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[creativitymouth]

❛ i fantasise about you all the time if you were mine ❜

jjk men reacting to you doing the fantasise trend !

i saw a similar request in my inbox to do this song as a lyric prank but tbh, i’m not really a lyric prank girlie so i decided to do this instead since it may be more relevant and fun !

[creativitymouth]

THIS IS REALLY GOOD GUYS GIVE IT A READ OMG

Hypochondriac : Part 01

tbh i just love stan and eddie sm and i feel like sometimes they don’t get enough love, so i decided to put this out there.

summary: returning to Derry was terrifying enough, but when Eddie finds himself forced to deal with painful truths, he second guesses everything he thought he knew. Peggy returns to her childhood home and decides that being a sacrifice isn’t so bad, as long as the ones she loves make it out alive. And she lets herself wonder what could have been when she finds out the fate of her first love.

pairings: platonic!eddie kaspbrak x oc, stan uris x oc, richie tozier x eddie kaspbrak, (possibly?) eventual!bill denbrough x oc

warnings: mentions of bullying, not much for this part; slow burn

a/n: this is my first attempt at writing for IT, and I’m super excited about this piece. i decided to try out an oc so :’))

1985

Eddie Kaspbrak sat hunched over in his seat. He glanced over at the suitcase by his feet and fumbled with the pump inhaler in his hands. He wondered how much of the medicine and supplies he’d stashed in the second bag would be of any use. Since he got off the phone earlier that day, Eddie’s mind had been a foggy mess of returning memories and stinging nostalgia. Half of his mind could hear little more than his mother’s voice, scolding him for anything and everything. There was another part of him, though, that was stirring up an emotion he hadn’t felt in almost 30 years.

A heavy, thick feeling settled in his throat and he found himself thinking about people he’d long since forgotten. His mind glazed over misty images of long, dark hair and warm blue eyes. He thought of messy hair and big, ugly glasses, too.

Eddie twirled the inhaler over in his hands and wondered what she might have to say about him now; and the boy, too, always had something to say. That damn boy; Eddie’s heart strained at the thought of him and those horrid glasses, and he lifted his aspirator to his lips in a panic. He paused moments before it met his lips.

A voice that certainly was not his mother’s rang around his head.

Oh, Eds. You and that damn inhaler!

Burying his face into his clammy hands, Eddie screwed his eyes shut and tried to remember more about the girl with the starry eyes and the boy with those dumb glasses.

1958

Peggy stood before the dingy bathroom mirror, frantically rubbing at the food stains on her brand new blouse. Her blue eyes threatened to spill with hurt tears. She felt dumb and defeated. Frustrated, she yanked her neat French braids loose into wild brown waves. The stain only worsened under her erratic movements and she threw the paper towel to the floor in a huff. Wiping fresh tears from her freckled cheeks, she sought refuge in an empty bathroom stall at the sound of footsteps.

Peggy folded the toilet seat down into a makeshift chair and pulled her limbs to herself as she sat. The approaching intruders seemed to be in no rush, and she could only make out a pair of scuffed Mary Janes and some neat Penny Loafers in the spot she had just been.   

She had never liked school bathrooms; there were always busybody girls there gossiping about things they didn’t understand and bullies lurking around for prey to stumble in. If she had one guess, the girls fidgeting in front of the mirror were mere seconds away from spreading slander. The trembling girl jammed the heel of her palm between her teeth, crying softly. Today had not gone as planned, not at all.

A voice giggled through the silence:

“Did you hear?”

“About Peggy Turner?”

“Yeah,” a pause. “Greta planned that for weeks!”

“I heard she cried.”

“Oh, my god! What a loser!”

At least someone found it amusing.

Her stockings now had rips up the side and Peggy couldn’t seem to find a good backup story to give her mother for the absurd stain on her brand-new pink blouse. Worst of all, the confidence she spent a whole week building up was now squashed.

She’d talk to him next week.

While the girls chattered for a few minutes longer, presumably laughing at her some more, Peggy drowned their voices out. She never cared much about what others said about her, and hearing it now would do her no good. Eventually, the talking faded and the girls seemed to have left.

She inched the door open slowly, checking the bathroom for more threats. Peggy pulled the straps of her backpack closer and rushed down the fronts steps of school. A few people stared at her as she passed, but Peggy was a woman on a mission. The girl walked home as quickly as she could without working into a run. She hoped she could catch Eddie before he ran off with those friends of his.

Eddie Kaspbrak had been Peggy’s next-door-neighbor for as long as she could remember, and he had always been a good source of comfort for her. And he also just so happened to be friends with Stanley Uris.

A harsh rap rang out against the wooden front door to the Kaspbrak household. The girl bounced on the balls of her heels, hoping Eddie was home. She wanted him to comfort her after this atrocious day, and Mrs. Kaspbrak would only insult her. A moment of rustling could be heard from within the house before the door swung open.

Eddie, leaving the door cracked only an inch or two, stepped out onto the front porch. He offered his neighbor a soft smile, but grimaced at the sight of her dirtied clothing. Peggy reckoned she looked like hell, with her disheveled appearance and the rawness that came with crying still loitering in her eyes. She covered the blouse with her cardigan, frowning.

“Hey,” she said, breathless. “I just-“

She paused, sighing.

“Are you busy?”

Eddie glanced behind him, checked the watch on his wrist, and shrugged. The girl took this as a good sign, and grinned.

“Meet me on the roof in five?”

Happy for the first time since that morning, she made towards her own house.

“Pegs, wait!”

She turned over her shoulder, half-expecting him to tell her he’d changed her mind.

“I, uh, I promised Stan that I’d hang out with him today.”

Peggy’s shoulders deflated. She and Eddie hadn’t spent much time together in a while; not like he did with Bill Denbrough, Richie Tozier, or Stanley Uris. Still, she’d missed him and his dumb fanny packs.

“Okay,” she said.

Peggy dug her house key from her bag and was about to go inside when he spoke up again.

“You should come with us!”

She crossed her arms over her chest, as if he could otherwise see the rise in her heartbeat.

“I’m sure he’d be glad to see you,” he added.

“Hey, wait!”

She chased after him, discarding her bag onto the front porch swing.

“The hell was that supposed to mean!?”

[creativitymouth]

This Fallen Kingdom PT.1

A/N - I didn’t die I had writers' block. So I guess I kind of died. This is a 3 part song fanfic based off 3 different Halsey songs. It’s pretty angsty. I don’t know if anyone is still here reading my stories but thank you to everyone who is. Dedicated to the first guy who broke my heart. (Cause I’m angsty)

Summary: If I keep my eyes closed he looks just like you. 

Forever Tags: @mari-melancholy @strangertozier

Eyes Closed:

I know where to lay. I know what to say. It’s all the same.

You didn’t know when you started lying, but maybe it had begun with yourself. When you had peered into the mirror and whispered to yourself that you could get over the memories and move on with someone new. That it was never a relationship, to begin with, just 2 kids spending every waking moment together. In secret. The midnight rendezvous and early morning breakfasts had meant absolutely nothing. Time, after all, was just a concept. As lying was. And lying couldn’t hurt if no one found out the truth.

“I’d love to go out with you Michael.” You smiled widely though your eyes flickered to the boy behind him. Richard bared no expression, Michaels confession and your acceptance didn’t seem to faze him. You wished you could read minds. Michael stood from his kneeling position and enveloped you in a hug. You squeezed him back, squealing in delight.

The memory was bright and vicious in your head. As was everything that past in those months, and passed to this day.

And I know how to play. I know this game. It’s all the same.

Michael was kind, caring, and always knew what to say. He showed up to every one of your piano recitals, and your parents loved him. But, most importantly, he didn’t hide you. You were his prize, not his secret. You could leave his house in one of his shirts and he didn’t panic, thinking someone would notice that you’d spent the night together. He would hold your hand when you walked to the quarry and wrap his arms around your waist in school. You adored his early morning forehead kisses and his late-night insistence to drive you home. Michael Hanlon was the perfect boyfriend. So, why didn’t you love him? Michael always told you he loved you as if to make sure you were okay. You always responded back, but you’d never meant it. It was tearing you up inside how strongly Michael seemed to care for you, and as much as you tried you couldn’t make yourself love him back.

Now if I keep my eyes closed he looks just like you.

You were laying in Michaels' arms, your eyes closed as you tried to get comfortable. He always insisted on waiting until you fell asleep to sleep himself due to your nightmares, so you’d taken to pretending to be asleep. If you shut your eyes tight enough you could pretend the arms around you belonged to a certain four-eyed boy. You could feel his wavy hair brushing against your shoulder, the soft short breath tingling the back of your neck.

“Let’s go out.” Richie smiled, using his middle and pointer finger to slide his glasses up his face. It was 2 in the morning and the only light in the small town of Derry was coming from the crescent moon. Your eyebrows rose and pulled in, though a small smirk was playing on your face.

“Where could we possibly go at this time? Everything is closed.” You stood from your spot on his bed and walked over to him, brushing the lipstick stains from his face with your t-shirt. Your heart was thudding in your chest as you reminisced the few shared minutes you’d just had with him. His eyes flickered to yours, you watched as the mischief burned behind them.

“We could go to the Quarry.” You laughed assuming this was a joke but one glance at his face told you otherwise.

“You’re insane.” You sat yourself down on his lap missing the way he tensed up. “The water will be freezing.” He was silent for a few moments, causing you to wish you knew what went on in that head of his.

“I know ways we can get warm after.” You turned in his lap so that you were facing him. He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and you laughed though your stomach was turning.

“Fine let’s go.” You didn’t know what was truly going on between you and Richie. It could have been called a relationship, it could have been a strong friendship. All you understood was the burning in your heart and the tightness in your chest whenever he was near. You’d spend days and nights alone together, cuddling, kissing, or partaking in some rated R activities. On weekends he’d take you to the arcade when it was closed, and teach you about the different games. His arms wrapped around your waist, his hand on yours as he moved the controller around for you. A passionate kiss if you won and light teasing if you didn’t. You should have been more concerned with the way he wouldn’t touch you if people were around, or how distant he seemed when you were with the rest of the losers. But love is blind.

Love is Blind.

He’ll never stay, they never do.

When Michael had first shown interest in you, you’d use it to your advantage. Hoping that it would hurt Richie the same way he hurt you. You could taste the metallic of guilt coating your tongue when you giggled at his jokes or rode on the basket of his bike. You knew what you were doing was wrong, but you couldn’t stop yourself. You thought that Mike would leave eventually, the same way Richie did. One day showing mass interest in you and the next treating you as though you were some far away object. It would have been that easy if Michael wasn’t the kind of person he was. He’d never given up and showered you with constant affection. You couldn’t deny you felt loved, but you wished that love was coming from someone else. Someone who didn’t seem to remotely care at all, someone far away from you.

“Baby?” Michael stirred from next to you. You blinked away the unshed tears of guilt and heartbreak. “Why are you still up?” You cleared your throat, not wanting him to hear the emotions you felt overcome with.

“I slept for about 10 minutes before I woke up.” You answered you knew he knew it was a lie. Michael was kind, but he wasn’t ignorant.

