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lilhoeforevanpeters · 3 months

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stanley uris as a husband

"I once believed love would be black and white, but it's golden"

Stanley Uris x GN! reader

I know this fandom is practically dead, but I just really love these characters and the fandom, so for those few of you still out there, hey! feel free to send any requests my way, I might add a masterlist+who I write for. thanks!

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he would do anything for you. you’re cold? here’s a blanket and tea. you’re sad? here’s a hug and forehead kisses.

he would rant to you about birds, and you’d smile and nod along, not really knowing what’s exciting about birds (unless you really like birds), but loving the excitement on his face

occasionally will go bird watching, either following a hike/and or walk

you’d buy a house together and renovate it yourselves

he would paint the living room a green-ish color. like a neutral green

either assisting him with puzzles, or reading a book beside him on the couch while he works on one

when you get married, the losers club is there, making fun of stanley since he managed to get married

him glaring at them and telling you to ignore richie’s jokes, only to be surprised when you start making jokes with richie

you and richie get along really well and are actually besties- which irritates stanley but he knows he can trust richie

when you’re in bed trying to sleep you’ll start asking random questions, to which he will put up with and answer as his eyes are closed

“do fish know about land?”

“probably, baby-love”

speaking of which, EXCESSIVE use of baby-love

he’s the type of husband to be best friends with your mother. prove me wrong

he has ocd (that’s canon, right?)

forehead kisses, kisses on the cheek, or the neck, most of the time anywhere but your lips

of course he’d still kiss your lips all the time, but for a quick solution he’ll resort to those quick pecks

he lets you try on his glasses, even if he thinks it’s childish

he’ll listen to you about your rants, whether it’s something your family said, gossip going around in the neighborhood, or your favorite book series, he’s engaged and listening the entire time

he would tear up while proposing

would 100% propose in a meaningful spot to you two, like the place where you had your first date, etc

the healthiest relationship ever

#stanley uris x male!reader #stanley uris angst #stanley uris x reader #stanley uris x gn!reader #stanley uris #stan uris #stanley uris x fem!reader #it chapter ii #it chapter one #it #it chapter 2 #it 2017 #it 2019 #it 2016 #it stephen king #stephen king it #stephen king #horror films

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regulusblackslut · 8 months

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i have 2 (maybeee 3) things coming out this week 👀👀 thanks for being patient! school is.. school 😐

#kyle broflovski x reader #south park #stanley uris smut #jimmy valmer x reader #regulus black smut #stan marsh x reader #bill denbrough x reader #regulus black angst #poly!marauders smut #stanley uris x reader #regulusblackslut #south park smut #richie toizer x reader #south park x reader #remus lupin angst #remus lupin smut #james potter fluff #james potter smut

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eddiekaspbrakirlsblog · 9 months

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beautiful boy by John Lennon is so eddie and frank kaspbrak coded

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kalsiferdraws · 10 months

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When your best friend/crush brings a girl to your concert and you have to sing through it

#art #digital art #artists on tumblr #my doodles #band au #it #stenbrough #fanart #alternative universe #au #stanley uris #stan uris #bill denbrough #bill x stan #illustration #angst?

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missriddle03 · 2 years

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➪𝗧𝗲𝗱𝗱𝘆- 𝗕𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗗𝗲𝗻𝗯𝗿𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵

➪𝗣𝗿𝗼𝗺𝗽𝘁𝘀- 𝗮 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝘀𝗹𝗲𝗲𝗽𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗶𝗿 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘀

➪𝗖𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁𝘀-𝗳𝗹𝘂𝗳𝗳 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆 𝘁𝗶𝗻𝘆 𝗯𝗶𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘀𝘁

➪𝗧𝗶𝗺𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱: 7 𝗺𝗶𝗻𝘂𝘁𝗲𝘀 𝗮𝗻𝗱 16 𝘀𝗲𝗰𝗼𝗻𝗱𝘀

➪ 𝗪𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁- 1,392

🇹 🇪 🇩 🇩 🇾

Bill started walking up the stairs to y/n's room as her mother let him in. He had been going round the house quite often so her mother had gotten used to him and allowed him in unlike Richie who her mother didn't like with all his bad words and sexual talks. Her mother had grown to like him and usally invited him round when y/n wasn't feeling well or just needed someone to talk to. He was always her mothers first choice for help with her daughter seeing as he made her happy.

He wanted to see her earlier but he got caught up with Richie. Bill wanted to leave Richie to talk with y/n but he never had the chance until Stanley and Eddie showed up. He knew if he left then no-one would notice. Y/n and Bill have been what you call high-school sweethearts. He met y/n in your first year of high school. They bumped into each other almost simultaneously after you locked eyes. Since then the rest is history.

Bill opened the door quite quickly thinking y/n was awake. "Y/n I wanted to ask if you-" he stopped in his tracks. He noticed she was asleep, curtains open and she was on top of the sheets curled up tight with a Teddy. He didn't get a proper glimpse of the teddy until she slowly turned over to her side. The light beaming from the outside onto the teddy that he now saw. A very familiar teddy. Georgies teddy. Bill placed his bag and books,that he had brought over to study for an upcoming test, under her desk and sat at the end of her bed.

Bill began staring at the teddy thinking of georgie and how he had lied about being ill to not play play him on that rainy day. The day played through bill's mind as he remembered georgie waving goodbye and a peircing scream coming from down the street. A tear left his eye as he began looking more at the teddy.

