#or is it that he is remembering the awfulness of neibolt? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lemon-ty · 3 years ago

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While I have no time to draw I found that thing from twitter and I don't think it would be bad if I post at least anything till I'll be free to draw?? and let's say that's just one another post before I'll finally add some of It in my blog

I'll just answer all in one post let's go, guys

(Movies & mini series & book mixed)

1. Favorite female character

I don't think there're a lot of 'em lol. But

Patricia Uris

That's right, not Beverly. Patti has one(!) chapter and somehow I fell in love with her character while reading it. She's got her own story before Stan and she's got a very very very beautiful relationships with him.

(I'm so in love with Uris family I mean whyyyy can't I just have some Stan with his pretty wife and a CHILD THANK U VERY MUCH)

2. Favorite male character

RICHIE

I'm just in love with him he's perfect next

3. Worst character

Bill?

OK, let's talk about it. I was kinda neutral to everyone in the Loser club except Richie for a year or more. Then while being in fandom I fell in love with these guys like with everyone of 'em concluding Bill. But when I decided to actually read a book... why is he so stupid and careless and fjligvdsvfuklugxseggh

Moron.

I really tried not to be "of course u let kid go alone what will happen right??" but this.fucking.weather.this.fucking.fact.that.Georgie.told.him.he.was.about.to.go.to.the.closed.area.u.know.closed.bc.it.was.dangerous.to.go.there like BOY, u killed ur brother when he stepped out of the house HAVE U EVEN LOOKED TO THE WINDOW???? Was it ur plan how to get rid of him bc he was clever and better than u and everyone loved him more? Bc if it was, well, congratulations! it worked not like u expected but still worked!

I'm bullying Bill Denbro in my house I wish for the alternative version with George as a main character instead of him-

4. Favorite scene

Richie and Beverly dancing together

I LOVE their friendship they're like BEST BROTP EVER

I love all their interactions and I find it SO ADORABLE they danced together I always think about it ...about 'em

5. Favorite member of the Loser club

Well, again? Fine. RICHIE

6. Original or remake?

I'd say book? But if we're talking only about films when of course remake

I saw mini series some time ago and that was cute and had a lot from the book (and abult Eddie-) but it was so naive and looked kinda stupid (sorry everyone but I'm the new auditory and I can't get that seriously especially after new films) while new films... Weeelll...

Let's be honest, I saw It 2017 only bc of James McAvoy in the second chapter and I found it boring. And then the second part I found more like a comedy than horror. I didn't like films that time but I liked characters (Richie). Some weeks ago I rewathed both It 2017 and It 2019 and second one is still too long and a comedy but first I found interesting

So remake is great at least on the second time watching and that's enough

7. Reddie?

Reddie is always the answer it's never a question cuz the answer is YES all the answers YES

8. Ben of Bill?

Oh that's a question for me and my hate to Bill!

Ben OF COURSE

Not only bc I hate Bill, Ben is awesome himself. In films he was more leader for the Losers that Bill and Mike like together?? And have u seen that he did fo Henry in the book? Damn boy u're way too cool slow down

9. Best ship

Look question 7

10. Worst ship

OK it took a lot time to find the one bc I don't think there's any ship I would actually hate or smth but if thiiink Bill × Beverly

First, bc Bill?? Seriously?? Go and find someone better, my girl

Second, bc Ben and Bev have much more chemistry (god, Richie and Bev have more chemistry and this tells the person who would kill for reddie)

11. Book or movie?

Book

(and if u say the book is too big I swear I-)

12. Tim or Bill as Pennywise

Why do u need to ask such difficult questions?? I mean, I love every version of Pennywise no matter if it's book or 1990 or 2017-2019 they all are great in their own ways

So both Tim and Bill have an extreme charisma, different but equal in power

I like Tim's Penny bc he's simple and warm I mean c'mon I would definetly hug him or anything and die happy, I mean, he just got ur trust??? And I like how bad effects make him seams not like an awful monster who will eat u but like a friendly mischief (listen me up: he makes sink dirty right after Bev cleaned it up like phhhhhhhhahaha really u're a moron u know). Yeah, that's not that Pennywise is meant to be but that's adorable

And I love Bill's version bc he does look scary (in a some way, of course). Yeah yeah new effects are doing their work and the costume is less friendly than Tim's but the most important is Bill's acting. His mimic and expressions are perfect he fits this role way too good. And, damn, he's so funny like... Yeah, I'd spend my last minutes with him he's great, that would be the most hilarious death I could ever get

So... can I just say both??

13. Funniest character

Do u really see this as a question??

Richie. The funniest guy ever. I would go to his stand-up. I would buy his merch. I would buy hi- AHEMAHEM

Seriously, I found him irritating watching 1st movie first time but after 2d started I've changed my mind he's a diamond that makes films better like he's the only reason I didn't fall asleep while watching 2d part

14. Worst character fear

OK, let's say we don't count the book here. Bc, u know, the fears in the book was, well, like actually kid's fears. Like someone just saw a horror film great now they've got a deep emotional trauma that's like kids work.

So saying about movies...

Stan

Does anyone really got what's wrong with that painting?? I mean???? Just an art what's wrong with u, Stan, do u like... hate art???

I do not get it, plz, if u do, just explain me bc I have no fucking idea why should it be a normal fear that's stupid

15. Favorite actor from the film

James McAvoy

Like I said I went to this fandom ONLY bc of him

16. Favorite adult character

Do u think they grew up and anything changed? Hell no!

Richie

Forever Richie

17. Worst encounter with Pennywise

None? I really can't name u anything bc they all are great at leeeeast bc of Pennywise taking part in it. The scene with him can NOT be worst

(but still-

Eddie's such a stupid brave boy like WHY does he always need to go to scary deadly places I mean are u going to die of what????)

(in the book he just decided that was a great idea to actually try to get into the Neibolt house like ????????????????? U FUCKING BRAVE IDIO-)

18. Worst jump scare

I don't pay attention to any jump scares sorry

None

But I can name my fav! Mrs. Kersh. Not bc she's scary but SO FUNNY OMG

(and in mini series she IS scary, yeah...)

19. Favorite quote

Everything Richie says

20. Least favorite ship

Stanbro

This ship is really great: there're reasons why it's existing and the ship dynamic is good but... I hhhaaaateeee Biiilllllly. And that's the whole problem, yes. Blame me but I can't love otp if I don't like one of the characters

21. Favorite fan account

Don't follow any

22. Favorite Pennywise quote

Is he saying anything??

Alright-alright I know how it looks. "U say u love Penny but don't remember any of the words he's saying". Yes! All I remember is that everything he says is cool but, yeah, sorry, I have nothing in my head

23. Best friendship

RICHIE TOZIER

BEVERLY MARSH

24. Richie or Bill?

Who the fuck will choose Bill?????? Richie's the best

I mean, u want me to choose between my fav one and the one I hate most? really?

25. Eddie or Ben?

Not lying to u that's a difficult question. I like both of 'em so I needed a list with +s and -s of each one

Eddie:

+ Jack Dilan Grayser's face

+ the thing with hand

+ u can joke about his mom

+ s.h.o.r.t.s

+ he's mean I like ppl like that (I'm person like that)

+ can kill u with the knife just stuck in his cheek

+ healer

+ brave as hell

- he's SO loud

- non human speed of talking

- most of the time he's a wimp, let's be honest

- DEAD

- has scary tendencies of amputation everything

- not Riche's husband somehow

- mindlessly brave as hell

- FIVE

- PARAGRAPHS

- OF

- OBSCURE

- MEDICINE

- STUFF

in his very first chapter

Ben:

+ an architect (i concider all of 'em like gods)

+ punctual. If he said he'll be in ur bar on Saturday when he'll be doesn't matter he's in London right now

+ I tell u he's a hidden leader

+ can drink and stay sober

+ HE

+ PUNCHED

+ HENRY'S

+ BALLS

- wrote a haiku I don't like haiku

- minuses are ended

So Ben has less +s but less -s if u compare to his +s. So, sorry, Eds, but Ben

26. Funniest scene

Every with Richie

27. Least favorite male characters

I can't just say Bill again, right? Or I caaan???

Bill

28. Most underrated character

MIKE

I see ppl love every character even the once that has really small time (STAN) but I haven't seen so much ppl loving Mike. Everyone kinda... forgot about him?? What an irony

29. Favorite edit

Every with Richie

30. Is fack real?

Plz don't ship real ppl

#it #it 1990 #it 2017 #it 2019 #it challenge #the losers club #pennywise

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emmettspeakz · 5 years ago

Note

Reddie prompt 🎈 After the events of chapter 2 (Eddie lives) they move in together. One day one of them is approached on the street by a clown that's promoting the new circus in town and has a mental breakdown. The other comforts. You can choose which is which, I don't mind~

Thanks for the prompt anon! Sorry this took so long to write~college is a bitch at the moment but I finally had a break to write. Feedback as always is really appreciated, whether it’s good or bad.

@g-ay-gatsby cuz you always want me to tag you in reddie stuff :P

Richie awoke in a cold sweat. He glanced over at his husband, shirtless, fast asleep with his face down next to him on the bed they shared. Their shiba inu lay down by the end of the bed, wagging his tiny fluffy tail back and forth at the sight of Richie standing up to get dressed. Richie grinned at the dog, a soft, tired grin and pat his fluffy head in greeting. He heard loud shouts and calls from outside their apartment window, and almost cursed out loud at them to quiet down less they wake up his beautiful sleeping husband.

“Fucking bastards.” He grumbled.

“Who you calling bastard?” Eddie mumbled into his pillow.

Richie moved a piece of hair from his husband’s face and forced himself to smile.

“It’s nothing, Eds. Go back to sleep, baby.”

“It’s that stupid new advertisement across the street right Rich?”

Rich clenched his jaw. He didn’t want to admit what he felt deep down inside him, that the circus was the last thing he wanted to come across on the way to work.

“It’s nothing Eds.” Richie repeated, more sternly this time, suggesting he didn’t want to talk about it, even to Eddie.

Eddie dropped the subject, picking up his head from his pillow, his eyes still droopy from sleep.

“Why don’t we go downtown today?” Eddie suggested, getting slowly to his feet. “It’ll get us away for a while.”

Richie smiled down at his husband, dipping down and kissing the top of his head.

“Good idea, spaghetti man.”

“Be more original with your pet names, sweetie.” Eddie teased, slipping an arm into a white button up shirt.

“Shut up, Edward.”

“Bite me, Trashmouth.”

“Maybe I will!”

Richie and Eddie locked eyes and they grinned at each other before Eddie removed himself from the trance, smacking his husband on the thigh with the back of his hand.

“C’mon, get dressed and we’ll get going.”

“I’m going, I’m going.” Richie fake groaned, pulling blue jeans over his gray boxers.

When they were all dressed and ready to go, they walked out the front door, holding each other’s hands unapologetically.

They got pretty close to where their car was parked in the apartment complex’s parking lot before they were bombarded by a young man in full clown makeup. He was holding a red balloon in one hand and a poster in the other. He came up to them rather quickly, spouting his sales pitch for the new circus opening across the street from their apartment complex.

“Hello there sirs! Have you heard about the new circus opening up behind you? We know it’ll be an awesome, fun time! We got balloons, clowns, acrobats of all kinds. Why not try going to a show?” The man thrusted the poster into Richie and Eddie’s faces.

Richie immediately froze in place at the sight of the red balloon the man was holding. Everything he’d seen in Derry, all the comments about his sexuality, the stupid fucking clown that had terrorized his childhood, all the memories flooded over him at once and he could barely breathe. His hands went to his ears to drown out any and all noise, but the familiar creepy laugh of Pennywise the dancing clown filled them nonetheless.

“Wanna play truth or dare?”

He heard those same words from his last encounter with Pennywise ring in his ears, causing panic to rise within him. His throat felt deathly dry, as if he was lost in a desert without any sign of water. He felt himself start to shake before everything started to phase in and out of focus. He wasn’t sure if he needed to throw up or scream.

He was rooted to the spot, thinking of nothing else besides the trauma he’d suffered as a kid and as an adult: how he’d almost lost Eddie to the clown, how his friends had fixed up Ben after he’d been slashed by the clown, how they’d lost Stan in the sewers and he was almost devoured by the clown, the image of Bill’s little brother Georgie’s raincoat the only thing Bill had of him because of that damn clown.

And then there was Henry fucking Bowers...

It was all too much for him. Richie couldn’t even go into basements or certain kinds of bathrooms without freaking out, and now there was a guy reminding him of the exact thing that he’d been afraid of since middle school. It wasn’t just the threat of dying from a demon fucking clown. It was the kids bullying him about him being a fl*mer, dressing up as the clown just to torment him and call him the f word. It was everything that had to do with the stupid fucking clown. It’d terrorized his friends, and he’d almost lost two of them to that stupid fucking clown.

He didn’t even register Eddie telling off the guy until he realized he was back sitting on their shared bed. He buried his face in his hands, crying softly, every once in a while those cries turning into body-rocking sobs that left him shaking with emotion. Eddie just held him and rubbed his back softly, waiting for an opportunity to reassure him verbally, as right now Richie was too wracked with sobs to be able to hear anything Eddie could say to him.

“Hey, hey,” Eddie whispered after a long time of Richie just crying and shaking. “The clown is gone, Rich. We killed the fucker. I’m here, Stan’s still here, all the losers are still here. I saved you and you saved me back. We’re here together. We fucking survived it all, Richie. I told you I loved you that day. Think of that instead. Do you hear me? I love you. I’m here, babe.”

Richie kept crying, wiping at the snot and tears spilling down his face. Though he brightened slightly when Eddie spoke, he still felt an overwhelming amount of fear wash over him like a wave pool, each wave worse than the last. He just kept shaking and muttering to himself and crying on and off, unable to shake the amount of panic that filled his very being.

Eddie held him tighter, gripping his shoulders to try and steady him as his body shook violently along with his sobs. Richie just couldn’t get himself together. He just kept thinking about how he’d almost lost Eddie, how he’d lived in fear of the demon clown and being outed his entire life, and even now that he was happy and with the love of his life, he couldn’t forget that awful part of his life that he tried so hard to bury deep, deep, deep down within himself and never drag back out. But the man dressed as a clown outside across from their home had managed to destroy his well-kept wall in one fell swoop, leaving Richie a giant vulnerable mess.

“It’s okay, Rich. Hey, hey, look at me.” Eddie picked up his husband’s face in his hands and forced him to look him in the eye, despite the tears pouring from his eyes.

“We’re safe now baby. I’m okay. I’m here now. I saved you and you saved me, remember? We got together that day. Remember that? Come on baby, think.” Eddie pulled a tissue box from his night stand by their bed and offered it to Richie.

Richie sniffled, taking a tissue from Eddie to wipe his tear-soaked face.

“Best day of my life.” Richie replied, his voice soft but somehow still confident.

