#radio richie is my weakness | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

andillwriteyouatragedy · 4 years

Note

ok ive been trying to think of a 90s reddie prompt all day but i havent thought of anything until now after so IF on the off chance you are still taking them: richie shaves his mustache

Eddie is incredibly suspicious of silence in his house.

Once upon a time, it would’ve been more suspicious for his house to have noise in it. The only sounds his mother would regularly make that he could hear were the television and her voice, shouting for him. Otherwise, the place would be silent like a crypt, his footsteps the only thing he ever heard echoing in the halls. At the time, he’d grown used to it; now, he knows better.

Now, living with Richie, it’d be strange if the house was quiet for longer than five minutes at a time. At any given point in the day, multiple televisions are on, radios are blaring, stereos leaking music; wherever Richie is, his loud voice is usually saying something, whether he’s on the phone or practicing bits or teasing Eddie.

The silence is, as he realizes, suspicious, now. Richie being quiet anywhere in the house when he’s home means he’s up to something he doesn’t want Eddie to hear.

“Richie?” Eddie calls from the sofa in their living room. Richie had gotten up from his spot beside Eddie ten minutes ago and vanished without a word about where he was going. The movie they had on had come back from its commercial break, but Richie hadn’t.

There’s a pause, and then Richie shouts back, “I’ll be there in a minute, Eds!”

Eddie doesn’t trust that for a second. He mutes their television before he pushes himself to his feet, abandoning the magazine he’d picked up when Richie left and his attention drifted without the running commentary on their movie.

“Richie,” Eddie says again, this time from the doorway of the living room. No response. “Richie, where did—”

“Eds, I’m fine, go back to the movie!” Richie shouts to him. Eddie realizes his voice is coming from upstairs, so he takes the steps as quickly as he can. On the second-floor landing, Richie says, “Eddie—”

Eddie finally pinpoints his voice and goes to their master bathroom, off their bedroom. The door is shut tight, and Eddie’s heart jumps into his throat. He knocks tentatively. “Richie? Are you okay?” There’s silence again. Eddie’s abruptly terrified. He knocks again, then says, “If you’re sick, I— I can help, there’s—”

“I’m not sick,” Richie tells him from inside the bathroom. There’s a beat, and then Eddie hears Richie sigh before something clatters in their sink. The lock on the door unclicks, and Richie says, “Come in.”

Frowning, Eddie pushes into their bathroom. He’s expecting to find Richie looking pale over the sink, maybe, or wan and slumped over their toilet or something, but he’s not. He looks just as healthy as he had when he’d gotten up from the sofa, except—

“You shaved your mustache,” Eddie says, bewildered. It’s just pointing out the obvious, but he very sincerely means to say “What the fuck have you done,” so stating the obvious is the next best thing.

“Yup,” Richie agrees. The clatter Eddie had heard was him dropping the razor blade into the sink when he was swapping it out to rinse.

“Why?” Eddie asks.

“Why?” Richie echoes. He grins, making eye contact with Eddie in the mirror, but he looks nervous. “Does it look bad? I thought you’d like it, you’re always making fun of the mustache.”

“Oh, honey, not because I don’t like it,” Eddie says. He steps up beside Richie and turns his face from the mirror so they can make eye contact on this side of the glass. “You know how handsome you are, don’t you?”

“No, I know you don’t mean it,” Richie says, and Eddie starts to argue, but Richie continues with, “I just meant— I’m just teasing. I don’t know why I shaved it.”

“You don’t know?” Eddie asks. Richie sighs; Eddie strokes the tips of his fingers over the new-smooth skin over his lip, staring down at the spot before his eyes flick back up to Richie’s. Richie’s eyes only stay on his for a moment before they fall down to Eddie’s mouth instead.

“I didn’t want it anymore,” Richie says. “I decided I was done with it so I just— did it.”

Eddie only makes it another second before he starts to laugh. Richie grins, too, and the fear and anxiety falls away from his face just like that. He drops the razor bits back onto their counter before taking Eddie’s face between his hands, sweeping him in for a kiss. They’ve only ever kissed while he had the mustache, so it’s unfamiliar and familiar all at once. When Richie licks into his mouth, spreading Eddie open under him so he can tighten his grip and deepen their kiss until it’s gone impossibly dirty.

When they separate, Eddie inhales sharply, threading his fingers through Richie’s hair at the back of his head. He surveys Richie’s face from this close, only inches away, maybe even less. Their glasses gently tap together as Eddie tips his chin up to let their eyes meet again.

“I think you look good,” Eddie tells him. Richie’s smile makes Eddie grin as he strokes the pad of his thumb across Richie’s upper lip. “I think you look very good.”

“Oh, yeah?” Richie asks.

“Oh, yes, very much,” Eddie says, before surging up into another kiss. Richie laughs into it, just for a breath before he gets with the program, too, turning their kiss from dirty to breathtakingly filthy, this time, until Eddie feels like he can barely stand up on his own, knees weak and stomach gone and his whole body filled with heat.

“Should I shave my head next?” Richie asks, and Eddie exclaims, “No,” grabbing Richie’s hair tight in his hand and yanking him down into another kiss to prove his point.

48 notes · View notes

chilling-seavey · 3 years

Text

Passchendaele WW2 Extension - Friends, Falls, and Close Calls

Notice from the RAF: This letter has been scanned and sensitive information has been removed for the safety of our nation.

Mum and Dad,

The British, Americans, and Canadians are planning an offensive for next spring, and training has already started. After four years of war, it’s about time we start to actually push back. A few towns in the south of England have been evacuated for us to stay and I feel badly sleeping in someone else’s bed while they are forced out of their homes. However, I must admit that it’s much more comfortable than the bunks on base. Charlie and I have met a few American soldiers here as they came over for training too. Their officers feel much more intimidating, but I suppose that’s how the work gets done. After four years it’s not like I’m unfamiliar with harsh orders and demands. Charlie and I are still flying our same plane and it’s nice to have that consistency. Not that it’s a terribly big deal to keep flying the same plane but it makes us feel like better pilots!

Anyway, I have to go. We have a drill in a few minutes and they wait for no one! I love you both lots.

Your son,

Richie

April 30, 1925

“Brrrrrrrrrrrrrr- good weather for a flight today.”

“Very good weather, Pilot Charlie.”

The boys were in the Besson’s front lawn in the spring afternoon with their toy planes in hand, running around with them held up to recreate their path of flying. They were mimicking the sounds of engines with their lips as they ran in circles around the perimeter of the yard. At seven-years-old, pretending to be pilots was their way to escape their little hometown and let their imaginations truly soar. It was their favourite little game.

They tried to speak over each other as they dialogued back and forth, making up a story as to where they were flying and why. The adults sat on the front porch with their tea, talking amongst themselves while the kids played, unphased by the boys’ shouting and little engine noises as they ran in circles together.

However, the two seven-year-olds weren’t terribly coordinated or good at looking where they were going and they ended up running right into each other in the middle of the yard, smacking together hard and both toppling backwards onto the grass. The impact stunned them into silence and they stared at each other with wide eyes, Charlie’s only going wider as he saw the blood trickling down his best friend’s chin.

Neither of them spoke for a moment and Richie finally lifted his hand to his mouth, finding his front tooth knocked out and his gum bleeding down his lips and chin. The boys just stared at each other, unmoving, their seven-year-old brains too in shock to even know what the heck to do next.

“Are you boys alright?” Corbyn asked from the porch as the four adults looked over at their sudden silence.

The boys turned to their parents with wide eyes, Richie’s blood dripping onto his shirt and the adults gasped at the state of him.

“Richard!” Christine gasped and jumped up to tend to her injured son.

Richard only broke into a grin and shrieked with laughter, “That was so cool!”

Christine stopped at the edge of the porch as the boys literally rolled on the grass in fits of laughter, obviously unhurt by their crash. Corbyn stood beside his wife as they watched their son wipe his chin with his shirt before turning to the grass to look for his missing tooth. When he found it, he jumped up and ran over to his parents, holding it up to them.

“Look! My tooth fell out!”

“I think your best friend knocked it out.” Corbyn laughed, holding out his hand to take the tooth from Richie.

“I’m sorry.” Charlie mumbled from a few feet back.

“Accidents happen. It was going to come out eventually.” Corbyn assured him.

Charlie nodded and shuffled up the porch to his mother’s outstretched hand, a small pout on his lips while Richie was taken inside to clean himself up and get a new shirt. Elizabeth pulled Charlie onto her lap and pressed a kiss to his cheek as he leaned back against her and Daniel passed their son a little tea biscuit from the table. Charlie smiled softly at his father and munched the treat gladly as he waited for his friend to return.

Moments later, the front door burst open and Richie came running about outside in clean clothes and a washed face and jumped down the front steps of the porch, “Come on, Charlie!”

May 20, 1943

“Come on, Charlie! Pull up!” Richard shouted from behind him.

The empty bullets flying around them only rose their anxieties as Charlie tugged hard on the joystick, but the plane wasn’t responding.

“It won’t fucking budge!” Charlie swore loudly, slamming his hand down against the dashboard as if it would help. “Piece of shit fucking plane, go up.”

“Well bloody well do something! They’re coming up behind us!” Richie ordered, panic apparent in his voice.

They chose a sharp dive instead, ducking out of the way of the next round of empty shells. Eleven thousand metres above the earth and under training fire from their officers and their controls were malfunctioning. They could only thank God it wasn’t real enemy fire or they would be done for.

Even still, the skies were filled with other RAF pilots deep in their training for dogfights that were to be expected once Operation Overlord was sent into action the following year. There was a lot of be done. Training was pushing them harder than normal and running drills in the dead of night to keep them on high alert at all times. It seemed the lack of sleep had caught up to Charlie and he had forgotten about the routine check of the plane that morning, missing the obvious malfunction in the wing.

To say he was panicking was an understatement and his anxieties only made Richie worse too, the two of them struggling to dodge their officers’ training fire by weak seconds. They were honestly yelling at each other in the cockpit, speaking over each other and arguing over directions and orders and the fact that no matter what they did they couldn’t go up.

“Did you not check the wings, Charles?” Richard shouted angrily.

“No! I forgot! We were in a rush! We were already late because you-”

“I didn’t do shit! It’s your job to check the plane before training! Fuck! What the hell do we do now, huh?! We’re going to crash and it’s going to be all your fault!”

“Stop fucking screaming at me for a second!” Charlie yelled. “Let me think!”

Richard grumbled unpleasantries under his breath as he glanced around them to make them aware of their officers’ ‘enemy’ planes in relation to their location. A flick caught his eye and he turned to the left to see a small flame sparking on their wing.

“Oh…shit. Charlie, we’re on fire. We’re on fucking fire, mate!” Richard said quickly, literally reaching forward to tap his best friend’s shoulder.

Charlie looked out the left side window and his eyes went wide as the small spark easily caught into a larger flame, “Christ. Okay. We gotta fucking land, right now.”

Charlie flicked a few switches on the dashboard, and they pushed down into a dive. The wind whipping past them only seemed to make the fire larger and Charlie turned on their radio to alert their squadron of their emergency landing as they made their way back towards the training base. Richard watched with wide eyes as scraps of metal flicked off the plane as the fire was eating them bit by bit.

“Oh God.” Richard whimpered, looking down to the dashboard in front of him to check their location. His eyes caught on the photographed painting of Saturn taped to the side of the display and he bit hard at his bottom lip, “Come on. Come on. Come on.”

“I see the base. Unbuckle, Richie. We’re gonna have to run. This thing’s gonna fucking explode.” Charlie said, keeping one hand on the dash to steer while his other unclipped the straps keeping him in as well as his large parachute in order to get an easy exit.

The plane was nearly shuttering and the cockpit was getting hot as the fire grew bigger and they were almost sure the wheels were about to snap off with how hard they hit the field beside the town they were training in.

“Pull back!” Charlie shouted loudly and both of them yanked hard on the controls to screech the plane to a stop.

The moment they were still, they clamoured out of the cockpit – Richie nearly falling right off the opposite wing as he jumped out and made a run for the town to get as far away from the plane as possible. Charlie stopped and turned back.

“Charles! Get the fuck out of there!” Richie screamed after him as he watched his best friend run back to the plane. “Are you mad?!”

Charlie held his hand over his mouth behind the smell of burning gas as he reached into the cockpit and snatched the photograph of him and his father from where it was taped to the dash. He then ran after Richard, toppling right into him with a startle as the plane exploded seconds later into a huge burst of flames. The two best friends hit the ground together, hands over their heads in fear they were still too close but after a moment they looked up to their safety. A few crew men were rushing over to tend to the destroyed plane as it sat in the middle of the field and burned black smoke high into the bright blue sky.

Charlie rolled over onto his back, panting, and pushed himself into a sitting position. Richard followed, giving his friend a hard shove to the shoulder.

“Bastard. We could have fucking died…and not even honourably: in training, for Christ’s sake.”

Charlie let out a deep exhale and held his face in his hands for a moment, the sweat dripping from his hairline making a trail down his cheek and across his jaw, and he took a few breaths before looking down at the photograph he ran back for. He held it to his chest and looked up to the sky through his breathlessness. “I’m sorry, Richie. I should have checked the plane. I’m a fucking fool.”

Richard sighed and tucked his knees up towards his chest as they watched their plane burn, “Nah, you’re not. Accidents happen.”

Charlie sniffled and nodded lightly, glancing back down at the picture in his hand, “I didn’t grab your photograph.”

“That’s alright.” Richie assured him. “Real thing’s hanging in my bedroom back home anyway. One more second over there and they’d be pulling you out of that mess of flames.”

Charlie didn’t answer, just stared down at his picture.

“You didn’t grab any of Mary’s things.” Richard noted.

Charlie sniffled and shrugged, “This was the only thing I could even think of, truthfully.”

Richard smiled at his best friend and they looked back to their plane. There was a moment of silence as they sat on the grass together.

Richie spoke up first casually, “What was that Mary said about this being a ‘lucky plane’?”

Charlie cracked a small smile at his best friend’s teasing joke and nudged him playfully with his elbow. Richard draped his arm around him and they leaned together quietly, watching their once beloved plane destroy itself into flames.

Taglist: @randomlimelightxxx @hopinglimelight @hiya-its-amber @chanelwonders

#✉#why dont we #daniel seavey #corbyn besson #daniel seavey fanfic #corbyn besson fanfic

12 notes · View notes

stenbrozier · 4 years

Text

Blue Eyes (EMT!Eddie Kaspbrak x Reader)

Plot: You get into a car accident, and Eddie’s ambulance is the first to respond. She’s responsive at first, but when she goes into cardiac arrest, it’s Eddie’s job to save her and make sure she lives.

Warnings: descriptions of car accident, cardiac arrest, descriptions of CPR, descriptions + mentions of blood, minor character death, EMT!Eddie is a warning in itself, also maybe there’s EMT!Richie too cause he’d lowkey be so good at that + swearing

A/N: I read a fic a while ago about Nurse!Eddie, though I thought he was an EMT but that was Richie, and I just want Eddie to be an EMT. Also, I have a few more ideas with him as an EMT, so if y’all are interested please tell me 🥺☺️

——————————————————————————

Eddie sat in the waiting room of the hospital, sipping his coffee and greeting patients as he pointed them towards the front desk, asking them if they were visiting or if they needed medical attention. Out of the seven people he met, five were visiting and two were an expecting mother and her husband, tears steaming down her face as her husband gave Eddie and kind smile in acknowledgment before gesturing towards the girl in his arms. He put his coffee onto an end table and rushed them over to the front desk, calling for a stretcher to come and take her up to the maternity wing. Nurse Miller, one of the best midwives they had, rushed out, grabbing the woman from Eddie and her husband’s grasp. The man waved at Eddie as a ‘thank you’, running after his wife and the nurse with a weird dizziness in his steps.

Eddie walked back over to the sliding glass doors, grabbing his cup and finishing off the bitter, cold liquid at the bottom of the cup before getting a call on his radio.

“Kaspbrak, Tozier,” Eddie’s ears perked up as he rushed to the trash can and felt for the ambulance keys in his pocket, “accident on I-295. Truck tipped over and a car totaled. The fire department will meet you there.” Eddie ran to back of the building, rushing out the door and meeting Tozier, one of the other EMTs before hopping into the driver’s seat of the truck. Tozier replied to the call as Eddie peeled out of the parking lot, turning on the sirens and lights as they sped out to the highway.

Upon arriving at the scene, Eddie jumped out of the car, seeing that the fire department had already taken the woman out of the totaled car and dragged her from it, checking her pulse and trying to get her to talk. Tozier ran to the truck, pulling the man out as he performed CPR. Eddie kneeled next to the woman’s head, seeing the glass shards in her head and starting to take them out, hearing her wince lightly as blood poured onto the ground around them, soaking Eddie’s knees through hair pants.

“Hey, hey, I’m Eddie. Can you tell me your name?” Eddie asked calmly, trying it get the woman to open her eyes or mouth or do something else to show more signs of life than just her weak exhales of breath.

She opened her eyes slightly, their shiny, blue color searching for his face and focusing on his eyes. Eddie smiled down at her, rubbing the blood out of her hairline before moving down to the rest of her body, seeing the huge gash in her chest and bruises that littered her neck.

“Fuck,” he whispered softly. He looked up at the fire fighters, gesturing towards the ambulance. “Get me scissors, gauze, and bandages!”

He looked around for his partner, seeing Tozier stand up in defeat, running his hands through his hair as another ambulance pulled up. Tozier looked at the other EMTs solemnly, watching as they went back to get a stretcher for the now dead trucker.

“I need to cut off your clothes,” he said to the girl below him, watching her eyes as they seemed to move back and forth on their own. “Can you tell me your name?”

“It’s...it’s... (Y-Y/N),” the woman replied quietly, her eyes starting to close as the blood continued to pour out of her body. Eddie reached up, his gloved hands prying open her eyes to see the blue of them once again.

“Okay, (Y/N), stay with me,” he said softly. “Were you on your way home from work?” She nodded lightly, the movement barely noticeable as she reached up at him. “I’ve got you, don’t worry. I’ll fix you all up.”

“I-I need to get home,” she said quietly. “My-my dog needs...he needs...” Her voice trailed off as her eyes shut and her arm fell down.

Eddie reached up fast, feeling for her pulse. It was weak for the first few seconds he felt it, but when it stopped completely, he started to panic. The fire fighters came back with the supplies he asked for, and he immediately cut off her shirt, noticing that the gash was close to her heart.

“Fuck,” he screamed even louder, catching the attention of his partner who then ran over. “Cut of her shirt! I’ll give her CPR!”

