Tumgik
#idk if anyone will read these but they're here now whoo
Text
Tumblr media
(gif credit: @virtsmoir )
i realized i’ve never actually properly addressed this, but i’m bucketofrice from ao3! hi! i figured this would be as good a time as any to set that record straight. 
i posted a super random drabble based on the above gif on twitter a while back, and i figured i’d put it here too, for posterity’s sake. it’s under the cut, in case rpf isn’t your jam (along with two extra ones). ✨
laugh-cry
The noise of the crowd is deafening, and he’s struggling to hear or think or compute what is happening. His heart beats wildly in his chest, and all he knows is that this is it. He and Tess skated the best they ever did, and it has to be enough.
Her hand in his is his anchor, his lifeline, the only thing keeping him on the ice. He thinks he’d be floating up in the air by now if she wasn’t there, somewhere between the jumbotron and the ceiling. The roar of the crowd and the blood coursing through his veins is interrupted by a sound coming from his side. No way.
Ever since he’d heard it the first time in Vancouver, eight years and a million miles ago, he’s counted it amongst his favourite things in the universe. Tessa’s laugh-cry. He resigned himself to the fact that he’d never hear it again a while ago, that it was a rare and precious comet that only crossed past earth once.
But no. The laugh-cry is back and the sound of it fills him with so much love he might burst. Every note, every tremulous shake is music to his ears, and he turns to her, his smile so bright it could light up a small village. They really might’ve done it.
without words
I support you, he says without words as he replaces her empty mug with a steaming cup of coffee, gently squeezing her shoulder and looking at the stack of books she still has to get through for this paper with admiration.
I hear you, she says silently, as she slowly loosens the reins on their public displays of affection, because he’s always been tactile and she hates to see him try to change himself to fit the narrative she made for them.
I admire you, he says every single day, as he tells her to chase her dreams and keep doing all the things she wants to explore in life. He’s there for her first forays into choreography, at all her launch events, by her side at two in the morning when she’s so frazzled by the logistics of it all that she thinks she’s losing it, one email at a time.
I cherish you, she says through countless kisses, every time he stays up late to hear her talk about her day, even though he’s bone-tired from the rink. When he cooks them dinner and fusses about her eating her greens. When he reminds her to indulge a little and brings home plenty of chocolate on his weekly supermarket trips.
I love you, they both say, every day, in countless ways. In stolen glances, soft caresses, forehead kisses, kind gestures. I love you and I want you in my space. After twenty years, words are no longer necessary.
lily
They’re walking hand-in-hand, all three of them together, Tessa and Scott holding Lily’s little hands in their own. They swing her back and forth, and she lets out a delighted giggle.
“Higher, higher!”
“Alright, bug, but be careful,” Scott says, looking at Tessa before they swing her just a little further, just a little faster. Lily squeals and kicks her tiny feet in the air.
As they round the corner, they hear the telltale sounds of an accordion filtering through the air. An older man is sitting on a stool, his hat upturned on the pavement, playing a merry tune. He looks at Tessa, Scott and Lily and smiles a knowing smile, giving them a nod.
Scott takes his cue, glancing over at Tessa and then down at Lily.
“Ladies, may I have this dance?”
Lily nods her head vigorously — she’s only three, but she’s a Virtue though and through, already taking ballet lessons and eager to dance every chance she gets.
Tessa just smiles at Scott, the love and devotion evident in her gaze. She would never turn down a dance with her husband — her partner — not for as long as she lives.
As the tempo of the music slows down, Scott hoists Lily up on his hip with one arm and wraps Tessa up in the other. He starts them off in an easy swaying rhythm, side-to-side, oblivious to the passerby that have gathered to watch the scene. Pretty soon, there’s a small group standing by the man with the accordion — couples dancing with each other, children goofing off, and Scott, Tessa and Lily in the middle of it all.
They keep dancing like that for what feels like forever, in the middle of the street at sunset, just the three of them in their little bubble, happy and glowing and together.
10 notes · View notes
har-rison-s · 5 years
Text
ask me why
IT: CHAPTER TWO SPOILERS!
request: I love your stan fics!! could you possibly write a sad, angsty one where the reader and stan were childhood sweethearts and they move away and forget each other because of the magic of derry and then when she comes back she’s heartbroken over his death. maybe the scene where they are in the neibolt with the spider-stan(😭😭) and she freaks out and has like a panic attack because she realises he’s not there to help her anymore? idk if that makes sense? thank you either way❤️keep the stan coming!!
