#I can hear stanley asking that question LMAO

[monokuromuheaven]

Vancouver actor Carlos Diehz’s big break comes in Ralph Fiennes film

(...)

“He (Edward Berger) wanted to hear from me what I had in mind for the character,” said Diehz, adding he explained to Berger that he saw Benitez as “a very pious man.”

“If he was a missionary, then an archbishop, then a cardinal, he has what it takes to lead a group. To be at the front,” said Diehz. “I discussed these ideas with Edward, and he liked them.”

Eventually, Diehz made the final callback and was brought to Rome to meet with casting director Nina Gold (The Crown, Slow Horses, Star Wars and Game of Thrones).

“She’s a big deal worldwide,” said Diehz about Gold. “So, no pressure, right?”

(...)

While he was onset, Diehz said he noticed Fiennes was watching him. Finally, Fiennes approached and said: “Now I know why they chose you. You are Benitez,” Diehz recalls the English actor saying to him. “He saw in me the personality of the character.”

Diehz was raised Catholic and understood the basics of the conclave process, but admitted the weight of the subject matter really hit home when he donned the heavy cardinal costume.

“When you look at yourself in the mirror dressed up like that, like someone that grand within the church, it is like an extra boost emotionally to perform,” said Diehz.

“Now I see Benitez the way he is in this situation. Benitez is a missionary who mostly dresses like any other civilian in his daily life, but here he has to dress the part. He has to look like the rank he has been given. So, being able to look at myself like that is kind of a strange situation. But very empowering.”

What was also empowering was the wealth of talent and experience he was surrounded with for his very first feature film role. His castmates were open to discussions and offered him excellent advice.

Fiennes, for instance, spoke to him about the importance of truly being heard.

“He said, ‘OK, every word you say is precious. And you have to deliver it as such. You have to put the time in, the correct enunciations, so the audience understands and is not wondering what you said … Treat every word as precious. So, I did that,” said Diehz. “The next day, when we were shooting the scene, every break we had I was rehearsing my enunciation, and I heard Ralph from another part of the area, he just said, ‘Bravo, you nailed it.'”

Later in shooting, Diehz faced a crisis of confidence as he prepared for a pivotal scene in which Benitez makes a speech in front of the 100-plus cardinals. This time, it was Lithgow who offered guidance.

“He asked me what are the main issues I wanted to talk about? And I said stage fright,” said Diehz. “He said stage fright really never goes away. You just learn how to manage stage fright. One of the things is when you feel it, it is a sign that you care about the scene. And that’s good.

“But what must guide you, drive you, is to know that when you speak there is no reason to hurry your lines. There’s no reason to feel rushed in any way because you control the scene. No one is cutting you off. Nobody is going to rush you. When they call ‘action,’ until you finish your lines, you own the scene. You set the pace and the tone. So that was very empowering, very powerful stuff.”

But despite Lithgow’s words of encouragement, Diehz said his nerves were still front and centre when it was time to shoot the speech.

“Edward Berger approached me and said, ‘You doing OK? I said, ‘Yeah, yeah I’m fine.’ And he said, ‘I can hear your heartbeat on the microphone,’ ” said Diehz. “So I was, ‘OK, big breath, calm down, calm down, calm down.’ And little by little, I did.”

While filming scenes caused his blood pressure to rise, Diehz says the evenings were made up of many wonderfully relaxing dinners of fabulous traditional Italian food alongside his very famous castmates.

And no, Tucci didn’t cook.

“You know what, that is a common question,” said Diehz when asked about his foodie co-star. “Being at a table with Ralph, Stanley, John, Isabella and talking about wine, cheeses, bread, it was wonderful. You could make a documentary of each of those dinners we had together,” said Diehz, who explained it was Rossellini who offered much of the insight into the nuances of Italian food.

(...)

“I remember Stanley asked me, ‘Are you really, after all this, going back to your daily job?’ Well, yeah, that’s what I have,” said Diehz, who continues to work for a Vancouver architectural firm. “But I’m not quitting acting. I’m going for more.”

Source

[crosscheckings]

the passenger - screening and q&a with carter smith | horrorigins fest 9/28/24

so there was a screening of the passenger at horrorigins fest in tucson, az over this weekend that had a theater screening of the passenger and then a live q&a with carter smith afterward!

there were some really good questions and there's some video on horrorigins instagram (here and here, they haven't posted a full but i know there were several people recording and the festival is ongoing through today so they may post full video later) but some highlights:

he reiterated a lot of things that he's said in interviews about the script (so i won't go into detail about that)

he talked about his background at FIT and how benson's wardrobe was extremely intentionally chosen, and that the costume designer wanted to kill him bc the exact shade of his cardigan took three times to dye to get it right, it's also acrylic and very itchy (he has one too lmao)

he said that he gave johnny and kyle freedom to improvise on the script as much as they needed/wanted but that for the most part they stuck to it

burgers burgers burgers was a convenience store that they cleaned out and the stuffed animal place was in an actual empty mall that was "abandoned" (he mentioned there were like 7 empty malls they could have used, this one was completely empty so they didn't have to shut it down but idk if it was abandoned in the traditional sense)

he talked about the close ups and how much he loved kyle and johnny's faces and how he could shoot the whole thing in close up

the script was originally called "Randolph Bradley" which he did like but marketing didn't think would grab people and he also likes The Passenger for the movie they ended up making

i wish they had given the audience members mics when they asked their questions bc i'm watching the recording back to make sure i don't misquote something so i can't really hear some of the questions :( they also didn't upload the whole thing as of yet so the rest of this isn't verbatim but:

he agrees that at its core its a love story! when i asked my question i said "i wanted to touch on the love story comment from earlier" (bc someone else briefly mentioned it before asking a diff question) and he was like "i ALSO want to talk about the love story more!!" and was very excited that i brought up that "there's obviously a queer undertone to the film" and he just talked about what he saw in the script and how that came about, again said that jack stanley was like there's no romance but carter was like ummm anyway

he said that "this was the best thing to happen to either of them" (randy and benson) and agreed with someone who had described them as two sides of the same coin

he said that blumhouse also wanted them to lean into the weird romance aspect of it (or were okay with it), kyle was incredibly down to lean into the weird romance and was like "can we make it MORE gay"

afterward the fest went to a bar and mostly everyone went! so we actually got to hang out with carter just me and my friend and we talked a little bit more about the film and just other movies that he's enjoyed, we talked about his weekly newsletter, just random stuff like that. some highlights of that:

he said that kyle was all in on the queer undertone and was like can i touch johnny MORE

he said that there is a scene where benson touches randy again in a way that is similar in vibe to the scene in the mall parking lot where he touches his neck/wipes his tears but that they ended up cutting it because he (Carter) felt like it would undermine the emotional impact of that particular touch! he didn't expand on what the touch was or where exactly it went (he said it was after the teacher but didn't specify if it was after shepherd or mrs beard but i imagine he meant shepherd)

carter said that he would absolutely do a full up and down queer movie with kyle (if it was ever the right fit rather than writing a role for that reason)

it was really great and so interesting to hear his thoughts on the film and on filmmaking as a whole! he is really friendly and super nice and really knowledgeable. he had so much good stuff to say about the industry and he couldn't get enough of praising johnny and kyle both for their performances (rightly so) and what a good time he had making the movie.

bonus:

carter was kind enough to sign my poster (which he reposted the picture of on instagram). (i go into more detail about this event and stuff here) he also gleefully took photos of the saint randy and saint benson candles i made (because i am insane) and said he was going to send them to johnny and kyle because they would love them. kyle also reposted the picture of me and my friend the festival posted of us with the candles so now i am just dryheaving in my room. <3

anyway! support your local film festivals!! without horrorigns this wouldn't have been possible so support local and indie filmmakers and local and independent film festivals! <33

[marvelslut16]

I Promise

Pairing: Stanley Uris x Bowers!Reader (young) 

Request/synopsis: “Hi! If you’re still writing Stanley Uris, could you write a little childhood piece taking place during the first movie where the reader is one of the bullies’ little sister and hates what her brother and his friends are doing to the losers and starts to hanging out with them and the boys make fun of Stan because it’s obvious that he likes her and one day they’re walking and end up on the kissing bridge and he just starts rambling to her about something he saw and she interrupts him by kissing him”

Word count: 4,390 I think I got carried away

Warnings: Swearing. Mentions of attempted murder? Use of the term flamer, it means flamboyant gay, Stan is called that by Patrick in the books. Mentions a lewd act that happens in the book as well. Violence from a brother. Bullying. Some angst? Pennywise, that should definitely be a warning lmao.  Blood/gore/violence, typical for the IT fandom. Sort of mentions character death.

A/N: Sorry if this wasn’t exactly what you wanted, I tried to do this request justice (since it was my first! Thank you to the anon that asked for it!) but I definitely took it on an angsty ride lol. I definitely focused more on Henry and the time in the sewers than I originally planned.  Sorry this took so long as well, I wasn’t sure how to fit all of my ideas together. I really like how this turned out, but it’s also like two in the morning so there could be typos. 

Do you like being Henry's little sister? Of course not. Siblings or not, Henry treats you like shit too, at least he has the decency to keep it behind closed doors. On top of that, everyone avoids you, expecting you to be just like your brother or Greta. Greta is relatively nice to you, or as nice as demon spawn can be, she never makes fun of you or bullies you, she even tries to include you in her shit. Thinking, like everyone, that Henry actually likes you; and this way she can make a good impression and he can finally ask her out. 

You walk out of the front doors of the school on the last day to see your lovely brother and his idiot friends teasing Stan and his group of friends, stealing the curly-haired boys kippah. Richie, being his typical self, starts screaming and insulting Henry, making him angrier. Henry takes said anger out on Stan, pushing him to the ground and pulling his leg back to kick the smaller boy in the side. 

“Hey!” you scream and rush over to the scene, before you can realize what you're doing. 

“Come to defend your boyfriend?” your brother sneers before laughing like a lunatic. 

“Back off Henry,” you glare at him, stepping between him and Stan. You can hear the poor boy behind you struggling to stand up.

“Or what?” Henry leans in, face inches from yours. He has never made his dislike for you public, even his friends are shocked by his actions. “You gonna run home and tell Dad?”

“Tempting,” you push him away from your face, mindful that your father is on duty somewhere in the ocean of students. As he’s distracted by the shove, you yank the kippah free from his grasp. “You want them, you go through me.”

“That can be arranged,” he grits his teeth, gesturing for his friends to grab you. 

They look shocked for a second, before Belch wraps his large arms around your middle to hold you back. Your brother smirks at you as he advances on Stan, preparing to punch him. Your pleas for him to stop advancing on the loser’s, as they’re dubbed, fall on deaf ears. 

“Let go of me you creep!” you yell at Belch, before slamming your foot down on his. He lets go of you before bouncing around in pain, like a stupid cartoon character. You run between Henry and the Losers, but not before he can shove Richie to the ground. “Go home Henry,” you shove his chest again. 

“You can’t make me,” he flips open his switchblade as he advances on you. The rest of the world seems to still and all you can think is will Henry really hurt you? You hear the muffled cries from the boys behind you get louder with each step your brother takes towards you.

“What’s going on here?” your dad's voice cuts through the haze, Henry backs off and hides his knife before Dad can see. 

“I was just offering her a ride home,” Henry scowls as he turns to your father.

“And I was telling him that I was going to go hang out with my friends,” you use your thumb to point at the boys behind you. Your Dad eyes them wearily before ultimately coming to the conclusion that they’re a harmless group of nerds. He nods at you and sends Henry a small glare that if you blink you’ll miss before heading back the way he came. 

“Watch yourself,” Henry warns before making his way to Belch’s car, friends in tow. You let out a sigh as they drive away, shoulders slumping as your adrenaline wears off.

“I think this belongs to you,” you smile at Stan, handing him his kippah.

“Thanks,” he breathes, he looks like he wants to continue speaking but no words come out. As he grabs the kippah from you, his fingers brush against yours and a blush creeps up his cheeks. You grin at how adorable he is. 

“Are you guys okay?” you glance between him and Richie. Stan just nods and Richie rolls his eyes at the doe eyed look his friend is giving you. 

“I’d say we didn’t need your help, but Stan the man here certainly liked being your damsel in distress,” Richie smacks a hand on Stan’s shoulder and laughs, you soon join in. Stan smacks the boy with the glasses harder than you think anyone realized he could. “Ow, that fucking hurt” Richie whines, rubbing his arm and sulking off to Eddie. 

“D-do y-y-you wan-nt to go-o to the qu-qu-quarry wi-with us?” Bill asks and Richie smirks at the idea.

“I should go before Henry gets even more mad,” you play with the hem of your shirt. “But thank you for asking.”

“Please,” Richie clasps his hands and blinks dramatically at you, sticking his bottom lip out in an over dramatic pout. 

“Why not?” you grin at the losers, but at Stan the most. 

--

Over the following weeks you grow closer to the boys; Bev, Mike, and Ben too when they join the losers club. One day the eight of you are at the quarry trying to ignore the whole killer clown thing. Stan looks nervous about jumping into the water, even though you’ve seen him do it multiple times already. So you decide to grab his hand and pull him down with you withput warning. He lets out a high pitched screech that you almost can’t hear over the wind whipping past you. 

Once you and Stan, the last two to jump down, break the water's surface Richie grabs Eddie repeatedly screaming the word chicken and shaking the smaller boy. Bev grabs Ben’s hand to which he grins at. Richie and Bill share a look before the stuttering boy wades over to you. 

“W-w-will you b-be my par-pa-partner?” Bill smiles at you, his eyes sparkling in the sunlight. 

“Of course!” you smile at your friend, happy that the group accepted you quickly even though you’re a Bowers. You don’t see the glare Stan is sending Bill as he pairs up with Mike. Richie smirks at the rest of the group, you and Stan oblivious to the looks they send each other and their plan to make Stan so jealous he tells you how he feels. 

--

“So Stan,” Richie sings.

“No,” Stan says, watching you and Bev ride your bikes to your house for a sleepover. Her dad was worse than normal lately and she needed an escape, and you loved the escape it created from your brother. 

“I never asked my fucking question,” the boy with the coke-bottle glasses pouts.

“Because nothing good ever comes out of your mouth,” Stan deadpans, finally turning to look at his friends. You rode past the curve at the end of the road effectively taking you out of Stan’s line of sight, so he had no reason not to look at his friends now. 

“You were holding hands with (Y/N),” Eddie speaks up from Richie’s side. “Which is just fucking disgusting! Do you know how many germs-”

 His voice is cut off when Richie slaps his hand over the smaller boy's mouth. The look of terror on the hypochondriac’s face is one that Richie won’t stop laughing at for years to come. 

“She pulled me off the ledge,” Stanley rolls his eyes, suppressing a blush as he remembers how soft and warm your hand was. “It meant nothing.”

“And big Bill doesn’t fucking stutter,” Richie rolls his brown eyes, which look like googly eyes since they’re magnified by his glasses. 

“What?” Stan asks looking at the road in front of him, not wanting his friends to see how red his face and ears are. 

“I thought we were coming up with obvious lies,” Richie shrugs. “You’ve been in fucking love with her since you two got paired up at the beginning of the damn school year.”

“Have not!” Stan tries to lie, but his face darkens three shades deeper. The red instantly gives his obvious feelings away to his smirking friends. 

“It’s that or you have rosacea,” Edidie looks up at the Jewish boy with mock innocent eyes. “Because your cheeks are bright red every time you're around her.” Stan doesn’t respond because he knows they’re right, so he just walks away from them.

--

“Do you like Stan?” Bev giggles at the sleepover. The two of you had been talking about her and Ben prior to the question. 

“Yeah,” you mumble, looking down at your hands resting in your lap. “He’s so nice, and so sweet, and so caring. Plus, he went out of his way to help me when I was confused in class this year.”

“Yeah-” you cut off the redhead. 

“And the way his curls fall in front of his eyes when he’s leaning forward, so he has to angrily huff at it to try to blow the curl away. And the way his face scrunches up all adorably when he’s concentrating on a hard problem.”

Before you can continue fawning over your friend, your door slams open. It hits the wall behind it with a loud crack, where you later find a hole in the wall the handle created. In the doorway is a pissed off Henry, steam practically shooting out of his ears. 

“I thought I told you to stay away from him and the rest of those fucking losers?” he shouts, you’re dad isn’t here to hear him. “And now I hear you talking about that damn flamer with the schools slut no less.”

“Funny that you call Stan a flamer,” you smirk at your brother as you stand from the bed, subtly stepping in front of  Bev so she’s behind you and away from your brother's wrath. “When Patrick gave you a hand job.” 

“How the fuck did you hear about that?” he slams his fist into the wall beside him, knocking off a framed photo of a bird Stan had sketched for you during the school year. 

“I saw it with my own two eyes, dumb ass,” you sneer at him. “Next time you want to get a hand job from your boyfriend, don’t do it at the dump.”

“I’m gonna kill you,” he roars, closing in on you. Bev lets out a small gasp behind you, you feel bad she has to witness this. Especially when she came here to get away from her dad.

“Go ahead, then run off to get your oral from him,” you laugh. Before Henry can do anything else, the front door opens and your dad calls for you two. You sigh in relief as your older brother storms out of your room. You and Bev never bring up what was said or what just happened. 

--

You got separated from Stan while in Neibolt, but luckily Bill was with you. The horrors you all faced in that run down house will forever haunt each and every one of you. You’re shaking slightly as Stan and you cling onto each other as the two of you walk out of that horrendous place. 

You gasp loudly and hide your face in Stan’s chest as Bill punches Richie in the face. Your body starts to shake slightly without your permission, being taken back to when Henry punched the wall a few days prior. Bev pulls you into her side as Stan and Mike help Richie up. Bill goes for Richie again, but Ben holds him back. Richie yells back in retaliation.

“Stop,” you whimper, body trembling worse. Visions of your dad and Henry yelling at each other and shoving one another flash through your mind. A memory of Henry punching the locker beside your head when you were the last two in school floats to the forefront of your mind. “Please.”

Stan immediately rushes over to you and pulls you into his chest, you don’t care if he finds out about your feelings anymore as you grip onto his striped polo. He’s an anchor in the storm of your mind. Even when Henry isn’t around, he’s still lurking in the back of your mind making sure he can hurt you. The rest of the group stops what they’re doing for a minute to glance at the two of you before walking in two separate directions. Bev gives your shoulder a reassuring squeeze as she leaves. 

“How about I walk you home? Stan offers, rubbing his hand in a calming motion on your back. 

“Can we go on a walk instead?” you ask nervously, pulling away slightly. He keeps his arms wrapped around you as he studies your face. He keeps his arm around your shoulder as you walk through the park. 

You and Stan take a seat in front of  the giant Paul Bunyan statue, soaking up the summer sun and the sounds of the birds singing. For the next several hours you and Stan lay side by side on the grass as he points out different birds and tells you about them. Your heart pounds every time your fingers brush against each other as they lay in between you. Your body and heart are aching to slip your fingers through his, but your mind is telling you no. You ultimately listen to your mind, feeling dissatisfied with yourself at the awkward wave he gives you as he drops you off at your house. 

