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nocturnalstarlet · 3 months

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— 𝑾𝑯𝑶 𝑰 𝑾𝑹𝑰𝑻𝑬 𝑭𝑶𝑹 🪐

— 𝑨 𝑪𝑶𝑼𝑹𝑻 𝑶𝑭 𝑻𝑯𝑹𝑶𝑵𝑬𝑺 𝑨𝑵𝑫 𝑹𝑶𝑺𝑬𝑺

🪐 ›› cassian, azriel, nesta archeron, elain archeron, feyre archeron, lucien vanserra, eris vanserra.

ships i'd write for: cassian x nesta , elain x azriel , gwyn x azriel , and elain x lucien.

— 𝑩𝑩𝑪 𝑴𝑼𝑺𝑲𝑬𝑻𝑬𝑬𝑹𝑺

🪐 ›› aramis, porthos.

— 𝑩𝑹𝑰𝑫𝑮𝑬𝑹𝑻𝑶𝑵

🪐 ›› anthony bridgerton, daphne bridgerton, benedict bridgerton, colin bridgerton, king george iii.

— 𝑪𝑨𝑹𝑨𝑽𝑨𝑳 / 𝑶𝑵𝑪𝑬 𝑼𝑷𝑶𝑵 𝑨 𝑩𝑹𝑶𝑲𝑬𝑵 𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑹𝑻

🪐 ›› legend, julien santos, scarlett dragna, donatella dragna, jacks/prince of hearts.

— 𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑹𝑴𝑬𝑫

🪐 ›› phoebe halliwell, paige matthews, wyatt halliwell, chris halliwell.

— 𝑫𝑨𝑰𝑺𝒀 𝑱𝑶𝑵𝑬𝑺 𝑨𝑵𝑫 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑺𝑰𝑿

🪐 ›› warren rojas, eddie roundtree, graham dunne, camila alvarez, karen sirko, daisy jones, simone jackson.

— 𝑭𝑨𝑺𝑻 𝑨𝑵𝑫 𝑭𝑼𝑹𝑰𝑶𝑼𝑺

🪐 ›› dominic toretto, brian o'conner, letty ortiz, mia toretto, roman pearce, deckard shaw, tej parker, han lue.

ships i'd write for: dom x letty.

— 𝑮𝑨𝑴𝑬 𝑶𝑭 𝑻𝑯𝑹𝑶𝑵𝑬𝑺 / 𝑯𝑶𝑼𝑺𝑬 𝑶𝑭 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑫𝑹𝑨𝑮𝑶𝑵

🪐 ›› tormund giantsbane, podrick payne, sansa stark, robb stark, jorah mormont, theon greyjoy, sandor clegane, samwell tarly, rhaegar targaryen, daenerys targaryen.

🪐 ›› aemond targaryen, jacaerys velaryon, alicent hightower, daemon targaryen.

— 𝑯𝑨𝑹𝑹𝒀 𝑷𝑶𝑻𝑻𝑬𝑹

🪐 ›› ron weasley, hermione granger, dean thomas, blaise zabini, luna lovegood, neville longbottom, cedric diggory, viktor krum.

🪐 ›› james potter, lily evans, narcissa black, regulus black, andromeda black, sirius black, remus lupin, frank longbottom, peter pettigrew, lucius malfoy, pandora lovegood, alice fortescue, marlene mckinnon, mary macdonald, emmeline vance, dorcas meadows.

🪐 ›› theseus scammander

🪐 ›› teddy lupin

🪐 ›› godrick gryffindor, rowena ravenclaw, helga hufflepuff, salazar slytherin

**a very big fuck you to jkr. this account is HEAVILY anti jkr and always will be. **while some of the fics for these characters may occur during their time at hogwarts, the characters will be assumed to be 18+ regardless of fic type.

— 𝑰𝑻

🪐 ›› richie tozier, stanley uris, ben hascom, mike hanlon.

**none of my writing for these characters will take place in the first film. i may instead do college!fics for this. everything else will come from when they're adults.

— 𝑴𝑨𝑹𝑽𝑬𝑳 / 𝑿-𝑴𝑬𝑵

🪐 ›› steve rogers, james buchanan "bucky" barnes, natasha romanoff, yelena belova, wanda maximoff, pietro maximoff, thor odinson, loki laufeyson, bruce banner, druig.

🪐 ›› john allerdyce (pyro), bobby drake (iceman), peter rasputin (colossus), scott summers (cyclops), alex summers (havoc), anna marie lebeau (rogue), logan howlett (wolverine), ororo munroe (storm), peter maximoff (quicksilver), charles xavier, erik lehnsherr.

— 𝑶𝑼𝑻𝑬𝑹 𝑩𝑨𝑵𝑲𝑺

🪐 ›› pope heyward, sarah cameron, kiara carrera, jj maybank, john b routledge, rafe cameron, topper thornton.

— 𝑷𝑬𝑨𝑲𝒀 𝑩𝑳𝑰𝑵𝑫𝑬𝑹𝑺

🪐 ›› thomas shelby, arthur shelby, john shelby, michael gray, finn shelby.

— 𝑺𝑨𝑳𝑻𝑩𝑼𝑹𝑵

🪐 ›› felix catton, venetia catton, farleigh start.

— 𝑺𝑪𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑴

🪐 ›› tara carpenter, sam carpenter, chad meeks-martin, mindy meeks-martin, ethan landry.

— 𝑺𝑯𝑨𝑻𝑻𝑬𝑹 𝑴𝑬

🪐 ›› aaron warner, kenji kishimoto, juliette ferrars.

— 𝑻𝑬𝑬𝑵 𝑾𝑶𝑳𝑭

🪐 ›› derek hale, peter hale, stiles stilinski, isaac lahey, lydia martin, scott mccall.

— 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑯𝑼𝑵𝑮𝑬𝑹 𝑮𝑨𝑴𝑬𝑺

🪐 ›› finnick odair, haymitch abernathy.

ships i'd write for: finnick x annie

— 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑽𝑨𝑴𝑷𝑰𝑹𝑬 𝑫𝑰𝑨𝑹𝑰𝑬𝑺 𝑼𝑵𝑰𝑽𝑬𝑹𝑺𝑬

🪐 ›› elijah mikaelson, marcel gerard, klaus mikaelson, kol mikaelson, rebekah mikaelson, bonnie bennett, enzo st. john, stefan salvatore, damon salvatore, jeremy gilbert, caroline forbes, elena gilbert.

— 𝑻𝑹𝑼𝑬 𝑩𝑳𝑶𝑶𝑫

🪐 ›› eric northman, jason stackhouse, alcide herveaux , jessica hamby.

— 𝑻𝑾𝑰𝑳𝑰𝑮𝑯𝑻

🪐 ›› charlie swan, carlisle cullen, emmett cullen, rosalie hale, alice cullen, sam uley, paul lahote, jared cameron.

— 𝑾𝑬𝑫𝑵𝑬𝑺𝑫𝑨𝒀 / 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑨𝑫𝑫𝑨𝑴𝑺 𝑭𝑨𝑴𝑰𝑳𝒀

🪐 ›› morticia frump, gomez addams, wednesday addams, enid sinclair, bianca barclay.

ships i'd write for: morticia x gomez.

— 𝑴𝑰𝑺𝑪𝑬𝑳𝑳𝑨𝑵𝑬𝑶𝑼𝑺

🪐 ›› ransom drysdale (knives out), andy barber (defending jacob), killian jones (ounce upon a time).

don't see what you're looking for? feel free to ask if i know a fandom/ship/character and if am willing to write what you're looking for!!

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aceditwrites · 9 months

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The Master List (hi)

Master List:

Hi, i’m ace. I got really bored and i need an excuse to procrastinate on my personal writing projects so i decided to start an account dedicated to just writing. So like, you can request almost anything (limits below) like if you want like a platonic fic just ask! If you want the reader to be the kid or sibling of the character, i’ll do it! You can be as specific or as vague as you want, eventually i’ll get some prompts for help but for now, you gotta wing it. Also I’ll write for like any fandom even if i dont know it, i’ll try my hardest but i’d prefer if you stuck to the list below. Anyways yeah. (also pfp is nyurei on picrew)

So basic rules,

If youre an nsfw account dni, also i will not write smut regardless of age given i’m a minor

No incest

I’m currently only doing x readers, that might change in the future but for now no ocs or ships

I’d prefer if you didn’t request x reader with an actual person, (ex. Instead of asking for a Maya Hawke x reader, ask for a Robin Buckley x reader)

If you know a character’s sexuality and you dont fit, dont ask (ex. Nico is gay, I will not write Nico x fem! reader)

Please specify pronouns when requesting

Please keep in mind i’m not a professional writer

Please use common sense and dont do something that makes me have to update the rules

Anyways, so fandoms i’ll write for

It 2017/2019: Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak, Stanley Uris, Bill Denbrough, Beverly Marsh, Ben Hanscom, Mike Hanlon (specify if you want 2017 or 2019)

Percy Jackson: Percy Jackson, Annabeth Chase, Grover Underwood, Piper McLean, Jason Grace, Leo Valdez, Hazel Levesque, Frank Zhang, Connor Stoll, Travis Stoll, Nico Di Angelo, Will Solace

Harry Potter: Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy, Cedric Diggory, Ginny Weasley, Luna Lovegood, Fred Wealey, George Weasley, Tom Riddle

Supernatural: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Castiel, Gabriel, Lucifer, Kevin Tran, Crowley, Charlie Bradbury, Rowena (does girly have a last name 💀), Jack Kline (platonic only)

South park (platonic only for everyone, they’re children): Kyle Broflovski, Stan Marsh, Eric Cartman, Kenny McCormick, Butters Scotch, Tolkien Black (or is it Token? I swear its always spelled different), Timmy, Craig Tucker, Tweek Tweak, Jimmy Valmer, Wendy Testaburger

Jurassic World Camp Cretaceous: Darius Bowman (i’d prefer if we kept it platonic with him but romance is ok i guess), Kenji Kon, Brooklyn, Yasmina Fadoula, Sammy Guiterrez, Ben Pincus,