Eddie lightly moved (Y/N)’s face as Tozier cut the shirt off in record time, backing away as Eddie started his compressions. Eddie did 5 cycles of CPR before he screamed for someone to get the AED. He hooked it up with shaky hands, never having someone die on his watch. He was so scared of having her die that he almost forgot to tell everyone to clear when the AED went off.

The AED sent her a shocks a few more times before it was safe for Eddie to check her pulse again. When he felt it, he smiled, unhooking the AED and immediately getting to cleaning the gash on her chest. Tozier went and got the stretcher, helping Eddie lift her up onto the stretcher and into the back of the ambulance.

“Rich,” Eddie snapped, climbing into the back of the ambulance and pointing to the front, “drive.”

Tozier nodded, scrambling to the front as Eddie climbed into the back with (Y/N), checking her pulse every minute or so to make sure she was still alive.

——————

The beeping from the heart monitor woke (Y/N) out of her sleep, her eyes squinting from the fluorescent lights that washed over the bland, white room. Someone knocked on the door and walked in, peeking their head in. (Y/N) furrowed her eyebrows, the man looking vaguely familiar. He walked in with a nervous smile, wringing his hands as he shut the door behind him. He was wearing an EMT uniform, the knees on the pants looking darker then the rest of the dark blue uniform.

“H-hey,” he stuttered out, running his hand through his hair. “I’m Eddie. I, uh, well...Tozier and I saved you earlier.” He nervously laughed, letting out a breath of air through his nose. “Can-can I sit?”

(Y/N) nodded, gesturing with her head at the chair next to her bed. “Why you’d come and see me?” Her voice was weak and frail, and Eddie’s heart broke a little after he heard it.

“You’re the first patient I’ve ever almost...lost,” he softly responded. “I-I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

The girl nodded, doing her best to sit up a little in her bed. Her midsection screamed, and when she winced, Eddie stood up and gently pushed her shoulders back down. He shook his head, bringing the blanket back up her.

“You shouldn’t stand,” Eddie warned. “The chest wound was pretty bad.” He looked to the crown of her head, noticing the the little bandages that riddled the holes on her head that were left by the shards of glass. “You has so much glass in your forehead.”

“Yeah...I was told,” (Y/N) whispered, watching as Eddie furrowed his eyebrows. Suddenly, she was reminded of her dog, home all alone. “Eddie, do you know if they got a hold of one of my emergency contacts? I-I have a dog at home and-“

“I...I hope you don’t mind, but I took care of it. None of your contacts were answering, so I took it upon myself to go over when my shift was finished. Your building manager gave me the key after I explained the situation.” Eddie rubbed his hands over his thighs nervously.

“Is Ralphie okay?” she asked softly. “Cause he gets scared when he’s home by himself for too long.” Eddie laughed, looking into her blue eyes for a few seconds, noticing the tears threatening to fall.

“He seemed okay,” Eddie responded, reaching over to the woman laying in the hospital bed and grabbing her hand. “Thought I was a little strange though. I actually just came from there.”

(Y/N) looked at him, noticing the way he seemed to shake like a leaf while looking at her. She took in his messy, dark hair and chocolate eyes. His stubble defined his jawline, making him look more like a man because she knew that if he was clean shaven, he would’ve looked like a 16 year old boy just hitting puberty. Eddie stared back into her eyes, taking in the shape of her nose and face and how the tiny bandages seemed to peel back the wrinkles from all of the years of furrowing her brow. He smiled at her, tentatively rubbing his thumb across her hand.

“Uh, they told me to tell you that you could be released tomorrow, after they ran some more tests. Do you have anyone to come pick you up?”

(Y/N) shrugged her shoulders. “My parents don’t live around here and I’m the only person I know who has a car.”

Now’s your chance Ed, he thought to himself. Make a move. Or as much of a move as you can make on a lady who was just in a nearly fatal car accident.

“Would-would you want me to, uh, take you home?” he asked cautiously. “I get if you don’t want to and you would rather have someone you know well, but-“

(Y/N) laughed at his nervous rambling. “You saved my life and fed my dog. If you think you’d have time, I’d appreciate it.”

Eddie smiled at her, his eyes sparkling. She smiled back, moving slowly to her side so that she could see him fully. She caught the red tint in his pants, and she suddenly had chills going down her spine. Eddie followed her line of sight.

“Is-is that-“ She couldn’t speak as she felt tears start to fall down her face. “I-I-I ruined your work pants.” Eddie guffawed at this, not at the fact that she was crying but simply because she thought that he cared about one pair of his work pants being ruined.

“Fuck the pants,” he said as he wiped tears from his eyes with his free hand. “All that matters is you’re alive.”

He let go over hand, standing up and looking down at her with a soft smile on his face.

“Do you have to go?” (Y/N) asked softly, her bottom lip jutting out in a fake pout as Eddie smiled. He ran his hand through her hair, nodding as he checked on her heart monitor out of habit.

“I just worked a twelve,” he replied, feeling his pockets to make sure he had everything and didn’t leave something in the break room. “I’ll go ask what time you release is and then I’ll come get you, okay?”

“Okay,” (Y/N) said, her voice a little stronger as she watched him walk towards the door. He turned around, giving her a small wave and a smile, before walking out. (Y/N) sat in silence for a while, thinking and smiling about the young, awkward EMT that saved her life.

#eddie kaspbrak smut #eddie kaspbrak headcanons #eddie kaspbrak x reader #richie tozier x reader #stanley uris x reader #mike hanlon x reader #ben hanscom x reader #beverly marsh x reader #bill denbrough x reader #it chapter one imagines #it chapter two imagines #masterlist

91 notes · View notes

strawberryaziraphale · 4 years

Text

reddie + motorcycle

Richie had purchased the bike as a graduation present, having saved up the money from his summer job at the radio station. His parents had tried to influence him to buy a car which, in their opinion, was more practical for someone heading to college. But as soon as Richie had laid eyes on the old-fashioned Yamaha motorcycle, he’d fallen in love with it.

His friends were in awe of his new ride. Bill and Bev were eager to take it for a spin, Ben and Mike less keen but still agreed but the one Richie was most desperate to take out was Eddie. Eddie Spaghetti, the love of his teenage life. He was a dream. Eddie had changed a lot since they were children. He’d grown up, stopped listening to his mother and started hearing himself. He was going to college against his mother’s wishes, he had dyed his hair to a beautiful sunny blond (Richie had nearly fainted the first time he’d seen it) and he occasionally indulged in cigarettes and alcohol. And Richie discovered that Eddie’s new found rebellious side did things to him.

That wasn’t to say Eddie was completely reckless. A lifetime of being suffocated and made to feel he was weak by his mother had had an effect on him. Even now, he was eyeing Richie’s bike nervously, biting his lip.

“Are you sure it’s safe?”

Richie rolled his eyes. It was just the two of them outside Eddie’s house in the cool evening air. Richie had promised to take Eddie to one of his favourite spots to watch the sunset. He handed Eddie the spare helmet and leather jacket.

“Come on, Eds. I’d never let anything happen to my favourite Loser,” he winked, jamming his own helmet over his curls, “anyway, if we did crash, you’d look hot with a scar.”

“Fuck you,” Eddie chuckled, carefully fixing his hair before fixing his helmet into place. Richie held out his hand and Eddie sighed, taking it for the other boy to help him onto the bike, “take it easy, won’t you, Rich? I don’t wanna throw up on you.”

Richie just laughed, sitting in front of Eddie and kicking the bike into action. He took Eddie’s hands and wound them around his waist, shouting over the noise of the engine, “hold on tight, Eds.”

And they were off, faster than Eddie had expected. He clung to Richie, holding him tightly as they hit the bumpy road. As the road flattened and evened out, Eddie started to relax and appreciate the journey. He turned to rest his cheek against Richie’s back, watching the city lights fly past them. The turns were the worst thing about the trip. Eddie felt as though he was going to be unseated every time Richie leaned into a turn but he held on, praying he wouldn’t throw up. Eventually, Richie pulled over in some meadow, stopping his bike next to a nearby tree. Eddie stumbled off the bike and wriggled the helmet free from his head, a huge smile spread across his face.

“That was awesome!” Eddie breathed in, feeling incredibly exhilarated. He felt like he could run a marathon, “what a rush! I’ve never felt so fucking free!”

Richie was watching him with a fond smile on his face, removing a pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket, “great, isn’t it? I knew you’d like it.”

“Yeah,” Eddie had collapsed onto the grass and was staring up at the sky, still grinning. He felt Richie drop next to him, offering him a cigarette. Eddie took it, taking a drag, “why are we here anyway?”

“I come here a lot to watch the sunset. It’s so peaceful,” Richie watched as Eddie blew smoke rings. It was incredibly attractive. He had to look away quickly before he ended up embarrassing himself, “um, I’m usually on my own but it’s so beautiful I wanted to share it with someone. It’s just really...”

“Romantic,” Eddie finished automatically, finishing his cigarette and flicking it somewhere into the grass. He glanced over at Richie, fighting a smile when he noticed the other boy was blushing.

“Err, yeah. I guess. Haven’t really thought about it, I dunno.”

Eddie looked at him sweetly but whatever smartass comment he’d been about to make was cut off by the setting sun. He pushed himself to sit and Richie did the same, the two of them enjoying the lovely view. Eddie discreetly looked down, noticing how close their hands were on the grass. He smiled, inching his fingers closer to Richie’s.

“Thank you, Richie. For sharing this with me.”

Richie also looked down at their hands, closing the gap and linking his fingers with Eddie’s. He swallowed, glancing up and seeing Eddie looking back at him softly, “uh, no worries. Anything to see you in leather, Spaghetti.”

His laughter died in his throat as Eddie shuffled closer, leaning over to rest his head on Richie’s shoulder. Richie could barely hear over the sound of his racing heart. He couldn’t stop smiling as he reached up, playing with the curls at the base of Eddie’s neck. The smaller boy sighed, his eyes closing as they enjoyed their moment. Richie and Eddie stayed there for the longest time, just being together. Richie kissed the top of Eddie’s head gently in the light of the setting sun. Later, Eddie kissed him properly in the moonlight outside his house, reluctantly letting him go afterwards. They were in love and nothing was going to change that. They had their whole lives ahead of them and Richie couldn’t wait for it to get started.

#give me rebellious eddie. give me biker richie #richie x eddie #reddie #eddie x richie #reddie fanfic #my writing

82 notes · View notes

complacencyavp · 3 years

Text

AvP: Requiem Revisions

Most of the below isn’t going to be seen or mentioned outside of maybe a prologue for the fanfiction that I doubt will ever progress beyond an overly detailed draft and some snippets, focusing on fan characters. I’m not all that happy with what I have below, but hope it makes a bit more sense then the movie. I am really confused by the timeline of it something I hope I addressed here.

I tried to focus on human character interactions, relationships, and the fall of the town as they preoccupied far too much of the screen though aren't memorable. Let the two who lost their partners bond early on, the brothers reconcile, use the army woman and the ex-convict brother as foils for each other.

The death of the child(ren) and pregnant woman is something that I’d much rather have been implied rather than shown. If you're going to show such things let it have an influence and not just be ceaseless violence. Regardless, I prefer AVP:R to what we got with Shane Black’s The Predator (I am on the spectrum myself).

Gunnison, Colorado plays a big role in one of my fan characters, Andreanna’s story. Her mother lived through the event and though she moved to the cities hoping to escape it, she is still tied to the town. Her daughter, Andreanna, is driven to find out what happened and due to custodial concerns ends up living with her grandfather and frequents the cordoned area frequently which eventually leads to her “abduction”.

The destruction of the town leads to a war on terrorism in my fanfiction furthering Weyland’s, Yutani’s, Borgia’s, and others' progress. She goes on to mention Gunnison a few times with some rather disturbing connotations.

The following is canon divergent with what occurred over a few nights occurring over a far longer period. Once again, I’d much rather have a lot of some of the more horrible scenes be implied not shown.

Day 1.

The Yautja ship crashes in the woods. Dallas Howard, a recently released convict in a case for burglary gone wrong is released. Molly (army mom) also gets off at the same stop, having been away for a few years she is unaware of his history among the town and talks to the other about missing her kid and asks him if he is missing anyone, Dallas mentions his brother fondly.

Sam (the kid, 8-10 years old with heterochromia) and Buddy Benson (his middle-aged? dad) are out hunting deer and find the Yautja ship. Fearing for their safety they flee but are implanted, disillusioned, and lost they spend a night out in the woods waking up and trying unsuccessfully to find their way home. The chest bursters emerge the following evening, day 2.

The face hugger that got shot ends up elsewhere.

Day 2.

Darcy (Sam’s Mother) reaches out to file a missing person’s report, she mentions that they were out hunting deer to the police officer Ray. And that every time they went camping previously, they usually called her every night, if not the following morning. Both parents looked pretty old so Sam is their miracle baby.

Ray, expecting his own child,promises to look into it and heads up to where she said they usually camp, doesn’t find anything and radioed the others to set up a search later that day.

The police officers set out looking for them. Eddie Morales, a corrupt or at minimum a shady sheriff goes and talks to the pair of homeless men that call their storm drain their home. The other cops stop searching at 8, when the sun goes down but Ray doesn’t.

Ray is skinned by the “predalien”. In some deleted scenes the three Yautja, predators, on the ship were skinned by the abomination. If there was an infestation I don’t think Wolf would waste the time unless he did it first thing so I'm skipping over that.

Day 3.

Wolf arrives and lands his ship in a swamp, upon realizing what aided in bringing the ship down and killing the crew. Wolf determines that he is unprepared and salvages what he can. He instructs the other ship to detonate before setting off in search of the serpents tracking their secretions. He findings the across the first two to be hosts and takes the time to close their eyes before dissolving them. Disgusted by Ray's corpse poorly skinned draped over a tree and gives it the same treatment.

Another search party with volunteers is quickly organized (tourists getting lost is common); they aren’t able to find either the first two victims or Ray. Carrie, Ray’s pregnant wife comes to the scene as well as Darcy, both mothers are distressed.

High school drama occurs with Ricky’s keys being stolen by bully Dale and tossed into the storm drains. Show some government stuff going on in the background or at least company with stereotypical vehicles. Only Darcy and Dallas notice.

The remaining three face-huggers attack the two men (Harry+other) and woman in the sewer. The one on the woman is about to implant itself when it is ripped away from her face and tossed aside by the abomination. Given the spirit of AVP:R, their dog was probably “repurposed” too.

Day 4.

Ricky and Dallas go into the storm drain but are spooked by hissing and a “large snake” and leave. Morales (shady cop) finds them leaving and is confused, confronting the older brother after dropping Ricky off at his job.

He brings Dallas (ex-convict) to the “Breakfast All Day Dinner” where much to his surprise Carrie is working, unable to sleep. She becomes distressed by the other's presence and the uncertainty of what happened to her husband and retreats to the back room.

Morales has some level of responsibility in Ricky and Dallas’s situation, and feels responsible for Ricky’s care on some level?

Jessie stops uninvited by Ricky’s house. A bad storm hits, Jessie and Ricky get to talk about how they figured their lives would have been different- her home was one robbed by his brother's gang which resulted in the end of their friendship(?). They flirt.

The fight in the sewer occurs causing the hive to scatter after Wolf kills some more space cockroaches.

Wolf tracks down the hive’s new nest, late at night, but there are only a few present, he also gets impaled in the process. The town's power supply is damaged and begins to fail. Though it’s after closing Carrie stays behind with Richie to try to get the generator working for the dinner. She starts it and heads back in only to be accosted.

Army couple has difficulties in their marriage as Molly, struggling to relate to her daughter, contemplates returning to duty. The power has been out for a while and their argument is disrupted by Kelly (their daughter) who is distressed seeing a monster, she often sleeps with her light on and only has a flashlight, her mother opens the closet but doesn't find anything.

Day 5.

Darcy becomes concerned about Carrie (old student of hers?), not answering her calls, and goes to the dinner- the closed sign is still up but the backdoor is open so she goes on in, it's not pretty. She hears something rustling before she gets the lights on.

Darcy calls another police officer in hysterics. The other police aren’t sure what to make of things but, agree with her that Dallas’s return is suspicious, her testimony put him away before. Unable to find proof, that he did it but, with him having an alibi they don’t charge him despite Darcy’s insistence. Dallas stays in jail on some other charge another cooked up(improper vehicle license?). Chaos sets ins once it starts to storm.

That “no monster” scene occurs where the child’s dad, Tim, is killed and Molly, mom drags her out of the house though bottoms out on a weak stretch of road that had caved in from the fight earlier; heads to the police for aid.

Shady cop goes and gets Dallas’s brother worrying for his safety, reuniting the family. Molly is wary of Dallas after hearing what happened but wonders if it might be the same thing.

Day 6.

National Guard arrives at 2 am the following day and begins trying to evacuate those outside certain areas, it causes additional panic and strain upon setting the boundaries, not helped by Darcy’s fear-mongering at church.

The power in the hospital starts to go out forcing the doctors and nurses to rearrange patients to care for them using the emergency generator- xenos get in late at night.

Orders change and the national guard goes to keeping people contained causing riots and shootings. Shady cop and older brother rob a gun store have their first real confrontation with the monsters. Jessie's ex-boyfriend (show/mention him being rash) puts the group in danger and dies.

Xeno ambush in town.

Day 7.

Chaos and the storm continue though everything is strangely silent and clear, Morales connects with Colonel Stevens who tells them to rendezvous in the center of town for an airlift. Kelly takes an abandoned tank and figures the gov is lying to them. The order changed and they want to keep the creatures contained (where they would be bait). Morales stays with the group (having some loyalty to the brothers), Darcy leaves with another small group to the center of town.

The hospital is a mess, doctors and patients are corpses. The walls are weird as is any cramped, enclosed area, the reception area is startlingly clear. The elevator doesn’t work and thus they have to use the stairs. Ricky is skewered and is still bleeding badly despite the armor.

Looking for bandages they stumble across the pediatric center, it is frighteningly still, the nursery is empty, but they persist and enter into a room with hollowed corpses. They hurry off once one that is intact twitches.

Wolf ventures to the hospital pursuing his prey. His presence pisses the xenos off. Molly and Kelly see the “one with eyes” amongst the halls fighting the others. Jessie is killed by a wayward shuriken from Wolf.

Humans try to make it through the roof but, are nearly swarmed. Ex-con steals fallen alien weapon on the roof seing the other use it. Shady Cop chooses to save the group by pulling a fire alarm, an unexpected surprise.

Wolf and the predalien fight, Wolf takes off his mask and the thing waits. US gov nukes the area- explodes, sets off Wolfs bomb-implodes leaving the area decimated.

Day 8.

The helicopter is quickly found though their fate is up in the air, they've made it out, at a cost, and even then that's not a certainty. Yutani receives the gun.

Other Notes:

Sewers/storm drains are built far larger as it was intended to be the site of the nearby army base though the contract fell through once significant faults were identified.