--

The days where the losers are fighting rush by, each of them spent doing something with Stan. before you know it, it’s nearing the end of the summer and Pennywise is gone. You reluctantly take part in the blood oath, wanting to leave this town as soon as you turn eighteen and never look back. But you would do anything for your friends, even risk your life for them again. As you're hugging Bev goodbye, you can’t believe she’s really leaving, Stan comes up beside you. 

“Will you go on a walk with me?” Stan asks timidly, not meeting your eyes. The puffy bandages around his face make your heart lurch at the thought of how much pain he must have endured. 

“Sure,” you nod even though he’s staring at the ground in front of his feet. Bev gives you a smile and a slight shove in encouragement. You give her one last smile as you start off down the trail, Stan taking long strides to catch up. 

“What happens now?” Stan asks, his fingers brush against yours as you walk side by side. 

“My aunt’s moving here, so I’m staying,” you don’t turn to look at him, scared to face more disappointment. 

You stop walking when you two reach the kissing bridge, not that you expected anything to happen, but it was a nice view. You look down to see the small S inside the heart you carved earlier in the year, it sits near Richie’s R + E. You absentmindedly rub your wrist, Henry had grabbed you so hard he bruised you when he caught you with his missing switchblade. But it was worth it, in twenty or thirty years from now those markings would still be there, your own little mark on history. 

“I’m glad,” Stan says it so quietly he doesn’t think you’ll hear him, but you do. You glance up at him and immediately frown as you get a better look at the bandages wrapped around his face. It takes you back to the day in the sewers, the day he yelled at you. 

“Stan!” you scream in fear as you wade through the grey water. Your heart is pounding in your chest, this can’t be happening! You can’t lose him, not Stan. One minute he was with the group and the next he's gone. “What if IT got him?” your voice shakes in fear.

“You can’t think like that,” Richie says firmly, but you can hear the fear in his voice. 

Before you can respond you hear a scream, one eerily familiar to when you pulled Stan off the ledge at the quarry. “Stan!” you scream again as you run past your friends through the dark smelly sewers to find the curly haired boy that you care for. 

You reach the closed door at the end of the tunnel, opening the rusty metal on your own thanks to the adrenaline rush. Your friends' screams of Stanley get louder as they catch up to you. All six of you rush through the door and look for Stan in the large underground room. You walk around and come face to face with the creepy women from the painting he hates eating his face. A strangled sound somewhere between a gasp and a whimper escapes your mouth, alerting your friends that you found him. 

“What the fuck is that?” Richie asks as Eddie shines Stan’s discarded flashlight at the thing. The multiple rows of teeth finally let go of Stan and the lady looks at the lot of you.

“Get off of him!” you scream, reaching down beside you and grabbing a rusty pipe. You chuck the metal at the creature smacking it in the middle of the face, it opens its mouth and hisses at you before retreating. 

You all breathe a small sigh of release, until Pennywise peeks his head out from behind the corner. All six of you let out high pitched screams, but all you can think about is Stan’s safety not your own. As Pennywise hides behind the corner again you run and drop to your knees at Stan’s side, the rest of the boys quickly following suit. You reach out and touch his arm, muttering his name in a soft calming voice, but all he does is scream in terror. 

“Get off me!” he pushes six pairs of hands off of him as he scrambles away from you and the rest of the losers club. “You left me! You took me to Neibolt! You aren’t my friends!” 

“Stan, we were looking for you. We were so worried, I was so worried,” your hand gently touches his cheek, trying to see how much physical damage IT had caused.

“Get away from me!” he glares at you as he smacks your hand away from him. “You're no better than Henry! Worse than him! You tricked me into being your friend just so you could hurt me!”

You rip yourself away from the curly haired boy so fast you fall flat on your ass as you try to move away. You gasp and tears fill your eyes, Bill’s hand gently squeezes your shoulder. He had been with you at Neibolt, he saw that your fear was Henry. Your feelings for Stan were obvious, so the accusations made the rest of the boys angry at Stan for hurting you. Tears fall quickly from your cheeks as you stand and back away from the group. You need to get out of there, away from Stan, away from the pain. 

The rest of the losers back away from their friend and get ready to search for their favorite redhead. You all find Bev quickly, and you smirk as Ben kisses her to wake her up. Pennywise soon appears, attacking Bill first, the rest of you try to fight the clown but it doesn’t work.

“Let him go!” Bev’s plea reminds you of yours from earlier. 

“No, I’ll take him” IT shakes its head with a grin. The killer clown explains to the group how it will eat your flesh as it feasts on your fears. “I’ll take him and only him,” IT offers. 

“Leave,” Bill begs the losers.

“I’m gonna have to kill this fucking clown,” Richie complains. “Welcome to the losers club asshole!” he screams, hitting Pennywise in the face with a discarded baseball bat. 

Chaos erupts, everyone grabs for a weapon to fight the clown with. As everyone starts attacking IT with the garbage they found, IT manages to slip away. You all decide, stupidly, to split up and look for Pennywise. 

“Good morning sunshine,” Henry’s annoying voice whispers into your right ear, dialogue straight from an incident where he almost seriously injured you. “Dad’s not home.” You can hear the smirk in IT’s voice.

“This isn’t real! You aren’t Henry! You aren’t real!” you scream, the losers stop their search for the clown and watch on nervously. 

“It’s time to play sis!” IT laughs like a maniac as he walks in front of you, you're forced to stare up into IT’s eyes. Pennywise steps closer so you step back, which you do again and again. A replica of Henry’s switchblade pops open and is pointed directly at your gut. “Daddy dearest isn’t home to stop me!”

“Go through with it! Do it! Do what the real Henry never had the guts to do!” you scream at your brother- well Pennywise. He has you backed into a wall, switchblade dully pushing into you just above your navel. Your chest rising and falling rapidly as you pant, angry tears mixing with the heartbroken ones from earlier as you stare defiantly at the thing that had been after you and your friends all summer.  

IT backs away slowly, your brothers-Pennywise’s- head tilting to the side as he studies you. A grin too large to be humanly possible splits across Henry’s face, rows of teeth on display as IT laughs in delight. You see your friends inching closer to you and the clown, you make eye contact with Richie giving him a slight shake of your head. He sighs in defeat, grabbing both Stan and Eddie pulling them back, the rest of the losers halt when they realize what the trashmouth did. 

“You were easy to crack,” IT giggles loudly, shifting back into a clown. IT lifts a hand up, finger tracing your cheek down to your throat, stopping directly over your artery.   

“Take me and leave my friends alone!” you glare up at IT. 

As the clown goes to open its mouth, Ben comes out of nowhere and stabs IT right in the back. The rest of the losers start attacking IT again, the clown shifts from fear to fear in hopes of getting one of the losers to stop. It shifts to Bev’s father, so she stabs a rusty rod right down IT’s throat in order to make him go away. The clown convulses and backs away from the group. 

“That’s why you didn’t kill (Y/N) and Bev, because they weren’t afraid of you!” it’s the first time you’ve ever heard Bill not stutter. “We aren’t afraid of you. Now it’s your turn to be afraid, because you’ll starve.” IT flips itself into a hole that leads lower into the sewer system, letting go and disintegrating before Bill can whack IT with a pipe. 

You all stare in shock for a few moments before making your way out of the sewers and towards your homes. The losers all talking amongst themselves, all but you. you’re ahead of the group, wanting to put as much distance between you and Stan as you possibly can. Eddie too, he had already asked what you meant while Pennywise was still Henry. Two conversations you definitely didn’t want to have. 

“(Y/N/N)? You okay?” Stan’s distant and worried voice breaks you out of your memories. “Where were you just now?”

“I’m fine,” you lie and he can tell by the flash of pain that crosses your face. “Just thinking about the other day.”

“I didn’t mean what I said,” Stan frowns, turning away from the carvings on the wood to face you fully. “I wasn’t in the right head space-”

“It’s fine,” you murmur, fingers gently running over the S carved into the wood.

“No it isn’t,” he says firmly, you look at him with wide eyes. You weren’t expecting him to get so serious about it. “IT messed with my head, made me see things that weren’t true and I took it out on you.” 

“Stan, I get it. IT knew how to hurt us most,” you reach over and lightly wrap your hand around his in a reassuring gesture. He stares down at your joined hands for a moment, ears turning a vibrant red, before continuing with his explanation. 

“He showed me a vision of you and Bill kissing,” Stan flips his hand over and laces his fingers with yours. 

“What-” you’re eyebrows furrow as you watch his face grow from pink to red. 

“I like you, (Y/N). A lot. And when IT showed me that it broke my heart. Deep down I knew it wasn’t real, but it felt so real. I’ve liked you since the beginning of the school year, and I never had the guts to tell you. Because why would you like me? You could have any guy, how could you ever possibly want me-” you cut him off by gently pressing your lips to his. It’s a soft and fast peck, but you still pull away smiling. “What?”

“I like you too, you loser. For just as long, I was scared to say anything because of Henry,” you giggle at his shock, mouth open and eyes wide. “Close your mouth or you’ll catch flies.”

“Speaking of Henry,” Stan’s mouth snaps shut before his lips pull into a deep frown. “What did you mean back in the sewers?” You sigh, not wanting to admit it allowed. Stan pushes a strand of hair away from your face before cupping your cheek gently. 

“Henry thought I broke his Atari, so he screamed at me endlessly and threatened to kill me,” you admit softly, rage and sadness battle within Stan’s eyes as he takes in the information. “It wasn’t the first time he threatened that, but it seemed different that time. My dad had no idea, he only heard some of the yelling, which he screamed at Henry for doing. So that made Henry even more mad at me. But anyway, it turns out that it was Belch that broke it.”

“(Y/N),” Stan says softly, pulling you into his embrace. “I’ll never let anyone else hurt you.”

“Promise?” you ask hopefully, could you really finally be happy? 

“I promise,” he kisses your forehead softly. “I know this isn’t great timing, but will you be my girlfriend?”

“I’d love to,” you grin at him, gently caressing the bandages as you pull him in for another kiss.

tags: @crimson-knuckled-queen​ @rexorangecouny​

[raviposting]

oh my gosh give me that andy and oscar content! how do you think the writers could have made them a couple in s5/6? like what would you have like to see?

Oh BLESS you anon okay I fully think they could have ran with it please forgive this LONG-ass list that’s definitely getting put under a read-more: 

The Canon Shit: 

Our first real Andy/Oscar interaction is in “Business Trip” (5x08) where Andy and Oscar go with Michael on his trip and end up bonding. We see Andy’s sense of dissatisfaction with his relationship with Angela, along with Andy trying very hard to set Oscar up with two men - two men who outright think that Andy is Oscar’s boyfriend (and most probably think that he’s trying to pull a foursome because Andy, bless him, so so so bad at this). 

Their matchup is extremely fun and after this, we see that the two have become friends, even if it’s not showcased super heavily - Andy remarks that this trip was fun because he got to know Oscar, Oscar seems to have softened up to Andy, and we know that they hang out in the office. They both were the ones who wrote the captions under Pam’s printer picture, they both walk into Michael’s dance party in Cafe Disco, Oscar is the one who tells everyone where Andy is in the Valentines ep s5. 

Honestly, Oscar tends to only acknowledge Andy in a group at times too? Like there’s an episode where Oscar gets a bike and the entire office congratulates him and Oscar proceeds to say, “I feel like a tourist in my own city, Andy.” In Trivia, the entire office once again shows up and Oscar says, “What are you doing here Andy?” even though the entire office is there (and, they realize it’s a gay bar and it’s Andy who makes the comment “I”m up for anything” which is immediately perceived as him being gay, but it’s only Andy who does that, not a single other character). 

Andy has a huge thing on being perceived as gay. This could be him being insecure as a heterosexual man as Oscar puts it, but it could be him having internalized homophobia, or him having internalized biphobia. 

In Cafe Disco, when Kelly is piercing his ear, Andy worriedly asks, “It’s not the gay one, is it?” As Kelly (rightfully) replies, it’s a self-conscious look, but Andy is worried that people are going to look at him and “tell” that he’s gay. 

 When Michael starts spreading more rumors around the office to cover up the fact that Stanley is having an affair, he spreads that Andy is gay, Angela is having an affair with a billionaire, Jim/Pam are pregnant, etc. However, there were three rumors that were at full front and center here - Stanely having an affair (true, confirmed, Michael spread this one first), Pam being pregnant (true, Michael didn’t realize he was saying a true one), and Andy being gay. It’s interesting that when Andy hears that rumor, he immediately gets upset and asks who from his past life could have said that.  Throughout the entire episode, he states that he’s “confused”, talks to Oscar about this and says in his “fantasy” that Brad Pitt would probably come onto him and he’d reject him, but then after another try he’d go ahead. Oscar tells him sure, he could be gay, and it’s seen more as Andy being a heterosexual man who’s insecure, but also - Andy has a few pauses when he’s describing this, and after Oscar asks him if he’s attracted to men, and as someone who’s straight-up lied to friends if a question that related to me being bi came up, I kind of see the same things I used to do popping up there.

Also with Andy’s family, we see that they well, suck. It’s not too far out-there for me to think that his family probably wasn’t the most ~progressive~ and had more than a few comments on gay men growing up, and that Andy, who tries everything to please them, would repress a part of himself that hard. 

Also Oscar probably wouldn’t say anything?? Like he said in the Singles ep, he once admitted feelings for a guy and the guy (who was gay) said that he wasn’t in order to avoid going out with Oscar, and as far as Oscar knows, Andy is straight and was literally engaged to Angela. Oscar also just came out of a serious relationship with Gil so I can so, so see him realizing he likes Andy but also telling himself that it’s not going to happen and that he’s not going to put himself out there like that again. 

Also not going to lie I realized that the same episode the entire office finds out Oscar is gay is the first episode that Andy shows up. Coincidence? PROBABLY. Will I still use it as a thinly veiled example of how this symbolizes that Oscar being explicitly seen as gay is the same episode that Andy appears and there’s symbolism there? You bet!

How Could It Have Happened, You Ask? 

Honestly maybe if they had done this in season 5 and season 6, where Andy continues to think about the “rumor” about it and why he keeps giving it so much credit, to the point where he needs Michael, who literally pulled it from nothing, to confirm if he’s gay or not. 

We could see Andy going on super cute (and honestly, probably disastrous) dates with guys. Maybe he calls Oscar in to help him out and Oscar is like “Andy. You realize that every time this has happened they think we’re a couple.” Andy: “Really? Why?” [cue oscar staring at the camera in his talking head] 

We could see Oscar letting himself feel more and more for Andy too, and some more talking heads to go into his thought process, or a nice scene with Kevin where Kevin is just giddy about the two of them (or, in Office-style, giggling madly while going, “gay”. You know, either/or) 

Also asdfjkl Andy doing a whole coming out speech to the office and they just are like. Yeah. We know? And he’s like oh come on guys! 

Unfortunately this erases Andy/Erin which I really liked BUUUT also they fucked them up anyway so I’d way rather have it have never existed lmao

I think another time this probably could have happened was in like, s8/9? When Andy became a huge dick? So instead of him being a major douchebag maybe him coming back and being like hey guys, I like guys, and also I’m back now - it’d fit in as one of the storylines that happened off-screen (such as Ryan getting off drugs) and we could see him exploring having a relationship, instead of him being like....That(TM) the entire season. 

Also idk I see him as bi but I can also definitely see gay and I feel like a lot of what I wrote as moreso showing him with internalized homophobia? And it’d be interesting to see how Andy views his relationships with women + his disregard on Erin/their relationship factors in with his view on what heteronormative relationships are like instead of just like, the shitty writing that kind of just fucked up his character towards the end there but yeah

But yeah it’s just??? I’m way more passionate about this than I thought lmao but I just!!! I’m rewatching s6 rn and I’m so happy with these seasons and I love that now I also love Oscar/Andy bc it allows me to be happy with even the smaller moments and look at everything and yeah!!! I can’t wait to pick up some fanfic on the show and read it because I know there’s a solid like, 12 fics up there and I respect it 

[petersasteria]

Anger Issues - Harry Holland

Requested? Nope. I’ve been meaning to write this for so long and decided “fuck it” whether ppl will read it or not lmao what’s important is I finally release some decent content and I like it and that’s important.

Pairing: Harry x Reader

Words: 4,307

Masterlist 

* * * *

"Please wait here and the doctor will call you when it's your turn." the assistant tells you before leaving the waiting room. You look around and see two guys there. One of them had his hands in his pockets, his hood up, and his head nodding along to the music going through his earphones. In short, he looks like your average everyday mysterious emo guy from high school. The other guy looks the total opposite. He was like the guy everyone liked, but not exactly popular. He was on his phone, chuckling from time to time. He was wearing a blue sweater and some worn out jeans.

You sit across from them and the two guys look at you. You give them a tight-lipped smile. Emo guys rolled his eyes, but the guy next to him smiles back at you. It wasn't a fake smile either. It was a genuine smile.

'Seems like a nice guy.' you thought to yourself.

The less emo guy puts his phone in his pocket and starts up a conversation, "I've never seen you around here before and we're here every week. What-"

"Can you just shut the fuck up, Thomas? Why do you have to talk all the fucking time?? You're so fucking annoying. Maybe that's why your girlfriend left you for that other guy." emo guy snaps.

You and 'Thomas' look at him. While you were shocked at his mini outburst, 'Thomas' looked like he was used to it, though. "You don't have to speak like that whenever you're annoyed at someone, Harry." Thomas tells him in a soft and comforting voice.

"Wow. Look at you being a big brother for once!" Harry says sarcastically. "And the brother of the year award goes to...Thomas Stanley Holland! Give it up for him everybody!" He claps his hands. At this point, you and Thomas are beginning to feel uncomfortable. Especially you; you've never met these people before.

Thomas looks at you with a sorry expression, "I'm sorry about Harry. Anyway, I assume you heard my name already-"

"Of course she did. She has ears, dipshit." Harry mutters under his breath before taking his phone out of his pocket and scrolling through it.

"You can call me 'Tom'." Tom smiles, ignoring Harry. "What's your name?"

"Y/N." you tell him. Tom nods before looking at Harry then at you. He gets up from his seat and immediately sits next to you. You were a bit... scared. A stranger suddenly sits next to you after his brother shouts at him in anger isn't exactly an ideal way of meeting and getting to know someone.

Tom seems to notice your change of demeanor and chuckles, "I won't do anything, don't worry. It's just nice to see someone else in this place on a Saturday morning. It's usually just me and him and sometimes Sam, our brother, tags along too. But most of the time, just me and him."

You nod and feel yourself getting comfortable with Tom. "So, why are you alone? It's hard seeing a psychiatrist alone for the first time. I mean, it's not Harry's first time here, that's for sure. But if I were in your place, coming here with someone closest to me would make me feel less scared and nervous. Even if they don't go inside the room with you, it's nice to know that there's someone in the waiting room who's waiting for you and who's there for you every step of the way." Tom rambles.

"My parents dropped me off and then they said that they'll come back for me when I text them as soon as I finish here." you tell him truthfully.

"Well, they're shitty parents." Tom crosses his arms, "No offense."

"None taken." you chuckle. "They are shitty parents, though." Tom laughs and shakes his head.

The door opens and the current patient quickly in tears. The patient practically ran, not giving you a chance to see if it were a girl or boy. You look at the direction they came from and see the psychiatrist standing there. You look at the psychiatrist in fear.

