#like yes me writing eddie instantly falling in love with a girl that got hit by a car and then stole a bike and fell off of it

[intergalacticaquarium]

I've always felt I was best as writing like...angsry character examinations and powerful mutual moral arcs of two characters that influence each other deeply but I think I my calling might actually be extremely goofy but not at all crack fics

[agoodgoddamnshot]

Dealing with It - Richie Tozier/Eddie Kaspbrak

How their lives became disgustingly domestic, he’ll never know. One day, both he and Richie had finally caught up to the fact that they both loved each other. And the next, they were living together in a nice, two-story house in Greenwich Village, married, with kids and a dog.

[Gif isn’t mine]

How their lives became disgustingly domestic, he’ll never know. One day, both he and Richie had finally caught up to the fact that they both loved each other. And the next, they were living together in a nice, two-story house in Greenwich Village, married, with kids and a dog.

The Village is certainly quieter than where they used to live, before the kids. After all that had happened with Derry and the fallout from it, Eddie had found himself living in Richie’s apartment.

Then they got married.

And then one of them had the idea about kids.

And then the twins swung into their lives.

It all sort of spiralled out from there, really.

Eddie has one hand of each twin in his. Richie lags behind them; Sophie curled up in one arm, while he talks to his manager on the phone. After a big lunch, he expects that all of the kids will fall into bed for naps. And he quietly hopes so. Sophie is almost there already, hiding her face into her dad’s neck to get out of the harsh summer sun.

Just over Richie’s shoulder, Eddie can see some paparazzi with cameras trailing behind. They’ve been like that for almost ten minutes now; but he can’t imagine what kind of article they’re going to get from following the Tozier-Kaspbrak family having a lunch out with their pack of kids.

It’s something Eddie has gotten progressively used to. Sometimes, on their journey to stores or cafes to meet with friends, a handful of cameras will follow them for a time; until it becomes apparent that Richie Tozier has become quite possibly the most boring man to ever exist.

Then again, adopt three kids and a dog, and yeah, any chance of getting a juicy news article written about you goes out the window.

So the ones following them now, seeing if they’re going to do anything worth picturing, they’ll leave in a couple of minutes if the trend stays the same.

Eddie looks behind him. Richie is still on the phone, nodding occasionally and offering a quiet yeah. Hiding under his chin is Sophie’s head, nose buried into his chest as her grip on his shirt starts to slacken. When he meets Eddie’s gaze, he offers a small smile. Sorry, he mouths. Followed by an exaggerated eye roll.

Eddie tries not to laugh.

Both Allie and Lucas walk contently by Eddie’s side, swinging both of his arms with each step. “Can you drive us to school tomorrow, daddy?” Allie asks, eyes cast down at her worn, converse shoes. She’s been avoiding the cracks in the pavement since leaving the restaurant; and doing a pretty good job of it.

Eddie nods. “Sure thing, princess.”

“Is Dad going away again?” Lucas asks – because once one twin starts with the questions, the other isn’t far behind.

Eddie glances over his shoulder. He bites the inside of his lip. “I don’t know, Luke.” He turns back to his son. “But if he does, we can have plenty of fun ourselves. Can’t we?”

Lucas answers with an exaggerated nod.

Allie makes a sort of distressed sound by his side. Before he can even ask what’s wrong, she’s already looking up at him with wide, blue eyes. “I stepped on a crack,” she says, glancing down at her foot. Her toes have only grazed it, but Eddie knows Allie well enough to know that even that counts as a hit.

“It’s alright,” he soothes, letting her step back on to the full concrete slab, and trying to step over the join again. When she clears it this time, she grins, but mostly to herself. Allie’s little neuroses have caught his attention in the last year and a half. Quietly watching from the ajar door of her bedroom or the kitchen table, he’s noticed them. As has Richie. But neither of them has actually commented on them.

Once Allie is back in her stride, the rest of the walk home goes well.

By the time Richie’s manager finally lets his husband go, Sophie has become a dead weight in his arm. Richie picks up a couple of strides to catch up with the rest of them.

“What did Robert want you for?” Eddie asks, already knowing the answer.

Richie huffs, switching Sophie from one arm to another. “Just to ask about something.”

“Do I know what that something is?”

“Next year’s tour,” Richie explains, peering at the girl in his arms to see how deep into sleep she’s slipped. “He’s thinking of adding more dates. Tickets for the show sold out within minutes apparently.”

If either twin is concerned with or listening to their conversation, neither makes it known. Allie still makes exaggerated steps over cracks, and Lucas keeps his hand firmly caught in Eddie’s while he takes in the passing storefronts and displays.

Eddie makes a sound. “It’s more time spent away from us,” he says quietly, looking over at his husband.

Richie holds his gaze. “I can always say no,” he offers.

Eddie shakes his head. “No, no. You love your fans. Even the ones who berate you on Twitter. Add more dates. Keep them happy.”

“You’re the best, Eddie Spaghetti,” Richie leans over children to place a quick kiss on Eddie’s cheek. A small smile curls along his lip. “And I know that it’s you leading those smear campaigns. Who else would have that much dirt on me?”

The twins are parked in front of the TV, watching the latest episode of some cartoon.

Sophie is happy enough plodding after Alfie through the house. They’ve already wandered through the upstairs rooms, before deciding that downstairs would be more exciting.

Eddie watches them pass through the kitchen. Sophie doesn’t even acknowledge his existence. “So how long would this tour be then, with the extra dates?” he throws into the kitchen.

He hears Richie sigh behind him, before the other man takes a seat beside him at the kitchen island. Richie comes armed with two glasses of wine. He places one in front of Eddie. “Two months,” he answers, looking across into the living room, where neither of the twins has moved in the last thirty minutes. Thank God for kid’s shows getting longer. Richie shrugs. “It’ll just be America, though. So you don’t have to worry about me going abroad.”

