#once again the clown is an absolute fucking loser lmao

[bruciemilf]

Something Something, Joker’s whole thing in DC is that he does irredeemable, awful bullshit, which he always minimizes by calling it a joke, regardless of how critical the damage is to people around him and never takes accountability for it, something something literally the plot always tells you he’s an absolute loser for that and aspiring to imitate that behavior makes you a loser, something something comedy should be an outlet for laughter and pain, not taking joy in hurting someone else

#once again the clown is an absolute fucking loser lmao #I also wanna underline that this mf does not suffer from anything except acute assholeism lol #I’m once again asking ppl to realize not every bad person is a psychopath and not every psychopath is a bad person #not every flaw is a symptom and not every symptom is a flow #this is for joker boys specifically yall are kind. hm. #dc #dc comics #anti joker #text #batman

[controversialbatfamilytakes]

This is so silly but I can genuinely only like characters who have gotten themselves embarrassed or have been just straight up clowned by others (I dont mean that in a fighting way btw or you know, in a Joker way). I feel like without that, they're just too sterile and less interesting. Like I like characters who have been made fools of for a reason. For example, Lady Shiva. I already liked her, but I really started liking her when I realized where she couldnt be physically beat by physical skill alone, she could be physically beat by being outsmarted. Like that time Talia knocked her ass out by tricking her. That shit was good (Im not taking into context the WHOLE comic thats from btw. Some of it was mid or worse) because it showed that even someone as badass and OP as Sandra could be beat by tricks. Thats the class A type of clownery Im here for. Speaking of Shiva, I want to see Cass clowned on. Not in a fight way (Shiva does that to her plenty lmao) but in a prank way. Let one of those losers she calls brothers murk her ass in a prank. Show me a good sister brother relationship I beg. I have several brothers and sisters and I have two siblings who are so much like Cass (we cant sneak up or beat those fools at wrestling/mma for shit its highkey embarrassing for the rest of us ngl) BUT that doesn't stop us from absolutely planning out dumb pranks to make fun of them. I want family dynamics where everyone gets the clown card (once again NOT THE JOKER FUCK HIM AND HIS GOOFY ASS) at least a couple of times.

You know what? Yes. Everyone deserves to get clowned on. You don't end up with four brothers as a sister and not get clowned on no matter how well you will beat their ass (My brothers do not care. They will risk their skins to mess with me knowing damn well i WILL clap their necks).

I wonder what a prank on Cass might look like to other fans :D. Any ideas anyone?

-Selene

#talia al ghul #sandra wu san #cassandra cain #cass cain #yes i consider talia and sandra honorary batfam

[hornsandthings]

victory in the wrong clothing;

pairing: (adult) richie tozier x reader

summary: richie returns to his s/o after having left abruptly for derry. still grieving for eddie, he struggles to talk about what has happened. his s/o is there to comfort him, learning more about what richie had once wanted as a child and what he wants now for his future as an adult. 

warnings: canon-typical themes, fluff & angst, language lmao // word count: 2.2k (oops)

you felt like an impostor here, sitting on richie tozier’s couch inside his chicago high-rise. richie trashmouth tozier’s couch; comfortable, luxurious, expensive. despite this, you knew what you’d find if you were to have a look around: the awards in his office, the display of rare vinyls next to the record player in the living room, his collection of bizarre ties that he reserved for formal events only. god, you thought a little wildly, the tea in your hands long since gone cold, i feel like a stalker. an outsider who had broken into the comedy star’s apartment, an avid fan whose mind had gone a little haywire with obsession.

and, perhaps just as a stalker would’ve, you took richie’s absence personally. first, it had manifested as anger – you had half a mind to trash trashmouth’s apartment by day two – but then it transformed into a type of gnawing worry. even now, as you sat wide awake at midnight (like every other night of this past week), your gut roiled and your heart pounded as you stared out the big window over the city. chicago’s lights – once exciting and bright – were barely coherent against the night’s darkness, twinkling pitifully as it seemed moments from being swallowed up.

richie was out in that darkness somewhere, his number no longer in service. he had left on a tuesday, home only a moment after a show of his at one of the city’s intimate comedy clubs. your friends had said things like what a bastard! and maybe all those voices finally drove him crazy and oh hon, can’t you see? he found someone else. if it had been anyone else, perhaps you would’ve believed such things, but the way richie had left…

you still remembered it vividly, because it was scary.his hands were shaking, his face pale and drawn as he was throwing clothes into a suitcase, eyes glazed over. in answer to your bewildered questions, he’d been mumbling about home and a call and a promise. some of the panic dissipated into grim determination, but richie tozier had left still looking like a dead man walking.

i don’t understand, you’d nearly wailed, richie, please! talk to me!

richie barely remembered his childhood. for him to return to the town he couldn’t name – or perhaps wouldn’tname – on some sort of random whim…

it had you guiltily checking the medicine cabinet, fearing some sort of break – but no, he’d packed his ADHD medication too. there was this, but also the way he had turned back to you before closing the door. don’t forget me, he’d said, before giving you a desperate, rushed kiss.

the smell of sweat was still in your nose. the smell of fear. richie tozier had been afraid. so no, then. he hadn’t left you. he was running towards something, even if it was the absolute last thing he wanted to do.  

 so here you sat in the silent apartment, watching the night deepen. you were so in thought that you didn’t register the roll of a suitcase, or the click of a key turning the lock, but then the lights flicked on and footsteps shuffled and you turned and the mug shattered on the floor and there he was, richie tozier, your boyfriend, your goddamn lover.

god, you almost couldn’t believe it. perhaps you were gaping at him, but richie looked older, almost like a stranger. but then his face crumpled, long legs taking stagger-steps as he reached for you, and you all but jumpedhim, wrapping him up in your arms.

“richie! oh god, richie—richie, i—”

“i’m sorry, baby,” he whispered, leaning over you as he hid his face in your hair, almost crushing you as he held tight – but you didn’t care, you welcomed this almost-pain, reassuring you that this was real. his shoulders were shaking, his breath haggard, nails digging into your skin. richie was crying.

you whimpered against his chest, clutching at his crinkled shirt. it almost hurt to hold him like this, body all tense, but it was all you could do for a while, still standing there on the threshold of the living room. when he got a little too heavy, his knees too weak to even hold himself up, you gently pulled him onto that couch.

richie was loathe to let go of you; he clung on, manoeuvring your legs over his lap and your head to his shoulder. cradling the back of your neck, he pressed his lips to yours in a wet kiss, mouth moulding to yours slow and steady, again and again. you cupped his jaw, the scratch of stubble against your palms and as you held his face close, his nose cold as it brushed yours.

