#pls ignore that I forgot to paint Time’s right arm thanks

[maesonc-artistic-adventures]

The return of air jail.

Whatever he did, Warriors absolutely deserves this and I hope Wind has fun 😌

[heavenlyuris]

Falling

Pairings: Stenbrough, minor Reddie, minor Benverly, very minor past BIllverly

Warnings: Minor OCD flare ups.

a/n: okay this is literally the first piece I’ve written since I was like…a freshman in high school, so pls pls pls let me know what you guys think!

For years, Stan Uris would have, without question, told you that Richie Tozier was the bane of his existence. But, in his junior year of high school, he may have told you differently. He may have to say someone annoys him even more than King Trashmouth himself.

Greta Keene.

Now, hating Greta Keene was no recent development for the losers. They haven’t liked her….ever. Stan had the misfortune to share a fourth and fifth grade class with her, and he can recall her being as annoying back then. But, they generally stayed out of each others way. She wasn’t very interested in trashing the Jewish kid when Beverly Marsh was sitting right next to him, just waiting to be picked on.

But now, it seems, Stan just can’t get away from the pharmacists daughter. Not that they intentionally crossed paths, but the Losers often followed Bill Denbrough, their fearless leader, around like lost dogs. And apparently so does Greta Keene.

When Greta caught wind that Beverly liked Bill during Freshman year, then of course Greta had to like him too. She spent a good chunk of Freshman year asking Bill if “Sloppy Seconds” Marsh was good, and when that didn’t work, she took to throwing herself at him anytime Beverly or the other Losers were around.

They all expected that to die down when Ben Hanscom finally found the balls to ask Bev out halfway through Sophomore year.

Imagine their surprise when Greta walked right through their linked hands the next day, exclaiming, “I always knew one wasn’t good enough for you, Beaverly,” throwing a wink Bill’s way and a soft, “See you in Pre-Calc, Billy,” before walking down the hallway.

A year later and she was still throwing winks, glances, and kiss faces at the tall Denbrough boy any chance she got, and since she seemed to have a built in ‘Bill-dar’, she had a lot of chances.

Bill, of course, was much too nice to flat out tell her to leave him alone. He had changed a lot since they were 13, gotten a little, okay a lot, taller, joined the football and baseball teams along with Mike Hanlon, had mostly gotten over his stutter, and had grown into his awkwardly long limbs.

It wasn’t only Greta Keene who had taken a liking to Bill, many other girls at Derry High School fawned over him, but none of them had the gall to do anything about it, because they feared the Wrath of Greta Keene.

Stan didn’t fear the Wrath of Greta Keene, he feared rejection.

This fear kept him from acting on his feelings for Bill. Stanley Uris has loved Bill Denbrough for years. Since they were kids, since Bill stood up to Henry Bowers for him. Since Bill had helped Stan nurse a hurt baby warbler back to health. Since Bill had taken his hand that day at the quarry when they were 12, and promised Stan he would never let him get hurt, and they jumped together. Stan swears he’s still falling to this day.

Falling for Bill Denbrough.

So, of course when he walked towards his shared calculus class with Richie on a Monday morning in May of 1993, and heard Greta Keene excitedly say, “I think Bill’s gonna ask me to prom!” He grabbed Richie’s arm and took a sharp left.

“Uh, Stan? Calc is the other way,” Richie said.

“Yes, but maybe we need a change of pace. Let’s take the long way,” Stan said back, shuffling along quickly.

Richie knows Stan. Stan was Richie’s first friend, his best friend. He knows that Stan doesn’t like change, he knows Stan doesn’t like being any less than 3 minutes early for class, and he knows that Stan doesn’t like girls.

He does know, however, that Stan likes Bill.

But, he doesn’t say anything, for once, and follows his friend instead.

That Thursday, during lunch, when Mike sat down with Stan, Richie, Eddie, and Bev, he asked, “You guys are coming to mine and Bill’s game tomorrow, right? It’s our last home game of the season!”

“Oh shoot! I almost forgot about that! Guess I’ll have to reschedule that date I had with Eddie’s mom, huh,” Richie said, throwing a wink in the smaller boys direction.

