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squeakykid · 11 months

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This is for Reddie Week Day 6, Post-Apocalypse. There are two chapters available!

The Day the Strings Broke

IT has an eternal cycle. Spinning around and around like the Earth. Some say the Earth is carried on the back of a turtle. The cycle of IT and the turtle are interconnected, spinning around and around like a game of tag played by children. There was just one problem. The turtle was growing tired. He had been playing this game since the beginning of the beginning, and it was becoming hard to keep IT bound and contained. IT was supposed to feed and then sleep, but IT was growing restless. IT didn't want to stay asleep. IT wasn't satisfied anymore.

There were seven brave children. The turtle watched over them. These children were special. They were destined to end the turtle's suffering. To finally help him rest. IT noticed this too.

There was a battle between the seven children and IT. The children felt they were victorious, and they were, for a time. IT returned to its hibernation, and the turtle was able to briefly rest.

IT did everything in its power to keep the seven children away. Fame, fortune, forgetting. IT could sense the children were in the way of its growing power. They had to go. And they did. For a while.

One child remained, brave and lonely and waiting. IT couldn't break him. IT couldn't tempt him away and sever him from his memories and his friends. The lighthouse keeper. He laid in waiting for IT to return. He sacrificed his life to keep a promise to his closest friends. Whether they remembered his name or not.

Then, the lighthouse keeper made a call. His wait was over. IT was feeding again for the first time in twenty seven years. If the lighthouse keeper hadn't stayed, there would have been no chance to stop IT at all.

The lighthouse keeper called his friends and one by one like light switches being switched, they remembered and they knew what they had to do.

Seven children became six, one of them thinking the only solution was to remove himself from the board. Those remaining children made their way back home to join their lighthouse keeper. The loss was felt like shockwaves, one by one through each of the six remaining children, but the friends were determined to avenge the seventh child.

The mythic battle was fierce. Six children fighting against evil itself. Mere humans that were filled with responsibility that couldn't fit in their small bodies, but the turtle was tired. The strings holding IT in its prison had grown thin. Though they were but mortal children as far as the turtle was concerned, they were all he had left. They were the last soldiers left on the front lines against something they couldn't even comprehend.

It should have been obvious the cards were so stacked against them, that they held none at all. They just had empty hands at the mercy of a full deck, and it knew it.

The battle was fought valiantly. The children were incredible. They proved that humans were capable of more than they seemed. It just wasn't enough.

As the story goes,

The compass. The child that always knew the way. He held the secrets needed to save them all, but IT knew this too. IT refused to let that happen. Staring directly at ITs true form was too much for a human mind. It would become scrambled, paralyzed. The compass always instinctively knew the way, but that wasn't enough to avoid the deadlights. He was taken hostage in the deadlights, his knowledge with him, and the other children fell, one by one.

The turtle had nothing left. The strings became as thin as dental floss, fraying and fraying until..

the strings broke.

No Children

Richie Tozier grew up in Derry Maine. He didn't remember anything about growing up until he got the call. Mike Hanlon, one of his best friends apparently, called to tell him IT was back.

Memories hit him like a truck speeding on the interstate. Richie was living in sunny Los Angeles, California as a successful comedian. Things seemed great, but he was never really happy and could never put his finger on why. When his memories hit him, he suddenly understood. There was so much missing from his heart like a hole was drilled into it and no amount of drugs and money could fill it. It was missing his summer memories, his friends, his proof of being strong.

Also, there was a boy. Freckles engulfing a small body, a shrill voice ready to lecture anyone in his path, bandaids in his stupid fanny pack ready to patch up Richie if he were ever to get in a scrape. And he did. Richie Tozier was known for his scrapes. He was always doing stupid and reckless things, falling from his bike after trying to do something impressive, his big mouth provoking bullies that he was too weak to defend himself against, but no matter what he did, little Eddie Kaspbrak was there. Sometimes, Richie was even reckless on purpose. How else was he supposed to get the undivided attention of that angry freckled boy? The cutest boy in the world. He couldn't just ask. He couldn't give the game away. Everyone would have hated him if they knew the truth.

It didn't matter anymore. The world was unrecognizable. This wasn't the world that young, closeted Richie lived in, but it also wasn't the world sad oblivious comedian Richie "Trashmouth" Tozier lived in. This was something entirely new and somehow worse. So much worse. Hiding his sexuality was no longer his biggest burden in life. He had even bigger problems to worry about. Love seemed insignificant. Afterall, little Eddie Kaspbrak was gone.

At first, they thought he'd come back. Beverly was freed from the deadlights as a child. It seemed likely Eddie would snap out of it too. He didn't. It could have been that Pennywise was more powerful now. They'd lost. Maybe the deadlights were potent enough to scramble the mind entirely. It was possible Eddie was braindead. There were no more hospitals to check for sure.

Then, they thought it was just Derry. Pennywise had always been confined to Derry before, but something was different. The losers initially fled Derry. They went back to LA. It was nearly as far from Derry they could get, still in the United States. Bill and Richie both lived there and Bev and Mike had no desire to go back home. Ben was happy to be along for the ride, and Eddie? Eddie had no choice in the matter. His mouth stayed open, drying. His eyes were completely white. Richie was able to close his eyes, the way people closed the eyes of dead people on TV. So, his eyes were protected from the air, but his mouth wouldn't stay closed, it just hung limply open like the mouth of a fresh corpse.

It was fine in LA, at first. They stayed at Richie's place, sleeping in the living room on the floor like it was a slumber party. Ben and Bev shared sweet kisses under the covers, and Richie pretended he didn't notice. Mike always beat Bill at foosball as if he'd been training for it his entire life, and as far as they knew, he had. They didn't know each other anymore, and yet, they still were a part of each other. For twenty-seven years, they missed each other like phantom limbs. Now, at least one of those limbs had been cut off and one was limp and frozen, dragging on the ground behind them.

Richie spent his time with Eddie. In the beginning, they were all so confident he'd snap out of it. Richie took care of Eddie with such care while they waited for him to be okay again. He'd bathe him, dress him in his old clothes, brush his hair. The other losers watched him do it in a sad way. In a way that made Richie feel like his skin was transparent, and his thoughts were written underneath.

Oh course, there was Eddie's wife, but none of them knew how to get ahold of her, besides, they had no idea how they'd explain what was wrong with Eddie. They thought they'd wait until he was conscious to bring her into the picture. That day never came.

Unbeknownst to any of them, that was when the first of the eggs started hatching. Then, it was only a week after that before the news broadcasts started. Nationwide child abductions were spreading like a plague. Of course, they were centered in mostly Derry, Maine. When they left Derry, it was a black hole. A ghost town. Pennywise had exploded in power in an instant and it was like the town was sinking back into the Earth. They had no choice but to leave, to regroup. They had no way of knowing Pennywise wasn't satisfied feasting on the children of Derry, Maine anymore.

Children went missing, people reported symptoms of mass hysteria, the symptoms were primarily hallucinations, but there were also the people that were becoming frozen, eyes white, mouth slack. Things escalated exponentially in the matter of days. Something was different. It was like Pennywise could be everywhere at once. People constantly reported hallucinations of their worst fears appearing before their eyes. He wasn't hiding anymore. Whatever bound Pennywise to Derry was gone. IT was free.

Now, there are no longer news broadcasts. It seemed the world came to the terrifying realization all at once. It wasn't mass hysteria or hallucinations. It was real. Their worst nightmares were real. The streets were littered with bodies. Many people took their own lives to end the constant fear. One thing was obvious among those left, including the bodies in the streets, there were no children.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/47761483/chapters/120398089#workskin

#long post #reddie week #reddie #eddie kaspbrak #richie tozier #it 2017 #it by stephen king #reddie week 2023 #reddieweek #day 6 Post-Apocalypse #sunnywrites #fanfiction

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ladystoneboobs · 7 months

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8 TV shows to get to know me better

i was tagged by @isitcasualnow. here goes.

friday night lights-i'd just always like more people to watch this to grow the fanbase, which was small enough when it was still airing. so that every season until the last two we had good reason to think it was cancelled until a last minute turnaround. a teen drama set apart bc it was anchored by two parents and that actually worked. one of the last great network tv dramas, even accounting for a weird turn in the end of s1-early s2. as a lifelong tx resident (tho not in a small town thank god) a lot of it does ring true to me, and the little things that don't used to drive me crazy. disclaimer that i have no interest in nonfictional usamerican football and every game i attended was a purely social occasion, esp since our hs team sucked.

yellowjackets-the only currently running show i am willing to hunt down unofficial ways to watch each ep right after it comes out. that's a recommendation for you when roku has made me lazy and spoiled about wanting to watch stuff on an actual tv screen. it's girls going wild lord of the flies-style and milfs doing crime, something for everyone.

the simpsons-esp the golden years in like s1-10. i still watch this pretty much every day through the beauty of syndication.

jeopardy!-another show my family has watched every day for decades. you should still be able to find some of the old alex trebek ep on youtube.

er-if fnl was one of the final new great network tv dramas, er was one of the last running with 15 seasons. i dipped sometime after s10 but came back near the end. i used to sneak out from my room to watch this show in the living room with my mom as a little kid. the first two seasons of er and the fnl boxset are the only tv i've bought on dvd. which should tell you something tho it's all kinda unusable now.

degrassi: tng-esp the original classes of '06 and '07. a cringe interest i am old enough to admit to now, having been involved in the fandom ironically back then on multiple forums where we both discussed and made fun of the show. i'm sure it still has plenty of unintentional entertainment value, and its precursors, djhs and dhs are what we have to thank for bh90210 and every usamerican teen drama that came after.

it's always sunny in philadelphia-curse the fx/hulu deal for making this harder to find elsewhere. i still remember when it was on netflix.

derry girls-only 3 seasons as uk show that's not downton abbey or midsomer murders or the like, but i've the entire run on netflix multiple times now

#isitcasualnow #there are so many other past fandoms i dnw to return to #and/or cannot in good conscience reccomend to others #which is how i interpreted the prompt #(i dont have disney+ either but i dont count finding ways to watch sw shows bc #theres not the same urgency for me as w yj fridays in s2)

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tammythompson-singslikea-muppet · 4 years

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Betrayal (Stan Uris x reader x Richie Tozier Reddie)

Soooo I wrote this a long time ago and put a lot of work into it but then didn’t end up being super happy about the ending and the fandom slowly dying so I never posted it. Revisiting the story and re-writing a few things I have decided to post it so ENJOY!! I couldn’t really come up with a better name if you have any suggestion I would gladly take them.

Warnings: swearing, some sexual references and mentions of sex

aged up 18/19

Bold = flashbacks

Part 2

You walked into the dinner on a slightly sunny morning in July. It had started to get warmer in Derry but since it was still early in the day the temp was barely out of the seventies. You sat down next to a familiar mop of perfect curls at the bar,

"I could kill a man for a coffee right about now."

"Is that so." The boy responded sipping his coffee from his mug. You both let out a laugh. The same waitress as always came over and immediately poured you a cup of coffee without even having to ask.

"Thanks, Josie." You picked up two packets of sugar and dumped them into your coffee along with a little bit of creamer. After taking a sip the boy looked over to you with a small smile,

"I guess I shall live another day".

"Lucky you."

A moan escaped your lips as you were pushed against the wall of the bathroom, basically swallowing each other's tounges. One hand was tangled in the beautiful mess of curls the other rests on his bicep which leads down to his hand at your hip, the other at the back of your neck. Heavy and passionate were two things someone from the outside might call it but you could only feel need. The door open and closed before a voice rang out,

"I guess you're taking the break up with Richie pretty well then?" Beverly continued over to a stall. You and Stan pulled away from each other, the Uris boy quickly making his way for the door. When he opened it he was met with an older lady and immediately apologized, squeezing his way past her. A blush very noticeable on his cheeks. She walks in and glances over to you "Wrong door" You shrugged. She shook her head knowing better and went into a stall. Beverly walked out and just laughed at you. Failing to conceal a laugh you brought a hand to your mouth. Beverly washed her hands and you both exited the bathroom and walked towards the counter. "Stan took care of it all" Josie smiled. You pulled out your wallet and handed her an extra tip anyway. She smiled and thanked you.

"Did you walk here?" You asked Beverly as you left the dinner.

"No Bill dropped me off." She motioned over to Bill sitting in his car, it seems Stan found it first and was leaning against the car talking to Bill.

"No Haystack today?"

"He's still sick," She scrunched up her nose in disgust."-But he's getting better." When you looked up at the car you could see someone sitting in the backseat. Suddenly it was like you were fighting with yourself to turn around every step that you took. Beverly looked over to you and mouthed sorry. You told them that you didn't want people taking sides, and you were glad that they didn't. But that doesn't mean it hurt any less to see someone you used to be so close with, and not even have it in you to say hello. Beverly grabbed something from the front seat before joining you by Stan, who was conversating with Bill and the boy in the back seat. You didn't even want to say his name let alone look at him so you just stared at the ground.

"Bye Bill, see ya, Eddie." You almost winced at his name. As you, Stan, and Beverly walked over to your car you could feel Stan about to apologize. He could barely get out the word 'I'm' before you pointed a finger up at him.

"I said no apologizing," he sighed and sat down in the passenger's seat," I said no picking sides, and I meant it you do not need to apologize for talking to one of your friends."

"But I feel b-,"

"I told you not to feel bad either." You looked over at him and showed him a smile. "Now be my DJ, we're going over to Mike's." Stan gladly turned on the radio as Bev in the back groaned,

"But his music taste sucks,(Y/N)!" you laughed and pulled out of the parking lot.

* * *

Mike welcomed the three of you with a smile and directed you towards the living room. Beverly walked up to Mike as you and Stan trailed behind. You could see her whispering into his ear. Being curious as to what was short-lived once Mike turned to you and Stanley.

"So what have you two been up to today besides playing tonsil hockey in public restrooms?"

"Subtle. very subtle." You glared between the pair on the couch. Stan looked around the room trying to avoid the question, and you just ignored it entirely. "How's your truck coming along?"

"Yeah did you get that part Bill said you needed?" Stan butted in. Not even looking at her you could feel Beverly rolling her eyes. Mike just laughed at your change of subject.

"Yeah, I just ordered it this morning. Hopefully, it will be the only part I have to order and I'll be driving you losers around in no time." The four of you spent most of the afternoon talking about a little party you guys are throwing for Ben over here at the farm. He had been gone the most June, out visiting family, and when he came back y'all did a welcome home movie night but he got really sick. So now it was your idea to just throw a whole dang party cuz why not, the kid deserves it. Although the only thing that really makes it a party is decorations. Seeing as it'll just be the eight of you as always goofing around.

"I think the final question is," Mike turned around to look at you. "Are you gonna be ok with Richie and Eddie here?"

You didn't want to answer this question. Everything seemed so different the last time you were all together. It was actually that same night, that Ben came home when you caught them. You haven't spoken to or even seen Richie since that night. Although you still weren't very keen on the idea of seeing them, you weren't even sure how it was all gonna go with your dramatic little ass, but you were gonna face it for Ben. And s' mores.

"I guess we'll see how it goes." Stan smiled at you, completely unconvinced that this wasn't going to turn into some sort of emotional disaster for you.

"Have you talked to him at all?" Mike asked. You looked down at your feet causing Mike to put a comforting hand on your shoulder.

"It sucks, I know. But, next to Bev respectively, you're the toughest girl I've ever met, and Richie is gonna feel like complete and udder shit for at least a month, maybe two, but that doesn't mean that you have to. We're gonna have loads of fun and you're totally gonna forget what a shitty week you've been having." A grateful smile graced your features,

"Thanks, Mikey." Mike looked over to Stan who was talking with Beverly and leaned in closer to you. "So what's going on with you and Stan?" Mike has been very speculative over what has been going on with you and Stanley. The two of you were in vulnerable states, both going through difficult breakups. Mike didn't want to see his friends in any more hurt than they already were, which made him highly skeptical of your and Stan's, a bit, lusty escapades.

The question through you off a bit. The thing is you hadn't really thought of much about what you and Stan were doing. Neither of you treated it very seriously and were just trying to find someone to dull the pain. It wasn't a very healthy coping mechanism and both you knew that, but anyway threw caution to the wind. For once in his life, Stanley felt out of his head. He wasn't overthinking anything, because it just felt good. And at the moment that's all he really wanted to feel, same as you. Neither of you ever stopped to think that maybe it felt a little too good. So instead of hashing out all the pain and misery the both you just though it easier to get a little horny. You've never actually slept together, but you don't think the rest of the losers believe that. The other day you were at Mr. Keene's store with Bill picking up a few things and he proceeded to throw a pregnancy test at you and said

"Here I-I'll call Stan and tell him thu-thu-the news" You started at him shocked for a second then threw it back at him.

"Hardy har har, you want me to track down someone who's ACTUALLY pregnant then leave the test in your mother's bathroom? Hmm, I bet that would lead to an interesting conversation now wouldn't it Mr. Denbrough." You spatted out quickly and both erupted in laughter, then Bill motioned over to Greta sitting behind the prescription pick up counter. After that, you were turning heads with all the noise and loud laughter being made.

"Umm, I don't know. It's just a bit of tension release I guess. Something easy and simple between friends." The words came out of your mouth quickly wanting to move away from the subject. That seemed to be your new hobby, avoiding subjects. You could tell that Mike wasn't trying to pry. He was just worried about the whole thing. You were gonna reassure him that everything would be fine, but for one: You didn't know that and for two: The house phone started ringing. You nodded your head towards the phone and Mike went to take of it.

"This conversation isn't over."

"Uh-huh,"

Stan walked over to you. "What's the conversation about?" Stan questioned. You sighed

"Nothing. Just about us." At that moment Stan turned his head down towards your's then immediately stopped what he was doing. The next thing that was about to happen - that Stan stopped from happening - was something that told Stan that this whole thing was gonna come back to bite him in the ass. And that maybe Mike has a point being worried about you two.

See the thing is, Stan is not a very affectionate person to someone other than who he is in a relationship with. When you are just a friend occasional hugs and a hand on a shoulder are about as touchy-feaey as Stan would get, unless it's movie night then he'll end up resting his head on someone's shoulder. If another loser was standing right beside you sensing your unease and possibly slight confusion, that Stan was sensing, it would be a totally normal Ben thing to just put a hand on your four-arm rubbing gently. And it would be a totally normal thing for Bill to lean down and press a gentle friendly kiss on the top of your head, of course not without a sly remark from Richie. 'But that's over now.' Stan thought to himself. But a thing like that, an innocent little kiss on the top of the head to comfort a friend was not a very Stanley thing to do. Yet there he stood looking slightly down, not being much over a head taller than yourself, having to stop and think to himself about what the heck he was doing. Because that was exactly what he was about to do, press a kiss to the top of your head. 'It's just an innocent kiss! That didn't even happen! Don't you dare overthink this Stan!! Don't ruin yet another good thing with stupid fucking overthinking!!' While yelling at himself in his head his gaze had never left the top of yours. Suddenly his eyes were no longer looking at your head but rather into your eyes. You had leaned your head up to notice that Stan was staring at you. 'Shit! Shit! Shit!' There goes Stan again yelling in his head.

"Whatcha thinking about Mr. Boy Scout?" In what felt like years to him, Stan finally blinked, swallowed, then answered,

"Nothing." And with that and much to Stan's luck, Mike walked back into the room.

"Was just a telemarketer- anyway what are we talking about?"

"Absolutely nothing," Beverly smirked at you and Stan. The awkward silence didn't last long when Beverly spoke again.

"Uh, I have to drop off something at Richie's"

"Count me out." The eye roll and tone in Stan's voice hurt you more then you expected. Another totally unexpected feeling was that you suddenly felt bad for Richie. He and Stan had been friends for ages. It was this exact thing that you didn't want happening when you told everybody not to pick sides. And now you are standing right next Stan listening to the disdain in his voice when Bev mentioned Richie and it almost made you feel sick. 'Girl! Get your shit together! The last person you should feel bad for is Richie fucking Tozier! You lost a best friend because of him, its only fair he looses one too!' your mind screamed at you.’ But that still didn't get rid of that feeling in the pit of your stomach.

The rest of them have been doing pretty alright with it, according to Bill, Bev has been a little snippy to them, but apologizes. Bill says he's Switzerland and honestly you're thankful for that but it must suck for him the most because of it. He tells Bev that he tries hard not to be mad at them, but he also feels like in doing so it's an injustice to you, so he really just tries to split his time with you guys down the middle. Mike is the true neutral out of them, he really doesn't like the confrontation but has admitted to wanting to punch them both in the teeth at least once. Ben says he is really upset at them and has been telling you that he's only not talking to them that much because he's sick and he hasn't been talking to anyone that much that isn't Bev. But you also once overheard Bill tell Stan that he hasn't even spoken a word to Eddie, on account of the fact that he was the one who introduced you and Richie and that just really struck a chord with him. You brought it up to him once but he faked a coughing fit to avoid it then changed the subject. He and Stan are the only two who have made an effort to avoid or not talk to Richie or Eddie, but as much as you tell them you just want everybody to get along and you don't want anyone else getting hurt you can't exactly control people.

*time skip to party*

"Eduardo, àndale, let's go!" You yell to Eddie in the car as you and Richie walk up to Bill's door. You were so excited to see Ben and were always happy to hang out with all the losers. Eddie gets out of the car as Richie opens the door,

"Billiam, the threesome have arrived!!" You and Richie walk in hand-in-hand Eddie in short distance

"Quit calling us that, Rich! It's fucking gross!!" Eddie shouted from the doorway, closing the door behind him. You walk into the living room to find Ben. Like always he's sitting next to Beverly on the couch so you venture over there

"HANDSOME HANSCOM!!! WELCOME HOME!!" He blushes at your nickname and gives you a smile.

