#cute stanley uris imagine

[whatthefuckisasweep]

I really love @gloomy-prince​ ‘s trans Eddie comic so so so so fucking much. ITS SOOOO SOO well crafted and wholesome and always makes me smile or like gasp in some way everytime it updates

SOOOO I drew a lil fanart of the AU with Richie being silly right after the haircut because FUCK I love to imagine how supportive and cute all the losers would be with eddie, esp richie.... MY HEARTTTTTT !!!

ALT TEXT: a drawing of trans eddie with his hair short, having just been cut by richie. richie is behind him holding two strands of cut hair above his lip as if it is a mustache. he is smiling wide and saying “HOI. OIM MISTAH EDWARD K!!” while eddie rolls his eyes playfully and tries not to smile. 

also. READ MORE FOR A BONUS COMIC BUT BE WARNED MY COMIC SKILLS ARE LACKING 

stan has to do it all himself in the end, as was richie’s intention XDDD

ALT TEXT: a 6 panel comic. In the first panel, richie and eddie are laying in the hammock, with eddie reading a comic book and richie just relaxing. In the second panel, there are “huffs” and “hrks” that are heard by richie. He looks over. In the third panel, stan is carrying a big box that says “bird books” and also a grocery bag. He looks tired. He says, “can one of you lazy fucks help me?” In the fourth panel, richie smiles and looks at stan. He says “You heard em eds, use them big man musk-les!” Eddie glances up from his book. In the fifth panel, eddie angrily throws his comic book at richie and says, “JUST BECAUSE YOU FOUND OUT IM A DUDE DOES NOT GIVE YOU THE RIGHT TO GIVE ME ALL THE WORK, ASSHOLE!”. Richie goes, “LMAOOO”. In the sixth and final panel, Stan is still carrying his stuff and he looks annoyed as all hell. He’s squinting angrily. Meanwhile, richie and eddie argue off screen through speech bubbles.  “well idk I think it does!” “it does NOT!” “I mean... look, you’re strong enough!” “It’s NOT ABOUT being STRONG!” 

[s-oulpunk]

Was rewatching Say Anything and couldn’t stop thinking abt it as a Stenbrough AU <3

Bill as Lloyd & Stan as Diane (& Tom as the shitty ex Bev has written 65 songs about)

Just like,,Stan as this quiet nerd who has never really been a part of the social aspect of school. Bill as this social butterfly who has no idea what he wants to do with his life but knows he wants to spend it with Stan. The whole “what are your plans for the summer?” “To spend as much time with you before you leave.” Ugh❤️❤️

[agaypanic]

Could you do a stan uris fic where reader is sitting by the lake that they hangout(I forgot if it had a name or not) and Stanley came alone or something to calm his head and basically finds her bird watching (we all know how much he loves his birds) but he basically watches her till she finds him and basically just have it be really cute and fluffy ☺️

Bird Watching (Stan Uris X Reader)

Masterlist

Request Something!

Summary: Stan goes to the quarry to cool down and finds that he’s not the only bird watcher in Derry.

***

It had been a few weeks since the Losers had split up from Bill and Richie’s fight. No one had really seen any of the others that much, especially if they didn’t side with the same person. 

Stan had sided heavily with Richie, which was a very rare occurrence. The boy was a skeptical and anxious person, so of course, he was immediately against any efforts to investigate the terrifying things that the friend group had been experiencing that summer. Stan was glad to have at least one friend because, on top of the strange things they couldn’t explain, his bar mitzvah was coming up.

This was why he wandered through the woods to find his way to the quarry. Stan’s ceremony hadn’t really gone the way anyone planned. Of course, Richie applauded him when he said he was a loser and “always fucking will be,” but Stan’s dad, on the other hand, didn’t appreciate it in the slightest. Things had been tense in the Uris household ever since.

Bird watching had always calmed Stan. Flipping through his book to read about the birds he was seeing, sketching them, or even just admiring them up close with his binoculars. Stan needed that calm feeling now more than ever.

Stan was almost at the quarry when he halted all movements. He had heard some noise and was straining his ears to see if it was a figment of his imagination. It sounded like a whistle, like someone was mimicking a bird call. Stan slowly moved forward, out of the cluster of trees and into the clearing of the quarry. He gulped as he stared at the girl sitting on a large rock.

Stan recognized her from school, but no name came to mind. She was hunched over a book, looking up every few seconds. She would flip through pages or mimic a bird call every now and then. Upon closer observation, Stan realized she was making calls to a blue jay that was flying around.

Stan didn’t know anyone in Derry who shared his interest in bird-watching besides maybe some of the older people. He watched as the girl’s eyes darted around, following the blue jay. The bird soon left the clearing, zipping through the trees. That’s when she finally saw Stan.

“Hi.” She looked shocked but welcoming of his presence. They smiled awkwardly at one another. “Are you just gonna stand there?” Stan realized how weird he must’ve looked, standing stiffly staring at this girl. He hesitantly walked closer to her. He noted how she seemed even more pretty up close.

“I’m, uh, I’m Stan.” His hand shot out in front of him to shake hers, his other in a tight fist out of nervousness. The girl either didn’t notice or ignored it because she just grasped his hand.

“I’m Y/n.” He nodded as they shook hands, muttering her name under his breath. It sounded very nice and fitting for her.

“Do you bird watch?” He asked. It felt like a dumb question, but Stan liked to be sure of things.

Y/n broke into a wide and bright smile. It somehow made Stan both calm and more nervous.

“Yes! Oh my gosh, I love it.”

“Me too!” Y/n scooted over to make room on the rocks for Stan, who immediately sat next to her. All jitters went away as he watched her flip through the book in her lap, which was a more worn version of the bird book that he had at home.

They discussed their favorite birds and exchanged fun facts. Stan was glad he had come alone because the Losers definitely would’ve teased them about how dorky they were probably acting. He had long forgotten about the problems he was trying to get away from by being here in the first place.

An hour later, the sun was starting to set, which seemed to be the only thing stopping Y/n and Stan from continuing their conversation. Stan sighed as the natural light dimmed, not wanting to leave the peace of the quarry.

“I better go. Mom’ll kill me if I’m not back for dinner.” Y/n laughed, standing up and grabbing her things. Stan did the same.

“It was cool talking to you.” Stan smiled weakly, not wanting to go. 

“Well, you’re cool to talk to, Stan.” Y/n had the same expression. “I’ll see you around.” She then started to walk away. Stan turned to leave, but he stopped himself from taking a step.

“Wait!” They turned to face each other. Y/n looked expectantly at Stan, who for a moment blanked on what he had wanted to say. “Do you, maybe, wanna hang out on purpose sometime?” Y/n grinned.

“Yeah!” She reached into her bag, pulling out a pen and a loose piece of paper. She scribbled something on it and walked over to hand it to Stan. “Call me whenever.” Stan looked down to see the scribble was a phone number.

“Absolutely.”

[grapesodatozier]

I for one have been thinking about a Wheelizer AU where Mike Wheeler and Stan are professors at the same university and Richie always shows up to annoy Stan but one accidentally stumbles into Mike's classroom (which is like the next one down from Stan's) instead...and proceeds to do that every time after. The man is determined to get a date with Mike and Mike is like no way! but we all know Mike and how he is

also Mike for the life of him can't figure out how Richie and Stan are best friends, and he likes hanging out with Stan bc Richie is always there and he still doesn't get it

little au but i thought I would share

sammmm thank you for this omg. okay first of all i do have an elstan professors au that i posted about once so i'm imagining this in that bc mike, el, and stan all being professors together means so much to me lol (also wheelzier elstan double dates are simply too good lol)

okay i'm picturing mike as an english professor in this one, maybe a creative writing professor, and his office is next to stan's in the main academic building. and richie's always bothering stan in his office, barging in even when the door's closed bc he knows he's allowed no matter how much shit stan gives him for it. but the offices are on the fourth floor, and richie gets bored waiting for elevators, so he's just climbed three flights of stairs, so his mind is a little occupied thinking about how much he hates stairs, and he's got a new bit he wants to run by stan, so he's distracted and counts the doors wrong and doesn't read the name plate, and he's in the middle of saying, "staniel my maniel i have struck comedy fucking gold" when he realizes the guy at the desk is not, in fact, his best friend stanley uris, but instead one of the most beautiful men richie has ever seen.

since mike teaches creative writing, his classes are pretty small--usually no bigger than 15-20 people. it's also halfway through the semester at this point, so he knows all of his students. this man is not one of his students, and he has not knocked, and mike's office hours ended ten minutes ago. this person is also very loud. all of these things ruffle mike's feathers. so he has an incredibly bitchy look on his face when he asks, "can i help you?" and richie falls in love immediately lmao

but yeah el and stan start dating eventually and richie absolutely jumps at the double date opportunities. also, richie gets kicked out of stan's office sometimes when el and stan are spending time together, so what else is he gonna do besides bother his friend's cute work neighbor?

fast forward and they actually get to talking about their interests bc richie's a comedian but he's interested in starting a narrative-form podcast, and the ways in which format affects content across various narrative media is mike's favorite subject, so he can't help but nerd out about it, and richie is actually pretty smart and funny, and maybe mike could use a little more loud in his life (not that he's immediately ready to admit that). richie also blatantly flirts with mike in a way mike has never really experienced before, and it's new and unexpected and he's so surprised to realize that he likes the attention and the fawning and all of richie's antics. richie pays attention in a similar way to how mike pays attention, but mike's gotten good at deflecting attention yet here richie is starting down into his core and it's incredibly uncomfortable for mike at first bc it highlights a yearning he hadn't even known he'd buried. richie just... makes mike feel things he hadn't let himself know he could feel before which scares mike but is so so beautiful and exciting in the long run

el is also very overwhelmed by richie at first, but not even mike or stan can keep up with her feminist theory talk like richie can, and he makes her laugh, and she likes that he's openly strange and off-beat in public, so they become fast friends. she also picks up on mike's crush on richie before mike even lets himself acknowledge it and you know she teases him for it so much. cue elstan scheming to get wheelzier together <333

