independent & selective eddie kaspbrak based on it by stephen king, with headcanon influences.
penned by danni (29, she/her, uk), established sep 2019, revamped march 2024
carrd wire : fearinfected discord : gazebos0202
graphic credit

No title available
Three Goblin Art
taylor price
Misplaced Lens Cap
Show & Tell
One Nice Bug Per Day
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
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blake kathryn
hello vonnie
Claire Keane

Love Begins
h
wallacepolsom
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Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ

roma★
ojovivo
trying on a metaphor
Monterey Bay Aquarium

seen from Mexico

seen from India

seen from Indonesia

seen from Netherlands

seen from China

seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from Brazil

seen from Ireland
seen from Germany
seen from Guernsey

seen from United States

seen from Malaysia

seen from France
seen from Malaysia
seen from Malaysia
seen from Bolivia

seen from United States
seen from Germany

seen from Guernsey
@fearinfected
independent & selective eddie kaspbrak based on it by stephen king, with headcanon influences.
penned by danni (29, she/her, uk), established sep 2019, revamped march 2024
carrd wire : fearinfected discord : gazebos0202
graphic credit
robert sean "puppy" eyes leonard
❛ you can't just walk away like none of this meant anything! ❜
🐝 * ― 𝑳𝑬𝑨𝑽𝑰𝑵𝑮/𝑩𝑬𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑳𝑬𝑭𝑻 𝑺𝑬𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑪𝑬 𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑺.
From the moment Richie told him that his parents were moving him to the other side of the country, a rainy Thursday evening tucked away in Eddie's bedroom, it felt as though a part of him had been torn away from the rest of his body. Beverly had left, then Ben, then Bill. He couldn't let Richie go too.
But what else was he supposed to do after his initial outburst? Aside from pleading with Mr and Mrs Tozier himself - which his pride would never let him do - Eddie could only sit back and watch as Richie prepared himself for a life outside of Derry. Away from Eddie.
He'd even spent the next month planning what he'd say during their goodbye: Something funny, probably. He'd try to be carefree about it, act like he'd miss Richie but not that his sanity depended on the other being with him. But when it came down to it, when they'd spent their last day hanging out at the quarry and were lingering outside the almost empty Tozier household, the words wouldn't come.
"Well. I guess I'll catch you later."
He winced as he turned, chest constricting with the abruptness of the goodbye, but Eddie knew that if he said any more, he risked embarrassing himself with flushed cheeks and snotty tears.
"You can't just walk away like none of this meant anything!"
The tone of Richie's voice caused him to halt more than the words did, feeling like the world's biggest asshole as he stood with shaking fists and clenched teeth. He let himself turn back, silently begging the other not to make this any worse than it already was.
"What do you want me to say?"
The older Loser laughed, brows slightly furrowed on his forehead slightly confused. It was said like it was supposed to be a compliment, Bill just wasn't sure what that compliment was supposed to be. He really wasn't any different than he had been as a kid. Not personality-wise anyway.
"You could be a dating guy if you wanted." Sure, he was pushing a little, but it was only because Eddie sometimes couldn't see outside himself and he wanted to offer a different perspective. "You know that you just gestured to all of me, right?" Bill laughed again.
Eddie was aware that he wasn't repulsive by any means, probably decidedly average as far as most guys go. Maybe he could get girls as easily as Bill could if he tried, but the thought of it sent a shiver through him, hating that there was something about the scenario that filled him with a vague sense of disgust.
"Yeah, well, you grew into your looks. And you've had way more practise than I have. I've kissed one girl, Bill - One. And we weren't even dating so I don't even know if it counts. That's the kind of shit I'm working with here."
Unconsciously, he pressed his forehead against the back of Eddie's head, the soft curls gently resting against his cheeks. As the other young man spoke he had already started to let himself drift a little. As if the permission to go back to sleep had flipped a switch in his brain somehow. Eddie was here and he was safe. In his arms. That was more than enough to let Bill relax into the hold he had on him.
And maybe his arms tugged the brunet back against him just a little bit more firmly.
"If I go back to sleep," Bill murmured, "what will you do?" He really did want to know especially since Eddie hadn't been subtle about the fact that wasn't going to go back to sleep. "I'll be sure to let the Turtle know you're thinking of it and that you're wary about it's intentions." Bill couldn't help but tease him just a little bit despite his half-asleep state.