“There ya go.” Eddie told him, holding him close toward himself and squeezing him tight. “What did you say to me?”

Richie forced himself to laugh, even though his chest felt like an dry, empty cavern from crying. He coughed hard and loud but made himself chuckle again. Eddie fetched him a glass of water, making sure not to leave his husband’s side for too long as he knew that right now Richie needed his comfort more than anything.

“I didn’t even say anything. I was so relieved that you were...that you were---” Richie’s voice shook and he started crying again.

“No no no, baby, Richie, come on. What did you do?”

“I kissed you so hard.” Richie sobbed. “I kissed you as soon as we got out of Neibolt house because I was so happy that we had survived and I wanted to ask you to marry me right then and there but I didn’t. I was too scared you were gonna hate me ‘cause I just fucking kissed you out of literally nowhere.”

Eddie smiled so wide he felt tears begin to form in his own eyes.

“Yeah, I had to do that for you, ya coward.” Eddie teased lightly. Richie shoved him lightly in return.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. You get credit for proposing before me for the rest of our marriage okay? Stop reminding me of the one win I missed out on!”

Eddie was relieved to hear Richie’s sass return to his voice, even if it was quiet and more reserved than usual.

“Hey, wanna stay in bed and watch netflix or maybe I can read to you from that book?”

“You mean Brokeback Mountain? That’s pretty gay of you Eds.”

“We’re literally married, Rich. We’re two married gay men.”

“I know. I just--I just had to get you to say it.”

Richie looked at the ground again, and Eddie worried Richie was getting lost in his triggering thoughts again. He moved to cup his husband’s face with his hands holding his cheeks tightly in order to place a kiss on Richie’s soft lips.

Even after all these years, Richie was still surprised to get kisses from Eddie. When he did though, they were always full of passion and genuine love. He wasn’t sure how he didn’t burst into tears every time he got to kiss Eddie Kaspbrak. Afterall, he’d been his childhood crush for as long as he could remember. He didn’t know what he did to deserve someone like him, someone who would take care of him when his mental health got the better of him.

“Thanks for always taking care of me Eddie,” Richie told him after a moment of silence between them. “I mean it. Thank you.”

Eddie just smiled at him.

“You helped me first with my asthma. I should be thanking you.”

It was Richie who kissed Eddie then. The kiss turned into a more passionate but sweet one, Eddie holding Richie’s face in his hands again, refusing to let him go. Richie doing the same, wrapping his arms around Eddie’s neck and holding him close enough so that their heartbeats thumped on top of each other.

“I love you Eddie Spaghetti.” Richie declared when they finally pulled apart for air.

“I love you too, Richie Tozier.”

#reddie fic #reddie angst #reddie #reddie fluff #it chapter 2 au #eddie is alive!!#stan is alive!!#emmett writes stuff

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trickstump · 5 years ago

Note

52 + stanpat 🤓

(200 prompts + send them to me here!)murryn i love you. here’s some pain.

Stan’s never been scared of his own front door before. Not since leaving Derry, since finding out that home didn’t have to be a place you dreaded going back to.

Not since Patty.

The front door is green- deep, emerald, picked out on a mutual whim. Patty had thought that the color was pretty, painted the door herself. Stan had thought that her love of the hue was everything, and he’d helped paint, a bit, if ‘helping’ meant kissing her and getting covered in paint.

He’s terrified of it, now. Frozen stiff, split between knocking and just falling to his knees on the front porch and sobbing until he couldn’t anymore.

He thinks of Patty- inside, alone. Alone, because of him.

He knocks.

It could be a second or an eternity before Patty opens the door and oh, oh, Stan had missed her so much. He’s only been- well, alive to do it for a few hours, really, but it’s been an ache in his chest since nearly the second he’d come up in the quarry, gasping for air. Even once he’s stopped gasping, sobbing like a newborn being thrown into the world without warning, he’d felt like his lungs weren’t filling properly. Like there was something more than air he needed to be able to breathe.

He inhales, when their eyes meet, knowing that this is what he was missing then. “Patty-”

The door slams shut in his face.

“Okay,” he says, blinking. “That’s- fair. That’s fair.”

It’s another long moment before she opens the door again, and the emotions flicking across her face make Stan’s chest ache. Disbelief. Hurt. Hope. Fear. “I know I’m not asleep,” she says, looking him in the eye like she’s scared that looking anywhere else will make him disappear. “I haven’t been able to sleep for days. So, am I going crazy, or are ghosts real?”

“Babylove,” Stan says, because it’s the only thing he can say, voice breaking. “I’m so sorry.”

The next few moves are a chain reaction: Patty says “oh,” and takes a step back, and Stan stumbles forward in the same move with a sob that shakes his whole body. He trips over the doorstep getting inside; it’s a step up he’s missed so many times before. Patty had always laughed at him, caught him before he’d fallen. Today, though, he falls to his knees and doesn’t stand. Can’t. He’s not sure his legs will hold him.

“Oh,” Patty says again as the door swings shut behind him. The sound of it makes his ears ring. “Stanley.” She sounds like she’s crying too, but Stan can’t make himself pick his head up to look at her. He’s scared again, pinning in place, eyes squeezed shut, forehead pressed against the cool, dark wood in the entryway. Another thing they’d picked together; the whole house used to be covered in awful yellow carpet. They’d torn it up together, hollowed out the whole place, really, and rebuilt it into something better, nicer. Something that was theirs.

How could he have ever left?

There’s a hand, then, on his shoulder- and then another on the other, too, urging him to sit up. He does, and finds that Patty’s dropped to her knees, too, and she’s crying, shaking just as much as he is. He opens his mouth to apologize again.

He doesn’t even get out the first breath before she’s kissing him.

The kiss breaks him apart and sews him back together again a thousand times over. They’re both breathless when they finally pull away, and Stan isn’t sure if they’re laughing or crying. “You’re here,” Patty says, face pressed into the crook of his neck. “You’re really here, you’re home.”

“I never should’ve left,” Stay says, holding her like his life depends on it. It does. “I never meant to, I never should have, I’m sorry.”

“You’re home,” Patty says again, pulling back to look at him. She’s smiling now, even if she’s still crying, hands pushing into Stan’s hair, fingers tangling in his curls. “It’s going to be okay, baby. You’re home.”

They have to get up eventually, but neither of them are inclined to let go of each other any time soon. They beeline to the bedroom without having to say a word about it. Stan knows he probably smells disgusting- he feels disgusting. He’s still wearing the clothes he had been in in the quarry, and he hadn’t spent enough time in Derry to shower. He’d caught up with the Losers as much as he could, hellos, apologies, goodbyes, and new promises to meet had all been traded in a few scan hours. No one seemed to want to stay in town longer than they had to.

Richie had bought him his ticket home. “Tell her I said hi,” he’d said when he and Stan had parted ways at the airport, Eddie a few steps behind them, arguing with someone on the phone. “And, I call best man at the vow renewal.”

The flight had been long, too long, and he was drenched in sweat from the few minutes he’d spent out in the Georgia summer sun. None of that could possibly have made him smell nice. He needs to shower, soon.

The door to the bathroom is shut. Stan can’t even look at it without feeling sick.

So, instead, he lets Patty strip him out of his clothes, and he returns the gesture, and they fall into bed. They kiss- heated but without intent for more, limbs tangling for no reason than the fact that they need to be intertwined like they’d always been, need to be touching at every point to know that they’re both really there.

After awhile, they’re just holding each other, silent but not uncomfortable, even though Stan’s chest is still aching. It will for awhile, he knows- but. Not forever, not if he’s here. Not if he’s home.

“I thought I had almost-” Patty says after a long moment, but cuts herself off with a noise. “No. I thought I had really lost you.”

“I know,” Stan says, guilt tying his stomach in knots. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop saying you’re sorry,” Patty says, pressing a kiss to his jaw, hand stroking down his side, soothing. “I know you are, I know. You’re home, and it’s… it isn’t okay, now, but it will be. I just… I want to understand. What happened, how are you here, why did you k- why did you go?”

He takes a deep breath. “It’s a long story. I don’t know that you’ll believe me- shit, I barely believe me, and I know that it’s real.”

“I’m listening,” Patty says. She sits up, but doesn’t pull away. “And, I already believe you.”

When Stan looks up at her, there’s something fierce in her expression.

“I love you,” he says. She smiles, nudging him until he shifts, puts his head in her lap so her fingers can card gently through his hair.

“I love you, too,” she says. “I’m listening. I’ve got you.’

And, how she always knows just what to say, just what he needs, Stan will never know, but he’ll never stop feeling so, so lucky for it, either. He takes a deep breath, settles, and closes his eyes.

“What I was- geez, eight, maybe? I say next to this kid in class. He was… loud, and kind of annoying. But, he was nice, and funny- and, after awhile, my best friend…”

He starts from the beginning- the very beginning, meeting Richie- and tells her everything. He talks about growing up in Derry, the son of the rabbi, about meeting his friends, about the clubhouse and the early morning bike rides to the secret clearing out in the woods where he’d birdwatch by himself. He tells her about Georgie, and the painting; about It, and the sewers. About his bar mitzvah. About Neibolt, and getting the scars he’d never had an explanation for when she’d ask where they were from. About the most scared he’d ever been, seeing the Deadlights, the promise they’d all made- and, after. High school, wanting to leave Derry so desperately but never, never wanting to leave behind his friends.

About graduating.

About their last summer, and then leaving.

About forgetting against his own will, not knowing what he was losing, having his real family torn from him against his will.

About Mike’s call. About how scared he’d been, then, remembering what he’d seen in the Deadlights. Knowing what he had to do, knowing that no matter what, it had always been going to end like this.

“It didn’t end, though.”

Patty has been listening quietly, until he said that. Her fingers still in his hair. Stan opens his eyes to look at her.

“It didn’t,” he says. “I.. thought it would, though.”

Patty nods, her own eyes falling shut for a moment. Stan just watches, quiet. Lets her take her time.

“You saved them, then?” she asks, finally.

Stan hums. “And, they saved me. When they killed It.”

Patty nods again, once, and opens her eyes. “I’ll have to thank then, then,” she says. “For making sure you got to come home.”

Stan lets out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding. “They all want to meet you,” he says. “Richie said to say ‘hi.’ He wants to be our best man.”

Patty laughs. It’s a bright, happy sound, lighting up her whole face. It makes Stan feel like he’s flying.

“We’ll invite them all down, sometime soon,” she says, leaning down to kiss him again. “After I’ve had the chance to have you to myself, for awhile.”

Stan grins up at her. “Babylove,” he says, because it’s the only thing he ever wants to say again. “You and I have got forever.”

Patty’s eyes are sparkling. “You promise?”

“I do,” Stan says, and that’s all he gets to say before she pulls him into another kiss, and reminds him of the last night they’d had after he’d made a promise like that.

He’s home, and unafraid.

#stanpat #jack writes #anyway stanpat warriors rise #i poured blood sweat and tearsr into this please clap #pattyblumuris

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reddie-fangirl24 · 4 years ago

Note

"What do you mean there's no coffee?!"

@thoughtfullyyoungduck‘s request line is also in this. This is a Friends AU. Enjoy!

Support me on my Ko-Fi!

“What do you mean there’s no coffee?” It was like a scene from a horror film. Richie was living on no sleep. He had to go meet with the producers for a possible part in a TV show that Steve signed him up for. Of all nights for the deadlights to plague him with disturbing nightmares, Richie felt like he was going to jump out of his skin.

The Losers gathered around the table for breakfast, just like they did every morning. “Don’t you remember what we proposed, Rich? No coffee for a week,” Mike informed him.

Don’t go crazy. Don’t go crazy. “Why did we agree on that?” Richie grasped the countertop, avoiding even looking at his friends. After he practically scared himself when he looked in the mirror that morning, he knew that he would only make his friends worry.

“Just to see if we can last without it,” Bill told him. Normally he was the coffeeholic out of all of them.

No coffee... he had to meet with the producers... no sleep... Eddie was murdered right in front on him in the vision of the deadlights. It wasn’t real, but having to watch Eddie’s body get speared through from Pennywise’s claw as blood shot out on his face was the worst image ever.

Richie slowly felt himself losing his mind as he paced the room, almost ripping out his hair. He was so overtired that he didn’t realize that he was muttering nonsensical words out loud, manically pacing through the apartment. It was coming back. The imaged replayed in his mind like someone kept hitting the rewind button.

Someone was touching his shoulder which freaked him out, nearly making him stumble over a table. “Is everything okay, Richie?” Ben asked concerned. Because Richie kept his back to everyone, Ben noticed the awful circles under his friend’s eyes.

“Fine! Everything is fun!” Richie could feel his heart pounding. Not to mention, sweat built upon his eyebrows. Red. All the blood. Eddie died right in his arms. And they left him under the wreck of Neibolt.

A hand was pressing against his forehead. It was Eddie mouthing words that he could not make out. How did he get on the couch? “You’re burning up, Richie,” Eddie told him. “Go back to your apartment and lie down.”

“No, I have the interview today!” Richie’s voice was higher than usual, combined with his heart squeezing in his chest. He quickly stood up from the couch, pacing the room again, rushing towards the door.

“Honey, you should reschedule the meeting for another day. They’ll understand. You don’t look well,” Beverly alerted him. All the Losers were crowding around trying to figure out what the problem was. Bill and Ben touched his shoulders just like the way they hauled him away from Eddie’s body in the vision, kicking and screaming.

“I don’t need your help!” Richie hollered making everyone jump from his tone. There was no reason for him to yell, he was just so overwhelmed and confused, trying to grasp reality from fantasy. “Just leave me alone!”

Unable to win at this facade, Eddie took him back to the apartment that he shared with Mike. Once they were alone they didn’t have to keep their relationship a secret. Eddie gathered his boyfriend in a hug and kissed the side of his head. Scared, and just wanting to hold Eddie so that horrible vision from the deadlights wouldn’t come true, Richie cried these awful sobs that cracked Eddie’s heart.

“What’s the matter?” Eddie asked, sitting themselves down on the couch. He brushed Richie’s curly hair with his hand which he loved and rocked them in slow even motions, reminiscent of a mother rocking a baby. On some nights when they were alone, that’s what they did, cuddling together in bed. “Is it this meeting that’s making you nervous?”

“It’s nothing!” Richie covered his face with his hands. All he wanted to do was sleep but he’d end up in another nightmare witnessing the love of his life sliced open right in front of him.

“Maybe you should sleep,” Eddie suggested, gently brushing his hand through his hair.

“I don’t need to sleep! I’m fine!” Richie spat as more hot tears rolled down his cheeks.

Eddie didn’t believe him but he wasn’t going to force it out of him. So instead they went and slept in Richie’s bed together. Eddie held Richie tightly until his boyfriend was fast asleep. Feeling a lot better, Richie actually did not have any nightmares this time, holding Eddie’s hand as he slept.

