When you faked sleeping just to be with ur bestfriend that you're in love with.
Richie: *internal happy lesbian noises*
Monterey Bay Aquarium

Discoholic đȘ©

pixel skylines
we're not kids anymore.
Aqua Utopiaïœæ”·ăźćșă§èšæ¶ă玥ă
sheepfilms
cherry valley forever
Mike Driver

Love Begins
taylor price
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
wallacepolsom
đȘŒ
Fai_Ryy

Janaina Medeiros
Claire Keane
Misplaced Lens Cap
official daine visual archive
art blog(derogatory)
macklin celebrini has autism
seen from Uzbekistan

seen from Singapore

seen from Venezuela

seen from Singapore

seen from United States

seen from Bangladesh
seen from Nepal
seen from Canada
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Mexico
seen from Kenya

seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from Brazil

seen from El Salvador

seen from Costa Rica

seen from United States
@golden-kaspbrak
When you faked sleeping just to be with ur bestfriend that you're in love with.
Richie: *internal happy lesbian noises*
stupid teens đđ
Laws of Attraction: Reddie
a Reddie fanfiction
Premise: Eighth grader Eddie Kaspbrak is devastated when he is paired up with Richie Tozier for the annual science fair partners project, convinced Richie is by far the most annoying person he knows. However, the more time Eddie finds himself spending with Richie, heâs not quite sure if itâs hatred slowly accumulating inside of him, or a dreaded infatuation.
âYouâve got to be kidding me,â Eddie glared at his teacher. âRichie Tozier?â
âHeâs a bit scatterbrained, yes, but heâs a bright young man. Iâm sure youâll come up with something great,â she smiled back cheerily.
âI canât do my science fair project with Richie!â Eddie argued. âHeâll puke all over it or accidentally sit on it or something!â
âCalm your tits, Eds,â Richie rolled his eyes behind him. âIâm sure weâll make a great baking soda volcano.â
âYouâre not allowed to do baking soda volcanoes anymore, Mr. Tozier. Youâre in the eighth grade,â their teacher sighed. âBut yes, Iâm sure you will come up with something great in the next two months.â
It was obligatory for eighth graders to enter in the school science fair for a semester grade, and even more dreadfully required that they work alongside a randomly designated partner. Eddie trudged back to his desk, unsatisfied as ever with his newly assigned science fair partner. It was complete bullshit that they didnât get to choose their own partners, but the teacher reasoned that it gave them an opportunity to learn to collaborate with different minded people and to get to know a fellow classmate better.
However, Eddie would argue that he knew Richie plenty. Sure, they were friends, but he would have never been Eddieâs first pick for anything academically related. He would have leapt at the opportunity to spend the two months constructing a Rube Goldberg with Bill or analyzing waves of electricity with Stan. He wouldâve even spent grueling hours observing the psychological effects of contagious yawning with Bev instead of being paired up with the Trashmouth. Sure, Richie got decent grades, but he wasnât amazingly academically gifted either. He was a cheater, and a procrastinator, and not at all the type of person to pick up his slack in group projects. Eddie might as well have been on his own.
âSo I think we can both agree Iâll probably be doing a good chunk, if not all of the work on this,â Eddie narrowed his eyes at Richie as they migrated to their next class.
âDonât get so grumpy, Eddie Spaghetti,â Richie insisted. âIâd be more than happy to put the poster board together or give the presentation.â
âYeah but you donât want to do any actual work,â Eddie pointed out. âI bet you donât even have an idea yet.â
âSure I do,â Richie counteracted.
âLike what?â the smaller boy eyed, doubtful.
âI told you, baking soda volcano. Just cause my idea wasnât allowed doesnât mean I didnât have one,â he shrugged.
âYouâre impossible,â Eddie groaned.
âCome over to my house afterschool and weâll figure something out,â Richie reassured.
âFine,â Eddie relented.
The entire lunch period was spent with everyone complaining about their science fair partners. Almost everyone was screwed over, except for Mike, who luckily got paired up with Stan. Poor Bill was paired up with someone he didnât even know, and Ben was with a kid who pretty much got straight Fâs. Beverly was with a jock who obviously wouldnât lift a finger, and Eddie was with, well, Richie.
âItâs not going to be nearly as bad as you think it is,â Richie kept insisting, sipping on an apple juice box. âYouâre gonna thank me when you get an A on this.â
âOh yeah,â Eddie rolled his eyes. âHell, we might even win the whole fair, right?â
âEddie,â Bev put a hand on his shoulder. âCome on, donât get so hung up on it. At least itâs someone you know!â
âSomeone I wish I didnât know,â Eddie grumbled.
After a quick stop at his place to tell his mother where he would be, Eddie walked over to Richieâs house, feeling anxious as ever. Not only was Richie a shitty partner for school projects, but he was just a shitty person to be around in general. He constantly called Eddie annoying nicknames, poked fun at him whenever the opportunity, cursed like a sailor, and had absolutely no understanding of personal space or inside voices. Out of everyone in the friend group, hands down, Richie Tozier annoyed the shit out of Eddie the most.
âAh! I knew youâd show up,â the obnoxiously loud boy grinned a toothy smile when he opened the door, face to face with Kaspbrak.
âWhenâs the last time you cleaned your room?â Eddie completely ignored his greeting, face crinkling up at the wretched smell of body odor. He carefully maneuvered his way through the scattered dirty laundry and several piles of comic books littering the floor of Richieâs bedroom. Pink Floyd was playing through a boombox on the nightstand and an array of chips and soda cans lined the shelves. Eddie hadnât been in Richieâs room since the last time Richie hosted the friend group sleepover, which mustâve been months ago. Usually they all went to Billâs place, or even Stanâs on occasion.
âI only clean my room if my mom makes me,â Richie replied. âI have a right to fill my space with my own shit.â
âYeah and you should have a right to be able to see your own carpeting too,â Eddie quipped, trying to find another place to step as he made his way to the bed for a seat.
âWhatever, Spaghetti,â Richie ignored his complaints. He turned down the volume on the boombox before handing Eddie a piece of paper, messy handwriting displaying a list of science fair ideas.
âWhatâs this?â
âA bunch of ideas we can use.â
âTheyâre all stupid.â
âYeah cause theyâve all been done before,â Richie explained, rolling his eyes. âI asked a couple people what their older siblings did.â
âWe canât just steal someone elseâs idea!â Eddie groaned. âThe teacherâs definitely going to know.â
âWe can say we came up with it ourselves and itâs just a coincidence,â Richie offered.
âIâm not copying someone else,â Eddie sighed. âThatâs ridiculous.â
âOkay well then what big grand wonderful idea did you come up with?â Richie challenged.
Eddieâs face crinkled up, trying to think of something for a second, and Richie was about to smirk proudly at his defeat before Eddie finally settled on something. âRemember how we learned about the density of a solution a couple units ago?â the smaller boy began and Richie groaned.
