#Bev giving bill and Richie piercings is everything

[greenpidge101]

hc that richies teeth r a mess and went totally hates it cause it makes him look bad and richie gets braces and hates them but he gets the brightest color they had available cause he loves bright colors

also his style of comedy is so so rachel sennott ( look her up if u dont know who she is please shes hilarious ) which is why i feel like he gets into acting in like absurd comedies and it kinda sticks and eventually falls into actually acting

bill loves drawing the other losers when they r not paying attention and little sketches and doodles cover his school work ( the others think its so endearing )

on days when his stutter is really bad bill goes nonverbal but the losers include him easily cause he is honestly kinda an open book with his intentions and emotions so they always know what he wants

eddie hates walking long distances and is always asking for piggyback rides ( adding to the eddie should hate nyc but when anyone brings it up he gaslights them cause he has always wanted to live there agenda )

however eddie loves running and is always racing people because he knows he will win even though hes short ( richie hates it cause his legs are too long and he is really awkward and oddly slow when he tries to run. if he actually gets fast he almost always trips cause he is so clumsy and then eddie is way in front of him )

bev gives richie and bill amateur piercings full parent trap style and at least one of them gets infected. when they r older she convinces ben to let her pierce his ears. eddie hates it and is always like “i am not helping when it gets infected” but does anyway

she also makes friendship bracelets and the losers freak when they find out and they all are always wearing at least two

in some an au stan becomes an ornithologist but like just in an au where the losers dont split up during the time jump they buy him a bird like as soon as they move out of derry and it is stans favorite thing ever

stan is really good at hiding his emotions but he always stims when he is overwhelmed or upset and it is a clear giveaway. he has been doing it since he was really little and now cant stop

mike loves animals and shows off all the farm animals to the other losers and also def has a dog that eddie loves but pretends not to even though the dog also loves him

mike is also the loser who everyone goes to for advice for literally anything and has the ability to make anyone feel better like instantly the others have no idea how he does it

ben loves the act of designing buildings but was never that good at math so college was a little rough. also his interest in archeology started after he read percy jackson in middle school cuz annabeth loved archeology

he also slips into a country accent whenever he gets really comfortable and the losers think its amazing ( richies country accent is just him trying and failing to copy ben )

richie and ben light up the room when they are truly happy. richie because his happiness is loud and unavoidable and ben because his radiates off him in waves and spreads to those around him

sorry thats a lot im done i just kept going

PLEASE KEEP GOING, THESE ARE SO GOOD OMG!!!!!!

♾️/10

[sunshinereddie]

ok so i just saw this art from @gloomy-prince and it made me think of a little hc!! all credit to then, so go show their art some love!!!

after the incident with bowers, as anon said, beverly immediately gets to work on trying to patch him up (bev pierced her own ears several times as a teenager, she’s sure this can’t be that much different….) but as she does so eddie won’t stop nagging her about sterilizing the needle, getting him out of this dirty bathroom and into a clean space, ranting to her about the possibility of infection and tetanus.

but then, when richie returns to the hotel and finds out what happened, he starts to panic. he hasn’t even been back in derry for 24 hours, and already so many bad things have happened that have made him want to start running. and now, on top of all of that, eddie got hurt, and richie wasn’t even there for him. hell, richie only just remembered a few hours earlier that he’s still in love with eddie after all these years, and now seeing eddie with a bleeding face, it’s all too much.

richie begins bombarding eddie, asking if he’s okay, asking what happened, trying to look at the injury to make sure his friends aren’t lying to him when they say eddie’s okay, and trying his very best not to cry because the sight of eddie in pain just breaks his heart. but then, eddie says, “i know you’re worried, rich, but it’s okay- i got beverly to sterilize the needle before she stitched me up, and bill’s bringing some antibacterial cream on his way back. these bandages are kind of old, but at least we were able to cover it up, that way it can stay clean even in this dirty place. plus, i’m all up to date on my tetanus shot, so i’ll be okay. i should pick up some antibiotics though, just in case…”

and all richie can do is… smile. because of course that’s what eddie is worried about. while richie is panicking about the fact that eddie just barely survived attempted murder and is worrying about how eddie is hurt, of course all eddie is focusing on is cleaning the needle to stitch him up and whether or not he’ll get tetanus. it’s all just so… eddie. and of course, despite everything that happened to him, eddie is the one trying to make richie feel better. richie couldn’t remember a lot from his childhood, but he did remember… that eddie was always there for him when he needed it.

richie throws an arm around eddie’s shoulders, giving him a comforting pat on the arm. “sure, eds, we’ll get you all of that,” he said, interrupting eddie’s rant about whether he should buy antibiotic pills or ointment. “but what i wanna know, is how’d bev stitch you up like that without any anaesthesia? i still remember the way you squealed when i snapped your arm back into place when we were kids.”

eddie huffed, his cheek not covered by a bandage flushing pink. “yeah, because i was twelve and that was a broken bone. besides, this didn’t even hurt that much.”

at that, ben stifled a laugh. “oh yeah?” he said. “my left hand begs to differ. i think you were holding on so tight you cut off circulation.”

eddie tossed a roll of bandages at ben to shut him up, but he was laughing along with the rest of them. richie slowly removed his arm from around eddie, but he didn’t take his eyes away from him. eddie was laughing, but richie could tell that the action was hurting his cheek.

they had a terrifying day ahead of them. all the night before, richie had only been able to think of the worst-case scenario, convincing himself that that was how this whole thing was going to end. but now, as he looked at eddie’s bandaged cheek and the hopeful smile on his face, richie made a promise to himself. he promised himself that he wouldn’t let anything else hurt eddie while they were here. they were going kill IT, and finally end this nightmare once and for all.

richie just hoped they would be able to pull it off.

[thoughtfullyyoungduck]

Do you think you could do headcanons for if Richie got a woman pregnant on a one-night-stand, and the woman just ended up dropping the baby on his doorstep, and how the losers, including Richie, would react?

- let’s say this happens a few months after Derry 2.0

- because before that Richie was still very deep in the closet and he trying to prove to everyone around him that he’s very heterosexual.

- The woman he has a one night stand with is friends with Steve, mostly because he is secretly hoping she tell Steve about their night

- (Richie thinks Steve is suspecting that he’s gay and want to nip it in the bud)

- They go back to Richie’s place on evening after getting McDonald’s and it’s fine, obviously Richie doesn’t feel anything for her but she’s nice enough that he likes talking to her

- One thing leads to another and they spend the night together

- The next day things aren’t hostile between them but it is akward because Richie is nervously fluttering hoping she’ll go home soon

- She does and they don’t keep in touch, which is fine for Richie. He doesn’t want to feel the guilt every time he looks at her knowing that he used her for his own gain.

- Richie mostly forgets about that night and her, and after Derry he’s too busy to pay that night any thought

- His head over heels for Eddie now, and he’s gearing up to tell him soon.

- He’s waiting for Eddie’s divorce to come through. He doesn’t want to add pressure on Eddie during such a demanding time but, he’s excited for what will happen after.

- So they’re not yet dating, but they’re getting there. It’s just a matter of time.

- And then Steve shows up with his baby one morning.

- He’s pale white, and the hand of which he’s hold the maxicosi is trembling

- Of course, Richie being the trash mouth that he is, starts making fun of him.

- He doesn’t understand why Steve would have a baby with him (as far as he’s heard Steve didn’t want kids) but the comedy gold is right there for grabbing.

- ‘What’s the baby for Steve? Did you father a baby I didn’t know anything about?’

- Uno reverse card

- When Steve bashfully admits that it’s not his kid, but Richie’s, the latter laughs.

- At first he’s convinced it’s just Steve messing with him, but Steve would never go as far as to kidnap a baby.

- He still continues to chuckle even after apprehension starts to take hold him off

- ‘It’s not a joke Richie, this is your daughter.’

- Instead of becoming serious as the situation calls for it, Richie begins to cackle.

- Not laugh, not chuckle or snort, cackle.

- He’s so confused, and flabbergasted and he can’t believe this tiny human thing crying in her crib is his.

- ‘I’m just the messenger man,’ Steve placates, slowly sinking the carrier to the ground.

- When Richie is finally done laughing ( it goes on for a very long time) Steve is itching to get out of there.

- He leaves with very little more explanation other than; ‘it was your one night stand from a few months ago, she doesn’t have a name yet, and her mother is refusing to take care of her.

- Richie finds himself just staring at this tiny little thing that’s beginning to cry and whimper as she kicks her tiny feet in the air.

- She starts to cry earnestly after about five minutes, not to fond of not being payed attention too for so long

- Richie tries to shush her gently, but it’s a baby and they don’t listen to what anyone tells them too.

- The cries grow in intensity, and Richie’s slowly losing his mind.

- He’s pacing his apartment, in a daze. He’s working on automatic pilot, because he can’t comprehend the fact that he just became a father, he’s clueless about what to do

- His own daughters birthday remains a mystery to him for god sake.

- If Richie were thinking logically, he’d call Steve and ask him to come back and explain everything in a better way, but he’s not, and he can only think with his emotions.

- He ends up calling Ben and Bev.

- His first instinct was to call Eddie, seeing as Eddie is his best friend and all, but Eddie would panicked just as much as him and that would be of no help.

- Reaching out to Stan also pops up in his mind, but he can’t deal with cynical saying right now. He needs people who will be sympathetic towards him and hopefully tell him what to do.

- On the phone he barely explains anything to bev and Ben, but he does tell them to hurry up.

- When they get to the apartment, Ben and Bev are shocked at seeing the little baby, and get concerned after Richie fails to give them an answer about how or why she’s in his house.

- Regardless, they step up up to the task and do their best to take care of the girl they know nothing about.

- Ben drives to the store to get formula and blankets and diapers, while Bev fishes her out of her crib and begins to slowly rock her. They’re both calm and collected.

- Richie on the other hand is snapping out of his haze, and the reality of the situation begins to dawn on him.

- Bev tries to console him but it’s hard when she has zero background information.

- Ben comes back and heats up her formula, but she refuses to drink and lets out a piercing cry in refusal.

- Even Bev’s rocking isn’t doing anything the south the baby, and out of desperation, Richie begins to cry.

- Because Bev is out of option herself, and doesn’t have a clue on how to help Richie, she passes him the baby.

- Richie is terrified of holding this petit thing that fits just exactly right in his arms. He’s scared of crushing her or dropping her and messing her up for life.

- But miraculously, as soon as she’s snuggled in his arms, she stops crying.

- She’s just content to lay there with her dad, who eventually tries to bottle feed her and it works. She eagerly drinks from it.

- First crisis evaded

- But, after everyone has processed the first major shock, Richie needs to give Ben and Bev the answers they deserve now.

- Richie tries to be as straight forward as he can, but he hasn’t had the details yet himself.

- The two losers insists that he tells the others of their group right away. It’s too big of a secret to hide, and they need all the help they can get.

- Again, none of the losers are informed as to why they have to go to Richie’s house ASAP, but they still do, because he’s there best friend and they wouldn’t be called if it wasn’t important.

- It’s Stan and Patty that arrive after Bev and Ben.

- Stan and Patty are less astounded for some reason.

- Patty doesn’t even inquire, she just goes straight into cooing over the baby fase.

- She’ll sit next to Richie (still holding his daughter) and begins talking gibberish to the baby about how beautiful she is.

- Richie agrees.

- Stan follows her lead, but he simply observes the two of them together and then sits near touching to Richie.

- ‘I should have know you’d be the first one with a kid Trashmouth.’

- But he doesn’t lecture Richie, or starts to interrogate him about anything.

- He must have sensed that Richie wasn’t up to it at the moment.

- Bill and Mike are next.

- Within stepping one food inside the place, and spotting Richie with a baby, Bill laughs, and asks him who he knocked up.

- He intends it as a joke, obviously, but when no one else laughs, he realises how right he is.

- ‘Richie... have you been keeping your baby from us for three months?’ Mike asks, a little offended.

- ‘What do you mean three months?’

- ‘She’s clearly three months old. You can tell by her development.’ When everyone just stares at him, Mike explains further. ‘I had a lot of time on my my hands after you all left Derry. Maybe I spend that time reading children books.’

- He doesn’t more time to elaborate, because that’s the moment Eddie arrives.

- It’s his reaction Richie is most frightened off.

- He’s in love with Eddie, loves him with all his heart, but he can’t ask Eddie to date a man that just became a father. That would mean not only choosing him, but also his child.

- Eddie looks at the baby, at Richie and then back, and follows it up by cursing;’what the fuck’. loudly.

- The harsh sound startles the baby, but with a gentle kiss on the forehead that Richie gives her, she’s pacified back into sleep.

- ‘Oh shit, oh no. I need an explanation, right now.’

- Richie explains the story yet again, and hopes that none of his friends will label him as an asshole at the end of it.

- Of course they don’t, but Eddie is headed up over the whole situation.

- ‘I know a lot of lawyers after my divorce with Myra, I could hook you up someone.’

- ‘She can’t just dump her baby on you without any of the proper paperwork. What if she has a deadly disease and needs to get continuos treatment?’

- Eddie’s ‘advice’ turns Richie’s complexion green, and his stomach in knots. He’s never had to thought of that stuff before, and now he has a whole human being that depends on him for everything.

- Stan snaps at Eddie to stop him from adding more stress onto Richie, which Eddie does with a guilty apologie.

- ‘Look Richie,’ Stan says to him with full seriousness. ‘You need to decide what you’re going to do,and unfortunately you do not have a lot of time. You cannot put this off, she needs a name, and a crib and everything she needs to survive. You need to make a decision if you’re keeping her.’

- Richie gazes down upon his baby. The same baby he hasn’t let go off from the second he held her. He’s so scared, beyond explanation or able to put it in words, but this is his daughter. He could give her up for adoption, and he live would remain the same, but he knows she excites now, and to give her away to strangers? He don’t think he could have the heart.

- But...

- ‘I can’t do it by myself’, he admits, voice small and honest.

- ‘You’d never have to.’ Eddie responds, one of his fingers stroking over the ring babies head. He looks absolutely smitten.

- His life was uprooted once again, but last time the change wasn’t bad at all. Richie is confident, this won’t be bad either.

- Barely a month later Eddie moves in with them full time, and becomes pops to Maggie lover Tozier.

[stxn-the-mxn]

Family || 2019!Richie Tozier X Daughter!Reader

IT CHAPTER 2 SPOILERS

Being in the town of Derry felt more surreal than anything. It didn’t seem real, actually being in the town your father grew up in. Richie didn’t talk about Derry, in fact, he never once mentioned his childhood. In the fifteen years you’d been alive, not once was Derry mentioned. The first time it had ever been mentioned had been the night he came home and started packing.

***

It hadn’t been that long since you’d gone to bed, 1:30 am most likely. Usually, you went to bed earlier, maybe 10 pm or 11 pm, but on nights when Richie had a show, it would be hours till you went to bed.

It was a tradition for you to watch every one of your dad’s stand up shows, and hope that some of the jokes you had written made it in. Richie made it his mission to have at least one of your own jokes in his set.

Tonight, he had included three of yours, which all went down well after his hiccup at the start. One of yours got the biggest laugh, and you could see Richie’s proud face through the screen.

You switched off the TV after the show ended, and as usual, crashed on the couch. When Richie got home, he usually carried you back to your room, but that night, he made no move to pick you up, pacing around their rather large home instead.

“Dad? What’s going on?” You wiped the sleep from your eyes, as Richie thundered around the house. It was around 2 am, a regular time for Richie to come home after a show, but usually, he tried to be quiet to let you sleep. Tonight was not one of those nights.

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m sorry, I tried to be quiet, I did. I jus-”

The empty suitcase in his hand rang some quiet alarms.

“Dad? Where are you going?”

“Home. I have to go home.”

“Take me with you.”

Richie thought it over. He couldn’t in good faith leave you home alone for as long as he would be gone. Surely you’d be fine if you did what he said. After all, he promised you all those years ago, when one of his late-night flings left a baby girl on his doorstep, that he would be the best damn father around.

“Only if you promise to not leave my sight.”

You held up your crossed fingers and crossed those fingers over your heart. 

“Right well, get packing, sweetie. We leave as soon as we’re done.”

***

The drive to Derry was a combination of obnoxiously singing along to the radio and you catching up on some sleep. The sign welcoming you to Derry sent a shiver down your spine, not going unnoticed by Richie.

“You okay, sweetheart?”

“W-what? Oh! Yeah, yeah I’m good.”

He didn’t believe you but didn’t bring it up again. 

The car pulled into the parking lot of the Jade of the Orient, a Chinese restaurant. Your dad seemed almost shocked by its presence. Clearly, this wasn’t in Derry when he was a kid. Richie spotted two other people off to the side and seemed to recognize them.

“Big Ben? Bev?” You trailed behind him, a few meters behind, somewhat out of sight.

“Richie?” The woman asked, not noticing you as you peered at the two adults. The taller male made direct eye contact with you, a confused expression forming. You stepped closer, not caring if they saw you at this point.

“Uh, Richie, you seem to have a fan.” ‘Big Ben’ said, gesturing behind him. Richie whipped around, only to be met with you smiling awkwardly at him.

“Oh, no, actually this is my daughter, Y/N.”

The pair had extremely shocked faces. You felt a bit more offended than you should have at that comment. The pair seemed to notice but didn’t backtrack on their comments.

“I’m Beverly, it’s lovely to meet you.” Beverly held out a hand for you to shake, which you took happily. Ben simply greeted you with a smile.

“Well, let’s go meet everyone else. I wanna see how they react to Y/N.”

The whole vibe of the restaurant felt normal until you stepped into the reserved room for what you had heard was called “The Losers Club”. Your dad, being your dad, hit the gong on his way in, causing three heads to snap towards where the four of you were standing.

The three pairs of eyes stared at Richie, Ben and Beverly, before instantly snapping to you. Their expressions were similar to Ben and Beverly’s.

“Richie, Ben, Beverly.” One of the men at the table stated, trailing off as he looked at you again.

“Right, I’m starving. Let’s eat.” Richie cheered, and everyone else just accepted that Richie was not doing what they expected. And for some reason, they felt like that was what they expected.

“Hey, Rich, would you mind explaining who that is?” Another man asked, nodding in your direction.

“Oh! Right, this is my daughter.” The three men who weren’t Ben and Bev all dropped their jaws.

“It’s lovely to meet you all, I’m Y/N.” You smiled, feeling less nervous as they smiled back. Going around the table, they all introduced themselves as Mike Hanlon, Bill Denbrough and Eddie Kaspbrak.

You immediately noticed a strong bond between all of them, even if they had only reconnected less than an hour ago. It was a similar bond that you and your father had; family.

You also noticed a different bond between Richie and Eddie. It wasn’t news to you that your father wasn’t straight. And this Eddie man, no offence to anyone, did not give off straight vibes.

It was strange, how well you felt you fit in with the group of forty-year-olds. You and Eddie found many a common interest, including joking around and teasing Richie. The more Richie remembered, the more he realised that you were basically a baby Eddie, save for the hypochondriac-ness.

It brought a smile to his face as he watched the two of you mucking about like toddlers from beside him. 

Dinner continued on, and eventually, one of the waitresses brought out a bowl of fortune cookies. Everyone eagerly took one, cracking them open.

“Huh, mine just says ‘Could’. These cookies are bullshit.”

You looked at your slip of paper, and something about the words written caused that shiver to once again run down your spine.

Welcome to Derry, Y/N! Why don’t you stay forever?

Your hands were shaking, quite violently. Richie glanced over at you and immediately rushed to your side. He took the paper, reading it quickly before ripping it up. He hugged you tightly, comforting you like he would when you would get nightmares.

