#also SORRY something fucking came over than me i got clown fever

[dissidiawol]

its not about the money its about sending a message

[leejungchans]

random juliet moments.

(a/n: this will probably be updated regularly as i think of more things to add!! i tried to organise these chronologically to the best of my ability but there may be some inconsistencies, so apologies in advance!!🤍)

started crying when she saw yunho cry at their first fansign

when hongjoong forgot to say “dul, set” and said “8 makes 1 team” alone, san and juliet coincidentally said “1 makes 1 team” to clown him and they looked at each other like 👁👄👁

when san backwashed into his bottle of cola and hongjoong unknowingly drank from it which made her go 👁👄👁 and she made san pinky-promise that he wouldn’t do that to her

when felix, chan and somi hugged her when ateez got their first win on m countdown

when she wrote another one of their iconic instagram live “please leave” signs in her pretty cursive handwriting

she really said “𝓅𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓈𝑒 𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓋𝑒 ❤️” 😭😭😭

when that one australian interviewer asked “if you don’t have any sexiness or charisma like me, what do you do then?” and she half-jokingly went “yeah, that’d be tragic”

cried at their concert in sydney and couldn’t sing for the remainder of the song they were performing because she was crying so much

said “sorry, this is his mission, i’m just here for moral support” when the employees at the pharmacy heard her speak fluent english and asked her to translate for mingi during ateez treasure film

(disclaimer: i’m pretty sure mingi mentioned in a v-live that the producers (?) of ateez treasure film told him to exaggerate the mission for entertainment purposes. so this is in no way trying to make fun of anyone’s english, and is intended to be light-hearted. as someone whose mother tongue isn’t english, and is currently learning a fourth language, i can say with full confidence that learning other languages is really, really hard and i’m so proud of the boys for their english!! in conclusion, mingi english king and mingi bestest boy!! 🥺)

climbed the sydney harbour bridge with seonghwa and mingi for the former’s mission

when they all went to juliet’s house in sydney to have dinner with her family during ateez treasure film; she also saw her cat in person for the first time in years and teared up because it had grown a lot

also cried during the confessional activity on the beach while filming ateez treasure film and clung to seonghwa and yunho for the rest of the activity

reacted to the ateez meme song with hongjoong

“ateez meh-meh song?” pls he’s so cute

*dying in the background* “MEME song” 😭

laughed for 5 minutes straight after seeing yunho in his thor costume

showed off a hydro flask that she customised during a v-live before going “sksksksksksksksk”; this moment went viral on stan twitter

eating fairy bread and toast with vegemite during a v-live

making the boys and their staff try vegemite

san: “ewwwww!”

“yAH! YOU’RE NOT SUPPOSED TO EAT A SPOONFUL! THAT’S NOT HOW YOU EAT VEGEMITE!”

almost said “fuck” once during a v-live with wooyoung and he immediately slapped a hand over her mouth

“everyone, i apologise on her behal—JULIET WAS THAT YOUR TONGUE DID YOU JUST LICK MY HAND”

after joking about choosing a leader for the ‘99 line on idol radio, the djs asked juliet what leader she was, and she teasingly replied that she was the leader of k-pop’s “aussie line”; felix later brought this up in a v-live with chan to clown her

when it was time to shoot her solo scenes for the music video for answer no one could find her and everyone panicked until they found her curled up in a corner sleeping

was close to snapping during a group v-live because of the hate comments and didn’t bother masking her irritation towards the end; jongho had to pat her head to subtly calm her; this was the first time atiny’s ever saw her angry on camera and realised how scary she could be

when a few atiny’s brought juliet flowers during a fansign which made her incredibly happy for the rest of the event, so now atiny’s bring her flowers all the time

was so focused on eating during a v-live that she was completely oblivious to some of the boys quietly watching her eat adoringly

when an atiny told her that they hadn’t eaten yet at a fansign and she asked them to pinky-promise that they would eat something after the event

almost lost her shit with san when seonghwa rapped on weekly idol

covering “someone you loved” on weekly idol which went viral

almost died laughing when they sang “wonderland” in spanish on hello82

fangirled over basically every artist during mama 2019; clips of her just having the time of her life went viral and many asked about “the girl in the boy group who was jamming out”

when san almost gave her a heart attack by spinning the gold play button; she was still very impressed

rounded up all 8 of her members to sing “thank you” to them during “thank u” at their seoul concert and make them all emotional

during the same concert, she accidentally whacked herself over the head with her mic when waving to fans and went “ ᵃ ʰ ”

she’s babie :(

randomly asked “toes for fingers or fingers for toes” during a v-live and the other members looked at her like 👁👄👁 for a good minute

got very passionate about having fingers for toes being better than having toes for fingers