"Thanks, (Y\N)" It felt nice to have Ben back with all of the losers. The bunch of you asked Ben questions about his trip and messed around for about an hour, before deciding to put in the movie. They all look at you and as you were leaning on Richie's shoulder.

"What?"

"The movie?" Stan questioned.

"Oh right! It's in my car I'll be right back."

You walked out to the car and sat down in the front seat grabbing the movie out of the glove compartment. You open the door to your car as Stan gets out on the other side. Standing in front of the car, preparing to go in, your breath hitches in the back of your throat as you see Eddie's car. Your mouth goes dry and you feel like you just want to crawl back into the car and drive home. Stan walks over to you and puts an arm around your shoulder. Suddenly he feels the same way, letting himself be affectionate like this. But when he looks down at you and sees the look on your face he throws all that aside. Stan squeezes you into his side rubbing his hand up and down your forearm. You take a deep breath and lean into him. Stan feels his heart flutter as he sees and can almost feel you finding comfort in him. You turn your head to look up to him. You would've felt the same flutter had your mind, heart, and stomach not be so focused on your ex-boyfriend and ex-best friend.

"It's gonna be alright. Right?" You ask, the smallness in your voice pained Stan. His nervousness was gone now, replaced with anger. Not enough to present on his face, but enough for him to hear your voice ring in his ears when he sees Eddie on Richie's lap when the two eventually get inside.

"Yeah. Yeah, it's gonna be fine. I promise." He unwraps his arm from and holds out his hand, palm up.

"You won't start shit with Richie or Eddie?" You said lacing your hand into Stan's, the pair of them dropping down to your sides as you start for the door. Stan gives you a smile and nods

"Promise."

You opened the door and entered the house again, this time with the movie. You handed it over to Bill then sat down on the couch next to Ben, on his other side was Beverly at the end of the couch. Mike sat down on the other side of you at the other end of the couch, Stan was sitting over in the recliner beside the couch on Bev's side. Eddie and Richie were on popcorn duty so they were in the kitchen. Far away enough from the loser's sight Richie wrapped his arms around Eddie's waist while he stood in front of the microwave waiting for the popcorn.

"Stop, Rich, they're gonna see us."

A muffled "No they're not," came from Richie who was now snuggling his head into Eddie's neck. Eddie looked around nervously for a second. When he saw no one present he relaxed into Richie and leaned his head up against the boy's who's was in his neck. The microwave dinged and Eddie jumped. Richie laughed and let go of Eddie getting a bowl from the cabinet,

"Scared of a microwave Eds?" Eddie dumped the popcorn into the bowl handing back to Richie,

"Take this dickwad. And don't call me Eds!" The rest of the losers heard their usual bickering as they entered back into Bill's living room. You gave a smile to Richie and he sat down on the floor at your feet. He handed Beverly the popcorn then grabbed your legs and threw them over his shoulders, leaning his head back. You laughed and your hands went to play with his beautiful, although messy curls.

"Stop! I worked really hard on these curls!" Stan smacked away your hand as Mike opened the door.

"I just can't!! I'm a sucker for the curls." You whined. Mike laughed, smiling at his friends,

"Come on Bev is trying to teach us yo-yo tricks." Stan let out a laugh. As you walk into the living room Bill is in front of the couch with one of Ben's yo-yo's failing to do a trick Bev is doing right next to him with ease.

"You'll get it someday Denbrough."

"H-h-how about you try it huh?" Bill sassed you, his eyebrows furrowed together, mouth in a pout. You couldn't help but chuckle at his frustration, which could mirror the frustration of a little boy or a toddler even. Your eyes move over to Ben and a smile grows big on your face as you pull Stan over to where Ben is patting the cushion next to him. As you sit down next to Ben your eyes wander toward the back of the room in reaction to your ears hearing laughter. You, obviously, didn't know Stan's eyes were following until you felt his person stiffen like a board 'It's gonna be alright. Right?' the look that you gave him and the tone in your voice haunting his brain, reminding himself to keep a lid on it. There they were right before you, Eddie sitting comfortably in Richie's lap, his legs hanging over the arm of the chair. Richie's arms holding him there securely. They were laughing at Bev doing funny tricks with her yo-yo behind Bill so he wouldn't see, still determined to get the trick right. You hadn't noticed you were staring until suddenly Eddie's eyes were staring right back into yours. Everyone else seemed to notice as a silence fell over the room. Mike coughed and you snapped your eyes down to the floor.

"So are we gonna play a game or something?" Stan asked, putting a hand at the small of your back rubbing lightly. Ben saw out of the corner of his eye. He saw how your shoulders dropped as your body visibly relaxed. You had noticed it yourself. Ben looked over at Beverly and when she noticed he started quickly shifting his eye back from her to you and Stan. Bev gave him an 'I told you so' look.

"Yeah, we got games in the closet who wants to play Clue?"

"Yes!!" You yelled. You and Bill high-fived.

Stan winced and rubbed his ear "Ow! That was my ear!"

When Richie finally got the guts to look over in your direction he wasn't expecting to see your hand caringly rest itself on the side of Stan's head

"Sorry" He heard you say with a soft laugh. One that he knew all too well. A little sign of embarrassment, but not too much that you would go shy. He could also hear the soft sympathy in your voice. He noticed something about it. Not that it was different. No, it wasn't different at all. That was the thing though; your tone wasn't even the slightest bit different from the way Richie remembers your voice sounding. Not when talking to anyone else, but when talking to him specifically. What he heard in your voice was what he had always heard in your voice whenever you would look at him with those eyes full of love and caring. 'But why would you have that tone in your voice talking to Stan,' Richie had wondered to himself. Then he saw Stanley's hand. Up at his ear when you had shouted, drop down to the small of your back. His eyes glued to Stanley Uris' thumb, as he rubbed it against the small of your back in a soothingly intimate way. It made an emotion surge throughout Richie. He didn't quite know what it was but he knew that he didn't like it.

You were searching around a bit for Richie, confused when you couldn't find him anywhere downstairs. When the movie had finished up Ben didn't feel so good so Beverly took him home. You had gone along for the ride to get some more drinks for the rest of you. When you got back to Bill's, Richie was nowhere to be seen. When you first walked into the house you went to the kitchen with Bill to put away the soda's grabbing one for you and Bev. Going back to the living room you noticed it was only Bev and Mike. 'Geez, where'd everybody go?' You thought to your self. You looked over your shoulder to find Bill headed your way. You turned around and noticed Stan on the stairs face scrunched in frustration on the phone. 'Poor thing' You assumed he was on the phone with Patty, the two of them haven't been along too well recently. You turn back around,

"Hey, Mike, you seen Richie or Eds?" He shook his head.

"Richie I don't know, but I thought Eddie was talking to Stan over there." You gave him a small smile and muttered thanks before you went over to Stan. You felt bad disturbing him on the phone but he seemed almost relieved to get out of the conversation. You stuck your hand between the banisters on the stairs and tapped a finger on Stan's knee.

"Hey, have you seen Richie?" You hesitantly ask Bev.

"He's over there by the stairs with Mike." She smiled reassuringly at you and put a hand on your shoulder. Richie saw you approach the two of them and put his head down expecting you to be there to talk to Mike. But when Mike walked away he looked up surprised.

"Hey, Rich." An awkward feeling settled in the air.

"Hi" a hint of optimism in his voice. Richie felt relieved that you were actually talking to him, although you weren't all too thrilled about it, you wanted to get it over with. Maybe help things get back to normal.

"Uh, thanks for letting me and Eds come to the party. I know you, Beverly and Mike planned it so, thanks." A pretty genuine smile mixed with a little unsettlement, not knowing what you were gonna do or say.

"Well they're your friends too, and the party is for Ben anyway so." Your voice was small and fragile. Richie's felt his body relax. He didn't know if it was because the sound of your voice made me feel like the worst person in the world or because he was relieved that you weren't yelling at him. He supposed it was a little bit of both.

"I'm surprised they all still talk to me." Upon hearing that, you immediately thought of what you overheard Bill say about Ben not talking to Eddie.

"I truly don't think they would have cut you off forever, I mean they were your friends before they were mine-"

"Yeah but your more likable" You chuckled and Richie smiled,

"The truth is they had talked to me about it and I told them I didn't want anyone taking sides. But still, I think only maybe, Ben and Bev would have given you a real silent treatment. I'm sorry that Stan kinda has."

"No, No you have nothing to be sorry for. It's all on me. But thank you. For asking them not to pick sides. It means a lot." The hallway fell silent again.

"I don't want you to get offended or anything, I truly don't mean anything by this,-" Richie was now being overly cautious with his words, he really didn't want to hurt you more than he already has. "I was just a little surprised when Stan cut me off as he did. You two never really seemed that close, now he's practically glued to your hip."

Richie's tone fell more toward anger as reached the end of his sentence, his mind thinking back to Stanley's hand on your back. A part of him added that in just to hear your answer. Had you already moved on? Is that why you were talking to him because you had moved on to Stan? Why did this upset him so much? When you answered with a little,

"Yeah, honestly me too." Richie felt not just his confusion grow but also his anger.

This wasn't like Stan. If Stan would have wanted to be in a relationship with you he would have told you. 'Well maybe she just doesn't want to tell you?' 'No.' He thought 'That couldn't be it, she sounds just as confused as I do. What was Stan getting at with her?' Richie was snapped back into reality when Eddie came bounding down the stairs loud as usual, shouting,

"Mike you're out of band-aids! You should put that on a list or something, do you know how infected cuts can get without the proper bandage or ointment?!" Richie laughed and smiled at Eddie.

"Do you even need a band-aid?" Beverly asked amused by Eddie's usual antics.

"Well, no but still!" Eddie saw you and froze, but when he saw that you were laughing a bit he relaxed.

He had been extremely nervous to come to the party. It would be the first time all eight of you would be hanging out since you had caught him and Richie. Not to mention it was a party for Ben, and Ben hadn't even talked to him since Beverly told him what happened. Eddie couldn't even count how many times he had asked Richie if it would just be better if they stayed home together. But every single time Richie would reassure him that everything would be fine, even though he was asking himself the same damn question. Eddie was practically shaking about seeing you again. He felt so guilty about going behind your back with Richie, but he couldn't help himself. He had spent all that time in pain thinking Richie didn't love him back, so when Richie actually told him that he was in love with him. It was all Eddie could think about. All the voices in his head telling him how selfish he was being, were tearing at him, but they were pushed aside. He was so tired of longing for Richie on the sidelines. He deserved happiness too. Eddie Kaspbrak was not proud in any way of how he got it, but the happiness he felt when being with Richie was something otherworldly to him. How could he let it go? How could he let something so precious and important to him, something he wanted for so long, slip through his fingers?

"Well hey, me and (Y\N) could g-g-go over to Muh-mister Keene's." Bill threw a wink in your direction

"I swear to god you throw one more fucking pregnancy test at me, Denbrough!"

Stan shouted, "What?" as the rest of you laughed. You had walked away as Richie's laughter died down when his mind had put two and two together. Richie then put his arm around Eddie and pressed a kiss to his head to try and calm himself down. 'I can't fucking believe he would do this to her!'

You laughed with the rest of them and sat back down next to Stan who was looking more confused by the second. You explained what happened at Mr.Keene's to him. All of you laugh even more when you bring up framing Bill for knocking someone up. Stan leaned over and whispered in your ear

"You did tell him we aren't actually sleeping with each other right?" You leaned over to his ear

"Of course I did. He just doesn't believe me." You both shake your heads laughing

"Bev and Ben didn't believe me when I told them either."

"Yeah, I don't think Mike does either, but honestly it's not like we would really believe them if it was the other way around or something." Stan laughed,

"I might believe Mike, but the others, probably not"

"And what are you two whispering about?" Bev wiggled her eyebrows.

"'Oh Stanley I love the way you cuddle up to me in the middle of the night!! You're such a good lover and such a strong man!!'" Bill squealed out in a girly voice.

"What the fuck!!" You shouted in between fits of laughter. The whole room was in hysterics as Bill threw his arms around Mike. Richie stood by the entrance of the living room with Eddie who was dying laughing. Richie, however, was faking a laugh, trying his hardest to keep his cool. He put on a smile on his face and gave a little chuckle as he told Eddie he was going to get a drink. Mike then threw his arms around Bill the same, playing along. The pair was then pretending to make out, their hands foolishly caressing each other's bodies as they made kissing noises. Stan hoped you were too busy laughing to see the intense blush across his cheeks as he laughed as well. Lucky for him you were doubled over in laughter and lucky for you as well, as you were also hiding a blush behind your laughing. "Is that really how you see us?" You laughed asked Bill before he could answer Richie's voice was heard loud across the living room.

"Hey, Stanley can we talk for a second?"

Stan looked over to you. The soft expression on your face almost seemed to calm him.

"Hey, do you know where Richie went?" You asked softly.

"I saw him go upstairs. I think."

"Thanks, Stan." You walk up the stairs wondering what the fuck Richie would be doing upstairs. Your eyes immediately go to Georgie's room. You always got a weird feeling from that room ever since he had died. Forgetting about Richie for a second you take a few steps closer to the door of the, now forever, young boy's bedroom. You reached your hand to the handle of the door when you heard a noise coming from Bill's room. You're head snapped around at the sudden noise. You took a deep breath and headed towards Bill's room.

"Why the hell are you in Bill's room, Richie?" you whispered to yourself. You opened up the door a crack deciding to peep on Richie in hopes of scaring him. You look into the room and see that Richie was with Eddie. Second, guessing whether or not you should go on with the scare, knowing Eddie will you chew your ass out for it, you heard your name in conversation,

"Hold on I think (Y\N) and Beverly are back." You looked in and saw Eddie going for the windows. Before he could reach one Richie grabbed his wrist and pulled Eddie back next to him on the bed.

"They went to go bring Ben home, they're totally not back yet just relax." You notice the soothing tone in Richie's voice. Usually, when Eddie is freaking out over nothing Richie just sounds annoyed. You've never really heard him be soft with Eddie like that. Which drew you to the conclusion that he was being soft for a reason. 'But why would Eddie be so worried about me and Bev coming back?' You watched as Richie put a hand on Eddie's shoulder. 'What the hell is going on here?' You continued to watch Richie's hand very closely as it traveled from Eddie's shoulder up to his neck with a thumb rubbing gently behind his ear. Your confusion grew more and more with every passing second. Eddie then put his hand up to Richie's. 'surely to swat him away' you instinctively thought. Only he didn't, instead, he gently held the other boy's hand. You could feel your throat begin to dry, slowly becoming hard to swallow. You watched as Richie leaned in and rested his forehead against Eddie's. Everything in you stiffened as you begged for it all to be over. For Eddie to say, 'what in the world are you doing?'. Or for Richie to playfully shove Eddie over messing around. For the whole scene in front of you to fade away like some sort of hallucination. Hell!, maybe even for someone to say 'what about (Y\N)?' at that point you would take anything. Any sort of hesitation or wavering. But your internal pleas would never be answered. Probably never even heard no matter how loud they were screaming from inside of you. You were forced to watch by eyes that couldn't pry themselves away from the scene before them, almost like they were watching for answers or confirmation of what seems now to be what has been happening behind your back for God knows how long. You felt your stomach drop, your heart, and it plummeting down together. As Richie, confident as ever, took Eddie into his arms connecting their lips together with such passion. Your eyes couldn't watch any longer. Before you even knew what you were doing, your hand had balled into a fist and slammed itself against the white bedroom door. Two loud bangs echoed through the house: The first one from your fist connecting with the door, the second from the door hitting the wall of Bill's bedroom. Leaving a large dent Bill would have to explain to his mother later. The two boys jumped from the sound. So had everybody downstairs. Their eyes wide faces drained of any color, you wouldn't be able to think they could get any paler. But when they realized who was at the door, who made that noise. It was almost like they had turned to ghosts. Eddie looked into the eyes of his best friend. He didn't think eyes could hold so much rage yet so much heartbreak at the same time. It was enough to make him nauseous. He would have bet you good money that at that moment he would vomit. At that point, you had started to cry. Richie stood frozen his face-melting from shock into guilt as he watched the tears stream down your face. As if this wasn't humiliating enough, being cheated on with your best friend, when you turned around to run, you were met with the confused faces of all your friends, except Ben of course.

"What happened?" Mike asked looking at you with sympathy.

"They're fucking!" You stated with anger and betrayal. Beverly looked at the two with anger.

"NO! No! We would never not while (Y\N) and I..." You couldn't hear the rest of what Richie was saying as you raced down the stairs to get out of there. Stan following in suit as Richie walked into Mike's room. Stan walked to the opposite side of the room as Richie closed Mike's bedroom door. Stan didn't know what Richie wanted with him, what he knew was that he did not want to be in that room with Richie, hell he didn't even want to be in that house with Richie. Stan didn't quite understand why he felt this fucking mad at Richie, all he knew was that he was this fucking mad at Richie. And with that much anger, he didn't know how to keep it in. Nor did he want to. Of course, Richie just wants to go back to being friends, he just wants his best friend back and everything to be back to normal. And that's what Stan thinks this whole thing is about. But boy was Stan unaware of the shit show that Richie was about to load on him. Stan stood against Mike's dresser, arms crossed waiting for Richie to spew some shit about, forgiveness or going back to normal, starting over. His eyes were almost already in the back of his head just thinking about it. Stan was starting to question just truly naive Richie was thinking things could just go back to nor-

"What the fuck do you think you're doing taking advantage of (Y\N) like that!"

Hold up, wait, WHAT! Stan looked at Richie like he had grown three heads, eye sharp like daggers,

"What in the actual hell are you talking about?" his voice was cold and stern. Stan could not believe what Richie had just said to him. How fucking dare Richie of all people accuse him of taking advantage of (Y\N)! Richie flailed

"I saw how she was with you, I heard what Bill said! How could you be so fucking carel-" Stan wouldn't even let Richie finish that last word.

"Don't you even fucking say it." Stan may have looked calm before, but now you could see everything in his demeanor change. Sharp, anger-filled eyes, clenched jaw, clenched fists, with tall erect posture. Richie swallowed stopping for a second. There was still nothing changing his mind on what he believed Stan to be doing.

"What is wrong with you, why would even think it's ok to just use (Y\N) for sex!?-" Stan was fueled with rage, he couldn't believe that Richie would think that. He has known Stan for years, and after all this time, this is the conclusion he makes about him. He watched as Richie shouted as he paced back and forth, spewing his mouth like a damn hypocrite, arms flying through the air and in Stan's face. Stan had just about had enough,

"Cuz, of course, it never crossed your mind for even a second that I might actually care for her!" Richie was just about out of breath with anger, small pants were in between his words as he said:

"If you really cared about her you would have left her alone not taken advantage of her while she's vulnerable." Stan didn't even need time to process that sentence before his mind had decided what would come out of his mouth. The truth. The last sentence to come out of Stan's mouth was something that Richie, the rest of the losers listening through the door, and LEAST of all Stan expected to hear. It was like something in him just snapped. The whole conversation, if you could call it that, Stan was able to keep his composure. He was never really one to yell, but something had just taken over him as he walked up to Richie,

"Oh really, you want to talk to me about caring about (Y\N), wake up and smell the roses Richie YOU FUCKING CHEATED ON HER!!! WITH HER BESTFRIEND!! YOU ARE THE REASON SHE'S IN A VULNERABLE PLACE! DON'T YOU STAND HERE AND TRY TO TELL ME THAT I DON'T CARE ABOUT HER YOU PIECE OF SHIT! I'M THE ONE THAT FUCKING LOVES HER!"

They do say it makes you crazy. That's exactly what happened with Stan, over the year and a half that Eddie introduced her to the group and Richie and her starting dating, Stanley Uris had fallen in love with her. And it had made him crazy, either he wasn't able to admit it to himself, having had both been in relationships at the time of the meeting and falling for the young lady, or he was just that stupid and blind that couldn't see he was in love with (Y\N) (Y\L\N). Stan walked over to the door, twisting the handle, looking straight ahead avoiding all eye contact with anybody, walked out the door. (Y\N) trying to catch up right behind him.

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abandonedlefteye · 4 years

Text

Derry 1988- Part One (Losers club x reader)

Summary: This is inspired by the book ‘11/22/63’. The reader is an average girl from the year 2020 but accidentally travels into a parallel universe and finds herself in Derry 1988 where she meets the losers club, and tries to change their fate.

Warnings: Spoilers (IT, and IT: Chapter 2), Swearing, Violence (Bowers gang)

“DON’T LISTEN TO HIM GEORGIE!”

“STAN DON’T DO IT!”

“MOVE OUT OF THE WAY EDDIE!”

“......this can’t be the end”

**********

Summer boredom was just about killing 17 year old Y/n Y/l/n. She spent most of her days either on her phone or watching her favourite movies. Her most favourite movie however had to be ‘IT’, she didn’t know why exactly but it was something about the characters, how she wished she could be a part of that world, even if it was a horror movie, a tragic one after all.

She had just finished watching IT: CH2 for what felt like the 5th time since it came out. Her eyes red from crying at the death of not one, but two characters that she for some reason felt so close to.

Y/n closed her laptop as she got out of her bed and walked into the hallway. She had just moved into a new house with her aunt a few days prior. Her current room was just a bed and...well that was it. Her aunt had been raising her for as long as she could remember since her parents passed away in a car accident when she was just a baby.

Deciding it was time she explored the area, Y/n texted her aunt saying she’d be back by sunset and started to put her shoes on. She was wearing tight jeans matched with a cropped t-shirt as she made her way out the door.

