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yourprayer · 5 years
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POP CULTURE 
chapter 10 - five times richie wanted to kiss eddie and one time eddie beat him to it
soundtrack
+theme song for “the one time”
“He dreamt about kissing Eddie. Loving him. Holding him. Never hiding away. Escaping the fog. He wanted all of those things. His diploma should’ve stated only that, because for all his life that’s all he’d learned. He thought maybe then he’d be Eddie brave.“
+tw mild body horror, cannon-typical violence, mentions of vomiting, swearing, substance use, cannon-typical child abuse (neglect)
@mythgirl96 @crackhousetozier @reddieaddict @wincestklaine @beepbeep-losers @ayyyymichele @tapetayloe @ghostbustermike @i-is-gazebo @reddiesetrichie @wyttolff @gayzier @kaspbrak-is-our-king @mikedenbrough @28shoes @kinghanscom @eddiecare @shadysandi @reddieforlove @beepbeepdickie @stellarbisexual @reddielibrary
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yourprayer · 5 years
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if u squint hard enough the new chapter is out 🤷🏻‍♀️
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yourprayer · 6 years
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pop culture chapter 8
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“Adulthood in a town like Derry is even worse than childhood. The listless, empty ramblings of days dragging on in a town that felt like one-size-too-small-shoes sat heavier on the recently graduated than the younger children. Before you were eighteen and responsible for your own lunch money, you could spend your interminable afternoons exploring the surrounding environment, friends of friends abound. Escaping to the arcade and seeing the same films six times at the same theater was an acceptable amount of nothing to do at twelve years old. But when nineteen years hit Bill Denbrough and college acceptance letters didn’t, the sudden, overwhelming, nothingness of Nowhere, Maine became too heavy to bear.”
chapter 8 (wc: 4k)
chapter list here
read it on ao3
want on the taglist?
“Someone’s knockin at yer back door, Stanny.”
“Couldn’t kill you to answer it?”
“Not my house.”
“Well you’re not getting any of my pizza, then.” Stan griped as he marked his place and set down his novel before crossing the room.
“Wait, you ordered pizza?!” Richie extracted himself from his position on Stan’s bed, where he had been reading comics upside down.
“You’d know if you got the door.” Stan called over his shoulder as he descended the stairs. Another knock rang through the empty house.
“Coming dear!” Richie yelled with a ridiculous trill as he attempted to slide down the bannister.
“Don’t break yourself. I don’t want your blood on my carpet.” Stan yanked Richie’s sleeve, returning the wily boy to his feet.
“Buzzkill.” Richie muttered, crossing his arms as he followed Stan sullenly.
“Reason you’re still alive?” Stan quirked an eyebrow, walking backwards with a finger pointed at himself.
“Touche, douche.” Richie rhymed under his breath as they crossed the kitchen.
“Heard that.” Stan commented as he opened the door.
“Hey.”
Stanley and Richie’s eyes went comically wide as they took in the sight on Stan’s back doorstep. Before them stood a disheveled Mike and Eddie, both sweaty and breathing like they’d ran all the way there. Eddie was holding the collar of his shirt to split and bleeding skin of his chin, droplets of the blood escaping and dripping down his neck, leaving dried trails like lay lines. Mike was smiling almost apologetically, like he was sorry to have stopped by.
“Got a first aid kit?” Mike broke the silence, smile almost manic as he joked.
“What the fuck happened?!” Stan inquired, pulling Mike in the room and out of the way before Richie practically launched himself at Eddie, who he promptly shoved over to the sink so he could begin cleaning his wound.
“It’s a pretty, uh, funny story actually.” Mike said with a strange, nervous laugh. Stan studied him crossly between cupboards he opened in search of some bandages. “Mind if I have a glass of water?”
“Go ahead.” Stan replied warily, watching Mike grab a cup out of the cabinet to his left with trembling hands. Richie moved Eddie away from the sink as Mike came over, meeting Stan at the kitchen island and grabbing the box of band-aids he’d successfully scavenged. Mike drank three full glasses while Richie diligently attended to Eddie’s chin. Stan and Eddie caught each other’s gazes just once, and at Stan’s questioning eyebrow Eddie only shook his head. Stan waited a moment more before starting in on Mike again. “You gonna tell this funny story?”
“It’s a real doozy.” Mike braced his hands on the sink, back facing the others.
“I think I can handle it.”
Mike took a deep breath before turning.
“You want the long or the short of it?”
“Dealer’s choice.”
“I think I just controlled fire with my mind.”
Richie dropped the bandage he was opening.
“Holy shit.”
“Yeah. That’s the short.”
“Does the long explain this?” Richie pointed at Eddie’s band-aid clad chin.
“If I tell you it involves Hockstetter and Belch, does that answer your question?”
“Shit. Yeah.” Richie adjusted his glasses reverently, eyes downcast as his mind easily grasped the general specifics.
“So you what, turned his flamethrower contraption off?” Stan crossed his arms and leaned against the pantry.
“More like turned it around.” Mike paused to drink more water. “It didn’t burn me.”
“It touched you?” Mike nodded. “And it didn’t burn.” Another nod. “And you’re sure it was real fire.” Richie continued incredulously.
“It was. A whole lot of it. And it couldn’t touch me.”
“Bullshit.” Richie said with awe.
“You literally turned invisible a couple days ago.” Stan glared at Richie.
“Yeah, but- that’s nuts!”
“More nuts than your thing?”
Richie qualmed. “No…”
“So shush. Let the man continue.”
“That’s pretty much all there is to it.” Mike shrugged. “I guess fire can’t burn me anymore.”
“Let’s test it.” Richie pulled a lighter out of his jean pocket. “Experimentation.”
Mike spoke at the same time as Stan, his acquiescence overlapping Stanley’s protests.
“It’s fine, Stan.” Mike repeated, stepping over to Richie with an outstretched arm.
“What if it was just a fluke?” Stan folded his hands in concern.
“It’s just a tiny little Bic, what can it do?” Mike said casually as Richie flicked on the flame.
“You sure?” Richie asked, lighter in one hand and Mike’s arm in the other.
“Go right ahead.”
Richie watched Mike’s face with pinched eyebrows, disbelief and uncertainty on his face. He titled the flame to touch skin, eyes going wide as Mike did not flinch.
“Nothing?” Richie pressed the flame into Mike’s skin, which was not burning or bubbling as all laws of physics deemed it should.
“It feels like hot wax, but not super hot wax.” Mike took another sip of his water with his free hand.
“Are you the wax in this equation?” Richie questioned as he moved the flame up and down the length of Mike’s forearm.
“I think so?”
“Fucking hell.” Richie sighed as he let go of the trigger, pocketing the lighter once more. “Of course you get a useful power.” He complained as he stuffed his hands in his pockets.
“The fuck do you mean?”
“I mean that’s what this whole thing is, right? We’re all getting superpowers or something! And I get this bullshit where some of my organs go see-through, and it hurts like a bitch, mind you, and you get to be fire-retardant! Stan can fuckin’, I don’t know, levitate things, which is helpful-”
Stan and Mike spoke over each other again.
“Stan can what?”
“You’ve been reading too many comic books.”
Stan looked guilty after he realized what Mike had said over his comment.
“Oh. Uh, yeah. Last night. My book was floating.”
“That’s it?”
“I made it fly into the ceiling.”
“Did it stay there?”
“No, it fell.”
“Who cares if it stayed up there? Point is Stanley actually gets something that doesn’t suck-”
“Eddie, you’ve been weirdly quiet. Are you okay?” Stan interrupted Richie’s rant, desperately wanting to shift the subject away from himself. Eddie blanched at the sudden question, shuffling his weight awkwardly on his feet. He thought for a moment about saying something, but settled on a shake of his head. “What’s up?” Stan pressed.
“I’m with Richie.” Eddie said after a moment, voice unsure. Richie definitely didn’t dig his nails into his legs from where his hands were clenched in his pockets in response to the thoughts Eddie saying the phrase I’m with Richie conjured. “I got dealt a really shitty hand.”
Richie swallowed, wishing away the heat in his cheeks. “How so?”
“You know how so!” Eddie went from reserved and shaken to bitterness teetering on the edge of rage in a matter of seconds. “The only ‘power’ I got is being scared so shitless I can’t even fucking move every time something goes wrong!”
“Eds.” Richie pleaded softly, hoping to head off the explosion he knew was coming.
“You should have seen me today, Richie. I was fucking useless. Mike was about to get barbequed and I just fucking laid there!”
“Belch was holding you down Eddie, he had his boot in your back-” Mike protested.
“Wait, Belch had his boot in your back? That son of a-”
“The point is that I’m useless now! Who am I if I can’t protect my friends?!”
“Eds, you are not useless-”
“Richie’s right, Eddie-”
“You don’t get it, Stan-”
“Eddie, I don’t think you have a super power.” Mike said firmly, breaking through the chaos of everyone’s voices overlapping.
“Excuse me?” Eddie blinked at him.
“I don’t think you have a ‘super power’.” Mike air quoted, glancing at Richie. “I think you have a panic disorder.”
“Mike.” Richie warned quietly, almost subconsciously raising a hand as if to placate a wild animal. Stan stared at him shocked, genuine surprise and fear overtaking him as he worried over the results of the statement.
Eddie went white, his whole body eerily stilling. His eyes started out laser-focused on Mike’s face but began to dart around the room. He tried to form words, his brain working in overdrive as he scrambled over a response. To Richie it looked like he’d short-circuited.
“I- you- how dare-”
“Eddie, I’m not trying to offend you-”
“How dare you, Michael.” Eddie spat. “You have got to be fucking kidding me right now.”
“I’m not.” Mike stood his ground.
“If I wanted someone to stand here and list a bunch of fake illnesses I don’t have, I’d be at home!” Eddie nearly screamed. Stan clasped a hand over his mouth. Richie swallowed again before laughing nervously with the teasing, though-”
“Shut UP Richard. I’m not fucking around.” Eddie rounded on Mike again. “I can’t believe you, one of my best friends treating me like my fucking mother, trying to find some fucking disease you can blame me on-”
“I am not acting like your mother, Eddie.” Mike yelled back, surprising Stan and Richie with his intensity.
“You know what hurts the most about it?” Eddie pushed on, apparently unaffected by the bite back. “What really gets me about being told I’m sick all the time? She says my behavior is what makes me sick, the things I do or like or say. It’s not my temperature or my complexion or whether or not I throw up, it’s my fucking personality! To her, I’m the disease! And I thought you of all people would see me differently. But it’s clear now you don’t. I’m something you want to cure too.”
“Eddie-” Mike protested feebly, shocked beyond belief.
“I am sorry I was such a useless pile of shit today.” Eddie said through angry tears forming in his eyes. “I feel terrible about how I acted. But you don’t have to be so vicious about it. You don’t have to treat me like a germ.”
With that, Eddie was turning on a heel and leaving, storming out of Stan’s back door as the other’s scrambled after him, Richie yelling for him to come back.
“Let him go.” Mike said calmly, a hand on Richie’s shoulder as the three stood in the doorway. They watched Eddie storm out of the garden, the brand new and almost frighteningly large cactus plant near the door escaping their notice.
______________________________________________________________
“I’m the world’s worst boyfriend.”
“Oh come on, Ben.”
“No, I really am. I mean, absolute shit.”
“Th-there are p-p-plenty worse boyfr-friends than you out there.” Bill clapped a hand on Ben’s shoulder, smiling at the sight of Ben idly fretting.
