#Richie Tozier Fanfiction

[myveryownfanfiction]

18+ MINORS AND THOSE WITHOUT AGE IN BIO DNI

warnings: IT/Pennywise mention, spoilers for IT, character death mention, swearing

AN: so a different version of Richie. I forgot how much I love Harry Anderson. I don’t want to write for Harry stone so I’ll write for Richie.

Time seemed to move faster than the speed of light after we climbed out of the sewer. Richie had drapped Eddie over his shoulder, both of us knowing we couldn’t leave him down there. Everyone went their separate ways, pairing off with the people we never thought we’d actually have a chance with. Richie squeezed my hand as we climbed into his convertible.

“What do we do if we start to forget?” I looked at him. Richie raised his eyebrows at me.

“(Y/N), I’m counting on forgetting. I can’t wait to forget everything to do with that fucked up clown. What is there about any of this you’d want to remember?” He exclaimed.

“What I meant was what if we forget each other. Or why we’re together. Or…” I frowned as I watched the town sign in the rear view mirror. “What if we forget Eddie?” Richie reached over and squeezed my hand again. His face softened as he searched for somewhere to pull over.

"Darling, we won't forget him." I shook my head and tightened my grip on his hand. "To quote Stan, it's imperically impossible. It's Eddie we're talking about here!"

"Mike was already starting to forget when we left Derry Rich. What if, in a week, you wake up to me sleeping next to you and you have no fucking clue who I am? Are you going to kick me out of bed? Think I'm just a one night stand?" I shook my head at him. "Richie, I don't want to lose you again." Richie leaned over and cupped my cheeks. He kissed me gently before pulling back to rest his head against mine.

"Sweetheart, I'll write myself a note. Like that stupid movie you made us watch while we were waiting for news about Mike. Every damn day if I have to." He stroked my cheek with his thumb. "(Y/N), I'm not going to forget you." Kissing my forehead, Richie pulled away to start the drive to the airport.

"What if I forget you?" I whispered. Richie chuckled and shot me a look.

"Really (Y/N)?" He laughed. "I think one morning you're going to wake up and think what the hell is comedian Richie Tozier doing in MY bed." I laughed as I looked over at him and shook my head.

"Beep beep Richie." He smiled at me as we left the town, and our memories, behind.

[eddiekaspbrakirlsblog]

when I remember in IT chapter two that reddie were gonna leave TOGETHER I go insane like that whole scene where Richie’s like “Eduardo andele let’s go!” And when Eddie’s like “I just have to grab my toiletry bag and then we can go” WE CAN GO ???? WE ? AS IN TWO ? AS IN US TOGETHER ?????

[theartsharki]

“How many years have we all lost because we were too scared? Do you really want to continue living like that?” Bev’s serious voice reminded Richie of his mother’s when he was in deep trouble. The shame rose in his throat, stinging as he tried to swallow it down.

Richie couldn’t think of a reply to that. He just sat there silently.

Read Chapter 5 of Jawbreaker here.

[seecarrun]

“Eddie.”

“Stan.”

Stan continued his sudoku, waiting for Eddie to explain why he called. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” he offered tiredly, when it became painfully clear Eddie was going to provide for him absolutely nothing.

Sure enough, Eddie sighed heavily. “I have a… a weird question.”

“Shoot.”

Eddie hesitated for a long moment before finally clearing his throat and asking, quietly, “Do you think I’d ever, like, you know… have a chance… with, uh… Richie?”

Stan all but slammed down his pen. “What?” he asked, curtly.

“It’s just,” he went on, clearly nervous, “I think I’ve kind of liked him for a while, but I thought he was straight, and then he came out! But I don’t want to ruin what we have as friends, you know?”

“Eddie,” Stan grumbled, massaging his temples, “I am going to strangle you.”

“Hey, fuck you too, bro! I’m trying to be cautious here!”

“No, you don’t understand,” Stan sighed heavily. “Richie has been in love with you since the eighties. Please go for it.”

Eddie was silent on the other end of the phone for a long while, until he finally squeaked out a little, “R-really?”

“Yes,” Stan snapped, then promptly hung up the phone with a grunt. Somewhere in the other room, Patty laughed out loud at his bluntness.

He was getting too damn old for this shit.

[gaylittlerichie]

crosseyed & painless

6/6 chapters, 58k words

If he were the kind of person who analyzed these things, Richie would clock that he’s getting kind of depressed. Like, actually depressed. But even then there wouldn’t be much he could do about it. There’s no way to express ’Mom, Dad, being cooped up with jack shit to do is killing me, seriously killing me, let me out for a little White Widow and a couple rounds of Missile Command at Bill’s or send me to the rubber room’ and not sound like an idiot baby. Especially given his proven idiot baby tendencies.

[zombiigrll]

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DISCARDED. ⋆｡°✩ richie tozier x gn!kaspbrak!reader .ᐟ WORD COUNT .ᐟ ⭑ 2.8K ꩜ .ᐟ WARNINGS ⭑ mostly angst then little but of fluff, lots of movie dialogue at first, gross stuff because its a horror movie!! reader is eddies twin, gender neutral and quiet reader, terrible ending yk me, not really a defined relationship its more just an implied shared crush ! .ᐟ SUMMARY .ᐟ ⭑ you’ve always been a quiet person, especially being the least favorite in your family. the losers didn’t realize how bad it was until neibolt. ꩜  .ᐟ A/N .ᐟ ⭑ omg… maxine posts something that ISNT TWD RELATED?1?1?!1 WHATTTT????? i hope you guys enjoyy i know its very different but i wanted to give myself a little different dialogue i guess?? i wanted to write for something different for once!! except it was a little funky trying to write for a character not in twd... this definitely isnt my best work!! but as alwaysss if you guys really want a part two ill make one!

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you were lucky to have a brother like eddie in a family such as the kaspbraks. 

the two of you were twins, and due to your mothers lack of hospital visits when she was pregnant, she thought she was just having one boy. you were… an unpleasant surprise, to say the least. 

as you grew up, you frequently wondered why your mother didn’t just put you up for adoption. it was a crazy thought, but it was true. it was obvious to everybody that eddie was her favorite, and you understood why. he was nice, clean, and he loved her.

you also were nice and loved her, but you believed it just wasn’t enough.

you started hanging out with your brother and his group of friends he called, ‘the losers club,’ not so long after bill’s brother georgie went missing. which also was not so long after your own… weird experience.

bill had told you the weird things he thought happened to his brother, and you didn’t think about how it correlated to you until the following day when you had a run-in with pennywise. 

you were lucky to have made out of that with just a gash on your knee, which your brother cleaned up for you after you excused it as ‘falling off your bike.’ 

it's been a little while since that incident, and much more crazy stuff has happened. everyone has had their own experience with pennywise at this point, and you all finally got your lead on where pennywise lived.

neibolt. 

nobody really wanted to go inside besides bill, so you guys got straws and whoever got the shortest one would have to go in. 

you, richie, and eddie were the unlucky ones. the only luck on your guy's side was bill being brave enough to willingly go inside.

“i can’t believe i pulled the short straw.” richie sighed, his voice lightly laced with fear. “you guys are lucky you’re not measuring dicks.”

you let out a light laugh, which made richie smile. the two of you had gotten close through your similar sense of humor, although you didn’t make most of the jokes. you were very quiet, and barely talked. you just laughed with him.

you followed richie as he walked over to a weird spider web that seemed to have something entangled in it. you watched his demeanor quickly shift as he unfolded the paper.

“what? what is it richie?” you moved over to his side to look at the paper.

“it- it says i’m missing.” his eyes went wide and his expression blank as he looked at the descriptions on the paper.

bill walked over in front of the two of you. “y-you’re not missing, richie.” 

richies chest began to rise up and down as he spoke again. “then why does it say it there?! that’s my shirt, that's my hair, that's my face!”

“richie calm down, it’s not real!” you put your hand on his shoulder, reaching for the paper.

“that’s my name, that’s my age, that’s the date!”

“calm down, this isn’t real.” bill tried intervening.

“what the fuck?!” richie continued to panic. you reached over and successfully took the paper away from him. “it says i’m missing, am i missing? am i gonna disappear?”