“You’re alright, sweetheart, you’re gonna be alright.”

***

You felt guilty, honestly. Richie had made you promise to stay in the hotel, not to set foot outside, but you didn’t listen. After finding yourself in a brand new town, so much different from your hometown, writing new material for your dad seemed bland. 

Exploring the place your dad grew up in seemed way more fun. Plus, it was a small town, what could really go wrong? 

In your journey to the centre of town, the only thing that went wrong was the kid who almost ran you over with his skateboard. Aside from that, you were yet to run into the other adults or anyone for that matter. The Canal Days fair was drawing in quite the crowd.

Turning the corner, you froze.

Something about the abandoned cinema in the middle of the town drew you in. It ran in Tozier blood to love the movies. Finding a hole through the newspaper, you pushed the door open. It was incredibly dusty, and you felt your throat constricting. Eddie had warned you earlier about how gross this town could be.

The hallway that led to the cinema was lit up, and the smell of popcorn was on the verge of overpowering all your senses. Something told you to run, walk, do anything in the opposite direction. But your body wasn’t listening, and you found yourself in the screening room in no time.

The screening room seemed harmless, but nothing in this town really was. You turned to leave when the sound of a projector turning on echoed through the empty room. Turning around slowly, every bone in your body trembling, you were met with the blinding white glow of the screen.

Your eyes locked with the harmless, yet frightening screen, panic settling in. 

The white screen wrinkled, and two beady yellow eyes opened. A scream latched itself in your throat, unable to escape through your dust infected lungs.

“Well, well, welcome to Derry, little Miss Tozier.” The face shrunk, smaller and smaller, and became a clown. At this moment, you wished your feet would just move, but alas, you remained glued to the spot.

The clown’s glowing eyes pierced your soul and reached out a gloved hand, grabbing the screen. The screen began to tear. The scream you were holding in escaped, causing the clown to laugh. Once the screen was entirely gone, the clown made his way towards you, leaping over the seats. 

Your feet, much to your dismay, remained glued to the ground. This wasn’t happening. This wasn’t real. You would pinch yourself, open your eyes, and be back at home, watching some crappy movie and bullying it to death with your dad.

It wasn’t working. No matter how hard you pinched, no matter how many times you whispered that “it wasn’t real”, you kept opening your eyes to see that fucking clown.

Your entire body was shaking, all senses except sight seemed to disappear. The clown was only two rows away. One row away. Here. 

A gloved hand clamped around your neck, your already constricted throat growing tighter. The clown smiled, never breaking eye contact. Drool dripped from his mouth, as he growled lowly. His face contorted, turning into Richie.

“You’re useless. A burden. I should’ve left you on that fucking doorstep. You’ve done nothing but hold me back. I never even wanted a child. Your mother was a drunk mistake, and so are you. I might as well leave you here to die.”

Tears rolled down your cheeks. No, your dad would never… Is that really what he thought? Had he spent fifteen years blaming you in secret? No, no, he promised that he loved you. He swore on his life that you were his everything.

Maybe it was true… after all, would any gay man want to live with and raise a reflection of someone who he never wanted to be with?  No. You had to push the thundering thoughts aside. No.

“N-no.” Your voice was weak, only just loud enough to hear. “Richie” tilted his head, a sad expression on his face. His skin was reverting to the pasty white of the clown. 

“No? Poor Y/N doesn’t want to accept that no one truly loves or wants her. Not even her own father.”

“Y-you’re not r-r-real. You c-c-c-can’t be real.” Words struggled to form, and those that did struggled to escape. The clown dropped his Richie facade and in a terrifying turn of events, smiled at you.

His grip continued to tighten, and you could see black dots forming in your vision. The sensation of trickling blood set your mind ablaze. You didn’t know where it was coming from, but it was there, and the clown was the cause.

In your last seconds of consciousness, you heard the thundering sets of footsteps coming down the hall, but the clown had sensed them first. You felt like the world was spinning before everything faded to black, your father’s panicked, fearful face the last thing you saw.

***

“Fuck, shit, shit, fuck!” The five other losers sat, heads hanging as Richie stormed around the building. They didn’t know what to do. Who would, in this situation? Bill was the only one who was close to understanding what Richie was experiencing.

“I’m a terrible father.” His pacing stopped as his knees gave out, collapsing onto Eddie, who caught him with ease. He held Richie tightly, letting him sob into his shoulder. 

In the minutes since Richie had been too late, he was already struggling to come to terms with the gap of silence where you used to stand. It wasn’t right. It was unnatural, unheard of,  unorthodox. 

He couldn’t speak, the wave of guilt and despair pulling him out to sea.

“Richie, I wholeheartedly promise you that you are the best damn father ever. We are all going to get Y/N back, and we will stop at nothing until we do.”

Richie wrapped his arms around Eddie, and one by one the losers joined in. Y/N Tozier was a loser now. And losers never left a loser behind.

***

The sewers were cold, wet and extremely uncomfortable. It was impossible to tell how long you’d been stuck here, but you did know that you’d walked through what felt like thousands of tunnels. You just wanted your dad back.

You couldn’t shake the tiredness that weighed you down. Closing your eyes wasn’t an option. You couldn’t let your guard down, not for a second, unless dying at the hands of a killer clown was on your bucket list.

The clown hadn’t shown his face since he took you. Part of you felt relieved, you didn’t have to fear for your life yet. But God knows what he was doing on the surface. You could only hope and pray that your father and his friends were okay.

Tears cascaded down your cheeks as thoughts of your dad filled your mind. All you wanted was to be held in his arms again. Your dad was your everything, and you were his. This was most likely the longest you’d been away from each other. 

You threw a small pebble up and down, catching it over and over again. Your trajectory was off on one throw, and it bounced and rolled its way over to the wall. Building up some courage, you scampered over to where the rock was, but your mad dash back to the “safety hole” was cut short by an echo.

“Come one, we gotta squeeze through that hole. We can all make it through if we try hard enough.”

That was Mike’s voice. They had come to save you. Somehow, no matter how far below Derry you were, they found you. You ran to where Mike’s voice was coming from, tripping over the smaller spikes on the ground.

“M-M-Mike!” 

Said man’s jaw dropped and he ran towards you, and you grasped onto his jacket. Having a physical being to cling onto was calming. As you stood there, clinging to Mike for dear life, more people came through the small gap, the first being Beverly. She ran to you too, her hug even tighter than Mikes. She was the only loser who knew exactly what you had just experienced.

As Bill and Ben appeared, you could barely see them from between Mike and Bev’s arms. But they were there, and they were real and they were everything you needed right now.

“Y-you found m-m-me!” Bill looked at you surprised as you stuttered over your words. Your stutter wasn’t simply a stutter of fear, it was like his. He knew the causes of a stutter very well. And looking at the causes, he could cross out genetics and prayed he could cross out a brain disorder. Which left emotional trauma. Psychogenic stuttering.

As you remained surrounded by the four losers, quiet bickering drifted into the cavern. 

The four stepped aside as Eddie and Richie came through the hole. Eddie froze, his dropped jaw widening to a smile while Richie remained frozen. There you were, alive, seemingly unharmed, surrounded by all his closest friends.

“Y/N. Holy fucking shit, Y/N!” Eddie exclaimed, hugging the girl close to him. They had only known each other for a few days, but they were already extremely close.

Richie still hadn’t moved, so Y/N and Eddie took the first step, sending Richie into a crazed sprint as he ran to hold his daughter again. Tears blurred everyone’s vision as father and daughter reunited. 

If Richie had an option, he would have chosen to never let his precious baby go.

“Richie. We have to perform the ritual. It's now or never.” 

***

The Ritual of Chüd didn’t work. Mike hadn’t been telling the whole truth. And also, a spider-legged demon clown was chasing and tormenting the Losers Club. 

Each loser had run off in different directions, Richie and Eddie both pulling you with them as your eyes lay transfixed on the evil entity. The sewer’s tunnels were long, windy and tight at some areas. They seemed never-ending.

Until you came to a sudden stop.

Standing in front of the three doors, Richie, Eddie and yourself contemplated what to do. In this sort of situation, nothing was to be trusted. Flinging open the ‘Very Scary’ door, you all found an empty closet.

“O-oh. Well, this s-s-s-seems harmless eno- oh what the f-f-fuck?” You screamed as a pair of disembodied legs ran towards you. Richie pulled you behind him as he slammed the door shut. 

The next door they opened read ‘Not Scary At All’ and at this point you were highly doubting that. From behind your barrier of Eddie and Richie, you could see a small dog staring at you all. It also seemed harmless at first, so you waited for it to fuck around and scare the shit out of you.

“Aww, it’s actually kinda cute.” Eddie cooed, leaving you a tad confused. Richie seemed to agree, telling the dog to sit, which it did.

“Aw, that’s precious.”

The dog twisted into a beastly creature, which was truly inevitable, wasn’t it? Your father and Eddie screamed as if they hadn’t been expecting any of this. The door slammed shut, and you quickly found yourself running out of the cave, back to where this whole mess started.

As you stepped foot into the cavern, bright lights drew you in, and you couldn’t feel anything. You were numb to the world around you. The screams of your father were nothing but faint echoes.

You could feel yourself succumbing to the lights. You let them decide your fate. This was how it all ended.

Until the lights disappeared, and you came crashing into Richie. You blinked slowly, adjusting to the darkness once more. Richie cradled you to his chest as Eddie stood off to the side, amazed at what he had just done.

IT lunged a clawed limb at the Eddie, but he ducked in time for IT to get trapped in the rock walls. It was a chance to escape.

On your feet once more, you ran to meet all the losers. Clambering through the hole once more, you used the time to think of a plan.

“We n-n-need to bring IT d-down to size. If w-w-we can lure IT in, IT’ll h-h-h-have to shrink to f-fit through that h-h-h-hole.” You muttered, mainly to yourself, as you contemplated your options.

“That just might work,” Bill announced, bringing you out of your daze. “But I don’t think we have to lure IT out here…”

Bill had a plan.

Crawling through another entrance, you mentally cursed yourself for coming back to this hellhole. Bill stood before the clown, who loomed over you all. 

“You’re just a clown.”

Physical pain flashed across IT’s face. 

“A clown!”

“You’re a sloppy bitch!”

“You’re nothing!”

The clown’s spider legs weakened, collapsing slightly. The insults continued being thrown, and IT continuously grew weaker. As IT staggered backwards into the centre spikes, IT grabbed the smallest loser, pulling her towards itself.

You fought against IT’s arm, yet somehow still found yourself powerless. Even now, IT was too strong for you.

“Put me d-down. You’re just a clown. Just a motherf-f-fucking clown!” 

With a final punch to the clown’s stupid red nose, IT let you go, deflating into an ugly baby-looking creature. You ran to Richie and Eddie, the pair making another protective barrier around you.

You all moved towards IT, and Beverly kneeled down beside IT. IT’s expression was pure fear. 

The beautiful irony of it all.

She reached into IT, yanking out a rotten, yet beating heart. Each loser placed a hand on the heart, and IT seemed to be begging for mercy. For forgiveness.

You all squeezed the heart, crushing it and watching the life drain from the monster that had tormented Derry for millions of years.

IT had been defeated for good.

***   

Driving away from Derry was therapeutic. It was a breath of fresh air. For the first time in far too long, you felt safe.

On your way out, Richie pulled over on the bridge and got out. Walking over to the wooden rails, you followed behind him, not noticing the other car pulling up too. Richie traced a pair of letters on the wood.

“R + E.” You murmured, much louder than intended. Your dad spun around, catching you just in time to make the connection. His eyes drifted behind you, to the man standing beside his car.

“It was a-a-always you and E-Eddie, huh?” 

You kneeled beside him, hugging him tightly. You knew how long it took your dad to accept who he was, so seeing him recarving the faded ‘E’ into the wood, with ‘E’ standing not so far behind meant the world to you.

“Can you just go kiss h-him, for god’s s-s-sake?” You whispered into his side, making him laugh.

“I just might, so you better close your eyes.” He covered your eyes with his hands, making you laugh loudly.

“And miss s-s-seeing my dad happier than e-ever? I could never.” 

His smile held so much love and appreciation for the beautiful girl he had raised that people all across the USA could feel it.

***

“Dad! These are our s-seats.”

Your dad followed behind, making sure you were reading the right part of the tickets.

“Yep, these are them.”

You sat down first, leg bouncing in anticipation. You had wanted to see this live for years and finally, you could get into the show, with adult supervision.

“It s-starts in three m-minutes!”

If it weren’t for the sheer fanciness of this building, you’d be bouncing off the walls in excitement.

Three minutes passed quickly, and the announcement was made that the show was starting. You stared at the stage, a huge smile on your face.

He walked out on stage, and the applause was thunderous, but you knew you were the loudest.

“Yknow, my husband is a bitch and I love him so much.”

Looking at Eddie’s jokingly hurt expression, you burst out laughing, harder than you ever had in your life.

***

It was around 2 am when you all paraded back home. It had been a long, carefree night, only made better by the pure joy radiating off everyone in your family. Eddie fumbled for the house keys, eventually unlocking the door, only to be knocked down by their surprisingly strong Pomeranian, Stanley.

A minute after you walked inside and kicked off your shoes, you passed out on the couch. Stanley curled up beside you, licking your face.

Eddie and Richie shared similar expressions as they gazed at the adorable sight. Not once had either of them believed their lives would come to this.

Richie Tozier never believed he’d be a world-famous comedian, married to his best friend that he’d been in love with since childhood, with the most amazing daughter anyone could ask for.

Eddie Kaspbrak never thought he’d escape his never-ending cycle of letting an emotionally abusive woman control his life, marry the man of his dreams and have a daughter.

Y/N Tozier-Kaspbrak truly believed that no other kid was as lucky as her. No other kid had a perfect, unbreakable pair of parents like she did.

No other family was as beautifully perfect as the Tozier-Kaspbrak family.

Not even close.

***

@peteporkers @unamused-fangirl

[almondmilkygay]

Eddie & Richie’s Big Mistake.

Eddie had been patient throughout his life. He had been calm, secluded and isolated - yet he remained optimistic. It was only after the 'Gazebo Incident' as he referred to it as, that he began to lose his - dare I say, shit? Eddie had learnt that his whole life, every phobia and every fear - had been built upon a lie, on bullshit. Through the wise words of Richard Trashmouth Tozier; did Eddie make a grave, forever mistake.

"Come on, Kaspbrak!" Richie was urging him, "Live a little!"

"Like you're such a bad boy, dickwad," Eddie replied, calmly flicking through a comic as he lazed on Richie's bed. Richie's heart was fluttering but he pushed the butterflies down his gut.

"Okay, okay," Richie breathed out, "Compromise?"

"What do you propose, Trashmouth?"

"I'll stop being a dickhead-"

"-Oh praise the lords,"

"If you do something stupid," Richie finished, giving Eddie a subtle glare as he interrupted.

"What's something stupid?"

Richie had to fight the urge to say,

'I'm stupid, do me,'

And his breathing heaved as he did so.

"Look around you, Spaghetti. What do you see?"

"An asshole, his room and an X-Men Comic?"

"No no no, Spaghetti," Richie chuckled, "An empty house, and a full alcohol cupboard,"

"Richard Wentworth Tozier, you do not propose..?"

"I do indeed, Eddie Spaghetti Kaspbrak,"

Eddie pondered on his options for a moment. Have Trashmouth continue to bug you, or get flat out wasted and end up making out with him? He chuckled at the last thought, and decided on the best.

"Fine," He said finally. Richie jumped to his feet, clapping his hands like a fucking cheerleader. He linked his arm smoothly with Eddie's, before physically dragging the petite boy out to the kitchen.

"Close your eyes, Ed's,"

"You're gonna fuckin' kill me,"

"No, makin' you a special concoction," Richie explained, placing a comforting hand on Eddie's knee. This sent Eddie haywire, but he managed to hold himself together on a thin, thin thread. Richie didn't have the faintest clue of how to concoct a drink, as Eddie said - he wasn't exactly a bad boy. But he did his best. After filling a cup with some guava punch, he emptied the dregs of a Vodka bottle into the small red cup, and gently put it between Eddie's small hands. Their hands touched for a moment, before Richie's jerked his away violently.

"Shit, Rich!"

"Drink up, Spaghetti,"

Eddie did so, taking a small sip at first - wincing, before downing the rest. Richie watched in awe.

"What the fuck is this?"

"Pure fuel, as the bad bitches would say," Richie chuckled, "Want another?"

"Oh god no," Eddie laughed, too, "Got anything better.. stronger?"

"Shit.."

"Just washin' down the demons," Eddie laughed, relieving the tension. Richie nodded, falling to his knees to rummage through the cupboard as Eddie sat, his legs swinging - on the island in the middle of the kitchen. Richie stood, a bottle of whiskey in his hand.

"Rich.."

"Please..?"

And that is where shit went downhill. The last thing Eddie remembered from that night was Richie's stupid, beautiful face - pleading him to drink more, and live a little.

Eddie woke with a splitting headache, meanwhile the rest of his body was numb.

"Fuck.." He groaned, slowly rising to his feet. As he did, he felt a brain piercing pain on his waist.

"Mother fucker.." He continued droning, standing up and walking to the wardrobe mirror opposite his room. Eddie swung his shirt off of his small torso. No bruises, no cuts, no nothing. Maybe this whole alcohol thing wasn't too bad after all.

A small something poked out from Eddie's shorts. He peeled them away, clenching with pain to reveal - a fucking tattoo?

"Oh fucking fuck no," Eddie said as his eyes widened. He took a closer look towards it. As he continued observing the small inkling on his waist, the door slammed open and a disgruntled Richie stood in front of him. Richie eyes widened as he turned a violent shade of crimson.

"Richard, what the fuck is this?" Eddie said loudly, clearly - turning to Richie as he did and showing him the tattoo. Richie took a cautious step forward, peering at it as he did. He had to muffle a laugh as he realised what it said.

"What, what the fuck does it say?" Eddie said, jumping backwards as Richie tried to pry Eddie closer.

"You don't want to know.."

"I really fucking do,"

"Really?"

Eddie nodded as Richie grinned from ear to ear.

"It says, and I quote 'Richie Tozier's Bitch'," Richie said, sitting cross legged on the floor.

"You're pulling my leg,"

"Dead serious, swear on Stan,"

"Fuck.."

"We're meeting The Losers at The Quarry in twenty,"

"Fuck!"

"Just cover her up," Richie assured him gently, "How the hell did we even get it?"

"We're eighteen, dickhead. It's Derry. You think anyone cares?"

"True.." Richie looked Eddie up and down, "I'll leave you to uh - get dressed?"

And with that, Richie left the room in the blink of an eye. Despite the chaos, Eddie found himself chuckling. He pulled on some clean shorts gently, wincing slightly - chucked on a new shirt and met Richie in the living room.

"You okay, Eddie?" Richie asked gently. Eddie nodded, smiled - and put his hand in Richie's. The two headed to The Quarry. Everything there seemed normal. As the two approached the rest of The Losers Club, their hands fell - which both were painfully aware of.

"What did you two get up to last night?" Beverly asked slyly. Richie's eyes widened as Eddie glared at her.

"Nothing, Ringwald," Richie huffed, pulling his shirt off quickly, "I'm jumping, anyone care to join?"

Eddie jumped to his feet.

"Please," He said simply, pulling of his own shirt. The tattoo was now out in the open, for every Loser to observe besides Richie and Eddie. The two jumped in, leaving Bev red faced and bursting into an eruption of laughter.

"Fucking - Bev?" Ben spluttered, as Bev fell into his arms.

"He's Richie Tozier's fucking b-bitch!" She spat.