“Do you want me to go make some hot chocolate, and then we can sit up and listen to the radio until you fall back to sleep.” You nodded again, and Michael smiled before he leaned over and gave you a kiss on the forehead. Your chest constricted as he rose leaving the room. You sat up in the bed hunched over with your head on your knees as tears ran down your face. Michael didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve to be used when all he did was love you. You took a deep shuddering breath as your mind played back old memories and more recent ones alike. How many times a day when Michaels was touching you did you glance at Richie to see if he cared? Or when you shared a passionate kiss, did you keep your eyes open to see if Richie had noticed. How many times did he not notice? How many times did he prove he didn’t care? It was an illusion to you how someone who once acted as though they loved you so much could now be a cold breeze.

Downstairs, Michael had his head in his hands as he leaned on the counter. He could hear the water for the hot chocolate beginning to boil, he wished it was loud enough to drown out his doubts. What was he doing wrong that you didn’t love him the way he loved you?

Now if I keep my eyes closed he feels just like you.

“Wake up loser.” Richie brushed your nose with the tip of his finger. You stirred, saying something crude under your breath. “I brought you waffles.” You peeked one eye open and looked at him, then at the space around.

“I don’t see waffles.” You closed your eye again and Richie laughed. You turned over onto your stomach so he couldn’t bother you.

“There’s whip cream.” You made a muffled sound into the pillow that Richie interpreted as strawberries. “Yes, there’s strawberries.”

“Mmmmm.” You said though you made no move to get up. Richie sighed feigning annoyance, though in truth he was enjoying the view.

“So, you’re not going to get up?” You repeated the muffled noise. “Fuck, okay then.” You thought Richie would leave you in bed and go eat by himself but instead, he shot his hand down and began to tickle your feet.

“Richie!” You squealed. Thrashing your feet around as you laughed. “Stop!”

“Are you gonna get up?”

“Yes! Yes! Okay!”

“Good.” He laughed, “I put a lot of fucking effort into your early morning breakfast.” You turned around, so you were on your back again, and looking up at Richie. For a tense moment, he just stared at you, his eyes on yours as your mind raced. It had only been 2 months since you and Richie had started seeing each other in secret but he always bore this confused expression when the mood seemed to perfect. Without any warning Rich leaned over and planted his lips onto yours, you jumped slightly not expecting the contact before relaxing into it. The kiss had felt different then the ones previously shared as if he was more present. When Richie finally pulled away you were both panting. He didn’t look at you and moved away to your room door. You stayed in the bed, staring down at your hands that had been locked around his neck. “Are you coming?”

“Yeah,” you whispered, your brain feeling rung out “Yeah I’m coming.”

But you’ve been replaced. I’m face to face with someone new.

You had been sitting on the couch of Michaels living room, watching St. Elmo’s Fire when he suddenly turned to you, a loving expression on his face. He just watched you for a minute with a small smile.

“What?”

“You’re just gorgeous, I feel really lucky to have you.” For the first time in 4 months, your heart soured. You don’t know what it was about the situation, maybe the way the sun was illuminating his face or how soft he spoke to you.

“Mike.” You whispered shaking your head trying to hold your smile. “I –“ Images of Richie once again flashed in your head, but you shook it off, Michael deserved better than that. “Thank you.” He wanted to tell you he loved you, but when he noticed that your responses didn’t really hold any meaning for yourself, he had cut it back.

“Always.”

Would've gave it all for you, cared for you.

“What are you doing here?” Richie looked up at you from where his legs swung off the edge of the Quarry jump. “We have school today.”

“Exactly, and you weren’t in Calculus or your homeroom.” You sat down beside him, crossing your legs. “Why is that?” He didn’t respond, both of you looking down at the Quarry water. It didn’t seem to be moving today as if time itself had stilled for this moment. You knew Richie always had a lot on his mind. His mom wasn’t the best, his dad had skipped out when he was 6, a lot of people only recognized him for his mouth and not the boy under.

“Have you ever thought about jumping?” You were confused by this, seeing as your group jumped into the water at least once a month.

“We jump all the time Rich.”

“Without water.”

“What?” Your heart rate spiked, your hands gripping onto the grass below you. “That would kill you.”

“I know.” He stood slowly, wiping his hands off on his pants. You weren’t as smooth as him, as you got up you fumbled over your feet. Usually, Richie would put his hand out to steady you, but he was lost in his own thoughts.

“You’re not telling me what’s going on.”

“Nothing to talk about.” He kept walking briskly, it was near impossible to catch up with him but you managed a steady pace behind him.

“You just contemplated suicide!” You yelled.

“No, I was looking for a fucking escape.” He reached into his back pocket pulling out his box of cigarettes that he’d begun carrying around when he was 14. He didn’t smoke often but when he did, it was either to look cool or to relieve his aching soul. “Not that I’ll take it.”

“Richie – “

“Go back to school.” He stopped walking, turning to you so quickly that you bumped into his chest. You moved back looking up at him. He had a small slice on his cheek that looked like it was caused by falling glass shards. His usual life barring eyes were dead and hopeless.

“No.”

“What?”

“I said no Richard.” You crossed your arms over your chest and stared at him. “I want to be there for you when you obviously need someone, I want to care about you, and remind you that you’re worth it. I want to be a good girlfriend and an even better friend. I know you’re not helpless but that doesn’t mean you don’t need someone to be there when you fall.”

“I never said – “

“You didn’t have to.” You hugged him tightly, and you could feel him tense up under you. You didn’t know what the right thing to do was, but you hoped this was it. “We’re going to get out of this shit town, and we’re going to drive far away and never look back and we’re going to take the rest of the losers with us.”

“What about your dreams?”

“I can make new ones.” You shrugged, you had never really been confident in your life plan regardless. You only made one, so adults wouldn’t pressure you. But even if you did have a set plan, you knew you would alter it for Rich, and you thought he knew that too. His body had begun to shake, and you knew he was crying. He wrapped his arms around the small of your back hugging you too him more than you already were. You didn’t complain, and you didn’t look up. You just wanted to be there for him.

So, tell me where I went wrong.

“I heard you and Michael have been going on a couple of actual dates recently,” Beverly asked you as the losers sat at the quarry. It was sort of an invasive question given that all the boys were around you and listening, besides your boyfriend who had come down with the flu and stayed home.

“Um,” You looked around the group purposefully skipping over Richie, “Yeah we have.” The group let out a collective hoot, Richie though kept that bored expression on his face.

“You know, that boy had been on a quest to make you his the moment you started hanging out with us.” Ben laughed slinging an arm around Beverly’s shoulders. They had become a couple a few weeks before you and Michael.

“That was near 2 years ago.”

“Yeah, you didn’t notice?”

“No.” You shook your head, taking the opportuning to glance at Richie who was having a side conversation with Eddie. You hadn’t noticed because your focus had been on the boy who broke your heart.

“You know,” Stan who usually avoided anything involving relationships spoke up, “You never told us why you said yes to Mike anyway.”

“He’s cute.” You shrugged knowing you didn’t have an answer because the answer might have been that he was filling a void where someone else was.

“Boring,” Beverly called out, “give us a better answer. We want the juicy details.” You took a deep breath, placing your hands behind you and leaning back.

“Okay,” For the second time you looked around the Quarry at your friends except for this time your eyes landed on Richie. He didn’t look away and neither did you. “I’ve never known what a real relationship was like,” you’d begun knowing this was a lie, “Everything I had experienced before this just led to me getting a broken heart. But Michael, well he really cares, he wakes me by telling me he loves me and takes me to the movies at night,” Richie’s face was beginning to turn red, “He holds my hand with people around, and he gives me forehead kisses. Michael is the exact opposite of what my last relationship looked like.” The group looked at you for a second with confusion realizing that you never said you were with Michael for Michael, only because he was different. “He makes me happy, and I love him.” You added quickly, and they relaxed.

“Do we know your prick of an ex?”

“No,” You continued looking at Richie still, “but I don’t think he ever really loved me regardless. He never said it, and the one time I did he left me.”

“They sound like a dick.”

“They are.” You could see the itch in Richie’s face to run away from the situation, but if he did that he would have only exposed himself. So instead, he hit Eddie on the arm and continued whatever conversation he had been having with prior. But you could see how he kept his fist clenched tightly.

Would’ve traded it all for you, there for you.

“Mike.” You knocked on his room door, having been welcomed in downstairs by his Grandpa who seemed to take a liking to you. That only added to your guilt since you knew once everything was exposed in the light Michael wouldn’t be the only one hurt. “It’s (Y/N),” You cleared your throat awkwardly not knowing if it was the right thing to do, “I brought you chicken rice soup.” You heard a cough, and a shuffle of feet before the door swung open.

“Babe,” He coughed some more. “What are you doing here, I don’t want to get you sick.”

“I have my flu shot.” You shrugged. “Go lay down.” He peered at you for a few more minutes, as if turning you away was a practical choice but he knew you would never relent. With a sigh, he followed your orders and went to lay down. You followed him inside, stopping at his table top to set up the soup and your mother’s tea mug. It was magnificent at keeping drinks hot. “We have tea, soup, and the 3 days’ worth of homework you missed.”

“You definitely didn’t need to bring that last one.”

“If you want to graduate I did.” You laughed as Mike groaned before laying his head back. You carried the tea and soup over to his bed, sitting on the edge so that you could help him if he needed it. “Here baby, I brought you tea, my mom made it and it’s supposed to do wonders for the flu.” Michael didn’t respond as he stares at you with wide eyes, panic grew in your chest. “Mike?” He blinked but still didn’t say anything. “Mike are you okay?”

“You called me baby.” Now, you were the one starring and blinking. “You’ve just never done that before, usually I’m the one with the pet names.”

“Oh.” You whispered. “Sorry?” Michael tried to laugh but it turned into a hacking cough. You cringed hoping he would feel better soon.

“Don’t apologize, it just caught me off guard.”

“I would kiss you, but I don’t want to risk infection.” You smiled feeling less miserable about the revelation then you thought you would.

So, tell me how to move on.

When the teacher had called the pairs for the Calculus project and said your name with Richie’s in tow you’d felt the bile rise in your throat. It was a hot and gross feeling that overcame you as he slowly gathered his books and came to sit next to you. You’d tapped your foot the rest of the class period, missing all the instruction she gave on the project. The proximity you had to him was to close, you could smell his cologne and hear his short breathing. It brought back memories that you’d thought toxic, and you wanted nothing but space from him. It was hard enough avoiding him when the losers were around, but Richie took care of that himself. You could see him peering at you out of the corner of his eyes and the panicking feeling grew. You’d done so much to try and recover from the hurt he’d caused you and this one Calc project was going to be the destruction of it all. When the bell rung dismissing the class you practically ran from the room. If you could have gone any faster without causing a disruption you would have. Richie was an asshole, a prick, and a heartbreaker but he wasn’t stupid. So, when you heard his footsteps behind you, you weren’t surprised.

“How are we going to do this project?” You ignored him continuing to walk towards the lunch room. “We could do it at my place.” You grunted disapprovingly. “Or at yours.” You repeated the noise.  “(Y/N), don’t be such a bitch we need this grade.” That made you stop walking, you turned to Richie with your eyes squinted so far, they were almost shut.

“Did you just tell me not to be a bitch?”

“I know you heard me, fuck.” Richie’s face was red with what you interpreted as anger.

“Go away.”

“Not until we discuss the project.”

“I rather take an F than work with you,”

“Why?” The question threw you into a tailspin. The reasons seemed obvious. After months of hiding and accepting less than you deserved, he’d left you on the curb of your house soaking in the rain.