“i missed you,” you said, and he ran his thumb over your cheekbone. “i worried for you. you scaredme, richie.” he scared you a little even now, his eyes so solemn. it was a far cry from the richie who would shock audiences with sheer audacity, make you flustered in public, make you giddy and soft with his kindness and affection. i fucking adore you, he’d once whispered into your ear.

richie winced, averting his eyes. “i know. i’m sorry. but i had to, baby. and it—it worked, but—fuck!” he shuddered, squeezing his eyes shut. “not everyone—eddie—”

he was shaking now, removing his glasses before pinching the bridge of his nose. you shook your head, feeling your own eyes well up. he wasn’t making any sense, but he was clearly in such despairthat it made your heart ache. “baby,” you murmured, gently taking his hands. “baby, what happened to you? where did you go? who… who’s eddie?”

richie looked at you, taking in your careful grip, your soft tone, your honest face. his chest seized at the way you had said eddie, no suspicion there but only concern and sympathy. god, he didn’t know how to even begin to tell you. i killed a killer clown from outer space, baby, and his psychotic henchman! they both used to pick on me and my friends in middle school! i remembered a whole life i’d forgotten and lost half of it, all in one night! i had some fucking wild TIMES, BABY!

he wanted to tell you the truth – fuck, some part of him needed to – but for all the love he knew you had for him, any sane person would make moves to have him committed. there was this, yes, but it was mostly the burden of knowing which stopped him. to know that there were horrors lurking amongst the stars, things beyond human comprehension, things which had set foot on this fucking earth – it had broken stanley’s mind, the one who had been the most adult of them all. no, he couldn’t do that to you.

“richie,” you said, reverting to a much more simpler question, “are you okay?”

and he broke, a sob escaping his throat with a hitching, ugly sound. he leaned into your touch as you hugged him close, nuzzling his face in your neck as he shook against you. it hurt to cry like this, throat constricting and nose stinging and head aching and heart breaking. the memories in his head ran like a well-watched film reel: the scrape of ground beneath him. eddie’s smile. the splattering of blood. the harsh tug of hands all over him as he screamed, they screamed, the cavern around them screamed. it was all swallowing him again, the smell of the sewers, the unspeakable sights—

it was gradual, but richie started to shift his focus back to the here and now, guided out of the black hole that was the memory of derry by your murmured reassurances, by your hand running through his hair.

“i’m sorry,” he croaked again, but you only hushed him, pressing a kiss to his temple.

“i’m just glad you’re back.”

richie sighed, lifting his head to look at you. he felt a little pathetic, practically draped over you and weeping incoherently while you were being patient, so patient. “geez. fuck me,” he groaned, but you didn’t laugh. instead, you wiped away at a track a tear had left.

he caught your wrist, held onto it as he turned his head to kiss your palm. with a deep breath, richie steeled himself, trying to think of some way to frame the recent horrors into a reasonable narrative. eventually he managed, twisting the truth into a tale of how he and childhood friends – brought back to derry to reunite after hearing one of them had died – were targeted by a serial killer. it all culminated in some unstable underground tunnel, where eddie had died and the damned thing had collapsed before richie could get him out.

“eddie…eds,” he was saying. you had tears in your eyes, squeezing his hands tightly as richie swallowed hard, eyes shining. “oh, baby,” he sighed, wincing at you in weak apology but you shook your head, managing a small smile. you could already tell – it was in the way he had said eddie’s name, in the sorrow that lined his very shoulders. “i… i loved him. when—when we were children. the fucking hypochondriac. he was so fucking neurotic, you know? god… and i never told him. i fucking forgot—how could i—”

oh, it was so painful. when richie had seen him again, seen the whole loser’s club again, they had fallen back into their childhood roles so easily – the things they said, their behaviours, their feelings. there had been moments when richie felt it again – love – but it was tainted by derry’s ugly, ugly attitudes, his own insecurities and doubts. and when eddie had died, in richie’s fucking arms, eddie had ended it with a joke and richie still hadn’t told him, his confession left silent and anonymous on the kissing bridge for those two boys of 1989.

“and we left him there, in the ground, oh fuck he’s gonna hate it—”

his voice faltered as guilt started to gnaw at him again. every night since that horrible, fateful day did richie think about this, about the fact that they had left eddie in the sewers, left him to rotnext to that horrid fucking bitch clown monster fuck and turn into the very thing he feared the most: a putrid leper. a decaying corpse.

you didn’t know what to say. all you could do was watch as richie’s face hardened, eyes rimmed red and lips set in a thin line. there was no anger in you, no sense of betrayal. you knew how strange it could be, to return to your childhood friends – a kind of regression took place, and some part of your old sense of self was reasserted, if only for a little while.

you splayed a palm over his chest. “i am so sorry, richie.” perhaps a cliché phrase, but it was the truth – you wished all of that horrorhadn’t happened to him, wished that he hadn’t suffered such a tragedy. “i love you,” you added, because this was still the truth, too. “i’m here for you, in whatever way you need.”

richie’s brow furrowed, fingers curling over your own. studying the lines of your hand, his thoughts raced, stumbling over each other as emotions roiled and bubbled up within him.

“marry me,” he blurted, head snapping up as he looked at you with wide eyes. “life is so fucking fickle. marry me. marry me, baby.” he was leaning closer now, searching your eyes. “i love you. i know i sound like a fucking two-timer but i’m still in love with you. so much. but when, when he died i just felt everything i did as a kid—”

“you don’t have to explain it away, richie,” you murmured. your heart was pounding as the question – the proposal – settled in your mind, not entirely unrealistic but certainly abrupt. he squeezed your hand once – perhaps in acknowledgement, or perhaps with impatience. “but of course – of course i’ll marry you,” you smiled, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. richie gasped a laugh, grinning wide as he hugged you close. his big hands were roaming your back, eager to touch and to hold.

you had meant what you said – of course you did – yet knew him well enough to know that sometimes he said things before really considering them. careful to keep your voice low and gentle, you said, “but maybe reconsider when you’re not… when you’re not grieving, baby.” you pulled away to see his face fall, but richie nodded, reaching for his glasses.

“i’ll still be asking you,” he murmured.

“and i’ll still say yes.”

richie’s mouth quirked, kissing your forehead as he gathered you back into his arms, his heart still aching a little but warmer now. indeed, when he had first set eyes on you tonight, he realised that it was only now that he felt truly safe again.

“i think a part of every person who we love stays with us,” you spoke, and richie had to agree, because the scar on his palm and the one on his heart were never going to go away. and eventually, hopefully, a small stretch of skin on his ring finger would always be lighter, showing the impression of a ring which he only would seldom – if ever – take off.

with this image in his mind, richie kissed you again, big hands gentle as they curled over your ears. “wanna stay with you forever,” he murmured, hand sliding down to your neck to feel your pulse. such a fragile thing, the heart. but capable of extraordinary strength, too. perhaps his would heal in time. but if it didn’t, if the cracks proved too big to mend, then at least he had you there for him, with him, to hold him if the hurt was to stay.

and he was quite alright with that.

#richie tozier x reader #richie tozier x you #richie tozier imagine #richie tozier #it stephen king #some reddie discussion le cri #not too happy w/ the end but had to get it out & finish it!

[just-jordie-things]

Drinking Confessions (and a miracle too) - Richie Tozier

word count: 6939 warnings: swearing, smoking, drinking (lots of it), mentions of possible sexual harassment, pent up derpession and anxiety, aaaaand Henry Bowers a/n: for @i-heart-movies bc y’all were ready for some Richie Tozier and I am servin it up on a silver bronzeish platter lmao enjoy

Becoming friends was just about the easiest thing you’ve ever done.  In fact, you couldn’t quite remember how it had happened.  Sometime in elementary school you were paired up together for some science project, and one thing led to another and now you were best friends.  And Richie Tozier did not look like the kind of crowd y/n l/n would waste her time with.

