cherry valley forever
Not today Justin
Peter Solarz
NASA
we're not kids anymore.
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
Three Goblin Art
tannertan36
No title available
wallacepolsom
Janaina Medeiros
hello vonnie
blake kathryn
🪼
Today's Document
sheepfilms
Jules of Nature
Cosmic Funnies
ellievsbear
oozey mess
seen from Türkiye
seen from Australia
seen from Malaysia
seen from Brazil
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from Malaysia
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
seen from Brazil
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Argentina
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United Kingdom
@viewsbirds
@avaoakley // " STAN !! the dutch police arrested a bird !! did you hear ?! it's a lovebird and it's a suspect in a robbery !! "
‘ how-- how is that even possible, ava? ’ stan blinked, confused as ever, but mildly intrigued. ‘ what, did the bird have a gun or something? ’ he replies, the sarcasm absent from his tone but heavily implied. lovebirds weren’t typically very aggressive birds - so the idea made even less sense the more stan thought about it.
nonverbal loving actions ♥ @viewsbirds ↳ 3. my muse gives yours a piggy back ride
he lost count of how many drinks they’d consumed. he had also lost track of who started this conversation - stanley insisting that, absolutely not, there was no possible way that ben would be able to lift him up. and ben had laughed, laughed, laughed. loud and amused. bright and carefree. he wanted… he didn’t know, but he knew that he needed moments like this. moments in which they all know who they are again. they’re all together, friends. as though the last twenty-odd years apart hadn’t happened. just a blink in the scheme of things and they’d be back on track before the sun rose into the sky the next day. it felt like they were getting there. ben would be a liar to say otherwise. but the thought is ignored as quickly as it forms and ben is rising to his feet, loud and determined and… maybe fucking stupid because he’d drunk too much, but he wasn’t complaining and neither was stanley. “c’mon,” it’s a challenge as much as it is a demand. a refusal to let the other get out of it now that they’d started. it wasn’t even him that had mentioned it first. ben was pretty sure, at the back of his mind, that it’d been richie. or maybe bill. too many drinks. “you’re gonna stand on this couch and i’m gonna carry you. i think that i press more than you on a bad day, so it’ll be a piece of cake,” there’s still a dubious look in stan’s eyes, and ben can’t entirely blame him. but he’s standing on the couch as instructed, laughter bubbling between them as ben hooks his arms under the other’s knees, gives him to the count of one, two, three! before he’s moving.
‘ no-- no way dude! you’re full of shit! i don’t believe it for one second - ’
there’s a pleasant buzzing in his chest that hasn’t been present in quite some time, and stan isn’t sure if it’s due to the obscene amount of vodka flowing through his bloodstream, or the way that he and ben had slid so easily back into friendship that it left his head spinning and his palms warm -- but he’s not complaining.
in fact, he’s stepping onto the couch, indulging in ben’s silly bet before his brain can even think to tell his legs to stop, but feet move on their own accord, and ben’s arms are locking around his legs, and the couch is being lifted out from under him and -- oh fuck ! a startled noise escapes his lips as the other hoists him into the air, but he settles against ben’s back rather quickly, and any prior apprehension to the idea is quickly tossed out the window.
‘ well shit, hanscom. didn’t think you had it in you, ’ he’s not sure if the wording filters out through alcohol saturated brain properly, but the sentiment is there. maybe? who knew.
his thoughts drift for a moment, chin resting on ben’s shoulder without thinking. he’s warm. secure -- and stan has never felt safer in his life.
there’s a tick, tick, tick in the corner of a room somewhere. eddie doesn’t know which one - knows, also, that he should given how long he’s lived there. a shell of a house that hasn’t been anything like a home. not before his mom died. yet, he remained. as all the others left derry, explored the big, wide world, eddie had stayed. too guilty, too consumed by panic and anxiety and– and everything that refused to leave him alone even with his eyes closed and sleep threatening to consume him whole. he’d stayed, and it had come back. they made a pact; the scar is still there, in the middle of his hand. if it ever came back, then they’d defeat it. they’d all come back and they’d kill it, once and for all. he didn’t know if any of them knew - didn’t know if any of them allowed themselves to think about what happened. if they could even remember. it’s been… it’s been twenty-seven years and eddie can’t remember the last time he spoke to a single member of what had been his closest group of friends. it twists in his stomach, and he wants to be able to breathe properly. he wants to be able to escape. he’d never been brave. he’d never pretended to be. he’d found stan’s number almost by chance. the quickest, the easiest. it was like he’d been told what page to look on. the thought is gone as quickly as it forms and eddie breathes, breathes, breathes. forces himself to. presses numbers into the phone in his hand and ignores the way that it trembles in his grasp. he has to do this. they all do. “stan? uh– stanley uris? am i talking to stanley uris?”
