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Beautiful, Blessed, and Bodies : Trashmouth Your Mom > 345,987 likes Trashmouth Wow. Tough blow, this Richie Tozier news. My fiance here was a fan. I hope he doesn't take it too hard #CancelRichieTozier #BlowMe BevvieMarshHoly Shit, Rich SummerKid324 Plot Twist view all 12,243 comments reddie-fucked-me-up: Art by the beautiful @koryandr, who listened to my idea in our Reddie Discord Server, blessed my fucking seeing globes with THIS beautiful sketch, and inspired me to write a little more <3The news broke overnight: Old tweets expose comedian Richie Tozier as homophobe.There was a huge “#CancelRichieTozier” party, of course. When isn’t there? A small handful of celebrities sounded off about their disapproval, a bunch of old haters flooded his comment sections of every social media account, and even a few fans spoke out, condemning him for it and shaming themselves for not “knowing something was up with him”.If you asked Richie, the only thing they should be shaming themselves for was telling a cock sucker he was homophobic for joking about other cock suckers on the internet five years ago, but hey. Who was he to judge?Now, normally Richie would have loved to jump on the scandal. Hell, he’d probably be right there along with his haters, insisting he have the most Extra™ of cancellation parties. Unfortunately though, he happened to be sleeping when the “receipts” surfaced. It wasn’t until he awoke, bleary eyed and exhausted, that he knew anything was amiss— the sheer amount of notifications on his phone being enough to scare anyone.Especially the five missed calls from his agent.“Oh fuck me,” He groaned, falling back against the pillows once more. Eddie was right there, pushing back into his space and nuzzling his face into Richie’s shoulder in a lazy attempt to block out the light.If Richie took a moment or two to stare before turning his attention once more to the shit storm on his phone, who could blame him?He scrolled through notification after notification, mind still rather numb from the early morning, but smiling nonetheless. I mean, how could he not, this shit was hilarious! Sure, he probably should’ve been calling his agent back, but instead he raised his phone in the air, snapping a quick shot of him and his fiancé to sent to their friends.It was maybe the best picture he’d ever taken.Growing up in a town as close-minded as Derry, Richie and Eddie were just a couple of the many who were raised to believe being gay was wrong. Richie grew up desperate to believe he was anything else (well, technically he was bisexual, but that was besides the point), and Eddie grew up believing he was inherently dirty.Eventually, they found a home in each other, but it had taken some time. They didn’t know how to allow themselves to be intimate, and there were a lot of stumbles. Just as there always is with your first love. Except, that “first love” was going to be their only love. Richie had made it official weeks ago. He liked it, and he finally, finally put a ring on it. He just… hadn’t gone public with it yet.Eddie didn’t mind. They were both still far more uncomfortable with public displays of affection than they’d care to admit. You could be run out of an arcade is someone thought you were so much as flirting with a guy. That kind of hardwiring took time to change.Well… looking at this photo— at the way their bodies could just exist together— Richie started to wonder if his hardwire wasn’t glitching. He just couldn’t get the math to work. Why would this ever be something he didn’t want to share? The way Eddie could just close his eyes and mold himself against Richie’s entire body, trusting him with this… this precious thing he was. This thing that probably should’ve belonged to someone more deserving, but he gave to Richie.With one last tired smile at the photo, Richie decided to do what he does best:Not think.It was a little difficult typing with one shoulder pinned under Eddie, but he managed fine enough, typing his official response to all the drama.“Wow. Tough blow, this Richie Tozier news. My fiancé here was a fan. I hope he doesn’t take it too hard #CancelRichieTozier #BlowMe”
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Being Alone, Crying, and Dude: thejorie: xilast-zurvifferman: thejorie: jackbecq: thejorie: 19leahjade96: thejorie: madamekagamine: thejorie: gccgrimm: thejorie: gucciballs: thejorie: peble: thejorie: My three girlfriends.And yes, they smoke weed. do they smoke weed? Yes, actually. you mean she isnt just smoking a cigarette? but a weed cigarette? It’s called a bunt…. Not weed cigarette… And yes, it is a weed bunt. They all smoke weed bunts before we kiss. (They are my girlfriends,) They don’t look like they smoke weed. Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.I’m so angry you are so lucky my three weed smorking girlfriends are rubbing my shoulders to calm me down I’m so mad. Your “weed smoking girlfriend” has a Hello Kitty tattoo on her belly. The one in the middle. I printed out a photo of your avatar and taped it to my punching bag that I punch and I mutter your URL with every strong punch I punch you twerp…. Don’t ever Talk about Blaiz or the wicked Tat(tattoo) I drew on her ever again I Don’t wanna see you standing outside my home at 3 am holding your weird dripping brown bags ever again ok leave us alone this is the FINAL FUCKING WARNING  Well that escalated quickly…… What, was that? Hmm? Come again. *Blaiz grabs my shoulder* Come on Jory, they aren’t worth it, please. * I jerk my shoulder shaking her hand off* NO! NOOOOO!!! *starts to just pummel you with my big fucking fists. With each blow I let out a furious yell. The blows come quicker and harder and the yells get louder. I’m yelling so loud and now I’m crying. BREAKING POINT. The week was hard and I can’t take anymore. I’m opening sobbing at this point while you blood gurgle. All three of my girlfriends struggle to pull me off and they finally succeed and lead me away from the goo pile that is now your body* haha oh my god who even is this dude? someone needs some anger management classes. love how he keeps reminding us that “I HAVE THREE GIRLFRIENDS”, “THEY ALL KISS ME”, and “THEY SMOKE WEED HURRP DURR”. and let’s not forget the “Blaiz” and her “wicked tat”, or that he doesn’t “wanna see you standing outside [his] home at 3 am holding your weird dripping brown bags ever again”, and that this is “the FINAL FUCKING WARNING”. “the goo pile that is now your body” i’m dying over here, jesus please, Jory, come challenge me to a bout of internet witticsisms; i promise, it’ll be fun. *shoots you dead* Heh, idiot…*leaves with my three weed smorking girlfriends to go hold hands and kiss.* this dude playin omg  Come again? *The bar falls silent. No one dares to make a sound, as you have just said a very poor choice of words at a very dangerous time. I remain slumped over the bar, not looking back to you. One hand limply holding an almost empty bottle, the other hand cradling my head. I repeat the question, this time louder.* Come again?! *You can hear me slur the words, the sentence sounds like a real struggle for me to get out. I’m clearly intoxicated. A bead of sweat rolls down your face as you realize you might have just fucked up in a very major way. Everyone else in the bar is pretending to not notice what is going on. The bartender idly washes a mug with a cloth. His eyes are closed and he’s muttering something to himself. A handful of people hurriedly leave. One person looks back at you, a look of sorrow on their face. They almost say something, but shake their head and cast their eyes down to the floor, and leave. But not you. You stand, petrified. A quick look at me reveals I’m still  at the bar. You look to the exit, there’s still time. But there’s not, there’s not, there’s not. Your fate was sealed the moment you opened your mouth.* Mother fuck.. what did you say?! *I slowly rise from my stool and being to lumber over to you.  I look a mess. My hair is unkempt, I haven’t shaved in what looks like months, there are dark heavy bags under my eyes, my shirt is stained and has holes in it, and I’m missing a shoe. But the main thing you notice is the gun tucked into my jeans, and my massive muscle arms that look like they were made for punching. You know that song about the boots that were made for walking? Yeah, it’s like that only instead of boots it’s my muscles and instead of walking it’s punching. As I drunkenly sway over to you, you think of your family… Will they mourn you, or will they try and forget this blotch of stupidity, that their child insulted the Jory publicly, ever happened to their family? Your thoughts are cut short as I now stand face to face with you. I grab your face and pull you even closer.* Playin?! There was nothing playing… no playing you fuck. No playing… it was real.. the realest thing I’ve ever know.. felt… Love. I loved them… Blaiz…. Chas-Chas… Funk… I loved all three of em… but they…*My face is wet with tears and I’m blinking constantly in vain to hold them back.* They left me… left… *Almost instantly the sadness leaves my face and is replaced with pure anger.* Playin? Playin?! *My hand leaves your face and starts to head to what you think is the gun. You close your eyes and see God looking at you, shrugging. ‘Pft, you brought this upon yourself dude.’ He says as he waves his hands at you dismissively. But instead of the gun, my hands grab yours. Your eyes jolt open and the anger is gone from my face. There is only sadness.* Left me… * I fall to the floor and sob.*Wow, grow up. *You say before you leave the bar but are hit almost immediately from a car and are killed upon impact.*
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Target, Tumblr, and Blog: stinkfight: i rly enjoy drawing his eyes like this

stinkfight: i rly enjoy drawing his eyes like this

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