Y/n must of felt someone staring as she almost immediately woke up. "What are you doing here?" She had asked him as he still sat there looking. "I w-was um c-coming round to r-revise for t-the test" he had stuttered. His stuttering had gotten worse over the months and he knew it. "Oh sorry I completely forgot I was out like a light seeing as I didn't get much sleep last night" y/n indicated that it was because of the quarry and especially only Richie. Richie toizer had made them all stop up till midnight just so he could say his new joke about how he fucked Eddie's mom. It was a good joke till you fell asleep on the floor and Richie shook you awake. Bill got her to ride at the end of his bike.

Y/n noticed Bill's constant staring. "You okay?" She asked him. His concentration didn't change he didn't even hear her until she clicked her fingers for attention. "I said are you okay?" He just looked at her and looked down again "that t-teddy it w-was g-georgies" he admitted to her. "Oh my god I'm so sorry I didn't know"

Earlier on in the week Bill had said that she could have any teddy she chose to help her sleep well at night. She went through his room and found a teddy that was on his desk. Y/n then took it and had slept with it ever since. Bill at the time didn't know which teddy she took and thought his parents took Georgie's teddy in a box of his stuff.

"I can give it back it's not an issue, I honestly didn't know it was his" Bill shook his head as she said this. "I-it's fine you d-didn't know a-and t-this way I can b-b-be w-with both of y-you" he smiled. He moved himself closer to y/n as she placed her head on his chest. Bill wrapped his arm around her and the teddy laid in-between them as she fell asleep. He placed a kiss on her forehead and then he placed a kiss on Georgie's teddy.

"I wish h-he w-was still h-here, I think y-you would l-like him" "I think I would very much"

After this was said they both fell asleep. Bill woke up an hour later hearing a noise. He silently moved away from y/n and followed the noise. Bill saw a figure with a yellow coat run past like thunder. Here and then got in a second.

Y/n must of felt someone leave because she woke up not long after. "Bill you alri-" she noticed he was gone. She immediately jumped of the bed leaving the teddy and went to find Bill in her house. She heard a noise so of course she followed it. Bill still followed the noise and went down y/n's basement. It was filled with water. Y/n found were Bill was and she ran down the stairs. "You okay what's wrong?" She had asked but he didn't respond. He was lost in thought more or so instead looking at something a yellow coat. He pointed at it. Y/n looked at it and slowly moved down the stairs. "It is just a coat" she reassured him. "You lied and I died" was heard. Y/n heard it and went back to Bill. He held her in his arms. Her body was facing the basement floor and started scanning the room for activity.

Bill was very considerate of you so when he knew that y/n was scared he asked her to "go u-upstairs". Y/n being the stubborn one she shook her head and stayed by his side. Something near the yellow coat moved, legs appeared then even a face. "Georgie" Bill had muttered. Y/n knew this was impossible seeing as georgie was and scientifically dead. More dead than a guy who was shot with blunt force head trauma. "Bill, you sure it's him?" She had asked with more like a whisper tone.

He looked back at her and didn't give her a response. Instead he walked towards the coat, towards the water in the basement and towards the voice. "You lied and I died" was heard again. Y/n started following Bill through the water. "You lied and I died" only being a few centimetres away the voice grew louder. The coat disappeared. Bill and y/n started walking back up the stairs. "You lied and I died" was kept being repeated. Y/n pointed towards a figure that was now infront of then, clear as day it was georgie. Georgie Denbrough. However, his face was different it was covered in a weird substance. "Maybe we should go Bill" she had said to him. The dazzling yellow coat with now the recognised face still kept repeating "you lied and I died" "Bill what's he talking about?" She placed her hand in his as she asked him. "You weren't really sick that day were you?" "N-no I w-wasn't g-georgie" "Bill come on we should go" Bill moved closer towards georgie. Or was was the representation of georgie. Tears fell down bill's face.

"It's not real Bill come on" he didn't listen. Instead he walked closer to the disoriented georgie. Y/n grabbed his arm and dragged him up the basement steps. "W-w-why did y-you do t-that?" She took him back down the basement steps."see, it wasn't real" she then walked up the stairs to her room alone. Bill took one last look before walking up the stairs. He followed her to her room. "Here" She handed him Georgie's teddy. "You need this more than me" he handed the teddy back. "I n-need to l-let go, I c-can s-still be with georgie if you k-k-keep it.

He gave y/n a kiss on her lips before sitting at her desk to study. Shocked at how quick he changed the subject of seeing a representation of georgie, she sat down and started revising with him. "I l-love y-you" Bill came out and said. "I love you too" she smiled.

#it 2017 #it chapter one #bill denbrough fanfic #bill denbrough #bill denbrough x reader #bill Denbrough x y/n #bill skarsgård #stanley uris #mike hanlon #beverly marsh #stan uris #ben hanscom #georgie denbrough #pennywise #angst #bill denbrough angst #lovers #the losers club #writing prompt

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antisociallilbrat · 1 year

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Lol sometimes I think about Stan looking right at Bill, absolutely terrified after being attacked by IT in the sewers and screaming “You left me!”

He wasn’t angry with the other Losers, he was angry with Bill because in that moment he felt betrayed. People say there wasn’t much to Bill and Stan’s relationship in the movies but it takes a deep connection to feel that type of emotion. Also the look on Bill’s face after, the guilt.

#AND he still left him #look I love Stenbrough #and the main reason I love it is bc it can be angsty as hell #but also they can have a lot of sweet moments #and angst #so much angst #Stenbrough #stanbrough #stanley uris #stan uris #bill denbrough #it 2017 #it 2019

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coopermorrow · 1 year

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It (2017/2019) Masterlist

This is my official masterlist for It characters. I write for all the characters listed as well as others if it is requested. I will also write for their actors. For additional information, please refer to the post linked below.

This masterlist along with my others will be updated everytime a new story/fic is written or in the works of being written.