The bombing is passed off as a terrorist attack with it being said to have been sent to target the nearby army base. The US used this to push a war.

Schisms occurred amongst the hive, with slightly different appearances in build and growth rates across those spawned by the abomination (12 hours) versus those from the face-huggers (18-24 hours). Perhaps there was infighting amongst the sections of the hive hence why there were a few “nest site locations”.

The alien-predator skinned the cop and waited which may imply at some level of remembering, all the more reason why they are terrifying to Yautja.

If you have suggestions or questions feel free to leave them in the inbox.

#complacencyavp #avp #aliens vs predator #yautja #xenomorph #avp:r

4 notes · View notes

softest-cinnamon-roll · 4 years

Note

9 and 24 for the smutty Reddie prompts!! 🖤

9. “Try to stay quiet, understand?”

24. “Behave”

warning: notsfw & fem!reddie (thank you to brooke @shortcake-kaspbrak for reading this over for me!

* * * * *

Eddie sat in front of the mirror, adding the last few touches of gloss to her lips in preparation for a night out with her friends. It was her girlfriend, Richie’s, birthday and all of the Losers agreed that it was going to be a nice meal followed by some drinks. They were now in the second half of their twenties, and as much as clubbing used to be what Eddie loved most, nice meals and spending time with her girlfriend scored high above that.

She slipped out of her chair and unhooked the dress she had hanging over her wardrobe especially for tonight. Eddie had big plans, and she wanted Richie to have an amazing birthday, even if she did want to tease her just a little bit. It was a baby pink skater dress with an open back and a skirt that reached her knees. Her heels were small, but complimented her hair perfectly. The last touch was her hair, and as Eddie pulled it out of its bun, allowing the blonde locks to cascade down her back, she looked in the mirror.

“Damn baby, are you trying to kill me here?” A voice came from the bedroom doorway and Eddie turned around to face her girlfriend, who was also all dressed up and ready to go. It was a rare occasion that Richie properly dressed up, as she much preferred her outlandish shirts and high waist jeans, but tonight? Richie looked drop dead gorgeous.

Gone were the shirt and jeans, and in their place was a stylish purple jumpsuit and black wedges that made her even taller against Eddie’s petite frame. Eddie licked her lips, careful not to smudge her lip gloss, “I should be saying the same thing to you. You- fuck Rich...you look amazing.”

Richie laughed, a sound that never failed to make Eddie weak at the knees and strode forwards, backing Eddie up against the wall of their bedroom. One of Richie’s hands moved to the hem of Eddie’s dress, carefully sliding underneath and up her inner thigh. Before she even reached the hem of her panties, Eddie was gasping into the open air, cheeks flushed. “You're going to be a good girl for me tonight?” Richie asked, her lips skimming over Eddie’s neck.

“Y-Yes,” Eddie breathed, nodding her head as it tilted back against the wall. She was sure that Richie would just pull away and lead her out the door, but instead, her hand slipped further up and then into her panties, two fingers lightly rubbing over her clit. “R-Richie…”

Then they were gone, just like that. Richie pulled her hand away from between Eddie’s legs and stepped back, grinning devilishly at the already flustered state of her girlfriend. “Good. Come on baby, don’t want to be late for my own birthday now, do I?”

Eddie shook her head and regained just a little bit of control, following Richie out of the room and grabbing her clutch on the way out the door. If Richie was going to play mean before the night even started, then Eddie was going to give her a run for her money. After all, it was what Richie loved about her the most, the way she was a challenge and majority of the time, a little brat.

By the time they got to the restaurant, their friends were already sitting down with drinks. Richie gave Eddie a little glance as they made their way over to the table, greeting the group with smiles on their faces. Bev stood up first, wrapping her arms around Richie’s neck to wish her a happy birthday, followed by her boyfriend Ben. Stan and his girlfriend Patty were next, followed by Bill and his fiance Audra. Finally, Mike, who had flown out from Florida for Richie’s birthday, took his turn and they all sat down to order.

Of course, Eddie knew that Richie deserved this meal. She had been working her butt off at the radio station, building up listeners and momentum in the hopes of gaining a promotion to her own breakfast show. It was the most sought after gig and no-one at that station had ever seen a woman run the breakfast show, which made Richie want it all the more. Yet, regardless, Richie had lit the fire inside of Eddie earlier that evening, and she was currently very frustrated...and very fucking horny.

“Richie…” Eddie cooed into her girlfriend's ear about half way through their entrees. She was in the middle of a conversation with Bev and without answering Eddie, placed a hand on her thigh, squeezing tight. It was one of Richie’s warnings, one they had used since the beginning of their relationship. Eddie knew that if she pushed Richie just a little bit more, she wouldn’t only be in for a punishment that evening, but she might not even get to come. That thought made Eddie shiver just a little, as much as she loved teasing Richie, the thought of not being allowed to come was too much to bear. She was so horny that Eddie knew if Richie was to touch her now, she would have a hard time holding it together.

“So are we going to hear wedding bells any time soon, you guys?” Patty asked, looking between Eddie and Richie, grinning from ear to ear. As the longest relationship in the group, it only made sense that the two of them would be the first to tie the knot, yet it still seemed a long time away.

Richie finished off her glass of wine and wrapped an arm around Eddie’s shoulders, “We’ve definitely thought about it, but Eds and I are still really focused on our careers. Eds with running the children's ward at the hospital and me trying to get that breakfast show gig...marriage isn’t really a priority right now, is it Eds?”

As much as Eddie wanted to marry Richie, she had to agree, they were just too busy, “Richie’s right, once everything calms down and we do decide it’s time, we promise you’ll be the first to know!”

The night continued and slowly the friends all parted ways until it was only Eddie, Richie and Mike left at the table. It was now coming on nine thirty, and Eddie really wanted Richie to take her home and get her out of this damn dress. Yet no matter how hard Eddie tried to get Richie’s attention, her focus remained on Mike and her interest in his job in Florida.

“Richie…” Eddie whimpered for what felt like the millionth time and Richie let out a sigh, turning around to face her, eyes glazed with warning. “I-I can’t drink anymore…”

Before Richie could answer, Mike laughed and stood up, “I think we can call it a night ladies. Thank you very much for the lovely evening and have an amazing rest of your birthday Rich.” Mike winked at the two of them as he slipped out of the booth, stopping at the bar to pay the rest of the tab, and out the door.

“I thought you said you were going to be a good girl for me, Eds?” Richie asked when Mike was well and truly gone. Eddie slunk a little into the seat, her cheeks flaming red. “Get up, we’re going home.” She nudged Eddie and they slipped out of the booth before catching a cab to take them back to their apartment.

The second they stepped through the door, Richie’s fingers were in Eddie’s hair and she was shoved up against the wall. “Richie-” Eddie gasped, whimpering as her girlfriend slipped her knee between her legs, rolling a little against her already soaking wet pussy. “Please?”

Richie stopped, looking down at her smaller girlfriend and tiled Eddie’s chin up so their eyes could meet. “You think you deserve more than what I’m giving you? You think after the way you behaved like a needy bitch tonight that you deserve for me to touch you?” Richie stepped back and sighed. “Normally, I wouldn’t touch you for the way you acted tonight, but it is my birthday and I think I deserve to get some action on my birthday. Turn around.”

Eddie whimpered, but followed Richie’s orders and spun around to face the wall. Her breathing was laboured as she thought about what Richie was going to do to her, her head spinning with arousal and need. She gasped as Richie tugged her hair back and tied it in a loose ponytail before unzipping her dress. She pulled the straps from her shoulders and let it fall to the floor, pooling at her feet. A shiver ran down her spine as Richie trailed her fingers from her neck all the way down to the front of her panties and back up.

“Take off your shoes and go to the bedroom. I want you to pick out some cuffs and a blindfold and be on the bed naked by the time I get there.”

The second Richie stopped speaking, Eddie was kicking off her shoes and practically running down the hall. She picked a pair of the strap cuffs and the baby blue blind fold before slipping out of her panties and laying down on the bed, her legs spread. It was just in time too, as Richie sauntered into the bedroom, still fully dressed and lust in her eyes. “At the start of the night, I thought that my birthday would end with my girlfriend giving me multiple orgasms.” She started, moving onto the bed and grabbing the cuffs, attaching Eddie’s arms above her head to the headboard. “But now, I think that it’ll end with me fully dressed and you, a writing mess on our bed.”

“Richie…” Eddie moaned, pulling on the cuffs to test the strength as Richie placed the blindfold over her eyes, blocking her vision. “Please…”

Richie covered Eddie’s mouth with her hand then, clearing her throat. “Try to stay quiet, understand?” She asked and Eddie shuddered, nodding her head. “And, behave. You do one thing out of line, and you won’t get to come.”

With those words, Richie began the most torturous evenings of Eddie’s life to date. First, Richie moved her hand between Eddie’s legs, running her fingers through her wetness before rubbing her clit so perfectly that Eddie felt herself on the edge within seconds. Richie wasn’t stupid though, she could read Eddie’s body like a well known book, and the second she felt her get close, the fingers were gone and so was her orgasm.

The same procedure continued for what felt like hours. Richie brought Eddie right to the edge, demanding that she hold her orgasm before pulling away, leaving her more frustrated than the last time. Sweat was pouring down her body, and a moan left her lips as she felt Richie’s tongue run up her stomach to her cleavage.

“Oh my god,” Eddie breathed, rolling her hips as Richie moved her mouth to each of her nipples, teasing the buds relentlessly and chuckling as Eddie could only tug against the cuffs and spread her legs wider. Leaving her breasts, Richie continued her way down Eddie’s body, until her head was between her legs, staring at the wetness her girlfriend was producing.

“You’re so fucking wet, Eds. Are you really that desperate?” Richie hummed, fingers trailing through the wetness and dipping a finger inside. “You are, fuck. Remember, tell me when you’re close.” As soon as the words left Richie’s lips, her mouth was on Eddie’s clit, sucking and lapping at it, as two fingers slipped into her soaked entrance and picked up a brutal pace.

One curl upwards and Richie’s fingers were rubbing against that spot inside of Eddie, making her cry out with a cracked voice, “Close! Rich, I'm close!”

Richie pulled away and Eddie let out a sob as her orgasm disappeared in front of her once again. Richie pressed a kiss to Eddie’s inner thigh, her fingers moving to rub light circles around her clit. “You really think I’m going to let you come, huh? After the way you were at dinner?” She picked up the pace on her movements, using her fingers to expose Eddie’s clit and leaning down to lap at it.

Eddie let out a shuddering sob, her frustration building with every roll of Richie’s tongue. Knowing that she wouldn’t be able to come that night was excruciating, but she also knew she could safe word if she wanted...and there was no way Eddie was safe wording. Even though Richie had told her she wasn’t going to come that night, Eddie felt her orgasm build, her stomach full of heat as Richie’s fingers and tongue abused her swollen clit and pussy. “Close! Close!”

Yet Richie didn’t stop. She just kept going, moving her fingers and tongue, bringing Eddie closer and closer and closer. Then she pulled away, only an inch and Eddie felt the sob build in her throat, only for it to be replaced with relief at one single word.

“Come Eds, come for me.”

Oh and did Eddie come. As soon as the permission left Richie’s lips, Eddie was coming hard, her hips rocking up as her legs shook, head spinning uncontrollably. Richie’s fingers rubbed at her clit, through her earth shattering orgasm until the sensitivity set in and Eddie whimpered. “No- too much, please too much.”

Immediately, Richie;s fingers were gone and Eddie was being uncuffed from the bed. The second her hands were free, Eddie pushed the blindfold off her eyes and grabbed Richie by the front of her jumpsuit, bringing her into a passionate kiss. “You okay there baby?”

“I hate you,” Eddie breathed heavily into Richie’s mouth, kissing her over and over again. “But- fuck me if it wasn’t one of the best orgasms I have ever had.”

“Happy birthday to me,” Richie laughed, pulling Eddie into her arms, her small frame just dissolving into Richie’s lankier one. “You okay?” She asked, wiping the sweat away from Eddie’s forehead. “Why don’t we take a bath and then spend the rest of the night eating ice cream and watching Hell’s Kitchen?”

Eddie looked up at Richie, a smile on her lips, “That sounds amazing but...but what about you?”

Richie's grin turned wicked and she licked a stripe up Eddie’s throat, “Don’t worry baby, you’re going to definitely make it up to me in the morning. Tomorrow, it’s all about me.”

There was no way Eddie could refuse that, not one bit, and she couldn’t wait.

* * * * *

@3tothe1 @anellope @annxmatron @appojoos @are-you-reddie-for-it @beepbeeprichiellc @bi-bi-richie @billdenbrough @bitchbrak @callmechee @dadbodrichie @derrylosers @disneyfan567 @eds-trashmouth @eduardoandale @feldmancorey @girasol-eddie @gloire-celeste @halfway-happy353 @hawkinsbabe @inthebreadbinwrites @itfandomprompts @its-stranger-than-you-think @jem-carstairs-is-perfection @kaspzier @lifesucksheres20bucks @loserslibrary @losers-gotta-stick-together @madidraw @mars-14 @marsisaplanetyall @moonlightrichie @nancynwheeler @no-she-wasnt-reddie @oldguybones @pink-psychic @purplepoisonedgem @queen-sock @rebecca-the-queen @reddie-for-anything @reddie-to-cryy @reddieforlove @reddiesetandgo @richietoaster @roobarrtrashmouth @rreddies @s-onora @s-s-georgie @sashadrowned @sedanleystanley @shortcake-kaspbrak @sloppybitchreddie @sparklingrainbowdragon @spirited-marvel @stellarbisexual @studpuffin @takeourpure @that-weird-girls-blog @thegoshdiddlydangdoor @thejadeazalea @thorn-harvester-ven @tinyarmedtrex @tozier-boy @tozierking @toziesque @trashmouthtozierr @twoidiotsinl0ve @violetreddie @virgo-luthie @wilding-throught-thehallways @xandertheundead @xcottoncandykatx

#reddie #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #fem reddie #writing tag

119 notes · View notes

eddieeatsass · 4 years

Text

I’ll Trade you a Myth for a Kiss

Summary: “Derry’s kissing bridge was a little slice of romance in an otherwise unromantic town. Derry Maine didn’t exactly inspire one’s heart to soar, but something about that bridge caused a fluttering in the hearts of every person that passed it. Richie didn’t believe the myth. He was well past the age where he listened to make believe stories about true love and the promise of forever. Real life didn’t hold such fates, if it did, Richie wouldn’t be a closeted gay kid painfully in love with his straight best friend.” Pairing: Reddie Rating: T

Read on AO3

Derry’s kissing bridge was a little slice of romance in an otherwise unromantic town. Derry Maine didn’t exactly inspire one’s heart to soar, but something about that bridge caused a fluttering in the hearts of every person that passed it.

It wasn’t that the bridge was particularly beautiful, in fact it was pretty ugly with its decaying wood frame, rickety beams that split and splintered any hand that touched them, and sun-faded paint job.

It was the lore attached to the bridge, passed down through the hushed whispers of Derry residents for decades, that lured people into its hold. It was said that if you kissed someone under the bridge, they would be solidified as your soulmate; a metaphorical binding of spirits between two lovers.

Richie didn’t believe the myth. He was well past the age where he listened to make believe stories about true love and the promise of forever. Real life didn’t hold such fates, if it did, Richie wouldn’t be a closeted gay kid painfully in love with his straight best friend.

So, be it the fact that there was no actual evidence to the validity of the tall tale, or the fact that that very bridge had been the location at which his dear friend Ben had almost been murdered by Henry Bowers and his goons, Richie just didn’t have that much faith in the bridge’s supposed positive energy.

Much to Richie’s dismay, however, his cynicism didn’t do much to deter the way his heart rate spiked when he found himself sitting under that very bridge in the company of said best friend.

They hadn’t planned on ending up here. Their day had started out much like any other; they’d met their friends at the quarry, soaked themselves and their undergarments in the deep jade water before laying out in the sun to dry. Music rang from Beverly’s small portable radio as they shared jokes and stories until the sun began to set.

They’d all gone their separate ways when there’d been no more daylight to suck out of the sun, the presence of fireflies lighting their ways home. Eddie’s bike had been confiscated by Sonia for god knows what number of reasons, so he relied on Richie to be his chauffer for the day.

And chauffer he did. Richie relished in the tight grip of Eddie’s arms around his torso, the way he’d mutter a ‘slow down trashmouth’ against Richie’s neck when he went too fast, or the little yip that he’d let out when they went over a speed bump, soaring weightlessly through the air for one blissful moment before crashing back down to reality.

He’d enjoyed chauffeuring right up until the moment he rode over broken glass, popping his tire and sending him and Eddie tumbling to the ground.

They’d been lucky, veering into grass right before impact, so their injuries were minor. But Eddie still insisted to treat them before they continued home, blabbering on about infections and amputations and- Richie didn’t listen to the rest.

It hadn’t taken long for Richie to recognize exactly where they were. His bike had decided to commit suicide right next to the infamous kissing bridge, which he’d taken home a thousand times and kissed at exactly zero times.

“Richie.” Eddie repeated, finally garnering the attention of Richie’s quickly waning mind. Eddie waved his small disinfectant pack in the air as if an obvious gesture of irritation.

“Right, sorry Eds!” Richie scurried over to where Eddie had sat himself down on a fallen tree trunk, a miniature pharmacy set out before them all thanks to his fanny pack.

“Let me see your legs.” Eddie instructed, already loaded with a disinfectant wipe and a look of determination on his small features. It was far too cute for Richie to handle, and it made his insides churn uncomfortably. As usual he defaulted to humor, hoping it would ease his nerves.

“That’s what your mom said last night.”

“Richie! Ugh, gross.” Eddie’s nose scrunched up in disgust and Richie’s plan backfired.

With a rosy tint to his cheeks that Richie prayed Eddie couldn’t see in the dark, he sat down beside Eddie and presented him with two freshly scraped kneecaps.

Richie let out a string of curses as Eddie began cleaning the wound, but once the sting of peroxide passed, he noticed how gentle Eddie was being.

“Batman or Mickey Mouse?”

Richie looked up from where Eddie’s hand laid gently upon his knee, meeting round chestnut eyes that reflected the moonlight. Richie’s mind went blank.

“What?” He asked dumbly.

“Bandaids, do you want Batman or Mickey Mouse?”

Richie’s heart did about three backflips before he was finally able to answer, stuttering out a weak response that was not up to par with his usual.

"You know I've always been a Mickey man, myself."