“What kind of asshole waits until a week before an anniversary before they even start thinking about a gift?” Ben put his head in his hands, soda and fries forgotten on the bench next to him. He and Bill were on one of their regular excursions to the downtown district of Derry, where they would both get a coke and fries to be eaten as they walked around and windowshopped for all the things they couldn’t afford.
“S-some people forget the d-day entirely.” Bill pointed out, popping a french fry into his mouth. “I did.”
Ben looked up at him incredulously. “You forgot yours and Bev’s anniversary?”
“She b-broke up with me for a reason.” He joked, taking a drink of his soda. Ben laughed at his casual admission.
“No offense, but I’m glad the bars not so high.” Ben said through giggles.
Bill snorted. “Wh-what bar?” The two broke into fits of laughter, trying their best to contain themselves in public.
“Well, shit.” Ben leaned back, picking up his styrofoam cup of cola and taking a sip. “Guess I’ve only gotta do something mildly impressive.”
“What k-kind of gift are you th-thinking?” Bill tucked a leg under the other as he ate more of his fries.
“It’s cliche as shit, but I was thinking jewelry.” Ben scratched the back of his neck. “I mean, it is only our six-month, but still…” Ben trailed off, Bill watching him intently as he continued to eat. “I’m really fucking serious about her. I wanna get something that says I am.”
“Jewelry is good, then.” Bill said seriously.
“What do you think she would like?” Ben asked, vulnerability and desperation clear in his eyes as he locked them with Bill’s.
“C-can’t go w-w-wrong with a n-necklace.” Bill took another drink.
“Yeah…” Ben sighed, contemplatively taking a bite of one of his fries. “That doesn’t feel like… special enough though.” He finished the fry. “I feel like it should be something, I don’t know, more. She deserves it.”
“Yeah she does.” Bill agreed sincerely as he took another drink. The boys sat in silence for a few moments, watching Derry townfolk shuffle around on their nameless errands.
“Would it be the most embarrassing thing in the world to get her a promise ring?” Ben said after the silence had stretched too far. Bill shook his head, swallowing the fry he was on.
“Nu-uh. I think sh-she’d love that.”
“Really?” Ben asked nervously.
“Sh-she told me sh-she did s-s-so, yeah.” Bill grinned.
“Oh. I didn’t know you guys talked about…” Ben fiddled with his fingers nervously.
“Y-you guys?” Bill supplied. “B-b-bev and I are still fr-friends, Ben. We talk ab-bout all kinds of stuff.”
“I just didn’t think you’d want to hear about it.” Ben looked at his feet. “I wouldn’t want to if I were you.”
Bill was silent for a beat, thinking. “You l-liked her when we w-were dating, d-d-didn’t you.”
“Yeah.” Ben admitted after a breath. “I’ve liked her since we first met.”
“Th-then you really should get th-that ring.” Bill ate his last fry, wiping the grease from his fingers on the corner of his flannel. Ben watched Bill nervously, almost as if he were afraid he’d angered him. “You kn-know I’m not huh-hurt over you g-g-guys dating.”
“You’re not?”
“No. B-bev and I have always b-b-been better off as fr-friends. You guys were suh-supposed to be tog-gether.” Ben’s jaw dropped slightly at the statement as Bill stood up from the bench, garbage clasped in one hand.
“Bill, it really means a lot to hear you say that.” Ben admitted as he stood as well.
“Sh-shoulda said it s-s-sooner. It’s always b-b-been true.” Bill shrugged, looking up and down the street at the row of stores. His eyes landed on a pawn shop nestled at the end of the block. “Now c-c-c’mon. Let’s go g-get your girlfriend a pr-promise ring.”
______________________________________________________________
“Well that sure was swell, Mikey.” Richie commented bitterly as he paced the Uris living room, a slice of pepperoni pizza in each hand. He had been alternating between the two, taking an angry bite out of one, then the other, then back again. These are technically his third and fourth slices, Stan thought after a brief glance at the pizza box.
“Richie, don’t get pissy with me. If you’re worried about him, go take it up with Eddie.” Mike tore off the end of his breadstick and ate it.
“You’re the one who pissed him off.” Richie took a bite from the left slice, speaking before swallowing. “You should apologize.”
“For what? Looking out for his best interests? And you should chew with your mouth closed. God, what are you, five?” Mike grumbled before finishing off his breadstick.
“Je-sus, Micycle. Bee in your bonnet?” Richie teased, proceeding to take a bite out of the right slice.
“Forgive me if I’m not in the mood, Tozier.” Mike glared at him.
“Would you two cut it out?” Stan cut in, depositing his pizza crust in the lid of the box. “If you’re gonna keep bickering like this, I’m gonna kick you out.”
“On what grounds?” Richie squinted at him.
“The ‘no-whiny-assholes’ clause.” Stan returned the look as he went for another slice.
“Sorry.” Mike mumbled as he grabbed another breadstick.
“I will not yield.” Richie said with a stubborn flourish, polishing off the left slice. Stan rolled his eyes as he shook his head.
“Of course you don’t. Mike, do you think we should have another meeting and tell the rest about what happened?”
Mike looked contemplatively at the carpet. “I’m not opposed to it, but don’t we have a movie night in a couple of days?”
“We could wait till then if you want.”
“That’s probably best. Oh, and Ben got those pictures developed. He’ll probably want us all to take a look at them.”
“What for?” Richie muttered to himself, finishing the crust of the right slice, his now pizza-less hands he wiped off on his jeans. “Said it yourself, won’t do any good.”
“Ben’s peace of mind will probably appreciate it.” Mike quipped. “Besides, he was gonna give a bunch to you.”
Richie folded his arms and turned to look at Mike, who even while sitting on the floor with Stan, still seemed tall, immovable.
“You shouldn’t have said that to Eddie.”
“I’m not wrong.” Mike rebutted, unphased by the quick turn of subject.
“That doesn’t matter. You know he hates being told he’s got something wrong with him.”
“I never said having a panic disorder is wrong.”
“Doesn’t mean he’s not going to jump to that conclusion.”
“That’s on him.”
“You hurt his feelings, Mike!”
“I was being honest!”
“That’s not always what Eddie wants.” Stan cut in. “We’ve been friends with him for a long time, Mike. He’s always preferred easy lies over hard truths.”
“It’s how he was raised.” Richie muttered under his breath as he fiddled with the carpet with his bare toes.
“So you baby him and tell him what he wants to hear? How is that any better than his home life?”
Richie and Stan remained silent.
“I’m not going to patronize him. I know he hates that shit even more. I’m going to be honest with him because he’s my friend and he deserves that, even if it makes him angry.”
“That’s fair.” Richie aquiesced after a beat. “But he’s still gonna be pissy with you if you don’t apologize. And he probably won’t listen to your reasoning if he doesn’t like your accusation.”
“He’ll come around.”
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Ben arrived home a little later than usual, pocket heavy with the weight of what he’d decided to do that evening. His whole demeanor was effected by the choice, his smile giddy as he unlocked the door. His mother was waiting with freshly reheated dinner, a telltale sign she was near the end of a pay period. The sight of the cheap, frozen meals steaming in their plastic wrap on the table made Ben feel a little sick, and abruptly wish he hadn’t just spent so much of his money. It was supposed to help with groceries you idiot, Ben chastized himself.
“Hey sweetie. Dinner’s on the table.” His mother greeted as she entered the room, smiling at Ben as he shed his shoes.
“I saw, looks delicious, thank you.” Despite his reservations about the situation, Ben would not refuse a meal from his mother, no matter the context. He knew he should sometimes, knew her constant over feeding was an almost exclusive reason for his issues with weight as a young man. But he was also aware it was one of her ways for making up for his father’s absence. She used food to show her love, and if he said he wasn’t hungry, she took it as rejection. Ben may not always be hungry, but God did he constantly love his mother. So frozen dinners it is.
“You look particularly at peace this evening, Benny.” His mother commented as she crossed to the sink and began washing her hands. “Anything exciting happen today?”
Ben smiled shyly to himself as he got a glass and poured some juice from the fridge. “Uh, yeah actually.” He leaned over and set his cup down at his seat, then raised the jug of juice so his mother could see. “Want a glass?”
“Sure, thanks. Tell me about this excitement!” She pressed, drying her hands before sitting down.
“So, remember how I told you Bev and I’s anniversary is next week?” Ben couldn’t keep the smile off his face as he returned the juice to the fridge. “I got her gift today.” He beamed at his mother as he handed her her cup and sat down.
She returned his grin. “What’d you get her?”
Ben looked around conspiratorially, preening when it made his mother laugh. They loved to joke that others might be around, that things must be secret, ever since Ben was a child and loved playing spies. When he deemed the coast was clear, he pulled the small ring box out of his pocket.
“I got her this promise ring.” Ben said as reverently as he held it out under the light. His mother took it in hand, regarding the ring in awe.
“Oh Benny, this is gorgeous.” She breathed.
“Think she’ll like it?” His tone betrayed his nervousness. “Bill helped me pick it out, I was so unsure.”
“Honey, she’ll love it.” She smiled and returned the box to him. “It’s perfect.”
“I sure hope so.” He pocketed the ring box and picked up his fork, using it to tear back the plastic wrap over his food.
“Sorry it’s not plated, I wasn’t sure how late you’d be and I wanted it to stay warm.” His mother said as she took a drink.
“Oh no mom, this is fine. I don’t mind a bit.” Ben shook his head.
“Oh, and speaking of miss Beverly, she left a voicemail for you a little while ago.” She added, cutting into her meatloaf.
“Thanks, I’ll listen to it after dinner.”
They ate in silence for a bit before she spoke again.
“I like that girl, Benny. I like her a lot. Think someday you’ll put a real ring on that finger?”
Ben smiled down at his food.
“I sure hope so.”
______________________________________________________________
“Georgie, can you get the door for us?”
“Sure momma.” Georgie Denbrough responded with a smile as he jumped down from his makeshift vegetable cutting station. His brother, who was tenderizing meat next to him smiled as he watched his brother happily run off.
The doorbell rang again as Georgie rounded the corner. “Coming!” He called sweetly, beaming as he reached the door. He pulled it open easily with his one arm.
“Oh- hi Georgie.”
Georgie squinted at the sight before him, happy but perplexed. Eddie Kaspbrak was on his doorstep, which he was excited about, because Eddie was his friend and he loved seeing him. But Eddie also looked hurt, his chin covered in bandaids and spots of dried blood on his yellow tee shirt.
“Hi Eddie.” Georgie kept his smile plastered on his face, reminding himself of what his mother always tells him; don’t ask people invasive questions, Georgie.
“Is your brother home?” Eddie asked nervously, wringing his hands on the bottom of his shirt.
“Yeah, he’s in the kitchen.” Georgie gestured across his body, jerking towards the kitchen with a thumb. “Are you staying for dinner?”
Eddie gave a short, airy laugh. “I’ll have to ask. Can I talk to him?”
“Billy!” Georgie suddenly switched to his outside voice. “Eddie’s here!”
Eddie gave Georgie a slightly surprised expression, impressed by the kid’s volume. A moment later Bill arrived in the doorway, chiding Georgie about yelling in the house. He stopped abruptly as he caught sight of Eddie in the doorway.
“Ed-eddie.” He crinkled his brow. “You alright?”
“Uh, sorta. I’m- can uh, can I stay over tonight?”
