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fans-of-fiction · 8 years ago

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Birds Don’t Float, They Fly - Stanley Uris x Reader(IT)

This is honestly the best shit I’ve ever written. Not to sound pretentious, but for once I’m proud. ok enjoy <3

Prompt - Stan’s loved you since you saved him from Bowers, but he was never able to tell you until Stan and the Losers have a brush with It. You’re the only one who can calm Stanley down after he’s attacked, giving him the chance to express his feelings.

Warnings - Swearing (you know, Richie), sex references (that trashmouth),

A/N - Told from Stan’s POV. There’s a flashback in the timeline. Italics = Internal Thought. ‘Italics+Quotes = Past Quote.’ You’re a part of the Losers Club, hun. <3

Words ~ 5341

Summer 1989

The wind whipped past my ears and pulled at my button-up as we⎯minus Bill⎯biked to Neibolt. My feet were spinning around the gears of my bike faster than I would have liked, but I told myself it didn’t matter if Bill was going to hurt himself trying to fight this imaginary monster. We all turned down Neibolt Street like a flock of Geese that began migrating too late in the season, flying with speed for fear of what would happen if we stayed where we were.

Arriving at the withering building, Beverly spotted Bill walking up the front steps and began to yell for him. “Bill! Bill, you can’t go in there alone!” She skidded her bike to a halt, hopped off, and let it hit the street with a metallic clank.

I stopped my bike, got off quickly, and threw the kickstand down. As soon as I looked up from the pavement my eyes locked with Y/N’s and for a second I forgot about the dark threat of the house. I’d fight any made-up monster if it gave me the fucking courage to ask her out. I wish I had done it the first day I met her, but Bowers had made me feel like such a pussy that I don’t think I’d be able to give Bush the time of day.

Spring 1989

School had just let out so the hallways were empty, but somehow I managed to walk down the same one with Henry and his goons. In every other situation, I would have walked away, but Victor Criss had found a dead robin outside and those assholes were kicking it around with their engineer boots. I wanted so badly to turn and leave but Belch Huggins had delivered a kick so nasty I had felt it in my own gut.

“Hey! Leave the bird alone!” I squawked loudly enough to interrupt their laughter. The words hung in the air, unbelonging, like a burp in a silent Bar Mitzvah.

Henry turned to me with a look in his eyes that screamed he was in the mood to break something bigger than a bird and he yelled with such ferocity it was nearly a screech. “You wanna take its place, fucker? Want us to kick you around instead?” Belch and Victor laughed at Henry’s witty slap, but I wasn’t laughing. I could already feel the sweat dripping down the back of my neck. They were maybe forty feet away. If I run now, I thought. Maybe I’ll have a chance.

So without wasting any time I turned and bolted, sprinting down the hallway with two thoughts in my head. Don’t get caught by Henry and Fuck, my lungs hurt. Is this how Eddie feels? I ran as fast as my feet would carry me, ducking down hallways. With one hand on my kippah, I turned around a corner, hoping that the soles of my shoes held up, which they did. They carried me around the corner but not the girl carrying her books. I managed to crash right into her. Books flew and folders opened, dumping papers everywhere as she threw her arms up in surprise and discontent.

“What the-” She yelled angrily, staring down at what was once in her hands. She looked up at me and our eyes locked, giving her time to survey my terrified expression and finish her complaint. “What the fuck, dude.” She said, slightly softer, less angry. “Who are you running from, bolting down the hallway like that?”

As if they heard her ask, Bowers’ footsteps grew louder. “Come here you Jewish freak!” Belch Huggins yelled. I turned around expecting to see Bowers. Suddenly it was as if someone pressed the fast-forward on my life. Everything sped up and I knew that if I got caught I’d be dead meat, but something stopped me from running.

I turned back to the girl, not wanting to leave her with the mess I made, but when I looked at her again, any trace of anger had fled from her face. Instead, it was a look of pity, with an almost unnoticeable undertone of fear. “Bowers?” She asked quickly, but quietly. I nodded. She looked behind me, behind herself, and then to her left before talking again. “Get in a locker.” She could see that I was confused, so taking my hand in hers she pulled me to the lockers. “If you trust me, you’ll get in and you’ll stay quiet.”

She let go of my hand as I got in. I felt a sudden emptiness below my wrist as if she took my own hand with hers before closing the door. I could see through the slits in the metal that she quickly knelt beside her papers, just in time for Henry to nearly run her over. All three of them came close to taking a tumble but they managed to stop and simply stare at the mess.

“Jesus, Bowers,” She spoke, but the voice wasn’t hers. At least not the one that I knew. She sounded so full of confidence and typical disgust that if I had my eyes closed I would have assumed it was Greta Bowie. “Late for your tea party?”

Victor scoffed. Belch giggled. Henry glared. “Where’d he go?”

“Where’d who go, Henry? Your boyfriend?” Henry stepped forward onto one of her papers and began to talk but Y/N put one hand flat on his chest and pushed him back slowly. I was taken aback by her courage. It was like I’d been looking at Y/N in the dark and someone just threw open the blinds. I saw how her face curved and how her hair flowed. All of a sudden I wanted nothing more than to throw open the locker door, grab her by the waist, and pull her in close, but the gang was still there, so I was still trapped.

Victor and Belch began to look agitated, like Henry was fanning the embers under their asses. “We’re looking for Stanley Urine.” Victor squeaked. I winced at the mocking name. They’d been using it since the third grade. I didn’t want Y/N to know me as Stanley Urine, the cowering boy she shoved in a locker. No, not like that. “Real ugly, Boy-Scout lookin’ thing. Seen Him?”

Y/N’s voiced adopted a fresh tone of shock. “Wait,” She held her hand up above her head, palm down. “‘Bout this tall, pressed shorts, curly hair, running like a maniac?” I furrowed my brows in confusion. What was she doing? All three stared at her with reignited rage bubbling in their veins. They nodded their heads furiously. “That asshole came barreling around the corner, knocked my books out of my hands, then took off.” Suddenly it made sense. She was playing them like harp strings.

Belch spoke first. “Where the fuck did he go then?!”

Y/N raised a pointed finger and directed their attention to the exit doors twenty feet in front of her, in behind them. “He skid out those doors. Looked like he was heading for the East field. Playground maybe.”

Without saying another word the bullies took off. Before throwing open the doors, Victor turned to Henry and yelled too loudly for his own good, “That’s the one you like, Henry?” Who only retaliated by giving him a swift kick in the ass before grinding up the dirt of the east field.

Y/N stuck her tongue out and made a retching sound before walking over and opening the locker I was in. I must’ve looked pathetic cause she let a little chuckle echo through her nose. “Sorry I called you an asshole. I had to play into it.” She was being genuine. For a second I wondered why she bothered to help me at all, but she brought me back to reality with her soft, calm voice. A voice too calm for someone who just went toe-to-toe with Bowers. “It’s Stanley, right?”

I chuckled and managed to talk. “Yeah, Stanley Uris. But my friends call me Stan.”

Y/N smiled. “I’d love to hold that honor, Stan.” She laughed. “But I knew it couldn’t have been Urine.”

That time we laughed together, then I noticed her books and papers were still scattered. “Here,” I offered, kneeling. “Let me get these for you.” I expected her to stand while I handed her papers, but she knelt down beside me. Occasionally we would reach for the same paper and our arms would brush⎯Y/N, I thought⎯ or we would look up at the same time and lock eyes⎯Y/N Uris, I thought.