Eddie hums. He takes a measured sip of wine. Richie’s gaze is burning into the side of his face. He’s expecting more. What that more is, he isn’t sure. Does he want Eddie to flip? To cry and scream and beg for him to stay? Or does he want him to smile and laugh and say well, enjoy yourself and be genuine about it?

He knew this would be a thing. Ever since Richie started writing his own material, the audience reaction soared. Within months, Richie had this new following of people behind him. It only increased when he started mentioning his boyfriend, later husband, in his acts. Apparently having an out comedian talk shit about his partner on stage for an hour and a half was what the kids appreciate these days.

Eddie’s eyelids flicker closed at the feeling of long fingers comb through his hair. “I can say no, Eds,” Richie says quietly. “I don’t have to do it. A month is long enough. And I can be back with you and the tykes as quick as anything. I’m sure people would understand.”

Eddie could work from home. He’s done it before. Sure, the sitter still has to come and make sure that while Eddie is in his office, on a call with a client or making a new report, the kids don’t run riot. But at least he’s here, and always a scream of DADDY away.

He leans back into the touch. “Its fine, Rich. Really.” When he opens his eyes, he tries not to smile at the slightly bewildered look on his husband’s face. With Richie’s fingers scratching the base of his skull, Eddie smiles. “Go and be a Millennial Icon for two months. We’ll always be a call away.”

Richie leans forward and catches Eddie’s lips with his. It takes a minute for Richie to break away. His usual stupid, lopsided grin is plastered over his face. He opens his mouth, about to say something; but is interrupted by a loud call.

“DAD! Lucas won’t give me the remote!”

Richie’s grin disappears almost instantly. His eyes barely hold off the urge to roll.

Eddie nudges the other man’s shoulder. “You’re ‘Dad’,” he smirks, nodding to the living room. “Off you go.”

Two psychiatrists in New York have most of their shared childhood trauma sitting in their office. Eddie likes to think it’s a bit like those cardboard moving boxes. But the entirety of those poor people’s offices are stuffed full of baggage from both of them. He supposes that it’s good. While they both still go to therapy every week or so, upon the initial orders of one Beverly Marsh who swore to kill them if they kept keeping shit to themselves, life is good now. Eddie’s neuroses have been dampened slightly, but still do flair up every so often. Richie doesn’t flinch anytime someone mentions the word gay. He doesn’t rip his hand back whenever Eddie links their hands together on their walks outside. He’s fine.

That’s not to say that shadows don’t still linger. Sometimes nightmares come and poke at them, reminding them that, yes, life is good now, but don’t forget what happened—

Eddie is the one to get it tonight. When he scrambles into wakefulness, he can’t remember what actually scared him off in the first place. Their room looks out on to the main street. Orange streetlamps stationed along the street cast soft, warm light into the room, even though the curtains have been drawn. Through a small crack in the join, a beam of light reaches for the end of their bed.

He can make out everything in their room: the end of their bed and the hoard of blankets and throws kicked down there during the night, the dressers and wardrobe, and the door to their bathroom. Everything is sitting quite comfortably in their normal places. Eddie glances down. During the night, he’s managed to haul most of the blankets over to his side of the bed. Looking over at Richie, Eddie tries not to smile at the very familiar sight of his husband sleeping, long limbs splayed out in all directions.

He shuffles back, sitting against the headboard of the bed. The house is silent. Occasionally, there will be the whoosh of a car driving through the street outside. But for the most part, he finds himself sitting in silence. For the first time, he realises that it isn’t an uncomfortable silence. The back of his head hits the top of the headboard. The world is quiet, but still ticking along outside, and it’s nice.

He isn’t sure how much time actually passes. But after a while, there’s shuffling beside him. Before Eddie can even turn his head to see what’s happening, he’s ensnared by two long arms, and hauled back down on to the bed and pulled against Richie’s chest. “Why’re you awake?” he mumbles into Eddie’s neck.

Eddie shuffles slightly, letting one of Richie’s arms loop underneath his head. Using it as a pillow, Eddie’s hands curl against Richie’s chest. Faintly, he can feel it beating; a steady and firm rhythm that seems to ease Eddie’s own mind. “Don’t know,” he eventually answers.

Richie hums, and within seconds, is asleep again.  

The morning Richie has to leave for his tour goes as well as Eddie expected.

His first show is in L.A, and his flight leaves in five hours. Eddie’s already awake, because Richie certainly isn’t. Breakfast cooks steadily on the burners; eggs and bacon, with bread toasting nearby. Eddie hopes that maybe the smell of the food will be enough to stir Richie awake. If not, he’s going to have to go and haul his ass out of bed. Again.

Two suitcases sit at the foot of the staircase, with a small rucksack perched on top of one of them: all packed by Eddie, because watching Richie stand in front of their shared wardrobe, wondering how many pairs of jeans he would actually need for two months of travelling just was too much stress to handle.

Eddie keeps a rubber spatula cutting through the eggs. They won’t take long to cook, and hopefully, Richie will actually get himself to the kitchen before it starts to get cold.

Even though the sun is only starting to peer over the roofs of neighbouring houses, and the sky hasn’t even turned shades of light blue yet, Sophie stumbles into the kitchen, rubbing her eyes. “Has Dada gone?” she asks in a cracked, not fully awake, voice.

Eddie takes the pan off of the burner. “Not yet, pumpkin,” he says, turning to watch the toddler wander aimlessly over to him. Ensnared in one arm is her teddy bear – a birthday gift from Uncle Ben and Aunty Bevvy. He runs his fingers through the tangled mop of straw-coloured hair on top of Sophie’s head. He offers her a small smile. “But breakfast is nearly ready, and I need him to get up before it goes cold. Could you get him for me?”

