Im Probably Super Late But I Just Noticed You're 20 Now So Happy Birthday!

im probably super late but i just noticed you're 20 now so happy birthday!

Omg thank you what the heck???!?!!!!!!!!!!!!! ngl I wasn’t really expecting anyone to notice, so my world is a little bit rocked right now, in the most pleasant way possible of course :’)

20 is a weird number! I know it doesn’t REALLY mean anything and I should probably just chill out, but overthinking is kind of my whole thing so here are some of my thoughts:

I remember the few days leading up to when I turned ten (half of my life ago holy cannoli), and honestly some of the same feelings are circulating my mind? I vividly remember looking at my reflection in a bathroom mirror (at my BABYSITTER’S house because I was a fucking child) and thinking something along the lines of “wow, I will never be in the single digits again! Am I going to miss being nine? This is kind of sad and scary and I don’t know what it will be like but I can’t stop it from happening so I guess I just have to EMBRACE THE VOID!” (okay maybe not the last part but I mean the sentiment still stands). And then I turned ten, and I felt exactlyyyyyy the same as when I was nine-except with a new thing to say when people asked me how old I was (as people do when you are a child). Wild! Really what I’m saying is that turning 20 is probably pretty much the same as turning ten- kinda scary but ultimately it’s literally just a number, as cliche as that it. (basically I’m just a fourth grader with utility bills)

ANYWAYS, thank you thank you thank you for wishing me a happy birthday! Please accept this lil sketch of gratitude:

why don't straights understand that the sweet considerateness and tenderness of a first kiss starting with "can I kiss you?" far outweighs the 'passion' of someone just doing it without asking

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH

Playing with fire!

Lovely, wonderful, and all other great epithets @willowthewispp (check out her art if you haven’t yet, she’s amazing!) asked me for a reddie poem, and here’s the end result! It ended up being a fae poem, because that’s the direction my brain took as soon as she mentioned elves. I used a little but of book canon (specifically eye colours) here, and the rest just happened. 

As always, open for better quality. 

just passing by to say I miss Fredrick and I think about him a lot

OH! Have some Fredrick content

(If you can’t read my writing:

Fredrick: “That sure is a method”

Richie: “UR DARN TOOTIN IT’S A METHOD! THE ONLY WORTHY METHOD IN THIS ECONOMY!”

Fredrick: “do you even know what an economy is”)

A fish squish!?!!!!!!!

reddie but eddie is raised by frank

Frank Kaspbrak didn’t think he was a good parent. He wasn’t a good parent, he was just a parent. He knew it wasn’t going to be easy, raising a boy all on his own. When his ex, Sonia, had told him she was expecting, he’d been terrified and excited all at once. In November 1976, Frank’s son was born and Sonia willingly handed him over to Frank, claiming she wasn’t in the right mental state to raise a baby.

Frank was head over heels for his boy, whom he had named Edward. His baby son was needy, cried for attention and always wanted to be around him. It wasn’t easy but he wasn’t without support. One of his dearest and closest friends, Maggie Tozier, had herself welcomed a son with her husband, Wentworth, only eight months previously. Their boy, Richard, was loud and boisterous, constantly laughing and getting himself into trouble. Frank and Eddie spent a lot of time with the Toziers so it was no surprise to anyone when the two boys quickly became friends.

As they grew, so did their group of friends. Bill Denbrough and Stanley Uris were the first, followed by Ben Hanscom, Beverly Marsh and Mike Hanlon. Richie and Eddie’s friendship, however, was as strong as ever. In fact, Frank was convinced there was something more between them. Eddie had never mentioned anything about girlfriends to Frank; he liked to think he shared that kind of relationship with his son. Eddie told him everything. Richie talked about girls all the time like any randy teenager although he’d never seen him with any besides Beverly.

It was in the spring of 1991 when Frank became sure his son and his best friend were dating. Every weekend, Richie would come over to study; the two of them called it ‘studying’ but Frank was a teenager once. He knew the difference between actually studying and making out. And both Richie and Eddie were terrible at hiding it from him. It was the subtle things that Frank noticed, how Eddie could silence Richie with just a look, how Eddie would blush profusely when Richie winked at him, his son’s laughter at Richie’s voices, how Richie would just gaze at Eddie. Ah, young love.