BILL DENBROUGH:

-none yet

RICHIE TOZIER:

-none yet

EDDIE KASPBRAK:

-none yet

STANLEY URIS:

-none yet

MIKE HANLON:

-none yet

BEN HANSCOM:

-none yet

BEVERLY MARSH:

-none yet

HENRY BOWERS:

-none yet

PATRICK HOCKSTETTER:

-none yet

REGINALD "BELCH" HUGGINS:

-none yet

VICTOR CRISS:

-none yet

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derry-dyke · 1 year

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No matter who said what to Richie, He always had a comeback. Some sort of rebuttal. Always in trouble with his mother for needing to get the last word in. From the outside, it seemed any insult thrown his way simply bounced off of him. Which wasn't always true, But he kept up his unbothered facade pretty well.

The jabs from his friends, however, truly had never truly bugged him before. Not until recently. They were only teasing. He knew that. He'd always known that. It'd never bothered him before. So, why so suddenly did it sting when Bill or Bev told him to shut up? Or when Stan called him annoying? Usually when he could tell he was getting on Eddie's nerves, He delighted in it. As of lately, Eddie snaps and Richie's whole chest suddenly feels cold. His smile dropping from his face. None of them seemed to notice. Maybe they did like it better when he was quiet. Maybe he really was annoying.

So he got quiet. Uncharacteristically distant over the next few days. Occasionally chiming in with a quip, or a joke about Eddie's mom. He'd never pass up a good opportunity to make a joke about Sonia Kaspbrak. And as per usual, Eddie shut the joke down.

"Gross, Richie! Take it back!"

"No can do, Eddie Spaghetti. Mrs. K is the only one for me." He laughs.

"Ew! That's not even funny! Do you ever stop fuckin' talking? So annoying.."

Eddie huffed, rolling his eyes. Like he'd done a thousand times before when Richie got on his nerves.

Usually, Richie would laugh, crack a few more jokes at Eddie's expense. That isn't what happened this time.

When no response came from Richie, Eddie looked up from where he was grumpily reading a comic book. Richie felt his gaze land on him and looked away just in time to hide the way his lip tugged as he tried not to cry. Not in front of them all.

"I'll uh-- See you guys later."

"Richie--"

"Sorry, Eds. Can't keep Mrs. K waiting."

"..Asshole."

Richie climbed up the ladder and left the clubhouse. The rest of the losers club all looked at each other, all in silent agreement that that was... odd.

The next time it happened, They were all gathered in the clubhouse again. It wasn't uncommon for Richie and Eddie to be pressed into the hammock together. Side by side or across from each other. Sometimes Eddie would climb in after Richie and sit opposite him, or between Richie's legs to read whatever comic he was reading. Other times, Richie would squeeze in beside Eddie, or flop in on top of him. And Eddie would either accept his presence, absent-mindedly adjusting to make room and hold his comic book where Richie could see it. Or sometimes it went more like,

"Oof! Get off of me, assface."

"You know you can't get enough of me, Eds."

"In your dreams."

"Only the fun ones." Richie winks.

"That's disgusting. You're so fuckin' annoying."

Eddie was waiting for hands to come up and pinch his cheeks or ruffle his hair. What he wasn't expecting was for Richie to really sit up off of him. He looked up from his comic book.

"What are you doing?"

"Getting off of you. Sorry."

Eddie blinked, confused. Watching Richie sit back to sit opposite him in the hammock and bury his face in a comic book. He looked around to find the others were watching quietly too. All of them equally confused. A quiet sniffle made their confused expressions shift to ones of concern.

"Richie?"

Don't cry. Don't cry. Do not cry.

"I'm reading, Eddie. This one just came out--"

"You read it yesterday, Dickbrain. Look at me."

"No."

"Are you.. crying?"

"..No."

The hesitation and the waver in Richie's voice reassured no one. Eddie snatched the comic book from him so that he couldn't hide behind it anymore.

"Dude!"

Richie hastily pushed his glasses out of his way to rub at his eyes. Eddie's heart sunk in his chest at the sight.

"You /are/ crying."

"Do you want a fucking sticker or something?"

"No, I want you to talk to us. We care about you."

"Hah. Right. Fuck off."

Eddie frowned. Did Richie.. not believe that they cared? He watched Richie lean forward and put his face in his hands. Their friends had moved closer now. Ben knelt beside the hammock, As if trying to meet Richie's eyes, But his face was covered.

"Richie, What's wrong? What's been bothering you?"

"Nothin', Haystack. I'm totally fine."

Stan rolled his eyes. Leaning against the post that Eddie's side of the hammock was tied to. Bev stood across from him, gently threading her fingers through Richie's hair. Not mentioning the way she felt his body jolt with each silent sob he was choking back. From the way tears began to gather in Eddie's concerned eyes, She could tell he felt it too.

"No, you're not. We can tell something is up. You've been acting weird. You've been.. quiet." Stan pointed out. A broken, humorless laugh came from the boy curled up in the hammock.

"Isn't that what you guys wanted?"

"..What?" Bev's hand paused.

"All you guys do is tell me how fucking annoying I am, and-- not funny and how I talk too much and-- anytime I say anything at all someone tells me to shut up, I just-- I thought--"

Richie's broken voice rambled until he couldn't get any more words out. A broken sob coming from behind his hands. They all looked guilty now.

"Rich-Richie, We're only j-juh-joking. You know that, Don't you?" Bill's voice comes from somewhere behind Richie.

"...Doesn't feel like you guys are joking. Feels like you don't want me around anymore." Richie's voice cracks.

"That's not true. Nobody thinks you're annoying. None of us want you to stop talking to us, or making jokes. Of course we want you here."