“Yeah, of course. W-we’re just making-”
“Dinner, yeah, I’ll help.” Eddie scurried into the house, not bothering to give Bill a chance to finish the thought. The boys shared a look as they left the doorway, its meaning indecipherable to Georgie. He huffed to himself, feeling a bit angry about once again being left out of things, and went to close the door. He stopped his motion at the sight of the edges of their front garden, his gaze on the bushes that came up to the side of the doorstep. The small yellow flowers that usually bloomed on its stems in spring were opening up, unfurling at an unnatural speed, leaving the bush covered in fresh blossoms before it stopped. Georgie watched with wide eyes, confounded by the sight before him.
Momma’s right, he thought as he finally willed himself to close the door. I’ve been watching too many cartoons.
______________________________________________________________
authors notes: sorry this took forever to come out! i told myself i’d put it up on wednesday. i did not accomplish that lmao. anyways he’res another installment, things are really starting to pick up! in the pop culture universe georgie has one arm; the denbroughs were in an accident when the boys were young, where georgie lost his arm and bill sustained the brain damage that causes his stutter. also no one is more of a benverly cheerleader than bill. 
tagslist: @s-s-stutteringbill @gazeboseddie @misssiriusblack @mythgirl96 @crackhousetozier @reddieaddict @wincestklaine @beepbeep-losers @ayyyymichele @megelizabethvh @tapetayloe @flickerflies @ghostbustermike @i-is-gazebo @reddiesetrichie @wyttolff @gayzier @kaspbrak-is-our-king @mikedenbrough @28shoes @nicoperryy @kinghanscom @eddiecare @shadysandi @fyeahreddie @reddieforlove
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yourprayer · 6 years
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reddie for number 9!!!!! ily
here u go anon! sorry this took awhile, u gave me the most challenging request out of the ones in my inbox, but i love a good challenge! have some tooth rotting fluff.
#9- baking cookies
this one is part of the pop culture universe!!
______________________________________________________________
Eddie didn’t think it was possible he’d ever been more impressed by a sound effect. But as he stood stirring a bowl full of cookie dough in the Tozier’s kitchen watching Richie bop his head and imitate the synthesizer effects in the opening of Styx’s Too Much Time On My Hands, he was baffled by Richie’s ability to mimic the noises perfectly. His motions became less specific and sloppy as he just observed, smile growing as the song continued. As the singer began the verse Richie jumped in, singing poorly under his breath.
For the whole time he’d known the boy, Eddie had never found Richie to be a particularly good singer. He was pitchy, lacked flourish, sometimes missed beats. But what he never lacked was confidence. Richie knew all the words to any song you could think of, knew of every band and every album. He loved singing too, even on days when Stan would yell at him from the driver’s seat to ‘stop your damn caterwauling!’. He just sang, all the time, at any instance, music constantly filling his head even if it didn’t fill his ears. Under his breath, belting, both sides of the duets, anything. He just couldn’t help but feel it out.
Eddie didn’t like to get caught thinking ridiculously sappy thoughts, but if someone had a telepathic tap into his mind, they’d see how fond he was of the sight.
“Pass the flour?” Richie called over his shoulder at a break in the song. Eddie scrambled around for a moment, trying to locate the sack amidst the mess they’d made of the kitchen counter.
“You didn’t coat the rolling pin, did you.” Eddie said cheekily as he came up behind Richie with the bag.
“Shush.” Richie grabbed a pinch of flour out of the bag without breaking his concentration from the task in front of him, booping Eddie’s nose with a flour covered finger surprisingly accurately for not looking at the other boys face.
“Richie!” Eddie sputtered as he swiped at the flour, blinking rapidly and hoping none got in his eyes.
“Don’t sass me, Edward. I’m working.”
“Fuck off, it’s cookies. It’s not that hard.” Eddie pouted as he ran over to the sink for a wet washcloth. “The hell are you doing over there anyways? I’m already almost ready with the next batch.” He swiped the washcloth over his face, removing the debris.
“I’m working.” Richie sassed, returning to his light singing as he continued fussing with the cookies in front of him.
“You’re taking it way too seriously.” Eddie shook his head with a laugh as he crossed back over. “What are you working on doing to them anyway?” He peered over Richie’s shoulder, prepared to fire off another joke, but was shocked to see an array of delicately shaped lumps of dough, each a different kind of bird, looking up at him from the baking sheet. “Holy shit, Richie.” Eddie said with awe as he wrapped an arm around Richie’s middle. He shushed the part of his brain screaming “YES! I GET TO DO THAT NOW!” so he could hear Richie speak.
“Birds for Staniel. He’s gonna love em.”
“I had no idea you could do this, Rich. These are amazing.”
“I didn’t either. I just kinda went for it, ya know?” Richie turned to Eddie with a smile then, completing the beak on the final bird on the sheet. His hands were covered with a thin layer of flour, which he’d been using to maneuver the stickiest parts. Eddie couldn’t find it in him to complain about dirty hands as they came to rest on his shoulders. The song changed to The Cars’ You Might Think, just as Richie dropped a light kiss on Eddie’s forehead. “Now grab me that other cookie sheet and the dough you just made, I got more birds to birth.”
“Birth?” Eddie gave him a flat glare, laughing bluntly at the word choice as he gathered the requested supplies.
“I am their mother, bringing them into the world.” Richie countered with a dramatic flourish as he plucked the sheet out of Eddie’s hand and replaced it with the other with a jaunty turn to the music.
“That’s.. Not how that works.” Eddie shook his head with a laugh as he popped the finished ones into the oven, setting the timer. “But okay.” Richie just laughed lightly, returning to his task as he scooped a lump of dough out with his hands. Eddie closed the oven all the way and returned to Richie’s side of the counter, wrapping both of his arms around Richie’s middle in a hug from behind. He rested his head on Richie’s back as Richie continued to sing, to both the words and the twinkling sound effects between verses. Eddie smiled, hoping Richie could feel the smile through the fabric of his shirt.
Richie didn’t hit notes perfectly, or bake the best cookies. (While visually impressive, his birds turned out quite hard and unpalatable when they were served at Stan’s birthday party later that week.) His jokes were off-color and more often than not at the expense of Eddie or his mother, and he couldn’t dance for shit. But to Eddie the most loveable thing about the lanky boy was his attitude. I just went for it, ya know?
Eddie loved Richie the most because he went for things. Because he had the confidence and the bravery to jump into anything, no matter his prior capability or knowledge. He made Eddie want to do the same.
So he did.
Muffled, with a smile pressed to Richie’s back, he told him just how much he loved him.
Without hesitation, Richie said “I love you” right back.
______________________________________________________________
tagslist: @s-s-stutteringbill @gazeboseddie @misssiriusblack @mythgirl96 @crackhousetozier @reddieaddict @wincestklaine @beepbeep-losers @ayyyymichele @megelizabethvh @tapetayloe @flickerflies @ghostbustermike @i-is-gazebo @reddiesetrichie  @wyttolff @gayzier @kaspbrak-is-our-king @mikedenbrough @28shoes @nicoperryy @kinghanscom @eddiecare @shadysandi @fyeahreddie @reddieforlove
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yourprayer · 6 years
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reddie in popcultureverse!!! pls I need
HANNAH IM LIVING THANK YOU
popcultureverse reddie is truly my pride and joy
who wakes up first in the morning - you’d think it’d be eddie bc richie is a loaf but it’s richie. his favorite time of day is when its way too early to be up but he’s awake for no reason, the sunrise is illuminating the room with soft light and eddie is sound asleep next to/on top of him
who’s the first to fall asleep at night - richie for sure. he passes out with comic books on his chest, shoes still on, the losers still partying around him, you name it. richie is one sleepy boy.
what they playfully tease each other over - every single little tiny thing all the time ever and its so annoying. to everyone. 
what they do when the other’s having a bad day - eddie tries to make richie feel needed & paid attention to when he’s really struggling (esp with his power!) richie is a very physical affection type person so if somethings up with eddie he just wants to envelop him with hugs and blankets but never rlly knows what to say
how they say ‘i’m sorry’ after arguments - they don’t. it’s their biggest struggle in their relationship. they fight hard and instead of apologizing they don’t see each other for a day or so and then when they do they pretend like it never happened.
which one’s more ticklish - eddie. BUT- if he gets ahold of richie’s feet and tickles him there first he can win. but if richie gets him on his sides its all over, eddie’s down
their favourite rainy day activities - being couch potatoes. the tv is often on but they actually like to lay on each other and read, so it’s mostly just background noise.
how they surprise each other - little trinkets & pictures are their big way of trying to constantly surprise each other. richie takes sneaky pics and does the best he can do to catch eddie off guard and get either really cute or really goofy pics to add to his picture wall. eddie likes to collect little things from all around (rocks, bottle caps, lost items, little things from second hand stores) and gives things to richie and says “this reminded me of u” and richie is SOFT
their most sickening shows of public affection - once they fully get together & define their relationship & come out to the losers its OVER FOR THOSE HOES. its a goddamn mess like i stg i have some Plans abt their goddamn pda. probably the most Extra thing they do that i have planned is going to a halloween party at some rando in derry’s house and grinding in front of everyone to this song
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yourprayer · 6 years
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Pop Culture owns my entire heart!! Idk if you’ve answered this before but do you have explanations as to why you chose the powers you did for the losers? :)
i haven’t and you have no idea how excited i am to answer this (:
this post contains spoilers about the direction of pop culture so if u don’t wanna know don’t read this!!!!! 
+im tagging everyone on the pop culture tagslist just in case they do wanna see this and get this good info! 
okay so basically the theme i have running is that all of their powers are based in their fears, basically my weird take on the pennywise/fear based concepts of the story. there’s no pennywise in the pop culture universe, but i did really want to play around with the loser’s fears and insecurities because they’re very interesting story plots and i love studying these characters! some of them are more straightforward than others but yeah here’s the rundown;
richie - richie develops the power to turn himself invisible at will, at first with excruciating pain but over time that goes away as he gains control. i chose this power for richie because in my opinion of his characterization his greatest fear is becoming invisible, having everyone forget or not see him. he struggles endlessly with feeling ignored or unnoticed; now he can become exactly that. his secondary power is going to be astral projection. this stems from, in my characterization of him, a constant fear of being unable to be where he’s needed. i think for someone like richie it’s hard to not be there for his friends, hard to be kept away from helping someone. his projections help him be there to witness, but not to act, which to him is a little worse.
mike - mike has pyrokinesis. it’s an easy conclusion to say it stems from his fear of fire, as his family died in a fire, but in the pop culture universe it was not his parents that died, but instead it was his grandfather, and it was from a fire that mike accidentally set. he blames himself for what happened, and fears the lack of control he has over fire and over other things. coming to terms with his power is very hard for him because he sees it as a curse he deserves. 
stan - stan develops telekinesis, which is a direct manifestation of his mind power. stan is definitively the loser with the most intuition out of the group and an incredibly sharp person, but because of this he is also more acutely aware than he wants to be of the world around him and some of the shittier things it contains. it’s also an homage to the theory that stephen king wrote the losers as possibly possessing the powers of the shining.(i know matpat’s kind of annoying but tbh this video changed my life and i firmly adhere to it’s logic.) i chose telekinesis over telepathy because i wanted to lmao.