You turn to Tom and whisper, "Why the fuck was that patient crying? Is this lady batshit crazy? Does she always make them cry??"

"Of course not." Tom whispers. "All I know about that last patient is that they're always here three times a week. I know, because I've asked before."

"Harry, you can come in now." the psychiatrist smiles at him. Harry rolls his eyes and stands up, getting his backpack (which needed to be washed) from the floor.

"You'll get through this today, Harry! I'm right here." Tom smiles at him, cheering him on as if Harry were to compete at something. Harry looks at him, gives him a fake smile, and the middle finger before entering the room, the 'click' of the door being closed was heard immediately after he went in.

"Now it's just you and me." Tom says. "What do you usually do here when you're alone waiting for Harry?" you ask curiously, obviously bored out of your mind.

"I just go on my phone. Sometimes I bring my homework and do it here. But since I don't have homework at the moment, I'm as free as a bird." Tom answers. "Speaking of phone, let's exchange numbers! It'll be so much fun having a new friend!"

Thomas Stanley Holland was too bubbly for your liking. But you exchanged numbers anyway. Even social media usernames.

After two hours of chatting with Tom, you come to realize that he's genuinely a nice and friendly guy. You really had fun talking to him. Harry emerges from the room with the same mysterious emo look on his face. "Let's go, Thomas."

"Hey champ! How was it?" Tom smiles.

"Are you fucking mocking me?" Harry asks, his temper slightly rising.

Judging by the little time you've known Harry, you've come to conclusion that he's in therapy for his anger issues. You notice that the little things seem to tick him off. The dude's a fucking time bomb.

"Harry, I was just asking nicely. I didn't mean to offend you. Please don't get mad at me." Tom says in that comforting and soft voice.

An outsider would think that they're complete strangers who are fighting, because at this point, it's hard to believe that they're siblings.

"I wouldn't have gotten mad if you just followed me when I said that we should go home. I wouldn't have gotten mad if you didn't open your fucking mouth." Harry said in sort of a Draco Malfoy tone.

Tom looks at you and quietly says, "I'll text you." He stands up and follows his brother on his way out.

"Y/N, it's your turn." the psychiatrist says.

"Welp, here goes nothing." you say to yourself before going in the room and closing the door.

"Hello Y/N. I'm Dr. Joanne Moore. But you can call me Joanne, so that it's less intimidating." Joanne smiles. "Please take a seat and make yourself comfortable."

Joanne motions for you to sit on the couch while she sits across from you on the spinning office chair everyone loves. You do as she says and you let yourself relax as your gaze wanders around the room. The room was neither small nor large and the only light source was the sun shining outside; its rays coming through the window.

"I understand that you're new here. Where are you from?" Joanne asks.

"New York." you reply. Joanne hums and nods, "Why did you move here?"

"My father is English and my mother is American. My mom told my dad that maybe it'd be best to move to a new environment. She's basically sick of New York. Around the time she said that, my dad got offered a new job here with a salary higher than what he was paid back home. Then, the rest is history." you respond. You've been repeating the same response to your neighbors and to everyone you meet, so you completely memorize it like the back of your hand. You can say shit in your sleep.

"I see. Welcome to London." Joanne smiles. You mutter a small 'thank you' before leaning back on the couch.

"Would you like to tell me why you're here?" Joanne asks.

"I thought you'd never ask." you lightly chuckle.

-

"Y/N, is that you?!" you hear a familiar voice from your left side. You turn your head and see Tom with a smile on his face, "Oh my god, it is you! I didn't know we had the same school. Why didn't you tell me?"

"Um, I didn't think it was necessary?" your answer came out more like a question.

"Of course, it's necessary. We're best friends now!" Tom grins. He looks behind him and says, "Guys, come here!" A group of guys walk in your direction with Harry following behind them.

"Guys, this is Y/N the girl from therapy." Tom introduces. "Y/N, this is the gang: Harrison, Sam, Jacob, and of course you know Harry."

"Hi everyone." you smile politely.

"Hey you don't have an accent too!" Jacob smiles. "I'm from Hawaii. What about you?"

"New York." you smile proudly. You were beginning to feel homesick and talking about New York would make you feel much better.

"That's so awesome! I've been there once. It was family vacation and I had so much fun there! Maybe there was a slight chance we bumped into each other while I was there or something." Jacob tells.

"Are we going to class or are we going to stand here all day while Jacob tells his New York escapade?" a voice from the back startles everyone even though they knew who it belonged to. The five of you look at Harry and mutter apologies to which Harry replied with "whatever" and rolling his eyes before leaving the group.

"My twin has left, lady and gentlemen." Sam says to all of you.

"Wait, he's your twin?" you ask in shock.

"Yup." Sam confirms. "Hard to take in, right?"

You nod in agreement. "Let's go to class. I don't want to be late on my first day." you chuckle nervously.

"You'll be fine! We'll probably have classes with you." Harrison says, calming your nerves a bit. "Good luck if you have a class with Harry, though. He's hard to work with. He kind of wants to do his own thing, but he helps even though he's like that."

Harrison's heads up about Harry made you not want to share a class with him.

Luck wasn't on your side, however. As soon as you enter your first class, which is history, the only empty seat was next to Harry. You take a deep breath before walking to the empty seat next to him.

"Oh great." Harry mumbles. Understanding his issues, you bite back a reply and just take in everything that's happening. Everyone is talking to each other except for you and Harry despite the fact that you know each other. To be fair, you aren't close with him. You're closer with Tom, so you didn't know what Harry liked to talk about.

Just then, the teacher arrives and everyone went to their proper seats. The teacher looked like she was in her mid 30s. She looked nice.

"Before we start, we have a new student from New York." she smiles at you. "Please, introduce yourself to everyone."

Harry turns to you and sees your shocked face. Upon seeing that, he chuckles and shakes his head, "Just get it over with." Hearing Harry being normal sounded so foreign to you, but you took his advice and went on to introduce yourself.

"You don't have to stay here in front. Just stand up and tell us about yourself." the teacher says.

"Okay, um, my name is Y/N Y/L/N and I'm from New York. I just moved here, like, a week ago. So yeah...that's it I guess." you awkwardly say and you sit down.

"Welcome Y/N! I hope you enjoy your stay. My name is Mrs. Smith and I'll be your history teacher." Mrs. Smith says. "Speaking of history, let's get started."

Mrs. Smith began to discuss for the rest of the time. Five minutes before the class ends, Mrs. Smith tells everyone that they'll have a project that'll be done in pairs. You didn't know anyone in class except for Harry and Harrison's warning is at the back of your head. So to say that you didn't know what to do would be an understatement.

"I already have a list of pairs and I'll dictate it." Mrs. Smith says.

'Thank god.' you mutter under your breath.

'Fucking hell.' Harry rolls his eyes.

"Y/N you'll be paired with Harry." Mrs. Smith smiles, before continuing. You look at Harry and he looks at you unimpressed.

"I don't usually allow anyone to work with me, but since you're new and you're practically best friends with my brother, I'll give you a chance. That's as far as I can go with being nice to someone." Harry tells you. You just nod, still kind of intimidated by him. "Also," he says again, "back the fuck off when we're out together. I don't like it when people invade my space." Harry fakes a smile and puts his stuff in his bag. You just stay quiet and do the same.

When Mrs. Smith dismisses the class, Harry immediately left. Of course, you followed. You didn't want to be alone in a room with people you didn't know. You'd much rather be stuck with Tom even though he talks too much and is too bubbly. You'd also prefer if you were stuck with Harry and even though he gets angry all the time and he hardly says anything to you, at least he's someone you know.

As soon as you leave the room, Tom and the rest were there to greet you. "Hey!!!" they all greet cheerfully.

"Oh my god what the fuck did I get myself into?" you ask yourself, putting on a smile for them nonetheless.

"Congrats! You survived your first class in your new school." Jacob says. "Are you ready to go through the rest of the day?"

"As ready as I'll ever be." you respond. It wasn't even at least half of the day and you were already tired. Tom and his friends seem to have a lot of energy and seeing them really energized makes you tired.

-

Saturday comes around again and you're back at therapy. You walk in the waiting room and see Harry there. Now, it's awkward. Like last week, you sit across from Harry and begin to mind your own business. 'He did say "back the fuck off", right?' you think to yourself.

"Tom has a dentist appointment in case you're wondering." Harry's voice startles you. You look up from your phone and see him already looking at you. "It's just me today. Sam is at his part time job and I don't want to bring my youngest brother, Paddy to this depressing place. I don't want him to end up mentally messed up. He doesn't deserve that."

How the fuck are you going to respond to that?

"Oh, I see." you says, still not sure what to reply. "Thanks for telling me, I guess."

"What'll you do after this?" Harry asks curiously.

"I'll probably just walk around or go sight seeing. My parents are on a business trip and all my siblings have their own lives now, because they're older than me." you tell him truthfully. He nods and says, "I have nothing going on at my place at the moment and I want to get away."

You shrug, "Go ahead, then. No one's stopping you."

Harry just stares at you and it's beginning to freak you out, because you don't know if he's going to burst or not. Finally, after almost a minute of silence and staring at each other Harry speaks up, "Do you have money on you?"

"Excuse me?"

Harry rolls his eyes, "Do you have cash right now? I have some stashed in my backpack right now."

"Um, is that even importa-"

"Just answer the fucking question, Becky." Harry says, clearly starting to get annoyed. "Yeah, I do. Why does it matter?" you gulp.

"Good." Harry says. "We'll talk later after your session. It's my turn now." As if on cue, the door opens and the patient from last week quickly runs past you and Harry. He stands up, grabs his backpack and enters the room.

To say you were confused was an understatement. Why was he suddenly talking to you? You decided to text Tom about it.

To: Tom

Hey man hope the dentist thing is going well for u. Harry just said the weirdest shit and idk what to say or feel. Send help xo

You didn't expect a reply, so you went on Instagram and just scrolled through it until it was your turn.

-

After your session, you were surprised to see Harry waiting for you. He looks up from his phone, takes out one of his earphones and asks, "Ready to go? I'm starving." You just nod and off you two went.

Both of you end up at a sandwich shop far from the building. You both eat in silence and it's beginning to feel awkward; for you at least. Harry seemed fine.

"Let's leave London." Harry says all of a sudden, making you choke on your sandwich. "Jesus, are you okay?" he asks with no concern, whatsoever. He's more worried about both of you causing a scene.

You finally calm down and nod, "Now I'm okay. Where are we going?"

Harry shrugs, "Anywhere we set our mind to. I haven't been outside of London for years. Maybe we could go somewhere to experience a new environment or whatever."

"...London is my new environment." you explain to him.

"I know, dipshit." Harry rolls his eyes, "but you wanted to go sight seeing, don't you?"

"Yeah, around London not outside London."

"What's wrong with going outside of London?!"

"Why're you pushing for us to go outside of London?!" you rebutt.

"BECAUSE I HATE THIS PLACE!!" Harry yells causing everyone in the shop to look at both of you. You flinch at his words and you didn't know what to say. Harry angrily stands up, kicks the chair, and leaves the shop. All of the customers and employees look at you with pity.

"Poor thing." one customer said.

"Wow, worst boyfriend of the year award goes to that guy." the other said.

You gather yours and Harry's belongings and run out of the shop, hoping you're not too late to catch Harry. After looking left and right, you see him standing not too far away and you approach him.

"Hey," you say softly, "you know what? Let's go outside London." You decided that maybe Harry hasn't been getting what he wanted that's why he's always angry, so you'll give him a chance. You also started using the same tactic as Tom: speaking softly which is quite difficult and tiring, but if Tom can do it, so can you.

Harry looks at you and nods. Without saying a word, he grabs his bag from you and walks to the train station. Not wanting to get lost on your second week in London, you rush to follow him before you lose him in the crowd.

-

"So where are we?" you ask Harry.

"Dorset." Harry responds. "It's probably my favorite place. I don't know why, but it calms me down. I usually go here alone, but I don't want to be alone at the moment." You nod, you understand the feeling.

You and Harry walk around and he shows you the different spots he likes to stay and relax at and somehow, both of you end up on top of a hill. The view was remarkable. It was different from your view in New York and different from your view in your room back in London. This view gave you peace and you're starting to understand why Harry likes it there so much.

You both sit on the grass and sit in silence. Taking in the smell of the sea while your hair was following in the direction the wind is blowing. "How long do you usually stay here?" you ask Harry almost in a whisper.

"Until it gets dark." Harry responds. "Sometimes I don't go home at all. Not like anyone would care anyway. It's boring back at home to the point where it doesn't feel like home anymore. Back in London I just live in a house with three brothers, a set of parents, and a dog named Tessa. Being with them doesn't feel like home."

You nod, "Is that why you go to therapy?" You knew it wasn't your business to ask, but he's starting open up to you about the things he's feeling.

"I think you already know why I go to therapy. I had an episode at the sandwich shop." Harry laughs bitterly. "Maybe the question should be asking me is how I ended up like this."

"I wasn't always like this, you know. Believe it or not, I was like Tom." Harry admits. You didn't say anything, though. You wanted to, but you figured he needed to let it all out.

"It happened two years ago. Kevin, my best friend, and I were walking home from school. We didn't know the bullies from school followed us, but when we noticed them it was too late. For some reason, I was an easy target. So they took my money and taunted me and all that shit. I was used to it, but Kevin had enough. He punched one of the bullies and soon, they were nearly killing each other. I tried to stop them, but two of them held me back while I watched how the 'leader' of the group punched the life out of Kevin. Maybe someone saw what was happening, because the police came. The 'leader' threw one last punch and pushed Kevin before running. The two guys who held me back pushed me forward and ran away too." Harry tells you, his voice becoming shaky.

"I immediately went to check on Kevin and panicked when I didn't feel a pulse. One of the policemen called an ambulance. Then we arrived at the hospital and he," Harry takes a deep breath, tears falling freely down his cheeks, "he was dead on arrival. I guess he got pushed really hard and his head collided on the concrete with so much force. Lethal damage."

"Ever since then, I never forgave myself. I could've done something; anything. But I was just there, watching as my best friend die right in front me." Harry sniffs. "I can't help, but blame myself. He intervened to save me. If I only knew that saving me would lead to his death, I wouldn't have let him. I would've just gave the bullies what they wanted so they can leave him alone. He was the only one who understood me and he knew my secrets."

"I lived with that guilt every day ever since that happened. I could never forgive myself. My family tried to help me move on, but I couldn't. Every time they helped, I pushed them away. Then I started to get irritated with everything they did, like, why can't they leave me the fuck alone?! My parents decided it would be best for me to go to therapy seeing as I won't let them help me. Tom went with me the first time, because I was irritated with him the most. He kept bugging me. And of course, up to this day he still accompanies me." Harry says, wiping his tears.

"So," Harry chuckles lightly, "that's my story. What's yours?"

You chuckle too, "There's nothing special about it, really. My parents just think that there's something wrong with me, but that's not true. At least I think it's not true." Harry just nods for you to continue.

"I'm the youngest in my family. I have three older siblings and they're all married now. My parents are obviously so happy. In fact, they're so happy that they forget about me...all the time. Every time we have this little family lunch or dinner, my parents always ask about how my siblings are doing and shit like that. I've tried, you know? I've tried to push myself to talk to them, but whenever I do, my parents dismiss me and they tell me they're busy or they tell me to shut up, because one of my siblings are talking and it'd be rude to interrupt. I got tired and I just didn't try anymore." you tell him.

"It sucks, man. I have no one to turn to when things get tough. I have no one to be excited for me whenever I have good news. I feel so alone. I only had three friends back in New York and to be honest with you, they weren't even near the level of becoming my best friends. Sure, we hung out and stuff, but I was always their last choice to hang out with. If everyone else is busy, they call me and my stupid ass would answer immediately. Thank god we moved here. New environment is good." you sigh. "I'm really glad I met you guys, though. Tom talks too much, but he's alright. I now have one best friend; how cool is that!"

Harry laughs lightly, "Well, now you have two."

You look at him and give him a small smile, "Are you sure? I'm no Kevin, but I'll try."

"I don't need a new Kevin. Just be you." Harry says, nudging you slightly. "It's nearly getting dark. Should we head back?"

"Sure." you smile. Both of you stood up and grabbed your things before leaving. From that moment on, something told you that you wouldn't be alone anymore and it felt great to finally have someone by your side.

* * * *

Feedback please?

Tagging my mutuals: @sweetdespairbarnes @myblueleatherbag @fanficparker @tommysparker @lcvelyparkers + @justasmisunderstoodasloki (bc this person is nice to me sksks)

Want to contact me? 

[har-rison-s]

lasagna evening

request: Could you write some domestic fluff with adult stan uris

A/N: (2020 edit: this was my first ever stanley writing :>) Man oh man do i love this concept. ajsndfjsdf i love, i just love. I apologise for the title lmao i dont have any other ideas alsdfsdjn. This is so fluffy and cliché that you're going to die :D Btw, gifs of Andy Bean are very hard to find and I'm mad about it. Hope this is what you were looking for. Happy reading!

IT masterlist

heaven masterlist

main masterlist

“Honey, I'm home!” Stan says in a louder voice so his loved one could hear him. For she's known to often leave music playing loudly through their apartment and go into another room to do something. He hears the smooth voice of Billie Holiday singing about autumn in New York and he smiles to himself, kicking off his shoes. The music is loud enough for her not to hear him at all. 

He walks into the kitchen, both hands holding a grocery bag tightly until he puts them both on the center counter. Her music is playing right in front of him, just a few feet between him and the sound system. 

“Baby!” He calls again. Stan leaves the bags be and they crinkle a bit, the products falling on top of one another. He walks over to the sound system and turns the song's volume down. And he hears her humming. It's coming from her study.

Stan jogs a little down the hallway to get to her and reaches the door frame of her study. He peaks his head in. “Babylove,” he says and smiles immediately upon seeing his girl sitting on her carpet, her back turned to him, still humming and obviously hunched over something. 

She whips her head around and smiles wide. There's a wicked glimmer in her eyes. “Honey!” She squeals and hurriedly gets up from her position, almost falling over her own legs, and tip-toes over to her one and only. 

He leans in to steal a kiss from her soft angel lips and she still has to stand on her tip-toes for him to succeed. She embraces him then, her arms around his neck, and smiles wide. Stan recieves a loving kiss on the cheek and smiles, too. His eyes are full of love for the woman in front of him. 

“What are you doing in here?” He asks, his hand going in slow circles over her back. 

“Before you turned my music down,” she says, pouting and pointing her index finger into the middle of his chest, “I was listening to Billie and making another small sculpture.” She smiles, proud of herself.

“You're getting inspired again?” Stan raises his eyebrows in happy surprise and his love nods, biting her bottom lip. “So, who's the muse?”

“You, silly.” She says and they both laugh. She notices Stan already glancing behind her shoulder to see what she's making. To not spoil the surprise, she brings his eyes back to her, holding his chin softly. “It's not finished yet. When it will be, you'll be the first to see. And you know that.”

“Of course. You know I'm impatient about seeing your art.” He tells her and tickles her sides a little, making her giggle in the most beautiful way. 

“So,” she claps her hands, “what are we making tonight?”

“Hmm, let's see...” Stan pretends to think, “seeing as I bought the ingredients for lasagna, I guess we're making... lasagna?” He squints, teasing his girl. She laughs and kisses him on the cheek again. And then all over his face, which makes Stanley laugh instead. 