He was loud, and vulgar.  He wore ripped jeans and band shirts.  His language was about as foul (if not fouler) than a sailor’s.  While he was smart for his age, he put no effort into his studies.  He smoked on campus, spent fridays drowning in liquor at one of the more popular kid’s parties.  So drunk he’d barely keep his eyes open.  He got into fights with the Bowers gang, whether he started it or not, he always finished it.  He’d spend days away from home, crashing at a friend’s place, once so out of it on a park bench in November.

You weren’t a quiet girl, and you weren’t shy.  But you didn’t quite meet Richie’s extremities.  You wore jeans, a sweater, something comfortable and soft.  You swore, sure what teenager didn’t, but not to the extent of your friend’s obscenities.  You drank with him occasionally, even sharing a smoke every once in awhile.  But your clothes didn’t reek of cigarettes the same way his did.  You stayed clear of any sort of drama, no matter what disgusting thing Henry and his goons would slur at you, you’d turn the other way and pretend to not have heard it.  You followed your parents’ curfew, even though you knew deep down they didn’t give a shit if you ever came home.  And most of all, you studied your ass off for your grades, for at least two hours a day.

But oh, the time wasted with Richie was time cherished.

You were sitting on your desk chair, feet up on the edge of your bed and knees bent to properly keep your Bio textbook in place.  Flipping through pages and highlighting anything you felt needed reviewing.  Richie, who was sprawled on your bed and feeding you nonsense about some stupid thing Henry did, was not so eager to spend his Saturday studying in your room.

“y/n, this is boring” He complained for the umpteenth time.

“You said that” You replied, words awkward as the highlighter cap was between your teeth.  “I told you that you didn’t have to keep me company” You chided.  Also not particularly fond of him distracting you.

“Why can’t we just go to Jess’s? It’s supposed to be fun” He prompted, hoping you’d cave and go to the party with him.

“We went last weekend, what’s more special about this one? They’re all the same” You said, capping your marker.  Richie groaned and rolled his eyes, sitting up to face you.

“First of all, parties are for fun, and it’s the fucking weekend, so we should have fun” He argued.  You let him go on with hi persuading.  “Second, they’re not completely the same.  Bill said he’d go” This earned a chuckle from you.

“Really? Bill?” You stated sarcastically.  “He wants to go to party with a bunch of drunks, that always just ends with me trying to get you home before you puke on yourself?” Richie stared blankly at you.

“I’ve never puked on myself y/n” He stated matter of factly.

“Even if you had, you wouldn’t remember it” You said with a bark of a laugh.  “Face it Rich, you just go to get shit faced and why can’t you do that here where I can take care of you before you kill yourself?”

“Oh please, I’d never-”

“Two weeks ago you didn’t make it home, and you spent the night on a fucking park bench” You said, trying to not sound angry as you reminded him of the incident.

When he’d told you that he was that wasted, you had completely blown up on him.  About how irresponsible he was and that it was forty degrees outside and all he’d worn was a tee shirt and jeans last night.  You yelled about all the terrible scenarios that could have happened if Stan hadn’t found him on a early morning bird watching walk.  That he could’ve gotten kidnapped or molested or killed.  Your anger only bubbled more when Richie had told you to chill because he was fine.  He didn’t know your anger had come from a place of absolute concern.

“Right, and if you’re there, it won’t happen again” He promised.  You chewed on your lip, still not sure it was a good idea.

“I don’t know Rich it just doesn’t seem healthy”

“Like you’ve got a clean ledger” He retorted sarcastically.

“Alright so I’m not a virgin pure but I am not as insane as you” You said, and both of you began to laugh.  Richie shrugging, nodding his head knowing that compared to him, you were God’s favorite angel.

“Fine, I’ll give you that one” He said, liking the way you smiled as you tried to stop your laughing.  “But still, you and I never have fun together”

“What’re you talking about we hang out all the time” You said, scrunching up your eyebrows at such an accusation.

“Sure, but we don’t go out anymore” He said, looking down to fiddle with your sheets and avoid eye contact.  “We used to all the time, especially with the whole gang but…” You sighed, reaching your hand out to his, halting his fidgeting.

After the clown incident in ‘84, you and the Losers had made a literal blood promise to stick together, to come together if something this horrific ever happened again.  But after Bev left town a few months later, everyone began to break apart.  Ben was next to go, thn Mike, followed by Stan, and then Eddie.  Bill still talked to you and Richie here and there.  A brief hello in the halls, small discussion about your weekends in class. But other than that, it was just you and Richie.  Which you’d grown to be very grateful for.

“I know” You finally breathed out.  Keeping your emotions under control.  It’s been a year of managing them and so far you hadn’t broken once, which you prided yourself for.  It was much better to handle it internally instead of breaking down like a weak girl in front of him.  Richie sighed as well, and shook his head to rid his own feelings.

“Anyways.  We should go.  In like… an hour” He decided.  You nodded, half smiling as he grinned with excitement.  “Really? We can?” He asked eagerly and you laughed quietly, looking back to your textbook.

“One hour.  And no more than three beers!” You ordered, and he nodded, crossing an x over his chest with his finger.

“Promise!” He exclaimed, and you shook your head with laughter at his antics before getting back to your studying.

Now you could use those three beers.

“WHOOO!” All you could hear was booming music and screaming as you got out of your car, stuffing your keys into the pocket of your jeans.

“I can’t believe this is your scene” You sighed, but Richie grinned at you, pushing his glasses up his nose and slinging an arm over your shoulder.

“Come on babe lighten up” He said, taking an unopened beer right out of some guy’s hand.  The guy tried to chastise him, but was too drunk already to get the proper words out.

“Jesus it’s not even ten o’clock” You said, staring wide eyed at the drunken stumbling guy.  Richie didn’t even cast a glance over his shoulder, just yanked off the metal cap and threw back a long drink of the beer.  You cringed.  “Beer is ghastly” You muttered.

“Beer is ghastly” He repeated in a posh accent he often used to mock you.  Usually when you studied and would whisper things out loud to better remember them.  You laughed, nudging his rib with your elbow but he just tugged you closer, opening the door and letting you inside first.

The house was just raging.  With everything you expected to be at a high school party.  Drunks, stoners, sluts, sweaty dancing bodies, hormones off the charts.  You stuck close to Richie, like you did at every party you were dragged into.

“Come on hot stuff let’s go have some fuckin’ fun” He said, and you managed the best smile towards him you could as he pulled you with him towards the kitchen.

“No more than three” You reminded him, and he nodded, repeating the cross of his heart as he finished off the bottle he’d been holding.  You ogled at how quickly he’d drowned the liquid, but didn’t say anything about it.

“Number two doll!” He hollered, releasing you and maneuvering his way to the cooler that was sitting next to the counter.  He fished out a bottle, and you peeked down into the large tub of ice.  Multiple things in there, and you were certain none of them were a cherry cola.