Marvel: Tony Stark (platonic only, so sorry) Steve Rodger, Bucky Barnes, Natasha Romanoff, Wanda Maximoff, Peter Peter, Ned Leeds, M.J, Harley Keener, Thor Odinson, Loki Odinson, Shuri, T'Challa, Okoye

The Owl House: Luz Noceda, Willow Park, Amity Blight, Edric Blight, Emira Blight, Gus Porter, Eda Clawthorne, Lilith Clawthorn, Hooty (platonic preferred, but if you freaky like that go ahead and ask for romance, see what happens), Raine Whispers

The Umbrella Academy: Luther, Diego, Alison, Klaus, Five (would he date a kid or an adult cause-), Ben (he can be alive or yall could be ghosts), Vanya

Idk how any of this works but uh have fun

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arctichotch · 3 years

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omg can you do adult stan and the reader going bird watching and Stan sees his favorite bird and it’s just disgustingly cute 🥺 i love that he and i share a love of bird watching ❤️

i don't really know what this is and it's really short (also i know absolutely nothing about birdwatching so this is pretty vague)

i love the idea of stan taking you out birdwatching. he's never really found someone in his life who shared the same passion, in fact it was quite the opposite. he was always ridiculed and made feel bad for his interest in birds so he's delighted when you ask to go along with him.

you go to his favourite place to birdwatch, the place where he claims "all the best birds go to and you only deserve the best"

he gives you a spare pair of binoculars and takes you out on a nice, sunny sunday. and honestly you love it. the quietness and serenity of relaxing and pointing out different birds is amazing.

but most of all you love to watch stan's passion for it. the way his eyes light up. his quiet whispers of "look at that one" or the many facts about different kinds of birds he can recite from the top of his head. he's just so damn cute.

it quickly becomes a staple in your relationship. so much so that stan proposes on one of your future trips. lets just say you didn't actually get to see many birds that day as your cries of happiness scares them away.

#stanley uris x reader #adult stan #it 2019 #it chapter two #losers club #fic #my writing #stanley uris #adult stan x reader #2019!stanley uris #it chapter 2 x reader #it

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thoughtfullyyoungduck · 3 years

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I can’t keep my eyes of off you

A/N: this is my secret santa story for @liilaac, I really hope you enjoy it! Let me know what you think!

Summary: You can’t have a wedding without a ring, is his reasoning behind this, and so the first stop on his; propose to Eddie Kaspbrak and make that man his for the rest of his life- list, is a jeweler store. Or; Richie Tozier has no clue how to propose to Eddie, but that won’t stop him from doing it anyway. Featuring Stanley Uris.

Read it on AO3

#My writing #reddie fic #reddie #reddie fluff #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrack #richie and eddie #adult Richie #eddie x richie #eddie kaspbrak imagine #richie tozier imagine #stanley uris #adult stanley uris #stan x richie #in a best friend way #I really hope you like it Lily!

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anxiouslymalicious · 4 years

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Losers Club Plus One Part 11

A Richie Tozier x daughter!reader series

Read the previous part here or go here for the full series masterlist!

A/N: Hiya there! It’s getting serious, we have reached the last hour of the movie! I am actually growing a little sad knowing that this long ass journey is going to end soon, but I also am kind of proud? Anyway, let’s enjoy this. My hometown is being put under lockdown, by the way, so I might feel quite bored quite often and throw out more content!

This part is about 3.2k words, just fyi. I hope you enjoy and, as always, feedback, comments and reblogs are very much appreciated! I hope you enjoy!

“Yeah, no, you’re staying out here.” Richie said as he noticed that his daughter was trying to follow the group. He was fumbling with something in his pockets, trying to find the car keys.

“What? No. There’s no way I’m letting you guys do this on your own.” Y/n replied, crossing her arms before her chest. Her cheeks grew warm with anger.

“There’s no way I’m letting you come with us.” Richie countered; stance equally determined.

“Richie…” Eddie started, only to be interrupted by Richie himself.

“No, don’t ‘Richie’ me. She’s not coming with us. Y/N is staying in the car where it’s safe.”

“Statistically speaking, it would be safer for her to come with us than to stay by herself in the car.” Eddie looked at Y/N, then over to the cars parked beside the street.

“I’ve told you before, it is not safe for us to split up. Y/N doesn’t even know how to drive in case she needs to get away, there is nothing for her to defend herself with once that fucking clown comes out. Staying in the car would literally be a death trap for her.” Eddie tried to argue with Richie who now looked twisted. The rest of the Losers looked on as they watched the heated discussion, not wanting to interfere. Each of them wanted the best and the best only for the littlest Loser, but what really was the best for her in that moment? Their minds travelled back to Stanley, how they saw him on the ground, his version of IT biting at his face, perhaps only mere moments from killing Stan. Did they really want that for Y/N? Did they want to risk that much? However, that first time, no one died. No matter how close. They got out of there once before, who said they couldn’t do that a second time?

“Eat a dick, Eddie.” Richie mumbled before averting his gaze to look at his daughter. The determination in her eyes was uncanny. Richie knew there was no stopping her.

“You won’t ever leave my side. You’ll stay with one of the Losers at all times. If I tell you to run and leave, you will. And don’t try to be a hero down there. And if you feel like anything’s too much for you, tell us and we’re gonna figure something out.”

Y/N nodded along to her father’s rules. She had to bite her lip to keep her tears at bay. Tears of uncertainty. No one knew what was truly ahead of them and there were no guessing games either. The Losers just hoped that at least one of them would see the daylight again.

Mike went back to the car to fetch the few flashlights he had thrown into the car before hurrying to catch up with Bill. He then proceeded to give them out to the Losers Plus One. One after another got their lights. Everyone except for Stanley. But in some way, Stan was still there. Maybe it was just a silly way of grief and remembering for Mike as he, with a heavy heart and deep sigh, gave the last flashlight to Y/N, but it seemed like the girl was Stan’s filler. Like there was a reason she managed to convince Richie to take her with him from LA back to Derry, into the mess they were met with.

Y/N shivered when she really stepped into the building. It was like every last drop of happiness had been washed away, like she had been drained of her emotions, drained of what made her human. A cold sweat broke out on her skin and she felt her heart hammering painfully against her ribcage. IT could attack them at any given moment. IT could come for them whenever. IT could be right around the corner.

Out in Derry, Y/N had felt like she was running around with a target on her head. She was in a town she didn’t know, surrounded by people she didn’t know. Everyone could have been Pennywise in disguise, as far as she knew. But now, they had entered IT’s home. The place IT knew better than anyone else. The place IT resided and killed children in. The odds of beating IT, whatever IT even was, were slim and Y/N had figured out just that. Basically, all of them were a delicious meal, presenting itself on a plate for IT.

Y/N followed the adult Losers she had grown to trust around the house, staying especially close to Richie. But she couldn’t help but feel like Eddie was keeping an extra close eye on her. Just in case.

Wood creaked below their feet, a low hum echoed through the room with the wind whistling through the cracks and broken windows. Suddenly, a new sound caught her attention. A sound that didn’t fit the picture. A sound that sounded so foreign, it was terrifying.

“What the fuck?” Y/N breathed out as she took a step back, never having seen anything like that before. But none of the Losers seemed to be weirded out by some black lava randomly seeping out of the wood, followed by a hissing sound of burning wood. Each one of the Losers seemed tense, but a strange sense of calmness accompanied their characters. Y/N felt lost. Because she felt distanced from the Losers. Not so much physically, but more mentally.

“Well, I love what he’s doing with the place.” Richie said as he watched the mass spread.

“Peep-peep, Richie.” Beverly said, voice unimpressed with the humour Richie still tried to bring up, despite the seriousness of the situation. Y/N felt a shiver running down her spine, shaking through her body, as she unconsciously tried to get closer to the Losers. Nothing she saw was right. It wasn’t natural, or so it seemed, and it made her head swim. She felt like she was thrown straight into a horror movie and was made to live there, fight her way through. It was terrifying as she didn’t know what would happen next, where she had to go, but the worst was the unknowingness of the moment, the uncertainty if any of them would ever see the sunlight again. If any of their lungs would ever be filled with the fresh, unused and clean air they were met with outside. If any of them would even be able to breathe still after this night or if they would all lose their lives.

“I’ve got to keep that one in mind. Maybe that’ll shut him up on the flight back home.” Y/N replied, hoping to ease some of her own tension the way her father always does. Successfully so, with the chuckle that escaped Ben’s lips, she did feel a little lighter on her feet. She felt some of the hopelessness melting away. She felt a little warmth in her chest.

Bill walked before the rest of the group. Slowly at first, but he seemed to be impatient, every step he took was quicker than the last. Y/N watched him go, not knowing if what he did was something conscious, something he himself wanted to do, if he knew where to go or if it was IT somehow forcing him. How, she didn’t know, but Y/N was sure IT had more tricks up his clown-costume sleeve than any of them would like to know.

Floorboards creaked beneath their feet. Dust swirled in the air, straining Y/N’s airways. The air was thick with what Y/N felt might be the smell of decay, old blood, maybe even faeces. She had no idea what she had yet to encounter, but the smell that tested her gag reflexes already didn’t give her much hope of a fair game.

For a second, she let her mind wander. She wondered how many people had been taken by IT. How many children had been led to their death with promises meant to be broken and false hopes of things they would never receive? Y/N let her mind wander, far enough to not notice that they had split into two groups, one of them distancing themselves from the other quite rapidly.

Ben suddenly groaned. Throaty, filled with pain. Heads whipped around. Before Y/N was even able to comprehend what was happening, Bev had already called out to him, a worried yell of his name. Something about the way her voice carried itself made her sound like she was already expecting the worst. And she wasn’t wrong with that.

Y/N looked around, head frantically whipping from side to side, only being able to locate Bev, Ben and Mike. Yelling echoed through the abandoned house, she heard Bill yelling for them, she heard Eddie and her father. Fists banging against a door. And she saw Ben sinking to his knees. His hands pressed to his stomach, trying to find a source of pain. Y/N rushed towards Ben, holding onto his right arm alongside Beverly, who felt panic take over as she watched how Ben’s white shirt gained blood red stains.