“Why?!” You screamed back, hurt that he even had to ask.

“Yes, why!”

“Because you broke my fucking heart!” You shoved him once in the chest, hard enough that he stumbled. “I gave you 9 months of my life, 9 months of secrecy, 9 months of fucking love for you to throw it all back in my face like it meant nothing!”

“You’re yelling.” He said through gritted teeth.

“I don’t care!” You rose your arms up in the air, causing more people to look in your direction. “I’m not hiding shit anymore!”

“(Y/N).” He whispered  

“I loved you!” This rose eyebrows in the hallway, everyone knew you had been in a relationship with Michael for a while now. “I loved you and you used me!” Another shove, Richie didn’t fight it. “What did all of it mean to you? All of those early morning breakfast’s and star gazing nights.” He didn’t respond. “What did I do wrong?”

“If you keep this up, your precious boyfriend is going to hear.” Richie looked angry, you didn’t know if it was because of your insistent screaming or the mention of Michael. By the way, he had been acting you settled on the first. “We don’t want him to know the real reason you’re dating him.” A warmth rose in your chest, a bitter feeling replacing and overcoming the sadness you’d felt for so long.

“I hate you.” Your arms fell limp at your sides as you stared into Richie’s eyes. “I hate you so much, and I wish I could forget you ever existed.” You turned away leaving him behind, the way he had done to you. Your heart thumbed through your chest but each one hurt more than the last.

You had given him everything and all you got in return was a shattered heart.

My Lover.

Richie’s love was of the forbidden variety, not that there was any force driving you two apart. Unless you considered Richie himself to be that force. He was caring and loving when the doors were shut, but the minute someone shined a spotlight in your direction it was as if he was Dr. Jekyll, Mr. Hyde. When Richie first proposed the idea that you guys see each other in secret it had seemed like the smartest most romantic thing ever but as time went on you slowly started to feel like a toy in his game. If only that had been enough to persuade you not to love him. As many dark sides as there were to Richie, there was also a pool of light. How many times had he woken you up to breakfast, or spontaneously showed up at your house at 12 in the morning with flowers in his hands? Still, you reminisced about the way he would twirl you in a circle to dance to music on his record player as you laughed loudly. Sometimes you still wondered if that should have been enough. Then you remember, it never was. It never will be.

Michael’s love was every girl's dream. He baked you cookies, and spoon fed you soup when you were sick. Your parents absolutely adored him and would invite him over for dinner at least once a week. He wanted to take your relationship slow and cherish every inch of you. You felt like a princess when you were with him. Your crown may have been invisible, but Michael somehow saw it. When your nightmares would get bad he would hold you until you fell asleep again. You knew Michael should have been the one for you, and that you should have valued it more. How many times a day did you tell yourself that, try to convince yourself that you should break up with Michael and give him the opportunity to date someone who appreciated him. How many times did you rationalize your reason for not doing it? Michael was one of the first people you felt ever truly loved you. But you kept kicking that love to the curb.

My Liar.

“We need to talk.” It was pouring out, and Richie had been avoiding you that day. It wasn’t unusual for him as he never wanted anyone to see you guys together. He had chopped it up to people being nosey, but you knew it was deeper than that. Your stomach turned as you watch Richie, you slightly hopped it was the conversation you waited 9 months for.

“Sure, come in.” Richie shook his head, not meeting your eyes. “Or don’t.” You said quietly the nerves in your stomach growling. You took a step forward and closed your house door behind you. “I’m actually really happy you’re here I have something I wanted to tell you.” You tried to lighten the mood but the lilt in your voice spoke on the tension.

“Oh?” He still doesn’t look at you, “Um,” He kicks his foot through the grass of your yard. “Do you wanna go first?” He was stalling, and you knew that. For some reason it gave you a push, maybe he was acting so nervous because he wanted to confess the same things you did.

But maybes were always a dangerous ground to step on.

“Yeah.” You took a deep breath thinking back to all the moments and memories that had shaped your life over the last 9 months, “Richie I love you.” He didn’t respond but his body tensed up. “You’ve shown me the best and greatest time of my life these last couple of months, I’ve truly discovered who I was with you around and -

“I can’t see you anymore.” He cut you off and your heart dropped into your stomach. He never once looked up, but the way he spoke didn’t convey shame. He knew what he was doing but he didn’t seem to care. Richie turned around and began to walk away.

“Richie?” You yelled at him. “Rich!” There was no explanation, no look of regret, he didn’t even seem to have emotion. “Richie, what did I do!” You walked out from the comfort of your porch into the heavy rain. He didn’t turn around. You wondered what it would feel like to see him again and not be able to touch him.

They don’t realize I’m thinking about you.

Michael had you pressed against your room door, his lips leaving a trail down your neck. You were trying to focus on the present, on the feel of his lips against your skin but your mind kept wandering to the times you had been in this same situation with Richie.

You were giggling excessively as Richie kissed your neck, he had your arms pinned above your head and your back pinned against the wall. It was his attempt to be sexy and daring but all he was doing was tickling you.

“You laughing is really bad for my fucking ego babe.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, it tickles.” You giggled some more. “I’ll try to be more serious I promise.” Richie rolled his eyes, but you knew he wasn’t upset, he had told you countless times how much he loved your laugh. He continued kissing down your neck, and you managed a few seconds of silence before you couldn’t help but laugh again. “You’re tickling me!”

“How!?” He pulled away letting your arms go.

“I can feel your breathing on my collar bone and it tickles!” You laughed more skimming your skin lightly where you could still feel the tiny goosebumps.

“Okay, you know what?” He looked down at you with a mixture of agitation and amusement.

“What?” Suddenly, Rich’s arms were around your waist as he lifted you off the floor and towards the bed. “Where are we going?”

“I’m going to try and fix my wounded ego.” He tossed you onto the bed and you chuckled as you flopped.

“Terrible start.”

“Shut it.” He was leaning over your body, so close that you could once again feel his breathing on your skin. It still tickled but the determination in his eyes was enough to get you not to laugh. His eyes were locked on yours so intensely that you were already breathing heavily. The static around the both of you was so charged it could have been tangible. “Sometimes,” His eyes fell on your lips, “I think I like you too much.” You didn’t respond as you watched him watching you. “Like there are too many feelings here that I didn’t bargain for.” That caught your attention, and you paid more attention to his words. “But I also think that I like it, I like you. A lot.” He smirked softly, before leaning down and kissing you. Your stomach was in knots as your palms grew clammy. He was talking to himself more than you, and you recognized that. Almost as much as you recognized how passionate he could be.

“Richie.” You breathed, except it was no longer inside of the memory.

“What did you say?” Michael pulled away looking confused. Your heart dropped, this wasn’t the way you wanted him to find out.

“I – “You took a deep breath, moving your hand from his chest to your own. Trying to hold your thudding heart inside. “I said quit it.” You smiled though you knew it came from pained. My parents will be home soon baby.”

“Oh okay.” He smiled at you and you couldn’t tell if he knew you were lying, or what you had really said. When were you going to move on?

It’s nothing new. It’s nothing new.

“I remember the day you stood like this, on my porch.” You were copying the memory, standing on Richie’s porch, as he thought you were going to work on the project together. “You walked away from me and I just kept calling after you, like a damn fucking idiot.” You slowly shook your head as a sad smile found its way onto your lips. “I don’t know what was worse: you saying you couldn’t do this anymore, or me living with the silly hope you might just come back.” Unlike Richie, you looked up and into his eyes. He had been too cowardly to break your heart to your face, but you were stronger than he was. You handed him a slip of white paper, with a name and number scrawled on it. “I talked to the teacher and got our partners switched. You’ll be working with Amarys now.” He took the slip of paper from your hand and you turned around to leave, to start a new chapter in your life. Tell Michael the truth, have him leave you for better, get out of Derry and go to College, and finally learn how to love again.

“(Y/N)!” Richie called you causing you to chuckle at the irony. “(Y/N), wait!” If only it had been raining, the moment would have looked the same. The only difference was the sound of Richie’s running feet behind you. You kept walking not willing to give in to him but then his hands were on your shoulders and he was turning you to face him. He looked down at you for less than a second before his lips were on yours. It was the kind of kiss that really shouldn’t have been happening, it was a mistake, but you just couldn’t find the ability to pull away. His lips were hot against yours as he took steps to close the space between the both of you. Somehow his hands had found their way to your waist, and you allowed it, if only for a few more moments. You knew reality had to hit, and that this was going to be the last time you let Richie get away with this. Yet, how many times in the last months had you ached for this moment, wanted recognition from Richie that he still cared about you. Your hands found their way to his chest and as much as you wanted to pull him closer you shoved him away. He moved back looking at you with confusion, you shook your head before turning and walking away again. The kiss for you had only meant goodbye. “(Y/N)?” Richie’s voice sounded unusual in your ears. You kept your eyes in front of you as you continued to walk this time. “I love you!” A spike shot through your heart, but it was too little too late. “I love you (Y/N)!”

Too little too late.

[creativitymouth]

This is my son, expect a fanfic soon

can we all just appreciate chosen for a minute?

[creativitymouth]

yay wtf I’m happy now

Please reblog this if you’re a stranger things or an IT blog I need to follow more blogs x

[creativitymouth]

No Promises.

A/N- Double Upload! Because I didn’t upload for 3 days, yikes.

Request: Ooh okay so like when you’re done w the (probably ever-growing list of) requests you already have, can I suggest a lil Richie x Reader based off the song “No Promises” - Cheat Codes??? For some reason I get hella Richie vibes from that song! And if you do decide to write it, can you add me to the tag list ❤️ but I love your writing though omg and I hope you have a good day! @ritchieisred

Trigger Warnings: None, unless angst but no I don’t think so.

Forever Tags: @mari-melancholy @hello-mynameisfinn​ 

                Cut me up like a knife and I feel it, deep in my bones

Richie Tozier was his own person, from the washed-out jeans to his Hawaiian t-shirts and Trashmouth. He never let anyone define who he was or who he should be. His mother, the devout Catholic she was, had always tried to cap Richie’s wild personality but it had turned out in the exact opposite of her favor. The more she tried to control him the wilder her became. Somewhere deep inside he wished he could be the son she so craved, but he was no more than himself.

               Kicking it high but I love even harder. You wanna know?

This is what made it so easy for you to like Richard. While you lived in the shell that you’d created around yourself Richie lived outside it. You weren’t necessarily shy, but you were afraid to experience life to the fullest. Your mother was the Mayor of Derry and your father was her right hand. They’d always had a silver spoon in their mouth and you were expected to be the same. You followed rules, you kept your mouth closed unless otherwise spoken too, you didn’t get into trouble. But you also felt as though you weren’t living. Where was the experience? The joy? Was the point of life to be bland and flavorless? You wanted to taste adventure.

    I just want to dive in the water with you. Baby we can’t see the bottom.

“Can I come?” You were pushing your comfort zone, leaving your ordinary group of do-gooders behind for the losers club. The group turned to you with raised eyebrows as you stood behind them at the bike rack. “You know, to the Quarry?” You weren’t dressed for whatever they were going to do, wearing a pleated skirt and a button-down peter pan collared shirt. All of the Losers were dressed down, even Stanley. “I overheard you during lunch,” meaning eavesdropping, “and figured I could use the excitement.” The group’s Trashmouth was the first to step up, cracking a smile. He slung his arm around you and your heart inappropriately sky rocketed.