When he's about to plead for breath, she stops and grabs his hand, closing her study door with the other. She drags them both back down the hallway and lets go of Stan's hand to turn the volume higher. Stan gives her a mock-annoyed look, but they both laugh.

One of the billion, trillion things he loves so much about his girl is her energy and youthfulness. They're only two years apart, but Stanley has always felt older than he actually is. And he wanted to enjoy his youth when it was happening, but a lot of things kept him from it. 

Her youthfulness and eagerness and sort-of hyperactivity brings joy in his life. Makes him happy about still being here, having a life. She's brighter than the sun to him in many ways. 

“Do you have the recipe?” Stan asks her as they're unpacking the groceries.

“Uh-huh, I printed it out. It should be next to the sink.” She replies, pulling tomato after tomato out of the bag.

“Terrible place for a paper to be, if you ask me.” He tells her, but she only laughs. Stan walks over to the sink and sure enough, there is a page with a recipe printed on it. And it's not wet. He quickly goes over the ingredients and steps. “So how was work today?”

She works as a museum manager/administrator in a pottery museum in town. Taking that she's an artist herself, she needs to be in an artistic place and area at all times. An administrator might not seem like the job to you, but to her it's the perfect one that pays the bills and takes her on holidays with her loved one. Many artists to meet, artworks to see and inspiration to suck in.

“Quite amazing. You know I met that one artist I've always wanted to host at my museum—”

“Emily Lacey?” Stan finishes instead of her. She nods.

“Yup. And she's even more lovely than I thought she'd be. She's got great sense of humor, a great sense of style, of course, and turns out we have a lot in common.” She tells him. Stan smiles, watching her rush around the kitchen and talk. “She likes to read books, go to the cinema, travelling, hiking.”

“Wow, you two are basically twins.” He states.

“I know, right?” She looks at him with wide eyes, clearly excited. Stanley chuckles. “How was your day?” She asks him. 

“It was good.” He says. “Better now that I'm home.” Stan states and they share a look of love and knowing. “The book is coming along well, there's not much left. And I had to teach a new class today! All the kids were sweethearts.”

“How old were they?” She asks and, while doing so, gives Stan a piece of dough to flatten out. They both start working on a piece.

“Uh, they're... I think second or third grade, so eight to nine.” Stan says in between grunts of pushing the wooden roll on the dough. “Why such a question?”

She shrugs. “Just wondering. Thought they'd put you in a college now.” She admits, and huffs.

“Huh.” He turns to her, puts the roll down and crosses his arms over his chest. “Don't you think I'm good enough for primary school?”

She laughs and huffs again. “No, I think you're more than good enough for primary school, and better than perfect for teaching college kids ornithology.” She tells him, honestly.

“Listen, it's nothing wrong with me.” Stan insists, pointing at his chest and raising his eyebrows. “Ornithology is not the most desired class in college, even for biology majors. So they have one professor in each college that isn't exactly an ornithologyst, but knows enough and can memorise texts from books. And they put that guy to teach ornithology if it's at all necessary.” He explains in detail.

“But that is so unfair! I bet you're not the only ornithologyst without a chance to teach in college, and they put some knock-offs in your place.” She justifies.

“You have a fair point.” Stanley agrees. She smiles wide. 

“I know. You gotta fight for your rights, hon.” She tells him. “We both know that your passion is ornithology and that you're an actual ornithologyst. They should let, whoever's in charge of it, the people who really know what they're talking about teach ornithology. It makes a huge difference for the kids.”

“Listen, if your artist carrier ever flakes, you should become an education politican.” Stan says upon restarting to flatten the dough. His love laughs out loud, holding her tummy. Stanley only smiles wide to himself.

“Can you even imagine me dressed in formal clothes everyday, having that politician-lady haircut, wearing glasses and talking in a very serious voice about the issues of today?” She asks him, mimicking the way politicians speak in the last part. She even makes a funny face. “I could never. I mean, yeah, they pay you like, crazy money, but I'd never do that.” She shakes her head, still quietly laughing to herself. Stanley keeps smiling.

Merely two hours later, the couple have finished their lasagna. They had put on their food-making playlist, which is basically a playlist full of songs that they know all the lyrics to and sing together to at the top of their lungs. Includes ABBA, Queen, David Bowie, Journey, Elton John and many, many others. 

They're happily setting the coffee table in the living room, and they're almost finished. Stan is already turning on the TV, wrapped in a blanket and waiting for his one and only to join him. 

She's still getting them forks and spoons, and when she has, she turns off all the lights in the apartment. Except for the little light in the kitchen above the stove, that one always stays on.

She tip-toes—a habit of hers that is not entirely healthy for her feet—into the living room and puts the instruments down on the table. She collapses into Stan's open, waiting arms with a happy sigh. He wraps the blanket around her and keeps his arm around her, too. 

Her fingers push between his and they lock together. As if their hands were crafted just to be interlocked with the other's, no one else's. They feel like they're made for each other. 

Stanley presses a kiss into her hair. “What are we watching tonight?” He asks, his cheek now pressed where his lips just were.

“Hmm,” she thinks and watches Stan browsing through movies and tv-shows on the screen, “something funny. Don't you think?”

“Yeah, we always watch dramas.” He agrees. “I'm kinda sick of you making me cry every other evening.” Stan admits then, and they both laugh. Stan yawns.

“Do you have a favorite?” She questions, looking up at him. He looks down at her and almost gets hypnotised. Looking at her makes him go a bit weak, every and anytime. The years spent together either don't do anything to help it or even give more to the effect.

“I don't watch that many comedies, not my favorite genre.” He tells her as his hand caresses the side of her face. She closes her eyes to that. “You can choose. Show me your favorite!” He suggests and she smiles. “Just not anything dumb, okay? I know you like those a lot, but, please, spare me.”

She looks at him and rolls her eyes playfully. “Alright, alright.” She agrees and turns to lay on her stomach, over Stan's lap and takes the remote from his hand. “I'll spare your soul from the doom of dumb comedy movies, my prince.” She teases and Stan smiles. “Aha!” She exclaims upon finally finding the movie she was looking for. 

She pushes the 'play' button and reaches for their two plates of lasagna while the intro plays. She straightens her back, sitting normally just like Stan and giving him his lasagna piece.

“Hear ye, hear ye. Feast your eyes and ears with the wonder that is Bruce Almighty!” She theatrically introduces the movie. She likes Shakespeare and Old English, despite that she may not be the best at using it right. Stan smiles at her. 

They lean in to steal a few kisses from each other before indulging in their home-made (hopefully, well-made) lasagna and the world of Jim Carrey's comedy. 

Permanent taglist: @v0idbella @inlovewithmiddleagedcelebs @works-of-fanfiction @destiel-stucky4ever-loki-queen @stfxlou @ur-gunna-h8-ths@empressdreams @betweenloveandfire @but-legendsneverdie@deardeacy @thewinchesterchronicles @mavieesttriste16@mrsmazzello@benhardyseyes @langdonzvoid @intrrverted @the-freak-cassie-131

A/N: Tell me why everytime I look at a picture of Stanley Uris, I immediately want to cry. Oh my God. heurehuherufshfsdh. 

[doubleminor]

50 questions game

 thank you so much for the tag, linnea (@lajnias!)

what is the color of your hairbrush? purple!

name a food you never eat? broccoli bc belgh

are you typically too warm or too cold? hmm im usually cold! but recently i’ve been too hot 😥

what were you doing 45 minutes ago? starting to study for my power systems exam tmr )’:

what’s your favourite candy bar? kit kat!!

have you ever been to a professional sports game? ye ye! ive been to baseball, hockey, and basketball games.

what is the last thing you said out loud? i’ll be quiet.

what is your favourite ice cream? mmm chocolate chip cookie dough is always really nice!

what was the last thing you had to drink? coca cola

do you like your wallet? yesss it’s this cute little cardholder form nautica that i’ve had for yearsss

what is the last thing you ate? french fries!! best

did you buy any new clothes last weekend? lmao i haven’t bought new clothes in about two years

what’s the last sporting event you watched? i watched the beginning of game 6 of the stanley cup finals last night

what is your favourite flavour of popcorn? regular salted butter popcorn or bust

who is the last person you sent a text message to? my classmate!

ever go camping? no thank you at all

do you take vitamins? yes? ish? kind of

do you regularly attend a place of worship? i should be, but uh. no im lazy

do you have a tan? nah

do you prefer Chinese or pizza? chinese except can we make it asian food in general not just ‘american chinese’ food that i’m assuming this question is asking?? 

do you drink your soda through a straw? only if we’re at a restaurant

what colour socks do you usually wear? black, ive got two pairs of white socks and two pairs of not white/black socks only, the rest are just black socks!!

do you ever drive above the speed limit? who doesn’t?

what terrifies you? spiders 

look to your left, what do you see? a bag of lays chips

what chore do you hate most? sweeping

what do you think of when you hear an Australian accent? my friend nat!!

what’s your favourite soda? coca cola, then sprite, then mountain dew

do you go in a fast food place or just hit the drive thru? drive thru if i’m by myself, sometimes dine in when i’m with friends

what’s your favourite number? 14!!

(mysterious question that ash deleted and is now lost forever but i found it on sray’s version of this!) who’s the last person you talked to? my roommate i love her a lot !!!

favourite cut of beef? ummm man idk most beef is good anyways

last song you listened to? empire state of mind by alicia keyssss

last book you read? the russian five! i’m assuming this excludes my textbooks bc if it includes my textbook then uh digital and analog communications (8th edition)

favourite day of the week? saturdayssss

can you say the alphabet backwards? ye

how do you like your coffee? i dont do coffee

favourite pair of shoes? dont have one, i guess sneakers bc i wear them all the time??

time you normally get up? mondays, thursdays, fridays, and alternating wednesdays i wake up at 7, the rest of the time probably noon asdfdks

what do you prefer, sunrise or sunsets? sunset!

how many blankets on your bed? one

describe your kitchen plates? aint got any

describe your kitchen at the moment? kinda small? idk its just the residence hall apartment kitchen on campus

do you have a favourite alcoholic drink? still underage for half a month 

do you play cards? im terrible at cards, but i like uno

what colour is your car? dark brown/green

can you change a tire? no HAHAH i should be able to but i’ve got noodle arms

your favourite state? solid

favourite job you’ve had? ya girl just accepted her first full time job so that one!

tagging: @esaslindell, @nickcaamanos, and anyone else who’d like to do it.

[lateasalways]

(Damn, I had to make a new post because something weird happened to the cut when I edited, it went into the ask itself and isn’t working and I can’t fix it lmao, sorry!) 

Anon asked:

it would be interesting to me if you made a post about the elton books you have read. like how they differ and your opinion on them. ive only read Me but im interested in finding some other reads

Hi!  I’m sorry this took so long, I’ve suddenly been CRAZY busy with work now that there’s proper concerts happening again (and yay for that), but Anon, you have no idea how much I would like to answer that question and I’ve been thinking about it all week lmao, I think it’s super interesting to look at the differences between them. So of course I went amok and wrote way too long so just bare with me.

I’ve read 5 books in full and I’ve listed them in the order in which I read them.

1. Me by Elton John. You’ve all read that so I don’t have to explain it. It was the first one I read and my fav thing about it is how funny it is, and of course it’s very personal and therefore more emotional than some of the others. I absolutely love it and I honestly haven’t read a book that has engaged me so much in yeeeeaars, I would recommend that book to anyone, not only Elton fans.

2. Captain Fantastic by Tom Doyle. This book focuses on the 70s (but also includes his childhood/youth). I thought it was a great supplement  to Me, because many of the same stories are in there, but since the time span is shorter, it’s more detailed, and we get to hear other people’s versions of the events. What I particularly found interesting is the part about Elton breaking through in America. He’s always described it as sheer luck and being at the right place at the right time himself, and I’m sure that’s his experience of it, but that’s not what happened. I find that extremely fascinating. Here we get to hear from his first American label who basically got Empty Sky for free because it had been rejected by many others. Before they got the chance to release it Elton John came out which is obviously a step up production wise and they dropped everything and started pushing that album instead. Everyone at the label thought it was so great they really went all in with the promotion and managed to create a hype even though he was a complete unknown and that’s how he got the Troubadour gig. This book in several ways I think show that Elton is too humble when it comes to his talent, like you don’t get to headline over established and popular artists before the most important people in the industry as an unknown by sheer luck. It happened because the album was so great, the label were convinced he was going to be a star and they went for it. I really liked the book in general. Even though there is no shocking new info there, it shines a different light on several stories from Me which I find very interesting.

3. Sir Elton by Philip Norman. This book is about his life up until 1991 and it’s really long and super detailed, like some impressive work went into this one. (I listened to the audio book on scribd as they had a 30-day free trial because of corona, I don’t know if that’s still an offer but if it is I really recommend it.) It’s  a bit weird because on one side the author managed to detail and capture Elton’s personality SO well (he’s said so himself too) and the way he writes makes some of the stories so vivid it almost felt like watching a movie. I actually found myself getting as emotional as I did reading Me at several points, like I literally shed tears here and there. But then on the other side, there are several things that bothers me a lot about this book. First of all it seems like Norman for some reason think Stanley was a great father and is trying to convince us that Elton is wrong about everything he’s said about him. Like, why? He’s clearly talked a lot with his 2nd wife Edna and her perspective is obviously very different from Elton’s. But some of his points are just really weird like f.x. he says that Elton says his dad didn’t care about him but this is wrong because he actually had a framed photo of him in his room when he was in the RAF. Like….????? How does that prove anything? As long as Elton didn’t know about it, it means fuck all! You don’t get a gold star because you keep a framed photo of your only son wtf? Another example: One Christmas after the divorce Elton didn’t get a present or a card or anything. But this was because they had very little money and their new son was ill. Well that’s sad, but Elton didn’t know that? You could at least have called and explained it or just sent a card to let him know you were thinking of him too? The whole problem is that he didn’t SHOW that he loved him or was proud of him, he can have as many framed photos he likes but that doesn’t matter when you never show any kind of affection. Another example cause I’m on a roll: Edna says Elton in fact enjoyed his visits to them (which he himself has said he hated) she says he used to sit alone and play with their typewriter. That sounds sad AF??? Why are you trying to convince me this is great parenting? I know it was a different time but fuck! One thing I do believe though is that Sheila probably helped along the narrative that Stanley was awful, I think it’s very likely that she has exaggerated or even made up stories about him, but that’s not Elton’s fault. Another downside with the book (imo) is that Norman is apparently the world’s biggest fan of Dick James and there’s just sooo much boring stuff about Dick James there, I’m sorry but when he starts talking about Dick James I recommend you fast forward. The whole point is to set up the court case between him and Elton that happened in the 80s (in which he clearly thinks Dick was in the right) but I’m just not interested in that at all. If you are though, this is the book for you lol. Then there’s the things the author got wrong. First of all, he didn’t know about Elton’s drug use which is quite essential. Although you can easily read between the lines of what the interviewees are saying, so it’s not that distracting. Second, he seems to believe that Elton is actually bisexual which he obviously isn’t (and before I get accused of bi-erasure, he has said so himself time and time again that he’s never been interested in women and his coming out as bi in 76 was a “chicken out”) and it really bothered me cause it reads a bit homophobic to me as he seems to believe Sheila when she said that he “wouldn’t have been gay if it weren’t for show business.” So I’m a bit conflicted about this book. It has more negatives than the others but the good parts are SO SO GOOD. I would be very interested in hearing other people’s opinions about it.

4. Elton John by David Buckley. Another one I listened to on Scribd. This is a quite new one so certain things have come to light which makes it more accurate. It’s another book that didn’t have  a lot of groundbreaking new information, but he’s for some reason the only one who’s talked to Gary Osbourne and he has a lot of interesting things to tell. I think Gary deserves more credit and he was very close to Elton in a very interesting part of his career/life so it’s worth reading for that. This book is also about his whole life but way shorter than Sir Elton so obviously not as detailed, but there’s some fun stuff and new anecdotes in there.

5. Elton, my Elton by Gary Clarke. Gary was Elton’s on/off boyfriend between 1982 and 83 (ish) and obviously knows him in a way these other authors don’t. I was a bit unsure about reading this as I think it’s a bit tasteless to expose someone to that extent (and he goes into some seriously intimate details), but otoh I felt like it was kind of the missing puzzle piece so I bought it in the end (on ebay) and I can’t really say if it actually answered the questions I had or just gave me more. I thought Elton was weird before reading this and it certainly didn’t make me think he’s any less weird. It starts kind of cute, it almost reads like one of those self-insert popstar fanfics at first (not that I’ve ever purposely read any of that but you know, it’s hard to be on tumblr without stumbling upon that stuff now and again) but then it gets really dark. Which is because Elton apparently was clean when they first met but then after some time he started spiraling, so it’s just… it actually made me a bit nauseous tbh and it’s so frustrating too, I genuinely yelled “Elton, no!” out loud at one point lmao. But I have already talked at length about this book, particularly what I found disturbing about it and you can find that post here. If you’re interested in reading this book though, you should be warned there’s some rapey content, (though to be clear, that has nothing to do with Elton) and dubious consent.

So anon, since you’re looking for some further reading, these are all good and interesting books I think. It’s a bit hard to say which one I liked best because obviously, for every book I read there’s less new info. But then all of the books have stories I hadn’t heard before so they’re all worth reading if you’re crazy obsessive like me and wants to know absolutely everything lol. I really enjoyed reading all of them (well enjoy isn’t the right word for Gary’s book but yk.) so I guess you should just consider what sounds more interesting to you and go for that :) If you take away the negatives I think Sir Elton is probably the one I enjoyed the most, while Elton, my Elton is the most revealing. Elton John is more complete while Captain Fantastic is really good if you’re more interested in the 70s and his breakthrough.

Thank you so much for the ask! I hope you found what you were looking for and enjoy some further reading! To anyone else who might be reading this: if you have thoughts on any of these books or things you want to discuss, please, my inbox is open! :D

[kyn19]

1 THROUGH 98! I WANT TO KNOW THE ANSWERS AND I CAN'T STAND GETTING THEM PIDDLING BIT BY PIDDLY BIT!!!!!

Lmaooooo what a fuckin Mood. Thank you!!!!! Also, you’re getting Drunk Kylie answers which are arguably the Best answers. For the courtesy of everyone’s dash, answers are below the cut!! <3 <3 <3

1. coffee mugs, teacups, wine glasses, water bottles, or soda cans?

Coffee mugs! I have a sizable collection lmao #WriterLife

2. chocolate bars or lollipops?

omg such a tough one, both are aces. seriously I can think of so many combatting pros & cons!! the only fair way i can currently conceive is which i would want weed in. Which is lollipops bc (#UnpopularOpinion) pot makes chocolate taste bad.

3. bubblegum or cotton candy?

both are great, but def bubblegum.

4. how did your elementary school teachers describe you?

“Pleasure to have in class” in true Gifted Child fashion

5. do you prefer to drink soda from soda cans, soda bottles, plastic cups or glass cups?

i’ll rate them in order: 1) can (absolutely preferred), 2) bottle if alone but plastic (lez be honest, Red Solo Cup) if with company, 3) glass (do not like)

6. pastel, boho, tomboy, preppy, goth, grunge, formal or sportswear?