Somewhere down the hall, Bill was yelling for Ben. Y/N heard their voices clear and loudly and she felt how her feelings were twisted. She felt the need to run to the other Losers, stick with her father and the person who might as well become her stepfather, but she didn’t want to let Ben down. She couldn’t bring herself to leave him to his suffering.

Mike joined the two women as Ben lowered himself to the ground, screams of agony leaving his lips, shaking the Losers to their core, breaking their hearts and making their stomachs churn. Ben pulled up his shirt, revealing streaks of blood, open wounds as something none of them could see dragged along his stomach, leaving deep cuts.

Bev yelled as Ben watched his stomach being torn apart with wild eyes, too many bad memories, too much fear bubbling up in him. He was reminded of the pure hatred, the insanity in Bowers’ eyes as he cut into Ben’s stomach that one fateful summer, the cuts that pained him so much physically, but even more mentally. The wound that would taunt him until he left the town and far beyond that. A scar that never really let him go.

Y/N cringed as she watched, before she jumped up, looking for the clown in a panicked daze. She didn’t notice how she was running around, looking for something that might give away his location. It happened naturally, her instincts took over. But if there was one thing Y/N knew about the clown by now, it was that it had a preference when it came to attacks. It would use their fears against them. Now she was left to figure out what could scare Ben.

She turned to look at Ben, the carvings on his stomach now read ‘HOME AT LA’, new lines appearing on Ben’s stomach with every second. Y/N’s eyes finally landed on the mirror. She saw their huddled up figures. In her state, she almost didn’t notice the white face added to the group.

“The mirror!” Y/N yelled out as she watched IT happily torture Ben, the words on his stomach being completed as IT was ready to move for the kill. The kill IT had been dreaming of, the thing IT had waited 27 years for. The first out of eight kills that would finally give it the satisfaction and peace IT had craved for years. Ever since those kids came across IT for the first time.

Neither Y/N nor Bev really thought as they acted. Both acted on instinct, taking the first hard object they could find and smashing it against the mirror. It shattered into what looked and felt like a million pieces as the girls tried to shield their faces from the sharp shards flying around the room, whipping around to look at Ben.

The pent up adrenaline left their bodies quickly, a heavy weight being lifted off their chests as they spotted Ben’s now free-of-cuts abdomen and neck. Y/N’s relief, however, was quick to dissipate though, as the screams of the three men that walked ahead reached her ears.

She ran faster than she thought her legs could carry her towards what her ears told her was the source of the screams until she was met with closed doors.

“Dad! DAD!” Y/N yelled as she hammered against the door with her fists. Tears blurred her vision, a sharp pain shooting from her balled fists through her whole arm as she tried to get into the room, trying to get to her father who was screaming for help.

“Richie!” Mike yelled, followed by Ben and Bev as the trio ran after the girl who now threw herself against the door in hopes of getting it to open up. The wood finally gave in. Eddie was standing in a corner. Shaking his head. Face contorted with fear. Bill was screaming. For a knife. Richie was begging for help. A knife. Where? She saw it. Glistening in the low light.

Suddenly, the spider-head trying to kill Richie stopped its movement. Bill looked up in shock. Y/N held the knife tightly in her hands, the blade pushed into the head. Her knuckles were white, fingers laced tightly around the blade like it was the only thing keeping her alive.

In a fit of rage, she pulled the knife out of the head only to ram it back in. Over and over and over again. Five, six, seven times. She wasn’t met with any resistance, nothing to stop her from letting out the anger and frustration and hatred she felt towards the thing that would forever have an impact on her life.

It wasn’t until Ben grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her back that she stopped. If it was up to Y/N, she would have continued to stab the thing until it wasn’t more than a pile of mush on the ground. Despite the nausea and the guilt that filled her, ate away at her. Despite the dirty feeling on her skin as she tried to end a life. Despite the burning in her brain and in her heart, both of them yelling at her to stop. But she couldn’t bring herself to do just that. She couldn’t stop. She couldn’t rest. Not until revenge had been served. Not until justice found its way to make things right again. Even though she knew that things wouldn’t be right again. What she saw wasn’t something to forget. What they had said and done wasn’t something to shrug off.

“Y/N, it’s enough. Richie’s alright.” Ben whispered to the girl in his arms as he pulled her away and tried to push her head in his chest, hoping to shield her sight. From what exactly, Ben wasn’t sure. Maybe he didn’t want to have her see IT get away with what it had done. Maybe he wanted her to just focus on him to calm down. Or maybe he was scared that some of the anger she was able to let out would rebound onto Richie and Ben hoped to prevent that. All he knew was that it felt right to hug his Loser-niece tightly as the rest of the group tried to catch their breath.

“Is everybody okay?” Bev asked as she dropped to her knees beside Richie who was coughing and sputtering with Bill still leaning over him. She pulled off her jacket to wipe whatever the slime was that IT had left on Richie’s face away.

Bill was now the one to feel the rage. Storming towards Eddie, he only had one thing in his mind. Anger burned hot inside his mind and his chest as he pushed Eddie back to the wall.

“He could have f-f-f-fucking died, man. You k-know that, right?” Bill screeched at Eddie, voice coarse with disbelief. Eddie’s gaze travelled from Bill, Big Bill, who now seemed more intimidating than ever, over Richie who was being cared for by Bev, to Y/N, still in Ben’s arms, as he and Mike tried to provide comfort and maybe just the smallest sense of calmness. She was shaking, shivering, as she watched her father, seemingly zoned out with a few stray tears on her cheeks.

“Georgie’s dead. The k-kid’s dead. Stan-Stanley’s dead. Y-you want Richie too?” Bill couldn’t help himself as he screamed, the fear settling in him, he felt intimidated and overwhelmed by the situation he found himself in. None of them wanted to be back there, none of them wanted to face IT again, but Bill was the one who had the hardest time. He was the cause of their misery. He was the cause of Georgie’s death. And Stan’s. And the kid’s. He couldn’t bear the guilt of another Loser, one of the people closest to him, to lose their life for his cause. And especially not the only Loser who had a child of their own to take care of.

As Bill kept screaming the words ‘You want Richie too?’, all Eddie could do was shake his head, eyes not meeting Bill’s as he whispered his reply. “I don’t. I don’t want Richie too. I don’t, I don’t.”

When Bill’s shouting ceased, the room filled with heavy breaths and quiet, the occasional sound of a floorboard creaking as Y/N crawled towards her father, embracing him tightly. Finally, Eddie managed to look at Bill, properly look at him.

“Please don’t be mad, Bill.” Eddie was close to begging as he felt hot tears fill his eyes to the brim, threatening to spill over at any given moment. “I was just scared.”

And at that moment, they all noticed. Eddie’s eyes were still the same. It was Eddie Spaghetti Bill was yelling at. Not Edward Kaspbrak, the successful Risk Analyser. It was Big Bill yelling, not Bill Denbrough, the bestselling author.

“That- that’s what he w-w-wants, right?” Bill asked, realisation dawning in him, the Losers and their Plus One. Y/N watched Eddie and Bill with cold eyes, a broken heart. She almost felt betrayed by Eddie. The man who had told her that he loved her father, had feelings for him in the least, who couldn’t step up and save him when no one else was available. She almost lost the only person who had stayed with her through everything, the man who felt like home. And she couldn’t forget. Hurt was deeply implanted in her chest and in her head as Richie held onto her for dear life.

“Don’t- don’t give it to him.” Bill finished, taking his hands off Eddie who now sobbed, almost not more than a quiet gasp, as he realised that his lack of actions could have led to the death of his love. And it pained him, even more, to know that it had taken him more than 27 years and he still didn’t have the balls to even think of Richie as more than a crush. Deep down, Eddie longed to be in Richie’s warm embrace, he cherished every joke Richie cracked, no matter how insulting, maybe even especially when insulting. Richie made his heart flutter, his palms sweaty. And even the thought of losing Richie to death scared Eddie so much that his body went frigid, ice cold. He froze. He was petrified. But he couldn’t tell. Not Richie, not Y/N. Not now. Not when they both looked at him, disbelief clear in their faces, eyes cold with hatred.

Only, they weren’t. But Eddie didn’t know.

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lethimrunsonia · 4 years

Text

Eddie is a physical therapist (yeah guess where I am right now) and he thinks this will be a normal new patient appointment.

The dude is...a mess. Eddie is blinded by the man’s very orange over shirt and very neon green shorts. Eddie has to dampen the intense need to just kill him on the spot. He looks at Bill like “get a load of this guy” and Bill raises an eyebrow, gives, what was this guy’s name, oh, Richard, a once over and then winks at Eddie.

If eyerolls could kill, he swears to the god Bill would be, like, SUPER dead.

Cause Richard is HOT, even in his disgusting clothes. And his very much fucked up leg.

Richard waves his fingers in some form of hello and also telegraphs ‘I am weird’, and hucks his backpack onto the chair by the massage table.

“Hey Doc!” He says brightly, Eddie’s heart jumping at his beautiful grin.

“Not a Doctor, but nice to meet you, Richard.” Be professional, Eddie, he chides himself, for Christ sakes this dude is a patient.

Richard gives him a once over and waggles his eyebrows, “I don’t go by Richard. Call me Richie, the only Dick I have is saved for you.”

Oh god, he’s an idiot, Eddie muses, scrunching up his face at Richie’s stupid voice that is Not Cute.

He can hear Bill giggling over his shoulder and ignores him.

“Sure, sure, Richie, got it. So, what did you do to your leg?” He chooses to be a professional. He’s got a masters, okay?

Richie winces and looks put out. “Umm...okay, so I’m not a totally freak, okay, but—“ Richie inhales as if to absorb courage and Eddie is Very Sorry he asked. “I might have, possibly, tried to break into my friends house to prank him, and he could have, maybe, um...broke my leg.”

Eddie blinks at him. He fucking did what? “What prank?”