Almost instantly, all traces of sleep vanish from the little girl as she turns on her heel and scrambles upstairs.

The twins said their goodbyes last night after dinner. Sophie’s bedtime is before there’s, and while Eddie was carrying a tired Sophie up to bed, he watched as both twins huddle into Richie’s side, effectively pinning him to the sofa. It’s never easy on any of them when Richie leaves, but the twins are at an age now where they understand; Dad will come home eventually, and he’ll stay at home for months on end to make up for being away.  

But Sophie is still so young, and sometimes she doesn’t understand. It’s one of the reasons why Richie started leaving early in the morning; if the kids are still asleep, he can slip out without causing too much hassle. But maybe Sophie will appreciate seeing her dad off.

Eddie grabs a couple of plates, putting them beside the stovetop. He’s about to serve up portions of eggs and bacon when he hears a shrill scream. Shoving the pans off of the burners, Eddie turns and races for the stairs. His heart hammers inside his chest, battering his ribcage, wanting to burst through.

His heart only starts to settle when he realises that the scream has turned into high-pitched giggling. In the middle of the landing, near the twin’s bedroom door, Richie is in the middle of flinging Sophie over his shoulder. Holding firmly on to her legs, her entire head and torso have flopped over and rest against Richie’s back.

“What are you doing?” Eddie hisses, looking quickly over to the nearest bedroom door.  “You’ll wake the twins!”

Richie doesn’t stop. If anything, and to Eddie’s annoyance, he starts swaying side to side. “Sorry babe, but I was attacked by a three-foot-tall monster this morning,” Richie turns around, swinging Sophie with the movement. Eddie’s breath catches in his throat; even though Sophie is in no danger of falling, or whacking her head into the wall.  “And I’m just trying to find where it’s gone. I swear, it was right here a few seconds ago.”

“I’m here!” Sophie giggles, her hands then slapping over her mouth as another shrill shriek leaves her when Richie turns back around.

Eddie makes a sound in the back of his throat. “Richie, the twins-”

“-Can sleep through natural disasters.” Richie nods to the bedroom door. Truthfully, Eddie doesn’t hear either of them walking around inside. And if Richie had been playing with Sophie for this long, and neither twin had already come outside to see what was going on, he’s going to assume that they are probably still asleep.

Eventually, Richie hauls Sophie back over his shoulder and into his arms. “Never bounce on me like that again, young lady,” he says with the up-most serious of voices he can manage: one not entirely helped by the put-on frown he’s wearing.

And Sophie, quite rightly, sees right through it. “Daddy told me to wake you up because breakfast was ready,” she smiles, hiding her face into Richie’s neck.

Richie’s eyebrows lift almost to his hairline. “Oh, so it’s daddy who ordered this attack?”

Eddie rolls his eyes and turns back to the stairs. “Breakfast is ready.”

They eventually follow Eddie down the stairs. He watches Sophie stay curled up in one of Richie’s arms, pointing at the skillets, mumbling that she wants some eggs and bacon too. Eddie helps bring over the plates, because it becomes painfully obvious that Sophie’s arms aren’t going to release him for a bit.

“Don’t go,” a small voice whines into Richie’s neck.

“I’ll be home before you know it. And you can call me whenever you want, princess,” he soothes, setting her down at the table. He pushes her plate in front of her. “But I need you to promise me something.”

Sophie’s eyes are already starting to turn red. Eddie stabs a bit of scrambled egg with his fork. He’s going to have quite an eventful morning trying to consolidate the youngest of their kids, assuring her that yeah, Dad will eventually come home.

Sophie sniffs, rubbing her eyes. “What?”

“Daddy might need help with stuff in the house,” Richie explains, taking a seat beside Sophie. “And he might need help looking after the twins. So I need you to help him, okay?”

All at once, Sophie’s face lights up. “Am I in charge?”

Eddie almost chokes on his eggs. “He didn’t say that, baby-”

“-Absolutely,” Richie smirks, ruffling Sophie’s already messy hair. He throws Eddie a smile before starting his own breakfast.

Sophie only cries a little bit when Richie leaves, and God does Eddie want to too, but as soon as his manager’s car has turned the corner of their street, and Richie is now gone for two months, Sophie marches upstairs to wake the twins. Because she’s in charge.

ORIGINALLY POSTED ON AO3

[sweetlysilent]

Figment (Ch. Three)

Requested By: Nobody

Pairing: Richie Tozier x Reader

Warnings: Traumatic Memories, Fear, Swearing, Symptoms of Anxiety, Mention of Pennywise, etc.

Summary:

When is a door not a door? Most people tend to always overthink the question, over processing what the answer could be, when in reality it’s right in front of your face. When it’s ajar. This is a riddle that is constantly in the back of your mind.

Just like your greatest fear, it lurks between the space of the door, showing it’s form like a shadow, always creeping behind you. But you convince yourself it’s just a figment of your imagination, that it’s all in your head, that you’re just seeing things. But, what happens when the Loser’s Club end up seeing it too?

A/N: So, I don’t know how many people enjoy this lil blurb mini series but I really like it so I’m going to continue writing it bc it makes me happy. If you like it too then by all means go ahead and read it and if you don’t then don’t read it :)) I post other content too.

PSA: Since I’m still having issues with saving/editing text posts I’m unable to update my Masterlist, therefore, if you want to keep up with my more recent writings I will be tagging my fics with ’#masterlist’ so if you want to find them you’ll be able to. If you’re on mobile you can go up to the little search icon in the right hand corner and simply search ‘masterlist’ and my fics (and my masterlist) will show up!