“richie.” you put your hands on his shoulders in an attempt to console him. “look at me. this isn’t real, he’s trying to mess with you. that’s his whole deal. it’s not real. you’re not going to go missing. not on my watch. or bills, or eddies.”

richie's face softened and he appeared to be more calm, just obviously shaken up. but that was quickly thrown away at the voice of a girl.

“hello?” the voice called. “hello..? help me, please!” 

“betty?” you questioned, looking up the stairs,

“ripsom?” richie continued.

you turned around, hearing a creepy, old voice saying your brother's name. you could see that he heard it, too.

“guys, do you hear that?” eddie asked, but richie and bill were too distracted by the girl at the stairs. you nodded at eddie and began following him towards the sound.

the two of you walked into the room, holding onto each other. ever since you two were little, you would hold onto each other whenever you guys were nervous.

you two looked around, when you suddenly heard a creek from behind you 

“guys?” eddie called out, looking and noticing the door shut.

“guys!” you yelled, running up to the door and attempting to open it. you could hear richie and bill on the other side of the door trying to open it, too.

“help!” you yelled, kicking the door.

you and eddie stepped back a bit, trying to find a way to get out. but when you turned around, you two spotted the floor breaking.

“time to take your pill, eddie.” you heard the creepy voice say behind the two of you. 

you both turned around to look, but as eddie made eye contact with the man, he fainted, falling down the hole and dragging you with.

you let out a yell, but you weren’t sure what exactly it was that you were yelling. 

you felt a crack beneath you as you and eddie fell onto a table. you were dizzy and your vision was almost completely blurry. the only thing you could feel was something warm dripping down from your forehead.

you groaned, attempting to move your hand up to your head. when you pulled it back, your hand was covered in your own blood. 

you could feel yourself slipping in and out of consciousness.

“y/n?” eddie called, looking over at your bloody figure. “holy shit!”

you looked at his arm, completely snapped in half. “eddie…”

he looked uneasy. he never liked blood, or, well, anything gross. everyone knew that. 

you two looked forward, seeing a familiar glove on the fridge in front of you guys, opening the fridge door from the inside. 

“IT..” you weakly called out. 

he walked out of the fridge, untwisting his body around, staring at you guys. 

it didn’t even feel real. you felt like you were hallucinating from your blood loss. 

“time to float.”

there was a loud ringing in your ears as he approached.

he ran up to eddie, holding onto his face and mocking him. eddie was attempting to hit him, and you threw yourself forward and weakly punched IT in the cheek in an attempt to get him away from your brother. 

he moved his attention to you, grabbing your face in his hand. “tasty, tasty, beautiful fear.”

“you’re… not real.” you whispered, sounding delirious. 

IT’s mouth began opening and getting closer to yours. 

“no, no, no!” eddie yelled, frantically looking around for a way to help you. 

but pennywise came to a halt when he heard the creek of a door. 

“help!” eddie screamed, resulting in pennywise throwing his hand over his mouth.

you could feel your body starting to pass out, but you were fighting it. “..shit.”

richie and bill ran into the room.

“eddie, y/n?!” richie yelled, looking at you and eddie on the ground, one bleeding from the head and the others arm in half.

“this isn’t real enough for you, billy?” pennywise taunted bill, squeezing your face as he talked. “i’m not real enough for you?” 

bill stayed silent, spacing out in fear.

“holy shit.” richie blurted out.

“it was real enough for georgie.” 

as they were frozen in fear, pennywise leaped forward towards the two, but beverly quickly stabbed him in the eye, stopping him.

“richie..” you looked up at him, your blood dripping past your eye. 

“get y/n and eddie - get y/n and eddie.” richie frantically said.

you began slipping in and out of reality again. every time it felt like you just blinked, everybody would be in a different position in the room.

you saw ben get his stomach cut open by IT’s claws, but when you blinked again, everyone was surrounding you and eddie and IT seemed to have gone away. 

“they’re awake!” beverly called, her hand on your shoulder. 

you felt your wound, which was now bandaged in whatever cloth they could find. there was still dried blood on your face. 

you couldn’t find words to describe how you were feeling. you were in pain, and scared. you were speechless.

richie turned over and hugged you tightly. “oh, thank god.” his voice was shaken.

he turned back over to eddie, looking at his broken arm. “okay.. i’ll put the arm back in place.”

eddie begins shaking his head frantically. “do not fucking touch me!” 

richie begins counting down, setting his hands up on his arm.

“do not fucking touch me!” eddie repeats, but right as he says it, richie snaps the arm back in place. 

“holy shit..” you whispered, looking away quickly.

…

you guys pedaled back to bills house, you rode on the back of richies bike. shortly after, your mom met up in front. she was furious.

she grabbed eddie and put him in the front seat, slamming the door shut. “you, you did this.” she angrily said, pointing at everyone, including you. “you know how delicate he is.”

“what about me, mom?” you angrily muttered under your breath.

“what was that?” she stepped closer to you, looking down at you.

“what about me?” you repeated angrily. “mom, my head is split open, i- i barely know what is happening right now, and all you care about is eddie!”

“do not speak to me like that.” she firmly stands, putting her finger on your chest. “you think your brother deserved to get hurt?” 

“no! obviously not!” your voice began getting higher and higher. “it’s the way you’re acting like nothing happened to me, or anyone else here. we were attacked, it wasn’t anyone's fault. ben's stomach is cut open, too! it wasn’t just eddie!”

she shakes her head and grabs your arm, attempting to pull you into the car. you pull your arm away. “what are you doing?” 

“i’m not going home with you. obviously eddie needs all the attention he can get.” you crossed your arms and stepped back. “i’ll be home tomorrow.”

she scoffs and shrugs, stepping away into the car and driving off. 

that was the most you think you’ve ever spoken in your life.

you began taking deeper breaths, putting your hands over your face. you felt a hand placed on your shoulder, and when you looked up, it was richie.

he didn’t say anything, he just simply pulled you into a hug.

“i saw the well.” bill speaks up after a moment of silence. you break from your hug with richie to look at him. “w-w-we know where it is, and next time we’ll be more prepared.”

“no!” stanley yells. “no next time, bill! you’re insane!” 

“why? we all know nobody else is going to do anything.” beverly defends bill, making you scoff.

“are you serious?” you mumbled, rolling your eyes.

“eddie and y/n were nearly killed!” richie reminds the two angrily. he looks over at ben and points to him. “and look at this motherfucker! he’s leaking hamburger helper!” 

you looked up at richie with a solemn smile.

“we can’t pretend it’s gonna go away.” beverly continues, looking sort of frantic. “ben, you said it yourself, it comes back every 27 years.”

ben shakes his head, sort of distraught. “fine! i’ll be forty and far away from here. i thought you said you wanted to get out of this town too.”

“because i want to run towards something, not away.”

“i’m sorry, who invited molly ringwald into the group?” richie says, getting flipped off by beverly in the process.

“richie..” you attempt to calm him down, but he’s obviously shaken up.

“i’m just saying, let’s face facts.” he continues. “real world, georgie is dead. stop trying to get us killed, too.”

richie takes your hand and tries to pass by bill, but bill quickly stops him. “georgie’s not dead.”

richie takes a deep breath before continuing. “you couldn’t save him, but you can still save yourself.” 

he attempts to walk by with you again, but bill stands in the way. “no, t-t-take it back! you’re scared, we all are, but take it back!” 

bill shoves richie on his last ‘take it back,’ making you stumble over yourself a bit. richie shoves bill back, resulting in bill punching richie in the face, almost knocking his glasses off.

“bill, what the fuck?!” you yelled, running over to pick richie up with stanley and mike.

“you’re just a bunch of losers!” richie yells as you guys hold him back from bill. “fuck off!”

“richie, stop!” stanley says, trying to keep him back.

“you’re just a bunch of losers, and you’ll get yourselves killed trying to catch a fucking stupid clown!” richie yells before beverly pushes herself in between bill and him.

richie pushed you, mike, and stanley off of him. 

“stop!” she looks back at richie then bill as she speaks. “this is what IT wants. IT wants to divide us! we were all together when we hurt IT, that’s why we're still alive!” 

“yeah?” richie speaks up again, grabbing your arm. “well, i plan to keep it that way.” he shoulder-checks bill as he makes it back to his bike. 

you look over at bill, as if there was something to say in a situation like this. but really, there wasn't. you just exchanged disappointed looks at one another before you sat on the back of richies bike and rode away.