We had collected everything and stood up in unison before Y/N spoke again. “Thanks for helping me collect my things.” She said quietly, almost bashfully. Was she being shy? In front of me? But not Bowers? You’re so confusing, I thought. I think I’m in love. “Well, I guess I should head on my way then.” She said, softer this time. As if she didn’t want to say it at all.

“Oh,” I choked. “Yeah, me too.” We both nodded but remained stationary, neither willing to move away. Even if you can’t ask her out, don’t let her go, Stupid. “Actually,” I said with the last sliver of pride I had after that fiasco. “I’m going to meet my friends in the barrens. If you have nothing better to do, I’m sure they’d love to meet you.”

Y/N smiled so hard her eyes crinkled. “I’d love to, Stan.”

So we walked to the West entrance, away from Bowers and his goons. I flicked up the kickstand of my bike and with Y/N sitting on the handlebars, we were off to meet the losers.

We found the group in the usual spot and I explained what happened at the school. Most of the story was made up of Richie’s commentary, but everyone fell silent when I told them how Y/N handled Bowers

Bill spoke first. “Wuh-well, it’s n-nice to m-m-meet you, Y/N.” He stuttered.

“Mhmm, it’ll be nice to have another girl in the group.” Beverly joked, elbowing Eddie, who continued to stare.

“Yeah,” Ritchie pulled his glasses from his face and wiped the condensation off on his shirt, looking Y/N up and down. “I agree.”

Y/N was beginning to blush, but something Beverly said stuck out in my head. “In the group?” I repeated. “You mean, you guys are cool if she-”

“Joins the Losers Club?” Mike interrupted. “Please do.”

The Losers murmured in agreement and Y/N smiled. It was one of the wide ones that made her eyes crinkle.

And so we were eight.

Summer 1989

“Stan, would you stop staring at Y/N and come grab a stick?”

I turned to Eddie, my eyebrows furrowed in frustration, my cheeks red in embarrassment. He matched my expression and then threw up his eyebrows, as if to say “Yeah, Stan. I can do that too. Now get over here.” I turned to Y/N. She smiled and shook her head before walking past me to the huddled group of losers.

Mike had found and cut eight tiny sticks, all at different lengths. “Everyone chooses a stick. Longest stick stays watch. Deal?” Everyone nodded and murmured mhmm.

Richie was the first to draw. The twig he drew was about the length of his pinkie. “Fuck.” He mumbled as he turned his head to the house. He looked up at it as if the dark, solemn house was a librarian, peering over his shoulder to find him drawing dicks on the cover of Lord of the Flies. Richie shook his head. “Man, I can’t believe I pulled the short straw. You guys are lucky you’re not measuring dicks.”

“Shu-sh-shut up, Richie.” Bill stuttered.

Y/N chuckled and everyone’s heads turned. We stared because for the first time in forever, laughter felt foreign. None of us had laughed in so long. Too long. We were all so intimidated by what may or may not lie in that dead house that we forgot to have fun. Isn’t that what summer’s all about? Having fun?

Y/N noticed everyone’s eyes and promptly figured out why they were staring. “You guys know what?” She said, boldly, in her Greta Bowie voice. “I’m not scared of this house. I feel the same way about going into this house as I feel about doing homework. Sure it’s daunting, but only cause I have no clue what the fuck’s going on. But once it’s done, I can enjoy my summer. And that’s what I intend to do.” She reached towards the small bundle in Mike’s hand and pulled out a twig. It was half the size of her forearm.

“That’s the longest one,” Mike said. Half appalled, half annoyed.

“Well, fuck.” She mumbled. I chuckled. It felt odd, like a forced burp, but I chuckled. Then I laughed. Y/N looked at me and began to laugh too. Then Richie. And Beverly. And suddenly the losers were laughing. All of us were laughing in the dead brush of the Neibolt property, totally forgetting any burden we carried. We felt like kids again.

Though none of us were passionate about running into crackhead houses, but we could now all agree that we’d be happy to go in together. Ben took a deep breath. “I guess that settles it. Y/N stays watch, the rest of us go in.”

The group nodded, and though the mystery contents of Neibolt should have been my priority, I couldn’t take my eyes off Y/N. Even in the face of death, I thought. She’s just so stunning.

Death. The word tumbled around in my head like a brick in a dryer, before I clenched my fists and pushed it out. There is no monster in that house, I assured myself. No death. No need to worry, Stan. Don’t be fucking stupid. With a deep breath and another glance at Y/N, I took up the front steps of Neibolt, leading the losers.

“You go, Stanley the Manly.” Richie chirped smugly. “Let’s go fight Count Chocula.”

I turned around, unable to leave Richie uncorrected. “We’re not going to fight anything, Richie. We’re going to prove that there is no monster.”

Richie only chuckled and put on a British accent. “Right sir, good ‘ol chap. Let us go. Pip pip cheerio.”

I put my hand on the cold doorknob, twisted, and opened the casket on fear.

Neibolt smelt damp and dark, as if the cellar grew and consumed the whole house. The dust on the windows tinted the sun orange, so that what little light made it through illuminated the floor in a warm, dead glow that resembled a rotting pumpkin.

The group of losers was the only source of heat in the house. “I feel like this place is sucking out my soul,” Eddie said quietly, as if he was afraid something would hear him.

“Are you saying you would rather have it suck your-“

“Richie!” Eddie yelped, only no one laughed this time. Eddie was right. There was something about this house. Something dark.

I clenched my fists again. Don’t be stupid, Stan. Something like that isn’t empirically possible. But then I heard it. It sounded low and soft, like a woman humming a sick child to sleep. The humming flowed through the air and into my soul, so that it no longer sounded like humming. It was my mother shouting my name. It was my scout leader calling us in. It was Ms.Douglas, a curled finger pointing at my chest, commanding a solution out of me, and I had no choice but to answer.

I followed the sound as if it was a trail of candy and I was a little child lost in the woods. Any traces of my friends were blurred in my mind by the filter of pure and simple curiosity. I trailed out of the foyer and down a long hallway before I lost the sound entirely. I turned my head, spinning in circles trying to pinpoint the tune, but it was gone. It wasn’t until I spun to face the way I came before I heard the creaking. I turned to face the door again. The creaks and groans sounded unnatural, fake, as if they were playing through an old walkman. But then the knob began to turn.

It spun to the left, then to the right before making a final full turn to the left. It’s Richie. My brain exclaimed, unaccepting of what it what seeing and hearing. This isn’t real. It’s just Richie. It’s a prank. It’s not real, Stan. It’s not-

The door made a sound that resembled a dying cat as the old bolts wailed together, struggling to hold up the ancient wooden door as it swung open slowly, regretfully. As if the door knew it was releasing something bad. Something evil.

You’re being stupid. There’s no evil. My thoughts cried. Stand your ground, Stanley. Be a man.

The door stopped opening. No light shone through. The room that lay beyond the door was dark and draining. ‘I feel like this place is sucking out my soul.’ Eddie had said. All I could do was agree with him, though I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to agree with Eddie, because admitting that this hell-hole was draining the life out of me was admitting that I was scared.

Turning away from the open door, I began took a quick step down the hall before I saw her. Y/N. Standing at the end of the scuffed, peeling floorboards. She was standing still, looking at me as if she were scared. Seeing her in here made me feel worse than any evil could. Imagining that this house could bring her pain opened up a black pit deep in my stomach, allowing a red-hot ache to flow over my insides. If this dark, decrepit house even dared to bring her fear, I’d burn the whole thing down.