This isn’t exactly based off the movie or the book, I’m just kind of free handing it and I might use bits and pieces from the movie, but besides that I’m basically just flowing with it. Another thing, feel free to send a comment in my ask or below on what you thought of this part! I’d love to see everyone’s reactions, it helps keep me motivated.

Also, comment below or send me an ask if you’d like to be tagged!

“Hi honey, how’d you sleep last night?” Your mother spoke softly, glancing over at you as you stared at the table in front of you while you waited for your breakfast.

“It was.. Okay.” You spoke quietly, shifting slightly in your chair at the thought of your nightmare.

“You’re a waste of space Y/N.” Stan would spit at you.

“We only let you join our club because we felt sorry for you.” Eddie would chime in.

“Nobody even likes you.” Bill added on, not stuttering once.

“You’re nothing.” Richie spoke last, breaking your heart.

“Mom, I should get going, I’m going to be late to school.” You quickly spoke up, snapping out of your thoughts, grabbing a piece of toast and an apple before heading towards the door.

“Y/N! Wait! Don’t forget your anxiety medication! Dr. Martin told me you should take two pills each day so you’ll be more relaxed!” Your mother called down the hallway, making you sigh and stop, grabbing the orange bottle off the counter before leaving your house.

Could life get any worse?

You then spent a good twenty minutes walking to the school, you ate your toast first, and then your apple along the way, finishing it once you arrived at the school.

You threw the rest of the apple into the trash, before entering the building, you were early, earlier than most students got to the school, but you couldn’t stand being at home any longer with your mother constantly on your back about how you were doing.

As much as you loved her and how much she cared about you, you could only handle so much smothering.

You then made your way to the cafeteria to grab a plastic cup, before heading to the girls bathroom where you could secretly take your medication.

You walked inside, expecting it to be empty, but you were wrong, so, so, wrong.

“Y/N! Just who I was hoping to see, you got a minute to talk?” Beverly smiled, her arms crossed as she stood in front of you.

“I- Uhm- I have to.. Uh.. Go..” You stammered, before turning around quickly, rushing out of the bathroom, only to be met by the rest of the Loser’s Club.

“Hey Y/N, in a rush to go somewhere?” Stan questioned, raising an eyebrow at you as you shifted uncomfortably under everyone’s stare.

“Actually, yeah I do, so..” You trailed off, avoiding eye contact as you tried shoving your way through them, which wasn’t an easy task.

You managed to wiggle your way through them though, before sprinting down the hallway, their footsteps hitting the floor loudly behind you as they chased after you.

“Y/N you can’t avoid us forever!”

“We know you’re hiding something!”

“You’re not leaving till you tell us!”

“Alright split up! Don’t let Y/N get away!”

Your heart was beating rapidly, this couldn’t be happening, not now, you had yet to take your medication, thus making the situation ten times worse than what it could be.

And yet, you were still running, turning down different hallways, trying to find a place to hide, but each turn you made you ran into one of them.

“Y/N there’s no way out of this! Stop running!” You heard one of them shout as you rounded a corner, before hiding in a classroom.

You were breathing heavy as you maneuvered through the desks, hoping to hide behind something so they couldn’t find you.

“Shit! Where did Y/N go?” You heard someone shout, which you soon figured out was Richie, him and his trashmouth.

“They couldn’t have gone far, we were on almost every hallway, they must have gone into a classroom.” You heard another one of them say, which turned out to be Eddie.

You then heard the doorknob to the classroom door open, the creaking of the door sending chills up your spine.

You shut your eyes tightly, hiding behind one of the desks, praying they wouldn’t see you, but when were you ever that lucky?

You heard someone clear their throat, making your crack one of your eyes open, only to see the entire Loser’s Club once again before you.

“You aren’t getting away this time, so you better start talking.” Beverly spoke up, her arms crossed as she watched Bill and Ben help you off the ground.

You rolled your eyes, refusing to speak as you sat on a desk, your feet dangling.

“Shit Y/N, just tell us what the fuck is going on.” Richie blurted out, annoyance in his voice.

“Nothing is going on.” You mumbled, messing with the plastic cup in your hands.

“B-Bu-Bullshit.” Bill stuttered out, his brows furrowed at you.

“If nothing was going on, why did you run?” Ben questioned, watching you curiously as you ignored his question.

“Why do you have a plastic cup?” Mike looked at you, his brows also furrowed as he tried to figure you out.

“I needed it. Not that you needed to know that.” You replied, sending a small glare towards them before taking a deep breath.

“Can I go?” You sighed, your body growing tired, as you looked at them with a bored expression.

“No.” Stan simply stated, giving you a stern look.

The room went silent for a few minutes, before you noticed Richie’s eyes dart over to your backpack.

“What is that orange bottle in your backpack?” Richie pointed out, making your eyes widen slightly.

“Nothing! Nothing.” You replied all too quickly, earning suspicious glances from the group, as Eddie lunged for the bottle.

“No! Give it back!” You shouted, trying to grab the bottle back, but Richie and Stan held your arms.

“What the fuck? Since when did you take anxiety medication?” Eddie read the label, before looking at you.

“I just got prescribed it.” You sighed, yanking your arms free of Richie and Stan before retrieving your bottle.

“Why do you need anxiety medication?” Beverly questioned, a sad expression on her face, something you hated receiving.

It was the pity look.

The look your mother always gave you.

“The same reason I need sleeping pills now.” You muttered, grabbing your cup as you filled it up with some water from the sink in the classroom, finally taking your medication.

“You need sleeping pills?” Richie repeated you, making you roll your eyes in annoyance.

“Yeah, my therapist told me I needed them, and that I needed to talk to you guys.” You shrugged your shoulders, waving your hands around.

