old @freddiefrommichiganarchive - Tumblr Blog

What's up?!

Yo! My name's Freddie, I'm from Westerberg and play on the football team! Shout out to Kurt and Ram!! GO ROTTWEILERS!!

Anyway, later!

ooc post! @freddiefrommichigan is my new freddie blog!! as its a reboot im probably gonna be getting rid of this blog maybee? i might just delete ALOT of shit but keep the rps as archive / memories but we'll see

Ooc post! Im making a new blog for freddie! Its in the works but its coming soon dont worry! Yes he is getting a reboot

psychotrenchcoat-kidarchive

“Ay Dean, we gotta talk.”

Freddie stood at JD's front step. His voice uncharacteristically quiet and serious. JD hadn't been to school in a few days and Freddie got tired of waiting to talk to him - him? - about it. Freddie's varsity jacket hung weirdly heavy on him, despite not changing it's actual weight, it served as a reminder of what he was, what he needed to be, what he had to be, what he couldn't be, what he wanted to be. - @freddiefrommichigan

J.D. raised an eyebrow and stepped outside onto the porch, closing the door behind him. Something about Freddies tone had his heart racing like it was about to explode in his chest.

He stood quietly, his body rigid. Finally, he spoke- his voice quieter than he intended.

“..What is it, Evans?”

J.D. asked, his breathing starting to pick up. He hid his hands in his trenchcoat pockets, hoping Freddie wouldn’t notice their shaking.

freddiefrommichiganarchive

Freddie's eyes narrowed on J.D - like the way he stood, the way he walked or talked had personally offended him. The way Freddie stood was not stiff like J.D's, like he was scared no Freddie's was like a predator waiting to strike - eerily calm and quiet, an almost blank expression with only his eyes to judge you as if he knew something you didn't - or rather something you wished he didn't. One arm at his side while the other was stuff into his varsity with his shoulders broad, sizing J.D up.

If Freddie was an ounce honest with himself he would admit to himself that after he heard about the rumor, he's had his father's voice when they left Michigan running through his head. “This is your fault.” , “If you had been caught by anyone else you would've been dead by now, you hear me, boy?” , “You're a man aren't you? Act like it.” , “Never let anyone know this, Fredrick. So help me, boy, you tell anyone in Ohio this little problem of yours and we won't be ‘round to pick up the pieces this time.” “Once again, Jason Dean, the talk of Westerberg High. For a guy who hates it so much you sure know how to be the talk of it, huh Jason?” There was a certain tone shift on that last word - Jason - so subtle that wouldn't here it if you didn't know how to look for it, like just Freddie using the name was now a power trip - something to mock, a joke and a punchline intertwined to a word. The causal venom that came with saying the boy's name, was clear between both.

psychotrenchcoat-kidarchive

J.D. backed up into the corner of the porch. Despite his height over Freddie, he seemed to shrink under the other mans gaze. There was something about Freddies expression that J.D. couldn’t stand. Maybe the way his eyes seemed to pierce through him, the way he suddenly seemed like he knew all of J.D.’s secrets. It was as if everything the.. boy never wanted Freddie- no, never wanted ANYONE to know was suddenly being projected from his head to the others. His hands clenched into fists in his pockets, a gesture that normally made him feel safer suddenly feeling silly.

The way Freddie said J.D.’s name made his heart drop into his stomach. Just when he’d thought things couldn’t get worse, he suddenly felt like bawling and vomiting at the same time. J.D. was suddenly overcome with realization. Realization on what exactly Frederick knew.

“Jason” Dean would never be man enough.

“..As I’ve said before, ..Freddie. The extreme always seems to make an impression. I don’t mind being the talk of Westerburg. Now I don’t know what the fuck you’ve heard, but if you’re here to berate me over STUPID RUMORS-“

freddiefrommichiganarchive

“Doesn't seem like a damn rumor now, does it Dean?”

Freddie only got louder, his hand coming out of his pocket while he stepped closer to the boy- to the person in front of him. His eyes never left J.D, refusing to back down or let J.D get the higher ground despite being taller.