Mike chimes in from where he stood beside Stan. Ben's hand rubs Richie's back while Bev's fingers begin to move through his hair again.

"And we /do/ care about you." Stan corrects the way Richie had doubted Eddie's words before.

"We love you. We're sorry." Bev agrees.

It's quiet after that except for the sound of Richie crying into his hands. Everyone looks at each other. Mixtures of guilt and sadness on their faces. Of all of them, Richie was always the least likely to cry in front of them all like this. He was usually the one making everyone else laugh when they were in tears. For a moment, nobody knows what to do.

Eddie is the first to move. Sitting forward in the hammock and prying Richie's hands away from his face.

"Hey--"

"I'm sorry, okay? I'm so sorry, Richie. I didn't know."

Richie gives in immediately, Allowing himself to be tugged forward into an embrace, crying into Eddie's shoulder. He feels someone take his hand, opening his teary eyes to see Stan standing there, looking guilty.

He closes his eyes again and relishes in the feeling of Eddie holding him, Ben's hand rubbing circles on his back and Bev's fingers in his hair. Squeezing Stan's hand, sniffling when he squeezes back.

"You're the funniest guy I know, Rich. Even the stupid nicknames. And the jokes about my mom."

"Hah.. Remember you said that, Eds."

"I will. But you better soak it in now because you'll never get me to admit it again."

That gets a soft laugh out of Richie, which makes the rest of them smile.

"I almost never mean it when I tell you to shut up." Stan reassures him, thumb running across Richie's knuckles.

"You're gonna regret those words, Uris." Richie tries to joke, sniffling.

"No, I won't. I'm serious." Stan shuts him down, squeezing his hand again. If Stan regrets anything, It's his contribution to Richie feeling this way.

"And we d-duh-don't really th-think you're annoying."

"Alright, Big Bill, You don't have to lie to me. I know I'm annoying. It's okay. Seriously."

"I'm n-not lying."

"We really don't mean it. Who else makes us laugh as hard as you do?" Mike asks. Richie shrugs.

"You make all of us laugh all the time, Rich. It's not fair that we make you feel like this when all you ever wanna do is make us all smile. We had no idea."

Bev murmurs. Richie doesn't have a rebuttal for that. He can feel his composure starting to slip again, sniffling as more tears gather in his eyes. Hiding his face in Eddie's shoulder. Eddie who has yet to let go of him and doesn't seem to want to anytime soon. Richie holds on tighter.

"I get it, guys, I'm fine--"

"We're not saying it just to make you feel better. We're serious. Why didn't you say something?" Ben asks from where he's still rubbing Richie's back. Richie shrugs.

"Didn't think it mattered." His shaky voice answers. They can all tell he's on the verge of tears again.

"Of course it matters." Eddie's voice answers, equally shaky.

"None of us want you to feel that way about yourself. We wouldn't have said those things if we knew you thought we were serious. I didn't mean to hurt you." His voice cracks. Mike rubs his back. As much as Eddie always hated Richie's jokes about his mom, He'd be distraught if there came a day he wouldn't get to hear them anymore.

"Oh, Spaghetti.." Richie frowns. Heart sinking in his chest as he holds Eddie a little closer.

"Don't cry over lil' old me. I'm tough."

"Shut-- Stop it. That isn't the point. Stop deflecting, Jackass. I'm serious. We love you, okay?"

"I--" Richie isn't sure how to respond as he's called out. He stops trying to laugh this off.

"Yeah, Eds. Okay. I love you guys too. I'm sorry."

"We're sorry. Tell me the next time I say something that hurts you. Please."

"I.. Yeah, I will. I promise. I'll say something next time."

They all stayed like that for a few more minutes. Letting Richie know how loved he is, without allowing him to turn the moment into a joke.

Over the next few weeks he noticed the others laughing and smiling at his jokes more often. He noticed that both Stan and Eddie had stopped doing that thing where they feign annoyance and try not to laugh. Not hiding their amusement, or the joy Richie brought them anymore. Nobody called him annoying. And if someone told him to shut up, it was always while they were laughing.

From now on, Richie wouldn't have to wonder whether or not his presence was wanted amongst the Losers Club. They'd never let him wonder again.

#richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #angst #it chapter 1 #it chapter 2 #reddie #writing #it art #mike hanlon #bill denbrough #beverly marsh #ben hanscom #stanley uris #amanda's writing

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incorrect-losers · 1 year

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Richie: You think It’s coming after me?! How can you listen to this weird guy?! He’s practically salking this thing! Don’t you think maybe he’s the cause?

Bev: I think you should stop being such a dink to Bill

Richie: Grrragghhh

Richie: Stan! You’re not an idiot!

Bill & Bev: Heyyy!

Richie: Do you believe all of this?

Stan: I-

Richie: All this stuff, they’ve got to be doing it somehow. We’ve got to ditch these guys cmon

Stan: I’m not ditching anyone

#a bit of angst #and of course for like my only angst post it’s sourced from steven universe lol #it #it chapter 2 #it stephen king #losers club #the losers club #losers club incorrect quotes #richie tozier #bill denbrough #beverly marsh #stan uris #stanley uris #stozier #source: steven universe

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mxdnights0 · 1 year

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ʜᴇʀᴇ ɪꜱ ᴍʏ ᴠᴇʀꜱɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ɪꜰ ʀɪᴄʜɪᴇ ᴛʀɪᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴄᴏᴍᴍɪᴛ ɪɴꜱᴛᴇᴀᴅ ᴏꜰ ꜱᴛᴀɴʟᴇʏ ᴅʏɪɴɢ ᴀᴛ ᴀʟʟ ᴄᴀᴜꜱᴇ ɪᴍ ᴏɴ ᴀɴ ᴀɴɢꜱᴛ ʙʀᴀɪɴʀᴏᴛ ᴀᴛ 4 ᴀᴍ ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜꜱᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴛɪᴋᴛᴏᴋ

" ʏᴏᴜ ʟᴇꜰᴛ ᴍᴇ !! ʏᴏᴜʀ ɴᴏᴛ ᴍʏ ʀᴇᴀʟ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅꜱ !! "

ᴛʜᴏꜱᴇ ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ ꜱᴛɪʟʟ ʜᴀᴜɴᴛᴇᴅ ʀɪᴄʜɪᴇ. ᴛʜᴇʏ ꜱᴛɪʟʟ ꜱʜᴏᴏᴋ ʜɪᴍ ᴛᴏ ʜɪꜱ ᴄᴏʀᴇ, ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ʜɪᴍ ꜰᴇᴇʟ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰᴀᴍɪʟɪᴀʀ ᴘʀᴇꜱꜱᴜʀᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴛᴇᴀʀꜱ ʙᴇʜɪɴᴅ ʜɪꜱ ᴇʏᴇꜱ. ʜᴇ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴡᴀɴᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴄʀʏ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜ , ꜱᴏ ʜᴇ ᴀʟᴡᴀʏꜱ ꜱᴜᴘᴘʀᴇꜱꜱᴇᴅ ɪᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴇᴛᴛʟᴇᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴀ ꜰᴇᴡ ꜱʜᴀᴋʏ ʙʀᴇᴀᴛʜꜱ.

ꜱᴛᴀɴ ᴅɪᴅɴ'ᴛ ᴍᴇᴀɴ ɪᴛ, ʜᴇ ᴡᴀꜱ ꜱᴄᴀʀᴇᴅ. ʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀꜱꜱᴜʀᴇᴅ ʀɪᴄʜɪᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴍᴜʟᴛɪᴘʟᴇ ᴛɪᴍᴇꜱ, ʙᴜᴛ ɪᴛ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ɢᴏᴛ ᴇᴀꜱɪᴇʀ.ᴛʜɪɴɢꜱ ᴇᴠᴇɴᴛᴜᴀʟʟʏ ꜱᴇᴛᴛʟᴇᴅ, ᴀɴᴅ ʀɪᴄʜɪᴇ ᴡᴇɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴛᴀɴ'ꜱ ʙᴀʀ ᴍɪᴛᴢᴠᴀʜ. ʜᴇ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴʟʏ ᴏɴᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴏꜱᴇʀꜱ ᴄʟᴜʙ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴅɪᴅ. ᴛʜᴀᴛꜱ ʜᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅꜱʜɪᴘ ᴡᴏʀᴋᴇᴅ, ᴛᴏɢᴇᴛʜᴇʀ ᴛɪʟʟ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴅ. ɪꜰ ᴏɴʟʏ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰᴜᴛᴜʀᴇ, ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴏɴᴇ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅʙᴇ ɢᴏɴᴇ ꜱᴏᴏɴᴇʀ ᴛʜᴀɴ ɴᴏᴛ. ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴘʀᴇᴠᴇɴᴛ ɪᴛ, ʙᴜᴛ ꜱᴇᴇɪɴɢ ᴀꜱ ɪᴛ ᴡᴀꜱɴ'ᴛ ᴘᴏꜱꜱɪʙʟᴇ, ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅɴ'ᴛ.

ʀɪᴄʜɪᴇ ᴀᴄᴛᴇᴅ ꜰɪɴᴇ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏᴜᴛꜱɪᴅᴇ, ʙᴜᴛ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴏʀᴇ, ʜɪꜱ ᴘᴀʀᴇɴᴛꜱ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴇɪᴛʜᴇʀ ɢᴏɴᴇ ᴏʀ ʏᴇʟʟɪɴɢ ᴀᴛ ʜɪᴍ. ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴏꜱᴇʀꜱ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ɢᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴀɴɴᴏʏᴇᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʜɪꜱ ᴊᴏᴋᴇꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀɴᴛɪᴄꜱ, ᴇᴠᴇɴ ᴄᴀᴍᴇ ᴜᴘ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ ꜱᴀʏɪɴɢ ꜰᴏʀ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʜᴇ ɴᴇᴇᴅᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ꜱʜᴜᴛ ᴜᴘ. 'ʙᴇᴇᴘ ʙᴇᴇᴘ ʀɪᴄʜɪᴇ' ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ꜱᴀʏ.

ꜱᴛᴀɴʟᴇʏ ᴋɴᴇᴡ ʜᴏᴡ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ɪᴛ ʙᴏᴛʜᴇʀᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ, ꜱᴏ ʜᴇ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴀʟᴡᴀʏꜱ ᴛʀʏ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴀꜱꜱᴜʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴇᴅᴅɪᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ʙɪʟʟ ᴅɪᴅɴ'ᴛ ᴍᴇᴀɴ ɪᴛ, ʙᴜᴛ ʀɪᴄʜɪᴇ ᴋɴᴇᴡ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴅɪᴅ. ɪᴛ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴏʙᴠɪᴏᴜꜱ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴏɴᴇ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴇxᴘʀᴇꜱꜱɪᴏɴꜱ, ɴᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴛᴇʟʟ ʜɪᴍ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴅɪᴅɴ'ᴛ ᴍᴇᴀɴ ɪᴛ ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜꜱᴇ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴅɪᴅ.