Eddie quirked his lips, not quite a smile but also not the annoyance Richie was usually met with. He watched as Eddie reached into his fanny pack and pulled out a bandaid, unwrapping it carefully before moving to apply it to Richie's left knee. It barely covered the scrape, but they both knew it was for show more than function. Eddie liked knowing he'd taken care of someone, the bandaid standing out like a gold star sticker on a quiz. He nodded to himself, satisfied, before moving to tend to Richie's other knee.

The process was much the same. It stung when Eddie applied the alcohol, Richie's heart skipped a beat when Eddie got too close, and then there was a distorted Mickey Mouse stating up at the both of them from where it sat over bloodied skin.

Richie spoke before thinking, his mouth always faster than his brain.

"What, no kiss, Dr. K?"

Eddie rolled his eyes, but if Richie wasn't mistaken, he also noted a slight rosiness rising to Eddie's cheeks.

"We're not five, Richie. I'm not gonna kiss your knee better. Also, ew."

"Who said I was talking about my knee?"

They both froze; Richie, horrified by the deception of his own thoughts, and Eddie, shocked by Richie's boldness.

"I-I-I meant my dick." Richie tried to recover, his tone none too convincing. But bless Eddie, whether truly oblivious or just pretending to be, responded by smacking Richie's chest.

It caused Richie to tumble backwards off their makeshift bench, falling into foliage that almost entirely ate him up.

“Oh my god! Richie!” Eddie’s tone shifted into concern, his body moving faster than such a little frame should be able to as he leaned over to offer Richie a hand up. Richie, widely known for acting before he thinks, took the opportunity to pull Eddie down alongside him.

The sound of breaking tree branches, rustled leaves, and tiny shrieks alerted Richie to the fact that Eddie did not land beside him as planned. In fact, a quick glance around him confirmed that Eddie was nowhere near Richie any longer.

“EDS!?” Richie’s voice was high pitched and frantic.

“Down here, asshole.”

The response, though obviously irate, still brought comfort to his beating heart.

“One second- shit- I gotta- fuck-”

Richie was stumbling over himself, squinting his eyes as he tried to see any minute flash of brown hair peeking through the dark. Richie fumbled around in his pocket, grabbing on to the lanyard that held his keys and, thankfully, a small flashlight. It wasn’t much, but it helped illuminate that area where Eddie’s voice called from.

Richie felt horrible when he realized they’d been right next to a hill, and his action had flung Eddie right down it. He spotted a small moving figure right at the bottom, underneath the looming darkness of the bridge, and set off towards it.

Getting down the hill without falling was tricky, but Richie somehow managed it. When he came upon Eddie, the smaller boy was attempting to dust the dirt off from his body. Richie decided not to note how fruitless his effort was, instead allowing Eddie to believe he had some control over the germs he’d been unceremoniously thrown into.

“Sorry about that, Eddie. You’re just so tiny, you weigh next to nothing.” Richie tried to pass off his comment as a joke, hoping it would lead them back into their usual back-and-forth. He’d never actually admit that he loved how tiny Eddie was compared to him, because that would mean admitting a whole slew of other things that he wasn’t ready to face.

“Not everyone can be Andre the giant, you ever-growing fuck. It’s not my fault my body doesn’t want to become a skyscraper.” Eddie countered.

Richie straightened his back, beginning to feign confusion as he aimed the flashlight above Eddie’s head.

“Eddie? Eddie???” Richie pretended to search for him, looking left and right but always above the line of sight where Eddie sat.

“You’re obnoxious.” Eddie stated.

“Eddie? Is that you? Where are ya boy-” Richie’s joke was cut short when Eddie swatted the flashlight out of his hand. It hit the ground with a wet splat, landing in a pile of mud just on the edge of the water.

Richie laughed heartily. He leaned down to pick it up when his gaze followed the stream of light to where it pointed right at an etching in the wooden beam that held the bridge above their heads.

Richie walked closer to it, crouching next to the engraving and tracing it with his finger. In the middle of a heart were two initials: G + H.

“How much you wanna bet that one’s Greta and Henry?”

“A thousand bucks.” Richie huffed, rolling his eyes at the thought of them carving this into the bridge after sharing a cigarette musky lip-lock.

“Good, they deserve each other. They can rot together for eternity. Thank you, magic bridge.” Eddie tapped the pillar gently, as if patting someone’s shoulder.

“Come on, you believe in this crap?” Richie stretched back up to full height.

Eddie seemed to mull the question over in his head before answering.

“I mean… what’s the harm in entertaining the idea?” Eddie’s voice had a bashful tone to it that Richie had never heard before. It made his skin prickle with warmth.

“I just never took you for the romantic type, Eds.” Richie tried to soften his voice, encouraged it to come out a little less like a tease and a little more like a confession. It seemed to have the desired effect when Richie pointed the light at Eddie and noticed a blush on his cheeks.

“Have you kissed anyone down here?” Eddie asked suddenly, the boldness shocking Richie into silence (which was rare).

Richie instinctively puffed his chest out, a bravado thick on his lips and ready to be spoken, but it deflated as quickly as it was triggered. Eddie was being vulnerable with Richie in a way that he never was, and if Richie messed this up, he might as well be damning himself to a future where Eddie didn’t trust him with moments like this. There was no greater fear than that.

“No.” Richie answered honestly, kicking a nearby rock into the water.

“Have you kissed anyone?” Eddie’s voice was barely above a whisper, almost inaudible over the sound of the crickets and the trickle of the stream.

Richie’s heart lurched in his chest so strongly it almost made him lose his balance. His eyes bugged out behind his coke bottle frames, trying to make sense of why Eddie was asking these questions. With a thick swallow, he answered.

“Yeah, only twice.” He knew he’d boasted about much more, that if the losers had been keeping tally, Richie’s supposed trysts were up in the double digits by now. But he didn’t feel like lying or keeping up some kind of charade. Not here, not alone with Eddie. “Once in 7th grade with Trisha Saunders, and then at the beginning of 8th grade with Megan DeLaurence.”

Eddie nodded sagely, looking down at his feet.

“I haven’t kissed anyone yet. I think I might be the last of the Losers who hasn’t.”

The way Eddie’s shoulders slumped made Richie want to reach forward and hold him up. His fingers twitched at the effort it took to hold himself back.

“It’s not a competition, Eddie. No one’s judging you.” Richie said earnestly, taking a step towards Eddie’s frame. Was he shivering? It had gotten kind of cold in the time they’d been standing down here. Richie hadn’t even noticed the nip of September beginning to creep in, he’d been warmed from the flush of being so close to Eddie; something he realized he’d gotten accustom to any time Eddie was around.

“Eds.” Richie sighed, beginning to unbutton the long-sleeved printed shirt he wore over his t-shirt. Once he shrugged it off, he took another step towards Eddie and draped the garment across his shoulders, making sure not to focus on how it dwarfed Eddie’s already miniscule frame.

Richie had abandoned his tiny flashlight, allowing it to dangle from a droopy hand and angle light out into the water. The darkness sheathed them from reading one another’s expressions, giving Richie the false confidence, it took for him to lean in and press his lips against Eddie’s.

The kiss wasn’t long, nor was it filled with passion. It was probably closer to the type of kiss you give your aunt at Christmas, just a chaste peck on the lips. But despite the nature of the kiss, it still left Richie buzzing from head to toe in a way that no other kiss had done before.

Sure, kissing Trisha and Megan had been fine. Richie had chalked it up to experience, telling himself that the reason he hadn’t felt anything was because he wasn’t used to it yet. But with Eddie it was a whole different world. Such a small touch had made him lightheaded, left him itching to go in for more and not stop until his lungs gave out.

Richie realized then that the silence had stretched out between them, Eddie obviously confused and, Richie realized with a pang in his heart, probably horrified.

“T-there.” Richie tripped over his words, cursing his nerves for mistaking him for Bill. He cleared his throat and tried again. “There. Now you’ve kissed someone.”

Eddie still didn’t respond, and Richie’s heartrate began to tick up into something erratic.

After a pause that probably aged Richie ten years, Eddie finally let out a laugh. A small titter that dissolved all the anxiety Richie was harboring.

“You dumbass.” Eddie giggled. “Now we’re stuck together forever!”

Richie couldn’t hold back the grin that stretched his cheeks so wide they burned. If believing that him and Eddie were now solidified as soulmates meant also believing in some invisible universal force carried on for decades by a fucking bridge, then so be it. He’d believe in every fairytale ever told if it meant being with Eddie.

Richie scratched the back of his neck, a nervous twitch he’d had since childhood. He only hoped that Eddie couldn’t see it.

“Yeah, I guess I kinda screwed the pooch on that one huh.”

“I mean, there’s worse people to be stuck with for life.” Eddie countered.

“Well I am honored I’m not the worst.”

“That honor is gonna have to go to Henry.”

“Well, we don’t have to worry about him because he’s already promised to Greta for eternity. We’re clear.”

“Good. He can have Greta as long as I can have you.”

Richie’s brain stopped functioning, all reasonable responses escaping his mind. ‘As long as I can have you’. Richie would be repeating that to himself as a lullaby from now until forever.

“You can have me.” Richie responded on a shaky exhale.

Eddie’s breathing sounded just as unsteady as it filled the space between them. With nervous hands, Richie brought the flashlight back up to illuminate Eddie’s face. He was quivering, although Richie wasn’t certain whether it was still from the cold, or from the same feeling that had caused Richie’s limbs to feel like rubber.

“We gotta get you home before you become an Edsicle.” Richie teased, breaking the tension between them and leading them back into safe territory. Eddie rolled his eyes, but traces of laughter were evident in his small smile. He shouldered Richie out of the way gently, passing him and making his way back over to the hill that he’d fallen down.

“Well, you better help me back up this hill then.” He demanded.

Richie bounded over to him with newfound glee in his heart, vowing to never take the prospect of magic bridges for granted ever again.

#reddieweek2020 #reddie week 2020 #reddie fanfic #reddie fanfiction #reddie fluff #reddie #eddie kaspbrak #richie tozier #my writing #my posts

27 notes · View notes

billhaderlovebot · 5 years

Text

beep beep - richie tozier

hhhhhhhhere we go. mentions of weed and some sex references and a Lot Of Swearing™

----

"will you come? you have to."

mike's voice was solemn and achingly familiar down the crackling phone line.

you hadn't heard said voice in years, but hearing it now was as if you were right back in derry. "they're all coming back. all of them. eddie, beverly, ben, stan, bill, r-"

"richie." you'd gasped aloud, the noise echoing from the walls of the empty bathroom and reverberating back into your ears, magnifying your guilt and making such a horrible sound that you had to suppress a shudder.

fuck.

how could you have forgotten richie?

---

you fell for his sense of humour first.

he made you laugh when your chest burned from floods of tears and all you really wanted was to snap henry bowers' fucking arms off.

he made you laugh when all was hopeless and blood that nobody else could see dripped from the walls.

It lurked around every corner, and in the farthest reaches of your mind, and the only escape you got was the clubhouse, the quarry, the losers, richie.

richie, with his insanely thick glasses and his stupid haircut and hawaiian shirts that he actually pulled off.

you faced what seemed like the end of the world, or the end of derry, at least, and yet he could always make you throw your head back and really, genuinely laugh.

he knew you needed that.

you fell for him, too, though.

hard.

so hard, in fact, that sometimes you felt you'd explode from the sheer weight of loving him.

years later, after IT, you were so in love with him that sometimes you looked at him and felt you'd never know true happiness again if he didn't look back.

richie and yourself were inseparable for years.

trash-mouth tozier. he had made a name for himself, obviously, but it never bothered you, because he made you laugh.

he was so goddamn funny.

and you were irrevocably in love with him.

richie was your first kiss at sixteen. you were the only two in the clubhouse, him sprawled on the hammock, hair sticking up every which way.

he hadn't cut it in a while and it curled almost to his chin.

you liked it.

it had been around then that he had adopted a new style, and you couldn't say you weren't weak for it.

as well as the whole unkempt hair thing that he did on purpose, his collection of smoke-smelling band shirts and dreadfully torn up, low slung jeans actually made you have to sit down sometimes and take a breather.

he kicked off his battered grey chucks and settled properly in the hammock, his eyes landing on you.

richie watched as you pulled up a crumbling chair with a makeshift seat cushion that eddie had fashioned out of a pillowcase and some cotton balls

("to prevent ass splinters, richie, you dick. do you want splinters in your ass? do you want tetanus, fuckface?").

you leaned back on the chair, lighting a cigarette between your teeth and taking a long drag, exhaling loudly as if it were your first breath of oxygen in years,which was ironic given what it actually was.

richie stopped telling his made up story about all the sex he'd definitely had this summer and how he was an actual sex god, like, really, to make some offhand dirty joke from his mental rolodex of filth. it was so long ago now that you couldn't remember exactly what it was, only that it was about you.

you did remember, however, that you'd rolled your eyes and retaliated with a comment about how he'd never get kissed, let alone sleep with someone, if he carried on being so vulgar. it had made you laugh, though.

and then trash-mouth tozier reached up, grabbed the back of your head, and pulled you down to his lips.

it was messy and uncoordinated but still somehow the best thing that had ever happened to you, the way he cupped your face in his hands and kissed you like you were the only person on earth.

"damn, didn't know you'd be that easy." richie remarked, kissing softly along your jawline.

"beep beep, asshole." you laughed, running your hand through the mass of curls on his head.

"well, be still my beating heart."

the cigarette burned, discarded and long forgotten on the ground, and you ended up underneath him on the hammock, swinging about and laughing in between kisses.

your teeth clacked unpleasantly every once and a while, and the hammock was unstable, but you wouldn't have changed a single thing about it.

you fell asleep, the both of you, the smiths playing quietly on your portable radio, and did not move until eddie and stan found you hours later, slinging a blanket over the top of you because eddie was practically livid that the two of you had been stupid enough to fall asleep in this weather. hypothermia and such.

they were both secretly stoked that you guys had finally got it together, though.

the two of you broke that hammock a good few times, to the dismay of the other losers.

and that was it.

you were together from then on.

that was, before you left derry a year later.

breaking his heart, of course, all of their hearts. they loved you.

he loved you.

you'd miss smoking in empty classrooms with beverly, stealing snacks and cigarettes and going on long walks just to chat. she'd always been good at knowing exactly what you were thinking.

you and ben recommending books to each other and poring over cold cases in the library, and going back to his house to drink and listen to new kids on the block because you were both trash for that shit.

long bike rides alone with mike, because he was one of the only people who was able to help you sort through the kabelsalat of anxieties in your head. talking about everything and nothing and whatever inbetween.

watching dumb movies with eddie at your house because eddie's mom wouldn't let you in.

(she thought you were a whore, her words, not yours, and you'd defile her delicate little eddie.

you mentioned on multiple occasions that you didn't think much of her either, and on the common occasion that richie was there, he made sure to tell eddie's mom that he was the only one you'd be defiling.

to which you snorted into eddie's mom's generic diet soda that tasted like piss and smelled like public restroom.)

you'd miss talking everything out with stan on your aunt's phone when he couldn't sleep. he always needed someone to talk to and you were more than willing to be that for him. god knows he'd helped you out of a few scrapes.

billy. stuttering bill.

the first person ever to have showed you kindness when you moved to derry. the first person to make you feel like you were wanted around. you'd miss that boy.

you'd miss kissing richie behind the bike sheds, in the vacant clubhouse, napping together in the hammock

and listening to his dumb jokes because he wanted to be a stand up comic and you'd support him wholeheartedly because he was the love of your fucking life, heaven be damned.

you'd miss your best friends.

but you lived with your grandmother, and while you were legally an adult, there was no way you could support yourself alone on arcade wages, and you had no money for tuition fees, either.

your grandmother wanted to leave, and so you left. the scar on your hand the only thing tying you to the losers, to derry, and to the boy you loved more than anything in the world.

"you come right back to visit, won't you?" richie mumbled into your hair.

he had had a growth spurt and he was gangly and thin and he never cut his hair anymore but he was beautiful. you were his and he was yours and you loved each other so damn much that it hurt. "not because i want you around or anything," he joked tearfully. "but eddie's gonna miss you like hell, and you know how he gets."

you laughed, hot tears in your eyes threatening to spill.

"you've not seen the last of me, trash-mouth tozier." you gave another watery, mirthless laugh. he saw how your smile didn't reach your eyes and held you tighter against him, watching as the moving man threw suitcases onto the bed of the truck.

you were leaving, ben was going to college, and beverly was going to stay with her aunt again.

"i love you, you know." richie muttered, peeling away from you and staring down at your hands, which were clasped in his.

"i love you too, trash-mouth. more than you know."

you swore then that you'd never forget it. forget them. derry. the oath. richie.

but that all faded.

the further you drove away in your grandmother's pitifully old, beat up chevy, the more you couldn't quite remember things the way they were.

like looking through muddy water for richie's glasses in the quarry.

god, it got to the point where you could only remember vaguely everything that happened in derry.

you knew you were missing something... but you couldn't quite remember what it was.

you remembered a town, and some friends, and a promise, but the harder you tried to clear up the memories the harder it became to think about them.

so you stopped.

it wasn't that you forgot, as such, but more like you refused to remember.

the only photo you had of richie buried amongst various notes and polaroids on your cork board was hardly acknowledged.

it was almost like your brain blocked it out.

stan had taken this particular photo at greta's halloween party that you only agreed to go to because bev was bringing pot.

rich had insisted on going as a zombie but when he turned up to the party you realised the torn "costume" wasn't much different from his regular attire, save for the dollar-store fake blood and white contacts.

in the photo, you clung to richie's back in your dumb vampire costume, whooping and hollering, as he ran down greta's steep garden slope toward the pool her parents had just had installed. you were all stoned to absolute fuck, and in the background you could just about make out eddie running after you, mildly concerned because he didn't like chlorine. you'd all ended up in the pool anyway, to eddie's chagrin.

it had been your favourite photo of richie ever since it was taken because of the look of sheer joy on his face.

the sparkling grin that crinkled his nose and lit up his eyes always evoked a similar one on your own face, because after everything you'd been through, these fleeting moments of happiness were just that. fleeting.

you needed to hold on to them.

they were all gone now.

and for more than 20 years after that, you longed for someone you couldn't put your finger on.

you couldn't remember a face, or a name, as such. only that they were very important, and they meant a great deal to you once upon a time.

you settled down, eventually, not even thinking about the scar on your hand most days, or the unnamed group you unconsciously missed.

your husband was a good man, you'd been married for four years

(a relatively low-budget registry office wedding with an ill-fitting rental dress and a shitty cake and a honeymoon to fucking canada which didn't make up for the fact you'd had to drag his father, cursing and kicking, out of the reception because he absolutely hated you), and you loved him. you did.

you just... didn't think you were in love with him. it was a marriage of convenience.

oftentimes he actually bored you.

it was nowhere near the visceral ache in your chest you felt when you did happen to look at the scar.

the yearning for a past you couldn't remember.

somewhere else.

someone.

there was also the fear.

the raw spike of fear when your eyes drifted to the line across your palm.

like you knew something had happened and you knew it would happen again.

also, he was never able to make you laugh. not really. it had always bothered you.

when mike hanlon called your cell in 2016, you honestly felt as if you'd die right there.

your chest tightened, your throat became no wider than a pinhole, and you dropped the phone into the bath you were running, watching as the call screen flickered and died under the water, mike's muffled voice calling to you.

half the words he had said to you uncovered old memories you hadn't realised you had buried.

you remembered. everything.

it was as if you'd never forgotten.

you didn't even remember forgetting.