“Seems like you know what rumor I'm talkin' about, huh? Didn't even have to say it”

There were lots of rumors about Jason Dean. That he was a criminal, a murderer. That he was mentally unwell. Along with many others regarding his mental state and past, but now one single rumor tops them all - that “Jason” Dean was one of them fuckers playing pretend. Thinkin' they're somethin' they ain't, something that they weren't born as. And J.D fucking knew

psychotrenchcoat-kidarchive

J.D. couldn’t back up further. He couldn’t run. Couldn’t retreat back into his house. He was trapped. Backed into a corner and forced to deal with the consequences of trying to be who he was. How cruel was that? To be demeaned for the very act of existing as himself. He couldn’t remember a time he’d been overwhelmed with as much fear as he was now. Never once had he been intimidated by a stupid jock. A football player, who was all muscle, no brains. J.D. had never cared much for the opinions of others. He never needed anyones approval.

Maybe something was different this time. What the hell made him care so much? Why was he so terrified over being backed into a corner?

Then, it hit him. Freddie had never been just a football player. Some part of J.D. had cared about him. And now here he was, paying the price. For some reason he was being punished for finally letting himself care. For finally making friends. For learning the names and faces.

J.D. opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out. He was too choked up to speak. He felt pathetic.

That was why everyone realized. That is why they know. He was too emotional, too quick to react. Or maybe it was the way he walked. The way he talked. But it was too late to try to fix it now. They knew. He had denied it for nothing. They all knew.

For the first time ever, J.D. feared for his life. Suddenly the cool metal of a gun in his hand didn’t do anything to soothe J.D. among the horror that came with this realization. It was a small town in Ohio. Of course he was fucked. Anyone could jump him, tie a rope around his neck, point a gun at his chest, hold a knife to his throat or wrist. His careful disguise had faltered. Maybe it was only for a moment, but it was too late. The second his mask slipped, word spread like a wildfire.

“What exactly did you come to do? Beat the shit out of me? Kill me? Or just.. make it clear what you know?” J.D. finally demanded, his voice breaking. He stood up straight, trying to hide the fact that he was terrified. Terrified beyond belief.

freddiefrommichiganarchive

Freddie stared at him for a moment longer, hadn't moved a muscle - no change in the way his eyes stared down JD, no twitch in his fingers. Not yet. Not till the anger had fully set in, his face scrunching into one of disgust as his throat suddenly went dry, like he could start heaving at any minute.

J.D's words only set Freddie back, back to Michigan, back to that day that fucked his life up. The day he got caught. He remembered how good of a day he was having. He had broken up with his shitty girlfriend, Madeline, and had finally got with the guy he had been dreaming about for the last year. Somehow he thought things were finally looking up for him - the football star, a clear road to college on an athletic scholarship. He had planned to meet up with the guy he was seeing under the bleachers that day. Surprise surprise, a teacher caught them in no time. How, he couldn't remember. But what he did remember was the fear that sunk through him, the shake in his voice as he tried to defend himself, only for it to fall on deaf ears. Freddie recognized it in JD now as he stood on the opposite side of the fight. He got thrown under the bus that day - he had said that Freddie came onto him. That day everything was ruined for him in a span of 10 seconds. Michigan, his reputation, his family, his friends, his future - everything he had worked so goddamn hard for. Freddie remembered the anger that burned through him that day. The anger that continued into spite and soon into hatred. Not only for the people like him but for himself. Who he had become, what he was. He recognized the feeling of sick he felt looking at JD because he had felt it for himself day in and day out. The thought that Freddie could actually have that - what he craved and what he hated himself for craving at the same time. Jealousy only sprouted when he looked at the boy in front of him. Because J.D may be queer but at least he wasn't a coward. His hands formed into fists, his knuckles whitening at how hard he gripped, his eyes only narrowing in on him. Because as much of a coward Freddie was he would be damned before he let anyone - let alone Jason Dean - see it. “Honestly, Dean? Wanted to see if it was true. Wanted to see if you would laugh at the thought of people thinkin' that. But nah. You're more of a freak than I thought. I damn well outta beat the shit outta you, y'know that?” Freddie spat his words, like they pained him to say. And maybe they did. Maybe the small part of Freddie that still believed he was a good enough person to be the littlest bit honest with someone in this town.

psychotrenchcoat-kidarchive

J.D. didn’t let himself cower again, didn’t shrink back. Even as his entire body shook and tears threatened to fall from his eyes- he stopped showing fear in his body language. His posture straightened fully, and he looked down at Freddie, trying to use his height to his advantage. He stood tall, even as his knees threatened to give out under the stress.

