i will always be with you. you are the light of my life. my precious son, my little starlord.

ofinvisibilities.

               “o-o-okay, but here’s the dealbreaker. c-can you do an imitation of that nyan cat video? that’s the only way to get my respect.”

        for  a  moment  ,  he  looks  incredulous  ,    as  if  the  request  will  be  denied  .  after  a  second  ,  a  grin  slips  onto  his  face  ,  and  richie  pinches  his  nose  ,  revving  a  warmup  in  the  back  of  his  throat  .    ❛     nya  -  nyan  -  nya  -    ❜  

insanelycooljk.

              ❛ what are you, fuckin’ british ? name one american who watches that shit, i’ll wait. ❜  hands fall to pockets without thought, rocking on balls of his feet. he doesn’t really wait for a response: he doesn’t care enough about ether of their trash talk to do so.  ❛ seriously, dude, what the crap are you hiding ? ❜  eyes through glasses lenses look away from other, look at things around other’s room instead, try to find what he was looking for. ( change the topic, change the topic… )  ❛ whatever. have you seen my other x-box controller ? ❜

          there’s  no  way  he  can  come  back  from  this  .   hiding  away  in  his  room  and  trying  to  emulate  big  brother’s  movements  is  one  thing  :  being  caught  is  another  entirely  ,  too  much  to  talk  his  way  out  of  .   ❛    shove  it  up  your  ass  ,  dickbag  .  no  ,  i  haven’t  seen  it  .  i  don’t  play  your  loser  games  ,  anyways  .    ❜    voice  is  little  more  than  a  mumble  ,  one  foot  scuffing  anxiously  on  his  worn  carpet  .

barmitzvahed.

          “ beep beep richie. ” but he’s laughing as he speaks, warmth spreading through his chest, reaching every inch of him. sometimes the stuff out of his best friend’s mouth makes stan want to cringe, but it’s never mattered. not really. stan looks at richie now and feels something so genuine, so light, it’s easy to let go of the fuzzy horrors that they’ve been through. 

         the hug’s over, but stan slings his arm around his friend’s shoulder, happy to live in this moment. to keep living in this moment. one where he loves and feels love in return. this give and take as natural as the curls that frame his face. “ you’re not annoying. maybe some of the things you say, but… ” he scrunches his nose and sticks out his tongue. 

           when  he  rests  his  head  on  stan’s  shoulder  ,    he  feels  a  security  that  envelops  and  overwhelms  .  it’s  nothing  like  he’s  ever  known  :  a  warm  moment  that’s  received  and  requited  ,  and  he  grins  lopsided  .  they  walk  in  step  ,  a  subconscious  claim  to  the  paths  they  tread  together  .  for  once  ,  he  doesn’t  even  mind  being  beeped  -  it’s  a  sacrifice  he’s  willing  to  make  to  see  stanley  smile  .

            free  hand  presses  against  the  part  of  his  chest  where  his  heart  used  to  lie  :   now  ,  there  exists  only  fragments  ,  pieces  stolen  by  the  summer  they  lost  .  nevertheless  ,  the  pulse  remains  ,  hammers  deftly  against  his  thin  fingers  .   ❛    ouch  ,  dude  .  right  where  it  hurts  .  you’re  lucky  you’re  my  best  friend  ,  or  i’d  get  mad  .   ❜  

🔪it: TEENAGE! the losers club

All of the things we’re taking ‘Cause we are young and we’re ashamed Send us to perfect places All of our heroes fading Now I can’t stand to be alone Let’s go to perfect places

shoutout to trashfear and preymade! both amazing muns with phenomenal writing, eli portrays richie in a way that makes him completely real and alive in writing, where we can examine all the layers that compose him, and bane's passion for mike is beyond amazing, and brings the justification for the character that mike deserves, plus, they're both wonderful people !!

    @trashfear  @preymade ♡    !

barmitzvahed.