“how will you even find shoes that are big enough?” “custom shoes, duh🙄”

almost died laughing during san and mingi’s round in the “scream in silence” game during their v-live

nearly lost her cool from playing the “scream in silence” game with yeosang

“yOU I D I O T”

made friendship bracelets for herself, the boys, and some of their staff members on an episode of juliet’s archive; they can all be seen wearing the bracelets frequently

when she couldn’t attach the wristband to her lightiny and asked seonghwa for help, but he couldn’t do it either so they looked at each other in exasperation for a few seconds before deciding to give up together

wore her huge platform boots in a v-live so she could be taller than hongjoong, much to his dismay

when she tried to show her boots off by lifting up her leg, she forgot she was wearing a dress; seonghwa immediately panicked and moved in front of her to shield her from the camera, not knowing she was wearing shorts underneath the dress

watching seonghwa’s birthday v-live in the corner with san

when their staff brought out a “cake” that was built from packets of timtams for her birthday v-live and it made her so happy she almost cried

reacted to hongjoong’s cover of “black or white” during a solo v-live and teared up

when an atiny asked her to help with their maths homework during a v-live and she said “uh...i’m probably the last person you’d want to ask...”

cried during an inception music show performance because she got so into the performance; it scared atiny’s until she went on v-live explaining what happened

helping yunho expose san on weekly idol

when she imitated seonghwa’s “num-num” and did the “ottoke” song on weekly idol and made everyone on and off set soft for her

when her and wooyoung both lost it when yeosang sucked on a piece of radish on weekly idol during a game

when she said “i have the only braincell in ateez” and was almost immediately clowned by atiny’s who made compilations of moments when she acted questionably

“jeez, you guys didn’t have to come for me like that”

said “wow, geography king” when yunho said “thank you, scandinavia” for his “thanxx” acoustic poem during idol live tv

during a game on idol live tv, she caught wooyoung and yeosang copying the answer to the number of days since ateez’s debut from atiny’s live comments and subsequently changed her answer, unbeknownst to them

when even san didn’t want her to eat the “detergent hwachae” he, hongjoong, yeosang and mingi made on studiok

she ate it anyways and it was instant regret

“we’re not friends anymore >:(” — to jongho on ateez fever road after hongjoong found the real key which was attached to jongho’s bag all along

was so scared when the masked man appeared during ateez fever road that she hid behind hongjoong and they freaked out together

but started laughing when the masked man “kidnapped” wooyoung

“if we let you have him you won’t come back for us, right?” “yAH! BAEK MINYOUNG!”

then did the “7 makes 1 team” chant with the others, excluding jongho and wooyoung after the former suggested “saving” wooyoung

was slouching in a chair in the background of an ateez log but immediately got up and sat upright once the cameraman came over to film her while pretending nothing happened

when one atiny showed their cat during a video call with her and she went “CAT :D”

when she went on and on about her coffee preferences and opinions during a solo vlive without realising, and wooyoung had to call her for her to realise that she had been ranting about coffee for five minutes straight 💀

when she was about to fight hongjoong for slandering mint chocolate chip ice cream

being an iconic legend when she was on the kpop daebak podcast with eric nam (and also fangirled over him)

dancing to what type of x by jessi with san and yunho during their kcontact 3 interview

“jessi-sunbaenim i love you!!”

(a/n: ajshakjska this is so long i’m so sorry 😔😔)

[scribbleb-red]

Hello Ghost (An Afternoon Andreil AU)

After college, the Minyard-Hemmicks sell up in South Carolina and Andrew is signed by the Baltimore Bombers.

He buys a house on the outskirts of Leakin Park, it's pretty grand but he has a vision of inviting his family to stay, one day, perhaps.

The house is also more than a bit run down (which is why Andrew figures it was a good price). 

He starts to fix the place up. New paint. New floors. New windows. 

But then weird stuff starts happening. 

Food he was sure was in the fridge disappears. Stationary and paints will vanish from almost under his nose. Tools go missing only to reappear somewhere else. And clothes too (he is sure he brought his favourite black hoodie with him from SC, and Aaron swears he hasn't got it...). 