“Y/N?” I called quietly, concern bleeding through my fake confidence. “Y/N aren’t you supposed to be on watch?”

“I couldn’t stay there, Stan.” She cooed. “Not without you.” I was so distracted by her silky voice that I almost didn’t notice how unnatural she sounded. Her voice resembled the creaks and groans. Fake. Not real. But like the humming, it was enticing. Moving towards Y/N was like moving towards road-kill. If you really valued your peace of mind, then you would stay away…but in the end, curiosity grabs you by the balls, and you do anything but stay away.

“Why would you want to come in here?” I joked in an effort to mask my own fear. “This garbage dump is the last place I’d want to be.”

She took a step closer to me. She was so close that I could smell her shampoo. I could have kissed her if curiosity would give me my manhood back. “It’s no dump if you’re here, Stan.” She was practically singing, and I didn’t mind.

“Ha, uh. Yeah.” I mumbled. “Did someone take your place? I’d hate if the police found us snooping around-”

“We don’t have to worry about adults, Stanley.” She interrupted. She wasn’t singing now. She was nearly whispering through her teeth. She put one hand on the back of my neck, the other under my arm placing it flat on my back, pulling me in. “No one’ll find us here, Stanley. No one. We won’t be found, Stanley. No no no.”

She trailed off as she rested her head on my shoulder, but with each sentence she sounded less and less real. It was as if her voice were coming through the radio and someone was slowly turning the dial to the static grey area in between stations. The feeling of worry began to bleed through the admiration. Y/N was no longer a source of heat. I could feel her change in my arms. She became the same dark emptiness that was draining Eddie. Draining me. Draining all of us. Y/N became Neibolt.

I quickly tried to pull away, but Y/N tightened her grip. Her arms were clamped around me, unyielding and ungiving. She spoke again but there was no music left in her voice, no tune, no hum. It was all static. All darkness. “We don’t need to leave Stan. We can stay. We can float. We’ll all float. We’ll all float!”

I yelped and squirmed and twisted in her grip. The sweat that made its way through my button-up made me just slippery enough. I gave one final twist, working my arms under hers. I ducked my head and pushed her back, throwing her off.

No. No, it wasn’t her. The carcass that stood in front of me wasn’t Y/N. It looked like her. Exactly like her. Except her eyes were glazed over, frosted like a sheet of ice over a dead animal. The skin on her face wasn’t radiating her characteristic glow, it was grey, dead, peeling from her face like sheets of slush off a poorly shingled roof. There was no life in her chest. Instead, her missing sternum revealed her open ribcage where black, rotten organs resigned. They looked like vegetables my mother had once left on the front steps. Our cat had gone missing, but my mother figured that if she offered food and wished hard enough, it would come back. But the cat never did, and instead, the vegetables rotted and turned black and mushy, leaving a stain of failure in front of our house.

It was only looking down at my hands that I noticed the blood and chest tissue that covered my fingers. I screamed and kept screaming. I couldn’t stop forcing the sound out. I screamed so hard that my diaphragm hurt. I figured the force and the stench of Y/N’s rotting corpse would make me puke, but somehow I kept it down. I wouldn’t have cared if I puked. I could have thrown up a kidney and I wouldn’t care, because all I could see was Y/N. It was her voice I heard. It was her corpse I saw. It was her blood that coated my hands, and it was real. It was all real.

I stared and screamed some more. I could hear the losers yelling but it was all so distant. Y/N was so close. So close and so real. So real. “Come float with me. Won’t you, Stanley?” She whispered. She was quiet, so quiet, but her voice was a shriek.

And so was mine. I screamed, one final time, and then the world went black.

When I woke up everything was shaking. Bobbing? I turned my head to find Mike’s chest. I glanced at my feet and found Ben and Beverly, each with a leg in their arms. The losers were carrying me.

“Hu-hey, g-g-guys!” Bill managed to squawk. “S-Stan’s awake! P-Put him d-down on the g-guh-grass.”

I felt them put me down on the grass. It tickled the back of my neck but I didn’t care. I looked straight up at the sky. The sun stabbed at my eyes, but it also warmed my face. It made me feel warm. Alive. She’s not alive anymore, my head screamed. I think Eddie asked me a question. He was muttering something about concussions, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t give two shits. Y/N was dead. She was my cat. Gone.

When I closed my eyes I could still see her hair, glowing under the fluorescents that illuminated her and Bower’s gang. I could still feel her warmth and smell her perfume and I remembered that one Friday night in June. The losers were having a sleepover, but I had a nightmare. One that I can’t even remember now, but it shook me to the point of tears. Y/N had woken me up and pulled my head softly into her chest. “It’s okay, Stan.” She cooed, as if I was an injured baby bird. “It was only a nightmare, Stan. It wasn’t real. It wasn’t real, Stanley.”

If I listened hard enough I could still hear her voice. ‘Stan.’ I could hear her call. ‘Stan. Stanley.’ “Stanley!” Suddenly I opened my eyes. “Stanley open your eyes. Oh! Stan look at me. Look at me, Stan.” My eyes were frantic. It took a few seconds for my brain to process what I was seeing. It was Y/N, standing above me. There were tears streaming down her cheeks. “Stan? Stan! Holy shit I thought you were over the hedge! What happened in there?”

She wasn’t real. She couldn’t be real. Her blood, Stan. The blood. That was real. I sat up, screamed and pushed myself back. It wasn’t Y/N. It couldn’t be Y/N. I stared at her. I stared and stared, expecting her to die in front of me again. The static spun around and around in my head like a demonic merry-go-round. ‘We’ll all float. We’ll all float.’ “We’ll all float,” I muttered.

Y/N looked so concerned. If that was even Y/N. Could it be? Was there any empirical way? “Stan, what-”

“You said we were all going to float.” I wheezed. “You’re dead, Y/N. You were dead.”

Ben stepped forward. “Stan, what do you mean?” I turned my head and stared at him. I was frantic and he must have seen it because he looked down at me with pity.

Beverly put a hand on his shoulder. “Y/N never came inside until you screamed, Stanley. By the time she got to you, you were unconscious.” Some of the losers nodded, the others murmured mhmm’s.

I turned back to Y/N. More tears trailed down her cheeks, wetting the canals that led to her chin and down her neck. She stretched a hand out. I didn’t take it. I couldn’t take it. My world was upside down. “That’s impossible.” I croaked. She took her hand back. “That’s not possible. You were-” I could feel the tears welling up my eyes. They started to trickle down my hot cheeks. “You were dead, Y/N. I felt you in my arms. Your eyes, your face, your-your-” I stared down at my hands. They weren’t clean on account of all the dirt, but there was no blood. No stains. No trace of Y/N. I started to cry harder. I looked up at her again, my eyes cloudy with water. It was as if I was looking at her through the bottom of a coke bottle.

The tears had stopped falling down her cheeks when she knelt beside me. She extended her hand out again. Palm up, as if offering something. A little sanity maybe. “Feel my hand, Stan.” I kept looking at her. I blinked tears out of my eyes so I could see her fully. Clearly. I looked at her hand. I was so reluctant. I was scared that if I felt her hand the skin would peel off and It would happen all over again, but there was something about her now. There was no static in her voice. It wasn’t tainted with a hum either. It was just her. It was Y/N. Could it be Y/N? It had to be. I think.