A/N: Oh, my goodness. I am the reader and the writer in this one, my feelings are one with her on this one. Oh, god... I'm heartbroken. Also school is tomorrow and I hate gooooiiinnnng but I gotta. Anyways, hope you like this and that it's what you're looking for! Happy reading!
warnings: death, grief, panic attack, descriptions of blood and suicide. Take tissues cause this is very emotional, trust me. Get ready.
IT masterlist
main masterlist
heaven masterlist
Tumblr media Tumblr media
gif credit goes to owner, which isn't me!
“The bathtub.” Beverly says into the phone before Patty can. Beverly realises that what she saw twenty seven years ago had happened. What a tragedy. She thinks of how Patty feels and then glances over at Y/N, who waits for Bev to end the call and tell everyone what Patty said. How ever will she tell her? It'll break her heart, it will break the girl herself. “Patty, I'm so sorry, honey. You can call anytime, alright?”
“I'm sorry, I have to go.” Patty tells Beverly and hangs up. Beverly puts her phone in her pocket and turns to her friends. All their faces awaiting, impatient and nervous of what she might say. Is it true what the fortune cookies told them or is IT playing tricks on them? 
“Stanley's gone. In--In the bathtub. There's blood everywhere, Patty said.” Beverly says, but she's looking at Y/N while she's talking. Her face falls. Her eyes empty in a second, looking hollow and abundant. Everyone gasps and mutters words of shock and disbelief. In her ears, everything fades out and she can only hear his voice. Stanley.
“Let's go swimming.” He turns to her with the biggest smile. She tilts her head to one side. “I won't scare you, I promise.” Stan raises his arms up in mock defense. She sighs.
“Okay, fine.” Y/N agrees and raises to her feet. The pair lock hands, taking steps towards the lake, skipping here and there. They're both smiling at each other. Y/N leans towads Stanley's shoulder with her head, resting it there and humming. 
He didn't scare her in the water for the first time. He usually tells her there's something big underwater and when she looks under to see if there is indeed something, Stan would grab her thighs and she'd scream. No more of that, he said to himself after Y/N told him she's starting to get scared of the water.
She feels her heart being crunched up by someone's hand. Fate, it could be. But it's IT. IT is responsible for this. For all of this. 
Her lungs collapse, too. Y/N feels like she can't take breaths anymore, like she never will. Feels like her lungs have closed down, stopped working. Like they're filled with water or something even heavier. Like there's never going to be air in her lungs, like they're filled to the brim. Never possible of saving.
She opens her mouth to try and breathe, but she's hiccuping, coughing almost. 
Stanley. Stanley Uris. Her Stanley. 
The most beautiful boy she's ever layed her eyes on in her whole life. Anyone she saw as a person of potential interest in her so-far life was lacking something, she realises now. One thing. They weren't him.
His radiant smile that made her smile when she didn't feel like ever smiling again, when she had forgot how to. Lightened up the room and shone like the sun. Made her feel like there was nothing bad in the world. 
His voice. The boy could sing, but only she knew that. He never sang in front of anyone else, none of his friends. Only her. And she loved it.
He thought he was bad at singing but God, did he sound like an angel. He was very insecure about it, that's all.
“Sing what you want to. I wanna hear it, whatever the song!” She beamed, resting her head in her hands, her elbows on Stanley's desk surface. Stanley sighs, sitting in a chair not so far from her and his desk. He looks down, lip bitten, deep in choosing the song he could sing. 
“Okay, okay,” he says, lifting his head and breathing deeply in and out, preparing himself, “but don't laugh.” Stan points a finger at Y/N. She shakes her head.
“I would never, baby.” She says. “Go ahead.”
Stan takes a breath in and out and, after a few more seconds, starts finally singing. “I love you, whoo-hoo-whoo-hoo, cause you tell me things I want to know,” He sings. He doesn't look Y/N in the eyes as he sings, he focuses on one of the furniture facing him. He's so shy about it, “and it's true, whoo-hoo-whoo-hoo, that it really only goes to show...