…

you were now at richies house. he brought over a couple gauze pads and bandages, a damp cloth, and some antibiotic ointments he found.

“how are you feeling?” he asked, sitting down next to you on his bed. 

you silently shrugged. so much had just happened, you couldn’t even think about how you actually felt. 

he nodded understandingly, setting his numerous medical supplies next to him. “can i help you clean your cut?” 

you nodded, turning your body over to face him. richie seemed to be pretty nervous, you noticed from his hands shaking as he reached over to take your original ‘bandage’ off. after he took it off, he grimaced and pressed his lips together. “holy shit. are you sure you’re okay?”

you reached your hand up to your head and felt the gash. you couldn’t tell exactly, but it felt to be pretty large. “um.. yes?” a laugh ended up escaping you, a nervous one, but a laugh nonetheless. “i mean, it hurts really bad, but not as bad as it did earlier.”

richie smiles anxiously as he reaches over to grab the damp washcloth. “alright, if you say so. let me know if this hurts.”

he puts his hand up to your cheek and begins taking care of your wound, softly cleaning off the blood around the gash. despite the intense sting, you tightly close your eyes and bite your cheek. 

after a while, he finishes cleaning and bandaging your wound, but his hand still awkwardly lays on the side of your face. richie looks at your freshly bandaged head, then your eyes. but the second you made eye contact, he cleared his throat and turned his body away. 

you and richie always had an awkward tension ever since you met him. even eddie had pointed it out a couple times to you. 

you laid down next to him, resting your head right next to his legs and looking up at him. he looked down at you awkwardly for a moment before laughing. “whats up?”

“you’ve got something on your glasses.” you said, fully serious. 

he raised his eyebrow, a look of genuine confusion laying on his face. “what? where?”

“right…” you smiled before reaching up and knocking his glasses off of his face, “..there.”

richies eyes shut as his glasses fall to his lap, but he laughs at your action anyways. “hah.. okay. rude.” 

as he reaches to put his glasses back on, you notice a bruise forming on his cheek. the same cheek that bill had punched earlier. “hey, wait.” you grab his glasses as you sit back up, getting a better look at the bruise. “you should really put some ice on that..”

“huh? what’re you talking about?” 

“your cheek, richie. its bruising.” you gesture to his face.

he moves his hand up to the cheek, wincing a bit at the pressure. “oh, right.” his tone and body language changed to appear more angry as he thought back at what had happened just a few hours ago. “so fucking stupid.” he muttered under his breath.

“come on.” you grab one of his hands, putting his glasses back on with the other. “let’s just go get something to help.” you step off of the bed.

he looks down at your hands together nervously before following you off of the bed with a nod. “..alright.” 

“..do you wanna go to the arcade afterwards?” you said with a smile in an attempt to brighten his mood. 

he looks up at you with a smile. he looks at a loss for words and simply nods in response. 

so, the two of you grab an icepack- well, a frozen bag of peas - and begin heading over to the arcade together. 

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[it2017]

that teenage feeling!

fem! richie tozier/eddie kaspbrak, M rating, 50k words

Eddie responds, quietly, "I don't think I'm one of those girls." and Richie has the desire to shake her by the shoulders then - because Eddie always knows what she wants, but for some, inconceivable reason refuses to let herself have it. But Richie knew she’d be a huge fucking hypocrite to say that, as she held herself back from the only thing she’d ever truly wanted, frozen in place like an opossum playing dead, as if loving Eddie would kill her. Maybe it would. (or: Eddie Kaspbrak grows up shaped like a boy and molts into a woman. Richie Tozier is there the whole time.)

finally posting this fic in honor of the 5 year anniversary of IT chapter two :') hope u like it!!

ao3 + playlist

[dear-trash-diary]

Page 4, a new day.

[lionleonora]

Reddie Fics for the Despairing It: Chapter Two Enjoyer

part of my unnamed "recommending non-classic fics for dead fandoms" series! this is a list of less well-known fics in the ITCH2 fandom, centered around reddie fics. these are all fics that i am passionate about, but you won't find them on the first three pages of ao3. if you're ready for something other than the classics, this is the list for you! organized in order of hits from least to most.

Revivified Death by ezlebe - something about me is that i love vampire fics, and vampire eddie. this features vampire eddie AND vampire richie—a treat! it's rated E, has some fun worldbuilding, and way fewer hits than i would expect (only 3,300!). some mentions of blood, but no crazy gore.

inertia and other properties of matter by skeilig - a “it’s always sunny in philadelphia” au, but not necessary at all to be familiar with the show! (i sure ain’t!) cool and seamless au worldbuilding, and some good mutual pining. plus, the gang is together and remembers each other! rated E.

your lips feel retro by kaspbrak_kid - the only T fic on here, but also teeth-achingly sweet! *stefon voice* this fic has everything—fake relationship, richie speaking at length about how much he loves eddie, multiple kiss scenes...plus some self-actualization + confidence boosts for eddie as he goes to his high school reunion!

push you out (pull you back in) by Anonymous - short, sweet, and sexy little one-shot! i don't usually go for established relationships, but i DO go for established relationships where each person has new and hidden depths of horniness that they have yet to reveal. enter this fic! rated E, and if you want more by this author, i'm preeeety sure i know who they are, but of course i'm just speculating.

the study of pathology by crescentluce - this is a sequel to crescentluce's fandom classic, the anatomy of a joke. this sequel is fantastic though! not as many people have read it, but it's absolutely worth it. told from eddie's perspective as he very quickly falls very hard in love with richie (though they've been dating for like, what. 30 minutes?). incredibly heartwarming and also super funny.

give a shape to this ache I have for you by youabird (nevulon) - i have a few all-time favorite fics that span multiple fandoms - this is one. this is a fic that i would take with me on a desert island. if this is the last reddie fic i could ever reread, it would be this one. featuring an eddie who is deeply unaware of his desires and desperately in love with richie. please please read this.

Health Improvement Planning for Dummies by glorious_spoon - a multi-chapter fic with a comparatively low hit count. dumbass for dumbass relationship, but also really hot. rated E!

hysteria when you're near by tempestbreak - this fic is fucking crazy, and i mean that in the best way. sex pollen is not common in this fandom (understandably - the worldbuilding is difficult) but this fic does it seamlessly and to great effect. an E-rated oneshot. this will literally change you.

Do you need anybody? by remusjohn - i am of the firm opinion that this should be a fandom classic. it's not quite there yet, but getting there! this is one of the first fandom fics i truly fell in love with, and also one of the only fics i've ever followed as it was posted! one of my favorite tropes is mutual pining WHILE they're having sex, and boy does this fic deliver. rated E. beautiful and fantastic.

Bonus: Author Recommendations!

organized in order of most to least fics written in fandom!

skeilig has a solid number of fics and a really interesting repertoire of AUs! as a purveyor of niche aus (REFERENCE TO MY BLOG??) i am very fond of the way they reimagine richie and eddie in a grounded, three-dimensional way.

glorious_spoon technically has fewer fics than skeilig, but they have a bunch more written anonymously for a kinkmeme event (i believe. something of that nature!). they write fantastically kinky, funny, and sweet stuff. if you're looking for something quick and satisfying (ayyyy) look through their library!

ezlebe is another in the ranks of "cool niche au authors." if you like supernatural creature reddie, or even just normal reddie, definitely look through their stuff! they have a unique voice and should be way more famous in the fandom imo.

remusjohn has the fewest amount of works in this list, but every one of them hits like a goddamn truck. they've written classics, they've written unknown fics—they've done it all! definitely check out their stuff for emotional smut and mutual pining!

thanks for sticking around this long! reddie is quite dead, but it will always be very close to my heart. reddie matters to me. i'm glad it and its writers matter to you too!

[lemonleafloser]

Reddie HC

I have this strong headcannon that when they have a kid, Richie just gets into rhyming all the time and trying to not swear in front of them. He eventually starts using the phrase “uh-oh spaghetti-o” which annoys Eddie to no end until the day that their kid just blurts it out when Eddie drops an egg on the ground or something.

[lavenderstarsx]

The Drawing (Bill Denbrough)

Pairing: Bill Denbrough x Reader

Summary: One day when you were in the library a drawing falls out of a book you were reading- and the drawing eerily looks exactly like you.