It was the uncertainty that was rotting inside me. For the first time in my life, I didn’t know. I had always known before this. Before Neibolt. Before It. I knew how to treat Poison Ivy. I knew not to fuck with Henry Bowers. I knew I was in love with Y/N. But now I didn’t know if she was even real anymore. I didn’t know if what I was seeing was real. I didn’t know if I should cry tears of joy because she was alive or cry myself into madness because she was worm-food. I didn’t know. I had to know. I had to find out, so I took her hand.

It was warm and inviting. It was real. This was real. This. Y/N smiled. That was real. She offered her other hand. I took it. That was real. Real. Real real real. She was real. It was almost too good to be true. “But you said we were going to float, Y/N. You were in there. I couldn’t have imagined it, Y/N. It was so-”

“Real?” She let out a chuckle. It was out of place but I didn’t argue with it. “All of our nightmares feel real until we wake up, but you’re awake now, Stan, so good morning. It’s 92 degrees in sunny Derry, Maine. A great day to go biking with friends and forget about death houses.”

I chuckled. She always knew how to make me forget what I needed to forget. Forget things like evil houses. Death houses. Dead dead houses. She was dead. “You were dead,” I mumbled. The panic was beginning to bubble violently now. It was sloshing over my bearable limit, over the rim of the pot of my life. “We’re gonna die.” I choked. “We’re all going to float. We’re gonna-”

The words stopped. They wouldn’t come out. I heard Richie make a gagging sound, but it was distant and I was distracted by Y/N anyway. She was close. So close I could have-

I knew why the words wouldn’t come out. Y/N had grabbed me by the collar and pulled me in. Her lips were locked to mine. I could smell her shampoo, her perfume, her chapstick. I could feel her warmth. I could feel her nose against mine. I could see that her eyes were closed. She meant this. She was real and she meant this. So real.

She pulled away and her eyes fluttered open. Those stunning eyes. They weren’t dead. They weren’t iced over like dead-meat in a freezer. They were as vibrant as ever and they drew me in. I was in such a trance that I almost didn’t notice her speak. Her voice was a sweet melody that reminded you of a warm summer day, just like this one.

“We won’t float, Stan. Never. You, me, the losers. We’re birds, Stan. Birds don’t float, they fly.” Y/N stood up. Taking my hand in hers, pulling me up off the dead acidic soil. “So how about we fly?”

I smiled. It was a genuine smile. Y/N had rekindled the fire. My heart burns there too. “You’re right.” I walked over to my bike, the losers watching me carefully. I kicked up the kickstand, threw my leg over, and checked my watch. “Ice-cream shop’s still open.”

The Losers club erupted in cheer. Ben ran to his bike and hopped on with surprising agility. Everyone else jogged to their bikes, pulled them up off the road, and got ready to take off. Everyone except Y/N, who walked slowly over to my bike. She stood bashfully beside me. I was close enough to kiss her. She spoke very quietly. “I’m sorry if that back there was…um. Well if it was-”

I leaned forward and pressed my lips to hers, finally managing to cherish the kiss now that I wasn’t half dead myself. “I’ve wanted to do that since the first day I met you.”

Y/N chuckled bashfully. “I know.” She leaned in and kissed my cheek. Softly but surely. “Me too.” We both smiled at each other before she leaned in close again, only this time she didn’t kiss me. She only whispered in my ear. “Race you to the Ice-cream shop.” and with uncanny speed she hopped on her bike and sped off, the two of us leading the Losers Club in a mad dash on wheels. We forgot all about Neibolt speeding down that street, Bill triumphantly yelling “Hi-ho, Silver. Away!”

And down Neibolt street, through Derry, away from all the fear and the pain… we flew.

I love you all with my life and I want you to know that the IT imagines aren’t stopping here!

Peace out girl-scouts!

Love, E

(fans-of-fiction)

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itimagines · 8 years ago

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Something About You (Richie x Reader)~Part One~

The bells…

That’s how you knew IT was near. You’d hear these soft small bells ring.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

Then IT’d say your name, softly the first time but if you didnt respond it’d scream it in your ear.

The clown was many things but patient was not one.

It’d kept you around for longer than most of it’s victims after it’d failed to do anything more than interest you.

After your father had killed your mother and nearly murdered you before being shot by sheriff Bowers there was nothing that could frighten you.

That part of you had died along with most of your feelings, so when the sheriff had brought you to live with him and his unstable son began to taunt and leave bugs and other things that normally terrified young girls, it hadn’t phased you.

Neither did the clown who posed as your father and dragged you from your bed at 3 in the morning.

The clown grew frustrated after shifting into multiple horrid things at the lack of a reaction, throwing you back and snarling in your face finally, but you just sighed.

“You need a breath mint” you’d huff before crossing your arms over your chest and turning your face. The clown blinked in response before backing away.

“You’re a very odd child, arent you” IT asked, sitting in front of you. You’d only shrug in response and stare until the clown frowned with an extremely confused look on his face before disappearing back into the darkest corner of your room and your “father” coming in demanding you keep it down and forcefully pushing you back into bed.

You thought that would be the last you saw of IT but much to your dismay IT returned and visited at least twice a week, though you didnt say much to each other; just examined and stared.

IT eventually began to ask you to do specific tasks and much to your own surprise you did them.

Not because you were afraid or liked the odd entity, only because brought some kind of excitement into your life, a little emotion when you felt completely empty.

You began to develop a system. You’d hear the bells and know IT was here, with a new task for you to complete. You could only wonder what IT wanted from you this time.

“Y/N” IT called, almost inaudibly, standing a few feet away, on top of a desk. You turned your face and nodded once towards IT to confirm you were listening and keep the demon from yelling. Noone would hear it of course but it left a ringing in your ears that was unpleasant to say the least.

“Ive got your next task. This will be the last thing I ask of you before my long rest so listen closely and DONT fail” IT appeared in front of you and grabbed your face after emphasising the ‘dont’. You simply nodded once again in agreement, which the clown grinned at before letting your face go.

“I need you to lure a group into the sewers. They call themselves The Losers Club” IT practically spit the title out as though it were a bad taste in IT’s mouth.

“They’ve been a real bother. But I’ve got my little wild card. My little Y/N! You’ve got a month to get them inside by any means necessary. I can handle from there.”

You’d heard of them. Your “brother” terrorized them regularly with his friends. You’d never been in charge of luring anyone anywhere, only helping fix the neibolt house and create pathways inside to make it easier for the clown demon to make it his own.

You furrowed your eyebrows as to say how but IT only snickered and pat your face twice. “You’ll figure it out kid” And with 3 soundings of bells IT was gone. Soon after the bell rang and you were collecting your things and stepping out into the hall.

This task would prove interesting to say the least. But would you really be able to pull it off?

(Not sure if I should continue this but we'll see🌸)

#it2017 #itimagines #richie tozier x reader #richie tozier imagine #richie tozier #pennywise #pennywisethedancingtheclown #derry #mike hanlon imagine #mike hanlon x reader #mike hanlon #henrybowers #henrybowersimagine #bill denbrough imagine #bill denbrough #bill denbrough x reader

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bowersgangobsessed · 6 years ago

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Cuddles and Confessions

Richie Tozier x Reader Fluff! Richie lays on my chest, arms wrapped around my body. I play with his hair, my fingers running through his soft, black curls. I start to gently run my nails across his scalp. A small purr rumbles through his chest, I giggle under my breath. “That was adorable.” He smiles against my skin, eyes closed in a dazed trance. “I love you.” I freeze, and Richie tenses. He sits up, looking at me, stammering. “I mean... Uh... You know... As friends...?” I stare at him. “No you don’t.” He chuckles nervously, I smile at him. “I love you too.” A smile breaks across his face, I tackle him in a hug making him fall backwards on the bed.