âOh god, you mean to tell me youâre actually taking this thing seriously?â
âItâs for a grade, Richie!â
âDoesnât mean you have to be the next Galileo.â
âShut up, asshole,â Eddie snapped. âLook, thereâs this experiment where you can measure the buoyancy of an egg depending on the density of the water in a glass. If we add salt then the egg will float more because the density will change-â
âYou want to float eggs,â Richie narrowed his eyes. âI donât think Iâve ever heard of a more boring idea than that.â
âLook,â Eddie huffed. âI can do the thing by myself if you want, but donât count on me giving you an ounce of credit.â
âNo, look I want to help,â Richie insisted, being semi-serious this time, jokes aside. âI just, I donât know. Iâm not really good at the science stuff, okay, Eds? JustâŠâ He sighed, looking half helpless and half disappointed. âIf you tell me what to do, then I can do it. I can get materials or write things down or-â
âYouâre broke and your handwriting looks like chicken shit,â Eddie joked. âBut yeah, I can find some stuff for you to do.â
âThanks,â Richie smiled, relieved. âUh, so this egg thing? Whatâs your hypothesis?â
Eddie didnât know if Richie was just sick of arguing or finally realized how much a good grade could help his report card, but he was thankful he was finally on board. The two spent the rest of the evening writing up a procedure and discussing the different variables to the experiment, Richie paying attention and trying his best to understand the mechanics of the entire operation.
They didnât know when, but both began to slowly feel tired, dreary eyelids and occasional yawns, to the point where Richie started to rest his head on Eddieâs shoulder as he wrote, eyes fixated on how his fingers wrapped around the pencil, watching the graphite create letters into words on the notebook paper. His eyelids began to get heavy, closing, and Eddie began to write slower and slower, his own eyes fluttering shut. Somehow, Richie slid down onto Eddieâs lap, to where the two boys had dozed off. âRichie?â there was a knock on the door that jolted them both awake, both of them checking their surroundings, startled and surprised. Richie awkwardly clambered himself up off of Eddie, the two turning bright red with embarrassment. âRichie? Itâs time for dinner.â
âUh-â Richie fumbled for words to respond with. âA-alright. Eddieâs with me, can he stay for dinner?â
âIf he phones his mother and she says itâs okay,â Mrs. Tozier responded.
âOh shit,â Eddieâs face fell simply at the thought. âI told my mom I would only be gone an hour or two Iâm such an idiot-â He felt his chest tighten, anxiety rush to his head, eyes start to get blurry.
âWoah, woah, hold on there Eds, take a breath,â Richie comforted. âYouâll be okay, just tell her you lost track of time.â
âI-I donât know she might be really mad,â Eddie still felt flustered, starting to reach for his inhaler, glancing at Richie, hesitant.
âItâs alright,â Richie insisted. âYouâre okay. Iâll tell my mom. Maybe we can catch up tomorrow or something?â
âOkay⊠Yeah,â Eddie nodded, strangely feeling his anxiety slowly start to fade. Richie was right. Everything would be fine. They had time. His mom would hopefully understand. He felt his hand fall from his pocket, changing his mind on using the inhaler. âIâll see you tomorrow, Richie.â
The next day at school, Eddie tried to focus, but his mind kept tormenting him about how the hell he ended up dozing off in Richie Tozierâs bed. He was sure they mustâve both been exhausted from school work and focusing too much on the project, but at the same time, he was insistent on the fact that something mustâve possessed him. Never in his life would he have ever found himself fall peacefully to sleep with Richie fucking Tozier laying on top of him, in his smelly messy room much less. But deep down, the part that Eddie wanted to disregard the most, was that he liked it. Eddie had never really been that close to anyone before, well, alone. Sometimes their friends would lean their heads on each othersâ shoulders or all collapse onto a bed or sofa in one huge dog pile hug, but never for that long, and never forâŠÂ
âYou okay, Eddie?â Stan nudged him in the arm. âYou look a little lost for someone whoâs been going to this school for half a year now.â
âYeah Iâm fine,â Eddie blinked himself out of his daydream, gravitating him and his lunch tray towards the table where the rest sat.
âHey losers!â Richie loudly greeted, slapping his lunch tray down onto the table, fries falling off the sides.
âJesus Richie, do you have a mute button or something?â Stan glared at him. âIâm sure the whole cafeteria can hear you.â
âY-y-yeah R-Richie,â Bill narrowed his eyes. âItâs l-like thereâs a m-m-megaphone attached to your m-mouth.â
âYouâre all just jealous youâre not nearly as amusing and entertaining as I am,â Richie teased and Bev laughed.
âMore like boisterous, explicit, and obnoxious,â she corrected to his dismay.
âHeâs called Trashmouth for a reason,â Stan reminded.
âAnyways, how are all of your science projects going?â Ben wondered.
âStan and I havenât started yet, but Iâm sure weâll come up with an idea soon,â Mike gave a smile to Stan, who nodded.
âProbably something regarding physics,â he added.
âHow about you and Richie?â Bev prodded Eddie. âI heard you were going over to work on it last night?â
âWeâre floating eggs,â Richie announced. Eddie looked at him, ready for a dumb joke or an inappropriate punchline that mocked the idea, but nothing followed. He was almost surprised.
âThe density and buoyancy experiment,â Stan recognized. âNice.â
The curly haired boy turned towards Eddie, nudging the frame of his glasses up the bridge of his nose. âWe can work on it again today afterschool if youâd like,â Richie offered. âOr uh, if you had something else going on thatâs totally cool-â
âNo Iâm down,â Eddie replied. He let out a small laugh. âIâm actually surprised how invested you are in the project. Thought maybe youâd ditch to go do something else.â
âOh shit, youâre right, I totally forgot I have plans tonight,â Richie apologized. âNow I remember. I was actually going over to your place.â
âMy place?â Eddie raised an eyebrow. âWhy the hell would you come over to my place? You know how my mom is.â
âOh believe me, I know how she is,â Richie grinned. âGoing to get to know how she is again when I come over and fuck her tonight.â
âBeep, beep Richie,â Stan groaned.
âW-we donât want to h-h-hear about you fucking Eddieâs m-m-mom,â Bill shook his head. âN-not when Iâm e-e-eating anyways.â
âCome on,â Richie pleaded. âYou know Mrs. K loves me. Me and my giant-â
The bell rang as if perfect timing and all of them shook their heads despite holding back chuckles. âIâll see you after school Richie,â Eddie sighed, using a bit more emphasis in his following statement. âAt your place. Not mine.â
That evening Eddie flopped onto the end of Richieâs bed, shoving his backpack off his shoulder and onto to the ground, sighing in exhaustion before looking up at a pondering Richie. âHey, sorry I fell asleep on you yesterday, I was really tired,â he apologized, looking away towards the window. âI didnât want to mention anything at school cause I knew the others would-â
âYeah youâre fine,â Eddie blushed, accidentally cutting him off. âI was really tired too.â
âThat my friend, is why I got us these!â Richie held up two energy drinks and the hypochondriac felt his stomach flip.