Y/n then rode her bike around the small town of Windsville (made up), soon stopping at an ice cream store that was located in a plaza that consisted of no other stores; but instead a dentists office...how ironic. She got her favourite which was one scoop of chocolate chip cookie dough in a cup, because she hated the cone. As she sat down and looked out the window she noticed how old the buildings were and how much the area lacked of greenery. The last thing she wanted was to go from living in sunny California with all her friends to being in a dark sketchy town where she had yet to see anyone that looked under the age of 50; That was until she noticed she was quite obviously being watched by a boy around her age.

Y/n slightly turned her head to face the boy. He had curly dark brown hair that was almost black. It looked completely disheveled as if he had never brushed it in his life, and bright blue eyes. He was dressed in black jeans and a grey cardigan, underneath was a graphic t shirt that read ‘windsville library club’. As she caught him staring he gave her a warm smile, which she returned back although she still felt a bit creeped out.

He noticed her getting uncomfortable and decided to speak up “Hey I’m Cosmo. Sorry I didn’t mean to look weird it’s just that you seem new” He told her as he went to sit next her. She didn’t mind though as she was dying to meet someone interesting.

“New?” she asked.

“Yeah. Well I mean, this is a small town and I’ve lived her my whole life so I think I’d remember seeing someone my age. We are rare you know” He chuckled trying to break the ice.

“I noticed” She smiled. “I’m Y/n, I just moved here a couple of a days ago”.

“Really? I didn’t even know there were any houses for sale here” He stated in slight confusion.

“Oh, well I live on the corner house on Castlelane” She replied while finishing the last spoonful of her ice cream.

She then looked up to notice his eyes go wide as he suddenly froze up.

She knew this Cosmo kid sounded weird, but it was something about the way that he looked as if in fear from just the name of her street that gave her a feeling so eerie she couldn’t even seem to describe it.

“Is something wrong?” She asked enthralled by his reaction.

“I, I don’t think I should say anything” He stutterered as he suddenly got up and walked out of the store.

Okay. This is way too weird now Y/n thought to herself. She was definitely not the kind of person that would let someone leave her with all that confusion, so she decided to grab her bike and run after him.

“Wait! Cosmo!” she shouted as she caught up with him. “Okay now you HAVE to tell me what’s going on, please?” she begged.

“I don’t know I really shouldn-“

“PLEASEEE” she started to scream, catching the attention of an elderly couple walking down he sidewalk, they both gave the two teens dirty glares.

“Agh okay okay fine...just promise you won’t tell anyone I told you this?” he stopped in his tracks as he stuck out his pinky finger.

She chuckled a bit until she realized that he was completely serious, and then slowly wrapped her finger around his. “I promise”.

“Alright, now believe what you want but for as long as I’ve lived in this town it’s been a known fact that everyone in the house you’re living in right now...goes missing.”

Oh wow. Classic. As cool as it sounds Y/n knew there was no way her life could be interesting enough to sound like the plot of just about hundreds, if not thousands of horror and thriller movies. But at the same time they all did end the same way: owners of the house don’t take the rumours seriously, and then they go missing too. Y/n decided she rather bruise her ego than be a missing person.

“Let’s Say I believe this conspiracy-

“Not a conspiracy, it’s a fact” he interrupted.

“Okay..So let’s say I believe your fact. Why do you think that is? Ghosts? Demons?” She questioned him.

“Well, I don’t exactly know but nobody’s lived in that house for like 10 years, it’s gotta be cursed or something i’m telling you.” he tried to explain “it’s like..someone would move in, and by like a week they’d just be gone into thin air, but all their stuff would be the exact same”

“Hm..I mean if they all just coincidentally decided to move, why would they all leave their stuff behind?” She thought out loud.

“Exactly right? I’m telling you there’s some weird shit going on in that house, you better be careful” He told her.

She then felt a buzz in her pocket. She picked up her phone to see she had 2 missed calls from her aunt. It had been past sunset but Y/n didn’t seem to notice.

“Shit. I have to go...I’ll talk to you later?” She told him as she hopped onto her bike.

“I’ll be there” he called out as he pointed to the town library. Y/n gave him a thumbs up as she rode down the street.

***********

It was now about 3am as Y/n was tossing and turning around in her bed. After her conversation with Cosmo she couldn’t bring herself to sleep. She wasn’t one to get scared over things, especially not ghosts or demons. But it was something about the situation. People going missing, how it was completely unknown what happened to them that made her feel uneasy.

After about an hour of trying to sleep but failing miserably, Y/n decided to get out of bed again and get a glass of warm milk, something that helped her when she was younger and would get nightmares. She made her way down the stairs slowly as she noticed herself checking behind her and in every room, as if something was going to come and attack her any second. The fear had definitely gotten to her.

As she waited for her glass of milk to heat up in the microwave she jumped when she heard a huge crash in her basement, as if someone had fallen. Panicked, Y/n rushed down the basement stairs calling after what she assumed to be her injured aunt, but instead she found nobody at all. She then walked down the dark and empty room as she realized she was alone. Feeling goosebumps rush throughout her neck and arms Y/n quickly decided to walk back up the stairs.

As she went up the first step she suddenly heard a voice call her name from the end of the dark room, groaning in pain, the voice sounded like someone was injured very badly.

“Y/n.....y/n help me please hurry!”

“Aunt Jane?....A,Are you there?” she called as she walked down the room trying to see as much as she could in the pitch black. Suddenly she reached the end of the room and noticed a wooden door that was opened slightly. She opened the door and walked in to see a figure in crouched in the corner crying.

“Aunt Jane what happened are you okay?!” Y/n called out approaching the figure, however she was walking very slowly because in the back of her head Cosmo’s words kept repeating. She knew this could be a trap, but what if it really just was her aunt? It sounded like her. She couldn’t leave her alone if she was hurt, that’s just the kind of person Y/n was.

She slowly crouched down to the figure that had it’s back away from her as it was crying into the corner.

“Aunt-“ she spoke as she reached her arm out to the figure but was interrupted as it quickly turned around revealing the face of not her aunt, but rather a terrifying clown, one that seemed all too familiar.

Before she could say the name of who/what she knew was in front of her, everything went black.

**********

After the darkness came a shining bright light under the eyelids of Y/n. She was almost sure she had to be dead, that this must be heaven and she was brutally murdered and left to die in a room she didn’t even know existed. That was until she opened her eyes.

She was no longer on the cold black ground of the mystery room, but instead she found herself laying on a field, a beautiful one as a matter of fact. Y/n looked around and noticed the bright blue sky and shining sun. Confusion had hit her as she knew that there was know way Windsville could have an area so full of life, but she was still trying to put two and two together on how she ended up there until she looked down. Instead of her pyjama shorts and tank top she now had on overall shorts, and a lilac tshirt underneath, an outfit she would never think to wear considering how out of date it is.

Y/n decided this had to be a dream. There was no way she went from her basement floor being attacked by what she thought to be Pennywise, to going through a wardrobe change and ending up in the middle of a bright green field of grass. But it all felt too real. She pinched the skin on top of her hand over and over again.

“Wake up wake up wake up” She whispered to herself repeatedly expecting to be back in her own bed.

“Hey! who is that?”

“Where? I don’t see anyone”

“Over there dumbass, it’s a girl!”

...Turns out Y/n wasn’t dreaming after all.

**********

A/n: Part 2?

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spicemommy · 5 years

Text

reddie fic recs

no particular order

Men of Fall by kaboomslang - Rated E - 7K

Do you remember? He watches his own hand slide closer along the armrest. Do memories transfer by touch, in this fucked up magic town? Remember, Richie, please, and tell me I wasn’t imagining things.

Bright as yellow by speakslow - Rated E - 120K

“ ‘Remember that hot guy I couldn’t stop turning around to stare at while watching the movie? Y’know, the one I stalked? He’s being hilarious in my math class full of nerds.’ You honestly think that’s my fault, Eds?”

Eddie felt his cheeks heating up, because Richie was right about all of it. Well, most of it. “My name is Eddie, not Eds. And I didn’t stal–”

“Nice to meet you, Eddie. See, isn’t that better? Eddie and Richie, Richie and Eddie. R plus E. It has a nice ring to it.”

wonder violet by belby - Rated M - 74K

"Right." Eddie's not sure what to think. "Well, thanks, for sticking up for me." Eddie's also not sure if he means that, but it feels like something he should say.

"Yeah, 'course," Richie replies. "You're my sister's best friend."

heaven isn’t too far away by reddieforlove - Rated E - 14K

Eddie has a problem. To fix it, he goes to extreme measures and calls a phone sex hotline. Little does he know that the person who he matches up with will change everything.

Let’s Hear it For the Boy by sloppybitch - Rated E - 9K

Eddie’s just trying to see if he’s not alone when he downloads Grindr on his phone. It’s by pure, terrifying coincidence that one of the first messages he receives on there is from none other than Richie freaking Tozier.

Long story short:

trashmouth;) (11:03PM): oh me, oh my. fancy seeing u here

Eddie (11:33PM): holy FUCKING SHIT.

AND

Let’s Give the Boy a Hand by sloppybitch - Rated E - 24K

After finding each other on Grindr and sharing a couple of saucy texts and a phone call that would make a nun faint, Richie and Eddie find each other in the clubhouse, and they... talk. Sure, they talk. Let’s call it talking.

Beverly, meanwhile, discovers that none of the Losers have ever gotten drunk, and what’s being a teenager without breaking a few drinking laws? Ben has a free house, and Eddie has never been more afraid of a game of Truth or Dare in his entire fucking life.

AND

Let’s Hear It For My Man! by sloppybitch - Rated E - 47K

Eddie has never been in a relationship before Richie, and boy, is he paying for it. He's never been so worked up before; hormones high and flying ever since he'd had his first taste of him - he can't stop.

When Richie mumbles a warm, deep-rooted wish into Eddie's ear on the night of their one month anniversary, there's little else that Eddie can think about. Mind and body consumed by his boyfriend, Eddie formulates a plan: do everything in his power to make their first time as perfect as possible.

He wants Richie to fuck him.

He wants Richie to make love to him.

Fuck. He loves him. Fuck.

The Power of Sexting by piginawig - Rated E - 4K

Richie accidentally sends Eddie a shirtless picture. Things escalate from there.

Or, Richie and Eddie play Gay Chicken: Sexting Edition.

you’re allowed to own a sex toy (you’re even allowed to use it) by cloudassless- Rated E - 8K

Arms laden with candy, Eddie takes the stairs two at a time, balancing his precious cargo. He elbows the bedroom door out of his way and starts to say, "We don't even have 3 Musketeers, you picky asshole," but the words fizzle and die on his lips when he enters his room.

Richie is sitting cross-legged with his back against the headboard, nodding his head distractedly to the beat of the music. His glasses are pushed up on the top of his head, and his long, pale fingers are spinning Eddie's vibrator like it's a twirling baton.

fellas, is it gay to jack a bro off? by didsw - Rated E - 10K

They’ve skipped class to do this. This; meaning the two of them sneaking off from fourth period to blow each other behind the school, down near where the property ends and the grass starts to run high.

It didn’t start off so crass, with Richie’s pants hoisted around his waist and his head thumping against the brick of the school. He’s completely out in the open and shivering because he left his windbreaker in his locker, warm only where Eddie’s hand and Eddie’s mouth is on him, fuck. It’s completely ridiculous. Absurd. Insane. And now, apparently, it’s the new normal.

Or: Eddie and Richie are Totally Straight FWBs

Third Time’s the Charm by Mackintosh14 - Rated E - 17K

Eddie squeezed his hand, not knowing what to say. Somehow, knowing that it was temporary amnesia made him feel a lot better. The other man squeezed back, and smiled, but it was a complicated smile. It looked like it hurt.

"You . . ." said Eddie, taking a stab at who the man must be. "Are you my . . . boyfriend?"

The man froze, then scoffed, looking at him with saucer-wide eyes.

(In other words, Eddie wakes up in a hospital just outside of Derry with no memory of who he is or what happened to him.)

Things That Happen After Eddie Lives by IfItHollers - Rated E - 107K

In a world where Richie manages to save Eddie from It after the deadlights, they still have problems on their to-do list. Featuring everything from Derry to Los Angeles—Richie Tozier's murder trial, Eddie Kaspbrak's divorce proceedings, bedsharing of the platonic and non-platonic varieties, an investigation of magic, a truly disgusting séance, the quintessential morosexual road trip, and OH MY GOD THEY WERE ROOMMATES.

Zero Characters Left by stellarbisexual - Rated E - 44K

Eddie works in social media at a tech start-up in Boston, and Richie's been hired to do some video production for the company.

Characters are aged-up to their late twenties, and this takes place in 2017.

Fall Away From Me (I Just Can’t Take It) by The_lazy_eye - Rated E - 19K

It’s okay, though, Eddie tells himself. It’s all fine. This is part of their arrangement. This is a casual thing they have going. It’s his own stupid fault for catching feelings for someone he agreed to casually fuck. Especially when that person is his best friend from childhood.

Stay for the Storm by inoubliable - Rated E - 20K

“Richie and Eddie had become friends almost on sight. Since they met, most of Eddie's time in Los Angeles has involved Richie in some way.

It's a little different, now that they're both famous.

It's a little different, now that they're sleeping together.

Well, to be fair, they've been sleeping together for a long time, but. No one knows, not even their friends. Eddie has been very careful about that. It's just not the sort of publicity he needs.

So when Beverly calls him that sunny Thursday morning, the last thing he expects her to say is, "You're fucking Richie?”

Havana by chucknovak - Rated E - 32K

Eddie Kaspbrak, a senior in college, lives a closeted life. That life, however, is challenged when he meets Richie Tozier on spring break.

Leftovers by sloppybitch - Rated M - 5K

“It’s hard to stay away from him when it’s the only thing that keeps him stable.

Everybody seems to have settled back into life so easily. Ben and Beverly are sharing a room now, did you know? Mike’s already booked his flights to Florida and Bill’s catching the bus to the airport at noon tomorrow.

Richie’s just floating now, tour postponed and agent fucking pissed at him — and floating? Probably not the best word to use right now, but fuck you, is what Richie says to that, he’s reclaiming it. That’s right, Richie’s reclaiming the word floating like it’s the word queer or something, and fuck you, he can say that too.”

Richie can’t forget what he saw in the deadlights, and the echo of Eddie’s potential dying words only seems to quieten whenever Richie’s as close to him as possible.

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har-rison-s · 4 years

Text

heaven: 16

nothing lasts forever

request/plot: Stan x Reader where they were together back in Derry and kind of forgot about each other after moving away but they always had a void in their lives. And then when Stan is just about to do it after Mikes call his phone rings and it’s you and you’re crying after just getting off the phone with Mike to come to Derry. You both end up going back and seeing each other at the restaurant and you guys just catch up after all these years that passed and old feelings come back.

A/N: Hi! Part sixteen already. Whew, last one was quite long, wasn’t it? It’s one of my best works ever, I think. Has me feeling so many emotions, and quite strongly, idk. Welp, here goes one of the last chapters. I still haven’t decided how many more chapters there will be, but I just know this Heaven is nearing its end. I hope you all like how this turns out. I’m still a bit conflicted between a few characters and plot points of the ending, like I have a few versions of the ending in mind, and I wanna execute all and none of them at the same time. If I decide on this one ending that’s the most strong out of all of them, I hope y’all won’t kill me. I just finished rewatching the 1990 mini-series. Damn, that’s messy. The dialogues, the special effects… Don’t even get me started on the acting. Anyways, happy quarantine reading! Love you lots <3

warnings: long as always hahahah, wounds, blood, food, nothing else

word count: 3.7k

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Gif credit goes to owner, which isn't me! (Also, it's raining in the gif but idc! Y'all know it's morning and sunny as hell in Derry, Maine rn!)

“Could we have six menus and a first-aid kit?” Richie Tozier asks the young waitress who has approached their miserable-looking table. Her eyebrows raise and she scans the eight adults to see why they would need a first aid kit—not that it’s any of her business—and she screams, coming across Eddie’s bleeding side. The Losers flinch at the high pitch of her scream.

“You need to get to the hospital!” She says, tears streaming down her face. Now this one’s quite emotional for six o’clock in the morning, the Losers think in unison and exchange looks between themselves, finding it imposible to say any words at the current moment.

“I promise, he’s fine.” Richie tells the girl, looking at her through his thick glasses.

“It’s just a scratch.” Eddie says non-chalantly, and the waitress thinks to herself that these really are a bunch of crazy people, as she presumed when they walked inside the diner. “Besides, I’m a doctor. Could you please bring the menus and a.... uh, a first-aid kit?” He squints and tries his best at a smile at the crying waitress.

She gathers herself, wipes her tears and smiles as wide as up to her ears. “Right away.” She says in a squeaky voice and leaves their table. The Losers exchange looks between themselves once again, overwhelmed by the events of the night and by the heavily emotional waitress that they have to deal with. They huddle closer together to one another in their red-and-white leather seated booth.

The place smells of freshly cooked food, coffee and cigarettes. Oh, they’ll all definitely have coffee. A mood and energy booster, that’s for sure, that’s what they need. Though none of them are sure they even have such a thing as a ‘mood’, or ever will. This morning they’re certainly not in any kind of mood. To be completely honest, the Losers feel quite hollow. They feel completed, and they feel a lot of love and pride, but they feel empty inside, as if there’s a hole in their chests and it keeps getting more hollow.

Stanley’s head rests on Y/N’s shoulder, his hair fallen against her delicate neck. She runs her fingers slowly through his semi-dry curls. Only the roots have dried, and slowly the draught moves further through his jet black strands, taking its time. Stanley places his hand over Y/N’s in his lap, their fingers intertwining seconds after. She lays a kiss on his forehead, and he closes his eyes. You can be at peace.

Y/N looks onto Eddie and Richie, both anxiously waiting for that requested first-aid kit. But they look more peaceful than ever before and Y/N thinks, they all must look that way. Richie’s arm has fallen with natural force around Eddie’s shoulders, and Eddie holds that slack hand in his own, creating a lock of security around himself. Richie’s other hand is drumming against the marbled surface of the table, and he looks at Bev and Ben across the table.

They’re talking to themselves abotu something so quietly that no one can hear them. Their foreheads are pressed together and they’re playing with each other’s hands softly, playfully. Bev’s crimson locks touch Ben’s cheek ever so softly and he closes his eyes. January embers. He opens his eyes again and looks strongly into Bev’s. My heart burns there, too.

Bill tries not to watch them too strikingly. But it’s hard, his first supposed crush and love sitting at the other end of the table with his best friend, completely in their own world, completely in love. It’s hard for his heart, to be precise. His mind knows better. You know better, Bill, you have a wife that you love and, now that you think of it, looks a lot like Bev here. And Beverly’s happy. So are the rest of your friends. You’ll go home and you’ll be happy, too. Back home with Audra, her movies, your novels and their shitty endings.

Maybe I don’t want to go home, he finds himself thinking. And he’s a bit surprised by that thought. Hmm. What does that mean? Maybe I could live in Derry, spend the rest of my days here, watching as the town, hopefully, evolves, changes. Maybe he can live with Mike now. Bill looks over at his friend. Mike’s smiling, smiling for his friends and his own self, but he’s not looking at them. Mike is probably gonna stay, isn’t he? So what’s so bad about me staying here, and with him?

Actually Bill doesn’t even wanna think about going back what’s been, for the last thirteen years, considered home. The thought of it makes him sick, for some reason. Maybe he’s not yet ready to think about it all, think about the possibility of going back to England and telling Audra they’re moving to Derry. Yeah, she is not gonna like it at all. And he’s not gonna like that she won’t like it. The thought of it makes him sick, as already said.

“Here are your menus and the kit.” The waitress has returned, and she doesn’t look shabby anymore. She lays out the menus on the table with her delicate, seemingly teenage hands, and puts the first-aid kit on the table in front of Eddie.

“Thanks so much.” Eddie speaks his thanks the loudest, and the young girl leaves again. Eddie immediately opens the red box and searches for disinfectant and bandages. He finds a bottle of Equate antiseptic and hands it to Richie, continuing his search for cotton gauze and pads, assuming he won’t find plasters as big as he needs in here.

Richie unscrews the antiseptic and lifts up Eddie’s shirt. Jeez Louise, it’s a bloodbath. Eddie’s started to bleed onto the seat. Y/N sees their desperate situation and hands the box of tissues on the windowsill to Richie. But Richie gives them to Mike, so he can help clean the wound while Richie cleans it with wipes Eddie’s found in the box.

“You’re losing a shit ton of blood, dude, you feeling okay?” Richie asks Eddie, carefully cleaning the scrape in his side. Eddie winces here and there, and even draws back when it really stings.

“I’m fine.” Eddie replies in that same non-chalant voice he’s used for the past half hour. “It’s not that much, anyway.” Richie shakes his head at that statement. They’re almost done with cleaning the skin and wound. The blood still flows, though.

“We’re going to the hospital later.” Richie states in a soft, commanding voice. Eddie doesn’t really pay mind to Richie’s words, having trouble connecting to thoughts about the next five minutes. He’s gathered some bandages from all that he could find in the kit. Then Eddie looks down at his left side and groans.

“Looks like something took a bite out of me.” He states, looking at the obvious strike in his skin and a bit further than that. There’s other layers visible already, a darker red than his skin. Muscle, that is, and he can see some blood vessels too. Oh, dear God, he’s going to faint. The blood flow is not stopping.

“Be thankful it didn’t.” Richie reminds him. Eddie takes some medical wool and gives it to Richie. He puts it, as softly as he can, directly into the wound after it’s disinfected, to hopefully stop the blood drip for at least a while. Eddie winces, and his face scrunches so much he feels tears squirting out at the corners of his eyes. That is not a nice feeling at all.