He starts to hear noises - not loud, just like shuffling, sliding, sometimes like a door is creaking open.

Andrew has nearly done the ground floor when he thinks he's found the answer - navy paint paw prints - all across his freshly stripped and varnished wood floor. 

He won't lie, they're kind of cute. The creature must have knocked over the feature-wall paint.

But then, one day after practice, he comes home and takes off his headphones and he's sure he can hear humming. Whatever animal the pawprints came from, he's sure most of them won't know Bohemian Rhapsody.

He creeps up the stairs, it's pretty tatty up here still. The only room he's really bothered is his own. There are rooms he's barely opened since he arrived - particularly the one that looks like it once belonged to a kid (the yellow clown wallpaper *has* to come down soon).

The humming is coming from the main bathroom. 

His hand hovers over the handle. 

He presses down. 

The door swings open. 

 He swears he sees a flash of red. Blue eyes in the mirror. 

But when he pushes inside, nothing and no one is there. 

"The actual fuck??" he mutters.

The actual fuck is right. 

Over the next few weeks Andrew becomes increasingly paranoid. Summer has bled into autumn and he is pretty sure he's being haunted. 

There is a ghost in this house. There is a ghost in these walls.

He talks to Aaron who just shrugs and tells him to call an exterminator if he has rats in the walls. Andrew is sure there aren't rats in the walls. That's not what he's hearing. Rats don't have nice tenor voices that hum Queen and Blue Oyster Cult through the piping. 

He talks to Nicky, who freaks out because omg Andrew you have to get out before the ghosts turn violent Andrew, you don't know what kind of ghost it is Andrew, what if you piss it off by accident Andrew. Maybe you can get an exorcist Andrew. Or salt? Isn't salt bad for ghosts?

He calls Kevin, who frowns down the line. 

"Are you okay, Minyard? Not getting rattled now you're in the pros?" 

No, Andrew is not rattled. He's doing fucking great for the Bombers. 

"Then get some sleep and... maybe call Bee?"

Great so Kevin thinks he's mad.

He calls the estate agent last. Though really he should have called them first.

"There's something wrong with this house," he says. "Tell me what's wrong with this house." 

"Oh dear." The estate agent is very anxious. "I'm so sorry, Mr Minyard. I thought everyone knew."

Turns out everyone except him did know. Andrew's grand house that he got for basically pennies was once the home of the Butcher of Baltimore. Andrew missed the memo though, too busy getting his brother clean and surviving the mood-meddling, court-prescribed drugs at the time.

"I'm so very sorry," says the estate agent. "I'm afraid there's nothing we can do now, but I do know a good geomancer who could feng shui the property for you." 

 Andrew slams down the phone. 

 So he has a ghost in his house. 

 Probably a murder ghost too. 

 Fuck.

He decides that if he's going to get rid of his ghost, he's going to have to figure out what exactly the ghost is taking, when and why. He starts keeping track in a little notebook. He quickly notices something even weirder than the missing stuff though.

The ghost takes food - not a huge amount - but enough each week. It's mostly fruit and vege, the occasional protein bar. If Andrew makes smoothies from fruit, the ghost will take some. And sometimes the ghost will make smoothies itself and leave half for Andrew.

The ghost launders any of the clothes it borrows. Not everything is returned. But socks will miraculously reappear. So will tshirts and sometimes jumpers. The black hoodie has not made a reappearance. But his woollen winter jumper does, with the elbow holes freshly darned.

The ghost showers. Andrew has noticed more than once that the bathroom mirror is misted and the towels damp when they shouldn't be.

The ghost leaves red hair behind, long curls of it.

The ghost is probably not a ghost. Or if they are, they're a very very corporeal one.

He decides maybe - just maybe - he could lure the ghost out. 

After a shower one day, he writes on the misted mirror:  HELLO GHOST. 

The next day, the ghost leaves a reply: HI HUMAN. 

 Andrew frowns and scrubs the note away.

He goes out to buy clothes for the ghost - no need for them to nick his favourite stuff if they have their own right? 

He leaves the bag in the bathroom and writes: THE BAG IS FOR YOU. 

The next day he sees: THANK U. 

The day after: CAN I HV A TOOTHBRUSH? 

Andrew buys one, even though the ghost writes like a fuckboi.