But as Freddie threatened him, fear set in again. J.D. could probably beat just Freddie in a fight- but if he got his football buddies involved..?

J.D. stared and shrunk back again, his chest heaving. Each breath felt labored, difficult. And before he knew it, he was hyperventilating and fighting back the urge to sob. He hated himself for it. Every thought racing in his head screamed for him to throw a punch, a kick, something. Pull out his gun. But.. J.D. was frozen, praying to whatever god would listen that today wouldn’t be the day he died. His hands flew to the edges of his trenchcoat, gripping tightly. He yelled at himself in his head to move, but nothing happened. He made no attempt to defend himself against possible attacks.

“What fuckin’ reaction did you want out of me!? Is this what makes you happy, Evans!? Is this what you wanted, to see me terrified!?”

freddiefrommichiganarchive

Freddie was now toe to toe with J.D, almost daring him to try something. To pull out his gun. To fight back. He saw how scared J.D was, and all Freddie did was grin like a bastard. Like he knew how scared J.D was. Because no matter how much he denied it, he was exactly like Madeline - making someone scared of the consequences of being outed after being outed. But he still grinned like didn't no fear existed.

The fear that was oh so clear on J.D's face gave Freddie confidence somehow. Because being feared meant you weren't in danger. Being friends with dickheads like Kurt and Ram, Scarlett never failed to remind him, meant being out of where J.D stood now.

Freddie's expression had gone cold. Not calm like before, or anger like a second ago but cold. His body language still strong, still standing directly in front of J.D, the opportunity to hit him right there, in reach for Freddie if he ever chose to take it. “To see that cold stone exterior of yours crack? Yeah, it was.”

psychotrenchcoat-kidarchive

“Ay Dean, we gotta talk.”

Freddie stood at JD's front step. His voice uncharacteristically quiet and serious. JD hadn't been to school in a few days and Freddie got tired of waiting to talk to him - him? - about it. Freddie's varsity jacket hung weirdly heavy on him, despite not changing it's actual weight, it served as a reminder of what he was, what he needed to be, what he had to be, what he couldn't be, what he wanted to be. - @freddiefrommichigan

J.D. raised an eyebrow and stepped outside onto the porch, closing the door behind him. Something about Freddies tone had his heart racing like it was about to explode in his chest.

He stood quietly, his body rigid. Finally, he spoke- his voice quieter than he intended.

“..What is it, Evans?”

J.D. asked, his breathing starting to pick up. He hid his hands in his trenchcoat pockets, hoping Freddie wouldn’t notice their shaking.

freddiefrommichiganarchive

Freddie's eyes narrowed on J.D - like the way he stood, the way he walked or talked had personally offended him. The way Freddie stood was not stiff like J.D's, like he was scared no Freddie's was like a predator waiting to strike - eerily calm and quiet, an almost blank expression with only his eyes to judge you as if he knew something you didn't - or rather something you wished he didn't. One arm at his side while the other was stuff into his varsity with his shoulders broad, sizing J.D up.