ᴏɴᴇ ᴅᴀʏ, ʀɪᴄʜɪᴇ ᴅɪᴅɴ'ᴛ ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴄʜᴏᴏʟ. ᴏɴᴇ ᴅᴀʏ ᴛᴜʀɴᴇᴅ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴛᴡᴏ, ᴛʜᴇɴ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ, ꜰᴏᴜʀ, ᴀɴᴅ ꜰɪᴠᴇ. ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴏꜱᴇʀꜱ ꜱᴛᴀʀᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ɢᴇᴛ ꜱᴜꜱᴘɪᴄɪᴏᴜꜱ ᴀʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴅᴀʏ 3 ᴀɴᴅ ᴀꜱᴋᴇᴅ ɪꜰ ꜱᴛᴀɴʟᴇʏ ᴋɴᴇᴡ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ʜᴀᴅ ɢᴏɴᴇ. ꜱᴛᴀɴʟᴇʏ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴀʟᴡᴀʏꜱ ꜱʜᴀᴋᴇ ʜɪꜱ ʜᴇᴀᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ᴡᴏʀʀʏ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ɪᴛ ʜɪᴍꜱᴇʟꜰ, ɢᴏɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴄʜᴇᴄᴋ ᴏɴ ʀɪᴄʜɪᴇ'ꜱ ʜᴏᴜꜱᴇ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴇᴇ ɪꜰ ʜᴇ ᴡᴀꜱ ɪɴ.

ᴡʜᴇɴ ꜱᴛᴀɴʟᴇʏ ɢᴏᴛ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ, ʜᴇ ꜱᴀᴡ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʀɪᴄʜɪᴇ'ꜱ ᴘᴀʀᴇɴᴛꜱ ᴡᴇʀᴇɴ'ᴛ ʜᴏᴍᴇ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴡʜᴇɴ ɴᴏ ᴏɴᴇ ᴀɴꜱᴡᴇʀᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰʀᴏɴᴛ ᴅᴏᴏʀ, ʜᴇ ᴄʟɪᴍʙᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰʀᴏɴᴛ ʀᴏᴏᴍ'ꜱ ᴡɪɴᴅᴏᴡ ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴇᴀʀᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴀᴛᴇʀ ʀᴜɴɴɪɴɢ. ɪᴛ ᴛᴏᴏᴋ ᴀ ꜰᴇᴡ ᴍᴏᴍᴇɴᴛꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴄʟɪᴍʙ ᴜᴘ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴛᴀɪʀꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇɴ ʜᴇ ꜱᴀᴡ ᴡᴀᴛᴇʀ ʀᴜɴ ᴏᴜᴛ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴀᴛʜʀᴏᴏᴍ ᴅᴏᴏʀ.

"ʀɪᴄʜɪᴇ?" ꜱᴛᴀɴʟʏ ᴀꜱᴋᴇᴅ, ᴋɴᴏᴄᴋɪɴɢ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴏᴏʀ "ᴄ'ᴍᴏɴ, ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴏɴᴇ'ꜱ ᴡᴏʀʀɪᴇᴅ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ʏᴏᴜ-" ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴇᴀᴅ ꜱɪʟᴇɴᴄᴇ ᴛᴏᴏᴋ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ, ʜᴇ ᴛᴡɪꜱᴛᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴋɴᴏʙ ᴀɴᴅ ᴏᴘᴇɴᴇᴅ ɪᴛ.

ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴘᴏᴏʀ ᴋɪᴅ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ʀᴇᴄᴏᴠᴇʀ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱɪɢʜᴛ ʜᴇ ꜱᴀᴡ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴅᴀʏ.

ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʟᴀᴡ-ꜰᴏᴏᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴜʙ ᴡᴀꜱ ꜰɪʟʟᴇᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʙʟᴏᴏᴅʏ ᴡᴀᴛᴇʀ, ᴀ ꜰᴜʟʟʏ ᴄʟᴏᴛʜᴇᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ᴜɴᴄᴏɴꜱᴄɪᴏᴜꜱ ʀɪᴄʜɪᴇ, ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴ ʜɪꜱ ʜᴀɴᴅꜱ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴍᴀʟʟ ʙɪʀᴅ ᴘɪɴ ꜱᴛᴀɴʟᴇʏ ʜᴀᴅ ɢᴏᴛᴛᴇɴ ʀɪᴄʜɪᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ʜɪꜱ ʙɪʀᴛʜᴅᴀʏ ᴛʜᴇ ʏᴇᴀʀ ʙᴇꜰᴏʀᴇ.

ʙᴇꜰᴏʀᴇ ꜱᴛᴀɴʟᴇʏ ᴋɴᴇᴡ ɪᴛ, ʜᴇ ᴡᴀꜱ ꜱɴᴀᴛᴄʜɪɴɢ ʀɪᴄʜɪᴇ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴀᴛᴇʀ, ᴛʜᴇ ꜱʟɪɢʜᴛʟʏ ꜱʜᴏʀᴛᴇʀ ʙᴏʏ ꜱᴛᴀʏɪɴɢ ʟɪᴍᴘ ɪɴ ʜɪꜱ ᴀʀᴍꜱ. ꜱᴛᴀɴʟᴇʏ ᴄʜᴇᴄᴋᴇᴅ ᴘᴜʟꜱᴇꜱ, ᴄʜᴇᴄᴋᴇᴅ ʙʀᴇᴀᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴘᴀᴛᴛᴇʀɴꜱ, ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴘᴏᴛᴇɴᴛɪᴀʟʟʏ ʜᴇʟᴘ.