Mike presses his hand on the wool to keep it there while Richie gets bandages from Eddie. He puts the biggest plasters at the top and bottom of the wound, securing the wool, and Mike lets go. Then Eddie adds more wool, puts tissues and bandages over it, and Richie helps him secure it all with gauze. Quite messy, but for the time until they’re in the hospital, this will have to last. Richie cleans up the blood around their make-shift work place and puts Eddie’s shirt back down. They throw the tissues in a trash can under their table—wow, they have that kind of thing here?—and lean against the sofa, both tired, more tired than before.

“No staph infections in our lifetime.” Richie states between yawns. The ones who were there, in the back alley where the two holy words were spoken first, laugh. But Mike and Bev only share looks of confusion. Richie lays a kiss atop of Eddie’s head and embraces him back in his arms. Now they have time to look at what the menu’s offering.

Y/N opens the menu in front of her and Stanley so they can both read it at once. Stanley sighs. “I don’t have my glasses.” He mewls. The words printed on the laminated paper are blurry to him, and he realises his obstacles are either back at the hotel or lost in the over-flown sewers or the underground lair. He blinks his eyes twice, but he still can’t read anything except for Derry Diner Menu, which are much larger and in bold.

Y/N tilts her head to rest on his. “Breakfast. Pancakes - ones with caramel, ones with chocolate, ones with bacon and cheese, ones with berries and fruit, ones with ice cream…” She reads out loud. “Country breakfast - ham, eggs, fries, baked beans. Eggs Benedict, Lobster Benedict, Irish Benedict, Eggs Florentine, waffles, steak & eggs.” She sighs. “Anything strike your fancy?”

Stanley shrugs. “Keep reading.” He says, and feels his eyelids and chest heavy. Her voice is so sweet and soothing. Y/N nods.

“Breakfast burrito, mac and cheese, mac and cheese with lobster,” she widens her eyes, “chili, chicken pot pie… turkey, roast beef sandwhiches… sea food, side orders…” she flips through the menu, which requires to move the arm that’s around Stanley. And she finds that his body is limp against hers. She worriedly looks down.

His breath passes through his slightly parted lips, his eyes are closed and his face is completely relaxed. He’s asleep. Y/N almost laughs into his face, but she turns away and suppresses her giggles. Her friends look at her. “He’s fallen asleep.” She tells them in a whisper, pointing down at Stanley. They nod and most of them smile. No wonder. They feel like doing the same, and they’re actually on the verge, if they weren’t concentrating on reading the menu and hoping for coffee soon.

Y/N stops her giggling fit and looks down at the menu again. What do I want, what do I want… “What are you guys gonna order?” She asks her friends.

“Probably pancakes.” Comes from Bev, who’s decided for both her and Ben.

“Us too.” Mike informs. “Bacon?” He asks.

“Berries.” Ben responds.

“We’re gonna get that country breakfast or whatever.” Richie says. “To get proper fat, you know, grow into Eddie’s mom.” He explains further and everyone giggles, even Eddie himself.

Y/N hums. “I’ve got no idea. I want everything, but it just won’t fit.” She states and Bill chuckles. “I know what to order for Stanley, but myself…”

“Take the same and stop working your brain.” Mike suggests. Y/N looks at him.

“It’s worked enough for the past hours.” Bill supports his argument. Her eyes shift to Bill, and then she looks down at the menu again, a smile on her face now.

“I guess it’s just that easy now.” She admits and closes the menu, putting it on the table instead. Making decisions really is that easy now. She leans back into the seat, Stanley’s body moving with hers. He gets more comfortable while sleeping, his face nuzzling into her neck, tickling her a bit, and his arms going around her, securing themselves together at her waist. Y/N smiles and hugs him back, resting her cheek on his curls. She closes her eyes.

“What will you have?” Bill asks her and she opens an eye to look at him, her own eyelids feeling sort of heavy now. “Before you join him.” He whispers, smiling. She smiles back.

“Love you, Bill.” She tells him sincerely. “Eggs Benedict for us both.” She says and Bill nods. “And coffee, too. Both black, but two sugars in Stanley’s.” She’s surprised herself that she still knows how he likes his coffee, or which breakfast option he’d always choose. It’s like it’s basic knowledge now, something that’s imprinted in her mind and feels like it’s been that way since she can remember. She closes her eyes again and lets her exhaustion take over. She wants to rest, just for a little bit, just lay with Stanley for a while.

She did join him in sleeping for a while. Bill wakes her up when the food and coffees have arrive, starting to tickle her, Ben doing the same to Stanley. The two adults jolt awake, eyes wide and confused, and make their friends laugh.

“Morning, sleepyheads.” Richie nods to them with a smile. Stanley nods right back and Y/N and he both right themselves, sitting up straight. Y/N moves her hair behind her ear and Stanley flattens his shirt. They look down at the fresh food in front of them, though their vision and look on their environement is still hazy from the good-as-hell nap they just woke up from.

“Bone, apple, tit, was it?” Richie suggests as a toast for the Losers’ diner breakfast. Everyone laughs once more, but they clink their coffee cups together, repeating Richie’s ridiculous words and they laugh again, harder this time. Languages have never been Richie’s strongest side.

They all drink coffee in unison and regain some amount energy at that, then delve into their steaming breakfast which fill their noses up to the maximum with utterly irresistible aromas. Richie, like the beast he is, devours half of his plate in the first few minutes while everyone else devours their food bit by bit. But everyone is so endorsed in eating that they don’t pay mind to their friends, for the time they’re eating they even forget they’re with their friends, lest someone else entirely. Food is very good right now. Heavenly, if you might.

When they’re done, they all slump into their seats, letting out groans of content and holding their bellies. “For a diner, that was really good.” Bill says. Y/N laughs. Bill, Eddie, Stanley, Ben—cross that, all of them, except herself and Mike, have grown used to dining at fancy restaurants where it costs to even reserve a table, grown used to making great mega-dishes at home for themselves. They’ve grown used to business events with crazy dinners and a wide range of appetisers. Champagne, wine, whiskey of the highest classes. So this is entirely out of their usual menu, and Bill is, of course, taking it like a snob. Hence Y/N laughed.

She and Mike have not lived the life their friends have. Not that it’s bad lives they’ve been living upto this point, just different, way different from most of the Losers Club. Y/N hasn’t become a famous writer, architect or fashion designer, neither has Mike. So for one, their daily routine differs, and two, their eating habits differ from their friends’. Diner food may be the lowest of them all, considered so by the highest class of society, but Y/N can safely admit that she likes diner food and doesn’t mind having it once in a while. And what can Mike have in this shithole town, anyway, other than make-believe restaurant meals, takeout and diners? Neither of them mind eating here now or any other time.

“I want more.” Y/N manages to croak out, and everyone laughs. “Anyone up for a sundae split?”

“Ugh, we’re really gonna get fat.” Eddie sighs.

“Haystack’s gonna have a come-back!” Richie announces and changes his face into an excited expression. But he still makes his friends laugh, including Ben himself. His laughter rumbles deep and low like a bear’s roar.

“I’ll have a sundae split with you, Y/N/N.” Beverly says, then. Y/N smiles at her.

“Anyone up for a Diet Coke and salad?” Mike asks now, and they all laugh again. Richie joins the girls for a sundae split, and the rest agree with Mike’s offer.

“Wait, wasn’t Y/N working in a diner for a while? In, like, high school?” Eddie asks now, as they wait for the waitress, and he looks at Y/N. She looks at him, tired and full from the eggs, but nods.

“I was.” She confirms. “Not this one, though, the one in the center of town.” She leans towards the table to sit proper and rests her elbows on the surface. She crosses her arms and puts her chin on top of them. “After Bowers and Cockstetter were… out of the picture, I had the freedom to work in the skirt the diner required me to.” She recalls. Those boys were always onto her and Beverly, while they were still alive, which made it hard for them to ever wear something remotely feminine. They always got some sort of cat-calls, and groping was the worst of what would come from them. “Jesus…”

“What scumbags they were.” Beverly joins in, also leaning against the table. She moves her hair out of her face, and looks to Y/N, but Ben’s worried gaze catches her eye instead. She turns to him. He only reaches for her hand with his own. I’m here now.

“You working in a diner was the best thing, Y/N.” Richie says, putting emphasis on ‘best’. She looks at him now and smiles, remembering how stoked they all were for free food and the food that she actually made. Mostly deserts. Stanley’s arm makes its way around her waist. She leans closer to him. “I mean, the birthday parties there were amazing. Nothing could top them.”

“Wow, Rich, even college and work parties?” Mike asks, and they both chuckle.

“You bet your fur, Mikey,” Richie says, patting his friend’s shoulder. He looks reminiscent for a second, his head hangs down, and then he tries to put it into words, “you know, I think—I think because childhood, and teenage years, were the best part of my life. I mean, I’m forty now, so I’m old enough to say shit like that, you know, but… It’s true. I know that I thought it then and I know it now—those were the best parties of my life.” He admits and looks around at his friends. “Because—because I was still young, and because it was the best childhood, I think, any kid could wish for. Even counting in all the shame, the fear, and IT. And because I was with you guys.”

A silence falls upon the Losers Club. But they smile at Richie, and at each other, realising that’s true. Those were the best years of their lives, and actually, taking the horrible parts, the best childhood any child could wish for. The best friends anyone could wish for to spend that childhood and those confusing, difficult teenage years with. Without each other, they wouldn’t be the same, and they wouldn’t be as strong and as full of love and, perhaps, belief.

“You know…” Stanley starts to say, they look at him, “nothing lasts forever.” He states, shaking his head with a dreamy look in his eyes. Nothing does seem to last forever, that is true. But he has a feeling of differing in opinion with his own statement. Nothing lasts forever—the monster they thought had lived under Derry forever, eaten its kids and other residents, cast a spell on the adults and the whole air of Derry, is now dead. So that doesn’t last forever. The promise they made—it is fulfilled now, meaning it won’t last forever, either. It lasted as long as needed to unite them all again. But this… what they have…

“Except for friendship.” Y/N says, looking at him. “And love.” Yes, friendship and love. Those will last forever. The love they have for each other will outlive all their future deaths, all their future kids’ deaths, and their kids’ deaths. This love, and this bond, it will last forever. It will always be somewhere in the predicted long life of the Earth and humanity. It will fly with the wind, blossom in flowers and rosy cheeks, it will swim with the ocean and breathe with the air. Always.

“And love.” Eddie says it with Y/N in unison. They smile at each other. Love. What a wonderful thing. It might as well be a living creature, like fear was. Only much stronger.

“Desire.” Ben suggests. Beverly closes her eyes and leans her head on his shoulder. I know, Ben. But we’re here now. All the desire pent up in teenage and adult years seems much lighter now. For Beverly, Ben and for Richie and Eddie, too. And for Stanley and Y/N. All their desire towards each other has finally been released, even if the door to it is only open in a narrow slit now. Desire might as well live in all eight of them, desire for each other, desire to meet each other again, desire to have that unbreakable friendship again. Desire for that lived in their hearts all these empty years, it was unknown and mysterious, a feeling they could not guess. Now it’s known, and out in the open, nothing to hide from each other. Or anyone else, for that matter. They’re proud.

The Losers Club fall silent, but comfortably so. They’re finally in a comfortable state with themselves and each other, and with the world around them. Strange, vile and ignorant as it may be, the world is truly amazing, though, and much bigger than they all thought. Brought them together that one summer, made a bond that will last forever. They’ve got a lot to thank it for. But they’ve also got every reason to kick the world in the butt and other places.

For now, they’ll let it slide. For now, they’re only focused on being in the diner, getting desert and then showering. Most importantly, for now, they’ve got each other, safe and healthy, and that’s all they need. That will do.

“Anything else you’d like to order?”

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Heaven tag-list: @lovvliies @kaspbrak-uris @happy-at-home @jars-of–jupiter @violetzendaya @veronicapuff

Let me know if you want to be tagged!

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iamleavingthisfandom · 4 years

Text

Here's the last part! Finally. I might post this to ao3 when I'm a bit less busy, but I wanted y'all to have this first part one | part two | part three | part four Warnings: very light angst

The next day he wakes up before noon and without a hangover. He looks out of the window and sees a sunny day, chirping birds and all.

He is to leave Derry tonight, which feels… too soon. Maybe that’s for the best, because, supposedly, moving on is one of the best ways to heal. But first there’s something else he has to do. He gets into his car and drives until he reaches the kissing bridge. The pocket knife in his jeans burns the entire time, the heaviness against his hip a reminder of what he’s about to do, for everyone to see, but most importantly for himself to know and remember. He gets out of the car once he’s parked, and the slam of the car door echoes loudly through the tunnel of the bridge, coming back twice as loud. It doesn’t make him wince, though, like he almost expects it to, out of habit of secrecy and silence surrounding anything related to love in his life. Instead, it almost makes him smile. It hurts, too, but maybe the pain right between his ears isn’t just reverberations of that dull sound. He doesn’t pay it much mind as he takes his knife out and opens it, approaching the wooden fence next to the tunnel. The memories of the first time he came here are clear as day, and so is the mix of fear, excitement, anxiety, and something quite unnameable he felt back then. He doesn’t feel it this time around when he crouches in front of the carving he needs to finish. He doesn’t hesitate, either, before reaching his hand towards the carving and etching the plus sign. He takes a couple of seconds and then moves onto the important part, the wonderful letter he can never forget, can’t let himself forget. There are two distinct thoughts that are intertwined in his head while he carves the letter into old wood. Eddie. And I love him. What he doesn’t expect is to hear a voice as he traces the finished letter with his fingertips. A small voice, timid even, saying his name. “Richie?” He turns his head to see Eddie. No trace of blood on him. No claw-shaped hole in his chest. A wound on his cheek, yes, one that’s only starting to heal, but otherwise nothing to suggest he was ever in the sewers. “Eds? I thought you were gone?” “Yeah, so did I,” he’s frowning, looking down at his chest and patting it down. He sounds as confused as Richie feels. “What the fuck happened?” “I was letting go of you, as you told me to—” “As I told you to? When the hell did I tell you to do that?” Now Richie’s lost track of everything entirely. “After you were… you know…” “All I remember is a claw through my chest down in the sewers,” Eddie’s talking a mile a minute and walking towards him now, and Richie realises, holy shit, this Eddie doesn’t remember appearing to him, so he stands up and tries to hide the carving behind his back. “Now I’m suddenly here, and I don’t remember how the fuck I got here, is this another one of Pennywise’s tricks? What is going on?” “No, man, we— we got Pennywise.” That stops Eddie and he looks Richie in the eyes, making him shift almost uncomfortably. “We— we killed him, thanks to you. You kind of saved us all there.” “Then what the fuck is happening?” he asks again, his eyes narrow, and Richie is as confused as he can be. “I don’t know any more than you do! How do I know you’re not just a trick of my imagination?” he reaches out for Eddie, unthinkingly, and grabs his shoulder — his definitely real, firm shoulder. Warm. Much warmer than Eddie he saw two days ago. Solid to the touch, not as ethereal. Not as… slimy is how he would put it best. He holds onto it, grounding himself and looking at Eddie in awe, even as the man raises an eyebrow at him. “Rich?” “I’m sorry, you’re—” it’s so difficult, yet so easy to believe, with how fervently he’s been repeating it to himself. “You’re alive.” “Well, it sure seems so, the question is how?” there’s an anxious edge to Eddie’s voice before he looks behind Richie and recognition passes through his eyes. His tone softens a little as he asks, “Why are we at the kissing bridge?” “I, uh—” Richie doesn’t know how to say the truth, realizes now that he needs more time to admit it like this, to alive Eddie’s face, but that turns out to be unnecessary, because Eddie’s already pushing past him to see the fence. He stops and takes it in as Richie feels the anxiety from 27 years ago return. “Is that—” Eddie doesn’t finish, just points at the R+E carved into the wood, and Richie’s voice is suddenly missing. “Yeah,” he answers lamely, rubbing the back of his neck. Eddie turns to face him, a somewhat crazed and otherwise unreadable expression on his face. Richie looks at him, at what his imagination was definitely not capable of, at the forehead wrinkles and the tense thin line of his lips, at the not-expressly-happy face Eddie’s making that definitely didn’t come from Richie’s own fantasies, and suddenly, words come to him easier than anything else ever has, “I love you, Eds.” Eddie lets out a breath that, Richie swears, takes longer than the past three days. And then he smiles, this small and tender smile that steals Richie’s own breath away, but he doesn’t mind. “Don’t call me Eds,” he says in a heartbreakingly gentle voice as he moves towards Richie, and oh, is that what true happiness feels like? Richie doesn’t know and stops caring when Eddie reaches out his hand to cup his cheek, looking up at him. “If this is heaven, then I don’t mind dying violently,” Eddie says, letting out a small laugh, and Richie’s happy chuckle to match can’t be contained. “You’re stuck with me, so I doubt it.” Eddie’s smile is bright and free, and Richie can’t help the feeling bubbling up in his heart. “Well, I guess it’s a good thing I love you, too, dumbass,” Eddie says quietly, and before Richie has a chance to respond, he is tugged into a kiss that’s more of a mash of lips than anything else, but it still makes him cry. He puts his arms around Eddie and holds him so close it might be bordering on painful, but he's pretty sure neither of them care. Eddie pulls away soon and wipes at Richie’s wet cheeks with such tenderness it only makes him cry more. “I’m sorry,” Richie manages to sob out, and Eddie shushes him and hugs him close, stroking his hair when Richie puts his forehead on the shoulder in front of him. It’s covered by Eddie’s jacket, not the hoodie he was wearing in the sewers. “I’ll live,” he jokes, and Richie can’t help a hiccuping laugh. “You fucking better.” Eddie turns his head and kisses Richie’s cheek in a surprising gesture, but it still makes him smile and gradually stop sniffling. “So what now?” Richie isn’t really prepared for the question, but he smiles and pulls back a little, just enough to get a visual on Eddie. “Depends. Do you want to get out of this shithole of a town? I got a place in Beverly Hills,” he hesitates a bit. “There’s a guest room if you want to take things slow.” The incredulous smile Eddie gets answers it even before he speaks. “I think twenty seven years is slow enough.” Richie exhales in relief as he continues, “I’d love to get the fuck out of here.” Richie presses his lips to Eddie’s forehead before intertwining their fingers and tugging him towards the car with a grin and listening to his laugh. Once they’re in the car, Eddie speaks again. “Wait, so am I, like… legally dead now or something?” “Kinda,” Richie bites his tongue and turns the key in the ignition. “Huh,” Eddie leans back in the car seat, looking right ahead. “Never thought I’d be in this situation before.” “What, you didn’t foresee that risk in your analysis?” Richie attempts, getting a raised eyebrow and a small snort for his troubles. “Really, that’s the best you’ve got?” Richie shrugs. “Where’s your romantic nature, Eds? Just think, you can do one of those witness protection things where you get a new name, a cool backstory, one where you don’t work at the most boring job in the world—” “Hey!” “—and where instead of marrying a woman ten times your size, you marry a famous comedian with a ten-inch dick.” Now Eddie’s laughing. It’s the most beautiful sound Richie could ever dream of, and he drives away from the kissing bridge with a smile. “You keep bragging about your dick so much that I’m pretty sure it’s not even half the size you say it is,” he teases, and Richie bites his tongue, smiling. “I never lie about what I’m packing,” he glances to his side and sees Eddie’s eyes darkening slightly and his cheeks assume a light blush. “I’ll believe it when I see it,” he smiles at Richie cheekily. “Oh, Eds, you don’t know what you’re signing up for,” they both laugh and Eddie’s hand finds Richie’s closest one, closing in a comforting grip. “Someone recently told me I’m braver than I think. Bring it on.” Richie brings Eddie’s hand up and presses lips to his knuckles softly. He keeps his grip controlled and gentle when they cross the town line, checking whether he's disappeared, but Eddie remains in the seat next to him even as they leave Derry to embark upon something entirely new together. He listens to Eddie talk about how he wanted to leave that job anyway and how he’s always been interested in cars, and Richie finds himself promising him that they will figure everything out together and that he supports Eddie no matter what he wants to do, and it seems like Eddie believes him, smiling and squeezing his hand gratefully. He goes on wondering aloud whether there are any good tennis courts or jogging tracks Richie knows of in LA, because he’s always wanted to try tennis, but never quite got to, and Richie can’t contain his smile. Yeah. It will be okay, he thinks, listening to Eddie switch topics and start fussing about small things like whether Richie has a humidifier back home or if they should buy one— or if they should get a new one anyway, because Eddie knows which ones are the best, and for the first time in a long time, perhaps in his entire life, he feels happy and content. Like he’s gotten something he’s always been looking for, and now it’s time for his real life to begin. And he knows that now. It will all be okay. — — Author’s note: surprise! Bet you didn’t expect that, now, did ya. I’m soft and I wanted a supernatural ending, bc this is my fic, so what I say goes. Also I like the idea of subverting the curse of speaking things into existence into a blessing, sue me. Okay, no, pls don’t. Anyway, thanks for reading, wonderful souls!

#reddie #reddie fanfic #reddie fanfiction #writing tag

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denrbough · 4 years

Text

‘a dear friend’

LIke family, but not like family

Summary: It’s 7:30 in the morning on a Wednesday when Bill’s eyes scan around the room, looking for something comfortable to train his eyes on. After the death of their father at the age of seventeen, most eyes would be swimming in tears sitting in the funeral home, trying to decide which blurry picture to use as the memorial card. Regardless, Bill Denbrough’s eyes are dry. It’s not that he hated Zack Denbrough, but he feels as if for the past six years, he hasn’t known him, and his view up until age eleven would have been very biased. Most little boys want to grow up just like their fathers, and Bill used to, even when he wasn’t someone to look up to.

in other words, au where the losers meet in high school in a youth therapy group.

