into the kiss, scooting closer and reaching up to gently caress Eddie's face. "Oh my God, Eds…" he muttered against Eddie's lips.

Eddie broke the kiss. "I know it's probably obvious by now, but I'm gay too," he replied. "And I'm in love with you. I've been in love with you for over 28 years now. Ever since we were kids."

"Fucking Christ, I love you too," Richie said breathlessly, pulling Eddie back to him for another kiss. He licked his way into Eddie's mouth, savoring the taste of mint (wait, did Eddie actually fucking brush his teeth while he was waiting on me? he briefly wondered) and Eddie.

Once breathing became a necessity, they broke apart and Richie leaned his forehead against Eddie's. "Jesus, this is like the beginning of every single one of my childhood fantasies come true," he panted, his hands still on Eddie's face.

Eddie wrapped his fingers around Richie's hands. "Mine too." He turned and placed a kiss against Richie's palm where his oath scar used to be, a kiss so tender that it made Richie want to cry. 

Suddenly the limo stopped and the driver's voice came over the speaker. "Mr. Tozier, we've arrived back at your hotel."

"Uh, thanks," Richie replied, before turning to Eddie. "So what do we do now?"

Eddie smirked. "Well, first we need to go have another coming-out with our friends in the hotel bar, then after that I'm dragging you upstairs, where we're going to fulfill the rest of our childhood fantasies."

And they did. Repeatedly.