#1 goth all the way. Pastel and Formal guest appearances

7. earbuds or headphones?

headphone, bc earbuds usually hurt my ears.

8. movies or tv shows?

first of all, how dare you. second of all, tv shows ONLY BECAUSE if all my fave movies were given tv shows so that they could last longer i would choose so

9. favorite smell in the summer?

idk i guess pool chlorine? dislike summer

10. game you were best at in p.e.?

bruh fuckin none. elementary school: too long ago to recall. middle school: escaped having to take gym at all. high school: had a medical excuse to take online PE. least athletic girl u know

11. what you have for breakfast on an average day?

i don’t have bfast bc eating close to when i awaken makes my tummy upset

12. name of your favorite playlist?

hmm 4-way tie between “#motivate #bitch” (gets me pumped to work) and “Friends Of The Illness” (my playlist of songs about and/or artist who are mentally ill) and “Ominous/haunting” (speaks to my creepy side) and “Bad Bitches” (self-explanatory amirite)

13. lanyard or key ring?

Key ring. Straight up I use an extra shoelace as my key ring string, despite owning multiple lanyards.

14. favorite non-chocolate candy?

god another fkn hard one. Listen y’all, you dont understand how much of a sugar fiend i am. candy is my JAM. Starbursts, Sour Straws, Skittles, Jolly Ranchers...who can choose?!

15. favorite book you read as a school assignment?

“Ceremony” by Leslie Marmon Silko. Highly recommend!!!!!!!!!!!

16. most comfortable position to sit in?

laying down lol sitting is for suckers

17. most frequently worn pair of shoes?

combat boots like the gay i am

18. ideal weather?

low 70′s degrees (F*), intermittent showers during the day but clear starry skies overnight

19. sleeping position?

mostly fetal, mostly on my side but chest is towards the bed, one arm under the pillow under my head

20. preferred place to write (i.e., in a note book, on your laptop, sketchpad, post-it notes, etc.)?

Laptop. I used to love writing in notebooks, but ya girl got weak fingy joints nowadays

21. obsession from childhood?

pfft as if they aren’t the same obsessions i have now

22. role model?

so many!!!!! Jameela Jamil is the first that comes to mind

23. strange habits?

lmao i am ass-deep in idiosyncrasies, if you ain’t read the blog title already

24. favorite crystal?

i don’t know anything about crystals. does blue topaz count? cuz that’s my birthstone and i like that one a lot. i even had the foresight to pick that as my engagement ring’s stone in my utterly preposterous & failed relationship

25. first song you remember hearing?

oh wow, no idea. music has always been huge for me. probably either a Britney Spears or Mary J. Blige song???

26. favorite activity to do in warm weather?

stay inside lmao

27. favorite activity to do in cold weather?

WEAR SWEATERS & DRINK HOT CHOCOLATE, BITCH!!!!!!!!!

28. five songs to describe you?

oof ok, hard, but here goes:

“Here” by Alessia Cara

“Wannabe” by the Spice Girls

“I’m Just a Kid and Life Is A Nightmare” by Simple Plan

“No Daddy” by Teairra Mari

“Brick By Boring Brick” by Paramore

29. best way to bond with you?

i am straight up not easy to make friends with (bc my own bullshit, not trying to be pretentious), so bonding is hard. the best way is probably a combo of queer + memes + loves food + correct morals + being the dominant talker

30. places that you find sacred?

Libraries, locally owned coffee shops, Walmarts at 3am, playgrounds in the middle of the night, side of a rural road at 12am, my bed

31. what outfit do you wear to kick ass and take names?

Blazer + shirt with a titty window + high waisted plaid pants + platform booties

32. top five favorite vines?

OMG I LOVE VINES OK OK OK OMG I LOVE SO MANY SO HERE ARE JUST THE ONES I QUOTE THE MOST OK:

Josh Kennedy: “What’s up my name’s Jared I’m 19 and I never fucking learned how to read”

Sarah Schauer: [dont remember the beginning] “didn’t you..?” “sleep in this? yes. mama needs A DRINK”

Evan Breer: “What’s up my & my boys are going to see Uncle Kracker - give me my hat back Jordan, do you see Uncle Kracker or no - *gasp!*”

Drew Gooden: “Road work ahead? Um yeah, I sure hope it does...”

Nathan Enick: “Yo how much money do you have?” “69 cents” “Oh you know what that means!” “...i don’t have enough money for chicken nuggets :( ...”

33. most used phrase in your phone?

bruh like how even am i supposed to answer this?? like texts or Siri requests or????? bc if it’s Siri requests then it’s 100% for arithmetic

34. advertisements you have stuck in your head?

Stanley Steamer. you kno the one

35. average time you fall asleep?

3:30am

36. what is the first meme you remember ever seeing?

bitch i’m a 90′s child of the internet, i was around the web before YouTube launched, i was there when the first modern memes were fucking conceived. i will say the biggest repository of meme culture that i was a part of was YouTube and icanhazcheezburger.com & its side-sites.

37. suitcase or duffel bag?

duffel - Tie-Dye Girl from the Lindsey Lohan “Parent Trap” made quite the impression on me

38. lemonade or tea?

Lemonade! hate the leaf water

39. lemon cake or lemon meringue pie?

Lemon cake! Not a meringue pie girl saly

40. weirdest thing to ever happen at your school?

I’ve been to a lot of schools yo lol. My undergrad college was def the “weirdest” ofc, bc it was an art school lol. An instance that stands out was a string of “Solid Gold Clit” graffiti after a Sophia Wallace visit to campus right before i started there.

41. last person you texted?

My bff triad pals @backwardswriter and @bristarshine

42. jacket pockets or pants pockets?

damn tough call. Probably jacket pockets bc i’m more likely to have those as a lady who wears lady-targeted pants

43. hoodie, leather jacket, cardigan, jean jacket or bomber jacket?

Hoodie

44. favorite scent for soap?

Plum!

45. which genre: sci-fi, fantasy or superhero?

Fantasy, though sci-fi is a solid 2nd. Not much of a superhero gal

46. most comfortable outfit to sleep in?

.....underwear only. Sometimes an oversized t-shirt too.

47. favorite type of cheese?

Mozzarella!!!

48. if you were a fruit, what kind would you be?

I would want to be like a pomegranate, but i’m probably a nectarine

49. what saying or quote do you live by?

“If you hope for the best but expect the worst, you’ll never be disappointed.”

50. what made you laugh the hardest you ever have?

bitch i’m a giggle monster, i taught myself to be easily amused as a survival mechanism.

51. current stresses?

My own lack of discipline.

52. favorite font?

oooooof i have so many ok. too name a few: Centaur, Garamont, Book Antigua, Times New Roman, Montserrat.....mostly Serif fonts bc I’m an old books bitch

53. what is the current state of your hands?

I don’t love my hands (how homophobic of me, I know). Currently they’re kinda dry and full of sandwich

54. what did you learn from your first job?

what kind of boss I like. also that my customer service voice is frighteningly pleasant

55. favorite fairy tale?

Original tale: Thumbelina. Adaptations: Snow White.

56. favorite tradition?

uhhh Thanksgiving feast I guess? i am not a traditions gal

57. the three biggest struggles you’ve overcome?

I am very very fortunate to not have a lot or a severity of these. The ones that I’ve had the worst of are: gender discrimination/harassment as a woman, hardcore emotional abuse in a relationship, and heavy heavy mental illness

58. four talents you’re proud of having?

Tangible talents: writing, lying. Intangible: A+ imagination, useless trivia.

59. if you were a video game character, what would your catchphrase be?

“I support you!”

60. if you were a character in an anime, what kind of anime would you want it to be?

like if Tokyo Mew Mew and Higurashi No Naku Koro Ni had a baby

61. favorite line you heard from a book/movie/tv show/etc.?

Again, how dare you. Like literally, asking me to pick a favorite line from something is like asking what my favorite breed of dog is. Legit impossible

62. seven characters you relate to?

Ananka Fishbein (Kiki Strike series), Mermista (She Ra & the Princesses of Power), Luna Lovegood (Harry Potter), Gwen (Total Drama), Rori Gilmore (Gilmore Girls), Villanelle (Killing Eve), Andrea (St. Trinian’s)

so like all very- to semi-weird white girls lmao

63. five songs that would play in your club?

[by the term “club” i assume that i’m limited to pop and electronic music. even with the limitation, though, a super hard question]

“Talking Body” by Tove Lo

“Hot in Herre” by Nelly

“Because the Night” by Cascada

“Nails, Hair, Hips, Heels” by Todrick Hall

“Break Free” by Ariana Grande ft. Zedd

64. favorite website from your childhood?

pretty much any doll franchise’s site (Barbie, Bratz, My Scene, Polly Pocket, Diva Girlz, everGirl, etc you name it)

65. any permanent scars?

Yep. One by a dog scratch (it was honestly a weak/shallow/innocent scratch, i still have no idea why it scarred at all), and a few from a car crash last year

66. favorite flower(s)?

i don’t really like flowers? i usually just say Forget-Me-Not’s for ease

67. good luck charms?

bitch idk but i’m knocking on wood just from thinking bout it

68. worst flavor of any food or drink you’ve ever tried?

you ever taste that chocolate Laffy Taffy? vile bruh

69. a fun fact that you don’t know how you learned?

I am annoying enough to know how i learnt all my facts, but the funnest fact I like to annoy people with is that ducks have corkscrew penises evolved from their main form of mating being rape

70. left or right handed?

Right (like any ol’ simp)

71. least favorite pattern?

polka dots

72. worst subject?

MATH and also PHYS ED

73. favorite weird flavor combo?

One time whilst high, I put nacho cheese Doritos on a tuna sandwich. Winning combo, I’m telling you

74. at what pain level out of ten (1 through 10) do you have to be at before you take an advil or ibuprofen?

My pain tolerance is straight up unpredictable, so like anywhere from a 3 to a 9

75. when did you lose your first tooth?

5 years old

76. what’s your favorite potato food (i.e. tater tots, baked potatoes, fries, chips, etc.)?

Mashed potatoes

77. best plant to grow on a windowsill?

I am not a plant person. Moss.

78. coffee from a gas station or sushi from a grocery store?

fucking neither but i at least like coffee so i guess the former....

(i know, it’s tragic and barbaric that i dislike sushi, i wish i had another answer for you)

79. which looks better, your school id photo or your driver’s license photo?

Neither lmao - I got them within a month of each other (six years ago) so they’re essentially the same photo.

80. earth tones or jewel tones?

Jewel!

81. fireflies or lightning bugs?

I mean those are the same bug so I assume this is asking about which terminology I typically use/prefer. Which i would say both bc I’m a cultured ho

82. pc or console?

I don’t game so I guess PC lmao

83. writing or drawing?

Writing but I like both

84. podcasts or talk radio?

damn neither lmao I can’t focus on non-music audio only. I guess talk radio, just bc I can do like ten minute radio segments at least lol

84. barbie or polly pocket?

both were lit but I had more Barbies

85. fairy tales or mythology?

not to sound like a broken record but FIRST OF ALL HOW DARE YOU? second of all, I essentially consider them in the same category at this point in modernity, so my answer is Yes.

86. cookies or cupcakes?

Cupcakes, but both are exquisite

87. your greatest fear?

spiders, heights, clowns, seeing bad things happening to animals, that my consciousness will exist even after death, y’know normal stuff

88. your greatest wish?

to transfer myself into one of my fave fictional worlds

89. who would you put before everyone else?

dogs, next question

90. luckiest mistake?

i make a lot of those honestly, so who knows

91. boxes or bags?

LISTEN I LOVE CONTAINERS OF ALL SORTS, YOU CAN’T MAKE ME CHOOSE, IM PANSEXUAL FOR A REASON

92. lamps, overhead lights, sunlight or fairy lights?

FLASHLIGHTS, BITCH

93. nicknames?

Ky, KyKy, Moonshine, SugarTits, Goog Bones

94. favorite season?

Autumn (yes i call it that instead of Fall bc i’m a pretentious ass bitch lol)

95. favorite app on your phone?

Tumblr, c’mon

96. desktop background?

Currently a digital art painting of a flowing stag in a swamp that I downloaded from DeviantArt. I change it every few months though (to other downloaded digital art from DA that I collect periodically lmao)

97. how many phone numbers do you have memorized?

Seven - mine, my mom’s 2 numbers, my grandma’s, my pop’s cell and office (also my old office) numbers, and my childhood house phone number lol

98. favorite historical era?

Golden Age of Piracy, specifically bc the piracy lol

Thank you so much for the asks, this was so much fun!!!

[hangjie]

see you soon. [ richie tozier ]

summary: reader breaks the news to richie about her move

warnings: sad, a bit of swearing, and angst if you squint

word count: 1,599

author’s note: i’m back y’alll!! i watched it: chapter 2 a month ago and i instantly had a lot of ideas about richie, but i didn’t have the time until now since it’s my sembreak until next week.  i have a few more ideas regarding richie, so stay tuned!!

writing is a bit wack since i haven’t written a piece outside of school heheh.

i know that the filter i used for the gif is not the usual filter in my imagines, but the app that i usually use suddenly crops the gifs, so i had to use another source. from now on, that’ll be the filter in my imagines huhu.

also, let’s say that you’re living with your aunt lmao.

─── • ° *｡✧ ───

i take a deep breath and release it, letting the air fill my lungs. i repeat this over and over to calm my nerves. i close my eyes and listen to the rustling of the trees from the wind around the quarry.

you can do this, (y/n).

my eyes snap open when i hear footsteps behind me. richie holds his hands up as if to surrender whilst approaching me. “hey, hey, it’s just me, doll. no need to get your panties in a twist.” he chuckles, but i just stay quiet and look back to my front. richie immediately knows that something is up.

“hey, what’s wrong?” he sits down beside me and places his arm around my shoulders, but i still avoid his gaze and remain silent. “c’mon, doll. you can tell me anything.” richie rubs my arm. “if this is about bowers, i swear, i will fucking knock that mullet off his head and—“

“richie, i’m moving,” i say, tears prickling my eyes. he pauses. “m-moving? you mean houses? well, i’ll still come and pick you up every morning before school.”

“n-no, richie. i’m moving out of derry. my aunt told me this morning.” richie is now the quiet one. he takes his glasses off and looks down at the green water below the edge of the cliff. “you promised that we would run away from derry together.” i try to take a deep breath, but i couldn’t because tears start pouring down my cheeks. “i tried to convince her to let us stay or to leave me here in derry, but she was persistent,” i say, wiping away the tears from my cheeks with the back of my hand. 

“you promised that we would run away to hollywood, you become an actress and i become a comedian, get married, get kids, and raise them together.”

“i know, richie. i’m so sorry, but i can’t change my aunt’s mind.”

“then to hell with her. let’s run away right now. we could go home, pack our bags, and leave this fucking town forever.” he continues to ramble on what we could do, making my heartbreak even more. i finally turn to him, placing my hands on firmly on his shoulders. “richie,” i call him, but he continues. his breathing starts to quicken. “richie, calm down.” he begins to sweat and the color from his face begins to drain. “richie,” i say louder. he speaks faster and his voice gets higher and louder. 

“richie!”

“what?! what, (y/n)?! what could you possibly say that will make this better? you’re leaving me anyways!” he shouts, tears running down his cheeks. i look at him in shock and he immediately quietly apologizes. he covers his face with his hands and starts to sob. i immediately wrap my arms around his hunched figure and he wraps his arms around my body, clinging on to me like i was going to disappear in the next second. he sobs into my shirt as i rub his back and brush the ends of his hair to try to calm him down.

richie finally calms down after a few minutes. i continue to brush his curls and he starts to play with the end of my shirt. “when are you leaving?” he quietly asks. “by the end of the week,” i say. silence then fills us until richie says, “i just don’t want to lose you, (y/n). you’re the most important person in my life.”

“you won’t lose me, richie.” i kiss the top of his head and i feel him kiss my shoulder in return. 

we stay in each other’s arms in the quarry for the rest of the day, savoring the last few moments we can be together.

***

i groan, feeling my arms go numb as i bring a box containing my belongings out. i sigh in exhaustion and stretch my arms. the rest of the losers come out one by one, carrying some of my boxes. they have a similar reaction to mine after putting it down until bill. when he straightens his back after putting down the box, we all look at each other with sadness in our eyes.

throughout the day, i tried my best not to break down, but when the sad eyes of my friends glanced at me, i couldn't help it.

i start crying and the losers immediately engulf me in a group hug. they hold me close to them and try to comfort me even though they were also upset and crying. i could hear their sniffles and eddie saying, "you know, us being this close could give us lots of diseases, but i'll gladly take one this time." we chuckle and hug for a few minutes until they pull away. 

my eyes lock with richie's big brown ones which are filled with tears. the others notice us and start backing away. "w-w-we'll g-give you two some sp-pace," bill says and leaves with the rest of the losers following behind him.

as soon as the other losers were out of sight, richie pulls me into a tight hug. i tightly grip on to his shirt, soaking it with my tears.

“i’m going to miss you, doll. i’m going to miss you so much,” he cries as he cradles my head, but i only reply him through sobs.

“you’re going to be an amazing actress.”

“and you’ll be the best comedian.”

i feel richie kiss the top of my head and my forehead. i look up at him and see continuous tears rolling down his cheeks. i cup his cheeks and wipe the tears from his face then look at his eyes before softly pressing his lips to mine. my hands move to the back of his neck while his move to my back, pulling me as close as possible. i can even taste the saltiness of our tears on our lips. we only pull away when we hear my aunt's voice calling for me.

"(y/n)! c'mon, let's go!" richie and i pull away from each other with hesitation and he intertwines his fingers with mine before we walk to the car where my aunt and the other losers were waiting. i let go of richie’s hand and approach each one of my friends to say goodbye.

i walk up to eddie and he says, “i hope you don’t catch a disease." we all chuckle a bit. i playfully punch his shoulder and he jumps back. "never change, eds. never change." he mutters underneath his breath about me potentially breaking his arm. “i bet you’ll kick ass in your new school," stan says. "thanks for the confidence, stanley." i hold my hand up to high five him. “don’t forget us,” ben says. "of course! i also won't forget your kids on the block obsession." i ruffle his hair playfully before proceeding to mike. he places a comforting hand on my shoulder and smiles sadly at me. "visit us soon, okay?" i nod my head and smile back at him then walk towards beverly. before i could say anything, she pulls me into a tight hug. i sigh and wrap my arms around her torso. "thank you. thank you for everything," she shakily says. we stay in each other's arms before i feel beverly pull away. “w-we’ll miss you-u-u, (y/n)," bill says. "thanks, big bill. i better be the leading lady in the movie adaptation of your book in the future." bill chuckles and nods.

i then move to richie and he only looks down on me with sorrow. he slowly moves closer to me and cups my cheek, making me lean into his touch. he brings up his other hand to put a strand of my hair behind my ear.

"i love you, (y/n). i love you so much. never forget that."

"never."

"call me when you arrive, okay?"

he places a soft, but lingering kiss on my forehead and i hear my aunt telling me that it's time to go, making richie reluctantly pull away from me. i slowly get in the passenger's seat of the car and after i fasten my seatbelt, i turn towards the losers and they all have tears in their eyes. as my aunt starts the car, i wave them goodbye for the last time and they all repeat my actions before we drive away, the moving truck following us behind. before i knew it, the town of derry is out of my sight.

as my aunt and i continue to make our way towards our new home, a question kept popping up in my mind.