âNo,â Eddie shook his head, starting to fling his arms around as he spoke. âNononono, nope, those are like, pure sugar and caffeine. Those can kill you, theyâll give you heart attacks, did you know that there was a study on the effect of energy drinks on the youth and they-â
âWould you stop listening to everything your mother says and just drink it?â Richie groaned. âItâll keep you awake, itâs like coffee.â
âPshhh t-that is nothing like coffee,â Eddie sputtered. âThatâll give you a seizure with just one sip, itâll probably-â
âSuit yourself,â Richie rolled his eyes as he cut him off once again. âI drink them all the time.â
âYouâre not even old enough to have those your heartâs gonna-â
âCan you just shut up about health for once and do something fun? Like a normal kid? You know?â
Eddie pressed his lips together, almost angry. âWhat? Ride my bike recklessly and scratch up my knees and eat so much sugar I start seeing stars?â
âThatâs not what Iâm saying,â Richie sighed. âIâm just saying you donât do anything fun.â
âI donât do anything fun?â Eddie scoffed. âI jumped off the rock quarry with you and-â
âExactly,â Richie pointed out. âWe all jumped off the rock quarry. It doesnât make you special.â
âFine,â Eddie huffed, reaching out for an energy drink. âI can be fun.â
âSureeeâŠâ Richie drew out, nodding slowly, eyes fixated on the smaller boy struggling to pop open the lid of the can. âSure you arenât going to regret that? You know? Youâre going to have your heart beat its way out of your ribcage or whatever?â
âWeâll find out,â Eddie challenged. âIf I collapse onto the floor with foam spilling out my mouth I blame you.â
âBy all means, be my guest. It would be an honor to kill you,â Richie replied sarcastically, watching as Eddie took a sip. âMark my words, Spaghetti, nothing is gonna happen.â
âUh huh,â Eddie narrowed his eyes and cringed at the taste, lips puckering up and nose crinkling. âThat tastes miserable.â
âItâs taurine. Thatâs nothing Eds,â Richie laughed, taking a swig of his own. âYou should taste whiskey.â
âGod no,â Eddie shook his head. âThat shitâs poison.â
âStealing sips from my momâs cabinet hasnât killed me yet,â Richie smirked and Eddie groaned.
âWhatever, letâs get back to this science experiment.â
âAlright, what are we going to do today? I told my mom to get some eggs.â
âReally?â
âWell yeah, thatâs what the whole thingâs about, isnât it?â
âThen maybe we can actually start tests today. Youâve got salt, donât you?â
The two boys cleared off a table and gathered some of the equipment, cups and salt and the eggs from the fridge, Eddie seemingly more jittery by the second. Richie seemed strangely excited for something school related, offering to help out and write down measurements and observations in the notebook, Eddie instructing him on how everything would go down. But minute by minute, Eddie felt his heartbeat picking up, eyes darting around the room, fingers a bit tingly. He pretended to ignore it, trying not to look like a total pussy in front of his thrill seeking, constantly daring, show off of a friend, but he felt it. Whatever sugar and caffeine concoction Richie had given him, it was definitely coursing through his bloodstream at full speed, and he could feel it.
âReady to drop them in?â Richie asked.
âHuh?â Eddie tried to concentrate, looking at the mess of curly hair, smudged lenses, brown eyes, and chapped lips in front of him that was Richie Tozier. âOh yeah, yeah go for it.â
âReally, Eds?â Richie almost laughed. âYou want the clumsiest of the two of us to be handling the eggs? Nah, I think Iâm gonna leave that up to you.â
âI donât know, Richie,â he began to fumble with the buttons on his pastel colored polo, getting nervous. âI feel kinda jittery, I donât want to fuck it up.â
âItâs an experiment,â Richie reminded. âIf something goes wrong we just do it again, remember? Like, three trials or something?â
âY-yeah, yeah,â Eddie shook his head. âAlright.â
He carefully picked up an egg, heart racing with nervousness as Richieâs eyes were practically glued on him. It made his hands clammy and sweaty, so he took a deep breath, trying his best not to drop it. âDonât break it, dumbass,â Richie whispered and Eddie whipped around, flustered.
âYou arenât helping!â he snapped, holding the egg carefully with both hands, glaring at his partner. âWould you stop with the stupid comments?â
âI just donât want you to drop it.â
âWell duh, I know that, you donât have to say it, blabbermouth.â
âOkay, sassypants.â
âAnd could you quit staring at me too? I feel like youâre a goldfish or something, eyes practically bulging out of your face.â
âYou wanna see my eyes bulge out of my face, huh Eds?â Richie widened his eyes almost creepily and Eddie pretended to gag disgustedly, turning his back and focusing on the cups of salt water.
âJust shut your face, wonât you? Iâm trying to get something done,â Eddie retorted.
âAll Iâm saying is you better be careful before Humpty Dumpty takes a big fall,â Richie snorted and Eddie huffed, plopping the egg in the water before turning around. âSee? Humpty Dumptyâs all well and fine, going for a little swim-â
âWe are not naming the eggs,â he snapped.
âOf course we are,â Richie rolled his eyes. âThe one in the regular water is Humpty Dumpty but the one in the salt water can be you.â
âWhy the hell would the egg in the salt water be named after me?â
âCause youâre pretty salty yourself.â
âWould you please just shut the fuck up for once?â
âNah, then I wouldnât get to mess with you!â Richie chuckled, tousling Eddieâs hair into a mess, making him swat Richieâs hand away.
âGod, youâre so fucking annoying,â Eddie grumbled under his breath.
âAm I? Am I really, Eds?â Richie got all up in his face, making him twice as irritated. âCause youâre pretty fucking adorable when youâre all riled up.â
âAdorable, huh?â he narrowed his eyes, pressing his lips together, bitterly glaring at those dark brown eyes behind the crooked glasses. âWhy the fuck would I be adorable?â
âYour little face scrunches up and your cheeks get super red and rosy and your voice gets really squeaky, you pretend to be all mad and scary but youâre just a little itty bitty Eddie Spaghetti,â Richie sighed, smiling down at him only to Eddieâs disgust. âI could never be scared of you.â He reached to pinch his cheeks and Eddie swatted his hand away again, grumbling. âSee? Cute, cute, cute.â
âStop messing with me, Richie,â Eddie tried to bat away his grabby hands, face rising to a blush. He couldnât possibly be cute. He was annoyed, and mad, and frustrated, he imagined he probably looked like something like Heat Miser from A Year Without Santa Claus. Then again, as he tuned out Richie singing some stupid sappy song about spaghetti, he thought to himself that he couldnât ever remember anyone else calling him cute. Except maybe Beverly jokingly, after the time he tried on one of her ugly Christmas sweaters for a party. âIâm not cute, Iâm just small and easy to pick on.â
âNah, see, thatâs what makes you so cute, Eds,â Richie insisted. âAlways fighting me and threatening to fight me.â He sighed and flopped himself over on the couch. âGoddamn sexy.â
âThatâs what constitutes someone as attractive nowadays?â Eddie raised an eyebrow suspiciously, walking away from the table with the egg experiment and towards Richie on the couch, peering over the arm to look at him. âBowers threatens to kick your ass everyday, I donât see you calling him adorable.â
âPshhhhh,â Richie rolled his eyes. âNot what I meant, dummy.â
âLiterally how is your reasoning any different?â
âYouâre you, dumbass. Bowers? Heâs like- heâs like if Oscar the Grouch had sex with that girl from the Exorcist.â
Eddie had to stifle a laugh himself, shaking his head. âYou make no sense sometimes, you know that?â
âI think I make perfectly fine sense to myself,â Richie shrugged, looking up at Eddie from the sofa, making him feel some weird type of way.