#Reddie #The Losers Club #Friends AU #nightmares #reddie fanfiction #It Fanfiction #It Chapter 2 #It Movie #Eddie Kaspbrak #Richie Tozier

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russian-romanova · 5 years ago

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too late

title: too late

pairing: stanley uris

word count: 4.6K

warnings: adult language, mentions of suicide and major character death

notes: i couldn’t find a decent transcript of chpt 2 online, so lots of the dialogue was either skimmed over or guessed at. also, i mention stan as the one who slices open their palms because that’s who does it in the book.

summary: you arrive back in derry after twenty-seven years, only to discover that the clown you hated is back, and the boy you had silently loved is gone.

+ + +

You would never say anything, but you had always loved Stan.

To some degree, you had all loved each other. It was cheesy and hard to vocalize for eight young teenagers, but you had all figured it out. Perhaps that made it more confusing how you cared about Stan so much, perhaps you simply thought you cared about all of them in that way. Looking back, the memories growing the longer you were in Derry, you realized it had been a deeper sort of love that had connected you to Stan.

One of the first clues you remembered was how scared you had been when Stanley had gone missing so close to the end. Seven of you were already looking for a missing Beverly, and you had almost lost Mike to Henry Bowers. You had been crouching there on your hands and knees, absolutely positive that things couldn’t get any worse when Eddie had wondered aloud where Stan was.

Instantly, your stomach had dropped. There was no chance that he had gotten lost in here, you knew it somewhere in the back of your mind. Eddie knew it too, you could tell from the shake in his voice. He wasn’t asking where Stan was hiding, he was asking where It had led him. Collectively, all of the Losers realized the same thing and began looking in the area you had all been, but you froze. You couldn’t move simply because you had forgotten how, because the moment you heard the words you realized that you had a new worst fear.

As a child, less than a month later, you had connected the fear of losing Stanley to the fear that accompanied losing any one of your friends. But when Beverly had gone missing you didn’t feel that. The newfound wisdom that came with adulthood opened your eyes, or else it was the order you remembered Derry in, and you found yourself looking back in awe at how much you had loved thirteen-year-old Stanley Uris. At even the thought that something had happened to him, you hadn’t been able to move.

The second clue had come earlier, although it meant nothing until years later. In the twenty-seven years since your first encounter with It, you had moved on. Every single one of you had, to some extent, and everyone but Mike had left Derry and forgotten all about that summer. Subconsciously, you found yourself remembering bits and pieces. Sometime in your early twenties, your worst fear had morphed from big dogs to clowns, with no real reason as to why. When you walked around anywhere, you would go out of your way to walk at least a good two feet away from any sewers, although you never understood why.

One of the bigger ones, the memories that you would share over lunch with the losers so much later, was the pictures you had made. In the time since 29 Neibolt Street and Pennywise, you had become an artist. You were fairly well known, at least to people within the art community, with realistic paintings of objects and scenery. Two of your more well-known paintings you connected to Derry, Maine.

The first one, and more subtle one was called “Summer”. It was unmistakably the Barrens, complete with a few small and blurry figures that Ben would later point out as four losers: Bev, Mike, Bill, and Stan.

The second piece of art was the only sketch you had put out. It had come to you in the middle of the night, as cheesy as it sounds, and you had grabbed a notebook and drawn it roughly out. Amazingly, you had been able to transfer the small and sloppy sketch to a larger canvas, keeping all the details as you had dreamed them. It was of a boy, no more than thirteen, with curly hair and bloodied skin. His arms were loose at his sides, one gripping a shard of a glass bottle. The boy’s eyes -- dark and tired -- were looking at something off to the side, and his mouth was unsmiling. “Coke Bottle Boy.” It was one of your favorites.

You had been driving down to Derry from New York when you realized who that picture was of, and the memories came back so quickly you had to pull over. It was Stan, you realized despite the spinning of your head. Stanley Uris, who had been the one to slice the palms of every loser before Bill declared that you would all come back, at least if It ever did.

And, as it seemed, It had.

Mike Hanlon had called you earlier that day, and you had gotten the same splitting headache that you would get on the road hours later. Headache wasn’t even the right word for it, it felt as if your brains were being blended and stirred. He had given you in the information you knew in the back of your mind, that It was back, and because of that, you would have to come back. “No,” Had been the first word out of your mouth, a refusal before you even thought about it. “Sorry, I mean…” You had trailed off, unsure of what you had meant.

“Please, Y/N.” Mike had begged, and at his words, you folded. “You have to come, and you know it.” Refusals bubbled inside of you, but you had told him that you would. You had told Mike that you would come back to Derry, almost forty now, and be prepared to fight and die so It couldn’t take any more children. It made sense to you, of course. Save the children, the children are our future. No one deserved to go through what the children of Derry had gone through in 1988 and 1989, but you were so scared. Nothing had scared you this much, not since you had put your first artwork up for display.

The worst part was that you didn’t know what you were so afraid of. What was in Derry that had brought your brain for a spin, given you an instant concussion? Most of your childhood was blurry, things you couldn’t remember and faces you couldn’t quite make out. Yet somewhere in all that fuzz, was fear. Fear that bubbled to your throat, making a home there as well as in your stomach. You wanted to throw up, but you couldn’t. It was terrifying.

But then you remember something nice, and it would be alright for a while. Like the clubhouse in the Barrens, or jumping into the Quarry. Those times you would smile, and your heart would flutter at the fleeting feeling of being young again, being free and unafraid. You could practically feel the air hitting your skin before you broke the surface of the water, the feeling that you would forever associate with flying.

For these reasons, the happy memories of flying and of the people you only vaguely remembered, you left New York and went for Derry.

By the time you drove into the town limits, you remember more. Details about people, mostly, about Big Bill’s stutter and Richie’s glasses, and the way Beverly had cut her hair that summer. You remembered Bev’s fiery hair with such detail, the same details that you had added to the small canvas of trees and a hole in the ground.

In the back of your mind, you must have known the whole time who that painting was of. Your friend Martha had asked you what the paining head about, and you had firmly responded without second-guessing yourself. If you hadn’t remembered you wouldn’t have been so sure, right?

“Where did you say it was?” Martha had tried to peek around you in search of the painting. You had called her at six in the morning, telling her how you had been working on this painting for over a week and it was finally finished, how you thought it was amazing and you needed someone else’s opinion. Joined by the mysteriously covered painting in the background, the two of you were standing in the dim light of your apartment.

With a sigh, you had turned around and began to walk towards the painting. Pausing momentarily once you arrived, you looked at Martha as if for reassurance. The look on her face held no hesitation, and you pulled the white cloth from the painting. It came off slowly and forcefull at first before it cascaded down the side of the painting as if it was a river.

The painting was largely green, with trees and grass coating the canvas almost everywhere. Off to the side of the painting, but taking center stage, a door spilled light into some underground hiding spot. Emerging from it on a ladder was a small boy, his head turned to look back into the pit in eternal conversation.

Off to the side sat another boy, this one is a t-shirt slightly shaded with old sweat stains. The sun bounced warm sweat off his forehead as he relaxed, one leg stretched out and the other bent near his chest. His arms supported him from behind his back, and he looked lost in his own world; alone but surrounded by the people that made him comfortable.

Although it was hard to see, this boy was looking at a taller boy off to the side. This boy’s hands were stuck cooly in his pockets, his red-streaked hair caught eternally fluttering in the wind. Hopeful, his turned face looked into the distance with an ever heroic look. Next to him stood a young girl, her arms crossed in front of her chest with a fiery determination matched only by the bright red of her hair. Here, her hair was short and choppy, easily mistakable for another young boy in the artistic blur. You had always intended for her to be female.

One final boy stood not far from the hole in the ground, looking at whatever interaction the boy on the ladder was having with whoever was in the hole. All at once, this final boy’s face read annoyance and a childish delight that one has from simply having good friends. His hair seemed limitlessly curly, framing the top of his head in brown noodles. There were more than just these five, you had always known and felt that. You just couldn’t see them.

You would have to show the other losers a picture of the familiar ‘Summer' when you arrived. There would certainly be catching up, telling stories of where everyone was in life. When it got to you, your phone could be pulled out and pictures searched up. You could show them Derry-related ‘Summer’, and maybe some more original works if they asked for it. Silently, you decided you wouldn’t show them your drawing of Stan. That one you would keep to yourself, despite the chance that they had seen it somewhere else. If it was anything like Derry, at least they wouldn’t remember.

+ + +

When you arrived at Jade of the Orient, you quickly took comfort in the unfamiliar building. It had been an overwhelming few hours, with all of the familiar sites and memories coming back. It seemed every turn was accompanied by something familiar, and everything you recognized was accompanied by memories hitting you like bricks. Things just kept coming, important things. You couldn't believe how you could forget these things, things that had been as simple as remembering your own age back when you were kids. Twenty-four hours ago, you wouldn’t have remembered any of the names of the other losers, and now you were picturing their faces, visually morphing them within the depths of your mind to show age. Perhaps Richie had grown a beard, or Ben’s hair had gone all grey.

In your mind, things like these details remained separate from the real images you painted. You simply added shading around the eyes and mouth, the personification of age attacking a person. They had done some growing, just as you had, and they would be older now. What if when it came time to fight -- you didn’t even understand what you were so sure about fighting -- you were all too old? It had been twenty-seven years after all, and what if you had fallen out of practice since then? You weren’t warmed up or prepared for anything, and yet that seemed the least of the worries within your mind.

The doors to enter the Jade of the Orient were roughly a dozen yards away from you. So close, yet you couldn’t even bring yourself to leave your car. The back of your mind screamed at you that it wasn’t too late, that you could put the car back into drive and pull away from here, away from Derry and the secrets it kept buried. You smothered the idea.

Quietly, you pushed open your car door and stepped outside. The wind was fairly cold, whipping your hair onto your face and blocking your view every few seconds. ‘Just walk,’ you had to tell yourself. ‘Walk inside and you’ll see them, and you can sit down and it will be okay. You’re scared now, but that’s okay because Big Bill knows what to do and Richie will tell a joke to lighten the mood. It’s going to be alright because it was alright last time.’ There were more factors you pushed out of your mind and instead focused on steadily walking towards the door.

You found yourself wondering what Stan would look like. Would he have gotten taller or wider? You hoped he still dressed up as much as he had in your childhood, with button-ups and adult undertones in his style. For the first time, you considered that maybe the butterflies in your stomach weren’t nervous, they were excited.

A gust of warmer air met you as you stepped inside, colors and lights meeting you from all sides. Eyes flickering from face to face, your heart dropped as you recognized none of them. What if none of them had come, if they had listened to the same gut feeling that had told you to drive away? Or even worse -- what if you wouldn’t recognize them? What if they were there, among these people, and your mind was too far away from Derry to remember what they actually looked like?

Still, you had told the young woman at the counter that there were likely reservations made under ‘Hanlon’, that you were here to see some old friends. The young woman smiled and told you they were in the party room, and your stomach had gone crazy again. Nerves this time, you were positive of it. You were nervous out of your wits to be seeing your old friends, nervous that they wouldn’t want you there anymore or that they would be too different than the children you remembered. Any time left to change your mind disappeared with the movement of the server’s hand, moving in what must have been slow-motion to pull open the door.

Laughter spilled out once it was cracked open, and it came out in rushing waterfalls once it was splayed open. The motion brought all of their eyes to you, and you felt like a deer in headlights. For a moment, the room was void of the adults you had been meeting and was filled with children, seemingly too small for the chairs they sat in, with wide eyes looking at you. Then, all at once, you recognized them and they grew up.

Greetings flew around the room in all directions. You were giddy, looking from face to face as you connected them. Beverly had grown somehow even more beautiful, and Ben was looking more amazing than any of you could have predicted he would. Eddie and Richie both looked the same, Eddie frightened and small, Richie with his glasses and constant smile. Mike and Bill were the two that looked the oldest, you realized. They showed their ages subtly, but it was there. There was something so comforting in the sameness you had walked into, the sameness that had been so unexpected.

You had hugged each of them in turn, giving individual greeting and compliments. Walking in, you had been worried about what to say, about what words would come out of your mouth. None of it was unnatural now, and the greetings and talk came out as if the twenty-seven years had been no more than twenty-seven hours.

When you got to Bill, had told you, “Stan’s just running a little late.”

You didn’t think of how quickly Bill had noticed you would be looking for Stan, just as it didn’t strike you that Stan was never once late in your childhood, you only stood back to tease your leader. “No stutter? Wow, now you really are perfect, huh?” Bill smiled back, and in his smile, you saw the boy who had led you all towards Neibolt.

You settled down next to Beverly, the two of you catching up with rundowns of your lives between leaving and coming back to Derry. When it came up in conversation, Beverly had insisted you show her until you pulled out your phone and searched up a picture of ‘Summer’, passing it to her. Her face had lit up instantly, and after a moment of considering it, she had passed it to Ben. He had looked at it as well, praising you before continuing the pass down the line. In years past, you had always been awkward at handling praise, but this wasn’t awkward. This was normal, and you accepted their words gratefully.

Your phone was stuck for a while around Eddie and Richie, each racing to figure out who was on the painting and who wasn’t. There had been a victorious laugh from Eddie when he realized Richie was nowhere to be seen, but then Richie pointed out how they could always remember how short Eddie had been and Eddie scrunched his face up and quieted down. Everyone had discussed their own fame, and you found yourself wondering how you hadn’t connected any of their names. You had heard of Beverly’s fashion line and thought you maybe read Bill’s book, but the names had meant nothing to you. With the amount you had forgotten, none of you were surprised.

The lunch went surprisingly well in comparison to your expectations. The absence of Stan had settled heavy in your mind, and you found yourself staring at his empty chair on more than one occasion. No one mentioned him, instead opting to laugh with each other at the moment. You supposed they felt the name nagging the in the back of their minds, the same pushing thought that you were here for a reason, and the reason was worse than anything you could imagine.

Maybe Stan had realized it too. Did he have the same thought, the one that silently warned of no return, and that was the reason he wasn’t here? Perhaps he had the smart idea to lie to Mike and simply not came, spare himself the grief and agony of a confrontation that was twenty-seven years overdue. He always was scared, you remembered suddenly, but that had never made him anything less than the rest of you. If anything, you had admired how he had overcome that fear and done his part in the end, even after he was attacked and almost had his face sucked off.

‘If I had remembered anything that happened down there,’ You thought to yourself. ‘I don’t think I would have come back to Derry, either.’

You were pulled back into the conversation as Richie spoke about Mike’s call. “When, uh, Mike called me I threw up.” His eyes flickered between the losers’ gazes and the table. He was nervous, you realized. Richie Tozier was hardly ever nervous.

“When Mike called me I crashed my car.” Eddied added quickly, glancing up at Richie before looking back down. Your mind went to the headaches you had gotten a few times, but those only seemed to accompany remembering.

Bill looked at Eddie. “Seriously?”