“You’re the mayors kid, right?” You nodded in response to Richie’s question.

“You sure you want to come? I heard your mom keeps you on a tight leash.” If you weren’t so afraid of making a decent first impression you would have rolled your eyes. It was true that your mother was anti-fun, but that didn’t mean you always did what she said. Scratch that, starting now you weren’t always going to do what she said. You shrugged at Stan who was the one to bring up your mother. Each of the Losers names were ingrained into your brain. Stalking Richie had taught you lots.

“I m-m-mean, if y-y-you’re sure, c-c-come on.” Bill Denbrough otherwise known as Stuttering Bill. He flashed you a kind quick smile before hopping on his bike. The other losers quickly introduced themselves before hopping on their bikes and pedaling after their leader.

“You’re the 2nd piece of fine ass to ever hang out with us.” Richie commented.

“Objectifying woman is never a good color on you Tozier.” Beverly remarked, and you laughed easing the tension of being the new comer slightly. You were tired of living under false pretenses. You wanted to experience. The Losers Club were quick to warm up to you. They’d noticed how tightly wound your free spirit was and they were a helping hand in releasing it. Your mother quickly caught on to your endeavors and was not in the least bit happy for you. All she cared about was how you hanging out with a group of miscreants would affect her reputation.

“After all,” She’d said, “The town whore, a fat kid, a Jew, the dead kids brother, a black orphan, a hypochondriac, and a Trashmouth couldn’t possibly make good company.” You stormed up to your room then and sat on your bed trying to figure out where you fit in the broken group. You settled on The Mayors Fuck-Up.

   It’s so easy to fall for each other. I’m just hoping we catch one another.

If your mother was mad when you had begun to hangout with the Losers, she would be

positively furious when she found out you started dating one. About 4 weeks after becoming an official Losers Club Member, Richard Trashmouth Tozier asked you out. You’d calmly said yes and shared an innocent peck since your friends had been watching but when you went home you practically busted with energy. The boy you’d crushed on for months, was now in a relationship with you. It was easy to fall for him, since he was everything you’d ever wanted to be in life. But you couldn’t figure out what had caused him to fall for you. You were the mayors kid, raised under a house with no-love and little room for error.

“Why do you like me?” Richie sighed, you had interrupted his cherish midday make out session for questions he found ridiculous. It took him forever to convince you to skip class to do this and now you were going to throw away the opportunity. “Don’t give me that look Tozier, I really want to know.”

“And I really want to keep kissing you.” He leaned back down towards your lips and though the offer was tempting you shoved him away gently. He groaned in frustration. “Seriously, we’re doing this?”

“Yes.” You smiled up at him, knowing he was just upset because his teenage boy hormones were raging.

“After 3 months and I’m still being questioned.” He took in a deep breath running his hands through his tousled curly hair before looking back down at you. His height at times could be intimidating, but as the moments you spent with him grew so did your level of comfort. “(Y/N), I like the way you snort when you laugh too hard, and I like the way you panic over the smallest of things,” he chuckled as he remembered the look you gave him when he first asked you to skip class with him, “I like the way you trip over your feet when your nervous, and the way you bite your lower lip between your teeth.” You inhaled a deep breath as he stared down at you, your heart fluttering in your chest. “I like how different we seem to be on the outside but how alike we are on the inside.” You didn’t know when Richie had become so soft, he was the kind of boyfriend to let you get wet in the rain because it was your fault for not bringing a jacket. “I like the way your eyes flicker around when you see something you really like.” His voice was low as if he was admitting this stuff to himself for the first time as well.  “I like how because you’re so shit at math, you rake your hands through your hair at least 3 times before every problem.” His eyes we so intense on yours. “I like you because you know who you are, you know you’re struggles, and you still try to overcome them on your own. You’re the mayors kid sure but more importantly you’re you, and” Richie stopped, looking conflicted about his next words.

“And?” you asked.

“I think love you.”  Richie made a promise to himself, that he would always love you for who you were.

          Just be careful. Love ain’t simple. Promise me no promises.

As expected when your mother found out that you were dating Richie she blew a gasket. Her head seemed to swell in size as her face turned into a deep shade of red.

“I forbid it!” She screamed at you. “I forbid it! I forbid it!” Your eyebrows rose at your choice of wording. Richie had scrambled so far away into the corner of your room, you’d figured he was trying to become apart of the wall plaster. Your mom had caught you two in a compromising position, and you’d thought she’d be more upset about the fact that you were about to give your virginity away to your first serious boyfriend. But she wasn’t able to see past her 2nd term race coming up, and didn’t even notice the condom in Richie’s hand.

“You what?” you asked calmly as you put on your shirt.

“I said I forbid it!”

“Mom, this isn’t the 17th century. You can’t forbid me from anything.” You didn’t know where this sudden bravado was coming from, but you were going to hold on to it for as long as you could.

“You’re grounded!” Her eyes gleamed with unpurified anger. You were sure that if she didn’t have that election coming up she would have strangled you.

“For what?”

“From seeing this,” she looked your boyfriend up and down, “this Trashmouth trailer park piece of –“

“Mom!” You yelled. “I’m going to be 18 in 4 weeks, you don’t have the right to pick who I date anymore.”

“You live in this house, you follow my rules, and one of those rules is no dating fetal alcohol syndrome kids. His mother was an alcoholic you know where he’s heading.” You could feel Richie flinch even though he was so far away from you. His mother had overcome her alcohol addiction back in the summer of ’89, he had reasoned it to a feeling of great loss. But still it was something that haunted him every day, he knew she was trying now but it didn’t make the memories fade. Forgive not forget.

“Look Mayor, this is my fault I’ll just – “

“No Rich,” you stood facing your mother, “this is her problem not ours. She doesn’t know what love looks or feels like. Why don’t we show her?” He had a shame in his eyes that made your heart ache and you wanted to know you would choose him and choose him a thousand times. You walked over to him, throwing your arms around his neck before bringing him in for a kiss. You could hear your mother sputtering behind you and running out of the room before yelling for your father. Richie pulled away first a smirk on his lips.

“That’s going to cause a lot of fucking problems isn’t it?” You shrugged smiling back at him before taking his hand in yours. You were grateful he’d thought to get dressed as your mom yelled at you.

“Your place then?” His eyes twinkled at your prospect and he nodded.

                                        Promises me no promises.

The things you had once loved about him suddenly became a nuisance. His over daring spirit and smart mouth, grating on your every nerve. You could recall a time where a string of swears from him made you want to kiss his lips clean, but now it only had the effect where you wanted to cover your ears. You found yourself annoyed and bitter and blaming your mother for it. She had planted these poisonous thoughts about him in your brain and now it was reflecting in your relationship. At least that’s what you told yourself.

“Okay Richard, Christ put the bottle down.” You scolded going to grab the bottle from him as he danced to no music. It was his 2nd bottle even though he’d promised you he’d only drink a couple of drops from 1. Richie was only slightly buzzed since your sour mood was killing his drink.

“What the fuck is your problem tonight?” He said harsher then he meant to. He expected you to grow sad at his tone but instead you tensed up in anger.

“Nothing.” You bit back trying to control your tongue. Then one you had allowed him to free from it’s cage.

“Don’t fucking lie, you’ve been nothing but a pain in my ass for the past 2 weeks.” He had felt it, somewhere inside him, that this was how relationships ended. They started off with you loving everything about the other person but slowly grew to annoyance. Like you, Richie was now fed up with the amount of times you seemed to fumble over your feet, and the nibble of your lip he once thought was cute just seemed disgusting.

“I’ve been a pain in your ass?” The crashing sound of waves was too loud in your ears. “You haven’t had to deal with your obsessive swearing, the rude comments that come out of your ass every 5 seconds, how indecent you can be sometimes, the way you stare at other girls sometimes, how inconsiderate you are.”

“Inconsiderate?” He yelled.

“You let me get soaked in the rain!” You yelled back. It wasn’t the first time he had done it, as that was a part of Richie’s character, but it was the first time it had bothered you.

“You knew it was going to rain, you should have brought your own fucking jacket!”

“Your language is the worst!”

“No, your uptight I’m better than you attitude is the worst! The way you fumble over your feet as if you think someone wants to date a clutz, that ugly ass snort laugh!” He threw his hands in the air as he began to pace the room back in forth. You crossed your arms over your chest as if your hands could protect your heart from the blows it was taking. “And you panic over the stupidest stuff! What the fuck are you even nervous for?” You narrowed your eyes at him, the anger gathering somewhere near the hurt.

“At least I’m not the kid of a fucking drunk.” You spat out, your mouth moving quicker than your brain. Richie’s eyes grew wide behind his glasses and you could see the betrayal he felt. For a second you felt horrible, the need to apologize overcoming you. But then Richie opened his trash mouth.

“At least my mother loves me more than she loves her career.” He said it, and he knew he meant it to hurt you, he just didn’t know how much. Your expression copied his, filled with hurt and betrayal. You had both thrown your worst insecurities at the other, things you’d told each other in secret.

“I hate you.” You said as you stood at the entrance to his room, your back to him.

“Feelings mutual sweetcheeks.”

                 Baby, I think about you and I feel it, deep in my heart.

When you first met Beverly Marsh you were sure she was the last person in the Losers Club that you’d be close to. But as you sat in her room crying into her shoulder you wondered why that was.

“You’re both idiots.” She rubbed your back in gentle circles, unsure of how to properly console you. “And you said messed up stuff to each other that you shouldn’t have but I think you can fix it.”

“That’s the thing,” you cried, “it feels broken. We both told each other that the things that turned us off from the relationship are things we once loved.” You shook your head sadly looking down at your feet. It had been 3 days since the breakup, but the wound was still open. “Maybe my mom was right.”

“About what?”

“Richie.” You said simply. “She told me a boy who comes from a broken home can never love.”

“I think it’s unfair of you to agree with her on that.”

“How so?”

“We all come from broken homes, but that doesn’t stop us from loving each other and risking our lives for each other. Richie is a lot of things, but an unfeeling robot is not one of them.” She shook her head pulling away from the hug to look at you. “Your home life wasn’t perfect, it was all photoshoots and mirrors, but you still love Richie.”

“Loved.” You said. “I loved Richie.” The humor in your laugh was absent.

“How about we call Mike over and we play some board games.” You nodded in agreement.

                      Maybe we just ain’t meant to be something.

Richie was always good at putting on a macho act, as if he didn’t get hurt in the same way other people did. Years of having to deal with his mother had taught him that. But his friends could always see through that.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Eddie asked as Richie roughly hit the controls to Pac-man.

“Talk about what?” Your face was everywhere. He saw you when he closed his eyes to go to bed, and he saw you in his bed when he woke up, he saw your face when he went to the Quarry alone, he even saw your face in the Ms. Pacman game he was trying to beat.

“You and (Y/N).” Ben continued.

“Nothing to talk about.” 6 months of dating wasn’t easy to recover from, but Richie was determined to do it. It didn’t help that you guys shared 2 classes together and were lab partners in one of them. He figured he’d just skip the class and take the f and then retake the course in the summer when he wouldn’t have to see your face.