"you have to come back. we swore an oath." mike had said before your phone slipped from between your fingers and into the tub.

the distant memory of glass and blood and a single, solemn promise came rip-roaring into your brain. stuttering bill. the oath you made when you were eleven. "its happening again."

you were only vaguely aware of what was happening again, but it was enough to make you vomit the contents of your stomach into the toilet bowl.

----

your husband was at a stag party, so he wouldn't be back for a while. you knew it wouldn't be a party, per se, because he was far too tame to be seen anywhere where there wasn't a 4 drink limit and strictly hall&oates on the jukebox.

he'd play darts and have a cider and share boring anecdotes with the guy at said jukebox.

then he'd come home, crawl into bed, not have sex with you, and sleep until eight before trudging to the office.

you scrawled a note and stuck it to the fridge with blu-tac, the boring fridge with no magnets (your husband thought magnets were tacky) against the boring grey kitchen in the boring grey house in the boring grey neighbourhood.

you had been without richie for 27 pitiful years, and your life reflected it.

boring husband, boring house, boring life, good god.

-----

pulling up in front of the chinese restaurant, heart beating violently in your throat, you willed the bile rising in your throat to stay down.

it did, thank god.

it was bill who greeted you at the door, mike standing close behind him.

bill was a writer, now.

you had read one of his books before, now you thought about it.

the name of the author had been painfully familiar, and you had thought about stuttering bill for an idle, fond moment. but the second you had turned the front cover and begun to read the book, he slipped your mind again.

you hadn't liked the ending so much, but you wouldn't tell him that.

"billy, oh my god." you gasped, and he pulled you into a tight hug. "oh my god, it's you. you... i don't know how i forgot, bill, but i did. im sorry." tears pooled at your waterline, pricking your eyes.

"we all did. its alright." bill had always been the voice of reason in the group, and such a comfort to you.

"is he-"

"in there. yeah. he hasn't changed." said bill, moving aside to let you in. barely acknowledging mike, your feet began to move before your brain knew what was up.

your chest tightened as you came up to a red painted door, you could hear voices from the inside and your hand shook on the door handle.

"go on. he's been asking about you all night." you felt mike's hand on your shoulder and you smiled gently at him, inhaling deeply and squaring your shoulders. as if what lie beyond the door was worse than anything IT could do.

when you clicked the handle to the right, you heard a silence settle over the room.

the only sound being you creaking the door open and taking the first step into the rest of your life.

faces that you didn't remember forgetting stared back at you, like you were coming home. because you were.

he was the same. older, of course. but he had his unruly hair and big glasses and that disheveled look, like he had just rolled out of bed but was still effortlessly attractive.

he was there. your richie.

and you just about vaulted the table to get to him.

you were in his arms within three seconds... and it was like you never left.

"i forgot you." his voice broke, and the sound shattered your heart. "i forgot about you."

-----

later, in the townhouse, everyone had gone to bed.

you were all reeling from the news or stanley's death, and pennywise already beginning to chip away at your sanity.

you lay staring at the ceiling, counting the cracks in the plaster and hoping for a way out.

the chance of all of you coming out of this unscathed was slim.

fuck.

had you not quit smoking some fifteen years ago, you'd have murdered a joint.

fucking stupid clown. fucking stupid blood oath. fucking stupid responsibility and fucking stupid richie who you were fucking stupidly still in love with because how could you not be? he had kept his eyes on you the whole time in the restaurant, and you pretended not to notice how he held his breath when bill asked you if you were married.

you pretended not to notice his dismay when you told bill that you were.

but you were absolutely in love with richie tozier, still, and you hadn't a clue what to do about it.

"god fucking dammit."

you groaned aloud into the empty room.

"fucking fuck. shit. can't catch a fucking break--"

there was a sound at your door.

knock knock.

knockknockknockknockknockknockknock--

"alright, jeez." you padded across the room, mumbling angrily something about how much you missed the guy who used to sell you pot and if it wasn't him you didn't want to know.

"richie?"

richie leant against your doorframe, his glasses halfway down his nose, in a talking heads shirt and boxers, looking stressed to absolute fuck.

"hey." he breathed, and you noticed he was avoiding your gaze rather pointedly, keeping his eyes on the space next to your head. "hey, uh, i just, im happy you're... you're married, and im happy that you're happy." rich shifted his weight to the other leg and began wringing his hands, as if looking for something to do. "obviously, all i want is for you to be happy, because yknow, i love you."

his eyes widened at what he had said.

"no, i mean, i don't, i mean, fuck, i do, uh, love you, of course, but im not, yknow, i mean, in love with you, like, ok, like i do, uh, i love you.... like, i'm... yeah, still... in love with you, actually. so--"

"rich?"

"im not, like hung up on you or anything, like, im, im not like some creep who couldn't, fuckin, like, move on, yknow?

im, yknow, happy you've moved on, cause yknow, so have i, like, uhh, fuckin--"

"richie."

"fuckin, yknow, i've had, yknow, many girlfriends... many... boyf-- yknow, i've moved on, is all im trying to say here, and--"

"richie! beep beep!"

that seemed to grab his attention.

"im sorry." he smiled sadly, his eyes flicking down to the ring on your left hand. the ring that seemed suddenly to weigh a tonne.

"rich. i don't love him."

"you don't-- you what?"

"there's only ever been you, rich."

there was a beat of silence, and your heart twisted and flipped in your chest as you waited for a response from the man who now actually seemed to need rebooting.

"you... huh."

"i love you." you pressed, thinking that things would be easier if you sat down and waited for things to compute.

and there was another beat, several, actually, of silence.

and then.

"oh, thank fuck."

and then his mouth had rather fallen onto yours.

tongue and teeth and lips and skin and his breath in your mouth and oh. finally caught on, did you, trash-mouth?

your legs ended up wrapped around his waist as he pressed you up against the wall, kissing you hard like he was a dead man walking and this was his last kiss.

oh, how you had missed the love of your life.

you didn't have time to dwell on it much, though, because richie was sucking a hickey into

the junction between your neck and jaw and making a beeline for the bed.

----

waking up tangled with richard tozier had to be one of the best feelings in the world, (along with sex while high and finding a song you only remember two words of) and you

couldn't believe this was your fucking life when he stirred next to you, burying his face into the crook of your neck.

"holy shit." you whispered. i mean, you though you whispered it, but apparently not, because richie was awake.

"i never stopped loving you, yknow." richie suddenly mumbled, tracing along your arm with his fingertips. "i didn't quite remember you, but i remembered i loved you so much that i felt like i'd die."

in that moment you knew that you would give your life for him if it came down to it.

because you were one and the same.

you'd been pining for each other for just short of thirty fucking years, and now you were back and it was like that time when you found the last two puzzle pieces on your grandma's vincent van gogh jigsaw. (you'd had some trouble with it because all the pieces were fucking blue squiggles)

you'd fit back together so easily and it was like you were whole again.

it was at that moment that you also realised soulmates existed, and he was yours.

"good to see that nothing's changed. especially your-"

and there he was. moment over.

"beep beep, richie."

#richie tozier x reader #richie tozier #adult richie #it chapter 2 #it spoilers #it 2019 #bill hader #it

851 notes · View notes

thegaytwentysomething · 4 years

Text

Smile - Katy Perry: Full Album Review

Track by Track:

1. Never Really Over - 9.5/10

2. Cry About It Later - 9/10

3. Teary Eyes - 9.5/10

4. Daisies - 8/10

5. Resilient - 7.5/10

6. Not the End of the World - 8.5/10

7. Smile - 6.5/10

8. Champagne Problems - 9/10

9. Tucked - 9.5/10

10. Harleys in Hawaii - 10/10

11. Only Love - 7/10

12. What Makes A Woman - 7/10

Katy Perry, the quintessential pop star of the 2010s, is no longer #1. After a disastrous Witness era marred by weak singles, poor promotion, and a lack of good PR, Katy’s gold star was left less shiny, very well-dented, and collecting some dust. The chapter of Katy’s career as the number one pop star in the world has closed. This is the scene for Smile: what to do once you’ve closed a chapter in your life. In a sonically mixed 12 tracks, Katy explores this topic head on, and though very much imperfect, she succeeds in embracing her flaws and creates a template for her years to come.

On the triumphant opening track “Never Really Over”, Katy starts a breathy vocal just a second after the initial synth note - a quick rebound from the past few years. Throughout the song, she bounces between airy syncopation, belted choruses, and rapid staccato over a glittery beat. Though not a career-defining track, the song never tries to be. Instead, Katy sounds beautifully vulnerable, carefree, and self-assured. We’re off to a good start.

After, Katy sinks into a cool, modern sound with “Cry About It Later”. This track is perhaps her most radio-ready in years, embracing the darker minimalist EDM of Ariana Grande and The Weeknd. With that said, it doesn’t sound like Katy is clawing for a hit. A guitar solo after the bridge breaks up an otherwise completely tailored-for-radio instrumental. Katy’s lyrical voice is clear with vivid idiosyncrasies about champagne, tattoos, devils, and angels. A team of songwriters hired to ensure a hit would have sanded off all of the character of the track. Luckily, Katy keeps her voice even under lots of filters on this radio-ready track with an ear worm chorus.

Katy then does a 180 back to 2012 with “Teary Eyes”, a gay club-ready EDM house banger. The trope of dancing through adversity and heartbreak is a gay tale as old as Judy Garland’s ruby reds, and Katy gives us the goods on this campy, melodramatic, and infectious gem. The chanting choir mimicking the chorus’s melody in a grooving “oh oh oh” is the cherry on top of a saccharine, yet satisfying tune. The song takes the infectiousness of Britney Spears’s “Till the World Ends” and euphoria of Kylie Minogue’s “Get Outta My Way” and fuses it with the anthemic drama of Perry’s “Rise”. Will it succeed on 2020 radio? Absolutely not. Is it a worthy addition to her discography? Absolutely.

The album shifts gears into adult contemporary with the slightly banal “Daisies”, which marches confidently towards mom pop empowerment in the spirit of Kelly Clarkson’s “Stronger” and Pink’s “Try”. Slightly more acoustic than your typical Democratic National Convention styled anthem, “Daises” comes from a place of earnestness. While it fails as a serious smash comeback single or a real classic like “Roar”, the track does just fine on the album, and doesn’t seem to be trying to prove anything in particular. Like the comfy Volvo station wagon in which this song may be played on adult contemporary radio, the song lacks sex appeal, but gets the job done.

“Daisies” almost perfectly segues into “Resilient” which sounds exactly as you’d expect. Safe, expected, and trite. On the plus side, the song does showcase some nice belts and is reminiscent of Katy’s very early pre One of the Boys lyricism. In an album context, the song succeeds quietly in letting Katheryn Hudson just be herself without pretense. There is a charm in the simplicity, and for that I won’t write the song off completely.

In a fairly jarring transition, Katy goes back to the trap-lite sound of “Dark Horse” with the over-baked “Not the End of the World”. This song isn’t bad, and in many respects, it is actually a banger. However, between the oddly-placed “Na Na Hey Hey Kiss Him Goodbye” sample and an aggressive use of auto tune, the song never seems to neatly achieve the impact for which it aims. Perhaps it is because the instrumental lacks the punch of “Dark Horse”, or perhaps it is because the triumphant theme is slightly discordant with a darker trap-pop sound, but the song never seems to really land quite as strongly as intended. It lacks focus. With that said, Katy’s Kim Petras-esque sing-talk verses are sung with a real swagger she so often lacks, and the song is anything but a bore. This track is certain to be polarizing, and on some level I applaud its chaotic approach.

After dancing through adversity and halfway creating a sense of empowerment through the first half of the album, Katy finally reclaims her “Smile” in the titular track. I recently heard the instrumental of this funk-lite track playing in the background of a Target advertisement, and frankly that is about all you need to know about the song. While I’m thrilled Katy has found joy, I’m less thrilled to hear corny lyrics like “I got a smile like Lionel Richie” on the title track of an otherwise good album. Katy truly doesn’t seem like she gives a fuck what I think on this track though, and for that I have to give some praise. It is nice when an artist isn’t seeking the public’s approval, and sometimes embracing joy can be cheesy. Maybe on a level, I want what she’s having.

The album starts anew in the second half with the very Harry Styles sounding track “Champagne Problems”. Like “Legendary Lovers” and “Roulette” before it, this song is sure to be an instant fan favorite. Every second is sonically interesting, mature, and satisfying. Like a crisp glass of bubbly, Katy seems mature, yet flirty and fun. I’m here for it. It’s great to be at a point where all you have is champagne problems, and this song sells that idea effectively. While not her best song, it is a good song, which is sometimes all you need need. Cheers!

If “Champagne Problems” was for those who love PRISM, then “Tucked” is for those who love Teenage Dream. From the strumming pop guitar to the big singalong chorus, “Tucked” leans into Katy’s strengths and embraces flirty fun in a way that she’s been trying to run away from for years. In the scope of the album and her career, the song is a blast from the past. It is a simpler Katy, and one which many have claimed to miss. At the same time, the return to form isn’t a desperate attempt at a hit. Simple pop songs like “Birthday” and “Last Friday Night” don’t make chart toppers in 2020. In that sense, this song is actually a bold choice, and a very confident one. To me, it says “I can still do that Teenage Dream stuff you always want me to do”, and it embraces it fully as one aspect of Katy Perry. Your past is still part of you, and you can go back to fun even when you’ve grown - and this song proves that. I quite love this little pop banger, and the album is much better for it.

I’ve written much in the past about my eternal love for Katy’s best song since “Dark Horse”, but let it just be said that I adore “Harleys in Hawaii”. Every second of this song is engaging, sexy, and sonically fabulous. For those who love the unique vocal and lyrical stylings of Katy Perry, this is a real treat. For those who don’t, this is probably just another so-so song. If you know what you’re listening for though, wow, what a track. It takes you to a fantasy, and immerses you in island vibes. This gem earned its place on this track list no matter what anyone says, and Katy knows it.

Then comes “Only Love” which drags on with trite, yet cute melodies and lyrics. For those who like the back half of PRISM, this song may really resonate, but for those of us who like a more sultry Perry, this track is a chore to listen to.

Closing the album is the personal “What Makes A Woman”. While not even Perry’s best album closer, the song is a cute cut, and may have done best replacing “Smile” in the middle of the album as an acoustic break between two pop halves.

All in all, this album does a good job of getting rid of the bitter taste of Witness and showcasing a broad spectrum of Katy’s distinctive artistic identity. Is it perfect? Absolutely not. Is it worthwhile? Absolutely. That seems to be the message here, both through the lyrics and through the meta messaging of the album’s direction in the context of Katy’s career. Cliche but true: you don’t have a thing to prove to anyone - just be you. Similarly, nobody can ever take away the gold star Katy earned during the first half of the 2010s. Her legacy is secure, the tragedies are behind her, and now she (and we) can enjoy the joy of the full spectrum of life without judgement or fear of failure.

Overall Grade: B+

#katy perry #smile #review

21 notes · View notes

stxn-the-mxn · 5 years

Text

Family || 2019!Richie Tozier X Daughter!Reader

IT CHAPTER 2 SPOILERS

Being in the town of Derry felt more surreal than anything. It didn’t seem real, actually being in the town your father grew up in. Richie didn’t talk about Derry, in fact, he never once mentioned his childhood. In the fifteen years you’d been alive, not once was Derry mentioned. The first time it had ever been mentioned had been the night he came home and started packing.

***

It hadn’t been that long since you’d gone to bed, 1:30 am most likely. Usually, you went to bed earlier, maybe 10 pm or 11 pm, but on nights when Richie had a show, it would be hours till you went to bed.

It was a tradition for you to watch every one of your dad’s stand up shows, and hope that some of the jokes you had written made it in. Richie made it his mission to have at least one of your own jokes in his set.

Tonight, he had included three of yours, which all went down well after his hiccup at the start. One of yours got the biggest laugh, and you could see Richie’s proud face through the screen.

You switched off the TV after the show ended, and as usual, crashed on the couch. When Richie got home, he usually carried you back to your room, but that night, he made no move to pick you up, pacing around their rather large home instead.

“Dad? What’s going on?” You wiped the sleep from your eyes, as Richie thundered around the house. It was around 2 am, a regular time for Richie to come home after a show, but usually, he tried to be quiet to let you sleep. Tonight was not one of those nights.

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m sorry, I tried to be quiet, I did. I jus-”

The empty suitcase in his hand rang some quiet alarms.

“Dad? Where are you going?”

“Home. I have to go home.”

“Take me with you.”

Richie thought it over. He couldn’t in good faith leave you home alone for as long as he would be gone. Surely you’d be fine if you did what he said. After all, he promised you all those years ago, when one of his late-night flings left a baby girl on his doorstep, that he would be the best damn father around.

“Only if you promise to not leave my sight.”

You held up your crossed fingers and crossed those fingers over your heart.

“Right well, get packing, sweetie. We leave as soon as we’re done.”

***

The drive to Derry was a combination of obnoxiously singing along to the radio and you catching up on some sleep. The sign welcoming you to Derry sent a shiver down your spine, not going unnoticed by Richie.

“You okay, sweetheart?”

“W-what? Oh! Yeah, yeah I’m good.”

He didn’t believe you but didn’t bring it up again.

The car pulled into the parking lot of the Jade of the Orient, a Chinese restaurant. Your dad seemed almost shocked by its presence. Clearly, this wasn’t in Derry when he was a kid. Richie spotted two other people off to the side and seemed to recognize them.

“Big Ben? Bev?” You trailed behind him, a few meters behind, somewhat out of sight.

“Richie?” The woman asked, not noticing you as you peered at the two adults. The taller male made direct eye contact with you, a confused expression forming. You stepped closer, not caring if they saw you at this point.

“Uh, Richie, you seem to have a fan.” ‘Big Ben’ said, gesturing behind him. Richie whipped around, only to be met with you smiling awkwardly at him.

“Oh, no, actually this is my daughter, Y/N.”

The pair had extremely shocked faces. You felt a bit more offended than you should have at that comment. The pair seemed to notice but didn’t backtrack on their comments.