“That I know, that I, I, I, I should never, never, never be blue-ooh!” He hits the highnote perfectly. “Now you're mine, my happiness still makes me cry. And in time you'll understand the reason why if I cry, it's not because I'm sad. 
“But you're the only love that I've ever had.” He looks at her at once. Because he means the words, wants to sing them to her, wants to tell her those words. They're true. 
Y/N smiles wide, happy tears in the corners of her eyes. Stanley smiles wide and rushes over to her. He kneels before her and his face is mischievous, up to something.
“I can't believe,” he resumes singing, a theatrical facial expression on his features, which makes Y/N giggle, “it's happened to me. I can't concieve of anymore,” he extends his arm in the air, “mi-se-ry!” He exclaims, a mock-brave and determined look on his face. As if he was playing Superman, who's flying through the air after saving a particular girl form danger. 
Y/N giggles histerically, looking at Stanley and holding his other hand. He drops the act and leans closer into her face. Not too close, not that intimate. At least not yet.
“Ask me why,” he sings quieter, “I'll say I love you,” with each verse, he gets closer and closer, keeping their eyes locked on each other, “and I'm always thinking of you...” Stan drifts off and kisses her on the lips tenderly, sweetly. Just like he sang a second ago. 
Her knees buckle in, her feet give out. Gravity or rather, horrible pain and grief, takes over her completely and she's falling down to the ground. In the street, between her friends. All of them immediately get closer to her, huddle around her. 
They see the terrifying look on her face. It's everything mixed. Pain, memories, grief, terror, fear, anger, longing... It's all in there, in her wide, wide, as-big-as-buttons eyes. Mouth agape. She looks just like a person having a stroke would look. And her friends are actually scared that she is having one.
“Y/N!” Beverly calls to her, hoping to get her out of this horrid and scary trance. Ben pushes Y/N in a sitting position from behind so she wouldn't be laying on the wet, dirty ground of the Derry street. 
She gasps and hiccups and tries to regain control over her body and brain. But her mind can't help but go back to the best memories of her childhood. And her body is completely out of order, out of anyone's control. Her friends try to shake her, bring her back to them pysically first. 
The only thing they get from her before Y/N completely shuts down, is one word. “Stanley.” It's a quiet whisper that they barely heard. It was like a mutter between her lips, something meant for only her to hear. 
Her wide eyes close instantly and her mouth, too. She's limp in Ben's and Beverly's arms. “No! Y/N!” She exclaims, afraid something serious has happened to her. Some sort of internal, physical damage. But she's having a very pleasant dream, unconscious to her friends.
“Let's see that!” Stanley takes her sketchbook from her, making Y/N gasp and pry after her book, her pencil still in hand. 
“I'm not finished!” She exclaims, but it's no use. Everyone's huddled around Stanley holding her sketchbook and already looking at the new drawing she really has not finished yet.
“Oh my God, that is so pretty!” Beverly says.
“I'm the prettiest one, of course, thank you, Y/N.” Richie boasts. 
“Then I shall draw your horrible witch nose bigger, Rich!” She says and the kids both stick their tongues at each other, mean faces showing. Y/N comes closer to Stan holding the book.
Everyone's gasping and pointing at themselves in the artwork, saying how alike the drawing is to real life. And though Y/N loves the compliments and thanks them, she really needs to finish the piece so that it could be even more prettier and perfect.
She puts her hand firmly on the sketchbook and pulls it towards herself. Stanley looks at her with his delinquent famous smile and holds the book tight in his hands.
“Give it back, I need to finish it.” She requests. Stan takes the book closer to his chest. 
“What will I have for that?” He bargains and she narrows her eyes at the boy. 
“If you give it back,” she starts, “I'll give you the whole book. For your own exploitation.”
“Come on! We're hoping for something more enticing, Y/N!” Richie cries and Eddie hits his arm, despite snickering.  
“What about a kiss?” Stan suggests and Y/N lets herself smile at him. She throws herself at him, kissing him hard on the lips as they both smile wicked smiles. 
“Ew!” Everyone exclaims upon the action and turns away from the couple. 
“Guys, they're so cute.” Beverly cheers, but everyone boos her, already finding new things to do. Beverly laughs to herself and turns back to her book in the hammock. 