@viewsbirds
he’s muddling his way through another puzzle when he gets the call. cardboard adorned with the images of once vibrant plumage, faded from overuse ( a relic from his childhood ) gets passed between idle hands, calloused fingers examining shapes as his distracted mind tries to make sense of the familiar image.
it’s only the chime of a ringtone that breaks him from his trance - and simultaneously drives a cold, jarringly cold stake through his chest. stomach churning as he clicks the button, the voice on the other line has immediately recognized him, but there is no familiarity on stanley’s end. at least not at first.
‘ uh, yeah. yeah - this is him. may i ask who’s calling? ’ stan’s not sure if he should be afraid of the answer, but the scar on his palm twinges, pain sharp, but grounding - and suddenly he knows his feelings regarding the other’s response will be equal parts hopeful and horrified.
SEND 💖 TO HOLD MY MUSE’S HAND; @viewsbirds
fingers curl over his own and it catches him so off guard that ben can only blink at the boy standing beside him. stan looks terrified - well, actually. that feels like an understatement, but ben doesn’t know any words to emphasise it other than terrified so that’s what he looks like. they’ve done it now, though - but there’s still blood drying on their palms and the promise that they’d come back if needed. that, if it wasn’t dead, then they would come back to finish the job. all of them. the hand stan grabbed isn’t the one sliced - nor is the one he used - and he’s glad, because he’s pretty sure that eddie would lose his shit if he were to turn and see them like this. would start yelling about aids and a friend of a friend that his mom knew and– and ben didn’t care, because the touch was warm and grounding and his fingers press between stan’s and he squeezes. soft. affectionate. tries to be as warm as he feels, because he doesn’t want stan to be scared. not anymore. they’ve done all they can for now, and they’ll all be together next time. “you okay?” he asks, quiet and sincere. “it’s okay, stan.”
stan is shaking.
not visibly, but he’s almost certain ben can feel it through his mildly firm grip on the other’s uncut palm. stan knows the implications of this pact, and he doesn’t want to admit to himself how real things truly are.
but the stinging of the flesh on his unoccupied hand says otherwise.
there was no going back from this. not unless you wanted to revoke every vow of friendship ever made among the group - walk away like it was nothing - break bonds not of friendship, but formed in blood, in the most literal of senses.
ben’s reassurance does little to quell the sourness in the pit of his stomach, but his words are oddly calming and stan does his best to even out his breathing, ‘ - i- i’m okay. i think, ’ a sheepish smile from behind tired, weary eyes.
@viewsbirds said : ‘ it’s nothing. it’s just a bruise. ’
CLEARLY IT’S MORE THAN A BRUISE ! is eddie the only one who can see this shit? it’s not something to write off as nothing. it’s the kind of thing that could get infected if left open. dirt and germs and bacteria could get inside of it and then it really would be bad. eddie’s shaking his head before stanley can even finish his statement, fingers already digging inside of the fanny pack. “ it’s more than a bruise, stan. it’s literally fucking bleeding. ” he pulls out alcohol swabs and band - aids, you know, normal stuff for thirteen years olds to carry at their side. “ here, clean it first and then cover that shit up. you’re going to make it worse if you don’t treat it. ”
‘ eddie, it’s fine-- i swear, ’ he’s lying. through his teeth. doesn’t know why that is--- there’s absolutely no rational explanation. he just... can’t right now. can’t let eddie mother him -- can’t let the others pity him. can’t be weak.
as much as his subconscious is screaming at him to take all the help he can get, clean the blood, disinfect, wash his hands, wash-- disinfect- wash--- c l e a n-- he’s forced to stand there, the reassuring grin tossed in eddie’s direction looking much more like a grimace than anything else.