Ben jumped in. “Man I hear you, I mean my heart was litterally pounding right out of my chest.” Silently, you pondered the evidence. Why had you all been so nervous? When you had picked up the phone the first time -- before you even knew it was Mike -- you had gotten so nervous. The word afraid echoed in your mind. You were afraid.

“I thought it was only me,” Beverly said softly.

Bill nodded, adding. “It was like pure fuh-fuh-fuh-”

“Fear,” Mike finished, looked at Bill. You had all frozen, your eyes on Bill as he closed his mouth. He had stuttered, probably for the first time in a while. “It’s fear.”

“Why do we all fuh-feel like that, Mike?” Bill asked, ignoring the losers’ looks. “You remember something we don’t, don’t you Mike?”

“Something happens to you when you leave this town,” Mike began slowly. “The farther away, the hazier it all gets. But me… I never left. So yeah,” He looked to Bill. “I remember all of it.”

With his answer, you gulped.

There was a pause as the losers thought this over, forcing themselves to hit the barrier that kept the memories of that summer hidden. You remembered lots, but all of the details centered around people, centered around Stan. There was another face blurred in your mind, and even the blurred shape made the hairs on the back of your neck stand. Colors blurred and featured molded into one, but a name floated slowly to the surface.

“Pennywise,” You said quietly. Around you, your friends agreed in a chorus of distressed curses. That was why you had forgotten so much about Derry because you wanted to avoid It and any memories that accompanied It. Your head began to mildly throb, and it seemed to only get worse as the conversation went on. People had gone missing again, a few had even been killed, but the words only served as background noise as you massaged your head. Eddie passed you a concerned look, but you brushed it off with a small nod that you were fine.

By the time someone had suggested that fortune cookies should be opened, it was a little better. At least you could overcome it enough to reach for a fortune cookie of your own, snapping it open and laying aside the cookies to eagerly open your fortunes.

“That’s weird. This says ‘GUESS’.” Eddie spoke up first, looking from his paper to the other losers.

“Mine suh-says ‘NOT’.” Bill said, swallowing down the unfamiliar stutter.

“They probably don’t know how fortune cookies work,” Richie was next. “Mine says ‘COULD’.”

“Yeah, mine is just ‘I’.” You stared at the singular word on your paper, reading it as you scanned the black letter for a hidden meaning.

“I got ‘IT’.” Mike looked up.

“I got ‘CUT’,” Ben held up his paper so you could all see.

“Here, puh-puh-pass it here.” Bill motioned with his hands and you all shoved forwards your fortunes. You leaned over the table to see over the other loser’s heads at Bill’s plan of attack. He was arranging the words as if trying to solve a puzzle, switching around ‘IT’ and ‘GUESS’, moving ‘COULD’ to the front and then back into the middle. Silently you counted the sheets of paper and come up with only six, bringing your eyes up to Beverly’s terrified face.

“Bev?” You asked over the ruckus of your friends. She looked up from the paper, her face drained of any color. “Bev, what does your fortune say?”

She couldn’t speak for a moment, but she turned the paper around to face the group, who was now looking at her. By the time you could read it, she had found her voice. “‘STANLEY’,” She whispered. “Why does it just say his name?”

Your breathing became fast and shallow, watching as Bill carefully took the paper from Beverly. If the previous commotion had been a ruckus, this was certainly a cacophony. Your head pounded.

Hands shot out to rearrange words, voices shouted suggestions and confusing questions. Why didn’t Stanley come? If he had just come, this wouldn’t have been so scary. Deep down, you supposed you all knew why he wasn’t there, but none of you wanted to admit it. Admitting it would make it real, and that would have been the worst thing of all.

All at once, your headache was gone. It faded along with any other feelings in your body as your mind processed and recognized the words that were placed out in front of you.

‘I GUESS STANLEY COULD NOT CUT IT’.

You had very little time to think it over. All at once, the fortune cookies began to move and come to life, attacking you in what you were sure was some trick of It. Mike had finally picked up a chair and hit the table with it in an attempt to kill or at least subdue the nightmarish creatures. It was the type of fear you had almost forgotten you could feel. You would have forgotten the feeling completely if you hadn’t felt a tamer version when you picked up the phone what seemed like forever ago when Mike told you it was time to return.

Now you had made it outside. The whole reunion had been far from what any of you hoped it would be like, but it was what you should have expected. Outside, you had a chance to at least catch your breath before Beverly pulled out her phone to call Stanely. It had to be a trick from Pennywise, you all agreed. Just another trick.

Mike typed in Stan’s number, and you listened to the longest moment of near-silence you had ever heard before.

When it finally picked up, it was a woman who answered Beverly. Your senses felt overloaded with the information that brought, the idea that Stan didn’t answer his own phone, and that a woman was the one who did. You shouldn’t have been angry, and you really weren’t. It had been twenty-seven years, and you had always been too chicken to tell Stanley how you felt about him.

You should have. You knew that you should have because it was too late now.

Every remaining loser heard the words that came from the phone, and every single loser felt their heart drop in the same way. Stanley had killed himself. He was gone.

You didn’t feel anything. No more sadness, no bitterness, no anger. Not even surprise. Just numb.

The eight of you had dispersed twenty-seven years ago as children, and when you returned it was clear you still thought of each other as such. Not a single one of you thought this would happen, yet there wasn’t a person who wouldn’t think later that you had all known from the moment Stan was late.

You had known, but you had known too late.

#stan uris #stan uris x reader #stanely uris #stanley uris x reader #it #it chapter 2 #pennywise #ben hanscom #eddie kaspbrak #richie tozier #beverly marsh #mike hanlon #bill denbrough #now i am very sad bois #sad boi hours #:(

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demiromance · 5 years ago

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“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.

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nouserideax · 5 years ago

Text

The losers club as vines

Richie: like, you’re just so jealous of me

Stan: ... when?

Stan: How?

Stan: Where?

———

Stanley: hey guys, good alternative to recycling

Stanley: when you’re done with a glass bottle, eat it. Fucking eat it

———

Bill: *stirring Mac and cheese*

Richie: That’s what good pussy sounds like

Bill: Richie!

———

Beverly: *does anything*

Ben: wow

———

Richie, to Eddie: I love you bitch

Eddie: oh my god

Richie: I ain’t never gonna stop loving you

Richie: bitch

———

Mike: mother trucker.

Mike: that hurt like a butt cheek on a stick

———

Bill, singing: Baby

Eddie and Richie, continuing: it started when we were younger, you were mine.

Stan:

Bill, Eddie, Richie: my boo

———

Richie: he doesn’t deserve you. If he doesn’t treat you right by now, you’re gone

Beverly: I’m gone!

Richie: now go chop his di—

———

Eddie: sleep? I don’t know about sleep, it’s summer time!

Sonia, from the other room: you’re going to bed!

Eddie: oh she caught me

———

Bill @ Richie after escaping neibolt: What the fuck is up, Richie. No what did you say, what the fuck dude.

Bill punching Richie: Step the fuck up

———

Bill: add bacon and-

Stanley: uh, I’m not finished.

Stanley: Let’s get started. First off you-

Bill: we’ll grab the toaster-

Stanley: oh my god. Can you let me do what I need to do?

———

Ben: it’s summer. I’ve got my hat on backwards and It’s to fuckin’ party—

Ben: *hits head on garage door*

———

Mike, on the phone: Awe, I would I just... have too much to do tonight

Mike, later: *plays electric keyboard and drinks beer*

———

Ben: *giggled and skips over to the couch*

Ben: *lays down and answers phones*

Ben: Beverly... Whats up?

———

Richie, pointing gun: freeze!

Eddie: *bats his eyelashes, smiles and waves*

Richie: I can’t shoot you... you’re too cute

Eddie: *shoots his gun*

Eddie: I’m not cute, I’m adorable!

———

Stanley: just remember, no one will be able to hate you more than you already hate yourself

Stanley: *cries*

———

Stanley: check out this live feed of baby penguins

Mike:... don’t you have an essay due tomorrow?

Stanley: shut your fucking mouth, I’m busy

———

*in the middle of the lake*

Bill: Yeah, Maybe we should head back in

Richie: we could... or...

Richie: *breaks something off from the side*

Eddie:

Stanley: did you just break the fucking boat?

———

Richie: hey can I have a sip of that water?

Beverly: it’s not water

Richie: oh vodka. I like your style

Beverly: it’s vinegar

Richie:.. what?

Beverly: it’s vinegar, pussy

———

Eddie: calling people Daddy is gross

Richie: stop kink shaming me

Eddie: kink shaming is my kink

Richie:...

Richie: *screams*

———

Mike: *sits in car calmly and screams with his mouth shut*

———

Beverly: *laughing to herself*

Beverly: I know you didn’t say that to me bitch, I know you—

———

Richie: *walks by Eddie sitting on chair slowly*

Eddie: *shakes his head*

Richie: *turns back to look at him seductively*

Eddie: *throws water bottle at his ass only for it to bounce back*

Eddie: What the fuck?

Richie: I’m a whore you idiot

———

Beverly: hey, yo kill the music

Beverly: okay so, somebody left an ice cube on the ground and it melted so now my sock it wet?

Beverly: who the fuck wants to die

———

holy fuck this is so long. I’d be surprised if anyone read the whole thing. Let me know if you guys want a part two or something 😂

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har-rison-s · 5 years ago

Text

pretty proud

“pretty” part four

request: Maybe one based off the one about Bill’s older sister and Stan except she’s the person that Richie told about his crush on Eddie, and at the dinner scene, she smiles at Richie because she knows and as they’re leaving the restaurant, she hugs him and tells him it’s okay to still have feelings and she encourages him to go after Eddie

A/N: Hello. I love this and I love continuing the Pretty series. Also, I want to write some Reddie as of now. I feel like I could be very good at writing them, and maybe I should try out something direct some day. Let's see about that :) Anywho, I think Pretty's gonna end with this and one more chapter. I think that'd be pretty swell. Happy reading!

IT masterlist

main masterlist

gif credit goes to owners, which isn’t me!

“Hey, uh, Brooke Shields--” Richie started to say. Y/N lifted her head to him, a little carelessly, but ready to listen to whatever he's got to say. “Sorry, Y/N.” He added then, and Y/N smiles, her eyes closing. They were alone in the Denbrough kitchen. Bill, Eddie and Stanley were cleaning the rest of the house while Richie was put on kitchen duty. The boys had had a sleepover, in which Y/N also participated in, and Bill had already made them promise they'd help him with cleaning everything up afterwards. And Y/N had wandered into the kitchen while Richie was still there.

“I don't mind. I kinda like the nickname.” Y/N shrugged. “Something you wanted to say?”

“Yeah, uh... “ Richie looked down. “No, nevermind, I shouldn't.”

Y/N walked over to Richie and put her hand on his shoulder. “It's okay. You can… You can trust me. What's wrong?”

“I know we're not the best of friends, I don't know if I should.” The boy says. “I mean, I just… It's not right - what I want to say, I…”

Y/N sat the boy down at the kitchen counter and then took a seat next to him. She leaned her back against the counter so she'd be facing Richie. “Take your time. We've got plenty.” She told him and patiently waited.

“I just… Just promise me you won't tell anyone. Anyone at all.” Richie looked into her eyes very strongly. Y/N nodded, but furrowed her eyebrows. She's a little wary of what he wanted to say.

“I won't tell anyone.”

“Okay, uh…” Richie looked down again and sighs. He opened his mouth to speak, but then closed it. “Jeez, I'm such a pussy, I can't even say words.”

“Richie, it's okay. You can relax around me, I'm not judging.” Y/N assured him. “Tell me.” She said softer.

“Well, alright, I'll do my best. God, I never say such things.” Richie breathed in sharply. “Um, okay. Okay, I… I think I might have… I might like, I definitely might like Eddie.” He finally said, his voice quieter than before, and felt like a horribly heavy stone had fallen off his heart. He breathed deeply, remembering that he can actually breathe, and for a moment Y/N even thought he'd be having an asthma attack.

“You like him?” Y/N echoed quietly. Richie nodded, but hesitantly and shamefully, and he took off his glasses. He put them down on the counter in front of him. Richie rubbed his eyes. “Hey, hey, don't you cry.” Y/N's hand was once again on Richie's shoulder and she moved her thumb back and forth to give him some sort of soothe. “It's okay to have feelings. It's okay.” Richie sighed shakily. “For how long do you think you've liked him?”

“I don't--I don't know exactly.” Richie said. “Is it really okay? I mean I'm… I've never met someone… I don't even know if I am…”

“Richie, it is okay.” Y/N said. “It's totally human. We love who we love. And there's nothing wrong with that. It's love.” She shrugged. “Does anyone else know?”

“No!” Richie almost shouted, contradictory to his rule about keeping his voice down. Y/N visibly tensed up at his outburst. “Sorry. No, nobody else knows. I'm scared for anyone to know.”

“Wouldn't you want to trust Stanley with this? He's your best friend. If you don't wanna tell Eddie, which I understand very well.”

“I don't know… That's true, yeah, but… I don't know. He might look at me different. And you might.”

“Well, I don't.” Y/N stated confidently. “You're still the same Richie.” She told him.

“Thanks.” Richie said. “How do you have so much wisdom at fifteen-years-old? You're some sort of witch… Y/N the Wise.”

Y/N laughed. “Thanks, Richie.” There's a pause. “Don't be ashamed of your feelings, alright? It's harder to do than to say, but… They're normal feelings. You're not a freak or anything.”

Richie nodded and sniffed. He put his glasses back on and he turned his head to the kitchen entrance door. Someone had just entered through it.

“Hey, Rich, did you clean everything yet? We're thinking of going to the Arcade.” It was Eddie. “Oh, hey, Y/N.”

Y/N remembers very well how scared, but in awe Richie looked at that moment. His eyes had fallen on the first and only love of his life. And for a moment, the Trashmouth was silent. He took a long look upon Eddie before becoming his usual self again.

She looks at the boy now grown up into a man. All boys and Beverly still look like kids in Y/N's eyes, it's so strange to see them again. Bill she had met frequently during this twenty-seven years period, but her brother doesn't carry any significant change in appearance or otherwise.

It's truly strange to see Bill's friends grown up. Y/N can barely believe her eyes. And she wonders where's Stanley. Is he late? Is he not coming? Has something happened to him along the way? But she tries to keep these questions out of her mind, figuring they worry her too much and keep her away from the people actualy present.

Richie looks the same, she could say. He's just… Ah, but he's different. Seems like this contradiction fits all the Losers. Richie's still his old self, and Y/N's glad he hasn't changed. She's sitting between him and Eddie, and at first she thought it'd be torture, but it's funny sitting between the two. They still bicker, they still cuss at each other, but they still joke around, as well. That's what makes sitting between them so fun.