When he comes home from a long weekend of away matches, the toothbrush is used and wet. There's a Smiley on the mirror in the the mist. Andrew scowls. And he realises the ghost is near - because there's a shuffle, a sigh & for a second he's sure the shadows behind him move.

Andrew and the Ghost fall into a rhythm. 

Sometimes when the ghost needs something there will be a note on the bathroom mirror. Sometimes when the ghost is thankful, they'll leave homecooked left overs in the fridge for Andrew, presumably made when he's at practice.

Aaron asks him one day if he solved his rat problem. 

"It's a ghost problem,” Andrew tells him. “But yes, something like that."

For Christmas, Andrew goes to visit Nicky and Erik in Germany. 

It's three weeks away and he's so anxious about the flights, he forgets about his little ghost in the walls. 

He packs in a hurry. He turns off the lights. Turns down the heating. Locks the doors.

The holiday itself is good. Nicky is thriving now he's back with his boyfriend and Andrew almost feels bad that he kept Nicky from being this happy for so many years. Almost. Because he wouldn't trade those years with Nicky and Aaron for anything. 

He goes home, content.

As soon as he opens the front door, he knows something is wrong. 

It's freezing cold. So cold his breath is vapours on the air. 

There's a smell too, stale and fetid. Like old fruit. 

And that's when he sees him, the ghost.

The ghost is a boy, but he certainly looks half dead. 

He's sprawled on Andrew's new sofa. He's all bones. Emaciated to a point where he looks childish. His skin is sickly pale. His hair is dank and plastered to his forehead. His eyes are closed.

Andrew drops his bag and the ghost's eyes flutter open, just a slither before closing again. 

The ghost is sick. Incredibly sick.

Andrew calls Aaron. 

"My ghost is sick," is the first thing he says. "He has a fever. I don't know what's wrong with him." 

Aaron doesn't pretend to understand, he just lists off ways to bring down a fever. "I can be there in the morning," he tells Andrew. "Just --"

-- Aaron stops short. He can't tell Andrew to keep a ghost alive can he? 

Andrew does what he can. He lifts his ghost up into his arms, wrinkling his nose at the sweaty, sick smell rolling off him. He's far too light and far too small.

Andrew tucks him into his own bed.

He finds a can of fizzy lemonade and brings it upstairs to the ghost. He's barely stirred but as Andrew cracks open the can, the ghost lets out the tiniest of whimpers and it breaks Andrew's heart.

Carefully, he nudges the ghost awake and helps him to drink some of the lemonade. 

"Bring up his sugar levels. Make sure he has plenty of fluids. Anything cold to bring down his temperature." 

It takes nearly an hour for the ghost to drink the lemonade.

Andrew doesn't sleep that night. Doesn't stop applying cold flannels. Checks his temperature every 30 minutes. 

"You better not become a real ghost, Ghost," he warns the boy in his bed. "I want my fucking hoodie back."

Aaron arrives and it’s a good thing he's just finished his rotation in the ER because Andrew's ghost is a young man with one of the worst cases of pnuemonia he's seen in a while. He calls up a professor and explains why he needs a prescription for a variety of medications.

He's able to get them within the morning and they set Andrew's room up to be a hospital bed minus the bleepity-bloopety machines. 

Andrew finally sleeps when Aaron forces him to - but only for a couple hours before he's back at the ghost's side. 

Two days go by.

Ghost wakes up. 

For all that he looks like he hasn't eaten a full meal in his life, his eyes are the most striking Andrew has ever seen in his life. They are coldest blue, like a winter's sky. 

"Hello Ghost," Andrew says. 

"Hi Human," replies the ghost.

Ghost recovers slowly. He sleeps a lot. Andrew cooks for him. Makes him eat soups and broths and slowly reintroduces solids. 

Turns out when Andrew left, he'd locked Ghost inside with only enough food in the cupboards for a week. 

Ghost managed to make it last 12 days.

But with the heating off, Ghost had shivered his way into sickness. 

Andrew asks him how the hell he's been haunting his house when he's clearly not a ghost. Ghost frowns. 

"The walls," he says. "He built the walls too thick so they could hide escape routes." 

 "The Butcher?"

Ghost nods. He's so pale. Andrew presses because he knows there's a secret here and Ghost finally admits: "He was my father." 

The pieces fall into place as Ghost recovers. His name is actually Nathaniel but every time Andrew uses it, Ghost flinches.

Andrew moves Ghost out of the walls where he used to hide and into the house. 