"E-Excuse me?" Bill asked quietly as Stan watched inquisitively. Mike's eyes widened as he listened in, and he scooched closer to the group.

"Eddie has a fucking tattoo,"

"You're pulling my leg," Stan said seriously.

"I swear on Stan," Bev said, placing her hand to her heart.

"We'll see," Mike said, standing to his feet and pulling his shirt off, "Come on,"

They followed, jumping into the water with an astonishing splash. And sure enough, there it was. The tattoo. Richie Tozier's bitch. Not only did it signify that, however. Eddie was free. Free from his mother's grasp. Free from every placebo that had ever entered his life. Now he just had to figure out what the hell to do about the tattoo. The tattoo never faded, unlike the memories of Derry, Maine in all of The Losers' heads. Only upon returning, and having dinner at The Jade - did the memories come flooding back. The tattoo, came last - and definitely not least.

[ddproductionsw77]

Watching You Watch Her

Fandom: IT (Muschietti Films)

Pairing(s): Pining but not established Reddie (Richie Tozier x Eddie Kaspbrak), Richie Tozier x Sandy Montgomery (OC), Stenbrough (Stanley Uris x Bill Denbrough) and Benverly (Ben Hanscom x Beverly Marsh), Mike Hanlon x Mila Roberts (OC)

Characters: Eddie Kaspbrak, Richie Tozier, Mike Hanlon, Stanley Uris, Bill Denbrough, Ben Hanscom, Beverly Marsh, Sandy Montgomery (OC), Mila Roberts (OC)

Rating: T

Description: Eddie struggles with the fact that Richie has a girlfriend, one that is actually pretty much perfect.

Author’s Note: I realized that I have literally no fics in the Losers Of ’89 collection with pining Richie or Eddie being the main focus. It’s unacceptable so I decided to change that. Hope you guys like it.

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Why did she have to be so fucking great?

Eddie contemplated this question as he watched Sandy Montgomery from across the room,  cuddled up against the side of his best friend. Richie’s arm was sling over her shoulders and with her free hand, she had reached up to intertwine her fingers with his. He was absentmindedly tracing from her knuckles to the blood red fingernails that matched her shade of lipstick and the ribbon in her hair oh-so-fucking perfectly while he talked enthusiastically with Mike beside him.

Mike was a traitor, Eddie thought as he narrowed his eyes on them and took a sip from his red solo cup, grimacing slightly at the concoction Beverly had made him. Mike had promised him that if he came to the stupid fucking party with the rest of them that he and his current girlfriend, Mila, would stay by his side. Mike was across the room and Mila was doing shots with Beverly in the kitchen. And Eddie was standing against the wall all alone, per usual.

They were probably talking about their fucking stupid band. Richie played guitar decently and Mike could drum. They’d just started playing together at the start of the school year a couple months back and now it was all they fucking discussed.

Sighing, Eddie rolled his eyes and felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned his head to find Stanley sliding into place beside him. He quirked an eyebrow and had to practically yell to the other to be heard over the music, “I thought you weren’t coming?”

“It’s Jack Colins’ party. I’m not leaving Bill alone with all these drunk baseball players.” Stan sighed, looking out at the room.

Eddie shrugged. Jack Colins was the captain of Derry High’s baseball team, which Bill had played main pitcher for since Sophomore year. He, Mike, Ben and Bev were the only reason the Losers had even been invited as the athletes of the group. Mike was the varsity star quarterback and Ben and Bev both ran track and field.

His eye line fell back upon Richie and Sandy and he felt annoyance flare to life in his chest. Before he could stop himself, he said, “Sandy wasn’t even invited.”

Stanley eyed him from the corner of his eye before sighing, “She’s Richie’s girlfriend. Loser by association, right? Those are the rules so she gets the same invites the rest of us do. Mila, too.”

Eddie set his jaw before taking another long gulp from his drink, “I know that. But we came up with those rules in middle school, when we were desperate for friends. It’s different now.”

“Different because?” Stanley asked, turning to give Eddie a hard look.

Eddie glanced away and shrugged, taking another drink, “Just because, okay? You’re dating another Loser, it’s not like it affects you anyway.”

“Are you jealous?” Stanley asked, bluntly.

Eddie nearly choked on his drink, sputtering and stammering, “What?! Why—Why would I be— I’m not jealous!”

Stan shrugged, looking between his friend and the other Losers across the room, “It would make sense, Eddie.”

Would it? Eddie thought, following Stan’s gaze to Richie, who was still wrapped around beautiful, funny, perfect Sandy. Would it make sense?

“You’re the only Loser who isn’t dating right now.” Stan continued, having not noticed the way that Eddie had tensed up.

Eddie felt himself deflate slightly and slipped his eyes closed, leaning back against the wall and nodding slowly. Clearing his throat, he glanced at Stan before nodding and looking at his feet, “Right… yeah, because I’m not dating anyone…”

“Speak of the devils,” Stan muttered and Eddie looked up to see Mike, Richie and Sandy heading toward them. He bit back a groan and kept his expression neutral as they approached.

“Hey, Stan The Man, came to keep an eye on your boy toy?” Richie asked with that twinkle in his eye he always got when mildly intoxicated. Eddie wondered if Sandy noticed it too before shaking the runaway thought from his mind. He couldn’t think like that, it was wrong and, more importantly, it was pointless.

Stanley said nothing, just gave Richie a look before pushing off the wall and muttering, “I’m going to go find Bill.”

Mike slipped into the spot Stan had been in a nudged Eddie, “Where’s Mila? I thought she was going to hang with you?”

“She went with Bev to do some shots in the kitchen,” Eddie shrugged, looking down into his cup.

“Damn! That sounds fun!” Sandy’s melodic voice exclaimed, drawing Eddie’s attention back up without his consent. He watched as she looked up at Richie and gently tapped his cheek, “You’re lucky I like you and am willing to stay sober enough to drive your drunk ass home.”

“I know and I cherish you, San,” Richie muttered, burying his face in the think, curly hair a top her head.

Eddie glanced away and met Mike’s eyes, “I can take you to find Mila.”

“Nah,” Richie cut in, looking over at them with his chin resting on Sandy’s hair, “I got it. I need a refill anyway. Eds? Need anything to drink?”

Mike moved to stand with Richie, who was finally detaching himself from his girlfriend, as Eddie shrugged and shook his head, instinctually snapping, “Don’t call me Eds. And no, I’m fine.”

“Cool,” Richie nodded and quickly leaned down to kiss Sandy, “Play nice, I’ll be back.”

“Later, Loser,” Sandy laughed, shoving him away. He laughed, shortly squeezing her hand before letting her go and following after Mike.

Why did they have to be so good together?

Eddie sighed, inspecting his cup closely to avoid looking at Sandy and thus being pulled into a conversation with her. She wasn’t bad to talk to or anything… she was actually really nice and funny, which just made it all the more fucking worse.

He shouldn’t feel this way… he had no reason on Earth to feel this way…

His luck ran out within a minute as Sandy looked around the room, her eyes falling on him as her redrum lips curled into a smile, “Eddie? Can I ask you something?”

No, he wanted to say. Fuck off, he wanted to add. But he didn’t.

Instead, he just shrugged and muttered too quiet for her to hear over the music, “Free fucking country.”

Sandy ran her gaze over his face before crossing her arms over her chest and saying loudly, “So, you really don’t like me, huh?”

His stomach dropped and he stood there for a long moment, opening and closing him mouth as he stared at her like a fucking deer in headlights.

He… he should say she was wrong, right? Wasn’t that what a good friend would do? What a best friend should do? Because he was still Richie’s best friend, right? Besides, he really had no rhyme or reason for not liking her. At least not one that made sense and didn’t make him out to be a total dick.

Finally, he managed to shake his head, “No! I— I don’t not like you, Sandy. I— I don’t even really know you.”

“And you don’t really try to,” She cocked her head to the side, “Actually, most of the time it feels like you’re avoiding me, trying to duck out of talking to me and I just wanted to know, you know, why?”

“Why?” Eddie echoed, still floored. Sandy was watching him with observant but unbothered eyes. If she really felt like he didn’t like her, it was clear that she didn’t care all that much about his opinion. He blinked and looked away before glancing back at her, “I don’t—“

“Is it because you don’t think I’m right for Richie?” She asked, tucking some of her flowing hair behind her ear, which was pierced in three places. Jesus, if he brought home a girl like her to his mother… It could possibly be worse than the way he was sure she’d react to finding out he was gay.

“No!” Eddie shook his head instantly, “That’s not it!”

“So you admit it, then? You admit you don’t like me?” Sandy quipped, a flash of something like triumph in her lush green eyes, those lips forming a confident smirk.

Eddie’s mouth slammed shut again and he shuffled uncomfortably, shaking his head and looking anywhere but at her. It felt like she was picking him apart, taking his walls away brick by brick and worming her way behind his exterior to the things he didn’t want anyone, especially her, to see. Again, he didn’t know what to say and he figured anything he managed to come up with, Sandy wouldn’t listen to anyway.

She’d already made up her mind that she knew everything. That she was totally right…

She was right, though, wasn’t she?

“Come on, that’s gotta be it, Eds. You think I’m wrong for Rich—“

“Do not fucking call me that,” Anger flared, hot and fierce in his chest, roaring up his throat and burning it. He spun his head back to look at her, glaring and continuing on hotly, “That’s not fucking it, Sandy, okay? You’re fucking perfect for Richie, you’re goddamn everything he’s ever wanted! It’s great, really, is it! I just don’t like you because I don’t fucking like you, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?”

Sandy watched him as he practically yelled at her before falling silent. She sighed, shrugging, “I mean, I don’t think that’s something anyone wants to hear but okay. There’s hundreds of personalities out there, some are bound to clash.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Eddie rolled his eyes, spotting Richie head back their way with Mike and Mila trailing behind him, “I’m leaving now, Sandy.”

He ended up having to walk home, as Mike had been his ride.

_____________________________________________________________________

Two weeks after the party, Eddie had finally started to wind down from the whole thing. He’d spent almost all his time since waiting for Richie to confront him about being a dick to his girlfriend but he never did. Sandy must have not told him… shocking, really, with how wrapped around each other those two were.

Maybe it should have endeared him somewhat to her, having some secret that she’d kept, but it didn’t. He still felt like screaming every time she sat with them at lunch, on Richie’s other side, and wanted to throw up when he caught sight of his best friend leaning over to whisper some sweet nothing into her ear. It was getting to the point where he was avoiding ever hanging out with the Losers anymore because she was just always fucking there. There on Bill’s couch, snuggled into Richie’s side while they watched movies, there in the library, passing notes to Beverly about Bev’s clothing sketches, there all the time.

He couldn’t get away from Sandy and Richie and their nauseating obsession with each other.

However, he had agreed to pattering along with Mike to a rehearsal for his and Richie’s band in their bassist’s, Danny’s, garage.

Danny was fine… maybe even cute when Eddie gave him a little more attention but he wasn’t all that interesting or entertaining. Good enough at bass, though, Eddie guessed as he sat on the couch in the corner of the garage, reading his assigned book while the guys practiced.

“We could try You Shook Me All Night Long?” Danny suggested, playing with some cords on his bass nonsensically.

Richie shot him a look, “Can you fucking sing Brian Johnson, Danny? Cuz, I sure as hell can’t. I can barely manage some of Jagger’s range so no, we’re not going to try You Shook Me All Night Long. Ideas, Micycle?”

“I don’t care, Rich,” Mike sighed, glancing over at Eddie, who was still hunched over his book, “Something from Queen? We’re decent with Under Pressure or Another Bites The Dust.”

“See, Danny?” Richie snarked, pointing to Mike, “That’s what a good idea sounds like, you should try it on for size sometime.”

Mike laughed as Danny flipped Rich the bird before starting the iconic bass line for Under Pressure. Hearing this, Eddie glanced up, his eyes immediately finding Richie. He watched as the spastic asshole looked back at Mike, nodding in unison before they both joined Danny and started singing at the same time.

Eddie loved Queen… And he loved watching Richie play. Watching Mike and Richie play, that is.

Eyes trailing to follow Richie’s spidery digits as they found the cords on muscle memory alone, he suddenly felt like all the air had gone from his lungs, like Henry Bowers had just clocked him cold in the gut. Biting his lip, he forced his head back down and stared at the words on the page before him but not reading a single word.

All he could think about was that look of earnest concentration on Richie’s face that he only got when he was still getting comfortable playing a song…

He let out a breath of air and felt his face burn. Fucking humiliating.

Humiliating and pointless.

They played through the song and followed it by striking up the rhythm of Everybody Wants To Rule The World and then playing into Bastards of Young. After that song, Richie called for a break, eyeing the clock. He sighed, “Alright, San just got off work so she’ll be here in a bit, that cool, Danny?”

Danny shrugged, “I don’t care. Just don’t, like, fuck in my house.”

Eddie squeezed his eyes shut and forced the image of Sandy and Richie intimately wrapped up together from his mind as he heard Richie chuckle, “I swear to save all the fucking for her place later, Danny Fanny.”

Jumping up from his seat on the couch so that his book went tumbling to the floor, Eddie hastily snatched it up and ran a hand down his face, “I—Uh—I just remembered I gotta go so I’m just going to—“

“Seriously?” Richie asked, eyebrows drawing together. “You have to leave?”

“I— Yeah, my mom’s got, like, a thing so I’ll just walk back home before she freaks the fuck out,” Eddie shrugged, being uncharacteristically rough as he shoved his book into his backpack and kept his eyes on the ground.

Richie sighed, watching him, “Why are you so fucking busy all the time, now? You skip movie nights, you flake out of study sessions at Bev’s and Bill’s… It sucks, we barely hang out anymore, Eds.”

Eddie let out a humorless laugh and shot Richie a look, “Yeah, because that’s my fault.”

“Guys…” Mike broke in, raising his eyebrows.

At the same time, Richie rubbed the back of his neck and shot back, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” Eddie huffed, turning back to face Richie fully, “You’re the one who’s been too busy shoving your tongue down some random girl’s throat to make plans, not me.”

“Some random girl?” Richie snapped, sounding genuinely angry for the first time in the conversation, “Sandy’s not some random girl. She’s my girlfriend.”

“Yeah, I know,” Eddie shook his head, “So, I’ll just wait the month or however long this one’s gonna last and then just hang out with you after.”

“Eddie!” Mike scolded, shaking his head.

Danny was watching the two like they were a tennis match.

Richie turned his head away, laughing to himself in a humorless fashion before nodding and looking back at Eddie, “You know what? Fuck you, Eds. At least I’ve been in more relationships than just one four-day long fling from a year ago. What are you, twelve?”

Eddie glared, jaw set as he slung his bag over his shoulders, “Fuck you, too, asshole. As there’s even anyone in Derry worth wasting my time on.”

With that, he shoved his way out of the garage and out of the house, heart still hammering in his chest and his blood boiling. Why was everyone always so fucking obsessed with how many people you’d dated anyways? And it wasn’t like he had a ton of options, being gay in Derry, anyway and Richie fucking knew that!

Crossing his arms over his chest, he made it to the end of the driveway before Mike caught him.

“Eddie!” He heard his friend calling to him, “Eddie, come on, wait!”

Throwing his head back dramatically, he spun on his heel to face him, “What do you want, Mike?”

Mike stopped before him, opening and closing his mouth and glancing away before sighing and rubbing his hands together, “You… you can’t really be mad.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?! He said—“

Mike cut him off before his voice could rise up too high, “He said what he did because you started it! And you… really don’t have a right to start stuff about him and Sandy.”

“A right?” Eddie demanded, “What does that even—“

“You could have done something about it, Eddie,” Mike broke in again forcefully before sighing again and continuing softer and more somber, “You— you had every chance to make a move and you didn’t.”

Eddie stood there in Danny Costello’s driveway and felt like sinking right through the crust of the Earth so that he could burn up in the fucking core. That would be better than this, then having this conversation, because this couldn’t be happening. No one— No one could know that he—

He swallowed and stared at Mike, barely whispering, “I— I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Mike let out a long breath and nodded, keeping Eddie’s gaze, “Well, I think you do… And you can’t be mad at him for not waiting around for you to do something about it.”

“I’m not mad,” Eddie answered without thinking, “And I’m not— I didn’t expect— I don’t— Mike, I — I gotta go. My mom— I gotta go.”

He nearly tripped over himself in his haste to get away.

_______________________________________________________________________

It was movie night again and Eddie had forced himself to go.

He was being ridiculous, he had realized that on his walk home from the band rehearsal two days before. He was the one with the problem. He was being unreasonable, he was being crazy. And in the long run, it wouldn’t matter one way or another what Sandy thought of him but it would matter if Richie was mad.

His own idiocy wasn’t worth fighting, really fighting, with Richie. They didn’t fight, well, at least not the kind of fighting where they ended up honestly mad at each other. They snapped, they bickered, they argued but they didn’t ever mean any of it. It was just the way they were and Eddie wasn’t willing to risk that just because he was being a fucking psycho.

He’d gone to Richie’s locker first thing the next day and apologized. He even taken it a step further, promising he would make time to get to movie night that week… Which was how he’d wound up in his current situation.

It wasn’t actually bad yet, he thought, laughing as he watched Beverly, Mike, and Bill playing flip cup, without alcohol as Bill’s mother was upstairs, around the coffee table before him.

Richie, and by extension Sandy, hadn’t gotten there yet, his eyes unwittingly flickering to the other end of the couch, where the two usually snuggled. His chest constricted and he almost reached for the inhaler he didn’t carry anymore before grasping the pillow he had been hugging tighter.

Stupid.

“D—Dammit, Bev, how are you suh—so good?” Bill asked, leaning back on his hands as Beverly won yet another round against him and Mike.

The red head winked at him, adding, “I’m even better at beer pong.”

“We know,” Mike rolled his eyes, reaching up to flick one of the empty solo cups at her. Beverly easily caught it in air and set it on the edge of the table, flipping it in one try before giving Mike a cocky smile.

“Where’s Mila?” She asked as she gathered up the other cups and handed them up to Ben, who took them out to the kitchen for her.

Mike rolled his eyes, “She had to work and she refused to switch shifts with her friend because I guess she’s mad at me for something, I don’t know. She said she wants a night where she doesn’t have to see my face.”

Beverly laughed, leaning into Ben’s side as he took his spot beside her once again. From the chair over to the side, Stanley glanced over at them from his homework, “Well, you must have done something. Mila is the first sane girl you’ve dated.”

“I think she’s bugged that I cancelled plans to meet her parents this weekend,” Mike shrugged, “I didn’t want to but my grandpa said he needs me all weekend to help with this seasons harvest.”

“Still,” Bill said, shaking his head, “C—Can’t cancel on the SO’s p—parents, Mike.”

Mike was about to respond when the front door flew open, causing half of them to jump. Eddie, so thoroughly desensitized to Richie’s dramatic entrances, merely glanced over his shoulder and felt his heart jump into his throat. Richie was grinning, actually grinning, not the smirk-smile thing he did most of the time, and he was alone.

He felt his palms grow sweaty as he turned around fully to greet the trashmouth, “You’re late, asshole.”

Richie raised his eyebrows at him, still smiling wide and real, “Am I? Whoops.”

Behind Eddie, on the floor Beverly shot him a playful glare, “Yeah, Trashmouth, and it’s your turn to pick the movie, too, so we couldn’t even start anything without you.”

“Right,” Richie laughed a little and shook his head to himself.

Eddie’s eyebrows drew together and he glanced over his shoulder at Stanley, who also looked perplexed. Something was off. Usually about now, Richie would make some joke about how his pick for the week was some porn knock-off of a famous movie or something like that. He’d have already climbed over the back of the couch and pinched Eddie’s cheeks, saying hi and commenting about how cute he looked.