#it #itmovie #it2017 #richie tozier #losersclub #bowersgang #itimagine #the losers club #finn wolfhard

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multifarrious · 8 years ago

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Requested by anon.

Dating Stanley Uris Moodboard.

#stanley uris #imagine #stanley uris imagine #the losers club #the losers club imagine #it #it 2017 #stephen king #moodboard #preference #request #itimagine #wyatt oleff #would include

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random-imagines-blog · 2 years ago

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Movie Masterlist

In an attempt to organize the blog and keep everything in order, masterlists are being made to join together into a masterlist of masterlists to make it easier for those on mobile. Thanks for being patient!

Smut is indicated with a ⭐

The Maze Runner

Imagines

Imagine Thomas not wanting to lose you now that he found you.

Imagine music being the only thing that you can remember, so you enlist Newt into making a band with you.

Imagine training with Newt.

Imagine telling Newt what you would do if you were together in a fantasy world.

Imagine stealing Newt’s clothes while he is bathing.

Imagine Newt refusing to leave you when you’re injured.

Imagine remembering your favorite song and singing it to Gally.

Imagine being the only person that Gally will listen to.

Imagine a chill coming through the maze, so Minho makes you a fire.

Imagine Minho denying all of your ideas, not because they aren’t good, but because they might put you in danger.

Imagine Minho refusing to leave you behind.

Imagine Teresa threatening anyone who comes near you.

Imagines

Imagine making faces at Bill Denbrough whenever you catch him looking at you.

Imagine Bill Denbrough using things you’ve said in his novels.

Imagine Eddie Kaspbrak being scared of your affectionate dog.

Imagine Eddie Kaspbrak getting nervous before a flight.

Imagine Beverly Marsh introducing you to Richie Tozier and Eddie Kaspbrak.

Imagine always trying to be the one to make Richie Tozier laugh, and not the other way around.

Imagine Richie Tozier dealing with dreams of Pennywise hurting you.

Imagine protecting Richie Tozier from Henry Bowers and his friends.

Imagine being Bev’s sister, and Ben having a thing for you when you all return to Derry.

Imagine hiding out in the library from your ex Henry Bowers, and Mike taking care of you.

Imagine being Stan’s study-buddy.

Repo! The Genetic Opera

Imagines

Imagine the Graverobber coming across your grave.

Imagine Grave Robber causing a distraction so you won’t get caught.

Imagine Luigi Largo taking you to a show.

Imagine Luigi Largo getting mad after hearing someone talk bad about you at the renaissance fair.

Imagine Pavi Largo putting on his best face for a dinner with you.

Imagine helping Pavi put the make up on his new face.

Imagine catching Pavi Largo with the Genterns.

Pirates of the Caribbean

Oneshots

Kiss The Girl (Will Turner)

Nothing (Will Turner) ⭐

House of Cards (Will Turner)

Imagines

Imagine telling Captain Jack Sparrow that you’re leaving to join the crew of another ship.

Imagine star-gazing with Captain Jack Sparrow.

Imagine Will Turner sensing your insecurities.

Imagine Will Turner being terrified of a life without you.

Imagine Will Turner bartering with Captain Jack Sparrow for your safety.

Interview with the Vampire

Oneshots

Gallowdance (Lestat de Lioncourt)

Vampiretown (Lestat de Lioncourt)

Le Roi (Lestat de Lioncourt)

Nightlife (Lestat de Lioncourt)

Walk Among the Dead (Louis de Pont du Lac)

Imagines

Imagine Lestat helping you through your first few years as a vampire.

Imagine Lestat getting turned on while watching you hunt.

Imagine doing what you can to get Lestat’s attention.

Imagine discussing your upcoming wedding to another vampire with Lestat, and his childish response.

Imagine Lestat commissioning a statue in your image.

Imagine Lestat de Lioncourt watching over you in your sleep.

Imagine a jealous Lestat seeing a vampire trying to flirt with you.

Imagine finding yourself hypnotized by Lestat’s good looks.

Imagine Lestat confessing his love.

Imagine Lestat informing you of his love.

Imagine Lestat choosing not to turn you until you grow older - then being with you when you are an adult.

Imagine having a miracle child with Lestat.

Imagine being Louis’s sibling, and Lestat falling for you.

Imagine having been there to help with Lestat’s transformation.

Imagine refusing Lestat’s offer of being a vampire.

Imagine being a witch, and being married to Lestat.

Imagine being in a love triangle with Lestat and Louis.

Imagine teaching Louis and Lestat about modern life.

Imagine being a member of the Théâtre des Vampires, and befriending Louis De Pointe Du Lac.

Imagine dressing up in your finest for Louis de Pont du Lac.

Imagine Louis helping you through the transition.

Imagine Louis de Pointe du Lac finding out that you are a witch, but loving you nonetheless.

Imagine Louis Du Pointe Du Lac saving you from a vampire attack.

Imagine marrying Louis de Pointe du Lac.

Imagine ignoring Louis after a fight.

Queen of the Damned

Oneshots

Emerge (Lestat de Lioncourt)

Vampire Heart (Marius De Romanus)

Imagines

Imagine being the bassist in Lestat’s band, and him having a thing for you.

Imagine Lestat watching you play your favorite instrument.

Imagine Lestat saving you from a vampire attack.

Imagine Lestat helping you with your first real loss during your vampire life.

Imagine Lestat turning you after choosing you over Akasha.

Imagine being someone from Lestat’s past, come to haunt him.

The Chronicles of Narnia

Oneshots

Eyes Half Closed (General Glozelle)

Imagines

Imagine Mr. Tumnus taking you to his favorite wildflower-covered meadow.

Imagine finding Narnia and the first being you meet being a particular faun.

Imagine Edmund being so frustrated that he can’t kiss you, he nearly explodes.

Imagine King Edmund finding you lost in a cave.

Imagine showing Edmund Pevensie how fearless you are.

Hellraiser

Imagines

Imagine Pinhead inviting you to his own personal Hell.

Imagine bothering Pinhead by summoning him in odd places.

Imagine Pinhead personally ‘taking care’ of an abusive ex.

Imagine Pinhead loving the agony he gives you when he is affectionate.

The Lost Boys

Oneshots

On the Edge (General Lost Boys)

Imagines

Imagine taking Edgar Frog out to relax after the events of The Lost Boys.

Imagine taking care of Edgar Frog after vampire hunting.

Imagine being Sam’s twin sister, and Edgar Frog immediately having a crush on you.

Imagine walking into the Santa Carla comic-shop.

Imagine Alan Frog developing a crush on you after finding out about your extensive vampire knowledge.

Imagine being a horror comic collector, which catches Alan Frog’s attention.

Imagine Paul getting jealous whenever Marco gives you attention.

Imagine Paul falling for you.

Imagine playing with the tourists with Paul.

Imagine surprising your boyfriend Sam with a visit to Santa Carla.

Imagine drawing Michael and putting it up in the ‘hotel’.

Imagine being cute, innocent and a bit ditzy, and dating the Lost Boys.

Imagine dating the Lost Boys, and having sensory overload issues.

10 Things I Hate About You

Imagines

Imagine Patrick Verona being your baby daddy.

Imagine Patrick Verona finding out you’re pregnant with his child.

Imagine kissing Patrick Verona.