"Why didn't you leave after your father died?" Andrew asks one day over hot chocolate and coffee. 

They're curled up on the sofa, their feet overlapping but nothing else.

"Because he didn't die," Ghost says. "He was killed." 

And out comes the story of how Ghost lived in the house as his father's prisoner. How he was trapped and how he was punished the few times he tried to escape. 

 There are scars, Andrew has seen them. They make sense now.

"My mother escaped though. With millions that belonged to my father. A couple years ago my father killed her... my uncle came in retribution. He killed my father. I was there."  Ghost's voice is thick and raw. His eyes won't meet Andrew's. "He said he'd come back for me."

"He never came back," Andrew fills in the next line. 

"No." 

"But you stayed." 

"I've barely been outside before. I never... I had rations stored and I figured, it was safe here at least, now he was gone." 

"And then I arrived." 

"Yeah. And it was kinda nice. Being your ghost."

Andrew chest feels warm and full. "You're still my ghost," he says after a minute. 

And it's true. This boy from the walls is going to haunt Andrew forever - and he doesn't even mind.

Andrew learnt to live in increments, one breath at a time, one minute, one hour, one day. He'll teach Ghost to do the same, over years. 

They'll find a human name for Ghost. They'll settle on "Neil", a name untainted by the father who hurt him or the mother who left him.

They'll cook together in the evenings, brushing against each other in whispers.

They'll fall asleep together on sofas and then, later, in their shared bed. 

They'll move house together one day, when Andrew transfers to another team. 

One day Andrew is lying in bed next to Neil, tracing patterns over freckled skin and taut muscles. 

"I meant to ask, what was with the pawprints that time? With the paint on the floor?" 

And Neil looks puzzled, then smiles. "Maybe it really was a ghost."

THE END 

[demiromance]

“Thankful” (happy ending AU Reddiefic, Secret Santa gift!)

Hi there @pawprinterfanfic! I’m your secret santa for the @itfandompromptssecret santa gift exchange! I’m sorry its almost midnight, I was at a holiday event with my family, but I had such a wonderful time writing this for you and I hope you have an absolutely blessed holiday season! With all of my love and warm wishes, enjoy! Summary: The Thanksgiving after Pennywise finally goes to wherever evil killer clowns go, The Losers have a lot to be thankful for, Richie and Eddie most of all. (Happy ending AU where Stan went back to Derry, and because of that, they all lived.) Rating: T, because Richie has a mouth on him.

It snows on Thanksgiving in Derry. Richie Tozier forgot how much he hated that shit. He’s sulking around Mike’s (admittedly incredible and way more spacious than he’d realized at first,) apartment over the library, and he can feel two pairs of eyes on him - Eddie, from his now customary, since coming home, finally, from the hospital, place on the window seat by the round window that looked out over the town square, and Sprinkles, the cat that Richie was unsure if Beverly had actually adopted from the shelter in town for Mike, or had merely found on the street and claimed as theirs. Ben would be the first to tell you, she definitely had a way of taking in strays. 

“What exactly are you two doing to that poor thing?” Eddie calls, book long forgotten, and Sprinkles, who has made herself comfortable in his lap, makes a quiet little mrrrr noise of curiosity of her own. 

Still squinting at the cookbook open in front of him, one hand menacingly clutching an entire stick of butter that’s melting rapidly in the heat of his hands over the turkey, resting on a bed of potatoes and carrots in what he’s been told is called a ‘roasting pan.’ Richie is not, nor has he ever been a great cook, but he and Bill will be damned if they can’t figure out what Martha Stewart called the “idiot proof” turkey earlier that day on television while the others are rushing about doing the rest of the things required for the day to be perfect.  And the day would be perfect, damn it, if it was the last thing Richie did: they had so much to be thankful for. He felt the familiar flood of emotion in his chest when it hit him again, just how grateful he was. Pennywise was gone, for good, and Eddie’d lived. He thought he’d known fear before they went into that cistern, or when he saw those massive spider legs, or what he saw in the deadlights, but he had never known fear like the blur of minutes of carrying Eddie from that awful place, turned to the hours of sitting on the floor in a hospital hallway, Eddie’s blood darkening on the front of his shirt, turned to the days of waiting for him to wake up. He also thought he’d, at least at some point in his life, known happiness, and relief, but he hadn’t, until finally he was roused from sleep by the hand he’d held for so long, wishing and hoping and even praying, curling around his. 