"ᴄ'ᴍᴏɴ ʀɪᴄʜɪᴇ, ᴡᴀᴋᴇ ᴜᴘ, ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ'ᴛ ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴀʟᴏɴᴇ-" ʜᴇ ᴘʟᴇᴀᴅᴇᴅ, ꜱʜᴀᴋɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ꜱʟɪɢʜᴛʟʏ. ʀɪᴄʜɪᴇ'ꜱ ʜᴇᴀᴅ ᴅʀᴏᴘᴘᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʜɪꜱ ᴄʜᴇꜱᴛ ᴀꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ɢʟᴀꜱꜱᴇꜱ ꜰᴇʟʟ ᴏꜰꜰ ʜɪꜱ ꜰᴀᴄᴇ.

ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴛᴏᴏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ, ꜱᴛᴀɴ ᴅɪᴅɴ'ᴛ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ, ꜱᴏ ʜᴇ ɢʀᴀʙʙᴇᴅ ᴀ ᴛᴏᴡᴇʟ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡʀᴀᴄᴋ ᴀɴᴅ ᴘᴜꜱʜᴇᴅ ɪᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏᴜɴᴅꜱ ᴏɴ ʜɪꜱ ᴀʀᴍꜱ. ʀɪᴄʜɪᴇ'ꜱ ᴇʏᴇʟɪᴅꜱ ᴛᴡɪᴛᴄʜᴇᴅ ꜱʟɪɢʜᴛʟʏ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴏᴘᴇɴᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴜᴘ ꜱʟɪɢʜᴛʟʏ. ʜɪꜱ ᴇʏᴇꜱ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ʀᴇᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ᴘᴜꜰꜰʏ, ᴀɴᴅ ꜰʀᴀɴᴋʟʏ ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ɢʟᴀꜱꜱᴇꜱ, ɪᴛ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ��ᴀꜱɴ'ᴛ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ᴏʟᴇ ʀɪᴄʜɪᴇ ᴛᴏᴢɪᴇʀ.

ꜱᴛᴀɴʟᴇʏ ꜱᴍɪʟᴇᴅ, ᴇʏᴇꜱ ɢʟᴀꜱꜱɪɴɢ ᴜᴘ ᴀꜱ ʜᴇ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛᴇᴅ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ . "ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ, ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ɢᴏᴅ-" ʜᴇ ᴍᴜᴍʙʟᴇᴅ

// ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴡɪʟʟ ᴇᴠᴇɴᴛᴜᴀʟʟʏ ʙᴇ ᴀ ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴡᴏ, ʙᴜᴛ ɪᴛꜱ 4:55 ᴀᴍ ᴀɴᴅ ɪ'ᴍ ᴇxʜᴀᴜꜱᴛᴇᴅ, ɢᴏᴏᴅ ʙʏᴇ <333

#stozier #stanley uris #richie tozier #it 2017 #sad #angst #stan the man #beep beep richie #richie trashmouth #Stanley it 2017 #trans richie

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pn3uemoz · 2 years

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Richie Tozier headcannons

TW- talks about r@pe/s£xual assault

- when Richie was saying he wasn’t a virgin in chapter 1 he wasn’t lying, I think that Patrick had S£xually @ss@ulted/@ss@ult Richie.

(My proof which is shit) - it makes me think because during the locker scene at the start you have Patrick, Henry and the gang watching the boys? And Patrick looks at Richie suspiciously, and Richie just looks down and shuffles when he saw Patrick (some might say it’s just cause he was nervous and didn’t want to be seen)

-Richie normally gets ignored by his parents and makes that up with the losers by being joyful and jokes all the time.

-he most likely spends a living on books (magazines, books, comics) and has a stack if them in the corner of his room.

-when his parents do talk to him it’s when they yell at him or take him to church.

-Richie’s family is close to the Uris’ because of 1 Stanley and Richie being close friends and that they met at the church

- Richie’s family is either Christian/Catholic or Jewish (most likely either Catholic or Christian)

-Richie would leave his parents house 2-3 days once a week and stays either at the club house or Stanley’s or Bill’s place, and only a few times he got ratted out by Stanley’s dad but stayed there anyway beside his parent’s yelling at him.

-Richie has crushed on multiple men on movies and only a few women but up to he was around 6 and realized it was only a mutual feeling with the women because of how different it felt from the men.

-Only Stanley and the Bowser gang know about him being gay and Stanley wouldn’t dare tell anyone and somehow the gang found out and would bully Richie for it just when it was only them there.

-his mom had found out about him being gay and first yelled at him and slapped him (only once) until he started crying and she realized what she was saying and just gave him a strong talking to and slammed the door shut and Richie left to the club house and only told Stanley what happened.

(This is my first post and I have no bloody clue on how this works so I hope it works out fine :])

#richie tozier #it chapter 1 #it chapter 2 #gay pride #angst #eddie kaspbrak #stanley uris #bill denbrough #ben hanscom #Mike #beverly marsh #richie my beloved

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lilhoeforevanpeters · 5 months

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Haunted

"Give me something that'll haunt me when you're not around"

Stanley Uris x GN!reader angst

You put your car in park once you reached your destination. Your tragic destination. You grab the bouquet of flowers from the passenger seat beside you. Sitting in your car for a few minutes, you eventually get out, the cool Autumn air hitting you. You shrugged his jacket on you further, stuffing your hands in the pockets. It doesn't smell like him anymore.

There were many other grieving families there, grieving husbands and wives like you, however, it was eerily quiet, no one dared to even mutter a word. You locked the car, walking through the main gates of the dreaded place.

You stared at the gravel path as you walked mindlessly, not needing to look up for directions as you've been to the location so many times. Clutching the fresh flower bouquet in your hands as your heeled boots make a click-clack sound against the pavement.