The smaller boy stared down at him, studying the way his messy curls fell in front of his face, how his thick glasses made his eyes seem bigger than they really were, how his lips rested in an unamused pout whenever he wasnât blabbering on about something senseless. âIâd almost think you were cute too if you werenât such a goddamn idiot,â Eddie almost wanted to say aloud, but kept himself quiet for the sake of his own dignity. If Richie ever caught wind of Eddie thinking he was cute, heâd never let the boy live it down. âWhatever,â Eddie muttered instead, stepping away from the couch and turning back to work on the science project, still jittery and shaky from all the caffeine.
Eddieâs mother urged him to stay home and not to stress too much about the science project, so the next week Eddie didnât go home with Richie afterschool. Instead, he started organizing their data and writing out the conclusions on his own, occasionally showing Richie in their science class. But he missed spending time with him, as annoying as he could be. It was nice to be able to spend time with someone, to work on something together, or maybe just simply to be together. Unless Eddie was with the losers, Eddie wasnât doing much of anything at all. His mother didnât usually let him go out, but at the same time, where else would he go? Occasionally he would visit Billâs house and build race car tracks for their Hot Wheels or make flashcards at study table with Stan, but that was about it.
âWould you ever want to, I dunno, just hang out maybe?â Eddie swallowed nervously as he stood by Richieâs locker afterschool, throat constricting with every word. He slipped his hand into his fanny pack, running his fingers over his inhaler, ready to take a puff the moment Richie spurted out some stupid joke.
âSure,â Richie shrugged to Eddieâs surprise, making him raise an eyebrow, fingers falling to his side.
âWait really?â Eddie double checked.
âWell yeah,â Richie closed his locker, turning around to face him. âAll this science stuff is pretty lame, Iâd much rather watch a movie or read comics.â
âBut with me?â Eddie still felt hesitant.
âYouâre not half as boring as you think you are, Eds,â the taller boy reassured, poking him in the cheek to his disapproval. âOf course. Did you mean like today or?â
âItâs Friday so my mom assumed Iâd be out with you guys but nobody said anything at lunch today soâŠâ
âSo you want to go on a date with me.â
âWh-what?!?! No. No, not at all I never said-â
âIâm just messing with you, dummy. Of course we can hang out.â
âYouâre making me think twice about it.â
âOh shut up, Spaghetti. Câmon. We can watch movies and eat all the junk food Mrs. K deprives you of, really fatten you up,â Richie slugged him on the shoulder. âWe can watch The Lost Boys. You havenât seen that one yet, right?â
âYeah cause itâs rated R! My mom wonât let me watch that,â Eddie insisted.
âWell your mommy isnât coming tonight, is she?â he teased. âHey, I think youâd like it. Itâs got vampires.â
âWhatever, Iâm in.â
The two boys sat on the sofa in front of the television, movie credits rolling on the screen, a bowl of popcorn, a bag of potato chips, and various candies scattered between them, soda cans on the carpet and the lights turned off because Richie had sworn it would make the movie ten times cooler or something like that. Eddie didnât know if it was cause it was late, or the lights were off and he was nervous, or if he was just plain stupid, but he couldnât help but hyperanalyze every single instance in which he interacted with Richie that night. The time their fingers brushed against each other when they both reached for popcorn in the bowl. Or when something funny would happen in the movie and Richie always seemed to glance at him just to see a reaction. It was like Eddie was so stupidly obsessed with everything Richie did, and he couldnât tell if it was cause he hated him so much or maybe, maybe if he secretly was dying to know everything about him. He couldnât tell why though. Richie had always annoyed him for the longest time, but it was usually due to him being the easiest to pick on in the group, right? He wouldnât give him all the attention of pestering and flirting and irritating unless Eddie was just the easiest to get a ruse out ofâŠÂ
âHey Eds,â Richie turned off the television and looked at his friend. âHow come you never talk about girls?â
âHuh?â caught off guard by the question, Eddie seemed confused.
âYou never talk about girls. Benâs always writing cheesy ass poetry and Billâs usually giving Bev these stupid heart eyes, I donât know. It just seems strange you havenât said anything about anyone by now. Donât you have your eye on somebody?â
âDonât you?â he snorted.
âIâve got two eyes, my beloved Eddie Spaghetti, and both of them are on you.â
âBoy am I flattered.â
âNo really, youâre adorable.â
âUh huh. Câmon, spill it, Richie. We all know youâre probably head over heels for some chick at school since it seems like you canât talk about anything but boners and getting blowed half of the time weâre at lunch.â
âYou already know Iâve got a lady.â
âExactly. But why donât you tell anyone who it is?â
âLast I checked, I tell everyone who she is, especially you. Donât you know? Me and your mom have been going steady for at least a year now-â
âJesus Christ Richie, I canât believe I fucking fell for that.â
âI knew it would work. It always does. Youâre so goddamn gullible.â
âWhatever. Youâre stupid.â
âNah, but youâre cute.â
âSure I am.â
âYou are, Eds. Look at your little baby face, how could anyone resist that?â
âYouâre so annoying sometimes.â
âOh I know. One of my many talents.â
The two boys never spoke about having crushes after that. Eddie was pretty convinced it would just end up being counterproductive.
Monday at school, Bev seemed to be the first one at the lunch table, and when Eddie sat down, she eyed him strangely. âI heard a rumor you slept over at Richieâs on Friday. Willingly. Almost voluntarily. Without any science fair business involved.â
âSo what?â
âThe last time you ever voluntarily hung out with Richie despite being forced was, hold on let me check⊠Never,â Stan quipped, sitting down at the table after having eavesdropped on the conversation.
âAm I not allowed to hang out with one of my friends?â Eddie retorted.
âYou never hang out with Richie, or call him your friend, thatâs all Iâm saying,â Stan pointed out. âYou hate his guts.â
âOr at least you did,â Bev smirked. âI think youâre taking a liking to him. Maybe a bit too much.â
âWhat?â Eddie cried. âWhat the hell are you trying to say?â
âIâm just saying, itâs a little suspicious how much time youâve been spending together. Science partners or not,â she shrugged.
âI do not like Richie heâs-â Eddie struggled to find an insult for the first time in his whole life. âHeâs- uh, heâs gross.â
âGross,â Stan repeated flatly, giving an unamused look. âReally? Out of all of the words in your vocabulary, you choose gross to describe the abomination that is Richie Tozier?â
Eddie shot him a glare as Richie approached the table, never failing to announce his presence with a godawful greeting. âWhatâs up, fuckers?â
Days passed by before Eddie found himself at Richieâs house once again, the two of them running a second trial of the egg experiment, writing down notes and arguing about specifications. âI just think that maybe we could expound upon the experiment if we maybe decided to try it with different eggs,â Richie persisted. âLike brown eggs.â
âHow is that even relevant to what weâre doing?â Eddie sputtered, trying to ignore the fact that Richie was wearing a new Hawaiian shirt today. He usually wore his pink or white one, but today he was sporting a tacky blue one. Eddie only ever noticed because, well, as much as he hated to admit it, he was always around Richie at this point. He wasnât sure if the realization was something to be proud of, but he had accepted it.