“You’re seeing a therapist?” Richie repeated once again, louder this time, making something snap within you.

“Yes, Richie! A therapist! Because all I ever see is this fucking clown with a red balloon along with this little boy in a yellow raincoat whose name is Georgie by the way, but isn’t really who he says he is because he turned into this fucking creature!” You shouted, breathing heavy as your eyes watered, your hands shaking as you grabbed fistfuls of your hair.

You sounded crazy. You felt crazy.

Everyone was silent, so silent you could hear a pin drop.

“Y-You s-s-saw G-Georgie?” Bill whispered, his own eyes starting to water as he stepped closer to you.

“Do you know who he is?” You whispered, looking at Bill, your eyes widening slightly, someone else saw him too, it wasn’t just you.

“H-He’s m-m-my little bro-brother.” Bill choked out, making your expression drop instantly, your mouth opening and closing, unable to form words.

“Georgie went missing about a week ago.” Eddie whispered, giving you a sad look, but all you could focus on was Bill.

His brother was dead.

“Bill.. I-I.. I am so.. so sorry..” You whispered, a tear slipping down your cheek.

“N-No don’t s-say that! He isn’t.. H-He isn’t d-dead! Georgie isn’t d-d-dead!” Bill shouted, his own tears falling down his face.

You looked at the rest of the group, their faces full of sorrow, they knew that Georgie was dead, they knew from the moment he was taken and was never found, but Bill, Bill had hope, he had hope he was still alive.

The room soon filled with the sounds of Bill’s uncontrollable sobs, a sight that broke everyone’s heart, he just wanted his brother back.

Beverly ended up pulling Bill into a comforting hug with Stan and Eddie, trying to comfort his broken heart once again, while Richie walked over to you quietly.

Something you’d never seen before, Richie Tozier, the trashmouth, quiet.

You thought for a minute he would break character and make a stupid joke, but he didn’t, instead, he wrapped his arms around you, still not saying a word, instead he just waited until he felt your arms wrap around him.

You felt your body calm slightly, just before your own tears started to flow, your body once again shaking from your sobs, but Richie never let go, he just held you.

That day in the empty classroom was the day the Loser’s Club found out your secrets, the day you exploited your crazy sightings of a clown, a red balloon, and Georgie.

But now a lingering question hung over the Loser’s Club, did they believe you, or did they too think it was just a figment of your imagination?

 Tags: @the-crime-fighting-spider @f-b-a-w-t-f-t-2 @mishamgos @winter-fire-and-january-embers @hey-its-bean @theotherschuyler @o-starshine

[beepbeeprichiellc]

for that big list of aus do you think you could combine 10.iv and 10.v with reddie ???? with Eddie being the one obsessed with Christmas and snow bc it just sounds adorable okay and your writing is amazing

You are too kind. This ended up really long, my bad.

Richie watched the snow fall from his seat, the white clumpsgathering at the base of the window before flying off back into the abyss. Asmile curled at the corner of his lips, he loved snow, probably more than anyof his friends. It had a purity to it, a sense that their sins would wash awaywith the new blanket of fluff. He preferred it around Christmas, but he wouldsettle for its early arrival.

“Okay you got Bill’s new roommate’s name down right? Youaren’t going to embarrass me right?” Stan asked flatly from beside him. Anyonewho gave him a second look would think that the boy was 60 rather than 23. He worepressed pants, a cardigan, and carried a sense of arrogance that only peoplewith years of experience in life have. Not to mention his granny reading glassesand Sunday newspaper that he insisted on bringing along with them for theirtrip. They were complete opposites. Richie had more of a punk rock vibe,choosing torn jeans over pressed ones and a leather jacket over a cardigan anyday.How they ended up best friends was beyond them.

“Yeah, yeah. Eddie. I got it the first time you told me.” Hereplied, huffing in annoyance. “Doesn’t he have his own family to be with forThanksgiving? That place is already going to be crowded with Mike’s new girl coming.”

Stan rolled his eyes, “Don’t be bitter just because you haveto sleep on the floor.”

“Well not everyone can sleep in Bill’s bed.” He retortedplayfully, enjoying the bush that crept up Stan’s neck. “I mean I could, butyou know I’m a vivid dreamer. I’d hate to play out my wet dreams with the twoof you and-“

“Beep beep Richie.” He jeered just as their stop wasannounced.

The two exited, heading out of the terminal and out into thebusy streets of New York. “So have you ever even met this guy?” Richie asked,following close to on his friends heels. “Is he a weirdo like Bill’s last roommate,or like a creep like his roommate before that?”

“Bill says he’s normal. A little pristine but normal.” Stanshrugged, pulling his coat tighter against him as the snow became heavier inthe air. “He’s a nurse at the hospital, real smart and real clean.”

“Sounds like I’m gonna hate him.”

“Wow you just have the most faith in people don’t you?” Hebit, the townhouse coming into view. “You don’t have to like him Rich, you justhave to deal with him okay? Just for this holiday and then Christmas is at Beverly’s.”

Richie blew a raspberry as his response, to which Stanmerely ignored. They took to the steps of the home, knocking at the door. “I’mtelling you Richie, if you ruin this I will kick you out of our apartment. Justbehave.”

There wasn’t enough time to respond because that second thedoor opened, reviling a very done up Beverly. She let out a squeal, embracingStan. “Oh finally, you were the last to arrive! Did you have a nice tripupstate?”

“Fine.” Stan lied, moving past her and into the home.

“Damn Bev, eat my heart out.” Richie cooed, pulling the fieryhaired woman into his arms.

“Don’t let Ben hear you. I’m spoken for now.” She repliedsweetly, holding out her left hand. “He’s going to make an honest woman of meafter all.”