Stanley and Y/N pull apart, smiling and looking at each other with heart eyes and looks of pure gratitude and appreciation. Though their friends exclaim in disgust whenever the two show a bit of affection towards each other, they really love them and can't help wishing for the same kind of love in their lives. They're happy for the most loving best friends in their group, very happy.
“Guys, she's waking up!” Eddie calls out to his friends once he sees Y/N opening her eyes slowly. He hopes she's really waking up, not just a flutter of the eyelids in-between dreams or nightmares. Richie, Bill, Mike, Beverly and Ben come up to the hotel's lounge sofa where Y/N is laying, now conscious. 
“Hey, honey,” Beverly tries to smile at her. She takes Y/N's hands between her own, “how are you feeling?” She asks.
“I would love not to answer that question.” Y/N says and sits up. Her friends sigh, somehow relieved by her answer and her healthy look. “How long was I—how long ago—” She can't seem to form the question she wants to ask.
“A couple hours.” Eddie answers her un-finished question. “Do you need some Advil or Morphine?” He questions. Y/N furrows her eyebrows at the man. 
“No, thanks.” She says. “So, what are we doing, what's our plan?”
“Well, since Beverly has seen us all die,” Richie starts to say, oblivious that his words might trigger tears and intense emotions in Y/N. Unwantedly, tears start dripping down onto her sweater and jeans in hot streams, “we need to kill the stupid clown this time. Otherwise, we'll die. Just how Bev's seen us die.”
Y/N sobs, pulling her knees to her chest and letting it all out. She sobs and she cries and she hiccups and she wails, heartbreaking sounds for her friends' ears. 
“I don't care.” She cries. “I don't care. I'll die, then. I don't care.” She shakes her head, repeating the phrases over and over.
“Well, that was my plan.” Richie admits. 
“We can't let you die, Y/N.” Ben tells her. But she doesn't listen. She doesn't want to hear support or any positive comments from anyone now.
“Listen, Y/N/N,” Mike starts to say, sitting closer to her, “there is a way to kill him. For real this time.” This is what makes her look at Mike, or look at anyone, really. He's caught her attention. Is it true?
“Trust us, Y/N. W-W-We can end IT he-here and n-now.” Bill joins in. She looks at him, she looks at Beverly, she looks at Ben, and Richie and Eddie. They're all nodding. Quite sure that there really is a way for them to get rid of this horrid creature that's ruined so many lives. Finally do it. And they get to do it. 
No one will know it if they do, no one will congratulate them and put crowns on their heads and give them flowers. But it doesn't matter. They'll be heroes to themselves and to the people who have lost everything because of this stupid killer clown. If they succeed and don't die in the process.
The whole point was to find an artifact from your childhood here. It had to be burned. Y/N's was a portrait of herself that Stan did. He tried really hard. And she doesn't want to burn it now. 
She sat in the clubhouse alone, after everyone left, crying. Full-out sobbing and wailing in her deep sorrow. She was completely spent after it, save Pennywise spooking her out of there, the portrait crumpled up in her fist tightly. 
IT thought it'd be funny to portray itself as Stanley who was drowning in his own blood and almost taking Y/N with him, if she hadn't ran up the stairs. It's not real, it's not real. Her fear was drowning and losing Stanley. And the fact that one of them came true is just so unacceptably sad. Devastating. (A/N: I want to cry.)
She layed in the grass above the Clubhouse for however long she needed to calm down and pick up her broken pieces, mentally and physically. She slowly rose to her feet and started her way back to the hotel. She thought she saw Bowers on her way back, but she told herself she's just mistaken the man for Bowers. But, when Eddie came out of his room with blood gushing out of his cheek and said that Bowers is in his room, she realised she wasn't mistaken with who she saw.
After an argument and Richie trying to flee the town, the Losers Club reunited and bravely went back into the Neibolt house to kill IT once and for all. Y/N was scared, hollow, but with the realisation and perk that she had nothing to lose anymore. She had lost the most important thing in her whole life. Nothing can be worse than that.
They were a mess. Not five minutes into the trip in Neibolt and they had split up, everything was in shambles and they couldn't get a hold of themselves or each other.
Y/N was crouched down, turned inwards, in the corner of the must-have-been kitchen. Her head between her hands and her eyes on Stanley. Or Stanley's head. The one that now had spider legs grown out of it. His eyes are... horrid. No sign of life or love or anything good. Death, hate, anger, maliciousness. None of these qualities were something that Stan ever contained.