ben - ben becomes a weather manipulator, in a way that’s directly tied to his emotions. the biggest things i got out of reading ben’s sections in the book were that he was pretty devastated by his relationship with his father as a child, and that he had issues expressing his feelings in front of others. to me ben is a wonderful, kindhearted man who is always what others need him to be, but struggles immensely with being honest about what’s going on in his own heart. the idea that the weather changes as he feels makes him terrified because when people see the sky cloud over, they know exactly how he’s feeling, and he’s scared to be that open. the rapidly changing weather is also a reference to the fact that his childhood was so turbulent and things changed constantly.
bev - beverly is both clairvoyant and has psychic visions. she occasionally gets visions that are symbolic of experiences and powers the other kids are dealing with. they’re mostly for story purposes (foreshadowing and hints and whatnot) but are, as mentioned in a previous chapter, something she used to experience as a small child. i for one kind of believe these things can happen (i have a friend who’s family believed she was prophetic as a child and from what they’ve told me i think it’s true) so i included it. her clairvoyance is of a specific kind, basically she can touch people and see their thoughts/memories/intentions if she wants to. the first few times its on accident of course but once she learns control she can use it at free will. these were chosen because i believe bev approaches a lot of her trauma by burying it, and that being confronted with things prevalent from her childhood would deeply frighten her, like the sudden return of her visions. her clairvoyance upsets her because she frankly does not want to know what other people are thinking, since she spent so long in her childhood being told things like the line in the 2017 film “i know exactly what’s in those boys’ minds…” you all know what i’m gettin at.
eddie - eddie is able to manipulate plants/plant life and has extra sensory perception (esp). both are manifested mostly in plant life responding to his anger or distress, again tied to his emotions, and the esp is represented by a heightened sense of panic when danger is present. he can basically sense danger just before it’s supposed to happen, and his body gets a huge rush of adrenaline because of the sensation. this combined with his already heightened sense of general fear appears to most as an extreme panic disorder, which it basically is. there’s also a concept to do with bev’s vision in the newer chapter and the colors. when eddie has a sense that something is about to happen, it comes with a color that is tied to a person, so he knows who is in danger. all i’ll give away so far is that the bowers gang is red. this power upsets him because his biggest fear is his own fear, and the idea that it could get in the way of him being able to do anything when danger comes. the plant manipulation power is a representation of his need to grow, and his ingrained belief he’ll never be able to because of the stifling hands of his mother. he also kind of doesn’t want to grow, or face what comes with that.
bill - bill is a shapeshifter here, which is probably the power i’ll have the hardest time defending. it was largely chosen cause i thought it was cool lmao. but for bill its rooted in his desire to be the person everyone wants him to be, and the fact that that ideal person is constantly shifting and changing. georgie is alive in this au, and bill’s family life is a lot more whole. but bill feels an intense need to be strong for them, and the losers, and be the kind of man and leader they want. he is also struggling immensely with the transition from childhood to adulthood and what that means for his identity in the world. he feels himself so constantly shifting and changing out of distress and desire to be ‘the right thing’. 
the powers of the bowers gang are based on mutual fears of the group as a whole towards the bullies, and are as follows;
henry - the power to absorb energy (think kevin bacon in xmfc) because the losers all fear that any effort to overcome their suffering at his hands is futile
patrick - shadow manipulation because the losers all fear the shadowy places in life, knowing the bullies could be waiting anywhere
victor - teleportation, for a similar reason, that idea that the bullies can be anywhere and everywhere
belch - creating copies of himself (think multiple man) because to the losers it always seems like there’s just too fucking many of them 
(big thanks to hannah @reddiesetrichie  for being a great sounding board for the bullies powers, i rlly needed help picking those
anyways yeah thats the lowdown on who has what and why!!! thank u for letting me ramble about this and i hope it gets yall jazzed up for whats to come
tagslist: @s-s-stutteringbill @gazeboseddie @misssiriusblack @mythgirl96 @crackhousetozier @reddieaddict @wincestklaine @beepbeep-losers @ayyyymichele  @megelizabethvh @tapetayloe @flickerflies @ghostbustermike @i-is-gazebo @reddiesetrichie  @wyttolff @gayzier  @kaspbrak-is-our-king @mikedenbrough @28shoes @nicoperryy @kinghanscom @eddiecare @shadysandi @fyeahreddie
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yourprayer · 6 years
Note
20 with reddie PLS PLS pls
this one turned out v fluffy and cute i hope u enjoy sweet hannah
this one’s also a part of the pop culture universe!!
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The rain struggled to hold a steady pace as it beat against the side of the Denbrough household. It had been fluctuating for near twenty minutes now, and Stan could see through the small kitchen window the wide grin on Ben’s face as he surveyed his work. Rinsing his plate and putting it in the dishwasher, Stan then turned to leave, pride bubbling deep in his heart.
“I’m heading up, you guys.” Stan announced to the remaining two losers still huddled under blankets in the living room. Mike had gone upstairs to head to be the earliest, and Bill and Bev were outside cheering on Ben (and getting thoroughly drenched) as he practiced.
“Aw, really Stanley? There’s only like, twenty minutes left!” Richie protested, only his head visible from the mound of blankets on the couch.
“I’ve seen this movie a million times. I’m going to bed.” Stan yawned, more so to emphasize his point than because he needed to.
“Goodnight Stan.” Eddie’s head emerged from the fluffy pile, giving Stan a tired smile. It looked like he was minutes away from falling asleep himself.
“Night Eddie.” Stan returned the expression in kind, feeling more than a little sappy at the sight.
“Night, Stan.” Richie echoed in a somewhat exasperated tone, but not one that was a bit serious. Stan laughed to himself before the two shared a smirking glance, and with that, Stan headed up to crawl into Bill’s bed with Mike.
Richie spent a moment turning back to the tv, eyeing Eddie happily as he re-adjusted and got himself comfortable again. After a beat he yawned, his own exhaustion catching up with him. It had been a long day of practice, and his body was fatigued from all the effort his powers took. He unearthed the remote from where it had almost disappeared into the cushions and raised it to turn the TV volume down, sensing by the shift in Eddie’s breathing that he was pretty much out.
The volume hit it’s low, and for the first time in a long time, the lack of the sound gave Richie peace. Ben had, even for a moment, evened the pace of the rain, the steady soft pattering of it making Richie feel more relaxed than he’d probably ever been.
He was this close to falling asleep when a sudden booming crash of thunder woke him and Eddie.
“Sorry!” Ben’s weather-muffled yell sounded from outside the house, and the two began to laugh as the rain went back to its steady beat. Eddie stifled a yawn and got comfortable on Richie’s side again, hiking the blanket up to his chin. Richie dropped his head on top of Eddie’s, pressing a light kiss to the boy’s hair as he snuggled in.
“Richie?” Eddie said quietly, voice slightly muffled by the blankets.
“Yeah Eds?” He replied through a small yawn.
“I love you.”
They stayed like that, curled up with each other, soft rainfall the soundtrack to their breathing, before Richie ruined it.
“I love you too, Spaghetti Man.”
It took all of two seconds before Eddie was moving, struggling at his blanket prison. “I take it back, I’m sleeping upstairs with Stan and Mike.”
Somewhere between Richie’s giggle-filled protests and the two consecutive lightning strikes, Eddie decided begrudgingly to stay.
______________________________________________________________
tagslist: @s-s-stutteringbill @gazeboseddie @misssiriusblack @mythgirl96 @crackhousetozier @reddieaddict @wincestklaine @beepbeep-losers @ayyyymichele @megelizabethvh @tapetayloe @flickerflies @ghostbustermike @i-is-gazebo @reddiesetrichie  @wyttolff @gayzier @kaspbrak-is-our-king @mikedenbrough @28shoes @nicoperryy @kinghanscom @eddiecare @shadysandi @fyeahreddie
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yourprayer · 6 years
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pop culture - a fic by @tohzier
he smiled then, and for richie, that was comfort enough.
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yourprayer · 7 years
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pop culture verse character boards
eddie kaspbrak: plant manipulation; esp
“eddie looked down again at the clovers sprouting around his feet, wiggling and stretching towards the sky in sync with the movements of his fingers. he smiled to himself, satisfied; he finally had control.”
pop culture, a losers club superpower au
read the fic here
requests?
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yourprayer · 7 years
Text
pop culture soundtrack
so i’ve finally sat down and began including soundtrack songs in my pop culture chapters. the ones that are already up will have songs added in, and hopefully if i keep my shit together, the new chapters that come in the future will have the songs built in. they’re all hyperlinked with spotify, and if i get a lot of requests from y’all i can also include another platform (i.e. youtube) if necessary. (i just use spotify a lot so thats easiest for me, let me know if you need something else!) i am working on a playlist for the whole fic, but honestly knowing me, it won’t be complete until the fic is complete. so ill link you guys to an ongoing pop culture playlist, which will have all the songs used so far in order, and be updated as i go. bc im a Bitch That Doesn’t Care, not all songs will be era accurate, but all mentioned in the cannon text will be. 
songs look like this in the text, just click and go!
below the cut is the ongoing playlist track list, which includes descriptions of what the songs represent in the story. 
if you’re tagged in this post, it means you’re on my pop culture tagslist. click here if you aren’t yet and you’d like to be! those on the list will be notified again when i have finished updating the current chapters. the prologue is finished! read the updated version here.
the pop culture soundtrack playlist
prologue
brand new kind of blue // gold motel - opening / bill’s theme
oscar wilde // company of thieves - eddie contemplates impulse
sugar shack // jimmy gilmer & the fireballs - beverly marsh and the well deserved drag
level // the raconteurs - the fly on richie tozier’s ceiling
day tripper // the beatles - a (non)singular bee sting 
godzilla // with confidence - anger in small doses
under a blanket of blue // ella fitzgerald, louis armstrong - benjamin hanscom and a basket of sandwiches 
fever // the black keys - stanley’s scare
chapter 1 on its way!
tagslist: @stennbrough @s-s-stutteringbill @gazeboseddie @misssiriusblack @mythgirl96 @crackhousetozier @reddieaddict @wincestklaine @beepbeep-losers @ayyyymichele @ttrxshmouth @megelizabethvh @tapetayloe @flickerflies @ghostbustermike @i-is-gazebo @reddiesetrichie @jessicarayheyman @r-u-reddiee @wyttolff @gayzier @hanscombeverly @kaspbrak-is-our-king @babybyelers @28shoes @nicoperryy
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yourprayer · 7 years
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pop culture verse character boards
stanley uris: telekinesis
“stan sat on the edge of his bed, absentmindedly reaching for the novel on his nightstand. his fingers found empty space. frowning, he searched the floor for the book. he thought maybe it had fallen, but to his surprise, when he sat back up the book was hovering in front of his face.”
pop culture, a losers club superpower au
read the fic here
requests?
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yourprayer · 7 years
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pop culture - chapter 2
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“Adulthood in a town like Derry is even worse than childhood. The listless, empty ramblings of days dragging on in a town that felt like one-size-too-small-shoes sat heavier on the recently graduated than the younger children. Before you were eighteen and responsible for your own lunch money, you could spend your interminable afternoons exploring the surrounding environment, friends of friends abound. Escaping to the arcade and seeing the same films six times at the same theater was an acceptable amount of nothing to do at twelve years old. But when nineteen years hit Bill Denbrough and college acceptance letters didn’t, the sudden, overwhelming, nothingness of nowhere Maine became too heavy to bear.”
chapter 2 (wc: 4.3k)
previous chapter here
chapter list here
want on the tagslist?