[sleepyimpala]

little things stan uris does for y/n as a boyfriend

FANDOM: IT (2017). PAIRING: Stan Uris x Reader. 

likes to brush his fingers across her lips

traces soft letters or drawings on her back when she falls asleep on him

likes to clasp his watch^^ on her wrist sometimes

flattens her shirts if she has any collars because we KNOW they’re NEVER straight

reminds her to tie up her shoelaces

“You’re going to fall over, babe,”

tells her off for apologising so much

has to speak up for her most of the time

tells her off for letting people step all over her

if she has any, he says that her scars show her how strong she is

likes to stroke her hair and pull her close to him if she has panic attacks

pushes her behind him if things get dangerous

gets frustrated at his friends being stupid towards her

MASTERLIST (requests for stan are open)

[vibing-in-space1]

Imagine

Stanley checking you out when your sunbathing

[connieswriting]

Mike Hanlon // House of Memories

I met Mike Hanlon when I was 4 and he was 5. I went to the butchery with my mother that day and saw Mike making a delivery. From that day on we became inseperable. We would ride our bikes together around town, sleep at each others house, I would help him around the farm, he would help me with my homework, we would laugh together, he woud take me to school every time he could, I would help him with the deliveries, I would try to protect him from Henry Bowers, and he would try to protect me from anything really.

When the whole IT incident started, we met the Loser's and they accepted us both from day one, as if had always been freinds our whole lives. That is, until we started to drift apart. Bev was the first, moved in with her aunt, then it was Stan, Eddie, Richie, Bill and before I knew it, we weren't the Loser's anymore. Mike and I still talked, but eventually we stopped as well. My parents got frightened after a ton of kids gone missing and got killed so we moved away. Strangely enough, I started forgetting about my past, my whole childhood in Derry, as if had never happen. I could still remember IT, Pennywise, I could still remember the Losers, going down to the Barrens, to the Sewers, but I couldn't remember what we did to IT, I couldn't remember my friends’ surnames, I couldn't remember what made each and everyone of them unique.

I looked outside the car window, the signs passing by me, not really taking them in. My grandmother got sick a few days ago so we were going to live with her for a while until she got better. She never left Derry.

We arrived at our old house, where my gradma was staying; nothing had changed. The living room was still the same, my old treehouse was still in the big oak tree in our backyard, my bike was still in the little garage next to the house. I took a deep breath, going inside the house, climbing up the stairs to go to my room. It had stayed the same as well.

"I didn't want to change it" My grandmother spoke from behind me. "I always thought you would come back one day, I wanted to make you feel welcome once you did, wanted to make you feel at home."

"This was never my home. It was just a house." I sighed heavily, sitting on top of my bed. "Too many things happened here for me to ever call this place a home."

"Honey..." My grandmother started but soon stop as she looked at me. We didn't tell anyone what had happened that day at the Sewers and it's not like I can tell her about it now, I can't remember a thing. "I'm going to bake some cookies, want to help?"

"I need to unpack first, I'll help you when I'm done." I forced a smile at her as she only nodded in response. Why did we have to come back?

-------------

I tossed and rolled in bed, not being able to keep my eyes closed, something that hadn't happen ever since we left Derry. I decided it was useless and went outside to take a walk.  I threw on some clothes and left my house, doing my best not to wake anyone up.

The night was chilly, maybe too chilly for a midnight walk, but honestly I couldn’t just stay in that house. Being back to Derry made me feel sick, nostalgic and sick. This town never felt normal, there were too many things that weren't right. No one seemed to care about Derry's history, about what was happening in other people's life, and the adults... The adults had always been the worst. It had always seem to me as they didn't care what was happening with the kids, parents let their kids do whatever they wanted, even if it meant they were going to hurt themselves. I walked aimlessly for a while passing by all the places I used to love going to as a kid. They all seemed dark now, hateful, uninviting. The Barrens, a place I would spend hours at, as a little girl, now seemed to have a sort of air around it, a sort of air that made me wish I had never stepped a foot outside the house. A cold breeze of air made me hug myself tightly, trying to provide as much warmth as possible. The shadows around me seemed to be getting closer. I shook my head. That was all gone, all away. Derry was now just another small town-

(at least for now)

-just another typical American town in a sea of many others.

(but it isn't typical)

The thought seemed to come from out of me, as if someone was whispering that in my ear. Why would I even think that? Of course Derry is normal! I'm just imagining, picturing things that aren't here, things that have never been here!

(but they are, they have been, you saw them)

People in Derry do care about the past, we even studied it-

(so briefly, you shouln't even consider it studying)

-at school. Parents do care about their children and if they are or aren't doing something dangerous!

(like bill's parents cared about georgie)

With that I decided to go home, it had been a bad idea to even go outside so late at night. I always had a very imaginative mind, at least that's what my teachers and my parents used to say to me-

(and mike, or have you forgotten about mike)

As if my feet weren't even listening to my thoughts of going back home, I started walking the opposite way from my house, towards the farm. Mike's farm.

It didn't take me long before I was in his front porch. Funny how I can't remember which way the supermarket is from my house but I still remember clearly the way to Mike's house.

(he was your best friend)

I was about to knock on the door before I recalled the time. It was three thirty in the fucking morning, of course everyone would be asleep by now. I exhaled deeply, ready to head back home, when I heard a noise coming from the barn. Once again, my feet worked against my racional mind as I started to move foward before even thinking if it was safe or not. It sounded like a mixture of sobs and cries.

I stopped at the entrance thinking whether or no I should actually go in. The light coming in from the barn lighted dimly the outside, making it able for me to see my feet but nothing else. With the newly found light I could see the hairs in my arms and legs were up. Was it that cold?

(was i that scared?)

I touched the wood of the barn. I still recognize this place perfectly, the memories of every single play date I had with Mike came flooding vividly back to me. This was unquestionably my house of memories. At least mine with Mike's it was.

This made me think of what had become of Mike, something I should have done before I even came to this place. Had he made a new best friend-

(someone better than me)

Had he forgotten about me-

(like i have forgotten about our childhood)

Had I just become another someone to him?

The though stroked me harder than I thought it would, making me involuntarily take a step back, which caused a stick under my feet to crack, acknowledging my presence to whoever was inside the barn.

"Who's there?" His voice was deeper, stronger, manlier, stranger in a way, but nonetheless, it was still Mike's voice.

"Mike? Is that you?" I took a step inside the barn, looking around the many haystacks for my long lost best friend.

"(Y/N)? Please tell me that's you..." A head emerged from one of the haystacks, the same black curls I used to ruffle back in the golden days.

"Yeah it's me, Mike.” I runned towards him, tears already forming in my eyes. Just now seeing him here, in front of me, made the whole nostalgia feeling reminisce.

"You're back! You're actually back!" He pulled me in to a hug, softly crying in my shoulder. "You were gone, but now you're back." He chuckled softly, brushing my hair.

"And I'm not leaving you again..."

[artizapander]

STOP THIS.

Why is this on internet? I can't believe you all haven't noticed before, it surprised me a lot. I was searching for images of him and his fan, and found this.

THIS IS NOT OKAY. THIS IS NOT ALRIGHT. First of all, THEY ARE KIDS, all the IT cast and the ST one are majority kids. Underage. Wyatt is only 14 years old. Stop sexualizing them. DO NOT SEXUALIZE THEM. You wouldn't like if someone did the same to you, just because you're hot/cute. They don't like it either, hell, they even said they were uncomfortable with this.

WE NEED TO STOP. THIS NEED TO STOP. Fans have gone too far. I know they're cute, and it's okay to say it, or even say that when they grow up they'll be hot as fuck, but they're still only kids.

I don't have problems if you write imagines, headcanons, one-shots, anything, about them or anyone, but until that. Don't go too far, and DON'T write smut. You can write smut about Bill, about Pennywise, or even Andy if you want. But not about those kids.

PLEASE: Reblog this, share this, add a comment. We need people to know about this, and to stop this. Ty💕

(I'll use incoherent tags to call people's attention, don't mind it).

[starboystan]

the Losers Club going bowling hcs:

-okay so it would be bev’s idea because my gals sick of sitting around doing nothing all day

-richie, bill, mike and ben would be all for it

-eddie would be scared of the germs

-stanny boi would refuse at first but the others would talk him into it

-once they arrive all of them are super excited

-they get their shoes and richie offers to tie eddie’s shoes for him but actually just ties them together, making eds fall and shout at richie

-“for fucks sake Richard! why do we bring him anywhere?”

-“because he pays for our drinks sometimes” stan replies, knowing richie has a job and only likes to spend his money on his losers

-anyway, they get started and the order is bill, ben, stan, mike, bev, richie and then eddie.

-big boy bill scores a 6 and starts the game off

-benny scores a 7 and all the losers cheer

-stan’s up next and he manages to get a spare through his expert precision!

-mike throws the ball really hard and knocks 8 pins down,,, goooo mikey!!

-bev has the best aim of all the losers and gets a strike straight away, the boys watching in awe as she effortlessly lets go of the ball.

-richie dances up to the alley, let’s go of the ball with a flick of his leg and lands the ball straight in the gutter twice. he turns around a bows to the laughing losers behind him.

-eddie doesn’t want to pick up the ball because,,,,

-“there must be so many germs in there, just think about how many people fingers have been in the holes!”