Instead, he was still just standing there, smiling to the point Eddie was starting to wonder if he was high on something.

Stanley spoke before he could, asking, “What are you giggling about, Trashmouth?”

Richie reached up, rubbing the back of his neck, and laughed again before declaring dramatically, “My dearest friends, I have come to the conclusion that I am completely obsessed, utterly in love, totally devoted!”

Before he could stop it, Eddie felt his expression go slack, his lips parting slightly as his breath caught in his throat.

Richie didn’t seem to noticed that or anything else, throwing his arms skyward as he rambled on, “I am in love with Sandra Penelope Montgomery and I must declare my love to the Heavens!”

“Please,” Eddie heard Beverly’s voice from somewhere distant, even though he was sure she was within reaching distance behind him, “Don’t do that, Tozier. But congratulations, I like Sandy. She’s good for you.”

“Yeah, that’s awesome, Rich,” Ben, again sounding miles away, added.

Eddie blinked, feeling the air in his throat and lungs like a fire that was licking him up from within. He couldn’t look at Richie, at his big, wide smile anymore, his eyes darting to his hands instead as he heard all the others cracking jokes or talking about how fucking great Sandy was and how happy they were for Richie. He wanted to join them, wanted to be happy for Richie too, but instead all he felt was that burning and a sense that he was on the verge of an asthma attack.

Breaking into a coughing fit, grasping his throat, he muttered something about needing water and bolted for the kitchen. He barely stumbled through the door but managed, going to the sink and turning the cold water on to full blast.

Each breath of air felt like pins and needles in his lungs and he felt his eyes prickle with tears as he reached out to grasp the counter so hard his knuckles turned white. His vision was becoming tunneled and it hit him a like a Mac truck that he was having a panic attack. A full blown, real deal panic attack.

He was having a panic attack and he wasn’t sure wether he was going to pass out, vomit down his front or just fall over dead right there. All he was sure of was that something awful was happening, something so awful he couldn’t even think it without wanting to cry.

Leaning down, he forced his eyes closed, taking in one breath at a time. He started off shaky and lightheaded by slowly, slowly managed to achieve some semblance of steady oxygen flow before he felt a hand fall onto his back. He jumped, standing up straight and whirling around to find Mike leaning against the counter beside him.

Eddie met the other boy’s eyes and quickly darted his gaze away, shame and embarrassment welling in his. He looked up at the ceiling, letting out a long, shaken breath before barely whispering, for only Mike to hear, “He’s in love with her.”

“I know...” Mike mumbled, shifting beside his friend, unsure of how exactly to help. He settled on reaching out to rub Eddie shoulder, “I’m— Eddie, I really am sorry.”

Eddie shook his head, being his hands up to run them down his face, whipping away any tears that he slipped through his defenses, “It doesn’t matter.”

He wasn’t completely sure who he was trying to convince, himself or Mike. Either way it was true. It didn’t matter, how he felt about Richie, how Richie felt about Sandy, none of it. It never had. Because so what if Mike had been right? So what if he did have feelings for Richie? Not a single part of it changed what was happening now. Richie was in love with Sandy and Eddie...

He squeezed his eyes closed and shook his head at himself before turning his head to Mike, “I’m fine Mike, I just need some water. You’re going to miss the start of the movie. Just, go.”

Mike watched him carefully for another minute before nodding slowly and slipping out of the kitchen. Eddie stood there alone for another minute, feeling that overwhelming sense of dread wash over him again but this time keeping himself together despite it. He bit his lip hard and bounced on the spot, taking more deep breathes before turning around and getting himself a glass of water.

He wasn’t dead, he reminded himself.

He could live with Richie being in love with Sandy. He could move past that, right? Surely.

Eddie’s brain flickered back to that sight of Richie, smiling bigger than he thought he’d ever seen, coming into the house just moments ago. Richie, looking happier than Eddie could remember him being in a long time. That couldn’t be a bad thing, could it?

Richie being happy?

He could survive this, live with the burning in his chest. As long as Richie was happy, he could do that easily.

Gulping his water, Eddie schooled his expression into a casual smile and went back to the living room to watch whatever dumb ass movie Richie had picked with his friends.

As long as Richie was happy, Eddie would find a way to be fine with it.

[losersgazebos]

‘Sweet Tooth (For You)’ : A quarantined Reddie fic (in progress)

Eddie Kaspbrak thinks the universe actually might be trying to fucking kill him. It's not even been ten months since he got impaled by a clown-space-demon and nearly died, only for his wounds to heal surprisingly quickly after the death of IT. Patty Uris had called Bill, not long after the final showdown, and he answered the phone to an unbelieving voice, a shocked whisper, like she was trying not to believe her own words in case it was all a dream- "Stan's back." Since then Eddie has gotten a divorce, after realising he married Sonia Kaspbrak 2.0, and moved in with Richie, promising constantly that it was "just for now" and "until I get back on my feet." He was worried about imposing on Richie, but it truly seemed like he didn't mind. They'd fallen into a simultaneously comfortable and awkward daily life together. Comfortable, because eating breakfast with Richie, feeding the dog they’d adopted to help with trauma and stress relief, bringing coffee home to him after a day at his part-time office job… it all came so naturally, instinctively. Awkward, because, and Eddie wasn’t entirely sure when, he had fallen head over heels for Richie Tozier. It’s not something he can control, hell, there are so many reasons he shouldn’t love him. Whenever Richie burped at dinner, or whenever Eddie found Richie’s ashtray outside, he always wondered, “How the hell am I in love with this man?” Eddie wasn’t sure if his love for Richie had always been there, if these feelings came from a lifetime of knowing him, or if it was a case of being close and not knowing many other people in the city, but he had had his fair share of embarrassing exchanges with Richie in the last few months. Notably, when Eddie went to take a shower, unaware Richie was just coming out from the bathroom, and they both had towels, thank God, Eddie thinks, but Eddie had found his gaze lingering on the dark hair that made its way down in a trail on Richie’s stomach, to continue beneath the towel, and when he snapped his eyes back, guiltily, Richie was staring at him, with a look on his face Eddie couldn’t place. There were more moments like this, staring at each others’ lips, before one of them would inevitably pull away and make a joke, or even the time they were slightly buzzed off a shared bottle of wine, and had been joking around, and suddenly Eddie found himself pressed right up against Richie, their eyes widening as they realised how close they were, before Richie quickly excused himself and went to the bathroom. Other times, when Eddie was too in his head, he’d go out to the park and walk for a long time, but when he came back Richie was always waiting there for him, all piercing blue eyes and a gentle, clumsy manner that Eddie had come to love. Or had maybe always loved. The two have been dancing around each other for months by the time COVID-19 spreads to New York, and pretty much everything shuts down at once. Eddie has always bought in bulk, so they’re okay, but he’s hesitant to step out of the apartment, even for a careful walk. Enter, the weird tension between Eddie and Richie.

“Fuck.” “What’s up?” Eddie turns, pulling himself away from his thoughts, and tonight’s pasta. Richie is frowning down at his phone. “Nothing, just. Bill hasn’t picked up, I’ve called 5 times. Do you think he’s…” “Rich, he’s probably just with Mike.” Richie’s eyebrows shoot up and he grins, worries gone for the moment. “Ah, right. Getting plowed by his husband.” Eddie rolls his eyes. Bill and Mike aren’t married yet, but they’ve been engaged for a few months, and have made it clear they prefer to be private about their relationship. Something Richie has picked up on and teased them to death with. “If only we were all so lucky as Bill,” Richie drawls, a grin still plastering his face, and Eddie laughs. “Marriage isn’t everything, Rich, trust me. I was married for, what… ten years? Twelve-” “Yeah, but you married your mother,” Richie cuts in, blunt as ever. “Not that I don’t appreciate how irresistible Mrs Kaspbrak is-” “Cut it out,” Eddie says, half-heartedly, “But when it’s your own mother? Weird.” He shudders, and laughs when Eddie just gives him a half-amused look. Eddie has always had this banter with Richie, where Richie jokes around and often toes the line, and Eddie acts annoyed and tells him he isn’t half as funny as he thinks, but the truth is, Eddie could hang out with Richie all day. He has in fact, on his days off when Richie happened to be free as well, usually playing video games while Eddie sat on the other end of the couch. “We could try calling Bev and Ben,” Eddie suggests, and Richie nods, absentmindedly. “Already a step ahead of you, spaghetti man.” Eddie smiles wryly as the dial tone goes, and goes, and goes, until- “Oh my god, I’m so sorry I took so long to answer, Ben’s out the back with Daisy, and I’m cooking dinner, so-” “It’s fine Bev, just say you were dry humping him and go,” Richie cracks. “Beep beep, Richie. How are you guys doing? Is Eddie okay?” “Yeah, he’s fine,” Richie answers, smiling at Eddie for a second, “It’s just crazy how quickly this is all happening, you know?” There’s a pause. “By that you mean…” “This virus,” Richie says quickly, turning away from Eddie a little, unbeknownst to him hiding his flushed face. Eddie turns to continue stirring the pasta, and eventually, Richie passes the phone over. “Hey, Bev, how are you and Ben doing?” “Oh we’re fine! Daisy has been restless, but we’ve been taking her out on her daily walk, just staying close of course. How are things with you and Richie?” The words “You and Richie” paralyse Eddie for a moment, before he can respond. “Uh, good. I mean, weird, with the office shutting down, but Rich basically works from home anyway, so he’s good, and, I mean, we’re kind of transitioning to video chats for business meetings, so.” “That’s good,” Beverly agrees, “You guys know you can video chat us any time, right? Just text us and we’ll find a time, which could honestly be any time at the moment,” she says with a short laugh. “Oh, have you heard from Mike and Bill?” “Hmm, not today, I was actually thinking of calling them after you. How come?” “Oh, just Richie tried calling them before you, but they didn’t pick up.” “Huh. Alright, I’ll let you know if I reach them, then. Love you, Eddie.” “Love you, Bev,” Eddie says back, and then Richie quickly swoops in and adds “Love you, and your hot boyfriend too.” Beverly laughs and hangs up, and Eddie and Richie are left to the silence, apart from the boiling pasta. Eddie notices how close they suddenly are, and Richie smiles ruefully, as he goes to step out of the kitchen. “I’ll just, uh, be right back…” “Yeah,” Eddie breathes, turning his attention back to the pasta after Richie has left his line of sight. This would be a long few weeks of isolation.

[tozierpunks]

Richie, Bev, and Eddie being the wild child(s) (Eddie the tamer of the three) of the losers club. Maybe they’ve got piercings, tattoos, they’ll listen to music and smoke (Eddie occasionally tries but it’s not his thing, he’s vibing to the music tho) Richie’s nails are painted black, Bev’s got her combat boots, Eddie in his ripped dungarees. Taking road trips in Richie’s beat up truck.

I have this hc that there’s a payphone outside Bev’s apartment, and since she couldn’t be caught dead on the phone in her house without some flack from her shithead dad, she uses that one (it’s faced away from her apartment, he couldn’t see her unless he came out). So she gives Eddie the number and tells him to call at least three times, cause she’s bound to hear it one of those times, and that’s how they chat on the phone. She’ll call Eddie, and if Sonia answers, she pretends to be a telemarketer.

They’ll make plans to sneak out and spend the night in the clubhouse if either of their houses are too bad. Eddie brings Sonia’s sugary snacks, Bev will bring magazines or comic books, and sometimes she brings one of her dad’s beers. Both of them hate the taste, but drinking it and gagging at the taste and exchanging that UGH look... is almost like a silent promise that they’ll never talk about this to anyone else.

Because no one else will get it.

No one else understands what it’s like to love someone you hate and fear SO MUCH. No one else knows how it feels to be stuck in a box, and completely at the mercy of someone who was supposed to love you. It’s a betrayal they hope their friends never know.

Then there’s one night Richie comes by the clubhouse after dark, and he’s surprised to find them there. He honestly just wanted a place to read his cousin’s Playboy, and he was shocked to find Bev and Eddie. They jumped up just as a reflex, and it seemed like they were caught doing something.

Of course, he’s a little heartbroken because he feels like he’s on the outside looking in, and he jokes, “Wow Eds, I didn’t know you had it in you. Bev, I always thought your type was... Bill. But this is cool. My best friends... boinking.” and Eddie looks horrified and Beverly flips him off and points out his magazine.

“Were you gonna beat the meat in here? You don’t do it on the hammock do you? Try not to tear it off, Trashmouth.”

Only her one liners are good enough to match his.

They don’t tell him exactly why they’re there, but they swear nothing weird is going on. Bev isn’t ready for all that teenage junk, and neither is Eddie. He’s not really interested in girls at all. (”Er- yet, I guess,” he adds, almost as an afterthought).

Bev offers Eddie a cigarette to give Richie, “five minutes alone with Miss January” and that’s his first time smoking. He choked of course, but he does try it a couple more times before deciding he hates it. The nicotine gives him a headache, anyways. So Richie comes out and invites them to his house, and Maggie catches them sneaking in. She sees how dirty and frightened Richie’s friends are, and she always KNEW something was wrong with that Alvin Marsh, and everyone knows Sonia Kaspbrak is a bigoted, holier-than-thou nutcase...

and let’s just say Maggie Tozier was kind of a bad girl in high school. She remembers what it’s like. Sneaking out, picking locks, stealing a beer or two. Of course she’s still Richie’s mother, so he’s “in big trouble, mister.”

But his friends? While she “doesn’t approve,” they always have room here for Eddie and Bev. She makes them up little beds, offers them a drink, and is the mother neither of them had the pleasure of knowing. And that’s when they start gravitating towards Richie’s house.

Not too long later, he asks what they were doing in the clubhouse alone, at THAT hour. It’s hard, because Eddie and Bev haven’t even said it to each other. They just knew.

Then Eddie does something weird. He starts crying.

He hates crying.

It makes him uncomfortable, because it’s what his mother uses to guilt trip him. Crying never means someone’s sad. It means you did something wrong, and the only way you can make it right is by doing what they want, even if you hate it. Even if it’s bad for you.

Even if it makes you cry too.

So he hates crying, he never lets himself, because he doesn’t want anyone to feel as bad as he does. Especially not his friends.

Richie and Bev FULLY do not care though. They’re immediately there to comfort him, and it feels entirely different from what he’s used to with his mother. Strangely enough, it’s his crying that makes Beverly blurt out the truth. All the horrible things her father has done and said, all the ways he’s made her feel disgusting. All the ways he used to make her happy, because he was still her father. She talks about the anger, and the guilt, and the hate, and all the other ugly feelings trapped inside. Eddie wipes his nose and nods, because it’s the same for him.

Richie doesn’t cry about it until later. After he walks them home. More than anything, he doesn’t wanna leave them. Not in those houses. Not where they’re alone and unprotected. He gets home and Maggie greets him, but he runs into her arms and sobs. He really does love her and Went; they’re the best parents in this whole damn town - next to Mike’s.

After that though, Richie makes sure to always have room for Eddie and Bev at his place. He cleans up the spare room the Tozier’s have been using for storage, and he asks if they can get bunk beds. Or at least a big guest bed for him and Eddie to share, and Bev can have his room. Maggie and Went are proud of him; their boy has the biggest heart, and only a handful of close friends will really know.

That’s the beginning of it all though. Bev starts leaving nail polishes in the guest room, because really it’s not a guest room as much as it is Bev and Eddie’s shared room. Maggie and Went suddenly have another son, and a daughter. Bev always wanted a mother, and Maggie always wanted a daughter. Richie’s a little baffled when she takes Bev out shopping, but he has no complaints. As long as they bring back something for dinner.

Maggie inherits a sewing machine from her grandmother when Gran Tozier passes, and she lets Beverly use it in the guest room. She even starts buying spare fabrics she thinks Beverly might like.

Went meanwhile is teaching Eddie about how to fix a car, because he bought Richie a beaten up truck for his birthday. Richie knows how to change the tires, but he’s not interested enough to REALLY learn everything. Eddie however, watches Went in awe. He asks questions, gets his hands dirty, and he LOVES it. He starts to care less and less when Sonia talks at him about filth and potential dangers. He’s very, “whatever, Ma.”

Richie’s happy to see them both thriving in his house. It’s not like he’s given the shaft; he has his parents 24/7 and they’re constantly there for every talent show, every small bowling alley gig, and they’re taking pictures at every “first day on the job” even if he’s had 20.

All of them get little jobs to start saving up - they want an apartment somewhere far from Derry once they graduate. Of course, their funds are often spent elsewhere. Sneaking a twenty to the already graduated and legal Victor Criss so he can buy them booze, snagging scalped tickets to a Nirvana concert in Boston, getting the truck back when it’s ultimately towed.

And of course they’re still incredibly close with the other losers, but there’s something special about the three of them together. Bev does both of their nails, Eddie helps to perfect her eyeliner, because he can draw wings the best, and Richie makes himself the protector. He loves them both so much, and he’s finally able to believe that they both love and need him.

[nancythebisexualslutwheeler]

Tutor AU Pt 2

Part One Being Richie’s boyfriend is wild. He doesn’t have a lot of friends, but somehow everyone knows him. Triple B- Ben, Bev and Bill have no problem switching lunch tables to sit by  Richie and Richie’s friends Stan and Mike. Though Eddie and Richie don't spend much time at the table, Richie usually sneaks out for a smoke break.

Eddie doesn’t smoke but always accompanies him, mostly because there tends to be a little kissing in between cigarettes. He never thought he’d be okay with that, but Richie makes him question everything.

    ***

Richie gives Eddie his leather jacket after a track meet. Eddie very pointedly doesn’t give it back. He sometimes sits in class with it, or in his bed late at night and tilts his nose into the fabric so he can smell Richie’s cologne. It’s just comforting, okay?

***

Since Richie can never set foot on Eddie’s street, Richie invites Eddie over for dinner. He’s not sure what to expect from Richie’s parents. Maggie is short and wide and wears her hair in a French braid and smiles so hard and so sincerely. Went is tall and thin and claps Eddie on the back at least three times.

She’d made spaghetti. Well, supervised, she said.

“What do you mean?”

“Well Richie’s the best chef in the house. He makes the sauce from scratch.”

“Oh wow! That’s...” he looks over at Richie whose cheeks are red.

His parents go upstairs, and they wash the dishes together and then sit on the couch. Richie turns on Netflix. They’ve barely finished an episode of NCIS when his phone starts ringing.

He pulls it out of his pocket and then walks over to the corner of the room near the patio door and answers it. Eddie hums a song in his head so he doesn’t eavesdrop.

“I’ve gotta go. Um, can you get home alright?” He asks, which is weird, he usually drives Eddie home.

Of course Eddie can take a hint, but Richie doesn’t offer any other information which is weird.

***

It’s not the last time it happens either. He cuts dates short or straight up blows off dates to accommodate whosoever number kept appearing on his phone.

***

Eddie is at the mall with his mom when he sees them. Richie is looking good as always in a Queen shirt and black jeans, even though it’s a warm fall day. He’s holding a toddler in his arms who can’t be more than two years old. Richie says hi, and Eddie’s mom stares.

“Eddie you know this, young man?” She grits out.

Richie’s eyes narrow before his face smoothes into a wide smile and he holds out a hand,

“Hello ma’am, yes Eddie tutors me in math. I’m not so good at it. I’m Richie Tozier.”

She stares at his hand until he retracts it,

“Oh, you’re Maggie’s son.”

His eyes narrow again and Eddie grabs his mom’s arm,

“Mom, let’s go.”

“I just knew-”

“Mom!”

She pulls her arm away,

“Eddie, I’m just saying,”

Richie’s body is pulled like a bow string and his face is daring her to say something.

