#richie.

richie's on the small stage , microphone in hand - glancing at all of these rich , white people that were watching him . anything for some money , right ? anything to get his comedic material out there , no matter how much it fucking sucked . he's taking a breath , wondering what to say , it's like he's almost out of jokes , but .. there's something up his sleeve - just one more shitty joke & he can get off the stage & get something to drink , hopefully . " well .. folks , that's all i got for today ! " he panicked , speaking instead of thinking , his most impulsive trait . " i'll be here tomorrow for more cheesy jests ! " chuckling , feeling pearls of sweat down his forehead , he puts the microphone back on the stand & sprints off stage , making his way to the bar - ordering himself a drink , anything to take the fucking edge off . those people didn't laugh at him at all , to be honest , they were laughing at him . / @testadimoros .

BEN HANSCOM: YOU DON'T OWE ME ANYTHING. I DON'T THINK ANY OF US SHOULD OWE EACH OTHER ANYTHING. 'actually, you and bill still owe me a bunch've quarters from when i beat your asses at street fighter,' deflecting with humor, even still, even after everything they've been through. there wasn't much else richie could do, because if he didn't joke or laugh, he'd most certainly cry. which, honestly, might be good for him, but richie didn't want to cry, anymore. he felt as if he cried enough ; most of those tears either absorbing into eddie's dead body, or dropping into the quarry when the losers were cleaning themselves up one final time. it may feel like a curse had been lifted from their shoulders, but richie still felt heavy with guilt. having ben around made holding it that much easier. 'i fuckin' earned that two dollars and fifty cents, alright - my fingers hurt for three weeks after that,' in spite of the jokes, he gives ben a close lipped and appreciative grin. 'seriously, thanks, man. but, um... i feel like i owe you guys. like, everything...' be serious, tozier. this is serious. 'if you ever need anything...' richie pats ben on the shoulder. 'your mom has my number, you can get it from her,' @ghoulsplay.

born on June 21st, 2020 at 9:05 am 6 lbs. 5 oz. 20 inches  @richieoshea

     was this the best time for their phone to malfunction, not putting through any of their calls? no. absolutely fucking not. but at this point, thought jax, why not? what else could possibly make their day any fucking worse? they hadn’t been sleeping, had barely eaten or drank anything these past few days other than coffee, and had been contemplating quitting or flat out moving, even knowing you didn’t just leave the savages.      jackson instead found themself at the doorstep of a cobra. there weren’t a lot of people they could actually rely on--much less trust--in valdez. and there would be hell if anyone knew how tight jax was with this particular rival gang member. “ ...which is why you better answer the door right fucking now, ” they murmured to themself, banging on richie’s door. jackson recalled seeing them at the casino, but in the days since, the town had been a mess and they could only pray that they were home safe now. // @slyfingers

@onlyvirgins

Moving, he ruffles Richie’s hair, an affectionate gesture before deciding it’s not enough. “Hey, hey, come here, dipshit. You need a hug, don’t try to deny it.” Outstretched arms move to shoulders, despite his words, he’s not in the mood to force the younger to do anything he didn’t want to, more of an offer than anything else. 

" sooooo -- bev told me that you're a virgin . how about . . we devirginize you ? "