-to which richie responds “just think about how many peoples holes my fingers have been in!” which made eddie go bright red and glare at him, and caused the other losers to go into a fit of laughs again.

-eddie picks up the bowling ball and manages to get a 5, immediately cleaning his hand after.

-the loser of the game has to buy everyone drinks afterwards

-bev wins but only by a few points, with stan in second place

-of course richie has to buy everyone a drink

-they all toast to bev’s great idea to go bowling

-basically they all have the best time and waste loads of money in the arcade afterwards

-( richie wins eddie a pink teddy bear in the claw machine and eddie blushes remembers why he loves richie being around )

-just a super fun fluffy time fulla loveeee

[holymultiplefandomsbatman]

Different (IT Imagine)

Stanley Uris x Reader (They are teenagers.)

Stanley Uris had always been the quiet one. The guy that didn't laugh loudly with the others and made jokes but rather smiled lightly or made a sarcastic comment. That meant that almost nobody knew him. He wasn't rude like Richie or recognized because of his stutter like Bill. He wasn't the one people whispered about behind his back like they did about Beverly. And he wasn't the "new kid" either like Ben.

So he was surprised when in math class a girl sitting behind him whispered his name. "Stan!"

He thought he had just hallucinated and continued writing.

"Stanley!"

Stan turned around, confused. Why would someone know his name? The girl who had called him smiled. "Can you lend me a pencil?"

He was starstruck for a second. "Me?," Stan asked, unsure if she hadn't meant to ask somebody else.

"Of course you!," she grinned. "Or do you know someone else named Stanley Uris?"

He stared at her for a second, not believing what was happening. Somebody knew his name? He quickly grabbed a pencil and gave it to her, his fingers shaking slightly. This had never happened before. How did she know him? The girl smiled at him, sweet and friendly.

"Thanks, Stan."

The rest of the class Stanley just stared at the papers in front of him, not able to get over the fact that someone actually knew his name.

***

A week later he was sitting under a tree with the other Losers except for Beverly who had said that she would be a little late.

"Hey Stan!," Richie called. He turned to him with confusion. His voice had that tone in it that meant nothing good. "Yeah?," he asked carefully.

There was a wide grin on his friend's face that slightly scared him. Stan knew how Richie could be sometimes.

"You remember that girl in my biology class, Madeline?" He nodded, waiting for his friend to continue. "Now guess who just banged her during lunch! That's right, Richie did!" Richie grinned, obviously proud of himself.

Stan sighed. "Awesome, Richie. Well done." His voice was dripping with sarcasm.

His friend ran his hand through his dark locks, fixing his brown eyes on Stan. "Don't tell me you're still a virgin, Stan! You're gonna die old and alone if that doesn't change! Seriously!"

Eddie next to him let out an annoyed sigh. "Why don't you leave Stan alone, huh? He can decide for himself."

Bill nodded. "Y-yeah. Just b-because you bang everything t-t-that wears a skirt doesn't mean that S-Stan has to do the same!"

Richie grinned. "You're one to talk! How often have you done it with Bev by now? C'mon, dude! You can't fool us. We know!" Bill's face turned red and he turned away from them in embarrassment, muttering something about privacy.

"Often, Rich!," came the answer from Beverly who walked towards them. "Just about... an hour ago was the last time, if I'm not mistaken."

Richie stared at her, his jaw dropping. His gaze wandered to Bill and then back to Beverly. "But we had classes! Wait. Is that why Bill disappeared to the bathroom all of a sudden?"

Beverly giggled at his shocked expression. Eddie sighed but had to smile as well. Stan shook his head. Why did they have to talk about sex all the time? It was annoying. His gaze wandered until it found a silhouette making its way towards them.

"Hey, Bev!," called the voice of a girl and Beverly turned around. "Hi!," she greeted. "Sooo, guys, this is Y/n. Y/n, these idiots are my friends. And my boyfriend, Bill. That one with the big glasses is Richie, that next to him is Eddie, that's Mike, Ben, you know Bill already, and that is-"

"Stan.," Y/n finished, smiling at him. Stan just stared at her. The girl from math class! What was she doing here?

Bev looked surprised as well. "Yeah, that's Stan. Do you two know each other?"

"We have math together.," Stan answered before Y/n could. He cleared his throat, suddenly nervous. He ignored Richie's grin and looked at the girl in front of him.

"What are you doing here?"

Y/n looked taken aback by the sharp tone in his voice. "I wanted her to meet you guys," Bev answered instead, putting an arm around her friend's shoulders and giving him a warning look. "We've been friends for some time now and I just wanted her to get to know my other friends."

Bill was the first to speak after a few moments of silence. "N-nice to meet you, Y-y-y/n." He smiled at her. Y/n smiled back, her eyes glancing over at Stan quickly and then away.

"Nice to meet all of you, too. Bev has told me much about you."

"Bev! How can you embarass us in front of such a beautiful girl! You're ruining my chances!," Richie chimed in, jokingly crossing his arms in front of his chest. Y/n only grinned at him and sat down.

"I only know the good things, of course!"

"Hallelujah!"

Bev just looked at Richie with amusement and sat down next to Bill, pressing a kiss to his lips to greet him.

Stan looked over at Ben. The teen didn't seem to mind. Everyone knew that he had been in love with Beverly when they were younger but after she had started dating Bill those feelings seemed to have subsided. He was happy for Ben. Maybe he'd someday find a girl who loved him as much as Bev loved Bill. Stan certainly hoped so.

His eyes wandered over to Y/n before he could stop himself. It was so strange to see her here. He wasn't ready for this. The shock of her knowing his name was still present in his mind. How was he supposed to treat her normally now?

Y/n looked at him suddenly, a small smile on her lips. He turned his head away quickly.

***

"I don't think Stan likes me, Bev.," Y/n told her a few weeks later. They were sitting on her bed, back leaning against the wall.

Beverly looked at her, surprise written over her face. "Why do you think that?"

Y/n let out a sigh. "He ignores me all the time. And if I try to talk to him he blocks me. I just don't know what to do!"

Bev looked at her friend. Now that she thought about it, Stan had really distanced himself from Y/n since that day she had been introduced to the group. He had also started to be mad at Richie for some reason. She sighed.

"Stan is special. He keeps to himself normally. He's the quiet type, you know?"

Y/n looked confused. "I've noticed. But what does he have against me?"

Beverly shrugged. "I honestly don't know. Maybe you should ask him?"

"Do you think he'll even listen to me?" She sounded scared. Her friend sighed and wrapped her arm around her shoulders.

"I don't know, Y/n."

***

"Stan?"

Stanley turned around to see Y/n walking over to him. He stiffened. Over the last weeks he had tried to avoid her. He just couldn't look at her normally and treat her like he treated Beverly or any other girl in school. He wasn't able to. He had realized that three weeks ago.

They had all been spending their free time at the Quarry again. After a lot of joking around they had decided to go swimming. And suddenly Stan hadn't been able to keep his eyes off of Y/n. It had been impossible. The way her eyes were shining, the way her hair was glowing when sunshine hit it. Her laughter had been ringing in his ears.

And then Richie had grabbed her around the waist and thrown her into the water. Y/n had screamed and started to splash water at him. It had turned into a fight quickly.

But Stan had seen the way Richie's eyes had followed Y/n. He had watched his attempts to get close to her. And he had started to get angry. Really angry. It had escalated later that evening when he had insulted Eddie without intending to. Of course he had apologized and left shortly after that.

Since then nothing was the same. He had tried to distance himself from the Losers, especially Y/n and Richie. Stan had seen the disappointment in his friends' eyes but it was the only possibility he saw not to hurt them. And it seemed as if that had come to bite him in the ass today. Great.

"Yeah?," he asked when Y/n stopped in front of him. Her hair was glowing again but her normally joyfilled eyes looked sad.

"Can we talk?" Her voice sounded scared and unsure and the way she was playing with her hands indicated that she was nervous. He gulped and nodded.

"Okay."

Y/n sat down on a nearby bench and looked up at him. "Why don't you like me, Stan?"

Her words hit him like a brick.

"Did I do something? Was I mean to you? If I was, I'm sorry. I didn't realize it."

Stan just stared at her for a moment. He mentally slapped himself. He hadn't thought about how his behaviour came across to others. Of course they probably all thought that he was mad at them.

With a sigh he sat down beside Y/n. "Listen, I'm not mad at you. I'm not mad at the others either. Well, maybe a little mad at Richie but that doesn't matter. I've just had stuff to deal with over the last weeks and so I avoided you guys. I had to figure out some things. It wasn't because of something you or the others did, okay? It was because of me."

Y/n smiled at him, that same smile she had asked him for a pencil in math class with. It made his heart flutter a little.

"I'm glad to hear that. Maybe I can help you with the stuff you struggle with? I bet the others would be happy to help, too."

Stan almost laughed out loud. If only it was that easy... But maybe talking to Richie would help. He hoped so. Maybe they could find a solution.

"Thanks, Y/n, but I don't think you can help me at the moment. I'll talk to Richie about some of the things and maybe then it'll get easier."

Y/n took his hand and squeezed it lightly. Stan almost forgot how to breathe. "Ok. But please tell me if I can help you in any way, okay? I don't like to see you struggle. You deserve to be happy, Stan."

He smiled at her warmly, ignoring his racing heart. "Thank you. That really means a lot to me."

Y/n just grinned and pulled him up from the bench. "Now come on, the others want to go get ice cream! You have to come with us!"

Stan grinned and let her pull him away. Her laughter filled the air as all of them were riding their bikes to the ice cream shop. And in that moment everything was fine.