“I’m Beverly, it’s lovely to meet you.” Beverly held out a hand for you to shake, which you took happily. Ben simply greeted you with a smile.

“Well, let’s go meet everyone else. I wanna see how they react to Y/N.”

The whole vibe of the restaurant felt normal until you stepped into the reserved room for what you had heard was called “The Losers Club”. Your dad, being your dad, hit the gong on his way in, causing three heads to snap towards where the four of you were standing.

The three pairs of eyes stared at Richie, Ben and Beverly, before instantly snapping to you. Their expressions were similar to Ben and Beverly’s.

“Richie, Ben, Beverly.” One of the men at the table stated, trailing off as he looked at you again.

“Right, I’m starving. Let’s eat.” Richie cheered, and everyone else just accepted that Richie was not doing what they expected. And for some reason, they felt like that was what they expected.

“Hey, Rich, would you mind explaining who that is?” Another man asked, nodding in your direction.

“Oh! Right, this is my daughter.” The three men who weren’t Ben and Bev all dropped their jaws.

“It’s lovely to meet you all, I’m Y/N.” You smiled, feeling less nervous as they smiled back. Going around the table, they all introduced themselves as Mike Hanlon, Bill Denbrough and Eddie Kaspbrak.

You immediately noticed a strong bond between all of them, even if they had only reconnected less than an hour ago. It was a similar bond that you and your father had; family.

You also noticed a different bond between Richie and Eddie. It wasn’t news to you that your father wasn’t straight. And this Eddie man, no offence to anyone, did not give off straight vibes.

It was strange, how well you felt you fit in with the group of forty-year-olds. You and Eddie found many a common interest, including joking around and teasing Richie. The more Richie remembered, the more he realised that you were basically a baby Eddie, save for the hypochondriac-ness.

It brought a smile to his face as he watched the two of you mucking about like toddlers from beside him.

Dinner continued on, and eventually, one of the waitresses brought out a bowl of fortune cookies. Everyone eagerly took one, cracking them open.

“Huh, mine just says ‘Could’. These cookies are bullshit.”

You looked at your slip of paper, and something about the words written caused that shiver to once again run down your spine.

Welcome to Derry, Y/N! Why don’t you stay forever?

Your hands were shaking, quite violently. Richie glanced over at you and immediately rushed to your side. He took the paper, reading it quickly before ripping it up. He hugged you tightly, comforting you like he would when you would get nightmares.

“You’re alright, sweetheart, you’re gonna be alright.”

***

You felt guilty, honestly. Richie had made you promise to stay in the hotel, not to set foot outside, but you didn’t listen. After finding yourself in a brand new town, so much different from your hometown, writing new material for your dad seemed bland.

Exploring the place your dad grew up in seemed way more fun. Plus, it was a small town, what could really go wrong?

In your journey to the centre of town, the only thing that went wrong was the kid who almost ran you over with his skateboard. Aside from that, you were yet to run into the other adults or anyone for that matter. The Canal Days fair was drawing in quite the crowd.

Turning the corner, you froze.

Something about the abandoned cinema in the middle of the town drew you in. It ran in Tozier blood to love the movies. Finding a hole through the newspaper, you pushed the door open. It was incredibly dusty, and you felt your throat constricting. Eddie had warned you earlier about how gross this town could be.

The hallway that led to the cinema was lit up, and the smell of popcorn was on the verge of overpowering all your senses. Something told you to run, walk, do anything in the opposite direction. But your body wasn’t listening, and you found yourself in the screening room in no time.

The screening room seemed harmless, but nothing in this town really was. You turned to leave when the sound of a projector turning on echoed through the empty room. Turning around slowly, every bone in your body trembling, you were met with the blinding white glow of the screen.

Your eyes locked with the harmless, yet frightening screen, panic settling in.

The white screen wrinkled, and two beady yellow eyes opened. A scream latched itself in your throat, unable to escape through your dust infected lungs.

“Well, well, welcome to Derry, little Miss Tozier.” The face shrunk, smaller and smaller, and became a clown. At this moment, you wished your feet would just move, but alas, you remained glued to the spot.

The clown’s glowing eyes pierced your soul and reached out a gloved hand, grabbing the screen. The screen began to tear. The scream you were holding in escaped, causing the clown to laugh. Once the screen was entirely gone, the clown made his way towards you, leaping over the seats.

Your feet, much to your dismay, remained glued to the ground. This wasn’t happening. This wasn’t real. You would pinch yourself, open your eyes, and be back at home, watching some crappy movie and bullying it to death with your dad.

It wasn’t working. No matter how hard you pinched, no matter how many times you whispered that “it wasn’t real”, you kept opening your eyes to see that fucking clown.

Your entire body was shaking, all senses except sight seemed to disappear. The clown was only two rows away. One row away. Here.

A gloved hand clamped around your neck, your already constricted throat growing tighter. The clown smiled, never breaking eye contact. Drool dripped from his mouth, as he growled lowly. His face contorted, turning into Richie.

“You’re useless. A burden. I should’ve left you on that fucking doorstep. You’ve done nothing but hold me back. I never even wanted a child. Your mother was a drunk mistake, and so are you. I might as well leave you here to die.”

Tears rolled down your cheeks. No, your dad would never… Is that really what he thought? Had he spent fifteen years blaming you in secret? No, no, he promised that he loved you. He swore on his life that you were his everything.

Maybe it was true… after all, would any gay man want to live with and raise a reflection of someone who he never wanted to be with? No. You had to push the thundering thoughts aside. No.

“N-no.” Your voice was weak, only just loud enough to hear. “Richie” tilted his head, a sad expression on his face. His skin was reverting to the pasty white of the clown.

“No? Poor Y/N doesn’t want to accept that no one truly loves or wants her. Not even her own father.”

“Y-you’re not r-r-real. You c-c-c-can’t be real.” Words struggled to form, and those that did struggled to escape. The clown dropped his Richie facade and in a terrifying turn of events, smiled at you.

His grip continued to tighten, and you could see black dots forming in your vision. The sensation of trickling blood set your mind ablaze. You didn’t know where it was coming from, but it was there, and the clown was the cause.

In your last seconds of consciousness, you heard the thundering sets of footsteps coming down the hall, but the clown had sensed them first. You felt like the world was spinning before everything faded to black, your father’s panicked, fearful face the last thing you saw.

***

“Fuck, shit, shit, fuck!” The five other losers sat, heads hanging as Richie stormed around the building. They didn’t know what to do. Who would, in this situation? Bill was the only one who was close to understanding what Richie was experiencing.

“I’m a terrible father.” His pacing stopped as his knees gave out, collapsing onto Eddie, who caught him with ease. He held Richie tightly, letting him sob into his shoulder.

In the minutes since Richie had been too late, he was already struggling to come to terms with the gap of silence where you used to stand. It wasn’t right. It was unnatural, unheard of, unorthodox.

He couldn’t speak, the wave of guilt and despair pulling him out to sea.

“Richie, I wholeheartedly promise you that you are the best damn father ever. We are all going to get Y/N back, and we will stop at nothing until we do.”

Richie wrapped his arms around Eddie, and one by one the losers joined in. Y/N Tozier was a loser now. And losers never left a loser behind.

***

The sewers were cold, wet and extremely uncomfortable. It was impossible to tell how long you’d been stuck here, but you did know that you’d walked through what felt like thousands of tunnels. You just wanted your dad back.

You couldn’t shake the tiredness that weighed you down. Closing your eyes wasn’t an option. You couldn’t let your guard down, not for a second, unless dying at the hands of a killer clown was on your bucket list.

The clown hadn’t shown his face since he took you. Part of you felt relieved, you didn’t have to fear for your life yet. But God knows what he was doing on the surface. You could only hope and pray that your father and his friends were okay.

Tears cascaded down your cheeks as thoughts of your dad filled your mind. All you wanted was to be held in his arms again. Your dad was your everything, and you were his. This was most likely the longest you’d been away from each other.

You threw a small pebble up and down, catching it over and over again. Your trajectory was off on one throw, and it bounced and rolled its way over to the wall. Building up some courage, you scampered over to where the rock was, but your mad dash back to the “safety hole” was cut short by an echo.

“Come one, we gotta squeeze through that hole. We can all make it through if we try hard enough.”

That was Mike’s voice. They had come to save you. Somehow, no matter how far below Derry you were, they found you. You ran to where Mike’s voice was coming from, tripping over the smaller spikes on the ground.

“M-M-Mike!”

Said man’s jaw dropped and he ran towards you, and you grasped onto his jacket. Having a physical being to cling onto was calming. As you stood there, clinging to Mike for dear life, more people came through the small gap, the first being Beverly. She ran to you too, her hug even tighter than Mikes. She was the only loser who knew exactly what you had just experienced.

As Bill and Ben appeared, you could barely see them from between Mike and Bev’s arms. But they were there, and they were real and they were everything you needed right now.

“Y-you found m-m-me!” Bill looked at you surprised as you stuttered over your words. Your stutter wasn’t simply a stutter of fear, it was like his. He knew the causes of a stutter very well. And looking at the causes, he could cross out genetics and prayed he could cross out a brain disorder. Which left emotional trauma. Psychogenic stuttering.

As you remained surrounded by the four losers, quiet bickering drifted into the cavern.

The four stepped aside as Eddie and Richie came through the hole. Eddie froze, his dropped jaw widening to a smile while Richie remained frozen. There you were, alive, seemingly unharmed, surrounded by all his closest friends.

“Y/N. Holy fucking shit, Y/N!” Eddie exclaimed, hugging the girl close to him. They had only known each other for a few days, but they were already extremely close.

Richie still hadn’t moved, so Y/N and Eddie took the first step, sending Richie into a crazed sprint as he ran to hold his daughter again. Tears blurred everyone’s vision as father and daughter reunited.

If Richie had an option, he would have chosen to never let his precious baby go.

“Richie. We have to perform the ritual. It's now or never.”

***

The Ritual of Chüd didn’t work. Mike hadn’t been telling the whole truth. And also, a spider-legged demon clown was chasing and tormenting the Losers Club.

Each loser had run off in different directions, Richie and Eddie both pulling you with them as your eyes lay transfixed on the evil entity. The sewer’s tunnels were long, windy and tight at some areas. They seemed never-ending.

Until you came to a sudden stop.

Standing in front of the three doors, Richie, Eddie and yourself contemplated what to do. In this sort of situation, nothing was to be trusted. Flinging open the ‘Very Scary’ door, you all found an empty closet.

“O-oh. Well, this s-s-s-seems harmless eno- oh what the f-f-fuck?” You screamed as a pair of disembodied legs ran towards you. Richie pulled you behind him as he slammed the door shut.

The next door they opened read ‘Not Scary At All’ and at this point you were highly doubting that. From behind your barrier of Eddie and Richie, you could see a small dog staring at you all. It also seemed harmless at first, so you waited for it to fuck around and scare the shit out of you.

“Aww, it’s actually kinda cute.” Eddie cooed, leaving you a tad confused. Richie seemed to agree, telling the dog to sit, which it did.

“Aw, that’s precious.”

The dog twisted into a beastly creature, which was truly inevitable, wasn’t it? Your father and Eddie screamed as if they hadn’t been expecting any of this. The door slammed shut, and you quickly found yourself running out of the cave, back to where this whole mess started.

As you stepped foot into the cavern, bright lights drew you in, and you couldn’t feel anything. You were numb to the world around you. The screams of your father were nothing but faint echoes.

You could feel yourself succumbing to the lights. You let them decide your fate. This was how it all ended.

Until the lights disappeared, and you came crashing into Richie. You blinked slowly, adjusting to the darkness once more. Richie cradled you to his chest as Eddie stood off to the side, amazed at what he had just done.

IT lunged a clawed limb at the Eddie, but he ducked in time for IT to get trapped in the rock walls. It was a chance to escape.

On your feet once more, you ran to meet all the losers. Clambering through the hole once more, you used the time to think of a plan.

“We n-n-need to bring IT d-down to size. If w-w-we can lure IT in, IT’ll h-h-h-have to shrink to f-fit through that h-h-h-hole.” You muttered, mainly to yourself, as you contemplated your options.

“That just might work,” Bill announced, bringing you out of your daze. “But I don’t think we have to lure IT out here…”

Bill had a plan.

Crawling through another entrance, you mentally cursed yourself for coming back to this hellhole. Bill stood before the clown, who loomed over you all.

“You’re just a clown.”

Physical pain flashed across IT’s face.

“A clown!”

“You’re a sloppy bitch!”

“You’re nothing!”

The clown’s spider legs weakened, collapsing slightly. The insults continued being thrown, and IT continuously grew weaker. As IT staggered backwards into the centre spikes, IT grabbed the smallest loser, pulling her towards itself.

You fought against IT’s arm, yet somehow still found yourself powerless. Even now, IT was too strong for you.

“Put me d-down. You’re just a clown. Just a motherf-f-fucking clown!”

With a final punch to the clown’s stupid red nose, IT let you go, deflating into an ugly baby-looking creature. You ran to Richie and Eddie, the pair making another protective barrier around you.

You all moved towards IT, and Beverly kneeled down beside IT. IT’s expression was pure fear.

The beautiful irony of it all.

She reached into IT, yanking out a rotten, yet beating heart. Each loser placed a hand on the heart, and IT seemed to be begging for mercy. For forgiveness.

You all squeezed the heart, crushing it and watching the life drain from the monster that had tormented Derry for millions of years.

IT had been defeated for good.

***

Driving away from Derry was therapeutic. It was a breath of fresh air. For the first time in far too long, you felt safe.

On your way out, Richie pulled over on the bridge and got out. Walking over to the wooden rails, you followed behind him, not noticing the other car pulling up too. Richie traced a pair of letters on the wood.

“R + E.” You murmured, much louder than intended. Your dad spun around, catching you just in time to make the connection. His eyes drifted behind you, to the man standing beside his car.

“It was a-a-always you and E-Eddie, huh?”

You kneeled beside him, hugging him tightly. You knew how long it took your dad to accept who he was, so seeing him recarving the faded ‘E’ into the wood, with ‘E’ standing not so far behind meant the world to you.

“Can you just go kiss h-him, for god’s s-s-sake?” You whispered into his side, making him laugh.

“I just might, so you better close your eyes.” He covered your eyes with his hands, making you laugh loudly.

“And miss s-s-seeing my dad happier than e-ever? I could never.”

His smile held so much love and appreciation for the beautiful girl he had raised that people all across the USA could feel it.

***

“Dad! These are our s-seats.”

Your dad followed behind, making sure you were reading the right part of the tickets.

“Yep, these are them.”

You sat down first, leg bouncing in anticipation. You had wanted to see this live for years and finally, you could get into the show, with adult supervision.

“It s-starts in three m-minutes!”

If it weren’t for the sheer fanciness of this building, you’d be bouncing off the walls in excitement.

Three minutes passed quickly, and the announcement was made that the show was starting. You stared at the stage, a huge smile on your face.

He walked out on stage, and the applause was thunderous, but you knew you were the loudest.

“Yknow, my husband is a bitch and I love him so much.”

Looking at Eddie’s jokingly hurt expression, you burst out laughing, harder than you ever had in your life.

***

It was around 2 am when you all paraded back home. It had been a long, carefree night, only made better by the pure joy radiating off everyone in your family. Eddie fumbled for the house keys, eventually unlocking the door, only to be knocked down by their surprisingly strong Pomeranian, Stanley.

A minute after you walked inside and kicked off your shoes, you passed out on the couch. Stanley curled up beside you, licking your face.

Eddie and Richie shared similar expressions as they gazed at the adorable sight. Not once had either of them believed their lives would come to this.

Richie Tozier never believed he’d be a world-famous comedian, married to his best friend that he’d been in love with since childhood, with the most amazing daughter anyone could ask for.

Eddie Kaspbrak never thought he’d escape his never-ending cycle of letting an emotionally abusive woman control his life, marry the man of his dreams and have a daughter.

Y/N Tozier-Kaspbrak truly believed that no other kid was as lucky as her. No other kid had a perfect, unbreakable pair of parents like she did.

No other family was as beautifully perfect as the Tozier-Kaspbrak family.

Not even close.

***

@peteporkers @unamused-fangirl

#richie tozier #richie tozier x reader #eddie x richie #richie x eddie #reddie #richie tozier x daughter!reader #richie tozier x eddie kaspbrak #it #it x reader #it 2019 #it 2019 x reader

800 notes · View notes

goodfortune-au · 3 years

Text

Good Fortune (Soulmate AU) Chapter 14: Games

In the coming weeks of March going into April, there had come the next wave, the next vital stage of his attentions and the days that Angel had started to look forward to the most. These were nothing like the voices in her head, the phantom hands stroking her skin, or the experience of finding him on her favorite TV channel. Angel had spent such time these days simply pining after him, waiting for him to worm his way back into her mind, distract her, take her away from all her worries and doubts. To tell the truth, this wasn’t much different from the days of before, all those days spent patrolling the TV for the Derry Children’s Hour and all the time she spent sleeping in the hopes of stumbling across those delicious dreams once more, but now that she had tasted the true sweetness of his presence, there was simply no turning back now. Yes, Angel had truly experienced something she’d never had the pleasure of experiencing before, that is, the love and touch of another living, breathing thing, and now she wanted more. She wanted more, and knowing that the time was ripe to do so, Pennywise was more than delighted to offer it to her. It had begun one warm April afternoon, when the Losers had come to bless Angel with their blithesome, whimsical company. A conversation about the perils and pitfalls of pre-pubescent life at school eventually dissolved into listless boredom, and then Angel had saved the day with a simple deck of cards. They took to it immediately, all sitting in a circle around the coffee table. It was Angel, followed by Bill, followed by Eds and Richie, followed by Stan. The TV is chattering quietly in the background behind them.

“Alright, host goes first, and we’ll move in clockwise.” Angel had announced. She laid down a blue card inscribed with a three.

Bill is thoughtful for a moment, rifling through his cards and finally he sets one down on top of it. Blue seven. Eds places down a yellow seven and Richie grumbles before drawing a few cards out of the deck in the middle. He finally places down a yellow five and Stan counters with the same number in green. And so the cycle continues, the silence progressively growing more and more tense, just waiting for the first shoe to finally drop. It comes back around to Stan again.

“...Sorry, Anj.” Stan says with a wryness in his voice, as though he wasn’t really sorry. He theatrically sets down a card and a death knell practically descends over her head. “Draw four.”

She gasps dramatically. “You little bastard!” She draws four cards out of the deck with a leisurely chuckle, and then places one of them into the middle with a flourish. Reverse card. “Your turn again, Stan the man. This way you can’t betray me a second time.”

“Fine by me, now I get to betray Richie.” Stan says with a devilish smirk. Skip turn.

“Oh come on!” Richie wails. “I had a good one!”