There was the slightest huff of laughter at Bill's question as he realised he didn't have an answer, drawing a blank at the idea of anything besides laying here and trying not to move. Usually being still was his own personal hell, the need to be moving at all times keeping a mental itchiness at bay, but it felt less like a chore with Bill wrapped around him.
If it would make Bill happy, he'd stay here as long as he could.
"I don't know." He shuffled slightly, nestling into the embrace a little more fully as he let his hand retract from the spot by his chin to rest on the arm that held him in place. "Count the holes in your walls? Practise my telekinesis? I'll find something."
The laugh that tumbles from his lungs is sardonic; a stifled chuckle that aired itself around the constriction he’d already worked himself into. The cavity of his chest felt as if it’d swelled with the intrinsic clutter of panic, one brought forth only from the demeaning symbolism of the plague within his subconscious. The hand that’d batted Eddie’s away came down to grip against the threads of his sheets, the cry of bitten nails sinking themselves into the material as though it were a force that would bring him back. Something that would make it all seem more real.
Though, Eddie’s comment certainly brought some semblance of familiarity into the room; the denounce of fear waned only a fraction under the man’s statement.
“Forgive me for not running the goddamn fan all the time, I get cold fast.” It’d lacked any bitter qualm, no lacing of hatred between the chatter of his teeth as he’d huffed after. “Better to suffocate than to deal with this shit every night– that’s a joke.” His hand had unfurled itself to bring a quick finger up, as if to silence anything that may have broken the spell of his rambling, “A joke. And I–”
Didn’t want to talk about it– he never did. After days – months – of dealing with the recurring nightmares, he didn’t see the point in retelling it all– reliving it all. It didn’t serve a justice in removing it from his memory, it only enforced the information, retaining it for the next time he inevitably went to bed.
“It’s just the same shit, man. Every time. It’s different in some shapes and forms but it’s ultimately just– the same. Like I’ll never get out of there. But,” a low huff of a laugh bumbles from him, spiteful in a way that had caused him to shake his head. “It’s fine– it’s cool, it’ll… stop eventually, or something.” There was little air of forgiveness or confidence in the rush of his vocals, not even the force of a smile on his lips could seal it; instead, it’d felt much like an envelope that’d been crumpled and fucking ripped without even being opened. The delivery had failed.
Growing up, Eddie had prided himself on being the fixer within the hierarchy of their group, the one that the others came to when they had a scraped knee or a bloodied nose. Dr K, they'd all called him, he remembered with a sharp stab of fondness. Maybe if Richie had come out of this with only a few bruises, a couple of stitches, he could mend the other man's problems like a bandaged wound.
But when the aftermath nestled its claws into the untouchable roots of the mind, Eddie was as lost as Richie was in the attempts to find a cure.
"Its gotta stop at some point," he agreed, although the words couldn't quite reach his eyes, detached from the core worry that had made a home in his expression. The months since arriving back from Derry had him feeling about eighty years old, practically feeling the wrinkles etch themselves onto his skin. "We can't still be dealing with this shit when we're in a nursing home or whatever, right? It'll stop."
His therapist had given him a whole book on stopping nightmares -- Meditation, herbal tea, Imagery Rehearsal Therapy. 'Try cutting out caffeine and avoiding TV before bedtime.' It was all bullshit, every last one. It was almost like luring himself into a false sense of relaxation before the monsters reared their head at the last second - He might as well have been downing cups of coffee while watching a compilation of 'Scariest Horror Movie Scenes' on YouTube for all the good it did him.
A sigh as he dragged a hand through his hair and across his forehead, glancing down at his wrist before realising he'd left his watch on the bedside table. "It really is like a furnace in here, man. You wanna go get some air?"
"Well. You saved him, so..." That was the simplest way to put it. Eddie had rescued Richie from the Deadlights and then was promptly impaled. Just the thought of it had his stomach churning and he had to close his eyes in order to chase the horrific image away.
Eddie was here. He was okay. He was going to be just fine.
In reality, all of this was his fault. Richie had nothing to be guilty about.
"He feels like if he hadn't been caught in the Deadlights you never would have been hurt. We told him it wasn't his fault but you know Rich."
You saved him. As if he could have done anything else, could have watched while itsy bitsy spider on steroids took a chunk out of his best friend and let himself live with that choice. Eddie would have died for any of them and he knew deep down that they would have done the same for him, so why the fuck was Richie punishing himself?