“R-rich you’re going to b-break Ms. Pa-pa-pa-pacman”

“She’s going to run her mouth and fucking break herself.” Richie hadn’t realized what he said until the boys got silent. He ran the sentence over and over in his head and ended up getting himself eaten by Blinky. He stared at the screen for a few second before slamming his easily on the controllers. “Fuck!”

“Richie, it’s okay.” Stan started but Richie didn’t want to hear it. He was tired of everyone telling him to give it time, he had an endless amount of that.

“No it’s fucking not! This is shit, this hurt, and it’s shit because I can’t stop feeling it.” Richie was feeling too many emotions at once to truly understand what he was going in his brain. “I love her, and I’ve been saying it in past tense because I don’t want to love her anymore, but I fucking do. I probably always will because I made myself that dumb fucking promise. No more promises.” The guys didn’t know what Richie was talking about but they listened anyway. “I can’t stop thinking about her and I can’t stop seeing her even though she was the one to ruin it with her fucking mouth.” He kicked the game and knew he would feel that pain later. “All her dumb cute little quirks had become so annoying and now all I can do is miss them.” He sighed now, calming down slightly. “I thought we wouldn’t be the couple who tries to change each other but apparently I was wrong.” When Ben could tell Richie wouldn’t try to break anything anymore he decided to give a go at talking to him.

“Rich, in all relationship there has to be compromise.” Ben started speaking slowly. “Each person is going to have to make fair adjustments to make it work, yes you two were fine in the beginning because you were just getting to know each other. But as the relationship goes on you become more comfortable and you stop settling and start realizing what you need.” Ben put his hand on Richie’s shoulder. “So yes, maybe her lip biting does get annoying to you but instead of getting angry about it you should help her stop. And maybe she trips over her feet so much because she needs glasses.”

“Maybe you should date her.” Richie said, and it caused Ben to chuckle. He thought of that perfect red hair and shook his head.

“There’s only one girl for me.”

“Me too.” Richie said sadly as he took into consideration what Ben had said.

“Then go get her.”

                                                    Maybe we are.

It had been 2 weeks since the breakup and 3 days since Richie had decided that harassing you was the proper way to get you back. He had started showing up in your Lab together and asking you constant questions. You knew Richie knew the answers but since the teacher was attentive about teamwork you responded anyway. He’d asked you to help him study after class but 2 weeks ago that had meant make out in one of the empty classrooms during lunch. So instead you’d shoot him a pointed look and scurry away. You weren’t sure if you were angry with yourself or with him or with the both of you combined. The words you had thrown at each other were like jagged knives and they’d cut deeply. You had been the one to start the fight, calling out the things that seemed to cause you annoyance and Richie had retaliated, the way he always would. You shook your head clearing your thoughts before walking into the lunchroom. Sitting at the table with the Losers Club seemed inappropriate since you had been the one to practically begged to join them. So, you sat alone at a table next to the kids who played banjo. Beverly, Mike, and Ben would often come sit with you and sometimes Eddie, Stan, and Bill made an appearance but overall their alliance was to Richie and you respected them for that. You had barely gotten your lunch out of your boring paper bag when Richie sat down besides you.

“What’s cookin good lookin.” You snorted in response but quickly covered your nose with your hand, knowing that Richie had said he’s hated it. Richie noticed and felt his stomach drop, for a moment he considered getting up and leaving before either of you could hurt the other again, but he remembered what Ben had told him and stayed where he was. “Not going to answer doll face?” You had previously called his mannerisms annoying, but you found yourself swooning over the nicknames, though you didn’t let the feeling last long. “Come on baby, talk to me.”

“I’m clearly trying to ignore you Richard.” You considered your brown paper back as if it held the secrets to the universe.

“Why?” For some reason the innocent question caused you to snap. You looked up and into his eyes pointedly.

“Because we’re a mess, we’re a fucking mess.” The swore tasted disgusting on your tongue. “You hate my snort, and my panicky behavior, you hate all the things you used to love about me and I hate how much alcohol you drink, and I hate that you swear so much. We hate the things that make us who we are as individuals, we fucking suck, we’re a mess, and we shouldn’t be together.” You snapped, your eyes burning.

“Is that all?”

“What?”

“Is that the only reason we shouldn’t be together?”

“No,” You didn’t know what you were doing or why you were running your mouth, “We’re as bad as our fucking parents. Sucking the life out of good things and making them terrible. We’re opposites and we both have weird qualities and that was supposed to be what made us work but no it tore us apart so how can two broken fucked up people be together?”

“I can see why you hate when I curse, it sounds so weird when you do it.” Was he joking with you? When you were being completely serious.

“That too!” You screeched, “I’m trying to have a conversation with you and you’re making jokes!”

“I’m sorry baby, I’m sorry,” He was chuckling under his breath.

“Leave.”

“Huh?”

“Leave Tozier, you obviously aren’t mature enough to handle this conversation.” Richie’s face contorted into several different expressions before he nodded, stood, and walked away. Your eyes watered a second time and you laid your head down on the table in frustration. You wished things were as simple as they were when you first started dating.

“Attention everyone!” You groaned, as you lifted your tear stained face from the table. Richie was standing on a table in the center of the lunchroom where people were trying to eat. “This is an important public service announcement.” He made eye contact with you and cupped his hands over his mouth like a microphone. “I love (Y/N) (Y/L/N).” A collective group of awe’s. “And recently we broke up after 6 long months.” You noticed he was refraining from cursing. Someone yelled out oh that sucks. “The thing is I still love (Y/N) and I know I’m not good at a lot but loving her is what comes the most naturally to me.” Your face heat up in embarrassment. “I can’t promise I won’t swear, and I can’t promise not to drink,” you wondered where the teachers were to stop this, “I can’t promise I won’t make crude jokes, and I definitely can’t promise I won’t get myself into trouble.” The Losers Club was edging him on. “Just like I know you can’t promise not to snort laugh and get panicky – “

“Get to the point Trashmouth!” Mike yelled.

“The point is, I’m sorry for the things I said, and I’ll try. For you, I’ll try everyday if you help me. I want to make us work (Y/N), I want to love you and be able to love you for a very long time, but you have to want to work with me too.” The entire lunch room was looking at you now. “What do you say (Y/N)?” You stood up, your brain telling you to walk out of the Lunchroom, but you had never listened to your brain before. So, you followed your heart and walked straight to that lunch table – where kids were still trying to eat – climbed it and planted your lips to Richie’s. The lunchroom erupted in cheers and calls of endearment as you two kissed in front of everyone.

“Okay, okay, that’s enough.” At teacher tapped your leg and you shook them off put pulled away anyway. “Get down.” Richie hopped off the lunch table and offered you his hand. You took it and he gently helped you down, even though you didn’t need it. He hugged you tightly to him, ready to never let you go again.

“I think we can make one promise though.”

“Depends on what it is.”

“No promises.”

It's so easy to fall for each other. I'm just hoping we catch one another

[creativitymouth]

Up-Surge Pt.1

A/N - So there is a 50/50 chance I won’t be uploading this as often as I uploaded TWFBTWF because I have a lot of requests I am also working on at the moment but I will be continuing this if the response is well enough.

Summary: We can’t contain the unknown. AgedUp!EddieKaspbrakxFem!Reader

Trigger Warnings: Germs, Swearing.

Forever Tags: @mari-melancholy​ @hello-mynameisfinn​

Chapter 1: The Spread

Day 1:                                                                                                                    It was just a cough. A young woman passing by a child and forgetting to cover her mouth. She didn’t see the countless bacteria she’d spread, she hadn’t known she’d infected others. Her trip to Malaysia had been an innocent one, all she’d wanted to do was care for the innocent there. If only she knew what was inside of her meat.

Day 2:                                                                                                                    5 cases now, spreading across New York. Hands touching bus poles, bodies pushed together on crowded trains, money being passed to the waitress at the local diner. They don’t know. They think it’s just a common cold, it is so much more.

Day 3:                                                                                                                    The Center for Disease Control has been notified 18 cases, 6 dead. They have no idea what they’re working with. They’ve never seen anything like it. It’s a cross between Swine Flu and Bird Flu, with violent symptoms.

Day 5:                                                                                                                It’s spreading like wildfire. One uncovered sneeze in a movie theatre and the entire movie-goers are sick. A mother goes home to tuck her child to bed. She forgot to wash her hands before touching him. Not that it would have helped any. Her head spins violently, her mouth is dry, vision blurry. The Doctor has said it was just a cold. Just a cold.

Day 8:                                                                                                               They don’t want to alarm the masses. 48 cases in New York. 12 in Massachusetts. 10 in Washington. It is spreading like wildfire. And there is no cure. They can’t figure out who patient sub-zero was, they do not know of her travel to Malaysia. They do not know of the infected meat she ate. They do not know that she went home to kiss her mother on the forehead. She died 2 days after infection, without a trace to her there may be no hope.

Day 12:                                                                                                             They must tell the people. New York is suffering. Massachusetts is close behind. The larger the city is populated the easier infection spreads. No one thinks to wipe down subway seats before they sit, or to wear gloves when they touch things others have encountered. They had conditioned them to not be afraid. Now they should be.

Day 20:                                                                                                           Mass Hysteria. Doctors are fleeing their jobs. How can they work without a cure? It has spread past the East but, yet they haven’t shut down travelling. They consider quarantining New York, they don’t for now. People wear Masks outside, but it isn’t enough. Now is not a time to be brave. Stay in your homes and pray for the best.

Day 30, Hour 12:                                                                                              Eddie Kaspbrak sits in his Derry home watching the new reports of the fast spreading virus. His friends had always teased him about his obsessively clean and hygienic quirks. Now look where they were. A virus with no cure, airborne, and extremely deadly. All you had to do to contract it was touch what the infected came in contact with. Chance of survival from the illness was low at least until they could come up with a cure. But in 30 days New York State and Massachusetts had already been placed under quarantine, no one in or out. They’d thought it would prohibit the spread of the infection but they were wrong. Eddie knew Maine was 7 hours away from New York and 4 hours away from Massachusetts, but those numbers seemed so small. Already 1 person had fallen ill in Derry though rumors told it was just a chest cold. Isn’t that what all the infected had thought? Just a cold.

Day 30, Hour 14:                                                                                               Your father, ever the stubborn man, did not take heed of the virus warnings. He still traveled the days to work. It was not until Day 20 of the spread that anyone noticed his lethargic behavior. Your mother had locked him away in their room to try and contain the illness. She tried to tell your sister and yourself that it was nothing to worry about. 4 days later they were both dead, rotting away in their rooms as you held your younger sister to you while she cried. Your aunt had come to retrieve you and now you were being sterilized in the basement of her house in Derry, Maine. You understood why the precautions she took were necessary. She didn’t want to risk infecting her 3-month-old child and husband. She took you in out of courtesy, not because she wanted nor needed too. Your sister was just 10 years old, her child-like brain unable to understand what was going on. She didn’t see the dangers of contact and would whimper when denied hugs from her extended family. You too missed the embrace of another human beside her, but you had learned to accept what you were given.

“This can’t get much worse.” You spoke aloud, your sister was snoring soundly beside you. You didn’t know how wrong you were.

Day 45, Hour 17:                                                                                                The Infected now display signs of insanity. They run rampant in the streets, with a fervor you’d only seen in movies. They foamed at the mouth, clawed at their eyes, and attacked anyone in sight. This was the last stage of the illness, the only thing to follow was death. You listened on as your aunt cried softly.