“Dump water on him and his bed,” Richie answers like that’s a normal thing adults do, “but he had his boyfriend over and I got them both and Stan kinda, like, panicked.”

“You’re an idiot,” Eddie finds his mouth saying, without his permission. God damn it.

But Richie just lights up and flops onto the massage table. “That’s Mr. King Idiot to you, Sir Edward.”

#reddie fic #reddie #adult reddie #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #it ch 2 #it ch 1 #it chapter one #it chapter two #the damn clown movie #bill denbrough #stanley uris #kels speakeasy

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readinglikechickensoup · 4 years

Note

poly losers club + nsfw (stan centric perhaps?) pls

Hi there! I really, uh, ran with this prompt. You can find it here: A03 Link

I hope you enjoy it

Words: 2502Rating: Explicit Pairing: Polyamorous Losers Club (Aged up to older 20-somethings) Summary: Stanley Uris is worn down and stressed out from his job. One day, he comes home to a surprise.Warnings: Light BDSM, Shameless Smut, Light BDSM, Light Bondage, Lingerie, Blow Jobs, Cunnilingus, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Anal Play

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reddie-ao3feed · 4 months

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Kissing each other dumb

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/D12YFCO by se_lai There are two kids kissing each other dumb in the street. It (capital i) had to use words to expose your shameful secrets. The Deadlights do not. Within them, everything is exposed for you to see, to know, that your most shameful fears will become true. The two kids from before are yelling at each other. Richie feels his gaze, his mind lured to them. The taller one is shrieking because the other threw water from the dirty fountain nearby at him. Richie recognizes a very old history in their play. His eyes itch with tears again. It’s been less than twenty four hours since I remembered why the fuck I’ve spent a whole life being miserable and now one of the seven reasons is gone forever and the other is on its way, too, Richie thinks deliriously. I wasn’t good before Derry 2.0 and there is no way I’ll ever be good again. ~ A fix-it. Words: 9228, Chapters: 3/10, Language: English Fandoms: IT - Stephen King, IT (Movies - Muschietti) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: M/M Characters: Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak, Bill Denbrough, Ben Hanscom, Beverly Marsh, Mike Hanlon, Stanley Uris Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak & Richie Tozier, The Losers Club/The Losers Club (IT) Additional Tags: Slow Burn, Falling In Love, Love Confessions, Friendship, Adult Losers Club (IT), Losers Club (IT) Friendship, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Medical Procedures, Medical Trauma, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, References to Drugs, None is used during this fic I swear, Fix-It, Gay Richie Tozier, Richie Tozier is a Mess, Soft Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak Lives, Bisexual Eddie Kaspbrak, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Soft Eddie Kaspbrak, Soft Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/D12YFCO

#reddie #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #it 2017 #it 2019 #fic rec #reddie fic red #stephen king it

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dreamdaydreamer · 4 years

Text

27 Years [Adult Stan Uris]

A/n: This is over 2000 words, I got carried away, sorry about that! But anyway, hope you enjoy. Requests are open! :)

***

Twenty-two years. That’s how long it’d been since you’d last seen Stanley Uris. He left Derry in 1994, just like you, to go to university. You promised to keep in touch, to see each other as often as possible, you were in love after all. But for some reason that had never happened. At first you would call each other as often as possible. Then it slowly became less and less. Until one day you just stopped speaking. Stopped meeting up. Stopped everything.

Soon after you finished your degree, you ended up back in Derry, having to move back there when your father died and deciding to stay. Until then, you’d forgotten all about Stanley Uris, it was only when you had gone back to Derry that you started to remember. Started to remember him, and the days you would spend together, bird watching, playing board games, studying. You had a lot in common with him, at the time you had believed that you were soulmates, but you didn’t believe that anymore. You didn’t even believe in soulmates anymore.

You’d tried to pursue some sort of happiness in Derry. You dated a few guys, no one special though, no one like Stan. You never fell in love with anyone like you had been when you’d been in love with him. So instead you settled by yourself, opening a little book shop in town, quite popular with the locals. You lead a quiet life, and for the meantime, you were happy with that. You attempted to push Stan to the back of your mind and, although you really did try, it proved very difficult, seeming to be able to relate anything to memories of him.

The autumn season had started to come into its own. The weather cooling down from the blistering summer, breezes whistling through town although it still wasn’t cool enough to wear a coat, orange and gold leaves scattered the path.

It was just a routine day in your simple life, stocking shelves and serving the few people who came in. It wasn’t really the shopping season yet, most of your customers came closer to Christmas, burdened with the rush to buy presents for others. And so today you mainly sat behind the counter, reading a copy of one of your own books, sighing to yourself from time to time when the reading strained your eyes too much and you had to put the book down, boredom overtaking you once again.

Stan made his way through the Derry streets, reminiscing about all the time he’d spent there as a kid. When Mike had first called Stan, memories of Derry had come rushing back to him. Mostly the Losers Club, what they had faced together, as well as the good memories they had made over the years. And then he remembered you. He wondered how he could have ever forgotten about you. You were his first love, his only love. Quite possibly his soulmate, Stan realised this was probably why he had never married over the past twenty-two years. He had tried to settle down, to be in a serious relationship, but he never could. The people he had dated were nice but there was always something that wasn’t quite right, Stan could never put his finger on it. Until now.

Throughout his short time back in Derry, Stan had wondered whether you were here. He knew that you’d gone to university, and he knew that you had bigger dreams outside of Derry, but maybe, just maybe you were here. Maybe he would get to see you again.

Derry hadn’t changed much since the last time Stan had been there. The shops were mostly the same. The antique shop, the pharmacy, the ice cream shop, all stood exactly where they had done twenty-seven years ago. It was like Derry was its own time capsule. History trapped in modernity. The buildings looked more derelict than Stan could remember, but the signs and decorations stayed the same, paint peeled off them now. There was something new though. A bookshop. A bookshop that stood on the corner of the street, the most recent shop to open judging by the appearance of it. The oak wood hadn’t faded, the windows were sparkling clean and the signs hadn’t started to peel off. Stan had to double-take when he saw the name of the shop. Y/n’s Corner. His mind instantly thought of you, you had always loved books. He crossed the road, moving to stand in front of the window, peering in. At first, he couldn’t see anything, and his heart sank. Of course, you wouldn’t be here, you were probably out living your best life, successful, married maybe, a family. The thought chewed Stan like a dog would a bone, sinking its teeth into his flesh. It’s not that Stan wouldn’t be happy for you, he would, he would just wish that it would have been him you had married, him that you’d chosen to settle down with. As he flipped the idea over and over in his mind, he caught a glimpse of someone at the counter of the shop, and with a closer look, he knew it was you. Even though it had been so long since you’d seen each other, he recognised you immediately, you were still the same beauty he had been in love with twenty-two years ago. You disappeared into the back of the shop as Stan entered, the little bell above the door chiming.

“I’ll be out in a minute!” God, Stan thought, even your voice is the same. Lilting, and made Stan’s heartbeat twice as fast. In a few moments, he would be face to face with you, after all this time. What would he say to you? He had too much to say, not sure where to even start. He wanted to apologise for being away for so long, for forgetting, he wanted to tell you that he’d missed you, even if he hadn’t remembered you, there was always a part of him missing, and that it was you, he wanted to tell you how much he loved, loves, you, and how, even now, after all of this time, his heart beats only for you. How when he hears your voice, a smile makes its way onto his face subconsciously, how when he sees your face, he can hear the blood pumping round his body, he becomes light-headed and his knees turn weak, just like they had done when he saw you for the first time. He feels like a teenager again, feelings all jumbled and messy but it’s perfect and he feels liberated for the first time in years. He’s planned a speech in his head of everything he wants to say and how he wants to say it, maybe it will be just him spilling out his thoughts and feelings into one big sentence, the words tumbling out of him before he’s able to pull them back into his mouth. But they’ll be there, out in the open, no matter how they get there, then you’ll know. You’ll know how much he loves you. But how will you react? What if you hate him? What if you resent him because he forgot about you? What if you don’t love him anymore? Stan wouldn’t know what to do. What would be the point in carrying on when all he’s lived for is gone. You’re the reason he forced himself to come back to Derry, to face this clown, the hope that he will finally be able to live the life he’d always wanted too, with you. Even so, he’s ready to tell you all that he feels, no matter the outcome.

But then suddenly you’re stood in front of him. And everything he had planned to say, everything he wanted to tell you, runs away from him so fast that there’s no point chasing after it. Neither of you say anything, there was no reason too. Everything that the both of you wanted to say hung in the air between you, hidden in the irises of your eyes, pushed out in the short breaths. You couldn’t believe that he was there, in front of you, and your face paled, like you were seeing his ghost. He’s looking at you like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen in his life. And to him, you are. You’re every star in the sky, every pearl in the sea, every flower on the land. You’re every breezy spring day and romantic winter night wrapped up into one, emitting warmth and light and love with every movement. He’s looking at you in awe, he’s making you feel like he used too twenty-two years ago. He’s making you feel loved.

Twenty-two years ago, you had been in love. Twenty-two years later, you were still in love. You wondered whether it was Derry, everything here always stayed the same, maybe that meant the people within it too, maybe the reason why you still loved him was because Derry had frozen you in time. Still ageing, but always the same. But you also wondered whether it was just Stan. Stan. The man you’d loved for so long simply because of who he was. Maybe you were still in love with him because it was too hard to fall out of love with a man like that.

Then he smiles at you shyly, almost like he’s embarrassed, and in that moment, he looks younger, much younger. Like when you first met and he was looking up at you from the floor of the school corridor, after you’d shouted at Henry Bowers for pulling Stan’s Kippah from his curls. Any thought that the man in front of you isn’t Stan, that he’s some kind of imposter, fades away from you as realisation sets in. It is him. For some reason the thought shocks you more than his presence, after believing for so long that you would never see him again, the fact that he’s here, before you, makes you violently shiver and you wrap your arms around yourself as a tear slips down your face. You don’t know why you’re crying; you’re feeling too many emotions at once. Elation, love, relief, but also sadness too, sad that you’d missed out on so much time with him.