"That's so fucking dumb, man." A sigh rattled through his chest as he lay his head back against the crisp pillows. "Did you tell him how stupid that is? And I can see the look in your eyes, Bill - I don't need a pity party, come on."
Abigail would like to imagine herself as not paying attention to any of the differences between the two towns, but it's impossible, especially as a Goode. She can act like there isn't the clear difference between them, but her own status and family reputation looms over her. Especially recently. Not that she had any say over having to carry that weight, it was just given to her and she was expected to take it with ease. She won't deny the opportunities she's gotten, only that it's always come with a cost, either directly or....indirectly.
She lets out a small laugh, "That's...fair, but traditionally the team does something." Not that Abigail has a lot of interest in how they get the money, she didn't want to be on the team, let alone captain. " The school does contribute a pretty penny to a lot of it. I think it's more for team-building purposes than actually getting the money," she admits.
It was hard to imagine his own school giving that much of a shit about... well, anything. It wasn't the teachers that were the issue - Eddie was pretty sure the majority of them wouldn't be opposed to fundraising and team building and all that crap. But the fact of the matter was that they didn't have the money for that kind of stuff and nobody was willing to offer any.
"So... what are you doing this time?" He was pretty sure word would get out about the fundraiser eventually, some of the guys at school likely planning a way to crash it in the dumbest fucking way possible. "Bake sale? Car wash?"
🐝 * ― 𝑳𝑬𝑨𝑽𝑰𝑵𝑮/𝑩𝑬𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑳𝑬𝑭𝑻 𝑺𝑬𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑪𝑬 𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑺.
BEING LEFT ❛ wait! you can't just leave me here alone! ❜ ❛ i don't know how to live in a world where i'm all alone. ❜ ❛ everyone i've ever loved has either left or died. ❜ ❛ i'm not yet ready for it to end. ❜ ❛ will we ever see each other again? ❜ ❛ please! you promised! you promised you'd never leave. ❜ ❛ if you leave now, i'll never forgive you. ❜ ❛ are you really going to leave after everything we've been through? ❜ ❛ how am i supposed to keep on like before when you're not here anymore? ❜ ❛ i knew this day would come, but i hoped it wouldn't be today. ❜ ❛ please don't go. not yet. just stay a little longer ... ❜ ❛ don't just walk away. say something, anything, before you go. ❜ ❛ so that's it? you're just ... gone? ❜ ❛ you can't just walk away like none of this meant anything! ❜ ❛ why does everyone i love always leave? ❜ ❛ i should've known better than to think you'd stay. ❜ ❛ is it really that easy for you to walk away? ❜ ❛ you said we'd face the world together. now i have to face it alone. ❜ ❛ if you're going, at least look me in the eyes and say goodbye. ❜ ❛ i don't have the strength to watch you walk away again. ❜
LEAVING ❛ i'm sorry, but i cannot stay here any longer. ❜ ❛ for once, i'm trying to do the right thing. ❜ ❛ you don't need me here anymore. you've always been stronger on your own. ❜ ❛ i wish staying was enough. i really do. ❜ ❛ don't look at me like that. if i don't walk away now, i never will. ❜ ❛ one day, you'll understand why i have to walk away. ❜ ❛ i wish i could stay, but this isn't my place anymore. ❜ ❛ don't wait for me. i don't know when ... if i'll be back. ❜ ❛ i wish there was another way. but there isn't. ❜ ❛ this isn't goodbye because i don't care. it's because i do. too much. ❜ ❛ this goodbye is the hardest thing i've ever had to do. ❜ ❛ i'm leaving because i love you too much to keep hurting you. ❜ ❛ i'm sorry i couldn't be what you needed me to be. ❜ ❛ i have to go find who i am without all this. ❜ ❛ just because i'm leaving doesn't mean i stopped caring. ❜ ❛ i'm not running. i'm just done waiting. ❜ ❛ every step i take away from here is breaking me. ❜ ❛ i can't keep pretending this place feels like home. ❜ ❛ the hardest part isn't leaving. it's knowing you'll be here when i'm not. ❜ ❛ sometimes goodybe is the kindest thing we can say. ❜
He hummed, head nodding as he confirmed the dreams. They had started back in Maine and even now, every time he so much as saw a turtle, a strange feeling of calm came over him. Bill could never really figure out why, just that it was something that happened with enough regularity that he'd made note of it. "Definitely beats the nightmares," he agreed and still made no effort to move from his very comfortable place wrapped around Eddie.
"Is it eight?" He asked, blue eyes having fallen shut once again as the warmth of their two bodies pressed together lulled him into being even more relaxed. If the brunet wanted to get up, then he'd need to make the first move. "That's too fuckin' early."
When he managed to sleep as well as he had, Bill was almost greedy for it. If he let himself, he was convinced that he'd be able to pass out again in no time. But if Eddie moved... If he decided he was not, in fact, okay with his oldest friend snuggling up with him, that feeling would go away almost immediately. And he was not going to examine that thought any further while he still had him here.