“God damn look at that rock!” He cooed, pulling her hand toget a closer look. “Shit, I’ll let him fuck me if he gets me one of those!” Beverlypushed him playfully, shaking her head in annoyance.

Once Richie entered the home, the smell of turkey andstuffing wafted back into him. His stomach responded by growling eagerly. He wasnext met with Ben, who hugged him briefly but sternly, followed by Mike and hisnew girlfriend who he learned was named Maggie and who embraced him regardlessof just meeting him. Richie felt his heart swell at the sight of them all, thankfulthat he had his own little family this time of the year.

“Where’s Bill? I gotta tell him that that food smellsamazing.”

“Oh he’s in the kitchen with Eddie.” Mike replied, gesturingto the door. Richie grimaced at the statement, picturing an extremely primpedand uptight man helping his brother with their dinner. He nodded, trudging throughthe door.  

He entered the room with a bang, the door slamming againstthe counters loudly. “Honey, I’m home!” Richie bellowed obnoxiously.

Bill looked up from the oven, smiling widely. “RichieTozier, as I live and breathe.” He cooed, dropping his spoon and pulling hisfriend into a sincere hug, “I feel like I haven’t seen you in a fucking year.”

“Just about.” He replied, looking over to the beautifularray of the food. “Since when did you become a chef? Last time you were incharge of dinner, you burnt the pizza.”

“Actually Eddie cooked.”

“You helped.” A voice replied from behind the door to thefridge. As the barrier was shut, Richie could feel his breath hitch in the backof his throat. The man, who he thought he would hate, was no older than him. Hewas short in stature, standing only to Richie���s chest. The pink polo he worewas partially covered by his apron, which looked well used. Bill was right indescribing him as pristine, but also horribly incorrect. Inside of him wasn’tan old soul like Stan, but rather a bright and beautiful one, one that wouldburn Richie to the core.

Eddie smiled, causing Richie’s knees to become weak. “I don’tthink we’ve met.” The small adult muttered, extending his hand. “You must be Richie.”

“Yes sir.” He managed in response, taking the petite hand intohis. God, he was soft. “You’re Eddie yeah?”

“That’s me.” Eddie jeered. “The party crasher.”

“Stop calling yourself that.” Bill interjected as they droppedtheir hands, making Richie instantly feel bare. “I invited you to this, therewasn’t any way you could go back home this year, not after what happened.”

“What happened?” Richie asked.

Eddie cringed, recovering quickly with a fake smile. “Nothingto worry about right now.” He replied softly. “Dinner is almost done. Do youmind telling the others?” Richie nodded, looking to Bill who only wore a sadface. As he left he could hear their hushed voices and although he could notmake out what was said he was sure that Eddie was scorning his roommate for theslip.

The food was absolutely fabulous.

Every single item was made to perfection, and the Losers atethe entire thing up. As they sat around the table lazily, conversation seemedto center around the surprising snow fall. Richie felt his stomach flip in excitement.His head perked up, smiling at his friends he blurted. “Okay, who is going togo out and look at the snow with me?”

Everyone groaned at once, all muttering smoothing profoundunder their breath. Maggie looked like she was going to raise her hand but Mikesnatched her wrist, shaking his head vigorously. “I’ll go.” A small voice fromthe opposite end of the table said.

“Uh Eddie, I don’t think you want to do that.” Ben warned, “Richieis a bit intense.”

“I’ll be fine. I love the snow.”

Richie barged outside with the small boy in tow, kicking upthe snow that had freshly fallen on their steps. He beamed as he watched Bill’sroommate follow him, his pea-coat nearly swallowing him whole. Eddie smiled,taking two steps at a time until his feet were firmly planted on the asphalt. “So.”He sang, raising an eyebrow at Richie. “Is there a specific reason your friendsdidn’t want to join you?”

“Maybe…” Richie replied sly, watching the other kid wanderaround the sidewalk. “Maybe not…”

Eddie hummed, rolling eyes and looking up towards the sky.Richie took his opening, shoving a handful of snow down the back of his coat.Eddie squealed in surprise, jumping in circles and cursing his name. Richiecouldn’t help but laugh.

“I’m the snow king Eds. That’s why no one-“He was cut shortby a snow ball that hit him squarely in the chest, sending shards of ice intohis mouth. “What in the hell!” he sputtered, tasting the lingering New Yorkflavor.

“You’re a shitty king.” Eddie retorted, throwing another ball,only this time missing by a few inches.

“Oh you’re dead.”

Bill and the others watched in horror as the two returned completelydrenched from head to toe. They were rushed off to shower and change with stupidlybig grins plastered on their faces. Richie refused to admit that he had losthis crown.

After that the night progressed quickly, becoming one bigblur of laughter and tomfoolery. It was like Eddie had been the missing pieceof their group, his smart mind keeping Stan and Ben entertained, his work andtravel interesting Mike and his quick mouth keeping Richie in line. No matterwho he spoke with, in a matter of mere minutes they were swooned, drawn in byhis charisma and kindness.

Two by two, the couples left for bed, leaving Richie andEddie. Conversation began to lag, an uncomfortable silence lingering betweenthen. Richie wasn’t typically the edgy type, hell he could make a politiciansmile, but there was something about Eddie that made him nervous. Almostscared. He didn’t want to say the wrong thing or make him uncomfortable in anyway so he opted for nothing. Which in retrospect probably wasn’t the best idea.

“Oh!” Eddie exclaimed after nearly thirty minutes ofsilence. “I almost forgot!”

Richie watched the small figure jump from the couch and bolttowards the hallway closet. There was a commotion and a few slurs buteventually he emerged with a tote that was almost as large as he was. Eddiesmirked up at him, popping open the lid and expelling the contents.