Word Count: 1.5k

——————-

You made your way slowly to The Derry Library. The fall weather was now in full effect and you couldn’t help the feeling of the slight chill you felt while you walked. You were looking for more interesting books at the library- currently you were reading ‘The Great Gatsby’ which you knew was a classic- but it was required reading so by that criteria it made it fairly boring. You opened up the door to the brick building and stepped inside. Almost no one was there. It was in fact a weekend so not a lot of people liked to spend their two free days in a dusty old building that probably had a rat infestation. You did see someone you recognized there. The boy you saw was Ben Hanscom. He had his head in a book. You barely knew Ben- the only reason why you even recognized him was because he sat with Bill Denbrough at lunch. Ben had just joined the little friend group that called themselves ‘The Losers Club.’ Bill was in many of your classes. You pretended not to notice him but- man was it hard to. Bill took up most of your thoughts. You memorized the way he laughed- even though it was rare and almost only came out when the Tozier boy whispered an inappropriate joke into his ear during a lesson. Your friends didn’t approve of Bill. They usually called him a ‘freak’ or ‘weirdo.’ You mostly ignored them because in your eyes, Bill was perfect. He was kind, caring, and respectful. Something that half the school wasn’t. Then you snapped back out of your thoughts. You headed towards the fantasy section. You read a lot of fantasy books now ever since you rewatched The Princess Bride a couple weeks ago. You looked through a ton of books but none of them seemed good enough for you. Then you saw one- it looked rather basic. The book had a huge red dragon on the front with a knight giving a cheesy smile next to it. You quickly read the blurb on the back before slightly opening it. A medium sized piece of paper comes gracefully falling from the book. You quickly look around before picking the paper up. You froze. The drawing looked exactly like you. It had your signature y/h/c colored hair. It was like looking into a mirror. The drawing wasn’t signed but it did look weirdly familiar.

“Do you need any help, dear?” An older librarian woman asks you. You practically jump out of your skin when she says this.

“No ma’m i’m fine.” You say gingerly. You try to hide your blush as you find a table to start reading on. You picked the table behind Ben. You thought it would have been too awkward or weird to sit right next to the boy. You could barely focus on your book, you kept finding yourself staring at the drawing of you. You were terrified but also mesmerized at the same time. You decided to leave the library not long after. You held the drawing and your book close to your chest. On your way out of the library you gave Ben a small smile before opening the door back into the chilly air. You walked back home, and when you got to your room you quickly put your new book down and flopped onto your mattress. You stared at the drawing for a while. The detail was so intricate that it got your exact eye color down too.

Finally it was the end of the day, you were now in your pajamas and you were now ~finally~ reading the book you had gotten from the library. You found yourself enjoying the book a lot more. You slowly drifted off to sleep.

The next morning you had to get ready for school. You chose a pair of jeans and a navy blue long sleeved shirt. You quickly brush your hair before rushing out the door. You made sure to grab the new book that you had just gotten and stuff it into your backpack. The bike ride to school was nice. You thankfully didn’t run into anyone from The Bowers Gang and you made it easily to school. The drawing was still in the back of your mind.

“Hey y/n!” You hear your friend, f/n shout to you. You quickly lock up your bike and rush towards them. You smile at them. They start talking about their weekend- which was not truly THAT interesting but you still smile and nod your head. You were more of a listener type. You and your friend walked to class together. But that’s when you saw him. Bill was walking to the same class as you. He was walking with Stanley Uris. Bill then had decided to hold open the door for you and f/n. You tried to hide your blush as you say,

“Thanks Bill”

“No pro-b-le-m y/n.” Bill then gave you a smile which made your heart melt to the core. You and f/n quickly went to your seats. You sat exactly behind Bill. The teacher started teaching the class but it was terribly hard to focus. Bill Denbrough, had given YOU a smile. You couldn’t help but to smile yourself. Bill also didn’t seem to be focusing. He seemed to be writing something in his notebook instead, you narrow your eyes to see if you could read anything of it. You didn’t want to seem stalker-ish so you pretended to be looking at the chalk board. But that’s when you see what Bill was doing- he wasn’t writing he was drawing. Bill wasn’t doing much to hide what he was doing. He seemed to be drawing a girl. Suddenly you feel Bill’s eyes shift. You and him caught eachother’s eyes. Shit. Bill then turns a bright shade of red and hides the notebook away from you.

That was odd.

The class went by quickly. In your head you tried to connect the dots. And that’s when you realize- what if Bill was the one to draw that picture of you? He had to- the style of drawing looked exactly like the picture of you did. Why would Bill draw you?

Throughout the day, you found yourself distracted. The thought of Bill and his drawings lingered as you walked to your next class. You kept replaying the events of the morning in your mind. Bill’s drawing, and the drawing from the library looked all too familiar. It was too much of a coincidence. Right?

Finally it came time for lunch. You spotted Bill with his friends. They were all gathered together. You feel a pang of jealousy as you sit with at your own lunch table. You glanced at Bill. He seemed distracted in thought. You decided to gather your courage and decided to walk towards The Losers’ table. When you reached the table everyone went silent. They all gave you a weird look. Everyone’s eyes were on you.

“Hey uh- Bill can I talk to you- for just a quick second?” You say.

Bill gave you a surprised look before nodding a yes. You and Bill find a quiet place on the stairwell that led to the cafeteria. You tried to ignore the curious stares of all of Bill's friends.

“Wh-at is i-t y/n?” Bill asked.

You take a deep breathe before pulling the drawing from your backpack.

“I- i found this in a book at the library yesterday,” You held out the drawing to Bill. “Did you uh- well draw it? I saw you drawing in class today and it looks alike to this one.” Bill’s eyes widened as he studied the drawing.

“Ye-a-h I did.” Bill admitted- he did look very embarrassed. You felt weird. You felt every emotion possible and something else that you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

“But why did you draw me?” You said the sentence quickly. Bill blushed.

"Be-because I… I like you," Bill replied, looking down. He was clearly embarrassed.

You froze as blood rushed to your cheeks. "You do?" you asked.

"Y-yes. And I, uh, have for a wh-while," Bill stuttered.

"I like you too, Bill," you revealed. You felt as though you were going to pass out, you were so happy.

Bills eyes widened again. He looked down meeting your gaze.

“Re-ally?” Bill questioned. A very small, shy smile formed on his lips.

You smiled, unable to control the large grin on your face.“Yeah, really.”

For a moment both of you stood there like time itself had stopped. Bill took a tiny step forward.

“So- u-h wh-at now?” Bill asked sheepishly.

You let out a small laugh trying to ease the tension,

“Do you want to go to the movies with me this weekend?” You replied.

Bill’s smile grew,

“I w-ould li-ke that.”

[watchoutforthefanfics]

goodbye for now || Reddie (IT)

AVAILABLE ON AO3 (SOON)

Inspiration: ^^^ this amazing art by @you-are-braver-than-you-think + I love you by Billie Eilish

Summary: Richie was ready to leave Derry. But that doesn't mean he's ready to leave everything in it.

TWs: crying, saying goodbye, angst, hurt/no comfort, the Forgetting (idk what to call it) and mention of the 27 years.

[[A/N: This one fucking hits. So be warned. Enjoy :)) ]]

Richie didn't believe in wanderlust. The whole longing for something bigger, better. Or that, one day, he'd want to leave Derry.

Not because it wasn't a shithole, it definitely fucking was. He knew that ever since that summer when their whole lives were changed (he still stared at the scar on his hand sometimes). Even still, he never in his heart felt like he wanted to leave his friends -they'd been through so much shit that he'd knew they would be there forever. Or at least, he thought they would be.

But then, people started leaving. Promising that they would write, that they would call.

And Richie watched their cars leave -chasing them with his bike the first time, waving so enthusiastically he almost fell off. But as time went by, they disappeared and there was nothing. Nothing from anybody. It changed.

The hugs lasted longer, and he cried a little more. All of them did. Because even though they said they'd call, or even fucking write, it never happened. It was like as soon as they left, Derry was just gone. Richie eventually learned to stop waiting.

Richie Tozier didn't believe in wanderlust when he was ten. But as he got older, colleges were reaching out and the world was at his fingertips, and well, teenage Richie Tozier believed in wanderlust. Magazines of monuments and letters from colleges, he wanted to fucking go.