Taglist: @purplelittlepup

It’s 7:30 in the morning on a Wednesday when Bill’s eyes scan around the room, looking for something comfortable to train his eyes on. After the death of their father at the age of seventeen, most eyes would be swimming in tears sitting in the funeral home, trying to decide which blurry picture to use as the memorial card. Regardless, Bill Denbrough’s eyes are dry. It’s not that he hated Zack Denbrough, but he feels as if for the past six years, he hasn’t known him, and his view up until age eleven would have been very biased. Most little boys want to grow up just like their fathers, and Bill used to, even when he wasn’t someone to look up to.

Mr. Denbrough died at the age of 45 from liver failure, after a damn near lifetime of being an alcoholic. Bill made the decision when he was 14 never to touch a bottle of liquor, and not to get very drunk. Now, he’d realized, is the time to know I don’t want to be him.

Meanwhile, Sharon is sitting near him with a chair in between, so drunk that Bill’s quite sure she’s sweating booze.

He turns his attention back to the funeral director, who’s going on about the pros and cons of cremation. Despite the serious mood, Bill chuckles in remembrance of what Richie had said to him the other day. “He should totally get cremated, all the vodka will have him up in flames in no time!” man, Richie could be a dick, and he doesn’t think before he speaks, and always smells like ax bodyspray, but honestly, Bill doesn’t know what he’d do without the kid.

“Mr. Denbrough, you alright?” Mr. Conch asks him in his even voice. Bill looks him in the eyes and nods.

“I’m just really in my head,” he says slowly, floating back into the real world. Between his lag and his red eyes, he’s sure now that it’s obvious he’s high. And with his mother with tear-stained cheeks looking disassociated, it’s obvious that Mr. Conch is about to say what comes out of his mouth next.

“How about I call tomorrow? You’ve both had a long week and probably need some time alone,” he says amiably, closing the book he’d been reading from. “We have until Monday and as long as you send me the information I can take care of things here. We want to make this transition as easy as possible on you two. Go home, rest” he insists, standing up from his chair to make it clear he’s serious.

Sharon collects her coat and puts it on, putting her purse over her shoulder and making her way out, not watching to see if Bill is following. He hurries himself to get up and follow but Mr. Conch stops him with a hand on his shoulder, silently handing him a pamphlet. “Teen Substance Abuse and the Risks.” he embarrassedly puts it away in his pocket before he’s handed a business card that he doesn’t read until he’s on his way out back to his truck to drive he and his mom home. “Grief Management Youth Group.” before he opens the car door he pulls his phone out of his pocket.

“Hey, Siri, can you s-save a date and time r-r-reminder for me?” he puts in the date for the next meeting based on the schedule on the card. He opens the driver’s side door and gets in.

Two days later, the sun is up and Bill gets out of bed, the funeral isn’t for three more days and nothing feels quite real yet. He feels as if he’s living in a diorama, he’s walking through a fake version of his world. With this coincidence, his phone goes off as he gets fresh clothes on after a shower. “Youth Group Thing” the screen reads as it rings. And even more surprisingly, he puts on his shoes and decides to go.

He listens to the radio on the way to the library where the meetings take place, parking close to the front as it’s early enough in the morning not to be busy yet. He shoves his hands in his sweatshirt pockets and walks down to the conference room, a few teens already sitting on chairs and talking. Before he walks in he peers through the window at each of them, none of them sitting properly on their chairs.

He opens the door and walks in, looking down at first and looking up once he’s in. “Hi, I g-got r-referred here, am I e-e-early?” he asks, not seeing anything formally going on. His face is flushed from the embarrassment of seemingly being the only new kid.

“No, this is it,” a girl in a beanie says with a pop of her gum. “You know this town, the guy supposed to talk to us never shows,” she says with a scoff. Bill starts to walk closer to sit in a chair and she stops him. “Name and state of orphanhood,” she says as she points a firm finger at him.

“William Denbrough. Lost my dad a few days ago,” he says, standing up a little straighter but averting his eyes and licking his chapped lips awkwardly. He shifts his weight to his left foot instead of his right and looks at the floor after a moment.

“Bev, chill out,” A taller teen boy says, he’s rather handsome and Bill recognizes him as being known as the only black kid in town. He’s never met him, but he’s also never judged, most of the teens don’t, they’re not as closed-minded as the adults of the small town of Derry, Maine. “Go easy on ‘im, fishes are friends, not food,” he starts to chuckle as he speaks and by the end of the sentence they’re all cracking up. All but Bill. It only makes sense, they know each other well enough to have inside jokes.

Bill finally takes a seat in a chair, one not next to anyone else. “Hey, might not want to get too comfortable, we’re heading out soon, Friday adventures,” one boy with dark roots and blond hair grins. He’s shorter than the others, almost looks younger, but the look in his eyes portrays something like wisdom.

“Fr-Friday adventures?” Bill asks, tumbling over the words even in such a short statement. Damn this stutter, damn his mom honestly, and damn the car accident she blames it on. He’d try and say it’s a nervous tick, but it happens even when he’s not consciously nervous, deep-rooted anxiety that he doesn’t know how to quiet. “Don’t w-we sit here and like, talk ab-bout how we feel about the p-p-people we’ve lost?” he asks, knowing that’s what was advertised to him, and it was something he wasn’t necessarily looking forward to. Maybe this is better, that is if they let him come with. The idea of “adventures” always strikes an intrigue in him.

“Not without a moderator,” shrugs another boy with a soft and plump face and an almost forlorn voice, shoving his phone into his sweatshirt pocket and standing up, “Mike, can I come with to go warm up the car?” he asks suddenly. He doesn’t seem to want to sit around here and talk anymore, Bill gets the idea that the boy doesn’t want to answer any more of his questions, and almost the cold breeze of being unwelcomed.

“I can uh- l-l-leave? I don’t th-think five people c-can fit in a car,” Bill gets up suddenly in contrast to his soft words. His body is tall and lanky and he’s not quite in his mind enough to control it less clumsily. He’s about to put his hands in his pockets and walk out when the supposed Mike blocks the door.

“Nah, you can have shotgun, you look like you need it. And five seat just fine, especially with tiny Eddie who’s so kind as to sit in the middle so we��re not all squished,” Mike offers, grinning in the direction of the boy with the dark roots, that must be Eddie.

“Fuck you,” Eddie says as dimly as he can and nonchalantly raises his left middle finger before he finally breaks the act and cracks a smile. “Beverly isn’t allowed to smoke next to me though, she’ll have to go a ride without a cig,” he says in a fake sympathetic voice geared at her with a matching overexaggerated expression. Then the boy gets up and Bill almost chuckles out loud, he can’t be any taller than 5’3, which Bill can’t judge much at 5’8, but he still is a good head above him.

Bev suddenly gets up from her seat (rather extravagantly as she’d been truly sitting as if she was a contortionist). “Careful red, we already have a ginger here,” she says with a playful smile and rustling the hair on the top of his head confidently. “It’s time to go. Mike said you can have shotgun but I get it on the way back,” she runs herself with such power that Bill can only nod in response to her sureness. He’ll have to be a bit careful of her, seemingly the fireball of the group, and fireball burns going down. Mike good cop, Beverly bad cop.

It takes them over a half an hour but they all get comfortable in the car, none of them but Mike and Eddie are buckled, and the pudgy boy with the sort of bowl cut is still quiet until they’re about to pair Eddie’s phone to the Bluetooth because he has Spotify premium. “So, your name is Bill, but what are you into? We usually dick around at the arcade, it’s bum empty during school hours. But it’s sunny enough to introduce you to the quarry if you don’t mind getting your jeans wet. I’m Ben by the way,” he introduces, with the new statement from Ben, Bill begins to realize that nobody in this group is really genuinely in charge, he likes that.

“God I don’t care if he wants to stay dry, I need a swim,” Mike laughs, kicking the car in the gas pedal and wheezing it to a start, backing out of the library parking lot and down the road to a turn Bill’s never noticed before.

It’s an unpaved road, more of an extra-wide trail, but there are tire marks from the obvious times they’ve come through before. The trees are starting to turn yellows and reds and oranges, a drive through the forest like this is like walking through a painting of warmth, the sunlight peeking through and showing drier patches of dirt. It’s beautiful, and he has no idea how he hasn’t seen it before. The drive seems longer than it really is, soaking up all the beauty Bill can take enough brainpower to slow down time.

Then comes a clearing of trees, showing a cliff that drops off into a sinkhole, rocks, and branches coming out the sides on the way down from the greenery that had been there when the sinkhole developed. Before Bill has even taken in the scenic view, the others are climbing out of the car and pulling off their shirts and pants, “Don’t worry, Bill, we’ve got towels in the trunk for days like this,” Mike calls back as he makes a run for the cliff’s edge, his sound draining away as his body falls from the cliff to the water with a hearty splash.

Bill nods to himself, now taking off his sneakers and his clothes behind a tree. He shouldn’t be embarrassed, and they’ll see his body in the water anyway, but he’s insecure, new, and scrawny as all get out. He runs his hands up and down his ribs, sometimes imagining them as a hidden xylophone in his chest, he wonders if he hit them hard enough with one of the paddles if they would be in tune. Richie says those thoughts are too dark, and they can lead to self-destructive behavior, but Bill simply sees it as a creative mind coming up with something others aren’t ready for yet.

He slips off his socks and walks out into the clearing. Then, he bolts forward to soar over the edge of the cliff, falling, falling, diving into something he’s never known before, trust and friendship. They’re a quirky bunch and he’s not sure where he’ll fit in, but they were kind enough to include him, and now he’s giving in. it’s been a bad week and he hasn’t felt this free in months despite it being summer. His bike broke two years ago, and he hasn’t found the right fit. So now, this feeling. The feeling of the wind in his face, the weightlessness.

Despite the molasses-like state of time, Monday still comes. Bill buttons up his black shirt and pulls on a pair of black jeans, he can’t remember the last time that he had a pair of dress pants that didn’t rest far above his ankles, he really needs to go clothing shopping. To top it all off, a pair of worn out Vans. he looks at himself in the mirror in the bathroom, combing back his hair into a bit of a messy man bun at the back of his head. His dad never liked his hair long, he feels like he ought to pull it back out of respect. He learned a lot about funerals and respect when Georgie died. He may not care as much about the person his dad was, but he respects the process. Really, he’s unsure if he could call his parents parents. He’d read in a poetry book once that said there is no such thing as alcoholic parents, just people who can’t put their drinks down long enough to raise their child. He partially agrees with it, he knows his mom doesn’t actually know him, and he’s sure his dad didn’t either.

When he’s ready and it’s time to go, he puts his phone in his pants pocket and goes to fetch his mother, who is ready as opposed to still in bed as he’d expected. Maybe his parents did care about stuff, that stuff just isn’t him.

The drive is nearly silent until he’s parking in the parking lot, even when he misses a few exits on the way. His mom doesn’t criticize his driving, but as he starts to unbuckle his seatbelt and unlock the car, she hisses to him in a low voice. “Don’t embarrass us.” before he can even respond, she’s getting out of the car and hurrying into the building.

Bill follows slowly behind her, first pulling the door and then realizing it’s a pull door. He really doesn’t know where his mind is today. Somehow the funeral home feels dimmer than it has any other times he’s been here when the lighting realistically hasn’t changed at all. The room where the funeral will take place is off a door to the left, he’d seen his dad’s cold, pale body in the door a straight path from the front door. Something about final viewing before cremation. Georgie was buried, but Bill assumes because his dad wanted the reminder that he’d lost his son as far as he could keep it, it would have been Sharon who hoped for cremation. Why? Because she couldn’t even bear to touch a hair on one of the boy’s stuffed animals, it must all be how he’d have it, how the memories would be triggered more easily.

He has to stand in the room for several hours, giving and receiving hugs from family and friends. Being the close family at a funeral is probably the worst role to be, except for maybe the dead one. But is that so bad? They always talk about heaven, isn’t death supposed to be the most peaceful? But here in a room full of people he has to stop thinking about that before he gets more red in the face and flustered.

Then is the actual ceremony with only who was close to him, and to be honest, Bill zoned out. And he pretended to be too sad to speak when he was offered the microphone, when you have a stutter you can make excuses like that really easily. Afterward he lingers outside the room where his relatives are eating.

It’s almost like fate that the gang of hooligans he hung out with the other day all walk in then. Or was it? They’d met Bill, looked up his dad’s funeral, and decided to show up after to pick him up. It’s not like they could have texted him first, not a single one of them had managed to get his phone number on the day they’d met.

They don’t need to say anything until he breaks down in tears, enough has built up and he doesn’t even know why at this point. First Beverly hugs him, and that really shocks him because she was so standoff-ish at first. He accepts the hug gratefully though, almost melting against her as Mike comes up and joins. And before long, they’re all hugging around his shaking form in the lobby of the funeral home. It’s unconventional, but it’s just what he needed.

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softeddiek · 5 years

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and it’s peaceful in the deep

reddie fic post ch. 2

i ended up writing about this post i made, because i apparently like hurting myself. just richie grieving aka me grieving

3.8k words | read on ao3

He waits until everyone else has left town before he goes. (In the days leading up, he tries not to think too hard about how one of them isn’t leaving. One of them will never leave. He must repress that thought pretty damn hard for him to end up doing what he does.)

Bill leaves first. He’s stuttering out about his wife and needing to go see her—there’s a small part about a movie tacked onto the end, so small that, if he’d actually been paying attention to Bill when he said it, he would realize Bill almost gave less of a shit about the movie than Richie did. Almost.

Next is Bev and Ben. They don’t leave at the same time, though he knows they have plans to meet up together. (They would have left together, they would have, he just knows it. He wouldn’t have let Eddie leave Derry alone, not this time.)

Ben leaves before her, surprisingly. Derry had held bad memories for all of them, what with being terrorized by a fucking alien being or some shit guised as a clown not once, but twice. Bev especially though. But Ben leaves first. Something about getting his place ready. About taking their time, getting in contact with his lawyer, about her not going to her home just yet, not until Ben can fix things. Or that’s the gist of what Richie catches them murmuring about as they all eat dinner above the library in Mike’s cramped living quarters (They eat, but Richie finds he can’t. Not until he wakes up from a long fitful sleep, the ache in his stomach—the one caused by hunger—too much to ignore.), obviously not wanting the other three to hear too much.

(Richie does still hear some of it. They try to keep it quiet, they really do, but it’s just like the kiss in the quarry—he’d still seen it, even though it had been underwater. Still grits his teeth as he thinks about the plans he won’t get to make, the first kiss he won’t get to experience.)

Mike is last. Mike who had never left Derry, off to Florida, of all fucking places. It’s Mike that proves the trickiest to convince that he’s okay.

The Losers had still been somewhat in tune with each other even after nearly three decades, but Richie had always been good at fooling people. (He hears “fairy” being spit after him in his head, thinks of Pennywise floating above him, taunting him, and knows he hadn’t been able to fool everyone, not about everything—that had been his big fear after all, hadn’t it?)

So when he tells Bill and Bev and Ben that he had to get a later flight out—a mix up by his agent and no, really guys, he’s fine, he’s leaving this shithole as soon as he can, and yes, he’ll still call, and hey, why don’t you guys all come to his next show (you know, when he’s not too fucking traumatized and grieving to do one)—they believe him. They still send him wary looks, squeeze him a little longer than they ever did as kids when they hug him, but they leave all the same, doing their damn hardest to not look back, to move on from this place, again. Only with their memories intact and promises to see each other anywhere that isn’t here. They may have defeated It for good this time, but that could never erase the painful memories that this place holds. They didn’t need It to bring them forth for them. (He’s sure he’ll become all too familiar with those memories even when he’s far away from Derry again. A repeat of the nightmare that he’s just lived down in that well; the one scene from that night that’s been on a loop in his head—behind his eyelids when they close--since it happened.)

But Mike…Mike knows the look of someone reluctant to leave. He’d spent his whole life here after all, digging into the past, the only one to really remember them all, never leaving. Seeing each Loser leave Derry one by one, onto bigger things, forgetting each other and him.

He’s as jokey as he can be when trying to convince him he’ll be fine, but Mike doesn’t bite. He asks if he wants him to postpone his trip, to spend some time here in Derry with him helping him recover or, hell, even rerouting his plans and seeing California first (“They’re both sunny places, aren’t they?”). And Richie feels a pang in his chest over his friend worrying about him. Richie hasn’t had anyone to worry about him in a long time—not anyone that wasn’t paid to at least. (Not since the Losers but especially not since Eddie. Eddie’s worry had always felt so different, something nobody has been able to match even now. Not for Richie.)

But eventually something works. Whether it’s the fiftieth joke or the hundredth sigh, something he does makes Mike relent. A part of him screams at that, at the last of them finally leaving him alone in Derry. They all deserve to forget about It, he knows that, knows that he wants to as well. But why do they all just get to move on as if Eddie isn’t stuck here? Stuck beneath piles of rubble, down in the dark depths of the earth where It had lived and fed? Why do they get to go back to their wives, to each other, to new places and adventures, when Eddie will never get to? Why do they get to move on from Eddie—one of their best friends—just like that, and he doesn’t? (He knows why.)

A small part of him feels bad for not being this distraught over hearing about Stan. He tells himself it’s different—he didn’t see Stan murdered in front of his very eyes. Stan didn’t die trying to save him. He hadn’t gotten the chance to reconnect with Stan. He wasn’t in--.

It was different, but it didn’t mean he cared any less about Stan. Still, the part of him that’s actually able to process other things—the part of his brain that hasn’t found itself dedicated to dissecting that moment over and over again—still feels a little bad that his grief for Stan had found itself pushed to the side so easily.

When Mike has left, texting their new group chat to let them all know he had safely boarded the plane (Richie responding with a few complaints about what a bummer it is his flight had to be so late, but not enough to overdo it) he goes.

Everyone in Derry knows the way to the Neibolt house. It wouldn’t have mattered if Richie had never stepped foot inside of the place—if It had never happened to them—everyone just knew about the dilapidated old house. Even so, he knew he’d never forget the way there, even if he came back to Derry a hundred times with his memory wiped clean of It. It had become engrained in there.

He drives there now, alone for the first time. When he gets there, he parks the car on the side of the street, across from what is left of the house. The city had been informed about the collapse, chalked it up to old infrastructure, and promptly left it alone. Glad to have wiped their hands of it finally; the eyesore that really must have been fucking with all of Derry’s small-town charm.

Flashes of the house go through his mind, in three different states, all progressively worse. In one second, he’s standing in front of it as a kid with his friends, bikes in a pile in front of the gate. Eddie with his fanny pack, right before his arm had ended up in a cast. Bev with her hair chopped short. Stan and Mike with nervous expressions. Ben, short and stocky, eyes flitting to Beverly every now and again, something that hasn’t changed. And Bill. Always the leader. Bill ready to charge in and take on It; wanting to save the many at the risk of the few.

He knows he’s bitter. It’s not Bill’s fault Eddie was dead. Not really. They all knew the dangers going into that house, every time. (Only why had it always been Eddie?) But the darkest parts of him that are still grieving can’t help but wonder what might have happened if Bill hadn’t rushed them into it the other night. If they had had more time to prepare or, fuck, to get Eddie’s face looked at. Maybe then he wouldn’t have been there at least, sitting in some emergency room getting his face stitched up instead, and it would have just been the five of them.

The younger Bill in his mind suddenly morphs into the older one, how he looks now. In his forties and still ready to charge in, leading the Losers. They’re missing one, and soon to be missing another.

Just as quickly as they came, those images disappear, and all he’s left looking at is that fucking pile of rubble. He clenches his jaw and turns to his rental car, grabbing a flashlight he’d lifted from Mike’s place out of the passenger seat. It’s evening now, the sun beginning to set beneath the trees, the chirping of crickets thrumming in the air.

Realistically, Richie can tell he’s going through some form of disassociation. Has been since the drive over, his detachment worsening upon seeing where the house stood. (Had it looked this bad in the dark that night?) He feels his feet moving as if on autopilot, stumbling against the pavement and into what’s left of the yard, with no care for whether or not the ground is stable.

His legs give out, knees buckling beneath him until they hit the ground, the impact reverberating throughout his body. The flashlight falls to the earth with a soft thump.

“I’m sorry,” he chokes out, tears pricking at his eyes. It all comes rushing out. “I’m so sorry, I tried to come sooner, I tried Eds, I really did, they wouldn’t let me.” He wipes harshly at the now falling tears on his face. “I’m gonna get you out man, I promise. Okay? You won’t have to stay in the dark. I know you hate the dark.”

He’s suddenly crawling forward to close the short distance between himself and the start of the pile, hands and jean-clad knees dragging through the dirt. When he reaches it, still kneeling, he doesn’t stop to come up with a plan, just dives headfirst into it, yanking haphazardly at wood and twisted metal, throwing pieces into a pile behind him.

(Years later, when he’s grown used to reliving that night in his nightmares, he will realize just how very far down they had been, how deep It’s lair had gone. He would know then how absolutely futile that trying to dig down there—by hand no less—was. But now all he can think of is being ten and having a sleepover at Bill’s with Stan and Eddie—a rare thing on account of Eddie’s mom. Bill and Stan had long fallen asleep and Richie himself was just on the brink of it when he realized that, beside him, Eddie was still tense and awake. He’d stayed up talking with him for another hour until Eddie had managed to fall asleep, not mentioning it the next day and keeping it to himself even a few months later when he spotted a nightlight in Eddie’s room.)

(There are a lot of things he didn’t mention to Eddie, he thinks bitterly.)

He keeps going, dirt shifting as he drags unwilling pieces of that house away. Part of his mind is flitting through tools that will be needed—something for digging, something big, something that can go deep—but the most prominent voice in his head, the one pushing him through this impossible task, just whispers, Eddie, Eddie Eddie. It’s that voice that makes him ignore the sweat dripping down his forehead, stinging his eyes, mixing with the dried tears that have left his face feeling tight; the voice ignoring his quickly burning arms.