And when she remembers her and Richie's conversation in the Denbrough kitchen all those years ago, she suddenly feels strange sitting between Richie and his first crush. And she feels so much love and support for Richie, just like she did when they were kids. She's so proud of him. He's grown up well and has made a name for himself, and he's still the same Richie. The same funny, but deeply caring Richie Tozier she remembers knowing as one of her brother's friends. The boy who always gave everyone nicknames and covered his anxieties with comedy.

Richie notices her looking at him longingly and glances at her. “What is it, Shields?” Richie asks and Y/N laughs, holding her belly. She shakes her head, still giggling, and only smiles fondly at Richie. He has once again used the nickname he gave her as a teenager. It's a reference to her extreme resemblance to the actress Brooke Shields. Every teenage boy in the 1980's loved her and wished to have a girl like her in their arms, including, for a while, Richie and his friends.

“I only remembered something.” She says and reaches for her beer.

“What? About what?”

“Your mom.”

The Losers burst into laughter when Trashmouth gets silenced by Y/N using his own joke, the loudest one being Eddie. Someone's got back at Trashmouth finally! Richie instead sits at the table trying to suppress his smile. The alcohol makes him a little sheepish. Richie's proud that Y/N's outdone him, but he's embarrassed, too, and won't admit it. He feels embarrassment for one of the few times in his life.

“Oh man, Shields, I thought I could trust you.” Richie states, shaking his head, which only makes Y/N laugh harder. “You traitor.”

“You'll get back at me in no time, I bet.” She replies and pats Richie's shoulder. This gesture brings back a forgotten memory to Richie. A forgotten, or perhaps, gladly hidden away conversation he had with Y/N a long time ago. Or maybe it's just a made-up dream. No, it feels like a memory. Just like the one where he and Big Bill went to the house on Neibolt Street. Or Henry Bowers calling him Trashmouth.

Richie suddenly looks away from her and instead glances at Eddie sitting next to her. But he looks at the man for only half a second. He fears that looking at him will somehow expose Richie. He can't explain this feeling, but it's strong enough to make him stare into table in front of him, and not at any of his friends.

The dinner came to a close soon, a terror thrown by a row of fortune cookies being the closing act and scaring the bejesus out of everyone for the rest of the evening. And the mystery that came out of the little papers ate away at Y/N's mind. Though she wants to stay focused on it and listen to what Beverly can get from calling Stanley himself, she also wants to speak to Richie. To both take her mind off the worries and to remind him of something.

“Hey, Rich,” she tugs on his arm and Richie immediately turns around to her, stopping in his tracks. Eddie turns for a second, as well, wondering what's the matter, but soon joins the others going outside, leaving Y/N and Richie in the lobby.

“Yeah?” Richie asks, seemingly clueless about what Y/N could want to say. Something about Stanley? Does she know if anything's happened?

But Y/N only embraces him. Well, she does her best to embrace the six foot tall Richie while being not so tall herself. He furrows his eyebrows at the gesture, but he wraps his arms around her in response and lets his head fall on her shoulder. Even if his face is still scrunched in confusion and his mind wanders to all the possibilities that could have led to this hug.

“I saw the look in your eyes at the table.” She tells him, and she even laughs, relieved. A proud tear escapes her eyes. “You still like him, don't you?” Y/N then pulls back to see the certainty in Richie's eyes. He turns his head slightly, not catching onto her at first. But then he gets it, and he understands the memory that came back earlier better.

“Eddie?” He whispers and quickly glances over his shoulder to see if the mentioned person is anywhere near them. He's standing outside and waving at Richie and Y/N, waving them over to the rest of the group. Richie huffs and looks back at Y/N. “It's so weird, Y/N, that… That I feel everything coming back so suddenly. Eddie, you guys, my whole childhood… And…”

“And the feeling's strong, right?” Y/N finishes, and Richie nods. She smiles wide, another proud tear making its way out on her cheek. “God, Richie, it's so wonderful. You should… Maybe you should finally tell him.”

To this Richie's face twists in the opposite feeling of pleasure, and he wants to shake his head. But then he thinks, hey, maybe I should. No. No way. He probably doesn't even--

“Come on, take the risk.” Y/N whispers and nods. “Who knows how many of us are coming out of this alive? What can you lose?”

“Y/N, I could lose everything. My whole childhood with him, and my best friend with that. I don't know what he'd tell me back!” Richie panics. “If he'd have anything to say…”

Y/N realises it's not so easy for Richie, after all. It's not easy at all. She sighs quietly. “I don't want to push it on you, but you know… The feelings are true, Richie.” She states. “And they're beautiful feelings. I hope you don't feel ashamed by them.”

Richie huffs again and looks around for a brief moment, panic in his eyes still, but calmer now. “It's really hard not to.” He tells her. “God, I remember how I told you... Only you. No one else knows, right?” Y/N shakes her head. “Oh, God, okay, good.” Richie breathes deeply.

“I was really the only one you told?”

Richie nods. “Yes.” He pauses. “Thank you.” He tells her and pulls her small form into another hug, and his strong hold almost crushes her bones. But Y/N loves this hug, she loves the feeling she's now getting from Richie. “Thank you for that. For everything, really. You always had the right words to say.”

“Maybe we are best friends, after all.” Y/N tells him and chuckles. Richie gives a shakier chuckle in response.

“Don't you underestimate that, Shields, we're definitely best friends.” He pulls back from her and then turns towards the door. Y/N smiles so proudly at Richie, feeling as though she might burst from pride. “Let's go outside and get the hell out of here.” Richie suggests. Y/N nods, though hesitantly, wanting to see what her brother thinks in terms of leaving or staying before she makes up her own mind, but follows Richie out the door anyway.

Their friends seem to be in a sort-of shocked stance, all of them, and when Richie and Y/N see their friends, it confuses and scares them. What has happened?

“Guys, why the long faces?” Richie asks, and Y/N chuckles at the humorous question. Beverly turns to the smiling Y/N, and so do the rest of her friends.

They know what kind of impact the news they've got will have on Y/N, and they feel so sorry for her. They hesitate to talk. They hesitate because none of them really want to hurt her. She would never live through it, Ben thinks, but Bill, instead, is sure of it. He knows his sister like the back of his hand. The news will kill her. He probably holds the most concern in his eyes when he looks at her, deeply wishing she wouldn't have to face this terrible truth.

And maybe it's some sort of sibling connection, maybe not, but Y/N looks at Bill first. “What's happened?” She asks carefully, scared of what she will get in response.

Bill gulps and glances at Beverly. They're asking each other who will be the bearer of bad news. Bill huffs. And his eyes tell Beverly that he can't do it. So Beverly looks down for a moment, readying herself for what she will say and how Y/N could react, and then looks straight into Y/N's eyes. She looks at Bev then, wondering what's that strange look on her face. As if she'd seen a ghost, or looked straight into death's pitless eyes.

“Honey, Stanley's…” Beverly gulps, “Stanley's dead.”

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#har-rison-s writes #har-rison-s writings #har-rison-s work #stanley uris x reader #stanley uris imagine #the losers club imagine #the losers club imagines #the losers club x reader #richie tozier imagine #richie tozier x reader #it chapter two imagine #it chapter two imagines

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trickkombowerskru · 5 years ago

Text

Welcome Back-Henry Bowers Imagine

Request: Anonymous: Can you do an imagine where the reader was apart of the losers club and when they come back to kill pennywise she see's henry and is like really mad at him for all the stuff he did but like still happy to see him after all that time

A/N: I am so sorry for the long wait, thank you for being so patient with me anon. 💕 Also this unintentionally turned into like 25% a Reddie fic near the end that wasn’t the intention, but that’s just where it went

Warnings: Angst and Slight canon divergence obviously

It felt strange being back in Derry, especially considering the circumstances were anything but welcoming. The air was thick with an unspoken tension and while you were elated to see your friends again after all this time, the unknowing doom you would soon face was hard not to think about. That along with finding out about what happened to Stan, it was almost too much.

You were in your room playing with your token for the ritual, it was a necklace, one you had once promised you'd never take off. It was a simple necklace just with a single fake red stone in the middle of it. And boy after some of those memories coming back to you did you need a drink, but before you could get one Eddie came bolting out of the bathroom with blood spurting from his cheek.You along with Bev, Ben, and Richie rushed over to him, trying to stop the bleeding.

"Holy shit!"

"Uh guys Bowers is in my room."

And just like that the pin on the grenade was pulled and every single memory flooded back, and hit like a tidal wave.

"You guys patch Eds up, I know how to handle him."

"You handled him alright," Richie quips

"Rich just shut the fuck up and help him okay."

Richie snickers to himself, shaking his head as Bev attempts to calm Eddie down.As you rush into the bathroom, you take a deep breath, not sure if you're ready for what lies inside.The sound of the door opening wider catches Henry's attention.He looks at you wide eyed, paying no mind to the knife that was now in his stomach.

You could see his face contort almost like he was at war with his mind before blinking a few times and coming out of whatever trance like state he was in before. Probably the same one that fucker had him under when you were kids.

"Y......Y/N?" Henry questions in a tone of awe and hurt.

"Hey."

"You um you got a little...."

He looks down at the knife.

"Oh shit!"

He quickly pulls it out, ripping off a piece of shower curtain for a makeshift bandage. Looking into those deep blue eyes of his made you feel like you were 13 again. With those memories came all of the feelings, feelings of anger for all the shit he put your friends through, feelings of empathy from the times you've seen his soft side, and mainly feelings of shock that he was even still alive.

Not knowing what else yo do you wrap your arms around him. It catches him off guard, making him stumble for a moment before reciprocating it. You and Henry's history was complicated to say the least. You were never fully together, publicly at least but you sure sneaked around with him. He was nearly your first everything, first boyfriend, first date, first kiss, had everything not gone down that summer eventually he probably would've been your first time too.

"I'm pissed you stabbed Eddie in the face, but shit I'm so glad you're okay. I mean fuck I thought you were dead."

"Might as well have been. Getting thrown into that shithole."

He sees your look of confusion

"After the fuckin' clown messed with my head, I got blamed for his shit when they found the old fatfuck's body, they chucked me into the damn loony bin. I've been stuck in there all this time, until the clown came back, made me go wild again and helped me escape with a damn zombie version of Hockstetter."

"Oh my God."

"Yeah. Good to see somethings never change though," he smiles at you when he sees the necklace on.

"You could say that," chuckling while eyeing his mullet.

"Come on let me take you to my room. I'll actually get you patched up properly, and talk them into letting you stay we're back to kill that fucking thing once and for all and God knows you've got more than enough reasons to help."

When he removes his shirt you can't help but let your eyes travel down to his abs, it's amazing that he's stayed in such good shape while in there. He hisses as you apply some antiseptic before applying the bandage. There's a comfortable silence between the two of you before he breaks it.

"I-uh...I saw you on some magazines and shit when I was there. You some fancy model now huh Darlin'?"

Hearing that nickname come from him again sets your heart on fire, "Yeah. I do some modeling here and there."

Once he's fully patched up you head downstairs where you see that Bev and Richie took care of Eddie...well really Eddie probably took care of himself. Richie cuts in mid explanation.

"Uh uh no way. No fucking way can he stay here. How do we know he won't go off the deep end and slit our throats in our sleep?"

"Richie please! I promise I'll make sure that doesn't happen. I mean he has more of a reason than any of us to want IT dead. That thing ruined his entire life!"

"Yeah and he used to ruin ours."

"Rich....come on. Besides tell me you wouldn't feel safer with him on our side for once."

Richie bites his tongue and sighs sighs knowing you're right.

"Fine.....fine, but if he kills me in my sleep you're paying for my funeral.", Richie concludes making you roll your eyes.

"Well don't give me a reason to wanna kill you Trashmouth and you won't have anything to fuckin' worry about," Henry sasses back, getting a slight laugh from the rest of the group.

That night for the first time in a while since before you even came back here you slept soundly, Henry holding you in his arms, had the circumstances not been what they were, there would be an almost peaceful vibe that night. The next day you explained the plan to Henry and were off.

Now after literally almost being crushed to death and Henry almost getting beaten to death by his father, you two saved each other and were on the way with the rest of the gang to as Richie put it "Kill this fucking clown.

You were all fighting with all your might, when you got thrown against a wall, regaining strength just in time to look up and see Eddie get impaled by one of IT's claws.

"Eddie!," you scream in horror as you watch the claw come out at his barley alive body limply fall to the ground. You quickly run over with the rest of them, watching Richie desperately try to stop the bleeding and save him, and hearing him weakly let Richie know he has something to tell him.

"I fucked your mom."Richie lets out a broken chuckle, before his face falls as Eddie's breathing shallows even more.

He begs him to hold up while you all once and for all get rid of that thing. Mike ripping out IT's heart and crushing it. You all gather up at the quarry, after Richie had to be dragged away from the crumbling Neibolt house and you notice your scars faded away. Henry kept his distance as the rest of you comforted him.

That night as you were packing everything was set, you had paid off the asylum, and Henry would be coming with you back to your place the next day, Ben and Beverly were off together as well, Bill was going back to his place, and Mike would be making the prep to finally go and see Florida.

Your heart broke thinking of how Richie was going back alone, whether he would tell you or not because you were like the group therapist back then you knew how much he loved Eddie, how he would've done anything to have been able to bring him back to LA with him and get him out if being married to his mother.

Once you drifted off to sleep this weird feeling you had earlier intensified and in your dream you saw it. You saw the Neibolt house crumble down with Eddie's body inside, but then the strangest thing happened.

You saw Eddie slowly breathing again, before coming to full consciousness, and freaking out about being trapped underground. You heard him crying about how he probably really would die down there because you all thought he was dead anyway. And you could feel your heart wrench at the thought. Before anyone left that next morning you told them all about your dream.

Once again you all trekked back to the now empty sight of the house with shovels in hand,ready to hopefully rescue Eddie. You dug and dug for hours before Richie started crying saying it was probably just hopeless and that Eddie was really gone.

You were going to agree until Ben threw his shovel back and you could hear something and it sounded like Eddie extremely muffled you keep digging and sure enough Eddie's arm can be seen. Once you have enough dirt out of the way you all pull him up.

"Eds!," Richie exclaims practically clings onto him before you join up into a group hug.

Richie turns to you, the tears now being happy ones.

"Thank you."

You smile and nod as you all laugh at Eddie going right back to being annoyed at Richie for calling him 'Eds' like nothing changed. The entire way back you laugh as Eddie goes on about how filthy he is and how there "Is dirt in places where there shouldn't be dirt."

Once Eddie gets cleaned up and you all finish packing, you part ways, Richie finally having the guts to confess and Eddie more than feeling the same way heading out with him. You smile watching them walk out, but before you leave, Henry moves his hands to have a grip on your hips.

"Henry what are doing?""Soemthin' I've been wantin' to do again for all these years."

One of his hands moves to cup your face and he kisses you, you kiss back and once again it felt like nothing had changed, it felt as perfect as you remember it did. And now with Henry here to stay you could have those perfect moments as much as you wanted.