You sighed, shrugged a shoulder, and bent over to grab a bottle similar to Richie’s.  He watched you out of surprise.  Sure, you were no virgin to alcohol, but you certainly weren’t… well… experienced.  Really just a sip when passing around a bottle, one drink from the spiked Prom night punch.

“Drinking for any reason?” He pondered, and you stared at him as you popped the cap off by wedging it on the edge of the counter.  It flung somewhere you didn’t see, but you heard the metal clatter on the floor.

“Yeah” You said, throwing it back like it was normal for you.  “To get drunk” You said.  You swallowed thickly, ignoring the disgusting taste and the way it made your mouth and throat feel sticky.

Richie just stared at you, still holding his unopened beer.  He didn’t know what to say, you’d never been like this before.  But he felt some sort of relief that he was there, that if you ended up sick that he could take you home.

“Alright just… take it easy babe” He said, copying your actions to remove the cap, and taking a tentative drink.

“Mhm” You mumbled, finally stopping for a breath and wiping your mouth with your sleeve.  His eyes flickered to your bottle to see half it’s contents were still there.  He looked around anxiously, leg bouncing as his thoughts wandered off.  “I know what I’m doing, I took Health last year” You told him, waving a dismissive hand before drinking again.

“Uh huh, stay here for a moment I gotta… I’m gonna use the bathroom I’ll be right back okay?” You nodded, beginning to bounce to the music booming throughout the house.  “Don’t move, I’ll be right back” He said sternly.  You grinned, setting the empty bottle on the counter and proudly looking at it.

“And mama says I never accomplished anything” You laughed at yourself and reached for another bottle.

Richie rushed out to the living room, pushing through the bodies in search of a phone, anywhere.

“Move, move, out of the way, move” He kept muttering, trying to keep his chill around the more… begrudging… bodies.  “Move, fucking move!” He started yelling louder, being more forceful and plowing past the crowd, towards the staircase.  He climbed the quickly, opening every door he passed, and jesus there were a lot of doors.

“Get out pervert!” A girl screamed, throwing what he through was a bra towards him before closing the door as quickly as he opened it.  Snickering and wincing at once.  Just as he was about to open another one, it swung open on it’s own.  Nearly hitting him and knocking his glasses off of his face.  But he stumbled back and adjusted them, seeing it hadn’t hauntingly opened.  The person exiting the room being Henry Bowers.

“Damn Tozier… the fuck you doing up here?” he asked, raising a flask to his lips and throwing back a quick gulp.

“Looking for a phone, now get out of my fucking way” Richie groaned, pushing the older boy, (only by a year, but Henry was repeating senior year because he didn’t have the credits to graduate) out of the way and searching through the room.

“The fuck did you just say to me Trashmouth?” Henry taunted.  Richie groaned out of frustration, not feeling the need to throw a punch and argue with Bowers, so he stomped back to the doorway, shut it, and locked the door so he wouldn’t give him any more trouble.  “Pussy!” Henry yelled, then made his way back downstairs.

“Mullet wearing pig fucking asshole” Richie grumbled, punching in one of the few numbers he still knew by heart and listening to the line ring.

He could’ve sworn it had been five minutes, tops.  Just five minutes of being apart from you.  It had to have been, how much time could have possibly passed? All he did was go upstairs, and make a call.

But when he came back down to see you on the dining room table, swinging your hips around seductively to a song he knew you couldn’t have known, time seemed to have been shorter upstairs.

(Another explanation, he thought, was that all time had stopped, and it was the end of the world.  Because this was never something he would’ve guessed to see)

And as he came back down to reality, that this was actually happening, he took in his surroundings.  There was a crowd around the table, around you, cheering you on, waving drinks and offering you more.  Richie’s mouth opened, and for a split second he lost all sense of how talking even worked.

“Dance! Dance!”

“Come on baby don’t stop those hips from moving!”

Everyone’s yelling and cheering and all the remarks- Richie was about ready to throw you over his shoulder and drag you all the way home, never to party again, never to drink again.

“Hey- hey everybody out of the fucking way!” He finally found his voice, shoving through a group of the more… vulgar commenting… boys.  And that was saying something from Richie’s perspective.  “Move! That means you asshole!” His voice grew more rigid, pissed that anybody other than him would dare speak of you in such ways.

“Richie?” You mumbled.  “Rich what’re… you’re… why’re you ‘ere?” You slurred, your movements stopping as he reached out for you.

“Come on y/n, we gotta get you home” He said in his gentlest voice.  You pouted, but took his hands and let him help you off the table.

“But I don’t wanna” You complained, and he wrapped when of your arms around his neck, seeing as even in flat bottomed shoes you couldn’t walk properly.  His other arm was around your waist, guiding you quickly away from all these freaks.

“Your mom will be pissed if I bring you back shit faced” He told you simply.  You stomped a foot, but it was a weak movement and didn’t even slow him down.

“But ‘m nnnot” You slurred.

“Yes, y/n, you are-”

“You heard the girl”

In seconds you were pulled out of Richie’s arms, and he spun around instantly to see Henry holding you upright, awkwardly.  Richie could’ve socked him across the face right there.

“What, the fuck, do you think you’re doing?” Richie gritted through his teeth.  Henry smirked back at him.

“Giving this girl the time of her life” He said.  “It is a party, isn’t it?” Henry asked, looking to you.  But your head was beginning to fall.

“No no y/n don’t fall aslee-”

“Fuck off Mama Tozier” Henry pushed Richie away, making the curly haired boy scowl and leap back towards him, taking you out of his arms swiftly and into his, embracing you against his chest carefully while glaring daggers at Henry over your shoulder.

“If you ever, fucking touch her again, I’ll shove that rusty fucking flask so far up your ass you’ll choke on it.  It’d be kinda hard for you to suck dick then wouldn’t it?” He threatened angrily.  Henry moved to swing, but some guy behind him grabbed his wrist and pushed him to the ground.  The bully toppled with ease from his intoxication, and Richie thanked the stranger before rushing you outside.

“Rich?” You mumbled, and almost fell over, bringing him with you, if he hadn’t secured his hold on you tighter.

“It’s okay princess, almost to the car” Richie said softly, rubbing your arms to warm you up in the bitter night air of Derry.  “I had a friend pick us up, okay? We can come back for your car in the morning” He knew that everything he was telling you was going in one ear and out the other, but he hoped that the gentle talking would calm you down.

“M’kie dokie” You mumbled, head falling on his shoulder as he guided you the rest of the way to the street.

“Fuck Richie” A familiar voice said, but you couldn’t quite place it.  And you couldn’t keep your eyes open long enough to see more than a blurry, but… short figure? “Can she even fuckin’ stand?”

“Nope” Richie replied, opening the back car door, and hoisting you inside.  You mentally thanked him, not realizing you didn’t even say the words out loud.

“Jesus” The voice sighed.  “I’ve never seen her so fuckin’... out of it”

“Yeah.  Me either Eds” Richie breathed.  It was quiet for a moment, before Richie climbed in behind you, and the other boy went to the driver’s seat.

“Eddie Spaghetti?” You called, Richie’s slip of a name tipping you off on who your driver was.  Eddie smiled to himself, glancing at the both of you through his rearview mirror.  Richie was placing his hoodie around your shoulders like a blanket, and the thing was already too big for him so it looked like you were swimming in the material.