‘ that’s-- that’s not even my blood- i don’t think. ’
@viewsbirds /
PERFECTLY NORMAL FOR HIM TO BE RESTLESS, they’ve been at it for fucking hours ! and eddie doesn’t see the fun in watching a bird fly by, visible for like a whole five seconds . . . he does not have adhd ( probably ) that’s richie’s territory, yet he still goes from sitting, to standing, to leaning against a picnic table, to pacing, to -- “ have you ever thought about visiting the old folks home ?! don’t they have bird watching on some kind of fucking itinerary. they make time for this shit. ”
‘ shhhhhh! ’ his whispering ( if it could even be called that ) is almost equal in volume to eddie’s voice, but stan doesn’t care-- he’s too focused, has too important of things to look away from. dark eyes peer through binoculars as fingers work furiously to focus the image. but eddie’s continued pacing immediately break’s stan’s concentration.
‘ eddie! stop fucking moving! ’ he finally lashes out, voice unusually stern.
yellowslicker:
bill tends to get kind of standoffish with georgie whenever one of his friends is over - too easily peeved by his little brother’s earnest attempts to tag along like a little lost puppy .
ma sighs over the two of them and says georgie should just go play with his own friends instead of hanging around the big boys , but - it’s kind of hard to do that when caleb’s grounded and ava’s been hauled off for some yawny old day trip with her family !
but it’s fine , really ; he’s got his own stuff to do while he eagerly awaits her return … y’know , math homework and spelling tests - and most importantly , a glossy new comic book to attend to ! georgie’s actually much too busy to go sit with stan and bill , even . definitely .
he’s poring over an especially dull sheet of simple division , still rather befuddled by how he’s even supposed to go about dividing one number by another , when stan yells . glancing up and blinking owlishly , georgie’s only too happy to ditch the work and investigate !! little boy paces out into the hall , stopping short outside the bathroom , and calls back ,
“ um , it’s georgie ! you okay in there , stan ?? ”
stan shakes his head no, the motion quick and panicked ( despite the fact that georgie cannot see him through the closed bathroom door ). his gaze remains locked on the spider as he takes another step backwards, sock clad feet meeting with thankfully dry porcelain as he’s forced to step into the bathtub.
‘ i uh-- n- not really, georgie ! ’ he somehow chokes out a reply.
his heart is racing and the rational part of stan that has yet to be squashed out by endless, painfully irrational compulsions is yelling at him - reminding him he’s a giant compared to this unoffending creature. but it doesn’t help, the silent cries quickly smothered by shaky wheezes, thudding heartbeats.
‘ g- georgie? i can’t - i can’t really move-- ’ the maybe you should go get bill is on the tip of his tongue but he can’t seem to spit it out. a flinch interrupts whatever words he was planning on saying next as the spider’s path diverts and does a complete 180, the insect now beelining straight for the shiny white tile of the bathroom floor.
𝐒𝐇𝐄'𝐒 𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐔𝐆 𝐎𝐔𝐓, searching the crowd of players for the familiar face she was looking for. the jersey she was wearing didn’t keep her nearly warm enough, but it had just been warm an hour ago so she really couldn’t complain. when she does find the face, a wide grin breaks out across her lips.
𝐑𝐄𝐆𝐆𝐈𝐄 𝐃𝐈𝐃 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 - it was easier for her to make up an excuse her sister would buy. the away games were always tougher and she was almost never able to make those, which made going to the home games even more important. she liked the baseball fields. if she sat high enough on the bleachers and closed her eyes, she felt as if she were on top of the world. but she didn’t originally come to feel the wind on her face, or to eat cheap food that honestly wasn’t even warmed up.
𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐀𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐃 𝐓𝐎𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃, stopping with a small bounce in front of him. ❛ good game, staney ! ❜ she holds up a hand for a high five, linking their fingers together for a brief moment and giving a small squeeze before letting go. this was the real reason she came - she loved to watch stan play. she had been told on a few occasions that she might go overboard with the cheering, or get a bit too into the game, but reggie saw it as all part of her support. even if that support did get her kicked out a few times.
𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐙𝐄𝐒 𝐒𝐇𝐄'𝐒 𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀 𝐁𝐈𝐓 𝐓𝐎𝐎 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆, clearing her throat and turning red at her ears. ❛ hey, so, richie is having an after party to celebrate you winning. the rest of them are going back with him. ❜ she gestures over to where the gang was waving, richie holding up reggie’s GO STAN THE MAN sign with glittering letters. the after party was really just the losers hanging around at someone’s house playing games until it got too dark, but it still felt like a party. ❛ i thought we could drop your stuff off and then head over. unless you have plans with the team ? ❜
@viewsbirds
his hands are a bit clammy, but the feeling of reggie’s fingers briefly lacing through his own is a feeling stan will never tire of. the game had been one of the tougher events of the season, and stan’s absolutely sure he tweaked his shoulder in some way as a result, but he’s ridiculously thrilled for it to be over.
sure, the final score that leaned oh-so-satisfyingly in their favor definitely helped.
but stan’s glad it’s over - wants nothing more than to change out of dirt encrusted uniform and into the warmth and comfort of sweatpants he’s been clinging to since middle school. that, and-- perhaps a hooded sweatshirt? but his bubble is quickly burst when reggie mentions the ‘after party’ at richie’s. of course the sentiment warms his chest at the thought of his friends getting together to celebrate his victory, but stan is bone-tired, and sore, and so hungry he could eat a horse -- or maybe even a rhinoceros.
‘ afterparty huh? oh geez. ’
suddenly a yawn escapes from his mouth, as if to reiterate his own unspoken point. ‘ i’m beat, reg. how mad do you think the others will be if i take a rain check? ’
as he’s saying it, he catches riche’s gaze and a pang of hurt claws at his chest. maybe now wasn’t the best time to bow out.
‘ i mean, maybe we could go for a little -- ’
skatedfear:
𝐈𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐀 𝐁𝐀𝐃 𝐃𝐀𝐘. there were bad days and good days in the maxwell household, and this was a bad day. a real bad day. she had done the only thing she had thought of doing - running to her friends. that was how she had ended up with stanley, sitting in the clubhouse with no one else around. a rare occurrence that there would only be two people in here, but reggie didn’t mind one bit.
𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐈𝐒 𝐀 𝐁𝐈𝐓 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐎𝐂𝐂𝐔𝐏𝐈𝐄𝐃. she tries her best to be present, to pay attention to stanley as he was working so hard to cheer her up. but the yelling just kept coming back to her mind, and reggie can’t help but not quite focus in. she tries to find something to comment on ( there’s loads of material and no richie to steal the show ! ) but nothing really comes to mind. instead of engaging, she simply turns her head to look at an opposing wall, feeling like quite the bad companion.
𝐈𝐓 𝐈𝐒𝐍'𝐓 𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐋 𝐇𝐄'𝐒 𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐇𝐄𝐑, and arm touches her shoulder, that reggie turns back. she finds herself moving with the pull, her arms wrapping around his middle to hug him fiercely. and it made her feel better - she felt secure and warm. stan had that effect on her. tears start to form in her eyes, and reggie can’t hold back the small sob that builds in her throat. she was letting go of her usual wall, and it was crashing in.
𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐄𝐒𝐍'𝐓 𝐌𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐀 𝐁𝐈𝐓. she just cries and leans into the boy next to her. she’s not allowed to do this around her friends - she doesn’t let herself. if she did it at home, it would surely set her sister off in some way, shape, or form. part of her feels guilty, crying in front of stan like this, but part of her also feels like it was okay. after a few more minutes, she moves to wipe at her eyes. they’re red and puffy, with tear tracks covering her cheeks. reggie shifts slightly, an arm still around stan, and reaches for the birds of north america book. she sets it on his lap, her head moving to rest on his shoulder. she didn’t trust her voice to sound like her, so she stays silent in hopes it would come back.
the clubhouse is silent save for reggie’s soft sobs and the gentle chirp of a cricket outside.
stan produces a tissue from seemingly out of nowhere and offers the small piece of cloth to the sniffling redhead on his shoulder, before deciding it would likely be more efficient to offer her up the entire box - instead producing said item and placing it gently in reggie’s lap while the book now takes up space in his own. he waits for her to compose herself somewhat, knowing all too well how vulnerable one made themselves when crying in the presence of another. but stan doesn’t see it that way.