[satoruvt]

stay

hurt/comfort fics give me so much life. so much. so much

pairing → stan uris x reader

request → 2,3,6,15,16 FOR THE PANIC ATTACK ONE OML -🥀 + idk i feel like stan would be best because i feel like he's struggled with them before and just knows that the reader just needs to feel loved and knows that they just need to be hugged and cared for... so stan? -🥀

word count → 537

 “Shh, hey,” Stan says, sitting down on your bed next to you. His hand touches your leg in a comforting way, showing he’s there to help. You look at him with teary eyes. “Calm down, take deep breaths, okay? You’ll be alright.”

 You were fine, you were getting extra clothes ready because you and everyone else were going to the quarry, but then it hit you - you don’t even know what, but suddenly you weren’t fine. You weren’t getting extra clothes and thinking about the hot summer sun on your back, you were on your bed and trying to breathe because you couldn’t. You couldn’t breathe.

 You didn’t have your own bike, not yet, so Stan had told you he would come pick you up to take you to the quarry. He had knocked on your door, made nice small talk with your mother - who was leaving in a rush, he recalled - and then went to your room, and you seemed so broken.

 “What’s wrong?” Stan asks now, and you shake your head, wiping your eyes.

 “Nothing, nothing, I’m okay,” You start to say, but Stan cuts you off.

 “No,” he says, and his voice is both soft and stern. “Stop pretending you’re okay because I know you’re not.”

 Stan moves a little closer to you, moving his hand on your knee to around your shoulders. You willingly curl into him then, looping your arms under his and holding on to him with trembling fingers.

 “Just talk to me.” Stan whispers, and that’s what finally gets you. Your tears start again, and you lean in to the crook of his neck with a shaky breath.

 So you do, you talk to him, and you let it all out, because you remember being told that it’s better than keeping it inside. It doesn’t take long, because you can’t exactly put how you’re feeling into words, but by the end of it Stan’s holding you tighter than before, and your tears are slowing.

 “It’s like - it’s like I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe, and I don’t know why,” You say after a little bit of silence, and you feel Stan nod.

 You pull away from the hug and he smiles at you, a comforting and warm and understanding smile. Stan wipes a tear away from under your eye and he looks conflicted for a moment.

 “Please don’t cry,” he says then, and looks into your eyes. “I can’t stand it when you cry.”

 You smile tiredly and Stan leans forward a bit. “Is this okay?” He asks you, and you nod.

 “More than okay,” you whisper back, and he connects your lips swiftly. The kiss is soft and sweet and doesn’t last that long, but you’re thankful for it nonetheless.

 Stan pulls away and kisses your forehead before getting off the bed. “Get some rest. I’ll tell the others you were sick or something.” He tells you, and then makes his way to the doorway, but you stop him.

 “Will you - stay with me?” You ask with a hoarse voice, and Stan smiles with a nod. He crawls into the bed next to you and holds you to his chest, kissing your nose before you drift off to sleep.

[reddie-stenbrough-blog]

So I was in the shower making HC's and I thought about something.

I see all these posts about Ace Mike (which is beautiful) but like 17 year old Ace Bev who likes girls is my dream. Like they're laying there side by side, no kissing, just content happy silence and stars ( and cigarettes) like these two scary punk ass bitcheds just laying there like rom com characters. Because everyone expects heavy PDA because of their aesthetic but like they just cuddle and talk for hours about anything that comes to mind.

[izzydarkwoodofficial]

next generation of losers🎈

au where eddie and stan haven't died

stenbrough & reddie & benverly are married couples

mike is the legendary aroace uncle that everyone loves

Mike Kaspbrak-Tozier (17)

love child of reddie (eddie kaspbrak-tozier & richie kaspbrak-tozier)

born on 31st october 2017 (08:02 AM)

zodiac sign: scorpio

bisexual and proud

crush on georgie, eventually falls for her brother

EVERYONE ships him with stenbrough kids

birthday twin with his best friend beck

someone HAD to name their kid after mike, bye

extroverted and basically trashmouth

has these schizophrenic phases when he shush himself after saying shit ("shut up, mikey")

has asthma, but smokes ("idiot" - georgie)

only jacob knows how to calm him down when he has anxiety attack

always carries some sort of first-aid kit

loves listening to oldies and playing old video games

his idea was to have matching tattoos

"black nails tell tales" & wears eyeliner

always tease jacob of his dirty little secret ("i don't know what you're talking about, mikey")

secretly wants jacob to wear skirts and dresses (imagining it before falling asleep)

once saw jacob wearing one, that's when it started and thanks to that he realized he fell

jacob calls him 'm'

plays keyboard in their little band losers n°2

Beck Marsh-Hanscom (17)

love child of beverly marsh-hanscom & ben hanscom

born on 31st october 2017 (02:48 PM)

zodiac sign: scorpio

pansexual and loud

basically mama of the group

thinks she likes jacob, but it's georgie all the way, yay

writes poetry and reads a lot

smoking dates with mike

basically get together mike and jacob

EVERYONE has crush on her

never miss a chance to have flowers in hair (georgie LOVES it)

really smart

found out the parallel in hers and her parents' names (be-) at the age of three

flirts a LOT (mainly not on purpose, she's just too kind to everyone around her)

don't mess with her, you're gonna earn a pretty black eye (mike knows what he's talking about)

calling everyone darling is her religion

actually interested in jewishness

wears strawberry chapstick to cover taste of cigarettes when kissing georgie (fails)

introduced boys to make-up and they are deep in that shit now

wants georgie to wear red lipstick, cause it looks hot on her, but she always refuses (after getting together she wears it all the time)

listens to new kids on the block ALL THE TIME

assumed to be fuckgirl, but is just the sweetest

vocalist and plays electric guitar in losers n°2

Jacob Uris-Denbrough (16)

second-born of stanley uris-denbrough & bill uris-denbrough

born on 6th january 2018 (09:21 PM)

zodiac sign: capricorn

gay as fuck

crush on mike almost since the beginning

basically the baby of the group (youngest too)

name after isaac's second-born kid in torah

loves writing & photographing

introverted and shy, but mike thinks it's cute

best friend with his sister (basically glued together)

overprotective over his big sis

stutters when nervous, mad, jealous, upset ("i find your stutters very cute, jc” - mike)

has nightmares a LOT

has OCD

always begging his parents to tell him more about their adventures when they were kids

finds old clubhouse and screams in excitement like little girl ("the stories are true")

secret marijuana dealer

getting high to escape reality when he has writer block and wanna daydream

stopped after mike found him one time and he spilled almost all of his secrets except that one "you're mikey, i'm not telling you my dirty little secret"

steals make-up from his best friend

wanna wear fem clothes, but is too scared to

mike calls him 'jc'

has skills to be a leader, just doesn't wanna be one

have read every single book by his dad and is his first reader and critic when he writes new book (bill always takes his advices to heart)

the most ticklish person you've ever known (mike takes an advantage in that, of course)

calls georgie 'gie'

basically papa stanny's boy

loves spending time with aunties patty & audra

plays drums in losers n°2

Georgie Uris-Denbrough (18)

first-born of stanley uris-denbrough & bill uris-denbrough

born on 15th august 2016 (03:15 AM)

zodiac sign: leo

proud lesbian

in love with beck, but hides it pretty well

definition of soft artist girl aesthetic

more easy-going and extroverted than her brother

overprotective over her lil bro

the oldest in the group

loves birdwatching and painting - mostly birds (and beck, shhh, don't let her hear that)

doesn't like reading at all

sassy queen as her dad, seriously the sassiest in the group and have tendency to shut up mike when he doesn't do it himself (beck finds it REALLY atractive)

more interested in jewishness than her brother

doesn't understand the point of OCD ("why you have to have everything so organised?")

walking artistic mess (brush in hair, doesn't care)

has brushes EVERYWHERE (back pocket of jeans? yeah, that's the safe place for brushes)

name after uncle georgie (jewish tradition to name their kid after dead relative, they believe that the soul of the loved one lives on in the child who now bears his name)

once painted judith on accident (never really saw the painting, just by hearing the stories) - her papa had nightmares after that for full month, her dad almost killed her (with words, ofc) and that's when jacob's nightmares started, she never forgave herself truly after that

calls jacob 'jay'

daddy bill's little girl

"strawberries and cigarettes always taste like you"

plays bass guitar in losers n°2

[sleepyimpala]

love letters

FANDOM: IT (2017). PAIRING: Stanley Uris x Reader. GENRE: Fluff. REQUESTED: yes. WARNINGS: none. FROM MY OLD BLOG: selfish-archipelago (THE ORIGINAL ONE). REQUESTS FOR STANLEY URIS ARE CURRENTLY CLOSED!!!

luciferlxve asked:

Hello! May I request a Stan x fem!Reader where Stan tries to cheer the reader up and anonymously writes her a love letter but accidentally puts his name on it and yeah, well…fluff? Only if you’ve got the time and want to, xoxo 🙂

THIRD PERSON POV

Stanley watched her from across the table as she sighed some more, sniffing, stabbing her food with her fork quite violently as the others argued over the rules of time traveling.

Y/N’s hand slips and her fork, along with the rest of her food (just a bit, not a lot), clatter to the ground.

She groans frustratedly, her eyes already tinted red.

Only Stanley seemed to notice.

Of course, he did.

Y/N had been his crush ever since he met her.

She sighs again, this time with a louder sniff before bending down to pick up her things.

The bell rang.

All the way through science, Stan couldn’t help but think about how miserable his crush looked.

Normally, he liked subjects like science and math, because he found them interesting, but today, something seemed to be nagging away at his mind.

He kept on picturing her… crying.