Filtered, fading, late summer sunlight drifted lazily through Bill’s bedroom window, landing lightly on Mike’s lap. He looked down at it; it stared back at him. He could feel the gentle heat seeping through his jeans, warming his thigh. He could feel his guilt creeping in, too.
All night Bill had been up worrying himself into a frenzy. The wear was clear on his face; and Stan’s, for that matter. And here was Mike, having slept perfectly soundly.
Could he be blamed for not worrying too much? Sure, Bill’s story had been frighteningly abnormal. But was he wrong in assuming it was only a result of Bill’s continued self-isolation? He had hardly been out at all since graduation. He rarely called, rarely joined in on group outings, rarely connected. Hell, Mike couldn’t remember the last time he and Bill had gone on a bike ride, just the two of them. It was no secret he was stressed over the weight of their impending adulthood. They all were. But Bill especially had been crumbling under the pressure. Mike had just thought… well, he didn’t know what he thought.
But it certainly hadn’t helped.
“... And you’re sure this wasn’t some kind of hallucination. You didn’t smell anything funny, or eat something you usually don’t-?” Bev was asking politely as Mike tuned back into the conversation.
“I’m s-sure.”
“Dude, someone could have slipped you drugs. It happens.” Richie chimed in from the floor, a little too hopefully.
“What the fuck Richie, nobody does that.” Eddie gave him a reproachful look.
“No it totally does, it happened to my cousin once. Someone put acid in his sandwich. He’s colorblind now because of it.”
“Rich, I don’t- wait, he’s fucking colorblind now?” Eddie turned to face Richie fully.
“Bad trips man, they fuck you up.” Richie shrugged. Bill was white.
“... Thanks for that, Richie, but I don’t think your story is helping.” Stan glared at Richie, both hands now on Bill’s shoulders to steady him.
“Continue, Bill.” Ben said quietly, the only one who hadn’t yet interrupted the countenance of Bill’s experience.
“A-a-anyways… After the s-sting and after I f-fell, it st-stayed like that for a minute or so… and th-then there w-w-w-” He gave up on the word with a sigh.
“You’re okay, keep going.” Stan reminded him calmly when it seemed like Bill would not try starting his sentence again.
“Th-there was another st-sting. And then it went away.”
Eddie gulped, then leaned in to Richie to whisper in his ear.
“I think that’s very much your level of weird.”
Richie was visibly shaken.
Mike wondered what the fuck that was about.
“Bev.” Ben said suddenly, coming out of his contemplation and preventing Mike from interrogating Eddie and Richie. “Do you think this has anything to do with what you told me?” He looked at her searchingly.
She thought for a moment, weighing her words.
“Possibly.”
Stan shot her an inquiring gaze. “What is he on about?”
“I had a vision today.” Bev said plainly.
“A vision.” Mike said from his chair behind her, his tone skeptic.
“Yeah.” She shrugged. “It’s never happened quite like this before, but… when I was a kid my family thought I was a prophet. I used to have these dreams, and-”
“A prophet?!” Richie leaned over Eddie, placing a hand on the other boys knee to steady himself, and looked at Bev incredulously. “What in the fuck does that mean?”
“Exactly what you think it means, Richie. I had prophetic dreams. It stopped happening after I was in like, middle school, but they used to be fairly frequent.”
“Did you have another one?” Stan asked before Richie could open his mouth again.
“Not while I was asleep.”
Silence fell, and Mike could feel his brow knitting together in skepticism. He tried to stop the thoughts kicking at his mind; everything in him was screaming to discredit all this nonsense. The things they were talking about were… impossible! As much as he loved his friends, he had to say it, they were-
No. Be more open.
“So you had a vision. And you know it was real.” Mike said, trying to keep his tone neutral and not accusatory. Bev nodded at him over her shoulder. “Okay, then, what was it of?”
“It was… well it was Bill’s hands, cupped, holding a bird.”
Mike blinked.
“What kind of bird?” Stan asked.
Richie snorted.
“Pfft, first thing he asks about a psychic fucking vision is the bird breed, whatta nerd-”
“Beep beep, Richie.” Came Eddie’s grumbled retort.
“I don’t know, like a finch or something. A small, brown one.”
Bill looked like he was gonna hurl.
“Hey, do you need some air?” Eddie placed a hand on Bill’s knee, immediately sensing his change in demeanor. Bill shook his head, but didn’t open his mouth.
“Bev and I tried to come up with some idea of what it meant, but, we couldn’t think of anything.” Ben continued when they all felt Bill wasn’t about to keel over.
“But you think it could have to do with Bill’s finger.” Mike sat back, crossing his arms.
“There’s a chance.” Ben supplied.
Richie had been uncharacteristically quiet throughout the conversation, his few comments surprisingly far between. Mike had pretended not to notice, but now he could practically see the sweat on his brow. Richie was shifting uncomfortably, and Eddie was watching him like a hawk, concern written on his face. But there was something else there too…
“Around what time of day did this happen, Bev?” Eddie asked suddenly, surprising them all.
“Just after I got off work. About noon, twelve thirty?”
Eddie gave Richie a look. “And you, Bill?”
“A-around the same time…” Bill said quietly, locking eyes with Beverly.
“Rich.” Eddie said quietly, solemnly placing his hand over Richie’s on the floor. Richie swallowed, shakily raising a hand to fix his glasses.
“Okay, Richie. What the fuck is going on with you.” Both Richie and Eddie’s faces shot around, looking at Mike with wide eyes. “You’re wigged. Something to share?”
Stan, Ben and Bev all looked to the boys confused. Bill still looked visibly shaken by Beverly’s story. Eddie looked incredibly guilty, clearly fighting the urge to blurt something out. Richie gave Mike a strange look, almost like he was fighting back the fear bubbling to the surface of his emotions. The two boys looked at each other, Eddie raising a goading eyebrow. Richie shook his head acutely, shrugging and sitting back.
“Nothing to share Mike, my boy, I’m all aces.”
“No, you’re not Richie. Spill.” Stan glared at him. Richie stared back, challenging him.
Richie lost.
“Okay, okay.” He sighed, shifting his weight and settling with his legs crossed, leaning on Eddie. “Something happened to me yesterday too.”
“Same time of day?” Ben said, turning to face Richie better, leaning against the bedpost at the foot of Bill’s bed.
“Yeah.” Richie nodded.
“Do you want me to tell them?” Eddie asked, meeting Richie’s gaze.
“Go for it, spaghetti-o.” He said in a sullen tone.
Oh, this oughtta be good.
______________________________________________________________
By the time Richie had finished his story, Stan’s head was spinning. The new revelations of the afternoon had made him feel a little better about the absurdity of Bill’s situation, but it had only made him more worried about the group as a whole. Quite a few of them were experiencing strange phenomena, and all of them were freaked. Stan, for once in his life, was totally unsure of what to do. Usually he was the level-headed one, the best at taking initiative. But with this… he had no idea what to do.
“Wait, let’s- let’s think about this.” Mike started, standing up. “We have to go over our options. Would you say we should start with figuring out the cause, yeah?” There was a chorus of agreement.
Thank god for Mike.
“So Bill says he didn’t eat anything weird. But what about Richie and Bev?”
“I only had diner food. My usual.”
“I hadn’t eaten anything at that point.”
“You- did you have any food before you got to my house?” Eddie snapped.
“Uh, no?”
“Richie you went all day without eating?! You got to my house at like, midnight!”
“Relax Eds, I do this all time-”
“You do this all the time-!?”
“What about smells.” Mike interjected, giving Eddie an annoyed look. “Literally, anything out of the ordinary you can think of.”
“Other than my fucking ghost of breakfasts past experience you mean?” Richie quipped. “Maybe I had some bunk pancakes, maybe that's why my fucking stomach disappeared!”
Stan was a little shocked at the harshness of the comment. “We’re just trying to figure out what the fuck happened, you don’t have to be a dick about it.”
Richie looked at his lap ashamed. “Sorry.” He mumbled.
The group sat in silence, contemplating, a million thoughts racing through the stagnant air in Bill’s bedroom.
One of them, coagulating, dread filling the room as the light bulb clicked for each of them.
“You don’t think…” Bev said, looking up at Stan and Bill.
“Of course I think.” Stan said after a moment. “How could we be so stupid, of course its-”
“Wait wait wait, you guys aren’t serious, are you?” Mike sighed. “There’s no way-”
“Do you really think there’s any other explanation, Mike?” Ben rejoined.
Eddie and Richie shared a look that ended in the both of them groaning, Eddie resting his head in his hands.
“What? What’s wrong with you two?”
“I can’t believe we didn’t think of that.” Eddie muttered. “For hours we kept going over it, and it never crossed our minds.”
“Shoulda been the first thing that came up.” Richie flopped onto his back, staring at the ceiling.
“Do you realize what you’re even insinuating here, guys?” Mike started pacing. “The idea that, well, that- had anything to do with this crazy shit? It’s un-fucking-believable.”
“And what else was it, huh? We all saw it, we all knew something was up, it has to be the reason!” Stan said, standing up. Bill glanced up at his back, almost whining at the loss of his friend (that he had been leaning heavily on) next to him.
“There’s got to be some kind of connection.” Ben stood as well, walking to the window. “I mean, I don’t know about you guys, but the memory is.. Kinda fuzzy for me. I can’t really think of the specifics of what happened but… that’s gotta be it.”
Bill looked down at his sheets. “I don’t really r-r-remember either.”
“So even if this thing did something to us, how the fuck does that work?” Eddie asked, stress clear on his face. Richie noticed and raised his hand to rub circles on the smaller boys back.
“Beats me.” Mike groaned. “But I seriously doubt it.”
“I think we should go back.” Bev said, determined.
“Are you insane?” Eddie looked over at her. “We should never go back!”
“Hey, why not, Eds.” Richie said, sitting up and putting an arm around Eddie. “It could help us find answers.”
“Well you can go without me.” Eddie pouted.
“Hell n-no.” Bill said firmly, his voice finally regaining a normal volume. “We have to go back together. A-all of us.”
“There’s no way I’m doing that!” Eddie shot up, pushing Richie away. “That thing gave me the fucking creeps and I don’t want to be near it again! If it’s- if it’s what did this then we should stay away from it! We’re lucky we didn’t die!”
“Eddie-”
“Don’t Eddie me, Bev! I’m serious, I’m not going!”
Silence fell.
Richie got up.
He and Eddie shared a look.
Eddie lost.
______________________________________________________________
Mike’s old Toyota trundled down the old gravel logging road, the radio playing softly over the slight breeze and the crunch of the tires. Bill had brought his dad’s favorite Blues Brothers cassette, and the opening notes of “B” Movie Boxcar Blues filled the cab of the truck. Bill sat center, between their trusty chauffeur and Stan, who maintained that riding in the back of a truck would be his cause of death someday. In the back, Richie and Eddie took the left side, while Ben and Bev huddled together under their picnic blanket. The picnic in question, a large woven basket taken from Mrs. Denbrough’s inexplicably large collection, filled with snacks and homemade sandwiches, sat in the bed of the truck between them. Bev and Richie were passing a cigarette back and forth across the space, and Eddie scowled everytime Richie got up to grab it from her, peeved at the loss of the heat. He was stupidly wearing only a thin grey cotton hoodie, and he was mourning his thicker coat still hanging up at home. When the cigarette was done, Richie settled in for the length of the ride against Eddie, resting a head on his shoulder and looping his arm through Eddie’s. He tried to ignore the heat in his cheeks. They were just chapped from the wind.