"who was i going to call when i arrive?"

(ghostbusters HAHAHAHA)

MASTERLIST

[mitchmarnier]

when tomorrow comes

rating: mature

pairing: eddie kaspbrak/richie tozier

summary: Richie pushed himself up on his elbows and smirked. “You know, Eddie my love, we suddenly have great potential right here. Don’t you remember what it was like? Back in Derry… all the sneaking around, the thrill of getting caught all the time? What an adrenaline rush!”

“What a constant risk of anxiety attack you mean,” Eddie corrected, but he was grinning too. “But yeah, it was pretty exciting. What’s your point?”

“What if… and really hear me out here, Eds… we just let them think we were broken up?”

chapter count: 5/7

“This feels very unnecessary,” Richie complained as he tugged at the collar of the shirt Stan had forced him into. Richie wasn’t usually the type to look a gift horse in the mouth, and Stanley Uris had never once offered to lead Richie his clothing, but he was beginning to understand why that was. Despite being very near in the same height and size, Richie was going to uncomfortable in these clothes all night.

“It’s completely necessary,” Stan said firmly. “You agreed to go out on this date, if not only because Eddie went on one. It’s time start moving on.”

Richie shrugged half-heartedly, not going point out that it was for Eddie’s benefit that he was going on this date, not Stan’s. Patty made a noise- maybe a half aborted laugh- and both men turn towards her. She was laid across Stan’s bed, Xbox controller in her hands, wearing nothing but her underwear and one of Richie’s more tame button ups. Hair tied up into a messy bun, she lowered her phone and rolled her eyes. “You’re wasting your time, baby.” She told Stan with a smirk.

“What’s the supposed to mean?” He asked, looking between Patty and Richie with narrowed eyes. Richie matched Stan’s narrowed eyed look, and Patty simply grinned and rolled off the bed. Walking over, she came to press a hand against Richie’s shoulder despite the shoulder in question being a solid three inches above her head. She looked up at Richie and batted her lashes.

“I’m just saying, Tozier… you aren’t fooling everybody.” She said, squeezing his arm and giving him the same fond yet exasperated smile she had the day Richie had declared he could drink an entire bottle of barbeque sauce in under a minute.  “Not even you are that good an actor.”

Richie hummed, reaching down to pinch Patty’s nose. “Stop thinking, Blum.”

“You know I can’t.”

Stan tossed his hands up into the air and made a frustrated noise. “I hate when you two just talk like there were was a longer conversation before this! What the hell are you talking about?”

Patty laughed, stepping away from Richie to wrap her arms around Stan’s middle.  “Baby, if you don’t know, I can’t tell you.” Stan, still looking confused, pressed a kiss to the top of Patty’s head.

“I guess it doesn’t matter,” Stan said, rubbing circles into Patty’s back. “You already agreed,  and I don’t think you’re physically capable of standing somebody up.”

Richie made an uncomfortable noise in the back of his throat. “I would consider it with this guy. He’s like, level ten creepy.”

“Then why agree to go out with him?” Patty asked, frowning. Stan glanced away, suddenly extremely interested in the water stain on the ceiling. “If you think he’s creepy?”

“Well!” Richie laughed humourlessly. “It might have had something to do with Stan and Bev each standing over one of his shoulders mouthing “DO IT” at me frantically. That was a push factor.”

Patty whacked Stan lightly in the chest, rolling her eyes and laughing. “Stanley, we agreed that we weren’t going to pressure him! Let him get there on his own.”

Stan held his hands up in defense. “It’s Beverly’s fault! She’s a terrible influence! We can blame Bev and only Bev.”

Richie and Patty exchanged dry looks, looking at one another for as long as they could before falling into giggles. Stan grumbled under his breath and stepped away, grabbing Patty’s discarded controller and dropped onto the bed. “Ah, shit, you’re right through, Stanny,” Richie clapped once and reached for his discarded phone to shove into his pocket. “I’d never stand somebody up on purpose, though that’s just a guess since this is my first first date ever.”

Patty made a sympathetic noise, but Richie had already as good as lost the interest of his friends. Patty had crawled onto the bed and was pressed up against Richie’s room mate. Richie smiled slightly to himself, more than glad to see the uptight guy that probably his best friend letting somebody in. Goodness knows how long it had taken for Stan to finally accept the role in his life that Richie demanded, and there had been a long struggle for Patty to get in Stan’s heart too. They were tighter than any couple Richie had ever seen, aside from himself and Eddie, it made him feel warm and fuzzy inside to see them together. Even if he had to pretend to find them disgusting.

“WELL!” Richie said loudly, grabbing onto the door handle and swinging downwards. “I’m going now. On my date. With Creepy McCreep Fuck. This may be the last time you ever see me alive. Is there anything you want to say me? Maybe declare your undying love?”

Without looking up from game, Stan responded dryly. “Don’t swing on the handle like that. You’ll break it.”

Richie sighed in mock annoyance and left.

xx

William Campbell just oozed the creep factor, he have Richie the heebie-jeebies from across the restaurant. He walked over and pulled out the seat, dropping down and making sure not to let their knees bump underneath the table. He fiddled with his phone as he greeted his date shyly.

to angel baby boy <3: about to start my date from hell. remind me to put laxatives in bev’s coffee tomorrow morning

from angel baby boy <3: lmao i love you have fun in hell

“It’s rude to use your phone at the table,” William’s grating voice broke through Richie’s love-for-Eddie bubble and Richie pursed his lips in annoyance. After being pulled out the party on Friday, taking a wicked ride over Mike Hanlon’s shoulder, William had came to greet him. Richie hadn’t found him charming then, and wasn’t sure how Beverly or Stan could have thought for a second that he would want to go on a date with him. The way he’d spoken to Richie about his over-the-top display at Eddie’s “flirting”, it made Richie’s stomach tense. He made it seem like that Richie had been in the right to behave that way, even believing that Richie and Eddie were completely broken up. It was far from the type of person Richie would ever want to pursue a relationship with.

Richie forced a smile and turned off his phone, slipping it into the front pocket of his jeans. “Sorry,” he said using his Sonia Kaspbrak voice- the one for buttering up his future step-mother, notably different from the one he uses simply to piss her off if Eddie was in the mood for chaos. “Just… my ex, you know? Still trying to sort everything out.”

William nodded. “Yeah, yeah. Know ‘bout that. Had me a boyfriend back in high school, bad break up there. I get that sometimes there’s a lotta bullshit to go through even after its over.”

Charmingly understanding but yet… only one thing stood out to Richie. “Have you.. have you not had a boyfriend since high school?” If William was the same age as Richie- and he looked a little bit older, even- then that was at least three years ago.

William looked up at him, eyes flashing. “I guess I just haven’t found anybody who stuck until now.”

Richie swallowed roughly and gulped down a large mouthful of his water.

xx

Eddie smacked his phone against his bare thigh, unable to keep his leg from jittering. He could see Bill glaring at him from the corner of his eye, but he couldn’t control himself. Richie had never in the years they’d been together, not responded to an I love you text. Not once.

“What’s your pruh-problem?” Bill said, tossing his Xbox controller into the air and catching it. “You’re making me loose to Stanley. Stanley! Is this because of Ruh-Richie’s date?”

Eddie rang his fingers through his hair. “No.” Eddie snapped, before seeing Bill’s glare then letting out a sigh. “I guess…. I… I don’t care that he’s on a date.” He was going to be as truthful as possible here, give away as much as he can without exposing it all. At this point, he was almost afraid he and Richie would never be able to tell the truth. The longer they kept this charade up, the harder it would be to explain. The worse it would look. “It’s just… it’s who he’s going with.”

“Who’s he going with?” Bill asked, voice dull with discare and eyes already back on the screen.

Eddie scowled as the words left a disgusting taste on his tongue. “William Campbell.”

“Will-William?” Bill coughed roughly, stumbling with the Xbox controller until he gave up the struggle and tossed it onto the bed. “You’re suh-suh-sure it’s William Campbell? You’re puh-positive?”

“What? Yes, why?” Eddie sat up straight on the bed, heart bounding in his chest. “Bill. What’s going on? What do you know?”

Bill was already pulling on socks and seemed to be angry typing on his phone. He ignored Eddie’s exhilarated breaths and fidgeting figure behind him. “BILL!”

“Look,” Bill finally turned around, face seemingly pale and eyes wide. “It’s not really any of your bus-bus-business is it, Euh-euh-Eddie?”

Eddie’s mouth dropped open and for a moment, all he could do was stare at his room mate before his heart leapt about twenty four times in his chest. “FUCK YOU IT’S NONE OF MY BUSINESS! THIS IS RICHIE!! TELL ME WHAT’S GOING ON!”

Bill made a loud, frustrated noise. “You sort of guh-guh-gave up that ruh-right when you duh-dumped him for no guh-good ruh-reason, didn’t yuh-you?”

Eddie lashed forward, shoving Bill down onto his own bed. “You really think I would do that? You fucking think…” Eddie swallowed, tears burning against his eyes. He rubbed at them angrily. “If Richie is in trouble, you… you need to tell me. Because this… it’s my fault.”

Bill’s face softened and he sighed. “I was pledging to the suh-suh-same fruh-frat as William in fuh-first year…”

xx

William’s hand was pressing against Richie’s lower back, making Richie’s stomach twist up unpleasantly. It wasn’t like being held by Eddie, Eddie’s arm around him or Eddie’s hand in his. He, of course, knew that some fake date with a frat boy would never compare to the love of his life. He didn’t expect it to feel this… wrong.

They came to stop in front of William’s car. His heart clenched up and his tongue felt heavy in his mouth as he said; “Well, this was nice, I’ll… I’ll call you.”

William’s hand grabbed his arm as Richie went to walk away. Richie’s heart was giving off full heart alert signals up to his brain now and he felt weak in his knees. “That’s not how I usually end dates, Rich.” William said, voice oozing and dripping with dirt. William stepped up to him, moving their positions so that Richie was up against the car door with William up in his space. “I usually insist that they come back home with me. I assure that both parties always leave happy.”

“No.” Richie wheezed out, chest tightening. He needed to go, he needed to get to Eddie. He’d never texted Eddie back. “No, I- I- I have a boyfriend.”

That, it seemed, was the wrong thing to say. William’s face darkened, hand coming up from Richie’s wrist to press against his throat. There was no pressure which Richie was being choked, but the fear choked him up all the same. “So, you’re just a little tease then? Some common whore?”

“No, I…” Richie coughed, wondering if his scrawny arms could really fight this asshole off. “I just want to go home. Please?”

“You’re not going anywhere until you learn not to be a little cock slut bastard.” Richie barely got a chance to register the words before a fist was coming at his face.

[thefuckingazebos-blog]

Loverboy (RichiexReader) Part 2

(Authors note: So, this is going to be one of the times before the big bonfire that Richie and YN hung out ALSO just for stories sake because I like drama in my shit, the Bowers Gang ain’t fuckin dead lmao) Word count: 3921 Trigger warning: strong language, and just Henry in general tbh You can read part 1 here

               Richie watched YN intently, studying her inside his head, afraid that if he looked away for even a moment she would just disappear from his life. She was too good to even be real. Too perfect. And for some odd reason, she chose to talk to him. Trashmouth Tozier. The kid that grew up getting the shit kicked out of him for his looks and the fact that he didn’t have a filter between his brain and his mouth. But every time she looked at him, he would lose the words that he was previously saying, his mind going blank. There was something about her that shut him up instantly.

YN could feel herself drawn to Richie, and she wasn’t sure what it was about him that drew her in so much. She wasn’t sure what aspect of this loud mouthed, trash talker it was that made her heart beat quicken and her words turn into a stuttering mess and her mind turn into a giant puddle of nothingness. She wasn’t sure what it was about him that she liked about him, maybe his curly mop of hair or his large framed glasses that she just thought were just the cutest thing she had ever seen. Or maybe it was the way that he would dress himself, some cross between trying and not trying at all with his oversized shirts, cuffed jeans and high-top Van sneakers. She loved how he didn’t dress the same as any other guy she had seen around this small town, and at the same time it intrigued her. She wanted to know how his brained worked, what made the cogs turn inside his mind. Whenever she would look at him or try to get his attention, it was like he was trying everything in his power to avoid her eyes, like he didn’t want her knowing anything about him.

That night, Beverly invited herself over to YN’s house, not that she minded since this was something that Beverly did often enough to the point that YN was used to it, and both of her parents just let it happen. They were sitting on YN’s bed, YN’s back pressed against the wall, her head turned up at the ceiling while Beverly took pictures of her, not really saying much.

“Bev, does Richie like anybody?” YN asked, tilting her head towards Beverly and raising an eyebrow questioningly. Beverly lowered the camera slowly, looking as though she was legitimately thinking about the question that she had just been presented with, then looked back at YN again.

“Other than you?” She asked, causing a faint blush to spread of YN’s cheeks and she shook her head, giggling awkwardly.

“No, Beverly, he doesn’t like me…” YN denied, shaking her head again and looking down at her lap. Beverly rolled her eyes as she raised the camera again, snapping a few more pictures before the sound of the film rolling back into the canister could be heard.

“YN, you’re really oblivious.” Beverly told her in a monotone voice, standing before walking over to her bag and reaching around inside of it for another roll of film. YN pulled one of her knees up to her chest, resting her chin on it. What if Beverly was right and Richie really did like her? That couldn’t be true, Richie had never shown any sign of having feelings for her before, but maybe he was just good at hiding it?

“Do you want to go down to the sewers?” Beverly asked, a sparkle in her eyes as she asked the question. YN looked up at her, raising an eyebrow.

“Are you expecting me to say yes? Beverly, it’s getting late.” YN told her, looking down at the simple silver watch that hung on her wrist. The watch face shown the time ‘6:32’ and YN looked up at Beverly again. Beverly stood in front of her, her features slowly melting into a puppy dog face, knowing that if she pouted enough she could possible get what she wanted from YN. Finally, a defeated sigh escaped through YN’s lips and she slid off the side of her bed, looking around for her shoes.

“I swear to god, Bev, if I get a staph infection from those fucking sewers, I will kill you and myself, don’t test me.” YN warned, pointing a finger at her as she walked towards her bedroom door, leaning over to pick her shoes up that she had kicked next to it when she and Beverly walked in. Slipping them on, she opened her door and motioned for Beverly to walk through. A large smile spread over Beverly’s face and she giddily walked through the door, almost skipping through it. YN rolled her eyes, shaking her head as she followed and took the stairs down two at a time to the front door, picking her keys up off the hook by the front door. Not bothering to call to her parents to tell them that she was leaving, she opened the door once again for Beverly, locking it on her way out. Beverly turned, taking pictures of YN again as she walked towards her old Ford Fiesta, swinging the keys around her finger absentmindedly.

“You’re going to have to tell me where the fuck we’re going, Red.” YN said, looking over her shoulder at Beverly while she opened her door, smiling at her as she snapped another picture. Beverly ran to the other side of the little car, scooting herself into the seat and automatically kicking her feet up onto the dashboard, smirking over at YN.

“Come on, just follow my directions. I got you.” Beverly cooed, causing YN to roll her eyes again in response.

“You’re so ridiculous.” YN said to her, shaking her head and putting the car into reverse, backing out of her driveway. Beverly turned the radio up, bopping her head to the beat as she gave YN directions to one of the sewer openings.

“You’ll have to park your car up on the main road and we can walk down to it.” Beverly told her quickly, looking over as YN groaned and shrugged her shoulders.

“If I die, it’s your fault.” Was all that YN said in response, turning the corner and passing by Mike and Stanley who were riding their bikes to what seemed to be the arcade. When Beverly saw them, she stuck her head out of the window and waved to them, making them laugh and wave back. YN turned her head, looking over her shoulder to see who she was waving at and smiling slightly whenever she saw Mike and Stan peddling a bit faster to keep up. She slowed her car down, so they could catch up and waved at them slightly.

“Where are you guys going?” Stan called through the open window. Beverly leaned against the open window, her head pressed against the side of the door.

“We’re going down to the sewers to take some pictures, do you guys wanna go?” She called back, raising an eyebrow as Mike and Stan looked at each other.

“We’re going to meet up with the other guys, so we’ll be there soon. Is it the main opening?” Mike yelled, getting a nod in response from Beverly.

“You’ll see YN’s car there!” She called as YN turned another corner, now out of view from the two boys. YN looked over at Beverly really quickly before pulling off to the side of the road.

“Do you think that Richie will be with them?” YN asked, getting a smirk from Beverly in response and a shrug of her shoulders.

“If you’re lucky.” Beverly sang out in a joking voice, hoping out of the car. YN slid out, locking her car as she did. Her eyes scanned the wooded area that Beverly was leading her into, a sigh escaping her pursed lips. She trusted Beverly majority of the time, but she wasn’t sure just how much she trusted her at this moment. She wasn’t fond of dying today. The walk down to the sewer opening was more difficult than YN was expecting it to be, what with the upturned roots that she hadn’t been expecting and the jumps that she didn’t know she would be required to take. If she had known, she would have worn different shoes. When Beverly looked back at YN, waiting for her to catch up, she reached her hand out for YN to take. YN took it without a second thought, allowed Beverly to lead her the rest of the way to the opening of the sewer. When they walked into the opening, YN scrunched her nose, stepping her way around the murky water carefully.

“Gross…” She muttered, stepping towards one edge of the sewer, leaning herself up against it. Her fingers touched the cool concrete delicately, tracing over the writings that were there. ‘Bowers’ was spray painted in big letters that she looked at carefully, wondering who this Bowers person was. She still didn’t know a whole lot about this town, and was still trying to meet as many people as she could. Beverly raised the camera to take a picture, hearing the film roll back up soon after the photo snapped. She looked down at it with a frown, then looked back up at YN.

“I left my film in your car. I’ll be right back, okay? I don’t want you to have to go back up there, you were kinda slow.” Bev teased, turning so that she could walk back up to the car. YN watched her, walking back to the opening of the sewer, leaning against the concrete again so that she could wait. It was starting to get later, and it was making her more uncomfortable the longer she waited for Beverly to come back. She heard a cracking noise around her, but she was too afraid to turn her head to see what it was. It hadn’t been too long since Beverly had left, so it couldn’t possibly be her already. She heard footsteps over her shoulder and she slowly turned her head, hoping with everything that she had that it was maybe the other Losers, but it wasn’t.

“Well what do we have here, fellas?” A boy with a sandy blonde mullet asked, a smirk on his face and a glint in his eyes that made YN uneasy. She stood up a bit straighter, taking a step away from the sewer, turning towards the boys. A tall boy with longer, black hair was looking at her like an animal, eyes crazy and hungry. Everything about it made her want to run away as fast as she could. He looked dangerous, and she didn’t fucking like it. The other two boys looked slightly more harmless, still obviously capable of something, otherwise they wouldn’t be with the two more intimidating boys. “Oh come on, girly, we ain’t gunna hurt ya.” The mullet boy said, getting closer to her and reaching out, brushing her hair over her shoulder and causing her to flinch back.