“Even if you don’t believe in a God, I suggest you pray.” The spokesman said. “The illness has once again developed just out of reach in time for our doctors to find a cure.” His face was red and blotchy, and you wondered if he would be the next to fall ill. “The sick are now experiencing Walking Dead like symptoms. If you come into contact with one,” he paused taking in a large breath, “well may God help you. May God help us all.” He signed out then and the only sounds left in the house were the cries of your aunt.

“(Y/N)?” You looked down at your sister taking in her large eyes.

“Yes baby?”

“Am I going to die?” You didn’t respond because you didn’t know how too. “Are you?” You looked away from her to the TV, watching as the ill roamed the streets in anger. Some sat banging their heads on the concrete, others chased passerby. The world was in chaos. The sickness, still had failed to reach Derry but you knew peace didn’t last.

“No Sully.” You said with strength because you knew you meant those words. “Neither of us is going to die.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

Day 50, Hour 20:                                                                                            “Have you seen the hot new girl next door?” Richie was squinting through the blinds in Eddie’s room. Pretending as though he was oblivious to the chaos outside. He was 18, but in the heat of the everything he felt 100.

“No.” Eddie responded blandly. Unlike Richie he couldn’t ignore the death counts, and the ill roaming around like zombies. He hardly wanted Richie at his home and breathing the same air as him, there was no way to insure he didn’t carry the virus. “I’ve been busy studying.”

“For what? Schools been out for 3 weeks.”

“I still need an education Tozier.”

“What you need is to ease up and get some fresh air.”

“Yes, because I am so keen on getting ill and then attacking my mother in a frenzy of neurological madness.” Richie rolled his eyes, accustomed to his best friends tiring sarcastic commentary.

“She moved here like a little less than 3 weeks ago.” This caught Eddie’s attention. He put down his Trigonometry textbook and faced where Richie was playing peeping tom from the window.

“She has a little sister too.”

“Moved here?” Eddie mumbled under his breath. “From where?”

“Washington, D.C.” Richie turned away from the window and watched as the wheels of panic turned inside of Eddie’s head.

“How long ago?” He didn’t want to think too much about it, there was a chance he was just overreacting. There was also a chance he wasn’t.

“I said a little under 3 weeks ago.”

“What day was that?”

“Um, if I remember I saw the car pull up on the March 27th.” Richie was trying to play it off, but he knew that was the day you had moved in. Since the spread of the virus, and the shutdown of the school he’d had nothing to do but watch life pass him by. He had been doing just that when he saw your aunt’s car come back into town. “Why?”

“Washington was quarantined on the 1st of April. She came here from an infected zone. She’s going to get us all killed.” Eddie had begun to pace the room frantically. There had been a scare once before that Derry had contracted the illness but if someone was here from an infected zone that raised the stakes. “She’s going to run out of that house, come over here, and attack me. She’s going to be foaming at the mouth and crazy and going to completely fucking ruin my chances of survival.”

“Calm the fuck down.” Richie moved away from the window and over to the passing Eddie. He put his hands on his shoulders to try and slow his paced movements. “Think of the plus side in all of this.”

“What plus side?”

“The Losers Club can now become like Zombie fighting bad-asses.”

“What?”

“You know,” Rich took his hands-off Eddie’s shoulders to gesture into the air, “How in every T.V show there’s a group of kids who fights monsters or something. That could be us.”

“This isn’t a fucking T.V show, it’s real life.” Eddie was growing tired of Richie’s look at the Brightside attitude. To him there was no Brightside just infected people roaming the streets, and an illness that had no cure. “And they aren’t zombies.”

“They’re close enough.” Richie smiled at Eddie, he knew his best friend was nervous, but he didn’t see a reason to be. The likelihood of the illness reaching Derry was 0 to none.

Day 51, Hour 20:                                                                                                    They now had a name for the people infected who became mad. They called them Rabid and they were dangerous.

Day 52, Hour 4:                                                                                                   He had just managed to escape the quarantine in Florida, seconds before the barriers had come down he’d drove his car through. He’d heard the sirens following him but after about an hour of chase they’d given up. He wasn’t infected, so it didn’t matter if he left. That’s what he kept telling himself as he drove to what he considered a haven town. He had been raised in Derry, Maine and knew that the infection couldn’t have spread there so quickly. He could lie low here and not have to worry about becoming a Rabid or getting pulverized by one.

Day 54, Hour 14:                                                                                                  He was experiencing dry mouth and blurry vision. He told himself that it was just the nervousness of having escaped with his health. He handed money to the waitress bringing his food, she gave the money to the cashier, and the cashier put it inside of the register. The Cashier went home to hug his wife and kiss his 3-month-old baby on the forehead. He didn’t touch his wife’s nieces in fear that they were infected. He didn’t know that he now carried the virus, that he should be afraid of himself and not the young girls in the basement.

Day 57, Hour 12:                                                                                                  The man who traveled into town looking for haven died, after clawing his eyes out in a fit of rage. He had denied his symptoms for so long that he was capable of spreading the virus in the small town. All it took was a cough, a handshake, a hug, and someone else was infected.

The Waitress had died alone in her house where she had one day hoped to start a family. She hadn’t had much but she was content to build, now she would never have that chance.

Then there had been the Cashier:

“Sully,” You whispered as your aunt began to violently cough. “Come here right now. Cover your mouth.” The Cashier had been your Uncle and though he had shown the symptoms of the illness your aunt refused to believe he was sick.

“But auntie is making us a sandwich.” Your uncle had yet to come out of his room that morning, you’d figured he was dead. Maybe your aunt had killed him when she started to experience signs of madness.

“Sully,” you took a deep breath as you watched your aunt slowly slamming the knife onto the cutting board, “I said now.” Your sister saw the panic in your eyes and scrambled over to your side. “Walk to the front door and run to the neighbor’s house when I tell you to.” She was staring at your aunt as she cackled to herself the madness settling in her bones. Her head was tilting side to side threateningly, her eyes leaking blood as she coughed. “Don’t take your hand from your mouth no matter what.”

“(Y/N)?” Your sister whimpered as she started walking to the front door her eyes never leaving her aunt.

“You did this.” Her voice was hoarse and tired as she waves the knife in the air in front of her face. “You brought this illness here.” She turned to you smiling with her teeth blood stained. She coughed blood spewing from her mouth. You instinctively put your hand over your face inhaling short breaths.  “Come give auntie – “she struggled to speak the blood gurgling in her mouth, so instead of finishing she lunged towards you.

“Go, Sully! Now!” You listened as your sister’s footsteps took off from behind you. Your aunt had given up the ability to speak and was now just making wet sounds from her throat. You pulled your sleeves over your hands grabbing the nearest chair and throwing it at her. It hit her in the leg, but she wasn’t at all stunned as she took another lunge for you. You stepped away quick enough and grabbed the thing too your left. It was a set of forks and you weren’t very sure they would help but you’d flung them at her regardless. You were very aware of your bodies proximity to hers and became grateful for the fact that she’d been so paranoid that you or your sister carried the illness. Those plastic utensils suddenly seemed like a godsend. The forks hit her in her forehead and did absolutely nothing. She shook her head, reaching out for your foot. You screamed kicking out at her not wanting her to meet your skin.

“(Y/N)!” You didn’t have to turn your head to recognize the voice as your sisters. Your aunts head snapped in the direction of Sully.

“What the fuck Sully, I thought I told you to go!”

“I heard you scream!”

“And that caused you to come back?” You would have taken more time to scold her if your infested aunt hadn’t changed course. Her ears had begun to bleed, and you knew it was only moments before she depleted all her energy and dropped dead, but moments were too long. Since her attention was temporarily distracted from you, you took the opportunity to slip towards the butcher knife she had been making sandwiches with. You should have known something was wrong then, but you wanted to play house and ignore it. No one made turkey sandwiches with a butcher’s knife. Your sister was screaming as your aunt cackled and stared at her. It was if her brain was melting. Pulling down your sleeve over your hand you picked up the knife.

“(Y/N)!” You turned around with the weapon in your hand to see your aunt having cornered Sully. You took a deep breath - which you realized you shouldn’t have done and didn’t have time for – before walking quickly over to your aunt and stabbing her in the shoulder blade. She howled in pain reaching around for the knife in her back. You took her lapse of pain as a chance to escape.

“Go!” You yelled at your sister, “Go, go, go.” You wished you could push her, but you didn’t want to risk infecting her. She glanced once more at your animalistic aunt before turning and running out the door. You followed behind her and with your hands still covered by your sleeves you shut the door and locked. You know her cognition would be to messed up for her to turn the knob to begin with but you wanted to be safe. You stripped your shirt off - it had come into contact with a lot of things that carried the virus - and tossed it to the side. “Walk to the neighbors, don’t touch me.” You said sternly as you moved a couple of paces away from your sister. You were happy she’d come back because it had saved your life, but it had also risked her own. After the death of your mom and dad you weren’t ready to handle another. Sure, the passing of your aunt had been sad, but you’d never had a close relationship with them to begin with. When you reached the neighbors door you shooed your sister away, she took several large steps over.

“Who is it?” Your eyebrows quirked up, you hadn’t expected someone to answer so quickly. The

voice sounded strained and nervous, but it was obviously a boy around your age.

“We need help.” You tried to keep the desperate pleading from your voice. Eddie peaked out of the peep hole, and was mortified by your lack of clothing.

“I don’t sell clothes.”

“No, what the –“ You took a shuddering breath in. You were still overcome with nerves over your aunts Rabidism. When it had first started you weren’t given a chance to let it sink, but now standing here with your thoughts and a boy who wouldn’t open his front door you couldn’t shake the metallic taste of fear. “Please open the door. My little sister is only 10 and she’s afraid and so am I, we have nowhere else to go.” Eddie shifted his weight between his feet. He could see it in your eyes, something terrible had happened over in that house. He didn’t know if he wanted to risk bringing it to his own. “Please.” You tried again as the emotion clogged your throat.

“Oh, for fucks sake.” Eddie whispered to himself before swinging his door open. “Come in.”

“Thank you.” He didn’t look at you as you stepped inside of his living room, a shaking girl behind you. You stood in the center of the small house as your sister sat on a lounging chair and curled into herself. She at once started to cry, and you wished for nothing more than the ability to comfort her. Eddie tossed you a shirt from the bag of clothes he had by the door if he ever needed to make an escape. You caught it gratefully and shifted it over your head. Between your sister’s cries and the way, you stood stiffly, the tension inside of the living room was awkward.

“The illness,” you cleared your throat looking up at the lanky boy before you, “it’s in Derry.”

[creativitymouth]

Do yall also have these mutuals that you just??? Grew really fond of?? Like, you never properly talk to them and all you do is like each other’s posts but whenever you see them on your dash you’re like “hello sunshine, I hope you’re drinking lots of water and being happy your health and wellbeing is so important to me” and I hope that’s not weird because honestly that’s me all the time

[creativitymouth]

It's 1:30am and I have school tomorrow but I'm in bed sobbing because of The World Forgetting by the World Forgotten. For weeks I'd seen people reblog your chapters, but only recently had I gotten around to reading the story, and I now understand why it's gotten so much praise. Your writing is so powerful, and even small things like correct grammar and the way you describe things made it amazing. I absolutely loved it and can't wait for more of your work. XXX

THIS WAS THE SWEETEST THING EVER OMG. Thank you so much for reading my story I really appreciate it. AHHH i wish I could print out this comment and hang it up on my wall. 