______________________________________________________________
“C’mon jackasses, I told you it’s just right around here!”
“Tozier, slow the fuck down, you’re gonna get yourself killed!”
“Relax, Staniel, I’m a professional.”
“Professional asshole.” Eddie mumbled, struggling to find a good grip.
“Professional rock climber first, professional asshole second.” He winked over his shoulder at Eddie, disappearing as he crested the bluff.
“What’s so important that we have to climb all the way up there?” Ben called from the back of the group, groaning at the ascent ahead of him.
“I don’t kn-know, we’ve lost him.” Bill called back, backpack hanging loosely off his shoulders and threatening to fall in Stan’s face.
“Just- keep going you guys.” Mike said through gritted teeth, hauling himself up where Richie had just vanished.
“I don’t even wanna see this dumb thing anyways.” Ben sighed, climbing up after Beverly, who was shyly giggling at Ben’s protests.
Richie’s curls popped out over the edge, followed by his stupid shit-eating grin, right in Eddie’s line of sight as he reached the top. Eddie shrieked and lost his grip, hands flailing as he started going backwards. Richie reached down and grabbed his wrists.
“Jesus Christ Eds, you should be more careful down there.”
“Oh fuck you, Tozier, you scared me!” Bill and Stan shared a bought of laughter below them. “It’s not funny, Denbrough!” Eddie glared down at them. They kept laughing anyway.
Richie proceeded to pull Eddie up over the edge. He had brought them to a grassy bluff, which stretched on to the edges of a forest, a good mile or so past them. The open field was beautiful. Eddie stared in wonder up at the open expanse of the night sky. It was a clear Saturday night; by now it had passed midnight and would count as early Sunday. He walked forward, pulling the sleeves of his sweater back down and shivering lightly. He was mesmerized, as the rest of the losers one by one climbed over the edge to join him, Mike, and Richie.
“Wow.” Beverly sighed, looking up at the sky. “This is a much better view than the quarry.
“Please tell me you didn’t drag us all the way up here for the view.” Stan glared at Richie, who was looking frantically around the clearing.
“No, Stan, I told you, I saw it land over here.” Richie responded distractedly. “It’s gotta be up here somewhere.”
“So to answer your question Stan, no, we came up here to chase Richie’s falling star.” Bev mocked, rolling her eyes as they all started to follow Richie, who had started trudging across the clearing.
“The one only he saw?” Mike laughed with her.
“Hey, I saw it too.” Eddie said defensively.
Bill and Stan shared a look. Bill shrugged. “I’ll a-a-admit it. I saw it t-too.”
“I think we would have felt it if something crash-landed this close to us, Rich.” Ben mumbled. “Besides-”
Everyone fell silent as they reached a downward curve in the clearing. As the plain tilted down towards the treeline, they came to a halt at the top of the hill.
Down where the grass plateaued into flatland and met the trees, was a deep, gaping hole in the earth, a blueish green light pulsating from its center.
“Holy shit.” About half of them muttered simultaneously.
“HA!” Richie turned to face the group from his end on the left. “I fucking told you!”
And then he promptly ran all the way down the fucking hill towards it.
“Richie, what the fuck?!” Eddie screeched after him, torn between fear and frustration, afraid to move. Bill and Mike quickly looked at each other before running down after Richie. Ben and Bev joined hands and followed down at a cautious walk, leaving Eddie and Stan at the top of the hill.
“God they’re so fucking- this is- this is stupid! We shouldn’t be going near that thing!”
“You’re preaching to the choir here, Eddie. No fucking way I’m going down there.”
“Guys! GUYS GET THE FUCK BACK UP HERE!”
“QUIT YOUR SCREECHING EDS! THIS THING’S FUCKIN LEGIT, GET DOWN HERE!”
“NO FUCKING WAY!” Eddie shook his head violently, his breathing growing quicker. “I’M STAYING RIGHT HERE!”
“SUIT YOURSELF, PUSSY!”
“Beep beep, Richie.” Mike shot him a look as they all formed a circle around the hole.
“Sorry, sorry, I just wish they’d come down here and look at this shit!”
“They’ll come when they’re ready.” Bev gave him a placating look.
“Bill, you got my camera in there?” Ben said, pointing towards the backpack.
“Yeah, h-here.” Bill shrugged off the bag and unzipped it, holding it out so Ben could pull out his portable film camera. He waved Bill and Bev to scoot back, then leaned forward over the pit and started snapping photos.
“This has gotta be the thing I saw. It’s a fuckin meteor or some shit.” Richie said excitedly.
“I’m sure Stan would know better, if he would come look at it.” Mike interjected. “Dude’s a science whiz.”
“Doesn’t mean he’s the presiding authority, Mike and Ike! I happen to know quite a lot about science myself.” Richie put his hands on his hips. “First rule of science; hypothesis. What’s ours, ladies and gents?”
“It’s a rock from space?” Beverly supplied.
“Yes, but you have to phrase it smart-like.” Richie snap-pointed in exuberance.
“This rock’s origin is unknown, but is definitely from somewhere beyond Earth.”
“That’s the ticket, Mike! Now, how do we prove it?”
“Guessing?” Bill snorted.
“No, dear Billiam! One word: experimentation.”
A devilish smile crept onto Richie’s face. Bill went white.
“No. R-Rich, no-”
“Tally-ho!”
And with that, Richie Tozier dove down the hole, feet first.
______________________________________________________________
Stan doesn’t think he’s ever heard Eddie Kaspbrak screech so loudly.
Or seen him run so fast.
“Richie! Richie, get out of there!” The other losers were crowded around the hole, calling down to Richie, who had disappeared completely into the darkness of the pit. Stan ran begrudgingly down to the group after Eddie, who vaulted past the others and practically catapulted himself into the hole after Richie.
“Eddie, no!” Ben called, gaping at him as he watched the smaller boy descend.
“Christ guys, get out of there!” Mike yelled, leaning his face down into the hole. “Jesus, I can’t see shit-”
“Do you have a flashlight in there?” Bev said, gesturing at Bill’s bag.
“It m-might not have battery life, b-but yeah.” Bill pulled an old flashlight of his dad’s out of his bag. It took a few smacks to get it to turn on, but once the beam shined true he handed it over to Mike, who resumed his inspection of the hole.
“I can’t see them at all.” Mike grumbled. “It goes on for awhile.”
“I’m going in.” Ben said, handing his camera to Bev.
“No, no way. We just need to get them to climb back out.” Bev said, gripping his hands.
“Richie! Ed! Come on, get out of there!” Mike called down the hole. No response.
“Guys, seriously, what if they’re stuck down there-” Ben protested.
“RICHARD TOZIER! EDWARD KASPBRAK! GET YOUR ASSES BACK UP HERE!” Mike bellowed, before scrambling back from the hole in surprise.
“Jesus, Michael, no need to get formal on us.” Richie smiled up at him as he climbed up out of the pit. “We found something.”
“For fuck’s sake Tozier, you scared the shit out of us.” Ben breathed, relief coursing through him. “Where’s Eddie?”
“I’m here!” Came Eddie’s muffled voice, and his left hand reaching up out of the hole next to Richie. Richie moved out of the way and reached down to pull Eddie out, which resulted in the two of them tumbling over and landing side by side on the ground, Eddie on his stomach.
“We found something.” He declared into the grass.
“So we’ve been told.” Bev raised an eyebrow.
“Look at this.” Richie said in a hushed tone, pulling something from his pocket as Mike helped Eddie to his feet. Richie stood, object in hand, as they all crowded round to see.
In the palm of Richie’s hand sat a rock of some kind, no bigger than a baseball, that was glowing.
The center was a pulsating blue, the greenish hues more visible the closer to the edges the light got. It was rough and crystalline in form, with bits of black and rough particles mixed in around it. The light was low and flickering, much darker than what had been visible from the top of the hill. Beverly gasped in awe, immediately reaching out to take it in her own hands.
“Wow.” She breathed, in awe of the sight. Ben immediately leveled his camera to take a picture. (Multiple. Certainly because of the cool space rock. Totally not because of Beverly’s beautiful expression.)
“What the fuck is that…” Stan pondered quietly, as he and Bill went to take the stone from Bev. They each used a hand to hold both ends, examining the underneath as they raised it above their heads. They passed it to Mike, looking at each other in confusion.
“Is it… getting brighter?” Mike pondered as he held the stone in one hand.
“Sort of looks like it is.” Ben said, repositioning Mike’s hand so he could get a better picture of the stone before taking it in his hand himself. “It feels kind of warm.” He took another shot of it in his palm.
“It wasn’t warm when we picked it up-” Eddie grabbed the stone from Ben, holding it level with his face so he could inspect it closely. He suddenly hissed in pain and dropped it. “Ow, fuck!”
The dew-covered grass where the stone landed began to sizzle. “Whoa, Eddie, you okay?” Richie grabbed at Eddie’s hand, inspecting it for a burn mark.
“That thing fucking burned me!”
The light from the stone grew brighter.
“Uh, guys?”
“You don’t have a mark-”
The hue grew more green, a deep, true green.
“Guys!”
“I think I know when I’ve been burned, Richie-”
“Guys, move!”
And then, there was light.
______________________________________________________________
Bill shook his head as he sat up, grass and dirt clinging to his cheek. To his left was a disgruntled Stan, face down in the grass as he tried to push himself up with his arms.
Across the field, about twenty yards away from him was Beverly. She wasn’t stirring. Beyond her, a few more yards to her left, was Ben, who was hoisting himself into a kneeling position.
Bill turned the other way to see Mike, closer by. He was groaning, and pretty soon Bev’s disdain joined his. Beyond Mike, nearly fifty yards away, Richie was shaking a limp form.
Oh god.
Bill was on his feet as quickly as possible, but hadn’t accounted for the effect the shock would have on his body. He went down almost immediately, bile rising in his stomach as he landed on all fours.
“Eddie! Eddie!” Richie’s frantic shouts started to float across the expanse, each of the others realizing what was going on and attempting to stumble their way over to the two boys.
Bill went directly past the pit as he made his way to the others. He passed the charred spot in the grass where the stone had landed.
It was gone.
“Eddie!” Richie was growing more and more frantic, the panic clear on his face when Mike reached them first.
“Rich, Rich, let go, give him some air.” Mike said calmly as he tried to lay Eddie out flat.
“Why won’t he wake up?!”
“Hey, hey, he’s been knocked pretty hard, okay? It’s gonna take him a minute, shaking him won’t help.” Richie took a shuddering breath, but hesitantly nodded.
Bill and Stan came running over, before kneeling down on either side of Richie. Bev and Ben stood behind them when they arrived, looking down at Eddie’s quiet form with worry.
“Eddie, hey, time to wake up now.” Mike said in a gentle tone, lightly tapping Eddie’s face. A small trail of blood started running out of Eddie’s nose.
Richie lost his shit.
“Eds- Eds, oh my god, look at his nose!” He cried, reaching out to wipe the blood away and shake his face.
“Richie! Be careful with him, he could have a concussion!” Mike yelled, trying to pull Richie’s hands away. The scuffle jostled Eddie more, but the boy still didn’t stir. When Mike was finally able to pull Richie away, and Stan and Bill got ahold of his hands to keep him from reaching out again, they heard a small intake of breath.
“What th-... what the fuck?”
“Eddie!”
Richie lost his handlers and immediately scooped the smaller boy into his arms. “Jesus fucking Christ Eds, you scared the shit out of me.”