“Yeah it’s me n/n” He responded in a quiet voice.  His mind filling with the sad but strong feeling of nostalgia.

“Yay” You whispered, fingers rubbing the insides of Richie’s jacket.  Sometime between then and Eddie starting the car, you curled against the boy sitting with you, finding his body warmth much more pleasing than a nice smelling sweater.  “Mm you haven’t been smoking” You whispered, and Richie looked down at you as you got comfortable against his chest.

“No babe, I’ve been trying to stop” He told you honestly.

“ ‘m glad, you smell so good when you aren’t” You mused happily.  Eddie looked at the mirror again, both him and Richie sharing a wide eyed look.  Eddie’s more of shock, but Richie’s filled with… well the germaphobe could’ve sworn he saw hearts in Richie’s irises.

“Thanks babe” He finally responded, and you smiled in response.  A few minutes passed before he realized your breathing had slowed down.  “Hey, hey try not to fall asleep yet okay?” He leaned down towards you more to tuck your hair back out of your face, rubbing gentle circles on your back.

“Okay beautiful” You murmured, and worked harder to keep your eyes open.

Eddie snorted.

“The fuck you laughing at?” Richie asked, still caressing your back.

“Okay, beautiful” He gushed mockingly.  Though it didn’t embarrass Richie the way that he thought it would.  Just made his cheeks slightly pink as he looked down at your resting form, smiling softly down at you.

“Just a few more minutes” He promised you, and you nodded against him.

The rest of the ride was quiet, more back rubs and little noises you’d make when Eddie went over a bump or you passed a light too bright.

When he pulled into the driveway, you were just a few more minutes away from passing out.  Richie slid out of the car, took you in his arms.  Surprising you, as you’d tried to stand but he just lifted you up completely.  If you were in your right mind, you would’ve insisted on walking yourself.  But you weren’t sober enough, or awake enough, to care.  So you wrapped your arms around his neck and snuggled into him best you could.

“Thank you, Eddie” Richie said through the window Eddie had rolled down.

“Anytime.  Really” He replied quietly. A sad smile on his face.  “I’m always here for you guys… even if things have gotten weird and we’ve… well we’ve grown apart but… Loser’s club forever” Richie smiled back at him.  “Give me a call in the morning and tell me if she needs any aspirin, I’ve got every kind known to man stocked up in my cabinet” Both boys laughed quietly.

“Alright Eds I will.  Goodnight”

“Night you two” He responded, then rolled up the window, and drove back off towards his neighborhood.  You looked up from his chest as he opened the door and went inside.

“Hey! Kidnapper!” You called out while he locked the door behind you.  “This isn’t my house!”

“No babe, it’s my place.  My parents are out on business… I think… and there’s no way in hell that I’m taking you home this fucking wasted.  Your mom would beat the shit out of both of us” He told you.  You pursed your lips and nodded, looking around like it was the first time you’d been there.

He carried you up the steps, not even turning on the lights so that your eyes wouldn’t hurt.  The hall was short, he thanked God it wasn’t a maze like party-house’s had been.  He walked into his room, carefully setting you in bed and wrapping you up with blankets.  Your arms were outstretched, like you were waiting for him to lift you up again.

“No no babe, you’re in bed now, you can go to sleep” He assured you, rubbing your head with a smile.

“Oh” Was all you said, your features saddened.  You shut your eyes and rolled over, and Richie took your turned away body to change into some sweatpants and a tee shirt for bed.

“What’s on your mind babe?” He asked you, adjusting his clothes as he walked around to sit on the side you were facing.

“I’m so tired of pretending” You huffed.  Richie rose an eyebrow as he began to rub a hand up and down your arm.

“What’re you pretending about?”

“Oh… just that everything’s okay, that Pennywise never happened and I don’t have night terrors, that my parents aren’t assholes, that Henry doesn’t make his comments and that I’m not in love with you.  Just tired of keeping up this whole perfect girl act in general” You were staring off at the wall, while RIchie was staring hard at you, his lips parted in surprise at what you’d said.  His hand stopped moving, his body completely frozen.

“What?” He whispered.  You yawned, covering a hand over your mouth before flicking your eyes up to his.  “Princess, did you just… did you say that…”

“Hm?” You hummed nonchalantly.  “I trust you, who’re you gonna tell?” You shrugged.  “Just don’t tell Richie!” You said, hand grabbing is arm and looking up at him nervously.  “He’d just-! He’d… well he wouldn’t be happy”

“Why not?” He asked, hand rubbing your arm again.

“Well he… he doesn’t like girls like me.  And we’ve been friends for years so… well it just wouldn’t work” Richie smiled to himself.

“I think you’d be surprised, princess” He hummed.  You stared up at him with round eyes, and he gave you a smile.  “Okay, it’s getting late now and I don’t want to keep you up.  You should go to sleep”

“Okay” You whispered, getting comfortable in the blankets and Richie fixed up your pillow for you.  “Goodnight” Your voice came out in a mere breath as your body began to shut down.

“Goodnight beautiful” The trashmouth said softly, and reluctantly got off the bed.  Just to sit in the old, and heavily worn down recliner chair.  “Sleep well” He said, before his own eyelids fell heavily.

He woke up when he heard rustling and groaning, mostly noticing the quiet, “Oh fuck… damnit… ah shit… goddamnit”  He peeked his eyes open to see the room was blurry.  He squinted but when he moved to search for his glasses, they were already on his lap.  They must’ve fallen off when he passed out last night.

“n/n?” He called.

“Shit Richie my head hurts” You cried painfully.  Richie put his glasses on and rushed out of the room. He came back just a few minutes later, a glass of water and a handful of aspirins in his hands.  You smiled as he handed you two of the pills, then the water.

“Drink that whole thing, every drop” He ordered, but kept his voice quiet so he wouldn’t disturb your head further.  A whine left your throat but you tried not to complain.  

You didn’t want to annoy Richie any more than you probably already have.  You were certain that last night you were not a pleasant friend to have around.  Besides the fact he had to take you back to his place, probably while you were disgusting and doing god knows what.  And he was stuck sleeping on a chair all night.

“Rich I’m sorry about last night, I hope I wasn’t awful” You said, eyes narrowing as the sunlight hurt to keep them open.

“No not at all.  The opposite of awful” He told you.

“Did I puke?” You asked, quietly, like you were ashamed of it.  RIchie chuckled and shook his head.

“No babe, really, it was fine” He assured you, adjusting his own jacket on your shoulders.  “I felt bad anyways, I knew you’d hurt this morning and,” He sighed, gesturing to yourself instead of finishing his sentence.  “Anyways, I’m going to go make breakfast, you hungry? Do you want anything?”

“No, thank you” You told him with a weak smile, and finished off the glass of water.

“You sure? I could go pick something up too if you’d rather, but I don’t mind making anything if you’re in the mood for anything specific” He went on, and you smiled to yourself as you put the glass on the bedside table, only for Richie to grab it.

“I’m really alright, Rich.  Thank you” You said, squeezing your hand around his wrist.  “You’re going soft” You mused, raising an eyebrow.