Richie stumbled through the front door, all long limbs and awkward tallness. He was considerably taller than Eddie and he took advantage of it, constantly pulling Eddie into a headlock and rubbing his hair fondly. Eddie may have protested and yelled at Richie but Frank knew he loved it. Richie and Eddie went to hug, stopping quickly when they noticed Frank watching with a smirk on his face. They settled for a fist bump.

“Hey, Mr. K!”

Frank high-fived who he hoped would one day be his son-in-law, “Richie! How’s the British Guy?”

“Why, no too bad at all if I do say so myself, gov’ner,” Richie said in his getting better British accent, tipping an invisible top hat. Eddie just rolled his eyes in the background, rubbing his forehead, “I must say you’re looking very spiffing today, my good sir. Top hole. Now, whilst I’d love to stay for a good old chinwag, I must attend a very important study session with young Edward here,” he pulled Eddie against him, ruffling his hair as Eddie swatted at him, “I think this one’s gonna be a humdinger-”

“Shut up, Richie,” Eddie hissed, grabbing Richie by the shoulders and shoving him towards the staircase. He looked over his shoulder at his Dad, frowning at him, “do you have to encourage him?” Frank just laughed which annoyed Eddie even more, “what the fuck are you laughing at?”

Frank inadvertently got the confirmation he’d been waiting for almost an hour later when he walked into Eddie’s bedroom. In his defence, they had asked him to bring them snacks and soda. It wasn’t his fault he walked in to find his son sitting in Richie’s lap, kissing him desperately. They jumped apart almost instantly. The three of them just stared at each other, unsure of what to say. Frank silently put the snacks on Eddie’s desk, waiting for either boy to say something so he could tell them it was okay. Instead, Richie cleared his throat, pushing his glasses into place.

“You want one from me, too, Mr. K?”

Eddie elbowed him and Frank just smiled, closing the door behind him and leaving them to it. He called Maggie immediately, laughing and chatting with her as she shared her own stories about the boys. They weren’t very subtle at her house either, apparently. He hung up the phone rather quickly when he heard footsteps on the stairs, arranging himself to lean inconspicuously against the kitchen counter. Richie and Eddie entered the kitchen, standing further apart than usual. Eddie cleared his throat, preparing to give what was probably a well-rehearsed speech.

“Um, Dad…what you just saw…” Eddie couldn’t look at him and Frank felt ashamed. Had he really been such a bad father that his own son couldn’t be honest about himself with him? He vowed to make sure Eddie never felt like that again, “Richie was was helping me…”

“Find something,” Richie said unhelpfully, smiling at Eddie. The shorter boy just glared at him. Frank, unable to hold back any longer, broke into a wide grin and waved a hand.

“Guys, I was a young man in the sixties, you know,” he gestured at the kitchen chairs and the three of them sat down, the teenagers somewhat curiously. They glanced at each other, apparently neither having anticipated this response, “it’ll take a lot to shock me. It’s really all…fine.”

“See, Eds? I told you!” Richie sounded relieved and he turned his body towards Eddie, tilting in his chair, “your Dad’s cool.”

But Eddie was too busy staring at his father in confusion, “wait, how long have you known.”

“Since 1982,” Frank shrugged, smiling as Richie and Eddie’s jaws dropped, “when you made me buy a bouquet of flowers because Richie looked ‘cute’.”

“Babe,” Richie looked like he was about to cry whilst Eddie was blushing furiously, scowling at his father.

"Why didn’t you say anything?”

“You weren’t ready,” Frank said with a shrug, looking at his son sincerely with a soft smile. He was there for him, for both of them. It was all okay and he needed them to know and understand, “it’s your thing, Eddie. I’m happy for you both. Although your taste in men leaves a lot to be desired.”

“Wow, fuck you,” Richie flipped off Eddie’s Dad, the two of them laughing as Frank did the same. Eddie, however, was nearly in tears. He smiled at his father.

“Thanks, Dad.”

"Yeah, and don’t worry, Mr. K.” Richie threw an arm around Eddie’s shoulder, pressing a loud, wet kiss to his cheek, “I’m gonna make an honest man of your son as soon as we’re old enough.”

Eddie rolled his eyes but made no effort to shrug his no-longer-secret boyfriend off of his shoulder, “shut the fuck up, Richie.”

Frank watched them fondly, pleased neither of them had to hide from him anymore. He was happy for them, they were happy together. And that was all Frank wanted for his son.