Derry felt like a cage, and Richie was ready to open the door.

But it wasn't that easy.

Not as he stared at the acceptance letter from the University of California Los Angeles. Not as he saved up for an apartment with his shitty icecream parlor job (his parents wanted to help him, but they wanted him to earn it too) wage. Not as he got fucking excited about the idea of making more of himself than dirty bathroom walls (and a carving on the kissing bridge).

And especially not as he looked into the eyes of Eddie Kaspbrak and told him that this was his last summer in Derry.

"What?"

"Eds," he was laughing, but it felt like his heart was ripped open, "-I got accepted into UCLA a couple of months before we graduated. And I'm... starting in the fall."

"What?" Eddie repeated, and he watched his face twist into something Richie fucking hated (hurt), "-Why the fuck didn't you tell me that shit?"

"I didn't want to make this any worse," Richie answered honestly.

"Richie, it's fucking June," Eddie retorted, something deep and heavy in his words, "-and you're leaving in like two months and you didn't fucking tell me?"

Richie had debated it for a long time. But as he watched Eddie live out his senior year, the most free he's ever been, the decision was easy. He wouldn't ruin it for him, and, selfishly, didn't want to ruin it for himself. Make everything sadder than it already fucking was (with 3 missing faces and no contact to show for it). Because he just... god, he wanted this with Eddie. He just wanted to feel fucking happy with Eddie-

And that was a whole other thing. Richie had realized just what exactly Eddie was to him when he was 11 years old and he carved into that fucking bridge. He knew what it was, and what that meant he was. He knew that. And maybe that's why wanted to go to California. And maybe, he just wanted to remember that shit with him happily. Just in case-

"I know, Eds," he breathed out, feet dangling off the Quarry cliff -his shitty car parked just off the road, "-I'm so fucking sorry. But I wasn't going to fuck up our last year."

"It's not like we're fucking dying, idiot," Eddie retorted.

But it kinda was.

Richie knew that he'd fucking call Eddie, or even write him, whatever the fuck he wanted. He knew, if he could help it, he'd talk to him every fucking day, see him every summer, but shit... shit didn't work out that way. Everyone else said the same things, and now... now there were only 3.

Richie hadn't heard from Bev in years. Fuck, Stanley (his best friend before the Losers even existed) hadn't even called him once.

But he hoped to fucking god that wouldn't be him.

"No, we aren't fucking dying, but-" Richie relented, but it felt like a lie, "-our lives are changing. There's no going back to high school, where we're fucking together all the time."

"No, Richie," Eddie's face was pushed into a flat line, "-your life is changing. I'm gonna fucking... rot here in this shithole, by myself-"

"Eds, I told you-"

"I know what you said," Eddie sighed, turning out to the water -Richie wanted him to look at him, "-It's just not fucking happening. You know that. Ma is never-"

"You'll get away from her, Eds," Richie interrupted, "-You can't let her control you forever."

Eddie wrung his hands together and didn't look at him. Richie felt like throwing up, he just knew it would end up this way. He really didn't want to fucking leave Eddie.

They talked about Eddie coming too, running away. But then, his Mom got sick. And well, Eddie would hate himself if he left her -helpless. And Richie spent nearly every day trying to convince him differently, it hurt in his fucking chest when Eddie refused. Every time.

But he needed to fucking leave-

"I can't do that shit without you," Eddie leveled, looking at him, "-I can't... I can't stand up to her without you."

"Yes, you fucking can," Richie argued, shoving into his arm, "-You're brave as shit, Eddie. We fought a demon clown before hitting fucking puberty-"

"I did that with you guys!" Eddie burst, frustrated and Richie might've seen tears in his eyes, "-I did it with everyone. I'm not... Fuck, I can't do it alone. I don't wanna be alone."

Richie frowned, gnawing at his lips, "You're not alone, Eds. You'll never be fucking alone as long as I'm alive-"

Eddie was just staring at him, big brown eyes dusted with tears. Richie felt like his heart was ripped out of his chest, it just fucking hurt-

"-Eddie, even if I... even if I don't do anything like call or write letters, I'm still here for you-"

"Don't-" Eddie frowned, "-Don't say that shit."

"-Eddie, no, you need to hear this-" Richie leveled, putting his hands on his shoulders, "-If I don't talk to you, it's not up to me. I don't... I don't know why it's happening. But I swear to fucking god, I would come back to you, or at least fucking talk to you, okay?"

Eddie was crying now, wiping at his eyes like he was much younger (Richie flashed back a moment), "Yeah, okay."

The summer was, as expected, bittersweet. Richie knew it would be, but he kept it light-hearted or tried to with everyone not just Eddie. But still, it was heavy. In the clubhouse, which was so hard to be in now, there was something in the air. It sucked, but it was gonna happen. He knew it was gonna happen. So, he tried to make it the best summer of his life, of all of their lives.

He thinks it worked. He thinks he had a good impact. He thinks they'll remember this, or he'll try his fucking hardest to.

And then, it was August.

Richie had been packing up since late July, and Eddie made himself comfortable helping. ("You need to be fucking organized so you know where your shit is, asshole.") And Richie let him. He was pretty sure he'd let Eddie Kaspbrak do anything, honestly. So, he'd labeled boxes and argued why he "shouldn't take fucking everything you own, Richie", and danced around just what was happening. They didn't talk about that conversation over the summer, they didn't even touch the fact that he was leaving -not even over his packed fucking boxes.

Eddie just didn't seem to want to touch it, and Richie honestly didn't either. This felt normal, the bickering, even though the reason they were doing it all hung over everything like a fucking storm cloud. They still acted normal, like Richie wasn't leaving, like he was gonna stay right there. They were gonna stay. Together.

He wanted that so bad it burned, but Richie fucking needed out. It was time.

And then, it was the day.

Richie was silently packing up the last box, and taping it shut. And Eddie scribbled on the front with his insanely perfect handwriting -comics.

It was quiet, too quiet. Eddie was still crouched down, staring at the box, the words. And Richie was staring at him. Unabashedly. He thinks he should be allowed to now. And the thought crossed his mind of finally telling him, bubbled along his skin. As he watched Eddie's eyes trace the letters for the 10th time, it felt like it was on the tip of his tongue.

Richie cleared his throat -voice a little scratchy, turning toward his old bed (grabbing something under the mattress), an extra comic. A special one.

Wordlessly, Richie extended it forward.

Eddie eyed him for a second, standing up -glance landing on the comic.

"Are you fucking serious?" Eddie hissed out, "-You forgot one? You're such a-"

"Eds," Richie leveled -seriously, extending it forward -shaking it a little.

Eddie's lips snapped shut, and his eyes dropped from Richie's to the comic in his hand.

It was one they used to fight over when they were younger. He remembered particularly being on the hammock, Eddie's head on his shoulder (cussing him out when he moved too fast, but doing the very same when he moved too slow), and peeking glances when he was focused on reading. Because he was Eddie, and Richie felt a lot then. Still does, but he knows what it is now.

Eddie raised a hand, hesitantly, and pulled the book into his hands. Naturally, he started flipping through it -red pen sticking out on the page.

"I wrote notes," Richie pointed awkwardly, "-like um, like commentary. So..."

Eddie was silent, flipping through the pages -not looking up. Richie just kept talking.

"-So, it was like I was still here. Saying stupid shit."

Eddie laughed a little, something caught up in his throat. He swallowed once, heavily, eyes blinking a little too fast.

Fuck, don't cry, Eds. If you cry, I don't know if I can fucking leave.

"If you talk about fucking my Mom, I'm burning it."

Richie laughed, something heavy on your shoulders, "Well, you better get the fucking matches, Eds."

Eddie laughed a little more, finally looking up at him. The laugh faded, his smile slipping, and his eyes were the same big ass brown ones, but now they were teary. And he was just staring at him, his face falling further each second that passed. Richie felt like he was ripping out his heart and leaving it here with Eddie. It hurt so fucking bad-

And then, before Richie could even blink, Eddie was in his arms -face shoved into his shoulder.

Richie's eyes were watery now, his chest aching, and he wrapped his arms around him, unhesitatingly. He could feel Eddie's shaky breaths against him, wracking through his lungs. And Richie pulled him tighter, pressing the side of his face into Eddie's. God, he never wanted to forget him, please don't let me fucking forget him-

"Promise you'll write?" Eddie breathed out, heavy breaths against his shoulder.