Final Destination 3

Imagines

Imagine Ian McKinley hiding out from death with you.

Imagine Ian McKinley staying with you to protect you from death.

Night at the Museum

Imagines

Imagine your wedding dance with Ahkmenrah.

Imagine being accidentally locked inside the museum and meeting Ahkmenrah.

Star Trek

Imagines

Imagine throwing Leonard McCoy a surprise party.

Imagine being stuck with Leonard McCoy on a foreign planet, and having to take care of one another.

Wanted

Oneshots

Rip Out The Wings of a Butterfly (Wesley Gibson)

Imagines

Imagine waking up Wesley Gibson by kissing his neck.

Imagine getting married to Wesley Gibson.

Imagine telling Wesley Gibson you’re in love with him.

Imagine Wesley Gibson helping you through your nightmares while you help him with his.

Imagine Wesley Gibson helping you with your anxiety.

Imagine going from being Wesley Gibson’s enemy to his lover.

Nightmare on Elm Street

Imagines

Imagine Freddie always coming to your nightmares for comedic effect.

Jurassic Park

Oneshots

Hysteria (Henry Wu)

Imagines

Imagine having feelings for Dr. Henry Wu and trying to get him to stop the experiments.

Inception

Oneshots

If Ever (Arthur)

Surface (Arthur) ⭐

The Last Story Ever (Arthur)

The Last Story Ever Part 2 (Arthur) ⭐

Imagines

Imagine Arthur having a nightmare.

Imagine Arthur making sure that you have good dreams rather than bad, while you’re going through a hard time.

Imagine being an architect on Cobb’s team and Arthur falls in love with you.

The Mummy

Oneshots

Death Comes at the End (Rick O’Connell)

Imagines

Imagine Ardeth Bay gifting you one of his favorite weapons.

Imagine possessing a relic that is helpful to Rick O’Connell.

Imagine Imhotep being surprised that you have feelings for him.

Halloween

Imagines

Imagine Michael Myers hating it when you swear.

Scream

Oneshots

The Impaler (Billy Loomis & Stu Macher) ⭐

All of the Feelings (Charlie Walker x FTM!Reader) ⭐

Imagines

Imagine pleasuring Stu Macher with your chest and mouth. ⭐

House of Wax

Oneshot

Cards on the Table (Bo Sinclair)

Revenge of the Nerds

Imagines

Imagine overhearing Arnold Poindexter talking about how much he likes you.

Imagine Poindexter asking you out.

Imagine sticking up for Arnold Poindexter when the Alpha Betas try to take his violin.

Imagine being the first female in Tri Lambda Lambda.

Imagine being best friends with Lamar Latrell.

Imagine Booger sticking by your side as you explore the Lambda Lambda Lambda house.

Sherlock Holmes

Imagines

Imagine raising a little girl with Sherlock Holmes.

Imagine getting arrested with Sherlock Holmes.

Unfriended Dark Web

Oneshots

Crimson Day

Imagines

Imagine being part of Matias O’Brien and Amaya DeSoto’s wedding party a few years after all of the events.

Imagine saving Matias from being buried alive.

Mission Impossible

Oneshots

Lights Out

Imagines

Imagine being sick, and Ethan Hunt taking care of you.

Imagine being so stressed out on a mission, you keep forgetting to eat, so Ethan Hunt steps up to make sure you do.

Imagine Ethan Hunt patching you up after getting hurt on a mission.

Imagine being married to Ethan Hunt.

The Scorpion KIng

Oneshots

Blood From A Stone {Mathayus x Reader}

Imagines

Imagine being a Prince, and the Scorpion King’s lover.

Imagine becoming Mathayus’s lover while secretly sabotaging his attacks.

Imagine making love to Mathayus in a desert oasis you found while traveling together.

Glass

Oneshots

Imagines

Imagine being a spectator to a fight between David Dunn and The Beast.

The Mist

Oneshots

Imagines

Imagine talking down David Drayton from his final act, until the military arrives.

Van Helsing

Oneshot

Imagines

Imagine being Dracula’s fourth Bride and trying to seduce and feed on Van Helsing.

The Last King of Scotland

Oneshots

Love is a Place to Hide {Nicholas Garrigan x Spouse!Reader}

Imagines

Stardust

Oneshots

Curses Boats and Stars (Tristan Thorn)

Imagines

Imagine Tristan Thorn stopping you from crossing the wall.

The Abyss

Oneshots

Taller Than A Smokestack (Hiram Coffey)

Imagines

Saw

Oneshots / Stories

Pull The Thorns From Your Heart {Adam Stanheight x Reader} {Part i}

If There Is Light, It Will Find You {Adam Stanheight) {Part ii}

Imagines

#movie masterlist #masterlist

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petersparkerss · 6 years ago

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Honestly one of my favorite scenes in IT Chapter 2 *SPOILERS*

#it spoilers #Itchapter2 #finn wolfhard #reddie #it #itimagine #finnwolfhard #it richie #adult richie #richie tozier #it chapter 2 #it chapter one #pennywise #richie tozier imagine

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cutie-holland-blog · 7 years ago

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I’m Here (Richie Tozier)

A/n: inspired by the scene in Stranger Things Where Jonathan stays in Nancy's room. P.s- Richie shows more of a softer side in this.

Y/n sat on the big rock looking out into the fields as her friends began to leave. Each of them saying a farewell. They had just made an oath to come back if it ever did. Y/n sat there heart racing and her hands shaking from the traumatizing event. She looked over and noticed Richie was still here.

He sat down beside her and she looked at him. He looked different, his eyes downcast and he wasn't talking. She looked down at her hand which was still bleeding from the blood pact.

"I don't wanna go home Richie." Y/n said feeling the tears begging to swell up in her eyes. "I don't wanna be alone." Y/n continued now feeling the tears fall. Richie then put his arm around her shoulder to console her. "I can stay with you to keep you company." Richie replied biting his lower lip nervously. Y/n nodded and then smiled at him weakly.

The bike ride was filled with a comfortable silence. Y/n kept seeing all those floating kids and It, who's face was carved into her brain. The warm sun was beginning to set as Y/n's house came into sight.

Y/n led Richie upstairs to her room. He looked around at the scattered papers on her desk and books laying around. Y/n went into her closet and pulled out some extra blankets. She took a pillow from her bed and handed it all to him.

"I'm gonna take a shower." Y/n said and Richie nodded. Y/n grabbed her pajamas and headed into her bathroom.

Y/n closed her eyes and sighed as she felt the warm water cascade down her body. The water was cleansing every scary thought. Every time she closed her eyes she kept seeing her friends getting hurt especially, Richie. She didn't even realize that she began to cry.

She finally got out the shower and put on her pajamas. She looked at herself in the mirror and noticed her puffy eyes. She sighed and then headed to her room. When she walked in she saw Richie laying on the floor already under the covers.

He looked at her, he didn't have his glasses on anymore which made his doe eyes more noticeable. She immediately looked away not wanting him to see her red and puffy eyes. She crawled up into bed and Richie leaned over to the lamp. "Leave it on." Y/n said quickly and Richie just nodded.

They both laid there in silence until Y/n finally sighed. "You can come up here....if you want to." Y/n said slowly and Richie immediately got up.

She scooted over and he got under the covers with her. They both laid an inch away from each other looking up at the ceiling. Y/n then heard Richie sniffle, she looked up and noticed that he was wiping his face with shaky hands.