Stan doesn’t know why you’re crying either, so he panics, maybe he shouldn’t have come back. Maybe you really do hate him. He’s hurt, of course, but he only wants the best for you, only wants you to be happy.

“I…I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have come. You must hate me, and I understand, I mean I…” Stan continues to ramble, listing all of the reasons why he should leave, and then he is. He is leaving and you’re pulled out of your trance. You can’t let him leave again. Stan makes his way to the door, but he’s stopped by a small tug on his woolly cardigan, when he turns, he sees you stood there, tears streaming down your face as you continue to cling to him.

“Please don’t leave me again, Stan.” You push yourself into his arms, burying your face into his chest and crying even harder than before. Instinctively, his arms come to wrap around you as he immerses himself in your scent. Your hair still smells heavenly and your scent takes him back to when he was young, warming him from the inside out and sending tingles down his spine, a feeling of safety blooming in his stomach. Stan doesn’t think he’s ever been as happy as he is right now, knowing that you’ve missed him as much as he’s missed you.

The past twenty-two years Stan had been frightened, frightened of his past. And sure, he has good reason, he was traumatised by a child-killing clown. He almost nearly skipped out on returning to Derry altogether, not sure whether he was brave enough to face his fears again, but now he’s glad that he did. Now, Stan’s more motivated than ever to kill IT, so that he can have the life he’d always wanted, with the person he’d dreamt about could never quite remember.

You and Stan spent the next hour catching up in the back room of your shop. It served as a mini kitchen, small but practical, with a little breakfast table pushed up to the wall. You both sat, sipping from your warm mugs, as your hands intertwined on the tabletop, neither one of you wanted to let go now that you had found each other. The way that you both talked, it was like you’d never been apart. Stan tensed up after you asked what he was doing back in Derry.

“It’s…a long story. A story I don’t think you would believe. Hell, I don’t think I believe it myself.” You nodded, in slight disappointment, Stan had never been the type to keep anything from you. “I want to tell you, I do,” Stan rushes out, “I just don’t want you to think I’m crazy!”

“You know I would never think that about you, Stan.” You try to reassure him, but he wouldn’t crack.

“When this is all over,” he starts, unsure that it ever would be over, “I’ll tell you, I promise.” You nod slightly. “I need to go. Duty calls.” A small chuckle escapes the both of you before Stan pulls himself out of the chair, reluctantly slipping his hand out of yours. He reaches the door, but then turns to look at you, a soft smile on his face.

“I’ll come back, if that’s alright with you?”

“Be careful, Stan.” You couldn’t explain it, but somehow you knew that this thing, whatever it was, was serious. Dangerous, even. “Promise me I’ll see you soon?”

Stan’s heart flutters, you did want to see him again. He nods,

“Very soon. I promise.”

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stanthemanstan · 5 years

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𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑺𝒌𝒚 𝑰𝒔 𝒂 𝑺𝒂𝒇𝒆 𝑯𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒏 ❧ 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑰

A/N: thank you guys for a hundred followers! Sorry about the delay between the uploads, I haven’t been writing a lot lately and I’m still working on the chapter after this. I figured that posting this would be a good way to celebrate a hundred! Hope you enjoy the series, and remember that I’m always open to feedback, questions, etc :)

Word count: 1.4K

Series masterpost

It was twenty-seven years after your final encounter with It when you were called. It was funny, since, like you were of the passing of time, you were unaware of who was on the other line. It took a minute of recollection to realize what the Derry, ME on the phone screen meant to you, and who this man was saying he was. Then it all began to flood back.

“Hello?”

“Is this (Y/N) (L/N)?” you heard on the other line.

“Yes, who is this?”

“It’s Mike. Mike Hanlon, from Derry.”

Derry. The word was so familiar. So strange at the tip of your tongue, yet so… mnemonic. It was the name of your hometown.

“Oh my goodness… Mike, hi, it’s so good to talk to you again.”

It was the place that had seemed to escape your mind for almost twenty years. Where you grew up. Went to school. And, through odd circumstances, formed your strongest relationships and deepest fears. It also wasn’t just the odd place, you thought, that was flitting back into your memories; it was also the people.

“I agree. However, the subject at hand isn’t exactly the most lighthearted.”

It was also the events.

“Hold on… This couldn’t possibly be about—”

The dreaded summer of ’89.

“I hate to say it, but it is. It has returned, (Y/N). You need to come back home.”

The vivid image of that horrid clown pierced your mind for the first time in years. Those were the thoughts that were burned into your brain for the rest of your high school career, only fading when you escaped Derry to attend college.

“I’ll— I’ll make plans to leave as soon as possible, Mike. You’ve called the others? Are they gonna come?”

You remembered your friends, the Losers, the misfits that banded together. There was stuttering Bill Denbrough. Richie “Trashmouth” Tozier. Beverly Marsh. Eddie Kaspbrak the hypochondriac. Ben Hanscom.

“I’ve called almost everyone by now.”

And there was Stanley Uris, the boy who was there for it all.

He was your love and your fear— it was terrifying to realize. While the illusion of the tarantula towering over you was scary enough to your thirteen-year-old self, the thought that came after was much more shattering. The thought of losing him.

“…Do you have Stanley’s number?”

Even though you were deemed too young to have known what love was at the time, you knew that Stanley was too important to you to possibly lose. And that was exactly what you were shown. Being vulnerable, especially after Its assault on him, it was heartbreaking for you to see two of him.

One had begged for you to be okay, telling you that he was there for you, that he would never, ever, ever leave you, that you were everything to him. His voice was hoarse from his previous panicking, screaming, sobbing, and it was ever so desperate when he called out to you. He had blood and sweat and tears staining his face that was bent with fear and worry. He had fresh wounds on the sides of his face from where he was bitten by that horribly warped lady.

The other begged for you to save him, telling you to stop hurting him, that you were killing him, that he would be gone because of you. His voice was hard with disappointment and accusation, sharp enough to pierce your heart and break it permanently. He had blood dried in smears across his face and more of it leaking and sputtering from his lips as he berated you. He had the palest, most lifeless skin, and his eyes were even more so. This impression —Its impression— on your feeble mind was almost emotionally fatal.

The confusion and paranoia lasted a fair amount of time since then.

Completely unwilling to recover and clean up by yourself that day, you accompanied Stan home. You worried that if you weren’t there with him, he would be gone and you would see that deathly vision in his place.

You insisted on helping him disinfect his wounds, even as your hands were trembling, and he eventually had to take care of the matter himself. It was a bit of a predicament for the both of you. You did, however, manage to secure the bandages around his head when he finished. He then cleaned up your scratches for you. It was slightly difficult with one hand, for you were tightly gripping his other one in your own, but he was innovative and concentrated. You just needed to be sure he was beside you.

“Yes, I do. It’s four-oh-four…”

When the oath was made at the Barrens, everyone received a cut on their palm as a token of their promise. You winced as the glass shard pierced your skin, immediately cradling your other hand beneath the cut one. Soon, though, your bloodied hand gripped Stan’s.

You had felt him squeeze your hand, lightly and mindfully enough so that it wouldn’t hurt; a sign of comfort. You gazed at him with such a deep look of admiration in your eyes. The sight of his bandages made your heart ache.

On your right, you held Mike’s hand, and everyone together formed a circle. The eight of you stayed there for a few silent moments before letting your hands fall back to your sides. Your hold on Stan’s was more prolonged.

“Okay, thank you. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Stan had glanced at you and then looked up at Bill, who was across from him. I gotta go. Your breath hitched and your heart dropped. I hate you, he told Bill. One by one, everyone cracked grins and laughed. Your smile was a weak echo of the others’. You were nervous.

When the laughter died down, Stan caught your eye. I’ll see you later, he said softly. He began walking, setting out towards home, but he also let himself linger a moment or two longer.

Yeah, same. Bye, guys, you said with a wave to the group. While you didn’t want to leave everyone so abruptly, you couldn’t be without Stan after what It had shown you. The Losers parted ways with the two of you.

“Bye, (Y/N). Be seeing you tomorrow. Travel safe.” Mike ended the call.

When you met up with Stan —you had to rush only a little since he had gotten a head start— it was oddly silent at first. You began overthinking. Does he notice how I’m practically following him around like a lost puppy? I’m probably annoying him really badly. Does he know what I saw? Why I’m so afraid?

You looked between your cell phone and the notepad that you had scrawled a cursory phone number onto. Stan’s number. You hadn’t even realized that your heart was throbbing until then.

Stan, I’m sorry, you told him on your walk. I just— I can’t be alone right now, after everything that’s happened. I should probably be going home, but…

With the foreboding weight of your fear on your shoulders and with shaky hands, you began punching in the numbers. Four… zero… four…

It’s okay, he said quietly in return. He didn’t prod or ask for an explanation, but it did seem like he already knew. However, at that moment, you had a tacit agreement not to ask each other what you had seen.

The dial tone sounded, echoing through your head. One ring.

You remembered spending that day at his house, practically locked in his room. Neither of you wanted to talk about what had happened —not then, at least— but it was evident that you both needed comfort and protection from it.

Two rings.

You made small talk as you sat about a foot apart on his neatly made bed. You learned more about each other. That foot was reduced to inches. You confided in each other. Those inches were reduced to closeness. You cried to each other. That closeness became contact— shoulder to shoulder. You consoled each other. That contact became an embrace.

Three rings.

You spent that night in his arms, needing the constant reassurance that he would be there. That he was real. That he was okay. That he still believed in you. There was always a raging mental battle going on— you could never tell if he was there or just another twisted illusion.

The line connected.

Was he there?

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brittle-bone-gabe · 4 years

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Two Opposites, But Two Losers: Chapter One - Two Months in

Chapter Two, Chapter Three,

Summary: Eddie Kaspbrak is a first-year medical student trying to start off on the right foot, but being up all night to study and pull through on his assignments increases his need for coffee; this is where he meets his “favorite” new barista, Richie Tozier: an art student with bad habits. (I will specify a possible trigger in the chapter titles if it calls for one).