âMaybe the color of the egg has something to do with its buoyancy, I donât know,â Richie shrugged and Eddie narrowed his eyes.
âSeriously?â he scoffed, almost embarrassed that Richie was that stupid.Â
âI d-donât k-know I was just s-suggesting,â Richieâs stuttering stumbled off into an unintelligible mumble.
âOkay B-B-B-Bill,â Eddie teased and Richie looked towards the floor, face red. The smaller boy glanced at him, confused. âOh god Richie, Iâm sorry I didnât-â Eddieâs face fell. âI didnât mean to hurt you I was just teasing.â
âI know,â Richie forced a smile, trying to shrug it off.
âI justâŠâ Eddie frowned, scratching the back of his head, looking at Richie apologetically. âI didnât know this project really meant that much to you.â
âI mean, not really,â Richie admitted. âBut I know it means a lot to you, especially the grade, so Iâm trying at least.â He swallowed awkwardly, putting on a strained grin. âDoesnât that count for something?â
âThanks, Rich. It means a lot. You trying. For me.â
âOf course, Eds.â
âYouâre a good friend, Richie.â
The messy haired boy seemed to wince at the words, becoming even more uncomfortable and awkward than before. âY-yeah. Thanks.â Richie looked away, nudging his glasses up his nose, then clearing his throat, nodding vigorously. âWe should get back to work.â
Eddie rode his bike home that day wondering why Richie acted so weird. They had always poked fun at each other and hadnât thought anything of it. Much less, Richie used the classic B-B-Bill insult almost anytime anyone stuttered, Eddie thought heâd be the very last person to get offended by it. The small boy chewed on his lower lip anxiously, pondering over the way Richie had shrunk up at his words, looking embarrassed and humiliated, almost scared to say anything at all. Which was particularly strange for someone infamously known as motherfucking âTrashmouth.â Eddie let out an exasperated sigh and pedaled into his driveway, his mother instantly wondering what was wrong when he had entered through the door.
âEddiebear, whatâs the matter, sweetie pie?â she fussed, waving him to come over to her recliner seat, television roaring with a laugh track of an overplayed sitcom.
âJust stressed about the science fair project,â he mumbled, giving her a kiss on the cheek. âRichieâs been a little hard to talk to lately.â
âI donât care much for that Mr. Tozier and this science fair business, it seems like youâve been losing sleep about it. Why donât you stay home for a week? You canât stress too much Eddiebear, you know stress can lead to-â
âCardiovascular disease, high blood pressure, mental health decline, strokes, abnormal heart rhythms, yeah yeah I know mommy,â Eddie reassured, furrowing his brows deep in thought. âMaybe youâre right. Iâll take a bit of a rest. Weâve gotten pretty far anyways, all we really need to do is make the poster and give the presentation.â
âSee baby? Exactly! Thatâs my baby boy,â she beamed. âNow why donât you go wash up real good and then weâll eat supper, hmm?â
âOkay,â Eddie smiled slightly. Perhaps he was right, he was overthinking all of this. It was best to take a step back and breathe, forget about it, then come back to it later. It was good for him and his health.
Richie, on the other hand, didnât seem too thrilled with the idea. Especially the next morning at school, when Eddie seemed to have delivered the news a little too pressingly. âSeriously, Eds?â Richie slammed his locker door shut a tad more aggressively than he was meaning to, cringing at the way Eddie flinched at the loud sound. âSorry.â
âYeah Richie,â Eddie seemed even more irritated now. âMy mom says she doesnât want me over at your place for the next week or so. Itâs stressing me out too much.â
âBut thatâs just your mom, Eds, you know how she gets,â Richie let out a nervous laugh, scratching the back of his head, looking at Eddie for some sort of agreement, but there was none to follow. âShe practically has an aneurysm every time you leave the house.â Eddie stared at Richie strangely, unamused. The messy haired boy distorted his voice, becoming nasally and whiny, âOh Eddiebear donât go hanging around that Tozier boy, heâs got lice and maggots and fleas, god heâs as bad as a stray dog!â
âCut it out,â Eddie muttered, annoyed. âWe get it, my momâs a stupid worry wart, I think we all know by now.â
âSorry I didnât mean to-â Richie began to stumble on his words again and Eddie sighed, clearly over the antics.
âLook, we still have plenty of time to figure out the science project, I donât think it would kill us to just take a break for a week or two,â Eddie shrugged. âI donât see whatâs the big deal.â
âIâm just saying maybe you should fight back once in a while,â Richie kept nagging, trying to find some sort of excuse to get Eddie to come to his place afterschool, but the smaller boyâs lips kept pouting into an even bigger frown, his eyes reading clearly frustrated and upset.
âAnd get myself in trouble?â he retorted. âYeah, thatâs a great idea, doofus.â
âWhatâs going on? Trashmouth giving you a rough time again?â Bev walked up to the two, smirking at the discourse. âCome on guys, the bell rings in two minutes and you dumbasses are gonna be late for class.â
âShit,â Eddieâs face paled and he ran off to his first period, leaving Richie feeling empty and even more embarrassed than before.
Kaspbrak could barely think straight in his math class, wondering why the hell Richie was so persistent on getting the project done. Richie had never been the studious type, and sure he liked to make plenty fun of his worrisome mother, but never to the point of trying to get Eddie in trouble over it. He found himself repeatedly applying hand sanitizer over his palms, rubbing it into his fingers, almost as if hoping the germ killing substance would eat away at his pestering thoughts too. God, Eddie had already hated Richie before the whole science fair partners things, but now? Now he was like a parasite to him, festering in his thoughts and daydreams, making him worry and overthink and- shit, he hated him so much. Always trying to annoy him and get inside his own head.
âI think you like Richie,â was the first thing to come out of Beverlyâs mouth when Eddie sat down at the lunch table that day, the boyâs face instantly turning a bright shade of red.
âW-what are you even talking about?â he sputtered, practically dropping his lunch tray onto the table, flabbergasted at the accusation. It was just the two of them who had sat down so far, but Eddie was still caught off guard, extremely embarrassed and ashamed.
âMe and Stanley have been talking about it,â she popped a fry into her mouth, smiling sweetly. âAnd we think both of you got the hots for each other.â
âI most certainly do not have the- the hots,â Eddie awkwardly repeated the phrase, denying her accusations. âFor Richie, or for anyone for that matter. Iâm too- Iâm too caught up with uh, with school. And the studies. And my mom and uhâŠâ He seemed so flustered trying to get the words out he didnât even really seem to know what he was saying himself.