“What the actual fuck?” Richie griped, watching none otherthan Christmas directions spill at his feet. “You have got to be kidding me.”

“Nope.” He replied with a pop of his p. Quickly he began togather his things, an excitable giggle following him as he went.

“It’s literally still Thanksgiving.”

“So?”

“So? It’s fucking November and-no, not the tree. Put thatback.”

Eddie ignored him, setting up the base by the staircase. Heskipped with enthusiasm, disregarding the looks that Richie gave him. It wasalmost too cute, his tiny hands working poorly with the twisted lights, hishappy hum causing Richie to just stare in awe.

How had he gone his entire life not knowing this kid? Whatwas this feeling burning in his chest and what in the hell was he doing startingin the middle of the bundle?

“Oh my god, you’re doing it all wrong!” Richie muttered,grabbing the tangled mess from Eddie. “Let me just do it.”

“Thanks.” He whispered, his cheeks blushing a beautiful pinktint.

“Yeah yeah.” Riche replied, his voice lacking bite.

“I owe ya one.” Eddie poked, moving to the tote and pullingout more decorations.

Richie could feel the question on his tongue, he bit downhard trying to kill it but somehow it managed to slip past him. “So uh, whydidn’t you just go home for Thanksgiving?”

He could see Eddie tense up at the question, making Richieregret even speaking. Surprisingly he relaxed, wrapping the long tinsel aroundhis neck and filling his tiny hands with ornaments. “I had it out with mymother recently, we got into a huge fight and she told me not to come home forthe holidays.”

“Oh.” Richie choked, watching Eddie shrug. “What was it all about?”

“She doesn’t want a faggot for a son.” He replied easily,before Richie had a chance to reply he turned towards him, smiling. “Do youthink I should hang mistletoe?”

“Hell yeah.”

[dazingsky]

Hinting (Reddie)

HELLO I’VE BEEN SUPER BUSY BUT HERE I AMMMM

summary: Hi can I get a richie x reader request? Where she's new and richie see her and is like damn and it turns out she is pretty much richie. This leads to clapback wars and the Losers constantly tease richie about his crush. One day the bickering becomes so much one of the Losers blurts out their feelings. Blushy adorableness ensues.

I CHANGED IT TO REDDIE, I COULDNT NOT IM SORRY HDHSBSJD

Anyway, word count: 1,783

Please leave me requests and enjoy this!

Richie Tozier’s friend group wasn’t exactly large. But it wasn’t exactly small. It was the perfect size. And Richie loved his friends. More than anything, each in their own way.

Richie loved Ben because he had a way of being happy no matter what. He always seemed in the mood to cheer up Richie. Ben wrote poetry, and shared his poems with the group. He talked about his old town, and complained about how he hadn’t moved to Derry quicker, and met the Losers.

Richie loved Beverly because she was always willing to smoke with Richie. Of course he loved her for other reasons, but that was a big up. Beverly was good with secrets as well though. Beverly was the first person Richie told when he realised he liked girls and boys. Beverly had laughed, and said “same”, whilst grinning at Richie. Richie loved her for not treating him differently, although none of the other boys judged him either.

Richie loved Mike because Mike was always cracking subtle jokes. He was good for a laugh. But he could also be ridiculously serious, at any time. Mike also knew a lot about food. He cooked for the group a lot, especially around the holidays. Full course meals. And deserts. It was amazing. It was heavenly food. Richie thought he could be a chef with the amount of knowledge of food, although Mike wanted to be a vet.

Richie loved Bill because he was outgoing, even though he had a stutter. Bill was also very good at art, and writing. He often wrote stories about the group, and painted pictures for each of the member of the group. And Bill was easy to talk to. About anything. Like Beverly.

And Richie loved Stan. Stan was Richie’s favourite member of the group. He was stern, and intelligent, and always managed to make Richie laugh. He made profoundly subtle jokes, which always managed to crack Richie up. Richie and Stanley had been friends forever, basically. And that’s why Richie trusted him enough with his ‘personal’ information.

He shouldn't have.

He had sat down, in Stan’s living room, beside Stan, and began the confession. “You know that new kid, in our year, Eddie?” Stanley had nodded slowly, not fully paying attention. The tv was playing cartoons, which were much more interesting to Stanley than most of what Richie had to say. “I think I like him..” Richie blurted.

This caught Stan’s attention. He turned to look at Richie, trying to remember everything about Eddie, so he could tease Richie. “You like the kid who wear’s pale pink jumpers, and carries around strawberry scented hand sanitiser?” Stan asked, a small smirk forming on his face, as he took in Richie’s appearance. A pink floyd tank top, black skinny jeans, a black hoodie, and a pair of black doc martins. And his black hair was a mess. “You.”

“Shut up.” Richie snapped, feeling a blush form on his face. Stanley smirked, a smug look on his face. “I don’t know what it is about him, but he’s just cute. And I don't know.” Richie sighed, rolling his eyes at Stanley.

“That’s cute Rich, a bit strange, but cute nonetheless.” Stanley laughed, as Richie hit his arm. “You have to admit, it’s kinda weird though. You guys are, like, polar opposites! Plus I’ve known you basically your entire life, and in your entire 16 years you’ve never liked anyone.” Richie shrugged, feeling embarrassed. He didn’t like talking about his personal feeling with Stan. Or anyone, for that matter. But he felt like he needed to tell someone. And Stan was the person he had chosen. Although now he was regretting it. “It’s no big deal, he probably isn't gay.”

“He’s completely gay. Through and through. One hundred percent.” Richie rose an eyebrow at Stan, causing the boy to shrug. “Have you seen him? He’s definitely gay.” Stanley laughed, again. “Do the others know?”

“No you’re the only person I’ve told.” Stan nodded slowly, thinking for a second.