"Hey, it's ok." She said and then she leaned over and wiped the tears that kept falling. He then began to let all his emotions out without a care. Y/n then pulled him into her arms. He laid his head on her chest as he cried.

"I'm here." She murmured into his ear as he sobbed. "I'm here." She repeated and then kissed him on his forehead.

A/n: Wow, this made me depressed. Hope you enjoyed it tho XD

#richietozierimagines #itimagines #itmovie #it #it2017 #richietozier #richie #tozier #finnwolfhard #finn #wolfhard #wattpad #finnimagines #finnwolfhardimagines

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ravishmeclownboi-blog · 7 years ago

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If pennywise came rolling out of my fridge

#pennywise #pennywiseit #pennywisetheclown #pennywiseimagine #pennywise the dancing clown #daddywise #clowndaddy #clown fuckers #cluckers #clownfuckersunite #clownfuckersunite pennywise x reader #pennywise headcannon #you x pennywise #bless #it2017 #itimagines

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dangerousreputation · 8 years ago

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All I ever need - Richie Tozier

Hi! Can I request a Richiexreader imagine where you two are a couple and you return to Derry 27 years later to defeat Pennywise again and you reveal to him that you're pregnant?

There will be two parts to this bc this is long asffff and i didnt mean to make it this long lol but i hope yall like it :) feel free to request or send me feedback

warnings: swearing, IT, idk basic stuff based off of the movie so i guess this is scary?? idk

Your hands shake with so many emotions, you couldn’t even process that this was happening. With two little pink lines covering the white paper, you held the pregnancy test between your fingertips and your mouth agape. The doctor told you that it would be less likely to get pregnant as you got older but this was a sign from the heavens.

“(Y/N), (Y/N!)” you hear Richie’s raspy voice call out to you.

In that moment, you decided to keep it a secret - the pregnancy - and shove the test into a nearby drawer.

“I’m coming, I’m coming, what is it?” You repeat, jogging down the stairs. Judging by the eagerness in his voice, it must’ve been impotent.

He turns to you as you emerge from the staircase with wide eyes. His hair was more tousled than normal and his phone was encased in his palm. His eyes where wide with his eyebrows raised above them and his face was visibly paler than normal making your stomach clench in anticipation.

“Its back.”

Your stomach dropped at the awful demon’s name. His voice sounded a mile away and laced with fear. This brought you back to when you were 13 and even though this was the year you met the love of your life, it was also the most traumatic year of your life.

You walked hand in hand down the familiar road that your shared house was built on before you moved away from this haunted city. Everywhere you looked, small fragments of memories raced through your mind, some of them delightful, others saddening. The sky resembled the color of iron with the wind rustling the leaves and sweeping through your hair. You and Richie were currently walking to Bill’s childhood home to meet up with the rest of your old friends.

It has been about two years since the last time you where all together, luckily you all kept in touch.

You were greeted into the house with open arms and large smiles. Being back with your friends made you feel like your full self again; you missed Bill’s stuttering that has gotten increasingly better since you where kids but every now and then, he’ll struggle getting out some words, Beverly’s real but sarcastic remarks, Ben’s brain that knew information about anything and everything at any given time, Stan’s humor and clap backs, Eddie’s cleanliness along with his humor that always kept up with Richie’s, and Mike’s intelligence and kindness. A few new members have come along, like Beverly’s boyfriend, Daniel and Mike’s wife, Rebecca.

After eating and talking about the glory days, it was time to get down to business. Everyone fell silent as you all listened to Bill explain who has gone ‘missing’ and where the crime had happened. More information was exchanged as to what was different this time. Instead of children going missing near sewers, the attacks and crimes are now happening in homes.

So far, 34 children have gone missing in the past 4 weeks.

“Richie, I’m scared. I know that it has been 27 years and I shouldn’t fear this stupid fucking clown, but I do. I don’t think I can do this again.” You whispered and pressed your forehead against his. You were telling the truth, just not the whole truth. If something would happen to the forming baby inside of you, how would you explain that It had killed a baby that he didn’t know about? All of the stress had started to pile up resulting in you almost having a panic attack. Did he even want a kid? Well obviously not now, there’s a killer demon running around the city.

He sighed and rubbed along the outside of your arm before kissing your skin, “I know, but we have to. No one else will do it, it is all up to us.”

You nodded and embraced him, knowing that this was something that must be done to save hundred of lives.

You trudged through the sewer water with a flashlight in one hand and a baseball bat in the other. You were volunteered by Beverly to be one of the leaders walking through the tunnels which you punched her in the arm for after her bold statement. Your hands were shaking causing the light of the flashlight to wiggle around the concrete walls.

“Jeez (Y/n), we may attract the clown if you keep shaking the light around like that.” Eddie snickered.

“At least I’m leading us through these tunnels, unlike you and the rest of the boys, who have no problem walking behind me.”

“Well, at least I- What the hell was that?” Eddie went to sass you but was cut off by a loud BANG coming from the tunnel horizontally to the group.

The familiar snicker was heard echoing off of the walls. You heart seemed to stop beating in your chest as your eyes flew open to try and see where the demon was.

“Guys, I think I see it,” you mumbled, walking towards the noise. “Guys, I don’t- Guys!” you yelled suddenly turning and noticing that no one was behind you anymore.

You couldn’t have walked that far from everyone, it had only been a couple of seconds. Panic started to sting through your body as the realization that you were absolutely alone.

“Richie?” you yelled, flashing the light down the tunnels to try and see anyone.

“(Y/N!)” you heard the voices of your friends screaming for you.

“I’m here, I’m here, I’m-“ you stopped mid sentence and stopped walking when you saw a light. You heart’s beating started to decrease its pace when you thought the light was coming from another flashlight.

“You found us (Y/n.) Thank you, thank you, thank you.” you heard the whispers of what sounded like 5 young adults. Your stomach dropped to your feet as you realized that you were’t alone anymore.

“O-oh my god.” your breathing seemed to all pack into your throat at once when you saw the ‘children’ covered from head to toe in blood and clothes that was ripped and torn all around their ghostly white bodies.

You woke up to Richie’s voice screaming your name multiple times. Your head pounded against your skull and all of the loud noises were not helping. Your eyes seemed to blur before focusing on the love of your life’s face in front of you, holding your cheeks between his palms.

“You can’t leave me, I need you, please wake up.” he pleaded.

Your eyelids slid open to reveal Richie, in a state of panic, with dirt smeared across his cheek and blood falling off of his eyebrow.

“Rich-“ you sighed and rubbed your thumb over his chin before pulling him against you. He sighed into your hair before you two seemed to come back to reality when you heard a loud, ear piercing shriek from Stan.

“Coming back was such a mistake. No one will leave this time.” Pennywise sang, his voice chanting higher on the words such and no.

He currently held Beverly and Mike between his arms, their eyes wide and breathing staggered.

You grabbed your bat, walked right up to that fucking clown, and swung upwards to make his teeth bite into his lip.

His skull was cracking along with his mouth because of you, Bill and the rest of the loser’s crowded around you and grabbed Mike and Bev from his grasp. They were both struggling to breathe and coughing profusely. You stood in front of everyone with your eyebrows furrowed at this demon, clown, whatever it was.

Suddenly, he grinned before crouching down and becoming a small child. The kid must’ve been about 4, standing up and walking towards you. He had black hair with little curls forming at the ends of some strands, freckles sprinkling across his nose and below his eyes, along with your eyes.

This was your child.

“Why’d you do it mom?”

Your heart stopped.