#it 2017 #it chapter 2 #the bowers gang #henry bowers #henry bowers imagine #henry bowers x reader #nicholas hamilton #teach grant

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eddykaspbraks · 5 years ago

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so for the like handful of people who might be interested, i found the old epilogue of just be still with me, and since it’s for sure not getting used in anything now, i thought i would share it!! just eddie and richie getting the call together and remembering and being cute.

They’re curled up, watching old episodes of SNL until they fall asleep. Eddie’s got his head on Richie’s chest, Richie’s arm around his shoulders, his other hand playing with Eddie’s engagement ring.

“Are you feeling more Kaspbrak-Tozier or Tozier-Kaspbrak?”

Eddie snorts, but he’s cut off as the phone rings. It’s Richie’s cell, sitting on the bedside table.

Richie sighs, and Eddie tugs at his shirt. “Just don’t answer it,” he says. “They can wait til tomorrow.”

“Could be news about that audition last week, I’ve gotta see.” Richie kisses the top of Eddie’s head and then pulls his arm away to lean over and grab the phone. The number on the screen is - well. It’s a number. But a lot of production companies and directors call Richie when they’re not in his contacts.

Richie pulls Eddie back against him before he answers, and puts the phone to his right ear so Eddie can hear, even though it sounds tinny and distant.

“Hello?”

“Richie Tozier? This is Bill Denbrough.”

“Sorry buddy, I think you’ve got the wrong-“

“Richie, wait,” Eddie says, rubbing at his eyes under his glasses. He sits up a little.

The voice on the phone says, softly, “Is that Eddie there with you?”

Richie’s brow furrows, and he looks at Eddie. “Who is this?”

“Put me on speaker first.”

There’s something prying at the back of Eddie’s mind, something he’s not sure he wants to deal with. It feels like there’s a door back there, and something is pounding its way out. He reaches out and grabs Richie’s hand, and Richie holds his hand just as tightly. Something’s wrong. They both know it.

Richie does as Bill asks and moves the phone away, puts it on speaker. “Okay,” he says, and he looks up to make eye contact with Eddie.

“It’s Bill. Bill Denbrough. From Derry. Do you r-remember?”

Eddie abruptly closes his eyes, and several things come rushing back too him all at once - more than he really wants to deal with. The biggest thing, though, the most important thing - Richie.

He opens his eyes again and Richie’s still looking at him, but wide-eyed. Wide-eyed behind his glasses, because they’re at home and it’s late, and his eyes look even bigger behind his glasses, and. Oh.

“Oh come on, Eddie Spaghetti.”

“You’re really still gonna call me that? We’re in high school!”

Richie smiled and ruffled Eddie’s hair. “You look so cute when you’re mad, Eds, can’t resist it.”

Eddie fought the urge to blush and just shoved at Richie instead. “You’re the worst. I mean that.”

“You wound me, Eds.” Richie put a hand to his heart dramatically and widened his eyes behind his glasses - it made them look even bigger. Eddie wished he didn’t find it so endearing.

“When you do that with your eyes you look like a fish. Like one of those goldfish with a fucking horrible condition. I just hope that you know that.”

Blinking, Eddie’s pulled back to the present by Richie placing a hand on his face. Eddie leans into the touch and closes his eyes.

“Bill, buddy,” he hears Richie say. “I really think we’re gonna have to call you back, we’ve got some-”

“I called you for a reason. You c-can’t hang up yet. It’s back, Richie.”

Eddie’s eyes open again.

“It?” Richie asks.

“It, Richie. Eddie. You both r-r-remember?”

“It,” Eddie whispers, and there it is. That awful sensation, that creeping feeling he gets in his spine, the phantom pain in his arm, the tightening in his chest, the feeling that he should have an inhaler, where’s his inhaler, oh god he did have an inhaler.

“Look at me, Eddie, look at me!”

“Rich,” Eddie whispers, and he leans forward and pulls Richie close, wraps his arms around him.

“Yeah, I. I think we remember, Bill.”

Eddie would think he’s never heard Richie sound like that, that scared or shaken, but now he remembers. There was something else in Derry - something there that made them both feel like this, sound like this. There’s a reason they forgot.

“Will you come?” Bill asks.

Eddie wants to say no. He wants Richie to say no. He wants them both to stay here, safe in this house, their house. He wants to hang up on Bill and forget it all again.

But they promised.

“We’ll come,” he whispers quietly.

Richie runs a hand through his hair, and Eddie pulls back enough to look at him. “Yeah, we’ll come.”

They hear Bill hang up, and they’re alone again.

Terrifying clown monster aside, Eddie can still remember how he felt just the moment before that. The moment before Mike reminded them of It, and all he remembered were the good things. When all he remembered were all the teenage years he spent head over heels in love with Richie Tozier.

It’s still scary, though, isn’t it? Scary that somehow, he’d forgotten.

“Richie. How... How did we forget?”

“I don’t know, Eds,” Richie says quietly. He pushes Eddie’s hair back from his face, then gently removes his glasses. Eddie takes off Richie’s glasses as well. “It’s probably got something to do with... It. With that thing.”

“Do you... do you remember that day at Neibolt Street?”

“When that thing nearly killed you?”

Eddie smiles a little at how angry Richie still is. God, Richie. The fact that they ended up here, still together after all that. “The day you snapped my arm back into place. You nearly carried me out of the house, too, but I... I meant when you found me. You and... Bill, oh Christ. And Bev, Bev attacked it, and you... You came over to me and you made me look at you. You had your hand on my face. You told me to look at you. I thought... I thought you were gonna be the last thing I saw before we all got eaten by that fucking thing.”

Richie rubs his thumb against Eddie’s cheek. “For me that was... sort of the point.”

“God, Richie,” Eddie says, his voice thick with emotion, and he leans forward to press their lips together. They kiss, and linger there, lips moving against each other. They break apart for just a moment, and then kiss again. “I’ve been in love with you all this time - all that time. Ever since I was 12, maybe younger, God knows how long. This whole time.”

Richie nuzzles against him, kisses his cheek, then his jaw. “We... We kissed in high school. Do you remember? And we were... We were almost something, right before you left. Before you moved. Do you remember that?”

“That last month. We spent all our time together. Of course I remember.”

“Richie, we have to be careful.”

“That’s the whole point of coming out here to the quarry, Eds. Nobody comes out here anymore, we don’t have to be careful.”

Stargazing and hand-holding, dates at the Capitol where they would hide in the back row to sneak kisses. It had been a good last month.

Only it hadn’t been their last after all. Here they were.

Eddie pulls Richie close again and presses his face against his neck. “Do you think... do you think any of the others managed this? Managed to... find each other?” Eddie asks.

“I don’t know. I’m glad we did. Somehow. This is... I mean it’s fucking ridiculous, but it’s good.” Eddie snorts, and he knows Richie is smiling. “I love you, Eds. Don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Eddie pulls back and looks at Richie, but he can’t keep the smile off his face. “I love you, too. But I still hate it when you call me that.”

“Sure you do.” Richie leans in to kiss him again, and in that moment, Eddie feels safe again - but he knows it won’t last for long.

When they separate again, Eddie sighs and leans forward to press their foreheads together. “We should book tickets for Derry. Or... however you wanna get there. Should we fly?”

“We could drive. Take about half the day tomorrow, but we could... You know. Take our time. Together. The flight would be short.”

Eddie nods against Richie. “I’ll get someone to take over driving this week. We can take one of the cars. What about you?”

Richie shrugs. “Doesn’t matter if I get fired if we don’t come back, does it?”

Pulling back abruptly, Eddie bumps his nose against Richie’s forehead somehow on the way. “Don’t. Don’t say that. We’re not - that’s not gonna happen. We’ve gotta - Rich. We’re staying together. Nothing’s gonna happen to us.”

“Together,” Richie says quietly, and he seems to relax a little.

“We should try and get some sleep.”

“You think that shit’s gonna work?”

“I said try, asshole. Come on. Let’s just... lie down. We can talk. At least we’re not... It’s not like we have to do this alone.”

They lie down, and they don’t even try the pretense of lying down separately. Eddie puts his head against Richie’s shoulder, and their arms are around each other, and even their legs are intertwined. They’re both trembling. Eddie wants to focus on the good memories - it’s the best distraction he can think of.

“You remember the time we went to see that terrible Nightmare on Elm Street movie - the. God. The sixth one? And you’d kiss me every time you got scared?” Eddie whispers.

“Pretty sure you were the one getting scared, Eds. I was just trying to comfort you.”

“Comfort yourself, more like it.”

They whisper back and forth like that, remembering everything they can, and eventually they do both drift off - Richie first, thank god, so Eddie can watch him sleep, and listen to him breathe, and he finally feels calm enough to fall asleep himself.

#reddie #just be still with me #reddie fic

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peter-pantomime · 5 years ago

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IT Fic Recs

Richie/Eddie

the years go by like days

It’s Eddie he wants to get a hold of, though, and he does, tucking him under his arm, and ruffling his hair, making him laugh. He’s startled when Eddie looks at him with such happy, shining eyes. And, for a split-second, he’s tempted to kiss him right then, right there in front of everyone.

He wants to. Badly. He doesn’t.

He leans in, instead, and he smacks a loud, wet kiss to Eddie’s cheek, punctuating it with a “mwah!” He does it again and again. “I’m so proud of my little Eds Spagheds!”

“Get off me!” Eddie says, laughing and shoving him away, swatting at his hands.

AU. in the 27 years in-between, Richie and Eddie forget a lot, but they don't forget each other.

just be still with me

Eddie Kaspbrak is 38, working as a driver in New York. Richie Tozier is a stand up comic who comes to New York on a one way ticket to audition for SNL, and his agent has hired Eddie as his driver. There's something familiar about Richie, though Eddie knows they've never met. While Richie insists on sitting in the front seat and making something more than small talk, Eddie struggles to maintain professional distance.

Basically - what if Eddie and Richie did forget, and didn't see each other for 25 years, but they fell in love anyways.

If You Believe

What if Eddie held on just a little bit longer? What if the losers figured out how to kill it just a little bit earlier? What if Eddie made it out of Neibolt, injured and barely holding on, but alive?

When Eddie emerges from the cavern to see Richie floating, he just about shits himself.

hit me baby one more time

Richie reaches up a shaking hand and puts it on Eddie’s stomach.

“Uhhh,” Eddie says. “Is this a bit? Is this a really inopportune bit? ‘Cause I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Richie, but this is kind of an important moment-”

“What the fuck,” Richie says, not for the first or last time, and lurches forwards to hug him.

(Or, Richie gets stuck in a time loop.)

in the morning

Beverly knows there’s something going on with Richie. The way he had lost it, the way he had cried—she’s not sure if he would ever cry like that for her, or Bill, or even Stan. He had always been particular about Eddie. She pets his hair back again and rests her head on top of his, sighing and closing her eyes. Maybe it’s nothing. Maybe it’s more than she thinks. Either way, she’s sure he’ll say eventually. Richie’s never been good at keeping secrets.

This Is the Way It Ends

An AU in which everything is the same, except Reddie disappear to have sex through most of the plot points and Eddie doesn't have to die to save the day.

Love Me Like You Do

“I need you hear you say it.”

“I want it,” Eddie says back. He’s surprised by his own words, how concrete they sound, how they break through the wall of nerves that’s shrouded over him.

Richie, in all of his confident-not-confidence, leans down and kisses Eddie. It’s gentle at first, the rough chap of his lips barely grazes Eddie’s over moisturized ones but the electricity rockets down his spine and bursts into tiny electrodes all over his body. He immediately leans up, chases Richie’s retreating form and captures him in a kiss that Eddie never knew he was capable of giving.

Men of Fall

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

put it all aside and hold me tight

"I'm not sad," he lies. He thinks of how his hands had trembled after he'd gotten the phone call from Mike, the foul taste of bourbon and breath mints and his own bile in his throat. Every morning he's alone, even when he isn't. He isn't afraid, except for when he is. And he isn't sad, not really, but he is.

Not that it's any of Eddie's business.

Eddie's gaze feels like it goes right through him. There's little Richie hates more than being read, especially when it's by Eddie — there's always a split second of bone-deep terror that whispers he knows. It's familiar, something that goes way back to childhood. Still just as shit-your-pants terrifying.

Or: After the reunion dinner from hell, Richie and Eddie have a long overdue conversation about, like, feelings and shit.

up off the floor

"In a world where we can kill a fucking clown from space, Eddie Kaspbrak doesn’t get to die from a stab wound."

still it’s so

Beverly screamed when she saw them. Then she covered her mouth with her hands and just stared, tears standing bright in her eyes. Bill stood up so fast his armchair jumped back, and beside him Mike did the same. Ben got up slower, a painfully hopeful look on his face.

“Surprise!” Richie said. “We lived!”

Things that Happen after Eddie Lives

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

swallow your heart

When he’s 24, at least once per night, Richie has what he would describe as an erotic nightmare. He never actually has sex in these dreams, nor does he die or even get seriously maimed. But they’re still definitely erotic, and they’re definitely nightmares.

Prompt: "I swallow your heart and it crawls right out of my mouth."

With a boulder on my shoulder

Feelin' kinda older.

Or, Eddie Kaspbrak has his fifteenth birthday party.

we’ve been migratory animals

As they reach the town limits, he sees the sign up ahead: You are now leaving Derry. A thrill shudders through him — they’re out. Things will be different now, no more deadlight-visions swallowing him up inside. Richie rolls down his window, and before anyone can do more than look at him quizzically, he unbuckles his seatbelt, lifts himself up out of his seat somewhat, and leans out the window to flip the sign off. “Fuck you!” he bellows. The wind whips his hair into his eyes, and he lets out a slightly manic laugh. Then he feels hands grabbing at his shirt, and Eddie is yanking him back into the car.

Or, the Losers take a road trip to Florida, and Richie's having nightmares from the deadlights that he can't seem to shake.

if the children don’t grow up

Richie Tozier dreams, sometimes, of heat soaking through the soles of his sneakers from the July tarmac in the town where he grew up, the name of which he can’t quite remember when he’s awake, and of someone small and warm and familiar pressed up against him everywhere.

(Some scenes from a life – Richie and Eddie at 40 and at 13 (and beyond) and at 40 again.)

Richie Tozier Versus The Flu

“His parents don’t take care of him,” Eddie had told Bill, shaking his head, “He’s probably holed up in his room with a flop sweat, and neither of his parents have ever been bothered to help him. We should go see him.”

“G-Go see him?” Bill asked, alarmed, “I d-don’t mind, b-b-but I thought you’d n-never -”

“He’s sick! Richie’s sick, Bill,” Eddie insisted, thinking Bill was not nearly as upset as he ought to be, “Richie’s sick, and no one’s gonna take care of him, if we don’t.”

last ones out

Richie wonders if it’s always been this hard for him to touch Eddie. It hasn’t; they were incredibly touchy as kids, falling all over each other, gangly limbs intertwined. Even as adults, a few days before, Richie had barely been able to keep his hands off of him. Eddie almost dying did something, though. Chipped away at something deep within Richie. From the bed, Eddie laughs.