“Psh” RIchie scoffed and shook his head.  “I think not” He said, heading towards the door.  You shifted awkwardly as he was about to leave the room, then followed after him.

“I think you are” You said, stumbling on your own feet but catching yourself.

“Did you just fall?” RIchie asked, turning and putting a hand on your arm to steady your balance.  You would’ve swooned if you didn’t laugh quietly.

“You’re going soft, Tozier” You told him, before descending the stairs.  Stuffing your hands into the pockets of his sweatshirt.

Richie huffed, throwing his head back as you went off somewhere on the first floor.  “Only for you sweetheart” He sighed, and followed down after you.

You both had a bowl of cereal, Richie being nervous that you wouldn’t keep anything else down very well.  You rolling your eyes at him as you tipped the bowl back to drink the leftover milk.  Refraining from making another comment about his softness.

Not that you were complaining, you were loving this from him.  The tenderness he now seemed to have with you.  And you noticed, it was just you.

Through the rest of the weekend he babied you like crazy, wrapping blankets around you making sure you finished your work and showered and took your medicine, everything from a to z.  He did it, and he did it well.

You found yourself falling more in love with him than you already were.

Monday morning rolled around all to quickly though, and when you dragged your feet out the door to where Richie was waiting, in your car, you scrunched up your face.

“Are you driving my car?” You asked, mind totally jumbled as to how he’d even gotten your keys.

“Yeah, you left it at Jess’s, so I got your keys Saturday night and got it back last night” You nodded, recalling now that you hadn’t driven since Saturday.

“Oh yeah” You said, buckling in and getting adjusted.  Still wondering what had happened after you’d walked into the party that night.  “I guess I’m glad it wasn’t stolen or anything.  And doesn’t have some obscene carving from Henry Bowers” You added with a chuckle.  Richie made a sound of disgust as he backed out of your drive and headed towards the school.  “What?”

“Nothing, we just got in another dispute Saturday” He shrugged it off, but you looked at him with worry.

“Did you get into a fight?” You asked him, not having seen any bruises like he usually wore after a few rounds with the older kid.

“Fuck no, he was holding onto you and I don’t fucking know what he would’ve done if I started swinging so I just yanked you back and got the fuck our of there” He said.  Your lips pursed, not having remembered Henry taking possession of you.

“He didn’t… he didn’t like… do anything… right?” You whispered, afraid to know the answer.

“Hell no he didn’t!” Richie called, suddenly turning sharply onto another road.  Aggression coursing through his veins.  “His ass would be grass, he’d be fucking rotting in a ditch somewhere right now if he had” He began grumbling angrily, and you reaching a hand out to his shoulder to stop him.

“Richie, stop, I believe you.  If nothing happened, then nothing happened.  I’m fine” You assured softly.  He sighed, glancing over at you before his hands eased on the steering wheel.  No longer gripping it so tightly.

“I’m calm” He said after a minute.  “It’s just a lot happened that night.  I was worried about you for a while there” He said.

“What happened?” You pondered.

“After we got you home, you just seemed really depressed.  I don’t think you realized I was the one with you”

You rubbed your eyes with your fists, under the illusion it’d help you remember better.  All you could come up with was a warm sweatshirt, and the smell of liquor on your own breath.

“We?” You asked him, having caught the nonsingular word slip.

“Yeah… I called Eddie to come pick us up.  I didn’t trust myself to drive, I’d had a drink too, and you’d had… I don’t even know how much you had” He said.  You shrugged, not having known that answer either.

“Eddie picked us up?” You smiled, and Richie nodded.  “Was he… how was he?” RIchie thought for a moment on how to respond, knowing you cared more about that than he had.  Richie had only cared about getting you home.

“He was happy that you were safe” He finally told you, which was the truth.  “And he wanted you to know he’s always there for you too” You nodded, content with his response.

“Thank you” You told him suddenly.  “I don’t think I told you that yet” You eyes wandered out the window, sighing as Richie pulled into the school’s parking lot.  Nerves settled in your stomach at the thought that you probably did something stupid and now everyone would know.

“You don’t have to thank me.  What was I going to do? Leave you there? Fuck no” You chuckled, smiling over at him.

“Alright, I won’t thank you then” You chuckled softly and gathered up your things as he parked.

“I appreciate that babe” He said, shooting you a wink, and tossing you your keys.  You caught them with an awkward fumble before stuffing them into a pocket of your backpack.

The both of you walked into school together, both feeling uneasy about the day ahead of them.  Richie more so than you, but you didn’t know what had happened the way he did.  He noticed instantaneously the whispers, the odd looks and side glances.  You didn’t seem to pick up on it, so he just directed you towards your locker as quickly as he could manage.

“So uh you have US History first period right?” He asked as you twisted in your combination.

“Yep, but I’ll see you second for Calc” You replied with a short smile towards him.  Richie returned it, but it was nervous and shaky.

“Oh my God I can’t believe she even came to school”

“I know right? I figure she’d still be hungover or something”

Richie turned sharply to the two girls strutting past, having heard their whispers, he pushed his glasses up and glared them down.

“You have something you want to fucking say Miss I-had-a-baby-last-summer?” He sneered.  You jerked your head up in surprise as to why he suddenly yelled out to Sofia Hasen, who had only been walking by.  The girl scoffed, pushing her long curly hair behind her sassily and turning to him in her heel.

“Ya betta’ watch ya’self Toziah” She said, in that voice that made you cringe on the inside.  The girl snapped her gum and glared at him.  “I’m only sayin’ what I thought was ta’ be true”

“Uh huh, fucking walk on you leftover pile of AIDs” Richie retorted, stepping towards her threateningly.  You knew Richie, and you knew that while he had his rough edges when it comes to fighting, he would never hit a girl.  But right now, the fire in his eyes sure made it seem to you that he was ready to rip out those fake extensions.

“Rich” You murmured, putting a hand on his arm and staring at him with worry creasing your forehead.  He looked at you for a moment, then back at Sofia.

“Just go fuck with somebody else if I hear your voice again, I might fucking kill myself” She scoffed, but walked off without another word.  “Thank fucking God” He mumbled, feeling full of relief right up until you slapped his arm with your once gentle hand.

“What the hell Richie are you looking to pick a fight?” You scolded him, grabbing your history textbook and slamming your locker.

“She was talking shit I wasn’t gonna just fucking let her!” He replied, leaning over you.  His curls bouncing as his body moved erratically.

“Richie what for fuck’s sake are you talking about?” You sighed, crossing your arms as you shook your head.  He was making absolutely no sense, acting out strangely, and it threw you off.  Not two days ago he was warming you up when you were already content, speaking gently and being an all around sweetheart.  Now he was being an aggressive asshole.

“You… I’m talking about you y/n” He said weakly.  Your lips parted slightly, brows drawn together with shock, and confusion.  Richie hung his head.

“No, not you” You whispered.  “They.  They were talking about me” You said, expression void of any emotion.  “What the hell happened on Saturday Richie?” You asked blankly.

“Nothing crazy… nothing crazy bad” He said.  “You just danced around… on a table” Your jaw fell completely open now, eyes full of shame but also anger.