Pairings: Eddie x Richie, Ben x Beverly, Stan x Patty, Bill x Audra, Bill x Mike

Read on Ao3: Here

Transitioning from high school to college wasn’t the easiest thing, fresh outta high school, most students would assume that it would be okay to stack classes upon classes. No, college would never be that easy; especially while stacking classes on top of a job. Studying seemed next to impossible, having to alter your schedule to make sure you can finish the classes for the day while making it to your shift on time… Nothing about being in college was easy. If anybody knew that it would be Eddie Kaspbrak. Eddie’s had been attending Southern Valley University in Maine for six-years now, studying hard, attending every class… Well, that seemed to pay off, as Eddie was now in the university’s medical school program.

Needless to say Eddie didn’t do any partying at all during his past years in college, he couldn’t even imagine going to a party; alcohol, drugs… no, that wasn’t his scene at all. Hell, even in high school he didn’t do any partying. Not only wouldn’t his mother let him go anywhere she didn’t approve of, he was afraid of the germs and all the diseases his mother warned him about. So, no. Eddie didn’t have any desire to go to any parties and fuck up his life. Besides, with the extra classes he picked up in high school that counted towards college credits, giving him a slight head start in getting his associate degree, there was no time.

Being considered for the med school program in his first year of college was the best news Eddie had ever received in his life. Granted, he didn’t have many people to tell, as he was considered a loser in high school so he didn’t have many friends, but he did tell his mother. Sonia was… not thrilled about that. Ever since her son told her that he wanted to be a doctor she flipped out; trying to manipulate him into changing his mind, but once Eddie had his sights set on something it wasn’t going to be easy to change his mind. Sonia would get on his case, asking if he decided to change his major, even going as far as trying to call the university before he even started attending to force them to change it, but thankfully the school wouldn’t allow that, since Eddie had to be the one to make that choice.

Eddie tried extremely hard to stay home while he started college, but, of course, his mother made it a living hell. She had still treated him like he was in middle school even; setting a bedtime, checking his laptop and phone for anything to get him in trouble, insisted on driving him to school even though Eddie had his own car, hell, if they go out shopping Sonia insists that Eddie keep a hand on the cart so he wouldn’t get lost. It was Eddie’s last straw when Sonia went through his laptop, basically grounding him because he was listening to podcasts that she didn’t approve of. He had snatched the laptop away from her, stomped up to his room, packed his belongings and left without saying a word to his mother, who, the whole time, was trying to manipulate him into staying home. I’m sick, Eddie-Bear, you wouldn’t leave me while I’m sick, would you? When that didn’t work… How would you feel if I end up in the hospital on life support because I didn’t have anyone here to take care of me! How would you feel, Edward? You’re going to kill your mother! The psychological manipulation was hard for Eddie to overcome, but he had to remind himself she did this all the time and she seemed to be fine.

For an entire month Eddie more or less lived in his car and the universities gym showers. It wasn’t easy, but he didn’t have enough money from his job to get a place of his own, he didn’t really have many friends he knew well enough to couch hop or move in with. Eddie was stuck between a rock and a hard place. Either live in his car, or with a woman who psychology abused him. The car was the best option. Unfortunately the dorms couldn’t take anybody in in the middle of the year, the deadline had been weeks before the semester started… oh well, Eddie would live.

Thankfully, one day while browsing a classified advertisement website, as Eddie had begun to do religiously, someone named Bill had posted about how he and his current roommate needed a third roommate since their old one bailed on them. Eddie didn’t really know Bill or his current roommate Mike, but the rent was reasonable, they rented a house near campus, he would have his own room.

After five years of living with Bill Benbrough and Mike Hanlon, it was safe to say they were great friends.

-----

Being in his first year of med school, all nighters weren’t uncommon, in fact, it seemed to be a natural occurrence for Eddie. Yeah, as someone whose job it was going to be to tell people that getting a full night's sleep would be important to their health, it didn’t count for college students. As far as he was concerned, coffee and all nighters were going to be a natural part of life for most people in their twenties.

Eddie was hunched over the desk in his room, his head resting on the opened textbook in front of him, snoring lightly, still holding onto the mechanical pencil that he had been using to take notes. Scattered across his desk were large, empty paper coffee cups from the small coffee shop on campus called Harvest Flavor. That place was a god send. Their coffee was better than that overpriced coffee company, pretty cheap too. All of those cups of coffee had helped Eddie stay up until four in the morning, but like clockwork, he crashed as soon as the clock struck four.

He snorted himself awake, his eyes wide staring at the pencil that was still in his hand. Did I fall asleep? When did I do that? He sat up, his back cracking in the process, keeping his eyes closed for a moment since the light in his room was still on and burning his eyes. He dropped the pencil onto his textbook, using the palm of his hands to rub his sore, tired eyes. Eddie looked at his Apple Watch, it was a little after six in the morning. Great. Only two hours of sleep, and his anatomy class didn’t start until eight-thirty, so obviously he had some time to kill.

When would Eddie break this habit of staying up all night? Maybe when he felt like he was doing adequate in his classes, mainly cell biology. Eddie couldn’t help but feel like he was falling behind in his classes, but none more than cell biology… Basically, if Hell were a class it would be that one. Just this past week alone he’s been staying up just to study extra hard for that one class, but no matter how much studying he did it didn’t feel like it was enough. If this is how his first two months of med school were currently going he couldn’t possibly imagine how hard the rest of the program was going to be.

No… no, he could do this. He needed to do this. Not only because this was his dream career, but because he really wanted to piss off his mother. He couldn’t wait for the day he graduated medical school just to show her his MD. That was the pettiness that was chugging Eddie along.

Grumbling, Eddie thought that maybe it would be a good idea to study a bit of his anatomy class before going in today. However, there would be no way he would be able to keep himself awake like this. No, he needed some coffee to push him through the rest of the morning. Eddie checked his phone, hoping that Harvest would be open this early. They opened at five-thirty in the morning, thank God. That was lowkey the only coffee place Eddie liked.

Knowing that Bill and Mike were still sleeping and also needed to get up soon, Eddie quietly moved around the house to get ready to head out. He grabbed the clothes he had set out the night before before he started studying and went to take a quick shower. He was great at tip toeing around… until he accidentally knocked over every possible bottle in the shower. Eddie had stayed still, his soapy hands still tangled in his hair, staring down wide eyes at the bottles that laid on the tub floor. It had sounded like a bomb had gone off, and Eddie held his breath, hoping that that didn’t wake anybody up. He let out a sigh, rinsing the shampoo out of his hair, finishing up his shower.

Eddie dressed in an oversized blue knit sweater, black jeans cuffed up over his ankles, with his black Converses. It was a simple outfit, but Eddie was still tired despite taking a shower, which normally woke him up, but it didn’t seem to do the trick today. Yup, he needed coffee and he needed it now.

Before leaving the house, he grabbed his phone, wallet, and keys, even though he wasn’t planning on driving to Harvest. Nah, it was spring, the weather was starting to warm up, and since Harvest was literally right on campus near the house. No need to waste gas going there. He had thought about bringing his backpack and textbooks with him to Harvest, but he decided he wasn’t going to stay long; just get his coffee and leave.

Eddie started walking down the sidewalk, his hands shoved into his jean pockets. Along the way there were a couple of balls of snow left behind from the previous snow fall from a week ago that had refused to melt into the ground. Of course, Eddie couldn’t help but kick the snow, sending snow and small bits of ice across the ground. The sun was just barely peeking up over the trees, which were in the progress of growing leafs back. Spring certainly was Eddie’s favorite season; it gave him a sense of new beginnings, something he certainly felt when he started college and escaped from his hypochondriac of a mother.

Approaching the familiar, old building of Harvest, Eddie couldn’t help but notice a tall guy with shaggy, curly brown hair, and glasses. He was leaning up the side of the building, holding a cigarette to his lips, taking a puff before dropping his arm to his side, blowing out the smoke. Eddie couldn’t help but roll his eyes, he thought that smoking was the most disgusting thing a person could do to their bodies. He tried ignoring him as he was walking past him, but Eddie could literally feel the man’s eyes on him, as if he was watching him go inside. Eddie had his hand on the door handle about to go in, but since the guy was looking at him…

“Y’know…” Eddie started, meeting the guys gaze, who had the cigarette up to his lips again, “that shit’s back for you, right?”

The guy had a slight confused look on his face for a split second before giving Eddie a shit-eating grin. He flicked his cigarette into the street before straightening his posture, folding his arms over his chest.

“Good, maybe I’ll die faster,” the man said, still not letting that grin go.

Honestly? Eddie wasn’t expecting that response, he was expecting for the guy to flip him off or just tell him to fuck off. Eddie blinked a few times before going inside the coffee shop. He knew that a lot of the humor around college was the oh, I hope I die, jokes, that didn’t mean he understood it, or could tell when someone was actually joking. This guy, however, it was clear he was joking. What an asshole.

Once inside, Eddie noticed that nobody was there; no customers sitting at the many seats, nobody behind the counter, just Eddie and the quiet music playing over the radio. It was actually peaceful. While waiting, Eddie took out his phone from his back pocket, debating on whether or not if he should text his roommates Bill and Mike to see if they wanted any coffee while he was here, knowing they loved the place as much as he did, especially since Eddie and Mike came here almost every late afternoon to grab a coffee. Eh, he decided against texting them, assuming that they were still sleeping and probably didn’t want to be bothered.

When Eddie looked up he saw the same guy from outside now leaning behind the counter. He was now wearing a stupid dark brown apron with a namebadge on his left said that read Richie T.. Great… he worked here. It was as though Richie didn’t drop that stupid grin from the moment he flashed it outside to this moment and for some reason it really pissed Eddie off.

“Nice to see you again after all these years,” Richie said playfully, standing up straight when Eddie came up to the counter while pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.

“You washed your hands, right?” Eddie couldn’t help but ask, it was like the hypochondriac he had worked so hard to destroy broke through for just a moment.