“Beep, Beep, Trashmouth! My mom hates your guts,” Eddie grumbled, turning away from his boyfriend, “Me and Richie will be there, Mike”

“Yeah, Mikey! You know me and Eds wouldn’t miss it,” Richie said, ignoring the heated ‘don’t call me that!’ he earned from his boyfriend.

Mike nodded, “Awesome. Bev? Stan?”

Beverly smiled that beautiful smile of hers, “Of course I’ll be there,” she replied, looking over at Stan expectantly.

Stan shrugged. “I still have to convince my dad to let me start Sabbath late, but I’m sure it won’t be a problem,” he stated. Him and his father had come to an understanding on his faith. His father understood that pressuring Stan to keep such a strict belief was hurting him, and had loosened the reigns significantly. He still wanted Stan to observe Sabbath, and his mother still only cooked Kosher meals. Stan had begun loving the quiet Friday evenings, and Saturday mornings with is family.

But not as much as he loved Bill.

So of course, the following night, he found himself sitting with his friends in the bleachers of the baseball diamond, awaiting Derry High’s team’s arrival.

The night wasn’t too chilly, he had brought an extra jacket just in case, and he even found himself laughing at Richie’s terrible jokes under the bright lights of the field, still making sure his giggles were accompanied by his signature eye roll.

Overall, he was having a really great time.

Well he was, until he saw Greta Keene. She was decked out in Derry High’s school colors, had Bill’s #7 painted on her cheek, and she was wearing…

Was that Bill’s varsity jacket?

Upon her turning around, Stan had found out that it was indeed, Bill’s varsity jacket.

Stan’s stomach dropped, he could have heard it, had Richie not audibly gagged at the sight of Greta flashing the back to her friends, which proudly had ‘Denbrough’ stitched across it.

Beverly opened her mouth to speak, probably to make a comment about said jacket, but before any nice came out, she was interrupted by cheers exploding as Derry’s team ran out onto the field to stand for the National Anthem, and Stan’s heart leaped up into his throat as he saw Bill smile right at him.

The moment was cut short when Greta’s screech of, “WOO BILLY! GO BILLY!” sharply rang through his eardrums.

Stan had a hard time focusing on anything except for Greta screaming Bill’s name anytime he was up to bat, or caught a fly ball, or did anything, really.

“Stan, your eyes are going to literally pop out of your head if you roll them any harder,” Richie leaned in to whisper to the Jewish boy, though there was a concerned undertone to the teasing.

Stan promptly turned his glare to Richie, non-verbally telling to shut up, while simultaneously saying ‘I’ll explain later’ without saying any words.

Soon, it was the bottom of the ninth, and both teams were tied up, and it was Bill Denbrough’s turn up at bat. One home run, and the game would be theirs, and Derry High would be heading to playoffs. Of course, because Bill Denbrough is perfect, he hit that home run, he proudly ran the bases, right into home base, and right into the waiting arms of his teammates, who hefted him up onto their shoulders as the whole of Derry High School cheered for the beautiful green-eyed boy.

Of course, the team wanted to celebrate, but the only people Bill wanted to spend the night with were his merry band of Losers.

“S-so, guys. Are we meeting back at my place,” Bill asked hopefully after he and Mike finally pried their way away from the team, and had converged with the rest of the Losers in the parking lot.

Richie opened his mouth, probably to spew some idiot remark that he wouldn’t miss spending a night with Mrs. Denbrough, when the signature Keene screech was heard.

“Billy,” she spoke, throwing her arms around his neck as he turned around. “You did such a good job tonight! I’m so proud of you!”

“Uh, th-thanks, Greta,” he stammered as she finally released him.

“So, are you coming to the diner tonight,” she asked, coy smile playing on her lips.

“No, me and my friends are just gonna hang out for the night,” he responded.

Greta finally seemed to recognize the figures standing behind Bill, and a sneer marked her mug, “Oh, will then,” she shrugged off his jacket, holding it out to him, “Here’s your jacket back, thanks for letting me borrow it, Billy. Congrats again,” she whispered the last part, standing up on her tip-toes to plant a kiss on Bill’s cheek, before walking back to her friends.

Stan could have puked right then and there. “I don’t think I can make it, my dad wants me home.“

“Oh, well, I can drive you home,” Bill offered, fishing his keys out of his pocket.