          “ BEEP BEEP, RICHIE. ” a grimace passes over his lips, a knot in his stomach he can’t untie. but at least richie’s arm is still around his shoulder and even if his words brought a bitter taste to his mouth, stan understood them. they weren’t true, but it was easier than saying goodbye. “ but, you know, not that i think about it, it will be more peaceful with you several states away. ” a pause. “ but sometimes, i think peaceful is overrated. ”

          IT  WORRIES  HIM  THAT  THIS  SEEMS  SO  SIMPLE.    with  dreaded  phrase  comes  deep  huff  of  indignance,  slim  hip  knocking  sternly  against  best  friend’s  side  in  a  wordless  reprimand.  stan’s  silence  seems  an  invitation  for  a  quick  interjection,  a  parting  quip  to  ensure  his  MEMORY  stays  bold,  but  he’s  stopped  dead.   ❛    i  ---  yeah.  yeah,  you  kidding  me  ?  it’s  gonna  suck  for  you,  stanley.   ❜    hand  tightens  on  sturdy  shoulder.   ❛   gonna  suck  for  all  of  us.   ❜    

hauntsboy.

SKIN  GOES  WHITE   .           drained   ,   drained   ,    my  blood  is  black   .          a  monster  in  burning  skin     ,      ACHING  HEART   .           he  almost  refuses  to  look  his  way    ,    for  that  way  it  is  all  real    ,    those  terrible  teeth  are  at  my  throat  once  more  .              ❝   the  demagorgon  .   ❞  

it  must  have  a  name   !        life  is  a  game   ,   now    ,    terrible  and  impossible  to  win  .          teeth  gnaw  the  inside  of  his  cheek    ,    seek  out  words  that  fail  and  burn   .          ❝   i  just  went  ––––––––  down  the  wrong  road  .   ❞             WRONG  ,  WRONG  ,  WRONG  !              ❝   ––––––––  why  ?        have  you  seen  it     ?   ❞  

          WELL,  YOU  SEE,  IF  HE  KNEW  THAT,  HE  WOULDN’T   be  having  this  issue  !   jesus  christ,  he’s  really  lost  his  mind.  with  each  passing  second  comes  a  more  unsettling  moment  of  uncertainty.  how  can  they  have  a  conversation  like  this  when  he  is  an  unwelcome  visitor  in  his  own  head  ?  the  privilege  of  his  memories  has  been  taken  from  him.

           HE  ISN’T  SURE  WHAT  HE  SAW.   if  he  thinks  back,  past  the  dark  and  the  relief  and  the  blood  pact,  he  can  smell  something  ---  stagnant  and  cold,  shit  on  a  summer  day.  the  memory  is  enough  to  wrinkle  his  nose.   ❛    hell,  willie.  maybe.  i  don’t  think  i,  uh,  remember.  fuck.   ❜  

does it ever hit you how truly lonely you are? like you have this terrible realization that this world has seven and a half billion people and yet you are still so alone? 

whatever you do, don’t think about twelve year old stan and eddie waiting patiently in the afterlife for their friends to arrive. how they watch over them and do everything in their power to keep them out of harm’s way. how they’re sad that their friends don’t remember them, but it isn’t terrible because they have each other. how they wait and wait and wait. don’t think about how when ben finally arrives, having died from pancreatic cancer, he’s shocked to be twelve again and standing in eddie’s old bedroom where stan and eddie were reading comic books. how stan screams “HAYSTACK!” and bursts into tears, tackling his old friend. don’t think about how beverly arrives next, dead from a lifetime of cigarettes and stress. how she’s standing in the barrens and hears screams and laughter from below, how she looks down and there are three of the six loves of her life, she’d forgotten them. how she feels the top of her head and is pleasantly surprised to find her red locks cut short yet again. how her old locket is around her neck and her favorite dress hangs to her knees once again. how ben nearly passes out when he sees her glimmering hair emerge from the bushes. how she can’t help but greet him with a kiss. don’t think about how mike comes next, died from an accident with a drunk driver, and he pops up next to the four of them reading books in the otherwise empty library. how eddie leaves tear spots on his shirt from the sheer joy. how he lets a tear or two fall as he reunites with the forgotten friends he knew and loved. don’t think about richie suddenly appearing in the middle of a laser tag game at the arcade, dead from an unexpected heart attack. how he feels his old glasses on his nose and his hair, long and tangled, in his eyes once again. how he hears a gasp from behind him and turns around to see beverly standing there. how she shoots him with her laser before running to him and wrapping her arms around him. how the other six gang up on him and make him lose to welcome him home. ESPECIALLY don’t think about how bill comes last, may years later, having died of old age. how he manifests in the barrens as well, his friends a few feet away having a picnic. how the seven twelve year olds sit there in stunned silence before eddie screams “big bill!” and they scramble to their feet and attack him with a group hug. how all bill can think is “still insists he sees the ghosts” but this time, the ghosts are real. don’t think about how they all spend the rest of eternity together, seven reckless twelve year olds, doing whatever they want, riding their bikes around an abandoned town where nothing bad ever happens again. how they spend every night surrounded by the only people that ever loved them the way they deserved. how everything ends the way it began, and the way it always should have been.