Richie scoffed, rolling his eyes. “What are you, my boss?” There was a small silence between Richie and Eddie, he snorted and rolled his eyes. “Yes, I washed my hands.” He held up his hands, turning them over as if that was going to prove his hands were squeaky clean. Richie’s stupid grin was replaced with a smile, still looking at Eddie. “What can I get the cutest morning bird I’ve seen all week?”

Eddie wasn’t expecting that, like, at all. Was he flirting? Or was he being nice? ...Or was he making fun of him? Oh, to be able to reach over the counter and punch this tall bastard in the arm. Instead, Eddie just glared at him, as if he was saying that he wasn’t going to fall for Richie’s joke.

“If I’m the cutest morning bird you’ve seen all week then you must not get out much,” Eddie shook his head slightly, tsking, “that’s so sad.”

Well, now it was Richie’s turn to be stunned. Normally people didn’t fire back at him whenever he made his stupid jokes or comments, other people would just roll their eyes and tell him to shut up. Richie would be a liar if he said he didn’t like the fact that this small guy in front of him could throw back the shade just as quickly as Richie threw them. Thinking about it, Richie almost had an issue thinking of a comeback.

“Short, small, and grumpy? Where have you been all my life?” Richie asked, pressing his face on his hands as his elbows were leaning on the counter. He waited a couple of seconds before he laughed when it was quite obvious that he couldn’t come back with anything. ‘Whatdoya want to order?” He finally asked, standing back up.

“Can I get a Latte Macchiato triple espresso.”

Richie quickly punched the order in on the computerized register in front of him, the screen reflecting in his glasses.

“Name?” Richie asked even before Eddie managed to pull out his wallet.

Eddie looked up at him, blinking as he was still tired and for some reason had an issue processing what Richie asked him.

“What?”

“Name…? For… for the order.”

“Oh, sorry.”

“Hmm… I think that’s too long of a name to fit on the cup, but I can tr-”

“My name’s Eddie,” he quickly interrupted him before Richie could finish his stupid joke, handing him his card so he could swipe it on the register. He put the card back in his wallet when Richie handed it back to him, he slipped a dollar into the tip jar that was sitting on the counter.

“Cute morning bird made me rich!” Richie said loudly as he began writing Eddie’s name on the large sized cup, a smirk on his face as he turned his back to Eddie to begin making the espresso.

“Shut up, Richie!” A woman could be heard from the backroom of the kitchen. She walked past the hole in the wall that connected the front line to the kitchen, opening the door and made her way over to the register. Richie laughed as the red, short haired woman punched in on the registers time clock. Sorry, she mouthed to Eddie, rolling her eyes as she turned back around to go back in the kitchen. Before she left, she made sure to pinch Richie’s side.

Richie turned around, the espresso in one hand, while checking the Apple watch on his other wrist. “You know this shit’s bad for you, right?” He asked playfully, handing the paper cup over to Eddie, who had a slight pout as he took it from him. “Why do you need such a huge coffee in the morning? Early shift?”

As much as Eddie wanted to come back with something, he held his tongue, as it sounded like Richie was actually trying to make a real conversation with him.

“Nope,” he answered simply, deciding quickly that he would stay here to drink his espresso rather than go back home. He took a seat as far away from Richie as possible, but Richie was still pressing on.

“What? You got class or something?” He didn’t wait for Eddie to answer, almost as if his mouth was on a motor. “Yeah, I have a class after my shift, totally not looking forward to it. Didn’t study for my test at all.”

Richie was talking so fast that Eddie could barely process what he had just said.

“Uh… no,” Eddie finally answered, turning in his seat to look at Richie, who was leaning against the counter again, “yeah. Class later. All nighter.” He took a sip of his drink as Richie opened his mouth again.

“Not worth it, my dude, trust me.”

“You are such a liar,” the woman standing in the kitchen at the hole in the wall. Richie’s eyes went wide, surprised to hear Beverly talk shit about him while they had a customer in here, normally she saved it for when nobody was inside, “you spend your nights at parties. Not worth it. Shut up.”

Richie closed the window between the kitchen and the front end.

“Aaannywaaays…”

“All nighters are basically part of my degree.”

Richie had opened his mouth to ask Eddie what exactly what degree was so important that he had to have all nighters all the damn time. Before he could ask, a group of college kids walked in. Lowkey, Eddie was happy that Richie was distracted, nobody should be that energetic this early in the morning.

Now that there were other people in Harvest, Richie wasn’t as talkative as he originally was, now only talking to the woman who was in the back through the hole in the wall. Which was fine with Eddie, he was desperately trying to wake up, the espresso was certainly helping. He felt more awake and alert, enough to go back home to study for his class in a couple of hours. More than anything, Eddie was happy that Richie’s attention was off of him, he didn’t particularly like any attention on him, it made him feel awkward and like he needed to keep everyone entertained.

Eddie swirled the paper cup in his hand, making sure that there wasn’t any espresso left before standing up. He made sure his table was cleared before throwing the cup away in the trash can by the front door. Once again, he could feel Richie’s eyes on him, and he was expecting him to say something to him before he left. Honestly, he wished he wouldn’t, the group of people were sitting on the other side of the coffee shop, but the place was small enough where they could hear whatever words were to come out of Richie’s mouth.

He quickly tried to get out the door before Richie said anything, but he unfortunately wasn’t quick enough…

“Bye, Morning Bird!” Richie said loudly, waving with a huge annoying smile on his face.

Eddie didn’t even turn around to look at him, he hunched his shoulders together as he was quite embarrassed since he knew the group was now looking at him.

“Bye…” he mumbled before heading out the door, his face red as he did, almost tripping on the way out.

“What’s your problem, Trashmouth?” Bev asked her best friend, leaning out the hole in the wall.

“Hm?” He asked, turning around to look at her, adjusting his glasses. “What?”

“Why were you picking on him?”

Normally Richie was pretty chill with the customers. Especially if they were regulars, then he would basically treat them as if they were guests in his own home. Surprisingly, Richie had a great customer service attitude, so that’s why Bev was slightly shocked over how he was treating Eddie.

“I always act like that towards customers,” Richie reminded her, sitting on the counter, facing her as he swung his legs back and forth so his heels lightly bumped into the counter.

“Nah, nah, nah… That was… different.”

Richie couldn’t help but roll his eyes.“To be fair, my sweet Bev, he started it.”

“How the fuck did he start it?”

“Alright, check it. I was minding my own business, right? Smoking outside on break.”

“We don’t get breaks.”

“Shush. As I was saying, I was smoking, right? He comes up to me and is like… you know that shit’s bad for you, right?” Richie did his best Eddie impression, but it didn’t land, only causing Bev her turn to roll her eyes.

She snorted. “I mean… he’s right.”

“You smoke more than I do!”

She flipped him off before going back to get the treats out of the oven before they burned.

-----

By the time Eddie got home it was almost six-forty-five, the entire walk home he was pondering about everything that just happened at Harvest. He’s been going there all the time and never, not once, has he ever seen Richie or the woman with red hair working there before. Well… to be fair, he supposed, he never went so early in the morning, only in the late afternoons. Richie… What a fucking asshole. He talked too much. Too goddamn much.

Walking inside the house, Eddie had expected the living room lights to still be off, as he wasn’t holding his breath for anyone to be awake yet. Surprise, surprise, when Eddie entered, he saw Bill sitting on the couch with his laptop in his lap, looking focused on whatever it was on his screen. Strange… Bill was never up this early. If Eddie knew that he was awake he would’ve brought him home a coffee.

“What are you doing?” Eddie asked, dropping his keys on the long table in front of the front door, slipping off his shoes, “isn’t your class at ten?”

“I fo-forgot to do my homework last night,” Bill answered, not taking his eyes off of his laptop screen, “w-why are you awake?”

Bill’s stutter was getting a lot better than it used to be when Eddie first met him almost five-years ago. Normally it got worse whenever he was anxious, sometimes the stutter slipped naturally. Apparently it was awful when he was a kid and made talking somewhat impossible to the point where Bill didn’t even want to open his mouth. Occasionally he went to a speech therapist, but Bill’s convinced it didn’t do too much.

“I was up all night, I needed coffee.”

“Did you go to Harvest without me? Fuck you.” Bill looked over at Eddie and flipped him off, Eddie returned it as he moved into the living room, plopping into the recliner chair that was deemed his chair.

“The guy working was a dick though. Very loud,” Eddie started, rocking the chair with his feet, leaning back, his eyes suddenly feeling heavy.

“You think everyone is a dick though…”

Eddie didn’t say anything in response, he just hummed as he leaned the chair all the way back. He was just going to shut his eyes for just a minute. Well, it turned out there was no studying getting done before class this morning.

#my fic #reddie #richie tozier #Adult Reddie #Eddie Kaspbrak #Ben Hanscom #Bev Marsh #Beverly Marsh #Stanley Uris #Bill Denbrought #Mike Hanlon #it #it chapter 2 #it chapter two #College AU #it fanfiction #It fanfic

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srclovers · 5 years

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If someone doesn't write a reddie fic with Richie getting caught by the paparazzi giving a piggy back ride to his "close pal" (Eddie duh) then what's the point of all of this

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har-rison-s · 4 years

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heaven: 17

never let her go

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: Well hell to the low to you guys! I've missed being on here, and I'm so fucking glad that I'm back to writing and I actually have nothing else to do, really, except write. Oh, and fight for justice online, get to packing and moving and go to work. But other than that, I'm free as of right now. I came back to the document for this fic, and turns out I have material enough to post 2 whole chapters in a row. So, let's go. I'm glad you're all still here and I welcome every new-comer with hugs and kisses! So, happy quarantine reading and stay safe! Don't you ever forget - #BlackLivesMatter!

A/N: Also, quick note: if you're uncomfortable with me posting another chapter of Heaven or posting any writings at all, please don't hesitate to let me know. Writing, especially during times like these, and when I don't get any positive income from the real world or social media, writing is what helps me, and I think reading fics means you dive into another world, sometimes a better world, and you can live another life in them and feel better; I also know writing has helped some people fall asleep. That's why I'm posting. Again, if that makes you uncomfortable/you think I'm injust with posting, please let me know!

warnings: shorter than usual, water, over-thinking (lots)

word count: 2.2k

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IT masterlist

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A/N: Where are my more gifs and pics of Andy Bean rights huh??

gif credit goes to owner, which isn't me!