[creativitymouth]

Okay just wanted to say that I fucking love you sm and you are so amazing -joke anon

HI JOKE ANON I WAS WORRIED ABOUT YOU AND I AM SO GLAD YOU'RE ALIVE ILY 2

[creativitymouth]

Masterlist

(send in more requests)

IT (2017)

Richie Tozier

The World Forgetting By The World Forgotten. Series. 

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

Part 11

Part 12

Part 13 14

Alternate Ending

——–

Unrequited Undecided

Blind Eyes Tell Lies (Coming Soon)

Illusions a Hogwarts AU (Coming Soon)

Work So Well (Coming Soon)

No Promises (Coming Soon)

Boundaries (Coming Soon)

Stanley Uris

No Time Like Now (Coming Soon)

Moonlight (Coming Soon)

Eddie Kaspbrak

Up-Surge a Contagion AU (Coming Soon)

Be More Chill

Jeremy Heere x Michael Mell

All Boys Catholic School AU - HeadCanon (coming soon)

[creativitymouth]

no but i love angst so i was wondering if you could do a richie x reader where although they're dating, richie still tends to flirt w/girls and it kinda just ticks off the reader and one day he goes too far and he realizes that he really hurt the reader so he tries his best to prove that he loves her and only her? sdflkdfj im sorry if this dosent make sense,,,, anyways ily and ur blog and keep up the fabulous work!

Oh hell to the yes

[creativitymouth]

Ahhh I love Unrequited Undecided!!!! You amaze me once more babe 💕

Thank you so much!

[creativitymouth]

Unrequited Undecided

A/N - I didn’t get a chance to edit this as much as I want to so here have a rough draft. I’m just pretty busy working hard on the Eddie Kaspbrak series. And the Hogwarts AU. 

Summary: @thestonedprincess  Hi! Before I ask anything, I just wanted to say you write really awesome stuff! I'm very picky about the things I read, and I have to say, the The World Forgetting By The World Forgotten hit the jackpot! I was going to ask for a Richie x Reader or Stan x Reader (I don't really care which, I love them both!) where it is the readers birthday and Stan/Richie gets them something really personal and it's all just super fluffy! Thanks! Love ya! (It's okay if you can't write this, I totally understand) 

I hope you like it!

Trigger Warning: Dead parent, Alcoholic parent, Trashmouth Tozier.

FOREVER TAGS: @mari-melancholy @hello-mynameisfinn

For 10 years of your life you had listened to your mom read Amelia Bedelia to you. The book had been published in 1963 when she herself, was just 9 years old. She’d kept that first edition copy with her since then and you had grown up with it. That book meant the world to you, you could have recited it from heart. Sadly, winter 1986 your mother had died from breast cancer. It was sudden, quick, and unexpected, leaving a bitter taste of resentment in your mouth. She was your best friend and the only one who truly knew you. You could still hear her soft voice humming to you at night. After she died your father had become stoic, abandoning your Texas home for small town Derry, Maine causing you to lose your cherished book in the process. Your parents love had been true, and you were convinced that when your mom died so did your dad. He harbored a grudge over how much of her he saw in your face so to avoid his negative emotions he found comfort in a bottle.

Richie Tozier knew all of this. He had met you cowering in the woods during the summer of ’89 when a woman with sunken eyes and a hospital gown was hovering over you. He had never seen someone so terrified in his life (besides himself) so despite his better judgement he grabbed your hand and ran, cursing the entire way. When he stopped running and went to ask if you were okay you had cut him off asking him

“Is that anyway to talk with a lady present?”

His mind had boggled, didn’t he just do a good deed, and you were scolding him about his language?

“Listen here babe, I just fucking risked my own damn life, to save yours and I don’t even fucking know you. How about a thank you for fucks sake.”

“You need your mouth washed out with soap, and I am not your babe or anyone else’s for that matter.”

“You’re such a stiff. Do you live in the fucking 50’s and what’s with the dumb accent?”

“I’m from – “

“Tennessee? Cause you’re the only Ten I See.” He smirked as you both continued to walk quickly. You had no clue where he was leading you, but you supposed the Library could wait if it gave you a chance to make a friend. Even if it was in the moments after danger. Living in Derry for 3 years you had yet to meet a kind face and though the boy next to you reeked of crude jokes and sexual innuendos you decided it was a better place to start than nowhere.

“Texas, and your humor is terrible.”

Richie rolled his eyes, it wasn’t the first time someone had taken a distaste to his jokes and it wouldn’t be the last. He found the way you were handling your encounter with a near death experience strange yet also enticing at the same time. Who made idle conversation after seeing creepy women in hospital gowns? Awkward silence had filled the air as you tried to think of something to say.

“So, you’re seeing the clown too then.” You settled on. Richie’s eyes darkened behind his glasses.

“You should talk to my friend Bill. He’s got this really ugly stutter but he can answer your questions better than I can.” After that you and the Losers club stayed close, fighting Pennywise, and the demons of adolescence together. Beverly had been your favorite and you could recall sobbing when she left for her Aunts. You still called in weekly even years later.

It was now Fall 1992 and though you may not have been an original member they all cherished you deeply. That’s why they, or more so Richie, had decided on this Surprise Party for you for your 16th birthday. Stan had been the one to ask your dad for permission since he was the most presentable out of all the boys and to their relief he had agreed. It could have been because he was in one of his half drunken states, but no one made comment of that. They all had their parental baggage.  

In the 3 years he had known you Richie had found himself developing what most would consider a crush. But since he was Richie Tozier he only thought of it as a want to get inside of your pants (and then maybe cuddle after).

So why was he running around the entire town looking for the original copy of Amelia Bedelia?

“Because you like her dumbass.” Eddie interrupted Richie’s long tirade of thoughts.

“I didn’t – “

“The question is written all over your face man.” Michael slapped Richie on the shoulder gently. Richie shook his head, suddenly relieved he enlisted Stan and Ben to distract you for the day as he looked for the gift. He knew Benjamin would certainly start spewing poetry out of his ass the moment love came up. He may have grown into himself, but the kid was still a hopeless romantic.

“Trashmouth Tozier doesn’t do feelings, he’s a hit em and quit em kind of guy.” He spoke in the 3rd person to convey a security he didn’t feel.

“So, you wouldn’t mind if Bill asked her out then?” Eddie was hiding his smirk behind a stack of books he was carrying. Mike and Eddie had created their own plan to get Richie to realize his feelings. He was very prone to jealousy in most aspects of his life.

“What?” Richie stopped searching for a moment and looked up. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh yeah, Denbrough has been talking about asking (Y/N) out for weeks. And since you don’t like her it shouldn’t be a problem.” Mike was better at secrets and games then Eddie was. He kept a straight face as he thumbed through the different book titles. “What did you say the name of the author is?”

“Stuttering Bill is gonna ask out (Y/N)?”

“Yeah, so?” Eddie asked. Mike nudged him in the side to keep him from laughing and blowing their cover.

“She’s not his type.”

“What’s his type?”

“Short haired redheads who like poetry and fat boys.”

“Beverly lives like 60 hours away.” Mike rolled his eyes. “I asked you for the authors name.”

“Peggy Parrish.” Richie grumbled as he found himself upset. There was a slow burning fire in his stomach and somewhere behind his eyes. He wanted to punch Billy in the face the way he had done him in front of the Neibolt house 3 years ago. His feelings for (Y/N) were no more than his primal urge to sleep with you. You were bossy, prissy, you didn’t laugh at all his jokes, hated that he swore so often, had to keep everything impeccably clean, and were always reading something. Even worse, you hated cigarettes, something Richie had come not to be able to live without. You were the exact opposite of Richard Tozier. At the same time, he cursed less when you were around, always pulled out his best t-shirt, and made sure to fix his hair. You always check to see if he ate and defended him when the other losers were too harsh. It made something flutter in his belly, but he always attributed it to his groin.

She’s just hot Tozier, that’s it. He told himself. So then why was he so uncomfortable with the thought of you dating Bill?

“Do you kids need help with anything?”

“Shit.” Richie jumped, still having been suffering the effects from the summer of ’89. When he looked up to see a soft older man watching them closely he relaxed.

“Sorry Sir,” Mike begun he understood why Richie had jumped, none of them had peace of mind anymore, “We’re looking to see if you have the 1963 copy of Amelia Bedelia by Peggy Parish? Original Cover.” The older man seemed to consider this as he watched the odd trio.

“I’ll go check in the back.” His voice shook as he hobbled away. Richie couldn’t help but revert to his thoughts on Bill and you. Mike took notice of this and nudged Eddie who had been looking at some health manuals. When Eddie glanced up he looked at where Mike was suggesting and couldn’t help but chuckle a bit.

“He looks like a lost dog.” Eddie whispered. “Watch this.” Mikes eyebrows rose but he shrugged. “Yeah they’d make a great couple.” Eddie’s voice was uncharacteristically loud, and it at once caught Richie’s attention.

“Are you fuckwits still talking about (Y/N) and Bill?”

“I’m just really rooting for them.” Eddie continued.

“When you think about the way he saved her from Pennywise in the Neibolt house, it only makes sense.” Mike added on, seeing where Eddie was going with this.

“I fucking saved her first! That’s how we met her boring ass remember!”

“Woah there Rich, sounds like you’re jealous.” Michael chuckled his arms crossed across his chest as he leaned back on a bookshelf. Richie swore under his breath as the man made his way back towards them. He had a small smile on his face, his hands behind his back.

“I honestly didn’t think we’d have any. That copy is much older than the stuff we carry but we happened to have just one.”

“Holy shit.” The man presented the book to Richie whose eyes had gone wide at the sight of the dusty book.

“That’s 30$”

“Eds, spot me a 10.”

“What? You don’t have it?” Eddie rolled his eyes in annoyance.

“Of course, I fucking do, I just want to get something else. Now lend me the money will ya.”

“Your version of lend is everyone else’s version of have.” Mike laughed loudly as the boys exchanged the cash and then went about buying the book. Richie’s heart fluttered as he stuffed the book into the bag he used for the school year. He hated to admit it, but he was excited to see the look on your face when you opened it.

Maybe he did have more feelings than he’d care to admit to.

Your dad had left earlier in the day to the pub, where he would go when his thoughts became too loud. You didn’t know how long the grieving process was supposed to last but 6 years seemed passed its prime. When you thought of your mother’s smile, and looked in the mirror and saw her eyes, you hurt as well. Yet you refrained from letting it consume you. You wanted to keep living because you knew she wanted that too.

“Where are you going?” Ben asked you as you turned to go downstairs.

“Into my kitchen to get some of my food.” You rolled your eyes at Ben’s behavior, he had been acting strange since he arrived earlier in the morning. In Ben’s defense he had was supposed to keep you busy, for the second time this week, as the other Losers snuck in and set up downstairs. At 3 O’clock he was supposed to bring you to your basement but that wasn’t for another 30 minutes.

“Wait another 30 minutes.”

“No offense Benjamin but you have been extremely controlling since my Father left. Is there something you would like to discuss?”

