Reddie oh my beloved.

Janaina Medeiros
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@areyareddieforit
Reddie oh my beloved.

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i am so sure that eddie cannot keep a secret for shit bc when he bill and stan were in the pharmacy buying the supplies for ben and bev asked what they were doing, eddie just blurts out THERES A GUY OUTSIDE LOOKS LIKE SOMEONE KILLED HIM even after stan said “none of your business” so my hc is that eddie is always the LAST person to know any kind of secret because everyone knows he’ll just tell, like if the losers are planning a surprise party for bill eddie doesn’t find out until literally the day of the party and after he finds out he’s not allowed to talk to bill
akdsjfbaldsjba just imagining richie and eddie in college, not dating but very obviously crushing on each other. they have a class together, and one day richie isn’t there. eddie texts him to ask where he is, and richie replies that he’s skipping because he’s come down with a bad flu and can’t get out of bed.
now, eddie doesn’t like being around sick people. he hates it, in fact. and richie knows this, so when he sends his ‘im sick’ text to eddie, he rolls over in bed and tries to go back to sleep thinking that’s the end of it.
what he’s not expecting, is fifteen minutes later hearing a knock on his dorm room door. richie wants to ignore it, but then the person knocks again, and again, and at this point richie just wants them to go away. so he pulls himself out of bed, with his blanket wrapped around him, and trudges to the door- and he’s incredibly surprised to see eddie standing there.
eddie invites himself right into richie’s room, and directs richie back into bed while eddie pulls up richie’s desk chair beside the bed, and starts digging through the giant bag he had brought with him. he pulls out a container of steaming hot soup, and orders richie to eat while he takes richie’s temperature, sorts through all the medicine he’s brought to get richie back to normal.
richie’s thankful for all of this, but he’s also confused. he can’t help but remind eddie that he… hates being around sick people.
“i know,” eddie says. “but… i don’t hate it as much… when it’s you. i don’t like seeing you like this, so, you need to get better.”
if richie’s fever wasn’t already making his face warm, then eddie’s comment definitely was now. richie sits back and relaxes and drinks his soup and eds takes care of him, and when richie is finally able to peacefully fall sleep, eddie makes sure he’s comfortable and that he’s all tucked in under the blankets and falls asleep in the chair beside the bed, his hand in richie’s.
richie couldn’t have asked for a better remedy.
hc where eddie does NOT like people touching his neck, he makes a big deal about it any time someone comes even close to his neck, and everyone knows that eddie’s neck is off limits.
but one day, the losers are hanging out and it’s been a bit of a long day so they’re all tired, and richie accidentally dozes off to sleep against eddie’s shoulder. he sits up, and starts to give a half-asleep apology to eddie bc he knows that eddie doesn’t like anyone near his neck, but eddie surprises them both when he says that no, it’s ok, and gestures for richie to put his head back where it was and go to sleep.
so richie does, and eddie is surprised to find how much… he doesn’t hate it when richie nuzzles into the crook of his neck. in fact, now that he thinks about it, he’s never really seemed to mind when his personal space is invaded when it’s….. richie.
eddie tries not to think about why that is. it’s just because we’re really good friends, he tells himself. that’s it. nothing more about it. he slides his arm around richie, and tries to ignore the beating of his heart as richie also snuggles in a little bit closer.
happy birthday richie tozier !