Eddie snickers and places down a green nine. “Sucks to suck, doesn’t it Trashmouth?” Bill places down a green two.

“Can it, wheezy, or I’ll sic the hounds on you next go around, I've got some good cards.”

“Oh no you won’t.” Angel says with a wag of her finger. Another reverse. The entire party flares up with a chorus of controversy and uproarious laughter. Bill snickers and puts down a second green two, then Eddie follows with a wildcard. “The color is red.”

“Yes!” Richie pipes up with a triumphant shriek. To the horror of everyone, he places down a red skip card in the middle. Stan stares at him silently with contempt.

“Nice one, idiot, now we know what color you have the most cards for.” Eddie says, his tone snide and condescending as he shuffles through his own hand.

“Yeah, and now the color is yellow.” Angel announces, placing down another wildcard.

“NO!” Richie howls. The room flares up again with laughter.

They continue in their childish game, taking one round into the next and then a third and a fourth after that. Bill was a silent and unassuming winner, taking home the gold in the first two games and Stan and Angel taking home the third and fourth. As time goes on everyone is growing increasingly bitter at one another, a cloud of competitive loathing settling over all of them as they fight to best the next player. Angel could sense the tension growing in the air, tension surely unavoidable in such a high stakes game as this, and couldn’t stop herself from becoming consumed in the heat of it as well. She’s sitting crosslegged on the couch, leaning forward in her anticipation for the next move, waiting to see what pandemonium surely awaits with the placement of each new card. After a while, though, they all fall into caustic silence. The clock ticks insistently overhead. The chatter on the TV seems to grow louder in the increasing absence of sound. Then the matter-of-fact words of a news reporter gradually intrudes in on their collective thoughts, and before they know it grim conversation is born from the quiet.

“Who knows who’s doing it?” Eds had said. “I hear about this shit constantly, but they never seem to catch anyone.” He sets down a blue four. “Your turn Bill.”

Bill puts down a green four. “Yeah, it’s... It’s ruh-really weird. T-two kids from a grade down went m-m-missing in the last month. The p-police don’t even have leads on them, and it's been weeks.” He says quietly. Angel feels her stomach start to roil with something unpleasant but she ignores it. She puts down a green six and doesn’t say anything.

“It feels like the police don’t even care.” Stan adds, placing down a card of his own. “I mean, they say they’re looking for the missing people, but my dad says that’s just a bunch of bullshit posturing.”

“Really, Rabbi Uris said that?” Angel asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“Well,” Stan says sheepishly. “Not in those exact words.”

“I don’t know, man, it just feels like things have been different lately.” Eddie says, placing down a reverse card. “Things haven’t really been the same since... You know, ever since...”

Ever since Georgie.

They all fall into discontented silence. Bill is the quietest of them all. The TV continues on behind them, unphased.

“...Hey, uh, can we get a fuckin’ change of scenery in here?” Richie breaks the silence loudly. There’s an uncharacteristic nervous edge to his voice. “I hate the news- it's, uh, it’s killing my buzz, know what I mean?”

They all immediately agree. Angel picks up the remote. “Good idea.” She says uneasily. She starts to flip through the various available channels.

“Your turn again Angel.”

“Oh. Uh...” She interrupts herself to place a card into the middle and then refocuses her attention back on the screen. There’s a baseball game on Channel 4, a hokey soap opera on Channel 10, a couple dull historical documentaries on Channels 14 and 15... Yawn. She continues. Even Channel 27 was nothing but static. She sighs and gets up, disrupting the game briefly to pluck a movie off the shelf instead. She slides her choice into the VCR slot and lets it play, comforted by the familiar sound of product-placement ads she’d heard a thousand times before. Everyone else seems instantly placated by the change of tone in the room too. The Paramount Pictures logo flashes briefly over the screen, and then the sound of a radio host announcing the beautiful weather in the city of Chicago cuts in sharply over the silence.

“Ferris Bueller?” Richie mutters absentmindedly, his eyes flickering up to the TV as he rifles through his cards. “Good choice, Anj.”

“...Ferris? Ferris? Tooooom!”

Two well-to-do parents are fussing over their apparently sickly child. “What, what’s wrong?” His father asks.

“What’s wrong ? For Christ’s sake look at him honey!”

He’s laying in bed, eyes wide as saucers, staring off into space. His father says his name and his spacey stare rolls lazily upward. He seems dazed and fatigued but it’s clearly an act, his voice child-like as he addresses them from under the covers and dramatically plays up his imagined illness. His theatrical performance is laughable and thin but somehow they miraculously buy into it anyway, even insisting he stay in bed as he makes meek attempts to sit up. “I have a test today,” He says, in intentionally weak protest. “I have to take it. I wanna go to a good college so I can have a fruitful life.” His mother adamantly refuses out of concern. “Honey, you’re not going to school like this now.” Cynical big sister arrives in the room, rightly skeptical of her brother’s supposed ailment but is nonetheless dismissed by her family anyway.

“I’m okay,” Ferris says after she’s gone. “I’ll just sleep. Maybe I’ll have an aspirin around noon.”

After not much deliberation, the parents both agree to let him stay home, telling him they’ll check on him and to call them at work should he need anything. He hams it up even more, buttering them up with weak praise, lauding them for being such loving, caring parents, and they both bid him an affectionate goodbye. They start to leave the room, and his mother tells him she loves him before starting to shut the door behind her. There’s silence. After all is well and the boy is alone in his room, he cautiously sits up in bed. He listens to the door close, and then his eyes dart to the center of the screen. He’s smug.

“They bought it.”

The game continues on as though it had never been disturbed. The unpleasant conversation of before is nothing but a distant memory now, their minds now engrossed in the intense heat of competition once more. A fifth game turns into a sixth, and the better part of an hour passes over their preoccupation. Though the kids seem to have forgotten the grim topic of the disappearances, Angel is less fortunate, and whether she likes it or not, thoughts of it all are starting to stew in her mind again. It was true, Angel had been able to dodge these ruminations lately as a result of her lovesick euphoria, but they had all been buried in a shallow grave rather than six feet under. It was hard to ignore the unease creeping up when she was reminded of everything she’d heard and experienced, and then slowly but surely those thoughts would come rising to the surface again for her lack of delight. She didn’t like thinking of it, of any of it. If she’d had her way, she would happily keep her head buried in the sand with Pennywise and never let her mind linger on any of it ever again. But no such luck unfortunately. The only thing worse than being aware of such strange and ominous dealings was the frustrating knowledge of knowing there was nothing you could do to stop them. Angel had given up a long time ago on any foolish notion of ending whatever force of evil lurked within the town, not that she ever truly had had such a notion in the first place. No, Angel was more than aware that she was fairly inconsequential to this town, even as an apparent fascination for an esoteric guardian angel, and that there was little chance at all she might have any sway over its cosmic fate. But it didn’t stop her from feeling guilty about it all. It was such a futile and helpless feeling she couldn’t control.

Angel pushes it from her mind and tries to become consumed in the game again. In the process her mind starts to wander to other places, and she wonders where Pennywise might be now. He hadn’t been around much in the last few days; though of course, when he wasn’t whispering in her ear or monopolizing her attention on the TV, he was present in other ways. He would leave her gifts and notes just as he had done before, and they were more affectionate now, more personal. He’d leave her things that specifically catered to her interests. Special inking pens he’d conjured up from god only knows where, little pinback buttons and squares of fabric perfect for patch-making, her favorite candies from childhood... She thought it so sweet that he was trying so hard to keep her interest. It was refreshing and new and she, so enamored with him, leaned into the attention wholeheartedly. Pennywise knew it to be important to keep laying on the charm, knew it was crucial to continue in his courting behavior, but he had held off on continuing to be there with her in person, at least for the time being. He wanted her to long for his touch and his presence, wanted her to want him there, holding her, keeping her within the unwavering security of his protection. The time was coming for him to make his return, however, and the reunion would be so sweet, so delightful, the beginning of a new stage in their budding relationship. He had been so patient in the weeks following Valentine’s Day, and now he simply couldn’t wait to be with her again. He would come back to her, and she would welcome him with open arms.

“Oh, you motherfucker.” Richie breathed.

Ferris Bueller’s Day Off had finally reached its third act, and now focused on a conversation between the eponymous character’s girlfriend and best friend. They walk through Chicago’s crowded downtown thoroughfares during a lively parade, discussing Ferris and his whereabouts, seeming to have lost him somewhere in the crowd along the way. They’re meandering through hundreds of people trying to find him, the chatter around them loud and boisterous as they make their way down the congested street. The kids paid little attention to the movie, focused instead on the happenings within the fascinating yet frustrating world of Uno. Angel finds herself having forgotten about Pennywise and everything else for the time being, having gotten absorbed in the game herself once more. Bill had a tally of three games won now, Stan with two, Rich with one, Eddie with four somehow, and Angel with two, but the group had now forgotten how many games they’d played, having gotten lost in it for hours. They were playing through the deck for the umpteenth time, and this one had been a real nail biter so far. So many twists and turns, flimsy alliances turned inevitable betrayals, and obscenities shouted at one another that it was truly a sight to behold. At one point Mayor Jello had sauntered into the room, gotten a good, long look at the unfolding commotion, and promptly slinked back out to attend to his own matters.

“You can’t stack draw fours!” Richie had exclaimed incredulously. “That’s against the rules!”

“Nuh uh.” Angel informs him, reclining back on the couch. “House rules. Stacked draw twos and draw fours are totally free game.”

“Yeah, Richie. Read ‘em and weep.” Eds says smugly.

“Fuck that shit!” He’s appalled. “I refuse to honor three stacked draw fours!”

Psst.

“You can’t just refuse, dipshit!”

“Like hell I can’t! I’ve got seventeen cards already, it’s not fair!”

“You’re being a sore loser, Rich.” Stan sighed.

Psst. Hey.

They continue to squabble amongst themselves. Richie is adamant and will not budge, and everyone else is needling him to simply honor it and move on.

“Okay then, if you pussies get to stack draw fours, then I get to do this.” He throws down a blue reverse card.

“Hey, you can’t do that!”

“Sure I can. If you get a pass on breaking the rules then I get a pass too.” Richie says with a shrug. “Draw twelve, asshole.”

“I’m not drawing twelve, Richie!”

Psst.

She finally hears it. Her ears perk up.

Angel.

While they’re arguing, she feels a shiver run up her spine, and she turns to face the source of the sound. The TV. The movie is still playing, Alan Ruck and Mia Sara still journeying through downtown Chicago, the crowd still chattering on in an endless chorus of white noise. A voice starts to address them from a P.A speaker; one familiar, smooth and lilting, but nothing at all like Ferris’s.

“Ladies and gentlemen, you’re such a wonderful crowd. We’d like to play a little tune for you. It’s one of my personal favorites, and I’d like to dedicate it to a very special girl who doesn’t know just how special she is. Angel, darling, look at me.”

She stares hard, her whole world dissolving into static around her. The camera shot falls on a parade float in the center of the screen, but instead of Ferris dramatically lip syncing the words to Danke Schoen on the stage, Pennywise has bafflingly taken his place on the screen somehow. She’s warm now, she can’t believe her eyes as he walks among the costumed dancers, miming the words and playfully gesturing with his hands toward the center of the screen. He was singing to her.

Danke schoen, darling, danke schoen

Thank you for all the joy and pain

Picture shows, second balcony was the place we'd meet

Second seat, go Dutch treat, you were sweet

Danke schoen, darling, danke schoen

Save those lies, darling don't explain

I recall Central Park in fall

How you tore your dress, what a mess, I confess, that’s not all

He turns to face her completely now, and the movie continues on without him uninterrupted. The children don’t seem to notice his voice, or his presence on the TV. They simply proceed in their heated contention. It's just him and her.

“Hello, sweetness. It's so nice to see your lovely face again.”

Warm phantom hands cup her hips now and she has to resist the urge to gasp. He’s firm but affectionate.

“Uh uh, precious girl. Keep it quiet, would you? Wouldn’t want them to catch on to us, hmm?”

She gulps with a nod and holds her breath as those hands start to wander up, over her clothes, toward her cotton-clad breasts.

“Yes... I’m sure you’re not ready to have that conversation, are you? Wouldn’t even know how to explain it... Oh, look at you, your face is already all red. Cute little Angel. Cute cute cute!”

His hands ghost delicately over her breasts and go to her collarbone, stroking sensually there with one feather-light finger until she’s squirming. He cups her cheek now.

“Oh, darling... How good your skin feels underneath my fingers… Did you like my song? Did you find it as lovely as I find you? Oh, hold on- I think I have another one coming up.”

You had better watch me.

Richie smacks Eddie’s cards out of his hand and the argument flares up again. Angel doesn’t even process it. She’s off in her own world now, and his touch is so titillating that she feels that tingle start to work its way from her belly all the way between her legs again, even as Twist and Shout comes on over the loudspeaker. Pennywise is lip-syncing the words to the upbeat number now, shimmying and dancing on the parade float as he pretends to sing into the microphone. All the while those hands are continuing to grope at her body, lewdly venturing over her curves while a marching band spiritedly plays along to the tune. They follow the beats of the song with brassy enthusiasm.

Well, shake it up, baby, now

Twist and shout

Come on, come on, come, come on, baby, now

Come on and work it on out

Well, work it on out

You know you look so good

You know you got me goin' now

Just like I know you would

Pennywise is bolstered by the excitement of the crowd and the sheer look on Angel’s face, the way she can’t keep her eyes off him and his on-screen antics. A small flash mob starts to form in a plaza and they mime the words too as they dance down a small flight of concrete steps. The entirety of the parade seems to have congregated around the float in a circle now; the parade-goers are all caught in their own rhythm, moving in different fashions but all in tandem at the same time as they sing along. And all the while Angel is staring, her heart pulsing restlessly inside of her, ignorant of the kids’ growing dissent amongst one another.

Well, shake it up, baby, now

Twist and shout

Come on, come on, come, come on, baby, now

Come on and work it on out

You know you twist, little girl

You know you twist so fine

Come on and twist a little closer now

And let me know that you're mine

That feeling inside of her belly is only growing more and more as she watches him. The way he struts and sashays across the stage of the float, the way he performs so electrically that it riles up the whole crowd; she can hear the bells on his suit jingling with every one of his movements, the sound ringing in her ears as she fights to maintain some semblance of normalcy and composure. And all the while his eyes keep flickering back into hers, reminding her just who he was singing to, just who he was doing this all for.

Who she belonged to.

“Angel, tell Richie he’s being fucking ridiculous!” Eddie demands, and suddenly she snaps back into focus.

“You’re the one who’s being ridiculous! Now you’re telling me you can use a fucking skip card on yourself?”

“Yeah, I figured if we’re all breaking rules, why not?”

“That just passes the draw twelve onto Bill! He doesn’t deserve that!”

“Oh, so I do deserve it?”

“Guys, for the love of god, shut up!” Angel practically roars, her assessment of the situation all suddenly caught up again.

They all fall quiet. She sighs a labored sigh and pinches the bridge of her nose. When she glances at the TV screen out of the corner of her eye, she notices the movie is back to normal. No Pennywise miming the words to Twist and Shout, no saucy side glances or teasing little gestures, just Ferris amid the cheering parade crowd. She can’t feel his hands anymore either.

“You know guys,” She says with another heaving sigh. “It's getting late- I think you should probably be heading home after this game.”

“Okay but-”

“Richie, just take the damn loss and draw twelve, I’m not gonna watch you two bicker and argue for another three hours.”

He sulks. “Fiiiiiine.” He draws his cards, angry cloud of chagrin palpable in a three foot radius around him.

The game continues. As they slowly make their way through the rest of the deck, Angel finds her thoughts wandering back to Pennywise; wondering where he had gone, if he might come back, finding that she missed him and his touch, not that it was at all surprising. The children have come to a stiff truce and are now quietly placing their cards into the center pile, leaving her to continue stewing over his whereabouts. To tell the truth, the sight of him was such a pleasant surprise that she’d gotten a little… Excited. She hadn’t seen him in days, had only kept correspondence with him through the gifts. He hadn’t even been talking to her all that much; the last time she’d heard his voice was on Tuesday as she had been drifting off to sleep, and though she hadn’t dreamt of him, she could still feel his presence keeping her warm throughout the night. But after that, nothing. If not for the gifts, she would have thought that he was abandoning her again, would have sent that familiar panicky dread roiling up in her gut at the idea of being left behind, but thankfully there was no such feeling of alienation. There was only this delicious feeling of want and desire, bubbling up inside of her as she watched him dance and perform; just for her, only for her, making her feel special. It was a feeling that only seemed to become more apparent as the days went on, this delightful little feeling that made her start to lose her grip on reality. She starts to get lost in that wonderful madness, vacantly placing cards into the pile with every turn, silently contemplating the scenario of his return and finding that a blush was starting to stain her cheeks again at the thought of him. His tall form, his striking eyes, those massive hands; towering over her, looking into her, pinning her against the wall-

“Dirty, dirty, naughty little girl.” His voice whispers directly in her ear. “You’ve got company over, you should control yourself.”

She almost gasps but she restrains herself. She can hear the smile in his voice, can almost see him wagging a finger at her.

“...Need to wait, little thing, need to be patient.” The phantom hands are back at her waist, slowly trailing down to rest at her hips again. Soft and gentle, comforting and sweet. It drives her mad.

“Reverse card. Angel, it’s your turn.”

Suddenly she’s not paying attention again. She’s whining silently, she’s screaming at him in her mind and that only seems to please him more. His voice evokes a shit-eating grin now.

“Wouldn’t… Want to rush things, would we? No, no… We should take our time, we should savor it all…”

Those hands are wandering lower, lower, ever so slightly…

“Angel?”

Her heart is thundering against her chest. She swallows hard, staring off into the space at her feet as she sits, rooted to the spot. He chuckles in her ear as he watches her squirm, clearly delighted at her embarrassment. “Orrrrrr…” He whispers. Her heart stops.

“Angel, are you okay?”

“Maybe... Just maybe... We should throw all that caution to the wind, be bold, adventurous. Maybe I should just wait until they leave. Maybe I should wait until you’re all alone, and then I’ll come... I’ll back you up against the wall, corner you with no escape like a pretty little mouse. Tell me, would you like that?” His hand trails inward, his voice raspy and sonorous in her ear, and her breath hitches in her throat when it brushes up against the tender spot between her legs.

“How about it, pretty girl?”

How about it?

“P-Pennywise…” She breathes.

"Dude, she’s zoned out.”

“Angel!”

She snaps out of it.

“What? What?” She’s pressing her hands to her hot cheeks.

“You spaced out.”

“Are you okay?”

“...What’s P-P-Pennywise?”