That’d been July, it was the end of November now and everything between that was a blur. That first night, everyone slept on chairs in the hospital, but eventually bags were collected from the Townhouse and migrated to Mike’s. “No friends of mine are going to keep living in that shithole for god knows how long,” the librarian had harrumphed at them, making up his sole guest room (never used,) pulling out his couch, and sending Ben to buy air mattresses. If Richie was smuggled there, ‘home,’ to sleep in those early weeks, he doesn’t remember. He remembers being absolutely unwilling to let Eddie out of his sight, lest he disappear, lest this not actually all be real, lest this be some fever dream in the deadlights, but then eventually he remembers waking up with the golden light of a late summer sunset falling over him, bundled under a pile of blankets in that guest room, Beverly sitting next to him, watching tv.

“I need to get back to the hospital,” he’d rasped at her, reaching for his glasses.

“You need to go back to sleep,” she’d murmured, brushing his hair out of his eyes with sisterly affection.  He had.

The weather grew cold, and the leaves turned the brilliant colors of fall in Maine, something else Richie had forgotten, and forgotten that he’d loved. One day, between the hospital and home, when Stan’s wife, Patty, who he’d begun to think of as the group’s tiny little blonde guardian angel, ushered him into a Halloween store to find Eddie “something seasonal to brighten that room up!” Richie realized that…none of them had gone home.

“Wait!” he surprised Patty by how quickly he sort of…grabbed her. She responded by turning and giving him a tight hug, to which he replied, feeling like a dunce, with “Don’t you all have lives?”

She blinked up at him, “Hm?”

“You flew all the way up here the second Stan called you. Audra came out. None of you have gone home. What about your jobs? Your houses? Your lives?”

“You’re family. Eddie’s family. You all need us.”

“Yes, Patty, and we love you very much, but the logistics-”

“We all figured, we’re…established, enough,” she shrugged, “We’ve all done well, Trashmouth. We’re in a position to be here, so we are. And besides,” she giggled brightly, “Ben is loaded.”

He laughed. She laughed. They left with a stuffed monkey dressed up as a mummy. Eddie would hate it.

The week before Thanksgiving, they sprung him. Until you really got to know Eddie Kaspbrak, Richie explained, he was a charming son of a bitch and had somehow convinced the nurses that that was his true nature.

Eddie, seated on the edge of his hospital bed as Richie stooped to tie his shoes for him, groaned, “Yes, Richie. I love you, too.”

Eddie got the guest room after that, which meant that Richie, who’d insisted on an air mattress and that someone else take that bed, was back in that cozy room, and for the first time since that awful day on Neibolt Street, since the nights before, hiding, sneaking from one room to another, Richie slept with Eddie in his arms, the cold sweating of nightmares gone, beaten back by the warmth, the solidity of the other man. Eddie was there, Eddie was real, and Eddie was alive.

So yes, even as he stood there, holding a half melting stick of butter that he was pretty sure that he was about to unceremoniously shove up a turkey’s ass, Richie Tozier was grateful.

“Rich? Hellllloooooooooo. Earth to Richie,” Bill waved a hand in his face, “Psst. You in there?”

Richie shook his thoughts clear, “Yeah, uh..yeah. I’m here. Sorry. Shit. What do I do with this?” 

Bill looked back at the cookbook, then at the butter, then back to the cookbook, and sighed with relief, “Thank fuck. We rub it under the skin-”

“It puts the lotion on its skin or it gets the hose again!” Richie couldn’t help himself, voice and all. 

“Jesus Christ, Richie.”

“It’s so the turkey doesn’t get dry!” Eddie called from the window seat, “Please don’t make me get up and come over there.” 

“The turkey is not going to be dry, Eduardo!” Richie called back, and passed the now slippery stick of what surely was not butter but felt like pure grease, and was probably, in all actuality, the margarine that Eddie tried to convince them caused cancer if eaten literally ever at all, unceremoniously to a very confused Bill. “Here, you handle this, Big Bill,” he said, and wandered off to entertain Eddie and the cat before the former could offer any more unsolicited advice. Bill blinked at him, and sighed - some people never change, not even almost three decades and a murdered clown later. He was definitely going to need a drink.