“We’ve gotta go. Remember? New towels?”

“Fine.”

Eddie leads his mom away, as if if he lets go of her, she’ll go back and curse Richie to hell.

***

He doesn’t even think about the child again until he gets home when he texts Richie,

Eddie: You didn’t tell me you had another sister.  

The response takes longer than normal. Usually Richie texts him back within seconds.

Richie: …. I don’t.

Eddie hesitates. They’ve only been dating about two months, but it feels like a lifetime. For Eddie at least. Well not a lifetime, but Eddie is falling hard. He tries to picture the child, but he had been so worried about his mom talking to Richie that he wasn’t even paying attention. The thing was that he heard about Maggie Tozier all the way home, and he hadn’t wanted that sort of wrath released on Richie.

Eddie: She’s… yours?

He hesitates before sending the message, before he finally does, right after he chooses to dial Richie’s number instead. It goes straight to voicemail.

Eddie: Really?

Richie: Nothing to say champ. We’re done.

Eddie: What? Why? What did I do?

He calls again. It goes to voicemail.

***

He knows it’s lame to ride his bike but his boyfriend, well okay the person he’s been dating, isn’t answering and there’s a whole lot that needs to be discussed. Like nine months worth of a lot.

He doesn’t expect Richie to answer the door with baby food stains on his shirt and arms. He looks just as freaked out to see Eddie. He quickly steps out and shuts the door halfway,

“What?”

“What do you mean what? You’re not answering my calls?”

“I’m a little busy,” he says rudely.

Eddie hesitates, Richie is intimidating, he is. But usually he’s so nice and kind that Eddie kind of forgets that he can come off as cold.

“You are my boyfriend right?” Eddie asks quietly, rocking back and forth on his feet.

Richie’s face softens,

“Yeah. Of course.”

“Then let me in and let’s talk about this.”

Talk about how Richie has a kid. A whole human being. Richie hesitates.

“I’m in the middle of something Eddie.”

Eddie knows he’s being desperate and clingy, but Richie had said they were done and that wasn’t okay with him,

“I’ll wait.”

Richie shifts from foot to foot,

“I don’t introduce people to her.”

Eddie nods, ready to apologize, but then Richie opens the door. Eddie can sense his hesitation, and the baby is crying. Not actively, but little hiccups and Richie strides over to the kitchen and immediately starts feeding her what Eddie assumes are the baby food version of carrots. She’s adorable, even with mashed food in her face and hair. She has dark blonde hair, her ears pierced and Richie’s blue eyes. Richie must be able to feel Eddie’s stare and he blushes,

“Well sit down.”

Eddie sits. Tries to remember any pregnant girls in their grade. Then in their school. There was a freshman, three juniors and a couple senior girls.

“Who?”

“Do you remember Wendy Miller?”

Wendy Miller was a blonde Barbie doll who switched schools at the end of last year, finishing her senior year somewhere else. Eddie feels a sting of jealousy, wondering how he’s supposed to compete with that.

“She’s beautiful,” Eddie offers instead.

“Thank you. Her name is Anastasia.”

“Big name for such a little girl.”

Richie bops her nose,

“She’ll grow into it.”

“I’ve never seen her before.”

Richie shrugs,

“I don’t introduce people to my kid.”

“It’s been two months.”

“Keeping track are we?” he teases.

“Richie, this is serious.”

“That’s why I said we’re done. There’s no,” He hesitates as Anastasia bangs the spoon on the tray of the high chair, flinging carrot residue everywhere, “I’m sorry, I should have told you. I was being selfish. I just wanted this to last.”

“Who says it can’t last?”

“You’re seventeen.”

“You’re nineteen!” he argues back.

“And I had eight months to prepare. I signed up for this. Wendy and I signed up for this. You didn’t.”

Eddie hesitates because Richie isn’t wrong.

“Do you have her full time?”

“We have 50/50 custody.”

“How old is she?”

“She’ll be a year next month.”

“That’s exciting.”

“I know! I can’t believe it. My mom is like, wanting to go to Disney World and I’m like calm down there Mags.”

Eddie laughs,

“Aw, and your sister likes her?”

“More now than when she didn’t sleep through the night.”

“Can’t blame her there.”

He can’t imagine Richie with a baby any smaller than this. The thought is almost incomprehensible. This is Richie. Who smokes cigarettes and is at every one of Eddie’s meets and didn’t graduate the first time. And he’s in charge of a whole human. Eddie isn’t trying to be judgemental but he doesn’t get why people aren’t more careful. Richie must see the judgment on his face because the smile disappears.

“You don’t have to be here,” he says harshly.

“No, I want to, I do. It’s just a lot.”

Richie shakes his head,

“Maybe you should go.”

“No, Richie please, I’m sorry,”

Richie stands up, and unstraps Anastasia before pulling her out,

“I need to give her a bath anyway. I’ll try to call you later.”

***

He doesn’t call. He doesn’t call Sunday, and he’s not in school on Monday.

***

Eddie doesn’t eat dinner on Saturday or Sunday, and his mom fawns after him the entire day, she doesn’t even go to church. Monday drags by and he calls Richie again, and it goes to voicemail, again.

***

He doesn’t even know if it’s worth it to go to by his house, so he invites Bev over instead. They’re sitting on Eddie’s bed eating pizza and ice cream with music playing in the background. His mom is at her book club, so as long as he hides the receipt and they eat on his freshly stripped bed, they should be okay.

“Richie wasn’t at school,” she points out. Like it’s just a random observation.

“Yeah I don’t know what that’s about,” he shrugs.

“But you do know something. Eddie what’s up?”

He takes a deep breath.

“Richie has a daughter. Her name is Anastasia. She’s really cute actually,”

“What the hell? A kid? Eddie, that's a huge deal.”

“I know,” Eddie moans.

“A whole kid?”

“No half a kid,” he rolls his eyes, “I think I upset him.”

“Upset him?” She screeches, “it’s been months! Did he even tell you? Eddie, this isn’t okay.”

“I know, I know, but I think I love him.”

“Oh honey.”

They don’t really talk about it after that.

***

If he’d thought Bev reacted badly, then Bill’s was terrible. They go for burgers on Wednesday after school. Richie still hasn’t been in school or answered his phone.

He’s just getting ready to drown himself in his brownie sundae when his phone dings.

Richie: hey can u come over

Eddie pauses and it sings again.

Richie: plz

Eddie quickly types out a response and Bill is like “Be careful Ed.”

***

Richie looks like shit. He smells like beer. He looks wrecked and Eddie’s defenses are up.

“What’s wrong?”

“Stasia’s been sick. It was just a cold and then she got a fever and it spiked. We were in the hospital last night- she, she’s fine, sorry I should have led with that. But I haven’t slept and I’m so tired and my heart hurts,” he’s breathing heavy and Eddie walks him to the couch.

***

After Richie says Anastasia is safe at home with her mom, and he eats a piece of peanut butter toast and drinks a glass of juice, he reaches for Eddie. He can tell Richie wants to cuddle, but he doesn’t know where they stand and he hesitates. But then Richie stares at him with his big old eyes and asks him if he will nap with him.

“I’m just so tired, but I can’t sleep. It was so scary Eds.”

Eddie pats his back,

“I’m sure it was. But she’s okay, yeah? It’ll be alright.”

So they go lay down and Richie is under the blanket and Eddie is over the blanket and Eddie kisses Richie’s forehead and holds his hand as he falls asleep. Richie looks like an angel when he’s asleep. His hair is a mess, he has freckles on his nose and he hasn’t shaved in a few days. Eddie plays on his phone for a while until Richie curls himself around him. Then he shuts off his phone and lays down. They find themselves tangled up together when Maggie knocks on the door a few hours later.

***

Eddie quickly leaves and Richie promises to call him. Eddie actually has to talk to his mother when he gets home and they eat another hotdish and spend another night talking about nothing. He showers and lays down, prepared to turn on the tv. Richie calls and they talk about Maggie freaking out about him sleeping over, and how Anastasia is doing. Eddie convinces Richie to come to school the next day and hang out with him after school. Which results in Eddie skipping a track meet.

***

Bill flips out and goes off on Richie at lunch. Eddie has never missed a track meet. Ever. He was extremely dedicated and needed a scholarship to get away from his mom.

“All I know is that he’s never missed a track meet before you. And he hasn’t been hanging out with us as much. You just want him at your beck and call while you use him for a notch in your belt!”

They haven’t even done more than makeout so he’s shocked that Bill has jumped to that conclusion. Eddie blushes, feeling embarrassed that his friends are making him seem like a child.

“He’s not just a warm body to me!”

Bill’s mouth twists,

“Is that what you tell them all? Is that what you told Wendy?”

Richie is out of his seat in a second, Mike jumps up and grabs his arm and Eddie is scared he’s going to start swinging. Ben is strong enough to hold Bill back but the two boys struggle. Tears spring to Eddie’s eyes and he pushes himself up from the table. He’s blinded by tears and he doesn’t know where he’s going, he just knows he has to get away from the yelling and fighting and suddenly he can’t breathe and he pulls his inhaler out of his pocket and sinks down against a locker.

Surprisingly it’s Mike who sinks down next to him. He can’t stop crying. Everyone’s right about him, he is a little, sick baby. Mike doesn’t touch him, just sits close to him.

“It’s okay.”

“No it’s not, this is my fault!” he wails.

Mike shakes his head,

“No, Richie should have been upfront.”

“You knew?”

Mike looks at him confused,

“Yes. Richie has been my friend since we were in diapers. I’m Anastasia’s godfather.”

Eddie looks at him wide eyed,

“That’s a big responsibility.”

“Richie is like my brother.”

They sit quietly for a few minutes.

“He really likes you. I know he does.”

Eddie’s mouth twists to the side,

“If you say so.”

Mike looks up at him. He has such a serious face,

        “I do. And if you like him, at all, I think you should give him a chance.”

        “I know nothing about kids. I’m an only child and I have no cousins or anything.”

          “He’ll teach you. And it’s not like he’s gonna throw you in to step-daddy, or even make you watch her. He will respect your boundaries.”

        “We talking about the same Richie?”

Mike’s eyebrows raise, and that seems to be as much of a facial expression as he can muster.

       “Sorry, I’m joking.”

        “Does he not treat you well?”

Eddie starts shaking his head immediately,

          “Of course he does!”

Mike gives him an exactly look.

***

Bill and Bev apologize but Richie still won’t answer his calls. He supposes it’s his turn again to show up unannounced.

Richie looks wrecked, again. He assumes Anastasia is still sick, but Richie looks happy to see him, even if it’s just a little. Eddie pulls Richie in for a hug and he buries his face in his neck. It’s been too long.

“Surprised to see you here,” Richie says, running a hand over his face.

“One day you’re gonna stop being surprised. I want to date you, stop trying to get rid of me.”

“Even with Anastasia? Because it’s going to be really hard,”

“If I start quoting The Notebook right now, will you punch me?”

“Absolutely.”

“Well I want to try. More than try. Richie, I’m in love with you.”

He beams behind his glasses,

“I’m in love with you, Eddie spaghetti.”

“Oh god, is that a dad joke? It is, isn’t it?”

Richie just laughs harder and pulls Eddie against his chest in a hug, and Eddie tips his head up to kiss him softly.

[trashcanmarvelfan]

(Not-At-All) Dirty Little Secret

Summary: On National Coming Out Day, Richie gathers the Losers together for dinner before the first show in his new stand-up tour.

After the show, he & Eddie have a Conversation.

Warnings: Usual Richie trashmouthing.

Word Count: ~2200.

Author’s Note: How many different fix-its can I write that involve Reddie getting together? Idk, but I’m having a blast doing it. :D.

In honor of National Coming Out Day. To all my LGBTQ+ friends & readers, you are seen & heard. Don’t let anyone ever let you feel like you’re less than your worth.

CROSS-POSTED ON AO3

Richie Tozier checked his phone one last time as he finished rehearsing for his new stand-up show, pulling up the Losers group text thread and scrolling back to the beginning of the conversation about his show that night. Hey so, uh, my new tour is kicking off at the Laugh-Out-Loud Comedy Club in San Antonio on October 11th and I'd love for you all to be there. I'll be there all weekend if you guys want to come.

He had held his breath as the replies started rolling in from everyone but the one person he most wanted to hear from.

BEV: Ben and I will be there!

BEN: We wouldn't miss it for the world.

MIKE: Of course, man.

BILL: Absolutely.

Finally, after what seemed like forever (although it probably was really only 20 minutes) the last reply came.

EDDIE: I'll be there.

Richie had let out a huge sigh of relief and responded with, Thanks, guys. I'll tell my manager to arrange everything and get you all VIP tickets. Thinking we can do dinner before the show. 

BILL: Sounds great!

MIKE: I'm down.

BEV: Losers' Reunion Dinner! :) <3

EDDIE: No Chinese though. I still have an aversion to fortune cookies.

Richie had laughed before replying. I'm with Eddie on this one. I'll check for some recommendations.

They had ultimately decided on The Esquire, a tavern near the club that had come highly recommended by some of the locals from the club. 

Richie's manager had booked everyone at the same hotel that Richie was staying at for the weekend, at Richie's insistence. Since Richie had to rehearse, he had told the other Losers that he would just meet them for dinner and had arranged for a car to take them from the hotel to dinner and the club and back. He had arranged for his own transportation just in case what he had planned tonight didn't go well.

A new message came in. 

BILL: Richie, you said a CAR was picking us up from the hotel. This is too much.

Richie grinned. Technically, a limo is a car. Besides, I told you guys you were getting the VIP treatment.

EDDIE: What he means is thank you.

BILL: Richie knows what I mean.

EDDIE: We'll see you soon.

Richie's mouth went dry. He grabbed the bottle of water he had stashed by the microphone and took a long swig. Showtime.

He climbed into the Uber he had called and greeted his driver, then practiced the speech he had prepared in his head the entire ride over to the Esquire, his hand shaking nervously. Come on, Tozier. Get your shit together. You can battle a psychotic killer space-clown twice, you can do this.

Soon (too soon?) the car stopped in front of the Esquire.

Richie thanked his driver and headed inside, taking a deep breath as he headed to the private room he had reserved for their party.

"What's up, fuckers?" he said, entering the room.

"Richie!" a chorus greeted him.

Ben wrapped him in a hug first, followed by Bev, who also gave him a kiss on the cheek. Mike, then Bill shook his hand, then finally, Eddie. 

Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. Eddie was wearing jeans, a button-down shirt that was open at the collar, and a black leather jacket, and Richie honestly thought that Eddie had never looked hotter. He suddenly got nervous again. Fuck, I can't do this, he thought.  Actually, shit, I have to. It's not right to let them find out later with everyone else.

They sat and ordered drinks, with Richie making his a double. He had promised his manager that he wouldn't get drunk before the show, but he never said anything about a little liquid courage.

After their drinks were delivered and they had placed their orders, Bill had raised his glass. "I'd like to make a toast to the man of the hour -- Richie, who has brought us together -- but we're not fighting a multi-dimensional demon clown this time, are we?"

Richie looked around. "Well, no, I don't see Eds's mom anywhere, do you?"

"Hey, fuck you, bro," Eddie said, but with no heat to it.

Richie cleared his throat. No time like the present. "Actually, I do have something to talk to you guys about."

Five pairs of eyes watched him expectantly.

He fiddled with his glass. "I, uh… I'm, well…" He looked up to the ceiling as if it could give him the courage to say what he needed to say.

He felt a hand on his wrist, then glanced down to see Eddie's black leather-jacketed arm give him a gentle squeeze before retracting. Suddenly his own words came back to him: You're braver than you think.

He took a deep breath. "I'm gay."

Silence followed his statement until Beverly stood up, walked around the table, and wrapped him in a hug. "Thank you for being brave enough to tell us," she said, which prompted the others to also get up and give Richie a hug and their own words of affirmation.

Richie was probably imagining things, but it felt like Eddie lingered in his embrace a little longer than necessary. He didn't have time to dwell on the thought though because soon after, their food arrived.

Dinner went normally, with the only mention of Richie's sexuality being Ben asking politely if Richie was seeing anyone.

Richie shook his head. "No, no, not seeing anyone right now. Honestly there really haven't been too many guys I've been interested in lately." He had shot a quick glance over at Eddie, who was currently studying his gluten-free turkey burger like it was the most fascinating thing he had ever seen. Just one in particular.

After dinner, Richie joined the others in the limo on the way to the club. With six people in the car, it was a bit crowded, but Richie definitely didn't mind Eddie sitting close to him.

Once they had gotten to the club, Richie headed backstage while the Losers went to their seats.

Soon it was time for the show. Richie pumped himself up while he waited to be announced. You fucking did it, man. You came out to your friends and the world didn't end. You're not dirty, or wrong, or broken. You're still Richie.

He was surprisingly calm as he made his way onstage, knowing that he had the support and love of the people who mattered most to him.

"What the fuck is up, San Antonio?" he greeted the cheering audience. "How you guys doing tonight?"

He grabbed the mic off of the stand. "It's so fucking great to be kicking off my new tour here. So I was near my hotel earlier, and…"

Richie fed off of the energy of the crowd, getting more laughs with his all-original jokes than he had ever gotten with his old writer's stuff.

"So I had my sexual awakening at 13," he continued, grabbing ahold of the mic stand for support. "And I'm gonna preface this by reminding you guys that I grew up in the 80's. Any Gen-X'ers in the house?"

Hoots and whistles pierced the air.

"Awesome, Ok, so yeah, anyway, I had my sexual awakening at 13. I had this group of friends, and the summer I turned 13 we all went swimming at the quarry in my hometown, and this group of friends had this one particular girl - you know the type. I mean she was beautiful -- milky white skin, fiery red hair, she was just gorgeous." He sent Bev a cheeky wink before continuing. "So anyway, all us guys are staring at her while she was sunbathing and all of a sudden it hit me -- I had no attraction towards her what-so-ever."

He paused and let his words sink in before continuing. "Then I look over to another one of my friends and it was like a chorus of angels started singing. Beautiful, amazing girl -- nothing. Pale, skinny little white guy -- instant boner. You guys have no idea how hot a pair of long legs in some short-shorts and a fanny pack were to teenage me. They say if you jerk off too much you could go blind…" He exaggeratedly pushed his glasses further up oh his face. "Well, I guess that was pretty much the truth in my case." He paused as the crowd laughed.

"So yeah, in honor of National Coming Out Day, surprise, motherfuckers!"  Richie chuckled as the audience cheered. "Thank you so much for being so supportive and such a great crowd -- I'll see you next time!" He waved before making his way off stage.

"Richie, that was brilliant!" his manager said, handing him a napkin to wipe the sweat off his brow. "You killed it! Listen, I've already been fielding calls from Out Magazine and a couple of the late-night talk shows…"

Richie shook his head. "Can we talk about this tomorrow?" he said. "Tonight I just want to celebrate with my friends." 

"Sure, sure. I had them escorted back to the limo since you already did your meet & greet with the other VIPs."

"Thanks, man." Richie tossed the napkin in a nearby bin and made his way to the back of the club, where the limo was waiting for him.

He threw open the door and climbed in. "So what did you guys--" he cut himself off.

The limo was empty except for one person. Eddie looked up from where he was sitting. "Hey, Richie."

Richie looked around. "Where's everyone else?"

Eddie looked uncomfortable. "They, uh, they said they'd meet us back at the hotel and went ahead and got an Uber. Can we talk?"

Richie froze. Shit. "Um, yeah, sure Eds." He closed the door behind him and made his way over to the seat, leaving a good bit of space between him & Eddie. "What's up?"