vulnerability didn't necessarily mean weakness.
the hand not currently cradling reggie gently moves to open the book, flipping open the cover slowly as empty gaze scans the pages, familiar once vibrant illustrations now weathered and paled in the sunlight.
a finger lands on blue plumage and stan can’t help the grin that plays at the edges of his lips. ‘ eddie and i spotted one of these last friday--- it was beautiful. ’ his gaze drifts to reggie for unknowing approval, the girl’s eyes not yet meeting his own, ‘ but he sneezed too loud and scared it off. ’ stan rolls his own eyes at the memory, vowing to take reggie as his companion the next time he plans to go birding.
hands move to turn additional pages, nervously awaiting reggie’s first words since their arrival in the clubhouse.
kspbrked:
LUCKILY ENOUGH for the boy, richie keeps some of his comics down in their clubhouse. he’d already decided he could flip through one of those before finally deciding to return to hell with his mother. attention only caught when stan is still standing near the ladder, not even moving to take the steps up. this brings eddie to do his best to sit up in the hammock, even as if moves way too much with each one he makes.
gaze falls to his friend, shoulders rising and falling in answer. they all know how his mother can be, in fact they’ve all seen it. a smile curls onto his lips as stan takes steps away from the ladder and approaches the hammock. eddie would’ve been okay alone, but his heart beats a little faster with the knowledge that his friends are always willing to be by his side. eddie would do the same. no matter what.
he does his best to make room on the hammock, more than used to sharing the damn thing with richie. eddie ad removed his shower cap earlier, when he had planned on leaving the underground club house. now, he regards stan’s that still rests on his head, “ did you know the average person eats eight spiders in their sleep? ” he shudders at his own fact, “ i wonder if it’s worse for us, being down here. ”
stan catches eddie’s gaze lingering near the top of his head and glances upward in brief confusion— right, his shower cap. sure, richie had ragged on them earlier for donning the various brightly colored plastic headgear, but they were certainly effective - looks be damned.
gaze flicking across the dusty wooden floor, he soon spots eddie’s own discarded spider protection and retrieves the soft plastic dome before finally joining the other in the hammock.
stan shudders at eddie’s comment, an uneasiness quickly blossoming in his stomach. ‘ jesus, eds -- that’s exactly what i wanted to hear right now. ’ he knows, deep down, that the other meant no ill will by the remark - it was simply his overactive mind bypassing the filter that lead to his mouth, but the sentiment still leaves him squirming, even as he tries to validate his own denial, ‘ i don’t know about you, but i haven’t actually slept down here yet. ’
lovermade:
❛ sorry , stanley . i didn’t see the bird , i only saw you . ❜ eddie explains , stepping out of the brush && crouching beside his best friend . he’s definitely not into birds as much as the other is , but he expresses interest anyway . anything for stanley . ❛ fuck ⸻ was it a big blue jay ?? ❜ the boy asks , staring after where it flew away with an apologetic look .
‘ you know what-- ’ stan shakes his head, a hand raking through his hair, displacing them from their prior position matted to the boy’s forehead thanks to the blistering summer heat. ‘ --it’s fine. it’s totally fine. don’t worry about it eddie. ’
the first it’s fine sounds a tad angry, but stan quickly gets the thought out of his head, instead choosing to attempt ( key word attempt ) to share his interest with his friend. ‘ uh-- kinda, but it’s alright, ’ flipping through his field guide, he stops on a page filled with shades of vibrant blue plumage before pointing to one in particular.