Eight was a guess - It could have been the middle of the night for all he knew, unwilling as he was to crane his neck to look over at the clock on Bill's table. Any amount of movement would draw attention to their position, could break the easiness of it into sharp fragments of awkwardness.
"You can go back to sleep if you want." The offer spoken softly into the darkness of the room, Eddie knew that he himself wouldn't likely be lulled back into slumber any time soon, not when his skin was prickling with this strange adrenaline he couldn't pinpoint. "Say hi to the turtle from me and ask why the fuck its coming into my dreams too."
Bill was grateful that Eddie had let it go. The last thing he wanted was to be forced into a painfully awkward conversation about his parents. He knew that they were all treating him at least a little differently after his brother disappeared -- it was impossible not to notice -- and only got worse as the months dragged on and his parents retreated from everything including him. He really wished that those looks would stop.
He was even more grateful that Eddie didn't protest his offer to get him home before he went to grab his stuff. That was an argument that he wouldn't be letting the brunet win.
"Okuh-kay but now I need to nuh-n-know what you have under th-there that would n-need FEMA. What're you h-hiding, Eds?" Bill teased, grinning brightly at his friend from across the table. It surely couldn't just be Monopoly pieces.
Mirroring the other's bright grin, Eddie shrugged at the question, knowing that his version of a messy room differed from his friends' - He'd seen Richie's room, he knew the standard. But as much as he despised an unclean room, dust and grime covering any surfaces, general untidiness was a different story. And his mom sure did like to comment on it whenever she entered his space.
"Nothing bad. Just, like, old comics and stuff. And a box of cookies. But you know what my mom's like. She found a sock under my space heater and told me I was gonna get black mould." Which he had believed for all of two days, until their science teacher Mr Keats told him otherwise.
"My coffee is never tainted," Bill defended with a playful smile having known that Eddie wouldn't believe him. And that was part of the problem if you asked Bill. "All my faculties are completely intact."
He thanked the server as they left to get their orders before all of his attention was back on the brunet. "Just try to get to know them and make sure that if they ask you something you ask them something back. Mostly I just ask them a lot of questions about themselves and make them laugh. They're really not all that complicated." Most people just wanted to be listened to in his experience. It probably helped that he wasn't hard to look at. Eddie wasn't either so he should do just fine.
Bill made it seem so simple, just like he did with pretty much everything. Sure, Eddie knew that his best friend didn't have a perfect life by any means, but sometimes he made it seem as though anything was possible if you just had the right outlook on it. It was a skill the brunet hadn't mastered yet, one in which he was sure he never would.
"I don't know, Bill. I'm not really a dating guy." Neither of them had been until puberty slapped Bill in the face and turned him into some sort of Greek statue. Fucking Achilles. "It easy for you. You're..." He gestured vaguely. "You."
[ 01 ] sender comes to receiver with a wound they have been keeping secret and has become infected. (Beverly)
White-hot anger rippled from the wound as the shirt was lifted, the skin surrounding the gash red and prickly. Eddie didn't need to inspect it to know an infection had taken root, recoiling for a moment as panic gripped in his chest, a heady mix of annoyance and anxiety battling it out in his thoughts.
"Why the fuck didn't you tell anyone?" Ire made way for concern, the edge in his voice softened slightly by the pain evident on Beverly's expression. "Shit, Bev -- You gotta go to the emergency room."
"This is dangerous, isn’t it?"
Dangerous was one word for it. Eddie would have gone with really fucking stupid as a backup, followed closely by downright destructive if you wanted to get fancy with the word choice. Most people didn't walk into a death trap willingly, knowing that there were monsters looming within the walls. Most people would say fuck that and go home.
Eddie apparently wasn't one of those people, much to his surprise.
"Uh, yeah, this place doesn't exactly scream 'great life choices'."
"I don’t play fair, remember?"
It was maybe Cardan's most irritating quality, the ability to look Eddie square in the face and tell him the last thing he wanted to hear, the one phrase that would cause the most absolute annoyance - And with a smirk curving his lips.
"Its a game, Cardan. You have to play fair. I give you a dare, you have to do it."
will be back here this weekend!!
turns out this was a big fat lie lol
sorrysorrysorry life just be getting in the way and I hate it
I will be back soon and that's a promise
will be back here this weekend!!