He jerks upright to his feet, tripping toward the progress he’s made to yank at a larger piece of wood in the pile—like cleaning up the pieces of a rotted corpse, he thinks, letting out a shaky breath. He grabs onto the board, tugging to dislodge it, his motions jerky and uncoordinated with fatigue, when he stumbles backwards. The board comes with him, landing on his stomach and knocking the wind from him, while his right hand reaches out behind him to stop his fall, instead connecting with the end of a nail jutting out from a nearby piece of wood he’d already put to the side.

“Motherfucker,” he yells out, the nail cleanly piercing through his palm upon impact, the most he’s been able to feel all night.

He can feel his breath coming out in short pants, eyes wide, adrenaline rushing through him alongside shock as he quickly jerks his hand back up, the nail exiting the same way it entered. He bites down on the inside of his cheek, hard, drawing the metallic tang of blood.

He lifts the now shaking hand to his face, seeing blood oozing from the wound through the thick lenses of his glasses.

All of a sudden, he can hear Eddie’s frantic voice, clear as day. “What the fuck man, wrap your hand up, quick! You need to go to the emergency room before you get tetanus. If you wait too long, you’ll get a fever and, and your muscles will start twitching and shit, and you’ll die.”

His lips begin turning upward into a smile, quickly overtaken by a grimace, while his eyes close, focusing on Eddie’s admonishing tone of voice. A voice he’ll never hear again.

He’d always thought that when one part of your body was hurting, that if you hurt another, you would no longer be able to focus on the original pain. Well, that was fucking wrong, because it’s like putting that nail through his hand heightened the rest of his senses, and he can feel the wound in his hand on top of his aching arms and the pounding headache he apparently has.

He lifts his left hand away from where it’s putting pressure on the right, struggling to lift it up enough and tear off a strip of his shirt. When he’s managed a poor attempt at wrapping up his palm, he just sits, unable to make himself get up and leave for the hospital.

(He had fucking waited. He waited for them all to leave. He was the only one willing to go back for Eddie, he’d promised. He can’t leave him down there.)

He doesn’t know how long he actually sits there, hand on fire, arms weighed down like lead. It had been dark when he’d stabbed himself. His flashlight still sits a few feet away, unused, his eyes having grown adjusted to the dark and dim lighting from the moon as the sun had set. It feels like it’s only been a few minutes but, in reality, it must have been hours. The air is cooler, and he can hear the chirping of birds, as if heralding the sun and, with it, a new day. He shakes his head, astounded at how he’s managed to completely zone out, sitting through the pain of his hand. He had thought about nothing--it’s like an entire night has been stolen from him. Had he fallen asleep; eyes open? No. He couldn’t have. No way would he have had a dreamless sleep, especially not here.

It’s the longest he’s gone without thinking of Eddie since that night, he realizes. He can’t help but laugh. How fucking ironic that he’d finally be able to escape from the thoughts haunting him when he’s literally sitting atop Eddie’s grave.

His eyes roam back over the pile of rubble that was once a house. He swallows heavily, eyes closing as his mind finally catches up with his actions. Impossible, it whispers. Literally fucking impossible.

He feels more tears springing free now, amazed that he has any left in him, and presses his palms hard into both eyes, relishing in the pain he feels from the pressure on them and the fire radiating from his hand. He can feel something sticky on his cheek, blood most likely.

Such an idiot, he thinks. He wonders what might have happened if only he’d stopped trying to cling to Eddie’s body, instead using his energy to get the others to carry him. To bring him back up then. The rational part of him knows that wouldn’t have been possible—they didn’t have the time or the energy. (That darker, worse part of him wonders what would have happened if he’d have been able to resist his friends pulling him away from Eddie—to stop himself from following them out as the rocks rained down. Would they have come back for their bodies if it was two of them? Was two the magic number that Bill thought was worth risking it for?)

He shakes his head, telling himself to stop redirecting his anger at his friends. The thing he should really be angry at is dead, destroyed forever.

And Eddie is below, forever. There’s no way of getting him, Richie. That’s where he has to stay.

“It’s just a body. It’s just a body. It’s just a body,” he chants lowly to himself, over and over again.

It’s fucked up, ultimately. Eddie will have to stay buried there. There’s nothing Richie can do about it. Even if the other Losers were with him, digging, there’s nothing they could do about it either. And, everyone ends up in the dark eventually, right? Whether in a casket or in a furnace; in a shallow grave or deep down in the lair of some demented space clown. It’s not like Eddie could literally see himself sitting in the dark. What mattered was how Richie was viewing it. He’d been projecting his own thoughts—how he thought his Eddie would feel stuck down there. And yeah, it’s super fucked up. Eddie would agree if he could. But he would just have to try to get over it—to try his hardest to stop remembering Eddie’s lifeless body, all alone as those rocks came down, and instead remembering him how he knew him best—things about Eddie that his mind had slowly been reminding him of since they had returned to Derry.

With a cast on his arm. With his fanny pack. His polo shirts and too short shorts. A sneaky grin on his face. His mouth downturned when he was pouting. His hands, dragging his inhaler up to his mouth, panic settling on his face over some minor incident. His laughter as he jumped into the quarry with his friends, splashing each other on a hot summer day. His calm smile as he looked back at Richie, pedaling down the road on their bikes with their friends.

The older Eddie. His face more weathered, his spirit more beaten, but still the same Eddie. Those same wide eyes filled with laughter. That same bossy tone and sarcastic attitude that would come out when Richie would say something dumb.

(Later, he will think of an even older Eddie. The one he might have had. But for now, his mind spares him that thought.)

He looks a few yards to his left, spotting a familiar patch of wildflowers. He has a faint memory of there being more around the overgrown yard than there are now. He stumbles to his feet, weak from all of the physical exertion and lack of food over the past few days yet, somehow, he manages to reach them. He yanks a few out of the ground with his good hand, roots and all.

He stands in front of what was once Neibolt house, not daring to kneel again lest he be unable to get back up. Setting the flowers down gently, he closes his eyes, taking in the gentle rays of the sun beginning to peak past the horizon.

“I love you Eds. Always have,” he lets out on a sigh. “I’m not sure when loving you turned into being in love with you but…I just know I’ve felt that way for a very long time. Even if I forgot. And maybe if I had told you, you wouldn’t have cared. Or maybe you would have. Or maybe you would have been grossed out, fuck, I don’t know.” He lets out a humorless laugh. “I like to think you would have felt the same but…. I’m just sorry I never got the chance to tell you before everything happened. So, I’m telling you now. My agent always did tell me to work on my timing,” he lets out a weak grin. “You’ll be okay here.” He shakes his head up and down slowly, as if reassuring himself. “Your body might be here, but you’ll always be with me Eds, promise.”

He clenches his jaw and allows himself to stand there for one last moment. Tears in his eyes, he swallows down the lump in his throat and hurries away, back toward his car. He yanks open the door, and plops into the seat, letting out a strangled cry before starting the engine, ready to get away from this house once and for all.

It’s only a day and a half later when he finds himself finally making his way out of town, right hand bandaged up, arm still sore from the tetanus shot he’d received at the hospital. When he pulls to a slow stop on the bridge, it’s with that hand that he puts the car into park. Leaving the engine on, he gets out and makes his way toward the side of the bridge; a spot he hasn’t stood in in decades.

The letters are still there, well faded into the wood with time, but still legible. He would’ve been able to find the spot with his eyes closed. As he crouches in front of the wooden planks, he feels it all rushing back to him. The guilt, the shame. The fear. He thinks about Stanley’s letter that his agent had had forwarded to him. He thinks about being brave.

As he presses his knife back into the carved R and E, separated only by a plus sign, he doesn’t think of Eddie’s body. He doesn’t think of his final resting place. He thinks about Eddie and all of the time they did have. He thinks of Eddie, his best friend. Eddie, the first boy he ever loved. He just thinks of Eddie.

He lets out a shaky breath, looks at that R+E one last time, searing it into his memory once again, and turns back toward his car, deciding to be brave.

#reddie #reddie fic #it: chapter two spoilers #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #my fic

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sunshinereddie · 1 year

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another note about my IT reread, there’s just something so….. fitting about richie’s character (child version) being introduced by eddie. like ofc by this point in the book, we’ve already met richie. we’ve met his adult version, we know who he is, the other losers have mentioned him in their points of view, but the first time we are really introduced to richie and what he’s all about, it’s through eddie’s point of view.

hey, stephen king. what the fuck man

#cause like why #i wanna know why #none of the other losers are like that #even during that chapter!!!! its when stan and richie get introduced to ben for the first time #and eddie goes into this big long monologue of richie and what hes all about #but that chapter only briefly touches stan? he only gets a quick intro? why??#sking you’re killing me man #sunny goes back to derry

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notalone91 · 5 years

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i heard you calling (it hurt so much to let go of your hand)

Summary: Every year, like clockwork, on the Anniversary of the day they defeated It, the Losers make a point to crash back down on Derry and wreak some havoc. One stop they have to make is Neibolt Street.

I saw a post on tumblr and was inspired, so, taking a break from my Major Canon Fix It writing to bring you this little nugget. A choose-your-own-adventure of sorts. This is unbeta'd and fell out of my hands and unraveled quickly, so just... take that with a grain of salt.

This is a Choose-Your-Own-Adventure story of sorts. After the read-more, hit ctrl+f and seek Option A (Camp Denial) or Option B (Camp Canon).

also available on AO3

Every year, like clockwork, on the Anniversary of the day they defeated It, the Losers make a point to crash back down on Derry and wreak some havoc. They drink. They swim in the quarry. They drink. They laugh. They drink. They watch all the horrible old movies they used to see at the Capitol. They drink. They reminisce. They drink. They cry. They drink. They visit the vacant lot on the corner of Neibolt street. They’re very sober. They all stand around for a moment before Richie steps forward to drop a flower he’d kept hidden in his jacket onto the rubble. He runs his hands through the dirt, looking at the sprouts from where the flowers from the last four years have begun to take root. He swallows thickly and kneels, closing his eyes for a moment to block out the other Losers' hushed chatter. He knows they’re talking about him. He’s heard it all before. Still, he has to do it. He has to let him know...

“So, uh, Eds,” he says, tongue feeling too large in his mouth. “It’s been another year.” Another year makes five. It’s been five years already. He can hardly believe it, even though it’s been a huge topic of discussion for the last two days. “I, uh… I washed my sheets. Like twice.” He lifts his eyebrows and smiles, pleased with himself. He laughs to himself, raking a hand through his hair. “I showered a couple of times.” He shrugs, trying to remember all of the things he’d want to tell Eddie that happened since the last time he was here. “I hosted SNL again. They never wanted me as a cast member, but now that I’m all cool and relevant, they’re all over me. Figures, right?” Another laugh. The other Losers look on, none of them ready to interrupt his ritual. They knew too well what happened when they intervened. “My manager threatened to bring in ghostwriters again because my new act wasn’t raunchy enough.” He sank back onto his heels, with his hands folded in his lap. “I think I’m getting too old for the Trashmouth routine. Gotta grow up sometime, I guess.” He pushes his glasses up on his nose and stares at the sky, feeling tears start to bloom in his eyes. “New York is nice, but I gotta say…” he takes a deep breath and exhales, close to a laugh, “it’s filthy, Eds.” He hiccups a little, a single tear beading under his glasses. “How did you live there for so long and not go on a city-wide cleaning spree? I get off the subway and feel like I need to light my skin on fire. It’s disgusting. And the smell?” He bunches up his nose like the wafting steam had followed him to Maine. “I mean, I’m getting used to the smell, but I can’t picture you ever getting used to it.” He laughs, thinking about how many jokes Eddie could make about his Trashmouth being the source of the stench. But he can’t get distracted. He can’t. “I got a dog. She’s a pit bull. I know,” he places a hand over his heart, gasping in shock, “not a pomeranian.” He gives a little sideways smile. “I’m still terrified of the yappy little things. But she protects me, just like you did.” He tries not to remember Eddie’s proud face when he thought he’d killed It with that fucking fencepost. “Anyway, I named her Sunny. It’s supposed to be short for Sonia, but something in me decided that having to remember my lost love every time I looked at her sad brown eyes…” He can hear the Losers shuffling behind him, stifling their own emotions at his rambling. “Your mother did have the most beautiful eyes, Eds.” He bursts out a breathy laugh, “Sorry. I know you hate that.” He thinks over the present tense and realizes it’s not accurate anymore and the laugh dies on his lips. “Hated,” he corrects, shaking his head. “Hated that. Even though, I don’t think you really did.” The tears that had been threatening to fall for quite some time begin to crash against his cheeks. “I miss you,” he shakes his head, sobs wracking his body. “All the time.” He buries his face in his hands, words building in intensity. “I never got to tell you how much I love you.” He doubles over and feels himself begin to lose his composure, picturing his Eddie alone in that dirty fucking sewer, clutching his old, beat-up leather jacket to his chest like a lifeline. “God, you died alone. And I just… I just let you.” He takes off his glasses and puts them down beside him, wiping the tears away with balled fists. “I’m sorry, Eddie.” He tries to settle himself, but his sobs have become overwhelming and he can do nothing else but repeat, “I’m so sorry.”

OPTION A

Leaning against the fence, unimpressed with his husband’s performance, Eddie crosses his arms and rolls his eyes. “You know, that’s still not funny, asshole.” Richie lets out a loud, exaggerated wail, signaling that his protests have been heard. “I’m right fucking behind you, Richie,” he sing-songs, waving.

“It’s almost like I can still hear his voice,” he whimpers, covering his mouth in a stifled cry.

“STOP ACTING LIKE I’M DEAD, FUCKNUT!” Eddie groans, kicking a pebble in his direction.

Richie reaches up to the form that has closed in behind him, pulling Bev closer as she drapes her arms around his neck, kneeling. “I’m sorry we made you leave him down there, Rich. There was no other way.”

Jaw dropping a little, Eddie huffs out a shocked, “Bev, not you too.” Normally, Richie’s little monologue goes on by himself and everyone else lets him go. Maybe because five years is a big anniversary or maybe because there’s enough distance between them and It now, there seems to be a bigger emphasis this year. “Don’t fucking encourage him.”

“We just, we couldn’t risk it. The building was crumbling and we never would have made it back out,” Bev adds over his protests, her own voice quivering.

Eddie looks over at the man next to him and smacks him in the arm. “Ben, come get your woman,”

He just shakes his head in response, looking down at his feet. “Your man started it,” he points out. At least he can find comfort in the fact that Ben won’t joke about his near-death experience. Unlike Mike and Bill, who’ve moved forward, adding themselves to the unfolding melodrama.

“It never would have happened if I hadn’t called you all back here. But,” Mike chokes out, reaching his hand for Richie’s shoulder, “it’s over now.” Richie rubs his hand over the top of Mike’s and accepts his glasses being replaced on his face. “It’s done. We can move on.” He nods, locking eyes with him. “We’ll find you someone new, Rich.”

Sniffling pathetically, he gives an exaggerated shake of his head. “Nope, never.” He flings himself forward as though trying to dig through the rubble to get into the sewers beneath Derry. “There’ll never be anyone to replace my Eddie Spaghetti. Just let me be with him.”

Eddie turns around, resting his elbows on the fence and hanging his head. “Oh, here he goes,” he adds as soon as he sees that Bill has opened his mouth. Beside him, Stan shakes his head, bewildered at their antics.

“I’m sure that, in time, you’ll heal. In the meantime, the three of us are always open to making it a foursome. Isn’t that right, Stan?” Bill asks, looking up at the missing member of their triad.

“Could you not bring me into this?” he responds, stepping closer to Eddie in protest.

“I appreciate the offer, but it would all be meaningless, just like my whole life. It would be empty sex and I couldn’t do that to you boys,” Richie says, patting bill on the cheek. “I love you,” he looks between them sadly. “I love you all, but not in the way that I loved him.”

Eddie turns back to the dogpile of Losers in front of him. Cupping his hands around his mouth, he calls out his trump card. “I’m running away with Stan and Ben. You know, people who don’t make light of me almost dying to save your sorry ass!” Richie sits bolt upright, one ear turned up like a dog. “I’m leaving you, Richie,” he adds for emphasis.

Turning around on his knees, Richie blinks at him, as though he had risen from the dead. “Eddie?!” He stands, taking a few slow, hesitant steps toward him. “Eds?!” He lifts his husband from the ground and spins him around, shrieking out a blissful “EDDIE SPAGHETTI!!!!!”

Swatting at his arms and kicking his feet, Eddie squirms. “Put me down, asshole.”

Doing as he’s told, but only to suit his own needs, he places his hands on either side of his neck and observes him carefully, turning his head from one side to the other. “Could it be?!” he asks, tracing his finger along the fading white scar on his cheek, “Is it you?!”

“Stop it, would you?” Eddie says, fighting off laughter.

Richie leans back for a moment and untucks the front of Eddie’s shirt, raising it to expose the scar on his chest and kiss it once before moving on to smack a cartoony kiss on his mouth. “Back from the dead! My one and only wish! My one true love!” He pulls him forward by the hands and spins around. “Bert to my Ernie!” He stops and kisses him. “Lime to my coconut!” He pulls him closer and kisses him again, a little more tenderly, knowing Eddie can’t complain about this part. “Frosty to my french fries!” Eddie scrunches his nose because Richie knows that particular quirk grosses him out. “Chill to my Netflix!” He adds, pressing their hips together first before kissing him again.

“Are you done?” he asks, wanting to get the fuck away from this part of the trip as quickly as possible.

Richie gives a sideways smile. “Almost,” he says and Eddie sighs, staring up at the sky. Richie almost wishes he hadn’t lied about being almost because he can’t think of another one, but he can’t back down now. He spits out the first thing that comes to mind and instantly regrets it. “Red Balloon to my sewer grate?”

There’s a collective groan from the Losers, including not one but three separate iterations of “Beep beep, Richie,” one from Bill, one from Bev, and one from Stan,

“Okay, I’m sorry,” he says, throwing his hands up in surrender, laughing and accepting every smack and kick that lands his way. When their assaults die down, his town grows serious and he locks eyes with Eddie. “Every day, I wake up knowing how close I was to losing you and…” he shakes his head, trying to dislodge the image of Eddie’s pallid face, mouth dripping blood, gasping for breath from his mind. He can hardly remember the minutes between Pennywise’s death, pulling Eddie to his feet, Ben taking him from him, suddenly understanding everything, and arriving at Derry Gen, but he knows that, in the deadlights, he saw them leaving him and he couldn’t let that happen. “I can’t. I can’t imagine going on. You know that’s why I do this every year, right?” He laughs when Eddie shakes his head no. “It’s a very…” he trails off for a moment, looking for the right words, then nods, slipping into a dead-on Michael Caine impression, “‘Young Lad, what day is it? Why, it’s Christmas day, Mr. Scrooge!’ feeling every time we come back here and the deadlights-of-Christmas-Yet-To-Come scared the shit out of me.” He rests his forehead against Eddie’s, sighing a little. “I saw that broken man and…” Richie rubs his thumb over Eddie’s and smiles. “I’m just so grateful that you’re here. And you’re alive. And you love me.”

Eddie smiles back, definitely understanding the second chance they were given. “I don’t know why sometimes.” He pulls Richie closer when he gives an overdramatic pout, “But I love you more than anything.” Tugging Richie into a kiss, forgetting momentarily that the other Losers are, indeed, right there, he feels himself melt into his husband. He’d let him give that performance once a week if it would help him remember that this is real. When they pull apart, he nods over his shoulder at the street where the rest of the Losers have started heading back toward town. “Can we get the fuck out of here now?”

Draping his arm over Eddie’s shoulder, Richie acquiesces easy enough. “Whatever you wish, Jelly to my Peanut Butter.”

Bumping his hip against his, he laughs, “Okay. I wish for you to stop.”

As soon as he laughed, he recognized his mistake, having given Richie all he ever wants. “Cheese to my cracker?” Richie suggests, kissing the hand clasped in his own.

“Someone help me,” Eddie calls out to their friends, trying to catch up to them, but never letting go of his hand. Richie gives himself a smack on the forehead, “Spaghetti to my meatballs! How have I never used that one before?!” he cries out, capturing Eddie in his arms and kissing his neck exaggerated. Eddie thinks, for a moment, that this must be the closest thing to riding off into the sunset they’ll ever get.

OPTION B

Ben looks down at Richie, sympathetically. Over the last five years, he’d let himself wonder occasionally what would have happened to him if it had been Bev that died and he still can’t fully grasp it. All he knows is that he will let Richie do whatever he needs. “Let’s give him a minute,” he suggests, pulling the rest of the Losers out into the street, giving him some privacy to grieve.