Talk So Pretty (And Love So Sweet)

Eddie was going to kill him one day, in his lace and crop tops and knee high socks.

Let’s Hear It for the Boy

“Oh, before I forget- keep this one.”

He pulled a tape from his bag that he hadn’t played yet, and Eddie took it with a look of distrust on his face. It had his name scrawled across the label in Richie’s awful handwriting- looked more like it said Edota on it- but the thing that caught his attention was the very obviously scribbled out heart in front of his name.

“Welp,” He snapped his gum again. “I gotta go. See you later, babe. If you miss me when I’m gone, just listen to the tape. Plenty of gushy shit on there.”

June

He can’t handle being alone with Eddie anymore.

He squats next to Eddie, brings their faces close, and he looks at the freckles on Eddie’s cheeks, the familiar chestnut hair perfectly quaffed at his fringe, how long, and thick his eyelashes seem against his sunburnt cheeks.

He wants.

Desperately.

Blood Runs Cold

He wants to say the feeling in his gut is foreign, but the truth is it’s been flowering for years, vines twisting and growing in the pit of his stomach, just waiting for him to open his mouth so they can finally see the sun.

(or a short fic about Richie Coming out to Bevvie while they smoke in his room)

Show Me a Good Time

This wasn’t the first time that Richie had brought Eddie to one of his meetings. Meetings, used very loosely, meaning they were at a restaurant with however many Michelin stars, while his agent talked to him and whoever else decided to show up to the dinner. There were currently about eight of them, Eddie and Richie shoved into the corner of a booth, while someone told a story about their latest stent on tour. Lucky for Richie, the story actually happened to be good, because if not, well, they might have seen just how often Eddie was leaning over to whisper in his ear.

we’re f***ing killing it, babe

Richie has been back in Derry for three days and murdered an Eldritch horror-esque monster from space or possibly from some weird meta-verse, who knows, and faced both of his childhood fears of clowns and his own death, as well as the possibility of losing his first love just as he remembered they fucking existed, he’d like some slack cut for him on the emotional front, thank you!

Eddie is dead, but the Losers carry him out of the house on Neibolt anyway. Which is good, because Eddie is not dead.

Roads

Richie pulls out of the Orient parking lot first, and stares at the headlights of Eddie’s car in his rearview mirror.

The drive back to The Derry Townhouse is short, scary, and not well lit.

“It’s just Eddie,” he tells his reflection, trying to give himself a pep talk, but that’s the problem.

It’s Eddie.

Lakes

Ben holds Bev’s hand as they walk. Richie feels sick with grief, staggering along behind them, carrying Eddie’s dead, heavy body on his back.

Intro // Skydiving

Eddie Kaspbrak is ten years old. It's his first time at the quarry with his friends.

The descent feels like it lasts both for a few seconds and for eternity. Free fall is terrifying, but his hand is still latched onto Richie's, and it tethers him, makes him feel like he isn't just lost in space.

soul, I hear you calling

He catches a glimpse of himself, bruise-eyed and unshaven, in the bathroom mirror as he turns to leave, and that's when he sees Eddie Kaspbrak.

"At least wash your hands, you nasty fuck," Eddie says.

"Holy fucking shit," Richie screams.

Eddie comes back, sort of.

#IT #it chapter 2 #reddie #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #myficrecs #quarantine entertainment #quarantine fics #quarantine fics it

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bloodfart666 · 5 years ago

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GAY PENNY FLUFF YAAAAAASSSS!!!!

I got a request for an OC and Pennywise fluff from @treble-trilltrill @a-koffinkiller @jointheclxwn that I thoroughly enjoyed doing.

Pennywise sensed him before he even had walked thru the door frame. Cautious and still, Treble's gaze assessed the large room beyond the front door of 29 Neibolt street, catching every detail thru the gloom even with the lack of sunlight due to the current spring thunderstorm. Dust. And debris. Lots of it.

“You really should clean this place up a bit. At least I won’t feel bad for dripping.” Treble stepped out of the rain leaving trails and rivulets running on the faded carpet. “Well, you called?” his airy and light voice echoed off the walls, not high pitched, but languid in cadence and tone. Pennywise enjoyed that voice. It sounded like the rain that Treble loved so well.

“I have missed you.” The clown stepped out of the darkness, his hands splayed and facing outwards by his sides to show he was no threat. “I have missed you so very much.”

Treble’s face softened. “I’ve missed you too.” With no further hesitation he stepped forward. Pennywise widened his arms and crouched so that his chin rested atop Treble's head as the shapeshifter settled into his embrace, caring not one wit about the grey silk of his suit becoming drenched. In fact, this made it easier to feel the growing heat of Treble's body as his own raising comfort levels warmed his blood.

Pennywise closed his eyes and inhaled the shapeshifter's scent. Treble smelled of springtime. The misty life giving rain and delicate notes of honeysuckle bringing a sort of sweet peace to the ancient loneliness that permeated the recesses of his eldritch heart. He had only known destruction. Been destruction. Yet the scent of this planet’s ultimate creation brought him joy.

Standing tall yet keeping his arms around Treble, he gazed down into Treble's icy blue eyes.

“Come. Let’s sit, my precious. Tell Pennywise what is wrong.” The clown motioned towards a large davenport.

Pennywise sat back into the large soft cushions then jerked upright in surprise as Treble carelessly flopped onto the cushions next to him curling comfortably with his head in the clown's lap. Treble reached a hand over to toy with one of the tiny bells on the clown’s puffy trousers.

“Nothing is overtly wrong Penny. Just a bad day in general. I don’t really want to talk about it if that’s okay.” Pennywise nodded down to the shapeshifter, speechless for once, admiring the lines and details Treble's profile.

They sat like that for awhile. Treble watched the storm fade into the inky darkness of night while Pennywise watched how Treble’s chest rose and fell and how the fur around the collar of his jacket ruffled with his breathing. Treble’s jaw clenched several times and his eyes would occasionally harden as if he were remembering some stressor.

Pennywise broke the silence “Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?” the clown reached down to tenderly run the gloved fingers of his right hand thru Treble’s soft hair, enjoying the soft silky texture and the way it made Treble’s clean scent waft to the clowns nostrils. The fingers of his left hand began to trace around Treble’s cheekbones and temple.

“Ooooooooooo” exaggerating the sound Pennywise widened his currently azure blue eyes. “I could dance for you Trebbie! Would you like that? Would you like Pennywise to give you his best dance?”

Treble chuckled. “No thanks Penny. I’m fine. Really I am.” He rolled to his back facing up towards the clown. Azure met ice. And stayed. “You smell good Penny. Like carnival food.” Treble smiled. The way his eyes crinkled as he smiled was very pleasing to the clown.

Pennywise didn’t smile back. His gaze remained sombre and intense. His right hand continued to card thru Treble’s hair, bringing a continual stream of his intoxicating scent to the clowns nose. His left hand reached over to cup Treble’s cheek. His large hand nearly hid the entire side of Treble’s face as his long index finger traced Treble’s brow and his thumb grazed his bottom lip.

“You smell better.” This came out almost a growl.

Treble’s eyes widened in surprise and he inhaled sharply. This action made one of his fangs graze the clown's glove. This elicited a primal growl from Pennywise and Treble felt the clown's abdomen tighten at his side. The clown's eyes remained blue. Treble was not at all frightened. Something inside him knew this growl wasn’t defensive. His own abdomen tightened in response.

Pennywise grasped the shapeshifter’s shoulders and raised his upper body slowly, as if he were lifting something frail that could blow away any moment, while lowering his long face towards Treble.

Treble's body began to vibrate as Pennywise's growls changed to a staccato deep machine like popping rumble. The eldritch demon clown was purring!!

Pennywise lifted Treble’s face to his own and touched his lips to Treble's. Just barely. Not a kiss as his lips were relaxed, and inhaled deeply, causing latent interruptions in his purrs. As if he were trying to breathe the shapeshifter in. Then, with the lightest of touches, he ran his lips across his cheek to nuzzle into his hair. There were more occasional breaks in his purring as he snuffled in the pure scent he had been craving. Treble could feel the clowns hot breath in the shell of his ear. His eyelids fluttered closed and meaning to sigh he exhaled…….. and…… He trilled!

The purring stilled and Pennywise lifted his face to look upon Treble. His head slowly tilted as a single sharp eyebrow raised. His lips pursed in an O shape.

“Oh really now little one. What was that?”

Even with his body tight and hot Treble couldn’t help but laugh on the befuddled and quizzical expression on the clowns face. “Its just something I do when I’m really really happy. And you are absolutely adorable when your face looks like that.” Treble reached up to tap the clowns red nose. “Boop.”

Pennywise went slack jawed for several moments, in utter awe of the sly grin on Treble’s.

“Why you delectable little devil!” the purring spurred to life in full force as Pennywise crushed his lips to Treble’s. Growls mixed with purrs as the clowns tongue skillfully parted Treble’s lips to do battle with his tongue, scraping along his fangs as it did so.

Sighing Treble returned the kiss with passionate fervor. He reached his arms around the clowns neck to hold him close. He didn’t need to. Pennywise tangled his impossibly long arms around Treble, using a hand to cradle the shapeshifter's head and tilt it back to deepen the kiss.

As the storm subsided all that could be heard in that dark house at 29 Neibolt were sighs, rumbling purrs, and breathy trills.

#i didnt wanna steal anyones art to show you Treble but he's #fuggin gorgeous ya'll #gay pennywise #pennywise the dancing clown #pennywise #pennywise fanfiction #pennywise one shot #itchapter2 #it 2019 #it 2017 #original character

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cheekaspbrak · 6 years ago

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Turning Page

Summary: Richie knows that he fucks everything up, which is why courting Eddie is like walking on a tight rope.

Word Count: 1863

Pairing: Richie Tozier x Eddie Kaspbrak

Warnings: Cursing (duh), and mention of homophobia, and hopefully not anything else because i seem to be terrible at warnings lately

This was inspired by Turning Page by Sleeping At Last, so if you listen to it before/after it will make it even better. Please said requests, compliments, or criticisms because it makes me so happy when people read my stuff.

Richie fucked up a lot of things in his life. He’d lost count of the amount of times he’d ruined a perfectly good day by hurting someone’s feelings or doing something stupid. The group even had a way to shut him up when he was going too far: “Beep, beep, Richie.”

He knew perfectly well that he didn’t know when he was crossing lines. He knew that he steam-rolled over people and pissed them off in unimaginable ways and pushed them away with his crude humor. Which was why, when puberty hit and he started to realize that his platonic love for Eddie had turned into something much different, he became softer. He paid careful attention to his buttons and when he could push them and when he couldn’t. Eddie shared his sharp humor but he was sensitive about some things, and Richie wanted so badly to not fuck this up. If there was anything in this world that could shut him up, it was Eddie Kaspbrak.

It took him a long time to figure out. He always loved picking on Eddie by making jokes about his mom and sure, he was always a little more touchy feely with him than everyone else, but that was just what best friends do. Then It came along, and everything started to fall into place. In the worst moments, the ones where he was absolutely terrified, he felt himself gravitating towards Eddie. His hands, his eyes, his heart moved towards him out of terror, but only him. He would have used his whole body as a shield to protect the small, terrified boy next to him.

Then they went into the house on Neibolt Street. He could vividly remember the way he pushed Bev out of the way just to get to Eddie, who was on the ground, cradling his broken arm with his eyes wide as Pennywise crept towards them. The world felt like it stopped when he heard him scream “No, no no no! I don’t want to fucking die, Rich.” In that moment he was incredibly certain that, yes, they were going to die. Eddie tore his eyes away from the clown when Richie forcefully moved his head to look at him.

“Eddie, look at me! Look at me.”

He held his face in between his hands, probably hurting him as he tried twisting his vision back to It. He wanted Eddie to be looking at someone who cared about him when he died. He kept chanting look at me and cupping his cheeks even as the clown moved backwards, into the darkness. Eddie stopped straining to try and see Pennywise and complied with Richie’s chants.

When the dancing clown was no longer a concern Richie started to think about his behavior during all those terrifying times. He thought especially long and hard about how, in the middle of the horror and screaming going on around him, he cared about nothing but making sure Eddie knew he was there for him.

He did some experimenting, then. He held Bill’s hands and hugged Beverly and pinched Mike’s cheeks to see what it felt like, but nothing felt even close to the butterflies that erupted in his stomach when Eddie so much as sat next to him on the couch. He cuddled up next to Ben and Stan and only felt kind of awkward. The affection he once passed off as platonic was starting to seem more like romantic. Richie had always thought dating was stupid and marriage was a recipe for disaster but feeling the hole in his chest when he wasn’t around Eddie made him think that maybe love sometimes… wasn’t stupid.

That was when he realized that he couldn't fuck this up the way he fucked up everything else.

The group definitely noticed how he tiptoed around conversations now. He was still a jokester and just as obnoxious as before, but he was careful when it came to certain things. No one could pinpoint why, though, so they just assumed it was him getting older and finally getting a filter.

From Richie’s point of view, it was like playing a game. A game with really high stakes: if he lost, he lost everything he cared about. He’d already pissed Stan off in the past by pushing something too far, and it took him a long time to be okay with Richie again. But Eddie, he was stone cold, and forgiveness didn’t always come easily to him. He hoped that Eddie cared about him enough to where he wouldn’t push him out of his life forever, but he didn’t want to take any chances.

Then, he fucked everything up.

It was a normal night and everyone was hanging out in the pitch black park. Ben wanted to stargaze and while most of the group had turned their noses up at that, Bev called them all assholes because Ben did things with them that he didn’t particularly enjoy. So, there they were, lying on their backs side by side, stargazing. Richie was in between Eddie and Bev, trying to get them to see the way the stars lined up to look like a really weird dick.

Eddie had been distant all day, like he sometimes was. Richie never knew why, but when Eddie was like this he usually liked Richie’s jokes because they helped him get out of his head. Richie reached for his hand. Eddie didn’t look away from the stars, but hesitated for a moment before slipping his hand into Richie’s. He stared at him for a long time, admiring the way his profile looked and how good that shade of blue looked on him and how dorky he was with his dumb fanny pack on. He shifted and Richie looked away.

“That looks like your mom over there.” He used his other hand to point at a collection of stars.

“There’s no fucking way it looks like my mom.” Eddie rolled his eyes, refusing to look in the direction he was pointing.

“No seriously, I’ve studied Mrs. K’s body enough times to know what it looks like.”

“Gross, Rich.”

Eddie narrowed his eyes and pulled his hand away from Richie’s. Bill laughed at his incessant babbling.