‘ it looked a bit like that one. ’
meme // @viewsbirds : ‘ i can’t help this awful energy. ’
first and foremost, EDDIE TRUSTS STAN with every bit of himself. he was methodical, systematic, intelligent. and, a lot like bill, he was a leader - type. and the smaller boy had certainly always looked up to bill, so this wasn’t much different. when his friend’s face contorts in this odd way, and it looks as if he’s unsure about the situation, eddie notices. sees the troubled look in his eyes. and then of course, he speaks his own worries.
a breath is pulled in harshly, already petrified of what he’s going to say. why he’s feeling this way. eddie nods slightly, swallowing down a lump in his throat. when he doesn’t continue on in an appropriate time, eddie starts his usual PANIC MODE – “ okay, but why stanley. why do you feel this way? ” the words fall from his lips too fast, thoughts running much quicker. “ you can’t just say something like that and then hold for some fucking dramatic pause, this is not a game !! ” hands begin to motion around, as if his over reactions weren’t enough as it was. “ haven’t you heard that you should ALWAYS follow your gut ?? so if you’ve got this shitty feeling, then i’m out too. ”
‘ i-- i’m sorry, eddie. i just-- i don’t know, okay?? ’
stan’s tone is shaky, and the boy stumbles over his words as he spits out a response without thinking. ‘ i just don’t have a great feeling about what happened to betty. and-- ’ he swallows harshly, suddenly acutely aware of the location of one bill denbrough, ‘ and georgie. ’
the words are spoken as though it physically pains stan to say them aloud. a hand creeps up to his likely sour stomach on its own accord - as if to confirm the idea - and stan shakes his head. ‘ just forget it. i’m just being paranoid. ’
@kspbrked // “You’re going to be fine. I promise.”
‘ you keep saying that but i’m not sure i heard you the last twenty times. hey, maybe twenty-one’s the charm, ’ stan teases, despite the look of utter exhaustion on his face. the trip to derry was only intended to be a short interruption to his regular routine. between work, his wife, reuniting with his old friends, and nearly being killed by a giant evil space entity ripped straight from the nightmares of just about everyone on earth — that didn’t leave much time for stan to take care of himself. so here they are, the entire group occupying the otherwise completely empty bar of a nearby hotel just outside derry richie had managed to last minute book for them, attempting to process, well —- everything.
‘ but seriously eddie, i feel like shit, dude. ’
i’m really not feeling like being on this blog right now so if anyone needs me over the next few days, hit me up on disc.ord
wow i love absolutely this canon family
herman and lily, their adult son thomas ( tommy ), the middle child mary anne, and youngest eddie
meme // @viewsbirds : ‘ i don’t know how safe that would be . ’
his friends are going to be the death of him, eddie’s decided. maybe long ago he realized it, and yet the boy still willingly hangs out with THESE LOSERS. jumping off of cliffs, trekking through the barrens, the sewers, hanging out in a club - house, underground ! where spiders lurk. ugh. at least stan had been logical enough to buy those stupid caps. sure, kids are supposed to be adventurous but his friends take that to a whole new freaking level. at this rate, he’d rather spend all his life in the arcade. watching richie play that stupid street fighter game was better than getting into all kinds of trouble – causing all kinds of hell. eddie glances at his friend, the more sane one of the gang. “ yeah, no fucking shit it’s not safe, stanley. ” the foul language falls so easily from his lips, eyes wide and lips pursed. hands move as he speaks, to better accentuate his point, “ but when do we EVER do anything that would count as safe. never. literally fucking never. ” the smaller boy so easily gets himself worked up. having to, now do his best to even out his breathing.
‘ how else are we going to get back then, huh? ’ there’s a hint of malice in stan’s voice as he spits out a reply, but the moment his gaze meets back up with that of his friend’s his posture immediately relaxes. it’s not eddie’s fault they’re stuck. technically it’s richie’s, but stan would never outwardly accuse the other like that in front of anyone else — especially eddie. eyes flicking between the fallen tree ( soon to become a makeshift bridge across this seemingly endless river ) and eddie’s now rapidly moving chest, stan makes a sudden, and likely very risky, decision.
one shaky footstep later and he’s above the water. he knows eddie won’t like this— but it’s their only option. ‘ eddie- ’ stan’s voice is somehow unwavering as he speaks up over the soft rumble of the rushing water below. another step and the only thing separating stan from possible certain death is a ten foot long log of probably rotten wood. he doesn’t dare turn around, however, acutely aware of the fact that if he were looking his friend dead in the eyes he’d be quickly yanked back to safety by the hand not currently clutching an inhaler.
‘ —i’m going to need you to trust me. ’
the rents! – ( aka jay makes graphics until somebody picks them up 1/? )