Getting upset about things.

Bottling things up inside.

“S - Stan?” Stanley was so caught up in his own thoughts he’d even forgotten Bill was with him. “Are you OK?”

“What?” snap out of it, he told himself. “Uh, yeah. I’m fine.”

“Are you worried about N - N/N? I thought it was only me.”

“Yeah, actually,” Stan scratches his head. “What’s wrong? Do you know?”

Bill bit the inside of his cheek.

“Crap,” Stan says. “Wait, what did I do?”

“I don’t think you m - meant it,” Bill starts gently. “But remember Saturday, at the Quarry?”

“I spent the whole time there with her,” Stan recalls.

“No, not the w - whole time,” the stuttering boy shakes his head.

“What do you mean?”

“Stan, we literally saw y - you f - flirting with B - Beverly.”

“Yeah, but - ”

“Oh my God!” Bill explodes. “She likes y - you! OK, listen, Stan, how would you like it if I flirted with Y/N?”

“Well, I would probably beat - wait, what? Are you saying what I think you’re saying? She likes me back?”

“IT’S BEEN ALMOST TEN YEARS!” Bill crows. “How did you n - not - ”

I have to make it up to her, Stan’s mind was already racing. Write. Because… because I’m kind of good at it. Write a… I’ll write a letter.

“Mr. Denbrough! Mr. Uris! Would you like a detention?”

“No, thank you, Miss,” Stan quips. Bill nods.

Stanley zoned off once again, this time coming up of what to write.

// later //

Stanley sat at his desk, armed and ready with a pen and paper, eyes drooping shut, but he forced himself to stay awake.

I’m sorry if I made you feel unimportant that day at the Quarry. I was honestly just taking one of our friends’ advice. But, if it makes you feel better, I love being with you. You’re practically the reason why I get out of bed and the reason why I deal with all of these idiots rather than just finding new friends. I know you try so hard to be perfect, although in my eyes, you already are. I love you just the way you are, and I’ll never look at another girl the way I look at you.

He was pretty sure he didn’t sign it off, and he was pretty sure he never wrote poetry like that.

But, again, he was pretty tired, so he could have been mistaken.

// the next day //

Y/N found the letter at around noon on a Sunday morning.

She was grumpy and tired, and still upset from the Quarry when the envelope made its’ way into her postbox.

Curiously, she took it inside to her bed, where she carefully tore the blue paper open.

These were the closing lines:

I love you just the way you are, and I’ll never look at another girl the way I look at you.

- Stanley

She gasped as she read the name, over and over again.

“I’ve got to tell him,” she exclaims to herself.

Grabbing the letter, she rode a few houses down, ringing the doorbell of the Uris household.

His mom opened the door.

“Is Stanley here?” She says quickly.

“I think so. He’s upstairs, probably.” His mom affirms.

“Thanks,” Y/N smiles before running upstairs.

“Teenagers,” his mother mutters.

Stanley was in his room, reading.

“Stan?” Y/N whispers.

He looks up, surprised, before noticing the letter in her hand.

He groans and shoves his head into his palm.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he mutters. “No! I did - god.”

“Stan, did you write this?”

He nods miserably.

She smiles, a blush creeping onto her face.

“Bill told me…” he admits. She rolls her eyes. Of course, he did. “And I’m sorry. I didn’t know I was flirting with her, I thought I was just being friendly, honest!” He puts his hands up in surrender.

“Stan,” she cuts in. “It’s not your fault. Well… mostly. I’ve been having a really shitty week, and I guess… you and Bev… that was the final blow for me,” Stan gets up and closes the door.

“Well,” he takes the letter out of her hands, placing it on the bed. “I think I know how to improve your week,” he smiles.

“Do you?”

“Yeah.”

He pulls her close before planting his lips on hers.

They both breathe before pulling away.

“Holy shit, you do.”

MASTERLIST (requests for stan are open)

[antisociallilbrat]

We're The Losers, And We Always Will Be Chp. 10

Read on Ao3

Chp. 9

Chp. 10

Summary: Stan talks to a lost love and Syd sees torment

Warnings: Stan's infamous bath scene is referenced a few times, Bev's dad is mentioned but not in heavy detail, only like a line or two, and there's some major graphic MENTIONED character death. It involves a dr*g overd*se and a s*icide, if need too you can skip Syd's part. If I missed any warnings just let me know

A/N: I WILL FINISH THIS FIC I SWEAR. Anyways I'm back on my bullshit

Since Stan has been in Derry it has felt like there’s this, this voice, screaming at him to leave, and it feels guilty.

He hasn’t wanted to remember anything. Still not convinced this isn’t some sick joke. Or better yet, maybe he took some bad poppers at a party and he’s stuck in a coma. Maybe he saw a rerun of Jacob’s trial, that’s why he’s making a guest appearance. He always thought the guy was cute so he's playing his love interest. Of course, Syd is here, he knows her, and Wendell, Sonny, and Freddy are probably just the faces he’s seen at said party. Mike though, fuck, Mike is the thing that shatters the hopeful fantasy of just being stuck in a coma. 

Mike- Richie- the Trashmouth, who is Stan Uris’s best friend. Mike, who is infuriatingly so much like Stanley Uris and like how Stan Barber is like Richie Tozier. That can’t be a coincidence. He would argue his jokes are far better though. Also now that he has started to remember Richie, is he really that annoying? He’ll have to ask Syd. 

The few memories that have forced their way in, some good, some bad, are mainly of Mike- Richie. Growing up with him and confiding with him when being gay and the son of the Rabbi became too much. Being Jewish in his past life isn't surprising, since he’s still genetically Jewish. He would like to say he can’t imagine the pressure that went with being the son of the Rabbi but he can remember his Father’s scolding eyes just fine. He always thought Stan was too much of a ‘fairy’ and too soft. His Father would call him a fairy because of how much time he would spend with Bill. 

“That Denbrough boy is turning you into a faggot.”

And Bill, the man who's books have always been a sense of escape growing up in this life- the voice inside his head roars with such a ferocity whenever he tries to remember anything about him. It uses the same intensity it has when it’s screaming at him to turn around and leave Derry. He’s only going to get them- no, he’s not going there. He can’t, his heart hurts.

Yet Jacob has been nothing but comfort since they’ve been here but he can’t get too close. Stan doesn’t shrink back at thought of being gay, or of having gay feelings for Jacob. Or Bill? It’s the same person- kinda. What scares him is the feeling of heartbrokenness that surrounds the idea of Bill. Whenever a memory threatens to leak through, the voice just tightens the chains around it. Honestly, he thinks he prefers it that way. 

He doesn’t care if they’re supposed to be out remembering, trying to figure out what went wrong during the ritual. He doesn’t want to remember. The longer he’s in Derry, it feels like he’s losing his choice in that. 

Especially now as he sits in the synagogue, the place where he properly pissed off his Father at his Bar Mitzvah, sitting by his best friend who is entirely too much like his past self, as he stares up at the face of his wife. Or the wife of Stanley Uris. For a moment, the voice in his head runs quiet. “Patty?”

“Stanley? Is that really you?” She dashes as fast her aged body can carry her over to the stop of the spiral staircase, her slippers shuffling against the carpet, “Oh please, please come where I can see you.” 

Apprehension runs down the back of his neck, this could easily be a trick of It’s. Mike squeezes his shoulder, causing him to jump at the sudden contact. Mike doesn’t notice as his eyes are still on Patty, probably thinking the same thing. 

“Stanley,” she pleads, descending the stairs, back into the light.

Now that he can see her better, any tension bleeds out of his body. She’s not just one of It's games, she’s just Patty. That’s enough to get him on his feet. Mike stands with him, his hand still steady on his shoulder.  

“It’s okay Rich, it’s just Patty,” he says as reassuringly as he can.

Mike gives him a look, his eyes worried behind the magnified lens, “You two know each other?

“Yeah, we’re…,” he searches for the words, this is so overly complicated, “we’re old friends,” he settles on. Not a lie but not nearly enough of the truth, that’ll just have to wait till they’re in the safety of the others. 

Mike scoffs, but he must sense Stan’s reluctance to push the issue, letting his hand fall from his shoulder, “Then I’ll give you two some time to catch up,” he spares another glance back at Patty, still untrusting, “I’ll be right outside if you need me.” The “So I’ll be close enough to hear you scream if you need help,” goes unsaid but still appreciated nonetheless. 

Patty ushers him up the stairs and unsteadily he follows her to an all too familiar office, his Father's old one. She’s tried to make the place homier, with a comfortable couch and pictures of what must be family and friends, and there's a candle lit, its applewood scent trying to override the inherently musty smell of the room. It’s not working. 

The ugly green carpet has at least been ripped out and replaced with hardwood but the wallpaper is still that piss yellow. There’s a stain on the wall where a large painting was replaced.  The flute lady and her crooked face, he can still hear her wretched music and feel the rows of her teeth around his face, she’s going to rip his face off- He shakes off the nightmare, rubbing at the sides of his face and expecting to feel the silvery skin of scars. There’s none, for now. 

The flute lady’s painting has been replaced with a smaller frame. It’s a photo of a smiling couple. Patty was beautiful in her younger years, she's still pretty now- just in a grandmotherly way, and it’s easy to see why he married her. Beside her, the face of Stanley Uris stares back at him.

His hair is even darker than it is now, curls immaculate, a kippah resting on the top of his head. Stanley Barber has never worn a kippah a day in his life. He’s clean-shaven with thin framed reading glasses perched on his nose. He's dressed in fancily crisp khaki pants and a baby blue button-down tucked into his pants. If he wore something like that, Syd would look at him like he’s grown a second head. He has the same sentiment, he would never dress like that. He's wearing sandals right now for fuck's sake, Stanley Uris wouldn't do that. And it may just be his imagination but Uris's eyes look haunted, and the eye bags tell him that Stanley Uris never got a lot of sleep. In the days leading up to Wendell’s summoning, he barely slept too. Too busy being plagued with nightmares of bathtubs filled with blood, blood that was coming from him. 