+++

It was margarine and the turkey was dry (due, however, more to Bill getting a little tipsy and not setting his timer for the right amount of time after he stuffed the turkey into the apartment’s small-ish oven, than to any lack of comprehension from two grown men of at least above average intelligence but very little usable kitchen skill about what to do with butter on Thanksgiving when cooking,) but they were all too wrapped up in the warm glow of the occasion to notice once they all finally sat down to eat, Mike doing the honors of carving the bird expertly for someone who, the night before, had confessed that he not only hadn’t done a real Thanksgiving in twenty seven years but was also a vegetarian. Patty led the table in a round of applause as he took a small bow before sitting down, his grin wide and bright. 

Everyone looked expectantly to Bill, at the head of the table, always their leader, who looked, lost to his wife. Audra chuckled and gave his hand a squeeze under the table, “Should we say grace?”

“I will! I will!” Richie offered, to only mild protest, “Everybody hold hands, c’mon, pretend like we like each other, c’mon, c’mon.” The Losers, and their now honorary members, Audra and Patty, obliged, and Richie cleared his throat, bowing his head, “Dear Lord, we uh…thank you for…this day and these people and stuff and for that time that Jesus kid was…in Turkey and he…did some stuff-”

“Richie we’re Jewish why are you talking about Jesus,” Stan muttered. 

Richie, unfazed continued, “Or maybe today we just have turkey, maybe he wasn’t in turkey, wait…is that why we have turkey, is it-”

“Heeeeeeeey, I have an idea,” Ben interjected, “Instead of…whatever that was, why don’t we all just say something we’re thankful for? It’s been one hell of a year, and I have a lot I’m thankful for now.”

“Great idea!” Bev lit up, smiling up at him, “I’ll go first. This year, I’m thankful for all of you, and I’m thankful for Ben, and,” she peeked under the table at Ben’s large German Shepherd, his bowl already emptied between his paws, waiting for table scraps, “Scout down there, and Sprinkles, wherever she got to.”

“Same,” Ben seconded, “All of you and Bev and…our freedom.”

Patty raised her water glass, “I think that’s worth toasting. No more clowns!”

To the clink of glasses, they echoed, “No more clowns.” 

“I’m thankful for Mike!” Bill went next, “I mean, yes, I’m thankful for all of you. Audra, Stan, all of you, I mean that. But Mikey…dude, you st-stayed here f-f-for us. You remembered.”

“And then you took us all in!” Beverly added. Mike ducked his head, “Thank you. I’d do it again. I’m thankful you all came back.” 

“I’m thankful that Bill called me, after Mike did,” Stan said softly, “I was in a bad place and…about to do something drastic,” his voice was barely audible at the other end of the table, “And I would have never gotten to see us all this happy.”

Patty wrapped her arm around his and kissed his shoulder, “I’m thankful for that, too. And that you’ve all let me be a part of this family.”

“Same here,” Audra offered. A chorus of ‘we love you’s and ‘of course you’re part of this family’ went up to the both of them. 

“I’m thankful to be alive,” said Eddie, “I’m thankful that I get to…actually live my life now. I feel like I went from my mother to Myra and-”

“I’m thankful for divorce attornies,” Richie muttered.

“Beep beep, Richie,” Beverly muttered.

Eddie continued as though he hadn’t been interrupted, “Like, yeah, I almost died which is extremely fucking weird to say or even…think about…but…I get to live now. I’m not under mom’s thumb. I’m not under Myra’s thumb-”

“You just have me wrapped around your little finger,” Richie’s smile, for once, wasn’t wry or sardonic, but warm, and gentle and his eyes were so soft as he looked at the other man. 

Under the table, Eddie slipped his hand into Richie’s and squeezed it three times: I love you. “You love it.”

“I do.”

“And what about you, Rich?” Stan asked, beaming, “What are you thankful for? Besides Eddie’s divorce attorney, I mean.”

“A lot,” Richie was surprisingly quiet, and reverent, “Everything? All of you? That…I finally get to spend the rest of my life next to this weird little gremlin-”

“Hey-”

“Who I love more than anything in the world. Who I never stopped loving, not for a second. Who my heart always remembered.” 

Their eyes met, Eddie’s filling with tears. 

Ding, ding, ding! Patty tapped her spoon on her glass, and soon the others joined her, “Kiss! Kiss!” 

That cold, snowy Thanksgiving night, in a warm apartment in Derry, Maine, filled with love and friendship, Richie Tozier kissed Eddie Kaspbrak, and everything was absolutely golden.