𝐓𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐊

kaspbrak twin oc. low activity. 

[freebrak-blog]

i think i’m gonna relocate freddie over to @peaceprose purely bc handling too many blogs is A LotTM and i’m tired 

[freebrak-blog]

notbeeped :

ryan needs to call his mom. maggie’ll know what to do. he’s panicked, though, and he doesn’t want freddie to worry. FUCK. what if his mom says no? she knows how sonia is, though. they’ve been friends with the kaspbraks for long enough. ryan isn’t trying to show his nerves to his boyfriend though. he looks back at freddie and smiles, trying to reassure the other. 

“ yeah, one hundred percent.. i might have to talk to my mom, but the tozier house has always been a safe haven,” he explains quietly. when he came out to his mother in secret, that’s what she had told him. that he’d always be safe. so that had to extend to freddie too, he hoped.  he moves to squeeze freddie’s hand and just motions for him to come along. ryan just wants a good day for freddie. “ so about that movie, yeah? or maybe we could go somewhere else. i could drive us to the mall?” there might be too much at the mall though, could exhaust freddie a bit too much. “ how’re you feeling right now? like, spoon wise? you got enough for the mall or should we settle with a movie?” 

ryan just wants nothing more than happiness for his boyfriend.

all freddie can do is hold onto ryan’s hand, knows that he means it. that he will try and do all that he can; that he doesn’t want freddie to go back to sonia either. understands why freddie doesn’t want to; that he can’t handle her shrill screams, her insistence and over-worrying. maybe it isn’t too much, but it’s all he’s lived with. he needs a break. he needs freedom. he needs...  he needs ryan’s hand in his and freddie squeezes back, gentle, nods slowly as the other speaks. it’s okay. it’s going to be okay. he has to believe that. 

“yeah--  yeah, that sounds good,” he’s agreeing, then ryan suggests the mall. freddie wipes his nose and pauses. then he asks:  spoon wise?  and freddie almost tells him that he loves him. can still vividly recall the time that he’d stolen all of the spoons in maggie tozier’s lovely home and laid it across the floor, explaining how he felt, how fucking tired he was every single god damn day. he’d washed them all afterwards before she returned home, and if she ever wondered why all her spoons had been drying, she’d never said so. “‘s okay -- i’ve got enough for the mall,” barely, he thinks, but that isn’t what’s important. he wants to be fucking normal. had started low already; the nosebleed hadn’t helped. 

“i really... really want some chips right now,” comes the answer and freddie is squeezing ryan’s hand again, a bit firmer than before. he’s tired at the edges. will fall asleep the minute they’re done. will apologize for doing so. “if you’re interested? i’ve got money, we could go to the movies after?”

[freebrak-blog]

hi like this if you want memes . multi muses please specify which muse for .

[notbeeped]

ryan, coming home and seeing @freebrak asleep in his bed: ???? bitch i came to fuck i did not come just to cuddle

[freebrak-blog]

notbeeped‌:

it’s been maybe a few weeks now that freddie was staying at richie and ryan’s home. maggie and wentworth had to been begged for freddie to stay there but now they had agreed– to some extent. so once he gets home from musical rehersal, he slams his backpack down against his wall and slams the door shut. Ryan’s trying to not be as exhausted as he feels, but he accepts the hug and kisses Freddie’s cheek back and nuzzles into him.

“ practice was interesting. i’m still not sure if like… i’d do another one of these things. the singing part i know i’m really good at, it just feels like i’m not really doing the acting well– which like… i’m the lead. i kind of got to do that well,” he explains, moving into bed so they can lay down and he can actually just rest.

“ i bought my whole family and you tickets for opening night, by the way,” he explains quietly. there’s a few more weeks until the show, but it’s something. he knew maggie was excited and he was too, but it was still something he wasn’t sure entirely about. ryan had been working to the grind in order to make sure he would be prepared for the show, but what if he still messed up? or got stage fright?