If Freddie was an ounce honest with himself he would admit to himself that after he heard about the rumor, he's had his father's voice when they left Michigan running through his head. “This is your fault.” , “If you had been caught by anyone else you would've been dead by now, you hear me, boy?” , “You're a man aren't you? Act like it.” , “Never let anyone know this, Fredrick. So help me, boy, you tell anyone in Ohio this little problem of yours and we won't be ‘round to pick up the pieces this time.” “Once again, Jason Dean, the talk of Westerberg High. For a guy who hates it so much you sure know how to be the talk of it, huh Jason?” There was a certain tone shift on that last word - Jason - so subtle that wouldn't here it if you didn't know how to look for it, like just Freddie using the name was now a power trip - something to mock, a joke and a punchline intertwined to a word. The causal venom that came with saying the boy's name, was clear between both.

psychotrenchcoat-kidarchive

J.D. backed up into the corner of the porch. Despite his height over Freddie, he seemed to shrink under the other mans gaze. There was something about Freddies expression that J.D. couldn’t stand. Maybe the way his eyes seemed to pierce through him, the way he suddenly seemed like he knew all of J.D.’s secrets. It was as if everything the.. boy never wanted Freddie- no, never wanted ANYONE to know was suddenly being projected from his head to the others. His hands clenched into fists in his pockets, a gesture that normally made him feel safer suddenly feeling silly.

The way Freddie said J.D.’s name made his heart drop into his stomach. Just when he’d thought things couldn’t get worse, he suddenly felt like bawling and vomiting at the same time. J.D. was suddenly overcome with realization. Realization on what exactly Frederick knew.

“Jason” Dean would never be man enough.

“..As I’ve said before, ..Freddie. The extreme always seems to make an impression. I don’t mind being the talk of Westerburg. Now I don’t know what the fuck you’ve heard, but if you’re here to berate me over STUPID RUMORS-“

freddiefrommichiganarchive

“Doesn't seem like a damn rumor now, does it Dean?”

Freddie only got louder, his hand coming out of his pocket while he stepped closer to the boy- to the person in front of him. His eyes never left J.D, refusing to back down or let J.D get the higher ground despite being taller.

“Seems like you know what rumor I'm talkin' about, huh? Didn't even have to say it”

There were lots of rumors about Jason Dean. That he was a criminal, a murderer. That he was mentally unwell. Along with many others regarding his mental state and past, but now one single rumor tops them all - that “Jason” Dean was one of them fuckers playing pretend. Thinkin' they're somethin' they ain't, something that they weren't born as. And J.D fucking knew

psychotrenchcoat-kidarchive

J.D. couldn’t back up further. He couldn’t run. Couldn’t retreat back into his house. He was trapped. Backed into a corner and forced to deal with the consequences of trying to be who he was. How cruel was that? To be demeaned for the very act of existing as himself. He couldn’t remember a time he’d been overwhelmed with as much fear as he was now. Never once had he been intimidated by a stupid jock. A football player, who was all muscle, no brains. J.D. had never cared much for the opinions of others. He never needed anyones approval.

Maybe something was different this time. What the hell made him care so much? Why was he so terrified over being backed into a corner?

Then, it hit him. Freddie had never been just a football player. Some part of J.D. had cared about him. And now here he was, paying the price. For some reason he was being punished for finally letting himself care. For finally making friends. For learning the names and faces.

J.D. opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out. He was too choked up to speak. He felt pathetic.

That was why everyone realized. That is why they know. He was too emotional, too quick to react. Or maybe it was the way he walked. The way he talked. But it was too late to try to fix it now. They knew. He had denied it for nothing. They all knew.

For the first time ever, J.D. feared for his life. Suddenly the cool metal of a gun in his hand didn’t do anything to soothe J.D. among the horror that came with this realization. It was a small town in Ohio. Of course he was fucked. Anyone could jump him, tie a rope around his neck, point a gun at his chest, hold a knife to his throat or wrist. His careful disguise had faltered. Maybe it was only for a moment, but it was too late. The second his mask slipped, word spread like a wildfire.

“What exactly did you come to do? Beat the shit out of me? Kill me? Or just.. make it clear what you know?” J.D. finally demanded, his voice breaking. He stood up straight, trying to hide the fact that he was terrified. Terrified beyond belief.

freddiefrommichiganarchive

Freddie stared at him for a moment longer, hadn't moved a muscle - no change in the way his eyes stared down JD, no twitch in his fingers. Not yet. Not till the anger had fully set in, his face scrunching into one of disgust as his throat suddenly went dry, like he could start heaving at any minute.