Weeping, Richie rocks back and forth a little, arms wrapped around his middle. “Eddie, I’m sorry. I’m so, so fucking sorry. I should have done something. I shouldn’t have let them…” His breath hitches in his throat and the thought falls away. “They dragged me away. I wanted to stay there with you.” He clamps his eyes shut, hoping that he can stop the tears from falling. When that doesn’t work, he just stares forward into the rubble. “You never fucking knew. You died alone. You never should have been alone. I…” He tries to steady his breathing, but can’t. He’s too far gone for that. “God, the next morning, I tried to come back and find you from the Barrens side. I tried. The caves had all collapsed. I couldn’t get to you. Fuck, I tried. I walked the canal, trying to find another entrance, but every one was blocked.” He wondered, then, how Derry hadn’t flooded. Now, he wonders how he’s not drowning in his own pathetic tears. “I love you. I’ll love you every day until I die.” He says, out loud, for the first time since his memories returned. Sure, he’d admitted it to himself, even let the other Losers guess it, but he couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud. Even now, he didn’t think it could do him any good. He was just talking to hear himself talk. But isn’t that what he always did? “I don’t know if I ever would have told you. You married a woman. You were married. I’m disgusting.” He pulls a necklace out from beneath his t-shirt like Eddie could see it. “I wear your wedding ring on a chain around my neck like you were married to me. I just…” He trails off, realizing how truly fucked it sounds. “I found it in your room and I, uh, I couldn’t leave it. What kind of fucking psycho wears his dead ex-boyfriend’s wedding ring?” He gives a bitter laugh to himself, imagining for a moment that it was Eddie who said it and not him. “I never would have told you that I still loved you, knowing you were married.” He shakes his head a little and finally lets his arms fall to his thighs. “I mean, I’m better about myself now. I even, uh, I even joke about my sexuality, now. Like, openly,” he widens his eyes a little, an unspoken ‘yeah, I know,’ that needn’t be done, “in public even.” He takes a deep breath and thinks about the first time a paparazzi picture surfaced of him with his arm around Bev and some late-night host asked him about it and he’d laughed openly, brightly. When the guy asked why, he answered that the plumbing wasn’t right. He didn’t care about mentioning it, but his phone hadn’t stopped ringing to the point that he just shut it off when he got home. “My manager isn’t crazy about that but it’s not the 80’s anymore. It’s still not safe but, I figure, fuck it, I came out of the sewer unharmed, I owe it to myself to have given the closet the same treatment.” He smiled, remembering all the times Eddie had tried when they were teenagers and together, to make him more comfortable with the idea of being out publicly. He could only hope that Eddie could see him and be proud. That’s what Stan’s letter to him had said. Be proud. “I owe it to you.” Hearing the shuffle of feet heading back into the yard, he sniffled, fighting to regain his composure. “Okay, well, the other Losers are starting to get restless, staring at me crying and all. Ben and Bev are getting married.” Pausing for a response that would never come, he smiles. “I know, finally.” He stands up and shoves his hands deep into his pockets. “Mike and Bill are getting used to one another again. It’s cute… I think.” He swallows thickly and glances over his shoulder. Just Bev, still giving him a respectful distance. He’s glad. “Being around them just sort of hurts,” he admits to no one. He smiles a little, wiping away the slowing tears. “I remember when the four of us would go down to the clubhouse for double dates and ignore each other, just being safe together. It was nice.” It was. He misses that terribly, he thinks. He feels like he’s floating and chases the unwelcome phantom voice from the back of his head. “Now… I just… uh…” He stammers ineffectively, trying to come up with more things to say. He doesn’t want this moment to be over. When it’s over, he’ll have another year before he has another excuse to be in the place that makes him feel like his conversations with Eddie can be heard. “I can hardly be in the same room with them alone. It makes me wonder what we could have been. If you’d have left her. If we’d have…” He trails off one last time and chokes out a sob. “I fucking hate the word ‘If.’”

“Richie?” Bev calls from the garden gate. Her voice is quiet, but he hears her. He just… He doesn’t want to let her talk him away from him again.

He leans forward and touches the flower gently. “I love you,” he whispers.

Heading up the path, she reaches a gentle hand out to his shoulder. “Rich, honey?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m coming,” he says, moving toward her and letting her arm drop to his waist, edging him forward, but not before casting one more look back at what remains of the house on Neibolt street. What remains of Eddie.

“You okay?” Ben asks when they reach him, before heading to where Bill and Mike stand a few houses down.

He shakes his head and accepts his outstretched arm around his shoulders, appreciating the steady, grounding weight. “No,” he says quietly, for once telling the truth, and not letting some bullshit fall out of his Trashmouth.

“That’s okay. You don’t have to be,” Ben says, nodding.

Bev squeezes him tighter. “Not today, and not with us.”

When the five remaining Losers find themselves together once more, they wrap Richie in a tight hug. He appreciates it, but he knows that once they pull away, it’ll be back to his new normal. Alone.

#choose your own adventure #reddie #it movie #it 2017 #it 2019 #Richie x Eddie #Richie Tozier x Eddie Kaspbrak #adult Richie #richie tozier #eddie kasbrak #adult Eddie #the other losers and their relationships are mentioned but like... this is reddie

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james-stark-the-writer · 5 years

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AYATO and OWAD UPDATE

There's like 1500 more words left to write. Should be done in two weeks. College is keeping me busy rn.

Which btw is going super well, not that anyone asked. It's hard in terms of keeping track of everything but the actual content isn't super difficult so far. Queer Studies might be harder than I thought tho, ngl.

Anyway, back to the important stuff, writing is still going, although it is super slow. You shouldn't be too worried about it but content might be slow (ugh, I know it's fucking annoying) because now the only free time I have to write is Fridays, Saturdays and Sundays unlike my previously entire week schedule. But hey, at least I'm making progress. So, I word vomited El's section, moved past it and into Aaron's so he's the last pov on the chapter unless I decide to make the book not PG13 (lol like it already is. But you know what I mean). If I do decide to not keep it PG, Ingram might have a short pov but idk yet.

Anyway, also, haven't really worked on OWAD for a few days, haven't even edited the flash fic fully. Just been focusing on getting Interlude 7 for AYATO together since I need to plan it out in advance to the rest of the book and then divide the chapters accordingly. Its a bunch of work but it shouldn't be too much of a problem as long as I can get my shit together (which let's face it isn't very likely). But, OWAD content is coming, hopefully next week, or maybe this weekend if I finish editing the flash fic. So, sorry about the delays. College is just...hectic.

But, as you might have noticed, I'm not as active as usual on tumblr. That's because tumblr takes a pot of time to go through, so I usually only do tumblr past 4 or 5 pm when all my classes are done. Anyway, until then, please go follow me on Twitter to keep up with everything and it literally costs you nothing anyway. But, if you are, for some reason, interested in what's going on with me, feel free to follow me.

Anyway, that's it for today. Depending on how the weekend goes, you might have content for once so look out for that. Anyway, hope you are having a great day.

AYATO taglist: @inexorableblob @hell-yeah-fantasy @lilac-written @aurumni-writes @vviciously @the-real-rg @three-seas-writes @cawolters @writersloth @emilymustwrite @westviews @godofdiverseinterests @alessia-writes @mariahwritesstuff @noahanthonyart @meafeminas @death-over-coffee @vannahhere @ohlooksheswriting @yourwritingisgay @grimmwrites @leo-november @vhum @scrunchiestudies @adventurebeneaththewords @shamelesslypoetic

OWAD Taglist: @milovelylife531 @probablynothumanish @alicethething @the-children-of-the-stars @theswordofpens @scintillations-of-the-scribblers @thallencambricaltran @sunny-smiles-and-teary-eyes @jaywrites101 @morriganwrites-0124 @madness-malkavian @meafeminas @moody-bluesss @ohlooksheswriting @madammuffins

#Writeblr #Writblr #Writing #Oc #Wip #AYATO #Owad #Update #just an update #james talks

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twentyonepilotsficlibrary · 6 years

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Miscellaneous Fandoms Fic Rec Masterlist

This is something new we’re trying out. In our admin group chat we all started talking about our other fandoms/pairings we read and thought it might be fun to share some of our favorite fics.

I know not everyone will be into this idea but i think it’s easily ignored if it’s not your cup of tea. Otherwise we hope you enjoy this mess of fics, maybe you’ll find yourself a new pairing, or maybe you’ll get inspired to write Joshler.

we hope you enjoy!

**this will be a long post**

Madi’s recs

Teen Wolf - Sterek (Stiles Stilinski & Derek Hale)

Cornerstone by Vendelin (6/6 | 83738 | Explicit)

Suffering from PTSD, ex-Marine Derek Hale moves back to Beacon Hills to open a bookshop and find a calmer life. That’s where he meets Stiles, completely by accident. Stiles is talkative, charming and curious. Somehow, despite the fact that he’s blind, he’s able to read Derek like no one else.

//PTSD //anxiety attacks

No Homo by orphan_account (12/12 | 84092 | Explicit)

Stiles' sophomore year starts something like this: 3 FourLokos + 1 peer-pressuring cat - 1 best bro to end all best bros = 1 Craigslist ad headline that reads "str8 dude - m4m - strictly platonic". Derek is the fool who replies.

//internalized homophobia

We Got Claws by Onlymystory (15/15 | 34914 | Mature)

Peter, Isaac, and Scott get de-aged. Stiles and Derek take care of them.

Harry Potter - Drarry (Harry Potter & Draco Malfoy)

Open For Repairs by FeelsForBreakfast (1/1 | 34901 | Mature)

After the war, Draco works at a tv repair shop and Harry breaks things.

feat. sad boys in jumpers and more ABBA than is probably necessary

There's a Pure-Blood Custom For That byLomonaaeren (36/36 | 105549 | Mature)

The day that Harry stops Draco Malfoy and his son from being bothered in the middle of Diagon Alley starts a strange series of interactions between him and Malfoy. Who knew there was a pure-blood custom for every situation?

Transfigurations by Resonant (1/1 | 71284 | Explicit)

Five years after Voldemort's defeat, Harry returns to England to help re-open Hogwarts.

//major character death

IT - Reddie (Richie Tozier & Eddie Kaspbrak)

Yours Truly by Buttercup12 (14/14 | 51414 | Mature)

Eddie Kaspbrak has it bad. He’s bullied for being a tiny, delicate, hypochondriac boy. He’s also bullied for being very, very, very gay. Long story short, his life isn’t the easiest.

However, that’s all a piece of cake when compared to his gigantic, pathetic crush on Derry High’s most popular and oh so very straight Trashmouth, Richie Tozier.

Richie has no idea he even exists.

Right?

Wrong.

ugly moon by weepies (27/27 | 79482 | Teen and Up)

Richie Tozier hasn’t spoken a word to anybody since he came to Derry in the middle of the school year. Until he talks to Eddie Kaspbrak.

//abuse mention

----------------------

Christie’s recs

Harry Potter - Drarry (Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter)

Turn by Saras_Girl (14/14 | 306,708 | Explicit)

One good turn always deserves another. Apparently.

All Our Secrets Laid Bare by firethesound (16/16 | 149,549 | Explicit)

Over the six years Draco Malfoy has been an Auror, four of his partners have turned up dead. Harry Potter is assigned as his newest partner to investigate just what is going on.

South Park - Creek (Craig Tucker/Tweek Tweak)

Do Not Try This At Home by Marasa (6/? | 32,100 | Mature)

A post is made that night detailing the rules of their arrangement:

• Video must be taken of the event.

• Video must be uploaded.

• Turns will be taken; after one group uploads, the other must upload as answer to the original post. This ensures equal stunts and higher expectations with each stunt.

• Don’t half-ass it; this is a fucking competition!

//depression //anxiety //past abuse //drug use

The Roommate by DoAsYouWill (27/? | 277,882 | Mature)

Craig is off to college, where he is introduced to the weirdest person he's ever met. Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, (Craig can't decide), that weirdest person is his roommate.

Just your typical cliche 'meet as roommates' story, but with a lot of nostalgic undertones.

Deadpool - Cablepool (Wade Wilson/Nathan Summers)

Incognito by CQHD (Comet_Kohoutek) (2/2 | 5,810 | Explicit)

Deadpool introduces Cable to porn.

The video, Deadpool realises belatedly, is way too quiet. There's no cheesy bass line that gets stuck in his head and makes him feel each pulse in his dick. There's just the soft rustling of clothes against skin as the man strips. It's got an aesthetic to it, but it doesn't stop Deadpool from hearing the catch in Cable's breath once the man steps out of his underwear and crawls on to the desk.

Toaster by edy (1/1 | 3,339 | Mature)

If someone were to strap you in and measure your heart rate, it wouldn't be a surprise to anyone to find it'd be beating in time with his own heart. The notion is meant to be romantic, as is customary in romances, and you think it might be romantic if an uneven heart rate wasn't a sign of a serious health condition.

//suicidal thoughts

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Sydney’s Recs

South Park

Do Not Try This At Home by Marasa (6/? || 32,100 || Mature)

A post is made that night detailing the rules of their arrangement:

• Video must be taken of the event.

• Video must be uploaded.

• Turns will be taken; after one group uploads, the other must upload as answer to the original post. This ensures equal stunts and higher expectations with each stunt.

• Don’t half-ass it; this is a fucking competition!

// depression, anxiety, past abuse, drug use

A Perfect Love Like Craig and Tweek by ugandadistrict9 (1/1 || 3,783 || Teen and Up Audiences)

Tweek and Craig have been close for a few years, and everyone says that they’re dating, but Craig has neither confirmed or denied it. Tweek has developed strong feelings for Craig over the time, but is worried that Craig doesn’t feel the same way he does.

Homicidal Maniac by Maroonedpunk (3/3 || 17,654 || Teen and Up Audiences)

They called him a homicidal maniac for years.

Then came the allegations against the coffee shop.

Tweek can’t do this by himself.

// depression, anxiety, drug use, mental illness

Spirit Animals by hollycomb (1/1 || 22,191 || Not Rated)

Cartman wants to film his amateur ghost hunting show at the site of the grisly McCormick massacre. Stan hates the idea but he can’t stay away, because Kyle will be there.

✓✓ Read by Boyue (16/16 || 65,196 || Teem and Up Audiences)

WENDY Nice picture but you have the wrong number.

AKA how Stan Marsh met Kyle Broflovski through a dick pic mishap.

// depression, alcoholism, derogatory language

Detriot: Become Human (Gavid Reed/RK900)

Chrysopoeian Heart by feistymuffin (6/? || 22,826 || Explicit)

Chrysopoeia - the act of transmuting a substance into gold

Gavin doesn’t like androids… but then again, nothing’s written in stone.

// graphic depictions of violence

Still by Terminallydepraved (1/1 || 4,277 || Explicit)

Sometimes it takes someone else nearly dying to make you realize the important things.

Life sucks, but in a beautiful kind of way by ConsultingStag (5/6 || 7701 || Mature)

Gavin stares at RK900 and regrets it immediately as its gray gaze bores into him. LED spinning yellow. Dissecting what happened. Analyzing the clues in front of it. And then a perfectly fake eyebrow lifts and equally fake lips twitch into a tiny smirk and Gavin knows that he is fucked.

----------------------

Cade’s Recs

Its Always Sunny In Philadelphia - Macdennis (Mac/Dennis Reynolds)

a beachfront of bad blood by castielanderson (1/1 | 28,366 | Mature)

or alternatively “Dennis Tries to Kill Himself: MacDennis Remix” Originally for the 2017 MacDennis Big Bang, but alas

They don’t have a falling out so much as a slowly drifting apart. Being a dad makes Dennis tired, so tired sometimes he feels like he might never have energy again, and that means that he stops checking in with Mac as often. Eventually, they stop talking. Mac gets a boyfriend. Dennis stops taking his medication.

After Dennis attempts suicide, Mandy insists he return to Philadelphia with the gang, and she will follow with Brian Jr. when she can. Faced with an unwanted recovery, a failed family, and feelings he would rather ignore, Dennis is forced to navigate uncharted waters within himself and within his relationship with Mac.

//rape/non-con //suicide attempt //self-harm //eating disorders //depression

Fullmetal Alchemist - Royed (Edward Elric/Roy Mustang)

Reverti Ad Praeteritum by Batsutousai (30/30 | 288,908 | Mature)

Unwillingly forced to serve as a human trial for a crazy alchemist experimenting with time travel, Edward Elric finds himself standing across from Truth in the moment it takes his leg from him. Armed with the knowledge of what's to come and burdened with guilt for the choices he'd made as an adult, Ed sets out to fix every mistake he ever made and save every life they ever lost, no matter what it takes.

//underage //implied/referenced dubious consent //violence

Know the Difference by ShanaStoryteller (1/1 | 9,083 | Teen)

“You’ve heard the rumors,” Mustang says, looking at Ed over the top of his latest report, “about the angels.”

Ed scoffs and rolls his eyes, “Angels don’t exist, don’t be ridiculous.”

“Of course, of course,” he murmurs, gaze sliding back down, “There have been multiple eye witness accounts, however.”

Ed slouches into the chair and doesn’t bother to keep the contempt to from his voice when he says, “Don’t depend on anything with wings to save you. Things that were made to leave always end up doing so, in the end.”

“Yes, well,” he says, “sometimes they come back.”

a terrifying clamour of trumpets by ShanaStoryteller (1/1 | 12,194 | Teen)

Edward grabs Marcoh’s arm and says, “That stone – what can it heal, exactly?”

The old man’s eyebrows rise to his forehead, and he looks like he already knows the answer when he goes, “Why do you ask, Edward?”

There's no metallic footsteps so there’s no way Al’s close enough to hear them. “I’m sick,” he admits after another moment of deliberation.

The Codeine Scene by Xyriath (31/31 | 111,257 | Explicit)

After finding himself entangled with King Bradley's gang of criminals and no way out, Roy Mustang must struggle between balancing his morals and the need to keep himself alive. He walks a thin rope, and a chance meeting of a young man, addicted to drugs and forced into prostitution, complicates matters further. By all rights, he should consider Edward to be collateral damage, an unfortunate bystander in his already difficult situation, but this is one person Roy soon finds he can't leave behind.

//rape/non-con //forced prostitution //drug addiction //mentions of suicide //mentions of depression

Fullmetal Alchemist - Edling (Edward Elric/Ling Yao)

Nothing Gold by Rydia (ungarmax) (1/1 | 22,219 | Teen)

Ling has gained immortality. Ed has not.

//major character death

----------------------

Bard’s Recs

Bastille - Dyle (Dan Smith/Kyle Simmons)

and in the morning you'll be stranded in love (it goes around and around)by brujay (1/1 | 15,717 | Teen)

“Have you seen Groundhog Day?”

Kyle took a moment before replying. “I have… what exactly are you trying to say, here?”

Dan sighed again. “I think I’m living it.” Dan gets trapped in a time loop, and he is not having a good time.

//panic attacks

argonautica orpheus by trailsofpaper (Sanwall) (note: it is private, you can only read if you have an account but it’s too good to not share) (6/6 | 17,478 | M)

Kyle, like Jason on the Argos, sets out on a journey to retrieve something important but, more importantly, he finds love along the way. Dan, unlike Orpheus, doesn’t look back.

(Dan and Kyle are flatmates in Leeds, but when Kyle wrecks his keyboard a week before he and Dan are about to enter a competition, they need to go to London to get another keyboard. Complications and even shenanigans ensue.)

Harry Potter - Drarry (Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter)

He Who Must Not Be Normal by lettered (1/1 | 40,913 | Explicit)

Potter has fame and fortune and posh clothes and all he wants is a simple life. Draco has a flat and a cat and a steady job and all he wants is a complicated life. Which makes you think this story has something exciting like body-swapping, but it doesn’t. Instead it has Indian takeaway and a blue jumper and people wanting a whole lot of what they can’t have, discovering themselves as they discover each other.

All Life is Yours to Miss by Saras_Girl (4/4 | 114,741 | M)

Professor Malfoy's world is contained, controlled, and as solitary as he can make it, but when an act of petty revenge goes horribly awry, he and his trusty six-legged friend are thrown into Hogwarts life at the deep end and must learn to live, love and let go.

Buzzfeed Unsolved - Shyan (Shane Madej/Ryan Bergara)

i think i'm still turning out by the_tenerife_sea (1/1 | 6,325 | General)

Shane is starting to think Ryan is using him for his baby, considering how much he’s already talked her up to all of their coworkers and friends. ____

Or the one where Shane is a new parent, and Ryan is always there for him (and his daughter, of course).

#admin favorites #miscellaneous fandoms fic rec masterlist #masterlist

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asthmaqueeneddie · 6 years

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Hi!! Can you do some hc's where Bev is like the shortest one of the group, and the losers just LOVE to tease her about it?

holy guacamole yes i candiddly can

-ok, so you would think that eddie is the shortest of the losers. and you can continue to think that. but you’d be wrong. he goes through a baby growth spurt in high school. it’s not much, but it makes him tall enough to not be the smallest of the group anymore.

-eddie and ben get taller eventually, richie and stan BEEN tall, mike gets taller and stronger (my boi mikey on the football team f it up mikey f it up). bill grows too but somehow manages to still be smaller than stan. that leaves bev to be the smallest bean

-the losers are obviously all very protective over bev, especially after she made the decision to come back to Derry to be with them for high school. her homecoming was not well-received by some of the female population at Derry high. richie made the rule of “we can mess with bev but if you even try it we will literally remove your kneecaps from your body”. they’re very much like brothers in a sense

-but that means that they also tease her like brothers too. richie likes to knock sunglasses off her face randomly. like she’ll be in the middle of a conversation on a sunny day and richie will just reach over and smack them off her face.

-bill didn’t want to participate in the passive bullying at first but he slowly came around. sometimes he’ll rest his arm on bev’s head when they’re standing next to each other or purposely stand in front of her when she’s trying to see something ahead.

-stan will walk past her while she’s jumping for something on a high shelf and instead of helping her he’ll just move it to the next highest shelf.

-”really stan? you could have helped.”

-”and you could have been born with longer limbs but such things are just not empirically possible.”

-mike’s nice about it, he tacks on little nicknames revolving around her height but he does it in such a loving way.

-”see you tomorrow, shortstack.” “hey, peanut, i was just looking for you.”

-and bev was pissed about it at first but she’s grown to love it and expect it. and, again, they’re allowed to do it all they want but if johnny what’s-his-name from english adds “shorty” onto the end of a greeting, eddie immediately roasts the guy about every single flaw he could ever possibly be self-conscious about.

i love bev so much and i don’t write about her nearly as much as i should ugh

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hotdogjumpingfrog5 · 6 years

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It’s Strange - Chapter Twelve

Previous Chapters: Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Chapter Seven, Chapter Eight, Chapter Nine, Chapter Ten, Chapter Eleven

September 18th, 1986

It was a Thursday afternoon, and Max was sat down in her usual spot in the window that overlooked the crowd of students coming into the private school. She was now in her second year at St. Peter’s, and didn’t feel different unlike the rest of her friends or the losers, since she went to an all-grade school, unlike them, who are fresh out of junior high and middle school.