✘ THIS IS THE REALEST PROMPT ELI

       BEEP  BEEP,  RICHIE  !!

           SPIT  THE  CHERRY  FROM  THE  STONE.   red  gushes  over  trembling  lips  with  reckless  abandon,  shaking  fists  raking  through  curls  damp  with  sweat.  i  saw  it,  stanley.  it  came  for  me  with  claws  and  teeth,  took  my  only  weapon,  left  me  defenseless  and  weeping.  trashmouth  tozier,  rendered  OBSOLETE.  boy  as  he  once  was  is  dead,  gone,  leaving  poor  imitation  in  his  place.  imploring  gaze,  filled  with  thick  and  fast  tears,  turns  on  best  friend.  it  got  me  !  you  left  me,  and  i  payed  the  price.

unfollow me if you’re friends/follow ollie

unfollow me if you’re friends/follow ollie

insanelycooljk.

              confusion hits before fear or familiar instinct to comfort little brother. it doesn’t make sense, they are right here. they are right here, if one is missing, the other is missing, and— and that means— and it means nothing. it’s not real, it’s like a fucked up prank. it’s fake, it’s faked worse than emails written by teenagers, jared knows it before he even looks at what’s causing richie to panic from fear. calm down, calm down, those words are ready to be spoken before body even turns to face mini jared—

               ❛ calm down, it’s okay. ❜  words spoken as arms pull smaller to him, ( HE DOESN’T SEE THE BOLD PRINTED M-WORD. ) he fails to mention that: he fails to mention that if he were anyone else he’d look crazy, he’d look insane. jared would call out psychopath for panicking over something that isn’t really there: but this isn’t a psychopath, this is richie, so a hand goes to move little brother’s hands out of his own site ( that’s where he seemed to be starring. )  ❛ it’s not real. you’re fine, dude. ❜

             AS  SOON  AS  HE’S  TOUCHED,  HE  BURSTS  INTO  TEARS.   i  am  gone,  brother.  they  took  me  in  the  dead  of  night,  under  ghostly  moon,  and  no  one  breathed  a  word.  MISSING.  shaking  hands  tighten  around  older’s  abdomen,  glasses  pressed  squarely  against  button-down  shirt.  fear  steals  articulation,  the  one  weapon  he’d  always  had  stripped  from  him  without  mercy.  all  silent,  all  silence.

              IF  I  VANISHED  TOMORROW,  WOULD  YOU  LOOK  FOR  ME  ?    unspoken  question  sobbed  into  oblivion,  desperate,  unsure.  am  i  too  much  ?  i  don’t  know  how  to  fix  it.    ❛     my  hair,  my  face,  my  age,  my  NAME  ---  me,  on  the  poster,  missing,  JARED  ---    ❜    broken  bird,  voice  shattering  half  way  in  an  adolescent  crack.

wheezys.

