yourtigerlily

[yourtigerlily]

jealousy, jealousy

2007. it's a rainy day when Patrick and Richie began something that they are not supposed to. (I am DelilahAndTheUnderdogs on AO3, SISSIBVG on Wattpad, I have another tumblr ff account ELIFANFICTION. This one it's just my PC account) tw: cigarettes, weed, death, verbal abuse, mental health, alcohol, swearing (and getting creative about it), toxic behaviour, blood. it's an AU and Free Form fanfiction, don't like, don't read. dead dove: don't eat.

a necessary author note 

so, ugh, usually I don't post notices/notes for fanfictions.

but this time i do because i want to be sincere with you all.

when i first was intrigued by patrichie, it was in the movies’ universe, especially the first installment of the 2017/2019 two part movies. while with henry and bill i always kind of shipped them in the book too, in the first movie i felt between Patrick and Richie a tension, much more that in the book.

as for Patrick (and Henry tbh), in the book he plays the part as the “evil homosexuals” while Richie (and Eddie) is more like scared and “in the closet” homosexual trope because let's face it: in  the book they are written as children of their time, especially IT was wrote in the 80s and for the most part set in the 50s. 

Patrick is an abusive, who deserves nothing but death, in the books. Richie, in the books, copes with the fact that his mom wanted a girl with his passion with stand up comedy and ventriloquism. the book really touch many dark human sides, that's intriguing yet disturbing, like a lot. i do not recommend reading it during classes at 15. lmao, anyway.

at that time, it was different: expressing emotions, toxic masculinity and unhealthy standards in society (and Beverly faced this issue greatly, for the pressure to fit conventionally beauty standards and what meant to be a girl, set by a machist society — i mean, Eddie’s mom in the book doesn't like the fact that his son is friends with a girl, who she think is a slut, just because Be befriended boys) and racism, most of them are racist, the Bower's Gang predominantly and are loud about that, because it was accepted and normalized (hopefully today it's less but racism is still here) and people like Eddie's mom (still her lmao) thought it was disgusting to be friends’ with a black kid like Mike which honestly is the most pure and innocent kid on earth yet people cannot get pass on his skin colour. 

in conclusion, this is an AU but disturbing things will be there, though. i set it in the early 00s which was not the brightest time in our society, or its highlight because let's face it: I was a  pre-teen in the early 00s, so many traumas for me, and it's really long to fully unpack. here we are: me channeling my experiences through those characters which are really distant yet i can relate the most (Richie in particular).

enjoy this journey with me ~

weight is on my back

September 1st, 2007

A jet-black, straight haired boy was smoking a Malboro, in Derry Middle School's empty parking lot. Patrick Hockstetter was fazed, headphones on, Teenagers by My Chemical Romance playing. Derry was still sleeping. He looked eerily calm, on the verge of mass murdering, it seemed. It was not the case but not that far from truth, most days. He was simply angry. He wanted to scream, his voice stuck in his guts. His unhappiness was in his veins.

And there he was, Richard Tozier. A chihuahua trying to imitate a bulldog, Patrick thought. 

His blue eyes wandered on Richard's face. Why is he so magnetic for? 

He repressed himself. Suddenly, Henry greeted him with his annoying voice: «what’s up, fag?» He hated that word with a passion. He could not go against Henry because yes, his voice might be annoying but he's physically aggressive. Who isn't calling people with that word, meaning it as a slur? It's 2007, not many things changed from the 90s. He was born in 1991 and was four in 1995, when, fun fact, Richard was born. He remembers things, from that time. He doesn't want to, honestly. His dad beating him up senseless. Or finding himself killing his brother. 

He shooed away these thoughts, in the distant part of his brain. When Patrick was still distracted, he acknowledged Richard Tozier, nicknamed by many students (and teachers) Trashmouth.

Richard was awkward and talkative at the same time. Richard watched SNL way to much since he memorized by heart Bill Harder’s repertoire. especially, Vinny Vedecci and his italian gibberish.

Trashmouth reminded him Harry Potter, mostly the body size, the glasses and the talk-back attitude.

His cigarette was slowly burning in his right hand while looking at the short boy, absentmindedly.

«Let’s go» said Patrick, slapping Henry’s thigh «Nelson, first period, right?» said Belch «can we just skip classes? a smoke a joint?» then asked.

Patrick replied: «why not» while eyeing Henry, seeking his approval.

Every student went to their class. The courtyard went creepily silent. They moved around the building and Patrick went straight to his favourite spot, the gym. The other three did not care were he was, they went downtown, all together. 

The rain started to pour down ferociously, a growing mud smell went to Patrick nostrils. Something dangerous this way comes, he thought. He saw Richard standing there, behind the brown wall, under the gym canopy. He was smoking a cigarette and when the shorter guy saw Patrick, panicked a: «Oh fucking shit, not you» trying to run away. Patrick bloocked him under his body and shushed his mouth with his wide chalk-like hands. 

Patrick was dead serious when he whispered: «Now, Richard, shut the fuck up or I'll will kill you.» he made a brief pause, checking if the other three boys followed him but no, the were not there «or I can spare you from humiliation. There are Henry, Belch and Vic with me. You must not make a sound. Understand?» Trashmouth nodded, eagerly. «Or I swear to that fucking God, you'll never see the light again.» Patrick felt dizzy for a moment. Richard's heat was overwhelming. He removed his hand from the shorter boy's mouth and he distanced his boy for few inches.

«You are fucking insane, you know that, right Hockstetter?» said Richard with a glim in his eyes. 

«I know, Tozier» said the older one, lighting his joint «and you know that you are not safe with me, right?»

«Call me Richie» the curly haired one said, still smoking «and I don't care, honestly. If you want to excuse me, Hockstetter, can we make this important discussion in the gym?» 

They both tossed away whatever they were smoking and Patrick broke into the structure with Richie. The latter took Patrick's hand and he dragged him into the locker room. 

«Kiss me» said Richie, straightforward.

Patrick satisfied his request with an enormous pleasure: he put his lips on Richie's and began to devour him in seconds. Hands were traveling on almost naked bodies and Patrick realised that he was into Richie and his mischievous yet magmatic gaze, all this time. He tighten his huge hands on the other boy's curly hair while still deeply kissing him, tounge and all. 

HE'S MINE, MINE, MINE, FINALLY MINE, NOT EDDIE'S BUT MINE, his brain frantically shouted. 

«We should go back» said Patrick between his breath.

«Yeah, I think so» replied Richie, stealing another kiss. 

Their faces were still red when they dressed themselves. «Where have you been, Mr. Hockstetter?» said Mrs Orson when Patrick sat down. «I left my lunch at home, Ma’am» he lied. Mrs Orson wanted to believe him and she did. Patrick didn't know what to think when he came back to class, as confused as he was yet wanted more. Richie wrong-feet him. Big time. That feeling was new and dangerous. 

Anyway, Patrick always liked the taste of blood, after all.