And even though, they'd talked about the outcomes and the fact that, if he didn't, it wasn't up to him, something was happening. Richie still answered the same.

Squeezing him a little tighter, he whispered -maybe through bleary tears, "I promise."

They stayed like that for a while, and Richie felt it on the tip of his tongue. It almost came out with every breath.

Eddie, I love you. I think I've loved you my whole life.

It didn't come out.

Not as he and his Dad and Eddie packed all his boxes into his shitty ass car's trunk. Not as they forced his trunk closed. Not as Eddie angrily told him to take the necessary stops, don't skip meals, and stay hydrated ("Don't fall asleep on the road, dipshit."). Not as his Dad grabbed his gas can and filled Richie's tank. Not as his Mom hugged him, crying. Not as his Dad patted his shoulder and told him to "Take on the world, son". Not as he, Ben, Mike, and Eddie crowded together into a hug so tight that it hurt. Not as Eddie threw himself into Richie again (on his own), all angry edges and sharp pointy elbows ("Promise?" "Promise."). Not as he pulled himself into the driver's seat, aching like he had ripped off a limb. Not as he stared into the rearview mirror, watching as his friends waved and Eddie stared -waving so desolately that it was like he was going to war. Not even as he pulled out of Derry, and Eddie followed the car as far as he could (Ben and Mike pulling him back). Not as the trees flew by his windows, and his eyes teared up -road blurry and sobs wracking through his chest.

But as he got further along, it lessened. He stopped feeling so heavy, wondering why he felt that way before anyway. The towns passed by and he got out, hitting tourist spots (taking pictures and not being sure who to send them to). And then, he was in California, and everything felt fresh.

Pulling up to his apartment building, he trucked up the stairs over and over -boxes piling up in the empty room. When it was all inside, Richie laid down on the floor -letting a big breath out of his lungs. And then, he moved on autopilot.

Digging into his boxes, he found a piece of paper and pencil, pulled a box toward him, and set it down -throwing the pencil to the paper.

Richie blinked once.

He was supposed to write something, he felt it in his bones but he couldn't remember what, or maybe who to write to. But he was fucking supposed to, it was so... visceral.

Richie felt so... He felt something he'd never felt before, an ache in his bones. And just as everything seemed so happy, there was something nagging at him-

He scribbled along the paper, just what he felt (no header, no name).

I think I loved you.

Shaking his head once, Richie blinked and grabbed the paper, crumpling it up, and throwing it into a corner (the apartment really was fucking empty). This feeling would go away. If it mattered, he'd know.

And then, a year went by.

Eddie Kaspbrak arrived in New York, unpacking as soon as he got into his apartment. Digging through his boxes, his fingers dusted along some paper, maybe a magazine. Why the hell did I pack a magazine?

He pulled it out and eyed it for a second.

An old comic book. His eyes flicked along a red pen on the front, Return to Richie Tozier. Eddie pulled it open, skimming over the pages -hinging on red marks. They were shitty jokes, he noted.

Did I get this from some fucking second-hand store? Why? It's fucking ruined.

Eddie shut it and stared at the name again. Richie Tozier. He wondered for a second who he was, like a lot of people did with original owners of their shit, and felt something nagging in his mind. Richie Tozier, he repeated.

Nothing.

He pressed his lips together and although he didn't know shit about it (or why he fucking had it), he carefully placed it onto a table -away from anything else. He'd look at it later, maybe figure out why he kept it.

It ended up forgotten, slid into a bookshelf.

None of it would make sense. Not until 2 phone calls, 2 trips, and the hitting of a gong.

Then... Then, it would make a lot of fucking sense.

[theartsharki]

Made art to go with my fic "Sewn Into Each Other’s Fate" by me, @theartsharki . You know, your good pal Sharki! I will say I don’t think I am the best at writing but one silly short fic just for fun ain’t so bad? Enjoy the art more than my writing please.

[seecarrun]

Stan has seen this show before.

“We need to—Richie, get off of me! We need—Dude, fuck off!”

Richie’s loud laughter echoes through the room, bouncing off the walls and only getting louder as Eddie elbows, shoulders, and shoves Richie down the couch, fruitlessly.

It’s eerie, really. They really are exactly like they were when they were kids.

Unfortunately for them, Stan hasn’t changed much either.

“Rich, if you want to sit in Eddie’s lap so badly, at least buy him dinner first.”

Richie chokes at that, finally flinging himself to the other end of the couch and snapping his attention to Stan, betrayed, his eyes wide and his cheeks pink.

Stan nods in satisfaction. “There. Eddie, now you can moon at Richie properly, and we all don’t have to deal with both of your annoying flirting. Everybody wins.”

He knows he only has about three seconds before all hell breaks loose, but he soaks in the calm before the storm happily.

Some things never change.

[greenandsorrow]

IF THE MONSTER UNDER YOUR BED NEVER HURT YOU, MAYBE IT WAS THERE TO PROTECT YOU. 🎈

Pennywise bonding with a teen!reader/ platonic

-> For technical reasons (for the plot to continue plotting), this chap focuses mostly on the past! Another thing... I appreciate your feedback and comments more than you realise, so don't hesitate to interact with my fics 🥺❣️

-> It's giving Stockholm Syndrome, I'm aware, but that's why it's called fanFICTION.

-> I think it's funny how each chapter turns longer than the last. I'm getting hooked to my own writing I guess.

-> Pennywise the Dancing Clown: A trans-dimensional entity that shapeshifts and feeds on the fear -and sometimes the flesh- of kids and animals. IT hibernates for 25 to 27 years, then wakes up for 12 to 16 months, manipulating reality and slipping past the notice of adults.

Listen to: Ilomilo by Billie Eilish

~ 3 ~

Pennywise's POV 🎈

For five long years he has stayed awake, stalking the streets of Derry... waiting. Pennywise's usual cycle -hibernating after a killing and terrorizing spree- has been disrupted. This time, something -someone- kept him from descending to the deep slumber he usually craves.

He can't fully understand it, but it's because of you -the spark, the tug of connection he isn't familiar with. He's hunted countless children without a second thought. But with you... When he had expected you to cower and break, instead, you had resisted, you had played his twisted games and stared back at him without losing your soul. You had made him so curious. And that curiosity has gnawed at him enough to eat away at his rest, putting him in a sort of restless trance.

Every time he tries to slip beneath the Earth and to return to the darkness he came from, he feels a pull, a shudder that makes him cling to the surface for just a little more, for just another silly, little, stupid, meek year.

But as the years have been slipping by, something else has shifted in him as well -a subtle thing that feels almost like restraint. He still lurks in the shadows, his instincts are still telling him to frighten and to feed… but each time he sees you, that impulse falters. Instead of scaring you, he finds himself watching, almost guarding you from afar.

It feels a twinge of protectiveness -an urge that should definitely not exist in a creature made to hunt and devour. It doesn't get it, doesn't know why It lingers to ensure no danger befalls you, before It vanishes for the usual twenty-seven years. Almost as though, Pennywise the Clown is bound to you by something unexplainable, something that's kept him from retreating to sleep.

And It hates it.

The longer Pennywise watches, the more he wishes he didn't feel this way. But when he does try to stir up the familiar darkness within his core, it's dulled and quieted. All he knows is that his hunger has been overpowered by something else, something… protective.

And this fact is as unnatural as it is inappropriate, for no other than The Eater of Worlds.

1979 Derry, Maine

"Let's play another game..! I... There is... There's one we haven't played!"

The door creaked open and the clown stepped inside with a look you had never seen before on him. He wasn't smiling, wasn't performing... he was serious, unsettlingly so. A reminder that Pennywise wasn't -and isn't- a real clown, not in the way he pretends to be. Drool slipped from his red lips, glistening in the early morning light filtering through a crooked and badly shut window. He had probably just interrupted his breakfast -maybe to see you- and the hunger in his eyes was unmistakable.

"What kind of game?" his voice rumbled low, sending a chill across your skin. Your stomach tightened and you swallowed down the bile that rose. His piercing, yellow gaze left you feeling exposed.