He sensed that Eddie was more annoyed than amused, so he zipped his lips and turned his head to poke fun at his auburn haired friend instead. She giggled at his joke, but Eddie rolled his eyes again with a huff.

“You’re such a pain in the ass.”

“I bet you like it that way.” Richie responded, without missing a beat, and immediately regretted it. What was once mild annoyance turned into pure anger. Eddie sat up and looked down at Richie with disgust.

“Fuck you,” He spat. “You’re such a fucking asshole. Why can’t you just shut up?”

With that, he stood up and stalked off in the direction of a bench near the playground. Everyone sat up to look at him, but Richie turned towards Bev. She could see the desperation in his eyes. She knew that while Eddie was quite the badass, the things people said behind his back- particularly what they said about his sexual orientation- got to him. He hadn’t even come out as gay, and people still treated him like that. Today had been particularly awful when they were getting ready to leave school, with Bowers and his friends relentlessly picking on him, but Richie didn’t know that. She covered his hand with hers.

“It’s okay, go talk to him.”

Richie took off after him, nervously raking his hand through his hair. He approached the small boy sitting criss cross applesauce on the bench. He felt his heart thud at how cute he looked sitting that way.

“Eds, I’m sorry I-“

“Beep fucking beep, Richie.”

“Please,” He said with his voice barely above a whisper. “Just let me talk for a second.”

“That’s the problem!” Eddie exploded, hands flailing about wildly. “You can’t ever shut up! You just talk and talk and talk…”

Eddie continued on his rant but Richie barely could register anything else he was saying. He just shut down because all his brain could think was I fucked up oh god I fucked up he hates me he hates me.

“Eds,” he tried again, but Eddie interrupted.

“Don’t call me that.” He enunciated the last syllable and Richie felt like he was going to cry. He opened his mouth but all the words were stuck deep in his throat. Eddie briefly looked guilty before returning back to angry. Richie took a second to breathe and calm himself down because he needed to fix this.

“I’m so fucking sorry,” he started and surprisingly, there was no interruption. “I’m so stupid and I know that I ruin everything with my big mouth. But… but I love you so much Eds- I mean, Eddie. And I am trying so hard not to fuck this up.”

Eddie stared at him for a really long time. The only thing moving was his dark eyes, blinking steadily, until he uncrossed his legs and set his feet on the ground.

“You’re trying to not fuck what up?” He implored

“This.” Richie told him pointedly. He was taking a huge leap and god he hoped he wouldn’t fall on his face. “You’re so perfect and I’m such a goddamn mess but I’ll be damned if I don’t spend every second of the rest of my life trying to become the man who might just barely be good enough to deserve someone like you.”

This time Eddie stood up. His chest was rising and falling like he just ran a marathon and his hands were shaking and Richie briefly thought that maybe he should get his inhaler. Before he could do anything, though, Eddie was pulling on the collar of his shirt and kissing him like it was the only chance he would ever get. Richie was in absolutely shock, his stomach doing flips at how cute he looked with his eyes squeezed shut like that. And he totally knew it was weird to kiss with your eyes open but how could he take his eyes off of a sight like that? He stumbled forward a little when Eddie pulled back, not wanting the kiss to end.

“I’m sorry for yelling,” He said meekly, pausing for a moment, then adding, “Also please don’t stop calling me Eds.”

Richie knew that the adoration in his eyes must have been ridiculous, and probably only made worse by the magnification of his glasses, but he honestly didn’t care. Eddie spaghetti just fucking kissed him.

“I love you I love you Iloveyouiloveyouiloveyou,” Richie said as he wrapped his arms around him and shoved his face in the small boys hair. Eddie laughed and pressed his face against his chest.

“I love you too. You have always been good enough.” Richie choked on air at that but stayed perfectly still, not wanting Eddie to see the embarrassing tears of joy in his eyes.

The losers watched the two figures from across the park, cheering amongst each other and rolling their eyes at Bill who claimed he knew all along. No one said a thing when they came back and Eddie laid his head on Richie’s shoulder. They just enjoyed the stars.

#3 fics in 3 days????#what is wrong with me #im having so much fun #reddie #reddie imagine #reddie oneshot #reddie fanfic #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #eddie x richie #richie x eddie

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clown-bait · 5 years ago

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Monster Family (Monster Roommate AU) Ch6

Finally found some time to write! Things have been BONKERS with work and family Ive not had any time to my self. I want to still get stuff out though so heres a poor clown dealing with the aftermath of a night out. He’s not having a good day.

What the hell happened. Eons of existence and for the first time in his long life Pennywise could not for the life of him remember the night before. The clown's eyes creaked open and immediately shut them when the sudden skull splitting "headache" followed. The groan he released was absolutely pathetic.

"Look who’s finally rejoined the land of the living" he heard his pillow say.

"Where am I?" He snarled and held his throbbing head.

"Neibolt, my bed." His mate said as he felt her hand pet his loose unkept hair. Knowing it was his Leech he was curled up to, the eldritch dropped his guard releasing a long puff of warm air as he did so. One of his exhausted arms reached around her swollen waist and he buried his nose into the crook of her neck not wanting to deal with the teasing inevitably to come. He was nude, which didn't bother him now knowing where he was, but he still couldn't figure out how he got here and what exactly led to him being naked and in immense pain. Last thing he could actually remember about the night before was revealing that he could actually become intoxicated and then eating that chocolate "Did we?" He mumbled his powerful demeanor completely shattered by his pitiful tone of voice.

"You dry humped me for 5 minutes then passed out." His vampire signed. "Your suit was wet and sticky wasn't going to let you sleep on me like that."

Pennywise simply grunted in response and Leech snorted. "Do you want to hear about the rest of it?"

"There's more?" He whined.

"I'm kinda mad at you and we are no longer allowed at any Applebees in the state of Maine."

The clown groaned against her skin. "What you're experiencing right now is a hangover and if you want me to make it go away I want a full verbal apology now and the rest when you're better."

Pennywise snarled and moved away from her acting like a spoiled child. "I will not grovel for your forgiveness." He bore his teeth at her while holding the side of his head.

"You made out with the wrong girl you're not in a position to argue."

The clown's eyes grew wide with surprise.

"Yeah." Leech sat up smirking triumphantly. "I broke your nose for it and then you drank an entire bottle of champagne after throwing up in an ice bucket!"

"I- my nose?"

"You really have no idea what you did last night do you? This is great I love having this power!"

"You have no power over me!" The eldritch snarled at her in the dimly lit room to which his mate responded by turning on her lamp. Pennywise recoiled in pain from the bright light holding his head and curling dramatically into a ball.

"Beg to differ Ruffles." Leech grinned shutting off the light. "Tell you what, you make it up to me and I'll delete the footage of you proposing to a lamp."

The clown groaned loudly again scrunching himself tighter in agony. "I promise I'll go easy on you." She purred rubbing his back "you might even enjoy yourself."

"And what do you wish of me?"

"I want a whole day just you and me whatever I want."

Pennywise let out a long sound of pain. His massive form showing her a side no one living or dead had ever seen. He was vulnerable and small despite being nearly 7ft tall with hands the size of her head. It made the vampire feel pride that he trusted her this deeply.

"Oh come on Pen Im not going to torture you…. too much. I think you can handle 24 hours of being nice to Leech."

"I'm already very nice to you."

"Sure Grumpywise, sit up."

He did as he was asked and Leech could see the hangover clearly on his painted features. His normally pristine red lines splintered up his faux grease paint skin and his blackened eye makeup was much more exaggerated, accentuating his eye bags. To make things short, he looked like hell. Leech swung her leg over him and placed her thumbs on his massive temples applying gentle pressure as she rubbed them. Pennywise's tired pained eyes relaxed and grew heavy as she soothed him, a purr rumbled in his chest keeping time with her rhythm. "Feel good?" His mate asked him warmly and he responded with a soft grunt of approval. Her fingers stopped after a moment and Pennywise's eyes cracked back open "I'll cure the rest of it if you agree to take me on an I'm really sorry date." The insect growl he let out was menacing to the untrained ear but Leech knew her mate well enough to know that was a yes. She leaned in and kissed him deeply then left his warmth to grab something on her nightstand. "This will be nasty for you but it'll kick your ass into functioning again. We'll grab some doughnuts for you to cover the empty stomach for now." The drink she handed him smelled wrong and had a foul color not unlike gray water. The clown bared his teeth at the cup. "Trust your bartender Ruffles." Leech pushed the glass into his hands "she loves you very much."

"You're going to poison me again." He growled.

"You want to feel better? Drink." She insisted and punctuated her words with a soft kiss to his cheek. "Hold your nose and gulp it" Pennywise winced pinching his red nose and knocking the beverage back swallowing hard. After his fangs shot forward past his tongue which hung out in utter disgust.

"Good now drink this for the taste" his mate handed him a colorful sports drink which he completely devoured, the sugar indeed helping with whatever it was he just ingested. Her hand fell onto his belly rubbing it a few times as she combed his loose hair. "Feel better?"

Pennywise grunted stubbornly.

"That didn't sound too convincing frowny-clowny!" His mate teased him nuzzling his nose completely unafraid of the eater of worlds at his worst and most vulnerable. Pennywise snarled and shoo-ed her away baring his fangs in an empty threat. "I got one more cure to make you better Ruffles." She purred crawling back to him.

"What?" He spat and watched her with weary eyes.

"Some good old fashioned tender," her leg swung over his waist. "Loving," hands ran back through his mess of orange hair and her lips leaned in close to his own. "Care." Leech barely got out before making contact moaning softly against his lips. The clown's facial features were of annoyance but there was no denying the rumbly purr rising from his chest and the way his gloved hand slid down her spine to rest inside her shorts. He couldn't say no to something as sweet as this, maybe this wasn't too awful.

Hours later the boogeyman of Derry reclined outside of a changing room, sporting sunglasses over his eyes to block the sting of the store's stale fluorescent lights. He watched giggling potential teenage meals pass by and stifled a ravenous whine in his throat. A few of them even stopped to check him out which made his already ill human form gag a bit at the thought. "How much longer?" He complained wanting to growl at another pack of humans like a junkyard dog. He settled for maggots in their fancy blended coffees instead. Their squeals of terror brought a smug grin to his face and a rumble to his stomach.

“Alright opinions on the shirt.” finally his mate’s voice called to him from the entrance of the changing room

“It looks fine.” the eldritch mumbled barely interested.

“You didn't even look in my direction Pen.”

Pennywise groaned and turned his head, then let out a high pitched noise of anger at the sight of the sea turtle across his mate’s chest. “I change my mind!” he snarled recoiling in disgust. Leech cackled hard enough to snort and wheeze at his reaction. The more she learned about her love's mysterious ways the more she was able to push his buttons. The power trip alone felt amazing.

“Pen are you saying this doesn't look good on me? That's not very nice at all for you to say!”

A row of fangs split through Robert Gray’s handsome human face. “Remember you promised to be nice to me today Wuffles.” his mate’s sharp front teeth glinted at him as she adjusted her sore swollen breasts in the shirt. It felt blasphemous that two of his favorite things had to be adorned by such a disgusting creature.

“Love is suffering.” he shut his eyes and groaned struggling with restraint to tear the offending garment from his mate’s body.

“Are you admitting to being a masochist?” she teased him that sly grin almost daring him to lose his temper. Instead the eldritch huffed and spun her around marching her back to her changing room and swatting her rear playfully to get her to go in.

“That's your kink dear.” he said flatly resting his long arms over the railing of the stall and eyeing her with expectation.

“Seem to recall you rather enjoying last girl's night when you let me use my claws on your ass.”

“Wednesday is the only day I will allow such things, and make no mistake darling, I'm still always in control.” his features grew dark and his perfect upturned nose twitched in a way she could see the little dimples above his nostrils. She hated when he did that and he knew it did things to her.

“Why are you even still here? This is the ladies changing room.” she attempted to chide him and Robert arched a brow in that oh so Pennywise way.

“One can argue that I am female,”

“In your true from yes. But right now Robert Gray is about to get me kicked out of the Derry mall for perving.”

The eldritch rolled his eyes and shut the door behind him, his massive form making the small stall feeling slightly claustrophobic. “Better?” he smirked as he twirled a lock of her fake platinum hair around his finger.

“No! How am I supposed to change with your giant ass in here?”

“You can always let me-”

“Oh no you don't! We still have a whole date to get through and I'm not done annoying you just yet.”

Robert whined and sat down on the bench pulling her by the hips a bit “just a bite then. The sooner that offensive garment is gone the better.”

“You're really bothered by it aren't you?” Leech smirked and allowed him to man handle her just a bit. After all saying no to him was incredibly difficult.

“It's one thing to cover my queen in this disgusting image but my unborn young as well? Blasphemy.”

“Mmm blasphemy my favorite thing.” the vampire hummed as her mate’s fingers pushed under her shirt feeling the curve of her swollen belly with reverence.

“I'm well aware.” he purred drawing his lips closer to her, pushing the shirt up further. She stopped him before he could get to her breasts, pushing his hunger filled hands back down and earning herself an annoyed groan from her eldritch.

"Close your eyes.”

“Why?” he demanded and pouted like a child.

“Because I'm wearing a surprise under this and you cant see till later."

“Surprise me now then”

“Pen if you want to have fun with this you're gonna have to trust me and wait.” she kissed him anyway and the needy whine he let out was almost enough to convince her to change her mind. “Don't look ok?” he didn't say anything but he did obediently close his human form's hungry silver eyes. Leech put her hand over them as she quickly removed the clothing she was trying on just in case. Pennywise was definitely the type to peek at his presents early. She took her hand away when she was down to only her panties and immediately she felt herself being grabbed and kissed with ferocity. It's not like he hadn't seen all this before but Leech wouldn't lie that his reaction to her semi nude form was a major confidence boost. “Fuck Pen,” she mumbled into him feeling fangs in his mouth and claws at her back. “Hold out for just a little while longer for me.”

The creature hissed and held her tighter. “Come on Ruffles trust me its worth it.”

Robert Gray returned to what could be considered normal while pouting a bit as his mate got dressed pulling her hoodie over her wig to protect herself from any sunlight. The eldritch scooped up her wanted clothes rather impatiently and patted his lap motioning for her to sit.

"Are you endorsing shoplifting?" Leech raised an eyebrow at him and smiled mischievously

"I'm being nice" Robert shrugged. "you were going to try it anyway dear, my way is quicker."

"I'm starting to like when you're nice." Leech smiled and got comfy her arms holding tight around his neck. "Home please."

"Don't get too used to it, I have plans for you tonight sweet thing." He purred against the soft fabric of her hood.

"Is that a threat or a promise?"

"You'll have to wait its a surprise!" He giggled and poofed them out of the store leaving tags and a discarded turtle shirt where they once sat.

#pennywise #pennywise fanfiction #horror fanfiction #pennywise x oc #pennywise fluff #monster roommate au

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