Eddie bit his lip. "I didn't announce this during dinner because I didn't want to overshadow you coming out, but… I divorced Myra once I got back to New York."

Richie had been so distracted by Eddie in his black leather jacket, exuding just a *hint* of bad-boy appeal, that he had never really looked at Eddie's hands. Sure enough, Eddie's ring finger no longer bore the gold band that he had been sporting the last time Richie had seen him. "Holy shit, dude. I honestly wasn't sure if you had it in you."

Eddie smiled softly. "Well, a wise man once told me that I was braver than I thought, so as soon as I got home I packed the rest of my stuff and told Myra that I wanted a divorce.  I played it safe for so many years and was so warped by my mother that I pretty much wound up marrying her clone. Myra was just like her, even down to her buying my clothes."

Richie blushed and cast his eyes downward. "Um, yeah, I kind of noticed you looked different tonight. You uh, you look good."

Eddie shrugged and smiled shyly, then took Richie's hand. "Tonight, in your act, when you publicly came out… You said you had been attracted to one of your friends who wore short-shorts and a fanny pack. You were talking about me, weren't you?"

Richie squeezed his eyes shut. Fuck, fuck, fuck. "Um--"

"Rich? Please tell me that wasn't just part of your act." Eddie's voice sounded so hopeful that Richie's heart squeezed. He dragged his eyes back up to Eddie's. "No, not at all. Shit, Eds, you have no idea how much I lo--"

He was cut off by Eddie's lips on his own.

Hoooooooly fuck. Richie melted into the kiss, scooting closer and reaching up to gently caress Eddie's face. "Oh my God, Eds…" he muttered against Eddie's lips.

Eddie broke the kiss. "I know it's probably obvious by now, but I'm gay too," he replied. "And I'm in love with you. I've been in love with you for over 28 years now. Ever since we were kids."

"Fucking Christ, I love you too," Richie said breathlessly, pulling Eddie back to him for another kiss. He licked his way into Eddie's mouth, savoring the taste of mint (wait, did Eddie actually fucking brush his teeth while he was waiting on me? he briefly wondered) and Eddie.

Once breathing became a necessity, they broke apart and Richie leaned his forehead against Eddie's. "Jesus, this is like the beginning of every single one of my childhood fantasies come true," he panted, his hands still on Eddie's face.

Eddie wrapped his fingers around Richie's hands. "Mine too." He turned and placed a kiss against Richie's palm where his oath scar used to be, a kiss so tender that it made Richie want to cry. 

Suddenly the limo stopped and the driver's voice came over the speaker. "Mr. Tozier, we've arrived back at your hotel."

"Uh, thanks," Richie replied, before turning to Eddie. "So what do we do now?"

Eddie smirked. "Well, first we need to go have another coming-out with our friends in the hotel bar, then after that I'm dragging you upstairs, where we're going to fulfill the rest of our childhood fantasies."

And they did. Repeatedly.

[andersssandrew]

Losers club headcanons

The smoothest motherfucker ?

Probably Bev

The most awkward to a date ?

Hmmmmm Mike. Like he's hot and all but clumsy, blunt and obsessed so when he tries to be a normal person he just looks like an alien

The best in bed ?

Ben. Very dedicated lover

The best with kids ?

If you mean the one kids love, Richie. But don't give him your kid to babysit. Bill is good with kid but don't want any.

The best smell ?

Fucking Eddie Kaspbrak. Fresh like a fucking forest.

The worst writing ?

Richie Tozier and nobody is surprised

The most cultivated ?

Stanley Uris, motherfucker. This guy loves to know everything.

The best singer ?

Bill

The most muscled ?

If course it's Micycle (I want to ride my Micycle I want to ride my Mike♫)

The best liar ?

Bill

Who has the best grades in middle school ?

FUCKING RICHIE TOZIER WHAT THE FUCK

And the best cook ?

Eddie is the best to follow the recipe. But Ben is good to put ingredients together and make it awesome

The ugliest underwear ?

Bill because Audra buys him ugly ones. It's a private joke between them.

The first who got his ear pierced ?

Bev. But Richie second.

Stan tried when he was in college, in a little rebellious phase, but it triggered a big panic attack, he didn't understand why. Maybe it was related to the weird scars he has on the forehead..he didn't remember.

The angry drunk ?

Eddie

The lusty drunk ?

Richie

The sleepy drunk ?

Bill

The sad drunk ?

Mike

The happy drunk ?

Ben

The one who doesn't drink alcohol ?

Stan the Man

The never drunk ?

Bev

[stenbrozier]

Modern Losers’ Club Headcanons

Plot: Individual headcanons of the modern Loser’ about different things they’d do and love (mostly during high school)

Warnings: slight Reddie, shit ton of Stenburough, drug use + mentions of sex + swearing

——————————————————————————

Bill Denbrough:

~ He’s the artist, everyone knew that.

~Typical art kid who won all the awards and participated in every art class his school offered.

~ He just didn’t take choir or band because we know this boy has no musical abilities at all.

~ Bill would save up all his allowance and holiday money so that he could buy that really good drawing app that he could use on his IPad.

~ After he got it, there was no way to get him to look up at you for more than ten seconds. He would fall in love with digital art.

~ Remember he took all of the art classes? Well, creative writing and poetry we’re considered arts at Derry High School, so that’s where he fell in love with writing.

~ Suprisingly, he would be really into heavy metal. Bands like Bring Me the Horizon and Of Mice and Men would blare in his headphones while he drew in his room late at night.

~ Bill would also really love watching indie movies on Netflix and other platforms. He’s lowkey a movie buff, but he doesn’t tell people too much.

~ His favorite movie from the past decade would probably be Moonrise Kingdom (good movie!!) or The Skeleton Twins (also good movie!!)

~ Bill’s favorite book would 10000% be Turtles All The Way Down by John Green because of the main character and her battle with anxiety.

——————————————————————————

Mike Hanlon:

~ He runs a cooking YouTube channel, you can’t fight me on this one.

~ Mike would definitely have one of those motorized scooters, idk seems like a Mike thing

~ He’s in love with video games but only the ones that are based on a lot of skill. He doesn’t like first person shooters, nor does he like any games with violence at all. Tbh, Papa’s Pizzeria is right up his alley.

~ Mike would be a gym try hard, most definitely. But in every other class he’d just sit on his phone.

~ But he’s so smart that he’d pass all the tests anyway.

~ He’d work a lot just so he could afford the newest phone because he thinks it gives people less of a reason to pick on him and bully him. (News flash: it doesn’t)

~ Whenever Mike isn’t working, he volunteers at the animal shelter in Derry. He runs the Instagram account :)

~ Probably one of the guys who posts shirtless pics on Instagram because he likes the attention the girls give him in the comments.

~ Will answer any of Bill’s texts at 3am when he wants feedback on a new piece of art.

~ A secret theatre kid, no doubt. Not really a musical kid, but he loves acting and just being on stage with everyone’s attention on him.

——————————————————————————

Richie Tozier:

~ Speaking of theatre kids, Richie is the BIGGEST fucking one. He has been in every musical and play that his school has done since 6th grade, and he was one of the best kids they had.

~ He wears Pierce the Veil and Sleeping with Sirens shirts, but Richie mostly listens to softer bands like Arctic Monkeys and The Neighbourhood.

~ He has a bi pride pin on his backpack. Kids will sometimes pull it off and throw it around, but he just pulls another one out of a ziploc bag full of them in the tiny front pouch of his bag and sticks it on there.

~ Richie unapologetically owns a Juul and will sometimes let Bev borrow it as long as she pays him “25 cents a hit”, which she never does.

~ Posts music on SoundCloud. He’s not much of a singer outside of the musicals because he’s mostly shy with his talent; however, he does a lot of instrumentals.

~ Richie shops are thrift stores most of the time. He’ll take Eddie with him and though Eddie won’t touch anything until it’s been washed twice, Richie will buy him anything he likes.

~ He LOVES Harry Potter. He found the first book when he was younger and he just fell in love with the story. He owns all the first editions and all of the movies.

~ Goes to small venues to see bands that no one knows. Richie will go to so many concerts because he likes the escape it brings for him. He’s in his element when he goes to concerts.

~ Despite what many people think, he isn’t a whore :0 He just flirts a lot and he actually didn’t lose his virginity till he was 17 at a party. He regrets it, though, cause he was drunk off his ass.

~ He was also in the color guard for his high school’s marching band. A lot of the girls from the theatre stuff begged him to be apart of it because he could dance really well, and he ended up being in it for both the indoor and outdoor seasons all throughout high school.

——————————————————————————

Eddie Kaspbrak:

~ BOOKWORM, BOOKWORM, B O O K W O R M!!! This boy would spend every second he could just browsing the books that his school library had.

~ After he yelled at his mom for his pills, he started to kind of overcome his germaphobe tendencies, but he still was very iffy about touching things in places he’d never been.

~ For example, Richie took him to the park one time and he had never been there before, so the whole time he was holding his noses and steering clear of the snot nosed little kids.

~ Him and Richie definitely dated at some point or another. Whether to get a feel for guys or just for each other, but it did happen. Beverly was the only one who ever knew.

~ Eddie fell in love with engineering at school. He would always call one of the Losers at an ungodly hour in the morning and rant about how all of the buildings in town were built and with what materials. Honestly, Ben was the only one who shared this interest with him.

~ Eddie was the first to get his own car so all of the Losers would pile into his Jeep. Richie always tried to convince him to take off the doors, but Eddie thought that that was the biggest goddamn safety hazard he’d ever heard.

~ As they all got older, obviously him and Richie stayed close, but he also got surprisingly close with Ben and Ben would gush about Beverly to him after Eddie would excitedly explain how a car’s engine works or something like that.

~ Eddie was the one to convince Beverly to go after Ben and stop pining over Bill.

~ Eddie went to concerts with Richie all the time, and even if the sweaty roadies grossed him out, he fell in love with the bass killing his eardrums and the way the mic static could transform someone’s voice.

~ He also joined his school’s marching band (mainly cause Richie begged him) and was fucking AMAZING at playing snare drums.

——————————————————————————

Stanley Uris:

~ He was the last one to enter high school, everyone a year ahead of him, but he was ironically the most popular among the lower class men.

~ Stan was a very private person, but his willingness to do other’s homework for $5 a page made him infamous.

~ Because of all this money he’d been making, he’d buy the Losers presents all the time. He would treat them to their favorite snacks whenever they went to Keene’s or to a new shirt whenever they went to the mall over in Bangor. And he never went over budget because he’s a goddamn accountant by nature.

~ He had a massive crush on Bill and asked him to homecoming his freshman year. Yeah, they were bullied, but Stan couldn’t have been more happier.

~ Bill convinced him to tryout for the baseball team. He tried out for pitcher and got it immediately. He was also one of the sports kids who would post on his Snapchat whenever they had a game.

~ Him and Bill ended up dating up until junior year, when Bill admitted that he wanted to date at least one girl before college and Stan wasn’t mad because he honestly wasn’t feeling it anymore. Afterwards, they both started dating cheerleaders.

~ Stan was in Calculus his sophomore year of high school, which was the class that all of the AP seniors took. Many people called him a genius, he just thanked the internet.

~ Stan fell in love with indie bands like R.O.A.R and Florence + The Machines. Richie did, however, convince him to go to concerts with him and Eds. He might’ve not enjoyed the music, but he still loved being with his best friends since diapers.

~ He didn’t like movies too much but would watch them with Bill. He enjoyed TV shows a lot more. He’s definitely a true crime baby.

~ Stan also fell in love with photography because he was forced to take the class. He begged his parents to buy him a camera for his birthday, and his many cork boards were filled with pictures of his friends and birds.

——————————————————————————

Ben Hanscom:

~ Was a track start in high school. He ran off all of his fat and just fell in love with the high of running (tbh this is my favorite part about Ben’s character. like such a determined boy 🥺)

~ Ben enjoyed sitting at the library with Eddie and just watching him peruse books, usually pointing a few that he had read and liked. He also just loved the fact that him and Eddie were able to get so close as they got older.

~ Ben was in all the engineering courses his school offered. He was just so happy that he could take classes that pertained to the career path he wanted to go down.

~ He was able to finally get Beverly their senior year. He had been in love with her for the longest time, and she asked him to homecoming.

~ Ben also considered trying out for the football team, but it conflicted with the winter track season so he wasn’t able to; however, him, Mike, and Bill would always play their own small games in the field by Mike’s house.

~ While Stan helped everything with their math homework, Ben helped everyone with their history homework. He was a big history nerd, and everyone knew he paid attention the most.

~ He lost a bet one time and Richie was able to give him a stick and poke tattoo anywhere of his choosing. So now on the inside of his left ring finger he has R.T. written messily.

~ Ben loves pop music. He had always liked it, and some of his favorite artists were Katy Perry and Sia.

~ He rode his bike to school everyday. He was a very big proponent for the environment and hated the idea of driving, so he’d pass up the rides from Eddie or Richie and just bike with his headphones in.

~ Ben was apart of the school’s Green Team and protested climate change and the use of fossil fuels. When he had free time, he’d study ways that he could benefit the environment when he became an architect.

——————————————————————————

Beverly Marsh:

~ She was an English wiz. It was her favorite subject, and she fell in love with analyzing poetry and other forms of literary work.

~ Beverly started to let her hair grow out again and she was relieved to see that it started to grow out straight. She hated her curly hair.

~ She bleached her hair a few times throughout high school; she hated the red because it reminded her too much of her mother.

~ Her and Richie’s friendship fell off big time, but she got super close with Bill, Ben, and Mike. Her crush in Bill didn’t deplete for a while, even after him and Stan started dating. She still had hope.

~ Eddie told her about Ben and it really changed her whole perspective on everything. But that wasn’t until junior year.

~ Though she didn’t have too good of a singing voice, she loved being in choir. The angelic reverberations throughout the auditorium whenever they performed always gave her chills and she wanted so desperately to be a part of it.

~ Beverly wrote a lot of poetry. She wrote some to her friends, to her dead mom, to her asshole dad. Just to whoever she was focused on in that moment.

~ She helped Mike after school at the animal shelter and actually ended up adopting a kitten for herself.

~ Luckily, her dad didn’t mind the cat too much as long as Bev took care of it and didn’t bother him for a single thing.

~ Beverly didn’t get her license until she was well into her twenties, but she loved hanging her arm out of the passenger’s side window of Richie’s car and listen to the bands that he’d blast with closed eyes.

[hiyo-silver]

"What's Up You Guys It's Me, Bdenbrough!" - NEW FRIEND VS OLD FRIEND - WHO KNOWS ME BETTER?

Summary: Bill has Eddie and Beverly on his channel to challenge them to see who knows him better.

Chapter 1 2 3 + ao3

Taglist: @hazelash @fuckboykaspbrak @thesquidliesthuman @rachi0964 @beepbeep-losers @bigbilliamdenbro @jalenrose1122 @sleepygaybrough @itandstrangerthingsfanfic @boopboopbichie @peachywyatt @aizeninlefox @sockwantstodie @ahoybyeler @yooonbum @coffeekaspbrak

Bill decides to get on an uploading schedule. He wants to post every other week on a sunday, giving him Saturday to film and edit. He makes a habit of it, the hardest part is coming up with ideas for his videos, so often they end up being viral challenges that have long past, or tags he hasn’t even gotten tagged in, like his first video.

His titles give him a few more subscibers, “SLIME MAKING”, “THE ICE BUCKET CHALLENGE - HYPOTHERMIA?”. He learns to become the king of clickbait. He rises up to 100 or so subscibers in a couple months. It makes him feel on top of the world, like the coolest kid in Derry.

Summer comes and he decides it’s finally a good enough time to introduce his newer friends in a vlog or in another type of video. His audience has met Richie, Eddie, and Stan, but not Beverly or Mike or Ben. He especially wants to introduce Bev, he thinks she’s really pretty, and maybe she’ll be impressed by his whopping 257 followers. Maybe she’d even go to get milkshakes with him, or even get a bag of candy to share.

So he sets out on how to execute his next idea, “Best Friend vs New Friend: Who Knows Me Best?” He enlists Eddie for this one, he knows Richie may be too animated for even YouTube in his fresh out of school haze. Plus it’s good to get Eddie out of the house whenever he can, Sonia is something else.

He pulls the bean bags out of the closet so he can sit on his desk chair between them. He’s excited for this one, he can basically call it a collab, even though Eddie and Bev aren’t necessarily other content creators. He could pretend they are though, even linking their instagrams in the description box. Call them influencers, basically anyone can be one of those these days.

He looks down at his arms, covered in blue and black pen, doodles all down his forearms. He gets bored when he’s planning questions for these, more often than not turning to Google for a lot of them. His left arm is laced with planets and stars, even an attempt at recreating the milky way on his wrist near the root of his hand. He decides not to wash it off, it only adds to his charm.

He awaits the knock on the door, Beverly had said that they would meet up and walk together to his place. His parents work on weekdays and today is a Friday, so it’s perfect for him. He loves the summer, his parents aren’t always around when he’s home, it gives him room to enjoy himself.

He finally does hear the knock of the two of them while he’s propping his tablet up on some books on his desk as a tripod, he had hoped to get one for his birthday but his parents obviously wouldn’t, and they’re a little too expensive for his friend’s style.

He bolts down the stairs with his socked feet, slipping slightly on the corner, almost stubbing his toe on the wood baseboard. He has a bad habit of rushing himself to put out videos, he’s a workaholic on a self inflicted job at the age of twelve.

He’s going to be starting seventh grade next year, he hopes the work that comes of that doesn’t put a damper on his creativity for his channel. His channel is about all that brings him joy when his friends aren’t around. A self sufficient antidepressant. It’s even better when he gets to bring them in for videos.

He opens the door out of breath, pushing his hair back behind his shoulders. It’s getting long, he’ll have to ask for a trim soon. He smiles at them as he takes in gasps of air to control himself better. “Ready to f-f-film?” he asks, still leaning against the doorframe.

“Damn, you’re wheezier than Eddie,” Bev smirks, chuckling as she steps into the threshold of the house, patting him on the back firmly enough to get him to choke. He gives her a smile, his face as red as his hair, as well as hers. They’re the two red head chicks at school, they stick together. Though Bill has always been more shy, Beverly is better at being abrasive in response to the teasing.

“Hey! I r-r-r-ran to let y-you guys in,” He defends, moving out of the way to let Eddie come in as well. “It’s all s-set up upstairs, I have a-all the questions and the props all r-ready,” he says with pride on his face as the shorter boy comes in through the door, wiping off his feet and closing the heavy wood door behind him.

“Sounds good, you’re on, Bev,” Eddie says with his own devilish grin, he plans on winning, he can do it all with his memory. He probably knows everything about Bill there is to know, they’ve been chumming since kindergarten, the age of five all the way to them being twelve now.

They all stomp up the stairs, allowed to be as loud as they want with the lack of parents in the house, the premises all to the kids. Bill plops down on his chair, spinning in a circle happily. Bev and Eddie sit hard in the bean bags, on his left and right sides respectively.

Bill leans forward to start the recording, sitting back in his seat, putting on the usual energy. “What up you g-guys! It’s m-me, Bdenbrough back here with y-your Saturday entert-t-tainment!” he announces with a bright smile. “Here I h-have for you, Beverly and Eddie, the b-best friend vs n-new friend challenge,” He says with a slight smirk, feeling as if he’s got tricks up his sleeve.

Beverly smiles and waves with the tips of her fingers, the gap between her teeth showing through her parted lips, covered in her favorite cherry lip gloss. “I’m Bev,” she introduces, “Basically this one’s twin,” she says, pointing up at Bill in his seat, crossing one of her legs over the other.