   “ you promise you’ll come?”

a part of him still feels like he's being given too much. that he's taking advantage. that he doesn't deserve this, not after everything that he's been through with sonia; having to hear about how useless, broken, pointless he is. a disappointment. not what his father had created. they let him stay, though, and freddie couldn't be more in debt. would go out of his way to help maggie around the house when he could, until she shooed him away or asked him about how he was getting on with his schoolwork while ryan and richie weren't home. he'd started walking dogs, too. only one, so far (bruce, the biggest labrador he'd ever seen), but it was twice a week and cash in hand so who could complain?

most days end up with him scribbling through pages of science and reading the answers in the back, trying to figure out equations and english and---- and shit that gives him a headache and makes him want ryan to be home sooner. make him relieved that he can shove books into a draw once he is. 

fingers are already in ryan’s hair, pushing through dark strands as the other talks. eyes lidded, a pleased smile on his face to have him back. close. leans in until his lips press to his cheek, half-distracted until he hears the words. the genuine concern. “babe, you’re going to be amazing. i literally have no doubt about it--  they clearly don’t either, as you’re the lead. i’m so proud of you, y’know that?” he is. really is. “and you’ve still got time to practice it, right? you’ll know it like the back of your hand,”

he smoothes fingers through ryan’s hair then, gaze softening. he knows the dates, knows he’ll have to keep tabs on his medication so he isn’t out of it that day... he’s not letting that stop him. “i wouldn’t miss it for the world. promise.” 

[notbeeped]

ryan loves @freebrak send tweet

[freebrak-blog]

notbeeped‌:

freddie spits a ‘fuck off’ and it’s hostile, but ryan backs off. not entirely. he doesn’t want to back off entirely. he’s worried about the other though, he’s not sure how to help stop the bleeding. god, sonia was going to murder both of them in cold blood. maggie’d have to write his obituary at the ripe age of seventeen. but then he’s adamant on the fact that he doesn’t want to go back home. and something snaps in ryan’s head. fine.    they don’t have to. they shouldn’t have to go back. not yet. he reaches out and offers his hand.  “ then we won’t. “ he simply states. ryan knows this is a terrible idea. or maybe it’s not. maybe hearing sonia talk about freddie has made it so that ryan thinks he can’t do anything. maybe that’s what the purpose of all the ranting is.

      “ c’mon we’ll get you cleaned up and see a movie. then we can go do something else. “ he’s fully convinced that if he asks his parents, freddie could probably stay the night at their house. though sonia would figure that out easily.     “ we’re not going back, but i need you to try and like —- breathe, fred. please. “ 

there’s a look in his eyes that makes it clear that freddie doesn’t know whether or not he should actually believe him. if he knows without a doubt whether ryan is lying — but he doesn’t have a lot of choice, does he? he has to trust him. he has to try and rely on him, because he needs for ryan to be honest. he doesn’t want to go home, and if the other tries to force him, then he will go kicking and screaming. is fully aware that he’ll regret the fact the next day, when his body screams in protest every time he tries to move, but… but he doesn’t care in that moment. he just wants to be normal. doesn’t want to worry about his mom breathing down the back of his neck the moment she realises he’s left. doesn’t want to think about anything. including the blood dripping out of his nose.

“—okay,” he murmurs, quiet. breathes, slowly and steady. feels the tension that slowly eases up off his shoulders. “you promise, yeah?” anything other than home. anything other than sonia kaspbrak and more pills than one person should have to stomach in one day. he breathes; in, out. in, out. wipes his nose again. sniffs. “it’ll stop in a few minutes, ‘s fine.”

[freebrak-blog]

hey there! you’ve been visited by the bear of encouragement, here to tell you that you’re doing amazingly, your writing is fantastic, and cheering you on to keep up the good work! xoxo

this is the soft content i deserved, thank you so much!! 

[thatpinkmustache]

don’t tell me “you can’t do that” ‘cause I will do that

[freebrak-blog]

“if you want to go back, that’s fine with me.”     @notbeeped​

“fuck off,”     the response is harsher than intended, but, in that moment, freddie doesn’t care at all. just wants the other to stop fucking talking as he presses tissues to his nose and hopes to fucking something that it’ll stop bleeding. that the dizzy feeling will subside, because he can’t go back home. won’t. refuses to. he wants to go outside. he wants to be a normal fucking person for longer than an hour and wants to pretend that the moment he steps foot back inside, his mom won’t freak out. won’t scream at him for being careless and reckless and that he needed to take these pills and also these ones and also these ones------  she was overbearing, controlling. only, unlike eddie, his pills actually done something. knocked him for sixth. made him feel sick, dizzy. like a fucking zombie. he can barely think somedays. he breathes, breathes, breathes. lips parted as he gasps in air like he’s dying.     “i don’t wanna fucking go back. i’m not going back.”