She shakes her head quickly. “Sorry, I…” She finally processes the last question and feels her cheeks getting hotter again underneath her fingers. “Nothing, no one.” She clears her throat and thumbs through her hand, placing a red six into the center pile. But his voice is still there, calling to her, teasing her, needling her, just trying to get her to break.

“...Hey Angel,” he breathes huskily. “Wanna hear a poem I wrote for you? It goes like this- Roses are red, violets are fine, you be the six, and I’ll be the--”

Stop. Stop. She tries her best to look normal now but she’s starting to sweat profusely. They continue in the game; there’s a palpable uneasiness settling over all of them but each and every one of them just tries to ignore it. Red nine, red four, blue four, blue skip; blue seven, green seven, wildcard yellow, draw four. Angel is trying her best to ignore him, ignore his little games and rhyming; ignore the pleasure building inside despite her greatest attempts to fight it off, ignore her embarrassment and the way she could feel them all staring at her. The day was long now and she wanted them to go so it could finally be over. She places down another card.

“Oh ho ho, I can see how flustered you are, darling! Poor girl, poor little pet… Be careful now, they’re starting to worry…”

She’s so frustrated that she can hardly breathe. Her face feels like a furnace. She can’t even look them in the face now as she continues laying cards down into the middle of the pile; she can only keep her eyes rooted shamefully at her feet as she listens to the clock tick judgmentally overhead. The minutes crawl by at a snail’s pace, but thankfully the game is nearing its end. Pennywise continues his teasing though, content to torture Angel with his words and devilish sing-song as she fights to maintain her thinly-veiled facade. Stan appears to be pulling ahead, he’s about to call Uno but then-

“Pennywise and Angel sittin’ in a tree, F-U-C-K-I-N--”

“OKAY!” She cries out suddenly. They all jump about ten feet off the ground. She immediately processes her outburst, and now she chokes, she struggles to explain herself. “It’s uh…. It’s getting late guys. I think,” She swallows. “Think you should all be getting home.”

“Jesus Christ, are you okay? Your face is on fuckin’ fire dude.”

“I’m fine!” She insists. “I’m just… Not feeling good. But I’ll be okay, I just need to sleep.”

“Angel-”

“Talk soon?”

She practically pushes them all out the door, and they leave behind a mess of Uno cards amid their protest. She reiterates that she’s fine and then they all hesitantly bid her goodbye from her stoop, further unnerved when she doesn’t even reply. She shuts the door, she takes a deep breath in through her nose and out through her mouth. All of his teasing had gotten to her more than she cared to admit; she couldn't help it, no one had ever shown her such attention before, especially not... That kind of attention, not unless they were trying to be insulting. She found it facetious, vulgar in a way that was amusing and fun, though she'd be lying if she said the time and place could not have been any more inappropriate. The worries of what the kids must think is slowly seeping into her brain and she feels her face getting red all over again. What would they think if they... If they knew? It's not as though it were anything bad, she just... Wouldn't know how to explain any of it. How he had romanced her with all of his gifts, the way they'd met... The things he was saying. Oh god. They were privy to a lot of dirty jokes, sure, (Lord knows Richie was incapable of working anything but blue) but she simply couldn't divulge such intimate details of her own romantic courtship like that, they had no business in it. She's sure they wouldn't understand anyway, that they might misconstrue his intentions and try to convince her that he was bad news or something. Children though they were, they were much more mature than most of the adults in this town, and they were not immune to being overprotective of her. She tries not to let her concerns get to her so much, not right now. Now, all she could do was simply splash cold water on her face, put all the Uno cards back where they came from, and leave this mortifying ordeal behind her. She takes another deep breath and sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose and rubbing her face tiredly. She counts to five and when she turns around she has to bite back a breathless shriek.

#pennywise #daddywise #chapter fourteen #games #it 2017 #it chapter one #pennywise x oc #pennywise x angel #good fortune

3 notes · View notes

ur-not-reddie · 5 years

Text

Take You Down

chapter one

pairing: reddie

word count: 1068

prompt: enemies to lovers high school au

Richie and Stan sit in Richie’s room, studying for an algebra test. Richie is only half paying attention as he’d rather be doing anything else in the world right now. He stares at the wall ahead of him, tapping the tip of his pencil against the textbook.

“Richie, are you even listening to me?” Stan asks in a rather annoyed tone.

“Honestly Stan The Man, I’m not.” Richie admits, slamming the book shut and throwing it aside.

“This test takes up like twenty five percent of our grade!”

“I know, and I get straight A’s.” Richie says proudly.

“Yeah, which I don’t know how.” Stan rolls his eyes.

“I’m not a stupid fuck like most people think I am,” Richie furrows his brows together as venomous echoes of other’s words swarm his mind.

“I know you’re not a stupid fuck, Richie.” Stan says honestly. “You’re my best friend, I know everything about you.” Richie’s eyebrows pull apart as a soft smile is painted across his lips. Stan smiles back before speaking again. “The Losers and I all decided to have a movie night,”

“Oh fun!” Richie says enthusiastically. “Where at?” Stan falls silent for a moment before speaking again.

“It’s at Eddie’s house,” Stan speaks softly, already knowing Richie’s feelings on the subject.

“No, I’m out then. I’m not going.” Richie crosses his arms. “If Eddie’s there then there’s no way I’m going.”

“Why do you hate him so much? What did he ever do to you?” Stan asks calmly, even though he already knows the answer.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Stan?” Richie raises his voice, anger masking his features as he stares down the curly-haired boy. “He outed me! He fucking outed me to save his own ass! Don’t you remember that?” Stan sighs and nods his head.

“I do remember that,” Stan nods his head, guilt growing in the pit of his stomach even though he’s completely innocent in this situation. “But that was a few years ago, he’s changed since then.”

“Why do you always pick his fucking side! You’re my best friend and you still always pick Eddie’s side!” Richie runs his fingers through his thick hair, already over this conversation.

“I don’t always pick his side. He’s my friend and so are you. I’m trying to be fucking Switzerland in this situation, okay?” Stan’s voice and demeanor are still serene.

“Whatever, Stanley.” Richie says, irritated. “Just get out. I can’t stand looking at you anymore.” Stan’s face twists in hurt at Richie’s words.

“Fine,” Stan says, packing up his things in a hurry. “We’ll be at Eddie’s if you decide to put your conceited ass aside for one night and man up and hang out with your friends.” Stan spits his words before leaving Richie’s room and exiting through his front door.

Richie slams his notebook on the floor, cursing loudly as he throws himself on the bed, feeling like he’s about to cry. Richie fights back his tears. He’s not weak, he can’t cry. Especially after a small argument like this. He’s not going to cry.

The next day at school, Richie meets Bill at his locker. Richie leans against it, arms crossed as he glares at Stan who’s talking to Eddie a few feet away from him.

“Y- y- you okay, Richie?” Bill stutters out. Richie presses his lips in a thin line, sighing.

“Stan and I had a stupid argument last night. He told me that everyone is going to be at Eddie’s house tonight to watch a movie and I refuse to go because of what that fucking asshole did to me!” Bill nods his head, understanding where Richie is coming from.

“Yuh- you don’t have t- t- to go to Eddie’s house tonight,” Bill says, placing his arm on Richie’s shoulder, comforting him. “I- I understand why you do- don’t want to go.”

“At least someone understands,” Richie mumbles, looking down at his feet. “Stan thinks I should just forgive him. Like it’s something easy to do when it fucking isn’t. What Eddie did was cruel and selfish and I don’t want to be fucking near that prick.”

The bell rings and Richie can see that Eddie and Stan are making their way towards his and Bill’s way and that’s when Richie decides to split. He can hardly stand looking at Eddie, nonetheless be near him. Richie grabs his things and heads off to class, trying to gather his piece of mind.

Richie hardly pays attention in class. Instead, he doodles angrily in his notebook. Richie was never one to write down his feelings, or even draw them. But in this case, he doesn’t know what to do with himself so he lets his hands guide themselves as his mind goes blank.

Richie stays blank-minded all day at school. He barely talks with the other Losers that he has classes with. He feels so alone, like no one is on his side in this situation. What Eddie did to him was unforgivable in Richie’s eyes. Yes, it may have been a few years ago, but it still hurts like it happened yesterday.

The school day slowly comes to an end and Richie walks out to his car, lighting a cigarette as he drives home. He blasts the radio, attempting to drown out his thoughts. He sings along, but it doesn’t seem to be helping. Richie finally makes it home and walks inside, finding that his house is empty yet again. Richie rolls his eyes as he sets his bag down and walks into the kitchen, grabbing a beer and cracking it open. He sits down on his couch, turning on the TV and watching it absentmindedly as he drinks his beer.

A couple hours pass by quickly and Richie is already on his third beer, starting to feel really buzzed. His thoughts wander off to where his parents are. His father is probably on another business trip and his mother is probably out hooking up with some guy that she met online. Richie feels tears threaten his eyes as he thinks about how fucked up his life is and how he wishes that everything could be different in it. Richie’s thoughts are interrupted but a knock on his door. He groans as he stands up and walks towards the door. He opens it and sees that Eddie is standing on his front porch.

“Hi,” Eddie greets softly.

#richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #reddie #reddie fic #reddie imagine #the losers club #losers club #it 2019

212 notes · View notes

sheepywritesfics · 4 years

Text

Head Over Heels In Love

(Thank you @enby-snake-sanders for helping me come up with the idea for this fic!!!!!💕💕💕💕)

Aside from Stan, Eddie’s the most organized person Richie knows. He never forgets a birthday, anniversary, or holiday! Hell, he’s even on top of the most mundane stuff imaginable, like reminding Richie the right day (Wednesdays) to take the trash out so that it can be picked up the next morning. But this year on Valentine’s Day of all things, he’s been completely radio silent all day and Richie’s not gonna lie, being ghosted like that by Eddie of all people does sting a quite a bit. But that definitely isn’t the reason he takes off early from work today, he halfheartedly tells himself while driving over to their apartment. It’s not like Eddie’s purposefully forgotten him or the holiday, he continues to reason with himself while searching for a close park near the building. There’s an absolutely plausible explanation for not receiving no texts or calls from the other man all day, like him being really busy at his own job today especially since he did get promoted recently, Richie thinks as he walks up the few flights of stairs to their apartment door.

His whole body is tense with worry as he slowly opens the door with his house key, but all that stiffness leaves his body as soon as it came when he, enters their house and starts to take notice of many different things at once. The first thing he notices is the softly playing jazz music, and then the various rose petals scattered across the floor crunching under his feet with every step he takes. “Eddie?” Richie calls quietly as he peeks into the kitchen, only to be greeted with the sight of many dirty pans and pots sitting in the sink, all of them covered in a hard black substance. There’s also a pizza box sitting on the counter covered with a couple of rose petals just like the floor is. The next thing he sees as he’s passing by the living room, that’s also devoid of one tiny spaghetti man, is one of his favorite comedy shows pulled up on the scene and currently on pause.

When Richie finally makes it to his and Eddie’s bedroom, he’s grinning from ear to ear and feeling lighter than a feather. He’s euphoria only grows stronger when he looks into the room and finds Eddie at last, bent over and intently searching through their closet for something with his back turned towards him. “Need any help getting something handsome?” Richie asks from the doorway, and swiftly Eddie jumps to his feet and swirls around to stare at him with wide eyes in response. He then makes a short strangled sounding noise in the back of his throat, before backing up into their closet and slamming both of the doors closed in front of him. Richie’s only able to wait for a beat of total silence before he begins to laugh long and loud, full belly laughs that are so powerful he has to lean over for a while and put a hand over his stomach.

In fact, after a couple of minutes, he’s still chuckling quite a bit when he walks over to their closet and presses one of his ears against one of the doors.

“Eddie.”

“No.”

“Come on babe, pretty please?”

“No. Everything’s ruined now.”

“Well maybe if you had given me some kind of warning earlier, the surprise wouldn’t have gotten spoiled now would it?” Richie continues and there’s some movement behind the closet doors before he hears Eddie sigh. Then the doors slowly begin to open back up again and Eddie shuffles out of the closet. Even though his face is fixed determinedly on the floor, Richie can still see the large pout Eddie’s currently sporting, as well as the disappointed glint in his eyes. Richie can’t help but scoop the other man up in a tight hug, heart fluttering when Eddie immediately returns the embrace and buries his face into Richie’s chest. Richie hums contently before leaning over to plant a kiss on Eddie’s forehead.

“...I didn’t mean to shut you out or anything like that. I just wanted to surprise you is all like you’re always doing for me,” Eddie mumbles into Richie’s chest with red cheeks, and Richie pulls back a bit to lovingly cup Eddie’s face in his hands before nuzzling their noses together.

“You’re so fucking cute it blows my mind sometimes, Eds! Cute, cute, cute!” He says loudly before starting to drown the other man with kisses all over his face. And throughout the whole thing, Eddie squeals and giggles under the assault while making rather weak attempts to escape Richie. He wiggles and squirms, and tries to turn his face away but fails each and every time he does. After a couple of minutes of this, Richie finally backs off after with one last sweet kiss to Eddie’s lips. “I love you so much, Eddie,” he whispers and Eddie smiles before getting up on his tiptoes to kiss Richie one more time.

“I love you too, Richie,” Eddie whispers back and then moves out of Richie’s arms completely so that he can grab one of his hands instead. “Happy Valentine's day,” he continues as he leads the other man out of their room and into the kitchen. It doesn’t take them long to get them to get some pizza and drinks, before cuddling close together on the couch in the living room and then starting up the tv.

#reddie #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #it #it stephen king #my writing

40 notes · View notes

sevenkaspbrak · 5 years

Text

the losers club x water park headcanon!!!

disclaimer: I proofread this so many times so excuse any mistakes I missed, I'm fr losing brain cells this summer. also this is pretty long

ships: reddie, stanlon (because they deserve more recognition) plus a competitive Bill and Ben fighting for Bev

let me know what you think okay enjoy:

- when all of the losers turned 18, they used the money they saved up over the years to book flights to California to spend a much needed two week vacation together. one of their vacation days were spent at a water park on a bright Sunday morning

- Eddie and Mike took turns driving the rented van, Eddie drove them that morning

- no matter how much sunscreen Ben made them put on, they failed to avoid sunburn

- Richie was blind the entire time because he couldn't wear his glasses so Eddie helped him navigate his way

- Mike and Stan seeing each other in swim shorts for the first time = intense blushing

- Beverly wore a cute red bikini that complimented her hair *cue Ben and Bill gawking*

- the losers have never been to a water park before, making this experience even more exciting

- yeah they've gone swimming at the quarry many times but this was... wow

- Bill, Ben, and Beverly raced down a three way water slide (Ben won because he's superior like that)

- Richie begged Eddie to go on all the water slides with double tube floats. Eddie didn't like the idea at first but ended up loving the adrenaline rush

- Mike and Stan did the same thing, but Stan was caught off guard when Mike's arms wrapped around his body

- the poor boy grew weak and almost lost grip of the tube handles

- Bev, Richie, and Bill played the penis game throughout the day, earning them many dirty looks from mothers

- "p-p-p-"

- "PENIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIISSS!!!!!"

- the lazy river was so relaxing for the losers, they stayed in their tubes for about five rounds (thank god it wasn't too crowded)

- Mike grabbed Richie's tube and pushed him directly under the waterfall, laughing in the process

- Eddie looked so peaceful in his tube, laying back with his eyes closed as the sun hit his skin, a small smile on his freckled face uwu

- Bev dared Stan to race her around the lazy river. "first person to make it back to them wins." she said, pointing at the other five. "deal" Stan smirked as he got a head start, Bev gasped and splashed her way through her friends to catch up

- Beverly won :)

- the wave pool had to be their favorite part. Eddie likes to call it a "clean beach"

- Richie playfully splashes Bill and receives a bigger splash back, resulting in a full on splash fight. the lifeguards had to blow their whistles at them to stop because of how intense it got

- Ben starts a game of Marco Polo and soon enough about half of the children/teenagers in the pool join in

- Stan is surprisingly a good swimmer

- the losers swam around the 5 ft area, making it a bit difficult for Bev and Eddie to stay afloat

- just imagine Eddie straight up doggy paddling in the deep end

- when Eddie got tired he swam over to Richie and latched onto his back (like a koala) to catch his breath, unable to see Richie's idiotic wide grin

- Bev did the same, clinging onto Ben even after the waves stopped

- *Bill having a jealous/sad boi moment*

- Stan attempts to comfort Bill *awkward shoulder pat*

- Richie and Eddie snuck cute underwater kisses ofc

- Bill and Ben fought over Bev, finding ways to show their affection to her. example: Bev asked for napkins and Bill and Ben glanced at each other, standing up in unison and bolting towards the napkin stand

- a girl in line for food began flirting with Mike (he felt a bit uncomfortable but remained polite)

- Stan's eyebrows furrowed with anger as he watched, crossing his arms over the table and aggressively bouncing his foot. Bev and Richie exchanged knowing glances (Eddie's gaydar went OFF)

- they ate and headed back to the wave pool to continue their horseplay (Richie and Bev rode more water slides instead) while Stan and Eddie rested on some lounge chairs close by

- Stan vented to Eddie about his crush on Mike, feeling frustrated and a bit ashamed

- "there's nothing wrong with what you're feeling. if I'm being honest, it's pretty obvious he likes you back... just tell him how you feel."

- as the water park closed, the losers dried off and changed. Mike was the first to finish and waited in the driver's seat of the van. Stan joins him in the passenger seat and starts small talk, fidgeting with his shirt and avoiding eye contact (a thing he does when he's nervous)

- Mike couldn’t help but gush over the nervous boy, his damp curls and skin were golden under the sunlight wOw the butterflies

- "so, did you get that girl's number? you know, the one you were talking to in line"

- "what? no, she's not my type"

- "oh really? then what is your type?"

- Mike lists off characteristics he looks for in his significant other and Stan realizes that he's describing HIS characteristics

- Stan was so dumbfounded that he didn't notice Mike slip his hand into his. when he snapped back into reality, he looked at their intertwined fingers and felt his heart pound (I can hear it all the way from here)

- "Stan, I like you."

- the poor boy pt. 2 because now he's a flustered mess, it took everything in him to respond

- "I... I like you too"

- Mike smiled and leaned in, planting a soft kiss on Stan’s cheek

- STAN ALMOST SCREAMED

- the losers began to approach the van and stopped at the sight. literally, they stood in place for a hot few seconds

- Eddie the wingman™ couldn't contain his excitement and cheered with the biggest smile on his face, the other four joining him

- "Stan and his man!! Finally!!"

- "shut it Trashmouth!!"

- Mike drove them back to the hotel and looked at the rear view mirror to see his slumped out friends napping on each other

- Stan stayed awake. the two sat in a comfortable silence as the radio (coincidentally) played love songs

247 notes · View notes