Eddie adopts a slightly less nervous expression as the filming actually starts, “I’m Eddie, call me any funky nicknames and I’ll castrate you,” he states, giving the camera a smile that’s almost eerie after what he just said.

“Well! L-let’s get started with the questions I’ve pr-prepared,” Bill says, pulling out his organized filming journal, scanning his eyes over the page of questions, they aren’t too hard, but hopefully just enough so he can claim a true winner to this channel. Or else his clickbait would be even worse.

“First, w-what’s m-my favorite color?” he asks, crossing his own leg over the other, a smug look on his face despite the easiness of the question. He’s saving the big guns for later, giving him the false sense of security.

“Blue!” Bev jumps in before Eddie can. Blue is Bill’s favorite more recently, Eddie was about to say either lime green or purple, those are the colors he’d planned to paint his room a couple months back. He also wanted some wolf posters, but what his mom provided were some ones with bunnies on them. She doesn’t want her daughter to get too rough or aggressive. Bunnies are the perfect role model.

A few more easy questions come, about animals and about what his favorite subject at school was this year, up until he brings up one of the most complicated questions of the game. “W-what am I most scared o-of starting Middle School n-next year?” he asks, a quizzical look even on his own face.

“Uhm…” Eddie starts, cradling his chin in his hand in focus, his eyes nearly piercing the camera with their sharpness. “Having a reputation that’s not what you are?” He guesses, and Bill’s expression softens.

“I’ll take that a-answer. That’s nine for Eddie and e-eight for Beverly,” he says, striking his pen across the page for another talley on Eddie’s side. “That w-was the final question! The rumors are true, b-best friend since kinderg-garten wins!” he smiles, patting Eddie on the shoulder as he smiles.

It is true. He doesn’t want a reputation. He doesn’t want to be seen as girly, he thinks he might like girls which makes him feel weird inside. It makes him shiver with even more fear and excitement when he thinks of Bev. He likes her, but he can’t be gay, he’d be the first one to be outed if he ever uttered a single word about it to anyone.

[d0gdaze]

6.

The body swap au a surprising amount of people asked for, actually.

Read on AO3 / Summary

Pairings: Eddie Kaspbrak / Richie Tozier

Warnings: swearing, sexual references

Chapter 6/?

Prev | Next 

Word Count: 4494

Eddie’s playlist

Seven uninspired oral presentations and a valiant attempt to set Richie on fire with his mind later – one day he would actually accept the fact he wasn't telekinetic, he swore he would – the bell rang and class was dismissed, and Eddie followed the outpour of students into the hallway. He scanned the sea of people, locating the maroon-clad boy fairly easily with his newfound height advantage. He strode over, completely ignoring and bypassing Beverly's questioning stare, and pulled Richie aside rather aggressively, so he had him pretty much trapped between himself and the wall of lockers.

“What the hell, Dick,” he spat through his teeth, attempting to keep his voice low to avoid capturing attention. (Sidenote, it didn't work, Eddie was just a habitually loud person, but considering what the rest of the school had witnessed in the cafeteria the day before, no one really gave the couple as much as a second glance. Most of them assumed it was probably just Trashmouth Tozier spitting some empty threats at the Kaspbrak kid, and nothing more. Which, sidenote, wasn't that far from the truth. All in all, time was sparse, classes needed attending, and no one really cared enough to watch a second fight in two days between the same two weirdos. Eddie could have probably been screeching at the top of his lungs and no one would bat an eyelid. Such is highschool. Anyway, back to your regularly scheduled programming.) “AC/DC? Are you serious?”

“What, not your taste?” Richie smirked, thoroughly amused with himself. “Should I have gone with someone in the Weather Girls instead?”

“Why didn't you just give the presentation you wrote for yourself?” Eddie's face, like his voice, was an interesting mix of anger, desperation, and terribly faux collectiveness. Richie thought his eyebrows might get permanently stuck with how hard he was creasing them.

“Mine wasn't supposed to be until next week,” Richie said, matter-of-factly, “I wasn't even gonna start thinking about it until at least next Tuesday.”

Eddie nearly blanched, as if hearing that should have been even slightly shocking.

“Richie, I swear to god if I fail that class because of you I'm gonna-,” he brought his hand up and back, and Richie flinched, bracing himself for the incoming slap. Eddie exhaled shakily and dropped his arm back to his side, then closed his eyes, letting out a defeated sigh. “What do you have now?”

“Art, you?”

“P.E.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah.”

Eddie dragged his hands down his face in exasperation, then sighed again, as if to make some sort of point that Richie was pretty sure had already been made.

“Okay, this is fine,” he said, though judging by the complete lack of composure on his face, he was lying. “We're fine,” he repeated, “just-, try to get through today without ruining my entire life, think you can manage that?”

“Depends,” Richie crossed his arms over his chest defensively, “can you?”

Eddie sighed for a third time. Richie, quite frankly, was getting a little tired of Eddie's overdramatic ass.

“Just-” he tried to come up with a comeback, then decided against it. Because they were late enough to class as it was, of course, and not because he couldn't think of one. “Let's go to class.”

Richie nodded, though somewhat reluctant to agree and very much content to not go to class at all.

Eddie turned heel and left before the confrontative side of his brain could win him over.

Bill often dragged Ben and Eddie along to the art studios when their free periods overlapped or sometimes during lunch breaks if they decided they'd rather not brave the cafeteria. Bill would continue whatever new passion project he was working on, Ben would listen to music and read or study, and Eddie would consider doing homework and then do anything else, usually involving rambling on about whatever while Bill politely pretended to listen. It was decidedly one of the nicer aspects of the school, with big windows covering one wall and an abundance of posters and prints of famous paintings covering the others, student projects cluttering up shelves and racks and easels, coloured acrylic splattered on every surface, air filled with the mingling musty scents of clay and paint and something vaguely septic. And for someone with no sort of artistic talent whatsoever, Eddie had a quiet appreciation for it. It didn't feel like a classroom. If anything, the organised chaos and laid-back atmosphere gave it a very homely feel. He could understand why Bill was so content spending most of his free time there.

People were still milling around when he got there, settling onto paint stained wooden stools situated around three long tables. In the middle of each sat a woven basket overflowing with assorted fruit, spilling out onto an artfully crumpled stretch of sheen fabric. He made his best effort to look casual as he waited for most seats to be filled before he sat down, letting process of elimination aid him in figuring out which seat was Richie's regular one. He eventually pulled up a stool in between two occupied ones, one by a rather eccentric looking lass with several piercings that he could see (and undoubtedly plenty he couldn't), haphazardly applied makeup, and a hairstyle that surely had to be against school policy, the other a boy wearing a beanie that was pulled down nearly over his eyes and a black t-shirt with a band logo on it that Eddie had never heard of but already hated. He shuffled slightly in his seat, subconsciously folding in on himself. Sure, first impressions aren't always right, and he knew they were probably pleasantly decent and decently pleasant people, but that didn't mean he had to brush elbows with them. Thankfully, neither of them seemed to take much notice of him anyway.

He shrugged his backpack off his shoulders and brought it around to sit on his lap, and opened it up. There really wasn't much in it, a few loose scraps of paper, homework handouts and the like, a few more that were crumpled up into balls, a pen or two floating around,  a couple of cheap lighters, a small brown paper bag that he was not going to investigate, a notebook – which he had discovered in History class contained the written work for all of Richie's classes with no obvious attempt at categorisation whatsoever – and a spiral bound sketchbook. He pulled the last item out, sitting it on the table in front of him and letting the bag slide to the floor by his feet. He flipped the book open.

Name: Seymour Butz.

Class: Easy Credit.

Eddie restrained himself from rolling his eyes and turned the page, wary yet intrigued about what the rest of the book looked like.

It turned out to be a mixed bag of crude stick-figure comic strips – most unfinished or completely nonsensical –, a handful of pages just scribbled on until there was no white space left, a number of tic-tac-toe games that he seemingly played with himself, and, very occasionally, actual classwork.

And dicks.

A lot of dicks.

An abundance, one might say.

Like, on almost every page.

And not in the tasteful nudity figure study way either. While there were a few more detailed spectacles, most were more on the cartoonish, bathroom stall graffiti side, you know the ones. In all colours, shapes, sizes, and artistic mediums.

Eddie was disappointed, but really not surprised, and a little flustered thanks to one particularly intricately shaded double spreader.

He quickly flipped through until he found a blank, phallic-less page, just as the teacher – he didn't know her name – brought the class's attention to the board and informed them they were doing still lifes – a term Eddie had never heard before and was honestly a bit confused by, fruit is not alive – in any medium they feel like, and then left them to their own devices. A bit of quiet chatter picked up, but nothing irritating. He grabbed a graphite pencil off the table, stared down the centrepiece, and got started.

Richie got to the gym in a record breaking time of sixteen minutes, the main contributor to his tardiness being that he previously had no idea where it was. Four years of avoiding any sort of sport, career fair, or school assembly left him with a pretty limited mental map of the school. He had his daily route that took him to his necessary classes, the cafeteria, and his regular smoking spot under the bleachers. And he had never found any sort of issue with that. Until now.

He dumped his backpack onto one of the benches in the boys locker room, and immediately wondered why Eddie would ever go in there. Everything smelt like perspiration and dirty socks and boy. Everything looked dewy and unclean. Every flat surface had been graffitied and vandalised – his eyes drifted to a tag he recognised as one Bev used to use, and he was definitely going to ask her about that later. There was a bandaid stuck to the floor by his feet. It was gross – and if Eddie could get worked up to the point of a public standoff because a stain on his shirt, surely he would never willingly step foot in a locker room.

Richie, however, was right at home.

He zipped the backpack open and shuffled a few books around before pulling out a plastic bag with, assumedly, Eddie's school uniform in it. After a second of consideration, he ripped the plastic to get it open rather than untying the knot, and grabbed the clothes before letting the empty bag fall discarded to the floor. He quickly shucked the shirt he was wearing and pulled the new one on. Just as he began to work on undoing his jeans, his eyes fell to the shorts. And he remembered.

Oh fuck no.

He lifted the bright red monstrosity, pinching the elastic waistband with both hands so they were on full display, and damn near scowled. Somehow they were more hideous up close. And so much shorter than he recalled, if that was even possible. His expression then could only be described as pure desperation. He should have just packed up and went home.

But he couldn't even do that, he thought, it's not his home anymore.

He sighed in defeat. Whatever scrap of dignity he still had left buried deep inside him was shrivelling up and dying.

He put the shorts on.

To add to his complete and utter dismay, Physical Education class apparently involved a lot physical activity. He was welcomed into the gymnasium by a chorus of shoes squeaking on vinyl flooring, with the occasional whistle blow accompanied by a booming voice shouting orders like “knees up! No slacking! Quit being a bunch of pussies! I have a power complex to compensate for my tiny dick!”

Well, maybe not those words exactly.

They were doing laps. Running. Richie would rather gnaw through his own ankles.

No one really seemed to take much notice of him skulking around near the entrance – that or they didn't care –, and he was about to make like a tree and get the hell out of there when -

“Dude, coach was totally bugging out, where were you?”

He turned around to see one of Eddie's nerd friends – the one without the stutter, though that's about the extent of the information he had – who was panting lightly and looking at him like he had just committed a crime – which he was sure he hadn't, unless wearing gym shorts two sizes too small counts as criminal, which it should, in Richie's opinion –, the tone of his voice indicating that he must have actually been walking around the school lost for three and a half years and not just sixteen minutes. Richie blinked at him.

“Everything okay?” Nerd Friend asked, starting to look worried.

Richie wanted to scream. No!, he would say, nothing is okay! I've got a curse on me! I got kicked out of my own body! I would barely be five foot five in stilettos! I can't reach the top of my locker! My worst enemy is walking around looking like me and dressed like a mormon! And he stole my ride to school! I'm pretty sure everyone can see my entire ass in these shorts! The weather is terrible! And now I'm getting chastised for showing up slightly late to a class I don't even want to be at! Nothing makes sense and nothing is okay!!!

“Yeah,” he said, “sure.”

A harsh whistle blow interrupted the start of Nerd Friend's next question, and they both turned their heads to look towards the coach, who was glaring at them and looked to be a couple of seconds away from marching over and dragging them back by their ears.

“Come on,” he said, and jogged back over, falling into a gap before working up to matching the rest of the class's pace. Richie took a deep breath and followed.

Eddie left class with a barely half finished and poorly executed fruit portrait – he had spent so long trying (and failing) to get the shading on one particular grape and ended up wasting a good portion of the hour. So he wasn't the best at time management, big deal – and a grey lead smudge on the side of his right hand hand that wasn't coming off and was really just getting worse with how much he was rubbing at it.

He had about a five minute timeframe to find Richie and swap schedules, because he was apparently too busy being annoyed to remember to do it earlier, so he walked with purpose, which turned out to be difficult when your legs have been replaced with knobbly stilts and you're approximately three feet taller than any human should be.

He was passing the language department when someone was suddenly linking their arm with his and pulling him off his course.

“Where're you off to in such a rush, buttercup?” Beverly M- something crooned, flashing him an easy smile that he didn't understand the meaning behind. She easily navigated them through the crowded hallway, headed towards the heavy doors leading out to the field.

“Uh,” he responded, sidestepping quickly to avoid colliding with someone's elbow as they widely swung their backpack on. Beverly's steps did not falter for a moment. “Class?” He continued, wondering why that was not the obvious answer. She responded with a laugh, unashamed, bright, and boisterous.

“Wow, first the new wardrobe and now you're skipping out on skipping? Who are you and what have you done with Richie Tozier?”

You have no idea, he thought. She punctuated her sentence with a grin and tightened her grip on his arm, walking through the doors and down the small flight of stairs just as the bell rang.

She led him out along the abandoned path around the skirts of the field until they reached the bleachers, standing proudly in all their rickety glory. Eddie didn't trust the bleachers; the support beams looked too frail and a few sections were in dire need of repair. Luckily, he never really had any need to use them, having no interest in attending football or baseball games, or rallies unless they had something to with his track, in which case he was on the field anyway.

He especially didn't feel like sitting underneath the bleachers, where, besides the risk of the whole thing collapsing on top of them, it was also dirty, and smelled like something that Eddie was pretty confident wasn't a legal substance, and there were so many cigarette butts littering the ground and so much chewing gum stuck to the underside of the seats that they may as well have been sitting inside a dumpster. Beverly did not seem to share the same concerns as he did, though, as she proceeded en route to the second stand over, and then proceeded to sit. On the grass. Wearing a skirt!

She reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out a red and white carton and a plastic lighter decorated in variously coloured star-shaped stickers. She flicked a cigarette out of the case and put the end of it between her lips before lighting it.

She seemed to lose herself for a moment then, closing her eyes when she inhaled. Eddie watched, mildly curious, as she took it between her fingers and held her breath for what felt like a few seconds too long before breathing out, the greyish smoke filtering through slightly parted lips and then dissipating in the air between them. She smiled, barely, a slight tug at the corner of her mouth.  

“Are you waiting for an invitation or something?” she said, blinking one eye open and disrupting his thoughts.

“Huh?”

She patted the ground beside her, and managed to make it look sarcastic. He realised he was either going to have to sit down and be filthy and uncomfortable and risk lung cancer, or look like an insane person and hightail it out of there.

He sat down.

“So,” she started, after taking another drag. It smelt awful. He did his best to hide his disgust. He was only really successful in that because she wasn't facing him. “What's the 411 babe?”

Before he could even start to form a coherent sentence, she was offering him the open carton, holding it up in front of his face. He swallowed, leaning away from the box as if it might start spitting acid. (And it might have! For all he knew it could detect his fear!) He tried to think of a plan of action, but any option that immediately came to mind didn't really feel like it would be subtle enough. Smack the box out of her hand and stomp it into the ground, grab it and throw it as far away as he could and then bolt when she went to retrieve it, just start screaming bloody murder at the top of his lungs, tell the principal, call the police, call his mom, call child protective services, etcetera.

(He did not, at any point in this state of internal panic, think to politely refuse.)

“Rich?”

“YOU'RE GONNA DIE.”

Beverly, for some reason, looked rather affronted by the … warning? Threat? Prophecy? Nihilistic realisation? Whatever it was, though Eddie was just about as shocked, possibly even more so.

“Uh,” she started after an extended pause, when the echo produced by his sudden outburst faded out, “okay?”

“Cigarettes,” he said, the part of his brain that was definitely not the logical one deciding to take the reigns and push him further into his hole, “they're really bad for you, and smoking is the leading cause of cancer, and your lungs are gonna go black and all your teeth will fall out and you'll get mouth ulcers and burn holes in your throat and then you won't be able to eat and you'll have to put a tube in your stomach and it'll be horrible and painful and slow and then you'll die.”

She stared at him, then glanced back down to the cigarette still burning in between her fingers, then back at him. He regretted not running.

Then she laughed. Well, more of a snort than a laugh, and put the cigarette back between her lips.

“Is that like, one of your new characters or something?” she asked, words slightly muffled as she talked around the object in her mouth. “It's kinda shit, but alright.”

Eddie watched as she continued to smoke, even after he assaulted her with the most sudden and blunt anti-smoking campaign to ever be presented.

“Ha,” she continued, blowing the smoke out of her nose this time, like a dragon, or a tea kettle, or something, “work on it and you might have a decent Kaspbrak impression on your hands. That'll be some good ammo for ya.”

Richie did not like running.

He really did not like running for thirty minutes straight.

And he especially did not like running for thirty minutes straight while getting aggressively ordered around by some middle aged balding dude in a baseball cap. There were several times during the lesson when he had to stop himself from marching up to Mr. Tinydick and shoving that silver whistle so far up his ass that it got lodged in his throat and he choked to death.

He nearly crawled back to the locker rooms at the end of it, worried that his legs would just give out at any second, or that he would straight-up pass out from exertion. There was sweat literally dripping off him and his heart felt like it might actually burst out of his chest.

“Jeez,” Nerd Friend had said to him as he was slumped over on the bench seat with a towel around his shoulders, focusing all his remaining energy (of which there wasn't much) on staying conscious, “I've never seen you this tired out from a run.”

He wanted to return with some vulgar comeback, the first to mind was, 'oh yeah? Should have seen me with your mom last night. Yowza!' but what actually came out of his mouth was a drawn out, croaky whine, like the last sound you imagine a raccoon to make after it gets run over by a semi-trailer. Nerd Friend laughed softly and held out his hand.

“Okay, you really need a shower. Let's go.”

And so, after spending way too long standing under a busted shower hear with lukewarm water running down his back, making very little effort to actually, you know, clean himself, he was back in the locker room with a bunch of other dudes in various states of undress. Great!

He quickly got dressed and shoved the shorts as far as he could into the backpack, vowing to burn them as soon as he got home.

He made his exit just as the bell rang, – which was annoyingly loud on this side of the school. Between that and the coach's whistle, no wonder Eddie was so fucking tone-deaf.  The hallways started to flood with students once more, the majority of them taking absolutely no notice of him as he tried to navigate through, being rammed into and jostled around like a human pinball until he could make his way to the side of the walkway. He huffed in frustration, standing against the wall as he waited for the crowd to disperse a little.

Damn shortstack, he thought, how do you live like this?

When the coast was relatively clear and the danger of getting actually trampled by his peers was gone, he kept walking. It was Wednesday, third period, which meant he was supposed to be meeting Bev to go smoke. He had no fucking idea what Eddie did during this time – probably attended class, like a prep, which he really was way too tired to even think about doing.