“Are you shitting me?” You said, and for a moment he thought you were angry with him.  But when you ran your hands through your hair and your eyes filled with tears, he realized you’d directed that anger on yourself.

“No, no y/n hey” He whispered, holding your small wrists in his hands and trying to meet your eyes.  “Listen, it’s alright, everyone gets drunk and does and says things they don’t mean…” He trailed off, remembering what you had said to him in private later that night.

“Said? What’d I say?” You asked, anxiety bubbling up and you could almost physically feel it spreading from your chest all through your body.

Richie opened his mouth to speak, not even knowing what he was going to tell you, but was cut off by the bell ringing.

“We’ll talk later, I promise, okay?” He said, rubbing his palm over your arm.  “Let’s just get through the day and later we can chill out and talk” You sighed, but nodded.  Richie gave you a small smile before pulling you into a hug.

Hugs weren’t new, but it’d been a while, and for the few seconds you were wrapped in his arms, all of the crippling anxiety seemed miles away from you.  But as soon as he let go, you felt it creep back in.

“I’ll see you later babe” He said, earning a small nod from you, then walked off.

For the rest of your day, you noticed every whisper, and every look.  And for most of it, you were completely alone.

“I think I’ll never drink again” You sighed out to Richie, dropping your backpack on the floor by your bed and flopping face first into the covers.

“Don’t make promises you won’t keep” He chuckled, sitting on the edge of your mattress while you whined into your blankets.  “This is all going to blow over, and something else interesting will take over the gossip in the halls.  Who gives a shit about a drunk girl? There’s tons of drunk girls” He shrugged his shoulders but you didn’t move.  “n/n, really, you barely even talked until it was just us.  And I thought it was hilarious”

“I’m a laughing stock!” You wailed, rolling onto your back and waving your arms in the air.

“No, you’re really not” He said, though he chuckled at your movements.  “Really, you’re a sweet drunk.  A sad one too, but you were sweet”

“I’ve never even heard of a sweet drunk” You grumbled.

“Well if anyone would be, it’s you.  You were all cuddly and very… kind”

“Kind?”

“Yeah, you called me beautiful and would not stop snuggling on me on the way home” Richie recalled with a good laugh.

“Oh my god” You covered your face with your hands.

“Oh it was great” Richie said between his small bursts of laughter.  “Drunk you was in love with me, she told me so too.  Then she passed out” He shook his head, eyes getting wet as he laughed and smiled so hard his face hurt.  A true, genuine smile at hearing that slipped confession.

You sat up, sitting next to him now and staring at him seriously.

“What?” You murmured.

“What?” He repeated, unsure of what you were questioning.

“I told you that I loved you?” You asked, and he nodded and shrugged, not seeing the huge deal.  You were drunk, and of course you loved him, he was your best friend.

“Yeah, why?” Richie asked, shaking his head in confusion.  “It’s no big deal n/n, I love you too, you know that” He shrugged.  “We’re best friends”  It was quiet, with you still looking at him but much more saddened.

After years, you’d confessed unconsciously, and he didn’t even take it seriously.

“Richie, drunk me isn’t the only time I’m in love with you” You told him, nerves causing butterflies to flutter in your heart.  The boy chuckled, but you shook your head, covering his hand that was keeping him steady on the bed in yours.  “Rich I’m serious” You whispered, scared that he didn’t return the same kind of love you held for him.  His expression straightened, staring at you with shock, eyes scanning every part of your expression, like maybe you were playing some awful joke.  “I’m not talking about friendship-love of anything else I’m talking about actual, real-”

Richie leaned forward, holding your cheek in his palm and captured your lips with his.  You almost sighed but kept it inside, leaning into him and wrapping both of your arms around his neck.  Just as you broke for a quick breath of air your lips crashed together again.  Like they were magnets to close to not meet.  He was soft, his thumb brushing over your cheek, his other hand on your waist and drawing you impossibly closer.  Your eyes screwed shut, giving him one last little kiss, and drawing back slowly.  Reluctantly.

Neither of you let go of each other, just sat there for a moment and stared.

“You haven’t smoked in a while” You whispered, and a small smile tugged on Richie’s lips as he looked down at you.

“Yeah, you told me you hate the smell” He replied.  Your own lips mimicked his as you shook your head just slightly.  Your fingers moving to brush the long curls that hung over his face away from his eyes.  “I love you too y/n… and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you a long time ago” He told you, and you hugged him tightly.  Richie’s arms completely encircled your waist as he held you.  “I should’ve told you a long time ago” He added.

“Yeah well… I should have too, ya softie” He chuckled, pressing his nose against your temple as he whispered in your ear.

“If you tell anyone I’ve got a soft spot for you, I’ll smoke in your room, in your car, and everywhere you go” You giggled at the empty threat.

“Oh yeah?” You mused,and he planted a kiss on your pinkening cheek.  “Good job getting out a whole sentence without a single cuss by the way” You told him.  Richie’s face gaped, surprised himself.

“Wow��� He whispered to himself.  “You my dear, are a Christmas miracle!” You laughed and shook your head.

“Richie, it’s June”

“Alright then you’re just a miracle” He said, and you laughed again.

“As are you Richard Tozier”

ok but finn sorta lookin like a grown ass man in that gif up there ??? he just gorgeous

xoxo ~ jordie

#it (2017) #richie tozier #richie tozier x reader #richie tozier imagine #richie tozier fanfiction #richie tozier scenario #finn wolfhard #finn wolfhard x reader #finn wolfhard scenario #finn wolfhard imagine #finn wolfhard fanfiction

[welcometojoelsvoid]

I drew myself properly for once :0 (Yeah I actually don’t have horns, how funny)

So I was thinking (which is never a good thing lmao) of what it would be like to be in the IT universe, or whatever you’d call it. Cuz like the Losers Club kids are approximately my age and cuz I always stick myself in things I like, I made myself a small backstory thing for it :T 

btw, this is more like the 2017 one, cuz that’s the one I’m more familiar with.

(Under “read-more” cuz this came out longer than I expected, especially if you’re on mobile lmao)

((Tagging @conejito-del-polvo cuz for some reason she wants to see this garbage))

Warning for spoilers and slight homophobia/homophobic language(?)

I’d be an exchange student. I wouldn’t really talk much to the other kiddos in my class because I’m an antisocial twerp, I’d probably be bullied for being weird and openly gay. But I wouldn’t really care :/

I’d most likely become friends with Mike or Bill first. Being outcasted and a minority would be a good conversation breaker with Mike and I could joke about my stuttering with Bill. Through them, I’d get to meet the rest of the gang. I’d help them stick up to bullies like the Bower’s Gang (my preferred method is humour). 

The first scare I’d get from IT would probably be hallucinations, not like seeing the undead or whatever, but like bugs in my room or something like that. I’m hard to scare off the bat so Pennywise would have to start off slow. IT would make me feel stalked and uncomfortable, try to strengthen my paranoia and anxiety. At some point, I’d be so scared that I could not leave my room. The Losers Club would probably send Bev or Mike to coax me out.