âDonât think I didnât see you two flirting at the lockers this morning,â Bev prodded. âYou were making him all nervous and shit.â
âI was not,â Eddie retorted. âWe were fighting, actually.â
âRichie and Eddie?â Stanley sat down at the table with a stupid grin, causing Eddie to groan. âFighting? Sounds like an old married couple to me.â
âWould you two stop?â Eddie implored, exasperated with their antics. âLook, I most definitely do not like Richie, I actually hate him as a matter of fact.â
âDuly noted,â Stan replied sarcastically. Eddie huffed, glancing at the approaching boys and suddenly pretending to become interested in his milk carton.
The rest of the lunch went by and every exchange that occurred between Richie and Eddie was excruciatingly dissected by their friends, Bev and Stan constantly glancing at Eddie, who would either quickly look away or scowl back in their direction. There was even a moment where Eddie playfully shoved Richie, and Bev nudged Eddieâs foot under the table, making him glare at her discreetly.
And to Eddie, it seemed that the rest of the week seemed to continue like that. Richie trying to pester him with some stupid excuse to work on the science fair project, making fun of his mother with poor impersonations and shitty jokes, swinging by his locker afterschool or lingering a little bit more than usual after lunch. Bev and Stan continuing with the dramatic charade, annoying as ever, with raised eyebrows, winking, stupid smirks and sly smiles, and once in a while a kissy face, which especially turned Eddie sour. He didnât know why they had to make it such a big deal, him and Richie hanging out to work on the science project. Thatâs all it was⊠Right?
It was nearing eleven and Eddie was finishing up some English homework that evening, a lamp on his nightstand offering just enough light for him to review his vocabulary words. His mother had insisted he went to bed at nine thirty, to ensure he got all his hours of sleep, but he needed to get things done before school the next day. Wiping the sleepiness from his eyes he persisted, rereading the definition once more before he transcribed it onto a flashcard. That was, until he startled out of his grogginess, jolting up at the alarming sound of knocking. âWhat the hell?â he looked around when it came again, his head whipping around to stare at his bedroom window. âYouâve got to be shitting me.â
There, in the flesh, outside Eddieâs bedroom window, was Richard fucking Tozier. âAre you going to let me in Eds or just stand there and look pretty?â he grinned stupidly and Eddie, still mortified, rushed to the window, unlatching it and drawing it up.
âWhat the hell do you think youâre doing?â he hissed, staring at his friend, who seemed to be completely soaked. âIs it⊠raining? Richie, what the fuck?â
âYeah, sorry I wouldâve picked a better day but uh,â Richie still stood there, curly hair dripping with water, glasses covered in raindrops, clutching onto the ladder propped up against the Kaspbrakâs house. âCould you maybe let me in?â
âFucking hell, Richie,â Eddie extended both his hands, helping Richie climb through his window, shutting it promptly before turning around to look at him. âGod you were right, youâre just about as bad as a stray dog. A wet, smelly, stray dog.â
âWhat can I say, Eds? Iâm eager, adorable, and high-maintenance.â
âYouâre a pain in the ass, thatâs what you are.â
âYeah, but you love it.â
âGod Richie,â Eddie pinched the bridge of his nose, beginning to get angry. âWhat made you think this was a good decision? In the middle of the night much less? Do you know how pissed my mom will be if she knows youâre in my bedroom right now? If she knew you got a ladder and climbed through my bedroom window? And youâre wet, youâre soaking with rainwater! God, do you know how bad that is for you? Cold temperatures weaken the immune system, you could get a cold, or the flu, or hypothermia, or an infection-â
âIâm just fine,â Richie waved a hand dismissively.
âShit, Iâm going to go get you a towel to dry off, okay? And maybe one of my sweatshirts but I donât know what will fit you so maybe I can see if we have something elseâŠâ Eddie rambled off to himself as he exited the room in search for something dry, Richie smiling and shaking his head as he was left by the window.
 âThanks,â Richie nodded as he took a sizable towel from Eddie, tousling his hair in it.
âWhy did you even come over in the first place?â Eddie asked and Richie seemed to freeze up, awkwardly clearing his throat.
âI uh, shit, youâre gonna think itâs dumb,â he gave a nervous laugh and then looked towards the ground, shaking his head.
âPlease for the love of god donât tell me you wanted to work on that god-awful science project,â Eddie looked at him, almost begging. âBecause itâs nearly midnight and if I hear you try to convince me that itâs a good idea to-â
âI missed you,â Richie blurted out, turning shy. âThatâs- uh, thatâs why I came to visit. I guess.â There was a pause and he looked up at Eddie, hoping he would say something, but he didnât. He just stood there and stared at Richie, not really sure what to say at all, or do for that matter. âSorry, itâs stupid, I know, I probably shouldâve thought it through.â Another awkward silence passed between them.
âYou missed me?â Eddie raised an eyebrow, highly skeptical.
âYeah. We were hanging out so much and I was kind of getting used to having you aroundâŠâ Richie fumbled for an excuse but quickly realized he was only making himself look more like a fool. He sighed, beginning to realize there wasnât really a way to explain something like this. âI like you, Eds.â
âWell, as much as I hate to admit it,â the small boy looked up at him, hesitant. âI guess I like you too, Richie.â
âNo, not likeâŠâ Richie winced, hesitant to continue. âNot like friends⊠I think that I might like like you. More than friends.â
âRichieâŠâ
âI know. I know, itâs stupid, I said it was stupid, Iâm-â
âItâs late. You should go home.â
The two boys stared at each other, yellow light from the lamp growing dim now, silence growing ever the more awkward, rain water still dripping off of Richieâs clothes and hair pooling in a puddle to the carpeting at his feet. Eddieâs face scrunched up, clearly uncomfortable with the situation, swallowing dryly, unsure of how else to diffuse the situation as quickly as possible. He felt weird. Almost suffocating. But not in a way that he needed his inhaler. In a way that made him want to disappear.
âYou can keep the towel if you want.â
âO-okay.â
Richie lifted up the window again, slowly climbing down the ladder, and Eddie just stared blankly, the strange feeling beginning to grow in his chest and stomach, making him queasy. He watched until Richie disappeared and promptly shut the window, rushing to his bed and placing his schoolwork in his book bag, going to brush his teeth and then head to bed. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror, face red and flustered, eyes watery, hands shaky. Why did he feel this way? Was he having some sort of allergy attack or something? He swallowed once again, feeling nervous. Richie must have just startled him with the window climbing and the strange confession making. God he was so fucking weird. And annoying. And-
Eddie stopped himself. Yeah, it was weird and annoying for him to show up in the middle of the night but it meant he cared. Cared enough to tell him that he missed him. Cared enough to drag a ladder to his house all the way through the pouring rain. Cared enough to get caught by his pestering mother. Eddie felt even more flustered, rinsing off his toothbrush and heading towards his bed, chewing on his bottom lip. He couldnât seem to get the image of Richie out of his mind, worried eyes, messy hair, clothes soaked in the rain, stumbling over his words. It was almost cute. Heroic. Charming.