“You grow up to be very handsome.” Patty breaks him out of his scrutiny of Uris, standing beside him. 

“Huh, if you say so."

“I do say so.” She tells him, turning to pull out the chair across from her desk, “Come on then, I’m sure you have questions.” She wraps the blanket that was on the back of her chair around herself, even though she's in a pink sweater. He remembers her being perpetually cold.

But she is right, he does have one particular question gnawing at him. He takes his seat as Patty sits across from him in her desk chair, vaguely reminding him of a principal's office. Like when he would get busted for smoking pot in the bathrooms, simpler times. 

Stan swallows the lump in his throat and asks the question he’s not entirely sure he wants the answer to, “How did you know? How did you know I was Stanley?” How much does she know is what he needs to know. Does she know about It? And how did she end up in Derry? How badly did he break her heart?

“After being married for nearly twenty years, a wife knows her husband, although I suppose my husband died in 1994 as I’ve always thought.” She says this matter of fact, despite the small smile. 

“...And what do you make of me?”

She studies him for a moment, “I don’t know. I know you’re Stanley, but I don’t think you’re quite my Stanley,” she leans over her desk and whispers, “But there are some things that we’re not supposed to understand and I’m okay with that. After the life I’ve lived, I take comfort in my blissful ignorance and the knowledge that there are bigger forces that are just outside my understanding. That used to annoy my Stanley, such a factual man he was.” She falls back in her seat.

He snorts, “Yeah, I think me and him had different views on things. Sometimes I can’t believe we’re the same person.” 

“No, I see him in you. You’re more like him than you think, I can just sense it.”

That stops him short. Patty had just given him reassurance for an insecurity he didn’t even know he had. This whole time he’s looked at Stanley Uris as this unattainable idea, there was no way he could live up to who he was, he was just so different. But hearing Patty, the woman he loved and was married to in his past life say that they’re alike, helps.

“So do I have to worry about suddenly having the urge to dress like a mini lawyer?”

“Accountant actually,” she corrects with a giggle.

He smiles at her, proud of himself for making her laugh. He’s missed it. Being here with Patty, it’s the lightest he’s felt since he’s gotten here, or in weeks. Besides last night when he was with Jacob, but that was more feeling safe than light. He wishes he could just stay with her, or at least at this moment, but it can’t last. Not when Patty’s eyes get a faraway look in them, remembering something.

“Do you remember the night Mike Hanlon called our home?” she asks him.

No. Yes. Kinda. He doesn’t remember the details, doesn’t want to, but he remembers how he felt. Being so terrified he didn’t know if he was even going to come back. That maybe he’d be better off dead. If it wasn't for the urgency he had felt to get back to the losers, to get back to Bill, he doesn’t know what he would’ve done that night. What he should’ve done. 

Patty, thankfully, doesn’t wait for him to answer, “I do. I relive it every day. After that phone call, my husband throwing clothes into a suitcase, not even bothering to fold them,” she laughs but it’s not that funny, “I tried to talk to him, to find out what was going on, to help even, if he’d just talk to me, but it was like talking to a ghost. He left his sparrow puzzle half done on the coffee table, I had gotten it for him for his birthday,” her voice breaks as she sniffles, “You didn’t even say goodbye.”

“I’m sorry.”  he chokes out. He’s so mad at Stanley Uris for putting Patty through that, but it’s just guilt. He did that, wasn’t even aware he did that, but now he can pay for his past life’s mistakes, at least the best he can. “I never wanted to leave you like that, I just- I had to come back to Derry.”

Patty wipes a few stray tears away, “I know. I know that now. I don’t understand why, but that’s okay. After you had left, I never heard from you again. I filed a missing person report, I wasn’t sure what else to do, but the police weren’t much help. They never are. It didn’t help when my parents found out about your disappearance. For a while my father had me convinced you had left me for a man, he always thought you were a little queer,” Stan swallows down more guilt as Bill pops into his head, “But I was just angry and scared. It was easier to think you had left me for someone else, but you wouldn’t have done it like that. So I went searching for answers. Even called up your parents in New York. I had forgotten how dreadful your father was.”

There’s a vague sense he lived in New York during his college years, but that time wasn’t important. Not important enough to remember, but…that’s where he met Patty. At some stupid college party and he had thought she was the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen. The smell of her perfume and her soft hands cradling his face. He was in love the moment he saw her. She’s much more pleasant to remember than the harshness of his father who also lived in New York. Compared to remembering Derry and It, remembering Patty is safe. The voice in his head doesn’t scream at her memories. 

She continues her story, “Your parents were absolutely no help, and your father made the same jab about you probably leaving me for a man,” of course he did, “But your mother mentioned your childhood home, Derry. Which was funny because you never spoke about your childhood,” because Stanley Uris didn’t remember it, didn’t want to either, “And on a whim, I decided to travel up here. It was Mike Hanlon from Derry that called, so it made sense.”

“And you never left?” The idea of Patty being in Derry all these years, it’s a little scary. She’s not safe as long as she’s here. 

“Well, that wasn’t the plan. When I first came here, no one would talk to me. I learned quickly that Derry didn’t like outsiders. Even filed another missing person report with the Derry police, but they were too fixated solving the escape and the murders at the Mental Institution. They never did. Then I discovered the Neilbolt house.”

A chill runs down his spine. “Please tell me you didn’t go in there.”

“No I didn’t, but it answered my questions because I felt It. ”

“It?!” he squeaks.

“Yes Stanley, it. The presence of an otherworldly being. A thing outside of my understanding, a thing that didn’t concern me but entirely concerned my husband. The reason you went away.” Patty is talking about IT, but she doesn’t know what IT is, not like how he does. And all he knows about It is terror. 

“But then why did you stay here? Knowing that there was this thing here that kil- caused me to go missing?” More importantly, is there any way he can convince her to leave now? It’s woken it up, who knows what It’ll do. 

As she tells her story, she starts to visibly relax and her silent tears start to dry up. As if just telling him her story is making her feel better. She's had a lot of time to keep it bottled up. So Patty hums, amused, “I’m not sure. I just kinda stuck around. Being here helped me feel close to you, and before I knew it I had rented an apartment and was teaching at the elementary school. Then not long after that, I got involved with the synagogue and now I’m one of the leaders here. Ironically I built my life in the same place my husband lost his.”  

Stan flinches. He hates thinking about the fact that he’s technically died before, and it has him jonesing for a blunt. Or at least a cigarette. 

He reaches across and grabs her hand- she still wears her wedding ring- resting on the desk, it’s wrinkled with age but he grasps it tightly, “And you’ve had a good life? After me?” She deserves that but also, maybe selfishly he’s looking for a way to aleave some of the guilt. 

“I’ve done all right for myself, you don’t have to worry about ole’ Patty, Stanley,” she pats his hand with her free one, “I’ve missed you my whole life, and I’ve always hoped to see you again but I gotta say, this isn’t what I expected. You’re back, but it’s for a reason isn’t it?”

Stan leans back in his chair, letting his hand slip from hers and ignoring the dejected look on her face. He could lie, it’s not like he can tell the whole truth, but he’s tired. “It’s for the same reason I left you. We, my friends and I, have to try again.”

“I can help this time,” the look of incredulous he gives her makes her laugh, “I’m serious Stanley, I can help. You just have to let me.” 

“But you’re old.”

He’s an idiot. He said that out loud. He’s such a bad husband, he’s never getting married again. 

Patty bursts into a peal of laughter, “You’re still blunt! And I suppose I am, but with age comes wisdom. Let me help you.”

That’s true, but he’s not having her risk her life. There’s no point in trying to convince her to leave Derry, her life is here and she’s always been stubborn as a bull, but he can try to keep her safe. “No, one of the others has a plan, we’re seeing it through. The best help you can do for me is to promise me to stay safe. Avoid the house on Neilbolt and any other unsettling places and just- stay safe okay?”

“This is Derry Stanley, every place is unsettling.”

“Patty please.”

She relents, for his sake, “Okay Stanley, I promise.” 

“Thank you.” Then the guilt finally breaks him and the tears start. Not the quiet ones like Patty had earlier, no- ugly gut-wrenching sobs. The kind that makes you ache down in your bones. He doubles over, clutching his sides and trying to hide his face. He hasn’t cried this hard since his mom left when he was nine and he realized she wasn’t coming back that time. 

A pair of arms scoop him up and his face is pressed into the softness of Patty’s fuzzy sweater, she still wears the same perfume. She coos at him, running a hand through his curls, “Sssshhh it’s okay, you’re okay, we’re okay,” she repeats this mantra softly. He clings tighter to her. The comfort she’s giving him is like the kind his mom used to give him, this just makes him cry harder. 

“I-I-I I’m so s-sorry! I’m sorry Puh-Patty!” he sobs out, “I left you and I h-had to! But I should’ve said guh-goodbye!” 

“Ssshhh, don’t you worry about that!” She sounds almost as hysterical as he does, trying to reassure him, “Neither of us had a say in any of this, and I know you wouldn’t have left me if you had a choice!” 

He did have a choice, he could’ve slit his wrists.

Her words do little to calm him, he still thinks he could’ve done things differently. He should’ve done things differently. He just keeps apologizing to her till eventually, he runs out of steam and he’s reduced to mumbles. She doesn’t let go of him, still telling him it’s okay, and still trying to soothe him by running her hand through his curls.