Tears are streaming down her face in a quick pace, scorching her cheeks and eyes, irritating the skin. Her throat is already dry from the screaming and crying for the past twelve hours. It hurts to cry, but it hurts to see... this weird Stanley Uris. She can't help but cry.
Her love. Her life. Her only love ever. The boy that was ready to give her everything he could give from him. The boy who was ready to show her the world, who was ready to take the moon and stars from the sky if she ever asked, the boy who was ready to protect and love her like no one else could ever try.
He's dead. He's dead because of IT and its wrath and its toll on Stanley. How unfair. How unfair for IT to do this to such a caring, innocent young boy. How dare he. Stanley had done nothing wrong in his life to get this end. Stanley hadn't done anything wrong for something or someone to bite him back in the form of IT, a killer clown or a weird-looking woman. 
She's filled with fury. She's still crying, still bawling and moaning in emotional pain while her friends are in panic. Stanley's spider form is not getting off Richie. Bill is trying to help him, Eddie's in another corner, frozen in fear, as well. God, he can't even help his friends. He's so scared. His fear and traumatic memories have been so repressed and now they're coming back in a second's time, all at once, and hitting him in the face like a brick. Quite physically.
Y/N picks up a spike from the floor. She figures it must be laying there since Pennywise got it out of his head when Beverly stabbed him. Twenty-seven years ago... When Stan was still alive... When they were all in one piece. Her face twists in utter anger and she growls, almost. Eddie's eyes flicker over to her, scared of her, too. He hopes she's not another form of IT.
Y/n holds the spike in her hands so tight it makes her hand hurt. But she doesn't care. She must do this. At least this. She staggers over the room to where Richie, Bill and Stan's head are with the spike in her hands and, upon reaching them, immediately starts hitting the damn spider-head with the spike's sharp end.
She's screaming and crying and calling IT names, calling the entity out for what he's done, for what he is. Her every emotion is spilling out into each hit and each word and spit of her tongue.
Richie and Bill start screaming, and Y/N tries hard not to hit Richie in the process. The spider-head grows weaker and falls off of Richie, who now has a very bloody shirt. Bill helps him get up, and the men both watch Y/N completely destroying the spider-head with the spike. 
She's yelling, she sounds like an animal, there's anguish and rage. The only things they see existing in her. Blood is everywhere, the head is screaming, as well, blood and guts and brains and pieces of spider-legs everywhere. Horrid, disgusting scene all around.
The moment the head is hit to complete pieces is when Y/N finally groans out, relief in the groan, and drops the spike. She collapses on the floor next to the destroyed head, her hand on her stomach. 
That was a big thing. A big step. In stepping over her fears and in starting to get over Stan's death. If she's ever capable of that. 
“Y/N!” Bill and Richie go over to her, helping her stand up. Eddie's in terrible shock from everything he's seeing, he can't move.
“I'm fine, guys, I'm fine. That just took a lot of strength.” She says and takes a few deep breaths, panting as the two men hold her by her sides and back supportively. 
“You're a fucking hero, Y/N.” Richie says. She doesn't say anything, and nor does anyone else for a while. Richie and Bill exchange looks, thinking the same thing.
Y/N could destroy a thing that looked exactly like the love of her life. While her fear is losing him, Stanley dying or just... going away in any other way. She is so brave. Much, much more brave than the two of them combined, at least now. She is so, so brave and strong. She could be the main key to destroying IT when they get to the layer.
A/N: Maybe this was very dramatic, but just... imagine being in the Losers' place. Imagine it, just... swim deep into the thought and concept. It couldn't be otherwise.
Permanent taglist:  @gabiatthedisco @v0idbella @inlovewithmiddleagedcelebs @works-of-fanfiction @destiel-stucky4ever-loki-queen @stfxlou @ur-gunna-h8-ths @empressdreams @betweenloveandfire @but-legendsneverdie @deardeacy @thewinchesterchronicles @mavieesttriste16 @mrsmazzello @benhardyseyes @langdonzvoid @intrrverted @the-freak-cassie-131
Stanley Uris tag-list: @nightbu-g​ @sadhwstudent​ @shawni-h​ @gothackedalready
237 notes · View notes