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My baby bois doing baby boi things
(@/notimpasta is my insta watermark)
If there’s any place a joke couldn’t grow, it’s here, on Eddie’s hotel bed, Eddie’s words slipping through silk sheets, warm with alcohol—once, I’ve kissed a man once—Richie’s mouth unable to find a punchline. It’s late, and his own room is two floors above, but he can’t seem to move away from here.
“You can tell me,” he says instead, voice soft.
Eddie turns to look at him, half his face pressed into the cushion of his pillow. They’ve been laying like this for two hours now, since they came up from dinner, bodies almost fitting into each other, but never touching—a crown shyness.
“It was on a business trip,” Eddie says slowly. “Ten years ago. We were passing through Nebraska...went out for drinks before checking into a hotel, and there was a man sitting by the bar. Young. My age, maybe.”
He’s quiet, then, for a stretch of time—mouth pursed at the ceiling like he’s trying to get something out. He covers his face in both of his hands as though to filter the shame in his voice, but it bleeds through.
“I was married.” It sounds like a wail, the way it’s ripped from Eddie’s chest, but when he pulls his hands away, his face is collected and dry. Richie feels an electric shock through his body, but keeps still. Memories of his own experiences, experiences with men in bars, creep in. “Men...they always say ‘oh, I was drunk’, ‘oh I wasn’t thinking.’ But. I knew what I was doing.” He sniffs. “When I offered to go up and order our drinks. When I told everyone I’d meet them back at the hotel. I knew exactly what I was doing.”
There is a sorry there, underlining the shame in his voice, but Richie isn’t sure if it’s a sorry—period or a sorry for not being sorry at all.
“Eddie,” he tries, a sense of impending doom seeping through his chest. Eddie closes his eyes.
“I kissed him on the sidewalk outside that bar and he slipped me the name of his motel and I...Richie I wanted to go. I wanted to go so badly. But it felt like... I was just on the edge of something. Just on the edge. And that if I did, the earth might open up and swallow me whole. And I wouldn’t come back.”
His eyes stay closed, and Richie wonders if he’s imagining it. The kiss. The kiss outside of some hole-in-the-wall bar in Lexington.
In his hands, Richie can feel it. The fold of a man’s dress shirt where it had been tucked into his slacks. The way his back curved into the press of his fingertips when he’d leant into him; soft, then hard, then relentless. He was twenty-five, looks no less strange than they’d always been, but at a peak where they could, at an angle, be mistaken for handsome. He’d just finished a gig earlier that evening; one on a list of self-booked tour dates that would send him from one side of the country to the other, alone in his mom’s beat up, old van, but not before being halted abruptly right here, in Lexington, Nebraska, by a man in a bar. Would catch sight of those freckles and spend the rest of the night making one drink last two hours, ridiculously hoping that when the rest of his friends left, he would hang behind. Must have hoped well enough, too, because he had.
Eddie lets out a huff of air. “You know I forgot his name by the time I was in the cab, but can still remember the room number? Like...like part of me is still hoping to go. Still trying to.”
Richie swallows. “208,” he said.
Eddie whips his head back to Richie. “What?”
“208,” Richie repeats. “208, it was room 208 and I stayed...an extra day I stayed before hitting the road in case...just. In case.”
His heart hammers humiliated in his chest as he watches Eddie’s mouth turn down, his eyes widen.
“Richie?” he says softly, name wavering on a lilt.
Richie just shakes his head, uncomprehending, and looks up at the ceiling. After a moment he feels Eddie’s hand on his shoulder, moving down to his chest, over his heart. It’s shaking, and Richie holds it in his own to steady them both.
They wait for the horror to pass to see what it leaves them with.
hurt/comfort
" I'm here Richie. "
Words echoes through the ripples of the water.
something to show you

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Commission drawn by @tecochet 🌷
(For those wondering: in the book, Eddie is heavily gay coded and Richie is bi coded.)
my piece for @reddiefixitzine which I made back in january when I still had motivation to draw
oh god, oh fuck
shower him with affection 🥰

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Richie and Eddie are keeping their relationship on the down low because they don’t want the other losers to feel weirded out or alienated by the shift in their group dynamic. One day, they’re all having a movie marathon and Eddie gets reaaaaally drunk. Problem is, he’a an affectionate drunk and climbs up onto Richie’s lap and peppers his face with kisses and starts crying and telling Richie how much he loves the birth mark on his neck. And Richie’s like 👀 and the losers are like 👀👀👀👀👀
Pfffft the Losers are like "Rich, are you and Eddie dating???" and he frantically shakes his head and waves his arms "N-no, of course not, Eds' just an affectionate drunk, you know how he gets!!". Meanwhile Eddie, still 3 sheets to the wind, looks up at Richie with heartbroken puppy dog eyes and goes "we aren't? 🥺🥺🥺" which causes Richie to immediately panic and reply "of course we are, Eddie my love!!" before giving him a big smooch on the lips and the Losers just look at each other all smug 😏
The idea of Eddie choosing love again and again, over and over, against all odds for his entire life is absolutely decimating me bro…Eddie Kaspbrak choosing again and again to fight cruelty with love, LITERALLY replacing something hateful with the word “lover” he CHOOSES to love every day it’s a choice Eddie Kaspbraks biggest act of bravery is loving against all odds like he chooses to be a lover and it’s reflected in the fact that HE writes the v on his cast HE does that HE wants to be known as someone who loves! I’m about to cry
LOVE AND BRAVERY SO INTERTWINED IN ONE HEART THAT YOU CANNOT TELL WHERE ONE BEGINS AND THE OTHER ENDS