J.D's words only set Freddie back, back to Michigan, back to that day that fucked his life up. The day he got caught. He remembered how good of a day he was having. He had broken up with his shitty girlfriend, Madeline, and had finally got with the guy he had been dreaming about for the last year. Somehow he thought things were finally looking up for him - the football star, a clear road to college on an athletic scholarship. He had planned to meet up with the guy he was seeing under the bleachers that day. Surprise surprise, a teacher caught them in no time. How, he couldn't remember. But what he did remember was the fear that sunk through him, the shake in his voice as he tried to defend himself, only for it to fall on deaf ears. Freddie recognized it in JD now as he stood on the opposite side of the fight. He got thrown under the bus that day - he had said that Freddie came onto him. That day everything was ruined for him in a span of 10 seconds. Michigan, his reputation, his family, his friends, his future - everything he had worked so goddamn hard for. Freddie remembered the anger that burned through him that day. The anger that continued into spite and soon into hatred. Not only for the people like him but for himself. Who he had become, what he was. He recognized the feeling of sick he felt looking at JD because he had felt it for himself day in and day out. The thought that Freddie could actually have that - what he craved and what he hated himself for craving at the same time. Jealousy only sprouted when he looked at the boy in front of him. Because J.D may be queer but at least he wasn't a coward. His hands formed into fists, his knuckles whitening at how hard he gripped, his eyes only narrowing in on him. Because as much of a coward Freddie was he would be damned before he let anyone - let alone Jason Dean - see it. “Honestly, Dean? Wanted to see if it was true. Wanted to see if you would laugh at the thought of people thinkin' that. But nah. You're more of a freak than I thought. I damn well outta beat the shit outta you, y'know that?” Freddie spat his words, like they pained him to say. And maybe they did. Maybe the small part of Freddie that still believed he was a good enough person to be the littlest bit honest with someone in this town.

#ooc// this is so shit i am so sorry 😭

psychotrenchcoat-kidarchive

“Ay Dean, we gotta talk.”

Freddie stood at JD's front step. His voice uncharacteristically quiet and serious. JD hadn't been to school in a few days and Freddie got tired of waiting to talk to him - him? - about it. Freddie's varsity jacket hung weirdly heavy on him, despite not changing it's actual weight, it served as a reminder of what he was, what he needed to be, what he had to be, what he couldn't be, what he wanted to be. - @freddiefrommichigan

J.D. raised an eyebrow and stepped outside onto the porch, closing the door behind him. Something about Freddies tone had his heart racing like it was about to explode in his chest.

He stood quietly, his body rigid. Finally, he spoke- his voice quieter than he intended.

“..What is it, Evans?”

J.D. asked, his breathing starting to pick up. He hid his hands in his trenchcoat pockets, hoping Freddie wouldn’t notice their shaking.

freddiefrommichiganarchive

Freddie's eyes narrowed on J.D - like the way he stood, the way he walked or talked had personally offended him. The way Freddie stood was not stiff like J.D's, like he was scared no Freddie's was like a predator waiting to strike - eerily calm and quiet, an almost blank expression with only his eyes to judge you as if he knew something you didn't - or rather something you wished he didn't. One arm at his side while the other was stuff into his varsity with his shoulders broad, sizing J.D up.

If Freddie was an ounce honest with himself he would admit to himself that after he heard about the rumor, he's had his father's voice when they left Michigan running through his head. “This is your fault.” , “If you had been caught by anyone else you would've been dead by now, you hear me, boy?” , “You're a man aren't you? Act like it.” , “Never let anyone know this, Fredrick. So help me, boy, you tell anyone in Ohio this little problem of yours and we won't be ‘round to pick up the pieces this time.” “Once again, Jason Dean, the talk of Westerberg High. For a guy who hates it so much you sure know how to be the talk of it, huh Jason?” There was a certain tone shift on that last word - Jason - so subtle that wouldn't here it if you didn't know how to look for it, like just Freddie using the name was now a power trip - something to mock, a joke and a punchline intertwined to a word. The causal venom that came with saying the boy's name, was clear between both.

psychotrenchcoat-kidarchive

J.D. backed up into the corner of the porch. Despite his height over Freddie, he seemed to shrink under the other mans gaze. There was something about Freddies expression that J.D. couldn’t stand. Maybe the way his eyes seemed to pierce through him, the way he suddenly seemed like he knew all of J.D.’s secrets. It was as if everything the.. boy never wanted Freddie- no, never wanted ANYONE to know was suddenly being projected from his head to the others. His hands clenched into fists in his pockets, a gesture that normally made him feel safer suddenly feeling silly.