“No, Big BIll, I got this one, I need to swing by Stan’s house and say a special hello to Mrs. Uris, anyway,” Richie sent a wink flying Stan’s way. This time it wasn’t jealousy bringing bile up Stan’s throat.

As Stan bid their small group adieu, Bill grabbed him into a hug. “Thanks for coming tonight. See you on Monday,” The taller, green-eyed boy spoke, flashing Stan a blinding smile.

Once they were in Richie’s car, driving down the street, he broke.

“I love him so much, Rich.”

“I know. He-“

“He’s literally just perfect.”

“Yeah, you know-“

“And who does Greta think she is to try and steal him away from us!?”

“A bitch, but Stan-“

“God I wanted to throw up when I saw her wearing his jacket! And when she kissed him? Barf,” Stan said, opening the glove box and trying hard to reorganize Richie’s junk to help the oncoming panic attack.

“Yeah she’s gross, but as I was saying, he really likes-“

“Oh no, don’t tell me he likes her, I’ll actually barf then,”

“No! He likes-“

“God, if he asks her to prom I’m going to….I don’t know what I’m going to do!”

“Stan-“

“If they start dating I’ll-“

“Stan!”

“And if I have to see them kiss in the hallways I’m-“

“STAN!” Richie finally shouted, stomping on the brake. All of the papers Stan had in his hands flopped to the ground.

“What, Richie,” Stan huffed, too deep in his own sorrow to have the energy to try and pick them up again.

“This is our stop.”

Confused, Stan looked out of the window, only to be met with the outside of the Denbrough house. Turning back to Richie, he shook his head adamantly, “No, Richie, I’m not going in there.”

“C’mon Stanley, all that’s gonna happen is we’re gonna order pizza, watch some movies, have some laughs, and have a good time. And it won’t be the same without you there,” Richie said, “Besides, Bill’s whining about you not being there is gonna totally distract from my time! Time I could be spending making out with Eds!”

Flushed, Stan once again shook his head, “I wanna go home, Richie.”

“Staniel, pleeeeeeaaaase,” Richie begged, clasping his hand together and pouting his bottom lip at his best friend.

“Ugh, fine,” Stan said, mostly just wanting to get out of the car, which now had loose papers all over the interior.

Richie followed him out and around to the other side, “Great! And just so you know, I’m making a great sacrifice here! Bill only orders cheese pizza when you’re around! I’m giving up my Hawaiian Pizza for you Stan!”

Stan rolled his eyes as he and Richie walked into the Denbrough residence, so comfortable with this family that  they did not need to knock.

Bill seemed to be in the middle of a monologue when the pair entered the den, his eyes widening when he say the boy with the familiar curls. “Stan,” he exclaimed, “You m-made it!”

“Yeah, no one can resist the Tozier charm,” Richie said, winking at no one in particular.

Stan rolled his eyes, “What he means to say was that he brought me here against my will.”

He must have imagined the slight look of disappointment that crossed Bill’s face.

Purposefully avoiding his usual spot on the love seat next to Bill, he instead opted to sit on the floor in front of the couch, leaning against Beverly’s legs.

Did he imagine that look of confusion Bill sent his way?

After they finally placed their order for two large pizza’s, one cheese, and one Hawaiian, after Stan promised he only wanted a couple slices, they settled into watching one of their favorite movies.

Halfway through, the doorbell rang, alerting the teens to the arrival of their food. Bill hopped up to answer the door, paying the delivery boy, and walking back through the den to the kitchen.

“Stan, do you wanna help me grab plates?”

It was almost an automatic impulse, hopping up and following Bill, but he was halfway to the kitchen when he remembered he did not want to be alone with the boy, so he resigned to keeping quiet while grabbing the plates from their regular cupboard. That was something he loved about the Denbrough house, it’s been the exact same as the first day he stepped foot into the house.

He nearly dropped the plates when he turned around to Bill’s gaze directly on him.

“Are y-you mad at me?” Ah, there is it. Bill had never been very subtle when it came to speaking his mind.

Stan shook his head, “No, of course not,” he said through a tight-lipped smile.

“Is there something bothering you,” Bill’s furrowed brow showed every sign of concern for his friend.

Stan sighed, “I guess I’m just…..stressed.”

“Is your dad pressuring you again? You know you can stay here anytime you need,” Bill’s gaze softened.