“I never said you were going to hurt me.” YN defended, crossing her arms over her chest, standing up straighter. The boy snorted, raising an eyebrow at her.

“Then why do you look so scared?” He asked, leaning himself closer as he jammed his hands into his pockets. YN took another step back, flipping her long hair over her shoulder and watching him carefully, looking at the other boys quickly from over his shoulder. “My name is Henry. Bowers. That’s Patrick Hockstetter, Belch Huggins and Victor Criss. But you can call me daddy, baby girl.” He winked, making her skin crawl and her face turn a bright red color. He made her uncomfortable and he knew it. Everything about him was making her uncomfortable, and something about him screamed to run away and not turn around. Every step she took, he would take another step closer to her. Finally, her back hit the hard bark of a tree behind her and she knew that now she was stuck. There was no way for her to get away from Henry Bowers.

“Uhm…I need to go find my friend.” YN tried saying, hoping that he would let her go without a struggle, but she knew better than that. She wasn’t stupid, and obviously neither was he. He chuckled, one of his hands reaching up and pressing against the tree next to her head, raising an eyebrow at her again.

“If they were your friends they wouldn’t leave you out here in the woods by yourself, now would they?” He asked her and she looked at him, anger blooming inside of her.

“They’ll be right back.” She told him, readying herself to kick him where the sun don’t shine when she heard someone call from the other side of the sewer opening.

“Get away from her, Bowers.” Eddie yelled, anger filling his voice. Eddie didn’t get angry like this easily or often, but he hated Henry Bowers and his gang of assholes more than most people did. Henry looked over his shoulder at Eddie and smirked.

“Oh yeah? What are you losers going to do about it?” Henry asked, pulling YN around with one arm, her back pressed tightly to his chest. She squirmed slightly which only caused him to pull her in tighter. A low whimper escaped her closed lips and her eyes searched her friends, obvious distress on her face. She wanted them to run forward and save her from this boy, but at the same time she knew if they did he would either hurt her, or his friends would stop them before they could even get to her. She felt him reach into his pocket and pull something out but she couldn’t turn her head to see what it was. She wanted to look but was more afraid that he would hurt that she didn’t dare look over. The look on the others faces told her that it wasn’t good whatever it was, and it only made her more worried by the second.

“Henry, just let her go, you have nothing to gain from this.” Ben tried reasoning, but Henry just laughed, pulling something cold to her neck delicately, tracing over her flesh. Her eyes went wide once she realized the tip of knife was pressed to her skin, and her eyes locked with Richie. His face was stone, no emotion being shown, but his eyes held all the words he wanted to say in that moment. It was obvious that he was freaking out just as much, maybe more than the others were. The knife pressed slightly harder into her neck and she winced, trying to move away from the blade that would surely end up hurting her in the end of this show down. Richie took a step forward, anger covering his face now.

“Why can’t you just fuck off? Do you always have to be such a cunt?” Richie almost yelled, anger dripping from his words. YN was caught off guard at his sudden burst of confidence, but this confidence was much at her expense because she was the one on the receiving end of this knife. Henry growled slightly under his breath, then took a fist full of YN’s hair, a smirk on his lips.

“Want me to fuck off? Fine, I will, Trashmouth. Not without a little souvenir though.” He replied, pulling the blade up to her long hair and cutting off a fist full, not close to her head, but now one whole side of her hair was almost even with her chin where it had previously almost been touching her waist. A large gasp escaped her mouth as he pushed her away from himself, laughing with the rest of his fucking idiot friends, walking away from the girl who had stumbled over her own feet, landing roughly on the ground, grabbing at her hair frantically.

“He cut my fucking hair!” She screeched, jumping back to her feet and turning around, wanting to go after him as she watched him leave with that fist full of her hair. “I hope you get hit by a fucking train you asshole!” She screamed in a fit of anger, grabbing at her hair again and feeling as if at any second she would burst into tears. She felt a delicate hand grab her shoulder just as a tear escaped from her watery eyes and she looked over her shoulder at Stan, who had been the first to walk forward.

“It’s not that bad, YN…we can cut the rest of it, so it doesn’t look weird…” He tried to calm her, wrapping an arm over her shoulders. “But…your hair doesn’t look bad short.” He added, causing her to finally burst into disgusting sobs, pulling herself away from Stan and falling against the first person at her other side. Richie looked down at her as she pressed her face on his chest, the sobbing only getting worse as he stood there, not sure what to do. Finally, he wrapped his long arms around her, pulling her closer into the hug and pressing his face against the top of her head.

“It’s okay, YN. You still look beautiful.” Richie whispered to her in a serious tone, low enough that only she could hear.

“I’ve been growing my hair out since elementary school! It’s the only thing that’s never changed, you don’t understand.” She almost yelled, and she was right. Nobody knew the emotional attachment she had to her hair, and Henry Bowers just stripped that from her like it was nothing. From all the moving, heart breaks, everything that she had gone through in her life, her hair was the one thing that never changed and that she was in control of, and that fucking asshole took that from her in one swift motion, as if it was nothing. She reached for her hair again, feeling how short it really was, then feeling the other side, how it still hung close to her waist. She pulled her body away from Richie, shaking her head and looking back at Beverly.

“I want to go home now.” She said to her, turning and walking back up the hill, through the woods to her car. A soft buzzing rang through her ears, drowning out the sound of the footsteps from the Losers that followed her back to her car, all of them in silence as they watched YN pull at the long side of her hair as she walked, still in shock from what had happened. Maybe she was being ridiculous, a lot of people wouldn’t act like this over some hair, but to her this was a huge deal.

“We can cut the rest of your hair now, if you want. I think I have some scissors in my second fanny pack.” Eddie finally said as they reached YN’s car, and also where they had left their bikes when they showed up. YN shrugged her shoulders, feeling as if her world was crashing down slowly.

“I guess. Just do whatever.” YN said in a defeated tone, sitting down on the hood of her car. She looked down at her shoes, shaking her head and looking up again as Eddie pulled a pair of scissors from a black fanny pack that he got from his bike. He held them up to her, allowing her to take them from him. She looked at them for a minute, then up at the other losers. Her eyes landed on Richie again, much like they usually did when he was around, and she held them out for him to take from her.

 “I want you to do it.” YN said in a quiet voice, watching as Richie’s face changed, his eyes growing wide as he looked at her. His eyes flicked to the scissors that she held in her hand and he reached out, taking them from her and walking closer. She stared at his chest that was directly in front of her, studying the way it rose and fell as he breathed, trying to focus on anything except for the fact that right now he was going to be cutting the hair she had been working so hard to grow out. He put his hands on her shoulders, bringing his face down so that it was even with hers before even putting the scissors near her hair.

“I just want you to know that, no matter what, we still think you’re rad as all fuck. And I think you’re pretty, even with short hair.” He told her, making her heart beat a little harder in her chest, not expecting him to say such sweet things to her, but maybe it was because he knew that right now we really stressful for her. He turned her shoulders slightly, getting her to turn her body around so that her back was facing him, and pulled all her hair so that it was straight down her back. He took a deep breath before raising the scissors up and cutting the rest of her hair even with what Henry had cut, his ears picking up on the soft crying from YN as he did this. When he was finished cutting the rest of her hair, he brushed it gently off of the hood of her car and took a step back, giving Eddie back his scissors. The Losers looked at the back of YN’s head until she finally turned around, looking at all of them. A smile spread over Beverly’s lips as YN’s eyes locked with hers. She gave her a small thumb up and YN giggled a bit, tucking some of the hair behind her hair.

“Yo-yo-you look cute, Y-Y-YN.” Bill told her, his cheeks slightly pink when she looked at him and grinned widely.

“Awe, Billy!” She almost squealed, jumping up and hugging him. The others laughed at Bill’s confused expression, just shaking their heads in response. Finally, YN looked at Beverly again and pointed to her car.

“NOW were going home.” YN told her, waving goodbye to the boys as she and Beverly slid into her car. YN continued to feel her hair as she did this, running her fingers over the ends gently. She let out a large sigh and looked at herself in her rearview mirror before pulling away from the boys, leaving them standing there with each other, talking quietly. Richie was rubbing the back of his neck, looking down at his shoes. Why had she acknowledged what Bill had said to her, but not what he had? Did they have something going on that the others didn’t know about. Richie looked over at him, glaring from behind his thick glasses.

“Are you fucking her?” Richie asked in an angry tone, catching everyone off guard by the sudden question. Bill looked at him with wide eyes, shaking his head.

“Ri-richie no! What the hell?” Bill asked, giving his friend a confused looked, causing Richie to blush and shake his head.

“Just wondering…” Richie said in a quiet voice before walking back over to his bike, picking it up off the ground. “Are we going back to the arcade or what? I want to beat my high score and you panty sniffers are keeping me from doing that.” He accused, pointing at them. Stan rolled his eyes, picking up his handle bars and punching Richie gently in the shoulder.

“You’re disgusting.” Stan and Eddie said almost simultaneously, shaking their heads.

[stozzierr]

What A Wonderful World

author’s note: okay so i wrote this fic a while ago and i never got around to putting it on tumblr?? for some reason?? i dunno why but i didn’t. but i am now!! so!! enjoy.

warnings: angst, mentions of blood, richie dyin lmao

ships: mentions of stozier, bichie, reddie

read on ao3 here

Everything that could have gone wrong, has gone wrong. It, that vile creature, had its long arms clutching onto Bill whilst the other losers stood a few feet away, watching the situation playing out before them. "Leave.." Bill managed to wheeze out, his voice laced with regret and hopelessness, knowing that if the other Losers wouldn't leave, It would just take them too. But there was one person that Bill couldn't tear his hazel eyes away from: Richie. One of the closest friends he'd ever made. If anyone had a reason to leave Bill behind, it was Richie. And the glasses-clad boy made sure to list out all the reasons he could think of.

"I told you, Bill... I fucking told you. I don't wanna die!" Richie shouted, his voice cracking with emotion. "It's your fault. You punched me in the face... Made me walk through shitty water... Brought me to a fucking crackhead house!" Bill could feel It shift around, obviously a little angered by the comment. If the situation wasn't life-or-death, Bill would have laughed. "And now.." Right when Bill thought Richie was going to leave him behind, bring everyone else with him, he saw his pale arm extended and grab onto a baseball bat. Hope, just some hope, returned to Bill.

"I'm going to have to kill this fucking clown."

If you were to ask Bill who the first friend he made was, it was Eddie. A small ball of anger ready to fight at every given moment, as long as his asthma didn't act out against him. Which, it often did. But then, if you were to ask who the second friend he made was, it would be Richie.

Second grade, one of the best grades of his life. It teetered on the border between just another grade to play in and actually doing work. It was a perfect balance, and Bill's 7-year-old mind wished it could be this way forever. There was one problem though: he got Mrs. Jalinski for a teacher, and Eddie got Mr. Linden. Great. They were separated, and Bill could either choose to go about his school year without making any friends in his class, or he could just man up and be friendly. While he was more inclined to take the first offer - stuttering over your words was more likely to get you laughed at than make friends - a little boy in the corner caught his eyes.

He seemed to be just as lonely as Bill did on this first day of school. Bill had seen him hop around excitedly for the first hour or so of school, trying to make friends, but ultimately failing altogether. Not many people could properly handle his obnoxiousness, even if they were all around the same age. Bill felt a pang of hurt in his chest as he watched this boy, with curly dark hair and glasses too big for his face, coloring alone in the corner. So, he made a decision and began to make his way over to the boy.

At first, the boy didn't even seem to notice him. He continued coloring, his scribbles making out to either be nonsense, a dragon, or a squid, with determination to finish. Bill watched him for a minute, before taking a deep breath and speaking. "Hey, y-yuh-you seem lonely ov-ve-er here. Why are you a-al-alone?" Curse him and his stutters!

The boy flinched a little bit, his big wide eyes magnified behind his thick lenses, but a smile split over his cheeks nearly immediately. "You talk funny."

Bill flushed in embarrassment. "And you di-did-didn't answer my que-qu-" He sucked in an annoyed breath, "question."

The boy just simply smiled wider. "My bestest best friend didn't stop going to first grade yet. He got sick a lot. His name is Stanley and he's a Jew." He said it like it was the most casual thing in the world. Bill didn't know the meaning of 'Jew', and frankly, he believed Richie didn't either. But if he took it so casually, why shouldn't Bill? "What about you?"

"M-Muh-My friend is in a different class than I am." Bill replied with a shrug, before asking, "What's your na-a-ame?"

"Oh! Almost forgot the pleasanties." The boy said, trying to sound smart. Bill had no idea what 'pleasanties' meant. "I'm Richard Mason Tozier! But Stanley calls me Richie for short. So you can do that too."

"Richie..." Bill repeated to himself, a happy smile of his own appearing on his lips. He liked the sound of it. "My name his B-Buh-Bill Denbrough. But E-heh-heddie calls me Bill."

"Well, B-Buh-Bill, it's nice to meet you!" Richie grinned and thrust a handful of crayons Bill's way. "Here, come color with me."

And he did.

Stan could barely believe the sight he saw before his eyes. The pain on his face was immeasurable, but the only thing that could surpass that pain was the guilt in his heart as he watched Richie pace around, listing the things Bill had done. He knew that if he were in Richie's place, he would have "got the fuck out of dodge", in Richie's words, and left Bill behind. Yeah, it was a shitty thing to do and he knew that, but he couldn't help it. He didn't want to die here, not now.

But of course, Richie being Richie, he stood up for Bill. Stanley had always admired Richie for his courage, his courage to walk into Neibolt twice, to walk into the Barrens with Bill with no second thoughts, to stand up to Bowers when it counted. Stanley admired Richie, a lot of things about him. And he, undoubtedly, loved him more than anyone in his life.

To watch Richie slam a metal bat into the face of a clown was surely a sight to see, and pride filled Stan's chest. If Richie could do this, Stanley surely could, facial wounds be damned. With his own bravery coursing through his veins, he charged forward with the rest of his friends to attack.

He didn't know when it happened, the need to kill the god damn clown blinding his vision, but Richie managed to fall to the floor and not get back up. Nobody seemed to notice, but he continued to shout profanities and encouragements, which got weaker with every passing second. But of course, the losers failed to notice his voice died out, and his dirtied self not standing next to the rest of them while It dangled from the top of a large pit. Only when Pennywise finally fell to Its demise did Stanley look back, and horror and tears pooled in his eyes all at once as he shrieked, alerting the rest of the losers.

Richie was lying on the ground, blood seeping from large scratch marks dragged up his abdomen.

If you asked Stanley when he fell in love, he'd respond with, "I've always loved him." If you asked when he could pinpoint it, he'd respond with a simple, "The exact moment Bill and Eddie fell in love with him."

Because, honestly, it was true.

The exact date was July 7th, 1987. Richie and Bill were 11, Stanley and Eddie were 10.

The four boys had planned to meet each other at the Quarry, one of their favorite places to spend time. Stan and Eddie had met up at the Kaspbrak household, met Bill up at his house after he said goodbye to sweet little Georgie, and then went to the Tozier household. After being told that Richie had already left by Maggie, Richie's mother, the three decided to just meet Richie up there. They thought he just went to the corner store to grab some gum. So down the three boys biked, chatting aimlessly and enjoying the peace of not having to deal with stupid jokes from their Trashmouthed friend.

Bill and Eddie haphazardly dumped their bikes in their specific bike-dumping spot, surprised to see Richie's rusty old bike laying there already. Stan, being the sensible one, kicked down the kickstand. When the bikes, their metal creating commotion, stopped moving, Stanley caught the sound of soft singing. Eddie, opening his mouth to ask what the hell that was, was quickly shut up by Stan slapping a hand over his lips. He'd never heard it before, and honestly, it was beautiful. Bill and Eddie must have agreed because they walked towards it like a siren was calling for them. Stanley did the only sensible thing and followed after them.

"I see trees of green, red roses too. I see them bloom for me and you. And I think to myself, 'What a wonderful world...'" Richie, that bastard, sang so softly, yet so passionately, that the three boys thought they had their friend mixed up with someone else. But no, it was Richie, with a bruise on his face given to him by Bowers earlier in the day. He had headphones on his head as he listened to music, Louis Armstrong's voice flowing into his ears and giving him the confidence he needed to sing, albeit he thought he was alone.

As Richie continued to croon, Stanley stole a glance at Bill and Eddie. Eddie was, for once, quiet, with no remark on how stupid this all was. He glanced over at Bill, who looked back at both Stanley and Eddie. Stanley could feel his heart pound in his ears as he stared back at Richie, barely processing Bill tugging him and Eddie backwards so they can act like they never saw Richie singing in his safe space.

Stanley Uris was in love with a boy who liked Louis Armstrong. He didn't quite know how he felt about that.

If you asked Eddie what the saddest moment of his life was, he'd tell you it was right now.

After hearing the ear-splitting shriek from Stan, everyone whipped their heads back to see what he was staring at. Eddie couldn't quite describe what he was feeling. Looking back on it, he knew he should have felt sad, or angry, or upset. No, he was just numb at the first glance at Richie, refusing to believe what he saw was real. Beverly, with her long, strong legs, got to Richie's body before anyone else did. "Richie? Trashmouth, come on, answer!"

A harsh cough ripped itself from Richie's throat, blood coming up with it and splattering onto the ground. "Woah, chill, not so loud..." He laughed weakly, the simple action he did every day causing him immense pain. Stanley, Bill, and Eddie stood in shock for a moment, while Ben and Mike made their way over to him. With Beverly barking quick orders at the both of them, Mike was instructed to grab any piece of cloth he could find from the large pile of toys in the center of the room while Ben was instructed to press said clothe against the bleeding wounds, applying as much pressure as he could without making Richie kick the bucket.

Watching them move made Eddie kick into action, his little legs carrying him swiftly to the scene with Stan and Bill quickly trailing behind. His size was deceitful, as he shoved Ben aside with ease. "No, no, you're doing it wrong, this is wrong, he'll die and we'll have done nothing about it!" Eddie rambled on, regretting throwing his fanny pack away in the front yard of the Neibolt Street house. If he wasn't so stupid, he could be saving Richie, Richie wouldn't be dying-!

A soft hand grasped his own, and Eddie looked into Richie's eyes. And his heart shattered. Richie had a look of knowing in his eyes, knowing that he wouldn't be able to make it out of the sewers alive. Stan seemed to notice it, too, as he let out a small sob while Mike held him, who was also fighting back tears.

Bill was the first to talk. "R-Ruh-Richie, wh-a-aht are w-we-we goi-go-going to d-do with-th-out y-yo-you..?" He muttered through the tears, grasping Richie's limp hand. The other boy just laughed softly, shaking his head.

"For starters, you'll have to break it to Eddie's mom that our sessions have been cut short.." Nobody laughed. "Come on, not even one laugh? You're the toughest crowd I've ever faced.."

"Richie, you fucking moron!" Eddie sobbed, standing up with clenched fists. "This isn't some fucking joke! You're fucking dying in front of us and we can't do anything about it! Richie, you've been so important to us, and now you're fucking leaving us?! For good?! This is bullshit! And to top it all off, you make some joke about my mother!" Eddie's knees wobbled as he struggled to stand, Beverly's tear-stained hand grabbing his own. She must have been trying to get the tears to stop the whole time.