The way Freddie said J.D.’s name made his heart drop into his stomach. Just when he’d thought things couldn’t get worse, he suddenly felt like bawling and vomiting at the same time. J.D. was suddenly overcome with realization. Realization on what exactly Frederick knew.

“Jason” Dean would never be man enough.

“..As I’ve said before, ..Freddie. The extreme always seems to make an impression. I don’t mind being the talk of Westerburg. Now I don’t know what the fuck you’ve heard, but if you’re here to berate me over STUPID RUMORS-“

freddiefrommichiganarchive

“Doesn't seem like a damn rumor now, does it Dean?”

Freddie only got louder, his hand coming out of his pocket while he stepped closer to the boy- to the person in front of him. His eyes never left J.D, refusing to back down or let J.D get the higher ground despite being taller.

“Seems like you know what rumor I'm talkin' about, huh? Didn't even have to say it”

There were lots of rumors about Jason Dean. That he was a criminal, a murderer. That he was mentally unwell. Along with many others regarding his mental state and past, but now one single rumor tops them all - that “Jason” Dean was one of them fuckers playing pretend. Thinkin' they're somethin' they ain't, something that they weren't born as. And J.D fucking knew

psychotrenchcoat-kidarchive

“Ay Dean, we gotta talk.”

Freddie stood at JD's front step. His voice uncharacteristically quiet and serious. JD hadn't been to school in a few days and Freddie got tired of waiting to talk to him - him? - about it. Freddie's varsity jacket hung weirdly heavy on him, despite not changing it's actual weight, it served as a reminder of what he was, what he needed to be, what he had to be, what he couldn't be, what he wanted to be. - @freddiefrommichigan

J.D. raised an eyebrow and stepped outside onto the porch, closing the door behind him. Something about Freddies tone had his heart racing like it was about to explode in his chest.

He stood quietly, his body rigid. Finally, he spoke- his voice quieter than he intended.

“..What is it, Evans?”

J.D. asked, his breathing starting to pick up. He hid his hands in his trenchcoat pockets, hoping Freddie wouldn’t notice their shaking.

freddiefrommichiganarchive

Freddie's eyes narrowed on J.D - like the way he stood, the way he walked or talked had personally offended him. The way Freddie stood was not stiff like J.D's, like he was scared no Freddie's was like a predator waiting to strike - eerily calm and quiet, an almost blank expression with only his eyes to judge you as if he knew something you didn't - or rather something you wished he didn't. One arm at his side while the other was stuff into his varsity with his shoulders broad, sizing J.D up.

If Freddie was an ounce honest with himself he would admit to himself that after he heard about the rumor, he's had his father's voice when they left Michigan running through his head. “This is your fault.” , “If you had been caught by anyone else you would've been dead by now, you hear me, boy?” , “You're a man aren't you? Act like it.” , “Never let anyone know this, Fredrick. So help me, boy, you tell anyone in Ohio this little problem of yours and we won't be ‘round to pick up the pieces this time.” “Once again, Jason Dean, the talk of Westerberg High. For a guy who hates it so much you sure know how to be the talk of it, huh Jason?” There was a certain tone shift on that last word - Jason - so subtle that wouldn't here it if you didn't know how to look for it, like just Freddie using the name was now a power trip - something to mock, a joke and a punchline intertwined to a word. The causal venom that came with saying the boy's name, was clear between both.

#ooc: dunno how i feel to much abt this one but gotta give freddie something

(HEY IM BACK!!)