“What the fuck happened?” He muttered, rubbing a sore spot on his head.
“That thing fucking exploded.” Stan said plainly. “Right over-” He trailed off as they all turned to look at where the stone had dropped, and they saw nothing but an empty field.
authors notes: here’s a good old flashback sequence for yall!!! i hope maybe soon any questions you have will start to get answered <3 again, a huge thanks to my lovely beta and bff @richiefreakingtozier, the goddess that is sara (follow her u dingnuts!!!) please give a like or a reblog if u enjoyed!!!!
tagslist: @richiefreakingtozier @s-s-stutteringbill @gazeboseddie @misssiriusblack @mythgirl96 @swiffybird @reddieaddict @wincestklaine @beepbeep-losers @ayyyymichele @ttrxshmouth
my askbox: requests are always open!
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yourprayer · 7 years
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this post got fucked up read the real fic here 
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yourprayer · 7 years
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Have you made the pop culture verse playlist? Just curious, because I saw an ask you mentioned it in an ask and I’m about to start reading your fic!!
oh anon, u have no idea how much this ask made my heart soar
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yourprayer · 7 years
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Hey out of curiosity is popcultureverse still a wip? I just reread it again and it’s really great, just curious if it’s a project you are still working on. :)
it is indeed!!!! tysm for taking the time to read it im floored u like it
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yourprayer · 6 years
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pop culture chapter 9
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chapter 9 - june (wc: 4k - chapters now with subtitles?)
chapter list here
read it on ao3
want on the taglist?
Stanley’s overworked cassette player faithfully churned out note after note of Creedence’s Lodi as his SUV trudged through the streets of Derry. Ben sat in his passenger seat, foot tapping along to the beat. He leaned forward a bit, adjusting the AC vent aimed his way.
“Thanks for the ride, by the way.” He said after a few bars of the song played.
“Yep.” Stan tapped his fingers lightly on the wheel, not quite on beat. Ben watched him casually out of the corner of his eye, trying to weigh his next sentence before speaking.
“I know what you’re going to ask me.” Stan beat him to it, ever the observant one.
Ben raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”
“I know I’m acting weird.”
“I was just gonna ask if there was anything going on.”
It was Stan’s turn to raise an eyebrow.
“Okay, stupid question.” Ben acquiesced.
“I’m just really stressed about the group.” Stan confessed after another beat.
“I understand that.”
“I mean- what are we doing? We’re all, I don’t know, mutating, which is a whole thing I know none of us know how to deal with. Richie’s had a whole bug up his ass about Eddie all summer, and Eddie, Eddie got in a huge fight with Mike on Thursday and I haven’t heard from either of them since. Bill hasn’t spoken to me since the last time we were over, and I’m really worried he’s in his head again because he got another rejection letter. Mike just told me the other week his dad is really sick, I think Eddie’s mother is about two days away from putting bars on his window, and I’ve got no idea what’s going on with you and Bev because you guys hardly share anything about your lives anymore-”
“Stan.” Ben put a hand on Stan’s knee, using his firmest tone to jolt his friend out of his rambling. “You know that’s not all your responsibility, right?”
“Of course it is Ben, you’re all my friends.”
Let me rephrase then; it’s not solely your responsibility.”
“Well-”
“No, listen. It’s good that you want to be there for your friends and support them. We definitely all need you. But it’s not on you alone to fix all those problems.”
“I didn’t say-”
“I know you didn’t. But I can tell you think it.”
Stan gave him a sidelong glance.
“You’re not the only perceptive one.”
“I just feel like… like it’s on me to make sure everyone’s okay before I go.”
“In our defence,” Ben started with a laugh. “We’ll never be okay, especially after you go.”
Stan wrinkled his brow. “That makes me feel real awesome about it, thanks.”
“It’s nothing against you, Stan. Everyone’s gotta move on sometime. Doesn’t mean it won’t suck balls.”
Stan’s face broke into a begrudging grin. “You really tell it like it is, Hanscom.”
Ben laughed, deep from his belly. “No point in sugar-coating it. Losing you to Connecticut is gonna be the worst thing that ever happened to this lowly gang, and that’s including when Bowers snapped Eddie’s arm like a twig.”
“I would have thought for sure that would hold the championship title pretty much forever.” Stan laughed as he turned on his blinker, coming up on Bill’s street.
“Apparently not; he told me a few weeks ago that he was actually grateful for it. Something about finally understanding what real pain feels like.”
“Well I know I’ll become well acquainted with real pain here soon.” Stan said, suddenly solemn as he pulled into Bill’s driveway. He killed the engine and the two sat, Ben silently waiting for Stan to elaborate.
It took more than a beat, but he finally released his reservations.
“I don’t want to go away for school. I’m going to miss you guys more than life itself.” He sighed, his body relaxing as though the admission took all of the energy out of him.
“We’re going to feel the same way.” Ben told him after a moment of thought, placing a hand on Stan’s shoulder reassuringly. He hoped beyond hope it’d sound sincere, that Stan would believe him.
Judging by Stan’s smile, he did.
“Thank you, Ben.”
“Anything, anytime, Stan the man.” Ben returned the grin, one hand shooting a finger gun at Stanley and the other coming up to open the door handle. Stan copied his movement, the two of them clambering out of the car just as Mike came trundling up in the old pickup, Beverly jamming to a hard rock song in the passenger seat. The two boys stood on either side of the parked SUV, doors still open as they watched their friends with fond smiles. They wouldn’t know it ever for sure, but both Ben and Stan swore they could could hear a voice on the wind sighing, as if to say “ah, there’s my love”.
For Ben, it was a thought as thoughtless as breathing.
For Stan, it required a lot of analysis.  
______________________________________________________________
“I vote if Richie doesn’t show up in the next ten minutes, he officially forfeits his turn for movie choice.” Mike pitched to the group, leaning back from his spot on the couch to look up at Ben and Bill, who were standing behind it, as best he could.
“I second that.” Beverly chipped in as she emerged from the kitchen with a giant bowl of popcorn held to her chest, Stan in tow with a twelve pack of sodas in each hand. “I do not want to watch whatever he’s got in mind for tonight.” She sat in her regular spot in the center of the couch, popcorn bowl in her lap. She patted the space next to her as she looked up at Ben, an unnecessary request as they pretty much had assigned seating. Beverly sat in the middle of the couch, Mike on her right and Ben on her left. She was the popcorn keeper, so it was imperative she remained in a central location. Bill and Stan usually built a relatively intricate pillow fort on the floor in front of their couch, the amount of pillows and blankets entirely dependant on how long they intended on remaining on the ground. Richie and Eddie were frequently left to pull the loveseat closer to the TV and kept it longways, laying across it and tangling up with each other. “If he tries to make me watch Breakfast Club one more time, I’m gonna smack him.”
“Is it because he thinks you look like Molly Ringwald?” Mike asked cheekily, stealing a handful of popcorn.
“He thinks he’s soooooo funny with the comparison.” Bev griped, stuffing a handful of popcorn into her mouth. “It’s like, he does know she’s in other movies though, right? He didn’t say a word when Ben put on Sixteen Candles last month!”
“That’s p-probably b-b-because he was t-too busy ma-making fun of B-Ben for liking Sic-Sixteen Candles.” Bill joked, setting up a plethora of pillows on the floor.
Beverly dramatically gasped, placing her hands over Ben’s ears, dropping popcorn on him in the process. “Don’t listen to them baby, I love that you love Sixteen Candles.”
“My favorite Ringwald flick is The Pick-up Artist.” Stan commented casually from the floor where he’d set up the sodas before he cracked one open.
“Ooh, deep cut.” Mike smirked at him.
Stan shrugged a shoulder. “What? I’m allowed to like things.”
“I’m just joshin’ ya.” Mike’s smile widened as he made grabby hands for the sodas.
“I know, ya kook.” Stan grabbed one and tossed it to him.
“T-tap that c-can, Hanlon. You are n-n-not allowed to get s-soda on my mo-moms couch.” Bill warned Mike, looking at the soda can a bit like it was a loaded gun.
“I know, I know, don’t get your panties in a twist.” Mike rolled his eyes, tapping the top of his can with a fingernail. The conversation came to a lull as he opened it and took a drink, the energy in the room growing tense.
“Jesus, I wish Richie and Eddie would get here. I wanna get started already.” Ben commented, pointedly looking at his watch. The others nodded in agreement, but offered no conversation starters.
“I actually, uh, have something to mention while we wait on them.” Beverly cleared her throat, readjusting her position on the couch.
“What’s up?” Ben put a hand on her leg, turning towards her partially.
“I had another vision.” She admitted sheepishly, glancing out of the corner of her eye at Mike. He’d been sworn to secrecy, but Ben still told Beverly what Mike had said about his disbelief.
“What was it of?” Stan asked curiously.
“Just a rainbow.”
“That’s it?” Mike raised an eyebrow.
“Yep. That’s all. No clue what it means.”
“Yeah, that’s me stumped.” Ben agreed.
“I got no clue.” Bill put in.
“Weird.” Stan acknowledged.
“Yup.” Beverly popped the ‘P’, running her hands over her thighs nervously. The casual silence fell over them again. Before it became too much to bear, they heard the sounds of bickering and bike frames hitting the pavement outside.
“Ugh, finally.” Ben sighed. The sounds of Richie and Eddie’s hushed argument moved closer to the front door before it was being thrown open, the two entering the room mid-conversation.
“-you weren’t so stubborn-” Richie paused as he held the door open, Eddie entering looking like he could set fires with his eyes as he crossed under Richie’s arm. “Hi.” Richie practically slammed the door shut, turning to face the group and addressing them in a very aggressive tone. “Sorry we’re so late. Someone has spent the last few hours refusing to let me remove the stick from his ass, so here we are, late to the party and the stick’s still there!”
“Richie, would you shut the fuck up already!” Eddie railed, glaring daggers at him.
“What the hell you two, what’s this about?” Ben squinted at them, deeply offended by their cruelty towards each other.
“Anything you want to say to Mike?” Richie was still locked in some kind of combat of wills with Eddie, the two making charged eye contact.
“No.” Eddie said, with finality.
Mike had decided to keep his eyes down-cast, his arms crossed in a way that was more defensive than casual. Stan glanced guiltily between the two parties.
“Wh-why does Ed n-n-need to say anyth-thing to Mike?” Bill asked suspiciously, giving Eddie’s back a stern look. When Eddie refused to answer, Richie did, eyes still locked with the smaller boy’s.
“Mike and Eddie had a stupid fight and he refuses to apologize.”
“I have nothing to apologize for! I’m not the one who was being an accusatory asshole!”
“Well I’m not going to apologize either,” Mike cut in angrily. “I meant what I said.”
“I wasn’t talking to you!” Eddie snapped, looking slightly in Mike’s direction but not into his eyes.
“I’m not putting up with this. I’m going to the bathroom. If you can’t be civil by the time I come back, I’m leaving.” Mike stood up, voice firm and tinged with annoyance as he delivered his ultimatum before departing the room, trudging up the stairs. Eddie did nothing but huff, his eyes darting around as though he was searching for words. He gave up, retreating to the kitchen. Richie looked for a moment like he might follow him, but decided against it. Instead he flopped onto the pillow pile in front of the couch face-first, narrowly avoiding smacking his head onto Bill’s knee. It was silent for a beat before Richie let out one long, muffled groan. Beverly waited until he was done before looking at Stan, who wore a pained expression.