There’s a urge deep down to lean in close ––– and headbutt Richie as hard as he can. He contemplates that for a while as he’s being poked and prodded by him. “ Do you –– do you know how much bacteria is on the average human hand? PROBABLY, a quarter of what’s on yours. Get your dirty paws off me, you bastard. OFF. GET OFF. ”

           LAUGHTER  RINGS  LIKE  WINDCHIMES,  GETTING   further  and  further  away  as  capers  take  him  up,  down,  around.  frantic  two-step  around  eddie  is  half  to  annoy  and  half  to  take  him  out  of  reach.    ❛    paws  are  only  as  dirty  as  the  GIRLS,  eds.  you  wanna  see  DIRTY  ?      ❜    without  waiting  for  an  answer,  palm  is  brought  to  crooked  smile,  tongue  pressed  against  skin  before  hand  is  pushed  back  towards  friend’s  face.    ❛    HERE’S  dirty  !    ❜    

ramtorch.

if this wasn’t richie, he might just flinch at the movement; eyes following briefly, before falling back, returning to the boy in front of him. there’s a quick twinge of surprise (at voice and actions both), and emotions don’t fail to flash across his features —— jaw tensing, soon loosening, nonchalance wavering. ❛ do you want an apology? because whether or not you do, i’m sorry. now, if you have something to say, the stage is all yours. ❜

           IF  YOU  HAVE  SOMETHING  TO  SAY.   my  mouth  has  a  mind  of  its  own,  mike  hanlon.  it  runs  independently  from  me,  voices  things  i  daren’t  even  think.  it  keeps  me  seen,  and  that  is  its  sole  purpose.    ❛     no,  it’s  cool.  BEEP  BEEP,  right  ?  lips  are  sealed,  i’m  out.  carry  on.    ❜    biting  tone  singes  steel,  tight  lipped  smile  suddenly  absent.

hauntsboy.

i  am  a  legend   ,   richie  tozier   !            a  violent  myth  plagued  by  blood  /  hounded  by  stories   .          my  mother  prayed  until  her  knees  were  red   ,   until  his  knuckles  were  white   ,   until  she  smoked  cigarettes  and  sage  .     you  cannot  rid  my  bones  of  these  ghosts   .            nervous  fingers  pick  at  frayed  shoelaces  ,        chipped  nails  chip  more  .    

❝   yeah   ,   i  know  .   ❞               if  only  it  were  so  ,      richie   !           if  only  i  could  walk  from  this  horror  show       ,       FREE  /  BRIGHT    !           into  the  sun  and  away  from  my  living  nightmare   .        i’m  so  alone  .             ❝   thanks  .   ❞            shoulder  lifts   ,   falls   .         ❝   i  guess  crazy’s  one  way  to  put  it  .   ❞  

HORRIFYING   .      TRAUMATIZING   .             brows  furrow  in  the  middle    ,       swallow  around  the  lump  in  your  throat  .            ❝   i’m  just  lucky  IT  didn’t  kill  me  .   ❞  

            TWO  LETTERS.  INSTANT  HEADACHE.   suddenly  iron,  gaze  narrows  behind  thick  frames,  brown  sugar  eyes  now  sour,  almost  frustrated.  do  you  know  of  the  horrors  i’ve  seen  ?  i  don’t  REMEMBER,  folks.  it’s  all  hazy  to  me,  chapter  and  verse,  fits  and  starts.  a  road  of  which  i  cannot  see  the  end  or  the  beginning.    ❛    what’d  you  say  ?   ❜    

             SOMETHING  HAPPENED  THIS  SUMMER.   something  was  stolen  from  me,  will  byers.  stolen  from  us.  it’s  (  FUCKING  )  summer.  it’s  meant  to  be  fun.  we  were  meant  to  be  outside.  we’re  kids.   ❛    lucky  that  WHAT  didn’t  kill  you  ?   ❜    push,  push,  push  again,  find  the  answer  you’re  losing  through  your  clenched  fists.

                @leftfear     liked.

              ❛     GOD,  MY   whole  life’s  like  some  test.   ❜