( WELCOME BACKKK!!! )

psychotrenchcoat-kidarchive

freddie already entered your room smh

“To drag me to the gym.”

“I have not engaged in sexual intercourse with Frederick Evans. Do I make myself clear?”

freddiefrommichiganarchive

"That's one way to put it." "Was my full name needed??"

Did you make jd pregnant

NO?? @psychotrenchcoat-kid

psychotrenchcoat-kidarchive

"How pissed would you be if I creased one of your books.. again?"

- @freddiefrommichigan

“..Freddie. What did you do?”

freddiefrommichiganarchive

"HYPOTHETICALLY, if I had set my football gear on top of one of your books accidentally and it had bent and creased basically the entire book, how pissed would you be?"

psychotrenchcoat-kidarchive

“What book, Evans?”

freddiefrommichiganarchive

"Catcher in the Rye?"

psychotrenchcoat-kidarchive

“Find a way to fix it or I swear to God I will punch you so hard your nose breaks.”

freddiefrommichiganarchive

"..okay then. Noted."

psychotrenchcoat-kidarchive

“I’m serious.”

freddiefrommichiganarchive

"Uh huh. Sure, Trenchcoat."

psychotrenchcoat-kidarchive

"How pissed would you be if I creased one of your books.. again?"

- @freddiefrommichigan

“..Freddie. What did you do?”

freddiefrommichiganarchive

"HYPOTHETICALLY, if I had set my football gear on top of one of your books accidentally and it had bent and creased basically the entire book, how pissed would you be?"

psychotrenchcoat-kidarchive

“What book, Evans?”

freddiefrommichiganarchive

"Catcher in the Rye?"

psychotrenchcoat-kidarchive

“Find a way to fix it or I swear to God I will punch you so hard your nose breaks.”

freddiefrommichiganarchive

"..okay then. Noted."

#half sarcasm half not lmao #freddies not THAT stupid

psychotrenchcoat-kidarchive

"How pissed would you be if I creased one of your books.. again?"

- @freddiefrommichigan

“..Freddie. What did you do?”

freddiefrommichiganarchive

"HYPOTHETICALLY, if I had set my football gear on top of one of your books accidentally and it had bent and creased basically the entire book, how pissed would you be?"

psychotrenchcoat-kidarchive

“What book, Evans?”

freddiefrommichiganarchive

"Catcher in the Rye?"

psychotrenchcoat-kidarchive

"How pissed would you be if I creased one of your books.. again?"

- @freddiefrommichigan

“..Freddie. What did you do?”

freddiefrommichiganarchive

"HYPOTHETICALLY, if I had set my football gear on top of one of your books accidentally and it had bent and creased basically the entire book, how pissed would you be?"

psychotrenchcoat-kidarchive

bruh u have two hands one for veronica and one for freddy duuhh

“Again, I am not interested in the slightest in dating Freddie.”

freddiefrommichiganarchive

"If people are gonna call us gay, can they at least spell my damn name right? ALSO, I'm not gay, the fuck??"

psychotrenchcoat-kidarchive

Freddie now stood outside the great Jason Dean's house. How did he find his address? Don't ask. He may or may not have seen him go home after one of their few hangouts. But that didn't matter.

Freddie stood in a tanktop and gym shorts along with his gym bag slung over his shoulder. Today would be the day Jason Dean went to the gym. Why? Because Kurt and Ram were busy and Freddie wasn't in the mood to go alone.

The sun shone brightly in the way it did on a Saturday at 11am. So, he walked up to the Dean household door and opened it, which was weirdly unlocked. When he opened the door, he saw JD's dad passed out on the couch. Eh, Freddie couldn't judge.

But Freddie didn't may mind, only walking up the stairs to JD's room and quietly opening it. The curtains were still closed, and he was still asleep. - @freddiefrommichigan

J.D. didn’t wake up when Freddie walked in, too deeply asleep. He just curled up further in bed.

He unconciously pulled the blankets higher and covered his face, groaning as light filtered into the room.

“What the fuck..?” He muttered, half asleep. He immediately felt someones eyes on him and looked up, immediately seeing the ASSHOLE he somehow liked tolerated.