“Why didn’t you save me? You could’ve saved me. Saved me from It, but you didn’t. You sent me here, why?”

“I-I didn’t-“ a tear rolled down your cheek. The weight of the world felt like it had been placed on your shoulders and your chest started to tighten at the thought that this might happen in the future.

“Yes you did, you didn’t want him to know,” he looked at Richie, “why?”

“(Y/n)…” Richie’s words sounded low and scarily steady. You looked back at him with wide eyes, he frowned at you, obviously confused as to what was happening.

“Mom, that’s him, you told me he didn’t want me, does he want me now?” the child’s voice was so soft, innocent, and realistic.

“Look-“

“It’s okay. I float now and you will too.” he smirked at you, before repeating his words.

Your ears started to ring with the sound of babies crying, louder and louder, you started to try and block out the noise which only seemed to be effecting you. The sound was deafening and your started to scream out in pain.

You closed you eyes and covered your ears trying to stop this awful noise and then, it all stopped and you felt a palm rub along your back.

“It’s gone, (Y/n) it left. Hopefully for good now. Stan killed It. It’s okay.” Richie said, brining you up and wrapping his arms around you.

Your tear stained cheeks pressed against Richie’s shirt as he soothing ran his fingers through your hair. Relief had flooded through you but also panic.

‘It transforms into the thing we fear the most, that why we call it, It.’

to be continued…

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conceptsnest · 4 years ago

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THE PATH TO ACCOUNTABILITY: BEHAVIORS ASSOCIATED - CHAPTER 01

Most people view accountability as something that happens to them or is inflicted upon them, choosing to perceive it as a heavy burden to carry. In fact, many people think about accountability as a concept or principle to be applied only when something goes wrong or when someone else is trying to determine cause and pinpoint blame. Often, when things are moving along smoothly and failure has not yet set in, people rarely ask “Who is accountable for this or that?” It seems that only when the boat is filling up with water or the fire is out of control do people start looking around for the responsible party.

The Oxford Advanced Learner's Dictionary defines accountability as “the fact of being responsible for your decisions or actions and expected to explain them when you are asked”. This in itself is a slightly negative connotation of accountability. “……..to explain them when you are asked’- implying a post-op view with little choice to the state of accountability. This confession-oriented and powerless definition suggests that accountability is a state someone arrives at after the event. Here is another definition:

This implies that accountability is the process of owning it and doing it. It requires a level of ownership that includes proactively taking charge of commitments. It is a perspective that embraces both current and future efforts rather than reactive and historical explanations.

The Blame: Whose Fault is it

Imagine this. We are babysitting two kids. And they are running around pushing each other and doing the usual obnoxious things. Then suddenly we hear a crash. In the next room, a super sacred one million rupees worth vase that the wife’s grandma made with her bare hands during the her toughest times is knocked off the table and lies on the floor in a thousand pieces.

What happens? The two kids immediately point blame the other. They present their cases. They start whining and cutting each other off. Now, let’s say one of them is a little naughty and violent and we have a hunch that it’s probably his fault anyway (bias). What do we do? Nothing. We either punish them both, or do nothing.

None of this changes the fact that both of them were running around and being reckless near nice precious objects, or the fact that theoretically, both were behaving negligently enough to cause destruction. It also does not change the fact that the vase is broken and is never coming back. One could even argue that it’s our fault for putting such a valuable item in a vulnerable place around kids. We spend a lot of our time and effort looking for whose fault something is, even when it doesn’t matter.

Here is another instance. We order a nice steak at a restaurant and it arrives under-cooked after a long wait. We want to blame the cook so we call the manager over and go on a tirade. But who knows, maybe the steak was poorly prepared by someone else, or the steak was not stored correctly the night before, or it was a faulty supply. Or maybe they tried buying from a faulty supplier. Or maybe there is a poor system of communication in the restaurant and so misunderstandings are prevalent and this affects how the food is prepared. But no, the cook was at fault, and needs to be made aware of the blame. As humans, we all enjoy a scapegoat; we need a scapegoat.

We see this most often with the government. An entire bureaucratic system may be at fault, causing continuous waste and inefficiency, but a few people get blamed and fired and the system continues. The public is satisfied. Someone is blamed and punished, so everything must be right again.

What is Personal Accountability?

Personal accountability is being willing to accept the consequences resulting from our choices, actions, or behaviors. Being personally accountable means owning the situations that we have been a part of. This means taking responsibility for the outcome, whether it is good or bad, and doing our best to rectify the situation. While it can be challenging to assert accountability, especially when the situation is not good or we have failed on a task, it is in these situations when personal responsibility matters most. By taking ownership of the situation, action, or choice, we build:

When we show that we are trustworthy, dependable, and willing to take ownership even when things fail, we become someone senior colleagues can depend on and will earn leadership opportunities. There are times when it’s important to know whose fault it is. Like when engaging in chemical warfare. Or finding out who pissed on the toilet seat. But in most of the cases in our lives, it’s an inconsequential distraction. And it is based largely on ego gratification and little on actual life improvement.

What Is the Blame Game?

When something goes wrong and we feel threatened, it's natural to want to defend ourselves against any repercussions. We might find ourselves scape-goating or trying to shift the blame elsewhere. We may try to distance ourselves from a problem, fearing that taking responsibility for errors or mistakes could harm our careers or make us look bad. But this approach doesn't solve anything. Shifting the blame will not help us fix the problem that caused the delay. Sometimes it is all too obvious when a team is playing a blame game. But it can happen in more subtle ways, too, like:

The Impact of Blame

Blaming others can have a detrimental effect on morale and performance. Team members may feel belittled or humiliated if they're pinpointed for blame – especially if it is not their fault. A culture of blame may also lead to individuals or teams being scapegoated when the real problem may lie elsewhere, or have a number of causes. It is easier to blame someone in another department or building than it is to point the finger at someone we sit with every day.

Over time, this type of scapegoating may even perpetuate bias or prejudice, or lead to accusations of discrimination. Also, it can damage the integrity of other team members who witness it, especially if they do nothing to stop it. "Passing the buck" can deplete trust with stakeholders. Conversations along the lines of, "Well, that is the finance team's fault, not ours, so I cannot help you" can make the whole company seem incompetent.

Blame can also stunt creativity and innovation within the organization – if people are afraid to try new things in case they do not work out, this can reduce team and company performance in the longer term. Finally, some individuals may be prone to accepting blame where it is not warranted. A protective manager, for example, may "take the rap" for someone else's mistake. Or, an individual who is highly self-critical may view everything as their fault, even when it is not.

The demand for rights has become extremely popular, but when it comes to dealing with responsibility and accountability, we lag far behind, a gap that accounts for increase in blaming and rights proclaiming, but very few instances of personal responsibility and accountability. The better the case for victimization, the more visibility and exposure we get, and, consequently, the greater the psychological or monetary reward we receive. The “blame game,” and the “thirst for exposure,” are just two symptoms of a widespread “responsibility avoiding” syndrome, which have afflicted individuals, groups and organizations as well. A majority of people in organizations today, when confronted with poor performance or unsatisfactory results, immediately begin to formulate excuses, rationalizations, and arguments for why they cannot be held accountable for the problems.

***To be continued in Chapter 02 (Ways To Move Away From Blaming, Accountability & Engagement, Accountability Ladder, Victimization & Accountability, Guiding To Rise Above Accountability)

#accountability #responsibility #ownership #emotional intelligence #self leadership #motivation #change #influence

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