She found private school to be a lot more better to focus on, so Max continued to stay at St. Peter’s. Max still kept to herself on many occasions, she couldn’t find herself to fit in with a lot of the snobby overachievers of the school, nor did she want to. Barely anyone acknowledged her existence, and she didn’t acknowledge theirs, either. Besides, Lucas would drive by on his bicycle almost every day after school to bring her back home.

Max was still one of the frequent people Kevin liked to pick on, but other than that, she found private school to be okay. She still couldn’t believe that Kevin was Ben’s cousin. They were nothing alike; Kevin was an obnoxious twit who thought he was a ‘cool guy’, but Ben was the peacemaker of the losers club, and when the losers joined Mike (Wheeler)’s group, aka the party. Ben also knew how to treat people with kindness, and that’s what everyone loved most about Ben.

As Max was about to make her way to class after the last lunch bell rang, she got shoved right into the lockers.

“Hey ginger boy.” Kevin said smugly

“Wow Kevin, haven’t seen your sickening presence in a while.” Max replied

“You disgust me.” said Kevin, “I’m surprised you came back here, I honestly thought you were going to go back to public school with your negro of a boyfriend and other idiot friends.”

“Did you treat Ella like you did with me or?”

“You mean Benny boy’s sicko friend Edweirdo’s twin sis? Hell yeah, probably equal to you,” Kevin continued, “Maybe it’s because you both look ridiculous and are the most painful introverts I’ve ever met.”

Nothing wrong with being an introvert, Kevin. Max thought, Fuck off

It was true though, Max was only ever comfortable around her friends. Same with Ella (unlike Eddie), Will, Mike (Hanlon), Stan, and that’s all she could really think of at that moment. The rest of Bill and Mike (Wheeler)’s group were either extroverted, or in the middle, but what’s a group without both?

Max vaguely remembers the day Ben and Stan were over at Lucas’, and when Ben revealed about Kevin.

Right after learning about that, she remembers asking Ella about it, and she had told Max after switching to public school with her brother and the rest of the losers about what Kevin was like before she left private school, and Kevin hadn’t changed since, either. El mentioned to Max about what Kevin was like, and she was right. It all matched up; always critizing, goes around thinking he’s all that, says the rudest things, calling you out/tattle tailing for every little thing, and so on.

Max also remembers Ben mentioning about how Kevin had insulted him, El, and the rest of the losers back in December when they were up, and his Aunt Jean didn’t care, even though it was completely Kevin’s fault.

“So, ginger,” Kevin said while putting his hand on the locker, making a loud thump, “Make sure you, Kaspbleh, her brother Edweirdo, your negro boyfriend, s-s-stuttering Bill, frogface, frogface’s brother, zombie boy, that Jew, Ben, and the rest of you losers get a grip and stop being such idiots.”

When he walked down the hallway, Max gave him the bird while his back was turned, and she always did, just like she did with Billy. Though Billy was a lot worse than Kevin.

Frogface

She thought the word sounded familiar, but couldn’t figure out where it came from.

September 27th, 1986

Stan sat in the living room on a partly sunny afternoon, waiting for the few people of the losers and the party of that were actually interested in this hobby that not a lot of people would normally take interest in; bird watching.

In the living room, the Uris’ placed two Hanukkah candles on each shelf, and a bronze Star of David next to the window, which the sun would occasionally gleam down on, along with a few photos of Stan’s parents before they got married, photos of Stan when he was younger, and a few pictures from Stan’s Bar Mitzvah two years ago.

Stan was glad he had a few friends he could count on to go bird watching with him every once in a while, he usually did it by himself or with Mike Hanlon, but today Stan wanted a few others to join him.

Previous day at school, him, Bill, Richie, and Eddie were walking along the hallways of Derry High, when the subject came up again.

“S-S-Sorry S-Stan, I n-need to s-stay at home with G-G-Georgie while my p-p-parents go on this t-t-two week c-cruise in S-San Diego.” said Bill, “B-Besides, that’s n-n-not my thing n-no offense.”

“None taken.”

“Didn’t my sister, Mike, and Ben go with you last time?” said Eddie, “No offense but that’s not really my thing either.”

“Yeah, they said they would come.” Stan responded

“You guys are such dweebs.” Richie laughs, “While you four go bird watching I will be knocking up Mrs. Uris.”

“Richie, you idiot!” Stan said in annoyance

“Beep beep R-R-Richie.” said Bill

“This is high school, not grade seven.” Eddie said, tired of his weird mom jokes that he continued with, “Besides, we’re all virgins in this group.”

“Not me,” said Richie, “Mrs. K don’t count. What do you think I’m doing as soon as you and El fall asleep each night?”

“That is so not funny.”

Stan stood up, looking out the window while on the lookout for Ben, Mike (Hanlon), Ella, Max, and Lucas.

“You know Stan,” his father walked in, “I’m glad you are going bird watching with your friends, you haven’t done that in a long while.”

He was now close to the same height as his father, Stan now standing 5′9″

“Yeah, it’s fun.” Stan responded, his focus out the window

“Just make sure you’re back by 6:30, tomorrow is Sunday and we have a service to go to.” said his father

Stan looked at his watch, and it was now almost 2:30.

A few minutes pass by, and Max and Lucas are the first ones to arrive on their bike, along with Ben, Mike, and Ella who came together shortly after.

The six of them made their way to the barrens, which the grass was turning an almost yellow colour from the fall air, and the water was now a lot colder, so no one really bothered to go through it that much.

“Will this be one of the last bird watchings we do this season?” Lucas asked

“Maybe one of them,” Stan responded, “We’re in high school, so that will take up a lot of time, and there aren’t as many birds around in November through March.”

Each of them went in different areas of the barrens area, Stan and Mike went into the grassy field, Max and Ella looked down the river, and Ben and Lucas went into the forest

Stan and Mike sat down together in the long grass that was swaying in the wind, and they laid down, taking in the 10 degree breeze while listening for the occasional chirp before they would sprout back up again.

“You know, I really like doing this with you.” said Mike, “We’ll defintley do this again during the spring, right?”

“Yes, defintley.” Stan smirked, “But maybe we’ll all do one more next month, before all the sparrows and blue jays leave.”

“Yeah, otherwise we will only spot more crows than the ones in my grandfather’s backyard.” said Mike

They both chuckled, while continuing to lay back, staring up into the sky.

Meanwhile, Max and Ella were well into the bird watching as much as Stan was, the two of them managed to spot a woodpecker and two sparrows.

They sat down by the river for a few minutes, listening for more birds over the sound of the flowing river.

“How’s Eleven doing, and the others?” Ella asked

“She’s good,” said Max, “Hopper wants her to stay in the house a bit more since October is coming, but Mike is up there almost every week. She seems to like me a bit more.”

“Told you she’d get used to you.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” said Max, “How’s Eddie by the way?”

“Annoying and bossy as always, and has become a lot like our mom since he saw that weird thing on the Fourth of July.” said Ella

“Tell me about it,” says Max, “Brothers are awful, but yours is not as bad as mine, trust me. Aren’t you and Eddie turning 15 in a few days?”

“Yeah,” El said, “Second of October.”

“Oh, happy early birthday!”

“Thanks,” El responds, then notices a shadow in the trees

She rubs her eyes thinking it’s her mind playing tricks, but it wasn’t. It was still there, and she could feel whoever It was watching them, and was starting to feel creeped out. Ella points out what she saw to Max, but Max convinced it was just a bunch of twigs cluttered together

“No it’s not,” Ella whispered, “I’m staring right at it, can’t you see it?”

Max felt goosebumps across her body, and remembered the strange man she was in the woods of Hawkins while waiting for Mike (Wheeler) and the rest of their group. This was a year ago, but it all came back to her.

“What does it look like?” Max asked nervously

“Kinda tall, trenchcoat, can’t see the face -”

That’s all it took for Max to say “Let’s go!” and drag her by the arm, going more closer to the group, Max wondered why she couldn’t see It or whoever it was.

Ben and Lucas find this opening in the woods behind the barrens, after about 20 minutes of looking for a good bird-watching spot.

They came close to this steep hill on the edge, where there was a road railing at the top of that hill.

Ben knew that spot well, and insisted they move somewhere else. He got bad flashbacks from Henry Bowers and his gang, and he hasn’t thought about them since almost a year ago when Bill dreamt about them at a sleepover they had with Stan and Richie.

That’s weird, Ben thought, he forgotten they even existed, and wondered why he thought about them just now, even though it has been well over two years since he thought about them, aside from the sleepover at Stan’s last November.

“Let’s go somewhere else,” said Ben, “I think I found a good spot over there that we just passed.”

“Sounds cool, it is kinda creepy over here anyway.” said Lucas, “Speaking of creepy, my sister Erica was acting kind of weird the night before last.”

“What do you mean?” Ben asked

“Well, I know this sounds strange, but I woke up, and could have sworn I heard screeching sounds. Kind of similar to those demogorgons me, Mike, and our group in Hawkins defeated, while you guys defeated that clown of whatever.” Lucas continued, “Anyhow, I was going to go in my parents room, then Erica said something like ‘Time to float’ or whatever, it was weird.”

Everything Lucas had said made Ben’s skin crawl.

“Shit,” said Ben, “Pennywise, the demogorgon, Henry Bowers and his goons, how come we’re only thinking about this now? After almost two years of all that, those memories only come back to us now. Why is that?”

“I don’t know,” said Lucas, “But we did manage to defeat all of them. As different groups. I don’t know, maybe it’s because this area of the forest is creepy, and I guess that bad experience you bad with those bullies...”

“Let’s just move along,” said Ben, “We are out here bird watching, not looking for something creepy.”

So far Ben and Lucas had the least amount of luck with the birds, the birds seemed to be more out in the open rather than in the woods. But it was a sunny and clear afternoon after all.

The two of them had only spotted a few crows, with the occasional sparrow or two. Time was passing ever so slowly for them, yet flew by at the same time.

It was now after 4:30, they had arrived at Stan’s at 2:30, and it was about ten minute bike ride to get to the barrens.

“Okay guys, I think we’re done for today!” Stan called out, four pairs of footsteps could be heard coming into the forest

The six of them had gathered in the clearing that Lucas and Ben were in, discussing what they found.

“We didn’t find much.” Ben said, bummed out

“Lucas, Ben, you guys look like you have seen a ghost.” said Max

“Do we? Nah we just find this area...creepy.” Lucas responded

“Yeah, we should get going.” said Max

The six of them walked along the trail leading back to the river, Lucas and Max ahead of them walking hand-in-hand, while Stan, Ben, Mike, and Ella walked behind them, going through the bird books.

“Next time Stan, we’re going out in the field.” Lucas said while he turned back at them

“No way Lucas, that’s me and Mike’s designated area.” Stan smirked

The rest of them chuckled at the dialogue between Stan and Lucas, little did they know about what was in the woods they were in. Creeping slyly in the woods, Ben’s instincts were indeed correct.

Camouflaged in the steep hill, a group of four had managed to spy on the six of them from above.

“Well well,” Henry smirked, “If it isn’t the losers and other losers of Hawkins.”

“I’m glad we got It after wheezy boy’s sister.” Patrick snickered, “Who the fuck is that other black holding hands with Billy’s ginger sister?”

“Can’t believe that Marsh girl is back, I’m getting hard thinking about the lesbian fun her and wheezy girl may be up to.” Belch smirked

Belch and Patrick laughed at the perverted and psychotic thoughts that were going through their messed up minds.

“Can we take off our wigs?” Victor asked, “These are getting way too hot.”

“You absolutely can fucking not,” said Henry, “If people know we’re still out here, it’s all your guys fucking faults.”

“What else did Billy ask us to do?” said Victor, “Do we need to ask the thing to mess with someone else or is one good enough for today?”

“One’s good for today,” Henry responded, “Luckily those dweebs haven’t spotted us. Except for four-eyed faggot’s other faggot twin and faggot twin’s other friends, and four-eyed faggot’s sister and her ridiculous friends.”

The three of them stared at Henry with such confused expressions, the amount of times he used the word faggot and the anger in Henry’s voice was just a lot to process. But they all knew Henry was the most messed up of them all.

“Let me get this straight,” said Patrick, “In Derry, there are S-S-Stuttering B-B-Bill, the fucking Jew, homeschooled nigger, fatboy, four-eyed fag, Beverly slut Marsh, wheezy boy and wheezy boy’s sister. Then in Hawkins we have four-eyed faggot’s twin, Wheeler’s weirdo girlfriend, toothless, Billy’s ginger sister, zombie boy, and that other negro.”

“Yes,” Henry said calmly, “You also forgot fuckface’s sister, zombie boy’s older brother, loser Harrington, and the other slag in their group, who Billy told us was related to that weird girl with superpowers?”

“When will the demogorogon come back and help us?” said Belch

“That’s not up to me to decide,” said Henry, “That’s up to It to decided, and Billy tells us what to do. For now we got that thing there to mess up all of those faggots one by one. Now our next mission is fuck around with four eyed faggot’s sister, her zombie boyfriend, Hawkin’s biggest slut, and that Steven guy.”

“When do you want to do that?” Victor asked

“Not yet, Vicky,” said Henry, “When they least expect it. Kinda like how the thing messed with the other dweebs in Derry and Hawkins. All one by one.”

“Didn’t those older kids try to call the cops on us?”

“Yes, Patrick,” Henry said, annoyed, and tired of answering all of their persistent questions, “But everyone thinks we’re dead, remember? They moved on; they moved on from Betty Ripsom, Edward Cororan, Barbara Holland, everyone. The cops don’t give a fuck in Derry-Hawkins. Neither did my dad. That’s why I fucking killed him.”

The other three looked down, only now realizing they too have been forgotten about in Derry-Hawkins.

“Hey, you fuckfaces stop looking so goddamn sad, you look like pussies.” Henry spat, “Come on and move your fucking asses, we got a long bus ride home!”

October 10th, 1986

It was now Friday evening. Mike (Wheeler), Eleven, Dustin, Will, Lucas, Max, and Richie rode their bikes together and ended up near the empty field in Hawkins they usually hung around. Dustin insisted Richie come along with them, even though Mike said no multiple times before giving in.

Richie had nothing else better to do that night, and the Kaspbraks were out of town for the weekend, seeing family in New Brunswick. So Richie gladly went with the party after Mike gave in

Earlier when they left the house, they opened the door to find Nancy and Johnathan making out on their front porch, unaware that anyone was inside.

Lucas, Max, and Dustin snickered, while the other four gave them disgusted expressions after witnessing that.

Eleven used her mind to pull them away, but not the violent type of pulling.

“Really Nancy?” said Mike

“Get a room!” Richie exclaimed

“Yeah, Johnathan.” Will pushed past Johnathan

Nancy and Johnathan gave annoyed looks at what the twins and Will said, and entered the house.

“That was weird.” said Eleven, looking down awkwardly

“I know, tell me about it.” Mike responded

“Kind of hot, honestly.” Dustin snickered

“Hey! Those jokes are only okay when it doesn’t involve our sister!” Richie rolled his eyes

“Or brother.” said Will

The grass was now fading to a yellowish colour, but the ground was okay enough to continue riding their bicycles for the season. It was a school night, but tomorrow would be Friday, so they were perfectly fine by that.

The six of them had made their way by the playground, and despite being fifteen, decided to play around on it. There weren’t any other children or parents around this time of the evening, probably since it would be dark in another hour or so, and it was five degrees outside.

Out of them all, Dustin and Richie were having the most fun, and were the last ones playing around in the park, goofing around on the monkey bars while Mike, Eleven, Will, Lucas, and Max eventually sat down and watched them make fools of themselves

“Weirdos.” Max laughed

“The only reason Richie is here is because Dustin was pestering me about it earlier.” said Mike

“I see no difference in the two.” Eleven smirked

Dustin and Richie’s laughs and noises fade into the background while the other five continue their conversations

“So, how was everyone’s days at school?” Mike asked

“Private school is lame as always.” said Max

“Good, we sat together at lunch and the day flew by so I think it was fairly good for us.” said Lucas

Will looked down, not responding to Mike’s question

“Hey Will, you okay?” Mike asked, while coming over his way to comfort him

Will shook his head, and grabbed a note from his bookbag, the four of them looking over his shoulder as he flattened out a crumpled up note that read:

Zombie boy

“Fucking mouth breather.” Eleven huffed

They all knew who was behind this. Troy and James, and more than likely their senior friends.

“What is wrong with them?” Will groaned, burying his face into his hands

“They’re idiots,” said Mike, comforting him, “That’s all they’ll ever be.”

“Damn,” Richie butted in, “What did that cocksucker Troy do to you this time?”

“Richie, stay out of this.” said Mike

“No, he’s cool.” said Dustin, “Troy and James are such fucking -”

That’s when they noticed a car pull up in the empty dirt road parking lot, music could be heard through their closed car windows. Inside were about three or four what looked to be girls.

The six of them stared at them, watching as they sat there for a few seconds before finally getting out of their car.

Max rolled her eyes, she knew those four faces. Those girls that always dropped up to Billy’s house, though every time she would eavesdrop on their conversations between them and Billy, they sounded rather masculine than feminine.

“Hi there.” said the leader of the pack, while the other three “girls”, a tall dark-haired girl, an overweight girl, and a quiet blonde girl stood behind them, “Hi Maxine.”

The party recognized the four of them. Except for Richie, who was just as confused as they were.

“What do you guys want?” Max scoffed

“Billy just wanted to know where you were. Thought we would check up on you.” the leader grinned

The other three snickered, while the larger girl of the group let out a gigantic belch, making the six of them cringe.

“Shut up, Beth.” the leader snarled, “Use your fucking manners for once.”

“Seriously, what are you guys really doing here?” Mike asked, the rest of them knew Billy did not give two fucks about Max

“I don’t know,” the leader sighed, “We get lost around Derry-Hawkins, we’re from Texas, in case I haven’t mentioned, I’m Hillary Bordaeux, this is Catherine, Victoria, and Bethany.”

“We don’t give a fuck who you are, Derry-Hawkins isn’t that hard to get around!” said Richie

The taller girl nudged “Hillary”

“I knew they were twins.” “she” muttered

“Anyhow, anything else you want to ask?” Lucas said

“No...” said “Hillary”, “We better get going back home. We live two hours away.”

Mike, Richie, Dustin, Lucas, Max, Eleven, and Will watched as their car sped down the road, out of plain sight

That’s when they noticed, neither Eleven or Will had said a word the entire time they came face to face with the strange looking girls they just encountered

Will’s eyes were widened with fear, gazing off into space, while Eleven’s nose began to bleed.

Mike comforted both Eleven and Will, and Lucas and Max joined in, wondering what was wrong.

“I don’t really blame you guys for getting scared like that.” Richie broke the awkward silence, “They weren’t even that hot, that tall girl was the ugliest, ugh.”

“Richie, shut the fuck up!” Mike snapped, tired of his bullshit

“Face it Mike, they didn’t even look like girls!” said Dustin, “Maybe El and Will have this thing called sixth sense.”

“You know that this means,” Will responded, while Mike continued comforting Eleven, “We need to stay away from them any time we see them. My gut instinct told me so. I think Eleven’s is telling her something too.”

October 17th, 1986

Steve and Emma met up during the lunch hour at university, like they normally would a few times a week whenever they could. They were the only two that attended University of Maine, while Johnathan and Nancy were at Husscon.

“So, how is your day going, Ems?” Steve asked, while sitting down

“Mine’s good, what about yours?” Emma responded

“Good,” Steve said, “Law is really hard though.”

“You’re into law?”

“I don’t really know, Emma. What about you?” Steve looked back up

“I don’t know either, probably zooligy.” said Emma

“You mean zoology?”

“Yeah, that.”

A few seconds of silence occurred between the two, while Emma bit down in her sandwich, while Steve took a few occasional glances at her whenever her eyes were looking another way.

She does have pretty eyes. Steve thought, while his gaze went through her black hair, then onto her forearm, where three digits were visible.

007

Steve cleared his throat, breaking the silence, while he managed to blurt out, “So, how’s Eleven doing?”

“She’s doing well, actually.” said Emma, “Still being homeschooled.”

“I see.” Steve answered, “Haven’t seen the party since the summer. College is a lot of work.”

“Yeah”

He still couldn’t help but glance her way a few times.

We’re friends, why am I afraid to say anything? Steve thought, his mind racing, while Richie’s “advice” played in his mind, even though it was from months ago.

No Richie, not happening, Steve thought, he sure as hell was not going to listen to advice from a high schooler fresh out of junior high. Besides, grade school is different than college and university, and making Eleven’s sister pissed off was the last thing Steve wanted to do.

“That reminds me,” said Steve, “We haven’t seen Johnathan and Nancy in what, a few weeks? We need to get together sometime.”

“Like during Halloween?” Emma suggested, “My mum and sister won’t be home that night I don’t think. Just don’t invite anyone else over.”

“I won’t,” said Steve, “I’m not who I was two years ago. I’m a better person.”

“Mhmmm.” Emma rolled her eyes, smirking

“I amm!”

Next Chapter: Chapter 13

#stranger things #it movie 2017 #mike wheeler #mike hanlon #beverly marsh #ben hanscom #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #nancy wheeler #steve harrington #johnathan byers #will byers #max mayfield #henry bowers #lucas sinclair #dustin henderson #bill denbrough #stanley uris

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