“Uhm.” Ben was stumped, your father had been the one to let the losers in when he left, and they were supposed to be quiet going about their tasks, but of course they weren’t. Ben had to convince you that the place was haunted to stop you from checking on the noise.  “Yes?”

“Yes? Are you unsure?”

“Yes.” He paused blinking. “I mean no, I’m not unsure. Yes, there’s something I want to ask you.”

“Well what is it?”

“Does Beverly ever ask about me?” He blurted out. It was something Ben did think about often because besides you and occasionally Richie the rest of the losers had fallen out of contact with her. Your eyebrows screwed together, as you tilted your head to the side. Now that the feeling was out there, there was no having them. “I know it’s been a while since I last spoke to her, but she was – “

“Your first love?” He nodded his cheeks becoming cherry red. “And you felt like she never noticed you, or only noticed you briefly?” Ben looked up at you as your expression became thoughtful. You had felt like this on many occasions. Your crush on Trashmouth Tozier was deadly, ignorant, and not at all thought through. Yet you still entertained it. You knew he had bad qualities and that you too were so different on catastrophic level, but you couldn’t wipe the crooked smile and ugly sweaters from your mind. Somehow though your feelings had gone unnoticed by Richie and it always seemed to you that he didn’t really think of you in that way. “Emotions are wild and complicated and I’m not sure if Beverly understood what transpired between the both of you during those couple of months.” Ben looked away because even though you didn’t directly answer his question he knew what the answer was. “Would you like to speak about it?” He sighed before agreeing and for the next 30 minutes you both spoke about the unfairness of love. There was no upside to unrequited.

“No, you fucking idiot it goes over there.” Richie whisper yelled as Stan fumbled with the Happy Birthday poster.

“If you don’t shut up she’s going to hear us.”

“She’s going to come down here and see a fucking mess if you don’t get it right.”

“Since when do you care about doing things right?” Stan asked. “I’ve seen you write random numbers on our Geometry homework.”

“This is more important.” Richie grumbled as Stan moved over to where he had pointed. There was only 5 more minutes until Ben brought you downstairs and Richie found himself growing nervous. His eyes seemed to be trying to keep track of Bill wherever he went, he was afraid Bill would get to you first and he’d never have a chance to express to you that he –

That I think she’s hot. Richie shook his head not wanting to delve any deeper into his thoughts. The entire room was decorated in royal blue decorations. A color you had long ago told them reminded you of serenity.

“3 minutes and things are looking good.” Michael said. “Are you ready Bill?”

“Is Bill ready?” Richie spun around to face the boys behind him. Eddie shushed him at once afraid you would hear them. ”What would Bill need to be ready for?”

“He’s going to ask (Y/N) out when she opens his gift.”  This wasn’t exactly true, Bill was going to act as if he was going to ask you out and hope Richie would cut him off.        They were all tired of watching the you guys ogle each other from afar. So, they figured setting it into motion themselves was the best choice.

“What?!”

“Richie shut it.” Eddie whispered.

“Y-yeah Rich what’s the p-p-problem?” Bill was thankful for his 3rd grade acting coach, or he would have burst out laughing at the angry look on Richie’s face.

“It’s just not fucking – “

“They’re coming!” Eddie hissed cutting Richie off. “Hide, hide.” Richie had time to shoot Bill an angrier look before he scattered behind the couch. He could hear the rhythmic thumping of Stan’s fingers next to him and each pat was making the dread build in his stomach. He couldn’t let Bill ask you out. It would hurt him if you said yes and he couldn’t even figure out why. The sound of you and Ben padding down the hall shook him out of his thoughts. He counted the seconds until the lights flipped on and when they finally did he jumped up and screamed happy birthday at the top of his lungs.

You stumbled back for a moment eyes wide at the sight of your friends. There were banners everywhere, pictures pinned to the walls of the loser’s club, confetti and streamers scattered around.

“Oh, my lord,” Your shocked expression slowly morphed into a smile “I can’t believe you guys did this.”

Eddie had given you a new journal since he knew how much you enjoyed writing down your feelings. Mike smiled as he passed you Forever My Lady by Jodeci tape for your Walkman. Stan got you Moon Shoes, everyone laughed as you awkwardly tried to bounce around in them. Ben had chuckled as he watched you unwrap the Easy Bake Oven. You had smiled so wide when you saw what it was, and he had told you that you no longer had to worry about making a mess in the kitchen.

Now, you were opening Bills gift. Richie had squished himself between you and Bill, trying to assure he wouldn’t make his move. For Richie time had seemed to slow, as you peeled back the paper he couldn’t help but wonder if Bill’s gift really was better than his. White parchment inside of a frame peeked out and his heart thrummed in his ears.

“Oh, for fucks sake just tear the paper off.”

“Language, Richard.” You scolded but did as he suggested. Your mouth fell open when you saw what Bill had given you. A portrait of your smiling face, it looked like a photograph it was realistic. “This is,” You paused taking a deep breath and turning to look at Bill, “amazing. I really love it, it must have taken you forever.”

“Yeah I h-h-had to get in a-all your perfections.” You laughed aloud at this. Bill was never one to flirt he’d left that job to Richie but if he was going to sell this part he was going to act it out the best he could. And Richie Tozier was taking the bait. His hands were growing clammy as he watched you stare at the gift in amazement. Bill really had captured your beauty in it. “(Y/N)?” Bill said lightly and as you looked up at him, Richie’s heart began to beat wildly. The rest of the Losers club had their eyes glued on the trio in front of them. They could see how nervous Richie was and only hoped it helped push him to realize his feelings. “Can I ask you s-something?”

“Of course.” Richie was going to panic, he couldn’t let this happen. He needed you to see his gift first.

“I really like y- “

“It’s my turn!” Richie yelled suddenly. Michael had to cover his mouth to keep himself from bursting out laughing. Richie’s face was just so priceless. “Open my gift.” You looked from Bill to Richie unsure of what just happened but when Bill shrugged you turned away.

“Well I suppose you can ask me later.” You mumbled under your breath. Richie passed you a blue birthday bag before looking away from you. He was starting to doubt his own intentions. Surely, he just wanted to sleep with you and get to you before Bill. But as you started pulling out the paper from the bag he knew he had been lying to himself. The concentrated look on your face to ensure you didn’t rip the paper as you bit your lip was enough to get his stomach to twist. He wanted to kiss those lips. After having folded all the tissue paper you reached your hand inside to remove the gift. Richie watched on with nervous energy.

“I –“ Your eyes filled with tears as you stared down at the cover of Amelia Bedelia. Images of you mother flashed in your head the lump in your throat growing. “I just,” you looked at Richie whose face was flushed red. There were no words to describe how you felt and how grateful you were, all you could think to do was throw your arms around his neck and cry. Richie tensed up, he felt awkward with all the emotion you were showing. Regardless he slowly patted you on the back.

“You’re gonna leave tear stains on my shirt.” He chuckled lightly.

“This is the most thoughtful and considerate thing anyone has ever done for me.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty fucking amazing.” His heart was soaring and as much as he willed it to calm down it wouldn’t. “But there’s something else in there too.” This made the Losers curious. They’d all agreed on one gift under a certain price range since none of their jobs paid well enough to splurge. “Here let me just,” you released Richie from the hug wiping away your tears as you watched him fumble in his pocket, “Here.” It was a small locket that looked handmade. It was a small circle the size of a nickel. “It opens.” Sniffling, you opened the locket. Inside was a small picture of all the losers, including Beverly, at the Quarry 3 years ago. You chuckled, all of you were near naked and freezing from just having taken a dip yet the smiles were bright.

“Since when were you this thoughtful?” The book was clutched to your chest, your eyes still wet from the shed tears. Richie shrugged smiling softly.

“Happy Birthday, Stiff.”

Hey (Y/N)!” Bill purposefully said loudly. “Do y-you think w-w-w-we could talk now?”

“Yes, would you like to go somewhere more private?” The book hadn’t left your hands since Richie gave it to you. It was the only piece of your mom you had since she passed. Richie’s eyes couldn’t have gotten any bigger behind his.

“Y-yes that would-be c-c-cool.” Bill was starting to panic. What was he going to say to you once he got you alone? Why wasn’t Richie moving faster? He should have already admitted his feelings. Bill shot Mike a look that screamed do something.

“I wonder what those two are going to do once they’re all alone. Hope they use protection.” Mike nudged Stan. The words tasted weird and foreign on his lips but since he was supposed to have been the most mature he knew Richie would happily take the bait.

“Fuck it.” Richie slammed his glass cup down causing everyone, including yourself, to stop whatever they were doing and look at him. “yep, fuck it.” He walked quickly over to you and didn’t give himself a chance to wonder before he slammed his lips on yours. You were unresponsive at first. Standing there with a wild expression of confusion but after a few moments you began to ease into it. When Richie pulled away you were both breathing. “Look I don’t know what the fuck’s going on because I don’t know a fucking thing about feelings. All I know is you’re annoying, bossy, fucking weird and controlling. You can be the biggest bitch on the earth but you’re also damn hot and you care a fuck ton about your friends. You make my palms sweaty and nasty like I’m fucking Stan.” A soft hey was shouted in the background, “My stomach does this weird flipping shit that makes me feel like I’m going to hurl, and I’m always trying really hard to impress you because I give a damn about your opinion. I know we’re from 2 different fucking worlds and everything, but I think you’re beautiful and,” The entire room was too silent for Richie’s liking. “Okay? Right, okay, um.” He paused gauging your confused expression. “I think I like you. What do you think?” You kissed him again, smiling into it. You’d waited so long to find out if Richie felt the same way about you and had half expected to never find out. This was an even greater birthday present.

“I think you need your mouth washed out with soap.” You smiled at him. “That’s no way to talk with a lady present.” Richie laughed looking down at you.

“Is that a yes? To whatever this is.”

“That’s a yes.” Richie punched the air and the losers cheered behind him.

“Sorry, I got there first Bill. Gotta be quicker.” The cheers calmed down and was instead replaced by wild laughter. This caused Richie to look confused.

“Dude, he doesn’t actually like (Y/N).” Ben interrupted.

“Yeah we set you up. Tried to make you jealous so you would realize your own feelings.” Mike smiled victoriously.

“She’s l-l-like a si-sister to me.”

“You guys fucking suck.” Richie tried to appear angry but he was happy his friends brought his feelings to light. Even if he still had things to figure out.

“And you are fucking welcome.” Eddie laughed. You turned away from the boys jogging up the stairs 2 at a time. “Where are you going birthday girl?”

“To get the soap for your dirty mouths!”

After Pennywise, things had seemed like they would always be bleak. But now, you had a boyfriend, and an amazing group of friends. So just maybe, everything would be okay.

[creativitymouth]

THIS IS AMAZING AHHHHHHHHHH

❤️💕❣️💘💖💗💓💞💝 I HIT 1K FOLLOWERS THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH ILY ❤️💕❣️💘💖💗💓💞💝

does anyone have any suggestions on what i should do to celebrate?

[creativitymouth]

Hey can I make a Spotify playlist for twftwf and send it to you after?

OH YES I WOULD LOVE THIS THIS IS AMAZING WTF

[creativitymouth]

😭 I came at your usual posting time for twfbtwf but then remembered the series is over 😭

Don’t worry, New Stories coming today or tomorrow. I’m working on some requests and a new series following Eddie Kaspbrak.