You took a right, then a left, until you were finally in the shaded area where he was. Your heart felt heavy, as it had for weeks. You took a shaky breath before looking up.

You sat down on the slightly damp grass, not caring if you got your clothing wet. You looked at the headstone in front of you. The headstone of your husband. Your now dead husband.

You set the flowers in your hand down next to the gravestone. "Stanley Uris, July 13 1976- September 5 2016". You looked at it briefly before looking down at the grass you were sitting on. The cold air blew through your hair that was up in a low ponytail, and you tugged on the jacket that was one your husband's further onto your body.

Pressing your lips together in a tight line, eyes watering as you looked up for a split second before letting out a breath, tears falling down your cheeks and onto the ground in front of you. Your gaze falls back down to the headstone. "Loving son and husband".

"Asshole."

One simple word. A word that held a lot of anger and was typically for people who you hate- but you didn't hate Stanley. You couldn't. He is was your husband. But despite still feeling the love you had for him, you couldn't help but feel angry. Not angry- livid. Livid at the world, at the entire town of Derry, at that fucking clown that terrorized him, at yourself for not going up to check on him sooner, at your husband for killing himself.

It wasn't fair. The entire situation wasn't- it wasn't fair that you were angry at him, or that you were now alone, desperately holding onto the small pieces of him that you had left. It wasn't fair how your home that once brought joy and comfort brings nothing but despair and pain. It wasn't fair that the stupid clown scared him so much and he felt like he had no other choice.

You felt empty, like everything had been stripped from you. It had been. You lost the one person you thought you'd never lose. Your best friend. Your husband. Your Stan.

"You left me. And I hate you for it. I hate you. I hate you for leaving me alone, I hate you for not thinking there was a better option. I hate that I still love you. I hate that I expect you to be there at the table every night after I come home from work, doing your stupid puzzles."

Tears streamed down your face as you spoke bitterly to the tomb. Using the sleeve of his jacket, you wiped away the tears, but they were only replaced with new ones. You hated it all. How your bed felt cold and empty. Or how you still expected him to be there. Memories of what once was haunted your house. They haunted your mind.

You glared at the headstone, as if expecting Stan to respond, to tell he was sorry, and he'd be coming home soon. But you knew that wouldn't happen. It was impossible. His body was in the ground, he'd been gone for three months. You couldn't bring him back; no one could.

You wanted your husband back. Your best friend. He was your everything, and now he was gone. You looked away from the dumb piece of stone that really didn't mean anything, yet meant so much to you.

If Stan had died in a car accident, or something else, maybe you'd be able to cope better. It would be hard- maybe as hard as it was now for you, but you couldn't help but feel that this storyline hurt more. It hurt so much, and the impact it left on you was huge.

That night would stick forever in your mind. How could it not? He was so obviously upset over the phone call- but you brushed it off. And you would blame yourself for that for eternity. You didn't think anything of him taking the bath until he wasn't answering and he'd been in there for half an hour. You felt sick when thinking of it. You had knocked on the door, asking if he was okay, but when there was no answer you went in.

Your husband laid dead in the bathtub, his wrists slit, the word "It" written in his own blood. You let out a scream and rushed over to him, pulling him out of the water and holding him in your arms as you cried and called 911. He was declared dead on the scene.

His lifeless face was burned into your mind. When you close your eyes. When you try to sleep. Everywhere you look- his lifeless face is there. That scene is there. His bloody wrists. How you tried to save him, knowing it was hopeless. The door to the now clean bathroom has been closed from the moment he was declared dead. You couldn't go in there. Hell, you could barely go in your bedroom where you two slept every night.

With tears rolling down your cheeks, you close your eyes and pressed a hand to the ground, grasping at the grass lightly where you knew his body was- six feet under, in a casket. You felt pathetic and broken, but you couldn't help it, you had lost your everything. You just wanted him to hold you in his arms and tell you everything would be okay like he normally would've. However, the only thing you got was the cold wind hitting your back, no warm embrace from your now dead husband.

"I'm sorry I couldn't help you. I'm so, so sorry. I should've gone up sooner. I should've pressed you harder to talk about it. I shouldn't have let you go upstairs."

You blamed the world and that fucking clown, but mostly, you blamed yourself. Deep down you knew you shouldn't. Deep down you knew he wouldn't want you that.

"I love you. And I always will."

You whispered the words to the tombstone, knowing it was foolish to believe he could hear you, but if he did, if there was a chance he could hear what you were saying, then you wanted him to know that you loved him.

So you sat at the grave for three hours, as you did every weekend since the day he was buried. You didn't speak anymore, instead pressing your forehead against the headstone and closing your eyes, his jacket wrapped around your body. This was the closest you had to him now. And you would take whatever you could.

When the air grew colder and crisper, hours later, you got back into the car, sighing lightly and drove home in silence. Driving up to your house, you parked in the driveway as the feeling of heartache crept over you once more.

You walked into the house you once lived in with your beloved husband, memories of all the times you spent with him there still living rent-free in your mind. Sliding your shoes off, you crept up the stairs, avoiding the pictures on the wall on the way up of him smiling at the camera while holding you, or him as a kid. The bathroom door was still closed, and it would remain that way for possibly many more months, and you averted your eyes- even looking at the door made you sick to your stomach. You walked into the bedroom you once slept in peacefully with Stan, not bothering to take your jeans or his jacket off as you crawled into the bed and laid there underneath the comforter, closing your eyes, but not sleeping, as you did every weekend since he died.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you can't help the hot tears that trail down your face as the feeling of hopelessness crept up on you, swallowing you whole like a black hole.

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