No, they were just friends. That was weird. Eddie turned over in bed, closing his eyes shut tightly, trying to rid himself of any more thoughts about Richie or this nonsense. He would have to talk to Stan about it first thing in the morning. He would know what to do. Or maybe Bev. It felt like his mind had been running at a million miles per hour and had just now run out of energy. Letting out a deep exhale, he decided to go to sleep and leave this mess of a situation for future Eddie tomorrow morning.
âHey Eddie can we talk-â Richie approaches him in the hallway at school and Eddie shoves aside his nervousness, instead mustering up the most menacing glare he can contrive.
âI donât want to talk to you,â the small boy stared, giving his friend the cold shoulder as he walked down the hallway, determined to find Stan.
âLook, Iâm sorry- I fucked things up, I fucked it up bad, but we can still be friends, we can just forget about it and-â Richie was cut off as soon as Eddie whipped around to face him, flustered and red, blood boiling in his cheeks.
âI donât even want to look at you right now, Richie,â he fired off the words before he could even think, assuming that maybe if he spoke fast enough it would hide the waver in his voice. âYou climbed through my window at fucking god knows what hour of the night just to tell me you had some stupid fucking crush on me or whatever and itâs- itâs honestly pathetic. So get lost.â
The scraggly haired boy blinked back at him through the thick frames of his glasses, dumbfounded. His breath hitched, shocked but also hurt, and he swallowed harshly, trying to deny the tears welling up in his eyes. âWell fuck you too then, Kaspbrak,â he spat through a voice barely breaking, turning on his heels and marching down the hall. Eddieâs eyes followed to where he had violently swung open the door to the boys bathroom and then flickered his gaze back to the front, set on finding Stan. Richie was being dramatic and selfish and childish with this stupid crush and it made Eddie feel ridiculous and overwhelmed. He hated it. He hated him. So much.
âStan,â Eddie practically yanked at the Jewish boyâs arm once he got to his locker. âWe need to talk.â
âWhat?â he turned around and smirked. âTozier finally confess his undying love for you or something?â
âYeah,â Eddie retorted, clearly annoyed. âAnd itâs making me sick.â
âW-wait what?â Stan stared, doing a double take. âHe uh, he did?â
âThis asshole broke into my house last night, fucking climbed through my bedroom window in the rain and then barges in telling me that he has this dumb crush-â he begins to rattle off every little detail when Stan shakes his head, begging Eddie to slow down and rewind.
âWoah, woah, woah, let me get this straight Eddie,â he held his hands out as if to steady the smaller boy. âYouâre telling me that Richie Tozier told you that he liked you?â
âY-yeah,â Eddieâs nose scrunched up. âDid you not hear literally anything I just said?â
âFuck,â Stanâs face fell. âDo you know where he is now?â
âWhy the hell should that matter?â Eddie snorted, unbothered.
âBev? Bev!â Stan waved down his red headed best friend down the hall. âCome here! Quick!â
âYeah, whatâs up?â she asked, jogging towards him, textbooks in hand.
âYou need to find Richie. Now,â Stan insisted, a sense of fear and panic in his eyes. âHe uh, he did the thing. He told Eddie.â
âShit,â Bevâs face seemed to fall just the same. âOkay, Iâll get him. Quick. You take care of Eddie. Iâll be back.â And with that she raced down the hall, Eddie growing more and more annoyed and confused by the second.
âWhat? You immediately side with lover-boy?â Eddie scowls.
âWe need to talk,â Stan narrows his eyes, taking Eddie by the shoulder and guiding him towards the closest set of doors. âThis is way more than just the stupid crush you think this is.â
âI really donât think youâre getting the point,â Eddie kept trying to deny it but Stan shook his head, sitting him down on a bench by the playground, chewing on his lower lip.
âEddie, shut up for a second and just listen, okay?â Stan huffed. âHow long have you known Richie Tozier?â
âSince the beginning of middle school I guess,â Eddie replied, miffed. âI donât see what that has to do with anything.â
âAnd how long have you and him been fighting back and forth about stupid shit like your inhaler and his dog breath and your mother and his dirty glasses?â Stan folded his arms, smug.
âEver since we met,â Eddie sighed. âItâs like- neverending.â
âAnd please, do tell me, why the fuck youâve been spending so much time around him lately,â Stan pleaded. âAnd for fuckâs sake donât even start with that bullshit excuse of a science project.â
âCause- cause uh, causeâŠâ Eddie searched for a response but ended up pressing his lips together, thinking hard, trying to find an honest answer. Stan was right. If he truly did annoy Eddie that much he wouldnât be voluntarily hanging out with him. He wouldnât have been so drawn to him. Or thinking of him constantly. âCause I think I might like him back.â
âYeah?â Stan raised an eyebrow, half filled with sarcasm, the other half hope.
âYeah, I think I do,â Eddie swallowed down his guilt. âAnd Iâm probably an asshole for denying it for so fucking long, but I do. I think I like him. A lot. Despite how fucking annoying he gets sometimes.â
âThen what are you telling me for?â Stan threw his hands up in the air. âI couldnât give a rats ass, Eddie. Tell him. Heâs been dying to hear it since the sixth grade.â
âR-really?â the small boy looks up at his friend as he starts to get up off the bench and Stanley nods, genuine.
âHeâs just been waiting around to see if you feel it too,â he murmured. âWe all knew it was there. Me and Bev especially. We just had to wait until you came around. Both of you, really.â
âThanks Stan,â Eddie smiled apologetically. âI owe you one. Really. I um, Iâm gonna go.â
âYou do that, Eddie,â he nodded, smiling back. âPlease. For Richie.â
âFor Richie,â he repeated, determined.
The door of the boyâs bathroom swung open just as violently as the first time, and Eddie Kaspbrak rushed in, coming to face a worried Beverly Marsh standing outside one of the stalls, leaning up against it, but freezing once she made eye contact. The gaze in her eyes was harsh, unforgiving, and threatening.
âCan I talk to him?â Eddie looked at her, guilty, hopeful, and desperate. âPlease?â
They exchanged a glance, the sound of muffled sobs and sniffles echoing throughout the bathroom, and Bev hesitated for a moment before she nodded, pulling away from the stall door. âHeâs in there,â she mumbled, walking past Eddie, hoping to god the two dumbasses would figure it out. âGood luck.â The door swung shut as she walked out and Eddie cautiously made his way to the stall, swallowing down his fear, heart racing in his chest.
He knocked, softly but meaningful, clearing his throat. âHey Richie,â he gave a pained smile despite his friendâs inability to see it. âItâs me. Eddie,â he coughed, trying to gain some sort of confidence in his words. âDonât be sorry for what you said last night. I uh, I fucked up. Not you.â
âI get it,â Richie sniffled from inside the stall. âIf you donât feel the same way⊠donât feel bad, I know itâs not uhâŠâ his voice trailed off and the smaller boy could hear his pain, the way he felt so broken, so embarrassed. âItâs not a normal sort of thing, so, I get it. If you donât-â
âBut I do,â Eddie insisted, leaning against the stall door, forehead pressed against the surface. He closed his eyes tight, daring to release the words that sat on his tongue. âI like you too, Richie. More than friends.â
âR-really?â Richie seemed scared to ask, as if with one word Eddie would change his mind and take back all he had confessed.