“Stanley, care to fill us in?”
Stan swallowed nervously, glancing at Bill before speaking.
“Mike and Eddie got in a fight the other day.”
“Yeah, I think we gathered that.” Beverly said dryly. “Over what?”’
“Mike told Eddie he thinks he’s got a panic disorder.”
“Which I don’t!” Eddie called from the kitchen, alerting them to his eavesdropping.
“Then come in here and defend yourself!” Ben said angrily.
“Don’ wase yer ime.” Richie’s muffled voice came from the pillows.
“I don’t have anything to say about it.” Eddie’s voice echoed from the empty kitchen.
“C-clearly you do.” Bill looked towards the darkened doorway, where he could make out Eddie’s silhouette, arms hugged around himself as he leaned against the counter and stared at his feet. Bill watched him shake his head. He turned back to the group with a roll of his eyes. Richie finally raised his head, folding his arms underneath it and resting his chin on them. He stared at the floor solemnly.
The group sat silent for a beat, each processing the situation. They heard the sound of a toilet flush upstairs. Richie sighed and pushed himself up to his feet, crossing the room to begin dragging the loveseat closer to the TV.
Just as Mike reached the bottom of the stairs, Eddie came out of his hiding place in the kitchen. The two ran into each other in the hallway, Mike refusing to back down as he crossed his arms and essentially blocked Eddie’s path. Eddie stood across from him fidgeting, still refusing to meet his eye.
“I’m not apologizing.” Eddie managed after a beat.
“That’s something we can agree on.” Mike said flatly, before continuing with a raised eyebrow. “But can you behave yourself for the rest of the night?”
Eddie was silent again.
“FneIgss.” A jumbled response finally came, muttered quietly to the floor.
“Sorry, what was that?” Mike goaded.
“Fine. I guess.” Apparently having had enough, Eddie shoved past him to the living room. Mike followed with a deep sigh. The rest of the gang watched them return with trepidation and caution in their gazes; Eddie beelined to where Richie was stretched out on the loveseat, the two promptly curling around each other. Mike trudged over to his spot on the couch, sitting down like he had a backpack full of bricks on.
“S-so are we good?” Bill posed to the silence after the two settled. When Eddie didn’t respond, Mike exhaled.
“I guess.”
“So R-Rich, what d-d-did you want t-to watch?”
“Huh?” Richie started a bit at having the attention dragged to him, his mind preoccupied with studying the line of Eddie’s back, attempting to discern his feelings despite his face being turned away and pressed into the cushions. “Oh, uh. I forfeit my turn.” He responded distractedly.
“Dibs!” Beverly called immediately, trying to breathe some joy back into the room with a small smile. “I want to watch Dazed and Confused.”
“But w-we don’t have any w-weed.” Bill cracked a smile too.
“So? We’ll watch it high before the summer is through, I promise.”
“I’m down.” Ben shrugged. “I haven’t seen it yet.”
“What?!” Richie tuned back into the conversation. “Yes you have, we all went and saw it dummy!”
“I worked that night, dipshit.” Ben reached over and clapped Richie on the back of the head.
“Ah, fuck. Okay. I second it, play the tape Stanny.” Richie settled into the loveseat more, shifting Eddie into a more comfortable position. “Throw a guy a blanket, Billiam?” Bill reached over and grabbed a spare blanket from the pile he and Stan had assembled, handing it over to Richie as Stan got the movie in and playing. Mike reached over to the side table beside him and turned out the light.
The opening studio logos began to play on the screen, blankets and pillows were distributed and adjusted, drinks and popcorn were handed out and consumed. Anyone looking in the window on the street as they passed would see only a picture of peace.
______________________________________________________________
Once again, Stan was the first to wake up. Since Georgie was at a friends house, and Mr. and Mrs. Denbrough were at Bill’s uncles’ for the weekend up in Bangor, some of the gang had decided to stay in the living room. Bev and Ben had claimed Bill’s bed early in the night, Bill himself choosing to crash in his brothers bed. Richie and Eddie had been asleep on their loveseat during the second movie, but had woken sometime later and decided to go back to the Toziers, leaving Stan and Mike on the couches.
Presently, Stan was groggily returning to the land of the living, glancing to the side and seeing Mike lightly snoring in the soft glow of the early sunlight. His stomach twisted and dropped at the sight. You’re just hungry, he repeated to himself, desperately trying to rationalize his thoughts. He threw the blanket off of him and stood quietly, hoping a trip to the bathroom and a cup of coffee could shake him out of the wild thoughts swimming in his mind.
When he returned from the bathroom, Mike was awake, sitting up and rubbing at his forehead in an attempt to clear away the residual sleep.
“Morning,” Stan said softly, a tiny smile painting his face. “Coffee?”
“No thanks,” Mike declined, shaking his head before sitting up fully to look at Stan. “I’m actually gonna head out, go home and sleep some more before work.”
Stanley pointedly ignored the way his stomach fell, disappointment at the idea of not getting to spend the day with Mike seeping in.
“Fair.” He settled on, releasing a light laugh to disguise his real reaction. One that needs very thorough examination, he thought, mortified at the implications.
“I’ll see you guys when I see you, I guess?” Mike nervously spoke as he stood and gathered his things.
“I guess.” Stan responded, somewhat despondently. “Everything’s been so chaotic lately, it’s hard to say for certain.”
“Well, I hope we don’t start pulling the whole ‘barely see each other every few weeks’ shit again, I hated that.” Mike turned to face him in the middle of the living room.
“Me too.”
“So don’t be a stranger.” Mike was then pulling him into a hug, sliding his arms around Stanley in that old familiar way, enveloping him in a warmth and comfort and a sudden overwhelming feeling that had Stan reeling by the time it was over.
“I won’t. Promise.”
He’d barely caught his breath by the time Mike bid him farewell, and was gone.
______________________________________________________________
“Okay, what about this one?”
“Still a no, Rich.”
“Jesus Christ, it’s like you’ve been living under a rock!” Richie dramatically fell backwards with the vinyl in hand, Eddie barely managing to catch it before he hit the ground.
“You’ll have to excuse my lack of concern.” Eddie deadpanned.
“It’s my sworn, God given duty to educate you.” Richie looked up at him from the floor, plucking the Queen album from Eddie’s hand before scrambling back to his feet and crossing to his record player.
“The only thing God gave you is glaucoma.” Eddie snorted, moving to make himself comfortable on Richie’s bed.
“For the last time, Eduardo,” Richie sighed as he placed the needle on the record. “I do not have glaucoma.”
“Yet.” Eddie said plainly as he laid back, arms crossed under his head. The album began spinning, notes filling the room, mismatched to the bopping of Richie’s head as he missed the rhythm. He danced poorly across the room, eventually reaching the edge of his bed and falling onto it gracelessly, landing parallel to Eddie on his stomach.
“Maybe I won’t get it.” He protested feebly.
“Your dad has it. You’ve got like, an eighty percent likelihood.”
“Who knows. Maybe it’ll skip me. I’m special.”
“You sure are.” Eddie joked with a snort. Richie retaliated by pinching his side. “Hey!”
“You dealt it.”
“Verbally!”
“And I didn’t have a good comeback! So.”
Eddie stuck his tongue out, punctuating the gesture by blowing a raspberry.
“Hey Eds.”
“Yes lint-for-brains?”
“Hey seriously.” Richie frowned.
“What seriously.”
“Have you been home since the other day?”
Eddie decided to pay particularly close attention to that part of the song.
“Eds.”
“Drop it, Richie.” Eddie conceded after the song faded.
“Not even going to give me an answer?”
“I said-”
“Yeah, I heard. You speak, I hear, that’s how it always fuckin’ goes with us. Now speak what I’m asking to hear, Eddie.” He sat up a little, supporting his midsection with his arms so he could watch Eddie’s expression from above. He was refusing to make eye contact with him, but Richie could see the gears turning in his mind.
“I have. A couple times. Mostly when she’s not home. We’ve been exchanging notes.”
“There, was that so hard?”
“I just don’t want to discuss it, dipshit.”
“Well, I got that, but I would like to know whether or not I’m harboring a fugitive.”
Eddie sighed and turned to look at him, finally.
“Fair.”
“Do you need to go home soon?”
“Probably,” Eddie threw his hands up to cover his face. “But- not till this album is over. You want me to listen to it.”
Richie beamed, moving to hover over Eddie before letting his arms go slack under him, effectively dropping his body weight on the other boy’s chest.
“You’d do that for little old me?” Richie crooned, wrapping his arms around Eddie and squeezing.
“Jesus- yes, Christ- can’t leave now, could I?” He laughed, wriggling in Richie’s grasp.
“Nope, you’re stuck all the way through Lap of the Gods Revisited.”
“Revisited?!” They laughed, one song ending and the music picking up again with something much moodier.
They stayed like that, songs bleeding into each other, neither making a move to detach or address their current position. At some point Eddie’s hands came to rest on Richie’s back, loosely fiddling with the hem of his shirt.
The first side of the album finished, silence following the click of the turntable as it stopped. Still, neither boy moved. After some time, Richie finally took a deep breath and spoke.
“I should go flip it.”
“Yeah. You should.”
They moved minutely, barely shifting their placements enough to look at each other, their faces dangerously close. That same electricity from a few days ago was back in force, that live wire suddenly alight and pulling tight between them. An inordinate amount of time passed while they just stared, drinking in each other’s faces like patrons in a museum exhibit.
Richie was the first to gather his senses.
“I’ll go, uh-” He started eloquently. “I’m gonna, uh, flip it.” He nodded, more so to himself before detangling from Eddie and eventually standing up.
“Right. Yeah.” Eddie agreed, slowly sitting up. “I’m going to- uh- use the restroom.” He said quietly before nervously ducking out of the room.
When he reached the bathroom, he locked the door behind himself and promptly went for the sink, splashing cold water onto his face and shaking his head. Hundreds upon hundreds of variations of the same thought swam in a frenzy in his head, and more than anything he wanted them to be silenced. For weeks, maybe months, maybe years, if he’s honest, he’s been pushing all those swarming flies of his frightening truth out open windows and smashing them with fly swatters. But denial always fills bottles not bottomless, and now it was spilling over, and for the first time in his life perhaps, Eddie is considering letting the honesty pour.
He looked at himself in the mirror, hoping a seconds pep-talk might keep him from chickening out. But just as he made to speak, that fear was back, that lightning strike of wrong and danger, accompanied by a violent purple tinge to everything in his vision. And just as there wasn’t all the times before, a reason why did not present itself; Eddie just knew.
Richie.
He unlocked the door so swiftly he’s a little afraid he’s broken it, but he doesn’t stop to assess the damage. He threw the door open and dashed down the hall in a daze, pervasive fear making it hard for him to move with clarity.
He got to Richie’s room, hands flying to turn the knob, when his heart stopped dead in its tracks.
The door was locked.
______________________________________________________________
authors notes: +okay i know its terrible writing practice to just... not italicize things that you’re supposed to but i just CANNOT be bothered to go back through and redo all my italicizing (bc when i copy paste from google docs to here it just doesn’t? keep my italics??) so here’s how its gonna be, if u want the Fancy version read on ao3. so anyways! guess who’s back lmao. it’s been a wild few months to say the least but i just want to point out i have been working on this for a year and this is technically my tenth chapter of it written. so go me i guess? jesus im slow. next time will be a special chapter!! so stay tuned.
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