He doesn’t know how long they’ve been there by the time his tears finally dry up. Surprisingly, Mike hasn’t come hunting for him, but it’s probably time for him to get going. Even if he’d rather just stay here with Patty, the others are counting on him. Plus the sun is starting to go down outside the window. Reluctantly, he pulls back, “Thank you. I think I’ve cried enough for two lifetimes.” 

“Of course Stanley, I’m just happy I got to hold you again.” Her cheeks are wet but she smiles at him. 

He’s just happy he got to see her again, he’s missed her. When he stands, he towers over her, “You’ll stay safe? You promised me.”

“I’ll do my best. As I said, don’t worry about me. I’m a tuff old gal,” Stan grimaces, “But you have to make the same promise. And don’t hesitate to come to me for help, I’m always going to be here for you.”

Stan pulls her into another quick hug, “You don’t worry about me.” He can’t make a promise he doesn’t think he can keep. She doesn’t ask him again. 

They say their goodbyes. He almost doesn’t want to out of fear it may be a permanent goodbye, but at least this time Patty got to hear him say it. When this is all said and done and if by some miracle he’s still alive, he has to find a way to make it up to her. She deserves it.

When he exits her office, Mike is back inside, sitting at the pew where they were previously. He’s trying to clean the glasses lens with his shirt, looking frustrated too, but when he hears Stan coming down the stairs he plops them back onto his face and sighs with relief, “There you are! I was starting to worry I was going to have to bust in there.” He’s trying to sound funny but there’s a twinge of anxiety in his voice still.

Stan just rolls his eyes, “Yeah, captain Trashmouth to the rescue.”

“Hey! I was worried about you and you just call me names!”

“I call you names out of love,” Mike scoffs at him, “Come on, let’s get out of here.” He starts to head out of the synagogue. No dramatic exit this time. 

Mike scrambles after him as he pushes his way outside. The sun is setting, casting an orange haze on the city, and the evening chill has picked up. Time moves too fast here. He’s not ready to go back to the library, not yet. Wendell will only ask if he remembered anything about the ritual, which he didn’t and he still doesn’t want to but he wouldn’t say today was wasted. He got to see Patty again. 

“Sooo how did that go?”

He hasn’t stopped to think how strange that may have been to Mike. It makes sense Mike is curious, he hasn’t explained anything. He didn’t even remember Patty until a few hours ago. May as well fuck with him. 

“That was my wife. I guess my ex-wife now,” he keeps a straight face as Mike comes to stop, spluttering like a fish out of water. He spots a pharmacy on the corner of the street and chooses to not elaborate any further, “C’mon I wanna get some cigarettes before we head back.” He leaves without checking to see if Mike is following him. 

Mike hurries after him, “Hey! Wait a fucking minute! You can’t just say that shit and then walk off! Also, those are just going to kill you you know!”

Wow, Mike sounds a lot like Eddie. Stan laughs to himself.

-

Syd couldn’t get away from everyone fast enough. Every time she looked at one of them…she was plagued with what she saw in the deadlights. What she remembered. 

When she was in the attic, she felt It before It even appeared. The attic became freezing all of a sudden, she could see her own breath, and then she was ambushed before she could question the change of temperature. She still feels cold. If the others hadn’t shown up when they did, she’s not confident she’d still be here right now.

The face It took, the face of Bev’s father, his face still terrifies her. Honestly, she hadn’t remembered much, just a few details here and there, but seeing It brought it all back. She can remember the foul hands of Bev’s father on her. Syd clings to her dad’s dog tags as she stumbles down the street, not paying attention to where she’s heading. Her dad was kind, he was her hero, she has to remember him when the memories of Bev’s father threaten to overcome her.

Remembering Bev’s father wasn’t even the worst of it. She saw what Bev saw in the deadlights, how they would have originally died the first time if they hadn’t come back as adults. If that was bad enough, she saw what would happen to them if any of them left, if any of them decided to run away from their promise. She wasn’t lying, none of them made it out of their twenties if they fled. They don’t have a choice, they have to face It. But if they don’t figure out what went wrong during the ritual, they'll just die anyway. 

Her first instinct was to call Dina. Dina offers comfort and an escape but if she heard Syd right now, she’d be on the first flight here to help her and figure out what was going on. She wouldn’t understand what Syd was talking about, but she’d still be here. God, Syd loves her. That’s exactly why she can’t call her, she can’t drag her into this. 

Sonny has been a help, especially right after the attack. He had grounded her and given her something to hold on to. It was obvious he wanted to go with her after their conversation with Wendell, but she needed space, even if she was thankful to him. She can’t fall into old feelings, not with Dina around now. She needs time to try to process what she saw in the deadlights or whatever. What would her high school guidance counselor say now she wonders? Suggest for her to start journaling again? Bullshit, the last time she journaled she got outed to the whole school by fucking Brad.

Gradually as she walks she starts to spot more broken down buildings and the streets get dirtier. A homeless man is laying on the sidewalk, a blanket pulled tight under his chin. She knows exactly where she’s heading now, home. 

The apartment building where she grew up, or where Bev grew up, is abandoned. The paint has withered away and the windows are pretty much nonexistent at this point, leaving the insides at the mercy of the weather. The only color on the gray building is faded spray paint from vandals. The doors are open, barely still on their hinges, and they call to her. Inviting her to come explore what is left of her home once upon a time ago. She b-lines for the back of the building instead. 

Behind the building, the huge dumpster sits, right next to the stone fence and the back of the apartment. It creates a small sliver of space that if you’re small enough, you can crawl through the small opening to where the dumpster doesn’t sit completely against the wall. It’s a great hiding spot. She has to wiggle but she manages. The space is smaller than she remembers, but it makes her feel secure. She pulls her sweater over her knees and hugs them.

A sob tries to wrench its way through her chest but she holds strong, distracting herself by staring at a line of ants carrying grains of dirt back into a hole in the apartment’s wall. They create a red line, like the red lines that ran from Stanley Uris’s wrists in the bathtub. If he hadn’t come back as an adult the first time he would end up killing himself. Bev knew this and maybe Syd remembered that, is that why she’s always been protective of Stan? Why she clung to their friendship and at one point tried to convince herself she liked him romantically?

Bev also knew how the others died. Richie’s drug overdose, Bill’s aneurysm, Eddie’s car crash, Ben’s heart attack, and Mike- being devoured by It because he was forced to face It alone. Her throat tightens at Bev’s death. Years of being tormented by her father, only to marry an abusive man who inevitably beat her to death. 

Yes, Syd remembers Tom. Mainly the beatings that were always paired with harsh words. She doesn’t know whatever became of that bastard, she was too busy dying and being reincarnated, but she hopes he’s cold in the ground and rotting in hell. 

Their new reincarnated lives brought about all-new ways for them to die if they break their promise. Those she can remember in detail, too much detail. The way they had appeared in her mind was a shock to the system.

Wendell’s was the same as his past life’s death. Abandoned to face It by himself, again. “All by yourself Wendy boy? I guess your little friends never cared about you.”  Wendell doesn’t make it to the end of the year if they leave him. Driven mad with despair, Wendell would charge into It’s den, where Pennywise is waiting. It barely swallows when It eats him. It’s not quick.

Neither is Freddy’s death. Freddy would go back to Philadelphia, this trip and meeting everyone being nothing but a hazy memory. If they left, they all would forget, reducing It to just nightmares. Freddy would probably live on the streets, bouncing shelter to shelter until one day he got robbed in an alley. That part she saw. He didn’t own much but the gang of men took everything he had, even his crutches. Which they would beat him half to death with. Between the freezing temperatures of a Pennsylvania winter and the blood loss, a couple of hours later he would just be a frozen body on the sidewalk. He never made it to his twenties. 

Mike would never know how Freddy died. In the deadlights, she saw Mike hiking in the woods alone. He looked sad and she could tell he became a recluse after returning home. His hiking gear is heavy on his shoulders and she wanted to yell at him to drop it and run! That’s because she could hear the growling of the pack of wild dogs that were circling him. With his earbuds in, Mike was oblivious. The first dog lunges and takes out his ankle. Mike scrambles to get out of its hold, “Let me go! Let me go!” but it’s no use. Once he’s on the forest floor it’s all over. They shred him alive. 

Jacob’s death is at least quick since he does it himself. Maybe he got tired of always being an outcast, or maybe he’s tired of constantly being villainized. That’s an ironic thought, their brave leader was villainized to the point he was deduced to take his own life. Jacob’s dad is pounding on the bathroom door, begging him to open it. “Jake please, don’t do this! There’s another way! Don’t leave me!” He tries to kick the door down, but It was there keeping it sealed shut. It is always there when they die, it doesn't matter that they don't remember It. Jacob sits in the bathtub, twirling the gun around in his hands, ignoring his dad’s hysterical pleas. His scars look rubbed raw like he tried to claw them off of him but besides that, his face looks passive. He doesn’t stutter when he puts the gun in his mouth and eats a bullet. 

Would she have remembered Stan if they had left? She’s never thought about it, but if they went home, would she forget about him after she went off to college? Or would his death be nothing but another junkie oding report in the newspaper to her? If they left, Stan wouldn’t be able to cut it. One of the main reasons she stays is to make sure they keep their promise this time. She saw what he looks like in five years, strung out on drugs. Too skinny and never sleeping. One day he pushes his body too far. She sees him laid out on his basement couch, eyes wide open with a needle in his arm, foaming at the mouth. Blood Witch plays in the background.