âReally,â Eddie insisted. âI like you Richie. And I was stupid not to tell you last night. Even more stupid to say those mean things to you this morning. I was just scared. Of you, and of myself really, and our friends, and of what others might think, what my mom-â
âNone of that matters, Eds,â Richie whispered, barely audible. âJust you. You and me. Okay?â
âOkay,â Eddie nodded, feeling more certain. âYeah. Me and you, Rich.â
âYou bet, Spaghetti,â Richie laughed, one of his stupid heartfelt, genuine laughs, and Eddie felt warm, felt safe, felt calm again.
âHey, can you open the door? I want to tell you something,â Eddie prompted, taking a step back from the stall. âIâve been wanting to tell you for a while now.â
âSomething else?â Richie wondered, and the small clinking noise of the lock was heard before he slowly creaked open the door to the bathroom stall, and stepped out, facing the smaller boy, cheeks wet with tears and a runny nose, glasses fogged up and puffy eyes.
âThis,â Eddie said, going in full force before he could stop himself or get too scared to consider even doing it in the first place. He got up on his tippy toes and kissed Richie, his soft lips pressing up onto Richieâs chapped ones, quickly pulling away, face flushed red, eyes wide, waiting for some sort of response.
Richieâs eyes were huge, staring back down at the freckle faced asthmatic, stunned at the fact that his fucking childhood best friend and crush for the ages had just kissed him on the lips. âAre you serious right now, Spaghetti? Did you just-â
âShut the fuck up, Tozier before I do it again,â his face turned beet red by now, trying to compose himself from the firework of emotions that had just exploded in his ribcage.
âWell shit, I donât mind a threat like that,â Richie gave a sly smile, embracing Eddie in his arms, kissing him hard, hands pressing into his lower back as Eddieâs found their way to his messy hair, both of them smiling against each otherâs lips. âI could get used to this.â
âYeah?â Eddie smiled, no longer feeling afraid. âMe too.â
this oneâs for clown twitter đđŠ
support me on ko-fi!
I talk too much, we talk too muchÂ
18 year old Reddie sketches because they actually skipped town the moment they graduated and never faced the hell clown ever again
"Whatcha lookin at eds?"
"at some dumbass"
Richie & Eddie in IT (2017) Dir. Andrés Muschietti
"Whatcha lookin at eds?"
"at some dumbass"
Babies :)
Do not try this at school
But he knew well enough.
Fly for your life
Highschool Eddie heading to his locker in the morning when he stops in his tracks, witnessing Richie laughing in the hallway, without any glasses on. He looks... different. A good kind of different. Almost attractive, really.
Eddie: *trying to look unbothered* Why do you look stupider than usual this morning?
Richie: I got contacts, Spaghetti! And mind you, the glasses were only just a ploy, we all knew I had no brains to begin with.
Eddie: Oh shut up wonât you Richie? Youâre a whole letter grade higher than I am in algebra.
they high schoolinđ«
what if i was? - reddie imagine (IT: chapter one)
A/N: so the new installment of IT absolutely took over my life so thatâs fun, wrote this small drabble because reddie stole my heart and i couldnât help it
basis: Eddie patching up Richie after being beaten up by the Bowers gang walking home from the arcade alone
Richie involuntarily sat on the edge of the counter, wincing as Eddie dabbed a cotton ball soaked with isopropyl alcohol to his forehead.Â
âGod, careful with that shit, wonât you Dr. K?â Richie scowled. âIt stings a lot like me.â
âWhatâs that supposed to mean?â Eddie scrunched up his face, annoyed.
 âStings like a motherfucker,â Richie smirked.
âOh cut it with the mom jokes, wonât you?â Eddie groaned.
âHey, what can I say?â Richie continued. âYour mom just canât get enough of me.â
âBeep, beep Richie,â Eddie glared.
âAlright, alright,â he relented.
âI canât believe you nearly cracked your skull open, jackass,â Eddie muttered. He brushed back a lock of stray hair from Richieâs face, inspecting the wound carefully, half disgusted, half concerned.
âYou know how Bowers is,â Richie huffed, starting to frown and quiet down a little bit. âIt usually isnât much of a fight.â
âYeah, I know,â Eddie sighed, noting the unusual lack of noise coming from his friend. A moment of silence fell upon the small bathroom as Eddie prepared another cotton ball, neither of the two boys talking. Eddie decided to finally break the silence. âYou okay, Trashmouth? You usually never shut up, especially after this kind of stuff.â
âJust thinking,â Richie mumbled, staring off into the corner.
âHey,â Eddie pulled away from the wound, softening his expression. âWhatever those assholes said or did, you know theyâre just being a bunch of dicks right?â
âYeah, nothing new, Eds,â Richie rolled his eyes, trying to force out a laugh, but still refusing to make eye contact with Eddie. âA black eye, a bit of blood, and some name calling.â He nodded slowly. âIâm a stupid faggot again today.â
âYouâre not. Not today, not ever,â Eddie narrowed his eyes. âThis, all of this, itâs just them trying to get to you. Donât let it. None of the bullshit that comes out of their mouths is ever true, okay?â
âYeahâŠâ Richie murmured, still seeming distracted, brow furrowed, chewing on his lower lip.
âHey come on, whatâs wrong, Rich?â Eddie finally tossed the cotton ball in the wastebasket, pausing the amateur medical treatment to bring Richie back down to earth. âYouâre being awfully quiet for someone whose mouth rarely ever closes.â
âWhat-â he stopped, looking at the smaller boy, almost teary eyed behind his thick rimmed glasses. âWhat if it was?â
âWhat if what was? What are you talking about?â Eddie asked, confused.
âWhat they said,â he answered. âWhat if it was true? What if I was, I wasâŠâ
âWhat if you were what?â Eddie wondered, worried himself now as to what his friend could have been so worked up about.
âA faggot,â Richie blurted out, embarassed, looking down into his lap at this point. Eddie noticed how his knuckles turned white from clutching the edge of the countertop, arms shaking, nervous and afraid.
âI meanâŠâ Eddie looked at him, a bit shocked but also thoughtful. âWell, Iâd still like you just the same. You beingâŠâ His voice got soft. âRichie, thatâs not going to change anything.â
âReally?â he looked up, hopeful, yet hesitant.
âYeah,â Eddie nodded. âOf course.â
ââŠReally?â the messy haired boy repeated the question, tilting his head to the side in confusion, swallowing hard, recovering from the overwhelming amount of anxiety that came with revealing his secret. âHow come?â
âCause like you said, maybe Bowers and his band of goonies were right for once,â Eddie shrugged, finding himself looking towards the ground too now, a bit nervous. âNot just about you, but uh, about me too.â
There was a moment of realization before Richie perked up, stunned. âYou like boys, Eds?â he raised an eyebrow, almost dumbfounded.
âWell,â Eddieâs face turned red. âI mean⊠Yeah, I like- I like-â He looked at his best friend, terrified but excited to tell him all the same. âI like you, Richie.â
R+Eđ«