Richie, with a hand utterly soaked in blood, fixed his glasses and smeared the red onto the lenses. Stanley wanted to fix them, call Richie an idiot for getting them dirty, but he couldn't find it in him. He couldn't find anything in him anymore, the Richie's ripped skin visible through his blood-soaked stupid Hawaiian shirt. Richie let the hand fall back to his side. "Come on, Eddie Spaghetti, don't be like that.."

"Don't... Don't call me that.." Eddie whimpered, sniffling and not bothering to shout anymore. "You know how I.." He couldn't finish. There was no point. The last little bit of life Richie had clung onto was gone, Richie was gone, gone gone gone.

Someone, or maybe all of them, let out loud shrieking sobs.

"Richie!"

As life always does, life moved on without Richie in it. Bill had flat-out refused to leave Richie's corpse in the sewers ("He w-wuh-wouldn't like it and you fucking kn-o-ow that."), Mike offering to carry him out. Having to explain to the Tozier family that their only child was dead without revealing the existence of Pennywise was proven both difficult and painful to do. The group's dynamic was broken, their happy-go-lucky comic relief having left them for good. They split up only a month later, Beverly moving to Portland with her aunt, Bill leaving Derry for a vacation and never returning, and the others leaving Derry at their own pace. With the exception of Mike, who stayed back as everyone swore to come back and avenge Richard Tozier (and Georgie Denbrough and the other missing kids, of course) had Pennywise ever returned.

And avenge them they did. The cost was high, but they did it. Eddie and Stan didn't make it to see the end of Its terrifying reign, while Mike ended up in the hospital. Beverly and Ben left Derry soon after It's death to start a family of their own, leaving Bill to try and get Audra to come back from her comatose state. There was one thing that William Denbrough never forgot to do.

Leave flowers on a grave deep within Derry's Cemetery.

Richard Tozier (1976 - 1989)

The Boy Of A Thousand Voices

Making people smile every day, even after death.

[losers-party-imagines]

can i request a richie x reader x stan where the reader is basically a female richie and for some reason stan is really attracted to it but so is richie and they kinda fight over her but the reader likes stan and stan is kinda like ‘haha i win’ lmao thanks

"Hey, foxy lady! What's going on?" Richie asked you while putting his arm around you, completely ignoring the fact that Stan was having a conversation with you 

“hey there good looking, what the fuck are you doing here? Thought you had stuff to do you shithead” you told him and leaned closer to him

Damn, even with a mouth like Richie’s you seemed to make the most profane words sound like music to Stan’s ear, sure he had a major crush on you but when would he confess? When you’re not with him you’re with Richie writing down insults, and if you’re alone he pops back up just like right now

“your shithead friend finished early and decided to look for my kindred spirit”

“Richie stop leaning in you’re squishing y/n” the two person booth clearly didn’t ask for an extra person

“why don’t you get up and leave, that’s why god gave you legs you idiot” Richie spat

great, here they go again

“maybe you should get your butt out of here Richie” A respond from Stan came from you left

“what was that crooked nose?” could’t hear you from that bullshit falling out of your mouth” the boy on the right spoke with venom in his voice “I bet I can beat you of we get in a fight”

“Richie if you fight Stan I will shove my foot way up you ass that it would come out of your fucking mouth, now please let me enjoy my time with Stan and leave”

“I’ll leave if you answer this question y/n, who would you rather kiss me or him?” the boy on the right gave a cocky smile

“well that’s easy” you lean into Stanley and give him a kiss on the lips “don’t let your door his your ass when you leave Tozier”

Stan sees Richie stand up and leave, holy fuck did y/n really kiss him?!

Stan lets out a small laugh and Y/N turns to him

“Stan why are you laughing?” 

“because I can’t believe I actually beat Richie in getting the most awesome girl in the whole world,heck in the whole galaxy

“care to ask this awesome girl on fucking date anytime soon” the y/c haired girl inquires

“it will be my pleasure, how about tomorrow after school?”

[har-rison-s]

Spiders In Your Hair

Request: Hi! Can I have a Stan Uris x female reader who loooveesss playing with his hair because she too has curly hair like his (I'm self indulgent) and knows how good it feels when someone plays with it? (My hairs like to my mid neck and is curly like Wyatt's AND is the same color lmao) thanks dear, have a good day/night.

A/N: Cute!! The first Stan request and I'm executing it the third. But that's okay, can't help how my creativity floats. Floats, heheheehhe. Don't let me joke. I have the same hair as Wyatt, too, only I have golden brown-blonde curls, not brown. But his are so pretty.... Omfg. I'm melting. I hope this is what you were looking for! Happy reading!

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warnings: nothing, except talks of spiders

The Clubhouse was a place full of love and warmth, a place no one except the losers know and could uncover. They've done a good job at hiding it from anyone, thanks to Ben's incredibly high knowledge in architecture and nature's own cunning ways of concealing the lower levels.

But, as much as the sun shone through some holes in the ground accidentally made, it isn't enough sunbathing for Y/N. Plus, her hair heats up her head what with the curls being concealed by Stanley's bought shower-cap. Her shower-cap has hearts, he made sure of that when he was shopping for them.

She hates spiders, so she doesn't mind the shower-cap when she's in the Clubhouse. But it tends to irritate her skin, and she's glad when it's off, outside of the Clubhouse.

This being one of those days. Her hair is disobedient today of all days, when she had to meet Stan and the others and not stay at home with her family. She did wash it, but maybe her mother's shampoo isn't working for her hair. It's extremely dry and going in all directions. She can't control it.

“I'm going, um, upstairs,” she tells everyone with a smile and the crowd nods. Stan follow his girl suit, much rather glad to enjoy her company than to be hearing Richie and Eddie's eternal bickering. It's killing his nerves.

“Go, Stan, run after your girlie!” Richie mocks him, which earns him a hard jab in his left side from Beverly. Y/N only shakes her head and runs up the wooden stairs. 

She sighs once she's gotten the cap off and her hair waves all around her. She sits down by the tree that's almost next to the entrance, her head and back against the wooden base. She closes her eyes. She doesn't need sunglasses.

“Hey, lovely.” She hears Stan saying and she squeezes one eye open to look at him. Her face is scrunched up due to the sun rays and she looks ever so cute in his eyes. Stan smiles wide and walks over to her on his slightly wobbly, but firm legs. She's always loved his stance.

Y/N spreads her legs a little, her dress stretching along, and patting her lap. Stan giggles and gladly slays down in her lap, his head resting on her stomach. She gets a bit more comfortable, sliding down a little. For both their comfort. Her hands lay over his shoulders, palms on his chest and he reaches upwards with his hands to hold them. Her fingers are just as small as his own, but more slender.

“When are we leaving for camp again?” Stanley asks, looking up at his girlfriend. 

“Um... August 5th.” She says and slowly retracts her hands from Stanley's, going up in his hair instead. 

“Then we still have three weeks to pack.” He states and his eyelids drop at the feeling of her fingers going through his curls, gently touching his scalp. “Is there anything we need to take with us?”

“Nothing except for a blank, white t-shirt.” Y/N responds. Her fingers are parting his curls here and there, admiring how beautiful they look in the sunlight. Shining like the curls of an angel from heaven. He looks like an angel, and he is in all possible ways. “I bet you five bucks we're gonna make tie-dye shirts for ourselves.” She states.

Stan giggles, holding his stomach. “You—You don't even have five bucks.” He points out. Y/N joins him in laughing, both their laughter audible from inside the clubhouse. “Why do you think tie-dye?” Stan questions.

Y/N shrugs. “White shirts. Camp. Camp activities. Maybe we're gonna be painting on the shirts or something.” She wonders. His hair strands feel like ribbons around her fingers and hands. She could spend her whole life threading through the curls, watch as they grow longer until Stanley starts looking a bit like a dog with fur. She laughs inwardly at that.

“If we are, I'm gonna paint a Bohemian Waxwing.” Stan decides. 

“Oh, the pretty birdie with the grey, white and red feathers?” Y/N cheers and feels Stanley nodding his head under her hands. “That would be really pretty. Maybe you could paint more than one, as if they're sitting in a tree or on a... an electric wire. You know, the classic scenery.”

Stan chuckles and nods again. “That would be really cool.”

“It would be the coolest shirt ever, babe.” She tells him. 

“What would you paint on the shirt, love?” Stan questions and turns to lay on his back in her lap, taking her hands from his hair gingerly. He places his palms flat out against hers and, as they're looking at each other, he bends his fingers so that their hands are interlocked.

“Your eyes, I think.” She admits, looking into those hazel jewels. “Or your eyes and hair.” Stanley blushes, and he's not ashamed to show his crimson cheeks. He doesn't hide anything form her. He smiles wide. 

“It wouldn't exactly be fair to you that I'm painting a bird and you—me.” He states in a quiet voice. Y/N reaches her left palm to his curls again, brushing them off his forehead, behind his ear. 

“Well, really, it could be anyone.” She says. “Only you and I would know it's you. And that's okay, I'll forgive you.” She smiles, chuckling for a second. “You're better at drawing birds than people.”

“Hey!” Stan pokes her arm, but not too harshly. 

“We both know it. In fact, all of us do.” Y/N justifies. Stan rolls his eyes, but there's still a smile on his face. “It'll come with time, baby.”

“I'm gonna need more tutoring from you, then.” Stan then tells her and sits up to her level. His hand reaches for her hair behind her ear, his thumb soothing over her cheek. She almost falls into his hand, loving the touch. And even if her hair is beyond ugly today, she doesn't protest him touching her hair.

Stanley keeps his eyes on her, a peaceful lovingness in them. The sun on them is so warm they both feel like falling asleep on the spot. Stan pulls her lips to his in a slow, tender kiss. She puts her hand around the wrist he's holding her head with and pulls apart their lips. Their foreheads rest against one another. 

“With kissing like that you can expect much more than tutoring.” She tells him and they both giggle. 

“Oh, yeah? Like what?” He asks, his fingers twirling a curl of hers between them. 

“Well... Dinner with my family.” Y/N responds and bites her lip immediately, anxious about Stanley's response. He withdraws from her, eyes wide and eyebrows raised in surprise.

“Th-They want to invite me over for dinner?” He questions. Y/N raises her eyebrows, too, slightly. 

“My parents do want to meet the boy who I'm going to camp with.” She says. “And I think I'm finally ready to tell them about you. Like, about being together.” She tells him, looking down at her hands due to her shyness. But Stanley smiles so wide he even lets out a laugh of happiness.

He gives his girl many kisses on both her cheeks, making her blush and giggle uncontrollably. She tries to push him off her, but she can't find the strength to and stays in her boyfriend's embrace and wrath of kisses until he stops. 

“I'm so happy.” Stan says, pressing his cheek against Y/N's while he hugs her close to him. “Happy for you. Happy for us.” He tells her and Y/N can only smile to herself. Her hands are loosely hanging around Stanley's neck and fingers again threading into her curls. “Oh, my goodness.” The young man suddenly gasps and Y/N looks up at him. 

“What? What is it?” Is something wrong? Does he not want to come over for dinner? Is he afraid of her family?

“I don't know what I'm going to wear.” Stanley says with theatrical fright in his eyes and face. Y/N narrows her eyes at him out of simple annoyance that he scared her a little. Taking what they've all been through, a fake scare could still be a scare. 

“I suggest you come in your swimming trunks. That'll make a good impression.” She tells him, paying back for a false alarm from him. The statement makes Stanley blush and he clears his throat. 

“Right-o.” 

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Stanley Uris tag-list: @nightbu-g

I miss him so much :( and i want him happy. rrrr

[har-rison-s]

heaven: 3

take it in

request/plot: Stan x Reader where they were together back in Derry and kind of forgot about each other after moving away but they always had a void in their lives. And then when Stan is just about to do it after Mikes call his phone rings and it’s you and you’re crying after just getting off the phone with Mike to come to Derry. You both end up going back and seeing each other at the restaurant and you guys just catch up after all these years that passed and old feelings come back. A/N: Y'all ain't ready for what you're about to read hHEHEHEHEH. Lmao. I had some huge inspo to write this, so thank god for that! Hope you still like this series, and I hope to do you guys and myself justice with this and the following parts. Happy reading! warnings: smut, feelings, 'heavy stuff'.

word count: 1.6k (surprisingly)

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gif credit goes to owner, which is not me!

The Losers Club are a mess, that is certain. Only Y/N and Stanley seem to hold a clear sight and a clear mind out of all eight of them. But, they were just as emotional. And in a panic, too. None of them want to die, they're scared of death, their survival instinct is stronger than ever. As much as they can delay the possibility of them dying, they will do it.

Y/N holds Beverly's shaking shoulders as puffs of smoke surround them both now. Beverly's crying as she tells her friends what kind of fate awaits them all if they don't stop IT now, in this cycle. She claimed to have seen all her friends die horribly, and it scared Y/N and her both. She had forgot these sort-of predicaments until now, and Y/N wondered how scared Beverly must be having these images she saw twenty-seven years ago in her mind again.

There is also a hand on Y/N's shoulder. It belongs to Stanley. A comforting gesture, just like her hands are on Beverly, to give her comfort. But there is a difference in Stanley's hold. There's sort of an electricity in it. One that's bound to be released. And they both know when it's gonna be.

When they look at each other, Y/N having to look from below Stanley due to where she was sitting, they can't seem to look away. Stanley's eyes are magnetic and pulling her towards him. Y/N's are inviting, daring and challenging, almost, challenging him to do what he's afraid to. One of the many things on that list. She's asking him to risk everything. And he wants to say yes.

Stanley's a little sceptical of how Bill looks. The man looks dazed, almost drugged. Stanley looks to Mike and he has got a pleased look on his face. The look of achievement. Stanley realises he's convinced Bill with some hallucinogenics. God, they're truly a mess. What lengths does Mike have to go to convince his scared friends. It seems silly that he has to do what he's done. They're his best friends, after all.

Richie and Eddie are ready to leave any second, but Bill convinces them to stay. With great effort, though, the two are set on leaving this exact second and from Stanley's memories, both men are very stubborn. But since everyone is adamant to stay except for Eddie and Richie, they realised they have to stay, after all. The Losers Club can't stop IT if they're not all together. Richie and Eddie know that well.

Mike goes back to the Library for the night, making a deal with his friends that they'll meet before sunrise of the next day at the Library. All eight will need a normal night of sleep before their journey. Journey back to the past to protect the future. But how can they sleep? How can they be at peace, thinking of what would await them.

Insomnia tortures Richie, so he goes into Eddie's room to see if Eddie's awake, too. He is, and Richie's sudden presence scares him a little. They stay up, talking to each other while they play cards, their voices soft. Sometimes their voices die down, sometimes they get higher and sometimes even louder.

Beverly found solace in being awake by going to Bill. They also stayed awake together, talking from time to time. Mostly about memories of Derry and each other. Some things almost lead to other things, almost. Tension is definitely thick in the air in Bill's room once Beverly came in.

Ben, as always, is alone. He thinks he's always going to be alone, and is now used to it already. He is his own best friend. He's never felt lonely in his life, but when he knows Beverly is in Bill's room, Ben Hanscom feels like the loneliest man in the world. He pulls out the folded page he's kept in his wallet for years, and looks at it. The light from the street lamp shines through the window and onto the page, making it easier for Ben to read what it says, for the hundredth time. He sighs.

The instant Stanley's room door was closed, they were on each other. All over each other, breathing and taking in one another. Remembering how the other felt, what they liked, how to please the other. They're re-discovering each other, how they were together, how they felt in moments of heat.

Y/N and Stanley are tearing at each other's clothes and skins and lips and hair, they're mad together. They're mad to spend every second of the night together, spend the time given to them wisely. Who knows what the sunrise and morning will bring? Who knows what the next day will bring to them? Not one moment must be wasted.

They don't need sleep, they don't need rest. They don't need anything except each other. And the high they got off the other. The pair could do with only that to survive the rest of their lives.

Y/N can't remember Stanley ever being so bold, so brutal in making love. Sure, they'd done it a few times until he had to leave after high school. But no time was ever as vile and as desperate as this. And she loved it. There were no words, no questions, no hesitation. There was only missed-out love and desperation.

The pair hadn't even undressed completely when Stanley entered Y/N with his cock full of desire. Her head fell against the poor thin hotel door and she screamed. Stanley grunted and tilted her head back in its previous place. So she'd be facing him.

Stanley kept his eyes locked on Y/N while he thrusted into her and she whined and moaned, as well as he kept his hands on her hips. Her hands were taking turns roaming and squeezing his back and the back of his neck, and she tried her best to keep their eye contact. But it was hard. And, damn, Stanley was so hard. Y/N felt like she would die then and there from it, even without going back to Neibolt.

It would be hard not to hear them screwing like complete animals if you were standing at the hotel's entrance. Ben was sure Y/N and Stanley could be heard all over town. Eddie and Richie used the hotel-given ear plugs - with their disadvantages -, and Bill and Beverly decided they should split and spend the rest of the time remaining in their own separate rooms.

But when Y/N and Stanley reached their orgasms, my God, what their friends heard before wasn't even close to being as loud as that was. They had never imagined that Stanley and Y/N, the most shy people from them eight, would be this loud during sex. But Beverly guessed there wasn't just pleasure in those screams. There was terror and desperation, there was hope and praying to a higher power. And she had guessed right.

Y/N stayed held against the door by Stanley. They needed a little while to regain themselves, their breaths, their ever-so-clear minds. Well, their minds were hazy with a thick fog, and would be for a while, and there was no escaping it. An amnesia-like fog that made them ignorant to everything else except the other and the other's touch, and their love. It was love, both of them were sure. It had returned, and it's stronger than ever.

Stanley, now with a bit of a clearer mind, pulled Y/N against his chest and carried her to the hotel bed. He undressed her slowly, completely, and kissed every aching and non-aching part of her skin tenderly. And it made Y/N cry.

She was crying because she now felt what she had missed all her life. Who she had missed, and what he would have given her if they had never separated. What they could have had together, what they could have felt together. How their lives would be much, much better if only they had never parted.

Each kiss he gave her was worth two tears from her. And when Stanley realised she wasn't in fact moaning or whimpering, but that she was crying, he kissed her tears, which meant kissing her cheeks, her lips, her neck, her hair. And he kissed every part. Which only made her cry more.

She cried about the time they had missed, the opportunities left unused, the kisses given to strangers. Everything they could have had.

Stanley held her and, as they both lay there, now completely bare and exposed to the cold, horrible hotel air that reeked of sterilisation, looked in her eyes. He softly pet her hair and held the hand of hers that lay between them on the bed with his other hand. And they kept their eye contact strong, they were sure they didn't blink once.

Even as teenagers, they could stare into each other's eyes for hours without getting bored or getting distracted. They could do nothing else but that. Not many people can. But it was one of their… things. And it was still strong now, almost three decades later.

The moon and the street lamps shone onto the two lovers in the hotel room, to someone's eyes they'd look like a perfect painting in this light. These two lovers in a perfectly-made bed that was hardly touched. They were surrounded by the smell fo sex, the sound of sobs, the glistening of tears and sweat. By the words they want to say to each other, the longing and what-ifs that they want to voice. But they don't want to ruin this perfect moment, and the next, and the next. Y/N and Stanley want to cherish this complete silence and calm, before the storm hits them and hits this perfect atmosphere.

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