Oh, is clean water good. Clean, warm, soapy water. Better than sex, she even dares to think. She smiles to herself at the thought. Stanley looks at her, a soft question in his eyes. Not the sex she has with him. She shakes her head, and then rests it against his wet chest. The shower’s water streams down onto them, warm and welcoming, warm and soothing, warm and healing. It collects their hair into dark, thick locks. The shower’s floor shines with water that is now filthy from all the dirt on their bodies.

Bill collected all their dirty clothing and went to wash it in the hotel’s washing machines. He’d get to shower the last, but he didn’t mind. All of them using water at once wouldn’t be useful, either, but that he’ll leave it to their concern. Mike offered to use his washing machine at the Library, but since he lives quite far from the Derry Inn, they all decided to pass this suggestion.

Y/N’s palms are flat against Stanley’s bare back. It’s littered with birthmarks all over, Y/N discovers when she feels small, almost unnoticeable bumps under her fingers. Stanley, instead, opens the shampoo bottle the hotel offers and squeezes half of it out into his hand. He then runs his shampoo-y hands into Y/N’s hair, against her scalp. She hums. Stanley moves the shampoo into her hair, massaging circles into her scalp. She smiles softly at the gesture.

He does the same to his own hair, and Y/N chuckles at how weird he looks with his hair slicked back. “Reminds me of your Bar Mitzvah hair.” She says and Stanley gives her an airy chuckle in response. He remembers his mom’s effort and frustration into gelling his unbending acorn curls down neatly to his head.

“That was horrible.”

“No, no, that was a statement.” She corrects him and they both laugh. Her arms around him, hands on his back and his arms around her waist, hands interlocked to keep her intact in his embrace, they look up dreamily at each other. The water frustrates their eyes a small bit, making them blink more than usual.

Gazing into each other’s eyes transmits more emotions between them than they could muster to say in the same amount of time. Words really are hard to find to say all that Stanley could say to Y/N, about how much she means to him, about how he can’t breathe without her, how he needs her, how he wants to cherish her and love her for the rest of his life, and how he wishes they never parted. He also wants to say a big thank you for giving his strength, courage and self-belief back simply by talking, by being with him. He could not have gotten into this shower-bathtub, for example, without her help, without her words. Let alone Derry or Neibolt House.

Y/N would like to tell Stanley how grateful she is for his love, and that it is he who loves her. She would want to let him know that he’s the most important person in her life, that he means the most to her, and that she’d do anything to turn back time and relive her—their both’s—life differently, together. Happy.

How happy, how much more happier they’d be if things had turned out differently. And she wants to tell him how grateful she is for him to be here, right now, as well as tell him how privileged she is to love him, and to have him love her back, how privileged it is to hold his hand and look into his eyes.

But to not waste any emotional and physical material, they suffice with a simple—

“I love you.” She tells him in a quiet whisper. It almost drowns with the water in the dark drain of the sewer pipes. She leans up to kiss his lips. She can taste the coffee he drank earlier still, and the water. She smiles, and she kisses him again. And again. She chases his lips with hers, her hands pushing against him slowly, not at once, but slowly, begging. She kisses him, and she almost melts.

Stanley moves her rogue hair strands out of her face, and holds her cheek while looking into her eyes. His orbs move back and forth only the slightest. A corner of his lips raises ever so slightly. “I love you.” He assures her and kisses her again. He then kisses her forehead and pulls her into an embrace against his chest. Even his chest hairs have flattened down from the water, she can barely feel them against her cheek. She closes her eyes, and so does Stanley.

Something about the way he holds her, something about the way he shuts his eyes when he does. Thoughts of what is to come creep into his mind now, despite how badly he wants them not to. What if this is the last time I have her to myself? Selfish to think of her like that, but… She’s the most beautiful angel I’ve met in my life. I want to spend my entire life with her, I want to give her what I did not for the twenty years spent apart. What if, when I go back home, my mind will be changed about her? What if we’ll forget each other again, like last time?

But what if you don’t go home, Stanley? Maybe go to her home, or go home with her. Not your home, but one that would belong to you both. And Patty? What of her? Do I not call her or visit her? Do I just leave her in the dark? I can’t do that to her. After all we’ve been through, after loving one another for so long… After being married, and happily at that, after her trusting me so much…

Do you still love Patty as you did before Mike called you? As you did when she helped you pack clothes and essentials for this trip? How will you tell her you’ve met the love of your life, the love of your childhood again and made love to her in another city, another state? Another place, or void, completely foreign and strange to Patty and her whole life, and how she knows life in general? It will break her. Would it be better if you didn’t tell her at all? No, no, I can’t leave her wondering in the dark.

What if you love them both? What do you do then? Marry Y/N and live together as three married people? That’s complete craziness, Stanley. You can’t do that. But if I can’t choose… If I can’t choose between the two women I love most, what do I do then? Leave them both and live alone? Or should I choose? Which option would be better for everyone involved? Do I choose to be selfish and choose Y/N or Patty for the rest of my life? That’s only fair to me, and I can’t stand by that. But…

Stanley can’t live without Y/N. Maybe it’s just what he thinks now because he’s met her again, but then again—there wouldn’t be these feelings if there wasn’t an old cause for them, old roots grow out of something, not nothing. And they do have roots. Childhood. High school. Before college. The first year of college. Then it faded away… But these feelings are still here, they’re still real, present and true. They’re as intense as before, if not more. It is beyond love and belonging and craving, it is far more than they as mortal humans can understand, can know that they feel. He can only give her the tip of the iceberg that is his whole love, emotions and feelings for him. He can only do so much with his human mind and body.

But Patty… He loves Patty so much. They’ve been married for more than ten years, and found solace in each other. They loved each other even when they could not get children, they loved each other when they’ve woken up to a sour day, they loved each other even when they drive each other nuts (which is rare in their earthly, calm marriage). What fun have they had in these happy, peaceful years… Stanley would not trade it for the world. Ah, then and there, maybe. But here and now...

He doesn’t know. He can’t decide.

But somehow… The marriage ring that lays in the drawer of this hotel room’s nightstand, it feels like an anchor. And it feels old, as well, as strange as it sounds. Old, as if Stanley had lived in a past life with that ring and the person who carries the other ring, the rigs a promise to be man and wife until death do them part.

But it’s not death that will do them part. The happy, peaceful years he lived with Patty were simply years and time that fed on forgetfulness of crucial things such as childhood, and friends, and dreams that little kid Stanley Uris wanted to achieve in life. They were years of tunnel vision, of ignorance, but not his own. His self-consciousness’ ignorance caused by the magical curse IT laid upon Stanley and his friends once they left the town of Derry.

It’s best to think about it on the flight home, not now, about choosing the best option. Shower, heal and spend time with her. Heal together. You’re both still here, so right now you might as well use it selfishly, while you have that. Stanley opens his eyes and looks down at Y/N. The water runs in his eyes a few times. She moves back to look back at him, feeling a slight change in his position. She blinks, because the water gets into her eyes, as well, but she smiles. Stanley does as well, and then he reaches behind her to turn off the shower stream.

Naturally, they both shiver out of loss of warm water, but then hurry out of the bath-shower to wrap themselves in towels. Stanley helps Y/N not fall over on the slippery surface, what with having as many fears as she does. It’s a bath, after all, and he feels they’ll always frighten him a little bit from now on.

They both reach for the towels hanging on the heating pipes, and Y/N hums at the contact with her towel. It’s better than nice, and it’s better than perfect. She feels like falling asleep in this towel. Surprisingly soft for hotel towels.

They dry their hair out as much as they can with single towels, and then wrap the towels around their bodies. Non-verbally, maybe telepathically, they decide to wash their teeth. Stanley uses his own toothbrush and paste, but Y/N uses the tools their hotel provides—in the rush to catch the first flight to Maine she forgot to pack her tooth essentials. How silly and unhygienic of her, you might think. Not in her situation, not this time. Tooth cleaning essentials were really the smallest and most unimportant thing then.

Nor Stanley, nor Y/N speak much. There’s silence between them, tense but peaceful. So many questions nag at both their minds, so many questions they want to ask each other, mostly many uncomfortable questions. Answers to them would be too painful, too frustrating and hard to deal with, in general. Hence the questions are not asked. Many things they’d like to say to each other, but neither of them want to make this a book or movie scene, understand, with confrontation and dramatics. They just… They just really want to be here. They want to live and breathe and move without any complications or heavy-weighing anchors.

Y/N steals a shirt from Stanley, he’s already used it in this trip, and he had folded it to pack into his bag. He snatched his hand after her, but she’d already pulled the shirt over her head and naked breasts and stomach, too late for him to get it back. He looks at her, defeated, and she gives him the tip of her tongue sticking out between her lips. Now he can’t help but smile at her, she never fails to make him smile. With her simple enchanting grace and comedic mannerisms. Sometimes Stanley thinks her funnier than Richie Tozier himself.

Stanley now straightens up in his other button-up and underwear and watches her gracefully waltzing back into the bathroom, only in his shirt and her knickers. He can see wet spots on the shirt’s shoulders and over the breasts and back from her free-falling wet hair strands.

How magnificent is she. Arms like feather wings, legs like intertwining ribbons that dance so easily to their own beat. Hair of a color that reminds him of sunny summer and spring days, as well as dark winter afternoons, autumn mornings. Hands with the pads of cotton, cheeks plump and full of color like bright red roses. Her weight almost non-existent, so light and bird-like she carries herself. Her eyes of eternal kindness, the smile of a thousand little suns. And when you add all that together, it seems unreal, doesn’t it? She does. A fantasy only staying for a few moments until it swims away, to someplace else, to someone else. Stanley sighs.

He cannot let this fantasy go. He cannot let her go.

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