Sonny is the oldest when he dies, twenty-six. Holed up in his home, working on his next innovation in electricity. The bags under his eyes are dark and he studies his notes, tweaking his invention without paying attention. His hair is greasy and he’s in dirty sleep clothes, and she knows that’s because he doesn’t have a reason to go out. His only friends are his inventions. His death happens in a second. He’s not paying attention and his hand brushes against a bare wire, electrocuting him on the spot. His body is charred and his eyeballs burst. It makes her want to scream.

Knowing her own death is just as bad as knowing how the others die. She’s with Dina and they’re studying together in the library. She doesn’t know what exactly happens, except her vision gets hazy and she falls out of her seat, blood pouring out of her nose and ears. “Oh my God, Syd?! Syd, stay with me! Somebody! Please! Somebody help us!” Her vision goes white but she can feel Dina clinging to her as someone else tries to perform CPR on her. Maybe a blood vessel in her head popped? She doesn’t know. Whatever it is, it was caused by It. Her death would be no freak accident.

But none of this is going to happen. It can’t. They’re all staying and they’re going to figure out what went wrong. And honestly, she doesn’t want to forget everybody. They were there for her, they’ve always been there for her. Especially for Bev. 

Syd curls tighter in on herself, refusing to let the tears fall. Emotionally constipated is what her mom calls her. She misses her mom and Goob. She will make it back home to them and Dina. She rests her head against the brick, she should head back soon but she’s not ready to leave her safe space, not yet. Her eyes start to feel heavy and she lets them fall close. She can head back after a nap, she's owed one. 

A/N:

I'll see ya'll next month

A heads up, Patty won't be the only familiar face we'll see pop up. Sorry in advance...

Yessss Ik Ik Stan and Syd's part were different lengths, its what the story called for I swear

Also I tried to reference the demadogs with Mike and Brad's death with Syd

Next chapter will be set this same day except with some ooey gooey kaspbrough friendship with a side of Eddie Angst

Also also thank you so much to everyone who reads and comments on this fic, it means so much to me, our fandom is small but it is great

[trashboytozier]

Love Will Tear Us Apart

I - Friday I’m In Love

Virginia Clark had just stepped out of the shower, hair still tied up to dry on top of her head, when her mother called her downstairs to answer the phone. She had rushed down the steps with one hand holding the towel around her body in place, already knowing who was calling and why and trying to hide the grimace on her face from her mom. Good news though: She didn’t even look her daughter’s way as she handed off the pale blue landline to the barely 18 year old, walking off to her room without another word. “Eddie,” Virginia whispered as soon as her mom was out of earshot. “You weren’t supposed to be leaving for another hour!” In the background of the call she heard loud laughter, followed by a soft thud and Eddie sighing through the line. “Yeah, well, Trashmouth has almost snitched on us twice already, and my mom is getting really sick of him.” Richie sounded off in the background again, and while she couldn’t hear his words she knew he was saying something about how Mrs. K could never get sick of a stud like him. Eddie didn’t even pause to listen to him. “We’re about to leave in five, okay?” She looked desperately down at her still-wet body and huffed. She didn’t have a choice. “Okay, whatever. That’s fine, Eds.” “For the last time, V, don’t call me that!” But she had already hung up, turning and hurrying up the stairs to try to get dressed in the barely 10 minutes she had before the boys ( her boys , as she called them) to get from Eddie’s house to her bedroom window.

She made pretty good time, clipping back her hair to dry and shrugging on an oversized white shirt and pajama shorts before staring into the mirror on her nightstand and trying to put on just enough mascara and lipgloss that the boys wouldn’t notice she did it. She had never thought she was a very pretty girl, but she tried her hardest to make her dark eyes and barely full lips stand out. She was pulling on a pair of socks when a small pebble rapped against her window. Yanking them up to her knees, she hobbled over to the window, quickly brushing her long, brown hair in front of her shoulders. She took a deep breath in her chest, sliding it open and peering down at the boys standing next to the oak tree next to her window. “Hey, losers!” She called down softly, and they both laughed as Eddie grabbed the ladder that was nailed to the trunk. Virginia’s father had built her the treehouse when she was 13, all long legs and freckles, the summer the two boys climbing up and inside it were hanging out in sewers and abandoned houses. Her dad didn’t want her out in the streets, so he built the house for her to play in without leaving the neighborhood. Now, five years later, its back window, little more than a square hole in the wall, led to a thick limb that ended right at her bedroom window. “Stop! Richie, that’s not funny, you dumbass!” Eddie half-screamed from inside the treehouse, in response to some torture Virginia hadn’t witnessed. “I could have fallen and broken something!” Slowly, the small boy climbed through the small window, carefully walked a few steps, and eased in through the windowsill. He wore his own set of pajamas: A pale blue t-shirt and long pajama pants with a small squiggly pattern. He smiled at Virginia, and she pulled him into a hug, his head pushing into her chest. “I missed you, Eddie!” She said as she squeezed his shoulders and he laughed into her shirt. “I literally saw you three hours ago!” “I know, but I still missed you.” And she had. Eddie was her best friend in the whole world. They had matching pastel pink friendship bracelets. He had spent almost every weekend at her house since freshman year, and she had even been the first person he told when he decided to come out to his friends last year. She had been so excited to hear it (even if she had already known for months) that she had bought every teen girl magazine from the store by her house and they had filled out “Does he like you back or is he just a nice guy?” quizzes for hours. They just clicked, and they looked like it too, her baby pink socks contrasting with the light blue green and yellow of his pants as they stood hugging in her bedroom. “All my music’s on the desk over there. Pick a good one for us, okay, Eds?” She suggested, and he walked over to the corner of the room, thumbing through the cassette tapes stacked in neat piles. Each one in the first three piles was labeled in sloping, loopy cursive, Virginia’s signature penmanship, and Eddie smiled a little at the sight of it. The first tape in the last pile, though, sported a messier, block lettering. There were small stars drawn in the corners of the label. “A SUMMER SOUNDTRACK BY TRASHMOUTH TOZIER” was scribbled across it. Eddie didn’t notice the corners of his mouth turn down as he picked it up and read the next beneath it - “BEEP BEEP BABY” and the stars were replaced with messy, rushed hearts. He felt his palms begin to sweat. Beneath that: “FRIDAY IM IN (DEEP SHIT)”. Eddie turned back to the piles before, that song by The Cure humming in the back of his head, having heard it a million times around Richie himself.

Virginia sat down on her bed, clasping her hands over her legs and placing her chin on her knees as Richie’s long, lanky legs and arms rusted their way inside the window. She giggled a bit at how ridiculous he looked, and he grinned at her, eyebrows raising at her skinned knees. “Been using those too much, huh, Virgin- ya?” He teased, using her least favorite nickname. She frowned up at him. “If I had, you’d never know,” She answered, bouncing a little in place as the shaggy haired boy threw himself down into her mattress. He was still wearing the same clothes he wore to school that day: a plain white tee underneath some ridiculous Hawaiian shirt with bright pink flamingos on it and dark jeans. He kicked off the same pair of combat boots he had worn for the last two months straight as she turned to Eddie. “You got anything yet?” “Sure do,” Eddie called back, popping in a tape and sitting beside Virginia on the edge of the bed. Softly, their shared favorite song by Joy Division played through the stereo, and the next few hours all blurred into the soft, fuzzy remembrance of a teenage good night. Eddie laughed when Virginia stole Richie’s glasses and did a spot-on impression of him. Richie stood up after four songs and took control of the music duties, which neither V nor Eddie minded, as they could both have listened to his guitar-heavy wistful love songs all night long. Virginia painted her and Eddie’s fingernails, shut up Richie when he started to pick on the smaller boy for the pale pink polish, and even convinced him to let her paint a single nail - his right middle finger. When it was finally 2 in the morning, she yawned, long and hard, which made the other two boys yawn, longer and harder, and everyone agreed it was time for bed. Eddie and Virginia both did their best not to look as Richie stripped down to his boxers and t-shirt, both of their breath hitching in their throats.

For months, when she first started sneaking the boys into her room on Friday nights, Eddie and Richie both would be exiled to the floor, which a single pillow and scratchy blanket each. Then, after a while, Eddie would share a bed with Virginia and Richie would sleep next to them on the floor, sometimes crawling up onto the mattress in the night when he couldn’t sleep. Now, over a year later, they all piled up in her queen sized bed together, a mess of limbs and body heat - Eddie on the far right clutching a pillow to his chest, Virginia in the middle rubbing her soft, cold feet against each other until she drifted off into sleep, and Richie on the far left, farthest from the door, with Virginia’s hair spread across the pillow before him, filling his senses with the smell of coconut and fresh strawberries. Virginia pretended not to notice Richie’s hands inching underneath her shirt. They never did anything under there, surprisingly, just warmed themselves against her rib cage, and she felt more comforted by them than threatened. Eddie pretended not to notice Virginia’s soft snoring in his ear or her tendency to wrap her leg around him in her sleep. Instead, he found himself trying to pick out the sound of Richie’s breathing, his lungs labored from the cigarettes he smoked every day now. Richie pretended not to notice a lot of things, but most of all he ignored the way Eddie would peek over his shoulder at him every few minutes, big brown eyes catching his and then fluttering away. Virginia never looked back at him, no matter how hard he blew her hair out of his face or pinched the back of her ankles with his toes. She would always just kick him softly with her heels, a silent acknowledgment and discouragement in one. As they all drifted off into sleep, Eddie realized with his last conscious thought that Richie had put on the “FRIDAY IM IN (DEEP SHIT)” mixtape as that oh-so familiar song by The Cure started on the stereo, just loud enough to hear. Richie’s hand on Virginia’s stomach twitched, and his knuckle brushed Eddie’s back through his thin cotton tee. He pretended not to notice that, too.