My friends say I’m a very rational and liable person, good with social issues, so I’d probably be good at keeping the group together, settling arguments and all that. Pennywise would sense that I was beginning to be a bigger problem then IT had originally ought me to. IT would try and keep all of the Losers Club separated and try to control me, thinking that now was the time to really get under my skin. It would be a normal school day, just like any other. History class was just a tad more boring than usual. I’d fall asleep in class and when I woke up to the loud ringing I’d notice that no one was in the classroom. I’d quickly get up from my seat and search around, but I’d find no one to be there. I’d exit the school, no one in the streets, no cars, no people, nothing but just things. I’d start to get extremely anxious, thinking the worst or not thinking at all. I’d run to the house my host family lived in. No one’s there either. I’d start crying and my breathing would get faster, I would be barely able to move. I’d run back out, not sure what to do. I’d see someone important to me out on the streets, like my Ma, boyfriend or one of my friends. I’d run to them, crying my eyes out, glad to see one of my loved ones even if it didn’t make sense for them to be there. I’d hug them, mumbling incoherent words. The person would then either turn into IT, a grotesque monster or just fade away. Either way, I’d be traumatised as fuck. IT would probably make witty/snarky comments, calling me “fairy boy” (I think a reappearing theme would be IT or bullies calling me things like fae or fag/faggot) and attack me, only for me to wake up in class screaming bloody murder. The teacher would send me to the principal’s office for disrupting the lesson. Depending which version of Pennywise this is, there’d be two outcomes; if it’s the 90′s version IT would taunt me while the principal lectured me about paying attention and not disrupting in class, I would be too in shock to say or do anything but sit pretty and listen. If it’s the 17′s version IT would probably appear a few times, just standing somewhere, drooling, maybe taunting me with a few words.

The few following days I would absolutely refuse to leave my room or sleep, I would barely even eat. The young child, who’s maybe like 8 or 10 years old, that my host family has would grow worried about me. I probably had gotten pretty attached to this kid, since I really enjoy spending time and taking care of younger kids (there’s a reason why I helped out multiple times at a local daycare where I live). They’d try to comfort me, in between subjects say how a creepy looking clown had been appearing around them. This would spark a burst of energy in me. I didn’t dare to tell the kid what the clown actually was about, how dangerous it was, I’d just say to stay far away from it.

I’d contact all of the Losers Club, shit was getting serious. Of course, they’d be confused as to why I suddenly decided to leave my room, Richie would probably say something about me finally getting my shit together or manning up. I’d ignore him and tell them what had happened to me and my host family’s kid. They then told about what had been happening to them as well. At this point, I realised that I have no idea where the hell I am in the storyline, but decided to continue nevertheless. I guess shit happens, cuz I can’t figure out what has already happened and what hasn’t. Uhhhh The only things I remember are the cliff/swimming scene, rock war scene and going to Ben’s weird conspiracy room scene. I wouldn’t have joined them on the swim since I don’t like swimming. I would’ve just been sitting somewhere, drawing and yelling whenever someone splashed water a bit too close (was there a shore/bank thing at the lake? I can’t remember). I definitely would’ve stayed a bit back when the rock war started, I don’t mess with that shit. I’d probably be impressed and a little freaked out by Ben’s room. Like dude, I know people got weird hobbies, but seriously?

Anyway, after figuring out where IT resides and heading to the Neighbolt house (is that how it’s spelt? I have no idea and my dyslexia isn’t helping), Bill, Richie and Eddie go in as I and the others stay behind, I’d probably make a joke about what kind of food they want at their funerals, Bev would smack me on the shoulder and Bill would tell me to shut up. Richie gets stuck in the clown room, Eddie breaks his arm, IT does some mad yoga poses and gets a rusted pipe through its head. After IT leaves with a bow and Eddie is taken home, I’d have the audacity to suggest getting ice cream to celebrate  I’d, of course, get some mean looks from the others, though Richie would probably give me a high-five. Here’s where the Losers Club breaks up and I can’t remember if anything happens, other than Bev getting kidnapped. We go back to the crackhead house, Mike gets attacked by the Henry McDickface and dies and Stan is attacked. In the “final” face-off I’d most likely stay back a bit again, not really the fighting type, mostly just making sure if anyone’s gonna need first-aid and how badly (I used to be am a scout, what’d you expect?).

The battle’s over, IT is defeated for now and we make a promise to group up again if IT were to ever come back. Thanks for reading. (I might do a follow-up after chapter 2 is released)

#self-insert #it 2017 #it #the losers club #pennywise #bill den #richie tozier #stan uris #mike hanlon #beverly marsh #ben hanscom #eddie kaspbrak #losers club #it 2017 spoilers #jojowritesthings #jojodrawsthings

[vaguely-present]

It’s so fucking crazy to finally leave a relationship that you have long wanted to, and that was toxic and abusive AF.

Like, I’m happy I’ve escaped your sexual harrassment, forced scenarios and you justifying forcing those things on me by saying you couldn’t help it. That that’s how you feel loved ! Oh, it’s just how you feel when you’re happy ! I always knew that was absolute bullshit and you were a creep and assaulter but 🤡 🤡 🤡🤡🤡🤡 for why I had no backbone to run.

I’m happy I escaped your constant lying and made up life, how everything you said had to be comb through to find reality. How you justified it by saying you were boring and didn’t want me to not like talking to you.

I’m happy I escaped how you played victim, how self-centered you were, and how everything horrible in my life could never be comforted—it had to turn back into how YOU’RE sad. You made my surgeries about you, you made my animals death about you, you made my anxiety attacks about you, and you made the breakup about you. You abandoned me during all of these times, dipping in and out to explain just how sad you were instead, for no reason at all, everything always had to come back to how sad you felt about everything, how you can’t comfort people and you need me to take care of you while I’m in the worst states of my life LMAO.

I’m happy I escaped someone who made me abandon my family on every holiday, only for you to not show up to spend it with me either, and repeated this same event for YEARS. Someone who I spent hundreds of dollars on regularly, who spent 3$ on my birthday with a wallpaper app LMAO 🤡. Someone who controlled my friends and made me leave my best friendship of a decade. Someone who didn’t let me speak to the opposite gender, for “trust issues”, and who moderated how I dressed and presented myself. Someone who claimed they changed in all these regards once they fully isolated me, but when I tried to seek for friends again, turned back to their old ways.

I’m happy I escaped someone who I knew was a cheater, and who admitted to it in the breakup. 🤡 You were so insecure and seeking any form of validation that I knew long before you ever admitted that this would happen. I’m happy I escaped someone who I had to force to go into community college and who still managed to fail LMAO. Someone who has never held a real job and admitted they don’t want to. Someone with zero direction in their life who wanted to be a house spouse and have me afford their living. Someone who faked suicide every time I tried to run away from them.

You were the worst relationship I had and I was an absolute clown for sticking it through and being loyal to you, as a partner and a friend. You are a pathetic excuse for a person, failed at everything you promised or set out to do, and a degenerate loser living at ya mom’s with no job. Have fun falling into your vices.

I’m most happy about not crying at all over this, only feeling the annoyance I was never allowed to express before, and I guess that can be attributed to the fact that I always knew. You didn’t surprise me, there was no person you lead me to believe in, I knew exactly who you were. You were always shit. And when it ended, what could I do but say, “That make sense, yeah.”