You struggled to think of something, anything that could buy you more time. You had to say something, or else he would just get pissed and maybe have you for breakfast, instead of the one he was -so rudely- interrupted from.

"The first one to… If I can name one friend before you do, I get to leave. If you win… You get to do whatever you want with me." You knew you were cornered, but the words had come out anyway.

A strange look flickered across his face.

"What's your name?"

You frowned at what sounded like an absurd thing to ask out of the blue. "Y/n."

He giggled.

"Oh really?! And I'm Pennywise the Dancing Clown! Now we've both properly introduced ourselves... We can be friends!!!"

The point of the game was for you to win... but he just had to be a smartass.

"WE CAN'T- CAN'T BE FRIENDS!"

Pennywise pouted, almost like a child who's just been told no. You could see the contradiction in him as he considered your words -a clown who loves games, whose eyes practically gleam with excitement... and yet a predator who's always calculating, always one step ahead, keeping his prey exactly where he wants it. He knew you had just tried to outsmart him, yet he stepped closer, drawn in by the idea of another game. Your captor knew way more about you than you had realized -he had been watching you long before he had decided to 'kidnap' you.

Actually, your desperate answer made him leave his spot by the doorframe and advance toward you, crouching down to your eye level. You were paralyzed in fear he could probably smell. Even while holding your breath, you could feel his own on your face... It smelled like a butcher's shop.

"Don't. Shout. At. Me."

You nodded.

His drool was still glistening.

"You're not leaving either."

Another nod.

Then, he left the room.

Later, you'd realize he had let you have your way with that idiotic game purely out of boredom -a way to break up the ancient routine It'd followed since the beginning of time. But in that moment, you were just trying to survive.

What happened next is clouded in fragments, your memory blurred by fear -or maybe it's nostalgia. Somehow, over time, you became something to him. Indeed... a friend... of sorts.

As more days passed, you dared to start speaking more freely, filling the silence between you. You'd mention that you were cold, or hungry and he would tilt his head in that curious way of his. The next day, a bag of chips might appear on the bed. Once, you coughed, your throat parched. Fortunately, you managed to murmur "water". A few hours later, there it was -water in a bowl.

You found your book -Alice in Wonderland- left in a corner of the room. You read to him, each word trembling from your lips but never letting your voice falter fully. Pennywise would sit at the edge of the bed, sometimes even curling up like a cat -making you question if he had any bones-, his gaze fixed on you with an unnerving intensity. You were scared that when you finished reading the book, your life would end along with Alice's story.

But it didn't.

Still, sometimes you made desperate attempts to escape, bolting to the door. But he'd catch you with a taunting grin.

"Tag, you're it!" he'd chuckle, pinning you effortlessly. "Winner gets a prize!" he'd mock, as if the only reward he needed was to see your defeated face. But despite the mocking, the punishing appearances of the enormous cockroach stopped.

Even his gaze softened over time, slipping from the predator's yellow stare to an electric blue. The games also shifted -grew less cruel- and with them, so did he. He no longer seemed intent on hurting you and instead, observed you with a cautious neutrality.

Each day It brought you random bowls of food and water -most likely stolen from unsuspecting housewives... And sometimes, It would linger just outside the door, listening to your voice as you read to yourself.

One evening, you found yourself in the backyard, gazing up at a lilac sky. He had taken you there -unbeknownst to you- because he had brought a little snack inside and didn't want that to scare you.

You missed your old life with a pang that made your throat burn, a feeling so deep you didn't even notice him approaching. Without thinking, you pressed yourself into the clown's chest, burying your face against his ruffled collar. His strange scent -a mix of damp earth and something much older- washed over you and for the first time, you felt… safe with him.

He didn't hug you back, didn't mimic the gesture, but his voice murmured strange words about humans, their fragile nature and then the usual pet name he would call you: "little one".

It was then that you realized -he wouldn't hurt you. Not now. Not after all this time. But the realization broke something in you, a dam holding back all the emotions that had been bubbling under the surface.

"Y- You won. You won!" you stammered, choking back tears. "I'm your friend! Kill me now!"

You collapsed to your knees and he watched -bewildered- as tears streamed down your face. For a moment, he just stood there and watched you cry. Then, tentatively, he reached out in an almost inquisitive manner, to catch a tear with a long, white finger and taste it. He seemed to pause, reflecting on something only he could understand.

And then on another day, another attempt to escape. You had found a tiny window in the basement and tried to squeeze through it. But he noticed, his monstrous form scraping against the window's frame, shattering the glass in a frenzy to reach you.

When you saw the shards cutting into his skin... You froze, guilt flooding over you. You returned to his side while murmuring apologies, your hands trembling as you pulled the glass from his wounds, piece by piece.

He didn't attack you -just stared at you with a seriousness that sent chills down your spine. You knew in that moment, that you had crossed a line, that there was something between you that shouldn't have been there -because you could've left but didn't and because he could've killed you but didn't either.

When you finished pulling out the glass pieces, he was pouting at you. "Meanie..." he said and stuck his tongue out.

In the days that followed, Pennywise grew quieter. He watched you differently, as if seeing you with new eyes -ones that held a warmth you'd never expected. And in a way, it made you feel… comfortable. Comfortable enough that one day, you dared to reach out, brushing a hand along his white cheek.

He froze under your touch, as if unsure how to react -his usually fierce, yellow eyes softening to that strange blue. A low sound rumbled from him -somewhere between a purr and a growl- and he tilted his head, pressing into your hand like a cat, seeming almost… content.

But that wasn't right. He wasn't human and he definitely wasn't a pet. It was something ancient and boundless... and yet here It was, in its favorite form, accepting your touch and even starting to crave it. You pulled your hand away and his eyes opened, watching you in a way that felt unexpectedly intimate.

Time continued to flow onward.

You were now given strange meals in even stranger containers -a cracked bowl, a chipped mug, even a metal dish that you could have sworn was meant for a dog! He didn't seem to understand the details of human routines, didn't quite grasp what you needed beyond food and water. Yet he tried, even if it were in ways that felt utterly alien.

One evening, just as the sun began to dip, you asked if you could go outside again. You hadn't meant it as a real question, but in the morning, you found the door to the backyard unlocked.

You didn't dare leave the property, but you enjoyed how the air was fresh and the grass was soft and the sky a little cloudy. You stayed out until evening came.

Pennywise watched you from a distance, the colors of the twilight reflecting in his eyes, giving him an almost haunting beauty. He joined you, sitting in the overgrown grass... murmuring things in a language that sounded both ancient and musical, like whispers from an old spell.

In the quiet, you leaned against him, letting the stillness speak for you both. And though he didn't return the gesture, just like last time, he didn't pull away either. You looked up at the stars, feeling that deep ache for home... He patted your head in a comforting manner... and in that moment you could almost believe he was a friend.

You were just a kid, but even with your naivety, deep down you knew the truth -he was a monster that had killed before and would kill again. Yet for now, he seemed content with your presence, more curious than threatening. He tilted his head, watching you with softness in his gaze, as if pondering the mystery of your existence.

Somewhere in your heart, you felt the shift. Pennywise, the monster, had grown attached to you. And you… well, you couldn't deny the attachment had become mutual.

The days blurred together even more after that, filled with silly games, with quiet moments and fragments of a bond you could neither define nor understand.

And yet, even as you tried to push away the thought, you feared that someday he might wake up and no longer see you as friend, or even as a curiosity, but as something he was hungry for once more. Still, in the quiet of the night it felt like a small, tragic eternity -two beings from worlds apart, drawn together and held by something both tender and terrifying.

The last days in the house at Neibolt St were the strangest. Pennywise grew quiet, almost pensive, as if some hidden clock was winding down inside him. You noticed how his smiles and giggles were fading, as if the game he'd once delighted in was losing its thrill. Sometimes, he would simply watch you with an unreadable expression, his eyes that odd, bright blue that almost felt... sad.

You felt a pang of sympathy for him. For all his power and for all his malevolence, he was still somehow... alone. You had felt it in those strange moments when -almost wistfully- he'd listen to you talk and read.

The last night felt different, filled with an air of finality.

As you laid on your creaky bed, you noticed him standing in the corner of the room, like some sort of sleep paralysis demon. He was staring at you with an intensity that used to scare you three months ago. You felt the impulse to speak, but you knew he wouldn't respond. Instead, you held his gaze, feeling a strange sense of sorrow settle over you.