“We should invite him to Bill’s on Saturday.” Stan suggested. “It’d be fun. Plus you don’t even have to invite him, if you feel nervous, I will! It’ll work like a charm!” Richie nodded slowly, although he had no idea what he had gotten himself into.

When Saturday rolled around, Richie was terrified. Stan had asked the other losers if it was okay for Eddie to come, and by the way Stan not so subtly hinted, they had all said yes so they could see Richie’s reactions throughout the evening. Friday afternoon, after biology, Stan had walked with Eddie and mentioned the movie day that Bill was hosting the following day. Eddie had agreed to come, almost immediately, and had grinned at Stan.

“He seems like a really nice guy.” Stan had said, in a bored tone, as he read through a magazine that had been lying on Bill’s coffee table. Stan had made himself at home in Bill’s house, almost as soon as soon as he’d walked in. Stan and Bill were very close though. Probably because they’re secretly in love.

“He is. He’s in my Math’s class, and he’s incredibly polite to the teachers.” Ben said, from his place on the floor. Richie turned to look at him, nodding slowly. “Exact opposite of you, Richie.” Ben teased.

Richie mumbled a quiet ‘shut up, Ben,’ and continued pacing. He had been doing that since he arrived at Bill’s a half hour ago. Bill had requested he stopped pacing around 5 times, but Richie continued.

“It’s so cute to see Richie this nervous!” Bev laughed, placing a hand on Richie’s shoulder, and turning him to face her. “Calm down. He’s just coming over to hang out.”

“What if he hates me?!” Richie was practically shaking. And then the doorbell rang. “Fuck.” Richie shrieked, as Beverly pushed him towards the door. Richie was shaking even ore now, nerves ripping through his body. He bit his lip, harshly, reaching his shaking hand out to grab the door handle.

Richie swiftly swung the door open, and came face to face with Eddie Kasobrak. Eddie looked straight back at Richie, opening his mouth slowly. “Is this Bill’s house?” Richie nodded quickly, in response to Eddie’s question.

“Come in!” Richie said quickly, stepping back to let the smaller boy into the house. Eddie walked inside slowly, looking around. Every one of the losers were stood at the entrance to Bill’s living room, watching the boys, intently.

Eddie looked over at the group assembled, in the door frame. “Hi.” He muttered, quietly. Everyone seemed to fall back into their normal selves, instead of staring at the boys. Beverly came over, greeting Eddie, which allowed Richie to slip away unnoticed.

“You need to calm down.” Stanley hissed at Richie, shaking his head. “Get yourself under control.”

Richie eventually did calm down. He went back to being his usual self. He sat on the floor, during the first movie, and made his usual crude remarks abut different things. Everything seemed to be going okay, until the losers began making jokes.

They were watching the main character from the film confess his love to the other main character. He had everything planned. He was going to sit the girl down, and say he couldn't live without her. There was a laugh from one of the couches, and then there were whispers throughout the group. Until, finally, a hand landed on Richie’s shoulder, and a daring Mike leaned down, laughing “Man, thats just like you” in Richie’s ear. Richie rolled his eyes, attempting to ignore Mike, but these jokes continued.

At first they were sightly subtle, but they continued to get more out there, until Ben casually said, “I think Richie should just tell him.” Richie immediately felt the flush crawl up his neck, continuing until it hit his face. Richie looked at Eddie from the side of his eye, watching as Eddie looked at the others on the couch, biting his lip. He knew. Those fuckers had basically just outed me, completely, to the boy who had only been sat with us for an hour. Richie thought. He instantly stood up, almost falling over his damn feet, and quickly made his way over to Bill’s front door. “I need some air.” He lied, and slammed the door shut after him.

He sat down, on Bill’s porch steps, and stared ahead of him. Any chances he had with Eddie had been flung out the window, because of Ben’s inability to keep his damn mouth shut. Richie stared off into the distance, biting his lip. He sighed loudly, when he heard the door behind him open and shut.

“Go away, I’m not in the mood, Stanley.” Richie snapped, without turning around. Stanley always tried to talk him down after he got pissed off.

“It’s not Stanley..” A quiet voice said, causing Richie to turn around. He looked up, at Eddie, who seemed to be looming over him. “Can I sit?”

Richie nodded slowly, watching Eddie walk down the first step, and sit down beside Richie. The pair sat in silence for a moment. Richie didn’t know how to even strike up a conversation with the boy beside him, so they just sat in silence. Until Eddie broke it.

“Do you like me?” Eddie asked, slowly. It was a blunt question, but there was genuine curiosity in Eddie’s voice. Richie turned slightly, looking at Eddie, with almost wide eyes. “Do you?” Eddie asked again.

“Yes..” Richie said quietly, looking down at his lap.

“Why?”

Richie looked at Eddie again, quickly. Eddie’s face was full of curiosity again, and he looked adorable. “You’re cute.. Really cute, Ed’s.” Richie said the nickname as if he had said it 100 times before, even though he had never said it before. He didn’t even know where it came from.

“We’ve never even talked before.” Eddie said, a blush forming on his cheeks, his eyes still wide. “How do you even know you like me..?”

“I just do.” Richie shrugged, fiddling with his fingers. His eyes were still focused on Eddie’s. So focused, in fact, that he didn't even notice Eddie leaning in, until Eddie’s eyes were closed, and his lips were pressed to Richie’s.

And then Richie’s eyes fluttered closed, and he found himself kissing back. And it was gentle, and slow. And to Richie it felt right. And he really hoped it felt right to Eddie, as well. Richie found himself pulling away, reluctantly, to find out why Eddie had kissed Richie.

“I do too.” Eddie shrugged, blushing more than before, and grinning. And Richie couldn't help but grin as well, leaning in to kiss the boy, again.