“Freddie- what are you doing in my house-“ He questioned, his eyes widening slightly. “It’s-“ he looked at the clock. “Oh.. it’s 11..”

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"You're going to the gym with me." No question. No hi. No good morning. Just a blunt statement. Afterwards Freddie went over to JD's windows and opened his curtains, letting the morning, soon afternoon, sun light come in. Freddie chose to ignore how JD's room smelt.

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J.D. squeezed his eyes shut as the sun lit up his room.

“Jesus Christ.. Go with one of your football buddies or something-! I’m tired.” J.D. complained, refusing to get up.

“You could have at least given me a day or two heads up! I just went to sleep like two hours ago..”

J.D. flipped Freddie off. “Seriously, how entitled do you have to be?”

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"Someone's not a morning person, damn." Freddie only laughed at JD before standing over him once more, as if waiting for him to get up.

"Also- Kurt and Ram are busy so you're my last resort."

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“Go by yourself, then.”

J.D. huffed and flopped back down, burying his face in the pillow.

“You’re not dragging me to the gym.” He said firmly, his voice muffled by fabric.

“Fuck off, Evans.”

He pulled the blankets over his entire body.

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Freddie only put his gym bag down and pulled the covers off of JD.

"I'll drag you there, Dean."

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“No.”

J.D. muttered.

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Freddie picked JD up from where he was laying and picked him up bridal style before chucking him back down onto his bed

"Rise and shine sleeping beauty. We're going to the gym, get ready"

Freddie couldn't help but grin because he would be physically drag JD if he had to

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J.D. just stared at Freddie in bewilderment for a moment before shaking his head and trying to compose himself.

“I’m not going to the fucking gym.”

He spat, glaring at Freddie. “Seriously, find someone else to drag!”

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"Nope. I came all this way, you're going to the gym" Freddie started looking around for suitable gym clothes for JD to wear. Just going through his drawers, eventually finding a black tanktop and some okay shorts for the gym. He then chucked them at JD.

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“I would rather die.” J.D. complained.

“Just go on your own, for fucks sake! Do you expect me to work out on two hours of sleep?”

His voice took on a slightly whiny tone.

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"Have some coffee?"

He said it like it was obvious and still stood there waiting for JD.

"Get up or i will drag you to my car, Dean."

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“No, fuck you.”

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"Listen, I wanna go before it gets packed so-"

Freddie just shrugged before literally picking JD up like a bag of potatoes and grabbing the clothes he picked in his other hand.

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J.D. yelped as he was picked up.

“Put me down, or I swear to God, Evans-“ He yelled, punching Freddie in the chest.

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"Or what, JD? Hm?"

Freddie wasn't scared of JD, why would he be? For all he knew, JD was some weird kid in a trenchcoat with a shitty attitude who hated popular people.

Freddie made his way downstairs, ignoring JD's dad who was now awake and watching his son get dragged out of his house over the shoulder of some random football star, and made his way down to his car.

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“I hate you. With every fiber of my being.” J.D. said, not even bothering to fight being carried.

“I hope you get injured so badly that you can’t play football anymore.”

J.D. just went limp, half-hoping it would make Freddie drop him. It of course didn’t.

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"How kind" Freddie managed to open the passenger door and put JD in it semi-gently, before shoving the clothes into his chest and shutting the door to his. He then made his way over to the driver's side.

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J.D. frowned and crossed his arms over his chest.

“You’re never doing this again. I’ll fucking kill you if you ever do this again.”

“Fuck you, Freddie.”

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"And I thought you had a girlfriend?" He knew it was a cheap shot with the gay joke again, but Freddie couldn't not

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“Oh for fucks sake!”

J.D. rolled his eyes.

“Enough with the gay jokes.”

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Freddie laughed before starting the car

"I couldn't not!"

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J.D. sat in silence, still mad about being dragged out of bed.

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"You gonna be in a mood the whole time, Dean?"

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“Probably.” J.D. gave a cocky grin.

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"Whateverrr. You need this more than I do with how many slushie you drink"