When he finally spoke, his voice was almost too soft to hear.

"Little one, when you leave…will you forget about me?"

The question caught you off guard and you didn't know how to answer. You wanted to tell him that you wouldn't, that everything you'd been through would be impossible to forget. But Pennywise knew that memories could fade, that as you grew older, the edges of this nightmare would blur.

You just stared at him, searching for the right words.

His eyes held a strange depth, a rawness you hadn't seen before. But he didn't wait for your answer. He simply turned, drifting back into the shadows as he whispered...

"The game isn't over."

And as he vanished, you were left in the cold darkness, with the silence pressing down around you like a final embrace. You clutched your knees to your chest, feeling the weight of those words settle heavily in your heart. You knew that even if you did forget him one day, some part of him would linger -an echo in the back of your mind, a memory that would never truly die.

That night, as sleep began to take you, you imagined him in the backyard... looking up at the stars and wondering if you'd remember.

It really felt like something precious had been taken away from you too early.

The next morning, you woke up in your own bed, in your home in Witchham Street.

For a moment you thought you'd died... Εveryone around you acted as though you'd never disappeared, as if those harrowing months at Neibolt hadn't happened at all. But there was one particular detail that hinted otherwise... A red balloon, floating silently at the edge of your bed.

That morning, you also got your period for the first time.

Stepping outside, the daylight was so bright and so warm, a stark contrast to the darkness you'd lived in for weeks. You squinted at the light, feeling almost as though you'd stepped into another world. It was hard to believe that just the night before, you had been in his arms -you had been seeking comfort from the monster who had held you captive.

Part of you seriously considered whether it had all been just a dream. Still, for days, you felt his absence like a missing heartbeat.

The world around you seemed much louder and the colors almost too vivid. Sometimes, you'd catch yourself looking for him in the shadows, half expecting to see his shape looming in the corners of your room.

At night you'd lie awake, thinking of his strange question...

"When you leave… will you forget me?"

You didn't know how to answer, even to yourself.

As much as you wanted to return to your old life and to move on from that nightmare, you felt a small part of you ache with the loss. You had lived through something impossible, something that had left you changed.

There was no going back to who you were before.

Over time though, the memory of him faded into something almost surreal. You didn't speak of it to anyone -the words felt fragile and sacred, as if telling the story might diminish it.

But the craziest thing that happened? You continued living as if everything was perfectly normal.

You only thought of Pennywise again that Christmas, in 1979...

The holidays had come to Derry and your family decorated the house with lights and garlands, the scents of pine and cinnamon clinging to every corner. There were gifts under the tree and snow falling outside the windows. Everything was festive and happy.

But when you woke up in your cozy little bedroom -on the 24th-, near the foot of your bed laid a single, crumpled sunflower. It must've been from the patch in the backyard where you'd sometimes sit with him, where the wildflowers had managed to grow despite the gloom. You held it gently, careful not to disturb its fragile petals. It felt like a memento of your time together -a reminder that what you had shared was real, however bizarre and terrifying.

On some nights, when the world was silent, you'd find yourself reaching for that sunflower, feeling the dried petals crumble beneath your fingertips. You'd lie awake, wondering where he was -if he still remembered, if he still waited. And though you'd never say it out loud, a small part of you hoped he did. Because no matter how much time passed, no matter how much you grew or changed, there was one truth you could never deny... He had left his mark on you, a scar that you'd carry forever.

And somewhere out there, you felt certain, Pennywise was waiting.

In the years that followed, you held onto those fleeting memories. They had a strange, magnetic pull -a mix of terror and fascination. You couldn't help but feel that if you let them slip, if you completely forgot, you'd be leaving behind a piece of yourself.

The Losers helped ground you.

They were your anchors to the present, pulling you back to laughter, to familiar faces and to the warmth of friends who shared their own scars and secrets. They never asked about the nightmares that sometimes made you stir, the shadows you occasionally saw out of the corner of your eye. And you never told them.

But there were also moments -quiet and lonely moments- when the weight of it all crept back, haunting you with unspoken questions. You'd wonder if he thought of you, if he missed you in his own twisted way. Did he ever feel the same hollow ache?

And deep down, you even wondered what might happen if he came back. Would he be nice and protecting? Or would he be just as monstrous and alien as before?

On some other nights, when the wind picked up, you swore you could feel his gaze -a distant yet familiar watchfulness that was both comforting and unnerving. It was as though he was still guarding you.

And so you moved forward, feeling the tug of those memories lessen but never fully vanish.

Would he stay away? Or would there come a day when that half-remembered monster with the childlike heart would find his way back to you?

1984 Derry, Maine

You tell yourself you hate Pennywise.

You tell yourself that, because you have to believe it is true, because that's the only way to move on. But deep inside your mind you can still feel him -his question echoing faintly in you, lesser and lesser each year, like a bond stretching thinner and thinner.

Currently, you're pondering over a glass of Cherry Coke. Yesterday, Bill had asked you about your dreams. He wanted to know if the clown that took away his little brother haunted you as well. You had simply shaken your head 'no', but the truth was the complete opposite.

Until you turned fifteen, Pennywise was still in your dreams. You remember those dreams even more vividly than your days in the house on Neibolt St...

You always had a strong imagination, which came with vivid dreams and equally vivid nightmares. In those dreams, Pennywise would come to you whenever you were scared. He'd pull you close in that tender way he never did in reality, fighting off every dark shape in your mind and then wrapping you in a kind of warmth you can't explain with words.

Sometimes, you'd apologize to him in those dreams -feeling an unnamed guilt- and he'd boop your nose with a soft and soothing "It's okie-dokie, Y/n."

Sometimes there'd be a red balloon waiting by your bed when you woke up, or maybe floating outside your school window. And on one specific evening, when the sadness felt like too much to bear, he appeared at the edge of your bed instead of the balloon. He hugged you and stayed with you until morning came, his glowing eyes softly illuminating the darkness. For once, they didn't scare you.

But as you grew up, you began to dream of him differently. In the nightmares, he'd chase you with a crooked smile and eyes that were dark with hunger, until you couldn't run anymore. Then you'd turn, tears streaming down your face, pleading with him and saying you were sorry over and over. You could never remember why you were sorry, but you knew that somewhere deep inside... you had hurt him. And somehow, you couldn't shake the feeling that it was you who'd let him down.

You tried to explain this to him, even though it was only in dreams -your Penny, who had watched over you. But he still seemed sad. So the dreams began to fade and he stopped showing himself altogether. Even then, you could still feel his presence, as if he was looking over you but choosing to stay hidden.

The few glimpses you have left are rather strange. Once, you had a dream with an uncanny intensity. It was the first different kind of dream -a dream where Pennywise was there as well, but puzzled, as you began to see him through a different lens. It left you feeling unsettled. Not sure what it meant, only that it somehow changed everything.

And still, each time you're scared, you call out for him in your dreams. You search, even while knowing he won't appear like he used to. Maybe it's because you had once blurted out that he was a killer, that he took innocent people like Georgie. It's all so blurry now, all these things you can't quite remember but can't entirely forget either.

You miss him.

You know Georgie's disappearance and so many others are somehow linked to that clown. But if his pattern is to stay on Earth for a year and hibernate for two decades (like Ben figured out), why then, hasn't he gone to sleep in five? It's almost as though he can't bring himself to leave.

Maybe you are asking too many questions. Or maybe you are starting to find the answers...

You're just a girl. And he… he's a boy in a strange, unfathomable way.

There are times when you think he's gone for good. But then there are other times -like when Oscar, the thick orange cat you've taken to caring for, curls up by you in a way that feels just a little too familiar. His stare, intense and watchful, feels more like an any ordinary cat.

You call him Oscar, but maybe -just maybe- you know it's him.

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[eddiekaspbrakirlsblog]

I just know that Richie Tozier was a WRECK on his and Eddie’s wedding day , I JUST KNOW THAT MAN WAS ABSOLUTELY LOSING IT AT THE ALTER LIKE TEARS STREAMING DOWN HIS FACE , because he was SO happy🫶🫶🫶🫶 !!! he defo woke up that day like “time to marry the loml how hard could it be?” And then absolutely sobs when he sees Eddie☹️☹️☹️☹️.