He decided to go find Eddie, though he wasn't entirely sure what he would do or say once he did. He walked out the double doors leading out to the quad, his calves protesting every step with a dull ache. From where he was, he would half to walk at least halfway across the field to get to the their usual spot under the bleachers, which, despite really not being that big of a deal, felt like he was being asked to climb Mount Everest in that moment. Except he wouldn't get to meet the president and get a cover story in the newspaper, or whatever it was that people who climbed Mount Everest were awarded with. Maybe it was just satisfaction and bragging rights. That sounded stupid. He would at least want a medal.

And so he began his ascent. It took all of a minute and a half for him to get close enough to see that Bev was already there – with Eddie. Of course. He couldn't help but feel a twang of betrayal, even though he knew that she had no idea what she was doing. For all she knew, that was Richie, just … dressed different. And more of an asshole than he was yesterday. And probably – definitely – not willing to touch a cigarette with a ten foot pole, all of a sudden. Yeah, she would have no reason to question the situation whatsoever.

Neither of them had seen him yet, but he could hear Eddie frantically going off about something that was undoubtedly out of character for Richie. He groaned. This boy was never going to make it in the world of show-business.

“Speak of the devil,” Beverly said, nodding towards the approaching figure. Eddie's head whipped around to see Richie – who looked horrifically dishevelled and so not up to his standards, dear god – trying to get his attention with jerky hand gestures. “Is he waving at you?”

“Uh,” Eddie replied, trying to figure out the what message Richie was trying to send through this weird interpretive dance, “I have to go.”

He stood and brushed off the seat of his pants more than he needed to before walking over. She said something that he didn't quite catch but didn't turn back to ask.

“What are you doing?” he asked through clenched teeth, pulling him into a stride beside him back in the direction of the school building.

“Trying to stop you from making a complete idiot out of me,” Richie replied.

“Yeah, you do that enough on your own,” he spat back, smugly.

“Not the time, shit-for-brains.”

“Says you.”

“Says your mom.” “That doesn't make sense.”

“Your mom doesn't make- argh,” he stopped walking, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Really not the time. You need to seriously chill out, dude.”

“What are you talking about?”

“What I'm talking about is you can't be giving lectures, washing your hands fifteen times an hour, or freaking out about everything. You need to not be yourself,” he huffed, “you need to be – uh –”

“You?”

“Exactly. Me. Be cool.”

“Okay, well, I can be one or the other, I mean –”

Richie gave him a pointed look. Eddie sighed.

“Look, it's not that easy, okay? In case you couldn't tell, I've never been in this fucking situation before.”

“You think I don't know that! I – fuck!” He all but smacked himself in the forehead, eyes blown wide.   “What?” Eddie asked, tilting his head with his brow furrowed.

“The play,” Richie said, “I've got a rehearsal after school.”

“I though that was yesterday? You said they only happened once a week.”

“Yeah, well, we have to do extra rehearsals sometimes. It opens in like two weeks.”

“Fuck.”

“Yep.”

Eddie bit his lip, trying to think.

“What do we do?” he asked after a minute, worry written on his face. Richie looked at him, clicking his tongue. Eddie couldn't read his expression.

“Well,” he said, finally, his lips forming into a subtle smirk, “how do you feel about Shakespeare?”

Tag list (bolded won’t tag):  @fanficisgoodforthesoul @i-is-gazebo@dandeliontozier@panicatbakerst@howellhxlic@musicalsaftermusicals@bernaynay @bust-a-move-bev@reddie-to-go@richietoaster@omgboiledcabbages@reddietofall@flowersiren@lousytrashmouth @get-fcking-reddie@finnwollfhards @bjrdies@steve-harringtwin @thecastlebyers@books-and-donuts@valenschmidt@grasshoppper @80s-trashmouth@beepbeeprichiellc@little-miss-hellraiser@okay-i-get-it-alreddie @finn-trashmouth@kaspbrakseggo @lolahood @sad-synth@turtleneckrichie@reddieforanything @vitomire @its-stranger-than-you-think@spooky-risley @ohheydatsme @hoteltozier @holystanlon@apatheticphotos@dewdropseddie @ill-float-too @peterparkerwithoutacause@sir-furry @ailecstuff @bird-uris @iamworried7 @beepbeepbitchard @trashcanonlegs@11leggomyeggo11@bisexual80scliffjumper @reddieseggrolls 

[askpolylosersclub]

I just want to mention that y’all are some amazing people and that every single one of you is important and that’s something none of you should ever forget. ❤️ I also want to ask that all of you say what you love the most about each other everyday because it’s always nice to hear things like that and you never know when someone needs to hear it.

Thank you so much, chickie~ It’s so lovely of you to say something like that. I would LOVE to make a list like this, about my wonderful boys, so that’s what I’m gonna do. I’m sure most people will agree with me on this stuff, so it’s okay if I do it all, haha~

His fashion sense is so weird and eclectic, but it’s bright and colorful and playful and we love it (even those of us who pretend not to).

He’s super super smart, even though you might not think so. He might even be the smartest out of all of us, naturally, he just doesn’t put the work in, haha.

HIS HAIR! Richie’s hair is ABSOLUTELY AMAZING, period. No one would ever disagree with me. It’s like his best feature.

He’s so tall you feel a cross between ‘awww, my lanky giraffe baby’, and ‘holy shit he’s tall and I’m wet’.

He’s all skinny and you can wrap your arms right around him like four times.

His glasses are fricken ADORABLE.

And he’s so blind with them off and that’s cute, too.

He’s SUPER TALENTED. Like, he can do voices and impressions and he’s a brilliant actor, he can dance, he can sing, he can play instruments, and he’s just great at making people LAUGH, and isn’t that one of the best talents of all?

He has super cute freckles basically EVERYWHERE. He’s like a sky full of stars all on his own.

He’s beautiful, and he makes jokes about his appearance, because I don’t think he even realizes how gorgeous he is, and that humility is beautiful, too.

Did you mean, ‘my future husband and the most beautiful man in the universe, inside and out, Ben Hanscom’?

He’s the literal definition of a gentleman.

He’s ADORABLE with a capital A. Like, everything makes him shy, he can’t talk about sex out loud, he’s just the sweetest guy in the world, and every time you see him you’re compelled to like…squish his beautiful face.

ATHLETIC. Like, so athletic my ovaries are crying.

But he’s super smart, too, like…what?

When he talks about books his face just lights up and I wanna cry and protect him forever.

Not that you would need to, because he’s brave and strong, too.

He’s just so calm and laid back, he’s really lovely to be around all the time. Literally nothing about him could ever make you mad or upset or stressed out.

Caring and respectful.

I don’t think I’ve ever even heard him curse out loud before, in my entire life.

THE literal sunshine

The happiest, kindest, loveliest man you will ever meet.

He loves animals so much and he talks about them literally every day. Like, catch Mike over breakfast talking about how much he loves elephants and how if he met an elephant in real life he’d cry.

TALL, DARK, AND HANDSOME??? YES.

Can always cheer you up, no matter what. Someone just mugged you and stabbed you in the chest? Hey, don’t worry about it, Mike Hanlon is here, and pretty soon he’ll have you convinced that being stabbed was a positive experience in your life, that made you a stronger person. And in the meantime, he’ll patch you up, make you some hot cocoa, and tuck you into bed with a kiss on the forehead. Then he’ll watch over you while you sleep so that nothing bad ever happens to you again.

SO. STRONG. He could probably carry all six of us at once.

The voice of an ANGEL.

Literally knows everything. Like, you wanna know a random fact you think nobody will know the answer to? Ask Mike.

An adorable nerd.

The best cook in the world. Like, move over Gordon Ramsay. Mike will make you the best meal you have ever had, AND he will never shout or curse at you while he’s making it. He’ll probably just give you compliments and sing your favorite songs.

Fearless Leader. And I mean, literally FEARLESS. Bill isn’t scared of ANYTHING.

But somehow, he’s also the cutest, most softly-spoken human being on the planet. He’s the literal dictionary definition of SOFT. Look up the word ‘soft’, and there’s a picture of Bill Denbrough.

And he probably drew that picture himself, because he’s such an amazing artist, and I mean drawing, painting AND writing!

Cares about his friends and family more than anything in the world. We know he would die for any of us without a second thought (not that we would want him to or let that happen, obviously).

HIS STUTTER IS THE CUTEST SHIT EVER.

Stunning. Beautiful. Handsome. Pretty. Gorgeous. He’s just really good-looking, okay?

TALKS TO INANIMATE OBJECTS LIKE THEY’RE PEOPLE. Like his bike, his car, his laptop…

Eyes that are so piercing and blue that if you look into them you’ll die, but it will be totally worth it.

Bill has the nicest, most pleasant voice you have ever heard in your life. You could listen to him read the obituaries and you’d still be super relaxed and also like ‘awwwww’.

SO. CLUMSY. AND. WE. LOVE. IT

A little angry baby.

So tiny you just wanna pick him up and carry him around in your pocket and feed him little teaspoons of sugar water.

But on the flip, FEISTY AS SHIT. Like he could probably beat the crap out of literally anyone, but he’s so pretty that you wouldn’t even care if he beat your ass into the ground.

SO. PRETTY.

His eyes are so huge and brown and sparkly and he has the longest, thickest lashes I have ever seen like…girl, tell me your secrets.

Gets embarrassed about stuff super easy and it’s actually adorable. Even though everything about Eddie is adorable. Period.

Seems kinda dense about some stuff, especially like grown-up things like taxes and laundry and sex cooking, but is also super into science and knows all of this insane terminology and like how micro-organisms work and stuff. He’s a SMART. BOY.

Boxing AND cheerleading. Like he’s so strong and aggressive and he could probably bench-press any of us, but his favorite color is baby pink, and he loves dancing to pop, and his favorite singer is Ariana Grande. He’s the epitome of FEMININE POWER.

Tiny little freckles in certain places, like his cheeks, that stand out if he has been in the sun or if he’s blushing. Like, could he BE any cuter?

Can literally fall asleep ANYWHERE. on anyONE.

The most beautiful being to ever walk the face of the Earth. He’s not even a human being. Like no one is that good-looking.

Super intelligent. Like…give him any math problem and he’ll work it out in his head in literally a couple of seconds.

JUST LOVES BIRDS SO MUCH. Like he’s such a bitch how is he also so soft???

QUEEN BITCH. MASTER OF SASS AND SARCASM. But we love him that way.

FRICKEN. BEAUTIFUL.

Actually really sweet. Like, you never feel like you couldn’t rely on him. His exterior bitchiness only goes so deep. It actually really doesn’t go very deep at all.

LEGS FOR DAYS.

Really takes care of us, in ways we don’t always even notice. Like, takes care of all of our taxes/finances/bills/utilities/budget etc etc and does most of the cleaning/organizing. Leaves sticky notes everywhere with reminders for us, makes all of our lists, helps us with our studying and homework. If he left, we would literally fall apart, and he never even mentions that he does that stuff.

I know I haven’t really mentioned anything like this yet because I was trying to leave it out, but…SEX GURU? You want advice? Go to Stan.

DID I MENTION BEAUTIFUL???

- Bev xx

[ieroween1031]

Bev/Richie BrOTP Headcanons:

(These are really long; like I’ve said before, I have absolutely no idea how to convey ideas in less than like, seven thousand words, so headcanons are new to me. But if you have any requests, send me a prompt, and I’ll do some more because I actually really like doing them! Open to other fandoms, too, like Shameless, TWD or Stranger Things!)

Bev and Richie are best friends.

Like, BEST best friends.

They’re are always the ones with the bad ideas

And they’re always supporting the other’s bad ideas

Like how Bev is the only one cheering when Richie finally lays into Huggins for pushing Eddie in the hall, while all the other Losers try to pry him off

And Richie is all for Bev’s cousin making them fake IDs

They sneak out of their different classes at the same time to share a smoke in the girls’ bathrooms

They have English together, and their English teacher is NOT happy about it. She sat them next to each other once and has never immediately regretted a decision more in her life because they would NOT. SHUT. UP.

Not only that, but Richie would make dick jokes (out loud, of course; he’s no pussy) about EVERYTHING the class read, and Bev would laugh her ass off every time.

“Of course Juliet killed herself. Couldn’t live without that dick!”

“Why is it that when she does it, she just has to wear an A on her tits, but when I do it, I get detention for ‘inappropriately propositioning the music teacher’?”

“Call me Ponyboy, cuz I’ll let you ride it.”

“TOZIER!”

Meanwhile, Bev is hanging out of her desk, one hand on the floor literally crying with laughter.

After that, the teacher moves them completely across the room from each other

But do you think that stops them? Oh, no.

They try to sneak it and sit together anyway, since the seat next to Bev is empty, but they always get caught.

So they just literally shout across the room while the teacher’s talking

Or they stand and throw notes back and forth like football players, not even trying to hide it

It’s so bad that the teacher finally relents and lets them sit together, because then at least the ruckus is contained to one corner of the room

Richie drives Bev to school, since they live the closest, AKA they both live in ‘poor town’.

Richie has a thing for climbing houses and sneaking in windows (For real, though, I’ve never met anyone that disagrees, so if it wasn’t actually canon, it is now)

So when he has a bad day, or when Bev and her father argue, she’ll lock her door so her father can’t get in and sit on the roof with him and smoke.

This is where they got high for the first time, just the two of them.

If Richie’s having a really bad night, he’ll let himself into her room while she’s sleeping and just sleep on the floor (sometimes he goes to Eddie’s instead; it just depends on how he’s feeling that night).

Until one winter night. Bev woke up when Richie was closing the window. He wasn’t wearing a coat, so she told him to just lay in the bed with her to warm up.

He only meant to stay for a minute, but he was hella tired so he crashed. The next morning, he woke up with his head on Bev’s chest and her arms around him.

When she woke up, she just kissed the top of his head and left to go to the bathroom.

Now every time Richie spends the night, they sleep in Bev’s bed and cuddle.

Bev is the big spoon

Richie goes with Bev to get her belly button pierced when she’s sixteen. He holds her hand the whole time

He kinda wants his done too, but the piercer snorts and says it’s a girl thing (which upsets Richie even though he tries to hide it, and Bev is so angry at the guy that she ‘accidentally’ knocks over an entire case of jewelry on her way out)

In the end, he gets his nose pierced, and Bev tells him how sexy he looks the whole way home (Eddie agrees by nearly attacking him with kisses in the middle of his living room when Richie comes over to show him)

Richie has really small feet for a guy (which bothers him for some reason) so he’s always stealing borrowing Bev’s Doc Martens

Bev gets revenge by taking all his favorite Hawaiian shirts

He pretends to be mad, but Bev slays in them, and even his gay ass can’t deny that she looks better in them than he does

Everyone assumes that Richie is this player, because he flirts with literally everyone. Guy, girl, gay, straight, undecided, it doesn’t matter; Trashmouth Tozier will make kissy faces and wink at you

But only Bev knows that he’s a scared virgin, and that he’s only ever been intimate with Eddie

She and Ben have sex first, so she shares everything she knows with Richie. She even lifts him some condoms and a bottle of lube from the pharmacy since he can’t go buy them himself because people can see me, Beverly!

Richie helps Bev shop for lingerie, and she always models it for him at home.

He insists that she could wear a burlap bag and Ben would bust a nut, but she likes the way she feels knowing she’s dressed in leather or lace under her clothes and nobody else (but Richie) knows, so it’s as much for her as it is for Ben.

In that case, Richie wholeheartedly supports this, because he is all for his best friend feeling powerful and sexy, like Yaas, slay, my Queen!

Richie has absolutely no problem buying Bev tampons if she’s on her period and cramping so bad that she can’t get out of bed

And she gets killer periods, so when she’s on the rag, they’ll watch movies and pig out on ice cream together

Richie is a touch slut with everybody, always wanting physical contact, like hand holding, or playing with someone’s hair, or sitting on their lap, or kissing their cheeks

Bev (even more so than the rest of the Losers) lets him be as touchy as he wants, and never calls him out on it because she knows that aside from the Losers, he’s never been shown any other affection, so it’s normal for him to want it so badly

(Which she knows because she asked Ben to do the research on why kids from broken homes are sometimes more affectionate)

People always assume they’re a couple, since Richie is so handsy with her, and they never correct anyone

They always down to play the part when one of them is getting hit on, so much so that Richie has kissed Bev almost as much as Eddie

Richie knows when Ben and Bev do anything sexual for the first time, as Bev always tells him about it immediately afterward

Richie returns the favor, knocking on her window one Wednesday night in the middle of the summer of their Junior year, explaining that they’d finally done it. Eddie and Richie have finally lost their virginity to each other.

Bev cries and gives him the biggest hug

She cries even harder when Richie tells her that they used the condoms and lube she stole for him

She paints the nails on his middle fingers black for him every week, but just the middle fingers, because he says that’s the one he uses most often

They talk about serious things when they’re cuddled in bed together

Bev tells Richie that she knows in her heart that she’s gonna marry Ben, and that one day, Richie will be the godfather to their children

Richie doesn’t say anything, but Bev hears him sniffle happily

Richie admits that he plans to follow Eddie to whatever college he gets into, (since he was never planning on going to college, anyway) no matter where in the country it is

Even Alaska, even though Richie hates the cold

That’s when Bev knows he’s serious about Eddie, even though he’s never been serious about anything else in the world

He also confesses that he’s terrified when he thinks about how hard their life will be, and how much it fucking sucks that they’ll always live in constant fear, simply because they’re two guys in love

Bev agrees, and kisses Richie’s shoulder

But he also tells her that even with all the bullshit, teasing, violence and fear, he doesn’t ever wish he was straight, because Eddie was the best thing that has ever happened to him

They agree that no matter where they go, and how long they’re apart for, that they will always be there for each other

Fast forward ten years:

Richie stands up by the altar in a tux and a vest that’s the same shade of tiffany blue as the bridesmaid dresses

He gasps when he sees Bev, even though he and Eddie were with her when she found her dress. He even cries as she walks down the aisle

He holds her bouquet, keeps Ben’s ring safe during the ceremony, holds her dress when she has to pee, makes an inappropriate and hilarious speech, and basically just nails this whole Maid of Honor thing (Bev was fine with calling him her Man of Honor, but he insisted that he was not missing out on anything that came with the job, and that includes the title Maid of Honor)

He DJ’s a lot of the reception, until Bev pulls him onto the dance floor for a slow dance

He tells her how much he loves her while they’re dancing, how happy he is and how beautiful she looks. How proud he is of what she’s overcome, and how honored he is to have such an amazing woman for a best friend

And now she’s crying

Fast forward two more years:

Bev beams from her spot as Best Man, looking sharp as shit in a tailored black tuxedo and a pastel pink bow tie (Picking the colors was a process. Eddie loved pastels, but argued that light pink was too ‘girly’ and obvious for a queer wedding. Richie, however, was not having it, and insisted that Eddie’s favorite color be showcased in all its grandeur, no matter how gay it was)

She got to hold Ben’s and Richie’s hands (After much deliberation about who was going where, they put Ben and Stan on Richie’s side, while Eddie had snatched up Bill and Mike for his party) while Eddie walked down the aisle, alone but confident

She cries like a baby when Richie mentions her in his vows

“I told Beverly years ago that I was gonna follow you no matter where you went, and she never doubted me for a second. She’s always encouraged me to chase my dreams, and that’s you.”

Bev helped them decide what song should be their first dance song

Spoiler Alert: It’s Everything I Do (I Do It For You) by Bryan Adams

Afterwards, all the Losers storm the floor for their own special dance (they dance to St. Elmo’s Fire)

They all hold hands and dance and sing at the top of their lungs, even though Bill still stutters a little, Eddie’s tone-deaf, Ben is usually too embarrassed to sing, and Stan has two left feet

Beverly is the last person to kiss the boys before they leave for their honeymoon, and she watches the limo drive off with eyeliner streaming down her face