Stan’s heart started beating even more rapidly at the brunette’s loving gaze. He only nodded in response.

“Do you w-want to..spend the n-night here,” Bill tripped over his words.

Once again, Stan only nodded in response.

When they returned, they both took their spots next to each other on the love seat after handing out the plates.

Stan definitely did not imagine the smirk and wink he received from Richie when Bill draped his arm across the back of the seat behind Stan.

After the movie, and a not-so-surprising promprosal from Richie to Eddie, the other losers slowly decided to head home.

“Stan, you need a ride home,” Riche asked.

Stan glanced at Bill, his cheeks picking up a faint blush, “No, I’m staying the night.”

“Yowza! Okay Stan the Man, remember to use protection,” Richie howled, wrapping an arm around Eddie as they headed out of the door.

After they were alone, Stan argued that he would wash the dishes while Bill got ready for bed, as a sort of congrats on the big game.

Once Stan was done, and had hung the last plate on the drying rack, he headed upstairs, opening the door to Bill’s room, stopping in his track as a very, very shirtless Bill Denbrough turned around.

Stan felt as if every bit of blood rushed to his face while he stammered an apology, turning around and trying to walk back out the door.

“Stan, it’s okay,” Bill said, quickly pulling a sweatshirt over his head. Stan noticed he stall had a couple of articles of clothing in his hands, and Bill handed them to him. “H-here, I r-r-realized that yo-you probably didn’t b-bring pajamas.”

“Thank you,” Stan said, quietly undressing himself. As he was, he felt Bill’s eyes on him, and was glad for the shirt covering his blush. He had undressed in from of Bill so many times, but never when they were this….close….this alone.

It felt almost intimate.

And as Stan stood in the middle of Bill’s room, with a pair of shorts hanging from his hips and swimming in a shirt much too large for him, he could swear Bill was staring at him. He quickly chose to study the mess of papers lying on Bill’s desk instead of meeting the other boys eyes.

“Stan, please, tell me what’s wr-wrong,” Bill pleaded.

“There’s nothing wrong,” Stan stated, still staring at the papers, trying to will them to be organized with his mind.

“Stan…”

“Greta really likes you.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“She’s probably gonna ask you out,” now Stan has begun shuffling papers around, trying to get notes for classes together.

“M-maybe, but-“

“I mean, you two will probably be a great couple.”

“I don’t-“

“I mean, everyone probably thinks you two are already a couple, she WAS wearing your jacket tonight.”

“She asked s-so I-“

“Everyone loves you , so they’ll probably love you two together,” Stan has begun shuffling the papers faster, every so often a piece slips out of his grasp and he has a hard time quelling his tears as he bends over to pick it up.

“Stan-“

“And it’s okay if you ask her to prom, she was talking about it earlier this week.”

“W-what?”

“And when you guys start dating and you hold hands, and kiss, and-“

“STAN!” Bill shouted, grabbing the smaller boys wrists, turning Stan around to face him.

“Yes?” Stan asked, innocently. This was when Bill noticed the tears welling up in the corners of his eyes.

“Stan? Wh-what is…what’s wrong?” Bill asked, much more soft this time. Stan shook his head again, tears finally slipping out. Bill simply wrapped his arms around his waist. Stan pushed away with little force, but enough for Bill to get the clue and let him go. “Stan, please.”

“I love you, okay? I love you so god damn much, and not the way that Richie loves you, or the way Mike loves you. I’m IN LOVE with you Bill!” Stan sobbed, “And I know that I’m not good enough for you and…“ Stan wavered, looking the the right words. “And it hurts so much thinking that you’ll never love me the same way that I love you.”

“Why,” Bill simply asked.

“Why do I love you? Because you’re amazing, you can do anything you put your mind to, you’re beautiful, and kind, and smart, and-“

“No, why d-do you think I w-won’t love you?”

Stan suddenly froze, looking up at Bill, who seemed much closer than he was a second ago. “Because…..you can’t.”

Bill smiled that signature Denbrough smile. “I th-thought you said I c-could do anything?” He asked softly, his nervousness showing through the shake of his hands, and the shake of his voice. “Can I kiss you?”

Stan nodded, and when Bill caught his lips with his own, and even as the bells rang in his mind, and the explosions blew in his heart, he realized he was right.

He’s still falling for Bill Denbrough.