[freebrak-blog]

also i am gonna reference the spoon theory a lot so you can read about that here if you have no fucking clue what i’m talking about 

[freebrak-blog]

freddie, hearing about the spoon theory:  fuck off. freddie, explaining to someone how he feels: so i have twenty spoons today, ‘kay? and this shit takes up about six of them and i can’t give it that many

[freebrak-blog]

friendly reminder that freddie’s body aches constantly. like it’s just a dull ache that never seems to stop and doing anything vigorous flares it up massively and he will have to spend the next day in bed because he physically does not have the energy.

[freebrak-blog]

“i wanna stay.”     @notbeeped​

it would be a lie if freddie said he understood why; if he acted as though he had any sort of inclination as to why the other would rather be here, with him, rather than with everyone else he went to school with. eddie, his brother, and the rest of the gang. what did they call themselves? the losers, freddie thinks. as if they’re really losers. no. freddie feels like a fucking loser. can’t even go to school more than once in a god damn blue moon because his mom freaks out that something will happen and ruin him further. because he’s something broken and fragile, that can never be stitched back together again. aching from the moment he was born down to his bones. refusing to leave him alone. it doesn’t now, and he’s a bit groggy from the painkillers. from the sheer exhaustion of having to do anything. he breathes, sighs. doesn’t understand.     “’kay,”     comes the quiet response, tired and a bit overwhelmed. he’s too close. he’s so fucking close. freddie moves until his head presses against ryan’s shoulder. eyes closing. he breathes. slowly, steady.     “’kay----  i don’t want you t’ leave, anyway.”

[freebrak-blog]

“take it on faith. i usually don’t follow people i don’t like for ten miles into the middle of the woods.”     @ronnietozier​

absent-mindedly, perhaps a bit late, freddy realises he’s probably blowing smoke into ronnie’s face as the other man trails along behind him. as if freddy has any fucking idea where they’re going. just wanted to get out of that shithole that they were all staying in. wanted to go outside and breathe and forget that eddie’s breathing down the back of his neck like sonia used to; asking what pills he’s on now, what he takes to help the pain. where does it hurt this morning? are your fingers shaking again? they were. but he wasn’t about to admit that, as clear as fucking day as it was. they shake now as freddy takes a drag, flicks ash into the wind and turns to look at ron over his shoulder.     “you don’t like me? here i was, thinking we could have a fumble in the woods considerin’ those beds will creak if you even move on them let alone try and fuck - ”     he cuts himself off, then. winces. his feet burn. there’s a muscle twitching furiously in his thigh.  take it easy, freds,  eddie had told him before they left, tired to the bone, and freddy had gone out of his way to pull someone along with him. unfortunately for ronnie, it’d been him. now they were in the middle of nowhere and freddy didn’t really know where they were. exactly. he’d figure it out.     “clearly, i should have asked bill.” 

[freebrak-blog]

arcadetokens‌:

“hey, your secret’s safe with me, man.” they’re in the same boat, here— the last thing richie wants right now is someone nagging him about doing something wrong, because how the hell is he supposed to be handling this?

he reaches out, takes a cigarette from the pack, then fumbles around in his pockets. “ah, shit—you gotta light? how fucked up is that — i got all fuckin’ determined i was gonna quit, threw away my fucking lighter. like, who the fuck was i kidding.” he’s talking too much, but that’s to be expected. that’s what he does. 

eyebrows raise again, only for a moment, but freddy is placing his cigarette between his lips. pushing the packet into one pocket as he fumbles with his free hand within the rest of them and “yeah-- yeah, ‘s fine,” he’s mumbling, words muffled. holding it out.

“if you ask me to light the thing, then i’m gonna start thinking that you’re full of shit,” it’s a joke. albeit, not a particularly good one, but freddy doesn’t care. his shoulders still hurt; still too tight, too tense. his fingers don’t tremble as much as they did when he first came outside, but enough that it’s noticeable. he doesn’t acknowledge that, either.

[freebrak-blog]

kaspbraakspeaking‌:

“I am not like Mom!” If anyone absorbed Sonia Kaspbrak’s ideas, it was definitely Eddie. He had figured out by now that none of it had been very healthy, but old habits die hard. “Excuse me if I’m just trying to help my brother.” He didn’t want to sound offended, and it was bad to think that being compared to their mother could  be offensive, but it was one person he didn’t want to be.

A look can say more than words, and the raise of eyebrows, the pointed look in Eddie’s direction says far more than he should allow it to. He knows he’s being an ass; that he’s pushing it too far. Eddie had stayed, though. Freddy hasn’t quite let that go. “Sure, you’re not, man,” he’s murmuring, the words muffled. He flicks ash after a moment, exhales. “Think it’s a bit too late for that, considerin’ why we’re here and everything.”