A Pair Of Charming Italian 20-somethings Playing Waiters Are In The Background, Playfully Whipping Each

(1) A week. He spends a fucking week in the deadlights, a week in a world that has the fucking balls to keep on turning without Eddie in it, a week after he watches him die, a week tasting Eddie's blood no matter how many times he rinses his mouth, brushes his teeth, slugs back hard liquor. He spends a week in the deadlights living with Eddie dying in his arms. He doesn't say the words but everyone knows. He recarves their initials on the bridge, and while he's doing it, he hears Eddie calling.

(2) He should probably be more disturbed than he is, hearing Eddie calling for him when Eddie died in his arms a week ago, but after everything else, all he can think is that it's fucking Derry. He hasn't been able to leave and maybe it's because he knew Eddie's ghost would come back for him, if he didn't stray too far. He hears Eddie call his name and he calls back, promises he's coming, he'll find a way to him, and that should also be disturbing, but it isn't. And suddenly, suddenly...

(3) Suddenly he's flat on his back beneath the house on Neibolt and Eddie is over him, alive and filled with worry-joy-relief, and he's seen how this story ends. He's seen too much of what comes after the end. He rolls them to the side and the claw rips through him instead, but not the way it had ripped through Eddie. It gouges into him, and it destroys everything he's wearing above the waist, but it doesn't punch through him, it's more a deep graze than anything.

(4) "Pathetic fucking clown!" He screams-- well, there's an inarticulate scream first, and then a loud 'motherfuck--', and Eddie is dragging him to safety, but then he screams something useful. Eddie is whipping off his sweater and trying to staunch Richie's bleeding, but he catches on fast, he knows. He's hurt It before. And Mike is able to rally the others with what they have to do. It goes a lot smoother than it did in the deadlights, he thinks, watching Eddie tear into It.

(5) Mike and Ben manage to carry him out, Eddie running alongside them fussing over him the whole way. This time, when they carry him out, he isn't fighting them, so it figures they'd do that smoother, too. And then he's in a hospital room, he's in a hospital room where he's been stripped and scrubbed and stitched and now he's carefully positioned on a row of pillows in his bed, so that he's not lying on the healing wound that wraps around his back and side, and Eddie is in the room.

(6) "I called Myra, you know. While you were in surgery." Eddie is saying, already in the middle of whatever running monologue he's kept up while Richie was unconscious. He's behind him, hand gentle in Richie's hair. Even if he wasn't talking, Richie thinks he'd know him. "I asked for a divorce. I can't live a lie like that anymore now that I remember... now that we've done what we've done. Even if you couldn't-- even if I'd be alone I had to leave. But Rich, you've gotta know, I've always..."

(7) "You won't be alone." Richie says, hoarse. He can't really reach for him or turn to him, but it doesn't matter-- soon Eddie is on the other side of the bed, facing him, leaning down to meet his eyes and touching his face like he's a miracle, even though Eddie's the miracle, Eddie died in his arms in the deadlights and now he's here before him and on the verge of saying everything Richie's ever wanted to hear. "Come out to LA with me. You won't ever-- you won't be alone, Eds. Promise."

(I didn't receive (8) but I'm hoping it was a miscount otherwise I'm SO SORRY)

(9) "I love you." Richie nods, reaching for Eddie in return as relief floods him, a happiness he never thought he'd know. His hand is shaking so bad he can see it shaking, and he doesn't have his glasses, and it's not that he lacks the strength to lift it, but the enormity of the moment... It wasn't so long ago that he thought he'd never be happy again, that he thought he'd lost any hope of this. He hadn't had hope, or needed it, but he'd had knowing Eddie was alive and then he lost that...

(10/10) When his hand meets Eddie's cheek, Eddie's free hand is there to hold it in place, over the fresh bandage. Eddie winces a little before they adjust the way they touch, mouths the word 'stitches' and then kisses the heel of Richie's hand. He's still shaky, maybe he'll never stop shaking, but Eddie leans in close enough that even without his glasses, Richie can see him clear enough. For now, that's all he needs.

Dude, ATN? Human furniture? Verbal assaults, physical humiliations, Nazi stuff, shooters...I just don't love it. Like I-I just don't really love it and I want to go explore. And then I—and I can come back. You know? It can be like a business open relationship. This is not a good...feeling that you're making me have, Greg, you know?

SUCCESSION (2018-2023) 2.04: Safe Room

All I'm saying is, I better get a large variety of quirky gay fics for Death Stranding when I finish or I'm gonna throw hands

I picture Giorno being a power bottom so much

I've started to write my first reddie. Pray 4 me.

Imagine Eddie working his boring life until a group of strangers come in, threatening and demanding money but one of his regulars, Richie, all of the sudden kicks their ass and is mister cool guy saving his life and Eddie could only stutter out "..are you fucking kidding me??"

I love how I’ve had the unfinished part three of my reddie Smash or Pass fic on my computer for so long purely because I feel like I’m going to ruin it. It’s 800 words and I’ve re-written it maybe three-four times. what am I doinggg

Imagine Reddie finally getting together, only Eddie's worried about their first date because this'd be the same Richie who laughed so hard milk came out of his nose at lunch, and he'll be picking him up tonight and would this even be romantic or will it just feel like no spark??

Cut to Richie pulling all the stops by dressing really nice, being very gentlemanly and thoughtful... I don't care which reddie age you go because this could be incredibly sweet but also Bill Hader would also be endearing, I CANT DECIDE